#he loves it when you push at his chest and furrow your brows but then keep sitting on his lapahsgdhsahgdhgas

[flwrstqr]

✶ KISS ME : WHEN YOU'RE CLINGY. ╰——𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂'𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎

𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⦂ bf!enhypen x f!r 1OOOwc. ── est relationship, skinship, petnames, kisses, fluff ｡｡ ⠀fluff ✦ 𝓒ATALOGUE ♡ ◞

 DANi : i felt a bit sappy TT,, love you flurries

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung would catch on immediately, a playful grin tugging at his lips as you cling to his arm, refusing to let go. "oh, you want me," he teases, leaning in closer, his voice dripping with amusement. you roll your eyes, face heating up despite your best efforts to stay composed. "shut up," you mumble, but your grip on him only tightens. “it’s okay, baby, you can admit it. i’m irresistible, huh?” he winks, pulling you even closer until you’re practically tucked into his side. "heeseung, i swear—" you start, but he cuts you off, resting his chin on your head. "shhh, just keep holding onto me. i like it when you’re clingy."

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 jay looks up from his phone when you walk over, lips slightly pouted and arms crossed. without missing a beat, he pulls out his wallet and holds out his card. "what is it this time? shoes? that bag you were eyeing?" he asks, so matter-of-factly it almost makes you laugh. you furrow your eyebrows, swatting the card away as you climb onto the couch beside him. "i don’t want your card, jay," you mumble, leaning closer, your head resting against his shoulder. his brows knit together in confusion for a split second before realization dawns on him. "oh," he breathes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "you just want kisses." you nod, cheeks burning, and before you can say anything else, he’s cradling your face, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and lips. "you could’ve just said that, princess," he whispers

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 before you can even knock, the door swings open, and there’s jake, grinning like he’s been waiting for you all day. “i knew it,” he says, tugging you inside before you can even get a word out. “you missed me.” you blink up at him, startled but not surprised—he always seems to know when you’re craving his attention. “shut up,” you mumble, already wrapping your arms around his waist. he laughs, as his hands find your back, pulling you impossibly closer. “don’t act like you’re not the clingy one,” you shoot back, but he only nuzzles into your hair, completely unbothered. “yeah, but you love it,” he murmurs, tilting his head to press a soft kiss to your temple. it’s almost unfair how in sync you are, like he’s reading your mind. 

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon freezes the moment you latch onto him, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, face buried in his chest. he stands there, completely still, trying to process what’s happening. “uh… are you okay?” he finally manages, voice a little stiff, but you don’t answer—your hold on him just tightens. his heart skips a beat, and after a solid two minutes of being a human statue, he finally relaxes, his hands awkwardly but gently settling on your back. “oh,” he mutters, his voice softer now, realizing you just want to be close to him. then, without warning, he leans down and presses a hesitant but sweet kiss to the top of your head. “you could’ve just told me,” he murmurs, his lips now finding their way to your cheek, then your lips. “i’m not complaining, though,” he adds

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 sunoo immediately starts whining the moment you latch onto him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you start peppering his face with kisses. “yah, stop! you’re so clingy today!” he complains, voice high-pitched and dramatic, though he’s not exactly pushing you away. instead, he’s pouting, his cheeks flushed pink as you giggle and keep going. “ugh, you’re so annoying,” he mumbles, scrunching his nose when you kiss the tip of it, but the way his lips twitch into a small smile gives him away. “you secretly love it,” you tease, and his pout deepens as he huffs, crossing his arms. “i do not!” he argues, but when you pause for a second, he peeks at you, eyes soft. “why’d you stop?” he finally mutters, barely above a whisper, and you laugh, pulling him closer again. “that’s what i thought,” you say, and this time, he doesn’t even pretend to protest.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 jungwon doesn’t even flinch when you cling onto him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you press kiss after kiss to his cheek. he just continues scrolling on his phone, completely unbothered, like you aren’t practically glued to his side. “baby,” you whine, pouting up at him when he doesn’t react. he hums absentmindedly, eyes still on the screen, and you tug at his shirt in protest. “jungwon!” at that, he finally glances down, his gaze softening immediately when he sees your pout. “what was it, pretty girl, hm?” he coos, setting his phone aside and tilting his head at you, a small smirk forming. “you’ve been all over me, you know.” you huff, burying your face into his chest. “you don’t even care,” you mumble, and he chuckles, his arms wrapping around you at last. “of course i care. come here, clingy,” he teases, pressing a kiss to your temple.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 riki’s grin stretches wide the moment you drape yourself over him, your arms looped lazily around his neck. “oh, so you’re clingy today?” he teases, tilting his head back dramatically as if overwhelmed by your attention. “what happened? can’t survive five minutes without me?” his hands betray him, though, instinctively resting on your waist like they’ve found their home. when you nuzzle into his neck, he lets out an exaggerated sigh, but his ears are tinged pink. “what, you just can’t resist me? say it, say riki’s the best boyfriend in the whole—” “shut up,” you groan, smacking his arm lightly. the way his fingers trace little circles on your hip gives him away. he’s the one bad down—completely gone for you.

[missarchive]

No thought, head empty. Just daydreaming about coming home after a long day and getting face-down ass-up railed by Spencer because he knows you’re at your happiest getting your guts rearranged and your brain turned to mush.

*Sigh* this is what reading American Jesus does to a mofo… Think you straight up altered my brain chemistry with that one. If you wrote something for my little daydream I might actually pass away.

🙏 i will forever write spencer as a pleasure dom, that man would do anything to make sure you feel good, and he's so good at knowing what you need, when you need it.

i hope this satiates your little fantasy <3 thank you for the love on american jesus.

cw; +18 minors dni, fingering, pleasure dom!spencer, eating it from the back, taking it from the back, semi-rough spencer, unprotected p in v, aftercare

You’re exhausted. You drag yourself home after what feels like an eternity since you last saw the sun, the weight of your bag pulling on your shoulder as you slump against the wall and wait for the elevator.

It takes forever to arrive. You stare at the numbers as they flicker up the board and sigh. It’s not that you’ve never felt this tired before, but tonight it’s more than your body feels tired, it’s your mind.

You step into the elevator when the doors finally slide open and lean against the back wall. You let your eyes fall closed for a moment, letting out a soft sigh when you feel the cool air on your face, your skin. Your hand goes to the knot on your tie and you yank it loose, pulling it from around your neck and stuffing it in your pocket.

The elevator jolts to a stop and you step out into the corridor, running a hand through your hair when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror at the end of the hall. You look tired. Your eyes are sunken, the bags underneath making your eyes look darker and bigger.

You start down the hall, coming to a stop outside your door. You’re distracted, staring at the floor as you fumble with your keys and you don’t notice when the door opens, not until Spencer steps out and you nearly run into him.

“Hey, baby,” he says. “Long day?”

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. You melt against him, sighing happily when you feel his hand slide up to cradle the back of your neck. His grip tightens a little when you moan into his kiss, tilting your head and pressing closer to him.

He pulls away for a moment, studying you. You smile weakly up at him and he frowns. “Did you eat?” he asks, his brow furrowed. “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah,” you say, running your hands up his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck. “I ate at the office.”

He eyes you for a moment, and you know he doesn’t believe you. But he doesn’t press the issue. You’re so tired that you don’t even care when his hands move from your waist to grip your ass. “Bed, then,” he says.

He tugs you forward, kissing you again as he steps into the apartment. You follow him, letting him guide you through the apartment and into the bedroom. He pulls you close to him, kissing your neck as you reach for your shirt.

You shiver, letting out a low moan when he bites at your skin. You press your hands flat against his chest, shoving him back against the bed. He grins up at you as you strip your shirt off and then his, kicking your shoes off as he does the same.

“Take the rest off,” he murmurs, tugging on your belt as he reaches for his own.

You unbuckle it and push your pants down to your thighs, stopping when Spencer grips your hips and turns you to face away from him. His fingers press into your skin, sliding down over the curve of your ass and slipping between your legs.

He presses a kiss to the small of your back, his breath hot against your skin as he lets out a soft groan. “I love you so much,” he murmurs against your skin. “You have no idea.”

You shiver, letting your head fall forward. “I love you, too,” you whisper.

He laughs. “I know,” he says, nipping at your hip. “I know you do.”

He pushes you forward and you go easily, your hands coming to rest on the bed as he pulls your pants the rest of the way off. He runs his hand over your ass, then slips between your legs again, spreading you open with his fingers.

“Spencer,” you murmur, rocking back against him.

His tongue is hot and wet on your skin when he drags it up your inner thigh, nipping at you and making you squirm.

He presses his thumb against your cunt and you cry out, shuddering when he finally slides it inside. Your hand flies out behind you and you grab his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt.

“Spencer,” you plead. “Please.”

He kisses his way back up your thigh and you whimper when he stops, his breath hot on your hole. “Please,” you beg again, pushing back against him.

He growls softly and presses forward, his tongue dragging over your skin. You cry out again, your fingers tightening in his hair. “Spencer,” you say again. “Please. I’m begging you.”

He laughs softly and slides his thumb from your body. “Shh, baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t beg. You don’t have to beg, never have to do that with me. Gonna give you whatever you need.”

He pushes your legs open further, his breath hot on you as he presses inside. You arch up, crying out when he starts to fuck you with his tongue.

“Spencer,” you moan, pressing back against him. “Oh god, Spencer, I need you.”

“I know,” he murmurs against you, tongue slick against your wet folds, his voice vibrating through you and making your stomach clench.

You feel him pull away and you can’t help but push back again. He groans and then you’re being pushed forward. Your hands go to the bed and you feel Spencer’s hand curl around your hip.

“Fuck,” he grunts, yanking you back against him. You let out a cry of surprise when his cock slides into you with a small stretch, his fingers digging into your skin. He starts to move, pushing in deep before pulling out and slamming back in. “Fuck,” he pants again, his hand going to your back between your shoulder blades, pushing you down further, making you cry out when his angle changes.

His hips meet your ass with a soft smack every time, fingers dig into your skin and you can feel his nails bite into you. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls, his hand moving to wrap around your throat. “Like this. Fucking yourself on my cock.”

You moan, pushing back to meet his thrusts. He lets out a sharp groan and then he’s shoving you face down on the bed, holding your wrists behind your back with one hand as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Spencer,” you cry out, arching up under him. “Oh fuck, Spencer.”

He growls and starts to fuck you harder, his thrusts becoming wilder and faster as he grinds into you. His hand slips between you and the bed, his fingers brushing over your clit.

“Spencer,” you sob. “I’m gonna cum.”

He lets out another sharp cry and then his mouth is at your ear. “Don’t you dare,” he growls.

You let out a frustrated noise, trying to pull away from his hand. He holds tighter and fucks you harder, grinding into you. “Spencer,” you whine, trying to writhe under him. “Please, please. I need to cum.”

“I said don't fucking cum,” his voice harsh in your ear.

“Spencer,” you scream, shoving back against him as he fucks you.

His hand slides back between your legs, his fingers circling around your clit. “Now,” he growls. “Cum for me, baby.”

You let out a loud scream, your body shaking violently as you come. You can’t hold yourself up anymore, collapsing face down on the bed. But Spencer doesn’t stop, he doesn’t slow. He keeps fucking you, grinding into you until you feel him shudder over you.

You moan, turning your head to look at him as he comes. His lips parted, eyes scrunched shut as he rocks into you.

He falls forward, pressing his weight into you. You gasp, but it’s not uncomfortable. It feels good. He kisses your cheek and then pulls away, flopping down beside you.

You turn to look at him, reaching up to touch his face. “I love you,” you say softly.

You’re still on top of him when he wakes you a few minutes later, gently rolling you over to your back and then sliding off the bed.

You blink your eyes open, watching as he disappears into the bathroom. You’re about to close your eyes and drift back to sleep when you hear him say, “Cmere, baby.”

You blink your eyes up again and look towards the bathroom. Spencer is standing in the doorway, a warm washcloth in his hands.

“Here,” he says again.

You get up, stumbling a bit on weak legs as you make your way to the bathroom. He takes your arm when you get closer, pulling you into the bathroom and then pushing you down to sit on the toilet. He kneels in front of you, gently pushing your legs open.

You close your eyes as he presses the warm cloth to you, biting your lip softly. “That feels nice,” you murmur.

Spencer hums, his hands soft as he cleans you. He’s so gentle and caring when it comes to you. He’s not a dominant person in most of your day-to-day life, but when he does get like that, you always know it’s because you need it.

He’s so good at reading you, at knowing how you need to be touched and taken care of. You’re always so happy and content when he’s like this, because you know that he’s giving you what you need in this moment.

He starts to clean his own body, but you reach out and stop him. “Let me,” you say, smiling softly as you pull the washcloth from him.

He smiles back and leans forward a little as he lets you wash him. Your fingers move across his body, running up his thighs to his cock. It’s soft and sated, but you still press your lips to it as you drag the cloth over him. Spencer lets out a soft hum and his fingers slide through your hair.

“Thank you,” he says as you finish up.

You smile and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “I love taking care of you,” you say. “Especially after you treat me so well.”

He laughs and leans in, kissing you again. “I love that about you,” he says. “I love everything about you.”

You smile and kiss him again. “Come back to bed,” you say, climbing to your feet and then holding your hand out to him.

He takes it and stands, pulling you to him for one last kiss. “Of course,” he murmurs.

[gallaghersgal]

CONTROL: j. hughes x fem!reader

TAGS & WARNINGS → NSFW 18+. p in v, rough sex, spitting, dirty talk, y'know the works

A/N → my first jack fic, and first hockey fic in general!! pls be nice :)) based on this ask i sent on anon a few days ago...

WC → 1.4k

You’d seen what happened. One of the Rangers defenseman tried to trip Jack, earning a shove from your boyfriend. The gloves came off, then there was blood on the ice. You almost spilled your drink, standing up and screaming as your boyfriend rose in the middle of the tussle. He gets a blow in here and there before the refs separate the players.

Jack looks pissed as he skates toward the bench, but he turns around to mouth to you, “just a scratch, baby.”

You don’t talk about it until you’re home. Jack’s hand rested on your thigh the entirety of the drive, squeezing occasionally. You notice his bruised knuckles and run a thumb over them softly.

When you get home he stomps up to the bedroom, removing his sneakers with a huff. “Jack, baby,” you murmur, reaching out for him. Strong hands swat yours away, Jack stands and his frame looms over you.

“Get on the bed.” Your brow furrows in confusion, taken aback by his request. Before you can respond his hands are on your hips. “I said. Get your ass on the fucking bed.” 

You whimper as he picks you up, tossing you onto the mattress himself. You land with a soft ‘mmph!’ and watch as he hastily unties his sweats. They fall to his ankles with a quick shove, then he’s dressed in nothing but boxers and a tight black tee. 

You swallow and stare at the tent in his boxers, no matter how many times you’ve taken it your stomach always flips at the size of him. Jack’s eyes darken as he gets on the bed, crawling over to cage you in under his body. “You’re gonna sit there, and you’re gonna take what I fucking give you. Do y’understand me?”

Still, you’re too awestruck to answer. One large hand grips your jaw. “Don’t make me repeat myself, I know y’aren’t stupid. I asked you a question.” You nod dumbly, whimpering when his hand moves to squeeze your throat just slightly.

