#god this kiss is seared into my brain

[booasaur]

Yellowjackets - 2x07

[excelsior9173]

okay. fully understand that the general public will not understand or care about technical ballet terms and that it’s a complete nonissue and meaningless throwaway in my book

but reading fouettés being described simply as “spins on one foot” is hurting something in my soul 😂 fouettés are a bitch. and this character did 32 in a row??? without moving from her position??? i could manage maybe 3-4 before i was wobbling all over the place and my grounding foot was shifting

like these were the turns we spent YEARS building the technique and strength to be able to perform. in theory they’re relatively simple but if your grounding foot slides even an inch you’re not perfect. and ballet is all about perfection. nothing out of place.

anyways. i was a terrible ballerina, never built for it. but i cannot let this little piece of writing go lol. it just feels like the author did the most surface level research for ballet terms and threw it into this book to attempt to make it feel like she knew what she was talking about lmao

[sinfulcries]

I WANNA FUCK YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL! / GOJO SATORU

AUTHORS NOTE: wow dylan’s writing again after a million years 🤓 i could not miss out on halloween so what better way to celebrate than to destroy gojo’s ass? i miss you guys lots and i miss getting all creative nd being able to write again after dealing with so many stressful things irl <\3 this is pretty tame compared to my previous smuts and this is like also a month old so my apologies 🙂‍↕️

CONTENT WARNINGS! knife play, overstimulation, pet names (doll, sweetheart,) slasher reader x victim gojo, implied marathon sex

"That's it, baby, spread those pretty legs f'me." A dark chuckle escaped your lips as the rough tips of your fingers roamed the smooth expanse of Satoru's legs, opening them wide enough to reveal his leaking cock lying hard and useless on his flat stomach. Satoru could only muster a whine in response, trying to pull you in deeper whilst your thick cock nudged teasingly against his puckering hole. "Please," He whimpered prettily, his pale cheeks flushing red with arousal and hunger.

The white haired man didn't need to see your face to know that you were grinning down at him sadistically underneath the ghostface mask you were wearing, and it only made his cock twitch with need as you pinned him down onto the plush mattress— rendering him utterly helpless against you. "I'm about to kill you and yet here you are begging for my cock." You laughed amusedly at the absurdity of the situation, making the poor man pout. "S'not fair you're so big that I wanna feel you in my guts."

Okay, Maybe you'd keep him as your slut instead with how desperate he was. Slender legs wrapping around your waist coaxing you to just fuck and claim him already.

"You're playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart." You growled through the cheap plastic of your mask, reaching down to push your thick fingers between Satoru's lips, his tongue instantly swirling around the thick digits getting them nice and wet as his gaze never left yours.

God, He was a filthy little thing, and you couldn't help but notice the way his hole clenched around nothing every time your free hand trailed the knife's blade teasingly against his inner thigh. Satoru pulled away from your fingers with a wet pop, glaring up at you through thick eyelashes. "Just put it in already." He growled impatiently, and you only responded by pressing the blade harder against his skin, the tip of the knife threatening to dig into his flesh.

Satoru only gulped in response at the action, a shiver running up his spine feeling the cold metal of your knife kissing his thigh. "Okay, okay— calm down." He tried to laugh off his insistent whining with a practiced grin however, you could see the lingering traces of fear swirling in those blue eyes. "Just be patient, doll." You murmured raspily, spreading the lube you had used earlier to finger his sweet little hole open with your thick fingers around his twitching rim.

You couldn't help but notice the way Satoru threw his head back against the pillows, his bruised chest heaving as you rubbed his lubed entrance messily. He was so sensitive. So easy to break. And the thought of splitting him open on your fat cock made it jut against his thigh with aching need.

Wasting no more time, you aligned the fat head of your cock in front of his wet hole before thrusting in with one brutal snap of your hips. Satoru's eyes widened impossibly, his hands scrambling to grip the headboard as a high pitched scream ripped past his throat.

"Fuck—! S..So big—!" He mewled, moving his hips in sync with the way you jackhammered into him like a cheap fleshlight. Satoru wrapped his legs around your waist weakly, trying to anchor himself with the way your fat cock battered his prostate— And as his screams and the wet squelch of skin against skin filled the room, the white haired man could slowly feel his brain melting with searing hot pleasure.

"Take it." You growled possessively, continuing to rut into his ass like a beast in rut, angling your hips to reach deeper inside of his hole. "D'you like that, doll? You've been beggin' for this all night."

Satoru could only nod frantically in response, his brain too mushy to form any coherent words. You could see a white creamy ring of cum forming at the base of your cock, the sight only fuelling you to pound your willing little victim until he passed out, still impaled on your unrelenting length.

"'S too much..!" He squealed, arching his back as your cock drilled in harder, rearranging his insides until they were moulded to fit your big cock. "Can't take it—! 'M-M gonna die..!" With a loud cry, his body started convulsing in your hold, trying to squirm away from the brutal onslaught of your merciless thrusts.

"Don't chicken out on me now, doll." You warned lowly, now pressing the cold edge of your knife against his throat, each thrust driving the blade closer to his jugular. "We have a long night ahead of us."

[monamipencil]

study break ! | l.jh

pairings; fem! reader x jihoon | genre; smut, fluff, established relationship, minors do not interact | tw; fingering, pussy slapping, spitting, making out, reader is stressed due to exams, mention of caffeine | a/n; i very much need this lmao and to anyone who has exams coming up, you got this!!

“you said—hungh—only a few minutes!”

the wet sounds of jihoon's fingers fucking your hole fills your ears. your legs are spread wide apart and quivering under the pleasure he brings you.

“well, I didn't see you cum,” he says, though he's well aware that he's currently working on your third orgasm of the evening.

“but I did! ah—fuck, yes there!”

his curled fingers rubbing against that spongy spot has you seeing stars. you grind your clit on the heel of his palm, stimulating the little nub. your lips fall apart, letting out wanton, broken moans with no care. the only thought in your brain belongs to your boyfriend and his fingers.

“feels good?” he purrs, looking down at you with hooded eyes. you nod mindlessly with tears welling up in your eyes. the cold material of your study table feels good against your searing skin.

“good, can't have my baby get all stressed over an exam.”

you whine at the reminder of your dreaded test but it's pushed down when you feel the tight knot in your stomach. jihoon pulls out his fingers to deliver a slap to your cunt. you gasp at that, wanting more of it. he chuckles, looking at your expression.

“want more?” you nod again, absolutely no thoughts other than this god of a man.

he slaps your clit again and spits on it. a mixture of a whine and a gasp escapes your lips when he smears his spit on your folds and rubs your clit harshly.

that prompts you to sit up on your study table, hips bucking into his hands. your notes and books scattered away to avoid any damage to them.

“fuck,” he mutters, eyes skating over your glossy eyes and puffy lips. your eyes flutter shut as you tilt your head, leaning up to him. he takes the cue, and slots his lips on yours. his tongue slips past your lips with practiced ease.

his ministrations on your clit doesn't cease even as he pushes his tongue down your throat. you glide your tongue over his, savoring the warm, wet feeling of it. it only makes you more wet and horny.

your cunt throbs wildly and the knot only grows tighter. you grind your cunt into his hand, chasing the relief you so badly needed. he adds two digits inside you while continuing to thumb your clit. your moans are silenced to hums by his tongue.

and without warning, you reach your orgasm. it throws you over the edge and you curl your arms over his shoulders to prevent yourself from losing it.

his pace slows down as he gently pumps his fingers in and out of you. he breaks the kiss, pulling away to look at you. and the sight in front of him is mesmerizing.

your fucked out expression, your puffy, parted lips, your heaving chest, your quivering legs and your slick cunt. well, shit.

he hisses, feeling this cock throb under his pants but he controls himself. he did it to relieve your stress, not pleasure himself. he won't be selfish now but he can always be later.

with a kiss to your cheek, he walks to grab a towel. he presses the wet cloth on your cunt and wipes off your fluids. jihoon helps you put on your panty and shorts in your dazed state.

“sorry hun,” he presses a kiss to your forehead. “i couldn't help it.”

you chuckle, “it's fine.”

he hums and helps you sit on your comfy chair. your confused eyes follow him as he slips on his jacket and takes his purse. he flashes you a grin, “i'll go buy us some coffee and energy drinks. i'll pull an all-nighter with you, ok?”

you nod and smile, looking at him with literal hearts in your eyes. the apartment door shuts behind him and then only you allow yourself to squeal hit your head against the table.

a permanent smile etches on your lips as you flip through your study material, happy to have a boyfriend like jihoon.

[p0orbaby]

Tropicana with the Bits

summary: honeymoon sex on a boat? yes fucking please

warnings: SMUT 18+, public sex (boat), strap-on use, use of a camera, spit, spanking, dom!ale vibes

a/n: this has been sat half cooked in my draft for a while. a certain blonde’s performances in the olympics have spurred me to finish it…

word count: 1.4k

-

This is the fucking life.

The sun. The sea. And a ‘24 quadruple under your belt.

Oh, and a shiny new ring and a brand new wife to tie everything up nicely.

Like a lazy, spoiled cat, you stretch out on the deck of the yacht, the gentle rocking of the boat a sleep-inducing background rhythm. The Mediterranean sun kisses your skin, leaving a warm, tingling sensation that pairs well with the salt of the sea air. A soft breeze rustles the pages of a magazine you’ve abandoned, and the distant squawk of gulls mingles with the sound of waves lapping against the hull. You close your eyes, letting the tranquility wash over you.

