#brain is coo coo electric

[scuttle-buttle]

I'm literally in agony in every sense of the word

[s0dium]

Creep

Warnings: Creepy/stalker behavior, breeding kink, pussydrunk behavior, cumflation, stomach bulge, subspace, premature ejaculation, orgasms

~

You know it's wrong, so wrong to enjoy the attention of a creep.

At least, that's what people call him. But through the snickers and sidelong glances that surround him, there's something about him that intrigues you, attracts you, something you can't seem to get out of your head.

It starts off small, letting him eye you from across the room and flashing him a small smile. Then you notice he starts to get bolder, more confident in his advances. As the days pass, his presence becomes a constant in your routine. He waits for you after class, catches you alone in elevators, leans in closer during conversations, and even starts to find excuses to touch your arm or shoulder. Each interaction feels like a challenge, a test of boundaries that seems he's all too willing to push.

In the beginning, you almost listen to the unease flickering in the back of your mind, warning that maybe you are playing with fire. But as the tension builds, you find your resolve slowly melting, small touches on your arm turn grazes against your ass and the quick glances evolve into him blatantly checking you out.

So only you can be blamed for the situation you're in right now. Only you can be blamed for letting it get like this.

His hips snapped so fast you can't think, you can breathe. Pleasure courses through your body in electric flesh arrows and you could feel your pussy clench around his length in a futile attempt to adjust for his massive size. How could a creep like him be so big? Jesus, you could feel his mushroom tip press against your cervix every time he slammed into you. Countless loads of cum dripped from where you two were connected onto the white sheets below. At any given time he'd blow his load right into you and without much of a stutter fuck the liquid back into you, until he reached his high again and started the cycle over again.

"Mine," he grunts out, his breath hot against your cheek from the brutal mating press he has you in. The bed shook with every thrust, the head board banging against the wall from the way your cervix was getting absolutely abused. The friction, the way he filled you up so perfectly, his hot skin against yours, it was too much, too overwhelming, and your brain couldn't handle the pleasure. You could feel the euphoria absorb your body, making your toes curl and uncurl from the sheer pleasure.

"G-gonna cum in you again" He says through a moan, peppering kissed along your jaw. "Gonna fill you up, make you feel so so good." He doesn’t slow his movement, instead picking up one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder so he can reach even deeper. He places his other hand on your belly, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

"You feel me?" He coos, pressing down on your stomach, intensifying the pressure of his cock inside you and making your moans grow even louder.

"I can feel you, I can feel you squeezing me, feel so good, better than my fist." He chuckles and grabs your throat, squeezing it so your brain goes fuzzy with the slight light of oxygen.

His breathing becomes jagged and with a soft whimper followed by a silent "oh-fu", he blows his load into your battered pussy. There is no warning when cums into you, only the slight stutter of his hips that does nothing to deter his brutal pace. You are soaked down there, his sticky cum leaking out of you as he pushes into you over and over again. But you couldn't be bothered to look right now, you couldn’t open your eyes and ignore the colors you were seeing behind your eyelids. Everything was good - so, so, so good. Your skin was buzzing, mind cloudy, and the only thing you could focus on was the throbbing that was taking over your body.

"You gonna cum?" He coos into your ear, punctuating his words with an extra sharp thrust. "Cum for me, please." 

As if on cue, you gasp, and let your orgasm wash over you. He doesn't stop his movements, instead, he fucks you through your orgasm until your crying for him to stop.

"Not gonna stop, gonna fuck you until m' shooting blanks okay?"

SHIGARAKI, YUUTA OKKATSU, L LAWLIET, SHINSO, KENMA, GYUTARO

[martiniluvr]

18+ minors dni

the parasites in my brain…they wanted this. enjoy.

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

hockey player!jason todd who has so much energy on and off the ice, and nowhere to put it. you’d think body-slamming grown men into the boards with all his weight would wear him out, but it’s not enough; you can almost feel the electricity radiating off him hours later, and it hardly matters if his team wins or loses. lucky for him, you’ve found an…arrangement that suits you both—and tonight, he’s coming off his best game of the season so far.

“jay,” you whine, your voice muffled by the pillow against your cheek. your body is still twitching from your first orgasm, but his fingers sink into your hips as he rocks against your ass rhythmically, filling you inch by inch while you moan. his green eyes are glued to the numbered jersey you’re wearing while he fucks you—his number—and he can’t help the cocky grin that settles on his face at the sight. he brings one of his hands underneath you to rub small circles on your clit, chuckling as you gasp his name again.

“y’know,” he says through laboured breaths, “this was the first game you’ve worn this to.” he tugs at the jersey harshly with his free hand, while his other teases your clit faster, eliciting a desperate moan from you that makes him shudder. “gonna—fuck—have to wear it to every match now.” you want to laugh—after all, you know how superstitious hockey players are—but jason leans down to trail hot kisses along the side of your neck, and suddenly your mind is cloudy again as heat rushes through your abdomen.

“you gonna cum for me? hm?” he breathes against your ear, smiling when you merely whimper. “yeah, you are. I can feel you shakin’, ma.” he fucks into you deeper, his deft fingers keeping their pace against your sensitive clit. you clutch at the sheets as your belly tightens and your eyes screw shut; you want to regret the promise you made him—an orgasm for each goal he scored—but your second climax cuts you short.

you cry out as your release tears through you, arching your belly into the bed before letting your body go slack against the mattress with a shaky breath. you feel jason’s huge frame against you as he shifts closer to your ear, his tone teasing as he speaks. “don’t give up on me now, princess,” he coos, grinning as your dripping cunt clenches helplessly around his cock. “y’still owe me one more.”

[sky-is-the-limit]

Ride, Cowgirl.

P: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

CW: NSFW content, Cowgirl Position, Breeding Kink

WC: 1,5k words

''Fuck- be quiet, sweetheart-''  Arthur rumbled out, pressing his knuckles against your lips before pushing hard until your teeth were pressing against the roughness of his complexion.

With your hands braced against his chest, you summoned every ounce of strength you had to begin lifting your hips away from him.

The pressure eased as his girth slowly withdrew from the depths of your sensitive walls, and you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

But even as you reveled in the pleasure of his touch, a nagging sense of self-consciousness started creeping in your brain. You couldn't help but feel ashamed of how pathetic you must looked, drooling all over yourself, sweat dripping down your spine, hair dishevelled despite the fact that you had hardly even moved.

''I said, be quiet, girl.'' Arthur's words were punctuated by gripping your jaw firmly but not too hard, wrenching your mouth open as his face drew closer to yours.

A single droplet of saliva fell from his lips to your gaping mouth, landing on your tongue and before you could react, Arthur thrusted two fingers into your mouth.

You gagged involuntarily to his sudden way to keep you quiet before he withdrew them, in a way granting you permission to speak.

''I don't think I can-'' You managed to blurt out, despite the trembling rushing through your entire body as his strong hands held you firmly in place.

''Of course you can, pretty girl.'' He cooed through a strained groan, his voice thick with desire and a hint of impatience as you lifted yourself further up.

A low guttural growl emanated from his mouth whilst he guided your body down onto his shaft once more, torturously slow. In that moment, you were acutely aware of how perfectly he fit inside you, a bittersweet sensation of pain and heaven taken over your senses.

As he slid into you, only reaching halfway, the vigor of it all was overwhelming, eliciting another involuntary cry from your lips to his thickness.

''God, look at you-'' Arthur, attuned to your response, lifted you slightly before exerting a forceful downward motion, the sound of your skin meeting his femurs echoing throughout the quiet of the night

With a deep breath, you curled your body over his, pressing yourself against him, seeking solace in his warmth.

The stretch was just right, so satisfying that made you want to writhe and squirm on top of him, to lose yourself in the rawness of the moment until you were little more than a mindless creature chasing its own pleasure.

In that moment, every sense was heightened. The friction of your bodies, the sound of your combined breaths, the intoxicating scent of cigarettes and cheap cologne hanging heavy in the air..

''Arthur-'' You cried out from the immense fullness of his length, unable to contain the bliss as every nerve in your body was set on fire.

One of his hands traced a path up the curve of your back, its touch sending electric tingles through your skin, each movement leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

With a gentle yet dominating pull, he guided you to lie on top of him, his strength effortlessly positioning you so that your hands naturally found their place on his defined shoulders, providing a sturdy anchor for balance.

He lifted one hand from your hip, a tender touch that trailed the expanse of your body until it reached your face and cupped your cheek to tilt your head downwards, coaxing you to meet his gaze.

Then, Arthur leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear, "Show me what a good cowgirl you are." He murmured, the rumble of his voice low and primal.

As soon as he uttered those words, your hips sprang into motion, responding eagerly to the command and you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he delved deeper into you.

With each thrust, you could feel the individual bones of his ribcage pressing into you, the pressure adding to the intensity of the position you were in.

In a desperate attempt to seek more pleasure, you shifted your hips, angling yourself to maximize the stimulation on your throbbing core as he pounded into you relentlessly.

''Yeah that's right, sweetheart- fuck-'' Arthur's strained breathless mumbling reverberated through the cold tent and with each thrust of his hips, he drove himself deeper into you, hitting that sweet spot with such precision that had you seeing stars.

He slipped a hand from your hips and with practiced ease, he directed his attention to your most sensitive spot, his fingers moving torturously slow upon your skin as they found their way to your clit.

His touch met the tender flesh, you gasped at the sudden sensation, the smooth pad of his finger gliding over the hood of your clit with pressure.

''Keep riding me like that, up and down, girl-'' The older man rasped, still fucking up into you and making you sob as if you were in pain, the pleasure alone enough to make you drool.

Each cresting wave a little stronger than the last, feeding off its own momentum and swelling until you could barely see straight anymore. It was embarrassingly easy to lose yourself on his cock like that and you fervently threw yourself into the act, grinding down with rapidly increasing desperation.

''Stay inside, Arthur-ah, please-''

The mere thought of breeding you never failed to ignite all animalistic instincts within him, quickening his pace instantly as the rhythm of his hips became more urgent.

With each thrust, he slammed himself deeper into you, his hips grinding against yours with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs. Your body responded eagerly, moving in tandem with his, every movement sending you closer to the edge.

''Grind on it girl, just like that-'' A low growl left Arthur's throat to the feeling of your walls tightening around him, gripping him with desperately, begging to be filled with every single inch of him.

Sucking in a faltering breath, you used your trembling legs to push yourself up and drop back down onto his cock, clutching his thighs in a death grip and in result your head tipped back, exposing the vulnerable curve of your throat to his hungry gaze.

In response, his tongue attacked the delicate spot of your throat, tasting the sweet essence of your skin as his teeth grazed against you, so eagerly whilst his ministrations picked up with your speed, grinding the worn pad of his thumb into your oversensitive clit hard enough to leave you shaking uncontrollably.

''Beautiful girl-'' He was groaning softly under you now, quick, sporadic noises that he couldn’t fully choke back but you could hardly hear him over the sound of your own desperate bleating and the rising clap of skin on skin. 

With each smack of his hips and his thumb stroking your bud in circles, your mind was consumed by a euphoric haze, every sensation magnified to the point where every thought evaporated into nothingness.

And as tears clung to your lashes, you surrendered yourself completely to him once more, needing nothing but him. Always him.

Mustering up all the strength in your legs, you bounced on him even more earnestly than before. Your walls tightened around Arthur's girthy length, the sensation of your muscles constricting around him as your climax finally bursted within you with the power of a thousand crushing waves.

With each clench, you felt him being sucked so deep that your juices started gushing out, the dampness spread across the thin bedsheet and soaked into his lower half to make a mess. Yet, amidst the chaos Arthur remained undeterred, his thrusts relentless as he pursued his own release.

All it took was a few more thrusts, and his body was convulsing beneath you, his movements seeming almost otherworldly while he emptied himself inside you, choked moans and ragged gasps escaping his dry throat as his hot semen spilt out of you, trailing down your thighs.

As expected from your uncomfortable position, Arthur recovered quicker than you did and by the time you finally slouched forward, completely spent, he was there to catch you.

Drawing you close to his chest, he slowly rolled you both over and his cock slipped free with a quiet little squelch.

You sighed heavily, but satiated and nestled into him in search of the body heat that would keep you warm now that the sweat was starting to cool on your back. 

A long moment passed in silence while you were catching your breath, basking in the afterglow.

Then, leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. ''Learn to ride your horse like that and I'll have to send you off to the circus.''

''Shut up, Morgan.''

[florencebirdsong]

Bad Decisions

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Sharing Is Caring - Chapter 1/3

Summary: Rio allows Agatha a turn with her pet.

Tags: fingering (r recieving), light degradation, owner/pet dynamics, but not any actual pet play in the fic itself, I couldn’t squeeze it in :(, Mistress Agatha, Sir Rio, teasing, orgasm denial, oral fixation, brief mention of drooling, boot worship/humping, petting, light hair pulling, switch used for caning mentioned, Agatha is stressed and horny

Words: 2k+ | AO3

Authors Note: Not enough Agatha x Rio x Reader and I had a craving so here we are.

Side note: Agatha never calls Teen pet in this universe

“Come, pet,” Agatha says as she walked off.

You take two steps before realising that Agatha is not in charge of you. You turn to Rio who looks highly amused. She jerks her chin in Agatha’s direction.

“Tell me about it later.”

