#and felt so insane about his work that I needed to make something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherrypopidol · 3 days ago

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Can you write something about passionate sex with Dave Mustaine (Rust in Peace era), using some of the headcanons from your NSFW alphabet? I can't stop thinking about the reader and him in the missionary position while they whisper sweet nothings in their ears!!! 😫

ofc!! i hope this is what you wanted <3

𝓡𝓾𝓲𝓷 𝓜𝓮 𝓢𝓸𝓯𝓽𝓵𝔂

𝒹𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

the weight of his body pressed you into the mattress, every inch of him overwhelming — the way his hips rolled with that deliberate, claiming rhythm, how his breath ghosted hot across your cheek, the deep guttural sounds he made when you clenched around him

doggy wasn’t supposed to be this intense but with Dave?

it was everything.

his fingers digged into your hips, ginger hair falling in wild strands around your back like a curtain, shielding you from the rest of the world. his eyes, darkened with something feral and emotional, never left your ass for a second

“Still with me?” he rasped, voice gravel-soaked from the growl he’d buried in your throat a minute ago

you nodded, barely, your lips parted in silent shock from how deep he was — how slow. each thrust stretched you around him until you felt your walls pulse with overstimulated need. but he wouldn’t let you look away. his hips kept that maddening tempo, his body locked over yours like a promise

your hands gripped sheets, fingers twitching as you moaned through clenched teeth. “Y-Yeah… fuck… I—”

he dipped lower, his forehead brushing your back, the stubble of his jaw rough against you

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ good, baby” he muttered, lips brushing your spine “So warm around me. Like you were made for this.”

that heat in your belly coiled tight. it wasn’t just the physical — it was him, how he watched you, how he sounded. he’d been rough earlier that day, distant after rehearsal, but now?

now he was inside you like he was trying to work something out. something wordless. something deeper than desire

his fingers curled under your thigh and hitched it higher around his hip, opening you up more. the angle made you cry out. he loved that. smirked against your back like he could do this forever

“You hear yourself?” he growled, voice fraying at the edges “That sweet little sound when I get right here—” he rocked his hips into that exact spot again, hard enough to punch the breath from your lungs

“—drives me fuckin’ insane.”

“Dave—!” your voice trembled “I-I’m close—”

his hand slid to your jaw making you look at him “I know. I feel it. Let go for me, sweetheart. Let me have it.”

you clung to him, helpless, as your body gave in — walls spasming around him, legs shaking, eyes wet from the sheer intensity. the orgasm hit like a wave you couldn’t brace for. you sobbed something that might’ve been his name, might’ve just been sound and he groaned from deep in his chest, like the feel of you unraveling under him was his undoing

he didn’t stop moving. he fucked you through it, slow and deep, sweat dripping from his brow as he growled into your back

“Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna—”

and then you felt it — the sharp stutter of his hips, the low snarl he buried into your shoulder as he came inside you, hard, possessive. his hand fisted the sheets beside your head, his entire body tensing against yours as he pumped you full

neither of you moved for a long moment

just breathing

just being

when he finally softened, he pulled out and flopped next to you, bracing himself on one forearm while the other hand slid reverently across your face. his touch was warm, callused. real.

“You okay?” he whispered, hoarse. his breath still came fast.

you nodded, weakly, your eyes fluttering closed as you couldn't pull your hips down onto the bed as you kept them in the air “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay.”

“You sure?” he softly brushed his fingers along your back, trying to make your body lay down. his voice cracked — not from emotion, but from something more raw. he sounded like he’d been screaming on stage for hours.

then came the part that always stunned you — even now

he didn’t roll off and light a cigarette he didn’t pull away like he used to in the early days

instead, Dave wrapped around you

one arm slid beneath your shoulders, pulling you close until your head rested on his damp chest. the other hand traced lazy circles over your thigh, grounding and soft, like he needed the feel of your skin under his palm just to breathe

his lips pressed into your hair

“I’ve got you” he murmured, almost too quietly to hear “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

your heart twisted at the words. you knew he didn’t say I love you out loud. not yet. maybe not ever. but that? that was his version

“I know” you whispered

you lay like that, warm and folded into him, your legs tangled and his cum slowly leaking between your thighs — messy and real and intimate

he shifted, just slightly, and slid his hand to your belly, rubbing gentle patterns over your skin like it soothed him, too.

“Still mine?” he asked roughly, not quite teasing

you smiled into his chest “Always.”

that earned a small, breathy laugh from him. almost shy. he tilted your chin up, and the kiss he gave you was all tongue and tenderness, slow and sleepy. the kind of kiss that made your bones melt

and then, low and gruff in your ear, he murmured:

“You’re fuckin’ perfect, you know that?”

you flushed, unsure if he knew how much that kind of praise meant coming from him. but he meant it. that was the thing. you could hear it in his voice

Dave held you until your breaths matched

until the world quieted.

until the sweat cooled between you and the sheets, and all that remained was the soft rhythm of his fingertips on your skin — that quiet, grounding aftercare he’d never believed he was capable of until you came into his life and proved him wrong.

“Go to sleep, baby” he whispered, kissing your temple again “I’ll be right here.”

and he was he always was, now

even when he didn’t know how to say the words

#cherrypopidol #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine #megadeth headcanons #megadeth x reader #megadeth smut #megadeth

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ruoyeming · 8 months ago

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Ghost City stroll <3

#drew this while reading a Warwick Johnson Cadwell artbook #and felt so insane about his work that I needed to make something #anyway ghost city ilyyy I wanna go there so bad #my art #tgcf #hualian #xie lian #hua cheng #heaven official's blessing #mxtx #tgcf fanart

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wereh0gz · 10 months ago

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Started replaying sonic frontiers and have been having a blast but also why is the switch version so fucked

#ramblings #the graphics......#i forgot just how bad they were. how did they fuck it up so bad for this version specifically #bc i KNOW the other versions don't look like that #it's baffling #sonic frontiers is my favorite 3ds game #i mean it's not that bad. there's worse looking games on the switch. probably #i am also playing on a switch lite #but still other games still look wonderful on my switch why is frontiers specifically Like That #sonic also feels really finicky to control sometimes but like that's a problem with most sonic games so. whatever #i might need to just adjust my settings or something #still. aside from that. been having fun :]#i needed to see sonic just interacting with his friends again #and running around the islands doing random stuff #it gets me thinking about what future games could be like. bc looking at sonic x shadow gens #it really feels like they're building upon frontiers' foundation. at least with how their making the main hub an open zone #makes me excited for when they make a new standalone game #i hope we get news for something like that soon. not rushing for them to pump out a game right after sonic x shadow gens but y'know #like an announcement that they're working on something. a teaser maybe #i wanna feel the same insanity i felt when frontiers was first teased basically #tho it might still be a bit too soon to ask for that #aghhhh i wanna know what comes next so baddddddd i wish i wasn't so impatient #wow i went completely off topic. anyway

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leriexoxo · 28 days ago

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Nowhere To Hide

Bestfriend! Hyunjin x Reader

Tags: mutual masturbation, porn, closet sex, rough sex, first time together, desperate thrusting, overstimulation, hand over mouth, biting, semi-public sex, stifled moans, creampie, aftershocks, dazed clinging, emotionally intense

Word count: 4.1k

Summary: you’re just his best friend; his open-minded, dangerously close, overly flirty best friend. so when hyunjin tells you he can’t watch porn unless someone else is in the room… you roll your eyes and let him do it. but you don’t expect to stay. you don’t expect to watch. and you definitely don’t expect to end up with his hand around your mouth, legs shaking, his cock deep inside you in a locked closet at a house party four days later.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Hyunjin had always been open with each other.

It was part of the reason your friendship worked — that weird, shameless kind of bond where nothing was off-limits. He could talk to you about anything. You could say things that would’ve made other people flinch, and he’d just laugh, head tipped back, telling you that your brain was his favorite place in the world.

There were no rules. Just you, and him, and the strange little rhythm you’d fallen into over the years. Late-night hangouts, casual sleepovers, the occasional too-long hug when one of you needed something unspoken. No lines ever crossed, but plenty blurred.

So when he asked you to come over that night — casual, chill, just to hang — you didn’t think twice.

You showed up in your usual post-shower state: oversized hoodie, bare legs, the kind of soft cotton underwear that felt like home. His place was warm, clean in a way that said he’d tried to impress you without saying it out loud.

He opened the door, hair messy, smile crooked. “You’re late.”

“You’re lucky I came at all.”

He stuck his tongue out. “You always come when I ask.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping in.

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the quiet intimacy of the night. But somehow, two episodes into whatever trashy dating show you’d landed on, something shifted.

“Do you mind,” Hyunjin said, reaching lazily for his iPad, “if I put something else on?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

You didn’t expect him to open his browser and pull up porn.

“Hyunjin—”

“Don’t freak out,” he said, like this was totally normal. “I’m not gonna jerk off. Just… I don’t know. I like having it on sometimes.”

You stared at him. “With me right here?”

“That’s the point.”

You blinked.

“I can’t enjoy it when I’m alone,” he said with a small shrug. “It’s not hot unless someone else is in the room. I’m not gonna do anything unless you want me to. I just… I don’t know. It feels less sad this way.”

You stared at him, mouth opening, then closing.

“Hyune,” you said slowly. “That’s not normal.”

He grinned, eyes bright with mischief. “You say that like I’m trying to be normal.”

Your instinct was to say no. To laugh it off. To tell him he was fucking insane and grab your shoes. But you didn’t.

Instead, you sighed, shaking your head, and muttered, “Fine. But you’re not allowed to make this weird.”

“I never make anything weird.”

“That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

He winked. “And yet… you’re still here.”

⸻

The video was loud. That was the first problem. The moans were high and breathy and clearly real — not the fake, over-the-top stuff that was easy to ignore.

The second problem was Hyunjin himself.

He didn’t just watch it. He felt it. Breathing in these slow, shallow hitches. Sinking back into the pillows like he was alone, even though you were right there.

You weren’t even watching the screen. You were watching him.

His mouth was slightly open. His chest rose and fell under the soft black tee he’d half-tucked into those stupid grey sweatpants — the ones you’d teased him about a thousand times for being too dangerous.

And then… he moved.

Just a shift of the hips at first. Then his hand — long fingers twitching — rested near his thigh. A rub. Absentminded at first. Then another. Slower. Firmer.

Your stomach dipped.

He groaned, soft and low. His head tilted back.

And that sound — fuck, that sound — sent a pulse straight between your legs.

You tried to ignore it. You tried so hard. But your body was already reacting before your brain could process what was happening. Your thighs pressed together. You adjusted your hoodie. You stopped breathing entirely when his eyes flicked toward you and then dropped — low, slow, hungry.

“You good?” he asked, voice hoarse.

You nodded too quickly. “Fine.”

He smiled — a little too knowingly — and exhaled. “Fuck, she sounds like you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“The girl. On the video.” His voice was dreamy, almost dazed. “She moans like you.”

You stared at him. “How would you even know that?”

He looked at you then, eyes dark and shining. “You think I’ve never heard you?”

Your skin went hot. “Hyunjin—”

“I wasn’t trying to. But you always leave your door cracked. And sometimes I’d just be passing by and then… you’d make this sound. Like you didn’t know how to stop yourself.”

You opened your mouth to say something — anything — but then he moaned again. This time because of you. He was hard now. Very visibly hard.

