#V belt problems

[everlastingserenitys]

HAVE YOU EVER TRIED...THIS ONE? ♡

summ. sabrina’s eiffel tower pose with a twist of course

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, caleb, rafayel

cw. threesomes, oral, p in v, jealousy (xavier ofc), very sensitive men, creampie, virgin!rafayel, dirty talk, competition (Caleb and Xavier lol), pet names

a/n. im feeling so sick sorry if this is a little sloppy haha, sorry for double sylus

SYLUS & ZAYNE ⋆˚࿔

“can we try this?”

“No.” sylus and zayne said in unison.

But of course, they gave in.

'cause the next thing you knew, you were bent over between the two men. zayne was behind you while sylus was in the front. the space between the men was suffocating, and you practically had your face nuzzled on sylus' boner while your ass was mere inches away from touching zaynes.

a shaky sigh escaped zayne's lips and sylus let out a chuckle, his fingers glide through your hair before he pulls your head up to look at him.

"seems like you're asking for more than just 'trying' this pose?" sylus teased. you shrug and sylus peers his gaze to zayne.

"what d'ya think zayne? should we give her more?"

"if that's what she wants..." zayne mumbled, snaking his frail fingers around your waist to pull you closer. a whine escaped your lips and you quickly nod.

"alright." sylus whispered, unbuckling the belt of his pants, while zayne did the exact same thing. zayne slipped down your pants in a swift movement and pressed his warm creamy head against your soaking cunt while sylus only shoved half his tip inside your mouth.

your fingers immediately make contact with sylus’ thighs, gripping them in a respectful manner as your lips perfectly wrap around his large length. sylus let out a menacing groan as he pulled your head back and forth, back and foortthh–

just as you were getting used to the pleasure of sylus' cock buried deep in your mouth. zayne's length pushes himself deeper inside your puffy folds. his pace quickened and you felt like you were going to cum any second now.

"'m mma um!" you try to warn, but sylus' cock was making it difficult for you to speak. you close your eyes shut as you felt both cocks ramming inside you in an unsynchronized pattern.

"what was that–ngh sweetie?"

"'m close." zayne whimpered, his fingers digging deep in your already bruised hips as he lets out one final thrust before he mistakenly came right inside you.

a loud moan escaped your lips when you felt zayne continuing to ram his cock inside you, even after he came. his creamy tip slicked his cum in and out of your tight cunt and before you knew it, you also came at the impact.

zayne pulled out breathlessly and sylus pulled out moments later. you pant heavily as you try to catch your breath from the crazy fucking sex you had.

just when you thought you we're done, sylus pressed his soaking tip against your lips, mind you, again, and a stupid smirk rested against his lips.

"im not done yet, finish me off?"

XAVIER & CALEB

when you showed the two of them the pose you wanted to try, of course Caleb agreed.

but now that Caleb agreed, that meant Xavier had no other choice but to also agree. as much as he didn't want to do it, he didnt want you and Caleb to be the only one to do that stupid pose.

but one little problem was the two of them fighting over who would get to go in the back.

it had been nearly ten minutes and none of them chose a side yet. you were still standing in the middle of both of them, waiting for them to choose a side.

"just take turns, dont make this difficult than it already is." you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Caleb nods and struts behind you. Xavier mumbles something incoherent under his breath and presses himself on your face. a chuckle was heard from behind you, and god, you could imagine the look on Calebs face.

a quiet scowl was heard from Xavier and he slid his fingers through your hair, "Caleb 's my turn now" Xavier asked in the nicest voice possible, but what did Caleb do?

"mm its barely been five minutes though? why not wait a bit longer?" Calebs voice was filled with mockery, which only made Xavier the slightest bit angrier, except he tried to not show it that much.

"buutt since I'm here now, and clearly my pipsqueak didnt just ask us to just try this pose, might as well make up for my time." Calebs sinister voice echoed through the room before his fingers slid under the waistband of your pants before pulling them down.

"so that's how you want to play, huh?" Xavier scoffed, his fingers resting against the waistband of his pants before also pulling them down. you look up and was met with Xaviers soaking boxers on display for you.

"uh-"

but you didn't even get a chance to finish your sentence before Xavier carefully shoved his length in your mouth. your eyes widened in shock and you swirl your tongue around his tip, while also pushing yourself back and forth.

"look at that..." Xavier mumbled, his bored sleepy eyes peered at Caleb who just let out a chuckle in response and lowered his fingers against your dripping cunt, slowly stretching out your folds before he slid a finger in, stroking you in a quick movement.

once he thought it was enough, Caleb slid his dripping fingers out of your cunt and aligned himself with you. his creamy tip made contact with your pussy and he slowly pushed himself inside you.

"mmh 's been a while since I had this" Caleb tilted his head back as he rammed himself into you, Xaviers gaze darkens and he quickens quicker in your mouth.

"mgh?!" a surprised moan slipped from your lips when you felt both cocks ram inside you like as if they were competing in a race to see which was better, and clearly you had no idea which to choose because both were making you feel too good.

"c'mon pipsqueak y-you like thisss?" Caleb asked.

and of course, out of instinct, you nodded.

which definitely caused a reaction from Xavier.

"oh you like that?" Xavier mocked, burying his cock deep in your throat, he was practically balls deep inside your mouth and you felt like both your lips were going to rip apart any second now.

"shit, close... 'm close!" Caleb whines, thrusting himself even deeper, despite the fact he felt like he was going to cum any second now. a desperate whine escaped your lips and you felt Xaviers grip tighten around your hair as he pushes your head back and forth even quicker, seeking for release before Caleb could.

and so the two men eventually reached climax, at the exact same time, no point in competing in that anyway.

SYLUS & RAFAYEL

"sy! raf! c'mere lets try this!"

well, sylus only knew about what you were attempting to try, which was to get rafayel to do something to you. so this was your little plan you and sylus thought of.

first, show the pose like it was some innocent little thing, then make rafayel a little stimulated and eventually he'll go wild and lose his virginity to you, tonight! easy right?

well, both sylus and rafayel examined the video and rafayel looked a little skeptical, but after sylus agreed, rafayel decided to eventually give in.

"I'll be in the fr–"

"no. you go to the back." sylus interrupted.

a shaky sigh left rafayel's lips and he hesitantly snaked behind you, lingering himself just mere inches away from your dolled up tiny skirt. all he had to do was just don't look, don't look, don't loo–

well, fuck.

'cause now his stupid bluey-red eyes lingered down your bare legs, his gaze lowering each second and before he could continue sylus let out a 'tsk' to awake him from his daze.

rafayel shook his head and looked back at sylus, quickly apologizing.

you got in position and bent yourself between the two men, your ass brushed against rafayels boner and he let out a gasp, "h-hey! watch it!" a hint of whimpering laced his voice and you just chuckle in response.

"relax raf, its part of the pose." you taunt but he just scoffed in response, now comes the fun part.

"raf, you can do more than just stare like that." sylus said.

"whaatt I wasn't even!" but rafayels fingers couldn't control themself, this was his first time anyway, and he has been wanting to do this with you for a while now, but why was he just so nervous?

he raised your skirt up your laced panties were on display for him, he licked his lips before slipping a finger under and pulling your panties down.

"you know what to do next?"

"I know. i'm not stupid."

and rafayel was definitely not stupid. he did the perfect prepping before he could put himself in you. and when that time came, he was a bit worried but after a bit of time he pressed his soaking tip against your cunt.

"like--ngh this?"

"mm, keep going. sweetie how're you feeling?"

"goo-ungh!"

rafayel pushed himself deeper in you, his cock was stretching you out inch by inch and you felt like you were going to rip apart any second now. instinctively, you arch your back further and spread your legs wider, giving more space for rafayel to pummel himself deeper in you.

"shiitt... 's suppose to feel this good?" rafayel murmured, ramming himself in you in a quicker movement, his tip reaching your cervix on every thrust and you felt pleasure spike through you every. single. time.

"if you go too quick, you're going to come quickly. why not savour the moment you have?"

"mm, t'good...cant." rafayel tilted his head back, his nails digging deep in your hips as he thrusted the last he thrust he could before spurs of white mixture sprawled out of him, coating your insides.

as he pulled away, you fell to your knees, feeling his cum drip down your pussy like a waterfall, you chuckle and look up at sylus who had a small smile plastered on his face before he looked at rafayel.

"how was that rafayel?"

"good...more would be soo nice right now" he mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

tried to do diff dynamics LMAO

[tauvesims]

UNAPOLOGETIC - CLOTHING SET

You will get:

Tie top

10 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Buttons V blouse

14 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

American football shirt

9 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Belt mini skirt

12 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Sporty shorts

12 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Mule heels

8 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Belt boots

7 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Cross necklace

7 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

Square bracelet

6 Swatches | HQ Compatible

Female Frame | Teen - Elder

New mesh | All lods

Custom thumbnails

some ground rules:

do not- claim them as your own

do not- upload them anywhere for download (please)

do- @ me so i can see you!

do- lmk if you have ANY problems

Also, a big thank you to azahhyat, trashbunzy, rosiewhimz  and angelicalsims for modelling!

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

DOWNLOAD (EA: 12/24)

DOWNLOAD BLENDER VER (only available for my 3rd tier)

[erensbrat]

contains : female!reader,afab,bdsm, p in v, sex,cunnilingus,praise,spanking,afab,cursing,dubcon,bratty reader and some other things ;-;

written with black female readers in mind,but any other race can read 💗

Eren SPOILED you.

And while that was a good thing for you, it wasn’t quite the case for him.

It turned you into a brat.

He knew how to handle you,

However, it didn’t do him much good to see his sweet, sweet girl sobbing under him, apologies spilling out of you.But it couldn’t be helped,

And thats how you ended up here.

Eren was working from home, in the living room with his laptop in his lap while you sat next to him.You were scrolling through instagram and saw a pair of heels that were very pretty,you had already come up with the fits you would match the heels with, deciding to show Eren so he could buy them for you, only to be met with a flat

“No.”

no? that was very foreign to you.

“But whyyyyy, ‘s so cute ‘ren, whatdoyoumean no?” You pouted, tears threatening to spill from your eyes after facing rejection.

He spoke up again, not taking his eyes off of the laptop infront of him.

“The heel is too high nd way too thin.You’ll complain that they hurt your feet n I’m not spending 4 grand on heels you’ll only wear once.”

And then the tears began to roll,you were not trying to hear that. You wanted a yes.

“Fuck you Eren, I can’t believe this. I thought you loved me n wanted to see me happy.” You sniffed

“Y/n, watch your mouth.”

You kissed your teeth n stormed off into the bedroom rambling about how annoying he was and how he was ‘too fucking broke to get some heels for his girlfriend’, it didn’t really phase him though, he knew you would come around sooner or later. Until a word was said. A word he had specifically warned you to never use around him let alone use at all.

You had called him a ‘fucking bitch’

and as soon as it left your mouth, you HOPED he didn’t hear you.

And unfortunately for you, he did.

He heard you loud and clear.

Eren silently closed his laptop before making his way over to the room.

And when he opened it, he was met with your tear stained face.

You looked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights while his green eyes glared at you.

“Repeat what you just said. Verbatim.”

his voice was stern, and a pool of arousal formed between your thighs.

“m sorry ‘ren, i didn’t mean-”

“Thats not what i asked, was it?”

“…”

if you calling him out of his name didnt piss him off enough, your silence certainly did.

“If i have to ask you again,we’re gonna have a problem y/n.”

“um, I called you a fucking bitch..” you repeated lowly, so the impact wouldn’t be as harsh as it did when it first came out of your mouth, ultimately failing as Eren’s eyes darkened after hearing it again.

He leaned against the door frame,squinting at you.

“I didn’t know my girl had such a foul mouth.”

“I don’t..” a bit of attitude present in your speech, his head tilted,which was a sign, a warning to fix what you just said.

“it won’t happen again ‘ren, i promise”

“Of course it won’t, i’ll make sure of it.”

yeahhh you were in for it now.

“Face down, ass up on the bed. Don’t waste my time.”

and you obeyed, because god knows what would’ve happened if you didn’t.

Your body was arched on the bed n Eren stood behind after getting his belt from the closet.

He tied your hands to the headboard with his belt and began to take off the light pink miniskirt you wore, leaving you in your white cropped tee n white floral stockings that matched your laced underwear

n then

WHACK

his hand strikes the plush of your ass.

“You know why i have to do this, right baby?”

you nodded, only to be met with another smack on the same place.

“Use your words y/n, you know better than that.” He replied sternly,

“Yes Eren, I do” you cried

“y’kno i love you, and y’need to learn that I won’t be taking yer bullshit.Now, count f’me kay?”

“..okay”

WHACK

you yelped as tears started to roll down your face from the sting.

“onee” you croaked

and it kept going until you had counted to 6.

“How many times did i spank you?”He asked

But your memory had gotten hazy, being overstimulated from the sting on your ass.

“idontrememberrrrr” you choked.

“Oh? So we have to start again th-”

“no, no please” you sobbed

“I think it was’um 6”

he chuckled at your voice getting whiny

“didya guess baby?” he asked, voice low and gruff

you quickly shook your head “uhn’uhn”

“mhmmm” he mumbled,unconvinced

He slapped your clothed cunt a few times before tearing it off of you.

and then he began to eat. and he was MESSY.

“haah, ohhh shit ‘renn”

you breathed out,face still pressed against the sheets of your bed.

Eren lapped up your clit,his tongue circled before dropping to your hole, tongue fucking your heat.

“nggghh errreeennnn fuuuucckkk” you moaned

you started throwing it back onto his mouth craving that extra stimulation.

“shit you taste s’good” he whined into your pussy while palming himself through his sweatpants.

He continued to sloppily eat you out,spitting on your cunt and wrapping his mouth around your heat.He was so dirty.

“baby s’tooomuchhhh i cant- fuhhckk take it anymore,erennn”

“shut that shit up n take it” he spoke into your pussy n went back to eating.

your tied hands wrapped together as you tried to escape him, but he dragged you back to him, pushing the small of your back down to deepen your arch.

“You tryna run away baby?”

his question flew over your head and you blabbed incoherently while sobbing n the knot in your stomach formed making your hole clench.

“eren ‘m boutta fuckk, ‘m cominggg dont stohhhhpp”

and you threw it back onto him harder, nearing your climax.

But then it stopped.

Eren’s mouth was no longer on your pussy.

“‘m cominggg dont stoppp” he mocked and you frowned

“You think brats like you deserve to come?”

“eren im sorryyy pleaseee” you pathetically sobbed into the sheets, words coming out muffled.

“Please what?” He chuckled

His hands wrapped around your throat, pulling your head up so he could get an answer.

“I’m sorry ‘ren it won’t happen again”

You had ignored the question, just blabbing out your sweet pleas of an apology.

oh his dumb little girl.

“How many times did i spank you?”

This question again,

“s-six”

“Six spanks for Six rounds, and you better not come unless i say you can.”

This heartless bastard.

“youre bein unfairrr” you weeped

Eren payed no mind to what you said, fully ignoring you.However,he decided to be a bit nice,untying the belt around your wrist.

He released his hardened dick from his pants,he stroked it then rubbed it against your sloppy folds before easing into your hole.

the sharp stretch with no prep had your eyes rolling back,grabbing the sheets tight, till your knuckles turned white.

“s-so fucking hah tight.”

you moaned, almost screaming in response

“Eren take sumouttt nghhh”

“Nah,f-fuck take this uhhh take this shit.”

and he started to thrust into you, relentlessly.Your ass rippled onto his hips creating a ‘smack’ sound that bounced off the walls.

“fucking. talking. to. me. crazy, didn’t i teach you about that bitch word?” every word followed a thrust, and then he hit that spot, he knew he had found it when your mouth hung agape and your head hung back, and he hit it repeatedly.