Embarrassment and anticipation runs through you. It’s highly unlikely the other women in the group don’t know what’s happening. But the way Rio will react when you recount every detail of what Agatha did to you sends shivers down your spine.

The only reason nothing has happened in front of them is because there’s a teenager here as well.

You hurry after Agatha. She’s got the patience of a killer but she doesn’t like waiting when she doesn’t need to.

As soon as you’re out of sight of the others Agatha slams you against a tree. Her lips are on yours in a heartbeat and her hand reaches up to grope your breast. She doesn’t say anything, just kisses you like she can consume you. You’ve missed her. 

She doesn’t waste time. Her hand slips under your waistband and she’s pushing two fingers inside of you without preamble.

A pained whine escapes you. You’re embarrassingly wet so there’s no friction but the sudden stretch is deliciously painful.

“You’re so tight,” she licks her bottom lip. “I can’t remember a time when you weren’t gaping. Has Rio not been looking after you?”

She slams her fingers into you again the second you go start to speak, turning your words into a choked noise.

“Poor thing,” she coos mockingly. “Your pussy has just been aching for a good fucking, hasn’t it?”

You’re too busy moaning to respond. Not that there’s a safe way to respond to that question with Rio around the bend.

Her fingers curl and you finally give in and cling to her. She presses against that spongy bit inside of you and laughs lowly at the way you curl around her.

“Still so easy, huh pet?”

You try to deny it with a whine but your slick is dripping down her hand.

“I think you are,” she says and slips a third finger in on her next thrust. Your cry turns into a moan as her thumb rubs your clit. “One word from me and a nod from your owner and you’re a dripping mess.”

You moan and bury your head in her neck.

“I bet you would have done anything to have my hands on you again,” she curls her fingers again. “Say yes mistress.”

“Yes, mistress,” you manage to gasp. She rewards you with firm circles around your clit that has electricity shooting up your spine.

“I’ll be nice and let you come. But only this once. The others won’t be given so easily.”

Your toes curl. Others. You pray Rio allows it. Just imagining it, Rio’s tongue on your tits while Agatha fucks you to completion has you hurtling toward the edge.

“Ah ah,” Agatha says and slows when you are moments from your peak, “Say thank you mistress.”

“Thank you mistress,” you repeat instantly. You arch desperately when she doesn’t speed up again.

“Say you belong to me,” her voice so low it scratches that thing in the back of your brain. 

Your mouth falls open but no sound comes out. You can’t. You can’t and Agatha knows that. She’s well aware of the magic binding you to Rio.

“Just four little words.”

No matter how hard you try you can’t force anything other than a whine out.

“Pity,” she says and pulls away. Your legs are too weak to hold you and you fall to your knees.

“Wait, wait, please,” you gasp and reach for her, “I’ll be good. You said I could come. Please let me come.”

Her smile is sharp.

“You can’t very well be good and come without your owners permission, can you?”

It’s hard to think through the haze but your fingers slacken when realisation hits you. This was either going to end with an edge or bent over Rio’s knee.

“Aw, don’t give me that pathetic face,” she runs wet fingers down your cheek. “You know it only makes me want to hurt you more.”

It’s always been a hard decision between a punishment from Agatha or one from Rio, and it’s a position they loved to put you in. But you haven’t seen Agatha in decades.

You lightly grasp her wrist and pull her wet fingers to your mouth. Her eyes darken again as you gently wrap your lips around them, moaning at your own taste.

It’s only when your tongue brushes them that she warningly says, “Careful.”

It doesn’t deter you.

She presses down on your tongue and your eyes roll back as fuzz begins to fill your brain again.

“I can never remember whether you always had such a fixation with things on your tongue or if we trained it into you.”

She nudges her foot between your leg. 

“Let’s see if you can come just from this, shall we?”

You have before, but that was with Agatha using her magic to add an extra sensation. 

Agatha begins to slowly run her fingers back and forth and your hips follow the same rhythm.

The pressure isn’t anything like she can give you with her hands but it’s outweighed by the feeling of her on your tongue. A light scrape of her nails has lightning travelling down your spine and right to your clit. 

You moan and press closer to her, barely aware of the drool sliding down your chin.

You finally find an angle that brings sweet pressure on your clit. You grind desperately against her. Your rhythm non-existent, chaotic and choppy.

What should be slow builds fast with Agatha’s fingers in your mouth. The heat grows until it’s unbearable and you desperate fuck yourself against her boot as the fear she’ll make you stop grows.

She doesn’t. Instead, she presses down hard with her fingers and drinks in your expression as you cross the edge.

Your moan is a garbled mess as pleasure washes over you and you barely manage to keep your eyes cracked open as you come, desperate to see every minute shift of Agatha’s expression.

Her removing her fingers from your mouths feels just as bad as when removes them from your core but you try not to be too greedy and stay quiet.

She wipes her fingers on her pants as the aftershocks fade. You slump fully against her leg and she gently runs a hand through your hair. Footsteps sound but you can’t be bothered to worry.

Agatha’s hand stills the moment the person comes into view. The fact she didn’t pull completely away means it isn’t Teen. Which leaves one other person.

“Looks like someone’s been a naughty girl,” Rio says as she comes up behind you.

You muster a whine and nudge Agatha’s hand again. You don’t want her to go back to her frosty mask. It hurts.

She starts patting you again but doesn’t take her eyes off Rio.

“Taking things that aren’t yours again, sweetheart?” Rio asks.

“Is it considered taking when she threw herself at my feet?”

You can feel Rio’s dark gaze turn to you. 

“Is that so?” her fingers curl in your hair and yank your head back. She leans down to kiss you. It’s obvious she tastes your wetness when her tongue dips between your lips and she moans. “Very naughty. You know I’m the only one allowed to taste your cunt.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whimper, subconsciously starting to grind on Agatha’s boot again.

“Ah,” Rio pulls your hair so you go up on your knees.

“She’s so desperate,” Agatha observes. “Are you sure you’ve been properly fucking of her?”

“She’s always desperate,” Rio snorts, “Or have you forgotten all the times she’s begged for attention moments after coming?”

“It’s hard to forget,” Agatha murmurs and runs her fingers down your cheek again. “What do you think your punishment should be, pet?”

Your heart pounds. It’s always a trick question.

“Spanking?” you try. It’s not like they have the usual toys readily available. Although there are a lot of trees around, “Or maybe a switch?” since you technically broke one of Rio’s major rules, even though it was with Agatha.

“Always so creative,” Agatha says as she digs her nails into your cheek. That along with her praise and Rio’s tight grip has you humping the air. “Rio?” Agatha asks. A surprise to your hazy mind.

“Sounds fun. I haven’t used one in a long time,” her grip loosen and she runs her nails over the tender spot she’s created. You shiver. “Why don’t you pick one? I’ll even let you have the first round. It has been a while since you’ve had her.”

Round? A heady mix of fear and arousal rushes through you.

“And we both know how much you like to watch,” Agatha counters. 

You can’t see Rio’s face but it’s easy to imagine when Agatha quirks her eyebrow.

Agatha turns to find a switch she likes and Rio turns her attention back on you.

“Now,” she says and kneels down behind you, “How do we want you?” Her hands run down your sides.

Ass in the air, most likely. But a rhetorical question is dangerous to answer when you’re in trouble.

Rio unbuttons your pants and slips her hand inside to find you absolutely soaked from your orgasm. She moans against the skin of your neck and runs her fingers through your folds. She seems to lose herself for a moment, lips and teeth running over skin as her fingers begin to circle your clit. A hint of the true effect of watching Agatha’s hold over you.

You try to stay still but her fingers are so light that you can’t help pushing closer. It snaps her out of it and a second later you’re on your back.

“How does on your back sound? So we can see that pretty face cry,” she says as she climbs on top of you. She traces the path your tears will take with a single finger.

“Yes, sir,” you say quietly.

She grins and begins unbuttoning your shirt, one she had picked just for Agatha. She doesn’t bother to take it completely off. Instead, she arranges it to part slightly. Another tease for Agatha.

You must look quite the sight, hair mussed, shirt and your pants undone. Your lips parted and wet.

She looks like she wants to devour you. It’s a miracle she’s letting Agatha ruin you first.

“But where should I sit? I need a good view to enjoy the show,” Rio muses, her hands slipping under the edges of your shirt to lightly run her nails down your sides. Your muscles jump at the feeling which earns a pleased look from her.

“I do so enjoy your face, pet, but I think I’d rather watch the damage our dear Agatha will inflict on that pretty skin of yours.”

She slips off you and then behind. She gently tugs you between her legs and you melt into her like you’ve done a thousand times.

Instead of teasing you like normal, she readjusts the opening of your shirt. She’s definitely missed Agatha if she isn’t sneaking in even a little bit of touch. She hums consideringly in your ear and your pants disappear. Her fingers pull at the waistband of your panties and snaps it against your skin before those disappear too.

Cool air washes against your hot, slick skin and your hips twitch. Rio laughs lowly in your ear.

“She’s really done a number on you, hasn’t she pet?”

You turn your head to try and hide your face in her neck. Just one of them has always been overwhelming. Now that you have them both playing with you again your desperation is no secret.

Footsteps approach and Rio grabs your chin and forces you to look.

You whimper when you see Agatha with more than one stick and try to squirm out of Rio’s grip. Thin toys sting so badly, especially when they’re wood. But the birch rod - a bundle of sticks wrapped tightly together? There’ll be little relief from the pain for a long while yet.

You should’ve stuck with the spanking. You knew it was a trick question, they always add a twist. Why did you choose the harsher option first? Whatever they added to the spanking likely wouldn’t have been so bad. Unless they punished you for thinking you could get off easy.

“Behave,” Rio says warningly, “You know you deserve it.”

You swallow.

Next Chapter

[charliemwrites]

Woof woof… whimper

(Part 10… but technically a continuation of part 9)

Content: Dub-Con/Non-Con, Knotting

It takes your cock-addled brain a second too long to process what Soap’s just said. What he’s implied. And by then he’s all ready for you to buck against him, confused and angry.

“That’s so — that’s not funny!” You shout.

But he’s got you pinned thoroughly, your chest flat against the mattress and your ass flush against his hips. His cock buried so deep you can feel the hot head of it bullying the deepest parts of you. All your struggling does is make you clench up tight around him, makes him feel that much bigger and meaner inside you. Makes him grunt low and ragged in your ear, all animal appreciation.

“I’m not laughin’,” he replies, nipping at your shoulder.

“G-get off of me, get out, get—”

His hand slides into your hair again, gets a firm hold at the roots and presses your face into the blankets, muffling your protests. Shushes you like soothing a panicked animal.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I still gotta prove I’m not compensating, don’t I?”

You suck in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have to be a million explanations other than the absolutely ludicrous one he’s just presented to you. Cameras, microphones….

How did he know where you live?

How did he know where the spare key was?

How did he know where your bedroom was?

How did he find you at the bar?

Stalker, you tell yourself. He’s a creep, you’ve always known that.

Then where’s your dog?

“N-no,” you warble, bucking again. Nearly scream as his cock twitches inside you; only reason you don’t is because you can barely breathe as it is. He’s so deep inside that he’s practically in your lungs. “No way you’re my — there’s no way. You’re crazy. I’m gonna— ah!”

He draws out as you speak, gradual, and then plunges in again all at once, cutting you off. Grinds his hips in a dirty circle too, burying himself as deep as he can.

“Aww, poor thing,” he coos. “S’alright, baby, I knew this would happen. We jus’ gotta get all those big, scary feelings out first. Then I can explain it all nice and slow.”

You try to scream at him. Try to curse him out, tell him there’s no way in hell you’re listening to a word he says now; never mind letting him spend another second with his dick in you.

All that comes out is a high-pitched keen as he starts fucking you without further preamble. It aches, but you can’t tell in what way. If it hurts, if it’s the best you’ve ever had. Both? Your nerves feel haywire, brain dragged to lust-stupid depths.

“See, there we go,” he rasps, punctuating with a sharp snap of his hips on that last word. “My perfect little mate. Your cunt was made for my cock, made to be bred by me. Isn’t that right?”

You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you from doing more than sending electricity down your spine, hair pulled taut.

“Yeah it fucking is,” he growls to his own question, canting your hips back further. His fingers grip cruelly into the flesh, sure to leave bruises. You wish you didn’t enjoy the sensation, wish it didn’t make you spasm around him helplessly.

“‘Bout time I owned you right back, don’t you think?” He continues, never stopping or even slowing. You yelp as he tugs your necklace again, arching your back at a steep angle. “Even collared yourself up for me. All it needs is my name.”

Something about that drives some awful, slutty part of your brain fucking wild. The idea of you with a tight leather choker — a collar — with his name (you don’t think about what name) hanging from your throat…

“Like that, don’t you?” He chuckles meanly. “Who’s my good little slut? Who’s my perfect, soaked little breeding whore?”

Tears spring to your eyes as you realize the “I am” is right there on the tip of your over-saturated tongue. If you had air, brain cells, any ability at all, you’d be crying it to the ceiling like the toy he’s treating you as.

He’s going to ruin you, you think. He’s going to fuck you broken. You’re crying and wailing on his cock, think you’d actually throw a tantrum if he pulled out and left you on the edge right now. Would, you realize in horror, beg for him to keep going.

