#i was offered one and I was like oh I can’t eat that it has meat

[honeyblackberries]

In the back seat (18+)

caleb x fem reader/mc smut

minors dni | inspired by diet pepsi by addison rae | cross-posted to ao3

word count: 1466

cw: simp caleb, soft dom caleb, he also likes to bite, pantie freak caleb, reader enables him, praise, oral (fem receiving), p in v, responsible car sex <333 (don't get freaky in a rental car irl), irresponsible intercourse (caleb doesn’t wrap it before he taps it), porn with feelings, porn no plot because idk how to write plot but i also can’t really write porn so maybe this is a secret third thing, no set pov.

names used: pips (pipsqueak but cuter), good girl, pretty girl, my girl

If Caleb is being honest with himself this moment is something straight out of his teenage fantasies. Driving along the coast with you in the passenger's seat, listening as you sing along to a song that’s been on repeat for the past half hour. Hair softly blowing in the wind as the late afternoon sun glows behind you like a halo.

You’re an angel he thinks, how else could you bless him with such a gift on one of his rare days off. The keys to his dream car—with the disclaimer that it was only a rental during his visit to Linkon—and that short sundress… His gaze unconsciously drifts from the road and onto you.

Maybe wet dreams are a better description for this. The way the hem of your dress rides up your thighs while you shift to find a more comfortable position, cotton panties peeking out underneath it.

Your eyes meet his and Caleb feels his pants tighten.

Today was supposed to be a well deserved break from all the demands that come with being the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel. Something relaxing. Yet he can’t help but feel inclined to the complete opposite. Back ramrod straight and hand, previously loose and confident on the wheel, now gripping it so tight that his knuckles strain.

“I'm happy you’re here,” you say sweetly and he has to stop himself from acting like a horny dog. ��Is there anything you wanna do before we head home?”

“Eat you out,” he thinks dreamily.

“..What?”

Shit. Shit. How could he say that out loud!? He’s an idiot, a depraved fool—

“Well, okay.”

He almost crashes the car.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to—I mean—I didn’t mean to say it out loud,” you laugh at him and he isn’t sure whether to be mortified or turned on.

“Pull over.” He does.

Caleb doesn’t realise it but despite the less than innocent circumstances his silly reaction makes you smile. Happy at the expression that settles on his handsome face. How his eyes light up in a way you never really see anymore, giddy and unrestrained.

‘Cute,’ you want to tease, but he’s already rolling the tinted windows up. Undoing his seatbelt and moving into the back seat. Oh how could you keep him waiting when he’s just so eager? You undo your own seatbelt and amusedly follow along. Moving to get on top of him.

“Don’t hover pips,” he instructs—in that know-it-all voice he’s used since you were kids—and you don’t get the chance to consider it. Not when his hands trail under your skirt to grab your thighs and impatiently bring you down onto his face.

“Fuck you smell so good,” his nose presses right against your clothed heat. He inhales deeply. “I could get off just from smelling you, just from smelling these,” his lips part to let teeth graze the thin fabric of your panties.

“I can keep 'em when we're done, yeah?” His hot breath makes a shiver run through you in anticipation. His tongue licks down the centre where a wet patch starts to form. “I’ll cook dinner in return.”

You want to argue that he always cooks dinner. But you want what he’s currently offering more.

Your small hum of agreement is all he needs.

Safe to say, Caleb does mouth at you like a dog. Desperate, hungry, tongue heavy and slobbering. You have to push yourself against his chest to keep steady. The toned muscles there flexing as he eats like he’s been starved.

“Good girl, sittin’ so pretty for me,” his praise is barely understandable. Voice muffled and lower than a moment ago.

One of his hands leaves your thighs, his fingers moving to the fabric separating you. He teasingly pulls it back and lets go, a light snap against your skin. You flinch and he chuckles in response. He then pushes it to the side to expose you bare to him. Continuing to lick, this time with the addition of his thumb rubbing directly against your sensitive bud.

“Delicious,” he moans at the taste and sucks at your clit for more.

You’re not sure how long you last before everything crashes down all at once. Your orgasm racking your body and leaving you trembling. Dripping right into his open mouth.

The way your breath hitches and small whines you make when you cum always remind him how he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs. Forever wanting you pliant in his hold like this.

As you start to feel yourself coming down from the high, Caleb lightly bites at your tender flesh, making you yelp. He places a soft kiss in apology, even though you both know he isn’t sorry in the slightest.

In an act of revenge you start to reach for where he needs it. Fingertips barely brushing the large tent in his pants before he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Next time pips, I’ll go crazy if I’m not inside you soon.” At that you’re suddenly flipped around, back pressed against the leather seat. Wedged in the cramped space afforded to you between the car and his large body.

Caleb looks down at you with a wide grin. The lower half of his face damp with your arousal and his own saliva.

“Let me put it in?”

Even when he’s like this the words come out as a question. He’ll only do it if you let him, only if you want it half as much as he does. His silver necklace dangles in front of you and reflected in it is your lips, curled up into an affirmative.

Caleb wastes no time. Hurriedly undoing his pants and freeing his hard leaking cock. Leaning over you with one hand beside your head as the other grasps his reddened tip and nudges you panties to the side with it. Lining himself up he sinks into you slowly.

“You’re heaven,” he yaps, already pussy drunk. "You feel like heaven, ugh—like you were made for me. Weren’t you?”

He shakes his head at his own words, as if a better explanation came to him. Then he resolutely bottoms out inside you.

“No, I was the one made for you.”

“Caleb—” you whine at the feeling of being so full. Arms moving to wrap around his torso, not sure if to hold him closer or push him away.

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to fight off the orgasm that would have had him cumming from the way you say his name. Testingly, he pulls out slightly just to push back in. Repeating shallow thrusts to get you comfortable.

“More,” you beg.

“Of course,” he kisses you and you can taste yourself on him. “I aim to please.” His pace quickens, becoming rough. You can’t help but clench at the immediate change.

“Oh shit—loosen up pretty girl.” You try to.

Over and over you feel his cock try to make your cunt give in to him, and when he feels the grip of your walls ease up slightly he angles his hips to hit deeper.

You claw at his back, the fabric of his shirt catching under your fingers. The feeling of him too much.

“You like that huh?”

The car windows are fogging at the spike in body heat, neither of you letting up until you both get your fill. The sounds of shallow breathing and skin against skin the only thing that can be heard.

Caleb bites your lip when he kisses you in between thrusts. Like he wants to devour you in every way possible.

“I’m—close,” you bury your face into his neck, trying to ground yourself.

He nearly slips entirely out of you. Hips starting to lose their rhythm, a sign that he is too.

“I know—fuck—cum with me.”

Your release comes first, and he doesn’t last long after.

“That's my girl.”

His movements slow as he spills into you. A white ring forming around the base of him as a mix of both your cum tries to leak out. He grinds a few times to make sure it stays then collapses on top of you.

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes, relishing in the feeling of your chests pressed together as you cool down. Caleb’s cock slowly going limp inside you.

His hands move to cradle your face, gently stroking your cheeks as he kisses all over with cherishing lightness.

“I love you.”

“Love you too Caleb.”

Then he has to go and ruin the moment.

“Panties please,” he holds out his hand. Asking for a treat.

You sigh, the post-nut clarity kicking in. “I’ll give it to you after I wash it.”

“Don’t wash it.”

“...”

a/n: rip need everyone to know this was initially supposed to be a sylus fic. also what do we think do we like me actually trying to make the layout nice/not write in all lowercase??

[i-dared-myself]

Hard to Say

Stray Kids x reader

Requested by anonymous: happy go lucky older sister figure of a skijigi that reader usually is has faded and reader is going through a ROUGH depressive episode constantly zoning out, isolated, barely eats, she doesn’t really talk to the boys anymore, gets caught crying a couple times, etc and obvi the boys help her out and remind her they’re there n all n just HEAVY angst and HEAVY comfort 

Cw: Reader is depressed and skips a couple meals. Plz plz plz don’t read if it might trigger something.

Being staff is fun. There’s pressure sure but not as much as the idols face.

Plus, you’re faceless. Your face is blurred if you are accidentally caught on camera, and you wear masks most of the time. 

But maybe… Maybe that isn’t the greatest sometimes.

You don’t really get recognized for your work. It’s just brushed aside so that the idols can shine. Which is fine. That’s your job. But it’s frustrating when no one appreciates the effort you put in.

So you work harder, and somehow end up working closely to Stray Kids. You wouldn’t say that you’re best friends with them, but they remember things about you. They remember when your lunch break is and just so happen to take their breaks at the same time.

But they’re just being nice. It’s their job, just as yours is to make them look good.

Although you find that you go on a lot more personal tasks for them. Like helping Hyunjin pick which pictures to use on his Instagram posts. Or listening as Jisung complains about a terrible anime ending.

But the working so hard has led to you being burnt out. You’re fallen into a pit of depression and can’t bring yourself to care.

You’re so immersed in your thoughts that you don’t even notice Minho until he’s settled in the chair next to yours.

“What are you doing?” he asks curiously. 

You glance over your phone at him, crossing your legs. “Uh, just looking at some stuff. Do you need something?”

“No,” he says, opening his lunch. You continue to gaze at your phone, avoiding conversation. That’s too much work and you don’t care enough for it.

“Okay,” you reply, just as shortly as him. If you have a reunion of high school friends tomorrow, do you really have to go? You just don’t feel like having to force a smile.

“-I say?” Minho waves his hand in front of your face, scowling fiercely.

You blink at him unsurely. “Sorry?”

