#catching snakes with bare hands
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battleslippers · 8 months ago
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ohhh my god this is so cute.. the hockey flow is too real and the HAMSTER 😭😭😭
Literally every single one involving Steve is just chefs kiss and the middle school faze is too good. I fear I have to ask for the stevepop social media au it's ADORABLE. AND THE WAY HE AUTOMATICALLY RESPONDS LMFAOOOO
Could you do some modern day Soda headcanons please? I love him so much and I love your blog so much soooooo….
Ok so soda is tricky for me to write but I tried my best!!!
Modern Au Sodapop Headcanons
-Drinks every single energy drink imaginable. Rockstar? Like its water. Prime? For the plot. 5 hour energy? He’ll down it in five seconds. Darry is HORRIFIED.
-Is pretty enough he’s one of those people who becomes moderately famous on TikTok without having to really do much. His followers notice he’s always talking to someone off camera, and they’re desperate to find out who it is, but Soda only ever responds to comments with ‘oh that’s just Stevie, he doesn’t like TikTok’.
-Soda’s followers have a lot of theories about this ‘Stevie’. Soda is weirdly tight lipped about him, despite the fact he often breaks off mid rant in videos to talk to him. There’s also the fact that the rest of the gang is often around/in the background of videos, but the mysterious ‘Stevie’ never appears. (okok I’ll stop here before this becomes a Stevepop social media au)
-Regularly forgets to take his ADHD meds and Darry often has to remind him
-Would either have a hockey flow or a mullet (whatever y’all think, personally I think modern Soda with a hockey flow tracks with his character)
-One of those people who loves horror movies but is also completely terrified of even the dumbest ones and has to sleep with the lights on for weeks afterwards. Steve makes fun of him for it, but will also stay up on the phone with him if Soda watches one by himself and freaks himself out
-Has a million fidget spinners because they actually help him focus on stuff when he needs to
-Soda in modern AU wouldn’t call Ponyboy ‘kid brother’ as a nickname (don’t get me wrong, I love it but Ive never heard it used irl). Instead, I think him and Darry (and thus the rest of the gang) refer to Pony as ‘shrimp’ and Ponyboy absolutely hates it  “where’s the shrimp” “he’s has track practice ‘till four, you of all people should know that Dar” (brought to you by me and my interactions with my own little brothers)
-The whole gang is super into video games, but Soda is kind of shit at them and lowkey grumpy about it
-Every teacher he’s ever had has done that thing where they expect him to be exactly like his older sibling, and therefore expect him to be a model student like Darry, and every time they are proven entirely wrong. By the time the same teachers see Ponyboy’s name on their class lists they’re terrified of what to expect
-He definitely had that horrible middle school boy stage where he just reeked of axe body spray and BO before he figured out proper hygiene
-Every two weeks him and Steve end up doing some sort of YouTube deep dive where they end up being convinced of some sort of wild conspiracy theory that Ponyboy and sometimes Darry have to spend three hours talking them out of
-Uses far too many emojis in texts
-He had a pet hamster once and you know that thing died in the most horrendous way imaginable. Two-bit probably farted into the cage at one point as a joke and the poor thing asphyxiated to death or some shit like that
-He’s that kid in group projects who does nothing and tanks the presentation for everyone by mispronouncing half the words on the slides some other group member made for him
-Him and Steve are so inseparable that when they’re not together people will be like ‘where’s your boyfriend’ and he just answers without thinking before flushing really hard and sputtering a bit. 
-One of those people that casually catches snakes with his bare hands. Steve HATES it and Ponyboy is TERRIFIED of snakes so he gets in trouble with Darry if he does it too often or brings them near the house
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weezmancer3 · 1 year ago
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Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Herpetologist
While Iwaizumi is at college he takes a bunch of weird biology classes. He's in the middle of a project for a Herpetology class when Oikawa decides to pay him a visit. (Herpetology is the study of reptiles and amphibians btw <3). Oikawa shows up and just jumps into obnoxious visitor mode ("Iwa, show me around campus!" "Iwa, what do you even do for fun here?") and Iwaizumi gets to plotting. He loads Oikawa into his car and they drive out to a nature reserve. Oikawa starts complaining about hiking and Iwazumi stops and opens the trunk.
Iwa: We aren't going hiking
Oikawa: Oh, thank god
Iwa: you're going to help me tag and release the toads in this pond.
Oikawa: ...
Iwa, pulling two pairs of bibbed overalls from the car: >:)
Oikawa then left and did not return till the class was over. Iwaizumi still has pictures of Oikawa gagging at the toads and uses them for blackmail.
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pwurrz · 1 year ago
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do you think.. when yakumo’s really trying to concentrate on something.. he’ll just stand there with his eyes closed and a little bit of his tongue sticking out in a tiny blep so he can focus all of his attention onto smelling??
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krazys-ass-emporium · 1 year ago
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Thinking about my childhood again and how I would just casually buy axes and knives at like age 10 and no one batted an eye at it. The late 90s/early 2000s were just built different. I bought my brother an ax for Christmas one year. I ended up giving it to him early though because we had a tree we wanted to chop down by the old abandoned farm house we'd play at in the swamp near the house. And then I held onto a branch on said tree about three inches away from the blade while my brother chopped it.
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tonycries · 5 months ago
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Girl, I Do This Often
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Synopsis. How does he cope with a séx ban? He doesn’t.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, rough séx, unprotected, stuff with pantíes, gaggíng, bréeding, Nanami is a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, really desperate boys, light smackíng (Nanami), bondagé + víbrators (Geto), swearing.
Word count. 5.2k
A/N. Guess what, ya girl just turned 19 yippeeeee.
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 4 days
On the first day, Toji’s more amused than anything.
A sex ban? With him? Ridiculous, he predicted a full 24 hours before you come crawling back, just begging to be split-apart on his cock. And he tells you so, too - a little over five times as he kisses your pouty lips, muttering a smug, “You’ll be eating your words soon enough, doll.”
By the third day, he’s beginning to think that okay, maybe you were serious about the ban after all. How cute - real cute. 
He’s left to do nothing but complain pathetically on the phone to a very reluctant Shiu. Who doesn’t have much to say other than cut off Toji’s ramblings about “not having your pretty pussy all day” to groan, “Shut the fuck up and beg for her forgiveness. I’m hanging up.”
Toji can only scoff at the thought. Beg for forgiveness? Him? Toji Fushiguro never begs, he never-
That was until the fourth day. 
With you - bent over the kitchen counter in his t-shirt - and nothing but his t-shirt.
“Please, pretty.” Toji drags his lips down your neck, just loving the way your traitorous hips are grinding back into his. “Said m’sorry, right? Don’t ya miss this?”
And you can only look behind your shoulder at the big arms around your waist, muscled thighs pressed up against yours. Angling your head just right to catch the way his hands snake down to your squirming hips to help you draw slow little circles against the rock-hard erection straining against his pants.
So close. So big.
Big enough that you’re almost thinking of throwing this sec ban out of the window altogether - almost.
But that little smirk of Toji’s is infuriating enough that you’re gasping out a breathless little, “I-I’m still mad at you, y’know? You never let me-” The words die in your throat as Toji pulls his pants down just enough for his aching cock to spring free. So angry and painfully hard, leaking hot precum all over your thighs. 
“No no no- hah. Keep talking.” he grits out, breath hot against your ear. Hips pushing and pulling. “Please- keep talking.”
And fuck you didn’t know what was harder - trying to find your voice, or ripping your eyes away from Toji’s cock long enough that you could. 
“B-because you-” you choke out, watching the way he takes his massive cock in his hands. Staring to pump so slow - so lazy - no rhythm or reason other than getting off so filthily to the sound of your voice. “You never let me take-” He wraps your smaller hands around his dick, so hot and heavy in your palms. “-charge.”
“F-fuck-” Toji lets out a low hiss, head thrown back as you thumb teasingly under his sensitive slit, trying to fuck something delicious out. “Yer killin’ me doll. Killing me.” Whether from your words or from the way you’re sliding him so lewdly between your puffy folds, you didn’t know. 
And Toji didn’t either. Hell, he doesn’t even seem to be breathing as he shifts his toned hips so familiarly. Head filled with only you and your heavenly cunt and you. 
“Toji-” you mewl. “Need you so bad.”
If he was any lesser man, Toji would’ve just bullied himself into your dripping cunt already, fucked you into the counter until there was nothing about any sex ban in your pretty lil’ mind. Instead, he’s panting out an absolutely wrecked, “Please. Then take all the charge you want, pretty.”  Fat head lining up with your sloppy hole. “Next time.”
And oh has it really been that long?
Because Toji’s just barely pushing into your plushy walls, and he already feels like he could cum right then and there. The stretch too sinful. Your walls too tight. So cute how you’re already mumbling his name so deliriously. 
“Awww,” he coos, watching awe-struck at the way you flatten your hands on the counter, fucking yourself back into him in short, shallow little grinds. “The s-sex ban was for ah- nothing, huh?”
You’re pulling him impossibly closer by the hair, catching his lips in such a searing kiss. Drinking in Toji’s guttural grunt as you bite down on his lower lip, “Are ya gonna sh-shut up n’ fuck me or do I need ngh- another sex ban?”
“No, ma’am.” he grins, kissing back so mockingly soft. And you know he’s making fun of you with the way he’s twitching so wildly inside your pussy. Veins dragging against all the right spots as he reels his hips back, back, back - only to slam his cock fully inside. “Guess you’re the one mm- in charge right now, huh?”
Over and over again. Fucking you exactly the way he’s wanted these past four days - and then some. 
Hitting your cervix - but it feels like your fucking lungs. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, so hard that he’s sure it’ll leave some obscene marks for him to point out next time. One hand around your throat, the other keeping your slutty, trembling hips in place while you’re torn between running away and bucking back for more more more-
“Right here.”
It’s all you can do to whirl your head around, eyes glassy and unfocused, whining a broken, “Wh-what?” 
“Right…” Trailing down, featherlight, right where he knew he was wrecking your insides. “Here. S’where I belong.” Pressing hard. “N’ m’gonna make sure you don’t forget it.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 1 week
A week. One week of being patient with your silly idea to “spice things up”. One week of pretending like he wasn’t excusing himself during important meetings to have his cock in his hands - thinking of nothing but you and that sinful little dress you had on today.
One week was all it took for Nanami to have a bad day at work. And you could tell when he did. 
By the way that front door slammed, unfamiliarly harsh footsteps sounding against the hardwood floors. And all it takes is one look at you laid out so prettily on the couch and Nanami’s mouth drops into a soft oh! 
One hand immediately loosening his tie, the other snaking down to his belt. Ashen, tense, - and you have half the mind to wonder whether he’s even breathing. 
Not even looking at you as he mutters a low, “Panties off. Spread those legs.”
That was a few hours ago. 
Before you knew it, your husband had you splayed out like such a slut for him on the couch - too starved to even think about making it to the bed. Legs on his sculpted shoulders, panties in tatters on the floor because you were taking too fucking long. Cock so angry and sensitive as he bullies into your snug cunt, stuffing you full of his cum.