“Good girl. Hands and knees.” Jack caresses your throat, his tone commanding as he releases you. You scramble into the desired position, pressing your ass back against his bulge. You feel the thickness of him press into your center, panties already wet from the way he’s been handling you. 

With a shaky breath you tell him, “whatever you need, y’can take it.”

He coos in response, chest pressing flush to your back. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” There’s the distinct sound of your tights ripping, and before you know it he’s pushed in to the hilt. The moan that leaves you is a punched out noise from deep in your chest, you flop down onto the pillows at the head of the bed. Jack sets a mind numbing pace, grunting softly as he fills you deliciously, again and again. 

You’ll never get used to his size, girth splitting you open in the best way. All you can do is whimper weakly, your skirt flipped up and red lace panties shoved to the side. Jack isn’t normally like this, but you’re loving this side of him. The control over you, the way his hand presses your neck into the pillows, all of it is deliciously rough. A series of soft ‘ah ah ah,’ noises tumble from your parted lips, your deep shade of lipstick smearing onto the fresh white pillowcase.

And Jack fucking loves it. “They think they c’n just do whatever t’me, slam me in the fuckin’ wall. Can’t–fuck–can’t control shit out there,” he growls, hips snapping against yours. The obscene sound of skin on skin is muffled by the bits of fabric that still cling to your bodies, clothes only pushed back enough for him to slide in. Jack was too pissed for the formalities; undressing you slowly, taking his time to kiss all over your body before finally plunging into your sweet cunt. He needs you now, just as you are. And fuck he has you.

Has you mewling his name, “JackieJackieJackie–” sounding so pretty underneath him. Has your ass up in the air, tinged red with his handprints, god he loves slapping your ass. Jack has you falling apart, as he always does. He knows your body like he knows the devils playbook, inside out and backwards. Even tonight, when he’s taking what he needs from you, he can feel your orgasm drawing closer. 

“You gonna cum for me princess?” he asks, pulling out until just the tip is inside before pounding back into your pussy. You slump forward, nodding in place of the words you can’t seem to form. “Yeah, fuckin’ thought so. Such a good girl for me, letting me take control like this.”

Jack’s warm palm presses your back into a pretty arch, displaying you to him. He watches enamoured as his cock stretches you out. The sight is obscene and oh so fucking pretty. He spits on your joined bodies, aiding the slick movement as he pumps into you with quick strokes. The coil in your core winds tighter and white hot pleasure overruns you. “Fuck! Jack, baby,” you whine, followed by a high pitched moan as your orgasm washes over you.

Your head feels fuzzy, barely registering the soft coos of praise from your boyfriend. You float in that space for a bit, cheek pressed to the pillow and lashes splayed against your cheek. Jack fucks you softer, still chasing his own pleasure while he lets you take a minute to recover.

Soft kisses on your nape bring you back to reality. “Fuck that was…” you mumble, trailing off as words fail you. What could you say, mind-numbing? So good you saw stars? Truth is none of it could describe how that just felt.

Jack’s lips seal to your own, his chest pressing to your back. “Gonna fill you up,” he mumbles against your lips. “How d’you want it, sweetheart?”

“Mmm, on m’back,” you whisper, a pout gracing your lips when he pulls out. You whine at the loss, earning a soft chuckle from your boyfriend.

Strong hands maneuver you onto your back and he teases, “easy there, I’m puttin’ it back in.” He nips at your jaw, pushes the fabric of your #86 jersey up to reveal your breasts, then with one hand on his cock he pushes in.

In one smooth motion Jack fills you completely. The dark, wiry hairs at the base of his cock brush your clit and draw sweet mewls from your swollen lips. “Who’s in control baby, huh?” he asks, his tone dark as he starts to thrust slowly into you. “Who’s the only one that can make you cum like that?”

It’s hard enough to form words around Jack as it is, but when he’s above you like this? You’re practically mute. His hair hangs in your face, and a simple gold chain bumps against your chin with every thrust. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, pulling it into a pout as he slows his pace.

“Come on, asked you a question baby,” he coos, teasing you with shallow thrusts until you muster up the words to answer.

“You, only you Jackie,” you whimper, using the sweet nickname in hopes he’ll fuck you harder. It’s coy, but it works. His pace speeds again, face buried in your neck as he covers the skin with soft bruises. “You, you, you. Always you,” you whisper.

Jack smiles, you don’t see it, more feel it against your skin, but you know it’s there. “Yeah, atta girl,” he purrs, his hips starting to stutter. You know he’s close, and you bring one hand to tangle in his hair. In a smooth but firm motion you pull him in for a kiss, tongues mingling sweetly while he groans into your mouth.

“Fuck, yeah. That’s it, thank you baby, thank you,” he’s practically whining, biting down on your lower lip as his thighs shake. He fills you so deliciously, warmth blossoming between your thighs as he cums inside you. Even in the height of his pleasure, Jack still focuses back on you. He circles your clit with his thumb, muttering against your lips. “Cum for me, c’mon, tha’s my girl.”

Another orgasm washes over you, your back arching weakly as you pulse around his cock. Jack whines, hiding his face in your neck while he ruts into you, milking the last bits of pleasure from the both of you.

© gallaghersgal, 2025. div. by cafekitsune,

THX 4 READING → inspired by @cupidbedsy & @lovecla, dedicated to @hhughes. lmk what u thought of the fic!!

[ikkyfics]

hii, this is my first time requesting but can you write about reader waking dave up bc she just needs him?

I Need You

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: You bit your lip. Of course he would be worried. Dave was like that, without any sharp edges. And fuck, you loved him so much. He didn’t even suspect your perverted reasons for waking him up in the middle of the night on a weekday. But you couldn’t help it.

Warnings: smut

A/N: Hi love, I hope you like this <333 more notes at the end of the post

Masterlist

Dave thought he was dreaming. He felt something soft press against his jaw, as well as a familiar weight against his chest. His eyes remained closed until he heard a voice, your voice, calling him. “Davie,” you whispered, your mouth just below the shell of his ear. Your lips brushed against the soft skin, sending shivers down his spine. “Is it morning yet?” He asked, his voice still sleepy and huskier, steeped in doubt, his eyes narrowed as he took in the dim light that enveloped the room. “Not yet,” you answered, your voice low. Glancing at the clock next to his bedside, he was surprised to see that it was a few hours until dawn. He turned to you, his brows furrowed, you could almost hear the gears in his brain turning to figure out why he was being woken up. “Babe? Are you okay? Did something happen?” You bit your lip. Of course he would be worried. Dave was like that, without any sharp edges. And fuck, you loved him so much. He didn’t even suspect your perverted reasons for waking him up in the middle of the night on a weekday. But you couldn’t help it. Not after waking up from such a hot dream. The images were still in your mind, clear as a crystal-clear lake. Dave between your legs, filling you until nothing else existed. But then you woke up, your chest rising and falling unevenly, a light layer of sweat covering your skin and wet, so wet that you suspected your underwear was forever ruined. And Dave was beside you, sleeping soundly, his dark curls spread out on the soft pillow, forming a halo around your head, his eyelids closed covering his blue eyes. His lips parted and a relaxed expression molding his features. Painfully beautiful. You couldn’t just go back to sleep, not with the discomfort between your legs. But a part of you regretted waking up, but any regret evaporated from your mind with the liquid heat that had accumulated in your panties. “Davie…” you began, choosing your words for a moment. “I need you.” He stared at her in shock, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline, and you bet a lovely shade of pink stained his cheeks. “H-how?”

“I need you,” you repeated, this time emphasizing the words. Dave shifted in bed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, as if he was still struggling to wake up. It was cute. “Do you, uh… need me?” “Yes, Davie,” you replied sweetly, taking the liberty of leaning closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck, letting your lungs fill with his scent. Your mouth quickly began peppering kisses on the soft flesh, feeling him swallow. “I need you. I want you.” You spilled the words close to his ear, your fingers slowly wrapping around his. “I-“ Dave began, but the words died when you guided his hand to your soaked panties. A sigh bubbled out of your lips at the touch. “Fuck,” he groaned, feeling his fingers instantly grow wet. “You’re melting, baby.” “I know,” you swallowed, shuddering as he pressed the pad of his finger against your sensitive flesh. “Davie, please… oh, I need-” Your words were replaced by a moan as he pulled the undergarment away, taking his precious time to run it through your wet folds, delicately spreading your sweet arousal.

He didn’t need any more explanations. It wasn’t hard to push you until your back sank into the mattress, you were like putty in his hands. His fingers quickly tangled in the elastic of your panties, dragging the undergarment down your legs, ripping it from your body. Dave stopped, just for a moment, to enjoy the view. You were supple and needy between the sheets, your chest rising and falling out of rhythm, your skin bathed only by the little light filtering through the window. You did the impossible, every time he looked at you, you looked even more beautiful. His cock ached desperately, awakening to life, but it wasn’t about him. It was about you.

“You’re so beautiful.” That was all he said before he leaned in towards you, kissing you wildly. Feeling how hungry you were, desperate for any touch. You sighed against his lips, the fingers of your left hand quickly finding their way to his curls, tugging at them until you heard a low sound scratch the back of his throat. He continued to devour your mouth, stealing your breath — as if you didn’t give it up willingly. Dave was the kind of man who enjoyed kissing as much as making love. He kissed you like you were all that mattered, like you were his first and last. His kisses were like an I love you said up close.

When you pulled away, his mouth quickly found the soft flesh of your jaw, leaving hot kisses on your skin, making your eyes close involuntarily. You gripped his arms, your fingers curling over his biceps, as if that would be enough to keep you anchored to reality.

He continued with the kisses, lifting your shirt until your breasts were free. His mouth watered at the sight. The hard nipples that begged for attention. It sent a throb straight to his cock. Fuck. How could you be so perfect? ​​

His fingers reached your ribs, tracing lazy half circles before trailing down to the soft curve of your breast, watching as your breath hitched. His thumb found the hard peak, circling it a few times before his lips were there, sucking as if he needed it to live.

You moaned, arching your body in silent surrender, whimpering at the feeling of growing discomfort in your weeping pussy. With your mind clouded with pleasure, you didn’t even notice when his fingers slipped into the narrow space between your bodies. Dave pressed the tip of one finger into your slippery entrance, forcing his way into the narrow channel.

He knew what to do to please you, you had already taught him.

“Fuck, fuck, please!” You whimpered, rolling your hips to follow his movements, feeling as if your blood had been replaced by liquid fire.

Dave lifted his head, savoring the situation. There were few times when you acted more submissive, but to be honest, he liked being in control, but he liked it even more when you made him lose it.

As if sensing the intensity of his gaze, you opened your eyes. Watching his face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration, and without his glasses, he must not have been able to see properly — but nothing in the world would make him take his hands off you. A smile curved one corner of his mouth, the familiarity of the gesture made your chest tighten. But it wasn’t like you were capable of complex thoughts, not now. He filled you with a second finger, his thumb tracing circles on your clit and you swore you saw stars. Your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him closer until your mouths collided in a clumsy kiss, your tongue tangling with his, you whimpered. “Please, make me cum,” you begged, feeling your lower belly heave mercilessly.

With his forehead still pressed against yours, Dave bit his lip, stifling a moan. He sank his fingers knuckle-deep into your pussy. “You will,” he assured, his voice huskier and lower, reverberating through your body. He added a third finger, your walls doing little to resist the invasion, he thrust in and out, coating his fingers with your arousal. You moaned, spreading your legs a little wider.

He fucked you faster, your hot, tight pussy contracting against him, as if wanting to take him deeper. You writhed, your hips lifting to meet his fingers every time he withdrew them. The wet sound mixed with your moans filled the room. It was music to his ears, his rock-hard cock twitching against his soft sweats.

“Davie, I… I’m gonna… oh.”

Your entire body tensed, then your legs shook violently as your head fell back, your lips parted in a moan. Your pussy throbbed around his fingers, saying his name like a cunning kitten.

Dave felt his own orgasm approaching. He withdrew his fingers and settled himself over you, settling himself more comfortably between your legs. “I need to feel you, love,” he said breathlessly, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth before pulling his cock from his pants. The thick tip leaked pre-cum as he pressed it against your pussy, grinding against your sensitive clit before fitting it at your entrance. He thrust in, a moan rumbling in his throat as you welcomed him, hot and sweet, just right, embracing every inch of him passionately. Dave tilted his head back, shuddering, controlling himself from spilling out at the same moment, his reactions so violent.

You dug your fingers into his back, whimpering from the overstimulation, your eyelashes fluttering.

Dave spoke your name as if it were a prayer, a blessing, or worship. Whispering words of love, telling you how perfect you were, how much he wanted you with every thrust.

He enjoyed the sight of you fervently. Your hair spread out on the pillowcase, your body flushed and trembling, your lips red and swollen from his kisses, and your eyes… oh, your eyes, clouded with pleasure and bright. You were his undoing. His hips lost their rhythm as he spilled himself into your pussy. You thought you had reached the fullness of your pleasure, but with hot ropes of cum filling your cunt, you moaned weakly.

Dave buried his face in your shoulder, breathing in the musky scent of your skin in an attempt to regain some control before lifting his face. He brought a hand to your face, brushing away a strand of hair that had stuck to your skin thanks to the sweat. “I wouldn’t mind waking up like this more often,” he smiled. You gave him an embarrassed smile, turning your face to leave a kiss on his hand on your cheek. “I’ll remember that.”

A/N: to be honest, this is the first time I've (really) written a smut in a while, so I'm kind of nervous

[kumkaniudaku]

Amen

Summary: Terry and Patrice learn more about their love through life changing news on New Year’s Eve.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of Death

Inspired By: Ask #1 + Ask #2

MASTERLIST

Grief was a bitch. 

A mean, ugly, unwanted bitch that had settled beside Terry as an unwelcomed guest just when he thought that he'd banished it out of his life, never to return. Over two years of joy that he'd fought tooth and nail to maintain came crashing down once grief came strolling into town without warning. 

Mike was dead. He knew that. He'd reckoned with it, talked himself through the anniversary of his death once before, sent well-wishes to his aunt every time he could, cried in the shadows, mourned, lashed out, and sat in silence with the knowledge that his little cousin would never come through the door again. Mike wouldn't see another birthday. He wasn't around for the wedding or Christmas. They'd never see another football game together. Mike would never meet Nyla. 

That fact came as a sobering realization while Terry watched his only daughter's chest rise and fall as she slept peacefully in her crib for the first time all day. A cold running through her daycare had finally latched on to her fresh immune system, turning his usually jovial baby into a shell of herself. He told his higher-ups that he needed to take the day to care for her in his mother-in-law's stead, but what he really needed was time alone to deal with his uninvited guest. 

Leaning over the sturdy walnut railing keeping his little girl safely inside her crib, he watched her with the ghost of a smile on his lips. Mike would've loved her. Terry was sure of it. He'd make his way to Fayetteville at any opportunity and cause havoc, probably irritating Patrice but definitely doting on Nyla in a way that only he could. 

Tears that had been fighting to see the world all day pricked Terry's eyes yet again. He almost let them fall but found himself blinking them back once Patrice pushed open the door and poked her head inside. 

She smiled despite work wearing her thin and waved with her fingers. "Can I come in, or would that be too much?" 

"Of course, you can," he answered, trying to put on a brave face to hide the true turmoil inside. 