Mingi’s eyebrows draw together into an irritated expression you recognize as worry. “That’s what I thought. What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, absently deciding that you would have to go. Maybe it would be what you need to lift your spirits.

“There!” Minho thrusts an accusatory finger in your direction, lips tightening. “You just did it again! You keep zoning out!”

You huff and turn your face away. “No I’m not. I’m fine.”

“Minho!” Seungmin calls from the doorway. “Chan needs you. He wants your opinion on- Oh, hey.”

You force a strained smile at him. “Hi.”

Minho stands, glaring at you. “Eat your lunch. And don’t think that this talk isn’t over!”

You throw your lunch away as soon as he’s gone. Seungmin watches in mild concern, but doesn’t say anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of your coworkers are going out for drinks. They invited you along, but you politely declined. You didn’t feel like forcing conversation with a bunch of people you don’t really know.

“Taking the bus home?” Changbin gently asks as you search your pockets for your phone.

“Yeah.” You locate your device and check the time before grabbing your non-eaten lunch. Maybe you’ll have it for dinner so you don’t have to cook or find dinner.

“Did you want a ride?” Changbin offers. “I was going that way.”

“No. I’m fine.” You turn and walk away, staring at your phone. You don’t have any texts or anything, but you don’t want to talk. It’s too tiring.

“Are you sure? Because I know that your usual route-“

“I’m fine!” Tears burn at your eyes and you wipe them away before he can see. But they’re spilling out faster than you can catch, and you’re beginning to hyperventilate. “I’m fine!”

“Hey, what’s-“ Changbin reaches out for you before drawing his hand away. “Let’s sit down, okay?”

You shake your head, but follow him to a bench anyways. The air outside the building is chilly, but you don’t care enough to pull the jacket tied on your waist over your shoulders.

“What’s going on?” Changbin softly asks. He ruffles your hair. “Did you have a bad day?”

You sniffle and rub at your eyes, avoiding eye contact. Changbin hums and doesn’t push the matter further.

The two of you sit in silence for a minute, before you see your bus drive by. You cry harder, knowing that you’ll have to wait even longer to crawl into bed.

“I can drive you home,” Changbin suggests again. “But did you want to talk about whatever this is?”

“No,” you say, shivering. “I just- I wanna go home.”

“Yeah, let’s get you home.” Changbin gets to his feet, passing his hands up your arms in an attempt to warm you. “I’m driving Jisung too if that’s okay. If you don’t want to deal with him right now, I can make him walk.”

You laugh. You laugh for the first time in what feels like weeks where you don’t have to force it out.

It feels good.

“No,” you respond, ignoring Changbin’s fond smile. “He can come.”

You only have to wait a little bit for Jisung to come skipping out of the building, grinning widely when he catches sight of you. He waves, and you muster the energy to give one back.

“We’re taking her home,” Changbin informs Jisung. “She gets to sit in the passenger’s seat and you get the back.”

“What? Why?” Jisung whines. He huffs in protest, crossing his arms. 

“No arguing,” Changbin sharply says. “Now get in the car before I leave you here.”

On the ride home, you somehow end up staring out the window in a daze. The conversation goes over your head as you zone out, not even thinking about anything in particular. 

Jisung reaches from the back to poke at your shoulder, startling you out of your state. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, sinking into your seat more. You see Changbin glance over before focusing on the road again. “Just… Nothing.”

“Okay,” Jisung hesitantly says. “But just, like, you can talk to us. We’re cool.”

“The coolest,” Changbin agrees.

“So if there’s anything bothering you, we’re here,” Jisung finishes.

You blink to stop tears from rolling out. “Okay. But I’m fine.”

And that night as you throw yourself into bed, you cry harder. Why is it so hard to tell someone?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A night out with old friends, as it turns out, didn’t help you. You’re still in this realm of melancholy and can’t seem to figure out how to tell someone.

People keep offering, and you keep rejecting help. Why? Why is it so hard?

“Hey.” Hyunjin sits next to you, opening his lunch. “What do you have?”

“Oh. I didn’t bring anything.” You stare into your coffee dully. 

“What?” Hyunjin glances over, lips thinning with disapproval. “Why not?”

“Don’t want it,” you murmur, standing up. You walk out of the lunchroom, ending your break early. You just need to keep yourself busy.

“Oh, hi!” Chan says as you push past him. “Isn’t it your lunch?”

“I think it is,” Felix chimes in, smiling widely at you. “Where are you going?”

“Wait, we’re going out for lunch?” Jeongin pokes his head out of a nearby room. 

“She didn’t eat lunch!” Hyunjin shouts, catching up to you. 

“What?” Chan narrows his eyes at you. “Is that true?”

“I don’t want it!” you snap. Then you’re crying in front of them. “I- I want to want it, but I don’t!”

“Hey,” Felix soothes, holding his arms out. “Come here.”

You bury yourself in his embrace, sniffling. Felix pats your head and rubs your back, whispering that you’re okay.

“Whats going on?” Seungmin asks as he wanders closer. “Oh. Um, is she okay?”

“Can you tell us what’s going on?” Chan gently coaxes, peeling you away from Felix so that he can comfort you.

“I- I don’t want to,” you sob, hiding your face against his chest. Before you know it, the entire group has gathered around you, searching for ways to solve whatever it is that’s been bothering you.

“You haven’t been acting like yourself,” Minho says. He sighs heavily, frowning. “I - We, I mean, don’t like seeing you unhappy.”

“Why don’t we all take the day off and go out for boba,” Changbin suggests. “Our treat.”

“She didn’t want to eat, idiot!” Jisung hisses, smacking Changbin’s arm.

“S- Sure,” you hiccup out. You rub at your eyes, feeling exhausted and maybe a little hungry now.

“Nice idea, genius!” Jisung claps Changbin’s shoulder. Changbin shoots him an amused look.

Jeongin burrows his way between you and Chan, blinking at you with wide eyes. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“I- I think I’m just burnt out,” you quietly say. It’s hard to admit, and now you’re crying more, but also feeling relieved in a sense.

“Let’s go get boba.” Seungmin grabs your arm and drags you away. “And then we’ll get you some time off work.”

“Seungmin is besties with JYPapi,” Hyunjin jokes, ruffling your hair. “We can make it work.”

“And don’t bottle it up next time,” Minho scolds. 

“What, you’re going to tell her what to do?” Jisung raises an eyebrow. “What would you even do about it?”

Minho cracks his knuckles. “Wanna find out?”

“So tell us the next time something like this happens, okay?” Chan softly says to you as Jisung screams and runs away from Minho. “Even if we can’t help, I want to know. We care, because we’re your friends.”

You nod, taking Seungmin’s hand in yours. “Alright.”

Jisung sprints past, followed closely by a cackling Minho.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret @hansmic @imeverycliche @iwuberic @strawberryscentedd @lezleeferguson-120 @mbioooo0000

[charmed-asylum]

I can’t lie lord knows I ant lie but this man sure as hell does something to me and is so fine. ( I know hide behind my diva fan) but damn way he is in this chapter ahhh can’t tell me Frankie ain’t got a special place in ur heart and body. And maybe that why I’m honestly hit with this eh ah nah ahhh moment tho out this. Truth me told idk I can pull this apart and back together many times on when he decide YES THAT GIRL IS MINE because honestly he can give an estimated time when it happen and still like no. It’s the 4th chapter and within those 3 pervious chapters he push his way tho BUT again without the firm tug and the looks and the weird idk what. NO is in English. He been okay compare to how he could be cough cough just pick up throw in a hole and whine why don’t you love me. I’m border line on the doppelgänger be for him.

Lets looks outside the two of them he just in general like this and at this point he just Brock not the persona he can be. You know he shady and hell bent on things like his beliefs. So if he says something he one person I know it not to play if I was in a situation and for reader think she slowly getting it does she think to scream fight back and drag her feet yes. But I think maybe I’m wrong he enjoys that. Like giving the money or offering it back maybe he saw it as a slap. So to see how he is with people like waitresses I’m not surprised. “ He signals for the waitress and asks, no, tells her to get the check. He has a way of commanding everyone around him. Including you”

But he does this because once again everything he knows it’s truth and facts. Hence why he doesn’t ask he states and tells. The your going to do this. OR the look or the tap of the finger.

Example the waffles situation: “ There’s a few bites of waffle left on your plate but you can barely stomach what you managed to get down” and his response “ “That syrup is all sugar,” he flicks the glass bottle. “You should have eggs for breakfast. Good protein”

And way she responded to him I know it’s not in the trigger warnings BUTTTTT come on be real u know he doing this on purpose. That stranger you don’t know what I’m thinking or doing. Or the other of many ideas my mind coming up with. “ Now you know. I know you can listen. You can learn. When I tell you something, I want you to remember,” his voice is grizzly and grinding. “I don’t like to repeat myself.” Or how he again would do subtle things huff a look, push then poof“ You jolt in surprise as his callouses brush your soft skin”

Like he watch her eat that food til it’s not much left and then complains about what she eating and all she still says sorry. Then it’s the conversation he has with her. I could put it down til it end.

BUT LIKE HUHHHH WHEN HE DOES SMALL THING ITS MAKES ME WANNA FAINT. She like oh it feels like im his solider nooooooo no no its daddy way. Bc if it was solider sir would be the thing like the names the touches the pick some music small things. This part it self I can go on for hours. Idk way he is he efficient firm straight point but definitely won’t like to do the slow approach and not the quick kill 

No Sugar Tonight 4

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You look around the diner uncertainly. Brock slurps down his third coffee as you wring your hands in your lap. There’s a few bites of waffle left on your plate but you can barely stomach what you managed to get down. You don’t understand what he’s doing. 

