#'what is that purple and pink youre using' he likes them

[lemon-russ]

More lore for my insane porn.

Why am I doing this? Does human pet smut need a backstory? If there were a merciful god, wouldn't I be stopped? Some things are never answered. The important thing is I am having fun ✨

Mortarion x F!Reader (prequel 2? Part 3??)

Previous

CW: None for this specific thing. Many for the first one. Many for the future of whatever this is.

TAGS (no one participated in the prayer circle to stop me so it continues): @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk @moodymisty

“Go on, pick.”

Mortarion holds you out at arms length, pointing you at a display of items in colors you couldn’t name, so bright and varied it made your head start to swim.

“Pick?” You parrot, “pick… what? What are they?”

You hear a small huff behind you. “They’re toys. Weren’t you saying you were bored?”

It had been boring. After a week of toting you around, quizzing you on your world, crops, government systems, and various other minutia, you found out that your world did in fact have a ruler, unbeknownst to a simple farmer like yourself, and had happily agreed to join the imperium of man, as it was apparently called.

All Mortarion asked for in payment was you.

“You entertain me.” Was all he had offered as explanation.

And thus you had been stuck in his quarters for two weeks, losing your mind at the lack of work to do. You’d taken up trying to draw, but that only entertained so long. You tried to read, but you were barely literate in your own tongue, let alone what your master called “high gothic”. What use did a farmer have for reading? You’d tried to clean up, but there was barely anything in the room to tidy.

You refocus on the colorful display, reaching out to touch one of the bright objects. ”It’s really soft...” You say, picking up one of the toys. It vaguely looks like some sort of animal, furry with stylized ears, but beyond that you can’t imagine a use for the thing.

“How is it a toy?” You ask, turning to try and look at your new masters face over your shoulder.

He frowns slightly. “What were toys on your planet?”

“Wooden blocks, mostly. Or the Hoop game.” You say, then add with a fond smile, “and dolls, made of water-reeds.”

He sighs. “Well, think of these as the… reed dolls. They are stuffed animals, you’re supposed to find them pleasant.”

You look back to the unnaturally bright creature in your hands. “what color is this?”

You yelp as you are dropped to your feet, stumbling a little.

Mortarion turns you around by the shoulder, face grimacing in disbelief. “I don't enjoy being teased.” He huffs.

You frown. “What-”

“You know purple.” He snaps, but it sounds less angry and more desperate. “You cannot tell me you don't know the color purple.”

You look at the thing in your hands. If you absolutely had to answer, life or death, what color it was, you'd only be able to say not red but not blue.

You look back up to see mortarion's face more stern. “your planet was quite brown and hazy, I suppose.” He said. “I can… understand that.” For a moment you see something flicker behind his gaze, but it is gone before you can guess it.

You tilt your head in a little confusion, intending to ask what he meant, but are turned back to the display instead. Mortarion leans over you to start pointing at the soft creatures.

“Purple.” He says, pointing at the one you held. “Pink, blue, orange…”

You pout. “I know blue-” you point at the pointy eared alien toy, “That's not blue. Blue has more grey in it.”

He sighs. “No, your rivers were not blue, they were just the only thing on that forsaken dirt ball that had a slight hint of blue in it. This is blue.” he says, picking up the bright, smiling creature and handing it to you.

Suddenly, you're being hoisted again, and tucked under the massive man's arm. “you're getting those two, I have chosen for you.” he grumbles. You think you catch him grumble something about doesn't know purple under his breath.

He forces you to pick out a blanket as well, as you'd been complaining about being chilly sleeping on the floor at night. That was true, but you more mean that it is a hard, metal floor, and wanted a bed. You had asked for some straw to weave yourself a proper mattress, but only got an annoyed look in response. He tossed you a pillow to sleep atop instead.

You chose a blanket in pink. You know pink too, but this one is an almost pastel, dusty version that you've never seen in nature. It was pleasant, and didn't hurt your eyes like the other new colors. Plus, it was quilted and full of feathers. He didn’t seem to mind buying something so lavish, so you figure you may as well be comfortable.

When you're finished shopping, Mortarion opens the large satchel he'd taken you out of his room in. You frown, looking up over the toys and blankets in your arms.

“Can't I just walk in…?” You ask.

He presses his mouth to a line. “No.”

You mimic the expression. “I promise I won't try to run again…” you say, referring to the ill fated attempt you'd made to avoid going into the belly of the flying beast when he'd first taken you.

He rolls his eyes. “No. In. And be quiet. I don't want my sons to see you.”

You sigh, shuffling up to the large bag and tossing your new toys inside first. “Can't you just tell them I am some sort of field hand?”

He shakes the bag opening at you. “No. We don't have those, and I don't want them getting strange ideas. In.”

“Stranger than this…?” You mumble to yourself as you crawl into the bag, curling up and situating yourself.

He peers down at you through the opening. “Don't talk back. And there's nothing strange about having a….” He glances away and back quickly, frowning. “A personal serf.”

Your scrunch your brow. “Serf…? But I don't do anything-”

Your words are cut off as he cinches the bag closed and hoists you up, making you squeak in surprise and have to scramble to reposition yourself where you can breathe.

“I said, don't talk back.” He grumbles, setting off on a quick pace that makes you jostle and swing as he walks.

[rocketeer0501]

IDW Starscream X Reader

Rendezvous Part 4

Warnings: none

You pack a few things to take to the lake with you as you plan to be out there until nightfall. There was no one to stop you from going on this little expedition of yours. You had left all of your friends behind when you and your ex had broken up. A new start in a new state. Of course your mother’s death had come around the same time you were looking for somewhere to go. The stars aligned and you ended up in nowhere Appalachia. You had tried to make friends here and get along with your new coworkers. Unfortunately, that had proven more difficult than you had expected. Making and keeping friends as an adult in an established area is hard. After you had piled all the necessities into your car, you gave one last look in the mirror. The unsightly scar on your forehead a glaring reminder that something awful had happened. You sigh as a heavy feeling weighs your shoulders down. It was time to find out exactly what.

“Those idiots! I told them to be careful around the falling ice! Those caves aren’t stable enough anymore!” Starscream slams a data pad against the wall next to Skywarp’s head. The other mech doesn’t flinch as if used to his brother’s outburst, shrugging and putting his hands up in surrender. “Listen I told em but they wouldn’t hear it and now one of us is going to have to report our losses to Megatron. Since you were in charge of this whole thing like you insisted…” Starscream didn’t let him finish. Shouldering past the purple mech to go accept the consequences of his most recent blunder.

The drive to the lake is uneventful and filled with dread. Turning onto that all too familiar dirt track, you notice that the snow was beginning to melt. Though winter was far from over, it was going to be hard to find any useful clues in the slush. You park and don your backpack and snow spikes. Slippery was an understatement. All you needed was to end up in the middle of that lake again. You shudder at the thought. Making your way around the lake, you notice a few things out of place. Broken tree branches, large gashes made in the ground partially covered in snow, and the oddest out of the bunch was the completely shattered boulders in the clearing nearby. When you were younger, you and your sibling used to come and play on these giant boulders. Now they look like they had been bulldozed. On closer inspection, some appear to have been melted. None of this made sense. If it was some new site for construction you’d see yellow tape right? Perhaps a few orange cones? You look up at the broken branches again. Something big came through here. Something impossibly big.

Wiping the energon off of his freshly split lip, Starscream skulks back to his habisuit. His wings droop tiredly behind him. He’s sick of this. Sick of Megatron’s temper. Sick of the incompetent fools he has to command. Sick of taking the blame. It’s as if his leader enjoys seeing him fail. Enjoys taking out his frustrations on him. As much ambition as he has, he can’t imagine a world where Megatron would willingly give up the power he has to the seeker. With a loud frustrated growl he throws the chair at his desk against the wall leaving a dent in the metal. Venting heavily he sends his fist into the wall next. Yelling his frustration to no one in particular. No one to listen because this is a brutal reminder that he’s alone. Always alone. As he leans his helm up against the wall, baring his denta in a grimace and shuttering his optics. His thoughts drift back to that little human. Reaching its tiny hand out to him. As if he were the only one that could fix them. He was the one who nearly froze them to death anyway. Of course it was his responsibility. Everything he touches ends up hurt. Pushing away from the wall he heads towards the exit. He wanted to be alone and he knew the perfect place.

It was nearly nightfall. Dusk had cast purple and pink light over the picturesque mountain lake you had been exploring all day. You sigh and put the notepad and pencil you had just been using to scribble on away. Nothing made sense and you feel like you had wasted a whole day trying to find something out. Kicking a rock as frustration pricks through you, you head back to your car defeated. That’s when you hear it. The distant whine of jet engines. Just as the sun dips below the horizon, plunging the lake in a deep inky blue. You turn towards the noise and reach for your flashlight. The sound was…familiar. You could swear it sounded just like how you remembered in your semiconscious state. You decide to hide amongst the destroyed rocks to see what was making that noise. What you saw made your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

[mtonette]

colored a few snips of the manga for icons. smile

[secondbeatsongs]

as a bi person, the bisexual flag brings me infinite joy and always puts a smile on my face, however as a person who has a Passion for Graphic Design, that undersaturated shade of purple infuriates me when it's used digitally

like, on an actual flag - which was its original purpose - it looks great!

those look fine! lovely, even! with the semi-transparent fabric, the way it catches the sunlight, it looks beautiful!

but now look at how it looks digitally

the pink and blue are so vibrant compared to the sad, lonely lavender!

and let's look at this statement from Michael Page, the creator of the bi flag:

(sidenote: he created this flag in 1998, so if his takes on bisexuality is different from yours, it's okay to notice that! a lot has changed since the 90s when it comes to lived experiences and the way we describe them. but, it's also important to respect his thoughts about this and the way he presented them, even if today, we'd probably not say that bi people "blend unnoticeably into both the gay/lesbian and straight communities.")

so in pantone colors, the pink is 226 C, the blue is 286 C, and the purple of the flag is 258 C.

but...here's the deal

Michael talks here about how the key to understanding the symbolism is to know that the purple blends into both the pink and blue. and on a physical flag, I think you can see that!

but digitally, it absolutely does not blend. it clashes badly, and looks oddly separate from the other two colors.

which got me wondering...what purple do you get if you actually blend 226 C and 286 C?

oh! oh, my god.

look at that! look at how nicely it fits between those colors!

look at it next to the original color scheme! look at how much more vibrant the purple is!

and friends. this is just blending through rgb! you get even more purple variations when you use other color spaces!

let's compare all of them:

(top: original, lab. middle: lrgb, lch. bottom: rgb, hsl)

look at all of the different purple options you can get just by combining these two colors!

if you want almost too-vibrant saturation, you can go hsl, if you want something more relaxed that's closer to the original, you can go lab or lrgb. and if you want to split the difference, lch is bright and violet, while rgb is there with its saturated but darker purple.

anyway, I guess I don't really have a point here? this isn't so much an informational post as it is Me Getting Weird About Colors, but I think it is a useful lesson about how colors look very different on screens compared to how they look on objects in real life.

and sometimes, I think it's okay to compensate for that.

out of all of these, this is my favorite bi flag:

it's the one where the colors were blended in lab color space. for me, the lighter, softer purple is close enough to the original bi flag purple, while also feeling like a smoother blend of the blue and pink

but that's just me! and it might not even look the same to you, since every screen is different, because technology is a nightmare!

anyway, thank you for coming with me on this colorful journey! I will now retreat back to inkscape and make pained sounds about inkstitch gradients until something tangible pulls me back into reality

[sellenite]

cherry blossoms 01 pairing: virgin!Choso x fem!reader contents: phone sex, mutual masturbation (f! and m!), JOI (m! receiving), Choso's first orgasm, praise kink (but in the softest way possible), friends to lovers, soft-smut word count: 1.9K MDNI | 18+

virgin!Choso who met you shortly after he met Yuji. He was wary of most people, but he thought your eyes were kind and pretty, and your voice was soothing and soft as you introduced yourself to him. He blushed when you asked him what his name was and he told you, still a little nervous. And then you smiled up at him, so sweet and bright, and told him yours and he swore it became his new favorite word.

virgin!Choso who started spending more time with you, because you made him feel safe. He was used to violence, used to being treated like a weapon by the people who had claimed to be his “allies.” But everything felt different with you. You helped teach him about the world, helped him to understand himself. You were patient and gentle, warm sunlight on the cold, barren existence that had been his life for so many years prior.

virgin!Choso who liked hearing you laugh more than anything. Sometimes he would make you laugh on accident, sometimes on purpose, but he didn’t really care either way. He liked watching the way your eyes creased at the corners, sometimes the tip of your nose. He liked when he made you laugh really hard too, when little tears would roll down your cheeks and the sounds of your giggles would be cut off by your panting. He made you laugh really hard today when he so innocently asked about something he had heard Yuji say to Megumi:

“Yuji was talking about something called ‘sloppy toppy’… Do you know where you get that from?”

You swore you were going to die of asphyxiation from the way your body convulsed and curled in on itself. Choso didn’t understand what was so funny, but he smiled as you wiped tears from your eyes.

virgin!Choso whose eyebrows knitted together intensely when you told him what “sloppy toppy” meant. He understood the basics of sex (as in he knew that it was how humans reproduced), but he had never experienced the desire for it or feelings of lust. But this new vocabulary word had introduced so many questions he had never considered before; how sex could just be for pleasure, how many different ways you could have it, what it felt like... The blush on your cheeks darkened as his questions turned more intimate, letting his genuine curiosity guide him.

“The first and most important thing about having sex is that you feel safe with the person you’re having it with,” you explained to him after a while of answering his questions.

“Safe like how I feel with you?” Choso asked you softly, looking into your eyes with his deep purple ones. You felt your breath catch in your throat, your cheeks blushing pink. You nodded softly, but gently changed the subject.

virgin!Choso who couldn’t help but go home that night and think about everything you had taught him. He thought of your pretty eyes as you explained everything to him in your soothing voice. He thought of the way your soft lips looked when you smiled or how they glistened when you wet them with your tongue. He laid in bed and felt an unfamiliar pressure in his pants, almost as if he was in pain. He shifted around, trying to get the feeling to go away but it felt like all he could focus on was his dick. He lifted up the waistband of his sweatpants to look at himself, seeing his cock resting stiffly against his stomach, swelling up as fluid leaked from the tip of it. He groaned low in his throat, suddenly wishing you were there with him in his room. He wanted you to be there to help him; to explain in your soft, sweet voice what was happening to him, why his cock was so hard and why it was dripping so much.

virgin!Choso who called you because he just couldn’t take it anymore and he didn’t know what to do.

“Choso? Everything okay?” You asked him in your sweet voice, slightly concerned because it was almost 1:00 AM at this point and he usually didn't call you this late.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he held the phone up to his ear with one hand, the other pushing the waistband of his sweatpants down to free his throbbing cock. He groaned at the feeling of the fabric brushing against his sensitive balls as he shifted them down.

