#do you like smut

[bi-writes]

mmmm ;) simon has got a special eye on single-mom!reader, doesn't he? (18+, lactation kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, dark content !!!!)

it's your first day back after maternity leave. you already look different, simon notices this immediately. the way you fill out your cargo pants--fuck, there's no way your arse has ever looked so fat. no way your thighs have ever been so plush--ngghhh...

fuck, you've never been prettier. motherhood suits you. your hair is longer. your eyes are a little brighter. and fuck, your tits look so heavy, can't keep his eyes off of them, can't fucking focus, fuck, fuck, fuck--

you look so cute patching him up. pouty bottom lip between your teeth as you string his lacerated skin back together with a practiced stitch, standing between his spread legs as he sits in a chair in your office. he nicked his shoulder real well in training today, and fuck, is he grateful for johnny's heavy hand because you're standing over him, and he has a front-row seat to the greatest view of his fucking life.

christ, they practically jiggle with every movement you make. you pop the cap off some disinfectant, and the little bounce of your chest makes him chub up immediately, and he doesn't trust the buckle of his belt anymore because you're so fucking hot. and god, it isn't fair, this isn't fair, you must be teasing him--because as he's staring shamelessly at your pretty, perky nipples, he notices the fabric of your shirt beginning to grow damp.

you notice his line of sight after you tie off his wound. you look down, gasping, your hands dropping your supplies to come up and cup your breasts and cover the wetness of your shirt.

"god--dammit," you breathe. you haven't gotten a chance to pump today, it's been so busy in the clinic, and god, they ache.

you're his sergeant. his pretty little soldier. he just wants to help you. he's just helping you, isn't he? that's what this is when he draws his big hands up, shifting your shirt until it nestles below your nursing bra. he's just helping you when he unlatches the strap with ease, drawing down the soft material and baring your tits for him, his eyes bulging when he sees how wet the skin is, how they glisten.

his mouth is so warm. it's the perfect relief after such a long day. his tongue is soft and careful, swirling in heated circles as he soothes the ache in the throbbing fat there. you're so wet--soaking your panties, you know you are, your hormones firing wildly as he pulls back, opening his mouth and catching just a dribble of the warm essence that leaks from one breast. finally, finally--fuck, he's so good at this, his mouth latching onto you again as he groans loudly. he's so sick, it's so fucking lewd, but god dammit, it's just what you need, you need this, you need this.

he likes you like this. he likes you fat around the hips and leaking from your tits and spilling sweetness into your panties. he needs to keep you this way. he needs to keep you pretty and aching and starving for the relief that he knows he can give you.

he doesn't care whose kid it is, he wants to keep you this way. he'd let johnny or gaz fuck you stupid after this if it meant plugging you up and making you full and beautiful and round again. he's never wanted kids anyway, he knows he probably shoots blanks, it's why you got pregnant so fast after he shut the door on your relationship and refused to open it again, isn't it?

nnghghhgh...

fuck, his pants are already shoved low, just enough that he can pull himself out. he's so heavy, balls so full and aching so badly, he's hardly slapping against his stomach. you slip your own trousers off, eager to get back into his lap, practiced pretty girl sinking down onto him and riding him for her life in the dark of her office.

he buries his face into your chest. they're bouncing every time you smack your hips back down against his, and he can't stop the noises he's making as he suckles your tits in his mouth and uses a firm grip on your ass to meet your thrusts with force. fuck, he'd forgotten what a nice cunt you had--he'd forgotten how nice and soft you are, how messy and wet you get, how whenever he fucks you, his entire pelvis is always soaked with the slick of you because you can never stop creaming on his cock.

"so big," you babble, just like you used to, and he grunts as he aims for that little spot inside of you that makes you cry. he wants to see those pretty tears falling down your face, but all it took this time was his tongue sucking on your achy nipples to make you pouty and sobbing.

fuck, you've always been good at taking him, you always were such a good girl, but now he's overwhelmed. your body is so different and yet the same, and he likes it so much more--fuck, there's so much to grab onto now, the smacking of your skin is loud, and you've always been such a wet girl, but now you're positively dripping. he grits his teeth as he looks down finally, watching the way you've wet his trousers, his boxers, your thighs, the goddamn chair. he can't wait to lay you down after this and put his head between your thighs, can't wait to get those tits back in his mouth and make you cry again and again and again and again--

yeah, yeah, yeah--fuck, fuck, fuck--

you collapse after he cums. whimpering, taking two of his fingers and fitting them into your mouth so you have something to suck on, something you always used to do for comfort. he hisses a little as he pulls out just a little, globs of cum dribbling onto the seat before he eases you back down again. you whine, clinging onto him, your eyes shutting as he shoves his cum practically into your stomach.

yeah, fuck--he's gonna make his little sergeants take you nice after this. he needs you to stay like this, needs to keep you fat and pretty and swollen. don't mind the chunky babies you'll have, he'll take care of you, sweetheart, he'll be the daddy that son of a bitch never gave you, yeah?

he grabs the phone nearest to him to check the time as you settle on wobbly legs into the seat next to him. it must be your phone, because there's a picture of a smiling baby as the background. his eyes flicker to yours, and when you catch his gaze, you swallow hard. there's a giant chubby baby you're holding in that picture.

with blond hair and dark eyes (;

[interneteclipse]

sevika <3

I listened to the brat album the entirety of drawing this and ugh I'll never hate Charlie xcx

[sceletaflores]

HEAVY METAL LOVER!

pair: logan howlett x bartender!reader wc: 4.2k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, drinking, swearing, motorcycle rides, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering (fem!receiving), creampie, wolverine's hairy tits, the claws show up ofc, porn with plot, no use of y/n. author’s note: watched deadpool & wolverine twice in theaters, started rewatching the x-men movies, pondered many different thoughts, sat down and wrote this. i need him to breed me. title from lady gaga's 'heavy metal lover' cause it's literally his song.

the wolverine is a regular at your bar…

You're shining glasses behind the bar when you hear it, the gruff sound of Logan’s voice turning away yet another girl that worked up the courage to come up to him. It’s his third rejection of the night, not that you were counting.

You were, you always do. You pay more attention to that side of the bar than you normally would when he’s here, which is nearly everyday for the past three weeks. He's not like any of your other regulars. He's almost always alone, and he never talks to you except when he calls for another drink. 

The only reason you even know his real name at all is because Wade told you one of the nights he tagged along, leaning his elbows on the bar to whisper over the sugared rim of his "Piña Colada. Extra creamy please, you know how I like it..." like he was telling you a secret.

"Don't let him hurt your feels honey bunch. That's just classic Logan for you, a man of few words. Huge case of blue balls by the way." 

You remember the way he let the obvious innuendo hang in the air, the knowing look he gave you as he spun the little paper umbrella floating in his drink. You didn’t think you were being that obvious, that someone as socially inept as Wade was able to pick up on the way your eyes would linger a little too long on the broad width of Logan’s shoulders, on the way his arms would strain against the fabric of his flannels. 

You’d seen him on the news, thick corded muscles all wrapped in blue and yellow leather. It haunted you for days, playing in your mind on a constant loop of sweaty biceps until you finally gave in and pulled out your favorite vibrator. 

