#i need him carnally i need him like air!!!!!!!

[luvrodite]

My favourite thing to imagine is non sexually biting Jason because he’s so bite-able but then he becomes feral and wants to “return the favour” 😙

i feel lightheaded actually like. i’m dizzy thinking about this. he has such nice teeth too like he has sharp canines (TO ME) he has a pretty mouth and he uses it to fucking just. bite.

you bite his bicep playfully while you’re cuddling and it’s over for you. you have about a dozen bite marks the next day…..

[linpunny]

Okay, I'll bite: What's your favorite headcannon about Taiju and what makes him special to you? I see you talk about him a lot and I'm curious

I’ll do sfw 🤭 cause soft Taiju makes my brain melt just as much as nasty primal dom daddy Taiju.

My favorite headcannon about Taiju is absolutely how he will subtly be playful with you. And you only. It’s not a side many others get to see. Most see him as a strict man, one that is and can be cruel with those apex predator like eyes. Not many dare to even joke or kid with Taiju because he alone is so intimidating. When he walks into a room he demands your attention and expects respect from everyone in the vicinity. But with you me he’ll let you get away with small bouts of bratting, calling him silly nicknames because he knows its affectionate, he’ll play into your banter if you try and fluster him but will turn it around and fluster you back even worse. It warms his heart to give into you and see that familiar twinkle in your eyes when he matches your energy, plus he’s down just as bad as you are. He just shows it by letting his guard down, giving you a side of himself no one else ever will know or see.

What makes him special to me lololololo let me not write a paragraph about my husband 😅 butttt it has to be that despite what he did and his past is not the best in the anime but his actions came from a place of love, love for his family and while he executed that love in the wrong ways he realized what he did wrong and tried to rectify his wrong doings once he was humbled and made to see how his flaws. And just like I would never judge him for his past or those rough edges he does the same for me. Looks past all the things that no one else is able to love and loves me just as selfishly as I love him. All the good and bad parts.

God I’m sick for him, Glitch.

[shoyoist]

cannot find a good icon to replace this stupid lil shuji one (💓) with and it is pissing me off atp 🙄

[nymphoniah]

sitting in his lap

yeah, you can call me a whore but i know for a fact that old man!logan calling me princess would cure me.

like just imagine sitting in his lap, all cozied up, wrapped perfectly between his muscular arms. thinking about his calloused fingers molding the flesh of your ass, firmly holding you still against him.

you shy away from him, pressing your face against his chest as his hands continue to work at your ass. his muscles tensing as you slowly grind against him, hesitant in giving into your aching desires.

he bring his hands up to cup your face, tracing his thumb against your bottom lip. his salt-and-pepper beard tickles your face as he showers you in gentle kisses.

“don’t be shy, princess.” he murmurs, his thumb slipping into your mouth, and your tongue wraps around him. you hollow your cheeks, and the wanton pop that follows when you release him slices the tension in the air.

“look at me.” he commands, tipping your chin upwards, and you look right at him through your mascara clumped eyelashes.

your vision is hazy, brain is fuzzy—but one thing’s for sure, you need him, carnally. your eyes almost light up when you spot the smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, seeing how in awe you are from the slightest touch from him.

“there you are, kiddo” he coos, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “there’s my princess.”

[pochaccoups]

cw — dry humping, making out, handjob, pet names ‘baby’ and ‘pretty girl’, best bf cheol (minors dni)

It’s a confession you make half-hoping Seungcheol doesn’t hear you: “you’re so hard. Let me jerk you off.”

You say it in the heat of the moment, utter it against his lips, reluctant partly because it’s perverted, it’s obscene, and it’s just utterly desperate of you, and partly also because you’re supposed to be taking it slow with him. You’ve had too many relationships go to shit when you fucked them right off the bat and found out after that you’d had nothing in common. Then you met Choi Seungcheol, who seemed a little too good to be true, and from the moment you’d told him you didn’t want to rush into any kind of intimacy just yet, he was more careful with your boundaries than you yourself.

For the last God-knows-how-long though, you’d sat in his lap, rutting yourself against him while he stole your breath with his lips, and fuck, he’s so hard against you that you think it must hurt, and he’s your boyfriend, so why wouldn’t you help him out?

When you say it, he tugs you away from him by your neck, not harsh or rough at all but rather in the way that everything he does has an air of dominance. He stares at you with hardened features, his attempt to appear stern betrayed only slightly by his kiss-swollen lips and cherry red cheeks, and yet you’re not afraid to persist.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret,” he says, so soft and low that he could lull you to sleep.

“It’s fine, Cheol. It won’t even count because you’re not putting it inside,” you say with a shrug and a grin.

Seungcheol has never felt so torn in his life. He wants to build up tension slowly with you until you trust him, until you’re certain that you’re ready to go all the way with him, to take the next step and bare yourself to him. Saying no to you is impossible though, especially when you make him want to give you the entire world. He’s also so, so hard, and his only options are to give in to you or jerk himself off in the bathroom alone.

His thumb traces over your bottom lip, his boner growing worse from the soft suppleness of it, from the batting of your lashes, from the carnal gleam in your eyes. Fuck it, he thinks. You’re the one who wanted it in the first place, anyway.

“Alright,” he says, and he already sounds out of breath, like the mere thought of your hand around him is enough to make him lose his mind. (It is.)

He starts to shift beneath you, simultaneously grasping your waist to reposition you ever so slightly as he pulls his sweats a few inches down his hips while your ardent fingers help him along. “But the second you wanna stop, we stop, okay?”

“Not gonna wanna stop,” you say, humming. Seungcheol pauses and stares at you, unamused. It makes you roll your eyes. “God, okay, I’ll tell you if I wanna stop. Now can I touch your dick, please?”

He narrows his eyes at you in faux doubt, only to wink at you and finally push his boxers down enough to let his cock spring free.

You feel your insides literally warm at the sight of it. It’s darkened pink, veiny, long, and girthier than anything you’ve ever seen. How can you not think about how it would feel inside you, stretching you out? Because God knows it would stretch you out. You’re pretty sure you’ll need several weeks of foreplay for him to fit.

“Cheol, you’re huge…” you say before you can stop yourself, growing suddenly timid.

“Good thing I’m not putting it inside then, hm?” says Seungcheol, chuckling a little.

He notices the shift in your eyes—it’s not hesitation, you’re just stunned. His hand soothes up and down your back, a silent reminder to take your time. For a split second his heart drops when he thinks maybe you’ve changed your mind about this, about him, and then your hand reaches for his length.

“Can I?” you ask. So polite, as if you’ve never done anything like this before. It makes Seungcheol want to smother you with kisses.

“Please,” he replies, only hoping it’s not too desperate.

The relief when your fingers finally grasp him makes Seungcheol’s shoulder sag, and he finds himself sinking further into the couch when your thumb swirls over his reddened cockhead. Beads of precum drool from his slit and you smear them all over his tip, smirking softly when Seungcheol’s breath hitches in his throat.

With your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself from making an embarrassing noise, you start to pump his member slowly. You drool at the heaviness of it, at the way your fingers don’t touch as they wrap around him, at Seungcheol’s tiny noises as he inhales and exhales.

“Think you could spit on it for me?” he asks and his voice has dropped about three octaves now. He’s careful with his words, wanting nothing but for you to do things on your own accord.

He has to stop himself from cumming on the spot when you give a nod and a sweet smile before bending forward to let a dollop of spit drop from your pretty lips and land perfectly on his tip.

“Show me how you like it, Cheol,” you say. His heart skips several beats and he wishes he could record your words and listen to them again and again. Fuck, you’re perfect. He already knew that, knew it after about two weeks of knowing you, but you just keep affirming it for him and he wonders if you know your effect on him.

Seungcheol’s hand is warm as it engulfs yours. His grip is much tighter—painful even, you would think, but as he starts guiding your hand up and down with vigour, he throws his head back and moans, and you can’t help the way your pussy aches at the sound.

He shows you exactly how he likes it: tight, and with a flick of the wrist to swirl around his tip.

“God, fuck, baby, that’s it,” he grunts and bucks his hips into your hand.

