#is still strong enough that you can feel the resistance in your fingers if you try to pull on it.

[wyvernest]

back massages

pairing: miguel o'hara x college roommate f!reader

warnings: smut, miguel is a bit cocky, unprotected piv, suggestive massages, dry jumping

summary: you give miguel the proverbial back massage, and he returns the favour

"Ugh, my back-" he groans loudly, entering the cramped dorm room and slamming the creaking door shut in frustration.

"Still?" you reply, absent-mindedly, not looking away from your laptop screen and the from project you're working on for tonight's delivery. "Didn't the trellises at the gym help?"

You hear the cot springs coil under his weight as he drops to the bed on his stomach. "Couldn't even use them."

"Hm?" You're still half focused on your research, briefly catching the last words of his replies.

"The gym was full." He groans, shuffling on the mattress.

He is increasingly frustrated with the lack of attention he's receiving from you. You two have been teasing eachother for a while; enough of a while to get him riled up late at night, and to considerably speed up your heart rate whenever he was around.

But even now, you were afraid of being more obvious than necessary. He seemed so confident and easy to talk to, but sometimes you could only wonder if that's just what he was like with everyone else.

He wasn't. He was only this open to you. This relaxed. At least he wasn't aware of how attractive and intimidating his confidence could be to you.

Your delicate fingers kept tapping on the keyboard, unrelenting. Nearly indifferent.

"Didn't you say you'd finish it this morning?" he groans, slightly muffled by the pillow he rested his head against.

"Yeah." You aren't paying attention. Truthfully, beneath the façade, you can barely understand what you're reading, your eyes mechanically darting across the text in front of you. All you can think about is how much you'd want to straddle him and make out right now. Especially with the way he's groaning from the back pain-

"- I overslept." You explain, scarce and somewhat cold. He sighs deeply, and you feel your heart sink into your stomach. Fuck. You don't even know if being roommates is either a blessing or a curse. How are you even supposed to study with-

"Can't you take a break? Por favor." He speaks, his voice down an octave. You can't take it anymore. You peek at him over your shoulder, pondering.

He's shirtless. Of course. He has to be doing it on purpose at this point.

Your attention drifts over the line of his back that bends just slightly for him to hold his beefy arms under his pillow. His muscles ripple as he shifts to get more comfortable into the greyish bedsheets.

"Give me a back rub." He challenges, squinting his eyes and watching your face drop the second his request is processed in your brain.

"Come on." He chuckles lowly. A few ruffled strands of hair on his face make it look like he had just woken up. You can't resist. "Help me feel better."

Raising from the desk chair and moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you place your hands on his shoulder blades, pushing gently, kneading the tensed muscles there. He sighs deeply once again as he feels your small, warm palms on his broad back.

"Ugh." he groans, relaxing under your touch. "Push harder."

You comply, applying more pressure, digging the heels of your hands into his toned muscles.

Your vision washes over his body, comforted by the fact that he can't see you. His back is so much bigger than your whole body. You feel an unfathomably strong need to lay on him, to feel the heat of his skin invade yours. Or better yet, have him lay on you, feel the whole weight of him, cozy and constant.

"Oh-" He moans, raspy and low when you find another tensed up knot, "-feels so good." You're starting to soak your panties from the sounds he's making.

"You're so good at this." He halfly speaks into his pillow, evidently pleased with the special treatment. "Ah, yeah, right there- oh-"

Insisting on the spot, you start putting your upper body weight into the strokes, not having any more force in your arms. He groans again at the sudden change, only this time it comes out very much like a prolonged moan.

Soon enough your own back starts to hurt from the twisted position you're in, legs dangling on one side of the mattress and your torso turned to him. Ceasing your movements, you bring your hands to your lower back, pushing so you could straighten your spine as a faint ache begins to form.

"Get on the bed." He moves his head to gaze up at you over his shoulder. "Straddle my waist. Better for the both of us.", He advices, as if it's nothing.

Your heart rate picks up as uneasiness shoots through your veins as in a lighting strike. You've never been this close to him before. This physical, this intimate. Heart fluttering at the faint hope of reciprocated feelings and the possibility of something more, you silently accept the suggestion.

Climbing on the bed, you hop on his lower back, gradually and slowly laying your bodyweight on him.

"Is this okay?" You're finally settled, and he groans in an infinitely relieved exhale.

"More than okay." One of his hands slips away from under his pillow to tap on your thigh, nearly making you jump. "Continue, it was so good."

Trying to ignore his hand still resting two millimetres away from your leg, you resume the massage, searching for more knots over his broad back.

