#do i need a smut tag

[formula-fun]

ON TODAYS EPISODE OF LINES THAT MAKE ME CRAZY

this is a little long but I couldn't help it

"They’re back in the desert again for the first time since Charles was pregnant, on another planet again, the sand so unfamiliar from his home—from Flanders and Limburg with their thick forests and heavy rains and comforting warm food designed to stick to his ribs. It’s different from Monaco, his real home port, a dreamworld where he can find clear water and perpetual sunrise and Charles, most of the time. 

The desert is a dreamworld too, but different. It’s endless and ancient and inviting, the flatness of Bahrain starting at the edge of the tarmac and then falling off the edge of the map, like if they turned and drove into it they could go forever and ever. The hotel has a plate of things set out on the bed like he’s on his honeymoon, roses on a gold tray beside tiny dishes of sticky pastries and nuts. An hour later Charles is laughing in his bed as he licks honey off his fingers. 

“They’re just like in Capri,” Charles tells him, and the memory explodes on his tongue, a phantom ache of too-sweet. Charles’ face screws up a little every time he eats one of these, here and now—tiny bits of dough, perfectly round, alarmingly orange and shiny as glass. His mouth is shiny too, and they must be painfully sweet for the face he keeps making and the way he laughs after, delighted. "

these descriptions are actually insane,,,,,, especially the "tiny bits of dough, perfectly round, alarmingly orange and shiny as glass" for some reason is just lighting up some specific neurons in my brain I was just hand to my mouth reading and rereading

And then this

"Charles smells honey-sweet after, and after the race. His heat is on the way. Max isn’t sure if he knows it and is ignoring it, or if Max has noticed it before he has. It’s not common, but he does sometimes, and Charles has been distracted with other things.

When he comes to Charles after the race Charles kisses him hard and stinging. Charles likes his pleasure rough and unrelenting more often than not, and especially after a race. He wants to be pinned down and fucked across the mattress, but Max knows what’s good for him, and that won’t quiet his head down. He drags him closer instead, his skin hot beneath the blankets—drags him up and up, until Charles is sitting on his face, his forearms against the headboard, letting out little moans and frustrated sounds. His hips keep jerking like he doesn’t know where to go and every few minutes he tries to roll away entirely. Max doesn’t let him. He digs his fingers into his thighs every time he tries, forcing him through the slow, inevitable build of it until Charles falls apart against his mouth with a broken moan."

this is post suzukaaaaaa he's distracted bc hes trying to find a COURTING GIFT

also? jfc this is soooooo hot what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck 🕳️🚶

ok last bit

"You are very proud,” Charles protests half-heartedly, “if you think I need you this badly. I am fine on my own.”

Charles is teasing him, but it still stings a little. It’s been a few months; Charles has been on his own more often than not, or at least he has if he hasn’t been seeing anyone else. Still, it’s a sharp reminder.

“I don’t need you. You know that,” Charles says, and then his eyes are back on Max’s all at once. He tugs at his hair. “I want you. I always want you.”

I'm just,,,,, whattttttttt the fuuuuuuckkkkkkk

the way that his agency and independance and confidence in his identity is underlined throughout the fic almost thoughtlessly bc it's so obvious to both of them make me want to pull out my hair

the way that throughout he's CHOOSING him

ITS HIS CHOICE. THAT HES MAKING, CONCIOUSLY. BC HE WANTS IT. HE DOESNT NEED IT, BUT HE WANTS IT

im so in love with this series it's not even funny

☀️

jsfkdgksdfjsdkf hellOOOO WELCOME BACKK

this is a pro fried dough fic.....the dough in that scene is lokma which i have never had but which i NEED. specifically the ones from the photo in the wikipedia article like hhh theyre so orange and shiny and they look SOO good. every time the words honey or orange appear in this fic you can be assured that max is in a setting where he feels secure enough for self reflection and personal growth

🕳️🚶 <- this sent me btw so thank you for that hahsahshas

and both of these last two kinda go with the same idea of wants vs needs in a way?? they both started seeing each other originally because of needs but it's developing into want, and that becomes so important to them :( the whole thing is abt choice tbh, cause charles never exactly chose him to begin with and he didnt choose to get pregnant, but NOW he's choosing him when it's all over and there's no reason he has to. he doesn't really need him anymore. he's choosing him because he wants him!!! does any of this mean anything