He signals for the waitress and asks, no, tells her to get the check. He has a way of commanding everyone around him. Including you. 

His dark eyes narrow in your direction. You wonder if he can see your thoughts written on your face. You drop your gaze to the table and fidget. He sighs and wipes his mouth with a napkin. He crumples it and tosses it on his plate as he leans forward. 

“That syrup is all sugar,” he flicks the glass bottle. “You should have eggs for breakfast. Good protein.” 

You wince and look at him, “I’m sorry--” You don’t understand why he didn’t say anything before. 

“Now you know. I know you can listen. You can learn. When I tell you something, I want you to remember,” his voice is grizzly and grinding. “I don’t like to repeat myself.” 

“Uh, okay,” your brows tweak in confusion. 

The waitress returns and he pays in cash. He leaves her a tip but not a very good one. You only slide off the bench as he stands at the end and huffs. 

He keeps you ahead of him as he herds you out of the diner. You come out onto the street and dawdle just along the pavement. He comes up next to you and seizes your hand. You jolt in surprise as his callouses brush your soft skin. 

“I should go home--” 

“We’re going home,” he insists and tugs your arm. “I know you remember what I said.” 

You search the city street as panic rises up your throat, “but... I don’t know you--” 

“You know me. You need me.” He curtails your argument. “I don’t like you acting like this.” 

“I’m not...” you begin and shake your head. “I was only doing my job, sir.” 

“Not your job anymore. Things are different. How they should be.” He drags you down the sidewalk, yanking you into step as your soles scuff in reluctance. You have no choice by to keep pace. “You will have everything you need.” 

Your mouth opens and you snap it shut again. What can you say or do? He’s so much stronger than you. Besides, he already called your boss and ruined everything. 

“You’re really pretty, you shouldn’t make those face,” he says. 

You wipe the frustration from your features and put your head down. He clears his throat. 

“Stand straight. Good posture is important.” He girds again. 

You make yourself stand straight and measure your steps with his. He slows and you look around, searching for the reason. He approaches a black card and opens the passenger door. 

“In.” 

That’s it. His singular order. His hand creeps up from yours and up your arm and he nudges you. You obey. 

He shuts the door and goes around the hood. He gets in the driver seat and focus on starting the engine and pulling out into the traffic crawl. You shrink down and hug yourself. 

“Where... Can I get some of my things--” 

“Got em.” He snarls. 

You swallow the last of your resistance. You’re not sure what he means but you’ll take it as a no. You look out the windshield and watch the pedestrians and the taxis. Wait, you should scream! You should cry out for help! 

You peek over at the door and your hand trails towards the handle. The door locks with a thunk. 

“Do your seatbelt up,” he orders. 

You retract and do as he bids. He grunts and taps his fingers on the ridge steering wheel. He reaches over to clasp your wrist in his thick hand and squeezes. 

“I got a buddy on the force. Several. You wanna go for a ride to a precinct, I’ll take you there myself and we’ll see how that goes. You don’t needa be like this. I’m not hurting you, I'm helping.” He raises your arm and you whimper. You don’t know what to do. He pulls your hand close and he presses a kiss to your knuckles, a gesture both unnerving yet gentle.  

He lets you go and grips the wheel again. You rub your wrist as a tingle ripples in the back of your hand. You look ahead through the window then back at him. 

He’s a big man. Thick arms, broad shoulders, tall. His dark hair has a few strands of silver that blend into the rest and his jaw is shadowed with stubble. The cleft in his chin adds to his sinister appearance and an icy determination squares his features. 

“You can turn some music on,” he nods towards the radio. “None of that girly pop.” 

You hesitate but cautiously reach to touch the buttons on the dash. You scan through the satellite radio stations and find a song you know. The White Stripes. He hums but you can’t tell if he’s annoyed or content. You sit back and hug yourself. 

“I haven’t been mean so you don’t needa be scared,” he commands. Everything he says is an order, as if you’re his soldier. 

“Yes, sir,” you gulp. 

“Brock, baby, you can call me Brock,” he insists. 

[whirlybirbs]

not a question but,,,,, IM THINKING ABOUT HAWKS FLIRTING WITH DERECHO AND TOSHI GETTING JELOUS / FRUSTRATED AND A BIT INSECURE AND THEN SHE SHOWS HIM THAT THERE’S NOTHING TO BE INSECURE ABOUT BECAUSE SHE’S HIS like, you know what I mean 😭

i think what’s rlly fun about this trope is that, like, there is this point in their timeline where derecho is retired but all might isn’t.

she’s like, “gotta go to work!” and toshinori is being run ragged by trying to be his own secretary and all might. this is around vigilantes-era. he’s pretending to be mr. yagi of might agency, while being all might himself, unbeknownst to everyone there.

“toshinori, you look exhausted.”

“oh! it’s nothing!” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, “you know how work is.”

yea, she does. he’s running a one man show and he thinks she doesn’t know? sir, she’s your not-wife. she knows everything.

so, boom, she starts teaching at UA and of course she’s helping with hero internships — and it’s not just hawks (which is funny, because he’s essentially a child in her eyes. by the time he comes into top-pro scene, she’s in her late forties) who flirts with her.

it’s every single pro.

cut toshinori in his “official office” (closet), like, head in hands. he’s late to a marketing meeting because he’s saving cats from trees and solving international terrorism incidents and putting out forest fires and he can’t find time to file paperwork and now best fucking jeanist is having flowers delivered to the love of his life’s classroom????????

[through gritted teeth] oh edgeshot offered to take you to lunch, that’s lovely, der.

(ANGRILY STAPLES PRESS RELEASES)

which just translates to him going full fucking throttle into doting not-husband territory which is horrifying. toshinori is already a doting not-husband. now he’s ordering derecho flowers (he does every month anyway) but it’s those ridiculous 1,000 rose bouquets. he’s buying her the most expensive jewelry that hasn’t even been listed for sale from cartier.

“here’s $300 my angel my beauty my lovely go get your nails done.”

and derecho is like.

“……….”

1.) i don’t like roses (i like peonies and daisies, you literally know this)

2.) i don’t wear jewelry (i am a walking lightning rod, you know this too)

3.) i don’t get my nails done (it melts off my quirk literally eats gel polish, you also know this)

and it all clicks — and she gets this slooooooooow evil smile and toshinori isn’t naive. he’s loved this woman for decades and he knows that smile. he knows she knows he’s jealous and toshinori has said — for the aforementioned decades — he’s not a jealous man.

“i don’t believe you. everyone gets jealous.”

“i don’t. i feel very secure.”

>:)

well well well. she’s always right. she’s never been wrong once. you know it, too, don’t you toshinori?

which just means it’s toshinori’s turn to be babygirl’d.

[acourtofthought]

Lol not some elriels trying to compare Lucien’s POV to Azriels POV and saying that why didn’t we think Lucien’s POV was disgusting like the way people thought Azriels pov was disgusting.

And I am like hello? Did you guys read Lucien pov at all or did you skip it and then read Azriels POV 50 times over to replace it. Because surely if you did then that won’t even be an argument in the first place. Literally all he thought was taste touch smell. Emotions that he couldn’t control by the way because I don’t know? Maybe Elain is his mate? Isn’t his natural instinct to want her? but also even after that thought he immediately cuts it off and is like no she’s barely eating let’s take care of her first and then he offers her a biscuit so she can eat. And what other thing happens? Oh yeah he goes on to think she is the most beautiful female he has ever seen. And you can tell that that particular thought is without push from the mating bond. So it’s really telling how he feels about her.

Now compare that to “I can’t wait to see her beautiful face when my dick enters her. First time he calls her beautiful in his POV by the way. If I remember correctly. (Don’t know if that’s accurate but my mind is telling me it is and if it is then wow) It probably reminds me of why I had a sick feeling reading that bonus chapter it felt so wrong and not in the sexy way.

The constant need for elriels to make Lucien out to be a perv when he is the most respectful to Elain to the point where she has the most agency with the bond even more than him is truly mind boggling.

It's actually really odd when some try to compare those two scenes as some sort of a "gotcha" in regards to E/riel.

Lucien had never officially met Elain before. He hadn't spoken to her, hadn't known anything about her. Literally, he had to find out she was engaged through Feyre and asked Feyre to "tell me about her" which indicates Feyre had not spoken all that much about Elain to Lucien before leaving the Spring Court. So when he was in the room with her for the very first time after the extremely traumatic situation with the King of Hybern and the Cauldron, for the first time after he spent months with a bond that snapped but not having the chance to be close to her, after fighting for his life without his powers to make sure she was safe, after entering the territory of what he always believed to be his enemy with one sister who held him back from seeing her and another who was actually threating bodily harm if he got close to her, it should be understandable that his emotions were a bit all over the place. And like you said, he shut down those instincts as quickly as he could to show respect to her. Remember, some males feel that their mate belongs to him yet here is Lucien acknowledging in his POV that just because she's his mate, he has no claim to her, that she wants someone else. And a guy not being able to breathe because you are the most beautiful female he's ever seen? Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular" This guy is STRUGGLING with guilt over the fact that his past love is dead because of him and how he feels like he's worth a whole lot of nothing yet here is this girl he just fought his way across the lands for and the first time he truly takes in her face he can't even catch his breath because she is just that stunning.

To recap: Lucien fought his way without powers to be by Elain's side (someone he'd never had a single conversation with), entering enemy territory to do so, knowing she's engaged and in love with someone else yet he still wanted to ensure her safety, battling back his instincts yet still completely blown over by her beauty.