Alexia commands the helm, her presence undeniable even in stillness. Dressed in a white linen shirt, unbuttoned to reveal her abs and the curves of her breasts, and a harness snug against her hips, she looks like a wild, untamed champion. The breeze teases her hair, and her eyes meet yours with a predatory gaze.

You think back to the first time you met her on the pitch. Mature for her age, dominating the midfield with grace and power, even back then. And you hated it. You hated how she skipped past you like you were nothing. Discarding you like you were dirt on the bottom of her boots.

She was so effortlessly good, it drove you mad.

Mad to the point that there wasn’t a second that went by that your thoughts weren’t filled with one Alexia putellas. Her smirk emblazoned on the inside of you eyeless every time you tried to sleep. Her intensity clouding your head enough to make you miss simple passes, your concentration shattered by the mere thought of her. She haunted your dreams and invaded your waking moments, a constant, maddening presence.

And things haven’t really changed.

She looks at you with that same intensity, but you know it’s because she’s thinking about what position she likes you in best, not the fastest way in which she can embarrass you on the grass. Your brain is still plagued by the thought of her, but now you know what she’s hiding underneath those jerseys, so your brain fog is warranted.

You are certain your wife is made by the gods themselves.

Leaving the wheel, she approaches with a slow, deliberate stride. Her shirt billows open, exposing more of her tanned skin and the black strap-on jutting proudly from her hips. The sight sends a rush of heat through you, your body aching for her touch.

Or aching from how much she has touched thus far into your honeymoon. You can’t tell, and you don’t care to. This is your time to celebrate, to relax and enjoy your freedom. Her touch, her voice, her presence—everything about Alexia drives you wild with desire. You remember the late-night whispers and her mischievous grin when she suggested bringing a camera on this trip. The memories of your wedding night flood back, the way she took you on the balcony of your suite, moonlight caressing your intertwined bodies.

This time, there’s a camera set up in the corner, its lens catching the light like a voyeur. A wedding gift from you to her, both the camera and its purpose. The idea of being filmed, of capturing these intimate moments forever, had always excited her, and after years of her playful begging, you finally relented.

So here you are, as naked as the day you were born, squirming slightly as anticipation coils in your belly.

Alexia kneels beside you, her hands cool against your heated skin as she traces patterns on your stomach. The strap brushes against your thigh, a teasing promise of what she has in store for you. She leans down, her lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. Her tongue explores your mouth, her teeth grazing your lower lip, and you melt into her. Her other hand grips your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, where she leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses.

She pulls back, her eyes dark with desire. “¿Estás preparada?” she murmurs, her voice a low growl. You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. She smirks, her fingers trailing down your body to part your thighs. Her touch is confident, experienced, each stroke designed to drive you wild. She pauses, glancing at the camera, her eyes gleaming with excitement before returning her focus to you.

The first thrust is slow, deliberate, the strap filling you inch by inch. You gasp, your hands clutching at her shoulders, your nails digging into her skin through her shirt. She moves with a rhythm that’s almost hypnotic, each stroke driving you higher, closer to the edge. The feeling of the silicone inside you, combined with the solid deck beneath you and the gentle rocking of the yacht, is almost too much to bear.

Alexia leans down, her breath hot against your ear. “Te ves tan jodidamente bien,” she whispers, her voice rough with arousal. The words send a thrill through you, your body tightening around the strap. She grins, a feral expression, and picks up the pace, her hips snapping against yours with increasing intensity. She’s putting on a show, not just for you but for the camera, her movements precise and deliberate.

She pauses for a moment, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back in hard, eliciting a sharp cry from you. “You like that, don’t you?” she taunts, her voice dripping with dominance. “You love being fucked like this, being watched.” Her words make you moan louder, pleasure and embarrassment making your skin flush.

Alexia’s hand slides between your legs, her fingers finding your clit and rubbing in slow, torturous circles. “Beg for it,” she demands, her voice firm. When you hesitate, she smacks your thigh, the sting sharp and thrilling. “I said beg for it”

“Please, Ale,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “Please, fuck me harder”

She smirks, clearly pleased with your response. “Buena chica,” she purrs, increasing the pressure on your clit as she resumes thrusting, harder and faster this time. Your moans grow louder and you’re certain you have just disturbed a flock of Caspian Tern.

Alexia grabs your hips, lifting them slightly to change the angle, each thrust hitting deeper, making you see stars, galaxies, andromeda. Her free hand moves to your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath catch, causing you to suck in breaths when she’s too distracted to press at your windpipe.

“Such a pretty sight,” she murmurs, glancing at the camera again. “All spread out and desperate for me”

She leans down, spitting on your chest and rubbing it into your skin with rough, possessive strokes. “Mine,” she growls, her eyes burning with intensity.

You can barely form a coherent thought, your entire world narrowed down to the relentless rhythm of her hips, the firm grip on your throat, and the fiery trail her spit leaves on your skin. Each thrust pushes you closer to the infinity, the pressure building inside you like a ticking time bomb.

Alexia’s hand moves from your throat to your ass, delivering a sharp slap that makes you cry out. “Take it,” she commands, her voice scratchy with arousal and sharp with authority. “Take everything I give you”

You nod frantically, your body on fire with need. She slaps you again, harder this time, the pain mingling with the pleasure in a deliciously heady mix. Her movements become almost brutal, each thrust sending shockwaves through you, your orgasm building to an almost unbearable intensity.

“Look at me,” she commands, her voice a growl that sends another wave of pleasure through you. You force your eyes open, meeting her gaze. The intensity there is almost too much to bear, a conflagration of desire and possessiveness that leaves you breathless. She smirks, pleased with your obedience, and redoubles her efforts, her hips driving into you with unrelenting force.

When you finally come, it’s with a force that leaves you shaking, your entire body tensing and then releasing like spring that’s snapped under the weight of pleasure. Alexia doesn’t stop, drawing out your orgasm, riding it out until you’re a quivering, boneless mess beneath her.

Only then does she slow, her movements gentle, soothing, as she helps you come down from the high. She leans in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, a stark contrast to the fire behind her movements just seconds ago.

Finally spent, she collapses beside you, pulling you into her arms. You nestle against her, your head resting on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. Her hand strokes your back, a comforting rhythm that lulls you into a state of blissful contentment. The gentle rocking of the yacht, the warmth of her body against yours, it’s all perfect, a cocoon of love and satisfaction. Alexia glances over at the camera, a satisfied smile playing on her lips, before she whispers, “This is just the beginning”

[junkissed]

can't get you out of my head

member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am

the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.

the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.

it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 

he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.

so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 

like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.

the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.

one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.

your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.

you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.

your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.

you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.

if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—

before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.

he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.

the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.

so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 

maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…

… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?

well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.

you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.

you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.

for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.

he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.

you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 

he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.

but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.

he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.

but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 

he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.

he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.

sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.

if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.

you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.

throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.

he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.

you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.

it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.

you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.

without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.

you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 

the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.

he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.

you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.

this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.

he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.

"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.

it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.

it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 

"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"

your breath catches a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."

and just like that, things make sense. 

"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.

everything is so simple with hansol.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

> taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @onlymingyus @just-here-to-read-01 @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @limesorbets @98-0603 @fairybinie @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @mingminghao @ifuckcheol @jeanjacketjesus @luvwonyy @tinkerbell460 @novalpha @ronnie97b @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @usari @hyneyedfiz @honestlydooetree @oscarcantread @ktackore @k-drama-adict

> strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings and make sure they are off so i can tag you properly!

> if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

[my-castles-crumbling]

fault - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 343 - NSFW but not explicit

"Listen," Sirius says, looking back and forth between Regulus and James like he still can't believe he's not having a very bad dream, "I'm not saying I'm mad-"

"You look mad," Regulus grumbles, but James elbows him lightly in the ribs.

"-I just don't get it!" Sirius finished, eyes wild. "I mean-don't you two hate each other?"

James ponders this from his spot on the bed next to Regulus, still holding the blanket safely over his bare abdomen. "I mean...no?" he says, looking over to Regulus, who looks like he's trying not to smile.

It's true that they argue. Regulus seems to find James irritating like no other, and James kind of likes to make that little frown appear on Regulus's face. He's not sure why.

"It's his fault," James murmurs petulantly, looking down and blushing a bit. But this is quite the wrong thing to say.

"My fault?" Regulus argues suddenly, turning toward him. "You kissed me!"

"Yeah, but you were yelling!" James retorts, not thinking about his words. "You were saying all sorts of mean things and I just- I just-"

"Kissed him?" Sirius supplies, looking like he can't work out whether to be disgusted or to laugh. "Mate, most people don't get worked up when someone yells, you know."

This only makes James blush more. "But he looks so pretty when he yells," he whispers longingly, pictures of ice-gray eyes and dark hair flying searing through his brain, knowing he's sealed his fate.

Regulus snorts and pinches James's thigh, making him gasp while Sirius makes a choking noise and takes several silent moments before taking a deep breath. "No- you know what? This makes a lot more sense than I thought. Ugh, just- use protection, alright? Gods..." And he leaves, still muttering as he walks out and shuts the door.

But as they are left alone, Regulus turns to James, a satisfied smirk set on his stunning features. "Pretty when I yell, huh?" he asks slyly, slowly moving to straddle James.

But James can't answer. His lips are too busy.

