#inner thigh rash

[girlscience]

👉😠👈 -> ☄️💥🔥

me using psychic powers to blow up always brand period products

[lesbidykez]

OW

[hoshigray]

𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 | nanami kento

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: dom! Nanami x fem/afab! reader - nipple play - hair pulling - doggy style + deep impact positions - restricted movements (using his tie on your hands) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, love, sweetpea) - clitoral play - orgasm denial.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Oops, I did it again. Nanami being rough with his hands on your body. That's it, that's the tweet. Smthn quick thanks to MAPPA serving good food to the nanami fanatics on this week's ep

We all know Nanami Kento would treat his partner with the utmost care. There is no man you can put your entire faith in when it comes to your body than him. He's always perfect with you. Checking up on you to see if you're okay, rubbing circles on your back to calm you down from a haze, wiping tears on your face whenever he makes you feel so goddamn good. And let's not forget the kiss on the forehead he places so gently as he fucks you lovingly.

In terms of lovemaking and treating your body right, Nanami is undeniably the perfect candidate…

…However, there will occasionally be those moments when you’d want him to be just a tad rough with you. Nothing wrong with the soft, cutesy shit. No, no, you love it!  But let’s face it; when you have a man who looks so deliciously alluring to the eye, with his broad shoulders and strong forearms that peek from his dress shirt, you can’t blame your mind for indulging with wilder thoughts. Especially when you express said thoughts to him.

And he listens to your request with his absolute attention. He’ll ask for confirmation before he does anything rash. And when you give him the green flag, your fate is sealed for the rest of the night. 

“—Ggaahhh!! Ahaahnn!! Ken–Kentooo, you’re going—OhmyGod, OhmyGoood—“

“Shhh, don’t squirm too much, love.” He’ll whisper to your ear so hotly you nearly fall to your knees had it not been for his leg between yours, essentially making you ride his sturdy thigh. Your back pressed up against his abdomen while his hands roamed your body. One hand in your shirt, slipping your bra up to release your breast from the material, and for his hands to knead and play with your mounds. The other stuffed down your shorts and passed your panties, his fingers intimately close to your hot, wet folds. And you jerk when his ring finger presses down on your clit.

“Ahooo! Kento, stop, stooop!!” You don’t want him to stop — he knows you don’t want him to stop. “I’m gonna cum, it’s gonna happen—Nnnnmm!!!” He tweezes your nipple roughly, evoking an erotic shriek. 

“You better come on me,” he demands you. Oh, how he sounds so hot when he does that. “Make my hand filthy like you, baby.”

But that’s only the beginning. Wait until you two move into the bedroom with his pelvis rutting onto the cusp of your ass. Face down to the pillow and ass up for Nanami to station you, and his hand in your hair, lightly tugging it. Sweat shields your body and glistens from the bedroom lights, your hands tied behind your back by his necktie. You’ve left with nothing to stand your ground, forced to take in his cock that churns your inner walls. And, God, it feels so fucking good. 

“How’re you feeling there, angel?” Nanami, his pants and tie discarded with his shirt no longer buttoned up. The fingers in your hair massage your scalp. “Hmm? Are you feeling good?”

“…Uhhaaa—Ohohhh!” There’s no way you could give him a proper response in a position like this. Your head is so far gone that all you can think about is the commotion between your legs. The deeper he grinds his cock into your chasm, the deeper you sink into your blissful fog. Your hips begin to move involuntarily at this point; it just feels too exhilarating to stop! 

However, attending to your bliss has its faults, especially when you’re not paying attention to the man making you feel this way. Because Nanami pulls your hair, forcing your face upright from the pillows. You cry at the sudden yank, exposing the drool and tears that trickle down your pretty face.

“You know better than that, Y/n.” His serious voice is on, your cunt twitches around his length. “I need your words to let me know how good you’re feeling.”

“Ahck—Mmmm…S’ too good, Kentooo. Y’ make me feel so good. So fucking—Ahannn…good….” did you mean for your words to slur? Who cares. Just don’t stop; please keep it going. Please, please, please—

Nanami chuckles at your words and lets your face fall back to the pillow. “Good.”

But don’t think the fun stops there. Nope. It just keeps getting better. 

With your hands still tied, you now lie on your back to the comforter while he pistons his cock into you, one of your legs now on his shoulder to get a better angle to hit your sweet spots accurately. The wails you let out are uncontainable — there’s no point in stopping them from flying out your mouth. Your bottom lip is puffy from how much you’ve bitten it this entire time, and more tears fall to your neck.

Nanami looks at your expressions intently, mocha eyes never leaving your gorgeous face. It’s here that he finally withdraws his shirt and fucks you nude, sharing this intimate heat and passion with you. And, lord, he looks so fucking good right now. His tidy golden hair now with strands sticking to his forehead, sweat shared between your naked bodies, and his beautiful brown orbs taking you in like you’re the greatest treasure in the world. 

“Ohhfuck, ohhhfuuckin—Ohhh!!!” Oh, God. With the way the tip of his cock precisely hits and scrapes your tender spots, you can feel your climax coming to get you. “Kento, Ken–Nnmphh, I’m gonna, I’m gonna—“

And then it vanishes. It didn’t come. Why? Because Nanami immediately removes his length from your slick-coated slit, the electrifying tingles in your body subside in seconds. Of course, you whine to him with doe, tearful eyes. So cruel. He’s so just cruel, but you love it.

“Mmmm, sorry, sweetpea.” You know he’s not sorry. The tiny mischievous glint in his eyes is telling. “Let me hear you beg for it first, the I’ll give my baby what they want.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 — dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[allurilove]

Yandere Professor x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: sweet talking, breath play, age gap, fucking in his classroom, pretty gender neutral, manipulation, abuse of power, obsessed professor.

*Everyone is of age, and older than eighteen. He is referred to as “your professor” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: He’s your strict professor, and you’re trying to get a better grade. You’ve never seen him be swayed by a student before, perhaps you would be the first.

Your grade has tanked by a lot. You had an unreasonable professor, the man was picky, and on your last test it was covered in corrections by that damn red pen of his.

You began to wonder what it would take for him to give you an A.

You wouldn’t consider yourself to be a bad student. In fact, this is the first time you have been close to failing. It was honestly your fault, you’ve read the reviews on this teacher and still chose to take the class anyways. You just wanted to challenge yourself.

You gawk at the paper he hands back to you. Your eye twitched at the big fat zero out of a hundred, and that might’ve been impressive just in itself. Not even one question right. You narrow your eyes at the professor who was still handing out the quiz back to the students.

When class ended, you slowly packed up your things, and you kept tabs on how many students were still left in the classroom. When the last student left, you got up from your seat, and stormed your way over to the professor.

Any sliver of dignity you had was gone. Your cheeks still flushed when he announced the lowest score to the whole class. You pushed that memory aside, and you crossed your arms as you stood in front of his desk.

“I don’t have time for this.” Your professor sighed, and his brows furrowed as he loosened up his tie.

He knew why you were coming over to talk to him. This was the worst grade you have gotten in his class. And really, he’s not surprised. In his opinion you have been slacking off. Your body bristles at his words, his eyes are cold and unforgiving.

Maybe if you weren’t a rash individual, you would’ve seen that his comments on your test was totally fake. Every circle and outline with a tiny scribble on the side? That was his way of professing his love for you, and about fifty “I love you’s.” were on the paper, but he knew you wouldn’t read them.

