#Tips for a Smooth Moving Experience

[bhagwatipackersmovers]

The Ultimate Guide to Hiring Packers and Movers in Greater Noida

Moving to a new home or office can be both exciting and overwhelming. One of the critical aspects of a successful move is selecting the right packers and movers. In Greater Noida, where the logistics landscape is competitive, finding the best service providers requires careful consideration. This comprehensive guide will help you navigate the process of hiring reliable packers and movers in…

[monstersholygrail]

In The Darkness

Shadow demon x fem!reader— sensory deprivation, multiple orgasms, bondage (cuffs), groping, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p in v sex, finger sucking, aftercare

Your shadow demon bf had opened your eyes and welcomed you into a whole new world of pleasure that was just waiting to you both to explore. And you have. You’ve done things you never thought you’d enjoy due to the love and trust you have in your bf. In return you’ve gained so many new experiences that you’d never want to take back.

At this point you’ve pretty much stopped asking questions whenever your shadow demon bf proposes that he wants to try something new with you. But this time you think you have to ask some questions.

Because when your shadow demon bf tells you that he wants to fuck you in complete darkness, you’re insanely confused. Sure, you two have never done that before. Always having on at least a candle so that you can see each other as your bf fucks your brains out. But this is far from the craziest thing you two have ever done and it’s left you having no clue what’s going on.

Still, you trust your bf. You follow his exact instructions and you relish in the submission of it. Of letting go of all thought and action, your bf’s voice being your only guiding light. Especially as the darkness surrounds you and it’s the only true thing you can grasp onto.

Tingles shoot up your spine. A smirk begins to play on your lips as you realize the possible appeal. A eery chuckle shifts through the darkness and you jump as a moment later two clawed hands firmly grip onto the waist of your bare form. The prickly tips of sharpened claws caress up and down the curve of your stomach, leaving sparks in their wake.

“What a vision you are in the darkness, my heart. Now do you see mine?” Your bf’s haunting yet alluring voice whispers in your ear. Goosebumps rise along your skin and your smile widens, getting a sense of his intentions with this newest request.

His touch as gentle as the wind, coursing through the pathway of your body till he reaches your breasts and the caress turns firm and purposeful. Groping you and pulling you tightly into his large chest. Your grasp rings out through the dark silent space. It’s echos vibrating and increasing the tension between you.

Leaning back into the comfort of his embrace, you moan. Nothing else to turn to, to focus on, besides his touch. Bringing the sensations to a new height till you’re writhing against him before he’s even done anything to you.

“Near total sensory deprivation, the only real thing being my voice. All of your senses now completely at my mercy,” Shadow demon bf rasps darkly, finally giving you some of his reasoning behind all this.

You have to admit that the idea of it is arousing and your body agrees as your pussy floods with your essence. Always so nice and wet for him, you can’t help it. Everything he says has your nerves standing on edge and your cunt fluttering and begging to be filled.

Careful claws tease and tweak at your nipples, whimpers escaping you as you tremble in his secure hold. You cry out, rubbing your thighs together to gain any semblance of friction you can get. Yet it’s not enough, your hole so achingly empty and needing to be stuffed full. Your mind grows foggy and centers in on this one desperate thought.

“Lost in the void and who is the only thing that can ground you?” Shadow demon bf whispers into your ear again, his forked tongue slithering out and licking along the smooth curve of your ear.

The sensation is quick, tantalizing, and gone far too soon. You whimper, leaning back into him. Your body, floating as if on cloud nine, seeking out that skilled tongue of his. Knowing with every fiber in what’s left of your present being that you’ll get it. So long as you’re good for him.

“You are,” you croak out, voice weak and wanting.

A low rumbles moves through your bf’s chest in agreement, clearly pleased with your willing and eager response. The loss of his touch on your breasts, on your hard nipples, is a hit your floating mind can barely handle. A loud whine escaping you until his cool touch returns, moving along your curves. The further down he goes the less you can breathe, simply waiting.

“That’s right, my starlight,” he says as his deft fingers dip into your folds, spreading them and spearing themselves along your slit. Your breath knocks out of you, exhaling heavily as he ignites the nerves of your pussy lips. They clench and contort around him, mindlessly guiding the digits to delve inside your hole.

Shadow demon bf chuckles at the feeling, causing your cheeks to tinge with red. Thankful that even if he can feel you, he won’t be able to see you in your lewdness. Another thing the darkness around you provides. Another thing you’re looking forward to. Your bfs voice and the slow glide of his fingers snaps you out of your thoughts.

“You overwhelm me, sweet one. You are all I feel and all that grounds me to this plane. I believe it’s time I repay the favor.”

Shadow demon bf’s fingers don’t leave you as his other hand guides you to bend down at the waist. Your own arms reach out, carelessly searching through the darkness until you find it. Fingers curl around the metal cuffs suspended in front of you. The click of each lock as they enclose around your wrists has your back arching, bracing yourself for what’s to come.

“Look at you, so good and ready for me,” Shadow demon bf mumbles, drawing lazy circle against your clit as he kneels down on the ground behind you. You whimper and push back, though his free hand is quick to grab at your plush thigh. Keeping you in place.

His keen eyes reflect in the darkness, giving him access to view everything in front of him. Yet you remain completely clueless. Just how he wants you. Your legs spread further as his fingers slide back down your slit, giving him the sight of your beautiful dripping pussy. Your essence dribbling down your thighs and making such a mess. A mess he’s more than ready to clean up.

In an instant that tongue you’ve been waiting for is back and it’s back with a vengeance. Your body jolts, cuffs clanging and ringing in your ears, surprised by the sudden slick texture of his forked tongued sliding along your thigh and pushing through your folds. Not having expected more than his touch at the moment. The darkness riding you of knowing what’ll happen next.

Though your anticipation doesn’t have time to build as shadow demon bf glides his tongue through your folds, swirling around your clit in a mind-numbing manner. You moan, body rolling into the sensations but not knowing where exactly to move. Leaving you to squirm in search of your bf.

Shadow demon bf grins viciously and you can feel it against your cunt, knowing his enjoying this. Loving how you struggle and silently beg for more of him. His hands shift to your hips, both keeping you in place and letting you know where he’ll be.

All you get in warning is a growl before your bf begins ravaging your pussy, sloppily lapping up your cunt. His hands spread your ass cheeks, widening the entrance for his tongue to slide deep inside your weeping pussy. Pressure weighs down in your belly as your pleasure builds, rising onto your toes and giving him better access.

He grunts his thanks and repeats his rhythm with precise precision and never ending stamina. He doesn’t stop fucking his tongue into your cunt until you explode around it. Your walls clenching around his tongue, your essence gushing onto his tastebuds. Shadow demon bf growls and unhinges his jaw, taking in every last damn drop and working you through it.

Both of you are breathing heavily as your orgasm begins to fade and your bf leans back. You still can’t see, hear, or feel anything beside the cold metal around your wrists. The only noise your breaths. Aside from that the silence stretches on and it has the hair on the back of your neck standing up straight.

“Ready for more?” Your bfs voice suddenly growls in your ear and you shout. Body jerking back and you immediately bump into his broad frame and right into his huge girth. His erection nestling against your ass.

Your eyes scatter and search the surroundings over the shoulder you hear him from but you can’t see anything. Only darkness. Before you can respond your bf crashes his lips against yours and you let out another muffled shout. But you respond without a beat of hesitation, opening your mouth and welcoming his tongue back inside your body. Both of you moaning into it as your cum tickles your own tastebuds.

Shadow demon bf’s cock slowly starts grinding into you, neither of you breaking your kiss. You stay perfectly still for him, keeping yourself wide open and needy for his length. Still not getting your fill of wanting to be split in two.

With your body all prepped for him, your bf guides his dick through your folds. Whimpers leaving you as his tip bumps into your sensitive clit. Your bf nips at your tongue affectionately before you feel his big mushroom tip, leaking heavily with pre-cum, push at your entrance.

With a simply push forward, your bf breaks past your entrance, sinking down into your eager sopping cunt. Your jaw drops, a loud moan lights the room up with noise as his cock stretches your walls for all their worth. Forcing its way in and demanding you submit to its sheer girth and the pleasure it’ll bring. You relax as much as you can, practically sucking him inside of you.

Shadow demon bf growls, your walls nearly suffocating him you’re so fucking tight. When he bottoms out his tip nudges at your cervix. The pain sharp and aching but so delicious. You close your eyes, basking in it all. You feel so full and so complete with him inside you.

Your breaths mingle and mix in the space between your mouths. Eyes open you continue trying to search for your bf in the dark, even knowing it’s useless. Wanting to see how much of a mess you make him and even maybe wanting him to see just how thoroughly he destroys you.

By the way he draws you, making you feel every thick and bulging vein along his cock against your walls before roughly snapping his hips back inside you, you almost swear he can see you. That he knows how much of a mess you truly make him. But that’s impossible right?

All worries and thoughts leave you in the blink of an eye as Shadow Demon bf starts up his demolishing pace. Claws carefully sinking into you to keep you steady. A loud roar rumbles through the room and you jump in your bones, which only serves to push your body back into his intense thrusts.

Your bf grunts, clearly approving and you cry out as he starts moving your body back into his cock, having you meet the rough rolls of his hips. Your body tenses, cunt clenching down around him and having you feel even more full.

Tossing your head back, your teeth clench, pleasure crashing through you in waves you can’t even think to stop as there’s nothing else for you to ground yourself with. Your lost in the sea of pleasure, tingling sensations of arousal pulsing within your body and spreading out over and over again.

Your bf watches your body twist and contort in order to take his giant cock and everything it’s making you feel. A twisted satisfaction burns through him at how much of a beautiful mess you look. The sight has him picking up his pace, slamming his length inside you, molding your perfect pussy to his shape. Making his home here and showing you he’ll never leave.

Moans and cries of pleasure are no longer enough as you release a fierce scream. You can faintly hear your bfs low groan, his voice feeling so far away. Lost in the abyss your hands try and reach for something— anything. But the clang of the cuffs is all that rings true. Sparking an idea in your mind you try and reach forward, hoping you can ground yourself by placing the chain of the cuffs in your mouth.

But just as you reach it, Shadow demon bf pulls you back and burys his cock back inside your crying and begging cunt. Emotion wells up inside your chest and you sob, tears coming to your eyes. Your body moves back into your bfs chest and his voice comes back down to your ear.

“Sh, sh, sh, my love. It’s alright, you’re alright,” he whispers soothingly, hand coming up to stuff a few of his large fingers into your mouth. You whimper, sucking eagerly, letting the sturdy size of his digits ground you back down to earth and help calm you down.

His other hand soothingly caresses your stomach as he continues to fuck into you, his pace not slowing down for a second. Making sure to take care of all your needs at once. Small whimpers continue to leave you, feeling better as his presence surrounds you and stays in your mouth and pussy. You move back into his thrusts again, all on your own.

Tendrils of darkness creep up from the deep and curl around your body. Having been used to them they only provide further comfort to you. One long tentacle wraps up and strokes at your clit, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. With a firm press of his hand on your stomach and a few more snaps of his hips, you scream once more, this time around his fingers as your orgasm bursts through you.

Your cum paints Shadow demon bf’s cock, your walls spasming and clenching down on his length. Sparks shoot up his spine and his teeth sink into your shoulder as he follows right after you into climax, his heavy load splashing deeply against your womb and filling your pussy even more than you thought was possible. His hips still rocking into you until you both sag into each other.

Shadow demon bf slides out of you gently but you still hiss at the slight sting. As your combined release spills out of you, you shiver and clench down to keep it inside of you. Your bf lights the room with a snap of his fingers and you breathe a sigh of relief as your senses come back to you. As gently as always, he unlocks you from the cuffs. Massaging your wrists and kissing them adoringly.

He guides you to bed, whispering praises, recounting every moment of what just happened through his eyes. Letting you know how good you did, how perfect you were for him, how absolutely gorgeous you looked then and now, and asking how you feel to make sure you’re alright.

Pouring endless praise and love onto you as he cleans up the mess between your thighs before he sweeps you up into his arms the moment you two get into bed. Pressing soft kisses all of your face and sore body. It’s only as you finally relax do you register all his words.

“Could you see me in the dark?” You ask incredulously, voice slightly raspy as you connect the dots. Your bf chuckles and you squeeze your eyes shut, dreading his response and forcing your own laughter down.

“‘Course I could, sweetheart. I’m a shadow demon,” he responds with amusement but your loud groan quickly overshadows his laughter. Red blooming across your chest and up your neck till it spreads all across your face. Your bf merely laughs louder, his hands caressing your back. Wanting to comfort you some before the inevitable teasing begins.

[ohsc]

Could you write an older Dean and younger reader? Such as late thirties/early forties Dean and a mid twenties reader. Maybe the reader is inexperienced, and Dean coaches them through it?

help you.

dean winchester x fem!reader, 1.9k, nfsw 18+, grinding, p in v, riding, kinda dirty talk, older!dean, inexperienced!reader, kinda unedited — requests are open

Dean’s been to heaven, but it didn’t compare to the bliss of having her in his lap.

He’s had her beneath him — in bed, in the Impala, in a few motel rooms — had her against the shower wall, and more recently at the result of his own impatience, against the library shelves. But, for some reason, he hadn’t had her in his lap before.

It was bliss.

Her breath was hot as she panted into his open mouth, and she was so warm, bare thighs against his own, hot palms that pressed down atop his own bare chest. The only clothing between them was their underwear, and Dean had struggled with the decision of whether he wanted to keep seeing her pretty bra on her or take it off for far too long.

His fingers dug into her hips and grinded her against his lap, and it was the noise he managed to pull from her throat that made the decision up for him. He wanted to pull as many sounds from her as he could, and that meant needing to get the garment off.

One of his hands stayed curled around the dip of her hip bone, whilst his other flattened against her smooth skin and moved upwards until he reached her shoulder, and he hooked his thumb beneath her bra strap, tugged it back just enough to snap it back against her skin, and a low chuckle escaped him when she jumped and pulled back slightly.

“What was that for?” Her mumbled words were a little too whiny for his cock not to throb.

“Just teasing’ you, baby,” he kissed her pout briefly. “You look so pretty, all worked up for me.”

She was such a sight. The fact that she was in his lap alone would’ve been enough to get him worked up, but she was so fucking gorgeous. Her lips were red and kiss-bitten, cheeks all flushed pink. Her makeup was a little ruined in such a way that drove him fucking crazy; lipgloss smudged — the same lipgloss he could taste in his own mouth — glitter that was supposed to be on her eyelids made her cheeks sparkle, black smudges of mascara beneath her eyes. She looked a little wrecked, and he hadn’t really touched her yet.

He reached behind her to unclasp her bra with practiced expertise before he slid the straps down and pulled it from her, groaned deep in his throat when her breasts were on view.

As Dean kissed her again, a bit wet and a bit lazy as he sucked on her bottom lip, his hand slid up from her hip and he cupped one of her breasts, gently squeezed the warm soft flesh in his palm before he thumbed at her nipple until he felt it harden breath his touch, and the breathy noises that were pushed into his mouth from her throat were gorgeous.

Dean had fucked her enough times to know what would pull certain reactions for her. He wasn’t sure she’d had much experience before him, and… Dean knew how it looked. He was getting on a bit, in his mid-thirties, and he had almost ten years on her.

(He had threatened to hit Sam with his car the moment a joking “sugar daddy” had passed his brothers lips.)

Naturally, she wasn’t as experienced as him, he knew that without having to be told. But the first time they’d fucked, and she questioned why he was spending so much time focused on making her feel good, just told him all he needed to know.

She’d only ever hooked up with shitty guys who just wanted to get off.

Admittedly, Dean had been that guy in the past. But the sight of her cumming was otherworldly. He wanted to see it again, and again, and again.

Dean grinded her against him once more and she moaned, her hot cheek pressed against his when her head tipped forwards as she panted softly.

“God, you sound fucking perfect,” he grunted, and he was so painfully hard and her panties were so fucking soaked that he knew neither of them wanted to wait anymore. “Want you to keep making those pretty noises for me.”

His hands dipped down enough to slide his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, and he shimmied them down just enough to pull his cock out, but just as he reached for her underwear, she leaned back and went to move.

“Hey,” he gripped her hips and tugged her back where she was. “Where’re you goin’?”

She blinked at him, took a heaving breath. “You want me here?”

Dean chuckled and gave her hips another squeeze. “Kinda missing the point of what we’re doing if you think I don't want you here, babe.”

“No, I-” she took a breath. “Here like this,” she gestured down towards his lap, and Dean just blinked at her until she huffed out and clarified, “I’ve never… done it like this before.”