“i’m sorrryyyyyy daddyyyy fuhhhccckk” you wailed

You moved your hand back trying to push him away, but the brunette was way stronger than you, not moving an inch.He slapped your hand away,digging his nails into your hips,moans leaving his mouth.

“shitttt, y’r sucking me in so nicely hmm?”

you murmured into the sheets

“oh my goooooddd y’r s’deep” you sobbed, turning your head back to meet Eren’s.

Your eyes met his green ones , and he lazily smiled at you while you dropped your head back down.

“daddyy ‘m gonna ungghh come,i said im sorryyyy i learnt my les- lesson pleaseeeee”

“yeah? you’ve learnt your lesson huh?”

“mhmmm, ill be good i promise”

“cream on this dick then,fuckkk”

youre eyes rolled back,releasing onto eren, but he continued to fuck you through your orgasm,throwing you into overstimulation.

You gripped the sheets HARD , screaming into the bed while your whites dripped onto the sheet below you

“Eren waittttt, i can’t take it oh my gooodddd”

your legs started to shake violently and you arch started to falter,while his thrusts picked up the pace

“boutta to nut baby, where do you want it?”

You couldn’t respond, head lolling back as you clenched around him,

WHACK

“Don’t make me ask again, where do you want it?”

“i-insidee”

“inside?” he chuckled

you dumbly nodded your head quickly in response , high pitched moans answering along with your nods.

“You want me to breed this pussy? Wanna become a mommy? Hmm?”

“yes erenn fuck!! make a mommy ‘ren”

you spewed, not even paying attention to the words coming out of your mouth.

“but why should I? D-don’t want my child having a brat for a mommy.”

“‘m not a brat nnggh” you spat back quickly only to have wind knocked out of your lungs as Erens thrusts deepened.He was getting talkative which meant he was near climax.

“You’re not?“ he asked,genuinely confused at your answer.

you shook your head, words now become incoherent again, blabbing about how eren was being mean.

“Fuck I’m coming”

His nut painted your walls,almost spilling out of you before he fucked it back into you with slow thrusts.

You collected your breath knowing there was 5 more rounds waiting for you, wishing you never showed him the heels in the first place.

“turn around, on your back.”

and you obeyed, flipping around to lie on you back.

he patted your thighs, “spread these wideee f’me kay?”

“o-okay”

he wrapped his hand around your throat inserting his length into you slowly, painfully slow.

you whined under him, gripping the sheets.

n then he started to move again, thrusting into you deeper than he did last round.

“y’kno i love you right baby?” he asked through breathy moans

“yes daddy n i luhv y���tew” you sniffed

“then why did you call me a bitch hmm? Daddy didn’t get you the heels ‘cause he was lookin out f’ya. Didn’t wan’yer feet to get sore.”

he picked up the pace, making you choke out a moan.

“‘m sorryyy” you cried

“I’m sure you are” he laughed, hands still wrapped around your neck.

He threw your foot over your shoulder,n your anklet w his name engraved on it rested on his shoulder.He was hitting that spot again, tip bruising it over and over again.

“s’deeeppppp, why are you fucking me like disssssuhhh” you sobbed,drool spilling out of your mouth “y/n don’t be dumb with me.Y’know exactly why you’re here” you freed your hand from gripping the sheets in a pathetic attempt to to push him off of you, but he released his hands from your throat to grab your wrist, pinning them above your head.

“why you tryna run away again? You don’t wanna take your punishment?”

“I can’t take it anymore, ‘ren m gonna fuhhcckk”

“y’not coming this time, Hold it.”

you started to sob under him “why are you being so mean to me?”

“need my baby to understand i don’t tolerate disrespect. n she’s gon learn today. Where’d you learn that bitch word hm? Cause it certainly wasn’t from me.”

Your eyes started to roll back, succumbing to your unconsciousness until you felt hard smacks to your ass.

“Answer the question. Was it your little friends? The ones i told you to stop hanging around?”

Eren hated your friends,he told you they were a bad influence and they would get you introuble, you ignored him though because you loved them and you knew they wouldn’t do that to you.

You quickly shook your head,lying to him. In truth, everytime they had an argument with their s/o , they would curse them out calling them a “broke ass bitch”

Your head pushed into the mattress, mouth hanging agape as you felt the knot in your stomach form again forgetting what Eren had previously said.

“Eren ‘m gonna-“

“Fucking hold it.”

“but I cannnttuuhhh” you cried,drool spilling out of your mouth

“I wont tell you again.”

You pouted,squeezing your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

“look at me baby” he cooed,pinning your wrists with one hand while the other went back to the previous placement, wrapped around your throat.

You tried to open your eyes to look at him,but they immediately rolled to the back of your head when Eren started thrusting EVEN DEEPER.

“your s’pretty, fuck. Whose pussy is this?”

“yours daddyy” you sobbed pitifully

“yeahhh? y’not gon call me a bitch e-ever again ?”

“noooo ‘m sorry daddyyyy , ‘won’t call you that ever againnn”

“you promise not to curse at me again?”

“yessss” you choked out “i promise ‘ren”

“thats my girlll, come on this dick baby”

His thrusts, once again, picked up the pace, tip bruising your g-spot which resulted in your second orgasm of the day.

4 left to go.

After the intense event that occurred yesterday night, you had woken up in your bed, fresh sheets as Eren changed them yesterday after giving you much needed aftercare.The bed was empty as Eren had to leave for work,and you had been knocked out for quite a while. You checked your phone that lay on your nightstand for the time to see a text from

“rennie💗”

‘Got you something, it’s on the kitchen counter.’

‘left you some paracetamol on the nightstand aswell.’

‘have a good day baby, I love you 🩷’

You smiled at the text message, sending a quick. ‘i love you too 🩷’ back to him.

You took the drugs n proceeded to walk wobble down the stairs to the kitchen to see a gift bag on the counter.You peeped inside, a white box, a victoria secret bag and a card sitting patiently in the box bag.

a white box that read ‘Jimmy Choo’

the shoes you had shown Eren yesterday

with a pink victoria secret lingerie set.

The card read

“Even though you were being a brat yesterday, you took me so nicely.Had to reward my girl. Go take some pictures for me okay?”

You smiled doing a little happy dance before scurrying back to the room with your new set to take some pictures for Eren.

Even though you became a brat because of his spoiling, he loved seeing you happy. And he didn’t mind having to remind you how to behave when you acted unaccordingly.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Needy | Thunderbolts*!Bucky x Female Reader| Oneshot 1.1k

Bucky needs to leave for a mission, but you need him back between your legs. Maybe there's time for both?

Warnings: 18+ for adult content! P in v, unprotected sex, little bit of exibitionism kink, creampie, armour kink/hero worship if you squint. Hint of Thunderbolts spoilers, if you know you know.

HBS Week 3 -: “Not now!” | [Heat/Rut | Rushed Sex | Exhibitionism]

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Hot Bucky Summer | Bucky Barnes

"Babydoll, I've got to go." Bucky bent down to put his combat boots on, pulling the laces tight and tucking them in the top, no time for neat army knots. It gave you the perfect view of his shoulders though, rounded by muscle and trapped beneath his tight t-shirt.

You bit your lip.

"But Bucky," you pouted, "please, just quickly, I'm gonna miss you so so much." You dragged each syllable.

"God, don't do that face at me — or that." He gestured to where you lay on your bed, sprawled over the sheets biting the end of your finger as you spread your bare legs slowly.

"Why?" You asked, innocently, batting your lashes and earning yourself a growl of disapproval. God that growl did things to you, made your heart beat faster in your chest (between your legs).

"You know damn well why, I have to go." He said, shrugging his leather jacket on and checking each of his holsters in turn, knives at the small of his back, guns in his chest holster and at his thigh, a few bits of new tech stored alongside his fingerless gloves in his pockets. Bucky brushed his long hair back from his face, one hand on his hip as he surveyed the top of the dresser as if a rouge dagger may have escaped him.

"You've got a few minutes," you let your hand trail down your chest, fingers spreading over your wet folds and parting them so Bucky could see your sticky arousal.

"If I get back in that bed I want more than a few minutes." He allowed himself a smirk, winking before checking his watch and his earpiece.

"Oh, well, if it's the bed that's the problem..." You happily bounced up from the bed and jumped at him. Instinctively Bucky opened his arms, lifting you under your thighs so you could wrap yourself around him.

"You're making this so hard." He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder and kissing your neck.

"Ohhh, I hope so," you giggled back, squirming enough that you could rub yourself against the rough contours of his tactical gear. "Do you know how sexy you look like this, all scary and mean with all your weapons. Makes me just wanna —" you didn't finish your sentence, closing your eyes and moaning instead.

"Fuck — " Bucky whispered into your neck, already relishing and regretting his next actions.

"That's the plan big guy —" you rubbed your hands over his shoulders and down his pecs where his skin tight t-shirt moulded to every contour. "God damn it just look at you." You pressed your fingers into the muscle, desperate to feel his body without anything in the way.

Bucky slipped his metal fingers between you, pushing his tactical belt up and his zipper down, just enough to free his cock from the confines of his underwear.

"Yes — yes — yes—" You were squirming so hard he could barely get enough purchase to push inside of you, but then he was in, helping to guide you down his hard length at an agonisingly slow pace. "Oh — fuck — Bucky you fuck me so good, baby, thank you." You babbled incoherently, happy enough just to have him back between your legs. Wrapped around him you could feel every inch of his cock, his hard body, the hilts of his knives cold against your calves, the guns that bumped your knees when you moved. "I fucking love you, Bucky Barnes, so fucking sexy and — and — ugh — you're my hero —" you tried to move in his grasp, a slow up and down thrust.

"Okay, Babydoll, no messing about." He started a quick pace, keeping his fingers between you to rub at your clit, driving you quickly towards release with relentless precision. His vibranium thumb was cool, the perfect contrast to the burning heat you felt pumping through your body.

KNOCK

"Hey — Bucky, I think everyone's going." Bob's soft voice floated through the door.

"Just a minute." Bucky clenched his jaw and focused his gaze on you,piercing and perfect. You clenched around him, having Bucky's full attention was always delicious but knowing he was needed elsewhere, and he'd chosen you, was the cherry on the cake.

"Don't go, baby."

KNOCK KNOCK

"Bucky, hurry up I don't want to have to sit next to John on the transport."

Ava called, her boots already echoing down the hall along with John's grumbling.

"Buh — Buh —" You keened against him, body flush at both Bucky's ministrations and the thought that the entire team were just on the other side of the door.

Bucky pushed you up against the wall, half holding you up so he could speed up his pace and you pressed your face into his leather jacket, scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders and neck where his hair had grown longer.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Bucky, it is time for us to go now, let's go."

"FUCK OFF." Bucky shouted, his voice mingling with the sound of Yelena's chuckling.

He pushed you higher, holding you open while he fucked up into you. Helpless you gasped, letting your mouth fall open as you watched him chase your body towards release.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Mr Winterrrr, we must go, save the day time, let us hurry to glory!"

Bucky moved again, tipping you back on the bed, your legs up over his shoulders, he bent down and kissed you, messy and deep, "you gotta cum now, Babydoll, I'm not kidding - I've gotta go."

"Bucky! Tell me to cum again — oh my god — make me cum!" You twitched around him, so close.

"Cum, now, Babydoll, cum on my cock right now." He used that low, gravelly tone again and your couldn't control yourself any longer.

You screamed your release, clenching around him as he throbbed between your legs and you grinned at the feel of your combined release slipping out between you.

Bucky panted, hard, and pinched your cheeks between his vibranium fingers, "god I love you, I'll be back soon." He kissed you quickly, stuffing himself back into his combat trousers and heading for the door.

"Love you too, Bucky-baby, be back soon!" You stood at the door of your room, wrapped in just the sheet from your bed, and waved at him as he half-jogged backwards towards the others, eyes still on you.

"Hey, Barnes, what's that on your trousers." John pointed at a drying white smear of your arousal, stark on the matt black of the fabric.

"Not now, John, we've got a mission." Bucky slapped him on the back and strode up to the waiting helicopter.

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⋆˙⟡ Study Break.

Short Summary: there is one simple rule. No distractions while he is studying. But what happens when you have been craving his touch all week long and he hasn’t given you an ounce of attention?

Warnings: 18+ only! somewhat rough sex, choking, hair pulling, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, slight begging, needy!reader

A/N: when is it my turn?

wordcount: 1,2k

He’s told you to be patient.

To wait until he is done studying.

But it’s been hours, and you swear by now you have memorized every single word of the books he’s stored in his dorm.

You have never understood how someone could study and revise for hours on end without getting tired of it, but Tom has always been, let’s say—special.

For the past week his attention has been entirely dedicated to his textbooks, barely having spent time with you at all. His grades have always come first for him, no matter if it’s you or his friends in question. Tom does let you stay with him during his exam preparations, with the only instruction being not to distract him.

And until now, you have been following this rule without any exceptions.

However, the lack of attention he has given you has kept you from studying. Every time you try to sit down and revise, your mind wanders elsewhere. So, after another failed attempt, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You’ve been with him for the entire afternoon, running your hand through his dark curls, trying to ease the tension in his muscles with your fingertips, rubbing soothing circles into his back—anything you do, he doesn’t grant you more than soft hums and short, clipped answers to anything you ask him.

Filled with frustration, you lean back against the wall as you sit down on top of his work desk. One of his hands comes to rest on your bare thigh, just below the hem of your skirt, the other writing down the recipe and brewing steps for the Polyjuice Potion, which you swear is the millionth time today.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips, getting ready to leave. If he wasn’t even going talk to you, he would be no assistance in easing your frustration either. You finally decide to take care of your “problem” yourself.

As you scoot closer to the edge of the desk, Tom places his quill on the parchment, getting up from his chair before he stops you, standing in between your parted legs.

“What is it that you want?” He finally asks, his tone laced with exhaustion and slight annoyance.

A smile forms on your face, and your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer before you press a kiss to his lips.

“Your attention.” You drawl, meeting the intensity of his dark brown eyes. “It’s been three hours, Tom. I am sure a little break wouldn’t hurt.”

He raises a brow at your words, his eyes flickering with a hint of understanding. His breath is hot against your skin as he leans in, trailing kisses from your jaw to your neck. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tilting your head to grant him better access to your neck. 

“Like this? Is this what you’ve wanted all this time?” He purrs, one of his hands slipping beneath the fabric of your skirt, fingertips brushing over your thighs as they wander higher, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

All you manage is a nod followed by a sharp hiss as you feel the feather-light touch of his thumb brushing over your still-clothed cunt, humming lowly when he feels your already soaked panties.

“Fuck, you really are pathetic.”

Before you even get to react, he helps you off the desk, spinning you around and bending you over the cold, rough wood, the hard edge of the desk biting into your hip bones. His hands make quick work of your skirt’s zipper, leaving the cotton material pooling at your ankles, followed by your lace panties.

Tom doesn’t waste much time, mere seconds later wrapping the leather of his belt around your wrists, tying them behind your back. Time’s tight, attention for you very, very limited—and he lets you know it in his own way.

He normally isn’t one to do this, quick sex without any real reason behind it, he likes taking his time with you, teasing you until you are practically begging for him to fuck you.

But now—his cock is pressed against your thigh, painfully hard, tip glistening with precum. He slips between your folds, sliding up and down, once, twice, brushing over your clit so lightly you barely feel it, yet it sends a jolt of electricity through your body, whimpering a small “please” as you buck your hips against the heat of his touch.

His knee nudges your legs further apart and you obey, eager to finally feel him inside of you.

