#ignore the copious amount of ass in this

[mrlilrox]

Some more doodles but this time it’s just roughly made out posing

[chosove]

18+ mdni | belated birthday boy :p

“f-fuck ‘toru…always forget how big you are…” your voice trembled as you struggled to take him fully, cunt seeping copious amounts of slick to adjust to his size.

he chuckled at your admission, cock swelling at the sight of your pussy lips splitting open to accommodate his massive size. “cant say shit like that p-princess, fuckkk baby, how are you getting even tighter?” gojo gasps out, your warm walls clamping down on him as you feel the back of your thighs finally set themselves down on his lap.

“ngh…can feel you s’deep already” grabbing his much larger hand, you guide it from where it rested on your ass to the spot just above your navel, applying pressure as your hips started to grind against his. “all the way up here ‘toru…”

“y-yeah?…shit angel…” satoru whined, free hand caressing your sides as a way to ground himself.

placing your hands on his chest for stability, you sped up your ministrations, giggling at satoru’s eyes rolling back. “does that feel good? tell me what to do birthday boy” you whispered into his ear, finishing your words with a bite to the lobe, soothing the area by sucking on it after.

“sh-shit anything, y’can do whatever ya fuckin’ want baby jus’ don’t stop” satoru whined, hips bucking up to meet your cunt. “p-please angel, jus’ use me however you want”

your walls clamped down on his cock at his words, the small bit of drool escaping his lips only turning you on further. swiping your tongue against his lip, you began to move your hips once more, the sight of the strongest begging you to absolutely ruin him encouraging you to ignore the burn in your thighs.

you moaned out, losing yourself in the way his cock managed to hit every sensitive spot inside you, body going limp when satoru’s hands gripped at your hips to hold you in place as he thrusted into you with a new ferocity.

“f-fuck ‘toru, slow down!” your sweet voice sang, the whines behind each word only pushing him to fuck into you even more desperately.

“love when ya call me that princess” satoru groaned, his body beginning to shake with desperation. “love this p-pussy, love you, fuck i love you angel, love you, love you, love you s-so much-” his voice continued to cry out, head thrown back as his cock jumped inside you, cum spurting out in a way that you swore felt like forever.

“g-gonna cum ‘toru” you whined, his orgasm throwing you into yours. it only took a few more seconds of his cock pulsing inside you to push you over the edge, cunt repeatedly clamping down on him, the overstimulation causing satoru to whimper.

it only took a few minutes before you started to feel his hips move under you once more, your head lifting from the crook of his neck to gaze at the sight of your lover in absolute bliss, mouth wide open with his brows creased.

“gonna make me cum for each year, right baby?”

[bbydoll18xx]

Guilty As Sin?

'We've already done it in my head'

Paige Bueckers x reader

I've never written anything, so this could very well be terrible, but I have a teeny tiny crush and it's killing me lol here we go!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: some naughty thoughts, ANGST, friends to lovers aka my fave

....................................................................................................

If there was one thing you had learned throughout your time at uconn, it was that it was pretty fucking difficult being Paige Buecker’s best friend. 

You had met her early in your freshman year when the boisterous blonde was partnered with you in an introductory biology course. You attempted to hold back a groan and an eyeroll as you heard your professor assign the two of you together for an upcoming lab project. You hated group projects, and even more, you could not stand the prospect of not getting a good grade in a class so important for your major. 

Paige, even as a freshman, was extremely popular. Her incessant smirk caused girls to blush under her gaze, and the boys basically broke their necks trying to impress her. She was the type of girl who knew she was hot shit.

Unfortunately, that was your type.

As Paige strolled over to where you were waiting for her, you tried desperately to ignore the uptick of your pulse. ‘Get it together,’ you thought to yourself. Girls like that should have no control over you.

“Hey, I’m Paige. I don’t think we’ve met. I would’ve remembered someone like you,” she murmurs flirtatiously, looking you up and down. Trying to keep the pink out of your cheeks and taking a deep breath, you hold out your hand and introduce yourself. 

That was the beginning of the wildly complex and intimate friendship you would build with Paige.

As a senior in college, you had learned many things: don't drink copious amounts of alcohol without eating some carbs first, avoid getting into ubers alone, do not, under any circumstances, hook up with your TA, and falling in love with your best friend is never good.

It started off innocently enough.

Paige was clingy and affectionate to those she was close with. You, being bisexual and surrounded by mostly straight people before coming to uconn, were hesitant with showing any sort of affection. You had always worried about accidentally giving your girl friends the wrong impression. Paige never cared, though, as she conditioned you into accepting hugs and tentative hand-holding. You grew to crave her warm, longer fingers wrapped around yours or her hand resting on your leg when she’s next to you at dinner or in the car. 

You had realized you were head over heels for her in your sophomore year, and the rest was history.

History you’d very much like to forget.

You were laying on the couch in your apartment. Music filled the room and you basked in the warmth of the sunshine. You rarely have moments of peace anymore, now that school had started back up.

Suddenly, the front door flung open dramatically, allowing several members of uconn’s women’s basketball team to enter as if they owned the place. 

“Hey girlie pop!” screamed KK. “We are going out tonight, and before you say no, you are coming with us.” 

“What happened to bodily autonomy?” You questioned with an eye roll. This happened all the time. Paige and her teammates had made it their personal mission to turn you into an alcoholic.

“Fuck that,” chirped Paige. “You had all week to chill, and I will not stand for that shit for another minute. Party P is comin' out in full force tonight, and I expect the same from yo' ass."

You let your eyes lock with hers. God that shade of blue made you want to drown in it, gasping for sanity as if it was air. 

“C’mon, you always do this. We’re going crazy tonight,” demanded Nika.

Pretending to think about it, you hesitantly agree. You didn’t have any control when it came to Paige. Whatever she wanted from you, she got. You chalked it up to being best friends, but your stupid brain always reminded you of the true source of power.

Paige, Nika, KK, and Azzi all celebrated as you acquiesced, already planning drink orders, outfits, and song requests at the bar they always frequented.

You sighed as Paige sat down next to you. You could handle this. You always did. Focused on anything other than her, you pick at a piece of lint on the soft green couch. Everything seemed to be a distraction from her. The heat of her body sends your pulse racing, just as it did the very first time you met. She really was an enigma.

“I’m glad you’re coming,” she murmurs softly. “Wouldn't be the same if you weren’t there.”

Taking a page out of the Paige playbook, you look her up and down and respond with an “I know.” She momentarily wears a look of shock, before her lips slide into that smirk again, and she laughs. The sound makes you want to run through a field of flowers and then jump from a building.

The pregame was, like always, chaotic, loud, and gave you anxiety. A drunk Paige was a clingy Paige, and you were not sure you could handle the extra touching tonight. One of the bottles of vodka that sat on the counter in the kitchen was beckoning to you, and you decided quickly that the only way you were getting through the night was with copious amounts of alcohol.

As you swallowed with a grimace, feeling the burn slide down your throat and settle into a warm pool in your belly, the door opened. Paige appeared, rubbing her hands together, looking like she was ready to fuck shit up. Your shit already felt ruined as you gulped at the sight of her. The black crop top she had on made you quickly spin around, shooting another shot in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the hunger that was brewing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there. We don’t need you wasted before we even leave,” Paige taunts teasingly, as she saunters over to you.

With your cheeks pink and inhibitions already lowered, you licked your lips in a manner you could only hope looked seductive and put the bottle into her outstretched hand. For the second time today, a flicker of surprise graced her features. ‘Good,’ you thought. ‘Two can play that game.’ 

As Ted’s was close to the apartments you all were living in, it was decided that a walk would be more efficient than attempting to wrangle the numerous already drunk girls into ubers.

You cherished the warm breeze flowing through your hair, allowing it to briefly sober you up.  Walking alongside Azzi and Caroline, you let out another small sigh, catching their attention. Your feelings were evident to pretty much everyone except Paige, and her teammates often tried to coax you into admitting your feelings to her. 

“Try to have fun tonight. Find someone hot to grind on, and you’ll feel better,” Azzi said unhelpfully. You laughed, but it wasn't a bad idea. “You’re right. I need a distraction. And preferably someone who is not blonde,” You muttered, causing Azzi and Caroline to giggle. 

Paige’s head whipped around at the sound of laughter. She pouted for a second before bounding over to you. She secretly hated the attention you gave her teammates; she wanted you all to herself.

Paige was possessive, as well as mouthy when drunk, which could be a messy combination. But Paige did not care about being messy tonight. She wanted your attention and your attention only. She knew she could very well embarrass herself, but the desperation of needing your attentiveness was far more important. She could handle her anxieties in the morning. 

“There’s my pretty princess,” Paige announces loudly, taking your hand into hers, almost possessively. The pet name wasn’t unfamiliar. Paige called you every name under the sun except the one on your birth certificate, yet the sudden affection caused your heart to lurch dangerously.

You needed a drink.

The bar was already buzzing when you walked in alongside the girls, still being pulled along by the tall blonde. You were fortunate it was dark inside, allowing a sense of privacy to indulge in the intimacy Paige was supplying to you.

She places a hand on your waist, looking down at you. “Imma get you a drink, babe. Stay here with the girls, and do not let any creeps touch you.” You could tell the few drinks she had at the pregame were already getting to her. She was getting more proprietorial.

You nodded, but you wanted to see how far you could push her. You’d do anything for her attention, even if that meant flirting with a boring guy to test her. She was sexy when she was pissed.

You fantasized about the way her jaw clenches when she's angry, as you scoped out for someone to be the target of your favorite unhealthy game. A six-foot blonde with light blue eyes catches your gaze, and you smirk. ‘Game time,’ you think.

With a smoldering look in your eyes, and the alcohol in your veins to keep you feeling confident, you walk up to the guy and introduce yourself. You find out his name was Josh and quickly shift in closer to him, feigning intimacy you would only ever want with Paige. 

It’s not long before you feel Paige slide between you and Josh, creating the distance you wanted since you walked up to him. 

“Paigey!” you exclaim. “This is Josh. He wants to dance with me.”

You see Paige jaw clench in annoyance and she pushes the drink she brought you into your hand before wrapping her now free arm around your waist with her hand splayed against your belly. You shiver at the contact.

“Go away before I make you, bro. She’s mine,” Paige practically barks at Josh. He shrinks away with a weird expression on his face.

You weren’t sad to see him go.

“Thanks for rescuing me, Paigey,” you beam up at her and take a drink. Paige’s eyes never leave your lips as you bite them, looking around the crowded bar. Your lips are pink from the gloss you just applied, and she thinks about how they’d feel against hers. 

Paige would never admit it aloud, but she thinks about you. She thinks about your dimples when you smile at her. She thinks about your laugh. She thinks about how you taste. In her head, they are together. In her head, you are spread out underneath her, begging for her tongue, her fingers, for anything.

Paige is used to people throwing themselves at her, and the idea of rejection, especially from you, makes her shrink back in fear. 

Paige’s eyes are hazy as the dirty Shirley starts to float its way through her veins. She relishes in the feeling of lowered inhibitions and the perfect excuse to get closer to you. Paige pulls you into her to dance. With the alcohol fully in your system, as well, you giggle and seductively dance against her. You can feel the tight muscles of her abs up against you, and you swallow thickly. It's difficult to ignore the way it makes you feel hot and sticky. 

“God, P,” you mumbled against her pale throat. 

“You look so good dancin’ against me, you don’t even know, babe,” Paige replies with her signature smirk.

You could feel the boundaries of your friendship slowly stretching to accommodate the feelings of lust sparking between the two of you.

