#and not even smutty

[achilles-rage]

Cherry

summary: after putting out a small kitchen fire at a bar, the bar owner offers buck a night of fun. when presented with his girls, he chooses you.

word count: 4.5k (oops)

a/n: this idea came to me in a dream after i read @spidermans-l-o-v-e-r ‘s glory hole fic, and i wrote this in one sitting. i have no idea what came over me but i was feral for this idea. thank you for posting your fic, it was delicious and i loved it<33 i had no intention of posting something today because i’ve already posted 2 days in a row and have more coming the next 2 days, but i felt the need to share this immediately after i finished. enjoy<3

warnings: smut, big titty reader (self indulgent, sue me<3), mentions of abuse (nothing graphic), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ Only!

Buck has absolutely no idea how he got here; how he got messed up in all of this. He’s standing in the large back room of an old bar in downtown LA, with ten women presented in front of him. His choice.

Earlier in the week, his team responded to a call here. When they finally put out the small fire in the kitchen, the owner had told him to come back later in the week for free drinks and a good time, and who is he to turn down free drinks?

He wasn’t expecting this, though; ten of the owner’s “girls” standing in a line in front of him. “Free for the night,” the owner had said.

His eyes had immediately been drawn to you when you walked in with the rest of the line. You were much different than the rest of the girls. While the rest had their heads up, giving him bright, flirty smiles, your face remained angled towards the floor. When they all stopped and faced him, you kept your head down; he could hardly even see your face.

Even so, he was drawn to your plush figure.

While the rest of the girls were slimmer, showing off lots of skin, you had opted for a pink long sleeve shirt. You were wearing a black miniskirt, and some god awful heels almost identical to the rest of the girls that the owner of the bar had told Buck “really shows them off,” and a pink long sleeve shirt low-cut enough that Buck could see your large tits practically spilling out of your bra.

He almost feels bad standing here. He’s never done anything like this before, but who is he to turn down a warm cunt for the night?

“So, who will it be?” the owner asks, a smirk on his face as he watches Buck taking in all his girls.

Buck begins to walk towards the girls, hands behind his back as his eyes travel the length of the line up. Then, he stops in front of you, but once again, you keep your head down. Surely he wants one of the girls beside you.

You’re surprised when he uses a finger to gently raise your gaze up to his, and your knees almost buckle. It’s the softest anyone’s touched you in months.

“You wanna come with me, sweetheart?” he asks you in a soft voice, and you swallow quickly before nodding your head. He’s gorgeous.

“Yes.”

He grins, then takes your hand and pulls you back towards where he was previously standing beside the owner of the bar. He gives him a smile while you stand almost behind him, eyes trained on his broad shoulders and muscular back.

“You sure you want that one?” the owner says, and you blink slowly, trying to fight back tears threatening to spill as you force your eyes down to the floor again. He’s always treated you like this, but you don’t have any other choice but to stay.

“Positive.” Buck replies smugly, fighting the urge to glare at the man’s condescending tone. He looks over his shoulder at you, and all he sees is a sweet little thing that he’s not sure he’s going to want to let go at the end of the night. How could the other man see anything different?

With that, the owner of the bar waves a hand, and the rest of the girls file out and go back out to the main area of the bar to pick up men, and Buck leads you out of the bar with his hand on the small of your back.

“Are you okay?” he asks once you’re out on the street and walking towards his car parked down the street. You furrow your brows, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“What do you mean?” He tilts his head, raising a brow before his eyes move down to your feet. You’re almost limping in the heels you’re wearing, but they’re what you have to wear, so you shake your head quickly.

“Oh, I’m fine. Part of the uniform.” you try to joke, but he isn’t having it. It almost pains him to see you in pain. In one swift movement, he pulls you towards him and lifts you into his arms, one arm under your legs and the other behind your back. You squeal, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your throat. He looks strong, sure, but you didn’t think he'd actually be able to lift you. You didn’t think he’d actually do it, either. It’s not like he has to be nice to you.

Once you’re in the car, he drives you to a hotel not too far from the bar. He doesn’t want to scare you by taking you to his house; as much as he wants to see you sprawled out on his bed, so he opts for the nicest hotel close to the bar.

Your eyes widen in surprise when you see the hotel he’s chosen. You’re not used to anything like this. You’re used to dingy motels, or the bathroom in the bar, or if you’re lucky, the backseat of a nice car. But never this.

He keeps an arm around your waist as he pays for the room, and he kisses the back of your hand when he grabs it to lead you up to the 3rd floor, keeping your hand firmly in his the whole way up.

When you get to the room and the door is firmly closed behind you, Buck steps further into the room, setting the key card, his wallet, and his keys on the dresser. You follow behind him slowly, then in one swift movement, lift your shirt over your head. You know what you’re here for, as much as his sweet actions make butterflies swarm your tummy.

His eyes widen when he turns back to you, his eyes darting down to steal a quick glance at your large tits practically teasing him in your see through lace bra. He closes the distance between you, grabbing your hands as you let go of your shirt and let it fall to the ground.

“Hey, no, wait. If it’s okay, I wanna talk first. Haven’t really done this before.” he tells you, his admission coming out a little softer than the beginning of his sentence. He feels a little weird about what he’s walked himself into, and he wants to know more about you before splitting you open on his cock.

“Sorry.” you tell him sheepishly. You bite your lip as you watch him shake his head.

“Don’t apologize, baby. Here, let’s get you out of those shoes first, yeah?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he gets down on one knee, kneeling in front of you and placing his hand on the back of your calf to urge you to raise your leg. You hold one of his shoulders as you lift one foot off the grounf, feeling your whole body heat up as you watch him take one shoe off, and then the other.

You let out a sigh when your feet hit the soft carpet, thankful to finally be out of those damn shoes. He smiles when he stands up, noticing that you’ve already relaxed a little more.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper. You give him a sheepish smile, shrugging as your eyes move down to your chest.