“It’s so hard right now and it keeps leaking… I don’t know what to do,” Choso’s deep voice whined over the phone.

“It’s-? Ohhh…” You felt your breath catch in your throat as his words sank in, sitting up in your bed as you heard his needy tone. You bit into your lip, feeling a steady ache between your thighs building at the sound of his voice alone. You took a deep breath as you collected yourself the best you could.

“Umm, well… Sometimes the best way to make it go away is to make yourself cum,” you explained softly, feeling an odd mix of embarrassment and arousal at the same time. Choso was your friend, and he was calling you so innocently about his problem, he probably didn’t even realize how erotic it was.

virgin!Choso who did in fact realize how erotic it was when hearing your soft voice on the other end of the line made his cock twitch.

“I don’t know how…” Choso groaned softly in response to your suggestion, watching the fluid leak from the tip of his aching cock and drip onto the bottom of his stomach.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the sound of his voice, simultaneously tensing your thighs together as your own need grew rapidly. You bit your lip as your next response bounced around in your head for a few moments before you answered.

“I could… Tell you how… If you want,” you offered softly, your voice like a sweet whisper in Choso’s ear. Choso nodded quickly as his hand gripped onto his phone a little harder.

“Please,” he said softly, and it took everything in your power to not moan at how hot his husky voice sounded when he was so desperate for you.

virgin!Choso whose phone was now on speaker as you guided him through how to touch himself. He wrapped his large palm around his girth, groaning in pleasure as you told him to use the leaky fluid from his tip to slide his hand down his length. He listened obediently, his breath shaky as he followed the rhythm of your voice, telling him to slide his hand down… up… down… up… down… up…

He couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper as your voice controlled his every movement, feeling his hips twitching, jerking up into his hand instinctively. The sounds were so erotic: his whimpers through the phone; the soft, wet sounds you could hear coming from the movement of his palm over his skin. You were trying so hard not to touch yourself, your thighs squeezing together impossibly tight as you bit into your lip to suppress the urge to moan back in response to his whiny breaths.

“Squeeze your fist a little tighter when you get to your tip, Choso… Does that feel good?” You asked him, your own breathing getting a little heavy from trying to remain composed.

“Yes… Yes… Feels so good,” Choso whimpered as he fisted his cock on the other end of the line. You let out a soft moan of your own. You didn’t even remember moving your pillow, but there it was, in between your legs as you humped your aching, panty-clad pussy into it.

virgin!Choso who heard your soft moan and he almost came on the spot, his breath stuttering as he heard your angelic voice sound so lewd.

“D-do that again… Please,” he begged softly, increasing the pace of his hand as his hips thrusted up into the tight grip of his fist. His head was tilted back into his pillow, eyes almost closed, his lids so heavy from pleasure. You could envision all of it now as your own eyes squeezed shut, grinding into your pillow a little harder so the seam of the casing rubbed against your swollen clit. You heard the wet sounds of his fist sliding up and down his shaft and you moaned a little louder as you rubbed your clit into the pillow.

Choso whimpered as he heard your moans through the phone. He could feel a coiling pleasure building in his lower body quickly now, every thrust into his fist making him feel even more desperate. The sounds he was making were breathy and frantic as he braced against the dizzying pressure of the newfound sensations. His body was acting on pure instinct, pushing himself rapidly towards an unknown edge.

He whimpered your name out and you knew he was close. Your own arousal only increased as you imagined it was him you were humping so desperately as he whined beneath you. Your fingers slipped into your panties, sliding into your soaking hole as you rocked against them, moaning loudly as you felt your own climax building.

“K-keep stroking your cock for me, Cho… Want you to cum nice and hard for me, okay?” Your voice was breathless and punctuated by your own soft moans as you heard Choso groaning and whimpering in agreement as he loudly fucked into his fist. His back arched as he thrusted his swollen cock up into his palm, wishing it were your hand, your mouth, or the space between your thighs that he now realized he was longing to see.

virgin!Choso who sobbed your name out as he came into his fist, fucking up into his hand as ropes of his warm cum shot out of his swollen cock and fell back onto his hand, his abdomen, his thighs... His balls were so heavy—his thick cock twitching with every spurt that released from his slit—and his hips jerked up as he painted his body with his seed. He whimpered as it kept coming, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut as he panted and moaned loudly. You could hear him whine louder from the other end of the phone, as you brought yourself closer and closer to your own climax.

“So good, Choso… You did so good,” you praised him breathlessly, your own body leaning forward as you moaned into the phone. You rolled your hips furiously into the pillow, bolstered by his desperate whimpers as you came around your fingers. You whined for him now too, riding out your own high as Choso’s breathing slowly returned to normal on the other side of the phone.

virgin!Choso who broke the silence first.

“Did you… Did you cum too?” He asked breathlessly, plump lips parted slightly as he stared up at his ceiling, eyes still half-lidded as he came down from the high of his first orgasm.

You swallowed as your body relaxed into your bed, pillow still trapped between your thighs.

“Um yeah, I did,” you laughed a little nervously. The reality of what just occurred between the two of you was sinking in now that you both had climaxed. There was some silence on both ends as you both breathed heavily.

“Good,” Choso said softly, smiling up at his ceiling. “Maybe next time… We could do it together?”

virgin!Choso who would not be a virgin for much longer after that night!

PSA: thank you so much for reading <3

[incognit0slut]

On camera

PART 4 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Roommate!Spencer x Camgirl!Reader Spencer requests to take on a more involved role in one of your live streams.

content: (18+) 4k, exhibitionism/voyeur, reader wears lingerie, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, overstimulation (surprisingly it’s him for once), and a hint of cockwarming at the end a/n: this is the second part to a special show although you don't necessarily have to read it to understand what’s happening. this took a while because… there was a little pressure? i didn’t expect people to wait on this i hope it lives up to the expectations, let me know what you think my cuties<3

You nudged your foot against his. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine."

"Are you sure? You've been quiet ever since you sat down."

He felt the words knot up in his throat. The quiet wasn’t hesitation, it was disbelief. The kind that lingered in the gap between what he imagined and what was happening. The lack of conviction that defied logic, even when he was the one who initiated to exist beyond just a pair of hands at the edges of the frame.

"Spence?”

He glanced at you. Deep pools of brown drowning in lust swept over the piece of lingerie you decided to put on tonight. Even without much fashion sense, Spencer could appreciate the soft frills of purple lace clinging to your figure. The garter belt wrapped snugly around your waist, leading down to thin straps that framed your smooth thighs, and every logical thought he tried to root out slipped away the longer he looked at you.

Wait. Purple?

Purple.

Although Spencer was sure it probably had a fancier, specific name that bordered on… lilac? Lavender? Or something else elusive he couldn’t quite pin down. To him it was just purple. He might not have the vocabulary to describe the exact shade, but he knew the way it looked on you was nothing short of captivating.

“You’re wearing purple.”

The frown creased between your brows as you tried to make sense of his sudden observation.

“I am.” Your lips formed a slight pout. “And you still haven’t answered my question.“

And he still couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“I thought you were supposed to be Princess Pink?”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. It was true. Pink was your color. The soft, playful blush had always been part of your alter ego. You shifted on your feet, glancing down at the purple lace hugging your hips before meeting his eyes again. A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and for a moment, you looked almost… shy.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted, your voice so soft it dipped into a tone he wasn’t used to hearing from you. Your fingers traced the edge of the fabric absently, and you glanced away again as if finding the floor more interesting.

“I thought maybe… it might help, you know? Calm your nerves or something.” The nervous laugh creeping out of you sounded strained. “I know you like purple… so I figured…”

The corner of his lips curled upwards. His smile reminded you of the times he caught you off guard with a look that was equally amused and deeply affectionate as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“You wore it for me?”

You felt warmth rise to your neck but decided there was no point in hiding it. “I thought it might make this less scary for you.”

His smile faltered. “I’m not scared.”

“Spencer, you’re about to get naked.”

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

You couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. He stated it so plainly with no hint of self-consciousness or hesitation. And technically, he was right. You had seen him completely, wholly bare more times than you could count by now ever since that first night you stripped away his innocence.

You still remembered how you had pulled him across the line from a curious roommate to someone who wanted to know every inch of your body. And that night turned into another, and then another, until what you were doing stopped being about one-off hookups and started blurring the boundaries you’d drawn between friendship and something more. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on that felt heavier than lust but not quite defined as love.

Spencer was a roommate, a friend, a lover, and eventually, an active participant in your live streams.

His hands were, at least.

You took a step forward, slipping between his legs where he sat comfortably at the edge of your bed. “I have seen you naked,” you agreed, “but they haven’t.”

His hands hovered at your waist, fingers twitching over your lace as if he wasn’t sure where to put them. He glanced up at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips before he finally admitted, “Okay… maybe I am a little nervous.”

“I know, but you don’t need to be. Think of it this way, the people who are going to see us will only be jealous of you.”

“Why would they be jealous of me?”

“Because you’re the one who gets to be with me.” You reached up to brush his hair back from his face, tucking those long, unruly strands behind his ear. “They’re in their rooms jerking off to a screen while you get to kiss me.”

A kiss fell on his lips.

“Touch me.”

Another peck.

“And fuck me.”

He chased your lips this time, his mouth puckering before he closed the gap. His words were muffled against you, “I am pretty lucky.”

“The luckiest,” you mumbled back. A soft smack of a kiss lingered in the air when you pulled away. “And you don’t have to worry, once we get started, you’ll be too distracted to remember what you were even nervous about.”

He hummed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as his grip on your waist tightened. “I think you might be right.”

“Good.” You moved to the side of the bed. “Now let me set up the camera.”

The tripod attached to the top of your computer screen wobbled slightly as you fiddled with it, adjusting the device until the lens angled down. You observed the setup, making sure it captured your body and the way Spencer’s hand rested on your waist without revealing either of your faces.

Perfect.

“You ready?”

Surprisingly, he was.

With a slight nod from him, you turned on the live stream.

Princess_Pink is online.

Spencer’s eyes widened as the chat erupted in a flurry of notifications, messages pouring in so rapidly they blurred into an endless stream of words.

“That’s a lot of people," he muttered under his breath.

“That’s the usual amount of people.”

“No, it’s not,” he countered. “I can’t even keep up with the chat.” Which was saying a lot. For someone who could read entire pages of text in mere seconds, this was overwhelming in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Don’t let them intimidate you.” You turned around and slipped between his legs again, feeling the way his knees instinctively parted to make space. “Just focus on me.”

Spencer barely managed to nod before your lips met his again, and with that, everything else seemed to dissolve. He could never quite get used to how effortlessly you could unravel him with just a kiss. His hands slid up the back of your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers brushing over your skin as they trembled slightly, grazing the delicate strap of your garter before settling firmly on your ass.

A surprised giggle bubbled out of you.

“Easy there,” you murmured, catching his bottom lip gently between your teeth before letting it go with a playful tug. “I have to greet them first.”

He reluctantly loosened his grip, letting his fingers linger on you for a final moment before slipping away to rest at his sides. His eyes remained fixed on you as you turned away, shifting your focus back to the screen and reaching over to the mic.

A faint hum filled the room as it came to life. Spencer could feel his breaths gradually falling into sync before your sweet voice cut through the silence like honey.

“Hi, boys,” you purred, letting the greeting roll off your tongue. “Did you miss me?"

Princess.no1.fan: Princess!!! JadenCums: we missed those tits Adam_4432: fucking hot as always Adam_4432: purple looks good on you Crazydick: who's the skinny loser at the back

You rolled your eyes as the comment popped up in the chat.

“This is getting old,” you said with a sigh, fingers hovering over the mouse. “You’re all obsessed with him.”

With a quick flick of your wrist, you blocked the troll and watched with satisfaction as his name disappeared from the list. Spencer tried to peek over your shoulder. “What did they say?”

“Nothing important,” you replied lightly, brushing it off as you turned back to the mic. "Didn’t I tell you guys to play nice?”

Princess.no1.fan: i always play nice with you JadenCums: they’re just jealous of your boy toy Adam_4432: ignore the haters, babe BigBoss88: let him stay in the background ThickNick: you're gorgeous princess

“Remember, if you can’t behave, you don’t get to stay. And I don’t think any of you want to miss out on what we've prepared."

That was his cue, right? He forced down the tightness in his throat, the sensation catching and shifting like a dry click as his pulse quickened. With a quiet exhale, he slipped off the edge of the bed and made his way behind you.

There was a moment of hesitation. But his doubt faded into the background as he focused on the curve of your waist beneath his fingers. He let his hands move slowly, tracing upward with a touch that lingered at the dip of your spine until his fingers brushed the delicate lace of your bra.

Wide hands covered the soft swell of your breasts.

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“See?” you breathed, pressing your back against him. “You play nice, you get to enjoy the show.”

He couldn’t help but squeeze your flesh, fingers sinking in and then pulling back, the skin dimpling under the pressure before slowly springing back. His veins looked prominent, winding up his forearm like delicate, raised lines that caught the light on camera every time he moved over the fabric of your bra.

And the lace offered the thinnest barrier. He could feel the way your nipple firmed underneath his touch, straining subtly as if it, too, was reaching out for more. He traced small, lazy circles around it, and when you arched into him, he had to bite back a smile. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder instead.

“You’re so good at this,” you muttered, letting your hand drift up to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair.

He let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, his fingers hooking under the edge of your bra’s cup before pulling it down. Your breasts bounced slightly, settling naturally in his palm as the lace slipped away.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

A soft moan escaped you as he began to explore, and Spencer couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction that followed. He was rougher than he intended to be at times, testing the line between what made you shiver and what made you push back for more. It was the way he rolled both of your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gentle pinches and firmer twists, that finally drew the most telling reaction—a subtle, instinctive rub of your ass against him.

He took it as a sign to touch you further, one hand drifting lower while the other stayed firmly in place. Goosebumps prickled over your skin as he slid down your stomach until he reached the edge of your panties. His fingers skimmed along the waistband, and you could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as he brushed his knuckles underneath the delicate material, hesitating.

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That was enough to break through his hesitation. Without a word, he slipped his fingers beneath the lace.

The heat between your thighs greeted him, and there was no mistaking what that meant. You were wet, so wet that his fingers glided over your folds like silk. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of smugness as each subtle shift seemed to draw a new sound from your lips.

He let his fingers slide lower, searching, and when he finally found your clit, brushing his fingertips lightly over it, you jerked in his arms. The tiny, sensitive nub was swollen and begging for attention as it pulsed under his touch like a racing heartbeat. He gave gentle rubs. Slow circles. Steady pressure. The more he explored, the more your arousal smeared against his fingertips.

“Oh—you’re gonna make me cum so fast,” you gasped. You threw your head back against his shoulder, letting out a whine you knew would drive your viewers wild. “What do you think, boys? Should he make me cum now?”