Heat creeps up the back of your neck. There’s a dash of timidness you get from being this intimate with Seungcheol for the first time, although it’s not even you who’s exposed, and then there’s desire. Wild, burning lust. He’s the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on, and he’s falling apart in your hands.

“Your cock’s so pretty, Cheollie,” you say. His already dark eyes have grown impossibly darker, riddled with want as they flicker between your intertwined fingers around his cock, and your face. “Can’t wait to have it in my mouth.”

“F-fuck, didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth, pretty girl,” he moans, quickening your pace. His precum leaks all over your fingers, so wet that there’s an audible slick sound with every pump up and down.

“Only for you,” you say, and your gaze falls to his glistening lips, and you’re moving absentmindedly towards them until you’re kissing him. It’s even messier than before, more breathless, like neither of you are holding back your wanting anymore. Your tongue licks against his shamelessly. You’re hungry for him. He settles a hand at the nape of your neck, drawing you closer to him so that he can kiss you so hard your head starts to spin.

You’re not sure when you’d started grinding on him again, rutting your crotch over his hard thigh like a dog, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel ashamed of yourself when Seungcheol’s chest is starting to heave, his moans are growing more frequent, and his cock is throbbing against your hand.

“You’re twitching, Cheol. Are you gonna cum?” you tease, your cunt fluttering.

“Yeah, ’m close,” he says through gritted teeth.

And he’s certainly honest, because a few more strokes and he’s giving a deep, guttural groan and cumming in thick, milky white spurts all over his hoodie. His blissed out face is a sight to behold, although he doesn’t let you do so in favour of pulling you in for another kiss, one that’s soft and chaste this time.

Choi Seungcheol’s duality will kill you one day.

“Did so good for me, baby, thank you,” he says, giving you his sugary smile. “I’m gonna go… uh, change real quick and then I’ll return the favour, yeah?”

“Wh- return the favour? But- that- I wanted to help you out, though, so it’s fine!” you stutter, and he’s already plucked you off his lap like you’re weightless and stood up to his feet.

“Baby,” he says, taking your hand. “I felt you grinding all over my leg. Let me take care of you like you did for me.”

[tonycries]

Lemme Ride, Baby!

Synopsis. Riding your cocky boyfriend to insanity is not a want, but a need. Especially when he sits there so deliciously arrogant - you just have to break him.

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cowgirl, slight switch! boys, established relationship, creampie, power dynamics, dirty talk, swearing.

Word count. 1.3k 

A/N. Had this in my drafts for so long.

He sits across from you on the bed. Long legs spread, eyes half-lidded, and kiss-bitten lips turned into an aggravating smirk that makes your dripping cunt clench. 

“Good luck lasting more than five seconds, pretty girl.” he drawled lazily, oozing pure cockiness.

So that’s how he’s gonna play, huh?

“Let’s see if you can live up to your own hype, darling.”

“Mhm, I won’t be the one begging for mercy.”

Ah, for the life of him he should’ve known. Should’ve gotten an inkling at the way you sauntered over to him in nothing but a predatory grin. Should’ve begged for mercy at that carnal gleam in your eyes that made blood rush straight to his traitorously hard cock. You wanted to eat him alive. 

And he was going to eat his words.

At first, your cocky boyfriend pretended to be unfazed, laying back leisurely on his forearms. But you saw the way his eyes flickered with nervousness when you grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and slammed him onto the mattress. You felt the way his already-throbbing erection twitched so animalistically as you urgently swung a leg over his hips. You knew you had him wrapped around your little finger. 

“Let’s hope you can last as long as you talk.”

Bullying his achingly hard cock into your snug cunt, sinking down agonizingly slowly. Relishing the way his eyes roll back in sheer ecstasy as your plushy walls suck him up so desperately. “Fuck, yes. You feel s’amazing wrapped around me. Sure you can handle it all?” 

You waste no time. 

Abruptly slamming down on his leaking cock. “Ah- Hah-” Your boyfriend’s surprised moans get choked in his throat as you rock your hips back and forth at a punishing pace. 

Pulling all the way up till his furiously flushed tip is teasing your sloppy hole. Slick dripping on his length, slamming down down down - his glistening veins massaging that one spot just right. Over and over. Harder. Faster. 

The sinful squelches of your cunt filling the heady air of your bedroom. Driving him to insanity.

“Oh, god yes- jus’ like that ah fuck fuck fuck…” his low groans come in ragged bursts, cock twitching wildly. A large hand shoots up to clutch your bouncing breasts, tweaking your hardened nipples, the other having a white-knuckled grip on the sheets.

“Give up ye- ah! Hngh, you little fucker-” a moan escapes your lips as he bucks his hips defiantly, chasing his high. Thick tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 

Your hungry eyes bore into his blown-out ones, a defiant glint in them as he still tries to maintain his cool façade. Biting his bottom lip, brows furrowed in heavy concentration as he fights to hold back cumming. 

Stubborn bastard.

Several things happen at once.

Your hand shoots out to grip his exposed neck, nails digging into his skin, hard. Almost as hard as you ram down on his cock, sheathing him till his twitching balls smack your ass. Wasting no time once he’s bottomed out. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 

His pretty lips fall into soft oh. Fucked out, gurgled moans leaving his lips around the hand at his throat. “Oh! Ah! Shit, tha’s right. Take every inch.” And if he thought he was going to pass out before then- 

He couldn’t even finish the thought, brain stuck on the way you clamp down so obscenely around him, milking him greedily. Biceps curling, a hand reaches above him to hold onto the headboard - and maybe his sanity.

“Give up yet?” You grind down mercilessly, walls hugging his throbbing erection impossibly tight. Clit rubbing against his toned pelvis. Back and forth and back and forth and- Sloppy, it was so sloppy.

Slick gushing out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “God, fuck- hah. That all you got, pretty girl?.” 

Thighs burning, you alternate between torturously slow strokes and frantic bouncing that left you both restless. Hypnotizing rhythm him slowly towards the edge, only to reel him back again. 

He will eat his words. 

You lose track of time. Maybe it’s been hours - maybe even just a few minutes. 

Pulling and pushing. Over and over. 

“Ah- Hngh-.” Eyes barely keeping open, torn between the fucking obscene view of your dripping pussy swallowing his cock so greedily and the lustful, power-drunk expression on your face. “Wanna- wanna cum, pretty girl.”

“Then beg for it.”

“No.”

Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead. You watch, cunt fluttering at the fucked-out little smile curling his lips, and the carnal way his neck was leaning into the tight grasp you had around it. 

You lean forward, a cruel smile playing on your lips, “Beg for it.” you repeat, voice sultry and dangerous.

He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out from where his eyes were scrunched closed. “No.” he whispers, jaw clenched tight.

You press impossibly closer, breasts hot against his sculpted chest, sticky with sweat. Not stopping your maddening rhythm, your breath is hot against his ear, “Beg for it, and I’ll let you cum harder than you ever have before.”

He throws his head back, toes curling into the mattress, and thighs quivering at the way you were using him like nothing more than a toy.

“Please.” he finally breathes, words barely audible over the sloppy slapping of skin on skin.

“Louder.” 

“Please, let me cum, pretty girl.” he groans, leaning into the mockingly innocent peck you leave on the tip of his nose.

You reward him, slamming down on his throbbing cock with renewed vigor. Finally giving into the way you were drunk off his cock just as much as he was off your pussy. A hand reaching behind you to massage his balls, feeling the weight on your palm. Tugging on them in a way that has his breath hitching and dick twitching so desperately inside you. Aching for release.

“God, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He lets out a guttural moan, thrusting up into you in short, frantic jabs to match your unforgiving cadence. His leaking tip hitting that perfect angle to send sparks flying behind your eyelids. 

And you let him, chasing your high as much as his, eyes locked on his greedy gaze.

How long has it even been? All he knows is that fuck if heaven was real then he was there right now, looking at a goddess herself. Ah, close. So close. His thrusts grow jerkier, cock pulsing inside you. 

“Cum for me, darling. Fill me up till you’re leaking out of me.”

A sharp whimper of your name and he’s spilling into you. His body bows into yours, thick, hot ropes of his cum that fill your snug cunt. Painting your walls white to match the pleasure that runs down his spine - all the way to his leaking cock. It gushes inside of you, trailing down his sensitive cock to form a creamy ring at his base. 