Even with that, there’s just something about the jeans and flannels he wears outside of the suit that make you want to jump over the bar and drop down to your knees right in front of him. Your mouth open wide and waiting.

The dull ‘thunk’ of Logan placing his empty glass on the bartop grabs your attention, two quick raps of his knuckles against the wood ripping you from your thoughts. “Another,” he says briskly, not looking away from the peeling backsplash on the wall behind you.

You usually snapped at men who’d bark orders at you, but The Wolverine isn’t just any man. He's certainly the only man you'd ever take orders from willingly, happily.

You grin, tossing your towel over your shoulder as you grab the whiskey bottle off the shelf and slide over to him, tipping the amber colored bottle over to start refilling his glass. “That’s the third one tonight,” you say casually, casting your eyes over his shoulder to the girl from before retreating back to her friends. “I take it you don’t come here looking for company?”

Logan’s eyes flick to yours, it’s the first time he’s looked at you all night. You look back, lips pulled into a small smile as more whiskey than you’d usually pour splashes against the sides of his glass. The music playing from the speakers fades into a dull hum around you.

He holds your gaze for a second longer, a flash of something you can't quite read passing through his eyes before he’s looking away again. “Not the kind you’re thinking of,” he replies, his voice a low rumble that has something warm zinging up your spine.

You set the bottle down next to him, brow piqued in curiosity. “And what kind is that?”

He doesn't respond right away, just raises the now full glass to his lips to take a slow sip. You almost think he’s going to ignore you again, but then he speaks, “You ask everyone that comes in here personal questions, bub?” 

There’s the barest hint of amusement lacing his words that has you biting your bottom lip to try and contain the absolute giddiness blooming in your chest. It’s not much, but it’s more than he’s ever given you before. Encouraged, you step in a little closer, hoping to draw him out further.

“Only the ones with their asses practically fused to my stools,” you shrug, a playful glint sparkling in your eyes. “So what is it, you got some poor wife you leave at home every time you come here? Because the ‘tall, dark, and kind of morally ambiguous’ thing is obviously working for you.”

Logan turns his eyes to you again, his brow raised in amusement. You’re close enough that you can see the way his lips turn up at the corners. He seems to consider your question, gaze slowly trailing along your face before flicking back to your eyes. "No wife," he replies, the words slow and deliberate. "No home to leave her at either.”

His response hangs in the air between you, heavier than you anticipated. You let out a soft breath, lips parting ever so slightly. You can practically feel the weight of his gaze settling over you, leaving your whole body warm and tingly. The heat swirling deep in your gut slipping down to pool wet and sticky in your panties. Logan’s eyes blink shut for just a second, the bridge of his nose twitching lightly.

You almost can’t believe this is really happening, that the angry guy at the end of your bar you’ve seen turn away pretty girl after pretty girl is flirting with you. It makes you feel dizzy with power, like you could do anything, but it’s also one of the most intimidating things you’ve ever experienced. You didn’t realize what it meant to be the center of Logan’s attention until now, but you refuse to back down.

 He gives an inch, so you take a mile.

Your grin widens as you lean your elbows on the bar, resting your chin on the heels of your hands. Logan doesn’t react to you invading his space, just keeps his eyes on you with a passive look on his face, but you don’t miss the way his gaze darts down to the low cut of your top.

“So…” you say slowly, voice dipping into a softer more intimate tone, “that means you’re free later tonight?” You tilt your head to the side coyly, allowing your hair to cascade over your shoulder, the movement drawing his gaze.

Logan’s eyes widen the tiniest bit, a surprised huff leaving his lips. He raises his glass, taking another long drink. Your eyes trace the sharp line of his jaw to where his adam’s apple bobs enticingly as he swallows. Your lips tingle with the need to mark up the tan column of his throat, to sink your teeth in the skin there, to taste.

The neckline of his undershirt dips low enough that you can see the dark hair scattered across his chest, dog tags dangling from a chain around his neck to sit in the center.

You drag your eyes back up to his face, flushing when you see that he's already looking at you over the rim of his drink. He sets his half drained glass down, a skeptical look on his face. “How old are you, kid?”

You shake your head with a soft laugh, dropping your palms to lay flat on the bartop. If that makes your top dip a little lower to flash more of your cleavage in Logan’s eyeline, then that’s just a bonus. “Old enough to be here,” you reply after a short pause, gazing up at him from under your lashes, “Old enough to know what I want.”

Logan’s eyes darken, the warm brown of them seeming deeper and even more intense than before. The dim overhead lights cast shadows across his rugged features, highlighting the scruff on his jaw. You can’t help but imagine the rough scratch of it brushing up against your inner thighs.

Logan pushes his glass away, leaning in with a soft grunt, his eyes drop to your lips. You suck in a shocked breath, your whole body lighting up at being so close to him. Your heart is racing in your chest, a quick ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum that echoes in your ears.

His lips turn up in a sly grin, the sharp canines of his teeth on display. “Is that so?” He asks, voice going all husky like gravel and honey. He meets your eyes and you swear you can see the sparks going off in the air between you, everything else in the bar completely fizzling out as his breath mingles with yours. “Careful what you wish for,” he says, his voice a low rumble that makes your knees weak. “You might just get it.”

Your lips curve into a mischievous smile, the heat between you palpable. “I’m counting on it,” you reply, your voice dripping with promise. It takes everything in you to straighten up and pull away from Logan, stepping back with the forgotten bottle in your hand. “My shift ends at eleven,” you say with a small shrug, jerking your head to a door across the room, “staff leaves through the alley door.” 

It’s a clear invitation, one that Logan easily picks up on. His hungry gaze follows every move you make as you shelf the whiskey.

Before he can say anything, someone calls you from across the bar, shaking their empty glass impatiently. You throw him one last smile over your shoulder, mouthing ‘eleven‘ again with a quick nod of your head. You aren’t sure if it’s supposed to reassure you or him.

Logan smirks nonetheless, standing from the bar before draining the rest of his drink and throwing a few bills down. The air crackles as you watch him make his way towards the exit, eyes lingering on the way his jeans hug the thick muscles of his legs before someone is snapping their fingers at you to serve them.

The rest of your shift drags by, but the excitement and hope swirling in your stomach doesn’t fade. You’re practically thrumming with excitement by the time eleven rolls around, anticipation coursing through your veins as you clock out and grab your bag from your locker.

You pull the door to the alley open, the heavy metal creaking with the swing. The gravel crunches under your shoes as you step outside, eyes eagerly searching the space in search of Logan. The light mounted above the door shines around you, but you don’t see him anywhere. 

Just as disappointment starts to settle in your chest, you hear a loud rumble coming from the down the street. A bright light shines across the road as it gets closer and closer until there’s a motorcycle pulled up against the alley’s opening.

Logan kicks the bike’s stand down, leaning over to hold out a helmet in offering. “You coming or not?” he calls out, voice deep and teasing, “I’m not known for my patience.”

You can’t help but laugh, a mix of exhilaration and nervousness bubbling up inside you. With a confident stride, you walk toward him, the loud growl of the bike reverberates through your body like thunder with every step. “You’re just full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?” 

You take the helmet from his hand, but he doesn't let go right away, making your fingers brush against his in a way that sends a shiver up your arm. You meet his gaze, the smirk on his lips matching the dangerous glint in his eyes.