The chat lit up instantly, flooded with messages begging you to let go, but between the rapid scroll of usernames and flashing emojis, one message caught your eye.

Looking4Sluts: no Looking4Sluts: cum on his cock Looking4Sluts sent you a $200 gift.

The notification flashed across the screen, and you felt a surge of adrenaline, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Do you see that, baby?”

He nodded against your neck.

“They want more of you,” you purred, letting your hips roll back against him, pressing yourself closer to his obvious erection. “They want to see just how good you make me feel.”

Your words went straight to his cock. His touch suddenly changed as he began to move faster against your clit, and a choked gasp spilled from your lips. But just as the pressure started to build rapidly, you quickly grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from your panties.

“No, not yet,” you stopped him, turning your head to catch his ear, your lips brushing against the shell. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

He watched as you reached down and slowly hooked your fingers into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs. A thin string of your arousal followed as you lowered the fabric, clinging to the lace before it finally broke and left a glistening trail against your thigh.

His balls tightened painfully.

Princess.no1.fan: Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot JadenCums: fisting my cock so hard Fatcock_777: wreck that damn pussy PussyLover69: i bet she’s fucking tight Looking4Sluts: jesus christ, she’s dripping

Spencer’s mind emptied the moment you leaned forward, planting your palms firmly on the desk for balance. The way your body arched made his pulse stutter, a surge of heat rushing through him so quickly it almost left him lightheaded.

“Like… this? Standing?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Exactly like this.”

He could barely think straight. His hands moved on their own, one sliding over your hips, gripping you firmly, while the other fumbled with his waistband, desperately tugging his pants down. The fabric slid down over his thighs, and he bit back a groan as his cock sprang free, hard and aching, pressing against the bare skin of your ass.

He could feel the heat of you against him, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from sinking into you all at once. He pressed in closer, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse echoing in the ache between you both as the tip of his cock settled right where your folds parted. He rocked his hips in shallow motions.

“Baby…” You tilted your hips just enough to align with him, “no teasing."

But hearing those words only made him want to draw it out even more. He let his bulging head nudge at your hole, barely dipping in before pulling back, feeling the way you instinctively pressed against him.

"Spe—" you faltered, then groaned. "Stop it."

He couldn’t help but smile as his fingers found the straps of your garter belt. He tugged on one gently, watching the elastic snap back against your skin. "But you look so pretty."

"I'll look prettier with your cock inside me."

That did it. With one last shaky exhale, Spencer gripped your hips firmly and began to sink himself into you, feeling the tight, warm stretch of your cunt.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. He felt a slight resistance as your body adjusted to him. He carefully gave a few gentle thrusts, easing in and out just enough for you to relax.

Looking4Sluts: fuck yes JadenCums: she's so fucking tight PeachyKeen420: look at him stretching her PussyFiend69: just watching this is gonna make me cum HotForTits: Fuck her harder dude she wants it

His eyes flickered to that last comment, and something inside him shifted, like a switch flipping. Without another thought, without any lingering trace of hesitation, he tightened his grip on your hips and pushed in all at once.

Your moan tore through the air. So. Fucking. Loud.

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The notification flashed across the screen, but Spencer barely registered it, his control was slipping further away as his hips moved on their own. He started to grind into you, eyes traveling to your connected bodies. You were practically swallowing his cock, clenching so tightly around him that he felt like you were pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go.

In a way, you did beg for it. Each time you met his thrusts with an eager roll of your hips, the sound of skin slapping together echoed around you. He would have thought he’d be shy doing this in front of so many watchful eyes, but the way you moved against him made it impossible to care.

It only made him bolder. He let his hand slide up your back, fingers fumbling slightly with the clasp of your bra before he unhooked it. The straps slipped down your shoulders, sliding down your arms, and then you were completely, utterly naked, except for the garter hugging your thighs.

You were so pretty like this, so incredibly beautiful it made his pulse stutter in his veins. You were so pretty that it was almost disorienting, as if looking at you too long might make him forget where he was. And in his mind, all the lofty notions of beauty and art seemed to fall flat compared to seeing you like this. He needed to see all of you.

A startled whimper left your lips when he suddenly pulled out.

“Can you angle the camera down?"

There was a knowing look in your eyes. Your fingers moved to adjust the tripod, and he wasted no time stripping himself. By the time you were done angling the camera, he was already sitting on the edge of your bed, his cock throbbing against his stomach.

He looked painfully hard. Hard enough that every heartbeat seemed to pulse visibly along his length. You crawled onto his lap.

“Hi.”

His palm found the curve of your hip. "Hi."

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, his fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he urged you to lift your hips. “I think I’m starting to understand why you do this.”

“Yeah?”

"Mhm.” He nudged his tip between your folds. “It’s kind of exciting.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, fingers curling into his shoulder for balance as you began to lower yourself. “See? Nothing to be nervous about.”

A deep groan escaped his lips the moment your walls tightened around him. “You make this seem easy.”

“Maybe you’re just a natural.”

He gave a low chuckle, but it caught in his throat when he felt the full length of his cock buried inside you. “I… ah… I think you’re the one making me look good.”

“Shut up,” you replied with a grin, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “You don’t need any help looking good right now, trust me.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that. He’d never seen himself like this, not in the way you did. But when he glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the screen and the way your hips rolled over him, he started to believe it.

He looked like… well, like the porn he’d watched late at night in his room before you came along. But better. The kind that didn’t seem real, the kind that made him question if anyone actually had sex like that. He knew the vast majority of what’s portrayed in porn is exaggerated with only a small percentage even close to reality. Except this was real. It was really him, and you made it look like he knew what he was doing.

And sure, maybe he did in some way, albeit you being his only real experience. But that was the thing—he knew what made you tick. He could read the way your body reacted, knew the subtle cues that signaled when a whisper of his fingers could coax out a whimper or when the right shift of his hips would leave you trembling. And more than anything else, he knew how much you liked being watched.

He knew just how much it turned you on.

With that thought in mind, Spencer grabbed the firm swell of your ass and spread you open.

JadenCums: fuck yes FatCock69: she’s so wet BigdickXX: damn, I wish I could feel that pussy ILovePinkPrincess: spread her wider TommyGoode sent you a $200 giftDaddyDom92 sent you a $300 gift.

Your body squirmed beneath his hands.

“Babe… what are you doing?”

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Giving them what they want.”

Then he spread your flesh even further, fingers digging into your supple skin as he held you open. The sight was undeniably lewd, and yet he couldn’t deny the surge of pride swelling in his chest as he held you like this, putting you on full display. But more than that, it was what you wanted. The tension coiled in his muscles as he thrust his hips up, watching the movement play out in the reflection over his shoulder.

He could see everything. The slow drag of his cock, the way it stretched you open with each push, leaving no inch of you untouched. Every time he thrust up into you, his length came back slick and shining, catching the light for a split second before disappearing inside you again.

There was something hypnotic in the rhythm, in the way your body seemed to swallow him whole. And somewhere in that steady push and pull, you visibly clenched around him, a vice-like grip that sent a shudder through his body and pulled a deep, harsh groan from his throat.

His hands tightened their grip on you, and before he could think twice, his hips began moving faster. You squealed, an actual high-pitched sound that he hadn’t expected. It was almost cute in a way—if cute was even the right word for what was happening. But there was nothing cute about the way his body reacted to that sound.

His hips bucked upward, again and again by an instinct he couldn’t control. He was so lost in the sensation of your warm, slick pussy that he barely registered the rising tension in his own body. It wasn’t until his muscles locked up, his hips jerking with one final, forceful snap, that it all crashed over him.

Oh shit.

A sudden rush of heat coursed through him as he spilled inside you, the realization hitting him a second too late. His breath came in shallow gasps, a deep groan escaping his throat as pleasure overwhelmed him, leaving him stunned and gasping for air.

You paused, feeling the unmistakable warmth of his release slowly seep inside you. “Baby?”

His eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, sliding his hands up your waist. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—that was—”

Fast didn’t even come close to describing what happened.

You cut him off with a soft laugh, shaking your head as your fingers gently cupped his jaw. “Oh, honey,” you cooed. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

His eyes flickered to the camera behind you. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

You followed his gaze, then turned back to him with a smile. “Of course not,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair. “You kind of made everything better, actually.”

His brows knitted together. “I did?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Do you know…”

You started to roll your hips again.

“How hot it is…”

A soft squelch filled the air.

“To fuck with your cum inside me?”

He could barely comprehend the words that had just left your mouth, let alone the feeling of you moving against him. His eyelids struggled to stay open, the question catching in his throat before it spilled out in a breathy whisper. “Hot?”

“Insanely hot.”

Spencer couldn’t describe what happened after that. Obscene didn’t even begin to cover it. Surreal, maybe? But even that word felt lacking. It was all too real. You were rocking your hips on his lap, and the wet, sticky sounds filling the room were undeniably his own doing.

He held your hips tighter, half in an effort to steady himself, half because he didn’t know what else to do. The words were gone. Logic was gone. The only thing that existed was you, grinding against him with the same intensity that had already undone him once.

And he knew he was going to lose it again.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressing gently against his. “Spence, baby,” you whispered, making sure your voice was soft, just loud enough that only he could hear. “Can you fuck me again?”

He couldn’t say no even if he tried. His hands slipped beneath your thighs, fingers curling with just enough force to lift you, tilting your hips for better leverage. The shift pulled a startled gasp from you and you clung to him for balance, but he didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. His hips met yours in a swift, demanding snap.

The sound of your body meeting was unmistakable, a rhythmic slap that would’ve made him blush if he were in any state to think clearly. But right now, all he could focus on was the mess he’d made of you, the way his cum seeped out, sliding down his cock in slow drips. Whenever he thrust into you, there seemed to be more spilling out, leaving thick, creamy streaks painted across your inner thighs.

Spencer had messy sex before (all with you, of course) but this was on a whole different level. It was chaotic—unapologetically filthy. The wetness between you spread everywhere. He could feel it pooling against his thighs, trickling down your legs, and the damp sheets beneath you were clinging uncomfortably to his knees while the heady scent of sex hit his nostrils.

And your voice wasn’t helping his self-control. It was high-pitched with a tremor, somewhere between a moan and a desperate whine tumbling out in a jumble of words that barely made any sense. Your voice grew higher each minute, more frantic, until finally, he could make out a few clear words through the haze.

“Gonna c-cum,” you moaned, “I’m gonna cu—ah fuck yesyesyes—”

A final, helpless cry pushed him over the edge.

He came for the second time tonight. He tried to hold back, but the way you were clenching around him, your body pulsing through your sudden orgasm tore down what little control he had left. He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his release overtook him again, shocked that he still had anything left to give as he emptied inside you.

The intensity bordered on painful. He could feel his body pushing to its limits and every pulse of pleasure felt like it was wringing him dry. And it was no less intense for you. You jerked against him, body twitching, sweat beading on your skin. Your muscles tightened and relaxed with the rhythm of his racing heartbeat as the last spark of pleasure finally washed over you.

Neither of you moved for a while after that. The only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the heavy rise and fall of your chests pressed together.

You were the first to break the silence.

“Baby,” you hummed, a soft, breathless laugh escaping your lips, “I think that might’ve been the hottest stream we’ve ever done.”

It took a second for your words to sink in, and when they did, his eyes widened slightly. The camera was still on. The audience was still there. His nose pressed harder against your neck as he tried to hide in embarrassment.

“Really? You’re getting shy now?“

His soft groan vibrated against your skin. “I wasn’t exactly thinking about the camera,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your neck. “It left my mind the moment I… you know.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh, I know. I could tell.”

You started to peel yourself off of him, only for his arms to tighten around your waist. You gave a playful tap on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding you.”

“Why?”

“My brain needs a moment to process this.”

Your hand danced aimlessly across his back. “Still embarrassed?”

“Mortified,” he confirmed.

A giggle slipped out of you, and you wiggled your hips. “We still need to clean up. I don’t think you want to stay like this forever.”

He let out a sound of protest but didn’t loosen his grip. “Just a few more minutes.”

Smiling at his stubbornness, you slid your fingers into his hair, letting your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Spencer," you said gently, making sure the mic didn't pick up your voice. “I need to turn off the cam.”

"They wouldn't mind watching us a little longer."

You sighed, feeling the undeniable stickiness between your thighs. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, and the warmth was quickly turning into a mess that would need attention sooner rather than later. But there was something so sweet about the way he wanted to hold you that it made it impossible to resist.

"Fine," you relented with a quiet laugh, "five more minutes."

[rememberwren]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Easy breezy beautiful premature ejaculation. Hypersexual!Simon/fem!reader. Discussion of edging. Cumming untouched.

-

“If we do this,” he says around his cigarette, “then we do it my way.”

“I’ve never done this before,” you admit cautiously, turning your hands palm up as if to show you have no weapons, no tricks up your sleeve. I’m innocuous, your posture says. His own says: I’m still deciding, with his tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. “This weird, femdom thing. So I appreciate your guidance. Because I know fuck all—“

“You’re no femdom—Jesus, fuck, I can’t talk about it anymore,” he grits out. He takes a step back and away, creating distance, exhaling a plume of smoke that makes him look strangely ethereal in the evening light. Against your will, your eyes flicker down to just below his belt buckle and oh god. He’s hard. 

“Just from talking about it?”

The look he gives you could melt ice. It could sublimate it. You cringe, knowing you were in the wrong, wishing you could reach out and snatch the words right out of the air. He’s trusting you with this. The last thing he needs is to feel like a joke. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I shouldn’t have—you’re not a, a science experiment or something—“

“Wouldn’t mind that so much. Might figure out what the fuck’s wrong with me. Less interested in being treated like I’m part of a circus troupe,” he grumbles. He drops the cigarette and grinds it to ash beneath his boot. He asks: “Inside?” 

-

Gingerly, so gingerly, he undoes the button of his jeans and unzips them. He holds his breath as he works the denim down his thick thighs. God, is he built: muscles made for more than just show. His history is inscribed on his body in its strength and in its scars, scars of white and pale pinks that darken to purple in the lamplight. He’s wearing boxer briefs, straining at the front from his erection, and they are soaked. You’re surprised that he hasn’t soaked straight through to his jeans. 

“Don’t look,” he grits out through his teeth. You look away, unsure where to cast your eyes to, and settle for shutting them. He explains: “Can’t take the way you’re looking at me.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling your face flush hot. 

“Just—let me—” you hear the sound of fabric rustling. He kicks off his jeans—you can tell by the soft sound of them landing against the floor off the side of the bed. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck.” 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, eyes squeezed shut, hands clenching in your lap. 

“Nothing just—fuck. No way I’m going to last.” He sounds bitterly disappointed. 

“That’s the point of this, right? To get better at lasting?” 