Again. And again and again like he wanted to fuck any and every thought of that stupid sex ban out of your delirious mind. 
“K-Kento- what-” he pulls you into a bruising kiss. Just a sloppy clash of teeth and spit and hands everywhere. “You’re ngh- different.”
At this, Nanami has the audacity to laugh - laugh. Hips snapping impossibly deeper, “Yeah? N’ who’s fault is hah- that? Who’s fault is it th-that we ended hngh- up like-” Pushing your knees all the way up to your tits, groaning at the mess of cum and slick pooling beneath you. “-this?”
Cock just ramming into you, prominent veins nudging against your gummy walls so agonizingly. The couch creaking in protest as he uses your pretty lil’ cunt exactly the way he’s been fantasizing this past week.
And when all you can do is let out delirious little moans in response, Nanami raises his hand up, up, up. Coming down on your ass, hard. 
Smack!
“Didn’t you know we’d end up here?”
Oh the words hit you harder than that large palm-print stinging your ass. Tight pussy clenching and trying to milk the fucking soul out of him as you sob, “I- I didn’t-” Smack! You’re jolting at the impact, hips bucking wildly as you gasp, “-I did! Wanted this so bad, Kento. I did I did-”
And yeah, Nanami knew that. He knew you’d pulled this little “sex ban” stunt to make him break - to have him fuck you like the slut you are. But hearing the words from your pretty mouth had his balls squeezing so painfully. 
“Knew it.” he manages to grit out. “Knew you were such a slut, my love.” Words strained with each harsh thrust, “N’ as my slut, y-you can ngh- take one more, right?” You keen at how soft his tone was, like he was whispering sweet little nothings to you instead of promises to absolutely break you. Fingers trailing down to draw lewd patterns on your throbbing clit, “Right?”
And as if to prove you could, he’s squeezing his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. Faster. Unforgiving. Fat, leaking tip hitting all those sweet spots he’s mapped out, in time with his abuse on your clit.
“Didn’t hah- have to lock myself in my office for nothing, right?” Pulling your trembling hips flush against his toned ones, “Have to get by with j-just a pretty picture this week for nothing?” Hips out of control now. Bruising. Almost painful with the stretch and the sheer pressure of being so full. “S’all for this, right?”
Smack! 
“Oh God, Kento- Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
“Yeah? Feels good?” he nips at your lower lip, “Good enough to fuck- take another one?”
You were sure if he came once more then it might just be the death of you.
You’re not even lucid enough to realize what reaction you’re giving him - all you know is that it isn’t good enough for Nanami. 
Because he lets out a tut, hand dancing across your stomach to where he knew he was absolutely making a mess of you inside. 
“Fine.” And something about the way he says it makes your heart stop, already knowing that it didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Guess I hafta ngh- help you.” Sure enough, Nanami wastes no time before pushing down on your abdomen. 
The both of you watch - awe-struck and speechless - as your overfilled pussy gushes all around him. 
And shit neither of you can even begin to think of what a bitch it’ll be to clean out this couch later on. Too caught up in the way you’re soaking Nanami’s merciless cock in that sinful mix of cum and slick. Thick, and hot, drooling down the side of your puffy folds. 
“See? Enough space, no?”
You raise your eyes, teary and hazy with lust, up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones and oh-
You weren’t going to make it out alive. 
Especially not when he leans down, whispering so raggedly in your ear, “Now I get to give ya another week’s worth more, right?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - 9 days
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
You didn’t know how it ended up this way. How that stupid bet about who’d be the needier one made Geto the one with the sex ban. 
How he had you tied across from him so prettily on the bed, a bullet vibrator stuffed up your dripping cunt, unable to do anything but whine and watch as he spreads his bare, muscled thighs.
Tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching those panties wrapped around his throbbing cock. So angry and leaking all over his fist as one hand slides up, up, up. The other, fiddling with that tiny metal remote. 
“You’re drooling, gorgeous. So desperate, huh?”
You know you aren’t - but you can’t help the way your face burns at your boyfriend’s low chuckle. Thighs squeezing together at the heavenly sight before you. “N-no fair, Sugu.” you whine. “I want to-”
Intensity setting 2.
But whatever words get stuck in your throat as Geto draws harsh, quick little circles on the intensity setting, smirking at the way you’re so wrecked already. 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
“I-I want to-” he mocks your pathetic little whines, acting for all the life of him that they didn’t make his dick twitch so wildly in his hands. “My poor baby. S’not nice, right?” And if you were embarrassed before then it was absolutely nothing in comparison to when Geto knits his brows in mock concern, eyes locked on yours. Hand still moving down his cock, “But isn’t this what you wanted? With the sex ban? Isn’t this-” Hips bucking up to show off how sloppily he’s fucking his fist - and your panties along with it, “-what you were asking for?”
“No.” you’re tugging at the ties at your wrist, “I wanted…”
Intensity setting 3. 
But oh it’s like Geto was well and fully intent on leaving you speechless - and succeeding at it too. 
Because he immediately brings up your panties - flimsy and just so soaked - up to his face, breathing in so filthily. And as if he couldn’t help himself - as if he didn’t want to help himself - the remote falls out of Geto’s hand, “accidentally” locked on the highest setting, first wrapping around his cock to make a mess of himself. 
“F-fuck-” he cracks one eye open, balls squeezing so painfully at the way you were almost in tears trying to get some semblance of friction. “Heh, looks like I’m winning the bet.”
You scoff, but it comes out so pathetically like a whine. “You’re a cheater, I’d have w-won this bet otherwise.”
Ah, how Geto loved your smart mouth - though, he probably loved it even more when you’re fucked dumb. But, right now, bet at the forefront of his mind, the next best thing he could do is shove those sinful panties into your mouth. 
Hand flying up and down his cock faster and faster as you choke like such a slut on it. Greedily eyeing the way your lip wobbles, big fat tears welling up in your eyes, cunt all glistening and quivering as Geto blindly reaches behind to grab ahold of that remote again. 
Intensity setting 4. 
“And you’re too cute.” he drops his head, breath ghosting your lips. “So if you ask me nicely I might just-” Thumb playing around with the intensity, pressing down, hard. As if it would translate to your needy cunt, “-give you my cock, gorgeous.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
It’s all you can do to keen as his fingers get faster on the remote, other hand getting so sloppy on his painfully hard cock. Matching that sinful little ah! ah! ah! leaving your swollen lips. Sinful - and stubborn, still refusing to say those words that you knew Geto wanted to hear so badly. 
“Awww, still not giving up?” At your delirious little headshake, “Then how about this?” 
Intensity setting 5. 
And shit it makes you arch off the bed entirely. It makes you let out a strangled yelp of, “Oh- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck Sugu, m’gonna-” It makes you cum.
“Tha’s it.” Geto can’t help but let go of his aching cock to draw rough, messy little circles on your clit. Grinning at the way you’re so pretty when you cum untouched - all for him. Over and over and- He reaches over to catch your lips with his, tongue dancing with yours, around your soaked panties. 
So filthy and dizzying that he almost forgets about that bet - almost. Because you’re murmuring something so incoherent into his lips. 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
God, doesn’t matter who wins next time - he needs to fucking do this again.
“What’s that?” he leans in tauntingly, pulling the fabric out of your mouth, finger still running circles around the intensity. Absolutely addicted to the way you’re twitching and whining at the aftershocks of your orgasm, “M’sorry, gorgeous, this vibrator is too loud. Speak up f’me, hm?”
“P-please fuck me, Sugu.”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 21 hours
If Choso had it his way, then you’d both still be at home and he’d be balls-deep inside your sloppy pussy - fucking you over and over into the mattress until the neighbours file another noise complaint. 
But, alas, Jin Itadori was sure to hire a hitman - or worse, Sukuna - on him if he missed another family dinner. Which is how it ended up with you, sat so prettily across the table from him, watching through his long lashes at the way that red dress hugged you so sinfully. 
So right, in a way that made Choso almost jealous. So irresistibly, in a way that had Sukuna looking over a few too many times and-
Choso’s chair almost hits the floor with how fast he stands.
Fuck it.
“Sh-shit, Choso I-” 
“Keep ah- that dress up, baby. Unless ya wanna get it d-dirty.” he’s panting into your open mouth,  tongue so hotly toying with yours as he gives you another harsh thrust. “Though, I don’t ngh- mind.”
And he was telling the truth, too. Choso was in no way gentle with the way he had you sat on the bathroom counter, flimsy dress bunched up at your hips. Strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully while he bullied his cock into you with reckless abandon.
Over and over and-
“Cho!” you yelp, as he hits that one spot so expertly. Flashing you a fucked-out grin as how you’re scrambling to cover your mouth. “Th-they’ll hear.”
“So?”
And it’s all you can do to stop your jaw from falling slack once more - both in disbelief and at the way he’s fucking you so mean. So desperately like he hasn’t in months - years, even. Just unfocused, sloppy movements to milk his cock on your snug cunt.
“I don’t mind hah- that either.” Hand dipping underneath your soaked panties - just lazily pulled to the side - to roll your swollen clit between two fingers. “W-what I do mind is my oh- fuck girl holdin’ out on me and wearing that fucking dress on the s-same day.”
Oh you knew you were pushing the limits of your sex ban by wearing his favorite dress, that it would drive him absolutely wild. You just didn’t know it would be this easy.
“But you promised.” you’re letting out such broken little whines, muffled through your fingers, ones that go straight to Choso’s achingly hard cock. “You hngh- promised we wouldn’t at your family’s…”
The only response you get is Choso rolling his hips deeper into yours, so bruising in a way you knew would make you feel so guilty even when all the marks are covered up. Leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck in time with the way he alternates between hitting your poor, abused cervix and that one spot. 
Gasping out a ragged, “I know- I know I know fuck- Hah- I know.” Words strained - like he was losing a bit of his sanity with each thrust. And needed you to be the same. “But shit, baby. Do you know how p-pretty you look right now? Hngh- how fuckable?”
“Y-you’re so fuckin’ dirty.” you mewl, as if you were any better. As if your gummy walls weren’t sucking the fuckin soul out of Choso right now. “Should’ve made the ngh- sex ban even long-”
He bites down at the soft crook of your neck, growling out a little, “Don’t even joke about that.” 
And if Choso expected a response, then he didn’t act that way. 
Hips just erratic against yours, fingers even worse. Not even moving in circles anymore, just messy, sloppy patterns to-
No. 
You gasp at the realization, the deft movements of Choso’s fingers, and it just makes you all the more fucked-out underneath him. Scrambling to grab at the counter - Choso’s hair - his shoulders - just anything and everything to stop yourself from alerting the entire household to what you two were up to. Letting him fuck you like his favorite sextoy, fingers so so messy and spelling out a relentless little C-H-O-S-O-C-H-O-S-
And then you’re cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your eyes. Choso’s massive cock fucking any and every thought of the dinner just downstairs out of your mind. 
“F-fuck fuck fuck- ngh- we’re never coming back here for dinner again.”
And it’s all you can do to drag your nails down his broad back, leaving deep red marks that make his balls squeeze so painfully. 