And then he snakes his hand around your hip and starts rubbing your clit — fast, hard little circles. Just the way you like; the way you’d do it yourself. Relentlessly and cruel, even when you try to writhe away from how fast you can feel yourself getting to the edge. Almost frightened by it, how quickly he’s mastered your body’s pleasure.

Frightened by the extra stimulation at your entrance, too. A little extra friction at first — shocking because you’re leaving a puddle on the sheets. But then the friction becomes pressure, becomes… more.

“W-wha….?” You slur, hips wriggling.

Soap (Johnny?) snarls in your ear and that feeling at your entrance grows. Feels, you realize with alarm, like stretching.

“Gonnae take my knot so well,” he rambles, accent thick like syrup, trickling into your empty brain, filling you up with meaningless sounds. “Plug you up full of my cum, breed you right just like you need.”

Any questions or confusion are whisked away by the extra stimulation at your entrance. The sensitive nerves getting just as much brutal attention as your inner walls, your cervix, that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.

It all becomes too much all at once and crashes through you, devastating. You clamp down around him tight and needy, lean all your weight back into his thighs. And he practically howls as he sinks into you and stays, grinding and humping without ever actually pulling out again. You feel a flood of heat that seems to go on for an absurdly long time, cock pulsing against your overstimulated walls, milked for every last drop.

You shudder as your brain tries and fails to process it all. Like trying to decipher a foreign language from white noise. It’s nothing but static to you.

You can feel a tongue against your shoulder, scraped of blunt teeth. Soap/Johnny licking the sweat from your skin and nipping bruises into the flesh. You make an annoyed noise that comes out whinier than intended, shoving at his face.

“Get off, you bastard.” Your voice is pathetic, thick with tears and fractured in a hundred places.

“Can’t, bonnie, even if I wanted to.”

You scowl, try to look at him over your shoulder. He takes that opportunity to nuzzle against your temple.

“What?” You ask. “What are you talking about?”

“Did ye hear me?” He chuckles. “Well, maybe not with the way you were screamin’. You’re all knotted up, baby. Can’t pull out — ‘less you want this pretty pussy to tear.”

You jolt, nearly yank yourself off out of pure fear, but Johnny keeps you still again, humming.

“Easy now,” he croons. “Still fussy? Need another to settle down?”

Useless as your brain may be, it recognizes what he means by “another one.” You think you might pass out.

“No,” you snap, petulant even to your own ears. “I want you to explain… explain everything.”

“Alright, hen. C’mere.”

He gently lays you out prone on the bed, then rolls you both on your sides. Hitches your leg up over his hip. You want to protest, but it helps the ache in your poor cunt.

“H-how are you still hard?” You pant, traitorous pussy twitching around him.

He growls in your ear, can feel him grinning against the lobe. “Will stay that way for a bit, lass. Don’ worry, you jus’ have to lay here all nice and still. Keep me warm while I explain things to you.”

And he does. How there are shapeshifters out there in the world, rare as they are. That he comes from a line of them. Recruited to military, as most of them are.

How he was on standard patrol when he smelled you for the first time.

“Like a wet dream, bonnie. Fertile. Spring. Smelled like mine.”

How he instantly knew you were his mate. That he just needed to make you see it. Never a good time to explain it all to you — and then there were interlopers and your silly little books and your pesky toys. How he tried to drop hints around the house, let you come to the correct conclusion on your own. But you never did.

“Honestly it’s a good thing I’m here, hen. You’re so oblivious. Lived with a man and never even knew it.”

That he tried to go about it the other way ‘round, as a man, but you’re just so stubborn. And then how it all led up to tonight. To you finally, finally realizing what you really needed: your mate.

You should be angry, furious. There’s a lot to say about… well, all of it. It’s horrifying and violating and… and…

And he hasn’t stopped bullying your clit since he started talking. Cruel, tight circles. Drawing the hood back with two fingers and stroke with a third, slow and languid and just soft enough to make your head spin. Rhythmless taps. Even pinches when you try to chew him out at one point, half turning to scowl. Instead have his tongue lapping sloppily at yours as your mouth gapes open soundlessly.

Makes you cum twice just like that without ever interrupting his own story, cock still hilted — knotted deep inside you. Honestly, you probably miss a good portion of it, some of the finger details for sure. But you get the broad strokes (among other strokes).

He licks at your overstimulated tears when he’s finished, nuzzling and kissing your cheek.

“I-I miss my dog,” you mumble finally, hands balled against your chest.

“Aww, darlin’,” he sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re one and the same. I’m always your boy no matter what form I take.”

It would be more comforting if his dick didn’t throb calling himself your boy.

“‘Sides, I’m better than a normal mutt,” he continues, tugging you against his chest. You want to hate that is instantly makes you feel a little better. “Wolves mate for life, after all.”

First | Previous | 1fur1

Masterlist

[gh0stsp1d3r]

What is… that?

warnings: none rlly, all fluff :3

@lampylamperson HOPE U LIKE IT !!

a/n: omfg this man IS TOO DAYUM FINE. am I back in my animated men phase ??

The last thing you expected while you waited for your husband to return, was for him to bring a giant kaiju baby with him.

You were sitting on the couch downstairs, your head being held up by your hand as you watched crappy tv shows, when you heard a loud banging noise from outside, you snapped your head up, to see kenji finally swimming in.

The door opened, and water flowed underneath Kenji as he slid onto the floor. “Mina! Emergency analysis.” He said quickly, you furrowing your eyebrows at his suddenness. You stood up, going to his side.

“Scanning for injuries.” She said, he breathed shakily, turning to look at you and back at Mina.

When she got to his hands to scan, he held them close to his chest, as if he was hiding something.

“Ken, this is very strange. According to my readings, you have a… a second heartbeat?”

“No. It’s not my heartbeat, Mina.” He moved his hands to reveal a pink dragon looking thing.

You gasped, eyes going what. “What… is that? Oh my god, Ken, is that a fu-“

“Yep, it’s the end of the world.” He interrupted, sighing, sitting up, the baby sliding down his body and to the floor. Your eyes were blown wide, in pure shock at the huge kaiju you had in front of you.

The baby looked curious, following Mina around as she floated.

“Um… is it okay?”

“She, ken. The infant is a she.”

She climbed all over Ken, trying to get to Mina with little giggles. You tilted your head to the side. “She’s kinda… cute.” You murmured.

“Her breathing seems normal. Reflexes okay. Heart rate seems slightly elevated, but-“

Ken grabbed her again, holding her in his hands. “Just give me the bad news.”

“I have absolutely no specific data on infant kaiju physiology.”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” He chuckled, putting the baby down. She eyed you curiously, and cooed a few times at you, reaching out. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mom and dad program everything they knew about these things into your electric brain.”

She began to walk towards you before Ken grabbed her again, pulling her towards him making you laugh when she had a little sad frown.

“She is not a thing, Ken. And we’ve never seen an infant kaiju. In fact, no one has.”

“Great, super helpful.” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, I think I’d be better off asking Siri.” He retorted, you rolling your eyes.

“I mean, Mina’s not the one that brought a giant freaking kaiju baby home, Ken.” You pointed out, he rolled his eyes and turned to you.

“Well, we have to figure something out. We can’t raise a damn… kaiju baby.” He told you, putting the baby back in front of him and groaning in annoyance when his color timer started beeping again. “Great.” He sighed, looking back at the baby when he realized something.

“Um…” he chuckled. “Why is she changing colors?” He pointed to her.

“Maybe you should ask Siri.” Mina retorted, making you stifle a laugh.

He chuckled. “Do not start, Mina.” He pointed at the robot in front of him.

“If I were to guess, Ken, I’d say she has imprinted on you.” She began to chew on his color timer, he quickly stood up and shook his head. “No. No. No, no! No, no, no!” He plucked the baby off of him, holding her out in front of himself. “Are you saying-“

“Yes, Ken. She thinks you are her mother.”

You had to laugh now, he bumped his head up onto the roof, letting out a yelp.

“I- I am not built for this! I’ve got a life. A title to win!” He groaned. “You do something nice and now I’m babysitting a giant- pink lizard thing!” He shouted. “We’ve gotta get it out of here.”

“And where would we put her?” You asked with a quirked eyebrow.

He groaned, looking down at you. His timer started beeping again. “Oh! Oh, oh, oh, we’ll take her to kaiju island!”

“Unfortunately, Ken, no one knows where to find it.” Mina points out.

He sighed, looking down. “Come on!”

The beeping on his timer became more rapid.

“Ken, it would be very bad if you changed back right now.” Mina said, as if he didn’t already know that.

A large burst of light and he was falling back down to you, you watching him thud onto the ground with a grunt.

He stood up, stretching before turning back to the baby behind him. He chuckled nervously, waving. “Hi…”

The baby’s face changed, her smile turning into a frown as she began to sob out, she let out a screech, large beams of light and energy coming from her mouth.

Kenji screamed, turning back to you and ducking down and grabbing you, pulling you flush to his body as he rolled over. All his cars had fallen, causing him to gasp out. You winced.

“What the heck was that?!” He shouted at the baby, you both standing back up, Ken still in front of you.

She let out more circles of energy, causing the both of you to run.

“She’s scared of you.” Mina spoke.

“Scared of me? She’s 20 feet tall!” He exclaimed.

“She doesn’t know you, she only knows ultraman!”

“Mina! Containment unit!” He yelled when you both had to continue dodging her attacks while running.

“Which one?!”

“The biggest one!” He shouted at her, you both finally panting and turning around when her screeching had stopped and there was no more attacks.

She was now in a giant glass container, her hands and claws on the glass, cooing with a sad face. Kenji sighed in relief. “Oh, God.”

You sighed as well, hitting your husband on his shoulder. “You’re cleaning this place up.”

“Oh, seriously?” He murmured, looking around.

“Hey, you’re her mother, not me.” You teased.

He groaned and shook his head at you. “I’m not her mother.”

“She thinks you are.”

He just rolled his eyes, lightly shoving your shoulder. “I hate you sometimes.” He murmured.

“You love me.”

[xxsugarbones]

cw - afab!plus size!reader, mating press, pet names, brief face slapping, Toji himself is a warning (I need him carnally), once again barely proofread 🫡

wc - 540

a/n - you know what time it is 🌶️

divider credit - @/cafekitsune

Toji fucking you in a mean mating press, your thighs pressed all the way up against your chest and pushing your tits up with each rough thrust so much it restricted your breathing. Ankles wrapped around the back of his neck, interlocking and keeping his face near and close to your own. And your hands desperately grabbing at his biceps to try and ground yourself- to save yourself from going absolutely dumb on his fat cock.

“Eyes on me, doll.” He cooed, his hips smacking flush against the fat of your ass and sheathing himself deep inside you. So deep you could feel it in your stomach. You did your best to focus your glossy eyes on him, mouth dropping open into that delicious ‘o’ shape, and your eyebrows pinching together to try and stop tears from spilling down your cheeks. Your fucked out expression made the man laugh and his cock jump inside you.

“Ooo fucked out already are we? So sweet.” He purred, leaning his face back and bringing one hand up to slap your cheek once, twice, three times to get your focus back on him. The smacks sent sparks of electricity through your body, and you sobbed as you met his gaze again. “There you are. Hi, doll.” He licked his lips, before continuing his merciless pace, fucking into you with that same aggression that had been sending you cross-eyed moments before.

As he hammered his hips down against your ass, dick rubbing up against the gummy walls of your pussy in such a filthy display of ownership you began to lose it. Your brain melted between your ears and those same tears from before finally spilled down your chubby cheeks. Each smack of skin against skin was followed by a breathy, “ah!”, “ah!”, “ah!”, and it was driving Toji fucking insane. His lips pulled back into a soft sneer, before his face morphed. You focused in just enough to notice he was mocking you. He copied your slack-jawed, half lidded expression with a cheeky glint behind his eyes, and his next few thrusts were followed with him mocking your moans, his voice a slightly higher octave to mimic your voice. He was simply expecting you to be embarrassed, to blush and cover your face, sob and whine his name with that pretty voice. What he didn’t expect was the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your hands balling into tight fists and slamming against his biceps, or the way your pussy clamped down around him.

“FUCK, Toji, m’cumming!!” You cried, digging your nails into his taught skin as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Toji’s breath hitched at how tight you constricted his cock, walls pulsing around him sporadically.

“Freaky fucking girl. My moaning gets you off huh?” His hips never once stopped as he fucked you through your orgasm. You quickly nodded your head, trying to arch your back so you could take a breath, but he simply pushed you back down with his body weight. Your eyes grew hazy as pure ecstasy took over you, and he licked his lips.

“Guess I’ll just have to be a little more vocal for you from now on, hey mama?”

[bunnyreaper]

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘

𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝖕𝖙 5 — 𝖕𝖙 4 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

wc - 7.6k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom/sub dynamic, petplay (as always), thigh riding, pussy eating, johnny gives reader a piggyback ride.

notes - it's here! and my life and health is worse for it, but it's here! please don't expect the next part any time soon, but thank you to those patiently waiting ♥ also on ao3! ♥

"Told you, pet, this mouth is mine now."

Johnny's mouth continues its loving assault on yours, overwhelming you with his kisses. It's filled with the same passion as the first time, but now Johnny's heat seeps straight from his bones and into you. 

His hands fall to your wrists, his touch warm and caressing and pinning you ever so slightly in place—just enough to keep you still, not enough to really restrict you. 

It's Johnny who pulls away from you, an exhaled fuck falling from his lips—your eyes flutter open to meet his, the baby blues flooded with lust. 

