#but they want to get into every body of water

[thef1diary]

after the visit of the paranormal investigators max was even more cheeky. he wanted you to figure out a way so he can directly communicate with you so he was behaving like a cat, knocking over your water bottle, stealing your hair ties from the night stand and scratching on the door when it was closed. he wanted your attention and to talk to you, properly. to finally whisper all the sweet nothings when you're busy working or trying to get chores done...😵‍💫

🩵

— oh he’d make you feel as though he’s everywhere, always touching you, always reminding you of his presence. After he got a taste of communicating with you, he wants more. 18+ content below

It started after the investigators left—Max had become relentless. At first, it was playful: your water bottle tipping off the counter just as you reached for it, your hair ties mysteriously disappearing from the nightstand. He messed with you and most of the time you chuckled, trying to tell him off. But then, he had also turned up the dial on the filthier antics—constantly touching you.

The warm press of phantom fingers trailed across your inner thighs when you sat at your desk to work. Ghostly hands slid beneath your shirt while you tried to complete mundane daily tasks. Washing dishes became a challenge when you’d feel his touch slither between your legs, stroking over your bare cunt just to watch you squirm.

He didn’t let up when you tried to ignore him, either. Every time you clenched your thighs together, his touch grew firmer, hungrier.

Even during the night, he didn’t hold back. You jolted awake to the sensation of your blanket being peeled away, the cool air kissing your skin. His hands skimming up your legs as you felt his presence curling around you.

You gasped, clawing at the sheets as his invisible grip spread your thighs wide. He wasn’t gentle anymore; his touch was demanding, confident, and dripping with intent. His hands roamed over your body like he owned it, teasing every curve, every sensitive spot. When his fingers circled your nipple, pinching just enough to make your breath hitch, you swore if you strained your hearing, you could hear a low, guttural groan echo in the silence of your bedroom.

It was as though Max was everywhere, teasing you, urging you to acknowledge him.

You could feel his frustration building, the way he pressed against you, almost begging to be heard. You wanted it, too. God, you wanted it so badly—his voice murmuring dirty promises into your ear, telling you exactly what he’d do instead of simply touching you.

One afternoon, as you braced yourself against the kitchen counter, your breath hitching from the sensation of his hands sliding under your waistband, you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. Max wasn’t going to stop until you found another way to communicate with him.

Panting, you pushed yourself up, your knees weak as you muttered air, hoping he was listening. “Alright, fine, Max. You win.” You’d find a way to let him talk to you—really talk to you. If that meant buying a spirit box or some other ridiculous gadget, so be it.

And you’d do it immediately, because the next time his hands slipped between your legs, teasing you to the brink, you wanted to hear every filthy thing he’d whisper while you came undone.

want more ghost!max? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[enchantress-arc]

I recently learned that a particular sub of mine still had some conditioning from a while back that hadn't been used in quite a while, specifically that she had a bit of a tendency to become incredibly dazed and begin dropping into trance when presented with a cock (though, talking to her afterwards, she doesn't think that this conditioning would activate for most people). I learned this through a tiny bit of teasing on a call, when she saw my wonderful Bitchbreaker through the shorts I was wearing, her eyes rolled back and her tongue came out. Learning that on its own was very interesting. More interesting was just how effective this conditioning was, just how deeply she dropped from such a small tease, from only seeing it through my clothing. Naturally, seeing the effect that already existing conditioning had on her was quite a "blood in the water" moment for me, and, with her permission, I continued. After teasing her a bit more by showing off, it became incredibly clear that she was very, very suggestible in this state. I took my fingers, made a circle, and told her that however far down those fingers were on my girlcock, that's exactly how much she'd feel thrusting into her mouth. With her eyes rolling back and her tongue out, she took that cock like a wonderful, adorable little slut, so much passion and energy pouring into this imaginary girlcock fucking her face over and over and over. When it leaked and I told her to lap it up, she did, she was so empty, so mindless, so focused on serving this perfect Bitchbreaker, and I decided to have a bit of fun, to break my pathetic bitch a little more. I made her choke on it, put the whole thing down her throat as roughly as I could over and over, watched her drop even deeper with every single thrust, and reinforced this particular little piece of conditioning, just a bit, making it stronger, making it apply to my tits as well, making it easier to activate, even if she just saw me playing with either through my clothes she'd begin to feel the effects. Watching her empty little head take all of that new conditioning in with so little resistance as she kept mindlessly serving was absolutely wonderful. And of course, I couldn't just leave things there. I had her listen to me. I told her that, if she did a good job, if I finished in her mouth, she'd simply fall asleep. She'll get a nice little taste of Mistress, of her sweet, irresistible girlcum, and then she'll sleep for me. And she did such a good job, following along, listening, and when I finished, I simply told her to sleep for me. Her tongue twitched, lapping it up just as she had done earlier, and she collapsed onto her bed. I ended up staying in this call with her for a bit after that, just staying nearby, whispering little affirmations, until I was sure she was properly asleep rather than just in trance. Afterwards I left the call, left her a message telling her I hope she had enjoyed herself, and about an hour and a half later, I received a message from her saying that she had woken up covered in drool, and that her memory of what had happened was fuzzy at best, (which is rather interesting because I had never given her any commands related to memory during this, but regardless, it was incredibly cute). I'll admit I haven't done sessions that intense, that explicitly sexual (and especially focused on my own body) very often, but it was very, very fun. Seeing her eyes rolled back for that long, her drooling and sucking on a part that wasn't even really there with so much passion, it was wonderful, and I need to do something similar to her in the future, because the look that adorable, pathetic bitch had on her face made me want nothing other than to find ways to break her in even more.

[s-awturn]

Daddy's Wishes || F1 Dilfs

cw: obscenity, age gap, swearing, suggestive content, mention of cute kids, a little possessiveness, p in v, eating p-, brat behavior, choking, dry humping, and a little more smut.

a/n: I'm dusting off the dust that has accumulated on my profile this all time. I had an open request, but it got lost while I was writing (bad time to update, Tumblr, but I will rewrite it, don't panic).

starring: Toto Wolff, Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Jenson Button, Mark Webber, Kimi Raikkonen.

TOTO WOLFF:

He was filthy, dirty as fuck, but he couldn't stop the dirty thoughts every time he saw Jack's lovely teacher when he went to pick his son up from school. Y/N was sweet, kind, and damn, so hot. Toto couldn't help but imagine her pretty — and lip-glossy — mouth wrapped around his cock as he fucked her throat, he wanted so much to see those beautiful eyes watering with each strong thrust into her mouth.

How many handjobs has he had since he met the young teacher? He lost count.

Jack always finished last, Toto was late almost every time, and the boy helped Y/N organize the room — not that the boy was looking forward to getting another chocolate chip cookie as a reward. And that was a huge benefit for Toto, after all he had all her attention for himself, he knew that since Y/N started working at the school, the number of parents at school meetings and at the school gate increased considerably. All to see the young teacher in her summer dresses and ribbon in her hair.

And it was with the satin of her bow that Toto tied her wrists while he thrust deeper and deeper into her pussy, listening to the needy and sweet moans of the young teacher. Wolff gripped her thighs tightly, leaving his fingerprints on the soft skin, just as he had done with his teeth; her marks would be exposed to anyone when Y/N wore one of her summer dresses, everyone would know she belonged to him.

“So sweet, baby,” he said, trailing kisses down the curve of her breasts, loving how she whimpered even more. “Taking me in so well, my pretty little girl, fuck.”

“T-Toto!” she exclaimed, grabbing the tape around her wrists, trying to get something to hold on to. Her teary eyes rolled back in their sockets. “Please, p-please, Toto!” he begged.

He nibbled on her chin, bringing his thumb to the teacher's swollen clit, making her whimper even more, grinding on Toto's cock eagerly. "What do you want, prinzessin?”

And to tease, Toto slowed down his pace, making sure Y/N could feel every inch going in and out of her, every pulsing vein of his cock.

Her tears finally subsided “L-Let me c-cum... P-Please” Y/N licked her dry lips, pushing her hips against Toto, loving the way he filled her completely.

“Good girl” and with that, he moved away a little to put her legs over his shoulders, feeling himself deeper and deeper inside her, growling each time the soft walls clenched around his cock in pure ecstasy. Y/N licked her dry lips, tightening her grip around Toto, feeling the orgasm tighten her belly and make the hairs all over her body stand on end. “That’s right, love... Cum for me, hmm? Just the way you like it...” he bit her calf.

“It-It’s too much, T-Toto!” she said between moans. “Too much!”

“You can handle it, baby, cum for me”

And like an explosion, her voice was lost in a moan and she came, contracting harder around Toto, bringing him to his own orgasm as well.

“All mine, only mine,” he said, groaning hoarsely as he thrust slowly against her, prolonging even more the sensation of pleasure that was fading through both of their bodies.

He released her wrists, massaging the scarred skin, trying to keep her from feeling the pain. She sighed in pain and he kissed the irritated skin.

“Shh, it’s okay love, I’ll take care of you.. you can rest, baby.” He kissed her forehead, carrying her to the bathroom.

SEBASTIAN VETTEL:

Upon retirement, all he wanted was some peace and quiet in a small, hidden town in the German countryside; with no more worries than taking care of his bees, feed some chickens and make sure no broken tiles fell on her young neighbor's head.