Dean softened just slightly. He remembered the first time they’d had sex, how nervous she’d been about not being enough for him, about not being able to get him off. She’d ended up being the best sex of his fucking life, and there was nothing he wanted more in that moment then to have her in his lap, coming apart on his cock.

“Aw, doll,” he tipped forwards and kissed her softly, squeezed her hips until she properly settled her weight back down into his lap again. “That’s alright, doesn’t matter if you haven’t done it before.”

She huffed a breath against his lips, cheeks flushed pink, and she looked partly embarrassed and partly turned on. “M’not gonna do it right.” The words were mumbled into his mouth, soft and almost whiney.

“Yeah you are, sweetheart,” he kissed her once more before he leaned back to get a good look at her expression, her pretty face. “I’ll help you.”

She was breathing heavy, and still looked a little nervous, but nodded her head, palms flat against his chest. He’d never get over the sight of her when she got like this — flushed, blissed out, turned on. God, he could just drink her up, savour the way she looked right then, keep it bottled up for whenever he wanted it.

Dean reached down to the apex of her thighs, brushed his fingertips along the damp fabric, and he watched as she shuddered, her eyes shut.

“Fuck doll,” he groaned, rubbed her through the fabric just until she made a little noise and then he hooked his fingers underneath the wet fabric and pulled it to the side, too lazy to take them off of her completely. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. Sit up for me, c’mon,” Dean squeezed her hips until she lifted them, and he held her underwear to the side with one hand, his other pumped his cock a few times before he lined his head up with her wet hole, clenched his jaw.

“That’s it- that’s it-” Dean groaned as she sank herself down onto him, squeezed her hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises until he was completely inside of her, and he felt so much deeper at that position.

She was all heavy breaths and sighs, her fingers clung to his shoulders as she sank herself down in his lap. Her head had tipped forwards and her forehead pressed to his cheek, hot skin to hot skin, her breaths fanned out against his throat. “Dean-”

“I know- fuck,” Dean grunted as he shifted her hips and felt her clench around him. “I know, baby, good girl.”

He gripped her hips and helped her move, and with every drag of his cock against her tight walls, it was blissful. She was panting into his open mouth, hands gripped him tightly, and he could tell that despite her earlier concerns, she felt good.

“How’s that, doll?” The words were mumbled into her ear as he sank her back down onto his cock, and her resulting moan was muffled against the skin of his throat, her fingers gripped onto him tighter.

“Good-” She gasped. “It’s- oh-”

Dean smirked into her hair, grunted as she sank back down on him again, felt the cling of her wet heat around his cock. “It’s what, baby?” He kissed the shell of her ear. “Use your words, c’mon.”

She whimpered at the next drag of his cock. “It’s… feels so good-”

“That’s good, sweetheart,” Dean sacrificed one of the hands on her hips to slide up her back and he tangled his fingers in her hair, gave it a playful tug until she tipped her head back to look at him, and fuck the look on her face. Flushed pink, eyes half-lidded, lips parted in little sighs and gasps that threatened to make him cum there and then. “You look so fuckin’ pretty, you know that?” He lifted his hips and thrusted up into her and she groaned as her nails dug into his shoulders. “So gorgeous-” he grunted. “Makin’ a mess all over me- fuck-”

It was her that initiated the kiss, then, her mouth moved messily and desperate against his until the kiss became wet and lazy and fucking heavenly. His fingers tightened only slightly in her hair, only to keep her angled properly for the kiss, and he kept moving her hips and thrusting up into her, felt as her slickened walls squeezed and clenched his cock as it throbbed with a desire he’d only ever felt for her.

Their mouths were still attached when she came without warning, and he felt more than heard the groan that escaped her and into his mouth, felt as she pulsed around him, and it was just enough to drag his orgasm out of him too.

Dean groaned, let go of her hair to grip her hips and pulled her tight down against him until he was buried to the fucking hilt, and he didn’t let go until he was completely fucking drained.

“Oh god, sweetheart,” he was panting when he finally eased his grip on her hips, and dropped a plethora of wet kisses to her hot cheek before he leaned back to look at her face. “Look at you.”

She was a fucking picture as she sat in his lap, still filled up completely, as she panted and blushed and gave him that fucking smile, the shy smile that wasn’t so fucking shy after what they’d done.

Her eyes dipped down and she took a shuddering breath inwards as she leaned forwards and softly kissed his neck. “Was that… did I do okay?”

“Did you do okay?” Dean chuckled and lifted his hand to cup her jaw, and when he tipped her head back up towards him he leaned forwards and kissed her in a much gentler way than he had before. “That was perfect. You’re a fuckin’ gem, y’know that?”

She just giggled, kissed him again, and wrapped her arms around his neck, their bodies hot against each other.

And then, her soft voice mumbled, far from completely satisfied, “…can I try again?”

[ervotica]

milf!reader fucking coach!patrick because she wants her son to get accepted into his tennis program and they’re old friend who used to fuck in college but she despises him but she’ll do anything for her son👀

warnings; smut, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), cum eating, a smidge of foot stuff if you squint, hate sex, exes (ish) to lovers (ish)

a/n; your honor i need him actually

imagining him wolf-whistling at you when you seek him out on the courts, racket strapped over your shoulder, hand limply holding a basket of tennis balls as you watch him practice his serving, trying and failing not to ogle his entire body through his clothes.

a sweat soaked tank top, slick and transparent. the smell of musk and man and tennis. thick corded thighs dusted with dark hair as he moves fluidly, as though the racket is an extension of himself. a thick bulge in his shorts that, no matter how much you hate him, you want to have your mouth on.

he’s all fire and passion and heat, and you know from experience that trait rings true in all areas of his life.

“so, you’re a milf now,” he drawls, beckoning you closer with a tip of his chin. your mouth is dry, chest so hollow it feels like you’re about to crumble from the inside out.

you roll your eyes, hoping to look more confident than you feel, taking place on the other side of the net.

“and you’re still a prick. your point?”

“why are you here?” he presses, tossing the ball up and catching it with a skilled ease that has your stomach flipping.

“how do i guarantee my son a place in your tennis program?” the words feel heavy on your tongue, struggling not to curl your lips into a sneer at the sight of his smug expression.

“you think i’m a prick but you want me to teach your son?”

“i think you’re a prick but i know you’re good at tennis. and you’re a good teacher. and i want him to be good.” his brow quirks. at least you’re honest.

he discards the tennis ball behind him and crosses the distance between you, long legs coming up to step over the net.

“i can think of a few things.”

that’s how you find yourself at his place, legs slung over his shoulders. it’s wet and dirty, each rock of his hips squelching as he feeds you his cock into your needy cunt inch by inch.

“yeah, know this pussy missed me, baby,” he rasps, pinching at your twitching clit. his throat works around a thick swallow, lips parted in a groan when you clench your cunt round him, shifting your hips upward to allow him to sink further into the wet clutch of you.

“stop talking to my pussy, you freak,” you hiss, quickly silenced as he flattens his thumb over your swollen bud, rolling it in tight circles until you’re creaming round him, wailing with the sheer force of your orgasm

he lifts your ankle, turning his flushed face to mouth at the smooth skin there, huffing hot air against the sole of your foot that has you squirming.

there are some perks to fucking patrick zweig.

he knows every inch of your body, knows what makes you tick and which buttons to press to keep you babbling nonsensical filth beneath him. knows your pussy, knows how to fuck you until you cry.

you’re clinging to his shoulders, almost drawing blood as you dig your knuckles further into that skin, because you know him just as well. know that this gets him going, keeps him rutting into you with that fervour that - despite yourself, despite hating him - you’ve missed so desperately.

because despite hating patrick zweig, no one fucks you like he does.

when he cums it’s in excess, spurt after spurt of it until you’re plugged full and it’s flooding you, dripping out of your spasming hole and gathering over your furled asshole. he gathers some of it with two fingers, feeds it into your eager mouth.

“i’m sure we can work something out about those tennis lessons, sweets.” and he grins, all teeth. the look should have you balking, send you running, but you find yourself drawn to it, clinging to the familiarity of him.

you’re caught in his honey trap once again, and he has no plans of letting you get away this time.

because you both know, no matter how much you claim to hate him, he’s the best sex you’ve ever had.

and he’s sure he can make you love him. just with a little time.

[sadhours]

quit acting like a puppy • part one

BILLY HARGROVE x F!READER

masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, dirty talk, rough sex, spitting, oral (m & f receiving), slapping, name calling, p in v, unprotected, friends with benefits, enemies (?) to lovers, pining

summary: you hook up with Billy and it’s great but you’re not looking for anything serious. but he can’t get enough of you.

Your fingertips move over his abs, drunken eyes focused on the way they flex and as they glance up, you catch a wicked smirk and darkened blue eyes staring back at you.

“C’mon, babe,” he purrs, “go ahead and get your fill before I keep them hands busy.”

In your intoxicated state, his words work but if you were just a smidge more sober, you’d cringe at them. You feel down his hip bones, down where his muscles point down to the thing in his pants he was bragging about back at the bar, the reason you’re even at his apartment in the first place. Sure the rest of him is gorgeous, but he talked a big game about his uh, endowment.

You drop to your knees, rolling your eyes at his comment before licking at the skin right above the waistband of his jeans. He loses a bit of composure from it and the way you scratch manicured nails down the sides of him. Makes a pretty sound that inflates your ego and has you sucking bruises against his golden skin. He shaved recently, the hairs barely there and you think it makes him more sensitive. Billy cards his fingers through your hair, tugs at the roots and chuckles out a breathy, “Guess your tongue works, too.”

“Oh, my tongue works. You’ll see,” you tell him confidently, licking a broad stroke up his abs as you unbutton his Levi’s and tug them down around his ankles.

You move down to mouth his hard on over his briefs and Billy groans. You glance up to catch his head tilting back with pleasure and you’ve barely even started, it makes you smirk against him. Focusing on the head, your hand moves to cup his balls and you’re quick at work making the fabric of his briefs soaked where his tip is. Sucking and licking. When you squeeze Billy’s balls, he lets out a louder noise and his hips jerk forward as he pulls on your hair. You can taste the saltiness of his precum seeping through the material and you hum happily against him. Billy attempts to shove your face against his crotch harder but you push on his thighs, pulling away from him.

“Sit,” you tell him, nodding to his bed, “Take them off.”

As Billy steps back, he pushes his briefs down to his ankles and kicks them off along with his jeans. Sits on the bed, palms on the sheets and spreads his legs for you. It’s easy to scoot between his feet, smoothing your hands up his thighs and scratching down them as you admire his cock and balls. He’s thick, mushroom tip shaped perfectly and it’s pink, leaking out the slit and dripping down the shaft. His balls are heavy but tight, sit pretty on the sheets and you think you’ll start with them. A quick glance up to make sure his eyes are on you before you lean down and graze your lips against his sack, feeling the weight of his cock against your face.

“Christ,” he breathes out, watching you intently, “you’re a fucking nymph, aren’t ya?”

You reply by licking at his balls, looking up at him with wide eyes. Nose nudging his shaft with your motions. The dude has stars in his eyes. You’ve had plenty of experience in this department but you’re determined to impress him because he might be the hottest one on the roster. You take the time to admire him, sculpted muscles corded in his arms and chest that lead up to a strong neck and jaw, surrounded by an overgrown curly blonde mullet. He’s got stubble but it’s thicker above his soft, pink tinted lips. Sharp cupids bow to match his angular cheekbones. Soft and adorable button nose that leads up to strong brows. Matched with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen and some seriously luscious and curly dark eyelashes. The guys a natural blonde, as his pubes prove but his brows and lashes are dark. Like God was looking out for him.

“You’re fucking hot,” you admit as you pull away from his balls and Billy scoffs, all condescending but it’s cut short when you grab hold of his cock, tight at the base of him as you blink up at him. “But you know that. I don’t need to tell you.”

“You can tell me,” he gasps, abs flexing from the pleasure shooting up his body. “I like hearing it from a pretty girl like you.”

You pout, tilting your head as you raise up on your knees. “Just pretty?” You gather all the spit in your mouth you can and let it fall from your lips onto his tip, watching as it drips down the edge of his tip, the side of his shaft and to your fist wrapped around him.

“Hot, fucking— so hot,” he gasps, eyebrows furrowing, “Sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen.”

You giggle, “That’s more like it!” You stick your tongue out and slap the head of his cock against it, keep your eyes locked on his as you lick the most sensitive bit like an ice cream cone. He looks submissive in this moment but everything leading up to this tells you that’s out of place for him. He’s the one in control during moments like this. But you can’t have that. His lips are parted as he stares down at you, eyes all glassy. He doesn’t whine but he breathes heavy, squeezes the sheets in his fists as his muscles tighten. He’s trying not to thrust up at your face. Like a good boy. And you haven’t even told him.

Wrapping your lips around the tip, you sink down slowly. As slow as you can, taking breaks to circle him with your tongue and you haven’t moved your fingers yet, they’re still firmly holding on to the base of him. As you watch him, his eyes roll back before his lids flutter shut. There’s a goal here. Make this beautiful man fall apart. You think you have a talent. Once you get him as deep as you can, nose hitting the curly blonde hair, you exhale out of your nose and focus on not gagging. He’s deep though, poking the back of your throat and it’s not exactly comfortable but the sound Billy illicites makes it all worth it. Voice wrecked with the loud moan that pours from him. His thighs tense under your palm. You pull up, but not off entirely, stopping when just the tip is in and you suck, hard. Sinking back down and repeating the motion a couple of times. Billy’s large hands fly into your hair, determined to set the pace but you have other plans. If he doesn’t push your head down, you suck him harder and start stroking whatever isn’t in your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He spits out, “Wait— Jesus, slow down.” His voice is breathy and spent, “Don’t wanna cum yet.”

You pull off with a loud pop, string of saliva still connecting your lips to his cock, “Isn’t that the point of this?”

“Gotta feel your pussy before I cum,” he chokes out. “But, holy fuck, you’re good at that.”

“Thanks,” you grin, like he complimented you on a softball pitch and not your dick sucking.

You stand then, still between his feet as you begin to pull your dress up and over your head. Billy’s eyes scan your body and he still has this like, starstruck look on his face. It’s flattering, sure but you’re in your head. The guy is way too attractive to look at you like that. Even if you almost made him cum in record time with your mouth.

He sits up and gets his hands on your hips, pulls you closer and gets his mouth on your tits. Licks at the hardened buds, sucks one and moves his hand to squeeze the other breast. It feels good, his mouth is warm and determined and you grab onto his shoulders. Let him mouth at you for a bit, moaning as you look down to watch him.

“That feels really good,” you tell him, voice heightened with arousal.

“Yeah?” He asks around your nipple, moving his hand down to cup your heat over your thong. Rubs against your cunt with firm and rough fingers. Makes you gasp and lean your hips forward into the touch.

“Yeah,” you whine.

Billy smirks, “Sucking my cock made you so wet. Can feel how soaked you are.”

Damnit. The cocky bastard is back but it feels too good to stop him. Your hands lace through his curls, mouth agape as you look down at him. Watch as he licks and sucks on your chest while his fingers easily find your clit and rub circles against the bundle of nerves over the sticky material of your lace underwear. Billy has thick fingers. You wanna feel them without the underwear.

“Take them off, wanna feel you,” you whisper.

He pulls back with a smile, pushes you a step back and leans down. Bites on the strap of your underwear and drags it down with his teeth. It’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen. He uses his hands to help get them the rest of the way off and then slides them up to grab handfuls of your ass, squeezing the flesh and biting the skin of your hipbone. You whimper, staring down at him with desire. He spanks you, rough and abrupt.

“Need you to sit on my face, pretty girl,” he tells you, licks against your hipbone before spanking you one time and then lays back, pulling you with him. You grab hold of his jaw once you’re straddling him, feeling his shaft against your folds and you crash your lips into his. Billy kisses filthy. All sloppy. Tongue invading your mouth, dragging against your teeth, tongue and roof of your mouth. His hands easily find your ass again, kneading at the fat as he rolls his hips up. His cock catches against your clit and you moan into his mouth.

“I meant it,” he mumbles against your lips, “Gotta taste you. C’mon, sit that pretty pussy on my face.”

You don’t hesitate, kissing him one more time before moving up. Once your pussy is hovering his mouth, he grabs the tops of your thighs and pulls you down on him. Wet, hot mouth meeting your cunt. He moans into it and then licks through your folds. Prods his tongue at your hole and moves it back up. You gasp, hands flat on the mattress to keep yourself upright. His tongue meets your clit, flat and broad and your hips roll on their volition. And before you know it, you’re riding Billy’s face. Setting the pace, grinding down on his tongue as you focus on finding your climax. Using his mouth completely. His stubble causes some friction but you like it, humping against Billy’s face as you’re totally lost in chasing your orgasm. It’s almost pathetic how quickly you’re cumming.