His gaze flickers to your lips before he whispers. "I dinnae want to stop kissing ye." 

He steals your breath with both the words and the feeling of his lips when they return to yours, each slide against you as if he's stealing them, afraid he won't get another for too long. Though with Johnny, you get the feeling any second your lips aren't connected to his are ones he wishes for nothing else. 

"Yeah, fuck..." You sigh as Johnny pulls away, his grip loosening as his forehead settles against yours. 

Neither of you can fight the smiles on your faces, as you both bask in each other's joy, and the rush of endorphins and arousal running through you. 

Johnny always makes you feel electric.

He laughs breathlessly, eyes sparkling with mirth as you can see him try to restrain himself. "'Spose I should let ye get settled first before I ravage ye." 

"I have no complaints if you don't." You giggle in return, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before willing yourself to pull away too. "But yeah, probably a good idea."

If both of you had less self-control, you had no doubts the tension could have pushed you into rutting in the entryway like rabid dogs, only managing to bare yourselves just enough to have Johnny sink inside you. From the look in his eyes and the feeling of his hardness pressed against you, he wants to take you here and now—but he's nothing if not a gentleman. 

You have no doubt that your own glassy eyes and soaked panties betray your need just the same, and there's a desperate, animalistic part of your brain that wants to drag him inside by the belt so that you can fall to your knees before him. 

Johnny straightens himself up, taking ahold of your hand and preparing to head into the flat proper. "Want the tour of the place?" 

You nod eagerly. "Of course." 

You pull your hand free for just a moment to abandon your shoes by the door-—leaving them amongst the existing pile of boots, which Johnny only adds to with his own.

With your hands reconnected and fingers intertwined, he guides you into the warmth of the flat. 

"I mean, the place is tiny, so it won't take long." He jokes, as he pulls you in further and throws his keys on the countertop. "Tada, living room and kitchen all in one." 

You take in the open space around you—the room flooded with moonlight and a faint glow from under the kitchen cupboards, as well as a lamp that's lit in the corner. The ceilings are high, and the floors are wooden—the kitchen and living room combined to create a large, albeit cosy room.

"Nice and spacious! I like that it's open plan." You coo, as Johnny paces forward, and you allow him to guide you. Your eyes rove over everything, from the well-worn couch to the framed photos of him and his squad, or the pictures of wild-eyed kids that can only be Johnny's nieces and nephews. 

"Aye. Can have ye curled up on the couch while am cooking, terribly, mind ye." Johnny nudges you playfully with his hip, drawing your attention back to the radiant smile on his face.

You follow him down a small corridor with doors on both sides. The door to the left opens into a bathroom with a large, walk-in, waterfall shower, illuminated with soft lighting when Johnny flicks the switch.

"Bathroom, with no bath." He explains, before his expression flickers to something briefly resembling a kicked puppy. "Bit sad about tha'." 

"Are you a bath man?" You ask, your mind visualising the muscular man indulging in rich aromas and piles of bubbles—it serves as quite the entertaining mental image. And then your mind flickers to him in the shower, water cascading down his toned body, knots in his shoulders just begging for relaxation...

"Absolutely. And if yer not into baths, I think I know just the way to convert ye." His hand squeezes yours playfully as he throws you a wink, and you're left wondering if he could somehow sense that your thoughts have turned dirty.

"I like the sound of that." 

Finally, you cross the hallway into the bedroom—a room filled with a mixture of earth tones and navy blues, the place is clean and tidy, beside the pile of clothes and various other things piled onto the chair in the corner. 

"And where we'll be staying, unless you'd prefer I sleep on the couch." 

You don't miss the sheepish look on his face, the look that tells you that sleeping apart from you is the last thing he'd rather do tonight—but you know that he'd do it in a heartbeat if you asked. 

Stepping closer into his space, you lace your other hand in his and sway them back and forth, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I will be falling asleep on your chest. That's non-negotiable, Johnny." 

"I'm glad tae hear." He pushes himself forward to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment after. "Can be ma little blanket for the night." 

"... But aye, that's about it." He gestures to the room with one of your intertwined hands.

"It's cosy here, I like it." You comment with a smile, taking in the welcoming atmosphere of the room—the hints that the place is lived in. 

Johnny comments as he moves closer to your ear—his breath warm as it flutters over your skin. "Hopefully, the first visit of many." 

"I hope so too. I'll be leaving my toothbrush here before you know it." 

You pull yourself from Johnny's hold, falling back onto the mattress and allowing your dress to ride up your legs as you prop yourself up on your elbows and stare at Johnny temptingly.

Your eyes trail over his body, savouring every delicious inch that is John MacTavish. His eyes chart a similar path, following up your exposed thighs. 

"Anyway, I think I'm all settled in now." You purr, trying to coax him back into kissing you like he was earlier. 

"Steamin' jesus." He all but growls as he comes closer, crawling over you and leaning down near to your lips as his arms cage you in. "Someone's a needy pup." 

With his face hovering inches from yours, you relish the opportunity to drink him all in. His baby blues sparkle with lust and fondness as they peer down at you, slightly hidden behind hooded lids. His eyelashes flutter so prettily, bouncing off his sweet, stubbled cheeks. 

Your eyes fall to his soft lips, the scar underlining them that you want to trace your thumb and tongue across—learn the story of. 

"Kiss me again, Johnny, please." You whisper softly, as one of his hands begins to stroke the top of your head. 

"Askin' so nicely, how can I say no?" He smirks one last time before closing the gap, both of your eyes fluttering shut as your lips finally reconnect. 

There's never a moment when Johnny's lips don't feel heavenly—he kisses you like a man starved and allows his hips to falter and press against your core. His clothed erection rubs against your centre, the denim pushing across your thin panties and sending your brain spinning. 

It's instinct when you buck your hips up into his, chasing more contact from his throbbing length. The more time you spend around Johnny, the more intoxicated you become on his presence—your hesitations melt away, replaced by an overwhelming need that's only sated when Johnny is pressed against you. 

The moan that leaves your throat is entirely accidental, but causes Johnny to buck against you and groan right back at you—after the moment of slipped control, he stills.  

"Bonnie..." Johnny pulls away, a soft, hesitant look in his eyes as he tries his hardest to hold back. "I meant what I said about not expecting anything." 

For a moment, you feel awful, like a temptress pushing him to the limits of his self-restraint—but your own desires swirl inside you dangerously, with every moment with Johnny only adding fuel to the fire. 

The fact Johnny can want you so passionately and still remain firmly in charge of the both of you only reinforces the disgustingly puppylike crush you have on him.

"I know. I'm just enjoying kissing you properly." You sigh before taking a deep breath to release some of your pent-up arousal. 

"Aye, me too." He continues to stroke at the top of your head as his thumb brushes across your warm cheek, making you shiver. "Hard to keep ma hands to myself." 

"Yeah, tell me about it." Your hands rake down his chest, slowing once you feel the hardness of his abs beneath the cotton.

Johnny's hand falls to clutch your wrists, stilling your exploration of his body. The look in his eyes is all cheek and charm. "I should get you fed." 

"Boo."

The look turns ever so slightly warning. "Pup, Johnny knows best, aye?" 

"To the kitchen!" You announce cheerfully, breaking through the tension of the moment and redirecting the both of you before you end up wrapping your legs around Johnny and refusing to let go until he's spilled himself inside you.

With a breathy laugh, Johnny stands from the bed, turning around and offering his back for you to climb upon. When he finally has you safely stowed on him, his fingers gripping at your thighs as your arms wrap around his neck, he carries you to the kitchen.

Johnny doesn't let you back down to the floor immediately, instead heading to the fridge with you still clinging to him like a koala.

"Probably should've asked ye what toppings you wanted, but I just grabbed a bit of everything." He explains as he opens the door and reveals a shelf bursting with cheeses, vegetables, and meats. 

You quickly scan the shelf for any nasty surprises like the anchovies or olives Johnny had mentioned on the way over, and find yourself relieved that everything on offer is delicious—with some of your favourite pizza toppings even there. "So much choice, and nothing disgusting, I'm surprised, Johnny." 

"Hey now, I do have taste... sometimes." The pout in his voice is evident as he shuffles you further up his back before removing the hold of one of his hands to start removing the dough, sauce, and toppings so he can set them atop the counter. 

Your eyes fall to the rest of the shelves, with the vast majority of them being stacked with the same plastic poultry liners. "Johnny, your fridge is 90% plain chicken breast, I'm not sure that I trust that." 

"Well, actually, some of that is turkey." He smirks, until you lean forward into his sight-line with a grumpy look on your face. "Dinnae go glaring at me, bonnie girl." 

"Clearly I need to be fed so I have less of an attitude." You huff, playfully teasing him about his earlier interruption to your fun.

Johnny finally lowers you to the ground, setting you beside him before he grabs the final few ingredients. "I'm working on it!"

With everything ready and set out, you start to plan out the deliciousness that will be your creation. Everything Johnny picked out is fresh and delicious, and almost calling out to you to be a part of your meal. You rush to wash your hands so you can get started. 

"I feel like I'm gonna pick too many toppings and my pizza will just be a mess." You explain as you start to open a few packets while Johnny moves to the sink. "What are you having?" 

"Lil bit of everything, why no'?" He shrugs, the smile on his face wide and infectious.

"I'm so excited!" You giggle, already thoroughly enjoying your little pizza party with Johnny. As you watch Johnny dry his hands and then begin to work the dough, a mischievous thought pops into your head. "It's a shame we didn't make the dough from scratch, though." 

As soon as Johnny looks at you, he knows exactly where your thoughts have headed, and his face splits with an amused grin. "So ye could throw flour at me?"

"Flour fight, exactly." You nod. 

Johnny sets down the dough, moving into your space and grabbing you by the hips to spin you to face him. He looms over you— grin now devilish, eyes sharp and tone teasing. "I'd win, hen, dinnae think otherwise." 

You bite your lip, staring up at Johnny and shivering under his touch. "Hmm, you'd be covered in flour and looking so good, so I think I'd really be the winner."

"Next time, then." He purrs as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. He pulls away after a few moments, yet lingers in your space and sends heat rushing through your veins.

"I suppose I could still smear sauce all over you." You tease, your arousal making you even more daring and flirtatious.

"Just askin' fer trouble with tha'." He growls, pulling you flush against his body as he pulls his lip between his teeth.

"Oh no... how terrible." 

One hand moves in a flash, slapping lightly and groping at your ass as Johnny rubs himself against you. "Ye won't be saying that when yer arse is red raw." He groans in your ear. 

"You wouldn't be spanking me when I'm too busy licking the sauce off your face." You giggle, squirming under his touch. Brattiness isn't your usual go-to around Johnny, but sometimes he just inspires it.

"Dirty fuckin' pup." He growls, his voice almost feral and animalistic in the way it rips from his throat.

He holds your gaze, commanding you with just a look as he removes his hands and leans to the counter. He returns with the jar, popping open the lid with ease before offering it to you. 

"Go awn then." He commands, his expression serious as he urges the jar closer to you. 

You glance between him and the jar, uncertain of what he's asking for a moment before the realisation hits—he's making you cover him in the sauce.  

The moment stretches on in the heavy silence, as Johnny stares you down with an expectant look, waiting for you to comply. You timidly dip your finger into the sauce, hand trembling as you move to swipe it across Johnny's cheek. You assume he's going to messily return the favour, but he just continues to hold your gaze. 

"Now lick it." He whispers, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

You can't help but comply, pushing yourself up close to his face and darting out your tongue just enough to clean his stubbled cheek. 

It's then he grips you again, stilling you in place as you're draped across his body. "Good fucking girl." He purrs, and then returns the favour—gripping your cheek with one hand and smearing your face with sauce with the other. 

Then he licks you, long tongue trailing slowly up your cheek and leaving you wet and squirming. 

"Johnny, ew!" You giggle wildly, almost feeling tickled by his tongue against your skin. 

"Ew? Really, lass? Won't be saying tha' later when it's my tongue in yer cunt." He makes sure his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he continues to tease you with his words. "Won't be sayin' tha' later when I have ye slobbering all over my cock."

He punctuates the last sentence by pulling you tight against him once more, making you feel the weight of his throbbing cock against you. You find your self-control rapidly slipping once more, especially when his lips dip to press kisses to the bare expense of your neck.

"Mercy, please." You squeal, attempting to wiggle free from his hold. "Otherwise, we might have to abandon the pizzas."

Luckily, Johnny is feeling kind as he pulls away and gives you space—yet the glint in his eye remains. 

"Mercy, for now."

You and Johnny try your best to focus on making the pizzas without further incident—listening to early 2000s pop punk and exchanging little bits and pieces of conversation. He informs you that his Captain's house is more in the countryside and has a proper brick pizza oven in the garden that gets used precisely once a year when he throws a birthday party for Gaz.  

It makes you chuckle how Johnny seems to enthuse about how much better the pizzas are when they aren't made in his "shitty little electric oven". It also makes your heart swell when Johnny mentions how Gaz's birthday is just around the corner, and that you have to come with him to the party. 

When Johnny pulls your pizzas from the oven, you're surprised to see they both managed to cook well despite the pile of toppings and cheese.