[captainswhore]

you see price sitting like this when you walk into a room post mission- and you know exactly what it is he needs.

he's licking at you and holding your thighs open with his rough palms- and you can't take it. his calluses and his beard and the fabric of his sleeves are rubbing at your legs just right- but not enough for you to lose focus on his hot tongue rubbing on you and in you and you've never been wetter in your LIFE.

his only problem? you're still moving too much. he can't reach where he wants to inside of you because you keep wiggling out of his way. his hands want to touch you everywhere- not just hold your thighs still. this is when he begins to squeeze at you everywhere, and tell you to rest your thighs on his shoulders.

"b-but price- hhnngh ohmygod- i c-can't. they're too big. thighs are too big"

you whine at the loss of contact, but then you look down and see him staring at you with massive pupils and a wet face. "lovie- my shoulders are broad for a reason. rest your thighs on em and i swear they'll have enough room"

and you listen, and you're crushing his ears with your thighs, and he's never been happier. the next time you look down? he's rutting into the mattress and you see his hips stutter when he groans into you and your vision goes white

(@chamomiletealeaf and i had SUCH A HORNY discussion about this and she told me to post it so here i am- and also omg photo creds to her. we've gotta reign it in lmfao)

[tartagliove]

Thinking about fox shifter!Childe who loves to chase bunny shifter!Reader. He chased you when he first met you, fox paws pinning you down in your squirming rabbit form, until you wore yourself out and he took you home with him. But after he knows you, he still loves the chase.

The tinge of instinctual fear intermingled with nervous thrill in your scent makes his blood pump. His fox ears are out, tail streaming behind him as he chases after you, following the noises you make as you bound and leap through the forest, trying to stretch out the distance between you and him.

You’re fast, but Childe has trained tirelessly over the years to hone his senses and master his body—both human and fox form, and the in-betweens. So he gains on you, your scent growing stronger to the point he can almost taste it.

He can tell you’re tiring.

Once he closes the distance and catches you, hands wrapping around your waist and spinning you around, he pushes you up against a tree. Before you can get a word out, he tears through the sleeve of your shirt with sharp claws, his fox features still present with the adrenaline running through his veins. Your noise of surprise is ignored. He swipes his tongue along your neck, savoring the taste of your skin: slightly salty from running, but your sweet scent is so strong here. Childe can hear your blood pumping, see your pulse fluttering, and he can’t help himself.

He bites.

Sinks his teeth into your skin, where your neck curves into your shoulder. You whine in shock at the sting of pain, but a shiver runs down your spine. His canines are sharper than a normal human’s, but he takes care to not break skin—this time.

He pulls back slowly when you thump your fist into his chest.

“Get off! Why did you have to go and tear my top?”

Childe runs his tongue over his teeth. He can taste you on his tongue, in his mouth, and he grins. “You ran from me.”

Your fingers brush over his bite mark. “I thought that was the whole point of what we planned,” you complain. “Why am I getting punished for it?”

“That’s not a punishment,” he says, blue eyes darkening. “It’s a reminder that I’ll always catch you, no matter how far you run.” He’ll be satisfied with the possessive mark left on your neck for now. It will fade in a few days, but that will be the perfect excuse for him to chase you again.

[harbingersglory]

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints

"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."

The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.

"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."

The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.

"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"

Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.

"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.

She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.

"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.

How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.

She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.

She certainly wants to, and she intends to.

The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.

"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."

Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.

She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.

Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.

She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.

For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.

She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.

