#i guess stubble-sexual?

[woodenisms]

“THIS WORLD? full of temptations. turns out I'm not that great at saying no. i'm not built that way.  ”

independent roleplay for august w. booth from abc's once upon a time

written by bex. originally established 2012, re-established 2024

[parkersbliss]

the 141 and their obsessed girlfriend

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x female reader 

synopsis: you love your boyfriend, maybe a little too much that some of the things you say are... concerning to say the least.

warnings: kind of gory for simon, sexual innuendo, death threat, reader is just unhinged and in love with her man fr

a/n: if you get it, you get it. these all may or may nOT be things I've said to my boyfriend to which he said I was "batshit crazy but in a sexy way"

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

—

Ghost:

You sigh, laying your head down on Simon’s chest. His reaction is instinctive, an arm wrapping around you and pulling you closer. You snuggle further into him, his warmth radiating onto your skin. A reminder to you of where your home truly was. 

You can hear his heartbeat in his chest, pumping at a steady pace. You count each thump, rhythmic and soft. Faintly, you hear the sound of air moving in and out of his lungs and the slight bubbling of his stomach from the food you had eaten earlier. 

Simon’s hand strokes your lower back, drawing circles as his eyes focus on the rugby match. He’s unaware of his actions, something he’s too used to when he lies with you. He likes feeling the warmth, the subtle pulse, and shivers. It’s a reminder that you’re real. 

You’re too lost in his heartbeat to hear the narration of the game. There was something so comforting to listen to him, affirming what you knew was true. Your boyfriend was alive, his heart circulating the blood through his body. You push yourself further into his chest, wanting to be closer. You couldn’t get any closer, you knew that, but you needed to be. There was some part of you that kept urging for it. 

“Simon,” You call out. 

He looks down at you. “Hm?”

You meet his eyes. “I want to cut through your skin, open your ribcage, and feel your heart.” You said it casually, not faltering and maintaining eye contact with him. You needed to crawl into his chest and live there, be one with him. Closer. 

Simon doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink at your words. “I’d want nothing more than to have you cradle my heart in your hands.” 

You move to straddle him, resting your legs on either side of his hips and leaning your chin on his sternum so you can really look at him. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

He scoffs. “Quite the opposite.”

“Even if I want to live inside your chest?”

“If I could make that happen, I would.” He runs a hand through your hair, tugging gently at the knots. 

You smile at him. “I’d let you live in mine and use my lungs as your personal trampoline.” 

Simon chuckles a beautiful sound to you and lets his hand rest on your hips. “I would be honored.” 

You trace patterns on his chest, huffing. “I just want to live in you.” 

“Unfortunately, you’ll just have to settle for my dick in you.”

You purse your lips from on top of him. “I guess that’ll do.”

Gaz:

You set your phone on the bedside table, lying on your side to look at your boyfriend. He was shirtless, with nothing but his briefs on in bed. Your eyes trace up and down him, taking in all the curves of his muscles and the lines of his abs to the slight stubble of a beard and the downward slope of his nose. God, he was so pretty. 

As if on cue, he turns to look at you. “What?” He murmurs in that voice of his. Kind, but a hint of grit to it. He made it so easy for your thoughts to run wild. You wanted to have his kids. See his eyes in them, the curve of his nose. Actually, scratch that you wanted—“I wanna get you pregnant,” You blurt out. 

Kyle laughs, loud. He isn’t sure he quite heard you correctly. He hopes he did, but then again, you did have a knack for breaking silence with something worth talking about. “What?” 

“I wanna get you pregnant,” You repeat. 

He stills, staring at you and how your face is unwavering. He’s not quite sure what to make of that sentence. He stares at you, your lips pursed in thought and eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief. “That’s simply not possible.” 

“I know,” You said. “But I just want to be able to like fuck you for once.” 

“Oh my god.” 

You shake your head, suddenly aware of how unhinged you sound. But that’s just what Kyle did to you. You were downright obsessed with him. Everything about him made your thoughts melt into a pile of mush and goo. One look at him had you practically reeling. You couldn’t fathom how he was real and yours, nonetheless. “Sorry! You’re just so fucking pretty and it’s like I need to bend you ov—,” 

“Babe,” He cuts you off. “Okay! I get it.” 

“No, but like—,"

He raises his brows at you. “It’s not biologically possible.” He restates, emphasizing that he was not letting that happen and neither was the world. Thank god, he thinks. 

You flop down onto your back on the bed with a groan. “So unfair. We should be like seahorses.” 

Kyle hums, choosing to humor you. “Uh-huh, sorry babe.” 

“I’m just so obsessed with you. I have so many feelings I just… I don’t know what to do with it.” 

Kyle’s hand traces up and down your arm. “Well, we could start with not getting me pregnant.” He moves to situate himself on top of you, pressing his nose into your neck. “But maybe there’s a compromise here, hm?” He kisses the soft skin, and once again, your brain melts into nothing. He was so good to you. He made it easy for you to forget everything in the world but his name on your tongue. So you couldn’t get him pregnant. There was a better idea ahead. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Soap: 

You sat at the table next to Johnny, coffee in hand. You both sit in silence, observing the people passing by on the street. You make note of a man frantically texting on his phone, a little girl chasing after a bird, a couple clinging on to each other. 

People watching. A favorite pastime for the two of you. 

You watch as a girl walks by, her gaze lingering on your boyfriend a second longer than you’d like. Her eyes rake up and down his figure, and she pulls out her phone, no doubt texting someone. 

You turn to Johnny, who’s oblivious to it. “I’m going to fucking kill her.”

His head snaps towards you. “What, love?” 

“That girl,” You gesture with your head. “I’m going to kill her.” 

“Why?” 

“She looked at you.” 

Your boyfriend nearly spits out his coffee. “So you’re gonna kill her?” 

You glare at him. “That’s merciful.” 

“Oh really?” He jests you. 

You nod your head, setting down your coffee and pulling out your phone. “If I really wanted to fuck with her, then I could find her home address and slightly misplace all the objects in her flat and watch her go insane.”

Johnny stares at you, concern etched into his face. His eyes sweep your face for any ounce of joke, but he knows you’renot. He always wanted a possessive girlfriend. “You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy about you,” You correct. “If I ever see anyone look at you like that again, I’m going to call an airstrike on them.” 

He grabs your hands. “Love, you never have to worry about anyone else.”

“I don’t worry. They should worry. If they wanna stare, then they can stare at the ceiling before I gouge their eyes out.” 

Johnny sighs. He loves you, truly. But to say you weren’t sometimes a little unhinged was an understatement. You always had a jealous streak about you, it’s what initially drew him in. That fire he saw in your eyes, dangerous but beckoning him closer. The idea of a possessive girlfriend really did turn him on. It was just moments like these that he wished he could carry around a giant sign that said “Please don’t look at me unless you wanna die.” 

“You’re something else, you know?” He asked, running his thumb over your knuckles. 

You melt a little at the gesture, and he can see your shoulders relax. “You’re mine.” 

He presses a quick kiss to your lips. “True, and you never have to do that. So please stop threatening random people on the street in public.” 

You smile at him. He was so sweet. “You’ll never find a bitch crazier than me, baby.” 

“I never want to,” Johnny insists. “Though, you can show me crazy in a different way…” 

You can see his eyes sparkling with something and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands. “Let’s go home.” 

Price:

You’re sat next to Price on the couch. He’s got a hand slung over your shoulder, keeping you close as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. He was warm, a giant teddy bear covered in rippling muscles. His beard scratches the top of your head, but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, you love the feeling of it when you’re kissing. The soft pinch of his hair against your face. 

But honestly, you loved everything about him. There wasn’t one thing about him you could dislike. Well, maybe that he was gone so long sometimes. In reality, it just made you want him more though. It created special moments like this, where you knew time was futile. 

You sigh, playing with the hairs of his beard. You feel like them against your fingertips, pinching and prodding. 

You gaze up at your husband, his blue eyes focused on the screen and dark lashes contrasting with his pale skin. 

“Honey,” You murmur.

He hums, looking down at you. “Yes?” 

You cock your head at him. “I want to take your beard hair and make it into matching sweaters for us.” 

Price, unfazed by most things, is fazed by this. He could take a bullet, and wouldn’t flinch at a grenade or a gun pointed at his face. But that. 

That was a sentence he wasn’t sure how to unpack. 

“What?” He asked. 

You giggle a little. “You know, the clippings in the bathroom. What if I started collecting them to make a sweater?” 

Price nods, humoring you. “Darling, please don’t do that.” 

“Why not?” You pout, sticking out your bottom limit. 

“That would be itchy,” He insists. “My beard is already itchy enough. You don’t want to wear it too.” 

You don’t, he’s right. You just wanted to say something to see his face contort. He was so comfortable around you that it made it easy to catch him off guard. And really, a part of you was that obsessed with him. 

“Fair point, I suppose,” You concede. 

He’s surprised you surrender so easily. “You don’t already have a collection going, do you?” 

You laugh, patting his chest. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

He pauses. “No, I would not.” You snuggle closer to him, going back to playing with his beard. His arm drops to your waist, giving it a squeeze. “You’re insane, my dear.” 

You grin up at him, planting a kiss on his lips. “In more ways than one.” 

Price kisses you back, sneaking his hands under your shirt and higher. “Amen.” 

He was never religious, but that man did get on his knees for you.

-- END --

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[deermurdock]

writing a fic that’s currently at 3.1k, a dd:ba!matthew fic that’ll be posted on my main when i finish, but hey, new thought:

matt with a touch starved reader.

matt with a reader who flinches everytime he brushes his hand against theirs.

one time, he rubs their arm and listens to their heartbeat quicken, but his movement doesn’t stop.

the first time you kiss, he… well, he won’t lie, it wasn’t good. it had been a long time since you kissed someone, you’re not very good at it. he takes the time to teach you.

you blush at his constant kisses to your head, at the way he holds your hand, hell, even a long, warm hug from the man makes you deliriously happy.

the first time he kisses your neck, you almost pull away from how new the sensation is— his stubble tickling your skin. this is a common occurrence; matt will bless you with some new type of affection and you’ll move away, not because you don’t want or don’t like it, but because you are just not used to it.

the first time he kisses your neck, you move away ever so slightly and it causes matt to stop.

it wasn’t even in a sexual way, it was just to show his affection to you as you sit on the couch and type away on your laptop.

“i’m sorry,” he says, “i won’t do it again—“

“what?” you ask, confused. “why not?”

“…you flinched away.”

“well that doesn’t mean i didn’t like it.. im just… it’s been a long time since anyone’s kissed my neck.” you confess, and you say it so casually that it breaks matt’s heart.

so he makes it his mission to show you all the different ways he can shower you in affection.

one night after a long day, matt asks you to sit with him on the couch. you oblige, and at first, you just sorta.. sit next to eachother. then, matt sighs, before shifting so he’s laying back. then, he tucks his glasses to the side and looks to you.

“you’re just gonna sit there and not cuddle me?”

you glance to him, raising an eyebrow. he does look awfully pretty, all sprawled out like that.

“i wouldn’t even know where to begin.” you confess.

“just come here,” he requests softly, and, slowly, you shift so you’re much closer to matt, and before you know what’s happening, hes guiding you so that your head will be laying on his chest. you do so, but you’re still tense. he knows why, so his arms wrap around your torso. he kisses your head, and you squirm a bit. “what’s wrong?”

hesitation fills you. but matt had given no indication of having gotten sick of you yet.

“this is weird.” you finally confess. you’re so incredibly tempted to just melt into him,

“do you want to stop?”

“no.” your reaction is instant. matt doesn’t stop a smile from creeping onto his face.

“okay, great.” he hums, “just try to relax.”

he rubs your back, and he feels you flinch as he does, before relaxing into him. he gets the distinct impression that maybe there’s more to it than you just having been single for a long time, but he won’t say anything. he doesn’t want to scare you off.

another time, matt runs a hand through your hair, his fingernails scratching your scalp. you groan softly as he does this, melting into him like ice cream.

“guess it’s safe to say you like this one, huh?” he teases.

your face flushes.

“..maybe.”

and the first time you sleep together, matt’s more worried about hurting you than anything else. so he knows he has to take his time. he takes you out to dinner, you two talk all night. when you get back to his apartment, he spends hours, and i mean *hours*, just kissing you and touching you.

he needs to make sure you’re relaxed enough for him to fuck you.

he sucks on the skin of your neck, a hickey forming as he bites and sucks on your skin.

“matt—“ you whine, and he just smirks against your skin.

“sh, sh, sh,” he finally says as he pulls away. “just let me take care of you, pretty thing. i’ll make you feel so good.. teach you how to take my cock so well.. that sound good, kid?”

anyways.

touch starved reader dating matt murdock, who’s love language is touch.

[puffins-muffins]

Night & Morning

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female Plus Size!Reader Word Count: 2200 Summary: Your very casual, no-strings arrangement with Jax begins to shift when he stays the night for the first time. In the morning, he wakes you with sleepy sex. Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please, minors DNI!! hints of marijuana use, (unprotected - be responsible!) P in V sex, cursing, slight feels. A/N: I just had to come (hehe) back to these two from the What Lovers Do universe! 🥰 This little one-shot takes place before the events in WLD (huge thanks to my bestie @laurfilijames 😉) You can read them together or on their own. All feedback (comments, reblogs, likes) is very much appreciated!! 🩷 Enjoy lovers!!

The air in your bedroom is thick with the scent of sex and marijuana smoke. The window is cracked just enough to let the cool night breeze slip in. Jax is lying on his back, one arm slung over his face. His chest rises and falls in the dim light of your bedroom. You’re curled on your side, head propped on your hand, just watching him.

This is usually the part where one of you leaves.

It’s just the way things are. He never stays, you never ask him to, and vice versa. 

But so far, he hasn’t moved.

His jeans are still on the floor, his kutte is draped over the back of the chair in the corner, but he hasn’t reached for either yet. Instead, he’s just… lying there, his body loose and unguarded in a way you’re not used to.

You shift slightly, dragging the sheet higher over your bare skin. “You good?”

His arm lowers just enough for his eyes to meet yours, heavy-lidded and unreadable. You take him in— the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his stubble frames the faint smirk that doesn't fully settle on his face. There's a moment of hesitation before he quietly says, “Yeah.”

That’s it. No explanation, no excuse for why he’s still here.

You nod, settling back against your pillow, pretending this doesn’t feel different. Pretending your heart isn’t skipping at the idea of him staying, even for just a little longer. 

A few minutes pass in silence, the kind that isn’t awkward, just comfortable. Jax exhales deeply, rolling onto his side, propping his head up on his hand to face you. His other hand reaches out, his rough fingers tracing a slow path along your arm.

It’s not entirely sexual, just softer, something neither of you have ever really done before.

You swallow, your gaze locked on his. His stormy blue eyes hold something you can’t quite pinpoint. There’s a flicker of hesitation, something caught between want and uncertainty, like he’s not sure if he should be here, but he doesn’t want to leave either.

“Didn’t take you for the type to linger.” You murmur, chewing on your bottom lip, immediately regretting opening your mouth and potentially ruining the entire moment. 

He huffs out a quiet laugh, but there’s no real amusement in it. His fingers keep moving, light and tender. “Guess I don’t feel like leaving yet.”