He sighs, a long-suffering sound, like this discussion is well worn and frustrating to him. Something in you shrivels, and it takes your body with it as best as it can, sending your shoulders hunching inwards, your head ducking down. You pick at one of your nails by feel alone, eyes still closed, and nearly jump when his fingers brush your knee. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “You’re right. That’s what this is for. Might as well get used to embarrassing myself.” 

“That’s the spirit." 

He snorts. More fabric rustles, and at length he says: “Alright. You can look. Just…you can look.” 

You open your eyes hesitantly. His cock is right there—and Jesus. It makes sense, proportionally, but it is frightening in a very real sense. You’re already doing the math, measuring in your head and comparing to your past precedents. Ghost would have them all beat, quite comfortably, in length and girth. He’s cut, which surprises you, but isn’t a turnoff. He keeps himself landscaped nicely, which you appreciate, even if it isn’t necessary. 

He is flushed a ruddy pink, the head darker than the rest. As you stare, it jerks, a bead of precum welling at the tip. Suddenly one of his large, scarred hands reaches down and grips the base of his cock in a painful hold, hissing in a breath through his teeth. 

“Can’t look at me like that,” he admonishes again. 

“Like what?” you ask, a little defensive. You’re just looking! You have to look, right? 

“Like you want it,” he mutters. 

God, does he really have no idea? No inkling of how badly you want to sit on that monster in his hands? No notion of how wet you’ve been since your conversation in the parking lot? Sure you aren't like him, not about to spring off if the breeze was just right, but you are anything but unaffected. Still, it seems like the wrong moment to educate him on your attraction to him and his cock, so you do your best to morph your expression into one of unimpressed ambivalence and hoped it helps. 

“I’m ready when you are,” you say, interrupting his deep breathing exercises. He nods but doesn’t give you the go-ahead, not for another minute or two, until his chest stops heaving and he can remove his hand from the vice grip he has around his balls. His cock has a near purple tinge, and you wonder if maybe he should have rubbed one out in the bathroom beforehand just to take the edge off. Oh well, it’s a thought for next time. 

“Go ahead,” he says, like he’s giving you permission to pull the trigger on him during a game of Russian Roulette. 

You reach out—his cock twitches, a nice warm welcome if you’ve ever seen one, but you hesitate. Your hand is dry. Should you ask for lube? How does he usually jerk off? Dry? You have a feeling he doesn’t mind the discomfort; he seems like he has a self-destructive streak a mile wide. His eyes are fixed at a point on the ceiling, his chest unmoving as he holds his breath. You decide that some sort of lubrication is better than none—so you lick a broad stripe up your palm. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, a little punched-out sound. Sometime between opening your mouth and licking your palm, his eyes had transferred from the ceiling to your face, to the flash of your tongue and your wet palm. His eyes widen, irises swallowed up by the pupils, and he says again, more urgently: “Oh fuck.” 

He reaches down to grip the base of his cock again, but it is too late: he cums. His abs are thrown into sharp relief as he tenses with each pulse, cock jerking against his brutal grip. He doesn’t even jerk himself off—just ruins it as you stare with your mouth open and your hand wet, watching him splatter seed against the coarse line of hair that runs from his belly button to his cock all because he watched you lick your hand. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” he groans, throwing one arm across his eyes, breathing heavily. His mouth is flushed a pretty red, like he has been kissing. His hand clenches into a fist as he says: “I’m sorry. I tried not to.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, your nearly brain blue-screening from how turned on you are. You lower your hand and wipe it dry on your leggings. “That’s what this practice is for—so you don’t do it when it really counts. We can try again tomorrow or something.” 

He snorts. “Tomorrow? Give me five fucking minutes.” 

[biteyoubiteme]

pretty boy; bloody nose

fem!reader x bangchan 

synopsis: you're a doctor at a hospital where Chan comes after a fight. 

warnings: 🔞!!! boxer!chan, blood, broken bones, bruises, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding if you squint, 'pretty girl' used once, choking (m!rec), prob forgot some sorry

wc: 4k

an: all the photos of chan at or for the Fendi show have me gagged lol feedback is appreciated!! :)) [m.list] check out my other chan fic :)) [am/pm]

It was your starting shift when Chan came in. clutching his bloody nose with one bruised hand and pressing his other one to his wounded side. “my savior,” he smiled, dimpled cheek prominent even through the pain. He had blood in his mouth, teeth tinted pink with it. 

“Someone had a good night,” you laugh flipping open his chart, “says some minor pain but you seem to have lied seeing as you are currently bleeding right in front of me and you didn’t log it,” 

“my nose is fine, it was checked out by my coach, it should stop bleeding soon,” the rag he has to his face soaked through with red. “and I’m not a liar it’s only a bit painful and I wouldn’t have come in if I wasn’t contractually supposed to,” 

“uh huh,” you nod, tapping your pen against the clipboard you held. “So your nose doesn’t need to be set because your coach, who may or may not have any medical background, said so?” 

his smile widened and the cut on his eyebrow started to leak again from the movement. “exactly,”

“and I don’t need to see what you’re hiding right there,” you point with your pen to his fingers cupping his hip. 

“nope, I’m mainly a bit sore around the arms, so minor pain. I am not a liar,” he shrugs and you let yourself fully take him in past his injuries. He's slouched back against the hospital bed, his white tank splattered with his blood, gray sweatpants slouchy on his hips. if you could see his whole face without his hand in the way you’re sure he’s gorgeous essentially with a smile like that. what you didn’t like was to watch someone's cocky ass waltz in and say they aren’t hurt when it’s obvious they are. 

“well I am also contractually obligated to give you the best care I can offer and as your doctor, I’m here to say I can’t let you go without an exam,” 

“full body?” his tongue running across his teeth as you roll your eyes. it wasn’t exactly professional to let your annoyance show but you didn’t think he would run and tell someone. 

“let's start with your nose,” you turn placing your clipboard down and picking up a pair of gloves, “lean your head back,” 

Chan follows your orders as you walk around the bed to his side. 

“How did you end up here?” you ask, lifting the rag from his face. His nose wasn’t bleeding as much as it must have been earlier but it was still messy. And even with blood smeared all over, he was one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen especially as he grinned up at you. 

“fighting,” he shrugs. 

“Is this the part where you tell me that I should see the other guy?” you reach over to grab some clean gauze before cleaning up his upper lip. 

“Maybe,” he dragged out the word, the smile as flirty as ever.  

you lightly press your finger to his nose to check if it’s broken but only feel a little swelling. “keep your head back to stop the bleeding. let's now see your side and then we will tape up your eyebrow,” 

“I’m perfectly fine,” 

“Not unless I say you are, come on let me see,” 

Chan is slow to lift his shirt but when he does his side is covered in deep purple bruises. “you're going in for a CT,” 

“what? no, I'm fine it was a few hits nothing I haven't felt before,” 

“better safe than sorry I'm sure you've heard that saying before. next time don't go getting into fights,” 

“It's kinda my job,” 

“pretty boys like you shouldn't be fighters, and they shouldn't be putting their perfectly healthy bodies in distress, we need to check for any internal bleeding,” you peel your gloves off tossing them in the bin along with any bloodied gauze, chan's head still laid back as he watches you, “a nurse will be in to take care of your eyebrow and take you for the CT,” you pick up his chart, penning in the request. 

“You're not going to take me?” 

“I'll be back in to discuss the results it shouldn't be too long a wait it's slow tonight,” you didn't look up from his chart as you said it but you did when he said, “I want you to take me,” it's not suggestive in any way but the way that he says it is, deep and throaty like an invitation. his head lobbed to one side watching you, eyes leaving a trail of heat up your body as they trace your figure. 

“I will see you after your results come back,” you say, rushing to get out as fast as possible. it was frowned upon to flirt with patients no matter how hot they looked or how willing they seemed to flirt back. you went on your rounds before getting Chan's results, the nurse bringing them to you with a smile. 

“he will not stop talking about you,” 

“What?” but you can feel your heart thumping all of a sudden. 

“asking questions and whatnot,” she giggles as you pull out his scans. “Does she usually work Thursdays? Is she seeing someone? going on and on,” 

“about me?” You're a little shocked but trying to play it off. 

“if you don't give him your number I will hand mine over,” 

“We cannot give our numbers out to patients,” but your blush is hot on your face. who would know you gave him your number? no one. “we will both be out shortly please have his discharge paperwork ready,” 

“Should I put your number on it?” she jokes and you roll your eyes before pushing his room door open. 

“no internal bleeding,” you say once you close the door. “but you should ice your side the swelling will go down soon,” 

“I told you nothing was wrong, he couldn’t hit hard enough to cause internal bleeding anyways,” Chans sitting up now with his legs off the bed. 

“you should be getting checked regularly for damage that is visible, especially if you have pain,” 

“It was only a little pain,” he rolls his shoulders back making his tank top stick to his pecks. 

“you should take an over the counter pain med and then try to avoid fighting,” 

“Now where’s the fun in that? if I hadn’t been sent here I wouldn’t have met you,” dimples on display just for you. 

“uh huh sure,” you wave at him to stand, “Let's get you out of here before you steal the hearts of the nurses,” 

“the only heart I’m interested in is yours,” it’s cheesy but you can’t help the smile it gives you. “Let's go,” you laugh, pulling open the door for him. when he walks out he turns to face you moving backwards. 

“if I got into another fight would I be able to ask for you specifically or would you need to give me a number to hold onto just in case?” 

“flirty and shameless,” you say, walking him to the front desk to check out. 

“that did not answer my question,” 

“I’m sure you could find me in the hospital directory if you looked hard enough,”

“and if you’re not working? will it go straight to voicemail or will I somehow be able to get you over to take care of me?” 

“for someone who didn’t need my help at all for his little bit of pain, he sure is worried for his safety now,” 

“I was told by a gorgeous doctor that I should be concerned with putting my perfect body and pretty face in the line of fire,” 

“I said you had a perfectly healthy body,” you shake your head at him.

“You did say my face was pretty tough,” he leans against the desk elbow propped up to the perfect height to flex. “And I'm sure I can show you how perfect my body can be,” 

“goodbye Chan,” you wave your fingers in his direction walking away before you embarrass yourself in front of your coworkers. 

-

It's only a week later when you see Chan's chart in front of you again. “This one was asking for you by name,” the nurse comments. 

“of course he was,” but even as you say the words you can't help but feel the fluttering in your stomach. most people who came in you didn't see again and if they flirted you were happy to see them gone but Chan wasn't making you feel that way. 

he was alone in his room when you went in. laid out on the bed with his hand to his nose. It was like deja vu only now his tank was black instead of white. blood dripping down to his lips that smile directed at your heart. his eyebrow looked better but was still slightly discolored from last week. 

“I think this time it's broken,” but he's not showing any pain if it's the truth.

“your nose again? you’re too pretty to be taking punches to the face,” you pull on a pair of gloves walking over to inspect him. 

“That's why they do it, they are jealous,” he lifts away the gauze the nurse must have given him. 

His nose is clearly broken and needs to be set. you press your finger lightly to the bridge checking out the bone. Chan's eyes flutter shut and he lets out a weak moan, so soft that you probably wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close to his face. you try to ignore the sound feeling along his cheekbones but when you press to the corner of his eye he lets out another soft whine. 

“I'm going to have to reset it,” you say pulling your hands away from him, “you can set up an appointment-“

“can't you just do it now? I don't think I'll need all the fuss of local anesthetic i think I can handle it,” 

“It's going to hurt,”

“it didn't hurt much when I was hit I'm sure it won't be too bad the other way around,” 

“You know it's okay to admit when it's painful,” you say, prodding again at his nose, he gives another soft moan at the touch, shifting his hips and leaning further back. 

“I like it, so even when it's a little painful I don't mind,” 

you move to grab a splint for his nose before preparing him, “I'll be quick so you shouldn't feel much but it will still hurt,” this wasn't the first time you've had to fix someone's broken nose but it would be the first time you were worried about messing up someone's face. you had full trust in your abilities but your anxiety was not helping. 

Chan crossed his arms nodding before you pressed the heel of your palm to his nose, “Deep breath,” he followed your instructions and without warning you reset his nose. He flinched knuckles bleached from holding on so tight to himself, moaning as you pulled your hands back. you grabbed the split to finish the job, “see quick and easy,” his voice thick before he clears it. “I think I need a minute,” 

“I can get something for the pain real fast,” you say tugging off your gloves already moving to get the meds. 

“no no I don't need that, I just need a second,” his head is leaned back, throat exposed, arms still crossed while he shifts his hips again drawing your attention to his waist. you can clearly see the outline of his hard bulge through his gray sweatpants. 

“Oh!” you turn around fast to try and give him some form of privacy feeling your face get hot. “I um- I'll just-“ you cut yourself off picking up his chart and moving to the door.  you close the door as he tries to say something but you’re already down the hall trying not to think about what you saw. you don’t really care it’s not the first time you’ve seen someone turned on in the hospital although all the other times you rolled your eyes. Now you’re stuttering and trying not to think of Chan in a way that could get you into trouble. 

but it’s all you can think about.  

how long would he need? would he be actively trying to get rid of his problem mentally or physically? what would have happened if you had stayed? would it have been beyond awkward or would you officially have to resign for having sex while on shift? 

you give Chan's chart to another doctor to check over your work and send him off. you didn’t want to go in and embarrass him or embarrass yourself for that matter. so you hid like a coward. 

-

it was a rare night off for you and you took the opportunity to spend it with your old friends. 

at a nightclub on a busy strip downtown your friends decide to bar hop. you had a late shift tomorrow anyway and didn’t care about sleeping in. At the third bar, your friend's boyfriend starts talking about a fight happening across the street. “the guy's undefeated I swear I just wanna see the end,” 

“If you’re dragging us along you’re paying the entrance fee,” your friend says before another pipes up, “and a drink each!” 

“Fine, fine let’s go, it's already started!” all of you rush across the street joining the moving queue as people file into the building. 

You can hear the cheering already, the announcer shouting over the speakers, your shoes sticking to the floor as if you were still at the bar. but this is far from it, people are jostling each other around, and the seats all first come already full. it’s not until you’re making your way up the steps of the bleachers that you see who’s in the ring. 

Chan is shirtless and glistening with sweat, hair stuck down across his forehead, lip bleeding around his mouth guard. muscles rippling as he delivers a blow to his opponent. 

you’re almost shocked still and unmoving in your walk up to a seat. someone behind you tries to move past you and you stumble, unaware of your surroundings. 

Chan doesn’t know why he looks up because he always tries to focus solely on the person in front of him determined to beat him. but he does let his eyes flicker up to the stands to see you apologizing to someone moving past you. He's caught off guard by your presence and the right hook that makes his head snap away from you. 

the crowd shouts in disapproval as you take your seat. Chan is now bleeding from his nose like every other time you’ve seen him. The droplets of blood fell to his toned stomach each breath pushing the trail of blood further down. 

you’ve never been into fighting, not watching or participating but now you’re fully invested. you don’t even want a drink when your friends ask if you need anything. your eyes follow Chan as he delivers hit after hit to the man in front of him. and when they call a winner you’re up out of

your seat cheering along with the rest of the watchers. 

