#[ You're good at leaving me breathless aren't you
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tzyunaes · 2 months ago
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LOOSE 爱。 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒
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SUCCINCT ੭୧ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅.
【文库】 𓈒ㅤ𝑓𝖾𝗆 ! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 ────── 1THO&2Hㅤ◞ ◟ㅤ𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗌𝗎𝗀 𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 🍴   𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉&𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀
제니 ‎ ‎: ‎ ‎ ‎for @flwrstqr ♡
reblog&cl𝒾ck
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HEESEUNG
one thing about heeseung was, which he never tried to hide was how insanely down bad he was for you and definitely wasn't planning on doing when you just fueled into it. “oh…dear god,” he almost gasped, his eyes stuck on your alluring form, when you walked out of your room after spending hours to getting ready, you were so goddamn gorgeous it hurt. he walked closer to you, his breathes been already taken away and the moment he got a whiff of your perfume, he was done for. could you blame him? your scent was intoxicating, hell, everything about you was so intoxicating to him. “fuck, y/n.. you are doing this on purpose, aren't you?” he whispered as he nudged his face in the crook of your neck, as if he's been touch-starved for years, you chuckled, “you're such a loser, hee.” he grinned, his voice muffled as he continued peppering your neck with kisses, “well, i am your loser.”
JAY
jay adored you and he always showed it in every way possible. one of them was cooking dinner for you no matter how the day was. but to his surprise you decided to make this day different by trying to cook for him. jay almost choked on his saliva when he saw you in the kitchen, wearing his shirt, catching him flustered. you smiled when you saw him standing there breathless and walked over to him, “jay baby, are you okay?” he finally exhaled, his hands sneaked around your waist, “can’t promise after seeing you looking all so cuddly and princess-y in my shirt, doll.” his gaze on you being so tender as if you were a porcelain doll, you giggled, trying to ignore the rising heat on your cheeks, “i was trying to cook dinner for you..” he glanced over at the kitchen for a second before looking back at you with a smirk on his face, “yeah? then let me keep you for the dessert, angel.”
JAKE
dolled up, you got inside of the passenger seat of the car where jake was already waiting for you, wearing a pretty mini skirt that rode up to your thighs, oh well, jake was a already down horrendous lovesick puppy for you and he did not bother to hesitate to show it. his lips fell out of each other breathless, his hungry eyes shamelessly checking out your curves. “do i look okay?” you asked while adjusting your dress, “oh, don't play, doll. you literally look like a goddess. i am devoted good lord.” his voice barely more than a whisper before he leaned in to kiss your knuckles. he went back to his seat, hands already reaching out to caresses your thighs as he began to drive, you can be assured that he wasn't going to let you, his pretty princess, go out of his sight for the night at all.
SUNGHOON
“yes and one strawberry matcha latte and for my husband— i would like to order—,” hearing the word “husband” roll off your tongue like it was the most obvious thing to be said, like ever, sunghoon froze on his seat. you were still on the phone unaware of the effect you had on him, his face flushed in heat. his lips curled into a folded smile, he never tried to hide that you got him wrapped around your finger. “husband, huh?” he said, pulling you onto his lap from the other side of the couch, “say it again,” “huh?” you looked at him in confusion for a moment, his hands rode up from your waist to your abdomen, “say it again wifey, please,” he plead while leaving a trail of kisses on your neck from the back that made your heart beat faster, “husband, do you may perhaps want me?” you teased and he smirked, “oh let me show you how much i want you, angel.”
SUNOO
no matter how much sunoo tried— tho honestly, he didn't but— he could not take his eyes off you, cause you were simply just way too captivating that his throat felt dry when he looked at you. he was sitting on the couch, his gaze intensely lingered on your body, you casually placed the hair tie between your lips and pulled your hair in a ponytail, there was something about the way your fingers ran through your silky locks, and the graceful arch of your neck exposed by the simple act of tying up your hair that sent his imagination reeling. for a moment, he could almost feel the ghost of your touch against his skin, he was far too down bad. it didn't take long for him to get up and take two more steps across the room and to you, to your surprise, of course. “fuck, y/n… can you let me breathe,” his voice hitched into a whisper, you drove him insane by anything you did at this point.
JUNGWON
jungwon was talking about his day and you were supposed to just listen but you were one woman of simplicity who couldn't but stare at her boyfriend’s lips for a long period of time. his voice trailed off and he began to look at you, noticing your hungry gaze on his lips. his words stuck on his throat, his heart racing under your gaze, he swallowed hard, “is it that fascinating, darling?” “well, it is when you don't—” he abruptly cuts you off midway, already pushing your tongue back into your mouth with his, as he gently cupped your face. his breath hitched, “don't look at me like that when you know you drive me crazy, doll. i am weak on my knees for you and i don't know how to hide it."
RIKI
riki stood towering over you, his tall figure made the slight height difference between you two more noticeable. as you tried to reach to his lips to give him his precious good morning kiss, he realized you had to stand on your tiptoes, pink hue flushed across his face and he hid a far too affectionate smile, he tried to brush away the feeling and teased, "can't reach me up here, can you shorty?" and the pout in response you gave didn't help either, you were so adorable he might just die, “i sometimes want to put you in my pocket, angel,” he retorted with a lovesick smile and finally stooped down, bringing his face closer to yours and bending down for a tender kiss which might just last for a while.
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threadbearsweater · 6 months ago
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one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan
When you find yourself taken in by a gang of outlaws, the last thing you expect is to grow sweet on one of them- and have the feelings reciprocated. Arthur Morgan doesn't have time for romantic nonsense, but a few memebers of the gang want to make sure that he gets to indulge in his obvious affection toward you. Tags: 3.9k words, an unlikely romance, meddling gang members (with the purest of intentions, one might suppose); female reader, alcohol use, smoking, emotional smut. A repost from a (regretfully) deactivated blog.
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Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now.
“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs.
“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.
“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”
You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.
Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.
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“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”
The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess.
“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.
“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”
“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”
She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”
You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.
Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”
You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?”
Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”
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A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house.
“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”
“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”
“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight.
Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”
There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers.
Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.
“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.
Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch.
“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.
“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips.
“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench.
“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”
He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…”
You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.
There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.”
“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.
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The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.
“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”
You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.
Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.
“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road.
Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”
You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.
“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.”
“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”
The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.
You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.”
It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed.
“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.
“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.
“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.
Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)
You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.
“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.
“Could ask you the same thing.”
“Well, you started it.”
“And you finished it.”
“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”
“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.
“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.
“It's a promise,” he whispers.
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You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed.
The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.
“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.
He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.
“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”
You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.
“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”
It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above.
You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”
Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”
Now you remember it in vivid detail.
“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”
“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”
“I ain't no damn–”
“Kiss me.”
He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours.
Things get heated quickly.
His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.
“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him.
“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible.
“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grabbed at each other like it was the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you wanted more than what the other of you was able to give.
Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.
“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”
Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.
There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”
Your moans are what drive him over the edge.
He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.
Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours.
You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”
Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”
“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”
“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”
You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”
He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”
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lilithslittleworld · 1 year ago
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New To This
A/N: I made a poll a few weeks ago about wanting to write a new smut with several different scenarios/characters with a winner of "Jacob Black x Reader"!
I initially wanted to write a really steamy, sexy scene but it ended up evolving into a steamy but also loving/fluffy sex scene! *i feel like this is werewolf Jacob meets cute, pre-wolf Jacob* I hope you all enjoy ;)
(PS: Nessie does not and will not exist in this fanfic, aka you and Jacob will live happily ever after. Also both of you are 18 or above ).
Summary: A few weeks after Bella and Edward's wedding, Jacob teaches you how to cliff dive. You're sure you could teach him a few things too...
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The wind howled viciously, sending your hair flying in every direction and shivers that racked your body. You stepped closer to the cliff's edge, peering slightly over to catch a glimpse of the angry waves below.
Jacob stood behind you, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he scowled at you. "This is a terrible idea," he huffed, his dark eyebrows pinching in worry.
Jacob never wore shirts, or at least that's what it seemed like. "It was your idea," you reminded him. Jacob glared at you in response but took a step forward.
"You're really going to do this, aren't you?" he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. It was a silly question to ask, since you both knew the answer.
"You better believe it," you grinned back at him. You pulled off your thick coat, leaving it folded on a rock beside Jacob's truck. You two would have to come back up for both sooner or later and the idea of being weighed down by a water-soaked winter coat didn't sound ideal. Your boots came off as well, for good measure.
The cold made your hands sting, turning your knuckles an angry red as you stood in your thin, long sleeved shirt, jeans, and socks. Jacob on the other hand, stood comfortably, despite lacking a shirt and in shorts.
"H-how are you not freezing?" you asked incredulously, your teeth chattering, "It's the middle of December!"
"I'm just a little hotter than most," Jacob winked at you, holding out a hand. "Ready whenever you are."
You rolled your eyes at him but brought your hand to his. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger they were, most of Jacob was anyway. They were also exceptionally warm just as you had expected. Maybe he did run warmer than the rest of people...
"Okay," you breathed, as Jacob guided you both to the cliff's edge, the waters below you lapped furiously at the rocky coast, "On the count of three. One, two, th-"
And suddenly you were falling. You screamed at Jacob for not having respected the countdown but it was useless, the fall was short and the wind howled even louder as you plummeted into the cold, dark water.
Your body sank like a stone, the weight pulling you down deeper into the frigid water. You thrashed your arms, desperate to make it to the surface once again. Thousands of little ice-like knives sank into your skin with every movement. You wondered how Jacob was handling the cold. But there were more important things to think about now. You were running out of air.
Now only a few feet from the surface, you felt a strong arm pulling you up towards it at an incredible speed. Your head broke through the surface, your mouth opening automatically to gasp the free air greedily. As your panic started to ebb, your sight began to unblur slowly, taking in your surroundings and the breathless boy before you.
"Y/N!" Jacob gasped, partially due to the little stunt he'd pulled with the jump, having swam around to find you, and worry. "Can you hear me?"
You nodded quickly, taking into account how clogged your ears were. "I'm good," you croaked, followed by a tamer fit of coughing.
Jacob wrapped a protective arm around you, dragging you along with him as his legs and free arm paddled you both towards the shore. You protested at first until it became clear that you were unable to swim that distance and that Jacob would never let you go.
"That was fun," you noted cheerfully, as the ocean floor below you began to rise enough for Jacob to stand. It would take you a little longer to reach.
"Yeah, well it's never happening again," he scoffed, wading out of the shallow water, "You could've died." You watched as little water droplets dripped from his short hair down his toned back and shoulders, secretly hoping swimming with him would happen again soon.
It was no secret that you were attracted to Jacob. Besides, he rarely hid the fact that he was interested in you as well. You two had met at Bella Swan's wedding. It wasn't a great introduction, to say the least, but it eventually blossomed into whatever this was. Jacob was always honest about what he felt but he had never made any grandiose confessions or even really specified what you were to him, apart from a girl he liked. He was careful around you.
Jacob's voice interrupted your thoughts and so did the cold. "You're going to freeze to death if you stay in there," he called out, a hint of superiority in his voice.
"Stupid fireboy," you muttered under your breath, as you dragged your nearly numb legs forward. He was right. Your fingers had started to turn blue and you became aware of how little of your body you could feel.
"What was that?" he grinned, amused at your suddenly cranky mood.
"Oh, I know you heard me," you hissed, swatting his arms away as he tried to pull you into them. "Stupid supersonic hearing."
Jacob laughed, clearly still thrilled. "Come here," he said, scooping you into his arms. You were so grateful for the warmth that radiated from his skin that you said nothing as he carried you across the woods.
"I could teach you thing too, you know," you said sullenly, watching the little beach disappear from your sight.
"I'm sure you could," he replied, "But no one's teaching anyone anything until you're out of these wet clothes and showered."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Was he intending to shower with you? You had never done more than makeout with this boy but the idea of him in a shower with you sent your pulse overboard.
Neither of you said anything else until Jacob's house. You had never really been inside before. Any ideas you had of it were based on the little you had been able to see when you peeked through the front door, waiting for Jacob in other occasions. Now, you stepped through the doorframe, taking in the small but cozy house.
Jacob walked you towards a little wooden door. "My room," he noted quietly, scratching his neck embarrassed, as you peered inside. It had a twin bed, a wooden desk, and a handful of tiny, wooden sculptures. On his bedframe, right above his pillow, hung a delicate dreamcatcher.
How many times had you imagined his room? Now you were in it, your past daydreams and fantasies coming to life.
"Do you want to shower first?" Jacob asked, pulling out a clean towel from the bathroom closet. Oh.
"Sure," you said, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the slight disappointment that dripped in your voice. This was, after all, the first time in his house, he wasn't going to rush into anything just because you were here.
Showering brought back the humanness in you that had been lost to the cold. Your skin returned to its normal feel, slightly tingly from the warm water and you could now feel every inch of yourself. You lathered yourself up in soap, scrubbing extra in all the places that might be the slightest bit smelly. You washed your hair too, getting rid of any sand or seaweed that had found its way there.