“God,” he whispered. “Why is this so much hotter with you here?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Your body was buzzing. Your underwear damp. And every inch of space between you suddenly felt razor-thin, unbearable.

“Touch yourself,” he said, almost breathless.

You shook your head, barely.

He leaned in, voice low. “Please.”

You swallowed. “Why?”

“Because I need it,” he said, groaning again as he pressed into his palm. “And I don’t want to be the only one.”

His eyes flicked to your legs.

“You’re turned on.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” His voice was firmer now. “I can see it. The way your thighs are clenched. The way you’re breathing.”

You looked away. He reached out, gently brushing your knee.

“Look at me.”

You did.

“I swear,” he said, “I’ll stop if you tell me to. But if you want this even a little… just stay.”

You exhaled. Shaky. Unsure. Wet.

And you stayed. Neither of you said anything for a long moment.

The porn still played softly in the background, but it was just noise now — the tension in the room had turned so dense it pressed in on your skin like heat, like breath.

Hyunjin dragged his bottom lip between his teeth and exhaled slowly through his nose. His hand hadn’t left his lap.

You were still watching him.

And he was watching you watching him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, voice hoarse.

Your chest tightened. “No.”

That was all he needed.

He shifted closer, just barely, and let out a sound — low, needy — as he rolled his hips against his palm. The motion was subtle, but it jolted through you like lightning. He rubbed again, slow, firm, a deliberate drag of pressure down the thick line in his sweatpants.

Your thighs clenched instinctively. You were soaked. You could feel it — the press of cotton against slick skin, the fluttering ache that had been growing steadily in your core from the moment he started moaning.

He looked drunk off it. His mouth was open, panting softly. His eyes flicked over your face, down your body, then back to your eyes.

“Touch yourself,” he said again, quieter this time. “I want to see what you look like when you’re needy.”

You let out a breath that trembled.

Your hand moved before your mind could stop it — sliding under the hem of your hoodie, then beneath the waistband of your underwear. Hyunjin’s eyes followed every inch.

“Oh my god” he whispered.

Your fingers dipped into yourself. Soaked.

Your breath hitched hard.

Hyunjin groaned — loud, ragged — and dropped his head back against the headboard, his hand now gripping the full length of his cock over his sweats. The bulge was thick and heavy, straining the fabric.

“Fuck, you’re touching yourself,” he rasped. “I can’t believe you’re actually…”

You moaned — quietly, shakily — and he snapped his eyes open.

“Say something,” he begged. “Tell me what you feel like.”

“I’m wet,” you whispered, eyes closing. “I’ve never been this wet just from watching someone.”

That made him gasp.

“God—fuck—” He shoved his sweatpants down just enough to free himself, and suddenly you couldn’t look away.

He was long, flushed red at the tip, already glistening with pre-cum.

You whimpered.

His eyes fluttered shut at the sound.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he muttered. “You know that? Just—so fucking pretty when you touch yourself like that. Show me more.”

You moved your fingers again, slow and deliberate, spreading the slickness and brushing over your clit. Your hips arched subtly into the motion, breath stuttering.

Hyunjin watched like a man starved.

“I want to taste you,” he said suddenly, voice broken. “Fuck—I want my face between your legs so bad.”

Your whole body shuddered.

He jerked himself once, twice — not fast, but hard. Focused. Like he was trying to memorize the way it felt while staring at you.

You moaned again, louder this time. Embarrassed at how fast your body was unraveling.

“I’ve thought about this before,” he confessed, still stroking. “Not like this exactly. But… you. Under me. Wet and panting. Saying my name.”

You bit your lip, fingers moving faster now. “I didn’t think we’d ever—”

“Me neither,” he whispered. “But now I don’t even want to stop.”

The air was charged, burning.

You were close. So close it was making your knees tremble.

Hyunjin leaned in again, his free hand brushing against your thigh as if asking for permission.

You didn’t stop him.

His lips were inches from your ear when he whispered, “Let me help.”

You paused. Swallowed.

He watched you — tense, hopeful, ruined — until you nodded.

And then… the shift happened.

Hyunjin slipped his hand down, fingers brushing yours under the band of your underwear. You gasped, but didn’t pull away. He cupped you gently, middle finger sliding through the mess you’d made.

“Oh my fucking god,” he whispered. “You’re soaked.”

Your head dropped against his shoulder.

“You made me like this,” you breathed.

“Yeah?” he said, voice shaking. “You like watching me stroke my cock for you?”

You whimpered again. “Yes—fuck, yes.”

He slid his finger in, slow and deep, while still stroking himself with the other hand. You cried out, biting down on your hoodie sleeve as he moved inside you, curling slightly.

“Come for me,” he said, lips against your temple. “Please. I want to see you fall apart.”

It didn’t take long.

Your body clenched tight, the pressure building sharp and sudden until it broke — heat flooding you from the inside out, your voice catching as you gasped and ground against his hand.

Hyunjin let out a desperate groan and came right after you, hot and heavy against his stomach, chest rising in ragged breaths as his hips jerked through the last few strokes.

You both collapsed sideways into the pillows, breathing hard, sweaty, trembling.

For a moment, it was quiet.

Then—

“That was…” you began, voice wrecked.

“I know.” He laughed, still panting. “I know.”

You turned your head to look at him. His hair was a mess. His lips were red. His eyes were soft now — not teasing, not smug. Just open.

“That didn’t feel casual,” you whispered.

His gaze dropped to your mouth.

“No,” he said. “It didn’t.”

You didn’t know what would come next.

⸻

The worst part wasn’t what happened between you.

It was the silence after.

The way everything between you and Hyunjin felt louder because no one was talking about it.

You’d spent the last three nights pretending that orgasm hadn’t happened. That your fingers hadn’t tangled with his. That he hadn’t whispered I want to taste you while stroking himself, eyes on your mouth.

You didn’t talk about it. You couldn’t.

But the tension between you? You may as well have been shouting.

He sat closer now. Looked longer. He didn’t tease like he used to — not playfully, not harmlessly. Now every glance had heat. Every brush of skin felt intentional.

So when Jisung shouted across the living room, “Let’s play hide and seek — losers get a punishment dare,” you already knew something was going to go wrong.

Because you and Hyunjin couldn’t be trusted anymore.

⸻

You didn’t even plan to hide in the closet.

You were laughing, breathless, the count ticking down — Ten! Nine! Eight! — and you darted around a corner in the hallway looking for literally anywhere to disappear.

The closet door was cracked open.

You pushed in and—

“Shit—!”

A hand reached out to yank you the rest of the way in.

Hyunjin.

He shoved the door closed behind you both, muffling your gasp, then exhaled hard against your ear.

You were chest to chest. Pressed flush to him. The closet was barely the size of a broom closet — coats brushing your cheeks, the smell of old cedar, the wood beneath your bare feet cool from the tile.

“Seriously?” you whispered, half-giggling. “You’re here?”

“You ran into me,” he hissed. “Be quiet—”

Footsteps passed in the hallway. The sound of someone shouting: “Not in the bathroom!”

You both stilled.

And then you started laughing.

Quiet, breathy little giggles that made your shoulders shake. His hands were on your hips now, steadying you, his face so close you could feel his mouth twitch into a smile.

“Shhh,” he whispered, amused. “You’re gonna get us caught.”

“It’s your fault,” you whispered back.

“Yeah?” His breath ghosted your cheek. “Pretty sure it’s yours.”

Your back hit the wall as you shifted to give him room. But there was no room. Nowhere to go.

His thigh brushed up between yours. Your knee bent just slightly.

And that’s when you felt it.

The slow, unmistakable press of something hard against your hip.

You froze.

Hyunjin did, too.

“Hyunjin—?” you whispered.

He didn’t answer right away. His breath had turned shallow, his forehead dropping forward slightly to rest against the wall beside your head.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I can’t help it.”

His voice was low. Strained. Honest.

You swallowed.

It didn’t feel like a joke. It didn’t even feel like a dare. It just… was. Real. Present. Pressed right up against you.

The memory of that night came rushing back — the way he gasped when you moaned, the wet sound of your bodies moving in sync, the look in his eyes when he touched you like it meant something.

And now you were here.

Too close. Too warm. Your short dress had ridden up when he pulled you in, and your bare legs were brushing his sweatpants with every shaky inhale.

You should’ve moved away.

You didn’t.

Instead, you whispered, “This is dangerous.”

He nodded. Barely. “I know.”

Your hands were on his chest, fingers curled into the soft fabric of his shirt. His hands still sat heavy on your hips. Neither of you were breathing quite right.

And then—you shifted.

Just the smallest movement. An unconscious roll of your hips as you tried to balance.

And Hyunjin let out the quietest, shattered groan.

Your stomach dropped.

“Don’t do that,” he whispered.

“Do what?” But your voice was thinner now.

“That.”

You did it again. Just to be sure. The press of your core against him was slow, experimental — your thin underwear the only barrier between your body and the thick, hard line of his cock beneath his sweats.

He whined.

Low, soft, desperate.

His forehead dropped to your shoulder. You felt him tremble.

“You can’t grind on me like that,” he breathed.

“You were already hard.”

“And now you’re already wet.”

The words punched the breath out of your lungs.

You didn’t say anything — couldn’t — and instead let yourself roll against him again, slowly this time, hips rocking once more into his.

His mouth dropped open. You felt it brush your skin.

“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he groaned.

The coats swayed faintly beside you as he gently pressed you back into the wall, his hands tightening at your waist, thumbs brushing under the edge of your dress.

You gasped quietly as he rocked up into you, the friction too good, too familiar.

“I think about it every night,” he whispered, like it hurt. “The way you sound when you come. How soft you were. How hot your hand felt over mine.”

You were burning.

Your body responded before your mind did — rocking again, your arms slipping up around his neck to muffle a soft, stuttering moan into his shoulder.

He cursed under his breath.

Then he stilled. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his.

“Tell me to stop,” he said.

You didn’t.

Instead, you leaned in — your lips brushing his, breath against breath, heart in your throat.

And that’s when the closet door creaked.

“Anyone in here?” someone called.

You and Hyunjin froze.

Your mouth hovered over his.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you dared.

The door didn’t open.

Footsteps passed.

And the second you were alone again, Hyunjin exhaled.

You were still catching your breath when you heard it.

The soft click of the inside lock.

Hyunjin had turned the tiny latch on the closet door — sealing you both inside.

Your eyes darted to his, wide, breathless, heart kicking.

“What are you doing—?”

But he was already shifting you, gentle but firm.

Turning you in the dark, pressing your front to the wall of the closet, your palms flat against the wood paneling, your chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths.

His voice came at your ear, low and wrecked. “I can’t pretend anymore.”

His hands slid up your thighs — slow, reverent, shaking slightly — fingers brushing the hem of your dress, pushing it higher until it was bunched around your hips.

You gasped when you felt it — the warm weight of his cock, thick and flushed, freed from his sweats and nestled right in the crease of your thighs. Hot, hard skin against the damp cotton of your panties.

“Hyunjin—” You tried to say something. Anything.

But then he rocked forward.

And your mind blanked.

The first thrust wasn’t deep, wasn’t precise — just a desperate press of his cock between your thighs, dragging the thick head right along your clothed pussy.

You whimpered.

Your knees nearly buckled.

