#and its hard to tell if the kid is wet

[kawaiianimeredhead]

It's funny to hear about diaper opinions without ever having to interact about diapers

[the-family-boytoy]

big bro finding out about my special time with dad. he sticks his head in my room without knocking, as he always does, only this time he sees me, facing the door, bouncing up and down on dad- his hands gripping my hips and guiding me. at first i think hes going to do something about it, but he just stands there looking shocked. as i keep bouncing, letting out my mewling noises, his gaze locked on my chest, i watch a tent begin to form in his shorts. dad lets out a grunt and holds me up so he can thrust faster into me, and my brother startles; he quickly leaves the room, but i know he'll bring it up to me soon.

im proven right the next day when dads at work. my brother comes up to me while im watching cartoons. he stands right in front of the tv and asks how long ive been doing that with dad. i tell him im not sure, a couple months? i notice the bulge in his pants. he tells me im going to have to start doing him favours, otherwise he'll tell dad that i told him about our special time. im upset, but i agree. what choice do i have?

he makes me take out his dick, orders me to suck it. i do my best, but i haven't done this with daddy very much yet and i know im not great at it. bro watches my little butt wiggle every time i try to take him down my throat and decides he's had enough- he wants to move on. i tell him he can rub against me in my panties but he can't put it in! dad knows everything and he told me that hole is just for him. he'll know if bro puts it in and he'll be super mad.

big bro starts rubbing his cock between my legs, dragging up and down where he knows my entrance is. he slides his cock underneath my panties, watching it move between my cheeks under them as he thrusts nice and fast. finally he gets sick of them and pulls my underwear down around my knees. i remind him he can't put it in, and he says "of course, it just feels better like this"

he continues rubbing his cock on me, right against my hole, his tip catching with every thrust. he pulls back for a moment and i think he might be done, only to feel the head of his cock starting to press into my hole. "please no, dad will know! you can't put it in bro, dad's gonna know! he will i promise!" he refuses to listen and continues sliding his cock into me, little by little until he's all the way inside.

im still begging him to take it out as he starts thrusting into me, fucking me fast and hard just like dad does, grunting and groaning about how good my hole feels around him. "i dont care if dad knows i put my cock inside you. its not my fault youre such an easy slut for every man in the family." my hole is so wet his balls smack loudly against me with every thrust, yet i still try to protest in between my moans. "i bet dad wouldnt even be mad," big bro says, not slowing down, "i bet hed like watching his kids fuck like this. i bet he'd get off watching me ruin your little hole. you're so fucking wet, i think you like it too. who's cock do you like better, huh? dad's or your big brother's?" im struggling to think clearly as he pounds into me, i start crying out "dad, daddy, dad, dad" as he fucks me- answering his question or crying out for help, even i couldnt tell you.

big bro starts fucking me harder anyways. "oh you like dad better? yeah? then why are you cumming on my cock, huh? are you just that much of a slut?" and he's right, he reaches down to touch me as he quickens his pace and i cant take it. i start cumming as he fucks me, never slowing down for a second while i fall apart underneath him. "yeah thats right. thats what i fucking thought. cum on your big brothers cock. fuck, i wish dad would walk through the door right now and see you like this. i think im gonna fill you up. i bet dad would love to see his son cum inside you, wouldnt he?" his grunts get louder and his words get more and more obscene as he thrusts into me faster and faster, "yeah you want your big brothers cum? want me to fill you up just like dad does? fuck," bro says and with a few hard thrusts i feel his cum filling me up. he keeps fucking me as he cums, making sure it all stays deep inside.

our breathing begins to settle, but before bro even pulls out we hear the floor behind us creak. our dad looks down at us, a smirk on his face. "a very good opener indeed, son," he says as he starts to undo his belt, "but i think its time you get a front row seat to the main event."

[dulcescorderitas]

𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓸𝓫𝓼𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

warning: 18+, smut, cussing

it started as a look—a lingering, undeniable pull in dean winchester's green eyes every time your shirt dipped low or you shifted just so. it was subtle at first, those quick flicks of his gaze from your face to the curve of your chest, like he couldn't help himself. the hunter, usually so composed, had a tell. it was in the way his jaw tightened, how his tongue swept across his lower lip, slow and thoughtful. you caught him staring more often than he realized, the heat in his gaze like a brand on your skin.

one night, after a particularly bloody hunt, the two of you shared a bottle of whiskey in the bunker’s kitchen. his flannel hung open, gray tee underneath snug against his chest, damp with sweat. you were in one of his shirts, oversized, sleeves rolled up, the thin fabric clinging to your curves in ways that had him shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

he didn’t even try to hide it then. his eyes locked onto the way your nipples pressed against the worn cotton, hard from the chill of the room or maybe the whiskey burning through your veins.

"dean," you murmured, your voice low and teasing, "you gonna keep staring or actually say something?"

his smirk curled slow, dangerous. "can't help it," he muttered, leaning back, legs spreading wider, whiskey glass loose in his hand. "they’re... distracting." his voice dropped on the word, gravelly, like it scraped against his throat.

heat flared in your cheeks, but it wasn’t embarrassment; it was power, pure and crackling. you leaned against the counter, purposefully arching just a little, watching his pupils darken, his tongue darting out to wet his lips again. "oh? what’s so distracting about them?"

his laugh was rough, almost a growl. "you're kidding, right?" he set the glass down with a soft clink and stood, all broad shoulders and that cocksure swagger that made you weak. his gaze flicked down, lingering, burning. "they're perfect. soft, full... hell, your nipples could cut glass right now."

your breath hitched, heat pooling low as he stepped closer, his hand brushing yours on the counter. "dean..." you warned, but it was half-hearted at best.

"nah," he murmured, voice husky, tipping his head to look at you through thick lashes. "been thinking about them all night. all week. hell, probably longer than that."

his hand rose, slow and deliberate, calloused fingers hovering just over your chest. you didn’t move, didn’t breathe, as his thumb ghosted over the peak of one nipple, the faintest touch sending sparks through you.

"so sensitive," he muttered, almost to himself. "bet they'd feel incredible in my mouth."

you bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the whimper clawing its way out. "you're all talk," you managed, though your voice trembled, giving you away.

that was all the permission he needed. his hand cupped your breast fully, thumb circling over your nipple through the fabric. he pressed his hips against yours, letting you feel just how worked up he was. "all talk?" he echoed, smirking. "sweetheart, i'm just getting started."

he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, his other hand sliding up to join the first, kneading, teasing. his thumb and forefinger pinched lightly, rolling the hardened peaks, pulling a gasp from you that he swallowed greedily.

you broke the kiss, panting. "dean," you moaned, arching into his touch. "fuck, don't stop."

"wasn't planning to," he growled, tugging your shirt up and over your head in one smooth motion. his breath caught as he took you in, bare and flushed, nipples pebbling under the cool air. "jesus, you're gorgeous."

his lips descended on you, hot and insistent. his tongue laved over one nipple, then the other, sucking them into his mouth, sharp teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you tighter against him, his hard cock pressing into your stomach through his jeans.

he dropped to his knees without hesitation, tugging your pants down as he went. his mouth didn’t stray far, lips brushing the soft underside of your breast, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that made your head spin.

"dean," you breathed, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him back up to kiss you again, messy and desperate. "need you. now."

his grin was wicked, eyes dark and filled with a hunger that promised he wasn’t stopping anytime soon. "oh, i’ll take my time, sweetheart," he murmured, hands sliding up to cup your breasts again, thumbs brushing over your nipples as his mouth claimed yours. "got a lot of worshipping to do."

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

[snoopychris]

phone calls

warnings: slight mommy kink, edging if you squint, misuse of technology, lowkey inspired by this post

12:04 

chris

chris

baby

12:05

hello?

it’s cold

and raining

12:06

can you just come let me in

12:07 

dude the gym closes at 1:30 so that they can do a midday clean btw.

12:08

hello???

????

omfg 

you piss me off

12:09

HELLO?!?!?!?

are you fucking kidding me

you’re unbelievable 

12:10

whatever i’m going home 

text me if u want.

you spun swiftly on your heels, the light jacket you were wearing wrapped tightly around your frame. it was never normal for chris to not answer his texts, especially when he got so many of them. especially when they were from you. when you were halfway down the stairs, the door behind you swung open. the heavy breathing that was coming from chris quickly got your attention. your immediate reaction was that he was having some sort of asthma attack. 

your worry subsided when you noticed the small wet spot that was on the front of his sweats. he swallows in embarrassment, licking his lips as he looks down at the floor in shame. no words are spoken, but his expression says everything it needs you. he moves away from the door, leaving enough room for you to walk inside. when he sits down on the couch, he still hasn’t made eye contact with you. he’s too embarrassed to even acknowledge your presence. 