[lovrsin]

sweet | j.schlossberg

warnings: p0rn no plot, oral (r recieving), fingering, praise, petnames (angel, baby, doll, sweetheart), squirting, calls himself daddy, he’s a tini bit mean at the end :(, chat i do not know how to write shit after the smut is over, i RUSHED this so my apologies if it’s not the best

parings: jack schlossberg x f!reader

“i need you. right now.”

those five words was all it took for you to end up like this. naked, legs spread impossibly wide, with jacks head buried into your cunt as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. his tongue wildly lapped at your swollen clit like he was a dog dying of thirst. his fingers plunged into you, his fingertips kissing the spongy spot deep inside you until your mind was fuzzy.

you didnt know what gotten into him. he had never been this messy and relentless with you before. you desperately tried to unlatch your cunt from him by pulling away only to be met with his whiny voice. “pleasepleaseplease angel just one more then we’ll stop,” he sputtered against your pussy. “j’st can’t get ‘nough of your pretty pussy, doll"

if it weren’t for your dazed state you would’ve known it was far from the last orgasm. you should've pushed him away and saved yourself from the hours of torture he was about to perform on you pussy, but you simply nodded and let out a squeaky "okay".

your body felt numb, yet you felt every little graze at the same time. you felt so utterly exposed. his long fingers trusted in and out of your squelching cunt. the sounds were pornographic, the loud wet sounds coming from between your legs mixed with both of your moans made your pussy throb and your stomach tighten.

“m’ close !!” you cried out.

“c’mon sweetheart,” his voice was muffled. “you can do it baby, cum all over daddy’s face”

the feeling of your gummy walls contract around his fingers only made his desire to make you cum stronger. his tongue swirled around your clit, his fingers curled deep into you. and with one final thrust of his fingers and caress of his tongue, you came undone.

it was if the earth stopped moving on its axis. all the oxygen was ripped from your lungs as you screamed through your orgasm. you gushed all over his face, spraying your sweet juices all in his mouth.

“d’ you just squirt, dolly?” it came out as a laugh more than a question.

“mgfh” you groaned, rolling over on your side and curling up into a fetal position.

he grabbed your ankles and pulled you back towards the edge of the bed.

“ah ah ah, we’re not done yet baby,” he smirked. “did you really think i’d make you cum once and let you go to sleep? what’s with that dumb lil’ brain of yours today, sweet thing?”

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taglist 🫶🏻: @jamesdeanswife @unhing3dprincess @sweetestgirlintown111 @sediadaa @trustingmina @rue77 @jhopezwrld @iameatingmyhair @ch6rrycoke @bebanie @mafiaswitch @clusterachehead

[murdrdocs]

OMG YAYAYAYYAYA anyway.

above ryan being sexy and funny and smart (he goes to an ivy after all) he’s just POSSESIVE

he likes marking his s/o up and making sure people know that they’re taken. he likes buying them clothes in his school colors and he takes pride in seeing them walk around in all of it

not to mention he’s definitely good in bed but that’s for another time

this is so the vibes of this piece by @/cozymaples and ur both so right

he has what's his, and it's his for a reason. why would he even dream of sharing? he doesn't want to share, you don't want to be shared, but other people can't seem to get the memo. and ryan can't be around all the time to make sure everyone else knows that you're taken so he does what he can.

he buys you harvard sweatshirts that he graciously drenches in his overpriced cologne, knowing that when someone asks if you go there, you'll tell them that he does instead. he adores seeing you wear the crimson merch around town, but even more he likes seeing you wear them with nothing else on. he gifts you a charm bracelet for christmas one year, one that he knows people will compliment so each time you're able to say your boyfriend bought it for you. and because he knows sometimes this won't suffice, he keeps you marked up, despite your complaints that it's embarrassing when you're having lunch with your mother and she squints at your bruised neck.

but he's not having it, big hands on your hips as you stand in front of him. "c'mon, babe. you know what time it is," he always tells you with a small smile, head lolled back at he stares up at you with big brown eyes. you'll pout, try to dissuade him once more hoping that this time he'll listen. which, he doesn't, and you end up with ryan's lips abusing the previously healed and unmarked skin of your jugular until you're left with marks that'll definitely bruise. and he always sits back with a pleased expression, swollen lips curled up into a proud smile before he spreads your legs and situates himself between them to give you your prize for behaving so obediently.

