#crazy laser move

[korbyxd]

To wish to become stronger, is to face The Greatest Warrior in the Galaxy...

Meta Knight vs. Galacta Knight

[wu-does-art]

au where mike narrowly escapes the upsidedown while on patrol and gets an obscure curse to be a catboy for a month. this is amusing to everyone but mike.

[inbabylontheywept]

Soviet Birds.

The secret facility that I work in has holes in the ceiling. We don't know how to get them fixed.

We tried asking the government to fix it, once. We told them that the holes in the older parts of the facility had gotten large enough to fit birds through, and that birds were getting through, and that, perhaps, a Soviet Spy could fit through as well.

After all, it is well known that Soviet Spies and pigeons are approximately the same diameter.

Our hope was that that this vague and nonsensical threat would put a little fire under Uncle Sam's feet. If the fed couldn't be bothered to give a shit about the giant gaping holes in the roof of our facility, perhaps they could be persuaded to give a shit about... Soviet Spies.

This attempt at manipulation 100% blew up in our faces.

See, the government does not need to be persuaded to give a shit about Soviet Spies. It still wakes up most nights, drenched in cold sweat, terrified and confident that a Soviet Spy is hiding in their nightstand. If it sees a rock on the ground, it flips it over, pistol drawn, ready to shoot the Soviet Spy it fully expects to slither out from underneath. Which is to say: The government is crazy. So when we dropped those two words - inflitration risk - in the repair request, they came in guns-a-blazin'.

Does that mean that they fixed the roof? Of course not. Don't be stupid. No, instead of performing basic maintenance, they installed a state of the art alarm system throughout the facility - lasers, sonar, the works - and told us to always be on the guard. Because of the roof holes.

Then they left.

So now we had an extremely good alarm system... and birds. Which have combined in incredibly obvious and predictable ways to produce an unending fountain of problems.

For Example: About once a month, someone gets called in by the local airforce dispatch because AAAAAAAAAAA a Spy is in the Rad Lab! We're all gonna die! Except every time, it's a bird. And I get why we have to check, but every time, the dispatcher is panicked and the person going out has to be like listen, listen: It's a bird. It's always a bird. It's been a bird every month for the last fifteen years. It will be a bird next month. All this stress? Bad for your heart.

Second Example: Sometimes, birds get in while we're actually working. And when it's in the morning, you know, it's a nuisance, and it stops testing (we are not going to risk irradiating a bird) but it's not an all-hands-on-deck situation because it doesn't take ten hours to get a bird out. But surprisingly often, the bird gets in riiiiight at closing time, and in that situation, everyone goes feral because nobody can leave until the alarm is set, and we cannot set the alarm while the bird is there, because the bird would immediately trigger it and then we'd have to stay another 4 hours to confirm that it was not a Soviet Bird.

So in order to go home, everyone's top priority is Get That Bird. And we have a system for it.

Step 1: The test stands tend to be located in rooms with 30+ foot ceilings. We can't catch birds in places like that - so we have to lure the bird into the relatively low ceilinged (8 feet only) upper offices.

We do this by turning all the lights off in the test rooms, then putting floodlights by the exits. I don't know why this works - some kind of evolutionary brain fragment shared by both Bugs and Birds - but work it does. The birds almost always follow after the lights. From there, it’s just two guys moving the floodlight and a third guy to turn off the lights.

Step 2: Everyone else has been waiting for this step. There is this long stairway up from the basement level into the offices, and in the final stage, the floodlights are brought to the base of the stairwell to bring the bird up. At the top of the steps there will be a group of tennish people, waiting for the signal. The light guys will set up the final transfer, everyone will tense, and then, swish...a bird will flit up the stairs and into the offices.

It's like watching werewolves on a full moon. Before the bird cometh, we are engineers. Nerds. Pale and skinny things, trembling under the fluorescent lights. After the bird, we are beasts. Feral, gnawing things, glowing under the orange sunrise of the 70's halogen floodlights.

And like all beasts, we cannot help but give chase.

Step 3: The were-engineers begin the hunt. The goal at the start is not really to catch the bird - just exhaust it. So the pack simply does not relent. Because the stakes are going home on time, the group is basically given free reign to go anywhere in the building. If someone's door is open, and the bird goes inside, they're going to have to deal with ten sweaty panting maniacs leaping around their office. They don't get to say that they're busy, or remark on how all this movement is a terrible distraction. They are allowed to sit in silence during the chaos, and perhaps thank the war party for chasing the bird while they sat comfortably on their ass. This has been explained several times, and it will continue to be explained until cooperation is achieved.

Anyway.

The chase can go on for quite some time. Sometimes, the bird will get tired and find a crevice to hide in, where it can then be reached through standard cornered-bird catching techniques.

Other times, it will slow down enough that someone can actually yoink it out of the air. But this will go on until someone catches the bird and triggers Step 4.

Step 4: The Finale. This is the get-the-bird-out-of-the-building stage, and it requires someone to adopt a specific role: To Become the Sacrificial Vessel of Bird Removal.

This job is both coveted and feared. It's coveted, because holding a wild bird in one's hands is a precious thing. To feel how small, and fragile, and scared it is, only to free it from the building? That is what it's like to be a benevolent God. But the cost! Oh, the cost. The entire time the Vessel is in motion, the bird will be biting the hell out of their fingers. And I cannot emphasize enough just how painful bird bites are. Their entire face is a set of needle posed pliers, and they know tricks the even the cartels haven't figured out yet. So there's always a little hubbub about who shall be The Vessel while onlookers, stranded outside The Office of Bird Capture, can only look on. Quiet arguments and pleas are heard, little fragments of fear and pride and glory trickling out of room like the silver dust left behind in a bag of well shook quarters. The sound of concensus is silence, and the argument will go on until that's all that's left. And then, from the darkness of the final office, the chosen sacrifice will step forward: Hands gently cupped, tears streaming down their face, fingers trembling from the pain of the ongoing bird chomps.

And this scene is what organizes people. Not leadership, not truly. No one can think and coordinate a crowd while their fingers are being attacked with a combination nutcracker/ear piercer. But the crowd sees the suffering of their annointed, and it is driven to do everything poossible to make the process flow. People instinctively flair out, finding the fastest path outside. Doors are held open. Paths are cleared. Someone, somehow, always knows the way forward and can describe it to the sufferer. Left, left, forward. Corner closet. Yep, there's a hall in there. Forward. Two-hundred more feet man, you're doing great. Just hold it together a little longer. You're killing it.

Then the final door swings open, and the bird flees out into what remains of daylight. And yet, even here, the deed is not yet done. I cannot explain it in words, but the crowd that helped is never content until they can see and speak on the Bird Vessel's wounds. They all have to pull the fingers back and see what was given. Estimate the price: One day to get better - No, three - No, a week! Are you blind? Do you see that blood blister? -Yeah, that's not going away anytime soon - Damn, can you believe how feisty those things are? Like wolves without teeth.

(They cannot help but touch as they go. It has always been this way. Even Thomas was not content until he felt the wounds in Christ's hands.)

Only when the last of the helpers has seen, and commented, and commended, will the engineers scatter. It is their return from the underworld that announces to the sun living surface dwellers that they too can go home. (@somerunner tolja it needed to be a post.)

[nochepsicodelica]

Mornings with the clingy bear (Toji my beloved <3) when he wakes up before you, but there's no agenda for the day so he just gets to watch you sleep until you wake up on your own. Despite how much he dislikes when you sleep in without him, being able to admire your peaceful, sleeping features makes up for it. Who would ever assume that this sleeping princess could be capable of wreaking so much havoc, but also be the one screaming mayday? He swears you'll give him a heart attack one day. He's too old for your insanity, but god, he wouldn't ask you to change a thing and he's not dying to get away from you. Quite the opposite, actually. The closer you are, the better.

He was careful not to move too fast, to not wake you up as he traced your dormant features. Green eyes roamed over your lips, your cheeks, your nose and your eyes. He had to fight the urge to not roughly drag you closer towards him and squeeze the life out of you.

Your eyebrows pinch and your nose scrunches, your eyes still shut. "Ugh, it's like you're pointing a laser at my forehead," you croak, pulling the blanket up to cover your face. You're stirring under the blanket, on the brink of waking up. If Toji were a dog, which he's not because he's a bear, his tail would be thumping against the bed <3

You throw the blanket off your head, a lazy smile on your face that heavily contrasted your tone from a couple minutes ago. His attention causes you to giggle. He's so focused on you, it's hard not to laugh.

Finally, you're awake so he can pull you closer. You're already touching, but you're not wedged together and that's exactly what he needs in this moment.

"What's that giggle about? Huh?" He asks, pulling your body right up against his. His nose pokes your cheek, his lips resting on the space just below it, luring another laugh from you.

"You woke me up, like you always do, Toji. I can't ever sleep in with you," you say, no bite to your words at all.

"That's too bad, isn't it? It's why I tell you to go to sleep at a reasonable time yet you still go to sleep past midnight, hm?"

"Whatever."

"Mhm, whatever," he says, copying you. "Whatever, until tomorrow morning when I do it again, but with less mercy."

You groan and turn to face him. You can't even be annoyed with him when he looks so good.

"There are so many things you can do without me in the morning," you say, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing his skin, affectionately. "You can... go on a walk or watch TV. Ooo, you can get breakfast going so that when I wake up, it's ready."

He mimics the gentleness of your touch on his cheek, his palm rubbing your lower back. "Don't wanna. That's boring."

"Tojii," you whine, removing your hand from his face, attempting to turn away from him.

"Without you," he corrects, using the hand he has on your back to prevent you from getting too far. "Why make breakfast alone when we can do it together?"

"You mean I cook and you either just watch or you get in my way?"

"You know it, mama," he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

"It's literally eight in the morning, Toji. You should be thrown in jail for disturbing my slumber," you say, attempting to distract him from the color that spreads onto your cheeks.

"Nah, you'd miss me." A smug grin creeps its way onto his lips.

"Mm..." you hum, acting like you're unsure if that's a certain fact. This is you wreaking havoc. You say and do a lot of things that drive him crazy, and now—with proof—even just humming out a response will do that to him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing at all," you say, the hint of a smile on your face.

"No?" If Toji were a dog, which he's not because he's a bear, his ears would be down and his tail would no longer be wagging </3

You sigh. "I'm messing with you. You know I would miss you like hell."

"Oh, really?" He scoffs, in disbelief. "You're ice cold for that, mama. Need me to warm you up, huh?" He says, gliding the hand he has on your lower back across the expanse to grip your waist.

You put your hand over his. "Nope. This blanket is keeping me warm. It does the job just fine."