He drops his hand down to the bike’s handle, jerking his head back to the empty space behind him. “Hop on.”

You straddle the bike, the leather seat warm from the rumbling engine beneath you. You give Logan your address as you slip the helmet on. His body is warm and solid against your front, you can’t help but press a little closer, your hands falling to rest on his waist. The leather of his jacket is smooth under your fingertips.

Logan turns his head to the side, the street lights shine along the side of his face in a warm yellow glow. “Hang on,” he says, voice barely audible over the roar of the bike’s engine starting up.

The sudden rush of wind as he pulls off paired with the thrillingly intense vibration of the engine revving under you is exhilarating. You wrap your arms tight around his waist, fingers digging in slightly as you lean into the curve of his body. 

The city blurs into a whirlwind of colorful lights as Logan navigates the streets with a confident ease. The cool night air whips past you, every turn and acceleration pumping more adrenaline through your veins. You cling to Logan’s waist like it’s a lifeline– there’s a sense of freedom and excitement that comes with being on the bike, but you think the real thrill is being pressed against him like this, feeling the power of his strength under you.

The ride seems like it takes both hours and seconds all at once when Logan pulls up to your house's gate. He kills the engine, the sudden silence a stark contrast from the roaring bike. Your heart pounds in your chest, pulse thumping as you slide the helmet off.

Logan takes it from your hands, eyes scanning over your house. “Nice place,” he comments casually, swinging his leg over the bike to stand next to you. 

"Thanks," you say, your voice a tad breathless. You can’t help but feel a little self-conscious as you dig for your keys in your bag, nerves finally starting to set in. The air is cold against your flushed skin, and you’re hyper aware of Logan’s presence behind you as you unlock the gate and push it open.

He doesn’t touch you as the two of you walk up the steps to your house, infuriatingly keeping his distance with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans.

Your legs shake with every step, you can’t tell if it’s left over adrenaline from the ride or the building anticipation for the ride you know is waiting for you beyond your front door. Your hands tremble as you fumble with the lock, opening the door and stepping into the darkness of your living room. 

You’re barely a foot inside before a pair of strong hands pull you backwards, getting whirled around by your waist until your back hits your closed front door mute thud. You don’t have any time to react before Logan’s crowding up against you, his body a solid wall of muscle pressing you hard against the door. His lips crash into yours in a hungry kiss, you can taste the whiskey from earlier sharp and smoky on his tongue.

You respond eagerly, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down even closer. Logan’s hands roam over your body rough and possessive, one sliding up to cup the back of your neck while the other grips your waist, pulling you even closer. His hands leave a trail of fire in their wake, your skin tingling with every brush of his fingers. You can feel the raw power in his touch, a barely there restrained strength that has your heart racing even faster. 

“I could fucking smell you,” he growls agasint your neck, digging his sharp teeth into your collarbone meanly. You can't help but let out a soft moan, your head falling back against the door to give him better access. The rough stubble on his jaw scrapes deliciously against your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Could smell how goddamn wet you got, back at the bar.”

His hand slips under the waistband of your jeans, sliding down the front of your panties to brush against your clit. Your mouth drops open with a soft moan, your slick lips still tingling. “Do you have any fuckin’ idea how hard it was not to bend you over, to not rip these things off and fuck you over the bar?” he asks roughly, lips brushing against your skin with every word. “Wanted to take you right, make everyone watch while I made you scream.”

Your breath hitches at his words, a wave of pleasure crashing through you. The rough skin of his fingertips press more firmly against your clit, drawing a broken moan from your lips. “Logan,” you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily against his hand.Your hands claw at his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you try to ground yourself. 

His lips capture yours again in a bruising kiss, sliding two thick fingers into you with a rough thrust. “Atta girl,” he murmurs against your mouth, dragging his tongue across your bottom slip. “That’s it, say my name,” he growls, swallowing your moans as his fingers pump into you with an unrelenting pace. Your walls clench around him, a needy whine escaping your throat as he begins to fuck his fingers in and out of your wet cunt. 

The coil of pleasure deep in your stomach tightens with every thrust of his fingers, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. You can feel the pressure start to build, like a dam threatening to burst, but this isn’t how you want to come. You break the kiss, a thin thread of saliva connecting your lips before it thins and breaks. “Wait,” you say breathlessly, hand slipping down to grip his forearm tightly, “I want to come with you inside me.”

Logan growls, a deep, primal sound that you can feel rumble deep in his chest where it’s pressed against yours. “Bedroom,” he demands, hands dropping to the back of your thighs and lifting. 

You wrap your legs around his waist with a quiet squeal, attacking the skin of his neck with your teeth as he walks the two of you down the dark hallway. “First door on the right,” you whisper, dragging your tongue along the column of his throat. You can feel the thick length of his cock straining against his jeans press into your hip. He sucks in a sharp breath as you roll your hips down, sliding the damp fabric of your clothed cunt over him.

Logan kicks the door open with a force that has it slamming against the wall, the sound barely registering in your lust-addled brain. Logan dumps you on the bed, the force of it bouncing you on the mattress. He rips his white undershirt over his head and drops to his knees in front of you, big hands coming up to grip the waistband of your jeans.

The muscles in his arms don’t even flex as he rips your shorts down the middle, denim and along with lace panties tearing like tissue paper in his hands and falling to the floor in tattered pieces. You gasp at the cold air hitting your hot, aching cunt. 

Logan’s hands run up and down the bare skin of your calves, eyes glued to the soaked skin of your inner thighs. Your thighs start to tremble under his gaze, your patience starting to wear thin. Logan drags his eyes back to you, taking in the pleading look on your face. He smirks, wordlessly rising to his feet to pop open the button of his jeans.

You watch with bated breath as he unzips his fly, eyes glued to the way he starts to push them down his legs just enough that they fall to pool around his ankles. Your mouth drops open, eyes going wide at the sight of him.

He’s so big, so thick and heavy that his cock hangs hard between his hairy thighs instead of slapping up against his stomach. There’s a thick drop of pre-cum leaking from the tip, dripping down a thick vein running along the side.

Your mouth waters with want, the want to bury your nose in the dark thatch of hair surrounding the base, the want to have him fuck your throat raw and red. You can almost feel the ache in your jaw. 

As much as you want to get him in your mouth, you want him inside you even more.

“Get your ass over here,” you demand breathlessly, tearing your shirt off your head in one swift motion. Logan smirks, stepping out of his jeans and making his way across the room. His dog tags jingle with every step, your cunt clenches weakly.

He stalks up the mattress like a predator, eyes ablaze as a cocky smirk plays on his lips. Your legs fall open unconsciously, thighs spreading wide to make enough room for his hips to slot against yours.

You gasp at the thick head of his cock sliding through your wet folds, your body arching off the bed. The sensation is electric, shooting through you like a live wire. "Logan," you breathe, your voice barely more than a whimper. "Please..."

"Please what?" he asks, his lips curving into a smirk against your skin. "You gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart."

Your cheeks flush hot, but the need burning inside you is stronger than any embarrassment. "I want you," you admit, your voice trembling with desire. "I want you to fuck me, Logan."