If there was one thing Sebastian wasn't expecting when he moved to the country, it was a clumsy, completely unfiltered twenty-something girl to fill his days. The first time they met, Y/N was on top of a tractor older than time, wearing a Mercedes cap (which he found heresy, so what if he was German himself? It was still heresy!). Y/N waved at him, and Sebastian was grateful that she didn't act like a groupie, he loved his fans, however, the more anonymous he was, the better. That same night, Y/N brought him a basket of strawberries, along with a beautiful smile.

It wasn't long before they became friends and Sebastian was patching things up in her house, a leaky roof, a loose wooden board, a dripping faucet... And Y/N thanked them with food from her homeland and drinks of dubious character and questionable appearance.

“You look good for someone your age, Seb,” she said between glasses of wine. She wasn’t drunk, but she was far from completely sober either.

“What are you insinuating, Puppe?” he asked, trying to stop her from refilling his glass, but Y/N was a stubborn little thing.

“For an old man your age, you look really good,” she said, she really said. Sebastian accepted that she was a Mercedes fan, accepted that she always took one of his beers, or that she loved to say that German football died after 2014. But that was too much. Maybe it was the wine, or the desire he spent weeks (very fucked up ones, by the way) internalizing because he didn't want Y/N to think he was a pervert.

But apparently it was time for him to teach that petulant brat some manners.

And that's how Y/N had her neck wrapped around the pilot's firm hand and her sports shorts were rolled up around her ankles while Sebastian distributed burning slaps on her ass and pussy.

She writhed between moans, pleas and sobs. She couldn't tell if she wanted him to stop, to fuck her or to keep going, for God's sake, she was drooling so shamefully.

“I fucking dare you! Say it again,” he growled, thrusting two fingers into her, enjoying her tightness around his fingers. “Where’s your nerve, brat?”

“Seb, fuck-!” she stuttered, digging her nails into his thighs, a husky moan escaping her as she felt his thumb slide across her clit. “Sorry, sorry!”

“Sorry for what?” he knocked again, loving to hear her little moans.

“For saying you’re old!” she cried, trying to push her hips against his hand, but Sebastian held her back. “Even if it’s the damn truth!”

“Fucking girl, I think we need to keep that smart mouth busy,” and with that, Sebastian made her kneel in front of him and unzipped her. “Open your mouth, pretty girl”

FERNANDO ALONSO:

Y/N was Lawrence's niece and was in her final year of mechanical engineering at MIT, the girl was a genius and was slowly gaining her space within Aston Martin. Her stunning beauty was just a bonus. Y/N dedicated all her vacation days inside the team's garage, adjusting improvements with the team, checking the cars for defects or just being a girl passionate about Formula One. Fernando loved it when she would invade his office and ask him to tell her about the golden age of racing, or how she was the villain of absolutely every driver in the category; Y/N heard the same stories over and over and acted the same way every time: with fucking enthusiasm.

He nicknamed her the Keychain, since Y/N was always hanging from his flap — and he was far from complaining.

He knew, the guys envied him.

Okay, he was Fernando Fucking Alonso, but what the hell had a girl twenty years younger seen in him?

The answer was quite simple, to tell the truth.

“You need to be quiet, dulzura" He said, resting his index finger on her lips, as he slid his glans through the girl's soaked folds. "We don't want to get caught, do we?"

She shook her head, rolling her tongue around his finger, making Fernando grunt. Who would have thought that behind that nerdy face, full of technical jargon, there was a mind full of mischief?

“I’ll be quiet, Nano” and with that, she sucked her index finger “I promise”

“Muy bien, tesoro” He said and thrust himself into her, being greeted by the wet, tight heat of her pussy. Y/N whimpered, pushing herself against him. "Holy crap, bebé” The Spaniard grunted, “You’re still so fucking tight, love,” and he pressed his fingers into her hips, keeping her in place with each thrust.

“F-Fucking good, mhmm my God” she bit the back of her hand, stopping herself from moaning.

"Qué chica tan hermosa para mí..." (such a pretty girl for me) he moaned, capturing her lips in a dirty kiss, without stopping to hit his hips against hers, without stopping to hit the head of his cock in a delicate spot inside her, making the girl tremble with pure pleasure “I'm going to fuck you every day, until your beautiful pussy is shaped like my dick”

“Yes, yes, yes Nano” Y/N whispered with a lost mind “please”

“Todo para mi chica perfecta”

JENSON BUTTON:

He hated her, that's all.

Jenson wasn't one for harboring bad feelings about people, but Y/N, the new FOX Sports journalist, managed to bring out the worst in him. She was a shrew, horrible, irritating, and beautiful like nothing else could be. And this last fact increased Jenson's resentment towards her even more.

Because for him, it was unacceptable that someone as beautiful as her could be as bad as the serpent of Eden. The devil really is in the details, he assumed.

He had a good race, he got the highest place on the podium, even though the car left something to be desired in the first and second sectors. Jenson pushed the car beyond the limit and managed to win, it was commendable, but he knew that this wouldn't impress Y/N's untamed little vixen. Oh God, he really hated her, while Y/N took real pleasure in making him mad. A witch, indeed.

The interview was full of discreet barbs and disguised insults, pushing the journalist and pilot to the limit of their patience.

Jenson pushed her against the warm wall of a random motorhome, he didn't care which team it was, he wanted to make that little journalist swallow every insult. In any way.

He gritted his teeth, he wanted to say something, to provoke her anger too, but the bitch was good at what she did and damn, he had never received such a good blowjob.

Y/N tightened her throat around him, making Jenson moan muffledly and push her head further, suffocating her with his cock, Y/N's makeup was smeared, There were burgundy lipstick stains on his groin and her hair was a mess. The pilot took a deep breath and in a hoarse voice, provoked the journalist.

“Looks like that’s the only way to get you to shut up, witch.”

Y/N pulled away from his cock, breathing heavily as she licked her lips, swallowing every drop of his taste.

“You’re the one who’s weak and hasn’t found another way” he gave a cynical smile, which hit him right in the face “but don’t worry, Button, this way is without a doubt, my favorite” and with that said, she pressed a kiss to the fat, red glans, moaning at Jenson's sigh.

“Fucking brat”

“Bitch,” she said and went back to swallowing every inch of Jenson’s huge erection. He still hated her, but much less now.

MARK WEBBER:

He was fucked in every way, and beyond repair. Sebastian would stick a rusty knife in his liver if he knew, well, if he knew, of course. Y/N Vettel was the devil, sent specifically to get Mark into trouble. For a long time — with a lot of effort — Mark managed to keep his hands off his teammate's sister.

But as said before, Y/N was the devil and thought Mark should be in a more interesting place: her bed.

He spent years pretending not to see her intentions, especially since she was still a teenager with fetishes about her brother's friend, and Mark would never get involved with a teenager. But Y/N grew up, maturity came like a punch, for the pilot at least, she was no longer a little girl with braces and a frilly skirt. She had become a beautiful woman and looked like a lioness on the hunt.

Mark was her prey.

“You know what’s going to happen here, little Vettel,” he said, trying to avoid dirty thoughts about his friend’s sister, trying to see the little girl who was still tongue-tied and stuttering in front of him. Y/N smiled, when did that pimply girl become such a hottie? Mark could barely think, especially as his eyes traced the soft curve of her neck and chest.

Shit, he was so fucked up.

But if you were already in hell, then dance with the devil. He held her neck as he held her in place, Y/N moaned loudly, pushing her ass up against him even more, Mark grunted hoarsely with each squeeze she gave his cock, Y/N looked over her shoulder at him, smiling through her tears of lust.

“H-Harder, please,” she whimpered, grinding against him and moaning loudly at the slap that slapped her ass. He slowed down on purpose “M-Mark, fuck.”

He pulled her until she was on her knees, with her back resting on his chest and nibbled on the back of her neck “Dirty girl, what would your brother say if he saw you moaning like that on my cock?”

Y/N whimpered, he was moving in and out so slowly that she could feel the swollen veins on his erection, or the bulbous tip stretching her. His slowness was desperate, but so, so good that she wanted to stay there forever.

He cursed his own slowness, Y/N squeezing him like a fist, taking everything in him not to cum like a stupid virgin. Mark sped up his thrusts, loving Y/N's relieved moans and let the girl fall back onto the bed, with her ass in the air and her face on the mattress.

That was the vision of heaven, damn it.

KIMI RAIKKONEN:

The context was simple: he had separated a few months ago and Y/N was the nanny for his children. Y/N was adorable and her kids loved her unconditionally, Kimi trusted her enough to travel for work for long days and keep the kids with her. At that point in the game, Y/N wasn't just the nanny, she was already part of the family; she had her own room in every house Kimi owned, traveled with the pilot and his children — even when he didn't need to — and enjoyed many other privileges that other employees didn't have.

Kimi couldn't say exactly when he started to notice Y/N differently, maybe it was the neediness, since he had been alone for almost a year. Maybe it was the way she kept saying ‘Mr. Raikkonen’ even when he insisted on ending the formalities. Kimi was being hypocritical, he knew exactly when his little obsession with his children's nanny began.

He was returning from a business trip, he could have retired from racing, but he hated being idle. It was the middle of the night and the house was silent except for the soft sound of a cell phone ringing upstairs — Y/N's room was on the main floor, so the girl had full access to the children. Kimi went upstairs, listening to the melancholic beat of Lana Del Rey, he hated indie music, but he had memorized a large part of the singer's repertoire because of Y/N. The door was open and he saw in the reflection of the mirror, Y/N wearing nothing but silk pajamas as she spread moisturizer on her skin; Kimi was a visual man, few things were more attractive than a woman spreading moisturizer on her body.