His breath left him in a shaky hiss. “Holy fuck—”

You didn’t realize you were moving until you were rocking back against him — instinctive, helpless — meeting every slow rut of his hips with the arch of your spine.

The friction was perfect.

Each thrust of his cock between your thighs rubbed right against your clit through the soaked fabric. It felt filthy. Overwhelming. Like a fever dream you didn’t dare wake up from.

And then his mouth was on your neck.

Hot, open, wet kisses down your jaw, your pulse, his tongue tasting your skin like he’d wanted to for years. His hands grabbed your hips, greedy now, pulling you tighter against him with every roll of his body.

You were panting, trembling, moaning softly into the wall with every pass of his cock between your slick thighs.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, voice unraveling, “you feel so—shit—so soft.”

You turned your head, breath shallow, eyes finding his in the dark.

“Hyunjin,” you whispered.

His mouth crashed into yours before the word could fully leave you.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t careful.

It was desperate.

Tongue and teeth, lips parted, mouths gasping against each other like this kiss had been trapped between you for years. Like he was starving for it. Like you’d never survive it.

You grabbed at his hair. He groaned into your mouth.

His hand slid up your front, fingers curling under the fabric of your dress, and suddenly he was palming your breast — rough, hungry, his thumb brushing your nipple through the lace of your bra.

You arched into his hand.

He bit your lip.

You whined, trembling, your voice cracking. “I need you.”

He froze.

Your words hung in the air — too raw, too loud, too real.

Then he growled, deep in his chest.

And his hand moved.

Down your stomach. Past the waistband of your underwear. Two fingers slid through your soaked slit and came away dripping.

He hissed, whispering something under his breath you couldn’t catch.

Then he hooked his fingers under your thong — pulled it aside.

And you felt him.

The head of his cock, hot and heavy, slipping between your folds. Your knees nearly gave out.

“Are you sure?” he breathed. “Fuck—tell me.”

You didn’t hesitate.

“Yes. Please—”

He didn’t wait another second.

He gripped your hip, braced a hand on the wall beside your head, and with a single smooth thrust, sank into you.

You gasped — loud and broken.

He groaned like it hurt.

Like he’d been dreaming of this for too fucking long.

You could barely breathe.

He filled you so completely you felt split open. Every inch of him slid deep, hot and thick, your body clenching around him like it had been aching for this—like it knew him.

Hyunjin stayed still at first.

Forehead to your shoulder, panting, hand tight on your hip like he was trying to ground himself.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You feel like heaven.”

You whined — a low, raw sound — hips rolling back into him, your fingers scraping the wall for anything to hold on to.

That was all it took.

His restraint snapped.

His hips drew back.

And then he started fucking you.

It wasn’t slow anymore.

It wasn’t careful.

It was frantic, overwhelming, wet — the obscene slap of skin-on-skin muffled only slightly by the coats around you, your slick dripping down the inside of your thighs with each thrust.

You tried to be quiet. You really did.

But every time his cock drove into you, you couldn’t stop the moans — breathy and soft at first, then high and frantic as his pace picked up.

And when a louder gasp escaped your mouth—

His hand clamped over it.

Large, warm, shaking fingers curled across your lips, muffling the helpless sounds spilling from you as he pounded into you from behind.

You whimpered into his palm.

His voice broke right beside your ear. “I’m sorry, baby—I need you quiet—can’t let them hear—”

You nodded. Barely.

But your body was shaking. Your walls fluttering around him. And Hyunjin knew you were close.

So he got mean.

Rougher.

He slammed into you harder, his cock dragging across all the right spots, your thighs trembling from the pressure of each thrust — and the filthiest part? You were soaked. The squelch of your cunt around him was wet and loud and pornographic, and it only made him fuck you harder.

You bit down.

Hard.

Right into the base of his palm as his hand stayed tight over your mouth.

He groaned, bucking into you like it drove him insane.

“Shit—fuck, just like that—”

He lost rhythm for a second, stuttering into you, hand slipping from your mouth to your throat, thumb under your jaw to tilt your head back, mouth against your skin again.

Then he bit down.

His teeth sank into the soft curve of your shoulder as he buried himself deep, his moans muffled into your skin.

You swore you blacked out for a second.

You couldn’t tell which way was up anymore — just the overwhelming drag of his cock, the heat in your belly, the white-noise roar in your ears as your orgasm crept higher, hotter, inevitable.

“Fuck—Hyunjin—I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby—fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight—”

You came with a cry into his wrist, your whole body spasming.

Everything snapped — the pressure, the tension, the weeks of unsaid things between you, all of it boiling over in that moment as you fell apart on his cock.

He barely held it together.

You felt him twitch inside you, pace faltering, his voice falling to ragged, desperate whimpers.

“Fuckfuckfuck—oh my god, I’m gonna—can I—inside—?”

You nodded, dazed. “Yes—yes, please—”

One more thrust. Deep. Hot.

And he came with a bitten-off moan into your neck, his body jerking hard as he spilled into you — thick, hot spurts of cum painting your insides, his cock buried deep as he rode out every last pulse, twitching and trembling.

You slumped forward, boneless.

His arms caught you. Held you there.

Both of you breathing like you’d run miles. Sweaty. Shaking. Still joined, still stuffed full.

The closet spun in silence.

And when his hand finally fell from your mouth, you whispered — voice shot, lips swollen —

“…We can’t ever just be friends again, can we?”

And Hyunjin, still inside you, kissed your shoulder like it was a promise.

“No,” he said. “We’re so fucked.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: HIIIIIIIIII!!!! Breakfast is served (or lunch or dinner lol) 😂 personally i think this is the filthiest hyunjin fic i have written… right? I cant even remember lol! So i got that closet idea from this edit… saw it and my brain short-circuited 😭🫠❤️ And now we are here!

Give this a lot of love! Also update; i have officially started writing my first original novel 🥹 ahhhhh

Taglist: @malunar28replies @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeofftbr @itvenorica124 @slut4junho @deepblueocean97 @thequibbie @yaorzu-blog @imagine-all-the-imagines @just-bria @mischievousleeknow @ifyxu @melanctton @thelostprincessofasgard @binniebb @sillylittlecat1 @darkwitchoferie @m-325 @headfirstfortoro @imseungminsgf @ihrtlix @vernorica123 @hwangjoanna @swordswallower2000 @niki007 @yxna-bliss @firelordtsuki @justwonder113 @mbioooo0000 @sammhisphere @nebugalaxy @cutecucumberkimberly @chancloud8 @sunflwerstar @shxdowofdarkness @aeyla @annyeongffs @beppybeesnuggets @iamwritteninyourstars @crisle19 @stxysakura

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rafesgreasycurtainbangs · 3 months ago

Text

❛ YOU AND RAFE TAKE HONEY PACKETS BUT HE CAVES FIRST ❜

girlfriend¡reader . . . rafe cameron

“Okay, but you guys have to hear this,” Mia said, swirling her wine before taking a dramatic sip. “Last weekend, Aiden and I tried those aphrodisiac honeypacks—you know, the ones they’re always hyping up on TikTok? Holy shit, it was insane.”

You raised an eyebrow, setting your glass down on the table with a soft clink. “Insane how?” you asked, curiosity piqued. Beside you, Lila, who’d been scrolling her phone absentmindedly, perked up, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

Mia grinned, leaning forward like she was about to spill a state secret. “Okay, so you know those little packets you can get at sketchy gas stations or online? They’re like honey mixed with some herbal stuff—supposedly gets your blood pumping or whatever. We each took one, and I swear to God, within twenty minutes, we were clawing at each other like animals. I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s like every touch felt electric, and I couldn’t think about anything except jumping him.”

Lila burst out laughing, her voice bright and sharp. “Oh my God, that’s fucking hot. Did you plan it, or just wing it?”

“Totally spontaneous,” Mia said, her cheeks flushing slightly—not from embarrassment, but from the memory. “We barely made it to the bedroom. I’m telling you, it’s like someone turned the dial up to eleven on every nerve in my body.”

You shifted in your seat, the wicker creaking beneath you, a slow heat creeping up your neck as you pictured it. Rafe flashed into your mind—his broad shoulders, the cocky tilt of his smirk, the way his hands felt when they gripped your hips.

You’d been dating him long enough to know he’d be game for something like this, but the thought of him losing control? That was a whole different level of intriguing.

“Wait,” you said, cutting through their giggles. “So it’s not just hype? It actually works?”

“Works?” Mia echoed, incredulous. “Babe, I’m saying it’s dangerous. Aiden was begging me to touch him by the end of the night, and he’s usually the one playing it cool. You should try it with Rafe. Bet he’d lose his mind.”

Lila nodded enthusiastically, her eyes gleaming. “Oh, he totally would. Rafe’s got that whole ‘I’m in charge’ vibe, but I bet you could break him with this. Make it a game or something—see who caves first.”

You chewed your lip, the idea taking root like a seed in fertile soil. The thought of Rafe—your Rafe, all sharp edges and simmering intensity—reduced to a needy mess because of you? It sent a shiver down your spine, one that had nothing to do with the cooling evening air. “Okay,” you said slowly, a grin tugging at your lips. “I’m in. Next weekend.”

Mia clapped her hands together, delighted. “Yes! Report back. I need details.”

. . .

“Hey,” you said casually, tilting your head to look up at him. His blue eyes flicked down to meet yours, a faint smirk already playing on his lips like he knew you were up to something.

“What’s up, princess?” he drawled, his voice low and rough, the kind that always made your stomach flip.

You shifted, sitting up a little straighter, your knee brushing against his thigh. “So, Mia was telling me about this thing she tried with Aiden. Those aphrodisiac honeypacks—you heard of ‘em?”

Rafe’s smirk deepened, his brows lifting slightly. “Those horny honey things? Yeah, I’ve seen ‘em around. Why? You wanna get freaky?” He chuckled, but there was a spark in his eyes, a flicker of interest that told you he was already hooked.

“Maybe,” you teased, running your fingers lightly over his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his T-shirt. “But I was thinking we make it fun. Like a game. We each take one, no touching allowed, and the first one to cave loses. Winner gets bragging rights—or whatever else they want.”

He tilted his head, studying you with that predatory glint he got when he was intrigued. “You think you can outlast me, huh?” His voice dropped an octave, thick with challenge. “Baby, I’m made of steel. You’re gonna be begging me to touch you in ten minutes flat.”

You laughed, the sound light but edged with defiance. “Oh, please. You’re the one who can’t keep your hands off me half the time. I give it five minutes before you’re on your knees.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his smirk turning into something darker, hungrier. He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You’re on, sweetheart. Next weekend. But when I win, you’re gonna owe me big.”

The heat of his breath against your skin sent a thrill through you, but you pulled back, meeting his gaze with a wicked smile. “We’ll see about that.”

. . .

The following Saturday night, the air in Rafe’s bedroom was thick with anticipation. You sat cross-legged on his bed, the navy comforter rumpled beneath you, wearing nothing but one of his oversized T-shirts and a pair of lacy black panties. Rafe stood across the room, leaning against the dresser, shirtless in a pair of gray sweats that hung low on his hips. His chest was broad and tan, a faint sheen of sweat already glistening in the warm light.

On the nightstand sat two small golden packets, their shiny foil catching the glow of the lamp. You picked one up, turning it over in your hands, the weight of it surprisingly light for something that promised so much chaos. “Last chance to back out,” you said, smirking at him as you tore the corner open.