The two of you eat your gooey pizzas as you curl up on the couch and watch an episode of Midsomer Murders. Admittedly, you'd been sceptical at first, and a little confused as to why a man in his late 20s was so into a show you watched growing up with your aunt. Then you heard his enthusiasm for solving the cases, and couldn't bring yourself to care about the slightly amateurish acting or the way the theme tune reminded you of the smell of her house. 

When you realise halfway through that you're pretty sure Johnny's guesswork about the case is wrong, you feel your puppy love grow at least ten sizes, and say nothing as you watch the misguided enthusiasm and smugness sparkle in his eyes.

After a second episode finishes, you ready yourself to head back to the kitchen with the plates but find yourself stilled as Johnny grabs your wrist.

"Do you not want help with the dishes?" You ask, head tilted slightly in confusion.

"Maybe later." Johnny pulls you back down onto the couch before fixing you with a look that makes your cheeks flush. His hand finds its way to your face, cupping your burning skin as his thumb traces over your lips with intent.

"Oh, later, I see." You can't help but smile, and Johnny's thumb chases the newfound curve of your lips. 

A lustful fire ignites in the pit of your stomach as you watch Johnny's eyes fixate on your lips, and you notice his pupils are blooming with arousal. 

It's instinctual and automatic, the way you feel your body call out to connect with Johnny's once more, and you give in to the magnetic pull as you climb into his lap and settle atop him. Your hands curl around the thick column of the back of his neck, steadying yourself as you squirm around to get comfortable.

Johnny's large hands cling to your hips—a warning grip stilling you as his cock stirs to life underneath your core and pushes harsh denim against the soft cotton of your panties. 

"Bonnie." The word is growled, yet wrapped in playfulness, as his eyes flare with warning and his fingers continue to dig into the plush of your hips.

"Yes?" You coo innocently. 

"Careful now." 

"I just want to kiss you." You whine, while resisting the urge to grind down on Johnny's length. Instead, your lips fall to kiss his stubbled jaw, and the protruding veins on the side of his neck. "Can't get enough of you." 

Your own words break the dam of your self-restraint, as you give in to your urges and chase the bolts of pleasure that course through you, nudging your clit back and forth against the cock you crave so badly. 

"Neither can I." He whispers brusquely, the words sounding throatier as you continue to kiss him and writhe against him. His hands guide your hips along your path, each thrust earning you a growl from deep within his chest. "Ye drive me mad, steamin' fuckin' jesus." 

Your hips continue to writhe on instinct, addicted to the feeling of rocking on Johnny's bulge and the way the sensation ebbs at consciousness and makes your brain cottony around the edges. You nuzzle into Johnny's neck, seeking comfort and closeness as you continue to slip deeper and deeper.

"Johnny, I'm going crazy, I need you." Your words are whined against his skin, desperate pleas appealing to his baser instincts, practically begging him to just give in and take you already. The impulsive voice in the back of your head chants his name over and over again, as it always does. 

This time it's stronger, overwhelmingly so, as you're wrapped in his arms and able to melt into his touch. 

"Ya have me, pet." He whispers—holding you close, nuzzling you back, and pressing the gentlest of kisses to the top of your head. "'m all yours." 

Johnny continues working his hips up into your core, meeting you thrust for thrust and grind for grind. The sensation of your bodies meeting draws groans from his throat, each erratic connection making you both tremble.

Your eyes meet, an intense connection as Johnny's eyes search yours—him seeming to read every little flicker of emotion within them. Whatever he sees there spurs him into action, as he repositions his grip and redirects you—widening his legs before he pushes you down against his thick, denim-clad thigh.

"Tha's better." He sighs, immediately moving your hips again for you, rubbing your pussy across his muscle and giving you much-needed contact.

You find your rhythm quickly, working with Johnny to build delicious friction—the heightened sensations and connection have you overly sensitive, your blood fizzing all over your body just at being able to grind against Johnny. You know he's going to ruin you when things really start to escalate. You also know you're not going to last long at all.

"Humping my thigh like a good pup." Johnny groans as he buries himself into the crook of your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your skin—you tilt your head to accommodate him getting access to wherever his mouth pleases. 

"Gonna leave a wet spot." You feel the way your wet panties are clinging to your folds and know some of your arousal is leaking through to the denim beneath. 

Johnny growls, his thigh pushing up to meet you more firmly, as if begging to be soiled further. "Go awn, soak ma jeans." 

"Johnny..." 

"Sound so pretty whinin' fer me, whimperin'." He purrs straight into your ear, making your back arch as your skin tingles all over. "Gonna bark for me?" 

You quickly shake your head before hiding in Johnny's chest, cheeks ablaze. "'m shy." You whisper, hoping said reservedness won't disappoint him. 

One of Johnny's hands makes its way up your body, stopping to stroke the top of your head soothingly. "It's okay, pup, it'll come." He reassures you, not let down in the slightest. "Jus' keep grinding."

Your hips move with renewed fervour, chasing the rapidly building high that twists and coils in your stomach. Pleasure radiates out from your core, flowing through your veins and clouding your brain—refocusing yourself entirely on being good for Johnny.

"Feels good?" Johnny asks in response to your escalating whines and moans. "Use yer words for me."

Words are hard to form when your throat is so tightened and your mind so blissed out, but you have to obey. Each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge, closer to your reward. The tension between you and Johnny has been building for so long, with your need rapidly spiralling from the moment the two of you first started talking.

You need the release, need to cum under Johnny's touch and command—finally let him into your mind where his commands will make their home. As your thighs tremble around Johnny's, you force yourself to summon the strength to lift your head, to use your words just like Johnny had asked. 

"Feels good, so close." You admit, voice not above a whisper as you get hypnotised by the sparkling blue eyes that are hidden by hooded lids. 

Johnny is looking at you like he's going to devour you, and all you've done so far is rub your slick cunt all over his thigh. You shiver with the thought of just how much more intensity can build between you—you wonder how you're going to survive it.  

"Needy pup, want ye tae cum fer me. Jus' fer me." One of Johnny's hands now cups your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes locked onto his as you continue to writhe wildly against him.

His words push you so much closer, your brain waiting for his word as you try your hardest to not cum even a second before he tells you too. 

"Can ye do that, pet?" 

You nod mindlessly as your body goes into overdrive, the pressure making your body coil tighter as your brain finally fizzles out of any coherent thought. All you can do is keep your eyes fixed on Johnny, as you replay his words over and over in your head. 

Pet. Pup. Hump. Whine. 

Operating entirely on instinct, your mouth falls open, tongue lolling out as you pant and whine—right on the edge, waiting. As if in your thoughts, Johnny senses that you're right at the edge, as his thigh tenses to be the perfect surface for you to rub against, and his hand forces your cunt down even more snugly before. 

"Pretty pup, tha's it." He coos, voice dripping with sweet, gentle authority. "Cum fer me."

With his command finally whispered, you buck one more and fly over the edge, straight into the ecstasy of a blinding orgasm—one that's weeks in the making. 

Johnny continues to coax you through it, whispered praise and encouragement accompanying every little aftershock until you practically collapse against his chest. 

"Oh my god, that was..." You struggle to breathe, still struggle to think as you sink into Johnny's embrace. "I needed that, thank you."

Soft touches adorn every inch of your body, Johnny petting you sweetly and embracing the sensitivity of your skin in the afterglow. "My pleasure. Ye were such a good girl fer me." 

"Sorry about your jeans. And you not—"

Johnny doesn't let you finish your unnecessary apologies. "Dinnae be." 

He pulls you even closer, arms wrapping around your waist and back and holding you in a tight, reassuring embrace as the both of you come back down to normalcy. You can practically feel the smile on Johnny's lips with every kiss against your forehead, and his unbridled joy is still radiating off of him when you finally lean up to reconnect your lips with his. 

After a few sweet pecks, you find yourself burrowing back into his chest as you try to suppress a yawn. 

"Tired, bonnie?" Johnny asks, voice quiet. 

You respond simply with a gentle nod.

"Let's get you to bed, then." He chuckles, tapping the backs of your thighs to encourage you to stand. 

You can't help but whine just a little, entirely resistant to moving even if Johnny's bed is only a short walk away. "It's too early to sleep." You try to reason, even if you have no clue of the time.

Johnny presses another kiss to your forehead—his smirk cheeky and eyes bright. "Who said we'd be sleeping?" 

With assistance from Johnny, you sleepily stumble to his bedroom and immediately plop yourself down on the edge of the mattress while Johnny fetches your forgotten bags from the entryway. 

Your orgasm has left you a little boneless and ignited an even stronger craving for connection with Johnny. He parts from you for even a moment, and your body calls out to be cuddled up with him again.

Luckily, he returns quickly, setting the bag down beside you so you can sleepily rifle through the bag for your pyjamas.

When you finally locate the silky set, you urge yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom. Johnny stops you by the wrists before you can reach the door. 

"Where are ye going?" He asks, an adorable look of confusion on his face. 

"To get changed." You explain, trying to stop your voice from trembling with nerves. Despite just cumming on this man's thigh, there's something startling about the vulnerability of changing before him that makes your walls shoot up and your body stiffen. 

Johnny's thumb runs over your wrist, as his expression softens, and he releases his hold.

"'s okay." He nods, turning to grab his own pyjama bottoms and beating you out of the door to the bathroom, leaving you in the comfort of his room. "Shout me when yer done, aye?"

The door clicks shut behind Johnny, as your heart fills with warmth at his easy and sweet accommodation of you. 

You slip off your dress first, folding it semi-neatly and slipping into the bag before you opt to slip off your panties too—they're still soaked through from your earlier activities and were clinging to your folds almost uncomfortably. You quickly shimmy on the matching silk set—cute shorts with a cami top, as you try to remember the confidence you felt when trying the set on.

You call out to Johnny, beckoning him back into the room and hoping his reaction to your outfit is everything you could hope for.

When Johnny slips round the door, his eyes almost jump out of his head—though you're sure yours are doing the same. "Fuckin' christ, bonnie." 

Your eyes rake down Johnny's body just as he does you—his chest is bare, and his plaid pyjama bottoms are slung low on his hips. You can't tear your eyes away, as they dart around taking in every little feature—the broad muscles, slight dusting of hair, or constellation of scars and freckles all down his torso. It's hard to decide which part of him is the most delicious, the most deserving of your eyes' attention. 

"Christ yourself." You whisper, completely in awe. 

Johnny steps forward, taking your hands in his and pulling you into his warmth. His smile is adoring, his eyes showing nothing but reverence as he takes in every detail of you—you wonder if he's recognised just what you've done. 

"You look so good, I wanna eat you." His words are purred into your neck as he presses kisses along your skin, and his hands slip all over your silky skin and barely-there clothes. His hands find their way to the hem of your top, pausing slightly as if asking for consent. 

"Johnny..." You whine as you turn your head nervously, shielding your embarrassed expression from view and desperately hoping you don't have to explain yourself further. 

He cups your jaw tenderly, without any intention of turning you to face him. His voice is just as considerate. "Nervous?" 

"I know it's silly, but..." You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. 

I'm scared you won't like what you see. 

I'm scared you'll leave once you get what you want. 

I'm scared I won't compare to what you imagined, to what you deserve. 

Johnny can sense it all, or at least some of it—as his eyes briefly flare with intense worry. He pulls away before you can ask, flicking the light switch and plunging you both into inky darkness—the room only illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. 

"How's this, hen?" He asks, finding his way back to you.

Somehow, the barely-there lighting of the room feels like a safety blanket—a joyous hiding-in-the-pillow fort feeling, instead of being subjected to a spotlight that seems to amplify all your insecurities.

"Better." Your smile is genuine as you reposition atop the bed, pulling Johnny with you gently as you seek comfort. The two of you scramble up the bed, laying over the covers and facing each other—just inside each other's embrace. 

Johnny's handsome features are visible enough in the dim, with his easy smile still lighting up the room. "Will just have to feel ma way around... if tha's okay." 

"Touch but don't look, instead of the other way around." You laugh, the act releasing some of your pent-up worry. Your hand chases Johnny's, moving it from the bed to your body and encouraging him to touch you. "Sounds good to me." 

"That's ma girl. Ye feel fucking divine." He sighs his words into your skin, leaning forward for a kiss as his hand dips under the fabric of your top and rests on the curve of your waist. His thumb still appreciatively strokes across the satin of your pyjamas.

"I bought these just for you." You admit, voice a soft whisper. 

"Did ye pick the colour of my eyes on purpose, pet?" 

So he had noticed, you think. "Yeah..."

Johnny's easy expression falters for a moment, his usual confidence wavering in the face of such a heartfelt act. 

"Fuckin' christ." His hand squeezes at your side as he lets out a shaky sigh. "And as if I wasn't hard enough."

"Oh?" Your hand reaches out to rest on Johnny's chest, fingers raking down slightly on your path of exploration, headed straight for the waistband of his bottoms where your ignited curiosity is focused. 

Your fingers itch to feel his cock again, remembering how deliciously hard and huge he had felt under your touch in the café. This time, you could feel him without reservation, and experience exactly the effect you have on him without any barriers of material or propriety. 

His eyebrow arches at the action, and his eyes sparkle interest. "Bonnie, where's tha' hand going?"

"I wanna feel it, please." You whisper, accompanying your words with a teasing touch as you slip your thumb under the waistband and tug at the elastic. 

Another tremulous exhale passes his lips before he pulls the lower one between his teeth. "When ye beg like tha’, how can I say no?"