“Mmm, would you look at that. All pretty and spread open. You are aching for me, aren’t you?” He croons, thumb circling your entrance but never actually pushing inside.

“Tom, please—“ you whine, and he ultimately gives in.

“Very well.”

Aligning himself with your entrance, he pushes inside with a singular sharp thrust, drawing a small whimper from your lips at the sudden sharp stretch on your walls. Again, he doesn’t give you much of a chance to adjust to his size, hands gripping your hips tightly, fingertips digging into your skin in a way you are sure will leave bruises.

“Just needed me to fuck you, is that it?” He manages through gritted teeth, hips snapping against yours so harshly the desk squeaks with every single thrust. “So fucking needy for me.”

Tom grabs a fistful of your hair, roughly wrenching your head back, the other wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to leave you feeling lightheaded. You know he’s close when soft groans fall over his slightly parted lips, thrusts growing rougher, almost punishing. There is no air left in your lungs to complain, but feeling your own release building in your lower stomach is enough to have pain and pleasure blur together, only pushing you closer to the edge.

“Gripping me so tight—like a fucking vice,” he hisses between his words, hand leaving your hair, instead holding onto your tied wrists for leverage. Tom leans forward then, breathing heavily against your hair as he buries himself to the hilt with one final thrust, hips stuttering as he finds his release deep inside your pulsating walls with a low groan.

He doesn’t pull out immediately, staying in position to catch his breath, grip on your throat loosening, allowing you to fill your lungs with much-needed oxygen as you gasp for breath. Only when he feels you clench around him does he pull out, freeing your wrists and dressing himself. You turn your head to meet his expression, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Tom? Please, I was so close—“ you whine, but he merely helps you stand, turning you to face him.

He tilts your chin upwards, having you meet his eyes. “I told you to wait until I am done, to have some patience. It’s a simple rule, darling.” He murmurs, voice laced with fake sympathy as he takes in your expression.

You open your mouth to complain, eyebrows drawing together. “But—“

“No. Only good girls get to come.”

With that, he sits back down, focus instantly back on his unfinished potions recipe.

And after your fifth denied orgasm later that night, tears streaming down your face, he finally decides to have mercy on you.

thank you so much for reading! <3 feel free to reblog and leave feedback! :3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[mari-positas]

strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika 🍓

[healedlover]

EMPTY GAZE ; RUINED WITH LUST

summary: in which the expressionless man finally showed expression during sex pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader cw: nanami is a sex addict and a little perv, oral (m receiving), p in v, make out sesh, dirty talk, clothed sex (f is only wearing her clothes), one night stand a/n: not proof read, first time trying a fic like this haha..spare me..

— 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ —

nanami never had a girlfriend.

he was good looking, that wasn’t the problem. it was the fact he was very expressionless during sex, which made women think he was just using them for his own pleasure.

which was half true, nanami never intended on getting a girlfriend and just decided to use every woman to let his steam out.

currently, he was relaxing against a tree, watching the dark gloomy beach reflect upon him. he had no plans for the night, so he decided to just watch the beach to pass some time before going to bed.

minutes passed and he was getting bored by the second, he didnt know what was going on in his head but he needed something to distract himself with.

nanami glanced around the beach, looking for possibly anyone to let off his boredom with and caught someone standing near the waves. before he could walk up to them, he was interrupted with a small tug on his shirt.

“hello?”

nanami turned around and almost passed out at the sight, he mumbled a quick hello before looking up and down at your outfit.

star struck at the way your breasts sit perfectly in your revealing top, the way your hair contrasted perfectly with your outfit, the way the wind made your skirt flow up and down, he wasn't paying attention to a word you were saying.

"–so yeah, you down?"

"sure." nanami answered with no hesitation, actually--he didnt even care what he agreed to, but he needed to fuck you immediately.

"perfect! follow me, handsome." your fingers wrapped around nanami's large, veiny wrists and you dragged him to one of the beach houses nearby.

"why'd you decide to talk to me?"

"my friend recommended you to me, you know her?" you pull up a picture of one of the women nanami had fucked before, but nanami just shrugs and shakes his head.

"mm, dont remember her."

"weird, anyway, I heard you're very good at sex so I was thinking–"

nanami took a few steps in front of you and pressed you against the wall, his lips was inches away from yours. you could feel his hot breath graze against your skin, and in a blink of a second, he captured your lips in a deep kiss.

both tongues intertwined with each other, nanami nor you didnt want to pull away, nanamis fingers slid through your hair as he sunk himself deeper inside your mouth.

"wai–mngh-"

nanami's teeth sink on your bottom lip and he gives it a light tug before pulling away and staring down at you--yet again, with rarely any expression.

you scoffed at his incompetence and then felt the same rough fingers slip under your skirt, nanami's fingers teased the waistband of your panties and slowly pushed them down, leaving them to rest between your thighs.

"you heard I was good at sex...right?" he asked breathlessly, you nod and he slips his fingers out of your hair, wrapping those same fingers around your wrist. nanami placed your hand on his hard-on.

"then make me feel good...can you do that f'me?"

"yes.." you responded breathlessly, he nodded and you fumble the belt of his pants and after a few failed attempts you finally clink it open. you rip the belt off and quickly unzip his pants, letting them flow down his legs.

you pull down his boxers and was met with his searing hard length, staring daggers at you. sighing, you kneel down on your knees and brush your lips against his creamy mushroom tip, your tongue darting on the head as your lips wrap around his aching cock.

you lowered your head deeper and swore you heard a gasp slip out of nanami's lips, you look up at him–still with half his length shoved inside your mouth–and notice him scoffing at you before turning his head away.

"keep going..ngh"

your fingers grabbed onto his thighs and nanami winced at your grip. nanami's fingers grabbed onto your hair and he pushed your head until you took in his full length. holding back a gag, your nails dig in his thighs until it felt like it was bleeding.

"touch yourself." he demanded, you let go of his thighs and bring your fingers to your raging heat, you slip a finger in your cunt and rapidly stroke yourself as you continued to suck off nanami.

nanami kept pushing your head back and forth, back and forth. your throat started to hurt and your eyes were watering like a waterfall. you slip your fingers out of yourself and glare at nanami through your blurred vision.

"'m gonna cu-ughh"

he pulled himself out of you and white beads spurted all over your face, you sigh and plop against the wall as you look up at him with half lidded eyes and nanami's eyebrows furrowed as his fingers rubbed your eyelid to remove his mess written all over your face.

"where's the bedroom?" nanami asked, looking around the room the two of you were isolated in.

"on the left"

nanami nodded and lifted you off of the ground, carrying you to the bedroom. he stood in front of the door and lightly kicked it open with his foot, nanami then carefully made his way to the bed and threw you on it.

he slid his fingers under the waistband of your panties and swiftly removed them, still keeping your skirt and top on. you watch as he lines himself with your wet cunt, which was practically begging to be used already.

his tip made contact with your soaking entrance and he carefully pushed himself inside you.

"did you even cum yet?"

"I dont...mgh...know" you mutter, shutting your eyes, grabbing onto the bed sheet beneath you. you heard nanami let out a quiet 'tsk' before he thrusted himself into you.

"s' tight...fuck.."

you clench around him and he pushed himself deeper inside you. you let out a whine and flutter open your eyes to see nanami's flushed face and his expression filled with lust, the one thing your friend told you was that he showed little to no expression.

but here he was, taking in your tight cunt, while his face looked like he was a virgin having sex for the first time. the way his eyebrows furrowed together and his eyes were watering with desire.

you didn't mind this view at all.

nanami glanced down at you, and wrapped his hands on your wrists, pinning them down on the bed. he leaned in closer and left a bunch of kisses all over your face.

his fingers slid under your skirt and his eyes kept darting between your tits bouncing in the same rhythm hes pounding you in, and back at your eyes.

"ugh...'m gonna cumm"

"so am i, baby, so am.. mmph- hold it in, can you do that?"

you nod but your body was rejecting you from holding it in, a needy moan slipped out of your lips while your cum spilled out of your hole, with one final thrust he pulled away and came all over your body. nanami plopped on you, absolutely worn out from the best sex he's probably ever had.

his head nuzzled into your neck and he held onto you for the night.

— 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ —

aftercare happened trust

[ma1dita]

Hi Jo! So excited for your monster mash 🥰 Can I get one ticket for the graveyard mash starring Spencer Reid with a 🍫 and 🌭 please. Thank you!

freaks come out at night

[STARRING: SPENCER REID x reader ; “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.” “Please just play along.”] wc: 1.9k warnings: MDNI — afab!reader, semi-public van sex, choking with a belt, no protection p in v, totally against regulation, errrr i saw discourse that spencer doesn’t fuck but with the amount of smut on this hellsite… yeah right. anyways. that man is a freak. consent is sexy, enjoy. title from the whodini song

monster mash-terlist

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“Excuse me? Mr. Officer?”

Your heels clacking against the pavement catches Reid & Morgan’s attention. It’s dark on the street you’re on, the shadows of your face illuminated by the red and blue hues of light from the squad cars that surround the house where the unsub was apprehended. They've been on this case for a week, and everyone’s ready to shake hands and go home. And so are you, it seems; your confidence always gets you into difficult situations; however, asking cops for a ride home instead of staying with the creep at the club sounds like a better idea.

“Hi sweetheart, what’s wrong? This is a crime scene,” Morgan croons smoothly, leaning against the van as he looks you up and down, “you don’t look like you belong here.” It’s condescending almost, the suave tenor of his voice making you feel like you’re being talked down on.

All you want to do is go home, charge your phone, and go to bed. Spencer is too busy fidgeting with the buttons on his dress shirt as he rolls his sleeves back down to look more professional. But it’s hard to impress a pretty girl in a sparkly dress at three in the morning, especially when you don’t even glance his way.

“Yeah, there’s been this guy following me for a few blocks now. Can I get one of you to drive me home? It’s not too far,” you say dismissively, crossing your arms over your chest as the wind picks up. You shiver slightly, hands brushing the skirt of your dress down. Someone calls their attention from near the house, closing down the investigation and Morgan nods lightly with Spencer looking into the distance behind you, trying to find the person giving you trouble.

“Who’s giving you a problem? Want me to talk to him?”

He means it so earnestly, but nothing about Spencer Reid screams intimidating. Tweed blazer, clubmaster glasses, and Converse adorning his frame—-he looks like the kids you knew got bullied in middle school. It makes you giggle, “No offense, you’re not scary, Mr. Officer. Please just play along and let me ride it out.” Morgan hides a smile behind his shoulder and claps Reid on the back as if to say, all yours, pretty boy. You’re pointing at the black van, tapping it with your hand, “This one okay?” But you’ve already opened the door to the passenger seat and climbed in, dress riding up your thighs and giving them a view of your underwear. He swallows hard, looking at his friend who will surely never let him live this down, “Wanna come? I don’t like driving.”

Morgan rolls his eyes at how dumb the smartest man he knows can be when it comes to women, “Just get in the van and take her home, Reid. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” The car keys are thrown (ie. fumbled) into Spencer’s hands as he sighs and walks around the front of the vehicle, mumbling, “Actually, I’m a doctor…”

“Your badge says you’re an agent,” you quip, watching him slide in and start the ignition. He turns the car lights on, looking your way as he pulls out onto the street, “I’m both.” 

Impressive.

Giving him the directions, you sit back and admire the profile of his face in the dark. He’s cute, you suppose—pushing his glasses up to avoid the glare of passing headlights, nose scrunched up in concentration as he tries to not let his mind wander while you tell him about your night.

“Yeah, and then after he was being nice to me, he groped me on the dancefloor. I mean, what a jerk! Can you imagine that, Doctor?”

“Spencer,” he mumbles, making you hum in acknowledgment. And no he cannot. He’s really trying not to. You’re expressive when you speak, hands flying in the air and touching everywhere from the dashboard, to his arm, and then his thigh. His hands clench around the steering wheel, wondering how you’re able to be so blunt with a complete stranger.

“You look like a Spencer.”

“Do I?”

Crossing your legs and leaning against the window to face him more, you look sinful in the passing shadows that blur behind your head. He blinks, reminding himself that he’s in control of the car, and redirects his focus on the road.

“Yeah. Too bad I’m not into nice guys,” you smirk, biting your lip, “Nice guys try to fuck me in public without even asking, apparently.” The car swerves the slightest bit, and neither of you says anything until he pulls into your apartment parking lot.

“Right here should be fine.”

He puts the car into park, lights flicking on as he unlocks the doors and the only thing you can see is his boner straining through the material of his slacks. The sheer sight of it and the hilarity of the situation make you bark out in laughter, “Really? Now? After I tell you about my shitshow of a night, you get hard after hearing that?” His cheeks redden in the dim light as he folds his hands in his lap, sputtering out a response, “I d-didn’t mean to… I’m sorry!”

“I’m not like him, I promise!” But you’re already getting out of the van and Spencer quickly files this into the section of his brain where he keeps suppressed memories because this is humiliating for him, actually— and then you’re opening the door to the backseat.

“Not like what, Spencer?”

His brows furrow as he watches you, frozen and calculating every possible way that tonight will go because it’s rare that Spencer Reid is surprised— “What?”

“Are you a nice guy, or are you a creep?”

And he pushes his glasses up, expression pressed into something you can’t read—maybe it’s something they’ve taught him in the FBI, you think, and he clears his throat, insisting, “I’m a nice guy. I’m one of the good guys.”

“You have terrible timing. Are you moving back here or not? I’m not fucking you in my apartment. I barely know you after all.”

So your confidence does put you into difficult situations. 

But you never thought it would get you bent over and fucked in the back seat of a cruiser with half your body sprawled over the center console. It’s a tight fit, your slick skin sliding against the leather and you don’t suppose a nice guy would do half the things Spencer is doing to you now, and his big hands are gripping the fat of your hips as he watches you bounce on his thick cock with bated breath.

The difference between him and other ‘nice guys’ you’ve encountered is that he’s verbal with his wants and makes sure that you’re enjoying yourself—and despite your eyes rolling to the back of your head and fervent moans, you’re still not sure he believes you.

“Ngh—fuck! Just like that…” you whine as he takes control, maneuvering you so that he can pull you up and down by his hold on your forearms. Spencer eagerly lifts his hips to meet yours, his length pistoning into your tight hole, the sound of skin and squelch echoing through the vehicle as he groans loudly, “This okay? Does this…feel good?”

“More! Mmm…harder, Spencer…I—”

“Not what I was asking, pretty,” he pants, thrusting into your soaked pussy with a jolt and stopping. Your cheek smacks against the gear shift and you cry, knees going weak at the sound of his voice, “I said, is this okay?”

“Yes! Stop asking!”

He slams into you again at the sound of your agreement, your belly hitting the console and squeezing around his cock as you lay there almost begging for him to do it again. But spit drips down the side of your mouth, along with the words you can’t string into a coherent sentence. The material of your dress is bunched around your torso, and his hands slither up your spine, feeling the way you breathe under his touch; you can’t see him from here but you know he’s smiling.

“I need to hear it, pretty girl,” he coos, tracing the letters of his name across your shoulder blades, and all you can do is laugh.

“Yes, your cock feels really good,” you hum, looking back at him and biting your lip, “In fact, you could go harder. You’ddo that for me, wouldn’t you, Mr. Nice Guy?”

“Doctor Reid…” 

He’s breathing heavily at your stare, noting the streaks of mascara down your cheeks and how your eyes seem to glint at him in the moonlight. So he yanks you up into the backseat with him, pressing you into the same position; ass up and face down and you shiver at the sound of his belt buckle clinking in the dark, “What are you doing?” you mumble, catchingyour breath while you can.

“M’gonna choke you if that’s okay.” 