He did know that the grade would haunt you. He did know that it would make you desperate enough to come to him during office hours.

Your professor watched you with amusement as you crawled onto his lap, and you guiding his hands onto your body. He could already feel his dick stirring in his pants.

“This is hardly appropriate.” He said in a disapproving tone, though his hands do cup at your chest.

His thumb circles around your nipple, and the rest of his fingers gently squeeze at opportunity you have given to him. His other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly in his lap.

It felt like you were trying to chip away at his resolve, his face was stern, and he listens to you rant on about the grade he gave you. Though, him letting you sit on his lap, let you subtly grind on his growing erection. With every whine and pout, you tried to play with his heart strings.

Your professor sighed, shook his head, and tried to pretend that there was no way you could make up for it. His hand slowly, and quietly, opening his drawer to grab for a condom.

It didn’t take long for him to agree when you took off his glasses, your lips capturing his in a searing kiss. He followed your lead, letting you feel like you were in control.

His hands groping at your ass and he puts you onto his desk, his body moving his way in between your legs. You wore something easy to slip off, your shorts and underwear now down to your ankles. He caressed your inner thighs, his lips now trailing down to your neck.

Your professor licked and sucked at your skin, his teeth gently nibbling at you, and he made sure to leave marks.

“You can be quite cute like this…” The older man mumbles, “…so pretty, so perfect.” he took a deep inhale as his nose was buried into your neck.

“Oh shit.” Your professor growled, his belt falling to the floor and his pants were pulled down roughly.

Before you knew it, he ripped open the condom wrapper and he slid it on his cock. He spit on his hand for lube, and gave his member a few pumps. He aligned his tip against your warmth.

His hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing the side of it, as his hips began to rock itself. His dick hit the deepest part of you, he went slow, and he was determined to find your sweet spot.

“Don’t be upset…” He cooed, and he kissed you in between his words. “I had to give you a zero.”

“You weren’t understanding my hints.”

He needed you. He wanted to be with you the moment you stepped inside his room, or maybe it was when he found out you signed up for his class. Your name was interesting to him, your looks, and the way you carried yourself got him hooked.

He took a couple points off on your first test, just to see what you would do. You certainly didn’t deserve it, and he thought you would’ve challenged him on it, or come talk to him. Or even offer your body to him sooner.

He did it over and over again, until you were on the verge of receiving an F. He was getting frustrated, and you were a damn tease.

He was never like this before, and if you exposed him, he could lose his job. But maybe then he could be with you in public? He let out a deep groan, his eyes rolling back as he was fucking you for his release.

Your professor didn’t realize that your face was turning pink, your nails scratching at his hands that were on your throat, and you were on the verge of cumming. You gasp as he finally let you breathe, his hands now on the desk behind you.

The room was filled with his vocalizations, his whimpers, his mumbles of how good you feel, and how much he needed this.

He even called you his baby, his good student, love, and when you finally came— his eyes were glued to the white substance dripping out of you.

That was when he knew you were going to be his. He was going to be the only one that could make you feel this way.

That day, you received the A you have been wanting. But you also indulged the man that’s been pining after you, and he never stopped.

Allure: Idk why, but i’ve been really active lately omg.

[innerfare]

Going Down On You - Part 2

Summary: how they go down on you

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Mihawk, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Corazon, Smoker

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // oral sex, shameless dirty talk, Doflamingo is a menace

——— 

Shanks: 

Swears it’s a hangover cure, and this man is hungover every single morning. He’ll wake up with a pounding headache, and before he’s even opened his eyes, he’s reaching for you. He’ll paw at you like a lazy animal until you remove your panties for him and he can fall face first into your delicious cunt. He’s trained your cunt like Pavlov’s dog, too, so that you wake up wet in the morning, your clit throbbing like an alarm clock. 

“Always ready for me,” he’ll mumble in his raspy morning voice. “Nice and wet. That's my girl.” 

You actually get a rash on your inner thighs from his stubble constantly rubbing against your sensitive skin, and you have to sheepishly approach Hongo for some sort of cream. Hongo has been on the Red Force long enough that he’s not phased, though you are so embarrassed you try to ban Shanks from going down on you for a while (spoiler alert: it doesn’t work). 

“I’d rather lose my arm than skip breakfast.” 

He’ll spend most of his time between your legs licking with broad strokes of his tongue, only pointing it and attacking your clit when you’re already on the brink of orgasm. He’ll finger you as you cum and won’t stop until you’re a crying mess, begging him to stop. Of course, he’ll only stop for as long as it takes him to get his cock out and push it in. 

Beckman: 

"Come here, babygirl. That's it."

Beckman drinks your juices like a nightcap. He’ll put you on his desk, the moonlight filtering in through the window and a lamp flickering in the corner, and unzip his pants to give his massive erection some breathing room before turning his attention to his babygirl. He likes to start slow, taking his sweet time with your nipples and leaving a trail of hickies around them, before finally burying his face between your shaking legs.  

“Give daddy a taste.” 

He’s nice and sweet about it, but don’t think he won’t hold you down if you start to squirm around too much. He goes down on you like you need it, not like you want it; he goes down on you like it’s for your own good. It’s for his own good, too, that thing that takes the edge off and helps him wind down after a stressful day. He wants your legs wrapped around his head and your hands tangled in his long hair. 

Oh, and he wants you to tell him that he owns you. Nobody else is allowed to taste your pussy; it's all his, and you'd better chant that while he draws your orgasm out of you.

Mihawk:

A proponent of fine dining. 

Will eat you out on the table, which kind of makes you feel like he’s doing it in public because his dining room is so large and there are massive windows with no curtains covering them; his insistence on you removing every article of clothing, not just your panties, and sitting on the table, feet on the edge, holding your legs as far apart as they’ll go only makes you feel more exposed. All the while, he remains entirely clothed. 

He’ll scold you if you wrap your legs around him. It’s his meal and he’s going to enjoy it precisely the way he wants, and the way he wants is uninhibited. He drags it out, too, edging you multiple times and lecturing you about delayed gratification if you complain. When he does finally allow you to cum, he tortures your clit for a moment after to be certain he saw you through your entire orgasm.  

Other times, he’ll be sitting in his chair and see you walk by and say, “y/n, come here.” He’ll have you strip down before laying you on the coffee table and working an orgasm or two out of you. Enjoys it so much that at times when he’s training or preparing for something, he’ll ban himself from indulging in your pussy because he needs to be focused. 

Crocodile:

Sir Crocodile has a big cock, but he normally stretches you with his fingers. Oral sex isn’t foreplay to him, it’s a separate thing entirely. He normally engages in it very late at night or very early in the morning when he’s exhausted and you’re half asleep. He’ll run his hand down your body, stopping briefly to massage your breasts, before pulling your legs apart. 

“Wake up,” he might grumble in your ear. Or he might not, instead waking you up with a few kisses to your clit.  

He probably kisses your pussy more than he kisses your mouth. He’ll make out with your leaky opening, swapping your juices for his saliva, part of him wishing he still had his other hand so he had more fingers to torture you with. But he’ll settle for one, going back and forth between your nipples and squeezing them until you cry out, then squeezing them some more.  

He doesn’t talk to you while he does it, a far cry from how he mocks and argues with you during penetrative sex. When he’s in an especially bad mood, he doesn’t take his hook off, and you wake up with it pushing into the soft flesh of your thigh, a silent warning not to close your legs on him. And when he’s finished, he’ll push you back to your side of the bed without a word. 