[hypnotiiize]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

In the beginning Jude had been tentative. Playing with the skin on his nails, he would bring the topic up slyly and then go quiet when the conversation got too real: Kids. Children. A baby. 

She knew that he wanted three kids– a boy, two girls, the same as her– as he wouldn’t shut up about it when they were younger. Now it all seemed too real to him, she supposed. 

His full lower lip would stick out in what his wife called a pout and he would search his right and left for something to toy with. If he reminded himself to do neither then his leg would start bobbing. If he stopped his leg then he would change his seating position frequently, too fidgety to stay still. 

She told him that there was no rush. They’d just gotten married. They were both young. Children could wait. 

He’d gotten ahead of himself. Grateful for her support, he placed his palm behind her head and brought her lips to his in what became a searing kiss. His hands dropped to her neck, then to her waist, then he stopped kissing her to watch her eyelashes flutter against the apples of her cheeks. Snow glazed over their windows, the glare from their tree lights melting it quickly. Inside the home, the fire burned slowly. 

She found out in February. Someone off-handedly mentioned a glow about her, only to be taken aback when she gasped raggedly in response. 

He found out later that day. She sat him down and, now, she fidgeted instead. He wrapped an arm around her and asked what was wrong. When he tried to pull her into his lap and she resisted, his lips parted. Wracking his brain, he asked if he had done something and all she could do was shake her head. He moved her hair out of her face as he waited for her answer. 

Two fragile words left her lips. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He repeated the words back to her, a breathless whisper. She nodded. 

The realization hit him in waves. She was pregnant. She was pregnant and he was going to be a father. Possibly, most pertinently, she was pregnant and he was going to be a father and he wanted to leap for joy and shout it from the rooftop of their house. She was pregnant and he was going to be a father and he was ecstatic about it and oh my God she was carrying their child as they spoke.

Her eyes widened when he slid his hand over her midriff softly. So soft that she would not have felt it had she not watched his actions. She watched his eyes flit back and forth, putting something together privately. Then he kissed her, enfolding her body into the sofa and sheltering her form with his.

Their baby would want for nothing, he promised himself. He would be the best father ever. He would be at every game, every talent show, and everything else the kid would want to do. 

Matthew was born on a chilly night in September. Jude remembered the loud cry that quietened when their son was finally placed in his mother’s arms. She welcomed him to the world and the baby all but sighed, snuggling into the familiar warmth of his mother. 

Jude remembered that she always had a way with their son. Frowns turned into smiles when she would so much as hum. The baby was wrapped around her finger just as much as she was his tiny one. 

He struggled not to be jealous of the immediate affection between the two. It always took him a second longer than her. He could make a bottle, but not as fast. He could change a diaper, but not as quickly. He was there every step of the way for his son. Just not as swiftly. 

She had no idea. He smiled whenever the baby responded to her and only her, laughed when their son gripped onto her index finger and wouldn’t let go. She was caught up in the whirl of new motherhood– constant mess, little to no sleep, frantic worrying– to focus on anything other than their son. 

He understood that. In fact, he hated himself more for being so acutely aware of his own feelings during this time. Regardless, he would swallow, smile, and kiss his wife goodnight. He would not burden her, he decided. He would just try harder to connect with his son, whose little head would turn toward his mother’s presence even when Jude was cradling him against his bare chest. 

Matthew’s piercing cry awoke the couple. Having just fell asleep, she could only crack one eye open enough to catch her husband hoisting himself up drowsily. He murmured something to her about taking care of it and darkness engulfed her once more.

She was awoken some time later by the same shrill call that made her senses go haywire. This time, the baby sounded closer. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes just as the bedroom door opened. 

Her husband was walking toward her, holding their son out to her. 

“He won’t stop crying. Please.” His voice cracked. 

She grabbed their son and tried to calm him down as he went on, speaking in a low timbre. 

Jude rubbed the back of his head. “I tried to feed him, I changed him, we went for a walk around the house. I don’t know…” 

She nodded and held her son close to her chest. She rocked him in a familiar rhythm– Staying Alive by the Beegees. After rocking him to the mental ah ah ahs didn’t work, she spoke to him in a whisper. Still, he cried. She pouted and kissed his head. 

“He seems a little colicky, baby,” she informed her husband through a yawn. She thought back to seven years prior, when her Godson had been a newborn and scream-cried in the early hours of the morning. Matthew’s cries were similar. She kissed her poor baby’s cheek and held him tighter. “We just have to wait it out.” 

It was only then that she looked up at her husband who sat at her feet. Her lips fell apart at the tear that glistened along Jude’s cheek.

She leaned forward. “Baby, what happened? Are you okay?”

Jude shook his head then palmed his forehead. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“No, why are you crying? What happened?” she pressed.

He blinked extra hard, willing the truth to surface. Salt-flavored tears fell. 

“I just. I just thought he was crying because of something I did. And I swore I did everything right but I couldn’t… I wouldn’t be able to breathe if I hurt him. I just–” The corners of his full lips quivered, guilt clawing its way up his soul. He placed his head in his hands.

“Jay,” she mumbled and kicked the covers off. She scooted down the bed carefully, crying baby still firmly in the crevice of her right arm. Her left hand reached out, finding his and caressing his knuckles. “It’s not your fault. He’s okay. You didn’t do anything.”

Jude looked up, finally. The tip of his nose was beet red. “Yeah, but what if I did? What if I give him too much milk? Or– or too little? What if his bath water is too hot? I just– he deserves someone who knows what they’re doing.”

She rubbed his chest, hot from the burning mix of emotions. “He deserves you. You’re such a good dad, Jay, you’re the best dad. It’s okay if you make some mistakes.”

“It’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

Jude shook his head, mumbling due to the pinching feeling at the back of his throat. “No, it’s not. No it’s not, because you’re not making these mistakes and it all comes so easily to you and no matter how much I read those books I would never have been able to tell that he was cowlick or something because I’m just– My brain doesn’t work like that. He deserves someone else. I’m too–” He bit his lip. His nostrils flared as a new wave of tears overcame him. “I’m just dumb and it’s not clicking for me. I try so hard. I try and try. I love him with everything in me and he just doesn’t love me like he loves you and now I don’t even know how to soothe him when he’s crying. I’m a horrible father, oh my God.”

Her first feeling was panic. For a split second, she wanted to dig her nails into his arm to ensure that he would not leave. The next second, she wanted to cry for even thinking that thought. 

“No you’re not. Don’t say that,” was all she could manage at first. She rubbed his cheek. “You’re an excellent father, Jude. I’m in awe of you most times. You don’t freak out when there’s spit-up or poop or pee on you. You wake up every night to be with him. You put him to sleep in, like, five seconds! You’re having a breakdown because you can’t fathom the idea of hurting him in any way. You’re so good. He doesn’t need someone who knows everything, he needs someone willing to love him with all of their heart and he has that in you. We can learn along the way.” 

“He doesn’t like me,” said Jude, shaking his head.

Her jaw dropped. “What do you mean he doesn’t like you?! He adores you!” 

Jude sniffled, not fully taking heed of his wife’s words of encouragement. His eyes flitted to his weeping son whose bottom lip began to quiver. This was a different form of a cry, he realized. 

“He’s getting cold, baby,” Jude informed his wife quickly. 

She blindly felt around the bed for something to wrap their son in. 

“See? You caught that so fast,” she commended, fingers brushing against something that she could not yet see. She covered Matthew’s small form quickly then concentrated on her husband, rubbing his shoulder. Her ring finger glittered in the pale moonlight. 

Jude wasn’t responding. His brown eyes stared off into space. She could see him working his jaw the same way he would all those years ago. No longer was he her husband. Now, he was an insecure eighteen-year-old, tall and anxious and not quite sure where he fit in. She thought about what would have gotten eighteen-year-old Jude out of the rut and then she contemplated calling one of his friends for a pep talk. Trent was a father, too– but she knew that this was too personal. This was not a matter of friendly advice. This was a matter of her husband not feeling worthy.

Then, wails became cries. Cries became sniveling. Sniveling turned into whimpering.

She looked down at her son in amazement. She finally saw what she had wrapped around her baby. 

Experimentally, she pulled the cloth from him and his cries picked up. She grabbed something else and wrapped it around him, and if Matthew could speak he would have cursed at her. She grimaced as his legs kicked, strong for such a small human. She tried one more new object then gave in, finding the fabric she had originally cocooned him in. She placed his arms down and swaddled him, giggling softly when he went from full screaming to whimpering at once.

She tapped her husband who gently blinked himself out of his trance. 

“Look,” she began, holding Matthew out. “Look what got him to stop crying.”

Jude grasped his son, supporting his head and neck expertly. He lightly tugged on the cloth around the baby before peeking back at his spot on the bed. 

The corner of his mouth tugged up. “Is this my pajama shirt?” he asked. 

She grinned so big that her tongue was between her teeth. “Of course it is.”

Jude smiled slyly. 

His son yawned, then. A big one, where his nostrils flared and his eyes squinted and his fingers spread out. In the next moment, he gripped onto his father’s t-shirt with one sure fist. 

Jude chewed on his bottom lip to keep from crumbling further. He placed a soft kiss to his son’s cheek, then laughed a tad when he saw the corner of Matthew’s mouth frown. 

“He’s about to start crying again,” he knew.

“Quick! Rock him!” said his wife.