Coating his face in your juices as you cry out, body jerking as the orgasm crashes through you.

“Fuuuuck!”

Billy doesn’t let up, continues lapping at your sensitive cunt as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs. Moans with you as you climax. Gives you a minute before he’s rolling over, pushing you on your back and slapping your pussy. Looks at you with these frenzied eyes and easily slips two fingers inside of your cunt. You cry out, overstimulated but ready to go again as he pumps his fingers in and out of your soaking hole. Your back arches, vision blurry as your eyes prick from tears. It’s almost too much, almost.

“Such a good girl,” he coos from above you, lips and chin shiny from your juices. Looks even prettier like that.

“Fuck,” you curse, eyes crossing slightly as he fucks you deep and hard with his thick digits. Then he grabs your jaw with his free hand, forcing your mouth open as he looms over you. Has this wicked, borderline unhinged look which shouldn’t turn you on like it does. And then the fucker spits in your mouth before licking against your tongue and kissing you as filthy as humanly possible. Your eyes roll back, lids fluttering shut as you let him have control. Taking the brutal thrusts of his fingers and the intrusion of his tongue that tastes like your pussy,

Is Billy the first man to make you cum before he does? Yeah, but you’re not keen on focusing on that right now because the way it fills your stomach with butterflies is making you a bit sick.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he babbles out as he curls his fingers up, “Look like a fucking dream, taking my fingers like a good little slut.”

Motherfuckers unlocked a kink and you’re too far gone to hide it. Crying out and bucking your hips up at him, whimpering pathetically as you nod.

“Oh,” he smirks, voice dark, “You like being called a slut, don’t you? S’that get you going? ‘Cause you know it’s true. Know that you’re a dirty fucking slut, don’t ya?”

“Yes,” you pant, legs shaking as he drills his fingers in and out of your obscenely dripping cunt.

“Say it,” he growls, face so close to yours. “Tell me you’re a dirty slut.”

“I’m a dirty slut,” you gasp, “Fuck me like the fucking whore I am, Billy.”

He bites his lip as he smirks, gripping your face before spitting on it. Barely any of it lands in your mouth and he smooths his hand over your face, smearing your makeup with it before he slaps you. “Want me to show you what a desperate, dirty whore you are?”

“Please,” you beg, “Please, pretty please!”

He pulls his fingers from you abruptly, you feel empty so you whimper and wiggle your hips. He smacks hard against your pussy, then spits down on it and grips his cock, spreads the saliva as he drags his tip through your folds. Slaps the tip against your clit, making your body jerk as your back arches and you squeal.

“Think such a desperate slut deserves my cock?” he pouts, shaking the head of his cock against your clit which sends the most incredible shockwaves through your body.

“Yes, yes,” you pant, “I need it. I’m such a slut, I need it, need your cock.”

He laughs, a soft exhale that’s cruel but he’s looking down at you fondly. Even strokes your cheekbone with his thumb, drags it down to the corner of your lips and you move to lick his fingertip. Suck it into your mouth and look at him desperately. He groans softly, the tip of his cock slipping down to rub circles against your entrance. You hum needy around his thumb, hands moving up to grab hold of his wrist as you wiggle your hips, trying to maneuver his cock inside you.

“You’re—- you’re something else, babygirl,” he says and his voice is deep and so sexy. “Think you’ve earned it,” he breathes out and slips inside you, eyelids fluttering shut as he feels your cunt suck his cock in. You inhale sharply with his thumb still pressed to your tongue. He sheathes deeper inside you, left hand still extended so you can suck on his thumb while his right grips your hip tightly. The head of his cock brushes against that sweet spongy spot deep inside you so tenderly, has your eyes cross before they roll back and you grip tighter on his wrist as you moan around his thumb.

Hookups aren’t like this. You know that. You’re usually bent over, so they aren’t looking at your face. You’re not typically drooling around their thumb while they fuck you missionary. This is good sex. Which you’ve had but not… not this good. Never so intense and intimate. You get that uncomfortable feeling in your tummy again until Billy reels his hips back and snaps forward harshly, deteriorating every thought in your head. He fucks you dumb, thrusts quick and deep. Spilling out moans and repeatedly telling you what a slut you are. Not much else to think about when you’re being fucked into oblivion.

You blink your eyes open, vision blurry for a beat before you’re met with the prettiest sight. Billy’s sweating, beads forming at his hairline and you move to feel down his back, sweat forming there too and it’s all gross and sticky and so fucking sexy. You gasp, lips parting but he doesn’t pull his thumb away. It’s still pressed to your tongue and he punches little, repetitive uh, uh, uh’s from you. The sound of your skin meeting, harsh slaps, fills the room. His cock is so thick, stretching your hole deliciously, and so long, massaging against your g-spot with every stroke. You feel ten times drunker and you know it’s from his cock, and not the shots shared at the bar. And you feel fucking dumb too.

“S’a good little slut for me,” he growls, eyes locked on your face which is kind of overwhelming but incredibly hot, “taking my cock so good. You my little princess, huh?”

That’s a new one, feels better than slut which surprises you. Has tears stinging at your eyes, making your mascara bleed as they roll down your cheeks. Billy takes his thumb out of your mouth to wipe them away, leans down to kiss you. Softer this time. Tongue just barely swiping across your lower lip. You cling to him, back arching as he thrusts particularly deep.

“Feel so good,” he keeps talking, lips dragging against your wet cheek. “So pretty for me.”

“B-Billy…” you stutter as you wrap your legs around your waist, which somehow has him even deeper inside you.

“Yeah,” he coos, brushing his nose against your cheekbone, “Feel nice? Can feel me so deep inside you, princess?”

“Billy,” you’re fucking stupid. All you can say is his name. And you’re not saying it. You’re whining it. “Billy… Billy… Billy…”

He hums, kisses your cheek, holds you steady as he drills into you, “I know.” God, this is so intimate. There’s a white, hot pleasure spreading over your nerves. Brings you to even more tears. It’d make you so sick if you weren’t so elated in euphoria. If this were any other hookup, you’d be panicked about the lack of condom. But you’re aching for Billy to cum inside you. Wanna feel it fill you up. Want to make him feel so good he cums before he has time to pull out. This has you tightening your legs around his waist. Heel digging into his ass as you arch your back.

The second climax hits you like a tidal wave. It’s unexpected, you don’t even realize you were close as it washes over you. You cry out his name, tears streaming down your cheeks as you writhe against him. Scratching down his back. Clinging to him, pulling him impossibly closer as your vision goes completely white. He smells good. It’s what you notice as you come back to reality, faces squished together at the cheeks and your nose is pressed up against his damp curls. Makes your orgasm drag out as you inhale deeply, shuddering a breath out as you gasp out sobs. It’s foreign to you. Crying from an orgasm but Billy doesn’t seem alarmed. Grabs hold your face and kisses you harshly as he thrusts quicker and deeper until his hips still and he spills his load against your fluttering walls. Groaning your name against your lips.

—

Turns out, the cocky bastard is a clingy one. As you were sneaking out the morning after, he woke up. Rolled over and sat up, rubbed his pretty eyes and blinked at you, “Ya gonna leave before breakfast?”

So you’d stayed. Made small talk. Told him where you work.

Three weeks later, there’s flowers being delivered to your office… for you. They’re pretty. Tropical flowers like you mentioned you liked. Your coworkers ask a million questions. While you remember the sex as being the best you’ve ever had, you’re not really looking for a boyfriend. The past handful of them never worked out, so why would Billy be any different. You’d been panicked for two weeks after the hook up because he came inside and you were praying that your period came early. And it came late. By two days which had you in a fucking frenzy. So you were relieved when it came but then came the flowers. You stared at them angrily as you typed away memos for your boss. You’re made that they made you blush. When you read the handwritten card, you wanted to puke.

Had the best night of my life with you. Would like a chance to properly woo you.

And his phone number.

You refused to call. You wouldn’t. A boyfriend wasn’t part of the plan. Dating casually wasn’t a part of your plan. Regardless of how incredible the sex was.

Boyfriends. Love. The whole thing made you bitter. There’s no way it’s happening.

A week passes, the flowers die and you throw them away. Then you’re finishing up a memo your boss asked you to type when there’s a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you call, not taking your eyes away from the typewriter.

“Hot shot, huh?” His voice has you jerking your head up and damnit, he looks handsome.

Tight Levi’s, motorcycle boots and a red button up, but only the last two buttons are done up. Tucked into his jeans. His hair is luscious. Blonde curls framing his face and a dangly earring in his ear. His skin just as golden as you remember, not that you’re trying to.

“Can I help you?” you can’t hide the disdain in your voice.

“Ouch,” he presses his hand to his bare chest, “That any way to treat a man who made you cum so hard you cried?”

Your eyes widen as you look at the door, “Keep your voice down. The women in this office have big ears and even bigger mouths. Don’t need anyone knowing the gritty details of my sex life.”

Billy kicks the door shut with his foot and then leans against it, “I was hoping I could take you out to lunch.”

“You were dreaming,” you smile at him, dripping in condescension.

“Sure was. What do ya say?” He steps closer to your desk, hand on his belt.

You sigh, lean back against your chair as you look at him, “You sent me flowers with your number, if I was interested, I would’ve called.”

Billy purses his lips and flattens his palms against your desk, leaning down as he says, “Thought maybe you’d be intimidated, so here I am, making the uh, third move.”

You blink at him in disbelief, “Don’t know how to take a hint, do ya?”

“I don’t need to bring up that you cried again, do I?”

“You just did.”

“Come to lunch with me,” he shrugs, “If you’re not feeling it afterwards, I’ll leave you alone.”

You chew on your lip as you think about it. It is a free lunch. And you skipped breakfast so you’re kind of starving. And okay, yeah, Billy looks good. He’s handsome but he’s more annoying than he is pretty.

“Fine. I’m hungry,” you sigh, “But I have to finish this memo, first.”

You go back to typing, trying to ignore the guy's eyes on you. You glance up to glare at him and he just chews his gum obnoxiously and smirks. “You’re insufferable,” you tell him.

He grins, eyes crinkling with it, “Thanks, toots. You are so fine in this uh, get up. Very professional yet very seductive.”

You sigh exaggeratedly, finishing the end of the memo before pulling the paper out of the typewriter. You grab your purse and usher his out the door, dropping by the front desk to hand the receptionist the memo.

“I’m going to lunch. Mr. Harrington wants this memo forwarded to the whole staff,” you tell her and ignore the way she eyes Billy up and down.

“Will do,” she smiles, “Have a fun lunch.”

“I won’t,” you reply with a sarcastic smile and head out the front doors, Billy close on your feet.

“Mr. Harrington?” He questions as he follows you to the parking lot, “Like Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah, his dads my boss,” you explain, “Where are you taking me to lunch?”

“Enzo’s?”

“You can afford that?” You tease as you stop in your tracks, tilting your head at him.

“Uh, yeah,” he looks shocked by that, hands shoving in his pockets, “I’m an electrician. Well, I do construction in general but right now, just an electrician.”

“I didn’t ask,” you roll your eyes as you walk to his annoyingly pretty car. A sports car fits him, though.

He rolls his eyes but opens the passenger door for you. You sink in and notice his car smells like cigarettes. He smokes? As he slides into the drivers side, he pulls a pack of Marlboros from his shirt pocket and lights one up. And a cigarette sounds good right now so you make grabby hands and he hands it over before lighting another.

“You keep proving to be the woman of my dreams,” he says with dreamy eyes and you roll yours.

“Take me to lunch, loser.”

[spitdrunken]

HIAHA I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE MR SCARLETELLA CAN YOU WRITE MORE. so odd and unsettling and obscene m just giggling with delight

HIIII thank you so much for the high praise <3 this has kind of a different vibe from the last one but plays with similar-esque concepts!!!! this is 'weird and obscene' LMAO

Notes: Suggestive, mild body horror, bolded = dialogue in the Other World's language.

==========================

How do you touch a man without a physical form? Or, you suppose, 'man' isn't quite the correct term. 'Apparition' would perhaps best describe him. Though he can reach out to you and make you feel the illusion of touch, you can't actually make contact with him. Your hand passes through him as if he were nothing but air.

You don't think he minds. It's always a bit hard to tell, with him. Mr. Scarletella ususally just stares you down with a dead look, communication relatively limited. But you would like to touch him! So you experiment a little, an action for which no mutually intelligible word exists. Still, he doesn't move as you poke and prod at different parts of his body, coming up short every single time.

You crouch down before poking at his ankle, just in case. When you look up, your heart stops for just a moment. Mr. Scarletella's neck is snapped back, folded in on itself in order to observe you. Vacant-seeming eyes are trained on your every movement. The sight makes you feel squeamish. "God... Not do," you tell him. "Head look hurt. Not funny." There's no other way you can think of to put it. You get up and stick your hand down, waving your hand in the other direction at the side of his head. He seems to understands what you mean, as his skull snaps back in its usual direction. You circle around him. "Sorry. Not want upset you." He says, although you know he'll never really listen or learn, not when it comes to these things. "Me like you. You like me." As if you'd ever forget. You beckon him. Rather than simply leaning down, his form flickers, distorting, before reappearing in the desired position. There's just one place you haven't touched yet. Once again, you extend your hand, the tips of your fingers brushing against the top of his umbrella. The surface is smooth to the touch and wets your skin, accompanied by a small burst of static ringing in your ears. It takes a moment for the significance to register. "Oh! I can touch your umbrella!" You say, forgetting the Other World's language in excitement over your discovery. Even though it's relatively small. You can't touch Mr. Scarletella himself, but the umbrella appears to be 'realer' than the rest of him. ...Actually, maybe the umbrella is a part of his body? He's not human, after all. He doesn't have to exist according to your logic. Your brow furrows. The puzzle pieces of language move in your mind, until they're slotted together semi-coherently. You point at his arm. "Arm you." Then, you do the same for his leg. "Leg you." You wave your arm up and down. "Body you." Finally, you lift your hand in the direction of the umbrella. "Object you? Me can touch object. Touch you?" Mr. Scarletella's smile widens. It reveals a little bit of the void that stretches on behind his lips. "I see. Correct. Object me. Object is..." After which he lowers his umbrella and says a word you haven't heard before. You try to repeat it, and he says it once again, pointing the umbrella in your direction. "Touch umbrella. I want."

It's definitely... Weird. It's genuinely like touching an umbrella. Cold and smooth and slightly wet. But Mr. Scarletella wanted you to do it, and you're kind of intrigued yourself, so you do it. Because there's clearly something happening. As you trace your fingers over the outer canopy, making sure to at least touch every panel a little bit, his visible form starts to flicker and fade. When you apply a bit more pressure, move a little faster, parts of him start to distort and change colour. His arm appears a little dislodged from his shoulder, static rising in the background.

When you pinch one of the metal tips in between your fingers and rub it, he lets out a laugh that is far more high-pitched than you would've expected it to sound like. Clearly, there's some kind of link between the umbrella and the rest of himself. Though you can't envision what it must be like, he's feeling something. Your hand pauses. In the blink of an eye, Mr. Scarletella has materialised even closer to you, nose close enough to touch yours, if it could. The inky darkness of his pupils makes up most of what you can see.

"Me like. Like like like like." He sounds breathy despite not breathing. "Touch more. Again. Me want you."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Zayne chasing after your hand after you brush your finger against his bottom lip, acting as though he’s a animal in heat or just extremely starved for your touch is enough for your knees to weaken.

At first it was a silly little joke, nothing serious as you’d first run your finger gently across his bottom lip, only to watch as his breath hitches and his eyes dilate as he’s acting in a way that made you wonder if you had taken the joke too far. You’re then forced watch as his followed after your hand as though it were a pesky fly, clasping your wrist in his hold as he brought your hand back to his face, rubbing his cheek against your palm as hot breathy whimpers leave his succulent lips.

It shouldn’t have drawn an reaction out of you but it did when you felt yourself heat up as Zayne peppered small kisses from the tips of your fingers, down to your palm to nibble on it, and then finally all the way down to your pulse point on your wrist as he made sure to give you copious amount of eye contact as he softly kissed it; leaving you with your heart in your throat and a little flustered to say the least.

The reactions you drew from him after a innocent touch was enough for you to always capitalise on the moments where you found yourself sitting in his lap, and trace his bottom lip with your finger ever so slightly, that it causes him to get desperate for more of your touch. A simple touch was enough to send this beautiful man beneath you into a hysterical state where he’s practically begging you to touch him again with his pleading eyes.

