#i'm so fucking tired of all of this man i'm so fucking tempted to just go live on the street at this point

[watery-melon-baller]

Lads i have Fucked Up Big Time

[moogghost]

hi if you're noticing a theme in what i'm reblogging lately. it's because i'm fucking annoyed sorry lmao

[imprfctlyok]

good things

logan howlett x reader

Summary: You and Logan hadn't had sex in weeks, and now that you had a bit of alone time celebrating your anniversary, you figured it was time to make it up to each other.

Warnings: afab!reader, MDNI, smut w/ plot, pet names (bub, princess, doll)

Aromatic herbs and garlic wafted throughout the house as you sat on the counter watching Logan cook.

If someone had told you in the past that you'd be living with this gruff, angry man, settled down and watching him make you dinner, you would have laughed in their faces. The man in front of you was definitely not the same one you met a year ago, but keeping him company as he prepared your anniversary dinner was definitely something you could get used to.

You swirled the red wine in your glass around, studying the strain of Logan's muscles under his white wife-beater. It had been so long since you had touched him, felt the lines and ridges of his arms and chest. Work had made it difficult for you two to find...alone time. By the time either of you made it home and into bed, one of you (usually Logan) would be too tired to start anything. You didn't say anything, because you were also tired, but also because you knew how much he needed the rest. Being in such a close proximity to him now, with nothing but time on your hands...it was too tempting.

Logan turned around, a slight smile growing on his face as he leaned on the counter and picked up his glass of wine. By no means was he a wine drinker, but today was a special occasion, and so he swallowed it down if for nothing else but your own sake. "Almost done doll. Ten minutes and then we can eat."

You clicked your glass against his and downed the rest of your wine. "Cheers to that. I'm starving. Wanna..." you trailed off, sliding your empty wineglass towards him, "...fill me up?"

A mischievous glint flickered in Logan's eye, but he didn't rise to your bait. His gaze never leaving yours, he slid the bottle of wine over and poured more in your glass, leaning just far enough over the counter to give you a kiss on the forehead with a dark chuckle. "Thirsty bub?"

You took his intense staring as a challenge, leaning back in your chair and lifting your glass to your lips, sensually tipping the liquid into your mouth. "Parched."

A smile formed on his lips. Shaking his head, he turned his back towards you again, gathering the dirty cooking utensils to dump into the sink. You were 100% certain that the wine must have been making you overzealous, because your before your brain could catch up with your movements, you had slipped out of your chair and padded to the other side of the counter. Logan stiffened as your set down your glass and snaked your arms around his midsection, pressing your face into his back.

"What's this?" he asked jokingly, spinning around to face you. His strong hands immediately found your waist, gripping them firmly as he pulled you closer.

"Lo," you said, so quiet it was almost a whisper. "We've both been working, and we haven't...it been a long time since we...you know."

Hesitation crept over his face. "Bub, I—"

"Logan, please." You reached up on tippy toes, pressing small kisses into his jaw. "I've missed you."

With a show of strength that made heat pool into your stomach, Logan lifted you up and set you on the counter, nudging himself between your thighs. The breath was stolen from your lungs, and that familiar ache in your core that you had pushed down for weeks returned.

"Princess," he whispered, his breath fanning against your ear. "There is nothing more I wanna do right now than fuck you right here on this counter. It's all I've been thinking about. But you've been working hard, and I'm sure you're tired. You need rest."

He's about to pull away from you again, but before he can, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in, the buckle of his belt catching on the crotch of your jeans. He sucks in a breath and you arch into him.

Your lips ghost over his jawline, and you can't help the whimper that slips from your lips. "Please."

One, two, three seconds of hesitation before his hands are under your ass and hauling you into your shared bedroom. He drops you onto the bed, hands gripping your thighs, your hips, your tits. A gasp escapes you as he grinds into you, his hard cock hitting your clit so deliciously.

"Fuck," he groans, dropping his head against your shoulder as he rolls his hips against you. "Haven't had you in so long princess...haven't even taken your clothes off yet and you feel so damn good."

Your hands trail up his chest, down his back, as you arch yours looking for any sort of contact. Logan's fingers found the button of your jeans, making slow work of undoing them and pulling down the zipper.

"Do you know how badly I've been needing to taste you?" He slowly strips your jeans off of your silky legs, making quick work of your shirt next. "My baby, spread out all pretty like this—fuck—"

He trails a finger down your stomach, dipping the digit beneath your panties. A wanton moan slips out, your voice catching as his middle finger dipped into your folds, collecting the wetness pooled there. "Fuck, Logan—"

He pushes his finger into your mouth, effectively shutting you up as you lick and suck the taste of yourself off of him. His eyes never left yours, his gaze so dark and intense that it had your mind reeling with inappropriate thoughts. For weeks, this was all you had been wanting—him.

Pulling his finger out of your mouth with a pop, Logan slide down your body until his face was directly in front of your cunt. You gasped as the tip of his nose brushed your clit, your hips jolting forward to grind on his face, searching for any sort of contact. He laid his strong arm across your hips, caging you in and holding you down.

"Ah ah, patience doll. You've waited three weeks, what's a little longer?" He inhaled your arousal, hands gripping your thighs and prying your legs apart. You couldn't help but moan, him being so goddamn close to touching you where you need it.

"Besides," he added, pulling your panties to the side and looking up at you. "Good things come to those who wait."

a/n: AHHH MY FIRST FIC ON HERE FINALLY DONE! this is seriously a moment for me bc i haven’t written fanfiction that flowed so easy and genuinely enjoyed in a looooong time. i hope you like it!! lmk if you want a part 2?? lol

[eightstarr]

pacify — sevika.

summary: is it possible to miss a stranger, or does one thing negate the other? maybe you miss sevika because she isn't a stranger, because she stuck her claws far too deep in you and never let go— or just because she looks really fucking good sitting there, looking at you like she's waiting for you to say "hello again".

warnings: mild descriptions of violence, smut (mdni!), pre time jump sevika!

notes: my thesis with this one is that eating out a woman you love will revolutionize you in a way nothing else can and i'm joking but also dead serious. also dear god please me and who… okay bye i love you

・。.・゜✧・. ────

“You know, I’ve always liked this place the best.”

It’s the first thing you remember him saying, blue uniform to match his now slightly reddened eyes, vile alcohol in his breath. You’re at a different bar, not Vander's, the first actual job you ever had if you don't count what came before— the shiny rock of a stranger’s ring in your pocket, another’s gold coins in your bag, all from the quick trips to the city above with your father. “It’s not difficult to steal from a Piltovan,” he’d say, squinting at the engraving on the inside of a sparkly bracelet, a small bounty spread over the kitchen table, “they’re all show, all ego.”

Now watching the smirk on the Enforcer’s face after he downs his fourth glass without taking a breath, a laughable skill for an audience of no one, you find it hard to disagree with your father’s assessment. The well nurtured instinct to wonder what you’d get if you slipped your fingers inside the pockets of his tailored jacket grows loud and tempting in your head, but you shove it away and keep your eyes on the dusty floor you’re meant to sweep, determined to keep this job.

“The drinks are better than up there, I’ll give you that,” the drunk man continued, half empty fifth glass tipped dangerously towards the brooding barman, your only coworker tonight. There’s barely anyone left in the bar at all except a couple regulars. Tension has been brewing through the entirety of your shift, an argument in one of the booths during your first hour, a drink on someone’s face by the third, a wave of tired scoffs when the man in uniform walked in near the end of the night; the last nail on the coffin. In your head, you’ve listed all the possible exits you could use to escape enough times to memorize them.

The man takes a surprisingly controlled sip, thin lips furrowed in a grimace. “Wish it was enough to make up for that fucking stench.”

The air in Zaun is different to foreigners. You’ve never minded it the way they do. It's your air, the first to ever fill your lungs, the one you’re so used to that you can feel the way it shifts— the way it becomes a stench, as he called it, when blood is about to be spilt.

The barman does, to his credit, offer you the chance to leave. Or orders it, morelike, his sharp eyes meeting yours and then a tilt of his head towards the door. Maybe he pities you for the nerves splashed all over your face, or maybe he’d just find it a shame to lose an employee he hired barely a month ago. “You. Out.”

“Out?” the Piltovan repeats, turning his head, his voice grossly high pitched. “Why? What's gonna happen now?” he’s drunk enough that you notice the seconds that pass before his eyes properly focus. You remember the exact way his smirk faded, the deep-set wrinkles between his eyebrows when he recognized your face, a nauseating anger. “No. No, you don't move.”

Enforcers never go anywhere alone. Maybe the man had just remembered this, just now realized the true risk of his cockiness when it's not backed up by two or three of his colleagues. Maybe that's why he finds it easy to target you rather than the angry figures lurking in the tables behind him. Maybe that's why he draws his gun so fast.

“I know you, little thief—”

A woman approaches at the same time he does, and you don't know why exactly you decide to focus on her instead. A plea, maybe. You remember the dull gray of the brass knuckles on her fingers, the thick leather belt hung around her lower waist, the thump of her boots against the old floorboards. You've never noticed her before. How ridiculous it feels to think that she was there all night. How lovely that she could be the last thing you see. There's comfort in her being there, a morbid, sad thing that feels almost like company. At least you’re not alone in the room with the monster, at least there's someone to watch you die. 

Her hand falls on the Enforcer’s shoulder and she pushes him back with little effort, the quickest movement, almost without thought. The man stumbles (blame the well praised alcohol or Sevika’s strength), and the glass that had stayed in his hand shatters against the edge of the bar at the same time his gun fires a loose shot to the wall behind you.

Next comes a blur, a vague memory of hearing the Enforcer hiss in pain, a thread of red spilling down the open palm of his hand.

“You got somewhere to go?”

Her voice is the first and only thing that brings you back, the only sound louder than the heartbeat pounding in your ears. She sounds smooth, clear-headed, not like a woman who just stepped in the middle of the fastest paced violence you’ve ever encountered. Gray eyes move across your face, then the rest of you, and you quickly look down at yourself as if to check along with her that you’re actually unharmed.

Your lips feel awfully dry when your tongue brushes against them, enough air passing through to let you breathe, but not quite talk. You nod your head and remember in a rushed, distorted thought— somewhere to go, yes, home, now.

Sevika returns your nod, small praise, an odd way of saying something like good job. Less odd than the quiet satisfaction you feel for having earned it. She tilts her head towards the door, short black hair brushing her shoulder, her voice the kindest you’ve ever heard to this very day. Perhaps the thing you remember most. “Go on, love.”

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Years pass, deaths and joys and new odd jobs, and you still think about it. She sits at the back of your head like a softly worded reminder. And then one day, as things go, you find her again. Her making a deal at the back of The Last Drop, you behind the bar serving drinks.

There's a chance she doesn't remember it. What are the odds that she thought about you at all after the incident? You were just a stranger on a random night. It's not often that people fully understand the weight of what they did for someone, the trickle down of an action, of a kindness. There's a chance for you to go home, alone and unchanged. Instead (and not for the first time) you work for an hour longer, unpaid labor for a chance to serve her a drink.

Sevika doesn't come every night. You see her maybe once a week, talk to her maybe once a month. You don't expect tonight to be any different, but—

“You gonna watch me all night?” she mutters it into her glass, swallows the last sip before she looks at you. The are tiny wrinkles beginning to form on the corners of her eyes now, along each side of her lips from her smiles. Watching her is entrancing, the easiest thing you do, as natural as drawing a breath. “What are you still doing here?”

You blink downwards at the washed glass in your hand, continue to dry it like it could ever be half as interesting as being under her spell. “Working overtime.”

“Vander can't afford to pay you overtime,” Sevika scoffs, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk. 

You frown, maybe a little flustered. “He—”

“She's right. Why are you still here?”

The man himself stands tall to your left, glaring at this one permanently stained spot on the bar, working at it with a rag like he hasn't tried the same thing a hundred times before. There are dark shadows under his eyes, a purple hair tie on his wrist— Powder’s, if you were to guess. You’ve grown close to Vander since you met him, even closer when he hired you to work here. “‘S not a favor,” he’d said, quickly catching the suspicion on your face. “Just a gesture to him.” Turns out a lot more people knew your father than you thought; Vander isn’t old enough to have grown up with him, but they still found ways to end up at the same places. If he hadn’t been so secretive about who he was beyond the man who raised you, maybe you would’ve met Vander years ago, became friends at some bar in your teen years instead of at a diner a few days after your father’s funeral. But gaining a friend is a timeless thing, it obeys luck, not sensitivities. One day he wasn’t there, and then the next he was.

You spray some cleaning liquid over the spot on the table, roll your eyes as he leans closer to wonder at how the stain begins to slowly fade. “I’m working,” you repeat.

He looks at you from the corner of his eyes, one eyebrow raised. “I ain’t paying you.”

“I know, okay? It's fine,” you cross your arms over your chest, embarrassed to have been caught even though neither Vander nor Sevika seem to know what the real reason behind you staying late is. “It's a busy night, take it as a favor.”

“I can't afford favors.”

“Good thing they’re free, then,” you deadpan.