Whereas Az avoided Elain for an entire year, after knowing her for nearly two, with nothing in the text showing he cared at all about how she was doing after her fights with Nesta, all because he couldn't handle the scent of a bond that she will always have regardless of whether she accepts or rejects it. If Az can't handle the scent of her bond now, what exactly would he do if they got together and he was forced to smell it every day of his life? "She'll find a way to break it and he'll no longer scent it!" Ok, so you're telling me Az only wants Elain so long as she can make it easier for him to tolerate being around her? Sounds like conditional love to me. On top of that, Az didn't spare Elain a single thought outside of what she could offer to him. Not, "wow, she's come so far since being made fae" or "I'm so proud of her for standing up to Nesta" or "I wonder how she's doing with her father's death". Just "she got me a gift and didn't get Lucien one" and "she knows why I haven't come to dinners" and "I masterbate to her and wonder what her O face looks like".

It's not the sex part of things that is the problem, it's that is was sex and nothing else. It's that Az was focused on himself and not her. It's Az not bothering to be there for Elain, not being willing to put his own issues to the side for HER regardless of how hard it would be for him, it's Az not giving Elain credit for anything she's done as an individual (stabbing the King, standing up for herself, getting to know the fae in Velaris that she's helping with their gardens, her friendships with the wraiths).

Az with Elain reads as selfish (I mean, the text specifically tells us that he'll take just a taste and that would be it which again means he had zero plans of being there to support her after he took what he wanted) whereas Lucien with Elain read as selfless (he only gave regardless of whether he would get anything in return).

Boiling it down to "they have a problem with sex but only when it comes to this ship!" is being willfully ignorant. If Az had a single thought of Elain demonstrating respect her for her than we wouldn't be having this conversation but when he has never given her credit for a single thing that she's done that didn't involve him (Oh she got ME a present!!! Oh she knows why I don't come to dinners!), it's ok to feel disturbed by his behavior. Especially when this is the same guy who only a few chapters before listened to her say that people don't get to tell her what she can or can't do then proceeded to say she shouldn't be helping with finding the trove after she volunteered to do so.

[velmashaircut]

I just found out mince pies are not filled with mince meat but with fruit instead.

[diari0deglierrori]

Having siblings is a constant I wonder who I’ll be if I didn’t have them (positive) and I wonder who I’ll be if I didn’t have them (negative)

[thebibliosphere]

do you think pheromones would be a mcas trigger in an omegaverse type setting?

I mean, I’m allergic to my own menstrual cycle so probably. Sometimes other people’s body odor if it’s strong enough can make me wheeze so I imagine scenting and pheromones might have the same effect in that setting.

There’s probably some poor omega with MCAS in an omegaverse world right now looking at their calendar, realizing their heat is coming up, and just sighing. And also bitterly listening to their friends and coworkers complain about their heat cycles.

Like oh, how sad for you, you get inconveniently horny for a week 🙄

Meanwhile they’re eating Benadryl like tictacs and hoping their asshole alpha neighbor is wearing their scent blockers because the last thing they need is alpha stink on top of it all. They’ve never actually met them, but they can smell them.

This leads to an unlikely meetcute after the alpha next door has to stick them with an epi pen in the elevator and ends up going with them to the hospital.

When they find out the extent of what their omega neighbor is dealing with, it pings every protective instinct in their big stupid alpha brain in an entirely non-horny way.

Inexplicably they find themselves looking up low histamine recipes at 2am and showing up a few days later with hopeful offerings that won’t cause flares.

They start a fight with the landlord over the laundry facilities needing to be fragrance free and win. When people ignore the fragrance free rules (required to be upheld by ADA, btw) they start camping out in the laundry room and growling at anyone who brings a single scented bead into the space.

The instinct to protect goes so far that they show up one day with a hepa filter vacuum like “hey, do you mind if I just…” gesturing vaguely at the omegas apartment, and the omega watches in total bafflement from their allergy friendly nest as the alpha goes to absolute town on their apartment.

It’s only then that they realize they can’t smell them anymore, and realize the alpha has been wearing the strongest scent blockers on the market and the omega realizes, oh, oh, and goes all hot and squiggly all over that for once isn’t an allergic reaction.

It’s not lust. But it might just very much be love.

[pathologicalreid]

a love song for lady earth | s.r.

in which reader has her first experience with munch!spencer

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: oral (fem receiving), munch!spencer, a little bit of overstim, d/s dynamics if you spin in circles and then squint, pwp, cumming untouched, fingering, dirty talk, a little praise word count: 2.16k a/n: this one goes out to everyone who's ever gotten shitty head from shitty guys. also to people who like their men a little pathetic.

“What are you doing?” Your voice comes out higher than you anticipated. The slight panic in your tone sets your boyfriend on high alert, his eyebrows rising in curiosity as he hovers over you.

Spencer pulls himself up until you meet his eyes, concern and lust fusing together to create nothing short of confusion. He studies your expression, investigating your interruption with the kind of delicacy that he always has when approaching intimacy, “Baby,” he starts, “Have you ever received oral sex before?”

Your lips part in surprise, wondering why that’s the conclusion he comes to, “I have,” you respond hesitantly. “I just—” you falter, “You don’t have to.”

His confusion deepens, “I don’t have to what?”

“You don’t have to give me head,” you answer timidly, “Because it’s not— you just don’t have to.”

Languidly, Spencer drags his fingertips up and down your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “It’s not what? Now you have to tell me.”

You groan in frustration, looking up at the ceiling fan while you search for words that won’t set your cheeks ablaze, “I don’t like it, and I know guys don’t like it. So, you just… we can skip that part.”

“Just out of curiosity, what about it don’t you like?” Spencer asks, sitting up fully between your legs, one hand resting on your knee, keeping your legs parted.

Looking down at him, you chew on the inside of your lip, knowing you have his undivided attention when you speak up, “I just don’t get any pleasure out of a guy trying to French with my vagina while I fake moan.”

“Ah,” Spencer breathes, “So, you’ve never received good oral sex before,” he amends his previous question.

Propping yourself up on your hands, you raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “I’m not entirely convinced there is such a thing, and will you please stop calling it oral sex? It sounds so clinical.”

He crawls over to you, putting his face right in front of yours, “Do you trust me?”

You frown, “Of course I do, what does that have to do with any of this?”

“Would you be willing to let me go down on you?” The earnestness in his tone catches you by surprise. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wants to eat you out.

Humming affectionately, you tilt your head at him, “Do you really want to? I always thought guys hated doing it.”

Spencer raises his eyebrows, “Then I guess that demographic doesn’t apply to me.”

“Oh,” you breathe, “You can… We can try,” you offer. Nerves twist in your lower belly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, your eyes fall shut as he leans his head forward, pressing his lips to yours while his hand starts to pull at the waistband of your panties.

Your boyfriend’s lips are almost unfairly soft against your own as his hands continue to undress you, pushing your t-shirt up around your waist and pulling down your underwear to the middle of your thighs. Pressing his forehead against yours, Spencer pulls away ever so slightly, “You can always tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

Nodding, you can’t help but be curious about his plan. You find yourself questioning every partner you’ve had in the past, or maybe Spencer just has a special talent with his mouth—he certainly was good at running it. “Yes,” you say, kissing him again before he moves his head down.

“Thank you,” he mutters, bringing his head back down to where it was before you’d stopped him. Spencer lazily drags your panties down your legs, flinging them across the room to be found later before dropping his head between your knees, littering small, slow kisses along the insides of your thighs. “Pretty girl,” he hums, inspecting your glistening sex with peaked interest.

Your cunt clenches around nothing at his words, earning a chuckle from Spencer as he set on top of your mound, pulling the skin taut before blowing cool air on you. You jump in response, looking down at where he’s smirking from between your legs. Admittedly, you’d never felt so dizzy at the prospect of having a man go down on you, he just looks so pretty.

He hums absentmindedly, “Just making sure you’re paying attention,” he teases.

There could be an air raid siren going off and you’d still be too focused on him to take cover. His movements are calculated as he exposes your clit to the air, leaning his head down and pressing his tongue flat against your folds, licking a stripe before readjusting himself on the bed.

A constellation of feather-light kisses is left everywhere, your inner thighs, up toward your hip bone—everywhere except where you really need him. Your clit aches with need as he continues to tease you, the pad of his thumb skimming ever so slightly over the sensitive bud, relieving only a fraction of the pressure that’s building up. “Spence,” you breathe.

“Are you enjoying this?” He asks, lifting his head up and looking at you curiously.

You nod once, “Are you?” You challenge.

His head drops again, and your breath hitches when he answers, “Immensely.”

Spencer continues but doesn’t move on, studying your anatomy so intently that it only serves to turn you on even more. His hand ghosts over your folds, running a finger over your slit and chuckling when your hips buck up in response to the stimulation.

He could’ve gotten you to beg, had that been his goal, you would’ve babbled please so incessantly that the word no longer held any meaning, but that wasn’t what Spencer wanted. He wanted you to enjoy receiving pleasure in a way that no man had ever wanted before.

“You’re just so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, watching you intently.

Before you had a chance to reply, his mouth was on you again, his tongue deftly slipping between your folds and poking at your entrance. Other than working you up, you didn’t feel any different than you had previously. You give a gentle hum of encouragement—at least he tried, and at least you’d be wet enough for sex.

Spencer curls his tongue, dragging your slick up to your clit, and that’s where he finally got you. His tongue pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves as you squirm beneath him, your body moving faster than your brain as your hips move away from his mouth, “Shh,” Spencer coos, “It’s okay, baby. I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”

Taking a deep shuddering breath, you nod. You open your mouth to form a reply, but the only thing that comes out is a breathy sigh.