Seeing her stand there, her bright smile directed at him like he was the sun, moon, and stars, was the first time he'd felt anything other than the weight of regret. He needed her to come into the room. 

Tiptoeing, Patrice approached Terry and peered over the crib's railing to look at Nyla. "How was she," she whispered before softly touching her forehead to check for heat. "Doin' any better?" 

"A little. I got her to eat and play for a bit before the medicine kicked in. She should be out for the night and good enough to sit with your mom by the ceremony on Monday. But, we'll see." 

"Good. Thank you for taking the lead. I know she was happy to have you around." She took a second look at her pride and joy, then focused all her attention on Terry. Worry and sadness had found a home on his brow line as they remained furrowed in thought. She leaned her head on his forearm and looked up at him. "And what about my other baby? How was he today?" 

The date wasn't lost on Patrice. She noticed when Terry slowly retreated into himself the week before. She saw him looking at Mike's Instagram when he thought she wasn't paying attention. She heard the conversation with his aunt when he promised to come by and see her the next time he could make it to Baton Rouge, even though she knew that time wasn't coming. Every shift in his demeanor and thousand-yard stare showed that he was reliving a hellish time she couldn't protect him from. 

No amount of soothing could pull him out of his rut. But that wouldn't stop her from trying. 

Terry continued to stare down at Nyla as he answered. "I'm okay. Not too up, not too down." 

"You need anything?" Terry didn't respond with words once he finally tore his eyes away from their daughter to look at Patrice. He only shook his head. "Can I give you a hug at least?" 

His first dose of physical affection for the day felt like the wind was gently placed back into his lungs as Patrice pulled him closer by his shoulders. His hands found her waist first, giving the spot a short squeeze before allowing his arms to fully encircle her body. 

"I love you. You know that?" 

"I know." That was the one thing he was sure of. His heart and mind were splintered into a million pieces, but he knew Patrice was there to help him put each one back in their proper place. His lips found her temple for a lingering kiss as he closed his eyes to ward off the sadness, still trying to take center stage. "I, um…I... didn't have a good day today…" Terry struggled with the words, opening and closing his mouth in hopes that something would come out while Patrice listened to him try to articulate his thoughts. A deep breath and closed eyes helped him settle before he spoke. "I could use some time together. Whatever you have tonight, I'll take it. I know you have to be up early tomorrow, so even an hour is –" 

His words were cut short by a simple kiss on his cheek. Patrice pulled back to look at him and flashed a reassuring smile. "Give me a few minutes to get changed, and you have me for however long you need me. I'll stay up late and everything. Dasia will understand if I cancel my hair appointment for tomorrow."

"I don't want you to do that." 

"We'll play it by ear," she answered to douse the early flames of a disagreement. "Twenty minutes. You can time me." 

Terry nodded in understanding and silently agreed to let Patrice out of his sight when he needed her most. Whether she was gone for 30 seconds or three days, the time away felt slow. 

Terry tried and quickly tired of distracting himself in Nyla's nursery before quietly slipping out and taking the trek to wait for Patrice like a lost puppy.

He settled into the plush velvet chair in the corner and sighed with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Closed eyes heightened his sense of hearing, giving him full access to Patrice's singing in the shower. 

Mike would've loved the Patrice he heard so much about. He'd call her 'big sis' and annoy her the way little brothers do. They'd argue endlessly but still find time for secret handshakes and inside jokes. He'd finally have someone on his side to pester Terry and receive sound advice from when the going got tough. They may have taken him in as their overgrown first child. They could've worked together to get him on the right path and save his life. 

Unfortunately, Terry would never know. The not knowing left the door wide open for sadness to creep back in. 

He breathed deep and tried to will grief away with Patrice's voice as a lullaby in the background. And for a moment, it complied. The dark, heavy cloud slipped off his back and down to his feet with every exhale, lightening the weight on his arms and shoulders until he felt close to a Terry who was safe, sound, and far from the troubles of his past. 

Mike would want that. He'd like to know what Terry had going on as the last person expected to settle down into a family man. He'd probably poke fun at his older cousin for attending birthing classes and fawning over ruffled outfits in Target when what he knew of Terry was brooding, reserved, and quietly menacing. Mike had seen his cousin kick up dust with the worst of them. Seeing Terry as a man who wouldn't so much as cough too loud if his wife or daughter was around would be a sight. 

As grief slowly packed its things and headed for the door, his comfort emerged from the steaming bathroom, looking like a lighthouse in a raging storm. 

Patrice's humming paused once she noticed Terry sitting in the corner. "Missed me," she teased, drawing a small, dry chuckle from her husband as she made her way to their dresser. "You could've joined if you wanted."

"That's alright. I know you need your time to decompress.” He gestured toward the garment in her hand. “Need help with that?"

She could've put her clothes on with no assistance, but Patrice knew that Terry wouldn't have asked if he didn't need the distraction. She granted his covert request for her attention by quickly plucking matching pieces from her sleepwear drawer and placing them in his outstretched hands. 

They spent time in comfortable silence while he slid soft cotton up her legs and then helped her into her shirt, kissing random spots of exposed skin along the way. "I didn't ask about your day. I'm sorry. I got a lot of…other stuff on my mind. How was work?" 

"It was work. Nothing too important. Glad it's the weekend. Two more days, and I get to see my first graduating class of freshmen that I taught. Isn't that crazy? I'm getting old, huh?" She laughed by herself. 

Terry avoided eye contact despite his faint smile, preferring to tie the drawstring at her waist in a neat bow like she preferred. "Never old. Only better."

"You're too sweet." Patrice cuddled him close when he was done and rubbed a spot at the nape of his neck to soothe him into closing tired, heavy lids. "I know it's tough, but I promise you'll be okay, babe. The sadness isn't gonna go away, but you'll learn to live with it. You'll learn to make space for all those feelings inside you at once. And I'll be here when you need someone else to hold some of them, too." 

Terry sighed. "I'm not tryin' to be a burden for you, P. We have enough going on as is." 

"You're not a burden, Terry; you're my husband – my friend."

To be accepted with all of the muddy waters traversing his mind and heart felt like too much to ask for in Terry's mind, especially from someone who'd spent so much time wading through all his bullshit without complaint. He owed her his life, the full weight of his love, until the day God deemed their time together but a beautiful memory forever etched in boxed trinkets and old photos. 

He wanted to give her the moon as she stood stroking his pain away with her fingertips but settled for kissing his way up her sternum on the way to her lips. 

One day, when other emotions had dwindled, and he was feeling more like himself, Terry would lay his head on Patrice's lap and tell her about the atrocities that had shaped the time before they reacquainted. That day wasn't today, and all he could think of was pouring his gratitude for her graciousness into making sure she was satisfied in the one area he could control. 

Shorts that had only been on her body for mere minutes found a new home on the floor alongside her top. Patrice was weightless in Terry's arms as he carried her to their shared bed, his lips attached to hers for needy kisses that felt more like life rafts to keep him above rough waters than affectionate gestures. 

Patrice questioning if he was sure about his actions fell on deaf ears, and soon, all of her inquiries became lost whispers in a room swirling with the sounds of desperate lovemaking. Terry left his mark on her neck and chest while he worked himself out of his clothes. 

His voice came in gravelly against the shell of her ear. "I fuckin' love you, Treece. Don't ever leave me." He was pleading and caught somewhere between raw desire and tremendous despair. "Please, don't ever leave me." 

"I'm not going anywhere, baby," Patrice reassured without hesitation.

Terry left soft kisses and big, salty tears on Patrice's cheeks once their foreheads met. "Please. I need you, Patrice." Grief was back and taunting him in his ear with its partner in crime, Doubt. She'll leave, just like everyone else. You don't deserve her. Lies filled his head with no shut-off valve in sight. The tears turned into sobs he couldn't ignore with breathing techniques or a change in his thought process. "I'm sorry. I just need you. I can't do this by myself. Don't leave." 

Patrice quickly cast amorous feelings aside to wrap her arms tight around Terry. "Woah, woah, TJ. I'm here! I'm right here." 

Grief was a bitch. Even when he threw his best punch at it, grief always hit Terry back with a haymaker that left him staggering and woozy in defeat. 

The moments after his heaving, hyperventilating meltdown became a blur of Patrice's soft-spoken instruction, lavender bubble bath, and candlelight. When he came back from a mental trip to Shelby Springs to live out alternate realities, where he emerged victorious with Mike by his side, he found himself nestled between his wife's legs, surrounded by fresh hot water and scented white foam. 

Patrice moved behind him, plastic crinkling as she peeled the back off of something he couldn't see before bringing her wet hands around to his face. "These'll help with the puffiness," she declared like an experienced esthetician informing a client. "I used to use this every other day in grad school. Cry all you need. No one will ever know by morning." 

A 'thank you' tried to rise from his throat, but Terry quickly found his voice too hoarse to say anything worth a damn. Patrice didn't mind, though. She was content to press another cold patch underneath his eye before grabbing the shampoo rinse cup resting near the baby monitor at the edge of the tub. 

Terry closed his eyes as the warm water washed over his short curls, sitting neatly behind a sharp hairline and tapered sides. His hair glistened under flickering lights provided by small flames in glass components. Patrice used her acrylic nails to work magic against his scalp, turning shampoo into a mountain of suds to cleanse the pain. 

"I swear every time my Nana and mama scrubbed my head, I felt like a new person after. One time, I was going through the worst friend breakup I've ever had, and by the time Mommy finished with me, I didn't even know that girl's name. Didn't even matter anymore." 

"What happens after the scrub, though? You just…go back to normal?" 

Patrice chuckled as she ran another stream of water across his head to start on a second lather. "Hell no. That's where the patches come in." Terry allowed himself his first genuine laugh all day, taking a stone out of grief's stronghold. His fingertips ran back and forth over the wet skin on Patrice's legs as he sat with his eyes closed in a battle for his sanity. They let the quiet ripple of water around them fill the humid air in the room, preferring to enjoy the feel of skin on skin over extraneous conversation until Patrice began running conditioner through each of his thick strands. "I love when you wear your hair like this. The haircuts are nice, but when it's grown out, it reminds me of young you." 

"Hot-headed, couldn't buckle down enough to work through being mad at not getting scholarships to still go to college me?" Terry scoffed, finding the notion of a younger, far less polished him being someone worth missing. 

Patrice shrugged. "I didn't know that Terry," she confessed. The stories of his anger felt like fables to Patrice. The only Terrence Richmond she'd ever known was sweet as homemade banana pudding after Sunday service and a whip-smart boy with the world at his feet. "My Terry and his little fro was always kind. Always noble and lending a helping hand. And now he's got a baby girl in the other room with a head full of her daddy's curls after she looked like Charles Barkley for three months." Terry smiled at the mention of Nyla and how she'd inherited at least one part of him after taking her mother's entire face. Patrice watched him reach for the monitor and bring it closer to his face for a look at his second favorite girl before she continued. "My Terry is who Mike loved. I never met him, but I know he saw the best in you. We all do, baby." 

More silence sat heavy as Terry wiped away fresh tears gathering at his waterline. Of course, they'd see the best in him when he couldn't see the best in himself. 

Grief came knocking again with Doubt in tow, but Terry ignored them to slide deeper into the water and rest his heavy head on Patrice's chest before speaking. "Mike and me…we used to get in a lot of trouble at my granny's house." 

"Yeah? Two badass kids, huh? Tell me about it."

"One time," he started, already smiling at the memory. "We got her beagle, Satchel, sick because we kept feeding him shrimp out of the gumbo. He threw up all over the back porch, and Mike got so scared that he told on us, thinking we wouldn't get the switch if we were honest." 

"Did y'all?" 

Terry laughed and nodded. "Wore our asses out. I hated that damn dog for the rest of his life. It wasn't his fault, but I was just a kid." 

"You knew better, though." 

"Whose side are you on right now?" Terry asked, looking up at Patrice with faux offense on his face. 

She giggled back. "Okay, my bad!" A final round of water cascaded down Terry's shoulders and back, washing the ugly soot of regret off of his grief to reveal the love making up its inner parts. Patrice kissed his wet hair and held her lips there even as she spoke. "Can you tell me more about Mike? I wanna know him through you."

The invitation erupted a dormant volcano deep within his Terry's heart.

He told stories of his cousin and their time together until the lavender-scented bubbles evaporated into tepid bath water. Until grief felt more like gratitude for memories made. Until Patrice's stomach ached from laughter. Until the clock struck midnight, and tears started to roll again. Until Patrice had wiped his entire face with her delicate fingertips several times over without a single inkling of exasperation or judgement while they lay face to face beneath cold sheets. And until she finally closed her eyes from exhaustion and turned her back for some shut-eye. 

Then, he talked to God. A long list of thank you's emerged from his heart. A thank you for keeping him alive, one for time spent with Mike, one for his daughter, and another for the only person keeping him afloat when all he wanted to do was drown. 

Terry looked at Patrice and smiled. Light from the television illuminated her face, highlighting her knitted brow and slight frown as she lay in the throes of a dream he could only imagine was vivid enough to evoke such a clear expression of disgust. The thought alone produced a genuine smile. 

Clicking the power button, Terry found himself in complete darkness, fighting for the words to finish his prayer. He sighed and looked back toward Heaven. "She's perfect, God. Even when she isn't. If you never give me anything else, thank you for Patrice."

"Hm?"

Patrice's groggy response to her name being called made Terry roll over on his side to calm her back into sleep. "Nothing, baby," he spoke into her shoulder before pressing a kiss on her skin. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, earning a content sigh. "I was just praying for you."

She smiled without opening her eyes. "Well, amen to that."

Tears tickled Terry's waterline, this time filled with overwhelming gratitude. A blessing like no other. 

"Yeah. Amen to that."

-----

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[lacydollette]

⋆˙⟡ BLESSING IN DISGUISE ⋆˙⟡

CHAPTER EIGHT

PAIRING rafe cameron x lovely kook!reader

WARNING(S) explicit language, barry, arguing, kissing, smut, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, long chapter this time whopsi

SUMMARY when barry calls you up out of nowhere you surely didn’t expect the day to end the way it did, but you at least got your answer now.

For days, your mind was a war zone. Sarah’s words still haunting you every day, her advice to make a choice and stop dragging everyone, including yourself, through the chaos lingering deep. But the chaos wasn’t just around you—it was inside you, a raging storm of thoughts and feelings that wouldn’t settle even when you tried.

Rafe or JJ?

Your heart already knew the answer, a truth you didn’t want to admit just yet. But your head was stubborn and terrified of the future, spinning uncontrollably. You didn’t want to hurt anyone, least of all yourself, but no matter what you chose, someone would get burned. It was in the middle of one of these endless, messy thoughts that your phone rang. The name on the screen made your brows furrow. Barry.

“Hello?” you answered hesitantly. “Hey princess, need ya’ help,” Barry said, his voice low but urgent. “Uh…what? Since when do you need my help?” you asked, startled. “Since now,” he snapped, sounding impatient. “Just get over here. I’ll explain when ya’ get here.” You rolled your eyes, “Barry, I swear to—”

“Stop complainin’ and c’mere!” he cut you off, hanging up before you could argue further. Barry wasn’t the type to ask for help, let alone from you. And despite your suspicion, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement at the thought of seeing him again. Barry had always been a chaotic constant in your life, and sometimes his ridiculous antics were the perfect distraction.

