#if I have to have two layers on my upper body you can handle one

[isfjmel-phleg]

I may be a Certified Wimp, but somehow today I was running with more energy than Goliath's Distant Cousin, who kept trying to mosey his way into my lane.

[freezingmcxn]

hey.. how you doing.. can you maybe make a lil thingy about toby like you did with the eyeless jack thing I'm just really focused on Toby right know idk why but like write it however you want I just want to see your writing on how you rhing he looks and acts take your time you dont even have to do it I love you I love you i love you I love you I love you I love you I lovw you

TOBY ROGERS APPEARANCE (AU)

AHH YES I CAN my motivation is so bad but these always make me really happy and are easy to write so OFC ILY!!

Toby’s hair is a pale, sun-bleached brown, almost blonde, falling to his neck and curling around his ears.

Naturally curly, his hair has become dry and unkempt from bathing in river water and using cheap soap. His curls puff out, lacking any defined shape.

Occasionally, in a fit of frustration, he shaves it all off or trims it, often in a dingy ass gas station bathroom, depending on how much he despises it at the time.

Standing around 5’7” (5’8” in boots), Toby’s constant slouching makes him look as if he might topple over at any moment.

His most noticeable feature is the gash on his mouth, though it’s not as large as one might think.

The wound is just big enough to expose his upper teeth, which are rotted and decayed. Despite its size, the injury reeks of infection, with pus occasionally oozing from the diseased tissue.

Toby often picks at it, making the wound larger over time.

Originally, it was a small bite he inflicted on himself, but his constant fiddling turned it into the gaping wound it is now.

He no longer bites at it, disgusted by the taste of his own decaying flesh. He usually covers it with a large plaster—often supplied by Jack or just lets the air hit it, depending on his mood really.

Toby has a small gold hoop earring in his left ear, a relic from a day when he and Lyra decided to pierce it with a needle. He didn’t feel the pain but kept the earring all these years, occasionally fiddling with it as a reminder of her.

His trusty hatchets dangle from a hardware belt around his waist, always clattering when he moves, a sound he makes sure to emphasise because he knows it irritates people.

The hatchets are mismatched, one is large with a dark oak handle, carved with doodles, while the other is smaller, with a plastic handle, but much sharper—often the one he uses for the first hit.

Both handles are wrapped in duct tape, one of his go-to solutions for everything.

Toby’s skin is sallow, marked by long exposure to the sun. Freckles and moles speckle his body.

His hands are scarred and battered, with half of his left pinky finger missing, and his right hand covered in self-inflicted bite marks. His palms are calloused, his nails ragged—some bruised black, others completely gone.

His teeth are a mess—sharp, chipped, and broken, with gaps where some have been knocked out from fights or lost to decay.

Toby doesn’t bother brushing his teeth, as he often forgets or simply doesn’t care. Eating people doesn’t help either, wrecking his teeth further.

He typically wears the same tattered hoodie for as long as he can stand it, only washing it at a laundromat when absolutely necessary (when it’s bloody and stinky).

He also has an old Joy Division t-shirt layered over a white long-sleeve, both full of holes, though Toby doesn’t mind, he wears it on warmer days.

He’s been wearing the same pair of jeans for five years, patching them up whenever needed—he’s surprisingly good at sewing thanks to Lyra.

On his feet are either old Timberland boots, once his father’s, now worn with a hole in the sole, or a beat-up pair of red Converse, duct-taped at the top.

He alternates between them.

Toby owns a fleece jacket, fingerless gloves, and two beanies—one grey and one black.

The black one is torn and faded, but he likes the way it adds to his look.

He carries everything in a worn blue Jansport backpack he once stole from a kid at a bus stop, where he rams all his clothes and supplies.

I think that’s enough 😭😭 I rambled I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say too much because I fear he won’t be as interesting but yeah! Hope you like him :)

[tiny-talks-big-tales]

👩🏼‍🦼I got the new wheelchair👩🏼‍🦼‍➡️

This creature has WHEELS!!! And it's super hype :D

Today there's been like... about a couple dozen people awaiting updates on how it went, which is really sweet <3 You're all getting this post thrown at you though, I love you but I also like my sanity and the health of my wrists too much to type the same things twenty times.

✿

Delivery went well, and there are some small changes scheduled for Thursday

We spent about 2 hours with the supplier's tech doing final adjustments and such. It was really fun to feel how all the iterative changes on the chair are coming together! It was immediately comfier than any of my past chairs ever were, despite how much worse my mobility is now than back then.

It's wonderful how much having a proper team setting up the chair through actual physical in-person fittings helps. Multiple fittings, even - we're at 3 fitting sessions so far, Thursday will be the 4th. I think after thursday I will be good for a while.

The chair is here now, parked in the living room! I can see it from my bed, even. I can use it, but won't do any proper adventure attempts until after Thursday.

On Thursday we'll be sorting out:

The table with centered joystick. It's currently with the tech as he has to cut it to shape a bit and need workshop tools to do so. I wanted it to be smaller so I'm getting it smaller.

Adding minor hardware (aka metal bits and bobs used to attach extra parts) for some extra adjustment range on the lateral leg supports (aka padded blocks set against the side of my legs to help keep them in place).

Putting some foam wedges at the top of the backrest to make sure my shoulders and upper back have support all the way up.

The table makes a huge difference to me so I'm excited to get it back in its final form! ...almost final. I'll be adding stickers to it.

✿

Actually sitting in and using the chair, and getting to control my own mobility again

I sat in the chair for the fitting, then we went outside and I got to drive around the road we live on a bit, and we tested how going in and out through our pretty narrow entrance works for me. After the tech and the other guys on this case left, me and Ceora (my partner) went inside and I just stayed in the chair for a bit. I greatly enjoyed the ability to just enter the kitchen and stare blankly at the fridge before deciding I don't want anything anyway.

So overall I probably spent about 4 hours in the chair! And aside from very very cold feet I was okay, but that was just an underdressing problem. (3 layers of socks wasn't enough, apparently)

Most importantly I went up and down the road just outside and got to see and smell TREES and GRASS ohmygodhjdkahgdjklag!!! Controlling my own mobility again was euphoric 😭

For the past 10 months I've had no control of my own mobility, I've just been... trapped in place, completely unable to leave the spot I'm in. It messes with the mind and relation to my body quite a bit. So I hope and believe my big ol noggin will also benefit :D I'll still spend majority of my time in bed, and I can't transfer between bed and wheelchair on my own, but finally having the chance to regularly get up and in control of my mobility is huge.

✿

Oh, and it has a name!

I have named this wheelchair Katla.

The old powerchair was named Tekla, and my first chair, a manual self-propelled one, was named Petra.

So there's a strong theme here, hihi.

✿

Here's some photos!

Here's the two driving controls! In my table there's the joystick for me, it has a literal golf ball for me to grab. On the back of the chair there's an attendant control that people helping me can use when needed. It's that handle on the right. Supposedly very intuitive to use, you just move the whole handle side to side to turn, squeeze the small lever underneath to go forward, and push down the small lever to go backwards.

And here's the utility bondage! That's a horribly inappropriate term, but it's my term, and I am horribly inappropriate at times, so it's ok. The ankle cuffs are to prevent my feet from falling off the footplates or going too far out of place. The part around the ankle attaches to the footplate with two somewhat loose straps, so this does NOT interfere with happy feet wiggles :3

The seat has a hip belt for like. Hip position? Also to prevent sliding down. It's pretty standard. The chest harness thing is an X-shaped chest harness with 4 point attachments. It's honestly amazing how big of a difference it makes in keeping me stable, less wobbly, and feeling safer. And the backrest is very curved to give me stability all over my upper body.

And these are side supports! There's a pair by my thighs, a pair by my knees, and a pair by my elbows. The leg ones stop my legs from wibblywobbly and splooting in bad painful and injury-causing ways. The ones by my elbows stop my arms from falling off the armrest, which was a huge problem on my previous chair.

After thursday I'll try to get some photos outside :D And it'll be a slow journey to work up to using the chair as much as I want, to be able to do some more of the things I'd like to do.

Thank you for reading and caring 💜

[veryflirtytransportalate]

THESILVERSHROUD

"The Commonwealth will tremble before the might of the Silver Shroud." - The Silver Shroud, but actually just Sizzel

< PREVIOUS > . . . < NEXT >

It started with a ghoul. A kid. A radio.

Next thing I know I got a dame barking at me, legs like an advertisement, red dress screaming danger in the best way it could: "I knew you'd get yourselves in trouble," she said, eyes like daggers beneath a layer of smothering fear. Did I mention she was a woman? Yowza.

I snuffed a cigarette under my heel, another lit one already between my lips. "I am trouble." I tilted up my hat with the tip of my shishkabob. It fell off. No one said anything. "Where they got him at?"

"It's playing on the radio, oh, such a horrible looping-"

"Hey," I interrupted, "I took off my Pip-Boy to put on the costume. I ain't got radio."

"They're at the Milton General Hospital."

"...cool."

"Do you know where Fallon's Department Store is?"

"...how could I not?"

There was a pause.

"...hey ...Piper? ...hand me my Pip-Boy, will ya?" I sighed, and took out another cigarette. 200 years old, just like me, and fresh, just like me, but it's another source of death, a third similarity. The old world and the new are two sides of the same token, and the subway is here, and the conductor laughs.

The client laughed. They always do. "Need a light?"

I pulled closed the handle on my shish', the gas powered blade roaring to life as flames rippled like a wave of hungry lions. "Got one." The howl of the fire alarm drowned out the barks.

'This is... sorta just how Nick acts normally,'' I realized. I leapt without another word into the dark outside.

< Previous > . . . < Next >

First: Sizzel's signature weapon is the shishkabob. Did you know that? I keep it in a separate place to all other weapons I find, because it's her thing. It's why she's called Sizzel (in universe, again, out of universe, the name proceeded the signature). Lil' fun fact for ya'.

Second: The funking hair keeps clipping through the goddamn hat. You can see it in all those pictures, the black and white hardly hides it.

So glad to be done with this quest chain. Cause of the hat, mostly. Wish I got the bonus to damage from just the outfit and the tommy but no!

It did inspire me to open up Outfit Studio and see if I can't make some of this ship work. I know, if I'd done this before the pictures I'd have fixed the hat but I didn't realize how much the hat was destroying my soul until I saw these pictures come out so good.

A lot of things I download don't work for me: I like to make my characters kind of on the big and wide and stout side of things, but many mod creators seem to ere either on the default CBBE body shapes, or like, this model runway super super skinny look. Neither is inherently bad or wrong or evil, I'm not that whiney (I mean I am but not about this... at this moment, at least). It's not what I'm going for, though, so shoulders and upper chest and thighs always poke through, while cup sizes seem to run by default in the Double J area, and we're working with a solid A here.

Apparently Outfit Studio will let me actually augment individual outfits to better fit the body shape I have set up through Body Slide. Okay. Integration Cool. There's... not an obvious batch build function.

So this might... take a while.

See you on the other side, I guess.

< Previous > . . . < Next >

[scottdavenportphoto]

Crafting A Composite From Handheld Photos

If you enjoy posts like this, please support my work and support independent photography tutorials like this.

A technique I have shared multiple times on my channel is capturing several photos of the same scene and blending the best parts of each capture into a composite. And that works great when you’re on a tripod.

But what if there’s not enough time to set up your tripod?

In fast-changing, dynamic lighting or fleeting scenes, you may not have the luxury of time. You can still create composites to incorporate the best elements of multiple photos even when capturing handheld. There is a little more work involved in post, but nothing that our modern tools can’t handle.

Capturing The Frames

When you’re shooting handheld a small amount of movement between frames is inevitable. Yet when thinking about compositing, you can minimize the differences in framing between photos. Tuck your elbows into your body firmly and press the viewfinder against your eye slightly. You’re creating a “human tripod” with the points being your elbows and head.

Also. keep your focal length the same between frames, and resist the urge to tilt the camera. The more similar each individual photo is, the better the blending results in post will be.

Align The Images

In post, assess your images and choose the set of individual photos you need for your composite. In my example, I have everything I need in two photos. One has a pleasing curl of mist moving between the hills and another has more interesting wave action in the rocks.

In Lightroom, I select both images, right click and choose Edit > Open as Layers in Photoshop. If you use another laying package like ON1 Photo RAW or Affinity Photo, you can use those.

Once in Photoshop, each image is on its own layer. Select all the layers in the layer panel and choose Edit > Auto-Align Layers. Photoshop analyzes the individual images, finds prominent features and objects, and aligns the layers.

Note: You will likely see checkerboard patterns and (what appear to be) misalignments at the edges. Often, after layer alignment, some cropping is needed to trim away areas that do not have overlap.

Create The Composite With Masks

Finally, use layer masks to reveal the portions of each individual image you want included in your composite. I prefer to work from the bottom up. The bottom layer has most of what I want for the photo. With each layer above my “base”, I’ll apply a pure black mask (hide everything) and then use masking tools to reveal the portions of the top layer I want added to the composite.