Your hand dives below his waistband as you eagerly wrap your hand around the satiny smooth skin of his cock—feeling the bulging veins and the way the tip leaks with sticky pre.

“Fuck.” You continue to explore his length, stroking slowly and reverently as you watch his face for his reactions—relishing in each quiver of his brows or flutter of his lashes. “Honestly, I don't know how I got this far without begging you to show it to me.”

He chuckles as his hips buck slightly to meet your touch, frenetic energy building inside of him. “Guess for now you’ll just have to keep feelin’. Make up fer lost time.”

“Johnny…” 

“Yes, puppy?”

You stroke down to the base, gripping it firmly for a moment as you speak. "There's no way you're fitting that inside me—" 

Johnny's eyes flare with ravenous need, his smile turning delightfully sinful before he devours your protests with a messy kiss—a hand gripping at your chin. 

"Shhh, I know that pretty cunny can take me." He purrs his words into your mouth, forcing you to practically swallow them and all of their intensity. "When the time comes, we'll go slow. I'll take care of ye, train my puppy to take me."

Your body squirms involuntarily, arousal and surrender washing over you in waves as Johnny's authoritative tone melts you back into a submissive headspace. 

"Your mouth is evil, Johnny." You whine and shiver. "You know what you do to me, right?" 

"I have an idea." He smirks, as the hand gripping your down trails down your neck and over your body before stopping at your waistband for permission. "Wouldnae mind more of one, though, if tha's okay." 

"Please."

It's impossible to hold back your gasp as Johnny's thick fingers finally slide in between your soaked folds and make contact with your sensitive clit. 

He swipes through your wetness repeatedly, dipping down to tease at your entrance before pulling more slick over your clit and swirling it easily with his fingers. You curl into him slightly, forehead falling against his as your legs fall apart, and you surrender to his touch. 

Each stroke feels electric, and your hips rise and fall to chase every little sensation you get from the way he explores you. You find your eyes drifting shut from the pleasure, and the need to shield yourself from the intensity of his hungry stare. 

"Fuck, drippin' fer me." His voice is lower, coming from deeper in his chest, as you feel his dick throb. He's stopped rutting into your hand, instead focused entirely on you.

"... When I got home after our date, I was soaked right through." You admit, voice shaky and unsteady and wracked with pleasure. The glow radiates outwards from your core, coiling in your stomach. Despite your earlier release, your need is still overwhelming—Johnny's touch feeling better than anything you've felt in so long.

"Always makin' a mess. Making a mess on ma fingers right now."

"I can't help it." You whimper helplessly, and even more so when Johnny's fingers withdraw from your folds and leave your cunt aching for him. 

Your eyes fly open in time to watch him take the soaked digits in his mouth, cleaning your mess off of them with his tongue as he gives you an intense, unwavering look that makes your cheeks blaze.

"Taste heavenly, bonnie. Think I need more of a taste, though." He grins, his eyes raging with a hunger that makes your stomach flip.

"Fuck," You sigh, wanting his mouth on you and yet feeling a sense of guilt for even thinking about letting him. "I... I should get you off first." 

You return to stroking his length, your movements having stilled as he had focused on you, but his hand moves to grip your wrist—stilling it in its tracks. 

"Lass, if you give me the word, there's nothin' coming between me and eating tha' kitty of yours. Not even my own cock." 

The certainty in his tone and his look almost have you convinced, but that niggle of insecurity and worry still lingers in the back of your mind, urging you to deny yourself of the pleasures Johnny can give you.

"I don't usually..." You trail off, struggling to finish your sentence. Part of you wants to say you don't let guys go down on you, but it's not like the last one even cared to offer.

You haven't even told Johnny any details, yet he seems enthusiastic enough to compensate for any of the experiences you've had in the past. 

His expression cycles through a myriad of emotions—confusion, sadness, and anger, before he settles on a soft yet determined look.

"Do you want me to go down on ye?" 

"Yes." Your answer slips out far too quickly, but the thought of his mouth on your cunt makes your head spin.

His hand returns to cup your cheek, stroking reassuringly as his eyes plead with you. "Then please, bonnie." 

You swallow, pushing away the voices in the back of your head as you nod, and Johnny scrambles down the bed. 

He pulls down your shorts and tosses them aside, before his arms wrap around your thighs to pull them apart. His lips quickly find their way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, kissing and licking and biting ever so slightly as you squirm helplessly beneath him. 

His muscular arms keep your lower body exactly where he wants you, as his kisses move higher and higher before they press the outside of your folds and make you cry out. 

"Poor little neglected kitty." He coos, before pressing more kisses to your lips. 

"Johnny—"

"Shh." He interrupts you sharply yet playfully, looking up from between your legs and fixing you with a light-hearted glare. "Am making introductions." 

He refocuses his attention back on your cunt, a hand moving so he can stroke his thumb back and forth over your sensitive nub while he coos sweet nothings into your centre.

"Need someone to take care of ye? I'm a good owner, promise." He dives in and captures your clit in an open-mouthed kiss, sucking slightly before pulling off with a pop. "Know how tae play with ye just right."

It's overwhelming, the way he talks and the fact he's talking to your cunt like it's separate from you, and yet something he's just enamoured with. 

He starts eating you in earnest, tongue swiping up and down your folds, stubble rubbing against your skin—sweet, hot pleasure trickles through you with every little sensation, and you know you're not going to last long under Johnny's mouth.

"Fuck, can't wait to see ye properly. Pretty pussy, all fer me." 

He dives back in, all tongue and lips and slick, wet heat as he makes love to your clit and folds with his mouth—drawing out every whine and whimper you're capable of making. 

"Oh my god," You gasp, hand falling to his head so your fingers can tangle in his hair. "You're so good fucking with your tongue." 

When he pulls back to talk, his lips glisten with your arousal. "'m not just talk, bonnie. Think ye can take my fingers too?"

"Please, please." You beg, almost urging him back to your core as his fingers circle your entrance before slowly sinking in. 

The two digits stretch you slowly, getting you accustomed to the assault before his tongue is on your clit again, all of him working in tandem to make you shiver and squirm. Your cunt squelches with each thrust and lick, Johnny forcing more arousal to leak from your pretty hole as he lavishes you with attention and pleasure. 

"Such pretty sounds." He mumbles, though his eyes don't meet yours.

"Do you mean me or..." You swallow nervously, shyness overtaking you as you summon the words to address yourself. "...her?" 

"Both of ye." He growls, before feasting with renewed fervour. 

You've never had a man eat you like this in your life, as Johnny drinks your nectar like he needs it to survive, and caresses your insides with the most reverent touch. His has you completely undone beneath him, moaning loud enough to disturb the neighbours and racing towards your peak in record time.

Your legs shake against his hold, your hips naturally rising to meet his mouth as your pleasure builds and builds, pushing you ever further toward ecstasy. 

"I'm close." You whimper when the precipice arrives, and Johnny doesn't hold back in the slightest.

"Cum fer me." He mumbles, before sucking you over the edge. Your thighs squeeze and tremble around his head as you explode under his tongue and clench around his thick fingers. 

His attention doesn't wane until he's wrung every little bit of pleasure out of your quivering body. "Mhmmm. Good girl."

He presses one last kiss to your clit, bidding her goodbye before he gently slides your shorts back up your legs and joins you at the head of the bed.

"Fuck..."

The afterglow flows through you like lava in your veins, filling you with a warmth that only grows as Johnny strokes your face. 

"Can I kiss ye?" He asks, his lips hovering just a fraction from your own. 

"I need you to. I'll just ignore the taste of myself."

"Your loss."

He closes the distance, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, one so achingly sweet you pay no mind to the taste of yourself on your tongue. 

Johnny continues to caress your face as he deepens the kiss, making you breathless once more.

You find yourself having to turn away from the kiss to bury your head into the pillow as you stifle an overwhelming yawn. 

"Tired fer real now, sweetheart?" Johnny whispers, chasing you to press kisses to the side of your head. 

You turn back to face Johnny, noses almost brushing together as you give the slightest confirmatory nod. "'m a little sleepy." 

Johnny rushes to slide off the bed, throw back the covers, and position himself on his back. He pats his chest in invitation, smiling at you ever so sweetly. "Your pillow awaits. Non-negotiable, aye?" 

It takes a little bit of shuffling on both behalves to get you settled under the covers and snuggled up to the warmth and comfort that is Johnny's chest. Your cheek is pressed to his pec as your arm settles across his torso—he loops an arm around your back and pulls the other one over his body, holding the thigh that rests over his hips.

You cuddle in closer, relishing the way your bodies fit together, and the way his chest cradles your head so perfectly. "Mhm. Comfy pillow." 

"I'm glad—"

You interrupt him immediately, your hand coming up to smooth over his chest and squeeze appreciatively. 

"Shh." You whisper condescendingly, imitating Johnny's tone from earlier when he was between your legs. "I'm making introductions."

His chest rumbles with a laugh, as he lets you get well acquainted with his pecs. "Brat." 

Your eyes quickly slip shut, your hand stilling of any further movement. Johnny's voice is a sweet whisper from above you as you drift out of consciousness. 

"Sweet dreams, bonnie."

taglist:

@cooliofango@ramadiiiisme @pterodactyal @simonrillleyyysss @hexqueensupreme @ivymarquis @oilfics @ghosts-cyphera@msdrpreist @collmemabi @ysljoon@kmi-02 @mockerycrow @nakedcrackers @cassiecasluciluce @xcup1d @cloudsovercoffee @lovewithasideoflust @abbiesxox @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @bubuslutty @under-the-dirt @spicyspicyliving @fruitysnackysmain@dangerkitten1705@darkmornings-sweetnights @evivarys @bootboob @ninman82 @mxshpitmom@lovefromjazzy @mommymilkers-01 @liidiaaag @sharksausages @sesh-goth @astraluminaaa @alittlejudgemental @commonm1stake

want to be tagged? click here! want to be untagged? dm me or comment, i won’t be offended ♥

[star2fishmeg]

tattoo blurb in honor of lukeys birthday,, perhaps u get it as a birthday gift for him and he can’t keep himself together

Best bday present ever, in my opinion. This is longer than I expected oops. Happy birthday Luke!

You're supposed to meet everyone at the bar with Luke to celebrate his birthday in ten minutes, but instead, you're hurling yourself through his apartment complex with shopping bags and sweat dripping down your back. You were so late, but the traffic wasn't your fault and you had to give Luke his present before you left.

When Luke does answer the door, it's in a panic, eyes wide and he's pushed out the way as you barrel through his place, straight into the bedroom as he's left following you like a shadow, throwing his head back and groaning in irritation.

"Y/n, where were you, we're so late." He walks into his bedroom, voice laced with concern as he watches you dump your bags and remove your shoes, "Everyone is waiting."

"I'm so sorry, the traffic was awful," you pant, pulling your hoodie over your head, "but I have to give you your present before we leave."

"Can it wait? You still need to get ready-"

"-No, I've been waiting weeks for this," you point to the end of his bed, "sit."

He does as he'd told, and you turn away from him. Luke checks his watch impatiently, debating on whether he should text Jack about the further delay. He can't be too harsh on you though, usually, you were early to everything, usually, you were the one waiting on him to sort himself out. He looks up, jaw slacking and suddenly all the bubbling irritation dissolved into heat flushing to his neck, that tingly feeling surging through his body like electricity when his eyes lay on the sight of you pulling your jeans off, flashing a view of your ass clad in his favourite lace panties. Fantasies flood through his mind, potential gifts he's dreamed about in the upcoming weeks, ones that make his jeans tight as your shirt is discarded across his room, not that it was part of the gift, but it was going to come off anyway.

A grin crawls onto your lips upon hearing the way his breathing hitches. You've been itching to show him, tired of coming up with excuses as to why you couldn't sleep over, seeing it in the mirror and knowing that it'll drive Luke up the wall, in a good way, of course.

"Babe, you can't just do that without warning, you know what it does-" he begins, hands running over your thighs and pulling you closer between his legs. You giggled at him, not the cute giggle that sounds like summer sunsets and picnics on the docks, but the giggle that raises sirens in his head that he should brace himself for your antics.

You slowly spin to face him, excitement in your stomach and hands landing on his shoulders. Luke's grip on your hips tightens, his eyes flickering over the '43' tattooed on your bikini line, healed but tender and he feels his heart hammer in his chest. A quiet 'fuck' slips past his lips, thumb tracing gently over the ink.

"Happy birthday, Lu." You coo, bringing your hand to his hair and threading your fingers through his curls just the way he likes it, the way that makes his body melt into your touch.

He swears again. He's on your body. Forever. You've claimed him as yours and everyone will see that over the summer. You've declared your love, faith, and hope to him, making his chest bloom with joy. His lips tug into a grin and a lewd warmth pools to his core. He's looking at the hottest thing you've ever done. It's so hot he can't find the words, they're jumbled in his brain and the only clear thoughts swirling is how he never wants you to wear anything ever again, he wants to see it all the time. He wants to mark it, kiss it, and show you how much he loves it. How much he loves you.

"What do you think?" you ask, teasingly as his gaze remains on the tattoo, locked in a trance and you know exactly what's on his mind. What's got him worked up, ears tinted pink and knee bouncing.

He fumbles over his words, failing to formulate a coherent sentence, but eventually pulls himself together just enough to communicate exactly how you've lured him into a filthy paradise of consuming lust that sends him into overdrive. He doesn't look up when he speaks lowly, long fingers toying under your waistband, "You think I make you cum in the next five minutes?"