You wrapped yourself in the large towel that Jacob had given you, grateful that it covered you almost entirely. With the edge of the towel, you wiped away a circle on the foggy mirror. You looked almost the same as you had this morning, which was a relief.
Jacob sat on his bed, fiddling with his hands as you tiptoed into his room.
"You can go," you said softly. Jacob looked up at you. You could tell he was trying his hardest to keep his eyes on yours. A hint of blush spread along his face, as his eyes made their way down from your mouth to your neck and finally landing on your collarbones.
Jacob stood up quickly, pulling pieces of clothing from his drawers. "Cool," he smiled at you, "Don't go anywhere."
Jacob's room felt cozy, even with just you in it. Your hands unfolded the lumps of cloth he had laid out for you: one oversized t-shirt and a pair of what seemed to be old boxer shorts. You pulled them on gratefully, now really feeling warm and cleaned up. They smelled like Jacob, a scent that sent your heart into an excited flutter.
The sound of running water sent an excited shiver down your spine. You had imagined Jacob showering so many times on your own, taking your time to really focus on what he did in there. If only you could see him now. The idea of Jacob naked now, made your breath hitch in the back of your throat.
The silence broke your train of thought. Jacob would be back in his room in just minutes and here you were, fantasizing and hyperventilating over him. You sat down on the edge of his bed, making an effort to take deep breaths, an attempt to look as normal as possible. You sat awkwardly on the corner of his bed, trying hard not to be suggestive or the opposite of that.
Jacob walked in, his hair still damp and holding the tightly wrapped towel around his hips. Your eyes made their way to where his towel met his bare skin, your imagination wild. Seeing him now was so different to all the other times, this time there was almost nothing between you except a little towel, ironically.
"Enjoying the view?" Jacob's voice pierced the deafening silence but his playful tone didn't match his eyes. His deep, dark eyes burned into your own, a want behind them that was almost palpable. You felt your face growing warm at his words but there was not an ounce of regret in you.
"I think you're wearing far too much clothes," you answered boldly, an answer he seemed to enjoy as you watched a smile creep onto his lips.
"You're one to talk," he chuckled, turning away from you as he searched for his next change of clothes.
"I think that's an easy problem to solve," you said softly, pulling off the boxers you wore and tossing them over to him. Jacob caught them easily, pulling them on quickly before dropping the towel.
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. He was getting dressed, not undressed. You felt stupid now, feeling significantly naked despite the dress-like shirt that covered you.
Jacob seemed to pick up on your puzzled expression. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously, exhaling before he spoke. "I've never done this."
It actually came as a great surprise that Jacob was a virgin. You had expected him to be fairly experienced, given his attitude and the obvious physical attractiveness. Now you were thrown off your game.
"I-I really thought you had," you confessed, "A few times actually."
Jacob shook his head, his eyes still trained intently on the floor. "Never really got the chance," he said softly.
A pang hit your heart. Jacob seemed truly embarrassed and almost hurt. It had never been your intention to make him feel bad about the matter. You knew something had hurt him far before your had come along. You didn't know much about his past attachment to Bella Swan but you were sure that she wasn't a person that had brought him much joy during that time.
"It's okay, Jake," you assured him gently, "I was just curious but it doesn't matter."
Jacob brought his gaze up to you, his eyes soft. "I'd like to try but I don't want to hurt you, Y/N."
"You won't hurt me, Jake," you replied, walking over to him before reaching your hand out to his. He took your hand in his, the warmth of his skin spreading all over you.
You pulled him towards you, your eyes never leaving his. "You have to promise me that you'll tell me if I hurt you," Jacob said earnestly, his grip on your hand tightening faintly.
"I trust you," you whispered, wrapping an arm around his neck, placing your other hand on the side of his face.
Jacob leaned his face against your hand momentarily before taking your face in his hands, pressing his lips softly against yours. It was no surprise that his lips were just as warm as the rest of him. A shiver ran down your back as you kissed him back, your lips moving gently against his. Your hands found their way to his hair, running your fingers through it. Jacob groaned, pulling you closer to him, his breath quickening. Soon, every bit of you was touching him, every inch of skin against him. You could feel the little droplets of sweat beading on your forehead and running down your back from the heat of his body.
The need for him gnawed at you, the flutters in your stomach grew as Jacob took you into his arms, your legs straddling his hips. A ripple of pleasure went through you as you made contact with his hardened length, barely concealed by the boxers you'd thrown at him earlier. Jacob walked you over to his bed, his strong arms holding you up against him, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down slowly, placing a steady hand against the mattress on either side of your body.
You brought you lips back to his eagerly, hoping he wouldn't be as careful with you anymore. You knew you weren't going to get anywhere as long as Jacob tiptoed around you. You were going to set the pace. Your kisses deepened as you ran your fingertips lightly down his neck towards his chest, Jacob's breathless sighs mixing with yours as you touched him. Your fingers trailed down along his chest, making their way towards the edge of his boxers. You could feel Jacob's stomach quivering as you brought your touch closer to him. You wanted so badly to feel him trembling beneath your hands.
You dipped a finger under the band of his boxers. He felt so much warmer than anywhere else. You wanted to feel that heat everywhere. Jacob's breath hitched when your hand came in contact with him, so hard and hot on your fingertips. Instinctually, you wrapped your hand around his throbbing length, not surprised its size. He was so big. You brought your gaze back up to Jacob, who now had his eyes shut tightly and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You watched him as you gave him lazy, long strokes, practically drooling at the noises that came out of his mouth. He looked so beautiful, so lost in your touch, his muscular arms beginning to shake as he kept himself propped up above you. A finger rubbed softly against his already wet tip brought a strangled moan out from Jacob. Your strokes became quicker, mesmerized at the feeling of him growing harder in your hand.
Jacob slowly began to come undone above you, his whole body shaking as he held himself up above you still. "Please," was all he could coherently plead. And you loved it. Seeing this vulnerability in Jacob was something you were not expecting and it only made you want him more. Your strokes returned to the slower pace you had started with, knowing he was just minutes away from cumming.
Jacob opened his desire-filled eyes as your hands came to a stop. You pushed him back gently, your hands on his muscular chest, until he was sitting on his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows, pulling his shirt off of you, as Jacob watched you with wide eyes. Now fully exposed before him, excitement coursed through your veins. Jerking him off had made the heat pool between your legs almost impossible to ignore. You were desperate for any sort of release and you were going to get it.
You laid yourself back on the bed, Jacob still kneeled at the foot of it, his eyes trained on you, running up and down your naked body. Slowly, you ran a hand down your chest, pausing to squeeze your boobs before trailing your fingers down your stomach. Your legs parted, knowing very well what view Jacob would have from where he sat. And you began.
After years of knowing your body, touching yourself was simple and well known. Your fingers brushed your clit lightly, gasping at the shock that ran through you. The circles started slowly, pacing yourself as the tightness in your stomach began to build. You lost yourself in the pleasure, not holding back the moans that sprang from your lips. You knew very well Jacob too, was touching himself. You could hear it. The noises of his slick hand running up and down his length, mixed with his soft groans and breaths.
You opened your eyes to the vision of Jacob touching himself, his eyes dripping with lust as he watched you do the same to yourself, the veins on his arms bulging from the movement.
"What are you thinking about?" you asked slyly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
"You," he panted, his chest rising and falling as he responded.
"Mmmm," you breathed, "What about me?"
"About touching you. Tasting you. Being inside of you and making you feel so good," he said, his deep voice strained as he tried to contain himself.
"I want you to," was all you said.
Jacob was back on top of you in the blink of an eye. He was everywhere. Kissing, touching, and licking every inch of you. He felt like the sun, spreading a delicious warmth all over you. His mouth was on your stomach, parting your legs with his arms before trailing down to your inner thighs. You wanted him so badly and he knew.
His mouth found your clit, giving it a light lick as your eyes rolled back, gripping his hair tightly. You moaned as you felt Jacob's tongue drawing circles, your hips bucking involuntarily seeking more.
"Mmm," Jacob hummed, sending vibrations through your core as he did. You were so close.
"Wait," you breathed, your mind foggy from the pleasure. Jacob looked up at you, his expression slightly worried.
"Is everything okay?" he whispered, his mouth still wet from you.
"Kiss me," you commanded, pulling him to you eagerly. Your lips met in a frantic effort, tasting the sweet, slightly salty taste of yourself on his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, moaning softly at the feeling of his hardened dick against your bare stomach.
Jacob rolled over onto his back, his hands on your hips as you now straddled him. Your hips moved automatically against his, brushing your clit against his cock, your wetness dripping onto it.
"God," Jacob groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements to an even quicker pace. "So hot."
"I need you," you breathed, throwing your head back as you neared your orgasm again, "Inside of me."
Something snapped inside of Jacob as you moaned those words. His hands fumbled to find a condom on tiny nightstand beside his bed, wasting no time in pulling it down his cock. You lifted your hips as he positioned himself below you before pulling you down for another kiss.
"Are you sure about this?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.
"I am," you replied, kissing him gently.
"I love you, Y/N," he whispered against your lips. Your heart leaped.
"I love you too, Jake," you sighed back.
You lowered yourself onto him slowly, taking time to adjust to his size, listening to Jacob gasp as you took more of him in. He stretched you perfectly, the tip of his dick hitting your G-spot as you started to tentatively bounce up and down him. As you sped up, Jacob's hands found your boobs, taking them into his mouth as you moaned his name, his hands snaking their way down your back.
"Jake," you moaned, as his tongue swirled around your hardened nipple.
"Tell me," he groaned, "Tell me how good I make you feel."
"So good," you panted as Jacob's lips found your neck, biting your soft skin gently.
"That's it," he pleaded, "Ride me just like that. Please, Y/N."
Your hips were moving at an incredible speed, bringing you so close to the edge. You could feel Jacob's cock twitching inside of you, signaling his approaching orgasm.
"I'm gonna cum," you whined, no longer worried about what you said or how. All you could think about was Jacob.
"Mmmm, cum all over me," he breathed, his fingers gripping your ass tightly as he made you ride him even faster. It was all too much. Jacob inside of you, Jacob groaning your name, his breathless pleads, the heat of his body. Your orgasm shook through you, you threw your head back and cried out in pleasure. Your sight even blurred momentarily. Jacob's orgasm quickly followed your own, your name falling from his lips repeatedly as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.
It took you both a few minutes to catch your breaths, entangled in a sweaty mess as you did. Jacob stroked your hair softly and you traced imaginary swirls along his chest.
"So," you began, "you love me?"
Jacob laughed, his whole body shaking and ultimately shaking you as well. "Of course I do, Y/N."
You shrugged. "You'd never mentioned it."
"Well, my past love confession didn't go too well," he sighed, "Which I know is unfair to you but I wanted to use those words carefully this time, especially with someone as special as you."
"I understand," you smiled, propping your head on your hands to meet Jacob's gaze, "It's just nice to hear is all."
"It's nice to say," he said, his smile reaching all the way up to his eyes.
"Hmmm," you said thoughtfully, "Are you going to tell your dad?"
"Got nothing to hide," he winked at you, "I'll tell all of Forks if I have to."
"Jake!" you squealed, though you knew he truly would. Jacob was the showing off type.
"Kidding," he said, poking you in the side, "Unless..."
"Knowing you, you'll probably call the local radio or put up posters," you rolled your eyes at the idea of either of those happening, "Why don't we go cliff diving again tomorrow?"
Jacob's smile tugged even harder at the corner of his lips. "I've got an even better idea. Something you taught me today."
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A/N: honestly I didn't know how to end this oneshot I'm so sorry it's a little meh :/ but I really loved writing Jacob x Reader sm I might turn it into a oneshot series!!!
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yvnaura · 8 months ago
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— stringless .lhs
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enemies(?) w benefits!heeseung x f!reader
a/n: well here we go first lil drabble hehe
wc: 767
"you're fucking enjoying this, aren't you?" heeseung growled, absolutely ruining you every time his cock slipped back inside your dripping cunt. your hands were pinned against the mattress above your head by one of his, leaving your body fully exposed to him. your head fell back, letting out a moan you'd been trying so hard to hold back. "you say you hate me yet you love my cock so much that you keep coming back for more,"
you despised him but you couldn't deny just how good he made you feel. it embarrassed you just how easily he could get you riled up despite how angry he made you. you hated the way you found yourself wanting him, craving his touch. what made things worse was that he knew the effect he had on you, and that he wasn't afraid to use it against you.
he was relentless, degrading words slipping out every chance he got. your walls clenched around him at his words, pushing a groan past his lips at the tight sensation. "i wonder what your friends would think if they knew just how much of a slut you are for me, just how many times you've let me fuck this pretty pussy, yeah?"
“fuck you,” you glared at him, voice weak and shaky.