To have the power over a man like you did over Zayne was something many would kill to have, but you couldn’t hope but experiment with this and try touching his chest with the same amount of pressure you did to his bottom lip; featherlight and almost nonexistent.

Same result as it is revealed as Zayne’s breathing becomes laboured and he’s yearning after your touch once more as he chases your hand, holding it close to his chest so that you could feel his erratic heart rate and his breathing beneath your palm, showing you how unfair and cruel the state your leaving him in to deal with.

‘You like it don’t you?’ You asked one day as you found yourself once again sat upon his lap, fingers tracing his bottom lip and watching his eyes dilate. ‘Such a puppy.’ You murmured under your breath, thinking Zayne couldn’t hear you, but soon you found yourself on your back and looking up at the ceiling as Zayne hovered over you with a particular look within his beautiful eyes.

‘Such a puppy you say.’ Zayne began as he leaned in close, his hands restraining your wrists with effortless ease. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have tempted me so much then we wouldn’t be in such a…compromising predicament, but since your attention towards the movie has wavered,’ Zayne then moves his head so that it was level with your ear, his hot breath fanning the side of your face and neck as you found yourself being the one with an elevated heart rate and laboured breathing. ‘ it is coincidental that my attention has wavered from the movie as well and onto something more captivating, I hope that me changing my mind is okay.’ He says with a voice as smooth as silk yet soft and tender but his eyes told a completely different story.

‘It’s more than okay.’ You replied with equal softness, already knowing how this night was going to end, but you had no regrets even when you awake the neck day covered in love bites of varying sizes.

[revelboo]

So......

With the new bots being added wat kinks do you think they have?

Also you turned me into a Megs fan. I came for the Soundwave and have been hit with the Megatron hots. And the whirl.

Waking up to more fics is great!! But don't forget to look after yourself

More Scenarios

Various Transformers x Reader

18+ content 🌶️

Knockout

• “Just to make sure you keep your grubby little paws to yourself,” he growls as you wriggle against the soft material he’s bound your wrists with. Huffing at him as his servos lift your hips with casual strength and you feel his spike slide against you. “Can’t smudge the paint.” Back arching as that spike slowly stretches you, you moan. “Do you know how wrong this is? How illicit?” Gripping your hips, he thrusts against you, optics narrowing as his attention dips to where your bodies are joined. Knowing he loves it. Loves that this is taboo and scandalous as much as he loves to complain. Toes curling, you whimper.

• “It’s obscene,” you moan, that breathy sound stringing him tight. Part of him hates how addicted to the feel of your body he is. To watching his spike shiny with your need sliding into your wet heat, the way your grip him. Hips snapping against yours, just to hear that wet sound. To make you whimper and squirm, so responsive to him. So vocal.

Shockwave and Soundwave

• Tension thrumming through Shockwave as his head tips to watch you squirm against Soundwave, head thrown back against the communication’s officer as you come apart. Hears the other mech murmur against you, shuddering slightly as he releases, servos tracing the delicate line of your throat with one hand, the other sliding from your hip to your lower belly. Watching Soundwave’s hands slide to grip your hips and help you out of his lap. Your warm smile faltering some when you come to him.

• Nerves thrumming as Shockwave’s head tilts to study you, there’s always the uncomfortable feeling that you’re an experiment to him, not a person. Soundwave you trust to an extent, he seems to care about you despite how distant he can be sometimes, but Shockwave? This one makes you shiver and not in a good way. When he just stares, you give up and drop to your knees between his spread thighs. Comforted by the fact that Soundwave is right there watching as you grip his spike and slide your mouth along Shockwave’s length and he makes that low, rumbling snarl, but doesn’t move. Doesn’t try to touch you, just trembles. Because this has become normal. Him watching, but rarely touching.

• That warm mouth of yours slides against his spike, tongue stroking over the head. Antenna flicking back, he watches Soundwave kneel behind you. Unable to move as you make a hitching sound of pleasure when Soundwave mounts you again. Mouth working his spike he cautiously reaches out a hand, processor stuttering when that disjointed feeling of wrongness slams through him, seeing the cannon at the end of his arm when he’d been sure it should be a hand. Shaking as your eyes flick up at him in worry, he runs the smooth metal muzzle of the cannon over your cheek. It should be a hand, shouldn’t it? He’s not sure. Antenna flicking as Soundwave rumbles at you, hips rocking as he breeds you, Shockwave focuses on that. That low, crooning purr and the feel of your mouth on his spike. Letting those sensations ground him in the present.

Rodimus

• Curled against your back, he slides a palm down your arm and twines his servos with your fingers. Hears the sleepy sound you make when he tugs your hand down your body and spears a servo inside you, rocking your knuckles against yourself. Feels you squirm against his hold. “Not even wake, yet,” you protest, voice hitching adorably as he rocks his hips against your butt, teasing his spike against you.

• Leg sliding in the blankets as he releases your hand to grip your thigh with his wet servos and then he’s driving inside you with a growl. Rolling you to pin on your belly as his spike slides deep, thrusting urgently. Rushing for that finish line with no patience at all. Laying your cheek on your outstretched arm, you look back at him, his optics so bright as he ruts against you, growling in a broken mix of English and Cybertronian. “With my sparklings…. Frag, so tight… mine…” Sparklings. He’s said that before while inside you. More than once and you never remember to ask what that means, but as he ruts against you, nothing else is important aside from the feel of that thick spike driving deep over and over.

Whirl

• Leg kicking out slightly as he bends you over the edge of the surface he’d lifted you onto, you shiver as one of his pincers slides against you, hooking around one of your thighs and spreading you open for him. Feel his spike slide against your inner thigh as he tries to line up with you, refusing to let you just roll onto your back and help him. “So wet,” he growls, the outer curve of his pincer sliding against you. “Be loud.” Because you’re in Ultra Magnus’s office. How many times has he fucked you across the poor guy’s desk? You’re almost positive he wants Magnus to walk in on the two of you going at it.

• “Fuck me already.” Impatient and needy, your tone has an angry edge that makes him shudder with delight. Shifting behind you until the head of his spike finds you, he drives deep, thrusting urgently. Figuring out how to mount you with his unique anatomy had been fun. His tit guns as you refer to them in the way in most positions. This way, though? He can rut against you, pincers grabbing onto the edge of the surface he has you on, giving him extra leverage. With the added thrill of possibly getting caught fragging you on Magnus’s precious, oversized datapad of rules.

Tarn

• Big servos scraping against the berth under him, a rough snarl escapes him as his hips buck against you. Big frame draped over your back, you’re tempted to risk his temper to try and remove the stupid blindfold. Especially when you feel his lips brush against you, sliding up behind your ear. Wanting to see his face, but knowing he’s weird about it. Denta grazing your ear lobe, he shifts behind you, his warmth leaving your back before placing a palm between your shoulder blades to push you down.

• So obedient as you lower your upper body, hips up and his hands slide to grip your hips as he moves against you, spike stroking deep. You feel so much tighter this way, gripping his spike as he stares down at you. Sees your blindfolded head turn to lay on your arm, lips parting. Making those little, ragged sounds that string him tight. Movements growing rougher when you push back against him, crying out. Fisting his spike as he keeps bucking, drawing it out as his servos tighten on you. Snarling as he releases inside you, palm surfing up your skin while you tremble under him. “Don’t,” he growls in warning when you try to touch the blindfold. Feels you tense under him, but you don’t argue, turning your face away. Can feel the disquiet in his spark as he slowly rocks himself against you, reluctant to leave the wet heat of you. Why does it matter so much to you? No one sees his face, he tries his best not to see it himself. Venting softly, he braces a hand near your head and curls his frame over you.

Constructicons

• Crying out, head tossed back against Mixmaster, your thighs tremble. Six sets of hands gripping you, keeping you suspended between them as, which one is it now? Scrapper ruts against you. There’s a mouth sliding warm against your hip, a glossa sliding over your belly. Another mouth finds yours as you arch and buck in their grip. Hearing them murmur to you as Scrapper’s spike strokes deep, toes curling as he drives you to that peak again, your brain too muddled to be sure, but you think they’ve started a second round. That Scrapper had already fucked you. “I-I can’t, please.”

• “We’ve got you,” Mixmaster says. Laughing softly as you writhe against them with a breathy cry, arching like you’re trying to escape, and he rumbles at you, hands curled around you under your arms as you toss your head back against him, soft hair sliding against his plating. “Take good care of you,” Bonecrusher growls, his hands under your hip as he bends forward over you. “Such a good little mate,” Hook adds as you buck in their hold, crying out as you milk Scrapper’s spike.

Drift

• “Slow down,” he growls, shuddering and hips lifting slightly as you bounce on his spike. “Not going anywhere.” Worry about you overexerting yourself mingling with his fear of losing control. Of slipping again, rolling you under him and taking you hard and fast. Hates how rough he’d been with you, even though you’d insisted you liked it. Servos stroking your hips as he watches you ride him, those lovely eyes meeting his optics.

• “Not made of glass,” you gasp, rolling your hips as you chase that high. Feeling his palms stroking over you, touch so gentle. Because you’re still not well, but you’re not an invalid either. You want this, want him. And he’s holding back. Always keeping himself in control, but when he slips? When he takes you with that urgent, edge? Fucking you like he might die if he’s not inside you, that had been electric. Made you feel alive in a way you desperately need.

These nerds…

[anantaru]

cunt destroyer wrio 👹

cw. mean & dom wrio, petnames used: baby, doll fem! reader

with his lips parted, jaw slacked, wriothesley's eyes glimmer down on your juddering legs holding on to his hips for their dear life.

how absolute pretty of you to give him such desperate signs that you were so close to your climax— yet his utmost favorite must be your perfectly arched back that made it almost too smooth to fuck you in that precise way.

slow and steady, with his thrusts emphasizing on the slow.

he grips at your chin, his eyes barred on your dizzy expression as he lifts it to make you look up at him with a whimper, "you sure you can last as long as you claimed you would?" wriothesley raises a curious brow before smothering over your giddy thighs with his palm, practically forcing the air out of your lungs.

"because it doesn't look like it, doll," he sneaks out a grumble as he begins to move again— although feel it deeply now, concentrate on how agonizingly slow he slid his cock out of your warmth before greedily grinding it all the way in, easy, again— slow, unhurriedly rubbing over your flaring walls.

"wriothesley, p-please don't tease me now," you mewl, "just a little faster," before taking a moment to swallow the growing lump in your throat as you moan at yet another sizzling thrust— fuck, you're shaking, hot and smoldering at each time he makes you take his dick.

because you can feel it all, his swollen tip breaching through your hole or his lengthy veins pulsating over the flickering skin.

simply all of it. you can feel him more intensely now.

your eyes flicker to your lower region to watch wriothesley on how he's doing it, how on earth he could manage to turn you into this babbling, drooling mess of a person with his slow thrusts. how he's nonchalantly guiding his cock in and out of your hole until you're huffing out hasty breaths of his name, his hips moving lightly as he rests his body weight on top of you.

"hah, please don't tease me now," wriothesley mocks you as he laughs breathily, his dripping erection capturing inches after inches of your walls as you split and part just perfectly to his size. he was so warm inside of you that it rattled your body with goosebumps the more you squeezed and milked him.

you could taste the curves of his length that paraded themselves with one thick, massive vein, the raw feeling of it making you stammer over your precious, cute sobs.

"hey," wriothesley squeezes your thighs, "keep looking at me, doll," he adds and rests his forehead against yours, all the while driving into you with such ravenous slowness that made you experience sharp twitches all across your body, "just don't take your eyes off me," he rasps with one side of his lips pulled up, revealing his white canines.

moan after moan, you fold until those sweet, innocent thrusts that genuinely cracked you apart— and with your body trembling from head to toe, wriothesley suppresses a sudden, rasping groan when you press your heels into his back to have him deeper in you.

just something that would make him snap out of this game.

the duke chuckles, crowding you thickly so you'd be full of his shaft, "don't worry, okay?" he notices your face growing hot as he puts a sickly sweet kiss on the tip of your nose, "i'll take care of you baby, fuck— just trust me, yeah?"

"it will all be worth it in the end."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[callsign-datura]

141+ konigs reactions to saying "it wont fit"?

Pairing: 141 + Konig x Reader A/N: The boys' reaction to precious little reader saying that they won't fit.

"It won't fit." You whimpered, shifting underneath Ghost as your gaze focused on his cock. Long, thick, wide; too wide for you. He looked like he'd fucking split you in half, and to be honest, you weren't ready for that pain. He pulled back from leaning over you and his hands moved up to your breasts, kneading gently as your words registered in his head. His gaze flickered up to meet yours. He cleared his throat and sat back, the hand resting on your thigh sliding up to the top of it, his thumb grazing over your slit. He thought you were prepped enough, but you knew your body better than he did, and as much as he wanted to keep thinking he'd already learned your body entirely, what you were ready for was more important. "Tha's alright, sweetheart." He murmured, leaning back forward and placing a gentle kiss against your forehead as he circled the tip of his middle finger over your fluttering hole, his eyes glinting with amusement as you whimpered at the contact. He pushed his middle finger into you and you gasped. "Guess I'll have to train you 'fore you can take it, mmm?"

"It won't fit," you huffed, your eyes downcast at Price's cock as it rested against your lower stomach, twitching and neglected, the tip resting just below your belly button. He couldn't help but chuckle a little bit. He was sitting in his desk chair and you were straddling him, and he saw the way your expression shifted when his cock sprang out against your lower stomach. Your hands were on his shoulders, and you lifted up to get out of his lap, but his hands clamped onto the back of your thighs and he guided you back down. "Come on, now, sweetheart, won't even give it a chance? If it starts to hurt too bad, we'll stop..." He leaned forward and kissed your collarbone. He moved one hand away, looking up at you as he wrapped it around the base of his cock and guided the sensitive tip to prod against your hole. His eyes were trained on yours, and he watched your expression for any pain as he guided you down. Your breath caught in your throat and it definitely stung, and your grip on his shoulders showed that. He kept guiding you down onto his cock slowly, gently, until he was sheathed fully inside you. He grunted quietly, feeling your warmth envelop him. After a minute or so he started guiding your hips up and down slowly, and he was kissing your neck again. "Was that so hard, sweet thing?" Soap was as equally surprised as you. You, at the size of his cock, himself at the expression on your face and the words you uttered when you saw it. "Mm, it won't fit?" He said, almost to himself as his cock rested against your cunt, his hips moving in a slow, lithe manner as he dragged it back and forth, the tip catching your clit every time he moved. "We'll make it fit," he said, his gaze tracking back to you as he leaned over you. You whimpered, still a little alarmed and not wanting it to hurt, but his kisses and the motion of him against you calmed your nerves a bit. "Tell me 'f it hurts." He murmurs, nipping at your ear as he shifted his hips, pulling back and pinning your legs against your chest with one hand and guiding his cock to your cunt with the other. He grunted quietly at the warmth, pushing his hips forward. It was a quick, smooth movement. Pain shot through you for a brief second and you jolted, but the pain was gone as quick as it came. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you whimpered when you felt his cock twitch inside you, and he laughed quietly. "Mmm, yeah... feels good, hm? N'ya said it wouldn't fit... Seems to me like ya just couldn't take it."

When you told Gaz... He didn't know what to do for a few seconds, then ultimately decided that he still wanted the experience to be special to you. So he stood up, getting up from being on top of you, and knelt at the edge of the bed. "S'alright, dove," he purrs, wrapping his arms around your legs and pulling you towards him gently, littering feather-light kisses over your thighs. You whimpered in a mix of embarrassment and need. He hums and looks up at you as he pushes your thighs apart, flashing you a grin. "Still want you to feel good, sweetheart." He chuckled, moving his head over your center and dragging his tongue, warm and hot over your cunt before one hand came up between your legs, his middle and ring finger rubbing over your hole as he found your clit almost instantly. He licked small, rhythmic circles over the sensitive bud, his lips closing around it to suck on it gently as he pushed those two fingers into you, his eyes flitting up to meet yours as you watched him. Your face was flushed and your lips were parted, your head tilting back as you moaned out at the sudden pleasure. He felt pleasure shoot through his body upon hearing you whimper and moan at the sensation of his tongue. "I'll fuck you proper, don't worry. Jus' gotta make you cum on my fingers a few times, then you'll be able to take me, yeah?"

