#Or let it get rolled up in your bedding for a while

[enhani-ki]

duck and his duck plushie - reader x ni-ki

warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, etc.

few days ago, ni-ki brought home a big duck plushie, and he knew you liked it the way your face lit up the moment he handed it to you.

you immediately smothered it with kisses, you were hugging it like it was the best thing ever so ni-ki felt proud of himself, happy cause he knew he did good.

earlier, he tried to kiss you before heading out to get food, only for the plushie to be squished between you two, completely blocking him.

and it always became like that. it annoyed him so much but he ignored it because it's stupid to get jealous especially over a toy,

plus he knew you'd also laugh at him.

now, after finishing dinner and cleaning up, you were curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone with the duck plushie in your arms. he stood behind the couch with his arms crossed, glaring at the duck's eyes.

then he kissed the top of your head, massaging your shoulders, hoping that maybe you'd let go of it for a second and when you didn't, he tried to take it from your grip. you immediately tightened your hold. "stop..."

"can you put it down for a bit?" he asked, nicely.

"no, you gave me this," you refused, hugging it even closer.

ni-ki rolled his eyes and snatched it right out of your arms before tossing it across the room.

"riki!"

you removed his hand off you and quickly tried to get the plushie back and moment you grabbed it, ni-ki got close again, stealing it right back before lifting you and carrying you to his room.

you protested, kicking your feet in the air.

"me first, y/n, come on." he sighed, trying to be calm, pretending he wasn't getting worked up over a stuffed duck.

he threw the plushie onto the bed, staring at it like it was his sworn enemy.

he wanted to tell you that he'd get rid of it if this kept up but knowing you, you'd probably cry so he just kept his mouth shut.

ni-ki pulled you closer, kissing you eagerly and deeply that you felt your knees going weak.

you barely gave yourself time to catch your breath because your hands were already tugging at his shirt, desperate to get it off of him, to feel his skin against yours.

and the moment his shirt was gone, you kissed him again, pulling him down with you as you fell back onto the bed, his hands roaming your body.

you pushed your pants down in a hurry, wrapping your legs around his waist, already locking ni-ki in place.

he glared at you in disbelief. "so you wanted me this bad, huh?"

and yet you don't give him any attention? ridiculous...

you nodded, biting your lips sexily. "yes, baby..."

ni-ki's hands found your tits, fondling and massaging them while his lips trailed down your neck, sucking, teasing the sensitive skin. his fingers traced circles around your nipples before dipping his head down, licking aggressively against one.

a gasp left your lips as pleasure shot straight to your core, making you squirm beneath him.

he moved to your other nipple, not wanting to leave it neglected, tongue swirling and sucking while his free hand slipped between your thighs, rubbing your clit fast as he grew more confident after he felt you getting more wet under his touch.

your breath hitched, hands gripping at his shoulders as you whispered his name over and over, breathy and desperate.

ni-ki positioned himself in front of your chest, "hold it together," he murmured, grabbing your wrists and guiding your hands to press your tits together.

"like this?"

"y- yes..."

his dick slipped between them, the warmth of it made his jaw clench. ni-ki moved slowly at first, watching as the tip of his cock hit your lips.

then you opened your mouth more, tongue out so you could lick his tip while he was just feeling it glide between your soft, slippery breasts, where each motion sent shivers down his spine.

you moved in rhythm with him, bouncing and pressing your tits tighter together. the friction made him moan deeply from his chest.

the way his dick, now wet shaft slid through your soft flesh... it was intoxicating, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

ni-ki's thrusts grew rougher, more desperate. his grip on your shoulders tightened as he chased his release. "ahh, fuck..." he came hard, hot cum splattering across your face, dripping down to your neck, chest, and breasts. he chuckled weakly at the sight, grabbing a towel to wipe it off your face then he threw it over the duck's head but you quickly removed it.

"what about me?" you pouted, looking up at him expectantly.

ni-ki groaned, rolling onto his back. "wait, my back hurts."

"babe!"

he quickly moved on top of you again before you could complain any further, pinning you beneath him and pressing his heavy body against yours that it made it hard for you to breath... but that's exactly how you wanted it.

he slipped his still-hard cock inside you before quickening his pace, his lips hovering just above yours, warm against your skin.

stupid duck.

it sat there beside you, pouting while its beady little eyes watched you having sex with him, and to ni-ki, it was staring like it was mocking him, taunting him that it had your attention.

his jaw clenched reaching out before smacking it off the bed, sending it tumbling onto the floor without a second glance.

then he moaned, head tilting back slightly as he thrust into you harder, like that was the last distraction standing in his way.

your eyes widened, "riki-" your words were cut off by the sharp snap of his hips, he was gripping on your waist, his fingers dug into your soft skin as he moved with more intensity, really reaally desperate to cum for the second time.

and he wasn't going to let you focus on anything else again.

you bit your lip, trying to suppress a giggle but it escaped anyway. his jealousy was so ridiculous and so obvious but somehow, it only made your boyfriend even more cute than he already was.

ni-ki looked down on you, his smirk returned as he slowed his movement, enough to make you ache for more. "you think that's funny?"

you whined, tilting your head up in an attempt to kiss him, but he pulled back, smirking and kept distance to drive you insane while moving his cock inside agonizingly slow. "riki, please." you whimpered, nails clawing at his back, walls of your pussy clenching tightly around his dick.

"say you love me more than the duck," he demanded, fingers holding your jaw to make you look directly at him.

your lips parted but words wouldn't come out. your brain was too foggy, too overwhelmed.

ni-ki picked up his pace again, pounding into you so hard the headboard slammed with noises against the wall. your moans mixed with the sound of his breathy groans as he dragged out the pleasure out of you, fast and overwhelming.

"say it."

"fuck! riki, i love you more-" you gasped, voice breaking as you leaked all over each other's thighs.

ni-ki smiled, satisfied as he finally closed the space between you with a messy, sloppy kiss. his thrusts turned erratic, hips stuttering as his own release hit just seconds after yours, spilling it all deep inside you.

he buried his face into the crook of your neck. his breathing was heavy and his body were still trembling against yours.

"i only love the duck because it looks like you..."

ni-ki lifted his head to glare at you but he's too exhausted to argue, and too fucked out to even roll his eyes properly, so he just scoffed, letting his lips press against yours again, shutting you up the only way he knew how.

a/n: requested! ( •ө• ) ( •ө• ) ( •ө• ) ( •ө• ) ( •ө• ) ( •ө• ) ( •ө• )

マスターリストm.list

taglist 𖤘: @dolliewon @ziiao

[sirxlla]

Hey! Can you make a hc of the batboys with their S/O getting wasted and claiming they have a boyfriend when they are their boyfriend. Thanks

You're Drunk & Telling Them You Have a Boyfriend

----------------------------------------------------

Dick: "Uh, Uh. Get your slimy hands off me, Miiissster...I know karracheee." You slurred your words as he held you up in his arms to get you to the limo, maybe drinking so much at the gala was a bad idea. You made what your drunk self believes is karate hands at him.

"Wow, Karache? Really?" He laughs as he slowly lowers you into the limo onto the long seat.

"You'll seee...you'lll seeee I promise." You slurred as you rolled over face down into the long leather seat.

"Oh no, I'm sure I will, Pumpkin."

"Who you callin' pump-e-kin? Thats- I- Onllyyyy my boyfren allowed to call me that." You said a bit aggressively; it was like a baby bunny trying to take on a lion: attack = a hundred, damage = zero. You quickly fell asleep. The booze got to you, and when you got home, he had to remove you from the seat, your face red where the leather stuck to your face. He unzipped and pulled your dress off and your shoes and let you go to bed before kissing your head.

"G'Night, Pump-E-Kin." He teased you even though you couldn't hear it. "Pump-E-Kin." He whispered to himself with a huge grin before heading to the shower.

Jason: "Ohhhhhh, slow your roll, Muchachos. I got a boyfriend." You said as you waved your finger in Jason's face when his fingers even grazed your hips.

"Oh, yeah, who's this boyfriend? Tell me about him." He so badly wanted to know what drunk you would say about him considering he's never seen you drunk before.

"He kicks names, takes asses." You giggle, not even noticing or thinking for a millisecond that you said that phrase wrong.

"He takes asses? Is that what happened to yours?" Jason was always quick with it and it was even more fun with the idea that you were drunk.

"Hey, that's not nice. I'm gonna tell my boyfriend." You huffed like a cute angry kitten.

"Oh, yes. Please do tell your boyfriend. I'd love to know this boyfriend." He was making the most out of this moment; he'd cherish this forever and tease you just as long.

"Jay-son" You sounded it out as you went to call Jason, slowly scrolling through your phone. "Jay-son" You kept scrolling.

"You got a picture of this Jason?"

"I got millions." You pulled up a picture and showed him.

"Hmmm, this guy is pretty handsome. He looks familiar? I don't know where..." He watched as you zoned out while looking at the picture.

"I just love him so much." You turned into a puddle of tears within a few seconds. "He's everything to me."

"Awww, Babygirl. It's okay." He said as he hugged you and rubbed your back as you sobbed over the man you were right next to.

Bruce: "Y/N, that's more than plenty. No more drinks for the night." He tried to get the drink from you and could if he really needed to.

"You can't tell me what to do, you're not my boyfriend." You down another shot, and before it, you're trying to dance on the bar.

"I- Im, Yes, I am." He looked so confused at your words and how you were claiming not to be his girlfriend.

"My boyfriend's Batman. You know?" You made yourself look like you had pointed little devil ears. "Like Na Na NaNa Na Ba Batman!" You giggled completely out of it before nearly slipping on the bar

Of course, Bruce caught you before you fell too far. You started laughing so hard from being so intoxicated. He carried you out of the bar while paparazzi took pictures of you. If the alcohol in your system didn't have you disoriented, then the flashes from the cameras sure did. They gave you a horrible migraine which slowly pulled you out of your drunken state and back to a sober one.

"Mmmmm...my head feels awful." You grumble as Bruce helps you inside the manor.

"I'm sure it does, you had a lot to drink. We should get you out of those heels and into bed."

"What even is the difference between and manor and a mansion." You asked as he kneeled down to take your heels off.

"Well, A manor is a large estate with a historic significance and is a primary residence. A mansion is a large house that is over 7,000 square feet." He explains as he sets your heels down in his large walk-in closet.

You look at him with a face of complete confusion. Bruce laughs and smiles as he heads back over to you, taking your dress off.

"If you're still interested in the morning I'll explain it all to you." He took his mother's pearls off your neck before laying you down. Bruce put you under the covers and tucked you in like a little kid.

"Good Night, Beautiful." He kisses your forehead and heads down to the Batcave to work on a case he's been trying to break.

Tim: "Don't touch what you can't buy, Bub!" You said as Tim politely tried to guide you away from the party with a hand on your lower back.

"What are you even talking about?" He laughed as he slowly herded you like a cat towards the kitchen on a higher level so you could sober up somewhere quiet.

"Do you think Taco Bell called themselves that because it sounds like Del Taco? Is that like who came first the chicken or the egg? Mmmm, my boyfriend would know..." You grab your phone to call your boyfriend, which makes Tim give you a look of almost humorous astonishment. He laughs as he picks up the phone.

"Yes, Baby? What can I do for you today, Sweetheart." He asked as he stared at you, trying not to laugh.

"I'm with this guy, and I asked him if Taco Bell came first or Del Taco, and he doesn't know...Do you know?"