It makes him throw his head back, gasping out your name so loud. It makes him pull your hips so bruisingly against his. 
It makes him cum, spilling thick, hot ropes of cum into your pussy. So messy with the way it’s too much to bear, dribbling down your swollen folds, forming a lewd little pool below you. And Choso doesn’t give a fuck - doesn’t care if he leaves marks that everyone will see. Or if that slutty dress of yours has a suspicious little damp patch as he swiftly pulls out to snap your panties back in place. 
Whispering lowly against your lips, “K-keep it in till we leave, hm?”
“Cho-”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“The fuck? You brats fall in or something?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 days
The great Ryomen Sukuna has always been terrifying - but never before has he been this ruthless. So utterly savage. Destroying every single curse he comes across in the blink of an eye - friend or foe, big or small. 
Why? All because he hasn’t been able to fuck your pretty lil’ cunt in two days. Which, in his opinion, are two days too long. All because of some stupid little experiment about wanting to see how long it would take to see the king of curses crack.
And when those trembling curses heard about this ah- sex ban through the grapevine, well, they wrote it off as another baseless rumor. Ha, Ryomen Sukuna cracking? Never. 
“Please…brat.” he bites down on your earlobe, further pushing up your expensive robes - ones he’d bought just to get on your good side - to sink his cock deeper inside your heavenly cunt. “There I said it. Now jus’ a bit more-”
And maybe you’re a mastermind - maybe you’re an idiot. Because you’re digging your heels into the mattress, pushing off ever-so-slightly from his aching hard cock. So thick and angry as it slips out of your sloppy hole. 
You bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at a pissed off Sukuna, “I didn’t like your tone.” Crossing your legs to cover that view he was so fixated on, “Either you beg n’ start all over again or-”
“Fine.” he grits out the word, like it physically hurt to. Though, nothing for what falls from his lips next, “Please.”
“Louder.”
“Please.”
There you had it. And you can’t help but smirk, “Well, I liked that one-”
Nothing more is said - in Sukuna’s eyes, nothing more has to be said. Because he’s got his favorite lil’ human all needy and spread so shamefully in front of him, what more could he want? Sukuna grabs your ankles, pulling you to him like a ragdoll. Wasting no time before he’s splitting you apart on his rock-hard cock.
“Ya don’t hah- know how many curses I killed these past two days.” he kisses your ankles so softly. “How many I wanted to kill.”
And God, if you didn’t know any better you’d say it’s like he wanted to kill you with the way Sukuna barely even gives you time to adjust. Stuffing you full of his cock, so hot and thumping against your gummy walls in a maddening little bump! bump! bump! 
Letting out a strangled moan of, “There you go.” Brows scrunching together, looking wrecked already as he rocks his hips into yours - fast. Hard. hands coming up underneath your ass to arch you deeper into him, “Squeezin’ me so- tight. Heh, almost ”
“Oh hngh- ‘Kuna!” you moan, eyes snapping down to the way your cunt was taking him up so good. Puffy folds bulging around his massive cock, looking like they were sucking the fucking soul out of Sukuna as his massive cock disappears in and out in and out in and- “S’too- much-”
“Shut up.” he drops his head, one hand so bruising all over your body - groping your ass, your tits, playing with your throbbing clit. “Ya wanted hah- me to talk, right? And I say-” The other, squeezing your cheeks together into a pathetic lil’ pout, “Open up.”
It’s so embarrassing the way you can’t do anything but let your mouth fall open so sluttily, tongue lolling out just in time to catch the stream of saliva as Sukuna spits once. Twice. 
So filthy with the way he lets it splatter against the corner of your mouth - on purpose. 
“Wanted the king to beg, huh?” Each word is punctuated by such a harsh thrust, twitching balls stinging against your ass. “Well you got it. H-how does it feel, huh?”
And you couldn’t speak up even if you wanted to. Sukuna’s hand too tight around your face, cock too merciless. Slamming his hips down faster and faster as he runs his mouth, like he was taking revenge for the last two days. Again. And again. And again and again-
Grinning at your delirious little gurgles, “Heh, what? Can’t talk?” 
And as if to prove his point, Sukuna loops two big arms around your waist, falling back on his knees with you sat like such a slut on his cock. Fingers lacing above your head to sink you impossibly deeper and deeper-
“Oh my god- K-” Your breath hitches as he fucks up into you so easily. Feeling more and more like some plaything with each ripple of his muscles underneath your legs. So hard you were sure it would leave marks - both confirming and condemning those rumors you knew have been flying around. His balls on your ass, thighs underneath yours, nails dragging lightly down your skin. 
Resting on your waist, holding your quivering hips still as he grunts, “Now shut up. M’gonna get my fill of the last two days.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - 4 hours
To the great Gojo Satoru, this droning, 4-hour meeting with the elders was a nightmare. To you, it was exactly where you wanted him
It wasn’t often that the strongest was tense - jittery, even, like he was about to jump out of his seat at any given moment. But, really, it was almost impossible not to, considering that stern talking-to you’d given him about “no sneaking out during meetings.” Especially when you’re sat across from him looking so beautifully unbothered.
Your smile too pretty, your uniform unbuttoned just enough that it gave him such a heavenly view when you bent over just so.  
Oh, how Gojo wishes he could just-
And that was when he felt it. 
That slow, slight touch up his inner thigh - so fleeting and light that he almost thinks he’s imagining it. But, no, Gojo could never mistake any touch from you. 
It sends his entire skin burning to catch your eye ever-so-briefly from across the table. A tiny smirk gracing those pretty lips as your heel inches up, up, up-
“Gojo, do you have anything to comment on the recent increase in curse sightings?”
He stifles a groan underneath one palm, the other snaking under the table just in time to catch your ankle before you can carefully slip away. “I think…” he manages to grit out, heady gaze flitting over to yours, “-that is a question my lovely wife and I must discuss first.”
Oh? 
And then, your back is hitting a plush mattress before you know it - long before the realization hits you that this bastard just fucking teleported the two of you to your bedroom. 
“T-Toru-” you sputter out, whatever reprimand getting stuck in your throat at how desperate Gojo was acting. Your uniform buttons hitting the floor as he rips open your shirt, hands bunching up your skirt, only having enough patience to just pull aside your soaked panties, rolling your pretty clit between two fingers. Needy. “The meeting-”
“The meeting isn’t here now, right?” 
Words so hoarse it takes you a moment to recognize it as your husband’s. You were only beginning to wonder just what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into when Gojo tugs down his pants just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free.
And oh then it makes sense. Because Gojo was so hard that it looked painful - so so red, and angry. Soaked in enough precum that it made a damp little patch on his trousers, heavy balls twitching at the mere sound of your voice.
“D-didn’t I say no sneaking out this time, Toru?” You buck into his touch, despite your words, eyes locked on the way Gojo stops toying with your clit to pool your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips.
“You did.” Raising his long, glossy fingers to those pretty pink lips, “But this is teleporting, not sneaking out, sweetheart.”
Gojo’s like a man possessed as he pops your slick-covered fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sinful taste. 
Gasping out a wet, “Fuck the ban. Can’t go without ya. Can’t-” One hand sliding his fat tip between your swollen folds, up and down up and down - spreading them apart, just barely dipping into your sloppy entrance. “-can’t live without this pretty cunt.”
And then it’s like something snaps - Gojo’s patience, his sanity, the last of his restraint as he sinks his throbbing cock into your plushy walls. 
Pushing past that first, tight ring of muscle, and at the first feeling of your gummy walls milking his cock, he pants out a strained, “Fuck- oh fuck fuck fuck, yer the stuff of dreams, my girl. This cunt- ngh-” Pushing your legs further apart, fingers back on your clit “-would’ve fucked this cunt right in ah- front of those old toads. But, you’re lucky I’m a jealous man.”
“Oh- oh my god, s’too- too- big!”
God, you needed to spread your legs more - as if they weren’t being folded apart so easily by a delirious Gojo - maybe breathe, try to relax because Gojo was so big. And so unforgiving. 
Feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs as he thrusts in quick, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside your snug cunt. Jagged - like he was fighting with some absolutely, depraved, feral part of himself. 
You can feel the way your hips are torn between pushing away and grinding back down for more more more- And Gojo can, too.
“No-” he hisses. Brows scrunching in frustration, hips becoming more and more sloppy - frenzied. “No no no no no- hold on, sweetheart. Need this, need this so bad.”
Going faster. 
Deeper. 
You sob, ankles locking around his slutty waist. “B-but Toru-” You make a feeble last attempt at regaining your sanity. Your entire body jolting as Gojo presses so hard on your clit. “-we should ngh- hurry up. W-we’ll be late to the meeting-”
But does it really matter? Gojo doesn’t think so, not when he finally bottoms out in one, rough thrust. Groaning as his sensitive balls smack your ass.
Your cunt so slutty and tight - sucking him up so good despite your cute lil’ pleas about something stupid like “responsibilities”. 
So he really can’t help the way he wastes no time before reeling his hips back - all the way till his weeping tip is just kissing your sloppy hole. Before fucking into you completely - rough. Unrestrained. The same way he imagined taking you on that meeting room table. Over and over and-
“Not yet.” he grins against your lips, “We’re not done discussing the recent increase in curse sightings.”
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A/N. Gojo’s came out toooo long I don’t even like this man fr (loud incorrect buzzer).
Plagiarism not authorized.
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littlelamy · 1 month ago
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showering with rafe
steam filled the bathroom, fogging up the mirror as you stood under the warm spray of the shower. you felt rafe’s arms snake around your waist from behind, pulling you close against his chest. his lips found the curve of your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses along your skin as you shivered under the warmth of his touch.
“i thought you said you wouldn’t take forever in here,” he teased, his voice a playful murmur against your neck.
“could say the same about you,” you shot back, smiling as his arms tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.
he chuckled, reaching for the body wash and squeezing some into his hands, lathering it between his fingers before smoothing it over your shoulders and collarbone. his hands moved slowly, almost teasingly, as he worked the soap into your skin, the bubbles foaming under his touch. you leaned into him, eyes closing as he drifted lower, his hand moving over the curve of your chest.
his touch lingered, and a smile tugged at his lips as he let his fingers brush gently over your nipple, his thumb circling with a playful, gentle pressure. your breath hitched, and he tilted his head to press a soft kiss to your shoulder, whispering, “just making sure you’re really clean.”
you bit your lip, feeling warmth bloom across your skin, but couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. rafe’s hands continued their careful path, sliding the soapy lather over your skin, each movement deliberate yet affectionate.
“you don’t have to spoil me, you know,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper.
“i like taking care of you,” he whispered back, his voice soft but intense. he turned you to face him, hands resting on your shoulders as he rinsed the soap away, water spilling down your back. his eyes met yours, a mixture of playful and adoring, his hands lingering as he tilted your face up.
you reached for the body wash, feeling a little mischievous as you lathered your hands and pressed your palms to his chest, spreading the soap over his skin with a light, teasing touch. his breath hitched, his hands finding your waist again, grounding you as you trailed your fingers over his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles.
“are you trying to distract me?” he smirked, catching your hands and pulling you against him, water cascading down around you both as you met his gaze.