Jude stood, baby in his arms, and swayed. Under his breath, he sang Staying Alive. Matthew’s eyes would droop with every ah ah ah ah that came and then widen if Jude stopped singing for even half a second. 

She stood, too. She danced with her boys until Matthew was fully asleep, and then she pressed her lips to her husband’s. 

“I love you sooo much,” she told him. “And still, that baby loves you way more than me. Believe me.” 

Later, when he was putting Matthew back in his crib, he straightened up and noticed the ice along the baby’s window. He walked over and tapped his index finger against it, remembering the ice from the year before. 

Before, when it was just the two of them. When they were buying gifts for all of their friends. When the eggnog was in full swing. When the thought of children would make him squirm. 

He rubbed his fingers against the window, smiling when the tips of his fingers came back cold. He took one last look at his son wrapped in his grey Spider-man shirt. He loved that shirt and no one but him could wear it– he had once gotten in an argument with his friend because he’d pretended to spill ice cream cake on it. But he was more than happy to pass it on to his son.

He crossed the hallway to his room and tried to lay down. Two minutes later, he found himself back in his son’s room. He rolled Matthew’s crib across the hall, through the door, and around to his side of the bed. 

When he fell asleep, one hand through the bars of the crib and holding onto his son, he knew for sure that he didn’t know what he did to deserve the life he lived.

But he would do his best to live up to it.

[anathemaspeaks]

whatever she wants

gojo satoru is the man who gets you whatever you want. another lip gloss? he'll give you five. a new purse? you've got it. you're hungry? best believe he's already placed an order for your favorite food and drinks.

you were his god, he would worship you all day long if you let him. he spoiled you rotten.

so naturally, he's the same in the bedroom too.

he's thrusting into you slowly, teasingly, dragging in and out his massive cock from your drenched, already overstimulated pussy. he rubs his fat, pink, flushed cockhead against your folds, tantalizingly, just short of giving you what you need.

he lets it catch onto your clit, smearing your liquids all over your pussy with his pretty tip. he lets it hit a few more times, thriving in the way you arch your back off the bed, begging for more despite how much he's already given you.

"s'pretty for me, look at you, fuck" he coos at you, warm hands running all over your body, lips ghosting yours, saliva coating both of your mouths, with his eyes drinking in the sight of you, so worn out, hickeys covering your neck and tits. all because of him.

pride swelled in his chest as he admires his work.

and my, you were a vision.

tits bouncing with every thrust, eyes clouded and teary from how fucking good he was making you feel, so very drunk on his massive dick, hair tousled and legs spread out all for him. his name on your mouth like a prayer, broken cries of "'toru please, need more, need you closer"

and oh, he could stay like this forever.

you underneath him, hopelessly at his mercy, for the fifth time that night. he loved how desperate you sounded for his cock, how filthy you looked with his cum leaking out of your squelching pussy as he continued to thrust. he loved the creamy ring on the base of his cock, proof that he had stuffed you so good.

so of course he gives you what you want. how could he not?

he snaps his hips suddenly, bottoming out in you with one sharp thrust and shit, he loses all the remnants of his self restraint. he lets out a heady groan, eyes rolling into the back of his head, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"f-fuck, such a good girl, my good girl, hmm?" he let out in between breaths, the feeling of your pussy swallowing him whole making him delirious.

you drove him insane. cunt soaking wet, plush walls letting him abuse your poor pussy over and over, his cock plowing into you with the force of a man starved. he thrusts into you faster and faster, pushing your legs up further against your chest, groaning and whining so loud for you.

he claimed your soft lips with his again, uncharacteristically gentle for a man fucking your brains out. he trailed down hot, sloppy kisses down your neck, taking one of your tits into his warm mouth and fondling the other one with his calloused fingers.

his grip on your waist was searing into your skin as your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the new stimulation on your tits, the heat flooding your whole body, his blue eyes gazing into yours with an intensity that made you fold.

he could never get enough of you.

your hands tugged at his white hair, moving lower and gripping at his shoulders, his back, any part you could reach. he was insatiable, fucking into you so good you lost track of how many times he'd made you cum that night.

the veins of his girthy, long cock dragged against your clit just right, making you see stars in his eyes. unfiltered, filthy praises escaped his mouth, broken whines of how fucking good you feel around him, how your pussy was made for his cock.

you don't know whether it was his unrelenting speed at which he was fucking you, or the way he made out with you, slowly, so messy, a string of saliva still connecting you both once he broke away, or looking at the marks you left on his sculpted body, but all you saw was white hot pleasure.

you came hard and fast, hips bucking wildly into his touch, his pace never faltering and driving you to the edge. only he knows how he held out for so long, immediately losing himself into the feeling of you creaming around his cock and filling you up with his cum.

warm ropes of sticky, white cum oozed out from your abused pussy, hole still twitching, his warm cock resting against your belly with both of you panting to catch your breath.

"done already, 'toru?" you asked with wide eyes and a pout, missing the feeling of him inside you already.

god, yeah, you were going to be the death of him.

credits to @/saradika-graphics for dividers

[m1ngkis]

Hongjoong relieving some stress for you (18+)

A/N: MINORS BE GONE. This contains the sexual intercourse, fingering, and captain my captain why must you be so hot 🫡 MWAH

You can barely drag your feet into the apartment after everything you had been through today.

People at work acting like they had half a brain. People on the road driving like maniacs and endangering your life multiple times.

When you finally got your key through the lock and closed the door behind you, you kicked your shoes off and headed straight for the kitchen.

“Hey honey.” Hongjoong glanced up from his phone at his spot on the couch.

You didn’t even register his voice, too focused on scanning the cabinets for your favorite chips.

“Honey?” Hongjoong glanced up again, his eyes lingering on you a little longer. “You okay?”

“Huh?” You turn to face your boyfriend, chips forgotten as you trudge towards him. “Yeah, it’s been a rough day.”

“Can I help?” He raises his brows and puts his phone to the side as you slip onto the cushion next to him. “Want to talk about it?”

“It’s the usual. Dumb people doing dumb things. It’s just ticking me off a bit more today.” A heavy sigh releases from you as his arm stretches over your shoulders and pulls you to lay on his chest, his heart beat thudding against your ear.

“You’re sure I can’t help?”

“Well…” You lace your fingers with his free hand and lift your chin to rest on his shoulder. “I know what helps when you get stressed..”

You can see him try and fight the smirk tugging at his lips as his hand tightens around yours. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I want to hear you say it.” He releases your hand and grips your chin up so your lips are centimeters apart.

His breath on the tip of your nose and a sweet hum finds its way past your lips as your eyes flutter closed. “Hongjoong.”

“Yes?”

“Make me feel good please?”

“That’s my girl.” Hongjoong smiles, connecting your lips in a kiss as he rearranges your positions.

Next thing you know, his hands are pulling at your jeans and tossing his own shirt away as his tongue explores your mouth.

You lift your hips as he removes your jeans and slips his fingers into your panties. Hongjoong moans when he feels you start to wet his fingers, rubbing tight circles into your clit.

“Gonna make you forget all about today.” His lips travel down you neck until they settle just between your breasts, sucking on your skin as your back arches up.

“Oh please!” Your breath gets heavier by the second as his fingers continue to move against your sensitive clit.

His fingers got sloppy as they covered in your slick and your legs snapped closed as he dipped two fingers into your walls and thrusted shallowly.

“God, you feel so good..can’t wait to get inside you.”

“Ooh..right there!” Your nails dug into his wrists as he angled his fingers to brush your spot with every thrust. Your breathy moans urged him on as his pace quickened, his own moans blending into a beautiful harmony.

Your toes curled as your orgasm hit and before you could get anything out, Hongjoong had the rest of his clothes off and his dick lined up with the opening of your pussy, still clenching around air.

“You might need this more than I do.” You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a searing kiss.

You felt him slide into you, agonizingly inching in as if he had all the time in the world. He loved tasting your moans as you settled around his length and begged in his ear for him to move.

He wanted to stay put for a second, wanted to enjoy the intimacy of having you this near (also so he wouldn’t cum so quickly)

When he did move, you felt it in your bones. The pleasure tingled through your toes and your head dropped back against the couch cushions.

“That’s what you need huh?” Hongjoong pants, his knuckles turning white from his deathly grip on the arm of the couch. “Needed me to fuck this pussy, that’s all?”

“Y-yes! Joong…you’re so good.”

His thrusts pick up as you mumble incoherent words from drooling lips. He has a leg over his shoulder and his hand is just grazing your throat.

He’s holding back from gripping it up and overdoing it but the temptation is killing him.

There you are, taking him so well and your head is thrown back so it’s all on display. He just wants to, “Fucking.. choke me please!”

Your nails claw at his hand as your eyes roll back. And suddenly, heaven on earth doesn’t sound so unreachable when his hand is clenched around your throat, the veins popping out just how you like them.

“Fuuck!” Your voice barely comes out with his punishing strokes.

It’s rewarding when you hear him get more vocal, his moans pitching up and getting whinier as his hips stutter into your pussy. “You gonna make me cum, honey..shit.”

“Please..I’m right there.” You plead as his head dips back into your neck, his eyes screwed shut as he spills into you.

The action triggers your own orgasm and you know you’ll have to apologize to the neighbors with how loud you are.

Hongjoong lifts himself off of you, sliding out with a hiss before adjusting his body to the side.“I love when people get on your nerves..”