Konig... this guy knows he's big. He spent a while prepping you before you guys ever even got close to having sex. You were small as it is, so he was a bit nervous about taking it further with you. However, his anxiety was long forgotten on a night when you were being particularly difficult, and he decided to pin you to your bed and make out with you; and teach you a lesson. You pulled away mid-kiss when you felt his hand at work, his lips traveling down the span of your neck and nipping at the flesh as your eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of his cock. Part of you was fucking surprised, and that surprise turned into concern. "Konig," you whimpered. "You won't fit." Your concerns didn't deter Konig in the slightest, and he kept nipping at your neck, licking his tongue over the marks. "It'll be fine, liebe, you'll take it, won't you?" He murmured, sucking a dark hickey on your neck as he pushed your dress up. He moved and pushed your legs apart, still kissing at your neck and moving them down as he leaned up against you, slowly guiding his cock into you and stopping to let you adjust, groping your breasts before pushing into you just a bit more. With his caution, it didn't hurt, and within a minute or so he was fully sheathed inside you and you were writhing and whimpering. "Yeah... I knew you'd take it. So good for me..."

[misspygmypie]

What's That Brush For?

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Requested: Yes Summary: Lando is fascinated by your morning makeup routine :) Words: 765

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with fascination as you meticulously applied your makeup. The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow that made the whole process feel even more intimate. The Brit had been standing there for a good five minutes, observing you while you were pulling your hair into a high ponytail, without saying a single word. 

As you had moved on to doing your makeup for the day he just kept watching, mesmerized, as you skillfully blended foundation and brushed on eyeshadow with precise movements.

“Wow,” he said, leaning in closer, his voice tinged with awe. “I never realized how much goes into this. What’s that brush for?”

You watched as he picked up the little tool and looked at it wide-eyed, bopping its soft bristles with his index finger before bringing it up to his eyes and inspecting it closely.

You glanced up to your boyfriend. “This is a blending brush. It helps smooth out the eyeshadow so there are no harsh lines in between the colors.”

Lando nodded, clearly enthralled by the whole situation. “Can I try? I mean, I probably won’t get it right, but it looks like fun.”

You smiled at him, amused by his enthusiasm. “Sure, give it a go. Just be gentle and please don’t poke my eye out, I kind of still need it.”

“Shut up, you muppet, as if I was that clumsy…” he gave you a sour look and you chuckled, remembering some moments he definitely had been that clumsy.

As he carefully tried his hand at blending the different powders on your eyelid he asked, “Does it always take this long? I feel like I’m messing it up.”

“Practice makes perfect,” you reassured him, watching as his concentration intensified, his tongue now poking out of his mouth making him way more adorable than should be allowed. “It takes time to get the hang of it. And don’t worry, you’re doing fine,” you ensured him after a quick glance into the mirror.

He looked at the result and grinned, a mixture of pride and humor in his expression. “This is really cool. I had no idea it was such an art form. How did you learn all this?”

You laughed softly, appreciating his genuine interest which is something you never would have expected. But then again, this was Lando and he always was full of surprises. “A lot of trial and error, plus some tutorials online. It’s like anything else, practice and patience.”

Lando’s eyes twinkled with enthusiasm. “Maybe I should start learning more. Who knows, I might end up being a makeup artist on the side.”

You chuckled at the boy next to you. “You never know. It could be a fun skill to have. But don’t quit your day job just yet.”

He grinned, returning to his spot by the door, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the frame. “Fair enough. But if you ever need an assistant, I’m your guy,” Lando announced proudly, pointing at himself with his two thumbs.

“Thanks, Lan. I might just take you up on that offer someday. You know,” you said, applying a bit of highlighter with a deft hand, “makeup can be a lot like racing in a way. It’s all about precision, timing, and a bit of creativity.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? I never thought of it that way.”

“Yeah,” you explained, smiling as you looked at him. “Just like in racing, you need to have good technique and an eye for detail. And there’s always room to experiment and improve.”

He nodded thoughtfully, clearly processing the comparison. “I guess it makes sense. And I suppose the same principles apply, practice makes perfect.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “And it’s all about having fun with it, too.”

Lando’s grin widened. “Well, I definitely had fun. Thanks for letting me try it out. Maybe next time we can swap skills, I'll give you a few racing tips if you show me more about makeup.”

“Deal,” you said, laughing. “Looking forward to it. But how about a cup of coffee first?”

“That can be arranged,” Lando smiled and gave you a quick kiss before he headed out into the direction of the kitchen. 

As the door clicked shut behind him, you tidied up the bathroom counter, feeling a small bit of excitement about what had just happened. It was one of those small moments that made you appreciate Lando just that much more and perhaps you soon would learn something new about his world too!

[ahqkas]

♯ DEALER ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!ravenclaw!reader

SYNOPSIS! smoking had never interested you before but when the local dealer catches your eye, you might get the experience of a professional

WORD COUNT! 2.9k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! smoking, theo is hogwarts’ dealer, reader is inexperienced in the area of smoking, theo teaches reader how to smoke, kissing

NOTES! i do NOT promote smoking / dealing in this, it’s simply a work of fiction!

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

CIGARETTES, SLENDER CYLINDERS OF FINELY CUT TOBACCO WRAPPED IN PAPER, HAVE LONG HELD A FASCINATION FOR MANY. Each drag brings a mix of sensations: the initial spark and crackle as the flame meets the tip, the first inhalation that fills the lungs with a warm, almost soothing burn, and the exhalation that releases a plume of smoke, curling and dissipating into the air like whispers. The nicotine within offers a swift release, a rush that calms the nerves and sharpens the focus, although temporarily.

In the heart of Hogwarts, where the whispers of ancient stories mingled with the soft rustle of parchment, existed a sacred place of knowledge known to all as the library. To the ordinary eye, it was just a place of shelves filled with dusty books and boring atmosphere. But to those who knew where to look, was a hidden secret only some had the privilege of knowing. It was here, that Theodore Nott found his sweet spot.

Theodore Nott moved with a smooth, practiced ease. He blended in perfectly, among the towering shelves and the scent of old books. To most, he was just another student, perhaps a bit more mysterious than others. But to those who sought him out, he was a source of comfort, someone who could give them relief from the intense pressures of their magical education. A dealer.

Theo's operations were known to be like a well-choreographed dance. A subtle nod here, a quiet exchange there, all under the watchful yet unsuspecting eyes of Madam Pince. The library was the perfect place for his discreet business. It offered the privacy and anonymity that his clients needed - students from various houses looking for a way to escape their stresses.

Cigarettes, slender and neatly wrapped, were his main product to sell. Easily accessible and easily sold. Each one was more than just a tobacco roll; it was an object of escape. Theo understood the draw of that first spark, the way the flame flickered before lighting a moment of calm. He saw it in their eyes - the relief as the smoke filled their lungs and the world's worries seemed to disappear, even if just for a moment. He wasn't just selling cigarettes; he was providing a brief moment of peace.

But the Slytherin's trade wasn't limited to tobacco. For those in deeper need, he offered small vials of potions, each carefully brewed and discreetly hidden. These elixirs could calm stressed nerves or boost a tired mind, depending on what was needed. Theo got everything you could dream of.

His reputation spread quietly through whispers in common rooms and soft murmurs in the Great Hall. To some, he was a lifeline; to others, a tempting distraction. And through it all, Theodore Nott remained a mystery, a figure covered in secrecy, walking the fine line between the pursuit of knowledge and the lure of the forbidden.

He was intelligent, cunning, and unbelievably handsome. No one would suspect him for a dealer.

That boy got your interest.

You stood hidden behind a tall shelf in the back corner of the library, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you peered through the gap between two dusty volumes of Hogwarts: History. The library was quiet, the usual hum of activity reduced to a soft whisper. You were careful to keep yourself concealed, not wanting anyone to notice your presence, least of all the Slytherin boy.

Your eyes were fixed on Theo, who was standing in a quiet corner of the library, partially hidden by the towering bookshelves. His movements were smooth and calculated as he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small vial filled with a bright blue potion. The vial shimmered under the soft light, casting an ethereal glow that caught the eye of the Hufflepuff girl standing nervously before him.

Theo handed the potion over with a calm, practiced ease, his expression unreadable. The Hufflepuff quickly slipped a handful of coins into Theo's hand, their fingers brushing briefly before the girl tucked the potion into her robes and hurried away nervously. You watched as Theo carefully counted the money,

Good to know you won't be first to approach him with those feelings.

You stepped out from the safety of your hidden place, your heart racing as you made your way towards Theo. The decision had been made in your mind - you needed those cigarettes, even though you had never smoked a single one in your entire life. The Slytherin interested you, and what was better than the idea of approaching him with a business offer?

Theo's eyes flickered up as you approached and a flicker of surprise appeared on his face before he quickly masked it by his usual calm demeanor. He had noticed you before, the pretty Ravenclaw with the fierce personality, always absorbed in your studies. You were the exact opposite of his usual clientele, and that piqued his interest. What was the Ravenclaw's good girl doing here, with him?

He watched you with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, noting the determined set of your jaw and the way your fingers clenched around the strap of your bag that clung to your shoulder. You were nervous, that much was clear, but there was also a resolve in your eyes that he couldn't ignore.

As you came to a stop before him, the faint scent of old books and parchment lingering in the air between the two of you, Theo tilted his head slightly. "[Last name]," he greeted, his voice low and smooth, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. This would be interesting. "What brings you here?"

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "I need some cigarettes," you said, the tome of your voice firm despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Theo's eyes narrowed slightly, appraising you. He had seen many students come to him for relief, but your request was something he wasn't expecting in the slightest. Still, he had watched you from afar, intrigued by your quiet determination and the air of mystery that surrounded you. Could you blame him though? You were pretty, smart, and had a flicker of fire in you.

Just Theo's type.

Your request hung in the air, tension crackling between you like static electricity. Theo's gaze softened, his expression a mixture of concern and understanding as he considered your plea. Sure, he was a dealer, but he wasn't heartless.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," he began cautiously, his silver eyes flickering over your determined expression. "You've never smoked before, have you?"

Well, that was surprising. How did he know that? You shook your head. "No, but I need something, anything."

Theo paused, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. He knew the risks of smoking, the addictive grip it could have on a person's life. Merlin, he smoked almost every single day, of course he knew. Yet, as he studied you, he couldn't not notice the desperation in your eyes - the same desperation that had driven countless others to seek him out.

But you  wanted him for something entirely different.

Finally, with a sigh, he relented, his hand reaching out to offer you the pack of cigarettes in his hold. "I'll give them to you, but only if I can share one with you," he proposed, his voice soft yet firm, insisting on it. He wouldn't take a no for an answer in this. "And I'll teach you properly how to smoke. It's not something to take lightly."

Your eyes widened in surprise, gratitude flooding your features. Your plan worked. “Thank you, Theo," you breathed out a sigh of relief. "That means a lot."

The Slytherin nodded and a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Consider it a lesson in the art of stress relief," he said with a hint of amusement in his tone. "And the pack of cigarettes? It's on the house."

Decisions are the threads that weave the fabric of our lives, guiding us along paths both familiar and unknown. Good decisions illuminate our journey of life, leading us towards fulfillment and growth. They are born from careful consideration, informed by wisdom and experience, and guided by values and aspirations. In contrast, bad decisions cast shadows upon our path, obscuring our vision and stirring doubt and regret within us. They arise from impulsivity, fear, or ignorance, leading us astray and causing pain and disappointment. Yet even in the bad decisions, there lies the potential for growth and resilience, as we learn from our mistakes and strive to make wiser choices in the future.

You wondered if asking Theo for the cigarettes was a good idea.

You stepped into the cool night air of the Astronomy Tower, the darkness enveloped you like a familiar shadow. Above, the sky stretched out, filled with millions of flicker kisses stars. The moon, a delicate crescent hanging low on the horizon, cast a gentle glow over the landscape.

You tilted your head back, your gaze drawn upward to the constellations that adorned the heavens. To your left, the recognizable figure of Orion stood out, its three bright stars forming the distinct shape of the Hunter's Belt. Nearby, the sprawling form of the Great Bear dominated the northern sky, its outline marked by the gleaming North Star. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you identified the graceful curves of Cassiopeia, the Queen of Ethiopia, her celestial throne outlined by a delicate arrangement of stars. Nearby, the Pleiades cluster sparkled like a cluster of diamonds, its seven luminous stars casting a soft glow against the night sky.

The sinuous shape of Draco, the Dragon, snaked its way across the firmament, its serpentine form twisting and turning amidst the sea of stars. You through of the person whose name matched, and hung out around Theodore Nott every day since the beginning of your years at Hogwarts.

Theodore Nott. Of course your mind would run to him.

You found yourself leaning against the worn wooden railing of the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, the cool metal digging into your forearms as you stared down at the pack of cigarettes you had received from Theodore nestled in your hand. With a heavy sigh, you traced the embossed design on the pack with your fingertips, your thoughts drifting like wisps of smoke on the night breeze again.

You had never imagined yourself in this position, a cigarette pack in hand, contemplating the choices that had brought you to this moment. Funny how decisions were full of consequences.

Theo - the quiet boy from Slytherin who had caught your eye despite the whispers that surrounded him. He was the one who seemed to exist on the fringes of Hogwarts' social circles, yet commanded a silent respect from those who sought him out for his promised offerings.

You couldn't deny the curiosity he stirred within you, the way his piercing silver eyes seemed to hold secrets untold, and his cold presence beckoned you like a moth to a flame. Despite the stark differences between the two of you - you, the respected Ravenclaw, he, the mysterious dealer from Slytherin - there was an undeniable pull between you, a magnetic force that defied logic and reason of the question: why?

Opposites attract, they say, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was truth to the saying.

Before you could react any further, Theodore Nott appeared beside you, his presence as silent and mysterious as ever. The faint scent of tobacco and earthy cologne trailed behind him. He smelled nice.

Without a word, he materialized a slender cigarette from his pocket, the tip ready to glow with a soft ember by the time he placed it in the corner of his mouth. He held the cigarette between his fingers and without breaking eye contact, he spoke in a low, calm voice, guiding you through the new experience with a patience you hadn't expected.

"First, hold it like this," Theo instructed, gently placing the cigarette between your fingers, positioning it just right. His touch was light, almost fleeting, but enough to send a spark of fire through you. You mimicked his hold, feeling the slightly rough texture of the cigarette paper against your skin. Theo's fingers lingered briefly over yours, adjusting your grip until he was satisfied.

"Now, bring it to your lips."

You felt a nervous tremor in your chest as you positioned the cigarette between your lips, its unfamiliar weight resting delicately. The cool night air brushed against your skin, but all you could focus on was Theo, standing close enough that you could see the slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, never left yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. How could a man be this beautiful?

Theo raised his wand, the tip glowing softly. "Hold still," he murmured, his voice low and steady. You complied, your breath hitching in the back of your throat as the wand's flame drew nearer.

He leaned in, his fingers brushing your cheek as he steadied the cigarette. The moment stretched out, and with a flick of his wand, the tip of the cigarette ignited, the flame casting a warm, flickering light over your face. It felt oddly comforting.

"Now, take a slow, deep inhale," Theo instructed, his eyes never wavering from yours. The flame's glow highlighted the depths of his gaze, making the moment feel both surreal and intimate.

You did as he said, drawing the smoke into your mouth. The initial harshness made your eyes water, but Theo's unwavering gaze kept you grounded.

"Relax," he whispered, his voice a soothing sound to your nerves. "You're doing fine."

As you exhaled, your shoulders relaxed as well, the initial discomfort easing into something more manageable. Theo's proximity made the experience less daunting.

"Again," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "Slow and steady."

You gave him a nod, your eyes still locked onto his as you took another drag, this time more controlled, more assured. The smoke filled your lungs, and as you exhaled, you felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Theo's lips curved into a small, approving smile, a silent acknowledgment of your progress and your heart skipped a beat.

Just as you started to feel more confident in your actions, Theo reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he took the cigarette from your hand.

With a deft movement, he placed it between his own lips, a smirk playing on his face. Your breath hitched as you watched him, your eyes drawn to the way his lips curved around the cigarette. The pink lipgloss you had carefully applied earlier left a delicate mark on the paper, and now Theo's lips were tasting the gloss.

His eyes glinted with amusement as he took a slow, deliberate drag, inhaling deeply. The ember flared briefly, casting a warm glow over his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face, making him look like an angel. As he exhaled, the smoke curled and twisted in the air between the two of you, dissipating into the night.

He removed the cigarette and examined it, his thumb tracing the faint outline of your lipgloss. The smirk on his lips grew more pronounced, a blend of amusement and something deeper, something almost appreciative. He turned his gaze back to you, the intensity of his stare making your pulse quicken.

"Interesting choice," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the words punctuated by a cloud of smoke. His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to the cigarette, the smirk never leaving his face. "Pink suits you."

Without fully understanding what compelled you in the moment, you felt yourself drawn towards Theo, the world around you fading into a blur. You leaned in, the distance between you closing in a heartbeat. The night air seemed to hold its breath as you moved, your focus entirely on Theo's face, his smirk fading into a look of surprise.