“omg is he looking at us? I swear he’s looking right at us,” your friend laughs next to you. 

Chan is in fact looking up the stands at you. That dimpled smile on full display after he’s taken his mouth guard out. when he sees you looking back he mouths ‘Wait for me’ and you’re putty. you don’t even try to think that he could have been talking to someone else because you’re delusional enough not to give a fuck. 

when you make it down to where Chan is signing autographs you’re a little nervous after how you left things. but that goes away when he grins, split lip reopening. “my favorite medical professional,” 

“I thought I warned you not to get your pretty face in the way of someone’s fist?” 

“How else am I supposed to see you if I don’t come in needing your assistance?”  

the crowd around you is clearing and you’ve already told your friends not to wait on you so when Chan asks, “Can we talk?” nodding his head in the direction of the locker rooms, you don’t turn him down. 

He leads you to the hallway just out of the way from everyone else. “I wanted to apologize for the last time I saw you,”

“no no, I should apologize I shouldn’t have given you someone else to work with,”

“no really I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable I swear I was trying really hard not to have any kind of reaction I just-“

“It's okay truly I wasn’t uncomfortable it’s natural although I've never reset someone’s bones and had that happen-“

“I'm sorry,” he chuckles, rubbing at the back of his neck, arm flexing and you realize he’s still shirtless. all finely toned muscles on display the damp towel used to wipe away any blood and sweat thrown over his shoulder. but a spot of blood had been missed right at the band of his shorts. without thinking you reached out to brush it away with your thumb. 

Chan and you stood frozen, his breath shallow as he watched your finger wipe at his skin just low enough to send a shiver down his spine. 

“Are you doing anything else tonight?” he asks when you pull away. 

“you were just in a fight and you still want to go out?” 

“with you? yes. With anyone else? no,” you’re standing close together and when someone walks past to reach the locker room door Chan moves in blocking you against the wall. your hand comes up and rests on his ribs, his bruises gone from his first visit only now to be replaced with fresh ones. 

he’s leaning down close to you as another person moves around you two to enter the locker room. Chan's breath fanning your ear before he whispers, “We don’t have to go out, we could stay in…” 

he technically was not your patient, you weren’t at work and you weren’t obligated to deny yourself anymore. not when Chan was standing here willing and you were wet from just watching him win his match. 

“Okay,” your voice was low and weak but all the confirmation Chan needed to pull you along after him. 

past the locker rooms are a few offices and Chan knows there’s a secluded restroom right by there. you don’t even think twice as he shuts the door behind you locking it. you’re both on each other the second Chan turns around. hot and heavy kisses down your neck and over your collar as Chan palms your ass over your short skirt. your hands tugging at his hair but not the way Chan likes, “harder,” he breathes between kisses, “I want it to hurt,” and when you do his moan is music to your ears. 

Chan walks you back into the wall pressing you against the tile next to the sink. 

“When I thought about fucking you I never imagined you dressed like this,” Chan lifts your leg to his hip, hot hand running under your thigh and up under your skirt. 

“disappointed we can’t play doctor?” 

“I don’t care as long as I finally get to have you,” Chan's free hand slides up under

your shirt palming you over your bra. his mouth is back on yours as he wedges his knee between your legs. his thigh placed right against your clothed clit. 

Chan's hand fits right in the pit between your hip and thigh, fingers digging in as he pulls you forward on his thigh. 

your hips start to move against him, moaning into his mouth as you rock back and forth against him. “My pretty girl wants me so bad,” he breathes, planting kisses down your jaw. “I can already feel how wet you are for me,” 

with anyone else you would have been embarrassed about how needy you were but you didn’t care with Chan. not when he had been on your mind for weeks now, when every time you got off recently you had been imagining Chan's fingers doing the job instead of your own. 

Chan taps your other leg muttering, “Jump,” and you follow his orders, Chan moving to set you down on the sink’s countertop. He pulls away, hooking his fingers in your panties and tugging them down your legs. He stays on his knees leaning over to kiss you on your inner thigh. you tug off your shirt tossing it on the counter next to you. 

you cup Chan's jaw letting your thumb run over his bruised bottom lip, your finger moves over his nose brushing down the slope. Chan's smile is lazy, his gaze pouring over you. “you’re healing nicely,” 

“to have your hands all over me I’d make a million more visits, and,” he lifts himself until his lips are brushing yours, “I love the pain,” 

you slip your hand into the waistband of Chan's shorts wrapping your fingers around his stiff length. He moans loudly against your cheek as you stroke him. Chan's hand pushes under your skirt pressing his thumb into your clit, circling slowly. 

“I can’t wait anymore,” Chan grunts pushing your skirt up higher around your hips, dragging you closer to the edge of the counter before you remove your hands from his already leaking cock. 

Chan pushes down his pants to free himself before he’s lining up with your entrance. 

he doesn’t hesitate to thrust in fully pressing his pelvis to yours. both of you moan out your arms wrapping around his shoulders. chan inches out before slowly pushing back in. You whine, laying your head back until it’s laid against the mirror. 

you wrap one of your hands around Chan's neck, “is this okay?” 

Chan nods, “Harder please harder,” you squeeze enough to make his eyes flutter, the same way they had when you were back in the hospital fixing his nose, his hips finally picking up pace. every drag of his cock makes a bolt travel down from your spine to your knees. your back arching, Chan drags his teeth down your throat. 

your free hand scratches down Chan's back and you move your hips to meet his, trying to build any friction. 

“you feel so deep,” your voice not sounding like you as Chan angels himself up brushing against your g-spot. your legs wrapped around him shake at the contact, your walls squeezing around his cock. 

“I wanna hear you cum for me,” Chan moves his fingers between you rubbing your clit until you see spots, knowing exactly what you needed. 

Chan picks up his thrusting pace, punishing you with his cock, tip pressed right against the deepest part of you. “cum inside me please,” you beg, your nails usually nicely kept for work scratching him like they weren’t shortened. 

His thrusts falter at your words, his moan in your hair loud and echoing in the small room. “please I want it, I want to feel it,” your fingers around his throat give a squeeze and Chan knows he won’t be able to deny you.  

with a few sloppy thrusts, Chan is coming hard enough that his upper half gives out, laying on you. your hands leaving his throat and twisting in his hair as he shoots out ropes of hot cum inside you, hips jerking. 

The feeling of his release and his fingers on your clit send you over the edge, your legs locking around him as you cry out his name. Chan's slow thrusts help you ride out your high. both of you panting arms wrapped around each other not wanting to let the other go. 

clarity starts to set in as you catch your breath, your hair sticking to the back of

your neck. chan pulls out, the slick sound making you pulse around nothing. Chan watches as your combined cum slides out. He lifts your leg under your thigh using his thumb to spread your pussy lips apart watching as more comes out. “Next time I’m at the hospital I won't be able to forget this,” he drags his thumb up to your clit making you jump. spreading the slick around, “I might even ask for you to treat me this well again,” 

[noveauskull]

Her Highness And Her Gem [NSFW]

characters: rafayel x reader

warnings: 18+, smut, spoilers for Rafayel's "wander in wonder" card, fingering, oral (f! receiving), reverse cowgirl, doggy style, prone bone, praising (m! receiving), no protection (piv), cocky princess reader, dominant reader, Lemurian Rafayel, porn with P L O T

-----

"What's going on? Why is everyone gathered in her Highness's throne room?"

"Didn't you hear? Messengers from every corner of the land brought these so-called "gifts" for her highness"

"Gifts?"

"It's to alleviate her boredom, apparently..."

You continued to listen to the unnecessary chattering of the maids surrounding the room, holding back from rolling your eyes at how ridiculous the entire situation was.

This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't escaped the palace for the 10th time this month.

It can't be helped. Your boredom was going to kill you before your age did, what's so wrong with wanting to see the outside world once in a while?

You were getting tired of every offer given by other Kingdoms and Empires through men. It was starting to get old by how they all carried good looks but no talent in bed, even a few aphrodisiacs couldn't satisfy you.

You weren't the best princess out there. Rebellious, cruel and salacious. Those were the words often used by others to describe you, most people expect a princess to be on their best behaviour, kind-hearted and pure, but you couldn't care less about such unimportant things.

"Bring them in, quickly" You wasted no time in telling the female messenger, and she nodded before clapping twice as a signal.

As of right now, while your eyes stared into the men walking in the room with attires of different erotic styles, your brain was stuck on finding another way to escape, and where you would visit once you had succeeded.

"Your Highness, have a look. These men are all pleasing to the eye"

Without realizing it, you let out a disappointed and stress-filled sigh. Make the female messenger take it as you are feeling unsatisfied with the line of men in front of you.

You didn't bother clearing up the misunderstanding as you would have preferred them all gone anyway, but then you watched as the female messenger winked at the group. They all suddenly made way for a certain individual.

"Would your highness be open to a handsome Lemurian to stroke the flames of your curiousity?" She said with a proud smile.

Your eyes immediately found a place on the violet-haired man, wearing a gold-adorned outfit that barely did anything to cover his erotic body. The sight was quite a surprise as you never expected to hear the words "Lemurian" along with it.

Without realization, you had a mischievous grin plastered on your face.

Watching how the Lemurian man looked uninterested while maintaining eye contact with you, his hands were tied with thick cuffs to prevent him from trying to escape. Maybe that's why he didn't look too happy.

"Very well, the rest can leave" You waved off the female messenger and her group of men away, signalling the maids to escort them out as you got up from your seat.

You walked down from your throne and stood in front of the Lemurian man, eyeing him closely. His eyes were in a mixed hue of blue, purple and pink, beautiful and unique like how they said Lemurians would be.

Every mole on his face and body was being observed from your lenses, you could tell how nervous he became from having your lecherous gaze on him, you could feel his breath against the top of your head as he avoided making eye contact with you.

Feeling impatient, you used your finger to hook onto the jewellery on his neck, giving him a small tug as you walked him towards your bedroom like you would with a dog on a leash. Surprising him but knowing that following you instead of struggling would do him less trouble.

The entire walk down the corridor towards your room was silent, all you could hear was his bare feet making tiny pitter-patter noises as your heels clicked in a rush, your mind was bent on one thing only this evening.

To tame this Lemurian as your own.

Before you could notice the smirk on your face, you threw the male onto your bed, watching him gasp in shock from the sudden impact, his eyes immediately locking into yours as you had both your hands on the sides of his head, pinning him with nowhere else to look but you.

"I've been waiting for a Lemurian to fall onto my hand for a while now..." You spoke in a hushed voice, laced with a hint of arousal. Whoever put him in this outfit was going to be rewarded handsomely.

"I heard the creatures of the sea possess beautiful voices, won't you entertain me?"

As you asked him the question, you could see him frown before turning his head away from your gaze in an attempt to protest your request. It seems that he was playing hard to get.

"Well, I do like it when they put up a little fight" You let out a wicked laugh, watching his face look nervous once more. Maybe he could tell you were a bit crazy through the look in your eyes.

However, you weren't interested in playing with a toy that wasn't working. So you decided to throw your body down to lie next to the violet-haired male, heaving out a sigh as you stretch your arms. Your actions make the individual beside you flinch and stare at you in confusion.

"If you don't plan on speaking, then you will never be free from this place," You told him, your eyes shut with your arms resting at the back of your head, legs crossed creating a position of an unfeminine and careless manner.

"I was born in this very palace, and I will die here without a single ounce of freedom"

Curious to know if he was listening, you opened your eyes to gaze at him once more, he had already been sat up, facing you with a distrustful look, but still interested in what you had to say.

"If you don't believe me, think about how empty the palace is. How there isn't a single man, and why I need these messengers to find me another man every week" You watched his face soften, and while what you were saying could be true, most of it was to get him to open up to you.

A cruel princess you may be.

You weren't lying when you said you were lonely. But hinting to him that you let the men that came to your chambers off to "save" them was definitely a lie. You just didn't find them entertaining after a week.

"You will be no difference. After a week you can go back to your home, and I will find another man to bring into my chambers"

You switched your position to laying onto your stomach, hand resting under your chin as your other hand went to poke the Lemurian's stomach, tracing his abs.

"...If you agree, speak your name" You didn't bother to look at his face as you had a smile imprinted on your face, finding entertainment in tracing nonexistent patterns on his muscular body.

It took a silence so deep you could hear your own breath, waiting for a reply from the male. But after a few more seconds, you concluded that he just wasn't interested in what you had to offer, so you took your hand off his body, pushing yourself up.

"Rafayel"

You froze, hands resting on the bed as your head snapped to look at the Lemurian's face, you observed the look on his face. He seemed calm and willing this time, seeing him look so obedient had you grinning, your eyes squinting by how big you were smiling as you pushed your face forward to his.

"No takebacks" You pressed your lips into his, feeling him gasp in your mouth, however, he didn't protest, letting you kiss him so rough that you had him lie back down on the bed as your body hovered over his once more.

Right when you were getting into the mood, you pulled away from his lips, clicking your tongue in annoyance while Rafayel panted from how intense your kissing was. Rafayel's hands were right on your belly, the cold hard metal that was holding his hands in place was making you uncomfortable.

"I'll uncuff you. That is if you can promise me you'll be good"

The Lemurian didn't seem responsive, instead, he was just panting restlessly, partly to catch his breath or to regain his composure. Not noticing how lewd his face looked and that the pupils in his eyes turned to slits. You took his silence as an agreement to what you said and brought the cuffs to your face.

It seemed like it didn't need a key to unlock. Instead, it had a switch similar to what bracelets have. You pressed on the poking metal and watched the cuff on his right hand unlock, falling loosely as you did the same with his left.

You carelessly threw the metal cuffs to the ground, not caring what would happen to it. Right when you were going to resume what you've been longing to do for a while, you felt two hands grip your wrists before tossing you onto the bed, switching positions of you and Rafayel.

"Ugh!" You grunted at the impact. Eyes locked in with Rafayel's, which went from an innocent, obedient look to a look that held something similar to that of an untamed dog. Unruly, and incapable of self-control.

Not wanting to back down from simply being pinned down, you smirked at Rafayel. Cocking your head upwards with a scoff, watching the Lemurian's eyes glow in a blue similar to the ocean. Before he could proceed with whatever he was planning on doing, you cut in.

"If you plan to get a strike and run away, it won't end well for you" You warned, making it clear that you weren't phased by him.

"It will start with the entire Empire distraught about what happened to their princess. Then every man and woman alike will go through every end of the world to find the messengers of their respective Empire or Kingdom that sent you to me. War will break out" You felt the grip on your wrists tighten, but you didn't bother to stop.