His growl is low and feral, his fingers teasing you relentlessly as he presses his forehead to yours. "That's a good girl," he rumbles, his breath hot against your lips as he sinks into the tight heat of your cunt in a single thrust. 

The pace he sets is unrelenting, one hand braced on the pillow next to your head while the other grips your bed’s frame for better leverage to fuck down into you. The sting of his cock splitting your cunt open has your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders. His dog tags hang from his neck, swinging like a pendulum as he starts to thrust.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grates out, brows furrowed in pleasure. His hips speed up, barely pulling out halfway before he plunges back into you. The bed squeaks under you, slamming up against the wall as Logan fucks you.

It’s like Logan surrounds every inch of you, strong arms caged around your head while his body covers yours, metal bonded bones pressing you down into the mattress so there’s nothing you can do but take it. You know that he’s ruined every other man in the world for you as the heavy snap of his hips pounds against the skin of your ass hard enough to bruise. The thick muscles of chest bounces as he moves, the coarse hair scraping against your sensitive nipples.

The head of his cock pounds the soft spot inside of you that has your eyes fluttering closed, mind going hazy as heat starts to pool at the base of your spine.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you beg brokenly, tears sting the corners of your eyes. “God! I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come–”

“Come on baby,” Logan goads, dropping down to his fore arm so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck, “Give it to me, come on this cock, show me how much you fucking love it,”

The stinging bite of his sharp canines scraping the fluttering pulse of your neck makes you wail, nails raking down his back hard enough to leave long red welts that heal as you go. Your cunt clenches around the pulsing length of his cock, greedily milking him as you come in a rush of wetness around his cock.

“Fuck,” Logan grits out, his hips faltering. It’s not by much, but just enough for you to notice. The rhythmic smack smack smack of skin stuttering as his breath comes out in fast pants against the sweaty skin of your neck. His cock jerks inside you fiercely, his heavy balls tightening as he gets closer to the edge. You can hear the metal frame of your bed creaking warningly under his grip.

“Come in me,” you beg breathlessly, tightening your ankles around his waist. “Please, Logan I need it–”

Logan lets out a feral growl as his hand drops from your headboard, the sharp metallic sound of his claws unsheathing rings out above you before he slams his fist into the mattress next to your head. He floods your insides, pumping you full of his come as he grunts like a beast on top of you. He gives a few more weak thrusts of his hips, letting the two of you ride out your highs before he finally stills.

You hear the quiet snikt of his claws retracting from your mattress and back into between his knuckles before Logan collapses on top of you, arms braced on either side of your head to take most of his weight. His breath puffs raggedly over the skin of your shoulder, his spent cock still snug in your sore cunt. 

“You owe me a new mattress,” you say breathlessly, digging the heels of your feet into his lower back sharply. 

Logan chuckles into your neck, tipping his head up to look at you with dark eyes. His lips curl into a smirk as he rolls his hips, his still hard cock dragging along the sensitive walls of your cunt makes you gasp. “Yeah?” he asks, low and velvety. His eyes flick to the three holes punched through your sheets.

“You can add it to my tab,” he says with another stronger roll of his hips, “We’re not done here.”

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

a/n! the actual biggest shout out to @ebodebo for beta reading and listening to my non-stop rambling and horny thoughts about this man. she's a true solider because i have been so annoying about this. mwah mwah mwah.

[fruittt-punchhh]

thinking abouuuuuut somno w needy! toji

but needy! toji specifically in the middle of the night and like he’s so tiiiired and desperate and ugh. I have a thing for needy, desperate, tired men pls lay off of me. Inspired by @theobsidianempress

needy! toji who wakes up hard behind you in your oh so tiny pajama shorts, warm legs tangled in his as you subconsciously push your hips further into him.

needy! toji who seemed to wake up most nights around this time, almost like his body was on an internal clock set to go off when you looked your best, all tired and a peaceful as you dream your night away.

needy! toji who never wore anything to bed besides a chain and his ring, which made your cute shuffling in the bed a problem for his now half-hard cock.

needy! toji who had fucked you once twice today, once in the morning before he left for work and once after dinner. but his appetite was never satiated when it came to you.

needy! toji who wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he grabs a handful of your tit, kneading it as he grinds into your ass.

needy! toji who was now going to take full advantage of this ‘free use’ bullshit you mentioned to him a few days back.

needy! toji who tries to be gentle, tries to keep you asleep as he satisfies you. his large, rough hands rub circles on your clit as you shift in bed, breathing heavy - unbeknownst to you.

needy! toji who dares to see how far he can take things before you wake, playfully biting your shoulder, sucking on the soft skin as he chuckles to himself when you let a quiet whine slip.

needy! toji who pulls your left leg up over his, up and out of the way so he can fish his big hands down the back of your shorts like the nasty bastard he was - shoving two of his thick fingers into your already soaked pussy from behind as soon as he finds your entrance.

needy! toji who debates finger fucking you until you wake up, deciding against it so he can hear your sweet, muffled noises when he finally pushes his throbbing cock inside of you.

needy! toji who lets a whine slip with the knowledge that you’re still asleep, so beautifully stimulated by your tight, gummy walls. needy! toji who doesn’t understand how you’re still so tight after being fucked twice already today. needy! toji who doesn’t understand how you’re still asleep.

needy! toji who didn’t realize you’ve been awake since his hands snuck under your waistband.

needy! toji who gets three full thrusts in before you’re pushing back into him with a giggle as he fills you sooo snug to the brim.

needy! toji who pushes you roughly onto your stomach once he realizes your little trick, trapping both of your legs tightly between his so he can fuck you mean like he’s wanted to all day.

needy! toji who had to be gentle this morning because you were ‘tiiiiired’ and needy! toji who let you ride him until he was spraying your insides white after dinner. needy! toji who hasn’t had the chance all day to take you like he needs, letting you get your way two too many times.

needy! toji who shoves your head into your pillow, ruffling your hair up purposefully because he’s such a meanie. “been waiting - hah.. for this, little girl” he says, the sharp jabs of his hips bringing you close to your orgasm already.

needy! toji who can’t believe how wrapped around your finger he is, can’t believe he let you fuck him how you wanted earlier today. needy! toji who can’t believe he even had any resolve to stop himself from fucking you how you deserved earlier. “been.. so.. fuckin’.. nice.. all.. goddamn.. day” he spits, each word punctuated by an aggressive, deep, slow thrust that left you breathless.

needy! toji who can’t believe how close he is already, thinking he’d be good to go for hours with how much he’s cum already today. “fuck you y/n.. your stupid.. perfect pussy’s gonna make me bust too quick,”

needy! toji who bucks into you faster now, staring at how the fat of your ass jiggles and bounces with each thrust as you yelp into your pillow. “yeah - that’s it. cum on me, squeeze me.. milk me, ma,” he begs, forcing the words out as he feels you clamp down on his length.

needy! toji who’s mad at how tight you get, mad at how dripping wet you are, mad at how incredible you look, mad at the cute noises you make, mad at how you have him so vulnerable in the moment.

needy! toji who’s mad because he knows - gun to his head, he couldn’t pull out. knife to his neck even, it’d take an act of god to pull him from your precious cunt.

needy! toji whose voice pitches up an octave or two as he cums, bearing his full body weight on your back, pumping so rough into you as you milk him dry.

needy! toji who tells you to use your shirt to clean up as he rolls back over, already snoring before you’ve got up to use the restroom.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I hope you take this as the compliment it is intended to be, but you strike the same chord of irreverence-as-love, jokes-to-showcase-sencerity that I get from Chuck Tingle, and I adore both of you.