Stars behind his eyes, teeth gritted. He’s heard of orgasms so powerful they take control of one’s body, and right now fuck if this isn’t that then he didn’t know what was. 

Nails digging into your hips - keeping you still as he pounds into you, fucking his seed deeper and deeper. Cock throbbing around your quivering walls - overstimulated as you cum around the feeling of him filling you up. Vision blurring, blood roaring in your ears as everything crashes together like a tidal wave. 

Before you know it, you’re collapsing onto his heated chest. Limbs tangled and breaths mingling as you both try to catch your breaths. 

You can feel his cum leaking out of you, thick and sticky. Pooling between your legs. Stomach feeling so full of him.

“Looks like you talked a lot more shit than you could handle, darling.” you grin, still breathless. 

Oh. You shouldn’t have said that. 

It was like a flip switched.

Seizing your moment of weakness, rolling over in the blink of an eye. You sink into the now-soaked mattress as his large hands hold a bruising grip on your wrists, pinning them right above your head. 

He loomed menacingly over you, low whisper hot against your ear and sending shivers down your spine. 

“My turn, pretty girl.”

- GOJO, Choso, OIKAWA, Kuroo, Suna, Tsukishima, ATSUMU, EREN

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[madaqueue]

LIKE WE WERE MADE TO

of course your doting boyfriend satoru cares about you - he walks you to work every morning, packs your lunches, makes you tea every night before bed. he'd do anything for you, so of course he'll help you with your heat.

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!f!reader

themes/content: dark content (omegaverse). smut. heats, fingering, knotting, light dumbification, satoru being a little lovesick. (wk: 1.3k)

a/n: YAYYY happy quintober everyone >:) here's my contribution for the @ficsforgaza kinktober event, so excited to be a part of this and check out the link below for more works under this project! view my full kinktober masterlist and the google form for signup to be tagged in other works too! hope you all enjoy :3

quintober masterlist | sign up form | ffg kinktober

Satoru had no idea what to expect as he ran home through the crowded streets; since reading your brief text of ‘Come home. Need you.’ the alarm bells sounding in his head had failed to quiet. He prepared for the worst, scenarios racing through his mind. Were you hurt?

As he barrels through your front door, he certainly doesn’t expect what lays behind it: you, sprawled out naked on the couch, flushed cheeks and sweating, two fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

“What’s going on-”

The sentence dies in his throat as his entire body tenses. Something new hangs in the air, something sending his every sense into overdrive. Almost sickeningly sweet, with an unmistakable, carnal need.

Your heat.

“‘Toru,” you breathe out - even his name on your tongue sounds different, an unfamiliar desperation dripping from it, “need you, now.”

In an instant he’s by your side, your scent growing exponentially stronger with each step he takes until it begins to cloud his own thoughts, overcome with his body’s innate desire to care for you, to care for his omega.

He’s never seen you like this - in your time dating, your suppressants had done their job; maybe that’s why you barely noticed when they ran out last week. Just a few hours ago he was walking hand-in-hand with you to work, your eyes glimmering as you told him about your plans for the day. Something about a big meeting with supervisors? He was honestly a bit distracted by the way your thumb drew circles along his skin, the new perfume he thought you were wearing, how pretty you looked all bundled up in your coat and scarf, like a little present waiting to be unwrapped - before you lightly smacked the back of his head.

“Are you even listening to me, ‘Toru?”

“No,” he beamed.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stifle the smile spreading across your lips. Pressing a peck to his cheek, you turned on your heel with a small wave, your fingers dancing against the backdrop of the fall sky.

You always knew how to handle him - that was something he admired about you. He knew his personality easily veered into chaos, and yet you never seemed bothered by it, holding him in your palms and keeping him a stable shape. It took strength to do that, to not let his soul blend the edges of your own.

And yet, now, his strong, independent girlfriend has become nothing more than a sweet, desperate mess. The thought makes his teeth ache.

“Please,” the broken mewl pulls him back to the sweetness surrounding you as you continue pumping your fingers in and out.

Before he can choke out a response, your hands begin hastily removing his clothes, tugging off anything you can grab, palms sweaty against his torso as you unzip his uniform. With a harsh tear, his shirt falls to shreds on the floor, muscles rippling beneath. He was never known for his patience, after all - could you blame him?

“I got you, baby,” he murmurs, climbing on top of you so his thighs straddle your body, sinking into the cushions. “I’m here, m’gonna take good care of you.”

Two lanky fingers collect the slick pooling at your entrance as his free hand wraps around your wrist, gently pulling your palm from between your legs. He holds it above your head, leaning forward and blanketing you in his warmth. A wave of pleasure crashes over you as he slides inside, curling his fingertips towards that spot only he seems able to reach.

But it’s not enough.

“More, ‘Toru, please, need more,” you whine, your hips bucking up involuntarily. The words continue spilling into the air, desperate pleas for what you really need, what only he can give you.

“Okay, just - fuck - gimme a second.” And he’s panting already, the biological drive within him threatening to take over, to pin you down and fuck you until you’re nothing more than a limp little mess beneath him. But he’s better than that.

Right?

It takes every ounce of control to align his tip with your core and stay there for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch as he knows you would want him to, but it’s made all the more difficult with your hands weakly grasping at his hips in an attempt to pull him forward.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” you babble, “pleaaaseee-aaaahhh.”

When his cock finally enters you, all your nerves alight in flames. Your vision goes white, eyes rolling back as he fills you up. Exactly what you needed. For a moment, everything stills, returning to your senses as his own musky scent begins mingling in the air with yours.

The brief clarity lets you pick up on the prettiest little whines falling from his lips at the way you envelop him so perfectly, two souls made for one another.

In only a few thrusts he’s sweating, his body sticking to yours with each push and pull of his pelvis. It’s hot, impossibly hot, both of your cheeks flushed and gasping for air. When his lips meet yours, it’s imprecise and messy, breathing into each other’s mouths as your tongues meld. He tastes like sugar and desire and love and cinnamon, like some dessert you were denied as a child for fear it would give you a tummy ache. But now, it’s the only thing satiating you, the only thing you can stomach.

“M’gonna make you feel better,” he’s mumbling into you, “gonna fuck you so good.”

“Only you, ‘Toru,” you babble, and you’re just as gone as he is, “has to be you.”

There’s truth to it, of course - only he could quell the growing ache inside you. Only your alpha. Your bodies were made for this, you realize: with each increasingly rough thrust, he hits every spot inside you so perfectly, and as your walls begin to flutter around him, you squeeze him in just the way that has him losing the last remaining shreds of his sanity.

Each beat of his heart echoes through his ears, overshadowing the wet squelches of your cunt around him and the lewd slapping of his balls against your ass. All he knows is you - his sweetheart, his other half, his omega.

As he ruts into you, something hot and thick begins coiling in his stomach, something unfamiliar, but the words are engraved into his soul as he slurs, “gonna take my knot f’me, yeah? ‘S’gonna help, okay?”

Teary eyes blink up at him, glossed over in pleasure as you nod. “Need it, please,” you whimper. Your mouth forms the word on pure instinct, “Alpha.”

And that’s all it takes to make him snap.

With a broken cry of your name, he releases into you.

The sensation of his cock twitching sends you over the edge, the heat in your chest burning brighter and brighter and brighter until it’s all you can feel.

As you come down from your high, there’s a new pressure in your core - you feel so, so fucking full.

His cum swells inside you as he cautiously adjusts his body weight. Pink cheeks and blue eyes find your gaze and he gives you a weak chuckle, met with your own equally fucked-out grin as you brush sweat-slicked hair from his forehead.

It takes effort to slow his breathing enough to speak, enough to think. “Your first heat with me,” he muses to himself. His heart warms at the thought: now he can take care of you in the way he was made to. “Love you s’much, baby,” he hums, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips before nuzzling into your neck, softly breathing in the warm scent.

“Love you, too.” Your fingertips slowly scratch his undercut, the haze now clearing enough that you swear you hear him purr. Your cunt involuntarily clenches around him - around his knot - as you gently run your nails down his back. His body melds perfectly around yours. “Alpha.”