Sevika chuckles at the banter, forever amused at your unreserve, how simple you make things. It makes no sense to her to be that generous, that open, but it makes even less sense to think that you’d be any other way. Sevika isn’t particularly trusting, but she is loyal— the more you talk, the more watching you becomes addicting, her thing. She fixates on learning new things about you, clings to your words like a cat to its owner’s scent and wonders, over and over and over, if you remember her. From all those years ago. From last week. With you, she’d take anything.

And when she does finally see you up close, finds a good enough excuse in asking you for fire or a refill, there's little you could ask that she would say no to. It's senseless and thrilling and above all, it's true. She feels it down to her bones, painfully clear, like it's written all over her face.

“What do you do, Sevika?”

Sit and wait for you, she thinks, and instead replies, “What?”

“For work,” you clarify, your hand against the bar, leaning slightly forward. “I see you every week and I still don't know.”

You do know what she does, at least as much as anyone else does— too little to run your mouth, enough to stay away. And if you didn't know, you know her enough to be certain that she wouldn't tell you. It's a pointless question. Unless, of course, you’re as infatuated as you are.

Sevika takes another gulp of her drink, her eyes tracing over the line on your waist where the apron ties behind your back, the soft curve that the pull of it forms. She needs a smoke. “Same shit as everyone else,” she answers, and palms her pockets for a cigarette case. “What do you do? Other than this.”

“This is it,” you watch her flick open the case and shrug. You don’t sound particularly sad or frustrated, just plainly aware. “I pour drinks for people who all seem to do the same shit.”

Sevika hums, sets the case down, a click of metal against well worn wood. An unlit cigarette sits between her index and middle finger. “Be honest,” she starts, and it's the same voice that's been talking to you this whole time, but the gruffness still manages to catch you off guard. “Am I just as bad?”

You chuckle, the same addicting shimmer of genuineness in your eyes that she chases everytime you speak. “Just as bad as what?”

Her eyes follow your hands where they go to pull a lighter from the chest pocket of your apron. “The drunks that flirt with you while you do your job,” she lets the cigarette hang from her lips and leans forward.

“Hm,” you hum. The reflection of the flame sparkles in her eyes before you pull it away, orange against gray, odd and pretty. “I don't know.”

You’re not sure if she looks amused or slightly offended. It's a nice view regardless, the way her eyebrows lift and her lips curve downwards for a second before she breathes out, spilling smoke from her mouth as she talks, “You don't know.”

“I guess I didn't realize you were flirting with me.”

Sevika chuckles, a tiny half moon of a smile line on her cheek when she smirks, smugly aware of the way your eyes are looking at her. “You’re funny.”

Sevika is loyal. It would be easy to say that she doesn’t get what this feeling is, that it’s meaningless, that she doesn’t understand it— but she knows. She knows what it is even if it goes unnamed, because she’s the one deciding to keep it, stubborn and tight gripped, close to her heart. It’s in her dreams, in her first thought of the morning, in the disappointment that sours her mouth when she doesn’t find you at the bar. It’s in her stomach, tugging with need, when she looks at your face and realizes that if she asks if you wanna go home with her tonight, you will say yes.

She takes the leap. Parts her lips, names herself yours. “You wanna get out of here?”

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

You rarely pour your own drinks anymore. It’s a funny thing— Sevika doesn’t ask about your preference, which liquor is your favorite, if you’d like for her to do it for you. She figures it out like she does most things, making a study out of it, watching you enough. Maybe a little extra, too. The cork slides up with a pop!, her fingers around the neck of the bottle. The warmth of her still lingers on your thighs, your own fingers sitting restless over your lap now that her hair is not close enough to play with.

It’s been months since the first night she came home with you. You wouldn’t yet say that the newness is gone, or that you’re as quick of a student as she is, but there are things you know about Sevika already. Vivid truths, bright like the visions of her in the sunlight that you dream about sometimes. Reassurance is one of the first languages you learn from each other.

For Sevika, it's almost always about touch— you notice it immediately at the core of most of her silences, the way closeness makes her demeanor shift to something calmer, more true to herself. Slide closer to her on the couch and her arm will find itself around your shoulders immediately. Pat the empty spot next to you on the bed and she’ll let out a heavy sigh of relief, join you in sleep instead of torturing herself about tomorrow’s line of business. Part your lips when she's kissing you late at night with no goal other than to kiss you and she’ll let out a sound that vibrates through you and changes her mind on what was once an innocent gesture; she’ll tug your shirt off instead. Brush your hand over her shoulder when she's resting her head on your lap and she’ll guide it to her face instead, a lazy hold on your wrist while your thumb brushes her cheek. Coming to love her is the warmest science. But it’s not always exact.

You watch her pour you a drink at the bar table that sits in front of your bed— watch the dark hair that sits against the nape of her neck, messy and loose, watch the waistline of her pants sitting low on her waist, watch the bareness of her back. If there’s a reason why you decide to say it now, you don’t yet realize it. The words just spill out of you before you have a chance to stop them. “I remember you, you know."

Sevika’s hand hovers over the whiskey glass before she hums, resuming the movement and bringing it to her lips. "You didn't say."

“You didn’t ask,” you rest your back against the bed frame, watch her carefully.

The air sits still and you see her shoulders lift, muscles shifting as she shrugs, a big gulp of golden liquor sliding down her throat. Her voice comes in a mutter, low and almost shy, "Thought I might scare you off.”

The idea is so ridiculous that it's almost laughable. A startled chuckle dies in your chest and leaves room for aching sadness, your back leaving the frame as you lean forward and pray for her to turn around. "He was going to shoot me. Nobody moved a finger but you, Sev," you shake your head, try to manage your expression from saying too much, from confessing to something that’s been inside of you for years. At the tip of your tongue sits a raw desperation for this exact unraveling, for her. "How could you scare me?"

Another moment passes before Sevika turns to face you, lower back against the edge of the table, holding her drink down by her side. She won't look at your eyes— can't, maybe. You wonder if she's considering leaving, if she's already decided that she will, as soon as this is over. A part of you, small but dramatic and loudly pessimistic, is surprised that she’s entertained you this long. Even more surprised when she asks, "Is that what this is?" a turn of her head and the gray in her eyes finds you in a second, mechanical and unforgiving, the snap of a bear trap. You don't think you could look away if you tried. "Are you here because you think you owe me something?"

Your reaction is something close to a flinch, your frown deepening, feet firm on the floor instantly. "You can't seriously think that."

Sevika feels the regret come instantly. It splatters on her face, the pads of her fingers rough when they're brushed over her cheek to wipe herself clean of it like she does blood, gunpowder, fear. She watches out of the corner of her eye the way you part your pretty lips and can hear it in her head, imagine it so clearly, you asking her to leave. 

She's already reaching for her coat to make quick work of obeying your wishes when, instead of that, you ask, "You wanna know why I’m here?"

Sevika lowers her hand and the glass hits the table with a thud. Her head tilts to make the slightest nod— and that's as much of an answer as you'll get, you think.

“Look at me,” your finger sits under her chin, a touch barely there, the rise of her head more her choice than your doing. “You’re good, Sevika,” she grimaces, feels like she's swimming in gross viscous shame older than herself and barely surviving it. You press your thumb into her cheek, firm but kind, and keep her from being swept away by it. If she used to find your openness sweet, right now she finds it fucking miraculous. How can you call her good and mean it, how can someone else know so deeply that she could be, that she will be, when most days she doesn’t even know it herself? How can she look you in the eyes and deny you that truth? Her face relaxes, grimace replaced by an aching need as she listens to you. “I see it better than most, but they all catch up eventually. Whatever you put your mind to, you’re fucking good at it,” you pause, try to read her expression and find yourself unsure, but calm. How lovely to think that there's still so much to learn. “You don't owe me and I’m not trying to change you… you don't need—”

Sevika rests her hand over your cheek, a warm hum from her throat to acknowledge what you're saying, a desperate shake of her head to say but I do. “I need you,” her forehead falls against your own, in her brain a chant of please.

You look at her through your lashes, nod your head and feel warm, warm, warm. Her hand guides your face closer, a needy pull of her fingers where they press against the back of your neck, your whisper of “me too” spilled into her mouth. Sevika kisses like there's nothing in the whole fucking world she’d rather be doing, nothing that could possibly distract her. She has kissed you in nightclub bathrooms even with someone's knocks shaking the flimsy door, in alleys with her knuckles still bloody from a fight, dangerously close to opening hours with your back against the very bar where she rests her drinks every night. She's hungry, insatiable, and every time you can't wait to part your lips and let her in.

It takes godlike strength to hold on for as long as you do, but there's power in making her wait too, a satisfaction that feels drunk and just as divine as it makes its way down your spine. A few more chaste kisses take seconds or a century, and Sevika indulges them for as long as she can before she breaks, falls to her knees at your altar and breathes, “Please.”

There's nothing you like more than hearing her beg, except maybe what happens after you give in— the relief, the sigh against your mouth, the wet warmth of her tongue and the desperation in the way she pushes her body against you like she hadn't til then realized just how famished she’d been. Her hands wrap around your waist meanly, pressing indents, and you're too busy soothing your own hunger on her lips to realize that she's switched your positions.

You feel the harshness of the table against your back and pull away to look down, catch up, your daze maybe a little too obvious judging by the curl of her mouth. She's panting as much as you are, though, tongue peeking out barely to brush over her lips, tingly and wet from your kisses. “Up,” she says with a tilt of her head, more a warning than a command, her hands already down on your hips to get you sitting over the wood.

Sevika is a sight, pretty and inviting and overwhelming— you reach for her waist and pull, entranced by the way she follows, the way your legs interlock. A thin layer of sweat glimmers over her chest and you've never found so much beauty in the undercity’s humidity, never felt yourself get wet as easily as she makes it, never been so desperate to find some relief from the aching between your legs. Your thighs squeeze into Sevika’s and looking up to meet her eyes feels like a punch, like the sweetest blood, a sea of glazed-over gray barely visible against the black of her pupils. A mirror of your wanting; how the hunger grows when it meets reciprocation this delicious. You lean forward to taste it from her lips and she meets you halfway, a hand traveling up your spine and ending at your neck.

You don't know when you started grinding against her, but you know you want more. And you know Sevika’s holding back, savoring the same power you’d tried before, a smirk against your lips when she feels you speed up, hears you moan from somewhere deep in your throat. It suits her, the way she holds control. Sevika likes to wonder if she’d ever hold on longer, make you really wait. Sometimes she thinks she might, and then (like now) your voice fills her ears and clouds every thought that says anything other than please, god, fuck, let me make you feel good. “Don’t be mean,” you say this time, breathy and achingly sweet. “Please, Sevika.”

The first grind of her thigh against your pussy makes you end a kiss with your teeth biting into the meat of her lower lip, rougher than you intended. “Fuck, Sev—” you say, cut yourself off with a gasp when she does it again. Sevika figures out the angle unsurprisingly quickly, a hand on your hip and another on your ass to guide you back and forth at a rhythm that matches the movement of her own hips, enough fervency behind it that you know she needed this as much as you did. Maybe more, judging by the groans she spills on your neck every time you press up into her.

Full lips kiss at your pulse, open mouthed, her breath cool against your skin when it meets the wetness she left there. Your nails rake over her shoulder, over her scalp where your fingers are buried in between strands of dark hair— and when Sevika groans it sounds raw, a broken noise, her hips moving desperately faster. You can feel her warmth on your thigh and you've never wanted so badly to have her undressed, laid out, rubbing her pussy against you, leaving a mess on skin rather than the fabric of your pants. She's getting carried away, you know it, chasing her high and barely giving you a chance to catch up. You've never wanted anything more than to let her use you.

“You feel so fucking good,” she grunts, wrecked with need for you to pacify when she lifts her head from your neck, her eyebrows furrowed. You watch her get lost on your lips and you can imagine what they look like, how plump she left them, how the pride of that must simmer in her lower abdomen. Her thumb brushes over them once, then again, and you barely register that she's asking for permission before your mouth moves on its own accord to let her index and middle finger inside. It's filling, just what you needed; how beautifully unsurprising that she knew it more than you did, or that she needed it just the same.

You're fully caged in now, your back pressed against the wall, Sevika’s free hand on your waist still steering you back and forth on her thigh. “Too— hm, fuck,” her fingers slide out of your mouth and press wet indents into your cheek as she holds your jaw, traps you in her eyes. She’s far too gone to warn you but she doesn't have to, it's so painfully clear. Her eyes two dark pits to swallow you whole, lips parted, the grinding brutal and so fucking good— she says it until she can't form the words anymore, her head tilted back, thighs stuttering and tightening around your leg as she comes.

Your tongue tastes the skin of her bared neck and you feel yourself get closer and closer, fed by the feeling of her nipple under the pad of your thumb, by the shaking moans she spills into your ears as you keep grinding against her. Sevika must feel it too, in the same way you did, notice the change in your breath or the speed of your hips— because she pulls away and knows to soothe the needy desperation on your face with a messy kiss before she gets down on her knees.

“Shh,” her shushing comes soft and agonizingly kind, your whines barely contained as she presses kisses to the inside of your thighs. “What happened to my patient girl?” she asks, a tilt of her head and a smirk, the meanest angel.