Between the dancing and the large amounts of alcohol flowing, the night flew by quickly. Soon, you were getting pulled through the door and back out into the chilly Connecticut air with Paige holding you steady. You were a notorious lightweight compared to the girls of the basketball team, and that hadn’t changed tonight. 

“P-paigeyyy,” you whined needily. “Need you,” you pouted up at the blonde. The other girls in your vicinity shared curious looks with each other. You had never acted like this before whilst drunk, and no one really knew how to respond, Paige included. 

“What do ya need from me, princess?” Paige asked with a chuckle.

You motion for her to lean down, and you whisper in her ear, “kisses.” 

“Oh? You wanna kiss me?” Paige questions, feeling all the blood rush to her head.

You nod with a dreamy look on your face. You were going to regret this in the morning, but right now all you could think about was how soft her lips looked and how much you wished you could be hers.

'We've already done it in my head,' you thought drunkenly.

Paige looks down at you with an unrecognizable look, but she presses a soft kiss on your forehead and says, ‘“let's get you home and to bed, doll.” 

As you stumble back into Paige’s apartment and onto her bed, you look up at her and raise your hands over your head, making grabby hands at her. Paige rolls her eyes fondly but helps you get undressed. Walking you into the bathroom, she lifts you up onto the counter effortlessly, helping you take your makeup off and brush your teeth.

It felt so domestic you could cry.

Climbing into bed, your drunk mind prepared itself to sleep next to Paige. It would never feel like enough to you. You wanted all of her. 

Paige lies down behind you, wrapping a long and muscular arm around your waist, caging you in just the way you like it. You are a second away from sleep enveloping you, when you think you hear Paige whisper, “I am so in love with you.”

Your heart stops.

You wake up the next morning with your head pounding. You squint your eyes and look around. Paige is still sleeping next to you. You gently smile as you gaze at her peaceful figure. You wish you could stop time to stay here in this bubble with her. Soon, you’ll go back to being just Paige’s best friend, and the relationship you’ve built up in your head will come crashing back down.

Soon enough, the blonde wakes up, ripping you from your daydreams. She smiles at you, and turns over to completely face your body. “Crazy night, huh,” she alludes slyly.

Your eyebrows crinkle in question. “Did something happen?"

“Uh yeah…you don’t remember what you said to me?” she asks.

You shake your head in confusion, but you start to attempt to recall the events of last night, and all of a sudden it comes back to you. You recall asking her to kiss you, hanging all over her, and the incessant pouting and neediness. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment, and immediately you jump out of bed to leave.

“Wait, don’t go please,” Paige pleads in a way that is startling unlike her.

You ignore her pleas, gathering your stuff and running out of her apartment. Tears burn your eyes as they threaten to slide down your face. You try to stifle your sobs as you climb the stairs two at a time and get to your own door. You throw yourself into your shower as you attempt to drown out your own cries. 

As you sat on the floor of your shower you could not believe how stupid you were. Drunk flirting with your best friend would be the end of your friendship. You could see it already. Paige coming to you, trying to let you down easy. You felt so humiliated.

You sat there until the water got uncomfortably cold, leaving goosebumps against your skin. As you toweled off, you replayed the events of last night in your head for the millionth time. The dancing in the bar, the walk back to Paige’s apartment, her helping you undress. You sigh at the idea of losing her before it all comes crashing back.

“I am so in love with you,” she had whispered into your hair. You still at the memory. Paige loves you? Sure it's common knowledge that you loved and craved her with all of your being, but a love that was requited? It was almost too much to think about. 

You grab your phone that you had left abandoned on the couch and see the messages from the blonde. Messages of regret and longing fill your phone. One more pops up as you scroll, saying ‘I’m coming over. I won’t let you avoid me over this bullshit.’ 

A few moments passed before there was a loud banging on the door to your apartment. You had never felt so appreciative that your roommates had left for the weekend. Your breath grew ragged as the door slowly creaked open, revealing a panting Paige. Her blue eyes looked almost wild as they met yours.

“C’mere, just let me explain,” she says quietly. You weren't used to Paige being quiet and almost solemn. It scared you, just as the thought of confrontation did. This was not a conversation you wanted to have. 

Fighting your own instincts to immediately bolt, you gingerly sit on the couch where she had already made herself comfortable. Some things never change.

“Listen,” she starts out cautiously. “I never want things to be weird between us. I never imagined I would be feeling this way towards someone who was just a friend, but…I think we haven’t been ‘just friends’ in a while.”

You finally allow yourself to meet her gaze, trying to search for any semblance of where this conversation could possibly be going. Surprisingly, she looked hopeful, as if she knew something you did not.

“I-i want you. Like, more than a friend,” Paige stutters out, “And I think you feel the same way. We’ve both been too scared to admit it, but I’m tired of ignoring how you literally make me feel whole.”

You blink back more tears in realization that the last three years of hell of being only Paige Bueckers’ best friend was finally coming to an end. She could finally be all yours and yours only.

Without thinking, you place a hand on her jaw, bringing her to your lips. They meet yours with such hesitancy you almost think you’ve ruined the delicate balance of what you are to each other at the moment. Paige lets out a breathy sigh and pulls you onto her lap. 

You were heavenstruck. 

As the both of you finally pull away from the drug of a kiss, you look at each other and giggle.

“So much for the dramatics, I guess,” laughs Paige. 

You smile, rolling your eyes. “Not my fault,” you pout. “I have no control when it comes to you, P.”

“Same,” grins Paige. “The only thing left to do is figure out how to tell the girls. They’ve all been beggin’ me to tell you ‘bout my lil crush on you.”

“Those bitches knew?” you ask incredulously.

“Well yeah,” Paige says. “I’m not subtle.”

You giggle at how stupid you felt. The signs were there all along, but the fear of rejection and the cloud of lust had obscured any indications of reciprocity. 

“Let’s just start making out the next time we’re in front of them and see how they react,” Paige suggests with a waggle of her eyebrows. 

You could hear the whoops and cheers already.

“Deal,” you say blissfully. 

She was finally yours. 

[mysicklove]

𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓'𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖!

cw: sub! denki kaminari, gn! reader, toy use: bullet vibrator, nipple clamps, fleshlight. kinda heavy bondage (he is tied to chair lol), sadistic reader!!, denki being the biggest dork at the end, unedited (for now?) and POORLY WRITTEN lolol

wc: 1.8k

a/n: well @sorrowfulrosebud this was supposed to be a drabble. oopsies. everyone dont yell at me for writing this instead of kinktober IM SORRY. ALSO denki is a little silly at the end, I hope it doesn't ruin the mood for you guys :/ he is just such a nerd to me.

“No. No. Nonononono!” The blonde squeals, squirming in his chair. His legs try to kick up, causing his thighs to pull at the restraints.

You frown at him but ignore his plea, snapping the nipple clams onto the first nipple. He jumps in his chair and he lets out a yelp, muffling the sounds of the vibrator. “Don’t “no” me, you were the one to beg for this.”

In an instant, Denki’s face shifts into a wicked grin, and you roll your eyes. “You know I like to put on a show,” he purrs, “makes it more kinky, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, yeah, you sick pervert.” You use the remote to turn up the vibrator logged inside him a setting higher, and the blonde gulps, letting about a small mewl. Then, you clamp the metal onto his other nipple, forcing another pained noise out from his mouth.

“Ow! Ow!” He screeches, twisting from left to right in his red rope bindings. “It still hurts! Y-You got to be gentle with me!”

You reach for his thigh, giving him a teasing slap. “Quit that. Gentle with you? You would throw a hissy fit if I was.”

He remains quiet at that, agreeing with you, and the action makes you grin. You grab the fleshlight and begin to pour a copious amount of lube onto it while Denki squirms in his chair, excited for what’s to come. The bullet vibrator placed meticulously on his prostate was sending his head spinning, but to add something around his cock too? He was already daydreaming about how hard he is about to orgasm.

In one quick motion, you slide the entire thing down his length. His reaction is immediate; his back arches and he let out a moan. “There ya go,” You hum, “You like that, don't you baby?”

You don’t ease into it, knowing he will complain if you do. So, instead you set a ruthless pace and Kamari already feels himself begin to drool. His eyes roll back and he begins to hump into the toy, not caring that his hips were basically strapped down into the chair. “Y-Yeah. Can you…Vibrator?”

You smile at the boy, nodding to him before reaching over and clicking the button onto the highest setting. He groans out, a lazy smile plastered on his face. “Fuck yeah. Fuck, this is heaven, ‘s got to be.”

You scoff at him, trying not to roll your eyes. He was always the dramatic type, trying to find the most creative ways to show his love for what you do to him. It was cute though, so you didn’t mind too much.

His hips continue to buck into the fleshlight, and his ass lifts slightly up the chair, going against the binds to try and reach it better. The vibrator in him makes a loud buzzing noise and every once in awhile he stops his desperate humping to try and push back into it.

The noises he let's out are loud, high in pitch, as if he was trying to tell everyone around him how good he was feeling. It makes you wonder if you want to put a gag on him, but be always gets so pouty after you do, and you didn't know if you want to deal with that. So, you let the neighbors hear his cries — it was better than the annoying sound of the vibrator, to you and Denki at least.

Eventually his hips start to thrust up too high, and the rope begins to rub against his thigh. He was going to hurt himself at this rate, and that's the last thing you guys needed. You rest your hands on his thigh, pushing him down against the chair. “Kaminari, relax, it's not going anywhere. You don't gotta chase the toy.”

He shakes his head, continuing to try and buck upward. His eyes are furrowed shut and his face is contorted in a frown. “Can't help it. Love it, s-so much!”

You yank the toy away and Denki lets out a noise akin to a puppy yelping in pain, which causes you to roll your eyes. “No. Please no! I'm sorry I'm sorry ill relax. Don't take it away, I can't cum without it! I'll be good, a good boy for you I promise!”

Your face heats up at his lewd words and you pause for a second. His cock twitches from the coolness of the air, and you watch as a glob of pre drops onto the chair. He whines, and squirms in his confinement.

Then, you gulp and sigh, rubbing your hands on his thighs that are trying their best to stay planted on the chair. “It's alright, I'm not stopping,” you murmur, sliding the fleshlight onto his cock with a satisfying squelch. He cries out, and the noise loudness of the sound startled you. Your eyes flicker to his now glassy ones. “Fuck, Kaminari, you sound straight up out of a bad porno, you know that?” You say, breathless, and fixed solely on his face.

Sweat beads at his temples, and his lip trembles. His cheeks flush red and he shakes his head back and forth. The pale legs tremble in his seat but he doesn't buck upward, instead waiting for you to cover his cock. It's agonizing to him, and he wants nothing more than to fuck it, but he remains seated, instead choosing to push himself back into the bullet vibrator.

Your hands reach up to play with the chain and Kaminari let’s out a hiss, but doesn’t oppose it. The nipples have become slightly swollen from the clamp, and it causes you to frown. “Poor thing, look how red they are.”

A meek grin pulls at his face. “Y-You like it though, yeah?”

“I do. They are so cute like this,” You nod, slightly pulling on the metal, and tearing another whimper from his mouth. Your hand continues their quick motions and his moans begin to get louder. His hips begin to buck up again.

“Kaminari,” You warn sharply and he immediately presses his ass back into the chair with a short apology. You place your hand onto his face, your own apology, but for the harshness of your tone. He nuzzles into it, rubbing his cheek into your palm. “Good boy.”