[evilgwrl]

Part 2 to this

CW: exhibitionism, reader is HORNY ASF like rlly fkn horny, use of buttplugs and sex toys, THIS IS SO FILTHY BUT PLS LMK IF U WANT MORE WORK LIKE THIS

Taglist: @valentineofoctobers

At first it made you awkward, knowing your roommate had seen you like that, but the awkwardness turned to desire. Something carnal had possessed you as you found excuses to spend more time near him, teasing him until he snapped.

You started off tame, bending over slightly with lacy panties on, the mere display of them shown before you walked away. Then you grew more confident, wearing no undergarments as you wiped the floor down, your skirt leaving nothing to the imagination as the slit of your pussy tantalised his view, brown eyes drawn to your exposed cunt.

You grew frustrated as he expressed no need to fuck you, only offering you a longing glance and a slight view of his growing bulge before he walked away.

“Simon! Can you help me for a second?” You called out, standing on a miniature ladder to reach your top kitchen shelf.

You could hear him grumble slightly and his door shut, before heavy footsteps entered the kitchen. “What do you need?”

“Can you just make sure I don’t fall?” You cooed sweetly, indicating to the top shelf. You watched his eye colour disappear into a shade of white as he rolled his eyes before his hands were on your hips.

You climbed up to the furthest step, slightly nervous as you wobbled, feeling around the dusty shelf. You could hear Simon breathe out deeply. A heart shaped toy was wedged in your ass, the glistening reflection of lube soaking in-between your bare pussy as your clit visibly throbbed.

You spread your legs slightly, giving him a better view of your soaked folds, thighs slightly saturated with arousal as you hummed, clenching your entrance.

“Found it!” You smiled, turning around to look at him, “Can you help me down now?”

He nodded, his hands at your hips as he lifted you onto the ground. You offered him a polite nod, patting him in on the shoulder as you walked away. Simon let out a groan, taking in the tent in his pants as he groped himself, thick cock straining against the material.

Maybe you should have stopped at that. But you didn’t.

You left your door open just the slightest, an invitation, if you will. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before.

You bared yourself from any clothing, bare tits bouncing in the air as you positioned your needy cunt over a dildo, thick silicone sheath barring your pillowy walls as you sunk down. You let out a pathetic whine, cooing into the air as you dribbled slightly before you set a growing pace.

You were loud, harsh moans sinking into the air as you fucked yourself, teasing your sweet spots with every thrust as a hand came to your clit, rubbing the nub with fervour.

Simon grew irritated listening to you. The absolute thrill in your sounds stirring his cock even more.

Your body was docile as you rode the toy, a figure 8 swirling against your sensitive jewel as you spluttered into the air, a growing orgasm approaching you. You were so needy, so desperate for it as you screamed out, head thrown back as you came, gushing onto your sheets as your tits bounced.

Simon’s foot steps were heavy as he threw open the door, eyes wild as he took in your panting figure.

“You want to get fucked? That’s it? Open your fucking legs and I’ll make sure you’re never able to come again unless it’s with me.”

[harrycinnamonbun]

lando’s arms - cinnabun thoughts 18+

thinking about lando putting you in a headlock and fucking you from behind. he forces you to look into the mirror in front of the bed, watching as he thrusts into you deeply. nothing cute or gentle about it just pure carnal need, pounding into you as his bicep restricts your airflow.

he would whisper filthy things in your ear, telling you what a good girl you are for taking his cock. he would tease you about how much you liked getting fucked like this, like a little slut. your whines and moans would motivate him further, tightening the arm around your neck and reaching down between your legs with the other to work his fingers on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

your orgasm crashes over you when he tightens his hold, the combination of the lewd visual in the mirror along with the restriction of air sent you over the brink. you sink your nails into his veiny arm as you ride out your high, eyes rolling back in pleasure. the sounds of skin slapping and your wetness lubricating his cock were obscene, echoing through the room.

seeing you come undone made his thrusts more determined, his release nearing as your pussy clenched helplessly around him. he groans at the feeling as he spills into you, fucking his cum deep inside so he can watch it leak out of your perfect cunt later.

a/n - just got back to school, sorry i dropped off the face of the earth but this picture brought me back to life ‼️‼️‼️‼️

have ideas? requests are open!!

masterlist

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

dr ratio seems like the type to piss you off just to make you manhandle him and have your way with him, after all he'd rather die than admit he fantasizes about you fucking him until he's nothing but a dumb little slut <3

dr ratio is a haughty, know-it-all asshole that sees himself as above these carnal desires. he's far better than the idiots who throw themselves into meaningless relationships just because of a few sloppy orgasms and getting inebriated on dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin. he prattled on and on about the idiocracy of those around him, and you're his new favorite target, it seems. everything you do, he finds a new way to patronize and look down upon you for doing it "incorrectly" as he put it. even if you solved a math formula with a different method but ultimately got the correct answer, he'd snottily chastise you—it was unfair, he never did this to anybody else but you! it isn't until dr ratio corners you in an unused room, that you decide he needs to learn to stay in his lane and shut his mouth for once.

"don't—hic—i-i can't take—" he stops babbling when you push yourself further into his ass, mouth hung open in a silent scream as you continue to press his oversensitive walls in all the right ways. enough to snap dr ratio from his stupefied daze to suck in a sharp intake of air and start moaning like a dumb little slut. he's loud, moans rising in their pitch—nearly to the degree where you knew he was getting off being manhandled like some cheap toy. with a hand tangled in his soft locks and pulling hard—he cries louder when you do that and wiggles his hips in that cute needy way. his head's spinning, but it feels so good. he's being utterly violated by you like a whore, but it feels so incredible. he shrieks when he feels the stinging slap of your palm against his bouncing ass, and even more blood somehow rushes to his dick. he's losing his fucking mind right now, the nerve of you—! "you, i-i'll get yo—oh! right there, right thererightthererightthere..!♡" dr ratio feels his soul leaving his body as he cums with a loud shriek of your name, thick load being shot out so fast that the aftershocks feel painful. he can't think, he can't think about anything at all. he can only think about the thick weight of you inside his walls, and that he needs to fucked until he's a dumb little slut. just, just one more round wouldn't hurt...♡

[cameronsprincess]

you n me both babe… like it’s so fucking bad… i just need him in very concerning ways…

The level in which I need him is starting to become concerning. I need a fucking lobotomy.

[leashaoki]

Can’t stop thinking about riling up Gojo, teasing him until he loses control and breaks beneath you. He’d be so patient for you, biting back curses as you rid him slowly; the tantalising pace driving him more insane with every buck of your hips. You’d watch as his long, slender fingers twisted in the bed sheets, knuckles turning white in an attempt to stop himself from grabbing roughly at your hips and taking you exactly how he wanted to.

“Come on baby, you can do better than that,” The cocky grin on his face does little to hide his frustration, the smile not quite reaching his crystal eyes; instead they’re laced with something insatiable, something threatening. Your walls clench around him at the sight of the hunger in his gaze and he whines, his brows furrowing.

“Please,” He’d whimper, the smug expression reduced to one that’s almost wanton, “Please, I need you. Need you so fucking bad.”

Your rhythm doesn’t change, if anything it slows even further. It sends Saturo’s resolve crumbling, breaking apart piece by piece with every minute that goes by. His brows are pinched in the centre, mouth open as he pants pathetically, whimpers leaving his soft, pink lips. You’re addicted to the fire behind his gaze, the blazing look burning amidst his blue orbs burning brighter than you’d ever seen.

A growl rips through Gojo’s throat, his strong digits digging into your sides, hard enough to bruise. “Fuck this,” Saturo mutters menacingly, a depth to his silky voice that sends shivers down your spine. One moment you’re bouncing leisurely on his length, the next you’re flipped around entirely, face buried in the sheets and ass in the air, “Now you’ve fucking done it.”

He thrusts into you roughly, unapologetic as his hips snap into you from behind. A crazed chuckle leaves his lips, watching the way your ass bounces against him with a lob sided, carnal grin. Gojo holds your hips with a grip so strong it makes you gasp, bucking into you ruthlessly. He was never necessarily vanilla with you before, but the way he’s grinning like a madman and the speed of which he’s fucking into you is something you’ve never experienced. Today you’d pushed him too far, broken your sweet, loving boyfriend and reduced him to this.