Your lips met his with a gentle urgency, capturing the soft, teasing smile that had been playing on his mouth like it was nothing. The cigarette fell from his fingers, forgotten as his hands moved to cup your face, the coolness of his skin contrasting with the warmth of your own.

The kiss deepened, and you felt the soft flutter of his eyelashes at the apples of your cheeks.

When the two of you finally broke apart, breathless and wide-eyed, the night air seemed to rush back in, filling the space between you. Your heart raced, your mind reeling from what you had just done. You searched Theo's eyes for a reaction, finding a mix of surprise and something that looked remarkably like admiration.

Neither of you spoke for a moment, the silence stretching out, filled with unasked questions and unspoken answers. Theo's smirk returned, softer this time, as he ran a thumb over your cheek, brushing away a stray lock of hair.

"Well, that was unexpected."

You nodded, your own lips curving into a shy smile. "I don't know what came over me," admitting, your voice barely held the tone of a whisper.

Theo's gaze softened, his fingers lingering on your soft lips. "I'm glad you did it," he said quietly, the words hanging in the air between you.

Tonight had changed everything, and you couldn't wait to see where this path would lead. After all, the consequences of your actions didn't disappoint and you would be a fool to let the aftermath of it go.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

[b00kdiary]

MORE BAT BOYS X PLUS SIZE READER (smut!!) PLEASE xxx

Cautious | Bat Boys

ACOTAR Bat Boys x Plus Size reader

It's just as Cassian said: the bat boys were young and dumb… and fucked females in the same room as each other. Y/N’s in for one hell of a surprise.

Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, fluff, and smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

PART TWO

"Rhysand" I giggled, the sound drowned out as he slammed the oak front door shut and pushed me up against it.

He pressed his lips to mine, capturing my laugh within that soft, sinful mouth of his.

I gasped, back arching against the cold wood as his tongue swept in, the faint taste of wine invading my senses. My fingers clawed up his armoured chest, scratching and admiring the lean muscle he had gained training here at Windhaven.

He caged me in, taller and broader than I had expected, especially for a male of only twenty years. But his experience with females was more than evident as he kissed me, one hand gripping the flesh at my hip while the other curved around my jaw to keep me just where he liked.

A moan slipped free as his lips plucked back from mine, an insatiable hunger in his violet gaze as he dipped his head down and began suckling wet, needy kisses against my throat. I felt his smirk against my skin at the sounds he wrenched from me.

"Rhy-Rhysand," I couldn't form proper sentences, not as he nipped and sucked against the sweetest spot at the base of my throat. He hummed absentmindedly. "We'll get caught – "

"Rhys," He corrected, voice like melted chocolate. I bit my lip as he kissed up neck and jaw, before pulling back to smirk at me.

Gods he was beautiful.

"Call me Rhys, darling," He brushed the tip of his nose against mine and my eyes fluttered. "And no one's going to catch us. My mother is at the town hall, gossiping with your mother."

I giggled again and his lip quirked at the corner. A flash of sweetness behind the charm.

Again, his lips met mine, a collision of teeth and tongues and enough need that all my protests disappeared. Washed away by the feel and taste of him, by the way, his hands now brushed up my stomach, long, ringed fingers teasing under my aching breasts.

So many noises escaped me as that hand lifted higher, and I felt a charge of power course through me as Rhys cupped my breasts in his palm, a rough sound rumbling from him as he pinched my pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"I don't – " Words failed me again, every sentence melting into a moan as he toyed with my breasts, grinning as he did so. "I don't think this is what your mother meant when she said to make me feel welcome."

He snorted and braced a hand over my head, the other moved to tilt my chin to meet his pleased smirk. I could smell the salt and jasmine on his tan skin, could make out the few Illyrian tattoos peeking out from under his leathers.

"I disagree, darling," Again that smooth term of endearment, and the smile he gave me as my thighs clenched shut told me he knew what it did to me. "I'm doing exactly what I was told – creating long-lasting allies, a friendship to withstand centuries."

"Is this how you treat all your friends then?" I quirked a brow, desperately ignoring the way his thumb swooped back and forth at my jaw.

"Don't be jealous," His smile broadened a breathtaking sight. My lungs constricted tighter when he leaned down closer, and I felt the unmistakable imprint of his hard length against my stomach. "I'm sure I'm not the first friend you've ever made, Y/N darling."

A glint of challenge in those midnight eyes.

"Now who's jealous?" I teased and satisfaction filled me when shadows eclipsed his eyes, the hand at my jaw tightening when I rocked my hips forward to rut against him. He growled as I did it again. And again.

"You are trouble," He chuckled, and I was molten in his hands as he pressed one long, indulgent kiss against my mouth. The kind that promised a night I wouldn't easily forget. "I'll take your lack of a denial as a personal challenge, to be the best friend you've ever had – "

I opened my mouth to laugh, but then Rhys clamped a broad, calloused hand over my lips. Silencing me.

His mouth pressed against his knuckles, violet eyes warning me to stay quiet.

And then I heard it - footsteps crunched outside, a gentle patter against the stones leading to the cabin.

"Let me just grab my shawl," A light, feminine voice called out. Rhys and I weren't breathing. "The weather's turned for the worst."

My heart lurched. That was Rhysand's mother and the look in his eyes told me she would not be pleased to find him here, find me here. This was definitely not the kind of welcome she had meant.

It all happened in a blur.

One second, we stood there, pressed against each other, his hand over my mouth and knowing we were absolutely fucked. And then the next, a cloud of dark mist erupted through the room and then Rhysand had gripped my small hand in his – and winnowed us.

It was a flurry of darkness and shadows, warping and twisting our bodies as we moved through time and space. He gripped my soft body tight, hands keeping me protectively close.

And then we were in a room.

I gasped as my feet once again met solid ground, the world spinning around me, my guts coiling in tandem with it. Rhys yet against pressed a finger against my lips, and I found myself cemented to another cold, oak door.

His bedroom door likely, though I couldn't see over his towering, broad form.

I gripped his wrist, staring into those wide violet eyes and straining my ears. I froze as the front door creaked open, those soft footsteps pattering into the living room, muttering as she moved. My nails carved half-moons into his flesh, a mixture of fear and excitement taunting me as we both silently listened for his mother's steps.

I might have been crazy, might have utterly fucking insane for how my body was reacting. But with him so close, being able to feel every hard inch of him and not being able to touch him for fear of being caught... it made my core soak.

Rhys's eyes flashed down to mine, surprise and mischief in them as he caught the scent of my arousal. I felt my cheeks heat and I swear he seemed to shake with the restraint it took to keep waiting, looked as if he wanted to devour me at this moment.

But we waited. Even if it killed us.

We waited, listening in suffocating silence as Rhys's mother waded through her home, items rustling and clattering as she searched for her shawl. It might have been a few minutes or a lifetime before she sighed, finding it.

I rubbed against Rhysand's cock again as her footsteps padded toward the door, getting quieter.

And the second that door closed shut – the male snarled and then was upon me.

My back slammed into the wood behind me, hard enough that the breath knocked from my lungs. Rhysand gave me no time to get down air before his mouth clashed with mine and his tongue forced my lips and teeth apart.

He moaned into my mouth, and I felt alight as every inch of him cemented against every inch of me. My hands gripped his shoulders, exploring and feral as I touched my way along the hard, lean lines of him, desperate to just feel him.

He seemed to feel the same, his mouth tearing from mine to bite and kiss against my throat again, his face slotting into the crook of my neck and mouth teasing the already bruising flesh there. I whimpered, eyes rolling as his mouth descended lower, my dress yanked down enough for my breasts to spill free.

"Fuck," Rhys swore, his gaze pitch black. My body burned at that look.

His head dipped and his lips found purchase around one taut nipple, drawing it between his teeth and sucking. He hummed and the sound travelled through my whole body, mixing with the desperate sounds wrenching free from my parted lips.

Rhys enjoyed my breasts, smearing spit along them as he toyed from one to the other, biting and kissing and worshipping them.

It was dangerous for us to do this still. Stupid even. Knowing Rhys's mother could come back at any point, knowing my own mother would likely start looking for me soon, that if they came here, saw us, even smelt us –

"How- how did your mother not know?" I managed to choke out, fisting Rhys's midnight hair. He continued twirling his tongue around my sensitive nipple as if he hadn't heard me. "She must have smelt it – "

"Why are we talking about my mother?" Rhys groaned, lips curling into a disgruntled frown. I yanked at his hair, forcing his face back up to mine, and he sighed at the persistence in my doe eyes. "Magic – that cloud of mist? It's a little trick to make sure none can sense me, sense us."

I hummed in understanding, opening my mouth to ask another question. But then his hand curved down my stomach and my breath hitched as he slowly pulled my dress higher, exposing my legs to the cold air. I shivered as his hand traced my bare skin, closer and closer to where I needed him.

"Did that placate your curiosity?" He teased, fingers trailing in and out, until my core was clenched with need.

"Don't be an ass," I scowled, hips shifting, trying to force some contact. But Rhys just smiled, drawing faint circles at the apex of my thigh. "We nearly got caught, I'm being cautious – "

"Cautious? Is that what it was?" He arched a thick brow at me, and my back curved when he ran the pad of his thumb over the front of my panties, feeling the dampness there. "Do you always get this wet when cautious?"

Any smart retort I had died on my lips as Rhys pressed his thumb against my clit and began slowly rubbing circles over the thin cloth. I moaned, and his grin was victorious, his dark gaze half-shielded by the strands of his hair tousled forward.

He seemed no longer in the mood to tease me, and I was glad for it as I dragged his mouth back to mine. A grumble of approval from him as he lazily rubbed at my clit, his mouth moving just as lazily against mine.

"Rhys," I pleaded, hips grinding down against his palm needing more friction. And he obliged me, no, he more than obliged me.

I watched as this half-Illyrian, half-High Fae male, the next High Lord of the Night Court, possibly the most powerful High Lord to ever be, dropped to his knees before me.

He looked up at me through thick, dark lashes, that mischief and desire in his eyes enough to make me climax alone. But then he lifted my soft thigh and hooked it over one broad shoulder and growled as he pushed my dress back and revealed my white underthings, a wet spot painfully obvious in the centre.

The wooden door handle dug into my spine, but I couldn't do anything but lean against it, my chest rising and falling in waves as I stared down at him before me.

His low position exposed the Fae light in the room, and it glistened over his tan skin and feral smile as he brushed his thumb over the thin material again. I bit my lip hard enough to bleed as he slipped a finger under the material and tugged it to the side.

"Cauldron," Rhys groaned, a low, appreciative noise as he eyed my exposed, wet core. "Look at you."

My cheeks heated, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment, suddenly feeling very exposed. Rhys kissed my inner thigh, playfully nipping at the flesh there, forever able to calm any raging emotions within me.

My nails cracked against the wall as his soft lips trailed higher, closer and closer to my centre. I couldn't contain my breathless moan when his mouth met that forbidden spot, and he dragged a slow, deliberate lick up my core.

"Rhys," I could barely hear my voice over the pounding in my heart. Could barely hear it over the soft, sensual growl Rhysand emitted at the first taste of me.

And as if that taste was better than he could imagine, he went back in for another. And then another. And another. Until he was licking and suckling his tongue back and forth against my sore clit, wrenching sounds that were unmistakably lewd.

"Careful, darling," Rhys chuckled, pulling back from between my legs just far enough for me to see his dilated pupils and the wetness coating his smile. "If you moan any louder, we'll definitely get caught."

I didn't have the chance to respond before Rhys plucked my clit between his lips again, all thoughts eddying from my mind as pleasure knitted through my core, painfully tight. My head thudded back against the door, my hips grinding down against Rhys's tongue, chasing that familiar high.

My fingers laced through his hair and Rhys hummed as I tugged at the strands, my body acting of its own accord, now riding his face, riding his tongue. I felt something tauten within me, and my legs began to shake as my climax approached faster and faster.

"Rhys," I gasped, back bowing. "Rhys, I – "

"I know, I know," He purred, the vibration running through me. "Just let go, darling."

He flicked his tongue hard and fast, and my mouth parted in a desperate cry as my release slammed into me, knocking the air from my lungs. My body stilled, thighs closing around his head instinctively, and I was near sobbing his name as I fell apart.

Rhys kept going through it. Held me like he wished to make this moment last an eternity.

The stars exploding across my vision dimmed, fading as I sagged back against the door.

I giggled, half-gasping as I pushed at his head, my body writhing as I forced his mouth off me. Rhys laughed, low and sultry, before eventually relenting, plucking back and licking the moisture from his lips.

I peered down at him, sweating and dizzy. The male was a sight for sore eyes, grinning up at me, as he watched me catch my breath.

“That wasn’t very cautious of you, darling,” Rhys smirked, stars twinkling in his eyes. “It’s a miracle no one heard you.”

I bit my lip, laughing as I stared down at the male, my orgasm fogging every sense and making it impossible to retort anything nearly witty enough back.

“Oh, you were heard,” A rough voice drawled the words. Yet Rhysand’s mouth didn’t move. “It’s a good thing we’re so good at keeping secrets, eh Rhys?”

My heart stopped as I lifted my head, following that smug voice.

And saw two Illyrian males before us.

Watching us. Watching me.

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

Comment to be added to the tag list!

Taking requests for all SJM men x plus size reader!

PART TWO

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[paleepeaches]

Dom Connor x afab!reader (smut)

Warnings: foul language, rough sex, creampie (this is literally my first smut so) 18+ fuckers

“Please, Y/N, please, I’ve been a good boy.” 

You laughed mockingly down at him, continuing your assault. “Connor, being a good boy means having patience. Just look at you.” Your hand tilted his chin upwards, and his brown, warm eyes met yours. They were blown and filled with need. 

“We’re just getting started, and you’re already begging for me to fuck you.” As soon as the words flew out of your mouth, something switched inside Connor. Perhaps it was some sort of secret code, you said, but it caused his eyes to lower into an almost primal stare. He growled hungrily, hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, and in one swift motion, he flipped you over. You fell to the bed with a soft thump, a small gasp leaving your lips. You couldn’t believe the puppy dog android had it in him. Usually, Connor was always the one underneath you. Now, the roles were switched. His interrogation side had come out to play.

He took hold of himself, adjusting the position and moving his swollen leaking tip closer to your clit. You gasped loudly as soon as you felt him. Your hands gripped the bicep of his arm, nails digging into his shirt and faux skin. You whined and withered below him as he rubbed slow, delicious circles over your sensitive nub. You could feel his sticky wet pre cum coat your folds, making a lewd mess.

His head lowered to your ear, his breath fanning over it and causing goosebumps. “Who’s begging now?” His voice was hoarse and filled with mockery. He retracted from you, showing that lopsided grin off to you. He was taking enjoyment in watching you whine and beg. It was an unusual but pleasurable sight for him that made his LED spin yellow. 

“Please, Connor, I need you.” Your voice was small and breathless.

 He chuckled darkly and smoothed your hair out with one hand. “I’m gonna need more than that, Y/N.”

You knew the detective in him wouldn’t be satisfied with a lazy half-confession. He wanted you to spill out how much you craved his touch. He wanted to hear the soft pants and whimpers laced with your words as you told him how much you wanted him to fuck you. It was a new experience for you but one you took with a sense of thrill. You bent for him and opened your mouth again, begging, “Please, Connor, I need your coc-” You were cut off by him slipping his mushroom tip past your folds and into your achingly tight cunt. You moaned, clawing at his bicep again.

“You can do better than that. Come on, I know you can use that pretty little mouth of yours.” He stared you down with a stern gaze. He wasn’t satisfied with your soft, small voice. You knew he wanted more for you to be practically crying out for him. 

“Come on, baby, tell me what you want.” Connor slowly inched his tip back out, and your cunt let it go with a wet squelching noise. You whined, feeling the loss of him inside you. He knew how to make you break, bend and beg. His job was to get confessions, and he always accomplished his mission. 

“Please, Connor! Please fuck me. I’ll be a good girl for you!” You cried out, clawing needily at his arm, the one gripping his cock. 

He smirked down at you, enjoying your confession. He was satisfied enough and slammed himself into you. You moaned out, back arching and cunt clamping down on him. He groaned, panting as he felt you struggle to adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re always so tight, baby.”

Bucking your hips up, you struggled to fuck yourself up on his cock. His hand gripped your waist, pushing your hips down and pinning them on the bed below you. “We just started, and you’re already begging for my cock.” He echoed your words, teasing you. He didn’t let you respond and rammed himself into you, fucking your poor sopping cunt. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the loud moans escaping your throat. He noticed the lack of noise quickly, his LED spinning red. His hand gripped your face while his thumb pushed past your lips, invading your mouth. Pressing his thumb on your tongue, he urged you to moan. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear those pretty little noises.”