Rafe snorted, grabbing his own packet. “Not a chance. You’re going down, baby.” He ripped his open with his teeth, the gesture primal and a little too hot for your liking, and squeezed the thick, amber honey onto his tongue. You followed suit, the sweet, herbal taste coating your mouth, a faint warmth spreading down your throat as you swallowed.

For the first few minutes, it was all bravado. Rafe paced the room like a caged animal, cracking his knuckles, his smirk intact. “Feeling anything yet?” he asked, voice cocky as he flexed his arms, the muscles rippling under his skin.

You shrugged, playing it cool even as a subtle heat began to bloom in your chest. “Nope. You?”

He shook his head, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a slight flush creeping up his neck. “Nah.”

Ten minutes in, the air shifted. The warmth in your body intensified, sinking lower, pooling between your thighs. Your skin prickled, every brush of the T-shirt against your nipples sending a jolt through you. You shifted on the bed, pressing your legs together, trying to ignore the growing ache.

Across the room, Rafe stopped pacing. His breathing was heavier now, his chest rising and falling faster. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands sticking to his forehead, and when his eyes met yours, they were dark—pupils blown wide, a storm brewing behind them.

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost to himself. He leaned back against the dresser, gripping the edge so hard his knuckles whitened. “This shit’s no joke.”

You bit your lip, the sight of him unraveling doing dangerous things to you. “What’s wrong, Rafe? Cracking already?” Your voice was teasing, but it came out breathier than you intended, the need starting to seep through your composure.

He laughed, but it was strained, jagged. “You wish. I could bend you over right now and still win this.” But his hands stayed glued to the dresser, and his hips shifted—just a fraction, enough to tell you he was fighting the same war you were.

Fifteen minutes, and the room felt like a furnace. Your pulse hammered in your ears, your body screaming for contact. The air smelled of him—sweat and musk and that damn cologne—and it was driving you insane. You curled your fingers into the comforter, nails digging in as you watched Rafe.

He was a mess now, his sweats tented embarrassingly, his jaw clenched so tight you thought it might crack. His eyes raked over you, lingering on the way the T-shirt rode up your thighs, and he groaned—a low, guttural sound that hit you like a freight train.

“Goddamn it, baby,” he rasped, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re killing me. Just—fuck—just let me touch you. Please.”

You smirked, though it took everything in you to hold it together. “That sounds like caving, Rafe.”

He growled, stepping forward, then stopping himself, fists balled at his sides. “You’re such a fucking tease,” he panted, his voice raw, desperate. “Look at you, sitting there all smug. I bet you’re soaked, aren’t you? Bet you’re dying for it just as bad.”

He wasn’t wrong. Your thighs trembled, slickness pooling in your panties, but you weren’t about to admit it. “Guess you’ll never know unless you lose,” you shot back, voice shaking but defiant.

Twenty minutes, and Rafe snapped—or tried to. He crossed the room in two strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands hovering an inch from your thighs. “Fuck it,” he breathed, his voice wrecked. “I lose. I fucking lose, okay? Just—please, baby, I need you. I’m going crazy here.”

You tilted your head, savoring the power, the way he looked up at you like a man unhinged. “Not yet,” you said, voice low and deliberate, your hand reaching out to graze his cheek—just a featherlight touch, enough to make him shudder. “You can wait a little longer.”

His eyes widened, a mix of shock and pure torment flashing across his face. “You’re kidding,” he choked out, his hands twitching, aching to close the distance. “Baby, I’m dying here. You can’t do this to me.”

“Oh, I can,” you replied, leaning back on your elbows, letting the T-shirt ride up higher, exposing more of your thighs, the edge of your panties just visible. His gaze dropped, and he let out a strangled sound, his whole body tensing like a coiled spring. “You said you’re made of steel, right? Prove it.”

Twenty-five minutes, and Rafe was a wreck. He’d slumped back onto his heels, hands dragging through his hair, sweat dripping down his chest. His cock strained against his sweats, a dark spot forming where he was leaking, and his breathing was so ragged it sounded like he’d run a marathon. “You’re evil,” he muttered, voice hoarse, his eyes locked on you with a mix of reverence and desperation. “Fucking evil, you know that?”

You shifted again, letting one leg fall open slightly, giving him a glimpse that made his jaw drop. “Maybe,” you said, smirking. “But you love it.”

Thirty minutes, and he was begging—really begging. “Please, baby,” he whispered, crawling closer, his hands trembling as they hovered over your knees. “I can’t—I can’t do this anymore. I’ll do anything you want, just let me touch you. I’m fucking losing it.”

You held his gaze, letting the tension stretch one agonizing second longer, then nodded. “Okay,” you said softly, victorious. “You lose.”

. . .

His mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking hard while his other hand kneaded the opposite side. The sensation—amplified by the honey packets still coursing through you—had you arching into him, a sharp cry escaping your lips as your nails dug into his scalp.

“Rafe—slow down,” you gasped, half-laughing, but he shook his head, his teeth grazing your skin as he moved lower, kissing and biting a frantic path down your stomach.

“No chance,” he growled, hooking his fingers into your panties and dragging them down your legs in one swift motion. He paused then, just for a second, staring at you—spread out, glistening, trembling—and the look in his eyes was feral, reverent, like he couldn’t believe you were real. “You’re so fucking wet,” he murmured, almost to himself, before diving in.

His mouth was relentless, tongue plunging into you, lapping up every drop like he’d been starved for it. You screamed, hips bucking, but he pinned you down with an arm across your waist, his other hand spreading you wider for him. He sucked at your clit, hard and fast, then slow and teasing, every movement driving you higher, the aphrodisiac making it all too much, too good.

Your hands twisted in his hair, pulling hard, and he moaned against you, the vibration sending you spiraling.

“Rafe—oh God—I’m gonna—” You couldn’t finish the sentence before it hit, a blinding orgasm that had you shaking, clenching around nothing as he kept going, drawing it out until you were whimpering, oversensitive and boneless.

He pulled back, lips shiny, chest heaving, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning like a man who’d just won the lottery. “You taste so fucking good,” he said, voice rough as he shoved his sweats down, freeing his cock—red, leaking, impossibly hard. He climbed onto the bed, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your stomach with ease, pulling you up onto your knees.

“Been thinking about this for thirty fucking minutes,” he rasped, lining himself up and thrusting in deep in one brutal stroke. You cried out, the stretch overwhelming, perfect, your walls fluttering around him as he set a punishing pace. His hands gripped your hips so hard you knew you’d bruise, but you didn’t care—every slap of his skin against yours, every grunt and curse spilling from his lips, was worth it.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, one hand sliding up your back to fist in your hair, pulling your head back as he pounded into you. “So perfect—shit, I’m not gonna last.”

“Don’t,” you managed, pushing back against him, meeting every thrust. “Come for me, Rafe.”

He did—hard—his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep, spilling inside you with a broken moan, his fingers digging into your skin. The feel of him, hot and pulsing, tipped you over again, a second wave crashing through you as you clenched around him, milking him dry.

He collapsed beside you, both of you slick with sweat, breathing like you’d run a race. His arm snaked around you, pulling you close, and he pressed a lazy kiss to your temple. “You’re a fucking sadist,” he muttered, but there was a grin in his voice. “Making me wait like that.”

You laughed, breathless, nuzzling into his chest. “Worth it, though, right?” “Fuck yeah,” he said, already sounding half-ready for round two. “But next time, I’m winning.”

𓂅 notes ―

return home ⸝⸝

©RAFESGREASYCURTAINBANGS ꪆৎ est. 2025

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cathnospam · 9 months ago

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Bakugo makes you laugh, A LOT and it drives him insane.

“It was not that damn funny.”

You try to conceal the snickers from your mouth, but fail horribly. All he did was mutter something about Mineta being a punk ass and it had you giggly.

At first he used to take offense by it, maybe you were laughing AT him and not what he says, almost like mocking him, that wasn’t until Deku quickly explained in passing that you laugh very easily.

But you don’t laugh this damn much with anybody else but him. At this point he thought you had a similar quirk to Ms. Joke, and he nicknamed you Giggles.

You both were studying in the library like you both usually do during exam week, and Bakugo noticed you haven’t been Miss. Cackle the past few days. Not even a smile actually and you’d think it would have been some relief for him from hearing your laugh obxonious laugh, but he’s actually more annoyed.

He looks up from his book and glances at you across the table, you’re typing away, with a less that neutral look on your face. Lips somehow forming a pout and eyes looking droopy. He scoffs going back to his work, but it was an itch he needed to scratch with you..?

“Who pissed in your breakfast.”

“What?”

“You been looking like a sad lost puppy all week what the hell is your problem.”

The corner of your lips cracked upwards a bit, almost as if you were fighting to smile, but instead you shrug, “‘Nothing you needa worry about. Why.”

It was almost concerning how calm you sounded. Your voice was more tame that you didn’t even sound recognizable which make Bakugo crease his brows, “You suck at lying. Is it, because of that shitty boyfriend you have pissed you off.”

He was referring to Shindo, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but he was a guy you got close with after meeting him a few years ago, but Bakugo was half right he was part of the problem.

You had a small crush on Shindo , but overheard him tell his classmates how he isn’t into you like that mainly because you’re not his type and how much he can’t stand how loud you talk/laugh sometimes.

It hurt hearing it, when he found out you heard he tried apologizing but you didn’t wanna hear it, so since then you’ve turn self conscious about speaking and laughing too loudly for the past week to avoid anymore issues that you have caused with people.

After slowly explaining to the Blonde he rolled his eyes, “You’re ganna let the walking vibrator dictate your life too? So stupid.”

“You hate my laugh too. What does it matter.”

Bakugo stayed silent for a moment while you went back to work. Thinking how could he word what he wants to say without sounding like an idiot, “I never said that, besides you never stopped even when I did tell you your laugh was annoying. If you want to cackle like a hyena who gives a fuck—“

You break into a snicker but end up covering it with your hand. He cracks a proud smirk, he almost forgot what you looked like with a smile, “I don’t wanna be loud. Just can’t help it.”

“We know.”

You giggle at his deadpanned voice, it really wasn’t your fault, you’re just so easy to please and Bakugo knows that, “Giggly ass, and I seen you almost laugh when Denki tripped at the lecture today.”

“Becauuseee he is always so dramatic when he falls.” You whined into a chuckle, sharing a small one with him.

It was a start of many more shared laughs after studying, Katsuki even tried to be just a LITTLE bit more funnier than usual when walking back to the dorms. When you finally cracked a real loud one out he felt himself grinning at you.

“Katsuki Alexander Bakugo are you smiling?”

“Don’t you EVER say my full name like that again got dammit I will blow you the hell UP!”

You almost fall to your knees of how funny his reaction was to you, it felt so good to smile again. You missed it, and so did everybody else the next day apparently.

Mina and some others thought you were depressed, Deku assumed you were sick, Denki outwardly blamed Bakugo which got him smacked, and IIda actually missed your loud noises as well.

Your classmates enjoyed your presence more than you thought they did.

But Bakugo missed it the most.

Your laughs drives him insane, because he loves to hear them.

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rafessecret · 4 months ago

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What about step!bro!rafes friends talking about his step!sister in a very explicit way and step!sister walks in and step!bro rafe makes her sit on his lap and has his hand moving very high up on her thigh and his friends are just watching

⋆˚࿔ step¡sister reader && rafe cameron

SAY GOODNIGHT TO MY FRIENDS.