"Taco Bell, I believe, Honey." You hang up your phone before looking back at Tim.

"My boyfriend said Taco Bell."

"Your boyfriend sounds really smart."

"Oh, he really is and he's so nice to me. He got like so so many squish mellows, and they're so soft." You start getting emotional, and he can see the tears in your eyes, and he realizes he needs to get you into bed quickly because the last thing he needs is to carry you through a lot of drunk party-goers.

Tim very slowly gets you back to your room and gets you laid down on the bed you two share. He grabs a squish mellow that he knows you love most and puts it in your arms.

"You know my boyfriend would really like you; you're so sweet and caring, just like he is. He wants to make sure everyone's safe and happy. He's like a cute lil guy and he's just so amazing."

His heart swells about five sizes, and he thinks it might burst. It's sweet how loyal you are when you're drunk but also how highly you think of him, it means the world to him. Just as he thought he couldn't love you more, Tim finds himself being sucked deeper and deeper into the hole that is his love for you.

Damian: "Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah. No. I have a boyfriend and he'll kick your ass." You said as you waved your finger in his face as you swayed from side to side.

"Yes, I know I am your boyfriend." He asks with a stern and annoyed look.

"Then what did I eat for breakfast and the color of my underwear?" You slurred with a smug voice.

"Cinnamon French Toast, and they're Burgundy; I know cause I made you breakfast, and I bought them."

"They're red." You giggle, which is bothering him even more; he's annoyed mainly because he needs to get you out of here. He's worried about the company around here, so therefore, he's worried about you.

"Burgundy is a color of red, Babe. Come on, we need to go. Come on, Beloved." He tries to help you up on the floor before you turn into dead weight in his arms.

"Well, isn't that just great?" He picks you up and puts you over his shoulder to get you out of the bar. Some creep acts like he might try Damian like a dumbass, he stops them in their tracks with just a single glare and his resting bitch face.

"Ha, Ha. Pussy." You laugh at the guy as Damian gets you out of the bar and twords his car.

"Hey. Hey, don't antagonize people. Lay down." He says as he puts you down in the back of the car. "Be good." He gets in the drivers seat and starts driving to the manor, he calms as he gets you both further and further away from that sketchy bar. He glances back at you every so often as he drives.

Once he parks the car he gets out and picks you up to get you inside. Between the front door and his bedroom theres a large pool of drool on his shirt from you. He smiles and lays you down before taking your heels off. Damian heads of to shower and change before climbing into the bed with you, gently moving hair away from your face that was stuck in your chapstick.

"Get some sleep, Beloved."

Send me prompts if youd like. ♡

Masterlists

[muqingslover]

here I am thinking about goofy/strange habits each lads LI have when the two of you share a bed.

Xavier

First and foremost he is getting in bed with you no matter what.

If you're on the couch then he WILL find a way to fit and snuggle with you it's like cats are liquid theory.

Xavier likes to slip his hands under your clothes to feel your warmth directly.

He'd lay his hand flat against your tummy and let his thumb gently brush the soft skin while he relaxed.

The real problem is that, in more than one occasion, you wake up with his hands on your boobs.

Be it small, medium sized or big, he doesn't care. He is not doing anything just holding them for some reason while fast asleep.

Sylus

He likes to sniff you like a dog.

Sylus will pull you close against his chest after getting in bed and then he just sniff sniff

You told him multiple times to stop that but he can't help himself. I mean, what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

He finds comfort in your scent. It's specific to you and he absolutely loves it.

Even more so after you use his bath products so you start smelling like him and that makes him feel all fuzzy.

He will nibble on you like you're his personal chew toy. Don't freak out when you find red spots and teeth marks all over your skin the next day.

At times you may also find yourself being crushed to death by his very large and very heavy body. Don't worry though, just tap him a few times and he'll roll off of you.

In conclusion, Sylus is a very big dog with wings.

Caleb

This guy has a HANDFUL of bad habits like I could make a post just for him.

One of them is that he watches you sleep. And I mean watch.

The entire time he's so focused on your slumbering form that you'd think he was watching the most entertaining TV show in the world.

You have mini heart attacks whenever you wake up in the middle of the night and see him just....looming over you like a sleep paralysis demon.

You definitely socked him in the face by reflex once or twice. He's fine, he dodged it anyway.

It's not nearly as bad as to when the neighbors came to check in after you screamed bloody murder.

Additionally, Caleb takes pictures of you and has you losing hairs because he refuses to delete them

"Oh c'mon! You look sooo cute!"

Do yourself a favor and dose his drink so he'll leave you alone for the night./hj

Rafayel

This guy is the worst roommate ever.

Just kidding I love him.

He is very annoying though because his bad habit is to wake you up.

If he can't sleep then he's making it everybody's problem, including you.

He will hold your nose or be purposely loud so you wake up and then give him you the most fake nonchalant "Oh, did I disturb your afternoon nap?" "...It's 2 in the morning." "Well, since we're both awake now anyway—"

Literally not a single peaceful night of sleep unless he's asleep as well. It's like having a toddler.

My suggestion? Lock him in the bathroom while he's in the bathtub and enjoy your beauty sleep. You have at least four hours before he notices.

Zayne

He has no bad habits.

He will let you sleep as he should and just makes sure you're tucked in and comfortable. Top tier gentleman.

If I was to pick one is the fact he sleeps like a statue and scares the life out of you because of how stiff he is.

He sleeps on his back like a mummy and doesn't move at all throughout the night.

It's similar to when cats fall deep asleep and you can't wake them up so you think they're dead.

Just make sure he's breathing and bring him in to cuddle and everything's gonna be fine.

[vacationbimboschool]

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer.

Cop!Rafe Cameron x reader

Content below: smut, ass slapping, oral (m receiving), rough intercourse.

Words: 2.1k

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Rafe muttered as he turned you around, securing handcuffs around your wrists.

"Now, what did I tell you about running off? Haven’t you learned by now that you should do as I say?" he continued, his tone laced with amusement.

You huffed in frustration, rolling your eyes. "This is unbelievable! I wasn’t even the one who threw that party!" you protested.

Rafe swiftly turned you back around, forcing you to face him while keeping your hands restrained behind your back.

"You were the only one who ran when you saw me. That’s illegal, you know?" he remarked with a smirk, his grip firm on your shoulders.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"But don’t worry," he added, opening the back door of his car. "I’ve got just the thing to make you learn."

"Get in," Rafe commanded.

Taking a deep breath, you complied, stepping into the police car. It was official—your parents were going to kill you.

As Rafe got into the driver’s seat and started the engine, you gazed out the window. However, confusion set in as you noticed you had passed the station.

Your brows furrowed as the car approached a house instead. A two-story white beach house came into view, its luxurious exterior standing out even in the dim glow of the night.

Rafe pulled up in front of the house and stepped out, making his way to the back door of the car. As he opened it, you remained seated, staring at him in confusion, unsure of what to do.

"Come on, get out of the car," Rafe commanded.

Slowly, you stepped out, your gaze fixed on the grand house before you. The cool night breeze tugged at the fabric of your white sundress, making it sway gently.

"Shouldn’t we be at the station?" you questioned, your voice laced with uncertainty.

Rafe merely smirked, unlocking the front door. "Don’t worry," he said nonchalantly. "My methods of discipline are just as effective."

He opened the door, stretching out his hand insinuating for you to walk first.

“Thank you, sir” you thanked him as you walked in

“No need to thank me yet” he said, walking right behind you suddenly gripping on your wrist. They were still handcuffed and guiding you through his home.

When you finally made it upstairs, you could see there were four rooms: Two on each side, all with open doors. Rafe guided you through the third door, which was on the left. You both entered his bedroom.

You looked around. It was simple but elegant. Everything was perfectly clean and organized. His room was pretty big, just like the rest of the house.

. A king-sized bed sat against the wall, covered with a black duvet. There was a desk and chair in the corner, and a dresser with a flat screen TV on top.

Rafe closed the door behind you and let go of your wrist, gesturing towards the bed.

"Sit down," he commanded, his voice firm but with a hint of excitement.

"I said sit down," Rafe repeated, his voice firm. You reluctantly obeyed and sat on the edge of the bed, your eyes darting around the room nervously. He stood between your legs, looking down at you with a mixture of authority and desire.

"Good girl," he said, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him.

"You're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you?" he asked, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your thighs. "You're going to listen to everything I say and do as I say, right?"

You nodded silently, unable to form words as his touch sent shivers down your spine. He chuckled, clearly enjoying your submission.

"That's what I like to hear," he said, his hands moving further up your thighs.

He suddenly stood up and grabbed your wrists, pulling you up with him. He bent you over his lap, your chest pressed against the bed. You gasped in surprise as he roughly pulled your dress up to your waist, exposing your backside.

"This is for not obeying," he said, his hand coming down hard on your ass with a loud smack.

"Oh," you gasped, your body jerking forward from the impact. It hurt, but there was something else there too - a mixture of pain and pleasure that made you want more.

He chuckled again, rubbing your sore skin with his hand. "Count for me," he ordered.

"One," you said shakily, trying to keep your composure. He brought his hand down again, even harder this time.

"Two," you gasped out, your body trembling. You were starting to feel a heat pooling between your legs, despite the stinging pain.

He continued to spank you, each hit landing harder than the last. Your mind was reeling, a mixture of pain and humiliation flooding your senses. You could feel your arousal growing with every strike, and you were beginning to crave more.

"Five," you moaned, unable to hold back any longer.

He stopped spanking you and ran his hand over your red, sore skin. "Good girl," he said again, "Taking your punishment so well."

He leaned down and whispered in your ear. "Do you want me to make you feel good now?"

You nodded desperately, the sting of the spanking still fresh in your mind. "Yes," you whimpered.

"Please."

He chuckled and flipped you over so that you were lying on your back. He spread your legs apart and positioned himself between them.

"You're such a needy little thing," he said, his eyes roaming over your body. "I love seeing you like this."

He began to slowly pull up the hem of your dress, exposing your legs to the cool air of the room.

Once the dress was fully unbuttoned, he slid it off your body and tossed it aside. He took a moment to admire you in just your underwear, his gaze lingering on your breasts.

He reached down and traced a finger along the edge of your underwear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I think it's time to take these off too," he said, his eyes dark with desire.

You lifted your hips up slightly to allow him to slide your underwear down your legs. Once they were off, he tossed them aside as well, leaving you completely naked beneath him.

He pushed you down onto the bed and pinned your arms above your head, moving his face close to yours, his breath hot against your skin. "You know how much I hate when you disobey me."

He flipped you over and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back roughly. “I’m gonna make sure you listen this time”

You nodded, your heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement. You knew that when he was angry, he was rough, and you loved it.

He guided you down to your knees, his eyes locked on yours as he watched you settle between his legs.

"Open your mouth," he commanded, his voice firm.

You obeyed, parting your lips and sticking out your tongue, eager to please him. He ran his fingers through your hair, guiding your head towards his cock.

"Mhm," he praised as you took him into your mouth. "Just like that."

He held your head in place as he began to slowly thrust into your mouth, savoring the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around him.

"That's it," he groaned. "Take it all. I want to feel the back of your throat."

He held your head in place, thrusting into your mouth at a speedy pace. He was hitting the back of your throat with every thrust, and tears started to stream down your face as you struggled to breathe.

"You look so pretty like this," he grunted.

He continued to fuck your throat, his grip on your hair tightening as he got closer to his climax.

You could feel your own arousal building again.