The admission sits heavy between you. Jax searches your face like he’s waiting for you to tell him to go. But you don’t.

“Okay,” you assure him, a lazy smile gracing your lips. 

Eventually, his hand stills, his fingers lingering just a moment before he lays on his back again. His eyes shift toward the ceiling, his expression indiscernible, like he’s sorting through thoughts he’ll never say out loud.

You try to make whatever decision he’s grappling with a little easier by embracing the fact that he hasn’t left yet— something that, to your own surprise, you’re completely okay with.

You mold against him, the soft curves of your body pressing into the hard planes of his, draping the plushness of your thighs over him as you nuzzle closer. His arm wraps around you, his body relaxing against yours— like maybe he needed the silent reassurance that it’s okay, that this is okay. His lips brush over the top of your head, and he pulls you in even closer.

Your fingers trace along the ridges of old scars that are etched into his abdomen. You don’t ask where they came from, already knowing enough about his life to understand that each one carries a reminder of unsaid choices.

Your palm smooths over a particularly deep scar near his ribs, your thumb grazing over the raised skin in slow strokes. His breathing hitches for just a moment before settling, and then you feel it, the silent acceptance— the way he lets you in without any words.

For however long, you just exist together, finding an unexpected comfort in something that neither of you has tried to make sense of. 

Jax is awake before the sun, dim light from the early morning barely filtering through your blinds. The warmth of your body is a quiet comfort, your breath steady and soft against his forearm.

And fuck, the way you’re nestled against him is already doing things to him.

His arm is draped lazily over your waist, fingers resting just above your navel. Your back is pressed flush to his chest— your plump, naked ass tucked right against his morning arousal. You fit beside him so perfectly it almost feels intentional.

His cock twitches at the contact, a slow throb of heat spreading through him. He lets out a breath, his lips brushing against the crook of your neck, and when you don’t stir, he lets himself indulge a little.

Jax presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder, breathing you in, his stubble scraping lightly against your skin. His hand moves, tracing lazy patterns along your stomach before sliding down, fingers grazing your thick hip, then lower, over the curve of your ass.

You shift slightly, a sleepy little sigh escaping you, but you’re still lost in sleep.

Jax smirks against your skin, tilting his hips just enough to drag his cock along the crease of your ass, teasing himself more than you. His fingers trail between your thighs, skimming your dimpled skin, not quite touching where you need him, but enough to make you stir again.

A soft, breathy sound slips from you, your body instinctively pressing back into him.

His smirk spreads into a wide grin, his breath feathery against your ear, goosebumps rising across your skin. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

You hum, still half-asleep, but the shift in your breathing tells him you’re waking up now. He keeps his touches light, his kisses are unhurried, his fingers caressing between your thighs.

He feels it the moment you start to give in. The way your hips shift, how your thighs part slightly, your body already anticipating him.

Jax groans, his hand sliding between your legs, fingers grazing your slick heat. “Fuck,” he mutters, his cock jolting against you. “Already wet for me?”

Your only answer is another soft sigh, your body pressing closer— inviting him in.

Jax presses the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with it before sinking in, slowly filling you inch by inch. His forehead rests against your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin as he bottoms out.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers gripping the sheets as he holds himself there, savoring the way you clench around him, warm and snug.

Jax groans, pulling out just enough before pushing back in. His movements are measured, dragging out the sensation, making you feel every thick inch of him. The slow pace is intoxicating— each deep, unhurried thrust sending waves of pleasure through you, leaving you aching for more.

His arm tightens around your waist, making sure there’s no space between you. His lips never leave your skin, peppering open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder and neck. His breath is ragged as he savors the way your body responds to him, how you let him take his time with you.

He keeps it unhurried, his arousal heightened by the consistent moans that slip from you while he moves inside you. His hand slides up, cupping your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he sets a lazy rhythm. He feels every reaction— the way your back arches, the way your body tightens around him, the way you crave him.

“You like that?” he rasps against your jaw, his voice still husky from sleep.

You don’t answer with words. Instead, your hand covers his, guiding his grip tighter around your breast, silently urging him on, letting your body tell him exactly how much you do.

Jax curses under his breath, his grip on your breast tightening, giving you exactly what you’re asking for. Then, his hand begins to slide down, his fingertips dragging over the soft swell of your stomach. The heat of his palm leaves a burning trail in its wake as he moves lower. 

When his fingers finally slip between your thighs, you gasp, your breath hitching as he finds your clit. He strokes it in gradual, teasing circles— his touch light and agonizing.

His fingers press down just enough to send an another shot of pleasure rippling through you, heat spreading through your limbs. Your breathing grows uneven, your pussy tightening around him with each thrust, his touch keeping you on the brink. 

Your hips begin to move more frantic, more desperate, grinding against him with an urgency you can’t control, chasing the release that feels just out of reach. You need him to push you over.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he breathes out. “Keep doin’ that, grind on me just like that.”

You whimper, rolling your hips, feeling the delicious friction of his cock hitting that perfect spot. The movement rips a groan from his throat, holding you firm as he thrusts deeper, making sure you feel every drag of his thick, throbbing length.

His fingers press firmly against your clit, his low grunts hot against your neck as the pressure builds, pushing you closer. It's maddening— just enough to keep you on edge, to make your pussy flutter around his cock.

His voice is nothing but a rough whisper against your skin, “Feels so fuckin’ good, huh?”

You can’t speak, can’t form a single coherent thought. All you do is moan, letting him take what he wants while your noises beg him to give you what you need. 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your shoulder, his voice filled with need— the command sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers never stop their torturous pace against your clit, until his words give you the final nudge that sends you spiraling.

Your body clenches as your orgasm crashes over you in waves, spreading outward, leaving your entire body trembling. Needy, breathless moans of his name tumble from your lips as your walls convulse around him.

The pleasure is overwhelming, your nails dig into his arm that’s wrapped around you as you fall completely apart with him buried so deep inside you.

Jax groans, low and absolutely wrecked, his hips stuttering as he feels you come undone around him. “Fuck,” he grits out, his grip on you tightening— your body milking him, dragging him toward his own breaking point.

The way you tighten around him, pussy soaked and perfect, has him thrusting into you a little harder, his pace turning more frantic. His breath is ragged against your shoulder, his lips still pressed to your flush skin as he groans your name. His grip on your hip is firm, but as the pleasure builds, his hand moves, searching— reaching for something more.

Without hesitation, you meet him halfway, your fingers sliding into his, intertwining and then gripping him just as tightly. It’s instinctive, but the moment your hands lock together, a spark ignites— new and unfamiliar.

This isn’t just sex.

It’s intimate. Deeper than just the way he’s buried inside you, it’s the way he moves— purposeful and consuming.

His body tenses, muscles tight, sweat glistening on both of you as his release crashes over him. “Fuck, darlin’,” he groans, plunging himself in your sensitive cunt. His cock throbs, pulsing as he spills inside you, warmth spreading as he empties himself with a shuddered exhale.

His thrusts slow, his damp forehead pressing to your shoulder. Your breaths are heavy— bodies still slick and tangled. Even as the aftershocks fade, his grip on your hand doesn’t loosen. 

Jax stays wrapped around you, his body still flush against yours, his breath steadying as the glow of the morning creeps into your bedroom.

You sigh, satisfied, your body still humming from the aftermath of him, the intimacy of it all hanging between you. He presses a lazy, lingering kiss to your shoulder, his stubble scratching delicately against your skin before he rests his head there.

For a while, neither of you speak. The silence is comfortable. Easy. Filled with something neither of you is willing to define but both undeniably feel.

Then, with a smirk you can hear in his voice, Jax finally breaks it.

“Ya know,” he muses, shifting just enough to nuzzle his nose against your neck, “if wakin’ up like this is what happens when I stick around, I might have to spend the night more often.”

You scoff a quiet, amused laugh, tilting your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. “Oh yeah?” you challenge, arching a playful brow. “You sure you can handle that? Wouldn’t want this accidentally turning into a thing.”

Jax grins, his fingers giving the generous curve of your hip a light squeeze. “Shit, babe,” he drawls, pressing another lazy kiss to your skin, “I think we passed that point the second I didn’t sneak out.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips as you settle back against him, blissed out and content, letting the comfort of him sink into you.

Neither of you say it out loud, but the thought lingers between you.

Maybe this isn’t the only time he’ll stay.

[hederasgarden]

More Than You Bargained For

Summary: After winning a bet with Tangerine during game night, you go to collect—only to find you’ve gotten more than you bargained for. Pairing: Tangerine x F!Reader Word Count: 1.7K Rating: 18+ only, explicit sexual content. Oral sex (m and f receiving), use of restraints and dirty talk. A/N: Thank you to @writercole for beta'ing and providing the title. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Aaron Taylor Johnson Character Masterlist

It’s Friday night, and you’ve got a rare weekend with Tangerine all to yourself. It’s the perfect opportunity to collect on that bet he lost during game night. Especially since you know exactly how your boyfriend gets between assignments—intense and restless with too much energy and nowhere to channel it. And you? You’ve got the perfect solution ready.

“It’s time to pay up,” you announce, striding into the living room and holding up the fuzzy pink cuffs for Tangerine to see.

He’s sprawled out on the couch, one leg casually crossed over the other, his shoes resting on your coffee table. He lifts his eyes from his phone and gives you an incredulous look. "You must be joking, luv."

“Well, a bet’s a bet. Unless, of course, you’re just gonna be a sore loser,” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “Guess I’ll have to tell Lemon he doesn’t need to pay you the money you won in poker after all.”

Tangerine scoffs but gets to his feet. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” he mutters, following you into the bedroom.

“Take off your jacket and shoes. You can leave the rest,” you direct sweetly.

Your instructions earn you an arched brow but Tangerine does as you ask, carefully removing his suit jacket, folding it neatly over the chair beside the bed, before he slips off his shoes and socks. He loosens his tie, taking his time as he rolls up his sleeves, fully aware of the effect it has on you. Even with the jacket gone, you can't help but admit he looks damn good in the rest of his blue suit.

“Well?” He asks expectantly.

You gesture for him to get on the bed, amused by the look of sheer annoyance on his face. He allows you to cuff each wrist to the headboard with little resistance, but when you remove the pillow from under his head, he shoots you a disgruntled glare.

"Comfortable?" you ask, loosening the tie of your robe to reveal the lacy lingerie you chose for tonight.

It's sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. You've forgone the underwear, a fact Tangerine clearly appreciates, if the way he runs his tongue along his lower lip is anything to go by. You approach the bed slowly, letting him drink his fill of you. His face remains impassive as you trail a hand up his leg, fingertips catching on the fine silk fabric. When you reach the crotch of his pants you tease him through the fabric long enough to make him shift and grunt. 

"I’m still wearin’ my suit," Tangerine reminds you when you climb on the bed and straddle his waist. 

"Oh I know," you reply, crawling over his body until you hover over his chest. "I don't need your clothes off for what I plan to do."

He stares directly at your cunt, lips parting as he inhales your scent. Even though he’s seen you naked a hundred times he still looks absolutely mesmerized. It sends a thrill through you, bolstering your confidence. 

"No smart remarks?" You ask. 

Your question seems to jolt him out of his haze and he looks back up at you, ready to deliver a sharp retort no doubt, but the words die as you lower yourself over his face. The muffled groan that rattles in his chest has you shifting forward, grasping the headboard to steady yourself. For one agonizing second, nothing happens, and doubt creeps in, threatening to unsettle you. Then Tangerine drags the flat of his tongue through your center. Your thighs tense and he does it again. 

Together, you find a rhythm that has you both moaning. The two-day stubble on his jaw and his thick mustache rub against the soft skin of your thighs and his nose bumps your clit as you ride his face. Even like this, without the benefit of his fingers or his cock, Tangerine’s talented mouth is working overtime to bring you to the edge. You know if you’re not careful you’ll come too quickly and your fun will be over.

Your hips slow, and you shift back to give him some air. The lower half of his face is shiny and pink, and he stares up at you with lust-blown eyes. It isn’t often you find your boyfriend at a loss for words. 

“What a good boy,” you tease, amused to see his hands curl into fists, muscles straining against the cuffs. They rattle ominously, and for a brief moment, you wonder if the flimsy metal will be able to contain him. “So obedient,” you add.

His eyebrows rise, clearly surprised by the way you speak to him. This wasn’t how things usually played out between the two of you. But you don’t give him a chance to respond, pressing your cunt to his mouth again. It’s killing him not to touch you or be in charge and, for a brief moment, you consider freeing him. You know he’d make you see stars, but then you remember his infuriatingly smug face during game night and decide he could suffer a little longer.

“I’d ask if you can breathe, but I honestly don’t care,” you pant, reaching down to thread your fingers through his thick hair and yank him even closer.

In response Tangerine spears his tongue into your channel and lifts his chin. The action has you gasping and rocking into his mouth as the coil in your belly pulls taunt. You’re closer than you care to admit. Your boyfriend was always good at unraveling you and tonight’s no exception. The resolve to make him suffer and prolong this falters as you surrender yourself to his touch. You come with a silent gasp, your hips moving on instinct to chase the feelings flooding you. Beneath you, Tangerine’s body jolts upward and a deep, almost desperate groan resonates in his chest. Startled, you pull away and stare down at him concerned but he just stares back at you. 

When he shifts again you glance back, shocked to realize what just happened.

“Did you….just come from this?” You question. 

He huffs, licking his lips as he takes in a greedy breath. Despite his effort to seem unaffected, you can see the way he seems to struggle for control. He rolls his eyes and rattles the cuffs. “Gonna let me out?” he asks, his voice edged with impatience.

“Not until you answer me,” you shoot back. 

He stares back at you, lips pressed firmly together. He was a stubborn bastard.

“You really should answer me,” you whisper, shifting down his body until you’re kneeling between his thighs. He watches as you slowly undo his belt and pull his zipper down. He’s not wearing underwear and you reach into his pants, releasing his half hard cock that’s sticky and coated with his release. “If you do, I’ll help clean you up.”

You cup his balls and he inhales sharply but otherwise remains stubbornly silent. The kiss you press to the veiny underside of his cock has him lifting his hips briefly before he seems to regain control of himself. The tendons in his forearms staring as he pulls on the cuffs, irritated when they remain firmly in place. 

“If you’d rather we end this game here…” you threaten, stepping back and placing your foot firmly on the floor.

Tangerine grunts, his body shifting slightly. “I came,” he mutters, his frustration clear.

“Mmm,” you purr, moving back between his legs. You take the head of his cock into the wet heat of your mouth and slowly suck him clean, savoring the salty, tart taste you love. Tangerine groans and tries to push more of his cock into your mouth but you pull away.

“Did you like being tied up?” You ask. 

“No,” he groans. You rub your thumb over the sensitive head and stare down at him. “A little.” He admits. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You question, pumping his length. “The longer you talk, the longer I’ll keep this up.”

He sighs and stares up at the ceiling briefly. “I didn’ mind it,” he concedes, hissing when you swallow him down to the root. “Fuckin’ hell,” he pants. You make sure to pull back slowly, keeping firm pressure around his cock as it slips past the tight ring of your lips. “I liked it. Havin’ you sit on my face.”