“already are, sweetheart,” he chuckled, clearly amused by your futile attempt to knock him down a peg. heeseung released your wrists, head dipping down to your chest. he took a nipple between his lips, sucking and licking at the skin. your back arched against him, pushing your chest up against his mouth. your fingers carded through his hair, gripping and tugging at the dark strands.
“and you fucking love it,” you scoffed, taking a jab at the way he’s just as shameless as you are. “mmh, calling me at two in the morning, b-begging to come over– who’s really the whore here?”
“fuck yeah i do,” he’s admitting with zero hesitation, a smirk spreading across his face. glancing down, his gaze fixated on watching the way his cock disappeared within you. he pulled his lip between his teeth, small grunts slipping out with each thrust. the bed creaked beneath you, neither noticing the way the headboard slammed against the wall. “i mean– can you blame me? pussy’s so good, fuck,”
your newly freed hands found purchase on his shoulder and forearm, nails clawing at his skin harshly. subconsciously, you moved your hips in a way that changed the angle in which he pounded into you, allowing him to nail that spongy spot inside you that left you weak. you’re gasping out in pleasure, his name leaving your lips in a cry. your body was left reeling, the steadily growing pressure in your abdomen bordering its limit.
he was panting above you, eyes squeezed shut as he was trying his damnedest to not only keep his composure but stave off his rapidly approaching orgasm. sure, he may be an asshole, but your pleasure will always come above his own.
“f-fuck, hee! m’gonna—!” you were writhing under him, your moans turning into desperate whines as your body practically begged to be thrown over the edge.
“yeah? cum for me then,” he whispered with a cocky smile despite the fact that he was just as close as you were in that moment. his hand slipped between you, thumb starting to rub harsh circles into your clit. “cum on the cock you claim to hate so much,”
that was all it took. you were crying out his name, your entire body shuddering as your orgasm washed over you. your hands gripped at him like your life depended on it, the intensity leaving you breathless.
heeseung hissed out as your walls tightened down around him, the sensation all he needed to reach his own high. with one final thrust, he tensed up with a broken, choked moan as he came, filling you to the brim with his cum.
he remained still for a moment, catching his breath before slowly pulling himself from you. he stares, watching the way the mix of yours and his releases dripped out of your abused hole and onto the sheets beneath you. your chest was still heaving, trying to catch your breath after it all.
you were immediately tired, falling asleep within minutes while heeseung proceeded to get dressed and gather his things. almost as quickly as you fell asleep, he was headed toward the door.
that’s all it was between you. blowing off steam when you needed it, and neither of you thought it any different.
then why did he hesitate and look back before walking out?
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snail-day · 3 months ago
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Happy Friday! Today feels very sleepy so here's:
Yan!JJK Men x Sleepy Nonchalant!Reader
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami
Tw: yandere behaviors, kidnapping, slight noncon/dubcon, somno, mentions of murder. MDNI.
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At first, Gojo genuinely didn’t get it. He’s talking, and people love when he talks, he’s charismatic, funny, the strongest, so why are your eyes fluttering shut mid-sentence? Watching you with growing irritation, white brows furrowing, as your head tilts back into the plush pillow, your breathing going soft, right in the middle of his story about a fight the first years had.
A huff of a breath, that teasing lilt shifting to annoyance, “Are you seriously sleeping right now?”
But the longer he watches you, the harder it is to stay annoyed. You're not tense. You're not trying to escape. You're just... soft. Relaxed. Wrapped in his blankets, lying in the bed he picked out for you. The first time he returns from a mission to find you exactly where he left you, tangled up in his hoodie and the mountain of plush pillows he bought for you, it hits him, you must trust him. Or maybe you're just too sleepy to care, but that makes his chest ache in a whole new way, rather would assume you're actually just in love with him too.
You always greet him the same way. Barely awake. Raspy little voice coming out from under the blankets. “Welcome home…”
He climbs in next to you without any sort of hesitation. Wraps his lanky arms around you, face pressed into your neck. Clinging onto your warmth, pressing a few kisses here and there. He doesn’t care if you can’t stay awake through his stories anymore. He just wants to feel you melt into him. You try, sometimes, asking sleepy questions about his day, but your eyes always start drooping again.
He thinks it’s adorable. His sweet little darling can’t even stay up, but still tries to care.
Though, in bed, it’s a different story.
“Come on,” he groans, pouting against your throat, nipping the soft skin, leaving bites and wine red hues. “I'm making you feel good, aren't I? The least you can do is stay awake and moan for me, c’mon, baby, pleeease.”
All whiny and desperate, his hips snap harder, just to pull more sounds from your sleepy little self. Watching how your brows furrow, the way your mouth parts with soft, high whimpers before you start drifting again, lashes fluttering, body going loose as he presses your knees to your chest. Honestly it's a game for him at this point, how deep can he push you until you actually wake up.
But even when you go all quiet again, eyes slipping shut, he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re warm and pretty and pliant underneath him. Not when he’s this close, so deep inside you, clinging to every twitch of your body.
A free hand of his trembles just slightly as the warm palm settles on your waist. Leaning down with the other, giving your cheek a few lazy, gentle pats, ensuring you're still coherent enough.
Your lips part to protest, barely more than a sleepy murmur and he’s already kissing you. Shoving his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your tired little whine as he thrusts deep, grinding into you as his third load spills inside. A soft groan against your lips, voice cracked and breathless. “Shhh… it’s fine, sleepyhead. You can sleep through the next few rounds.”
Geto was just so used to obedience, submission, fear. So when he caught you nodding off mid-sermon, he nearly lost his composure.
He almost thought he needed to kill you. To make an example of your disobedience and lack of etiquette in a temple. Your head tilted forward, body slouched, breathing slow while he preached about cleansing the world of filthy non-sorcerers. You looked like a child dozing in a classroom. Disrespectful. Pitiful.
And yet… intriguing enough. He couldn’t remember you. Couldn’t place your face. Maybe you were just a leftover, someone he spared when he exorcised the curse that used to cling to you. When he asked how you got here, how you found the temple, all you did was mumble, “It felt cozy…”
Cozy huh.
Something about your sleepy little pout, the way your lashes fluttered while you fought to stay awake. Making him feel a certain way as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and flashed him that sweet smile and a mumbled apology. He should’ve cast you out. Sacrificed you. But instead, he let you stay.
You became a quiet little fixture in his world. Always near him, even if you were barely conscious. He started carrying you during temple work, your body slumped against the silk of his robes or curled up in his lap as he held meetings and sermons. His followers knew better than to speak on it. You were an oddity, a stray he took in. And for all his cruelty, Geto had a possessive streak a mile wide.
When you slipped to your knees in front of him, dozing even as you lazily licked at the salty cum on the tip of his pretty cock, his breath caught. You were messy and tired, little bubbles of spit forming along his shaft, as you whined that your jaw ached. Suguru wasn't sure if he should praise you for being so cute, blowing bubbles on his cock with your sleepy drool or punish you for being a tease.
Instead he cradled your head, not out of kindness, but control, lacing his fingers in your hair. “You can take it,” he cooed, slowly pushing himself deeper down your throat. Ignoring any gags and whines. “Be a good girl. Just a little longer.”
The sight of you, eyes glassy, tear tracks glistening, mouth stretched wide with drool pooling at the corners. God, it made him feel divine. He needed to ruin you. Needed to remind you who your savior was.
So he started bringing you to his bloodiest sermons. Sat you right on his lap while he exorcised curses, while he slaughtered your kind. Kept you tucked against his chest, your soft little body pressed close while the screams echoed through the temple. He'd expect you to cry, not to cling onto him while you slept, nuzzling into his robes as he was your shelter. Ignoring the screams, the deaths of your kind. Perhaps a sleepy little pet won't be so bad.
Nanami didn’t want to do this. Kidnapping wasn’t exactly in his moral playbook. But you weren’t answering your phone, weren’t responding to texts, and every time he showed up at your apartment, you brushed him off with a sleepy smile and went right back to bed.
You were overworked. Exhausted. Probably depressed. And he couldn’t just leave you like that.
So, he took you.
Gently, packed up your things, moved you into his home. Carried you to bed and tucked you in. When you stirred, confused, he sat beside you and said, “You need rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”
You were drowsy, but not frightened. That… worried him more. We're you just so done with life that it was easier to be kidnapped? Poor thing.
He started waking you just to feed you, his voice low and careful. “Open your mouth,” he’d say, spoon in hand. “You need to eat something.”
He hovered. Quietly fussed. Took your temperature, read articles about chronic fatigue, bought vitamins and supplements and all your favorite snacks. At first, he asked constantly if you were depressed. If something was wrong.
You always said no. Just sleepy. Just tired.
Eventually, it was just easier to believe you.
So, his whole routine revolves around you. He works his shifts, knowing you’ll be there when he returns. Curled up under his weighted blanket, breathing steady (he has to check sometimes), hair tousled and cheek pressed into his pillow. He gets undressed, slides in behind you, and you instinctively scoot back into his chest.
“Nnnh… Kento,” you murmur.
He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I’m here. Go back to sleep.”
He should feel guilty. He knows this isn’t normal. But you let him do this. You make soft noises when he holds you. Ignoring how his hands slip your sweet panties to the side. You cling to his bicep in your sleep, shifting against him as his fingers rub little circles on your sensitive nub. And when he wakes you with slow, careful fingers between your legs, dipping into your heat, your only response is a sleepy sigh and a tilt of your hips, letting him know he's doing a good job.
You never fight him. Never run. So he should just indulge himself, right?
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captain-huggy-bear · 4 months ago
Note
Reader yelling at Quinn infront of the boys because he didn't give her a goodbye kiss and them making fun of him (all in good fun)
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Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist
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"Bye, baby, I'll see you after the game," Quinn smiles at you as he says goodbye and you're already leaning your head back, lips pursed waiting for your usual goodbye kiss when he just...walks away...you blink for a minute, taken aback before your brows furrow and you cross your arms, eyes tracking him as he turns his back to you. Following him as he moves towards Garland and some of the other guys.
You let out a purposefully loud cough low in your throat in an attempt to get Quinn's attention, but he's already in an animated conversation with Conor, laughing at something Conor has said. He doesn't turn your way, doesn't even appear to have heard you. It only makes your frown grow, a pout starting to develop because there was no way you were leaving without your goodbye kiss. It simply wasn't happening.
You try one more time to get his attention politely because you are nothing if not polite in your efforts to get the goodbye kiss that you are entitled to. You were raised correctly after all. Moving a few steps closer before you cough again, louder this time, some of the other Canucks looking in your direction but not the one you want. Kiefer and Tyler both starting to grin at the pout on your lips, the fold of your arms, your clear displeasure with your boyfriend, both knowing they were about to witness a highlight of their day.
You take a deep breath in, collecting enough air so that you're next words come out as a shout, loud enough that there is no possibly way Quinn won't hear you.
"Quinitin Jerome Hughes!"
He stops, freezes, turning slowly towards you with wide eyes. He looks as if he's done something terrible, unsure why you're yelling his full government name at him when he just say goodbye to you. The rest of his team watch on with various emotions ranging from their own wide eyed fear of you to amusement, holding back a laugh. Kiefer in particular is biting his lips hard, resisting the urge with everything in him.
"Baby?" If he sounds mildly terrified that's because he is, unsure of what he's done to deserve his full name being called.
"Don't baby me! Aren't you forgetting something?" You give Quinn an expectant look because of course he'll know what he forgot, right? There's no way he'd possibly forget now.
He blinks at you slowly, once, twice before answering unsure and confused, "I love you?"
"My goodbye kiss, Quintin!" You scoff at him, arms dropping to your sides heavily at his apparent disregard for your most important of goodbye rituals.
"Shit, sorry, baby..." He's scrambling over to you despite the laughs behind him as the team watch their captain practically trip over his own feet to get to you.
Still, your upset is all but forgotten when his hands cup your cheeks, melting into his touch as he leans forward to kiss you. It's not as brief as your usual goodbye kiss, like he knows he has to make it up to you, like he knows a quick peck won't be sufficient.
You ignore the wolf whistles, the shouts, the laughs as he kisses you, smiling into the kiss as your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. Because this is a goodbye kiss. Lingering, longing, firmly and insistent, the sort of kiss that leaves you a little breathless when Quinn finally pulls back, forehead pressed to your own.
"Forgive me, baby?"
"You're forgiven."
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thewitchblue · 4 months ago
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"Did you join the fucking military?"
Jason asked Tim, who blinked blankly at Jason until he noticed what he was holding. Jason was holding your military tags, which Tim's selfishly kept to himself when you "lost" them. Technically, he stole the tags from you, but you can always get a new set. You'll be matching! He did feel a little bad that you got in trouble with leadership when you asked for new ones, but he's sure you'd be fine without the old pair.
"No."