"I'm going to cum down your throat," he warned, his thrusts becoming erratic. "And you're going to swallow every last drop."

You nodded as best as you could, your eyes locked on his as you braced yourself for his release. He suddenly pulled out of your mouth and began to stroke himself quickly, looking down at you with a predatory gaze.

"Open," he ordered again, and you obeyed, sticking out your tongue and waiting for him to finish.

With a deep groan, he came, shooting ropes of hot cum onto your face and into your mouth. You swallowed what you could, but some of it dripped down your chin and onto your chest.

He watched as you licked your lips clean, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Such a messy little thing," he said, reaching down to wipe the remaining cum off your face. "You did well. But we're not done yet."

He pushed you onto your back again and spread your legs wide. "Now it's my turn to have some fun," he said with a wicked grin.

He positioned himself between your legs and wasted no time in thrusting into you. He grabbed your thighs and pushed them up against your chest, folding you in half as he pounded into you relentlessly.

"You're so tight," he grunted. "I could fuck you all day long."

He was hitting your G-spot with every thrust, and you were moaning and writhing beneath him in pleasure. You were already sensitive from the earlier throat fucking, and you knew you wouldn't last long.

"I'm close," you panted. "Please, let me cum."

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Cum for me, and maybe I'll consider letting you off easy."

His words sent you over the edge again, and you came hard, screaming his name as your body shook. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, his pace never faltering.

"Good girl," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

"But we're not done until I'm satisfied."

He flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled you up onto your hands and knees. He gripped your hips and began to pound into you from behind, his thrusts even harder than before.

"I want to see your ass bounce as I fuck you," he growled, smacking your ass hard.

You let out a cry of pain and pleasure, your ass stinging from the impact. You pushed back against him, trying to meet his thrusts, and he rewarded you by smacking your ass again.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked, his hand coming down on your ass repeatedly.

"You like being punished like the naughty girl you are."

You could only moan in response, your mind hazy with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Your body was sore, and you knew you wouldn't be able to walk properly for days after this, but you didn't care. You were completely at his mercy, and you loved every second of it.

He continued to spank you as he fucked you, leaving red handprints all over your skin. "You're going to feel this tomorrow," he promised. "Every time you sit down, you'll remember who owns you."

He finally stopped spanking you and grabbed a handful of your hair again, pulling you up so that your back was pressed against his chest. He reached around and started rubbing your clit again, his fingers working you roughly.

"I want you to cum one more time," he commanded. "And I want you to say my name when you do."

You were a mess, your body trembling with exhaustion and overstimulation. But you obeyed him, his fingers working their magic on your sensitive clit.

"Rafe..," you stuttered out, barely able to form the word. "Please, I can't take anymore..."

He chuckled, amused by your pleas. "Oh, you can take it. You're my good girl, remember? You'll do as I say."

He bit down on your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your skin as he continued to rub your clit.

"Cum for me one last time."

The combination of pain and pleasure was too much, and you came again, this time harder than ever before. You screamed his name at the top of your lungs, your body shaking uncontrollably as you reached your limit.

He held you tightly as you came, his grip on your hair loosening as he felt you go limp in his arms.

He finally pulled out of you and laid you down on the bed, admiring his handiwork.

"Hope you learnt your lesson."he said again, stroking your hair.

You lay there, panting and exhausted, your body aching in all the right places.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "I'm going to get you cleaned up and I’ll take you back to your parents house," he said softly.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

Eddie squints into the bright sunlight flooding the kitchen. He’s eating a bowl of lucky charms that taste like chemicals and fake sugar and he’s not even sure he’s going to make it to the end of the first mouthful. The texture is grainy and artificially chewy and Eddie is sure he used to like these.

Steve, the guy in Eddie’s house, sits himself opposite with a neat little piles of scrambled eggs and cut fruit on his plate. He looks at Eddie, gets up again, pulls the blind just far enough that Eddie’s eyes are shaded, and then comes back again.

“Can I get you anything?”

“You can get the fuck out of my house,” Eddie replies. But there’s no bite. No meaning. No energy. No anything behind the words. He’s so fucking tired and so done with it all.

Steve carries on like Eddie hasn’t spoken, and eats his breakfast.

Eddie’s spoon clatters on the rim of the still full bowl; he goes back to bed.

Eddie blinks open gummy eyes to find some electrolyte sports drink thing and a banana sitting offensively on his bedside table. His cock is hard and unrelenting and making him fucking miserable. He flops over onto his back and shoves his hand down his pants, thinking vaguely that he’d kill a dude for a bag. For a pre rolled. For a fucking cough sweet.

He comes too fast, his knot doesn’t even pop, and it feels empty. Like he’s starving and someone handed him a handful of popcorn; doesn’t solve anything. If anything, it’s made it worse.

He clambers out of bed, his sweats soaked with come. When they start to slide off his too skinny hips, Eddie lets them. Watches as they slide to the floor, a wet, pointless mess. Just like him.

Eddie stalks into the kitchen, Steve’s sitting at the table, he has a pen in his hand, and he’s tapping it gently against the page. Doing a cross word or something, Eddie guesses. Where the fuck did he even get a newspaper. Eddie didn’t even know you could still buy newspapers any more.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something to make all this better? Isn’t that your fucking job, or whatever?”

Steve sits back, he doesn’t seem to bat an eyelid over Eddie being naked, and he doesn’t stare either, just makes normal eye contact like Eddie being bare assed in the middle of the kitchen is a day to day occurrence.

“Are you open to taking a suggestion?”

“Are you open to taking a suggestion,” Eddie snarks back, bitches back, “like what?”

“Have a bath.”

“A bath? Really? That’s all you got for my...recovery or well being or to cure me of being a fucking addict?”

“No. You just stink,” Steve replies, still in his totally even and reasonable tone of voice.

“I’m in rut,” Eddie snaps back.

“Are you?” Steve raises an eyebrow, “can’t smell anything over the arm pint stank.”

“I- you- that’s just fucking rude, aren’t you supposed to be working for me? You can’t say shit like that-”

“I work for Chrissy.” Steve folds his newspaper and stands, “I presume you have a full bath in your en suite.” And Steve just...walks away. Eddie trailing behind as Steve lets himself into Eddie’s room and then into his bathroom.

“Oh. Sure. Just, make yourself at home,” Eddie bitches at him, “you just do whatever the fuck you like.”

Steve sets the bath running, rummages around under the sink and comes up with bubbles and bath salts that Eddie didn’t even know he had.

He wonders vaguely how bad bath salts would burn if he tried to snort them.

And then Steve starts cleaning, while the bath fills. He pulls out supplies, wipes down the counters and sinks. He throws some bleach down the toilet and wipes that down, “get in,” he turns the taps off, “I’m going to find something for this mirror.”

The mirror does look grim, Eddie can’t remember the last time he even had the cleaning lady over. He can’t remember if he’s still paying her. He can’t remember Chris saying a word about her. He wonders vaguely where she’s gone.

Eddie lies there in the steaming water, eyes slitted and vaguely watching as Steve brings the glass back to a perfect mirror shine, climbing up on the counter stretching high to buff away every last smear.

“I had a cleaning lady. Where’d she go?”

“She quit months ago.”

“She quit?” Eddie asks, genuinely surprised, “why?”

Steve raises that eyebrow, “wage dispute.”

“Fuck off, I paid her plenty.”

“Didn’t sound like any amount would be enough for what she was dealing with.” Steve lets that one sit, and Eddie wishes Steve would at least be smug or be a cunt or anything about it, but he’s not, he just delivers it like it’s a calm fact, the same as everything else he has to say. “I’ll do your hair.”

“I’m not a child.”

Steve doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. His face is an unreadable mask of cool professionalism that’s screaming, ‘why do you act like one then?’

When he wets Eddie’s hair, Eddie’s sure he pours water all over his face on purpose.

Eddie sits in the tub, Steve perched on the side, and he lets Steve wash his hair. He knows which products to use. He knows which order. He knows what to let sit and when to bring out the wide toothed comb. This is not Steve’s first rodeo with curly hair.

Eddie slumps back at some point, muscles feeling like they’re unwinding and unspooling into the water, his eyes have been closed for ages and he doesn’t remember closing them.

It takes a long time for him to put it together.

“You’re not washing my hair any more,” he slurs. He sounds a little drunk.

“No,” Steve says quietly.

“What, you a masseuse too?”

“I wear a lot of hats. It’s part of the job. I believe in a holistic approach to recovery.”

"Oh yeah," Eddie speaks quietly, "gonna' wave your magic wand and fix me? Solve all my problems and let me skip off into the sunset?"

"No. You're probably going to be fighting this battle for the rest of your life."

"Jesus Christ. Do you have to be so honest about it? Aren't you supposed to be all positive and shit."

"I am being positive. I'm positive you'll always be an alcoholic and a drug addict-"

Eddie snorts a derisive noise.

"But I'm also certain it gets easier, if you stick with it."

Eddie makes another dismissive noise, and goes back to being half asleep, Steve’s sure fingers working into his scalp.

Steve leaves, at some point. The water starts to cool. Eddie starts to become aware of himself, and he doesn’t like it. The rut is there, itching under his skin, but it feels weird and half formed and almost like it’s happening to someone else, far away.

He vaguely wonders about scoring and then realizes he can’t. It just makes him want it more though. The more he tries not to think about it, the more he can’t avoid thinking about it.

He gets out of the water, finding clean towels on the heated rails he dries himself, twisting his hair up on top of his head inside a towel.

His bedroom has also been cleaned, the sheets changed. The drapes are pulled and a window is open, letting in fresh, warm afternoon air.

Steve has laid out a clean tee shirt and sweats on the bed.

Steve can go fuck himself.

Part Three

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst (I guess, I'm not sure lol) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide A/N: Soo I was going to make a fluffy/smutty story but my PMDD hit me hard af and then BOOM, this. This was super hard yet easy to write at the same time probably because it's a self insert lol like this is literally me. Sylus' "perfect" persona does intimidate me and I grappled with the thoughts of "what if Sylus was real, could he actually handle this?" I hope everyone enjoys and please please please remember to take care of yourselves! 💗

Next

When was the last time you crawled out of bed today? Your stomach twisting, hunger pangs turn into nausea. But the thought of forcing your limbs to carry you into the kitchen for food feels insufferable. So, you stay buried in the tangle of unmade, unwashed sheets. A hint of fabric softener desperately clinging to the fibers, the stale scent of sweat and skin already taking over. Earlier, you pressed your nose into your shoulder, checking. The sweet floral deodorant from days ago (you think) has spoiled into something sour.  

Each day and sleepless night blend together. They become hard to tell apart, except when the phone rings. Work is calling again—probably to ask when you’ll be back in or to terminate you. You know you should care—you do care! Well, you used to. You liked your job; you were good at it. But does it bring you joy? Right now, does anything?

Everything feels like a chore that you can’t be bothered to attempt. Showering? The thought alone is exhausting. But thinking about the steps that come before the shower is enough to make you sit in your own filth. You reach up absently. Your fingers get lost in the greasy roots and tangle in the mess below. Dandruff flakes dust your pillow. You picked at your scalp while scrolling for hours. Anything to pull you out of this pit you’ve fallen into, for a moment of relief. Your stomach churns each time your tongue touches the slimy coating that has built up on your teeth. Panic spikes at the thought of cavities—the decay, a reminder of neglect. Yet, there you lie, paralyzed by your own anxieties. God, you want to move. You really do. But then you tell yourself, I’ll brush them after I eat, for sure. You know it’s a lie. But it makes the guilt easier to swallow.  