The air in the room was thick with cologne, whisky, and something else—something darker. The low murmur of voices, the occasional clink of ice against glass, the lazy sound of Rafe chuckling under his breath—it all blended together into a space that felt hazy, heavy, dangerous.

Topper let out a low breath, shaking his head, his voice tinged with something between disbelief and fascination. ❝Man, it’s fucked. You’re fucked. Your own stepsister? And she just—what? Let's you? ❞

Kelce scoffed, shifting uncomfortably, but his eyes gleamed with something dark. ❝Let’s be real. She isn’t just letting him. You’ve seen her, man. She’s built for it. All soft and sweet, prancing around the house in those little skirts, acting like she doesn’t have a clue. Like she isn’t begging ’for it. ❞ He let out a slow chuckle, shaking his head. ❝Swear to God, Rafe, she’s the kind of girl that doesn’t even need to know what she’s doing to drive a man insane.❞

Rafe just grinned, stretching out lazily, like he hadn’t already thought about this a thousand times over. ❝She doesn’t even realise,❞ he murmured, tilting his head like he was indulging in a fond memory. ❝Doesn’t get why I always want to touch her, always want to spread those pretty thighs open. Have you ever seen a girl cry when she comes? Fuckin’ sob for it? She gets all wet and shaky, like she can’t handle it, but then she’s grinding down, chasing it. ❞ He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. ❝Shit, man. You should hear the noises she makes when I stuff her full. Little gasps, like she’s struggling to take it—like she knows she shouldn’t.❞

Kelce cursed under his breath, shifting where he sat. ❝Fuck, bro. What’s she like when you really wreck her? ❞

Rafe smirked, biting his lip, eyes dark with something possessive. ❝You ever fuck a girl so dumb she can’t even speak? Just little whimpers, eyes all glossy, like she’s ruined for anything else? ❞ His fingers tapped lazily against his thigh. ❝She sucks my fingers just to keep quiet. Like she knows she shouldn’t be moaning my name like that. Fuckin’ clampsaround me like she’s trying to keep me inside. ❞ He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. ❝And the way she looks afterwards? All fucked out, all mine? Man, I don’t even think she gets how dirty she is. ❞

You hadn’t been paying attention at first, padding barefoot through the hallway, the sleeves of Rafe’s old t-shirt hanging long past your wrists, your body warm from sleep. You just wanted to find him. You hadn’t even thought about whether he’d have company, not when he’d spent all of dinner teasing you under the table, slipping his hand onto your thigh just to watch you squirm. But then, just before you pushed open the door, you heard them.

❝—so fuckin’ tight, huh?❞ Kelce laughs, voice dripping with disbelief.

❝Nah, man, you don’t get it.❞ Rafe’s voice was low and drawling, each word rolling slow and smug from his lips. ❝She cries when I put it in. Every single time. Like a good girl.❞

You froze.

Kelce made a strained noise, somewhere between disbelief and something much filthier, and Rafe only chuckled. ❝Yeah, yeah, I know. I thought it was fucked up at first too, but she’s just so sweet about it, man. Always getting all wet just from me playing with her. Can’t help myself. ❞

Your stomach plummeted. A silence stretched. Heavy. Loaded. Like they didn’t quite know what to say, like maybe they should speak up, but maybe they didn’t want to.

And then Topper, voice rough and barely there, muttered, ❝You’re saying she lets you do whatever you want?❞

Rafe scoffed. Amused. ❝Let me? Bro, she fucking needs it. I get her worked up, and she’s a mess. It’s adorable. She looks so guilty about it too, but the second I start touching her, she’s mine. I swear, I could get her to do anything.❞

Heat rushed to your face, humiliation prickling in your chest. They were talking about you, talking about what Rafe did to you, laughing about it like it was some kind of joke. But before you could run, before you could even process it, Rafe’s head turned toward the doorway. He saw you.

And he smirked.

❝Speak of the fuckin’ devil,❞ he drawled, and just like that, three pairs of eyes snapped toward you.

For a second, everything was silent. You felt it, the way their gazes drifted, the way they took you in—bare legs, soft thighs, the hem of Rafe’s t-shirt barely skimming the tops of your panties. The way your skin still had that post-sleep glow, a little too flushed, a little too warm, a little too wrecked from how Rafe had kept you up last night.

Kelce was the first to swallow hard, like he had to physically force himself to hold his tongue. Topper shifted, jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek, but he didn’t look away.

Rafe, lounging back with a whisky in his hand like he owned the room, crooned, ❝C’mere, baby.❞ And before you could think, before you could process what a terrible fucking idea it was, you obeyed.

Rafe pulled you straight onto his lap the second you got close, arms winding around your waist, possessive, like he was staking his claim. You went rigid, barely breathing, hyperaware of the way his friends were still watching—watching his hands drift beneath the hem of your borrowed shirt, watching the way he spread his thighs beneath you, making sure you were settled perfectly between them.

Kelce swore under his breath, and Rafe chuckled, gaze flicking between his friends. ❝What? Thought I was making it up? ❞ You squirmed, breath hitching as Rafe’s fingers dragged higher, too high, teasing the band of your panties.

Topper exhaled sharply, the kind of sound someone makes when they know they should look away but can’t. Kelce wasn’t even pretending not to stare anymore, his fingers curling into his knee like he was holding back something filthy.

Rafe’s hand flexed over your thigh. ❝You shy, baby? You weren’t shy last night.❞ Heat rushed through you, mortification curling hot and heavy in your gut. Your lips trembled, but Rafe tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. ❝Don’t you, baby?❞

You swallowed, and when Rafe raised a brow, you nodded. Topper cursed, running a hand through his hair, but he still didn’t look away. Kelce had his hand over his mouth now, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, like he wasn’t sure if he was jealous of Rafe or of you.

And then, slowly, deliberately, Rafe kissed you. Not soft. Not innocent. Not like a brother should kiss his sweet little stepsister.

He devoured you, lips sliding over yours with an obscene amount of hunger, tongue pushing into your mouth, tasting you, making sure his friends saw exactly how you melted for him, how you didn’t even try to resist. Kelce shifted, jaw tight. Topper exhaled sharply, almost like he was in pain.

And Rafe?

Rafe just grinned against your mouth, breaking the kiss with a lazy, smug, victorious smirk. ❝Yeah, I think they get it now.❞ His fingers skimmed between your thighs, teasing.

❝Go on, baby. Say goodnight to my friends.❞ Your voice barely came out. ❝…Goodnight.❞

Kelce cleared his throat.

Topper finally stood. Rafe just chuckled, already dragging his fingers beneath your panties, whispering, ❝That’s my girl. Letting me show you off like that. ❞

Then the door slammed, leaving you alone with him. And before you could catch your breath, he was already ruining you again.

── ⋆ 𝐲𝐚𝐩 : ohhh, anon, you filthy thing thank you for this idea—i had way too much fun with it! sorry it got a little long, but you know i had to do it justice 😌 rafe is such a smug, possessive perv, and you?? you’re just his sweet little thing, letting him have his way.

── ⋆ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 : @scne-vampire

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kittsuneriyu · 2 months ago

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For a while I really wanted to make my own designs for a "role swap" AU.

The idea is that characters change roles, not in between, they change sides but still have their own unique quirks to hunt or survive.

007n7 basically goes insane after losing both Noli and c00lkidd, turning back into his old hacker persona, he decides to make his sorrow into everyone's problem. 007n7's actions are way more destructive and reckless, with nothing else to lose, why should he fear getting hurt or punished? This mentality is what pushes him further into keep living to make hell break lose.

Elliot is still a worker on Builder Brother's Pizza's, the best as always. But sometimes you never felt like making some jerk pay for his actions? That's Elliot's mindset, using his freetime to hunt down anyone that dared to mistreat him or other employees. Having a twisted kind of satisfaction on making "justice" with his own hands. Of course, he would never let it affect the Pizzaria's service.

Chance is a thrill seeker, to achive it he always took the most risky choices. It lead him into involving himself with some shady people. Now working as some hitman, Chance uses this title to coerce his targets into gambling with him in change of their mercy. But somehow Chance always wins either way.

The rest of the survivors aren't as elaborated as those three.

Noob is just some generic killer, the kind that looks like an average person but later shows themselves as some maniac.

Guest 1337 as stated on the drawing works like Fliqpy, genuinely feeling guilty for hurting someone, his flight or fight reaction really blinds him when something triggers him.

Two Time achived a very high connection with the spawn after a bunch of sacrifice's. One life in change of a extra one, this allows them to insta-heal a deadly injury an keep going, of course it doesn't comes without consequences. Each scar and rebirth disfigure's Two Time's form further and further.

Builderman alongside Telamon started an iron fist moderation, punishing and banning anyone that broke rules or defied their ideals.

Builderman didn't changed much design wise, glasses to only focus on their ideals, headsets to not hear their pleas or opinions and a hardhat to protection of course.

Telamon never gave up on his hatred, some still spilled over his creation but most of it still with him.

Dusekkar never agreed with this nonsense, and the two Admins didn't took it lightly, now Duse doesn't mind that much, afterall he doesn't have a thinkng mind at all anymore.

Taph would do anything for builderman, so they hopped along with the two Admin's, Taph happened to mess up a few times but now that they got the message they're not going to fail Builderman anymore.

And of course we have our survivors.

"Poor kidd there's something about us people never really liked." Not sure about what happened to c00lkidd for him to disappear. Up to you I guess.

1x a vessel for the admin's experiment, nothing but that. And when falling purposeless they felt anger, a powerful need for revenge. 1x and 2x never happened to become sepparated entities.

John Doe a mere moderator, only wanting to ensure that robloxia's problems were solved, too good for his own sake. This was his ruin.

Noli since the start aspired that one day he would reach out the starts, but now that he has them in hands theres no one left to share their glimmer with.

Guest 666 was just some rebel, a trouble maker as people say. Unable to properly speak without an account, but also unnable to be properly punished. Not sure how his relation with Noob could go.

Azure was, alongside his partner, one out of the most faithful ones of their cult. This feat led him and Two Time into a huge sacrificial rabbit hole. After being killed Azure turned his back to anything related to spawn or cults in general.

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sacr1ficialang3l · 4 months ago

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older!dean headcanons˚୨୧⋆｡

OLDER!DEAN WINCHESTER X YOUNGER!READER (read here)

WARNINGS: mentions of/implied smut (MDNI). age gap.

NOTES: He is back! My psych final is tomorrow and i am going insane, so this is shorter than usual. You have all been so sweet and supportive, and I just wanted to give you a little something as a thank you while I study. I love you all, thanks for the kind words. As always, English is not my first language. Enjoy<3

˚୨୧⋆｡ After months of resisting you and denying his feelings, he is the sweetest man ever when you two get together. He adores you, and he makes sure to show you. He spoils you rotten, lets you get away with almost anything, and he always needs to have a hand on you.

˚୨୧⋆｡ He is protective!!! Like, very protective. He always keeps an eye on you during hunts, and makes sure to kill any evil motherfucker before they can even think of putting their hands on you. And when you do get hurt, you think it pains him more than it does you. He patches you up with gentle touches he didn’t think his blood-stained hands were capable of. He looks at you with sad, deep eyes as he kisses over the wound, and then he doesn’t even let you get up from bed, even if the injury is as tiny as a paper cut.

