#but still at least i get to see his face and squeeze his cheeks through my screen
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Your Hound and Trailbreaker fics are making me smile so much! It’s always a delight to see them! I wonder if any of the humans on the Ark have tried to make a break for it? Only to get into trouble out in the wilderness and have to be rescued for real 😂
Hound and Teeb’s humans are making an escape attempt
Too Tired To Wink Pt 3
Trailbreaker x Reader
• Is he sleeping? Do giant, alien robot monsters sleep? His visor had gone dim about an hour or so ago, cheek on his outstretched arm and mouth hanging open. Looks asleep. Back pressed to the wall, you creep along it. Most of his bulk is sprawled out on the floor where he’d trapped you under his berth and trying to coax you out. Moving slowly past his servos, you’re afraid to even breathe in case you wake him up. No real plan aside from reaching the vent set into the wall that’s low enough to be accessible. The slots in it big enough to squeeze through. Hopefully.
• Vents clearing noisily at a soft rustling, his head lifts and for a moment he can’t figure out why he’s lying on the floor of his habsuite. Then he does remember when he hears you break into a run. Because you’re not under the berth anymore, you’re sprinting like your life depends on it and he lunges after you. “Wait!” You don’t even look back, throwing yourself at the grate covering a vent and wiggling through the slots as his spark constricts. Trying to hook his servos against the edges and pry the thing loose as he hears you running deeper inside. “That’s dangerous!” And he yanks the grate loose and lays flat to see inside, but you’re out of sight already.
• Running headlong, you round a bend and shriek when the floor just slopes sharply and you fall to go sliding. Coming to a stop when you hit something that falls on you and yelps at the bottom. Frantically clawing to get away, because you can’t see anything and someone kicks you in the gut. And when you hear the terrified swearing, you start laughing. “Great minds think alike,” you manage as you struggle to fend off your idiot coworker before they try to punch you in the face in their panic.
• Venting tiredly, he mass shifts and still has to bend low to fit through the gap. Wishes he knew the layout of the ventilation system or had time to pull it up, but you’re likely to get yourself hurt while he’s researching. And he’s always been more of an action over planning type. Wonders how well humans can see in the dark as he hears an echoing shriek. Not very well, he bets. Plating scraping the top of the vent, he makes his way forward in an awkward shuffle.
• Finding out your work bestie has been in the vents wandering aimlessly for hours according to their estimate isn’t exactly reassuring. It’s pitch inside, though occasionally there’s a tiny amount of light from a grate and they linger long enough to try and check if anyone is around. Because if they can get out of the vents and into whatever alien central is, they can try to find an open door and run outside. Hopefully. You know that’s a long shot as you trail after your buddy and stop short at a faint cry. Your friend turning to urgently wave you over, a finger pressed to their lips as you join them in peering through the slots. Realizing this vent is much higher up than yours had been and there’s a smaller blue and red alien. And a human. And they’re-oh. Clapping a hand over your mouth as the bot groans, hips pumping and his human begins urging him on. And you can’t breathe as you fight the urge to just start cackling and give yourself away. Because what the hell? At least with yours he’s too big to have nabbed you for that. Though that person seems to be having a hell of a time from the sound of it.
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HIYAAA could you maybe do something about teacher izuku with pro hero girlfriend/wife?? I was thinking of a scenario where his partner is always staying up, working on some hero stuff and he tries to lure her into bed to rest. Maybe include a making out session :3
Hiiii!!! I was literally gone all day doing things, so lemme cook you up someone good pookie. 💚
Slight smut warning. 18+
You sat in your office, a hand running through your messy hair and your eyes stinging with lack of sleep. A heavy sigh slipped passed your lips as you dragged your hand down your face, glancing at the clock.
1:47 am.
Wonderful.
You still had quite a bit of paperwork to go through, and some emails to draft, and you’d been sitting at the goddamn desk since 10 pm.
“That’s what I get for being a procrastinator.”
You mumbled to yourself, sighing heavily and grabbing your pen again, continuing your painful paperwork.
You had been deep in your work, until you felt eyes on you. Your eyes flicked to your right, where you saw your lover, Izuku Midoriya, standing there.
“Sweetheart..what are you doing awake? You have to be awake for school in a few hours..”
You mumbled, your brows furrowing with concern as you spun in your chair, facing the tired man you called your boyfriend.
Izuku wasn’t wearing his glasses. His hair tousled and his tee (that was yours that he stole.) was loosely hanging off of one shoulder. He didn’t bother wearing pants to bed, the shirt was long enough to reach his upper thigh anyway, the black boxers wrapping around his muscular thighs.
“Come to bed..”
He mumbled, rubbing his eye with a slight pout on his face. It was obvious he was displeased with your current position in your office chair, and not in bed, holding him.
“Baby, I’ve got work I gotta do”
You said as a smile pulled at your lips, seeing your boyfriend sleepy and more than ready to have you in his arms warmed your heart.
Izuku whined in protest, walking over to you and grabbing your hand, bringing it to his lips.
“Please..? You’ve been working all evening..I haven’t been able to see you because of your paperwork..and it’s already 2 in the morning..”
Your boyfriend mumbled, pressing a few feather light, and sickeningly sweet kisses to your knuckles.
You sighed and leaned back in your chair, cupping his cheek with the hand he’d been kissing.
“Zuku, I need to finish my work. Why don’t you go lay down okay? I’ll be back in bed when I finish up these papers.”
Your tired eyes dragged to the desk as you gestured to the stack of papers, sitting on the desk and taunting you with the task of finishing them.
Izuku frowned, then, an idea popped into his head, and he grinned mischeviously. You looked up just to see your boyfriend shifting to sit in your lap.
You blushed and gently placed your hands on the sides of his thighs, feeling his boxers under your touch.
“Izuku..”
You said softly, slowly shifting your hands back around to the plump curve of his ass. Izuku blushed softly and cupped your cheeks, his calloused thumbs running over your skin with a careful touch.
You smiled a little and gave his rear a playful squeeze, Izuku rolling his eyes as you did so. He leaned in closer to your face, tilting his head to the side
“Why do you love squeezing my ass?..you weirdo..”
You laughed softly and shrugged, a grin gracing your features as you gently groped his plush curve.
“It’s not my fault you’re so curvy baby”
You whispered softly, to which Izuku blushed, glancing away as you leaned closer to his face.
“Shut up..don’t say that kinda thing..”
He muttered shyly, his eyes moving to yours. You smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.
“Well, at least let me show you how pretty you look, baby”
And with that, you pressed your lips to his. Izuku’s lipd were slightly chapped from him chewing on them, but they still had a certain softness that left you wanting more and more each time you kissed.
Izuku groaned softly, his hands moving to your shoulders, his fingers slightly digging into the fabric of your shirt as he kissed you with equal passion.
You softly bit his bottom lip, a whine leaving him and making you break the kiss only to chuckle, then your lips found his once again.
His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, sliding his fingers under it to feel the smith skin of your abdomen under his fingers.
Meanwhile, your hands moved to his thighs, gripping the curves and planes of his smooth skin, only covered by his boxers, which held a tent from his manhood.
You smirked while you broke the kiss, looking up at him as you ran a finger over the bulge in his boxers.
Izuku whined and bresthlessly moaned as you rubbed his tip through his boxers, giving you a half lidded, needy gaze.
“Sweetheart..don’t tease me please…”
He whispered, a flush on his soft, freckled cheeks.
You laughed softly and smiled up at him, a mischievous grin settling on your lips.
God you loved his whiny tone and flustered expression.
“Cmon, let’s take this to our bedroom, yeah?”
You asked, not wanting to tease him too badly, but also enjoying your affect on his body- seeing the way he physically responded to your touch definitely excited you.
Izuku vigorously nodded at your words, gripping your shirt tightly as a deeper red coated his cheeks. He knew what the hazy look in your eyes meant for him, and he felt a pit of heat grow in his stomach.
“Yes- yes let’s go”
Izuku gasped as you picked him up, loving being manhandled, even if you weren’t necessarily rough with him.
He knew he was in for a long night.
Ty for the ask, ilyyyyy!!!
#boku no hero academia#my hero academy fanfiction#izuku midoria x reader#izuku mydoria#my hero acadamy#my hero academia#izuku midoriya#izuku x reader#mha izuku#bnha izuku#izuku midoriya x reader#izuku Midoriya x reader smut#izuku x reader smut#izuku mha#deku x reader#Deku x reader smut#deku x y/n#bnha deku#mha deku#deku midoriya#deku#mha smut#mha x reader#mha fanfiction#mha#bnha x reader#bnha#bnha smut
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Talk me through it
✷ CW : 18+, smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, car sex, a bit of fluff if you squint, first date
꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶
Your heart was beating out of your chest. Rattling inside your ribcage, threatening to burst out; pleading to be surrendered to his hands.
“I had fun.” You smiled, mentally patting yourself on the back for even daring to say yes to this in the first place. Both of you have been tiptoeing around each other for months. Always in fear of ruining this. A bond that has been tested many times before and it always comes out tighter than ever, yet it never turns into anything beyond a friendship.
He lets his hand off the steering wheel, his car parked neatly on your driveway. He turns his head, eyes too shy to meet yours but eventually; he relented. It’s so funny how easy it always used to be to look at each other.
“Me too.” He reached over to squeeze your hand.
“Can i-“
“Can i-“
You both laughed at the same time, hand pulled away to cover the blush that appeared on your cheeks.
“Oh my god hah! i’m so sorry Josh, you go first. What were you gonna ask me?”, You tilt your head to the side; knowing the fact that it makes him flustered whenever you do that.
“No no no, it’s okay. I- I just wanted to know if- um- can i walk you to your door?”
“What! Of course you can, why are you so nervous about walking me to my door?”
He looked down while shaking his head, smiling. “You don’t know the effect you have on me.”
“Mmhm okay.”, you playfully roll your eyes.
“What were you gonna ask?”, his tone curious and…expectant?
A tingle went down your spine, there’s no more fear or doubt anymore; just excitement. You lean forward, not too close but close enough to tease him with the idea of something thrilling.
“Can i kiss you?”
You surprise yourself with how steady you sounded, expertly masking how all over the place you feel inside.
His eyes widen, mouth agape.
“Yeah..Yeah of course you can.”
The music playing in the background faded as you met in the middle, it all came down to this. The two of you were finally properly communicating with each other, teeth clashing and tongues meeting. A moan escaped you, further egging him on. You felt his hand tangling itself into your hair, your own moving to cup his jaw affectionately.
Then he reluctantly pulled away despite your protests. A string of saliva stretched and broke.
“Oh josh-“, you moaned. He was kissing and sucking on your neck. Leaving marks of ownership that you will look at tomorrow with pride. It felt so good, you rub your legs together to ease the tension. You feel so wet, desperate to have him inside you.
He trailed up to whisper into your ear, “Does it feel good? Do you like it?”, sneaking a little nibble.
You were lightheaded, you didn’t even remember if you answered properly or not. One thing led to another, then you were sitting on the backseat; panties off. Somehow it felt much dirtier to get fingered by your high school best friend/crush while being fully clothed. You even still had your sneakers on.
Josh had his arm around your neck, pillowing you; occasionally stroking the side of your face with his thumb. You found it hot to see him with his sleeves rolled half way, so he could finger you properly.
“You’re so beautiful. I could never get tired of you”, he said while he had three fingers inside your cunt. His thumb expertly stroked your clit, just as affectionate as the thumb on your cheek.
The moans you let out were embarrassing to say the least, but they don’t compare to how embarrassing your cunt sounded. Wet and sticky, drowning out the radio.
“I can’t believe how wet i’m making you feel. You’re making a mess in my car.”
“Ohh baby, i can’t ah shit- help it. Fuck right there fuckkk.” you whimper.
You feel dizzy and overwhelmed, his blue eyes pierced through you. He sometimes leans close to tease you. Promising a sweet kiss, only to keep you at a distance. You shamelessly stuck out your tongue, too horny to feel any ounce of shame.
“Fuck look at you. You’re so fucking sexy.”, he whispered breathlessly. His eyes trailed down your body, stopping at your warm middle.
He fully pulled his fingers out slowly, you let out a soft whimper.