He didn't want Y/N to catch him spying, much less for her to pull him into the room and lock the door. Nor did she kiss him, in a shy way, until Kimi realized what was happening and finally reacted, grabbing her body as if Y/N was going to disappear at any moment, he kissed her furiously, with a desire he didn't even know existed. He kissed her until he lost his way and ended up ripping her delicate pajamas, dropping the fragile silk on the floor.

She gripped the bedclothes, arching her body as she felt her strength drain away with each time his tongue hit her clit. She tried to stop, tried to push him away, but Kimi grabbed her hips, wanting her to keep grinding her pussy against his mouth.

“Sr. R-Raikkonen” Y/N gasped, her voice trailing off into a moan, she whimpered as Kimi's tongue pressed against the swollen, sensitive bud. She would cum in a few seconds, she had no more strength, the knot in her stomach was tightening more and more. Kimi didn't seem satisfied with having made her cum in a few minutes. He wanted more.

Y/N's moans mixed with the melody of Diet Mountain Dew, creating an erotic, intimate and secret atmosphere.

“Don’t stop, nukke,” he ordered, moving as little away from her as possible, making Y/N shiver with the hot air that escaped his mouth. “Keep fucking my face, kaunis" (pretty)

“I-I can’t take it any m-anymore, Mr. Raikkonen,” she stammered weakly, her hips moving to Kimi’s will. “P-Ple-” her body gave in to yet another violent orgasm, to the point of taking away her remaining strength and knocking her to the ground. Gently, Kimi laid her down on the carpet, letting her calm down and recover.

“Are you tired, nukke?” Kimi asked as she took off his clothes, gazing at Y/N's appreciative gaze on her body, she was lying on her stomach, panting, full and shiny with sweat, a fucking sight.

“Not at all, Mr. Raikkonen,” she said in a low tone.

“Keep calling me Mr. Raikkonen and we’ll take this here until you have mercy, kaunis”

“I thought you’d never get the hint, Mr. Raikkonen,” she says, swaying her hips provocatively.

“Naughty,” he snapped, smacking the side of her ass with a stinging smack.

gif credits: lewisthot, pierregasly, suzuki-ecstar, machinecreature, its-avalon-08, blueballsracing.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.

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[robo-writing]

hihi friend <3333 requesting something a little more different bc as someone who loves a good breeding kink (in form of dirty talk and dirty talk only!!) i still do not EVER want kids and cannot fathom the whole birth process. can i ask for what logan’s reaction would be a reader who doesn’t want kids?

maybe they’re not that established in their relationship and they’re fooling around (awink) and when logan brings out the breeding talk she just kinda panics and pushes him off/uses her safe word because she does NOT want kids

like i said kinda different but ur one of my fav logan writers and i can’t find anything like this so i wanted to request it 🫠 🫶🏼

As someone who also doesn’t want kids but has a massive breeding kink, real. (Also FAVORITE???? EEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKK)

Logan with an s/o who doesn’t want kids!

✦ To be entirely honest, Logan never thought of himself as a fatherly type, hell, he never thought of himself even staying in a relationship long enough to even have kids.

✦ You however, are the exception.

✦ He can see himself growing old for once, more importantly, he can see himself growing old with you.

✦ So is it surprising that somewhere along the line instead of just you and him, he started imagining a kid hanging off you too?

✦ He wouldn’t even know how to bring it up, and he’s still of the belief that he’d be a god awful father

✦ But if you’d have him, he’d try his damndest to be the best father a kids ever gonna have

✦ He doesn’t tell you that he’s even thought of having a kid, too afraid to bring it up in case you get scared

✦ But one night it accidentally slips out while he’s got you pinned under him

✦ It really was an accident, you just sounded so good and you were squeezing his cock just perfectly—

✦ Something inside him snaps, tears it’s way to the forefront of his mind, eyes fixated where his cock almost bulges against your stomach—

✦ Right where you’d be carrying his kid

✦ He bows over you, practically covers you with his body, head bent and panting into your ear like a wild animal.

✦ He’s not totally aware of himself, almost as if he’s a spectator; he feels everything, maybe even too much.

✦ You’re scratching at his back, moaning his name so pretty, begging him for more, more, don’t stop, please—

✦ It was an accident when he holds you by the hips, growls in your ear—not gonna stop, not until I’ve put a kid in you.

✦ You’re always the most beautiful thing he’s laid eyes on but for that moment, when you locked your legs and begged him to breed you, you looked like Aphrodite herself. The way you milked him for all he’s worth, he’s not sure he’ll ever reach a high like that again.

✦ The next morning he wakes up beside you, a dopey smile on his face when he sees the evidence of your love-making on every inch of you.

✦ His hickeys, fresh and dark, painted across your neck, all the way to your collarbone.

✦ Quite simply, you look like you got attacked

✦ However, even better than those was the proof of his love, your cum-stained thighs, just slightly spread apart as you slept.

✦ He won’t lie, it took him more than a bit of self-control not to take you again after seeing that.

✦ Lucky for him, your eyes fluttered open before he could pursue that train of thought.

“G’mornin’” you groan, stretching your very sore body. When you feel the remnants of last nights affairs on your skin it’s as if a switch is flipped, the slight frown on your face, the hesitant look you give as you quickly waddle to the bathroom—he did something wrong, he just doesn’t know what yet.

He waits until after the waters stopped, giving you a peace offering in the form of his t-shirts. It overshadows you, but it’ll do.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks nervously. Logan’s never been good at talking much, but he tries his best when it comes to you.

“No, no,” you deny, but it’s written on your face. You can barely look at him, fiddling with the ends of his shirt.

“You sure? Because you ran out of bed like a bat out of hell.”

Again, you can’t seem to keep your eyes on him. “It’s not you per se, I mean…”

“Say it,” he insists. “I can handle it.”

A pause. “Did you mean what you said last night?”

Even the mention of last night makes his body tingle, the remains of each and every memory fresh in his mind. There’s a lop-sided smile on his face when he answers, lackadaisical even. “I said a LOT of things last night darling, you’re gonna have to be specific here.”

You bit your lips nervously. “What you said about being pregnant.”

Oh, he thinks, and now the shoes finally dropped. At the time you seemed enthusiastic, but looking at you now…you look scared out of your mind.

He’s quick to move closer, inviting you to sit beside him with a couple taps to the bed. The moment you do he’s got you in his arms, making sure he can feel you relax before he says a word.

“Darling, be honest with me, do you want to have kids?”

You tense in his hold, both dread and fear evident in your voice. “I don’t know? Maybe in the future?”

“Maybe ain’t an answer.” He says, stroking your hair. “No need to lie.”

You should’ve known Logan would see right through you. You shake your head with a sigh, unwilling to look at him in fear of the disappointment you’re certain is painted on his features.

“…Not really, no. But if you wanted them—“

“Stop, don’t finish that,” he sighs. “If you don’t want kids, then that’s it. No kids.”

Shock, relief, a flurry of emotions take hold of you when you pull away, staring him down for any hint of dishonesty. Your heart soars when you don’t find any.

“Are you sure? Because it didn’t seem that way last night,” you stutter, and he’s quick to soothe your worries.

A quick peck to your lips, and he makes himself crystal clear. “Listen to me, I’m not gonna force ya to do something you don’t wanna do. If you don’t want kids then there’s nothing to worry about, I’m not an asshole.”

Your eyes almost water, the weight of fear lifting off your shoulders as you weakly chuckle. “Y’know, the amount of times I’ve had this conversation—it always ends in a break up. This is…really refreshing, honestly.”

“You’ve been dating a bunch of assholes,” he taunts, kissing your temple. “Don’t worry though, you’ve got me.”

“And you’re not an asshole?” You chuckle, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Mhm,” he mumbles. “Not to you, at least.”

As he does so, he makes it a point to pull you closer, bury his face into your neck and inhale. “Even if you don’t want kids, I still get to breed ya, right?”

[no-144444]

in sickness- c.leclerc

summary: you get sicky...

pairing: charles leclerc x fem! reader

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When Charles had decided to go vacationing with his friends while you finished up your work before Christmas, he was not expecting what he saw when he came back. Every single blind in your apartment was down despite it being the middle of the day, the temperature was down from its regular 20 degrees, and you were nowhere to be found. 

He dropped his bags by the door and left his shoes on the rack, and he ventured further into the apartment. You weren’t in your office, nor your living room, nor your kitchen, so the last place was your bedroom. When he opened the door, he wasn’t exactly ready for what he saw. 

You, on your bed, looking sicker than ever, somehow asleep as you battled some sort of temperature. He put his hand to your forehead, and he almost pulled it right back off, you were so hot. He quickly grabbed a face cloth and ran it under cold water, then placed it on your head. He didn’t really know what else to do. You never really got sick, it was always him who was ill. 

He left you to sleep as he cleaned up the rest of your apartment. Not that it was messy, it was just not as clean as he knew you liked it, so he got to work. 

After about an hour of that, he decided he should make you soup or something, but then he remembered his abysmal cooking skills, and ordered food in, instead. 

When you resurfaced, you didn’t feel as shit as when you went to bed, which was a plus. The past 5 days had been this awful temperature, chesty cough, nausea, and full-body aches. You groaned as you got up, knowing you should probably start cleaning your apartment-

You questioned your own brain when you opened your door from your bedroom to see your entire living room clean. Had you done it and you just didn’t remember? Were you starting to forget things now? Is that a new symptom? You should probably go back to the doctor-

“My love,” he sighed, pulling you into a hug. 

“Charles?!” you questioned. 

“Hi darling,” he smiled, looking down at you. 