It sounds so innocent coming out of his mouth and you’re grinning at the feeling of leather wrapping around your neck, fastened tight but not so much so that you’ll asphyxiate. You know he’ll be taking your breath away regardless, and he’s whispering into the shell of your ear, asking if you’re comfortable and pressing a soft kiss that feels incandescent against your skin.

One of Spencer’s hands spreads your cheeks open for his dick to make its way through your warm flesh, arching your back into his hold as the other hand tugs on the belt to pull you up. The choked sound that leaves your lungs is so filthy he has to try not to cum right then and there. 

“Please,” you whine, wiggling your hips as your hand slips down the glass pane, “Need you to fuck me.” Every inch that slides in has you moaning louder, and Spencer’s the one laughing now, “Should I still ask if you’re doing okay?”

“Oh…Just fuck me already Spencer!”

His jaw clenches as he starts fucking himself into your warmth, one hand on your shoulder and the other wrapped around his belt making you wheeze. Your ass shakes with the car, the force of his cock pounding into you with vigor, and Spencer moans, “F-fuck! You’re shaking…” His balls clap against the plump of your body as your throat feels the pressure of his efforts, and big hands pull you into a seated position so he can get a better look at your face. It’s puffed up with the lack of air and your pupils are unfocused, fucked stupid, and happy at the feeling of his rigid cock against the soft of your walls, mumbling incoherently as your eyes connect.

“Yes, yes, yes…So fucking deep…”

Spencer slides his hand around your torso, putting his fingers beneath sweaty fabric so he can touch your skin, thumb rubbing against your belly button and tongue licking up the side of your collarbone, still rocking into you as he loses it, finally letting go of the belt. You fall over with a shaking gasp and hear him groan, hot spurts of cum painting your motionless back. Noticing the car windows are foggy, you smile to yourself. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into? Reaching down to grab your underwear, you stop when you feel Spencer delicately wiping his cum off you with a handkerchief.

“Mmm. You really are a nice guy.”

He helps you readjust your clothes first before his, “I told you that.” It’s quiet in the car again, and you’re not sure what to say, but there’s no point in being shy now.

“You wanna see my apartment?” you muse, smiling sweetly at him, and he quirks his brow, “I thought you didn’t let strangers into your apartment.”

“I think we’re past that, don’t you?”

Spencer doesn't make it back to the hotel until right before check out the next morning.

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ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!

[cryptfile]

★ kinktober file 01 — wandering star, d. winchester

based on this request here, fem! reader, 18+ mdni, warnings of established relationship, degradation, dumbification, edging, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, english is not my first lenguage (thank god!) any mistakes? i’m not sorry for it, feel free to hit me up with requests in my inbox to keep kinktober going! <3 also, dividers by @cafekitsune!

He’s cocky after a hunt goes the way he wants.

Dean Winchester’s always a damn headache after a sucessful solved case. He gets in this mood where he feels invincible and well, he just feels like he could win the lottery if he puts his mind into it.

Sam’s done by the time you guys are in the next town, checking into another cheap motel. The older Winchester has been a damn pain in the ass the whole ride so the first thing he does when you guys ask for separate rooms? Ditch the problem to you.

“He’s your boyfriend,” he’d say, obviously done with his sassy attitude as he left to his own private space — Sacred space he values since you appeared. “You deal with him.”

You love your boyfriend that’s for sure but after a hunt? Your muscles are sore, you feel like you’re going to get sick and on top of all? You been dying for a hot shower and bed.

Dean’s plans are way different, cause by the time Sam leaves saying he’s going to buy burgers in any open restaurant, he’s all over you. Literally.

“Why are you so needy?” you ask furrowing your brows, he’s in a good mood now that he survived a violent ghost who’s bones you had to burn, and honestly, it doesn’t make any sense: The rush of adrenaline? The near death experience? Usually he’s deep in his third dream by now, but that night? He got this grin in his face when he’s pushing you to the motel bed despite any response he could recieve—. “Dean.”

“Just want to make m’lady feel on cloud nine,” he says, planting soft kisses on the exposed skin of your neck, a fight you cannot possibly win. “Can I do that? Take care of my girl?”

Thing is, deep down, you don’t want to win any fight. Not that one at least when Dean’s pulling you to the edge of the bed, unblucking his belt as he lets the fabric of his jeans fall to the floor, he’s craving you ever since you pulled this show up in the morning when you said there was no time to shower together since the case was so important. Naked, standing in a foggy bathroom: You won’t let him have you? Not even ten minutes? Fucking unfair.

He can do a lot in ten. You do love it even when it’s rushed, when Sam’s pushing on the other side of the door screaming something about being late, his only goal is to take whatever he needs, so in ten minutes he can do plenty. He can kneel on the slippery floor, filthy thoughts as he helps you lift up your leg — “Such a pretty pussy, already dripping for me?” he would said, the sound of his voice imprinted in your memory. The warm water burns on your skin as he uses a hand to spread you open, buring his face in your cunt without a previous warning.

Even under the shower he makes you sweat. Dean’s damn skilled so he knows what spot he needs to hit to get you there, the wet sounds that fill the bathroom on random mornings — He knows you’re getting there when his digits finally fill you up in a way you can even describe, his tongue lapping over your clit, taking his time, savouring each sound he manages to get out of you, the way you say his name when he’s nose-deep in what he claims belongs to him.

And god you’re a mess. A fucking mess every single time.

“You owe me,” Dean says confident, “We solve the case, job done here. I want your full attention now.”

He has it soon after. Every ounce of it.

He’s not patient enough to play with you before like he would do in the morning, in the dirty motel you’re now at the hunter would mumble something about not giving a single fuck about preparing you cause you’re already wet enough for him, something about being already used to his size cause he’d fucked you plenty of times before, that your warm and tight cunt is already prepared for him cause you’ve been his for months, convinced that you can take him. No problem at all.

“You were such a bitch to me this morning,” he says, pushing your cheek against the matress, not caring enough about your comfort as he forces himself inside you, muffling the sounds of your moans as he places his hand on your mouth, keeping you in place—. “Do you have any idea of how hard is to concentrate on a ghost when all I can think is to have you beneath?”

He’s rough when he’s needy, straight up filthy as he lets his primal desires take over. Dean forgets about it all. His hand collides against your ass a couple of times, spanking hard enough so the skin is red to be visibly noticiable, to make you think about another pain more than the one you felt as he’s finally buried inside you.

“Atta girl” he praises, leaning to place kisses on your shoulders, giving you just enough time to adjust— “Lookin’ so pretty when full of my cock.”

He enjoys the view so much. So damn much Dean chuckles for a second, almost proud of the mess he’s done with you, always so damn tight, already clenching on his dick as you squirm desesperate to move. He got you where he wants you to be.

“Move that nice ass for me,” he says seconds after, demanding you to take him faster as he moves you at the rythm he needs—. “That’s it, fuck yourself pretty witch, work for it.”

“Dean,” you whine, the sound distant thanks to his fingers covering your mouth— “Dean-please”

“What are you begging for?” he chuckles, the sound of his laugh making your skin shiver as his hips buckle up to meet the pace you’ve been setting— “My girl is dumb for my cock already? Only a few minutes in and my baby is talking nonsense?”

He’s giving you exactly what you need, that nice pace as he grabs you by the tights, fingers buried in your skin as his movements become more erratic, desesperate as the time passes.

Dean waits. Cause he can be a cruel son of a bitch sometimes, drive you fucking mad cause he knows when’s you’re close to release, when you’re ready to cum as he slides his cock off, leaving you hollow as you loudly gasp.

“What the actual-fuck?” you ask clearly annoyed, looking over your shoulder as he offers you a sly grin—. “Dean, what the fuck?”

“We are goint to work in some manners here,” he says, grabbing you by the hair, roughly pulling your head to the side so he can look at your face while speaking—. “Cause you’re not doing to me what you did in the morning ever again. Teasing me all fucking day, acting all innocent about it. No. You’re gonna cum when I say so. And we’re gonna start all over again ‘till that big brains of yours finally gets it: No more leaving Dean Winchester all hard in the bathroom.”

next kinktober file [ art donaldson ] // masterlist

[kamisobsessed]

Slim Pickins

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: He's your ex-turned-friends-with-benefits. You had a relationship after him, but that one ended poorly too. Even though you and Dean didn't work as a couple, and you both have tried to move on, let's be honest, the sex was good.

Warnings: mdni 18+. smut. oral (f receiving). unprotected p in v. fwb. well more like exes with benefits. mentions of cheating. rough sex.

A/N: part of the oneshot tracklist. i'm slowly trying to work on those lol.

masterlist — one-shot tracklist — taglist

You don’t even remember what his name was.

That’s how bad the date was.

You do remember the way he kept checking his phone when you spoke, the way he looked at your chest instead of your face, and how he had the nerve to tell you he “wasn’t really a relationship guy” after paying the bill with a coupon.

It was the cherry on top of a long, miserable week of letdowns.

Your ex, Nick, you thought he was the one. Especially after you and Dean broke up. You loved Nick. But he cheated on you.

Bad date after bad date after bad date, you've been trying to move on, but to no avail.

So, naturally, you ended up at the bunker.

Again.

You didn’t knock, never did, not anymore.

The door groaned open, the bunker air is stale and quiet. But you knew Dean heard you. Your heels echoed against the concrete floor. You found him in the kitchen, a beer in one hand, that signature smirk on his face.

He didn’t say anything. Just looked you up and down, eyes lingering at the edge of your cleavage like he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“Another one bites the dust?” he asked.

You dropped your purse on the table with a thud.

“He told me 'you're too sexy to be that smart' while staring at my chest the entire night."

Dean snorted into his bottle. “Jesus. That’s a new one.”

You crossed your arms. “So. You busy?”

He shook his head once, slow and deliberate. “You know I’m not.”

You didn’t smile. Just went up to him, pulling him into a kiss.

Dean kissed like a man starved. Tongue hot and fast, hands already under your shirt before your back hit the hallway wall. There was no gentle anymore. Not between you. Just raw, sharp need, all fire and teeth and memory.

You pulled at his belt. He pulled your shirt over your head. Your bra came off in the hallway.

By the time you made it to his room, he had you bent over the edge of the bed, panties shoved to the side, fingers already deep inside you in slow, thick strokes that had your thighs trembling and your voice breaking.

“Fuck, Dean—”

“Already soaked,” he said into your neck. “You drive here like this? All needy and wet for me?”

“Shut up,” you gasped, hips bucking against his hand. “Just...don’t stop.”

“Oh, I’m not stoppin’.” He grinned against your throat, biting just enough to leave a mark. “I got you.”

He always did. That was the problem.

He stripped you slowly, almost cruelly. Pulled your panties down with a drag of fingers over your thighs. You sat back on the bed, naked and already flushed, legs spread like you’d done this a hundred times. Because you had.

He knelt between them without a word, slid his hands under your ass, pulling you to the edge of the bed, and went down on you like he needed it. Maybe he did.

His tongue worked its magic. Swirling around, lapping up every part. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking like he knew it would break you. Your fingers curled in his hair, tugging hard as your hips rolled against his mouth.

"D-Dean— ah, fuck—" You came once with a sharp cry, legs shaking, chest heaving, but he didn’t stop. Just licked you through it, groaning low like he loved the way you tasted while falling apart.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were glistening and swollen, he stood, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.

“Want me to fuck you?” he asked, his voice thick with lust.

You nodded.

“Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, still breathless. “Hard.”

He shoved his jeans down. His cock is already hard and leaking.

He didn’t waste any more time, he just grabbed your hips and slid inside you in one long, relentless thrust.

Your head fell back with a moan, "Oh— Fuck, Dean."

Dean grunted, forehead resting against yours for a moment as he bottomed out.

“Shit, you feel good. Always do.” He grunts as he started to move, thrusting hard and hitting just the right spot over and over.

His hand slid between your legs, his thumb circling your clit. Your whole body was on fire.

“This what you needed, huh?” he growled against your ear. “Get all dressed up for some prick who didn’t deserve you, and now you’re here, takin’ my cock like it’s the only thing that’s ever satisfied you.”

"I fucking hate you" You dug your nails into his back, biting your lip so you wouldn’t scream.

He wasn't wrong.

"I hate you too, baby."

He flipped you over before you could cum again, pushing your chest down into the mattress, gripping your hips as he fucked you from behind, thrusting hard and fast.

Every thrust knocked the breath out of you, your body on the edge again.

When you came, this time it wasn’t quiet.

"Dean—" You moan, loudly, your legs shaking as you clench around him.

Dean followed you moments later with a strangled groan, hips snapping forward as he spilled inside you, your name spilling from his lips as his fingers dig into your hips.

You collapsed together, skin damp, breath ragged, silence stretching between you as you catch your breaths.

You stared at the ceiling afterward, sheets half-pulled over your chest, still trembling slightly.

Dean lay beside you, one arm behind his head, silent.

"I saw Nick yesterday." You say, softly.

"Yeah?"

"With that girl."

"Hm. I still want to kick his ass."

"I know." You mutter. Then after a silent pause, "Men suck."

He dryly chuckled, "Yet you're still in my bed."

"Slim fuckin' pickin's."

A/N: I made a new taglist. You should join it if you haven't already!

tags: @animelucky @mystic-writings @magster196 @soldierboysdoll @skywalker0809 @winchesterwild78 @cas-is-my-angel7 @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @mostlymarvelgirl @chevroletdean @waynes-multiverse @sunshinegirlreads

[covetyou]

tool time

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: cock worship, self imposed denial, blue balls for all, that tool belt, pet names (darlin', baby), mentions of oral sex and p in v, very brief mention of alcohol, no/pre-outbreak TLOU, no use of y/n. word count: 3k summary: He was always there to pull you both back from the brink, though you weren't sure there was any saving you this time. And it was all because of something as simple as a tool belt.

A/N: it has been one year to the day (and almost to the minute) since I published sleepless in 2023. happy anniversary to the fic that started it all. thanks to all of you for sticking with me, and thanks to Joel Miller for always being That Man.

thank you to @sp00kymulderr and a conversation months ago at this point that inspired this fic 💛

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

"Y'Starin'?"

You were. From the moment he walked in, actually.

Then, from the moment he slung that thing low around his hips this morning, you knew you were done for. Four weeks of pain and struggle, all for nothing.

The best laid plans, you guess, as you grunt back at him with a shrug.

It was on you, really. You were probably setting yourself up for failure the moment you had your first grownup sleepover with one Joel Miller. Sensible people don't do that to themselves. Not when they have rules to keep to. They may have been your own rules, but that was besides the point. Rules were rules, and you never did like breaking them.

Watching Joel move and shift, his bulge in his denim framed neatly by the leather of his work belt, you had a feeling breaking this particular rule wouldn't upset you for long.

Six weeks. That was the rule. Just two painful weeks away. Six weeks, and then you'd be free from this forced celibacy you'd put yourself into. It was a test for yourself more than anything - always too eager to throw yourself into intimacy with people who didn't care and, if you were being honest, with people who you didn't care about either. You figured if you wanted different, you'd have to make it different.

You just didn't account for the first man in your life after a months long dry spell to be Joel Miller.

From the day you said those words into his mouth - six weeks, give me six weeks and I'm all yours - he'd been all in. He told you he could wait as long as you needed, and from the moment he said it you believed him. The problem was, from the moment he said it, you also wanted to fuck him about it.

But you couldn't, because that was exactly the rule you were trying to keep to. No sex for six fucking weeks.

You weren't even sure why you picked six weeks in the first place. The exact whys of it all went out of your head the moment Joel committed to your stupid, self-imposed rule without question. Those reasons why grew further from you each and every week he calmly stopped your dates from going too far with a gruff don't wanna break your rules, baby.