[st4rd0lly]

mmmm… thinking about how dazai would randomly place you up on the countertop, standing between your legs before bringing your knees up your chest, kissing you throughout all of this and he presses his bulge against you before walking away

[yuwuta]

yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Heyy! I hope you have a nice day :)

So it's my first time requesting something and im a bit embarrassed about my kink. So my kink is spanking so maybe poly hanmy x fem reader x kisaki where the reader has also a spanking kink but is too shy to tell them so on a random day she ask them to talk but cant really find the words and just maybe grab a hairbrush and lays themself over kisakis lap and gives him the hairbrush but hanma knew what she wanned and make her say it like "oh honey what do ya want hmm~~" and than kisaki start spanking her until her ass is deep red. (aftercare ofc with a bath and putting cream on her sore ass) 🫶

HanKisa x Shy!Reader w/ Spanking Kink

♡ NSFW, fem reader, reader wears a skirt, Hanma is a tease, lowkey service dom!Kisaki, this happens in your living room if you even care lol, spanking with a hair brush (plastic or wood, it's not specified), husbands!HanKisa, pet names (bunny, darling), fluffy aftercare ♡

note: thanks for requesting anon 🩷 love me some HanKisa 😮‍💨

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Some things were hard to put into words, so you decided to not say anything and let your actions speak for you. And that would've worked fine, if your husbands weren't absolute tools sometimes. As you laid across Kisaki's lap and handed him your hairbrush, he had a perplexed look on his face.

"What's the matter darling? Need something?"

All you could do was nod shyly, thinking that he'd pick up on what you wanted. But he was honestly twice as confused as before.

"Do you need me to brush your hair? Why do I need a brush?...Am I supposed to be brushing my hair? Shuji's hair?"

Per usual, Kisaki was overthinking things. He tended to do this a lot, but it was a good thing that Hanma was around to figure out your little game of charades. He let out a deep chuckle at the scene in front of him, running his fingers through his hair. He knew exactly what you wanted, but he wanted to hear you say it first.

"Aww bunny, what d'ya need from us, huh? Be a big girl and use your words."

You could feel your face heating up as you mumbled an incoherent sentence.

"Speak up darling, we can't hear you."

"I..I want you to spank me.."

Hanma's face lit up, his smirk growing wide as he looked at the brush in Kisaki's hand.

"Well Kisaki, go on. Give bunny what she wants ♡"

Kisaki pulled your skirt up and gripped the brush handle tighter before bringing the flat back of the brush down on your behind, the loud smacks of the brush hitting your skin echoing in the room. Your skin was a deep shade of red by the time he was done, your ass sore and aching.

"Aww, you did so good for us bunny, pretty ass is so red~"

Hanma's hand glided gently over the curve of your ass, making sure not to put too much pressure on it.

"You did real good darling," Kisaki sits his hand on your back, running his thumb over your spine. "Shuji, go run our pretty wife a bath."

Hanma nods and makes his way to the bathroom, running you a nice warm bath and pouring some bubble bath into the water along with some essential oils. He comes back into the living room and lifts you up from Kisaki's lap, carefully carrying you into the bathroom and sitting you in the tub. The two of them spent the rest of the night pampering you, smothering you in kisses and soft touches. As you laid between the both of them, they took turns massaging your ass until you fell asleep, feeling extra grateful for you and your little kink.

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx

[rottin6]

layla beloved your frat initiation bartylily chasing-in-the-woods concept is something that i think about…. so frequently. haunts me. i don’t even need you write it atp i just need more THOUGHTS 😭

stopppp it i'm giggling at the thought of them 'cause they're so nasty @sommerregenjuniluft is wholly partly to blame

like picture it, frat boy barty daddy issues barty n trust fund barty all in one, like my guy has issues on top of issues. he's made to go to uni by his dad and (idk how frats work i am british) he's in his third and final year of his degree, and he's the president of the frat obviously cause so was his dad and so was his dad and so on

lily, however, loathes him. she thinks the absolute worst of him but she's never even spoken to him. she just hates what he comes from and all that stuff. she's doing a journalism degree and writes for the college paper, like she's on her grind trying to get through uni

one day lily gets some inside scoop that barty's frat is hosting an initiation ritual that apparently happens every night but no one actually knows what goes down so she makes it her mission to get in so she can publish it in the paper and ruin his image and all that jazz