A short drive later, you pulled up to Barry’s trailer. You stepped out of the car, brushing off any doubt as you approached the door. “Barry, you better have a damn good reason for this,” you called out, pushing the door open. But the moment you stepped inside, your smile faltered, fading completely when your eyes landed on the figure sitting next to Barry.

Rafe.

He sat slouched in a chair, his arms crossed over his chest, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours the second you walked in, his stomach twisting at the sight of you. You stopped in your tracks, your gaze darting between him and Barry.

“What the hell is he doing here?” you asked, sounding more than irritated. Barry, looking more amused than anything, leaned back in his chair, lighting a cigarette. Rafe wanted to say something, anything, but Barry jumped in first with that smug grin Rafe hated so much. “What’s he doing here?” He repeated in a high pitched voice, mocking you, leaving you speechless.

Barry exhaled a puff of smoke and looked between the two of you, shaking his head. “I’m sick of this shit. The both of you, acting like you’re in some tragic shit show. Country Club here has been bitchin’ about you nonstop, and honestly, jus’ can’t listen to it anymore.”

Rafe glared at Barry. “You didn’t have to call her,” he muttered. Barry ignored him though, focusing on you instead. “You two need to figure this out. Right now. Fix it, fight it out, make out, I don’t give a shit. Just get it over with so I can have some peace.”

Your jaw dropped, but before you could say anything, Barry stood up and headed for the door. “And for the record,” he added, looking over his shoulder, “if y’all don’t fix it, I swear to God, I’m gonna put a bullet in both of yall’s head.” With that, he walked out of the trailer, leaving you alone with Rafe..

The silence in the trailer was unbearable, a gaping void neither of you was willing to fill. He sat on the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, while you stood near the door, arms crossed tightly over your chest. Neither of you spoke, the tension growing tighter and tighter with each passing second.

You were sick of this. Sick of the games, the push and pull, the endless cycle of him chasing you just to shove you away again. The frustration bubbling in your chest was threatening to spill over when Rafe finally broke the silence. “So…” he huffed out, nodding nonchalantly.

That was it. One word. A quiet, hesitant, and utterly infuriating word. You rolled your eyes, “Seriously, Rafe? That’s all you’ve got? So?” He looked up at you, his jaw tightening. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know,” you snapped, throwing your hands in the air. “Maybe start by explaining why you’ve been acting like a complete asshole? Especially at the bonfire. Do you even realize how out of line that was?” Rafe leaned back slightly while you tore into him, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Every time I think we’ve made progress, you pull something like that. You don’t get to act like you care one second and then push me away the next. You’re a goddamn mess, Rafe, and I’m tired of pretending it’s not affecting me!”

Your words came fast and heated, all the anger and hurt spilling out before you could stop yourself. “You don’t know what you want, and instead of dealing with your own shit, you make me your punching bag. And for what? Because you’re too scared to feel anything real?”

Rafe flinched slightly, your accusations hitting him hard. His hands curled into fists on his knees, but he didn’t fight back. He couldn’t. You were right, and he knew it.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, “I don’t know what to do, okay? I don’t know how to fix this—fix me.” his voice was low and strained. “That’s not good enough!” you yelled, your voice cracking. “You don’t get to destroy everything around you and then act like you’re the victim.”

Rafe’s head snapped up, his blue eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and desperation. “I’m not the victim. You think I don’t know what I’m doing? That I don’t hate myself for it?”

His voice rose, getting up abruptly and pacing around, “I know, alright? And seeing you with JJ makes me actually physically sick. I can’t fucking help that I’m still in love with you!” The confession hit you like a stroke, the words hanging in the air between you. For a moment, you were stunned into silence, staring at him as your heart pounded in your chest.

“You should be with me,” Rafe continued, his voice breaking. “Not him. Not anyone else. Me.” The rawness in his voice cracked something inside you. You’d seen Rafe angry, cruel, and broken—but this was different. This was vulnerability, his raw feelings laid right at your feet.

Your voice softened, trembling slightly. “If you love me so much, then why do you keep pushing me away?” He shook his head, his hands running through his hair as his body trembled. “I don’t know!” he shouted, his voice loud and ragged. “I don’t fucking know how to stop! I’m so screwed up, and every time I think I’m getting better, I just—” He cut himself off, his shoulders slumping as he buried his face in his hands.

The sight of him broke something in you, something you had tried so hard to get rid of. Rafe breathed out heavily, wiping over his face in frustration before he looked up again, his ocean blue eyes finding yours, and both of you stopped breathing for a second.

Suddenly there wasn’t any hatred or anger between you two, just a raw connection, a pull that had been always lingering underneath the surface since you’d returned, just like the one night in your room after you had patched him up.

But now couldn’t take it anymore. And before you could think it through you rushed toward him, closing the distance between you. You cupped his face, pulling his tall figure down to you and pressing your lips to his. Rafe froze for a heartbeat, his breath hitching against your lips. But then he kissed you back, hard and desperate, his hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing keeping him steady.

The kiss was overwhelming, all teeth and tongue and barely contained emotion. It wasn’t sweet or soft—it was raw, built on frustration and longing and every unspoken word between you. His hands moved up your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging as the kiss deepened, your body pressing against his.

It was too much, and yet not enough. Every ounce of hurt and desire poured out in that moment, leaving both of you breathless. The kiss grew more frantic, more urgent, as if every pent-up emotion you'd both been holding back was pouring out at once. Your hands held onto his neck, your nails lightly grazing his skin, while his hands rested on your curves.

Without breaking the kiss, you pressed forward, pushing him back onto the worn-out couch. He let out a soft grunt as his back hit the cushions, his hands immediately settling on your round ass as you straddled him. The trailer's cramped space seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you and the heat building between you.

"Are you sure about this?" Rafe whispered through the kiss, his voice rough and low, scared that you might regret this, leaving him again. "Stop talking, Rafe." You muttered out, not getting enough of him.

His eyes darkened at your words, his grip on your ass tightening as you leaned down, capturing his lips in another kiss. It wasn't gentle or careful—neither of you wanted that right now. It was messy and intense. Your hands roamed over his chest, pushing aside the fabric of his black shirt to feel the warmth of his skin. Rafe groaned softly against your mouth, his own hands sliding under your top, fingers trailing up your spine and leaving your skin tingling.

"You're gonna drive me insane," he murmured against your lips, his voice full of both frustration and awe. "You already drive me insane," you shot back breathlessly, tugging his shirt up and over his head.

The air in the room felt heavier as the kiss deepened, your movements becoming more urgent. Rafe's hands gripped your thighs as you rolled your hips against him, earning a low growl from deep in his chest. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. The tension between you had been building for far too long, and neither of you had any intention of stopping it now. Clothes were shed piece by piece, falling to the floor.

Rafe's hands roamed over your bare skin, his touch slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of you. His lips trailed down the curve of your neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses that made your breath hitch. When his mouth found its way to your tits, you gasped, his warm lips wrapping around the sensitive bud as his hands caressed your sides, holding you close.

"Rafe," you whimpered out, your voice shaky, a mix of anticipation and need as you felt your arousal pooling between your thighs. His name on your lips only spurted him on, his mouth sucking harder, teeth grazing lightly in a way that made your back arch. Your hips began to move on their own, trying to get as much friction as possible, your slick folds grazing over his hard cock.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, inhaling sharply as he felt your eager cunt rub over him. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly as he continued to worship you, his hands never staying still, exploring every curve of your body. But you needed more.

“please..need more.” You breathed out. He looked up at you then, eyes full of lust and need, still not believing that he finally had you again. You smiled as you lifted yourself up a little, reaching underneath you and lining his tip up with your entrance, letting it brush through your wet folds to lube it up. Rafe watched as you slowly sunk down on his cock, and he swore he could’ve cum right then and there.

“Shit—“ he cursed as he felt your plush walls embrace him, filling you up to the brim. You whimpered at the sudden fullness, looping your arms around his neck before slowly starting to roll your hips. That’s when you realized just how much you had actually been aching for this.

You started bouncing on his cock faster, making both of you moan out, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, placing soft and wet kisses there. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Fucking missed you.” He breathed against your skin, his hands finding your hips as he noticed your movements growing sloppier.

“I’ve got you.” Rafe whispered through gritted teeth, holding you firm as he thrusted upwards, slamming into you at a rough pace so you could relax. “oh my god—“ you moaned out as his cock continuously hit your cervix, bringing you closer and closer to your release.

And Rafe could tell you were almost there from the way you were clenching around his cock, the noises of skin slapping and your dripping cunt filling the small room of the trailer. At this point you were a moaning mess, arching into him as you felt the wave of your orgasm rush over you, leaving your cunt fluttering around him.

“So fucking pretty when you cum.” He thrusted up into you relentlessly, eyes locked on your beautiful face, fucking you through your orgasm as he was still chasing his own. After a few more hard thrusts you felt him twitch inside of you, hips bucking up and painting you white from the inside, letting out one last groan, “shit.”

The quietness right after was heavy, only your exhausted breaths being heard, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Both of you were worn-out, little droplets of sweat plastered over Rafe’s forehead which you wiped away gently, brushing back his messy hair. Your touch was so tender it made something in his chest ache, a warmth he hadn’t let himself feel in far too long. He smiled at you, his hazy gaze making your tummy flutter in the best way possible.

Meanwhile Rafe’s breathing had slowed, his arms still draped securely around you as if he was afraid you might slip away. The heat of his body calming you. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice breaking the silence. It was soft, almost hesitant while the words still felt heavy on his tongue.

He hated himself for every tear he’d caused you, every ounce of doubt he’d planted in your heart. “I mean it,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For how I’ve treated you, for pushing you away when all I wanted was to keep you close… for hurting you when I swore I never would.”

You felt your chest tighten at his words, the raw sincerity in them cutting through the walls you’d built up. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I get so caught up in my head, and this coke bullshit, it… it makes me feel like I’m in control. But I’m not. I’m spiraling, and I hate myself for dragging you into it.”

Tears welled in his eyes, and he looked away, his jaw clenching as he couldn’t bear to let you see him like this—weak, broken, a mess of a man who didn’t deserve your forgiveness. “But I don’t want to do it anymore. The emptiness, the anger, the self-sabotage. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I can’t. Not again.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands and turning him back to face you. “Rafe,” you said softly, voice steady despite the emotions rushing through your chest. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” His breath hitched, his eyes searching yours as he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I mean it,” you continued, brushing your thumbs gently over his cheekbones. “I know you’re struggling, but you don’t have to do this alone. I’ll be here. I’ll stay by your side, no matter what. We’ll figure it out together, ray.”

His heart jumped a little at the nickname, as he hadn’t heard it leaving your lips in a long time. He closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw trembling as he processed your words, your forgiveness meaning everything to him, giving him a new chance to make it right this time. “I’ll stop,” he promised, “this coke shit—it ends now. I swear, I’m going to do better. For you. For us.”

You smiled softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. It wasn’t like the desperate, heated kisses from earlier. This one was soft, reassuring, a promise to the both of you. “I know,” you murmured against his lips before placing another kiss on his jaw, then his temple. “And I’ll be here to help you. You don’t have to do it alone.”

He pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his arms tightened around you. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice muffled. “Yes, you do,” you replied firmly, running your fingers through his hair. “I love you, Rafe.”

When the words left your lips, Rafe stilled completely, his mind struggling to catch up. You loved him. The three words echoed in his head, almost too good to be true. For a second, he thought he might have imagined it, but the way you looked at him, so full of hope and awe, left no room for doubt. He let out a shaky breath, his lips parting as he wanted to say something. Anything. But no words came out.

lnstead, he reached for you, his big hands cupping your face as he kissed you like he was pouring every ounce of his love and gratitude into you. He held you like you were his lifeline, and in that moment, you knew he meant every word he’d said. This time, he was serious. And you were ready to stand by his side as he found his way back. You had made your decision.

But then the peaceful silence between you and Rafe was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the trailer door creaking open. “Alright, lovebirds, you better have—” Barry stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him. You and Rafe froze, your legs still straddling him on the couch, Rafe’s shirt you’d hastily grabbed barely doing its job of covering you both.

“Aw, c’mon man!” Barry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “You seriously fucked? On my couch?!” Rafe groaned, dragging a hand over his face while you tried to stifle a laugh, burying your head in his chest. “Barry, it’s not—”

“Don’t you dare say it’s not what it looks like,” Barry cut him off, glaring. “Because it’s exactly what it looks like! Jesus, Rafe, I said to fix things, not ruin my damn furniture!” You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore, and Rafe shot you a look, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if he was trying not to smile.

Barry pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself while turning away so you two could get dressed. “I’m gonna have to burn this thing. Or sell it to some crackhead on Craigslist. Rafe, you owe me a new couch. Top-of-the-line, none of that secondhand bullshit.”

“Barry, relax,” Rafe said, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “We’ll clean it.” Barry retorted, “Oh, hell nah,” backing away from the couch like it was radioactive. “You think a bottle of Lysol’s gonna fix this? This couch is dead to me.”

“Barry, we’re sorry. Really.” Tears of laughter streaming down your face as you put on the last piece of clothing. “You can save the apology,” Barry huffed, pointing at the door. “Just get out. Both of you.”

Rafe smirked, standing and buckling up his jeans. “Thanks for the hospitality, Barry.” Barry shook his head, muttering under his breath as he opened the door for you both. “Unbelievable. Next time you two need to ‘talk,’ do it somewhere that doesn’t involve my shit.”

As you and Rafe stepped out into the cool night air, you glanced back at Barry, who was still grumbling to himself. “We owe you,” you called out, still grinning. “Damn right, you do!” Barry shouted back, pointing at Rafe. “I want that new couch by the weekend!”

As the door slammed behind you, Rafe grinned, slipping an arm around your waist, his heart feeling lighter for the first time in ages, like he could actually breathe without having to worry about anything. “I think that went well.” He chuckled. You shook your head, still laughing as you leaned into him. “Oh, definitely.”