In this example, I preferred the overall lighting in the whole photo on the image that captured the mist. I put the mist as my bottom, or base, layer. Then, I painted in just the wave action of the ocean for the upper layer.

Watch the video around the 03:20 mark to see the masking in action.

And there you go! Once the masking is done and the composite is created, you can continue editing the image. I recommend creating a new stamped layer with all of the visible pixels, and then applying adjustments to the single layer.

[woofmachine]

sometimes i see her

staring long and hard into the mirror above my sink

i see her, never for very long, definitely not long enough

right when i start to recognize her, to feel like shes truly here, something always gets in the way

a pronounced brow bone, gently receding hairline, both hidden carefully by bangs i cut too long and jagged on the hopes theyll do a better job of covering than they do

a bent, angular nose beneath sunken, sharp eyes

a jawline thats almost cute at one or two very specific angles but the moment you shift fills you with a cold pain

too wide

too angular

too sharp

and the shadow

that fucking shadow

figures, doesnt it, i was never very hairy but itd take a fool to think thatd save me from growing a beard

still they grow

prickly, coarse, abrasive

it feels like, a punishment of sorts, like i have some oppressive karmic debt to pay off and the fuck in charge decided the best way to make me pay it is pushing needles out of my face

not that thats the worst part, oh no

its not comfortable, dont get me wrong, but ive been uncomfortable before

every time i brush against my face and hear the velcro krrkt my blood freezes, when a hair catches the inside of my mask its all i can do to not scream

but that fucking shadow

i started shaving with a safety razor years ago, the story i told my family was some bullshit about sensitive skin and cost effectiveness of having fresh sharp blades

really i just needed a closer shave, i needed to get them off, cut them shorter so its harder to feel them

it never lasts long

but standing there rubbing lotion into my freshly shaven face i can close my eyes and almost see her again

smooth skin, full lips, doesnt it feel nice to just grab her by the chin, feel your hands wrap acro

fuck

missed a spot

like i always fucking do i missed a spot

feverishly i pick up the razor and let it take a few more passes, these ones are.. rough

typically the soap helps the razor glide, its not fully comfortable or fully painless but its a far sight from the jittering and jumping and biting into the soft flesh under the tip of my chin its doing now, i know better than to take dry swipes but, yknow what they say, beauty is pain

besides ive come to get used to the pain, the irritiation, the nicks and cuts

sometimes i like it

done right safety razors can easily give you a smooth and close shave without much irritation but

i cant seem to stop putting in too much pressure, begging the razor to reach a little deeper, take those hairs off a little shorter, inventing gods to pray to for just a little more time as her before the illusion is shattered again

not that any of this helps with the shadow

the stubble, the texture, catching on things and itching and reminding me of what i am, what body im forced to inhabit

that can be shaved away, sure never for long, never long enough

but the shadow

it doesnt matter how close i shave, how much i lean onto the razor, the simple fact of the matter is theres always hair left behind, just under the surface, visible and taunting

but the longer i stare.. the more it seems like those damned hairs.. arent that deep after all, like all i have to do is shave a little closer.. cut them off a little deeper...

im still holding the razor

i look at it, at the single blade, precisely sharpened and made to fit neatly into the handle, two sided, so you have twice as long before it dulls, before it drags and snags and fails to cut hair

before i realize it its on my face

poised to shave a layer off of my upper lip, my moustache has taunted me, blue gray and so very visible no matter the lighting or distance, a smudge of color, so minor in the scheme of things but which she gets lost behind so often

the razor, predictably, jitters and jumps

i should have gotten the soap back out, should have lathered up to make this smooth

but id already tried that, and here we are

it didnt take long for the razor to bite in, to nick, just by the cupids bow

the blood slowly beads before gently rolling into my mouth and the gentle tang of copper gets me back into the present

where the razor bit i could see the base of a hair, sometimes, between beads of blood

thats so close.. if i went just a little deeper

and that wasnt so bad, right?

i can do more

after a shaky breath i find myself pressing the safety razor to the spot once more, angling back and forth to get the blade to bite, and i slowly dig in and pull off a short strip of skin

the hair is in it

the root of it, not just some of the shaft not just a little bit thatll be back soon

i took the whole thing out

the sense of relief, of pure unfiltered ease, was intense

i never have to worry about that hair again, not about the texture, the prickling, not even about the shadow, im free

but of course it was short lived, as it always is

next to the now fixed spot on my face were others, many many others, that was merely a drop in a bucket, one tree in a forest and im still far from free

what if.....

the razor works at the edge of the hole, quietly widening it and pulling off another strip of skin, this one larger, and in that patch

more hairs

i cant remember the last time ive seen her smile like this

a big toothy grin, so pure and overjoyed, it extends upward and crinkles at the corners of her eyes, it takes me a moment to even notice just how much blood there is pooling around her teeth

last fall maybe? when she got too drunk and giggly and tried on a dress for the first time?

or maybe it was when her friend did her makeup for her, eyeshadow and liner and shimmer and all these strange products, it still seems like a deep dark magic to her, magic shed never been able to get right on her own

shes beautiful when she smiles

im still holding the razor

i pull the blade out of the handle, this is gonna be hard enough work without fighting the angles, but this does make it harder to hold

its always intrigued me how the first thing you feel when being cut is a sort of a tugging sensation, like the blade is catching in the flesh, being pulled out of place before finally giving and parting under the steel, then comes the sharpness and a severing of nerves, a bright, high pain, and the coolness of fresh flesh, wet by blood, exposed to air the way it was never meant to

strip by strip, hair by hair, i start at the center of my upper lip and work outwards, when the blood slicks the razor blade it becomes harder to hold and i feel the back end bite into my fingers, shifting and cutting and shifting again, gnawing the flesh off the bone as it wiggles in my grasp as i work

my face burns, each new cut agonizing and cruel, but slowly i can see it

the patch of raw flesh, unmarred by that fucking shadow, slowly grows, and the weight of it lifting makes my head swim

i couldnt tell you how long ive been standing in this bathroom, slowly piling my useless, infested tissue in the sink, i couldnt tell you how many times i almost fainted, catching myself on the towel bar, sitting on the toilet while my face quietly dripped into my lap

finally it was done and that face, raw and slick, was smiling a wide, cheshire grin

but

wait

now this isnt right either

i can see her but shes

incomplete

my skin hangs off the top half of my face

ragged

a haphazard, shoddy mask, hiding her, blocking her beauty behind a bent nose, a deep brow bone

its a crime really, shes so close but so far

im still holding the razor

[flightlessangelwings]

Kinktober Day 3- Glove Kink

Boba Fett x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 1.2k

Warnings- smut (18+ only), fingering, established relationship, throne sex, brief reference to exhibitionism, slight possessiveness

Notes- Can never go wrong with some throne sex with Boba! It’s been so long since I’ve written for him and I miss him! List provided by @the-purity-pen​

To say up to date on when I post, follow my update blog too and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates​​

~

“That’s the last one for today, sir,” the droid bid Boba a farewell after a long day of meeting with constituents. 

Boba sat on his throne and sighed from exhaustion. He used to travel from planet to planet chasing bounties, and yet sitting on Jabba’s old throne felt like harder work. He looked over to his side and saw his helmet sitting on the soft cushion, his only companion in the now empty room. Boba’s hands drifted down to his hands, but the thought he was was interrupted when a familiar and welcome voice.

“Boba?” you tentatively approached his throne, “You alright?”

His eyes trailed up your figure and he sighed deeply as a smile flashed on his face, “I am now, love,” he extended his hand to you, “Come here,” his tone dropped as a flame lit up behind his eyes.

A shiver ran up your spine as you placed your bare hand in his gloved one and let him guide you into his lap. Instead of sitting on your side like he anticipated, you straddled his waist and placed your legs on either side of his body. Boba’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as you were face to face with him, your legs folded on either side of his as you cupped his face.

“How can I help you, Boba?” your voice was low as you smirked at gaining the upper hand for now. You slowly rocked your hips against his and savored the rumble that reverberated from deep in his chest.

“Careful love,” he warned, “Are you sure you can handle what you’re asking for?”

It was a game the two of you played, and one you both excelled at. You loved to tease him, and you especially loved when you frustrated him enough to pin you down and have his way with you. And Boba loved to push you to your limits, but never so much that you couldn’t be brought back. He always took care of you afterwards too, which was both your favorite parts some nights.

You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest. Boba immediately ran his thumb across your nipple through the fabric as you bucked your hips against his, “I can handle anything you throw at me, Boba,” you purred.

He huffed softly, “I know you can, love.”

Boba reached around your body and grabbed your ass with his free hand. In tandem, he kneaded your body and watched as soft moans spilled from your lips. His cock hardened under your body as you rubbed yourself against him, desperate for more.

“So lovely,” Boba praised you as he leaned forward and kissed his way along your neck.

“Boba…”

The hand that cupped your ass moved to your front and worked to push the fabric away. He hissed when he saw that you made it easy for him today by wearing less layers than usual. By just parting the top layer, you were completely exposed to him, and Boba saw the way your pussy clenched around nothing.

“Eager today, aren’t we?” Boba’s deep chuckle went right to your core and you whimpered as you clung to him.

Without removing his gloves, Boba cupped your pussy, and even though the leather he could feel how wet you were. 

“Very eager, I see,” Boba smirked as he rubbed slow circles on your clit with his gloved finger.

“Boba…” you breathed as you lifted your hips for him and clung to his shoulders. 

“Yes love?” Boba got that cocky tone in his voice whenever you surrendered yourself to him, “Tell me what you want?”

“I want…” you gasped when he pushed his finger against your clit a little harder, “Fuck me with your fingers, Boba… With the gloves on.”

He paused as he cupped your face, “Are you sure, love?”

You swallowed hard and nodded, “I’m sure.”

Boba kept eye contact with you, and for several long moments, he didn’t move. You were about to ask if he was alright when suddenly you felt the roughness of his leather gloved finger at your entrance. Your mouth dropped open as he slowly and carefully pushed a single gloved finger inside of you.

When your eyes threatened to close, Boba grabbed your chin in a tight grip, “Eyes on me, love,” he growled, “Let me watch you.”

It was difficult, but you fought to keep your eyes open and connected with his while he pushed his finger the rest of the way into you. Your muscles held onto his leather-clad finger in a vice grip as you felt yourself get wetter by the second. Boba’s fingers were thick on their own, but the added girth and texture of the glove added to the sensations. 

With precise movements, Boba pumped his finger in and out of you slowly, and he savored every little reaction from you. Moans flowed freely as you rocked your hips in time with his fingers, and you tightened your grip on him and fought to keep your eyes open. The roughness of the leather drove you wild and your mind swam in bliss.

“Another finger…” you begged as you moved your hands to the back of Boba’s neck, “Please.”

Boba loved it when you begged for him, and he couldn’t deny you whenever you did. With a groan of your name, he carefully pulled his finger out so that only the tip stayed inside you and added a second finger. Slowly, he guided your hips down so that two gloved fingers now filled you, and the cry you let out echoed in the empty throne room.

“Careful love… Someone could hear,” Boba warned.

“Let them,” you moaned as you bounced on his fingers, “Let them hear how good you make me feel.”

Boba’s cock twitched in his pants, “As much as I’d like that, you’re still mine… Only mine.”

“Only yours, Boba,” you rested your forehead against his as he adjusted his hand so that he could rub your clit with his thumb. You let out another loud cry as tears pricked the corners of your eyes and he knew you were close.

“You better cum then, love,” Boba groaned, “Before someone wants to watch.”

“Oh fuck… Boba…” the feeling of his gloved fingers inside you and against your clit was almost too much. And paired with the low voice of your lover, it only took a few more thrusts of his fingers to send you over the edge.

Boba’s lips covered yours to muffle the scream you let out as you came on his lap. Your eyes finally shut as you rode out your climax on his fingers, and he growled when he felt you gush into his hand. He kept up his steady rhythm until you were worn out and collapsed down against his chest.

Slowly, Boba pulled his fingers out of you, whispering soft praises for how good you were the whole time. He wrapped his arms around you and just held you close for several moments, just savoring the warmth of your body against his. He almost forgot about his own need until you bucked your hips against him and lifted yourself to meet his gaze.

You closed the gap between your faces in a quick, but heated kiss before you shimmied yourself onto the ground in between Boba’s parted knees, “Your turn,” you purred.

[chaotic-nick]

Note: I wanted to post this on the day of the deadline, but I got sick after getting behind on all my assignments. Thank you so much, Monica (@we-are-so-close) for letting me use your request as my entry for the collab! I hope you enjoy these

Warnings: Jean and reader flirt with each other 'as friends'. Blowjob at the end. Talks of hookup culture from Reader's side about Reiner. Blowjob at the end. Both of them are switches.

Event: Reader's in charge collab by @smfics

WC:3080

Acquaintances.

It’s what they are ever since Sasha brought her over about eight months ago. The first two months were awkward. She was just pretty, oozing a confident air around her even when she hasn’t said anything. Jean was all shy around her even going as far as hiding in the kitchen of Connie’s apartment where they always hung out on weekends with the excuse of cooking for all of them.