AND THEN she gets there the night of the ritual and barty sees her and he knows who she is cause she hates him that much and and the ritual basically

the existing frat boys are recruiting the new year boys and as part of the initiation they get chased in the woods and the older years wear masks n shit and it’s fucked up in every sense, like they get their chase and it’s perverted and just so…barty if that makes sense

but it’s just an initiation for the boys, no one else at all so lily has to sneak in and she thinks she’s all slick hiding behind trees n stuff but then

barty creeps up behind her, an ache in the pit of his stomach. even in the night, he hates how he can recognise her by her stupid red hair. there’s an animalistic urge to pull on it, to yank her back into him, but instead he snakes his arm around her throat, his bicep pressing on her pulse. his other hand covers her mouth and he can feel the way her body shakes, how it squirms against him, and he tuts, shaking his head.

now obviously lily fights back, she hits her head back into his face and his lip’s bleeding and all but my barty’s huge, like this guy is built so he’s stronger than her and he’s had enough—he tightens his hold on her, pinning her against the tree and he’s pissed as fuck. he’s pressing his body against hers so she can’t move, also holding her by her throat cause he likes the feel of her panicking and how she gulps. he’s grinning like a madman, wiping the blood off his lip with his thumb and he’s all like “you can’t come and not play the game, doll.” and she’s crying, shaking her head and she’s begging him to stop but but

he lifts a leg up, pushing his knee on her stomach and he begins to undo his belt with one hand, the other stroking the side of her face. it’d be romantic in any other situation if not for the fact that lily thinks she’s well and truly going to die. he spits on the ground to the side of them, his thick cock pulsing at the sight of her tears. he relishes in the view, at her lips quivering and the way she still begs him to stop. it’s cute, he thinks.

and then at some other point

“are you—are you getting off on this?” barty snickers, his fingers trailing across the dampness on her panties. he watches the way she closes her eyes tight, her lips parting slightly. “you’re a sick bitch, y’know that, doll? a pretty fuckin whore, coming out here, thinkin’—thinkin’ you can just do what you want, hm?”

but she still struggles against him, trying to fight cause that’s just lily evans but he’s licking his lips, shaking his head and the next thing she knows is he’s taking out a gun from the waistband of his jeans, he’s got it to the bottom of her chin, murmuring, “i really wish you wouldn’t do that,” but she doesn’t care, she tries to wriggle out of his hold and he tightens his grip on her, moving the gun to her forehead, “don’t fuckin move. you move and i’ll fuckin shoot you, okay? you got it?”

“barty, please...” lily pleads with him, as he yanks her by her hair.

“barty, please,” he mocks. “jesus, you're fucking pathetic. you’re lucky that i haven't put a bullet in that pretty fucking skull of yours yet.”

and at some point she’s running again, after kicking him in the groin obviously and he’s chasing after her, he’s in love with the chase, getting so high off it and then he’s tackling her to the ground, mud over the both of them. he’s on top of her, gripping her by both her dimples and pushing her face down into the ground

“i know the shit you say about me, what you write about me in that—in that little paper of yours.” he’s breathing heavily, pulling the zipper down on his jeans as he mounts over her. “i should kill you right now,” he whispers heavily against her ear. “but that's not what you want, is it? you want me to fuck you, right here on the dirty fucking ground, don’t you?” he smiles, demented. and he moves the gun down to her mouth. "just a dirty little whore that wants to get filled with dick, right?"

and then they have hot steamy sex in the middle of the woods 🏌🏽‍♀️

[campingwiththecharmings]

it's been too long since i've sent something debilitatingly horny to you, so here:

edit: im sorry its so long and plot-y 😭 i've never written for poe and got too excited.

imagine being a first order commander in charge of coaxing information from poe dameron. the first batch of interrogators (a couple stormtroopers) couldn't get a thing out of him so you were called in as back up.

GIF by antagonistenthusiast

you've had a few interactions with poe (as you're both renowned pilots), but you've never actually seen his face. you've only communicated through radios -- well, communicated is a strong word, you've taunted and growled at each other from a distance...

needless to say, you were intrigued to finally meet this 'poe dameron' that you've been chasing around since you became a flight officer.

you're shocked when you see him, not because he's battered and barely conscious, but because he's prettier than you expected.