“maybe,” you admitted, grinning as he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. his lips found yours, soft and warm, moving slowly and gently at first, savoring the moment before deepening the kiss.
one of his hands slid up to cup your face, the other wrapping around your waist, holding you steady as the world seemed to dissolve into just the two of you. your fingers threaded through his damp hair, tugging him closer, and he responded with a low hum, kissing you like he had all the time in the world.
you pulled back, breathless, leaning your forehead against his, both of you smiling, caught up in the quiet, intimate moment. he brushed a thumb over your cheek, looking at you with a soft expression you rarely got to see, and it made your heart skip.
“guess this wasn’t such a bad idea,” he murmured, chuckling as you playfully splashed him.
“yeah,” you whispered, resting your head on his chest, “not a bad idea at all.”
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser
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ervotica · 1 year ago
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please don’t go, i love you so
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pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey
note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!
hunger games masterlist
Coriolanus is possessive.
It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.
It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.
It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.
He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.
There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.
You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”
His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.
“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.
He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.
“Nothing. I have you.”
“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”
He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.
“Coryo,” you pant.
“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.
“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.
You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”
The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.
“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”
“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”
“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.
“Wanna show me just where you belong?”
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wyvernest · 1 year ago
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mating szn
PART 2‼️ (part 1)
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pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: horny miguel, smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected p-i-v, breeding kink, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating, descriptions of oral sex (f!receiving), rough sex
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
Stumbling and yelping in sync with his heavy footsteps catching up fast, you reach the first floor.
Before you get to offer yourself a fraction of a second to decide your next move, the hallway carpet curls up under your feet, slipping behind as your arms instinctively shoot forward for you to catch yourself.
Bringing one knee to your chest, you're prepared to launch yourself forward like an olympic runner. 
Too bad.
Miguel's broad hands grip your waist from behind, once again sending jolts of adrenaline throughout your entire system.
You scream in delight through playful giggles, calling out his name breathlessly and maliciously arching into his hold. 
You're getting wetter by the second seeing just how horny he is.
He pushes you down, forcing you on both knees. The deep pants from the chase quickly turn into something else as you feel his weight on your back, feel him get on one knee behind you. 
His grip on your waist tightens. He brings his crotch up to your ass, grinding his erection up and down your clothed slit.
His hips roll slowly, rubbing the thick shaft of his hard-on lazily and mindlessly, the motions shallow and enticing.
"Ah, come on, baby", He leans forward, nuzzling his face into your soft hair, basking in the slightly-sweet, flowery scent of your shampoo. With a messy kiss to your neck, he speaks, raspy with need,
"Can't help it." More wet, sloppy kisses to your neck, more thrusts of his rock hard cock against your drenched folds through the thin material of your panties and his boxers. "I need, I need - ugh" the words fail to form as his hot breath hits the back of your neck, followed by more kisses and bites.
He brings a hand to the meat of your right thigh, grabbing harshly. He then lets it slip up over the mound of your pussy, cupping you and pushing two fingers over your folds, still stopped by your panties. You shiver at the feeling of his huge, warm palm touching your core so pervertedly, so desperately. 
He can feel the wet patch on the cotton fabric, proof of reciprocated desire.
His senses once again catch the unmistakable, ever so dearly intoxicating aroma of you, so ready for him. His eyes roll back with a silent inhale, his bare chest rising and falling on your back. 
He wants nothing more than to bury his face between your plush thighs and lap at your essence, pussy-drunk and keen on overstimulating you; licking and sucking at your clit, circling around your damp folds with his tongue until you're pushing him away, begging for a break, swollen and exhausted.
He can almost imagine you, tangling your fingers in his hair, pushing and pulling, either smothering him into your velvety cunt, needy and on the edge, or trying to escape his grip. He'd only hold you down, burly arms curling around your legs, just so he could make you come again, to feel you pulsate, feel your juices coat his mouth.
But with the way his cock twitches, begging for friction and stimulation, he can't think straight. 
He feels an overwhelming urge to shove himself inside you and fill you with his cum, to see his cock rearranging your guts through your belly, to empty his balls in your womb and watch his seed dribble out of you, and push it back in with his still hard cock, hold it there so that it takes.
His warm, eager hands travel down to your panties, and in their loose hold as he attempts to drag them down your thighs, you once again snake away, giggling with a sardonic grin that doesn't do well in covering up the desire evident on your features.
"¡Mierda!" He grunts, and you enter the bedroom, reaching the balcony door and turning around. You catch the sight of Miguel clawing at the door frame to take the turn and come in faster. 
Before you can react and take your eyes off the enormous bulge in his shorts, the defined shape of his dick protruding erotically against the material, he pounces, caging you against the wall, distancing your legs far apart with one knee.
His palms slip to your sides, not missing the savory opportunity to settle on the sides of your tits. He fondles their softness with the heels of his hands, pushing them together, pressing his whole body into yours.
You let out a barely audible moan as he corners you, almost squeezing you between his muscular frame and the wall behind you, and he almost loses all that's left of his sanity.
He kisses your temple, full of yearning. Although, he's instantly reminded that his scent has worn off of your feverish skin.  
"Por favor,-" a deep groan vibrates in his chest against you, making you quiver.
"He estado cachondo todo el día," (I've been horny all day). He holds you tight against him, your tender breasts pressed flush against his pecs.
"No podía pensar en nada más que en ti" (I couldn't think of anything but you.) 
You finally give in and offer a smidge of relief, sliding your hand down to grab his clothed hard cock. The second he feels you palm him tentatively, he reflexively starts rubbing himself on your hand like an animal in heat, groaning ruggedly.
"That's it." He rasps, fed up, and it's almost a threat.
He slowly walks over to the bed with you secure in his arms, but when his knees hit the frame, he doesn't drop you like he normally would. No. He's not giving you another chance to flee. A part of him loves the cat-and-mouse game he knows you enjoy so much, but the other part can already feel his fat, full balls turning blue.
Placing you down, hands still gripping your waist viciously, he gets on the bed, the mattress sinking down under his weight.
You feel your clit throb as he traps you with his thighs, taking your shirt off. His touch leaves goosebumps over your silky skin.
Under your hazy gaze fixed on his movements, he hovers above you, skipping the usual looks of adoration. Not that the sentiments were gone by any means, but he was far too needy to wait any longer.
The kiss he suffocates you with is fiery, full of all the pent up tension he had to endure.
As his mouth moves against yours eagerly and messily, you notice how it lacks his characteristic expert, methodical approach.
His lips were just as soft as ever, but devoured your every moan and breath with a fervor unfamiliar. His tongue slips past the liplock, dominating you in no time, and right when you start to adjust to the new strategy, catching up with his movements, he parts from you, breaking the kiss and sucking your soul out of you with it.
He continues his attack down your throat, biting and licking hurriedly, marking you as his. 
Groaning freely, he reaches your breasts, taking them in his mouth, one after the other. His hands squeeze, roam and play with them, making you bite down on your lower lip and whine beneath him.
He suckles on the perked nipples, releasing them to catch his breath with another gravel moan. When he's done, your chest is coated in his spit; fresh, hickies already blooming over your tender tits.
The weight of his cock settles on your thigh, pressed snugly and oozing precum through a dark spot on his boxers. 
Your own hands attach to his silky dark hair, caressing and brushing wild strands away from his forehead, clinging and pulling occasionally when he latches onto your breasts again after taking a few deep breaths.
Sliding lower, impatiently licking and biting over the line of your stomach, he finally gets to your panties. 
He kisses the soft lips of your pussy through the fabric, the scent of your arousal driving him mad. He groans again, words slurred through the desperate, obscene licks, "Eres.." He extends his tongue, lapping up at the dampness, "..tan bonita." (You're so pretty)
Your heels are digging into his shoulder blades as you squirm and moan under his sultry touch. Through half lidded eyes, you see him bare his pearl white fangs, as if prepared to sink them into your sensitive skin.
You gasp, a little above a moan.
"Miguel! Don't - ah" You whimper as he grits his teeth around the elastic of your panties, tearing them in two with the help of one hand.
He grabs your thighs, kneeling between your legs.
Shoving his hand in his shorts, he takes his dick out, its mushroom head glistening mauve. He begins to stroke it more violently than you thought he would've taken pleasure in.
Mouth agape, pupils blown wide, he looks downright primal. Solely focused on claiming you, on stuffing you full of his potent seed, of draining his fat balls in your warm cunt until you're begging him to stop through ablaze overstimulation.
Cock in hand, incontestably massive encompassed by his proportionally large fingers, he slaps the hard, angered, heavy shaft on your tender folds, groaning at the wet sound of flesh against flesh. He rubs it over your lips, drenching it in your juices.
You notice his thighs flex, already insanely sensitive. When he eases the head in, he moans, rough and low in his throat, brows creased in pained pleasure. You whimper his name, legs quivering faintly on each side of his waist.
Using his weight to press your body down into the mattress, forcing you onto him, he slides his arms underneath your knees, throwing them over his shoulders and bending you in half.
A shiver bursts through you at the sensation. You clench around him, forcing a strangled groan out of his throat.
He braces himself down on his forearms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. Pushing in, the bulbous tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he bottoms out and gets straight to a tireless pace, not giving you the ritualistic second to adjust. 
The bed creaks and squeaks with the way he's throwing himself into your cunt, pounding you into the soft cushions relentlessly. 
His hips gyrate roughly against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you, dipping his meaty cock in your juices with an obscene, wet squelching, finishing each delicious swing with a quicker entry, more forceful and animalistic. His pubes brush harshly against your engorged, swollen clit, sending jolts of electricity through your core.
Skipping the tension, the build-up of speed, he drives straight to the euphoric rhythm of a release chase. His balls slap onto your ass, his pelvic bone nearly delivering bruising slams against your own.
“Ugh, oh Miguel-,” you gasp for more air, struggling to form a coherent sentence through delirium, your breaths and moans rhythmically timed by his rough thrusts. 
You curl your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back and shoulders. He looks down at you, watching your breasts bounce in his face, and starts rutting harder into you, every ridge and vein of his fat cock brushing against your sensitive spots perfectly.
Each time you call for him, it's a melody, a rapturous chant that has him on his knees, his mind in cobwebs, his heart aching; and for the time being, his cock throbbing as well.
"I'm - ah! Cumming!Ugh, M- Mig- uel- !" You moan sharply, your orgasm rapidly threatening to burst like fireworks.
He frowns, panting, shallow breaths hot over your face. You convulse under his massive body, arching your back, squeezing your tits flush against his feverish skin. 
He feels your pussy flutter around his cock, milking him and sucking him in. He groans loudly in your ear, pace faltering ever so slightly. The headboard of the bed keeps slamming against the room wall, spurring your orgasm on with the reminder of the force of the man above you.
With one final thrust, his whole body tenses. He pushes forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, dumping his load in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips. You feel his dick pulsate inside you with each new spurt of cum, the remnants of your own climax making you clench around him reflexively.
He stills, relief washing over him. Meeting your gaze, he watches how you come back to your senses, the blinding lust replaced by love and admiration.