"I'm better than the blanket," he argues, rolling onto you, unexpectedly.

You groan before you laugh at the feeling of the spontaneous weight laid on top of you, your chest barely able to move with the gesture because of the iron-like hold he had on you. An unbreakable bear hug, if you will :(

"Toji," you say, voice strained yet still managing to muster out your giggling. "Toji, you're crushing me."

"Mm..." he hums, dismissively. He buries his face into your neck, sparing some kisses for it while he listens up close to the sound of your groans of being compressed, mixed with laughter, as you try to push him off. This is you shouting mayday after the chaos you made for yourself and Toji has no intention of swooping in to save you from himself.

You eventually surrender, because all your pushing is futile against Toji, who wasn't moved an inch by you. Lying on you and holding you so tight was beginning to backfire on him. He was starting to feel more like a heated, weighted blanket on you, now. It was reeling in your tiredness, again.

"Mmm... I could fall back asleep like this. Please, can I, baby?" you mumble, shutting your eyes.

"Yeah? Now you're comfortable?" He asks, teasingly, while watching you relax under him.

"You're warmer," you admit. "And clearly more suitable for cuddling."

"You're trynna butter me up, aren't you?" He says, sighing into your neck, tiredness returning to him as well.

"Maybe... One more hour, baby. Please? All I need is one more hour," you say, bringing your arms up onto his back. "I won't complain later when you make me take a nap with you," you add, to further bribe him. "We can do anything you want, too. Nothing is off limits." You turn your head and press a kiss to his temple.

He sighs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "It's hard to say no to all of that. You gonna be real sweet to me later today?"

"Of course. I'm gonna smother you and be so disgustingly affectionate that you'll want to sleep on the couch tonight for some separation."

He bites. Being loved on by you anytime sounds like a dream. Space will never be his response to your affection, when he thrives off of it.

"Fine," he grumbles, like it was hard for him to come to his decision. "Only one more hour. Gonna stay here, though, since i'm already comfortable."

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ mine | tommy hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; texas chainsaw massacre remake/ the beginning

♡ characters; thomas hewitt

♡ reader; AFAB body description, second person POV

♡ cw; graphic sexual content, implied voyeurism, breeding kink, light daddy kink (just calling him daddy? wasn’t sure what to tag that )

♡notes; i feel the need to apologize for this one lmao. i didn’t intend for this to see the light of day but i felt we needed more smut around here and this was already sittin in my personal folder

i don’t know that I’ve ever posted detailed smut anywhere before? so lmk how i did, i still haven’t even asked to get my friend to beta read so I’m sure There’s Issues.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

“Oh fuck, baby,” You sighed softly, letting your head roll to the side as you ground on Thomas’ thigh - the mountain of a man pushing his leg up with a huff. Luda-Mae, Monty, and Hoyt had taken a rare trip to their cousins’ place upstate, and left Thomas and yourself in a…sticky situation.

It had already become a war of attrition with you living there, each of you testing the other’s boundaries as you tried desperately not to cross the line. Thomas was allegedly a good, Bible-following boy- and you a shy little virgin . But god, something about Thomas just made you crazy. You needed him- and you’d gotten so shameless that you’d let him do just about anything to you.

That’s what landed you there, trying to entice Thomas and only ending up a squeaky mess as you rode his thigh. He was steadfast for a man years pent up- seeming to find great pleasure in making you unravel without cracking himself. Of course, you had no idea of the hours he spent fucking into his own hand as he imagined you around him, stealing your panties from the laundry bin and palming himself to the sight of you splayed out sunbathing in the yard. Even now you seemed too hazy to notice his cock straining against his trousers, or his fingers dug into the couch to prevent himself from touching your body. The way he trembled as he felt you making a mess on him, the only thing between your slick cunt and his leg your already soaked lacy panties…

His laser focus was broken by something entirely unexpected. You whimpered and hid your face against his chest, mumbling “Daddy- please—“

He wasn’t sure if it was the phrase,the tone, or both that finally broke his resolve- but either way he pinned you against the floral sofa forcefully, snarling like an animal.

“T-tommy- what- I’m sorry—?” You squeaked, seeming utterly confused. Did you even know what you’d said to him?

He growled and quickly signed ‘Again’. You blinked, perplexed look quickly replaced with embarrassment. You whined and tried to hide your face but he snarled again and made you look at him. ‘Again. Now.’

“…daddy. Please. Please I need you. Please—“ You begged, panting weakly as you writhed uncomfortably and unsated.

He rutted against you quickly, moving and kissing your neck sloppily. “Mine,” He rasped quietly, a rare sound even for his partner “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“Oh my god Tommy- please- I need you to give it to me- I wanna feel you inside-“

He made quick work of his belt, pushing your dress up carelessly and making just as quick a job out of ripping your undies clean apart.

You yelped but replaced the complaint with a blissed out, shuddering whine as he finally rubbed against your bare pussy. “Oh fuck…please- put it in-“

He grunted and pushed your legs back, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours as you felt his weight pressed against you. Even in this moment, he tried his damndest to be gentle, looking your face over for the slightest bit of fear or apprehension. “Tommy, please. Fuck me.” You whimpered out softly.

He pushed in carefully , having to stop only halfway in as you squeezed around him. He was huge, long and girthy and a painful stretch even with you relaxed. He gave a grunt and nuzzled you, hips twitching as he reached between you. Clumsily, roughly, he found your clit and slowly rubbed, purring in approval as you mewled out his name.

He was able to jerk his hips and finally bottomed out with a low groan, face buried in your neck. He held still, taking a ragged breath to try to regain control- but you didn’t want control. You needed him to lose it completely.

“Daddy, please. I want you to fuck a baby into me,” You murmured, letting a desperate whine leak into your voice. It was a bit of a long shot- but he was so possessive. Why wouldn’t he want to breed you?

Thomas’ eyes darkened at the thought and he gave a low noise you could barely classify as he pulled nearly all the way out and snapped his hips, setting a brutal pace.

“Oh god-“ You yelped, bracing yourself on his huge arms as he pounded into you, the entire couch creaking and slamming into the wall at the force. You lost any coherence you had as he again teased your clit, mind blank. You got exactly what you wanted, and it was too much in the best way possible.

You came first- you didn’t know if it was because of his stamina or because even in a frenzy he still needed you to feel just as good. You were almost crying as he continued, overwhelmed and overstimulated - and wrapping your legs around his waist to make sure he didn’t stop for a moment. “Baby please- inside- I want you to finish inside-“ You mewled out in your haze- but damn if you didn’t mean it.

That was all it took, unsurprisingly, for him to thrust one last time and fill you with a snarl. He peppered your face in soft kisses, giving a heaving sigh as he relaxed. You tried to move but he growled, keeping himself firmly inside of you. You blushed a bit as you saw his intense expression “You ah…you really liked when I asked you to knock me up, huh?”

He nodded, huffing at you.

“…you know we have all night to try again, yeah?”

He grunted and finally relented, pulling out and smirking at the sight of his seed dripping down your thighs.

“Tommy baby? I love you.” You sighed sleepily

He looked up quickly and seemed shocked. Man of few words that he ways- and never having dreamed he’d need to learn the sign, he took your hand and pressed it against his chest. Right above the heart. In your mind, there was no better way he could have said it; he loved you too.

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: Zoro loves to tease you until you cry. Seeing your face glistening from tears really gets him going. What happens when he finally gives you what you want? Afab reader, ~2k words.

CW: Pure smut. Gendered language, e.g. "pretty girl", edging, toys, crying, overstimulation, P in V. Note that this is consensual & no safeword used :3

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

Zoro held a vibrator to your clit at the lowest setting and slowly fucked you with three fingers. His brows were bent, and he was laser focused on the slick dribbling out of you.

For the past two hours, every time you were about to cum he’d turn the vibrator off and pull his fingers out. He was being cruel. You’d gotten to the brink of orgasm no less than 10 times. By the 5th you were begging him to let you cum, and, historically, he’d give in. But today, no matter how much you begged, he just wasn’t listening.

He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it.

Hot tears made trails down your cheeks, hooking under your jaw and pooling on your collar bone. Zoro’s cock twitched at the sight. He loved to see you like this, drooling, begging for his cock, so worked up from his fingers that you started to cry in frustration. Every sob made him feel like he was on fire, every tear coaxed more precum out of his tip.

This was like a sport to him. He got off on seeing you unravel from his fingertips, fully broken down in pleasure. When your eyes got glossy, teary, and you could barely talk, he knew he was doing it right.

Zoro took the vibrator off your clit and left his fingers in you, unmoving. His hand was a mess—your arousal coated every finger and his whole palm, glistening around his wrist and dripping onto the covers.

“Zoro, please,” you pleaded for the millionth time, voice cracking. “Wanna cum, please.”

Blinking through the blurry drops of your tears and batting your eyelashes for visibility, you could see Zoro’s sickeningly sweet smile. “I know you do, sweetheart. But you gotta hang in there.”

“Zoro,” you tried to wiggle around on his fingers for friction. You needed him to move. You were going fucking crazy.

He tutted and pulled his fingers out of you, a sticky string connecting his fingertips to your puffy, red lips. You gasped at the emptiness, exasperated beyond words. You couldn’t think straight, and the tears wouldn’t stop.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby. Can’t you keep going?” He was frowning.

You didn’t want to disappoint him. But you were reaching your limit. More desperate tears seeped out of the corners of your eyes.

Sucking his fingers clean, Zoro then cupped your face with both hands and kissed you tenderly. The kisses were salty from your tears.

He wiped under your eyes with both thumbs, swiping away the frustration. “You poor thing. I’ll put my cock in you, ok? But you have to ask really nicely this time.”

You nodded vigorously. “Please Zoro, please fuck me. I need your cock so bad. Please.”

He sighed and frowned again. “Don’t you need it more than that?”

Tears welled in your eyes again. He was being downright ruthless. You had asked nicely. Really nicely. But it wasn’t enough.

“Zoro, fuck” you sobbed. “’M going crazy. I’ll do anything. P-please fuck me. Please.”

He brought a hand down to lazily stroke himself for a moment while he stared into your cock-crazed eyes. He loved it when you were pathetic like this, when you were shameless.

Tanned skin rippled as Zoro’s rough hand twisted over the head of his cock, grazing the sensitive spots on and under his head. Precum oozed out of his inflamed slit, every drop evidence of how badly he wanted you.

He leaned close to your face and practically growled. “When I fuck you, you have to promise not to cum unless I say so. Either that or I won’t fuck you at all.”