Carefully, Spencer moves your legs, placing your thighs on top of his shoulders, giving you one more glance before diving back in, kitten-licking your clit while you try to catch your breath.

“Spence,” you cry, feeling an orgasm that you previously hadn’t thought was possible building in your lower belly. A swarm of nerves and aches of pleasure thrumming through your body like electricity.

He readjusts, lifting his head more so that his lips can wrap around the sensitive nub, his mouth gently suckling on it.

At a loss for what to do with your hand, they find their way down to his head, weaving your fingers through his hair as his ministrations drive you closer and closer to an orgasm. Tugging at the soft curls earns a groan from him, the vibrations on your clit causing you to cry out, “Oh my god.”

He drops one of your legs, moving his hand up to grab one of yours before you cum, squeezing his hand as he gently nips at your clit, further encouraging your orgasm.

“I’m— ah, please,” you babble nervously, inhaling sharply as your orgasm washes over you, cunt clenching around nothing as Spencer’s mouth continues working at you, licking softly as your back arches off of the bed, sweat causing the sheets to stick to your skin.

Your thighs are trembling by the time Spencer comes back up, his mouth shining with your arousal as he breathes as heavily as you. His hand cups your sensitive sex when he leans forward, leaning in to kiss your lips.

The taste of yourself on his lips doesn’t even cross your mind as you cup the back of his head and pull his mouth to yours. The tang of your own cunt on your tongue draws a moan from the back of your throat, and you jump when one of Spencer’s fingers gently teases your interest, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your head spin.

“Can I go back?” Spencer asks, looking down at his hand briefly before returning to your eyes for permission.

Your mouth gapes, “You want more?”

He groans in response, “Angel, I’d spend all day between your thighs if you’d let me.”

Your stomach flips, mourning the fact that you had plans in the afternoon, “I might just take you up on that someday.”

Lifting your body from the pillows, Spencer tugs your t-shirt the rest of the way off your body, leaving you fully nude in front of him, “Fuck,” he groans, gently guiding your back to the mattress as he attaches his lips to your neck, leaving your fingers clawing at his back.

His head moves lower, nipping and sucking at your collarbones, leaving light marks as he makes his way down to your chest. His lips scatter kisses all along your breasts as he moves down, down, down. Right until he’s right where you want him, and right where he wants to be. “Oh,” you whimper, taking in a shaky breath while he tentatively presses his index finger into your wet hole.

“Poor baby,” Spencer coos at your sensitivity, “You’re doing so well, letting me fuck you with my mouth. All you needed was someone to suck your clit.”

You sigh dazedly in response, every thought in your mind evacuating as his mouth drops to your pussy again, languidly lapping at your cunt while his finger eases into you, “You’re so good at this.”

He hums against you in response, the vibrations causing your body to shudder and your hands to return to their home in his hair. The feeling of his mouth gently sucking on that little bundle of nerves and his finger starting to thrust makes your walls clench.

A strangled moan escapes your mouth when he adds a second finger, his second and third fingers driving into you with a steady rhythm as his tongue flicks your clit in calculated movements. The recognition of your impending orgasm hits you, “’m close,” you breathe, gasping as his movements don’t relent, tears prick at your eyes as you chase that high.

Spencer pushes your legs further apart with his spare hand, keeping your thighs from closing around his head as he moans against your cunt. You pull on his hair, eliciting another groan from him that sends you hurtling into your second orgasm, crying out his name like a prayer as he tapers off his ministrations.

His hand slows first, gently working you through your orgasm as his tongue laps at your clit, gentle movements soothing the hypersensitive spot as you catch your breath, tears trickling down your cheeks as you smooth out the hair on his head. He pulls away from you, releasing your trembling thighs and letting them fall around him as he tiredly rests his head on your abdomen. “Spence,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, causing him to rest his chin on you, meeting your eyes as he wipes your slick from his mouth.

He hums a response, “My love,” he murmurs, eyes closing as he enjoys the feeling of you playing with his hair.

You chew on the inside of your lip nervously, “Do… do you need me?” Your question was tentative, unsure if he wants you to reciprocate.

“Uh,” he says, equally as unsure, “That’s not necessary.”

You raise your eyebrows, “It’s not like I feel inclined to, but I’d like to… to return the favor.”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, I mean I’m taken care of. I already…” his voice trails off, leaving you to fill in the blanks.

“Oh,” you breathe, “Oh.” Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, hiding your smile, “Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Desperately. You were trying desperately not to laugh at the prospect of your boyfriend cumming in his briefs.

He rolls his eyes in response, clearly unbothered. He seems almost proud, and you suppose it’s not often that a man finishes from giving head. “So,” he starts, moving his hand and using his fingertips to draw stars across your bare skin, “Did you enjoy it?”

You huff in response, the answer is obvious, but he just wants the victory of knowing he’s changed your mind. Who are you to refuse him of that? “Immensely,” you answer.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced/accidental bonding, subjugation

♡ part one

♡ fem reader

Once you wake up in the morning, you feel… changed.

Your body feels full—as though you’d indulged too much last night—heavy and sticky and sore all over. There’s a strange taste in your mouth—sweet, somewhat salty, and metallic. Geez, you’re head’s pounding—how much did you drink last night? No, this feels different from a hangover—more full-bodied than that—a withdrawal of some kind or another. You must have done more at the party than drink, and yet, you can’t remember having stayed there all that long. No, you left with someone. That’s right. You went with… that overgrown Omega.

Oh no.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He comes in only wearing a pair of snug boxers—body stacked with brawn, not a single hint of Omega-like softness aside from his tousled bed hair. There’s a big toothy smile on his face—eyes are creased in cheer while carrying an overfull breakfast tray. You know you’re hungry, and yet you can’t bring yourself to feel anything but sick to your stomach by the horrid sight of his flaunted neck, decorated by a gory ring of your bitemark.

No. No, no, no, no, no! Fuck! “Tell me that’s not what I think it is…”

He laughs lightly with an awkward smile, apologetically scratching the back of his neck while balancing the tray in the other hand. “I’m afraid so…”

The world stops spinning, and for a moment, you think it might actually never start up again. Your throat snares, and you think you might throw up. How the fuck could this happen?

He sets the tray down next to you, then himself. The whole bed takes waves upon his weight. You remain still—eyes unrest and mouth hung.

“Hey, I know this might not be what we had planned, but…” he starts.

But you don’t let him finish before declaring, “I’ll take full responsibility.”

There’s nothing else to do, you think. The red string of fate has tied the two of you together. It’s sealed.

“There is no going back now.”

His face expresses shock, but if you’d taken a closer look, he’d probably not be able to hide it—the overwhelming sensation of victory. Oh, bless your Alpha pride. He knew you would say that.

He smiles softly. “I’m in your care then.”

It’s a work in progress after that—slow in the beginning, but that’s to be expected. You never pegged yourself to be the type who got caught up in the unmendable mistakes of a one-night stand, but then here you were—mated with a stranger, moving into his apartment because it’s bigger and closer to work, sharing the same bed and eating the same meals and helping each other through one another’s ruts and heats.

He's still no closer to being your type. In fact, he’s the total opposite—too giant to give you even a semblance worth of superiority over him. A couple of days ago, when he’d been searching for the remote in the couch you were lying on, he’d taken to pick you up instead of just asking you to move. It was completely humiliating. He’s so brazen, and it’s starting to become clear he’s doing it all on purpose!

He doesn’t get fussy when you state your claim of being the one on top—no, but what he does instead is somehow worse, going along with it with snide praise, grinning up at you, his big hands weighing heavy on your haunches as you roll them, calling you his good girl. It seems to humor him how it angers you—chuckling behind your hands as you layer them both atop his mouth, growling at him to “Shut up!”

No, he doesn’t mind letting you take charge. He rather enjoys the view of watching you ride—working so hard to appease him while he rests pretty and admires your body—all soft edges and plush curves. You tire quickly, though—poor thing, why don’t you leave the rest to him?

You had rejected it the first few times he’d offered. Your bruised pride simply wouldn’t have it—you’d rather you both stop than let him finish you off. But a couple more nights and you’d quicker come around than either of you expected—perhaps worn down by his constant nagging or simply fed up with your own failure—you let him assist by bouncing you on his lap.

You wouldn’t admit it to his face, never, but you’d enjoyed it far more than you could have ever thought…

Thankfully, your face in and of its own glory told him all he needed to know. It didn’t take long before he’d taken full advantage of it, nor for you to begin allowing it without being asked. Soon you were letting him fuck you against the wall, making the entire room shake—wall creaking and shelves rattling, pictures falling down. You hold your tongue and hold on tightly, arms and legs wrapped around him—moaning sweetly right by his ear. Fuck, you even bite him again.

As time passed, you came around to indulging more and more of his antics. Letting him fuck you from behind—hard and heavy and deep—thrusting into you while grappling your waist. You even go down on all fours when he does it—digging your claws into the sheets.

Lying belly-up beneath him still makes you feel nervous—and slightly ashamed—almost convinced something’s wrong with you for liking it. And yet you can’t help it. You know any other Omega wouldn’t fuck you like this. They wouldn’t have the stamina, the drive, or the desire. Not like him, who does it all like it’s his nature even when it shouldn’t be.

Guess you’re both freaks.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Isagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[peachesofteal]

The wallflower.

Johnny clocks it immediately, your shoulders practically pinned against the pale-yellow wall, pint glass slick with condensation cradled between your fingers. Your eyes dart around and then away, finding something to study in the carpet, or the stairs, on the coffee table.