"I think you can do it in less."

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

requested by @lilacletter 18+

“It’s alright, honey, yeah?” Steve’s voice was the sweetest sound, soft and reassuring. “You can do it, just wanna watch so I know how to make you feel good.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth, Steve had made you feel good plenty of times before. In fact, you’d even go as far to call him an expert in the field. But he’d somehow gotten you on your back in his bed, your dress hiked up around your hips and the tiny buttons down your front undone. You looked indecent, tits spilling out over the cups of your bra, your hand pressed between your thighs and your underwear on Steve’s floor.

The boy was fully dressed, lounging on his side across the bottom of the mattress, one hand palming the tent in the front of his sweatpants, the other curled around your ankle, playing with the frilly edge of your sock. He didn’t pull at you, but the way his thumb was rubbing circles into your ankle was helping you relax. Your knees fell apart.

“Oh,” Steve made a show of falling slack, eyes rolling to the ceiling before he leant in on his stomach, fingertips trailing down the inside of your thigh and touching all the skin you’d exposed for him. “There she is, look at you, baby. You gonna let me see? Spread yourself wider for me, yeah?”

Embarrassment flushed through you at his words, a white hot burn that made you whine and Steve knew as well as you did that you were getting off on this - even if you wouldn’t admit it. So you let your socked feet slide over his sheets a little more, thighs parting so Steve could see the way your fingers were pressed to your clit, everything shiny from the way Steve’s words affected you.

You watched Steve bite his bottom lip and groan, rolling his own hips into the mattress. “Oh, fuck, good girl. Gonna keep going? Show me how you touch yourself when I’m not here.”

You made another soft sound, a gasping, breathy thing and you scrunched your face, wondering how much Steve could see in the dim light that came from his desk lap. You tried to close your legs again, not really meaning it, not really wanting to. You just wanted to be bossed around.

Steve knew that.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, holding onto your ankle properly now. He kept one leg spread out, obscenely wide and he grinned when your two fingers slipped messily over your clit, like you couldn’t help yourself. “You need me to tell you what to do, honey? Need some help?”

His voice was like an electrical current, warming you, making your skin fizz, short circuiting your fucking brain. You felt fuzzy, dazed when you nodded, doe eyed and acting shy for him. It made Steve wanna eat you alive. But he cooed at you instead and pushed at your knee, smiling when it fell to the bed. He could see everything, he could see all of you.

Swollen, needy, slick and glistening.

“You’ve got the prettiest, little pussy, you know that, baby?” Steve murmured, his eyes trained between your thighs, smirking when you made a breathy sound, the moan getting caught in your throat. You swore, three fingers sliding through your folds and spreading them. Your hips twitched. “Yeah? She likes that, huh? Likes getting told she’s pretty, just like you, hm?”

Steve leaned in, pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee and rested his head there, gazing down at you. His cock was pressed against his sweats, yelling for attention. Not yet though, no. No, he’d slide into you after he had you crying, after he’d gotten you so worked up you were fucking yourself on your own fingers and chanting his name.

“Go on then,” he coaxed. “Show me. Show me how good you can make yourself feel.” Steve swore when you circled two fingers around your clit, fast and slipping messily. He nipped at your thigh, mean. “Ah, slow down, what’s the rush? Wanna see how wet you can get, hm?”

You whined but obeyed, neck and chest burning with the heat of Steve’s heavy gaze and he was leaning in closer now, kissing your knee again. You lifted your hips, desperate, hoping and wishing and praying he’d taken pity and out his mouth on you.

No such luck.

Instead he pouted, mock sympathy because his eyes were sparkling. “Go on, honey, show me how deep you can get those little fingers.”

[shaisuki]

Hi there, Shai!!

This idea had been eating my brain for a long time soo Here we goWhat are your thoughts about jjk men who would collar (and maybe even chain) their wife up after they tried to escape / were disobeying?

I'm so sorry for wasting your time over this

I LOVE your work!

Keep it up!!

Byeeee (^-^)/

-Anon

❝𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗗𝗢 𝗜𝗧, 𝗜 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗞 𝗡𝗢𝗧. ❞

featuring gojo satoru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, geto suguru

content warnings yandere themes, nonconsensual themes, chains and collars, minor pet play, ankle cuffs, electrocution, degradation, dark content, gaslighting, manipulation.

synopsis yandere jjk men who would use a chain/collar on their darling

GOJO is the least fond of it. finding the contraptions unpleasant to the eyes and it doesn't suit you. you were the esteemed wife of him and you would be treated as royalty like him. princess treatment and all but he could make exceptions when you're particularly disobedient.

a day is enough of you wearing that collar. he knows how humiliated you feel in that contraption and he did feel bad a little when he sees the tears in your eyes. clawing at the leather in such panicked state that you're already begging for him. saying you'll be good and you will never do it again and satoru believes you...

“you wouldn't do it again, my sweet wife?” he coos. cold slender fingers are wrapped around your neck. his nimble fingers unfastening the cold buckle pressing in your skin. blinking the tears away and sniffling, you nod. too eager and distressed that you were willing to do anything just to get the collar removed.

from how gojo sees it and how you were dead scared earlier. he knows you will be good and learned your lesson. it pains him that you can't even speak while you claw the collar in your neck pulling it that it left claw marks in your skin. droplets of blood making its way outside of your skin and he don't want that again to happen.

satoru froze for a second when you come latching at him after the collar was removed. he expected you to come scratching at him. screaming obscenities from how vile he was instead your soft body is molded against his lean one. “i'll be good.” you repeatedly whisper and your dear husband softens at what you have said. “i know you will.” he replies. hugging you back with such tenderness and no matter how bad he felt. it honestly feels rewarding to see you this clingy to him.

the collar wasn't that bad after all.

NANAMI is not the one you could drive with a reason. deeming that is was unsafe for you to go outside and so when the first idea came running in your mind. a second he was fast to chain you up. nothing to the extreme but ankle cuffs that send jolts of electricity the moment you step outside.

he doesn't like the cuffs in your ankles but he isn't that willing to let you go easily. escaping him means disobeying and who would want that for their spouse to do it. you're not the only who's suffering from it, he also does but tells himself that it would be the good for you and him.

nanami pulls the knot in his tie. effectively loosing the fabric and making him breathe in relief. he's finally home and he can't wait just to be with you. when he's about to turn in the living room. he hears it. the soft thump of a hard object repeatedly being smacked against a pillow and then his heart breaks at the sight.

you were frustratedly tugging at the cuffs wrapped around your ankles. silently screaming and in the verge of tears when it won't just break. punching the throw pillows in the couch as your way to vent the anger, of being chained, of not being free.

noticing nanami's presence you immediately wiped the tears pooling in your eyes and avoiding his gaze. hugging yourself and pretends nothing happened.

sighing, nanami kneels in front of you. gently putting your feet in his lap and unlocking the device that made your life miserable than it is. “better now?” he asks and you nod, not bothering to wipe the tear that trickled down your cheek. “it's for the better.” he murmurs and you remained silent. your feet still on his laps while he rubs the sore spots on where the cuffs where wrapped around you. it's a routine for him. take care of his darling wife. pamper them after leaving them for a long time and please them.

it's a small price to pay when you've given him your dues.

TOJI humiliates you like he needs the air. the chains dangling as he pulled it attached to where your collar is buckled. forcing you to look at him with a furious look in your eyes. cute. as you should be akin to a mutt that no amount of yapping could remove the cuteness. whetting the rage growing aside from desire.

“you're a bitch and you know what happen to bitches. they get punished, you ungrateful bitch.” toji scowled. the sharp lines of his body are defined than it was. eyes glimmering with anger. pulling the chains until your face is in his large hand. gripping your soft jaw so tight they might crush under his raw strength.

he got no qualms about treating you like a pet. you earned it. if you weren't such a bitch you wouldn't be collared and pulled like a toy you are. there's no explanations of it and it's the only known way of the sorcerer killer to discipline someone like you. hope you will be learning your lesson after he's done with you or you're back to the leash if you misbehave again.

GETO finds it highly degrading. it's not pleasing for his eyes to see his darling all chained up or somehow collared. punishments are served by isolating you to others or simply reprimanding you. knowing how affected you are by it and you seem behaved this days. he keeps you grounded and the mere thought of escaping are shut. you didn't even plan it.

he's a man of control and is confident in his skills that he won't let you out of his grasps and when you really wanted to be punished bad. expect he had the stuff, tucked away in a hidden corner that you won't even think he possessed. imagine you really messed up bad and you're wrists are chaffed from the materials rubbing in your skin.

the thoughts of escaping/disobeying is something you shouldn't even think of. you won't like the results.

[skzcre]

12:15 am

idol!minho x nonidol!reader, established relationship.

warnings: breeding kink(!!!), minho calls the reader kitten. a little bit of dacryphilia. overstimulation.

minors dni :)

his room was dark, save from the shadows the moon casted through his curtains. a cacophony of heavy breaths and skin slapping skin filled the heavy air. minho said he needed to go to bed early tonight to prepare for a very busy day preparing for the comeback.

but you had the absolute audacity to be waiting in his room wearing nothing but one of his striped long sleeves, teasing him with the sight of your thighs just barely covered by his comforter. how was he supposed to be any sort of responsible when you looked this delicious?

“shit.” he practically threw the comforter off your sweaty bodies, not caring where it landed. he was back on you immediately, pushing your plush thighs upward to let your legs rest on his shoulders before continuing his descent somehow deeper and deeper into you. you couldn’t help but to cry out for him, gripping the sheets for dear life.

minho often fucked like his life depended on it. like it would be the last time he’d get to feel your warmth or hear you keen his name. like he needed to stamp his name across every section of your body, and you fucking loved it.

there were tears blearing your vision but even in the dark you could see him so clearly. the furrow in his brow, the sheen of sweat covering his face and body. the way his abs constricted with every thrust, how his biceps flexed when he gripped your ass. like a greek god, sculpted from the finest materials known to man, and he was all yours. absolutely whipped for you whether he’d like to admit it or not. the lengths he would go just to see you smile, the effort he put into your relationship even though you naturally couldn’t see each other as often as you’d like due to his profession.

“fuck, i love you so much, min.” you whimpered out, your brain reduced to complete mush by this point. “so fuckin’ good, feels so good.”

“mm, i know, baby.” minho let your legs fall, leaning down to leave his pretty marks over your neck and jawline. his voice was deep in your ear and it made you shiver every single time. “if you keep squeezing my dick this good i might have to marry you.”

he gave you one particularly hard thrust and didn’t move, opting to stay buried deep within you. this time you screamed, back arching off the bed while your nails scraped against his arms.

“nngh…t-too deep..!”

“i wouldn’t stop fucking you, kitten. i’d fill you to the brim every hour of the day, fuck you in every single room of our home.”

you began to whine next, squirming underneath him, trying to pull away to catch a single breath. everything was just too much to handle, he felt so good inside you that it was almost painful. but minho’s strong hands easily kept you right where he wanted you.

“c’mon, pretty, you can take more. i know you can.” he cooed, pressing soft kisses all over your face. your thighs began to tremble, toes curling as your nails dug into the skin of his biceps. “c-can’t…too much—ah!”

somehow his fingers found their way down to your clit, an electric surge crackling through your entire body. it began to move on its own, hips jutting upwards for more. “fuck, fuck, fuck!”

minho drew circles around your clit, watching with adoration as you fell apart around him. “mm, that’s it. that’s my girl,”

“gonna fuck my babies into this pretty cunt.”

[astroboots]

Superhuman stamina

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: The dangers of dating a man with superhuman stamina is that it's going to leave you sore.

Content: Miguel is a demanding menace. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasm. Squirting.

Word Count: 1.4k

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

The thing about dating a man that has been genetically imprinted with the DNA of a spider is that one of the side-effects of such an occurrence means he has superhuman stamina.

It's something Miguel had told you in the early days of your relationship, listing out this characteristic as just another facet of his personality, much in the way someone would say that they're a Virgo on their Tinder profile.

You hadn't thought much of it at the time, too distracted by the list of characteristics that preceded it: retractable talons? telescopic night vision? ORGANIC WEBBING?!

In retrospect, that was naïve. The talons don't really affect your day to day. They do come out when Miguel's emotional state is particularly elevated, which has lead to incidents. Like that time you had to replace your new purchased armchair, when you were on top and post-sex your new armchair looked like it had been mauled by an escaped zoo lion.

The telescopic night vision? Incredibly convenient at night when there's a blackout and you need to find your cell phone.

And the webbing... the less said about that the better, really.

But now that you've dated as long as you have, the superhuman stamina, you realize is by far the one that has the most profound consequences on your life.

At the time you hadn't realized that those enhanced attributes weren't limited to aerial battles against the latest villain of the week when he was fighting mutant lizards, or rhino men. It also haunts you in the privacy of your bedroom.

Because this is what happens when you date a man with superhuman stamina: You'll often oversleep and barely make it on time to work. On most days you've lost your voice. You'll be sore a lot.

And the thing about dating Miguel specifically is that the man is stubborn, relentless, demanding and that too extends into your bedroom.

"Fuck, Miguel, I can't."

"'Course you can, nena, look at how well you're taking me," he says as he stares down at the space between your legs where you and him join. Where you're spread snugly around him. Where his thick cock, slick with you both, disappears into your cunt then re-emerges.