LINKS .ᐟ series masterlist

TAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @rafesheaven @rafescokewhore @rafeysbunny @rafesangelita @drewspinkbunny @whinyangel @starzify @glitterybombshell @rafesweetie @rafey-baby @nativegirltapes @littlelamy @lizziesangel @maybankslover @cherrygirlfriend @httpsdrewstarkey @lilithblackkk

[didyoulookforme]

lazy sucking bf matty’s cock on the couch while watching a movie idk :)

it’s a thursday evening and you and your sweet boyfriend are lying on the couch watching jurassic park which is a movie both of you know by heart but matty’s had a stressful day and there’s nothing more comforting than watching a familiar film with his girl draped all over him and a cozy blanket enveloping you both. your legs are lazily tangled together as you rest your head on his chest, one of his hands under your shirt drawing mindless figures on your lower back, his other playing with the rings on your fingers as he often does. every now and then he kisses the top of your head and you cannot help but grin like an idiot because you love him so damn much.

not even jeff goldblum can make you focus on the film because you’re too distracted looking up at matty, his brows furrowed and often reciting a line under his breath because he’s too fucking adorable for his own good. his curls are half damp from his shower prior so they hang loosely over his face and the cushion below making him look like the perfect human being. you notice the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows over his cheekbones, the curve of his lips when he concentrates. he bites the tip of his tongue when he’s thinking, and it’s the kind of thing that still drives you utterly mad after years and years of knowing him. that paired with his hand now fully splayed against your back pushes you over the edge, wanting to touch more of him so you do so, gently pulling your hand away from his but not before you kiss his knuckles.

your hand lowers until it’s under the hem of his striped jumper, brushing the soft hair trailing down his navel. he doesn’t really react until your fingertips are under the waistband of his joggers. it’s then that he looks down and asks what you’re doing and you tell him nothing, to just keep watching. he kisses the top of your head again, mumbling an “okay, if you say so” very sweetly but he definitely knows what you’re up to by the way his lips curl.

you place a kiss on his chest before continuing to push your hand under his grey sweatpants, knowing well that he doesn’t usually put on boxers after an evening shower hehe. you palm over him, feeling him soft against your hand. you pump him oh so slowly as he grows harder with every lazy stroke of your fingers. he doesn’t say anything, but his breathing changes and you glance up to see his eyes flutter closed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth again. you never speed up and eventually his hips join the slow rhythm moving up and down to get a bit more friction. he’s so fucking beautiful like that. he always lets you do whatever you want to him and he couldn’t be any more adorable.

he finally looks down at you, pupils blown wide and he has the sweetest, dopiest smile on his face, and when you ask if he’s okay, he just nods as he rakes a hand through your hair. you shift down as he watches you, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his joggers, pulling them down as he lifts his hips to help you. once he’s free, you just stare at his pretty cock because, yes, it’s perfect and no one will convince you otherwise. beads of precum drip from his tip and you can’t help but lick and place soft, open mouthed kissed all down his dick. sometimes sucking gently and grazing your teeth against the sensitive skin there. again, you go as slow as possible and there’s not one single part of him that your mouth and tongue don’t touch.

you can tell that matty is doing his best to not just fuck your face right then and there, but he’d be damned if he’s not enjoying every single second of you tasting him. his fingers are somehow able to function enough to mute the television, this way he can listen to the way your lips sound when you kiss him or when you kitten lick along his slit. he doesn’t want to miss a single moan that falls from your lips either.

now that you have his full attention, you let saliva pool on your tongue and let it drip on him because you know he likes it wet and messy. you pump him one, two, three times before taking the tip in your month, sucking softly while your tongue swirls around it. his fingertips are now really digging into your back but you don’t give a shit because the whimpers coming from him are delicious and otherworldly. you spend a couple of minutes sucking the head while your hand strokes the rest of him, but when you feel his tummy quiver nonstop, you take him in fully until he hits the back of your throat. you gag once but that’s enough for matty to ask if you’re okay so you just hum in response, those tiny vibrations making his dick twitch against your tongue. slowly you bring yourself up, savouring every inch of him, before you start bobbing your head up and down in the same slow, maddening pace you’ve set for the night.

matty, being the gentleman that he is, uses his hands to bring your hair into a makeshift ponytail so the strands don’t get in your way. but honestly, it’s mostly so he can clearly stare at you sucking his dick and making an absolute mess of him. he nods each time you ask if he’s okay, and when you call him your sweet boy, he doesn’t even hesitate to ask you to call him that again and even thanks you in return. 

he gets impossibly hard in your mouth and you know he’s so, so close. when he whines that he’s about to finish, you pull your head back and stroke him only one more time before he’s spilling onto his stomach, carefully watching as his warm cum pools on his abdomen and some of it trails down the side, staining the couch. not that it’s the first time that’s happened, but no one needs to know that. you look up at him and smile as he tries to catch his breath, but it doesn’t help when you lean down and lap up every single bit of his cum because it’d be a shame to have it go to waste. once he’s clean, you shift up to finally kiss him and he very adorably cups your face and makes out with you, moaning as he tastes himself on you <3

[sikyulioness]

Heyyyyy, I love your stories. ❤❤❤❤

The first and second ones make my heart ache 🥺🥺.

Anyway, can you write a Jinwoo x reader where the reader is a cat that Jinwoo picked up and raised, then suddenly one day the cat turns into a human???

HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY!!✨

✨Of course here you go I hope you like it✨

My Master, My Love

A Solo Leveling Jinwoo x Reader Story

---

It had started with a storm.

The rain had been relentless that night, drumming against the pavement as a lone figure hurried through the streets. Sung Jinwoo, now hailed as the world's strongest Hunter, barely flinched at the downpour. What was a little rain compared to the dungeons he had conquered?

But then, something made him pause.

A faint, pitiful sound—a meow.

He turned toward a dimly lit alleyway, where a tiny, shivering cat huddled against the wall, drenched and weak. His brows furrowed. The rational part of him told him to move on. He wasn’t exactly a pet person. He had a sister to take care of and a life filled with battles.

Yet, before he even realized it, he was crouching down, reaching out to the trembling creature.

“Hey there,” he murmured.

Golden eyes peered up at him, filled with a strange intelligence that made his chest tighten. Without thinking further, he picked you up, cradling your tiny form against his warm jacket. You didn't resist—too weak to protest, or maybe... maybe you had already decided to trust him.

That night, you became part of Sung Jinwoo’s world.

---

At first, you were simply a stray he had taken in, a small, quiet companion in his vast, powerful life. Jinwoo wasn’t particularly experienced with pets, but he learned. He learned that you preferred fish over chicken, that you liked perching on his shoulder even when he was working, and that you had an uncanny ability to sense his moods.

When he came home from exhausting raids, covered in wounds and blood, you would curl up beside him, purring softly as if trying to heal him in your own way. And maybe, in a way, you did.

“(Y/N),” he sighed one night, watching as you batted at the pages of a book he was trying to read. “You’re spoiled, you know that?”

You just blinked at him, tail flicking as if to say, And whose fault is that?

Jinwoo chuckled, scratching behind your ears. “Yeah, yeah… mine.”

He never regretted picking you up that night.

---

Then, one day, everything changed.

Jinwoo had gone out for a quick errand, leaving you lounging on his bed. It was an ordinary day—until an unbearable heat spread through your body. You tried to move, but a sharp pain wracked your limbs. It felt like something inside you was shifting, breaking apart and reforming.

And then—

Silence.

When Jinwoo returned home, he immediately sensed something was off. His senses, honed from countless battles, went on high alert. There was someone in his apartment.

A faint rustling came from his bedroom.

His shadows coiled, ready to strike, as he slowly pushed open the door—only to freeze.

There, sitting on his bed, wrapped in his blanket, was a girl.

A very, very familiar girl.

Golden eyes. Soft (H/C) hair. A slight tilt of the head that reminded him so much of—

“(Y/N)?” The name left his lips before he could stop himself.

The girl blinked, then smiled.

“Welcome home, Jinwoo.”

And just like that, his world flipped upside down.

---

Jinwoo wasn’t an easy man to shock. He had faced monsters, kings, and literal gods. But seeing his tiny, fluffy cat turn into a breathtakingly beautiful woman? Yeah, that did the trick.

For the first few hours, he could barely function. His mind kept replaying the absurdity of it. You, now human, had laughed softly at his reaction, hugging his blanket around your frame as you patiently explained.

You didn’t know how it happened, only that one moment you were a cat, and the next, you weren’t. You weren’t human either—at least, not entirely. There was something… other about you. Something ancient.

Jinwoo, despite his disbelief, couldn’t deny it. After all, he had seen far crazier things in his life.

But even as he struggled to understand, one thing remained the same.

You were still his (Y/N).

Still the one who curled up beside him when he was tired.

Still the one who looked at him with unwavering trust.

Still the one who made his lonely world feel a little warmer.

And that realization hit him harder than any battle ever had.

---

Days passed, then weeks. Jinwoo adjusted—somehow. He learned that you were just as mischievous in human form, stealing his hoodies, teasing him mercilessly, and still insisting on perching in his lap like you were still a tiny feline.

“You do realize you’re not a cat anymore, right?” he grumbled one evening, as you comfortably made yourself at home on his lap.

You grinned up at him. “Old habits die hard.”

He sighed, but his hands instinctively went to your hair, fingers combing through the soft strands. Just like before, you leaned into his touch, a content hum escaping your lips.

Jinwoo’s heart did something strange. Something dangerous.

He ignored it.

Or at least, he tried to.

But then there were the little things—the way you always waited for him to come home, the way you instinctively reached for his hand when you were nervous, the way you whispered his name like it was something precious.

And Jinwoo, the strongest Hunter in the world, found himself utterly, hopelessly weak.

One night, as you curled up beside him—just like old times—he finally gave in.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest. You stiffened slightly in surprise, before melting into his embrace.

“Jinwoo?” you murmured.

He buried his face in your hair, exhaling softly. “Stay.”

A pause. Then, a smile.

“Always.”

And with that, Jinwoo finally admitted what he had known all along.

You weren’t just a stray he had picked up.

You're no longer just his cat.

You were his home.

His love.

And he would never let you go

Till death do us part

---

The End.

[teddybeartoji]

thinking abt how oliver would pull you onto his lap whenever there isn't enough free seats when your friends come over

[sttoru]

pls pls pls 🥹 older bf! gojo fucking the attitude out of his gf

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru picks you up after your lecture to spend quality time with you, only to realise you got an attitude that needs some fixing.

tags. dom older bf!gojo x female reader. smut, pwp but also with plot. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). rough. hints of degradation. p in v -> unprotected. standing doggy. semi-public. spanking. hair pulling. name calling. creampīe. nicknames ‘princess, baby’. wc: 3.2k

“mind telling me who that was, baby?” satoru asks while he fixes his sunglasses. he pushes his hair back a little, walking beside you through campus. you had just finished your study session with a boy who’s in your statistics class. your lovely boyfriend offered to pick you up and take you back home after that.

though, despite the kind gesture, you’re still visibly stressed after revising the material. your mind is occupied with all sorts of stuff you need to know before your exam on thursday.

“just a classmate,” you respond curtly, not even looking at satoru. you’re speeding ahead of him, wanting to rush home already. you nibble on your bottom lip and your brows are furrowed due to the distress, “why do you care?”

that sentence came out harsher than you had expected it to. you don’t mean to be bitchy, but you’re under too much stress at the moment. your body reacts before you can withstand it.

satoru is silent for a few seconds. he’s surprised by the tone of voice you used. he keeps on following you, however, not letting your little comment ruin the conversation. he’s there to help you, not to make you even more upset.

which is why he tries to lighten the mood.

“oh?” satoru chuckles, his dimples showing. he easily keeps up with you, his long legs carrying him around quite fast. the white haired man pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear ever so gently, “did someone upset my little princess today?”

you don’t answer him. you’re focused on your phone, hurriedly texting your friend back while speeding past all the other students. you don’t even notice how the girls are gawking at your man—whispering about how handsome he is and who he might be.

satoru doesn’t pay them any mind. his sole goal is to gain your attention back. he frowns after his question is met with silence. the clicking of his dress shoes increases as he tries to get you to stop and face him.

“c’mon,” your boyfriend sighs and stands in front of you, stopping you to an abrupt halt. he holds your wrist tenderly yet firmly, letting you know that he wants to properly communicate with you, “y’ can’t ignore me.”

you yank your hand back, your irritated attitude visible in your actions. you look up at satoru, not caring about what he thinks or wants at the moment. you just want to go home and relax. everything is overstimulating you.

“i can and i will,” you huff before stepping aside to continue your journey out of the university’s terrain. your boyfriend’s frown only deepens. you’re not the only one who’s currently getting agitated. you push past a group of students who stood in your way, “let’s just go home.”

satoru’s eyes narrow. he doesn’t get upset fast—he rarely feels any kind of anger—but right now he can feel something itching inside of his chest. he’s tried not to let the jealousy get the best of him at first, but now with all the other emotions coming into play, it’s nearly impossible to hold himself back.

satoru considers himself a fairly mature man. he’s always been one, yet when it comes to you he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t have any control over his emotions. his body and mind act on their own.

“aht aht. not so fast, little lady.”

you suddenly feel yourself being dragged to the side. satoru’s grip around your arm isn’t harsh, but it sure is enough to make you stumble along with him. you click your teeth in slight annoyance after the initial shock settles in. you know there’s no fighting it; you don’t want others to witness your little squabble.

“hey, where are we going?” you ask, a slight whine leaving your throat. you simply want to go lay in your bed and avoid everything and everyone else. your eyes are focused on the back of satoru’s head as he guides you along. he doesn’t bother to face nor answer you.

you sigh and simply allow yourself to be dragged away. if you’re going to get a scolding, you don’t mind. you’re just going to hear him out and nod along so you can go back home faster.

you raise an eyebrow when satoru arrives at the bathroom on the second floor. “what the—” you’re confused as to what your boyfriend is trying to achieve. you quickly look around to see if anyone has seen you.

no one seems to be close. this part of the building has always been empty around this time frame anyway.

you’re pulled into the men’s bathroom after satoru made sure that the coast was clear. he gently pushes you into an empty stall and locks the door. “satoru, what’s up with you?” you sigh as you stumble back against the bathroom wall. it’s a hypocritical comment considering your own nasty attitude.

you try to push him aside, only for your boyfriend to force your arms around his neck, pulling you flush against him. your eyes lock into his and that’s when you notice how . . dark they are. the usual playful look is nowhere to be found.

“i’m just thinkin’ that y’r attitude needs some fixing, hm?” satoru whispers. a ghost of a smirk appears on his face—it’s a twisted one. wicked, with the thoughts of what he’ll do to punish you for your actions. he rarely has that expression when he’s with you.

he tips your chin up with quite some force, “i can help with that.”

everything else happens at a blink of an eye. one of satoru’s large hands slithers up your back to tangle in your hair and yank it back, exposing the column of your throat for his hickeys to take shape on. his other hand swiftly makes work of your pants and undergarments.

his jaw is clenched—the usual hint of gentle love in his eyes is replaced by lust fuelled by jealousy and frustration. satoru is not playing around either. instead of taking his time like he usually does when it comes to intimacy, he’s quick to discard both your clothing.

“fuckin’ tease,” the white-haired man mutters under his breath, panting with desire. he zips down his pants and frees his big cock from his boxers. “always pushing my buttons. isn’t that right, baby?”

satoru lets out a breathy, mocking chuckle. he fists the shaft slowly while his blue eyes roam over your body caged against him and the wall, “but i guess tha’s part of the reason why i love you—hah.”

you’re basically in shock at the sudden switch. your jaw is slack and your eyes are wide, but there’s an undeniable feeling in your chest that tells you you’re loving this change. you can’t deny the fact that you’re turned on. extremely turned on.

“‘toru, i don’t think it’s smart to do this here,” you murmur in a small voice. you’re trying to have some dignity, even now, when your panties are soaked and the scent of your obvious arousal is driving your man crazy.

“don’t care,” satoru shakes his head with a smug grin. his long fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear before flimsily tugging them down to your ankles. his eyes darken the second he sees the webs of sticky, translucent slick clinging from your panties to your puffy folds.

he grunts, his cock twitching painfully in his hand. he’s thinking of simply jerking off to the sight of you in front of him, but he decided otherwise. satoru smacks your clit with his fat tip, “should’ve thought about that before catchin’ an attitude with me.”

suddenly, he turns you around so you’re facing the wall. your nails dig into the flat surface of the tiles, catching onto nothing. you’re hoping that no one will walk into the bathroom. last thing you need is everyone knowing that you were getting your back blown out by your boyfriend on campus.

not that satoru would mind those rumors. it’d only fuel his (already) huge ego.