These bouts come and go, pulled in by a force you can’t escape—because you are the force. Like the moon dragging in the tides, summoning waves too strong to withstand. When you’re up, you trick yourself into thinking that you have it all together, like you’ve cracked some secret code. You throw yourself into work, into people, an endless loop on performance mode. Blissfully numb. Until the crash. The tide swells too high, knocking you under and swallowing you whole. Then you’re here, again. Bedridden. Isolated. Time slips through your fingers. Days, weeks—who knows how long. Until someone notices your absence. Usually, him. Then you have to explain why you vanished and begin to collect the pieces of you that have washed back ashore.

“You should trust Sylus more," your therapist had said, voice gentle but firm. “Let him in during these episodes. He wants to help you.”  

You nodded, pretending to consider it, not missing the way they emphasized the "want to help you" part. But the idea was absurd, laughable. Let Sylus see you like this? No, it’s better this way. You can keep your dignity and him, a win-win situation.

This episode—as your therapist calls it—came at the perfect time. Sylus is away on a business trip, conveniently absent when you’ve sunk to your lowest. He gives you roughly three days of no contact before the constant calls start rolling in. This time, luck was on your side, a twisted kind of luck, but still one that was to your advantage. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror that he’d feel if he saw you like this.

Undeserving. That’s the only word that comes to mind when you think of Sylus, especially in moments like these.

Sylus, the man who has everything—and if he doesn’t, he simply acquires it. Always composed, always in control. He’s the kind of person who seems to glide through life, untouchable. You can’t imagine him unraveling, not like this. No, if he ever stumbled, he’d just power through it. There are no obstacles he can’t overcome.  

Until you.

You are the only thing he can’t fix. A threat to the pristine world he’s built. Thankfully, he hasn’t seen you like this, and he never will. He can’t.

Your therapist says your way of thinking is the problem. You don’t let him in. You don’t give him a chance to understand. Your therapist doesn’t know Sylus like you do. What if he does understand—but secretly believes you’re too much? And knowing Sylus, what if he doesn’t leave, but worse—stays out of obligation? Out of pity?

Your chest begins to tighten at the thought, your heartbeat picking up. You’d rather disappear completely than let him see you like this.

But before you can spiral any further, the doorbell rings.

[bunny-jpeg]

let me see that smile

mark webber

tags: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, sugar daddy!mark, age gap (20s/48), dirty talk, videos/recording, pillow humping, daddy kink, masturbation, filthy (!!!)

a/n: filthy, ka-chow!

you: miss you, daddy <3 mark: i know, be home soon. keeping the bed warm. you: of course! mark: how are you feeling? you: i'm kinda sad today :( mark: hopefully that gives you something to smile about, princess.

the next notifcation was that he had deposited twelve hundred dollars into you account with a note that read, "daddy's been missing you, can you give him something to get through the next few days?" anyone could see that you were mark webber's spoiled princess. but you thought that was fine, because you spoiled him in return.

mark webber was your older sugar daddy, close to fifty years old he quite enjoyed having someone younger to sink his teeth into. and you enjoyed the attention of an older man who would do anything to make you smile. and with the money securely in your account, you got to work.

he didn't pay for sex, that felt sleazy. he paid for your attention, your time, your company; it just happened that sex was part of it too. he loved you in cute lingerie and with a cunt for of silicone toys. even when mark wasn't fucking you directly, he held the keys to your release. you didn't cum unless you got permission.

you changed into nothing but a small cotton pair of panties and one of mark's t-shirts and set up your phone camera in front of the bed. you smiled a little bit as you started the recording. you knelt on the bed and giggled a little as you pulled the shirt up to expose your panties. you sighed dramatically, "i miss you, it's not fair that you had to go all the way to italy without me." you rolled your hips a little bit and you groped your breasts through the fabric of your shirt, "leave me all alone here. it's not fair." you knew that mark would get off to it.

mark liked when you whined, when you bitched and moaned until he got to shut you up. either with some money in your wallet, a purchase you wanted or his cock in your mouth. you played with your breasts some more and huffed, "i'm not a dog that you keep at home while you go away." as if you didn't have a choker (read: collar) that you wore when you left the house. you eventually rubbed your pussy over your cotton panties and let a damp spot form as your moans got a little louder. the house you lived in with mark was secluded, you could be as loud as your little heart desired.

you sent the first video with the caption, "hugs and kisses." before you got the shirt and panties off and started the next recording. you grabbed his pillow and shoved it in your face as you rolled your hips against nothing. you felt excitement brew through you as your anticipated what was to come. you moaned into the pillow and rubbed it up against your breasts until your nipples got hard. you gasped into it before you put it between your legs.

you humped the pillow like an eager little pillow. your mouth hung up and your eyes on the camera lens as the fabric rubbed against your clit. you felt the sensation up against your body, it felt good. there was something about how you moved your body that made your body feel flustered. you whined, "please, daddy. at least bring me back something nice from italy. you know i always loved it there. we could've spent the whole weekend in bed, fuck sky news." you giggled as you planted your hands on the bed under you and really worked your needy cunt up against his pillow. you soaked the top of the pillow case with your wetness as the fire of lust burned in your belly.

"fuck, daddy. i need you, i need you so badly. can you please give me permission to cum today? you didn't let me yesterday and i had to edge myself for almost an hour so i could go to sleep! i know it's not the same as that big cock of yours. but going without orgasms is like going without water!" you humped the pillow a little faster and dug your fists into the covers as you felt the pleasure leap through you.

you thought of him, you thought of his hands on you. you thought of how good it would feel to have his lips on your neck. to bite at your tender breasts or lick across your needy pussy. you had a habit of believing that mark ruined all other men for you. no one else could be as addicting as him.

mark had a certain charm about him that drove you crazy. you wanted him often, it didn't help your raging lust for older men. men with big hands and charming smiles, the kind that liked to spoil you and made you sexually needy. fuck did mark make you needy.

you knew that he'd come back and take proper care of you. mark wasn't one to leave his toys unattended for too long. especially ones with such expensive taste, you could already imagine the gift from italy that was waiting in his suitcase. you continued to rub your needy clit against the pillow, soaking it with your wetness. you wished he was lapping at your sex, his fingers pleasuring you on top of it.

"i can't wait for you to come home to me, daddy. i can't wait to have you in bed with me again. i've been thinking about you while i've been here all alone. i know you said i could have friends over, but i'd rather you fuck me until i can take your cum in the back of my throat. i'm needy without you." you whined a little louder as the pleasure zapped through your body. your clit felt stimulated from the soft pillow.

you knew you would change the cover after, but knowing mark he'd want you to keep it on so he could get a good smell of it when he got home. he said there was nothing more intoxicating to him than the smell of you wet cunt.

you were getting close, you had permission to cum by virtue of you sending him a video. he didn't want to leave you too needy, or else you might get desperate. you continued to hump like a sweet little angel and the pillow between your legs was a cloud. you could already imagine what mark was up to. where he was and how he'd feel when he saw the video.

"please, daddy! come home soon! i need it! i need you!" you whined as your entire body tensed up and you came with the pillow between your thighs. your core throbbed and your pussy wetness properly stained the pillowcase. you slowed down your movements until you placed both hands on the mattress to steady yourself. you panted loudly in the quiet of the bedroom.

you looked to the camera and smiled brightly with heat in your face. you said between heavy breaths, "thank you, daddy. i can't wait till you get home." before you went from the phone on the stand to send to mark.

soon the videos were sent and you got into a new pair of panties. the old pair and the pillowcase were thrown in the wash for later. you went to go grab some water as you waited for his response.

but it came rather quick and you almost choked on the water when all you got in response was a picture of mark's hand grasped around his cock. soon after there was a text that read, "there's that smile, angel. forgot how noisy you were in bed, but that's alright. when daddy comes home, he'll keep that mouth of yours full." <3

[takenbypeter]

<3

Bucky Barnes x reader

Words: 682

A/N: Just a lil pure fluff for Bucky. I’m in my Bucky era again

You stared at your phone. Something was wrong. 

Right?

See you soon <3

You read the text again focusing on the heart at the end. This wasn’t him, right? It must’ve been somebody impersonating him.

You sat at the counter of your kitchen in thought with your phone laying screen up while your hands were interlaced pushed against your lips. 

You were starting to get worried. Should you call somebody, should you call Sam? No they were together, if someone got to him then someone got to Sam too. Your mind was racing in thought. The only thing that broke its focus was the sound of the front door unlocking. 

Your eyes darted to the sound as you grabbed a nearby knife. But the hammering in your heart stopped once you saw Bucky entering your apartment. 

You let out a sigh putting the knife down as he threw his duffel bag to the floor before looking at you for the first time. 

“Woah, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. I just thought something went wrong on the mission for a moment, that's all.”

He frowned, taking his shoes off and stepping closer. “I said I’d see you soon, why would anything be wrong?”

He planted a kiss on your cheek, passing by you to grab a plum from the fruit bowl. 

“I don’t know, I guess your message just threw me off.”

He let out a hmm, sort of in agreement. But that was it. 

“Well the ending was the part that really threw me off.”

He nodded again as if that was that. 

You were going to have to yank the bull harder to get the answer from him. 

“So yeah, what was up with that? That’s not like you?”

“What?”

You pick up your phone, “Bucky, come on…” he looked at you as if having no idea what you’re talking about, you had to fill in the answer for him to continue the conversation, “the heart at the end! You’ve never done that before.”

“Oh I just thought it was a nice thing,” he shrugged it off as if it was no big deal. 

“It is a nice thing, a really sweet nice thing but it’s just it’s so random, you know?”

Bucky sighed, “yeah I figured, you know I don’t tell you enough how much I care for you, so I figured I’d start doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Telling you I love you.”

Now that. That took you aback. 

“Huh? You don’t tell me how much you love me?”

“Yeah…it took me so long to say it and some guys were talking on the mission and it just made me realize that I don’t say it as much as I should.” He finally turned to you fully, “I’m sorry, I’ll say it more often from now on.”

You wave your hands in the air trying to shut down this whole claim of his, “stop just stop. You say it all the time. It might not be verbal but you say it in the little things; when you make dinner, when I fall asleep and you carry me to the bed, when you buy me something because it reminds you of me—that’s all you telling me you love me Buck. Come on now don’t be silly,” you continue, clearly upset that he would even accuse himself like this, “and you do tell me you love me, so whatever those guys said they can buzz off. If anything it’s not you who doesn’t say it enough it’s me who doesn’t say it enough, so Bucky,” you go to where he’s now seated on a stool and you put two hands to his cheek squishing them in the process, “I love you.”

Bucky’s stoic expression breaks in your hands, knowing you’re passionate about his feelings and that you just want him to know how good he is, “I love you too.”

You grin and kiss him chastely. “Now aside from that, the heart was a cute touch. I'm definitely screenshotting this.”

Bucky rolled his eyes while a smile continued to decorate his lips. 

[goodluckchamp]

PURE NICOTINE (18+)

PAIRING: Patrick Zweig x Art Donaldson x Reader  WORD COUNT: 2415 CONTENT TAGS: Smut, MMF threesome, bondage, edging, cigarette burns, sex toy, vibrator, ruined orgasm, overstimulation, light sadism, everyone is technically a switch but mostly bratty!Patrick + subtop!Art + dom!reader SUMMARY: You and Art have had enough of Patrick Zweig. Time to tie him up.