When she poked her head in and asked if she could help one afternoon, the air of awkwardness disappeared. She was already quiet in her own world, washing the dishes he had used.

Though, soon after that, the casual air that lingered between them after the awkward stage turned into something they both felt. A strong sexual tension, their eyes avoiding each other and heat blossoming to their faces after accidental skin contact.

Friends. Nothing more than that.

But the line between it started to blur so much so that he felt like he lied to himself. Jean didn’t run to the kitchen anymore when he heard the knock on the door of Connie’s apartment, instead, he adjusted himself on the couch so she could straight to sitting on his lap. “Hey,” she would sing, making herself comfortable that Connie nudged Sasha's side. “Did you have a good day?” He would ask, making habit of tapping her nose ‘boop’ to see that little scrunch she did with her face.

“Yup.”

If there was a tangible line between friends, it would be made out of the thinnest material that allowed them to move about. Acting like a couple. Friends don’t text exclusively at night, talking about their dreams and life, nor do they ignore everyone else in the room just to be with each other.

Jean would be an expert at that, he’s been the punching bag between Sasha and Connie for the longest time.

Of course, both of them are idiots, too. Making jokes that had too many layers— making the two of them blush even. “I mean I think, I can and will handle all of you . . .”

“You sound unsure, babe.” He doesn’t remember when he started calling that either, only remembering that she was comfortable being called that. Only by him though. She almost kicked Connie after he called her the same.

A shrug and her chin were on the crook of his neck, feeling her lips move against his skin. “Don’t wanna brag but I’ve taken bigger.” Her eyes watched the screen of his Ipad, watching the timelapse of his painting. “I’m open to being proved wrong though.”

It was always like that.

At work when he removed his attention from the spreadsheet, he found himself looking down on his phone. Hoping that there was a message from her. Or when at every party, he always thought of going home after downing a single can when she was late. Quickly sticking up to her side when she arrived.

Though when they were together, they occupied a couch. Always stuck together even if there was enough space, no one could break them apart. Her upper body leaning on him and her head balanced on his thigh, his fingers drumming along her thigh.

Just like now.

Jean’s right hand, loud with the new addition of rings on his fingers, rested on her inner thigh with an arm around her torso. She almost never attended, complaining that everything was in the wash and she had nothing party-appropriate to wear. And arrived in only a pair of jeans old from being washed with a white shirt, almost a size to small. “Wow, this was big on me when I was in college.”

She had nothing decent to wear?

Bullshit.

Her effect on him came stronger to him seeing how thin her shirt was stretched across her, the pendant of her necklace disappearing into her cleavage, poked through the thin material of her shirt. He noticed quickly that it wasn’t only him who was affected, scanning the room in search of the blond, Jean found Reiner standing idly at the corner where Connie and Eren played a game of blindfolded arm-wrestling.

“Reiner’s eye-fucking you,” he made a show of leaning down to whisper against the crown of her head when he caught Reiner break away from the game, uninterested to stare at (Y/n). Probably with the same cloud of lust in his mind.

“Hey, for someone as blind as me, it’s impressive that he can see me from that far.” A pout when she finally looked up from her phone. “Probably wants to fuck again.”

His fingers stilled at the pang of jealousy, eyes that almost closed from the day’s worth of work opened as he processed her words. Fuck? Repeating it in his mind let the possessiveness boil his blood. Again? That made the blood spill all over.

Disbelief as he asked, slowly, “You guys did it?”

“About a year ago.” She went back to playing with the filters on her phone, not looking as bothered as he was. “Think it was— ya, just a month and it’s been a year since.”

A year ago. He repeated. They didn’t know each other back then . . . does that mean that he met her first? How close were they that— no, it’s obvious that they don’t talk anymore. In Jean's mind, there was an internal war of what he should ask her first, they were to an extent, close, there wouldn’t be a problem asking her the details or why . . . right?

Cut off by the reflection on her phone that she raised to take a picture of the two of them. Head on his chest. “You guys really did it?” He asked again, this time, her eyes met his and hurt in her face.

“Not the one to kiss and tell, but god, my hips hurt after that. Like a week, and he wanted something more. Saw the sex as a sign and yeah, avoided him.”

“Really?”

It shouldn’t be making him fume with so much anger that Reiner had the audacity to look her way like that after all the parties Jean shamelessly let (Y/n) rest on him. It was her who chose to sit next to him. And only him. “Gets too into it and forgets I’m human.”

“I’m always a call away you know.” Who gave Reiner the false hope that she’d still acknowledge him.

Instead, she only moved her phone at an angle for the filter to recognise her face. The hand resting on her thigh began moving up after Jean had made sure that Reiner watched them.

“My hand looks good around your throat.” He said in a tone too serious to be even taken as a joke.

The shock on her face wore off as she moved away from his lap, sitting upright. She bit her lip, to keep her giggle in. “Agree. But at least be a gentleman and ask me out first.” Still, the hand wrapped around her neck stayed there, her hands holding his wrists almost getting a feel of the new necklace. Such a contrast between their skin made him feel aroused, the type where he forgot how to function even.

“Then can I take you out?” He managed, taking his hand away from her throat before he lost all decency and kissed her then and there.

“You sly fucker.” She stood up, hooking her hand into his belt loop to have a hold on him as they navigated out the house.

“I’d rather fuck you.”

“Thought I needed to call you first?”

“I’m already here, aren’t I?” Outside the brisk air cooled their napes. “I need to call an uber, hold o—” a soft kiss on the side of his lips cut him off.

She held his jaw for him to look at her and whispered, “My house is walking distance from here.”

Her house was nearer compared to his condo in the capital. By default it’s where they went, not much was said as he followed her, only his hand being held in hers as they walked ahead. When they got there, she excused herself to the bathroom, telling him that he should make himself at home.

How could he bring himself to do that though? He was raised decently enough to act like a guest. The other was well, his heart was pounding. All this talk of being big and how he’d make her cry in bed . . . sure.

While there was some truth to it—

—Jean could only do that to the women who entertained for the night. He knew that well. That’s why he booked the cheapest hotels to fuck them, bringing them home was another level of an emotional connection.

Nothing more than that.

Though with (Y/n), he berated himself for only realising that there would be a different outcome. What if he does the things Reiner did? Now, he understood him, she just had the effect on them. No, worse. What if one fuck was enough to ruin their friendship.

Deep in thought in her bedroom when he should be looking around, the sound of the water running from the showers was muted. All his senses focused on the floor that he didn’t smell the expensive perfume on her when she emerged from the bathroom until she slowly walked toward him. “Jean?”

Sex.

That was the arrangement. Why they were almost naked in the confinement of her apartment, lit by a soft glow of lights. Foreseen with how much flirting they’ve done under the guise of joking around like Connie and Sasha when one of them called out their actions.

A finger to his chin when he didn’t hear up to tip him up her, “Jean?” Concern laced in her face as if she wasn’t standing clad in only a towel that barely reached the middle of her thigh.

“I’m sorry,” a high-pitched tone as he slid off her bed and down to the floor. His face was hot and the tips of his ears were red. “I— I . . .” Flustered, his eyes averted to anywhere and everywhere just so he could avoid her face. Worse, he briefly saw that her towel didn’t cover anything behind before she sat on her bed, waiting for him to finish talking.

“You don’t wanna do it anymore? It’s alright, you know.” Her doe-like eyes didn’t hold anything, unlike all the times she flirted back with him.

“Ugh,” he hung his head low. Bringing up his hands to his face. Why was she making this hard? “No, you’re just . . . you! It’d suck if we hated each other after this.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah.”

He heard her shuffle about in her bed as if she put all the pillows to the side and threw the stuffed animals to the end or somewhere in the room, before she joined him on the floor. Kneeling in front of him, her hair tied up that the first thing he saw was her collarbones rather than her eyes when he removed his hands.

“You’re really cute when your confidence hits rock bottom, huh.”

“What?”

“There you are,” she smiled, knees settling comfortably on the floor to support her weight. “Can I kiss you, Jean?”

“Please.” Gone was the fuck he gave with sounding so desperate. He’ll show her the effect she had on him.

Closing his eyes when her soft lips met his, pulling away when their noses bumped at an awkward angle and back to them again, his tense shoulders relaxed. It was bliss, really. Having her this close was only something he imagined would happen, never really coming true. ‘Am I dreaming?’ The hand on the floor beside him, went up to hold her face the other pinching her chin to let his tongue in.

“Fuck,” she pulled away, equally as flustered as he was with their saliva connecting before it landed on his torso. Only a whisper as her knees caged him, pushing him down on the floor. “Again.”

It was far from a simple innocent kiss time, using her forearms to balance herself as their mouths melded together, moaning in satisfaction into his confirmed that she too, felt that way. Both their hearts pounding against each other, she was almost selfish for not wanting to pull away.

Dazed her eyes were half-lidded when her head rose, panting. Sparing a glance to poor Jean below her, (Y/n) didn’t think twice before cradling his face in her hand. “Say ah—” she said, letting the mix of their drool fall into his waiting mouth while her hand—

“Jesus Christ— ack! (Y/n).” he jerked forward at her cold hand cupping the bulge in his boxers, nearly pushing her off him if he hadn’t placed his hand on her back. She feigned innocence, something he learnt that she was best at. Pouting, too.

“Woah,” her hand moved slowly in rubbing him. “You weren’t lying . . . you know? When you said you were big?”

Embarrassment won, head resting on the floor. Grumbling, “Cause I’m erect.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” his expression was hard. In deep thought, eyebrows furrowed. He did really want her to drool all over him like that again though. Would it be more humiliating to ask her to do that again than opening his mouth? “Tell me what you want to do?”

“You’re the nervous one here,” her hand rested on his thigh now, using it to push herself up. Still straddling him and only in her towel. “Come to think of it we never talked about anything we liked, it was just you and big cock—” a smirk downward ”—hopefully. So what do you like?”

“Don’t answer me with a question.”

“Shut up, I’ll spit on you like that again—” Fuck that was hot.

“What’s with you and spitting? C’mon, tell me what you want to do, (Y/n).”

“It’s my house we’re in, I’m the guest here.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “Guests should be entertained.”

“(Y/n) . . .” he sat up with a run of his fingers through his hair.

“What, horsecock?”

“In situations like these, I’m not the guest—” “A prostitute then.”

They shared a look. One that was thrown between them when they were apart from each other in a room and someone had done something stupid. (Sometimes it was Eren being a clueless boyfriend and disappointing poor Mikasa again) Under the soft glow of the lamp, casting shadows on their faces.

And laughed, spreading a familiar warmth over the worry that made both their hearts run too quickly.

“You know what?” She moved to sit on the bed, patting the space next to it. “We’re cuddling.”

“HA?”

“I’ll be naked, and you stay you.” She grinned looking at the boxers that can only contain as much. And bit her lip. “Yeah, just stay like that.”

Following her, Jean gulped. Somehow his feet forgot to stand on their own when he stood up, almost swaying to the side, dazed from whatever was laced in her words— he didn’t have anything more than a can of beer, but he was surely drunk on her. The softness of the mattress and the blanket she pulled over them brought warmth.

“Now what?” (Y/n) took the hand that twirled her hair, guiding it to her rest on her torso

“We take it slow,” a hypocrite with how she moved her hips closer to him. Moving at a pace that would kill any guy. “Like this.”

Catching on, Jean used the hand his head rested to snake it under her, calloused fingers lightly stroking the flesh of her mould as his mouth ghosted over her neck. A fingertip, roughed up from the sports he had played, flicked a nipple. “Really slow, huh.” He bit into her neck, lavishing her scent as his eyes fluttered shut, choosing to savour a moment he only imagined. He continued abusing her nipple as her feet padded against the comforter at the end of the bed, her eyes squeezed shut and her breaths shallow. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Mhm—” another sigh after he tried his luck in licking her collarbone, grazing it with his teeth. “Yes please.”

Distracted with wanting her to feel good and chasing the selfish title of being the only one who made her cum by playing with her nipples alone, Jean didn’t notice her stray hand trailing down until his boxers were pulled down. His cock sprang free from the restraint, hitting the inside of her thigh. A sharp breath with his eyes opening wide open when her nimble fingers wrapped his cock, thumb on his tip. “Can I?” She asked in a false innocent tone as if she wasn’t torturing him with the mere feel of her thumb. Smearing his pre-cum to coat his cock.

“Ah shit, if you keep— ” his breath hitched, leaving him with a screen of his tears in his eyes, looking blanky at her. His mouth slacked open, finding the right words to tell her to stop. Just like that he’d throw away the ‘cool guy’ image he put up for her for so long. But each stroke of her hand around his cock proved to be difficult. “If you keep going like that, I’ll cum quick.”

A sinister smile after how desperate he sounded spread on her face, urging her to go faster.

Then slower.

A confusing pace that kept him on edge, “(Y/n), I’ll cum quick, re-really . . .” he panted, one hand gripping her forearm and gis forehead on the back of her shoulder, breathing fast.