“what happened here?” you tease, sitting besides him on the couch. his boner is still clearly pressed up against the material. chris shrugs as he mindlessly turns the tv on, purposely ignoring you and your question. maybe if he stays silent you’ll ignore both the tent in his pants and the wet spot that seemed to be growing. “chris.”

“nothing. nothing happened. my phone was just dead.” he whispers, crossing his legs in attempts to cover himself up. your eyes furrow in confusion. had you mentioned his phone? 

“chris…” you pry, tossing the pillow off his lap. he whines in frustration, throwing his head back. he could try to lie his way out of the situation, but he knows there’s no use. 

“well! it’s just… you took way longer than you said you would and i was just getting so frustrated and i haven’t seen you in a week so i started looking at our pictures while i was jerking off and then when you started texting me… it felt good. and i was reading all your text i was! and then i was getting so close and you said you were leaving and i didn’t want you to go so i just… and now… im just. i was so close to cumming and i didn’t okay?!” chris doesn���t even realize how much information he just gave you or what you can do with it. not until he sees the wide smirk on your face. there’s so many different things running through his mind. the most prominent is how incredibly hard he is and how he can’t do anything to fix it right now.

another whine escapes from the depths of his throat when you tug his pants down swiftly, his lack of underwear doing him no favors at all. he wants to tell you to stop– not because he actually wants you to stop but because hes embarrassed by the situation at hand. he squirms at your touch, thrusting his dick against your hand. his tip is embarrassingly red from his unintentional edging earlier, and its covered in so much precum and spit that it seems like he had been at it for hours. when you let him go, his cock slaps against his hoodie covered stomach. no matter how desperately he wants to touch himself and bring himself to the orgasm hes been so desperately craving for what felt like ages, he knew you held the power right now. 

“please… please baby please help me.” chris mumbles, letting out a gasp when you begin to giggle. you were being so cruel to him right now. how was he supposed to act normal and stay quiet when you were just laughing at him and not even helping?

“wheres your phone?” you ask, searching around the couch. chris scrambles to reach into his pocket, handing you the phone with shaky hands. you grab it carefully, holding it up against his length. he was a bit bigger than his phone, but he wasn’t paying much attention to your actions. all he was trying to do was reach the feeling he had been yearning for. chris only starts to pay attention when you grab your own phone and begin to dial a number. he wants to ask who you’re possibly calling in this moment, but he quickly pieces it together when his phone begins to buzz while pressed against his tip. 

there’s a groan that leaves his lips that’s a lot louder than he wants it to be. he doesn’t care right now. right now he just cares about the fact that your call got sent to voicemail and the buzzing halted. “no no nooo!” he whimpers, reaching for your wrist to move it for you. you tsk and shake your head, handing him your phone. “go ahead. call me again. you want it so bad you can work for it.” tears of frustration form in his eyes at your words. fine.

with shaky hands, chris picks up your phone, pressing the call back button. with each ring on your side, the vibrations seem to be getting stronger on his. he knows it’s not possible, but it feels like which each buzz the feeling is getting more and more intense. he lets out a small cry after the fifth or sixth phone call, his cock beginning to twitch between your hand and his phone. 

it’s pathetic, almost, given that it’s only been about two minutes of constant weak vibrations. you almost want to show him sympathy. he must’ve been a lot more desperate than you had expected if he was cumming this soon. “please… fuck mama please let me cum.” he whispers, his hips thrusting up to meet the vibrations all the way through. “y’gonna cum for me? you gonna make a mess all over your phone? imagine what people would think if they knew you used your phone as a sex toy… how would that make you feel? like a desperate little slut?” you reply, clicking his contact on your phone once more. the vibrations start up again as chris moans, nodding his head rapidly. “please! fuck please please.” he whines, biting his lip. his orgasm hits him faster than he expects, because within seconds of his last plea, white spurts of his cum are coating his phone case. it’s a sight you wish you could’ve recorded but both of your phones were occupied. 

it takes chris a second to catch his breath. it takes you a second to comprehend the situation that just went down. you shrug it off— it’s not the weirdest thing you’ve ever done. as you gather your thoughts next to him, you lay your head down on your boyfriends shoulder. “so like… are we still going to the gym or are we gonna go to best buy and get one of those waterproof cases?”

a/n: please nobody talk to me after this one. thanks and apologies in advance.

dividers by @13hoax and @bernardsbendystraws

tags: @mattybsgroupie @whore4mattsturniolo @sosasturns (for the 1 mili party) @darksturnz @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @ribbonlovergirl @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbratt333 @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @bluessturniolo @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @cykss

[erwinsvow]

little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…

sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)

hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡

in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.

that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.

you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.

it seemed easy enough for rafe though.

he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.

rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.

rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.

until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.

"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."

"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.

"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"

you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.

crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.

but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.

rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.

he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.

"wasn't feeling good. came home."

"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?

"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.

"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."

"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.

rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.

the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.

"you okay?"

"yeah. fine. you okay?"

if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.

"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.

"no, it was too short."

"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.

"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."

"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"

fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.

"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.

your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.

in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.

"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"

you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.

rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.

"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"

"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"

"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"

"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."

yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.

"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."

"rafe, i-"

"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.

"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.

"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."

"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."

"it's hard enough to be mean to you."

"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."

"no problem, kid."

"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.

[sugawhaaa]

BANGCHAN ONE-SHOT

🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖•{Never sleep}•.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷

Warnings//genre:: SMUT, big dick channie, creampie, oral (f rec) face sitting, dick pics 😋, praise, teasing, hair pulling, groping, nipple play

Pairing:: dom!Chan x sub!fem!reader

A/N:: If u couldn't tell I took inspo from my dream last night 😍 also while writing this I listened to a lot of weird songs including gangnam style and sexy and I know it...

Skz masterlist::🍒

🎧::

A few days ago Chan was on tour, cooped up in his little hotel room dreaming of you. He wanted to be with you, feeling your warmth, smelling your scent, and feeling your touch. As he fantasized about his own girlfriend he found a tent forming in his loose jeans and he just couldn't fight it; he pulled down his jeans, palming himself through his boxers before finally setting himself free. He runs his cupped hand around his cock, rubbing softly as he thinks of your small hands, their warmth and sincerity. He lets out a frustrated groan before picking up his phone, opening the camera, and pointing it down to his girth. He takes a clear picture before sending it to you with a little message.

Chan>thinking about you sweetie

The message alone sounds innocent but with the photo his words become lewd. He grins to himself before setting his phone down, knowing that when you wake to see his messages you'll be feeling the same way as he is right now.

Throughout the night he sends many more messages, videos, audios, and photos. The next morning you wake up to at least twenty messages from Chan and as you open the messages your jaw drops. Photos of his cock, videos and audios of him moaning, and a photo of the mess he made of himself before blaming you with a little winky face. You didn't even know how to respond, how does one reply to such a "good morning"?

After those messages, he doesn't message you a whole lot due to being so busy and active around concerts and events. Fast forward to now and he barely just got in through the doorway and he already has his face buried between your legs. He abruptly pulls back and looks up at you, mouth and jaw wet. "Sit on my face," Chan orders as he lays back against the mattress.

"Babe, you just got home though, you haven't even unpacked yet!" You protest but it's too late, Chan has made up his mind and you will sit on him. He grabs your thighs and you lose your balance due to his strength. You get yourself situated on top of him and he gives you know time to prepare for his schemes. He sorts his tongue through your folds as his nose presses up against your clit, his hands situated on your ass, gripping the plump flesh hard. He sucks on your folds hard as his fingers trickle closer to your slit, one teasing around your tight hole. "C-Chan," You gasp softly as his tongue circles around your opening, tongue poking through your slit every now and then.

You hear Chan choking and struggling to breathe but he's insistent on getting you to cum. You release some of your body weight, letting him breathe for a moment, but he instantly brings you back down. You teeter over the edge as he fucks you with his tongue, his thumb stimulating your ass and his nose pressing up against your clit. That numbing warmth rides up your body as your head falls back and your voice is no longer yours to control, only moans. "Chan~" You moan as you grip his head, his mouth never resisting its assault on your core. "'cumming," is the only thing you can muster to say as the pleasure swallows you whole, your legs twitching and body trembling.