Your palms press onto the table to lift yourself up enough to let her slide your pants and underwear off in one motion. “Spoiled me too much,” you answer, your mind foggy, drunk on the sight of her kneeling in front of you.

It takes Sevika a moment to reply, the pads of her finger pressing into your thighs. Her eyes meet yours and she wants to tell you, how could I not? You’re not trying to change her, you’d said, but you do. These days, she doesn't think about anything else like she used to— I love you prefaces everything. I love you, so I’m winning this stupid fight and making some money. I love you, so I gotta get home alive. I love you, so I think we could change this city. I love you, you should have every-fucking-thing. But Sevika's not really a woman of many words, especially not when you're looking at her like this, especially not when she's this hungry, so she shrugs her shoulders and says (like it explains everything, and maybe it does), "Look at you.”

The intensity of her makes your legs squeeze together, but you barely make it an inch before she’s pulling them apart and hooking them over her shoulders exactly how she likes.

Your face feels like it's burning, heat crawling up your neck, your grip on the table tight. “Please.”

Sevika barely manages to pry her eyes away from where you're open and glimmering, soaking her fingers after just one brush of them against your lips. Her voice comes out strained, drowned in hunger. “Please what?” 

You must sound worse, but the thought barely registers, hardly matters. “Please, Sevika, make me come.”

And she does— pretty nose bumping perfectly against your clit whenever her tongue is too busy inside you, her lips shiny and wet and relentless. Like everything else, she's fucking good at it.

[youryanderedaddy]

Tw: female reader, obsessive thoughts, nsfw, dub - con (reader is intoxicated), hinted stealthing

I'm thinking about a sweet, shy boyfriend who slowly but surely grows insecure, paranoid and jealous.

At first he's everything you've ever wanted - you're his first girlfriend and he does everything in his power to make you feel loved and appreciated.

As time passes, this doesn't change - he's still treating you like a goddess. But you are both different people now. You mature and you change, you blossom into a more radiant version of yourself. You finally get your dream job. As you gain more experience and wisdom, you begin to realize you want more from life than the small provincial town you've spent your whole life in.

In the beginning he supports you fully - he wants to see you happy after all. But then you start coming home later and later, looking more tired than the day before. Your friend circle broadens, and you spend more and more time outside of your shared home. Before the man knows it, it's Friday evening again and he's passively staring at you while you fix your makeup and adjust the tight dress (his favourite), ready to go to yet another networking event - for the third time this week.

You kiss his cheek, telling him not to wait up, just like that - no sweet words, no reasurrings or tempting promises, nothing he can cling onto in the darkness of your empty bedroom. Your perfume still lingers in the heavy air, making him light - headed. He can't stand it anymore - he buries his face in your pillow, savoring your smell, then he wraps the soft plush around his throbbing length and just thrusts, pathetic broken moans muffled by his own hand. He thinks about your smile and your eyes and the way you say his name and--

Fuck, now your pillow is all dirty again. Your boyfriend can't remember the last time he got to touch you directly. Recently you're always too tired or stressed out when you come back home, and though he's been respectful of your wishes, he's just so pent up at this point - all his dreams consist of you in compromising positions covered in silk and lace and nothing else. Just thinking about it gets him hard all over again.

So this night when you come home drunk and needy, climbing over his lap, he doesn't bulge - doesn't push you off. He doesn't like your new life - having to share you with all those people who don't deserve you, having to stay aside and watch as you give yourself away to people who couldn't care less. He's the one who cares about you so much he's going crazy every second you're apart. He's your real family, he's the only one that should matter to you.

And that night as he fucks you raw for the first time in forever, his cock stretching your velvety walls beyond reason, your blissed out moans and cute little cries tell him exactly what he wants to hear. You're finally letting go, finally allowing yourself to feel safe and protected in his arms. This is your home, this is where you belong. Your body is calling out to him to take control - and he intends to do just that.

[alley-cc]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Plus size reader

Note: F!Reader, 18+ MDNI

After an unnecessarily long three months in the middle of fucking nowhere, Simon is just itching to get home. Back to his flat in Manchester. Back to solitude for five blissful weeks. But, before that he has to survive the trip home. Survive sitting in the airport with wailing children and disgruntled civilians. They're all in the same boat here. All tired, hungry and just want to get to their destination.

God, he needs a stiff drink.

People shuffle around him, finding their seats to wait in until the plane arrives. He's tempted to cash in a favour with Nik, it would probably get him home quicker.

He feels the eyes of a curious child two rows behind him burning into the back of his head. He hears the stressed voice of a mother fussing over her newborn baby seven seats across from him. He smells the pungent perfume that the elderly woman in front of him is wearing. To top it all off, the seat he'd found himself a home in would rival the rough terrain he had been sleeping on for the entirety of his mission.

Then you come along. A soft sweet-looking girl. Your hands clutching tightly onto the duffle bag strung across your shoulder. He watches your eyes dart around the waiting area, landing on the free seat beside him. Your teeth anxiously bite at your lip as you venture over to it. Shy thing, you are. Soft apologies fall from your lips whenever your body brushes against a fellow passenger.

You finally make eye contact with him. "Sorry, is this seat occupied?" you ask tentatively. Simon lets out a grunt in response causing your eyes to widen. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't see a bag....I didn't mean to assume....I'll find another spot....I..." the words from your lips sounding as sweet as honey.

"Sit." He orders. Your mouth snaps shut and cheeks blush a bashful red. You place your bag down on the floor, your blouse dipping down with your body. It gives him a front-seat view of your tits which sit so prettily in the black lace bra that holds them.

If he were a lesser man, he'd have reached out and felt them. You'd like that, he tells himself. You'd like the way he'd sit you on his lap, hands trailing the curves and valleys of your beautiful body. Letting you grind down against him with your full weight. Desperate girl. His lips sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck. He'd mark you up so you'd remember him for far longer than it would take for those marks to fade.

You manage to seat yourself into the small pokey chair. Good girl. Obedient girl. Thighs that he'd kill to sink his hands into are flush against his own. You wrap your arms around your stomach in an attempt to make yourself smaller. The words take up all the space you need sweetheart bounce around in his head but never make it out. Your ankles cross to hold your legs together. He'll have to teach you to keep them apart for him.

You offer him a smile, another thing he'd kill for. "Headed home?" You ask. Simon grunts in response causing a small frown to tug on your lips as you shift into a more comfortable position. "I just moved to Manchester. I think it's pretty." You tell him. Not as pretty as you'd look under me, on top of me, on your knees for me.

Silence settles between the two of you, from his peripheral he notices the way your fingers fidget. "Where are you sitting on the plane?" you pipe up. "23B" Simon huffs. "Oh, we're neighbours," you note with a quiet laugh.

Just his luck.

He wonders if you've got all your essentials tucked away in that duffle bag of yours. Because when the plane lands, you won't be headed back to your new place. You'll be headed to his.

_________________________________________________________

Hi, hello, hey!

Brain went blank and spat this out. I've been seeing a few like sitting next to Price or Ghost on an airplane artworks and I love love love. I'm unapologetically down bad for those silly little video game characters. Anyway, Stay hydrated and stay slay. Mwah x

[kkuzushi]

Aftercare scaramouche after that intense love making and then date? :00

..... And the "will you marry me" HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH— yes fluff yeseyssyeysyeyysysyeysjdutnd thank you for taking this :3

-🎐 anon

“ 𝗚𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆..𝗶𝗻 𝗕𝗲𝗱 ”

✦ characters: scaramouche x gn!reader

✦ cw: aftercare, fluff, rivals to lovers type of stuff, reader without cat allergies (I’m sorry TT)

✦ word count: 1.824k

✦ notes: My dearest 🎐anon is back with the banger requests. This was really fun to write (I finished at 3am) though I improvised on the “will you marry me” part since I wasn’t sure what you meant. <3

Part 1 | ✦ Part 2

Hours had passed since your productive activity with Scaramouche—the man had practically fallen asleep after cleaning up the mess with you. He’d go to his room as soon as the both of you are done, he said; He just needs to rest his legs for a moment, he said. Now you have the man laid on your bed, head resting on your lap while you occupied yourself with your studies yet again.

Thankfully, the sleepy brat did have some spare notes in his room and lended it to you, saying he just ‘owed you one’. You dared not to waste this opportunity, and luckily enough, his notes were actually pretty neat. It was easy to understand and precise with the topic.

And strangely enough, this moment is as serene as it could get. It’s been a while since you’ve felt at peace with Scaramouche in the same room. His hair sways gently in the breeze from the fan, framing his tired face. If it were before, you’d be tempted to slap him and ruin his sleep, but now, you simply adore how relaxing it is to be with him.

Your lips curled to a smile before turning to a flat line—You can’t think about Scaramouche like that! He’s still an infuriating prick; arrogant, immature, annoying.. and maybe a tiny bit tolerable when getting fucked—what?

Speaking of the devil, the man on your lap starts to stir awake, grumbling as his eyes open and adjusts to the light of your room. With that familiar scowl, he lifts his head up and sees your gaze fixated on the notes he had given you.

“You're still going at it, huh?” Scaramouche prompts with a groggy tone. He rubbed his eyes with his palm, trying to remember what happened right before he passed out, “How long have I been out..?”

“Just a few.. hours.”

“Hours?”

“Hours.”

“Ugh, I'm so tired.. and my ass hurts,” He complained, nuzzling your legs more though you didn’t point it out knowing it’ll just explode his stubborn head. “This is all your fault.”

“Oh?” You looked down, seeing him scowling at you, “Says the one who was moaning like a bitch in he–”

“I WAS NOT.” Scaramouche quickly interrupted your rebuttal, his face reddening quickly. “I was making perfectly normal sounds when making love to you.”

That almost made you laugh. “Make love? You have a funny way of saying sex,” You grinned, your gaze going back to your notes.

“It’s the same thing,” He rolled his eyes before adding an explanation, “Making love is just a better term, sex is too casual, fucking is too forward.” It was such an old-school term, you can’t believe it was coming from someone like him.

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” You commented, browsing through the notes absentmindedly, “Should I be flattered? Or maybe you’re trying to impress me.”

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow and turned his head towards you from your lap. “Impress you? Pshh, that’s rich coming from someone who needed my notes to pass the same classes as me.”

Your eyes narrowed down to his expression, “Mind you that you were the one who also tore my notes apart.”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “Whatever, my point still stands.”

The moment drops to silence—Scaramouche’s sarcastic comments were duller then usual, not irritating you to the point you’re both at each other’s throats. Maybe this ‘making love’ thing was getting to you too. Damn this man for being so confusing sometimes.

To surprise yourself even more, your hand travels to his head, stroking his hair that’s been messed up during his nap. He tensed a little before reluctantly leaning to your touch, the way his shoulder slumped was a telltale sign that this is comforting for him as well.

The thought slipped in before you could stop it—Maybe he wasn’t so bad. Maybe you could try something… more.

“Hey,” Scaramouche started, clearing his throat before continuing, though it sounded more like he was contemplating. “Since we... made love,” he added, his voice growing quieter, the pink in his cheeks deepening. “Maybe we should, I don’t know… do something. Together. Tomorrow.”

You paused, “Are you.. asking me out on a date?”

“Don’t make it weird!” He quickly snapped, getting out of your lap as if to get serious, “It just.. wouldn’t feel right to act like nothing happened.. after all we did tonight.”

That was weirdly sweet—Scaramouche not wanting things to be casual after ‘making love’? Maybe he really isn’t so bad after all.

“I suppose I can make time for you tomorrow..” You hummed, attempting to look indifferent though you can feel a smile trying to appear in the corner of your lips.

“Here we are..” Scaramouche says in front of a cat cafe-library. The fact he was the one to lead you here means he goes here often. Cute. And honestly? It wasn’t a bad choice for a first date.

“I didn’t know this was near our university,” You commented as you pushed the door open, the soft jingle of the bell above ringing inside as the both of you entered. “You must be here quite often, huh?”

“Of course not,” Scaramouche scoffed, “I just figured you might like it here.” As soon as he gets beside you inside, a gray Scottish fold cat trotted over to him, nuzzling his legs as it meowed in an affectionate tone.

With a raised eyebrow, you smirked at the sight. “You don’t have to lie. No judgment if this is your go-to for weekends.” You teased, successfully flustering Scaramouche with the accusation. Then again, it’s not really an accusation if it’s true, right?

“I told you—it isn’t!” He grumbled, quickly shooing away the cat, the failed attempt only getting the cute creature to follow him as the both of you get to a comfortable corner—which, again, would be a telltale sign that he’s been here a lot.

“I bet the majority of the books here have your name signed on them already,” You continued, leaning back on the chair with a smug grin.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes at you, his fingers drumming lightly on the menu over the desk. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

Your grin widens as the same cat from earlier leaps on to his lap, the man instinctively scratching the pet behind its ears, “So you’re saying I’m wrong?”

“Of course you’re wrong,” Scaramouche replies with half of his attention, eyes glued to the cat, “I don’t sign every book I read, just the ones that are worth my time.”