You seal your lips around the head of his cock and suck, tracing your tongue over and through his slit. The choked off inhale he makes has you feeling embolden and you swallow him again, gasping when he bucks into your mouth. He groans your name, a litany of filthy praise falls from his lips as you work his cock in and out of your mouth quickly. You move faster, letting his tip touch the back of your throat and hollowing your cheeks. You watch him through your lashes, loving how he looks completely at your mercy, mouth parted and chest heaving.

Soft little desperate sounds pass his lips as you increase the pace. Your fingers move between your legs to touch yourself. Everything’s still slippery from his mouth and you’re a little overly sensitive but you’re so turned on that it takes so little to have you flying, your own moan adding to Tangerine’s pleasure. He comes again with a loud, drawn-out groan. There’s too much cum for you to swallow although you try your best as you let him push himself deep into your throat. Cum leaks out, dribbling down your chin and onto his expensive suit.  

When you pull back he’s trembling all over. Your throat is sore and you’re covered in a mess of fluids but pride swells your chest. Tangerine stares up at you, sweat dotting his brow. You clear your throat and use your thumb to gather the excess saliva and cum from the corner of your mouth. Surprisingly, he doesn’t resist when you press your thumb between his lips. He sucks and you stare at him, feeling something stir in your belly. 

“Take off the cuffs,” he gristles. “Now.”

For a second you consider denying the request but something in his eyes warns you that’s not the best idea. So you do as he asks, nearly dropping the key at first. Once he’s free you find yourself on your back with him looming over you. He presses his body into yours, his hand around your throat. 

“I hope you had your fun, darlin’,” he whispers, “because now it’s my turn.”

[theogonize]

house and you as pill/smoke buddies is on my brain rn mhmmm...

it probably starts when he catches you on the roof, blunt in hand, sighing into the void. your lab coat is abandoned on the sill. hard day at the hospital, child patient. couldn't save them. you know this is a high stress job, emotionally draining and you've never been good at coping. so there you are. some diazepam you swallowed down thirty minutes prior already in your system. must've kicked in already. house see's you and he's instantly intrigued by the arch of your back and the curve of your hips. perfect in those tight pencil skirts you wear. he doesn't know you but he's dying to figure out.

"i think you've stolen my spot." he clambers up to you. he's surprised you hadn't turned when you heard the cane. were you so deep in thought? you turn to look at him. register him. disheveled looking older man, 5 o'clock shadow, piercing blue eyes... and so you're type. you try to recall who he is. definitely a physician from the absence of a lab coat. is this the infamous...

"dr. house," he states. obviously the speed of your reaction, or lack thereof had intrigued him. your pupils were dilated and your breathing was irregular... though you might attribute that to present company "and you should not be this high while still in the hospital."

you breathe out the smoke you inhaled with a slight smirk. it makes him smirk too. you turn your back to the view and face him and subsequently eye his frame. he returns the favor, a lot less suggestively then you were. but of course he can't hold you to it, the way your eyes flutter is mostly because of the weed. heavy, intoxicating eyes. something tells you he doesn't mind it.

"don't tell. i'll leave in a minute and you can have your space back" you say.

"i said you stole my spot... who says you have to give it back?"

you smile and scoot over, tilting your head slightly gesturing him to join you. he pops two vicodin innocuously but you notice.

"damn, you swallow your pills dry? you're a sociopath" you giggle.

"i thought you as a doctor would be careful throwing around serious medical terms like that" he says, feigning an accusation. there's something about the intensity of eye contact you're holding. you've just met the guy and there's wayyy too much sexual tension in the air.

"not in the psychiatric department so no one can hold me to it," you say, blowing smoke in another direction. some part of house wanted you to blow the smoke right at him, not breaking the mutual eyefucking going on at the moment.

"how else did you get the lorazepam you've taken?" he asks, a sly tone like he has you all figured out. this was just a question to get you to spill the beans about your department. god you made him so curious. rarely had he seen a hot young doctor brazenly smoking after, presumably, taking a little something something. one so open to converse with an old man whose in her business.

you chuckle at his self assuredness.

"wanna take another guess?"

house uses this to shamelessly eye you. you're well put together, great sense of fashion. nice proportions. your body, not the outfits... he'd prefer you without them surely. no tremor. no injury, so no usual pain medication. you let out a heavy sigh and house darts his eyes towards your chest. great rack, he thinks, almost like he's going to put it in this mental patient report he's creating.

"hmmm, haloperidol? you don't strike me as the psychosis type though... i don't see anything indicating you inject yourself with ativan. diazepam?"

"you know your anxiety medication, doc," you smile. he sighs abashedly. god he's hot. something about that rasp in his voice, good god, paired with the vanity radiating off his skin... it does something to you. you finally introduce yourself, partially because you need him to call you by your name in the same raspy, smug tone.

"pediatric pulmonology..." he puts a hand to his chin, scratching his stubble as if contemplating something serious, "it's always the childcare specialists trying to overdose on the hospital terrace. dont blame you, if i had to deal with those parasites i'd want to kill myself too."

you shoot him a look. your sure you dont need to tell him the stakes of the job, the weight on your soul when a child with an obvious chronic and fatal condition comes into intensive care. the cruel hand fate plays on a mere baby. "kids are a product of their environment." you put plainly. you look away into the distance. "and i'm not trying to kill myself. not yet anyway." he stops prodding, obviously he's ticked you in some way.

"are you trying to kill yourself? doctor house?" you stare at him now, and then move your eyes to the almost empty bottle of vicodin.

"oh, i'm an addict. an addict whose due for a refill." he puts the bottle at eye level, as if examining a test tube. you can't help but give a defeated smile at his bluntness. you stare off into space again. a hollow silence follows. you don't dare look at house once.

"you mind if i take a hit"

his question catches you off guard. there's an earnest in his blue eyes. almost as if involuntarily, almost hypnotized, you hand him the joint. your fingers brush as if on purpose. your breath hitches again. and house notices, coloring his eyes a different shade of vain. he puts the blunt to his lips, your eyes follow his every move with heed. the pink of his lips soon emit the familiar smoke. he looks you right in the eyes as he blows it onto your face. you bask in the smoke letting it cloud you. cloud your judgement for a split second as you lean forward. for a kiss? maybe but

house puts the blunt to your lips this time, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. you look up at him through your lashes, eyes blown out wide. he's so tall, even with his cane. he lets you intake the smoke for a second longer than you like, maintaining the intense gaze on you. there's a kick in your stomach. maybe it's something. maybe it's nothing. maybe you're just high. but you swear you've never been wetter.

[billthedrake]

GRANDDADDY ISSUES

I tried not to seem too eager, waiting in the living room. The Christmas tree was still up and various cookies and candy still out. Mom always went all out for the holidays, even if it was just the two of us.

Thing was, my mother was happy I was close to her father. Always had been and even more so since her divorce. Granddad Paul didn't live super close, but he made an effort to come visit at least once a month. Catching my lacrosse games, being there for my birthday each year, and just completing out the rump family Mom and I had. As a single mother, she held it together, props to her, but Granddad made it feel like a family.

Summers I'd spend a month with the man. He was a high school history teacher and football coach, and had down time to spend with me. I was 16 before I realized his appointed, or self-appointed role, was to be the father figure in my life. Teaching me guy stuff, man stuff. Fishing, camping, home repairs. Birds and the bees. Guy talk.

Of course Mom would freak out, and more, if she new Granddad Paul and I had fooled around the summer after high school. Testing the waters, then diving in. I thought I was confused sexually, but when Granddad went down on me, and sucked a healthy load from my 18 year old jock balls, I knew I wasn't confused one bit. I learned how to return the favor.

I heard him pull up, an old but reliable pick up truck. I looked out the window to watch him get out.

Granddad was the perfect man in my book. 5'10 and barrel chested, walking slightly bow legged like an overgrown jock, he strode up to the door, hands in his jeans pocket. He had on only jeans and gray sweatshirt emblazoned with the high school he'd coached at. He'd let his normal short hair cut grow out to a medium length, almost shaggy and fully gray.

"Killer!" he beamed when I opened the door. I could see the silvery stubble on his chin and smell his aftershave as he pulled me into a tight hug. I now knew how to return the bear clasp myself, patting Granddad's meaty back and feeling his cool cheek next to mine before we pulled back, matching smiles on our faces. Yeah, Granddad missed me, too. He gave a wink and patted my upper arm.

"Merry Christmas, Dad!" I heard my mom behind me. My cue to step aside.

"Linda!" Granddad said. "Merry Christmas." He greeted my mother with a gentler hug. "You're looking great," he said.

My mom had been taking care of herself lately. She had a new boyfriend, Gary, who'd come over for Christmas dinner. I suspected they were more serious than Mom let on, but she didn't want to push things too fast with me. Not that I cared.

For his part, Granddad always had Christmas dinner with my uncle and his family, who lived closer to him. So the day after was Christmas part two for us. Presents and an afternoon light dinner before I threw a couple of bags in the cab of his truck for the hour ride.

It was great this year. Mom was in a great mood, between the boyfriend, her recent promotion at work and my return from college. I did my best to help in the kitchen so should could have time with Granddad.

I'd bought Granddad a new electric shaver Mom said he wanted. The irony was clear to me when he opened it, his scruff fully evident. He even made a joke about it. "Guess it is time to get more presentable," he said.

He got Mom a gift card for the local department store. "You know I can't pick out what you want, Linda," he apologized.

"I'll make good use of it," she assured him, getting out of her chair to give him an affectionate hug.

I was blown away when I opened the small box for my present. There were two tickets to the upcoming Panthers game.

"Jesus, Granddad," I let out, then checked myself. Mom didn't like me to swear, though I didn't do any outright cussing.

He looked like he couldn't wait to read my reaction. "They're as much for me as for you, even if the Panthers aren't doing so hot this season," he said. "I figured it would give us something to do this week."

It was a week and a half I'd spend with the man, but who was counting?

We ended up hitting the road by mid afternoon. Granddad wanted to get us back before nighttime. On the ride it was a lot of catching up. Mostly me giving a monologue about my first freshman semester, what classes I was taking, and what I'd signed up for in Spring.

I could tell something was on Granddad Paul's mind. "You, um, talk to your dad, Drew?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes, sir. we talked a little yesterday," I said in a flat tone. I didn't get along with my father. He was pretty absent and I had a lot of resentment.

Granddad looked over with a deep emotion and reached over to massage the back of my neck. It was affectionate and perfect. "I know it's tough, kiddo." Pulling his eyes back to the road he kept his hand there. The touch was getting me hard.

And as I looked over, taking in his weathered face and deepening wrinkles that framed his ruddy cheeks and roman nose, I was getting turned on for real now. I was wired for men, older men. Old men, really, though I was a low-key resentful that none of the men in the "mature" porn matched Granddad's hotness. He was well-preserved and yet clearly in his 60s. That combination was electric to me.

The man seemed to read my mind. "You know, Drew, we don't have to do anything this week. Anything you don't wanna."

I nodded. But my tone was upbeat, eager. "I wanna Granddad," I assured him. "It's kind of all Ive been thinking about the last few months."

"Is that right?" he chuckled. I felt his fingers tease the hair on the nape of my neck. "I figured Killer Stenson would have some fun to keep him occupied in college." Stenson was my Dad's last name, and mine too.

I spread my legs. I was officially bricked now. If Granddad had said HE didn't want to fool around, I didn't know what I would have done. I would have respected his wishes, and yet...

"No, sir. I guess I'm not wired for college guys, really," I said. It was a big admission, and one I'd rehearsed in my head for several weeks now. Turns out, Granddad Paul made me feel comfortable. It was all coming out easily now.

"And college girls?" he prompted.

"Not wired for girls at all, actually."

He nodded, taking it in. "You told your mother?"

I shook my head. "No, sir," I replied. "I haven't told anyone. Other than you."

"Well, it's no one's damn business if you don't want it to be."

We were getting close to Granddad's place and soon he removed his hand as he turned into the gravel driveway. He was a widower and when he'd retired, he'd bought a mountain cabin. We pulled up, and I got one bag, and Granddad the other. As we entered, I was reminded of the distinctly masculine space of the place. Wood paneling and woody-smoky scent from the fireplace. Framed photos of mountains and nature, a signed football jersey framed behind glass, and not much else for decoration.

Granddad could get in no-nonsense mode and already he was leading me back to the second bedroom, which was the guest room when I visited. "Everything is here for you, Drew," he said, setting down my bag.

I gave a quick look in. Basic bed with wool blanket rather than a duvet or comforter. I wanted to respect Granddad's space, but I had to take a chance.

"I was kinda hoping I could be in the master bedroom," I said, nervously looking into the man's blue eyes.

That caught him by surprise. We'd fooled around the previous summer, a lot actually, but it had felt very exploratory, a naughty new game for both of us. Maybe this was my way of ratcheting that game up. But I'd had almost four long months to imagine this visit.

Granddad was caught by surprise. "For real, Killer?" he asked, in that "are you sure?" tone. Then giving me a wink, he added, "I snore, you know."

"I don't give a fuck, Granddad," I said, emboldened by the fact he hadn't said no.

There was a look of lust on that handsome face of his, and Granddad closed the distance between us. I felt his breath and then the scruff of his stubble before our lips touched. A gentle peck, then I opened my mouth. Granddad has a thick tongue and I could feel it snake in between my lips.

Oh fuck, we were making out, and this felt different than before. Granddad pulling my body into his and me feeling up that strong body through his sweatshirt.

"Easy, Killer," he finally mumbled into my lips. "Soft kissin can be kind of hot, too."

And then Granddad showed me a new speed, a new technique. He was right, this was incredible, and amazingly the gentler approach was fueling my boner just as much.

I did grunt, though, as I felt Granddad's paw grip my crotch.

He had a big smile as he pulled back. "Let's take this to my bed, young man."

We made our way to the master bedroom and quickly stripped down. I loved how Granddad's eyes were on me the whole time. "You packed on some more muscle at school, stud?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes, sir. Been hitting the weights hard," I added. I wasn't playing lacrosse at college, but I wanted to maintain and develop my jock body.

His eyes swept up and down my near nakedness. Appreciative, even as he got his lecturing tone. That Coach tone. "I hope you're doing it for yourself, Drew," he said. "Not for anyone else."

"I am, Granddad," I said with a slightly annoyed tone. Maybe he was right that my body issues and insecurities were driving my obsession with lifting and putting on muscle.

"Well, you're the kind of stud who makes me thankful I'm a man."

Then I watched Granddad slip off his underwear, showing off that full magnificent 65 year old body. Muscular but with some loose sag to the beef, that build was covered in a thick silvery fur trimmed evenly, at least until the darker bush, where gray pubic hairs grew longer and stray next to the brown ones. Granddad Paul's cock was just shy of 6 inches and cut and pretty thick, especially at the base. He'd confided to me that he took pills for a mild case of ED, and maybe he'd taken one that day, because his prick was sticking up hard.

"I'm thankful you're a man, too, Granddad," I joked, even as I slid off my boxers and showed my grandfather my erect dong. I wasn't as thick as him, but I had a good inch and a half in length on him.

"Goddamn," he hissed. I loved how the man let loose with the swearing when it was just us. Especially at times like this. He stepped up and reached down to gently stroke my hardon from base to tip. "OK if I suck this, Drew?"