“And?”

“You don’t like that . . .”

“But if you cum fast, I’ll taste all of you,” she stopped, allowing him to breathe before removing herself from him to plant her knees deep in the mattress. Mouth opening for her tongue to dart out, slowly licking under his tip. “Right, Jean?”

Admitting defeat, Jean let his shoulders relax. Only realising how much he had sweat from holding himself back. “Ye-yes, ma’am.”

“Oh,” that sparked something in her, a flood of new energy urging her to . . . torture him more. Enveloping her hand in the length she might not take in, (Y/n) flicked her eyes toward him as she lowered her face again. “I never thought I’d hear you say that—” lips closing around his tip, “— fuck, that was hot.” She closed her eyes, wanting more and selfishly took in what she could.

Maybe she can keep playing with him for longer then.

taglist: @stigandr-the-cat @ghost-party @ack3rlady @sukosie @blondeboyfriend @rowsn @killerbananas @petitachi @takemetofarlanchurch @axoxtxhxh @sinnerofthewalls @jeansmainhoe

[fatfantacies]

Weve eaten ourseleves up to 615-630 pounds and now were attempting to get together. Sometimes i attempt to lift my gut onto your ass ass so you can attempt to do your thing. Both of our bodies wobble at the slightest movement. Our rolls are pressed up against each other. I love that most of your weight goes to your belly and thighs. The bed starts to sag under out combined weight. I wonder how its going to handle us both getting even bigger.

We struggle to sit on the sofa together because were so wide. We must have the strongest couch on earth because we’re rather hefty humans. I know were both looking forward to this being the social norm and most people would never be 400 pounds. As I watch your pig tails bounce against your tennis ball sized cheeks and your chins wobbling as you chew, I think back to when I first met you. I watch in wonder watching you absentmindedly bringing the fork to your mouth again and again. Youve eaten almost the entire two layer chocolate cake. Your plump limps are covered in chocolate and I want to kiss them so badly, but first I want to indulge myself, looking back on watching you grow to this size.

Your mother wad disgusted when she met me. I was already 300 pounds when you introduced us. You were a slim 165 pounds. Your mother couldnt stop commenting on size, making snide comments when I would come over for dinner. You starting to express and interest in gaining weight and being fed, so I started to introduce you to my world. You took to it right away, digging in to every dish you could get your hands on and with an office job for 45 hours a week and fast food for at least 2 meals a day was producing quick results. You loved the freedom to eat. I wasnt gaining, wanting to focus more on her gain.

It didnt take long for her to reach 200 pounds. She said she loved it and wanted to get bigger. “I wanna gain 50 pounds in three months.” “I can help with that i just bought us a few sheet cakes, a few pounds of pasta and 15 bags of pre fried chicken. She jiggles my upper belly roll. Looks like a little bigger. “Tell you what, well both weigh ourselves in six months to see how much weve gained. Im not going actively gain mind you.” I watched as she stepped on the scale spun around to 275 pounds. “Oh my god! I felt like id totally ballooned but i had no idea! I cant wait until i get to 300 pounds! Ill be too heavy for this scale then and will have to borrow your big boy one! I dont think that ill be outgrowing that one anytime soon. I love my soft curves and i have every intention of making them even softer!”

“What about you tubby? Looks like you’ve gained a few pounds yourself!” “What gives it away?” “The fact that you can barely button those shorts?” I chuckle and step onto my scale. “Whats the number say? Im having trouble reading it.” “380 pounds. I think youd be quite a catch at 400.” “Youre a terrible influence on me! You just want me to be a big fat pig!” “While I would find you adorable at that size, lately ive been thinking of myself gaining to that size and wondering how it feels. Who knows, i might decide to get even fatter. For now im loving eating and expanding with you. My world is full of flavour and freedom now.” The idea of seeing her at 400 pounds just set me on fire. I dont want to even think how huge Ill be when shes 400 pounds. “Do you want to take this into the bedroom? Maybe feed each other some chocolates and fondle each others growing rolls?”

Shed discovered ice cream and cake mix shakes and it was then i knew that my girlfriend was going to end up bigger than a beached whale. She would chug one of the shakes twice a day. She was going through clothes rapidly, so we got her stretchy clothes she could grow into. By the time September rolled around, 6 months have gone by and both of us had really packed on the pounds, but her more than I. She really stared to widen in the hips and the thighs, her belly filling up more of her lap when she sat.

One day your mother came to visit. She couldnt believe how fat you had gotten. “Oh my God what have you done to my daughter! Shes double the size she was when she met you! I expected him to continue to make a pig out of himself but I was hoping you would drop him before his bad habits rubbed off on you and you started swelling up as big as a house!” “Do you have any idea how much you weigh?” She shrugs her chunky shoulders. “Were going to find out right now and were going to get you on a diet plan before you end up the size of a parade float!” I watch, trying to hide my arousal and my girl steps on the scale. “325 pounds! My God what is he doing to you?” “I’m happy, mom.” “I think youre confusing huge and happy!”

“You know what, mom? I hope the next ten pounds I gain goes right to my face. Ive always liked that overfilled balloon look, that way it looks like my cheeks are constantly bursting with food even when Im asleep.” I watch as her mother storms out of the house screaming that it isnt over. You turn to face me. I wonder how much fatter im going to be when she comes to visit again?

She squeezes my round moob. “I love how fat these are getting. Maybe when you gain more weight youll catch up with me!” She takes my hand and rubs it against her stomach. “She hasnt seen huge yet. What do you say we go do a bulk shopping snack trip? But before that…why dont you see what youre tipping thr scales at. My hips and stomach wobble like jello as I get up on the scale. “You have such a cute waddle starting! I hope it gets cuter as you gain more! I hope we can have matching waddles!” “Well have to wobble and waddle behind each other, we’ll be too wide to do it next to each other! The dial settles at 425 pounds. “Were gonna need a more heavy duty scale if we wanna keep eating like we do.”

By our third anniversary i was well over 500 pounds and she was well over 400. Some days i would look in the mirror ans see how massive i was getting but it didnt bother me. I chose to stuff an extra cheeseburger in my mouth and tell myself that a mans gotta eat. I probably should have been concerned that I was having trouble waddling around the office, but that didnt stop me from taking an extra large slice of ice cream cake at my co workers birthday party.

We were invited to a wedding ans needed to spend some time shopping around for outfits, especially since I was rapidly becoming supersized. My co worker assured me that they would have two chairs that would be able to support both me and my girl. I assured him that we could also eat before the wedding so he wouldnt go broke attempting to fill us both up.

“You look adorably enormous in your suit.” She rubbed my stuffed belly with her chubby hand. “God I need to undo the buttons on my jacket before my stomach decided to do it for me. i didnt realise how fast I was porking up; i should have realised with all the delivery food weve been eating lately. “I love how fat that necklace makes your neck look. “Youre not wearing a bra!” “The girls got too big for the cups. And anyway the band was cutting too much into my sides.” “I cant wait until your roll of back fat stretches the next band to its limits until it bursts open unable to contain all of your sexiness.” “You really know how to pamper a piggy.”

For my birthday and to celebrate her reaching 500 pounds, she found a 5x catholic school girls outfit to indulge a fantasy of mine. I watched as she waddled through the doorway, I realised she should have probably gone a size up as the waistband failed to contain her. Her fat laden calfs were squeezed into white stockings. The white blouse she had on, shed obviously outgrown as it failed to cover her expansive breasts and belly. And she did her hair in the pigtails! She knows how I love how it makes her face look even rounder than it is. My morbidly obese woman, who at this rate couldnt do anything to stop herself from swelling fatter. “What do you think?”

We ran into her mother when we were our for dinner on our fourth anniversary. It took her a few minutes to realise who we were because we were both over 200 pounds heavier than the last time she saw us. She looked in horror as she really took in the size of us for the first time in quite a while. We both needed two chairs to sit. We filled up the sides of the table we occupied. Her mother saw the piles of dishes on the edge of the table. “No wonder that you two are the size of planets. I never thought that my daughter would grow so enormous that she needs her own zip code. I suppose you two arent coming to her younger brothers graduation? Worried that it would be too much waddling for you? I suppose we could get a few ushers each to roll you two around.”

[noteguk]

bro bad influence! jk and reader are 100% the type of couple to argue mid-sex i love this culture

They are!!!!

Taglist: @ft-multi @cryinginmypromdress @kooafraid @kissestothesky @dianaaviny @ggukkieland

[ ! ] this drabble is for “bad influence” — it can, however, be read as a standalone. 

— words; 1.8k

— contents and warnings; hmmm smut, semi-public sex, oral (m rec and mention of f rec), unprotected sex, dirty talk, mention of cum play, playfully “arguing” mid-sex, the endless adventures of bad boy!jk x good girl! reader

~

“I can’t believe you, Jungkook,” your voice came out as an irritated murmur against the warm skin of his neck, barely interrupted by a soft whimper. “We’re gonna be late for class.”

His hand grew tighter around your thigh, pushing your leg higher up. Jungkook was buried deep between your folds, filling you up in every way that you loved, and yet you were a bit too paranoid to fully dive into those sensations. “Hmmm don’t care,” he groaned, the slaps of his skin against yours filling that small cabinet in a rhythmic symphony. Twice already, a broom had fallen on top of you, knocking you right on the forehead, and so you refused to let it go. That entire scene was ridiculous. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he moaned. 

You rolled your eyes, amazed at how he managed to ignore everything else but the feeling of your walls clenching around him. The fact that you two were having a quickie in the janitor’s closet, exactly fifteen minutes before your most important class, was bad enough as it was. Your escapade was far from heavenly, with the stiff air impregnated by the nauseating aroma of a hundred different chemical products, the annoyingly flickering lightbulb over you, and, as stated, the paraphernalia that was knocked over every time Jungkook’s thrusts got a little too rough. 

“God, why are you like this?” you complained. 

He hummed, his fingers digging into your flesh. You could tell that Jungkook was starting to lose himself in you, for the roll of his hips started to get slower, less coordinated, as they always did when he was trying to prolong his pleasure. “Like what?” He breathed out.

You leaned your head back against the wall, looking at those devilish eyes of his. Jungkook’s hair was a mess, exploding around his head like a failed scientific experiment, and you knew that one look was all it took to know that it was sex hair. “Why do you always have to pick the worst time to do this stuff?” you clarified. 

He scoffed. “Excuse me, princess, I think it was you who locked us in here,” he said. He wasn’t wrong, but, to be fair, you weren’t expecting that your make-out session would escalate to that. Then again, you were often naive when it came to his antics. “Now stay quiet or people are going to hear you.”

“Fuck off,” you whispered — whispered, because he was right. You had been controlling your moans and whimpers fairly well, but your normal speaking voice wasn’t a good idea either. There was no way to lock the room from the inside, and anyone could open that door at any given second. 

Jungkook smirked like he knew what you were thinking about — that fucked-out, greek god smirk that had your knees weak for a second. His face was bathed by the golden light from the bulb, dripping in shadows and lustful gazes. “Wrong answer,” he teased. “You were supposed to say ‘Oh, Jungkook, I can’t keep quiet when you’re fucking me so well’.”

As if to prove his claim, Jungkook placed his face on the crook of your neck and pressed himself even deeper inside you. The feeling of his cock stretching you open was intoxicating, and the timid moan you let out was enough to make him throb inside you, gasping against the sweet scent of your hair. 

Still, you wouldn’t bulge. “Gooood, shut up, please,” you whined, interlacing your fingers in his hair. There was a thin layer of sweat on his nape, the expected result from fucking in a hot, closed-off enviroment. “Are you close?”

“Yeah, almost there,” he moaned, picking his pace back up. You had to bite your lip to suppress a particularly loud moan after one of his hands slithered up your abdomen and grabbed your clothed breast, playing with it as he continued to seek his own high. His other hand still had its iron grip on your thigh, keeping your leg up as he continued to pound himself in and out of your wet heat. “Fuck, I love these skirts you wear. Easy access.” 

“You’re such a caveman,” you said. Jungkook was breathing heavy against your ear, fighting for air as he mumbled sweet nothings just for you. You were almost overtaken by him — the pounding of his cock inside your pussy, his delicious moans and curses, the praises that he threw your way for being so good for him. Almost. “Don’t cum inside.”

Jungkook visibly tensed up at your request. You could tell that some part of his primitive brain was thinking of repeating one of his past endeavours — one that he came inside you, and made you walk around campus with his cum in you for the rest of the day. It was really hard to keep an upper hand when Jungkook was always knowingly smirking at you from across the room, loving the way that only the two of you knew of that little nasty secret. 

(Miraculously, it was one of the few times that he didn’t feel slightly jealous when he saw you talking to other guys, but you didn’t have to know that). 

Still, you weren't wearing pants that day, so the whole ordeal wouldn’t be so easy to hide. 

A small whimper left his throat as he leaned forward, placing a wet kiss against your lips. You were looking at him with those big, doll-like eyes of yours, and he couldn’t refuse your request even if he wanted to fill you up so bad. “Awn, you’re so mean,” he whined, forehead touching yours. Every shove of his cock inside you had you bouncing up and down against the wall, that stupid broom threatening to tilt once again. “Can I cum in your mouth, baby?”