Even when you were forced to stay the night after one too many drinks, or when a make-out session got too heated, there he was to pull you both back from the brink.

Though, you weren't sure there was any saving you this time.

And it was all because of something as simple as a tool belt.

You'd seen him in it before. It wasn't new. It was quite old, and worn, actually. Usually you'd simply see him throw it into the back seat of his truck, or onto his counter, or over his shoulder. On one occasion you'd caught him on his knees, belt strapped around his hips as he fixed up a broken cabinet in his garage.

It did the same to you then as it did now, but this time it was staying on and not being hastily discarded with an oh shit, I'm runnin' late.

Now, he stands and shifts his hips, legs crossed at the ankle, the bulge in his denim so perfectly framed you're sure the sight will be burned into your vision for ever.

"You're doing that on purpose."

Your eyes are looking through him. Fuck knows you can't look at him. Not right now, not when two billion reasons not to break your one rule couldn't hold you back from just doing it.

"Doin' what?" he asks in a voice so innocent you almost believe him. Until he shifts once again, hips rocking in your direction, the denim bunching between his legs over his soft bulge.

"Stop it, Joel."

"Stop doin' what?"

Maybe he doesn't have a clue what he's doing to you - what he's been doing to you every day for weeks. Maybe he's oblivious, or too innocent and pure and good to know just how ravenous you're feeling for him right this moment, or maybe he's hoping he isn't seeing the way you're looking at him, ready to devour him in one, so he stands some chance of getting to work on time.

Yes, you could be strong and ignore the way his hand engulfs the coffee mug he's drinking from - strong but delicate in a way you know it to be by how he lets his fingertips dance up and down your side in the dead of the night. You could look past how his eyes flick down your body, stood stiff and still as far away from him as you can get in your tiny little kitchen. You could even ignore the way he licks the dregs of coffee from his lips, swiping his hand across his chin as his cup clinks down on the counter.

But then, those strong, delicate hands find purchase on his belt, hooking through a loop you saw him tuck a hammer into that day in his garage, and - as though you hadn't decided from the moment he put the belt on his hips - the last crumbling ruins of your resolve crash to the ground.

"Fuck it."

"Darlin', you -"

You cut him off with a kiss - striding across the kitchen to grab him by the shirt before he could even realize what was happening.

"Shut up," you breath into his mouth, silencing him more with the pressure of your lips on his than with the words on your tongue.

Joel, still trying to be a gentleman, keeps his one hand planted on the counter, the other on his belt, white knuckle gripping as he tries to keep up with your frantic kisses. You bite and nip at his lips, the fire in your belly not letting up even though you're well aware neither of you have time for this. And, though his hands are still, he kisses back with a fire to match, setting the ruins of your rules ablaze right there on the kitchen floor.

But then you're gone, and he's chasing a mouth that's no longer there.

His eyes snap open just as you slip down his body, your hands releasing from his shirt to slide down the length of his torso as you descend.

"Darlin', I -"

"Shut up, Joel," you growl again as your knees collide with the kitchen tile. It's not comfortable, and it's certainly not romantic, but it's what you need, so you'll take it.

"Your rule, baby, I don't wanna -"

"Fuck my rule, Joel."

Your eyes drop from his to the belt in front of you, then lower still to the soft lump in worn denim. You'd only been this close in your dreams - and there had been a lot of them lately. Waking up wet and sticky between your legs after a Joel sleepover was something you were now well accustomed to. While the you of your dreams could make the man come in two seconds flat some nights, the real you - the one on their knees in their kitchen - didn't have a clue what got his blood pumping and his heart racing.

You press a lingering kiss to the front of his jeans anyway. Just to see, really. Then, by the way his eyes widen, pupils blowing black in his warm eyes, and his breath hitches, you have a feeling you won't have much trouble at all finding out what makes Joel Miller tick.

You chain together another kiss, and then another, and then another, pressing your soft lips to the rough denim as you listen to his ragged breaths.

"I -"

"Shut up."

You don't want him to speak. You don't want him to be sensible, or to stop you, not when you've already waited so long. Not when his cock is right in front of you, separated by nothing but a zipper and some fabric.

You press a firmer kiss to him, breathing deeply and letting your eyes slip closed as you inhale. He always smells so clean in the mornings, but this time it's mixed with something else. The soft scent of his laundry detergent is still there, but there's the earthy smell of his leather belt, just a few inches away from your face. It smells of wood and dust and metal - the fixtures and undoubtedly a few errant screws and nails dumped into the pockets and pouches accounting for the latter. Then there's something else too, as you take another breath, groaning against the denim that you nuzzle your face into, feeling him twitch beneath your cheek.

He likes this. If the stiffening lump beneath your lips, pressed against your nose, rubbed against your cheek is anything to go by, he likes this a lot. Who could blame the man, really. He'd waited as long as you had. Four weeks for you had been four weeks for him. Four weeks of you trying to break through his resolve, to crack him so he was to blame for your broken rule and not you. Four weeks of you edging closer and closer to his waistband each time you kissed on the couch. Four weeks of your hips shifting back into his crotch every night you went to sleep.

"You smell so good, Joel," you groan into his crotch, letting your head rest against his thigh as you sink lower on your knees. Your head feels floaty on your shoulders, and you wonder if he can feel the hot warmth of your breath against his cock through his jeans.

His thighs tense beneath your palms as you steady yourself on him. You should probably slow down, you think, but no sooner is the thought in your head when your fingers are already creeping up and up to stroke across the soft leather of his belt.

You want to pull it off and pull his jeans down and finally taste him. You want to leave it on, slung around his hips as it is, holding onto it to anchor yourself to him as he slides into you. You want to feel it slapping against your ass as he fucks you, face down into the mattress screaming his name.

Instead you pull, tugging his hips closer to your face. He grunts above you, shifting his own hips again as his cock swells in his pants, undoubtedly uncomfortable in the confines of his jeans. You want to take it out - you could take it out. You could see it for the first time right now, right here. You could taste it if you wanted to. You'd imagined it enough.

But you don't.

Even through your desperation, there were things you still wanted for that first time with Joel Miller. Fantasies of the belt, and the need you had for him right now couldn't sway you from that, at least.

You'd have him stripped bare, and you would be too. Hands and mouths and tongues would explore first. And then, when the desperation got too much to bear, he'd slip into you like he'd always belonged there, sliding down to the root and burrowing himself in you.

"I don't want you to do anything you'll regret, baby," he whispers, holding your hand against his thigh, stilling you for just a second.

You could sob at how good he is, even now as you try to ruin him on your knees.

"How could I regret this," you murmur, white hot heat radiating off his cock as it throbs right beneath your chin. "Please, Joel. Fuck my rule. I don't care. I just want you."

You watch as his resolve begins to crack, shattering first in his eyes as he spares a heated glance down at you between his legs.

"Fuck."

You begin in earnest then. Your hands that were stilled go back to kneading, pawing at his thighs, reaching round to grab a handful of his ass as you press kiss after kiss to his cock, dampening the fabric of his jeans with your saliva.

"Wanted it for so long," you breath. "Need it. Fuck, Joel."

You're babbling into his crotch. You know you are. You don't care. All you care is about the wet heat between your legs and the cock in front of you, swollen and desperate as you are wet and dripping. In this moment you're made for each other, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing, as he throbs, pulsating with each kiss you press to him.

He gasps suddenly and you're pulled out of your trance, looking up at him as a wet patch blooms on the front of his jeans.

"Baby, you can't -"

"Don't you want to?" you ask breathlessly. "Don't you want to know what it's like?"

"I do - jesus fuck - I do, we just don't got the time."

You groan into his crotch. He's right. Of course he is. Still, you don't stop. He can feel your breath hot on him through the denim, you're sure of it. You want - need - him to know how much you want him. You need him to carry it with him all damn day until he's aching and desperate and ready to fuck you the moment he sees you.

He's not looking down at you the next time you cast your eyes up. Instead his head is titled skyward and his jaw is open in a soft moan you can barely hear from the blood pumping in your ears. The hand that was on his belt has joined the other, gripping the counter, twitching as if itching to grab at you when you run your teeth over the now solid mass in his pants.

"I want you," you whisper. "Wanted you for weeks."

You let your hands take over, cascading up and down his strong thighs, scraping nails down and dragging delicate finger tips up. With one more kiss to the heavy weight at the front of his jeans, you bring your hand up to cup him, palming the heat between his legs and gasping at the feel of it.

He feels so heavy, and warm, and perfect in your hand.

"Fuck," you hiss, squeezing gently at his covered cock. "Joel."

"Unngh."

He's wrecked. If his breathing and the way he can't look down at you is anything to go by, he may be past the point of no return. It sends a thrill through you, ruining your clean panties even more as the realization strikes you.

You could make him come like this.

And you shouldn't. The sensible part of you knows that. You know he doesn't have anything else to change into, and you know that time is rapidly ticking away by the ache gradually throbbing in your knees.

But, you could - and that just makes to too hard to resist.

So, you continue on, pressing kisses to his cock, wishing desperately you could cradle the heft of his balls in your hand as you took his head into your mouth. Your teeth nip at his thighs, scrape gently across the sides of his bulge. And then, your tongue slips out from between your swollen lips, and you lick gently at the precum seeping through his jeans.

You moan. Whine, really. Whimper, if you were being really honest with yourself. The rough fabric on your tongue and the bitter salt of his precum on your tongue almost have you coming right there on the kitchen floor. You quiver instead, holding it back as you spread your legs, desperate for relief that you don't have time for.

"Fuck, baby, you're gonna make me -"

The vibration of his phone in his pocket, twinned with a harsh beep, startles both of you. You look around, confused for a moment, before Joel scrambles for his back pocket.

"Tommy, hey," he says, clearing his throat. Tommy's voice booms back down the receiver. He's outside. Sorry I'm late, he says, and you could laugh if you weren't so painfully turned on and wrecked from the few minutes you'd spent on your knees acquanting yourself with Joel's cock.

"Yep. Uh-huh. Be out in a sec. Sure."

There's nothing but silence and the sound of your breathing when he hangs up. You can't bring yourself to get up any more than he can bring himself to walk away.

"We gotta get goin'," Joel finally says, hearing an impatient beep of a car horn outside.

"Tonight," you say with certainty, still on your knees. "You're fucking me tonight, Joel."

He helps you up, fingers twitching as they hold your waist. You don't have time for what you both want. Even a kiss could turn into something neither of you could pull back from now. You move to the door, together and desperate and messy in ways neither of you can say out loud, because the clock is ticking.

"Joel," you say, holding back a smile as you walk to your car. "Might wanna check the front of your pants."

He looks down, his cock still hard and uncomfortable in the confines of his jeans. He'd hoped the short walk to the door would releave some of the pressure, but it doesn't. And then he sees it - the dark bloom of wet denim, evidence of the twin effort between you and his cock to ruin his day in the best possible way.

Joel shifts his tool belt, letting it sit lopsided on his hips. You can see by the look in his eye that he wants to push you up against your car and kiss you like he means it. You can see by the way his fingers grip that loop in his tool belt once more, holding onto it for dear life, biting at his inner cheek.

"Tonight," he growls, when he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, before stalking away to the waiting shadow of Tommy's truck.

You watch the leather of his belt slap against the full meat of his ass with every step, and you smile. Just one more day - ten more hours - and the denial would be over, the belt would be off and you'd finally, finally, get what you so desperately wanted.

Fuck your rule.

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[symbiomancy]

be aware wolf —werewolf

—summary: you venture into the woods to hunt for werewolves | 1.5k | AO3 | monster masterlist

—warnings: monster x human, monsterfucking, p in v sex, knotting, creampie, stomach bulge, mounting, outdoor sex, implied voyeurism

It’s a simple cycle. Enter the woods. Keep the local werewolf population under control. Retrieve any animal carcasses you come across in the woods. Make pelts out of said carcasses. Keep them or sell them. Receive payment from the town for your hard work. Pack your things and find the next town with a werewolf problem.

There are quite a few steps, but it’s a simple, straightforward cycle.

You sling your shotgun onto your back and place a hand onto the handgun at your hip. Your other hand rests on the belt of silver bullets around your hips. The ground is dry and this place hasn’t seen rain in weeks. There are no tracks to go off so you settle for scouting tufts of fur.

Something catches in the corner of your eye as you step around a grand oak.

You whip your head to the side and meet the pair of yellow eyes from the distance. It’s late August, and the blessing of the summer solstice only lasts so long. The sun is long gone and the full moon has crested. Darkness creeps around you, the tall trees shielding you from the moon’s glow. A cool breeze caresses your bare arms. You can just about make out the creature’s outline in the shadows. It’s large, maybe about 6 feet tall.

Slowly, you slip the shotgun from your shoulder and raise the barrel in the wolf’s direction. You whistle.

“Here boy,” you call. The pair of eyes blink at you languidly. “C’mere. I got treats for ya.” Indeed, you do; an opened pack of beef jerky in your back pocket. “C’mon, I have a whole pack of you to hunt tonight and I like to be efficient with my time.”

The werewolf rises onto its hind legs. Oh, great, you think, there’s different species in the same genus for these fucks. Perhaps 8 feet tall is more accurate.

You adjust your hold and cock the shotgun.

The werewolf is gone in a blink.

Your pulse picks up and you whirl on your heel, shotgun still raised. These things are fast, always are but they’re also big. How hard is it to shoot one?

The sound of a branch breaking has you whirling around, finger on the trigger to take the shot —

A claw strikes out at you and catches on your belt, ripping it like it’s paper. Your belt and the bullets in their holster disappear from your waist, your pants ripped and a superficial gash in your hip. You lose your footing on a protruding root and fall onto your back, barely keeping your head from slamming against a thick root.

The werewolf drops onto all fours legs, standing over you, its front paws planted on either side of your head. Its warm breath fans against your face, your arms. Its teeth are bared. Saliva dribbles from its maw.

You spare a glance away from its face to assess your situation — maybe there’s a way to roll out from underneath it and scramble towards your shotgun, wherever it landed. Instead, you find yourself staring at its bulbous member, fully erect. It’s long and thick, precum glistening on its tip. You look away, heat flooding to your cheeks and cunt. In your defense, it looked at you first.

You slowly draw your foot back and strike out, hit the beast’s hind leg. It howls in pain and you scramble out from underneath it, roll onto your stomach and stumble upright. Your shotgun is just a few steps to the right.

A heavy weight slams into you from behind and sends you onto the ground. Your jaw collides with the ground and your teeth snap together. You groan, rest your weight on one elbow and place your free hand against your jaw, pressing against the sore muscles. Hot breath fans the back of your exposed neck and something heavy and slick presses against the flesh of your hip. U kick again and scramble forward, your gun just about in reach. Claws swipe at ur body, snag on your shirt and tatter ur barely intact pants.

The cool night air hits your throbbing cunt. You try to ignore it, want to ignore it so bad, to finish the job and go take care of yourself — the werewolf shoves its fanged snout against the back of your neck. You still, heart leaping in your chest. Its heavy member rests on the swell of your ass, hips rocking back and forth, shallow thrusts as if it’s looking for a warm hole. Your pussy clenches at the thought.

It finds that warm hole, pressing its cock against your entrance, just barely breaching it, and you groan. It’s not going to fit but damned if the beast won’t try to make it fit. Maybe it will fit. The wolf grabs your waist — fuck, it’s hand is big enough to nearly wrap around your entire torso — and jerks its hips forward. You gasp as it pushes in all at once, filling you so completely, so deliciously that you nearly see stars. It’s so big and thick, you swear you can feel every vein and ridge of it.

The wolf snarls, beads of saliva dripping onto the back of your neck and thrusts forward shallowly. You struggle onto your knees. It pulls out shallowly and thrusts back in until the bulb at the bottom of its shaft nudges against your pussy.