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: HE’S SO F**KING BIG THAT HE COULD CRUSH YOU & YOU LOVE IT (18+) (for Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: I came up with this on the fly thinking of getting pounded into my mattress by Zoro & how big n strong he is. He’d probably leave me all bruised & achy but it’d be totally fine with me! This is for the girls who adore the big bois. Enjoy! -Jazz 💋💋💋

*******

“You’re…so…big…and…strong!”

Each word was punctuated by a thrust by your boyfriend hovering over you.

Correction: your very big, very strong, very sexy boyfriend hovering over you, his dick filling you to the brim and his big, veiny hands pinning your knees to your chest. You love it when he does this. When he shows you just how strong he is.

You can’t help but tell your man what he already knows, panting and raggedly moaning out this statement as he puts your ass straight into the mattress. A big, prideful smile stretches across his handsome face shining in sweat from constantly, roughly fucking your pretty brains out of your head.

“Yeah?” He teasingly asks. “Does my baby love gettin’ pinned down and fucked by her big, strong man?”

He speeds up, fucking you at a pace that has your pants and heavy breaths increasing. His cock seems to stretch you out every single he plunges back into the velvety, wet walls of your pussy that squelch and clench around him, gripping him and keeping him there inside of you.

“Yes!” You damn near scream out. “Yes, I fucking love it! I love gettin’ fucked by you, Daddy!”

You grip his hard, broad shoulders and pecs you could motorboat forever, digging your nails into his skin as he fucks you harder. Faster. Rougher. He smiles down at you, leaning down to press a passionate, searing hot kiss to your lips. “Good girl,” he whispers against your mouth.

He then tosses one of your legs over the other and begins to fuck you from the side, driving you up against the bed. Thank God the pillows are above you because your head would be knocking against the headboard at this point…but it is knocking against the wall every time he drives himself into you with all the energy and force he can muster.

You love it when he gets this feral. This uncontrollable. This unbound and unbridled with his strength. You can’t get enough of it! The way he can toss your body and limbs around like a salad, rip your clothes off (which he has), and use you as he wants to is everything you want and need.

You love feeling his big body on top of you, feeling his weight pressing down onto your body while your feet dangle from his shoulders and his dick pummels into you.

You love feeling his big arms wrap around you, making you feel oh-so small yet safe, his bulging veins prominent underneath his skin. You can’t resist the urge to run your fingers up them every time he snakes them around you or to tell him to squeeze you more.

He often gets nervous when you tell him to do this, especially during sex, but he does it, squeezing you to your little heart’s content. “Is this okay?” He would ask, concerned. “I’m not hurting you?”

“No!” You’d squeak out, smiling contently and feeling like a boa constrictor was hugging you. “Harder please!”

But you especially love it when he flips you over without even asking (because he knows you want it) and drills your shit from behind. His big body mounts you and his calloused hands grip your hips as he drives his hips into you again and again and again.

Sometimes, he forces you into his favorite position (face down, ass up) and locks your legs in with his powerful thighs while pounding your pussy from behind, sending you reeling like you are now. He has now tossed you onto all fours, ass tooted up and face pressed into the bed. His hands dig into your hips and the flesh of your ass that you can tell you’ll have bruises tomorrow.

But you don’t care. You can’t care. Not when the sex is this fucking amazing. Not when your pussy is squelching and dripping and gushing and singing around his beautiful, thick, fat, veiny cock.

“You’re the only one I do this for,” he pants out, transfixed by the way your ass bounces against him and the way your pretty pussy takes him. “Only you can make me this fuckin’ insane.”

You want to tell him the same thing. That his big body and even bigger muscles make you absolutely unhinged. His ripping abs. His bulging biceps and pectorals. His thighs that look like they could crush watermelons and you. The way his size and height make you feel so small even when standing next to him or lying in your bed with him which he sometimes makes you feel is doll-sized.

He’s just so goddamn big!

But your tongue is too tied and your words a babbling mess to reply. But he don’t give a shit. One of his big hands move to grip your throat while the other smacks your ass, leaving it stinging. “Give me your fuckin’ words, baby,” he huffs. “C’mon, my dick isn’t leavin’ you that speechless, is it? Let me know how you feel.”

And so you say the only words on your mind as your orgasm quickly begins approaching: “I-I-I love you!” You sob, open-mouthed and bawling into the mattress.

He doesn’t answer immediately, but when he does, you can tell he’s smiling: “I love you too, baby. Now make that slutty pussy cum for me.”

And as usual, when you cum, you cum hard all around his dick. And when he finally cums for you, he pins you down underneath his body and fills you to the brim with all of him. “Take it,” he demands. “Fuckin’ take all of me, baby!”

You do. You don’t have a choice. He is right on top of you, forcing you to take all of his cum deep inside of your pussy. By the time he finishes, you are both exhausted and his nut drips down your inner thighs, creating a pool between them that stains the sheets beneath you.

With a sigh, your man gently pulls out of you and flops down beside you onto his back. You turn your head toward him and admire his toned body with muscles carved from steel and stone glistening in sweat and adorned in the afterglow of a good, rough fucking.

Noticing your eyes on him, he turns to you and smiles, love and all the affection all woman could want in his eyes. “Okay?” He asks.

You tilt your head up and press a small, loving kiss to his lips, exhausted, achy, and oh-so satisfied. “Okay,” you sigh.

Dedicated to: Zoro, Bakugou, Geto, Gojo, Grimmjow, Sukuna, Law, Shunsui, Shanks, Toji, Aizawa, Ichigo, Nico, Kirishima, Nanami, Worick, Fatgum, Draken, Choso & any other beautiful, big man I’m missing lol

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Tit For Tat

Santiago Pope Garcia x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 15: Against a Wall

Summary: You and Santi sneak off.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for saving my butt yet again and beating.

Warnings: oral sex (m!receiving), please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 460

Santi moans loudly, his head thrown back, his back pressed against the wall. His jeans are down by his thighs from where you tugged them, low and nearly at the knee. There’s the beginning hint of one of his surgery scars just peeking out at the edge of the material. 

His unbuckled belt taps rhythmically against the fly as you bob your head, sucking him as deep into your mouth as you can.

You jerk him in time with your mouth, caressing the inches you can swallow down while you lightly knead and squeeze his heavy balls. 

“Baby,” he groans, biting his lip as he bucks weakly into the heat of your mouth. “Please, I’m gonna…” He sucks in a deep breath as you moan lightly, the sound reverberating along his skin. 

He wants to hold off, wants to let you play with him as long as you wish, forever if you wanted. God, he would do anything you wanted. 

He knows he’s meant to be keeping vaguely quiet. The walls aren’t that thin and pretty much everyone is in the garden outside, but even so, he’s getting dangerously close to too loud. But he just can’t help himself, can’t gather together enough brain cells that haven't been overloaded by the feeling of your lips and tongue along his cock to care. 

His balls tighten, drawing up as his length pulses and grows impossibly harder. 

“Gonna come…” He whines, his breath catching in his throat. 

He’s not used to this, not used to being given things so completely. Not used to being the one that’s pressed against surfaces and pampered with pleasure. 

Not used to someone not expecting anything in return. 

But, oh boy, how he was going to return it. 

He was going to get you down completely flat on your back on the floor with his head between your legs and make you come and come and come and-

He cries out softly, bucks weakly as his orgasm floods his veins and he spurts hot, thick cum into your eager mouth. 

You moan around him, swallowing eagerly as he shivers and shakes. Only pulling back as he sighs and slumps forward ever so slightly. 

You’re grinning up at him when he looks at you. 

“You trying to let everyone know you’re getting your dick sucked?” You tease and he scoffs, grinning.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, still breathing deeply. “Was I that bad?” 

You shake your head. “There’s still some plausible deniability.” 

He snorts, slowly sinking down onto the floor next to you. His heart warms when you reach out to help him. “Yeah, well, there won’t be.” 

“What?”  He grabs you, making you chuckle as he pulls you into a searing kiss. “‘Cause I’m about to make you scream.”

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes ho

@steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood 

@pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

 @maplemind  @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist @dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious

@homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop @oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus 

@mandytrekkie @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 @pigeonmama @marcsb1tch 

@iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan @faretheeoscar@lonelyisamyw-0love 

@queerponc @twwcs @Spnwhore2430 @mari-thesimp @ominoose

@ierofrnkk @have-you-seen-my-sanity @klillah @mystic-writings

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

vampire!Nanami is sick with guilt. self-loathing sits on his shoulders like a cloak, drags behind him in a velvet weight. he replays the moment of his turning obsessively, wracks his brain for ways he could have won the fight, preserved his soul.

vampire!Nanami waits for as long as he possibly can before feeding for the first time, until his pale skin is stretched over cheekbones sharpened in un-death, his limbs wasted and trembling in weakness.

vampire!Nanami finds an animal, some poor half-gone creature crushed by a careless car, but the blood turns his stomach. he knows it isn't what he needs, but he has to try. the evidence of that naiveté stains his lips crimson, splashes into the road when he heaves it up on his knees.

vampire!Nanami paces outside your house, his heightened senses tortured by every sound of you shifting in your sheets. he can smell the night-sweat behind your knees, the sweetness of your sleeping breath, and he prays to the gods that damned him that you find peace without him.

vampire!Nanami stands silent vigil there for hours, only shocked out of dark thoughts by the sudden sound of your crying, amplified as if you were right beside him in the midnight gloom. the sound breaks his heart, but it's nothing compared to the way he shatters when he hears you whisper his name brokenly.

vampire!Nanami can't ignore the way your heartbreak calls out to him, can't convince himself that you'll forget him and move on, not when you're crying for him, alone there in the dark.

vampire!Nanami hates himself for the speed with which he's on your doorstep, knocking with the surety that you'll invite him in. and you do, the conditions fulfilled by your open arms when you find him on the threshold.

vampire!Nanami tries to keep his distance, clenches his jaw to hide the shocking sharpness of his canines, the way his pulse thrums with need at the nearness of your warm-blooded body. he should have known that you would throw yourself into his icy arms, press your searing lips to the marble column of his neck.