“He calls me Cherry.” you murmur when you look back up at him, a hint of a frown on your pretty lips. He tilts his head to the side, and he almost laughs at the name, knowing exactly where it came from.

His eyes glance back down at your heavy tits, getting a better look now that he’s standing directly in front of you. He can see the beginning of a cherry tattoo beneath your bra, right in the valley of your breasts, and he sighs. From the way the owner of the bar was treating you earlier, he’s half convinced that he’s made you get that tattoo, and you’re not very happy about the nickname.

“What’s your real name?” he asks softly, eyes darting back up to meet yours. His hand moves to your cheek, caressing it gently, and you chew the inside of your cheek nervously as you hesitate. No names. That was one of the first rules he had given you. But even so, your name is on the tip of your tongue, threatening to fall from your lips.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to tell me, it just doesn’t seem like you like that nickname very much.” he urges you gently. His eyes search yours as you stay quiet for a moment, and then, you tell him. Your voice is barely audible, but he heard you loud and clear, and a smile breaks onto his face.

He repeats it, and you nod, a small smile forming on your face.

With the way he’s looking at you, you can’t help but feel admired, and beautiful. That’s why you’re not surprised when the next words that tumble from your mouth are “kiss me, please.”

He smirks before he brings your lips to his, a hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your head up into the kiss and the other on your plush hip. His thumb gently moves across your hip as he kisses you gently, and while his grip is firm on your jaw, his kiss is soft and tender, which makes your head spin.

As his tongue pushes past your lips and begins to explore your mouth, you kiss him harder, teeth clicking together and breathing becoming heavy as both of your hands move to his cheeks. When one of his hands slides down to your ass and squeezes, it’s like a switch flips, and you’re quick to flip him around and walk him back towards the bed.

You break the kiss as you push him to sit on the edge of the bed, and then you kneel in front of him, hands going to his pants as you keep your eyes on his. Another rule: make sure the customer is pleased. When you’re at a motel and it’s clear he’s in no rush, use your mouth first, and then let him fuck you.

You’re surprised when his hands come out to stop you from undoing his belt, and your eyes are wide as you look up at his face.

“Whoa, wait a minute. What are you doing?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. He’s surprised by your sudden switch up, and while his cock twitches at the thought of your mouth around him, he sees the way your face changed. He notices the way your eyes almost become glossed over and unfocused, almost as if you’re on autopilot, like this is merely a job for you. Of course, he knows it is, but he doesn’t want you to wrap your lips around his cock unless you actually want to.

“Isn’t this what you want?” you ask, a little unsure. You’re feeling a little self conscious now. You’ve never had a man turn something like this down, and your insecurities from earlier about why he would choose you enter your mind again.

“Honestly, all I want right now is to taste you.” he tells you earnestly, and you look down, trying to hide the smile on your face. “But first, I want to ask you a question.”

You look back up at him, nodding slowly. He can see the insecurities inside of you, they’re practically written across your face. It’s the same look you had back at the bar.

“How long have you been doing this?” he asks. He hopes he hasn’t crossed a line, but with the way you don’t look away, he’s sure he hasn’t. Of course the answer doesn’t really matter to him, he’s just curious.

“A few weeks.” you reply with a shrug. He smiles, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“And how many times has someone picked one of the other girls over you?” He can’t fathom someone picking another girl over the soft, sweet thing kneeling in front of him. He had his pick, for Christ sake; all of the girls looked eager to leave with him, and he still picked you.

“A couple.” you admit sheepishly, feeling embarrassed at your admission. It’s happened more than a couple times, but you don’t want to admit that to him. Most of the time, it seems like the men want one of the more experienced girls, or one that’s easier to throw around.

“Can’t imagine why. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” he murmurs, eyes studying your face as a smile erupts on your face. “Can I taste you now? Please?”

You nod, and that’s all it takes for Buck to stand up, help you to your feet and then push you onto the bed, in the same position you just had him in.

He yanks your skirt and panties down in one go as you lift your hips off the bed, and then he puts a large hand over your soft tummy, pushing you to lay back.

He spreads your legs enough for his broad shoulders to fit between, and then he begins placing feather-light kisses to your inner thighs as his arms loop around your legs to hold you in place.

You watch him with a heaving chest as his lips make their way to your dripping core, sitting up on your elbows to ensure you have a view of him between your thick thighs.

As soon as he makes eye contact with you, he gives you a smirk, then dives into your cunt, licking and sucking greedily as he lets out a low groan.

“Taste so sweet, baby. Like heaven.” he moans against your folds, although you can barely hear him. You fall back down onto your back, your hands gripping the sheets as his tongue darts in and out of you slowly, his nose nudging at your clit deliciously with each movement.

He grunts as he notices your hands beside you, and he unhooks one arm from your thigh to grab your wrist, moving your hand to the back of his head. You whimper softly as your fingers weave through his hair, but you don’t pull it; you’re not sure what exactly he wants.

His arms loops back around your thigh again, keeping his face pressed as close to you as possible as he switches between suctioning to your clit and drawing lazy circles around it with his tongue. When he notices that your hand is merely placed on his head, however, he grunts again, unlooking his arm from around you and diving two fingers into your dripping cunt. You moan loudly as he curls his fingers against that spot inside of you, you back almost lifting off the bed as you squirm. Your grip tightens on his hair as he sucks on your clit at the same time, and when he lets out a low moan, you realize that he likes when you pull his hair.

You pull his hair a little harder, and you can feel the pit in your belly growing bigger as you get closer and closer to the edge.

In a few moments, you’re falling apart against him, whimpering loudly as he continues his movements, working you through your orgasm. When he finally pulls away, he straightens up, beaming at you as you raise back up onto your elbows, chest heaving.

“So good for me, sweetheart.” he purrs, and you watch him as he stands up, towering over you. “You think you can take my cock now?”