“oh, yeah— shit. you need this ‘s much as i do,” satoru groans as sinks his cock into your pussy, agonisingly slow, inch by inch. you shudder and hold in your moans as your velvety walls make part for him.

his hands spread your pert asscheeks, smacking the full globes before kneading them to soothe the pain. he continues in a low, dangerous voice, “you wouldn’t be so stuck up if y’ didn’t need this fuckin’ dick to shut you up.”

satoru doesn’t stop pushing in until his heavy balls are resting snugly against your bottom, warming his sack full of cum that’s aching to be released in your dripping cunt.

“ngh, ‘toru,” you bite your lip and try not to orgasm just from the feeling of being full— so full of cock that it makes you see stars, “just like that.”

the white-haired man responds with a satisfied grunt, sweat forming on his forehead from how hot and wet it is inside of you.

“oh, there she is,” satoru coos once he hears your whiny voice, that sweet voice he cherishes and loves. it isn’t cold nor avoidant anymore like before and that’s really all he wanted to acquire. he licks a stripe from the tip of your ear to the lobe, voice husky, “there’s the girlfriend i know. moan some more f’ me.”

you shiver as satoru’s lips connect with the back of your neck. after wetting the skin with his saliva, he bites. not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark. you clamp around his dick in response and he curses under his breath.

“please, fuck me,” you breathe. you need more stimulation, need him to absolutely ruin you. the shallow and slow thrusts he’s giving are nothing but torturous.

satoru grins and rests his chin on top of your shoulder, large hands rubbing around your hips and lower abdomen, teasing your clit every now and then to get you even more pent up.

“fuck you?” he tilts his head, as if contemplating. he clicks his tongue and gives your ass a firm slap that nearly sends you over the edge. “hah, you should be grateful for what i’m givin’ you.”

but satoru’s weak for you. even if he’s trying to be the ‘mean’ and ‘cold’ dominant guy. his cock is aching to plunge in and out of your wet hole, to see you come undone and feel your juices coat his balls and thighs.

“fine. i’ll fuck you,” satoru relents with a roll of his eyes, acting like he isn’t desperate for you too. he grips your hips in a bruising manner and bites your shoulder, “—fuck you like the brat you are.”

your hands save your face from making contact with the wall as your body suddenly jostles back and forth in a speed you can’t even process.

“satoru!” you nearly scream his name out of pure surprise. the pleasure comes crashing down in waves, your pussy uncontrollably spasming around his girthy cock.

satoru grumbles something incoherent as he pistons his hips, ramming in your sloppy cunt while his eyes are fixated on your bouncing ass. white locks of hair stick to his forehead as he splits you open on his dick.

“so pretty,” the older man sighs. he turns your head sideways so you can look him in the eyes while he fucks you silly. he caresses your cheek gently, a contrast to the mocking grin on his lips and the rough thrusts against your ass, “too bad y’ got such a potty mouth on you.”

satoru pushes his index and middle finger between your lips to muffle your noises, “…but don’t worry, i’ll fix that for you. gladly.”

you eagerly suck on them between quick gasps of air, saliva trickling down his hand. your boyfriend redoubles his efforts, the fat tip of his dick hitting that special spot deep inside you.

his free hand reaches down to circle your clit. the double stimulation sends you into a state of pure bliss. your pupils are dilated as you struggle to find satoru’s gaze, head lolling back and forth with each powerful stroke.

perhaps this really was all you needed to help destress and forget all about your responsibilities. it feels good to not think about anything at all— your head empty except for the feeling of your cunt being filled.

satoru’s cock twitches inside of you with the urge to release a load in your womb. “give me it, please,” your voice is muffled as you plead with him. your hand sneaks downwards, trying to find his balls, “w-want your cum.”

your fingers toy with his sack once you find it. his pre-cum and your own juices now coat your skin as well, your hand enclosing around his balls, massaging them. it’s like you’re trying to coax his potent semen out of them and that alone makes satoru throw his head back in ecstasy.

“little cumslut. . .” satoru growls, brows furrowing as he tries not to shoot his cum inside of your greedy cunt right that second. the hand that was keeping you quiet quickly snatches your wrist and pins it against the bathroom wall.

“are you that desperate to get filled? yeah?” your boyfriend huffs, not stopping to catch his breath at all. his hips pound faster against your ass with renewed passion.

your lips are parted and they move, but not a single answer comes out of your mouth. you’re unable to think or talk because of the pleasure.

satoru takes that as a yes. the erotic sight of you being so lost in sin is enough to fuel his desire to fuck you harder. his hips never falter as he scoffs at your pathetic self, “tch, so addicted to my cock y’ can’t even answer me.”

you shake your head and search for your words. however, you fail, and all that you’re capable of communicating is what you need, “fuuuuck, yes i am—‘toru, need your cock ‘n cum— more.”

satoru lets go of your wrist to grab your jaw. he forces your head back again before he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. his tongue plunders inside your mouth, exploring every inch.

he pulls back to gasp for air and releases your jaw with a slight shove to grab your hips again. “more? hah,” the white-haired man lets out a haughty chuckle. he gives a particular hard thrust against your butt, tip kissing your cervix painfully yet deliciously, “y’ think you deserve more after that shit you pulled?”

satoru yanks your head back by your hair. the stinging sensation makes your scalp itchy, but it also increases your pleasure. he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice dangerously low, “nah, you gotta make this work.”

you could. you can make it work and that’s the truth. he could fuck you with just his tip and you’d be able to cum a couple times in a row.

jolts of pleasure run down your spine as satoru drives into you harder, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. you’re seeing stars and the words roll off your tongue, “please, mhh, almost there!”

satoru groans. he can feel the delicious fluttering of your cunt around his cock, the telltale signs of an orgasm building. he has half a mind to pull out completely and let you writhe and beg him some more.

he contemplates it for a few seconds. the second your eyes start to roll back, signaling your impending climax, his cock slips out of your pussy. you whine and push your hips back in search for his dick- to fill the void he left.

satoru jerks himself off at the pitiful sight. he rubs his veiny shaft between your slick folds before slapping the tip against your cunt, letting it catch onto your entrance for a few times.

“begging like that isn’t going to get you anywhere. y’ can do better,” your boyfriend encourages in a sultry tone. one of his hands rest on your tummy, fingers splaying over your clothed skin. another filthy smack of his tip against your slit makes you shiver, “come on.”

you bite your lip out of frustration. you arch your back each time the fat head of his cock catches onto your gaping hole, hoping to slip it in, but you can't. you tilt your head back and lock eyes with satoru close up behind you.

“please let me cum, 'toru. i'll be good, i promise,” you beg with a lewd pleading expression. one that make satoru's balls tighten with the urge to cum as well.

with a low groan, satoru snaps his hips forward, burying his dick inside of you once more, “there ya go. good girl, knew y’ had it in you.”

the praise and familiar feeling of his dick stretching you open is enough to push you over the edge. you nearly black out as your cunt spasms around him, your juices gushing out to coat his length and balls.

satoru grits his teeth once he feels your tight cunt clench viciously around his throbbing cock. your orgasm has a domino effect on your lover, causing him to hastily chase his own release. “shit! take it, princess. take it all inside this greedy fuckin' cunt,” he hisses and grinds his pelvis against the fat of your ass.

satoru buries himself to the hilt before his cock jerks and pulses, emptying his balls deep inside of you. his fingers dig into the meat of your butt, holding you in place as he grinds against you, making sure every last drop of his seed is nestled into your waiting womb.

“there y’ go, mhm—taking my load so deep,” your lover sighs and lowers his head, resting against your back. he hugs you tightly to his chest while you both catch your breath. he rides out his orgasm slowly, still grinding against you while he leaves lazy kisses on your nape.

a minute passes before you've regained your composure, somewhat. you smile as satoru kisses your temple lovingly, praising you for taking him so well. the switch back to his usual gentleman personality is much needed after such an intense moment.

“thank you, babe. i needed that,” you giggle as you rest back against his chest. thick, pearly globs of cum escape your pussy, dripping around his cock and onto your thighs, but neither of you could care less. the clean up is a problem for later.

satoru chuckles back at you as he leaves another loving kiss against your cheek. “i knew you did,” he murmurs and pets your head, “my poor girl has been working so hard on her assignments, hm? poor, poor baby.”

you playfully roll your eyes at the overexaggerated concern in your lover's voice, however you appreciate it.

satoru doesn't bother to pull out. first things first; he needs to get you all comfortable again and give you the aftercare you deserve. his hands massage your hips as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, acting all lovey-dovey like he hasn't just shown you a more dominant side of him.

“how ‘bout we go home and order some food? we can cuddle and watch a movie together, ‘kay? i’ll take care of you, princess.”

[baurem]

cw: children, bakugo being a tired dad and then some wc: 604

with the soft patter of small feet and the door’s hinges quietly crying as it was pushed open, you feigned sleep. through ajar lids, in peeked your mixture of love, your husband and your own affections personified into something you both cradled and loved undoubtedly.

biting back a grin, you listened for the shuffling of your bedsheets as your daughter forcefully settled in between the spooning position that bakugo held you in. 

“papa..” your three year old called out in a whisper, her palm lightly tapped his cheek.  still in his drowsy in between, bakugo hummed roughly to let her know he was listening. 

“move over..” she whined as she pushed his shoulder to create more space for herself

“no, i was here first.” bakugo’s tongue languid with sleep but unmoving to your daughter’s attempts.

her little lips pursed like yours and her brows furrowed like his as she conceived a way to convince her hard-headed father to move. she turned her body to you, preparing to wake you up until a large hand interrupted her. 

“no, don’ wake y’er mama up.” his voice mellowed by fatherhood and patience. katsuki’s daughter turned with a pout at his whispered chiding, the same one he often wore against you.

  still, even while unconscious and in his grasp, he sought to preserve your sleep though there wasn’t a need for it (not that he should know). 

he lured her back with his hand splayed out on her tummy which earned yet another whine from her as she sat back into the tight space between you and your husband. 

she stared back with a disgruntled expression he knew all too well; cheeks puffed up, eyes narrowed that were still swollen with sleep, and a deep frown all at the lack of space her father provided. 

katsuki stared back, now more awake than before, but still just as adamant and stubborn as the red-eyed girl before him. 

“gotta use your manners if ya wanna be here.” 

after a beat of contemplation, your daughter spoke up, “papa..?”

“hm?” katsuki hummed, attentive.

“can you— can you pleeaase move over?” she asked, softer as to not disturb her mother. 

katsuki deemed it good enough since it was too early in the morning for a lesson. abiding by her plea, he shifted over which opened up the space for his little one. 

“mm.. thank you.” his daughter murmured as she squirmed into her place under the sheets and between her parents. 

katsuki hummed in a quiet response. his attention on the way her eyes fought sleep, nestled in the warmth and scent of her parents. once he’s sure she’s asleep, his attention shifts over to you.

“were you going to help at all?” he huffs. 

“i knew you had it.” you toss over to gaze to your family with a sapped grin at his discovery of your consciousness; your husband furrowed his brows at you like your little girl would when she didn’t get what she wanted and your daughter’s face squished on the pillow like his would whenever he came home from a long patrol.

katsuki saw you too in that moment, you think; with her hair disheveled in the mornings just like yours would be and the light snoring from her— the snoring you both vehemently denied though he insisted on it. 

he must’ve also been feeling that same swell in your chest too, the overflowing of love seeping out of your chest and into your throat. the kind of feeling that only mornings like these could bring out of you both; you, your husband, and the whole of you both combined snuggled in bed together.

“you always do.” 

[himbodruid]

A Dragon In Rut

What happens when you stumble upon a dragon experiencing rut for the first time?

A short Dragon!Sylus x Reader/you oneshot

Breeding kink | knotting | scent kink

Intended for 18+ readers only MINORS DNI

Read the companion piece here!

Borrowed some lines from Secret Times 😏

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been some time since you and Sylus became close, even longer since you first met him. Days blended together when the only sense of sunlight you got were from various chutes in the cavern ceilings that allowed for airflow, so you weren't exactly sure how long it had been. The two of you became quite the pair of criminals, and thinking of the previous raid brought a satisfied smile to your face.

Dust motes danced in and out of the sun beams, giving the cavern you declared as your chambers a whimsical feeling. Richly coloured tapestries hung from the walls, adding a sense of warmth and life to your space. The fiend, Sylus, had even offered you treasures from his own hoard to decorate your space with. You had come to love the freedom that this network of caverns offered you. And you found yourself quite fond of the dragon that occupied another set of chambers.

Sylus was usually asleep at times like this, when the sun was high and bright. You found yourself mimicking his sleep schedule out of convenience, but something had awoken you and curiosity had gotten the best of you.

When you left your chamber, however, something in the air shifted. You didn’t know what it was, but it was off. Charged. Your pulse quickened as you sought out Sylus, worrying for his well being in the chaotic atmosphere that interrupted the usual calm.

You found him, not by sight, but by sound in his own chamber. As you brushed the tapestries that covered his doorway aside, a feral snarl reverberated from within.

“Sylus?” You questioned, stopping your advance at the sound.

“Leave,” was all he said, his voice strained and more beast-like than usual.

“Is everything okay?” You hazard a step into the dimly lit room. A hiss and a groan greeted you.

“If you know what’s best for you, Kitten, you will leave right now.” His voice was pained and leaving was the last thing you wanted.

“Are you hurt?” Another step forward.

Then all at once, you found yourself pinned to the wall by his bulk, a growl rumbling from his chest. You caught a glimpse of his face as the light from the entrance was snuffed out by the tapestries. His pupils were dilated and his face flushed, and you furrowed your brows in concern.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong, you’re worrying me,” you say, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He made a sound like a barely restrained groan as he turned his face into your touch, inhaling deeply. That fiendish tail of his lashed out behind him, swinging to and fro- much like an agitated cat.

“You shouldn’t be here,” was all he said in reply.

And yet, he leaned into you instead of letting you go. You felt him bury his nose in your neck.

“Your scent…I want it. Steamy and sweet…like cherry wine,” he murmured, his mouth finding your pulse.

“S-Sylus, what..” you stammer, incapable of forming coherent thought thanks to the heat of his tongue rolling so, so sensually against your neck. It was clear that he wasn’t in his right mind, trapped under some spell, but you couldn’t push him away. Instead you wanted, needed him closer.

A sound resembling a purr rumbled from his chest when your hand cupped the back of his head and you tilted your chin up for him. His mouth traveled the expanse of your neck, leaving biting kisses in his wake. Your heart thundered in your chest and an involuntary shiver shuddered through you.

“You should have run away when you had the chance,” he growled, hauling you up against the hard planes of his well-sculpted body. He carried you to a pile of blankets that rested atop a goose-down filled pad.

As he laid you down in his nest, you were consumed by him. That smokey scent of him surrounded you, his body crowded you. All thoughts fled as you were immersed in his very essence. You clung to him, even as his mouth traveled down your body. Taloned hands were surprisingly adept at removing your simple clothing, and the groan he released when you laid bare beneath him went straight to your core.

His hungry gaze roamed your figure, darkening with desire as it finally landed on the apex of your thighs. His nostrils flared, taking in your scent, your arousal.

“Last chance, Kitten.” His crimson eyes found yours again, awaiting your final consent. You hadn’t fought him thus far, but he held himself back once more to give you a chance to run away, to deny him what he so clearly wanted.