"Please, my love. Please don't," he whispers, the words jagged and misshapen in his mouth. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Kento, you could never hurt me." He moans. Of course you'd say that, believe that. Stupid, wonderful fool.

vampire!Nanami weeps when you trace your fingertips over his face, shrinks from the terrible understanding in your eyes when you place your palm over the empty, silent place where his heart should be.

vampire!Nanami waits for you to recoil, to scream or swear or curse him- is lost when you do none of those things, too stunned to resist when you take his hand and pull him into your bedroom.

vampire!Nanami is helpless in the face of the instinctual hunger that burns him up when you slide your nightgown off your shoulders, turning in the moonlight to offer him the smooth curve of your neck.

vampire!Nanami thinks he's dreaming when you draw his golden head to your bosom, press his frozen lips against your pulse point. you kiss his temple, grant him permission, forgiveness, a blessing there in the dark.

vampire!Nanami drinks from you, dizzy at the first drop of blood as he breaks your skin. the heat of it is almost painful, thick and sweet and devastating. he can't help the sounds that tear from his throat, grunting, slurping, animal noises of sated hunger.

vampire!Nanami whimpers as you fill his mouth, crimson trickling down his chin as he gorges on the life of you. you hold him there, shaky fingers firm in his hair as he tries to pull away, as the part of him that loves you fights the monstrous thirst.

vampire!Nanami feels your grip weaken and somehow tears himself away from your ravaged neck, horror overlaying the primal satisfaction that sings through his veins. his strength is returning, spots of color flaring in his gaunt cheeks as he scrambles back. his bright eyes lock on the faint rise and fall of your chest- you're alive, barely, and the prayer of thanks that rises to his bloodstained lips tastes like ash.

[ddollfface]

Hello, first of all I really appreciate your blog. I love to read your story's, they are incredible C:

Secondly, I wanted to take a request for a yandere baki? Like, he falls for a classmate who is really shy and insecure but she secretly trains to become more confident and stronger? Maybe Baki wants to help her (or not depends on how you think yandere baki would be) and also protect her?

Sorry if my request is a little bit confusing ^^" If it's too random for you, you can just write general yandere baki headcanons :") I hope you have a nice day and thank you in advance :D<3

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚!𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙞 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Trigger Warnings; Bad writing, she/her pronouns, possessive thoughts, not really yandere, reader is depicted as really socially awkward and clumsy, uhhh Kozue doesn't exist in this universe ig (I'm sorry bbg) It's no problem, nonny! I love it when ya'll give me random scenarios lol. Though I write really slowly, so sorry that it's been so long... Enjoy and give me any feedback! I'm still trying to tweak Baki's character profile!

“C’mon, do one more. You got this,” 

You panted, stretching your muscles to the extent you could, bringing your chin above the bar, trying to focus on the searing stretch in your muscles, and using it to motivate you as you lifted yourself up once more. Your thighs were clenched, trying to fight gravity, and get twenty pull-ups, surprising yourself when your head gets above the bar. 

Seventeen… that’s Baki’s age, you think with a small smile gracing your face as you go for another one, only to whine, wincing as your arms refuse to move. Just as you’re about to drop, you feel your classmate, who you’re too nervous to call a friend, hands grab your waist, helping you down from the pull-up bar. His hands cupped your waist, practically carrying your weight in his hands, catching you off-guard.

“I-thank you, Baki,” You mumbled, glancing over your shoulder as he set you on the ground, and smiling. A warm feeling fluttered in your chest, feeling accomplished at how many pull-ups you did. Only just a month ago, you couldn’t even hang from the bar without getting sore, but with Baki’s help, you’ve improved so much! It makes you giddy as you think of your progress, of how far you’ve come, and how much stronger you’ll be in the future. It gives you a surge of confidence whenever you find yourself exerting some of your newfound strength, beginning to love yourself a little more. 

“No problemo,” Baki shrugs, trying to remain lax, ignoring the throbbing of his heart. He got to touch you, place his hands on your waist, and carry your weight. God, you’re so pretty, even when you’re all sweaty. He felt like a lovesick schoolboy (he is). Your presence feels like a punch to the gut, giving him a newfound energy, the same feeling he chases when he fights. His heart pumping blood throughout his body, forcing it through his veins as his brain races with thoughts, thoughts, and more thoughts. He can almost feel his hands shake, practically begging his conscience for a chance to grab, hold, and smother you with affection, to pepper kisses all over your face, and praise your body in a way you deserve. 

He can’t even describe the surge of joy he got when you asked him for help, looking at him… well you didn’t look at him, preferring the ground’s gaze whenever you talk to him, but that didn’t matter too much. Your words were far more important. The moment your soft voice shyly asked for him to train you, to help you out because you wanted to be better, to be more confident. 

And while Baki loved you for who you were and the way you were he understood. He understood wanting to be better, to strive for more and more until your nails have gone raw and bloody, unable to claw away. He understands the feeling of not being where you want to be, of not being stronger, or accomplishing more. 

Though you both have different reasons for training, he understands the core values of it. You’re training to help build confidence and find value in yourself, while Baki does it because it’s a staple in his life, the only consistent pillar throughout his short years. But you both share the determination and though you likely will never be as strong as him, which is completely okay and likely how he’d prefer it, he admires how you had the confidence to approach him, asking him for help with something so personal.

Of course, he said yes. What kind of man would he be if he denied you help? Especially when you asked so sweetly? He still remembers how his cheeks grew warm and how he could hear his heart thud against his ribs at the idea of watching you work out. And though, Baki will never admit to it… you’re just so pretty, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. You’re so soft, so kind, and just so cute. There’s no way he can’t gawk, respectfully, whenever he sees you squat, or how you smile whenever you complete a set, looking at him with amazement. Sometimes you’ll even hug him! And, honestly, he could die a happy man!

He tries his hardest, never wanting to make you uncomfortable, keeping your best interests in mind, and that’s why he absolutely refuses to let you work out in public. Nope, nope, nope, that’s not going to happen. Sure, you two can go on a run together, but he makes sure to give you one of his athletic zip-ups, not wanting guys to gawk at you, knowing that they will. 

It doesn’t matter that you’re only sixteen, he knows how men think, how they reduce you to your body. You’re so much more than that, and that’s why his blood boiled when he saw a guy let his eyes trail across your body as you did some push-ups. Yeah, no, you’re never going to a public gym again, that was the first and last time he’d ever let you do that. 

And if you were to ask, he’ll just say that you can’t even imagine the amount of sweat and bacteria on those machines. Can’t you imagine how many sweaty, grubby hands have touched those dumbbells? Or how many people have sat on that bench? Yeah, you can’t give him a number, and after that, you refused to touch your face without washing your hands and wiping away any grime from your face with a wet wipe, even upping your skincare a little.

Don’t get it wrong, you’re not a germaphobe or anything, but you had to agree with Baki, though you weren’t going to challenge him either way. You had noticed the gleam in his eyes as he pulled you up and off the floor, stopping you in the middle of your rep. Of course, you pouted a little, seeing as you were about to do ten push-ups! But you didn’t say anything, not wanting to stir any trouble, so you just kept your head down as Baki said you guys were going to end early. 

You didn’t want to, but you trusted Baki, and you weren’t going to say no when he looked so sure of himself. You hadn’t noticed the way his eyes seemingly darkened when he walked behind you, noticing how your leggings hugged you too tightly, nor did you seem to care when he handed you a jacket, saying you looked a little cold. If anything, you thought it was extremely sweet, and it made your cheeks grow warm, and your stomach does flips. 

“Well, it’s getting pretty late; you want me to take you home?” Baki’s voice draws you out of your little trip down memory lane, causing you to look up from your hands, which you were probably staring at for an embarrassing amount of time. With a small smile, you nod your head, turning to face Baki, and wiping some sweat from your brow. 

“Um, sure! That sounds like a plan-” You cut yourself off with an awkward chuckle, internally cursing yourself for being such a dork. I mean, what could Baki, probably the strongest man in the world, be thinking of you? He probably thinks you're super duper weird and that you sweat too much, oh God. What if you smell! 

Slowly losing yourself in your thoughts, Baki quirked a brow, noticing that you seemingly were spacing out, so, like any normal person who definitely hasn’t been daydreaming about his moment since he first met you, he placed his hand on your shoulder and tilts his head, “*Hey, are you good? You’re not lightheaded or anything, right? That wouldn’t be too good, yeah?*”

Baki had a small, reassuring smile on his lips, and the small mole on his upper lip stretched slightly, catching your attention. Feeling your cheeks heat up, your brain went into override, becoming overwhelmed with how close Baki was. You could see all the pores in his skin, and you could feel him too. His palm was oddly warm, maybe a little sweaty, but that was probably just you… ew. His hand cupped your shoulder, thumb drumming against your colder skin softly as he awaited your response, but you just looked at him with parted lips, eyes wide, and mind blank. 