You fucking loved it.

“Thought you could take control, heh,” You hardly recognise his voice, practically hearing the maniacal smile in his words. Saturo’s hand snakes up to your hair, grabbing it in his fist and pulling you up so your backs to his chest. He lewdly licks a stripe down the back of your neck, nipping at the skin, “Look at you now,” His tone turns soft and downright patronising as he speaks into the nape of your neck, “A dirty-little- fucking-slut.” Each filthy word leaving his mouth is punctuated by a thrust. It sends heat rushing to your core, he never spoke to you like this, always praising and complimenting you as he’d worship your body.

“This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it?” You tried to answer but the way he’s fucking you has unable to formulate a sentence. He loosens his grip on your hair, combing his fingers through the strands and a soft, wet kiss on the back of your neck, completely juxtaposing the way he’s pummelling your cunt, “Filthy girl.”

Saturo’s mind is hazy with lust, nothing on his mind but ruining you for working him up so much. The moans leaving his mouth are unabashedly loud, lost in the feeling of you around him. His icy hair is ruffled, eyes glowing impossibly brighter and that wicked smile still graces his lips. You turn your head to look at him and he almost comes right there, his brows pinching together in the centre and his eyes going lidded. “You look so fucking pretty when I ruin you baby.”

[samodivaa]

permeated by jealously

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Summary: In your tight-fitting red dress, you look ravishing for the date with a Russian guy—but the moment you retort to Bucky in Russian, it begs to be ripped from your body.

Warnings: smut, angst, kitchen sex, rough/possessive, unprotected p in v, miscommunication Words: 4k

Bucky's veins are full of the serum, but at this moment, they are full with belladonna tincture, the substance of jealousy. Seeing you with another man, he speaks of Love in the past tense. The scene that plays in front of him—that guy coming to pick you up from the compound, is perfectly adapted to a temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, already a memory. For a split second you stare at each other, you smile at him ruefully. A fleeting, lasting moment for Bucky. Why do you even notice him? Seeing you happy, gives mixed colors to the air of the moment—he is lost in time, sleeping being his only lover.

Bucky wants to kiss you. Instead he puts his lips on the tumbler glass, pretending that it is you. His t-shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and he runs a hand through his hair before he puts the glass down on the kitchen counter—flashes of you in that dress that you wear for your date and the way it lifts your body up from a single look races through his head.

His cock jerks and he shakes his head, grinning as he stares down the bottle of vodka next to his cup.

And, for the first time in his innocent and confined life, he senses in himself a potential for a different corruption that takes his breath away. He doesn’t blame himself. He is a curious, wanting thing—finally, enlightened and free, but also lustful and carnal. But It stabs at him, almost like a physical pain, and he feels both deprived and angry, deprived because Bucky wishes to be with you and angry, because his own choices causes him misery. ----- “It is almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare, you're so relieved. I just wake up into another nightmare."

"And what is that nightmare, Bucky?" He keeps his blue, lusterless eyes fixed on Natasha with a calm but warm and kindly expression in them as he thinks how to say it  "My love life” “Maybe you need to ask her on a date, that’s what Vladimir does”

“Vladimir? Oh , so it is not just 'that one guy' anymore?”  he says in a quiet voice, without a trace of irritation, with a note of the simplest curiosity, his lips quivering as a forced smile comes on to his face. Nat momentarily startles. Then she starts to laugh. “You’re jealous of him?”

He clenches his jaw. “I’m not jealous,” a note of personal affront creeps into his voice “I don’t like his name”  ----- You are on a date, having fun—but anxiety grabs his mind, it is self-perpetuating. Worrisome thoughts reproduce faster than rabbits, he is trying not to lose his balance. Not yet. Especially when the jealousy sets in. 

Bucky is conscious every moment in himself of many, many elements positively swarming in him, ah these, opposite elements. He knows that they have been swarming in him since you started going out with Vladimir and they are craving some outlet from him, but he doesn't let them, would not let them, purposely would not let them come out, because he believes there is nothing so self-destroying, and so despicable, as his jealousy. He tries to appear as a hard shell on the outside when you finally enter the kitchen at 1 am—while there is a runny mess on the inside as he tenses, waiting for you to say something, anything. When you near the sink, your fingers find the curve of the faucet, the metal cool beneath the touch. He turns around to lean against the counter as you pour a cup of cold water. Bucky stares hard at you, watching you take a long drink then he follows the flick of your tongue over your bottom lip. His heart stumbles a beat. He is in such an irritated frame of mind, because of your quietness that in rude and abrupt fashion he blurts out the words:    “You must love that dress”

He takes time persing down the length of your body as you take a step back, watching you press against the counter and then back up before locking on your eyes again. You are not wearing a bra and your nipples harden from having his eyes on you. Red, the front needlessly too scandalous—at least for Bucky. The dipping v lets him see the swelled sides of your breasts pushed up and together. Just to be sure, though, a golden necklace with a teardrop pearl at the end, letting it trail just over your cleavage.

  “I didn’t know that you notice what I am wearing when I go out”

You answer, trying to look as innocent as possible. The vindictive smile that stretches on your ruined lipstick sends shivers down Bucky’s spine—did you make out with the guy, maybe more than that? You look beautiful sitting there looking at him like a she-cat. All he has to do is look at you, and he lusts. He wants to take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to go out with anyone else ever again.

  “You’ve worn it for the second time. For your date.”

His gaze drops from your eyes, to the swell of your chest. Your chest tightens and you bite your lip to hide the grin wanting to escape. You notice the disgust written on his face and you laugh coldly, gaze never leaving his buff frame. With the certainty that you have well and truly punished him for not asking you on a single date. The angry, feral part of you feels so close to the surface that you can almost scent its blood-clotted fur. You want to lick the scratches you’ve made on him. You want to scratch him until he breaks apart. You gulp down the rest of your water to ease the heat flaming across your skin. Then you lick your lips. His gaze tracks the movement. You think you stopped breathing.

  “His name is Vlad” 

An audacious expression plasters on his face as you sigh in irritation at Bucky, rolling your eyes. Bucky is still leaning against the counter and rests his metal hand on the countertop while sipping vodka from the mug in his other hand. A beautiful yet deadly ornament—vibranium has no business being as hot as it is on him.

A note of personal affront creeps into his voice “Vladimir, mhm”

  “What else have you noticed about me?” your grin becomes a touch leery, innocently cocking your head to the side.

  “Try me” he says softly.

  “Favorite color?” you ask, interrogatively.

  He chuckles “Red”

  “Favorite quote?”

Your brows lift, anticipation making your nerves sing. You are not sure what he is about to say, but you have the feeling that it will be the right one, your heart leaps at the thought.

  “Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid”  he answers, this time winking at you  “I know everything about you, sweetheart”   he adds and you feel like smacking that stupid grin off his face.

His mind works well when it comes to his work as an avenger, hovering on hummingbird wings, but when it comes to you, especially when you purposely play with his jealousy, It finds a way to push through any seal of his mind, his expressions are always an array of masks he uses to cover it up his emotions—but now, it is all over his face, pure surrender, because he is affected and you can tell, he is staring impudently at you, awning for your response.