His threat made you feel fucking feral. You didn’t care at this point, and you would agree to anything. “Zoro, I promise. Just fuck me.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow and then positioned you exactly how he liked, in some sort of mating press. One hand held your thigh up, fingerpads digging into your plush flesh. The other was braced on the bed next to you. He lined his cock up with your entrance and took a deep breath. Your eyes were lust-filled, hungry, and almost rabid. His heart skipped a beat.

Pushing through your folds as slowly as he could, he could feel your walls starting to clamp down on his cock. You were so wet that it felt like heaven to him—slippery, velvety, and warm. When he bottomed out, he let out a lengthy groan. “Fuuucccck.”

Finally, Zoro’s hips rocked and grinded into you. Every shove of his cock felt electric. Each bundle of nerves that his tip and shaft dragged over sent waves and tingles of pleasure to your core, radiating outwards to every limb. Your toes were already curling with pleasure.

Zoro had been waiting for this moment. He made you ready enough for his cock, and now he was going to fuck you into oblivion.

His girthy, veiny cock pushed out and in, and each pass attacked your g-spot. Your back was arching, you keened his name continuously, and your eyes rolled back in your head. You had completely lost yourself, forgetting what was going on or who you were; you only knew one thing—Zoro’s cock.

Orgasm approached within minutes. He could tell from the way you started to shudder around him and the way your thighs started to tremble. He frowned again and held still.

“Baby, I said you can’t cum unless I say so.”

“Zoro, ‘m so close, please.”

“Don’t you want to be good for me?”

Once again, you started to cry. It was almost worse now that he was fully fucking you but dangling your orgasm in front of your face. Any time you tried to get it, he’d yank it out of reach. He was sadistic about it. But really, what could you expect? It was naive to think that he’d let you cum right off the bat.

“I wanna be good,” you sobbed quietly, and your fingers clawed half-moons into his biceps. Your tortured eyes met his. Zoro was looking at you like he was going to devour you. Like he’d rip out each morsel of pleasure and then leave you for good. It felt like he was using you, but you knew that he was doing it with your own interest in mind. Any time he got heartless like this, your orgasm almost made you faint.

“I-I’ll be so good, Zoro. Please. I’ll wait. I promise.”

“That’s my girl,” he groaned at your words and tears. He fucked you again, slower this time, pressing more of his weight on your thigh that he was holding up. His other hand passed up your body, travelling from your hips to your breasts.

Greedy hands massaged and squeezed. Fingertips brushed over your sensitive buds gently. Pulling and pinching them, he rolled one nipple softly and then harder until you whined and your eyes fluttered.

“Doing such a good job for me, pretty girl. Keep takin’ my cock like that and I’ll let you cum.”

You whimpered as he fucked you so deeply that his cock hit your cervix. It hurt, but the pain was overrun by the gigantic waves of pleasure elicited from your cunt any time Zoro’s head snagged over your hot gooey spot.

“Just like that,” he murmured quietly, coming as close to your face as he could. Your walls throbbed and clenched around him, squeezing out his precum and swallowing his shaft. “So fuckin’ wet for me, baby.”

“Zoro, ’m getting close,” you mewled. Everything about you intoxicated him. Whenever your tits bounced from his thrusts, whenever you scrunched your nose up from him fucking you too deep, those damp cheeks from your tears moments ago… You had been good for him. You’d let out enough needy whimpers, too. You earned it.

“Let it out. Cream on my cock, sweetheart. Show me how much you love it.”

As soon as you registered his permission, you came. You screamed his name, convulsed and spasmed under him, throwing your head back with euphoria. It felt like you orgasmed for minutes. Your juices gushed out around the base of his cock and he moaned at the sensation.

It was foolish of you to assume he would be done after that.

Of course, his hips kept grinding into yours through your orgasm. You started to squirm.

“Zoro, fuck,” you whimpered. “’s too much.”

“No, it’s not.” He cooed and purred in your ear. “I know you’ve got another for me. No matter how much you writhe, I’m still going to fuck you through it.”

More tears. It felt like he was pressing a button in you that made you wince from overstimulation and pleasure. “Z-zoro, fuck, it’s—it’s too much, Zoro.” You struggled and contorted around his cock. It felt too good, the sensation was too overwhelming, you wanted it to stop but at the same time it was addictive.

“Stay still for me.” He put all his weight on you, and you continued to writhe for a second before you did what he said. Your eyes were fucked-out and hazy, barely sentient of what was happening other than pleasure. His hips rolled with each squelching sound that echoed in the room. Slowly, your cunt started to pulse again.

“Does it feel good now, princess? You like it when I stuff you full of my cock?” Zoro was starting to get riled up. Each hump and thrust goaded feverish desire.

“You’re milking my cock so well, baby. Pussy feels so good.” Every nasty word he rasped in your ear burned.

As Zoro’s peak built, yours did too. He wanted to time it so you came at the same time—though he could be a sadist, he was also a romantic. To climax together was something sweet that he put the utmost effort into.

He praised and encouraged you as much as he could muster. He choked out a word between each grunt. “Doing—so—good—for—me— fuck.”

Zoro reached a hand to rub his fingers in circles over your clit. The noises you produced were guttural and primal—it’s like pleasure was exploding in you. He pressed down with his thumb, hard, and you gasped his name.

“Let it out, sweetheart. Cum on my cock. Wanna feel it.”

Your second orgasm was pure ecstasy. Zoro wrenched it from your core, ripped it out of you like the animal he was. When you started to shake, his hips jerked into you, haphazard and frenzied.

“F-fuck, fuck, your pussy is—so good, fuck, ‘m cumming, fuuuccckkkk.” He came, cocked twitching, seeing stars. You could feel him filling you up, hot and sticky.

Completely losing touch with the world, your orgasm literally crushed your sense of reality. You blacked out for a couple seconds, and by the time you were cognizant again, Zoro’s cum was leaking out of your cunt. He was panting, trying to catch his breath. Sweat matted his hair down around his temples, his cheeks were ruddy, his hair was ruffled up and he was a mess. “Fucking hell, babe.”

Zoro may have been the one feigning control during your sessions of arduous orgasm denial, crying, and fucking, but in reality, you pulled the strings. He wouldn’t have the experience he wanted, and you wouldn’t have the experience he wanted for you, if you didn’t play along too. Zoro knew this, and he was grateful that you’d humor him, grateful that you cherished his intimacy enough to entertain hours of edging, crying, and nasty fucking. Sharing an experience like this and simultaneously respecting the other’s vulnerability was something precious to him.

Aftercare for him was a different sport entirely. And like everything he did, Zoro was determined to become the best. He sprinkled your face with ticklish kisses, replacing the tears that were there minutes ago with love.

that’s all for this one!! thank u sm for reading :D here’s my masterlist and my October posting schedule.

also for giggles - trick or treat? (both tumblr links heh)

[caraphernellie]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

CONTENT | ellie teaching u how to play pool. heavy sexual tension. heavy praise kink, usage of 'good girl' and other pet names. kinda voice kink? sub!reader, dom!ellie. fingering, oral (r!receiving all). strip teasing. not plot focused at all. fwb but with some feelings reader can't be assed to unpack. ellie is fucking dorky. eight-ball (reader's version).

AUTHOR'S NOTE | posted this little blurb on january first last year, so here we go! happy new years. loved that blurb so much i had to extend it, and make it smuttier. this is really just praise kink central. especially after seeing this random pic on pinterest. winners love winning! ellie pic by @/Quelbia94 on pinterest.

　　WC: 2.0K | ELLIE'S MASTERLIST | BOYCOTT TLOU

A peaceful winter night. Cold is the air, and warm are her hands pressed on your forearms. Moving you into place, your hip meeting the pool table.

The annual ski trip with friends has taken a private turn today, with you and Ellie left behind at the lodge all night. The rest of your group had been wanting to spend New Year's Eve at the bar, but you couldn't think of any worse way to spend the night. With them out of the way for a long few hours, Ellie found purpose in the time alone with you.

Teaching you how to play pool, of course! The table in this Air BnB has remained unused by your entourage in the many trips you've taken—it's left Ellie dying to show off her prowess. Joel taught her well.

She grabs a cue and positions herself behind you. The table isn't yet set up for a proper game, only a few balls ready for the basics to be taught. She briefly explained the rules, but certainly isn't sure you took it all in.

"Alright, you want the long explanation, or do you just want me to show you how to fuck shit up?" She asks, her grin evident in voice. You can't see her but somehow you can picture the look she's wearing; dimpled smirk, eyes laser focused on your side profile.

"Hm," you scoff, "well, obviously I need to know the basics first. Then you can start adding in all the crazy tricks after."

"'Kay, gimme your dominant hand," Ellie says, already reaching for your hand. "You wanna hold the stick with this hand, and rest the narrow end on your other hand."

You stand there and do absolutely nothing. She manoeuvres you like a puppet, guiding your hands into the correct position. The end of the cue touches your index finger, and is pointed straight ahead where the cue ball lies.

"This hand never moves." Ellie's fingers tap your non-dominant hand as she speaks, "you can use it to aim and that's it. Try."

"Uh-huh," you murmur, leaning down lower. You keep your eyes on the white ball and the blue one behind it. You drive the cue forward and it hits the ball softly, yet it doesn't move far.

"Bit more force," Ellie whispers, and her hand moves over yours already. She guides you through a few practise strokes before letting you line up another shot. "You just have to look at the location of the balls to figure out how weak your shot needs to be, you know?"

"Sorry not everyone's an expert at the lamest games imaginable," you mutter, but she takes your jest in stride only for the way you laughed.

It is true, to be fair—she is a ridiculous tryhard.

"S'okay, don't worry," Ellie says. Her voice is soft as silk right now, tone light and reassuring. "You're just practising. Still learning."

It is admittedly hard to focus on your aim when you can feel her softly breathing against your neck. Ellie being so close, it takes your mind back to the times in the past when she's breathed into your neck, her chest flush with your back.

Normal friends don't do that shit.

Normal friends don't think about each other this way. Friends can usually interact with each other without being reminded of the nights they've shared in bed together. This entire situation you're stuck in takes the wind out of your lungs, aches when you dwell on it too long, and yet like an addict, you can't bring yourself to put an end to it.

Albeit distractedly, you take a shot. It's firm, and sends a couple balls rolling.

"Good girl."

Right here is your reason to never walk away from Ellie.

Her voice.

Sweet talking woven into a low, raspy drawl. Praises and compliments that warm your stomach. Blood rushing everywhere—the heat filling not only your face, but your panties.

And it seems she hasn't got a clue. Shouldn't she have caught on by now? One would think she does it on purpose, but Ellie's far from calculated when it comes to flirting.

"This was much better." She's firm, now squeezing your waist as she murmurs close to your ear. "Few more practise shots, yeah?"