I didn't know why he was being so coy, but then I realized he'd had four long months to imagine us having sex again. Anticipating. Not knowing where we'd pick off, or even if we would.

"Um, yeah, Granddad."

He looked up from my dick. "You know, my name is Paul."

"I know," I said. It felt weird being on a first name basis. The tone in my voice suggested I never would be.

That got a chuckle out of him. He hadn't let go of my cock, instead he slowly stroked it. Without lube it felt more of a tease motion rather than a jacking off pleasure. I loved it. "If you're game, there's some stuff I want to try this week," he said. A little nervousness was behind his mature experience.

"Yeah?" I asked excitedly. I reached forward to feel up his torso, feeling the thickness of his aged muscle.

He nodded. "You tried fucking yet, Killer?" he asked with a grin.

"No, sir," I said. "Been thinking about it, though. A lot."

That brought a smile to his face. "Your mother would kill me," he said.

"She's not gonna find out, sir," I assured him.

Granddad released my dick and then crouched down in front of me, His strong hands ran up and down my outer quads as he stared at my dick. "We're gonna have a lot of fun this week, aren't we, Killer?" he breathed.

"Yes, Granddad," I answered.

He leaned in some and skinned back my foreskin. "You know I'm not a big fan of your father, but I'll give him credit for leaving your skin intact."

I felt his tongue taste the tip then watched him open up and take me in. I still got a thrill from seeing this masculine man being so enthusiastic sucking dick. He didn't got slow either. Taking just a second to get used to me and my size, he began working me up and down with long steady mouth strokes. Twisting his head slightly and giving a gentle tug of my balls.

"Granddad!" I urged. My lock was loaded and my sexual response was far more primed than I expected. If Granddad kept it up, I wouldn't last long. I even gave a half hearted attempt to push his shoulders back, but he kept on me. I looked down on his almost entirely gray hair and his mature body. He was bobbing faster now, and sucking more fervently. "FUCK!" I gasped.

I heard the man choked down my heavy load in successive swallows. His moans around my spurting prick were deep and appreciative as he rode out my orgasm with his slowed down sucking.

"Goddamn, buddy," he finally said as he pulled back and wiped his chin. "That's one helluva load. Please tell me you have more in the tanks for later."

"Probably," I laughed, enjoying the way my dick stayed rigid after cumming so hard.

He took his time standing up. "Think I can feel you up for a bit?" he asked. Already he was climbing on to the bed and scooting over to the other side to pull out some lube.

I wasn't sure what he was wanting but I got in bed, too. He squirted a good deal of lube on his dick and started stroking before turning back to me. His free hand ran along my bare torso.

"You got a beautiful body, Killer," he said, openly massaging my chest and abs. I wasn't completely smooth but compared to him I was.

"Thank, Granddad," I said. "I love yours, too." I reached out and began to touch his furry chest.

"I'm old," he said with a laugh.

I looked into his eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, Granddad, but I like em old."

"You into the daddies, Killer?" Granddad smiled.

"Older, even," I admitted. "A man has to be 60 before I notice him. I'm kind of messed up."

"Hardly, stud," he said. He took his hand and moved to touch and caress my chin. "I got a good bud like you."

I tried to pick up on the implications of what he was saying. Put two and two together. "A boyfriend?" I knew Granddad had gone mostly for men after Grandma died. Said he didn't think he was up for another traditional relationship and that there was too much lost time to make up.

"No," the man replied. "Just a deep friendship. He's married now, but craves a little coach time, you know?" I could tell he was hesitant to tell me about this.

"A former player?" I asked.

"That stays between you and me, Killer."

"Yes, sir." I ran my hand down, past his moving fist, to cup his balls. "I'm just glad you got someone looking after you, Granddad."

"Oh kiddo," he breathed, closing in the gap for another kiss. This was less soft than before but it was amazing. Real heavy making out as Granddad moved back to feeling my body as he jerked off. He had a slower sexual response but it didn't take him long. He pawed at my chest more aggressively as I felt the tension rise and release in his body. He grunted into my mouth and I felt his hot cum splash on my belly.

We embraced and held each other after our orgasms, making out some but also just feeling each other's bodies.

"So... the older man thing," Granddad said, breaking the silence. "How much of that is me?"

He asked the thing that had been on my mind. "Some of it. But I think if we hadn't fooled around, I would have found someone who reminded me of you."

That got a soft grunt from the man. I knew the words hit him in an emotional and sexual place. "Is that what we're doing, Killer? Just fooling around?" There was an edge to his voice, teasing yet sexual.

"Oh god, Granddad," I hissed. "I've been trying not to get ahead of myself."

He gave me a thoughtful look, his blue eyes set off by his gray hair and weathered face. "Well, we got all week to figure things out."

"Week and a half," I corrected.

Granddad smiled. "You serious about what I said earlier? About trying more?"

I felt his strong biceps, pumped beneath the looser skin. "I'm not very experienced, sir. But I wanna be. I want you to be the one to show me."

We kissed, soft again, super slow. I was hard but not eager to cum again, just enjoying the proximity to him. I could feel Granddad's cock plump out, too. It was dark out, pitch black dark, and we had only the light of the bedlamp. I had no idea what time it was, but my stomach rumbled.

That got his attention. He pulled back and looked me up and down. I had the feeling I was his Christmas present, more than the electric razor. "Let's get some food in you, buddy. And we can take our time with the rest, OK?"

I got up. Granddad handed me one of his T-shirts and a spare pair of sweats. I loved wearing his clothes, and I loved that he trusted me to start a fire in the fireplace while he made us some burgers. Granddad is particular about the fireplace being set up and lit the proper way.

Even if the meal was casual, washed down with cans of cold lager, it felt like the most special date night I could imagine.

Maybe I was a little too silent as I ate. Even when I was done, I sipped my beer and looked at Granddad Paul's handsomeness and felt like the luckiest man.

"What are you thinking, Drew?" he asked softly.

I blushed. "Just crushing out on you a little, sir. Sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be sorry. I'm crushing out on you, too, buddy. More than a little."

I felt flush hot with desire and emotion now. I threw hard, I couldn't help. Granddad noticed and chuckled. "Just be patient with me, Killer, I'm an old man and don't have the sex drive I once did."

My turn to laugh. "You do just fine, sir." This time I took the initiative, setting down my beer and moving over to kiss him.

I lost track of time again. Both of us did. I never fished my beer. I was tired enough anyway, when Granddad wordlessly led me back to his bedroom. Our bedroom for the week. No more sex that night, just spoon naked against one another. But Grandad Paul was right: we had all the time we wanted to take together.

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Freak like me

Sheep in wolf's clothing 🐑

I'm sorry my shalylaaa (the one who looked up my blog because I don't post smut)

Smut warning ⚠️ heavy smut!

Synopsis - you have been confidently declaring that you are better than every woman he had maybe him too , as you said, you were probably the best woman he had in bed , but were you confident as you said you were ? When you actually got in action?

Warnings ⚠️ : degradation, praising, some graphic sexual details , 2nd embrassment. (Enjoy you freaks) Ngl i think it's kind of cringe ☹️ please drop your opinions

"i bet I'm better than any girls you had before"

"i bet I can do 100 positions in one go"

"You think you can handle me, big guy? I doubt it."

"I don’t just talk, Toji—I deliver."

"I’ll have you begging for more by the end of the night."

"You’re about to see why no one ever forgets me."

"Don’t go falling in love with me after this, yeah?"

"You might be strong, but in bed? I’m the one in charge."

"Bet you won’t even last against me."

It started with confidence.

The air between you two was thick, charged with something electric. You sat perched on the barstool, one leg crossed over the other, a lazy smirk tugging at your lips as you watched Toji lean against the counter across from you. Arms crossed, muscles flexing beneath his black compression shirt, that same unimpressed look in his sharp green eyes.

Like he’d seen a hundred women say the same thing before.

Well, he hadn’t met you.

“I bet I’m the best you’ve ever had,” you mused, swirling your drink, watching the ice clink against the glass. You flicked your gaze back to him, head tilting. “Every other woman? Forgettable.”

Toji exhaled a quiet scoff, shaking his head. “That so?”

“Mhm.” You set your drink down, standing to your full height. Not that it did much,he still towered over you, built like a damn mountain. But that didn’t matter. Confidence was everything.

“You might be strong, Toji, but in bed?” You stepped closer, letting your fingers ghost over his collarbone before dragging down the hard ridges of his chest. “I’m the one in charge.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. The closest thing to a laugh you’d gotten out of him yet.

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” His voice was low, thick with something unreadable.

You grinned. “Positive.” Another step, pressing yourself flush against him. “Bet you won’t even last against me.”

That did it. His smirk stretched wider, darker, something dangerous flashing in those eyes. His hands found your hips, grip firm, thumbs pressing into the fabric of your dress.

“You talk a big game,” Toji murmured, voice dropping lower, rougher. He leaned down, so close his breath brushed against your ear. “Bet you’ll be cryin’ for me to slow down in minutes.”

You didn’t waver. Didn’t flinch. Instead, you trailed a teasing finger up his jaw, nails scratching lightly against his stubbled chin. “Or maybe I’ll have you begging for more by the end of the night.”

Toji exhaled a sharp breath through his nose. Amused. Like he was really, really enjoying this.

Slowly, leisurely, he reached up and grabbed your wrist, guiding it away from his face. His grip was firm, unyielding.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice was almost mocking. “You think you’re dangerous?” He leaned in, lips barely brushing yours, teasing, taunting. “You’re just a sheep wearin’ wolf’s clothing.”

Your breath caught.

He tilted his head, mouth ghosting along the corner of your lips. “A real wolf?” A pause. Then, a quiet chuckle, low and condescending. “Would know better than to taunt me.”

Your stomach twisted, heat creeping up your spine.from well fear and arousal.

For the first time that night, you wondered if maybe,just maybe,you had made a mistake.

Toji pulled back slightly, watching you with hooded eyes, his smirk still in place. Like he was waiting. Waiting for you to back down, waiting for you to take it all back.

But you weren’t a coward.

So you swallowed hard, squared your shoulders, and smirked right back at him. “Guess you’ll just have to teach me a lesson, then.”

Toji exhaled another chuckle, tongue running along his teeth. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, “you have no idea what you just asked for.”

And here you were. At a public bar washroom. (Don't worry it's clean :3)

“T-Too much-”

you tried to muffle your moan, but it was useless. Your voice cracked, your body trembling as Toji worked his fingers deeper inside you, stretching you out mercilessly.

He scoffed, the sound low and amused. “Yeah? Thought you could take it,” he drawled, his other hand gripping your waist, keeping you in place. “Didn’t you say I’d be the one begging?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your pride hanging by a thread. But then he grabbed your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet your own reflection in the mirror in front of you.

And fuck--you looked so pathetic.

Tears clung to your lashes, lips swollen from biting them too hard, your body twitching with every slow, deliberate curl of his fingers inside you. Your legs were barely holding you up, thighs trembling as he continued his ruthless pace.

This was not what you had imagined when you proudly claimed you could handle him.

Maybe,just maybe,if you hadn’t been such a brat, if you hadn’t run your mouth so much, he would have been gentler with you.

But now?

Now, Toji was enjoying every second of breaking you apart.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear before biting down lightly. “Don’t tell me you’re already losin’ that attitude.” His fingers curled just right, and a helpless whimper escaped your lips before you could stop it.

His smirk was audible. “That’s what I thought.”

You couldn’t help but huff at his chuckle, frustration flickering through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

“Still giving me attitude?” Toji mused, voice thick with amusement. And then,fuck,he pushed his fingers deeper, knuckles brushing against your slick heat, stretching you further.

A muffled moan slipped past your lips, your hands gripping the edge of the sink like a lifeline.

“I-I’m not…” you stammered, barely managing the words between shaky breaths. You tried,really tried,to stay silent, to keep your voice down. It was a public bathroom, for fuck’s sake. Anyone could walk in.

But Toji? He didn’t give a damn.

He moved like he owned the place, like he owned you,fucking you with his fingers as if there weren’t a risk of someone hearing the obscene wet sounds echoing off the tiled walls.

Your thighs clenched together in a weak attempt to control the way your body betrayed you, but he only scoffed, gripping your jaw and forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror.

“Lyin’ now, too?” His smirk was downright sinful. “That little mouth of yours sure had a lot to say earlier. Where’d all that confidence go, huh?”

You looked up at him, your vision hazy, lips parted as your body tensed. Your legs were trembling, your grip on the sink unsteady as you felt the pressure building too fast, too strong,

“C-Coming… mhh—coming,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

Toji chuckled. “Do as you will.”

And so you did. Your body convulsed, waves of pleasure crashing over you as your moans spilled out uncontrollably. Your head fell forward, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath.

But just as you thought he was done, just as you tried to regain control-

He pushed his fingers back in.

Your entire body jolted, a choked cry escaping your throat as the oversensitivity hit you like a shockwave.

“W-What are you doing?” you stammered, eyes wide in disbelief.

Toji only smirked, his movements slow and deliberate as he worked you through the aftershocks, ignoring the way you squirmed against him. And then, finally—finally—he pulled his fingers out, slick and glistening under the dim bathroom light.

Without a shred of shame, he brought them to his lips and licked them clean, his tongue running over his knuckles with a satisfied hum.

“Told you,” he murmured, locking eyes with you in the mirror. “All bark, no bite.”

He may have thought he’d fucked the attitude out of you, but clearly, he hadn’t done a good enough job.

With what little strength you had left, you reached for the faucet, casually turning the knob before scooping up a handful of water,and splashing it right at him.

The droplets hit his face, running down his sharp jaw and soaking into his shirt.

For a second, he just stood there, stunned.

Then you laughed, breathless and shaky, but victorious nonetheless. “Oh, fuck you, Toji.”

You leaned against the sink, still catching your breath, your body spent but your spirit unbroken.

Toji blinked, processing what you’d just done. Then, instead of getting mad, he let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“Yeah…” He exhaled another laugh, tongue clicking against his teeth as he looked at you with something dark and amused. “That’s what I thought. You wouldn’t surrender till I break you, huh? You stupid little brat.”

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard. Maybe,you had just made things a lot worse for yourself.

But you weren’t just some girl who would submit so easily.

Toji was an experienced man,he had met all kinds of women. Persistent ones, submissive ones, women who thought they could take him and ones who never even tried. Some had an attitude like yours, thinking they could match him, thinking they could prove something.

Or so he thought.

“I told you, Toji,” you said, your voice steady as you splashed cold water on your face, cooling the heat that still burned in your cheeks. “I’m better.”

He smirked at your bluntness, the persistence in your tone amusing him more than it should have.

“I disagree.”

Your expression faltered just for a second.

That little spark of irritation flickered inside you, though you tried to push it down. You were mature, an adult, and there was no reason to let his words get under your skin. But as you wiped your face dry, you couldn’t help but think— what the fuck am I doing? Why did I even want to prove myself in the first place?

Then, you smirked.

No. You weren’t proving anything.

You were simply better.

Before you could spiral deeper into your thoughts, Toji reached past you and twisted the faucet off. “You’re wasting water.”

You turned to him, your smirk never fading. “My bad.”

And then, without hesitation, you dropped to your knees.