  “I prefer kotyonok. Vlad says that cognac and wine is all for the heart and that vodka is for the soul. If it's hurting real bad and you’ve never had vodka before”

His brows lift, because this does surprise him and his stomach tightens at that particular Russian word. His mouth curls into a small snarl at the thought of that stupid man calling you that. A pang of jealousy surges through him. The bad kind. The kind of longing that makes him wonder that there must be a natural comorbidity between sexual appetite and sexual jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill. He clears his throat, his face souring before his mocking tone grates:

  “Looks like you know a thing or two about me, too”   

He is trying to not be overcome by emotion. Emotion is the art of breaking hearts, minds, and tongues―but jealousy is too much, even for Bucky. He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control as he cages you to the counter, his flesh hand still holding his half full cup. Your throat gurgles slightly, looking at the bigger frame towering you through your lashes like the starved woman you are. You are overwhelmed by his bold move, leaving you both speechless and breathless, but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion here—lust, a longing that goes on a loop. You try to ignore his hard cock pressing against your thigh, your attention remains on his face. You feel drunk without a drink, your nerves tighten, making your muscles clench―this is going exactly how you want. You want him to kiss you. But you make sure to keep your facial features mundane and level.   “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to think you have a crush on me, Bucky” You also ignore the annoying, visible blush on your cheeks, he must have noticed it because his expression goes grim for a second before a surprised laugh almost breaks free from his lips, responding only by a clink of his tumbler against yours. Judging by the rumble that vibrates in his chest, he likes your reaction, though the noise ends on a cynical note. His blue eyes drop to your mouth, warmth pours through your body and you moisturize your lips as he presses his knee between your legs. Right against your clit—you breathe out, a wave of pleasure sliding down your spine while Bucky just tips his glass back the last of vodka, allowing the burn to sear his throat and warm his stomach—while casually grinding his leg slowly against you, creating a sensation that has heat winding through your core and shooting down your legs.   “Na zdorovie” (cheers) You smile venomously with a kind of joyous sigh, your arrogance in this moment makes you feel very confident. Up to this moment possessiveness has not been that much of a torment, now it suddenly gnaws at his heart. As in slow motion, he pulls back to put both glasses on the counter. He realizes that you do something to him. Every time. It’s your only detriment this past month. To step on his heart—to test his feelings for you, and his jealousy already has made him erupt like a volcano. He has never been jealous before he met you. It burns. Some nights, watching you go with other men on missions, even that drives him mad. 

   “You and that fucking mouth, kotyonok” His voice sounds ill-natured, bitter, politeness that would only be laughed at, restraining an unruly nature, wary of the ways that you are trying to provoke him, but his tone shifts at the last word. Voice warm and low. Intimate. You like it this way. You like the way it sounds and it makes you gasp.   “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl?” Your character has absolutely changed. It is an entirely new and hitherto unknown being who now stands and stares at him somewhat lovingly. There is evidently, he concludes, something at work here, some storm of the mind, some paroxysm of emotion which he won’t question. When you say nothing, his hands move to your waist, his vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire. You let out a deep breath and can’t deny the strange elation you feel when you feel his hands, needing more of it, of his touch. Your pussy contracts as his hands reach around, gripping a handful of your ass, forcing you harder against his both body and leg. The grip is both bruising and possessive, controlling every movement.     “Oh, god-” You open your mouth, and Bucky dips down, catching the moan with his tongue. Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head and keeps watching you with those fucking lethal eyes of his. Bucky gives a small grin, a fake one. The type that shows no teeth and barely lifts at the corners. You feel a very small spark to your ego, knowing you are getting a rise out of him. But all of the playfulness in the air drowns beneath the intensity of his thousand shades of blue dancing in his eyes as if he is peeling back your mental layers, his eyes looking down watching the bare length of thigh that shows through the slit in your dress. 

   “You and these dresses” he groans. Whether you want to admit it or not, physically, this man affects you more than anyone else ever has, and that causes panic to percolate through every nerve, you feel like you are losing control, but you don’t mind it. You feel vulnerable, exposed, almost at his mercy at this point. Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but his jealousy is combined with modesty and there's even something touching about the filthy words coming out of his mouth. He wants you—and finally, he is not afraid to both tell and show it.

   “Ya ne mogu vyrazit', kak sil'no ty menya zavodish'” (I can’t explain to you how much you turn me on) Your lips part and you swallow audibly while he has the most delicious visual of his dick slipping between them, your eyes staring up at him in surprise and that sweet tongue running along the shaft. He surges forward, your face is an inch from his when you breathe out, he breaths in before crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing his lips to yours. It is not a sweet kiss. It is hard, demanding, and possessive, borne out of weeks of pent-up frustration and tension. His mouth is hungry and insistent, his tongue probing your lips, asking for greater intimacy. You grant it, tongues swirling together, yours follow his when it retreats and tasting his in return. When he finally pulls back, he rests his hands on your hips, and stares into your eyes for a minute.

  “Tvoy zapakh s uma menya svodit” (your scent drives me crazy) 

He speaks without haste, controlling himself so well, yet there is something in his voice, determined and euphoric, resentful and insolently defiant. Passion smolders in his eyes as he traces the line of your clavicle with his index flesh finger, pausing for only a fraction of a second. And then you become aware of all the magnificent silk wrapping around your body, you have the feeling that you might drown in his eyes, his two drops of winter rain.   “I would love to make love to you, but not tonight”  He studies your face, pleading silently for your approval, searching for the smallest sign, the slightest movement of your brow, the vaguest reddening of your cheeks, the surprise of your eyes. At that moment, your soul clenches as well as your pussy. The hard dick still pressing into you distracts you from replying. You can feel your panties dampening. And your nipples are suddenly incredibly sensitive, aching as they pucker against the material of your dress. Your chest warms, desire winding like a rope around your core. You think you like Bucky this way. A smile shows on your face. This would be invisible to any, but the closest scrutiny—Bucky has noticed it and taken it for his sign. Then he leans forward and presses his lips once more, his sugar roughness, his possessiveness is what you need to finally feel.   “What did you do when you went out?”   “We had a few drinks. We danced.” you reply, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. His lip quivers slightly, forcing himself to seem calm, but Bucky’s eyes are sparkling irefully, there is no doubt in his expression the full success of your endeavors to make him even more detested.   “You danced with him?” he asks, with sudden vivacity.   “Well, he is my date” You murmur, trying to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, you sense a physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of your own heart, which beats visibly and audibly under the excess of agitation—but before you can even manage to open your mouth again, his metal fingers grab the front of your gown and pull it until it tears, no matter how beautiful, it was meant for another man—perfect breast on display just for him, his cock pulses at the sight. His touch tickles you on his way up to your boobs, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his palms. “Tony’s rules include no sex in the common areas” “Fuck the rules” he grits out, more animal than you have ever heard from a human. And then he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet—with the filthy touch of his hands, that unexpected warmth rushes through you. His thumbs run over the hardened peaks, making you moan and his dick is so stiff that he is worried that he might come.   “Ty moya” he says coolly. (you are mine)

   He leans in, his voice a rumble in your ear.   “Moy kotyonok” (my kitten)

Bucky moves, gripping the meat of your thighs before he spins you harshly around and bends you over the counter. Your walls are squelching around nothing as you feel him pull back, murmuring something in Russian, it is sinful—and pleasurable, drawing a muffled whimper from your mouth as you hear him tear apart your panties. You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you hear his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs before pressing his body against yours until every inch of him melds into you one more. Bucky’s metal hand grips your chin and forces your head back while the other closes around your throat as his cock presses against you—chills slide up your spine, arousal sending a shot of adrenaline through your center as you feel pre-cum on your naval. Fuck, he is huge. There is a certain satisfaction in manhandling you into this position, the flesh arm tightens around your nape, holding you close to him. 

   "How about we make a deal? You wear dresses for me and I take you out on dates?” He rambles against your ear, tongue slipping out to taste you, just a little bit. His cock nudges around your ass cheeks, to your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead with his metal hand, gliding through your delicate folds and returning his cold grasp around your chin. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you with ease, your wetness sucking him in, making it easy for him to thrust into you until he buries himself to the hilt.     “Fuck, you feel good”

Bucky moans quietly as his eyes close, focusing on feeling your cunt wrapping around his dick for the first time. His lips stay silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands hold, the way he fucks you. You want to see his face, but you can only imagine how perfect he looks.

His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind. It is an igniting feeling to have so much control over your body. It is sick and twisted, he has long learned to run from what he feels and wants, that's why he has nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control. And he needs to take control over something for once in his life. You. He has lost control over everything, even the places in his head. When your moans become too loud, his hand closes around your neck, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. His growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length.

   “Come for me, drench my dick”

He whispers, fucking his cock against your cervix. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath as you struggle to breathe. Jealousy…teeth dragging against your skin, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples, shooting up and down your spine as his thrusts never falter, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb.

Lust is the best of all the deadly sins, you realize as he pulls out and helps you go back on your shaky feet. It all happened too fast. You only wanted a kiss. You push his chest like you want him off of you, but your fingers have Bucky’s shirt clutched in them and he knows you are full of shit. You want him. 