Before you could retort with another teasing remark, Scaramouche calls for a waiter to take your orders. You simply chose the first thing you saw on the menu, while Scaramouche ordered his ‘usual’. He's really not pretending anymore, is he?

The waiter leaves as you both place your orders, the two of you engaged in a moment filled with purrs and meows. You watched him continue petting the cat, fingers scratching behind the ears or just brushing the fur from its body. His gaze meets yours, the scrutiny making him flustered quickly.

“I know what you’re thinking—and don’t flatter yourself just because you can see this side of me,” He mumbled, “Just call it damage control.”

“Damage control? Since when did you care about what I think?” You mused with a teasing tone yet with softened expression.

Scaramouche froze for a moment, his hand stilling on the cat’s fur. “I don’t.. but I do care about what would happen after last night.” The admission came out easily, so easy that even Scaramouche was surprised he could confess that to you.

“I see..” You nodded. The waiter came back with only Scaramouche’s drink—his drink being most likely prioritized since he’s a usual customer. Other than that, his drink was just black coffee. You almost forgot the same man you’re talking to isn’t fond of sweets. Once the waiter left, you continued your discussion with him.

“Then what would you want to happen after last night?”

“I’m.. not sure. I just know I don’t want things to be casual afterwards.”

Scaramouche took a sip of his coffee, the tension between you two was increasing and he doesn’t entirely dislike it. “What I’m saying is that it wouldn’t feel right to brush things off after making love with each other.”

You almost envied that he had something to drink while talking about this, it felt awkward to just sit there and take his point all in.

“You really are full of surprises,” You finally replied, resting your cheek on your palm as you leaned forward to the table. “What else should I know about you?”

He looks at you, considering whether your question was rhetorical or not. “I’m a date-to-marry kind of person.” Well that much wasn’t surprising, but it gave you another opportunity to tease him.

“Really? Are you saying you want to get married to me then?” Your familiar grin shows up on your lips again, the tension easing up as you watch Scaramouche gradually get flustered over your joke.

The man quickly snapped at your jest, “Don’t be ridiculous! That’s not–” His voice trails off, clearly too embarrassed to continue his rebuttal. “You’re impossible to have a proper conversation with.” He mumbled at the end.

It really seemed like you’re seeing a different side of your roommate, a side you didn’t think existed—especially not from a man that was either always frustrated or frustrating.

You burst into laughter, both from how adorable and hilarious his reaction is. “I’m kidding,” You say with a wide grin, “But I’d make a great spouse, wouldn’t I?”

“Gods forbid you to be self-aware.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Scaramouche didn’t get to reply once the waiter had finally, finally, arrived with your order. As you took the moment to savor what you’ve gotten, the man in front of you smiled—not from just the sight of you enjoying your food, but most likely from your joke as well.

When your eyes returned to him, Scaramouche was already focused on the cat in his lap again. It made you wonder—if he liked the cat so much, why not adopt it? The cat seemed to like him just fine, after all.

Your eyes shifted around the place, seeing multiple cats lounging or playing with other customers. “Are cat adoptions allowed in this place?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

Your question makes him pause for a moment before looking around for a paper that might indicate a solid answer. “I think so, why?”

You shrugged. “If you like that cat so much, we should adopt it.” The words lingered in Scaramouche’s mind. The fact that you said ‘we’ instead of ‘you’; It was a subtle shift, but enough to make the butterflies he’d been trying to drown with black coffee start fluttering again.

Scaramouche then cleared his throat, “So about our marriage..”

[livelaughlovesubs]

guess who's back, back again, it's 🃏 anon back at it again!

so. Sampo Koski (i'm fully inclined to say his full ass name because why not, it's hilarious) recently i had a big craving for his bratty little ass, so i was thinking, maybe reader (gn or otherwise) getting way too tired of his quips and just... fucking him roughly, rough sex, bondage (or any form of BDSM), some (or a lot of) manhandling and a teensy bit of a blood (either from clawing or biting can work!) can work really well!

but honestly, go wild i don’t really mind whatsoever, i’m swamped with work right now and i just need to satisfy my needs from them lolol.

so, again, have fun with this request!

from, le 🃏 anon!

Hello hello~! Great to see you again. After two whole months, I hope you aren’t that swamped with work anymore? Haha

Dom!reader x sub!sampo - reader is gn

Warning: bondage, pegging (I use dick), rough sex, slapping, manhandling, chocking, scratching, mention of death, hair pulling, edging

It was a mistake to trust him.

Seriously, this man is wanted by the guards and owns the infamous image of a liar, how could you believe in his words? Maybe they were just too sweet, too tempting and irresistible. Even so, it doesn’t justify how stupid you were to trust him. That sweet yet two faced smile, it made you blind. I mean- how dared he scam you with low quality ropes?!

All you wanted was to buy some nice, pretty ropes, and he even gave you a discount. Then he talked big about how well he threats his customers, and that he’d personally bring it to your house. Though the moment you glanced at the item, seeing the rough texture and poor handicraft, your jaw dropped. No wonder the price was so damn cheap, this guy tried to rip you off! Who did he take you for? This won’t do, you wasn’t someone easy who’d let it slide after him apologising. You’ve been so excited to receive it after all, that’s why you had to teach him a lesson.

You grabbed him by his arm and dragged him inside, throwing him onto the ground. The rope slipped from his hands, landing next to him. A cold look in your eyes and you kicked his sides, telling him to get onto the bed. He eventually obliged, then you began stripping his clothes. Sampo let you do it with a sheepish smile and dropping eyes, chuckling satisfied. That lewd little fox just loved it when you are rough with him, when you push him around and put him in his place. Now his face was being pushed into a fluffy pillow while his ass was high in the air, kneeling basically. Wrists near his ankle as you brought the red rope closer to him, straightening it out then whispering, “hold still.”

With a swift move, you tightened the knot around his wrist, pulling with all your strength. He groaned a little and bawled his hands into fists, fully aware that there will be bruises on the next day. “Most esteemed customer~ why… are you testing your product on me?” His voice got higher towards the end, a sense of excitement hidden under the surface. “Hah, come on, we are more than just merchant and buyer.” You reminded him while giving his bare butt a harsh slap, leaving behind a red mark. “Nghh~! Ahaha! Oh y/n, you are as fascinating as ever.”

That’s right, you two have shared some intimacy before and despite the relationship you both had he still tried to scam you. “Save your flattery for later. Now, tell me, does this feel like quality ropes?” You asked him with a scorn, in the meantime opening the lit of a bottle. The tall male had a rather sarcastic expression, acting like he didn’t know. Though the answer was as clear as day. He could feel it rub against his flesh, irritating and burning his skin. It had an itchy feeling to it, yet it also hurt, causing the area around it to turn red.

A faint blush covered the cheeks of the boy. His breathing was heavy and ragged, sweat forming on his forehead. Then you grabbed his roots and yanked on his hair, making him arch his back into a crescent shape, mumbling, “answer me.” The rather rough treatment was immediately met with a loud moan, “uhhH-nNNGhhh~! Ah, be gentle, y/n..” finally he looked at you, mouth parted and tongue hanging out a little. His face also reddened by a few shades, the corners of his lips were curled into a grin.

“I take it you know what this means for you?” You sighed and asked him, squeezing a large amount of lube onto your inner palm. He acted like he didn’t know, staying quiet and making a -hmm?- sound. So you continued with, “your punishment, for deceiving me.” Then you stuck two fingers inside his hole, fingering him sloppily. “Punish.. ment? Ah-ngHhhh..! To-too rough~♡” Sampo threw his head back, his blue-white hair bouncing around. “Yes, punishment for bad boys.”

Seeing how he shuddered and shook, you deemed him prepared enough and pulled your fingers out. Afterwards you lined the tip of your length to his hole, followed by you dropping the bottle onto the ground and grabbing his waist with both hands. Holding him, making him stick his ass out some more. “Mhmm~ ha, haah… don’t hold back now, dear customer.” His breathing became even more ragged, he was obviously enjoying this. “What a fucking whore.” You chuckled, giving his bottom another squeeze, spreading his hole with two fingers before penetrating him.

You slowly pushed the tip in, noticing how his shoulders jerked upwards, the oh so familiar grin returned to his wet lips. Since he was taking this so well, you might as well speeding up the process. With one snap of your hip, you pushed the rest of it inside him, your pelvis hitting his ass. “NgGGHhh~!! Ah- f-fuck, so good, more, ha- mHm, do me harder ♡♥︎!” Sampo cried out, hands wrapped around his own ankle, grip tightening with all his might. He wanted to trash around so bad, though the restrains weren’t bulging in the slightest. Keeping him in check, unmoving and restricted.

Without wasting much time, you began moving, thrusting your dick in and out of him at a fast pace. “AhHh!” He moaned at the sensation, at you rubbing against his walls and hitting places so deep inside him that it made him see stars. Then you leaned closer to him, grabbing his hair again as you whispered into his ear, “You said harder? Let’s see if you can take it then.” After that you licked his earlobe, running your tongue all over the shell while moving your hips ruthlessly. “NGhhh! Y/nnn~! Ah, t-touch me more!” He whimpered, wanting you to show some attention to his leaking member, but you ignored him.

Instead, you opened your mouth and bit his shoulder, trying to raise the speed even more. The hand on his hip gripped him harsh enough to leave bruises, the other one accidentally ripped off some strains of hair from his scalp. You bit down even more when his voice hitched, enough to draw out some fresh drops of blood. At this point he was a withering mess, crying with such a dumb yet blissful expression on his face, his blush spread to his shoulders as well. “OoOhhhH, AHHnnHgg fuuuck!! There, r-right there, so good, fuck me more, more!!” A series of unintelligible words left him, echoing through the lust-ridden room.

The pain he felt from your rough treatment, from the newly gotten bruises and wounds all faded away the moment you found his sweet spot. Not only that, you’ve been abusing that poor area with such brutality he felt like he was gonna die. Each time the tip pressed and hammered against that spot, his head would empty themselves and more tears would fell from his eyes. Drool was hanging out of his mouth as you relentlessly pounded into him, panting and doing your best to keep the tempo up.

“Hah… this is hardly a punishment for you, isn’t it?” You scoffed under your breath, feeling a little bothered by it. That’s why you slapped and scratched his butt again, cursing out, “look at what a fucking pervert you are, Sampo koski.” After drawing some blood with your nails, you insulted him, smirking sadistic. His face was quite a sight to behold, so chaotic and blushy, so damn adorable. “UhHHmm!~♡♥︎ GuUughhh!!” All he did was whimpering and moaning like some dog in heat, struggling against his restrains while his cock leaked his filthy pre onto the bed. With all the remaining strength he had, he meekly trust his hips back against you, trying to get you to go even further.

Then you stopped, very abruptly. “Ah-ahhh..?” A confused squeak escaped him. Hands still holding his hips while he sobbed into the pillow, but you didn’t move at all. “Shall I just leave you like this? Considering you aren’t seeing this as a punishment.” You asked yourself, though talked loud enough for him to hear, you wanted him to know. “uhhh- huuu~?? N-no! Don’t stop y-yet!” His voice was rough and hoarse from his screaming his lungs out. That man really has no shame considering how loud his volume was the entire time.

He turned his head back, trying to look at you. And when he did, a shiver ran down his spine, almost enough to push him over the edge. You were smiling with your eyes, a dangerous look, one that told him to run away r he’d regret it. But, to him, he was already too deep in this mess to escape. This was going to be a long night for him, and he knew since the beginning. “You wanna cum, Sampo?” You began, leaning down to his level again. By doing so you pushed your dick a little deeper in and he whined at the friction. The male didn’t respond with words, he only nodded his head hesitantly, meekly. A sense of fear and pleasure bubbling inside him. How he loved to feel like nothing next to you.

Next thing he knew you clasped one hand over his eyes and wrapped the other one around his throat, squeezing him, about it choke him. “Be a good boy and endure it. If I’m satisfied, I’ll let you cum.”

His heart pounded against his chest, he felt lightheaded. All the ecstasy and anticipation was making him dizzy with lust. He didn’t even have to think twice before groaning with a low voice, “yes, please, toy with me. Kill me with your love♡”

[bladesprettywhore]

「 DAZAI OSAMU 」 — " you're so pretty " !

⟡ . prompt : dom! dazai x sub! reader

⟡ . warnings : reader has a female autonomy, fluff to smut? , dazai gets super worked up and is a sadist, degrading + praise, spitting, hairpulling, choking, dacriphyllia, gagging, edging, overstimulation, use of bandages, a little dark.

⟡ . before you read : minors and ageless blogs dni.

it had been a tiring day at work for both you and dazai at the agency. currently, both of you were walking to the agency dorms together hand in hand. upon arriving right infront of the familiar abandoned sight which was home to the both of you, a sigh escaped your lips , dazai looked down at you before a smile appeared on his lips, "tiring day huh? I can understand..kunikida was so mean at work today!" the words left his mouth with a dramatic tone as you just palmed your forehead lightly with a soft smile on your face.