"That's it, that's it, oh fuck- ugh" His voice sultry and raspier, he flexes his back muscles involuntarily the second you finally reach the spot.

You have to use all that's left of your self control not to accidentally clench your cunt on his lower back. But you can't help it. Wearing a skirt wasn't the best idea today.

The way he's slightly squirming underneath you as you massage his huge shoulders, the way your clothed clit rubs against his skin with the motions have you shivering lightly.

"Yeah- oh, fuck" Your hands are behind his neck, undoing all the aches and rigidity from hours of hunching over his desk, of not taking long coveted breaks.

"I'm done, my arms are starting to hurt." You announce, partially true. You also couldn't stand his noises anymore, all the obscene groans and rough moans, fearing he might start feeling now wet you've actually gotten in the meantime.

In a surge of confidence, you lean forward, more or less intentionally letting your breasts squeeze flush against his back, and you kiss his cheek, soft and tender.

He's surprised and flustered for a flashing second, before letting a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.

"Let me give you one too, cariño."

You shiver at the pet name, hearing him talk this way to you for the first time.

How could you possibly say no?

You lay on the bed where he had been, feeling the clean sheets warm and infused with his musk.

The mattress dips, springs creaking slightly as he adjusts his weight, finally straddling your upper thighs. Your breathing quickens in shock, not having expected him to take the same position as you did. You feel his weight on you, grounding you.

His broad hands start at your shoulders, questionably innocent at first. But just as you start to think that there isn't more to the way he's sat behind your ass, to the way he's touching you, his palms drift away from the usual motions of the massage he is supposed to give you.

Expert, cursory fingers pretend to knead down, to your waist, gripping hard.

You start feeling your pulse in your neck.

One of his thighs flexes on your side as he slightly adjusts, lifting himself a mere inch above you and settling back down. Only this time, you can feel his erection through his sweats, snugly sat between the globes of your ass.

Leaning forward, his grip on your waist remains strong as he slightly grinds his cock on you from behind, his hands mimicking his rhythm as if things aren't already obvious. It's still a massage, it's just not his main goal.

"Mm- Miguel-" you attempt to protest, only it comes out as a moan laced with anticipating pleasure.

A broad, warm hand slowly and unabashedly moves from your waist up to your shoulder, only for a mere second kneading the tensed muscles before drifting down. His fingers ever so slightly slip underneath you as he palms your right breast, not stopping his hips from rubbing his dick against you.

He's slow and careful, as if still hoping you hadn't noticed or aren't bothered to ask him to get off, even through your mewls and his moaned name.

“You're so..” He speaks quietly, for himself, “soft, and fragile-” He leans forward, much like you did, but instead he kisses your neck, down your spine. “I wanna-”

He leaves the voiced desire unfinished as he picks your torso up to his chest, his arms encompassing you, flipping you around.

Now with your body trapped in his embrace, thighs between his and hands squished together, he kisses your flushed cheeks with fervour.

“Tell me to stop.” A low whisper below your ear. Watching your face for any trace of doubt, you shake your head, ‘no’.

‘Don’t stop.’

Placing you back down on the mattress, he bunches your skirt up to your middle, moving your panties to the side as his other hand takes his rock hard cock out of his sweats.

You feel the precum coated head flush against your pussy lips, pushing in with a gravel groan.

As soon as he gathers the courage to advance, his length grazes your clit, your hips automatically jerking away, akin to having touched hot coal.

A shiver runs down your spine that makes your cunt flutter, his awaiting cock twitching in enthusiasm. He feels you spasm and grow wetter.

“Ugh, that- you feel so good-”

He’s only taking his time before he can bottom out inside you. With a look over your shoulder, you don’t trust your voice to respond. You nod and clench your pussy around him, aiming to viciously drive him mad.

He suddenly pushes forward, hands forcing you onto him, the contact with his own blazing flesh making your brain melt and eyes roll back into your head. You can almost feel his bulbous tip in your guts, messing with your nerves and sinews.

Quickly adapting to the new conditions your body has given him, he corrects his grip on your waist, hoisting you until your feet lose contact with the bed. Back now arched, ass well-adjusted to meet his height, upper body rested on the plush pillows. He drags out halfway before sinking back in.

His hips slowly rotate against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you

You can’t take it anymore. Your limbs feel like radio-static, heart sending its pulse into your pussy, breathing laboured and synced with his. The broad head flicks a spot deep inside you that curves your spine this time, feet no longer able to find balance away from the stimulation.

A strong forearm curls around your middle with snake-like speed. You settle obediently back into his hold.