You definitely looked like an idiot, you were sure of it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, feeling a little awestruck. Let’s just say that conversations have really never been your thing, especially when they’re cute guys without a shirt. Trying your best, you succeeded in keeping your eyes locked on his face, not letting them linger and drift down to his neck, where his SCM muscle flowed down to his clavicle and mended with the infrahyoid muscle group, only for his trapezius muscle to lay over his shoulder blade and peak from his back. His pectoralis majors were bulging against his sternum, making him seem more like a bodybuilder than a normal, teenage boy, not even to mention his serratus anterior, which was clearly defined and wrapped around his sides-

“Geez, man, you’re such a creep, staring at my muscles,” Baki chuckled, hiding how giddy he felt with your eyes on him, him, him.  His hand moved from your shoulder to your head, ruffling your hair with a cheeky grin as he tilted his head teasingly, “Is that a little drool I see there?” The hand on your head moved to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip, as if there were really drool (there wasn’t, he just wanted to make you flustered). His calloused fingers teased your cheek, almost covering your whole face, and you thought you might just die. 

“Pphha-Oh, my God! I’m so, so sorry, Baki! That was so weird-” You fumbled over yourself, practically jumping away from his hand with a warm face. Your lips were trembling slightly, your nerves dripping through your veins as you cracked your knuckles, unsure of what to do with yourself as you felt your blood turn into molten lava. Standing with your arms straight and hands by your side, you quickly maneuvered to get your stuff, quickly remembering what the conversation was. Slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder, your legs were unstable as you steadied yourself and glanced around Baki’s home, not wanting to come anywhere near his gaze. 

“Well, anyways-I, um… I think I should go, um, home.” I spoke unceremoniously, ending your words with an out-of-place cough, only fueling Baki’s amusement as he looked you up and down. You were just so cute. He could just eat you up. His syrupy brown eyes swirled with amusement, taking in your nervous form. He really is obsessed, isn’t he?

He can’t get enough of your flustered smile, the way your lips quirk and tremble as you let meaningless words slip from your lips. Your eyes always got so scattered, flickering across whatever room, just to avoid his gaze. Although he’d love for you to get more comfortable, to just relax around him, he does enjoy these moments where you slur your speech and wave your hands around; it’s comforting in a sense. Deciding not to push any further, knowing your heart would probably thump out of your chest, he shrugs his shoulders and gives your bicep a small tap, “Sure thing, I’ll let you off this time.”

His voice was soft and playful as to coax you out of being so nervous. You just smile stiffly, feeling your heart thump, thump, thump, going crazy in your ribcage as you try to cool your tense figure, to slow the blood flooding in your ears. Giving him a nervous, wonky smile, you shrug your bag further up your shoulders, needing to do anything to distract you from the situation at hand. Baki was just so cool, and everything about him was amazing, but you were just… you. For God’s sake! Baki is probably the strongest man in the world, for all you know! And he’s training you of all people? He must be an angel or something… 

That’s what you think. You don’t know the gleam that flickers through his eyes whenever you turn away, the pure, utterless obsession that flows through his veins. Though Baki wouldn’t consider himself to be a jealous man, by any means, he can’t help but worry about you. You also don’t know the amount of men he’s dealt with through the school year; the amount of people he’s had to… steer away from you, just to keep you safe. But that’s good. You don’t need to know, ever. 

And you still don’t know as you walk side-by-side through the residential neighborhood, Baki holding your bag, of course. He always insists that he helps you out, seeing as you must be oh so tired from your workout, so just let him help you out, yeah?

To you, it was a smooth night, although a little awkward and embarrassing, it was nice. There was a soft breeze, so it was pleasing on the back of your neck, and you could feel your hair tussle and flow. Humming under your breath, you glance around the neighborhood you know like the back of your hand, and observe the different houses. Many were more 1970s-stylized architecture, but it was pretty nonetheless. They all had dark, wooden frames and sloped roofs, guarded by flimsy, wooden fences. With your eyes locked onto your surroundings, you lost track of how long you’d been walking until Baki suddenly stopped, nudging you for your attention. 

“Oh, thanks for walking me home, Baki…” You chuckle, catching yourself before you could make you look like more of an airhead. Scratching your cheek, you turned your back, standing in front of the gate that led to your small home, where your parents were probably snooping out the window to see what cute boy had brought you home…

“Nah, we’re chillin’. I just want to make sure you’re safe, you know how it is.” He shrugged, giving you a small, endearing smile before shoving his hands into his jean pockets, glancing at the ground before looking back at you. Giggling sheepishly, you messed with the hem of your shirt, before clearing your throat and straightening your posture. The air was oddly relaxing, though still a little stiff.

“Yeah, but you really didn’t need to, especially since you’re carrying my bag, too!” You sighed dramatically, pursing your lips slightly as you tried to make the mood a little lighter, more for yourself than Baki. He chuckled, rolling his eyes a little with some sass, handing you your bag as you motioned for it. 

“Geez, what d’ya think of me? I’d be a pretty shitty friend if I let you walk out here by yourself.” Baki flicked your forehead with a quirked brow, continuing, “But really don’t mention it. You’re like my best friend, practically my responsibility.” He added with a nonchalant grin. 

Nodding your head with a smile, trying to ignore the growing warmth on the back of your neck. God, talking to Baki was so easy, even if you fumbled your words an embarrassing amount of times, and you couldn’t help but feel your brain speed up, racing a million miles per hour. Subconsciously, your eyes kept lingering, down, down, down toward his lips, watching them move as he spoke. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, there was a tug on your heart, feeling a pull toward Baki, and he felt it, too. 

Just do it. Just do it. Just do it. Oh, c’mon! Just do it! You hyped yourself up, adjusting your duffle bag on your shoulder as I leaned your weight onto one foot to another, slightly nudging yourself closer to Baki. Your heart was pounding, ringing in your ears as you kept your eyes nervously locked on his face. Baki had continued talking, rambling off about some fight he had recently. Of course, you loved hearing Baki talk, but you couldn’t think straight, hyper-fixating on this inner turmoil that took over your thoughts. Though Baki had noticed your fidgeting and shift in behavior, he brushed it off as you just being antsy to go to sleep. Wait; why are you so close?

And just like that your lips brushed against his cheek, only there for half a second that Baki thought that he had imagined it. A slip of electricity had shot through both of you, a lingering warmth on his cheek as Baki stared at you with wide eyes. You just kissed him! Baki’s brain went into overload, standing there with his lips parted like a fish. Of course, your face had blossomed with an overwhelming amount of warmth, so hot that even Baki could feel it radiate off of you. Without a second thought, you rushed into your home, though not without running into the half-opened gate and tripping up the steps. 

Baki hadn’t even noticed your clumsy movements, far too focused on the warmth that swelled under his skin, a feeling he wasn’t used to. The tips of his fingers were pulsing, feeling static as he urged himself to do something, but his mind was caught up on what he felt. Everything was upside down, his world spinning, and the rhythm of his heart kept him in a jumble. It felt like his brain was empty but swirling with more thoughts than it should. Your lips felt oh so soft, and he couldn’t forget; he didn’t want to forget. 

“You’re just too much.” He mumbled under his breath, a newfound determination blossomed in his heart, and a lovesick gleam in his brown eyes. You just confirmed everything he’s ever wanted and dreamed of; you were his. You want to be his. That just means that you don’t need them either, all you need is him, and he’s sure you wouldn’t mind just staying at his place, right? You’re practically dating now, and it’s only right that you live together; that’s what couples do, right? 

As he walked away, steps a little off-center, a plan formed in his head, obsessive delusions fueling it. With just one, small kiss, you had decided your fate. No longer could you get off as just being his “best friend”, no. You were his lover now, his future wife. Though you didn’t seem to fully grasp that, Baki’s glad to give a helping hand.

[slamminslamminmcgill]

mm finally watched deadpool and wolverine today, and my god... 🥵 so many thoughts...

Idek which ones to put here. What do you think a p*ss kink would look like with both of them? Or just more of them making reader squirt their brains out.

The dialogue you write between them sounds so natural. Like I can literally read it in their voice. -🐮

LFGGGG thank y’all for giving me an excuse to talk abt this 🙏 i got more ideas but this post would’ve been WAYYYY too long sooo be on the lookout for more debauchery

warning: piss, anal, dp, dubcon, light degradation/humiliation, intox (alcohol for logan)

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

as with most of the fucked up kinks y'all try in this polycule, it happens spontaneously the first time.

logan had just finished inside your ass, and out of the three of you, it takes him the longest to cum. it also takes a lot out of him. he roars and jams his claws through wade's temples (whoopsie! that's why your bed has red vinyl sheets hehe) so there's a dramatic break in the action afterwards.

"ah... hah... ngh, fuck..." he's panting, heaving almost, and slides out of your now gaping hole, "fuck, that was good..." he retracts his claws from wade’s skull, then purrs in your ear and smooches your neck, "good job, kid."

wade, still hard as steel in your cunt, claps excitedly for him. "yay! good job, YOU, peanut! UGH, i love watching you fill him up. you get so... beastly~."

you giggle, nuzzling into wade's tits, feeling goofy and content. a warm load up one hole, and a thick cock up the other.

logan smiles, kissing you on the back of your head this time. “you gonna be okay alone with him for a sec? i gotta go piss.”

"mhm!"