Patrick without Tashi is a problem. 

He’s always been smug, always been rowdy, but Tashi could keep him grounded. But with her away on a trip? He’s like a dog who managed to slip away from his leash— all unchecked energy and sharp teeth. 

And it’s wearing you and Art down. 

He’s the worst in the bedroom— dominant by default, with an endless stamina that leaves you both scrambling to keep up. He throws his weight around, laughing when you squirm and going harder when Art cries. It’s not that he doesn’t care, he does— he’s just excited to finally have some form of control, abusing his newfound freedom. 

God, you miss Tashi. 

Because now, you’re spread out on your and Tashi’s beds pushed together, the gaps between the mattresses barely noticeable beneath the damp sheets twisted around your legs. It still smells like Tashi against your face, her perfume something flowery and addictive. The air is thick with salt, sweat, and warmth, but the half-broken fan does nothing to cool you, stirring the heat around while you try to catch your breath. Your fingers idly trace the aching parts of your body, sticky with a mix of Art and Patrick. 

Art is worse, collapsed against the pillows, chest rising and falling rapidly as he pants. His golden hair is wet against his forehead, skin stained pink where Patrick’s fingers had dug in too hard. He barely moves with his eyes squeezed shut, except for the slow, twitchy shift of his fingertips against the sheets, like he’s trying to bring himself back to reality. 

And then there’s Patrick. 

Patrick is half-sitting against the headboard, one arm draped behind his head while the other entertains a cigarette. His body glows in the shitty, dim lighting of your room, letting the smoke curl up to the ceiling and dissipate. His hair is a mess, but he leaves it like it's all a part of the experience, looking too pleased with himself. 

His gaze flicks between you and Art, relishing his moment of glory— and when your eyes meet, he grins. 

You recognize what it means and groan. Not again. “No.” 

Patrick rolls towards you but you shove him away, hard.

“Patrick, get the fuck away from me.” 

“Come on, one more.” He practically whines at your rejection, hand crawling towards your stomach as he exhales smoke in Art’s direction. Art shivers. “You both look like you can handle one more...” 

You huff, pushing yourself up from the sheets. Art blinks at you, dazed, and you stare at him with intention— and you don’t even have to say it. He knows what to do. 

Art takes a breath to steady himself, then crawls towards Patrick. He shakily brings himself up to press his lips to Patrick’s, and Patrick grins, taking it as a sign of Victory. Not missing a beat, he grips onto the blonde curls to yank Art closer, deeper. There’s a muffled gasp at the pull and Patrick chuckles against the kiss, completely lost in it, not even realizing that you have grabbed his discarded belt from the floor. 

As you climb onto the bed again, Art shifts, straddling Patrick and pushing him onto his back. Art grabs Patrick’s hands and forces them up towards the headboard. There’s a sharp change in the way Art is kissing him now— teeth digging into his lower lip, threatening to break the skin. Patrick moans, trying to move away to touch Art— but Art is determined, locking him in his place.

Patrick falters for a moment, his cigarette slipping from his fingers and landing on his stomach. 

A choked sound escapes Patrick at the sudden contact. The hot tip of the cigarette presses against his skin and he jerks— it stings. You quickly use the time to wrap the belt around Patrick’s wrists, securing them tightly against the headboard.

“Shit—” Patrick sputters. “You— fucking—” 

Art watches smoke drift from the cigarette, almost satisfied at the way Patrick writhes beneath him. You give him grace and reach for the cigarette from his stomach, watching his muscles tense at the graze of your fingertips. Patrick lets out a sharp breath at the sight of a red mark, but you ignore his pained, almost betrayed expression.

He watches as you bring the cigarette to Art, pressing it to his pink, puffy lips. 

Art takes it without a word, locking eyes with Patrick before slowly inhaling, letting the nicotine fill his lungs. He breathes out, letting the smoke drift across Patrick’s slick skin. 

Patrick tugs against the leather restraints, like he’s testing how serious you two are with this, but there’s no way out now. You smile, pleased with the turn of events, taking a drag of the cigarette yourself. Bitter. 

“What are you gonna do to me, huh?” Patrick tries, trying to claw back some control. 

Without indulging him, you head to the drawer beside the beds, pulling out a small, unmarked cardboard box. You lift the lid, revealing a neat collection of toys, some bought by you and some gifted by Tashi. Your fingers ghost over the selection, eventually choosing a sleek black dildo.

Patrick stills at the sight of it, a nervous laugh leaving him. 

“Why do you even buy those?” A smirk. “You have me.”

“Well,” You flick on the small button and the silicone starts to pulse. You press it against your palm, letting the sensation ripple out as you lift your gaze to Patrick. “You don’t vibrate, so…” 

Patrick swallows, eyeing the silicone as if to size it up. He’s excited, you can tell, with his cock an angry shade of red and hard as a rock— totally shameless about the fact that he is.

And that’s the annoying thing about Patrick Zweig— he’s never embarrassed about what he wants and how he gets it. If you try to humiliate him, he’ll lean into it. If you make him beg, he’ll do it loudly. If you try to break him, he’ll give you a show.  

So, how do you wreck someone like Patrick? 

Art moves away to sit beside Patrick as you settle back onto the bed, kneeling between his legs. He watches you with an expected grin. Like he knows he’s still getting what he wants out of this. 

“You’re both acting like I won’t enjoy this.” 

His arms flex against the belt. His cock twitches, blatant, but you don’t give it focus yet. You press the toy against his stomach, watching Patrick hungrily move towards the vibration. You move it across his abs, following his happy trail but not quite getting to the pleasurable areas. Patrick’s breath hitches, anticipation forming from his depths as he licks his lips.   

“What do you want from me?” He’s too impatient. “You want me to beg? I’ll beg.” 

Annoyed, you push the toy on the cigarette burn and he hisses, muscles twitching at the aching sensation. 

“Mm.” He tries to shift away, body bending and rocking the bed with it— but Art’s hand snaps out, slapping his chest. Patrick lets out a surprised gasp at the sting, a red mark blooming over his pec. “Jesus Christ, Art—” 

Art ignores it, forcing another sharp slap down to the same place. This time, Patrick moans, the heat of it going straight to his groin. 

You turn the vibration up, then slowly drag it down to the tip of his cock, rubbing it against the precum beading at the slit. He drops his head back against the pillow, mouth parting open with a happy groan. You let it hum right there, just enough to give him some friction as Art moves towards you. 

He starts kissing your jaw, hand moving to touch your tits to give Patrick something to watch. Patrick bucks his hips because it’s not fair, it’s not enough— his head clouds at the smoke curling at his face and you flick the ash off the tip of the cigarette. It falls in a fine gray trail, landing against his pelvis. 

Just when Patrick feels like something is starting to form, you turn it off, taking it all away. You bring the dildo to Art, pressing it against his mouth and he obeys, letting you slide it between his lips. He coats it in his saliva, taking it deeper as you peer down at him, drawing another hit of nicotine. 

Art closes his eyes for a second, breathing through his nose as you push it down his throat. You can hear him moan softly as he works around the length, letting Patrick see it all. The toy slides in and out with a wet, rhythmic sound. 

“Cock slut,” Patrick says from the background. 

Art pulls back with a glare, letting you wipe some of his spit off his lip. You laugh at Patrick’s unearned confidence, lining the dildo up to Patrick’s entrance. 

“Finally.” He grins. “You’re gonna fuck me good.” 

Out of spite, you shove it inside him, the sudden intrusion making his body jolt. A sharp gasp tears from his chest, and he clenches around the toy, twisting at the belt around his wrist. 

You don’t give him a chance to adjust as you start the vibration again, this time at the highest setting. It slides in deep, legs bracing and abs rippling at the pulsing sensation. Meanwhile, Art squirts some lube then moves to take Patrick’s cock in his hand, watching it twitch against his touch. He starts to stroke him, up and down, at an unbearably slow speed. 

“Mmm, fuck,” Patrick pants, thrusting up towards the contact. “F-faster–” 

You twist the dildo and it hits the spot that makes him whine like a dog, his head tilting back, revealing his Adam's apple bobbing with every strained breath. You smoke as you watch Art pump Patrick up and down, going faster by the second. 

It’s not long until Patrick starts to beg.

“Keep going, I’m right there, I—” He stutters, clenching his eyes shut. “Holy— fuck—” 

“Stop.” 

Patrick’s eyes flutter open in panic. 

“Wait—” 

Art obeys immediately, and you turn off the toy as Patrick’s head tilts backwards. He thrashes in his place, as if he can somehow chase his lost orgasm. 

“Oh, come on, come on,” He babbles, turning to you with a strained smile. Like he’s amused but deeply terrified at the same time. “That’s your plan? Denial? That’s—” He cuts himself off when you start the toy again, the low buzz just enough to make his hips convulse. He huffs. “Okay. Okay.” 

You give a nod towards Art who starts again, looking at you with arousal in his eyes. You realize that his own cock is standing at the sight of Patrick’s subjugation, and you smile, leaning closer and locking lips with him as he continues to work the length.

And the two of you edge him over and over again. 

It's been, what, an hour? Maybe two?

And Patrick is a mess.

His body shifts instinctively toward any touch, seeking relief, seeking pleasure— but the moment he gets too close, you remove everything, pulling him out, forcing him to simmer in the cruel, dizzying ache of being edged to his breaking point. 

Patrick is so loud— he’s always been loud— but louder now that you’re being mean. His voice is raw and hoarse as he whines and curses between short, erratic breaths. 

But after a while, you hear no noise, except for the shallow, wrecked sounds slipping out of this throat. When you finally look at him properly after an hour of disregarding his pleas, he’s flushed all over, skin damp with sweat, lips swollen from biting down too hard. Half-lidded eyes glossy with something dangerously close to tears. His hands are slack against the restraints, body trembling with muscles twitching uncontrollable from overstimulation yet no release. 

He’s somewhere between pleasure and agony, and he has never looked prettier.  

You lean closer to him, taking out the dildo but he barely registers it, clenching around nothing. You brush your hand against his chest and he jolts, thighs clenching and breath stuttering. He’s too sensitive, too desperate, every nerve alight with the unbearable ache of being denied. 

Delicious. 

“You want to come?” You whisper against his skin. 

Patrick releases a strangled moan. He’s beyond begging now— he doesn’t have the strength. 

You tell Art to move over and glide your hand on Patrick’s cock, squeezing and tugging the way he likes it. Patrick mouths something none of you can hear as he feels his orgasm approaching. You press your fingers into his mouth and his tongue circle around them, like he’s thanking you for this, thanking you for torturing him—

With a twist of your hand, the tension snaps— the orgasm hits him like a train— and you immediately move away from him. 

“Fuck!” Patrick cries, watching his cum splatter onto his spasming muscles yet feeling no pleasure. It’s too much and not enough all at once. The contractions are practically painful as he pathetically winces, and fuck, he’s still hard. He groans. “No, no, no…” 

You look over to Art, who looks painfully turned on at the sight of Patrick. 

“Think he’s had enough?” 

Art smiles. “He looks like he can handle one more.”

“Fu-uck,” Art drawls, rutting into Patrick as the headboard slams against the wall. 

Patrick's cock hits his stomach with each thrust, squirting out precum every time Art reaches a particular spot. You place the vibrator on his tip again and he wails— finally breaking down. 