You’re not comfortable here, that much is clear.

He elbows Simon. “Poor girl looks nervous.” Simon gives you a furtive glance over the rim of his glasses, and nods.

“Probably only knows one person. Or got dragged here.” It’s Kyle’s wife’s birthday party. She has a lot of friends it seems, well liked in all facets of her life, work and otherwise. He clucks his tongue. “Sweet thing.” Someone bumps into you, and then pivots, reaching out to grab your arm in apology. You don’t tell him off or pull away. You just glance at his hand, meek smile stretching your lips sour. It turns Johnny’s stomach.

“She needs rescuing.”

“Johnny.” There’s a warning in Simon’s tone, a reproachful sentiment that he knows well. No strays. No projects. No more shelter pets.

“Ach c’mon. Look at her.” That one muscle in Simon’s cheek feathers, the one that says everything without Simon saying anything at all. Broken resolve.

He sighs. Johnny grins.

“Ye alright?” The man who’s taken up a residence at your shoulder is now speaking to you. Worse, he’s asking you if you’re alright.  

“I… I’m good. Yeah. Fine.” You grip your glass tighter, ignoring the flip of your stomach. You snuck at glance at him when he first came over, and that was enough. He’s very handsome.

And you’re, well-

You’re… you.

“Someone ditch ye?” Oh god.

“Uh, no. My friend is over there.” You point to Anna’s back. She’s in the kitchen, laughing so loud you can hear her from across the living room.

“Ah. She did ditch ye.”

“No!” You glare at him, “No.”

“But she didnae offer to introduce you to anyone?” You wince, and his eyes flicker with sympathy. “Ah, she did.”

“I’m not good with… people.” The understatement of the year. You don’t do people. People are too unpredictable, too much of an unknown. A pattern of behavior will only take you so far, and it’s hard to forecast their actions, reactions, words, emotions… everything.

You prefer safer bets. Predictable things. Equations, mostly.

“Ye’re not good w’people, but ye’re at a party.”

“Yes, it’s quite a feat.” You snap your mouth shut, expecting him to give you a weird look, but he laughs.

“If ye’re uncomfortable, why stay?”

“Because, social interactions are good for me. And I promised myself a slice of cheese pizza if I made it an hour.” He should laugh. Most would. Most would think it’s fucking hilarious, how you’re bribing yourself, dangling a carrot in front of your face.

But this guy doesn’t. He doesn’t laugh. He cocks his head, and frowns. “So… ye’re torturing yourself so ye can earn a slice of pizza.” A nervous giggle bubbles up and out your throat.

“It sounds bad when you put it that way but-“

“It is bad.” A deep voice sounds from over your shoulder, and you jump.

“This is Simon.” Your new… friend, Johnny, motions to the hulking man at your side, and you manage a nod, spitting out your name. “He’s no’ scary, just looks it.” Johnny reaches for his hand, and the equation clicks to together with ease.

Oh.

“You here with a friend?”

“Uh. Yep.” You point to Anna, again, and they exchange a look.

“She ditch ya?” Same question, different accent, and you’re about to give the same answer, when Johnny intercedes.

“She’s here so she can have a slice of pizza.” Yeah. It sounds bad.

“Wot?”

“I… It’s good for me to be around people so I said if I could do it for an hour, I could have pizza.” They’re both wearing expressions you can’t translate, two faces you don’t understand, and it twists you up.

“Do you usually ransom yourself pizza?”

“N-no.”

“Is it… an eating thing?”

“Oh, no. It’s like… I’d rather be at home, but everyone says socializing is… important. So, for doing something I hate, I get pizza.” Simon sighs.

“Trying to fit a square into a circle.” The comment is puzzling, but as you’re trying to put it together, Johnny links his pinky with yours and tugs you closer. The room is quiet, the music, the laughing, the chatter, all of it goes silent. There are dozens and dozens of people in here, but right now, it’s just you and these two. Staring at one another. There’s a web thin string spinning from him, to you, to Simon, and it’s wrapping you up, cocooning you, holding you tight.

“This okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Ye wannae go get that slice with us?” Do it. Just do it. Do something. You take a deep breath.

“Sure.”  

They look comical, shoved into the pleather red booth across the table from you, Simon far too wide to comfortably accommodate Johnny, but they don’t seem to mind. “So, cheese then?” You nod, picking at the faded corner of a menu. This was a bad idea, this was stupid. What were you thinking? Why-

“Three slices of cheese please.” You hadn’t even noticed the server, and you panic when she starts to turn away.

“And a coke!” You blurt, immediately embarrassed. She stares at you for a second before nodding, forcing a smile, and walking off. Fuck. You press your palm down on the table, trying to focus on the texture, the feel of it.

“Hey,” Simon says softly, “you didn’t do anything wrong.” You bristle.

“I know that.” Of course you know… don’t you?

Clearly not.

They don’t try to force you into conversation, but they do talk to you. They don’t ask you pointed questions or try to dig into you, instead choosing to tell you about themselves, their dog, their jobs. They keep you involved without dragging you in unwillingly.

It’s nice.

You’re halfway through your slice when you realize they’re watching you.

 “What? Is there something on my face?” You frantically wipe at your chin, your cheeks. Simon’s mouth quirks.

“Nothing on your face, sweet girl.” Your brain scrambles. Words fail. You don’t think anyone has ever called you something like that before.

“Oh. Okay. Well. Good.” Stupid.

“Go on and finish up.” He instructs, pointing at the grease laden slice, and you bring it to your mouth obediently. “Want to come for a walk with us after this? Our favorite park is around the corner, and the moon is really bright tonight.” A walk. With them. A walk? What does that mean? Just like, a walk?

Do it. Just do it. Do something. Be brave.

You roll your shoulders, and take a bite of your pizza, chewing slowly and swallowing.

And then you nod.

“Yes.”

[flwrkid14]

Take My Heart, Take My Name

Listen. Danny is a menace with affectionate nicknames, and Tim is so weak for it.

It starts small, a casual “hey, babe” here, a “thanks, darling” there. Tim thinks he’s fine at first—sure, his heart skips a beat, and yeah, maybe he has to take a moment to compose himself, but he tells himself it’s no big deal.

Except then Danny takes it up a notch, like he’s testing Tim’s self-control.

Honey. Danny calls Tim honey one night and Tim seriously thinks it's game over. He's done for. Finished. Danny could ask him to jump into a Lazarus Pit, and Tim would already be in mid-air. “Hey, honey, can you grab my jacket?” Yes. Yes, he can. He can grab Danny’s jacket, his wallet, his hand in marriage—whatever Danny wants.

And just when Tim thinks he’s adjusted to that, Danny has to go and casually destroy him again.

“Morning, Polaris,” Danny says, voice soft and warm, and Tim nearly drops his coffee mug. Polaris. His chest tightens at the word, at the meaning behind it. The North Star—the one constant in the sky, the guide through uncertainty. That’s how Danny sees him? It’s almost too much. Tim has to physically turn around and pretend to check his phone, hiding the way his face burns and his throat tightens with something dangerously close to tears. Danny doesn’t just say it like it’s some throwaway nickname; he says it like it’s a promise, like he’s quietly reminding Tim just how much he means to him.

But the real killer? The absolute fatality? It’s when Tim overhears Danny talking about him to someone else.

“Oh yeah, Tim’s amazing,” Danny says, casually. “My man’s the smartest guy I know.”

My man.

Tim’s entire world stops. He doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until he exhales a few seconds later, completely dazed. My man. It’s not just that Danny’s saying it; it’s the way he says it. The pride in his voice, the casual possessiveness, the ease with which he claims Tim like that—like they’re already this unshakable thing. His. And Tim can’t believe it.

It doesn’t matter that they’ve been together for a while; hearing Danny claim him like that still makes him feel like he’s the luckiest person alive. Every time Danny says it, Tim can feel his heart racing, his head spinning.

And how could he not? He wants to give Danny everything. Every inch of himself, every breath, every dream, every fear. Tim wants to live his life wrapped in Danny’s laugh, stitched into the fabric of his love. If Danny wanted proof, Tim would carve his devotion into the stars themselves, would pluck out his own heart and place it in Danny’s hands as an offering. He’d give up anything, anyone, just to keep Danny smiling like that, to hear him say my man again.

Tim’s in a puddle, utterly lost in the warmth of it. His chest tightens, and he can’t stop the little smile that’s spreading across his face. My man. That’s his Danny. And God, if this is what it feels like to be loved by him, then Tim’s never going back.

And the thing is, Danny knows exactly what he’s doing. The way Tim lights up whenever he calls him something sweet? The soft little smile he tries to hide? Danny lives for it.

“Baby, are you okay?” Danny asks one day when Tim is just staring at him, dazed and lovestruck.

“Yeah,” Tim mumbles, his voice barely audible. “I just… like when you call me that.”

Danny grins, leaning closer. “What, baby?”

Tim nods, face bright red.

And from then on, it’s over. Tim is officially a nickname addict. Sweetheart, baby, honey, love—he eats it all up. It’s his lifeline. His kryptonite. And the best part? Danny never holds back.

[cathnospam]

CW// UA CollegeAU, Oral, Reader is a lil oblivious, Bakugo is his own warning

“Returning the Favor”

Bakugo owes you and he hates it. But you don’t know it.

He has been meaning to pay you back for months, but he simply can’t due to world literally hate him.

It all started just a few months ago when you offered your Blondie to go down on him after a mission.