Chan can only moan into your core but you can tell by the soothing rubs of his hands on your ass that he is silently praising you. You bring yourself back down to earth and pull yourself off of your helpless boyfriend before looking down at him. His face is red, hair sweaty and face glistening but a grin of approval and lust lingers on his lips. "Sorry," You say softly but Bangchan just laughs.

"For what baby?" He sits up and gets you to sit on his lap.

"I don't know, smothering you?" You chuckle softly at the absurdity of your words but Chan smirks.

"That's exactly what I wanted," He brushes his lips against your jaw, making you moan softly. He slicks your hair to the side before leaving a dark mark on your neck. "What position do you want babygirl? Wanna ride me, or perhaps want me to bend you over the bed and fuck you till you cry, hm?" His voice has a hint of mischeif but you can tell there's a hidden sincerity. "Or maybe both?" He tilts his head before leaning back to hear your response.

"Both sounds good," You blush with a cheeky smile and he smirks.

"Let's see if you can take all of my built up love for you," He chuckles as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his jeans. You assist him in taking off his pants and tossing them aside, leaving his cock standing up against his stomach. "I'll go easy on you at first," He winks as he holds your hips up over his own, lining his cock up with your soaked cunt. You lower yourself onto him, moaning blissfully as his girth stretches out your tender skin. Chan doesn't fail to moan either, his head falling back as his lips part. "Fuck I missed you so much," He grins as he rubs your hips.

He brings his hands over to your ass, lifting softly, encouraging you to move. You do as he silently suggested and roll your hips against his, feeling the head of his cock rubbing up against the deepest point of your pussy. "I'm sorry baby but I can't fucking wait," He groans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a faint red mark. He encourages you to bounce on his cock and you do just as requested.

"I don't mind, I missed you too," You whine softly as you feel his cock gliding in and out of you rhythmically, your walls tightly hugging his girth. You bring your hands up to his chest, using him as support as you bounce on his cock, your hair jumping with each plummet.

"Good girl," He growls as he intently watches your body. He grabs one of your tits, squeezing the tender flesh as he looks up at you, eyes filled with adoration with lust. "Fuck this pussy was made for me," He grins before sucking your nipple into his mouth, electing a little squeak from you.

"Your cock's so big," You whine as you feel swear accumulating on your body, your skin undoubtedly turning red at this point.

"Yeah? But you take it so fucking good, don't you?" He growls, thrusting his hips up to punctuate his words. You let out a broken cry and the sudden tension forming in your gut from his deep thrust. You nod with a whimper responding to his taunting question. "Look at you, so fucking cute when you're all fucked up like this," He rubs your cheek with a smile, honestly adoring you. "I need to fuck you baby," He blurts out and you pause. "Bend over the bed," He orders and you don't defy in the slightest. You slip off of him before bending over the bed, impatiently waiting for him to unleash his lust on you.

Bangchan looms over you from behind as his cock rubs up against your core. "I'm going to fuck your brains out," He whispers, his words not a threat but more of a promise. And so, he begins. His cock slides into you with ease with a little force, pushing up against that gummy spot, and since the two of you had already been at it, chan doesn't hold back. His hips slap into your ass, the room filling with the lewd sound of your skin clapping and his balls meeting your wet folds. You can't contain your moans, your jaw seemingly locked open as your body bounces with each of his thrusts.

"C-Chan," You whimper, your arms trembling as you try to hold yourself up. Bangchan grabs a messy fistfull of your hair and pulls it back, your head now tilted back as your body jerks up the bed with each pound. You let out a long moan, your eyes rolling back.

"Oh you like that don't you," He growls as he snaps his hips into you. "I'm close baby, gonna unload inside you and you're gonna take it all," He hisses, his words punctuated with his thrusts. Just when you thought it wasn't possible he thrusts faster.

"Fuck! Chan I-I can't!" you cry out.

"Oh but you can baby," He whispers in your ear. "Let it out baby, I can tell your close," His hips never relent as he reassures you. "Your little pussy is clenching around me, just begging to make you snap," He growls as you feel a warm tingle consume your body but you don't even need to announce your orgasm, chan is already well aware. "There it is~" He lets your hair go, knowing that you like to be in control when you cum, or more that you like your own pleasure to control you.

Not long after your body shakes and quivers Bangchan empties inside you as well. His load was big and somehow felt heavy, like he had been holding this release in for a while. When he's finished he lets out an exhausted moan and rests some of his weight on you. "Thank you...I really needed that," He sighs before slipping out and rubbing your swollen folds with his thumb. "Let's get a shower baby," He kisses your back before you stand up beside him. You nod in agreement and he quickly whisks you up, holding you bridal style before carrying you to the bathroom.

[ariestrxsh]

could you write a blurb of bsf!chris x innocentbsf!reader where she has never had her first kiss, so he teaches her and gets hard because he’s the first to ever teach her. her being the innocent girl she is she asks what’s poking her, so he teaches her that too (with her consent ofc😭)

i apologize in advance if you’ve already written something like this, i love your work by the way <3

Thank you so much. 💖 I hope you like this little bit I wrote for you. 😇

Chris gets hard while showing you how to kiss...

"It's so embarrassing," you said in a mousy voice as you hid your face, your cheeks turning rosey pink. "Don't be embarrassed, kid," Chris said, nudging your hands away from blocking his view of your flustered expression and giving you a warm smile after you'd admitted to him that you hadn't had your first kiss.

"C'mere. I'm gonna show you how," Chris motioned for you to sit on his lap. "Really? You'd do that for me?" You asked, resting your body weight on his thigh. He nodded. "Okay, don't overthink it. Just move your lips with mine, and put your hands wherever it feels right," he said before placing the edge of his finger under your chin to kiss you.

You felt a magnetic force pulling you in towards your best friend, his soft lips lightly grazing yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, gently caressing yours with his. Your hand wandered towards his chest, and you placed your palm against his heart, feeling its quickening rhythm. He delicately moaned into your mouth, his lips vibrating against your lips.

You felt all the things you were told you'd feel during your first kiss; a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach, a slight buzzing all over your body, and blood rushing to your head. Chris cradled your face in one palm while his other rested on the small of your back, steadying you on his knee, the kiss growing deeper and more passionate the longer it went on.

Suddenly, you pulled away when you felt something poking you in your leg. "What's that?" You asked, glancing down at the bulge in Chris' pants. "I'm sorry, kid. Now I'm the one who's embarrassed," Chris chuckled, his eyes slowly fluttering open from the kiss.

"What is that?" You repeated, your eyes widening as it twitched against the fabric of his sweats. "I can't help it. Kissing you really turns me on," he whispered, pulling you closer and leaning in to close the space between his lips and yours again.

You enjoyed the way it felt to kiss your best friend, but you started to grow a bit frustrated at the fact that he wouldn't tell you what it was. You decided to investigate yourself, your hand slowly moving down his chest into his lap. "Woah. Hey, what are you doing, kid?" Chris giggled, abruptly ending the kiss. "I'm trying to make it stop moving," you innocently told him, rubbing it back and forth and eliciting a soft whimper from Chris.

"Kid, you're making it worse," he hissed as his cock started to stir even more. "Did I hurt you?" You asked, sounding concerned and pulling your hand away. "No, it feels so good," Chris responded, his voice thick with lust. "Keep going," he begged, desire twinkling in his eyes as he placed your hand back in his lap.

"Do it just like you were doing before. Oh, that's it. Good girl," he whispered into your ear as you stroked it for him through the cotton fabric. You didn't know exactly what you were doing, but you knew Chris liked it, and you liked that Chris liked it. "Atta girl. You're doing such a good job," he told you, looking into your eyes and smiling as you started to rub it faster.

You could feel his hardness begin to throb against your palm while he praised you, encouraging you to keep it up. "That's it," he nodded, his glazed over blue eyes still locked on yours as his facial expression began to soften, a few guttural moans passing through his lips. "You're gonna make me cum," he moaned, all the muscles in his cock tightening before he released his seed, leaving behind a big wet spot on his grey sweatpants.

"Is that a good thing?" You innocently asked him, peering down at the mess wide-eyed. He chuckled, still trying to catch his breath and stroking your cheek with his thumb. "It's a very good thing. You were perfect."