Tim didn't elaborate further. The tags have practically lived on him since he stole them. He only ever takes them off for showers, which is how Jason found them. Jason scoffed,
"Good. You'd be a shit soldier. Why do you have military dog tags?"
Tim tried to take them back, but Jason held them above his head. Your dog tags are air jailed until he gets answers. Jason needed to know.
"Answer or I'll find a place to smelt them down."
Tim knew he was serious by the gleam in Jason's eyes, so he said,
"My girlfriend is in a special forces unit for the marines. She refuses to tell me which unit she's in, but I've narrowed it down."
Jason was too stunned to notice that he dropped your dog tags. Tim snatched them off the floor and put them safely around his neck again and tucked under his shirt where they belonged. He likes to say that you're closer to his heart with your tags under his shirt with the bonus of protecting him from any potential bullets. Even when you are gone, you promise that you will always come back. He's used to your deployment and the limbo you have him in.
"When do I get to meet her?"
Dick said from the doorway. He was passing by and overheard. His little Timmy has a girlfriend? When did that happen?
Tim touches the tags while thinking of what to reveal and what to keep private. He's never been good at respecting privacy, but he has been learning for you. He knows to keep anything you say to him a secret, but what about other things relating to you?
"Whenever she wants. I'm not her keeper."
Tim answered vaguely. He's flying to see you soon, and he doesn't want to be followed. You've been together for three years, but you met kind of awkwardly. You tackled him to the ground and wrestled with him after mistaking him for one of your friends.
Your willpower eventually overcame his reflexes, and he stopped struggling. You had laughed when you pinned him down and ruffled his hair in victory. It was embarrassing to him how quickly he submitted to you. He watched your eyes widen when you noticed he's not your friend. You took in the scene too slowly. You, straddling who you had assumed was your friend with your hands pinning his wrists to both sides of his head, and Tim blushing underneath you. Tim didn't know how to react either, so you both stared at each other before you started awkwardly apologising.
Tim was a mess, but he was an adorable mess. His hair was ruffled, and his clothes were wrinkled, but there were no bruises nor any scrapes. You were always careful to leave no injuries. He was breathless, just staring at you with wide eyes and a shyness that almost made you smile. He was so cute that you wanted to squish him.
You quickly got off of him once you realised how long you've been staring at him. You pulled him up from the ground when he didn't make a move to stand by himself and actually almost fell right back to the ground because his legs refused to work for him. He was understandly stunned.
This is awkward. How do you explain the tradition of you fighting your friend on sight? Your friend does the exact same thing with you. It was excellent training for your deployment to fight each other on sight without any prep. Enemy soldiers aren't going to reveal themselves before attacking, so surprise attacks help keep your reflexes sharp.
"Sorry. I thought you were someone else."
He couldn't get the image of you pinning him down out of his head. Nobody has ever pinned him down so intimately. You were gentle. Your hold would have been easy to break out of if he didn't stop struggling. It was like you only played until one of you got pinned, and then the fight was over.
Tim was still trying to remember how to function. What does he do? What does he say? He's all shaken up. He had to look away from you. He managed to say,
"It's fine."
He tried to sound like it was no big deal, but it sounded strained. He was pretending like the wrestling really took it out of him by fake panting, but you both knew better. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, but pat his back and attempted to leave.
Attempted, being the key word. Tim caught your wrist loosely and nervously said,
"I, uh... would you... Can we... Let's... I'm sorry."
He didn't have the words with you looking at him like that. He was nervous. You smiled softly at him, and he forgot how to speak entirely. He could only stare until you took the initiative and asked him to go on a date before you leave for boot camp. He nodded, and that was that. You gave him your number and continued your run like nothing happened.
The date went amazing. It was a bit unconventional as you took him to a paint gun fight after showing him the gun and explaining the rules. You grinned every time he landed a hit and even wiped away the paint that splattered onto him with a fond expression. You opened up about the fear you have about joining the military, but your desire to help. You want to make a difference, however small or large that may be.
You kissed the bruising wounds softly and banaged the bleeding ones before he could even reach for the first aid kit you brought. You helped him up with a wild grin, and he kissed you until the adrenaline ran out. The guns were empty, and you both were messes, but your hearts were full, and Tim can safely say he hates paintballing. You took him to see a movie like a normal person next date.
Jason and Dick watched their brother soften further and further as he went down memory lane. Dick was ecstatic and already plotting to meet you, but Jason was confused why anybody would date Tim. Yeah, he's had his fair share of partners, but he's surprised every time he gets a date, let alone a girlfriend.
You were his mystery girl, and their family loves a good mystery.
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delilahsturniolo · 1 month ago
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⋆˚࿔ ۶ৎ brat!tamer matt making you get yourself off on his knee as a punishment
matt steps into the room, locking the door behind him with a sharp click. "you've been nothing but a brat all day, y'know that?" his voice is like velvet, smooth yet slightly rough, and you swallow thickly, feeling the familiar pull of arousal tug at your belly.
his words are accusatory, and you know you can't deny them. you've been aching for a fight all day, to test your limits with him. "well, what're you gonna do about it?" you challenge, trying to sound bold despite the quiver in your voice.
without missing a beat, matt saunters over to you, his eyes glinting with both amusement and irritation. "well, since you asked so nicely," he purrs, grasping your arm and pulling you to him, "let me show you what happens when you give attitude, love."
he doesn't give you the chance to respond before he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to straddle his lap, sliding your panties down immediately but keeping your skirt on. he doesn't even bother to remove his jeans, letting the denim of his pants chafe deliciously against your sensitive skin. "c'mon," he urges, a smirk curling his lips as he watches you. "you're so desperate for it, aren't you? do it yourself."
you're too aroused to deny him, your pussy throbbing against his thigh as you start to rub yourself against him, seeking some kind of relief. but he's a bastard, he doesn't help you at all. in fact, all he does is watch you with a smirk on his face, his hands grasping your hips to keep you moving at a pace that's barely enough to stoke the flames within you.
you can't help but whine under your breath, grinding yourself against him more desperately. "matt..." you plead, shamelessly begging for him to touch you, to make you cum. "fuck, please..." you moan, feeling your bare pussy against his denim jeans. it was torture. but he just smirks at you. "use your words baby," he commands, giving your hip a hard squeeze.
"i want your cock," you admit begrudgingly, grinding down harder on his knee, feeling his bulge through his jeans. "please, matt, i need it. i'm so fucking wet..."
he hums in consideration, watching you with half-lidded eyes. "mmm," he finally hesitates, making you groan in relief. “gotta take me like a good girl though, or i’ll have to punish you more, don’t you think?” he teases.
and then he's flipping you onto your back, tugging your leggings off and plunging into you with absolutely no warning. you cry out at the sensation, your inner walls clenching around his length as he starts to move inside you. he's rough, brutal even, his hands pinning your wrists above your head as he fucks into you with force.
"that's it," he growls above you, his thrusts relentless. "take it all. feel my dick deep inside of you, huh baby?”
you moan beneath him, your body undulating with each thrust, completely at his mercy. and god, it's so fucking good, the way he's using you like this, treating you like his personal fucktoy.
your orgasm builds inside you rapidly, your vision going blurry as you near the edge. "matt, i'm—" but before you can finish the sentence, he reaches down between your bodies and presses hard on your clit, keeping you on the precipice but refusing to let you tip over.
"no, nope," he says curtly, pulling out of you with a wet pop and flipping you onto your stomach. "not yet. you aren’t cumming yet.”
he pushes back into you roughly, the change in angle making you cry out as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. he keeps you on edge for what feels like hours, refusing to let you cum despite how badly you need it, you whine into his ear, he just laughs. “regret being such a brat now?”
finally, after what feels like an eternity, he slams into you particularly hard and grinds against your clit, sending you spiraling over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm. you scream into the mattress as your pussy clenches around him, cumming so hard that it leaves you breathless and shaking.
he's not far behind you, his hips snapping into yours a few more times before he's cumming too, filling you up with his hot cum as he groans into your neck. you're left panting beneath him, still pinned by his weight as he rides out his climax.
“good girl, such a good girl..” he murmurs, his cum completely filling you up. “round two?”
© delilahsturniolo
💌: boi i wanna redo this whole au it’s literally not what i wanted it to be like at all 😭
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thbbie · 29 days ago
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༄ shanks x f! reader (based on this ask)
"yea? then what is a man "
"well. my man should be, tall and broad oh and devilishly handsome "
sitting just a short distance away is the mysterious red haired man you've been eyeing all night, raising your voice louder than necessary to get your across to your friend sitting right next to you.
a silly overzealous plan, but your going for it anyway. your fingers and legs and heart crossed because damn. look at him. your back is turned away now, because yes absolutely you want him to hear, but to make it so pathetically desperate? no way
she looks at you with a knowing look in her eye, fond but honest, silent in her message of this could never work by the way.
she's halfway done telepathically sharing with you her thoughts, the man gets up from where he was sitting and makes his way to you and your friend by the bar, taking a seat just a few away from you.
stiffening in your seat at the wide eyed look she gives you signaling that just a little distance away from you is where he is now.
when the nerves hit you is when your friend gains confidence in your little endeavour, inching out of her seat, her eyes low lidded — knowing, as she holds your gaze wiggling her brows just a little to get her point across . slipping out of her stool and leaving you there . alone. with the red haired man, just as you'd wished.
he watches you and thinks, all bark then?
the stranger watches you drone on unprompted, the words tumbling out your pretty glossy lips clumsily. you'd like to shut your mouth, to bury yourself away and hope the ground swallows you whole.
but oh mr. handsome red haired stranger can come up with something better for you.
hes got your back pressed into a brick wall rough on your back in an alley not too far from the bar. is it the most romantic place for your first time ever having sex? no, but it'll do.
you're too far gone to complain anyway. far too blissful from his kisses to worry about the risk of a potential audience.
he breaks the kiss, his breathing. little shallow and you whine at the distance. "shh, be patient for me yea?" he shifts your weight in his arm, positioning your back against his chest and his back against the wall.
"there we go. don't want the pretty lady getting hurt now do we?"
its embarrassing the way he moves you around effortlessly with his arm, positioning you the way he wants.
" 'm gonna need your help now sweetheart" his voice though, is so smug, not even breathless. "take it out for me"
you press yourself further into the warmth of his chest, shirt open so wide he might as well not be wearing on at all; still the seams of it trace your skin in your attempt to melt away, to hide. you've only just met the man.
tentatively, you drag your hands over the out line of him above the rough fabric of his pants, slipping your hand in to do as he'd asked. the there skin is like velvet, he's hot and delicate and hard somehow all at once.
you aren't sure what to do now, the length of his hardened cock in on of your hands and you're still spread pathetically in his hold, "mhmn good, touch yourself with your other hand f' me"
you do. frail fingers trace up your outer lips, moving slowly towards your swollen little nub of nerves. you don't mean for it to be teasing, you're just stalling. it seems to have an effect on him though.
rubbing yourself to neediness you can't handle, your fingers turn faster, sloppier. your wetness collects faster than you've experienced before and in your little haze of pleasure you bring the cock in you other hand to your winking entrance. rubbing the head of it over your weeping core and when that becomes too little, without the order coming from him, you slip it in. just a little bit.
the broad man behind you hisses, longing for the feeling of you wrapped his whole. his hips buck up involuntarily, filling you with inches of him in a single moment. resting his forehead against your sweaty temple he whispers to you kind words. words of encouragement, words so sweet and idiotic like yourself would take them to heart.
he goals you steady, thrusting up into you steadily, intensely. there's an effort on your part to meet him halfway but you give in just as you start. slumping against his hot chest, trusting a man you've never known to hold you up. to take care of you in a way no one has done before.
it's a strange sort of pleasure you've never felt before. stinging at first but you hardly felt it in your need. you feel full now, you could feel the drag of his cock against his walls. you could feel how he twitches when you clench to hard. it's dizzying, you tighten around him, one of your hands clawing at his forearms for support and the other going around to hold his neck.
"shit, i- sir i cant take anymore. its too much. its-"
heat takes over your vision and be recognizes the cause of your symptoms before you do, keeping his pace and with his voice hoarse and guiding he orders that you touch your clot. rub it the way you know you like it best.
"come on darling, yea yea . mhhhn fuck. juuust like that, make yerself feel good."
your body tenses, vision going white and moans you can't control spill from the seams of your lips, coming undone, really cumming for the first time. in your slew of mindless babbling you reveal that this is your first time. the words are captured, hardly audible but he catches them as you convulse in his hold, mind melting away but he needs you here still.
the man drags himself out of you, not wanting to overdo it. "atta girl. feel nice? yea? doin so good for a first timer. so so good." his voice is hoarse but still composed, in far better shape than you at the very least. still hard, he lets you down slowly, clumsily helping fix your attire. he flashes you a smile and presses a sweet shallow kiss to your nose as his hand smooths over you hair.
he holds you to his chest, feeling it tighten when you ask for his name. what a sweet thing.
"names shanks, lovie. what's yours?"