You nod quickly, and he smirks as his hands move down to his belt. You notice the tent in his pants as he undoes his belt, and then his jeans, and your eyes widen at the size of him as he pulls his pants and boxers down.

Your mouth is watering as he steps out of his pants and then lifts his shirt over his head, and he feels his ego soar as he takes in your eager expression.

He wastes no time crawling on top of you, letting you move up the bed to rest your head on the pillow as he goes. He kneels between your legs as he straightens up, now that you’re where he wants you, and grabs your hands to make you sit up. Once you do, one of his hands moves to the back of your bra and unhooks it easily. He slides the straps down your shoulders and moans when your heavy tits bounce slightly, finally free from your bra.

“If I didn’t want you so bad right now, I’d fuck those pretty tits first.” he purrs. You whimper softly as you bite your lip, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.

“Please.” you whisper, and he lowers himself back onto you, holding himself up with his hands on either side of your head as he begins to grind against you.

“Please, what? Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” he tells you, and you trail your hands down his chest, desperate to feel him.

“Fuck me. Please.” He smirks, giving you a chaste kiss before he reaches down to grab his cock. He looks down as he lines himself up with your entrance, then slowly pushes past your folds, groaning as he feels your greedy cunt stretch around him.

“God, baby. So tight.” he murmurs into your ear, his face beside yours and his lips grazing your neck. You whimper as he stretches you out, feeling slightly overwhelmed as he keeps bullying himself further into your sopping cunt, inch by inch.

Once he’s buried himself to the hilt, he moves his hips back and then snaps them back against yours, testing. When you throw your head back in pure ecstasy, he repeats his actions, thrusting into you eagerly as he kisses your neck. You keep a hand on the back of his neck as he fucks you, fingers finding the hair on the back of his head and pulling it gently.

He whispers sweet praises as his lips continue down from your neck to your collarbone, and then to your tits. He kisses around one breast, then brings your nipple into his mouth, using one of his hands to roughly squeeze and tug on your other breast.

“Such gorgeous tits, baby. Beautiful girl.” he whispers against your skin, and your back arches off the bed at all the attention he’s giving your body.

His thrusts are strong, and when he uses one of his legs to hike your leg up to his waist, you whimper loudly, your fingers tugging on his hair as he hits the spot that makes you see stars.

“How many times you say they’ve picked another girl?” he asks in a low voice, and in your bliss, you barely even register what he’s asking.

“A lot.” you answer truthfully, too cock drunk to lie.

“God, they’re missing out. Such a sweet little pussy. And all mine, isn’t that right?” he asks, lifting his head and looking down to see that you’re struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Yes.” is all you can get out, but that’s all he wants to hear. He continues with his rough thrusts, and after a couple more, he’s twitching inside of you, balls tightening as he teeters on the edge.

“You gonna cum with me, pretty girl? Cum on my cock?” he asks, and you nod as your hands move to his shoulders. You can feel your high quickly approaching, and your nails dig into his shoulders when his fingers start to rub circles over your clit, sloppy and eager.

He feels you clench around him, and he groans, having to close his eyes before he cums too soon.

“Cum for me, baby.” With these words, you’re squeezing your eyes shut as your body goes tense. He tuts, bringing his hand away from your clit and tapping your face lightly, urging you to open your eyes.

When you finally do, he cums hard, hot white release filling you up and threatening to leak out of your pulsing cunt.

You look up at him as he lets go, watching his face contorting in pleasure, and you can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. He practically collapses on you as you both try to catch your breath, and he presses soft kisses to your neck and chest as you both come down from your high. A few minutes later, he pulls out with a groan, watching your mixed releases drip down your thighs and onto the clean sheets.

He gets up and goes to the bathroom, then comes back with a damp cloth, cleaning up what’s dripped out of you and onto the bed. He throws it to the side, then lays beside you, urging you to lay your head on his chest. For a minute, you both forget the situation, too blissed out to do anything but revel in each other’s company.

“What’s your name?” you ask, your mind finally coming back into focus. Usually, you couldn’t care less about the man’s name, but now, you need to know.

“Evan. Buckley. Buck.” he says slowly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You hum, nodding against his chest, but don’t say anything else. You’re perfectly content with laying her with Buck for as long as he’ll let you. You’re afraid that if you disturb the silence, he’ll tell you it’s time to go.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asks after a minute of silence, and you nod.

“How did you get into this?” You shrug, thinking for a moment. You’re not sure you should tell him.

Another rule: no personal details shared.

Even with his rules echoing through your mind, you feel like you have to tell him. He’s been so sweet, and you don’t think you can hold it in any longer. You haven’t told anyone else this.

“He’s my boyfriend. The owner. Thought he loved me, and I asked him for money to help pay rent because I lost my job. He gave it to me, but when I couldn’t pay him back quick enough, he told me to pay him back like this.” you tell him softly. His body tenses at your words. What the hell kind of boyfriend would make you do something like this to pay him back? He wants to storm back into that bar and beat him to a bloody pulp, but he knows that’s not exactly a good idea.

“How much?” he asks you softly, trying to keep his voice calm as he rubs your back gently.

“$800.” He scoffs at your words. $800 and he’s making you do this? You’ve been working a couple weeks; that’s what you said, and he can’t believe that you haven’t made him that money back yet.

“You’ve been working for weeks, and he still doesn’t have that money?” you sigh again, shrugging.

“There’s a place near the bar where he makes me live with some of the other girls. He takes the money I make and uses it for that too, so when I do make money, almost all of it goes to that.” You’re sure you’d be better off if you were more outgoing; more willing to go up to men in the bar rather than letting them come to you. You’d get much more money, probably. You’re much too shy to do that though, and you’re still not used to what you do.

He wants more than anything to get you out of this situation. He can tell that you’re less than happy about it, but he doesn’t know what to do. Then, an idea comes to him, and he speaks in a hopeful tone.