"Yeah," you repeat, focusing your mind—or attempting to do so—back towards the task at hand.

A few more practise shots manage to raise your confidence, and Ellie affirms each shot by patting your hip and whispering whatever encouragement she happens to find.

With your confidence growing, tension grows alongside it. Each praise throws out your balance a little, gives your heart a stutter, and flushes warmth and wetness into your panties. It's pathetic, you can't help but think. Can't even hang out with her anymore without this sort of thing happening.

Ellie is less than innocent here. She has paid far more attention than you thought, intention behind every word and every touch provided to you. She couldn't help herself.

"See, I think you might already be almost as good as me. Almost." Ellie chuckles, moving towards the table. She takes the triangle to set up a game, and flicks her gaze up. "You ready for a real game now? I'll go easy on you. Wouldn't wanna make you cry losing your first game."

"Oh, wow, I'm so intimidated," you retort, void of enthusiasm. Cocky girl, she is. But you won't let her stroke her ego tonight, you're desperate to have the upper hand. "I actually thought we could play a different version of the game. My version."

Ellie laughs. Laughs, because she hasn't got a clue what's coming for her. "So you're already trying to cheat?"

"No, this is my new game and you're gonna play with me. It's where we abandon every single rule... and every ball that you sink equals a layer of my outfit coming off. Doesn't that sound more fun?"

"What?"

"Do you need me to go over the rules again?" You ask. And Ellie is seconds away from trying to kiss that wry grin off your face.

"You are a pain in my ass." And yet, she snatches the cue from you. "So, what happens if I sink the eight ball right away? Lap dance?"

"Yeah, that's not happening," you mutter. "Just play the game."

Ellie laughs softly, shaking her head. "Alright, jesus. Pushy."

From beneath her full lashes, adventurous thyme greens glare up at you. They track your movement, watching you take a seat on the bar stool beside the table. Her eyes return to the white ball, beginning to line up the first shot.

And once it's taken, she stands, and looks up at you expectedly.

"What?" You ask. "Don't— be serious, there's no fucking way you sunk one already."

"Heighten your expectations, babe," Ellie chimes, "now, am I allowed to pick what comes off first?"

"N— seriously? I hate you so much."

"Just take your top off already, please."

Well, this game may end up shorter than you'd anticipated. She's made of excellent aim.

Deliberately void of haste, you pull your top up and over your head. Ellie stifles a snort, her mind likening it to unwrapping a present. You're left in a black bra and jeans, eyes rolling before landing back on Ellie.

The girl scoffs, shaking her head before surveying the pool table and planning another move. Perhaps this will backfire on you after all, because Ellie targets the balls nearest to the pockets. She's getting this over and done with in a pinch.

Soon you're in just your underwear, the next garment to come off being your bra, and you're watching her carefully. A blue ball sinks and you tut, voice growing whiny.

"This isn't fair, you're rushing this. I pass this round."

"You think you get to pass? That wasn't one of the rules you declared when we started this game of yours," Ellie reminds, approaching you with narrowed eyes. "I'm playing fair according to your rules."

You groan and tip your head back with utmost annoyance until a warm hand cups your cheek and directs you back to her—and her free hand is fumbling with the clip of your bra.

"You've got to take the shit off."

She finally manages to undo it and the lacy lingerie slips down your shoulders, bestowing upon her the sight of your chest. Cool air slips in through the open window, and not even the lodge's heater can help you. Goosebumps rise and your nipples grow firm at the chill.

"That's better," Ellie whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone gently. "One more shot."

Pushing past how exposed you suddenly are, you watch Ellie line up another shot. You're hardly able to pay attention with the growing heat between your thighs, yet she's aiming straight for the eight ball this time. It's loaded with cockiness, and overridden by dorky commentation.

"She shoots..." Ellie knocks a green ball with her cue. It hits the eight ball and it rolls agonisingly slowly across the table, finally falling into the pocket. "Aaaaand she scores."

"You're so immature," you mutter, standing up finally. Ellie's unbothered as always, an arm swiftly moving around your waist as she places her cue down.

"Better get those panties off," she says, tone making it sound like a suggestion, though it's certainly a demand. "I won fair and square! Let me have my prize."

Your fingers hook into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs before stepping out of them. Baring yourself for your friend, it's such a strange feeling. It can be conflicting, but turns euphoric as soon as her eyes drag over your form.

"Good girl," Ellie murmurs. "Ain't you pretty like that? C'mere."

Kisses peppered along your jaw lead to your lips, your body resting against the side of the table. You're bordering on sitting on it, Ellie's hands moving with a mind of their own to spread your thighs.

A messy exchange of spit and clashing teeth is interrupted with you throwing your head back. She's pretty much lathering her fingers with the glistening essence of your pussy, stroking them up and down.

"So wet," Ellie whispers, softly laughing against the nape of your neck. She presses a kiss to the waiting skin there, fingers finding their way to your hole. She slips them in slowly, listening to the strained moan it elicits.

She almost wants to moan herself at the way you clench on her fingers, the feeling warm, wet, and tight. She curls her fingers, thumb brushing over your clit and she has to chuckle at your keen and whimper. "That good, huh?"

"Fuck," your tender whisper is swallowed by her lips, kissing, biting, licking into your mouth. Your trembling knees threaten to give out but Ellie hooks your leg over her hip, pushing you against the table even firmer.

"I got you," she mumbles, attention focused between your legs where a white ring is forming around her knuckles. "God, you're a work of art like this. Take it so well, don'tcha?"

"Mhm." Your desperate coos don't go unnoticed, the pretty sounds of you getting closer and closer to the edge spurring her on.

"Hold on, okay?" Ellie smiles, and that gorgeous grin would seem so innocent in any other circumstance, but she moves to her knees, flushed face staring up at you. She keeps your leg over her shoulder and hums appreciatively as your hand threads into her hair—she will be the death of you.

Her fingers continue plowing into you, erotic squelching sounds forming as she moves her hand, and your legs buckle once her tongue slides over your clit.

"Hhn, Els, shit. I'm close," you whine, hand tangling into her hair while the other squeezes and squishes your tits unconsciously. "Please, please, just like that."

Ellie holds that eye contact, not wavering for even a second. Her tongue laves over your clit, she sucks the engorged bud between her lips and your entire body jolts, a pitchy moan eliciting from your lips as an orgasm hits you.

And she slurps up every drop, from your clit to the juices leaking down her wrist.

"Atta fuckin' girl."

Ellie rises to her feet with a hand neatening up her tousled hair, licking her lips clean as she glances at the clock.

"And happy new year."

[cinematicreid]

for a moment

the one where Spencer reminds reader to slow down.

wc 651

warnings + the rundown: bau!reader, fluff, soft!spencer, i love him, literally can’t live without him, what a sweetheart, mentions of reader getting shot, but nothing explicit, feelings!, yikes!

a/n: can’t beat short and sweet and cutesy. feedback always welcome, come say hi to me i think you’re all so cool!

~

Spencer’s eyes may as well have laser beams shooting out of them with the way his gaze is glued to you. You attempt to focus on the task at hand, securing the Kevlar vest to the upper half of your body and completely ignoring him. But this has been happening for almost two months, ever since your incident, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Give it a rest, Spencer, you’re driving me crazy.”

“I know! I’m sorry, just — will you please let me —”

You let out a huff of exasperation, giving up.

“For fuck’s sake,” you mumble, and then more loudly, “Fine.”

Your hands fall to your sides in surrender as he quickly moves toward you and reaches for the vest’s fasteners.

A child. He’s making you feel like a child.

You hear Morgan chuckle from the other end of the police precinct’s tiny conference room, as if he can read your thoughts. You’re about to shoot him a death glare when you’re interrupted by Spencer sharply tugging a strap too tight.

“Reid,” you hiss.

“Don’t start,” he interjects over your complaint.

The incident in question was, of course, an accident. It wasn’t like you had intentionally put your vest on in a rush. There just hadn’t been enough time (which was not a proper excuse, as Hotch had gently but firmly reminded you later), and the loosened straps meant the vest moved around more than it should have when you were running, and the UnSub’s bullet found your side all too easy to graze.

It was stupid, really, but it was one time and nearly two months ago.

None of this was enough to ease the seemingly permanent furrow in Spencer’s brow.

It started as small, albeit irritating, reminders to double-check your vest, which you initially laughed off. But it had now escalated to taking the task entirely off your hands.

Spencer finishes with a final tug.

“Happy?” you ask him flatly. He lifts his concentrated gaze to meet your annoyed one.

“I could do without the sass. But yes,” he says, his shoulders visibly lighter and more content.

“It’s like watching a dad get his daughter ready for Take Your Kid To Work Day,” Morgan teases, rushing out of the room before you can hit him with the closest object at your disposal and leaving just you and Spencer. He rolls his eyes at the poor joke and gently takes said object from your hand.

“I don’t think a pen is going to do much damage,” he says. He loosens a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

You regard him for a few seconds, a small part of you melting at the undeniable softness in his eyes, which are so vast and deep you could stay there forever.

You get it.

It’s the thing about this job. How it forces an eternity to become temporary. How, in 20 minutes, you’ll be hunting down the bad guy but for now, what can feel like forever if you wanted, you’re only here with Spencer.

It’s all fleeting. Your little “incident” had only served as a reminder of that.

And so, Spencer had to take care of you in this way. You both knew that.

“You don’t need to be,” you offer him. He avoids your gaze and you nudge his shoulder with your hand. “Spencer, I’m here, yeah?” That earns you a gentle nudge back and the hint of a smile.

“I know. I’m here, too.”

And here is everywhere and nowhere and, perhaps most importantly, together. A beat, or maybe a forever passes before he speaks again.

“If this were Take Your Kid To Work Day I’d be the worst father in the world.”

Just like that, he’s back and you’re back with him.

Fleeting.

“I am so getting him back for that,” you mumble, making your way to the door. Spencer’s laugh as he follows behind you is all you can hear.