You hummed, trying to torture him with a fake thinking session. “Don’t know…” You hesitated. Jungkook cursed against your shoulder, his cock throbbing inside you once again. “Do you have gum?”

“Jesus, woman,” he complained, almost choking on his own pleasure. “Yeah, I have gum. Can I do it?”

You smiled. “Suit yourself.” You had to use all the force inside you to place your hands on his shoulders and push him away. Jungkook almost sobbed when he pulled himself out of your heat, his cock glistening with your wetness, swollen and reddened. “And cum quickly or I’ll kill you.” 

You got to your knees before Jungkook had the chance to respond, your hand wrapping around his base and pumping him tentatively. He bucked his hips towards you, hissing at the sensitivity. “Listen, I’m really fucking close,” he told you, “and I don’t think you’d fancy a facial right now, so stop with that teasing.” 

You chuckled at his comment, fumbling closer to him. “You know me too well.” 

With that, you wrapped your lips around his tip, sinking his member inside your mouth until it almost reached your throat. Jungkook cried out in delight, louder than he had the entire time, and you were sure any passing strangers had heard him. 

Yet your paranoia was forgotten when he started talking. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned, placing his hand on the back of your head and tugging at your hair. Jungkook guided your movements with little force, watching as you had your fun around his cock — sucking and slurping him like it was the best thing in the world, the tears that accumulated at the corners of your eyes looking like a divine gift to him. “God, I love when you suck my cock, fuck—“ 

You moaned around him, the vibrations feeling like heaven to the boy. With a few more pumps of your mouth around him, Jungkook was coming undone with a loud hiss and a desperate buckle of his hips, calling out your name as he released his cum inside you. “Swallow everything,” his voice was hoarse as he told you that, meeting your watery eyes as you fought to drink every drop of his cum that you could. Jungkook smirked at your efforts, fingers caressing your scalp as you finished cleaning him up. “Good girl.” 

You sighed happily at his praise, taking his hand as he helped you back on your feet. You could only hope that your knees wouldn’t be red by the time that you arrived at your classroom.

“Love watching you with my cock in your mouth, baby.” Jungkook leaned closer to you, wrapping his arms on your lower back. He gifted you with a quick peck on the lips, still breathing hard against your mouth. “I hate that you don’t let me snap a picture.” 

You laughed at that, running one hand through his messy hair in an attempt to save it a bit. In the end, you decided it would be better if he just pushed it back. “I’m not an idiot, believe it or not.” You smiled. “Gum?”

Jungkook nodded and reached for his jacket’s pocket. “Here you go.” He handed you the small colorful wrapping. You promptly threw a piece in your mouth, humming at the sweet taste. He pouted. “You’re going to class like this? You didn’t cum, baby.” 

“I’m aware,” you told him, fixing your panties and skirt. Jungkook didn’t seem to worry about the state of his pants, though, because he didn’t follow your movements. “But I’m not gonna be late to this class, today’s topic is half of what’s gonna be on the test. Pick me up after the lesson and maybe you can deal with my delayed orgasm situation. If I’m feeling nice.” 

Jungkook smirked, pulling your body closer to his. “Hmmm, love when you boss me around.”

He kissed you again and, when the kiss started to get a bit too long for your liking, you pushed him away. “Jungkook, listen, I have two fucking minutes—“ 

“Okay, okay, go.” He rolled his eyes, noticing that his attempts at prolonging your little escapade wouldn’t be fruitful. Jungkook stepped back so he could tug himself back inside his underwear, and you turned around to open the door. As your fingers were curling around the handle, he made sure to add, “Don’t exhaust your wrist with all those notes, princess, you’re gonna need it later.” 

And of course he smacked your ass when you walked out. 

~

Thirty minutes after your class was over, Jungkook was happy to have his face buried between your thighs, eating you out on the backseat of his car. Suddenly, it seemed as if you weren’t so worried about being caught, because he never heard you moan so loud. 

He made a mental note to do that more often.

~

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

[banqdanfnfic]

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

© banqdanfnfic 2021, all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Morning In Bed (Naga x Reader)

Pairing: Trans Male!Reader/Male!Naga

Genre: Fantasy, Domestic, Fluff,

Warnings: 18+ Content up ahead! Impregnation, Oviposition, slight Breeding Kink,

Word Count: 1549 words

Summary: You spend another relaxing morning bed with your husband, with a couple of (welcome) surprises along the way

Request: Hey! I'd love to see something nsfw between a naga and a trans male reader. Could you write about the reader getting impregnated, and/or the actual egg laying process if that's not too much.

When you first built your house with your husband, Venthr, he had two requests:

One, for your bedroom to have a wall facing the West, right next to the side of your California King Mattress. Two, that there be a large window on that same wall, to allow the morning rays to heat up your bed and act like a giant sun lamp when you both wake up. You had agreed readily, because even though you loved cuddling with your husband, his cold-blood always had you layering on pajama pants and cozy socks, prepared for a cold compress pressed to your side the whole night.

The sun feels especially nice this morning, with Venthr’s tail wrapped around your legs, shoving away the warmth of your duvet and focusing solely on feeling up your lower half. You crack one eye open as Venthr lays hot kisses on your neck, his claws slightly grazing your hip as he massages it from behind.

“Well, look who's become a morning person.” Your murmur, face still half shoved into a pillow. From the corner of your eye you can see Venthr smile, his long fangs peeking out from between his lips, which he then wets with a long swipe of his tongue.

“It’s pretty easy with you pressed up next to me.” Venthr whispers, pressing another steaming kiss to your neck, his tail slightly constricting as his chilled piercings send goosebumps across your neck. You giggle as Venthr nips at a particularly sensitive spot, reaching your hand back to tangle in his messy red hair. It hangs loose from his scrunchie, long strands framing his face and falling over his shoulders.

Venthr cuddles even closer to your body, soaking up your body heat and nudging your backside with his-

“Speaking of morning.” You wiggle your eyebrows, Venthr chuckling and rolling his eyes. He’s acting pretty smarmy for a man whose dick is pressed right up against your ass. “What, is my drool that irresistible?”

“Would it be weird or romantic if I said yes?”

“Depends on your tone of voice, I suppose.”

You contort your shoulders so you can kiss Venthr on the lips, a breathy sigh escaping you as he begins to slowly rut against your backside. His cock, unsheathed, lays hot on your low back, the tip of his tail rubbing your ankles as he leans deeper into the kiss.

In between fervent kisses, Venthr whispers, “Do you want to try this morning?”

You nod, Venthr’s affection stirring a tingling current up your body and down into your toes as he grinds even harder.

“Y-yeah, yeah I would.”

Venthr doesn’t bother responding with a snarky remark, not about how easily you become putty his hand or how maybe the both of you are now morning people; He just trails his long claws up your hips and your stomach, crawling under your pajama t-shirt and pulling it up as he goes.

The two of you had been considering having a child and had only recently started trying for one; Or, with his biology, a couple. While you two had no problems being ‘motivated’, so to speak, it had been more difficult for his eggs to take to your human biology. His cum would usually leak out of you without any of his eggs properly latching inside. The process was a little messy, but nothing some high grade bleach and plenty of sheets couldn’t handle.

You sigh as Venthr returns to his passionate sucking on your neck, his claws flicking over your nipples as he slowly spreads your legs with his tail. The smooth muscles massage your lower body as the contort and force you open, his cock finding it’s place in between your thighs.

“Gods, I love those noises you make baby.” Venthr all but groans into your ear, fingers finding purchase on your chest and twisting your nipples. You shove your face into your pillow, somehow still embarrassed by your own grunts and moans as your husband fondles you. Venthr’s chuckle vibrates against your neck as his left hand leaves your chest and moves towards your bedside cabinet. He hastily pulls open a drawer and takes out the lube, spreading it over his fingers for you to see. “I’ll get you prepped, but from what I can feel down here,” he punctuates with a hump against you, rubbing his slick cock against your juices, “I don’t think you’ll need much.”

You playfully hit his shoulder, but your muscles tingle from the pleasure and make the impact a love-tap at best. Venthr laughs again, relishing in your sounds of pleasure as he slowly walks his hand down your body. The cold lube smearing against your navel sending goosebumps all over your body.

“Y-you’re wasting t-the expensive kind, babe.”

“All for you, sweet cheeks.”

Venthr’s long fingers finally reach your crotch, spreading you open and playing with your sensitive spot before inserting two of his fingers. Your breath catches in your throat and Venthr takes the opportunity to smother you in a french kiss, fingers increasing their pace. You can taste the metal of his tongue piercing, gasping around his own moans as he finds that particular spot within you. The callouses of his palms put perfect pressure on your insides, the bottom of his palm spaying special attention to your crotch.

You feel the familiar climbing sensation of an orgasm ripple through your abdomen after a couple minutes, causing you to pat Venthr’s arm and breathily whine his name. Venthr pulls his fingers out of you with an audible slick.

“You think you’re ready? Ready to take me, all of me?”

You nod against Venthr’s neck, mind in a pleasured haze, tugging on his tail to bring his cock even closer. Venthr kisses your pulse point. “Alright, just let me know if you need to stop, okay?”

Venthr’s tail slowly shifts apart your legs even farther, the tick of his cock brushing against your entrance as he adjusts his upper half. His hand, now covered in your cum and some lube, lovingly brushes against your abdomen. With a final kiss, Venthr begins to slowly insert himself into you.

You hold your breath as Venthr’s swollen cock fills you out, the cold base of scales bumping against your backside as he bottoms out. A rumbling moan comes from his chest when he feels the way you clench around him. Venthr continues to massage your hips and begins to increase his pace once he feels your muscles relaxing. The two of you let out a series of low grunts and sighs as the tip of his dick pressures against that sensitive spot inside you. Venthr shoves his face in the crook of your shoulder, whispering a ‘fuck’ as a trail of drool begins to pool out of his mouth.

“You’re going to be-” Grunt ‘-such a good fucking dad.” Ungh “I can’t wait to see you, filled to the brim, petting your stomach.” Aah “Chaperoning those dorky school trips, going to overpriced amusement parks.” Fuck.

With your husband’s cock pounding you into oblivion, you barely have the mental capacity to comment on his dirty talk, your responses limited to slurred  ‘uh-huh’s and yelps. Venthr’s tail struggles to keep their grip on your sweaty legs, desperately wrapping tighter and tighter as your bed begins to shake with the power of his thrusts. The bedsprings squeal as he grabs the top of the headboard, holding up his upper body so he can fuck you even harder. Your fingers clench around the bed sheets, knuckles white while Venthr’s movements become sloppier and sloppier, the returning feeling of climax bubbling up in your core.

“You’re gonna look so handsome with my eggs inside you, baby. I know it, fuck!” You throw your right calf around Venthr’s tail, pushing him even deeper inside of you as your pleasure climbs to higher and higher heights, moving your own hips in tandem with your husbands. Both your moan’s raise in pitch, your bed frame slamming against the wall with cacophonous bangs. Venthr’s sharp nails comb through your hair as presses a sloppy kiss to your forehead, more of his saliva dripping from his mouth and onto your face.“Fuck, fuck! I’m cumming, I’m cumming baby, I’m gonna-”

Your orgasm rocks your body, aftershocks shaking your very bones as Venthr’s thick, gelatinous sperm fills you up. The globes of unfertilized eggs push past your cervix and send another wave of trembling shivers down your spine, forcing your eyes to roll into the back of your head.

The two of you stay in that final position for a couple of seconds, Venthr’s dick pushing and holding his eggs inside you as your eyes slowly come back into focus. Venthr’s heart beats quickly, the vibrations pulsing against your back as his tail muscles stay constricted around your legs, holding them in your breeding position. But once the endorphins run out and your muscles begin to ache, the two of you collapse into a sweaty, cuddly pile.

The silence lingers even as your reason returns from post-sex euphoria, Venthr absentmindedly petting your rib cage and caressing your thighs.

“You know, I think my dirty talk made all the difference.”

You smack Venthr’s hand, playful and weak. Venthr laughs.

Just another morning in bed with your husband.

[wandsandwheezes]

Ares | F.W

WARNINGS // 1.8k // SMUT 18+, Ares!Fred AU, God!Fred AU, Unprotected Sex, Degradation, Overstimulation, Aggression, Shouting, Anger, basically PWP but there’s a lil plot.

A/N // Hi so, unfortunately I got inspired and this is the result whoopsie, basically me and @darthwheezely​ are hoes xoxo I don’t normally write Fred stuff.... but here we are so enjoy.

Ares is the god of war, one of the Twelve Olympian Gods and the son of Zeus and Hera. In literature Ares represents the violent and physical untamed aspect of war. Although Ares embodied the physical aggression necessary for success in war, the Greeks were ambivalent toward him because he was a dangerous, overwhelming force that was insatiable in battle.