He grabs your waist and pulls you down with him, laying you on his chest, his softening cock still inside you.
You close your eyes, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Dinner long forgotten.
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divider by @cafekitsune
a/n: did my best here. the tags deadass took longer than the writing
TAGS
@thel0velykey190 @allysunny @weirdothatwritess @animechick93 @6thhokageswife @spookydragonsong @aisyakirmann @playmatenextdoor @skulfan1 @sat10 @2joos2cry @2099hitmylineyline @aiyaaayei @holographicang3l @heartfairy @cyberbugg @freehentai @acrazybiotch374 @theywhowriteandknowthings @shinyberry69 @pluviophilis @barely-thriving23 @realalpacorn @thekidscallmebosss @hrlzy @m4dyy @cringeycookies @tendoswifi @greatheartattacks @reborn-rekall @darksidescorner @yehet-moi-ohorat @poeticmoonspirit @kth137
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nereidprinc3ss · 8 months ago
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in the dead of night
in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term) a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH
When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you. 
Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid. 
God, he loves you. 
It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear. 
“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping. 
“Hm?” 
His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch. 
“Is this okay?”
You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest. 
“I need yes or no, angel.”
“Yes, please.”
The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience. 
“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand. 
“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers. 
“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”
“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”
Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion. 
“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath. 
He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them. 
The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine. 
“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”
“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”
He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual. 
“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”
The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”
“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”
He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours. 
“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”
“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine. 
“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”
That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back. 
“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”
“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”
It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation. 
“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”
“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?”
“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak. 
“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”
You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape. 
“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing. 
“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”
“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back. 
“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”
“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”
“Why not?”
You huff.
“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”
“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we’ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”
You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening. 
“No! I take it back.”
“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”
The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”
“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”
“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”
That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.
“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”
A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago. 
“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”
“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”
You laugh. 
Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep. 
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response. 
He loves it when you do that. 
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dollfacefantasy · 1 month ago
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kinktober day 12 - cockwarming dick grayson x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cockwarming, praise/degradation
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"Ah, ah, ah. No moving, baby. That was the deal, remember?" your boyfriend coos from behind you.
Your velvety walls flutter around him, all your other muscles going taut with frustration. Tilting your head back, a whimper echoes from you.
Right now, he was really living up to his name.
"Pleaseeeee, Dick," you whine. A pout forms on your lips even though he wouldn't be able to see it from this angle.
"No," he laughs and pats your ass, "You said this would be enough for you. That you didn't need strenuous activity to feel good."
He was laying in bed, as the doctor (Alfred) had ordered. A pile of plush pillows pile behind him, keeping his bruised face elevated. More cuts and scrapes littered his chest and abs and mark up those beautiful muscles with remnants of the pain he'd endured. You sat on his lap facing away from him, his cock buried inside you.
Last week, he had a pretty rough night. On patrol, some guys got the jump on him, had some weapons he'd never encountered or something like that. It was hard to understand the story with the way he'd mumbled it out when he came home barely conscious. The state he was in scared the life out of you. You called Alfred in tears, sobbing into the phone about how you thought Dick was gonna die on the floor of your kitchen.
As it turned out, he was fine. Totally fine by now, which was why you felt comfortable rubbing up on him and snaking your hand down south to the waistband of his loose sweatpants. It had been over a week since Alfred told him to get some rest, and he had no real injuries. He just loved to tease you, so he insisted sex was still beyond the limitations of his current physical capabilities.
He made you BEG to even sit here with him inside you. You hoped that would convince him to take it easy on you for the rest of this, but clearly, you'd overestimated your boyfriend's compassion.
"Why? You don't even have to move," you plead.
You don't have to see his face to know the gleam of amusement his eyes hold and the smirk that spreads over his lips.
"Sure, sure. Cause you never get tired halfway through being on top and start whining for me to take over," he mocks, "I know that'd be the next thing you ask for."
"I won't," you defend, "Please just let me move... I need it."
You look over your shoulder now and catch sight of the stupid look you'd envisioned in your head. Those pretty blue eyes gaze up at you, his ego clear in each cerulean fleck. His hands below knead the soft muscles of your ass. They dig into the flesh and rub at your thighs too. The touches send tingles straight to the pit of your belly, more arousal leaking from you in response.
"I don't know... It's bad enough you're not letting me rest properly, but now this? Seems like you're asking for a lot," he goads.
Anguish plumes in your chest. You nearly topple forward and smoosh your face into the blankets, the urge to kick and pound your fists on the bed insurmountable. Instead, your hands clasp around his meaty thighs. You squeeze as if that could give you the will to remain motionless. If you moved before he gave you permission, you weren't sure you'd see another orgasm this year.
"Dick, come on," you beg, head hanging, "Why do you hate me?"
That gets a hearty laugh out of him. His palms smooth up your sides to hold your waist.
"Don't try to guilt trip me, babe. You're not very good at it," he says. The pads of his fingertips massage your curves in tiny strokes. "You can wait a little longer."
"You've already made me wait so long. It hurts," you plead. If guilt wouldn't work, maybe sympathy will.
"Oh, does it? I think that's just your pride, sweetheart. You're acting so pathetic for me right now," he teases.
You didn't know what to try next. More broken cries tumble from your lips. In truth, waiting didn't hurt, but it was growing uncomfortable. The slick between your legs was sticky, and you wanted to get away from it by bouncing up and down. His length had been sitting inside you for so long it felt like a word you'd said too many times. The only way to forget about it would be to fuck yourself silly on top of him.
But he stays true to his word. He makes you wait. You sit on top of him for you don't even know how long. Occasionally, he shifts his hips, acting as if he just needs to get comfortable; the motion strikes one of your pleasure spots every time though.
You bite your lip, trying to not lose it. If this continued at this rate, you'd be in tears soon, which you really wanted to avoid as they would only make him more merciless.
Regardless of your wishes though, you can feel them starting to bloom in your eyes. Frustration burns like fire in your lungs. You turn your head to look at him again, wanting to try one more time to reason before you fully break down.
That plan goes out the window though when you see this man on his phone. He lounges there, scrolling through whatever without a care in the world.
"Dick!" you cry, a couple tears spilling over your water line.
His eyes flit up to your face just as your arm swings back to swat him. He catches your wrist, amusement pulling at his lips.
"Swinging at me when I'm wounded?" he mocks.
He softens the smallest bit when he sees the tears, bringing his hand up to swipe them away with his thumb. You sniffle at the gesture. Your lip wobbles with the desire to unleash more humiliating noises.
"What're the tears for, pretty girl? You really wanna move that bad?" he croons, dragging the bow of his index finger down your jawline.
You nod, eyes casting down in shame.
Knowing laughter bubbles up from his lips. His finger tilts your chin upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes.
"Let me hear you ask nicely one more time," he says.
You almost crumble on top of him right then, but you can't lose it when you're so close. With a deep inhale, you suck it up and bat your eyes a few times.
"Please?"
He grins at you and taps your hip. "Turn around for me and then go ahead."
Eager as can be, you clamber around and situate yourself so that you're facing him. Your legs quiver. It felt unusual to move after being full and seated for a while. When you're settled, plush thighs pressed against his sculpted sides, you plant your hands on his chest.
You don't waste time before rising up and sinking back down. A strangled moan falls from your lips at the relief. Some of the tension that had webbed up in the pit of your belly begins to loosen as you bounce.
His hands land on your hips, guiding your movements into a steady rhythm. You can tell he's enjoying it too from how he sighs and the way his jaw clenches.
"That's it. Worth the wait?" he asks.
"Mhm," you whimper.
Your ass smacks against his pelvis over and over. The sound of skin on skin fills the bedroom along with your combined grunting and moaning. You roll your hips, getting him as deep as possible. Your spine arches in tandem with your head falling back.
He takes advantage of the view you're giving him, one of his hands rising to grope at your breast. His fingers cradle the mound as the rest of you continues rutting on top of him. He flicks your nipple with his thumb, tearing more mewls from your lips with the bursts of sensation.
"Look at you, going dumb already. You're that needy for me?" he mocks, giving your stiffened bud a little pinch.
You yelp and nod, not bothering to defend yourself.
Your noises increase in volume as you continue to ride. Breathing likens into panting while shudders overcome your body. All of you convulses with each jump of your hips. It's getting harder to keep the pace, but you don't want to admit that. You don't want to prove him right.
It doesn't matter if you want that though because he can tell. He can see your motions getting jerkier. He feels the way your walls tighten around him with abandon.
To try and help you a little, he digs his heels into the mattress and thrusts up. Happy moans echo from you, your lips widening into a smile. He can't help but match the expression. This was his favorite sight in the world, his pretty girl blissed out. Nothing on your mind but him.
Without waiting for you to say the word, he boosts you up and flips you onto your back on the mattress. He springs to his feet beside the bed. Pulling you by your hips, your pelvises meet at the edge, and he takes over thrusting.
His fingers press into your inner thighs as he maintains his grip. He plows into you faster than you had been going on top. Leaning forward, he bends you in half. Your thighs press against your chest. His body heat oozes all over you.
This position lets him slide deeper inside you than before. Each rock of his hips nudges his tip against a spot that makes you cry out. You would be seeing stars if not for the fact that your eyes are rolling back.
"So fucking greedy," he croons, "Always wanting more than you can take."
You whine in protest, hips weakly squirming under the weight of him. Blinking yourself back into focus, you try to conjure words to argue that you could take it. That he's the one who flipped you over.
But all you can muster is a pouty "You're so mean to me."
He laughs in your face before smacking a kiss on your quivering frown. "You love it. Being nice doesn't ever get you so wet," he mocks.
You can't help the way your cunt clenches around him at that, sucking him in further. He hisses in response and presses down on your legs harder. He's as far in you as can be now. Every thrust fills you up just how you like.
"Mhm, there you go. Nice and tight for me, baby," he teases. One of his arms wraps around your leg to thumb at your clit. You squeal at the fiery sensation and writhe against the blankets so much you may get friction burn.
He chuckles and continues speaking. "I'm only mean cause I have to be. If I let you have it your way, I don't think you'd ever get anything done. You're such a little slut. You want my cock all. the. time," he says, punctuating the last three words with particularly brutal thrusts.
Crying out, you nod. You just agree with what he's saying, not really taking in a word of it. As long as he didn't stop, you were content.
He continues slamming himself against you. The bed creaks from his rapid pace.
Your mouth hangs open at this point. Unfiltered sounds come out while he grits his teeth above you. His thumb keeps swirling over your sensitive little bundle of nerves all the while, dragging you closer to the edge.
"Dick!" you wail.
The hand on your clit leaves and clamps over your mouth instead. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his breaths fanning over your face.
"If you get us a noise complaint, you're gonna get used to just sitting on my cock," he says, "I won't go easy on you next time. You can cry all you want to, and it won't change a thing."
Your eyes flutter with lust. He could be so annoying, but fuck, you loved it. You knew Dick wasn't one for idle threats either. He'd have you sit on his lap all full and fidgety for hours if he wanted.
The image is all you need to spur you to the finish line. Your hips buck up against his, shaking violently as they seek out more pleasure.