Your hips wiggle closer into his, apologetically stuffing yourself full of him. He smirks at the gesture, satisfied.

“Fuck, Miguel-”, you moan for him, giving him exactly what he wanted before he started pounding into you.

A combination of his pelvis slamming into yours and his hands violently dragging you back onto his dick has high-pitched whimpers crawling out of your throat. Your head rings with the sound of the bed squeaking back and forth along with the harsh returns of his cock in between your come-soaked folds.

His firm hands hold you from flinching, fingers digging into your waist while his thumbs press down into your lower back.

It's when he changes his angle that you scream out, all consciousness dissolving into raw, carnal bliss. Ruptured cries and fractions of his name bloom out of your nearly-dry throat.

He feels his heavy cock pulsate as your ass jolts with each slap, your pussy choking his dick in the process.

With a suffocating groan, he releases inside you, his ecstasy drawn-out into fractured grunts blended with heavy breaths.

You sense his warm come spilling inside you. Your own climax sends your head spinning, your loud pulse dropping in your ears.

The thunder subsides through your veins like a candle being put out by the cold.

a/n: sorry for the delay i have a ton of stuff to do for college 💀

[springtyme]

𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 ♡

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖! 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈

Since you and Simon started dating he has, with your help, developed a bit of a dad bod. You can’t help but long for his new figure to fully live up to it's name, and it turns out Simon wants the same...

141 masterlist

You sink deeper into the couch, encased in the warmth of Simon’s embrace. His sturdy arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer while the gentle hum of the TV fills the quiet space. His breath is steady, a comforting rhythm that lulls you into a sense of safety as you melt into his body as you lay against him. 

You are not particularly interested in the program he is watching, you just enjoy the comforting feeling of him holding you, his giant body enveloping you, making you feel safe and secure. You smile softly, recalling how Simon’s once-chiselled granite abs have now been padded with a soft, little layer of fat. 

Initially, he was all defined muscles and sharp angles, everything about him radiating confidence and vigour. But as your connection deepened, so did his affection for late-night takeout, cosy evenings spent together,  and especially, for your cooking. 

There is something incredibly appealing about the way his body has changed, making him feel more approachable and warm—exuding a charm that somehow makes him all the more enticing to you.

With a playful smile, you let your fingers trace the lines of his form, feeling the gentle curve of his belly beneath your touch. The way he fills out his clothes now gives him an air of relaxed confidence—it almost makes you feel giddy. He is still incredibly fit, but you have added this little layer of love to him that speaks of comfort and shared moments. 

Each meal you cook for him, each dessert you insist he try, painted a soft layer over the etched definition of his body. It is as if love has woven its way through his muscles, binding him closer to you with every shared bite and laugh.

Simon shifts slightly, adjusting his hold on you, and you can feel the warmth radiate from him. He catches you staring and turns his gaze down toward you, a playful glint in his eyes. “What are you smirking about?” he asks, a teasing tone laced in his voice. You can’t help but giggle, your fingers now absentmindedly tracing patterns against his arm. 

“Just admiring the view,” you reply with a coy smile.    

Simon looks down at you, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re the one who keeps feeding me,” he quips back, a smirk breaking across his lips. 

“And you love it,” you counter, your tone playful yet confident. “Besides, I can’t help it if I want you to know what real cooking tastes like.”

He chuckles, that deep, rumbling sound that reverberates through your chest and sends warmth shooting through you. “I suppose you’re right about that. But admit it, you’ve turned me into a softy,” he murmurs, his tone light but sincere.

“Only because you’ve made it impossible to resist you,” you respond, glancing up at him with a smirk. The air between you feels charged with warmth. “The whole ‘dad bod’ thing you got going on, is very, very sexy.” Your voice taking on a sultry rasp as you emphasise the words, feeling a flush coursing through your body. 

Simon’s eyes darken slightly, stirring something deep within you. “Is that so?” he replies, feigning nonchalance as he raises an eyebrow. “A ‘dad bod’, huh?” 

You nod, leaning in closer, your breath mingling with the warmth of his skin. “Mhm,” you whisper. The way he emphasised the term made your heart race. Maybe it’s just because you’re currently ovulating, but you have been fantasising a lot lately and this moment only intensifies those thoughts. 

The warmth of him, the way he holds you, it’s all so comforting yet exhilarating. You can’t help but picture him with a little chubby baby nestled in his strong, bulky arms, how perfect he would look in that role. It makes you go absolutely feral. But you have not yet been brave enough to discuss this with him yet.    