You have bestowed the greatest honour upon me.

[groovyangelkisses]

oh to have logan lightly tap your butt, click his tongue and say "c'mon baby, up to bed, let's go" when he wants to cuddle after a long mission :(

[bunnyrafe]

continuation / part two to this post

“can’t believe i finally get to do this.”

rafe mumbles against your skin— his grip on you is almost painful when he presses your chest to his, but it only makes you want him more whilst you’re sat in his lap all pretty. you can feel his bulge in his jeans, rubbing up on your cunt through your panties and making your heavy head dizzy. but no matter how worked up you already are, the hand at the back of your neck is firm and holds you there, so he can see your eyes become hazier and your lashes flutter in bliss. everything he imagined & more.

in the limited amount of time you’ve known him, he’s been nothing but sweet. a little needy even. he’s a gentleman; he promised your trip to see him would be worth it. showed up to your hotel room with a gorgeous arrangement of flowers, took you out to a nice dinner with a view, surprised you with some custom lingerie as he promised in your messages to really have you weak for him.

maybe that’s why you let him sweep you away so early… maybe it’s why you two are messing around without any cameras.

a chemistry test is always a good idea you suppose.

“you’re gonna be a good girl f’me, right?” his words are cooed, “spoiled the hell out of you, it’s the least you can do.”

“yeah…” you sigh out in reply, growing more dumb by the second.

and you’re not entirely sure how it all happens, so caught up in kissing and grinding that you barely register the moments that lead up to you ending up on your back. dress bunched all the way up around your waist and your messy panties pulled to the side so rafe can slide his thick cock right in your drooling cunt that he thinks is the cutest thing he’s ever seen—

“slipped in so easy, sweetheart,” he grunts out, feeling the head of his cock kiss your cervix juuust right, fucking a mewl directly out of you, “knew you were fuckin’ made for me.”

you claw at his forearms. your manicured nails dig into his suntanned skin until they leave behind indents that he’d proudly wear any day. his name falls off of your tongue, and he leans down to kiss you in such a way that you never would expect from one of your costars. so much passion and something bordering on love. it’s messy and lewd and it makes your pussy tighten up around him which he thought was impossible with how snug you already are— his chest vibrates with a groan, and you look up at him with starry eyes and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

it hits you then... you think you’ll have to extend your trip. for strictly business purposes, of course.

[konigsblog]

To me, this is Stepdad!Price and his stepdaughter, and I will not be accepting any other opinions. (🌽)

CW: CHEATING, STEPCEST, BRIEF MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY TOWARDS THE END. MDNI 18+

Price adores you more than anything else in this world. You're his precious little angel, an outlet for his sexual frustration and horniness. Your stepfather refuses to allow your stepbrothers near you, and especially not any random men who clearly don't care to know you. He'll shake his head, frustrated and disappointed, before calling you onto his lap.

You need an older man like your stepfather, someone loyal and trustworthy, someone who knows you better than yourself.

“Tsk–, you know better, don’t‘cha?” Your stepfather's large hands tighten around your hips, his fingertips pressing into the soft flesh on your hips while his gravelly and hoarse voice rings in your ears. One hand travels down your bare and naked body, exploring each inch of your soft skin, while the other one grasps at your head and holds it still, allowing him to make out with you sloppily while praising you between breaths. Price slowly fucks his thick fingers into your soft cunt, all while he makes out with you slowly. You can hear your stepfather's heavy breathing and pleased, guttural groans as you react positively to his kisses and lustful touch, as well as the sound of your cunny squelching around his fingers.

To your stepfather, you're the prettiest and purest thing to walk this planet. He doesn't care about your mother, how heartbroken she'll be to know that he's been cheating on her with you. He's just using her to get through to you, to stuff your soaked pussy with his calloused, thick digits in preparation to fill your hole with his meaty, sweaty cock. Fuck, maybe you'll make babies one day. You'll learn to accept attention from your father, whether it's sexual or not.

“That’s right, sweetness’- let me show you who you belong to.”

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

God, the intimacy of Astarion feeding from you.

Astarion drinking from your neck as he pulls your body closer to his in bed, his chest up against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist. It's a casual thing, now, his whispered can I? and your answering nod, as much a part of your bedtime routine as your bath or his curl care. You sigh as his fangs pierce your skin and his fingers flex against your stomach. His breath hitches when the taste of you hits his tongue, and that's familiar too, the physicality of it, the noises he makes low in his throat as he drinks, the way he grows warmer against you as your blood begins to flow through his veins. Nothing else makes you feel so heady, so intoxicated- so comforted.

Astarion drinking from your wrist when he’s starving for it and can’t wait to get you more comfortable. Pulling him into an alleyway one night on the way home from the Elfsong because you can see how badly he's craving in the way he can't keep his eyes off of the pulse point in your neck. He seizes your arm with both hands (can I? Yes-), bringing the soft skin on the inside of your wrist to his lips. He has just enough presence of mind to kiss the heel of your hand distractedly before he bites, fangs sliding through your skin and into the vein. The sound he makes can only be described as a growl, something feral and possessive (and you'll never tell him that it turns you on, since he would be insufferable about it- a promise to yourself that lasts exactly as long as the space between the moment and the next time you're tipsy and want him).

(NSFW Below!)

Astarion drinking from your inner thigh, one hand holding your leg steady and the other cupping your cunt. You groan, eyes shut in pleasure, as his thumb comes to rub your clit. The pain of the bite is barely pain this way- it collides with the pleasure in your belly and sends you almost out of your mind, overwhelmed with sensation and heat. He takes you all the way there, takes just enough from you to have you relaxed and pliant and soaring somewhere above your own body, plays you like an instrument with all the knowledge of you he's gathered over the months, the years. He knows when you're close, knows to crook his fingers inside you just so, knows the reaction he's going to get when he pulls away from your thigh for just a moment and looks up at you with dark eyes and tells you to come for him, he wants to see it, you fall apart so beautifully and it's all for him, isn't it, tell him how good he makes you feel and when you climax with his voice in your ear and the scent of blood on the air he has the audacity to laugh at how well he understands you, your body.

He's soft, after, softer than he'll ever be with anyone who isn't you. He licks you clean before he takes you to the bath, carrying you with the strength your lifeblood gives him. It's the least he can do for you, with everything you've given him: not just your body, but your trust, your closeness, and he will never stop being grateful.