He feels the way you tighten and release, massaging his shaft and beckoning him to do the same. A few thrusts later he gives in to the temptation. He drains himself inside you. Rope after rope of hot, sticky cum floods into your cunt. His head drops against your neck, silky black locks damp with sweat against your skin.
Both of you finish out with a few more lazy movements. In the afterglow of your passion, he lingers on top of you for a few more moments. His body remains dead weight, melted against your own.
When he finally finds the will to move, he kisses a trail from your shoulder up to your lips. The tender exchange makes the feel of him pulling out more bearable. Maybe he was right, maybe you are a little greedy. You'd just had him for all that time, but you still didn't want it to be over.
Either way, he flops down next to you. The teasing is gone from his eyes for now. His pupils hold a genuine look of adoration similar to the feeling in your chest. It's only a brief eclipse though because his mocking returns as he leans in to nip at your cheek.
"I think you cured me, babe. I'm feeling much better now," he says with his usual cocky smile.
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yawnderu · 9 months ago
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>Being invited to have sex on camera was never in Simon's plans or Part II of Simon being obsessed with a pornstar.
Half-lidded brown eyes struggle to focus on you, shivers running down his spine at image in front of him. You're riding his meaty, long cock on your feet, the sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs and your wet cunt mix in, forming a symphony he's never heard before.
His rough, calloused hands guide you up and down, feeling his numb nuts getting stickier as your cream leaks down his cock, perfect, pierced tits bouncing up and down right in front of his face. His eyes drift to the set up of cameras in different angles, all of them being displayed on a large TV as you record.
“Fuck, angel...” Simon grunts out, muscles bulging as he squeezes your pretty waist, trying his best not to cum yet despite how your experience mixes in with the desire, fucking him nice and hard, your hands using his hard chest as support.
He's barely lucid enough to push you off of his dick, registering your expression of surprise when he positions you in all fours, one of his warm hands coming up to make your back arch, getting a better look at your sopping, slutty cunt.
“Give 'em a good show.” He whispers only for you to hear, voice dripping with dominance. This is all he ever wanted; the chance to prove he could fuck you way better than any of your co-stars, better than any of the many people he's seen you fuck on social media.
His grip tightens on your waist, slamming into your needy cunt without a warning. He manages to catch the surprise on your pretty face first-hand, a small smirk forming beneath the mask when he sees you give the camera your trademark smile. Simon doesn't hold back, his thrusts aggressive and unrelenting, the natural curve of his cock hitting your spongy cervix in such a perfect angle that you're not even able to follow your regular dialogue.
“Harder...” You manage to moan out, a sharp gasp leaving your lips the moment the intensity in his thrusts builds up, becoming faster and more erratic. His hand snakes around your pretty throat, applying just enough pressure to add an extra edge of pleasure.
“Yeah...? Like that?” He growls in your ear, his voice low and thick with desire. You can barely nod your head, your hand coming up to hold his tattooed arm as he chokes you, holding you even closer to his imposing, burly body, his grip possessive and demanding. He can feel your walls tightening up around him, louder moans escaping your fucked-out body that only seem to encourage you to go harder.
“That's right, sweetheart...” Despite not being a porn actor, Simon's words contain a hint of affection that can't be denied by either of you, only making the tight knot in your stomach come undone. Your long nails grip the sheet, feeling the familiar sensation on your core before you're cumming all over his cock, coating every single inch in your needy juices.
Simon's thrusts become more intense when he realizes you're cumming, fully lost in the primal need to drag out your orgasm as he fucks you raw with pure hunger.
“Show 'em how much you love being fucked.” His hand drifts up to your jaw, applying light pressure and lifting your head up, making sure that your audience gets a perfect look at your face when you have a real orgasm for the first time on camera.
With his own words as the catalyst, Simon follows close after, his release washing over him with the intensity of a tidal wave, shooting ropes of thick, hot cum deep inside you.
Part I | Part III
taglist: @gazsdirtysocks @infpt-zylith @love-simon @chrishy973 @just-another-personal-side-blog @ghosmooth-operator @b100dr0t @bisky-business @watersquirtpewpewboomm @li85367 @thenonweeknd @jamesrifftapes @lastofabbyy @xxshadowbabexx @yumimak @cherryblossomandpeace @kodiackwrites @angelaut0matec @fell4fictionalman @winbinw
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gojoest · 4 months ago
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“there is never a moment in which i do not adore you” — g. satoru
established relationship, gn!reader, tooth rotting fluff bc i love him terribly and sickeningly, the title quote is from marie antoinette’s letter to axel von fersen, dividers by @/cafekitsune
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it is way past midnight when the door clicks open. your ears catch on the barely audible sound of keys being carefully placed on the counter.
satoru is home, finally — after a long day of duties, teaching, meetings and missions, he made it back to you.
and he is being quiet, stepping lightly and silently sneaking in — he doesn’t want to wake you up.
but you are awake anyway, curled up in your shared bed. the shirt he slept in last night clutched against your chest; it smells like him still, and it brings a sense of safety and comfort knowing that he was here this morning, wearing the cloth hugged between your arms; that he took it off and placed it there, on the bed, to wear again tonight.
you know before he makes his way to the bathroom for a quick shower to wash the weight of the day off his body, he will come to give you a kiss. he always does. his lips trace the skin on your cheek ever so delicately, in fact so delicately one could barely feel them even when awake.
but you know, you can feel his breath on you. because you are never sleeping when he does this — just pretending. and part of him knows it — he can easily tell if you’re in slumber or not based on your breathing patter alone that he came to know in his marrow — and his lips curl into a silent smile, soft and loving, grateful to have you wait for him. thankful that there is one person looking forward for his return. that there is a home he can go back to. that there is you.
maybe he also knows that you can never sleep without him. and that the bed feels like an unfamiliar place, the emptiness on the mattress — unnatural. that it makes you restless. that you toss and turn, similar to when you are laid on a new bed you’re not accustomed to, perhaps in someone else’s house or at a hotel, and you can’t fall asleep because it’s not your bed. that you wait, for him to come and make the bed familiar and warm, make it yours again.
maybe this is why he’s been coming back home earlier, or at least trying to, but it’s not always up to him.
“you’re back”, you mutter, turning around to catch him just as he was about to plant a soft peck on the side of your face but paused to take your scent into his lungs. your nose nuzzles against his, arm snaking around his neck and pulling him closer to draw his lips near yours, and the kiss both of you have longed to taste all day finally comes to light.
if yearning was a sound, it would be that of the air you both breath in from the closed space between your faces just the moment before the kiss. the air that enters through your nostrils and lets the scent of the other in, and once it reaches your senses it births a moan in your throats. like that of a thirsty man in the blazing hot desert tasting water for the first time in days.
“you are awake”, he pulls away, but remains connected with you. forehead glued to yours, blindfold off and eyes gazing softly into yours in the dark. he can see you perfectly, and he is afraid to blink. because anytime he does, it robs him of the time he could spend looking at you.
“i just happened to be”, you tell him, fingers gently scratching at his undercut, earning a soft hum from him followed by a “you’re a bad liar, but keep practicing”
you chuckle. he always sees through you.
satoru is leaning over you, avoiding to even sit by your side in his work clothes. the idea of possibly bringing residuals of the curses he’s exorcised that day into the place that he considers closest to heaven is just unacceptable to him. not that he’s ever admitted this, but it’s a pattern you’ve noticed.
but to you it doesn’t matter. you love the mess in him.
you wrap your other hand around him, an attempt to drag him into the bed. “come closer”, you coo.
he is resisting. “i need a shower first — i am sweaty. i smell bad”
“my satoru never smells bad”, you correct him.
he giggles. “you say that because i am your satoru”
“first, there’s no way you can ever be someone else’s satoru. second, please do not ruin my romantic moment — it’s rude”, you pout with a heavy sigh, but playfully.
this time he laughs — he’s missed this banter with you all day.
you can tell by the way his body shivers that he is wavering. his conscience might be in a dilemma right now whether he should break his rule just this once or not, but his muscles aren’t — they always lead him to you by default, like muscle memory. the fight is pointless. this one, he will lose. and he knows it.
and he caves.
the mattress sinks down as his massive self lays himself next to you, taking you into his arms. your forehead buried in his chest, his lips glued to the top of your head — you stay unmoving, in silence. in the dark, but in the warm — just breathing together.
a sigh breaks from his throat when you shift away from him. only slightly though — just to look at him.
“so— where was i before you interrupted my lovely speech”
“you were saying that your satoru never smells bad”, caressing your cheek he reminds you.
“right”, you nod, and then continue — “of course, it is because my satoru is mine — what a silly thing to state the obvious. but also because—“, you pause, charging your lips towards his, not to kiss. but to feed him your love, to pour it from your mouth and into his — “…because, there is never a moment in which i do not adore you”
a smile grows on your lips, but it isn’t your smile — you can feel his lips softly stretch against yours, curl up from the corners — it belongs to him.
and then the smile grows into a kiss, swallowing the love you give him. all of it, hungrily.
“i’ll take the day off tomorrow”, he pulls away, barely.
you smile, “i’ll make breakfast”
satoru thinks he got too lucky with you. and maybe he did.
but so did you, with him.
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xbellaxcarolinax · 1 year ago
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imagine Miguel and trying to stay quiet but he’s hell bent on getting you to make noise for him so he starts working HARDER and biting you to get you to moan for him — 🥵🥵🥵
Hope you like <3
NSFW under the cut
...
You wanted to scream, your throat tight with pressure.
You fought to keep it together, slapping a hand over your mouth while you obediently bounced on Miguel’s cock. This position was always a mission, your thighs spread a little too wide to accommodate him, his large cock reaching parts deep within you that you didn't know were possible. 
He had a bruising hold on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided you at the speed he wanted. 
“Too quiet,” he grunted in protest, eyes trained on your face, “you know I hate it when you’re quiet.” 
“Y-you know damn well why I’m quiet.” You argued weakly, your hands flying to grip his shoulders tightly, nails biting into his tanned skin. You tossed your head back at a particularly intense thrust, chest heaving and pussy throbbing with need and arousal. 
Miguel made a noise of disapproval at your words, brows furrowed as he concentrated, his hand now roaming to grasp one of your tits.
“Don’t care.” Of course, he didn’t.
You were in one of the restrooms at HQ, shoved into a stall that barely held enough space for the width of Miguel’s broad shoulders, let alone the both of you for a quick fuck session. It was a tight fit, even when he sat on the lid of the toilet, forcing you over his lap with a simple tug of your waist.
Not the most convenient place to be in a compromising position. 
“Y-you should,” you whimpered, biting your lip at the delicious stretch of him, “a-anyone could walk in and hear.”
“Don’t care,” he repeated roughly, his red eyes observing the way you were creaming over his cock, “wanna hear you.” He grabbed you by the nape suddenly, pressing you against him so that he had complete access to your pretty neck.
He began to nose at the skin, inhaling the scent of your floral perfume mixed with the sweat of the current activity, before sucking a bruise. You moaned as he nibbled at your neck, gently at first, tugging and licking before he got the mark to his desired shade. The area bloomed with color, bright red, and angry.