[sttoru]

toji making suggestive comments towards reader infront of newborn megumi, then reader getting mad at him telling him to never do it again 😭😭

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff + suggestive themes. reader gets called ‘mama’.

“don’t start.”

you knew it — just by taking one glance at your husband from your seat at the couch — you knew toji was up to no good. his hands in the pockets of his shorts, eyes half lidded whilst checking you out and the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing grin; he was seconds away from making inappropriate comments about you, to you.

“ain’t said nothin’ yet.” toji shrugs, smirk still in place. he sits down next to you on the couch and looks down at the baby who was curled up on your chest.

it was an adorable picture; to see the mother of his child being so nurturing and caring, so loving and content. it was an every day sight, yet those mundane moments intensified the urge to take you to the bedroom and shower you with his. . . affection.

megumi babbles something in the meantime, his saliva creating a wet spot on your shirt — which you don’t mind since you’ve gotten used to it, “what is it, ‘gumi? hmm? cutie.”

you giggle and tickle your little son gently. your focus was entirely on him instead of toji, who had already snuck an arm around your waist by the time you realised the proximity. his breath tickled your ear;

“you look so fuckin’ sexy right now, mama.”

you gasp in response. not at the seductive and flirtatious words your husband had whispered, but rather at the fact that he cussed in front of megumi. you made it a household rule — to try and swear less in front of your child. and yet there toji goes, breaking that rule a week after its made.

“toji. what’d i say about cussing in front of your child?” you warn with a glare, but that does nothing more than turn toji on more. he loved it when you bossed him around or had an attitude.

megumi’s babbles and coos had died down eventually. he was more engrossed by the way his parents were interacting in front of him. you didn’t seem as ‘happy’ with toji’s words, however, and that made the emergency alarms in the little baby’s head go off;

“bwah! bwah!” megumi’s smacks toji’s thigh with his tiny hand. the impact wasn’t rough, but the sound of the slap on toji’s bare skin sure made it seem like it was.

you grin as megumi comes to your ‘rescue’. the small slaps didn’t seem to stop until toji gave up and defeatedly redrew from you—scooting just a few inches away from his son and wife.

“got what you deserved.” you lightheartedly comment to your husband. megumi didn’t seem to stop there; the kid sticks his tongue out towards his father’s direction for a split second—rubbing salt into the wound.

“watch it, megumi. i’ll fight ya if it means i get y’r mommy’s attention.” the dark-haired man jokes with a smirk tugging at his lips, his fist gently and carefully making contact with megumi’s chubby cheek. the little boy huffs and instantly tries to nibble onto toji’s knuckles, which was incredibly adorable.

“oh-ho? seems like i finally have an opponent worth fighting. .” toji comments before lifting his hands up in the air, fingers bent at the knuckles, teeth bared — re-enacting a scary monster creature of some kind,

you watch the two with amusement; megumi wasn’t backing down at all and was flailing his arms in the air as toji slowly approaches him again, making tiny noises in protest. your husband was also making some noises, though less. . . cute. his were more growling like—it showed the dedication to his role, at least.

“got’cha! c’mere,” toji grins as he suddenly grabs and lifts megumi up in the air; putting him in air-jail as he likes to call it. the baby kicks and squeals, trying its best to get out, “now—are ya gonna let me show mama some affection or should we do this the hard way?”

megumi protests once more like he actually knows what was said to him and kicks his legs frantically, causing both toji and you to laugh at your baby’s antics.

you sat back and watch the two go back and forth like that for a good while, enjoying the moment. you felt all giddy seeing them interact and wanted nothing more than to kiss and cuddle with both.

and of course, you wished that precious moments like these would never come to an end any tjme soon.

[tamajiki2]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒!! 🫙 𝐒. 𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒;

student/teacher relationships,

facefucking, age gap, pred reader,

manipulation and blackmail, top reader,

hehim amab reader, general dark content.

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄.

it was a fucking mistake.

that was all aizawa could think of as he shakily knelt on the shiny white tiles that floored his office. sure, it was a mistake, but it was one he could actually feel. and best of all? it felt good.

a hazy night dancing with coworkers and a few too many drinks. terrible decisions, and groaning into the crook of someone's neck. a blurry face, and the hard imprint of a cock rutting against his back. he could hardly see anything, let alone remember. bright white and a loud, shuddering orgasm. he could've sworn he was floating.

however, his fun was promptly put to an end when he was met with one of his third-year students sitting lazily at the desk chair in his office the following morning.

"[ name ].", he warned.

you smiled. what you were so giddy about, aizawa wasn't in a hurry to find out. you were usually a quiet, mild-tempered kid who remained comfortably around his friends, and never behaved outside the norm of the average student.

he watched, puzzled, as you ignored his call and rested your legs on top of his desk.

so what was up with this brazen display of confidence?

"i don't think you understand the situation you're in, teach.", you chuckled and pulled your phone from your pocket. that fateful day, he was too wasted to recognize you and you were too horny— sorry, ambitious to reject this shining opportunity right in front of you. you turned the screen so that aizawa could see its contents clearly.

his heart dropped.

it was him, sprawled out on pure white sheets. his eyes were half-lidded and hair disheveled as he was fucked on camera. he looked like a mess. he hardly even had the sense to cover his face while the flash raked over his entire body.

you waved the phone around, watching aizawa's eyes follow it with a gaze of pure resentment. "sleeping with a student, mr. aizawa? gee, that's terrible. you could lose your job over something like that, you know?", you hummed, voice light and teasing.

aizawa opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

you continued, "it's alright though, i have no intention of telling. as long as you do me a teensy favor..." you gestured for him to come close and aizawa knew he had no choice. aizawa grit his teeth as you stood, now face to face with him.

"on your knees."

which brought him to now.

aizawa stared down at the floor when the familiar jingle of metal scraped at his ears. then, the rapid clinking sound of a zipper. a pool of dread filled his stomach. a long pause during which he didn't dare to look up.

two light slaps against aizawa's cheek. you were already hard. he couldn't miss the distinctive feeling of veins pulsing against his skin.

"open wide.", you singsonged, pressing your tip to aizawa's lips.

reluctantly, he did, and immediately wished he hadn't as you gagged him on his cock. you didn't waste a second setting a brutal pace. you gripped him harshly by the hair, groaning something about how sexy he was. but aizawa couldn't hear you over his own rhythmic choking. aizawa desperately grasped at your thighs.

"ghk—", his back was arching, body trying to struggle against your hold. his eyes were burning.

globs of saliva and pre streamed down his chin and splattered onto the floor. you fucked his throat pliant; aizawa could feel every trace and curve of your cock in his brain. you looked down at him and, god, that almost threw you over the edge. his eyes were sparkling and wet with tearful shame. he no longer had energy to glare at you. not like it would do anything anyway, with your thick dick down his gullet. stray hairs stuck to his face which framed it like a pornographic painting. aizawa kneaded the back of your thighs in a wordless plea. that only drove you further into your descent to orgasm.

he thought that he'd surely die at a particularly rough snap of your hips. you had tangled more of his hair into your grip, like a ponytail, and were punching the back of his throat. aizawa whined loudly.

"shit, you feel so good. 'm gonna cum."

you were rolling your hips now, instead of thrusting like before. aizawa thought that was worse. he was forced down to your hilt where he would stay for what felt like hours, gagging and swallowing around your cock while you humped impossibly deep into his skull.

you couldn't think of anything else except the feeling of his throat tightening around you. damn, he was addictive. you leaned over him further restricting his movements. there's a strangled noise from under you.

'it's almost over', he thought, but 'almost' didn't seem like 'almost' anymore as you began an onslaught more viscous than the last. aizawa found himself fading in and out of consciousness, his vision light and blurring. 

one last snap of your hips and you were buried deep into him. he felt your seed scorching his already-sore throat. you pulled away, absolutely relishing in the mess you made of shota aizawa.

a thick layer of fluids coated his face and dripped down the front of his longsleeve. while he coughed and spluttered for air, you felt oddly endeared to him. you gently massaged your hands through his hair.

"i'll see you later, teach.", you said sweetly.

again, the rustling of clothes followed by that metallic 'zzzip'. your sturdy hands left him and aizawa swallowed thickly. he was sure he looked terrible. he did his best to wipe away the worst of it with his sleeves. the fabric felt like knives dragging across his raw skin. he let out a deep sigh upon hearing your descending footsteps and the door slam shut.

he noted his next class starting in a few hours and grimaced. he'd have to hurry and clean up if he wanted to make it in time. beforehand, though— he looked down at the crotch of his pants that were dark and sticky with cum— he had a situation to deal with.