He nods his head, buzzing at the praise. Drool begins to bead at the corner of his lips, and his eyes begin to get cloudy. He finds himself chanting out curse words and melting into the chair. With every stroke of the toy, every sound of the liquid gliding across his dick, he feels himself inch toward his high. The blonde's hands clench and unclench, and he mewls. “I need to cum. P-Please?”

The vibrator continues to target his sweet spot and it sends him shivering, not knowing if he should focus on the buzzing sensation or the one wrapped around his cock. But, you pull on the chain again, answering his question for him. His back arches and he cries out from the pain of his nipples being tugged uncomfortably outward.

“Yeah? That was quick, little embarrassing, don’t you think babe?”

He pouts at you, and tears begin to tumble down his cheeks. “Shut up!”.

You ignore him, instead choosing to rest your cheek on his thigh, now kneeling in front of the chair, and blinking up at him.

“‘s nothing to be embarrassed bout. I think it’s cute that you last as long as a virgin,” You coo, eyes flickering to the flesh light that keeps hiding his dick from you.

Denki shakes his head from side to side, whining at you, and beginning to sniffle from the tears. “Y-You just don’t understand,” he warbles and you raise your eyebrows. “Don’t even know what to focus on. Gonna cum, I can’t. I-I—Please!”

You smile at him, standing up again and resting your arm on the back of his chair. It creates a shadow over his body, and it makes the boy feel strangely small compared to you. He doesn’t complain.

One hand continues to stroke him, and the other plays with the chain on his chest. You pause for a moment, creating an air of dramatics, and Denki let’s out a small whine in complaint. “Alright, you can cum. I guess I don’t mind.”

He nods his head eagerly, blinking up at you with wet eyes. Then, you watch his body go rigid and his face scrunch up. Denki curses out, and you wait a moment before you grab at the chain and rip it off of his nipples.

It sends a burning pain down his and entire back and the blondes eyes widen, shocked by your actions. He borderline screams and it sends a full shiver down your spine. “Ow! Ow! Fuck. Fuck. Ow!”

But it doesn’t ruin his orgasm, in fact, it may have made it stronger. The blonde cums into the fleshlight and you watch as it drips down his cock, staining it a milky shade of white. He moans are high in pitch, and they seem to echo off of the walls from how loud they are. But they were always like this when he orgasms, so you weren’t surprised by it.

It lasts about 20 seconds total, and eventually, he slumps against the chair. You turn off the vibrator quickly, not wanting to overstimulate him just yet and pull off the fleshlight. The remaining of his cum drips from the toy and onto the tip of Kaminari’s cock. He doesn’t even spare it a glance.

Instead, he looks toward you, tongue out and licking at the excess drool left behind on his lips and chin. He pulls at the restraints, but doesn’t really put any effort to get out; it was more of just a test of whether he could get out. When satisfied by the results, he nods to himself, before turning to you. He cocks his head to the side.

“Soooooooo,” He announces loud and proud, contrasting his earlier pathetic pleas. You sigh to yourself, already knowing something ridiculous is to come from the way he is grinning at you. When Denki sees you playing along, he dramatically clears his throat. “Who’s the next star on tonight’s game show?” The voice is loud, mimicking every classic game show host. “Will it be, contestant number one, the dildo? Contestant number two, the vibrating wand? Orrrrrr the fan favorite, all-time champion, most beloved—“

You hold up two items you grabbed from the box placed neck to you and cock your head to the side. “Ball gag and cock ring?”

Denki's eyes widen, and he smiles anxiously at you. He should have known that you were going to play along with his antics, and the results were never fun. His voice is higher in pitch, and his eyes never leave the items in your hand as if terrified by them.

“W-We will find out after this s-short break, folks.” You borderline pounce on him.

[wrinrites]

ass o' clock - jjk

synopsis - jungkook sets off the fire alarm at 2am and you guys sort of, kind of have a relationship now. pairing - uni student! jeongguk x uni student! reader

if there is one thing you treasure the most in this world, it is without a doubt: sleep.

due to the typical college all-nighters you pulled literally a week before seasonal exams, the forthcoming winter break had seemed like a godsend. you were firmly set on not leaving your dorm, or even your bed for the next week minimum.

unfortunately for you, karma of being a huge disappointment to your parents seemed to have caught up to you exactly then. namely in the form your flatmate, jeon jeongguk and his nightly tendencies.

you see, you have no issue with him eating instant ramen at 2am, as long as he did not disturb your slumber. what you do have a problem with, is his idiotic self setting off the smoke alarm at ass o’clock because of his spontaneous cravings.

you tried to ignore the headache-inducing blaring, burying yourself under the warm covers in vain. after a few minutes of incessant ringing, you reach two conclusions. first , that there is a possibility of a fire within the premises. second, and arguably more concerning: sleep had officially escaped you.

so much for not leaving the bed.

with a scowl on your face and a blanket draped across your reluctant form, you trudge out the confines of your room and into the shared kitchen of your corridor.

what grabs your attention immediately is not the sight of jeon jeongguk standing there next to a glaring PC screen, a game you recognise to be Overwatch still baring random quips in language you do not know. your attention is soley focused on the bowl in his hand, the blackened lump in it and the charred remains of what seemed to be the microwave emanating a copious amount of dense smoke.

you gape at him as your braincells try to piece together what has happened. a brightly coloured ramen packet clutched in his other fist catches your eyes, and suddenly you think you understand.

“did you… break the microwave trying to cook ramen?” you ask, with all the tentativeness of consoling a 5-year old.

he gulps before nodding, his fluffy hair bouncing with the miniscule movement.

you think your braincells are starting to die off before their prime. mainly because now what remained of the students on the campus were now required to assemble outside for the smoke alarm to be disabled. which meant that inevitably, you would not be sleeping for the rest of the day.

rubbing your forehead in frustration, you motion to Jeongguk to follow you out of the dorm room.

although jeongguk had been your roommate for the best part of a year, the two of you had never really gotten close. you kept the conversations to a minimum, the two of you not initiating them unless the circumstances demanded it. the awkwardness between you had stayed due to the introverted nature you had in common- so you respected the space between you and never crossed it.

other disgruntled students were already somewhat assembled outside, albeit the obvious reluctance to get up at an ungodly hour. muted whispers and annoyance quickly filed into the hall, further driving any remnants of sleep from your depraved self.

“which idiot set off the alarm?”

“it’s probably taehyung. you know he does stupid shit all the time.”

although the assumption was plausible (taehyung was notorious for following … unorthodox methods at ungodly hours), it sadly was not him who had set off the smoke alarm.

a movement from the corner of your eye breaks you from your chain of thoughts. you turn around to see jeonggukk shivering slightly, his arms wrapped around himself, curling in his body against the cool nightly breeze filling the hall.

in your barely functioning state, you feel a tug of sympathy. while you were smart enough to bring a blanket with you, jeongguk was adorned in thin sweats hardly providing him any warmth.

the guy did set off the smoke alarm by breaking the microwave though.

you sigh, before waddling off to his side and draping the blanket onto the expanse of his shoulders. you hear a squeak of surprise from your actions, and you think you spy a faint pink bleeding into his cheeks.

admittedly, it was quite cute.

the blanket, although dense, is not enough to cover the both of your forms fully, leaving your front quite exposed. you shudder from the cold, cursing your luck for leaving you like this.

should you…?

you shuffle closer to Jeongguk, using his back as protection.

it’s just to keep warm.

it’s just to keep warm.

your heart still skips a beat as you press yourself against him. he’s solid and warm and soft all at the same time and you don’t think you can take it. he even smells good, a faint scent of vanilla and clean laundry.

the both of you stand still, not daring to comment on the new arrangement. you shuffle your feet slightly, and you catch him shyly glancing at you from time to time. as the last of the students trail out from their dorms, you feel a hand tentatively brushing against yours.

surprised, you take a step back instinctively, just to step on the corner of the blanket and-

shit. you forgot that your luck wasn’t the greatest.

right before you greet the ground with your head, jeongguk (with k-drama like timing, might you add), reaches for your form, and with blood rushing to your head, he rights you back on your feet.

“are you okay, y/n?”

he doesn’t even sound the slightest bit fatigued, dammit, even though he had to lug you to your feet. but despite that, a small part of you leads you to think that there’s a tremor in his voice, betraying his concern.

wishful thinking, maybe.

“i’m okay jeongguk. sorry, i didn’t mean to make you the romcom lead today”, you half joke.

he pivots to face you fully, so that he could see you better. his doe eyes are staring into yours, with his eyebrows set in a furrow, and is that a mole on his nose?

you know his lips are forming words, you’re watching the movement, how the plush tissue rounds to form his vowels and presses together to form his m’s. his tongue peeks out at one point to wet his lips, leaving a slight sheen. you unconsciously follow his movement, licking your own lips, and briefly, you wonder how they might taste-

“-you hurt your head pretty bad, i think we should go back inside, y/n”

huh. you don’t remember hurting your head. but at the mention, suddenly you feel a dull ache near the crown of your head. groaning, you reach to massage the spot to try and alleviate it. you must have been so enamoured that you didn't even notice the pain right away.

"i'm so sorry y/n, lets please head inside, and i'll grab us some snacks and get you painkillers- i'm so sorry this is all my-"

you interrupt his apology-ramble, already having your answer in mind. his eyes are shiny and his furrow has grown deeper, and you can tell how guilty he feels. and free snacks while you're at it? you'd be a fool to deny him.

"your room or mine, jeongukk?" you ask, slight lilt in your voice. abruptly, his face changes, the pout on his lips replaced with his lips pressed together and his cheeks puff out from the process. almost as if he was suppressing something,,,?

in a hoarse whisper, so that you could barely hear him,

"that's,, what she said,,?"

the guy who you're festering a fondness for, is a dork. a major one, in fact.

you grab his hand, and tug him through the lines of grumbling students, ignoring his yelp of surprise. despite this, he only holds your hand tighter, and quickens his pace so that he is level with you. after a beat of silence,

"y/n?"

you hum in response, climbing up the stairs to your dorm. the firefighters move past you, and upon your questioning they say that all other unaffected dorms should be fine. with a grin growing on your face, you pull jeongguk forwards even more.

"are we going to yours? i mean, i don't mind all, i was just wondering if you'd like cheetos or pretzels that my mom got me- they taste really good by the way! you should try! especially if you like sweet things but if you dont then-" he cuts himself off, not noticing the fond look in your eye.

jeongguk likes to ramble. you like jeongukk rambling. and maybe, you like jeongukk himself.

earnestly, you ask, "the pretzels seem like a good idea jeongukk. bring them to my room and then, if you'd like, we can watch something?"

he brightens up immediately, the tip of his nose scrunching and crinkles appearing at the corners of his sweet, sweet eyes. with the vigour of a puppy being given a treat, he runs past you to his dorm, and just before disappearing into his room, he raises his hand to his face and-

and blows you a kiss.

a/n - omg guys this is like, an old old fic from when i was 14 that i did work on and im so NERVOUS. this sint my best best work but i really want to get into writing and i think this is a good step forwards. also sorry for the ending hhh i couldnt figure out how to end it properly 😔😔 anyways!! i hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is helpful!! thank you again hehehe

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: After a beer pong challenge gone horribly wrong (or right, if you're Gareth), Eddie has to shave his head. As much as you'll miss his signature curls, you have to admit that his new look isn't all that bad...

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), drinking, beefy!Eddie, mention of Eddie's weight gain, Eddie + Reader are both 25, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v

Based on a request by @josephquinnsfreckles and a conversation with @blueywrites about the lengths we'd go to for beefy!Eddie.