You obeyed him simply feeling like you’d do anything for him-not that it wasn't the truth. You let yourself go, crying while he plunged himself balls deep into you. His tip kissed your cervix and caused you to wiggle under him, spreading your legs further apart so he could fuck you deeper. “You like that?” He cooed at you. You nodded vigorously, wanting to cry for him to hit it again.

He groaned again, hitting your cervix once more. “Fuck.” The more he snapped his hips into yours, the more wet you got. He could feel your arousal spill out of you, coating his cock and bathing his heavy ballsack. You could feel the thick bundle of nerves inside of you coming undone. Connor could tell you were close by the way your pussy clenched tighter around him, desperately sucking him in. “This greedy little cunt wants to cum?’ He questioned you darkly. 

“Please, please, I wanna cum.” You gasped out, panting from the extreme overdoes of pleasure he was providing you. 

Connor wasted no time and pinned your arms above your head; his other hand slipped under you, gripping your ass cheek. He was ramming inside of you, causing your whole body to jolt violently. Your eyes rolled back, and cries escaped you that you weren’t even aware of. All you felt was his delicious tip bumping repeatedly into your cervix. Whimpers spill from your mouth, and your cunt contracts, clenching down on him as you cum. 

“Shit!” He growls as he feels your warm arousal coat him, soaking his cock. All he needed was to feel the unbearable sensation of your cunt milking him to cum. Hot spurts of his seed pant your insides as he pants heavily. He thrusts sloppily into you a few more times, making sure not a single drop of his cum was wasted. He pulls out and watches his cum pour out of you, stuffing his finger and pushing it back in. 

[campingwiththecharmings]

Another

AN: I feel like I should apologize for my Miguel O'Hara thirst but...I don't wanna.

(Un-beta’d)

PWP in which Miguel makes you come over and over and—

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 749 Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader Warnings: PWP, p in v, kissing, cockwarming, mild biting, soft!Miguel, overstimulation, praise kink, mild blood, established relationship, multiple orgasms, creampie AO3

——————

“Again, mi vida, give me another.” 

You whine, limbs shaking, as each push of his hips sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. He’s been at this for what seems like hours, slowly bringing you to the edge and flinging you over it, only to pull you right back up again and again. He feels so good, his thick cock dragging against every sweet spot inside you, splitting you open, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises— 

Your back bows when he changes the angle slightly, the tip of his cock bumping against your cervix. The pleasure rolls through you in waves, seemingly never ending, as he slowly pushes and pulls himself in and out of you. He still hasn’t come, is still rock hard inside you; he’s holding himself back, you know, waiting for you to reach a certain level of pleasure before he allows himself to experience it himself. If you weren’t so cock drunk right now, you’d probably say something, tell him that you want him to feel good too, that you want to see him lose the control he fights so hard to keep over himself.  

The stirrings of your…fifth (or is it the sixth?) orgasm begin in your belly, the tendrils coiling, about to snap. You moan weakly as your cunt flutters, breath backing up in your lungs. Miguel grunts, jaw clenching as he maintains the same slow pace, his hand sliding from your hip to your sex. His thumb barely circles your clit when the tension inside you breaks, soft waves of bliss rippling from your core, alighting every nerve in your body as you gasp, mouth falling open in a silent moan. Your eyes roll back in your head and your body trembles, fingers twisting loosely in the sheets beneath you. 

Miguel’s groan is broken as you convulse around him, his body moving forward to cover yours, to cage you in as he continues to rut into you, prolonging your pleasure. He presses his face into your neck, murmuring his praises into your skin (“Such a good girl for me, squeezing me so tight.”). His groans increase as your orgasm recedes, his steady pace faltering slightly as he (finally) chases his own pleasure. You moan softly in his ear, your arms heavy as you sluggishly wrap them around his waist, hands resting on his lower back. He mouths at your skin, tongue laving sloppily at the little nicks his fangs leave behind.  

When he comes, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, almost growling as he fills you to the brim with his seed. You gasp in surprise, the sharp pain immediately melting into pleasure. His cock is soft and spent, but you whimper nonetheless when he continues to lazily fuck into you, his cum spilling out with every press of his hips. Despite how tired you feel, you don’t want him to stop, instead slipping your hands low enough to grasp his backside. He pulls his mouth off of your shoulder with a hum, nose dragging up the column of your neck until he meets your lips in a slow, languid kiss. The taste of your own blood on your tongue sends a shiver through you, arousal once more pooling in your gut.  

He must sense it, because he keeps going, keeps pumping his softened cock into you, his mouth swallowing every sweet little noise that escapes from between your lips. When you come this time, it’s less intense, the euphoria cresting softly as you bask in the pleasure. He groans brokenly as you squeeze him again, his forehead pressed against yours, half-lidded eyes glued to your face. His hips finally still as you both come down, and he kisses you again, soft and slow, his hand smoothing gently down the side of your face.

“Okay?” he asks, pulling back a little to study your face. 

You hum, smiling drowsily at him, your hands running up and down his back. 

He smiles back at you, a suspicious glint in his eyes as he churns his hips a little. “Can you give me another one?” 

You whine, shaking your head, your nails digging into his back. “Miguel, no, please. I can’t—” 

“I know, baby,” he chuckles, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m just teasing.” 

You fall asleep like that—his body draped over yours, his cock still inside you—his solid warmth lulling you into a pleasant sleep.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

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[depravitycentral]

Demon Slayer Dick Headcannons (ft. the Hashira)

Tw: yandere, mentions of kidnapping, breeding, cumplay kinda, fem reader, MDNI

Featuring: Giyuu Tomioka, Kyojuro Rengoku, Tengen Uzui, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Obanai Iguro, Gyomei Himejima

It’s pretty – a pale color and perfectly smooth, feeling almost virginal with how perfectly unmarked it is. And of course, it is virginal – that much will become uncomfortably obvious the first time you touch him, Giyuu letting out a near pained grunt after a mere thirty seconds as his orgasm washes over him, embarrassment settling in his stomach because oh god, you must think he’s pathetic now.

Giyuu’s never been one for masturbation, and so the skin on his cock is genuinely extremely sensitive, having had very, very little experience being touched. Just a brush of your finger against his length makes him sputter a bit, Adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he gulps, embarrassment starting to creep up his spine because god, something so small shouldn’t feel so good, especially when it’s just over his robes, not even skin-to-skin contact. He’s bucking his hips at the smallest touch of your thumb against his tip, something like a whimper escaping him when you kitten lick at his base, peppering kisses up the length until you suckle at his tip and see the way his eyes roll back.

When he gets hard he gets rather embarrassed, always trying his best to be subtle about it and not draw attention to it, but the way he cowers over and tries to cover his groin with anything nearby is not nearly as smooth as he’d hope, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly pink over the bridge of his nose.

(And of course, the staring – eyes drilling holes into your body, trying desperately to not ogle at your clothed breasts or the sway of your hips, though he can’t resists a few glances that you’ll almost certainly notice.)

His balls are ever so slightly smaller than expected, not enough to be noticeable at first glance, but they easily fit together in your palm, the area sensitive enough to make him tear up a bit, biting his lip and trying to worm out of your grasp. But don’t be fooled – he likes it, something vaguely sounding like a whine slipping from his lips when you retract your hand, and if he’s especially needy for your attention and touch, he’ll even physically grab your hand and put it back, sucking in a breath and forcing his body to relax.

He's generally very quiet when he’s orgasming, the only visual cue being the way his face twists up into something entirely unexpected from the stoic, emotionless Hashira – he’s gasping, eyes fluttering closed and his eyebrows screwing together.

His body shakes, his abs visibly clenching and unclenching, his thighs flexing and his hips bucking in small, almost imperceptible thrusts, as if his body’s unsure of whether he wants to run away from the pleasure or get closer, impossibly close to have more and more of you. His cum doesn’t taste too bad – a neutral, musky flavor, though luckily without too much saltiness or bitterness.

This is great news for you, because while Giyuu won’t admit it, the feeling of your mouth on his cock has his whole body going slack, his vision becoming a bit splotchy because the sensation of something so warm and wet moving against him has every rational thought leaving his brain.

He’s normally not very adventurous or expressive in bed, trying hard to not turn you off and struggling to become relaxed enough to actually enjoy it, but something about the sight of you on your knees, looking up at him while his cock appears and disappears past your lips has him losing all control, a small moan of your name falling from him while he lightly thrusts his hips, not caring if he looks pathetic or depraved. Not when you’re mouthing at him, drool spilling from the corner of your lips, tongue prodding at his slit and suckling on his tip, as if you’re trying to coax the cum out of him. His cum is runny, and tends to stain things.

(Something alarming when you realize just how many of your clothing items have very, very similar mystery stains.)

He’s not picky about where he finishes, feeling grateful that you’re touching him at all, really, but if he had to choose, he’d pick inside of you because it just feels more intimate that way. It feels right, primal even, and he’ll often have to take a few minutes between rounds simply because his orgasms crash through him with such intensity that he can’t form a coherent thought for a few moments afterwards.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you’re straddling him, riding him and pressing your hands against his chest for leverage. He generally likes positions where you’re in control more, finding himself enjoying the passive, observing role while you take the lead.

(It bruises his pride a bit to confess it, but there’s something so, so very arousing about the idea of being a mere object and tool for your pleasure. And when you’re scooping your hips atop him, grinding and bouncing on him like he’s nothing more than a toy to get off with, Giyuu finds his breath gets heavy, his palms sweaty, every clap of your ass against his thighs bringing him closer and closer to his inevitable orgasm.)

He likes the way you can make the pace and angle exactly what you need, the way he can feel every inch of your cunt sucking him in, and of course the visual. The way you look at him with sultry, pleasure-filled eyes, your lips parted in that pretty ‘o’ shape that he sees when he closes his eyes at night. He has a perfect view of his cock appearing and disappearing inside of you, his skin glistening with your slick and a pretty little ring of white sitting against the coarse black hair of his pelvis.

His hands will grip onto your hips tightly, almost too tight, the only way he can anchor himself in the moment, living and tangible proof that you’re really here with him, touching him, wanting him, and he’s gripping onto you as if he’s afraid it’s all still just a fantasy.

But you’ll see the way his eyes are constantly darting to your bouncing chest, unblinking and fascinated as he watches your nipples grow hard, the plap plap noise of your skin smacking against your ribcage making him practically drool.

(His grows even redder if you grab his hands and use them to cup your breasts, telling him in a breathy, slurred voice to touch me, please Giyuu then you’ll be taken aback by the way he immediately squeezes and gropes, kneading and pinching at your nipples with a voracity that makes your hips stutter. And when he leans in to kiss you, his tongue immediately pushing past your lips and tracing your teeth, just know that it’s a matter of time before his orgasm hits. A matter of seconds, really.)

He likes the intimacy, and how he can feel even more connected and close to you, all the while seeing the way his cock makes you feel.

It’s a solid five inches with average girth, a few thick veins decorating the underside of his length. Kyojuro’s average in nearly every way, with the stark exception being his stamina.

His refractory period is nearly non-existant – he seems to be always hard in your presence, always sporting at least a semi any time he catches a whiff of your scent or hears even the echo of your voice. And it’s obvious, too, in his uniform – there’s always a tent of some sort in his pants, and the truly unfortunate thing is that Kyojuro doesn’t seem to care. He’s not making any effort to hide it when it’s just the two of you, even subconsciously moving his haori back and jutting his hips out ever so slightly so that you’ll notice and perhaps even be enticed by what you’re seeing.

He’s not especially meticulous about grooming himself, feeling that sex should be natural and as you are. To shave would be removing a part of his authentic self, and so there’s always a rather thick bush of dark, curly hairs sitting at the base of his cock, brushing against your clit and making you squirm when he’s got you settled on his lap, warming him while he cuddles you and presses kisses against every inch of your skin he can reach.

(This of course also extends to you – he prefers you don’t shave or wax, and once you’re trapped under his roof he simply won’t let you, denying you access to anything sharp enough to cut. And he’ll make his appreciation for your natural body very, very obvious, even going so far as to bury his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply and sighing when he’s knelt between your legs, letting your scent engulf him as he licks his lips and dives into your cunt.)

He’s decently sensitive, always letting out these pleasured little sighs, a boyish grin sitting on his face every time you touch him because oh, isn’t this heaven, feeling your pretty lips and fingers and cunt on him, just as he’s so longed for?

His cum is warm. Like, unnervingly warm – he’s always running a few degrees warmer than you it seems, every cuddle and press of his body against your own feeling startingly hot, and when his cum lands on your skin it’ll feel like fire. Not painful, but right on the edge of it. It’s thick, too, having the consistency of melted ice cream and leaving a sort of residue on your skin that he’ll gladly lick off of you.

(Cuteness aggression tends to affront him after he’s orgasmed, still out of breath and staring down at your disheveled, messy state underneath him, his cum staining your skin and sweat lining your brow.)

His stamina is off the charts, capable of fucking you for hours on end and holding off his orgasm if he concentrates hard enough. However, his refractory period is also quite short, leading to him instead preferring to come multiple times and not edge himself as strongly, thinking that the act of orgasming for you is proof of how deeply he’s attracted to you, how strongly your touch and words and presence affect him.

And he’ll make you very aware of when he’s orgasming, too – he’s loud, groaning your name and all sorts of praises, that same breathless laughter falling from his lips as he buries his face against the crook of your neck, fingertips pressing against your skin so hard that bruises form the next morning.

(Which he’s inconsolable about, really, the next morning fussing over you and promising to never do it again, only to get lost in the pleasure a few nights later and leave you with fresh bruises. He’ll always beg you to scratch down his back as he thrusts into you as repayment, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the pain-tinged pleasure, proudly wearing your scratches as a badge of love. He’ll even brag to Tengen about it, proudly proclaiming that he’s able to pleasure you so well that you simply must mark him as yours.)

His favorite way for you to touch him is when he’s fucking you in a deep, intimate mating press. He likes the fact that he can get as deep as physically possible in this position, always angling his hips to brush against the front of your walls and against that spongey spot that makes you whine his name, the sound making his head spin and his tongue coming out to lick at his lips.

He loves feeling the way you clench down onto him, the grip you leave on him almost making it hard to pull out and push back in, and idea of you never wanting him to leave you only furthering his thrusts, becoming faster and more bruising.

He’ll have you hold one of your knees against your chest, the other tangled in his hair while he supports himself on his elbow, holding your other leg up while his other hand permanently rests against your clit, drawing circles and tracing the kanji of his name over and over again. The sound of his hips and balls clapping against your ass encourages him to move faster too, and the sight of your breasts bouncing and jiggling underneath him makes his head dip, enveloping a nipple in his mouth and sucking.

(Sucking hard enough to leave you squirming, almost as if he’s expecting something to come out – the mere thought makes him groan, teeth lightly nibbling at your skin and his hips stuttering ever so slightly.)

He just thinks the positions blends the perfect mix of intimacy, eye contact, physical touch, and pleasure, and this is his go-to position that he’ll always default to any time the two of you are naked with one another.

You can request something else, asking him with a sultry hand on his chest to take you from the back or let you ride him, but you’ll always find yourself eventually back up in this position, his sweaty chest brushing against your nipples as he moans and begs for you to tell him you love him.

It’s a girthy six inches, with a near comically large, bulbous tip. It’s the kind of cock that makes you immediately freeze, simultaneously intimidated and immediately salivating, and he knows it. He’s a fan of all things extravagant, and this certainly extends to his cock – there’s a rather obnoxious piercing sitting right underneath his tip, the small metal ball framing an acidy green gem that manages to brush against your g-spot perfectly when he’s got you bent over.

It’s a pretty pink color when he’s flaccid, but when he grows hard it turns to a deep near fuchsia color, never quite making it above the ninety degree mark because it’s simply too heavy. He takes great care in grooming himself, always making sure that he’s impeccably trimmed and clean. He likes to leave the dark pubic hairs in interesting designs and patterns, all sorts of shapes gracing his navel.

(He loves when you trace a fingers along the perimeter of the hair, his skin erupting into goosebumps at the feeling, his cock stirring to life because the tasing sensation is simply too much for him.)

He even takes the time to very carefully trim up his balls, wanting to make sure that everything is pristine and perfect when you touch him – he wants you to be impressed, after all, and he waits with baited breath the first time you see him nude, eyes watching your each and every expression because he wants to see exactly what you’re thinking and feeling.

(This happens every time he’s naked before you, even if it’s the hundredth time – he’ll even ask if you like what you see? Maybe you should taste it, too, to get the full picture.)