“shit.”

[ an; hey so let me know if you guys like this facefuck and aizawa mmm yum yum si or no ]

[littlcdarlin]

dbf!Joel headcanons

warnings: big, though unspecified age gap, 18+ (as always)

note: Uni has been kicking my ass, so I’ve only had time for some headcanons lately. This Joel is very sweet, but I’m open to writing sleazy or dark Joel, too! If you have requests for any headcanons, I will be able to write them even during this stressful time. Full fics will take me a while longer. Enjoy reading, my loves <3 and feel free to add stuff!

He doesn’t really know how to cook well and mostly eats his faves every day but when you stay over more and more he makes an effort to learn and actually finds out he really likes it

Whatever pressure your parents put on you, he relieves it by accepting it rather than trying to fix it for you — you can just exist around him without expectation

He worries the age difference means you don’t have much to talk about, so he watches your favourite show that you mentioned and although it certainly wouldn’t have been his first pick, it lets him unwind. He likes watching something he knows you’ve watched and loved when you’re not around, it makes him feel closer to you

When he first starts looking at you differently he blue balls himself so as not to disrespect you — when he has sex with someone to relieve himself, he accidentally says your name to them

He keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet and cashiers wonder why he smiles at his debit card so much

He finds it hard to stay friends with your dad, because it makes him feel weird about this dynamic with you. He distances himself from your parents after they react badly to the news of your relationship, not because of guilt or cowardice, but because he doesn’t tolerate how they treat you

He thought he would hate the gossip after the two of you go public, but when you do, he finds himself imagining knocking you up just so everyone knows what he does to you. He opts for lots of hickeys until kids might be a possibility, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending you don’t have an IUD when he finishes inside of you

He loves when you wear his clothes, but when you forget your scarf at his place he wears it and enjoys that just as much — it smells like you and he likes the idea of people being able to tell it’s somebody else’s

When he figures out how much you like him talking to you during sex, he starts using the same voice/phrases in public to get you flustered & wet for him

He keeps everything that reminds him of you, like parking tickets etc. He doesn’t do anything with those things, doesn’t put them in a box, so they linger around his house, reminding him of you the way photographs would, except more privately

He starts “putting in an effort” for you when you start dating: styling his hair & wearing clothes he thinks you would prefer, until you tell him you like nothing more than his flannels and band tees and jeans, and although he doesn’t tell you, he’s beyond relieved. He realises you like him for him

When you tell your parents, Joel asks your father to hit him because “he knows he deserves it”. With time he learns he also deserves your kisses and smiles. Those things coexist within him, he thinks both are true

Despite completely supporting you in your pursuit of a degree & career, he likes when you’re on holiday, waiting around for him in his house wearing nothing but a pair of panties he bought for you & one of his hoodies. During those lazy weeks, he fucks you morning, afternoon, and night: before he leaves, when he gets home, and right before you go to sleep

He buys you a ring during the first week of dating because you mentioned how much you like it. He doesn’t give it to you until he knows you feel certain about him — he doesn’t want to freak you out. Still, even before that, he sometimes looks at it in its little black box and envisions it on your finger

During your first couple of “public dates” (neighbourhood barbecue where your parents are present etc.) he refrains from touching you much, although everyone knows about your relationship. You have to take his hand and initiate small touches for him to feel more comfortable

It takes him a short while, but then he loves being able to touch you in front of people: a hand on your lower back, an arm across your shoulder, his fingers lacing through yours, him pulling your back against his front and wrapping his arms around you. People stare sometimes (your Dad breaks one or two wine glasses in his hand), but Joel stops caring when he sees how happy it makes you

He tells you that you can change things about his home, that it should feel like your place, too and asks if you want to go shopping for “candles and stuff”, but you love being in a space that feels completely like him. It’s not how your apartment looks, but it makes you feel at ease, like you’re somehow living inside of him

Before he tells you he loves you, he whispers it in your ear when you’re sleeping, hoping your subconscious will somehow pick up on it. When he does tell you while you’re awake for the first time, it’s during breakfast. You stub your toe, and let out a string of curses you must have picked up on from him, and while he presses ice against your foot, kneeling in front of you, he smiles up and tells you: I love you.

The first time you sleep over at his house after he spent the night in your apartment, two brand new bottles of the shampoo and conditioner you use are in his shower. You thank him and jokingly ask why he didn’t buy your shower gel, too. He kisses you and tells you he likes when you smell like him.

He likes making you come more times than you thought you could — something about moving in and out of you while you tell him you can’t do it again, that you’re done, and then watching you fall apart on his cock anyway, thrills him to the bone. It makes him feel powerful, but part of it is knowing you let him fuck you without expecting an orgasm, that him being inside of you is enough for you to feel good

He doesn’t tell you, but he adds your name to his car insurance, so that you can drive it whenever you want

When you figure it out you give him road head every time the two of you drive somewhere — until he almost crashes the car and he forbids you to tempt him while he’s behind the wheel

He’s so nervous he asks Tommy for help when picking out a birthday gift for you — Tommy goes overboard and the gift turns out to be something completely ridiculous like a pair of huge earrings you would never wear. You tell Joel you don’t need a big fuss to feel loved by him. At night, he gives you a present he’s been wanting to give you for a while: he plays you a song he wrote for you on his guitar. It’s quiet and simple and so perfect you cry for half an hour

He doesn’t sleep well when you’re not around, and loves being close to you at night. If he could, he’d sleep nestled inside of you after a round of lazy midnight sex every night

As much as Tommy annoys him, it makes him happy to see how well you two get along. When you become actual friends with Tommy and hang out with him on your own, he’s more than pleased: the two people he loves the most in the world have become close

He would never ask it of you, but when you tell him you have stopped masturbating because he fucks you so often, it pleases him deeply. He likes being the only source of your pleasure. When you are apart for a while because of work/collage etc., he buys you a toy he can control from his phone

He tells Tommy he thinks he’s going to marry you during the first month of dating, which you find out about only on your wedding day during Tommy’s speech

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

When your best-friend Steve Harrington asks you to hold his fleshlight for him.

It wasn’t really something that either of you planned on happening. But then it just did. Steve had been pent up from work all day from typical annoying patrons, smart mouthed jocks from the high school, that were freshmen when he was a senior (tenfold karma, Harrington), and Keith’s particular way of criticizing his every move out of some form of nerdy revenge. You could count on one hand the times that Steve had to bail out of your two person movie nights on Fridays (Saturdays were for dates and Sundays were for hanging with the rest of the parties and running kids around), and tonight happened to be one of those occurrences. Usually, it would be for self-care or whatever reason he needed to spend alone, but when he’d barely shed his leather jacket upon entering his house, dusting snow off of his boots — he was about to crawl out of his skin by the time his massive palm was wrapped around the receiver, thumb strangled by its cord.

He was… off? And seconds after he’d cancelled without much reason, the line went dead. You wanted to give him space, especially because he usually called back to tell you goodnight. But after being unable to sit still and finish a generous portion of the large pepperoni pizza you’d ordered the two of you, you were grabbing your keys for the journey over to his place.

~*~

It didn’t take but five minutes before you reached Steve’s house, pulling in behind his familiar car. You dangle the copy - made spare from your pointer finger, trekking your way up to the door and letting yourself in, wiping at your wind-whipped, wet eyes. You know he’s not on the first floor, its entirety dark and a little cool. So you toss your coat and keys onto the small table beside the entryway, kicking off your boots to join his on the cheesy welcome mat, and you make your way to the second floor landing to his bedroom. Seeing a buttery glow spill out from the crack in his doorway, you’d proceeded, only to be met with a sight that only appeared in your late night fantasies… and pretty much your every waking thought.

Steve is facing his mattress, sheets tousled and clothing pooled beside him, stood on the left side of his bed, naked and glistening in the perspiration of teasing, observing his massive length as he edges himself, moving the toy slowly over his cock. You know what it is, you’ve seen it in magazines and stores, in some porn. A fleshlight, they call it. Your brain goes through a million thoughts at a couple seconds to spare.

Why doesn’t he have someone here to do this with? He can get a date?

Is he okay? Obviously he’s very okay.

Holy fuck… he’s big.

Holy fuck… he’s beautiful.