Toji raised an eyebrow, watching you with lazy amusement, arms folding over his broad chest. His smirk widened as he tilted his head. “Wow… that’s impressive.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, your fingers gently,very gently, almost teasingly,traced his waistband before moving lower. You could feel the heat of his stare burning into you as you dragged the zipper down with agonizing slowness.

Your touch was featherlight as you ran your fingertips over the growing bulge in his pants, letting out a quiet hum of approval.

“Oh,” you murmured, tracing over him with the lightest of touches, “nice.”

And then, finally, you pulled him free.

Toji let out a slow breath through his nose, watching as you leaned in, lips parting

But instead of giving him what he wanted, you gave him the bare minimum.

Soft, teasing kitten licks. Barely touching him. Just enough to entice, to frustrate, to play with him.

Toji inhaled sharply through his nose, jaw tensing as his fingers curled at his sides.

You thought he was at his limits and thought he'll do something to take control but.

Didn’t shove you down like you half expected him to.

Instead, he exhaled a slow, measured breath and,smiled.

That slow, knowing, almost dangerous kind of smile.

You kept your gaze on him, watching for any shift in his expression as your tongue flicked against the tip, just the barest touch,deliberate, calculated, meant to test his patience.

Toji’s smirk didn’t falter, but you saw the flicker of something darker in his eyes, a warning hidden beneath the amusement.

“Teasing, huh?” His voice was smooth, composed, but there was a weight behind it that made your stomach flip.

You hummed against him, lashes fluttering as you barely parted your lips, giving him another soft, kittenish lick, slow and lazy. You could feel the way his thighs tensed under your hands, could hear the controlled inhale he took through his nose.

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t yank your hair, didn’t push your head down.

No—he was waiting.

Waiting to see how far you’d take this.

A game of patience.

And you weren’t about to lose.

Your fingers wrapped loosely around the base, your touch featherlight, stroking him in slow, teasing motions. You licked again,barely, just the tip, just enough to promise but not give.

His smirk widened.

“Cute.” His voice was almost mocking, his head tilting as he looked down at you. “You think you’re in control right now, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer, only tracing the tip of your tongue along his length, barely pressing down, keeping the touches fleeting, torturous. You felt the way his cock twitched in your grip, the way his muscles tensed, his body betraying the calm façade he wore so well.

But Toji Fushiguro was nothing if not patient.

You dragged your tongue along the underside, pressing just a little firmer, sucking softly at the tip before pulling away again, relishing the way his breath hitched,barely noticeable, but you caught it.

You smirked. Got you.

“Y’know,” Toji murmured, voice still maddeningly composed, “most girls in your position would be choking on it by now.”

You only smiled, tilting your head as you licked another slow stripe along his length. “And yet,” you mused, eyes flicking up to his, “you’re still standing here, letting me play with you.”

His expression flickered,just for a moment.

Then he chuckled.

A deep, rumbling sound that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, reaching down.

Before you could react, his fingers threaded into your hair, gripping ,not too hard, but just enough to remind you who was really in control.

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

And then, with a firm tug, he pushed you down.

Toji didn’t waste a second.

One moment, you were on your knees, teasing him with your little game,thinking you had control.

The next, you were lifted effortlessly onto the sink, your back pressing against the cool mirror as he yanked your clothes off with zero patience, tearing fabric where necessary, leaving you bare and exposed in the dim light of the public bathroom.

Your breath hitched as he did the same to his own clothes, his toned body towering over you, his smirk never fading.

“Still feeling cocky, sweetheart?” he murmured, trailing rough hands up your thighs, parting them with ease. “Or do I need to remind you who’s in charge?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words never came.

Because the moment he pressed against you,hot, thick, heavy,all your false bravado melted away.

“Nngh—Toji—” You barely had time to brace yourself before he pushed in, stretching you open in a way that had your head falling back against the mirror. “Ah—ahh! Too much—”

But he didn’t stop.

Didn’t ease you into it.

He bottomed out with one smooth thrust, groaning at the way you clenched around him, tight and wet and struggling to take him.

“Yeah?” His breath was warm against your neck as he pulled back only to snap his hips forward again, making you cry out. “Thought you could handle it. Didn’t you say you were the best?”

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails leaving crescent marks against his skin as you gasped and moaned, overwhelmed by the way he filled you,stretched you in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

“T-Toji—ah—fuck—”

“Mm, that’s cute.” His voice was laced with amusement, but his thrusts were anything but gentle, relentless, deep, pushing you further against the sink. “Where’d that confidence go, huh? Thought you were better than every woman I had?”

You whimpered, legs trembling as you tried,tried,to form words, but all that came out were breathy, broken moans.

“Ahh—ahh—nghh!”

He groaned, one hand gripping your waist, the other reaching up to wrap around your throat,not squeezing, just holding, keeping you still as his pace grew rougher, hungrier.

“Fucking knew it,” he muttered, his tone dripping with satisfaction as he watched your face twist with pleasure. “. All bark, no bite.”

Your thighs squeezed around him, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

“Toji—ahh—please—”

“Please?” His grin was wicked, his thrusts turning sharper, deeper, sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. “That’s a good girl. Beg me a little more.”

You barely had the strength to fight back anymore, your body betraying you as it welcomed every rough movement, every sharp thrust, every filthy word he muttered against your skin.

“S’too much—ahh—Toji—Toji—”

His grip tightened just slightly, enough to make your breath hitch as he slammed into you, making you see stars.

“Mm, that’s right, baby,” he groaned, voice thick with pleasure as he watched you come undone beneath him. “Sing for me.”

(SING THIS MAN IS INSANE)

You could barely think, barely breathe as he pounded into you, every thrust pushing you further against the cool mirror, making your already shaky legs tremble. Your head lolled back, lips parted as moans spilled freely, no longer controlled, no longer measured.

But still,still,you refused to let him have the last word.

Between gasps and moans, you tried to gather yourself, tried to claw back even a sliver of the control that was slipping so easily from your grasp. Your fingers tangled into his dark hair, yanking him closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you tried to steady your voice.

“You’re-ngh-not even that good,” you lied, voice shaky, breathless.

Toji stilled.

Just for a second.

Then he chuckled, the sound dark and dripping with amusement.

“Oh?” His grip on your waist tightened, fingers pressing bruises into your skin as he snapped his hips forward, making you cry out. “That so?”

Your body shook against the mirror, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as he leaned in, his teeth grazing your neck.

“You sound like a bitch in heat, sweetheart.” His voice was low, rough, teasing. “But go ahead*keep pretending.”

Your breath hitched, your hands gripping at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

“I—I’m not—”

“You’re not?” He scoffed, pressing his forehead against yours, watching as your face twisted in pleasure with every deep thrust. “Then why are you clenching so tight around me, huh?”

Your only response was a broken moan, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper, your body betraying every word you tried to say.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” His lips curled into a smirk as he rolled his hips in slow, deliberate circles, making your toes curl. “Keep lying, baby. It’s cute.”

You hated how smug he was.

Hated how easily he saw through you.

With whatever strength you had left, you tugged at his hair, forcing him to look at you, forcing yourself to smirk even as your body trembled against him.

“I bet you’re close,” you whispered, voice laced with false confidence, ignoring the way your own orgasm was creeping up on you like a tidal wave. “I can feel you twitching.”

Toji exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking his head in amusement.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours, teasing you with a kiss he wouldn’t give. “You really don’t know when to shut up.”

Then,without warning,he changed the angle, thrusting deeper, hitting a spot that had your entire body jerking, a loud, desperate moan ripping from your throat before you could stop it.

Your vision blurred.

Your nails scratched down his back.

Your smirk—your bravado—was gone.

Toji grinned, watching as your face crumbled, watching as you fell apart right in front of him.

“Thought so,” he murmured.

Your body tensed, back arching as a sharp, broken cry tore from your throat.

“Toji—ahh—fuck—I—”

He felt it before you could even say it,your walls tightening, fluttering around him, the desperate way your fingers dug into his skin as your climax crashed over you, shattering whatever was left of your composure.

Your thighs trembled, breath hitching as wave after wave of pleasure wrecked you, leaving you dizzy, helpless.

But Toji wasn’t done.

“Oh, you’re cute,” he murmured, pounding through your orgasm, refusing to let you come down from your high, his grip unrelenting. “Look at you,moaning like a bitch after all that talk.”

You whimpered, shaking your head, trying,failing-to push at his chest, your body too overstimulated, too sensitive.

“Toji—ahh—nngh—w-wait—”

“Wait?” He chuckled darkly, watching as your body twitched with every deep thrust, your breath stuttering. “Oh, sweetheart, I decide when we’re done.”

You gasped, whimpering as he chased his own high, his thrusts growing more erratic, more desperate, deeper, forcing your already-sensitive body to the brink again.

“Nngh—ahh—shit—” His voice was rough, strained, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning as he spilled into you, warmth flooding your core.

Your body shuddered at the sensation, your breath catching, legs still trembling around his waist as you tried to process the mess you both made.

For a moment, there was only the sound of heavy breathing,yours, uneven and hitched, his, deep and steady.

Then Toji smirked, pressing a lazy kiss against your shoulder.

“You good, sweetheart?”

You glared at him,tried to, at least. But your legs were weak, your body still recovering from the way he wrecked you.

Toji grinned at your silence.

“That’s what I thought.”

Limping slightly, you adjusted your clothes, swallowing down the mix of embarrassment and satisfaction still buzzing through your body. Your pride had taken a hit, sure, but you weren’t about to let him see that.

"Yeah, yeah, you won, whatever," you grumbled, rolling your eyes.

Toji leaned back against the sink, arms crossed, his smirk never leaving his face. The bastard looked completely relaxed,like he hadn’t just spent the last hour ruining you in the filthiest way possible.

For a second, you debated flipping him off and leaving, but your legs weren’t exactly cooperating.

You huffed and turned to walk away, but before you could take more than a few shaky steps, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

"Well…" he drawled, voice thick with amusement. "You weren’t entirely wrong about one thing."

You arched a brow, glancing over your shoulder. "Oh? And what’s that?"

His smirk widened.

"You were better than all of them," he admitted, his voice deep, rough. "Too persistent. Had fun taking you on."

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected praise. You shouldn’t have cared, but your ego did swell a little.

"Uh… thanks, I guess?" You feigned indifference, trying not to seem too pleased.

Toji simply chuckled, watching as you tried and failed to walk away without looking like you’d just been thoroughly wrecked.

You paused by the door, gripping the handle before glancing back at him.

"So," you said casually, "you gonna give me your number or what?"

He snorted. "Pfft. Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart, but I got a Nokia."

You blinked. "You what?"

"A Nokia," he repeated, completely unfazed. "Brick phone. Real sturdy."

You just stared at him. This huge, terrifying man, who had just spent an hour proving he could break you in half, was out here carrying around a Nokia like it was still 2005.

You didn’t mean to, but you burst out laughing.

"Jesus Christ," you wheezed, shaking your head. "You are ancient."

Toji smirked, clearly amused by your reaction.

Still laughing, you reached for your phone. "Want me to buy you a real one?"

"Oh, yeah" he shot back smoothly. "Guess that’s the winner’s prize, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "You wish."

Toji just grinned, lazily adjusting his pants, the satisfied gleam in his eyes telling you he definitely thought he won.

You roller your eyes before looking at him again. "At this bar again , 8 pm?"

"you bet" he replied.

[christinarowie332]

these people are naughty….

matt and chris sturniolo discover tumblr …..

chris sturn x reader oneshot imagine

warnings : sexual conversations

if y’all see your fic names do a little dance

this was written out of pure boredom

———-

“im home!!!” my voice rang through the triplets living room as i walk into their house , closing the door behind me and walking towards the kitchen. it’s there i see matt’s face , and the back of my boyfriend’s head .

“hi y/n” matt says with a smile that reaches his eyes , squinting them slightly while laughing.

“hello matthew, what’s so funny?” i ask walking over to chris who still hasn’t even acknowledged my presence, but that changes as i reach his shoulders and place my hands on them , his head falls back and looks at me upside down . i lean forward and kiss his forehead, pulling away seeing a big goofy smile from him and him greeting me finally “hi mama” before he looks forward again .

“me and chris were just scrolling through some anonymous confessions on that tiktok account” matt reply’s before bringing his bottle of water to his lips and taking a sip , scrolling down on his phone screen making another confession show up causing him to laugh again.

i put my hands through chris’s hair from behind him , his eyes shutting and leaning his head back at my touch . “where’s nick?” i ask , noticing the absence, looking round thinking i maybe missed him on the sofa .

“he’s upstairs editing i think , should be down in a sec , how was work?” chris says while looking up at me through his eyebrows, his head fully tipped back making his adam apple stick out from his neck . “work was good , i mean i didn’t stop all day and i’m tired as fuck but like , i like the chaos” i reply while walking towards the fridge backwards , watching chris watch me as i move . “you have to like the chaos to be with that kid” matt says , his eyes still glued to his phone as he scrolls through the account . “these people are actually insane bro have u seen this account?” he continues, turning around in his chair to show me the confession . i squint my eyes slightly and grab his hand to steady the phone infront of me , the confession read ‘this might be wierd but do you think chris has a mommy kink …. i mean kid SCREAMS it but idk i might just be reading too much into it’

i laugh at the words and read them out loud to chris , making his mouth drop in shock as he attempts to grab the phone from matt . “the only crazy part about that is that it’s true” i say making chris get up from his seat and try to run towards me , i close the fridge quickly and attempt to run away from him. i fail . i erupt into giggles as his arms wrap around me , lifting my slightly. his head makes his way into the crook of my neck , rubbing his slight stubble into the skin making me laugh and squirm away from him . “i do not have a fucking mommy kink!” he exclaims as he puts me down , flicking his hair out of his face with his hands and walking towards the fridge .

“hmmm i don’t knowwww , u did call her mama when she got here” matt says , his lips falling into a line as he looks around with his eyes dramatically.

“that’s not a fucking ‘kink’ you weirdo , it’s just a name , it’s just a joke …..” he replies to his brother , sitting back in his seat at the table , a light blush coating his cheeks .

“whatever dude , i don’t need to know either way . the comments are even crazier , half of them are calling the anon a weirdo and the other half are all saying it’s me with the mommy kink ….. WAIT WHAT DID I DO?!?” matt says before frantically scrolling through the comments now . “what the fuck is ‘tumblr’ ?”

my head snaps towards matt . knowing full well what that app is from my highschool days . “hold on …there’s a sturniolo side to tumblr ?”. i ask walking towards him , pulling out the chair next too matt and moving it towards him .

“i guess , wait do u know ‘tumblr?’” he asks turning towards me , i keep my eyes on his phone and scroll down on the screen watching a few people talk about different things but most was all talking about ‘fics’ .

“yeah dude it’s like wattpad but on crack . like fully sex fan fictions bro . that’s crazy” i say , dragging the ‘crazy’ and laughing under my breath . “wait lemme download the app real quick” matt says while grabbing the pepsi from my hand to give to chris .

i take a seat next to chris , pushing it closer to lie shoulder to shoulder with him , watching his phone screen as he scrolls through tiktok laughing at videos together . after a while matt speaks up telling us he had made an account on tumblr .