Heat pools in your stomach as the werewolf drags its cock in and out of your hot cunt. The ridges and veins of his cock feel like bliss, have you gasping for air. Its furry hips connect with yours, the sound of your bodies colliding muffled by his coat. But you’re so wet, every thrust into your sopping cunt is nothing but a wet squelch. It thrusts in without resistance, going in all the way and pulling out with ease. It pushes so deep into you, drags against your walls like nobody ever has. Your thighs are wet, almost shaking at the strain of holding yourself up on all fours.

Your hand slips out from underneath you and your shoulder collides with the ground. The werewolf presses forward — it mounts you, places a clawed hand next to your head for balance and drives in with newfound vigor. The tip of its cock hit so deep in you that you nearly see stars, try to blabber something, something incoherent between ‘no’ and ‘yes’ and ‘more’ and ‘please please please please’. The wolf pistons in and out of our shopping cunt. Its tongue lolls out of its mouth, slobbers onto the back of your neck. The bulb at his crotch nudges against our opening with every thrust and dives slightly in each time. It’s wide and big and you gasp a pitiful sound when it slips into you with a painful stretch. It’s too much and too little at the same time. You try to clench around it.

The werewolf pauses and you want to cry out, beg it to keep going, to bully its way into your pussy until you can take its knot. You’re so full, so full, this thing is everywhere, in your pussy, in your guts, in the back of your throat. All you can manage is a pitiful croak before the beast is back on you again, resting its weight on your back. It picks up the pace, ruthlessly pistoning into you, bullying your throbbing, leaking pussy, rutting his bulb against it, almost stuffing it inside. It places one large clawed hand onto your thigh and pulls it to the side like that will give it more room. Perhaps it does but the stretch of your cunt and your thighs is too overwhelming to not focus on.

You press back against him as much as u can from your contorted position, meet his hips with urs in a frantic attempt to get your release. Your chest heaves as you attempt to match his pace, pressure building in the pit of your stomach. You’re babbling now, you absolutely are, begging for it to push you over the edge and stuff you full. It speeds up as if it understands you, pressing its weight on top you. Your cheek scrapes against the ground and in the corner of your eye, you can make out the bulge in your stomach as the werewolf thrusts in. It’s too much, too good, too deep, rubbing against that spot, knocking the breath from your lungs with every thrust.

You come with a wail, pussy throbbing and clenching around its cock, sucking it back in to keep it there. The wolf howls, head thrown back and buries its knot inside you. Its cock spasms and spills into you. Rope after rope of hot cum coasts your insides until you’re full, and then some. You feel it slide down your thighs, dribble from your pussy. You try to adjust yourself to get a look and clench involuntarily around the beast when you spot the shape of his cock protruding from your stomach.

The cool night air feels pleasant against your heated skin.

You look away from the unholy sight buried in your guts and let your eyes unfocus to bask in your post-orgasmic bliss.

One, two, three, four —

There are at least four pairs of yellow eyes observing you from the darkness.

note: I'm open to hearing about dead batteries!! be as graphic or non-graphic as you'd like:)

banner & divider by @/cafekitsune

[cowboyemeritus]

I Will Make You My Angel (Papa V Perpetua/Reader)

“So, you feel like causing problems tonight,” he asks, which, in the language of your play, translates roughly to, “Ready to suffer?”

You just roll your eyes again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bring it.”

tags: brat taming, slapping, spanking, use of a belt, aftercare, daddy kink for a split second... dw about it

Read on AO3

Notes: this started out as a stream of consciousness post i made like a week ago... how did we get here

First, you didn’t give him a good morning kiss. Strike One.

Then, you didn’t hold his hand in the van to the arena. Strike Two.

Now, you’re ignoring him. He’s just wobbled his ass off in front of thousands of people, and you’re fucking ignoring him.

Strike Three. You’re out.

It’s late by the time the after party wraps. It’s even later when you arrive back at the hotel. Perpetua’s nerves are shot, worn thin by the long day and all the challenges it has presented. Logistical issues, technical difficulties, misbehaving ghouls; the silent treatment is the very last thing he needs. He would have liked to have had you on his arm tonight, to show you off to the sleazy music execs that had come to kiss his ass, but you’d chosen to be selfish, setting yourself down in a corner and scrolling on your phone for hours, hardly paying him any mind.

Your Twitter feed better have been interesting.

He flops down on the bed, a groan wrenching itself out of him as the tension in his body is finally allowed an escape route. You don’t acknowledge him, checking your phone again before setting it down on the nightstand and shuffling over to the closet. With your back to him, you start undressing for bed, and his blood boils just a little hotter. If you won’t engage with him, he should at least be allowed to ogle you a bit.

He should also rest, prepare himself for the next ritual, but the itch has taken hold of him and won’t let go. His skin crawls, thinking about everything that’s gone wrong today and everything that will go wrong tomorrow. This new life of his, it’s more than he ever could have dreamed of, but it’s just so much, all the fucking time. And he doesn’t ask for a lot, just that you show up, be present, give him a little support when he needs it. You’re normally so, so good for him. He doesn’t understand why-

Every racing thought in his head comes screeching to a halt when you unzip your dress, a sexy leather thing that hugs your curves just right, and pull it down. Perpetua watches carefully, pulse quickening, as the action exposes the purple silk and black lace beneath. The set is new and, as he suspected, it fits perfectly, the bustier giving your tits the perfect amount of lift while the garters and stockings make you look like something out of a 50s centerfold. It’s old-fashioned refinement; the good shit. His cock throbs at the sight, and for a fleeting moment he’s able to take pride in his excellent taste. He knows what suits you, often better than you do. Then, that feeling is replaced by seething rage.

You have the gall, the audacity, to wear his colors after how you’ve acted today?

“What is that?” He asks, heartbeat thrumming in his ears. At long last, you notice him, turning your head in his direction.

“Um, my underwear?” There is disinterest, even a little judgement, in your gaze, like he’s some old pervert creeping on you at a bar. Anger pangs in his stomach, like hunger.

“Yeah,” Perpetua says, trying to sound casual. “Looks good on you.” No response. “I wonder where you could have come across such a thing.” At this, you give an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

“I found it,” you state, the words barbed with sarcasm. His jaw tightens.

“How?” You blink at him, confused.

“What do you mean, how? I just-”

“Found it,” he questions, “with your eyes glued to your fucking phone all day?” Now you turn your body towards him, revealing more of the getup. Perpetua wants nothing more than tear it off and have you now, but there’s something to be said about taking his time, about making you really earn the punishment he so desperately needs to dole out.

“What are you, my dad?” You scoff, turning your attention back to your dress, putting it on a hanger and racking it next to a neat row of his shirts. “I don’t know why you’re being such a dick. The show didn’t go that bad.”

Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s up, stomping over to where you’re standing. He grips you hard by the shoulder, spinning you face him.

“So, you feel like causing problems tonight,” he asks, which, in the language of your play, translates roughly to, “Ready to suffer?”

You just roll your eyes again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bring it.”

In an instant, his gloved palm is connecting with your cheek. It’s hard, but not enough to leave a mark. Still, your head jerks violently to the side as he completes the stroke, the clap echoing off the walls. A heavy silence falls over the room, and it’s only then that he considers what this might sound like to a concerned neighbor. He doesn’t have time to dwell on that, though. You hang your head for a beat, take a few, steadying breaths, and then look back up at him. Your pupils are blown wide, and the way you’re pressing your lips together tells him you’re fighting back a grin.

This, of course, had been your plan all along: to get him riled up and then let him blow off the steam. You’re far too smart for your own good. You know him too well, can read his moods too easily, and like a little pixie, you use this talent to make mischief when he most desperately needs a distraction.

“That fucking hurt.”

He’d be lost without you.

“It did?” Still in a vice grip, he marches you across the room, throwing you down on the mattress. Delight curls in his gut at the sound you make, the breath knocked out of your lungs. “On your knees. I’ll show you hurt.” You remain motionless, glaring back at him. “Come on.” He grabs you by the hips, manhandling you into the desired position. His mouth waters as he takes in the sight of you, decked out in his colors, your ass in the air like it’s a prize and your face in the sheets to shut you up. “It’s late. You think I want to be doing this at two in the fucking morning?” You shake your head sheepishly. “Yeah, of course not. But if I don’t deal with you, who will?” He peels off his gloves and then reaches for his belt buckle, noting how your thighs press together. “Who will do a fucking thing if I’m not around?”

You smirk. “Heavy is the head that wears the mitre, huh?” As he’s pulling the band of leather through the loops, you let out a little laugh. “You know, you could always switch with Copia if you don’t think you can handle-”

The belt cracks against the back of your thigh. You jolt, crying out, and it’s as much an exclamation of pain as it is a moan. Perpetua looks between his hand, knuckles blanched around the leather, and where he’s just struck you. The skin is already welting up in a fat, pink streak, a few tiny, red dots blooming over broken capillaries. It’s such a captivating image that, for a split second, he forgets he’s supposed to be angry. Then you shift uncomfortably, giving him an expectant look, and he has to fight to come back to himself.

“Don’t-” He so badly wants to kiss that bruising flesh, to soothe the wound with his tongue. It takes a long, deep breath to steel him. “Dirty your mouth with his name again, and I’ll make you wash it out with soap.” He teases the folded end of the belt up your other thigh, brushing over your core, and you shiver. Princes of Hell, you’re already soaked through. “Got that, follettina?”

“Yes, Papa.” Perpetua scoffs.

“Now you feel like showing me some respect.” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and encountering the warm metal of the mask. With his free hand, Perpetua reaches for the clasp at the top of his head, then, seeing you watching, decides against it. He glowers at you as his hand instead finds his scarf, pulling it loose, before undoing the top few buttons of his shirt. Beneath the layers of fabric, his skin is overly warm, bordering on sweaty.

“We go until I say we’re done,” he states, bringing the belt back to your buttocks. “You can still keep count if you’d like.” At this, you swallow hard, shuddering, and it fills him with a perverse sense of pleasure, heat flaring at the very base of him. He knows you’re just the tiniest bit afraid; in moments like this, it’s hard not to be, even when there’s desire in it. What he loves about you, though, is that you trust him, letting him guide you through the fear to the pleasure at its conclusion. That you’re willing to put your body and safety in his hands is an intoxicating feeling, and swept up in it, Perpetua finds that he’s done holding back.

He brings the belt down on your ass. You bury your face in the mattress to stifle a moan. He does it again, and this time it’s a scream. He strikes you one more time before the itch takes over and he no longer cares to keep track. Then, its blow after blow, the sound ricocheting off the walls like gunfire. His treatment is imprecise, uneven, striking wherever meets his fancy, until your ass and the backs of your thighs are red and criss-crossed with welts. You take each hit like a champion, hardly moving save for the arching of your back and an occasional buck of your hips.

He’s listening closely for it the whole time: miserere, the hard stop. You’ve never tapped out before, but maybe this is it. Maybe this time he’ll overdo it. The worry is always there, lingering in the back of his mind despite your assurances. But you’re resilient, far more so than he, and even when your yelps and moans turn to sobs, you don’t bend. You never do. You take it all, his rage, his pain, and you swallow it. You transform it into focus, productivity. Even now, his head already feels clearer.

You’re a martyr. Perpetua ought to have you canonized.

“That’s enough.” His chest is heaving, sweat beading under the mask. He’s so hard it hurts, every nerve alight with pleasure. It feels like he’s vibrating. It’s exhilarating.

You flop onto your side with a groan. You’re panting, sniffling, twitching a little, but there’s a blissed out look on your face, a grin spread wide across it. Tears stream down your cheeks, taking your makeup with them.

“Papa…” It’s all you can manage before breaking out into a fit of laughter. Oh, he’s gotten you good. You reach blindly for him, and in spite of the scene his heart skips a beat.

“I’m right here,” he coos, taking your hand and planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. It flops back down when he lets go. Shakily, you bring the appendage closer to your face, cracking an eye open to examine it. There’s a smear of his black lipstick on your skin, and with a pleased little hum, you press your lips to the mark.

If he had a soul, surely it would leave his body.

“Oh, my love, look at you.” You’re utterly ruined. Unable to resist, he palms at himself through his pants. This does not go unnoticed, and you let out a needy whine. Perpetua snickers. “Yeah? You’re not done yet? You need me to fuck you, too?” A hungry look in your eyes, you nod. At this, he clicks his tongue, though he’s already reaching to undo the laces restraining him. “After all you’ve done today, you think you deserve that?” Your eyes go wide, then well up with fresh tears, and he feels his cock kick as he works to free it.

“Please,” you whimper, suddenly coherent again. “I’ll be so good tomorrow.”

Perpetua imagines you’ll spend most of the day recouping on the bus. There’s not much trouble you can really get into there, unless you rope the ghouls into your schemes. Lucifer save him if you do.

He lets out an embellished sigh. “How is it that you can be such a little shit, and yet I still let you walk all over me?” At last his cock springs free, flushed an angry red and pulsing with the beating of his heart. “You’re spoiled.” He gives himself a few slow, teasing strokes, making a show of pulling back the skin to reveal the head, already slick with precum. “Absolutely rotten.”

The despair on your face quickly transforms into a smug, satisfied grin. You giggle, batting your eyes coquettishly. “I know.” Perpetua just grunts, planting his free hand on your hip and shoving you onto your stomach. He makes quick work of unclipping the garters, then hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugs them down. You shimmy a little, assisting him in the endeavor. Letting go of his cock, he drapes himself over your prone form, planting his knees on either side of your body, and you hiss a little as the coarse fabric of his pants rubs against your skin. One hand threads into your hair, pulling your head up off the mattress, while he holds the other to your lips.

“Spit,” he commands. “It’s all you’re getting.” With perfect obedience, you probe around in your cheek with your tongue, gathering as much saliva as possible, before letting it dribble out into his palm. Perpetua takes his shaft in hand again, slicking himself up with a few lazy strokes, then adjusts his position so that he can drag the tip through your folds.

“Baby,” you whine. You try to spread your legs enticingly, but you’re trapped under the weight of him, pinned to the bed like a butterfly. “Plea-” Perpetua cuts you off, burying himself to the hilt with a single, punishing drive of his hips. The sound that comes out of you cannot possibly be human, halfway between a moan and the yowl of a cat in heat. Still, he gives you no quarter, no time to adjust, before he begins jackhammering into you, chasing his pleasure with reckless abandon.

“I’ll fuck you, alright.” He tugs on your hair and groans, feeling your cunt ripple. Somehow, even after all this time, he’s still never quite prepared for the way you two fit so perfectly, like puzzle pieces clicking together. “But don’t think for a second that I’m letting you finish like this.” You let out a delicious sob, your entire body convulsing beneath him. Even through his clothes, he can feel the heat radiating from your mortified flesh, and the mental image of what your backside will look like in the morning is like a punch in the stomach. Pace faltering, he comes to the jarring realization that he’s not going to last very long. You must be able to sense it as well, because you press your ass into him with each thrust, trying to meet him halfway.

“God, you fucking-” He groans, gut twisting as you clench around him. “You little fucking whore, always causing problems.” The day’s events rearing their ugly head again, Perpetua feels his temper flare. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he takes a deep breath, the sweet scent of your hair grounding him. “I missed you tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” you pant. “I’m so-” A particularly brutal thrust has the head of his cock punching into your cervix. You gasp beneath him, fists balling in the sheets.

“You should always be by my side. Always.” There’s never a moment when he doesn’t want you near. It’s maddening at times, how badly he craves you. “You looked so fucking good tonight. I wanted to take you right there, in front of all those fucking imbeciles, but you kept yourself from me.” He’s rambling, as he tends to do when his end is closing in. “How dare you. How fucking dare-” Suddenly, he’s tumbling over the edge. Hips jerking, his vision goes white, the ecstasy searing down his spine as he spills into you. It’s like every negative feeling he’s had over the last twenty-four hours is purged at once, leaving blissful nothingness in its wake.