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heauxvibez · 1 year ago
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He Loves To Talk You Through It
warning: Smut (18+), shoutout to @shes2real for inspiring me because they ATE DOWN with what they wrote today. Please go check their page out!
-
One thing we all love and know Roman for is his way with words. He has a passion for talking, reveling in the sound of his own voice. Yet, as much as he loved to speak, it couldn't compare to the pleasure you felt listening to him.
"Tell daddy how much you love when I fuck you like this..when I look you in the eyes while I hit that spot."
His words always caressed your ears softly, even when they were rough and demanding. Whether he was pinning you down or had his calloused hands wrapped around your throat, every word he spoke felt like a sensual embrace, leaving you breathless with each and every syllable.
"Runnin' ain't gon do nothin’ but make me wanna go deeper.."
That man always makes you feel so many things at once. He has this incredible ability to be both rough and gentle, his words so sinister yet whispered through soft, angelic lips that set your skin ablaze. Your tender, supple skin is handled by his calloused hands, which somehow manage to hold you delicately, with the same gentleness he used to handle your heart.
"Eyes on me.." he commanded with your ass firmly pressed against his pelvis, his dick deep in you almost melting and molding into your wetness as he searched for that spot.
"And don't look away, at all."
You locked eyes with him, staring into his dark eyes through the bedroom closet mirror. That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest consumed your whole body when he did this. He knew that making you look at him while he snatched every fiber of your being from you would not only make you extremely nervous but also have you begging for mercy.
"A pretty girl like you can't be fucked without me seeing every single moan leave those pretty lips.."
Your whimpers are like music to his ears but listening to them while you were faced down, ass up was never good enough for him. He thrived off having you pinned against his body, physically feeling you fall apart against his skin while you threw your head in the air and allowed your sobs to paint the room.
"Yeah, just like that. Fuck, baby girl. I got you.."
His muscles twitched and tensed against your backside as he held you close by your throat with the hand accompanied by his sleeve. Watching that arm flex as he controlled you practically had your essence dripping down his length. His beautiful smile lines deepened as his lips curled into that sexy smirk that had you swooning each and every time. He watched your eyes divert for a quick second to look at the tattoo. Jesus, he literally had you in a chokehold.
"Look at you, so fucking weak for me right now...melting in my fucking arms,"
Your eyes never left his, just as he wanted, locked in a soul snatching gaze. He felt your body crumbling with every word he spoke, but he held you up. Each heartbeat, each breath, each moan, whimper, bound you tighter to him,
'That's it mama, keep lookin' at daddy.."
He slowly continues his thrusts, being sure to aim for your sweet spot with each movement of his hips. His right hand always finds it's way to your clit rubbing in slow, agonizing circles sliding in between your slit to dip into your wetness and back to your throbbing pearl.
"Damn. You're so in love with me aren't you baby?" he asks before allowing his tongue to trace his lips.
The air felt thin, almost suffocating. You wondered how you could still look this man in the eyes while releasing soft, desperate gasps. Yet, each sound that escaped you, made him throb in response to each breath you made. Your hands clung to his wrists, not to push him away but to anchor yourself as the pleasure pulsed through you.
"You couldn't hide it if you wanted to, you're so damn wet for me..just for me" Your juices still coated his lips from the taste of you he had earlier. He moaned as his mind gave him a quick flashback of his feasting session earlier.
That moan rumbled through your ear almost pushing you to the edge. His fingers still toyed with your clit, pulling away and turning into soft, light taps when he'd hear your breath quicken.
"Aren't you?" he questioned again, this time a bit firmer. A bit rougher.
"Yes, daddy.." you choked out before your teeth sunk into your lower lip. His touch was still steady against your throat. It felt as if every sound trying to escape you was trapped by his grasp.
"Good." his low and husky voice brushed against your ear.
"Because, I'm just as in love with you.." he breathed out, another moan escaping his lips.
You weren't sure how much more of this sweet torment you could take, but you had no choice. The night would be endlessly filled with his touch and the intoxicating words that flowed from his lips.
"Aht, look at me while you cum, sweetheart. You better not look away."
"I just need you to nut one more time baby."
"That's it my love, give me that nut. Fuck, mmm, I love this shit."
---------------------------
Very very random, but hope you enjoyed it!
Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi
@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80
@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @sheyaish @tshepisho @mzv11 @venusesworld
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badathumanemotions · 2 months ago
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emily with a bush 🤤🤤🤤
Desk Job (Part One)
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Emily Prentiss x Fem Reader MDNI Master List CW: Smut, Sex at Work, Strap On, Dom Emily, Sub Reader, Oral Sex (E rec), Slight Exhibitionism, Desk Sex, Unit Chief Emily. WC: 4,866 Part Two (Not Proof Read)
Your phone buzzes on your desk, the sound sharp in the quiet hum of the bullpen. One look at the screen is all it takes.
Emily: My office. Now.
No explanation. You glance across the room. Her door is shut. Blinds closed. The kind of closed that means don't knock.
You don’t hesitate.
Inside, the air feels heavier. Her blazer is off, draped over the back of her chair. Her shirt is rolled at the sleeves, collar loose like she’s been pulling at it. She doesn’t look up right away. Just finishes typing something, hits enter, then leans back in her chair like she’s finally letting herself breathe.
Emily stands, crooking her finger at you. The gesture is subtle but commanding, sending a thrill of anticipation up your spine. You step closer, unsure of what's coming but knowing you're going to give it to her. You stop right in front of her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her body. Her hand lands on your hip, not gentle, but firm. You gasp slightly at the sudden touch.
Then she's on you, one hand grasping the back of your neck, and she takes you in a fierce consuming kiss. Her grip is like a vise, holding you in place as her tongue slides against yours. It's demanding, desperate almost, as if she's been waiting for this moment for hours, days, months. You don’t fight it. You don’t want to. Instead, you lean into it, your own hands coming up to grip her to keep yourself steady as she claims you with a hunger. Her other hand is still on your hip, moving to the front to unbuckle your belt.
“So tired of the fucking politics involved with this job, but you're gonna be a good girl for me, aren't you?" she whispers, the words harsh and hot against your skin.
You nod, breathless, unable to form coherent thoughts as she unbuttons your shirt. The anticipation is a living thing, coiled tight in your stomach. You want to give her that release, to be the one she turns to when the world outside is too much.
With a sudden, surprising force, she rips herself away from you, leaving you gasping. Your eyes fly open, searching hers, but all you find is a fierce determination. " Over the desk, now," she growls.
You don’t argue. You can feel the electricity in the air, the unspoken promise of what’s about to happen. You lean over the desk, feeling the cold wood press into your stomach as she steps back, her gaze raking over you with a hunger that makes your knees weak. You're exposed and vulnerable, and she's the predator eyeing her prey.
In one swift motion, she grabs the waistband of your trousers and underwear and drags them down, the fabric catching briefly before falling to pool around your ankles. The suddenness of it sends a thrill through you, the sensation of being bared for her like this, ready and waiting.
You gasp when the cool air reaches your sensitive skin. Your heart races in your chest, each beat echoing in the room as you feel her palm smooth over the curve of your bare bottom. She takes a step back, admiring the view, and you bite your lip to hold back a moan. This is it, you think. This is what she needs.
Emily kneels down behind you, her breath hot against your skin as she spreads your pussy lips with a gentle yet firm touch. You feel your face heat up, your body responding to the sudden intimacy of her fingers. You're wet already, and she groans in appreciation, her voice filled with desire. She runs her thumb in slow, deliberate circles around your clit, watching as your hips push back into her, silently begging for more.
Her hand comes down with surprising force, slapping your ass cheek. The sound echoes in the room, making you jump, but it's not painful. It's a reminder of who's in control here, a jolt of sensation that sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. "Stay still," she commands, her voice low and dangerous. You whimper but nod, burying your face in your arms to muffle the noise.
Emily leans in, her breath hot against the folds of your sex. You can feel her gaze on you, assessing, before she finally gives in to the hunger that's been building between you. She opens her mouth and laps up the wetness that's been steadily leaking from your pussy since she first touched you. The sensation is almost too much, the sudden wetness of her tongue against your sensitive skin making your knees quiver. You bite down on your lip to keep from crying out.
Her mouth moves in a steady rhythm, her tongue pressing against your clit, swirling and flicking, teasing you closer and closer to the edge. You can't help but rock back into her, needing more, needing the friction she's so expertly controlling. You feel her smile against your skin, the pressure increasing until you're panting, until your hands are gripping the desk so tightly you're sure you'll leave marks.
But just as you're about to come, she stands back. You can hear the rustle of fabric and the soft click of a drawer. You try to turn to look, but her hand is firm on the back of your head, pushing you back down. "Eyes front," she says harshly.
Emily's hand leaves your hip, and you feel a moment of coldness before something hard presses against your entrance. You gasp, your body tensing in surprise, but she gives no warning as she impales you on her strap-on. It's a swift, sure motion that fills you completely, stretching you open in a way that's both painful and exhilarating. You let out a strangled cry, your nails digging into the wood of the desk.
Her hand slams over your mouth, cutting off your noise. "Keep quiet," she whispers into your ear, "or I'll stop." The words are a dark promise, and you realize she's not joking. You nod frantically, your eyes squeezed shut as she starts to move.
Emily's pace is hard and fast, like she's trying to break you. Each thrust sends waves of pain and pleasure crashing through you, leaving you trembling in her wake. You've never felt so used, so claimed. It's a feeling that should scare you, but instead, it sends your arousal spiralling out of control. You're not just her girlfriend right now; you're her relief, her escape, her toy. And as she fucks you, you understand that she needs this as much as you need her.
You can hear the sound of her hips slapping against your ass, a punctuation to each gasp and muffled moan that she pulls from you. Her hand is still over your mouth, but she's not gentle anymore. She's rough, her grip tight, her nails digging in. You can feel the wood of the desk biting into your skin, leaving a red imprint on your palms as you try to hold on.
Her movements are erratic, driven by the tension coiled in her body. Each thrust seems to go deeper, harder, and you know she's thinking about the meeting she had that morning. The way her eyes had been dark and distant, the tension in her jaw as she clenched it tight. It's all coming out now, in the force of her hips, in the way she's claiming you like a conqueror takes a battlefield.
"You like that, don't you?" she sneers, her voice a gruff whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. "You like it when I treat you like the little slut you are." The words are degrading, but they only serve to turn you on more. You nod, your voice muffled by her hand.
Her grip relaxes, allowing you to gasp for air, but she doesn't remove her hand entirely. Instead, she uses her thumb to trace your bottom lip, pressing it against your teeth before sliding it into your mouth. "Suck," she orders, and you obey, sucking greedily.
Emily's other hand snakes around your waist, reaching for your clit, which is swollen and begging for attention. She circles it with her thumb, applying just enough pressure to keep the tension tight. The combination of the silicone filling you and her hand teasing your clit sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.
You struggle to stay silent, the moans building in your throat. Your hips move with her rhythm, pushing back to meet every thrust. The desk beneath you creaks in protest, the sound mingling with the harsh breaths that fill the room.
Emily's hand leaves your mouth, her palm now splayed over your back, keeping you in place. You feel her breath hot on your neck, her teeth grazing your earlobe. "You're mine," she murmurs, the possessiveness in her voice making your stomach clench. "Mine to take, mine to use."
Her words cut through the haze of pleasure, bringing you back to the reality of the moment. You're in her office, in the middle of the day, and she's fucking you like it's the most natural thing in the world. Like you're here solely for her pleasure, to be used and discarded when she's done. And the thing is, you like it. You crave it. You want to be that for her, that release she needs.
Emily takes hold of your wrists, forcing them behind your back. Her grip is firm, almost painful as she pulls them taught. Your back arches, pushing your chest out, your breasts brushing against the desk. The sudden shift in position sends a bolt of pleasure through your body, the new angle making her strap-on hit just the right spot inside you. You can't help the moan that escapes your lips, and she responds with a low growl of satisfaction.
"You're only good for this," she pants, the words a dark promise in your ear. "Spread out and soaked, just waiting to be used." Her voice harsh. You know she's right. In this moment, you're nothing but her release, her way to let go of the stress of the job. And you don't mind. You don't mind at all.
A particularly hard thrust forces a moan out of you. "You better stop moaning like a slut or I'll stop right now," she warns, her voice low and threatening. You bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the sounds that keep spilling out despite your efforts.
The wetness from your pussy is audible with every thrust, a slick, wanton sound that fills the room and sends a fresh wave of need crashing over you. You try to keep your voice low, to stay in control, but it's a losing battle. Each time she drives into you, the wet slap of skin on skin echoes through the room, a testament to how desperately you're craving this release.
Emily's grip tightens, her fingers digging into your skin as she uses your body for her own relief. You can feel her breathing getting heavier, her movements growing more erratic. Her hips are a piston, driving into you with a ferocity that borders on painful, but you don’t care. You're so close, the pressure building in your stomach like a storm about to break.