“Can I see you again?” he asks, and you smile, raising your head off his chest and looking up at him as you nod.

“Of course.” you reply, and he grins, leaning down to kiss you deeply.

You both fall asleep not long after that, and in the morning, he drives you back to the bar, but not before he gets your number.

Your arrangement goes on for months. You meet him once a week, sometimes twice, and after a month, you let him take you to his apartment. He’s easy to trust; and you know what he does for a living, so you don’t feel nervous at all when he pulls you into his apartment and pins you to the door, kissing down your neck.

He gives you money after each time too, far more than what he’s meant to pay you, but he insists. You try to argue, try to tell him that you can’t charge him anything, not when there’s feelings involved, but he doesn’t want to hear it.

He figures if he can give you enough money to pay back the $800 plus your current housing, you’d be able to leave and be with him, for real, sooner rather than later.

He’s surprised when there’s a knock on his door late one night, and his eyes widen when he sees you, teary eyed and a cut across your cheek.

“He won’t let me leave.” you whisper, and he’s quick to pull you into the safety of his apartment. He pulls you into a hug, shushing you as you cry into his chest. His body is tense as he thinks about your boyfriend, who he has just learned is now your ex as you babble into his chest about what happened, but he’s more focused on you.

He pulls you to the couch, and he listens as you restart your story, sniffling softly here and there and finally calming down now that you know you’re safe.

He listens to you tell him that you confronted him, asking him how much you still owe him, and about how he laughed in your face. He listens as you tell him that your ex boyfriend told you that your debt has been paid, but you’ve become good at what you do, and you bring in too much money for him to let go of you.

He clenches his fists as you tell him that when you tried to argue, he tried to force you into submission; pushing you against a wall and slapping you, resulting in the cut on your cheek.

He vows to protect you, that you’re safe with him now. He brings you up to bed, undressing you gingerly and pulling you against him as you both lay in bed. He kisses the back of your neck as you fall asleep, your back pressed tightly against his chest.

You’re never going back there again, he’ll make sure of it. He’ll find out where your things are, and go pick them up when your ex isn’t there, and you’ll stay with him from now on. You’re already his anyway, pretty much, so you’re his to protect. He’ll help you land on your feet, and when you’re ready, he’ll let you find your own place, but he hopes to anyone that will listen that you’ll stay with him. Forever.

the prequel

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[disgracefulthings]

MDZS fix-it AU where Shang Qinghua saves Wei Wuxian and the Wens from the burial mounds, for a price...

Shang Qinghua, handing WWX a contract: Just sign here and I will provide food and shelter for you and your people

Wei Wuxian: What's the catch. No one does anything for free

Shang Qinghua: I bring up what I'm owed in the third paragraph

Wei Wuxian, reading out loud: ...'Shang Qinghua, and only Shang Qinghua, has the right to write about Wei Wuxian's love life in any manner he sees fit.' Why would you want this?

Shang Qinghua: Look, are you going to sign it or what?

[arminsumi]

tutor!suguru being a flirt

GETO すぐる

note : a dumb calc daydream lol. i've been studying all night like a slut 🙄

warnings : 🔞 flirting/suggestive, not proofread written straight from the back of my mind lol but as kerouac said "youre a genius all the time" 🫡 hehe

tutor!suguru would be so smooth and sultry, but he'd also try hard to maintain a professionalism. i mean... he could sit there and flirt for a whole hour, but he genuinely wants to help you get better at whatever subject you're taking.

he's the mysterious quiet student type, you know, the one everyone is fascinated by. got that charm. that allure. that magnetism.

and those traits are very apparent when he sits next to you and watches you scratch your pen across a notebook.

"did i do it right?" you ask unsurely.

"yes, that's right..." he has a natural seduction in his tone, "trust your mind more."

he praises you sparingly, making sure each praise is laced with lusty undertones. he's trying to hint to you heyheyhey... i'm interested in you.

and tutor!suguru has such smooth dirty jokes that slip by you when you're so caught up in a textbook; "i'll tutor you in bed if you want."

"m'kay..." you hum happily, deep in the focused zone, then you snap with realization, "wait, what?!"

"haha, nothing." he chuckles at you, habitually hiding his smile behind his hand. "i didn't say anything. keep studying. focus."

"okay..." you return to studying.

he leans in close and watches you answer each question. glances at your face in his peripherals.

leans closer. closer. closer. and murmurs; "you're doing so good for me... keep going."

he chuckles again, watching your eyes widen in reaction to his obvious flirting. "sorry... sorry, haha... i'll shut up now."

© arminsumi

[auspicioustidings]

I am sure I must have yapped about this before but consider alpha Ghost who despises omegas. Roba was an omega and he used every bit of his biology against Ghost to try and break him. He just cannot be around omegas now, he hates it when any of his pack even smells like one from being out and about.

It means their pack beta Gaz gets treated like their omega to an extent. It's not like he hates it, it's nice that they want to spoil him, but he also wants to look after someone y'know? Everyone thought he'd present as an alpha when he was growing up and he still feels the instinct to protect those weaker than him. It maybe gets to him a little that he feels like an alpha, he is a beta and he gets treated like an omega.

He does not expect to present late. He certainly does not expect an omega scent match to be the thing that triggers it. You're everything he has ever wanted and he knows he will break Ghost's heart if he brings you home. So he doesn't.

You are rejected by your scent match and it hurts. You didn't realise how awful it would be, how much it would wreak havoc on your system. Alphas can reject a scent match and not be too affected but omegas? It is horrific.

Soap smells you on Gaz no matter how much he tries to hide it. His fucking scent match and Gaz is hiding them. The others were too distracted by Gaz's new alpha scent but Johnny always did have the best nose, and he is not going to let this go. He knows Ghost's feelings and he loves the man, but he will not ignore their omega to spare him from confronting his trauma.