Doflamingo: 

Part of being his toy means being tormented with his tongue. He has a fucking giraffe tongue, and he puts it to good use, often laying back in bed and making you ride it like it’s his cock, moving it out of the way and then making fun of you when you struggle. He makes you talk to him the entire time, and when you’re not sitting on his face, you have to make eye contact with him. 

He’ll talk to you, too, and is so fucking patronizing. 

“Use your words, little one. Come on, you can do it. Don’t tell me it’s too much for you.” 

Uses a lot of different toys while he’s going down on you, typically a butt plug and nipple clamps. Has most definitely used a transponder snail to take pictures of your wet pussy, flush and swollen after he spent an entire afternoon tonguing it; the clicking sound of the snail camera was so humiliating but it made your pussy throb so much harder. 

One of his favorite things in the world is tying you up with his strings and spitting on your cunt. He has, on a handful of occasions, tied you up and allowed his subordinates to lick your pussy, but never lets them taste your cum; right when you’re on the edge, he’ll take over and make them watch while he takes your orgasm all for himself, usually with his cock. 

Corazon: 

Eating your pussy is his stress relief. The number of times you burned dinner because you were cooking and he came home in the middle and bent you over the counter for an appetizer is unreal. He always apologizes, but he doesn’t feel bad enough to stop doing it; he can’t stop doing it. And you’d be cruel to make him considering you can feel the tension leave his body as soon as his tongue runs through your folds. 

“I needed this so bad. Thank you so much.” 

When he’s not bending you over a counter, he wants you riding his face, and none of that hovering shit, either. He’ll wrap his arms around your thighs and hold you flush against his face, moaning as he laps at your folds.

“I can tell you need it, too. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” 

He’s so sweet about it, it’s unreal. Smiles the entire time, places so many sweet kisses on your clit and opening. A big fan of the two finger and tongue combo. Can work an orgasm out of you in record time. Never fucks you without making you cum at least once on his tongue (he’s 9’7 and his cock is proportional). 

Smoker: 

Smoker almost always ends up eating his cum out of you. He’s gone for weeks, even months at a time, and when he walks through that door, you’re dropping your panties or he’s ending it all. He has so much pent up energy he absolutely has to fuck you, but that doesn’t change the fact that what he’s been jerking off to every night is the thought of tasting you. 

“Don’t think for a second we’re finished yet.” 

He’ll take breaks to kiss you on the mouth, making you taste yourself. And then he’ll work his way back down your body, leaving hickies on your neck and biting your nipples before he’s back between your legs again, pushing his tongue into your hole to get every last drop of both of your juices out, his thumb seeing to your aching clit. 

You won’t even make it to the bed, he’ll just fuck you against the wall or on the counter and then drag you onto the floor to lick your cunt. He’s attempted to get you to the sofa before, but you just end up pushed against it while still on the floor, or else bent over the arm or sitting on the edge while he kneels between your legs. 

Also, the two of you don’t shower together often, but for some reason, the times you do shower together, he always ends up with his face between your legs. You’ve wasted so much water because he can’t keep his damn tongue to himself. And when he’s finished, he always places a few sweet kisses at your entrance as if to reward you for behaving. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[kisses4kaia]

I've been looking everywhere for new challengers content so I'm GLAD you're asking

idk if you just want thoughts or like fic ideas (I have both if you want to let me know) but I'll start with the thoughts cuz I needed to talk about patrick zweig 24/7 sorry

I can't stop thinking about marking him/him marking me LET ME EXPLAIN just in every way possible, hickeys, bite/scratch marks, all kind of bruises (given very lovingly and consensualy ofc)

him being so cocky for basically branding and claiming you BUT being even more proud of the marks on his own body, wearing slightly shorter shorts on the court the next day so it's showing a little etc...

anonnnnn this is too good to be true thank u (college!patrick x college!reader)

you and patrick zweig were not exclusive.

he ran around his tennis court, campus, parties, the city, getting in bed with whichever warm body welcomed him—you never knew him to be picky—and you did similarly, just not nearly as indulgent as he.

but for being just friends who fool around from time to time, patrick was awfully careless. his hands would get greedy and leave lasting bruises on your hip-dips (love handles, as he likes to call them), and his cologne lingered due to his insistence on you wearing his clothes while he fucked you.

all of the tell-tale signs of his familiarity with your body weren’t fooling anybody, but more than anything it was the marks. he loved displaying his whereabouts on your body with his mouth, and there wasn’t much that could top hearing the stutter in your voice when somebody points out the nasty rash on your collarbone. there was not much, but there was something.

the one thing patrick zweig adored more than marking you, was your marking of him. it wasn’t even the product of the love-bites he liked the most, although he was quite fond of those, but it was the feral cloud that overtook you, the heat of the passion getting to you and throwing your caution to the wind. it was the eagerness you had to really fuck him well, the best. making him feel your need and desires and all of your experiences without words through your sex was his favorite part—one of yours, too. and if that meant hurting him (at least a little bit) for him to get the sentiment, you could do that.

and even when he claims you went a little bit overboard, patrick still shows up to practice with you, shorts a little shorter due to what only could have been an intentional scrunching, spreading his heavy legs on his seat with his crotch and inner-thigh hickies exposed.

art shook his head and laughed when he saw them, and the look on your face seeing them, too. all his brunette friend could say in response was “you wish that was you, huh?” nodding down to art’s glares’ subject.

the retort was taken in good jest, but the flush of his friend’s cheeks at the comment made patrick wonder what both you and art would look like with matching stains of skin, whether it be hickies or bruises on love handles. he smiled at the thought, and stood to play.

[skineasi]

SkinEasi regina anti rash gel helps to prevent inner thigh rash, sanitary pad rashes, under breast rash, and underarm rash. Buy rub rash gel for women online.

[luveline]

Idk if you’re still taking requests for Hotch but if you are— when I have bad anxiety I get a head to toe rash- hives and super itchy/hot. And Hotch comforts them/takes care of them, lots of reassurance. Thank you!

thank you for your request ♡ gn!reader

"Don't be so rough with yourself," Aaron says. You're in such a sad mood that he's managed to become the chipper one of you both. "Let me see." 

"I'm not being rough," you insist, smoothing Aloe Vera down your leg with two cruel hands.

You're being normal. Anything beyond petting is too mean for Aaron, though, and he takes your hands. 

Sleeves rolled to the elbows already, he certainly doesn't care about how messy and gross this feels. Head to toe, hives spot your skin. They crop up whenever you feel acutely anxious, worsen your anxiety by ten, and then linger unhealed. Aaron never signed up for this, and he's never baulked either way. You might even say he likes it. Not your incessant itching, but getting to help. 

Your foot on the bed, leg held up, he squirts Aloe Vera into his hands. It's cool, kept in his fridge specifically for you, a gesture that manages to cheer you up some.

"You're rough," he affirms, passing big palms up and down the flanks of your shin with a familiarity to aid your calm. His touch feels better than any medicine, though the itchiness prevails, and you're glad for it when he stops and ushers your opposite leg onto the bed. 

You curl a hand into his shirt to stop from falling over. "Sorry," you say. 

"It's okay. Don't worry about it, honey." 

"It's gross."

"Not any more gross than me." He's methodical at first, spreading the translucent gel in equal palmings down the length of your leg. He forgets what he's doing halfway through, feeling at your knee and inner thigh like he would laying in bed together, touching just to touch. 

"You don't get hives when you worry." 