"can we go inside now? your monologue can wait until you're alone you know" you said nudging his arm in a teasing manner. he just pouted and dramatically put his hand over his heart "ah belladonna! what a cold hearted woman you are!". you just chuckled at his silliness and walked into your shared room before flopping yourself onto the mattress in the middle of the tatami mats. it was a little messy in the room as you and dazai didn't clean up before leaving.

you yawned a bit as you felt a pair of familiar hands wrap around you from behind, and pressing their body against yours. "you tired? today was rough huh..." dazai spoke in a calm and relaxed tone as he put one of his legs over yours. you chuckled a bit, as you ranted on about all the events that took place that very day "uh huh...I had a hard time figuring out the case assigned to me today but fortunately ranpo-san was nearby so I was in luck and to add on...." you told him more details about your day but he wasn't even listening.

the leg which was over yours was now kneeing you right at your covered womanhood. your talking was interrupted as you realised what was happening at that very moment, as dazai's hands travelled up to hold your tits, his fingers teasing your clothed nipples until they started getting hard and perky. "w-wait! dazai— nghh!"

"I apologize for the man I'm about to become bella, you're just so breathtaking, I can't help myself" he leaned in closer as he nibbled on your earlobe before he pinned you down beneath him. his movements were rough but slow, his hands lifted up your shirt along with the bra that was underneath it just to grope your tits in a very harsh manner making you whimper in pain, the whimper that left your mouth made it so tempting for him to just shove his cock right in your mouth but he could never give in so early.

he was taking it slow just to see how quickly you'd get impatient and start begging for him. the man put his mouth on your right breast, as he started licking and sucking on it while maintaining eye contact with you which made you turn red from embarassment, "stop looking at me like th— fuck!" you were interrupted when he bit the nipple he was sucking on. it was painful but dazai enjoyed it.

"you're so fucking mean" you said with slight annoyance causing him to raise an eyebrow "oh yeah? how fragile you are, it seems i always cause you pain just to satisfy my own needs...." as much as he was trying to make it seem like he felt bad, he did not, the jerk was enjoying it. "i promise you, bella, ill reward you in the end if you're obedient~" his honey like voice had such a huge effect on you making you feel helpless.

"but, unfortunately ill need to arrange something so that you won't be able to interrupt me while i work" he pretends to think for a second before an idea pops up in his mind. the man took off the bandages on his neck, revealing the bare skin behind it, using them to tie your hands together before he also grabbed a mouthgag from his drawer. his eyes analysing your body as you sat on your knees with your hands tied behind your back and the mouthgag preventing you from speaking as it caused drool to run down your mouth.

"my my, am i in heaven?" the words left his mouth with a chuckle following. your upper half was exposed as dazai also started to undress your lower half to reveal your dripping cunt. "oh my, you were just complaining about how mean I was a few minutes ago but you're dripping this hard? does that mean you enjoy it when I treat you like a doll?" this man could say the most disgusting shit and somehow it'd still be hot. two of his fingers teased the entrance of your clit, pulling on it and stroking it making you whine against the mouth gag, saliva running down both sides of your lips.

you were trying to beg him to quit teasing you but the mouthgag made it impossible. dazai, of course knew this but acted clueless on the matter, "what's wrong bella? if you wanna make a request, you'll have to use your words you know~" you just sat there , trying to endure how dazai was playing with your clit. finally , he pushed his two fingers in, pumping them in and out, making you roll your eyes and arch your back against his fingers. you could feel yourself getting close until he realised this and pulled them out.

your eyes widened as you looked at the man with tears foaming in your eyes, "shhh, it's okay doll, you're doing so well for me, it's only a matter of time till I give you your reward, just have a little patience for me okay?" you were embarassed to even look at him in that pathetic state as tears started running down your cheeks. "ignoring me hm? what if i give you a bit of freedom hm? it's only fair since you were obedient that whole time", he says taking the mouthgag out from your mouth , making you gasp for breath.

"I wonder if you can last through this~. naturally, one has to work for a reward" the words that left his mouth were followed by a sinister grin, his hands removing the clothing that had been covering his lower half, to reveal parts of his legs that were bandaged , you didn't even get to get a look at his pretty cock because it was already in your mouth. dazai put your hair behind your ear and grabbed a handful of it while he forcefully thrust himself inside your mouth, "god, bella! your mouth is so skilled when it comes to stuff like this, what a talented doll you are".

he wasnt being gentle with it either. you were huffing and trying your best not to gag but it was unavoidable with the way he was forcing himself inside you. "such a professional, aren't you? I'm about to cum so make sure you swallow all of it yeah? otherwise there'll be consequences~" his voice was like honey but his intentions weren't. beads of sweat running down his forehead as the moonlight pierced through your glass window, shining on his skin. he released in your mouth after a bit. naturally, you stuck your tongue out to show him because that's the only way he'd be satisfied.

"you took me well, so as a reward, I'll untie the bandages for you but if you dare cum before me, I'll make sure that you don't get to cum the whole night. does your pretty head understand or are you too dumb that you can't talk?" you just nodded and barely manged to utter out your consent. a mischievous grin forming on dazai's face before he snapped his finger , causing the bandages around your hands to fall off almost instantly. his hands travelled to your plushy thighs , putting them over his shoulder as he lined up his cock before your entrance.

pushing inside you without a warning was something you should've expected from the bastard, throwing your head back onto the pillow placed on top of the futon as dazai's thrust sped up by each second passing by, your head was dizzy with visible hearts in your eyes, cheeks painted red with drool running down from your lips. "fuck!— belladonna! how long was it since we fucked? your little cunt is clenching around me so tightly" breathy but low moans left his mouth before he leaned in to wrap it around your nipple, sucking and licking on it while making eye contact with you.

"don't look at me like— fuck! bastard...." being the jerk he was, he only laughed like a maniac and continued thrusting inside before lightly biting on your nipple making you whince in pain. moans leaving your mouth by each second as you felt your orgasm getting closer. "w-wait dazai! I'm close!—" he only chuckled and whispered in a sadistic tone "you know you can't cum yet~ but you're so pretty like this that I almost want you to cum just so i can torture you for my satisfaction all night" his words caused tears to run down your cheeks, he whispered sweet things to you to comfort you but he was secretly enjoying seeing you vulnerable.

at last, you creamed all over his cock and unfortunately before him too, knowing the outcome of it, you were beginning to regret agreeing to his conditions. his hands travelled to your neck to hold it with a strong force to cut off your air, "my oh my....you really want me to touch you all night huh? well...it'll be my pleasure 'donna".

[minhosimthings]

Backstage Notoriety

Synopsis: Chan trying to shush you, as you try not to alert the rest of the boys about what you're doing backstage

Pairings: Bang Chan × Soloist!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fingering, overstimulation, Degradation (like only a little), praise, gagging kink, necklace is used as a gag, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), pregnancy joke, angry sex, rough sex

A/N: ITS YO GIRL MONA BACK WITH ANOTHER SMUT YALL WOOOHOOOOO I really like this for some reason I had fun writing it. Also Chan has got me in a chokehold rn I NEED THIS MAN TO BREED ME. And yes this is me procrastinating on my ongoing wip.

Dating a fellow idol was something you never thought you'd do in your entire life but here you were. Staring at your boyfriend dancing with the rest of his kids members and watching all his Stays with bedroom eyes. To say you were jealous was an understatement. A very great understatement, that is.

Being a soloist was a lonely job, with the one exception being that you didn't need to follow a packed schedule like other groups did. You could just sit back after your stage, and stare at everyone's outfits backstage, as you wait for your boyfriend to take you home and fuck you into oblivion. Yet as you watched your boyfriend show off his waist in a crop top your favourite colour, you couldn't help but want him to notice you. Stupid horny teenager coded feelings right?

"Haneul how much time till they finish?" You asked your manager who was packing up your things. She looked over at you and smiled. "Just another minute or so Y/N be patient you'll see him soon enough." She bent down and kissed your head "I'm going home alright? Tell Minho where I went or he'll go crazy. You'll come with Chan or should I tell a car to wait?" You shook your head at her. "I'll come with him don't worry. You should worry about Minho though he's gonna go mental when he finds out you left without him." Haneul let out a laugh and patted your shoulder before quickly walking out the door, leaving you all alone.

The sound of thunderous applause startled you, as you saw your boyfriend quickly walking down the stage, seven kids following him like penguins. The first one to enter the room was your boyfriend, suprisingly not covered in sweat and fashioning a towel round his neck. His face was not without happiness as he caught his eye on you and strode over, making adorable grabby hands.

"Baby!" he hugged you tightly, as you did everything in your power to stay mad at him, "Next time I'll make sure they arrange our shows right after one another. I can't stand not being with you for so long." "hmm" you hummed in response, not reciprocating the hug as you usually did. The rest of the members had entered the room by then and you spotted Minho frantically searching for his phone. "Haneul went home Minho." you cried at him, successfully catching his attention as he looked at you with widened eyes, "Don't worry, she's probably waiting for you."

"Oh alright." Minho said, plopping down onto the sofa, "Thanks for the message." You smiled gently at him, and turned to pick up your phone, when warm arms wrapped around your waist, making you freeze in your spot. The offer to sink into Chan's embrace was a tempting one, one that would effectively ruin your plan. "Did I do something wrong baby?" you heard Chan's voice whisper in your ear, tone akin to one he'd use for a child. You were being childish after all.

"Just tired Chan. I need to get home alright?", you briefly responded, wiggling away from his embrace. "I'll drop you off to the car." Chan responded, wrapping an arm around your waist so tightly that you couldn't protest, "I left something in my dressing room anyway so we can just get that on the way hm?" His tone worried you slightly. It was unlike the lovey-dovey one he usually used with you. Lovey? yes. Dovey? Definitely not.

The silence between you and Chan was too loud as both of you walked to Chan's dressing room, which was relatively near the exit point. His stare remained in front of him, not even a glance at you. You, on the other head, were trapped in his hold on your waist. It was tight. Too tight. The Pain kink comes in handy though right?.

"You really thought ignoring me would do anything baby?" Chan suddenly spoke up, when you reached the door to his dressing room. You shuddered as he pushed you against the door, one hand on the doorknob, the other holding your chin to him. "Chan-" "Nuh uh baby." He glared, "You're gonna pay for this."

Chan bombarded your lips with his and kissed you with every inch of pain in him. You would have melted into the kiss had it not been for Chan opening the doorknob and pushing you in.

"Wearing this cute little outfit and ignoring me." Chan mumbled in between the messy kiss, "Stupid little girl aren't you?" You gasped for air as Chan slid his fingers down your panties. You decided to give your stylist a bag of chocolates the next day, for giving you such an accessible dress.

"Ah Chan!" You shout out as Chan moves his fingers around your pussy, touching you exactly at all the spots he knew you adored. Chan slowly pulled off your underwear and threw it on the floor before pulling you into another kiss, fingers still racing across your cunt. His other hand reached up almost automatically to your hair, gripping it hard. You moaned into the kiss at his touch on your scalp as your hands quickly undid his trousers.

He’s rough. Good god, he’s fucking rough. His cock stretches you open deliciously, slamming into the deepest parts of you. The slick sounds of your dripping arousal fill the room with every violent thrust. You were sure your already short dress was about to get shorter as Chan kept such a firm grip on them, feeling the fabric twisting in between his fingers. With Chan continuing to fuck you, It’s almost impossible to keep yourself quiet at a time like this.

“J-Jesus,” you gasp, “holy fuck, Channie, y-you, fuck, you feel so fucking hot.” Your voice wavers in pitch and volume. Chan maintains a brutal pace, which you could swear he does on purpose. He lets out a gruff chuckle.

"It's Channie now is it baby?" He mocks you, "Fucking you so good you can't even speak can you?"

You let out a loud yelp when you feel his hand give your ass a hard slap. You jerk forward, shuddering on his cock. You can feel his towering frame lean over you, pulling you up by the shoulders, gathering you to his chest. He puts his fingers in your mouth, silencing your cries of lust.

You suck on his fingers, moans bubbling in your throat as Chan pistons his hips. It’s almost embarrassing how much you like the feeling of Chan using you like his personal doll.

“Babe,” Chan slows down. “As much as I love hearing what I do to you…” he gently maneuvers you, flipping you to look into your eyes. His hand tucks a piece of hair the fell onto your face behind your ear. His hand cups your cheek, the sweetness of his actions causes your mind to run wild with what kind of degenerate, devious plans he has in store for you. He reaches over to his neck and slowly unclasped the metal chain decorating it ever so wonderfully. "You're way too loud darling.”

"Open your mouth for me darling." He cooes at you as he shoves the necklace into your mouth. You wince in pain as the cold metal hits your tongue. Chan stares at you with an amused look on his face. "That's my good girl." He praises, giving a sudden thrust, which makes you widen your eyes.

You make a muffled cry for more, your soft and loud moans were music to his ears. He breathed heavily along with you as held onto your hips tightly. Skin smacking echoed in the room and you heard his soft groan which sent you coming. He groans louder as you clench around him.

Thankfully, Chan didn’t argue or get you to beg for his cock any more as he jolted his hips into you. “Always so loud aren't you darling?”, he scolded light-heartedly under his breath.

“Cha- Channie no more,” you plead with the necklace muffling your tone, tossing your head back onto the wall, hips bucking up into his despite your words. Chan growls, pushing you down by your stomach and blanketing your body with his own and pressing your knees almost up to your tits.