“Patience baby. I just wanted you to look at how much you’re soaking my fingers.”, he showed you his fingers, soaked and webbed with cum. This was turning you on so much.
“My.good.fucking.girl.” he punctuated the words with deep and rough thrusts back inside your cunt.
“Ah baby! Fuck, i wanna cum so bad Josh. Your fingers feel so fucking good.”, you look at him with low lids and furrowed brows. “Please..make me cum.”
“Fuck. I wanna feel you around my dick so bad, you’re sucking me in so much.”
“Please!”, the image of you riding him flashed through your head, further pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm.
“Next time i’m gonna eat you out till your fucking legs shake. Then I’m gonna fuck you and cum inside this sweet pussy.”, his breath hot in your ear.
“You want that?”
You answered with a high pitched yes. Your hand wrapped around his wrist to ground you.
“Then cum for me.”, tone demanding, his fingers jack hammering inside you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, tears rolled down your face. You weren’t even sure how loud you screamed. His fingers stilled inside you, feeling your cunt tighten and spasm. Your body instantly felt spent. Little did you know, Josh had his eyes fixed on you the whole time, never wanting to miss anything.
Your eyes slowly opened, “Josh…” you cried. You never want him to stop looking at you this way.
“Yeah?”, he responded with a sweet and loving smile.
You took a few deep breaths to regain control of your body again. The heat running through your body felt different now. Instead of consuming you whole; in a heartbeat, it spread slowly. Warming up your chest.
You were close to crying, the emotions rising up to your throat.
“I love you so much”, you whispered.
“I love you too, you’re everything to me.”, he finished with a kiss to your forehead.
꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶
Thank you so much to @slapthosewilliessilly for requesting ‘Josh talking you through it’. I had to expand it a little more to stretch out my writing muscles. Hope you like it! 🥹
Also ahh i’m so nervous about sharing my first kind of long-form fic…😖
#josh washington#until dawn#josh washington x reader#until dawn fanfics#josh washington x original character#until dawn smut#josh washington smut
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Passenger Princess| Yang Jeogin
.ᐟPAIRING: Yang Jeongin x f!reader
.ᐟSYNOPSIS: As they drive through the city in a car, the protagonist gives in to the attraction she feels for him. (Second part of dirty little secret)
.ᐟWARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and weed; suggestive content
.ᐟWORDCOUNTER: 1,1k (1146)
The wind hit my face, messing up my hair and sending it into shapeless waves, blowing from side to side.
The city lights flashed by like camera flashes, bright and flickering thanks to the high speed of the car.
Sin city was a witness to what he and I had—what was supposed to stay as a little secret, the city knew it all. The city of sin knew I’d die for you, baby. Do you know that?
The upper half of my body was hanging out of the car’s open window, my arms stretched wide, feeling the cool air brush against my warm skin as laughter escaped my mouth.
“Sit, pretty. It’s dangerous” he said from inside the car, touching my leg to get my attention to what he was saying.
I climbed back into the car, smoothing my hair with my hands and manicured nails, still letting out small giggles.
I looked over at my beloved driver with a smile. He returned it, his dimples carving into his smooth cheeks.
“I can sit pretty” I replied, running one hand through his soft, now-copper hair, stroking it gently from the top down to his nape.
Each stroke seemed to tickle him. Every time my hand brushed against the back of his neck or near his ear, a shiver ran through his body.
He had bleached his hair a few weeks ago in a moment of impulsiveness, spurred by a weed high. He had called me around 1 a.m., asking for my help—a favor that was rewarded hours later in his bed. A night I’d like to experience again.
Sitting on his famous leather seats, which stuck to my bare legs thanks to the dress I was wearing, I could see the bright lights reflecting in his eyes, filled with unspoken emotions.
After that night at the bar, when I should’ve drawn a line, walked away, or ended it all, here I was again—falling for his charms.
Once again, driving through the city in his car late at night, hoping no one would bother us. Escaping a reality we couldn’t change—a reality where what we had had to stay a secret.
His hand, cold from the rings he wore, sliding up and down my thigh, pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned my gaze back to him. In that moment, I wasn’t sure if the lights around us blurred because of the speed we were going or because of the alcohol in my system.
“You’re my favorite fantasy, you know that?” His unexpected words made my heart race, pumping more blood than usual, sending some to my cheeks and tinting them pink.
Could you hear my heartbeat? If he asked, I could lie and say it was because he was speeding. I didn’t want to admit he turned my world upside down—but he probably already knew that.
Saying it out loud would only complicate things further, and I hoped I could keep my mouth shut for at least a little while longer. For once in my life, I prayed the alcohol wouldn’t betray me.
Where were we headed? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care because anywhere he take me, I would go.
“Don’t you know I’d die for you?” The words slipped from my lips, my senses too numb to hold them back.
Resting my head against the leather seat, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed far more in control than I was at that moment, but my words clearly affected him.
The hand on my thigh now squeezed a little tighter. His eyes stayed focused on the road, but his jaw was tense, as if he were holding back the words he really wanted to say.
He turned his head slightly toward me, his dark eyes reflecting a mix of uncertainty and resolve. “Why are you telling me this now?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.
Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, sending my body lurching forward and then back into the seat. Quickly glancing at the street to see the reason behind his sudden braking. I noticed the red light.
Without even thinking—with what little brainpower I still had—I slid from my seat onto his, straddling him with my legs on either side of his muscular ones.
His eyes, wide with surprise, were locked on my legs, as if trying to make sense of the sudden situation. Meanwhile, my hands went to his neck, leaving gentle caresses.
“Say you’re all mine, Innie. Touch me under streetlights” I whispered, my voice nothing more than a hushed murmur filled with longing.
His breath hitched, and his hands, which had been tensely gripping the wheel, slowly moved toward my thighs. The glow of the streetlights illuminated his eyes, where a storm of emotions swirled.
“You know what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice hoarse and thick with restrained desire. You couldn’t help but smile slightly, enjoying the vulnerability in his tone.
Carefully, his fingers glided up my thighs, stopping just short of where the electricity between us became unbearable.
“Say it again” he said, his eyes fixed on your lips as if he needed to hear the words to believe the moment was real.
“Only because I know you want it too” I replied, our lips nearly brushing, heightening the tension between us. “Touch me under the streetlights.”
The distance between us disappeared in a breath as his lips finally found mine—a perfect mix of softness and urgency that seemed to stop time.
His hands, once hesitant, now moved with certainty, tracing a path up your thighs until they held you securely. The world outside blurred, the only sound the synchronized beating of your hearts.
Can you feel my heartbeat?
The traffic light changed, bathing the car’s interior in a green glow, but neither of you moved. After all, at this hour, no one else was driving.
And I could die here and now, in his arms, in a car filled with groans and gasps escaping both our lips.
His hands roaming over my bare legs, occasionally stopping on my ass to squeeze it possessively. My hands tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, causing groans to escape from his plump lips, now swollen from our sudden kissing session.
I began moving my hips slowly over his hard member, earning deep, melodic moans from him. His hands now guided my hips, making the movements even more pleasurable for both of us.
My feelings and desires, now more exposed than ever and clearly reciprocated, hoped they’d no longer have to be hidden from the world.
I had fallen completely for Jeongin’s charms from the very first moment, and no one could ever deny it.
From this night forward, I could say I’d officially become his passenger princess.
.ᐟA/n: le dedico esta segunda parte a Jaz castor que desde que salió el primer fic de Jeongin (que en ningún momento estaba planeado que continuara) me pidió una segunda parte y acá está, disfrútalo corazón!
#stray kids#skz#skz fanfic#skz x reader#skz yang jeongin#yang jeongin x reader#yang jeongin smut#yang jeongin#skz jeongin#stray kids jeongin#stray kids i.n#stray kids yang jeongin#i.n x reader#i.n stray kids#i.n smut#skz i.n#jeongin x reader#jeongin stray kids#Spotify
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the woman who co-hosted the dr3 wines event with daniel mentions in her instagram story that they "didn't chat much about f1" but "his prospects are looking good. he has many projects on the go...and we'll be seeing him resurface pretty quickly."
#daniel ricciardo#👀👀👀👀👀👀👀#do i think in terms of projects she means commercial projects and not racing projects.........yes.#but still at least i get to see his face and squeeze his cheeks through my screen#dr
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— ୨ৎ sleepover with secret bf!rafe
authors note: i got a request for this a few weeks ago but the ask deleted itself so I'm so sorry to whoever sent that! and i'm trying to get out of my writers block so enjoy...whatever this is. (not sure how I feel about this) not proofread!! content warnings: contains smut, 18+
“come over? just for a little bit?” rafe asked as he looked at you through the facetime camera. it's been a rough day for him and you were really the only person he wanted to see right now. but it was past midnight and you weren't supposed to be out of the house around this time, let alone going to his house.
you've been told by your parents to stay away from him—countless times, actually. rafe knew he had some...things to work on, but in his mind, he wasn't that bad. at least towards you. “dunno rafe...'m already in trouble for skipping school yesterday.” you frown, tapping your manicured finger on the side of your phone. rafe sighed, sitting up against his headboard “please? it'll be quick. i'll sneak ya in and out.”
you were hesitating and that's something rafe could see clearly, but he was desperate. you were one of the only people he actually cared about these days and he didn't want to be alone right now, especially not at night.
“please..? you're the only person i want to see right now.” he pleaded, almost begging in a way. he was never one to beg, but it was the only thing he could think of that could convince you to come.
you thought it over as you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew how it would end if your parents found out you snuck out of your house. “isn't sarah home though?” rafe was silent for a moment, his hand running through his hair “no...she's out. won't be home 'til morning” he murmured. that was one less obstacle so it was one good thing. but you still weren't sure. rafe was your boyfriend and you cared about him, but sneaking out wasn't the best idea right now. “but my parents said-”
“i know sweetheart and i'm not tryna get you in trouble, but i swear it'll be like thirty minutes.” he cut you off, his tone almost desperate. you bit your lip as you leaned back against your headboard. “rafe...” you trailed off with a sigh. you weren't saying no right away, but you weren't saying yes either. it was clear you were conflicted as you hesitated before adding, “okay, fine. but just for thirty minutes. not a second longer.”
rafe's face lit up as he heard you agree. he knew he could be convincing if he wanted to and he was so glad it worked this time. “thank you baby, be outside waiting. i'll come get you.” with that, he ended the facetime, standing from his bed as he grabbed a jacket and his keys. it didn't take long for you to change into some shorts and a hoodie and put your shoes on. you carefully crept out of your room and out into the livingroom, pausing to listen for any noises. once you were sure your parents were asleep, you opened up the front door and slipped outside, shutting the door quietly behind you. by the time you were out of your house, rafe was already parked outside.
rafe was leaning against the door of his car as he waited for you. he heard the door open and shut, looking up and seeing you walking towards him. he could see you were nervous, but it didn't stop him from pulling you into a tight hug. “hey,” he greeted, his voice tired but he felt better with you in his arms. you returned his hug, leaning into the embrace. “hey...” you murmured back, your tone almost equally as tired. you could feel the exhaustion in him as he hugged you and you felt the need to ask, “you okay?”
rafe let out a sigh against your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze before leaning back “not really...” he mumbled, releasing his hold on you reluctantly. he opened the passenger side door for you, waiting until you got in before shutting the door and walking around to get into the driver's side.
you got into his car, leaning back in the seat as you looked over him. you could tell something was bothering him by the look on his face and his tone of voice. it's been a long time since he sounded that exhausted. “...rough day?”
rafe ran a hand over his face, looking over to you wearily “rough life.” he mumbled, starting up the car as he pulled out from the curb. “seatbelt.” you hummed quietly as you reached out to grab the seatbelt, buckling yourself in. you decided not to ask more about what exactly was bothering him; in time, he'd probably talk about it.
the car ride was silent as rafe drove back to his house. you didn't mind though, figuring that he needed the silence in order to calm his head for a bit. a few moments passed before he parked in his driveway, unlocking the doors and getting out. he came around the side and opened your door for you, offering his hand to help you out of the car.
you slipped your hand into his, letting him help you out of the car. walking through his yard, he quietly unlocked his front door and let you in first. “wheezie's home so we're gonna have to be quiet” he said as he shut the door behind him, locking it again.
you followed him inside “gotcha” you whispered as you looked around. “is she awake? i don't wanna be the reason she doesn't sleep.”