˚୨୧⋆｡ After every case, he loves, or more like needs to cradle you against his chest and hold you close. He wraps his huge arms around you and presses you to his side, or on top of him, and he just buries his face on your hair and breathes in. He tells you it is to calm you down after hunts, to make you feel safe. But you think it is more about him. Like he needs to remind himself that you’re okay. That you’re there next to him, and that you’re not going anywhere.

˚୨୧⋆｡ You love to annoy him, it is your favorite hobby. Play with his hair while he and Sam research in the library, brushing it right in front of his eyes while he tries to read. You love to sit in a barstool in the garage while he works on Baby and talk his ear off when he has no way to escape (not that he would). You force him to watch rom-coms and chick-flicks that he pretends to hate, but you catch him smiling to himself a few times. You poke him, and bite him, and jump on him all the time, and he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

˚୨୧⋆｡ You have a habit of sinking your teeth into his biceps any chance you get. There are always teeth marks on his flesh that he wears with pride. (There are always hickies on your thighs and collarbones to match, of course.)

˚୨୧⋆｡ He claims not to be the jealous type. “I'm too old for things like that, sweetheart.” But you knew he was. He didn’t mind when people stared at you when you walked into a bar or around a small town, always that his arm was around your shoulders or your hand was on his. He is proud that such a pretty girl chose him. But the moment some frat boy tries to approach you at a bar when you are alone, he feels his blood boil. He watches from far away for a few seconds, trying to keep his cool, but he loses it when the guy decides to brush your hair behind your ear. He quickly walks across the bar until he is right behind you, pulling you against his chest and glaring at the dude over the top of your head. The boy is gone in less than a second.

˚୨୧⋆｡ You try to show your love for him in every way you can. Dean was confident and strong, but it sometimes felt like he doubted your feelings for him, like his brain was trying to convince him that you deserved better and that you would get tired of being with some old guy eventually. So, you shower him in love. You learn how to bake pies just for him, making him a new one every week. You wash his hair in the shower, massaging his scalp to help him relax. You get him naked in bed and go on a journey of kissing every scar you can find. You press your lips over the small ones, run your tongue over the long and raised ones. And of course you make sure to tell him how much you love him. You murmur soft i love you’s against his lips. You remind him every day of how beautiful he is, how good he is. You whisper in his ear about how hot he is, how he makes you lose your mind and how no one could ever compare to him.

˚୨୧⋆｡ Dean liked being rough with you in bed. He loved manhandling you, leaving purple fingertips marks on your hips, pulling your hair. He was careful at first, too scared to hurt you. But you wanted him to, you begged him to make it hurt.

˚୨୧⋆｡ Because you loved it when it hurt a little. When he sank his teeth into the flesh of your thighs, when your knees ended up bruised from kneeling on the floor for too long, when you could still feel him days after. You love the marks that he leaves, a living reminder of his touch on your body. It made you feel complete, it made you feel his.

˚୨୧⋆｡ Dean tried to go slow with you at first, thinking that you might be too inexperienced for everything he wanted to do to you. But he didn’t know that you were just as much or even freakier than him.

˚୨୧⋆｡ Your favorite thing to do was, when Dean and you were alone in the Impala for a long drive, to rest your head in his lap. You lay across the front seat casually, looking up at him with innocent eyes when he sends you a warning look. You start by “accidentally” rubbing your cheek against his crotch, loving the way the scratchy fabric of his jeans felt against your skin. You would tease him until he was hard and his breath was ragged, and then you would take him in your mouth. You order him to keep driving as you suck him off slowly. You drag it out, edge him until he is desperate and gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. And when he finally comes, you swallow it all like a good girl, moaning in satisfaction, enjoying the way his cum coats your tongue. It makes him groan every time, nostrils flared with the need to fuck you. Sometimes you keep going, keep suckling on him until he is whining in oversensitivity and has to pull you away by your hair.

˚୨୧⋆｡ In return, Dean gives you pleasure every time he can. He can eat your pussy for hours on end, in the kitchen counter, or the Impala, or in a lonely classroom when you have to infiltrate a school for a case. He will fuck you on his bed, or the floor, or against the wall. He just loves to make his girl feel good, see you shaking with pleasure, begging him to stop and to keep going at the same time. He loves when you tell him that he’s the best you have ever had, and the best you will have. He loves when you scream his name and your thighs close around his head because of the overwhelming sensations. He loves to make you cry with pleasure.

˚୨୧⋆｡ But after, he is the sweetest guy ever. He takes aftercare very seriously, murmuring reassuring words against your skin and softly kissing every bruise and bite mark. He reminds you of how much he loves you, of how much you matter to him.

“I don’t know what I would do without you, baby. You keep me sane.”

“You’re such a good girl, my beautiful princess.”

“I will take care of you forever. Nothing will ever hurt you while I'm here.”

“I love you.”

NOTES: wish me luck on my final! I will be back after I'm finally free.

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

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beauchied · 5 months ago

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his (favorite) cheerleader

synopsis: cheerleading practice seems to affect seungcheol a lot more than you expected.

genre: smut

pairing: seungcheol x cheerleader!reader

wc: 737

warnings: rough sex! clearly i have a kink.. creampie, unprotected sex (please do NOT do this! use protection always) overprotective cheol, praise, scratching 😝, BABE THIS ISNT PROOFREAD ☺️ none of my works are tbh. i think thats all? please lmk if there are more!

authors note: hiii im baackkk!! this was supposed to be a celebratory fic for from behind but unfortunately i got quite occupied with my assignments (ack?) and didn’t get to ginish but u can read this as a standalone haha also my requests are open! please request SOMETHING im in need of ideas.. ok bye enjoy

nervous.

thats how you made seungcheol feel.

honestly, he would have never felt this way if he had stopped you from wearing the skimpy skirt for cheerleading practice. you asked him permission before choosing to wear it for the day because one: you would hate to make him feel like you’re dressing like a slut for everyone to see and two: the girls in your crew are bringing their boyfriends.

you would never admit it, but the girls in your squad have terrible taste for men. all of them are either desperate for a quick fuck with anyone but their girlfriends, or theyre in denial and swear to like women but seem to enjoy having drinks with your boyfriend instead.

but seungcheol didn’t hold you back. he swore it was okay and that you looked amazing in the skirt. he explained that he was going to be right beside you the entire time and that things were going to be alright. because he was there.

he was concerned that the boys would be very much eyeing you for a minute too long, or your name would be the name they’d be chanting for the entire game rather than their girlfriend’s.

he was wrong.

he was the person he was worried about.

the way the skirt almost barely covered your ass, the way your hair stuck to your forehead sticky with sweat, how your chest heaved whenever you finished a routine; he felt like he was going absolutely insane.

regardless of the fact he promised you he’d behave, he wasn’t doing a good job of fulfilling it. he could feel his cock slowly growing in his pants and he was not trying to hide it.

“seungcheol-ah, if you’re in need of relief, we’d really appreciate it if you could do it somewhere else and not on the freshly cleaned bleachers.” irene’s boyfriend lightly elbowed seungcheol,

cheol shot him a glare before his eyes slowly rested on you again. you were hot. if male ovulation was a thing, cheol was the epitome of it. all he heard was ringing and inaudible chatter as his attention was focused on you. his eyes were in the shape of hearts as he watched you perform.

he couldn't wait to go home. he just knew what he’d do to you as soon as you step foot into your house.

—

“haa~ cheol!” if he had asked you to count how many times you’ve come tonight, you wouldn’t be able to answer him. your cum had made a creamy white ring around his cock, slowly growing thicker and thicker as his thrusts began to pick up rhythm faster than the one before.

your voice began to strain, sweat started to trickle down the back of your neck, your hips were burning red as seungcheol showed no mercy at all. it was as if his dick had a mind of its own. his tip kisses your g-spot, making you arch from the bed as cheol’s hand pushed you down.

“you were so fucking pretty out there. did you know that? i was worried the boys would be a fucking idiot around you— fuck.” he threw his head back in a moan. “but it turns out, i was the one going insane.”

his lips traveled to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses beside the bruises he had made earlier. his thumb rubbed your clit, causing you to whine controllably as your gripped onto his shoulders. “pleaaase, let me cum!”

“yeah? my baby wants to cum?” seungcheol rapidly thrusted into you—if that was even possible—even more, making you slip out incoherent words as your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“yes! yes! yes! please let me cum please!” your nails clawed his back, leaving dark red marks as he winces in pain.

“fuck, cum with me okay?” you nodded in agreement, not caring about the neighbours who were probably wide awake, or the open windows that seungcheol didn’t bother to shut, or your cheerleading outfit that you definitely needed the following day.

“you can cum, beautiful.” he painted your walls with white ribbons as you breathed heavily—cumming right after him. you came so hard that you saw stars. as soon as you finally caught your breath, seungcheol was already rubbing you with a warm cloth, cleaning up his mess.

“you’re so responsible, you know?”

“mhm, i am. just not when you’re at cheerleading practice.” you giggle.

“you should come more often.”

#🍀 cali’s works . . .#💬 seventeen . . .#kpop smut #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol #seungcheol fanfics #seungcheol x you #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol smut #seungcheol imagines #seventeen #seventeen seungcheol #svt seungcheol #svt #seungcheol fanfic #scoups x reader #scoups smut #scoups

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chrollohearttags · 5 months ago

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free use with roommate!eren

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📝: black!fem reader, free use, noncon, dub-con, fourth wall break (you’ll see lmao), sonmophilia, squirting, heavy breeding +pregnancy mentions, degradation, calls reader bitch and slut, mentions of anal, slight aftercare

wc: 1.9K

if y’all want me to continue this, lmk. It may become a series.

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roommate!eren truly was, by all definitions, your best friend. practically attached at the hip and always hanging out..the two of you first crossed paths when he placed an ad online, looking for someone to split the rent with and upon meeting you, the choice was easy. roommate!eren, who worked in IT and mostly remote, spent most of his time in the space you two shared so it was always spotless when you got home. You’d often find him standing over the stove, making something delicious so that you never had to worry about going to some shitty fast food place…honestly feeling more like a boyfriend with how spoiled he had you. “How was your day, gorgeous? Here, come talk to me, I want to hear all about it.” even allowing you to rest your sore feet on his lap as he massaged them. it never really dawned on you at first but as time went on, roommate!eren slowly became much more than that. It began with sweet gestures such as cooking for you or doing your laundry, even going as far as telling you not to worry about your share of the rent for a couple months because he wanted you to ‘do something nice for yourself’. “Eren, that is not what we agreed upon. I cannot let you pay the rent by yourself, that’s not fair at all.” “I already told you, it’s fine. Consider it an early birthday gift or something.”

but roommate!eren was reaping his rewards in more ways than one…one night as you lie sleeping on the couch, flat on your stomach and exhausted from a long day, you’d be awoken to the tender touch of warm hands caressing the backs of your thighs. Eventually, you’d feel those fingertips creeping up to the center where your panties were peeking out from underneath your work skirt. You’d feel a gentle rub before hearing the sound of sucking teeth and a moan accompanying it. “You’re so wet, baby..fuck. And all for me..” you were halfway conscious but you were aware of what was going on..yet, all you could do is lie there and allow those digits to massage your aching slit. Shutting your eyes, you’d feel the cool air hit your warmth when he peeled them back and shoved one inside..working you over whilst you slept.