You don't trust him when he tracks you down. Another scent match here to break your heart all over again? He's so upset at how sick you've gotten over it, gets to his knees and begs for a chance for his pack.

Only when you finally let him take you home, Ghost growls at you. One of your scent matched alphas growls at you. You want to die. You run away while Soap and him get into a shouting match.

You meet your last alpha while you are running. Price has no idea what is happening when you crash into him as he's walking the path to home. He never thought he'd have an omega. A scent match at that? It's more than he deserves he thinks. He's happy about you running into him, you're his and it feels wonderful. Only you are wildly distressed while smelling like Soap and he needs to figure out why.

He tells you to stay put because he can feel Ghost through the bond, feel his turmoil. He should never have left you, but his concern for his pack mate took priority.

The thing about meeting all your scent matches in quick succession is that it nose dives you into a heat. But they hate you. One rejected you, one brought you to another so he could growl at you, one left you when you were in distress. You are so distraught that you can't go to them because you are certain they will only be disgusted that you would ask them for help with your heat.

You find the nearest shelter. It's a crumbling shed out the back of their property. It doesn't do much to keep out the cold, there are leaks that get worse when it starts to snow through the night. You wish there would be more because you are burning.

The snow storm muffles your scent. The only reason you don't die is because Ghost braved the storm to go grab more firewood from the shed.

There he is, the alpha who hates omegas with his scent matched omega in heat, in pain and in danger. He walks away. You accept death would be a kindness now.

Except you don't die because he sends the others. You don't die because even though he cannot stand to be around you or to smell you, he gives his pack to you. He sits in the armchair all night listening as his pack bundles you into the pack bedroom and knots you through your heat while desperately trying to combat the hypothermia that was setting in.

It's months and months of angst and tension and misery as the pack tries to divide their love between their pack mate and their omega. Ghost hates himself every time he growls at you and scares you. You hate yourself for tearing this pack apart.

There doesn't seem to be a happy ending here until a pair of betas visit town. Maybe Ale and Rudy are just what this pack was missing to make it whole. Maybe they soothe all those frayed edges, act as a buffer. And maybe, just maybe, one day Ghost and you realise all at once that somewhere between you starting to growl right back at him and him starting to make an extra cup of tea for you, you fell entirely in love.

The rest of the pack can't believe it took you two idiots so long to realise it.

[princenotsocharming]

😴

[gobald]

"I shall send you to heaven before I send you to hell"

[here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can]

“one more, dovey.” - r.j.l.

a/n: so this is just smth I wrote for a fic once and never used so here you go (found it in my notes app), my take on full moon!remus, here you go

warnings: nsfw, look, this is pure filth, consensual sex, p in v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, full moon!remus, oh also it’s all lower case, lmk if I missed any

bonus:

you were surprised by how sexual remus actually was. around a new moon he could be sweet and passionate but if it was the week before the full moon he’d rail the shit out of you, no matter what, fuck you dumb, eat you out, no, scratch that, devour you for hours straight, his tongue lapping repeatedly at your cunt, making you see stars, nearly pass out from exhaustion and scream his name in ecstasy.

he was quite literally obsessed with the way you tasted. eating you out was his favourite thing in the world and if you took that from him- oh boy. 

‘one more, pretty girl.’ 

that’s what he’d say to you.  

‘one more, dovey. for me?’ 

‘just one more, darling.’ 

and it was always one more with him. 

‘liar.’

that was not the only thing he told you. you were his, and only his. that’s what he told you and you agreed dumbly, loving the attention he payed to you, the way he spoiled you and every part of you body. he was covering you with hickeys, turning your legs into jello, as he said, and the marks would be visible for days to come, his words again. 

‘so everyone knows who you belong to.’

he was rough, pounding into you at a brutal pace and impossibly deep. and you loved it, every second of it. 

‘You’re not walking, love. Just accept it.’

that was where you found yourself often; occupying the boys’ dorm, (only sometimes) a silencing spell on the door and a sock over the handle. you were a sweaty and moaning mess of his doing. and he’d keep fucking you against the headboard, fucking you brainless, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips while his forest green eyes, full of lust, were locked with yours, which were begging him for a break of the overstimulation and edging at the same time. after he was done ruining you, he’d return to being the sweet and innocent boy everybody saw him as, treating you like his princess, acting like he didn’t whisper all those things in your ear nor degrade you nor make you kneel for him. remus would run a bath for the both of you after, take good care of you, wash your hair and body for you, draw you close to his chest, whisper quiet ‘I love you’s and if you fell asleep he’d carry you to bed without waking you up, no matter the circumstances. 

he spoiled you in every way possible. 

[toxicanonymity]

what if everyone simply wrote blurbs for their favorite manspreading gifs and pics and tagged them #manspreading olympics?

[waffawa]

There is nothing more infuriating than going on Pinterest, looking at Charlastor fan art, and reading all the braindead comments from people hating on the ship. "Charlie is canonically les!" "Hate this ship" "He's like a father to her!" "This is wrong."

LIKE IT'S JUST A SHIP AHHHHHHH since when did everyone get so gatekeepy and weird about shipping?? Canon or not? Inappropriate or not? Like what?? Have I been asleep for 20 years?! What the heck is anti and pro shipping?!

Makes me wanna make even more Charlastor fanart than ever thought possible.

[whorekneecentral]

"wanna come over and fuck?" Fwb max after a rece weekend

you get it // prompt: "wanna come over and fuck?"

It was midnight as he turned the lock to his apartment. He knew you'd be getting off work in a few minutes, you had texted him on your way into work. You picked up the midday shift, so you could watch his race and then go in.

He tossed the keys on the entry table, pulling his phone from his pocket as the door slammed shut.

From Max: wanna come over and fuck?

His phone buzzed only a second after he sent the message to you.

To Max: fuck off max

He laughed and put the phone on the table, heading up to take a shower. Just as he stepped out, there's a knock on the front door. Max pulls on a pair of shorts and heads down the hallway to open the door.