"No, I get wrinkles. Mine are permanent, so really, you shouldn't complain." Your laugh makes him smile, happiness stickying his tone as he murmurs, "I should say sorry to you. I'm harassing you." 

He pushes the hem of your pyjama shorts up a touch as he spreads cold gel there. The linen shorts stick to the gel as soon as he moves his hand. You fan your face, feeling uncomfortably hot and scratchy. 

Aaron helps you put your foot back down on the floor and sizes you up. You've managed to cover pretty much every hive at this point, your skin shining with a green hue if you catch it in the light the right way. 

He sits down at the top of the bed and opens his nightstand drawer. Inside is a number of things, a cell phone, pills, a bag of throat soothers. He reaches toward the back and unveils a handheld fan, charged and raring to go as he turns it on and points it in your direction. The Aloe Vera suddenly feels wetter, the cold providing a quick relief. 

He's already asked you what's worrying you. He knew before the hives that something was wrong, not just because he's a profiler. He really, truly cares. Aaron's frowning now like the pain is his own, waving the fan in a gentle side to side. Your eyes slip closed, content to feel it wash over you like a rare breeze in the middle of summer. 

"You know the worst part about all of this?" he asks. 

"What, baby?" you ask, lips barely parted. This is the most escape you've found all day. "You can't kiss me?" 

"I can't kiss you," he says firmly. "How'd you know?" 

"You always say stuff like that." 

"You always provoke me…" Aaron shifts closer, taking your hand into his. "Feeling any better?" 

You preen at his soft touches, his thumb skirting lightly across your fingertips. "A little." 

"This is better than the Chinese menu, right?" 

Aaron had taken to fanning you with takeout menus whenever you got too hot before his recent purchase. He fanned you for hours, until you could imagine the twinging ache in his biceps, his overworked wrists, never once complaining. 

"This is amazing, Aaron, thank you," you breathe out. 

He kisses your fingertips. "You're welcome." 

[callsign-datura]

i loved your post describing ghosts dick! could you make one for another member of the 141? i love them equally so i dont care which one of them <3

Price... 6.7 inches. 17 centimeters. he's not very thick, but his dick is obsession-worthy. he's a menace. he knows how to fucking use what he's got. loves to fuck missionary and switch, sitting back on his legs and lifting you up by your hips to drag you onto him, splitting your cunt out on his cock and hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing white. this man fucking loves the faces you make. he stares at you so often, and this man knows about microexpression. he can tell if he hurts you on accident, he can tells if you're really liking something he's doing, and he takes advantage of that. 6.7 inches, 17 centimeters when he's hard. he's veiny, though. his cock is littered with them, and it's a real sensation ride whenever he's fucking you. he's heavy, too. even when he's hard and proud, it hangs a bit, and that's another reason why he likes missionary or when you're on your back or on your knees with your ass up and your front half down. it makes it a bit easier and doesn't really cause him to strain when he fucks you. don't even get me started on how it feels. your walls clamp on him over and over again when he's fucking you, cause goddammit, feeling his weight inside you is borderline comforting, even when you're on the verge of cumming. he also doesn't let his pubes grow too long. keeps himself trimmed. sometimes if he hasn't trimmed or shaved in a while, he doesn't like it when you surprise him while he's working; mostly because he doesn't want to give you a rash from the consistent friction, so he'll take extra care in fucking you during those times. he can never stay mad at you when you start panting and whimpering like that. and inevitably you do end up with a small rash on the inside of your thighs after, but he'll kiss it better, don't worry. he's vocal. very, very vocal. keeps his voice stern and low as he talks to you, talking you through each orgasm he inflicts on you, talking you through it as he overstimulates you... his voice never wavers. not very often, anyway. sometimes it'll shake a little when he whispers to you and he's about to cum, and you relish in it; that little tremor that fades into a grunt? holy fuck. cumming on the spot. slow fucker as well. slow and rough. bucks into you and pulls out slowly before bucking into you again, purring in that raspy voice of his at you as you mewl for him in that pretty voice of yours. angles his hips upward when you're on your back to drag along your inner wall, bucking deeper as if he's trying to mold his body with yours; which, in a way, he is. he wants nothing more than to stay inside you for however long he can. bonus kink list: cockwarming. no explanation needed. overstimulation, he kinda likes to see you whimper and grimace when he touches your over-sensitive flesh. always begs you for another, convincing you that you can take another; you can, after all. you end up cumming around 2 more times after that. breeding kink. no explanation needed for this one, but i will explain it anyway. if you're ever apart and he needs some kind of relief and he starts thinking about stuffing his cock into you and filling you up with his cum? hard on the spot oh my god. definitely wakes up hard if he dreams about you guys ever having kids.

[anonpolls]

Note from Anon: “This poll brought to you by me griping to a friend that the heat rash on my inner thighs was so painful that it was slowing me down; they had no idea what I was talking about because their thighs don’t rub together, which is something I didn’t know was possible? | No judgement on anyone’s experience or body type, I was just surprised to learn that thigh friction isn’t a universal experience!”

-submit your poll!-

[bubuslutty]

headcanon: John Price likes to play with your clit until it hurts.

pairing: fem!reader x John price

word count: 1.4k

tags: dom!price, sub!reader, overstimulation, cumming untouched, oral (f receiving), subspace, fingering, manhandling, strength kink, pain kink ig, stomach bulge, size kink, rutting, making out, biting, crying, squirting, dirty talk, praise kink, spit kink, face slapping (not too hard tho, doesn't hurt), aftercare, use of words such as cunt + hole, she/her, no use of y/n, 3rd person pov, no physical descriptions of reader

warnings: THIS AINT NO RATED MOTHER FUCKING PG SHIT. THIS SHIT RATED PORN.

summary: uhhh I got this hc from a tiktok slide show abt nsfw cod hcs okay 🧍‍♀️ my gallery is filled with them.

a/n: I had to take multiple breaks while writing this. it's proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes, bon appétit bitches 💞

☆ John would spend hours between his lovey's legs, mouth sucking, licking, nipping and tongue shoved inside her wet hole repeatedly, mean and intense.

☆ would also pinch and rub her little clit, making her whine and cry even more

☆ would absolutely devour her, kiss and suck and bite her inner thighs, making the skin red and sensitive using his teeth and beard

☆ beard rashes!!!

☆ he would beg for her to squirt on his face, "Come on, lovey. Do it, do it for me, please?"

☆ King of dirty talk + praising at the same fucking time!!!

☆ "You taste so good, lovey. Look at your cunt, it's all wet, hm? Are you going to cum? Drench my face?"

☆ At first he would probably go gentle and slow, continuously kissing her stomach and hips while his fingers are deep inside her, opening her up just for his mouth, not even his cock.

☆ "Look at you, drooling all over me pillows. Did I fuck you stupid, sweetheart? But I'm just using my hands and mouth."

☆ "I haven't even fucked you properly, your sweet cunt's crying for me, hm?"

☆ "Sweet little slut, do you like having your clit sucked? Hm, yeah, yeah you do."

☆ Then at some point he would lay on his back, roll his baby on his front, chest to chest, pin both of her hands on her back with one strong hand and use the other to mercilessly fuck her hole with three fingers until she's crying and screaming, clit repeatedly rubbing against his happy trail, leaving wet marks on his skin and making her clit all red and swollen.

☆ John thrives in feeling her shake against him, her sweaty chest heaving up and down while she has her face buried in his neck, mouthing at his skin, unable to shut her mouth and stop any noises from spilling out.