“she's asleep.” he mumbled, nodding towards the stairwell. “come on..” he took your hand again, quietly leading you upstairs to his bedroom. once inside, he closed the door and locked it before turning on his bedside lamp and walking over to his bed.
you followed him to his bed, crawling onto it and moving to lay back against the pillows. you could still see the exhaustion in his body as he laid down next to you, his head resting against your shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “wanna talk about anything...?” rafe was silent for a moment, almost as if he was thinking about your question. he really didn't wanna talk about anything at all. all he wanted was to lay here with you, which he thought to himself as he shook his head. “nah”
you nodded once he answered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you closed your eyes. you could tell he didn't want to talk and you were okay with that. you both laid there in comfortable silence, no sounds besides the sound of your breathing and the occasional passing of a car outside. “can i do anything to help?”
it felt good to lay here with you. it was the only real peace he's felt in weeks and it helped calm him a little. when you spoke again, he lifted his head to look at you, his tired eyes meeting yours.
he moved a bit closer to you, his arm around your waist tightening as his head rested on your chest. “this is more than enough for me, sweetheart” he murmured, his fingers brushing against your side. “i do have a request though”
you looked down at him, your fingers lightly running through his hair as you waited for him to speak. you could tell he was still thinking about something and you waited patiently before finally speaking, “what is it?” rafe's eyes closed as your fingers ran through his hair. he loved when you did that and it relaxed him greatly
he was still silent for a few more moments before finally speaking. “i need to relieve some stress.” he murmured, his fingers gently brushing against your waist once more before suddenly resting right above the drawstring of your shorts.
────୨ৎ────
“a-ah shit, rafe” your hands clench by your sides as rafe glides his tip between your drenched folds, looking down at you with this tongue between his teeth. “mmh...this wet already, darling? barely even touched ya yet.” rafe hummed, smirking down at you. all you can do is nod and let out a whimper as he tapped his cock against your cunt. “nuh-uh, words. none of that whimpering shit”
you were already a stuttering, whimpering mess as he ran his fingers over your clit. you needed more from him, wanted to feel more of him, but you knew that he wasn't going to give that to you until you answered.
you let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him, eyes wide. “yes!” you quickly whimpered, “been thinking about it all night. please, please rafe...” you whimpered, your hips bucking up in an attempt to get more from him. “i know baby, i know” rafe murmured, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he teased your clit with his thumb again “been so long since you've had this cock, yeah?”
you nodded rapidly, eyes pleading him to do something, anything. you wanted him so badly and you could tell he was just teasing, which was driving you absolutely insane. “rafe..." you murmured, your voice trembling a little. rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head “come on. don't get all shy with me now. tell me what you want” he said with a smirk, his fingers still moving over your clit, barely applying pressure. he could feel you shaking beneath him, which encouraged him to tease you a little more. “tsk tsk i want an answer. i know you know how to talk, baby. i just wanna hear your pretty little voice say it.”
you swallowed hard as you looked up at him from under your lashes; he looked so damn proud of himself. you were almost positive he got off on teasing you like this, and the last thing you wanted to do was give him that satisfaction. but your patience was wearing thin and you were getting desperate. you just wanted him to touch you already, but he was always so stubborn. you ran your tongue over your bottom lip as you met his gaze again, your voice shaking a little as you finally spoke up, “n-need you rafe…please...”
“mmh, that's my good girl. i knew you could do it baby.” rafe murmured, finally pushing his cock into your aching hole, causing both of you to let out simultaneous moans. “a-ah fuck” you gasp, gripping onto his biceps as he pushes all the way in, making you groan at the feeling, his cock slowly slipping all the way down, filling you to the hilt, “so fuckin' tight” he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his member.
you whimper as he remains motionless, denying you the much needed friction. “mmh what do we say after i give you something, baby?”
you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he murmured the question into your ear. he knew what he was doing. he knew exactly how to get you to say what he wanted you to say, knowing how well he filled you up and how he wasn't moving. you moaned quietly, hands moving to grip onto his back as you looked up at him with watery eyes, “thank you.”
rafe hummed and nodded against your neck, lightly kissing just under your ear as he lifted his head, “good girl.” he said “you're welcome, my love. anytime.”
he finally pulled his hips back a little, thrusting back into you “you feel so damn good, baby.” he breathed before beginning to thrust into you harder, repeatedly hitting your cervix deliciously “been too long without having you.” he murmured, his hand gripping onto the back of your thigh, lifting your leg up over his shoulder. the change of position caused his cock to slide even deeper, making you gasp.
you whimpered at the feeling of him hitting your sweet spot, unable to speak clearly “oh...oh g-god rafe” you tried, your eyes already shut as you tried to move your hips in time with his. he could feel your nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red indents. “look at me.” he murmured in your ear, his hand reaching down to grab your chin, turning your face towards his “look at me while i'm fucking you, sweetheart. ” your mind goes a little blank for a moment when he says that, only able to focus on the feeling of him inside you. it takes a few seconds before you manage to open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. rafe's eyes are focused on you, a small smirk on his lips as he sees you staring “there you are.” he hums, biting down on his lip once he feels you start to clench around him “shit, you gonna cum already?”
“yeah...mmh, so close ray.” you moan, struggling to keep your eyes on him as his hand reaches to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles. “so fast, sweetheart?” rafe murmured with a smirk “been that long, huh? gonna make a mess all over my cock already?” you don't even have time to respond before your orgasm hits you hard, your body shaking as the coil in your stomach snapped. eyes squeezed shut, walls clenching around his twitching shaft. the way your pussy cinched around him is all rafe needed to go over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside you.
“mmh ray?” you murmur, looking up at him with your glossy eyes. “hm?”
“think 'm gonna stay here tonight.”
taglist: @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl
© rafesdollette
#𝒟emitra writes ࿐ྂ#❨ ₊˚ ੭ slutty demi#not sure If I love or hate this#© rafesdollette#rafe cameron#rafe x you#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe smut#rafe x reader smut#rafe fic#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#rafe imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#obx season 4#rafe x reader
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NSFW Alphabet - Logan Howlett Edition
Pairing: Logan Howlett/Reader Warnings: AFAB pronouns, breeding mention, pet names, bodily fluids, p in v actions, no protection, overall horniness, 18+ MDNI. Author's Note: This man is renting space in my synapses, send help.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He is so gentle with you, it almost makes you feel like you’re made out of glass. He prefers to hold you close once you’re thoroughly satisfied, enjoying how your body folds into him to be as close as possible.
If you ask him for water and snacks he’s gone within the second, bringing you whatever you need, and then immediately putting you back on his lap so he can feed you. Don’t argue with him on this, he won’t take no for an answer.
You collapse against the sheets with a sigh, legs still shaky from Logan’s excellent bedside service. You’re practically boneless when he pulls you onto his chest, the dark hair tickling your cheek as he cages you in his embrace.
“Logan, I’m sweaty—“
“Do I look like I give a damn princess?” He grumbles, his hands reaching down to smooth over your hair. “Just let me take care of you, alright?”
Your whining is just for show and he knows this, a small part of you feeling guilty because he always treats you with such respect. He’s not sure what kind of assholes you���ve been dating before but he’s damn certain he’ll be the one to teach you how you should be treated.
You melt in his arms, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his large hands running down your back. His voice cuts through the silence, far more gentle than you’re used to.
“Need anything else doll?” He asks, to which you shake your head.
No, tonight you just need him.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He’s an all around man, asking him that is like asking a man to choose between air and food to survive.
He loves playing with your tits, loves biting at the swell of your breasts before sucking on them, loves burying his face in the valley of them—
He loves using your thighs as an anchor when he eats your pussy, rolling his eyes when they squeeze around his head—
He loves the sight of your ass bouncing back when he fucks you into the mattress, the sound of your combined hips ringing loudly in his head—
He really just loves you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
It only took one time for him to be utterly addicted to your pussy. He refuses to cum anywhere that isn’t inside you at least once, just the sight of it falling from your abuser cunt has him going back for seconds. The sloppy sound of your juices and his cum as he thrusts into you is like asmr.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Masochist to the extreme. You kind of had a feeling with the way he shrugs off pain but you didn’t know how bad it was until you scratched him just a bit too hard while getting your guts rearranged.
Your nails dig into the meat of his arms, a deep-seated groan erupting from the back of his throat at the feeling. Immediately you look down to see the angry red marks left behind that heal within seconds, an apology on your lips interrupted by his voice growling in your ear.
“Do that again.”
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
The man is over two hundred years old, he lays down pipe like a master plumber. Knows all your spots better than you do, knows exactly what gets you going because he can practically taste the arousal in the air. Those senses of his are no joke.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary so he can see your face, doggystyle so he can fuck a hole into the mattress and breed you.
Prefers missionary normally if only for the fact that when he puts even half his full weight on your body you’re forced to lie there and take it, unable to so much as squirm while he fucks you within an inch of your life. Enjoys doggy when the beast inside needs to scratch a particular itch that only seeing you ass up with cum dripping down your thighs can reach.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
A wholesome 50/50 of being love-struck and horny, he has his moments of laughter but they’re almost always immediately followed by pure lust. You’d think he’d be super serious all the time but he’s surprisingly gentle. He prefers to watch you enjoy yourself, he’s much more of a service top in that regard.
Want him to eat you out until you’re pushing his head away? Want him to fuck you nice and slow, keeping you right on the edge? Whatever your flavor is, he’s down for a taste.
That’s not to say he doesn’t have his rough moments as well. It’s very easy for him to lose himself so he tries not to go overboard for your safety, but if you ask him to let loose he’s not going easy on you. Just remember when you wake up unable to walk that you asked for this.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Not groomed at all, just an overall hairy man. He’s got the prettiest happy trail from his navel to his dick that makes his eyes roll when you drag your nails across it. If it made you uncomfortable he’d make an effort to trim.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Very intimate, wants you to know just how much you mean to him. Even when he’s being rough with you he makes sure that your comfort is priority. Talks you through it.
You’re face down, ass up, just the way he likes it. Your thighs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm, pussy practically drooling for him as your slick dribbles down the plushness of them.
It’s a sight that Logan could never get tired of.
His fingers rub soothing circles around your sensitive clit, gathering your wetness between two fingers and listening to your breath hitch when he replaces them with his cock, lightly prodding at your entrance.
“How we feelin’ princess?” He asks, coating his length with your juices.
You mumble praise into the pillow, and sure he can hear it with his enhanced senses, but that’s not the point—he wants you loud and clear.
Gently he lifts you off the bed, a strong arm around your waist as he rocks himself between your swollen folds, lips trailing at your ear as your head rolls back.
“Come on doll, I need to be able to hear you,” he breathes. “Tell me what you want.”
Your hands grab at his arm, a desperate whine on your lips. “Fuck me, please.”
His chuckle reverberates in your ear. “That’s my girl.”
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
When he was younger and still learning how to fight his animal instincts, absolutely. Nowadays he doesn’t really think about it, but occasionally Logan will struggle with keeping his thoughts off of you, especially when you’re wearing something nice and he doesn’t have the time to drag you back to the bedroom.
He’d prefer if you were the one touching him, but his hand will do for now, if at the very least to hold him over until you get home.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Praise - Like mentioned before, adores talking you through it. Favorite nicknames for you are princess, baby, and sweetheart, and his voice in your ear is like heaven.
Pain Kink - BIG masochist. Use him like a scratching post, he loves it. He’ll never admit it but if you bite his lip hard enough to bleed he’ll moan like a whore.
Primal Play - Come on now, the man is an animal at the best of times and downright feral at the worst. This extends beyond the bedroom too, he’s very protective of his mate girlfriend and would move mountains for her.
Breeding - This is an extension of his primal play, he adores filling you up with his cum, whether or not you get pregnant. Something about the sight of it just screams at him like a claim that only he can give you. It’s his cum that paints your pussy, and no one else gets to have that honor.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Ideally the bedroom but he’s one of those people that couldn’t care less, if he wants you he wants you. It’s going to be up to you to be the voice of reason, and if that fails? Better learn to keep your volume down.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Domestic acts, making him feel like a normal man rather than the weapon the world wants him to be.