[the-great-kraken]

if you see a male character kiss a male character, you assume they are gay.

if you see a female character kiss a female character, you assume they are a lesbian.

if you hear a character say they don't feel like their gender, you assume they are trans.

so why do a-spec characters have to jump through so many loops?

a character saying they've never had a crush or don't want a relationship or that they don't understand romantic love is so often ignored or used as fodder for other queer or autistic headcanons (reinforcing stereotypes that aroace people are secretly gay or always autistic)

why is it that our stories are always "up to interpretation"? why do we have to wait for the words aromantic or asexual to be said to be taken seriously? why is it that even when characters say they don't want relationships, fans will scream and cry about sex/romance favourable aspecs and qprs?

when it comes to gay and trans characters, even the likes of bisexual lighting is often treated as though it canonises their sexuality. for aroace characters, even the most explicit coding possible is swept under the rug in favour of other "interpretations"

i'm so tired of fighting for representation just to have it ignored and minimised by fans. let characters be aroace. please.

[bi-writes]

you're cooking when you notice him. you finish dicing the onion on your cutting board, and when you look up, you smile when you see the looming shadow that takes up the space behind your curtains. (mercenary!ghost x fem!reader, 18+)

"hi, spooky skeleton," you giggle, turning around and dropping the onions into the pot. the sizzle warms your apartment, and when you turn back around, you smile wider when he's come out from the shadows, closer, already on the other side of the kitchen island and only a few steps away from you.

he's geared up. vest thick and heavy strapped to his chest, the hood of his rain jacket over his head to further conceal the skull mask he wears. he stands tall, back straight and eyes narrowed, what little you could see of them. you put the cutting board down, twirling the kitchen knife you hold in your hand before holding it out in front of you, putting the sharp tip against the center of his chest.

"slow down there, big boy," you coo. "did you do as i told you?"

he snarls a bit before fishing a phone out of his pocket, tossing it onto the counter. you look down at it, watching the video playing. it's your mark, slobbering in tears, begging for his life. he pleads, holds up his hands, shakes his head, says that he's sorry in every language he knows until there's a satisfying hole in the middle of his forehead, a lone trail of blood making its way down his face. you think it looks like he's crying tears of blood. it's oddly poetic.

you look back at him, meeting his dark eyes, and you draw your hand back, setting the knife down. with your other hand, you drag your knuckles down the side of his masked face, puckering your lips and blowing him a dramatic kiss.

"such a proficient one, you are," you murmur. "what is that? third one this week?"

"want m'prize," he growls, and you step closer hooking your fingers into the collar of his vest and blowing him another kiss. then, you reach for the kitchen drawer next to you and pull it, taking out a thick envelope and handing it to him.

"you're making them very happy, ghost," you tap the plastic of the skull, giggling. "they like you a lot. got time for another?"

he clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side, and you squeak when he reaches down and grips both sides of your ass with two big hands. you laugh, but it turns into a breathless moan when those hands slip under your skirt and tug at the lace of your panties.

"i want the real prize, want wot 'm owed," ghost says lowly. you stand up on your toes, pressing your mouth to his over his mask. you let your hands fall, pressing on the backs of his hands, encouraging him to slip a few fingers under the lace and prod the entrance of your sticky cunt.

"you want it, baby?" you whimper. "do you?"

"yes--" you feel him bite from under the mask, and you stick your tongue out, licking over the line of his bottom lip, your pride swelling when you feel how shaky he breathes as you tease him. "give it t' me--"

there it is. now i have you.

"well..." you press your pelvis to his, rocking against his fingers, and he hisses when he feels the way you soak the fabric of his gloves. he wants to eat it, he wants to have you, he wants what he was promised. "gotta do somethin' for me first, ghost. gotta job for you. can't pay you for it though, not the way you like."

you think you see him smile under the mask, the corners of his eyes crinkling as if he likes what he hears. as if he knows what it is you will give him if he just does as you say.

"y'know wot it is tha' i want, don't you, swee'eart?"

yes, you think, and you respond by giving the front of his mask a kiss, one you think he reciprocates by the way he cradles the back of your head.

i know what it is that you want because...i want it, too.

[mammon-s]

Thinking about struggling to ride Mammon so he just grabs your hips and fucks you on himself

You start off whining and trying as hard as you can to bounce on his cock, but your thighs are burning and you collapse on his chest crying about how it’s too much and you can’t do it.

He kisses the top of your head as he puts his hands on either sides of your hips, “it’s ok treasure I gotcha.” He says softly as he lifts you up and slams you down on himself causing you to cry out.

You grip his shoulders tightly, digging your nails in as he continues to fuck you on himself, using you as his own personal cock sleeve until he cums inside you with a loud moan.

[jesuistrestriste]

frustrated, overworked, sad art donaldson who comes home to you after losing what was supposed to be an ‘easy win’

and when he gets in the door, he doesn’t even take his shoes off before he’s tracking you down in your guys’ apartment; he could’ve been a bloodhound in a past life with the way he’s able to find you just by scent alone

when he does find you, curled up on the bed as you work on your laptop, there’s not a moment of hesitation before he’s crawling up over you and pushing your device aside. he’s got this soft, needy expression on his face, and then you feel his sticky + sweaty body pressing down over yours.

he’s already aching in his athletic shorts, pent up from all the adrenaline and guilt from the loss. he begins rutting down over your clothed hips like a dog in heat; burying his face into the warmth of your neck and murmuring little words and whines and moans.

his palms are pressed down on either side of your body to cage you in, his fingers curled to clutch the sheets as he bucks and rolls his cock against your pelvis. you can feel it too, it’s hot and pulsing and heavy in the confines of the fabric, and he doesn’t seem like’s gonna stop to wait for you to give any sort of protest.

you do try, pushing your hands against his chest and saying things like, “Art— wait—“

but he just shakes his head and lets out a pleading, guttural whine as he fucks your body through the layers of cotton and spandex material. your hesitancy to indulge him right away only riles him up more; heightening the desperation boiling in his core.

he’s not even totally aware of what he’s doing now, just mindlessly and frantically pushing his body down over yours and babbling rushed, whispered phrases.

“oh god, please— please, i wan’ you, need you, need this—“

“need to feel you, need to— i j-just— ohhh— fuuhhcckkk—!”

“can i come? i can’t hold it— im not gonna hold it— can’t— stop— oh shit—! baby, i’m gonna come.. ‘m gonna— about to—!”

he spills into his boxers + his shorts, gushing thick ropes as he shudders and mouths at your neck. his jaw is nearly slack.

art’s usually one to take things slow, so this whole thing is odd, but you start to realize that he’s probably only behaving this way because he’d just lost the match you sent him off to on his own.

you don’t need him to tell you that he lost, you know now.

you hold him as he collapses, panting and gasping, and you kiss the side of his head.

“you’ll do better next time,” you whisper to him.

he won’t.

[emmyrosee]

✨shiu’s version✨

“But! But!”

“Baby,” shiu chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “it’s gotta come off, I’m sorry.”

He’s not exactly surprised this is your reaction, he’s had his mustache since the day you’ve met. Every kiss you’ve shared, every word he’s spoke to you, every time you’ve looked at him, his facial hair has been there.

And now he has to shave it off.

You pout at him softly, “it’s going to be so weird without it…”

He quirks a brow, “you’re not with me just for the facial hair, right doll?”

“No, but it does help!” You whine.

He snickers and shakes his head, “and now your loyalty is being put to the test. It’s going.”

You huff in annoyance and cross your arms, turning away from him childishly. He quirks a brow before leaning down to kiss you, which you don’t return. “Come on, don’t be a brat. You know it’s gotta come off.”