But you shook your head, hooking your legs around his hips to keep him from leaving you. He grinned a devilish grin and stooped over you to seal the agreement with a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, wrestling with your own for space. Your moans were met with growls of his own. And when you were beginning to feel light headed, he finally removed himself from you.

“I’ll start with your warmest spot…” he murmured against your skin as he trailed those stinging kisses down your body. “And until I’m finished, you’re not allowed to stop me.”

And then the heat of his mouth overwhelmed your cunt as he plunged his tongue against your flesh. When you tried to squirm from the sensation, his taloned hands held you fast. All you could do was sink your hands into that damnably silky hair of his and announce your pleasure to the room. He worked you up so quickly that you crashed over the edge before you even had a chance to think. His name tumbled from your lips like a prayer, even as his teeth scraped against your inner thigh.

His chuckle was deep and raspy and he lazily reclaimed his spot atop you. You didn’t know when it had occurred, but what little clothing he wore was discarded and the length of him pressed solid against your belly. With one hand occupied by holding your wrists together above your head, he hooked a leg over his free arm and pressed you hard into his bedding. His hips ground against you as that obnoxiously enticing purring sound reverberated through the cavern once more.

“You’re all mine,” he growled into your ear before positioning himself at your entrance. You briefly worried about how in the world a man as large as him would fit into such a petite woman as yourself, but all thoughts and fears fled the moment he breached you.

“S-Sy-“ you whimpered into his mouth as he sought to distract you from any discomfort. His body trembled with the effort of holding back. Breaths came short as he fully sheathed himself into you, his gasping pants feathering at your neck as he fought to give you time to adjust to his girth. Despite the effort, his hips still jerked forward.

“Hell, love. How do you feel this damn good?” He whined against your chest as he dropped his head down. The trembling in his body increased tenfold as his internal war continued.

The deepest, guttural moan escaped from him as soon as you lifted your hips in a silent signal to proceed. That moan turned into a possessive growl as he shifted his hips, pulling and pushing from your oh-so-willing body. You longed to cling to him, but he still held fast to your wrists.

Feeling mischievous, your mouth found his throat and you scraped your teeth against his flesh. He surprised you by baring his neck to you with a moan, and so you bit down on that corded muscle at the slope of his shoulder. The same place he marked you however many days ago.

At that simple action, it was like a damn broke loose. A heated snarl erupted from him and his hips pistoned in and out at a pace that would be punishing if it didn’t feel so fucking good. Your voice rose to join his as his cock brought you to such a swift climax, it had you reeling.

Even as your walls pulsed around him, he didn’t stop. Indeed, it felt like his pace actually sped up as he mindlessly chased a release that seemed to evade him. You felt as though the moment one orgasm was over, he drove you right into another one. His name fell from your lips with reckless abandon and he buried his face into your neck once more.

But this time was different. His movements seemed deliberate, almost as if he was…what? You weren’t sure how to describe his action, but it was almost as if it was some sort of primal instinct to mark you with his scent.

And there was something else happening.

As he drove himself into you over and over again, you could feel something at the base of his cock…almost like some sort of bulge was forming? You weren’t at all familiar with the anatomy of his kind, so you couldn’t be sure what to expect.

“Sylus, what?” You tried to question, your brain unable to form the full question.

“Mine,” he growled. His voice had taken on that feral tone he had once used with you to try and scare you away. He finally released your wrists to loop his arm under your free leg, practically folding you in half while he pumped into you relentlessly. All you could do was cling to him and ride out the pleasure he continued to build.

And then it happened. You weren’t really sure what “it” was, but that strange bulge at the base of his cock all but locked him to you as he thrust hard into you one final time. His moaning cries filled the cavern as he threw his head back and you felt his cock twitch and pulse inside of you, the sensation being enough to push you over the edge again with him.

And you figured that would be the end of it, a beautiful connection with this incredible being.

But his hips remained locked with yours. He nuzzled into your neck, that purring sound emanating from him again. The smallest of thrusts was all the movement he was granted by the knot, but the tugging sensation elicited sparks of pleasure that coursed through you. You whimpered into his ear as you lifted your hips to meet his with each nudge.

Then, almost as if taken over by his instincts once more, his hips whipped forward and he plunged so impossibly deep into you that you didn’t know where he ended and you began. His cock twitched and more hot ropes of cum flooded you while he moaned against your skin. It dragged you into an abrupt climax, almost as if his own orgasm was some sort of switch for yours.

It happened several more times: he would relax his hips for a moment, only to violently thrust forward again and cum so explosively that you couldn’t help but follow him over the edge. But finally, after what felt like ages, that knot appeared to subside.

Sylus slumped against you, placing soft kisses against your skin. You were exhausted from the ordeal, barely awake as he shifted you to the side. You couldn’t even work up the energy to feel embarrassed as he cleaned you up, taking great care to be gentle with you.

Shortly thereafter, you fell into the deepest sleep you ever experienced while wrapped in his warm embrace.

—

That night, after the two of you woke from your shared slumber, Sylus had the good consciousness to blush at the behaviour he exhibited. He laid beside you, head propped up on a hand while the other traced feather-light swirling patterns on your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have never personally experienced a rut before and didn’t have the willpower to send you away.”

You smiled at him, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes. “Is this something that dragons experience?”

“Mmh,” he said, thinking about how to reply in a way you would understand. “It is a mating instinct that all dragons experience, yes. Usually the worst of the urges are able to be subdued enough to still function. But when your scent hit me, it was like I was possessed.”

“And what was the..thing that happened towards the end?” You asked, not sure what to call the strange bulge that kept him locked to your body.

“In your tongue, it would be called a knot. When a dragon finds his mate, that is usually how they are claimed. I…don’t really know how to describe it, since I’ve never experienced it before.”

“Hmm, does that make me your mate, then?”

His gaze softened at your question and that lopsided smile you so loved played across his face. Instead of answering with words, he leaned down and kissed you thoroughly.

“Mmh. I rather enjoy my scent being intertwined with yours.”

[http-tokki]

have you ever tried this one?

and it’s just you ontop of viktor

look, i’m not saying he hasn’t fucked (look at him, he has had partners before but never like you, never someone who puts his pleasure before their own) so when you slide a pillow beneath his hips and make sure he is comfy over everything else, oh how his heart stutters in his chest. Viktor already looks at you like you hold the universe in your hands but as you perch yourself above him, hands braced on either side of his head as you grind your sopping cunt over his cock before sinking down on his aching length, he swears you begin to fade into starlight. the edges of his vision blurs as heat blooms in his stomach, pure indulgent undiluted ecstasy fills his veins and tingles in the tips of his fingers. mans is TRANSFIXED on the sight before him as your hips begin to move, slick dripping down your thighs in pearls of opalescent blue in the lowlight of the hexcore (the cot that had been set up in the corner of the lab for when he is too tired to go back to his room has been getting a little more action that it had originally been intended for) Viktor has no idea where to put his hands, what to grab or how hard to hold so you guide his hands to your hips, squeezing his fingers beneath your own before settling your palms on his chest. his heart thumps beneath your skin in a steady rhythm, his breaths shallow as his body adjusts to pleasure coursing through his veins.

“are you okay? nothing hurts?” you’re quick to check in, brows furrowed as your eyes slip down the pillow beneath his hips.

he nods, pushing his head back into the plush cushions as you tense your muscles, squeezing him so deliciously tight he might pass out.

“don’t worry about me, love. just-“ words fail him as his breathing turns ragged, your hips grinding in slow circles above his. “fuck…i-“

Viktor has always been quick of wit, a retort poised on the tip of his tongue at all times but as you begin to drag your hips up and down, cunt sliding over his pulsing cock in slow strokes that has his jaw slackening and eyes rolling, the concept of language leaves him entirely. for a moment it’s as if it is his first time all over again. awkward hands and quick breaths, unable to tear his eyes away from your perfect form as you bounce and grind above him. it’s cute, how innocent he looks beneath you, how bright his cheeks blaze, how red his lips bloom as he bites on the flesh.

“you’ve never done this?” your question is breathless, cheat tightening as the angle has your stomach twisting.

Viktor shakes his head, afraid that if he opens his mouth it would be nothing but whimpers and moans.

“do you feel good?”

another wordless answer in the form of a nod and he thinks he has retained some sense of dignity for the time being, but as you tense your muscles again, his mouth opens and his answer is a whimper.

your body stills above him as your brain registers the sound that has just spilt from your lover’s mouth.

“did you just- was that-?”

“shut up. This is a new thing for me,” Viktor grumbles but he can’t stop the grin that has spread over his cheeks. his hand reaches for your, wrapping around the nape of your neck to pull your face to his. “no one’s ever treated me like this. I can’t expect to know how I might react.”

a/n: pls be nice this is my first arcane fic i just love viktor so much gimmie a hair tie, a pillow for his hips and five minutes i’ll show piltover the real arcane

[q1ngqve]

ᝰ VIP ROOM !

✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ 𓂅 the penacony grand theater cordially invites you to V.I.P. room 2 this friday evening for a musical!

CW; fem! reader x penacony men (separated), vaginal penetration, fingering, slight degradation & voyeurism, vibrator, bondage, ‘daddy’ (only for gallagher)

𐙚 AVENTURINE

your gasps ring in his ears as he slides one of your leg onto his lap, spreading you apart effortlessly. his grip on your thigh is tight and steady, clearly having no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

snuggled next to him on the sofa, you feel his arm draped around you, holding both your wrists together, and smirking when you squirm to reach for your dress.

your eyes dart to his face, observing his furrowed brows and the angry smirk as he stares back into your eyes, clear jealousy written in those colourful irises. he leans in close, lips just inches apart from yours, and you feel his breathing turn erratic as his eyes darken, "you love teasing me, don't you?"

"I was just saying hi to an old friend..."

"did you not see the way he looked at you?"

your head shakes cautiously, nails digging softly into your own skin, "m' sorry." aventurine pecks you on your lips, the glossy lipstick staining his own in the process.

another whimper sounds as his gloved fingers slide under your thighs, the soft pads of his black gloves resting snugly against your clothed, pulsing nub. his smirk reappears when the wetness soaks through your panties and onto his gloves, soft squelching sounds reverberate in the VIP room.

your head falls against his shoulder, wrists still bound by his hand, legs spread and trembling on his lap. your boyfriend teases at your earlobes, nipping at the tender skin, sending shivers down your spine with each bite.

his deft fingers slides under your panties, and you hear him chuckle into your ear at how drenched you are for him, making it so easy for his two fingers to slip right into your warm hole.

"who do you belong to, hmm?"

he releases your wrists, the now free hand reaching up to your throat, pulling you closer to his face again.

"—you."

"good girl."

the air gets knocked out of your chest as he pushes you onto the sofa, his fingers still pumping and curling in your pussy harshly, his pace only increasing with each cry of his name you let out.

an embarrassing squelch sounds as he removes them, and you whine at the empty feeling inside you, the ring of muscle clenching at nothing as your hands reach for his nape.

"please— need you so bad..." a satisfied hum leaves him as he leans down to kiss your forehead, pushing his fingers in again without warning at the same time. your legs tense, and your toes curl, a loud moan escaping you, only to get muffled by him stuffing your dress into your mouth.

"all of this," his lips latch onto your neck as they suckle on the sensitive spots, "is for me," littering them with beautiful hickeys that he'll admire later on, "and me only." the musical on stage turning into background noise.

𐙚 BOOTHILL

boothill grunts into your dripping pussy as your fingers pull on the roots of his hair, tugging both away and towards your core, uncertain if you want more or to escape this torment.

"stay still, sweetheart."

a soft "can't—" escapes you, making him cock an eyebrow, his mouth never stopping, licking and sucking at your puffy clit. the silent command from his eyes has you tensing your thighs as his grip tightens, and you're sure his metal fingers will leave marks there tomorrow.

moans of his name fill the room as he frees on hand to slide under your dress and up to your chest, the cool metal wrapping around your boob comfortably. your body shrinks as he plays with the soft bundle of nerves, thumb and pointer finger pinching at your nipple occasionally, making your pussy clench.

his eyes roll to the back of his head the moment his tongue dips into your warm core, your juices and gummy walls sending his engine into overdrive. you swear if he were in a cartoon, there'd be smoke coming out of his back right now.

"pretty girl tastes so (fucking) good." hums when your legs clench around his head, "all this, just for me."

your eyes water as you come undone on his tongue. the sound of fans whirring before you drags you back to reality as he stands, flipping you around so that you're kneeling on the sofa with your hands on the backrest.

whines leave you as he flips your dress up and tears your panties easily. the familiar feeling of cool metal dick has you lying limp on the backrest, your hips involuntarily grinding back against him.

"eager, aren't we?"

muffled whimpers sound from you as you bury your face into the cushions, knowing that you'll be making extremely embarrassing sounds the moment he enters you.

a loud groan escapes boothill as he slides into you, the cool, hard metal of his dick a clear contrast to your soft, warm, and inviting walls, wrapping around him like a vice.

his hand slips around your mouth to cover up your obscene sounds as he pounds into you, unable to contain his hunger any longer. you're now locked in a position that allows him to manhandle and control you easily, body fully limp and putty in his arms, just the way he likes.

𐙚 DR. RATIO

a small smile adorns your lips as you stare straight ahead, looking out at the balcony and onto the stage where the musical is happening, clearly avoiding eye contact with your boyfriend who's burning holes through your head.

your hand inches up his thigh, nails scraping slightly with each movement, your own legs clench whenever you feel his muscles tense beneath the pads of your fingers.

an audible sigh could be heard from him when you palm him through his pants, a clear bulge forming under your hand, making your smile bigger. "someone's excited."

"shut up."

you giggle softly as your fingers wrap around the bulge, while your pointer finger draws slow circles on his clothed tip, a dark spot forming slowly on his pants from his arousal.

you yelp suddenly when you feel yourself stand and be placed into a forceful position. your elbows scrape on the table beneath you as you trying your best to stand steady on your legs all the while looking over your shoulder, a teasing smile on your face.

"what? can't take it already?"

ratio's eyes narrow at your comment before pushing down on the small of your back, making your body press harder onto the cold table surface.

something changes in the air when he huffs a laugh, his hands now gripping at your hips, holding you in place as he starts dry humping against you. he leans down, caging you beneath him as he slides one knee between your legs, and you know, you're in danger.

you squirm in his hold, hips inching forward, digging into the edge of the table, trying your best to run away, your fight or flight kicking in, knowing he isn't going to go easy on you for teasing him.

he pulls you back harshly, so hard you stumble back into his chest. "where do you think you're going?" this wipes the smirk off your face.

you shudder when he kisses down your nape to your shoulder blades, and all you could do was hold your breath, praying that he's not going to be too rough on you as punishment.

you could feel the smugness from the man behind you as he pulls himself out and slides into your panties, coating himself with your wetness, the tip sliding against your clit with each thrust.

now you're the one biting back moans, hands reaching backward to claw at his wrists, an indication that you want him to fuck you. ratio chuckles at your feeble attempt to command him, and he leans down again, this time nearer to your ear, never stopping his movements, sliding against your folds harshly.

"this is for fucking with me when you know you can't handle my teasing."