He really, really needed this.

When the world comes back into view, Perpetua heaves a sigh. The fatigue in his bones is making its presence known again, a heaviness washing over him as the last traces of his climax ebb away. Feeling wobbly, he disengages carefully, rolling onto his back so that he doesn’t collapse on top of you. He lays like that for a moment, eyes shut, hands folded over his stomach. Fuck, what a night. What a day. What a week. What a life. He knows he needs to get up, drag himself to the bathroom and get the ointment for your ass. He needs to wash off his paints and the sweat that’s accumulated under the mask before he breaks out, but he’s so fucking exhausted, and sleep is already wrapping it’s velvety tendrils around his consciousness, pulling him down, down, down…

Your lips ghost against his hairline, and then the tip of his nose. Perpetua cracks his green eye open and finds you hovering over him, smiling gently as you brush a few locks of his hair away. He’s just beaten your backside black and blue, but there’s nothing in your gaze but adoration. Your eyes are still puffy from crying, your makeup smudged and running down your face, and he swears you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Feel better?”

What you’re still doing with a nasty, selfish old thing like him, he’ll never know. In the beat silence that hangs between you, he thanks the Old One, any power that feels like listening, that you’re here.

“I do,” he says, propping himself up on one elbow to press his lips to yours. It’s the first time he’s properly kissed you all day and it hits him like a drug, a newfound energy coursing through his veins. “Thank you.” You chuckle softly, leaning in for another kiss. Your hands find the clasps at his temples, and under your experienced fingers they click open easily. When you pull the mask away, placing it gently to the side, it’s like a weight has been lifted off Perpetua’s shoulders. With you, he doesn’t have to perform, to be Papa. Himself is enough.

“Of course.” Another quick peck on his cheek. “Now, let’s get you to bed.” You start to get up but he quickly stops you, one hand finding the back of your head and pulling you in again. He nips at your bottom lip once, twice, before he’s licking into your mouth with a pleased little hum. You groan, squirming next to him on the bed, and when he ultimately pulls away, there’s a thread of saliva connecting you.

“Not just yet,” he purrs. You swallow, eyes darting over to the clock on the nightstand, then back to him.

“It’s late, babe. You don’t have to-”

“What kind of man would I be if I left you needing like this?” He barks out a laugh. “If the Clergy found out, I’d be excommunicated.” Perpetua sits up, putting a hand on your shoulder and guiding you to lay on your back. Then he slinks down to the ground, kneeling on the carpet as he grabs your hips and pulls you a little closer. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

Satan below, your cunt is a sight to behold, all slick and pink and throbbing just for him. His arousal echoes distantly at the sight, and for a moment, he laments the limitations that come with his age. A rivulet of his spend is already leaking out you, and the animal part of his brain screams that this is unacceptable. If he were a younger man, he could easily fuck another load into you, but those days are long gone. Time has given him experience, though, and he has other ways of keeping you full.

With his hands on your knees, he parts your legs a bit wider. Finally, he touches the tip of his tongue to your clit, giving it an experimental, little kitten lick. Your entire body tenses, like you’ve been shocked, and it sends a thrill through him.

“Oh! That’s…” He doesn’t give you time to finish the thought, sealing his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking. Your hands fly to his head, fingers twisting in his hair as your hips buck up into his mouth. “Fuck, that’s good. Fuck, baby.” He doesn’t need the encouragement; the taste of you — both of you —  has him hooked already. Perpetua draws a few circles around your clit before he descends, prodding at your opening to coax out more of his seed. With his tongue he scoops up the mess, and when his eyes flick up, he finds you fixated on him, your lower lip caught between your teeth. Grinning, he opens his mouth, letting you see the evidence of his climax, and you shudder. Then, he works the appendage inside you, fucking his cum back where it belongs. The tip of his nose bumps against your clit while he does this, and the noise you make will surely result in a complaint, but he couldn’t care less. Anyone who takes issue with this can eat shit and die.

Eventually, he replaces his tongue with a finger. Your body accepts it greedily, pulling him in like you’re trying to become one mass, and so he gives you another. He crooks the digits just right, delighting in the way you sing for him, heady and full of want. You’re fluttering already, the cocktail of pain and pleasure helping you along nicely. A lock of his hair falls into his face, and before he has the chance, you brush it away for him. Perpetua’s heart swells. It’s a simple gesture, but the gentleness of your touch stands in such stark contrast to the earlier violence, it makes his head spin.

“You perfect thing, taking it so well. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” You hum an affirmative that quickly turns into a moan. He plants a sloppy kiss on the inside of your leg, leaving a smear of cum, spit, and paint behind. “My darling girl. Sei la cocca di papà, vero? Say that you are.” For all the needless bullshit the Clergy has put him through, he will be forever grateful to them for making him learn Italian. It’s become his secret weapon, a surefire way to have your toes curling in a matter of syllables. As expected, your back arches off the bed, thighs squeezing around him.

“I’m yours,” you gasp. “I’m your girl.” He rewards you by attaching his mouth to your clit once again, suckling and teasing it with his tongue while he attacks your sweet spot with his fingers. Your manicured nails dig into his scalp a little harder, battered legs quivering. “Oh, fuck. Fuck me, fuck-” With a breathy cry you come undone, thrashing wildly against Perpetua’s face. He works you through it, unrelenting until you tug on his hair, whining. One last kiss on the softest part of your thigh and he pulls away, his knees protesting as he gets up off the floor. Your chest is heaving, beads of sweat sparkling on your flushed skin, and Perpetua suddenly wants to take back his earlier declaration. The sight of you like this, a beautiful, fucked-out mess, should be for his eyes alone. Not even the Devil, he thinks, is worthy of such a privilege.

Your tired eyes flutter open once your breathing finally evens out. Catching his gaze, you smile, eclipsing the sun in your radiance. You start to sit up, but Perpetua is quick to push you back down.

“Stay here,” he requests. “I’ll be right back.” You nod, flipping onto your stomach while he tucks himself back into his pants. Then, he shuffles to the bathroom and gathers the necessary equipment: a wet washcloth, a glass of water, your makeup wipes, and the healing ointment. When he returns you’re naked and half asleep already, the rest of your undergarments strewn about on the bed. The bruising on your backside is beginning to set in, decorating your flesh with splotches of deep blue and purple. He stares at it for a few moments, face pulled into a grimace. Maybe he did take it too far.

“‘M just fine,” you mumble, reading his mind. “Really.” Snapping out of it, he makes tending to you the focus of his remaining energy, lest he spiral further. He hands you the glass and you accept eagerly, draining it in one long, slow sip. Then you take the wipes, attacking what remains of your makeup while he gets to work on your lower half. With the washcloth he cleans the mess of his release, paints, and your slick from the inside of your thighs. He’s overly careful, as if you’re made of glass, reluctant to inflict any more pain now that the scene is over. When that’s done he takes the tube of ointment and squeezes a generous amount onto the tip of his index finger, the herbal scent of it filling the air. You start a little with the first touch, but quickly relax as we works the balm into your skin, sighing with relief as it takes effect.

By the time Perpetua is finished, you’re asleep. He’s about ready to collapse next to you but forces himself up, dragging his feet back to the bathroom. He does a half-assed job of removing his paints, his eyes still rimmed with black as he strips off the rest of his clothes. Both of you (him especially) reek of sweat and sex, but a shower can wait until the morning. You have to hit the road early, but he’ll be a diva and make the whole crew wait if he has to. He has his priorities.

You grumble a little when he moves you to the head of the bed and tucks you under the covers, but otherwise don’t stir. After hanging up his shirt and jacket he flicks off the light, stumbling in the dark to join you. He’s finally able to indulge in the closeness he’s wanted all day, pulling you into his arms. The weight of you on his chest is a comfort after the long day you’ve both had, and soon, he’s slipping into the realm of sleep as well.

Without a doubt, tomorrow will have its own set of challenges, new problems for him to deal with. For now, though, he’s content, knowing that whatever comes his way, you’ll have his back. You always do.

[serendipitylily]

Just A Ride pt. 2

Logan Howlett x fem!reader x Scott Summers

Summary: Scott decides to share with Logan.

Warnings: nsfw, smut, threesome, oral (m. receiving), p in v, motorcycle sex?, no use of y/n, not proofread

word count: 1.3k

Part one here!

“What the fuck?” Scott’s voice boomed through the hanger, the door slamming shut behind him. He stood frozen for a moment, his chest heaving hard. You felt a sinking sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. 

Scott's eyes were hidden under his crimson shades, but you knew they were staring daggers at you.

Logan slipped his hand out from your jeans, his other hand still remaining on your hip. Logan, who was always quick with an insult, stayed silent with his eyes narrowed at Scott.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, his hands balled up into fists.

“Scott…” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips, your heart hammering in your chest. You were caught off guard by his demeanor, a determination in him that you hadn't seen.

Scott reached you in his stride, his hand moving to grip your waists. Logan pulled back, slightly surprising him—surprising you both.

His lips crashed against yours, kissing you with a fever you had never felt from him before. It was as if he was trying to reclaim you, to remind you of who you belonged to. You felt yourself melting into the familiar but rough touch. You felt a thrill, an excitement in the way Scott was touching you.

He pulled away, his breath ragged as he turned his head to look at Logan. "You think you can take her away from me?" He asked, his voice a low grumble.

Logan raised his eyebrow at the challenge, "Maybe I don't have to" he smirked. "Maybe she wants us both" he got up from the bike to stand next to Scott.

The implications of his words sent a shock through you. You had never imagined Scott being willing to share you; especially with Logan.

Scott's gaze turned back to you, "Is that what you want?" He asked, his hand moving to cup your face. You looked between the two men who were now standing in front of you, their eyes hungry.

With a shaky breath, you nodded, the words barely a whisper. "I want you both."

Without another words Scott pulled you up from the seat into a fierce and demanding kiss. "If you're going to touch her, do it right."

Logan laughed at his words, "Don't think she had any problem with the way I was touching her bub." He moved behind you, his hands gripping your waist to press against his growing bulge.

Scott ignored him, his hands now snaking your shirt up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. Your breath hitched as you were sandwiched between the two of them, their bodies pressing against you in a heated battle of control.

“Please…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with intensity. “I need… I need…”

"Shh baby, I know. I'll take care of you," Scott whispered into the skin of your neck. He moved you over to the bike, pressing your stomach to the seat as he bent you over it.

The feeling of the cool leather against your heated skin sent a shiver through your body.

Scott was positioned behind you, his hands resting possessively on your hips, and Logan in front of you, his intense gaze locked on yours.

"Come on bub, let's give the girl what she wants," Logan said, his voice low and husky. He looked down at you, "You want us both, don't you princess? You want to feel our hands all over you, our cocks inside you?"

You nodded, your breath coming out in short gasps. "Yes," you whispered. "Please, I need you both."

Logan smirked, stepping closer and moving to unbuckle his belt. You could feel Scott behind you, tugging down your pants to reveal your soaked panties.

"Spread your legs baby" Scott purred, his palm pushing your thighs apart. You heard a small moan fall from his lips as he pulled your panties to the side.

You gasped when his finger teased your hole before delving inside, his other arm wrapped around your waist to circle your clit.

Logan couldn't wait any longer and growled as he tugged his jeans down, his girthy cock springing out of its confines. He put his hand on the back of your head, pushing your face against it. "Let me feel that pretty mouth around my cock."

You obeyed immediately, parting your lips and letting him push into your mouth. The feeling of his thick cock sliding into your throat mixed with Scott's fingers thrusting slowly in and out of you sent a wave of pleasure through you.

Scott's fingers curled, hitting that perfect spot that made your knees buckle. He was relentless, his other hand still rubbing your aching clit. Your moans of ecstasy were muffled by Logan's cock.

He moved his fingers out of you, whining at the loss of contact. You were quickly silenced when you felt his cock rubbing against your slick folds.

With a firm grip on your hips, Scott finally pushed into you, his cock stretching you in a way that was both familiar and new. "Fuck baby," he moaned as he completely sheathed himself inside you, .his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm, his cock feeling the tightness of your pussy.

Logan groaned, feeling your throat tense around his cock. You squeezed your eyes shut, each thrust from Scott driving you forward onto Logan, who grunted with each deep push into your throat.

“Fuck, she’s so wet,” Scott murmured from behind you. 

“Such a good girl,” Logan praised, his voice rough with arousal as he watched you, his free hand moving to cup your breast, his fingers pinching your sensitive nipple. “Taking us both like this.”

Scott, feeling your body tense, increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. "You like that, baby? You like having both of us inside you?"

Logan felt his cock twitch in your hot mouth, your throat working around his hard length, his balls slapping against your chin. You were trying your best not to gag as his tip brushed the back of your throat. 

You felt his hand grip your hair, tugging on it hard. Your eyes screwed shut, a whimper leaving your lips as you gripped Logan’s thighs for support. 

“Shh baby you can take it” Scott told you, leaning over you and leaving kisses down your spine as he thrusts into you. 

“She’s fine Summers” Logan growled, “don’t pretend she doesn’t like it a little rough.” He was staring down at you, reveling in the sight of your mouth filled with his cock. 

Scott’s grip on your hips tightened slightly in response, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down to kiss the side of your neck, his lips trailing down to your shoulder. 

He could feel your walls pulsating around his cock, a signal you were reaching your peak. “She’s close,” Scott murmured, his voice low. 

“Is that right darlin’?” Logan growled, “you gonna come for us?” All you could do in groan around his cock in affirmation. 

Your body was on fire, your body feeling every sensation with a new intensity. Logan pulled out of your mouth, stroking himself vigorously as he watched your face contorted in pleasure. 

Scott’s fingers continued to massage and pinch your clit, pushing you to the brink. Your back arched, a guttural moan leaving your throat. The orgasm waved through you as if there was an explosion inside you.

Logan grunted, “come here” he demanded, shoving his cock in your throat. He didn’t give you a chance to recover, both his hands pushed the back of your head, using your mouth to chase his releases. 

“Fuck” He cursed, his hips pistoning himself in and out of your mouth. It wasn’t long until you felt his seed shoot down your throat. You quickly

Scott pulled out of you, his cock leaving a trail of cum between your thighs. He leaned over you, kissing the side of your neck.

"You did great." His hands lingered on your hips. 

Logan smirked, wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye with a rough thumb, then planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

You took a shaky breath, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you. "You okay?" Scott asked.

You nodded, smiling faintly. "More than okay."

So sorry this took so long! Classes just started for me so i've been busy hehe :3 Tags: @junnniiieee07 @edenoir @starlightszzs @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink @journal3sposts @pwpwppeepeoor @izzy-stradlin-1991

[gdinthehouseee]

Look At Me: KANG DAESUNG x READER

summary: you decide to visit your boyfriend while he's shooting a music video, and you notice the actresses getting a little too bold.

word count: 2326

tags: SMUT; jealousy, possessiveness, dom!reader and sub!daesung, oral (m receiving), cock worship, praise, p in v sex, fluff at the end

ao3 link special thanks to @infinetlyforgotten @loveesiren and @berfgrimm for providing me with the inspo i needed to get through this <33

You had planned to surprise Daesung today, wanting to watch him film his latest music video. You had imagined yourself sitting back, enjoying the sight of your man working hard, maybe even sneaking a few playful winks at you between takes.

But that wasn’t what happened.