“bro the top posts for sturniolos are literally just sex story’s , they got that one right .” he spins his phone around and shows us the top story being about his being good at giving head , me and chris roll our eyes before chris grabs his phone to scroll through it with me . his thumb moves down the phone screen . us both reading the titles of each fic , “too damn long ? oh you haven’t jerked off apparently baby . sit on my fucking face , first time , no nut november, eyes up , taking of the virginity… WOW CHRIS YOUR A FREAK IN THIS ONE-” i list out the names before chris puts a hand over my mouth causing me to giggle into his soft skin .

“wait till they find out i’ve never even held hands with a woman” matt says , grabbing his phone from his brothers hand whilst he is distracted looking at me . making both me and chris turn the look at him stupidly , the very obvious fact that he indeed in a man whore . “bro you literally just called yourself a munch” chris says to matt , moving his hand from my mouth and opening his own phone to text nick about the new app they discovered .

“you guys like have to react to these in a video , this is like insane” i say to chris through laughs.

“im pretty sure the only app we could upload that video to would be only fans , these people are naughty”

—————

i laugh and giggle funny ha ha .

taglist :

@mangosrar @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @querenciasturniolo @ermdontmindthisaccount @recklesssturniolo @tackycrown @udonotknowme @urmyslxt @iheart2021chris @its-jennarose @oversturn @paper-crab @strniohoeee @slut4chr1s @daddyslilchickenfingers @freshlovehacker @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @kvtie444 @loveesiren @lustfulslxt @lunarsturniolo @lovingsturniolo @chrisenthusiast @bluesturniolo333 @nickenthusiast @mattslolita @mattsbratt @chrisolivia4l @fredswh0re @rac00ns-are-c00l4

[n0tamused]

Hi! Can I get prompt 13. "Taking a bath together" with Jon Snow? It's definitely a romance req. Thank you in advance!💋

₊˚⊹Jon Snow x Reader

Prompt 13. Taking a Bath together

A/n: I haven't written for bbg Jon in a while so I do hope I did him well, please enjoy! <3

Contents: Jon Snow x GN reader, fluff, non-sexual nudity

Words: 693

Ko-Fi |  1.5K followers event

Jon Snow sighs as the steaming water laps up to his chest, water nearly scalding hot, but after the cold had chilled his bones the very same day he couldn’t find himself complaining. You tipped the bucket upside down, letting the last of the water pour into the wooden tub before setting it aside. The thick robe you wore slipped from your shoulders and pooled at your feet before you entered the tub on the opposite end of Jon. His eyes had keenly followed you, having observed the curve of your back and then your arms and legs, too embarrassed to speak up but too far in love to look away. A foolish boy, he told himself as he found the courage to cast a smile your way, feeling like a green boy, no older than Bran or Rickon.

You had walked so casually around him, nearly prancing as you undressed him and filled the tub full of water that hugged him, and he would have told you how sweet the gesture was were it not for that coy smile you were currently wearing. He knew you were hiding something, but dared not to guess what. 

“Have I done something to earn so much silence from you? Is it that you mean to drown me tonight?” he spoke up as he adjusted himself in the tub, one arm on a ledge, his feet brushing up against you. His tone was light, but significantly softer than the tone ‘Lord Snow’ addressed the brothers of the Night’s Watch. He had been growing a little bit of a stubble, something you often commented on, how he was growing into the Old Bear’s shoes or how more serious he looked. He seemed avoidant of such comments, suddenly getting this small, barely noticeable pout before coming up with a good retort. Perhaps he was still in disbelief himself, in hindsight so many things happened, it made one feel not so real or alive.

Thankfully, the nights like these served as a good reminder that he was still there, and even if you did plan to drown him, you’d find no complaint within him. 

You chuckle at his comment before moving closer, settling between his knees and looping your arms about his neck. “Silence? I simply enjoy watching you squirm and blush, Jon. You’re red as an apple right now” you grinned at him, his eyes half lidded and amused as they watched you, his smile growing bigger. He found no shame in his blush now, he had blushed before you before and he’d do it countless times more. 

“Is that so? The whole day you’ve been attempting to talk to me while I worked, but only now have you remembered to be quiet?” he playfully taunted, his other hand reaching up from the water to tuck away a strand of hair behind your ear. Little drops of water raced down your cheek where his wet hand had touched you. You were drawing closer.

“I do admit it is quite amusing seeing you acting all serious, clad all in thick black cloaks and furs, but it gets old, you understand? I ask you something and you tell me, in that gruff voice o’ yours ‘that is no behaviour fit for your office’, or ‘perhaps having you up patrol the walls would do you some good’. That is why I relish moments like these.. I can be as chatty or as quiet as I want, and you’re all mine..” you smiled watching him laugh at your imitation of him. Lord Snow would have scolded you further and he wouldn’t have laughed nearly as much at your jest, but Jon was as sweet as spring snow. 

“You only want attention, is that it?” he inquired as he brushed his nose against yours. 

“Perhaps I might want that” you huffed, your gaze hardening as you looked into his eyes, not attempting to hide the fire within them. “Perhaps I might get some, at long last?”

“Aye. Perhaps you might” he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, his arm slipping around you to pull you into a hug, closer to him. 

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 3.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content and mention of sex toy. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.1 (Sunshine)

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 900 (blurb and bullet points and a bittersweet-wholesome ending scene)

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

A/N: Woop I'm early today! Happy 3rd Advent sweeties! If you want to be tagged for the next parts, just let me know. And tell me what you think! Now enjoy! 🦊

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

3rd Dec. - Lights Out

It’s the 3rd December, Dean’s coming back from a repairing session on Baby just to find the light switch of his bunker’s bedroom not working.

“Close the door,” You command in an unusual voice of authority.

Dean’s skeptical at first, the thought of not seeing you is one thing but you know him better than that; what really makes him nervous is the fact that he’ll have no control like this - and that’s exactly your goal.

After a sultry “Come on Dean, today’s my turn to surprise you...” he finally closes the door behind him, plunging the room into complete darkness, “Babe, it’s totally dark in here, I can’t see shit…” he chuckles in mock-annoyance.

“Yeh, that’s the point of the game.” You reply with a mischievous smile on your face, “This’ll make things more interesting again.”

Now that you’ve got Dean’s attention, the thought of not being able to see at all is suddenly strangely arousing to him and he licks his lips before he replies with a warning, “Watch out you little minx, I’m gonna getcha.”

You feel excited and tingling from the lack of visual; the unpredictability and how your senses are heightened.

The sound of your or Dean’s breathing in the silence is the only help in trying to pin-point the others location

The deep and raspy voice of Dean makes you shiver as you try to guess his whereabouts

When he stands close to you, you can feel the heat of his body in the darkness

You feel the air shifting and his presence near you, the slightest change in breath or movement of him feels much more intense than usual

You can hear your own heartbeat increase, hammering in your ears

With your sense of smell heightened, his scent is almost intoxicating

You smell all the different scents that cling to him; worn leather, a hint of whiskey, a faint aroma of musk and sweat, a lingering trace of the cheap motel shampoo from the other day and a mix of motor oil from Baby, gunpowder and rock-salt.

Even though Dean knows your body like the back of his hand by now, he explores your skin with a newfound excitement now that he’s completely reliant on his other senses

You feel Dean’s calloused fingers run over your body, tracing your skin over every inch, slow and deliberate as if he was to map out the smallest detail

The first touch of his fingertips on you leave a trail of goosebumps on your entire body

You’re so hyperaware that every touch to your skin feels like a spark

You feel Dean’s stubbles graze the inside of your thighs, slowly moving upwards

Coordination is a real challenge without seeing anything and you soon find out the hard way that you need to take it slow or one of you will definitely end up knocked out

Dean accidentally knocks his knee into your ribs and you tumble over the edge of the bed with a loud groan as you both hit the ground and he lands on top of you

Dean grunts in pain as you in return give him a blow to the jaw when you jolt your head back - but despite the pain he chuckles in a little strained voice, still amused, “Careful, baby… I need my pretty face for hunting.”

“You wearin’ your pretty little gift, sunshine?” (Are you?) “Ya know, chances are, I’ll end up picking the wrong hole in this darkness,” he jokes huskily, his hands gripping and squeezing your hips as he grinds against you from behind

Every sensation feels like a surprise and ten times more intense as you rub against each other

Dean’s pleading for more as he can’t anticipate any of your next moves and only feels your hot breath on his thighs and cock

Dean moans as loud as ever when your lips just as much as graze the tip of his cock

Dean pulls you back by the foot as you try to hide from him

Dean pins your wrists or ankles down, in a desperate attempt to keep some form of control

Dean’s surprisingly sensual and slow going as he pounds into you, both of his hands constantly running up and down your sides

Dean teases you by stopping mid-motion once every thrust, enjoying the small whimpers of you as you can’t anticipate his next harder thrust that makes you whine and tremble

Meanwhile he maps out your body with wet kisses and tongue swipes while he listens to your smallest change of breath and increasing moans

Time seems to stand still as you both fall over the edge with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had

The experience leaves both of you dizzy, exhausted and panting as you crawl on top of Dean to rest your head on his chest, his heart beating against your ear.

Snuggled up to his chest, Dean thinks you’ve finally fallen asleep. He strokes your hair gingerly, his chin resting on your head when his features grow pensive and he murmurs against your hair, “Ya know…I’m attracted to you like a moth to light. I’ve always been. That’s why I believe we’ll always find back to each other, even in the darkest times… My own little sunshine.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@deaniemyboo @deansjacket @literallylexa

[sunsbaby]

❝ de. i think i'm stuck... ❞

❝ sam will you help me! gosh... ❞

⋆ dean w. & sam w. x photographer .ᐟ reader

ever since you began hunting with the boys, their life went in a new direction. they found themselves appreciating the little things a bit more—such as taking photos, just on their phones and not a huge camera. sam had taken more of an interest than dean, following you around and secretly 'learning' from you. dean, however, he didn't care for it, but somehow he always took the best photos. albeit some are rather embarrassing, like you with pie all over your face, but they were fond memories and a way for him to relive the moment again.

"biride, hurry up. we don't have all day." dean groaned, his head falling back as he dramatically rolled his eyes.

sam stood on the side-lines, too busy in whatever lore he was reading to focus on the important matter at hand—important in your words. there was a beautiful bird high up in a tree, one that you had to climb in order to get close enough; that's how you ended up perched on a branch, camera held tightly in your grasp as you shot a look down towards dean.

"de, do not distract me or so help me god i will break this camera on your head!" you threatened in a hushed whisper as to not scare away the creature in front of you. "and you will buy me a new one."

"yea right, birdie. you won't do anything, and i'm not buying you anything." dean teased, sam let out a sigh—he gave dean 'the look.'

somehow sam thought this was the perfect moment to take a picture of, their birdie trying to take a photo of a bird. he let out a chuckle as his finger pressed the button on his phone, a snapping sound echoed through the trees when you both clicked a button at the same time. the bird flew away, but you were successful. celebrating your victory with a little dance—to which dean face-palmed at.

when you attempted to get down, you realized something was off. you quite literally could not climb down. your lips pursed and you tried to come up with a plan inside your head—which was filled with song lyrics and what else you could take a picture of. not helpful, so you resorted to your only other option. sam and dean!

"de. i think i'm stuck..." your voice was almost quiet, which dean took as an opening to tease you.

"huh? what was that birdie? i can't hear your chirping from down here." he said, that dumb grin etched onto his face—a face you couldn't wait to smack.

"sam, will you help me!" you almost yelled as a pout formed on your glossy lips—no dry lips around here! "gosh..."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

after that stressful part of the day, you settled into the backseat of baby while the boys sat in the front. people might think that you're being forced to sit in the back—no, it's actually the opposite. who wants to sit between two men, especially ones who spread their legs like they're the only ones sitting there. at least in the back you can lay down, and not think about the sexual activities that have gone down. it makes for a great way to take pictures of them with out their knowledge.

"can we stop at a gas station, i want snacks." you asked as you poked your head into the front, turning up the music in the process.

"i could go for some too." sam joked, his eyes focusing in on yours.

a soft smile played at his lips—he couldn't imagine life without you. you'd just walst into it and changed them for the better. no matter how far you went, your wings always brought you back.

"i guess, birdie..." dean grumbled, he knew good and well that he couldn't say no to you. neither could sam. "shut up, bitch." dean joked with sam, a genuine smile forming on deans stubbled face.

"jerk."

the sun faded in the background as you sang out into the sky, the wind tangling in your hair. another day spent with your boys and memories made. that was what a good day is to you.

sunny yaps! HIII EVERYONEE! 👯‍♀️ photographer!readers first little story/drabble! i hope you guys like her and pls share your thoughts and opinions! I LOVE HEARING THEM!

special tags! @bluemerakis @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @sunsettsam @h8aaz @deansbeer

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[crumbledcastle28]

Din Djarin: Creaky

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no use of pronouns or y/n)

Summary: You give Din his first kiss.

The air filled with what sounded like the hissing of steam, but you knew it was not. You felt the weight of the helmet dip into the bed near your still locked hands.

You exhaled shakily. “Okay?”

Din’s raw, unfiltered voice hit your ears for the first time. “Okay.”

Warnings: talkative, nervous reader, kissing, sensuality but nothing overtly sexual, Din's mouth doesn't talk much, but his body sure does.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I guess my role on tumblr is to disappear until dincember. For the second year in a row, this is dedicated to @dindjarindiaries and their incredible dincember works.

If you would like to leave a like, comment, ask, reblog, or comment, it would be much appreciated <3

Din Works (and some more Pedro characters as well if you're interested)

My Masterlist

“This is…actually better than I expected.”

There was a chuckle from Din’s modulator as you jostled yourself up and down on his cot. He shut the door to his cabin which, given the Crest’s size, was not the word you would use to describe the small bedroom.

“Much more bouncy.”

You were filling the air with words that meant nothing. But that really wasn’t their purpose, was it? To mean anything?

No. They were meant to cut through the wool-thick ineptitude that both you and Din had in this moment. More so you, if you were being perfectly honest.

“You’re telling me you’ve never kissed anyone? Ever?”

Silence. “Never.”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t found a person I trust enough.”

“Do you trust me?”

You didn’t think he would actually say yes.

“A little creaky,” you continued on, “but, eh, it’s better than sleeping on the floor. I still don’t think I needed that new mattress before you did, though. Can’t believe you used all the credits from your last job for that. I mean, we have a baby alien with a rag for clothing. You don’t think there could have been better uses –”

Din sat next to you and placed a palm onto your hand.

“This becomes you.”

“Well I don’t know. Din,” you said, frustrated. “I’ve never…been someone’s first kiss. Well, maybe I have, but I didn’t know it. It isn’t really something one plans out like this –”

He squeezed onto the hand he held. You fluttered your eyes shut.

“Sorry,” you said with a laugh. “Sorry. I really shouldn’t be the nervous one here. Not that you should be nervous – you really shouldn’t – it’s easy! It’s, I guess, natural? Like – your body kind of figures out what to do once you – well, once you –”

The room being shed of any semblance of light was Din’s answer. You sighed.

“Sorry.”

He made no response.

“Since when did you install a remote into your armor for the lights in this room specifically?”

The air filled with what sounded like the hissing of steam, but you knew it was not. You felt the weight of the helmet dip into the bed near your still locked hands.

You exhaled shakily. “Okay?”

Din’s raw, unfiltered voice hit your ears for the first time. “Okay.”