“So fucking tight, princess..but I know you can take all of this dick. You’re going to make me fit..” the words barely above a whisper but you heard every last one. Every rambling coming from that familiar voice behind you only grew more lewd as those fingertips went deeper and sped up. Talking about how he wanted to fill you with his cum and watch it drip out as you lie there..how full and cute you’d look if you were pregnant. From how he wished to see you awake just so he could fuck you back unconscious. The sounds of your dripping hole being played with was about to drive him insane and eventually…neither of you could take it!

“I need to fuck you..need to feel this wet lil’ pussy on me so bad, baby.” Almost desperate in a way. Seconds later, (y/n) felt the aching head of a cock throbbing against your entrance; running up and down your clit before very carefully slipping in. “Oh shiiit..you feel even better than I expected, baby. Why’d you keep it from me for so long?” That deep yet whiny voice and thick cock belonged to none other than roommate!eren! Who had mounted you right there in the living room, fucking you prome into the couch. With a hand planted in the center of your back, he’d continue feeding you deep strokes, alternating between fast and slow, hard and gentle..all the while watching the recoil of your backside against his pelvis.

“Look at this fat ass..bouncing on my fucking dick. Oh God, it’s so perfect. I can’t wait to use it too..maybe I’ll slip a plug in you next time.” Those words elicited a much deserved twitch around his shaft and no longer could you pretend. “You really got tight when I said that shit. I knew you were a freak but damn, baby..” chuckling to himself. You’d slowly raise your head with a slight yawn and moan..before turning around and faintly glaring at him. “Erennn..what the fuck—“ “Hey gorgeous, about time you stopped pretending. Enjoy your nap?”

because deep down, roommate!eren knew the truth about you..and all of the dirty, filthy and dark secrets you were keeping. Including the twitter page and blog where you anonymously posted all about him and the depraved things you wanted him to do. Saying things like ‘my roommate is so fucking fine. Just want this man to use me.’ ‘He cooked for me again today, rubbed my feet and ran my bath before I got home..I’m ready to have this man’s baby.’ ‘Saw him coming back up from the gym this morning before I left and had to get myself off when I got to work’ ‘I rub my pussy every night thinking about him. Wishing he’d come in here and pound me.’ Even calling him daddy. It was entirely different from the bashful, nerdy office worker that he knew!

but it was one..or several that stood out to him the most. A series that inspired this whole little exchange..the ones where you were begging for him to use you anytime he wanted! You didn’t care if you were asleep, awake, tired or alert..you wanted him to have full possession of your body. ‘forced to work, born to be his little free use toy that gets dumped with cum whenever he feels like it and twice on his bad days :(’ ‘I just want to lie on the couch one night, pretending to be sleep as he fucks me..’ ‘I love watching him work at his desk. He’s so cute with his glasses on and his hair tied back. I want to sit on his lap and let his dick stay inside of me the entire time.’ ‘he’s worked so hard today, he deserves my throat as a reward.’ There was so much evidence and roommate!eren heard your virtual cries loud and clear.

“Aww, baby. It’s okay. If this was what you wanted, all you had to do was ask. You know I’ll give you the world.” Flashing a toothy grin as he pinned your arms behind your back..beads of sweat and strands of hair plastered to his forehead as he continued pounding you into the cushions. “All this time and you’re still so shy around me…but damn, do I love my job. You can find out all sorts of things. Like that my beautiful roommate wants me to use her like a little slut..” leaning down to utter the last sentence in your ear before feeding a sharp slap to the ass. Alluding to the fact he could easily access your socials and anything else he wanted with his extensive skill set.

unbeknownst to you, he felt the same..often finding himself at his desk, stroking his cock to the thought of you; how hot you looked in all your tight office attire, how pretty you looked wrapping your hair up in that bonnet at night with a bare face and how the sunlight hit your skin on a summer day, and the sway of your ass in that dress that clings to your curvy frame just right…finding himself choking his shaft between the clutches of his knuckles as he imagined it was that warm cunt squeezing him. Even going as far as to place a pair of your panties around himself and jerk until he exploded onto the seat of them. But it was a fairy tale no more..he was making all of yours..and his sick fantasies come true!

“That’s right, bitch. Moan for me..let me know how good I’m fucking you. C’mon..louder.” Reaching around to grasp your throat, he’d tug your head up so that he could make eye contact as he drilled your insides.

“Ughh! Fuuuck—please, use me. Make me come.” Those pleas sound awfully desperate and pathetic. Even so, roommate!eren craved more. He wanted to tap into the most depraved parts of you and bring them to the surface. “That’s more like it. No more of that innocent shit with me. From now on, you’re my slut to use..just my hole. I don’t give a fuck if you’re sleeping, too tired..I’m gonna nut in this pussy.. whenever I feel like it because you begged for it.” Continuously rambling on as those smacking sounds and guttural moans of his grew louder. “Y-yes daddy. All yours..your fucking whore.” At one point, he was almost animalistic..a sign that he was extremely close. You lacked the restraint for that however. Gripping the cushions in front of you whilst streams of your juices leaked underneath you. “That’s it. Squirt on that dick, bitch. How'd you know that’s my favorite?” Tears pooling down your face when you felt him slip a thumb into your puckering asshole. Just to make matters worse, that same hand gripping your throat would soon fish hook into your jaw and pull it open.

“Look at you..all mine. Got me playing in all your pretty holes. Tell you what..since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll let you choose where you get my cum. Sounds good?” And it was a no brainer if you’d ever heard one. You couldn’t get it out fast enough that you wanted him to fill your pussy to the brim. “Aw, you really do want my babies..sure thing, princess—“ in one final move, roommate!eren pinned you to the sofa; a clump of your newly done hair in his hand as that orgasm ripped through his body..surging out in the form of hot, cream colored ropes of seed spilling into your womb. You were both left a shaking, disgusting mess. Wet and drenched in each other’s bodily fluids. He couldn’t help but to reward you for a job well done with a sloppy kiss so he’d shove that tongue deep between your jaws and moan as your lips locked. Reveling in the fucked out glow on your face.

“There’s my baby..hey, are you alright? How are you feeling?” Swiping your tears of pure bliss away with his thumb. “I’m..the happiest I’ve ever been.” And that was a given. Once the two of you came down from those climatic highs, he’d withdraw..dragging a trail of his cum along with him as he watched it pulsate out.

“I’m glad to hear that. Why don’t we get cleaned up and order some food. We have a lot to talk about, don’t you think?” Referring to the fact that this new agreement was going to require much consent and guidelines. Either way, both of you were excited for this new dynamic and looked forward to this relationship. You’d spent years fantasizing about all of these things. Documenting them on an anonymous page, too afraid that the real you would run a man away. But roommate!eren was the one you’d been searching for and he wasn’t going to let you down!

@hoohoohope @dancingwithdeities @violetxxvenom @nova2kss @friendlyneighborsslvt @acidrotzikr @shamelesshoefairy @soleilsfilm @vmpireslut @cc1306

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plethorawrites · 6 months ago

Note

hey! what about clark who always makes you ride him because he’s afraid that with him on top he might hurt you cause he’ll lose control of his powers?

Oookkayyy. I believe I'm veering into some very precarious territory, lmao. But, yess, I do have thoughts! (NSFW content)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Despite the fact that Clark Kent was 6'3 (while slouching), 225 pounds, and otherwise incredibly built, he was perhaps the least physically intimidating person alive. In fact, he was practically terrified of his own features—the same ones that made you utterly melt.

It wasn't until you discovered his identity as Superman that you realized the reason his hands never actually touched you during hugs, and he preferred you holding his arm over holding hands with each other. He was afraid. He always had been, in a way, but it was usually manageable.

That was because he wasn't trying to pursue a relationship.

You were affectionate, craving attention in whatever form possible, from cuddling on the couch to just grazing his pinky with yours while at lunch. And you wished he would return it more than he did. He wanted to. He really did. It was just so damn hard when he was terrified to hurt you. He'd never forgive himself if he did something that harmed you in any way.

The more physical your relationship became, the harder it became to reduce contact to the minimum amount he could get away with. You wanted more and so did he. But he could crush you without even meaning to, break your bones by just holding your hips, maybe even something worse than both of those things.

No, if you needed intimacy, he would gladly give it to you, since he wanted it just as badly, but he'd refrain from doing anything that could cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort or harm. You, being on top, was the only sensible answer.

Not to mention, incredibly attractive.

You always were, but there was something about the angle, about him just laying there, staring at you, watching you get lost in your own euphoria that drove him insane. The way your hair kept falling into your face, your fingernails kept digging further into the skin of his shoulders or chest, how your eyes sparkled brighter than usual.

To say nothing of how you actually felt, your hips soft against his bare skin with every slight roll you made, grinding against him slowly to prolong your time together as long as possible.

He could barely handle your usual smile, but the one you were giving him right now, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress a little huff of laughter made his heart clench.

"What?" He wondered, his breathing a bit heavy. He was doing a terrible job of keeping his composure and was pretty sure you could tell.

You shook your head, your hands planted firmly on his chest while admiring the way his head always tilted when he was curious. "Nothing," you mumbled, the word taking a little while to find since you had to focus enough to remember how to speak. "You just..." Your lips pursed as one especially long drag of your hips made your breath hitch. "... You're like a pillow prince." You teased a moment later.

Clark's mouth dropped a little, in surprise but not offense. You weren't exactly wrong. He was laying there, his hands behind his head, watching you do all the work, like always. But it wasn't because he wanted to. In fact, he was itching to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his hands and it was taking all his restraint not to flip you over. He just couldn't risk it.

"Maybe I just like the view," he replied, his hips jerking up slightly when he felt you clench around him. His jaw tightened at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he reveled in the feeling for a moment. "You—" he swallowed, his eyes opening. "—are you so perfect on top of me."

Another bashful smile spread across your face as you dropped your head and resisted the urge to move your hair, afraid that if he moved his hands, he'd lose control entirely.

"You like watching me struggle," you muttered, your hands moving to his shoulders to grip them tightly, your movements slowing to a stop, trying to catch your breath. "Admit it..." You panted. "... you're a sadist."

He laughed, his body shaking under you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he assured you. "You're doing good for me."

You hummed slightly at the praise, closing your eyes for a moment. "It's exhausting," you admitted, your legs killing you despite the enjoyment. "Always so... difficult."

"I know," he responded sympathetically, hesitantly removing his hands from behind your back, hovering them over your thighs for a while, contemplating before carefully setting his hands on them. He just couldn't resist anymore. You were too damn tempting.

You moved your hands to cover his, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You gonna help me, for once?" You murmur, trying to joke but failing. The words came out with too much lust for that.

He nodded slightly, focusing on making sure his fingers didn't accidentally dig into your skin too hard. "Tell me," he said seriously, staring into your eyes. "The second I take it too far."

You nodded, leaning down to kiss him. "You're not going to hurt me," you whispered. "I trust you."