His cum is thick and tends to stay where it lands, often not dripping and instead just drying against your skin or lips or shirt or panties, wherever he feels the urge to finish. And he likes to mix it up – his favorite places are of course inside of you, your face, and your ass, but he’s game to try anything you’d like.

He likes to finish inside you when he’s feeling especially worn down or overwhelmed by his job, clutching onto you and groaning in your ear as he pushes himself as deeply as possibly and letting go, filling you with so much that it leaks out of you even with his cock still plugging you up.

He likes to finish on your face, too, because it’s just so dirty and taboo and you look so naughty when you’re looking up at him with your tongue lolled out, a flare of possessiveness and adrenaline making him feverishly fist his cock mere inches from your face, groaning out an uneven take it as he lands spurt after spurt in stripes across your face.

And of course, your ass – he loves to watch the fat bounce back against him as he fucks you, smacking at it and grabbing it in fistfuls, spreading your cheeks apart to get a better view of his cock fucking into you. And seeing it stained with his cum, even a bit dribbling down and settling into the folds and pockets of your cunt makes him whistle, giving himself just a few more strokes to ensure he’s given you every drop he can.

He’s loud when he’s finishing, always narrating what it feels like, groaning your name and even breathlessly laughing, still partially in awe because he’s fantasized about fucking you for so damn long, and you’re even better than he’d been hoping for. He also tends to thrust throughout the entirety of his orgasms, going even harder and faster, losing control for a few seconds because the pleasure is blinding him and driving him to fuck into you harder, faster, deeper, anything to prolong the pleasure your body is giving him.

His favorite way for you to touch his cock is when you’re giving him head while he reciprocates, in a somewhat modified 69 position. However, unlike the traditional, Tengen prefers to be on top of you – he likes the way he can hold onto your thighs, keeping you perfectly spread for him so that you can’t close him out or run when he gets you closer and closer.

Besides, the way he can (very) carefully thrust lightly down your throat from the angle gets his ears ringing, the sense of dominance he feels over you making him drool against your clit. He likes the depth he can get, and although he’s conscious of choking you, the small gagging noises you make when he goes just a hair too deep have precum dribbling against your tongue, his cock pulsing against your lips.

His favorite sexual experiences are when you’re both getting something out of it, and so he’s a big fan of pleasuring you simultaneously. But with this position he gets the most control, able to tease you and nose at your clit all the while letting his own pleasure steadily build.

And when he comes, something about the physical position makes him feel like he’s genuinely coming down your throat, cum settling against your uvula and dripping down your throat. It’s romantic, he thinks, and when your hands come up to grasp onto his thighs Tengen feels shivers roll down his spine because oh, you’re just so fucking cute.

He likes it, and when you pull off to take a small break, stroking at his cock, he likes when you run his tip along the outline of your lips, your cheeks, you jaw and collarbone, even your nipples if you can maneuver it. It makes him groan, licking long, flat stripes against your hole, a thumb working diligently, frantically at your clit because you’re getting him so very close and he needs you to come before he does.

It’s just a guilty pleasure of his, and while he won’t often request it, it’s his go-to when he’s been away from you for long missions, desperate to kiss you and taste you.

(And due to his near non-existent refractory period, it’s the warm up to fucking you good and proper.)

Sanemi’s overall thoroughly average in terms of length and girth, but the thing that sets him apart is how genuinely heavy his cock is. When you’re holding it in your palms, it weighs against your skin, feeling thick and intimidating, throbbing hard enough for you to feel. He’s got no experience before you, and when you first slowly exhale and marvel at his sheer weight, he grows embarrassed, terrified that you don’t like what you’re seeing.

(He won’t explicitly ask you if there’s something wrong with it, but he’s carefully watching your reactions, holding his breath and managing to mutter out a quit staring just to simply end the insecurity swimming in his chest.)

He’s scared that you’re disappointed, cheeks tinging pink and struggling to look you in the eye, but he’s putty in your hands the moment your skin touches his. When he’s got you bent over, hands groping and grabbing at every inch of your body that he can reach, you can feel how heavy he is inside of you, too – it’s impossible to ignore the way he’s bullying into you, stretching you and feeling like he’s practically in your throat with how overwhelming the sensation is.

Matching his length, a pair of sensitive balls sit firmly underneath his base, always a rosy pink color and twitching alongside his length when he’s especially hard. They’re extremely sensitive, however, and while Sanemi will never, ever tell you to stop touching him, you’ll see the way he clenches his fist and squeezes his eyes shut when you play with them just a hair too hard, the strained groan that falls from his lips sounding more pained than he wants it to.

He likes it though – you just have to be gentle, and if you really want to see him melt, gently suck on one and let your tongue loll around it like some sort of musky candy – it makes his cheeks go red, his lip stuck between his teeth and his hips twitching because oh fuck you look so damn good drooling all over him like that.

His cum is hot, and there’s a lot. He’s pent up – he doesn’t masturbate often, instead letting all the rage and irritation fester and channeling it into swinging his sword. And so, each time you touch him, Sanemi has so much to give you that it inevitably ends up leaking out of you.

If you’re on your knees for him, all pretty and staring up at him through doe-eyed lashes with pouty lips, he’s coming down your throat, grasping onto your hair and simply keeping you there, cum spilling out from the sides of your mouth because there’s simply too much and you can’t swallow quickly enough to keep up.

When he’s folding you into a mating press, mouth hot at your ear as he gasps and groans and growls, when he eventually calls out what vaguely sounds like your name in a slurred frenzy along with fuck and yes yes yes, he’s coming so much that it physically forces him out of your cunt, the sheer volume filling you up so well that there’s not even room for him.

And Sanemi absolutely loves to see you covered in it, too – he never suggests the idea because he doesn’t want it to feel disrespectful, but he absolutely loves to finish on your face. There’s something about the way you look underneath him, with your tongue lolling out and your palms pressing against his thighs as if bracing yourself that gets him throwing his head back, his orgasm ripping through him with enough force to leave his knees almost collapsing underneath him.

(And if you were to lick your lips and then reach out to lick him clean of every last drop? Well, please don’t say anything about the way he whimpers, a few sad, pathetic little spurts of cum ooze out, a last ditch attempt to give you absolutely everything he can.)

He’s a dribbler, cum oozing from the tip in a steady stream that never seems to end, and when he’s coming he always blindly reaches out to grab something to ground him. More often than not it’s you that he’s clutching onto, his grip tight enough to leave slight bruises (that he will feel incredibly guilty for the next morning). It’s to ground him, to remind him that you’re real, that you’re with him, that you’re not merely a figment of his imagination or some poor, pathetic stand-in that he can fuck and desperately pretend is you.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you’re seated on his lap, straddling him with nothing separating you. He loves fucking you, of course, something primal and animalistic in him satisfied with the knowledge that he’s claiming you from the inside out, but there’s something equally pleasurable – if not more so – about the intimacy of simply holding you and feeling your cunt slowly and steadily grind against him.

He wants both of you completely nude, your tits pressing against his chest and your lips attached to his and he slowly guides your hips, a hand clutching at either side as he brings you forward and back, the wetness of your folds coating him in a thick layer of you and letting him slide easier.

It’s heaven to him – the perfect vantage point, though he’s much too embarrassed to admit why. Truthfully, it’s because the position almost feels like you’re holding him – he’ll often just wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you as tightly against him as possible, listening to your heartbeat and trying to match the rhythm of his breathing with yours.

Often, if he’s feeling particularly vulnerable or if he’s just returned from a long, grueling mission, he’ll slip a nipple into his mouth, gently suckling and biting, closing his eyes and focusing on the way that you’re so very warm and soft in his arms.

It’s comfort thing, more than anything else, as if being with you in such a raw, intimate way means that he’s safe, comfortable, loved and wanted. It’s sappy and he’d rather die than admit it, but you’ll notice the way his eyes grow red, tears prickling at the corners because it just feels so damn good to hold you like this.

He’s a bit shorter than average, coming in just slightly under five inches, but Obanai has a pretty significant girth – significant enough to get you gasping the first time he fucks you, the feeling of being so stretched out leaving you gasping for air.

You’ll always be able to tell when he’s close to coming because everything literally throbs – you can feel him pulsing inside of you, the sensation making you squirm because it’s so very arousing but so very weird against your walls. And it’s a constant, too – from the moment he gets hard, it’s constantly pulsing against your palm, his cheeks bright red and embarrassment running through him but he just can’t stop, too turned on by the sight and smell and taste of you, and his body is betraying that.

He’s pale everywhere on his body, delicate skin that’s shockingly soft and so, so very sensitive – one touch against his chest gets him shivering, every nerve in his body feeling on fire because all he can focus on is the fact that you’re willingly touching him and you’re so much softer than he’s imagined.

(And he’s extensively imagined. Frequently.)

His cock is pale, too, with hardly any color differentiation from base to tip. As he gets near his orgasm, the tip turns a pinkish color, the blood rushing in and leaving him dizzy, and his entire navel area turns a pink color too. He’s pale enough that if you try hard enough you can even see a few of the near-surface veins dipping down under the tuft of dark hair on his navel. And it’s a rare occurrence that Obanai shaves – it’s not for lack of trying, but rather that he’s simply worried that he’ll look strange without the hair to cover himself, worried that you won’t like what you’ll see if you can see the entire expanse of him.

(He’s insecure that he’s not perfect enough for you – that his cock is too small or his balls are shaped strangely, and a single compliment about it from you will have him going wide-eyed, swallowed hard and a large, insistent glob of pre-cum oozing from his tip because oh god, do you really mean it?)

His cum is watery and, quite frankly, doesn’t taste great. It’s remarkably bitter – your face screws up the first time it lands on your tongue, the sight making Obanai shrivel up in embarrassment, mortified that you’ll no longer want to touch him.

(He immediately tries to change his diet to almost exclusively foods he thinks will make him taste better, even swallowing his pride and approaching Tengen about it, embarrassment making it difficult to spit out the words.)

He’s a shooter, the arc looking truly pornographic because he tends to throw his head back when he’s coming, eyes squeezed tightly shut and almost a grimace overcoming his features, all while hips jut out and cum practically pours out of him. He prefers finishing on your stomach, simply because there’s something about the sight of you stained white that makes his possessiveness flare up. If it’s a particularly powerful orgasm (as they all are, when you’re the one touching him), he’ll be out of breath, cheeks still flushed pink as he hovers over you, mesmerized and letting his thumb dip into the cum, smearing it across your skin.

He likes it best when the two of you finish at the same time – simultaneous orgasms, if only because Obanai knows that as you get closer you tend to reach out and grab for whatever is nearest to you, and he’ll purposefully maneuver himself so that you’re clutching onto him, the sight of you moaning for him and shaking hurtling him towards his own orgasm.

(He’ll often scoop up a bit of his own cum and your slick, mixing them together with his fingers, swallowing heavily and letting his finger brush against his tongue, eyes rolling to the back of his head because the taste of you together is making his cock throb again, slowly rising up to ninety degrees, desperate to give you more more more.)

His favorite way for you to touch him is a slow, intimate handjob. He’s typically a little bit harsh when he’s touching himself, his tugs leaving his arm sore, his fingers clutched so tightly around his shaft that it’s nearly suffocating. And yet, when it’s your fingers wrapped around him, Obanai finds that there’s something indescribably sensual and passionate about the soft, slow strokes you give him. The softness of your fingers combined with the way you carefully, almost hesistantly grip him leaves his head spinning, the pleasure somehow feeling much more acute despite the lessened stimulation.

He likes the way your thumb comes up often to brush over slit, collected the precum and letting it guide your hand up and down, up and down, his toes curling and his fists clenching because you’re being such a damn tease, making his hips buck up over and over.

And there’s something about the eye contact that gets him panting – the attention leaves him squirming as you let your eyes rest on him, the intensity making every brush of your fingers against his sensitive skin amplify a thousand times.

He wants you to talk to him, to let your voice get all low, to call him all sorts of possessive petnames that only fluster him more, a pointed thrust against your fist with each name. My pretty boy is his favorite, even as embarrassing as it is, and if you lean in and kiss along his collarbone and jaw, complimenting him about his looks, his ability to care for you, how he makes you feel he’s immediately gasping, abs clenching wildly and his balls visibly clenching as he paints your hand white with cum, the liquidy consistency making it run down your knuckles like rivers, dripping down onto your thighs and making Obanai suck in a breath because fuck fuck fuck you’re still going and it’s so sensitive, too sensitive but he doesn’t want you to ever ever stop-

He wants to feel cared for, wanted, loved, and even something as simply as you jerking him off with a few well-timed flutter of your lashes and purred words leave him putty in your hands.

It’s big and Gyomei knows it. Easily a solid seven inches and thick enough to leave your fingers barely touching when you wrap them around his girth, even when he’s not fully hard. The skin is slightly tanner than the rest of him, with his tip flushing into an even darker shade matching the two low, heavy balls that sit snugly underneath his shaft, hefty enough to feel substantial in your palms as you cup and squeeze at them.

Tufts of dark hair decorate his navel, the curls thick and almost coarse, tickling your nose as you take him down your throat and tickling your clit as you oh so slowly inch your way down on his lap. Even the sight of him flaccid makes you suck in a sharp breath, nerves starting to eat away at you because there’s absolutely no fucking way it’s fitting inside of you. It just looks too heavy and big and full, veins protruding along the sides in enough detail that you can practically see them pulsing.  

And really, your fears aren’t unwarranted – Gyomei can feel the movement with every step he takes, the sensation of his cock brushing against his undergarments and his balls pressed against his thigh always leaving him slightly uncomfortable, always consciously aware of the feeling. (He’s extremely grateful for the loose nature of the Demon Slayer Corps uniform pants – otherwise, the bulge would be unbearably visible, even when he’s completely soft.)

All things considered, it takes Gyomei a long time to orgasm. He’s not terribly sensitive (not for a lack of experience – he has none, he’s just genuinely not the type to immediately buck his hips and gasp at the slightest bit of stimulation), but finds that steady, consistent pleasure is the golden ticket to finding his high.

Specifically, pleasure that involves a lot of lubricant: spit, slick, hell, even blood when you’re on your period and needing something to help relieve the pressure. He likes how smooth it all is – the slick schluck schluck sound of him rolling his hips into yours makes his knees weak, the wet feeling of your cunt clenching down on him enough to get him groaning lowly and grasping onto your hips hard enough to almost leave bruises. He’ll refuse to fuck you until you’re absolutely dripping, wet to the point of insanity because he’s been fingering you for what feels like hours and you can’t handle the teasing anymore.

It’s only then, after he’s brought you to your high some three times with his tongue and the pads of his index fingers that he’ll finally, finally press inside, moving slowly and chanting what sounds like prayers intermixed with your name under his breath, almost as if you’re some god he’s thanking over and over for the feeling of you.

It takes him a while to get off, but there’ll be a few signs that he’s getting close – his thrusts turn from deep, slow, almost tentative, to quicker and more clipped, the actions somehow feeling needier and more desperate because he’s holding you in place and his breath is stuttered as he gasps and exhales, pleasure hitting him like a tidal wave and sending his eyes rolling back.

He produces an almost obscene amount of cum with every orgasm, ropes spilling out in long, rather impressive spurts. It’s thick, almost viscous, leaving a residue against your skin that he’ll oftentimes idly rub at when he’s pulled you against his chest, cock still nestled inside you as tears flow down his cheeks from the intensity of it all. It’s bitter, almost earthy, and while Gyomei doesn’t expect you to swallow, you’ll be earned with the smallest, quietest little whimper once he hears you audibly gulping.

His favorite way for you to touch his cock is when you’re simply riding him. There’s something about the way you grip him in this position that makes his toes curl, his voice getting a hair deeper because it just feels too good. He likes the way you control the pace – sex feels better to him when you feel good, and having you dictate the speed, angle, and depth gives Gyomei an insight into exactly what you like.

(And he’s committing every detail to memory – the sounds you’re making, the way your nails bite into his chest as you steady yourself, the way your ass bounces against his thighs over and over, the tensing of your legs as his tip brushes against that spot that makes you gasp and moan his name…)

He likes the way he can feel more of you in this position, too – the curve of your ass pressing against his balls, the slight pressure pinching and giving him just the slightest bit of pain that makes blood rush south, cock throbbing inside of you because god he wants you to go even harder.

He can feel your stomach pressed against his navel when you lean forward in this position, your muscles growing tired and starting to give out, the softness of your skin against the overly sensitive area right above his shaft making him grasp onto your hips and thrust upwards, meeting you halfway and mumbling out your name as you whine.

It just feels more intimate this way – like you’re using him, like his body is just a tool for your pleasure. And really, that’s exactly how Gyomei sees it – his cock is your cock, and he’ll thank the heavens each and every time you so much as look at it.