A little more than usual, waiting on the summer sun to tan his freckle and mole spattered skin. His hair has grown longer, curling at the nape, his shoulder blades and biceps defined from a regular regime. And that ass, the way it flexes and is perfectly plump, connecting to those hairy thighs and big feet, his own toes curling when he twists, a wet squelch coming from the faux cunt. There’s beautiful chestnut curls scattered across him sternum and connecting to a trail that surrounds his base and those full, heavy, balls. That cock… thick, barely able to be pushed back into the toy, his fingers having to peel back its soft pink layers to help ease the slick way, decorated in a vein that matches the one running along his forearm

And you must make some sort of noise, because your lips part to let in a gasp of air, causing his body to twist in a sudden defensive stance, clenching the toy so tight with a ‘caught’ pose. You go to move and the door spills open completely, slamming back into his dresser and shaking old sports trophies. You’re panting, seeking out the words to apologize, Steve is wincing from how hard he still is, attempting to cover his modesty. But the air shifts in the room and you gain a boldness, a restlessness that won’t be satiated, nor a conscience satisfied if you don’t ask.

“Can I help you?” A customer service line from working at Scoops with him. But it comes naturally.

Steve, biting his lip, disheveled — he nods. And it’s happening. A tickling ease, a line crossed.

“C’mhere.” He’s waving with his opposite hand. His ribcage expands as he gulps in lungfuls of air.

You’re at his side shortly, shyly. “W-what do you need me to do?”

His spare hand pushes back through his hair, amber gaze gone to a midnight sky, teeth milky white, defined jawline covered in stubble, and a perfect nose. His voice is raspy when he lets you know what he needs.

“Go get on my bed, lay back for me. Please?”

A fucking gentleman.

All of your clothes feel too tight, smothering you as you lay back on his bed, his pillow immediately invading you. Your hands are unsure of where to go, but he approaches slowly, kneeling his way into kneeling by your feet. “I’m gonna… Can I use this between your legs, honey? You don’t have to do anything, just let me do all the work.” He motions to the toy and you want nothing more, suddenly offered the world.

It’s your turn to say it now. “C’mhere.”

He’s using that enriched tendon covered forearm to prop himself up beside of your head, slotting right between your knees, his remaining hand wrapped so tightly around the toy that his skin is pulled taunt over his knuckles. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, releases it, licks it, and then he’s asking, “Can I?”

“Go. Do what you need to do. I’m right here, Steve.”

If you thought the toy was loud before, the sound of him working his lengthy girth through its walls right in front of you now — it’s surround sound. You’re watching, unable to help it, bones threaten to be dusted to ash from how hard your heart is ramming beneath your breastbone.

“Wanted to come over, but it’s been a shit week, an even shitter day. And I just needed to —“

“— Release some tension, right? I get it, I do it too. I have a cock that goes… I —“ you stop your horny rambling, face feeling too much warmed.

Steve’s face scrunches, teeth gritting, and he twists the toy until slowing it almost completely. “Tell me what you do. You fuck yourself with it, right? When everything is too much and not enough? Fuck, honey.”

He doesn’t verbalize, but you don’t either, simply accept the toy and hold it against your denim covered cunt, leaving Steve’s hands free to hold on either side of you, his nose nudging yours as he leans down — here, present. You copy his earlier motions, using the toy to glide along his length as he thrusts into it with a new focussed vigor. “That’s it. You feel so good, honey. Workin’ me so right.”

“I’m soaking — fucking — wet for you, Steve. Just so you know.”

His hips stutter and his nose finds its way into your eyelashes, cheek pressing into your own. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum into this thing, and I want —“

“— You want what, Steve?” You hold your breath.

He answers without fear or pause. “You.”

// Eat me paragraph //

[morganbritton132]

Adding onto Steve's crime spree from this (and this and this)

Eddie has determined that he's not asking the right questions in life.

Is he questioning the man? Yes. Every day.

Is he asking Wayne for help when his van shits the bed on Thursday? No. When his van is still unusable come Saturday, did he ask his friends if he could catch a ride to band practice? No.

Did he ask if he could get a ride home? Also no.

It's raining and Eddie regrets his life choices so hard, he doesn't notice the Porsche 928 until it blows through the crosswalk he was about to step onto. He's hit with a tidal wave of frigid early November street water because, of course, he is.

"Fuck's sake," Eddie swore, pushing his wet hair out of his face. In his perphery, the Porche slams on its breaks and rolls back into the crosswalk beside him, but he barely notices. Talking to the driver, the world, or god, Eddie does not know when he rants, "Thanks! Thanks for that, I really need pnumonia. Thanks for bestowing-"

"Sorry, man," Steve says, an apologetic wince sticking out of the open window of the Porche. "Wanna ride? I can take you where you're going."

Eddie looks at the car, then at Steve, and then back at the car and signs, "...Fine, but only because this car is beautiful and not to expunge your guilt."

"Dude, I don't think a sponge is going to help."

Eddie rolls his eyes but sticks his guitar in the trunk before sliding into the passenger seat. He has to physically stop himself from touching everything. He's never even seen a Porche before, wow.

Steve's in the driver's seat looking like he's dying for Eddie to ask about the car so he can talk about it. Honestly, Eddie wants to ask about the car. He probably should have asked about the car but instead, he shakes the water out of his hair like a dog as payback.

"C'mon, man," Steve complains, wiping the water off his face. "Watch the leather."

Eddie gives him directions and then bites the bullet. He asks the wrong question, "You trade in the Beamer?"

"No way. That's my baby," He says. "I'm just borrowing this lady."

The conversation is actually nice. None of Eddie's friends know anything about cars but Steve seems to know a lot. He can almost forgive the guy for being a jock and the psychological warfare he's bestowed onto Eddie's brain the past week and a half, but then-

“It sounds like - shit," Eddie says, echoing the same sentiment as Steve at the sight of flashing red and blue lights in the rear view. A question he should've been asking all along occurs to him, "Did you steal this car?"

Steve gives him an annoyed look and then rolls down his window, smiling that All-American smile, "Heya, Hop. Didn't think you were working today."

"This car was reported stolen."

Eddie swears, sinking into the leather with the hopes that it eats him. Steve doesn't even hesitate, "Let me guess, Mrs. Woolledge? Crazy she knows what all her neighbors are doing but not that her kid's on dope."

Hopper doesn't say anything and the silence is loud so Steve adds, "It's not stolen. It's my dad's car. I have permission."

"From your dad?" Hopper asks, getting an annoyed nod from Steve. "Same dad that's out of town?"

"Well, Hop. There's this thing called a phone."

"You get that MRI...right? Throw the keys out the window," Hopper says. Eddie's mentally preparing on how he's going to explain this to Wayne when he calls from jail. Steve protests. Hopper demands, "Throw. The keys. Out. The. Window. Now."

Steve seems to realize that he's pushing his luck because he does just that. He even gets out of the car when Hopper tells him to. Hopper tells him to get in his truck and Steve straight up lies, "Hop, I'm taking my friend home. We're working on a school project together. At his house.”

Eddie curses Steve's entire bloodline from start to finish when Hopper lookings directly at him still in the car, "That true?"

Say no. Say you don't know him. Say you know nothing. Say anything but, "Yes."

"What subject?'

"History," Steve says at the same time Eddie says 'Art' and then rolls his eyes, "Art history, yeah?"

Hopper nods like he thinks they're full of shit and then tells them both to get in his truck.

Steve protests but more about leaving the car on the street than anything else while Eddie briefly thinks about the psychic his mom used to know. He wonders if she could curse someone for real. Maybe he can call her from jail.

He's fully ready to see the police station that he fails to realize where Hopper's going until they’re in Forest Hills. He turns and looks at both of them and says, "I'd like to know what grade you get on this project."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Steve says with a salute, pulling Eddie out of the car. Once they're inside, Steve peaks out the blinds like, "Yeah, he'll sit there for a while. He thinks I'm lying. Wanna smoke?"

Eddie is baffled, "No."

"Okay," Steve shrugs and flops down on the couch. He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and adds, "Spare key. We just gotta wait until he's gone and can circle back for your guitar."

The only thing Eddie can think is, “what the fuck” and he doesn’t even know which part he’s talking about.