"Hi," you yawned as he opened the door. Max steps aside, letting you in. "Hey."

You wander over to the couch, dropping down onto it. "I'm exhausted," you tell him, covering your mouth as you yawned again. He sits next to you, pulling you into his side as he rubbed your arm softly.

It's quiet for a few minutes, Max lets you get all comfy next to him. "Did you see my podium ?"

"You mean was it different from all the other races this season?" you looked at him, a smile on your face. "Yeah, I saw. Congratulations babe."

Max smiles, "thank you," he leans down to kiss you, a hand pressed to your cheek. You let the man pull you onto his lap so you were now straddling him, his hands wandering all over you.

"I missed you, you know." You mumbled against his lips, "you go away too often."

"You should come with me," he tells you, pulling your shirt off.

You laughed, shaking your head. "No, that makes this," you gestured between the two of you, "too real. We're just friends, right? No need to complicate things."

"Right," Max nods, kissing you once more. "No need."

[skeletonapricationday]

SPICY DAVID HEADCANNONS

I have not found any smut related thing to this man, and to me that is a crime. I carnaly desire him, I long, I pin for him. Gimme David smut. This is mainly for a female reader but feel free to ignore any gender related comments and enjoy regardless of your sex. Anyways I'm lazy so here's some Headcannons.

No titties, Itty bitties, or big ol' honkers he doesn't care. David has never been one to have a specific fetish or type for his partners body. Hell he's just happy someone like you wants to have sex with him. As long as he can bury his face into your chest while you fuck, regardless of wether he's pressing against a flat board or being muffled by your mounds, he's a happy camper.

David isn't one to shave often. He's always sporting some kind of bush down there, he loves nature afterall. His pubes don't worry or bother him since he doesn't grow alot of body hair in the first place. For hygienic reasons he does trim, working in the sun all day does make him sweat.

Once again David is all about nature! He doesn't care if you're all smooth like a baby's bottom or if you're Becky with the good hair, a meals a meal. He nearly cums when you cum, even without contact, so he does enjoy a good session of oral. Picking pubes out of his teeth later isn't a concern.

David surprisingly isn't much of a moaner. All those years of working as a camp consular has trained him to be quiet. He's used to thrusting into his hand while biting his bottom lip, keeping himself silent for the campers sake. This has turned him into a whimperer. He's all whines and hushed begging. Whenever he shoves his head into the crook of your neck during the heat of the moment, it's like being given a private concert.

Davy loves a good pet name. Call him sugar, sweetness, darling, or even pretty boy. He doesn't care. As long as it's a term of endearment it sends a pang to his heart and heat to his dick in the bedroom. Expect alot of silent pleads, he just wants to be called a good boy.

David is easy to have his feelings hurt. Pretty please be nice to him! Degradation just isn't his thing. He would always try for his partners sake, if that's your thing, but he doesn't enjoy it. Being called a hurtful thing just makes him wanna cry. It's even worse if you request he do it. You remember what happened when he last pretended to be tough. This doesn't mean he's utterly vanilla though.

Overstimulate him. Oh does he adore becoming a whiny mess. As long as you warn him before hand that you're going to do it, he's down. He especially loves when you claw the amount of times he's cum into his back (be careful with your marks though, yall don't need any nosy campers asking questions. Always keep it under the shirt.) David has been extremely sexually repressed throughout his life, he's got plenty in the tank to spare.

David's libido isn't insanely high. He'd much more enjoy a sweet picnic, or a romantic hike in the woods compared to sex. He'd never reject it though. This does mean most of your sexual ednevours will have to be initiated by you. You learn pretty quickly as long as the area is clear he's down to bone, so it isn't much of a problem. Just crawl in his lap late at night while all the campers lay asleep, and it is on like Donkey Kong!

David surprisingly doesn't do porn. He's always had an overactive imagination. Who needs adult entertainment when you have the perfect titties in your mind? Better yet, who needs porn when he has you? You learned this by asking about his porn taste, only to find out he doesn't have one. He does do strippers on the other hand, you learned this before you were in a relationship. Having to drag his drunk ass home from Muffin Tops.

Thighs, utterly delectable. Wiggle your thighs at him and his mind goes south. He just can't help it, they're tempting him. Especially in those little shorts (as long as he ignores the sexist implications of the women's camp consular uniform) he can't help but stare. Expect alot of thigh grabs, thigh hugs, and small little hickies hidden on the inside of your thighs. Delcious~

His favorite sex positions are the ones where you have to be close, which means any positon. He'll find a way to make it work. Riding him while pressing your forehead to his, a mating press with his face hidden in your shoulder, doggy as he pants against your back, spooning while he's inside you. As long as he can work his way near you, and I mean really near you, it's his favorite. He especially enjoys a nice romantic night of missionary since he can see your face, kiss you whenever he pleases, and when you lock your ankles behind his back it feels like heaven.

He's such a sweet boy. He may be on top of you, fucking into you in a dominant position but he's a bottom. No matter how you have sex, you're the one in control. Feel free to swap the position or flip him over and rock his world. He doesn't mind it, whatever you say goes. He loves when you're really dominant, those nights where you're beyond frustrated from bratty campers are his favorite.

David preens when you mark him. It does sadden him that due to the nature of his job you can't mark him more, but it's understandable. He'll take whatever he can get. Scratch marks down his back, check. Hickies hidden on his chest, check. Bitemarks on his thighs, for sure check. Mane him however you please, just keep it under his clothes.

I adore this man. Obviously love him. Keep your eyes out for an actual smut shot, or even normal one shots. I just want my little work husband.

[actual-changeling]

soooooo I was going through my files in search of a fic to work on and i completely forgot that i started writing a uh. they fuck nasty on the bookshop floor fix it fic???

I don't know if it's any good but have a snippet, maybe I'll finish it.