"And then they will aim for your people. No Lemurian in the sea will be left alive, they will skin your tails, gouge your pretty eyes, rip your scales off, and every bone of yours will be taken care of" Your eyes darkened as you watched Rafayel's face grow angrier.

"Every. Single. One"

You felt him release his grip on one of your hands, lifting up his own to create a ball of fire in an attempt to burn you right on the spot. Your provoking was so intense it had a man of the sea create fire. What a spectacle this man was.

Seeing as how you were in awe, he paused from throwing the fire at you. Waiting to see what else you would do. You happily gave him the expectation he needed.

You slowly sat up to not provoke him any further, before using the hand that was free to touch his right cheek. Thumb brushed over the mole as he stared at you with wide eyes, confused as to what you were doing now.

"Don't worry. Those things can't happen if I'm alive. I'm the princess of the most influential and powerful Empire there is here. Kings and Queens all over the world send me their sons so that they could be on good terms with us" You assured him, caressing his cheek as you would with a lover.

"As long as you're mine, no one will harm you"

Hearing you calmly whisper, Rafayel took a second before extinguishing the fire in his palm, then placing his hand to press against the bed sheets. The blue glow in his eye had also disappeared, which signalled you that he was now approachable.

"...We could even create a treaty between humans and Lemurians" You initiated, gently grabbing his hand and using it to trace it towards your stomach.

"Right...here..."

Pregnancy. You were insisting on having a child with a Lemurian man. You could see the utter shock on Rafayel's face. He looked at you as if you were crazy, but your people don't call you a tyrant for nothing. Because the look on your eyes showed that you had not a drop of humanity in you.

Without noticing it, Rafayel looked at you with pity.

"If I give you what I want, you will set me free" Your ears perked at the voice of the Lemurian man. How nice would his moans be if you had him inside you at this instant.

But he was a whole other species. A race with animalistic features. So you had to play it slow and steady. Luring in the snake before cutting off its fangs.

"Of course"

Now the one who was pushing their lips onto the other was Rafayel. You gladly let him take the initiative, since usually you would have to do all the work, so it would be nice to have a change of pace in things.

His style of kissing was similar to that of a lover. He didn't let his nervousness or hesitance show in his actions. Instead, he was determined, hungry even. Yet so gentle and experienced. Perhaps he's done it before with other women.

If that's the case, then it saves you the trouble of having to teach another man from scratch.

You guided his hand that was on your stomach lower to where your expensively embroidered pants were. Using his big, veiny hand to rub onto your lower region. Making him open his eyes and look down when he felt how warm and wet you were.

Without asking, he slipped his hand into your pants, feeling your pussy bare, covered completely in your juices making it easier for him to play with it.

You felt his fingers tease around your hole, rubbing up and down to gather your slick lubricant for his fingers before sticking them inside easily. Making you let out a moan that released you off your starvation to be touched, you removed your lips from his to give yourself better access to moan.

"A-Ah yes! Just like that" You gripped his wrist harder, guiding him to press all the right spots. Suddenly feeling the need to make a joke at the same time.

"Mmph! How lucky the other ladies are to have a piece of you before me, huh?" You let out a messy laugh, letting out another moan when you felt him press a particular spot harder.

"Stop talking" He warned, however seeing him frown at you made you want to coo at how innocent he looked, like a child that had his candy stolen from him.

"Then make me" You wrapped your hand around his neck and pressed his lips against yours for the third time.

You relish in the taste of his soft lips on yours, part of you wishes he would use those lips and work on your body instead of his hands, but you don't want to rush art in its process.

While you had your hole thrust in and out by Rafayel's fingers, you used your free hands to brush onto his body, feeling every bump of his perfectly sculpted abs on your fingers, if you weren't so preoccupied with his fingers inside, you would have smirked at how you could feel him lose composure from a simple touch.

Soon enough you felt like his fingers weren't enough for you. So you decided to take back the initiative and grab him by his arms, promptly pushing him onto the bed and crawling up to move your hips forward, your pants lowering down in the process.

Now his eyes were facing your soaking wet pussy, slightly throbbing from the loss of his slender fingers inside you. Rafayel stared at the leaking hole for a few seconds before averting his eyes to look up at you. To which you greeted his lost look with a large grin, nothing but pure arousal in your face.

"Go on"

You egged the Lemurian man on, he didn't seem to hesitate when his eyes went back to looking down at your pussy, and then he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, licking up the juices that were spilling out of you, neglecting your swollen clit so far.

A satisfied moan escapes your lips. The same lips that you had praised for being so soft and lewd were now suckling and licking up all your pussy had to offer, like he was cleaning up all the marks left by the other men you had slept with.

"Y-Yes...Good boy..." You bit your lower lip, running your fingers through his violet-coloured hair to guide his lips further to the perfect spots of your pussy. His nose slightly brushed against your clit.

It seemed that the tiny praise you gave to the Lemurian made him more excited than you thought because right when you praised him, you felt two large hands grope your asscheeks, pulling you forward to Rafayel's mouth, his lips latching onto your neglected clit at the same time.

You couldn't help but let out a noise of shock and pleasure, the sudden warmth and aggression in his tongue caught you off guard as all you could do was hold onto the headboard of the bed and have your legs twitch from every continuous lick he was giving to your pussy.

With the pace he had, it didn't take long before you felt yourself slowly inching closer to your orgasm. You couldn't even let out a noise to indicate that you were close because of how needy you were, it was like finally having a gulp of water after spending days in a desert.

"A-Argh- Fuck!" You groaned.

Like an instinct, you pushed his face closer to your pussy as if it weren't already close enough. Probably having his teeth touch your skin but you couldn't tell, you were too busy using Rafayel's face like how you would use a pillow at night.

You were so busy riding out your own release that you didn't even notice how the Lemurian man's eyes rolled back from the sudden pressure of his face being used for your own satisfaction, the arousing smell of your juices wouldn't go wasted as he would attempt to gulp down every single drop. Seriously, where did he learn to do all this?

Without care, you threw his head back onto the pillow before cupping his face and bombarding it with kisses, aiming from his cheek to his neck, planting kiss marks from your lipstick and leaving a few hickeys behind. Tarnishing his clean body with your bite marks.

"So gorgeous.." Another praise left your mouth.

Once you were proud of the work you left on his body, you pulled off your pants completely. Making sure Rafayel's eyes never left yours as you did so, throwing them away somewhere at the corner of the room before you pulled down the navy blue embroidered pants he had on as well, before turning your back on him and rubbing your wet cunt all over his rock hard cock.

"Little Lemuria's quite excited, huh?" You teased, watching his dazed expression never change. He was definitely out of it.

You made sure all the saliva and juices on your pussy coated his dick completely, you could tell he was getting impatient from how his leg would hold itself back from hiking up each time you rubbed your soft cunt onto his shaft, but you weren't looking forward in rushing such a valuable moment.

When you felt like you got his cock wet enough, you held his dick with your palm, feeling your own cum slipping through your fingers as you slowly pushed it inside of you, letting out a large sigh of relief when you finally got to feel something large and veiny as his cock.

Without wasting another second you moved your hips back and forth, letting his cock hit you from every spot you had inside, and also giving him a good view of your ass as you continued to tease him with the way you rocked your hips.

Right when you made him believe you were just going to rock on his dick, you lifted your hips up and slammed yourself down, earning a loud moan from both you and him. The sudden action shocked Rafayel to the point his hands reached up to grab your waist while you continued to ram his dick deep inside you.

"Mmph! Yes! Right there!"

The pace you created from simply hopping up and down his dick became too intense that Rafayel couldn't keep up anymore. His eyes would fail to gain focus once you brought him closer to his release through the teasing you did earlier. Not hiding the moans that followed the closer you got to your orgasm.

"U-Ugh! A-Almost!"

You clenched your pussy while letting out a loud moan, the impact he had on your hole was far stronger than your impact on his dick since you clearly cared about reaching your own orgasm first. To which you did a few seconds before Rafayel could cum as well.

While you were trying to keep yourself up after completely raw dogging yourself onto his cock, you let out a gasp when you felt your body being pushed forward, your arms being held behind your back as you felt a harsh thrust snap to hips and a deep press inside your cervix.

A loud guttural moan left your mouth as you were forced into a position where the Lemurian man had his way with you, you couldn't see his face, but you could tell by the way he was holding back his growls that he was chasing after the orgasm you denied him from achieving.

You wanted to tell him to slow down, but you couldn't as all your energy was lost from the first two orgasms you had, all you could do was moan desperately while you continued to feel Rafayel's cock gushing in and out of your hole that twitched uncontrollably.

Thanks to you being sensitive, the clamps your pussy made on Rafayel's dick made him reach his high quicker than anticipated. He gives his few final thrusts by pushing your hips so far that your stomach and face are now pressing onto the sheets, you are about to reach your third orgasm.

You hear Rafayel moan in relief as he completely filled your hole up with his cum. Feeling the warm substance gush out of your hole and run down your legs as you came on his dick once more. Eyes roll to the back of your head, leading to nothing but pitch blackness on your sight.

When you two were finally satisfied, all you could hear was the heavy breathing that came out from both your mouths. You couldn't move your body anymore, all you could do was lie on the bed with your ass facing Rafayel, you might as well sleep at that moment.

And sleep you did.

The last thing you felt was the warm embrace of the Lemurian man, you didn't expect him to be so gentlemanly, taking care of you while you were unconscious. He would make it harder for you to let him go.

But to your surprise, he was already gone the moment you woke up.

At first, you were frantic. Threatening to kill everyone in the palace if they didn't tell you his whereabouts, but it seemed that the little fish was quite sneaky, as everyone reported to have never seen him.

Eventually, you gave up. The only one time you finally found something interesting and exhilarating in your mundane life sat right at your palm, and you let it get away.

Moving on was easy, but your body no longer wanted to feel the touch of another man. Every day the maids and messengers would present you with a line of gorgeous men, but you barely even spared a glance, the only thing imprinted in your brain was that god darned Lemurian.

A week would have already passed since then. And you would find yourself laying on the same bed he was on with you, bored out of your mind.

"Stupid Lemurian. Bewitching me" You cursed, tossing a grape at the wall, watching it bounce off and fall onto the floor.

You were bent on revenge. If you ever see him again, you are going to turn him into your slave, that is for sure.

"I hope I won't be turned into seafood if I let your highness come with me"

Immediately, you sat up in shock. Not noticing you had almost crushed the grape in your hand when you heard a familiar voice. Your head snapped to look at your bedroom window, and there stood a familiar man with violent-coloured hair and purple-hued eyes.

"You..." You muttered. Eyes frantically observing his new look. He had a gorgeous attire of blues, and his skin was covered in these symbolic marks.

You watched him have a serious look on his face, arms crossed as he eyed the grape you had in your hand. Curious about what you were so determined to throw at your walls.

"That's wasting food, princess" Compared to the man he was before, he sounded more cocky and mighty. Almost like a king.

You tried to find the words to retort at him. But all you could do was gaze at him in awe, the beauty he held must have increased tenfold from this past week, so this was what he would truly look like in Lemuria.

Snapping yourself out of the daze you were in, you stood up and ran towards him, finger-pointing at his chest as you furrowed your eyebrows and faced him.

"You bewitched me! And to add on, you had the gall to leave me after bedding me! You sly fish!" You yelled, finger poking a hole into his chest as he let out a chuckle.

"Oh! Funny is it?" You spat, watching his eyes trace itself to grab your arm that was poking him, you still had the grape in your hand.

Rafayel slowly kissed your arm, then brought his face to your hand. Where he took the grape in his lips and ate it whole, chewing the fruit inside his mouth and gulping it in front of you, then planting a kiss onto your hand.

The entire gesture left you speechless. Now you were definitely convinced that this man was trying to bewitch you. Your mind circled in thoughts on how dare he touch you so casually that you didn't notice how red your face was.

"Come with me, princess" He offered, eyes staring into yours.

"..." You didn't question him. Because you knew fully well that you would do wonders to leave the place. But you knew you couldn't, especially when you've done so countless of times.

"I can't. They'll find me and kill you. It's not worth the risk" You reasoned, eyes darkening with disappointment in your own words.

"I'd like to see them try and kill the God of Tides" He laughed at your words, to which you frowned in confusion.

"What does the God of Tides have anything to do with you?" Not realizing how stupid your question sounded, you watched as Rafayel looked at you with an arched eyebrow and a tiny smirk.

"...No way" Your eyes widened before moving your head up and down to take a good look at his attire once more.

Rafayel wasn't just some Lemurian lost on land. He was a Sea God.

"Goodness," You blurted out, watching Rafayel laugh at your reaction, to which you responded by blushing in embarrassment.

"Does this change things for us now?" He asked in between his laughs, to which you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I suppose"

You felt his arm wrap around your waist, bringing you close to him as you gasped, surprised by his bold gesture. When you looked up at him he had a fulfilling smile on his face.

Next thing you knew waves of water surrounded the two of you, maybe this time you could truly escape this boring place for good.

"Hey, Rafayel. Why did you come back for me?"

"Well, a lonely princess asked me to let her conceive my child. The kinder option would be to show her where I grew up, wouldn't it?"

"...Yeah..."

-

"Did you hear? The princess has escaped the palace once more"

"That's nothing new, is it?"

"Oh, but it is. I heard this time she escaped with a lover!"

"A lover?! That tyrant?!"

"Whoever that gentleman is, he must be crazy to elope with her"

"You said it"

-----

A/N: so like... clearly a lot of themes were running through my mind. maybe this isn't concubine! rafayel as promised BUT THE THEME IS THERE SO EAT YOUR FOOD LIKE THE GOOD CHILDREN YOU ARE (picky eaters are not welcomed, says the picky eater herself)

anyways incubus! rafayel is next, probably in a week or two who knows. after this, I will work on some zayne or xavier oneshots as well :)

OH AND CAN I SAY I WANNA OPEN COMMISSIONS SO BAD???? like maybe not for my art, but definitely for my writing. only when i hit 1k followers will I do that though so stay tuned!

here are the outfits mentioned in the oneshot for better imagination 💪✨️

[teamatsumu]

purple and pink. (rafayel x reader)

summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).

word count: 3450

warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp

You weren’t exactly an artistic person.

You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.

Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.

What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.

Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.

After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.

You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.

Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.

As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.

“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.

“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.

“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.

You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.

“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.

The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.

Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.

He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.

“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.

Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.

Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.

Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.

“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.

He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.

“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.

His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.

“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.

“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.

“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.

“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”

The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.

His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.

And oh, did you receive it.

Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.

“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.

(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)

“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.

“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”

He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.

His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.

He was a vision.

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.

“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.

You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.

Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.

“Stop me if you can’t take it.”

You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.

Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.

You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.

You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.

Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.

Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.

“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.

“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.

You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.

“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”

Aaaaaand the urge was gone.

You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Not more than you.”

He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.