[lunememes]

🌙 * ― 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 ( a collection of date locations and things to do with your date. feel free to adjust the prompts as needed! do not add to the list. )

a relaxing date

quiet night. our muses snuggle up together beneath a blanket on the couch or in bed and listens as the other muse reads a book to them. bookshop. our muses go to a bookshop and pick out books for each other to read once they get back home. console. our muses play a casual and fun game on a console together, requiring teamwork and strategy. park. our muses take a relaxing walk through the park together to talk and get to know each other better. spa. our muses go to a spa to treat themselves to a day of relaxation and pampering. movie. our muses go to the local cinema to watch a movie together, where they can snack on popcorn and be transported to another world. beach. our muses go to a warm sandy beach, where they can soak up the sun and dip their toes into the sea for a swim or a splash.

a fun date

pins. our muses go to a bowling alley together, where they can play a casual game or aim to have the highest score. wheels. our muses go roller skating together, where they can race one another or skate hand in hand for a more relaxed date. rink. our muses go ice skating together, where they can show off their moves or wobble on the ice and tumble in unison. swim. our muses go swimming together, where they can playfully splash one another, go down the slides or brave the wave pool. shopping. our muses go to the mall together, where they can shop to their hearts content and find a new thing to take home. ride. our muses go horse riding together, either separately or together, and enjoy the sights atop their horses. hole-in-one. our muses go to a crazy golf course, where they must overcome obstacles and get the ball to its end destination. laser. our muses go to a laser tag event and test out their stealth and aim as they try to hunt one another down to tag them. paintball. our muses go paintballing together and form up to be a formidable team or test their skills against each other. rodeo. our muses attempt the mechanical rodeo bull, where one muse must hang on for dear life or try to stay on together.

a delicious date

restaurant. our muses go to a nice restaurant, dressed up and treated to vintage wine and delicious food. fast food. our muses go to a fast food place, where there are no expectations and the company is all that matters. café. our muses go to a homely little café, where they can enjoy a warm drink and homemade cakes. truck. our muses go to a local food truck, where greasy but delicious food is served up right in front of them. homemade. our muses have a home-cooked meal, where one muse cooks the other a delicious and intimate meal. baking. our muses bake something together, sending flour everywhere and bringing out the playfulness of one another. picnic. our muses go on a little picnic together, a quiet patch of grass beneath the warm sun. cold treat. our muses find an ice cream truck and decide to treat themselves to a cold treat. sweet treat. our muses go to a desert place where they can get waffles, crêpes and brownies.

a nature date

zoo. our muses take a trip to the zoo where they can admire all the various walks of life and get the special privilege to feed an animal. wings. our muses visit a butterfly sanctuary, where the air is filled with colourful wings and life flutters all around them. feed. our muses visit a park with a bag of seed on hand to feed the local wildlife, getting to see them up close and personal. sea life. our muses visit and aquarium together, where they can stand beneath a tunnel of water and see sharks and fish swim overhead. sun. our muses find a clearing or a good vantage point to watch the sunrise or sunset together. stars. our muses lay beneath the stars together, where they can try to catch a glimpse of shooting star or point out the constellations. garden. our muses visit a botanical garden, where vibrant colours and fragrant flowers bloom.

an entertaining date

play. our muses attend a play at a theatre, where music fills the halls and actors perform on stage. opera. our muses attend an opera hall, where classical music takes people back to a different age. ballet. our muses attend a ballet showing, where elegance and grace captivates the audience. sport. our muses attend a sports event with the best seats in the house, where they can cheer on their favourite team and have a beer or two. concert. our muses visit a concert together, where the crowd raves to the music and joins in harmony. amusement park. our muses go to an amusement park, where they can relax on a log ride or risk it all with a daring ride. night out. our muses go to a bar where the drinks never end and the party goes well into the night. prize. our muses visit the arcades where they can try to win as many prizes as they can or jump into a stimulation game. old games. our muses have a fun and competitive go at old board games, where it could bring them together or test the strength of their relationship.

an educational date

pottery. our muses attending a pottery class where one muse helps the other to make a pot, hands on. paint. our muses attending a painting class, where they can gift one another their painting or paint one another. dance. our muses attend a dance class, where they can learn a few new moves and share an intimate moment. axe. our muses go to an axe throwing class, where a professional teaches them how to throw axes. museum. our muses go to the museum, where they can learn the earth's history, admire the artwork or venture into space. castle. our muses visit an old castle, where history lingers and people can peer into the past.

a medieval date

renfair. our muses attend a renfair event, dressed up for the occasion and enjoy the festivities. joust. our muses attend a medieval restaurant where they can dine, watch knights joust and have a medieval experience. ball. our muses attend a grand ball, where couples take to the dance floor and let the music flow through them. masquerade. our muses attend a masquerade ball, where masks shrouds faces and scandals thrive. feast. our muses attend a grand feast, where jolly laughter and mountains of food await.

an adventurous date

climb. our muses attend an indoor climbing place or brave the mountains, to put their strength and resilience to the test. camp. our muses take to the wild and set up camp in the woods, putting their survival skills to the test. sail. our muses go on a cruise together, where they can kick back and enjoy a nice cocktail on the ocean waves. lake. our muses brave the brisk waters and go skinny dipping together for some naughty fun. rapids. our muses go canoeing in the treacherous waters of a fast running river sky diving. our muses take to the skies and go sky diving, either together or side by side, and experience the world from above. slope. our muses go skiing or snowboarding together, soaring past the snow covered trees and gaining air with ramps.

an unconventional date

heist. our muses go on a more unconventional date and go on a heist together to bring home a new, shiny and expensive addition. fight. our muses attend a fighting match where adrenaline is high and cheers fill the room. rage. our muses go to a rage room and smash things together, letting out pent up rage and stress in union. graveyard. our muses visit a graveyard at night, where they can try to scare one another with a scary story or visit the dead. ghosts. our muses try to find the paranormal in an abandoned place, where spirits are said to linger. hunting. our muses go hunting together, but what exactly will they be hunting? escape. our muses go to an escape room, where they will need to work together if they ever stand a chance of getting out. sacrifice. our muses perform a ritual with the intention of summoning something, but is it for fun or is it something all the more sinister?

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒌𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - after getting his heart broken, something leads clark to the strawberry shack, allowing him to release all his anger.

warning - smut, gloryhole, swearing, slight angst, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Lois had left him, she had packed her bags and walked out the door. Though she wasn’t expecting him home, which explained the shocked look on her face when he walked through the front door, seeing her bags packed and her keys in her hand. Clark watched her leave before flying off anywhere that could keep his mind off her. He stumbled upon a certain building that caught his eye, the flashing sign that read ‘The Strawberry Shack’ caused him to become curious, so he landed and walked in. 

Listening to the woman at the front as she explained things, his face turning red, jaw clenching and his brows furrow as he realised the type of establishment he walked into. “So, sugar. What’s it gonna be? Door one or door two?” 

“Uh… What the hell. Door two.” He pulls out some cash and hands it over before walking toward the door, he can feel his mind go crazy as he enters, never seeing this many naked women before. Clark could feel a pull towards a certain woman, not being able to control his feet as he walks in your direction. He’d have to remember to be careful, not wanting to literally split you open from his strength. “Hello.”

Clark was mad and you could practically feel that radiating off him. So, you spread your legs, inviting him in for him to use you however he pleases. “I can feel your anger, handsome. Why don’t you use me, take it out on me.” 

Clark glares down at your sopping cunt, licking his lips as he feels himself harden in his pants. His hands move subconsciously, taking his cock out and stroking it as he stares down at you. A groan slips from his lips before he begins to slowly push inside of you. Clark’s eyes slip closed as he revels in the feel of a new woman, slowly thrusting in and out of you, hands gently gripping your hips as he feels you squeeze around his thick girth. 

“Oh, you feel so good. Fuck me, please.” You let out a breathless moan, your back arches off the bench as he begins to slam into you, hitting that spot deep inside of you. Clark begins to lose control, thrusting faster and harder, his cock throbs as he really fucks you. He grunts and groans, tightening his grip slightly, his eyes glow red as lasers shoot from his eyes and he quickly blinks.

“Fuck…” His balls tighten, hips jerk as he growls, releasing thick ropes of cum inside of you, coating your tight walls. He continues to roughly fuck into you until his balls are empty, enjoying how you squirt around him. “F–fuck…” He pulls out slowly, cleaning you up before tucking himself back into his pants. “I–I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.” Clark quickly worries, hurriedly running out the door and flying off, feeling ashamed for using you for his pleasure. 

You lie there, staring above as you can barely feel your legs, tingling between your thighs as stars cover your vision and a dopey smile rests on your face.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[kari-sims]

Tomiko Moriyama (she/they) as my entry for the Total Drama Sims season 3 by @jonquilyst!! (thanks for letting me participate <3)

also huge wall of slightly amusing text below the cut (you've been warned!) cause i was caffeinated and ended up having some fun with this ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

👩 Age: 14 🪐 Lives in: Strangerville 🐛 Goals in life: to open a bug museum 💖 Orientation: thinks girls are cute, but doesn't want to waste their short teen years chasing them around (that's what the 20's are for!) 🎶 Hidden talent: encyclopedic knowledge of kpop girl group's songs and dances 🥇 Honorable titles: -> 'Mighty Collector of the Fun Hats' -> 'Prestigious Ambassador' at the ''International Bug Diplomacy Federation'' (only actual human member, but it'll grow, just wait!) 👍Likes: iridescent beetles / cut rock hard candy / slippery mud you can draw on / putting googly eyes on random things 👎 Dislikes: homework / cleaning things that'll get dirty again / humans evil bug killing inventions (unless it's a laser shooting death ray gun for mosquitoes, cause yeah, even a bug loving girl hates those bastards!)

[RECORD 434, another sunny day in strange Strangerville]

🔴 ▶ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•

(sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by what's obviously a kid trying to speak in an exaggerated deep voice)

Tomiko: "Tomiko is a girl who didn't need a home with walls or windows - the roof to her 'home' has always been the sky above." (pauses, mutters to themselves) Ooh that's a good one! Wait, people will think i live in the woods, no? Wouldn't that be the dream…

(moment of silence as Tomiko daydreams, then remembers she just started recording)

"Tomiko doesn't have many friends, because she was destined to be a free-spirited loner. With the exception of Clarisse, a girl who dreams ofbecoming a marine biologist. Clarisse was made fun of by strangers on a dumb internet show she went to one day, all because she wanted to win the money and go on a trip to Sulani. Now everyone calls her the 'Dolphin Girl'. After Tomiko decided to console her at lunch in school, both of them ended up bonding over their crazy obssession with nature. They've been inseparable friends ever since."

(another pause, followed by an audible sigh)

"Well, they were inseparable, until Tomiko moved away. Now Clarisse is being weird for no reason... anyways, where was i?

(forgets why they went on a Clarisse tangent and starts to fumble with their unorganized notes)

"Oh yes, destined to be a free-spirited loner, ya-da ya-da. Unfortunately, Tomiko was forced to live in a boring house made of bricks, with white furniture, and a mom who was always mad about her muddy boots on the carpet."

(voice shifts to mimic the mom's screech)

- I'm not gonna raise a savage wild child! Since you love dirt so much, go live with your bum of a father in that Strangerplace world, or whatever it's called.