Instead, you sat stiffly in the background, watching as the actresses on set got way too comfortable with him. It started with small touches—subtle, but intentional. A brush of fingers over his arm. A playful nudge that lingered too long. Giggling at things that weren’t remotely funny. Then, it escalated. One of them ran her manicured fingers over his chest under the pretense of adjusting his jacket. Another playfully smacked his shoulder but let her palm linger.

The worst part? Daesung barely noticed. He just smiled, nodding along, laughing in that warm, infectious way of his. He was being his usual friendly, kind-hearted self, and they knew it. They knew he wasn’t the type to pull away rudely. They knew exactly what they were doing—pushing boundaries, waiting to see if they could get a reaction. And oh, they were getting one.

Just not from him.

You stayed quiet, your lips curving into a deceptively neutral smile. But inside? You were fuming. The only thing stopping you from marching over and putting an end to their shameless flirting was the knowledge that Daesung was genuinely clueless about the attention he was receiving. That didn’t mean you weren’t going to do something about it. No, you would.

Just not here.

It wasn’t until you had stepped into the bedroom, later that night, when everything cracked. He was sat on the edge of the bed, tugging his t-shirt off and throwing it across the room. Tomorrow’s problem, no doubt. You crossed the room in easy, confident strides and he looked up, his usual soft smile adorning his lips as he went to speak. He didn’t get a word out before you rested your hands on his face and captured said lips in a greedy kiss.

He kissed back enthusiastically, like he always did, before you broke it to drop your forehead against his.

“Those actresses got a little bold today, don’t you think?” 

His heart stuttered in his chest, finally getting the answer to your oddly distant demeanour from the shoot and your sudden affection. He knew exactly what this was, and he felt himself getting harder by the second.

“I barely even noticed,” he whispered, staring up at you while your hands lazily dragged down to his bare chest.

“They thought they could test the limits,” you continued. “But they forgot something.”

“What’s that?” 

“That I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

Stood between his legs, you pushed him just firm enough that he fell back against the bed, and you took this opportunity to unfasten his belt, slide his jeans down his legs, and palm him through his boxers. You felt his cock twitch before his hips bucked, wanting—needing—more friction. Heat pooled between your legs at the sight. 

“Jagi…” he mumbled, unable to hide his panting. 

“Hm? What's wrong, love?” You tilted your head innocently, as if you weren't just about to press down a little more while your other hand rubbed the inside of his thigh. 

He instinctively opened his legs a little wider, squirming under your touch. “Need more—” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah—” 

“Ask nicely.” You demanded, slightly speeding your hand up on his dick while his hips bucked up once more. 

“Ah, please,” he said. “I need more, jagi.”

Before you could say anything else, he reached down in hopes of moving your hands—but you were quicker. You kept your hand on his dick while your other hand moved from his thigh to catch his wrist; you barely caught the little whimper that escaped his lips. 

“I didn’t tell you to touch, did I?”

“N-no…”

“Keep your hands to yourself, sweetheart.” You began, as you finally pulled down his boxers, his erection painfully springing free. “If you can be good for me… I’ll reward you.” 

Daesung didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to when he started to kick his legs a little to shove the rest of his clothes off, and you couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his desperation. Then, he moved back so he could prop himself up against the headboard while you climbed onto the bed and straddled his thigh. His hands dug into the sheets as your hand finally wrapped around his cock.

You started pumping it at an agonisingly slow pace. His dick throbbed under your delicate touch, and he wanted to be good for you—he really did—but he couldn’t stop himself from jerking up a little, still so desperate for more. You leaned forward to trail kisses down his neck, nipping at his burning skin, and sucking so hard to ensure there would be marks. 

“Jagi—” he gasped, eyes fluttering shut.

“Patience, sweetheart.” You whispered, taking in the way it sent a shiver down his spine. 

Enjoying the teasing a little too much, you trailed kisses and bites further down his body until you had to sit up again so you could reposition. You shifted so that you laid in between his thighs. Enjoying the sight of him practically squirming under your touch, you continued to scatter more kisses and bites on the inside of his thighs before licking a stripe from the base all the way to the tip. 

Immediately, his eyes shot open to get a good look of you savouring the way his sweet pre-cum tasted. He opened his mouth to speak, cutting himself off with a groan as his half-lidded eyes stared into your own as you took his length in your mouth. 

You bobbed your head on it, going as far as you could on his cock and ignoring the tears pricking at your eyes as he hit the back of your throat with another buck of his hips. His shy whimpers quickly became stuttered moans. Music to your ears. You teased him with a muffled moan that practically vibrated around his length, which sent another shiver down his back.

“Fuck, o-oh jagi…” he whined. 

Your hand momentarily returned to pumping him as you let yourself breathe for a moment. “I love this cock so much, always making me feel so good.” You whisper, before quickly licking the underside of it. 

He threw his head back at the sensation, unable—or, unwanting—to stop his breathy moans. 

“Isn't that right, baby?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“And this…” you squeezed it a little for emphasis. “This is all mine, isn't it?” 

“M-mhmm.” He mumbled again. 

You moved to continue sucking Daesung off, your own arousal soaking your panties when he let out another whine and snapping his hips up yet again. Desperate. So desperate for something; anything. So desperate for more. Such a needy little thing. 

“Sweetheart.” You sat back up again. His eyes shot open and he looked down to meet your seductive gaze. “What did I say? Be good and I'll reward you.”

“I— fuck.” He stuttered out as you stood to discard of your bra and panties. Then, you slowly crawled over to straddle him with ease. His dick strained painfully against your entrance. You didn't miss the way how his fingers curled further into the sheets, holding on for dear life. 

“Use your words.” You ordered, one hand landing on his neck as a warning, while the other trailed down his toned chest.

He nearly came from your possessiveness alone. “Please,” he whimpered. “I need more. Please, jagi.”

“What do you need?” 

“Please—”

Your hand tightened around his throat, just enough for him to let out another stuttered breath. Another warning. “Be a good boy and tell me.”

“I-I need to fuck you,” he began. “I wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“You wanna be my good boy?” You whispered. 

He let out another whine, so you leaned forward to press a hungry kiss to his lips—he eagerly kissed back—and to line your entrance up with his strained cock. Your nails dug into his chest and neck.

“Be still for me, baby. No cumming until I say so.” 

With him melting under your touch, and using the previous mix of slick and spit as lube, you finally sunk down onto his length. Both of you let out a moan at the feeling. This wasn't the first time, and certainly not the last, but you couldn't help the way your walls clenched around him. You could practically taste the dominance slipping away as he took the opportunity to buck his hips and fuck you from underneath. His now sweaty hands gripped your plush thighs like his only lifeline. 

“Just like that, baby.” Your breathy praise only egged him on further, his thrusts growing sloppier; desperate. 

“Does this feel good, jagi?” Daesung tried to at least pretend to have some sort of authority. His whines said otherwise. 

Instead of answering, you moved your hands to cup his face and capture his swollen lips in yet another desperate kiss. Your tongue swiped out at his bottom lip, using his sudden gasp as a way into his mouth, and the two of you continued to ‘silently’ argue over who really had the power here. It definitely wasn’t him. Not with the way he shivered under your wandering hands, not with the way he whimpered every time he buried his dick deep inside you, and especially not with the way he melts under you. Both during sex and during any sort of affection. 

“Fuck, o-oh jagiya.” He whined again. He was fully squirming under you now, slamming into you with frantic thrusts. Telltale signs he was close. Not that you were in a better state, but you couldn’t not finish what you started. 

“You’re all mine, hmm?” It was more of a statement than a question. “Isn’t that right, Daesung baby?” 

“Ah, mhmm.” He mumbled, barely keeping his eyes open. 

“Use your words. Let me hear you say it.” You dug your nails into his shoulders. 

“I’m all yours—oh, f-fuck…” 

“That’s it, sweetheart. All mine.” 

You grinded your hips against Daesung’s, his hands moving from your thighs to your waist as he leaves a trail of hot kisses down your neck before he sighs again.

“Please,” he says before hiding his face against your collarbone, his warm breath fanning over your even warmer skin. “Please, jagi, I’m so close.” 

“Then come for me. Be a good boy.”

With that, he fucked you with a few more desperate thrusts. Tears of pleasure formed in your eyes as he hit your sweet spot, your moans only encouraged him further. He loved being the only man who could make you like this. Your walls clenched around him one last time before you finally felt him release inside you with a final strained groan, your own juices leaking out around his dick; your own whimper escaping your lips.

Coming down from the euphoria, the two of you stayed there for a moment, the only movement were your chests heaving as you both tried to catch your breath and steady your heartbeats. You had to tear your eyes away from his parted, kiss-swollen lips before you got any more ideas. Instead, you smooth his hair back from his forehead, smiling down at him with that confident glint he knows too well.

“Damn,” he breathes, voice wrecked. “You really didn’t like the way they were looking at me, huh?”

You raise a brow, brushing your fingers down his chest with a slow, teasing drag.

“I didn’t mind the looking,” you say smoothly. “They can look all they want. I just wanted to remind you whose hands you come home to.”

You pause for a moment before climbing off him, his cock slipping out of you, earning a sharp exhale from him. It wasn’t like the state you were in was any better. With your shaky legs, you stood up and momentarily retreated into the bathroom for a washcloth and towel so you could at least have some wholesome affection tonight.

As you clean him up—almost like an apology for your possessiveness—with a softer expression now, you tried not to think about how he hadn’t taken his eyes off you once. He decided to take your free hand and press a kiss to each of your knuckles. 

“You didn’t have to remind me,” he says, eyes locked with yours. “But... I’m not gonna lie. I loved that you did.”

You smirk, leaning down to kiss the edge of his jaw. “What’d you expect me to do? Sit still and look pretty?”

He groans and throws an arm over his eyes, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. “You are pretty. But damn—I didn’t stand a chance.”

You kiss your way down his throat, then pull back just enough to wipe the sweat from his body with the towel beside the bed. He shivers at your touch, the afterglow still clinging to him like a second skin.

“I like seeing them watch you,” you admit. “Because they don’t know what happens when we’re alone.”

He peeks at you from under his arm. “What happens when we’re alone?”

You grin slowly, settling beside him and pulling the blanket over both your bodies.

“I take you home, ruin you a little, then hold you until you forget anyone else even looked your way.”

He lets out a low, wrecked laugh, turning to bury his face into your neck once more. “You’re so cocky when I’m like this,” he mumbles against your skin. “I love it.”

You hum, fingers sliding through his messy hair as you kiss the crown of his head. You can feel his content smile against your bare skin. He sighs, arms curling tighter around your waist.

“Let them have their fantasies, Daesung, you’re mine.” 

“That’s what I like to hear.”

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so uh... first smut fic how we feeling?? xd

[stxrrkissed]

── ۶ৎ QUICK RELEASE .ᐟ

꣑ꦌ jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader ৴ LENGTH 1.1k

DESCRIPTION after an altercation at his job, jj needs your help in order to calm down.

CONTENT angry!jj ꣑ slight mention of luke (ew) ꣑ blowjob ꣑ p in v ꣑ creampie.

THOUGHTS another addition posted from my kinktober event that i didn't get to finish, only three more left to finish. i think that this is my first smut fic for the obx fandom.

𝒾. mlist 𝒾𝒾. previous fic 𝒾𝒾𝒾. prompts 𝒾𝓋. based on this ask

TODAY HAS BEEN A VERY BUSY DAY, you would think your job is giving something away with how many people there were. You locate your punch in card, indicating that you’re going on lunch. 

You need the break, with how overwhelming working at the country club can get from time to time. Plus you saw your boyfriend going on break just a few minutes ago and you wanted to spend some time with him.

But the first thing you do is head to the kitchen to pick up the food you asked your friend to make for you, she always hooks you up which is why you love working with her other than your boyfriend. “Thanks Nayeli, you’re the best,” you praise as you pull her in for a quick hug. 

“No problem, enjoy your food.” 

You make your way to you and jj’s secret spot knowing he’ll be there waiting for you, you found the place the first day you started work there when you got lost. No one really goes there so it is just you two spending time together there. 

You open the door and there is your blond boyfriend pacing back and forth as if he’s planning to dig a hole in the ground, a frown sits on your face as you watch him, clearing your throat to announce that you’re there. 

JJ looks at you though furrow eyebrows that only soften a little when he sees you, you could tell how angry he was by how red his face was. “What’s wrong?” You query, setting down your food in a safe spot, walking up to him, softly placing your hands on his waist. 

“I can’t fucking wait to quit this place!” He rambles, not answering what you had asked but you stand there and listen. “These customers are so fucking annoying, it took so much not to curse them out.”

“All of them have fucking attitudes like I won’t spit in their food!” JJ spoke, inhaling and exhaling as he went on. “Fuck customers are always right policy, all of them can go fuck themselves!” he curses, you run your hand up and down his chest, knowing how much he loves when you do that. “I know you’re upset and you have every right to be but remember why you got this job,” you speak softly. 

“You got bills you need to pay and not to mention your father will be on your case and I know you don’t want that,” you continue, looking into his blue eyes. “I know this job can be much at times but you need it, I don’t want you getting fired for losing your cool.” you add. 

“I know but I can’t go back out there, I’m way too angry and I might just snap at the first person that annoys me.” 

An idea pops up into your mind, separating yourself from him a bit as you walk up to the door, locking it with the lock, you know no one will come here as many don’t know about this spot but just in case, they couldn’t get in. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Shh, I know exactly what’s going to change your mood,” you say, standing in front of him again, going down to squat position, your hands wasting no time to unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants, and pulling his pants along with his boxers down, watching how his semi hard dick springs up, aching for your attention. 

You wrap a hand around his shaft, bringing your lips to the tip, giving it a kiss. 

You swirl your tongue around his pinkish tip as you give his shaft a few pumps before parting your lips to take him into your mouth. Your saliva makes it easy to slide his length down your throat. You look up to him, making sure that he’s enjoying it, his brows are knitting together as he lets out small moans making your cunt clench around nothing, making you wish that his cock was inside of you right now.

You begin to move your head up and down, sucking in your cheeks to cause more friction. JJ lets out a groan as he looks down at you, thinking of how pretty you look as you continuously bobble your head like a toy as you take his erect pulsating cock down your throat, occasionally the tip brushing past your gag reflex.

You love how much he’s enjoying you giving him head, seeing how relaxed he is than before. You bring your free hand under your skirt, placing it on your clit, moving your fingers over it in circles, moaning onto his cock, your fingers getting drench with your juices. 

“Shit…” JJ curses under his breath, your mouth was like magic to him. Working your way up from his base to the tip, massaging his balls and all he could feel was pleasure, all the anger he felt, fading away while he watches you do your thing.

“Babe, you’re making me feel so good,” he moans, not taking his eyes off of you, watching how you play with your pussy, hearing the squishy noise that comes out of it. You look up at him with tear filled eyes as you hold your position while drool makes its way down your chin.

“Hold on babe,” JJ starts, knowing how close he was. “I want to cum inside of you, can I?” 

“Yes,” you nod your head, getting up to bend over on one of the tables, spreading your legs wide open as JJ lines up the tip of his dick to your sopping hole after putting your panties to the side. He slowly slides his length into you, stopping once his pelvis flushes against the swell of your ass before starting to rock his hips, holding your leg up to reach a deeper spot. 

Your shared moans filling the room as he pounds deep into your aching core. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you, indicating that he’s about to cum.

“Ahhh fuck…” he flushes against your ass once more, painting your gummy walls with his hot seed, breathing heavily as he drains every last drop inside of you. 

“Mmm… I’m happy that I could get you to feel better,” you stumble out. “We should get back to work now.”

You try to get up but he places a hand on your back to refrain you from doing so. “Nuh uh, we ain’t done until you cum baby, the customers can wait a few more minutes.” JJ smirks as he continues his torture on your greedy cunt.

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