-

Refusing to part even an inch, they cling to each other as their knees hit the carpet, falling back into the kiss because the world has narrowed down to heat and frantic touches—the passing of time unimportant, angry confessions swallowed in favour of licking salt off of familiar yet unexplored lips.

Aziraphale digs his fingers into Crowley's shoulders, the black fabric distantly tearing at the edges, and if it is causing him any pain, it is undetectable, hidden underneath wave after wave of pure, distilled love. Distracted by the swirling flames in his chest, he cannot tell he is crying until one of Crowley's hands tenderly slides along the side of his neck and cups his cheek, his thumb mindlessly brushing away the tears staining his skin.

Their grip on reality flickers and blurs, and maybe it's him, maybe Crowley, maybe both of them, but his sunglasses disappear, and with the last barrier removed, he leans in impossibly close.

Crowley kisses him with bleeding desperation—all the words they left unsaid are working their way to the surface and surrounding them like a veil of no longer plausible deniability. A fine mist that tastes of late nights and empty wine bottles, of sunshine warming stonework long gone and the joy tethering them to one another throughout lonely centuries.

Aziraphale feels breathless sobs wrecking the body he is holding onto, and although they're already kneeling, it still feels like too much work to keep themselves upright. So he clumsily shuffles around and spreads his legs to the side until his thighs are pressed to the floor, effortlessly tugging Crowley into his lap; their lips never stop touching.

A sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper echoes through their mouths, and he regrets, God, he regrets that they wasted six thousand years creating as much distance as they could bear when they could have had this instead.

[bayonettesque]

it leaves such a bad taste in my mouth that pretty much the only female characters that get written with any kind of vague semblance of care from sjm are the archeron sisters. all the other female characters are practically non-entities or just sjm dragging around the limp corpse of their characterisation because she has no idea what to do with them and doesn’t give a fuck about them the same way she does her hot sexy male characters. compare mor and amren vs cassian and azriel. all supposedly integral members of the IC yet the bat boys are a core part of acotar’s branding, major characters, and given a ton of obvious love from both author and fandom whereas mor and amren are just kind of half-assed and exist in slivers of plot or to discuss their existence in relation to men (read: mor’s random hatred of nesta over cassion like what). mor and amren don’t read as truly close and interwoven with the whole concept of the IC as the bat boys do imo. why does feyre have no friends that aren't Rhys' Bros

[peachshadows]

Yandere au macaque writes explicit self insert x wukong fanfic he keeps to himself and tries to get anything remotely similar removed from the internet because nobody else should even be imagining being with his peaches. Multiple different aus that get progressively more fantasy / porno plot and some pretty creative spicy scenes.

After Wukong kidnaps him he goes to macaques home to look for stuff to make him feel more comfortable finds the fics( neatly bound and organized) and mistaking them as diary’s reads some ( with an artifact if you subscribe to illiterate wukong) and decides to use them as the scripts for some of his spicy “plays” he makes macaque do. It freaks macaque out in the best way after he gets over the embarrassment.

OH MY GOD IM SCREAMING I LOVE THAT!!

Just imagining Wukong using Macaque's self insert fics as a way to roleplay out scenarios/fantasies is so fucking funny oh my god

Wukong: so I was thinking we use this scripts and this outfit for u to wear and I'll do my usual role. U can improv obviously but stick to script-

Macaque: where did u even get- *eyes widen* ...oh. oh.

[allastoredeer]

I'm curious if you planning to write NSFW fic(s) yourself? Your gen fics are amazing and it would be interesting to read 18+ in your style 😏

Hehehehe oh contraire mon frère, I have already written several NSFW fics 😎

This is Going to End in Disaster, Babe Wake Up, It's Pumpkin Spice Season, Misfire, Wade Wilson's Guide to Studying Your Spider (Spider-Man/Deadpool)

Lizard Brain (Spider-Man/Lizard)

Shaping Beskar, Gratitude (Mandalorian - Boba Fett/Din Djarin, Paz Vizla/Din Djarin)

And those are just the ones with the smut already written, I have a few that are going to have smut, I just haven't gotten to that part of the story yet. And these are the ones that just involve sex, not the darker themes that also fall under NSFW. (Except for "Shaping Beskar" that one DEFINITELY falls under the dark category)

But as for Hazbin Hotel, yes! I will be writing NSFW, for both "Just Kiss Already" and a few other wips I have in mind. I have quite a few of them planned out, actually. With various ships. It's just a matter of getting to them.

And I am very excited to get to them ( ▀ ͜͞ʖ▀)

[ominoose]

Any chance I could request a little Jake x reader where reader is Marc's wife? She knows of Steven and Jake (and has met Steven), but Jake is all new to her. NSFW would be so slay 💅

Even if you DONT do this request, please know I read everything you post and I love you sm

𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut

WC: 1.5k

A/N: Anon you are so sweet 💞 You said a little but my fingers started acting on their own... Came out more as a mini character study but they shag I swear. Its just heartfelt. 😩

Your sudden scream echoed against against the muggy tiles of the bathroom, cutting through the quiet flat so suddenly that before Marc could even finish being startled Jake had already forced himself to the front, feet thudding against the floor before the bathroom door is flung open.

The site of you stood over the window with water dripping down your skin stops him in his tracks.

Marc was smitten with you from the moment he met you, that much was obvious to both Jake and Steven alike. The body's heart raced, their palms began sweating and their eyes always trailed after you no matter where you were in the room. It did come as a surprise when Marc impulsively asked you out, an action uncharacteristic of a man so usually closed off and wary of letting people in.

The bigger surprise came when you so openly accepted their DID. Steven had been complaining about how little he was getting to front since Marc's relationship with you began, going as far as to argue on behalf of their mysterious third alter since even he must be getting less chance to sneak about. Jake didn't get involved.

When Marc finally opened up to you and introduced Steven, and, without hesitation, you insisted you would love every part of him, including any other man living in his body, it was Steven's turn to fall head over heels. Jake still didn't get involved.