“S- So deep,” Patrick sobs as you pat his hair, wiping the sweat off his forehead while he falls apart underneath Art. “So fucking deep—” 

And Art takes that as an invitation to thrust faster, harder, giving Patrick exactly what he needs. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the room. Patrick lets out a broken cry, body completely surrendering to the two of you. Art slaps his hand over Patrick’s mouth, cutting off the only form of resistance he has. 

You grin, pulling out your phone. The screen glows as you frame the shot— focused on Patrick’s weak, desperate expression, with Art hovering above him, his back tenses and glistening with sweat.

Perfect.

You snap the picture, attaching a follow-up message with it. 

Attachment: 1 image Come home the kids miss you <3

And then, just for the hell of it, you take a cigarette from Patrick’s stash, lighting it up. You watch the smoke swirl through the air as you hit send.

NOTE: Cigarettes are also called fags. So. Also this is my first time writing SMUT smut so... yikes it's kind of rough, kind of wattpad, but... I'll get better !!!

[yours-truly-q]

Even when he's running late, Caleb will never forget your kiss <3

☆

1k words, sfw, no warnings, for those who want to know this was based on the 24 hour schedule that was released for Caleb [:

<3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆

Caleb's late because you asked him ONCE that morning for him to stay a bit longer in bed with you and took that as an invitation to just spend another hour-ish in bed with you.

Now he's late because he just couldn't bare to leave you that morning

"Fuck!" You hear Caleb swear along with a thud. You huff, amused at his obscenity, while debating whether you're going to get up now to see what happened or just wait to ask him later. Grumbling, you shift in the bed and curl up, thinking about your options. As you curl up in the comfortable warm of the bed another crash resounds through the house and you sigh.

Groaning you tiredly sit up, clumsily pulling your blanket around your shoulders. With what felt like momentous effort, you haul yourself to your feet, waiting a moment to stabilize yourself before shuffling out of yours and Caleb's bedroom and towards the sound of profanities and the clattering objects.

Standing in the doorway of the bedroom, you look down the hallway before you see Caleb rush haphazardly from one room to the other, a repeating rant of "shit, shit, shit" following behind him. Curious, you glance from the room Caleb just entered to the clock on his nightstand and 'oh, it's 7:40 am' so not only did he miss his morning physical training, but he's going to be late getting to the fleet. You snort and slowly let your tired eye gaze back to the room Caleb is in.

"Pipsqueak?" Caleb's smooth voice calls out in a questioning tone, then a moment later, his head pops out from the side of the door. The moment his eyes lock onto your form, a bright grin slips onto his face.

"Are you...laughing at me being late?" Caleb asks, slowly strolling towards your form in the doorway like he has all the time in the world and isn't incredibly late. You roll your eyes and nod, fighting back a yawn.

"Of course I was, the feet space Coronel of all people is late. Plus as well seeing you skid around the house in a panic is kinda funny. " You explain, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

"Well, if I remember correctly, the only reason I'm late is because someone wouldn't let me go when I tried to get out of bed." Raising an eyebrow, Caleb lets a knowing smirk pull at his features.

"In my defence, I don't need to get up today aaaaand you should've just... got up." You mumble your weak argument as you glance away from Caleb, your eyes naturally falling on the ticking clock.

"Anyway, don't you have to leave, like, right now?" You change the subject, eyes still fixated on those ticking hands. Caleb frowns at the reminder while he lets his hands reach out to hold your hips, thumbs rubbing at the fabric of your sleep clothes.

Then suddenly Caleb clears his throat, causing you to gaze at him inquisitively, before he states in a slightly mirth-filled voice, "I do, but before I rush out the door like a mad man-"

"You are a mad man-" You add on quietly under your breath, but Caleb's pointed expression tells you that he heard that. You grin cheekily.

"...I have one last thing I need to do." He mumbles in a low tone as you feel his fingers flex over your clothing.

Then he leans in, a soft kiss pressed gently against your forehead, warmth immediately spreading from the area, leaving a sense of comfort in its wake. A smile tugs at your face, your eyes slowly shutting as you try to savour this feeling. The feeling of being so loved and cared for on this average, early morning.

Caleb's affectionate arms slide around your back, resting on your waist, and subsequently pulling you closer into his kiss and his warm embrace. Then all too soon, Caleb's lips have pulled away and you can feel the small pout that starts to pull at your face.

However, before you can open your eyes, another kiss is pressed to your cheek, the same amount of love pouring off of the action, then another to your cheek, then your nose, and before you know it, Caleb starts to drown you in his affections. His lips (that are now curled into an adoring smile) press clumsily into any patch of skin it can find, filled with so much burning passion that it almost puts you into a daze. The ticklish feeling of his mouth dragging across your skin (dragging because you both know he hates the idea of parting with you more that anything) causes you to squirm and push against and away from him. His arms only tighten around you.

You laugh, throwing your head back as a result, and try to pull yourself away again. That only leads him to kiss from your shoulder all the way up past your neck and to your jaw, leaving the skin tingling and warm.

"Caleb!" You manage to squeal out while another giggle ripples through your body. This doesn't deter his violent assault in the slightest, though.

"You're gonna be even more late!" You huff out between laughs, then you finally find that his kisses slow to a reluctant stop.

He sighs as he looks at you, his head resting on your shoulder. As you look towards this man's face, you find a smile that holds so much love paired with eyes that glimmer with joy, stare back at you in adoration.

"Fine, I'll go, but just one more before I leave." He mumbles, eyes glancing down to your lips before he leans in again. His mouth pushes gently against your own while his fingers rub tenderly into your back. Then, after a moment passes, he pulls back unwillingly because he knows if he doesn't leave now, he won't leave at all.

Even much later, when he's writing some reports at his desk, his mind will think back to that morning you two spent together and he won't be able to hide that longing smile that tugs at his face.

He was SO late that morning but he didn't care one bit because he got to spend those few moments that he'll cherish forever with you. You think I'm joking but I'm not, he won't ever forget that day because of how domestic and silly that morning was. It was everything he wanted and more

He just loves you

<3

This was supposed to be a short drabble, but then I started writing and now it's a 1k fic. I don't think I've written so much before in my life 😭 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and if you see any mistake, no you don't (Pls tell me in all seriousness though!!) [:

[p1astr81]

teenager!oscar blurb🙈

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

It was spring, one of those unbearably cold nights. Your bedroom windows were latched shut, the purple curtains pulled shut in hopes it would block any draft.

There was a knock on your window, startling you, hidden under your stack of heavy blankets; the bottom of which being a heated blanket, cranked to the highest setting.

You ignored the knock, clutching onto your blankets to revel in the security.

Another knock came, this one more desperate.

Erroring on the side of caution, you slid from the blankets to receive your old metal bat from your closet.

Steps were taken on the tips of your toes, stuttering when another—even more desperate—knock rattled the window.

Your fingers wrapped around the fabric of the curtains, throwing them to the side while you had your bat ready.

The face your eyes laid on drew a small gasp from your lungs, followed by a hushed laugh.

Oscar, sat on top of a tree branch and clinging on for dear life, was waiting outside your window. His cheeks were pink from the chill of the wind.

Carefully, you placed the bat against the wall, and opened the window.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in your dorm? Asleep?” Despite your hushed inquiries, there was a considerable blush on your face along with a smile. You tucked your hair behind your ears.

Oscar was struggling to hold on. “Let me in before I fall to my death, please?” He gave a half-hearted, nervous laugh. His breath fanned in a hazy fog of smoke.

“Yeah, yeah. Come in.” You stepped back.

Loud as ever, Oscar entered your bedroom. You hushed him, glancing back at the door, straining your ears for any incoming footsteps. There was none.

He apologized in hush tones, securing the window closed.

“What are you doing here?” You asked again in whispers and laughs. The risk of getting caught made you giddy. You took Oscar’s hand, dragging him to sit on the end of your bed with you.

Oscar laughed at your current state. “I was staying at one of the guys, and I realized your house was only a few streets away, so I cut through the yards and now here I am.”

You tilted your head. “Who are you and what have you done to my Oscar?”

He laughed.

“Because my Oscar would’ve never done something so rebellious.”

He smirked. “Your Oscar, hm?” He teased.

Hand on his chest, you gave him a small shove. “Shut up,” you rolled your eyes. To make up for your shoving, you leaned forward to connect your lips. Oscars hand took hold of your cheek.

The both of you, so immersed in the other, did not even register the sound of the door opening until your fifteen year old sister’s gasp shattered your shared delusion.

Whipping around, you stumbled after her as she progressed down the hall. You caught up with her, tugging her back down the hall. “Please, don’t tell them.” You begged her. Them being your parents. It seemed the little snitch’s favorite hobby was getting you into trouble.

She considered your pleas. “Only if you let me borrow your white top with the blue lace and buy me food tomorrow.” She demanded, smug as ever.

“Fine.” You seethed, releasing her.

When you returned to your bedroom, Oscar was lying on his side along the length of the bed. He had his head propped up in his hand, relaxed form while flipping through one of your decorative magazines. He paused. “This is scandalous.” He commented, an unreadable expression. He flipped the magazine around so you could see; a hot model in skimpy lingerie.

You snatched the magazine from him, tossing it on your nightstand. “Bet you liked it too, weirdo.” You grinned, joining him on the bed. You sat beside him, legs tucked beneath you.

“Was thinkin’ ‘bout how you’d look in it, actually.” He sat up.

Your face burned. “Creep.” You stated, leaning in once more to kiss him on the lips. A sweet connection.

You settled down, lying with your head on his shoulder.

Exhaustion pulled you towards the depths of sleep. You fought it off, hand momentarily tightening around his hoodie. “When do you leave for Italy?” You asked in tired murmurs.

“A week and a half.”

Something between a whine and a hum vibrated your chest. “Don’t go.”

He ran a hand through your hair. “I’ll be back before you know it, pretty girl.” He paused. “How about I bring you back a souvenir?”

You didn’t answer, at which point Oscar peered down to see your face. Completely at rest in your sleep.

He kissed the top of your head.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hi, it's me again! Could I request Jason Todd who has a moment of body dysmorphia while really spiraling inwardly mentally with him being so big, so changed after the Lazarus pit, having all these scars and the autopsy scar. His female girlfriend comes to help him and grounds him, reassures him. He's perfect the way he is and really lovable!

-------------------------🦇----------------------------

“Jason! Can you hurry up? I’d like to get in there before we go to bed.”

“Yeah. I’m working on it.” Jason called back to his girlfriend as he finished up his routine for the night.

Patrol had been light. So no need for first aid or stitches this time. Like he needed another scar. Sometimes when Jason looked into the mirror like now, he barely recognized the man looking back at him. Time was not always kind to mortal men who pretended to be superheroes. The physical strain. The bruising. The marks. He glanced over his body in the mirror. Old scars mixed with new. Some that were faded that he couldn’t remember how he got. Simply too old or memories that were lost to him in the Pit.

Jason flinched and clutched his head when he tried to think about the Pit. Visions of knives cutting into his flesh and stitching him back up. The scar down his front from chest to naval oozing with black putrid goo. Banging on his coffin liked the pounding in his head. Flashes of skin sluffed off a bleached white skeleton staring back in the mirror.

'Dead man walking. Dead man walking. Dead man walking!'

His hands lance out for the mirror before he could stop them. Ripping it off the wall with his bare hands before throwing it into the tub with a shatter.

“That’s ok. I didn’t need to shower anyway….”

Jason looked up, panting in his panic & rage, to find [Y/N] standing in the door. Her expression even but clearly freaked out about what he had done. The uncertainty of what he was going to do next. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.” Jason hissed through his teeth. No, it wasn’t ok. Why did people say that when things weren’t ok. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He said as he rubbed his face with his hand. How could he explain what was going on? “I just get these flashes sometimes. Headaches. Probably something to do with the Pit.”