–

You knew he was mad, from just the way he had stormed back past you, ignoring the glimmer of hope in your eyes as he continued his pursuit to the grand hall. You daren’t try to stop him, not when his skin was hot from fury and rage, instead you decided on letting him cool down, to no avail. Soon after his arrival home, all that could be heard was the loud clambering of chalices and dishes as he threw them in anger, the barrelling sound of his voice as clear as day as it echoed around every hall of your home.

Perhaps he needed distraction, although you feared he did not want to see you, you were adamant that you being there would do him some good in stilling the fury that bubbled inside of him.

You had attempted to pass the guards who were currently protesting against you going to see Fred, standing protectively in front of the wide-open entrance. These two burly protectors were the only thing that stood between you and your lover and that thought alone made you smile nonchalantly at the two guards, pushing past them quicker than they could stop you and protest.

You had just made it up the small set of stairs just in time for you to see yet another metal platter clamber against the once pristine wall, the beautifully prepared food disintegrating to shreds as it collided with the stone. His back was the first thing you saw, rippling muscles prominent through the thin veil of the purple cloak that covered one of his arms. You cleared your throat, a small voice practically whispering his name to draw his attention to you. “Freddie?”

“Little rose...You look glorious.” His tone of voice had shifted cleanly from the gravelly yells to the affectionate hum he had when he had set his eyes on you. The white chiffon draped sensually across your body, the delicate material struggling to keep your breasts from spilling while every curve of your body lay in wait, begging to be grasped. Your hair, while out of your face, had curled beautifully down your back, flecks of gold leaf and rose petals scattered across your locks.

With his eyes fixed on you and you alone, you made the choice to close the gap between the two of you. With every step towards him you took in his sweat covered chest and biceps, wanting nothing more than for him to wrap his strong arms around you, to hold his attention for just enough time for his anger to fade.

“You may be mine, but yet you flaunt yourself around the walls in that pathetic material for all to see.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his veiny hand reaching up to tug enough at the material for it to fall, exposing your chest for him, his aide and the various servants that were scattered around the hall, mostly trying to clear the path of distraction that Fred had caused. 

“Leave us.” He spoke quickly, eyes not moving from the way they were fixated on yours, his fingertips ghosting over your shoulder and down your arm, lips inches away from each other. The soft breeze that flowed through the room had the fabric swaying as it hung at your hips, the faint chill of the air hardened your nipples as you stood before him.

“Truly, you’re so pathetic, aren’t you, petal?” His hot touch was tilting your chin up enough for him to control your movements. His lips trailing faint whispers of kisses down your neck, rendering you breathless, speechless and craving him entirely.

“Speak when spoken to, pet.” He growled, his vice-like grip on your jaw tightening, pushing your lips in a pout as you attempted to speak the words you needed through shaky breaths.

“I-I’m your pathetic girl, Freddie.” 

“That’s right, you are.” He was now hoisting you up effortlessly, large hands gripping possessively at your thighs as he adjusted the way you sat on his hips. As soon as he sat back against his throne, your knees were pushed further apart so that you could straddle him, his hands moving to keep you pulled in close to him, your hands messily holding onto his neck to steady yourself.

His touch alone had you seeking the relief your aching cunt was screaming out for, hips moving in the hopes of just a fraction of pleasure as your swollen clit dragged across layers of smooth fabric.

“Little one, what do you think you’re doing there, hm?” He tutted, a hand immediately finding the coils of hair, disrupting the rhythm of your moving hips and the intricately placed style of your hair. His harsh grip tugged away at the curls, displaying your neck for him.

“First you whore yourself out for everyone’s eyes, now you think you can sit there and get yourself off, did I say you could do that?” He snarled, lingering fingertips bruising your thighs as he stilled your movements with heated touch.

“N-No, Fred, ‘m sorry.” You whimpered, knowing that you were pushing your luck when it came to Fred’s temperance with anger. He would more often than not subject you to bear the brunt of his frustrations, his loathsome anger that overcame him as he dominated you. He wanted you to know that he was the God here, and that any other man for miles would kill to be him.

“Count yourself lucky I’m not parading you outside and showing every man and woman of this village just who makes you feel so good.” He chuckled, letting go of your hair, your upper body crashing down against his chest as his hands bunched up the pooling fabric at your thighs, shifting your hips to sit directly over what you needed from him the most.

“You’d like that though, bet you’d have preferred my aide stay watch us rut like breeding bunnies, isn’t that right, Jewel?” He was pulling himself free, letting his hard cock spring free. 

You found yourself nodding, at a loss for words as he teased your entrance, daring to push in with antagonistic flare. He wanted to have you begging for every inch, even if that took hours on end.

“Speechless already, youngling?” He smirked his mind tugged edge to edge with a passionate need to fill you. The second his cockhead has pushed past your entrance, you found yourself hissing.

“Don’t tease me, Freddie.”

“I don’t think you’re in a good position to be giving me orders here, little rose.”

“But I-” You went to protest, instead you were met with his hand wrapped around your throat, firm grip against your windpipe as he brought your lips down to his in a tempered kiss.

“Who’s in charge, say it nice and loud for me.”

“You, Fred.” You whined, his hand still wrapped around your throat, instead of praising you he squeezed a little harder and whispered as his lips grazed against your cheek.

“Louder, let those guards standing outside hear you.”

“You Fred, you’re in charge.” You hissed out, feeling himself pull your hips down to sheath fully inside you. He didn’t need to tease you anymore as he set a godly rhythm, fucking up into you with all the force and might entrusted in him.

Sex with Fred was like being in the clouds, he was able to send you into a state of euphoria every single time but you were greedy, taking every girthy inch he could give you, yet you begged for more. He simply would chuckle and oblige, giving you release after release that had you screaming and clawing at his back. You could handle it, especially the way he would have you a brainless mess so quickly.

He had you now bent over the nearest table he could get you pressed on, ass on full display for him as he pushed himself inside you once more, his cock filling you to the hilt over and over again, his thrusts rocking the creaky table loudly as lewd moans spilled from your lips, the sound mixing perfectly with his deep grunts of passion.

“Mine. All fucking mine.” He groaned, like a chant, repeating it again and again, hands pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts with a bruising touch as he claimed you for what you already were; his.

Everyone surely knew by now who was fucking you, who was causing you to scream out for him as you begged him not to stop, your stamina hardly touched as you craved another release.

This time he had you up against the stone wall, back pressed firmly against the harsh gravelly texture as he hooked a leg up on his hip, taking you as his forehead pressed against yours, you had both hardly removed any of the material that covered your bodies, instead working with the fabric until it flowed together in the open breeze.

“You want more, petal? I’ll give you fucking everything.” He moaned out for you, your hands cupping his jaw as your eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy, unable to stop the wave of pleasure that coursed through every inch of your body. You couldn’t count the releases you had endured but you didn’t want him to stop. 

He had pushed you over the edge twice more before his own seed was released inside you, completely overwhelmed by the feeling. The way his hips stuttered and stilled before feeling his silky release mixed with yours dripping down your thigh, made you realise that he was more than just a God, he was your God and you were the luckiest woman in all to bed him at your desire.

“I love you, my radiant Goddess.” He murmured, nose brushing against yours as he cradled you into his arms, letting your breathing steady and your mind return back to him as his hands massaged over every roughly gripped inch of your skin.

You loved him too, more than he would ever be able to comprehend.

“What had you so mad, Freddie?” You whispered, reaching up to run a hand through his sweaty hair, smiling up at him lovingly. 

“Someone dared call you an easy whore, I had to show them that nobody calls you a whore but me, pet.” 

“Is that so?” You poked, leaning up to press your lips to his, the kiss lingering in entangled lips for a moment before his aide had burst into the room, forcing you to snap your head to look at the man who had coughed, Fred’s hands came to turn your body into face his, lifting the flimsy material to cover you and protect your modesty upon the intrusion.

“Sorry to disturb, but there’s an urgent matter with your Fa–” his aide spoke quickly, eyes avoiding Fred’s out of awkwardness.

“Tell my Father to go fuck himself, I’m busy.”

“Fred, don’t do that for me–”

“I’m busy, now go.” He spat, ignoring your protest, eyes following his aide as he scurried off hurriedly.

“Now where were we?” He smirked, tilling your chin up again before pressing his lips to yours again. 

“Ah, right here it seems.”

taglist //  @pansydaisy​ @feetoffthetablee​ @darthwheezely​ @http-caitwo​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @loony-loopy-lupinn​ @theweasleytwinsgirl​ @pandaxnienke​ @turtletaylor98​ @lumos-barnes​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @amxrtentias​

[wornoutmouse]

Last one I promise to stop bothering you ahhhhh . Can we plz get a Iida Tenya (pro hero age) smut (I love this guy) like maybe you reader catching him jerking off can you imagine prim and proper tenya doing dirty things? And things get crazy after:) thank you for listening to the rambles of a crazy woman

Your wish is my command

We all know Iida has a big dick right?

And yes i looked up black hairstyles cause i just started doing my own hair leave me alone 🤚🏿

Dubious Consent, blackmail, squirting

Working for the Iida family was honest but harsh work. They strived for professionalism and didn’t allow mistakes, no matter how small. With each member holding a leading title in almost every section of Japan, it was a no-brainer that you would choose to work with them. The only problem was, your socially oblivious boss.

One would think that as the new Ingenium’s sidekick, you would have an insider’s look into his personality and lifestyle, but that was farthest from the truth. For the 2 years that you’ve worked alongside him, you had been kept at a distance and forced mainly to handle the paperwork.

According to him, until he was sure you could handle yourself on the field, you needed to stay away from danger. In hindsight, you would have understood that choice and would have been completely fine with it. However the fact you couldn't m could never learn to handle yourself in the feels if you were never allowed on the feels was a glowing contradiction

Spending time with your boss was informative yet draining. He always set an example of a good business deal and would always explain things you didn’t understand.

The downside however, was his obsession with the non-existent dress code. Since you don’t do any outside work lately, you never put on your hero costume. So i you were always dressed in normal clothes, and every last one of them he had something to critique about.

“Here’s your coffee Mr. Iida.” The bluenette man hummed his appreciation and you turn to sit back at your corner desk.“Miss L/n….”

You tense, preparing yourself as the sound of his chair scraping against the hardwood floors announced his incoming presence. His heavy footsteps loomed closer until he stopped just barely behind you.

Your legs are kicked apart and you find your boss kneeling below you with a measuring tape. “I am appalled, your skirt is 4 centimeters away from the recommended 5 inches above the knee, we do not run a brothel here, please respect the code Miss L/n!”

You sighed, it was best to just go along with his antics. “Yes, Mr. Iida, I’m sorry for my ignorance.” As you bowed you faintly heard a small choking sound and Iida’s hands grabbed your shoulders to raise you back up. “I’ll have none of that bowing, it was a simple mistake.” He pushed up his glasses before stiffly walking back to his desk.

When he came back into view, his face was slightly flushed from what you assumed to be the heat, “I am printing something in the room below, do you mind getting it for me?” You nod and headed out the door. It may have been your imagination but you could have sworn you heard a faint curse word coming from your boss’s mouth.

Reaching the lower room was quick and effortless so you sat and waited for the presumed paperwork Iida was printing. Many of your coworkers passed you with pitying looks that you did your best to ignore. You knew that this life was not one strived for by an aspiring hero but you couldn’t just up and leave.

Your head began to itch slightly. Why is it taking so long to print? While you pondered the situation, you watched a short woman walk up to the copy machine and begin copying her own set of work. You felt your eye twitch, there wasn’t anything even programmed to print.

You stood up and quickly made your way back to your office. Stepping inside, you look blandly at your enclosed room. The memory of your boss's large windowed room flashes through your mind and you decide to work out there instead.

As you walked to the door that connected your office to his, you tilt your head curiously as a loud muffled growl comes from inside. "F-Fuck yes, suck that cock!"

His voice was guttural, and the words were something you would never dream of him saying. But what stuck out to you more was where it was all happening. I know this man ain't screwing at work!!

Without thinking you barge into the room and your jaw drops at the sight.

Sitting in your chair, was your boss, Tenya Iida. His hair was disheveled and his suit was reduced to nothing but his white shirt and open slacks. He was flushed from the neck up and sweat had accumulated in his brow.

Held tightly in his right hand was his dick and it was just as dodged as him. It was also bigger than you imagined

….not that you even imagined it in the first place.

Angry blue eyes dart up to look at you through low hanging bangs and you realised you had been staring. "This is uh… Sorry!" You internally cringe at the fact you stuttered.

As you turn around to leave, you are restricted by Iida's voice. "Stop." Almost as if in a horror movie, you turn back to him slowly and it takes all your willpower not to look down as he had shamefully left his manhood out.

You press yourself against the door as you watched Iida remove his glasses and place them on your desk. "It's rude not to knock Miss L/n." You swallow shallowly when he raises a finger to motion you forward and for a moment you lose all rational as you soon found yourself standing in front of him.

His legs were spread wide open and his dick looked like it was ready to bust any moment. The tip had become an even darker red hue, contrasting ironically with the trimmed layer of dark blue curls nestled at the base.