   “I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.” The timbre of his voice goes into that low register that makes your insides curl in on themselves. You want that tongue to swipe your sex like licking the frosting off a cupcake. It is the sexual chemistry you want more of. It is electric. But guilt sets in. You are feeling torn between your commitment to building a relationship with Vlad while engaging with Bucky, in a way it feels like cheating. A part of you is hoping someone from the team would wake up and catch you, so you wouldn't have to live with this lie. But no one wakes up and in the silence that follows, you understand the nature of your new curse: you are going to get away with it. Your silence hurts him, his mouth tightens. But there are some wounds that he can heal only by deepening them and making them worse. And yet, sometimes facts are no more than pitiful consequences, Bucky knows how the public will perceive you if you are dating the former Winter Soldier. Seeing you standing there unresponsive makes him realize that silence has a sound—he knows that you regret sleeping with him. You are the people's favorite Avenger, the one everyone look up to with admiration and reverence—he is sure that you are thinking about it, but he understands. The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put his finger on—and he should be sad, but instead, he feels nothing. He feels a lot of nothing these days. He is empty, as if whatever makes him feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving him hollowed out like a shell. This is for your happy ever after, Vlad might be a stupid Russian, but he is at the very core of his existence—a real human. He turns around and paces the room, as if he can leave his regret, you, behind. But it cracks you as you see him walk away, leaving you naked like an ugly shadow made by himself. You have mistaken his lust for love. Regret. It turns into anger, into hatred. And where there is anger there is always pain underneath. You eventually come to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards Bucky who has hurt you, you are giving the reins of control over to him—maybe It’s time to finally say “yes” to being Vlad’s girlfriend.

[globesiem]

reminder. ★ lando norris, 4.

content porn with minimal plot, dirty talk, penetration, pr!reader, unprotected sex.

ideally, being lando norris’ public relations manager wouldn’t have to be such a chore. covering up every scandal, from the miami party rumors to every offhanded bratty comment he continued making to the media despite acknowledging their overdramatic reactions and nitpicky behavior.

sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if his overly loose mouth was a product of his lack of media training, or simply because he rather enjoyed eliciting a reaction out of you. quickly skimping behind him, throwing apologies across the room for your boss’ uncanny comments.

also ideally, the snarky and arrogant comments he made into the reporters’ microphones, wouldn’t end up with you pinned against the wall of his motorhome. somehow the line between professionalism and carnal desire began to blur over the course of your laboral relationship, ending up in a mess of teeth clashing together, desperate hands roaming the other’s body in an attempt to earn satisfaction, along with a string of pornographic sounds that could easily be depicted from a sexual film.

“lando, you need to be more careful.” your voice was faint and exhasperated, interrupted by his harsh thrusts that caused you to almost hiccup after every word, shaky hands tangled into his hair, tugging at the sweaty curls just barely.

“that’s why i got you, huh?” his tone dripped of faux sweetness, a tint of mockery hidden under the charming english accent that made your head spin with every small undertone or enunciation.

“don’t do anything stupid—” you cut yourself off with a loud moan, gasping for air as his lips commenced their nip on your neck, peppering love marks where his teeth slightly bit down. “—is all i’m saying.” you managed to finish your sentence with a pant.

“well,” he managed to mumble against your collarbone, pausing momentarily to direct his gaze to yours, a small smirk evidenly spreading across his lips. “too late for that now, hm?” his voice came out in a lustful tone, seductive, even. he acted as if you weren’t completely at his mercy, waiting for his wandering hands to make their way to where you needed them the most.

it was almost pathetic, truly. the way you melted under his touch, fog clouding every ounce of judgement you ever thought you had, soft mewls escaping your pursed lips at every ghastly touch; hands gripping your hips in a possessive manner, pulling you impossibly closer with a shaky breath.

“oh shut up,” you breathed out, sentence ending up in more of a moan rather than a strong imposition, tone of voice betraying the supposed thread of self control that still seemed to reign within you.

“me?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. you knew you were playing with fire, evident in the way his eyes seemed to darken with every teasing word thrown his way, constructed to perfection to keep luring him.

you were like a siren to him, so irresistibly beautiful he couldn’t help to shove his cock down your throat after a while of getting to know you, stuff you full of his cum while having you moan out his name in an utter haze.

could you blame him? seeing you walk around the paddock with those tiny skirts and mclaren team shirts that occasionally, and quite coincidentally, had his number on them, made him grow possessive of you, a growing thirst he could only cure with his tongue on your cunt.

which is how you seemed to always end up in this situation, pinned against the wall of his motorhome with his cock shoved inside your dripping pussy. your panties were somewhere in the room, torn apart by the same veiny hand that held your hips in place to thrust deeper inside of you, making sure to hit every sweet spot he seemed to memorize after each encounter, lips openly peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of purple bites as a reminder.

“so good for me,” he whispered, more of an affirmation to himself if he was to be completely honest. “wouldn’t want anyone else to fuck. beauty and brains, hm?” you were sure he never learned how to keep his pretty mouth shut, but you clearly weren’t complaining as your slick coated his cock perfectly with an encouragement of each word from him.

“please, lan.” you moaned out in a higher pitched tone than usual, head thrown back as he continued rutting his hips at a quick pace, a hand now trailing to your neck, gripping barely enough to increase your growing pleasure, another hand holding your hips tightly as a series of low groans escaped his lips.

“let go for me, darling. i got you,” he continued talking in a low voice, huffing as he pistoned his hips quicker, the sound of skin slapping accompanied with a louder moan from you, his lips carefully biting your collarbone.

“i’m, fuck—” you cut yourself off with a loud moan, needless to say your juices quickly coated his dick with a white ring of your juices as your orgasm washed over you, body slightly shaking.

with one final thrust and a few words you couldn’t quite make out in the haze of your post orgasm state, he came inside of you, shooting ropes of cum into your puffy cunt, continuing to rut into you momentarily to make sure it stayed inside deep inside, like a reminder.

“told you to be more careful.” you breathed out.

“and i told you, that’s what i have you for, angel.”

[yoitsjay]

[Frothing at the mouth, fiending, biting]

Brought by the pegging headcanons, and my GOD did you deliver.

Your writing brings all thw sluts to the yard and as a Certified Whore, I'm here to request a kinky! af reader.

[It is not a carnal want, it is a Divine NEED to see these men get OBLITERATED]

Toodles!

~😈 anon

I gotcha hon, order up!

Batfam with a kinky! Reader

Warnings: overstimulation, edging, use of toys, bondage, face sitting, (slight) suffocation.

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Bruce Wayne:

You and Bruce had been together for long enough now to where you had reached the point in your relationship where he was willing to try new things.

One of those things just happened to be letting you take some control in the bedroom.

You started slow with him, obviously you didn't want to scare him off with your freakish nature, which he had seen some of more on one occasion when he's railing into your pussy so hard he broke your bed frame and box spring- or when you’re choking and slobbering all over his cock and end up cumming without touching yourself-

But when he finally convinced you to let go, you did.

Now you were on your knees in front of him, stroking his cock slowly, occasionally squeezing at the base to watch him jolt in surprise and let out a frustrated groan. He was sweating, on the verge of breaking because you had denied him an orgasm twice.

“Please sweet girl-”

“Just one more time Brucie, please?”

You edged him only one more time, before finally letting him cum… but as he did, you didn't stop moving your hand, and his moans went from guttural, to higher pitched, almost sounding as light cries while you refused to pull your hand away from his twitching, red cock.

“Cum for me big guy, three times, to make up for the denial. You can do that for me right?"

And god he tried, he let you work him like bread dough as he twitched and jolded and cried out desperately for you to stop, but to keep going at the same time.

When you were done, you hadn't made yourself feel good, which he clocked as you were gently cleaning the sweat and cum off his body.

“You didn't-”

“It's okay Bruce, I still had fun.”

“No- no no let me- let me make you feel good baby, please.”

And who were you to deny Bruce Wayne?

You couldn't, definitely not with how you tortured the poor guy.

Dick Grayson:

It was spontaneous. You were riding him and like always he was grossly absorbed in the way your tits (or cock) bounced as you rode him.

But suddenly he couldn't move his hands, or touch you, and just as he was about to cum you stopped, and pulled off of him all together. “Wait!” He cried out immediately, struggling against the ropes as he looked over at you with a betrayed expression across his face.