Divider credit to @saradika

It was all Gareth’s idea. 

Gareth had been the one to crack open a Pabst can and make a snarky remark about knowing he could beat Eddie in beer pong. 

Had been the one to say that Eddie had gotten soft in the five years since graduation, to which Eddie winked at you and replied, “I think my girl would say the opposite.” 

Had been the one to up the ante with a “little bet.”

You shot Eddie a warning look that he ignored, opting instead to meet Gareth’s challenge. “Fine. When I win, you gotta let me pierce your eyebrow.”

“Okay,” Gareth rolled his eyes, “but when I win, you have to shave your head.”

At the same time as you blurted out, “absolutely not,” Eddie grinned and said, “you’re on.”

Jeff laughed from his spot on the couch. “Thank God. You’ve had the same haircut since, what? Ninth grade?”

“Eddie,” you hissed, pulling him over to the side. “You can’t get rid of your hair.”

Your boyfriend had shrugged nonchalantly as though the state of his beautiful brown curls didn’t depend on a drinking game. “Relax, babe.” He pulled you into his side. “He’s never beaten me in beer pong. None of these losers have.”

That’s why you now find yourself stationed outside of the bathroom in Grant’s apartment, too afraid to glimpse at the commotion inside. The sound of the electric buzzer was bad enough. 

The guys are all blissfully oblivious to your turmoil; even Eddie is cackling and asking Gareth to give him a mohawk. You can only assume that he obliged once you hear the four men erupt into a round of raucous laughter. 

“Last piece,” Gareth goads, a muffled zzzzzz coming from the buzzer as he presses it into Eddie’s scalp. “Aaaaand…done!”

Done. 

All of Eddie’s hair now lay on the tile floor, because he lost a bet to Gareth Emerson.  

The hair that he pulled back into a low bun before working on his motorcycle. The hair that you twirled around your forefinger whenever he kissed you. The hair that you loved weaving your fingers into as he kneeled before you, leaving teasing kisses along your inner thighs before devouring you.

If you had known he would be bald at the end of the night, you would’ve begged to let his hair tickle between your legs once more. 

“Whaddya think, babe?” Eddie peeks around the corner. His eyes, hazy from a night of drinking, stare into yours. Even drunk, he still seeks out your approval. 

Too bad you’re speechless. 

You’ve become accustomed to Eddie’s various metamorphoses. When you first met Eddie, he was lanky, only relying on assorted snacks and copious amounts of Mountain Dew. It was how he’d survived all of those years of food insecurity. And while you loved his body then, nothing could have prepared you for how he looked just two short years later. 

His biceps now hold muscle and softness; you often find yourself unable to risk the temptation of biting into them. His stomach has also acquired a slight heft, a pleasant side effect from eating three square meals a day. His jeans now cling to the curve of his ass and no longer require a belt. 

But his hair? That had always stayed the same:curls that frizzed at the first sign of humidity, worn like a badge of honor. You couldn’t picture him without it. 

If you had, there’s no way you could have imagined him looking so damn sexy. 

Eddie laughs at your shell-shocked expression, your widened eyes and dropped jaw. “That bad, Sweetheart?”

“No…’s good. Really, um, good.” Your throat is suddenly dry, and you swallow just so you don’t cough. “Can I feel it?”

He nods, and you brush your fingers over his bare scalp. Your touch is met with a soft fuzziness that was never there before. 

Long-haired Eddie looked wild and chaotic, a Tasmanian Devil of a man. But buzzed-haired Eddie looks tough. Strong. Like he’ll destroy any other man who dares look at you. 

And it makes you absolutely primal. 

“I think we broke her,” Grant whispers loudly, and the rest of the room breaks out into tipsy giggles, slapping at each other and stumbling back into the kitchen for more ill-advised drinking.

Eddie frowns, not able to read your expression. “It’ll grow back,” he says, one ringed hand rubbing your back. He lets his fingers linger on the curve of your ass and gives it an inconspicuous pinch.

“C’mere.” You take advantage of the guys’ distractedness and pull Eddie into the nearest bedroom. The moment the door shuts and the lock clicks, you’re pressing your lips to his. On instinct, his denim-clad leg slots between yours, creating a hint of friction against the seam of your own jeans.  

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His words are muffled by the barrage of kisses. “Can’t just clobber me like this; gonna get me all worked up.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” You drag your forefinger up his fly, relishing in the way his cock is already beginning to harden. 

Eddie practically throws you onto the bed, his biceps flexing with the sudden movement. “Gotta make this quick, yeah? Don’t want those idiots interrupting us.” With that, he tugs your pants away from your body, practically tearing off your cotton panties along with it. 

“Oh, honey,” he coos, dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed and throwing his head back. “You’re already soaked.” He smirks before nipping at the soft flesh of your thighs, alternating between kisses and bites. “All this from a little haircut?”

All you can do is nod, leaning back so he can wrap his arms around your upper legs and fully bury his face into your weeping cunt. “Mmph,” he moans against you. You reflexively reach down to grab onto his locks, stopping when you’re met with his newly buzzed hair. Instead, you pull him in closer until his nose nudges your clit. 

You say his name on an exhale, your pussy clenching around nothing as his pointer and middle fingers part your folds. You’re spread open for him, a blank canvas for him to create art. “Inside. Please.”

He might be inclined to make you beg further, but the threat of his buddies banging on the door has him relenting quickly.     

Eddie’s grip on you tightens and his fingernails leave crescent-shaped divots. A breath catches in your lungs, your mind blanking when he greedily laps up your arousal and plunges his tongue into your hole. 

His groans vibrate against you. “So much easier without my hair in the way.” He pulls back to catch his breath, his chin already shining. Brown doe eyes peer up at you, once again waiting for you to approve. 

“K-Keep going,” you mumble, only acutely aware of the party occurring in the adjacent room. “Need you so bad it hurts.”

“Don’t want my sweet girl hurting.” The pad of Eddie’s thumb makes small, concentric circles on your clit, making your whole lower body tense up in anticipation of your orgasm. “There we go. No need to pout.”

Your back arches when he dives back in. He maintains his rhythm, inhaling deeply when the bulb of his nose brushes against that sweet spot. Pleasure is right within your reach, your hips moving in tandem with his ministrations to chase that glorious high. 

It isn’t as though Eddie has ever been bad at oral; you’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you come on his tongue. But now that he doesn’t have to constantly shake his hair from his eyes—now that he has an unobstructed view of just where to touch you—he hits each stroke with perfect precision. 

“Eddie—holy sh-shit, Eddie—right there right there right fucking there!” Your release crashes over you faster than it ever has before. It’s as though Eddie has transported you to another planet, another galaxy, another universe, and you will yourself to float back down just to reciprocate the pleasure he’s given you. 

His pants button is already undone, hidden behind an oversized Metallica t-shirt, your fingers finding the hint of pudge on his lower tummy. “One of my old pairs,” he says sheepishly. 

They’re gone in a flash, along with his pre-cum stained boxers. He climbs on top of you, hard cock in his fist, and runs it through the mixture of saliva and arousal at your core. 

“‘M not gonna last long,” Eddie murmurs, locking his gaze with yours. He’s not embarrassed; he’s proud that he can bring himself to the edge just by eating out his girl. 

You can’t stop the scream that emanates from your throat when he pushes inside you, but you also can’t be bothered to care about anyone else hearing. All of your thoughts center around Eddie filling you wholly and the sacrifices you’d make to keep him inside you forever. 

He punctuates each thrust with an animalistic grunt, taking as much as he can with every snap of his hips. “My…good…girl,” he pants. “My…good…fuckin’…girl.”

“All yours. All yours, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes roll back as you submit yourself to him. “Gonna come. Gonna come inside you, fuck, Sweetheart!” With one final movement, he spills into you. 

You cry out his name once more, letting your hand fall to the small love handle just above his hip bone. Another one of your favorite places to bite, especially when you could sneak up on him and catch him off-guard. 

He flops down, his fuzzy head tickling your jaw as he nuzzles into your neck. “The buzzcut really does it for ya, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

--

[rotthepoet]

heyy, i’ve been reading a lot of ur stuff lately and it’s safe to say im obsessed. i was wondering if u could write 69 w the slytherin boys? only if ur comfortable but i feel like that would be really cool. ty!

POOKIE IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER I HAVE BEEN IN SUCH A SLUMP I’LL NEVER MAKE YOU WAIT WEEKS AGAIN THANK YOU MY LOVE!!!!!

Im sitting here wondering how i should write this?? Hmmm. Writing my thoughts as i think them dont mind me<3

Smut below the cut

Draco would like… maybe be the most gentle?? If i do say so myself, and I do. He’ll probably put the most thought into how its going to happen, when, why. He wanted a lovely date, treat you nice all night, be the perfect boyfriend… and expects a reward. Self indulgent bitch. Anyways! He leads you to bed, nice and slow, passionate make out sesh, you are living a dream! Then as you both finally get your clothes off, he’s kissing down your thighs, looking into your eyes and whispering soft praises before he lays on his back, and you(knowing the drill) go to straddle his face before he grips your thigh and smirks. “Other direction, darling.” And he cant help but laugh at how you blush. He lets you set the pace, matching your speed or slowness until you both finish <3

With Blaise, it just kinda happens naturally. No one had to go watch or read porn to think about it. You and him were getting freaky one night, a movie turning into wandering hands, turning into you on his lap with his tongue down your throat. The energy in the room just said 69, and you’d be a fool to ignore it. You’re on top, and the grip he has on your ass is fucking delicious. He’s so controlling over your body, pressing his face right up into your cunt, practically inhaling, while you can barely take his tip. If you take too long going down on him he might bite your thighs to speed things up ;)

Oh man, Mattheo Fucking Riddle. Bitch. He’s a power hungry hard dom with a knack for getting what he wants when he wants it. Oh man. You’re in for a ride- no. A rollercoaster. He’s on top of you, ravaging your dripping pussy while fucking his dick into the back of your throat. Its impossible to breathe with his heavy balls slapping your face, but it cant be much easier for him with your thighs wrapping around his head. If he’s in a good mood, he’ll let you have your way. Otherwise, he’s manhandling you into whatever position he wants. He might get you upside down if you arent careful.

Theodore and Mattheo are pretty similar. Them and Enzo are the like.. roughest of the group? That being rough without copious amounts of praise. You’re far less likely to have to work for your “good girl” with Theo, but sometimes he’s a tease. Anyways, Trust the moment your lips are around his tip he’s tugging your hair and bucking up into you while he feasts. It’s so messy and loud and he’s halfway sitting up because your hips keep running from all the stimulation:(

And Lorenzo. This fucking bitch. He’s wanting to 69 all the time. I mean he gets head. You get head. I get head? Everyone gets head! And it takes half the time because two birds with one stone. In my humble, Enzo hating, opinion… he’s not big on foreplay. I mean he’ll finger you and stretch you out because he’s not a total monster, but he’s way more excited to get into the main course than an appetizer. Much like Theo or Mattheo, he’ll set the pace with his hips. No time to play around he needs to be balls deep in you rn.

[spnbabe67]

Make My World Go Black

Kinktober Day 4: Friends to Lovers (T.O.)

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem Original Character

Warnings: Smut, Drinking, Soft and Slow sex

Summary: While visiting Loretta's hometown, the newest Tornado Wrangler gets a request to come pick Tyler up. The problem? Boone has the hotel key.