Making him breakfast? His hands are playing with your hips the whole time, whispering sweet nothings against the skin of your neck, swaying to the imaginary rhythm he sets. Cleaning the countertops? He drapes his wide frame across your back, pinning you to the cold granite while he tells you how good your ass looks in your pants, heavy hands making it known just how much he appreciates your attire. Bring him breakfast in bed in nothing but an apron? He’s pulling you into the sheets and not letting you go until you’re screaming his name.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
As much as a masochist he is, the last thing he’d ever do is hurt you. The most you could ever convince him to do is manhandling you or spanking, but the moment he senses anything but enjoyment he’s on his knees apologizing.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Y’all remember what Doja Cat said about big noses?
If he passes out between your legs he’ll die smiling, if he makes you pass out then he’s never going to let you hear the end of it. Very likely to overstimulate you until you’re pushing him off you, only to pin your hips down and keep on going. Enjoys palming your thighs and burying his face as far into your pussy as he can, his philosophy is if you can still speak he’s not doing well enough.
As for him, he becomes so submissive when you suck him off. It’s the only time he’s guaranteed to let you take the reins, he prefers watching you work rather than taking over. Tucks your hair back, strokes your head, whispers how good you make him feel and how your mouth feels like heaven. When he cums he’ll ask you to open your mouth before swallowing and the sight of your cum-stained lips gets him hard like nothing else.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Normally very sensual, can easily change with the drop of a hat. Long, deep strokes that reach all the right places and make you see stars. Massive service top vibes, one of those lovers that always knows what you need at the moment (he totally can’t hear your heart pounding in your chest, no sir.)
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Yes, and proud to admit it too. Always promises that he’ll be quick, but it never is. He can’t help it, y’know? You make him feel too good.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Yes, but the catch is you have to tell him. You can throw him every hint in the world but he won’t so much as touch you until you use your words. Logan likes hearing how desperate you are, he’s a bit mean like that.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Why would you ever bother asking that? His limit is when you decide to tap out, if even that.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Didn’t really understand and thought you were insulting him at first by offering to use toys in the bedroom. It wasn’t until you gave him a show that he realized just how much he was missing before.
If anything, he doesn’t feel the need to use them on you, but loves watching you use them on yourself.
The small toy buzzes in your hand, the sound of it ringing loudly in the four walls you call a bedroom. Soft sighs accentuated by needy whines, baby pink sheets snaking around your soft thighs, the muffled sounds of your moans when you bite your lip—
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Logan says, mesmerized at the view, eyes glued to where the vibrator meets your swollen clit. He palms at the tent in his jeans, cock twitching when your back arches off the bed with a cry of his name.
He can fucking smell it—your arousal, your need—it makes him drunk, intoxicated off your pleasure. It makes his throat go dry, makes him want to crawl over you and keep you locked beneath him, greedily wringing out every last bit of it.
Your voice cuts through the fog of carnality, a gentle distraction from the beast that threatens to break loose with every passing second.
“Enjoying the view?”
He can only bring himself to nod.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He’s such a fucking tease it’s unreal, but he’s also very impatient. It leads to moments where you’ve been edged for so long that tears are brimming your eyes, and when you look at him with those puppy-dog eyes he can’t bring himself to hold off any longer, all previous plans discarded in favor of folding you in half and exposing your puffy cunt to his hungry gaze.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He gets louder and louder the longer you go on as his animal side overpowers him. He’s no stranger to noise but when he’s deep inside you he can’t help but resort to grunts and growls of your name, makes it known just how good you feel wrapped around his cock.
I personally like the idea that because of his mutation he follows mating rituals like real wolverines do, so if you’re into that he’s extra loud during mating season, to the point that he has to bury his face into your neck or else the whole building will hear him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Likes it when you wear his clothes because they smell like you afterward. Encourages you to do so, and maybe hides your shirts during laundry day as an excuse (but he’ll never admit it.) When you’re not around he’ll even hold the fabric to his nose and take a deep inhale, imagining it was you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
As mentioned before, an overall hairy man. Strong muscles with a healthy layer of fat, likes to laugh at you when you bury your face between his tits because they’re nice and soft.
When it comes to his dick he leaves nothing to be desired—it’s heavy, like real heavy. Nice and girthy with a fat tip that makes your breath catch in your chest every time he glides it in, the slap of his balls against your ass soon following suit. A nice pretty pink with a couple of veins running throughout.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Always when he’s around you, but trained enough to know there’s a time and place. If he had his way you’d never leave his house, but that’s also his protective nature talking.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Likes watch you fall asleep first to make sure you’re safe and sound—a bit paranoid and overprotective in that sense, but he can’t really help it. You’re the best thing that’s happened to him, so it calms him down to know that you’re not going anywhere. Once he’s sure you’re alright he’ll go to sleep, preferably with you on his chest.
#robo writes#x men#x men movies#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#james logan howlett#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#hugh jackman#deadpool and wolverine
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“What’s got you so grumpy?”
Sukuna dodges your finger. It fails to meet its destination of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, earning a frown from you before you huff and try again.
He looks up from his phone with an irritated glance when your fingertip digs into his face.
“What are you talking about?” He grunts.
He knows exactly what you’re talking about. Normal Sukuna is irritable enough—grumpy Sukuna is about as bad tempered as a hornet who’s had its nest kicked. (Which is to say: he’s pretty fucking unfriendly at the moment.)
“You’re sulking,” you point out—and that statement earns a sharp glare from him as you seat yourself on his lap. (Still, he makes room easily for you, leaning back on the couch and putting his phone down to the side so his hands can rest on your hips. Grumpy Sukuna is never grumpy enough to push your body away—if anything, it’s the one way to get him less agitated).
“I’m not fucking sulking,” he says. It’s almost petulant, but you have enough grace to spare his dignity and not point it out. “I don’t sulk.”
“Are you sure?” You raise a disbelieving brow—he clicks his teeth at the way you choose to question him, but it softens considerably when your lips peck his jaw delicately. “You look pretty sulky to me.”
“Get your eyes checked.”
“Can’t. Then I might see you for all your ugliness. We wouldn’t want to throw years down the drain once I come to my senses do we?”
It’s his turn to raise a brow, sarcastically snorting as you give him a cheeky wink. “If you wanna try ‘n be a smart ass, at least be realistic about it. Saw you checking me out just this morning through the mirror.”
“Maybe you need your eyes checked,” you huff, “I was not checking you out.”
“Pretty sure you were,” he smirks, lips pulling into a haughty grin. Getting under your skin with his smugness is about the only way to cheer him up, it seems, because he looks rather pleased when he adds, “it’s okay. Don’t blame ya for bein’ possessed by my impressive physique.”
“Too bad your personality isn’t as dazzling,” you quip back easily.
It’s meant to be lighthearted, of course—but it seems to be the wrong thing to say. Quite wrong, in fact, because as soon as the words escape you, he tenses before locking his jaw.
There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Something you don’t think you’ve ever seen in Sukuna’s face—doubt. It’s a little odd, in all realness. Sukuna is not a doubtful person. He’s confident, and he’s confident enough that it’s almost to a fault. He’s cocky and smug and sometimes a little too self-assured for it to be considered good for his health.
It’s a bit unsettling to see his face almost fall at something you say, especially when you just say it for the sake of light banter.
“Yeah?” He chuckles dryly. It sounds dangerously self-deprecating—enough that it makes you frown. “Good thing I have my abs to keep you glued to my side then, huh?”
“Well, it’s not just your abs,” you hum, one hand smoothing over his shirt to feel the ridges of his muscles through the shirt. “Your boobs are pretty great, too.”
To prove your point, you give his left pectoral a gentle squeeze. He scowls before shoving your hand away as blush creeps along the back of his neck.
“You fucking freak,” he mutters.
Something is bothering him. You know you can’t directly ask it out of him, otherwise he’ll deny it left and right, but something is bothering him. Sukuna is not good with words or emotions. In fact, he’s pretty awful at anything that has to do with anyone’s feelings. (He’s better about yours more than other’s, but he’s pretty far from good.)
You don’t mind. There’s something oddly charming about witnessing the way he navigates softening up for you—it’s like watching a baby take their first steps. Wobbly. Slow. Unsure. Pretty badly executed, but endearingly rewarding all at the same.
Except, this time, it’s not your emotions he’s navigating. For some reason, yours are easy than his own. Navigating yours means he doesn’t have to try. He knows you better than he knows himself. Knows when your feelings are hurt by the twitch of your brows alone. Knows you’re sad by the dimness in your eyes. Knows you’re pretending joy when your laugh is quieter than usual. Knows you’re faking it when your smile is a much more tight lipped and a less bright version.
But his own feelings are complicated. A lot more than he cares to try and understand them for. In true Sukuna fashion, he always aims to ignore his problems until they seemingly disappear.
But you’re too difficult to let that slide. He brushes things under the rug, and you pull the rug from under his feet and make him fall face first into his problems.
“Hey,” you nudge him, cupping his face with your hand gently, “what’s gotten into you? It’s weird when you’re not pissing me off a couple of times every hour.”
“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” He challenges, like your words seem to tick him off more, “what are you sittin’ here for if I’m always pissing you off?”
Oh, you think. So that’s what it is.
You smile, humming before you gently tilt his face up. Something vulnerable is attached to that frown of his. Like he’s waiting for your answer because he needs something to hold onto. Some metaphorical lifeline where your feelings are attached to his own, just to keep you chained together. Where you’re always somewhere that he also is. Where he doesn’t have to care about his emotions because what you feel is what he feels, too, and as long as you’re okay, so is he.
But you care. You seem to care a pretty great deal because you lean in and brush your nose against his as you kiss his lips softly.
“Who cares if you piss me off?” You snort, “I piss you off better. I’m pretty good at it.”
“You are,” he agrees instantly.
You give him a fleeting huff against his mouth as you mumble, “you don’t have to agree so fast.”
It pulls a small laugh from him, making his arms snake around your waist and tug your body closer. Chest to chest, heartbeat thumping in two, synchronized rhythms.
“What happens when I’m all old and expiring and my abs are gone?” He raises a brow. You hum, stroking a thumb along his cheek as you smile and admire him.
“We’ll still be pissing each other off, I bet.”
“That’s supposed to be good?” He repeats, this time much more unsure. Anyone else could hardly catch the air of hesitance in his words, but you catch it instantly.
“Why not?” You shrug, “it always worked for us, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he scoffs, “that’s until it doesn’t.” He spits the words out, not meeting your eyes. It’s like they taste acrid is mouth and he can’t bring himself swallow them down.
You don’t say anything. Instead, you lean in and just press a line of kisses from his chin to the corner of his lips, purposely dodging his mouth and littering small, delicate pecks along his cheek. And then his forehead. And then the bridge of his nose.
Never his lips, though. And he gets increasingly frustrated by it.
“What are you waiting for?” He grumbles, eyeing you with a look that screams: quit fucking around.
You fight back an amused smile. “Does it piss you off?”
“Course it does. Kiss me properly or back off my face—”
“Cause you love me right?” You ask cheekily. He pauses, thinking on it for a moment before slumping wearily.
“And if I do?”
“You piss me off too. Because I love you too,” you whisper, forehead against his as your hands cradle his cheeks. Because you do.
When he texts late, and makes your blood boil, it’s only because you love him. When he’s brutally honest and doesn’t say what you want to hear, you’re only mad because you care what he thinks so much. When he’s stubborn and refuses to meet you halfway, you’re only angry because there’s no one else you’d rather cross the bridge with than him.
He pisses you off. You care enough to be pissed because it’s him. And when you piss him off too, he cares enough to deal with it because it’s you.
It’s a funny, twisted little way to love and be loved, but it works. For some odd reason, it does. It’s a seamless, smooth, crackless road.
You don’t ever fix something that’s not broken.
“That doesn’t make sense,” he sighs, resigning himself to your weird, roundabout explanation. You laugh, pinching his cheek as you grin brightly.
“That’s because you’re a bit dim.”
“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes, “okay. Anything else?”
“Yeah, actually. I love you.”