You scooted closer to him, feeling the heat from his body already. He had been wearing no armor besides the helmet, left only in a thin undershirt and pants. You were careful with how close you moved – you had no idea where his face was in relation to yours, and bumping chins or foreheads or noses at that moment would have been simply…

the worst.

“Okay,” you whispered. He smelled really, really good up close. “I’m – I’m going to touch your face. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Was that a quiver you detected in his voice?

 He had a beard – not too long, but not stubble either. Thick and…trimmed. It would only make sense. He never spent long in the bathroom. You worked your hands up his soft skin. Into silky, moused hair. You weaved it through your fingertips, drifting forward in your pursuit to memorize the waves’ lenity –

Which led you to, in fact, bump noses.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to…”

You inhaled through your nose, stopping yourself. You then placed your hands on his cheeks, using your left thumb to search for his lips. You found them already parted, exhaling deep, hot puffs of air.

“I’m…” you licked your lips, edging closer so cautiously the back of your neck began to ache. “Okay?” you whispered.

Din’s reply was a nod of his head. You felt the motion through the brush of his nose against the crevice between your own nose and cheek.

“Okay,” you replied, so quiet you didn’t even know if you said it aloud.

You moved forward and slotted your lips over his for barely two seconds. You pulled away.

It was too quick. You didn’t get to know if his lips were as soft and pillowed as you imagined them to be. You wanted to know if you were right. You wanted more.

“Okay?” you said.

Din sounded…breathless in his reply. Husky and deep. “Okay.”

You leaned in again. Pressed your lips over his. Moved them slightly.

You smiled against his mouth. You were right.

You kept up that motion for about thirty seconds – kissing either the bottom or top of Din’s soft, pillowed lips, feeling as he almost immediately understood the motion of it. The rhythm. The tenacity. He was so gentle with it – hesitant. You tried to propel him with your mouth – pull it ever so closer to yours by his cheeks. You pulled away with another smile.

“See? I told you it was easy.”

You could hear his breaths now. You waited for him to say something. Anything.

Maker, were you bad?

“Okay,” you said, dropping your hands from his cheeks, “well… you have officially been kissed, Din Djarin. If you need to take a walk. Take a shower. Go off to an abandoned planet and think about this experience, don’t worry, that’s totally nor –”

He surged you forward by the back of your neck like he needed you to breathe.

Once your brain allowed you to process the fever in which he was pressing his lips against yours, you reciprocated like you needed him the same.

His fingers gathered into your hair, into your scalp, and yours did the same to his.

He was not hesitant now – he was in. Pushing against your mouth like he had been doing this for years.

You had a feeling he would be a fast learner.

You drifted your hands down to his chest, running them up and down from his stomach back up to his throat. His seemed perfectly happy where they were.

You could have boiled alive in his lips kissing the bottom and top of yours as much as he possibly could, but you wanted.

Oh you wanted.

You slipped your tongue between the seam of his lips – barely an inch between them – and he opened for you like clouds open for rain; fully, and without indecision.

You brought your hands back up to his face – one covering his left cheek, the other the back of his skull – and positioned his face for your tongue to enter his mouth fully.

And he groaned.

You kissed him – really kissed him – just like that for a few moments, before pulling away, and trailing kisses across his jawline.

“Why…” he began. You paused. “Why did you not suggest this months ago? Years ago?”

You chuckled. “You’re a scary guy.” You traced your tongue down the tendons in his neck.

He liked your tongue.

He brought a hand up to your waist, giving it a squeeze. “Maker.”

You smiled again, trailing a hand over to his collarbone, across it, down his arm, gripping onto his bicep. His arms had always been your favorite.

You both released a similar noise at the squeeze.

“Knew you’d like that,” he said, pulling you away from his neck to kiss you on the mouth. He wrapped his right arm around your waist completely, pulling you into his lap, the entire bed creaking at the motion.

You knew he was flexing his arm purposely as he made this move. It was the entire reason he pulled you into him the way he did.

But maker if you didn’t let his want to impress you – to make you want him – seep into your very bones, and moan into his mouth at the feeling.

He kept you like that for a few more moments. On his lap, his big arm wrapped around you while the other hand framed your face and pushed back your hair as he kissed and kissed and kissed you. Like this, he was surrounding you. All encompassing.

You smiled as his tongue entered your mouth – at how much he had become in your eyes, how deeply you never wanted to leave.

You felt him smile too.

Tag list: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

@burned-dorito, @tiredbuthappyppy @em---r @just-a-sewer-goblinlin @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanprideerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkylee @stardust-galaxies @c4psicle @joelsflannell @mysun-n-stars@tateelii @darth-voder @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgothh @thesmutslut  @alastorhazbinbin @grincheveryday @reader8679 @cockscombkingdom

@lexloon @pauphs @enjoyyourlatttebitch

@miss-goldenweek

@darling-murdockk @1deadpool266 @queen-nothing-blogg @burnt-dorito @untitledareaa @julialoopeezz @daphne-turner @jediknightjanaa @sasakipspoststs

[koifly]

Toby headcanons

These are just some quick notes from my AU so I'm not going into too much detail with each headcanon!

-German, no not just German roots but he actually lives in Germany

-complex relationship with physical contact/affection

-talks a lot, but not very often. Either he's talking with no red string or is as silent as an owl's flight

-can't stand having a beard/stubble, HAS to shave or else he'll remind himself a bit too much of his dad

-fucked up hands through biting, picking and scratching

-freckles and moles everywhere, pale skin, eyebags

-dark brown hair+eyes, thick eyebrows, slightly hooked nose

-either dresses midwestern emo or how the marauders fandom portrays Remus Lupin since he thrifts his clothes because of the lack of money

-does the hand-flapping thing when he excitedly talks about something/someone that interests him

-DESPISES raw tomatoes

-pretty distant towards most of the creeps, only exceptions are Natalie, EJ, Kate and James (in that order btw, first is the person he's the closest to, last is the one he is, compared to the other three, most 'distant' to)

-prefers sweet snacks over salty snacks

-does the thumbs up+awkward smile thing whenever he didn't listen to what another person was saying to pretend that he did. Or when he's slightly weirded out by someone

-comparable to dogs, racoons and deers in a way

-prefers dogs over cats

-when stressed in the woods he usually sits down near flowers and rips them out before tearing them into smaller pieces

-that guy does NOT know how to properly take care of himself (forgets to eat, doesn't know how to cook etc...)

-unlabelled sexuality, if he likes someone he likes someone and doesn't really care about gender nor appearance

-still sometimes chews on his cheek which leads to his gash not properly healing

-secretly tries to befriend every damn animal he encounters but quickly gets frustrated and gives up when it ignores him/walks away from him

-gets forced to be Nina's makeup/fashion model sometimes (usually James is Nina's first victim but not always)

-Kate and him have a sibling relationship

-admires EJ in a lot of ways but has too much of a thick skull to actually admit that out loud

-sometimes leaves small handmade gifts and/or things he found in the woods in front of Nat's cabin such as bracelets, necklaces, knifes and all kinds of trinkets

-will instantly accuse others of taking his stuff when he doesn't find it just to find it 2 minutes later

-struggles to comfort others when they are crying/ having a breakdown/ etc......So he usually just awkwardly pats their back or sit beside them in silence

-huge Spiderman fanboy, has a lego Spiderman keychain on him at all times

-5'8 or 5'9 idk tho

-will try to get on peoples nerves just to see how they'll react

-hates authorities and people who act like their the boss/better than him

-will bark and bite (not literally, metaphorically)

-will see a rock and instantly compares it to someone's eyecolor/ haircolor (cough cough Nat cough cough...)

uhhhh yeah, that's some of them I guess

[kiradrabbles]

Ticci Toby x Afab reader NSFW alphabet

(hello! i may do an AMAB version of these if someone requests it :) in any case, enjoy!!)

A = Aftercare Toby isn't an expert on aftercare. He's mostly inexperienced with sex generally, and even then because he can't feel pain, temperature etc. he's not quite sure what exactly you need. But he'll get you a towel, and awkwardly offer you some water or a snack, hold you as close as possible and conk out on your tits cuddle you to sleep. Or he'll shower with you, but that ends up in another round usually. If you tell him anything specific, though? He'll make sure to do it every time, albiet a little nervously the first few. If he's bruised you by accident he'll kiss where he bruised and apologise, maybe get you an icepack if it really aches. And if you can't walk well? He'll carry you round 'till your legs work again.

B = Body part (his favourite body part) For an AFAB partner Toby is a tits man no question in my head. He's just.. A tits guy, what can I say? Flat chests, large chests, any. He'll smother his face in them and bite them and kiss them- also cuddle actually. Just use them as a pillow. Depending on how sensitive you are he'll incorporate this more or less into sex.

C = Cum Toby loves seeing his cum on you. That's it. He's messy too. He'll give backshots, face shots, tummy shots, anything and everything. This man is a menace.

D = Dirty secret Probably the fact that he's masturbated to you like.. A lot. And he has a ton of pictures he does it to. He isn't ashamed of it per se, he knows you know he finds you incredibly attractive, he just thinks you'll be creeped out by it.

E = Experience I headcanon Toby as a virgin, so you'd be his first.. Everything. Kiss, handjob, head, etc. So he's inexperienced - but he makes up for it with passion! Think about it, when would he have done all this? He was homeschooled for the majority of his life, and even then when he was at school he got bullied like hell for his tourettes. After he became a proxy he probably wouldn't have gotten the chance either. I guess he could have like.. Done some non-con stuff with a victim, but I really can't see him doing that idk.

F = favourite position He'll fuck in any position, but his favourite? If he's topping, this man will use his operator strength. He'll literally pick you up and fuck you. On the table, against the wall, he'd fuck you against a tree if you let him. He likes the power, and the view. Plus if you're held against him he can easily pop a titty in his mouth. If he's bottoming/taking it, mating press with him underneath. He likes the way you have a good view of his face, and can watch him moan and squirm. Plus he just likes the sensations.

G = Goofy (whether or not they're serious during sex) It depends, for Toby. Some days he's up for rough animalistic sex when he's feeling really pent up or stressed, During this he won't be exactly.. Serious, but he'll be too focused on everything else to mess around or make jokes with you. Otherwise? He can goof around a little. Play with you by picking you up and throwing you onto the bed, or biting places he knows you're ticklish.

H = Hair I think he'd be decently well trimmed down there. He wouldn't let it grow out into a bush, but he wouldn't be clean shaven unless his partner wanted it specifically. He also usually has a happy trail fuck you. Body hair? I feel like he doesn't bother to shave it (again, unless his partner prefers it). So he'll have hairy limbs and armpits. He also has some light stubble, which he shaves whenever he remembers, so it varies from clean shaven to the begginings of a beard.

I = Intimacy This man is NOT used to intimacy of any kind. Considering he only every got love from his dead sister? This fucker is probably so easily flustered, sexual or not. Anything non-explicitly sexual but still loving probably turns him into even more of a stuttering mess than he already is. Please kiss his scars and call him handsome and pretty and tell him he's deserving of love despite his disorders I'm BEGGING. Sex wise, again, it depends. Some days he'll just go wild during sex, if he's pent up stressed or just feels like it, other days he'll kiss you romantically and compliment you in between thrusts. He'll also adjust based on your preference.

J = Jerking off He jerks off once or twice a day, usually before missions and bed. He can't get a boner during missions (that would be awkward if nothing else) and doing it before bed is convenient. He isn't addicted to it or anything, and has gone a week or two without doing it on long missions, he just prefers to do so. Especially to a picture of his beloved.

K = Kink(s) Toby is a total freak in the bedroom. I'm talking period sex level freak. It would probably be easier to list what kinks he didn't have. But a few specific ones spring to mind. • Praise kink. Toby is happy to give compliments during sex, but receiving them? Oh lord. He's spent most of his life without compliments or praise, so having you do it to him during something so intimate? He'll turn into a blushing moaning mess. This one is more for when he's bottoming. • Primal play. Like I said before, he's a pretty animalistic guy. He'd love to (with consent ofc) chase you and tackle you down, or play hide-and seek and fuck your brains out when he finds you. Or just hold you down and breed you like an animal. • Cumshots. I mentioned it earlier but this man loves seeing you covered in it. Not only is it straight up hot as hell, he also thinks It marks you as his in a way. Possessive lil shit. • Begging. He also loves it when you beg for him, or he begs for you. He's into it both ways. When you beg for him it's hot because it's reassurance that you want him and find him attractive. Him and no one else. When he begs for you it's hot because he's being vulnerable, and theres something about being that desperate. • Marking. I'm talking biting you, scratching you, hickies and fingerprint bruises on your thighs. He'll kiss them better after the act of course, but in the moment anything that he gives to you makes him go haywire.

L = Location This man will do it anytime, anywhere if you're both feeling it. Bedroom, couch (if the other pastas aren't home), forest, you probably have to persuade him not to do it in alleways sometimes. Or just do it, if that's your thing all power to ya. He does slightly prefer private places though, as that way you can go for longer.

M = Motivation (what turns him on) What doesn't? One particular thing that comes to mind is seeing the marks of what he did the next day, especially if you don’t hide the hickeys with a scarf when out in public. It's embarrassing (and sometimes he feels guilty even when you assure him it's fine) but it also sends something in him crazy knowing you're displaying that you're his in public. The smallest things can get him in the mood, though. You stretching, wearing his clothes, complimenting him, sweating, anything and everything. Sometimes nothing, sometimes just seeing you.

N = No (boundaries) Shit and vomit are.. No go's for him. (He'll try piss if you're really eager). DDLG and Daddy in general make him feel predatory and gross, and also anything father related remind him of his dad which is.. Yea, not sex thoughts. And also voyeurism. Remember I said he was a possesive lil shit? Yeah. He ain't sharing you with no one.

O = Oral He loves oral, both giving and receiving. If he had to choose, though? He'd prefer receiving. He loves seeing you gag on his cock, and of course, cumming all over your face. (he'll clean you up after ofc). Not to say he doesn't love giving it either. This man loves eating. He thinks the noises you make are cute - and he also would not mind you sitting on his face.

P = Pace He's usually fast paced. He loves fast rough sex, both of you moaning and yelling and grabbing each other. Sometimes he'll force himself to slow down though, either to tease you or to make the most of it and enjoy every second, especially if he has a long mission coming up and won't see you for a while.

Q = Quickies He prefers longer sessions with multiple rounds, but he's fine with quickies. Sometimes he just needs to bang your brains out before a mission.

R = Risk You're in the slendermansion, everything is a risk. The walls are thin as fuck - at least you think they are? You've never heard anyone complain about you and Toby, but you've never heard anyone complain about the screams of whichever victim Jeff has brought home for some reason. Toby finds it hotter when theres a risk of getting caught. After all, worst case someone else gets shown point blank you're his, and it's cute seeing you try stifle moans.

S = Stamina This man. Can go. For hours. If you let him. The operator strength affects more than just his strength if you know what I mean. By the time he's done you're usually all fucked out. I'm talking multiple rounds, maybe a minute break between them? If you date Toby get ready to be able to hardly walk for a lot of the time. And you best believe he's a smug shit when he carries you around after. "O-oh babe, sorry, did I fuck your brains out t-too hard?" and he will make you say he did.