☆ he can even feel her stomach bulging out when he drives his fingers in a bit too hard, which never fails to make his cock jump, all swollen and dripping all over itself and balls.

☆ and it would hurt. her pussy is aching and her clits all swollen and rubbed raw. but it feels good. so fucking good as long John is there. as long as he's the one touching her.

☆ He would keep this up, for so fucking long, changing positions and all, just to turn her into a mess, a literal rag doll, unable to open her eyes properly, or even able to remember her own name.

☆ He would lay her on her stomach and proceed to rut against the space between her cunt and hole until he comes all over her ass.

☆ John would lay on his side, drag his baby on her side, her back glued to his warm and ticklish chest, throw one of her legs over his thighs and bury his fingers inside her cunt while his other arm is cushioning her head and his fingers are holding her mouth open.

☆ He would kiss her swollen lips, spit inside her mouth and rub her own drool all over her pretty pink lips while she's panting and whining.

☆ John would manhandle her the way he wants all the time, not afraid to use his strength to get what he wants.

☆ At some point, he would lay her on her back, hover above her legs, pinning her against the mattress while using one of his hands to pin her arms above her head, to stop her from squirming.

☆ He would grab her chin between his bigger thicker fingers and hum, seeing her glazed eyes, eyes absolutely dark and fucking gone. And he hasn't even fucked her with his dick. But it's alright, because his baby is so fucked out of her mind, she hasn't even noticed.

☆ "Lovey, look at me."

☆ Lovey doesn't look at him, she can't even see straight and just keeps panting with her mouth open, face squished against the soft pillows.

☆ John slaps her cheek, never too hard to hurt, making her gasp and he grabs her chin a bit hard, dragging her face towards his.

☆ When she finally manages to meet his eyes, he smiles, eyes full of love and adoration, "There she is."

☆ "What's your name, lovey?" John asks and watches his baby blink at him, as if he spoke in a different language.

☆ He reaches down with one hand and pinches one of her nipples, making her jump.

☆ "What's your name?"

☆ Lovey frowns, trying her damn hardest to focus her eyes on his face, pouting.

☆ John just waits in silence until she cracks a smile and starts uncontrollably giggling, "I don't know…"

☆ Captain John Price, special forces and captain of task force 141, served over 18 years in the British army, fucking cums right then and there.

☆ He moans, his dick jerking and pulsing hot cum all over his Lovey's thighs and she matches his moan as soon as she feels it, throwing her head back and arching her back.

☆ He didn't even need to touch himself and he came so hard, his vision was swimming and he had to press his forehead against his girl's, collecting himself while his thick thighs kept twitching.

☆ Lovey is not able to understand just what happened, she just knows John came and she's happy he did, but tomorrow she will remember and John will be fucked for the rest of his life.

☆ She will have more reasons to keep him wrapped around her finger, and he isn't complaining one bit, it's just different, from anything he's ever experienced, and it's a bit scary, someone having this much power over this beast of a man.

☆ "I love you, I love you, love you so much, Lovey. I love yo-" John says, trying to calm down, and then Lovey raises her head with all of the energy left in her body and kisses him in the mouth.

☆ John immediately shuts up and lowers his head, deepening their kiss even more, devouring her sweet little mouth.

☆ When his thighs stop shaking, he pulls away, making her whine, and he shushes her, keeping a hand wrapped loosely around her neck.

☆ "I'm not leaving you, Lovey."

☆ After collecting himself as much as he can, he lifts her off the bed, both naked as the day they were born. She shivers, snuggling closer to his warm chest, "I know, but you have to pee, love."

☆ He carries her to the toilet, helping her sit down because she's absolutely fucking useless by her own, and he watches her pee, arms crossed and makes sure she doesn't fall sleep and cracks her head open on the wall.

☆ When she's done, he shuts the toilet's seat and helps her sit down, "Stay here, I'll run the bath, hm?"

☆ Lovey hums, leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes while John runs the bath as quickly as he can. He doesn't bother with a bath bomb, oils or salt like his girl usually likes. The only reason they're having a bath instead of a shower, is because she's literally unable to stand up on her feet, and he can't wash and carry her at the same time, it'd be dangerous for both of them.

☆ When it's warm enough, he carries his love to the bath and washes her body as quick and as he can, and washes himself, then he stands up, rising himself with the shower head and rinses her right after.

☆ He dries her with the biggest fluffiest towel they own and helps her slip on a pair of soft underwear.

☆ John makes her sit on the armchair next to the window and quickly changes the sheets, leaving them next to the door, he'll take care of it tomorrow. And when he's all done he slips on his own pair of boxers and gets them both in bed, clean and warm.

☆ He's laying on his back, Lovey half laying on him, one of her legs thrown over his, head and hand on his chest, while he's smoking one of his cigars, content and comfortable, muscles truly relaxing and head empty.

☆ Lovey's breathing went back to normal, she's asleep, half of her weight on his body, reminding John that this isn't a dream. And he's never been happier.

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @loveyhoneydovey @cutiecusp @pinkwigonmytv @mandythemint @itsberrydreemurstuff @tapioca-marzipan @fruitymoonbeams-blog @poohkie90 @chaoticevilbakugo @anubis-reed @thefairybird @skytacvia @marytvirgin @cynicalmnm @maechanexe @t0jis-worm @1800imgay @4ndjelij4 @multitargaryen @lilpothoscuttings @mysticalpandabear

[spideyhexx]

need to publicize the idea here of getting a beard burn rash from mr william h bonney/billy antrim/henry mccarty/billy the kid/love of my life

bc i feel like if it was on your face he’d feel sooooooo bad about it bc like oh his poor baby :( he has to stop kissing you for Hours if this is what happens

but if it was Elsewhere like between your legs on your inner thighs 😏

the new billy content is already driving us crazy and it hasn't even come out yet !

feel like if he's been busier or not able to be with you for longer than usual, the moment you do have time together, it's so hard to stop kissing :( in like the sweetest way possible, he's missed your lips on his and how you play with hair and how he can wrap his arms around you. You both even try to speak between kisses, but cut each other off because it's just so tempting to keep feeling one another.

We talked about it, he would feel so bad if he got a little rash on you from the kissing and his stubble, like slight pout and sad, worried eyes that you're mad about it, but you're not. Maybe a little inconvenient and annoying at first, but it was worth it getting to kiss him like that. Billy would struggle so hard not kissing you, he'd either do his best to avoid the rash and only give your lips small pecks or like you mentioned in our dsc🫶 his kisses go to your cheeks and nose and temple or your hand!!! Just so you can still feel his little kisses and he can satiate that need in him too.

hehe yeah he'd be a lot more teasing or smug about it if he gave your beard burn on your inner thigh. You'd maybe whine over it after the fact and he's like, "maybe you shouldn't of squeezed your legs so tight on my face, baby," with a stupid grin on his face when you scoff and playfully shove at him.

"Easy, easy," Billy says quieter and he gives the irritated area very light kisses, "just means I must've done really good, huh?"

He gets another shove.