"'kay. i'll be right back, pumpkin." another kiss to your neck, and he's off, walking flaccidly to the bathroom, shaking his fuzzy cheeks.

you drop your head back down against wade’s chest and sigh, "i gotta piss too, actually."

"oh, yeah, yes you do, mister!" deadpool pats you on your shoulders, "always make sure to pee before, during, and after sex!"

you absentmindedly chuckle, until you realize what it is he just said, “wait… during?!"

"hey! thou shalt not knock what thou hast not tried!i know it sounds icky, but hear me out."

he thrusts upwards into you sharply

“fuck!!!”

“so! i want you to imagine…” *THRUST* “how good it’d feel…” *THRUST* “to be really filled up.” *THRUST* “and i mean FULL!” *THRUST* “like your pussy is a searing hot water balloon about to explode. and then when it does?” *THRUST* “when it all comes flooding out of you? oh darling, the relief…” he moans dramatically, gripping your hips and shifting you back and forth on his shaft, “hottest thing you’ll ever experience, i swear. there’s nothing else like it… wanna try it?”

you’re skeptical, but wade wilson is a hell of a salesman. “…fuck it. let’s do it.”

“yippee!!! okay, just gotta get soft so i can piss. dead kittens… calculus homework… grandma deadpool! there we go! okay… phew… here goes…”

it’s a tense, awkward silence as he starts. you’re not sure what to expect. then, you begin to feel it. that searing heat swelling inside you, pooling between his cock and your skin, flooding what little space there was inside you. you gasp, and attempt to squirm to cope with the sensation, but wade holds you still.

“don’t move! don’t move, my little urinal boy! mmm, i gotcha, just… just trust me on this… i’m almost done…”

“you two are fucking disgusting.”

logan’s voice coming out of nowhere makes you jump, and then wade’s piss spills out of you. and just like he told you, it feels fucking incredible. you’re twitching, spasming, moaning pure nonsense as wade fucks your drenched, desecrated cunt. loud splashing accompanies the brutal pace of his hips.

“your loss, peanut! imagine wasting your piss on the bathroom toilet when you could’ve given it to this even cuter toilet!” he pecks you on the cheek with a loud “mwah~!”

from then on, it becomes you and wade peeing on each other just to mess with him. since he’s never told y’all to stop, you both figure that he likes it, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it.

the three of y’all are showering together

“so, just asking as a throuple here, are we all pro- or anti-peeing in the shower?”

“if you get piss on me, i’ll stick my claws through your fucking corneas.”

“promise?!”

”don’t. you fucking. dare.”

“aw, boo, you’re no fun.” wade pouts, then grabs you by your wet hair and pulls your ear towards his lips. “you, though… you’re TONS of fun.” he playfully bites your ear, and then your neck. “so fun, in fact, that you’re gonna get on your knees and drink every drop of piss that i give you, right?”

i feel like the only time y’all can get logan to participate is while he’s drunk. he’s too sloshed to feel shame for it.

maybe y’all are in bed together, all cuddled up in a tangled mess of limbs, and he grumbles something about needing to take a leak.

“oh, don’t worry about getting up, honey-bun!” wade fishes under the blankets for logan’s soft cock, “lemme take care of that for you.”

“wh… the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“ugh please, don’t act like you haven’t thought about pissing down my throat. can’t i just once do something nice for you?”

he grumbles, not wanting to indulge wade, but not wanting to get up even more.“fine. whatever. i hope you choke on it.”

“oh, i will.”

[melancholyhigh]

WORK HOURS.

ft. re2!rookie!leon x lieutenant!reader

synopsis. you were supposed to help leon out on his first time on the job. instead, you’re helping him out in a different way.

content. smut. 1.2k words. car sex, cowgirl, unprotected p in v, dry humping, sub leon, marking, they’re both so desperate for each other, creampie, pet names, praise kink, virginity loss.

note. man, fuck tumblr. i accidentally posted the unfinished draft n didn't realise :( anyways, i hope you guys like it <3

check out my other works. comments & reblogs are appreciated !!

it was leon’s first week on the job, and you were assigned to show him around since he wasn’t well acquainted with raccoon city. boss thought it would be a great idea to take him on patrol to get him adjusted to the area. 

you were excited that a new recruit was joining. it didn’t happen too often, and you knew it was difficult being a rookie — you were in the same position when you had originally joined the RPD. so when you meet him, you plan on being a great lieutenant and helping him where necessary.

your first impression of leon was that he was sweet and a bit naive. he was also rather gorgeous. God certainly had favourites. you couldn’t help but stare at him, and he noticed. a pink blush blooming on his cheeks when he caught you gazing at him. the flushed look made him even more captivating as you secretly wished that the blush on his face would be for different reasons. 

you felt guilty for having such thoughts about him. you are his boss, for Christ’s sake. you have to assist him with his duties, not get in his pants. 

but how could you not think about him like that? the way he got flustered when your hands brushed up against his or the shy glances he took of you throughout the day as you showed him the workings of the place.

this constant build-up of teasing had been why the fine line between being work professional and fucking the shit out of him had been blurred. leaving you in the predicament you are in right now.

the glass windows are foggy as you and leon sloppily make out in the reclined passenger seat of the police car. you’re hovering over him, legs on either side of his thighs. your pants are off and somewhere near the driver’s seat. you’re too preoccupied with the soft whines that leave leon’s parted lips as you place opened-mouth kisses down the column of his throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. 

this isn’t what you had planned for the night. you and leon should've been patrolling the streets, searching for criminals, not dry-humping in a car in some shitty parking lot. 

but, fuck, the whimpers that he makes when he eagerly grips your hips with his big, soft hands and guides your clothed pussy against the bulge of his uniform pants have you overlooking your responsibilities for the rest of the night. 

“feel so good,” he groans quietly into your ear as you continue sucking marks on his neck. you pull back to admire your work. his lips, swollen from your passionate kissing, the buttons of his cotton shirt undone, exposing the expanse of his chest littered with reddish-purple marks. you want the sight seared into your brain.

he peers up through his eyelashes, eyes all glossy, and his face flushed with that same fucking blush you adore. he’s bucking his hips up to yours, pants stained with your arousal, leaking through your underwear and his arms circle your waist. 

“shit, i wanna feel you inside of me, honey,” you say breathlessly and leon nearly comes in his pants at the thought of feeling your cunt squeezing him tight. 

you’re leaning against the dashboard, clumsily unbuckling his belt before half haphazardly throwing it to the side. unzipping leon’s pants, you pull his cock out of his boxers. it’s flushed and red, especially at the tip, which leaked with precum. everything about him was pretty. 

you grasp his shaft, slowly stroking him. his face nuzzled against the crook of your neck. your warm hands moving up and down his rigid cock provided enough friction for him to make a mess all over your palms. you realised he was holding out for you, smiling you kissed the top of his head.

“you’re such a good boy, leon,” you said softly. 

at your words, you felt his hips jerk up into your hands. moans escaped his lips as he bit into your neck trying to contain them.

he whimpers your name, panting into the crook of your neck.

“need you so bad,” he sobs, tears swimming in his beautiful blue eyes. his cock pulsing and neglected when you pull your hands away from him. 

“fuck, okay, sweetheart,” you muttered. leon leans back into the reclined seat, his hands on your hips. his chest moving up and down with every breath he takes.

you push your damp panties to the side, exposing your dripping cunt, you grind onto leon’s cock, groaning when the bulbous head of his cock nicks your sensitive clit. leon gasps at the feeling of your warm, bare pussy up against him. he wouldn’t last that long inside of you.

his cock finally enters your cunt. barely the tip is in, and you both groan in unison. your nails dig into his shoulders for support as you continue to sink down into him. 

you feel each vein and ridge of his cock when he bottomed out in you. you moaned loudly. you were filled to the brim with him. 

leon’s chest heaves as he feels your warm, gummy walls swallow his cock. he wanted so badly to fuck into you, but he wanted to be good. 

“you’re amazing, sweetheart.” you huff out. “‘m gonna start moving, ‘kay?” 

he acknowledges your words by squeezing your hips, unable to trust his voice. 

you start bouncing on his cock, and all he manages are choked whines and whimpers that leave his pink, lips. he starts bucking his hips up to you, and you’re moaning when he reaches the spots you thought were imaginable. 

the obscene squelching sounds of your drenched cunt being pounded into by leon fills the car alongside his and your desperate moans. it’s insane how wet he makes you. 

“you hear that, baby? that’s how good you’re making me feel,” you say with a shaky voice. 

your words make his tummy tense. he holds you closer, his hips stuttering before he gets into a rhythm again. he’s close to coming. 

“‘m close,” he whimpers, and your pussy tightens around him at the sound of his broken voice.

his bangs are sticking to his forehead from the sweat that accumulated. he looks even more beautiful fucked out like this.

“come with me, baby,” you breathed. you brought one of your hands to your clit, rubbing tight circles. 

nearing your orgasm, you press your lips to his, pushing your tongue into his mouth. the intimate moment has both of you coming. 

leon’s legs are shaking as he comes inside your pussy. he moans into your mouth, feeling your cunt spasming around his cock when you climax. his hips came to a halt, and you feel his sticky cum ooze out of your sensitive pussy. 

you’re both breathless, and he’s still holding onto you like his life depends on it.

“you did so well, leon,” you mumble, moving the bangs from his forehead, giving him a kiss. leon heart skips a beat. you treat him so good.