#headcanon #x reader #plethorawrites #clark kent smallville #clark kent #smallville clark kent #clark kent smut #clark kent imagine #clark kent x reader #clark kent x female reader #clark kent x you

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meganegatari · 6 months ago

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i was busy having a mental breakdown only i saw this art and just about creamed my pj pantaloons so i needed to do something about that!!!!! cait i love you my beautiful princess with a couple disorders but that should be me RAHHH hi vi nation i have something for yall (also written in like 2 seconds be nice)

nsfw drabble—overstimming vi. 18+ content. sub!vi, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, brief mention of masturbation, vi body hair mention (you already KNOWWW) + aftercare.

orgasms climbing high into the double digits—yet you still weren't done with her. actually far from it, you felt like pushing her buttons, both literally and figuratively.

vi is spent, so limp and exhausted laying next to you, powdery blues begging for your mercy. but you didn't falter. you sat on your knees to the fiery haired woman's side, your fingers—coated with her slick from previous rounds—prancing upon her defined abs. you traced from under her ribcage, to each individual muscle on her torso, down to the wispy strands of magenta hair of her happy trail increasing in thickness until you reached the vermillion tangle resting on her mound, but before you could part her swollen lips once more, you heard her wince from above.

“fuck babe— s'too much, im- hahh, i dunno how much more…” she trails off, her whiny voice music to your ears, the sweetest candy to your sadistic soul.

her eyelids fluttered open while her chest heaved and head lolled against the pillow underneath—strings of hair stuck to her forehead. her face was shiny, with sweat or even tears, it made her shimmer. the apples of her cheeks were as crimson as prime picking season, a stark contrast from the vulgar mess between her trembling thighs.

her hips twitch—the smallest jerk upward—paired with a woeful plea from her clenched jaw, she needed you again. enough time had passed, and you were ready to give her everything you had.

“one more?” you quip at her, honeyed voice deepening her blush.

with that, she manages a brisk nod.

and like so, that was your cue to resume your descent.

you watch her like a hawk, grazing her skin with an agonizing feather-light touch, revel in how her breathing visibly quickens—gods this sexual intimacy was otherworldly.

tattooed biceps rise to shield her face, arms crossing and settling atop her eyes, but you still had a good view.

your stare unmoving, you skip down to tease her inner thighs, kneading the flesh lovingly—playing with the webs of essence that decorated her.

a whine fills the air, she was growing impatient.

you comply, finally moving your hand up to where she needs you most, you part her and break your line of sight away from her face to marvel at how she sucks your middle two digits in, her back arching.

she lets out a breathy moan—an unguarded sound that makes your own core ache, and you find her thumping clit and press on the bud with your thumb.

you see her mouth fall open, her shallow heaves quickly turning into animalistic pants, the release was bubbling inside her already.

you begin to circle her bundle of nerves gently, your two digits simultaneously pumping in and out of her quivering walls—her sounds only growing more and more lewd. this was pornographic, but the way she didn't hold back flipped a switch inside you.

you press down harder, then flick her swollen clit up and down until she jolts, your assault on her g-spot inside causing spurts of pearlescent cum to land on your hard at work forearm.

you were so mesmerized, so focused, you could even call it entranced by her. you had to fight the urge to shove your free hand down your own undergarments and soothe the build up there but you resisted, this was about her.

her whimpers and groans came in time with your rhythmic, regular thrusts, you felt her pussy spasming as another orgasm rushed through her, overtaking her entirely.

the sight, the syrupy squelching sounds and the smell of her sex drove you insane.

you continue to fuck her all the way through the high, until her eyes were welling up with tears and her knuckles lost their color from how hard she was gripping at everything around her—her hair, the sheets, you.

when it got too much, she squirmed away from you instinctively, and you obeyed to not hurt her. you'd never do so.

“you're so fucking hot vi, fuck—the things you do to me…” you mutter under your breath, taking in the sight of her fucked out form. she really was ethereal.

you put your fingers in your mouth to clean up, sighing at her sweetness.

she continued to lay there before you, only this time with a faint smile on her pretty lips.

her eyes were closed, and she looked so peaceful. before she fell asleep you dashed to get a damp washcloth and very gingerly wiped up the remnants of her pleasure from her creamy skin, grinning all the while.

when you were done, you tossed it to the side and joined her horizontally, nuzzling into her embrace.

deciding to make a joke, you try, “what do you say, one more?”

luckily you're met with a belly laugh from your love, and a playful shove to your shoulder.

“not a chance. next time it's your turn, i'll make you cum until you cry.”

taglist: @vifilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ne @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @mascdom @ashaynep @angelynn-nicole @ellabbss @aylabv02108 @lonelyfooryouonly @melsmunch @e11williamsgf @imdrowningindespair @spncrrdlvr @cheyisagirlkisser @thatgyalfisher @eroselless @i-dont-know-00 @ithinkimfuckincrazy @liaponderstings @lesbian-useless @slutzandcuckz @finalgirllx

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eevenus · 7 months ago

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⋆˚࿔ drabble!! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - b.c.

I have thoughts and need to get them out of my head before I go insane.

genre: PURE SMUT TBH!!! MINORS BE GONE!! I WILL BLOCK YOU!!!

pairing: bangchan x fem!reader

warnings: chokeholds (sue me okay), a bit of degradation, rough channie 🥴, reader is called a whore once, size kink if you squint

a/n: I wrote this on my phone because I needed it out of my head NYEOW, I'm going insane over him. dividers by @sister-lucifer

(this is what I was writing to if you wanna listen along 😛😛😛)

✩ thinking so much about Chan having such a horrible day, and I mean absolutely retched. Maybe had some arguments back and forth with staff over a track he was really proud of, a dance practice with small fuckups just out of his control (loose shoelaces tripping him, stumbling over his words, etc), maybe even something as simple as all his anxieties and worries on new tracks and performances have manifested into a boiling anger he can't contain.

✩ he wouldn't want to say anything he doesn't mean, or hurt anyone's feelings, so he wouldn't talk much throughout the day if he can help it. Simple nods and "mhm"s to just get through it. A few texts from you ping his phone every now and then, he's short with you but responds nonetheless. It would almost make him angrier that he can't shake the feeling, I feel.

✩ so he'd try to blow off some steam at the gym, he always hit it on the way home so you wouldn't find it out of the ordinary. But he'd stay a little longer than usual. Trying so, so hard to just shake the feeling off so he can come home to you and relax. But he can't. It sits on his chest worse than any of his anxieties ever could. So he cleans up the area he was using, throws his things into his duffle, and heads home.

✩ he'd show up back to your shared apartment and throw his duffle somewhere out of his sight. His shoes discarded by the door and keys dropped somewhere next to them. And then you'd walk out.

✩ "Hi baby!" So sweet and so kind, already in your pajamas, waiting for him to come home. "Long day?" It was an innocent ask of course, but it clicked a gear in place in his mind. All that anger seemed to quicken the blood rushing through his veins, if you listen close enough in the quiet you'd hear his heartbeat.

✩ no response but he's just stomping his way over to you, and his hands grab your face to smash your lips together. It's messy, teeth knocking every now and then, moving from upper to bottom lip, a bit of spit would connect you when he finally pulled away. Leaving you in a bit of a daze. But before you could question the absolutely hungry look in his eyes his lips would be on you again.

✩ his HUMONGOUS arms would work to pick you up while keeping your lips connected, your hands in his curls as his wrap under your thighs. And he's walking you back to your shared room and his skin is just fiery hot, and he's deepening the kiss while expertly navigating his way down the hall. thank god you walked out and left the door open, because as soon as he is even near your bed he's tossing you onto it and climbing on top of you.

✩ discarding his tank top as you're ridding of your own, his lips moving after to connect with your neck. You'd swear you felt him bite and lick his away along like a hungry animal playing with its prey. And his hands are on your hips, squeezing so hard to keep you in place that it would def leave bruises in the morning.

✩ before you can even register it, you're both without clothes and he's got you on all fours. pulling you down onto his mouth that is just devouring you like your his last meal on death row, like you held a cure for whatever is making him act this way, not like you'd want him to stop.

✩ "Bad day?" You'd question with rutting hips and your hands gripping his hair, he'd simply mumble against you and pull you down further. "Take it out- oh god- on me." You didn't have to tell him really, but it was more like giving him a green light for doing whatever he needed too to blow off the steam that was so pent up. It was rare this happened, but you ate it UP every time.

✩ moments later, after he'd rip at least two orgasms out of you, he's sinking himself into you. Pulling at your hips to meet his, forcing an arch out of you with a flat palm pressing down at the top of your spine. with no mercy does he rut into you, so rough it was physically moving you forward. Your cries and moans muffled with your cheek against the sheets, though you'd have probably been muffled regardless as his moans and groans and growls would be just a bit louder. Feral even.

✩ and when your moans alone weren't enough, he'd slow himself just enough to lean down and wrap his arm around your neck. keeping a hand still on your hip to keep your arch in place when he lifts you up from the bed in a chokehold and returns to his previous pace. Your moans now cut-off whines and groans from the pressure, just enough to slightly bring pressure to your airways but not enough to make you lose all your air. A delightful euphoria of floating and the feeling of his cock pumping into you, you swore in this position he was kissing your cervix in the most delicious way. feeling floaty and so full. so full. (pushing the bde Chris agenda ok).

✩ "fuckin' take it." He'd growl in your ear, and though his arm stays around your neck his hand moves to hold your chin. Relieving the pressure as you take in shaky gasps, keeping you perfectly in place. "Yea? You're my fucking whore, mine- letting me use you, huh? letting me fuck my anger into you?"

✩ he'd be so far gone that he's just mumbling out the nastiest shit he's ever said, and just abusing your pretty little cunt all he wants. And when his growls turn to whines and gasps and groans of his own, his hand reaches between your legs and quickly circles your puffy pretty clit. Silently begging you to cum with him.

✩ ugh and he'd cum so much too. letting you out of his hold halfway through, to lay back against the sheets, but still pushing you through your own orgasm. It would take him a bit to register he's real again before he's pulling out and walking to grab things to clean you up, water, a snack, the works.

✩ "Better?" You'd incoherently mumble after, when you're all laid up together. Snuggled close and naked and safe and warm.

✩ "Mm. Sorry if I was too rough." He'd mumble back, pushing some hair behind your ear before promising to tell you what was bothering him first thing in the morning. But of course you never mind him that way, if you can help him.

✩ he'd apologize PROFUSELY in the morning when he notices your bruised hips and a few red marks of teeth on your neck. Doing his best to mend you. Draw you a bath. Snuggle you as soon as he gets home from the studio. Apologize again. And again. And one more time for good measure. cuz he's just too sweet, and even if he was pent up and needed to channel his anger in a (proactive) different way he could never actually hurt you and he'd feel awful if he ever did. Making sure you feel loved in every way he can in the following days. Cuz he's Channie and an absolute angel, who just loves a rough night every now and again. 😜

EEP KQJDJSNF there's my first spicy drabble, I just needed this out of my fucking head OMG. Need him to chokehold me so BAD KADJNDNF. this is probably a mess because I was trying to get a vision across without turning this into a 7k word fic okay 😭😭. Lemme know if y'all want more of this from meeee by commenting, liking, reposting!! Theenk yewwww ❤️✨🤞🏻

taglist: @possum-playground (taglist is open! Feel free to ask to be added to my general one or the one for my Bangchan series!! or if you'd like to only be added for non-spicy/spicy-only posts!)

#Spotify #eevenus 💌🧸✨#vix's rambles <3 #stray kids #bang chan #skz #christopher bang #bangchan #bangchan stray kids #bangchan smut #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #smut #kpop smut #my fics

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