[mamaestapa]

stop okay I def saw that post way too quickly but I just refreshed tumblr—

BEARD BURN😭 imagine whining and complaining the next day bc the inside of your thighs hurt and feel raw bc of his beard bc he spent all day between your thighs🤭🫠🫠🫠

he would def kiss it better and be so gentle and cute 🥹but obvs that never lasts bc that man between your thighs always escalates….🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

beard burn from adam fantilli>>>> (im saying that like ive gotten it??😭 LMAOO anyways-)

you'd wake up that morning wincing in pain after a fun night with adam. the ache in your thighs wasn't what had you wincing, it was the bright red rash forming in between your thighs. it was no secret that adam loved going down on you, so him spending half the night between your thighs was nothing out of the ordinary.

you absolutely loved it.

what you didn't love though was the burning, iritated, angry red rash forming on your inner thighs from his beard. you brought a hand down to your thighs, immediately taking it away and wincing once again as your fingertips made contact with the irritated skin.

adam came out of your bathroom, drying his chest off with a towel as he wore a frown on his face from hearing your wincing. his frown only deepened when he saw the look of discomfort on your face.

"what happened?"

"you, you happened adam"

"what do you mean?"

"come see for yourself"

the poor boy was so confused as he slowly walked over to the bed. was he too rough last night? did he hurt you? were you too sore? a million thoughts were running through adam's head. he stopped by your side of the bed, sitting down on the mattress and squinting his eyes slightly as you spread your legs open. adam's eyes widened, letting out a soft gasp as he saw the beard burn on your inner thighs.

adam felt terrible. he was apologizing to you like crazy like he always did when he got too rough...

"oh my god. im so sorry"

"i didn't mean to hurt you baby"

"let me help, maybe this will make it better"

adam carefully lowered his head back down between your thighs, resuming his position from last night. his pretty blue eyes kept eye contact with yours as he slowly brought his lips down on top of the developing red rash. he began to leave gentle kisses all along your inner thigh, the feeling of his lips somehow taking the pain away. he was so gentle with you and felt bad for hurting you like this. however, anytime adam was between (or even near) your thighs, it never ended innocently...

before you knew it, one second his fingers were hooked under the waistband of your panties and the next he was licking a strip up your soaked slit, making you gasp out in pleasure already.

"adam-"

"shhh beautiful, im just trying to make you feel better"

"you'll make it worse"

"ill be gentle. now be quiet and let me taste you"

[be-my-ally]

Do it again. Please.

I HATE COMING UP WITH TITLES.

now this could be, a little bit, related to empty promises - or perhaps an AU off of it but you could also read it completely as a stand alone one shot. Fulfilling a request + prompt fill for ‘do it again. please.’  kinda imagining as if e + p’s month long honeymoon had gone so well they’d extended it rather than returning home 2 days later. 

pairing: fem!reader x Elvis Presley (1967)

warnings : 18+,18+, pwp. As always a lil bit of foreplay, teeny use of the term daddy, p in v sex, e can't stop + accidentally cums in her, couple of spanks here and there, tiny bit of innocence play? I use the term labia minora idk I have no excuse.

wc: miss VERY concise smut! 2.5k. 

The honeymoon period seems never-ending, you’ve been together now for almost three years, although only married for a little while - five weeks to the day tomorrow. You’re still celebrating every day like it’s an anniversary, wrapped in one another and cocooned in a bubble from Hawaii and now in California. Elvis hasn’t had to work for a little while, he’d taken the month off for your honeymoon, and extended that by a few weeks, despite the near-constant calls from the Colonel now. He’s talking about doing something new, something different, but for the moment you’re content to have him with you, even if you can tell he’s starting to itch to get back to the studio. He keeps it mostly to himself though, and you’re doing your best to keep him entertained in any way you can. Despite the months, years, of all the practicing and the training, the novelty of actual sex hasn’t worn off yet for either of you and you can’t deny that you use it to your advantage. 

Nonetheless, just because you’d had sex now didn’t mean Elvis didn’t still like doing other things; your thighs were still slightly sore from where he’d pushed them together to fuck in between last week, cock just about bumping against your folds. He’d gotten you off with his tongue before, ensuring a slick passage - using your own wetness as lubrication. But still, he’d fucked you raw, your inner thighs red and rashed. You knew he’d felt a little guilty about it, watching you run around in your swimsuit, marks clearly visible but it hadn’t stopped him from taking you on the sun-lounger and palming at the marks while he did so, after he’d sent his father and the mafia boys he couldn’t live without away. You should have perhaps been more embarrassed, knowing that they all knew why they’d been sent on a sudden errand, but in actuality you wanted him as much as he did you. Any reservations you might have had had been quickly forgotten as soon as he’d revealed his golden skin in the secluded garden. 

You’d been out to dinner tonight, a fairly casual affair, but still an opportunity to dress up a little - although that dress was now thrown over the back of the bathroom door. You loved to see him in his element, relaxed and happy and it hadn’t taken much, the briefest of touches from your pinky finger on the walk out of the restaurant, a thigh knocking against his in the car for him to get the hint that you wanted to go straight to bed once you returned. He’d stripped you almost immediately as the door shut - barely taking the time to appreciate your special underwear. 

You’re swiftly laid back on the bed, his arms lowering you as he kisses you, and he pulls away to  take a second to look down at all of you. You can’t help but preen a little, pushing your chest up and your hips back as you watch him watch you. He’s slimmer than he was at the start of the year, it shows in the thin corded muscle that surrounds his ribs and in the way his powerful thighs give way to slender shins and legs - you don’t prefer him one way or another, but with his summer tan, sweat glistening across his skin, catching on the hairs on his chest and arms he looks like a goddamn vision. An image you couldn’t have even dreamt up. His hair, that had been so carefully styled in the day, now falling across his forehead - flopping down, you can’t resist reaching up, breaking the lingering silence of both your gazes, twisting a strand in your fingers. 

He presses a kiss to your mouth - going where your hands tug him, before breaking your hold as he pulls back, his fingers sliding into you as he does. You moan at the intrusion but you’re so aroused that they barely catch on your entrance, and a little part of your brain that’s still capable of coherent thought wonders how, barely six months ago you couldn’t even get a finger in and now he’s molded you to him, carved out a space to slot in so perfectly that his fingers can just slip in. He crooks them just so - knowing intimately the exact spots to make you writhe. He takes his time, somehow despite his impatience in literally every other part of his life, he very rarely rushes this - ensuring that you’re not only wanting him by the time he moves on but that you’re desperate. Today is no exception, his other hand comes up to fiddle with a nipple, and you’re already sensitive enough that by the time he rolls one between his fingertips you can’t help but clench on his other hand, a jolt being sent straight down your belly. He continues to slip his fingers in and out of you, spreading them a little before nudging at your entrance with a third. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve done this now, his penchant for dirty talk still surprises you, he’s incapable of silence constantly muttering praise against your skin. He moves his thumb, rubbing up the slick inner folds of your labia minora to your hitherto neglected clitoris. He’s narrating as he does; 

“That’s it baby, Jesus Christ look at how wet you are - all for me, ain’t that right? Just gotta, gotta find that lil’ button of yours, get the right spot.” And he does. A swipe of his guitar roughened thumb and your body lifts from the bed, hips jerking. He laughs at you, a little cruelly, as your breathing hitches, eyes closing about to beg for more before he pulls his fingers out. 

You shift on the bed, still slightly aghast at how filthy he is - holding his hand up and spreading his fingers, a line of your slick still connecting the two. You watch, breathe catching in your throat as he puts them in his own mouth, eyelashes fluttering. Your hips buck of their own accord and from his position between your spread thighs he presses his other hand on your tummy holding you down. You squirm, and he pulls out his now spit-slicked fingers from his mouth, pressing them back down to your burning core. He slips between the folds of your labia, fingers catching the puffy, wet, skin. 