It's wet. It's messy, the sheets beneath you soaked and sticky, from the last three (four?) rounds. As snug of a fit his thick cock is inside you, he's filled you so full there's no space left for you to fit what he's spilled inside you, over and over again. It keep leaking out with each press and demanding thrust as he buries his cock inside you as deep as he goes.

You shake your head even though you know it's useless. Pleading with him has never gotten you anywhere before. You don't know why you think it's going to make a difference now.

"Please, I-I can't-- nngh, too much," you plead. You whine. You sob.

"Shh, nena, it's okay," he hushes. Again with the cooing. Again with the sweet little nicknames, but he's not showing mercy, his hand moving down from your hip, down between your legs, until his thumb presses down on your clit.

Electricity crackles through the length of your spine. Your back arches, lifting off the bed, you don't know if you are chasing into his touch or running away from it: the first? latter? both? neither.

You can't form a coherent thought anymore. It's good and too much, and your brain is short-circuiting from it all.

"There you go, see? Doing so good. Look how pretty you are taking me."

Even in the dim light of your bedroom, you can see his expression clearly. Eyes a piercing crimson red, the corners of his canine teeth peeking out from his self-satisfied smile.

He bends down, nearly folding you in half as he presses his cock as deep as it goes, until he's nudging at that sweet and perfect spot that has your vision go white and blinding behind your eyes.

Sweet, sharp ache scrapes close to your bones at the sensation of him filling you again. The way he stretches you to your limits, until you've forgotten how to breathe, and may very well be the death of you.

It's there again. The oppressive warmth that swirls sweetly in your stomach as a warning. Tears prickle your eyes as everything in you squeezes tight at the sensation.

Oh shit, it's--

"Fuck that's it nena. That's it. Come on my cock again. Come on it and I'll fill you up."

It rises in you. A pressure that builds and builds and builds, and robs you of your breath until you have nothing left to give. It's overwhelming, the way the pleasure burns at every one of your nerve endings, until your face tingles with a numbness and you can no longer feel your legs.

"Mi-Miguel," you stutter, "I can't--"

"Yes you can."

The pressure is still there, expanding with an ominous volume, and no, he's wrong. You can't. Something is different. This isn't like before. You squirm underneath him, feet planted against the mattress for leverage.

"Settle down," he says, but you don't know how you're supposed to do that when your entire body has been wounded so tight you think the whole of you are going to snap.

You shake your head frantically, sobbing with a raw burn in your throat as you thrash underneath him, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation. Oh fuck-- it's too much.

Oh god, you can't-you can't-you can't--

You raise your palms against his firm chest, pressing back, in a half-formed attempt to make him ease up, but it only spurs him on. One arm loops behind your back, lifting you from the mattress to meet his hips as he snaps them into you. And oh fuck!

It hits something devastating inside. A pin prick of pleasure that strikes every nerve in your body. It hits a frequency that makes your teeth shatter, every cell in your skull vibrate. Your leg kicks out, body twisting and turning to get away from the overwhelming sensation.

"Callate," you hear his warm strained breath in your ear.

His free hand locks around your wrists, pinning them to the side, then he's lunging forward, his mouth pressed to your shoulders and you can feel the sharp warning of his fangs resting on your skin. "Calm down, or I'm gonna bite you."

You still, shivering as his hips pulls back, then he hits that devastating spot again and again.

Every muscle in you locks up tight until you can't move and for a moment you wonder if he really did bite down. But you can still feel his mouth on your throat, his tongue lapping gently at your sweat-soaked skin until the whole of your neck tingles.

He doesn't go easy on you, thrusting into you with the same demanding pace as before, and God. The sensation is heavy and ominous like nothing else you've felt before. Large and looming with nowhere else to go, and there's nothing you can do to prevent it, and you know that if this doesn't stop, if Miguel doesn't stop, then all of you are going to burst.

You open your mouth, trying to warn him, but all that comes out is the first syllable.

"Miii--" The rest dies in a wail, and you realize it's already too late. The pressure shatters and breaks.

You come with a rush of wetness that spills out of you. It soaks everything, your thighs and his, drenching his stomach and drips down against the sheets to join the mess that's already there.

Everything sounds distant like you're pulled under water. You can barely even register Miguel's voice in your ear. "Oh shit, are you-- fuck, that's --"

He sounds surprised. But he doesn't stop. Miguel fucks you through it. Your climax and his, with frantic thrusts, until finally he settles into a slow and gentler pace.

When you come back to yourself, he's kneeling above you, his large bodyframe looming over yours.

"Fuck, babe..."

He palms at his softening cock, glistening wet with your mess as he stares down at you with darkened eyes. Slowly jerking the length of it with a lazy pace that has you mesmerized. It twitches in his grip with interest, and you know it's not going to take long before he's ready to go again.

"One more time," Miguel says. "Let's see if we can make you do it again."

Jesus fucking Christ

Your head drops down to your pillow with exhaustion.

The thing about dating a man with superhuman stamina is that it may very well kill you.

Dedication & Credits: To my beloved @thirstworldproblemss who I hope is driving safely across the country through the mountains I love youuuuuuuuuuuuuu.

And to poor @guruan who I woke up with my other fic and robbed her of her beauty sleep.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Overstimulation with Loki

A/N: Errr. I may switch up the way I’m doing Kinktober bc I’m having ✨motivation issues✨ But fourth fic of Kinktober, yay! Let me know if I missed any warnings

Written with a male!Reader in mind

Link to masterlist here

CW: overstimulation, condescension, degradation, Reader is likened to an animal in heat, Loki restrains the Reader’s hands, Reader is called pet and darling and slut, multiple orgasms, licking up cum, ass play, rimming, Reader is mentioned to be a bit of a masochist, mentioned multiple rounds, aftercare, does this count as dubcon?

437 words

All you can do is whimper.

Your brain is fuzzy. Your thoughts slow and sluggish. All you can do is mindlessly move, squirming to get away and arching up for more.

It hurts. So deliciously.

You want to moan, scream, wail, sob for mercy. But all you can do is whimper.

“Look at you,” Loki’s voice is a low purr. A sadistic croon. “Fucking my hand so mindlessly. Like a base animal needing to mate.”

You whine, tugging weakly at the hand gripping your wrists. They’re pinned above your head, keeping you in place.

“Oh, no, my beloved pet,” he chuckles, swiping his thumb over your tip in a way that has your eyes rolling back. “You don’t get to escape so easily.”

You cum for what feels like the thousandth time. Weak spurts of cum spilling over Loki’s knuckles and fist. He lets go for just a moment to lick his hand clean and you gasp with relief.

Your body thrums with aftershocks, painful little jolts of pleasure that feel like electricity.

His hand smooths over your stomach and you whimper again, squirming away from his touch. “No, it’s too much!”

His voice is a low coo, even as he moves to turn you over. “Then I won’t touch your pretty dick anymore. There are other ways to make you cum, darling. I know you have a few more in you. I want them all.”

You shudder as his fingers slide over your asshole, gently pressing. It feels so good, and yet it makes your stomach clench and your dick throb.

“Please…!” You whimper out.

But Loki just chuckles. “Oh, darling. I know you have it in you. You’re just a dirty little slut under that big man facade. You turn drunk at the slightest press of my cock.”

You moan, pressing your face into the sheets. He’s not wrong, and it only makes it worse. The heavy throbbing of your dick gets twice as bad when he dips down to lick at your asshole. Lapping his tongue against you and purring at the taste.

“You’re delicious, darling. I’m going to enjoy this thoroughly.”

All you can do is whimper. Whimper and squirm against his hold. It’s no use. He’ll get what he wants in the end, and you’re not resolved enough to not want it. It feels so painfully good. And you’ve always been a bit of a masochist.

You give him two more rounds before you pass out. When you wake, you’re all cleaned up, wrapped in his arms. And with the pleasurable way your body aches, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

[slvtforsimon]

Step-Dad || John Price

Synopsis - Your step-dad comes home from his deployment.

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Based on this.

Word Count - 1.2k.

{Caffeinate Me/Commissions}

It was late, too late for people to be awake. John unlocked the back door silently, creeping into the pitch black kitchen, to the living room and finally up the stairs. His feet were moving quickly towards your bedroom before his brain could even compute what he was doing. Without knocking, John stepped into your room and walked swiftly over to your sleeping figure. Feeling eyes on you, your eyes snapped open and you shot up. However before you could scream, John placed a large hand flat over your mouth and whispered, “shh princess. It’s just me.” You gulped and nodded, eyes wide as your beating heart slowed down its pace at the revelation of the intruder. “‘M missed you.” He flopped down onto your single bed and nuzzled into you, kissing the soft exposed flesh of your neck. 

“Missed you too,” you said. 

“Shh princess, your mother doesn’t know I’m home yet,” John whispered into your neck, hand finding its way down your pyjama bottoms and past the waistband of your underwear. You nodded, letting out a soft whimper of surprise as a thick finger prodded at your tight hole, slowly inching inside of you. You had to bite the pillow underneath you to suppress the loud moan threatening to escape your lips. “Shit baby, so fucking tight.” John’s voice came out in a silent hiss. “You touched yourself much while I was gone, baby? Hmm?” He mumbled quietly, teeth dragging along your neck. Unable to speak, you just shook your head causing your stepdad to chuckle. After a few more thrusts, he inserted a second finger inside of you, soft squelching noises filled the room as your pussy got wetter. You whined further into the pillow as you bucked your hips up, your body still slightly groggy from being woken up so quickly. 

John’s index and forefinger continued to move inside of you languidly as his thumb began to make soft circular motions on your clit, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. “John,” you mewled, back arching as you felt your orgasm rapidly approach.

“What is it baby?” He cooed quietly. God he had missed the feeling of your pussy greedily sucking in his fingers and the way you pulsated around him as you came. John knew you were close, smug bastard didn’t want you cumming just yet. Within the blink of an eye he had your pyjama pants and underwear around your ankles before pushing his face into your slit, tongue darting out past his lips to suck on your folds.

“John!” You whimpered softly. Your hands found their way into his hair and tugged softly, forcing the Captain to let out a groan into your cunt. 

John continued to lap at you like a man starved: being on deployment and away from you for so long had been killing him. While he was away, he’d fuck his fist in his barracks to thoughts of you spread out below him, moaning his name so deliciously. Nothing could make him cum after he had had a taste of you, nothing could make his balls ache and twitch like you could. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he moaned, sending vibrations up your body. Your legs wrapped around John’s head, forcing his mouth further against your folds as he began to nibble at your clit. Within seconds you were cumming over his face, soaking his beard and moustache with your spend. With trembling legs that were going slack over his shoulders, you whimpered John’s name over and over again as your eyes rolled back into your head. “That’s my good girl,” John purred, licking a long stripe up your slit before pulling away and quickly removing his cock from its restraints. His cock was tanned, a similar colour to skin tone, but his tip was furiously flushing red, leaking pre-cum that had your mouth watering at the sight. “Just lay back baby. I’ll take good care of you.” 

“I trust you,” you whisper breathlessly, coming down from your orgasm. 

John settled himself between your legs, slicking his tip up your folds before slamming into you. It burned as he stretched you, felt like your first time all over again but you got used to his girth quickly as he began to thrust against you. He wanted to be slow, wanted to be sensual to show you just how much he had missed you while he was away, but the second he entered your velvety walls he was physically unable to hold himself back. John’s hips slammed against yours ruthlessly, sounds of skin-slapping-skin filling the room as his assault on your cunt continued. “Oh baby you feel so good,” he growled silently, praising you. Your head was clouded with pleasure, you felt too good to be able to actually register anything your stepdad was saying to you. He bullied your tight hole mercilessly, heavy balls slapping against your arse with each thrust he made. 

John felt himself reaching his orgasm, but before he allowed himself to spill inside of you, he pulled out with a pop and forced you onto your stomach, pressing his hand to the back of your head and forcing your face into your plush pillow. You let out a whimper, cunt becoming sensitive by the second as you felt a second orgasm approaching. Your pussy fluttered, ripping a moan from John’s throat. His hand was still placed firmly on the back of your head, stifling your moans against the pillow as he pounded into you, chasing his own high. It was then did his hips stutter as you milked him, rope after rope of creamy cum spilling deep into your womb. “Holy fuckk,” he growled, hand bunching up into a fist in your hair as he stilled his hips against yours. After a few seconds, John let go of your hair and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your head before settling down next to you. He couldn’t seem to process his feelings for you as you turned around and stared at the ceiling, breathing intensely. He knew this was wrong but couldn't help it. “I really missed you darlin’,” he whispered, bending over your bed to reach for a cigar located in his cargo pockets. 

“I missed you too,” you whispered, gazing up at him through your lashes. You frowned as he lit up the cigar, scrunching your nose up. Great, now your room was going to smell like smoke for weeks, oh well, at least it would remind you of John when he was on deployment. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to your body as he inhaled your scent. It didn’t take you long to drift into a deep sleep and when you woke up in the morning, your bed was obviously empty. 

You made your way downstairs to see your mother and John sitting at the dining room table sipping on their morning coffee. “Sleep well darlin’?” John asked you, not looking up from his coffee. He had a knowing smirk on his lips. 

“Very,” you replied, smiling back lightly as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. It was then that John looked at you, his heart fluttering at your smile. He wished he had met you before he had met your mother, maybe then you’d be the one with his last name.