“That’s it,” he cooed, grinning against your neck when more whimpers fell from your lips, “let me hear you." You choked out a moan, biting your lip as he continued to spear you in all the right ways, his hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to easily lift you up, only to slam you back down again. 
You arms snaked around his sweat slicked shoulders, your fingers gripping his hair as you cried out—finally—your achy cunt coating you both in your slick.
"Fuck," you cried, your eyes glazing over with tears, his cock hitting the perfect spot, "M-miguel!"
He hummed, licking a stripe down your neck before sinking his fangs into you, piercing through your skin at a superficial level, but he knew it'd be enough.
You came with a loud moan, gushing all over his cock, your juices running down his length and over his thighs. He didn't stop bouncing you on his cock, chasing his own pleasure. Your slick pussy pulsated over him, the wetness helping to glide easily in and out of you. 
"Fuck," he groaned, licking the metallic taste off your neck as he came deep inside, shoving his hips tightly against yours, "goddamn."
You dropped your forehead on his shoulder, catching your breath. Your hips ached from the position and you knew you'd be feeling the ache of your muscles and cunt for a few days.
Miguel removed his hold from under your thighs, wrapping his arms around your waist. He felt your rapid heart beat on his chest and smiled, nuzzling his face in your hair. 
"Oi!" Hobie's distinct voice echoed into the restroom, "you both done havin' a shag?" You went rigid in Miguel's arms, shrinking against his chest in pure mortification.
"Fuck off, Hobie," Miguel growled, slamming a fist against the wall of the stall to make a point. 
"Just tryin' to wash my hands boss." he chuckled, his boots squeaking under the linoleum floors.  The faucet goes off for a moment, then the paper towel dispenser before Hobie leaves. "Clean up after yourselves, yeah?"
You groaned when you heard the bathroom door swing closed, keeping yourself tight against Miguel as if he’d shield you from the embarrassment. His cock was nestled comfortably inside you, some of his seed slipping out as it softened. 
“I hate you,” you said with no bite, your words muffled by his skin. You heard him breathe deeply before he pressed a kiss over your hair.
“I hate you, too.” He said affectionately.
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malavera · 4 months ago
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Cosplay (18+) — Hugh Jackman One Shot
pairing: hugh jackman x female reader
summary: Your hubby came home after filming one of the scenes for Deadpool & Wolverine with his costume on to surprise you
warning: SMUT! MDNI. PWP. Wolverine cosplay sex, unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, daddy kink, praise kink, the use of pet name bub (bubby / bubba)
a/n: i had this scenario every time i went to bed
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"Bub, I'm home! Where are you?"
"In the kitchen!" Your voice echoes through the house, a playful lilt in your tone as you rinse the last plate under the warm, soapy water. The clatter of dishes is almost soothing, a rhythm you've come to appreciate in the quiet moments.
But then, without warning, a pair of strong arms snake around your waist, pulling you into a firm, familiar embrace. The unexpected touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the roughness of his stubble grazing against the soft skin of your shoulder blade. His warmth envelops you, seeping through your clothes, and suddenly the kitchen feels too small, too intimate.
"You’ve eaten without me?" His voice is a low, teasing rumble against your ear, and you can’t help but smile, even as your heart races.
"Well, I figured you'd be late, so..." You trail off, your voice faltering as you quickly dry your hands on a nearby towel. But when you turn around, the air catches in your throat.
Standing before you, with that trademark smirk you know all too well, is your lover. But tonight, he’s not just himself—he’s transformed. Draped in the iconic yellow and blue, his muscles defined by the snug fabric of Wolverine's original suit, he embodies the fierce, feral energy of the comic book legend. His eyes flash with mischief, and the scowl he wears—so perfectly in character—sends a thrill through you.
You stare, wide-eyed, your breath hitching as the reality of the moment sets in. The air feels heavy, charged with anticipation, and your mouth goes dry as you try to swallow, your body betraying you. He steps closer, the leather of his costume creaking ever so slightly, and you know—this night is far from over.
"H-Hugh..." The name slips from your lips, barely a whisper, as you stare, utterly transfixed.
His grin widens, the mischievous glint in his eyes sharpening. "What's the matter, bub? Cat got your tongue?" His voice is a low, teasing growl, sending a jolt of excitement through you.
You stumble back, the cool edge of the kitchen counter pressing against your spine as he advances, his presence overwhelming, magnetic. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can't tear your eyes away from him—this man, your lover, transformed into something untamed, almost primal.
A nervous laugh escapes you, breathless and trembling. "You look... incredible." The words come out in a rush, your voice barely steady. He’s so close now, the scent of leather and cologne filling your senses, and you know there’s no turning back.
"C'mere.." He muttered, an arm snatching to hug your waist pulling you close to him before he tilted his head, enough so the pointy nose of the scowl wouldn't poke you, to pull you in for a hungry kiss. You gasp, trying to follow his rhythm.
Hugh grabs a handful of your hair, tugging it, earning a loud moan from you. As your mouth went agape that's his moment to shove his tongue deeper. The heated make out session sent you to heaven without realizing everything around you as you are now being seated on top of the kitchen counter, legs spread wide for him to stand in between them.
"You miss me bub?" Hugh asks in between the kiss.
"S'much, daddy." You mewled and he groaned.
"Please, daddy. Do something.. to me." You moaned.
"Yeah? What do you want daddy to do huh? Tell me." He's teasing you. He knows exactly what you need, it's your second favorite thing about him; his fingers. He's so good with it. The way he would put one in, and then shove the other, thrusting in and out of your glistening cunt. Your favorite part is when he curls them inside you before he repeatedly flicks them.
"Want your fingers, daddy."
"These fingers, baby?" He tilted his head, acting dumbfounded, as the tips of his finger made a circle against your clothed pussy. "Yeah?" He pressed the pad of his fingers right against your clothed clit.
"Ah.. Yes." You gasp, smiling.
"You're soaked already, bub. What's gotten you so eager for me? Is this the suit? Huh? You love seeing your daddy in his costume?" He taunted.
You can only nod as you enjoy the way his fingers rubbing your, still clothed, cunt. "Daddy, please. I've been good. I deserve this."
"Of course you do, baby." You gasp once you felt one of his fingers enter your throbbing cunt. You shrieked when you felt his other hand make a handful of your hair and tugged your head back, making you watch him.
"Look at me when I'm making you feel this good, bub." There goes the second finger, entering. And he does your favorite thing, finger-fucking you.
You whimpered, closing your eyes briefly. "Urgh.. Daddy you're so good.. You're so good with my pussy." Between the two of you here, you both have the praise kink. He's an actor, of course he loves being praised for his skills and performances. You both are a master at this department, though only your words can get him going.
"Yeah? Like that bub? Tell daddy how it feels... So good yeah?" He coo’ed.
"Yeah.. Yeah.. so good daddy, deeper.. OH!" You gasped out a loud moan at the end once you feel him pushing in his fingers deep into your cunt.
"Only my fingers can play with this cunt, right bub? My cunt." He grunted.
"Yes, yes daddy! It's your cunt!" You whimpered, feeling as you're about to reach your high; You gasp once more when he harshly tug his fingers out of your cunt, jolting your body forward.
"W-what.." You breathlessly said.
"You're gonna have to cum on my cock, bub." He hastily spoke as he tries to take his heavy cock out of his pants. Swallowing down your saliva, you watch as he give himself a couple of jerks before tapping his heavy cock against your pussy, indicating he’s about to go in. Not that he’d need your permission to.
Your mouth fell agape watching the big tip of his cock, slowly entering your soaked folds, feeling every inch of his cock going in even the raging veins felt like they’re scratching the insides of your warm cunt. Hugh roughly grabs you by your neck, forcing you to look him in the eyes that are covered with the wolverine scowl.
“Look at me when i’m fucking you, bub.” He harshly spoke as he starts to move his hips back and forth, gently at first before he picks up the pace, turning the peaceful atmosphere filled with your moaning mess.
You’d never imagine you’d see the night filled with Hugh fucking you on top of the kitchen island with his super hot wolverine costume on. All you could think about is how this costume would be the one where people all around the world would see later in the movie theater once it’s coming out. And the fact that he has fucked you in it, makes your pussy flutters as he is not stopping anytime soon. The nasty sound of your pussy milking his heavy cock that is formed from the mixed of your fluid fills the entire kitchen. And you wished you could watch yourself being fucked by the wolverine in third person’s point of view.
“What are you thinking about bub?” Hugh piston his hips to a certain angle which caused you to loudly moan. “You’re thinking about how good i’m fucking you right, bub? You never want me to stop right, honey?” Hugh coo’ed.
“N-no, daddy. I never want you to stop. I want you to make me cum, please it feels so good!” You cried, your hands went up to play with your tits.
“Oh yes, play with those tits bub. My tits. Fuck, this cunt is so good I can never get enough.” Hugh grunted. He pulls you closer to him making your hips lying at the edge of the counter.
All you wanted is to get him to cum deep inside you. You could feel the brush of his pubic hair from every stroke, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. You’re going to cum anytime soon. But something is growing inside you and it’s inching closer, any seconds now.
“W-wait, Daddy, stop, something’s wrong!” You shrieked.
And you know better from stoping your beloved from fucking you hard, he will never listen. But instead, he gripped your hips harder and thrusts his cock in and out of you with a godly fast pace.
“Fuck, fuck, Daddy!” You screamed as you forcefully pushing yourself away from him before you feel yourself reaching your high. You couldn’t contain it, it sprayed everywhere, even to his costume. Your thighs are shaking, your chest heaves up and down.
Hugh stood there groaning as he just witnessed his baby squirted out. “Fffuckk… Bub, that was amazing.” He muttered, but he’s not stopping there. He grabbed his cock, aiming the tip against your entrance, softly rubbing it against your hole first.
“W-wait, I don’t think I-..”
“Shut up, Bub. Daddy hasn’t cum yet.” He hissed as he pushed the tip of his cock into your entrance.
Your pussy purred, “Oh.” You gasped, feeling a little bit embarrassed. But, Hugh loved it.
“Do you think you can give it to me one more time bub? This time, squirt on my cock?”
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tonycries · 8 months ago
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Little Heaven
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Synopsis. He’s just your friend-with-benefits, right? So why - in the still haze of the soft sheets and you, fúcking you so sensual and tenderly - does he feel like he’s found his own personal heaven?
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, kinda fluffy, he’s both pússydrunk and in love, slow to rough, marking, mentions of marriage and kids, morning, swearing.
Word count. 1.3k
A/N. Probably the fluffiest smút I’ve ever written.
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You were just his friend-with-benefits, right? No strings attached, right? 
So why was he here? Sinking into your plush mattress, quiet morning sun just barely peeking in through the curtains as he wraps his arms around your naked figure. 
God, he really shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be laying you on your side, drinking in your soft little, “G’mornin’.” Both of your movements languid and still burning with soreness. Your hips pushing back desperately into his as he positions himself so that his leaking tip was just kissing your swollen folds. 