You haven't even said a word and he was begging, tears welling up in his eyes as he bucked his hips up into the air. “nonono baby please not right now, don't do this to me now- I’ve been so good!” He whimpered out, then moaned like a bloody porn star when you finally touched him again, and began stroking his throbbing cock.

He was close.

And you pulled away again.

Dick sobbed, loudly, whining like a toddler who wasn't getting his way… which was true.

He was writhing on the bed, trying to fight the restraints on his hands. “Dick you know the safeword-”

“NO!” He practically shouted with tears in his eyes, looking over at you. “Dont stop-” he whimpered

You just smiled, walking over to him as you cupped his face and kissed him softly, seating yourself back on top of his delicious cock, biting at his bottom lip as he moaned out loudly.

“I wanna see you break that rope Dickie. I wont stop the edging until you do”

Yeah, he broke that rope pretty fast.

Jason Todd:

The rope had been something agreed upon before starting.

Jason laid beneath you, hands ties to the bedposts as you were seated on his face, one hand braced on the wall while the other gripped the bed frame as you rocked your hips against his tongue, moaning as he dove his tongue inside you, and lapped at you like a starved animal, even while restrained, his tongue still worked magic on the areas that needed it most.

Then he felt your thighs squeeze around his head, and your pussy was slotted over his nose and mouth, and you stayed there, grinding down against his tongue, but not moving up, or further down to give him space to breathe.

Again, this had been something you talked about with him. When you rode his face he would always end up pulling you down to actually sit on his face, he asked you to just relax, and sit.

Here you were.

Sitting.

It definitely caught him off guard at first, though your scent and taste was overwhelming to him… and when the airflow started getting cut off, and it was progressively getting harder to breath, he started getting lightheaded.

Then you felt something wet hitting your back. Your eyes widened with surprise and you lifted your hips, hearing him gasp and inhale fresh air as you watched cum continue to spurt from his cock, onto your back or his belly.

“Holy shit, Jason-”

Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, you looked back to him, eyes wide as you noticed the ropes had been snapped, and he had this dangerously hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Your turn.” Was all he practically growled out before his hand was around your throat and he had you impaled on his cock.

Who knew he was into not breathing… Death really did something to him.

Tim Drake:

“Ah! fu-fuckk- Mommy please- please I’m sorry- I’ll be a good boy- I'll be good just let me cum please- please mommy I need it-”

His wails echoed off the walls of your shared penthouse, only to get muffled by the weight of you sitting on his face, his tongue automatically slipping into your cunt as he writhed against the ropes that contained him, his body jerking with every movement of your hand on his cock, shaking with the vibrations of the dildo that stretched his once puckered untouched hole.

Timothy Drake had been reduced to a whiny bitch underneath you, crying against your pussy for mercy, of any kind really.

You had been teasing him for hours… perhaps it was only fair.

You sighed, lifting your hips off his face before climbing off the bed, removing the vinrating dildo, letting out a low whistle when you saw the gape it left behind… and that definitely left a tingle between your thighs.

You then released the ropes and he groaned in relief… Though the need to cum got the better of him as he grabbed you and pulled you on top of him, sliding inside of you with satisfying ease as he buried his face between your tits, tears streaming down his face as he rutted his hips up into you, gripping and kneading at your skin as he let out wails of pleasure until he bucked his hips up into you one last time before stilling, letting out his loudest cry yet before he practically went limp.

“Oh god- Tim?” You called out his name after he wanted to limp against you, you had to hold him against you to prevent him from bumping his head against the bed frame because he just went ragdoll.

“Tim, are you okay? Was it too much? Are you-”

“Can we do this again in a couple days?” His voice flooded your ears, raspy, but clear as day.

And you laughed, kissing him gently as you nodded your head, and began your aftercare routine.

“Sure baby boy, in a couple days.”

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi @only-my-unexistent-fiances

Batfam:

BW smut: @ilaiise

DG smut: @ilaiise

JT smut: @ilaiise

TD smut:

[holylulusworld]

Cookie Dough

Title: Cookie Dough

Summary: You only wanted to bake some cookies.

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo (2024) C2: cleaning

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, aftercare, smut, unprotected sex, sex on a kitchen counter

Rating: Explicit

Words: 796

Who would’ve thought the sweet and almost shy man you dated for a few weeks would turn into a hungry wolf the moment he got you alone?

You only wanted to bake some cookies and have a nice afternoon. Bucky had other plans. He was suddenly all over you. Sweet kisses and soft touches turned into something much hotter after only a few moments.

Bucky decided to worship every inch of your body the moment he bent you over your kitchen counter.

His muscular frame looms over you and presses you to the cool surface of the kitchen counter as he ravishes you. Bucky’s hips are flush against your rear, his thick, throbbing cock buried deep inside your dripping wet pussy.

His movement is almost primal. The air is thick with the scent of your passion, your moans of pleasure echoing through the room.

“Fuck, doll,“ he curses in your neck. “You feel so tight around my fat cock.”

You choke out a moan as you desperately grip the edge of the counter. Flour, eggs, and chocolate chips ended up on the ground. It’s a mess, but you couldn’t care less.

Bucky pounds into you relentlessly, and that’s all that counts now. He fills you up, his thick cock sliding in and out of your dripping wet pussy. Your movements are animalistic, driven by pure, unbridled lust.

“B-ucky,” you whimper his name, loving every second of it, your body quivering with each powerful thrust. “Please…”

“What do you want, beautiful?” He grunts. “Do you want to cum all over my thick cock, huh? Who would’ve thought my shy girl would turn into a whore when I fuck her?”

You whimper. Usually, you’d hate it when a man talks like that about you. Bucky, though, he makes you forget every rational thought.

Bucky's fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back to meet each of his powerful thrusts. His breathing is ragged, sweat glistening on his face as he gives in to the carnal desires coursing through him since he first met you. He was torn between worshiping you and ruining you from the beginning.

You arch your back and push your breasts even further into the counter as you revel in the sensations overwhelming you. 

The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the room fill your ears, and you moan even louder. It's a symphony of sexual delight.

Forbidden, dirty, and animalistic. Your coupling is not sweet or loving. It’s ruin, and you welcome it with open arms. “BUCKY!”

“Scream my name,” he growls, and rams into you, stilling as you clench tightly around his rigid shaft. “Scream it!”

“BUCKY!”

He slams his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit with ferocity to press another orgasm out of you. Bucky waits for you to stop clenching before he starts moving again.

Oversensitive from your orgasms, you whimper with every deep thrust. Bucky doesn’t stop. He gave you two, and now he wants his fill.

“Baby…doll,” he growls. “That fucking cunt is all I ever dreamed of in lonely nights.” You cuss, feeling him pressing you harder into the kitchen counter. He rams into you one last time, stilling his hips again as he shudders through his high. Warmth fills you, endless and sticky.

Your mind clouded with lust, you don’t hear the possessive mantra he chants. “Mine…mine…mine.” Bucky nuzzles your shoulder and neck, sighing because he finally could mark and claim you and your body…

Waking in Bucky’s embrace, you sigh. This wasn’t how you imagined your afternoon would play out. You wanted to wait a little longer and plan your first time with Bucky.

His kisses took your breath away, and you suddenly threw your plans out of the window.

“Morning, beautiful,” he murmurs and kisses your neck. “How do you feel? Do you want me to make you breakfast?”

You giggle when he moves his lips to your cheek. “I need to clean the kitchen first. It’s a battlefield.”

He laughs, deep and rich. “No doll,” Bucky murmurs. “While you were sleeping, I cleaned the kitchen and bought breakfast. We only need to get out of bed first.”

You look over your shoulder, smiling. There he is—the sweet man you met some months ago. “Morning, blue eyes.”

“Morning, beautiful,” he purrs your name and steals a kiss. “I hope I wasn’t too rough.”

“I like it rough,” you nip at his lips. “But we should stop wasting food, Bucky. Next time, let me save the eggs first…”

Bucky’s eyes light up. He feared his impulsive behavior ruined his chances with you. “I promise to always keep your eggs safe.”

You chuckle. “Well then, I know a few more places at my apartment I want to christen with you.”

“I can hardly wait…”

Tags in reblog.