Despite the situation, the man before you sat looking rather relaxed. He slowly rolled up his sleeves and you caught sight of swirling tattoo sleeves wrapping around each bicep. "Come closer Y/n, I promise not to bite very hard."

He had never used your first name before and that seemed to compel you to move closer, allowing him to use your wrist to place you in-between his legs. "There is a very important rule that I have yet to teach you in the world of business."

The trained look he had focused on you left no room for argument as one of his large hands easily wrapped around your upper thigh. A shiver runs up your spine as his thumb strokes your skin slightly under your skirt. "When one has even an ounce of blackmail against you…"

Iida grabs the front of your blouse and uses it as leverage to tug you to the ground. Down there, fingers gingerly comb through your freshly dyed Nubian Twists, "... you need to blackmail them as well, fair trade and all that."

The grip in your scalp tightens and you feel your eyes slightly water at the sharp sting. The other hand still holding his cock, positions it towards your full lips as a silent order. Salty precum covers your mouth and your tongue darts out to lick it off. The sight was porn worthy.

Before you got too carried away, you decided to see how far you could push him. You bring your hands to softly wrap around his member as you gauged his response. "If I agree to this arrangement, what will I get in return?"

Iida sighed as you licked his dick starting from the balls to just below the top, "What do you want, a raise?" You shake your head and kiss a thick vein traveling along his shaft. "I want to work out there, as your official sidekick."

You could tell his patience was running thin as his hips twitched so you wrapped your mouth around the top, pressing the flat of your tongue against the slit. Iida looked down at you, teeth nibbling roughly on his bottom lip. "Why...ah~ why should I let you work anywhere near me after this!?"

In a bout of anger, you accidently let your teeth drag down the sensitive skin. Iida's eyes roll to the back of his head in such a way that you couldn't pinpoint it as a result of pain or pleasure. "I can easily report your victimizing and unprofessional behavior to HR."

Iida's eyebrows furrowed and he yanked you off of his cock. You stand up shakily before being slammed against his glass table. "You got a lot of nerve, making demands yet you're the reason I was being so unprofessional."

Iida slides down to his knees and raises your skirt over your plump ass. You internally groan as you remember the matching baby blue lingerie you were wearing, that was not going to help your case. Iida slaps your right asscheek nice and hard making you moan softly. "Who is this for?"

You decide to play into it, you sway your hips a little and stick your butt out closer to his face. "It's for me, myself, and I." Iida pulls at your panty strap before letting it snap back. You had to admit it stung. Giving attention to your other cheek, a tan hand takes hold of it and squeezes hard.

"And if I let you work with me, what is my reward?" Iida uses his teeth to pull the fabric of your underwear away from your hidden prize. You hummed as if in thought, "Good karma?"

Lips wrap around your clit and suck hard, "Sorry that's not good enough for me." You grind back on his face and relax on his table more. His hot tongue massaged and prodded your lips and clit, but never got close to being inside of you.

"Working as a pro hero is karma filling in itself, but it is stressful. Not enough time for personal focus."

Iida sucked on two of his fingers before siding them up and down your slit, taking extra time to teasingly delve past your opening before retreating just as fast. You groan, "What do you want me to do, suck your dick under the table on weekends?!"

Iida hums as he joins his mouth along with his fingers. You sigh as his large middle finger finally breaches you and sends soothing sparks throughout your body as it rubs against your walls. The combined stimulation of his hot tongue against your clit, and his even warmer fingers barely grazing against your g-spot had you in pure ecstasy.

"As convenient as that sounds, if someone were to find out we'd be in a lot of trouble." At this point you're bouncing back on his fingers giving Iida a show as your pussy squelches around his fingers. Your mouth hands open in soft pants, fogging up the clear glass below you.

Iida stand up as he continues to finger fuck you in the same rythm as he pumps his cock. "How about dinner and we see how that goes? Let's be professional." You side your clenched fists down your sides as Iida removes his fingers and replaces them with his dick.

You wait in anticipation for him to fuck you but he stands completely still, and you then realise that he was waiting for an answer. "You don't think it's a little too late, dinner comes first you know?!"

As much as Iida loved your banter, his dick was so fucking hard that your joke only agitated him.

Leaning over you, he places one hand on the glass table while the other takes hold of your hair, jerking it back. You hiss as your scalp burns for a moment, but that small pain was replaced with a greater one as teeth sank into your shoulder. "If your going to be sidekick material, that attitude is going to have to be worked on now stop testing me before I fuck it out of you."

You roll your eyes and grind down on his dick making him moan, "Fine sergeant dick, I'll be your little trophy wife, in return let me work for once, I didn't go to school for nothing damnit."

Your hair is released so much quicker than you expected that you almost hit your head on the table. Iida chuckles darkly, "Wife? Trophy slut would be a better word for it." Another harsh smack was delivered to your burning bottom, but he was satisfied after long last.

His hips finally press firmly against you as the full length of him is accepted with your pulsating core.You try to talk through the discomfort, "My ring better be huge after this."

Iida laughed sympathetically as he kissed the dark bruise forming from where he bit you. "The biggest money can buy."

The stretch began to feel pleasurable as his thrusts got faster. As a result of course you could feel yourself getting louder as well. "Faster!" Iida grunted as he held your waist to balance himself. Underneath the sound of the wobbling desk, your low groans are heard as the slapping of skin soon becomes more incessant.

"I've been waiting to fuck this lewd bottom for months! Parading around in all them damn form during outfits!"

The feeling of your bosses cock pumping in and out of you was overwhelming as he was ruthless when it came to chasing his own pleasure. Your legs trembled themselves closed, as you received another harsh slap to your ass. By the time this was over, you were sure you were going to be unable to sit.

On the other end, Iida was deeply pleasured by the sight of your ebony skin shaking from the force of each thrust. That's why it was unsurprising when a high pitched moan that most definitely wasn't yours fills the room.

"Ah, yes, I'm going to cum so deep inside of you, I can right? Pretty please!?" The man was practically whimpering as his cock twitched inside of you. If you were honest, you couldn't even answer as you feel his cum fill your insides. Even so, you felt your toes curl as he kept going.

"Come for me Miss L/n!" The shakiness that seeped from his voice as he fucked himself into an overstimulated mess was adorably pathetic. You do your best to reach in between your legs and stimulate your clit.

As you get closer, your cute hole tightens like a vice around Iida's cock and he finds himself coming again in quick spurts just like before. He was unable to take anymore stimulation and weakly pulled out of you before pumping the fingers in your wet heat. "Come on, cum on my fingers Miss. L/n."

You while loudly as you rub your clit faster and like a large wave, an orgasm crashes down on your body making s clear liquid spew from your cunt, wetting the floor.

[lilykenz]

Round 1 ❥Kenma x f!reader

❥ Word Count ~ 1.6k

❥ Warnings ~ ⚠️ 18+, smut, female reader, edging, mention of alcohol, kitten play, dd/bbg.

❥ Summary ~ You’re visiting Kenma’s house for a fun hangout, yet things change -very- quickly when he catches your admiration.

❥ This is my first one-shot with the ‘you’ perspective! Please be gentle!!! Do not repost anywhere but I do appreciate reblogs <33

“YES! HAHA! New high score!!!” Kenma roared.

The shout made you jump in your seat and jostled your attention from your switch to him.

Kenma pushed himself with his upper body away from the computer desk and slid the rolling gamer chair back. With one movement, he unfolded his legs (which had been at his chest) and hopped to his feet. This guy really sat in weird positions while tending to his hobbies. Some of which made -your- back ache in protest. How’d he do it for hours at a time?

“We should play a round next!” He strained out in that cute higher pitch he gained when he stretched.

Was he talking to his friends over the mic? Or to you??

The heaviness from your handheld sat in your lap. Muscles flexed beneath the sleeves of his baggy black hoodie. It happened again when he brought those arms forward, pulling his hoodie tight at the back. The nape of his neck clenched just before he rolled his head. Long black hair faded to dirty blond messily draped over his shoulders, which was pulled back in a loose bun.

Damn..Long hair like that easily gets tangled up in a fist…You could hear your heart beginning to race and mind slipping into what you called “the gutter” all too often. A familiar heat swelled beneath the handheld, causing you to wiggle in your seat in a desperation to quell the discomfort.

He leaned forward, the tight denim jeans he wore hugging his calves, thighs, and ass. The world slowly tilted sideways while you watched. A pair of golden feline eyes glinted over his shoulder at you. But your mind continued to roam. Your breathing quickened and came out in soft little huffs. Did he absolutely -have- to have clothes on??

“Tch. Perv”, you caught him muttering when he placed his controller down with a clack on the desk. He turned around, his expression stern and unamused.

Uh oh. I know that look. You tried to swallow and bit your dry lower lip. Kenma was no longer in his normal playful mood. Flicking his nose with his thumb, he sniffled and glanced off to his left. Your gaze slowly followed to the right and stopped at the wide open door.

The arcade room door slowly shut and you watched as Kenma’s right hand stayed on the knob. His left hand fanned on the frame for support. The muscles in his back were again visible when he hunched forward against the door. A big sigh sounded before he straightened his back and casually turned to face you. One finger wagged with a tsk noise.

His walk possessed confidence with a stroke of sass. A nervous tension rose within you, as did something else. Your legs fidgeted together to hide the growing ache. Last time and the first time, Kenma had been so shy. So gentle. You could have sworn somewhere in the slew of your regular texts over the past week that he was going to try something. Something new.

And the vibes he was giving off were -definitely- new.

Kenma picked up the controller he had previously placed on the desk, opened a game, turned the stick to where the vehicle he controlled rammed against a wall, and left it idle. He straightened again and cleared his throat, the look on his face unreadable. But his eyes. His feline gaze shook you. It wasn’t a look of gentleness. Quite the contrary…

“Do you remember last Wednesday night?” His words purred into the silence and made you shiver.

You shook your head slowly, wracking your brain for evidence of what might have happened that night. The only thing you remembered was having too many daiquiris. And texting Kenma. You remembered the action of doing so, but your words were lost in a big drunken blur. A big swallow was your answer aside from your denial and you could feel your heart beginning to race. Shit! Shit! What the hell did I tell him???

A soft purring noise sounded when he approached your chair. He’s…he’s purring?? Kenma squinted down at you, mischief clouding his golden eyes. Slowly, he lifted and placed the switch off to the side of you. He then grabbed hold of the edge of the chair with his right hand. A grin spread across his face, loosening a few bang strands.

“Need I remind you, kitten?” His words hung on a low growl while he hovered over you.

“Wait…Kit-“ you began to say, but the words were lost in a squeak of surprise. The controller vibrated against your lower thighs. All you could do was pant out nervously, feeling your face heat up. You shot a look of desperation up to meet his, only to be met with hunger. Prowess. Possession. The vibrations continued further along the crease between your thighs.

Warm breath tickled your ear, “wait? Oh no. You’re a -good- kitten, remember?” The name calling was enough to make you melt, but paired with the praise, you couldn’t help but whimper. You didn’t have to see his face to hear the grin and scoff in response to your reactions.

The cruel handle of the controller hovered just above your clit. Layers of clothing didn’t matter. Your thighs clenched together from the sudden jolt of pleasure. A gasp followed by a whimper hung in the air and your lips began to quiver behind your shaky breathing. Kenma slipped his warm fingers beneath your chin and tilted your head up in place. Soft lips just barely brushed against your own.

“Uh-uh.”

The controller pressed harder against your swollen heat and up into you. Wave upon wave of pleasure surged through your shaking body and you couldn’t help but gasp, moan, and whine. He edged the controller down into the crease of your thighs, making your legs spread. A purr of approval sounded from his throat.

His waist rocked just inches from your view past his gaze. A tent formed beneath the taught denim. Pulsing. Throbbing. You reached out to assist when another pang of pleasure pressed against your damp folds. Your grasp found the bagginess of his hoodie, instead. More whimpers and moans sounded out from your parted lips against his. There came a soft hum from them as he chuckled.

“I could listen to these sounds of yours all day. You’re such a good kitten. Daddy approves very very much.” The words were like a drug of ecstasy.

Gawd. Fuck. Daddy???

The title whispered just barely beneath your breath against his mouth. Something warm and wet traced the contours of your lips. Another surge washed over you. The controller dipped then rubbed up and down your pussy in between your trembling legs. It was too much. You couldn’t last another second.

The vibrations pulled away for just a moment and you caught a growl with the delicious taste of his breath on yours. “Uh-uh…Finish when I want you to.”

His words were like velvet. His stare held you captive. You needed him so badly and yet he just continued to edge you on. Each time you came close, he’d pull away. Soft whimpers replaced your exhalations. His head would tilt up each time just barely and the creases of his full lips would curl. Sounds of indulgence of his own trickled into the air. Kenma was getting off without even touching himself.

“Say it, kitten.” He commanded lowly, the velvet thick enough to send shivers through you.

One end of the handle pressed roughly against your clit, the other against your folds. You couldn’t handle it anymore. Pleading cries answered him.