Word Count: 2962

Authors Note: Title and fic based on the song "Black" by Dierks Bently. (And yes, I know the character in the GIF isn't Tyler Owens, I couldn't find one that matched what I had in mind)

The last thing Loretta expected when Boone texted her was a request to pick up Tyler from the local bar. Sure, The Tornado Wranglers were in her turf, back home in North Texas, but usually it was Boone or even Lilly’s job to nurse their leader back to soberness. She had just crawled into bed, the time nearing 11, when her phone started blowing up with texts from her coworkers. At first she’d tried to ignore it, eyelids heavy from a long day of driving, but after the 5th text she’d relented, squinting at the bright screen. Most of Boone’s text was incoherent, the videographer clearly had a couple drinks himself, but through his copious amounts of spelling errors and incoherent sentence structure she gathered his message: come get Tyler.

So, Loretta pulled on a pair of jeans and a hoodie and pointed the headlights of her two-door Chevy towards the bar Boone had managed to type clearly. Loretta knew the bar well, a little hole in the wall downtown. She wasn’t surprised Tyler chose this place out of the list she’d given him to celebrate a successful season. They’d raised a significant amount for the communities they visited throughout the last couple months, and as an end of season celebration Tyler suggested they come visit Loretta’s hometown. She was the newest member of the group, having joined towards the end of last season when The Tornado Wranglers were chasing an EF4 in the Panhandle and came across Loretta who was competing at the local rodeo. She’d always had an interest in inclement weather growing up in the southern portion of Tornado Alley she’d seen her fair share of tornados, seen the devastation they left in their wake. Here she was, a little over a year later, picking up her boss who she’d had a crush on since he swaggered up to her at the bar after she’d finished competing. 

“Hey Doll.” Tyler gave her a lopsided grin under the brim of his white cowboy hat as Loretta approached him.

Boone or whoever had sat him down on a bench outside the bar, thumping base still audible through the walls. The air was tinged with the smell of cigarette smoke and grilling meat; it was a familiar and comforting aroma.

“Hey yourself, Cowboy.” Loretta quipped, ready to mockingly scold Tyler for getting drunk but it died on her tongue as he pushed himself up from the bench with ease, no sign of alcohol impairment. When she had read Boone’s text, she’d assumed his request to come get Ty;er was urgent, that Tyler was drunk. But here he stood, not drunk at all, buzzed if anything. 

“Thanks for comin’ to pick me up. Boone and the others are drunk off their asses with no intentions of leaving any time soon. We all carpooled and Lilly refuses to let anyone drive her car, so.” Tyler trailed off, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Loretta tried not to linger on how stupidly hot the motion was, eyes bouncing back up to his face from where they’d trailed down to his biceps that were outlined by his white t-shirt.

Loretta gave Tyler a half smile, nodding her head back to where her truck was parked. “Come on Cowboy, let's get you back. You drove more than I did today and I’m exhausted.”

Tyler huffed a laugh. “Me too.”

She let Tyler follow her as she hopped into the driver seat, cranking the key until her engine sputtered to life. “Alright, where did you guys hole up?”

Loretta looked over at Tyler as he whispered a curse under his breath, patting his pockets. “They only gave us one key and Boone has it.” 

He’d taken his hat off, ever the gentlemen, resting it on the dash. His sandy blonde hair was all mussed up, flat against his skull in some places and sticking out like a rooster's crown. His skin was tanned from years in the sun and it looked so damn smooth.

“I’ve got room.”

Tyler looked over at her, eyebrows raised and a half grin on his face. “Really? You got a spare room?”

Loretta tilted her head back and forth, bracing an arm over the back of the passenger seat as she backed out of the parking spot. “Eh, not exactly. But I have a queen sized bed and sleep like the dead.” She shrugged her shoulders as she drove them down the singular main drag through her small town. “Not like you have any other choice.”

“I can crash in my truck. Really Lor I don’t wanna impose on you.” Tyler tried to reason, sinking down lower in the passenger seat and Loretta had to force herself to keep her eyes on the road rather than watch as Tyler set his legs wider.

“It’s not imposing if I proposed the idea in the first place. So shut it and just let me take you home.” Loretta paused, feeling her cheeks go warm as she dragged a hand down her face to hide her sheepish smile. “That came out wrong.”

Tyler chuckled at her from the passenger seat, grinning at her. “Yes ma’am.”

“Fuck off.” Loretta jested, playfully shoving Tylers shoulder.

She ran a hand through her brown hair, tucking a couple errant strands behind her ear, trying to convince herself that the blush that still clung to her cheeks was because of her embarrassing statement and not because Tyler Owens was sitting in her truck and they were driving to her house. This felt right. The sky was full of stars, her house was far enough out in the country the light pollution was nearly nonexistent. With nothing but rows and rows of corn and soybeans with the occasional break for pastures for cows or horses, including the one that belonged to her acreage of land. The gravel kicked up around the wheels of her truck as she pulled down her driveway leading up to her raised ranch. 

“Well, this is me.” Loretta unbuckled her seatbelt, gesturing for Tyler to follow her. 

“It’s” She heard Tyler contemplate from behind her as she unlocked the front door. “Not gonna lie, it’s exactly what I was expecting.”

Loretta furrowed her brows as she let him into her house. “Is that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?”

Tyler stuttered, running a hand over his head. “Good! Good! It’s a good thing I promise.”

Loretta giggled as she guided him upstairs. “I’m just fucking with you.” She stopped at the hall closet, pulling out a towel and a washcloth and holding them out to him. “Bathroom is the last door on the right, I’ll go grab you some clothes.”

“Thanks Doll.” 

Loretta held her breath as Tyler took the linens from her, tucking them under his arm before leaning in. It was everything she could do to not let her eyes flutter closed as Tyler's face got closer to hers, the heat of him leaking onto her. Loretta felt Tyler’s lips brush her cheek and immediately her chest tightened, that feeling of longing flooding her brain and heart. As brief as the kiss was, him pulling away was quicker, punctuated by that heartbreakingly sweet smile only a country raised boy could pull off. 

Loretta internally sighed, returning his grin with a toothless one of her own, patting his back. “Go get cleaned up Cowboy.”

Once Tyler snicked the bathroom door shut, Loretta retreated to her own bedroom, rifling through her dresser drawers. She knew her brother kept a spare pair of clothes in there somewhere for whenever he came to visit. There! She pulled a pair of boxers and another t-shirt from the back of her bottom drawer that seemed to be the right size.

“Just me.” Loretta knocked a couple times on the bathroom door before cracking the door open. The shower was running, the water hot enough to steam up the bathroom. “I found a pair of boxers and a shirt you can borrow for the night.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Tyler said from behind the other side of the opaque shower curtain. 

Loretta hummed a response, fleeing the bathroom in the most nonchalant fashion she could manage, closing the door behind her. She let out a sigh, shaking her head trying to get rid of the images of Tyler naked not 5 feet from her separated only by the door and the shower curtain. He is probably soaking wet, lathered up with soap. No! Loretta went back to her own room, changing out of her sweatshirt and peeling off her jeans, changing them for a pair of sleep shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt from her alma mater. 

She turned the lamp on the bedside table on crawling under the covers, picking up the book she’d been meaning to finish, needing something to distract her from her less than pure road her thoughts her headed down. Absolutely not! He is your best fucking friend, your coworker! You fucking him would just make everything worse. 

Loretta’s eyes snapped up from the book cradled in her lap when she heard the bathroom door creak open and Tylers footfalls bring him into her room. She felt her mouth go dry at the sight of Tyler, dressed in just boxers and a shirt in her doorway. Sure, Loretta had seen him as well as the other Tornado Wranglers in various stages of undress. Chasing twisters required a level of get-up-and-go that didn’t leave time to worry about modesty. But it was the fact that he was here, in her room, about to sleep in her bed, that had her wanting to know just how good his muscled body would feel under her hands, against her body.

“Feel better?” Loretta managed to say, dipping her gaze back to her book to keep from ogling the man.

Tyler hummed somewhere from her right as she felt the bed dip under his weight as he climbed in beside her. “Nothing like a hot shower at the end of the day.”

It was Loretta’s turn to hum a noncommittal response, not trusting her mouth to filter the thoughts circling in her brain.

Tyler must have taken her minimal response as her being upset because his hand landed on her arm, causing her to flinch. “Lor, you okay? I can sleep on the floor, or on the couch.”

Instantly Loretta felt guilty, setting her book back on the nightstand.”No, no, no. Sorry, I’m just super tired. And don’t be spewing that bullshit. I’m not about to let you sleep on the couch let alone my floor.”

Tyler raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Loretta crinkled her nose at him,offering him a soft smile. She reached over, turning out the light with a quiet click, flooding the room into darkness save for the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains. She let out a sigh as she settled on her side facing Tyler, watching him do the same. Despite her bed being a modest Queen,Tyler was nearly chest to chest with her.

Loretta was glad the room was dark because she was sure her face was flushed red. The way the moonlight glanced off his face made her think Tyler looked like an actor in a black and white film, all James Dean with a titch of Marlon Brando.

“Hey Lor?”

“Hmm?”

Loretta could sense Tylers hesitation, the apprehension of her reaction to whatever he wanted to say. She felt him shift his arm like he was gonna reach out and touch her but the sensation of his hand against her arm never came, much to Loretta’s disappointment.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Loretta blinked, then blinked again, trying to process what Tyler just said. She huffed a laugh, thinking Tyler was joking. “You sure you didn’t have anything to drink Ty?” 

“Yeah, I am.” There was no mistaking the seriousness in his voice, no mistaking the way he was looking at her. “‘Cause I wanted to be completely sober when I did this.”

It was like Tyler was in slow motion, the way he carefully brought his hand up to cup Loretta’s face, thumb stroking the line of her jaw as he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Fireworks erupted in her belly at the feeling of finally having his mouth on hers after months and months of hopelessly pining. Well, not really hopeless now is it? Because here he was, deepening the kiss as she willingly opened her mouth to him. Part of her had a hard time believing this was real, that maybe this was just a dream. A really good, really real feeling dream. But the other part was hyper aware of the fact that one of Tyler's bare thighs had slid between her own, the hand not brushed against her cheek had slid to her waist, pulling her even closer to him.

Loretta felt like she was on cloud nine, a high not even Boone’s weed could touch. She threaded her fingers through his hair, whimpering as Tyler’s tongue swept into her mouth. His thigh was solid muscle between her legs, rubbing up against the ache that had slowly started to grow there. Loretta let out a small moan as Tyler’s hand slipped down to palm her ass, rocking her onto his thigh. Loretta moaned Tyler’s name as his lips made a hot trail of sloppy kisses down her jaw to her neck. 

“I know, Baby, I know.” Tyler murmured against her neck, his hands sliding under her long sleeve shirt, thumbs stroking the planes of her belly. “Let me make this feel good.”

Loretta arched her back, helping Tyler slip her shirt off before his hand pressed against her stomach, laying her flat on her back. She whimpered as the cold air hit her bare chest, her nipples hardening. The cold was short lived as Tyler's hot mouth closed around the right one, his hand kneading the other, pulling a gasp from her lips. Her hand shot to his head, holding his face to her chest. She arched her back, chasing the feeling of his tongue circling around the sensitive bud, his left hand tweaking and pinching the other, every action had wetness pooling in her shorts. 

Tyler pulled off of her breasts, a line of saliva connected her nipple to his lips as he kissed his way back up her body until his lips met hers again more heated this time. Loretta slid her hands under Tyler's shirt, pulling it up and off, letting her explore the soft ridges of his abdomen. As Tyler rolled them over back onto their sides, Loretta became aware of something hard poking against her lower stomach. A very large, hard something. Everything in her became focused on the fact that Tyler’s hands had slipped back down to her hips, pushing her shorts down. Loretta reached out, slipping her hand down Tyler’s boxers causing him to curse under his breath.