“You can take it, my dove, I promise,” the words come out choked, hoarse, but you wither under them nonetheless. The necklace had been laying down on the floor, having been detached from your mouth a long time ago. You can feel his cock pulsing deep inside your walls, seed almost spilling out from your entrance from his last two orgasms. You’re sure he’s overstimulated beyond belief, just like you, but he just can’t seem to stop.

“Wait, don’t cum yet; I’m so close, don’t cum”, you begged , not entirely wanting it to end just yet. Chan gasped, his mouth opening wide as his eyes did the opposite as they clenched shut as he concentrated on fucking you and not having another orgasm.

It doesn’t take long to feel the first flutterings of that eye-wateringly beautiful sensation between your legs as you quickly stammer, “I’m cumming! Fuck!”. Chan’s legs nearly gave out underneath him, hearing your sweet words.

As your pussy contracted in wet bursts around him, Chan released every drop of cum inside of his body, deep into your walls so that you could feel yourself becoming full and it beginning to drip out as it became too much. His thrusts slowed to a stop as you both slumped against the wall, bodies covered in a thin line of sweat.

"You alright honey?" He mumbled into your neck as he holds you tightly in his arms. "I'm good." You simply respond, cradling in Chan's warm muscles. Chan quickly deposits your weak figure on the divan before rushing off to find a towel and a change of clothes.

"I'm sorry Channie." You mumble, feeling your face turn red as Chan puts your shoes back on. He looks up at you with an amused expression and hums. "It's alright darling." He chuckles, "My jealous little baby." You slap his arm playfully as he gets you up slowly and walks you to the door, this time the grip on your waist being a comforting one.

"I wonder if your cum took or not." You blurt out. Chan looks at you with widened eyes before giggling. "You wouldn't really have to get used to being called mom do you? What with your seven adopted kids." "Our seven adopted kids." You correct him as he blushes and kisses you on the forehead.

"Seven kids who are probably wondering what their mom and dad have been doing backstage."

[hksdlgsyappage]

[Wherein spencer reid is tired from work and you cockwarm him]

Characters: Spencer reid x reader

C: Smut

Spencer Reid has been very tired and busy while he's at work at the BAU, often times doesn't come home due to the amount of work he has to do or the fact he is out of state with the team. When he does come home, he's pretty much put off of it, staring off to the ceiling and just sitting on the couch, but of course, he'll try to give some affection to you...

You sauntered into the dimly lit living room, your curvaceous figure barely contained by a thin, oversized hoodie - one of Spencer's many shirts she'd pilfered during his long absences. The fabric hung loosely on your shoulders, slipping tantalizingly low to reveal the creamy swell of her breasts. Your locks, tumbled in tousled waves around your face, a testament to the restless nights spent yearning for your beloved's touch.

As you approached the worn leather couch where Spencer sat hunched over a pile of case files, your eyes gleamed with mischief and unbridled lust.

Spencer's nose twitches slightly as he catches the faint scent of his own cologne mingling with your natural aroma. His dark eyes flick up to meet yours, exhaustion evident in their depths, yet a spark of hunger ignites as he drinks in the sight of you draped in his clothing.

"That's quite the tempting picture you paint, darling. Wearing my things, filling them with your essence..." His voice is a low, gravelly rumble." You have no idea how badly I wanted to come home to you tonight. To lose myself in your warmth, your softness..."

One hand leaves the file to trail along your thigh, fingertips digging in lightly as if to confirm you're real.

"But duty calls, much as I wish it didn't. These cases won't solve themselves."

You smirk as you walk over to him, sitting on his lap "Mhmm, you don't know how much I missed you leaning in closer" you lightly trace his chest through the fabric of his collared shirt "I missed your touch, your voice, your scent...mhmm especially your scent" you smell his scent from his neck lightly nipping on him making him roll his eyes and head back for more exposure

"I wore your hoodies while you're away and it just made me miss you more...to the point I'm touching myself every night and your hoodies are covered in my juices" you lean in leaving hot trail of kisses from his neck to his jaw.

"I especially miss your fat cock in me" you lightly move your hips on hip feeling Spencer hardening from under you. "How you fuck me senseless..how I missed you filling me with your cum"

You straddle Spencer's lap, the heat of your core pressing against his rapidly stiffening length through the thin fabric of his slacks. You winds your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the short hairs at his nape as she gazes at him through lowered lashes.

"Oh, Spence... I need you so badly. Every night without you feels like an eternity." You roll your hips slowly, deliberately, coating his clothed erection with your damp arousal. "Let me help you relax, baby. I promise I'll be quick and quiet... just a little stress relief for my hardworking man."

Leaning in, you traces the shell of his ear with your tongue before whispering sultrily, "I'll rock on this big, thick cock until you forget all about those boring reports. Fill me up nice and deep, make me yours again."

Spencer sighs, tilting his head to the side to give you more access to his neck. He moves his hands up your back, his palms gently running over your back "I have a lot of work to do angel, you know that"

he said in a shaky voice. You could tell how much he was holding himself back from you. He wanted you to keep going so he could let himself go too

He sets the papers aside with a frustrated sigh, his eyes darkening with desire as he looks at you. "Darling, you're playing with fire here. I'm trying to get this report done, but all I can think about is burying myself inside you."

"Finish work faster then," you say as you continue kissing his neck

he groans quietly, tilting his head to the side to give you even more access. He could feel himself getting harder with your kisses. He let out a shaky breath and spoke in a rough voice

His large hands grip your hips possessively, thumbs rubbing circles on your skin. "As much as I want to bend you over the arm of the couch and take you hard, I have to finish this first. It's important."

Leaning in, he nips at your earlobe before whispering huskily, "But after I'm done, I'm going to worship every inch of your body until you're screaming my name. I'll make up for every moment we've been apart."

"Or..." you smirk and pull him out and slide down on him as he attempts to get back to work, making sure he's watching your every move.

"I'll just sit on your lap then"

Spencer groans as he feels your warmth wrap around him. "Angel... you're making it difficult to concentrate" he grips onto your hips tighter

"Work, spence" you say as you sit comfortably on him feeling him in you twitching and itching for any kind of friction from your warmth

he takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the work in front of him, taking occasional glances at you on his lap, he was struggling to concentrate, you were a constant distraction, but he tried to focus anyway

"I can't... I can't concentrate with you like that..youre being such a brat" he said in a shaky voice while trying to read his papers

You continue to sit still on Spencer's lap, feeling his hardness throb insistently against your heated center despite his words. A coy smile plays at the corners of your mouth as you notices his futile attempts to focus on the papers.

"Aww, am I distracting you, baby?" You purr, purposefully shifting your weight to grind down ever so slightly. "That's too bad... because I'm not planning on moving anytime soon."

Your nimble fingers play the buttons of his shirt, one by one. "You say I'm being a brat, but I think you secretly love it when I tease you like this. Gets your blood pumping, hmm?"

Spencer's breathing grows heavier as your teasing touches and provocative movements stoke the flames of his desire. He sets the papers aside with a resigned groan, his full attention now focused solely on the temptress in his lap.

"Fuck... you're impossible." His large hands slide up to cup her generous breasts, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of the borrowed hoodie. "Fine, you win. I can't concentrate worth a damn with you sitting on my cock like this."

In one swift motion, he stands, lifting her easily as he turns to press her back against the wall. His hips pin her in place as he claims her mouth in a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth and pent-up passion. "I hope you're ready for what you started, Angel."

You moan into the heated kiss, your body melting against Spencer's larger frame. You hook a leg around his hip, using the leverage to grind yourself more firmly against the rigid outline of his erection. Your nails rake down his back as you arches into him, desperate for more contact.

"Mmm, yes Spence... I've been ready for you all day." You pant against his lips, your eyes glazed with lust. "I need you inside me, filling me up. Want to feel that big cock stretching me open...Take me right here against the wall, baby. Fuck me hard and fast, make me scream. I don't care if the whole neighborhood hears how good you make me feel!"

You throw your head back with a sharp cry of ecstasy as Spencer pounds into you, each powerful thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through her core. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped indents in his skin as she clings to him desperately.

"Yes, yes, YES! Oh god Spence, just like that!" You wail, meeting him thrust for thrust. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by their escalating moans and grunts. "Harder baby, please! Ruin me with this big fucking cock!"

Your inner muscles begin to flutter and clench around him erratically as your peak approaches. You buries her face in the crook of his neck, panting harshly against his sweat-slicked skin.

Your entire body trembles with overwhelming pleasure as he drives into me relentlessly, each deep stroke hitting that perfect spot inside. You wrap my legs tighter around his waist, urging him even deeper.

"Ahhh fuck, you're so deep... splitting me open on this huge cock." I moan wantonly, my nails raking down his back as I hold on for dear life. The coil of tension in my core winds tighter and tighter with each passing second. "Don't stop, please don't ever stop! I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum!"

Throwing my head back, I let out a silent scream as my orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave. My pussy clamps down rhythmically, milking his pistoning shaft as I ride out the intense waves of ecstasy.

As the aftershocks of your intense climax continue to course through my trembling form, I cling to him desperately, my face buried in the crook of his neck. You pepper his sweat-slicked skin with open-mouthed kisses and nips, tasting the saltiness of his exertion.

"Mmmm Spence... that was incredible," you purr breathlessly, your inner muscles still fluttering weakly around his still-hard length."But don't think we're done yet, mister. I want to feel you cum inside me... fill me up with your hot seed until it's leaking out of me."

Slowly, sensually, you start to roll my hips again, grinding myself along his thick shaft buried deep within my sopping cunt. My slick walls massage him from every angle, coaxing him closer to his own release.

As the last spurts of his release dribble into you, Spencer collapses forward, pinning you to the wall with his larger frame. He peppers your face and neck with soft kisses, interspersed with tender nips and licks as he comes down from his high.

"That was... fuck, that was amazing," he murmurs huskily, his voice rough with satisfaction. Slowly, reluctantly, he starts to soften inside you, but makes no move to pull out just yet. "Love feeling my cum sloshing around in this perfect little pussy... marking you from the inside out."

His hands roam your curves reverently, mapping out every dip and swell as he holds you close. "Mmmm... I could stay buried in you forever, my angel. Never want to slip out of this heavenly heat."

You remain nestled against the wall, savoring the delicious weight of Spencer's body pressing me there as our heart rates gradually slow. The warm, heavy feeling of his release settling deep inside me sends pleasant shivers through my nerves. I tilt my head to capture his lips in a languid, sensual kiss, pouring all my post-coital bliss into the intimate gesture.

"Mmmm... I love having you so deep, filling me up so perfectly," I murmur dreamily when we finally part for air. My inner muscles give a lazy, contented squeeze around his semi-hard length still nestled within my folds. "Stay just like this a while longer? I don't want to lose a single precious drop of you yet..."

After several long moments basking in the afterglow, Spencer finally pulls back slightly to gaze into your eyes, a lazy, satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch infinitely gentle despite the intensity of your coupling mere minutes before.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to kill me with pleasure," he teases, his voice a low, intimate rumble. "The way you take me so perfectly, like you were made for my cock... it's enough to bring a man to his knees."

He shifts his hips slightly, a reminder of his semi-hardness still nestled snugly inside your cum-filled channel. "What do you say we take this somewhere more comfortable, hmm?"

[thestargayzingheroine]

Why A Better World is my favourite "Evil Superman" Story

So in the last two decades or so, there's been a notable amount of dark and edgy stories around superheroes turning evil and whatnot and most of them really love to do their own expies of Superman. I've never been the biggest fans of these kinds of stories.

And then there's the actual stories of Superman and other heroes being outright villains or at least just massive assholes. In recent years, this has been largely thanks to the influence of media like the Injustice Games or the Synderverse DC movies. It's... honestly become a trope I am tired of.

Because you know the damnest thing? There is a story that does all these ideas really damn well and arguably better. It is the two-parter from the Justice League cartoon "A Better World".

Now, I am aware how most people favouring the DCAU has become a bit of toxic nostalgia at times and it's something I myself am trying to work through a bit. But in this case, I do think it's the best idea of doing an evil DC story, much better and more interesting than the Crime Syndicate, who if you ask me are not very interesting, though I do remember liking the Crisis On Two Earths movie a lot, which funny enough, was originally going to be this two parter before various things led to it being canned and then later repurposed as a direct to DVD movie.

Anyway, my main crux of why I love this story is simple... The entire Justice League turns evil... and the reasons are very much in-character for all of them. You look at the scene with Justice Lord Batman for example.

As fucking evil as the Justice Lords are... Batman can't quite fully hate his alternate self for his reason for taking part in all this being basically one-step further than his own mission, that no child should ever go through what he did. Hell, I recall reading that the reason the writers had Batman drop his batarang at the end of this scene... was because he genuinely wouldn't be able to come up with an argument to that.

Superman likewise kills Lex Luthor because yeah, Luthor literally exploited the flaws in Democracy and became president of the US, threatening to kinda basically start world war 3. It's obviously horrible... but Superman is a character whose main motivation is making the world a better place. And if people who abuse the systems of power of the world are hurting people, why shouldn't Superman put a stop to that?