You sigh and gently press a kiss to his lips, even if just to feel the facial hair one last time. He smirks and presses one more, trailing his lips down your neck, where you giggle softly. “There’s my baby,” he hums, and you toss your arms around his neck to keep him close.

He entertains you for a bit, before finally pulling back with a sigh, “say goodbye, baby.”

You pout, “goodbye, the shiu I know and love.”

“You’ll love me ‘stacheless, I promise.” At his words, you pull a face, and he gently nudges your lip with his thumb before spinning on his heel to make his way down the hall.

He can’t remember the last time he was clean shaven, it was long and far from when you met him, but he could use the change.

He picks up the razor, rolls his shoulders for confidence, and gets to work.

The process doesn’t take long, a couple of nicks on his lip from the lack of experience, and within a few minutes, the deed is done.

“Baby?” He calls, wiping his face with a towel.

“No.”

He chuckles, “I’m coming out.”

“Stay in there.”

He exits the bathroom swiftly, and when you see him in your peripheral, your hands immediately fly to your eyes to cover them.

“You want to see it?” He asks, and with your hands childishly covering your eyes, you shake your head. He snickers and shrugs, “well, you’re going to see it at some point.”

“No I won’t,” you argue. “I’ll stay blindfolded forever.”

“What about the kisses that you beg and plead for? Won’t those pretty hands get in the way?”

You whimper in your throat before sighing and taking your hands off of your eyes, your eyes immediately darting to his upper lip and your face scrunches.

“Ohhh, it’s a baby!” You pout, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. He laughs as you whine, “god I’m dating a baby!”

“Don’t say that, it’ll get you on a list somewhere.”

“Shiuuuuuuhhhh,” you whine. “If you clench hard, will it grow back faster?”

He tips his head back in mock thought, “no. I don’t think so, angel.”

“Will you try?” You plead.

He sighs dramatically before looking down at you in amusement. “You know what? For you?” He leans down to kiss you again.

“Anythin’ doll.”

[peachetteprice]

Pt. 1

Jeweller!Price - after receiving a follow-up letter adressed from you in the post, dated and timed for the following Wednesday at a given location, in which something would take place, worth his time or otherwise - spends two evenings laboriously carving, soldering, shaping and filing the prettiest band from your engagement ring, just big enough to slip around his cock when hard, in the hopes that you might position your stressed little head between his legs and suck off a man greater deserving than that of your husband, if he can be so haughty, all the while he strokes your hair and convinces you that you're the most darling woman in the world, tiger-skin and all.

Though, that's by-the-by, as when you finally see him in the flesh, all six-and-a-half inches of him, perched within a recliner in the most lavish hotel room your money can buy, you know you'd rather spend your evening experimenting with how much of his girth can pad out your cunt, wishing to repay the man who made you feel more precious than your sod ever did, particularly as he fesses mid-thrust that he's stuffing you with your own engagement ring (oh, how it makes you feel more whole than during your entire marriage), and especially when he groans like that, guiding himself into your drooling girl as if returning an aircraft to its rightful hanger, grunting and whispering;

"You'll never have his cock without being reminded of mine, sweets. Hm?"

And he's right. You won't. Have his cock again, that is.

You file for divorce the next morning.

| Masterlist |

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kildare enduro

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, nipple play, p in v sex, unprotected sex, loner reader, brief talk about wards death, takes place during s4e1 (no sofia.), drinking, kind of drunk sex but they actually specifically say they dont want to be that drunk

“not just john b- look at that other late entry…” the announcer says, looking to his co-host also positioned in front of a microphone.

“do you recognize who is under that helmet?” he asks.

“i do not… i guess we have a mystery contender as well.”

rafe looks over the crowd, frowning inside of his helmet when he realizes there's no one here to cheer him on, eyes glaring with jealousy at the crowd of pogues. it's one of his biggest complaints about the event, the fact that they're allowed to compete too with their shit bikes and even worse racing abilities.

“and that bike… is that a modified ktm 450 rally? that's a beautiful machine. not too different from rafe camerons. looks like they'll be the ones to watch today.”

the announcers statement has rafe looking over, seeing the blacked out bike with metallic purple and blue accents, and the equally blacked out face mask, not allowing him to see who it is underneath.

“thats got to be the most expensive bike racing here today. dominated last years dakar rally, and pretty much every endurance race it's entered into.”

“very excited to see what the modifications are, looks like enhanced tires for driving through the sand…” 

rafe drones out the voices, focusing on the race to come, especially knowing he's got stiff competition this year.

he takes a deep breath, watching the green flag raise high in the sky before dropping quickly, and he's off like a bolt of lightning, sand spewing up behind him.

he gets instantly to the front, but he can hear someone on his tail. a quick glance to his right reveals the metallic bike, skidding over the top of the sand like it doesn't weigh a pound.

“rafe cameron has the early lead, but our late entry is hot on his tail! this could cause trouble for our previous winner.”

rafe takes the turn and is overtaken, but not by more than a wheel.

“looks like rafe cameron is just beat out as they head into the trees!” the commentator shouts, the crowd clamoring to figure out who knows the rider currently in the lead and pulling away.

rafe doesn't let the other bike get farther than a length ahead as he heads into the whoops, the bike soaring into the air before touching down.

rafe smirks under the mask when the driver ahead briefly loses control, wheel wobbling as it hits an uneven patch of dirt, and rafe speeds ahead, taking advantage of every small mistake.

he's not ahead for long, as his bike stutters in speed heading through the dip in the road, water causing his wheels to spin, while the racer in all black and deep purple speeds past, leaving rafe to groan in frustration, especially when he turns and realizes other bikers aren't far behind.

“and here they come! around the bouy and-oh! cameron just made contact with our leader, it looks like he's getting sick of being behind, and overtakes around the turn with our mystery driver right on his heels!”

rafe smirks as he retakes the lead, not willing to let some random take over his win. rafe pops his front wheel up, revving the engine and coaxing more speed out of the bike, knowing sand is flying in the faces of the riders behind him.

“this race is turning out to be a real nail biter, it could be anyone's game as they head back into the trees.”

“wait, wait- is that? JJ MAYBANK IS GOING TO JUMP THE INLET!”

the crowd of people goes wild as jj leapfrogs to the front of the pack, touching down just in front of the new leader, with rafe hot on his back tire as well.

“and our mystery rider is closing in fast, it looks like jj isn't going to maintain his lead. there could be some serious drama at the end of our race here.”

rafe growls as the bikes all come side by side, squeezing jj in the middle. rafe watches as the other riders leg comes out and kicks at the side of jjs bike, pushing into him, and rafe barely manages to brake and get out of the way, falling behind jj.

“fuck!” rafe shouts. there's no way he's losing to a random rider and maybank. he revs on the throttle, touching the front wheel against jjs back and shoving his bike to the side, not looking back as he careens into the air, managing to keep himself right way up and barely make it to the finish line ahead of topper.

“our mystery rider takes the win! i am dying to know who is under that helmet!” the commentators calls out as the checkered flag is waved.

“ladies and gentlemen, it looks like your enduro champion is…” the entire crowd watches with baited breath as the blacked out helmet comes off, and long flowing hair comes tumbling down.

there's an audible gasp, and rafe has to blink to make sure there isn't sand in his eyes and what he's seeing is real.