[sunniepoo]

Hii sweetie 🫶🏻 I was wondering if you could write something about stepbro!rafe teaching her stepsis about sex and stuff, telling her it's normal to do this thing and everything.. thanks in advance love!!

ugh yess!!thinking about this being a post-sex convo where you start feeling guilty about it and he has to manipulate reassure you

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

you’ve always has an inkling that what you had been doing with your stepbrother was wrong and despite how good he made you feel, how far he made your eyes roll back - there was always a little voice in your head discouraging you; telling you that this wasn’t right

‘th-this is all natural-’ he would ramble, going on about how this is his role and purpose as the man of the house, making sure that you knew all of this and how ‘no one else would understand’

it was hard because as much as you trust rafe’s word, you couldn’t ignore the pit in your stomach, after every long night of him pounding into your cunt, nagging at you that this was disgusting - you were disgusting

and that’s how you found your usual bubbly demeanour gone as the older boys large amount of seed drips out of you, coating your thighs with pale white colour - the warm liquid reminding you of your shame or lack of. you didn’t even register the presence of rafe’s large figure slowly cleaning you up, how could he be so casual?

“what s’mthin wrong?” he queries, large palms coming up to massage your sore body, confused by the sudden change in atmosphere “hm? c’mon kid you gotta talk if you want me to help”

“d’you feel like we’re doing something wrong….something bad” the question blankets the room, clouding the room with a sense of uncertainty

“what” the older cameron deadpans, response coming out more icy than you expected “wh-what wh-where is this coming from…what are you even talking about” eyebrows furrowing with every word, showing his clear confusion and worry, mind lingering on the question ‘why are you having second thoughts?’

“just feels like this is wrong sometimes” hands reaching up to rub at your forehead, eyes planted at the side of the bed “why are you saying this,did someone say something…..hm?” he was stressed now, not at the idea of you two getting caught but more so the idea of you backing out of this situation he had carefully established

“no no no… no one’s said anything,no one knows, just feel like this whole things a bit wrong sometimes - like i should be ashamed for doing this…for doing you”

the room falls into a moment of silence, the blonde in front trying to process what you’ve just said, he can’t help but smirk a little, lips curling upward- you’re worried about being a dirty little girl, it was laughable to him because you don’t understand it like he does, you’re his dirty little girl

“look… this-“ he begins, one hand waving between the two of you signaling his words,as he sits beside you “i-it’s complicated, and people won’t understand cause they j-just can’t think like we do, but what we have- it’s normal”

“without me to teach you all of this kid, shiit, you’d be lost” words coming out with a breathy laugh “you’d be stuck with some loser who wouldn’t know what he’s doing, leaving you all wet and needy” you nearly flinched at the way his hand traced up your thigh fingers toying around with your sensitive clit, causing you to grab his wrists

he shrugs you off with ease, fingers continuing their teasing motion “y’wouldn’t like that, would you kid” you were so so sensitive, his hands causing you to whine and squirm “n-no rafey” your words come out with a moan “yeah you see that’s why i’m here, to teach you - fill my role as a good stepbrother to you..m’kay” and before you could respond, one fingers already made its way knuckles deep into you, torturing your already worn out cunt

“now why don’t we have another lesson?”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[yawnderu]

MDNI. p in v penetration, hardcore sex, choking, wrestling, punching, biting, nosebleed, scratching, creampie. Keegan calls anyone younger than him ''kid''.

“Give up, kid.” Your body thrashes underneath him, trying to get out of the rough headlock he put you in. Your closed fist slams against his leg multiple times, only making him apply more pressure, not letting you go even when your nails dig deeper and deeper into his skin.

“Fuck you... cunt.” You barely manage to mutter through gritted teeth, black dots appearing in your vision the harder he chokes you. He keeps your neck pressed against his bicep and forearm, flexing the muscle, sickly getting off on the way your loud gasps and whines ring around the training room.

The pressure in your face grows stronger by the second, loud gasps leaving your lips once he finally lets go, pushing your smaller body out of the way.

“If you're struggling that much, this isn't the place for you.” He spits out, clearly wanting a reaction out of you— and a reaction he gets the moment your elbow connects to his face, putting as much force as you can in hurting him, even if you have to play dirty.

Keegan's rough, calloused hand goes up to his nose the moment he feels warmth leaking down and the familiar taste of iron filling his mouth. He lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head softly and not even bothering to wipe down the blood staining his pale skin, letting it pool around his wife beater.

For anyone else, he'd look oddly unbothered by it, simply looking down at the floor and maybe even regretting being an asshole. For you? You know it's the calm before the storm, annoyance silently boiling inside him, slowly reaching its breaking point.

He licks his blood-stained lips before looking down at you, lifeless blue eyes simply staring for a few seconds, letting the silence linger simply to make you nervous.

Stubbornness and something else brew inside you the moment your eyes drift down, noticing the way his pants are tightening up, the outline of his thick cock showing more by the second. It's a subtle glance before your eyes meet his, yet by the annoying smirk on his lips, you can tell he knows.

You're stuck in a staring competition, refusing to give him the pleasure of letting him intimidate you the same way he does to everyone else. Keegan's stare may seem cold, yet you can see fire dancing in his baby-blue eyes, slowly coming to a breaking point. His lips crash against yours seconds later, rough hands opening your legs wide enough for his burly body to fit between them, his clothed hard cock rubbing against your pussy.

“Fuck you.” You repeat, pure venom in your tone despite the way your lips immediately go back to his. Keegan's tongue wraps around yours as his hand goes down to the hem of his pants, pulling out his cock with ease and laying it down on your stomach.

“Fuck me?” He whispers, letting out a dry chuckle at your vigorous nod. You don't need to look down to realize just how big Keegan's cock is, feeling the weight and warmth of it spreading all over your stomach, not protesting even when he rips your shorts and panties off of you, leaving them hanging on your ankle.

“Yeah... fuck you.” The way you're as stubborn as a mule even when he can see your exposed, sopping cunt almost makes him laugh, yet he doesn't need to be told twice. His leaking tip rubs against your folds, your slick and his precum mixing for a few seconds before he lines himself up, entering your needy cunt with a hard thrust. Your moans and gasps are silenced by his lips, barely even giving you time to get used to his meaty cock before he's slamming into you, shoving himself as deep as possible.

The disagreements you had in the past are slowly being pulled out of your brain with each hard thrust, silently surrendering as your velvety walls clench around him, the lewd sounds of muffled moans and your wet cunt being roughly fucked form a symphony, bouncing off the walls of the empty training room.

“This what you needed? To be fucked stupid by a big cock?” Keegan's sarcastic tone leaves you breathless, another whiny moan leaving your lips when his hips slam faster against yours, his meaty thighs ramming against your ass. His hands grip your waist tightly as he hammers into your needy cunt, short nails digging into your flesh with an intensity born of his own desires.

“Fuck— I'm sorry, kid.” His pathetic excuse of an apology is clearly fake, leaving you confused until you feel his teeth sinking into your shoulder, muffling the deep moans leaving his lips the moment he can feel his muscles tightening up, moving faster and harder inside you. You let out a pained groan, nails sinking deep into his muscular back, dragging them down in an attempt at dealing with the overwhelming sensation of his fat cock hitting your cervix over and over.

Keegan is about to pull out before your legs wrap around his waist, bringing him closer and closer until he lets out a deep grunt, hips stuttering as his cock throbs, shooting endless ropes of thick cum right into your needy, tight walls, making sure to shove himself as deep as possible while your cunt instinctively milks him dry.

His heavy body collapses over yours, trembling with the aftermath of your intense encounter. His heart races in his chest as he basks into the sensation of having empty balls and a warm body underneath him— despite the way your palm is connecting with his ribs harshly.

“Get off of me.” Your protests go ignored, letting out a loud sigh when you hear snores right against your ear.

[nonbinarywannabepreggo]

Today, he drained his balls deep inside of my womb 3 times. I reminded him that the IUD was still uneffective right after he came. His answer was to pin me down and fuck me more, harder, telling me to moan like the little bitch I am. Telling me I was his little girl to use as a cumdump. Then he suddenly stopped, told me I should run an errand and, if he was satisfied, he would finish. I couldn't just leave my master with his cock so hard and wet with cum, so I rode him until he could no longer stop and he put me down, with my ass slightly up, fucking me from behind and making sure that ropes of thick baby batter flooded my insides and stayed there, possibly making a mommy. He made cockwarm for a while, to keep his cum on its rightful place: inside my pink sopping wet pussy, knocking me up. Then I went to run the errand, still with his cum making a mess of my boxers.