“I’m…I’m ready - El, please - please.” He grins, eyes still focussed where his fingers continue to play with you. You groan, clenching around nothing, desperate for something - for more. 

He steadies you, lining himself up and pressing into you. You feel every inch, every centimetre of him as he pushes into you until he’s pressed in to the hilt - your legs being forced wider to accommodate him. There’s the hint of a burning stretch, but with barely a finger over your clit you can feel yourself relaxing into him, Little Elvis burrowing into the warm little home he’d created for himself. A home that had lain dormant, until Elvis as Pygmalion had moulded it to his exact dimensions - your vagina, in fact your whole body, his own Galatea. 

He thrusts into you, famous hips doing their job as he grips your thighs and knees. You crunch up, unable to stop yourself, at the mounting pleasure - even though you’re not convinced it could be that attractive to have you thrashing about below him. But he breathes a laugh - it turning into a groan as he pulls out and pushes into you again, your body arching back. 

“How’re you -“ He’s breathless, gasping out the words, “how’re you still so goddamn jumpy, so fucking jumpy like a lil baby rabbit honey, like you still ain’t used to it,” he’s practically just rambling and you zone out, letting his words wash over you as you concentrate just on his tone and the movements of his body in yours. “God that’s fucking it, yes, oh lord, how’s your yittle cunt so tight still, fit me so goddamn perfectly.” You try to clutch at his arms, where he’s holding your waist, and he pulls out, briefly, flipping you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and back to him. You don’t have time to protest, even though you don’t like it on your front as much, your breath snatched away by his sudden manhandling. You turn your face, 

“Oh - El, daddy, I don’t -” He just pulls you back to him though, forcing your legs apart again, and burying himself back into your warm heat. 

“I know, I know baby, but just, just for a little while, give me this -” He sounds moderately apologetic, although not very sincere, its hard to hold a conversation with his cock rocking in and out of you with every roll of his hips but you do your best. 

“Ok, bu-but, but tomorr- “ His hand comes down on your ass - you jump, but can’t help the moan that follows as he interrupts your attempts at bargaining. 

“No baby, you’ll give me it because I want it.” He growls, “Because you’re mine.” His hand comes down again, you can feel the sudden surge of wetness at that, his voice so rough it’s like he’s talking straight to your core. “Say it baby, say you’re mine. We’re married now darlin’. You belong - to - me.” You repeat it back to him, stuttering, promising that you’re;

“I’m - oh - all yours, all yours daddy,” You can hear the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, and the feel of his hands gripping into the marks he’d just made, “I’m, oh god, I’m - I belong to you,” 

“Good girl.” You can’t see him, but you just know from his tone that he’s nodded to himself self-satisfactorily. 

Oh,” Your eyes are rolling back in your head as he continues to fuck into you, your nipples catching on the bedspread as your body is dragged back and forth. “Oh fuck, fuck.” He spanks you again, 

“None-a that fucking filthy language from you baby.” You can’t hear the smirk in his voice, too lost in the sensations, babbling an apology; 

“Sorry, sorry, oh-“ He pulls you out again, and you whine at the loss. But soon his hand is back, finger stroking down your labia where you now remain open, puffy lips slipping between his fingers, slick with evidence of your arousal. His fingertips stroke around your tender entrance and you moan, hips grinding in circles, so close to the edge that you can feel it building in your stomach, only he pulls his hand away just at that moment. Elvis flips you onto your back and lowers himself to be just above you, sinking into you again. You’ve been pretty well acquainted with a multitude of different positions now, but you know you both have a soft spot for the simple ones. The ability to watch his face, eyebrows scrunching and mouth falling open, pouty lips pushed forward when his own pleasure mounts. The ability to hold onto his shoulders as he rocks into you, or pull him into a - usually pretty messy - kiss. He’s been dragging it out for so long now that it doesn’t take long for you to feel the edge again, and he reaches down with one hand, slipping it between your sticky sweaty bodies. 

You’ve not managed this many times, only once before - he’s had to get you off with his fingers or tongue before or after, but as he hits just the right angle again, fingers rubbing over your clit in little circles - the internal and external stimulation combining to send you over the edge, body clenching tight. Your hips grind down in circular movements as you clamp down on him, 

“Oh fuck - fuck, fuck baby, that feels so - oh shit, shit.” You feel him suddenly freeze, twitching inside you, the pulse of his sudden spurt of ejaculate deep within you. You pant, interrupting his swearing even as his hips start to move again, 

“Wha- What,” You swallow, trying to talk around a tongue that suddenly feels too big for your mouth, “What was that?” He groans, his hips pressing himself tight against you before he pulls away with a reluctant sigh, rolling over onto his back beside you,

“S’ok, baby, s’ok -  just oh god I just, I couldn’t stop - god you’ve made such a perfect little bitty home for me, Christ darlin’, I couldn’t stop.” He sounds almost a little nervous, and you wriggle, feeling the way your combined wetness was starting to cool. 

“Oh....” You feel your heartbeat between your legs, a steady pulse, you’d liked it. “….do it again. Please?” He collapses, head falling back onto the pillow -

“Darlin’ I can’t just go again,” You frown, 

“Why?" You blink over at him innocently, watching the flush dissipate from his cheekbones, "You make me do it again all the time.” You writhe next him as if to demonstrate your point. His hair flips forward as he shakes his head, rosy cheeks evident. 

“God, baby, men can’t just - I’d hafta, gotta get myself primed again, I can’t just do it again this second.” You pout, feeling it start to slip out of you, the strange combination of its thickness against the thinness of your own orgasm and the tiny bit of sting where it touches your slightly sore entrance. 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind ‘bout that baby honey you gotta," He sounds like he's thinking fast, "gotta push it out at least.” You frown, trying to regain control of your trembling limbs, 

“El- I don’t -“ He interrupts you, 

“Shh darling, listen to me, promise it’ll be fine you just gotta, go on baby…” 

He groans, holding your legs open, leaning over to watch it bubble out of you, dribbling down onto the bedspread. You moan, 

“Oh, El-it’s I can feel it,” 

“That’s it little, quick ‘fore they get swimmin’.” You groan, rolling your hips at the sensation, and he reaches over, long fingers scooping it onto your inner thighs. You feel your tummy twitch with interest and you squirm as he pats at you a couple of times before wiping his hand on the cover. 

“I… I liked that. Maybe… maybe you could do that again sometime.” He chuckles at you, and you both lay there panting for a second, recovering from the exertion and excitement. He gets up first - rolling you off the cover, throwing a washcloth your way - you do a cursory swipe but can’t get up the energy to do much more. Content to lie there as he pulls all the sheets up to make up for the loss of the additional layer of the bedspread. He climbs back into the bed, joining you where your eyelids are starting to droop closed. 

His arms wrap around you, as he rolls into you, pulling you close to growl into your ear, “Jesus baby, where did that come from? You goddamn little minx,” He puts on a high-pitched voice, “What was that Elvis? Do it again!” You were pretending to be asleep, eyes tightly closed but you can’t help but snicker, his fingers finding their way under your rib cage - digging in, tickling you as you give up the pretense of sleep, caught out, squirming around and giggling. 

tags:

@thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @vintageshanny

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

stubble ii

pairing: Kim Namjoon x Female Reader word count: 1617 warnings: smut, daddy dom joon, established relationship, dirty talk, oral sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, explicit language, edging, riding, creampie AO3 A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

After your little session with Namjoon in his studio, you went to your shared apartment all giddy and excited, the smile just wouldn't leave your face.