"Best thing to ever happen to me!" (voice switches to normal accidentally, then goes back to the fake deep one) - I mean - best thing to ever happen to Tomiko! Even though her dad looks kinda weird lately, walking around aimlessly at night in search of his mother. Classic dad, being a weirdo. No idea how this man got married..."

- Dad, I told you grandma still lives in Willow Creek. Why do you think she's in the middle of the desert? Also, she wouldn't be caught dead wasting away her fabulous heels in this god-forsaken place.

"Tomiko pretends she doesn't see it, because now she can do whatever she wants, why complicate things? The only problem is, there isn't much to do in Strangerville with the infection rumors going on, and all the damn sus soldiers. Also, the taste of travelling for the first time has left her wanting to see more. Imagine all the bugs she could find?! But you need money for that, sooo… what to do, what to do…"

(voice returns to normal, a bit defensive)

"Okay, fine, I'm the one recording this… (sighs) I know what you're thinking - "just steal from your dad!". Seriously, who do you think I am? Anyways, I did something else instead. I heard there's this competition with other teens where you get to travel the world, and guess what? I signed up for it! Without my parents knowing, of course, but that is irrelevant. They won't even notice I'm gone, I fear. I just hope the organizers don't ask for their permission, because Clarisse was the one who knew how to fake signatures, but now she's hanging out with other kids at school, and thinks she's better than me."

(inhales, then proceeds to speak loudly at a wall, probably)

"Like... Nina? The enemy? Be so for real right now Clarisse! My life is just grand without you! I'll get to travel the world and educate people on how bugs are friends, and definitely NOT disgusting or too dangerous! Well, most times. I'll also prove that even if you're a weird bug loving kid like me, you can still have a chance at a game that requires you to make friends. It'll be eaaasy! In a few weeks I'll be like, Clarisse who? Hahah!"

(brief pause on their flex-rant, which is totally NOT a defense mechanism because she's hurt by them growing apart. They return, slightly worried)

"Do you think I can die in there? Cause gosh, let's hope not! Imagine going on an adventure of a lifetime and not being able to tell people about your heroic deeds... that'd be so lame! Anyways, I'll see you when I see you, whoever is listening to this… Tomi out!"

🟥 ▶ •ııııııııııııııııı•

[RECORD ENDS]

wow if you're still here, thanks for reading, you wonderful bean! here, have a cute snail

(´・ᴗ・)>~🐌

[xxgoldie]

Do you think Seth has that instinct cats do where he “play bites” or love bites sometimes and if the reader pulls away, again he does what cats do, and his prey drive is activated and he chases after?

I could definitely see that. I feel like Seth, like a lot of Thirens, would suppress a lot of his more animalistic instincts, especially while on the job. But when it's just the two of you, he lets down his guard and sometimes he just gets the urge to bite. Usually when your hand is near his face, like if your arm is round his shoulder or you're petting his hair - he's perfectly content, and then something kicks in and he has to give you a little chomp. While idt his prey drive would be that high, if you move your hand away too fast his head will automatically follow and try to give you another bite before he realises what he's doing. If you make any indication it actually hurt, though, he will Definitely do the cat thing where they immediately apologise by giving you little kisses where they bit you, reminding you you're only playing. and then bite you again.

I also think his cat tendencies come out extra when he's sleepy. If you catch him when he's just woken up you could so get him with a laser pointer. he won't get up and chase it but if you keep it in his arms reach he'll try to catch it. also if you get him a body pillow (PLAIN ONE, I KNOW THIS SITE WELL ENOUGH) he will hold it like a kicker toy and sometimes, especially if he has an intense dream, he'll start actually kicking it in his sleep. like the crazy superspeed scratch-kicking. goofball that he is.

[kingdom-of-sins]

Max Verstappen x Reader

Max crashes his ex's wedding but will he get the bride?

You never expected to see Max Verstappen again. Not like this. Not today. Not on your wedding day. Yet here he is, standing in the middle of the aisle, hair disheveled, still in his Red Bull Racing suit, looking like he just won the championship...again.

Because, of course, he had to make an entrance.

***

A couple of years ago, you and Max had been inseparable. The kind of couple that people whispered about in the paddock, that journalists wrote about, and fans shipped relentlessly. But it ended when Max, with a heavy heart, told you he wasn’t ready for marriage.

"I'm not that guy yet," he’d said one quiet evening in Monaco, his hands in his hair as if trying to figure out a way to keep you without breaking your heart. "You deserve someone who can give you everything you want, and I can't be that person right now."

You’d cried for weeks, tried to move on, but your heart stayed bruised for far longer than you cared to admit.

***

Now, two years later, you were marrying someone else—someone stable, predictable, and safe. Someone who wouldn’t put your heart in a spin with every career decision. Someone who wasn’t Max Verstappen.

But Max had been keeping tabs on you. Not obsessively, no. Just… occasionally checking your fan accounts (he definitely didn’t follow them under a burner account named SuperMax33). He told himself he was happy for you when he saw the proposal photos. He even congratulated himself on being mature when he heard about your wedding.

Then, on a random Thursday, he scrolled past a photo of you in your wedding dress on a fan account.

You. In white.

His heart stopped.

Max tried to ignore it, brushing it off as pre-race jitters. But it didn’t go away. Not during practice sessions. Not during qualifying. Not even after winning pole. He’d spent years convincing himself he made the right decision by letting you go. But now, staring at that photo, it hit him like a wall at Eau Rouge, he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

***

Race day came. Max was laser-focused on winning, though not for the reasons everyone thought. The lights went out, and he drove like a man possessed. Every lap, every corner, every pit stop—it was flawless. When he crossed the finish line, the roar of the crowd barely registered.

“Max Verstappen takes the win!” the commentator screamed, but Max was already planning his next move.

***

Three hours later, your ceremony was in full swing. You stood at the altar, your groom beaming at you, your heart pounding—though not entirely from joy. There was an ache, a nagging little voice that you couldn’t quiet.

"Do you, Y/N, take this man—"

The doors of the church slammed open with a deafening bang.

Every head turned.

You froze.

Max Verstappen strode in, sweaty, breathless, and still in his racing suit.

“Stop the wedding!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

Gasps filled the room. Your fiancé blinked at him in stunned disbelief. The priest clutched his book like Max was there to steal it.

"Max?!" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and disbelief.

He held up a finger, panting. "One sec. Had to run from the car and all those stairs."

You stared at him, speechless.

"I know this is crazy," Max began, catching his breath. "I know I'm insane for showing up like this. But I can’t let you do this. I can’t let you marry him."

Your fiancé shifted uncomfortably. “Who the hell are you?”

Max ignored him, his eyes fixed on you. “You look breathtaking, by the way. Absolutely stunning. But you already knew that.”

Your cheeks burned. The audacity.

“I screwed up, Y/N,” Max continued, stepping closer. “I was stupid, immature, scared—whatever you want to call it. I wasn’t ready back then. But I am now. And I can’t let you marry someone else knowing that I still love you.”

“Max—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted, raising a hand. “I’ve thought about this every day since we broke up. I’ve thought about how stupid I was to let you go. I’ve thought about the house we’d live in, the trips we’d take, the little Verstappens we’d raise—if they’re anything like me, I’m sorry in advance.”

Someone in the crowd snorted.

Your lips twitched. Damn him. Damn him for making you laugh at your own wedding.

“Do you know what I see when I think about the future?” Max asked, his voice softer now. “I see you. Always you. At every race, at every finish line. I see us, building a life together. And yeah, I might come home sweaty and exhausted half the time, but I’ll always come home to you.”

The silence was deafening.

“Don’t marry him,” Max said, his voice cracking. “Marry me. Right now. I mean, I’m already dressed for it.” He gestured at his racing suit.

You blinked at him, your heart hammering.

“Y/N,” your fiancé said, his voice tight, “is this a joke?”

You turned to Max, who looked at you with so much raw emotion it nearly broke you.

It wasn’t even a choice.

You dropped your bouquet and ran down the aisle, straight into his arms.

The room erupted in chaos—your mother fainted, your fiancé cursed, and Max just grinned like he’d won the championship all over again.

***

Twenty minutes later, you stood in front of the priest again, this time with Max by your side. He was still in his racing suit, grease smudges on his hands, but his eyes shone with unfiltered joy.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered as the priest declared you husband and wife.

When he kissed you, the room erupted in cheers, but somewhere the Red Bull PR department is having a heart attack.

But none of that mattered. You were finally where you were meant to be—with Max Verstappen, your husband, your champion.

[inbabylontheywept]

can we get more security clearance stories? they are amazing

Yeah, sure. Remember how getting contractors in to perform regular to the maintenance is basically impossible? One of the issues that we have is that the roof is kind of fucked. Like, in the newer sections, it's fine, and in the older sections, it leaks and we just have big barrels to catch the rainwater, and in the oldest sections there are actual holes. Which is crazy, because the oldest sections are where a lot of the tests happen. Those are almost always the most important parts of the facility. And the holes have been a problem for a while, but it is only "recently" (the last ten years) (yes, that is recent in government time) that the holes got big enough to fit birds.

So we have been getting birds into our secret facility.

This causes several issues.

The first issue is that, surprisingly, the people here are gentle, and they don't like seeing birds die. Some of the old hands are pretty jaded about it, and they have tennis rackets that they used to use for uh... bird removal. But the newer batch threw a fit when they suggested that, so now we have to make a big ordeal out of getting the birds out of the building. And if I sound bitter about it, I'm not - I am one of the people that said absolutely no bird smashing. But it is much easier to catch a bird than it is to just smack it out of the air.

(Another layer of difficulty is the whole "working in a labyrinth" thing. The birds have a lot of places to run.)

The second issue is that sometimes we can't get the birds out, and they die in weird places. This isn't just sad - it makes the test areas smell bad for weeks afterwards, and a lot of us spend the majority of our working hours in those locations. So it's sad and gross and stinky.

And the third issue, which is actually kind of the worst, is that government knows about the "perimeter leaks" (IE, large holes in the ceiling) and instead of fixing the holes, they put extra security measures in place. You know, in case spies climb in through the holes. Which means that, unfortunately, instead of getting the holes fixed, we got a state of the art alarm system, complete with motion detection lasers.

So the birds get in, and we actually can't leave until they get out, because they will, and have, and frequently do, trip the alarms. And when the alarms trip, people get called in to check the site and confirm for the 10,000th time that no, it's not Russians: It's birds.

It's always birds.

(Some of the techs actually kind of enjoy those calls during the weekends, because it means free overtime where there's literally nothing asked of them. Getting the "bird alarm" call is just 4 hours of OT where you check the test cell and confirm, no spies, just birds, then sit there and play checkers or read or whatever until the airforce base calls back and says that it seems safe enough for you to go home.)