I told him I wanted so bad to be a mommy, so he ended up breeding me again when I got back, this time holding my legs up and making me cum only after him. He usually makes me cum before and after inseminating me, to make extra sure his swimmers will have all the best chances of taking root and making me swell. But sometimes, he just want to dump his load.

We both know we can't afford a baby, but there's something so animalistic bonding us, this deep urge of reproduction... I can't wait to be so vulnerable, so big... I can't wait to feel hours and hours of pain on delivery, knowing that this is only a fair price for begging you to bottom out inside me, to get me pregnant. And I know we won't stop at baby #1. I want to have all the babies I can have. I want to be always pregnant with your children. I want to be branded always as "your little fertile trannyboy slut". I want every man to envy you for turning me into a breeding bitch, and every girl to envy me and all the kids you're going to pump into me

[bigassmoonchild]

Lost

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's not the first time you've plummeted into another timeline. It is the first time in years that you've met a Deadpool still doing the anti-hero (vigilante?) thing. And unfortunately for you, you're stuck with him.

Content Tags: DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS! I'm being so serious, this entire series is going to be stock-full of spoilers for that movie. Some mentions of blood, lots of cursing (as expected). No use of Y/N

A/N: I promise I'm working on stuff, work just has had me super busy the last few weeks (months if I'm being more honest) and school is coming up soon for me :(. Anyways. I wanna lick Logans abs. This is hopefully gonna be a slow burn ;)

(p.s. lmk if you wanna be added to a tag list in the future)

(p.p.s. this is mostly story building with a tad bit of plot)

(p.p.p.s. i'm trying to write in a less past tense style, forgive if that changes throughout the story, im so fuckin delirious)

It’s jarring. Every single time it happens is so jarring. It’s almost like getting whiplashed with how hard you are pulled backwards and then your stomach drops; it feels as though you’re falling. The same sensation you get right before you fall asleep, like your body can’t tell if you’re still alive.  

You’ve never been thrown so forcefully out of it. Usually you land, stumbling on your feet. This time, though, you’re thrown onto your back. Your skull cracks against the pavement underneath you and it feels like all the air has been forced out of your body.  

“Fuuuuck,” it feels pushed out of your body, your chest heaving in short gasps. Rolling onto your side, all you can see in front of you is the street. Whatever Earth you’ve landed on, it doesn’t seem like it’s good.  

There’s blood splattered everywhere, cars and buses are on their sides or flipped over. Glass is scattered on the streets. Maybe you just arrived right after the battle of New York, maybe this world has been abandoned.  

You struggle to your feet, stumbling and catching yourself before standing fully upright. You can feel the warmth of some blood on your back before the skin reconnects, leaving behind the burn of cement rash.  

Behind you, there’s panting. It’s heavy and sounds almost wet. Turning, you look at two men who were behind you. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,”  

... 

You tried walking away. Removing yourself from the situation like the adult you were, but no. It wasn’t working. You never got more than a few feet away from the two before being teleported back within their range.  

The two men, Deadpool and the poor Wolverine stuck with him, just watched for some time. Deadpool was oddly quiet through most of it, although you can almost hear the monologue in his thoughts, his head following as you walked in different directions before snapping to where you appeared. Dogpool, the ugly thing, sat in the arms of its alternate person just panting heavily. It never stopped panting.  

You huff angrily, throwing your back against the wall right next to Wade. Crossing your arms, you look down at Mary Puppins sitting in his arms. She went cross eyed while looking up at you, staring blankly at the wall next to you and yourself.  

“Who shit in your biscuit this morning?” Wade asks you, head tilting slightly. You have to brace yourself and breathe deeply to make sure you don’t roll your eyes. You never realized how thankful you were that your home Earths Deadpool ended up in the void before you even knew what abilities you had.  

Glancing down at him with just your eyes, you find that he still hasn’t looked away. “Whoever the hell sent me here, that’s who,” you respond. There’s pain in your voice, you can hear up, but also the utter annoyance that most Deadpool's just bring. “Didn’t know the Wolverine on this world was still alive,” you nod your head towards Logan like you’re gesturing to him.  

It’s quiet. You’ve somehow silenced Wade Wilson, the merc with a mouth. You watch his chest expand in a deep inhale and it caves back in as he exhales deeply.  

“He isn’t,” and your brows furrow. Other than the TVA, you don’t know any other casual dimension jumper. Even they were a stretch, you know, they didn’t deserve to be able to do that.  Somehow, they were able to master it. You think he can see the confusion on your face as your eyes flit back and forth between them. Logan’s still eating whatever it is he had in his hand. “The TVA,” he takes a breath, and you have to interrupt. 

“Why did they bring him here?” You shake your head, brows furrowing further.  

Wade shifts his head side to side. “They didn’t bring him here, sunshine,” his voice perks up. “I did,” and he has the widest smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  

“I don’t,” you pause and rub your face, looking down at the ground. “I don’t even wanna know why or how,”  

“’Cause I'm Marvel Jesus,” is his quick quip back. He stands suddenly, his back popping and cracking as he stretches himself. “Alrighty, Peanut, let’s get going home,” he says to Logan (maybe it was to Mary Puppins, you’ve got no idea), and there’s a little pep in his step. “C’mon puppy!” Wade calls and you get yanked again and appear just a few feet ahead of him.  

With a roll of his eyes, Logan stands and tosses his food off to the side. “I’m going to go figure things out on my own,” he says. Turning away, you watch as Logan walks off from the two of you and you hope to whatever being is out there that you get pulled along with him, but he isn’t able to make it more than a few steps before Wade starts talking again. 

“Oh no you don’t! I’ve waited far too long for this meetup!” Wade calls out, and you see Logan stop in his tracks. His shoulders slump, almost like he’s struggling with a decision he’s about to make. “Blind Al isn’t all she’s cocained up to be, we need a third in our little house of horrors,” he snickers a little. 

You’re really hoping it doesn’t last forever, but when you finally make the trek to Wades apartment that feeling almost vanishes (almost). It’s homey, although the apartment itself is small and cramped with two people already there. You’ve met a few Als before, but only a small number of them weren’t blind. 

It was only in passing though. You could recognize that woman anywhere. Her eyes were always a striking feature, and the few who weren’t blind always carried this sort of knowledge within them as they followed you when you walked by them.  

This Al seemed sweet, although listening to Wade tell you about her was a little odd. You couldn’t fully tell if he was joking about her being able to see cocaine, but there’s been worse you’ve interacted with.  

Speaking of worse, Logan would not let you out of his sight at all thus far. You could feel his eyes boring down on your back the entire walk to the apartment, and even when you got inside and completely ignored everything Wade was saying (a lot of it was just telling you and Logan about the apartment and what to not touch, oddly enough) he would not let you leave his sight.  

Even just checking out what type of T.V this world had to offer left you with his stare. You begin to browse their small selection of DVD’s when you finally speak up. 

“Might wanna take a picture,” it was quiet, but you knew he could hear you. “It’ll last you longer,” but there was no response. Usually, it was the Bucky Barnes of the Earth that had the staring problem, it had never been the Wolverines.  

They always made their problems with you obvious. They’d never pulled this type of behavior, and it was strange. For the first time in years, you had someone act strange and you couldn’t figure out how to go about confronting it.  

“Who’re you?” Logan finally spoke up, quieting Wade in the middle of his rant.  

You swallow thickly. “I’m not the person you think I am,” and you cringe internally. It always sounded dumb when you said it, but you never knew what else to say. Who knows if there’s another you in this world, or maybe even Logans. “Whoever I am, or was, to you? That’s not who I am,” but you’d never met another one of you.  

There’s the thud of glass on wood, it's thick and there’s no way that it isn’t a beer bottle.  “I’ve never met you in my life. Have you?” Assuming he was talking to Wade, you turn as best as you can while still crouched in front of the TV to look at him.  

He’s shrugging, opening his mouth for a response before Logan beats him to it. “What the hell is it that you can do, anyways? Are you a mutant? Or just another fucked up creation by a government?” You bark a laugh.  

“I’m just one of God’s fucked up mistakes, that’s what,” and you look down with a sigh, shaking your head. “I really don’t know. My world didn’t have mutants, not like others do. It was always some botched work done by doctors in basements,” Wade looks appalled.  

His eyes find some spot on the wall, and he smiles at it. “It’s like looking into a mirror. Although a lot less ballsackey and not as interesting,” you have to shake your head.  

Logan clears his throat. “What do you mean, your world didn’t have mutants,” you smile at him.  

“My timeline doesn’t exist anymore,”