GIF by one-blog-to-whump-them-all

of course, he's fucking pretty. he's the resistance's flyboy, the general's favorite, complete with a cut jawline, pouty lips and perfect curls.

it enrages you.

long dark lashes frame half-lidded eyes as you approach him. his body is strapped tight to a chair, but he doesn't seem bothered by it. he's so unbothered, in fact, that he immediately greets you with one of his annoying quips:

"you the good cop?" you're sure it would've sounded better if his voice wasn't so hoarse and broken -- not that you didn't enjoy that sound. there's something about a ruined man that immediately sparks a flame inside of you.

"no, they were the good cops." you refer to the storm troopers that left him this way. "i'm the bad cop, and i like to do things a bit differently..."

you can see it on his face: he recognizes you, or your voice, but he doesn't know from where.

"can't fly away anymore, can you, dameron?"

it finally dawns on him, "you." he almost looks...happy about the revelation.

"yeah, me." his stare is intense and interested, and he's not trying to hide it at all.

cocky bastard.

"y'now i didn't expect such a bea--"

you roll your eyes, "ok, let's stop with all this chatter."

there's a piece of paper sticking out of the breast pocket of his leather jacket, folded several times to fit securely in the space.

"you got something for me?" you coo, voice sickly sweet all of the sudden.

you reach out, gliding your hand from his shoulder to his chest, feeling the smooth leather rise and lower under your fingers as he starts to breathe harder. he pushes against your touch like he's touch deprived, like he's been waiting for this moment all his life.

oh, he's easy.

you snicker as you pluck the paper out, taking a second to wag it tauntingly in front of his face.

"what're you...HEY! THAT'S MINE."

bingo

you open it up, satisfied by how fluidly this interrogation is going. once you deliver this to ren, you're sure to get a promotion.

when you see what's inside, you glower: it's just a worn photo of some BB-droid.

"really?" you give him an unimpressed look. "what, is this your pet or something?"

"he's my driod! my little buddy!"

"ok...so we'll do this the hard way."

---

it starts with pain, but it never seems to be enough. he's -- laughing! he's taunting you, groaning out "is that all you got" or whispering a hoarse "i could do this all day".

you realize you're methods will have to be a bit...unconventional to get your point across. you saw how he reacted to your touch, how he looks at you, even when you're punching him in the face.

you know what you need to do, you're just not sure that you could take it.

GIF by joker1315

you take the step -- blurring the line between pain and pleasure.

it's for the first order, you tell yourself, but you're enjoying it.

you're breathing almost as hard as he is -- you need it just as much as he does.

you've been edging him about an hour now. he whines when you slow your hand again, leaving him right at the brink of release. metal clangs and groans as he pulls against his restraints.

"please, please, please..."

"you know what i need." you squeeze him, not tightly, but just enough to drive him wild. "just one word -- the planet -- and i'll give it to you. i'll let you cum all over yourself."

"c-can't."

"can't? or won't?" you swipe your thumb over his leaking tip. he's literally pulsing in your hold.

"fuck!" he yells out a name, one you immediately memorize, desperate voice and all.

;dlfsl;dfgk oh oh oh ohhhhhhh my goddddddddddddd

no but like, the fact that poe was also kind of into the whole thing though?? him arching into your touch, shooting you heated glances even when you're torturing him, like he likes being at your mercy?????? please send help 🫠🫠🫠

(**WARNING: here there be smut and it could potentially be considered dub-con so read at your own risk**)

if you thought he was pretty before, it's nothing compared to how he looks when he comes--his jaw slack, head thrown back, baring his glorious neck (a neck you just wanna bite), his sweaty curls deliciously mussed, eyes closed in ecstasy as he makes a mess of himself and your hand.

heavenly, you think. the sight is heavenly.

unable to resist, you kiss him softly, so contradictory to the rough way you'd been handling him. he sighs, sagging against his restraints as he kisses you back, his breath fanning across your cheek. you tell him he's a good boy when you pull away and he whines, trying to follow your lips, his mouth gaping, pupils blown wide with lust. he's so drunk on you, on the pleasure you've given him, he'd probably give you whatever you wanted right now; the knowledge fills you with glee. you smile, running a hand down his chest before tucking him back in his trousers.