With each thrust, your breasts brush against the desk, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Even through your shirt the friction is delicious, your nipples tightening into hard peaks that rub against the wood, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming mix. You arch your back, pushing into her, needing more, needing her to fill you completely. Her silicone cock stretches you, claiming every inch of you.
The pressure builds, the storm in your stomach swirling tighter and tighter. You can feel your orgasm approaching, the electricity crackling along your skin. Emily's breathing is ragged in your ear, her grip on your wrists like iron. You know she's close too, can feel the tension in her body, the way she's holding back. But she's enjoying this, enjoying watching you squirm and beg.
"Next time I bend you over my desk," she whispers, her voice a dark promise, "I’m not closing the blinds. I want them to see what a whore you are for me." The words send a shiver down your spine, the thought of being exposed, displayed for others to see. But the fear is mixed with excitement, a thrill that makes you even wetter. You nod frantically, anything to keep her going, to keep her using you like this.
You can feel the burn in your shoulders, the ache in your back, but it's a good pain, a pain that tells you she's in control. She uses your arms to pull you back onto her cock, each thrust now hitting deeper, filling you in a way that’s almost too much. Your legs are trembling, threatening to give out, but she holds you in place, her grip unyielding.
Emily's breath is hot and heavy in your ear, her voice a low growl as she whispers dirty, degrading things about how much of a slut you are for her, how much you want this. And the worst part is, it's all true. You're so wet, so desperate for her, that you're practically dripping onto the floor. The thought of it, the reality of it, sends another spike of arousal through you.
"Cum for me," she says, her voice a demand, not a question. You try to hold back, to keep some semblance of control, but it's no use. She's driving into you like a hammer, and you know you're going to shatter at any moment.
With a silent scream, you do. Your body convulses around the strap-on, muscles clenching and releasing in waves of pleasure. Your eyes squeeze shut, your teeth digging into your lip to keep the sound contained. The orgasm is intense, stealing your breath and leaving your body shaking.
Emily doesn't stop, though. She keeps moving, riding through your climax, pushing you even higher until you think you're going to break apart. Your legs shake, your body quaking with pleasure, but she's relentless. She's so deep inside you that you can feel her with every beat of your heart. The strap-on is slick with your juices now, sliding in and out with ease, each stroke sending you spiralling again and again into oblivion.
As your orgasm subsides, she finally lets go of your wrists, allowing you to collapse onto the desk with a gasp. You're panting, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. Emily's grip on your hips tightens, her nails digging in as she starts to move again, slower this time, more deliberate. She's savouring this, enjoying the feel of you coming down from the high she's just given you. You whimper, your body still sensitive from the onslaught, but she shows no mercy, keeping the pressure steady, pushing you towards another peak.
You feel the heat from her body as she leans over you, her chest pressing against your back, her breath hot on your neck. Her hips grind into you, her thrusts shallower but no less intense. You can feel the head of her strap rubbing against your g-spot with every movement, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.
"Emily," you whimper, your voice barely audible. "Emily, please, I can't…"
Her response is a smirk that you can feel against your neck. "You can," she whispers, her voice thick with desire. "You will." And then she delivers another slap to your ass, the sound echoing in the room and sending a jolt of pain that morphs into pleasure, sending you closer to the edge again.
Her hand slips from your hip, the heat of it leaving a trail down the length of your thigh. You can feel her fingertips dancing closer, closer, until they finally reach the apex of your thighs. Your breath catches as she circles your clit with a slow, deliberate touch. The sensation is like fire, making your muscles tense and your eyes fly open. She's so good at this, so in tune with your body that it's like she can read your thoughts, anticipate every need before it even forms in your mind.
Emily's strokes become more insistent, her thumb pressing harder against your clit as she watches your reaction, gauging the moment she'll send you over the edge. You feel the tension coil tighter and tighter, like a spring about to snap. And then she does, with a suddenness that steals the breath from your lungs. You fall apart beneath her, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm, your pussy clenching around the dildo as waves of pleasure roll through you.
As your climax subsides, Emily lets out a satisfied breath, pushing her grey locks out of her face. She looks down at you, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Good girl," she murmurs, her voice filled with satisfaction. "So good for me."
With a deliberate slowness, she pulls out of you, the sensation making you gasp. You feel empty, the absence of her strap leaving you with a sense of longing. You stay there, face down bent over the desk, trying to catch your breath, as she stands up and steps back. You can feel the wetness of her toy sliding out of you, leaving you open and vulnerable.
Emily walks over to her desk, her hips swaying with the same confidence that's always drawn you to her. She deposits the strap-on into the top drawer with a soft thunk, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Then she opens another drawer, pulls out wet wipes, and returns to you, her expression unreadable.
With a firm but gentle touch, she helps you to stand, your legs shaky and your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You're a mess, your makeup smudged, your shirt half-unbuttoned and your trousers around your ankles. She looks you over, her gaze lingering on your swollen pussy before she starts to clean you up. The cold wipes a contrast to the heat that still lingers between your legs, and you jump a little as she wipes away the evidence of your arousal.
Once you're clean and your clothes are back in place, she nods towards the floor, her voice low and commanding. "On your knees." You don't hesitate, lowering yourself to the ground and moving under the desk, your knees hitting the floor with a soft thud. You can see her legs, the fabric of her skirt brushing against your cheek as she stands over you, and you feel a fresh surge of desire.
Emily sits back down in her chair, her legs spreading wide in a silent invitation. With trembling fingers, you reach up and hook her panties to the side, exposing the soft, pink flesh of her pussy framed by pubic hair. You can see the wetness of her desire glistening between her thighs dampening the hair there, and your mouth waters. You lean in, pressing your face into the warm, musky scent of her sex, inhaling deeply. She lets out a soft groan, one hand reaching down to grab a fistful of your hair, guiding you closer.
You brush the pubic hair aside as your tongue traces the length of her slit, feeling the heat and the wetness of her arousal. You taste the saltiness of her juices, the sweetness that is uniquely hers. Emily's hand tightens in your hair, guiding you, setting the pace as she rocks her hips against your mouth. You're eager to please her, to give her the same release she just gave you.
Her thighs tense around your head, her breath hitching as you find her clit with the tip of your tongue. You suck and flick, feeling the little nub swell beneath you, her legs quivering. You can hear the wet sounds of your ministrations, the only noise in the otherwise silent office.
Emily's hand tightens in your hair, manoeuvring you as she pleases. You're at her mercy, her willing servant, and it sends a thrill through you. She pulls your head back, tilts it up so she can look down at you, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Good girl," she praises. "Keep going."
You nod, eager to make her feel as good as she's made you feel. You dive back in, your tongue sliding along her slit, tasting every inch of her. She starts to rock her hips, grinding against your mouth. You can feel her orgasm building, the tension in her thighs, the way her breathing changes. And that's when she starts to ride your face, her movements growing more urgent, more demanding. You take it, letting her use you as she needs.
Her hand in your hair is a constant pressure, guiding you, pushing you into her, making you work harder. You're lost in the sensation of her, the taste of her, the need to make her come. So you suck harder on her clit, your mouth a vacuum around the swollen bud. She gasps, her grip tightening, her hips jerking up to meet you. The sound of her pleasure fills the room, mingling with the wet sounds of your mouth on her.
You're lost in the moment, in the rhythm of her hips, the scent of her arousal. Your own desire is a distant memory, drowned out by the need to serve her, to give her this. Your tongue swirls and flicks, tracing the folds of her sex, exploring the slick warmth of her. You can feel her thighs quivering, her muscles tensing, and you know she's close. You push yourself further, ignoring the ache in your jaw because all that matters is her pleasure.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Emily’s whole body locks up and you freeze.
The door opens.
“Hey, do you have a second?” someone says, already stepping into the office.
“Sure,” she says, voice level, pushing her chair further under the desk.
You stay where you are. Keeping your mouth on her. Slower now, more deliberate. Her hand tightens against your scalp, but she doesn’t push you away.
Emily does her best to keep her voice steady, answering the agent’s questions with practiced ease, even as your mouth works her over beneath the desk, every flick of your tongue threatening to crack her composure.
“I’ve got those reports for you. Want me to leave them on the desk?”
Emily's breath hitches, but she manages to keep her tone even. “Yes, that'd be great. Just set them there.”
You don’t miss a beat, sliding two of your fingers into her slick warmth, curling them upwards to find her g-spot. Her hand clamps down on your head, pushing you into her, silently begging for you to keep going. You feel her tense around you, her hips rocking slightly to meet your hand. You can't see the agent’s face, but you can imagine the obliviousness, the complete lack of awareness of what's happening just out of their line of sight. It's a thrill that sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.
Emily’s grip tightens, her breathing shallow, and you know she's going to ride this out. You suck harder on her clit, swirling your tongue around the sensitive bud as your fingers pump in and out of her.
You hear footsteps approaching, and your body tenses, holding your breath as the agent nears the desk. There’s a pause, then the soft thud of the file landing on the desk right above you. The sound feels impossibly loud in the silence.
"Let me know if you need anything else," the agent says casually, their voice cutting through the quiet air.
You stay perfectly still, heart hammering in your chest, every sense heightened. You wait for what feels like an eternity until the agent’s footsteps start to retreat toward the door, and you begin to relax.
Emily’s hand tightens against the edge of the desk, and her voice is steady, but you can hear the strain. "I will. Close the door on your way out."
Finally the door clicks shut.
Emily pulls back abruptly, her hand still entangled in your hair. She looks down at you, her eyes dark with a mix of desire and something else you can't quite name. It's a look that sends a shiver down your spine. She tugs your hair, forcing your head back so you're looking up at her, your mouth red and swollen from her use.
"You forgot to lock the door," Emily says, her voice low, dangerous, but steady. Her fingers stay tangled tight in your hair, holding you in place, making sure you are looking right at her. "You could have gotten us caught."
You start to open your mouth to say something, to defend yourself maybe, but the sharp glint in her eyes warns you to stay silent.
"And you kept going," she says, her mouth curving in something that is not quite a smile. "You just couldn't help yourself."
She leans down, her other hand cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over your swollen lips. "You risked everything for a chance to make me fall apart under my own desk."
She straightens up again, still holding you steady. "When we get home, you are going to pay for that little stunt," she says, her voice like velvet. "I own you. And I am going to make damn sure you remember it."
With a jerk of her hand, she stands you up, turning you around so you're facing the desk. "Now go lock the door," she says, her voice still low and dangerous. "And get back to eating me out."
You scurry to the door, your legs wobbly and your knees threatening to give out. Your heart is racing, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through your veins. You lock the door and rush back to her, eager to continue your task.
Emily’s eyes are half-lidded, watching you with a hunger that makes you feel alive. She spreads her legs wider, giving you full access to her dripping pussy, her pubic hair damp with a mix of her arousal and your saliva. You can't help but let out a guttural groan at the site. You don’t need any more encouragement than that. You drop back down to the floor, your knees hitting the plush office carpet with a muffled sound.
With a renewed vigour, you push your fingers back into her, feeling her warm, tight walls clench around you. Your thumb finds her clit again, and you resume the slow, firm circles that had brought her so close to the edge before the interruption. Emily’s grip relaxes slightly on the desk, and she lets out a deep, shaky breath, her eyes closing as she succumbs to the sensations.
Her legs spread wider, giving you more room to manoeuvre. You take the opportunity to press closer, your tongue flicking rapidly against the sensitive nub. The taste of her fills your mouth, and you can feel the throb of your own arousal building again in response. Her thighs tense around you, and you know she’s close. You suck her clit into your mouth, your tongue moving in quick, firm strokes that make her moan softly. The sound is music to your ears, a symphony of desire that makes you want to push her over the edge.
Emily’s hand returns to the back of your head, guiding you with more urgency. She’s lost in the moment, her professional demeanour slipping away to reveal the primal need beneath. You can feel the tension in her body as her orgasm approaches, the way she grinds against your face, her hips moving desperate for release.
Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps, her hand tightening in your hair. You know she’s close, so you redouble your efforts, your tongue flicking and curling over her clit. Your cheeks are wet with her juices, your jaw starting to ache from the effort, but you don’t care. You want to make her scream, to feel her come apart in your mouth.
Her thighs tighten around your head, and you know she’s on the precipice. With one final, hard suck, you feel her body go rigid. She lets out a muffled cry, biting down on her lip to keep the sound contained as her orgasm crashes over her. Her pussy clenches around your fingers, pulsing with each wave of pleasure.
You stay there, licking and sucking gently, letting her ride it out. The sound of her breathing, the tremble in her legs, it’s all so erotic. When she finally relaxes, you pull away, looking up at her. She’s leaning back in her chair, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. The hand that was in your hair falls to her side, and she gives you a satisfied nod.
"Good girl," she murmurs, the words a low purr of approval.
She leans back in her chair, watching as you stand up, your legs still wobbly. "But," she says, and the word hangs in the air, "I'm still going to punish you when we get home."