Even when Marc and Steven jointly proposed to you, even when you said yes and the three of you vowed to stand side by side through eternity and beyond, in sickness and in health, Jake made his own vow not to get involved.

Just because the other two knew about his existence didn't mean he had to be actively involved. Just because you were married and gave Marc and Steven their hard earned happily ever after didn't mean he had to get involved, that wasn't what he was made to do. He was there when shit hit the fan, when Marc's knuckles went from bruised to bloody, when they needed to bite and clamp their jaws shut over the throat of a threat. When danger reared its head as quick as a belt.

Jake was not made to see the most beautiful women the world could create, with steam curling around her body, water droplets cascading down her skin where he'd learned to expect blood.

The bathroom door slamming against the wall got your attention as the form of your tense, rigid husband filled the door frame.

"Sorry babe, there was a spider. I already let it out the window, didn't mean to startle you." The sympathetic smile you gave him should've been enough to ease him, earn a sigh or a 'Phew' if it was Steven fronting. Not now. The man in front of you stood as if he'd been born into this stance, shoulders squared, eyes narrowed and sharp, jaw set. The man in front of you wasn't either of the men you stood at the aisle with. That left only one other person it could be.

"Jake?" The name was one foreign to your lips, spoken the way people said the names of ancient, mythological figures, of someone they'd heard while curled in bed, covers pulled up to their nose. As if saying the name out loud would invoke something.

It did.

Finally the man reacted, eyes flying up to meet your stare, wary as a beaten dog. Jake knew you were aware of him, knew Marc and Steven vaguely mentioned the fact he existed, but having you say his name was something more. He wasn't a rare, passing conversation topic now, the local cryptid haunting your home. Jake was made real, grounded in the present and not simply the flashes of violence and horror marring the body. Now he was the deer caught in the headlights, frozen at being seen.

With a hesitant step forward you reach for him, placing your hand gently on his shoulder. To you, it was to ground him, connect with him, show him you were open to him. Briefly you wondered if your fingers would slip through him like smoke.

To Jake, it was the first time someone had touched him without the sting of violence, and yet your touch still stung, still set his body on fire, his heart racing. To Jake, now given a moment in time to want, it was all he'd wanted.

His lips were on you before your back hit the wall, ravenous and desperately molding himself against you, breathing you in. When your arms went around his neck, wrapping him up in you, it was a miracle Jake stayed standing. Rough, calloused hands ran over you, fingers pressing against every inch of your skin, every pore. Hands that had only been present to be stained with blood were now being coated in you and he couldn't get enough.

The first chance you had to catch your breath was when you were being lifted without warning, pined between the wall and the panting picture of desperation in front of you. For a brief second your mind managed to catch up with you, 'Was this ok? Would Marc and Steven be ok with this?', but before any answer could've possibly came to you his tongue had laid claim to your mouth.

A key difference between Jake and Marc and Steven was Jake's world was fast, one where you had to give all or be reduced to nothing. Take what you can and take it now, because all you have to your name is a handful of time and the need to survive. That heady desperation defined Jake in all aspects, a fact he was carving into your mouth as his tongue tangled with your own while his hands all but ripped his trousers off.

This was the second and final time you were given the mercy of a breath, because when his mouth left yours, his cock had plunged inside of you. A strangled grunt gets caught in his throat as he holds you in place against the wall, head burrowing into the crook of your neck and taking the chance to bite at you, mark you, leave proof that he was here, that it was Jake Lockley that had pried those gorgeous moans from you.

His thrusts were as imposing and hard as the rest of him, wasting no time at setting a brutal pace, cock never fully leaving you as the sound of skin slapping skin and your gasping cries filled the bathroom. It was raw and primal, his hands like claws as he squeezed you as close to him as he could, bottoming out thrust after thrust, fucking you the only way he knew a man could.

The angle had his pubic bone grinding against your clit, creating an accidental rhythm while he slammed into you over and over and over. There was no let up, all you could do was dig your nails into his shoulders, wrapping your legs around him as he held you there and had his way with you, not even able to arch against his vice like grip on you.

Pleasure was being pulled from you so suddenly, so rapidly, it was already overstimulating, but Jake Lockley didn't work in half measures. It was all or nothing, fast and furious, there was never time for him to stop and catch his breath before, and he wouldn't make a habit of it now. Your clit was throbbing violently, walls clenching sporadically as he panted over you, both of you heading towards joint ruin with open legs.

When said ruin came, it was complete and utterly so. Your orgasm was quick but completely overwhelming, legs twitching and trying to clamp shut around him as he fucked you through it, rutting against your abused clit with no remorse. Jake's own ruin was quick to follow though, and it came over him with a roar as he barely managed to suppress the loud, rumbling moan clawing out of his throat. He was panting like an animal as he spasmed inside of you, his pace becoming frantic and stuttering as his body fought to keep moving. His moment couldn't end.

Despite his efforts, end it did, with his dick softening as he was left panting, staring down at your neck with a gaping mouth. He'd left his mark on you, bruises were scattered across your skin, crescent moons denting into the flesh of your hips, carved by his fingers. Was this it? Was this all he'd get from the world, this fleeting moment with you? It was more than he'd wished for, but now that he'd finally been allowed to want, he wanted more. He wanted you.

A soft hand on his jaw brought his gaze to you and the breaths he'd just fought back into his lungs left him. Your eyes were soft, slowly tracing over his face, savouring a moment to just look at him, the face of a man without the shadows that obscured it. The face of Jake Lockley.

He was too entranced to react as you leaned closer to him and placed a gentle, delicate kiss to his parted lips. After what he'd just done to you, the pleasure he'd ripped from you, after you'd let him all but claw his way between your legs, now you were opening your heart for him to claw his way into as well.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Jake." Now, for the first time, Jake was truly involved, body and soul.