he comes back to himself when you move to leave, his eyes growing a little harder, jaw clenching as you tell him that you look forward to working with him again.

unfortunately, ren isn't around for you to give him the intel poe gave you, so you hold onto it, intent on telling him when he returns. that night though, you can't sleep, can't stop thinking about poe's breathy whines and whimpers and how pretty he looked begging you to let him come. it's all you can think about, the urge to go to him so strong. so you go, shooing the guards from his cell and going inside. he's asleep, still tied up but removed from the rack he'd been on earlier, bloodied and bruised and beautiful. you allow yourself a moment to study him, eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, of his brow, his nose.

then you take him in your hand, squeezing and stroking, his pretty little noises going straight to your core. you want him, you realize, want to claim him, want to make him yours. the urge is so strong it makes you a little angry--that he could have so much power over you in this state is...well, it's unacceptable.

maybe you just need to fuck him, you reason, to get it out of your system. so you do, straddling him and sheathing his hardness inside your warm, wet cunt. he sounds (and looks) even prettier like this, beneath you, his moans breathy, breathing ragged as you ride him. he feels so good inside you, the stretch of his cock scratching an itch you didn't even realize you had. he watches at you with wide, attentive eyes, hips pushing up to meet yours as you impale yourself on him again and again.

you see stars when you come, cunt clenching around his cock as you throw your head back with a strangled moan. he's still hard and inside you when you come down, his ragged breaths reaching your ears. the look in his eyes is almost reverent when you meet them, and when he begs you to let him come inside you, a little piece of your heart crumbles.

you leave his cell, swearing to yourself that you'll never do it again, that you'll tell ren what you've learned and that dameron will be executed and it'll all be done.

but you don't. can't.

you keep the information you learned to yourself so your trysts with him can continue. every day you go to his cell, send away the guards, and fuck him. you start to look forward to it, to seeing him, to being with him. he starts begging you to let him touch you, and one day you cave and allow it. you groan when he cups your breast, arching into his touch as you bounce slowly on his cock. then his hand falls to your hip, his fingers dig into your skin, and a part of you hopes he'll leave behind bruises. when his thumb finds your clit, he circles the bud, groaning as you gasp, cunt fluttering around him. he whispers something as you fall apart, and it isn't until later that you realize...he'd called you beautiful.

(lmaooooooooooo many, many apologies for going overboard with this, i love me a subby man, especially when that man is poe dameron, hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng)

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

I was thinking to myself recently how wild it would be if this fandom was big enough to do a kinktober. Alas...

[kaelidascope]

Ok kids what do we want for dinner

Prismatic Ponytails is they're both invited to their exes wedding and they're butthurt about it enough to fuck each other out of spite

MM bees have like 20 scenes that were gonna go into the anthology series anyway. Nothing's technically stopping me from starting it now

Bees Schnees Voyeurism is incredibly raunchy but I promise everybody consents THE SET UP IS JUST A LITTLE QUESTIONABLE LOL

If you have a suggestion and I like it enough I will totally write it just don't expect a 300k word epic

[pettyprocrastination]

Mutt

Summary: After an ambush, Soap learns to trust the newest member of the 141

Pairing: Johnny Soap Mactavish x Fem!Werewolf!MC (call sign is Mutt)

warnings: vague description of violence and injuries. 

word count: 800

thank you to: @captainsamwlsn @thesadvampire @humanransome-note @joel-mlller and @luxuryberzatto @madhyanas @littleferal and @djarin-junk for helping me with this story and rattle off in your ears about Mutt! I love you all so very very much <3

_______

     “What are you?” 

     It was a valid question given the circumstances. 

     Soap could hardly count himself as conscious at that moment. It was a wave, pulling him back and forth until he was able to force his head to the surface, gasping for air and able to just barely look at his surroundings before he was pulled under again. 

     “Does it matter?” 

     It was dark out. He remembered it being dusk when they set out on their mission, the sun slowly setting in the horizon as Price told them to radio in at any issue and meet at their rendezvous point as soon at possible. 

     Fuck. 

     He broke the surface once more to notice that he wasn’t moving, but swaying side to side. Each step that crunches the ground is not his, but the blood drip, drip, dripping down, leaving a foreboding trail of their journey, is.