Part Two
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everrinsly · 2 months ago
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paris x gen best friends with benefits vibes.
needy with shidou. fluff. slight nsfw. very suggestive. fem!reader. | not proofread.
more reads!
~~~~~
After dinner, the shared apartment melted into its usual evening rhythm. Shidou on the couch, flipping through channels with half-lidded eyes, all sleepy and tame. Rin, ever stoic, cleaning up the kitchen with quiet efficiency.
And you curled up on the couch with Karasu, as he analyzed plays, cheek pressed to his shoulder and eyelids fluttering shut with the softest sigh.
You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until you heard Karasu's silky low voice and a firm hand on your waist.
"Let's get you to bed, angel."
And then, you were weightless. Slightly wobbling, but relatively stable—
"Nah, I got her—"
"Okay, well, don't drop her—"
"BRO—"
"She's shifting. The fuck was I supposed to do?!"
"Shit, I don't know. Maybe DON'T hold her like a bean sack?"
"Both of you, just shut the fuck up."
—and then finally, all unconscious and half-asleep, you felt warm arms cradling you gently, carrying you away from the couch. Your body stirred, but not enough to wake fully. Just enough to feel the familiar heat of Shidou’s chest, the spicy smell of his sweat and cologne, and his heartbeat drumming softly against your ear, the whisper of his breath against your temple.
“Shhh,” he murmured. “Just me. Stole you from the crow, baby. You looked too sweet to leave out there.”
You mumbled something sleepy and unintelligible, nose nuzzling closer to the curve of his neck. He was warm. He let out a soft groan, low and desperate.
“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me one of these days,” he whispered, brushing your hair back from your face as he lowered the both of you onto his bed, sheets cool against your legs, the warmth of his body folding around you in a slow sprawl.
He didn’t let you go. He never did once he got his hands on you.
You were fully on top of him now, chest to chest, all small and soft. One palm cradled your head, carding through your scalp, playing with your loose curls; the other low on your waist, pressing gently under the hem of your oversized shirt—the one you had borrowed from Rin but now lived in like it was yours.
“You smell sinful,” he whispered, nudging his nose along your cheek. “I just wanna eat you up.”
Your breath hitched, and Shidou smirked when you gave a sleepy little squirm.
“Still flustered even half-asleep,” he murmured, his hand sliding to the dimples of your lower back, pulling you snugly against him. “You really don’t get how crazy you make me.”
You whispered, “I’m just tired…"
“Yeah?” His voice dipped, raspy and gravelly, all needy. “Then just lie here. Let me hold you. Pretend I’m not totally losing my mind from how fucking sweet you are.”
You nuzzled into his chest, heart thudding. “You’re being dramatic.”
Shidou huffed a laugh, lips brushing your forehead. “No. Rin’s dramatic. Karasu’s a flirt. I’m just honest.”
He shifted closer, one leg slipping between yours. His thigh pressed right against you, warm and firm, and your hips instinctively rolled the tiniest bit.
Shidou froze. Then groaned—quiet, wrecked. "You can't do that, doll."
You can't help it. Even unconscious, it felt good. The slight friction that eased an ache you didn't even know you had. So you shifted your hips again, pressing harder against his thighs. A quiet sigh escaped your lips, all breathless and laced with sleep.
But Shidou...Shidou lost all control and wasted no time in rutting up into you. Hands planted firmly on the swell of your ass, guiding you, rocking you. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth—
"Baby," he whispered, kissing your temple. “You keep moving like that, you're not gonna be able to walk tomorrow."
“I'm sorry,” you mumbled, burying your face in his neck.
"You're a fucking needy little thing today, aren't you?"
—and you didn’t answer, just let yourself melt against him, still grinding, chasing the high that was so close. His lips found your jaw, your neck, down to your collarbone, then back up. Licking, sucking, blowing. His hands squeezed the globes of your ass, tugging the flesh. An echo of a soft smack. All messy, desperate, needy, and so so wrecked.
And then, your heartbeat slowed, comfort finally overtaking.
And Shidou...
He held you tighter, lips pressed to your crown, every part of him aching with love and want and the quiet agony of waiting.
You were his right now. Just a little longer.
"You're gonna ride me filthy tomorrow, baby."
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depravitycentral · 1 year ago
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Just a quick passing thought, but I think it's so interesting to know what different yanderes do right in the moment of their orgasm - do they freeze up? Do their hips keep plunging against yours, the movements strained and uneven? Or maybe they reach out and squeeze, needing something to ground themselves with while they whimper and gasp out your name over and over again?
Thinking about yanderes who freeze up and just stare as their orgasm washes over them. The ones who let out this choked gasp as they see white blurs in the edges of their vision, every muscle in their body going taut and freezing up and their jaw dropping wide open because fuck. You just feel too good and they can't help but stare down at your pretty body - naked and sweating and trembling all for them them them, your eyes glassy and wide and spit smeared across your lips from where they'd been kissing you. (More like eating you, really, with the vigor and amount of tongue, but it was passionate and sweet and only a little bit one-sided, so that's still kissing, right?) They're scared to move as their cock throbs and pulses inside of you, the feeling of your tight, warm walls making their head spin and honest to god tears well up in the corner of their eyes from the sensation of you.
You're just too much - if they were to move and feel friction against their oversensitive cock they'd let out this pathetic little whine, a sound that makes them flush bright red and avoid eye contact with you because it's just all so embarrassing and needy. So instead, they hover over you, abs clenching and balls noticeably pulsing against the curve of your ass as they feel each and every spurt of cum push into you, the sensation leaving them breathless and burying their face into your neck, little mantras and chants of your name filling your ears. Please come for me, please please please please - they tell you as the last few drops ooze out of them and directly into you.
Asahi Azumane, Tobio Kageyama, Tsutomu Goshiki, Tooru Oikawa, Atsumu Miya, Tomura Shigaraki, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Kurapika Kurta, Knuckle Bine, Giyuu Tomioka, Gyutaro
Thinking of men who lose control of their hips as their orgasm hits them. As soon as the rushed, husky groan of 'm coming, take it, fuck take it slips out of them, the rest of it is a blur. They aren't in control of themselves - their hips move on their own, following some carnal, natural instinct to fuck into you deeper, harder, longer until he's absolutely spent. He's physically crushing you, his hips pounding into you so hard that you're moved further and further up the bed (or the floor, if they couldn't quite make it there), your body merely dead weight. It stems from this urge to fuck their cum into you as deeply as they can, an instinct to claim and mark and breed you overclouding their mind.
There's no moment of rest with them, even after they've given you everything they have - their hips still twitch, pushing forward ever so slightly and making them hiss in pain-twinged pleasure, the oversensitivity and the gooey, warm feeling of their cum coating your walls making them bare their teeth and practically glare at you. You just feel too good - they're an animal around you, truly, and it's only after they're spent that they'll swallow heavily, licking their lips and letting themselves really look at you. To see the way you're panting, how your eyes are all wide, to feel the stinging against their back where you've clawed at them. The afterglow makes them giddy, and even if they don't show it, you'll feel it - the way they slowly grow hard inside of you again is difficult to ignore, after all.
Hajime Iwaizumi, Aran Ojiro, Daichi Sawamura, Yuu Nishinoya, Keishin Ukai, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Akaza, Phinks Magcub, Uvogin, Hisoka Marrow, Enji Todoroki, Keigo Takami, Kai Chisaki
Thinking of men who have to reach out and grab something to ground themselves with as their high approaches. It feels like a tidal wave, like there's something warm and big and hot building up in their navel, the sensation making their toes curl and their eyes cross and their muscles spasm and a hand reach out blindly, feeling, squeezing, groping - It's their tether to Earth as the wave crashes and breaks, ropes of cum shooting from their swollen, sensitive tip, something vaguely resembling your name falling from their lips as they pant into your mouth. It's the only thing keeping them aware of their surroundings, of you, as the pleasure overwhelms them.
And they're not especially picky about where they're grabbing onto for support, either - anything that's fatty and nearby will do. Your thigh, your hips, your stomach, your breast, your arm, hell, even your neck will do. Thick fingers wrap around the flesh, squeezing hard enough to leave light, finger-shaped bruises on your skin, their muscles still twitching against you as they groan and grunt, hips occasionally bucking into yours but losing momentum. You can actually feel how their orgasm and your cunt are affecting them this way - the way they grasp onto you even tighter when you accidentally clench down on them, the hiss they let out through clenched teeth seeming to make that spurt shoot into you even harder. And their hand doesn't always stay idle, either - they're actively moving it around as their orgasm continues on, switching from your chest to your hip to your cheek and back against to settle heavily against your nipple, burying their face between your tits as they groan and pathetically hump at you. And while they'll feel a bit guilty for the marks the next day, they can't hide the tent forming in their pants or the way they have to clear their throat to avoid telling you that they needs to leave more.
Nobunaga Hazama, Shalnark, Leorio Paradinight, Tetsurou Kuroo, Koushi Sugawara, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Lev Haiba, Gyomei Himejima, Douma, Kyojuro Rengoku, Toshinori Yagi, Spinner
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oligbia · 16 days ago
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At the Same Damn Time
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NSFW under the fold, MDNI (I will block u if i catch u) Tags: Timeskip, BokutoXFem!reader, AtsumuXFem!reader, AtsumuXReaderXBokuto, threesome,no established relationship, decently vanilla. Atsumu is a little rough, but nothing kinky. no plot. not edited.
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⠀˳ ˳ . ⋅ ॱ ˙ ॱ ⋅ . I take requests! Visit my profile to submit!˳ ˳ . ⋅ ॱ ˙ ॱ ⋅ .
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don't ask me why i wrote this. i have no good reason. i just, i joked one too many times.
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Bokuto
He moves slowly, taking his time with you. His large hands holding firmly on your thighs, fingers pressing indents into the flesh of them as he licks and sucks on your clit like a man on a mission. He treats the pleasure of eating you out like it's going to be his last meal, like he may not get to see you like this again.
But with how good it feels, how good he feels, there is no doubt you wouldn't do this again. Or even a million times over. The way he groans and grunts against your dripping cunt every time your thighs squeeze or your hips roll, the way his hands squeeze your thighs tighter when you moan, he's determined to make you cum. He's desperate for it.
"C'mon sweetheart I know you can," He says when he pulls back for just a short moment for air before diving back in with a newfound vigor. His energy is neverending, it drives you insane.
" 'm close- fuck Bo," you groan out as your hips squirm under his relentless tongue, he just chuckles- cocky and giddy. He loves it when he gets what he wants, and right now, your release is all he wants.
He doesn't give up, not even after your voice raises in volume as waves of pleasure unleash over you. He wants every drop, he wants to taste every bit of it. He wants to feel his spit mix with it, he wants to taste you on his lips.
"Pretty girl, let me do it again. Please?"
Atsumu
Atsumu has never been one to be humble or modest. He's confident, he's self-aware. He knows he's good. But he also knows he'll put in the time and effort to remind you. And god, does he remind you.
The way he thrusts into you is enough to make you throw your head back in overwhelming pleasure, his hips rolling deep into you, never pulling all the way out, just constantly reaching deep inside to reach the point that makes you feel so good your walls flutter around him, practically squeezing like they are begging for more.
"feels really good, don't it?" He says against your neck as he leaves open kisses- never biting, always careful to not leave any marks. He knows what this is. Nothing serious, just people with wants and needs. "Shit, right there-" you moan out, back arching as he keeps hitting that sweet spot in you. He lifts himself up, his weight resting on his forearms as he finds a deeper angle. His eyes search your face, watching how the pleasure finds you.
"Such a pretty thing for me, aren't ya?" He coos inbetween breathless grunts, you'd swear he was mocking you if it the red on his ears didn't make it clear he was just as pleasured.
At The Same Damn Time
To be fair, you knew how big they both were. They're top-of-the-ranking volleyball players. They're big guys, built out with broad muscles and sculpted bodies. But it wasn't until they had you like this that you really realized it.
"Shit, look at her Bo, she's a mess-" Atsumu teased with that cocky grin as he stuffed his cock into your mouth, hips rolling as you sucked him off. The tips of his ears turn red as a shaking groan escapes the back of his throat when you moan around his length.
Bokuto can only chuck low as he continues to thrust into you, making long and methodical movements. He's absolutely captivated by the way that your hole stretches and clenches around him as he pulls almost all the way out before almost ramming back in. Each thrust makes your body shudder and small tears prick up in your eyes- pleasure overwhelming.
"Don't slow down now, pretty thing, you're doin' so well," Atsumu groans put, speeding up as he fucks deeper into your mouth, chasing the feeling of your gags around his throat.
"Be gentle with her, Atsumu," Bo reminds him between breaths, "can't let her wear out now,"
Atsumu just chuckles, gently grabbing at your hair as he fucks your face at a new angle, "She's fine, aren't ya doll?"