He pauses. Swallows for a moment before his arms tighten their grip on your hips just a smidge before burying his face into your neck and mumbling, “me too. Love you so much, it pisses me off.”
“I like to get under your skin like that,” you stroke his hair, beaming as you add, “guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”
His lips stretch into a small grin before a low, rumbling chuckle breathes itself against your skin. “Guess so.”
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a/n: insecure modern! au sukuna who doesn’t admit it and refuses to acknowledge that he’s aware he’s difficult to love and can’t understand why you love him but he also doesn’t want to question it for fear of scaring you away is very near and dear to me and i’ll be talking about it from my grave still. you’ll just hear my ghostly voice spooking you through the night talking about how he’s a softie deep down under all the layers. like an ogre okay? ogres have LAYERS.
#—rivistyping!#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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omgggg can you please do bestfriend chris guiding inexperienced reader on how to ride for the first time
BSF!CHRIS GUIDING INEXPERIENCED!READER HOW TO RIDE
˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... smut, p in v, unprotected sex (nuh uh!!), kissing, mentions of hickeys, lowkey hate this💔
“shh- hey. it’s okay, you’re doing so, so good..” chris mumbled, his hands stuck on your hips while his thumbs traced mindless circles over your soft skin, admiring your pretty form on top of him.
your face was contorted with pleasure, eyebrows knit together and eyes pinched shut while trying to adjust to his size. you were sucking him in, his tip already kissing your cervix as you sat on top of him, your walls fluttering around his thick stretch.
“mhh- chris.. i- i can’t-“ your voice cut through the constant praise and sweet murmurs from chris, your nails digging crescent-shaped moons into his shoulders.
he let a soft groan fall from his lips, running one of his hands up your back in a comforting manner, attempting to soothe your nerves and pain just a little. your pussy was already drooling around him, and all it took was a couple right words and a pair of fingers.
“yes you can, sweetheart.. fuck, such a pretty sight. can you believe i haven’t made you do this earlier, huh?” his question was mostly rhetorically asked, not really expecting an answer from you because of the already fucked out expression plastered on your face. gosh, you haven’t even started yet.
“um.. n-no..?” you shook your head weakly, your eyes batting back open to look down at him, his head thrown back against the headboard of his bed, your response earning a chuckle from him.
“i- i think i’m ready..” your words were mumbled, but chris nodded, clearing his throat as he tightened his grip on your hips.
“i’ll help you, okay? then you’ll try.” you nodded in response, his hands slowly guiding your body to move in a back and forth motion, his eyes flickering to your face to see your reaction, if it made you feel good.
still clawing at his shoulders, your jaw fell slack, letting strings of moans fall from your parted lips. chris was nearly about to cum from just the sight, almost not believing a second of what he was seeing—his best friend since forever, riding him like that.. well, grinding.
“yeah? y’like that?” he chuckled dryly, looking up at you through his lashes from his halfway-shut eyes, nearly leaving marks from his tight grip.
whines fell from your lips as you ground on him, your clit brushing perfectly over his pelvis. chris’s grip on your hips became tighter, gently attempting to lift you, helping you ride him properly this time.
“o-oh.. oh my god-“ you moan, pinching your eyes shut at his tip kissed at your cervix over and over again. “f-feels good..”
chris could tell you were close already from how you basically squeezed around him, your cheeks flushed and lips parted into a perfect o-shape.
“so beautiful.. can’t believe i’m the only one who gets to see you like this,” he smirked up at you, deciding to loosen his grip on you, causing your movements to still. your eyes flutter back open in confusion, his fingers making their way to your waist instead.
“w-what are you doing?” you whined, your hands running down across his chest, eyes glued to his.
“come on. keep going baby, you can do it,” he lightly ran a thumb over your bottom lip that was stuck in a pout, dragging it down just enough to part your lips.
but you couldn’t. at least that’s what you had convinced yourself. “chris.. i can’t, please! it hurts..” you whined and pleaded, but chris just shook his head in return.
“oh, poor thing.. don’t be whiny, just do what i did, yeah? i promise it’ll feel better in a second,” he cooed, his hand cupping your face to lean in, pressing a kiss to your lips while his hand snaked to the back of your head, keeping the kiss simple but firm.
pulling away with a faint smile, you nodded. with your hands still on his chest, you tried moving your hips until you found a somewhat nice pace and motion. pretty moans slipped from your lips that echoed with the lewd squelches from your leaky cunt, eliciting a groan from chris.
“juuust like that.. that’s good-“ he murmured with a strain to his voice, his fingers gripping your waist almost leaving red marks, complimenting the ones he left earlier down your neck and collarbone.
your eyes rolled to the back of your head before batting them shut, eyebrows knitted up in pleasure as you desperately tried your best to keep going, to keep up your face.
but it was getting hard, your thighs aching from the unfamiliar stretch, from both the uncomfortable position and how snug chris was stuffed inside of you.
“chris! g’nna… c-cum..” you babbled between whimpers, letting go of his chest to hold onto his shoulders again, your movements turning sloppy and haphazard.
“g-go ahead.. y’look so adorable, doing just what i’m telling you to,” a choked moan fell from his lips, before taking the plush and swollen lip between his teeth.
when the waves crashed over you, letting loud and careless noises slip from between your lips, he helped you ride out your high, before you both stilled your movements. chris wrapped his arms around you, letting you collapse onto his chest.
“so pretty.. y’think you can keep going for me, angel?” he whispered while playing with strands of your hair, his lips grazing your ear before his hands sneaked back down to your hips.
more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader
𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: that fucking cheetah print jacket you fucking hottie!!! anyway- not over the fact my fic was in an edit.. im literally sobbinggg its so funny to me. love you freaks!:33
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© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023
#🐇་༘࿐ works#⌗⋆. bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo angst#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets fanfic#christopher sturniolo
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balm | bucky barnes
bucky barnes x reader — ★ — wc 1k
summary: bucky finds out that you got a (minor) bruise and didn’t tell him about it
tw: fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of accident and bruise, reader gets a little guilty, bucky gets a little upset
“Hey,” you feel Bucky’s hands on your hips, the soft touch of his lips to your cheek. “Hey, doll. Did you get lovelier over the weekend?”
You try to ignore the stinging sensation where his hand rests against your waist. You turn around to face him, abandoning your task of chopping the vegetables.
“Bucky,” you smile softly, arms going around his neck. He grins and kisses you again. “Hi. I missed you.”
“So did I, pretty girl,” he murmurs, thumbing at the skin underneath the edge of your shirt. He’s gentle as always, but the pain is almost unbearable. You try not to squirm. “There were so many times I almost called. But of course, Sam wouldn’t let me. You know, strictly classified location and all that.”
Bucky had gone on a mission over the weekend, and had just gotten back a couple hours ago. You let yourself into his apartment as soon as you got a text from him.
He’d mentioned craving pasta, so you started making some. The only thing you were trying to think about right now was making him feel loved after what must have been an exhausting few days.
You hum understandingly, turning back towards the kitchen platform and picking up the knife. Your shoulders almost sag with relief when Bucky lets go of your hips and stands beside you.
He eases the knife out of your hands, ignoring your protests. “Seriously, doll, it’s okay. I can do this. Why don’t you get started on the pasta?”
“Fine,” you sigh, moving to make way for your boyfriend to use the chopping board.
Bucky chuckles at your stubbornness. He glances over as you stand on your tiptoes to reach the cupboard above the stove.
One moment, you’re rummaging through the shelf to find pasta, and the next, you feel his strong hands curving around your stomach and pulling you back down.
“Bucky —“
“What —“ Bucky interrupts, spinning you around. His hands find your shirt. “— is that?” He lifts it up, lightly brushing his fingertips over the dark purple lying just above your waistline. You try not to flinch. He notices, his frown deepening.
“It’s a… um… a bruise.”
“I know it’s a bruise, doll,” Bucky sighs. He crouches to get a better look at it, and you feel your muscles tensing up. From the stress or the pain, you’re not sure. “I mean, how did you — when did you get this? How did this happen?”
You swallow. His concern makes your heart squeeze in awful ways. “I, um… I got it today.”
“Today?” his gaze flicks up to yours worriedly as he stands up straight. “How?”
“Well, so you see,” you suck in a breath, “there was this other car which crashed into mine from behind —“
“What?!”
“No! Wait,” you grab his hands desperately, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’s not as bad as you think it is, really. Just let me finish.”
You could’ve sworn he was glaring at you, but he kept his mouth shut.
“So, nothing major happened —“ you gulp at his deadpan look, “— really! I just got jerked a litte from the impact, and the steering wheel hit me.”
“This hard?”
You confirm it with a nod.
Bucky exhales, fingers finding the rough patch again as he slips his fingers under your shirt. He presses it gently. You wince. “Did you at least get it cleaned up?”
The guilty expression on your face tells him enough. But you still confirm it with a feeble, “no.”
His eyebrows bunch together. “That can’t be good,” he mutters to himself, tugging on the waistband of your shorts to get a better look. “Can you please come to the toilet with me? I think we should disinfect it.”
You’re too overwhelmed with shame to do anything but agree. You let Bucky pull you to the washroom, manoeuvre you with his kind hands to sit on the closed toilet seat. He sits below, first aid kit in his lap.
You know he’s upset, even if he doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t show in the gentle way he wipes a washcloth over the area; the way he rests his chin on your knee as he works.
But it does show when he starts to apply the antiseptic cream. You hiss between clenched teeth, and he seems to have been reminded of the fact that you’re in pain, that you were in pain and you didn’t bother telling him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
You don’t reply, opting instead to bite down on your lip. Bucky is quick to reach for your face, gently pulling it free from your assail.
He asks again, softer, like he wasn’t kind enough the first time. It makes you feel like a bitch.
“You just got back, you know,” you mumble. “You’re probably exhausted, and — and sick of me, and…”
“Sick of you?” he interrupts quietly, something akin to confusion on his features. He sounds hurt. “I could never be sick of you, doll. And… and I missed you. You know I missed you.”
Once again, you don’t know what to say. He doesn’t need you to.
“Listen,” he murmurs, tugging your shirt back down, “It’s my job to worry about you, okay? I don’t want you worrying about me worrying about you. Because I want to.”
“Are you sure —“
“I’m sure, lovely girl,” he says, getting up on his knees to kiss you. You bend forwards, feeling his affection soothe over you like a balm.
Bucky pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. “Promise not to hide things like these from me again, okay? I want to care about you.”
“You want to care about me.”
“I do,” he murmurs, smiling slightly at the awe in your tone. “I do, doll. I love you.” He presses a kiss to your nose. “I love you.”
Bucky revels in the beauty of your smile when you say it back, the first real one he got from you all evening. He was glad to be home.
#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes fandom#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky x female yn#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#the winter soldier#the winter soldier x reader#the winter soldier x you#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x y/n#winter soldier fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#james barnes
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— warm ★ matt sturniolo
— CONTENTS: established relationship; p in v; creampie; cockwarming; semi-public sex; lowkey sub!matt
— NOTES: good evening my loves!! im doing my best to post 1 full fic a week and hcs / blurbs on the other days i hope you guys see my effort lmfao “where’s dom matt” HE DOESNT LIVE HERE ANYMORE. HE’S GONE. and now we have a very long milf! X chris fic to work on. not proofread, enjoy!!!
matt was eager to try new things. new restaurants, new places to go, new parking lots to visit. in this particular night, you and matt had the duty to drive his brothers around. of course, he could just drop them off and pick them up later, but why not hanging out with his beautiful girlfriend while you both wait?
“where to, miss?” matt asked as his brothers walked out of the car, gently squeezing your thigh.
“wherever you wanna go” you say, placing your hand above his. throughout the ride, matt’s grip grew tighter and his breathe became heavier, as if there wasn’t enough air for you both. you sensed the shift in the atmosphere and gulped down, squeezing his hand lightly.
a small “hm?” came from matt’s lips, he was aware of each and every movement of yours. “no, nothing” you chuckled, trying to laugh it off.
the truth is that matt looked incredibly good, better than ever. his messy hair matched perfectly with his brown shirt and the cold metal of his rings pressed against your bare thighs, giving you goosebumps.