𐙚 GALLAGHER

as the curtains shut behind the two of you, you trip down the steps, pulling gallagher by his tie. your heels coming off with each step towards the display shelf at the side of the VIP room.

your grip on him strong, like a leash, leading the man before you to collide against your soft body as you lean on the shelf. one strap of your dress slips down your shoulder, a testament to your impatience to feel him against you.

gallagher's hands land on either side of your head, trapping you between the shelf and his body. the sheer size of this man completely envelops you, providing cover if anyone were to look for you behind him.

a giggle escapes you as he kisses your jaw and down to your collarbone. "couldn't wait till we got home?"

your head shakes as you bit your lower lip softly, head tilting upwards, silently inviting him to kiss you. he ignores your request, choosing instead to plant a sweet kiss on your forehead as he runs his hands along the curves of your body, eventually resting on your waist and hip.

you whine when he doesn't kiss you where you want him too, "just wanna feel you, daddy. please?" his smug smile widens at your plea before he pulls your lower body against his own, his bulge resting comfortably on your lower stomach.

"keep it down, okay? they're still out there."

you nod, and a soft " good girl" from him weakens your knees as you relax against his hold, allowing his hands to bunch your dress upwards, freeing himself from his restraints.

your gasps are swallowed by his hot mouth against yours, his thrusts slow and deliberate. your toes dig into the carpeted floor beneath you at the stretch. everything feels heightened knowing that the attendants outside the room could intrude any second and see this filthy scene adds to the pleasure.

gallagher pulls back, panting softly as he angles himself to your g-spot, only to kiss you harshly again, muffling your moans with his tongue. the mind-numbing sensations has you cumming around him almost instantly. you fall limp against him, but he doesn't give you a chance to rest, before propping you up and wrapping your legs around his waist, pounding into you roughly, chasing his own high this time.

"filthy little girl, moaning my name like that. you want them to catch us, don't you?"

𐙚 SUNDAY

a clear look of fear appears in your eyes as your back hits the wall next to the balcony, knowing you have nowhere else to run from the man standing before you.

sunday smiles as he approaches you, his hands reaching for the rope that controls the curtains' movements. "what're you planning to do with that?" the shakiness in your voice betrays you as you try to feign confidence, tilting your chin up slightly as your last resort to prove that you're not scared.

with a flourish, sunday twirls the golden rope in his gloved hands before yanking on it sharply, swiftly closing the balcony curtain. the dimly lit room takes on a more intimate aura as he reaches for your wrists, brushing his lips against them softly like a gentleman, although his eyes betray a predatory gleam that sends your knees weak.

"tug on it, and the whole grand theater will see you."

confusion flickers across your face at his warning, until you feel the bind of your wrists by the very rope he held.

drawing you closer by your waist, sunday twirls you around to face the deep red curtains as he slips his hand under your dress, inserting something cool into your heated core. a soft buzz sounds between your legs, causing you to instinctively lurch forward.

"sunday—!"

he silences your protest with a soft shush, his hands teasing your chest and clit while his hot mouth leaves hickeys on your neck. your arms remained raised slightly, fighting the urge to tug on the rope, knowing the consequences if the curtains do part.

soft cries leave your trembling lips as he increases the speed with a click of the remote in his pocket. leaning back against him, your body surrender fully, giving him full access to your body.

[strwberri-milk]

Maybe this is a bit angsty but could I request the LADS men’s (or just Sylus’s) reaction when reader randomly, casually says in a conversation, ‘Well you’re probably not gonna stick around with me in the future anyway’ (so in short, they think they’re temporary).

Zayne's attention snaps to you so quickly you would have thought you told him you're experiencing a cardiac event. He takes a second to process the words, brows furrowing as he asks you why you'd say something like that. His reaction is so visceral you can't help but laugh awkwardly, asking him what he means by that. The confusion tinged with something unreadable and sad hurts his heart, wondering if he hasn't made it clear enough that he's madly in love with you and only you.

He falls silent, pondering your words and his own actions. Has he not been affectionate enough with you? Has he not been obvious enough about how in love he is with you? You start to squirm, usually used to his thoughtful pauses but the tension rising in the air has you suffocating.

Eventually he tells you that you're going to be stuck with him for quite a while because he doesn't intend on giving you up that easily. He cups your face in his hands, telling you that you're the most precious thing to him in the world and he's going to love you until his dying breath, then past that. The confession is quite intense especially since he just looks very intense for the most part so it steals your breath away before Zayne pushes air right back into your lungs with a desperate kiss.

Xavier immediately tells you off, raising a brow as he asks why you think he wouldn't be there in the future. He's spent so many years yearning for your warmth - it seems blasphemous to him not to stay with you until the universe tears you apart and then some. You see the hurt in his eyes immediately, trying to backtrack as he asks you if you really thought he'd leave.

He takes your hands in his gently, taking a palm to cup his cheek as he nuzzles into your warmth, looking up at you with those baby blues that seem to tempt you to fall into them as he repeats the question. Your words are dry in your throat as you look away, his hand coming up to tilt your face back to look at him.

He swears his life to you again, peppering your hand in kisses as he speaks. If you had any doubts about his feelings for you before there's no way you can now, not with the way his voice settles around you. He solidifies his feelings for you, devoting his entire being to you in the quiet space between the two of you.

Rafayel is totally unamused, brushing your comment off as a joke. He fully thinks you're just trying to get under his skin, teasing him because that's the sort of relationship that the two of you have. When you don't respond with your usual enthusiasm he looks at you with a scrutinizing gaze. His lips press together as he starts to realise that you were serious, rolling his eyes as he pulls you against his chest.

He's shaking, thinly veiled anger running through his veins. He isn't really mad at you, but it would be wrong to say that he isn't at the same time. He doesn't understand why you'd think something like that, under the belief that he's made it very clear that he's in love with you and only you. I mean, have you seen him in a room with other people when they aren't you?

His words are soft in your ear, the quietest hint of a threat in them as he asks if you're serious. Nothing about this was temporary, about his feelings for you were fading. They never did and they never could, not even if he fell to his knees and begged for someone to take them from him. He's built on the anger of a dead civilsation and the inability to do anything but love you, telling you that even if you try to leave him he'll just wait until you're ready for him again.

Sylus doesn't even stop what he's doing, chuckling softly at the notion. He thinks you're joking, unable to fathom that you're fully serious in thinking that he won't be sticking around. You feel a little upset at how easily he brushes you off, deciding that you're done for the day as you fall silent. He notices that right away, looking up at you and beckoning for you to crawl into his lap. If you refuse to he'll simply come over and pull you into his lap without question, telling you to repeat yourself.

You repeat the statement, now more unsure of yourself since he's staring at you intently. You can see the slight quirk of his lips, his smirk making your heart beat a little faster as you tell him that whatever the two of you have isn't serious. He laughs at the notion, shaking his head as he cups your face in his hands. He takes in every detail of your face, sighing softly as he buries his face into your neck, peppering kisses as he shakes his head.

He doesn't know what to say, the words all caught in his throat as he holds you. You don't need him to say anything though, the desperate way he clings to your body and his lips muttering the beginnings of words just to abandon them convincing you more with every passing second that he's going to love you until the end of time.

[kamitv]

Gojo Satoru is a sensitive man.

This can't be stressed enough.

Look at the damn man, with no sense of person space ever-- of course he gets touch deprived one second after your hand leaves his body.

Yes, he folds and melts under your touch, he can't help himself. He's always touching others but for some reason, when you touch him, he realizes how fucking good it feels.

And yes, it's stimulating just to be touched by you. You could poke him in his arm and he's cracking that big smile of his at you, moving to grab your arm and tug you toward him so that he can kiss you. Then there's just something about how you are in the shower with him.

It rare that he gets to be in the bathroom with you as, you typically try your best to lock him out and use that as your time to escape him for a minute or two but when he finally gets the yes to shower with you...

Oh he's over the fucking moon about it. Smiling from ear to ear as he steps into the shower with you, eyes feasting all over your naked body and big hands quick to touch you as if it were second nature.

What he doesn't quite expect is for you to touch him too, more than normal. Your fingers are on his arms, feeling his biceps, trailing down, smiling to yourself at the bulky fiancé you've managed to acquire.

Gojo can't help but peer down at you, watching water slide down your body, cock twitching and springing up at the initial contact of your fingertips on him. He lets out a breathy little chuckle at himself too, not understanding how he's so sensitive to you.

Then your hands were sliding up and his cock was dripping, his hands frozen on your body as he didn't even know what to do with you just yet. You rarely ever take the lead with him so this was surprising.

And then your arms are around his neck and you're kissing him, tits pressed up against his chest and your entire body so fucking soft against him. He never wants to let you go, and he probably won't-- at least not for tonight, you'll be lucky if you get a second to breathe after pulling this little stunt.

Despite you doing nothing more then showing simple affection with a loving hug and kiss, he's... feral, lips pressing into yours, groan leaving his throat, body pushing yours back and up against the wall in an instant.

Huffing a messy, "Y'know what you do t'me?" Into your mouth as his hands finally figure out what the hell to do, slipping up and down your body, grabbing and tugging anything and everything.

Gojo would smack your ass just to hear you hum into his mouth, smiling at your reactions before you shockingly sink your fingers up into his hair and pull, yanking his head back and breaking the kiss just to earn a filthy little moan from him.

"Satoru." You utter sternly, "I didn't say you could shower with me so you could ruin me," You huff.

He smiles down at you, his hair still firmly held in your hand and his cock twitching all over because of it, "H-Hahh... Why else did ya' invite me in here, then? To stare at you? Plus..." He swallows heavily, "You started touchin' me first."

"Yes but I expect you to have at least a little self control."

His brows furrow, "Self-control? Never heard of her." Is the last thing he says before his hands are up at your face, holding you in his palms before he pushes forward and his lips sink into yours again.

And you groan against him but he just swallows it up, a whine leaving his throat as your tongue pushes against him. Again, it’s rare that you take the lead so when you’re standing here trying to fight your tongue into his mouth and your nails are scraping against his scalp—he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Then you smile against him and that's when he, again, loses his mind a bit. This time, Gojo's crouching down a little, grabbing a hold of one of your legs and lifting before he hooks his arm under it to hold you properly.

The next thing you feel as you explore the depths of his mouth is his cock graze your entrance, the feeling making your lips stutter against him.

To which Gojo smirks, "Don't get nervous, sweetheart," He utters against your lips.

You groan and your brows furrow, "M'not nervous," You argue back.

"You're right," He surprisingly agrees, "But you are wet as fuck," Gojo comments as his lips pry away from yours.

You give the man a blank stare, "Satoru... that's the shower water-"

"Nope, that's definitely your pussy," He cuts off, head dropping so he can look down and angle the tip of his flushed cock right against your hole, "Loook, sweetheart, she's drippin' all over me," Gojo says with a smile.

You roll your eyes at him but let out a heavy breath, "Whatever, stop teasin'. If you're gonna put it in then put it in."

He lifts his eyes to your face and smirks, "Put what in, baby? C'mon, say it."

"Your cock Satoru," You voice out calmly, his dick aching at the simple yet lewd words leaving your lips.

Gojo bites his bottom lip, "Yeah? Y'want my cock inside you, huh?"

You push your hips forward a little and he slips inside you a little, "Obviously," You utter, voice light in a whine.

Your fiancé cracks that egotistical lil' smirk of his, "Yes or no, love," Gojo hums, his overly-handsome face nearing yours.

You give him a look and his smile only widens, "Yes, Satoru."

And then his cock is finally pushing into you, his eyes boring into your own and his jaw dropping a bit as his lips graze yours due to how close he was, "Fuck, I love you, y'know," He groans out to you, inch by inch pushing deep into your cunt.

His fat tip presses into the hilt of your cunt and you gasp, arms tightening around his neck and facial expression contorting into pleasureful, "Do you?"

"You know I do," Gojo murmurs, and the closeness and eye contact of it all is so intimate that it makes your stomach churn, "I love makin' you feel good too," He says as his hips pull back slightly before he eases his dick back inside you, teasing you with a slow push and pull of his hips.

You smile for a moment and your fingers play with the lower strands of his hair, your small touch making Gojo's brows furrow.

"Love when you touch me like that too," He murmurs to you before he's moving again. This time it's to angle himself down and grab your other leg, lifting you up completely and pressing your back into the shower wall.

His cock plunges deeper inside of you because of the changed position and your legs are spread obscenely in his hold, Gojo's pretty blue eyes never once leaving your face.

"Yeah?" You utter out to him before trailing your fingertip down along his nape and watching his eyes flutter at the small motion, "You're so sensitive, 'Toru."

"Mhm," Gojo just barely hums before resting his forehead on yours. It got very intimate with him very quickly, his strokes slow and deep as he works up a gentle pace with you, feeling your cunt tug at his cock every time he pulls back, "M'so sensitive for you," Gojo whispers.

You giggle, "I can tell," Is all you say before slipping yours hands to his shoulders and just feeling on his body, the sensual and slow movement of your hands on him making Gojo's mind waver.

His cock jumps inside you every time your hands move, his breathing growing heavier, eyes lowering on your face, and lips parting. Your hands find their place on his neck and Gojo groans.

Then you wrap one arm around his neck and the other slips downward to feel his chest, his heavy heartbeat felt under your palm and making you smile, "Satoru," You utter, your head tipping back a little as his pelvis presses into you and his cock bottoms you out.

Gojo tilts his head and his eyes narrow at you, his pretty lil fiancee, "Yes?"

You sigh and your eyes are directly on his, "Fuck me harder so I can leave scratch marks on your back."

That sudden demand of yours causes Gojo to roll his hips into you, still going nice and slow so you can just feel every inch and throbbing vein that decorates his cock. "The ones from last time haven't even healed yet," Gojo chuckles out to you.

You just barely moan, "So?"

Gojo smiles at that, "Naughty girl, you jus' want me to fuck you hard."

"That's what I just said, isn't it?" You huff out, brows tensing as he draws his dick out of your hole so very slowly.

"What happened to not ruining you?" He hums, smile widening.

Then his cock slips out of your cunt and you sigh at the loss, his tip still pressed against you but ultimately leaving you empty for a moment.

You pout at the man as he teases you, "...I changed my mind."

"Yeah?" Gojo hums, pushing himself right back in as he talks to you, "Y'want me to ruin this pussy?"

"Mhm," Your response comes out a bit more desperate than you would've liked it to as he snaps his hips forward into you and shoves every inch of his cock back inside.

Gojo can't help but moan, once again working up a pace but this time it's nowhere near slow like before. The eye contact and light touching of your lips is still there but this time Gojo's mindlessly fucking his cock in and out of you.

Drawing such sloppy sounds from your pussy as it drips and slicks around his shaft, his cock stretching you open and practically splitting you apart. Then Gojo presses his body to yours, eager to feel every inch of your skin on his as he moans right against your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good," Gojo whines out to you, brows tensing and hips unrelenting against you, "Never' wanna pull out, fuck."

"Then don't," You taunt.

You have to start being more careful with what you say to Gojo during sex because he swears his head is spinning, eyes boring into your own as he beings pounding into you.

His hips snap so aggressively against you, long cock dragging in and out of your wet folds, cunt stretched around him so messily that he couldn't even stop himself for a second. And then he’s cumming prematurely. Damn you and that smart ass mouth, just the thought of fucking you full of his cum led him to actually doing so…

Fuckin’ brat.