(Engineers like those calls less, because we don't get time and a half, and we also don't need the cash quite as much as the techs do.)

Anyway, the crazy scenario is when it's like, 30 minutes to quitting, and a bird gets in. Because now we can't leave until we get the bird out. And the scene that happens is actually quite pretty.

So, the first thing that will happen is that there will be yelling downstairs. The downstairs people are always irate about birds getting in close to quitting. The anger is directed vaguely at the bird, and vaguely at the government, and more specifically at whatever absolute fuckhead bought us an alarm system instead of fixing our roof.

The majority of the crowd of grousing engineers and techs will then move into the upper offices. A couple will break off to grab the floodlight and shine it down the stairs, a few more will prop the doors open, and someone will venture back into the basement to turn off the light.

Click, the light goes off, it's dark, there's this big, warm, yellow pool of light just dripping down the stairs like a river of melted butter, and there's a crowd of tennish people + whoever is poking their heads out of the office to watch. No one will be breathing at all... and then, 9 times out of 10, a little bird will flit out of the basement, up the stairs, towards the light, and trigger the apocalypse.

Everyone chases the bird.

The goal at first is not to catch the bird. That's very difficult, and none of us have very good hand eye coordination. The goal is to thunder along and keep the bird from sitting down and having a breather.

We are there to exhaust the bird.

It is just accepted that this thundering herd will go wherever the bird goes. If your office door is open, and the bird flies in, it doesn't matter what reports you're filling out, or what phone call you're on - you are expected to deal with the panting and scrambling and general primal chaos of the hunting party until the bird goes somewhere else. Eventually, the bird will slow down enough that someone can catch it. This is a semi-coveted position, because, yes, you do get to hold a bird in your hand. And holding a bird is a wonderful thing. They are so soft, and so small, and you feel so careful with the poor thing. But also, it will bite you. Always. And the birds out here bite like needle nose pliers. It hurts so bad. I have been the guy holding the bird before, and it's this kind of beautiful scene again - to be standing there, hands cupped gently around this thing that is chewing the fuck out of the squishy webbing between my thumb and my palm. Tears streaming down my cheeks, surrounded by my little hunting party, that is telling me how much further until the nearest exit, opening all the doors for me. Hushed in the silence as they acknowledge my sacrifice. Inspecting the chomps afterwards and giving their opinion on how long it will be until it stops hurting.

I'm getting a little lost in the sauce here and don't really know how to end this. It's a really good job. Wouldn't be half as fun if it was run in a sane and competent manner.

I'll make this into a post at some point.

[shixcherie]

Switch Me Up Like Nintendo | Jeong Yunho ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 09 : Riling Up, Public Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : Riling Yunho up has its dangerous consequences, but you can't resist the thrill, especially when you know his rewards will leave you craving more. Angry Yunho = GodMode unclocked!

Word Count : 2.1k Genre : Smut, Gamer Au. Pairing : GammerBF! Yunho x GamerGF! Reader

WARNINGS : Established relationship, riling up, angst, dom/sub undertones, soft dom! Yunho, unprotected sex (don’t do it kids, wrap it up), internet cafe public sex, praise, pet names, size kink (its Yunho, so ofc).

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 09 is here with our fav puppy boy, Yunho. ma chéries, I enjoyed writing this so much, hope you love it darlings.☆

Yunho isn't usually a sore loser when playing video games,well, maybe just a little. But repeatedly losing can test anyone's patience, and if you had a hand in his defeat, it's bound to become a problem. A problem you're more than happy to endure, especially when it comes to facing the consequences.

An intense match of Valorant is unfolded between San and Yunho, but with a twist—it's a blindfolded battle. One player is blindfolded while their teammate guides them to take down the opponent and secure a kill. The first team to reach 10 kills wins the match.

It’s you and San versus Yunho and Yuna, and let’s just say your guiding skills are a little too effective, enabling San to successfully kill Yunho every single time. After all, you didn’t reach Immortal rank for nothing.

The first two kills were a breeze, Yunho and Yuna weren’t quite prepared, as Yuna was still warming up to her role as Yunho's guide. Meanwhile, you and San, having played countless matches together, secured easy kills. Yunho wasn’t too bothered at this point, after all, it wasn’t the end of the match yet.

But then came the next five kills. In a flash, you directed San through a series of crazy, sneaky attacks from ridiculously clean headshots, one-tap kills, and to even a jaw-dropping knife kill that sent the crowd into a chorus of cheers. The score was now 7-0, and let’s just say Yunho's patience was wearing thin.The whole internet cafe erupted with cheers as you looked around for familiar faces of your freinds as Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Jongho’s face came into sight.

The match was intense, the tension in the room thick. Yunho was laser-focused, determined to turn things around, while Yuna, now fully in sync with him, guided his every move. But even with San blindfolded, you were in control, leading him with precision, knowing exactly how to push Yunho’s buttons.

“San, let’s take our time… no need to rush. We want to savor every moment before we finish them off.” you whispered, just loud enough for Yunho to hear. The tease in your voice was unmistakable. You heard him let out a low groan, oh…music to your ears. Riling him up slowly and steadily was exactly how you enjoyed it.

With the score at 9-0, you couldn’t help but smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing. Each time San landed a perfect headshot or a sneaky kill, you could see Yunho’s frustration building.

“Sannie, let’s get in close, really close… I want them to feel our every move.” you said, your smirk evident in your voice, a smirk Yunho could almost picture behind his blindfold, one he was eager to wipe away.

It wasn’t just about winning anymore, it was about making him squirm and enjoying the way you were getting under his skin, after all that is when you gonna get your sweet reward, as an angry and frustrated Yunho is a sight to behold. And when he fucks you crazy with your eyes rolled back as he devours you with wet kisses, choking you with the perfect amount of force, a point where pain turns into ecstatic pleasure while overstimulating the heck out you yet not letting you cum.

But as much as you enjoyed riling Yunho up, you didn’t want him to leave completely defeated. There’s a fine line between being playful and harsh. So, as the next round started, you decided to give him a chance.

“San, hold on a moment” you said, your voice carrying a hint of concern. You paused deliberately, giving Yunho and Yuna a chance to catch up. With Yuna’s guidance, Yunho managed to slip through and land a shot on San, finally getting a kill.

The score changed to 9-1, and Yunho’s face lit up with a mix of triumph and something else, he knew what you were doing. Despite being blindfolded, he shot you a playful glare and said, “I’ll be keeping this in mind for later.” His frustration turned into a competitive grin. You’d given him a small win, but it was clear he was plotting his own revenge, a sweet revenge at that.

In the final round, you decided it was time to end the match. With San blindfolded, you guided him with intense focus, directing his every move with precision.

“I love how you follow my every command, San. Now, let’s show them how perfectly we work together.” you said, earning a confident “Fuck yeah! lets finish them off” from San.

“I see you’ve got quite the skill. Maybe I’ll need to have a closer look at your talents later.” Yunho teased, his voice laced with playful intrigue. While his mind was fully focused on the game, his body ached to get up and take you right then and there. The crowd’s noise faded into the background as his thoughts were consumed by you and your sweet voice guiding San, effortlessly overshadowing Yuna’s commands.

“We’re not done yet. Let’s see if you can really finish this.” Yuna shouted, bringing Yunho back to his senses. He tried to focus on the match as much as he could, but despite his efforts, he struggled to keep up.

The tension built as you carefully led San into position, like a predator waiting for the prey you were up with a perfect shot lined up for Yunho - Yuna.

In a dramatic climax, San took a deep breath and landed a flawless single headshot, securing the final kill. The match ended with a thrilling 10-1 victory.

The room erupted in cheers as Yunho and San removed their blindfolds.

San enveloped you in a warm, bone-crushing hug, which barely went unnoticed by Yunho as he thanked Yuna for her guidance. As Yunho made his way toward you and San, his eyes were fixed on yours, a mix of challenge and affection in his gaze. San and Yunho exchanged their usual fist bump and hug, as they always did after game nights.

You’d won the game, but you knew the real victory was yet to come later, when it was just the two of you, and Yunho had the chance to get his sweet revenge for all the teasing you’d put him through.

But for now, you basked in the victory, knowing you’d managed to rile him up just the way you wanted.

—

The party was in full swing as the internet cafe you competed with Yunho celebrated its seven-year anniversary, unaware of the real celebration occurring behind the closed doors of Minho’s office, the owner of the cafe. Music blared at full volume while you and Yunho’s friends danced the night away, sipping on their bottles of soju, completely oblivious to the rhythm in which Yunho was moving his long, hard length against your aching core.

Yunho’s lips moved in perfect sync with yours as his length rubbed in a precise back-and-forth motion against your throbbing core, sweet juices leaking in his wake. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your back pressed firmly against the wall, clothes discarded in some dark corner of the room.

“Yuyu… I-I can’t… I nee-need you,” you stammered, barely able to form a coherent sentence as his slow, delicious movements against your aching core clouded your mind. “Too much,” you whimpered, a soft cry escaping your lips. Yunho’s mouth nibbled on your earlobe, making you squirm, your cries muffled by the loud music outside.

“Too much? That’s cute, baby. Didn’t you say something about savoring the moment to San earlier?” he teased, biting your earlobe and earning a sharp yelp from you. “That’s exactly what I’m doing—savoring you bit by bit,” he chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Yunho, I—” you tried to protest, but his pace increased, the friction intensifying as he moved back and forth faster, making your toes curl. Soft, desperate moans escaped your lips like prayers, as if calling for angels.

“Speechless already, baby?” he mocked, pulling his head back to touch foreheads with you, savoring every expression on your face. Your eyes were tightly shut, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and your lips, still swollen from the earlier kiss, were now caught between your teeth as you bit down to control the sounds of pleasure his movements brought you. The sight of you—lost in the moment—was almost enough to finish him, but he decided to drag this out just a little longer.

“Tell me what you want, and maybe I’ll give it to you, pretty,” he asked, offering a flicker of hope that he’d finally give in. But then he added with a teasing grin, “Just like you gave me one chance.”

“I want you, Yunho… buried deep inside me, so deep I’m seeing angels,” you panted, your voice trembling with desperation. “F-fuck me harder than ever before. Make my legs give out, make me go completely dumb. I don’t care; just please, make me cum already. I need you more than I need to breathe.”

Your words tumbled out in a messy, breathless rush, a plea so raw it felt like you were confessing your deepest desires. Yunho’s low chuckle sent shivers down your spine as he gripped your waist tighter, teasingly brushing his lips against your ear.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he whispered, voice full of amusement, but his gaze was anything but playful. "I'll give you everything you're begging for... and more." With that, his teasing finally came to an end.