“Well, coming back from the dead can probably be very traumatic for the brain.” She agreed. “Not to mention all the other trauma.” [Y/N] aware of his past, before & after coming back from the dead. She knew of his superhero exploits, and even his new role as a vigilante. “Why don’t you take a break for a while? Get your head straight?” She suggested. Carefully coming into the bathroom to avoid any glass or startling him as she came in to place her hand on his shoulder. “It might do you good.”

“I can’t.” He told her. “If I do then what was all this for.” Jason gestured to himself. All the pain. All these scars. His body mangled and twisted, along with his mind. What was the point of it if he couldn’t do some good, in his own way, with it.

“Maybe it’s just about you being here, and not some bigger picture Jason.”

[Y/N] wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder, giving him a light squeeze. “I know saving the world is important to you, but it’s not the only thing in the world. You need to focus on yourself sometimes. Talk to me. Or talk to someone. I think it would do you good.”

Jason listened to what his girlfriend was saying, then lifted his hand to grip her arm around his waist. “So, you don’t think I look gross?”

“What? Of course not! Is that what this is about?”

Jason shrugged. It was what had started all this but now it felt like it had spiraled into something more serious than he intended.

[Y/N] just rolled his eyes and let him go. “I’m not going to just stroke your vanity, Jason. You already know how hot I think you are.” She kissed his shoulder and gave him a withering look in the direction the mirror should be. “Come to bed you idiot. I’ll show you just how ‘not gross’ you are. You’re gonna be real disappointed in a minute though that you didn’t let me shower first before you blew up the tub. You’re cleaning that up tomorrow by the way.”

Jason chuckled. The shift from caring concern to just plain annoyed at how ridiculous he was being somehow grounding to him. “Yes ma’am.” He simply replied as he followed her into their bedroom to make good on her promise.

[gabseyoo]

BLANKETS — MIYA ATSUMU

content: msby!atsumu, established relationship, fluff, female reader. word count: 0,7k.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Atsumu asked, stepping into the room with only a towel slung low around his hips, his damp blonde hair clinging messily to his forehead. His skin still glistened with the remnants of steam, and he left wet footprints on the hardwood floor.

After a long, exhausting day, all he wanted was to crawl into bed, snuggle into his beautiful girlfriend’s arms, and drift off to sleep under the familiar blanket you shared.

But something was different tonight.

The first few steps of his nighttime routine went as usual—you were already in bed, reading a book and waiting for him—but the beloved gray blanket was neatly folded on his side of the bed, while a soft pink one covered your legs.

His eyes flickered to yours in confusion. “Why the question?” You asked, glancing up from your book. Then you noticed his stare and let out a quiet, “Oh.”

“You mad at me?” He pressed, his lower lip jutting out just a little, already preparing for the worst.

“I’m not mad.” You reassured him with a small smile. “It’s just an idea I had.” Before he could ask why, you continued, “Remember what we talked about? About, uh… your sleeping habits?”

Atsumu blinked. Oh. That talk.

Of course, he remembered. Two months ago. It had been two weeks after you moved in together, when love and domestic bliss were still new and shiny. You’d sweetly mentioned that his nighttime antics were, well, a little… chaotic. Sometimes throwing an arm over your face, sometimes draping a leg across you like an overly affectionate octopus. Which were completely fine for you, but the one thing you couldn’t deal with was that he was a shameless blanket thief.

He’d promised to work on it. But sleep-logic Atsumu and awake-logic Atsumu were two entirely different creatures.

So, you had tried everything. Tucking the blanket under you, securing it beneath the mattress—nothing worked. And so, you’d come up with a simple solution: separate blankets.

Atsumu, however, was clearly not a fan of this idea.

With a dramatic sigh, he shuffled to the closet, every step a performance of exaggerated woe. He tugged out a pair of boxers, his expression the embodiment of a heartbroken puppy.

“Baby…” You called to him, your voice gentle but laced with an I-know-you’re-about-to-be-dramatic tone.

“If you want to divorce me, just say so.” He mumbled, slipping on his boxers. His shoulders slumped, and he looked as if he might melt into a puddle right there on the floor.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “We’re not even married.”

“Exactly! That’s worse! You could just leave me. No legal ties, no paperwork, just gone—poof!” He flailed his arms for emphasis. “And then I’ll have to fight for the house in court while you take the dog that we don’t even have yet.”

“Atsumu.”

“And before I know it, you’ll find someone who sleeps like a corpse and doesn’t steal blankets, and you’ll never be cold again and—”

You shut your book, the sound soft but definitive. He stopped mid-ramble, watching as you set it on the nightstand and reached for his hand.

“Hey.”

He blinked at you, his expression still a perfect blend of pitiful and hopeful.

“You know it’s not about you being a problem, right?” You said, your thumb drawing lazy circles on his hand.

“...It’s not?” His lip wobbled just a bit, milking the moment for all it was worth.

You shook your head and gently pulled him closer. The distance between you dissolved, and with it, a little bit of his drama. “No, dummy. I just need sleep too.”

He exhaled, all his performative misery unraveling into a dramatic slump of relief. “Fine.” He muttered, dragging his feet as you coaxed him into bed. “But I don’t like it.”

You giggled and he immediately flopped down, half on top of you as usual, his weight pinning you to the mattress like a very clingy, very warm blanket of his own.

“What if we just get a bigger comforter?” He asked, muffled against your shoulder.

You hummed thoughtfully, fingers combing through his damp hair. “That might work.”

“We can go buy it tomorrow.”

“We can.” You agreed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “But until then, separate blankets.”

[tfwbluu]

・ SESSION #5 ・

pairing jungwon + ni-ki & f!reader 2118 words warnings no plot we yolo mean!dom!wonki & sub!reader rough raw sex (stay safe!) bdsm; bondage & toys face & pussy slapping double penetration; hole & mouth hair pulling cum eating squirting edging/overstimulation degradation

“Don’t be gentle with me. I like it rough.”

Those were some very famous last words—ones you never should’ve uttered so carelessly. But judging by the way your body shivered under their touch, you weren’t complaining.

Not one bit.

Your body trembled in its restraints, suspended between pleasure and surrender. The rope binding your arms together was expertly knotted, suspending your upper body just above the bed as it looped around the steel frame. Your arms were pulled taut, leaving you helplessly hanging while your knees pressed into the mattress, keeping the lower half of your body grounded. Each movement sent a delicious strain through your limbs, the contrast between restraint and pleasure sending waves of heat through you.

“You’re so cute like this doll. All tied up for us to use,” Jungwon muttered, his grip firm on your hips as he thrust into you from behind. The position left you completely at his mercy, your body trembling as he took his time unraveling you piece by piece.

The tension in the ropes had your muscles flexing, the slight pull against your arms only adding to the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. Your body swayed with each movement, the friction of the tight bindings against your skin a constant reminder of just how helpless you were in their hands.

A choked moan slipped past your lips as he pressed deeper, your head falling forward. Your hazy gaze caught the subtle bump in your stomach, the proof of how perfectly he filled you. The sight alone had your breath hitching, heat coiling low in your belly.

“Feel that, angel?” he whispered, his fingers ghosting over the faint bulge, a smirk playing at his lips. “I fit so perfectly inside you.”

“Please—‘m so close…!” you pleaded, your voice breaking into desperate moans as Jungwon kept hitting every single spot that made your eyes roll back—only to cruelly pull out the moment you were about to shatter.

“No, no, no, please!” you sobbed, frustration bubbling over as tears welled in your eyes. You had lost count of how many times this had happened, the denial twisting into a maddening mix of pleasure and torment.

Earlier. . .

“Oh, you’re close? Yeah?” Jungwon taunted, his thrusts deep and precise, pulling out another cry from your lips. You nodded frantically, hands twitching against the restraints.

“Please, please let me cum—no!” Your desperate whimper turned into a sharp whine as he pulled away, leaving you trembling on the edge yet again.

Your hips wiggled, body swaying helplessly in the restraints as you tried to chase after what was cruelly denied. Riki, watching with a smirk, brought his hand up in a sharp slap against your soaked pussy, making you jolt with a choked moan.

“Brats don’t get to decide, doll,” he drawled, his palm teasingly rubbing against your slick folds before delivering another sharp slap, sending another wave of heat through your overstimulated body. “You should be grateful he’s even giving you his cock.”

Jungwon hummed, gripping your waist firmly as he positioned himself again. “Just a little toy for us to use,” he remarked, before plunging back in—starting the torturous cycle all over again.

Back to the present, you were teetering on the edge of numbness, the overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain consuming you. Jungwon and Riki were relentless, their teasing words only driving you further into the haze of desperation.

“Look at you, baby,” Riki cooed, tilting your chin up so you’d meet his gaze. “All fucked out and still so needy. You really don’t know when to quit, huh?”

Jungwon chuckled darkly from behind you, his fingers tracing down your spine before gripping your hips. “She likes it like this,” he mused, rolling his hips into yours at an agonizingly slow pace. “Likes being our little toy, doesn’t she?”

You could barely form words, your mind fogged over with the unbearable need for release. “P-please…” you whimpered, unsure what you were even begging for at this point.

Riki tsked, brushing a thumb over your swollen lips. “Please what, doll? You’ve been so good at taking everything we give you… but do you really deserve to cum?”

Jungwon leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Mmm, let’s see how much she’s desperate for it.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, your body trembling from the overwhelming need. “P-please! I… fuck—ah!” you sobbed, your hips stuttering as the climax you had been chasing finally broke through. But relief was short-lived.

Jungwon clicked his tongue, pulling out and leaving you empty with need. You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt something cool pressing against your entrance. You couldn’t see properly, but the unmistakable shape of a toy told you everything.

“Cumming without permission now?” he mused, his voice dripping with mock sweetness as he pushed the toy inside, the small suction device settling snugly against your already-sensitive clit while the other side filled you up.

He gripped your jaw, tilting your face up to his. Dark eyes drank in your wrecked state, his lips curling into a smirk. “Tsk. Such a naughty girl.”

A sharp slap to your cheek made your body jolt, the sting lingering as heat spread beneath your skin. A choked whimper escaped your lips as the toy suddenly buzzed to life, another wave of pleasure crashing through your already overstimulated body.

“Can I have her now, hyung?” Riki asked, kneeling in front of you, his fingers replacing Jungwon’s on your chin. His cock stood tall against his stomach, dark eyes fixed on you as you whined and trembled in your bound state.

“She’s all yours,” the older replied, toying with the remote—dialing the intensity high and low at random, chuckling as your body reacted to his every whim.

Riki didn’t hesitate. He knelt before you, tilting your head up, his gaze drinking in the delirious haze clouding your eyes, your lips parted as soft, needy sounds spilled out.

He didn’t wait anymore, pushing inside quickly, his hips rolling in and out your mouth in quick strokes. You moaned around him, helpless to do anything but take it.

“You can do better than that,” Jungwon murmured, stepping closer. He gripped your hair, guiding your head deeper down Riki’s length, making the younger groan as you took more of him.