     Your shoulder digs into the crevice of his chest with each movement. 

     “Yer carryin’ me, Mutt.” 

     “I am.” 

     You never spoke much. Johnny had equated you to Simon in that way, quiet and foreboding. Your actions spoke where your voice rasped in the shadows. Tucked in the corner booth of a pub when the others went to celebrate a job well done. The loyal guard dog, waiting on its haunches for an order. 

     He was the one who would move to you first. Setting a beer in front of you before sliding into the seat across from you with a tap of his knuckles on the polished table. His knee would bump yours every time. You’d never complain. 

     “Big scary bastards, the both of you.” 

     But then you’d give him a grin, a flash of your crooked canines so fast it was gone when he blinked. 

     “Well it’s a damn good thing you talk enough for all of us then.” 

     Jonathan Mactavish was only a stone’s throw from 215 pounds but you carried him without complaint. The swaying with each step made his head spin and looking up was too much work for him to trust himself not to vomit. He let his eyes drop and stare at the ground, watching you take one step after another in a steady rhythm like an infant listening to their mother’s heartbeat. Through the darkness, he’s able to make out the shadowed shape of your feet in the night.

     “You’ve got no shoes on, Mutt.” 

     “Feels better this way.” 

     He can’t see much. Even if it weren’t for the blood loss and what he’s going to safely assume is a grade two concussion, it’s far too dark out for his surroundings to be seen as anything more than vague shapes and textures he can almost make heads or tails of.

     Your eyes are focused on the trail ahead, already accustomed to the darkness in a way he’d never seen anybody else without night vision goggles or a Mag-light. 

     “Tried to reach Price but the comms are busted. You got your bell rung pretty bad back there but-” You shifted your grip on his body and he felt something sharp press against his ankle, a gentle warning that mouthed at the skin of his Achilles's tendon. “We're only a few miles away from the rendezvous point. Think you can keep it together until we get there?”

     Claws. You had claws. 

     Through the nausea rolling through his body and the lights dancing behind his eyes, Soap could feel the fog begin to clear from his head. A flash of orders rising from his memory like the vision returning after a flash grenade. 

     He remembered seeing you charge through the muzzle flash and smoke like a vision. Uniform stained with the viscera of your enemies so dark he didn’t recognize you at first. The moment you came toward him he was raising his gun until he heard you speak.

     “You know me, Johnny.” 

     But he didn’t. Not really. 

     When he looked at you there was no familiarity or trust. He knew the color of your eyes and the curl of your lips in a snarl but nothing else. Not your name or family nor the reason you joined. 

     In the darkness, moonlight glinted against your eyes and he found himself thinking of the coyotes in Las Almas that watched him and his team from the shadows, pacing with a choir of chattering yips and howls in the darkness, waiting for the proper time to pounce.  

     He’d never admit it but there was a pause, when his hand held the barrel of his gun steady at your head.  Just as long as the width of the shallow breath trapped in his lungs, a split second where his pointer finger twitches, where the voice in his head urges him on. 

     “You never answered my question.”

     He knows nothing of you except that the blood in your mouth was spilled for him. 

     “I’m your teammate. That ought to be enough for you.” 

     It would have to be. 

[crocuta-corvax]

SPICY ART UNDER CUT - UNDER 18s DNI ------ Maybe you asked too many times, maybe he was just in a particular mood, but you asked him again to see him without the bandana. Now you're slung over his lap, his bandana wrapped around your eyes, your hands gripping tightly to his plastoid boots as he turns you into an absolute mess with those beautiful dextrous hands of his. And it's an absolute kriffing shame, because you can't see how wonderfully tousled his hair has gotten as he watches you become undone under his touch. ----- LAST WARNING! SPICY ART UNDER CUT - UNDER 18s DNI

ahAhHAhaaa... this took so long im so sorry but i got a fancy new pen display tablet and it jsut kept getting more and more detailed- i don't normally do backgrounds man :'3 @moodymisty because i know you're gonna wanna see this

[pocket-vvardvark]

Ok ok I caved and made an ao3 account 😭😭. Just so I could write smut. I'm insane abt Fennorian if you couldn't tell 💀

Gonna just...leave it here.