He’s been more crankier than usual and when you exhausted google for answers; relaxing, taking a mental day, going to a spa, the list went on , but nothing worked.

you were left with an orgasm.

It releases stress and tension, plus it feels amazing it shouldn’t hurt right? Granted, you and your boyfriend never went as far as mutual masturbation, but when you offered he wasn’t very resistant towards it.

So you did, and even though it was your first time, he definitely didn’t think so! You gagged a few times sure, but that just added to the sexiness on you, and like Google said; it worked.

He wasn’t chipper or anything, but he was more calmer, pout still there as usual, but his eyes were more relaxed. Even when Denki kept touching at him (you assume he did it on purpose to make him mad) all he did was roll his eyes, call him sparky and walked away.

You did catch him staring at your mouth more because of this, but it was worth it seeing him be less annoyed and angry.

So here we are now 3 months later and it’s became a routine between you both; at least a couple times a week you let him come to your dorm and you ….handle him. It never goes any further than that though since neither of yall are ready to take that dive into real intimacy, but it was okay—

You don’t mind at all! Maybe you’ve developed an oral fixation, but ironically enough sucking his dick is a stress reliever for you as well. Some days you’ve just ask him if he wants to come over and you spend the evening taking care of him.

Little did you know Bakugo hates it.

He doesn’t hate you or what you’re doing to him, it drives him insane, a few days ago he got hard during a shower thinking about your pretty little moans on his dick so that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was for the past few weeks he has been wanting to express his appreciation towards you by going down on YOU, but every single time he attempts it’s always an interuption.

Jirou needs you for a problem she has, an emergency at one of the agencies you both work at, he remembers a few times he fell right asleep after cumming. It’s embarrassing!

So, Bakugo has been adding up the costs and he knows he owes you, it’s gotten to the point he feels like he is using you.

Sure he says thank you, takes you out, cleans you up, etc etc, but he wants to REALLY pay you back. The moment he moves his body to get between your thighs you both have to leave. It SUCKS. He hates OWING.

But it wasn’t just about paying you back he does think about eating you out. Embarrassingly so, in different ways too.

Maybe with a skirt on and nothing under? Bent over the bed? Sit on his face? Maybe 69? Side ways? He can’t stop thinking the different ways to eat that pretty pussy of yours.

He couldn’t take it anymore he HAS to at this point. So, once again you text him asking if he wanted to come over and of course he’s already on his way, but once you tug down his sweats he stops you.

“Baby—?—oh!”

No words needed he attacks your neck gently to distract you from how he was pushing you down on your comfy bed, “‘Suki you—“

“Just…shut up. Please. “ Luckily you were wearing just one of his shirts and a thin little thong, he kisses down and all around your tummy and thighs, indirectly teasing you, ‘Have to pay you back..”

“Pay ..me?”

He groans, knowing damn well he doesn’t wanna continue unless he asks for your permission, but wont get an answer until he answer your questions, “I been wanting to return the favor…but every fucking time I do we gatta stop and I don’t want you…to think…I don’t know that I’m using you.”

You blink, registering what he’s saying, “Katsuki you are using me.” When his eyes grew wide you started to giggle and shake your head, “Not in a bad way! You’re using me to help yourself. And I love to. I love making you feel good, it was my idea y’know…but I never did it so you can do it back to me. We’re in a relationship not a…deal.”

As much as it made sense Katsuki was just too stubborn (and hard) to accept it, “But…” you lie back, tugging off your panties and spreading your legs for him. His piercing red eyes were wide, stunned at even prettier your pussy looked last time he seen you. He swallowed hard when he noticed your lips already wet, were you playing with yourself earlier? “If you are offering you can, but I want you to do it because you want to not because I owe—-oh!”

Your boyfriend wasted no time holding open your thighs to latch his lips in your pussy. Granted he never done it before, but the weeks of looking at pussy eating videos helped him navigate where to lick and suck.

Sure. He didn’t necessarily owe you, but he sure as hell wanted you to know he loves and appreciate you all the same.

And with the way you were moaning his name, he knew he paid his debt.

[starryjake]

thoughts on (en- hyung line) a giving sloppy head or throat fucking you?

heeseung

when he’s giving head, he’s so lazy and messy with it. your pussy and your inner thighs are absolutely covered in his saliva because he just loves spitting on your cunt and licking it all up, licking you everywhere. even though it’s so wet and messy, you love it :(. your fingers are tangled in his hair, your legs shaking from how spread he has them and how sensitive you are. his eyes are closed as his tongue glides up and down your slit, occasionally moving up to your clit and sucking on it for a minute. there’s a huge wet spot on the bed after you guys are finally done. </3

when he’s getting his dick sucked, again it’s just lazy and sloppy movements on his behalf. just thrusting his hips into your throat in inconsistent, loose patterns. he watches you with hooded, dark eyes, his chest heaving. definetely praising you, telling you that you’re his good, sweet girl, and how you were made to suck his cock and his only. messy boy likes to cum all over your face, but your lips especially. rubs his tip against your lips, smearing all his cum.

jay

loves giving head because he loves seeing you feel good. he’s memorized all the parts that make you squirm whenever his tongue brushes across it. he knows you loooooove when he sucks your clit, so he’s always wrapping his pretty lips around the bud and practically making out with it. he has a firm grip on your thighs and eats your pussy with expertise, his tongue flicking and gliding and slurping until you have no choice but to cum. but he never leaves you with just one. he’ll have you sit on his face and make you cum again that way, maybe with his fingers inside you that time!

he loves a throat fuck i fear. just lives to feel your throat contracting around his cock, gagging around it because you just can’t take it. you can’t take how big he is, how you can feel his tip nudging the back of your throat. you’d look up at him with big, watery eyes and he just loses it and fucks your throat ever harder, making a complete and utter mess out of you. moaning and groaning because he loves nothing more than you, sniffling because he’s fucking your throat so hard that it’s brought you to tears </3.

jake

you guys already know my munch jake agenda. just addicted to eating your pussy, and he gets so into it that he can’t help but make a mess :(. his breath is so warm against your pussy and he’s breathing so heavy because he’s so into it. literally FORGETS to breathe because all he knows is to eat you out and none of his other functions matter. he just wants to make you squirm and to taste all your addictive sweetness on his tongue. he’ll go for hours and hours until you’re completely spent and pushing his face away from between your legs.

when he’s getting a blowjob, he’s not someone who needs his entire cock down your throat. his tip is where he’s most sensitive so all he wants is for you to suck him there <3. LOVES it if you kitten lick his tip :( teasing him a little before actually sucking on it. let’s you jerk off the rest of his length in your hand. also likes when you kiss down his shaft and move to suck his balls. OH HE’LL GO CRAZY IM SURE. he’s such a dirty boy and when he’s gonna finish, he wants to mark his territory on you, so he cums on your face <3.

sunghoon

UNNNGNGNGH. ok sorry he’s just—he thrusts his tongue in and out of your wet hole and massages it against your walls, and his nose keeps hitting your clit. loves when you grind your pussy against his face like you’re trying to rub it against his nose while he tongue fucks you. he doesn’t care. he wants to be used and he wants you to feel good, so if you want to hump your sopping wet pussy against his face then he’s there for it. literally holds your pussy to his face when you’re cumming so he can really feel it and drink up everything you have to offer.

i just know his cock is long and he expects you to be able to fit all of it in your little mouth :(. he loves for you to be on your knees, naked, looking up at him while you suck his dick. you can’t take all of it, it’s impossible! he trains you into it <3, slowly pushing his cock in inch by inch until you’re gagging too hard and you have to pull off. it takes hours and hours and he loves it. your jaw is so sore and he’s so pent up from waiting hours to cum that when he does, it’s a giant load. it’s all warm and wet and sticky and he does it all over your pretty tits and your tear stained face.

-

a/n why did i write this in like 15 mins

[solxamber]

Giving Them Chocolates on Valentine's Day with: Pomefiore

Go here for other dorms

Vil Schoenheit

The second you step into Pomefiore’s lounge, you realize Vil has been waiting for you.

He’s seated elegantly by the window, his posture perfect, a teacup balanced between his fingers. His gaze flickers up the moment you enter, sharp, knowing.

You hesitate. How does he already look so smug?

Still, you square your shoulders and walk up to him, holding out the chocolates. “These are for you,” you say, voice steady.

Vil sets his cup down with a soft clink, taking the heart-shaped box from your hands with the same effortless grace as everything else he does. He turns it in his fingers, inspecting it—not because he doubts it, but because he already knows exactly what this is.

Then, before you can even gather the nerve to confess—

“I accept,” he says simply.

You blink. “Wait—what?”

Vil raises a brow. “What? You thought you were being subtle?”

Your stomach drops.

“You’re many things, sweet potato,” he continues, setting the chocolates down beside him with care, “but subtle about your affections? Let’s not joke around.”

Oh. Oh, this smug—

Your face burns as you cross your arms. “Okay, well, maybe I was obvious, but you could’ve let me confess first.”

Vil smiles, perfectly composed, but unmistakably pleased. “If it makes you feel better, I accept that as well.”

Your breath catches.

He leans forward slightly, studying your face, and you swear you see a flicker of something soft beneath the confidence. “I like you too,” he says, quiet but firm. “That much should have been obvious.”

Your heart stumbles.

Before you can even fully process it, Vil smoothly rises from his seat, offering you his hand. “Now, come along. I’ll be taking you to dinner tonight.”

You blink at him, still slightly dazed. “You just decided that?”

Vil huffs, amused. “Of course. What, did you think I’d let my significant other spend Valentine’s eating alone?”