Although, not everything was sunshine and rainbows. You felt a slight irritation on the inside of your thighs and on your pussy, and although not completely uncomfortable, it was a bit annoying. You texted your sister about it, hoping that she would have some sort of advice, to which she replied not long after.

Once you got home you went into the bedroom to put on more comfortable clothing, deciding on going with your panties and one of your boyfriend's shirts.

Afterward, you went to the bathroom, following your sister's advice and looking around for the vaseline. Once you found it, you lowered your underwear and pulled the shirt up, securing it with your teeth, and applied the moisturizer to the red zones, i.e. the inside of your thighs and your vulva. The soft and sticky petroleum jelly feeling smooth and warm in your hands, helping easing away the rashness you felt.

When you were done you pulled your panties up and went to the kitchen, grabbing something and going to the living room so you could watch tv and munch on snacks as you waited for Namjoon to return.

You waited and waited, by the time you heard the door open it was a little past midnight.

After locking the door, Namjoon walked into the living room, taking in your form lying on the couch, before taking a seat on it, putting your legs on top of his thighs, and leaning back against the couch.

"Good day?"

"Tiring and kinda frustrating," he leaned his head back, his fingers rubbing circles on your knees. "Did have a good distraction around lunch."

You rolled your eyes, a smile forming on your lips. "Ha-ha," you leaned your head against your shoulder, keeping your eyes on your boyfriend. "Did you have dinner?"

"Takeout," he yawned as his tired eyes turned to you.

You pulled your legs away from him and stood up, pulling him up by the hand and taking him to the bedroom. "Let's get you to bed."

You took a seat on the bed as Namjoon removed his clothes, choosing to be on his boxers instead of putting on any pajamas.

Your boyfriend walked towards you, his fingers on your chin, angling your head upwards before crashing your lips together. It was slow and sweet, his stubble prickling your chin.

Biting your bottom lip, and thus making you gasp, he inserted his tongue inside of your mouth, a dance of tongues where his easily dominated ours without much fight from you.

Slowly and carefully Namjoon started to lay you down on the bed, never separating from you.

"I thought you were tired," you said once he separated from your lips and started running them down from your cheek to your neck, leaving a prickly path in its wake.

"I never said that," he mouthed both of your breasts through the shirt, making you let out moans as you arched your back at the feeling of his tongue flicking against your clothed nipples.

However, before you could fully indulge in it, Namjoon removed his lips, continuing his path down your body until it reached your now sopping clothed center.

"Besides," his fingers pulled the string of your panties, letting it go so it could snap against your skin, making you let out a whimper, before removing your underwear, throwing it somewhere behind him, and settling your legs on his shoulders. "You still owe daddy for denying him of your pussy."

Your boyfriend kissed both of your legs, from the ankle to the inner thighs, doing it as slowly as he possibly could, his facial hair rubbing against your skin, making you tingle in anticipation as you bit your bottom lip.

Purposely, he rubbed his hairy chin and lower cheeks against your inner thighs, the feeling of the scratches on your skin combined with his breath fanning over your center having you writhing and whining. "D-Daddy,"

"It's not nice to tease, is it?" he said darkly, pressing kisses to your mound, his stubbly chin near your clit causing you to jolt.

Two of his fingers rubbed the wetness around your slit before inserting themselves into you, causing you to let out a moan at the sudden intrusion as they thrusted at a slow pace.

Namjoon's lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on it as if his life depended on it, his fingers gaining speed, curling them with precision against your sweet spot as you moved in tune with his hand.

"D-Daddy," you moaned out, your walls clenching around his fingers telling him that you were close to your high. However, before you could reach the peak, Namjoon pulled his fingers out of your cunt, licking the digits clean of your wetness, all the while keeping his dark dragon eyes on you. "Wh-"

Before you could complain, your boyfriend moaned quietly against your pussy before licking a fat stripe of your slit, followed by burying his face in between your thighs.

Almost as if he was a man starved, Namjoon savors the taste of your wetness, the tip of his nose brushing against your clit and his stubble prickling the skin of your inner thighs and vulva, making you arch your back as you moaned out for daddy.

Your hands flew to his head, your fingers gripping his hair, pulling him even closer to you, moving your hips to ride his face, all the while Namjoon kept his eyes on you.

"I-I'm c-close," you said panting for breath. "D-Daddy p-please."

But alas, your begging had been for nothing, for he pulled away from you as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

You whined in frustration as your high escaped from you once more. "Why you're doing this?"

Your boyfriend didn't answer, he simply took his underwear off, his massive cock springing up as precum ran down from the tip, and took a seat on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard.

"Come here babygirl," he said with a come hither gesture. "Come sit on daddy's lap."

You crawled towards him, you stared at your boyfriend as you gripped his length and gave it a few pumps, of which he groaned, before lining him at your entrance and slowly sinking down on his length.

"F-fuck," you whimper, his giant cock stretching your walls deliciously in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"S-shit," his hands moved to grip tightly to your waist. "You're so tight princess."

Once he was fully inside of you, you let out a loud moan at the feeling, settling your left hand on the back of his neck and your right one on his back.

Both of you stared at each other for a while, your noses brushing together before you kissed him. It started out soft and sweet but soon it became heated and rough, hungrily he drove his tongue inside your mouth and dominated ours very easily.

You started rolling your hips at a slow pace, enjoying the burn of Namjoon's girth inside of you, your walls clenching around him as he swallowed every moan out of you.

You pulled away from him, throwing your head back with a gasp as you increase the pace, your nails digging into his skin.

"That's it baby," his right hand moved to slap your ass before going under your - his - shirt, fondling your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple. "Ride daddy's cock."

Bouncing up and down on his cock, his length hitting your cervix with each thrust, Namjoon threw his head back, groaning at the feeling of the tight grip your walls had on him.

However, possibly due to your boyfriend not letting you cum, it wasn't long until your legs started growing weaker, and as consequence, your movements started to slow down. "D-Daddy."

"What's wrong baby?" his hand left your chest and settled on your hips, gripping it tightly as he thrusted upwards, causing you to let out a loud moan as your nails dug deeper. "Can't fuck yourself on daddy's cock?"

"Ah f-fuck," he rammed into you with an almost vicious intent, the sounds of his groaning and grunting mixing with your moans and cries, adding perfectly to the melodic sounds of skin slapping against skin and squelching, his pelvis rubbing against your clit with each thrust.

"F-fuck, you like taking my fat cock, don't you baby?" you couldn't form words, only moan for him over and over again. "You like when daddy fills you up?"

"Y-yes," it wasn't long before the familiarity of being close to your high started prickling your skin. "D-Daddy, I-I'm c-close."

His thrusts became more animalistic, going harder and faster, a bruising pace that was making you see stars.

"Cum princess," his pace faltering as Namjoon felt close to his end. "Cum all over daddy's cock."

With a couple more thrusts you reach your high, releasing all over him, the grip of your walls triggering his own finish, as he shot up deep inside, painting them with his warm release.

Your boyfriend gave a couple more slow thrusts in order to draw out both of your highs, as you both worked on catching your breaths.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, his around your waist, pulling each other closer to the other, your head on his shoulder while he leaned his against the headboard.

When you felt Namjoon starting to move your hold on him tighten. "Don't," you said tiredly, barely keeping your eyes open. "We'll shower later."

He chuckled quietly, running his fingers through your hair as you fell asleep.