And yeah, Superman should obviously never kill, he's the most paragon of paragons of the DC universe, a man committed to always being better than the villains he fights... but this is him pushed to his most logical extreme. Hell, the main Superman knows this and its why Lex used his knowledge of this alternate universe as part of his plan in the season after this, to goad our Superman into crossing the line because yeah, there's a part of him that could go this far.

But right as Superman is about to apparently finish him, the big guy says this.

"I'm not the man who killed President Luthor. I wish to heaven that I were but I'm not."

Because Superman like everyone else, obviously would have those same thoughts and same urges. He's human.

I've kinda gone off Injustice a bit because to be honest... the injustice games were kinda just this but a bit too edgelordy. Hell, in A Better World, Lois Lane still lives and the whole genesis of it doesn't revolve around her getting fridged.

So yeah, A Better World is probably one of my favourite mirror universe stories because of the fact that well... it really is like looking in a mirror and seeing just how easy the greatest heroes can become evil and how they wouldn't be massively out of character doing so. But also it reminds us that as much as this darkness can tempt some of our finest, the ones who don't go down this dark path are stronger in heart than anyone else. Because when the world becomes a dark and horrible place, it becomes very easy to be just as dark. But even though it can be hard to still try and be a good person even in dark times, it's ultimately worth it. Because good always triumphs over evil.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Welp now I'm imagining Viktor's S/O teasing him on how he's an old man so Viktor takes that as a challenge. He's going to make sure his S/O can't walk straight and he's going to enjoy every minute of it.

A/n: The amount of work he does, you just know he has high stamina .

Side-note: i apologize if this sucks

Viktor wasn't deaf, he heard the whispers of the men that stepped into Lackadaisy when they found out you were with him.

The amount of men you'd turn down with a forced smile. You used to be polite but it had gotten to a point where you'd had to ask him to step in so they leave him alone.

But he'd never thought you'd start teasing him about his age. Yes he was older than you, yes he was confused to why someone as sweet as you would ever want to be with him though he was a little confused to why you were teasing him now, his eye narrowed as he watched you and Mitzi talk about something.

"When I really want Viktor to tire me out, all I have to do is tease him about his age....I think he takes it as s challenge."

Mitzi sighed, as she gave you a playful smile tipping her head to the side. "Is this your way of telling me that he won't be in tomorrow?"

"Yup!" Grinning you slid off the seat. "Oh Viktor!"

Working his jaw, Viktor did not say a word as he lifted you onto your shoulders. It did not take long for you two be out of the establishment then towards the little apartment you shared with the Slavic.

A low rumble escaped his chest as he placed you down on the bed. "For you moja láska, I will have the stamina of a hundred men" He murmur huskily against your lips, slipping his hands down to caress your soft curves.

Hovering over you, Viktor let out a small growl, nipping at your plump bottom lip as he felt your body press into.

Hearing your whimpers, he continued to ravish your neck with open-mouthed kisses, unable to hold back his need and passion any longer. "By the time I'm done with you miláčik, you will be so full of my seed there will be no doubt our child is on the way."

He promise between feverish bites, already aching to claim you wholly as only he can.

Pulling away for a moment, looking deep into your loving eyes darkened with your own passionate desire for him, Viktlr caressed your cheek. "You are so beautiful."

Your pleas and whimpers driving him to the brink of madness with want for you.

"You have no idea how crazy you make me moja láska..."He growl hungrily, starting to undo the buttons of her blouse at feverish speed.

His breath hitches at the tempting feel of your soft lips against his neck, a low groan escaping him as lust and need surge dangerously close to snapping my already thinning control. It was maddening with how you were teasing him, you knew how to push his buttons and he loved it.

"miláčik, you're making this infinitely harder for me..."He growled, capturing your lush mouth in a bruising, fiery kiss as his hands gripped your hips firmly, grinding you against his aching hardness. You moan wantonly into his mouth as he ravished you greedily, drinking in your taste.

Pulling away slightly to gaze down at your debauched form quivering with desire, he let out a choked curse. flipping you over roughly as his hands rip your clothes off in a frenzy.

Lifting your hips, he position myself at your slick entrance before slamming home in one deep thrust, making you both cry out in bliss. "You asked for this moja láska..." He warned through clenched teeth, setting an unrelenting pace that has the bed creaking under the movements.

Viktor gripping your tail tightly, fucking you mercilessly as you takes it all with eager mewls and whimpers, the sounds of your flesh slapping together and your sweet gasps filling the room. He pounds harder, giving you only what he wants, taking you with a possession that belongs to him alone.

His name tears itself from your throat over and over amidst increasingly incoherent pleas as your climax grips you, triggering his own brutal release deep inside your womb. He bites down fiercely on your shoulder to muffle my his, emptying every last drop to ensure you carrying his child.

Panting heavily, he turns you spent, sated form to face him, eyes and hearts overflowing with love. "Mine..." He whispers, against your lips, branding you again as eternally, solely what belongs to Viktor Vasko.

[intoanotherworld23]

At His Mercy

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT NSFW 18+ ONLY, this one shot contains use of a sex toy, use of vibrator, denial of orgasm, mentions of sex, swear words

Length: 1091 words

Summary: Joel decides to teach you a hard lesson when he overhears a conversation between you and his brother

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

Imagine him pulling out a vibrator instead of a knife in this GIF cause that’s what I did! Tag list is open for Pedro! Hearts, reblogs and comments are highly encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy everyone! XOXO

"Joel please." You begged from the bed the handcuffs digging into your skin.

Joel was standing at the foot of the bed watching your every move. Your wrists bound to the head board. A vibrator stuffed in between your legs at high volume. Your moans filling the room along with the buzzing of the vibrator.

“What’s that sweetheart?”

Your attitude towards him had gotten on his last nerve, and now he was punishing you. The punishment was not being able to cum. Which was kind of your fault, but still he didn't have push you like this.

"Joel fuck please I'm sorry." You whined tugging at the restraints.

“I don’t know if I believe you.” Clicking his tongue.

“God Joel please I’m begging you.”

He wasn't breaking though. That man was determined to not give in, and stay strong not letting you release.

"No. I let you cum so many times the other night but that wasn't good enough." His voice stern and rough.

Joel overheard you talking to Tommy of all people about your sex life. Confessing to his brother that he only lets you orgasm once or twice, and that it wasn’t enough for you. That you wanted more from him, and he wasn’t exactly satisfying you.

Of course Joel was furious about this, but then came up with his own plan to get back at you. Instead of fighting or arguing with you he would do things his own way. Then you would learn to appreciate how many times he lets your orgasm.

“You look so fucking good like this baby.” His eyes drifting up and down your body.

Your head back against the pillow desperate to cum. Legs shaking with need, and arms becoming tired from being held up for what felt like hours. Your juices probably soaking the vibrator. He just continued to watch and stare at you.

The vibrator was buzzing inside of your pussy, making the most filthiest of noises. It made your cheeks heat up, but turned you on even more at the same time. Your walls welcoming it and refusing to let it go.

"Fuck if only you could see yourself." He groaned as his eyes looked your trembling body up and down.

As if that wasn't torture enough he decided to thrust the vibrator inside of you. Moving it slowly in and out of you not plunging it deeply enough. Your screams not echoing throughout the room. Your back now arching off the bed.

"Fuck." You squealed your body gyrating with the toy.

Your pussy clenching around the toy trying to make yourself cum. Moving your hips along his movements hoping to get a better angle. Your sweet release so close, but yet so far away from you.

When Joel saw what you were doing he stopped thrusting the toy inside of you making you groan. He just smirked at your shaking and sweaty body writhing on the bed. Joel was tempted to give in, but he was enjoying this too much.

“Not so fast sweetheart. Think your so clever don’t ya?”

Looking at him your saw he was trying to restrain himself. His pants were forming a tent and his body language screamed lust and desire. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

All he wanted was to ravish your sweaty body that was begging for him. He had to remember that this was your punishment.

Your mind was swirling with all type of feelings and thoughts. You tried imagining it was Joel’s cock inside you. Remember the feeling of how good it felt when he was pounding into you. Your thighs clenching at the memory of everytime he would fuck you into oblivion.

Your legs bending hoping maybe you could move the toy on your own. Joel could tell what you were attempting to do this time, and placed his hands on your legs keeping them flat. It wasn't enough and you wanted more and he knew that.

"Do you want to cum baby?" His tone mocking but you couldn't help but nod tears pricking at your eyes.

You were so desperate to have that familiar feeling over take you. Whimpering and whining like a desperate animal, but all Joel did was smirk at how pathetic you looked.

"Do you wanna cum baby?" He teased you as he pushed the vibrator deep inside of you keeping it there making you squeal. "Bet your squeezing this toy so tightly."

Unable to form words to speak you just kept nodding your head pleading with him. Without saying a word he walked over to the right side of the bed.

His hand reached down, and you thought he was going back to thrust the vibrator inside of you. Closing your eyes as you waited for the feeling to happen, but instead nothing happened.

Instead his fingers attached themselves to the little bundle of nerves that was aching. Rubbing figure eights which caused your body to twitch. Closing your legs on instinct as his hands pushed them wide open.

“Ugh uh baby keep those legs open for me like a good girl.”

Your stomach was tightening with how close you were getting to orgasm. The sweat was just beading on your forehead. Feeling your legs start to slowly shake at the sudden overly sensitive stimulation.

"Joel please fuck. I need to cum." Your voice shaky and desperate to cum.

Tears were running down your cheek unable to take anymore of this teasing. He just had this shit eating grin on his face. A lump forming in your throat as you tried to swallow the saliva in your mouth.

Not saying anything his hand gripping the vibrator and thrusted it into harder this time. Toes curling against the sheets, and your hands gripping onto the restraints feeling yourself get on edge.

“Let it all go baby. That’s a good girl just like that.”

Your head leaning far back against the pillow, and closing your eyes relinquishing in the feeling. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. It was the best feeling in the world right now to you.

A couple more thrusts and you felt yourself squeezing the vibrator drenching it in your fluids. Your body tired from the sexual torture Joel had put your through. Your chest heaving up and down trying to catch your breath.

"Maybe this will teach you to appreciate how many times I let you cum." He whispered into your ear giving your neck soothing kisses before taking the restraints off.

[mencantaleer]

tangerine smut attempt

Possible bullet train spoiler

Alternate line where tangerine does not die.

Set after beating white death.

Synopsis: Just the reader taking care of her boy after he comes back from a complicated day.

Female reader over 18 years old, 2797 words. mdni!

Warnings : rough sex, oral sex (m receiving), submissive reader, degradation (whore, slut), compliments, mild humiliation, a little tangerine fluff.

I really wanted to write about ATJ but after seeing bulleta train I was tempted to write about Tangerine, I'm not an expert in writing so if there are mistakes or suggestions I'm open to hear them (as long as they are respectful).

I finished writing it at 3 a.m. so I apologize if there are any spelling mistakes, my English is very basic so I tried to translate it the best way I could.

I hope you like it <3, enjoy.

Since you are tangerine's girlfriend you are used to see him coming home with a body full of wounds due to his “work”, you are tired of that although you also find it exciting to see your man full of blood and with a stress that you know you will help to relieve. You love to be fucked hard by Tangerine after every assignment but you are not willing to risk losing him, the train incident reminded you of how fragile life is, that same train where you met him and although you were ready to kill him the fact that they were trapped in the bathroom changed your perspective (you still blush remembering what happened in that cubicle) and how after that he spared your life, a favor that you would return by saving his by pushing him to the ground to deflect the bullet that the fool carter had fired.

Luego de esta situación entablaste una relación de amigos con derechos que se vio opacada por los celos de Mandarina que al ver que un chico te cortejaba no dudó en pedirte que hicieran oficial lo que tenían, lo cual aceptaste sin dudar.

And now we're back here again as you choose lingerie since your boyfriend's wild one ended up breaking the most you had, you look all over the store until you notice a black lace set with floral details, the straps are thin and form a criss-cross design in the center of the chest, adding a sensual touch. The bottom is also lace, with straps extending from the sides, crisscrossing along the abdomen, exposing much of the skin. It's simply perfect, without wasting any more time, you pay for it and head back home until the sound of an incoming call from Tangerine appears on your cell phone screen.

Her voice sounds frazzled but calm

“Hey, it's me, are you busy?” -Tangerine lets out an exhausted sigh.

“No, is something wrong love?"-you reply.

“Nothing, just… you know how it is. Jobs, beatings, all that stuff that always comes along.”

“Do you need me to pick you up? Are you in danger?"-you murmur as the worry rises in you.

“No, no, it's nothing like that. I've had a heavy and tiring day. I think the best thing would be to relax at home with a shower and a drink, and if it's possible to spend some time with you, that would be the best thing that could happen to me today.”

“I understand, don't worry about anything but getting to the apartment alive, I'll take care of the rest” you said as you hurried to get everything ready for her evening.

Tangerine let out a relaxed laugh at your concern, which made her tired body feel slightly rejuvenated.

“I'll be there alive, I promise. Just wait a bit, in 30 minutes it'll be there, I love you, it didn't take long.”