Choked, desperate noises spilled from your throat as the tip nudged deep, brushing the back. Riki's hips stuttered before he found a rhythm, thrusting faster, pushing you further, your eyes rolling back. The overwhelming sensation of him filling your mouth combined with the relentless vibrations between your legs had your body trembling.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Riki praised, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Jungwon’s fingers curled into your hair, firmly pulling you back just as you were about to take Riki deeper. A strand of drool and precum connected your parted lips to the tip of his cock, your breath coming in shallow pants. You whined at the sudden loss, your eyes hazy with need as you tried to chase Riki’s cock that was just within reach.

“So eager…” Jungwon chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement as he watched you try giving kitten licks to the younger’s tip. “You really can’t get enough, can you?”

Riki groaned at the sight, his fingers tracing along your jaw before delivering a light slap to your cheek. “Such a pretty cockslut,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint. His gaze darkened as he replaced Jungwon’s grip in your hair, guiding you back onto him with a deliberate touch.

Then, just when you thought you could regain control, a sudden jolt coursed through your body—Jungwon had turned the toy up to its highest setting. A gasp escaped your lips, your body trembling as pleasure threatened to consume you whole.

“Look at you,” Jungwon mused, watching the way your thighs quivered, the way your breath hitched. “Are you close?”

“She is,” Riki groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. “She’s moaning so much against me… feels so good doesn’t it, doll? Gonna cum for us, hmm?” His grip tightened slightly, guiding you to take him deeper, reveling in every shudder and muffled whimper.

The tension inside you finally snapped, a wave of release crashing through you, leaving you trembling as the toy did its job mercilessly. Riki followed soon after, a deep groan escaping his lips as he held you still, his fingers tangling in your hair.

“There you go… just like that,” he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. He stayed there for a moment longer, watching the way your lips parted around him, how you struggled to catch your breath, your body still sensitive from the aftershocks.

“She can take more, don’t you think, Riki?” Jungwon murmured, his tone dark with amusement as he removed the toy, leaving you empty for only a moment before replacing it with himself, stretching you all over again.

“Hngh! Faah…ck!” you yelped at the sudden intrusion. But Riki didn’t let you catch your breath—his firm grip guided your head back to his cock, pressing it gently against your lips. Instinct took over, your mouth parting as you wrapped around him, suckling softly, mind hazy with nothing but the need to give and receive.

“Of course, she can,” Riki agreed, running a hand along your jaw, watching as you gently bobbed your head for him. “She’s just our needy little slut, always so desperate for our cocks, isn’t that right doll?” His words were a taunt, but the way he brushed his thumb over your cheek was almost tender.

Jungwon groaned as he sank deeper, feeling you clench around him. “Still so tight after all that…” His voice was strained, his hands gripping your waist firmly, as if grounding himself in the feeling of you.

You could only moan in response, the sound muffled, your body trembling from the intensity of their attention. The ropes binding you left faint impressions on your skin, a silent reminder of just how much you were theirs.

Their thrusts were relentless, just the way you had begged for—deep and rough. Your mind blurred, unable to focus on anything except the way their cocks filled you so perfectly, stretching you open and leaving you utterly wrecked between them.

It wasn’t long before your release hit, your body tensing before unraveling, your juices squirting all over Jungwon’s cock as your legs trembled uncontrollably. Every desperate moan, every broken gasp vibrated against Riki, drawing a deep groan from him as he spilled into your mouth.

Jungwon wasn’t far behind, his hips snapping forward one last time as he buried himself to the hilt, spilling inside you with a low, guttural moan.

“Fuck… that’s it,” one of them muttered, their breaths heavy as they came down from their highs.

Slowly, they pulled out, leaving you sensitive and spent, warmth dripping between your thighs as Jungwon’s release spilled from you.

“You’re not tired yet, are you?” Riki murmured, tilting your face up to meet his as he pressed soft, lingering kisses against your swollen lips—a stark contrast to the way he had handled you just moments ago.

“Haa… s’too much… sensitive…” you breathed out, your body trembling from the relentless pleasure. “Aww, is it too much for you? But didn’t you say you liked it rough?” he cooed, his fingers threading through your hair, caressing you in contrast to his teasing words.

“C-can’t take it…” you whined, but the way your body arched into his touch betrayed you—it was a lie, and Riki knew it.

“Oh, you can, and you will take it, doll,” he murmured, his voice dripping with authority before delivering a sharp slap to your cheek. A needy moan spilled from your lips at the sensation, only for him to press his thumb inside your mouth, forcing you to suck on it. “That’s a good girl.”

Riki replaced his thumb with his lips, swallowing your whimper in a desperate kiss. Pulling away just enough to smirk against your mouth, he turned towards Jungwon, “C’mon, hyung… she’s practically begging for it.”

“Hmm, such a greedy little cunt,” Jungwon teased, his voice laced with amusement as he watched you clench over nothing. His fingers trailed down before delivering a sharp slap to your soaked, sensitive folds, making your body jolt and a desperate moan escape against Riki’s lips.

“So cute,” Jungwon continued, smirking as he watched you tremble, completely at their mercy. He did it again, relishing the way your hips twitched, your body instinctively chasing more.

Riki chuckled, brushing his thumb along your cheek before whispering, “We’ve got all night, doll… Hope you’re ready for that.”

A shiver ran down your spine, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew—you wouldn’t be walking tomorrow.

note LORDDD HAVE MERCY this was actually finished for like weeks but i wasn’t satisfied and kept changing things last minute but! i do hope this is ok cs in all honesty this too way longer than i wanted it to be T_T ARGHHSKSJS i also feel like i haven’t written in so long so might be a bit rusty… but hope u liked it still! its a bit rougher than what i’d usually go for but i tried >_<

tag list @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny @d-dilemma @crimson-reaper576

[satorusluver]

JJK men's favorite positions in bed (Toji and Nanami)

Tags/warnings: fem reader, established relationship, smut (minors begone), doggy, missionary, creampies, spanking, hickeys, slight breeding kink?

Word count: 460 ish

A/N: Idk this is just rambling about NSFW hcs for Toji/Nanami. Hope to do some of the other JJk men's fave positions too, esp Gojo. 🩵

Toji - doggy, I mean, is anyone surprised? I think he's an ass man (though he certainly appreciates tits) and there isn't a sight Toji enjoys quite as much as watching your ass bounce while he's pounding into you from behind, his thick cock splitting you open, savoring how it makes your poor little cunt look completely overstuffed. The man can't keep his hands off of it, grabbing and squeezing and most definitely spanking it if you're into that.

He's got the meanest smirk afterward too when he sees the red mark of his hand on your skin, chuckling at the way you wince when you try to sit down. He likes to mark you up in general when it comes to sex, leaving hickeys on you so everyone will know what you've been getting up to, that you're not as innocent as you look. He'd also love for you to leave hickeys on him and wouldn't try to hide them. In fact, he would be so fucking cocky about showing them off.

Toji prefers to fuck raw and cum inside you. Even if you were to get pregnant, the way he sees it he's already a father to one kid, so what's another? And maybe he wouldn't mind having a pretty little live-in girlfriend walking around his apartment in nothing but his T-shirt with his baby on your hip.

Nanami - missionary. Kento is romantic, okay? The man makes love, and missionary is his favorite for the intimacy and the ability to see your beautiful face. He's not really domineering in bed, but he will often tell you to look at him when your eyes roll back because as much as he loves the evidence that he's pleasing you, he loves getting to look into your eyes when he's making love to you more.

I don't think he's big on leaving hickeys in visible places because he doesn't want other men to think of his darling gf/wife in a position that's for his eyes only. I also don't think he's big on you leaving hickeys on him in visible places because he overall prefers to keep your private life, well, private. He'll definitely leave them/let you leave them in non-visible areas if you want to though!

Kento is a very attentive partner in your relationship and especially in bed. He always ensures he makes you cum at least once, preferably twice, before he goes over the edge himself - probably while mumbling a barely coherent "I love you", his light blonde hair falling into his eyes and his breath hitching in his throat and as he feels the first spurt of his thick, warm cum spill out from the tip of his dick, still buried deep inside you.

[daniiiboo]

the right height- qh43

summary- Quinn loves giving you forehead kisses, here is five examples of that

trigger warnings- nothinn just pure fluff!!

dani's thoughts- i put the poll up and you guys wanted Quinn first so here we are !! I'm in love w this fic so enjoy <3 !! ALSO PLEASE REQUEST SOMETHING REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!

word count- 696

Quinn Hughes had a ritual, one that he didn't seem to be breaking anytime soon. It was simple, in fact. Wherever possible, he'd plant a kiss on your forehead, like he'd been doing it his whole life. At first, you suspected he hadn't even realized he was doing it. But eventually, you realized, Quinn knew exactly what he was doing, and he enjoyed it.

When He Leaves for Morning Skate You did not like waking up early, and Quinn knew it. While he was lacing up his shoes, getting ready to head out to the rink, you were still fast asleep in bed, slowly waking up.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" he joked, standing by the bed, already dressed in his Canucks hoodie.

You groaned, your head in the pillow.

"Too early. I love you, but not quite enough to get out of this bed right now."

Quinn smiled, leaning down so that his face was inches from yours. "Fair enough," he whispered, then, he kissed you softly on the forehead.

You looked up at him, still struggling with your voice.

"You always do that."

"Yup," he grinned, squeezing your hip before standing fully up. "See you later, sleepyhead."

When You Complain About Being Short You were at the grocery store, trying to get a box of cereal from the top shelf, when Quinn appeared behind you and brought it down for you.

"You've got to be kidding me," you grumbled, placing your hands on your hips. "This is not fair."

Quinn chuckled.

"It's not my fault you're little."

You glared up at him.

"I am not tiny."

He simply hummed in amusement before leaning down and giving you a kiss on the forehead.

"Sure, whatever you say, short stack."

You rolled your eyes.

"Quinn!"

But he was already walking away, talking under his breath.

After a Tough Game You had waited for Quinn outside the locker room after a hard loss. He was exhausted, his hair still damp from a quick shower following the game, his face set in anger. Without saying a word, you spread your arms, and he hugged you instinctively, his face buried in your shoulder.

"You played great," you whispered, rubbing his back.

He let out a slow sigh, finally pulling back to look at you. His fingers brushed over your cheek before he dipped his head and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

You smiled.

"Feel better?"

"A little," he admitted, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before sighing. "Mostly just glad you’re here."

When You’re Trying to Stay Mad at Him Quinn had eaten the last of your favorite snack, and while it wasn't the end of the world, you were dramatically pouting on the couch about it.

"I'll get you more," he said, sitting down next to you.

"You always say that," you sighed, crossing your arms.

Quinn simply smiled, leaning in closer.

"You're really upset with me, huh?"

"Yes."

He leaned in further, tilting your chin up a bit before delivering a kiss to your forehead.

You gasped roughly.

"That's cheating."

"Nah," he grinned. "Just strategy."

You complained.

"I hate you."

"You love me," he said, planting an extra kiss on your forehead for good measure.

And, well… he wasn't wrong.

When He Says "I Love You" You both were on the couch and it was evening, you resting on your head on Quinn's shoulder and you were watching a film. You felt like you were drifting off to sleep when Quinn quietly shifted so the blanket settled on you.

You breathed softly sleepily.

"You're comfy."

Quinn chuckled softly, his voice a whisper.

"You're warm."

A couple of beats went by before he leaned forward and kissed your forehead slow and long.

"I love you," he murmured against your skin.

Your lips curled up in a half-asleep smile as you wrapped your arms closer to his chest.

"Love you too, Q."

And, as always, his tendency continued. For even though all the times he made jokes about your height, Quinn Hughes would trade having you at just the right height for forehead smooches for everything in the world.