“c’mon, tell me what’s on your mind” matt said as soon as he parked the car on an empty street. “how on earth will your brothers find us?” you asked, noticing there was no one around.
“well, that’s the point” matt grinned, his fingertips wandering under your skirt. “i’m kidding, we have our location shared all the time so they’ll find us” he assured you, still caressing your skin.
“matt” you whispered, not being able to wait any longer before smashing your lips against his. he immediately leaned in, deepening the kiss as he slid his tongue inside your mouth, dragging the damp muscle against yours.
the kiss was wet, loud and desperate, as if you were touching each other for the first time. matt’s pants started to tighten — he was so easy to get going. a lingering kiss, a neck bite, a naughty smile, anything from you would get him pathetically hard, just like now.
“fuck” matt breathed out. “missed you s’much” he said as his hands travelled through your body, touching all his favorites spots. he held your waist with both hands, trying to bring you closer somehow.
you smiled at his eagerness, pulling away from the kiss and moving to his lap. “there we go” matt whispered, forcing your hips down on his thigh. you gasped at the sudden pressure, trying to keep your composure.
“baby, we’re not gonna fuck here” you spoke when matt brought his fingers under your shirt. his blue orbs widened in surprise, a pout appearing on his swollen lips. “w-why not?”
“your brothers are gonna be back anytime” you told him, cupping his cheeks and giving him a peck. “and we’re in public, matthew”
“don’t call me that” he whined at the name. “you know i like other names better” matt complained, not even thinking about giving up.
“yeah? like good boy?” you teased, ruffling his hair. matt threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his cock twitch.
he quietly nodded, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. “so you’re gonna be my good boy and behave, alright?” you continued as matt dragged his face across your chest.
he looked up at you with puppy eyes, silently asking for at least some attention. “what do you want hm?”
“warm, please” matt practically begged, his voice coming out in a low whisper.
you smiled at matt, adjusting your position on his lap. he gasped when you fully sat on his crotch, pressing your palm against his hardened cock. you began to unbuckle his belt, quickly opening his zipper and revealing the wet patch on his underwear.
“just warm, yeah?” you repeated, touching his waistband, kissing his neck and going down to his collarbone as you pulled his dick out, wrapping your hand around matt’s shaft.
you pumped it a few times, spreading the pre-cum and coating his length. you touched his wrist and guided matt’s fingers to your panties, which he quickly pulled aside before pressing your clit with his thumb, gently rubbing it.
you let out a deep sigh, almost giving in. you lift your hips as you keep on stroking matt’s cock, guiding it towards your wet entrance. you guys were not having sex — he just needed to be warmed, and you just needed to be filled up.
“s-shit” matt mumbles as you rub your folds against his tip, teasing him. “please, i need inside” he complained once more, still pulling your panties to the side and holding your waist.
you gradually lowered yourself on his shaft, mouth hanging open from how big matt was. it seemed like forever until he got all the way in, his incredibly long dick hitting your cervix and stretching your walls open. you wrapped your arms around matt’s shoulders — it was your turn to hide on the crook of his neck.
matt gently caressed your back while placing kisses on your collarbone, an unreasonable amount of thanks coming from the back of his throat. “so tight ‘n so warm…” he said, feeling himself throb against your walls “feels so good”
“i love when you fill me up, prince” you cooed, running your fingers on his brown locks. you let go of the hug to look at him before lifting your shirt and placing your palm against your lower tummy. “you’re right here” you said, pointing to the outline of his dick showing.
matt sunk his teeth on his bottom lip, unwittingly bucking his hips forward, not being able to hold himself “s-sorry sorry fuck you just look so pretty taking my cock” matt explained, breathing heavily as he wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to bring you even closer. “matt, be a good boy hm?”
“‘m tryin’ i promise but you’re squeezing me so good” he cried, giving you puppy eyes again. you already knew that he we wanted two to cum, but for that, he needed your boobs. matt held you tighter, pouty lips revealing that he needed something to suck on.
you could be mean and give him your fingers, but you could tell he was really trying his best, considering that his cock leaked inside you. you smiled at him and and brought your shirt up, showing him your boobs.
he immediately shoved his face on your chest, moaning before latching on your nipple. he sucked hungrily, slowly moving his hips upwards, trying to get some relief to his aching cock. “i d-dont think i can hold it” matt spoke, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your tit.
“and how am i supposed to get back home hm? full of your cum?” you responded and matt whimpered — it was all too much. your breasts, your voice, your hands, your pussy. “can i? please?” he asked.
“you don’t sound that desperate, baby. i think i can keep warming you just like this, right?”
“n-no! please! i wan’ cum for you, please!” you chuckled at his desperation, ruffling his hair and caressing his cheek.
with a simple nod, you allowed matt to let go — and you needed him to do it fast. from afar, you could see his brothers taking slow steps towards the car, silently approaching.
you praised matt as he released his thick spurt inside you, “good boy” whispered over and over along with kisses across his face. matt was completely worn out, panting and trembling.
you removed yourself from him, feeling the sudden emptiness along with the sticky liquid coming from your hole barely being held by your panties as you jumped back to the passenger seat and zipped matt’s pants up.
he had a confused expression, furrowed eyebrow and a pout on his lips, as if asking “why did you leave?”.
his question was answered a second later, when both of his brothers opened the door, entering the vehicle with a loud chatter. “are we interrupting something?” chris playfully asked, noticing the awkwardness between you.
“no, we’re fine! we were just cuddling, matt needed to warmed up” you played along, squeezing matt’s thigh as he gulped and started the car.
little did he know he was gonna have to clean the mess he made.
#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#matt x y/n#sub!matt#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#maria's fics#maria writes matt
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It's cold and Aizawa hasn’t offered you his coat.
You two have been seeing each other for the past three months, you’ve known him longer. There’s little dates when you both have the time, at his place but it’s usually yours. He spends the night, you order take out when you both can’t bare to cook, and you spend your nights reading while he dozes next to you.
Its quite domestic for such a new relationship.
And it’s not like you wouldn’t call him chivalrous, he’s as chivalrous as you like in a guy, a good in-between. But you wish he would look at you and notice that you’re shivering.
Now your footsteps are getting heavier with each passing moment, the aggravation becoming more and more apparent on your features as the chill in the air gets colder and colder. You think you might kill him, and you secretly hope he looks your way–
“Are you okay?” Shouta asks, circling his arm around your waist. He pulls you against him and the warmth is good for the moment.
You’re still mad, or at least you want to stay mad. “Just say you hate me.”
He’s grinning now, its subtle but it’s still a grin. And you’re tempted to push him away and continue sulking in your annoyance.
“You’ve been shivering for the past 10 minutes, you don't want my jacket?” He’s teasing you, his hand squeezing the flesh above your hip, through your clothes. You can sort of smell his cologne but it’s too faint compared to the smell of earthiness and crisp air.
You look at him, really look at him, and you can’t help the smile growing on your face. It makes your cheeks hurt in the cold air.
“I thought you were gonna be a gentleman and keep me warm,” You reply, more sugary than you’d like to come off.
He’s looking at you with that lazy look in his eyes, the same one he gives you before he’s about to tell you some boring joke in bed.
He chuckles dryly and pulls away from you, taking his coat off and draping it over your shoulders. And you can’t help but think he looks cute in his fitted henley shirt.
“Is that warm enough?” He presses a chaste kiss into your temple before wrapping an arm around your waist for a second time.
You mumble a quick “yeah” and lean into him.
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ᝰ KATSUKI FUCKING YOU IN THE PORSCHE .ᐟ
̽ ⋆ ﹒♡﹒ inspired by this from @with-my-calamitous-love !
master list ‣ ‣ @zennypiee
“We’re gonna be fuckin’ late.”
It’s the third time he’s repeated himself, and Katsuki’s weak attempt at convincing you to be on time for yet another stuffy heroes banquet isn’t working. He’s been trying to show his face in public more, courtesy of his PR manager. But you know that you’d both much rather park in an empty lot so you can bounce on his cock.
Long, thick fingers tap the steering wheel in a quick rhythm, the muscles in his forearms flexing with every small movement. It’s the end of summer, and Katsuki’s skin is a bit tanner than usual. You thank God the weather is still warm enough that Katsuki’s rolled the sleeves of his silky black button up to his elbows.
Your stare is open and shameless, biting the inside of your cheek as he rolls the wheel with one hand to turn right. “So what? C’mon baby, the banquet will continue whether we’re late or not. Besides, you didn’t even want to go, Kat.”
Katsuki laughs, a short and rough sound. You glance at him and he meets your gaze, smirking, then returns to watching the road, flicking on the turn signal. “Fine, fuck the banquet. You love gettin’ your way, don’t ya? Spoiled girl.”
He’s teasing, but heat sinks low into your belly anyways. “Say whatever you want, but I know you love spoiling me, Katsuki.”
Katsuki hums in response. The hand that’d been resting on the gearshift lands on your thigh, palm warm and melting through your dress like butter. He squeezes once, gripping the fabric and tugging until it starts to bunch around your upper thighs.
Silently, you check your purse in hopes of finding a hair tie. You’d like to be somewhat presentable for the banquet afterwards.
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
The backseat of the Porsche is quite small.
Katsuki’s too tall, and it’s not realistic for you both to be able to bend and twist to get the right angles. Not that the front is much better, but at least Katsuki can scoot his seat far back enough that you’ll fit snug in his lap. Even if the steering wheel digs into your back every now and then.
One of your knees is trapped between Katsuki’s thigh and the center console, pinching it to the point of being annoying but easy to ignore. The other presses against the door. You shift your weight, adjusting your feet so the tops of them are propped up Katsuki’s thighs and it relieves the ache on your knee.
Your pussy drags along his shaft as you do, the only thing keeping him from sliding inside is the fabric of your panties. He’d shoved his slacks and briefs to mid thigh before you straddled him and now the heat of him is unbearable.
“Fuck,” Katsuki chokes out, gripping your waist out of habit as his dick twitches. “You’re goddamn gorgeous, I wanna see your tits.” He moves one hand up to your chest and yanks down the collar of your dress, breasts bouncing free, and he seals his lips around one of your nipples, sucking so hard your hips jerk forward.
“Oh god, Kat, don’t tease,” you warn, fingers fisting the silky material over his shoulders. Katsuki’s tongue flicks your tender nipple, skating his hand up your ribs and down your waist, over your thigh and between your legs. He pulls your panties to the side, letting cool fingers slide between your lips. They briefly dip inside, and you rock down only for Katsuki to retreat.
Katsuki frees your nipple with a pop and leans back to speak, more than likely to antagonize you, but you surge forward and cut him off with a bruising kiss. Katsuki’s head knocks into the seat from the force of it, punching a groan from his chest. The clean, citrusy scent of his cologne curls in the air and tickles your nose.
You shove your tongue into his mouth, reaching down to circle your fingers around his shaft. Tightening your hold causes Kastuki to suck in a sharp breath, and you break the kiss to rest your forehead on his.
Rising up on your knees, you use your grip on his dick to tap his tip against your clit, a prickle of heat shooting up your spine, before you line him up and start to sink down. The soft heat of your pussy locks tight around him and Katsuki tenses up beneath you, latching onto your hips.
Your breath catches in your chest until you bottom out, ass meeting his thighs. Your pussy throbs from the burning stretch.
“Jesus,” Katsuki breathes, lids fluttering as he struggles to keep them open. “Feels too fuckin’ good, babygirl.” You nod your agreement, slack-jawed, and straighten your spine. It’s like Katsuki’s cock is in your stomach.
“Help me Kat,” you demand, bracing your hands on the seat behind the blonde.
One side of Katsuki’s mouth lifts into a smug grin, shifting himself a bit lower into the seat. Large hands cup your ass and squeeze tight enough to leave marks. “Hang on tight, princess.”
The first thrust sparks pleasure deep in your pelvis, heat rushing to your toes. After that, each time you push back to meet him, it’s slick, loud, and frantic. He fucks you fast and hard, this being one of the few times Katsuki’s agreeable to a quickie. The heat rises until the windows fog up, your handprint becoming very visible to the outside eye.
Once you’ve settled back into the passenger seat you touch up your makeup, thankful it wasn’t ruined. Although, your hair tie does get put to good use.