He reached down himself, shimmying out of his boxers until they were naked. Loretta kissed Tyler deeply as he ran the fat head of his cock through her soaked folds, hiking her top leg high on his hip. 

“Fuck, baby you’re so wet for me.” Tyler muttered against her mouth between kisses, rutting himself against her until the head caught on her core.

Loretta’s mouth fell open as the head of Tyler’s cock slid into her, Tyler hissing through his teeth at how tight she gripped him. His fingers dug into the plush of her ass and thigh, holding her leg up so that he could slot his hips between her legs. Loretta let out a keening moan as Tyler slid in and in and in, filling her until she wasn’t sure she could take it anymore from the amount of arousal coiling in her stomach. She gripped his bicep as Tyler settled into an easy pace, short and slow thrusts that had her moaning breathily every time his hips slapped against her own. 

“Takin’ me so good. Feel so good, Baby. Been wanting to do this for so long.” Tyler mumbled praises against her mouth as he fucked into her, his fat cock brushing against that sensitive spot deep inside her.

“Tyler.” She moaned feeling her climax starting to build

“I know, Baby. Me too. Let me feel cum for me, Doll.”

Tyler kept fucking into her at the same pace, slipping a hand between them to rub small circles on her clit. The sensation of his calloused thumb against her clit sent her over the edge, her pussy walls clamping down on him as her orgasm crashed over her in waves of euphoria. Tyler’s own thrusts became uneven and sloppy as he came, burying himself inside her as his cum spurted deep into her pussy. 

Loretta let out a shaky breath, smiling as she lazily kissed Tyler. Tyler gently shifted his hips, letting his softening cock slide out of Loretta with a low groan. She cupped his face, her thumb brushing his cheekbone as she pulled away from him enough to admire his face. 

“Been wanting to do that for a while, huh?” She teased.

“Mm.” Tyler hummed, pressing a kiss to Loretta’s shoulder. “Ever since I saw you after that rodeo last year. Just never knew you felt the same.”

Loretta huffed a laugh, stroking her fingers through his hair. “What about your saying.”

“My saying?” Tyler looked up at her from kissing her collarbone. 

“If you feel it?” Loretta grinned, watching Tyler’s confused expression morph into a grin of his own.

“Chase it.”

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Lifeguard (Discord Drabble)

"What ever could be the matter, my dearest companion?"

Eddie huffs and folds his arms. He can hear Robin's shit-eating grin behind him. Buckley is practically breathing down his neck, probably relishing in his bristling demeanour as he looks out over the chaos of Hawkins Public Pool on a hot summer's day.

When he discovered that his new boyfriend – Steve Harrington, The Hair, The Myth, The Legend himself – would resume his old position as head lifeguard at the local pool, Eddie figured it would be a lot different to this.

Steve's glistening suntanned skin. Eddie lathering up all that musculature with copious amounts of sunblock. That hairy chest heaving with exertion. His boyfriend acting like the real hero he is. That Speedo, stuffed full from every angle, plump ass to girthy –

"You are so pathetic," Robin laughs, playfully slapping Eddie on his (light lobster-red) shoulder as she comes into view.

"Shut up," he hisses, more at the sting of his skin – even if he did use an absurd amount of sunblock on himself.

"No need to flash those sad doe eyes at me," Robin chuckles, "How about I buy you an ice cream for your troubles?"

Eddie hums as he looks up at Steve, perched like a King on the lifeguard tower at the far end of the pool.

"I guess I could sit by Rapunzel's Tower and deep-throat a popsicle..."

"Maybe not that," Robin grimaces but links their arms nonetheless, "I have a much better idea. Come on, I think we'd better move our towels into the shade."

Eddie follows along, ignoring Robin's tone and her clear gawking at the colour of his shoulders. Instead, he watches Steve, enamoured now as his boyfriend peers over the top of his Wayfarers to look down at a bunch of dweebs causing a ruckus with excessive splashing. They are clearly bothering a mother wading with her kid at the shallow end and Steve shuffles forward in his seat.

Eddie gulps as he thinks – nay, hopes – that Steve's teeny-tiny red Speedo is riding up a little.

Steve readies his whistle and Eddie grins. He loves it when Steve gets all bossy.

He licks his lips as he conjures up ways to maybe get Steve to use that whistle on him.

But he doesn't get time to think up any kind of scheme because, in a flash, Eddie feels water splashing against his feet. Upon realising he is indeed a mere inch from the edge of the pool, Eddie turns, only to catch a glimpse of Robin's wicked smile.

And then he is falling.

The last thing Eddie hears before he falls into the pool is Robin's delighted shrieks calling for Steve's heroics.

[burn-it-all-for-your-love]

Sukuna x Reader

TW: swearing and slightly suggestive (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Sukuna is an absolute asshole, but you knew this already when you started dating him. He loves to be a little shit just to remind you.

A new episode of your favorite show was coming out. You had the snacks, the drinks, and even the cozy blankets ready. You had even managed to get Sukuna to come sit with you after copious amounts of begging and promises of kisses.

Everything was ready and you were all comfy curled up into Sukuna's side. There was just one problem though. The TV was on the wrong channel and you couldn't find the remote.

After grumbles and muttered curses, you get up from your cozy spot with Sukuna and start looking for the remote.

You search under the blankets, pretending not to notice Sukuna's big hands that drag yours toward him, right where he needs you. But you keep looking, determined to watch the premiere of your show.

You get on you hands and knees to check under the couch. Sukuna, being a little shit, slaps your ass before fondling it. You flip him off as you continue to look.

Then out of nowhere, you hear the TV change channels, coincidentally to one that Sukuna doesn't hate.

You shoot up from the floor and look at him suspiciously.

"Kuna, darling. Where is the remote?"

He smirks and shrugs playfully.

"I have no clue... Maybe you should keep looking."

You look at him suspiciously, but you eventually return to looking. Then you hear the volume increase and you spin to look at him.

"Ryomen Sukuna. Where the FUCK is the remote?"

He raises his eyebrows and laughs at you, not intimidated at all.

"You've got quite the filthy mouth, sweets. I'd recommend apologizing before I decide to take it personally."

You roll your eyes and start searching his hands for his remote. You search under where he's sitting and he chuckles.

"Oh are you feeling pent up?"

He teased you and you scoff and ignore him.

After checking everywhere else, you pull up his shirt and you see him shift to hide something.

"First you sass me and then you touch my ass, and now! You're stripping me like a common whore! How daring of you."

"Give me the remote goddammit! Sukuna you asshole!"

"You love it tho~"

You try pushing past him, but he's a big man, and it gets you nowhere. Finally, you sir on his lap and stare up at him with big doe eyes.

"Kuna, baby. Please. I just wanna watch my show and then I'll give you all my attention. I promise. But if you make me miss this, I will ignore you until the next episode. Next week."

He scoffs.

"Like you could ever last that long without me~"

You give him a serious look and he finally relents, handing over the remote and letting out a sigh as your eyes brighten.

"Thank you, Baby!"

You give him a sweet and happy kiss on his cheek before going to change the TV to your show, realizing that you'd only missed the first few minutes.

You watch it for a second more before turning to face him and whispering in his ear sweetly.

"You're so sweet, Kuna. As soon as this is over I'll make sure to show you just how thankful I really am~"

You sit on his lap as you watch your show, and if Sukuna was smirking the whole time, well, that was nobody's business but his.

[tonixe]

✢ Hot Secretary

A/N: Thank you, guys, for 883 votes, I am so surprised how many votes were cast in the polls. Sorry for the fic taking so long, and also make sure to drink water. <3

WARNING: p in the v, unprotected sex, cheating, oral sex implied, creampie, affairs. [may be deemed as dark content]

PAIRING: President! Coriolanus Snow x secretary! reader

WORD COUNTER: 1.8k

+ TAGS: @wildcatglove13

Working for President Snow wasn't an easy task or job. You had to make sure that the president was on top of his tasks and ran errands for him, after all, he was running a country of Panem. A large population that needed dot be governed by someone with good skills and attributes such as President Snow.

It came with copious amounts of paperwork and documents that needed to be filled, checked, and printed. And aside from the tedious amount of labor, the pay checked out.

But lucky for you, you managed to land the job. It wasn't a brainer to impress your employer with someone of your talent and skill. You were currently sitting at your desk, your well-manicured nails typing down onto the keyboard, reading as you wrote.

Black letter filling out the blank white document in front of you. Along with exceptional skills, you also have the upper hand with your attractiveness, curvaceous silhouette, and beautiful face, though it is always stained with a serious expression. Your eyes were hidden underneath your Bayonetta glasses, reflecting the light of your computer. On top of it, you always wore a prim, proper white collar shirt, that was almost always 'too tight' holding your chest and wrapping perfectly over your stomach.

Leather pants that hugged your ass, and a stiletto on your feet. It was mostly the part that made him hire you, your looks.

Your hair was always perfectly styled and brushed. You were too busy typing away at the computer, the clicking of the keys ringing in your ears. Your beauty tends to seize Coriolanus' attention, his eyes focus on your meticulous form, if it wasn't your face, it was your bosom in your tight shirt. He would always see a strict expression on your face along with a cold demeanor, coming into his office, and delivering important documents with a monotone voice.

You would always catch him looking when you turned yourself around or picked up papers, his eyes getting a better look at your ass in your tight leather pants. You weren't dumb or too oblivious to take account of his actions, you simply disregarded them.

Simply minding your business as you made yourself busy. You worked for the Snows for about a few months now, knowing the marital problems faced by President Snow and the First Lady were hidden from the public. You learned and noted the habits of Mr.Snow cheating on the first lady, Livia Cardew. She knew as well too, but you only ignored it, it wasn't a surprise knowing that the whole marriage was arranged, but you couldn't help to have a little altruism when you overheard her crying.

But you minded your business walking away, the sounds of your heels clicking on the delicate tile floor. After all, it wasn't your job to know or advise... You were a secretary, not a therapist.

It was a regular day, clocking into the Snow's household, walking around and checking in the employees, with a clipboard in your hand, making note of certain things. Coriolanus from afar gazed at you, ignoring the wedding band on his finger, which he carelessly wore, examining at your body in the skirt you wore. The thoughts of temptation ran through his mind.

Hearing the sound of shoes on the floor, looking to the side, "Mr.President" You greeted formally, "L/N " he responded back, before stopping at your side, "Are there any updates?" He asked, "No, Sir" You looked up at him, before looking down at the clipboard. He leaned towards your ears, "I need you in my office" he whispered, and you nodded, your eyes flickering back at the emoplyees you were once speaking to. Before putting the clipboard between your arms, and following him.

Your heels clicked on the flooring as you walked into the office, standing near his desk, and you watched him close the door behind him, sitting down in front of you. "You called, Sir?" you questioned, "Yes, I did" He respond, "I just wanted to congratulate you— ..and your work here" he began talking, "Thank you, sir" you responded to the compliments nonchalantly.

"Y/N" he glance at your standing figure, "Yes, sir?" you answered,

"Do you have a significant other" he questioned, you felt your cheeks getting red at the personal question making Coriolanus chuckle from your antics. You cleared your throat, "No sir, why?"

He got up and circled around you, you watched.

"I was just wondering—the way you dressed seemed like you had someone you were waiting for" he mumbled, you pursed your lips.