“I thought you were still in-”

“I came back early,” he explained. “What’s been wrong with you, mi beauté?”

You cracked a small smile. “I seriously doubt I look half-way beautiful right now.”

He shook his head. “You’re always beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes. “Cheesy,” you scoffed before letting go of him and walking to your kitchen. “I’ve just been sick, it’s not anything bad.”

He looked at you sceptically. “You’re sure?”

You nodded, taking out some of the soup. “Thank you for coming, but I really don’t want you to get this, so you should head to your apartment or something.” 

He frowned. “My own girlfriend kicking me out?”

You rolled your eyes again. “Your own girlfriend is looking out for your safety, I think you’ll find.”

He shook his head, sitting beside you on the couch. “I’m not leaving you. In sickness and in health.”

You sucked in a breath of air. “We’re not even engaged yet.”

He shrugged. “I plan on honouring that for the rest of my life, why not start now.” 

You grinned, resting your head against his shoulder on the couch as you started channel hopping. “You’re so sappy.”

He shrugged. He didn't mind anything you called him, once you still called him yours. 

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navigation for my blog :)

ferrari masterlist

[slvttyplum]

"an apprenticeship? really? he should be studying under you, why are you letting him do it." the tone in your voice changing causing naruto to turn around, his eyes furrowed as he walks over to you, leaning on the counter with his arms crossed, staring at you wash your hands in the sink.

"what's that supposed to mean?" your voices going quiet.

the silence was damning, you knew what you said and how you said it was wrong, but you were the only one who could talk to naruto in a way where you weren't coddling words, that's why he loved you.

"you gonna answer me or just say what you want without expecting a response?" naruto also said shit like you did, causing lots of arguing.

"excuse me?" quickly turning off the sink, and he could read your face like a book, his body stiffening and his blood running cold. he just couldn't let you have the last word, and he got into deep shit for it.

"you wanna do this now?" turning off the water and quickly wiping your hands off with the towel that hung beside you, wasting no time to mimic his position while looking at him, eyebrows furrowed and all.

"you know what? let's do it." his conscience telling him to back down now and not to cause any more drama, to just apologize and say that the both of you would talk about it in the morning, but his pride was just too damn big.

"alright, let's do it. one. you're never home, the only time you're home is when it's a life or death situation or for sex." naruto's mouth opening for a rebuttal but quickly closing back when you hold up your hand holding up two fingers.

"two. i have to do everything around this damn house including parenting, yet you don't want my advice on what your children should or shouldn't be doing." naruto once again opening his mouth trying to defend a case he hasn't even built yet, but you're a little too fast, adding a third finger to the mix.

"three. i'll go easy on you and let this be the last one." every time i critic sasuke, you're the first to defend him. this man made your life a living hell, the least you can do is not defend him every fucking time."

a few seconds of silence pass and naruto's face unclenches, his whole body does. a smile forming on his face as he turns towards you, leaning on the counter again.

"you know, i missed this." your face scrunching in confusing as you tuck your arms in again, you could always count on naruto to look like he just one a million dollars when getting degraded.

"are you fucking delusional? did you hear anything i just said?" naruto still smiling, walking towards you, his hand around your waist and his eyes tracing your face.

"i did, loud and clear, my love. i missed you putting me in my place, telling me how it is, because you're right." your mouth open with shock, narutos hands rubbing over your ass and a grin on his face, this was the first time in fifteen years he's said that you were right… fifteen years.

"i'll be better, i'll do better, starting with us. i won't let him do the apprenticeship, he'll study under me. hm?" his eyes now locked in on yours, the sincerity written all over his face, showing you that he was serious.

scoffing as your arms wrap around him, snuggling into his chest.

"finally got your fill of scolding?" naruto would be lying if he said he didn't get scolded every time he walked through the door, because he most definitely did.

before this, he didn't know when he would start being home consistently, being with you, helping around the house, helping his son.

he finally got the realization that there could be no more waiting, his family needed him now, he couldn't rely on his best friend to train his son, you put that into perspective for him, and he couldn't begin to thank you enough.

"i love you, im always listening when you think im not. let me be there for you." his hands rubbing back up to your waist, his arms squeezing around you, kissing the top of your head.

[aurorawhisperz]

I Just Wanna See You Shine (r.c.)

contains: smut (18+), swearing.

rafe cameron x overachiever!reader

summary: everyone counted on you to be the valedictorian, the go-to for tough subjects and the one who never got in trouble. one day, rafe cameron had came up to you for some tutoring but it turns out he was just paying for the pleasure of your company.

i just wanna see you shine ‘cause i know you are a stargirl.

if everybody was betting on valedictorian, everybody would be betting on you. you were the one person who had it all figured out; high grades, perfect attendance, a reputation for never stepping out of line.

no drama. no distractions. no boyfriend. you were the only person who actually cared about deadlines, assignments and getting into a good college even as a rich kid.

at kildare academy, no one really cared about what you did or didn’t do. everyone was rich, privileged, and used to getting what they wanted.

graduation wasn’t a huge deal; chances for success were handed to you with a silver spoon. the kooks had money, connections, and opportunities waiting for them at every turn. even if they flunked a test, they’d still get into the best colleges, all thanks to their families’ influence and wealth.

people didn’t expect much from your personal life, if anything, they just assumed you didn’t have one, too busy studying to bother with parties or boys. and even if you did, rafe cameron would be the last name anyone would think of.

he was everything you weren’t; wild, reckless, the kind of guy who didn’t care about grades or the future. he drove fast cars, lived life with no sense of direction. and you? you were the complete opposite.

right now, you’d find yourself breaking a rule you swore you’d never cross, all because of that stupid boy.

you knew he was up to no good the minute he slipped those silver glasses off of your face.

this was the tenth-ish guttural moan rafe had let out. his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he feels your walls squeezing around him. rafe was completely lost to the need, the primal desire for you. the one thing missing from his great list of achievements. his body strained with the effort to resist the urge to take you, to make you his.

rafe was completely at your mercy, completely undone, his body twitching with need as you moved your hips against him. his eyes were locked onto yours, his stare desperate and pleading, his voice a ragged whisper as he moaned your name over and over again, each repetition edged with a hint of desperation, as if he couldn’t stand to be without you for even a moment.

“why are you so fucking good at this?” he breathed out, a little surprised, but also impressed. his mouth hanging open with every movement.

“one terrible experience,” you replied matter-of-factly. “i didn’t bother with anyone else. i don’t waste time. i’m a fast learner, though. especially when it comes to… watching. visual things tend to stick.”

you never would’ve imagined that rafe cameron, the kook prince, the guy who practically owned kildare island, would be wrapped around your little finger. but somehow, he was.

his mouth watered as you leaned over him, your boobs hovering so close to his mouth. his hands clenching around the bedsheets, his body rigid as he waits for you to say something.

rafe swallowed hard, his breath coming in quick gasps, his entire body tense and straining with the effort to hold back. the effort to stop himself from rolling you both over and to stop himself from fucking you so dirty, but in this moment, rafe was completely under your control, and he knows it. he can't help but want you.

“you can touch me.” you held onto his shoulder for some sense of control as you continued rolling your hips. rafe let out a low, guttural moan as you gave him permission, his eyes closing briefly as he waited for you to descend closer. then he leaned upwards, taking your breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple as he suckles you, his hands moving to your hips, holding you in place.

rafe’s hips bucked up into you as he slid himself deeper, his voice a low, ragged moan. “you feel so good..” he gasps. “feel so damn good…i can’t get enough of you…fuck…”

“yeah?” your thumb moved to rub over his bottom lip. “can’t get enough of me?”

rafe’s hands grabbed at your hips, his touch nearly painful.

“we’re gonna do this again, and again, and again, darlin’,” he muttered, his voice low and rough as he thrusted up into you. “all” slap. “night.” slap. “long.” slap.

you pulled on your clothes, moving quietly as rafe laid there, worn out and more exhausted than you’d ever seen him. but that smile tugging at the creases of his lips—his smirk that you knew so well was still there. his voice broke the silence, his tone lazy, but with that familiar edge of smugness. “looks like i got something, or someone, to add to my collection,” he said, the words carrying a challenge, as though he was satisfied by the moment but still trying to hold some control.

as you reached for your shoes, he propped himself up on one elbow, his voice thick with that cocky tone as he started running his mouth again. “well, well, look at you. the overachiever, the one everybody thought was untouchable, sucked right into my world.” rafe let out a low chuckle and his eyes locked onto yours. "guess it fits the narrative. you were the only thing missing from the story.”

you stood up, slipping on your shoes but you couldn't help the grin that tugged at your lips even if his words punched your ego so badly.

moving closer, you leaned down slightly, lowering your voice to a seductive whisper. "if you tell anyone," you said, your words deliberate, "i’ll have to tell them about how you were so willing to submit and how you were shaking and almost crying under my control.”

without giving him a chance to say anything back, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips, a short one but it left a spark behind. you walked confidently to the door, not glancing back until you reached the threshold.

“see you around, kook prince,” you tossed your bag over your shoulder. rafe shifted, a devilish smirk lighting up his face, and replied with that trademark cockiness, “see you around, princess.”

[change-your-instinct]

You'd always wanted to be him. You followed his videos, drooling over his hairy body, wishing you had the same features. You'd watched bottom and imagine yourself behind him, taking advantage of him. There was something about the way his fur wrapped him, the tone of his musculature showing through his curls as his whole figure was thrust back and forth by the man inside him.