[h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3]

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔟𝔬𝔴

𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

summary [henry let's you play with bows and you get carried away]

warnings [smut, mouth stuff🎀, bimbo~ish ig, no p in v, pet names, soft dom henry🎀]

being the type of girl you were you loved ribbons and bows. they weren't something you indulged in often as a child, growing up in the country and all, but once you got older you feel in love with them.

you'd put them everywhere, in your hair, on your clothes, there's even some on your walls and others tied around stuffed bears.

Henry had recently gotten you these really cute ribbon bow clips and you were currently sitting beside him putting them in his hair. he's not really paying attention to you, he's used to this kind of treatment and just sat scrolling on his phone. you dropped one of the clips from his hair and in to his lap. as you go to reach for it a thought flashes in your mind. 'can I put a bow on your dick?' you ask your boyfriend after retrieving the clip.

you see the way henry freezes and hurriedly say 'not these, like ribbon' you clear up. he lets out a breath and laugh before looking at you 'I was scared for a sec baby' he says tucking a peice of hair behind your ear making you smile. he returns your smile and leans in for a kiss. 'of course I'll let my pretty girl dress me up' henry says sitting back up with the clips still in his hair.

so excited you jump up and let out a squeal 'omg yay' you scream about to go into you and Henry's shared room for some ribbon. turning to him before you go saying 'don't get hard' which earns you an eye roll as you leave 'you wanna do it or not' he mumbles as your walking but you hear.

in the room your trying to figure out what color ribbon you wanted. you got it down to pink and purple, so you bring them out to henry. 'which one do you want?' you question, you sit beside him on the couch, getting comfortable with your upper half mostly on his lap. 'whatever matches my hair' he says as he scrolls through something.

you go with the pink since he had pink in his hair. unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out your really happy to see the he wasn't hard. it might sound odd but you liked playing with his soft cock. cutting the ribbon to length before throwing everything on to the floor. you start to tie the ribbon at the base of his dick, humming to yourself as henry continued on his phone, you could care less.

looking down at the pretty pink bow you made your so proud in your self. you let out a giggle in excitement and notice the way Henry's cock twitched when you laughed. your mouth begin to water. trying something else you lightly blow making it twitch again.

you mouth became the ocean and you desperatly needed to taste him. opening your mouth and letting droll drip onto the head of his cock before lowering your head and licking it up. 'ohh fuck baby' henry moans out at the unexpected pleasure, finally placing his attention on you.

you take the tip of this cock in your mouth savering the taste of him. opening your mouth wider you take his full soft length in. feeling the bow brush against your lips. feeling him swell you come up for air letting out a little whine at the fact that this is the first time he's ever fully fit in your mouth, and it's because hes never let you suck it soft. and it's not gonna last much longer, but you'll enjoy having him in your mouth either way.

looking up to meet his gaze he grips your jaw and squeezes your cheecks together. sticking out your tounge he roughly brings you up for a sloppy kiss, gripping the back of your scalp. he breaks the kiss to leave kisses all over your face before letting you go back down to his cock, which is now fully hard.

bow intact.

you lick from the base to the tip repetadly. bringing your focus more to the head of his cock you bring one hand to the base and the other to his balls. 'fuck baby you know daddy likes that' he moans out as his hips buck forcing the tip of his cock all the way into your mouth. you gag a little before you adjust to it returning to your pace.

henry looks down to the ungodly display infornt of him. you desperatly sucking his cock, pretty hands playing with his balls with a pretty pink ribbon rapped around his cock, your eyes are watery, the floor beneath you full of droll and pre cum. your looking up to him eyes glossed over moaning every so often telling him just how much you love his cock.

'ahh- fuckk, baby im gonna cum' he moaned out. forcing the rest of his cock into your moth and down your throat henry couldn't hold back any longer. his cum being forced down your throat and falling from the sides of your mouth around his cock getting your bow all dirty. removing him from your mouth with a giggle and a smile so happy that you grew into loving bows.

[a/n: this randomly came to me and I wrote it right away so if it's bad blame it on that. 🎀]

[ashleysturn]

changing room - matt sturniolo

context: you go shopping for a new swimsuit with your best friend matt

nsfw.

<———————————————➰———————————————>

i have a huge crush on my best friend matt. he’s taking me to the mall today because he’s been out of town filming all week with his brothers. i know this isn’t a date but i wish it was. i don’t want things to be weird between us.

-

i hear matt’s car pull into my driveway. i scurry to put on some lipgloss and spray my favorite perfume. i grab my purse and walk downstairs.

i hear a knock at the door

“come in!”

my front door opens “hey y/n!”

“hey matt!” i run up to matt and hug him, i’ve missed him.

“you ready? i left the car running”

“oh yeah sorry!” i slip my shoes on and walk out to the porch. i lock the door behind me.

<———————————————➰———————————————>

“so how was the trip?” i ask matt as we approach the mall

“pretty good, glad to be home though. nicks gotta edit all weekend”

“yeah i bet” i smile at him. god i’ve missed seeing his pretty face.

“so which store you wanna go to first?”

i look around the map of the mall. i haven’t been here in forever.

“i need a new swimsuit” i point to a summer shop on the map

matt takes a deep breath “okay.” he follows behind me into the store

i start looking around at the different options. i grab a few to try on and set them in my basket.

“i’m going to try these on” i smile and hold up the few swimsuits that i had picked out.

he nods his head “alright. i’ll just wait here.” he leans against the wall outside of the changing room.

i go into one of the little rooms and set down my basket on the bench. why do they make these rooms so small?

i try on the first bikini- it’s baby pink. the bottoms are high waisted and has that scrunch that defines your butt. the top has thin straps and is almost too thin of a fabric.

i open the door to the changing room “i’m not sure about this one.” i step out to show matt

he turns around and his eyes widen as he looks me up and down.

“what do you think?” i do a little 360 to show him the back

“i- uh it’s cute” his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows

“not the one though.” i shrug, heading back into the changing room.

the next bikini is periwinkle with a floral pattern of other shades of purple and blue. the bottoms fit me perfectly, hugging my curves. the top is strapless with some frill.

“i like this one!” i say through the door as i check myself out in the mirror

“can i see?” matt says. i step out of the room

“woah”

“woah?” i repeat back, smiling

“you like it matt?” i do another 360 to show the back.

“yeah i do” he scratches the back of his neck

am i making him flustered?

“i’m going to try on the last one” i step back into the changing room.

the last swimsuit i grabbed wasn’t a bikini, it was a one piece but i figured i’d give it a try because it looked great on the mannequin. it was one of those swimsuits that had the cutouts on the sides to emphasize your curves. the back was open aswell.

i slide on the swimsuit but the straps get tangled in the back

“hey matt? can you help me untangle this?”

“are you dressed?” he asks

“yeah the straps are just tangled” i unlock the door and he steps in

he closes the door behind him and steps towards me. i’m standing facing away from him in front of the mirror.

obviously flustered, matt asks “uh what am i supposed to do again?”

i laugh “the straps.” i pull my hair over my shoulders revealing the back of the swimsuit and the twisted up straps.

matt runs his fingers over the hem of the swimsuit and starts untangling the straps

the gentle touch of his fingers brushing against my back and neck sends goosebumps raising all over my body.

“there” matt says stepping back

“thanks. what do you think?” i say, turning to face him

matt looks me up and down. he reaches out his hand to trace my curves

“i like the cut out” he says quietly.

“let me see the back again” he suggests

i turn around and he takes in the view.

“damn y/n” he shakes his head

“we’ve got a winner?” i laugh

“mhm” he nods. “i’ll buy it for you”

“oh really?”

he nods. “yeah of course”

“thank you!” i turn around and hug him. he wraps his arms around my waist

“you’ve gotta take it off for me to pay for it though” he whispers into my ear, tightening his grip on my waist.

his voice sends shivers down my spine. “can you help?” i tease

“oh of course” he laughs, turning me back around to face away from him

he runs his fingers over my shoulders and pulls the straps down my arms.

i pull the swimsuit the rest of the way down and discard it on the floor

matt comes up behind me and runs his hands up my exposed body. i reach back and tug at the waistband of his sweatpants. he promptly pulls both his pants and boxers down

he pushes on my back and i bend over, using the bench to hold myself up. he runs his hands down my back and grips onto my hips

“you don’t know what you do to me y/n” matt groans

i arch my back and he steps forward, lining himself up with me before pushing himself into me in one thrust, not giving me any time to stretch around him

“fuck matt!” i yell out from the mixture of pain and pleasure.

matt pumps in and out of me, the sound of our skin slapping together fills the cramped room.

he has one hand gripped onto my hip, the other intertwined in my hair.

“oh fuck y/n, mmmh” matt whimpers.

my stomach ties up in a knot and my walls pulsate around his dick. “fuck matt-“ i moan.

matt pumps inside me a few more times, letting me ride out my orgasm. he then pulls out and paints my. back with white, letting out low moans.

he lets his grip on my waist and hair go, his hair sticks to his forehead as he pants, catching his breath.

“let me clean you up pretty girl” he wipes off my back and gathers up our clothes. he gets dressed and steps out of the changing room, allowing me to gather myself.

<———————————————➰———————————————>

i step out of the room, now dressed, carrying the black swimsuit.

“ready to check out?” matt reaches for his wallet.

“yeah” i laugh

“i’ll have to take you shopping more often.” he winks, leading me to the checkout counter.

<———————————————➰———————————————>

quick-ish one today, i lovedddd writing this. hope yall like it 🫡

send reqs 😚

[luveline]

i just discovered bombshell reader but omfg she got hit in the face with a sledgehammer??? how does the healing process go for her? especially since she’s very focused on her looks. how would she cope?

thank you for requesting <3 fem

Your new scars are… an adjustment. 

The worst one is where the hammer hit you. Where your jaw shattered, and the impact of the hammerhead split your skin. You don’t remember the pain, just the nausea, and the blackness as your consciousness slipped away, and now you have a permanent reminder stretched from the corner of your mouth to your jaw. 

You turn your chin up in the mirror, looking. When you smile the scar puckers, rigid and starkly purple against your skin.  

You can hear Spencer in your kitchen. He’s singing. You haven’t heard him sing many times, despite all your days and nights spent together. Your smile is out of your hands, you don’t really think about it, and so for the first time in weeks you see your own happiness in the mirror. 

You didn’t have your jaw wired for as long as most people, just three weeks. At first you’d decided against it, and then you’d realised it wasn’t really an option. That entire time, Spencer stood by your side like he’d been glued there supporting every decision with vigour. And considering he hadn’t been your boyfriend for very long —your best friend, arguably, but not officially your partner— he’s done more than you ever expected of him. He’s been perfect. 

He continues to be everything you need. “Hey, Y/N! Are you eating breakfast today or not?” 

You give yourself a last look in the mirror, cringe at your scars, and check your newly repaired teeth. They look fine, Spencer swears that he can’t tell the difference. 

You can. 

You leave your room for the kitchen. There are twin plates of breakfast waiting and steaming hot on the kitchen table, with a glass of juice and a second of water waiting beside them. Spencer’s coffee sits half empty beside the cutlery. 

“I love breakfast. What are we having, Spencer Reid, egg and sausage muffins again?” 

He appears from your little pantry with a big smile. “No, it’s bacon and egg. But I can make something else.”

“That’s perfect, it’s perfect.” 

Spencer puts a package of rice crackers down on the table. “Let me get the hazelnut spread. Sit down.” 

“It’s fine, we can have them after. You need to eat before it goes cold, Spence.” You open your hand for him. “Please?”

Spencer takes your hand, but only for you to sit. He stays standing at your legs, looking down at you, all brown curls and eyes as his hand runs up your arm to your shoulder, where it stays. 

The other follows a similar path, but then he holds your face, and you feel your breath catch. 

Forward, for Spencer. 

Suddenly, he’s the confident one. 

“You were in there for a long time,” he says. 

“Just making sure I look alright.” 

“You do. You look more than alright.” His thumb presses into your cheek, forcing a hollow. 

You lean into it. 

“You’re beautiful. Nothing can change that.” 

You need the comfort, and you know you’ve had enough. He keeps telling you how pretty you are, and you are, but he must be getting sick of it. 

…But no. He’s not getting tired of it. 

“Love you,” you whisper. 

He’s only had a couple of those from you. Many more since your injury, not because you didn’t love him, but because it can be synonymous with so many things, like please, and thank you, and please stay. Lately, you’ve had to ask him for more than you’ve ever asked before. 

“I love you, too,” he says, with that pout that tells you his cheeks will be pink before he’s so much as sat down. 

He rubs your cheek. Over and over, little circles as your eyes close. You’re tired again. His hands smell like toast and butter. 

“It’s really not as bad as you think it is. Nobody at work will think anything less of you.” 

“Of course they will. I used to be perfect.” 

“Hey. That’s not fair, to you or anyone. A scar doesn’t have the power to– to make you less perfect,” —you peel your eyes open at his intensity— “you couldn’t be any less pretty. It’s not possible.” 

“I know it’s ugly, Spencer.” 

“You keep saying that, but it’s not.” He raises his second hand to your cheek, the one with the scar, careful though it stopped feeling tender to the touch weeks ago. The pad of his thumb follows the line. 

You raise your chin, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “Sorry,” you say against his lips. 

He smiles in turn. “It’s okay. I can keep telling you.” 

“Can you tell me again?” 

Spencer kisses you again. His way of kissing has been toned down now, and sometimes you miss feeling like he was gonna press you against a wall, but it was necessary. Even now you feel a phantom twinge as his nose smushes yours. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, pulling back now, just one hand at your neck. “You are. You’re so pretty it gives me palpitations.” 

“That can’t be good.” 

“I think it’s really bad.” He laughs like an idiot. “I just don’t care. I’ve had you-provoked tachycardia for years. Nothing’s gonna change that now.” 

—

bombshell au

[melon-fodder]

-> KINKTOBER MASTERLIST <-

♡ WARNINGS: NON-CON! mind control, forced orgasms, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, aphrodisiac quirk

♡ WORD COUNT: 1.6k

♡ NOTE: y’all, for real, this is straight up non-con. There is nothing “dubious” about this. It’s dark and dirty.

As soon as the cloud of pink hits him, Shinsou knows that something is wrong. It tickles his nose, coats his throat, makes his mouth taste like too-sweet candy. He coughs, but it only makes the pressure in his head grow. Vision blurring, blood burning, Shinsou can only watch as the small-time villain turns and runs away. The condescending laugh that rings out behind her is almost as dense as the pollen settling over his uniform.

Dropping to his knees, Shinsou clutches his stomach, groans as arousal threatens to boil his insides. Fucking aphrodisiac quirks. He’s been warned about them, but he’s never experienced one.

Within seconds, he’s rock hard, leaking into his pants, pre dripping out of his dick with every god damn beat of his heart. He has to cum. Immediately.

There’s an alleyway a few yards away, dark and secluded and out of plain view. He can make it that far. He can–

“Hey, are you okay?”