And with that, Tangerine hung up the call and prepared to go home while you went into a kind of crisis trying to make everything perfect for your reunion with him. A quarter of an hour later, you heard a light knock on the apartment door.

“I'm coming,” you said as you hurried down the stairs, before opening the door, you arranged your coat in such a way that it didn't show what you were wearing.

Finally, you opened the door and turned your head, finding your boy there.

-Hi honey,” his tone was agitated.

His tired gaze meets your loving gaze, and despite the exhaustion, a small but tender smile forms on his face. He looked exhausted, his suit was wrinkled, and some dried blood stains decorated his face and cheeks. But still, he was there, standing before you, with what little he had, despite having had an exhausting and violent day. He stood there for a few seconds in silence, just looking at you and enjoying your presence after a long and exhausting day. Finally he spoke, his voice calm and exhausted.

“May I come in?”

“Of course I do"-you reply as you step aside so I can pass.

Tangerine crosses the threshold with heavy, exhausted steps and leans against the door as she closes it with an exhausted sigh. Her gaze briefly meets yours and she silently thanks you for your understanding and support. Finally, he forces himself to straighten up and walk slowly into the apartment, looking for a place to sit down and relax at last.

Let's go to our room, you'll be more comfortable there- you mentioned while you took him to your room, you immediately discarded the idea of sharing a dinner together, maybe another time, now all your boy needed was love and to forget about what he had done.

Tangerine moved quietly and allowed you to escort him to the room, keeping slow and heavy steps because of the exhaustion he felt. When he reached the room, he allowed you to go ahead of him to finally sit on the bed, letting out an exhausted sigh as he slumped his shoulders and rubbed his face with his hands.

“I'll prepare the bathtub with special salts for you to relax” you offered as you sat down beside her to caress her face.

Tangerine is grateful for the consideration of the prepared bathtub and while she appreciates the intention, she is reluctant to allow herself to be pampered, maintaining a façade of toughness and reserve in the face of her emotional and physical wounds. However, his efforts to maintain that facade are visible to your perceptive gaze, knowing deep down that he actually longs for that moment of relaxation and pampering.

“You don't have to bother with me…” he says as he watches you deeply….

“I don't mind taking care of you love, I just want to make you forget about today” you whispered to her.

Although Tangerine tried to hide it, it was quite obvious that what she wanted most was to feel your love and care at that moment. Even though she tried to keep her feelings at bay and show toughness, there was an undertone of vulnerability in her exhausted look. Although his facade might have suggested that he didn't want to be coddled, he actually craved to feel your support and affection in the midst of that exhausting and injury-ridden day he'd had.And if you wanted Tan to leave that life before now you were more than determined to convince him, it tore you apart to see him so haggard.

“How can I help you Tan?” -you asked as you watched him sit up to sit on his bed.

-“The only thing I need right now is you, help me forget about today,” says Tangerine as you feel his lustful gaze on you, at the same time he starts to fill your neck with wet kisses.

“I thought the evil cockroach would finally talk to me about his feelings"- you say while smirking at the same time you straddle him.

“Come on honey you really thought I would talk to you about how I feel dressed like that, don't think I didn't notice you wearing lingerie under that coat"- he said while kissing you all the time.

“How did you notice?” you asked as you felt your skin bristle at the contact of his mouth against your collarbone.

Tangerine let out a weak exhausted laugh at your question. Though she was trying to maintain her facade of serenity, an amused and exhausted smile forms on her face at the obviousness of your question.

“Not that it was too hard to deduce, honey…. I could tell by the way you moved when you entered the apartment, plus the way the coat contracted in some specific areas, even though you tried to be discreet, it was very obvious to me…”

And what are you going to do now that you know? -you moaned as you felt the bulge that had already formed in your boy's pants.

The first thing I have to do is ask you if you want me to go on because tonight I'm not exactly going to be gentle,” you could tell how desperate he was to claim you as his own.

I never asked you to be gentle,” your voice was full of nothing but desire.

And that was all Tangerine needed to finally get rid of your cumbersome coat, being stunned at the sight of what you were wearing

“you're fucking gorgeous honey” he murmured as he kept looking at you.

“do you like it, why I picked it out with you in mind” you said as you started to move over his bulge.

“It's amazing.. And… I can't deny that… it turns me on so much…” he said as he started to run his fingers over your skin

“Use me as you please, today I just want to help you let off some steam” You moaned as you felt Tan's fingers pinch your nipples.

His voice fills with a more dominant edge, an acknowledgement of dominance at the proximity of your bodies. “I'm going to use you for what you are, my plaything, my whore” he adds with greater concentration, as he tugs at your panties ripping them in the process.

“Only yours… all yours…” you roll your eyes as you feel her fingers moving inside you.

Tangerine watches your eyes, as you close them in excitement, she moves one of her hands to your neck and squeezes, keeping control of the situation. “You want that, don't you?” she adds with concentration, keeping her fingers moving and bringing you closer to orgasm. ‘You want me to treat you like a whore…is that what you want?’ she adds, keeping concentration and hardness in her voice, ”Of course you like it, I can feel it by the way you squeeze my fingers dirty slut.”

You frowned at the cluster of sensations and then nodded, “Yes, yes I like you treating me like your whore, go on please.”

He rubbed your clit in slow circles, feeling you squirm at his touch. “You like that don't you, it makes you horny when I talk dirty to you” he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. “I can feel how wet you are for me.”

He slid a finger inside you, feeling your walls clench around it. He slid it in and out, gradually adding another and then another, opening you up. “Fuck, you're so tight,” he moaned, his cock aching at the erection you were causing him with your moans. “I love the way you feel around my fingers.”

Tangerine curved her fingers, searching for your G-spot that would make you see stars. She found it, and knew she had you right where she wanted you. “Cum for me, baby,” she commanded, her voice strained with pleasure. “I want to feel you come apart around my fingers.”

“So keep going please” you begged as you felt yourself about to come.

He continued to touch you mercilessly, pressing your clit with his thumb as he fucked you with his hand. He could feel your body tense, your moans as you approached climax. “That's it, let yourself go for me,” he urged. “Cum all over my fingers and I promise I'll fill you up all over your holes today.”

That was all you needed to finally cum on him, you could feel your walls clenching around his fingers, your juices coating his hand as you cum hard, just as he had commanded.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he gasped, slowly pulling his fingers out of you. “You're amazing, baby.”

“I told you I would be there to please you today,and I don't break my promise,“ you mentioned as you knelt before him-”May I suck you sir?”

Tangerine felt a shiver run down her spine as she heard your request. She couldn't believe how insatiable you were, but she enjoyed every moment of it. He unbuttoned and pulled down his pants to make it easier for you, his cock bounced in front of your face, he was hard and ready for you. “You want to taste me, baby? I'm all yours,” he said, his voice low and seductive.

He watched you as with your hands you reached for his cock.

“Fuck, you look so sexy like that,” he growled, his eyes fixed on your face. “I can't wait to feel those lips around me.”

Tangerine placed her hand on the back of your head, guiding you closer to his cock. He could feel your warm breath on his sensitive skin, and it made him throb with anticipation. “Take it easy, baby,” he instructed, his voice strained with desire. “I want to savor every moment.”

When your lips closed around his penis, he let out a low moan, his fingers tangling in your hair. “That's it, take me deep,” he encouraged you, moving his hips slightly forward as he rammed into your mouth. “You're doing great, baby. Fuck, you feel amazing.”

Tangerine lost herself in the sensations, closed her eyes as she concentrated on the feel of your mouth around her. She could feel her orgasm approaching and knew it wouldn't be long before she would cum in your throat. “I'm going to cum, baby,” he warned, his voice strained with pleasure. “Swallow it all for me, like a good girl.”

With one last lunge, Tangerine unloaded, his cock throbbing as he shot his hot seed down your throat, droplets of cum falling onto your tits.

“Fuck Tan that was so good"- you mumbled as you dropped onto the bed trying to steady your breathing.

“We're not done yet Principessa. I still have so much more in store for you. “Tangerine stood up still.

“You fucking bastard, you're insatiable” you said with a smirk.

-Don't talk to me like that or I'll have to fuck you until you beg for forgiveness, love.

“Surely you can, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you for all that effort old man?”

Tangerine could sense the teasing in your voice, and that only made him more determined to please you. He gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he proceeded to ram into you with renewed vigor. “You think I can't continue? I'll give you more, see if that changes your perspective,” she growled, her eyes locked on yours.

Tangerine rammed deeper and harder, his balls slapping against your ass with every movement, creating obscene sounds. “I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight. “She could feel her own orgasm building, but refused to let you go until you begged her to cum.

“Fuck, you're so close,” she gasped, her rhythm becoming erratic. “But I won't let you cum until you scream my name and beg me to let you do it.”

“Mhmmm” you moaned unable to control yourself.

“Words baby, use words if you want to cum or I am capable of leaving you like this” he threatens and you know that the very idiot is capable of following through with what he says

“Please love, I need you so much” you cried out, your voice full of desire. “I can't take it anymore.” “I need to cum, please Tan, let me cum.”

With one last thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could, rubbing his hips against yours. “Now, baby,” he commanded, his voice strained with pleasure. “Cum for me now.” His cock throbbed as he cum deep inside you. He could feel your walls clench around him, your juices mingling with his as you cum hard, just as he had commanded.

As he felt your walls close around him, he let out a guttural moan, and soon after he released. He filled you with his hot seed, his body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm.

“Fuck, that was fantastic,” he gasped, slowly pulling out of you and collapsing beside you on the bed.

“I hope I helped de-stress you” you say while still catching your breath.

“You did very well, accepting everything I gave you,” he murmured. “You know,” he began, his fingers gently caressing your cheek, ”when I look at you, I feel like the luckiest person in the world, everything about you captivates me in a way I've never experienced before.”

He leaned over and gave you a tender kiss on your forehead. “I feel so lucky to have you in my life. You bring out a side of me that I never knew existed, a side full of love and devotion.” “I've never felt this way about anyone before, and I know what we have is special. You have shown me what it means, I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too tangerine” you replied as you snuggled into his side before you both fell asleep.

[spooky-donut-ghost-house]

Rant incoming

I'm sorry I'm just so fucking tired of the "Lucifer is actually a good guy!" and the "Heaven is bad" schtick

You expect me to believe that the archangel that was considered arrogant, who hated humanity because he believed that they were inferior to him and he was God's greatest creation, purposefully caused the first sin just to be a dick, tempted millions of people, tried to tempt Jesus everyday while he was fasting and is the literal reason Hell exists in the first place to actually be good?

I'm sorry why the fuck is everybody in Hell terrible except Lucifer???? Even all the other demons are evil but not him

For fuck's sake he's the leader of the PRIDE ring why isn't he PRIDEFUL why isn't he spiteful why isn't he evil HE'S MOTHERFUCKING LUCIFER WHY IS HE SOME GOOFY BITCH WHY IS HE MOPING AROUND ALL DAY WITH HIS STUPID RUBBER DUCKS WHY DID HE WANT TO GIVE HUMANITY FREE WILL THAT'S NOT LUCIFER AT ALL THAT'S JUST SOME DEPRESSED DUDE PLAYING MINECRAFT CREATIVE MODE

Like I would get it if he made Adam and Eve sin to be like "Look! Look at them! They sinned against you! They're imperfect! This is why I am better than them! I am your greatest creation, not them!" NO instead he fucking plays Minecraft on creative mode and wanted everyone else to play on creative mode THAT'S NOT LUCIFER THAT IS NOT HIM WHERE IS THE GREAT DECIEVER HE THAT HE IS SUPPOSED TO BE INSTEAD HE'S JUST SOME FUCKING DEPRESSED SHORT APPLE MAN THAT'S STUPID AND IT GETS EVEN MORE STUPID WHEN YOU COMBINE THE "Lucifer is actually a good guy!" TROPE AND COMBINE IT WITH THE "Heaven is bad actually" TROPE AND THEN TAKE A BIG FAT SHIT EVERYWHERE THAT'S WHAT THIS IS HOLY FUCK THIS IS SO FUCKING STUPID MY GOD YOU HAVE THE MOST DUMBASS FUCKHEAD RUNNING A SHOW AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND THE BASIC FUCKING SHIT ABOUT THE RELIGION SHE CLAIMS TO BE CRITICIZING YOU WHITEWASHED SAINT PETER YOU MADE LUCIFER A SAD BOY YOU MADE ADAM INTO AN IMMATURE DICKHEAD GOD AND JESUS DON'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST IN THIS UNIVERSE WHO THE FUCK IS RUNNING HEAVEN THEN? WHO THE FUCK CASTED LUCIFER OUT OF HEAVEN IF GOD JUST STRAIGHT UP DOESN'T EXIST? WHO CREATED EVERYTHING???? WHY THE FUCK DO THE EXORCISTS AND ADAM LOOK LIKE IMPS IF THEY ARE ANGELS?????? IS SHE EVER GONNA ANSWER THOSE QUESTIONS? PROBABLY FUCKING NOT HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO FUCKING STUPID I AM GONNA HAVE A FUCKING BRAIN ANEURYSM