You loved to imagine how much more masculine you'd be if you looked like him, how much more dominating. How you'd make just as hairy men tremble and prostrate themselves for you. It wasn't just a thought, it was an obsession. It was enough that you managed to buy a hat and pair of shorts that teddy auctioned off.

You couldn't have been more happy when they arrived, quickly tearing open the box. The only other thing inside the container was a note. "To future Teddy Bear". You smiled, imagining his body as yours. You didn't realize just how soon you'd get your wish as you stripped and put the clothes on.

You quickly hopped into bed, your hand down your pants as you worked to get a hardon. You imagined his body, the thought of it bringing the heat of arousal to your surface. You imagined his perspiration engrained in the shorts seeping onto your skin, his scent getting on you. You worked longer than you were used to, breaking a sweat, but something was wrong. You weren't getting as hard as you usually would.

Your cock felt larger in your hands than you expected. You weren't sure if you just didn't have the right grip, but as you looked around you realized everything else seemed just slightly larger too. You finally had a chance to look down at your body, and you froze.

Every inch of your exposed skin was now hidden below a light brown carpet, tendrils reaching across your entire surface. You reached up to the cushiony fluff, feeling the prickle of body hair on your chest as your hand dug through it. You felt the moisture of sweat in your new coating, its scent releasing into the air as your fingers dragged through the fine fiber.

You gasped in realization, but there was little your mind could do to process it, gripped by the heightened arousal flooding through you. Your cock was still stiff yet unresponsive, but there was another sensation growing that you weren't familiar with. You felt it in the core of your groin. Your legs flexed to try to reach it, but it felt like you were treading water unable to hit it.

You rolled onto your knees, sticking your ass out and imagining it taking a thick cock right behind you. You'd never bottomed before, but you had no doubt that it was what you wanted. The idea was like a shaft driven straight into your head, taking up all the space in your thoughts. You set your phone on the side of your bed to snap a picture, your arousal overriding any sane ideas.

In moments the shot was your new profile picture, displaying your new body donning a backwards cap, your shorts pulled down to expose your round ass. The face in it was one you could easily recognize, one you so often imagined beneath you. That's where you imagined it tonight, underneath anyone who messaged you, an unrelenting nature to be used taking control of any thought you had.

There was no doubt in your mind. You needed to be used.

Good morning!☀️

[themeraldee]

First Time for Everything

[Masterlist]

18+ Only | 2.1k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Cunnilingus. Fingering. Overstimulation. Squirting. Literally just PWP.

Written for anon 💚

Homelander’s got you with your back flush to the bed, panting and twitching. He’s just finished a damn good job of licking and sucking your cunt through an orgasm, as always delivered without a hitch. You’re there thrashing around like a fish out of water but he’s got your hips pinned down and there’s not a chance in hell you could ever get out of his titanium hold.

With his head still buried in between your thighs he flattens his tongue over your quivering pussy, feeling every throb, pulse and twitch. Fuck, you feel good against his tongue. While most people he encounters quiver with fear, you quiver with mindless pleasure, the muscles in your thighs shaking around his head. The smell of you has him hungry for more as he laps over your weeping cunt a few more times, catching your clit at every swipe of his tongue. And you taste fucking divine. It was only appropriate for a god like him to be served the most exquisite pussy.

He moves his hand up, pressing down on your pubic area to hold you while his other, now free, hand squeezes his shaft through the soft padding of his pants. It’s not really enough, not enough at all. Especially compared to the delicious squeeze of your cunt he recently got so used to. He pulls back to watch as it uselessly squeezes around nothing, begging for his cock and his cock only. 

All in due time. If he stuffed you full now, the fresh tight, orgasm-powered squeeze of your slick walls would have him spilling in no time. You truly were lucky to have him. Nobody else could be so attuned to your needy body’s reactions. Nobody else could see your inner walls pulsate and throb, still coated in your delicious sticky sap.

Just as your orgasm eases off, you lift yourself up slowly to your elbows, then to an almost sitting position, supported by your hands. But Homelander isn’t ready to give up the control he has over your convulsing body. So instead he stops squeezing his cock and he pushes you down on your back again.

“Nope, you stay down. I’m not done with you yet.” His tone was innocently cheerful but his grin didn’t hide the depravity of his thoughts. Oh the thoughts running through his head on just how many ways he can ruin you. Just how many orgasms can he give you before you pass out? Have you ever come without getting your now poor and overstimulated clit played with? He should find out. Fucking into your cunt at every angle imaginable, from either side, front and back, upside down; he could do it all—effortlessly. And when your pussy is raw and aching? Well then he’ll have a little play around with your cute ass. Have you ever had your asshole fingered? Of course not, you were too sweet for that. 

Now that you’re his he’s gonna have to work hard to screw that sweetness out of you until he’s left with an unabashedly begging mess that he knows is hiding in you. His cock throbs at the idea. The idea of corrupting you to your filthy core is a tempting one.

He wants—no, needs—you to know that there’s never gonna be anyone that can make you feel like this.

Now that you’re on your back again without much protesting, he peels his gloves off. He thought about stretching your cunt around the soft leather of his glove but the temptation to feel your throbbing flesh around his bare digits was too strong to overcome. 

He places his left palm flat on your pubic area, pressing down a little. Looking up he meets your eyes and with another shark-like dazzling grin he asks. “Comfortable?”

You give a cutesy little nod, biting your lip. How dare you look so cute. Other vermin usually tremble in fear anytime he’s close to getting his hands on them whether it be with good intentions or not, yet there you are with his palm pressing down on you and all it does is send a thrill up your spine. The same palm that is capable of very easily crushing the bones in your pelvis is currently splayed out tapping each finger in succession against your skin.

You give your hips a wiggle just to show him how comfortable you are with barely being able to move.

“Good.” He smiles at you, his heart skipping a beat at the joy and excitement that is pouring out of you. You really fucking love him. Feeling overwhelmed by that ballooning emotion he looks down instead focusing his thoughts on your pussy. She’s eagerly waiting for him, so really it’d be rude of him to take any longer.

His pointer and middle finger slide from the top of your slit all the way down. Immediately coated in the sticky goodness your cunt can’t seem to stop producing around him. His slicked fingers go up to your clit, spread in a V shape, now catching your clit where they meet. You give him a few little squeaks each time he gives your clit another teasing bump. How you appear so apple pie sweet even when he’s got his fingers and lips soaked in your juices never ceases to amaze him.

His fingers finally make it down to your hole. It’s pulsating right in front of his fingers, opening up and just trying to slurp him in. It’s a miracle he hasn’t shoved his cock in there yet today. He licks his lips, the taste of you a reminder of good times while the tips of his fingers slide in.

He parts his lips, eyebrows furrowed as he watches your flesh eagerly slick his way through. He lets out a short cut-off gasp as he turns his fingers upside down with his palm now facing up while still inside you. And god is it fucking tight in there. He hasn’t had a chance to stretch you out yet. His cock throbs constantly now, his balls feel heavy, aching to unload inside you. Just feeling your cunt choke his fingers out makes him gasp. The memory of what it’s like to have you squeeze his hard shaft is indescribable, yet he feels it vividly around his fingers knowing you’d be pulling load after load from him. No chance he’s pulling out with a grip like that, fuck.

He’s way too close to messing up his pants with how vivid his memory feels so instead he focuses on you. He needs to ruin you as much as you ruin him. There you are happily on your back not even knowing how hard you’re making this on him. He needs you just as ruined. Just as hazy with the lust he feels anytime he smells your cunt get wet.

He pumps his fingers in and out a few times, getting the digits thoroughly soaked. He presses you down a little harder. You need to be kept in place. He crooks his fingers up, pressing against the soft spongy spot with his fingertips. 

He’s only two knuckles deep when he pumps his fingers inside you. He starts slowly. His strong fingers massage you, forcing gentle sighs out of you. Yeah, that won’t do. Going a little harder, he fucks his fingers in and out of you in a curved motion, hitting those upper walls with each stroke. His approach is loose and relaxed, giving you a little warm-up. 

“Homelander…” Like music to his ears you moan his name. Your upper body arches. Your hands squeeze the sheets, your own tits, anything. Not being able to move your hips leaves you defenseless. He speeds up. He keeps up the same rhythm, unfaltering in the motion. The squelch of you alone has him salivating. Whether it’s because he’s hungry to eat your pussy again or just desperate to bury himself balls-deep he doesn’t know, but he wants it either way.

“Oh god, wait, it’s too much..” One of your hands grips his forearm, trying to pull his hand away from holding you down but you stand no chance. Good luck pushing against his godly frame. The only way you’d get him off would be if he took mercy on you. And he’s definitely not planning on that.

Your responsive cunt quivers around his digits. He feels your rushed breath and raised heart rate through the press of his hand. It’s delicious. Giving up any control you ever had over yourself and letting him take the wheel. Even though his pace is harsh, his rhythm is even. He fucks you silly as you cry out, eyes welling up with tears when he doesn’t let up.

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down! Please, fuck—oh fuck—please slow down, Homelander!” You sound shrill, panicked as an unfamiliar feeling rises in your core when Homelander’s fingers plunge into you over and over again, rubbing your wet cunt raw and sensitive. 

He doesn’t stop. Not yet. He wants another pretty big finish. He wants a display equivalent to the fanfare of the 4th of July fireworks. He wants you to celebrate him. Your body needs to appreciate how much he’s giving you.

Each wet throb of your pussy has his cock leaking into his underwear and if he were any ordinary man he’d be losing all self-control, rutting into the sheets or just you, chasing his own spectacular finish. But this is about you proving how much you love him. How much are you willing to endure?