Standing in the center of the office, before feeling his body leaning over your backside, feeling his hard-on on your ass. Parting your lips, you eyed as his hand covered yours, his breath tickling your ears.

"Did you think I wouldn't get distracted with you in that skirt" He whispered, he started grinding himself on your ass. "Sir-" you mumbled, his hands fondling your body, his teeth nipping your skin, slowly bending you over on the desk.

"President Snow-" you panted, feeling yourself getting wet underneath your clothing. His finger was dangerous getting closer to your panties, "Get on the desk" He said, before withdrawing, feeling the weight of him off your body. As you obeyed getting on top of the desk, your skirt hiking up your thighs. His hands splayed on your thighs, before pushing you down onto the desk, raising your legs up in the air.

You felt the weight of his eyes on your body, your ears ringing out the sounds of your tights tearing, revealing your damp panties. Before he yanked it off, the cool air of the office hit your cunt, a moan slipping out from your lips.

"President-" you whimpered, "Call me Coriolanus, dove" the sound of his belt unbuckling made you weak. You peek down at the bulge in his boxers. "Coriolanus, please" You mewl, "I didn't know the secretary was a little slut" He teased, rubbing the back of your thighs, pushing them against your chest. Before taking out his cock from his boxer, looking away from the lewd scene.

Slapping his cock on your pussylips, you whimpered. "Your fucking desperate aren't you" he laughed at your miserable display, your cheeks red, your hands on the backside of your thighs, raising your legs up into the air. He wanted to take a picture of your erotic display. He slid his cock into you, pushing himself deep into your pussy. You bent your back at the pain recoiling in your system. His cock stretches you open, biting your lip at the pain.

His hips smacked into yours, his cock massaging your inner walls, his animalistic pace, as his cock bullies itself into your cunt. God, the way you looked underneath him looked like it was straight from porno, it made Coriolanus smile at the sight.

A once serious and reserved women, crumbling under his touch.

Coriolanus fingers popping the buttons of your collar shirt, revealing your black bra underneath the light layer. His hands massaging your mounds, the very ones that tempt him underneath your tight collar shirt. Moaning from the single touch as he rubs your peaks harshly, forcing his cock into as he snapped his hips into you.

His hands gripping on your jaw, forcing you into a kiss. Feeling his tongue exploring your wet cavern, moaning against his assault.

Locking your legs around his waist, feeling yourself slipping into the pleasure. Your eyes heavy, the temperature of your body rising. Gripping your fingers on the edge of the wooden desk, feeling yourself coming undone. Your ears perking up at the groans slipping from his lips, his hands holding the sides of your stomach, snapping his hips into you.

"Wait—" you yelped, feeling him emptying himself inside you, the warm liquid painting your walls white. Before he pulled out of you, his cock coated mixed cum.

You cringe at the sticky sensation between your thighs, as his cum dripping from you. Looking between your legs at the sticky mess, "Fuck" Coriolanus muttered, his eyes flickering to your limp display as he tucked himself into his briefs. He smoothed out his hair, before throwing you a was of cash. "Buy some birth control pills, I don't want another one running around" he groans.

You weren't lying if you said you were shocked but only nodded to his words, and got up from the desk. The cum leaks out as you slip your panties on and your skirt. You wondered how many women he did that to, not just you, fixing up the buttons to your top and walking out of his office. Though days from the incident, you still worked and completed papers, still typing away on the screen in front of you, but time again it happened.

More times than he buried himself into you, fucking you on his desk or between his legs sucking on his cock with your plump lips.

He would leave little gifts on top of your desk, with expensive jewelry inside, with a letter from him. Opening a letter with your manicured nails with dainty words from him and faux promises inside, even if you were to accept his words, it wouldn't be possible because of his wife. Putting the letter face down and staring at the gift bag with the luxurious brand etch on it.

You plainly ignored it, going back to daily tasks. And time again when you went out with Coriolanus to satisfy his pleasure, it would be meeting at one of his expensive penthouses or a lavish hotel, it was the same thing, time and time again, with him on you and touching you in places a married man shouldn't do to other women. It wasn't a surprise being Coriolanus's little secretary and him screwing up during hours or after. The affair wasn't hidden from the employees inside the Snow's manor, and it wouldn't be a surprise that the First Lady knows it.

But more of a surprise if she confronts her husband about his infidelity.

Looking at the computer screen you typed away, your ears perking up at the sound of heels on the tile floors, the steps echoing and bouncing around the walls of the west side of the manor. Looking up at the sound, you weren't surprised by the appearance of the First Lady. "Mrs Snow " you greeted blankly. An expression of fear, anger, and disgust printed on her face, "Where is the president?" She asked holding her hands to herself, "He's in a meeting" You answered, the answer seemed like something she wasn't looking for.

"I'll tell him that you came to see him—"

"No..he isn't in a meeting is he?" you heard her voice getting louder and enraged at every word that came out of her lips, "The President doesn't like anyone knowing where he is, he enjoys his privacy" You answered her coolly,

"He probably fucking one of his whores—and you are one too, aren't you, Y/N" You finally stopped typing and lifted your eyes from the computer screen, "Like I said, Mrs Snow, the president like his privacy.." you fully looked at the teary women in front of you,

"-And I prefer not to tell you about mine—I'll tell him that you stopped by, Mrs. Snow" The sentence leaving your lips was the final nail of the coffin for her, as she broke down onto the floor, her wails echoing around the manor. You stared at her weepy form before you called maids to escort her away, you wouldn't lie to say you did feel bad for her.

But you are just Coriolanus's little secretary nothing else, not a counselor, or an advisor just a cumdump for him and only him.

You squeezed your thighs feeling his warm cum leaking out from you as you stared at the First Lady getting escorted in front of you.

only his cumdump...and nothing else

[transingthoseformers]

For my personal mental tf continuity, if the Matrix "removed" (ripped out) from a still-living Prime, one of three things happens.

1: The shock from the forced removal instantly kills the Prime and forces the Matrix into dormancy, typically resulting in the Prime being unable to pass on for a time and haunting the shit out of their murderer

2: The Prime is forced into stasis and starts hemorrhaging energy without the Matrix to provide what their VERY advanced frame needs to function. While the Prime can be brought out of stasis, they will be Very lethargic and will require a constant intake of Energon until the Matrix is returned. The Matrix, meanwhile, will proceed with psychological warfare until their captor returns it to it's partner

3: Oh Fuck We Got Revenants. Basically the Prime gets stuck in berserker mode and WILL NOT STOP until reunited with the Matrix, typically by causing an extreme amount of Finding Out on the part of the idiot(s) who thought this would be a good idea. They will ignore any injury and will not tire or slow while in this state, and while they won't attack allies, they WILL throw them around if they get in the way. You cannot run or hide from this monster because it Knows Exactly where the Matrix is at all times, and will make a beeline towards it, making anyone or anything between them regret all their live choices.

Something to note is that I like to consider the Matrix and Prime partners and dear friends, so the immediate aftermath of a reunion is the two comforting each other.

The next immediate thing is copious amounts of ass-kicking

I mean, in my mind, considering what I saw in tfone, Orion distinctly died before he received the matrix and was brought back as Optimus, right??

So in my mind, the Matrix was wired into him in a way that was keeping him alive. It was part of him now. Megatron might as well have ripped out an integral organ in this au. Not to mention all the other stuff in Optimus's chest that Megatron would be breaking or pushing out of the way in order to successfully take the matrix (especially considering how close the matrix is to his spark...)

But!!!!!! Your suggested options here have interesting results!

[neiveel3llson]

Apple-Tinted Cheeks

Lucifer Magne x Afab! Reader≈ ` °

CW: Smut, use of strap, therefore afab!reader, Sub!Luci, Dom!reader, markings, darcryphilia, blood, use of master, no pronouns used, aftercare, begging, degredation, please inform me if I missed any!♡

Whimpers erupt from underneath your fast-moving frame as his eyeshadow runs down his apple-tinted cheeks, the makeup mixing with his oh so pretty tears, dropping onto the previously while pillow beneath him.

His backside is high in the air, his flushed, wet face stuffed into the soaked pillow beneath him, your strap relentlessly pounding into him. You hold his black wrists, pulling his ass irresistibly close to you, your hips hitting his already red backside while the pink, plastic cock stretches him out in a loving, perhaps, display of dominance and care.

"Oh- Ah! Hurts so- mmng- good, Master!" He keens pathetically, lustfully, his hands clawing into your own wrists while you keep your iron grip on his, refusing to let go even as blood trickles from his claws. You continue your brutal pace of punding into him, his own cock agonisingly hard against his stomach, cum already dripping down it and onto his plush pillow from his previous release, only mere minutes ago despite the fluttering feeling re-entering his stomach.

"Oh, I know, doing so, so well for me~" You slur seductively, leaning down so your bare chest is flush with his sweaty back. You lean down further, licking the bruises and crimson marking left on his porcelain skin. This was perfect. The King of Hell himself whimpering under you in a puddle of pillows and tears, his red ass claimed by your lust and your strap. The only thing that would make this better would be to have a clear view of his face, not having to wonder whether his tears made it look as ruined as his petite body.

"Slo- oh- ow down! Please! Ah!" He calls in a unbridled state of subspace, inching closer to the edge, his finish, with every swift thrist of the plastic cock, but he deserved this. After all, it was him who couldn't help himself from kissing your neck, who couldn't help himself from arching into your touch all day, teasing you while knowing you couldn't do jack shit. He knew what he was doing, ergo, this was a fit punishment.

"Do you not think you deserve this? After all you've done today, filthy slut." You degrade him, pushing his back even further down, getting an impossibility increadable angle to thrust into him, while also getting an increase in whines and gargled pleas. You could see the eyeshadow stains on the pillow, you could see his red ass, the scratches on his back, the bites and bruises on his shoulder and inner thighs. You saw everything, how ruined he was, and the fact that you caused this? Wow.

"No! I've- mmng- I've been go- od, ma- ah- ster!" He croaks out from the pillow, his voice nearly as ruined and used as his small body from copious amounts of moaning and screaming. It was hard to believe he truly thought he was good, by how bad and desperate he was acting lately, but something about the way he oleaded with you, begged you to believe he had no malice behind those pretty words, made you believe him.

You have no reply, simply watching in a state of pay per view as you absentmindedly ram your plastic cock into his gaping ass, his backside desperately trying to arch back and hump the silicone genital. His breath picked up substantially as you release his wrists, watching him immidietly sink his black claws into the sheets of the bed, ripping them in lustful ignorance. A pool of not only tears, but cum soon builds under him from his last release, only preparing him for the next release.

"Do you- do you deserve to cum?" You breathe out finally, your vision becoming hazy with heat and fatigue, the musk and warmth of sex lingering in the master bedroom. The bed rocked with each increasingly lazy thrust, Lucifer beginning to arch into the strap even more to keep the pleasure at it's highest, pushing his face into his pillow before turning to to the side, looking at you from the corner of his eye while you observe one half of his ruined face.

"Mmng! Yes! Plea- ah- se! Let me cum, Master!" He practically screeches, keening at your hips coming into contact with his backside, eyes rolling into the back of his head, despite you hardly doing anything anymore. Oh, how much he loved your approval. He'd rut into your leg, finishing on your boot and licking off his own cum as long as you permitted him to, the high and mighty King of Hell falling once more, now, into your clutch.

You simply nod at him, immidietly hearing him scream out 'master' as he finishes for a final time, his body falling limp.ahainst the leg and yours following soon.