He shouldn’t be whispering soft kisses into the marks that littered your skin. Licking one, long stripe up the sinful trail of hickies down your neck. All sensual touches where it was bruising grips last night. 
That was rule #1, right? No marks. 
Or was it #4… 
Ah, right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. Not when his greedy eyes wander the expanse of your face, fingers trailing along the features he’s mapped a thousand times over. Tracing delicate patterns across your skin, snaking down, down, down to leisurely lift your leg a little higher. 
Bare chest warm against your back, his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he whispers, “I had a dream y’know.” 
Mind still thinly veiled with sleep, you lean into his warm touch, “Mhm?” 
Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip. Smearing your juices with his thumb as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good. You almost miss the way he buries his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring a soft “Had a dream of us.”
Oh? 
Before you can overthink his words, he’s nudging in gently. So agonizingly gentle. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. 
You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy and him. 
And it seems he was drunk on you just as much, because as soon as his hips are flush against yours, the words escape him. So quiet and groggy with sleep, that you almost don’t catch them.
“Had a dream that I made you my beautiful bride.”
Oh. 
That was new. His words hung heavy in the heady air. 
Shivers run down your spine - all the way to where he was buried in your dripping cunt. Your voice is slightly shaky as you let out a humorless laugh, “Oh yeah? Must’ve been a nightmare then.”
Soft lips press against your forehead, breathing in your scent. Absolutely searing as he mutters out a muffled, “No, was the best dream I ever had.”
And then, with the audacity of someone who didn’t just send your mind reeling, he pulls his hips back unhurriedly. Immediately fucking into you at a slow, sensual pace. Tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, making sure you feel every bump and graze against your tight walls.
You don’t know what’s more maddening - his agonizing pace or the words that tumble out of his lips. “Y’looked so beautiful in white. So pretty walking down the aisle to me.” 
His lips brush against yours, hands dancing across every inch of you he could reach. Gently caressing the skin like it’s something divine, soothing over the marks from last night as if an apology. “Don’ think I’d want to see anyone else there.”
You glance back at him - only to find his eyes already on you. A jolt of electricity runs across your skin at the pure warmth in them. And you realize that, no, this wasn’t a joke. 
Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply grind your hips down to meet his, abs rubbing against your ass. Letting out a broken whimper of what sounds like his name as he moves down a hand to press rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. 
“Saw a little something else too.” he hums, a sly smile curling his lips as his other hand dances across your body to press down on your stomach. Hard. “Saw that I had some competition - two actually. Funny, right?”
“Hah- h-hilarious.” you manage to choke out as his thumb speeds up on your clit, hips moving a bit more purposefully. A bit more like you were used to. Rock-hard cock plunging into your quivering cunt in deliberate, sloppy thrusts that have you white-knuckling the sheets. 
“Though…” he trails off dangerously, pulling back all the way until his furiously hard tip was just kissing your waiting hole. “I wouldn’t really mind.”
And with that he’s sheathing his throbbing erection in your wet pussy completely. A gasp of delight leaves him at the way you take him so readily. Walls sucking him up so sinfully - perfect. You were always so perfect for him. 
“Dreamt we had a lil’ house with a big garden.” God, he can feel his cock harden so painfully at the fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your pretty lips each time his hip smack into yours. It’s music to his ears, such a shame he just can’t shut the fuck up right now. “And then you dressed the kids up while I made breakfast.”
“Then you made us do taxes and I didn’t even fucking mind.” His voice is strained now, words slurring together as he rams his cock deeper and deeper, glistening with your slick in the soft morning glow. 
“And finally at night, I say we should make a third one.” 
He looks at you, a sly grin stretching his lips, eyes half-lidded and a dangerous twinkle in them that has you wondering whether everything he said before was merely a ruse to fuck you silly. And it probably shows on your face - because he grins lowly in your ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we have till our wedding night f’me to fuck you slow.”
And oh he almost feels guilty. But he can’t bring himself to slow down at the way your swollen lips drop into such a pretty oh! at his words. Mewling at the sting of his heavy balls as they smack your ass. Walls clamping down desperately on his dick, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy as he focuses on making you lose your mind. 
He shifts his angle slightly, grinding expertly against your g-spot just right, and you throw your head back, releasing a low moan of his name.
“Shit. Yeah, say m’name, sweetheart. Jus’ like that.” he moans breathlessly. 
His name - soon to be yours.
Maybe.
You turn your head to face him, eyes fiery as you capture his in an equally scorching kiss. Cock slamming into your poor, abused cunt with an intensity that matches that of your lips.
Probably. 
Biting down on his lower lips, soft yet insistent. Humming deliriously against his mouth - and in the heat of it all, he feels you smile against his lips. Ever-so-slightly. 
Definitely. 
And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure behind your eyes, walls clamping down so deliciously around his twitching cock. It sends him over the edge as well - whispering your name as if a prayer, voice hoarse with emotions neither of you could name at this very moment. 
Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your trembling cunt white, milking the soul out of him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forming around his base as some truly animalistic part of himself fucks his seed into you - a promise, he likes to think.
“I’m serious about the dream.”
Almost as gentle as that one. 
As the haze settles, his thrusts slowing down to just shallow grinds, a fragile silence envelopes the room as neither of you speak. Because maybe no other words were needed. 
And right now, morning sunlight harsh on his skin, strong arms pulling you warm body flush against his, no one but you two in this quiet world - he doesn’t think he’d like to be anywhere else.
All is well in your little heaven.
- GOJO, GETO, Choso, SUNA, ATSUMU, Tsukishima, Kuroo, EREN
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A/N. Bro it took longer to think of what to write than to write this. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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ilsanslut · 10 months ago
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proneboning—it’s HIS favorite position. there’s just something so very tantalizing about pinning you flush to whatever surface he can manage and completely ravishing you beneath him. and you? you love it just as much.
your pretty face pressed deeply into the sheets, leaving you to helplessly writhe and moan beneath the weight of your lover. your tiny fists fisting the sheets, bracing for every powerful, mind-numbing thrust as you feel his thick, heavy cock pounding the deepest depths within you. your shrill moans and pleasured wails becoming muffled by the duvet beneath you as you’re smothered beneath his hardy, masculine frame. you can feel his heavy weight and muscled chest boring down on your back, crushing and pinning you firmly into a mattress in such a delightful way as every one of his powerful, carnal thrusts, aided by gravity and his heft, pounds you further and further into submission—as if every singular one is bellowing MINE, MINE, MINE, from the lewd echos of your bedroom walls.
you can’t catch your breath, you can’t speak, you can’t even think. you’re reduced to a babbling mess, your weeps of sheer ecstasy matching that of your glistening, weeping cunt as it gushes around his thick shaft with every obscene clap of his pelvis PLAP, PLAP, PLAPPING against your bubbly ass.
“yeaah, that’s it.” you can barely make out his gruff voice as his lips press to the shell of your ear, his heavy pants mixing with near-feral growls as he struggles to maintain his own composure.
amidst his unforgiving pace, you feel his muscled forearm snaking around your waist, his meaty palm, and equally thick digits pressing against the fatty part of your lower belly to feel that prominent bulge that forms every time he bottoms out within you. “y’feel me in here too, princess? bullying that pretty womb of yours? haah, fuck. thaaat’s it. sing for me, angel. let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”
so you do. you cry, you shriek, you mewl—“singing” praises of his name, how big his cock is and how good his cock feels inside of you, how you can’t take it because it’s “too much," as well as contradictory pleas of him to slow down followed by depraved cries of “please, please, fuck me harder!”
that’s not good enough for him, though. c’mon, princess. use your dumb little brain. you think he can hear you when you're nose-deep in the sheets? don’t worry, he has a solution for that.
nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of a broad, bulging bicep snaking around your neck, the crease of its forearm and elbow resting tautly against your windpipe as he wrenched your head up from the sheets and began to squeeze. he balled the fist of his other hand and used his strength to pull back the latter, effectively locking you into an unforgiving headlock that made your toes curl and your heightened moans catch in your throat.
“say it again for me, pretty. y’like my fat cock fuckin’ you up? like me using you like the pretty pocket pussy you are? yeah? ngh, shit. c’mon, lighten up, princess, you’re chokin’ my dick here.”
“y-yes! yes, yes, yes! oh, f-fuck yess! m’gonna cum, hah, mpfh! m’gonna cum!!”
he raises himself onto his knees, caging your petite frame in between both of his muscular thighs as he pounds into you with more ferocity than before, like a ravenous predator claiming every ounce of his darling little prey. he was always so, so generous, most of the time. who was he to deny his little angel her precious orgasm?
“do it. c’mon, make a fuckin’ mess on my cock, you dumb slut.” he would snarl against you, his teeth and sharp canines grazing the shell of your ear.
you did so graciously; your moans mixed with babbles of useless speech along the lines of “thank you” and incoherent swears. your glassy eyes spilling with fat globs of tears that rolled down your cheeks could not register their surroundings, nor could your brain register him slamming his cock's head firmly against your squishy insides, pumping you to the brim with his virile seed that threatened to bloat your lil’ tummy.
he let you go in an instant, allowing your exhausted body to fall slack on the sheets before you, your head resting soundly on the crevice of his elbow between his bicep and forearm. he had yet to pull out of you, even after you had come down from your high, and his cock had long since ceased languidly pumping the ropes of his creamy, heavy seed deep inside of you.
“shh, i got you, angel.” he eased your twitchy frame and panting mewls with an affectionate, breathless kiss to your forehead.
“always such a good girl, f’me.”
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blue lock: KAISER MICHAEL. SHOEI BAROU. nagi seishiro. KUNIGAMI RENSUKE. itoshi sae. itoshi rin. KARASU TABITO. EGO JINPACHI. otoyo eita. OLIVER AIKU. isagi yoichi. BACHIRA MEGURU. RAICHI JINGO. LORENZO DON. SHIDOU RYUSEI. jujutsu kaisen: nanami kento. GETO SUGURU. kamo choso. FUSHIGURO TOJI. OH MY FUCKING GOD TOJI. SUKUNA. SUKUNA. SUKUNA PLEASE GOD SUKUNA. GOJO SATORU. mahito. HAKARI KINJI. todo aoi. zenin naoya. genshin impact: WRIOTHESLEY. CHILDE. ALHAITHAM. kamisato ayato. ragnvindr diluc. ARATAKI ITTO. tighnari. SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER. HEIZOU. IL DOTTORE. PANTALONE. kimetsu no yaiba: SHINAZUGAWA SANEMI. UZUI TENGEN. rengoku kyojuro. RENGOKU SHINJUROOOO. IGURO OBANAI. KIBUTSUJI MUZAN. akaza. kokoshibo. DOUMA. HANTENGU CLONES. GYUTARO, tokyo revengers: mitsuya takashi. KAWATA NAHOYAAAA. SHIBA TAIJU. BAJI KEISUKE. HANEMIYA KAZUTORA. haitani rindou. HAITANI RAN. RYUGUJI KEN. sano manjiro. SANZU HARUCHIYO. akashi takeomi. imaushi wakasa. TERANO SOUTH. sano sinichiro. HANMA SHUUJI.
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ⓒ vampiie 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.
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