 “Please, it’s too much, too much, toomuch.” You’re gasping for breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your cheeks are streaked with tears as your pathetic attempts at getting him to stop fail. He’s unyielding. A marble statue. Perfect in every way.

Your cunt is vividly locking up around his fingers and while he expected a show-stopping orgasm he didn’t expect this. A gush of clear liquid spurts out of you, followed by wail coming from your lips. Fuck. You’re a squirter. He pulls his fingers out with a squelch as you gush a few more times, soaking his hand, the sheets beneath you and his sleeve. Looking at his soaked sleeve now he thinks he doesn’t even want to get it washed out, carrying the scent of your pussy around like a trophy. 

It’s uncontrollable. Your muscles quiver in a way he’s never seen before. He plunges his fingers into you again, greedy to see if there’s any more in you. Come on, you can do better for him. He deserves the fucking best.

He fucks his fingers into your weeping cunt rapidly, less rhythm this time as he realizes that the heavy breathing he hears is coming from him. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been, slick and squirt coating your thighs, running down in between your ass cheeks adding to the embarrassing bodily squelch of being just a bit too messy. 

It’s alright, he can be messy too. He’ll forgive you for this.

You throb hot and heavy around his fingers and he pulls them out again as he watches you gush two more respectable spurts out of your exhausted pussy. He finally lifts his palm off your pubic area and already you’re squirming, pulling back from him and letting your muscles quiver freely.

“Wow, someone didn’t share all their talents with me!” He looks at you. Wow. He wishes he had a camera on him. You’re panting, your eyes are wet and hazy, your lips are swollen from the way you’ve been biting them and you’ve broken out into sweat. “Made a nasty mess, sweetheart.” He gives your pussy a wet pat with his hand while it’s still in reach. 

“I didn’t—I didn’t know I could…” You sound wrecked. Jesus, he’s done a number on you. But that’s good, you do a number on him each time too. It was only fair you got to know what it's like to feel so uncontrollably good. “Umh, huh, I’m—I’m sorry. For the mess, I mean.” Aren’t you cute? He forced you to squirt and yet your good nature made you feel like apologizing. The only person you should apologize to should be the Vought employee that’s gonna be responsible for changing the sheets after he’s fully done with you. And even then they don’t fucking deserve your apology.

By now he’s had enough of you pulling away, trying to keep him away from this beautiful performance. My god, you were a natural at this. And he’s so fucking close to making you unravel fully.

“Shh, shh, none of that. No apologies. Instead…” He trails off, flashing you another sharp grin. He grabs you by your thighs pulling you right against where he's rock hard and aching. 

“Think you can do that on my cock too?”

Taglist (you can add(or remove) yourself to be tagged when I publish a new fic):

@infinetlyforgotten | @rafecamsgirlll | @nervoussystemss | @hom3landr

@mrsdesade | @nommingonfood | @littlegaaby | @jokesonyoupup

@natliecole | @misatxox

[stargazedwinchester]

Kiss of Life ♡ Dean

Summary: Dean, who you believe doesn't like you, needs your aid in healing his wounds.

Word count: 1,124

Warnings: Mentions of blood

My new upload schedule has changed! There will be a new post every Wednesday and Saturday 12:30 GMT.

Dean had told you to stay behind this hunt, back at the motel. He said he could handle this one with Sam by themselves. You agreed. It was a small hunt. After all, it concluded a meager pack of werewolves in Cincinnati. You had been holed up in this room for just over 12 hours when Dean comes rushing through the door with blood all over his hands.

“Hey- Oh my God!” you exclaim, throwing your book onto the covers and you scramble over to Dean. He stands there with a cross look on his face, wafting you away from him.

“I’m fine, just let me…” He says, turning around toward the kitchenette and turning the tap on. You force yourself to stand in front of him, to get a better look. You gently remove his hand from his face, and he lashes back. “Get out of my face!” He yells, you flinch and you take a few steps back.

Yours and Deans relationship has been a tricky one, multiple ups and downs, arguments over silly things, then making up a day later. You’re unsure on what you’d say your status is with him, as you can go from friends to strangers.

Sam has always tried to convince you he doesn’t hate you, but it’s hard to believe when he acts so irrational.

You watch him attempt to clean himself up, using a damp paper towel to try and get the dried blood off of his skin.

“Dean,” you say, almost a whisper, but he doesn’t listen.

“Dean-”

“Y/N, fucking move.” He growls. He goes to push you aside again, and you refuse to this time.

“No! Stop being a fucking asshole and let me help you! For Gods’ sake, Dean! You retorted; A part of him doesn’t know whether to be proud of you for sticking up for yourself or whether to be annoyed at you for not listening to him.

You take his arm and pull him toward you; you take a dishcloth and some warm water and gently rub at his hands and his wrists. He’s standing there watching you take such cultivated care of him, like it’s second nature. “Look up,” you instruct, placing a finger under his chin. He obeys, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. You examine his face and check for cuts and bruises. He has one clear cut across his cheekbone, which seems to be the verdict for the amount of blood all over him. It glides down from the height of his cheekbone, right down to the middle of his cheek. You let go of his chin and stand back.

“Anything on your body?” You ask, and he hesitates.

“Uh… I don—”

“Take your shirt off.” You snap. He slowly takes his shirt off, revealing his toned torso, shimmering from tiny beads of sweat from the hunt he’s just endured. You can’t help but admire him, but also trying to make it seem like you’re checking him for injuries.

He slowly turns around, allowing you to scan fast enough without being too thorough. “Alright, you look fine,” You catch his eye. Dean smirks cheekily. “Not like that.” You brush him off, although he can’t know you did mean it like that.

He throws his shirt back on, and you fumble around in your bag for bandages and ointment. Dean takes a seat at the table and waits for you.

He hasn’t said a peep toward you since you snapped back at him, assuming it’s because he’s scared to rile you up again. You pick out some gauze and medical tape, even though it’s not the best material to use. At least it would stop it from bleeding and getting infected. Taking the ointment and scooping a little onto the fabric, you spread it around, so it’s completely covered. You take a washcloth and wet it again. You place yourself down next to Dean, giving him a reassuring look.

“Can I?” You hold up the washcloth close to his face, and he nods. “Yeah.”

You dab the cloth against his face, but not on the wound. You gently touch his face with your fingertips and move him where you need him to be. “Why do you want to help me so bad?”

“Because I see a friend come into the motel with blood all over his hands and face, you think I’m going to just ignore it?” You question and he huffs. Taking the antiseptic wipes, you swipe at his wound, causing him to face away from you. “Stop being a baby,” you hush. He purses his lips. “C’mere…” you whisper, moving closer to his face. You place the gauze over his cheek, faintly pressing the ointment onto his skin. He hisses as you move his hand to hold it in place. Taking the medical tape, you tear it with your teeth and stick the gauze to his skin.

“How d’yknow to do all this?” Dean asks. His eyes are gazing at you softly, as if he’s finally calmed down from earlier. Confused, you look at him with a smile on your face. “It’s not hard to put some cream on a bandage and stick it to your face,” you chuckle, and he does the same. “Sam lets me help him when he gets injured. In fact, he comes to me because he has taught me everything. It helps having an extra pair of hands.” You murmur, hoping that what you had just said isn’t rude. Honestly, you only reacted to Dean’s rudeness by snapping at him. As you finish bandaging him up, you pat him on the shoulder as you stand up to put things back into your bag. Dean reaches out for your hand, pulling you back. You’re face to face with him, noses barely touching.

You could cut the tension with a knife between you and Dean. He always had this hard shell doming over him, making it almost impossible to actually get through to him sometimes. You had been patient, understanding, more or less a shoulder for him to cry on. He never got the hint, though, unfortunately.

Dean grins, his eyes are intriguing. The brown flecks compliment the green. They were mesmerising… intoxicating.

Your brain can’t comprehend anything other than the fact that Dean was moving closer, his lips parted and hovering over your bottom lip. You smile, eventually giving in. The kiss is passionate and hungry, as if the pair of you has been waiting for this moment for forever. Dean pulls away.

“Sorry for yelling at you earlier…” He breathes, and you shake your head.

“Shut up.” You lean in for another kiss, gently pulling him in, your fingers embracing his jawline, stubble scratching against your hand.

[presencinglife]

Love shows up at your door, grinning like a friend with “surprise!” tattooed across their forehead. No warning. No water bottle. Just a pair of running shoes and the words, "We’re going… somewhere."

You try to tie your shoelaces, but love is already halfway down the road, turning back only to yell, "Are you coming, or should I find someone with better cardio?"

Your heart becomes a drum solo. Your lungs file a formal complaint. But there you are, chasing love— hair flying, pride abandoned, like someone running for a bus they were never sure they wanted to catch.

"Slow down!" you gasp. But love laughs, wind in its teeth, "Oh darling, if I slow down, we’ll both start thinking too much.

And you get it, sort of. Because when love stops, it starts asking questions: "Do you really want this? Will this last? What if I’m just a pair of new shoes that gave you blisters instead of wings?"

So you keep running. Through sunsets that look like velvet paintings, through arguments that feel like sprinting uphill, through quiet nights where love finally stops, sits down beside you, and says, "Hey… you’re doing great. But, uh, do you always sweat this much?"

You laugh, breathless, leaning into love’s shoulder. And for a moment, the world holds still.

But love is already tying its shoes again. "Ready?" it asks.

And you sigh, stretch your calves, smile with every tired cell in your body, and whisper, "Always."