“Oh? Please? Please what, kitten??” His words sounded through grit teeth and his body began to show signs of strain.

“Please, daddy? Let me finish. Please?? Please please please” you begged. Fuck your pride.

A sexy grunt sounded after a chuckle. Kenma’s lips pressed to yours; that slender tongue exploring the confines of your mouth. Claiming them. It wrestled with yours. The vibrations pressed into your sex. Rubbing.Teasing. Kneading. Your breath shortened into quick pants. Trembling in desperation, you hesitated for a moment. Your hips began to sway into the controller a few times. Just a little more. Your thoughts imagined the tool being something else. Him. All of him. You needed him. Your body tensed and a bout of cum coated the fabric of your panties.

Hums of approval egged you on when he didn’t move the controller. With each wave of pleasure, your grip on his hoodie tightened. After the third time, the vibrations at last ceased. Yet the ghost pleasure remained while your pleasure-high receded.

“Goood girl” he purred between kisses, “fuck”, the end of the curse emphasised. He pulled away and with it, your lower lip, when he bit on it and tugged. A sly grin etched on his face as Kenma stood up straight, peering down at the sight of you.

“You’ll have to come over again. Maybe for dinner, a movie, a game or two. I can show you a few tricks.” He laughed at the possible dual meaning behind the last comment.

His glance followed yours and he lifted the black hoodie to further reveal his taught jeans. A blush coloured his cute fake-shocked expression when he met your gaze again.

“Yes! You did this. I might let you take care of it next time. We’ll see, kitten. In the meantime, Daddy has a meeting in a few minutes about the next online tournament.” He turned around and sauntered back to the door, taking the controller with him. He wanted you to notice the arousal in his step. The tease.

As soon as that door opened, his demeanour changed a little. He was back in his normal, playful mood. Back to cutting up with his online friends. You slumped down into the chair cushion, trying to catch your breath. A feline stare squinted back over his shoulder at you. You tensed. Then he winked.

[taeyohonic]

favoritism (m)

summary: you’re quarantining with your favorite person during a global pandemic (established relationship, idol au) pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader rating: explicit (18+) warnings: the pandemic is discussed, smut (vaginal intercourse, heavy kissing), swearing, the tv show f.r.i.e.n.d.s is discussed (i imagine that can be a trigger for some…) info: this is a follow-up to this drabble! i needed some established fluff… words: 2.2k

“since when does rachel like ross back?”, your boyfriend asks as he shoves a piece of pancake into your open mouth. your eyes widen while you chew – your comeback right on your tongue.

“what do you mean since when? these two have been canon since episode one season one.”

yoongi snorts and bites into a strawberry. “no way – rachel is way too good for a guy like ross.”

you snort right back in his adorable face and pinch his stuffed cheek. “yoongs, every girl is too good for the guy she ends up with”, you respond and steal fruit from his plate.

the both of you are cuddling on the couch while the f.r.i.e.n.d.s theme song is playing in the background. yoongi has you lying on top of him and uses your belly as a makeshift table to hold his breakfast plate. you don’t mind – as long as he shares his bowl of fruit with you.

some people would mock you for binging a 90’s sitcom in pajamas while munching on pancakes in the middle of the night. but you don’t care anymore – your sleep schedule is fucked. no need to sugarcoat it.

yoongi plays with your hair and you hum as he presses softly against your skull.

“are you too good for me, then?”, he whines and brushes his fingers now across your collarbone. again, you huff and push back against his body.

“who is the one who got us quarantined?”

monica’s rant at a confused and slightly apprehensive chandler is overshadowed by your quarrel.

“it happens, _____”, he says with a serious undertone. “you should know best.”

he is right. the pandemic is widely spread; of course, it’s not going to just… turn around at the bighit building. you still were surprised when sejin called your boyfriend two days ago, frantically talking to your confused idol.

a background dancer was tested positive hours ago – and now all of bangtan had to quarantine for fourteen days. while most of the members were safe at their luxurious dorm yoongi was stuck at your two-bedroom apartment. not that he is complaining… much.

“so, is monica too good for chandler then?”, your boyfriend asks to change the subject. you shake your head at him and feel his bleached hair grazing your neck.

“duh”, you start, “he fat-shamed her so badly in their college days.”

“but… chandler is your favorite character, _______.” you’re munching on the final piece of pancake as you answer him – your mouth still full of carbs.

“yeah, so what? just because he’s my favorite doesn’t mean i think he’s an honest and lawfully good person.” you point with your greased finger at the tv. “you see me defending moriarty? or loki?” yoongi takes the empty plate off of you and places it carefully on the couch table. it now rests on top of two unread architecture magazines and a few unread binders from yoongi’s upcoming collaboration. the soon-to-be graded tests mock you right next to an empty bottle of wine.

“am i your favorite?”, he asks in a sing-song voice so unlike yoongi’s cool persona, you can’t help but search for his mischief eyes. he looks so relaxed – it’s a joy to witness.

“in a world where park jimin exists?”

yoongi’s finger find your ribs and start to tickle you in an instant. your body twitches helplessly in his arms as you feel the air rushing out of your lungs. there is breathless laughter echoing around the living room, and you are too preoccupied to locate the source.

“he-elp”, you whine and feel his arms tighten around your waist. still, his fingers dance across your stomach and you try to escape his touch. “yoonggs-s pleassse.”

“say i’m your favorite and it’s all over”, he taunts you mockingly.

“oka-ay, ok.” you give up in milliseconds. your bladder is too full to handle his tickling any longer. you don’t want to pee on your boyfriend – your relationship isn’t that strong yet.

yoongi ceases his attack at your surrender. “say it, ______.”

sucking in much needed air, you turn around to straddle him. his slim body gives you enough room on the couch to shift into a comfortable position.

“you”, a kiss is placed against his right cheek, “are”, another one is mirrored on his left cheek, “my”, the third is planted on his small nose, “favorite.” before your can kiss your final destination – his forehead – yoongi’s mouth captures your wandering lips. you feel him smile into the kiss as warm flutters travel across your body.

without a second thought you move against him and open your mouth. yoongi moans as your tongue caresses his own softly. he presses himself closer to you, hindering you to rut against his solid erection. instead yoongi topples you over by forcing most of his weight against your heated body. “ahh”, you breathe in surprise at the changed position. now it’s him on top of you. your boyfriend looks down with darkened lust – surely mirrored by your own expression.

“yoongs”, you whine and squirm against his weight.

“yes, baby?”, he purrs while his swollen lips descend upon your neck. the heat rises in your cheeks and you know you only have moments before you are too far gone to think straight.

“yoongs, i gotta pee.”

“huh?”, he breathes against your jaw, his mind clouded by your smell.

“let me pee”, you cry and push against his chest. your boyfriend soon shakes with silent laughter as he eases off of you.

“really, ____?”, yoongi asks while watching you rush to the bathroom. you fidget from tile to tile as the cold marble bites your feet. adorable.

“get the condoms and move it to the bedroom, min! i don’t want to clean the sofa – again”, you yell before closing the bathroom door. adorable and bossy, he thinks and turns off the tv.

it takes you not more than two minutes to flush the toilet and rush into the bedroom. moonlight shines through the big windows, illuminating your boyfriend in the middle of your bed. his upper body leans against the headboard while his right hand is stroking his cock at a leisured pace. yoongi smirks as he notices your eyes on his erection.

“you look… really beautiful”, you say and feel your cheeks darken at the uttered compliment. it always surprises your boyfriend how shy you can get in moments like this. you’ve seen him countless of times – his cock is very familiar with the tightness between your legs. still, right now you look at him as if he’s untouchable.

“you’re the beauty between the two of us, _____”, he answers mid-stroke smirking at your barely dressed state. his t-shirt suits you.

“come here, baby”, he commands softly when you don’t make a move to close the distance. “i’m too tired to fuck you against the wall”, he adds jokingly.

you can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend and join him on the bed while shaking your head at his crude words. up close he looks not as intimidating as before. the lighting bathes him in an unreal gleam. you can see the veins decorating his thick shaft. delicious.

yoongi’s cock isn’t the biggest you’ve ever had – but it’s the thickest by far. your pussy clenches at just the memory of him inside you as you can’t suppress the needy moan escaping you.

his hand moves from his erection to your neck, pulling you closer to him. yoongi already abandoned his hoodie – the cream-colored skin as inviting as his smirk. you fumble with the t-shirt separating you from his touch.

yoongi notices your impatience and helps you out of your clothes in seconds. he comes face-to-face with your bralette and groans in annoyance.

“why are you still wearing a bra during quarantine?”, he whines and pushes the flimsy material away from your nipples. you coo in thanks as his lips close around one of your breasts, sucking at the flesh vigorously.

“we… ah”, you babble, “the zoom meeting with … with joon today – i di-didn’t want aaa-nother nipple-gate.” you have to take a deep breath when your boyfriend switches sides. his hands move on the now neglected nipple by twisting the erected flesh. “ah, fuck, yoongs”, you moan as you feel yourself getting wetter.

“god, baby, your breasts are really, really pretty”, yoongi praises against your skin.

“you know what else is really pretty?”, he asks, not sure you are still capable to answer him. he smirks at your flush body on top of him. you can only shake your head as your fingers find their way into his hair.

since you met him his head has always been a nightmare. the hair frayed from layers upon layers of bleach, toner and coloring. still, his strands between your fingertips are thick and you grip them tightly before pushing him against the headboard and away from your tortured nipples.

yoongi groans at your actions, the dull arch soon forgotten as you answer him.

“really pretty? your cock in my mouth.” you rain kisses down his jawline while mumbling the second part of your reply. “really, really pretty? your dick in my pussy.”

“damn, baby”, yoongi growls before grabbing your waist to position you above his erection. you feel your walls flutter as he presses his tip at your entrance. your boyfriend sees the need in your hazed eyes, but he has to check how wet you are first. with only one arm holding you up, the other hand wanders to your core. as soon as his fingers touch your engrossed clit, you bite the flesh beneath his jawline in heat.

“yoongs”, you plead while flickering your tongue against his throat. your boyfriend hushes you, endeared by your responds.

“i’ve got you, baby”, he promises darkly before pushing you down on his cock. there is the briefest moment of discomfort, but soon the pulsing between your tights sends flames through your body. you can’t help it as you press closer against his pelvis, sinking deeper onto his erection.

“fuck”, he groans. your wetness hugs him so tight – too tight. “you gotta relax, baby”, he soothes you. his hands move from your hips to softly caressing your back. “don’t make my dick fall off.”

you snort nuzzled against his neck as you will yourself to relax. “just like that”, yoongi praises as he feels your walls soften around him. his words encourage you to start rocking against him. there is no rush behind your movement, just yoongi’s cock sliding in and out of you slowly.

his hands dig into your shoulder blades as you feel him hitting the spongy spot deep in your hole. “right there, yoongi”, you cry and your boyfriend snaps is hips instantly into you. “more, please”, you beg, lost at his tip massaging your g-spot.

your scenes cloud in heat as you feel his pelvis bone rubbing against your clit. helplessly, you bite his neck. “fuck, baby”, yoongi grunts in surprised pain and presses you closer to him. your wet nipples touch his chest and you can witness his swallowed breathing.

his skin tastes salty and you brush your tongue against his jugular vein to collect more of his sweat.

yoongi speeds up the pace as he feels your walls squeezing him tightly. fueled by desire he pushes you down hard on his cock. “harder”, you beg. there is fire spreading faster and faster in your core. you feel yourself vibrating against him every time his pelvis brushes against your sensitive clit.

“your wish is my command”, your boyfriend vows between clenched teeth as his climax approaches. he quickens your movement and you help him, riding his cock in desperate need of release.

“i’m close.” yoongi can’t help but smile at your whiny tone and rushes his hand between the two of you. when his fingertips brush against his cock meeting your slit, he nearly looses it. hazed he finds your enlarged clit and rolls it between his fingers. you tense instantly as your orgasm rips through you.

there is no warning, only shockwaves of fire traveling across your body. “damn it, baby”, yoongi hisses. your walls clench around him with vigor. his own release is not far behind – you milking his cock being the final straw.

with a deep groan he empties himself in you. white stripes paint your hole from within. the bedroom is silent while the both of you try to regain some sense.

“you know you are good enough for me, don’t you?”, you whisper against the brand-new hickey on his neck. yoongi needs a moment before he gets the connection to your conversation from before.

it’s really maddening how the two of you are this self-conscious in your relationship while at the same time so quick to reassure one another.

“as long as i don’t call you the wrong name at our wedding, right?”, he chuckles lightheartedly.

“slow down, yoongs. nobody said anything about marriage”, you breathe tiered from your activities.

yeah, nobody said anything, but the ring in his drawer is screaming louder than ever.

“go pee, baby”, your boyfriend orders softly. he’ll ask for your hand in marriage tomorrow when his own isn’t full of pancake grease.

____

yeah, i’m a very new smut writer, so i try to practice! hope you found this as fluffy as i did! i’d love to read some feedback! love and well wishes from, dana