#fucking in the Porsche#spoiler - you’re riding him in the front seat#bakugou x reader#bakugou smut#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki smut#bakugou headcanons#mha x reader#mha smut#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki x you#mha x you
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i really want to go camping. just a nice, solo camping trip to relax and have time to myself :)
I’d wake up and make breakfast, hike up to a different spot, start a fire and forage for a bit, draw or carve something, and setup camp for the night.
i have one pair of pjs with me and my sleeping bag for the night because i don’t have to worry about anyone judging what i wear or asking me for a spare blanket. So i packed just a pair of booty shorts and a smallish tank top. it’s just basic undergarments, nothing fancy, and i would be pretty embarrassed if anyone knew i wore these drabby clothes to sleep.
after i make a cup of sleepytime tea and wait for the fire to die out, i snuggle up in my sleeping bag. it’s a bit chillier tonight but i don’t have any other clothes to wear on top of this since i only brought my pjs and my stinky hiking clothes.
whatever. i drift off to sleep and dream of watching shooting stars falling around me, so pretty. as they crash onto the ground around me i feel the heat from them on my skin. it’s getting warmer, but i also really feel it on my cheeks. like i’m flushed or blushing. i watch the stars spark into flames and die out into embers.
animals start to surround me. deer, rabbits, foxes, and coyotes. they all come up around me and start sniffing my face and body. they start licking my face and neck, i giggle trying to push them away, it tickles. one of the coyotes that’s licking my stomach starts traveling down toward the hem of my shorts. woahhh haha, watch out buddy, i tell him.
Obviously not understanding english, he nudges his snout under the hem and takes a lick on my parts. i push his head away harshly and sit up. Immediately im pushed back down by the other animals and a huge buck comes and steps on my hair and arms so i can’t move.
i know this is a dream but how am i not waking up already???
a rabbit comes and starts pulling my shorts down, the coyote comes back and nudges his snout between my legs, i scream and try to close them but he turns and bites one. fuck, that felt real.
He goes back and starts licking, hesitant at first, just seeing how it tastes i guess. since foraging and meal prepping the smart and healthy way, ive only packed like fruit and stuff so obviously it probably tastes like really fucking good. at least that’s all i can assume from him diving in, licking deeper and deeper. fuck her tongue is fucking huge. it goes in and out fluidly. the slick sounds filling the air along with my whimpers and the other animals breathing and chirping and whining.
i feel it building up in my tummy, something molten. fuck, this is the weirdest wet dream i’ve ever had.
all of the sudden, his tongue dives insanely deep and curls into one of my spots. I wake up with a gasp and shaking through an orgasm. letting out a loud screaming moan, my eyes shoot open as i feel it curl inside me again.
WHAT THE FUCK
a tall dark figure is above me, my sleeping bag is unzipped and this persons hand is between my legs, his fingers curl inside me again. i scream, grabbing his arm and trying to push him away and get his fingers out. he plunges them deeper and uses his other hand to wrap around my neck and push it to the ground, holding it there.
i try to scream but can’t with my minimal airway, so i struggle and whimper, squeezing and trying to tear his arm away from my neck but it won’t budge. his fingers are still thrusting in and out of me, sometimes slowing down to explore and prod at my spots. i really cant help but shiver from the stimulation and orgasm from earlier. but who the fuck is the guy and how did he get in here and find me?!?
he finally speaks, moving his fingers to slip out a bit. “you weren’t this wet the whole time darlin’, my friend had to help you out to start, could barely get him off’a you. but i can’t blame him…” the dark figure takes his fingers out slowly with a shhlickkk sound, putting them up to his mouth, “…because you sure do taste fucking heavenly.” he leans to the side so i can see behind him something moves, a fucking dog. what the fuck. i thrash and whimper. “don’t fucking move. he bit you once, he’ll do it again.” I freeze, the bite, the dream, fuck it was all real.
the dog starts whining and tries to come up to me but the man pushes him back. he pushes his fingers back into me and starts moving them again, fuck i’m so overstimulated it almost hurts. “fuck, he’s eager. do u mind if he goes for a second course?” “fuck you,” i strain out. he opens my legs barely and the dog jumps over me sniffing and licking as deep inside as he was in the dream. fuckkk this is horrible i could get a disease or something, he needs to stop licking at my fucking spots it’s really too much.
the pressure starts building again. oh no, no no no no. please god i can fucking cum on a dogs tongue. opposing to my thoughts, my body gets closer and closer and- he stops. i freeze and tears start flowing from my eyes. from relief his contact from me is gone and because my body is so worn out now.
SHITT, something scrapes at my hips, the dogs paws, what the fuck is going on?? “sorry darling, he needs a little help, do you mind?” the man takes the pillow out from under my head and harshly lifts my hips, placing it underneath. he takes his hand off my throat finally, i gasp for air and can barely speak through my damaged vocal chords, “fuck you asshole.” “uhh yeahhhh i won’t, but he’s about to.” he nudges the dog forward. the man stuffs my shorts into my mouth so i can’t scream. how the fuck is this happening.
the dog immediately scratches at my hips again and starts rutting his hips toward me. FUCK NO. i thrash around but feel something poke my neck. it’s the man holding my wood carving knife i. his hand against my neck. “move, and I’ll fucking slit your throat.” tear start flowing from my eyes. how did i ever get in this position. i feel something scortching start to poke at my entrance, fuck please no please please please no…
the dog edges toward me more and suddenly plowing himself so deep inside me, how the fuck did i think doggy dicks were small??? this feels fucking huge, it fucking hurts. he’s thrusting in and out and an inhumane pace. his huge red doggy part pushes every single one of my spots and i can’t think anymore, i can’t even move. it’s like he’s going through me i can almost feel it in my stomach. he starts growling and i feel it get bigger. no way, this dog is not gonna knot me. please god. he can’t fit it in thank god.
“aw cmon buster, you can do better than that,” the mysterious man says before pushing the dogs backside against me and i feel it force inside me FUCK.
fuck that’s huge, i can’t fucking move because i think im gonna break. help please someone help me god…
i feel it. the flooding of molten liquid filling me. all i can do is whine through this soaked through fabric. i’m such an idiot for getting myself in this stupid situation, for not bringing a gun, im so stupid. there’s nothing i can do now except stay still while this dogs huge knot presses on my spot and his cum dumps into my cervix. i feel it dripping out. all over my sleeping bag and the floor of the tent. “how’d that feel hun? seems buster loved it, did you?” he takes his finger and wipes from the base of the dogs cock, bringing the liquid up to my mouth and smearing it all over my lips. i feel it leak down into my mouth and i’m utterly repulsed.
the dog breaks away with a POP and my legs and hips and whole body goes lax. the man chuckles and puts his hand down there again. oh no please don’t, and he doesn’t. instead, he scoops up the dogs cum and pushes it back into me. “good girl keep it in ok? the scent of it will help him track you down again.” i groan weakly and my vision begins to go blurry. the last thing i see is him throwing a stick outside the tent and the stupid dog running off after it to fetch.
fuck camping.
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ghost in the machine
in which spencer reid coaxes reader out of an episode of extreme dissociation after a triggering therapy session
angst, fluff warnings/tags: established relationship, accidental mild injury, blood, unspecified trauma, but at the very least implied past emotional abuse, anxiety, reader has ptsd and is in #denial about it a/n: I'm hellaaaa chill sometimes I just lose hours of my day if I think about my childhood too hard
It’s normal for you to get home and immediately wash your hands—a habit you picked up from Spencer. So you walk through the door, and you close it, and you take off your shoes and you hang up your coat and he calls hey from the couch.
You don’t respond. Or do you? You’re not sure. But you’re washing your hands, and then as you go to dry them, you notice your coffee mug from this morning, still sitting on the counter.
I should wash that, you think, and so you pick it up and you take it back to the sink.
Sink. Sink equals washing hands.
You’re washing your hands again.
What did you mean to do?
Dishes? Right. The mug is… gone, seemingly, but there’s a knife in the sink, too—you pick it up, and you’re about to rinse it off, and then it’s clattering from your hands. Somebody is pulling you back from the sink.
Someone is saying your name a whole bunch of times.
You turn, blinking, and there’s Spencer, glowing softly in the yellow light of the kitchen.
He looks so concerned. He strokes your cheek but you feel it less than you seem to observe it from a distance. Says your name one more time, eyes softening a little.
“What?” You murmur, as if in a trance.
He blinks.
“You dropped a mug. You’re bleeding.”
Well, that’s news to you. It seems like a preposterous claim, but you look down, and sure enough—that coffee mug which had disappeared from the sink is in pieces on the floor and the tile is smeared in red.
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? Are you okay?”
“I’m bleeding.”
His brows furrow.
“Yes, I see that. Do you remember breaking the mug?”
The mug. Oh, yeah. Now that you think about it—yeah, you do remember dropping it. Watching it break into a hundred pieces. That noise, of dishes breaking and clattering—suddenly you inhale deeply.
“I broke it,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I broke it—”
The memory of the sound is cacophonous, deafening and completely inescapable.
“Hey, hey. You’re okay. Nobody’s upset at you. It’s just a mug.”
But that doesn’t make it any easier to lower your shoulders from where they’ve tensed to your ears, because once a dish breaks, there’s always a second of terrible, tremulous silence, before it explodes and somebody is screaming, painting every wall in the house with their rage. You squeeze your eyes shut. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, you whisper, wordlessly, just as you did so many years ago.
“It’s just a mug,” he says again like that will help. “I’m gonna clean it up, okay? It’s gonna be like it never even happened.”
And that does provide some comfort—the fanciful idea of undoing. Of closing your eyes against the something terrible and wishing it away like you’ve always done and having it actually be gone when you open them. Spencer must be magic.
“I’m gonna clean it up, but I want to make sure your foot is okay first. Is that okay?”
You take a deep, shuddering sniffle and nod, but that warm fog is pouring down the corridors in your brain like smoke in a maze. It obscures everything. Your feelings. The pain. The fear, thank god. There must be shards in your foot. Spencer apologizes from below as he peels off your bloodied sock, where he’s pulling the first aid kid from under the sink and working on you, but you don’t feel the pain. You don’t feel anything except the pressure of the bandage around your foot as he stands.
He says your name again.
“Hm?”
You’re scaring him. That much is evident from the look on his face. You wish you could stop, but it’s like you’re in a dream again. The brief clarity that moment of panic had provided is gone.
“Can we just—can we go sit down?” He asks, already putting a hand on your waist. Sure. Why not. He supports your weight as you hobble around the broken mess on the ground and all the way to the couch. Oh. It’s too soft. Too forgiving. You sink into it too deeply, like you’re being swallowed, or breathed into a pair of monstrous lungs.
Spencer is crouching in front of you, pushing hair from your face.
“What’s going on, baby?”
“Nothing,” you murmur. “I’m fine. I just… dropped… a mug.”
“You didn’t remember or notice that you dropped the mug until I pointed it out. You washed your hands twice. You were about to try and wash a knife without a sponge.”
“No, I’m just… I’m tired. It’s…”
You trail off again, any further attempt at a meager excuse walled off a thick swirling fog. It’s like you’re trying to walk but you can’t see more than a few feet ahead of you. You can hardly think, let alone speak.
Spencer frowns deeper.
“It’s what?”
You pause for a long time.
“Um… Don’t remember.”
“You’re scaring me,” he whispers, and again you wonder why, only you can’t really wonder at the moment. “Did you hit your head? Where did you come from?”
“When?” You ask.
“Just now. When you came home, where were you coming from?”
“Diane. I was, um—I was at therapy.”
“No stops on your way home?”
“No,” you say. You’re pretty sure. You actually have no memory of what happened between leaving Diane’s office and walking through the front door.
“Did you feel okay before you started therapy?”
“… Yeah.”
“So this started after?”
“What?”
“Your inability to put a sentence together, honey. You’re really out of it.”
“Oh.” Your eyes sting. It feels like an insult. “‘M fine.”
He reaches up to cup your cheeks.
“What did you and Diane talk about?” He asks gently, a little less anxiously, like he’s figured out what’s wrong with you.