[muletia]

the mention of Obsessed! Predaking in one of your posts about Shockwave has been rotating in my head like a rotisserie chicken,,,, his breeding kink would be to big it could compete with Megatron's my golly god,,,,

[𝐭𝐟𝐩] 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝!𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

headcanons

cw: obsession, possessiveness, jealousy, valveplug/sexual content, mention of body harm (marking you), manipulation (you manipulate predaking), breeding king, dub-con (not nsfw)

word count: 800

an: was freestyling the whole thing and it probably shows but y'all don't understand how much I crave feral characters

He is not a thoughtless, barbaric beast. Has proven time and time again that he transcends such measures, that he is more complex and multidimensional. His ambitions surpass primitive instincts; he is made up of many different facets. Before he met you, he made every effort to present himself to others as proud, powerful, and cut from the same fabric as the rest of the Cybertronians. Yet his pride crumbles in an instant when he forms a deeper bond with you, revealing primitive, predatory needs. He succumbs to them easily, and they quickly become his entire world, haunting him whether you are near or far. To feel, to experience, smell and touch. His body craves you at every hour of the solar cycle, and then his processor is left battered, defiled by desire, consumed by the need for physical closeness that claws at him from within, demanding release. All he lacks is patience and restraint; once he has had a taste, no force in the universe can take you from him.

Predaking might maintain honor among the Decepticons, but when you come into view, insatiability displaces dignity. Jealous of every living being, he refuses to let anyone get close to you. Like an agitated dog, his optics constantly scan the surroundings for potential threats—or worse, rivals. His primitive, wild side emerges, and in his need to protect his chosen mate, he does not forgive even a lingering glance, paranoid about every gesture and word. The simplest conversation becomes a challenge for you, as it sets off growling, smoke escaping his mouth, and ultimately ends with him nibbling at your neck, biting your skin to leave an unmistakable mark of his emotional state. Your autonomy has come at the cost of your untouchability.

By unofficially naming you Predaqueen, he intends to show everyone that you are taken. That you already belong. Your body becomes a canvas for bite marks, pinched skin from fangs that could so easily kill you, pierce too deeply, and sever an artery. Yet despite his wildness, he can show tenderness, never torturing you for too long or too harshly. When blood appears, he meticulously licks the wound, purring apologies that reveal his hidden morality and gentleness, though they are not entirely trustworthy.

He clings to you without respite, demanding physical contact. He rests his head on your back to share warmth, further enhanced by the flame that escapes his throat on command. He knows he is crushing you, pinning you down to the point where you struggle to breathe freely, but he wants you to stay with him. For your familiar scent to always surround him, calming him when he needs it, keeping him grounded. Soft, delicate skin caresses hard metal, stroking him after he impresses you; equally fascinated by his biology as he is by yours. It’s easy to lose yourself then, letting your thoughts drift into dangerous, erotic waters. They are deceptive but enticing, and Predaking does not deny himself pleasure within the bounds of morality.

+18 content / valveplug

Interfacing perfectly reflects his nature. It is wild and sharp, focused on pleasure, but reproduction is at the forefront. The primitive need, well-known to both humans and him, becomes undeniable when you first let him in, letting him feel how soft and slick a human can be. Something clicks in his processor. He is extraordinarily fortunate that the first valve he has ever tasted belongs to you, for he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Compatibility on such an intimate level raises the question of extending the species. Is it possible? Were you really so similar? Overwhelmed by your scent, your softness, and the bliss he experiences, he concludes that if his spike so effortlessly slides into your core, it couldn’t be otherwise.

Knowing his needs, you can easily control him. Convincing him that if he wants offspring, he must follow your commands; otherwise, nothing will come of it. You hold the leash on a wild, unpredictable creature so fixated on you that he is willing to submit, to please you, even as his processor drowns in his own needs. To adapt to you, to the pace you set, to the position you choose.

However, there are certain actions he undertakes reluctantly. He won’t refuse, but he will make it clear that he is focused on one thing: breeding. He’ll give you pleasure, savoring the taste of human ecstasy or letting you explore him, popping a cherry in his valve. But the end is always the same: he strives for a sparkling, naively believing it is possible, that it can be done. And perhaps it’s better that he believes. For when he hugs you to his chassis and shares his warmth, babbling about what a wonderful mate you are, the entire charade feels worth it.

[dontopenfairies]

“Hey, what’s going on with you? Ohh, you’re pooping.” She grabbed his head and pulled it onto her lap. “Good boy for going in your diaper. Little baby, huh?” She reached her hand into the back of his shorts. “Wow, you really loaded it up this time. That’s a lot.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, grabbing it close to the scalp and tugging at it every so often. “Tell you what,” she said after a few moments of peace on her lap, “if you’re going to go that much why don’t I just change you into your overnight diaper early? Does that sound good?” He nodded against her lap and she started to stand up. He pulled his head up reluctantly and sat up on the couch.

She pulled him to his feet and he started to walk towards the bedroom. He didn’t make it very far before she grabbed his arms and pinned them to the sides of his body. “No way you’re walking. If you’re going to act so little I’m going to carry you.” With a little bit of struggle she managed to pick him up bridal style.

“You can lift me, but are you sure you can carry me to the bedroom?”

“Shh,” she said sternly, walking him out of the room and down the hallway. In the bedroom she let him down hard on his changing mat, a little rough, but not enough to knock the wind out of him.

He liked how rough she was being with him and she could tell, lifting his hips without warning.

Nothing eventful happened during the change except that he dribbled a little bit of pee, which was embarrassing. “Aw, you’re starting to have trouble controlling it,” she said.

Once he was all diapered again, she dressed him in pajamas and carried him back out to the living room. “See, working out is starting to pay off,” she said, letting him down on the couch and withdrawing her arms.

“Is that why you’re going to the gym so much now?” he asked. “Just so you can carry me?”

“I mean, it’s kind of a perk,” she said, sitting down next to him and pulling him onto her lap.

“Can it be the only reason?” he asked.

“Do you want it to be the only reason. Aw, you’re feeling super little right now, aren’t you?” She pet his hair away from his forehead and he closed his eyes, leaning into her shoulder. “Use your diaper anytime you want,” she said. “It’s a little early for it but I don’t mind changing you again. I mean, we haven’t even had dinner yet, and you know what usually happens after we eat dinner…”

“I have to go again after dinner,” he said.

“Yeah, you usually have to go again after we eat. But that’s okay. Here, drink a little bit of water.” She reached out for his water on the table and he clung onto her as she leaned forward. She flipped the cap off and held it up so he could drink. “You’re going to have a good day at work tomorrow, aren’t you? I bet you’ll sleep really good tonight after I baby you.”

“I’m already getting sleepy.”

“Uh-huh, aren’t you? I can tell. Stay awake so we can eat, okay?”

“I can stay awake. I just need to rest for a second…”

[naoyoki]

✦☆ mdni , smut , afab!reader , bondage , mentions of blowjobs , breeding , mind break , feral nanami wanting a kid + fluff . i forgot priests couldn't get married unless they broke their vow , least to say i never really paid attention on sunday school unless it was to get candy 🧌

PINNED PREQUEL PREVIOUSLY

it's the wedding night with priest!nanami, well now theological historian!nanami. his love and devotion for you was so strong that it made him take the decision to elope with you. break his clerical vow of celibacy— as if he hadn't broken it already...countless times, and leave the town with you.

all for the sake of your future. you peered through the window of possibilities as nanami led you, with intertwined hands to the shared room at the hotel.

it would be in the afternoon when the kettle began to screech. the kids would be playing with a golden retriever puppy right outside in the backyard. spraying water from the hose at each other and the little dog. you couldn't help but break out a smile with the beautiful view as you poured the boiled water onto kento's favorite mug.

the sun rays would get transformed into color by the sun catchers, making your way to your husband's office a blast of colors. nanami took with grace the steaming treat you prepared him. even with some wrinkles and white streaks painting his hair, he is still as handsome as the day you met him.

"are the kids bothering you?" wrapping your arms around your husband, you see beyond the closed, wet window which also leads towards the backyard. the kids are still going berserk.

"i had to close the window because of those little rascals. but don't worry, i'm about to finish reviewing these homeworks."

"mmm, alright." your future seemed to be riddled with perpetual smiles and love. your husband takes your hands into his and leands in to kiss them before you begin to leave, "remember, we need to bathe the dog."

he sighs, quite defeated but chuckles soon after, "i can't hate that little devil."

"of course you can't, he's your twin!"

it was kento picking you up into his arms that fazed you out from your fantasy. it came out of nowhere, but he was gentle when elevating you up from the ground. you were his bride, now and forever. so how could he not hold you close to his body like one?

but this gentleness soon transmuted into a lust-driven frenzy. his cock was shiny and slick from your drool and combined juices, of which began to drip onto the mattress.

your arms wrapped around the back of the blond's neck, your tied hands, that held his dick while you suck on it, grasped onto his short hair. his hips helped thrust his cock deep and hard into you, as his tip began to kiss your g-spot and tingle your cervix entrance. leaving you counting stars with every blow he strikes.

"c'mon little dove, talk to me. how many babies you want?" he unlace the bindings that held you, and let your hands tease all around his flexing abs until they landed to your lower belly, "you're gonna look so pretty with my baby here, don't you think so, love?"

[erosmutt]

　★　𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧　⨟　𝗗. 𝗩𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

👥﹐𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ﹒Darth Vader x apprentice!reader

📺﹐𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 ﹒Breaking the rule of two is alright as long as it's his pretty little apprentice - she's the only one Vader will let see him out of his suit.