“is that… y/f/n y/l/n? i think it is! who even knew she raced? what an amazing, showstopping performance from the female rider!”

rafe tugs his helmet off, shoving down the kickstand on his bike. “y/n?” rafe shouts out.

he doesn't know you very well, not very well at all, but your reputation precedes you. graduated a few years before him, you've always been seen as one of the top kooks, your family being established in the area for generations.

“oh, hey.” you smile at him, fingers running through your hair as the crowd surges in now that the bikes have halted. “good race.” you look him up and down. “i mean, i guess not good enough though.”

“this is our first female winner in kildare enduro history! ladies and gentleman, give it up again for y/n.”

“let's go!” you scream out as someone lifts you into the air, raising your helmet far over your head.

rafe knows second means nothing as he grunts angrily. he kicks himself for messing up in the woods, if he would have come out before you there's no way he wouldn't be the one being celebrated at the moment.

--

“on me.” you state to rafe as you slide a beer over the counter to him, coming to take a seat next to him, sipping on your own.

“shouldn't you be celebrating or some shit?” rafe questions, his voice low and rough as he watches a drop of beer sip down your chin.

“i am celebrating.” you state. “what does it look like?”

“where's all your friends and shit?” rafe looks around, expecting to see the same gaggle of girls you used to hang around with in high school.

“what friends?” you scoff under your breath, before frowning and looking at rafe. “i don't see anyone with you either. not even topper. he's not your little servant anymore?”

“me and top are fine.” rafe says. in truth, he's pushed everyone away since wards death, and eventually topper stopped trying, stopped checking in.

“mhm.” you hum, finishing off your beer and flagging down the bartender for another.

“since when did you race anyways?” 

“always have.” you shrug, looking over at rafe, realizing for the first time now that you're up close to him how dazzling his eyes are. “just kept it to myself. not exactly a lady like hobby.”

“a hobby?” rafe scoffs. “you call the way you raced a hobby?”

“i was shit today.” you shake your head. “made mistakes.”

“it was only with your slight mistakes that i was even close.”

“watch yourself, cameron.” you take a sip of your beer. “it sounds like you're starting to be nice to me.”

“sounds like you need someone to be nice to you.” rafe is shocked by the fact that no one seems to care that the enduro race winner is in the bar, like the shock of finding out who won quickly wore off, leaving you alone once again.

“i like being alone.” you state, swallowing harshly to hide your true emotions. “all friends turn out to be fake in the end.”

“family too.” rafe frowns, before finishing the rest of his beer.

“want another?” you ask, tilting your head to the side, your hair flowing over your shoulder, just urging rafe to reach out and touch.

“no.” he shakes his head. “don't wanna be too drunk.”

“too drunk for what?” you hum.

“for when i try to take you home.”

--

“fuck.” you moan, head pressing back into the pillows as rafe continues sucking on your nipple, his hand between your thighs.

“god, right there!” you squeal out as he rubs against your clit, your wetness only growing by the second.

you reach down and push at the waistband of his underwear, trying to tempt him to take them off, but rafe just switches to the other side of your chest, sucking a deep purple hickey on the side of your breasts before taking your nipple back in his mouth.

rafes finger drops to prod at your entrance, feeling how warm you are as his digit slowly sinks in, your moans only growing as you pussy sucks in his finger.

“fuck,” you whine. “need that to be your cock, come on.”

rafe keeps his movement slow as he thrusts his finger in and out, feeling the gummy texture of your walls and the way your cunt grips him, knowing he's going to love having his cock inside you.

rafe adds in a second finger, feeling you stretch and adjust as he moves back to your other nipple, his tongue dragging across your chest, not wanting to lose the taste of your skin for even a second.

the race is in the back of his mind, the last thing he wants to think about. he'd lose a million times more if it gets you in his bed, moaning and pulsing around his fingers.

“rafe-” you tug at his short hair, his head lifting up to look at you, lips pink and glossy. “fuck me.”

rafe smiles, glad that you're just as needy as he is. he regrets not pursuing you earlier, if only he knew what he was missing just down the street.

rafe shoves his underwear down and flings them off the bed. your eyes widen as you take in his length, but you can't stay looking for long as rafes lips smash into yours.

your arms wrap around his neck, tugging him in flush to your body as his cock presses against your entrance, already hard just from kissing and fingering you.

rafes lips mold perfectly to you as he presses in, and this time he doesn't bother going slow, immediately setting a fast pace as his hips move back and forth.

your kiss turns into gasps and moaning into each other's mouth, your hands coming to rafes cheeks, keeping his face close, keeping his blissed out eyes locked with yours.

“your-” rafe grunts as he fucks you. “your pussy is perfect.”

you smile and surge up to press your lips against rafes. “a winners pussy.” you can't help but continue to rub the race in, at least a little bit.

“consider this my congratulations.” rafe smirks as one hand drops to rub at your pussy, thumb stroking your clit in even movements, contrasting the rapid, desperate thrusts.

your eyes slide closed as much as you wish you could keep them open, watching rafe above you, but the pleasure is all too much as he pounds into you.

you pull your knees up, spreading your legs even wider, giving even more space for rafe to fuck into you, his thrusts turning feral as his moans turn to grunts and growls.

“want…” you gasp out. “want your cum in me.”

“you're not gonna get it that easy.” rafe smirks, suddenly flipping so you're on top, his back bouncing against the mattress as you flop forward against him, hips high in the air.

you don't let up for even a second, immediately taking over the movements as you raise and lower your cunt, bouncing on his cock.

rafe doesn't stop either, an arm circling around your waist as he thrusts up off the bed to meet you.

“gonna make me put in work even though i won?” you hum out, breasts pushing against rafes bare torso, his hard muscles stimulating your already sensitive nipples.

“damn right.” rafe smirks. “can't let you get off too easily for that maybank move.”

you tsks. “never liked that fucking pogue anyways.”

“i think i might have to marry you.” rafe chuckles, heart fluttering when he sees you smile, swearing you're glowing as he pumps his hips up into you.

“don't… stop.” you move one hand to over rafes, pushing it tight against your pussy, keeping his thumb in place as it thrumbs against you.

“im close too.” rafe states, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead as he puts all his effort into thrusting up into you, into spearing his cock as deep into your pussy as he can.

you let out a moan, and with one more swipe of rafes thumb, you're gone, entire body shaking before going slack, leaving rafe to quickly flip you over, hands coming to your hips as he pushes inside of you, cumming in spurts, filling you up with his warmth.

rafe collapses next to you the moment he finishes, arms completely giving out from the exhaustion of your activities and the earlier race.

you both breathe deeply, trying to regain some sort of mental clarity as your high wears off.

“shit.” you whine out, breaking the silence. “we gotta do that more often.”

“and…” rafe turns over, propping his head up on his elbow. “maybe get dinner together too?”

“rafe cameron, are you asking me out on a date?” you laugh.

“i just came inside of you, i don't think it should be that surprising.” rafe rolls his eyes. “besides, seems like you could use some company.”

you turn to face rafe as well, his blue eyes looking into yours. “i don't usually date losers, but i guess second place isn't too bad.”

rafe shakes his head before pressing your lips back together.