At this, your mouth goes dry. What was before swirling fog has become a hulking black wall of solid obsidian. There’s nothing.
“Um…”
“Can you remember?”
Something hot traces the length of your cheek from your eye.
“No,” you whisper, sounding utterly distraught. “No, I can’t remember. I can't remember anything.”
More tears are coming now. How could you forget? You’re trying so hard to remember. How did you even get home?
“Okay. That’s okay, angel. You don’t have to remember.”
“I’m sorry. Something’s… wrong…”
“Don’t be sorry. I think you just got really overwhelmed at therapy and now your brain is trying to protect you. Can you tell me what you’re feeling in your body?”
Your… your body?
Nothing. It feels like nothing.
“Why don’t you try and take a deep breath? I’ll do it with you.” He brings your hand to his chest, and your finger twitches against the hard abalone button. His chest expands, and you try to do the same, letting the cool rush of air down your throat. The room spins.
“Woah,” you mutter, suddenly hyper aware of your breathing.
“Slow down. We’re okay. You’re safe.”
He leads you through a few more deep breaths and you manage to get to a place where they don’t feel so precarious and unsteady. Your head sparkles with fresh oxygen and everything is too much. After a moment you’re settling your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. Spencer rubs soothing lines up and down the side of your legs.
“How do you feel now?”
“Not good,” you whisper. “My foot hurts.”
He hums.
“Technically I shouldn’t let you take Ibuprofen because it’s a blood thinner and you have an open wound, but I think it’ll be okay just this once. You okay if I go get some?”
You nod, rubbing at your eyes with your palms until you see stars. The brain fog hasn’t lifted, but it’s thinned considerably.
He comes back a few moments later with two round pills and a glass of cold water. The shock of it in your hand zaps your brain and you almost drop it but Spencer seems to have anticipated this so he hadn’t let go of the glass yet. He administers the pills once your hand is steady and you take them, feeling the river of ice down your throat and into the pool of your stomach. It seems to travel outward, extending into every reach of your body, bringing the sensorial world back to the forefront of your consciousness. Spencer must notice the goosebumps because he’s unfolding a blanket and wrapping it around you tightly, before pulling you into his arms where he sits and tucking your head beneath his chin. You let your eyes flutter shut, embracing the warmth, the pressure, the soft fabric against your skin.
“I don’t know what happened,” you murmur. “I don’t… feel right.”
“That’s okay. I know it feels scary, but nothing’s wrong. I think you maybe talked about something that’s really hard to talk about when you weren’t quite ready. Sometimes when that happens, your brain tries to protect you from perceived threats by dissociating. It makes thinking straight really difficult.”
You frown.
“How did I… How’d I get home?”
He strokes your hair.
“The parts of your brain responsible for procedural memory aren’t as impacted during episodes of dissociation. But it’s actually not uncommon for people who don’t have PTSD to forget their commutes. It’s called highway hypnosis.”
“I don’t… I don’t have PTSD,” you insist. When Spencer doesn’t answer for a long moment, only continues stroking your hair, you swallow.
“We don’t have to talk about this right now, angel.”
“Okay,” you whisper, like a child too weary to argue. He kisses your head.
“It might be good for you to take a nap,” Spencer says, like he can read your mind. “I bet you’re tired.”
“How’d you know?”
“Because I know everything,” he says simply—a line borrowed from you. “Here’s what we’re gonna do, okay? I’m gonna order from Tandoori, and you’ll fall asleep, and I’ll wake you up when it’s time to eat, and we can watch your show.”
You smile despite yourself.
“So assertive.”
“I’m thinking I can get away with it right now.”
He’s only teasing. You cuddle closer. He holds you tighter.
“I’m the boss. And I want Thai food.”
“There she is,” he murmurs, rubbing your back over the blanket. The warm saccharine sweetness of his tone dizzies you, muddles your mind more pleasantly this time. Your heart rate slows. Your breathing goes back on autopilot. The rise and fall of his chest rocks you like the sea. Just at the cusp of sleep, he whispers one more promise. Of safety. Of love.
When you wake up, you’ve forgotten all about it.
But there's pad Thai on the table, and the kitchen is devoid of blood or broken glass.
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Kinktober Day 8 - Cockwarming
Ghost x Soap x F!Reader - 1.6k
summary: Ghost keeps you on his lap while he watches a soccer game. (You POV)
cw: dom!ghost, subby soap & reader, cock warming, cunnilingus, overstimulation
“Simon,” you whine, sweat-slick back arching against his front as you strain for any sensation at all. “Please.”
“Hush,” he scolds, tweaking a stiff nipple and taking a swig of his beer. “‘M tryin’ to watch the game.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and try to take a deep breath, only to hiccup through the exhale when the cock impaling you shifts as Ghost spreads his thighs.
You’ve been here for what feels like hours, but you know it’s only been about forty minutes, the steadily ticking clock at the top of the TV screen tells you just how slowly time passes when Simon holds you on his lap like this.
Only five more minutes, you tell yourself, hopeful that he’ll fuck you at the halftime break, or at the very least let you have an orgasm.
You feel more than hear him grunt behind you when you clench your inner walls around his length, your own eyes rolling back in your head at the overwhelming fullness.
There’s a low whine from only a few feet away, and your eyes are unconsciously drawn over to where Johnny is kneeling beside the coffee table, naked and damp with sweat despite the fact that he’s been holding himself still just as long as you have, only without the cock inside of him.
Simon huffs, hooking his chin over your shoulder and leaning forward enough to see Johnny and – you assume, from the way Johnny shrinks a bit – glare him into further submission. “Quiet,” he stresses, irritated. “You’re distractin’ me.”
“But sir,” Johnny pushes, leaning closer with his hands clenched tight on his knees, knuckles white from pressure. “She looks so pretty, I need her so bad, please–”
Ghost doesn’t bother using his words, only grunts a harsh sound that has Johnny settling back onto his heels, looking properly chastised even as his flushed cock kicks against his stomach. You can’t help but moan as Ghost settles back again, every shift of him inside of you agonizing.
One large hand rests against your stomach for the next few minutes, the callouses on Simon’s fingertips rough against your hypersensitive skin. He kneads your tummy mindlessly, pushing and pulling as he sips from his beer and grunts disapprovingly at the way his team plays. The repetitive motion calms you just enough that you can get a deep breath in, but nothing can distract you from the throbbing in your clit.
It feels like another eternity has passed when the players all file off the field, the camera cutting away to commercial as the halftime break starts. You try to temper your enthusiasm as much as you can, but your heart races when you hear the sound of Simon setting his bottle on the coaster.
“Alright,” he finally says, and it’s all you can do to keep from wriggling on his lap as he shifts to hold you more firmly in place. “Here, pup.”
Johnny practically throws himself forward, knees thudding loudly on the hardwood floor as he shoves himself between Ghost’s thighs, hands resting on your knees where they’re spread by Simon’s.
Simon is quick to wrap his fingers in Johnny’s mohawk, holding him back from shoving himself face-first into the slick dripping steadily from you, and ignoring the heartbroken whine that ensues.
“You gonna settle if I let you have a taste of the girl?” He grunts, shaking Johnny just a bit by the hair. You’re mesmerized by the way Johnny’s eyes cross, lashes damp and cheeks flushed as he pants beneath you. “Gonna start behavin’?”
“Yes, yes,” Johnny insists, nodding as much as he can. “Promise, sir, I can be good.”
Ghost snorts and scratches across Soap’s scalp, clearly disbelieving. “You better hope you can, otherwise you’re not gettin’ that pathetic thing between your legs anywhere near the girl until you prove you can behave yourself.”
You can’t tell if Johnny’s moan is heartbroken or horny when you nearly drown him out with your own cry at the cruel words.
“I’ll be good,” Johnny insists, grip so tight on your knees that you’d worry he’d yank you out of your position if you were being held by anyone but Ghost. “Please, Lt, let me be good?”
“Hmm.” Ghost strokes over your belly and Soap’s hair at the same pace, careful to keep a firm enough grip that Johnny can’t move much more than he’s allowed. “Alright. You have ‘til the game’s back on.”
Before he can even finish his sentence, Johnny’s mouth is pressed against your cunt.
You cry out at the sharp burst of pleasure, at the relief of finally having something touching where you’re most sensitive, only to quickly melt into nothing but mewls and moans as you become overwhelmed.
Johnny sucks your clit so hard that it’s almost painful, driving you to dig your nails into his scalp as you hold on for dear life. Simon wraps his arm fully around your waist, left hand holding your right hip tightly and his right hand keeping you open for Johnny no matter how much you struggle.
Your gasps are ripped from your chest as Johnny messily licks your cunt, Ghost’s chest rumbling against your back as he’s stroked by Soap’s tongue too. The sheer amount of sensation after so long with nothing almost blinds you, your entire world shrunk down to what can fit inside of you and what can rub against your clit in just the right way.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” you gasp at a particularly rough suck of your clit. If you weren’t so mindless with pleasure you’d worry about just how hard your nails are scratching along his scalp, but the way he moans into your body wipes any hope of worry from your mind. “Johnny!”
“He treatin’ you well?” Ghost rumbles, pressing against your stomach. Any words you’d want to give him are stolen by the way he makes himself feel just that much larger inside of you, your hole so wet that you’re sure there’ll be a stain when you’re finally allowed to stand.
“Mhm, mhm,” you hum, the only answer you can manage when Soap has taken to seemingly trying to suck the base of Ghost’s cock, only managing to lick around your hole instead. “So good,” you slur.
“Sounds like it,” Ghost says, his patronizing amusement flying over your head as Johnny gives up on Simon’s cock and returns his full attention to your clit.
Your moans are driven higher and higher as you’re pushed closer to your long-awaited orgasm, your voice cracking as your feet kick helplessly against the couch, held firmly by Ghost. You couldn’t open your eyes if you tried, fingers digging deep gouges into Johnny’s hair and Simon’s forearm as you’re shoved towards your peak at a ruthless pace.
You practically scream when Johnny just barely presses his teeth to your bundle of nerves, tongue lashing against you and throwing you off the cliff of release you’d been waiting on for so long.
Ghost moans in sync with you as you milk his cock, squeezing him so tightly that it almost hurts you, hole stinging around his girth despite the juices coating all three of you. He doesn’t come, but the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you as your body does its best to coax cum from his nearly sends you spinning into a second orgasm.
Johnny’s mouth doesn’t let up, even as your hold on him relaxes and your body goes limp against Simon. He only continues to lick at your clit, then around your pussy and trying to suck your lips into his mouth, licking you with a fervor that feels almost manic.
“Johnny!” You gasp when he gives you just a momentary break, only to bite your thigh sharply enough that you jerk a few inches off of Ghost’s cock.
“Down,” Simon snaps, shoving Johnny away from you with enough force to nearly send him sprawling. Johnny catches himself on the couch though, looking up at both of you with tears in his eyes and a cock that looks like it could cut diamond.
You coo a little, hand shaky as you reach out to cup the cheek Simon shoved. Ghost only scoffs over your shoulder, yanking you firmly back down so he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and nearly purring at your yelp.
“Watch the teeth, mutt,” Ghost scolds as Johnny settles back between your thighs, pressing kisses to your soft skin as an apology. “Unless you want me to muzzle you again.”
“No!” Johnny yelps, wrapping an arm around your thigh and pressing himself as close as possible. “‘M sorry, sir, I didnae mean it, promise. I willnae do it again, swear.”
Ghost makes a low sound in his chest that sounds suspicious, but doesn’t push Johnny away or tell him off again. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he finally says, pushing a strand of hair back into place on Soap’s forehead. “Game’s not back for another ten minutes, you want to keep having fun with the girl or go back to your corner?”
“Wait–” you try to protest, but your voice is cut off when Johnny latches himself to your clit once again, sucking the oversensitive bundle like you aren’t still shaking from your last orgasm. You squeal at the pleasure-pain, body tense like a bowstring. “Please!”
“There you go,” Ghost purrs, resting his chin on your shoulder and squeezing your hip as your cunt spasms around him. “Attaboy, Johnny.”
Your brain practically melts out of your ears before you can string together enough words to beg for even a five minute break, but you can’t find it in yourself to be upset as Johnny practically catapults you towards another orgasm.
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