Lining himself up perfectly at your dripping entrance, Yunho slowly pushed in, his thick tip stretching you inch by inch. The sharp sting quickly melted into pure pleasure as you struggled to adjust to his monstrous size. No matter how many times Yunho had fucked you, it was always a challenge for your small body to take him, especially when he was angry. But that never stopped you from teasing him, pushing his buttons whenever you could.

Your nails dug into his back as waves of pleasure shot through your body, your walls gripping him tightly as he bottomed out inside you. Yunho’s mind short-circuited at how tight you were, like it was the first time all over again, no matter how often he took you.

“You’re so big, Yuyu,” you whined, your voice trembling. “I might break apart.” His slow, deliberate movements inside you were torturous, teasing you to the brink, but you could feel the anticipation building for what was coming next.

“Keep up, babygirl,” he groaned, his breath hot against your neck as you clenched even tighter around him. “You’re taking me so well... I might just lose it and empty myself deep inside you.” His voice was thick with lust, wanting to completely mess you up.

As Yunho’s pace quickened, each thrust grew harder and deeper, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. His fast rhythm made your mind hazy, every movement driving you closer to the edge, while his lips left soft kisses along your shoulder.

“You take me so well, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against your skin. “I can feel you trembling.” He pressed another kiss to your shoulder.

You could barely form words, your body already teetering on the edge, each thrust pulling you closer to the breaking point. “Y-Yunho, I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” he growled, pulling back slightly before driving in even deeper. His hips snapped against yours, sending tremors through your entire body. “I want to feel you cum around me, baby. Give me a taste, won’t you?”

The intensity of his words overwhelmed you, pushing you right to the edge. His deep, rhythmic thrusts filled you perfectly, and with each stroke, your moans grew louder, your body unable to resist any longer.

“Now, baby,” Yunho whispered, his voice laced with satisfaction. That was all it took for you to fall apart, the tension inside you unraveling in waves as you cried out his name, your release crashing down hard.

Feeling you clench tightly around him, Yunho groaned deeply, his movements growing more erratic until he thrust one final time, releasing inside you. Good thing you were on birth control, because with how intense it was, this day you would’ve definitely ended up pregnant with his baby. You both stayed still for a moment, breathing heavily as the aftershocks of pleasure slowly faded away.

After a while, you both made your way out of Minho’s office, fully dressed and somewhat recovered from the intense make-out session.

You rejoined your friends, continuing the party as if nothing had happened in that room, like you two had never played your own intimate game of switching moods like a Nintendo console, moving up, down, left, and right, enjoying each other's pleasures.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[lipglossanon]

Day 22

Kink: Bondage

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Las Plagas!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, bondage, Leon POV, coercion, noncon with hints of cnc, aphrodisiacs, dirty talk, degradation, unprotected sex, breeding kink AND breeding 👀, creampie

not proofread

Leon thinks it’s a lab he’s stumbled into; it would make sense with all the other crazy shit down here. Like who the hell needs killer laser grids as security?

But it’s different from the other ones he’s been in so far; there are full fledged humans floating in tanks in the middle of the room with a bank of computers off to the side. Walking over, he checks the screens to see if he can make heads or tails of anything. 

That’s when you stumble into the room, wearing an ill fitting outfit, like a girl playing dress up as a scientist. 

He turns, gun aiming at you but with his finger off the trigger. 

“Who’re you?”

“Me?” You blink at him, one eye at a time like an owl. 

Frowning at you, he quickly glances to make sure his safety is off before stepping closer. 

“What’s your name?” 

He tries a different approach; you look like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet—in other words, fucked. 

You look around in confusion, hand raising up to press against your temple. 

“I-I don’t remember,” you whisper. “I don’t know where this is or, or how I got here.”

You stutter over your words, voice rising in panic. Wild eyes turn back to him. 

“Did you bring me here?!”

Holstering his gun, Leon holds his hands out placatingly, “Hey.. hey, I can help you. The name’s Leon.”

Your brows furrow cutely and he gives you a little smile. 

“Why don’t we take a look around and see if anything jogs your memory?”

He poses it as question although it’s more of a directive. Something to give you some focus. Leon takes point and covers the entire room with you as his shadow. Coming across a clipboard on the corner table, he pauses to look through the list of names. Each line holds a name with a description of the person, all next to a little box that lists what experiment they fall under as well as any outcomes. 

The next to last name is smudged to hell and back, so Leon can’t make it out at all, but you fit the description to a T; alarm bells blaring in his brain, Leon steels himself to read the rest. 

A handful of words jump out at him:

Infected. Test run: Queen Plaga. ACTIVE. 

It takes a lot to make Leon feel caught off guard—especially since he’s already neck deep into this nightmare mission—but your presence at his back makes him feel vulnerable in an entirely different way. 

Placing the clipboard back down, he tries to keep up his nonchalant, helpful persona. 

“Is anything coming back to you at all?” He turns around to face you, but it’s only empty space. 

His eyes catch on a door closing on the other side of the room; it blends in perfectly with the walls once it shuts, so he keeps his eye on it as he walks over. Gently easing it open, he raises his gun as he moves into the room. It’s an office, divided with partitions into three cubicles from what he can tell. 

Leon can hear you moving around at the far end, muttering to yourself. Sneaking closer, he steps around the gray divider, pointing his gun at you. 

“Let’s just take it easy,” he glances around to make sure the office is truly empty; in doing so, he misses the tail slowly descending from your lab coat. 

Quicker than a flash, you wrap your new appendage around his chest, pinning his arms in place. A quick swipe of your hands at his own, makes him drop the gun and he listens to it hit the ground with a metal clatter. 

You shove him down into a chair, tail tightening around him so he can’t move. His mind flashes to the fight he had earlier with Rámon’s right hand.

“I-I didn’t want this,” you tear up. “I was sick. They said they could help me, so I came here and now I.. I-I’m different.”

“Don’t panic,” Leon softens his voice. “Look, we can get you help. There’s a machine down here that can get rid of it.”

Hands shaking, you bring them up to squeeze your head. 

“I want that, but—“

Doubling over, you gasp in pain, hands dropping down to your pelvis. Leon watches as you collapse onto your knees. He wiggles, but your tail doesn’t budge an inch. You convulse for half a minute as he watches on in sympathy. He struggles again, but it leads to nowhere. As fast as your symptoms came on, they stop. 

Under his gaze, you push yourself back up onto your feet, body moving oddly, like a marionette. 

“Are you okay? If you let me go, I can help—“

Your head snaps up and you give him a big toothpaste ad kinda smile. 

“Oh, everything’s fine. Perfectly in sync.”

You frown at him and Leon’s heart rate picks up. Something’s off in a big way and he’s practically a sitting duck. 

“But you, you got rid of my gift.”

It feels like ice water douses his veins. 

You click your tongue, “And that just won’t do, will it, Leon?”

He tries harder to get out of your grip, but after a few minutes he slumps back into the chair, winded and defeated. 

“Silly,” you shake your head, turning your attention to the desk. 

He eyes the cables you begin to rip out of everything. Once you think you have enough, you walk right up to him. Your hands make quick work of tying his arms and legs to the chair. Once he’s secured, you remove your tail. 

“There,” you step back with another smile. “We can have a civil transaction.”

He tugs at his arms uselessly, the power cables cutting into his wrists and making him bleed. 

You straddle his lap, “Now, be a good boy and this will all be over soon.”

Dread weighs heavy on his chest as you quickly undo his pants and pull out his soft cock. He bucks underneath you, but it doesn’t do any good. You tease your fingers across his tip and he starts to chub up. Leon’s always been easy, but he’s never hated himself for it more than now. 

“Don’t do this,” he pleads. “We can—“

“Uh uh,” you chastise playfully, pushing three of your fingers into his mouth. “Good boys are seen not heard.”

His cock leaks at your words. You feather your fingers up and down his growing length until he’s stiff and heavy in your hand. His tip blurts precum when you giggle at him. 

“My, my, what an eager, little boy,” you whisper at him like it’s a secret. 

His cock throbs in your hand at your mocking endearment. 

“Now, Agent,” you sit up straighter in his lap, fingers tapping against his tongue. “Since you so cruelly removed my sweet plagas from your chest, you’ll gift me with your seed.”

Your other hand slowly jerks him off and he whimpers. 

“Breed me and we’ll call it even,” you murmur, eyes half lidded; Leon can’t stop his cock from twitching. 

“Oh?” You grin, tail coming up to wrap around his chest again. “You like breeding soft, hot cunts, don’t you?”

He wishes you’d just kill him, embarrassment and shame filling his chest as his cock stiffens and bobs in your grip. 

“Don’t worry,” you let go of his dick to pat his cheek. “You’re going to creampie me for as long as I need.”

You slide your fingers from his mouth and kiss him, drooling so much saliva he has to swallow before he chokes. Pulling away, he coughs as you shove your fingers back into his mouth. 

“A little aphrodisiac never hurt anyone,” you laugh, raising your hips to slide your slacks and panties completely off.

The blood rushing through his ears muffles anything you just said. You settle back down, sandwiching his cock between your thighs to grind your wet slit against him. Using your free hand, you grab the base of his dick and notch it at your drippy hole. Leon groans against your fingers as he feels you sink all the way down on him, balls pressing against your ass. 

You raise up with a mewl and sink down on his cock again. 

“Oh, this feels…” you trail off with a moan. 

He can’t stop himself and starts sucking and laving his tongue against your fingers. His whole body feels like it’s on fire and wants nothing more than to cum deep in your fat pussy. He knows he shouldn’t like it, but Leon can’t think past the slow deep strokes of his cock fucking your cunt. 

“Good boy, you’ve learned your place so quickly,” you croon and he groans, arousal making his thoughts syrupy. 

“Your balls must be so full,” you simper next to his ear, walls fluttering and squeezing his cock like crazy. “It aches, doesn’t it? You just need to empty those fat, heavy balls deep into my pussy; it’ll feel so good.”

Leon can’t take it, your snug little pussy gripping his cock like you were made for it. Shuddering, his eyes roll back as he spills deep inside your cunt. 

“Ooh, yess, that’s it Agent, breed me full,” you murmur against his ear and he shoots off a few more ropes of cum into your clenching hole. 

“Doesn’t that feel nice? Breeding such a wet, needy pussy?”

His thighs twitch and he whines around the fingers in his mouth. It’s like you’ve dosed him with something, he thinks, as his cock thickens again, stretching your cum filled pussy once more. 

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” you promise.