The voice of a goddess–a siren singing the most seductive song. Shinsou looks up to find the source to be you, a civilian, frowning down at him in concern. His senses were already heightened from adrenaline, but something about the quirk is overloading them. He can see every color in your worried eyes, hear every one of your breaths, smell your perfume and shampoo, sweat and…

“Can you hear me?”

Shinsou nods, tells you in a strained voice, “I’ll be… fine,” then without making the conscious decision, activates his own quirk. Your pretty face goes slack, gaze blank, and just like that, Shinsou has himself a little puppet.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He really hadn’t meant to do it. But he’s not thinking straight. He can’t think straight. Not when the fabric of his hero suit feels like it’s rubbing his dick raw. “Help me to the alley,” he commands, and you obey without a word.

That’s all. He’s just going to get to a hidden place, release his quirk, apologize and thank you for your assistance. It’s the dead of night, anyway. You should be getting home and out of harm’s way. You definitely shouldn’t be in this dirty fucking alley, least of all with Shinsou while he’s in this state.

Because even as his back hits the wall, all he can do is stare at you. Stare at you and pant, lick his lips while imagining what yours would feel like around his cock.

It’s disgusting. You’re a stranger. A civilian. Absolutely helpless. And Shinsou is a pro-hero with so much fucking power over you. He could make you do anything–could make you kneel, lick his boots, walk right into traffic, strip off every single piece of clothing.

“Stay still,” he tells you, and you do.

You know you’re in danger. Fear tickles the edge of your mind, but it dissipates before fully forming into anything useful. It’s like a whispered voice telling you to run, but even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able. You can’t do anything unless he tells you to.

You’ve seen him before, the hero patrolling the streets in the middle of the night. He wears all black except for the scarf haphazardly looped around his neck. Purple hair hangs down around his face in thick tresses, unkempt and rugged. If you were actually cognizant, you would think he was hot, but currently all you feel when you look at him is a strange, contradictory mixture of calm and unease.

You’re still, just as he told you to be, but not stiff. Your body moves according to his touch, shoulders shrugging when he pushes your coat off. You feel the cool air against your skin, should shiver but can’t as if something has shut off your higher-level thinking as well as your base instincts. All you can do is breathe and feel.

“Against the wall,” he says.

Your feet are heavy as you take the few steps toward the bricks, facing them with your back to him. He doesn’t tell you to turn around, so you can’t see him when he undoes his utility pants, just hear the rustle of fabric and the low groan that leaves his throat.

“M’sorry about this,” he huffs, “I really am. I’ll try not to hurt you.”

Your heart is pounding too fast in your chest, but you’re only vaguely aware of it, just like you’re only vaguely aware of what’s about to happen to you.

“Pull your pants down.”

You do, hands moving without your permission as you pop the button on your jeans and push them down to your thighs.

“Panties, too.”

It’s cold, and you’re very exposed, but your head feels so empty. Or maybe it’s too full. Stuffed with tangled string or rough wool while something that resembles actual human intellect tries to wiggle out of the depths.

You don’t know. You don’t know anything except there are fingers probing your entrance–clumsy and desperate, and the man behind you swears when he realizes you aren’t prepared in any sense of the word.

“Can’t just shove in dry,” Shinsou mumbles, taking a shaky breath before stealing yours when he orders, “cum.”

Your eyes don’t roll. You don’t moan or cry or buckle at the knees. But you do feel the heat form and explode in your gut all at the same time, feel your pussy spasm and clench and coat your insides with slick arousal just in time for the hero to stuff your hole with his cock.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.”

His forehead is clammy against your shoulder, fingers gripping your hips as he impales you over and over. It’s fast, and rough as your body stretches around his unfamiliar length. He’s huge and hot inside of you, fat mushroom head dragging against gummy walls.

Shinsou loses it as he buries himself inside of you, hips snapping back and forth with no real rhythm. He just wants to cum, needs to, and he’s already so close. You feel so fucking good around him, pussy fluttering helplessly as he shoves you harder and harder against the grimy building.

He doesn’t bother pulling out, just groans deep in his throat when he shoots his load inside of you. It feels good, relief flooding his system for about three seconds before his cock starts twitching with need again.

“God dammit. God dammit.”

He thrusts in harder, panting an apology when he fists a hand in your hair and shoves your face into the wall. It’s absentminded and disingenuous. Truly, Shinsou doesn’t care about anything now, only focused on getting rid of the pressure in his balls. He wanted to be nice and gentle, but he feels like he might be going crazy.

The scent of your arousal hits his nose, and Shinsou lowers his face to your shoulder, licks up your neck and leaves a trail of spit on your skin. His eyes are rolling in his head, sweat is dripping down his back, and something is leaking out of his cock– a steady stream of semen dribbling out of his tip to keep from fucking aspirating it.

“Cum,” he commands, not thinking when he says it again and again.

You convulse in his grip, cunt clamping down on him as you’re hit with multiple orgasms back to back. He should feel bad, but he can’t–not when you’re milking his cock, not when he’s filling your pussy with more of his spend, so much that it starts flowing down your thighs.

“Fuck, sorry–feel so good, though.”

Shinsou keeps moving, keeps fucking you even as you go limp against him. His teeth find purchase on your throat, and he whines like a dog as he drools all over you while rutting into your abused pussy. One hand grips your hip while his other arm is across your body, securing you against him as he squeezes one of your tits.

He still isn’t done. Even after he fucks a third… a fourth… a fifth load of cum into you, it isn’t over. Shinsou doesn’t think he’ll ever come back from this. Maybe this is who he is now–a villain, taking girls off the street and assaulting them in alleyways.

Because that’s exactly what he’s doing. You didn’t give him permission to do this. You didn’t willingly let him put his hands on you. No, there’s a word for what he’s doing right now, one he never thought would apply to him, but he’s too lost right now for it to sink in. He may have taken away your ability to think, but Shinsou is definitely the one who’s lost his mind.

“Cum again,” he growls,” and when you don’t he realizes you’re unconscious.

A rough hand grips your chin, jostles your head until you wake up. There is a split second of clarity, seeing the dark brick in front of you, feeling the cold air against you, the way your sore body is being stretched and handled.

“Wha–oh my go–”

“Ah, ah… shh…”

Just like that, he’s in control again, and you’re a little doll for him to play with as he pleases. You feel achy and full and messy. Viscous fluid leaks out of you, slithering down your legs and staining your pants.

You don’t know how long this will last, don’t know how many times he’ll empty himself inside of you, how many more times he’ll force you to cum. You just hope that once it’s all over, he’ll give you one last command:

Forget.

[annievrse]

fresh out the slammer

sukuna x reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic c/w: singular mention of sa w/c: 1.1k a/n: all characters mentioned are 22, shoko is your best friend.

"you're not meant to be here."

the man who stands at your doorstep scoffs. your 6 foot 3, pink-haired ex takes up the entirety of the doorway, and you have to force down the urge to jump him.

you tilt your head when he doesn't answer. "ryomen, you need to leave. right now."

a single eyebrows arches. "i know damn well you ain't talkin’ to me like that."

rolling your eyes, you know he won’t do anything you say. so, opening your front door wider, sukuna steps inside, his left hand scratching the back of his neck.

“see, being nice isn’t that hard,” he teases, glancing at you over his shoulder. sighing, you close the door, eyeing him wearily as he lingers in the hallway.

“new key hook?” sukuna smiles, pointing at the wall.

you shake your head in disbelief. “why’re you here?”

sukuna raises his eyebrows, spinning to face you. but you realise your mistake too late.

with the door at your back and nowhere to go, you’re cornered by your ex-boyfriend. yet, he seems to know exactly what he’s doing, with his tongue poking his cheek as he approaches.

“where were you on sunday?”

your breath hitches in your throat when he runs a finger along your collarbone, but you won’t let him get you that easy.

“nowhere,” you insist, staring him down. he always said you were brave for doing that — you were the only one to ever do so.

“funny,” the corner of his mouth turns upward. “i heard something different.”

you give him no reaction. besides, what’s it to him?

“ok, and?”

“ooo,” he laughs deeply, his head tilting. “so it’s true.”

“ryomen—“

“come on baby, you know that’s not my name to you.”

“ryomen,” you press, putting your hand on his chest to keep him at a distance. “you need to leave.”

the faux pout he gives you makes you want to slap him, but you can’t bring yourself to do something so heinous to him.

“fine,” you concede. “yeah, i went on a hinge date, so what?”

“so what?” sukuna mutters bitterly. “it’s not ‘so what’ when he tries to force himself on you, baby.”

your face heats at the mention of it. “sukuna—“

“and you didn’t think to tell me?” he presses his hand on the door behind you, his body dangerously close to yours.

“i was scared,” you whisper, gaze on his chest to avoid his eyes. you notice his body visibly relax, his head hanging closer to yours to hear. “i knew you would do something about it, and i didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“you don’t need to worry about me,” sukuna asserts, his finger under your chin to lift your face towards his. “it’s already been taken care of, and i’m still here.”

your eyes widen slightly, head moving to look at his right hand on the door. spread on the brown wood is his hand, larger as always, the pale skin on his knuckles red and purple and bloody and you’re shocked you didn’t see it before.

reaching up, you grab sukuna’s hand to cradle it in your own. “you’re joking.”

“you’re not a joke to me, sweetheart.”

sighing, you side step him, holding his injured hand in your own. he follows mindlessly behind you, checking out his left hand that is just as bloody as the other.

entering the bathroom, you don’t need to tell him where to sit before you dig the first aid kit out of the cupboard beneath the sink. you hadn’t had to use it in a while.

“kuna,” you murmur, observing his hands. he doesn’t reply. instead, he watches you, like he always does.

faces level, you set everything onto the counter. standing between his thighs makes your body feel numb. and when one of his hands covers your hip, you focus on the other.

sukuna doesn’t flinch when you clean his knuckles with alcohol, and doesn’t object when you smooth frozen band-aids over the particularly bad cuts.

“thanks, baby,” sukuna says, not checking to see if you cleaned them correctly—you always do.

“don’t mention it,” you dismiss flippantly, putting the red soaked cloth in the sink and the aid pack back in the cupboard.

the silence is comfortable but charged with something you don’t want to acknowledge. the muted chatter from the tv in the living room penetrates the bathroom wall, and you come back to your senses.

“does shoko know?”

“she told me.”

you sigh, if she couldn’t get her hands on your hinge date, she’d tell someone who could—and he did.

“he had a bruise where you punched him,” sukuna quips. “but i may have made it worse.”

you twist your lips sheepishly. “yeah, well, i wasn’t letting him get away that easy.”

“that’s my girl.”

the comment makes your stomach flutter pathetically.

“you wanna stay over?” you blurt, face warm.

sukuna knows better than to tease you right now, so he nods, and stands from the closed toilet seat.

you swiftly leave the bathroom, pacing down the hallway to curl up on the couch. sukuna walks in idly, taking in the space he’s spent so much time in. one thing catches his eye, and then he’s poking fun at you.

“nice picture.”

your eyes dart to where he’s looking on the bookshelf, and god forbid, it’s a photo of the two of you at tokyo tower. but, you’re not embarrassed.

“yeah, i look hot.”

sukuna chuckles, sitting next to you and propping his feet up on the coffee table. “you look hot all the time, shut up.”

drawing in a breath, you can’t contain yourself anymore. you circle your arm around his neck, fingers threading through his pink locks. sukuna turns his head toward you, lips inches apart.

“feet off the table.”

“don’t tell me what to do.”

you snicker, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“fresh out the slammer,” you joke. “and you come here.”

“of course,” sukuna looks confused. “where else would i go?”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stop your emotions from showing.

“i don’t know,” you glance down at when his fingers play with the drawstring of your sweatpants. “a new girl?”

“please,” sukuna scoffs. “like anyone else would put up with my shit.”

you give him a deadpan look.

sukuna rolls his eyes. “you’re my pretty baby, i’ll always come home to you or whatever,” he says lazily.

you run your thumb over his cheekbone. "kuna.”

he raises his eyebrows in question, but he knows what you’re asking.

“i need something from you," you mumble, tracing his lips with your eyes.

"oh yeah?" he smirks, voice low. "and what's that?"

you shrug, licking your lips. “nothing.”

sukuna rolls his eyes and lifts your hips up and over him, your knees bracketing his thighs. you squeal softly, forgetting just how strong he is.

sukuna shifts his hips underneath you. “you’re so—”

“kiss me.”

you don’t have to tell him twice.

[suguann]

He’ll never admit the amount of time he’s spent picturing you like this: boneless under him, whimpering and shivering from cumming on his tongue, and your chest heaving against his twitching cock. You look so small like this—smaller than usual because everything about him is big in comparison—and that stirs something foreign in his gut that he can’t name.

(Something he’ll think about later.)

Instead, he smooths the wide pad of his thumbs over your nipples, savoring the little sigh you let out before it melts into a cry when he catches them between his fingers until the skin tightens into stiff peaks.

“Ah! Toru—please.”

A smirk splits across his face, and he curls over you, the weight of his body pressing you further into the mattress. “So eager for me to fuck these cute tits, huh? Put your hands here first, baby.”

He guides your hands to the side of the plush swells of your breasts, urging them together lightly until he feels the softness of them enveloping his cock. You’re so fucking pretty with your head tilted to the side, shyly meeting his gaze before you lick at the weeping slit. 

Gojo’s throat constricts around the noise bubbling on the back of his tongue, hips twitching when he feels you moan against him. “Yes—that’s a good girl. Get it wet for me,” he groans.

You bite your lip, but you don’t protest and drop a dribble of spit onto the purpling head— some of it sticking to your bottom lip.

“Is that good?” you ask, long lashes fluttering atop your cheeks, blinking up at him innocently.

His stomach clenches.

Adorable.

“Yeah, baby,” he rumbles, voice rough, steadily pushing his hard cock against your chest. “So good.”

Gojo watches your fingers dig into your breasts when he slips between your lips on the next thrust, and he selfishly presses in a little deeper just to feel you convulse around him. Halfway between open and closed, your eyes look absolutely dazed—a little glassy—so perfect, always good for him when he needs you to be.

His voice catches in the back of his throat, fingers tugging on your nipple. “Fuck—Breathe.”

Your mouth is hot—not as hot as the sweet little eden between your legs, but close—and he groans, lowly, when he feels you relax, letting him slip into your throat. But before you can get used to the stretch of him, he slips his cock out only to smear your saliva along your exposed tits.

It’s sloppy. Spit coats your chin, and his pre-cum adds to the mess on your skin as you exhale drunkenly, tilting your head to try and catch the pearly drop dripping from his tip on your pink tongue. 

He chokes on another groan, swallowing tightly, letting the slick, sticky heat of your mouth engulf him again. “My cute little cock slut. You keep doing that, and I’m gonna cum down your throat. Is that what you want?”

All you can do is mewl, and that’s enough for him.

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