You moan in response, both boys' hips shudder at the sound of your moans muddled by Atsumu's cock.
"Shit, let me cum in her mouth then we can switch places, you gotta see what he mouth can do Bo-" Atsumu groans as his thrusts get faster, gagging and choking you, the feeling around his cock pulling him closer and closer to the edge.
Bokuto groans, his own head falling back, "Fuck i'll take you up on that 'sumu. She's getting close-"
And you were, you knew you were. Both of them could tell. "Finish her off then my turn," Atsumu groaned, his eyes shut tight as he gets close. Bokuto fucks into your faster now, harder, still taking long and deep thrusts. His large hands push your thighs back, and your knees into Atsumu's back. They're just so fucking big, you can't help but feel absolutely swallowed up in their pleasures.
You moan again and it pulls Atsumu to the edge, "Fuck, you gonna swallow it, right? Gonna swallow my cum, pretty girl?"
You moan and nod, looking up at him through your lashes. He moans softly and thrusts deep into your face one last time before cumming into your mouth, the sensation hitting you in the back of your throat as you choke on it. He pulls out slowly, his large fingers gently caressing the corners of your mouth to clean up the excess. "There we go, such a sweetheart."
You whine and cough through a moan as you struggle to swallow it all but manage by some feat. Not done with you yet, Atsumu takes your breast into his mouth, letting his tongue circle around your nipple before sucking on it.
Both boys are stunned at the sounds falling from your mouth as you get closer and closer to what would be the first of many orgasms that night.
"Keep doing that, 'sumu, she sounds so pretty," Bo groans, reaching his large fingers down from your hip to rub on your clit for you. He's always so desperate to see you finish for him.
Atsumu groans and you moan louder, back arching. Atsumu chuckles and pulls off from your breasts, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. His arms move to find yours, pinning them above his head. He's so strong, his muscles flexing a little, "Stay still, let it feel good, 'kay?" He says in a low, hushed voice before moving to your other breast.
"close. I'm close-" you mange to babble out as the familiar tightness grows in your lower stomach, moans turning to whines and whimpers.
"You got it, baby, you can cum for us right?" Bokuto says sweetly between grunts, his thrusting never letting up as his fingers rub on your clit in faster circles.
The sounds that fell from your lips as you came undone were holy, pretty enough to make both boys groan and moan themselves as they gave you attention in all the sensitive spots you wanted.
When you come down from the orgasm, the two smile at eacother.
"Switch places?" Atsumu asks over his shoulder at Bokuto, who was watching with such intensity as your hole practically milked his cock. He's so mesmerized by how you come undone.
"Do we gotta? She looks so pretty like this-" Bokuto pouts a little, gripping your hips as if he could keep you to himself.
Atsumu rolls his eyes, "Don't be a dick, my turn-"
Bokuto huffs and pulls out, a squelching sound making them both groan again. You shiver and whine.
"Look at her, she's so sensitive," Atsumu says softly, watching your cunt glisten for a moment before turning to look at you, his hand finding your face. He holds it with a gentle tenderness like this isn't the most lewd situation the three of you have ever been in.
"You wanna suck 'em off too, right doll? You don't mind if we switch spots?"
You nod and pull at Bokuto's wrists so he'll move closer. They both smile devishly.
It would be a long, long evening.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 9 months ago
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Under the Stars ❤️
Angst with a happy ending, mdni. 18+. Fwb but both parties are smitten and don't know it...❤️
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❤️
Eddie can't help but smile as you giggle and attempt to move out of his embrace.
"Come on princess, stay" he kisses down your neck and disappears under the covers to press kisses over your stomach. "Stop" you shriek with laughter as his stubble tickles your skin.
He can't stop smiling as he settles beside you. "Come on sweetheart, stay" he pouts and you give in because you always find that look endearing.
"Okay, for a little while, then I have to go" you try to be stern but Eddie pulls an exaggerated sad face that sets off your giggles again.
"Can I see you tonight?" he asks hopefully and your smile dims. You look away from him and there's a distance to you that wasn't there before.
"I don't know. Aren't you seeing Stacey tonight?" he blinks at the sudden tenseness in your tone and swallows.
Ever since the two of you got together you both said this would be casual, you could both date other people and that was fine...at first.
The truth was he liked spending time with you, you were funny and sweet and the sex was incredible. He has been on a few dates with Stacey and a girl called Jenna before that and he thought they were nice and sweet but there wasn't this urgent need to see the two of them constantly.
He's trying not to look too closely at what that means, until you tell him something that makes his heart sink. "Um Pierre asked me out on a date, I said yes... I mean, you have Stacey and there was Jenna before that so I thought maybe I should get out there and date"
Eddie nods. He's been dreading this since your last date with Nathan; that guy was a total douchebag and now there was Pierre.
It's not like he could say anything. This is what you both wanted right? No attachments? Causally dating. Jesus H Christ he wanted to say something.
"Uh yeah, that's good, maybe I might meet up with Stacey then" he mumbles and you kiss his cheek, then move to his lips. The kiss lingers for a few seconds then you pull away, there's an almost sad and wistful expression in your eyes.
"I should go. I need to write this report for work and get ready for later" he nods and pulls you in for another kiss, it leaves both of you a little breathless and Eddie longing for more.
He watches you leave and sinks back onto his bed groaning. Fuck. He really should have said something.
❤️
Trying to pretend that this isn't eating him up inside he calls Stacey and they agree to meet up for a date. It would have been nice if it took his mind if you but it didn't, all he could think about was you hitting it off with Pierre and tossing him to the side.
The thought hurts like a bitch.
Stacey seems to realise that he's distracted and bluntly asks him what his problem is. "You're distracted all the time right now and honestly I'm fed up with it? I understand you're totally smitten with this other girl so maybe you should just..." She pauses at Eddie's stunned look.
"What?" he yelps and Stacey frowns.
"Am I wrong? you pine after her when she's not around and it should bother me but it doesn't because I don't think this is working out anyway so it's best we just go out separate ways anyway" Eddie is still stuck for something to say.
"We aren't... I'm not smitten with her...we're just, it's just casual and she's on a date tonight anyway" he says all of this but it feels wrong and Stacey seems to think so too. It doesn't help that thinking of you on this date is getting to him as well.
"Seriously Munson? Do you maybe think that she might have felt the same way but didn't think you did? That's why she's on this date instead of with you?" She shakes her head and gives him a potting glance.
"Good luck Eddie. You definitely need it" Stacey leaves at that point and he's left alone with a million thoughts running through his head and the truth hitting him all at once.
The truth is he really has fallen for you hard and he doesn't want to date anyone else. Just you. Yet he didn't realise it until now and it could be too late.
Fuck. Without another thought he leaves money on the table for the bill and races out of the restaurant, he's convinced he's possibly too late and you may have actually given up on him. Maybe you might hit it off with Pierre and be incredibly happy with him.
Even if the thought kills him inside he wants you to be happy but he's not losing you without putting up a fight.
Your apartment isn't far from the restaurant or his place, he's hoping you may be back from your date but dreading finding out how it went at the same time.
There's a halfway point between his apartment and your apartment that you and Eddie would meet up at sometimes, it's a beautiful park that you were in love with, you fed the ducks in the pond every Saturday and Eddie liked to join you.
In fact that's where the two of you first met. He wonders if that's how you met Pierre as well or if it was at work.
The thought of anyone else kissing you and making you giggle, making you come apart with pleasure and waking up beside you, tears new pieces of his heart away.
He really was a goddamn idiot.
❤️
When he gets to your apartment he knocks a couple times but realises that no one is home. The sinking feeling in his chest weighs heavily on him.
You must still be out with Pierre. He swallows down the disappointment that he feels and heads back outside.
He's just making his way past the entrance to the park when he decides to go in and have a few moments to himself.
While he's sitting in the bench he catches a glimpse of a very familiar umbrella and his heart leaps in his chest. You're walking towards him with a shy smile on your face.
"Hi" he feels almost shy seeing you and you return his grin.
"Hi, How was your date?" You ask softly and settle on the bench beside him. He realises this is his chance to tell you how he feels.
"Stacey and I aren't seeing each other anymore sweetheart" your eyes widen and you move towards him and rub his arm in a soothing manner.
"Oh, I'm sorry Eddie" he shakes his head and reaches out to caress your cheek, delights in the way that your eyes light up at his touch.
"I'm not. It should have ended a while ago...so how was Pierre?" He's dreading finding out but he has to know.
"Pierre is really nice but um... I'm not seeing him again" his fingers interlace with yours and he squeezes your hand.
"Good fucking riddance. You're mine, I adore you and I'm so sorry that it took me so long to realise" he blushes just a smidgen and adds on. "I really hope you feel the same way princess"
Your expression gives nothing away until he sees a tear roll down your cheek. "Do you know where I was just coming from Eddie?" He shakes his head and you answer him, "I was just coming back from your apartment but when you didn't answer the door I thought you were still with Stacey and I hated that thought" you confess.
Hearing this he moves closer to you "What a coincidence because I was just coming back from yours" you're smiling by this point and he wastes no time in kissing you.
"I don't want to be with anyone else, I don't want you to be with anyone else. So let's just be together and stop with all of this other shit yeah?" You're nodding vigorously and you kiss him again under the stars, on the bench and underneath the trees where the two of you first met.
❤️✨
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thirteenheavens · 6 months ago
Note
first time having raw sex with wonwoo
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Ahh stop I love these types of requests hehe gives me so much freedom hehe hope you enjoy guys!!
Wonwoo had always been gentle with you, always careful not to push too far or move too fast. But tonight was different. Tonight, there was a hunger in his eyes that you'd never seen before. As he pressed you down onto the bed, his hands roamed over your body with a newfound urgency. His lips found yours, his kisses rough and demanding as he tried to devour you.
"I need you," he growled against your skin, his voice low and desperate. "I need you so badly."
He pulled away from you for a moment, his eyes searching yours.
"I want to feel you, all of you," he whispered, his hand trailing down your body to the hem of your shirt. "No barriers, no condoms. Just you and me, skin to skin."
You nodded, your heart racing at the thought of feeling him inside you with nothing between you. Wonwoo quickly stripped off your clothes, his eyes drinking in the sight of your naked body.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands roaming over your curves as he admired you. "So perfect."
He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and serious. "There's no going back once we start."
You nodded again, your heart pounding in your chest.
"I want this," you whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I want you, all of you."
Wonwoo leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his body pressing against yours as he lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly pushed into you, groaning at the feeling of your tight, bare walls enveloping him.
"Fuck," he hissed, his eyes fluttering closed as he fought to control himself. "You feel so good, even better than I imagined."
He stayed still for a moment, his breathing ragged as he adjusted to the sensation of being inside you with nothing between you.
"You're mine," he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Mine and only mine."
He pulled out slightly before thrusting back in, his movements slow and deliberate.
"I'm never letting you go," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. "You're going to be mine forever."
His pace gradually increased, his hips snapping against yours as he began to lose control. He buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin as he panted and groaned.
"You're driving me crazy," he growled, his
fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as you met his thrusts with your own.
"Harder," you moaned, your nails raking down his back. "I need more, please."
Wonwoo's eyes darkened at your plea, his control snapping entirely.
He slammed into you with a ferocity that left you breathless, his movements rough and possessive as he claimed you as his own. He was relentless, his hips pounding into you with a punishing pace. He pulled back slightly, his eyes raking over your body as he watched himself disappear inside you.
"Look at you," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Taking me so well, like you were made for me."
He shifted his angle slightly, his cock hitting a spot deep inside you that made you see stars. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as pleasure coursed through your veins.
"Found it," he grunted, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
He continued to pound into that spot, relentlessly driving you closer and closer to the edge.
"You're close, aren't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "I can feel you tightening around me."
You could only moan in response, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. Wonwoo leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Come for me," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "I want to feel you come undone around me."
His words were your undoing.
You came with a loud cry, your walls clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Wonwoo's pace faltered for a moment as he fought to hold back his own release, his jaw clenched tightly. He gritted his teeth, his grip on your hips tightening as he struggled to maintain control.
"Where do you want me to cum?" he asked through gritted teeth, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.
You looked up at him, your eyes hazy with pleasure as you fought to catch your breath.
"Inside me," you whispered, your voice hoarse. "I want to feel you fill me up."
Wonwoo's eyes rolled back as he came, his body shaking with the force of his release.
He spilled himself deep inside you, his hot cum coating your walls as he let out a low, guttural moan. He collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He buried his face in your neck, still reeling from the intensity of his orgasm.
"I can't believe I just..." he trailed off, too overwhelmed to finish his sentence.
You ran your fingers through his hair, a soft smile on your face.
"That was intense," you whispered, your own body still tingling from the aftershocks of your orgasm.
Wonwoo nodded, his face still buried in your neck. He was quiet for a moment, his breathing slowly returning to normal.
"I've never lost control like that before," he finally admitted, his voice muffled against your skin.
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