T = Toys He doesn't usually use toys, except maybe ropes or vibrators if you're into that stuff. Except. Srap-ons. Peg this man. He won't tell you, but this man is PEGGABLE. And he WILL enjoy it and start moaning your name. Trust guys. He's also pretty skinny (lean, but skinny) so if you use a big enough strapon he'll get a stomach bulge.

U = Unfair (teasing) Usually he can't really tease you during sex as he's too busy fucking your brains out (or getting his brains fucked out) but as with pace, he can slow it down a little sometimes. And when he does you best believe he'll tease the shit out of you. He'll make you beg for it, and he WILL drag it out as long as possible. Probably try his hand at edging you. (but it's fine if you edge him back he'll become a stuttering fucking begging MESS)

V = Volume/Vocal I imagine Toby isn't the most vocal of men, but you will know when he's enjoying it. Moaning, grunting, even growling. Sometimes he'll stutter out short sentances too. "F-fuck, tight-" "gonna split you in half baby-" "Mach w-weiter" (keep going) "Please, p-please please-" shit like that.

W = Wild Card (misc) Toby speaks fluent German, as his parents were 1'st gen immigrants from Germany. (it's canon confirmed he has German ancestry but not more specific than that, so that's more of a headcanon.) He does some sex talk in german, especially when he gets In the heat of it. "Oh mein Gott" ( oh my god) "V-Verdammt, das fühlt sich so gu-gut an" (Fuck, that feels so good) "Ich l-liebe dich, härter bitte" (I love you, harder please)

X = X-Ray Toby is skinny, but lean. And deceptively strong. His whole body is covered head to toe in scars - stomach, chest, arms shoulders legs. Everywhere. He has no tattoos save for the operator symbol on his wrist. He's 5"10 in hight. In terms of his member, he's pretty big, a little larger than average at about 7.5 inches, give or take a few depending on just how hard he is too. He's pretty girthy as well, so get ready for the ride of your life.

Y = Yearning (libido) High libido. Horny fucker. Literally so horny, he's pretty much ready for it any time anywhere. Especially when it's related to you. You could probably look at him funny and he'd wanna fuck.

Z = Zzz It's 50/50 whether he'll pass out after sex or not. If he does he cuddles you close though, probably whispering nice things and calling you pretty. Just resting on you, playing with your hair or letting you play with his.

[blankwashed]

Backstory: After years away, Caleb finally returns to Linkon, ready to pick up where he left off. He’s been gone long enough to chase his career, but the draw of the old town—and you—was never far from his mind. Tonight, he walks into the familiar bar, hoping to make up for lost time. The years apart haven’t dimmed his feelings for you; if anything, they’ve only intensified. During this one night to catch up, Caleb’s determined to see if the spark is still there, he wondered if you felt the same way about him as he did about you.

Triggers: Explicit sexual content (Sex in the club’s toilet), Slightly alcoholic substances (It’s a club), death of Caleb and Hunter’s grandma mentioned

It’s been years—no, let alone decades—since you’ve seen your childhood friend, Caleb. The memory of him was burnt into your mind: sharp eyes that always seemed to see too much, that cocky smirk that got him out of trouble just as often as it got him in it. Back then, he was trouble you didn’t dare to approach. And now? Trouble is exactly what he looks like as he leans against the far wall of the bar, one boot propped up, a glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers.

You froze in the doorway, your pulse skipping like a damn schoolkid’s, though you’d never admit it. He’s different now—broader shoulders, a shadow of stubble darkening his sharp jaw, and a dangerous air that screams don’t touch. But those eyes? Those same intense, soul-pinning eyes? They lock on to you the second you step inside.

He doesn’t smile, not right away. No, his lips pull into something slower, darker—a smirk that tells you he knows exactly how your stomach is twisting. And as if the years apart mean nothing, he tips his glass in your direction, daring you to come closer.

You don’t, not immediately, of course. You head to the bar instead, ignoring the heat of his gaze crawling over your back. You can feel him watching, though, as you order a drink.

“Bartender! One scotch on the rocks. Put it on this tab,” you said as you slipped a hundred dollar bill on the bar. Caleb doesn’t know that you drink now, hell, the last time he met you, it was practically against the law to go to such a place! But to find you in a place like this now…he’s got a few questions for you to answer.

As the bartender gave you the drink you ordered, he mentioned that you didn’t need to pay for it as a ‘kind gentleman’ already paid for your tab. Slightly confused, you had to guess it was Caleb. The scotch made your skin tingle and your fingers to tighten around the glass when you finally took a sip.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” came his voice, low and rough as he stepped up beside you. His presence was way too familiar but towering and close, and his scent, leather and smoke, it flooded your senses.

“I could say the same thing,” you replied coolly, keeping your focus on your drink, even though your pulse is hammering. “Didn’t think you’d still be alive.”

He chuckled, the sound low and delicious. “Oh, I’m full of surprises, sweet pea. You, though…” He leans in, his breath brushing your ear. “You’re exactly the same. Still trying to act like I don’t get under your skin.”

You stiffenned, your glass clinking against the counter as you set it down a little too hard. “And you’re still an arrogant prick huh?” you snap, spinning to face him. But damn it, he’s closer than you expected, those lips just inches from yours, his eyes burning with something dangerous.

“And yet,” he murmurred, stepping into your space, his hand brushing your waist, “here you are, letting me get close. Then I’m guessing…still single?”

Your breath catches, your body betraying you with the way it leans into him despite your better judgment. He notices, of course he notices, and that damn smirk deepens.

“You missed me,” he whispered, his voice a rough caress, his hand sliding to your hip, squeezing just enough to send sparks up your spine.

“To hell with that,” you shot back, but your voice trembles, and the way his eyes darken tells you he heard it.

“Liar,” he growled, and then his lips crashed onto yours—hot, demanding, a kiss that steals your breath and leaves no room for doubt. His hands were on you, possessive and firm, pulling you against his body like he’s been waiting for this moment for years.

The kiss breaks, and he stared down at you, his thumb brushing your cheek as his voice drops to a rasp. “You can tell yourself you hate me all you want, sweetheart. But your body? It doesn’t lie.”

And when you grabbed his shirt and dragged him back to you, your lips crashed onto his this time, you knew he’s right. He knew he was right.

You never forgot about him.

“Why did Grandma have to die and not you instead?”

The words hang in the air like a gunshot, sharp and final. You hadn’t meant to say it, at least not out loud. But the second they leave your lips, the silence between you feels suffocating.

Caleb stiffens, his jaw clenching so tight you can see the muscle tick. His usual bravado, that cocky shield he always hides behind, is gone in an instant. All that’s left is the raw, wounded man beneath.

He takes a step back, his eyes narrowing, but there’s a flash of something else—pain, maybe? Regret? It’s gone as fast as it came, replaced by that cold, hardened look you’ve seen him wear a hundred times before.

“Is that what you really think of me?” His voice is low, deadly calm, but there’s an edge to it, sharp enough to cut.

You don’t answer, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and guilt. You should apologize, take it back—but part of you doesn’t want to. Part of you wants to hurt him the way he’s hurt you, the way his absence, his choices, have haunted you for years.

“Go on, say it again,” Caleb growls, stepping closer this time, your body basically hitting the back of the bar’s walls. “Say it so I know exactly how much you hate me.”

Your lips part, but the words stick in your throat. The anger is still there, burning bright but the way he’s looking at you - his eyes dark and raw, his body towering over yours..it’s throwing you off balance. You hate him, and yet…you can’t ignore tha way your body reacts to the heat rolling off him.

“Maybe I will,” you snapped, lifting your chin, refusing to back down. “Maybe you deserve to hear it. Maybe you deserve to die under all that rubble from our house instead of grandma. She’s innocent, but you? You killed, you murdered, you..”

He’s closer to you now, so close till you can feel the tension vibrating off him. He isn’t afraid of you, even after hearing the heartless things you said from your mouth. “You don’t mean that,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t? How’d you know, huh?” you challenged, your voice shaking just enough to betray the turmoil inside you. Mainly, the scotch playing with your voice.

For a moment, it’s like he’s about to walk away. You know how much he treasured grandma, so talking about something like that hit heavy for him. He never wanted her to perish but…

“Then hate me,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Hate me all you want. But don’t fucking pretend you don’t feel this.”

Your heart pounded, your head was already intoxicated and pounding from the questions your mind was playing on itself. “I hate you,” you whispered, but the way your fingers traced the line of his jaw told him a different story.

“Liar,” he growls but before you can respond his mouth was on yours again, stealing every thought, every ounce of self control. His hands roamed your body, claiming every inch as if he’s trying to prove something, as if he’s trying to remind you of everything you’ve been trying to forget.

Him.

You gasped as his teeth grazed the curve of you neck, his unshaved stubble tough against your skin in a way that has your thighs squeezing around his hips. Caleb’s hands were everywhere—pulling, grabbing, demanding— as though he’s afraid if he stopped touching you for even a second, you’ll disappear.

“Gods, you drive me fucking crazy,” he growled against your collarbone, his voice rough and filled with something raw. His hands slip under your shirt, calloused fingers brushing against the bare skin of your pushed-up cleavage.

You clutch at his shoulders, your nails digging in hard enough to leave marks ans the low rumble from his chest tells you he likes it. He loved it hard. “Good,” you spat back at him, yanking at the collar of his shirt. “Maybe now you know what it feels like.”

He pulls you to a secluded toilet stall that has a singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling. “You think you’re the only one?” he snaps, his hands tightening on your waist, dragging your hips against his. “You’ve been under my skin since the day we met, sweetheart. You fucking own me, and you don’t even realise it.”

His confession only confirmed his feelings for you, but you didn’t get a chance to respond. His lips were on yours again, his kiss was brutal and angry with its intensity. He ngaws at your bottom lip and when you almost let out a yelp, his tongue slides into your mouth. Always trying to take control like it’s the only thing he knows how to do.

Your back hits the counter of the toilet. “We..we’re doing it here? In this disgusting shit hole?” you said, as you swore you saw someone go there to vomit almost 5 minutes ago.

“Do you have a better suggestion, angel?” he said a matter of factly. Caleb tugs your shirt over your head in one sharp motion (it was just a strapless top anyways).

“You make me a fucking menace, did you know that?” he growled. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You barely managed to get out a breathless, “Maybe,” before his mouth was back on yours, his kiss so hungry it steals the air from your lungs. His tongue tangles with yours, and you moan into his mouth as his hand slides down the tight mini-skirt you wore.

“Fuck,” he murmured against your lips when his fingers lapped up how wet you were. “You’re soaked already? Guess you don’t hate me as much as much as you said, huh?”

“Shut up,” you snapped, but the way your body arches into his touches, you were completely lying at this point.

He smirks. That cocky bastard, and his fingers slipped right into your folds, teasing you with just enough pressure to make your legs tremble. “Say it,” he demands, his voice low and commanding. “Say you want me, sweetpea.”

Your pride was high and wanted you to hold your ground. “I hate this, I hate that childhood name that you keep calling me. I’m an adult now, don’t you see?” you tried to say with gusto while trying to glare into his eyes but instead the breathy moan that escaped when he slides one finger inside of you made it clear how much of a lie that was.

“Liar…” he growls, his thumb circling around your clit, pinching in the areas where he knew would drive any woman mad. “You hate me, hm? But you’re dripping for me? Tell me again, sweetheart. Tell me how much you hate this as much as you hate me.”

Your head falls back against the door, your hips rocking with his hand as heat floods through your veins. “You’re such an asshole, always has been..always will be.”you managed to quiver as your nails drugged into his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself against the intensity of the orgasm he gave you.

“And you fucking love it,” he shot back as he adds another finger, stretching you. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten the way you looked at me. The way you bite your lip every time I get too close.”

You wanted to argue as you always do but the pleasure building inside of you steals the words from your lips. Instead, a strangled moan escapes as his fingers curl. hitting that spot that makes your vision blur.

“Say my name,” he demands, his voice way more rough that you remembered it to be. “Say it.”

“C-Caleb,” you gasp, wanting to find the same pleasure that he was giving to you.

Caleb of course, a man of his own word, lifted you up in one smooth motion and carried you to the sink. In one smooth motion, his shirt is on the nasty bar’s floor. He flexed and the hard lines of his body were showing that he had all power and control now.

“You want more, my sweet?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he looms over you with eyes dark with lust.

“Don’t make me beg. You know I never do,” you managed to say despite your voice sounding breathless.

His smirk returns, that annoying cocky grin that would make you punch bricks but fall in love with him. “Oh you’ll beg, sweetheart,” he promises, his hands parting your thighs apart as he lowers himself between them. “But don’t worry—I’ll make it worth your wait.”

Caleb’s lips are in between your thighs, giving kisses in areas where no one has been before. He was teasing, again. Memorising every inch, every curve, every scar…it was just agonising. The way his tongue moved had your body arching into him. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him deeper as your breath came in gasps.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with hunger. At that point, the both of you forgot you were in public. He’s between your legs again, skirt chucked up in some other random place, his main goal to give you sensations that sent you overdrive. The heat was building, swirling, coiling tighter and tighter as he works his long fingers and tongue in you with relentless precision.

“Caleb, please,” you begged, your voice trembling. “Please, I need this—“

He was not letting your finish, not when he’s this close to breaking you. His fingers slide inside your again, curling deep and his other hand grips your thigh stabilising your half drunk body as you spread wide for him.

“Need what, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice silky and dangerous, his lips brushing your inner thigh as he speaks. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

“You,” you moan, your body trembling under his trouch, his name slipping from your lips. “You, Caleb, please I need you.”

His smirk widen as he pulls aways just enough to hover over you. you could see his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. He looks down at you with the same intensity and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something more in his eyes—love? No, it was something deeper. This was him fulfilling his dream, his desire.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t remember your own name,” he growls as he positions himself at your entrance.

Before pushing in he rubbed his very hard cock along your soaked pussy, making you wonder whether he was teasing you again. But once he slowly filled you in with one smooth stroke, the pain made you realise why. Caleb thrusted deeper and you gasped when he bottomed out making you stay still and silent. He wanted to move but he was waiting for your answer.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice way quieter now. He wants to move but he was waiting for your answer.

You nod, your hips already starting to rock against him, craving more but the burn of his length was ripping your insides apart. Everything you’ve ever wanted.

“More,” you moaned, “please, Caleb. Don’t stop.”

With that, he moves, his hips snapping forward to meet yours in forceful motions. HIs rhythm is relentless—hard and fast—pounding into you as his name falls from your lips over and over. It was consummating for you, finally, after all these years of loving him for a far.

His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he fucks you harder, faster, his voice rough while he speaks.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice low. “Say you need me.”

“I need you,” you cried out, the words spilling from your lips as the pleasure inside you becomes unbearable. “I fucking need you, Caleb!”

And with that, he fucks you harder, faster, as if the world was exploding behind him but it didn’t matter because he was having the best time of his life. Your body shakes by the own force of your orgasm and Caleb follows close behind, his own cum spilling into you with a rough groan.

Both of you are breathless, your bodies tangled together on the sink. Both of your breathing normalises while staring into each other’s eyes.

“You still hate me?” he softly asked as he stares into your eyes. His lips smirking, but in a gentle way.

“Very much.” you replied, your voice still a little shaky but the both of you knew it was your biggest lie.