You narrow your eyes. “You say that like I wasn’t going to invite you first.”

He smirks. “Then we’re in agreement.”

Your heart is going through it, but you take his hand anyway, because honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Rook Hunt

You reach into your bag, expecting to pull out the chocolates you painstakingly prepared for Rook—only to find a second box already sitting inside.

Your brain short-circuits.

You definitely didn’t put that there.

You pick it up carefully, turning it over in your hands. The wrapping is elegant, the ribbon tied with impossibly perfect precision. There’s no note, no signature—but you don’t need one. It’s him. It has to be him.

Rook.

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. Of course. Of course he’d beat you to it.

But you’re not about to let him win that easily.

Finding Rook Hunt is usually a near-impossible task. Not today.

You spot him leaning against a railing, watching the scenery below, looking perfectly at ease—like he wasn’t out here committing mysterious, romantic mischief mere moments ago.

“Rook.” You approach, arms crossed, the chocolates he left you tucked under your arm.

He turns at the sound of your voice, grinning immediately. “Ah, trés bien! My beloved trickster arrives!”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the fondness creeping into your smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

Rook tilts his head innocently. “Whatever could you mean?”

You don’t humor him. Instead, you hold up the mystery chocolates, raising a brow. “You didn’t sign them.”

He sighs, dramatic as always. “Alas! It seems my affections are far too transparent.”

You huff a laugh, then finally pull out your own chocolates, thrusting them toward him. “Well, guess what? I had the same idea. Happy Valentine’s.”

For a second—just a second—you catch a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Then, his expression melts into something impossibly warm.

“Oh~” His voice lilts, delighted. He takes the chocolates from your hands with such reverence, as if you’d just handed him a priceless treasure.

“You honor me,” he murmurs, turning the box in his hands before meeting your gaze again. “And I assume, mon cœur, that this means…?”

You smile. “I accept your confession.”

For a moment, he’s silent.

Then—he beams.

And before you can react, he takes your hand, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles.

"Ah, mon amour,” he sighs, eyes glinting with pure joy. “How truly, devastatingly romantic! To think, we were of one heart even before our words were spoken.”

Your face burns. “I—Rook—”

But he’s already laughing, utterly overjoyed. “Come! Let us make this day truly one to remember. Allow me the honor of taking you on a proper outing—just the two of us.”

Your heart stumbles, but you don’t even try to fight the smile pulling at your lips.

“…Yeah. I’d like that.”

Rook grins.

And as he pulls you along—his hand firm in yours, his laughter bright—you realize you wouldn’t change this for the world.

Epel Felmier

Epel stares at the chocolates in your hands like he’s not entirely convinced this is real.

“You—” He swallows, his grip tightening slightly around the box. “Are ya givin’ this to me, or am I just holdin’ it for somebody else?”

You blink. “I’m giving them to you, Epel.”

His ears go a little pink. He glances down at the chocolates, then back at you, hesitation flickering in his eyes. “And—uh. Y’mean it like… friendly-like, or—?”

You exhale a laugh, realizing what he’s asking. “Romantic.”

Epel freezes.

For a second, he doesn’t say anything—but then his carefully practiced Pomefiore polish shatters completely.

“Holy hell,” he breathes, his accent coming through so thick that it almost makes you laugh. “Ya serious? Y’like me? Like—like fer real?”

You nod, amused and a little flustered yourself. “Yeah, Epel. For real.”

He lets out a sharp breath, like he’s been hit with a gust of wind, and then he grins.

Not his usual polite, practiced Pomefiore smile—but a real, genuine, bright-as-hell grin.

“Well, shoot,” he mutters, ducking his head for a second, clearly overwhelmed. But when he looks back up, his eyes are shining.

“I like ya too,” he admits, shy but firm. “Been likin’ ya for a while, actually.”

Your heart stumbles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His grip on the chocolates tightens slightly, like he’s grounding himself. Then, with a newfound confidence, he straightens up, chin lifted. “So, uh. You free later? I wanna take ya out proper. Y’know, for a real date.”

Your stomach flips. “You’re asking me out?”

Epel’s grin turns a little cocky now, his usual mischievous side creeping in. “Well, duh. What kinda guy would I be if I didn’t?”

You can’t help but laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. “Then yeah. I’d love to go out with you.”

Epel’s smile softens, and he nods once, firm and satisfied.

“Good,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I better start plannin’ somethin’ nice, huh?”

And as you watch him glance down at your chocolates again, his fingers running over the edges like he still can’t believe this is real, you know for sure—this was worth it.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[jjsloverre]

bsf!chris making love to you for the first time

pairing: bsf!chris x bsf!reader

in which… bsf!chris offers to make real love to after a intense conversation

contains… cursing, smut, unprotected p in v, praise kink, oral (fem!receiving) fluff, aftercare (not proofread)

__________________________________________________________

the conversation started sweet and casual. then it suddenly shifted. “i’ve honestly never made love to a girl, i just regularly fuck them.” chris explained to you. “mmm no guy has made me feel loved during sex, sorta sucks.”

“well dudes are usually ‘oh i’m gonna fuck this bitch and leave.’ that’s how most guys are, i hope i’m not like that when i try and fall in love.” chris surprisingly opens up. he doesn’t usually talk about relationships with girls, simply because; he didn’t know how to properly treat a girl. “but if a guy did that to you i’d probably kill him.” chris shrugged.

“ugh i hate boys! one day a man is gonna come into my life and make real love to me and we’re gonna have 100 babies!�� chris’ face contorted with disgust. “listen to me, whatever you do… do NOT have 100 babies! hell not even 3 cause you are NOT going to call me to take care of your semens!” you barked out a laugh. “christopher! i know you didn’t call my future kids ‘semens’!”

“that’s what they are sweetheart, little sperms that grow.” you look away in disgust. “okay! we can stop this talk now!”

“mmm no we can’t! i actually… wanted to offer to make love to you. and before you be like ‘no you don’t know how to’ i promise you, i’ll lay you down, give you all those little kisses you like, kiss your sweet spot, kiss you while i’m slowly pushing my dick inside you, and i promise to give you slow and deep strokes.”

“thank you for that detailed sex chris.” he took your hands. “i mean it, you don’t got to suck me off unless you want to, but i’ll show you how good i can eat pussy and shit, i’ll give you the best sex you’d ever have.”

“you just said you weren’t capable of that though.” he shook his head. “i’m not capable of doing that with other girls, but with you? i care about you and would kill somebody if they mistreated you or your body.” you thought about it for a bit. “fine.”

chris didn’t need to be told twice. he immediately picked you up and laid you on the bed. “gonna fuck you so good and deep, gonna be feelin me for days..” he started, he began to kiss your neck, then your lips. as he kissed you to distract your nerves, he pulled your pants and panties off. breaking from the kiss, he got you fully naked. “my best friend is so beautiful. you know that?”

you nod shyly, the blush coming to your cheeks. he takes his shirt off, then his pants, then soon the boxers. “don’t even focus on my dick, he can wait. right now though? i’m all about your pleasure.” chris took one of your nipples into his mouth, his hand coming to the other. you moaned as he played with your tits. “i’ve always wanted to suck these sexy titties for so long baby.”

not long after, chris was rubbing your clit slowly, your hips bucked wildly, begging for more. “do you want it now baby?”

“y-yes please…” you begged. he went down on you, his face mere inches away from your glistening pussy. “i’m gonna love this shit..” chris mumbled and latched his lips onto your clit while he plunged two fingers knuckles deep inside you. he sucked on your clit for a while until he replaced his fingers with his tongue.

definitely your favorite part. chris fucked you with his tongue skillfully. you moaned louder and louder until you came all over his tongue. “you taste wonderful, fuck baby.”

he sits up, looking at your fucked out face. “before we start, do you want me to nut in you or pull out?”

“do you mind pulling out? i’m not on anything and don’t want to risk it.” he nods understanding. “don’t mind at all, your body your choice my beautiful girl.”

“alright… you ready?” chris asks, hovered over you. his tip nudging at your dripping entrance. “y-yeah i am…” he nods and leans down to kiss you softly as he pushed his tip slowly inside you. “stay still— fuck you already feel amazing…” he pushes his whole length inside you, savoring every feeling of your walls clamping down on his cock.

“chris! ‘m so full!” he nod, kissing your neck while he slowly fucks you. “what else do you need to feel loved baby?” you shake your head, already on the verge of cumming. “n-nothing.. gonna cum soon chris!” he picks up his pace slightly. “i can tell, that pretty pussy’s squeezin me in real tight, you must like this dick huh?”

you could barley get your words out. all you could come up with was a short “yes.” he rested his forehead on yours, blue eyes looking deeply into your pretty brown ones. “you takin my dick so well, doin so good f’me sweetheart. go ahead and cum for me.” with those words, you came. and you came hard. your walls clamped down on chris’ cock, earning a moan out of his lips.

after a few strokes he whipped his dick back out and aimed his tip at your stomach. “fuck baby…” he stroked his cock viciously until white, pearly cum shoots out from his twitching tip, all over your stomach. “you took my dick so well, i’m so proud.”

“i did didn’t i?”

“fuck yeah you did. sit still, i’m gonna run you a bath ok?”

“yeah, thank you chris.”

“no problem.”

chris comes back a few minutes later and carries you to the bath tub and sets you down. “can we do that again sometime?” he looks down at you in pure adoration. “sure we can sweetheart.”

__________________________________________________________

taglist: @aaliyahsturniolo @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @sophand4n4 @ethanthequeefqueen @sturnioloenthousiast @babyclines @chalahyung01 @bee-43 @superlegend216