Panting slightly, you get up, pulling out of him and shushing him gently as he let's out a whine over oversrimulation. You take off the strap, throwing it somewhere in the pongy room before leaning down once again, trailing kisses from Luci's cheek all the way down to his stomach, hearing him chuckle weakly.

"So, so good for me, baby.." You murmur against his sweaty chest, rubbing his back while slowly flipping him over.

"Shower?" You ask, to which he meekly shakes his head. Sighing, you reach down to the side of the bed, picking up a random discarded piece of clothing and wiping off his stomach and thighs, kissing the rosy apples of his cheeks gently with each wipe. He quickly falls asleep, mumbling something about 'goodnight, darling' before he does, leaving your grip and falling into the just as gentle arms of sleep, smiling as he dreams of you.

• . . • ° ° • . . • ° ° • . . • ° ° • . . • ° ° • . . • ° ° •

RUFF RUFF, ARRSHDJDJWNF

brain rot♡

[lacontroller1991]

Fluff/WhumpTOBER Day 9: Cooper Howard x GN!Reader

Day 9: "Don't do that!" "But..."/Obsession Masterlist Warnings: GA, language, gun use Word Count: 474

The door creaks open, years of hinges not being oiled causes a grating screech to resonate in yours and Cooper’s ears, not that either of you really cared. After years of being out in the wasteland you grow accustomed to small things that would have annoyed a person 200 odd years ago. Stepping into the house, your eyes widen with admiration at how preserved it is.

“Now how the hell did this place stay so goddamn clean?” Cooper asks from behind you, pushing you forward as he looks around the stuffy room. Aside from the copious amounts of dust, most everything remains intact. “Especially this close to the center.”

You don’t pay him any attention as you rustle through cabinets looking for supplies. A brief encounter with a deathclaw forced you to use a reserve stimpak that was for emergencies, and now that you’re out? Well, finding more became paramount. “I don’t see anything!” With a frustrated huff, you slam the cabinets shut.

Cooper raises a non-existent eyebrow as he fiddles with his bandolier. “Well, I already told you that the nearest town is 30 miles from here. Maybe you shouldn’t go wandering off without me knowing.” Grumbling at his words, you fold your arms, refusing to meet his gaze because he’s right. If you had just told him what you were doing and where you were going, maybe he could’ve told you that you were walking right into a deathclaw nest. Still, you had wanted to prove yourself to him as a worthy companion and failed immaculately. Yet, he still follows you. 

Brushing past him, your eyes search high and low for anything only to fall on a skeleton with a pen in its hand. Interesting. Piquing your interest, you kneel down to the ground, gingerly lifting the boney arm up while Cooper looks on with disgust. “Don’t do that! Let the poor fucker rest for Christ sake.”

Rolling your eyes, you take the piece of paper from under the hand. The safe. The safe? Your eyes flicker to a corner that is raised more than the other corners. A safe! “But Cooper! Look, there’s a safe!” 

“Probably ain’t nothing in there,” ignoring him, you cock your gun and pull the trigger, a sharp bang reverberating off the walls, blowing the safe wide open. 

Digging your hands into the safe, your fingertips graze what feels like a syringe. “Holy shit! Coop! We’re back in business!” He peers over your shoulder as you pull out several chems including stimpaks. 

Grabbing one of the vials, he inspects it with a grin. “Well, I’d be damned. Good job sweetheart. You’re not completely useless.”

“Gee, you sure know how to make a person feel special.”

“We’re even now after I saved your ass from that deathclaw.”

“We’re never even Cooper, we both know that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

[microfiched]

The battery in my trunk in my car died so I had to go to the auto store

So this guy is like lemme see your insurance so I can look up your car model cause it was me and my mom and I’ll be honest she does all the talking I do the jokes we love the arrangement

So I essentially pretended to look through my photos while I know she has my shit already and I’m tired of being ignored so I just scroll and this daddy ass of a man looks over and sees my copious (that is the highest amount I can document it’s that much) amounts of this slutty little triangle and cartoon old men

He helped some young women put their battery in and he was very sweet he seemed to realize I was “one of those” and only gave me

a slightly pointed look and said if I can’t bring up my info a cop is going to put me in jail and I can’t just say I’m bs looking

[starswritewhispers]

sunrise or sunset - prologue

A03

Chap 1

Suguru’s world ended 16 hours before the rest of the world had decided to catch up. He could hear the yelling outside his room, the obnoxious buzzing sound of his phone vibrating on the desk next to him, but he just stared blankly at the wall in front of him.

Satoru was dead. 

A comet could be seconds away from earth and he wouldn’t flinch. Satoru was dead .

A choked sound escaped from his lips and he quickly moved a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. He had just stopped crying, he couldn’t–

The tears came anyway, ugly, broken sobs that tore their way out of his body.  He left Satoru to die . It was his fault, wasn’t it?

His phone buzzed again.

Suguru ignored it.

He wasn’t going to the time vessel association, not to see Riko’s body, not to hunt down and fail again at avenging Satoru.  He couldn’t. His head fell between his hands, body shaking from the force of his sobs. Gone, Satoru was gone and he was wallowing like a fucking child “You’re acting like you should be at a funeral,” a cocky, all too familiar voice cut into his thoughts. “Satoru?” He demanded, head jerking up to meet the too blue eyes he thought he’d never see again. He could taste the familiar cursed energy in the air, the flavor so Satoru that he had to fight to hold back more tears from spilling.  “In the flesh,” the other boy crooned, running a bloodstained hand through his white–speckled with red– hair. “You didn’t really think I’d let that loser kill me did you?”  He was drenched in blood, more red stained his shirt than the original color but Suguru couldn’t find it in himself to care. He shot forward, launching himself at Satoru and wrapping his arms tightly around him. “You ass ,” he breathed, letting anger replace the hollowness that had been settling into his chest for the past 16 hours. “I thought you were dead for hours .” Satoru chuckled, running his fingers up and down Suguru’s spine. “Sorry,” he mused against the side of his head, pressing a soft kiss to his hair. “Had things to do.” His voice sounded off, distant and lofty in a way that was so similar to Satoru but so wrong . The sounds of the alarms blaring through the hall finally broke through to Suguru and he forced himself to pull away. “What,” His eyes trailed up and down Satoru’s– still alive!-- body,  finally forcing himself to acknowledge the copious amounts of blood.  Human blood. “What happened ?” “Mastered reverse technique,” he answered with a shrug, ignoring Suguru’s pointed look. “Avenged myself, Riko, and then decided to avenge all of us while I’m at it.” 

“What do you mean?” Suguru asked softly, voice barely able to be heard over the alarms. 

Enemy. They seemed to scream.  That’s what they were programmed for, after all. To alert the students, their teachers of when an enemy dared step foot onto their campus. “Ah, don’t be like that, Suguru,” Satoru’s grin was bloodsoaked as he looked at Suguru. “I fixed the problem.” 

“What did you do ?” He demanded, taking a small step away from his best friend, who frowned, tracking his moments. “ Satoru .” “I killed them,” he answered, a carefree laugh bubbling out of his lips. “All of them. Fushirigo, the association, the higher ups, all of them.” His smile had grown too wide, as unnatural on his face as the words spilling out of his lips. “I fixed it.” “You–” Suguru’s words caught in his throat, a rasping sound of shock slipping out instead. He could feel his own heartbeat, hear it pounding within him. Satoru Gojo was a curse user. 

His best friend–his other half–

He stared blankly at the man in front of him, mouth open in shock and horror. 

“I thought you’d be happier,” Satoru said with a tsk and a shake of his head. “But, I suppose you always were so self righteous.”  A frown tugged at his lips. “Y’know they’ll ask you to kill me, right.” Suguru mutely nodded, silently begging to wake up from the nightmare he was trapped in. 

“Y’know you won’t be able to do it, right?” Satoru continued, voice as casual as if they were discussing the weather. “Physically, or emotionally, I’d wager,” he snorted and it sounded so much like before that Suguru could feel the ache in his chest. “But they’ll still expect you to.” “Satoru,” he breathed out, hopelessly.   He felt as helpless as a monk praying at the temple of his fallen god, knowing an answer wouldn’t come but desperate for one anyways.

“I had a talk with the Zenins,” Satoru continued on, inspecting the flecks of blood on his nails. There was pounding on the door to Suguru’s dorm. “There’ll be,” his voice trailed off, head tilting to the side. “Four or so kids here soon. Take care of ‘em.” “Satoru,” Suguru repeated, staring at his bloodsoaked best friend. 

“I’ll see you around, Suguru,” he promised with a wink, before teleporting to wherever the fuck insane curse users ran off to. The world had ended 16 hours ago. Suguru must have just walked into hell. He forced himself to move towards the door, place his hand on the doorknob and face the crowd outside.

–

  Satoru had been true to his words, a week following the incident, four kids showed up at Jujutsu Tech, all different kinds of broken and battered. He recognized the Zenin twins from rumors, their fingers desperately clinging to each other while their eyes tracked every adult’s movement. Shoko had been the one to crouch down in front of them, voice light as she complimented the more timid– Mai on her kimono, while acknowledging Maki’s ‘impressive’ grip on the stick she held behind her back. Slowly, the two girls let their guard down around Shoko, small smiles passing over their faces. Suguru recognized Toji’s face in the younger boy of the other pair. “What’re you staring at?” The kid demanded, kicking a pebble into a shadow.  

Interesting. 

“Nothing,” Suguru said, tone level, as calm as it could be. “Just wondering why you’re so grumpy.” 

“I’m not–”  He cut himself off at his older sister’s failed attempt to stifle her giggles, a frown tugging at his lips nonetheless. “Whatever.”

–

Anytime new higher ups were elected, their disfigured bodies would be found the following morning. Nobody acknowledged the obvious fear that lay dormant in the air. They were at the mercy of Satoru Gojo.

Missions were at an all time low, and it was more typical to find two sorcerers on a case than one.  As if it’d matter, if they crossed paths with him.

 Haibara and Nanami were pulled off the edge of a train’s boarding platform by him.  Apparently, the curse they’d been assigned to fight was a higher grade than registered.

According to the reports, Haiabra thanked him, even as Nanami kept the other boy firmly shielded behind him. 

Suguru wondered if it bothered Satoru, to have become something that his favorite underclassmen felt the need to protect his boyfriend from.

–

Haibara had been with him when he stumbled upon the cage.  He’d held his hands up in a familiar pattern, his technique activating to freeze the non-sorcerers in place. “Get them out of here,” His usual sunny tone was darkened by the obvious anger lingering within it as Haibara motioned to the two girls. “We can raise them with the others.” Suguru nodded, slowly crouching in front of them and offering his hand. 

No blood was spilled that night. Suguru didn’t admit to anyone how much he wished that there was.

–

Satoru hadn’t been heard from in a while. Occasionally, someone would suggest reinstating the higher ups, and the world was cruelly reminded of Satoru’s existence once the body was found. Suguru and Shoko seemed to be the only ones who couldn’t forget, even while raising six kids between the two of them. Satoru would’ve been a good father, Suguru thinks.

Utahime moves in with Shoko. Suguru wishes there was a way to exorcize jealousy.

—

Suguru became a teacher, the same year Yuuta Okkotsu had gone missing. When the news of his lineage, his technique, his power went public, the long dormant fear slowly sinking its way back into their hearts. Everyone knew, but nobody spoke it aloud. Satoru Gojo had taken Yuuta. He had a plan.

Suguru figured he should care.

He didn't.

–

The world ended when Satoru Gojo became a curse user, but it began again. It always had to, whether or not Suguru wanted it to.