♰﹐𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ﹒standing sex, sex up against the bacta tank so not really wall sex but eh, Vader refers to reader as "little one" in an affectionate sense﹒

🎼﹐𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 ﹒Angel ⋆ Massive Attack

ਏਓ 𝒃𝒏𝒖𝒖𝒚'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 : unrealistic, he has his limbs in the bacta tank and he's managing without his suit for a bit . for @lacebird <3 // MY KO-FI

The stark grey corridors of the Death Star stretch on endlessly, the only color ever added being the occasional stormtrooper on patrol or an Imperial officer making his way to a meeting. It's sterile, oppressive, and you absolutely despise it. The Imperial Palace is where you would much rather reside, and you make a point to mention it every chance you get.

With a low hiss, the door to a chamber hardly entered opens and you step inside, your robes flowing. A massive, cylindrical tank rests on a raised platform - a bacta tank. The green liquid inside churns gently, illuminating the room with a dim, eerie, somewhat ethereal glow. Within is your Master, Darth Vader, his scarred body submerged in the healing fluid, the only time he ever seems somewhat at peace.

You take a moment to compose yourself as you step up to the bacta tank, your robes rustling softly with each step. Your eyes are fixed on him, filled with a mix of curiosity and deep concern. As you reach the tank, you press your soft hand against the glass, feeling the warmth of the healing liquid on the other side. Your heart races as you gaze upon his scarred body, the evidence of countless battles fought and pain endured etched into his very flesh. You've often found yourself wondering about the stories behind each mark, each wound, but Vader has always remained stoically silent when you've dared to ask.

A small sigh escapes your lips and your mouth trembles slightly as you begin to speak. "Master," you whisper, your eyes never leaving his form submerged in the bacta. "Is there anything I can do for you while you rest?" Your hand lingers on the glass, fingers tracing the outline of his form through the liquid, a small, sad smile playing on your lips. "You know you can always talk to me, Master," you add, your voice filled with gentle encouragement and unwavering devotion.

Suddenly, Vader's eyes open, piercing you with their intense gaze. The top of the tank hisses softly, lifting open. He rises from the tank, water cascading down his muscular body in rivulets. He removes the mask and takes a deep breath of fresh air, standing there nude and imposing. "What do you want, apprentice?" He asks, voice a deep, commanding rasp. He takes a step towards you, his presence beginning to overwhelm you in the small chamber. Your breath catches in your throat, equal parts fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins.

"I just wanted to check on you, Master," You murmur, hands coming to fold together in front of you. His eyes rake over your body, taking in every curve and swell, further committing them to memory. "And now?" He asks, closing the distance between you. He towers over you, heat radiating off his body, power emanating off him. Your heart pounds in your chest, your cheeks flushing as your Master leans down, still too tall to come eye to eye with you. "You want something else, yes?"

Vader's hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. As your hands find his biceps, you can feel the hard plane of his body, the strength in his muscles, the heat of his skin. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that takes your breath away. His tongue delves into your mouth as his cybernetic hands roam your body, mapping every dip and curve like a starved man.

His cold hands gather your robes before sliding underneath them, kneading the soft flesh, thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples. You gasp as he pinches them, robes falling to the floor, leaving you bare and exposed to the cold air. His golden orbs take in your body, his right hand sliding down and dipping into your leggings and between your thighs, his fingers finding your slick heat. "Say my name," he murmurs against your lips.

"Master," you gasp as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he turns the both of you around and puts your back up against the bacta tank. Your eyes meet his, breath coming in short pants, body aching for him. "Master,"

With a swift motion, he tears your bottoms apart, leaving you exposed. A deep, rasping breath leaves his chest as he sheathes himself inside you in one smooth thrust, your tight cunt stretching around his thick shaft. "Maker!" You cry, nails raking across his shoulders and down his thick arms. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust before he starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a harsh rhythm.

"Gods," he whispers, head dipping down to your neck, nose brushing against your soft skin. His hands move down to grip your ass, lifting you higher to change the angle, hitting that spot deep inside that makes you see stars. He pounds up into you with abandon, the bacta tank shaking with the force of his thrusts. A low, guttural moan rumbles from Vader's chest as he buries himself deeper, and he can feel your slick walls fluttering around him, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing in the small chamber.

His breathing grows heavier, the air in the room growing hotter. As you tighten around him, he can sense your impending orgasm and he redoubles his efforts, chasing his own high. The tank shakes and the bacta inside sloshes, some spilling over and splashing onto your skin. With a final, hard thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his warm seed into your waiting womb. he groans, long and low, body shuddering with the force of his release.

Vader holds you close as you both come down from your highs, his softening cock still inside of you. He nuzzles your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He pulls out of you slowly, the both of you watching as his cum begins to drip out of you. In a daring move, you reach down and gather a bit on your fingertips, bringing them up to your mouth and tasting him before reaching down again and gently stuffing his cum back in.

He sets you down on shaky legs, hands holding your hips to steady you. "Go and rest, little one." He murmurs, making a silent promise to come check on you later. "Yes Master," you respond, tugging your robes down over yourself. You lean up and press a soft kiss to his bicep before turning away and leaving, the door to the chamber hissing shut behind you.

@102hannah @addictedtohobi @literally-izzy @bimbo-baggins17 @brooklynb8by

@jameskellysgirl @lovebunanon @speaknow-sw @anakinstwinklebunny@vrby9

@zapernz @jediavengers @enchant5d @trippyhippywitch @valloos

@piastricentric @gallerygourmet @anakinsbbgirl @ilovekmchenzie @gabsskkk

@s1ck-skv1l @s1aywalker @t03soup @offthethirlwall @tfmerc

@starlmbed @slutforfinnickodair @geekforhorror @necromancerrrs @theladykassia

@thesassypadawan @cocobear18 @anisangeldust @fredswrite @byunnue

@d0llfilth @haydenslittlegirl @lunarnightt @espinathena-17 @fallout-girl219

@mugwump327 @stepdadjameskelly @anisluvrgirl @xhunnybeeex @radiantvader

@urmomsgirlfriend1 @hayden-christensen-verse @rssmary @dreamygirli3 @awhhayden

[islandofthedollz]

❤︎Get well soon ❤︎

⁠❥TW: Rape, Somnophilia, Non-Con |MDNI

Curly’s precious little sister is really sick your caring brother making sure your every need is met. Curly notices that your low on medication but he doesn’t wanna leave you alone so he calls Jimmy and see if he can take care of you while he picks up you’re medication. Jimmy agrees.

Curly tells Jimmy that you have 1 pill left Jimmy nods. Jimmy walks over you your room he sees you snuggled up watching tv. “Hey kid” he sluggishly says leaning on your door frame. “Hi Jimmy” you say as you turn your head to cough. Jimmy wrinkles his nose in disgust he walks out of your room yelling at you that he’s gonna come back with your medication.

Jimmy walks to the kitchen sees the fridge full of pictures of you and curly. He looks at the pictures of you. What a slut he thinks always wearing shorts the hug your ass and low cut shirts and dresses to tease him. He snaps out of his thought and remembered his special pill for you. Jimmy gets water and walks over to your room. He hands you the pill and water. You look at the pill looking different then the ones curly gives you. “Why is it a different color?”

Jimmy sighs he grabs the bridge of his nose “ Curly said these are the extra strength ones their supposed to assist your regular medication. You don’t question it Jimmy has never ever told you a lie plus if your big brother said it why doubt it. You grab the medication from Jimmy’s calloused hands. You take the medication washing it down with water. Jimmy and sets a timer on his phone for 10 minutes.

Time skip to 10 minutes

Jimmy walks into your room and sees you asleep perfect the thinks. He takes off your covers only a long short covering you. Jimmy’s hands roam your legs he lifts your shirt and sees your panties his has touches it rubbing your clit up and down. He looks up and sees you knocked out cold.

He slides your panties off and starts sucking and licking your clit he hears a small moan from you. What a filthy girl it’s like you’re basically telling him to fuck you. What type of man would he be ignoring this kind of request. He quickly takes his belt off lowing his rough jeans and boxers. He pumps his cock a few time Jimmy doesn’t bothering prepping you. He grabs your hips digging his nails into your delicate soft skin and thrust him self roughly. Jimmy tilts his head back enjoying how warm your pussy is from your fever.

You tensed up in your sleep at a foreign invasion inside your cunt, before the medicine he gave you succumbed your body back into the dreamland. After a few thrust Jimmy was in a trance how tight your warm walls squeezed him you want this you need him to fill you up. Jimmy stopped caring about waking you up.

He started at a rough pace, gripping your legs tightly in his hands as he pounded your - no, his - cunt. Yes, you’d be his cumdump from now on. He knew he could be manipulative when he wanted to, he would have you as his perfect little cocksleeve sooner rather than later. He should have done this much much sooner. Jimmy speed up sped up again, ramming into you as fast as he could. He felt your body shudder and jolt.

He leaned down to bite at your lips when his dick twitched. He stopped balls deep inside you, cuming with a loud groan. He pulled out of you white cum dribbling out of your pussy he quickly pulled out his phone taking a picture of your destroyed pussy. Jimmy puts his pants back on and lowers your shirt and walks down stairs turning on the tv. A few minutes later curly walks in with medication.

“Sorry about the long wait Jim I got stuck in traffic I hope she wasn’t too much trouble for you” curly says scratching the back of his head. Jimmy gets up from the couch “the brat wasn’t to much trouble she’s asleep in her bed”. Jimmy gets his keys “see ya” Jimmy slams the door closed before curly can say anything.