“Wouldn’t I have to be a dad to have a dad body?” His teasing tone lingers in the air, and you can’t help but feel a surge of boldness at his question. 

The thought of Simon as a father—strong, gentle, and completely devoted—flashes through your mind like a vivid dream. The image of him cradling a little one, the way he would be so protective and devoted to do everything different from how he grew up, how he would make sure your home would be so full of love, sends a thrill racing down your spine.

“Maybe,” you reply, suddenly feeling almost shy. 

Simon shifts again, a newfound intensity in his gaze. “Maybe?” he echoes. There’s a flicker of something so intense in his gaze it gives you goosebumps. 

“Well,” you begin, your voice falling a touch lower as you muster the courage to speak around the flutter in your chest. “I think I would like you to be… if you want to be.” 

You feel the warmth of your confession linger in the air, both exhilarating and terrifying. The thought of bringing a child into the world together—a small reflection of your love, sharing every joyous moment with Simon—makes your heartbeat quicken.

 You can feel how his entire body stiffens against you. Simon’s expression shifts, caught between surprise and something deeper, a flicker of vulnerability as he processes your words. He opens his mouth to respond, then pauses, searching your eyes as if gauging the weight of this conversation. You take a steadying breath, your heart racing, waiting for his reaction. 

But then he surges forward, his lips crashing against yours, igniting a spark that sends a wave of warmth through every nerve in your body. The kiss is both passionate and tender, a collision of emotions that leaves you breathless. You instinctively melt into him, your lips moving in perfect harmony as you feel the world around you fading away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate bubble.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling in the charged air. His eyes search yours, reflecting a mix of surprise, desire, and a growing sense of affection that warms you from the inside out.

“You really mean that?” he asks, his voice a low murmur, as if afraid to break the moment. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart race even faster.

You nod slowly, feeling the weight of your feelings settling in your chest. “I do,” you admit, your voice steady despite the thrill coursing through you. “I can’t help but picture it… becoming a family.”

He watches you intently, a flicker of something deep and genuine lighting up his features. “I’ve thought about it too,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper, shimmering with honesty. “I didn’t know if you’d ever want that. Or if I’d be good enough at it...”

Your heart swells at his admission. “Of course you will, Si.” 

“You really think so?” His gaze flickers away for just a moment, vulnerability woven into his expression.

“I know so,” you reply firmly, reaching up to cup his cheek, urging him to look at you.

“You’re going to be amazing,” he says, the sincerity in his eyes igniting a warmth in your chest that feels almost overwhelming. “I can’t imagine anyone better to do this with than you. And you're going to look so beautiful. ” he places a hand on your abdomen like if you already have a little one in there, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the cool air around you. “Can’t wait to see it happen,” he murmurs. 

You feel your core tightening, the idea of him wanting to see you swell with your child makes it pulse between your legs, igniting a fierce desire deep within you, so raw and primal. 

“Then let’s make it happen,” you whisper, feeling a rush of confidence surge through you. Your words hang heavy in the air between you and you can see the fire igniting in Simon’s eyes.

He grips you slightly tighter, as if holding you will somehow solidify the promise of this shared future. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he says, his words laced with a mix of awe and deep, feral desire.

“Then show me,” you challenge Simon’s eyes darken even more, a potent mix of affection and desire swirling within them. He studies you for a moment, as if trying to decipher the depths of your challenge, and then a slow, seductive smile spreads across his lips.

In a flash, he rises with you against him, your legs wrapping around his waist as he turns, pressing you back against the couch. The heat of his body envelops you, his warmth mixing with a potent urgency that fills the air, a dance of desire igniting between you.

The warmth spreads through you, igniting every nerve ending as he hovers above you, his weight a deliciously reassuring presence. You can feel your heart racing, the thrill of what’s to come making every second stretch into eternity.

His gaze is locked onto yours, deep and intense, as if he's searching for something within your soul. “Are you sure about this?” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire, a hint of hesitation lingering in his tone.

You nod, breathless, your body responding instinctively to his every move. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, Simon,” you whisper, your fingers curling around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.

With a growl that reverberates in his chest, he leans down, capturing your lips again in a searing kiss that sends sparks shooting through you. His hands explore your sides, drawing gentle lines along your curves, igniting every nerve as he takes his time, savouring every moment. Each stroke of his fingers feels electric, each press of his body against yours reaffirming the connection that has been building between you.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes against your mouth, his hands moving to cradle your face as he pulls back slightly to gaze deep into your eyes, as if he can see every unspoken thought and dream reflected there. The sincerity in his voice settles warmly in your heart, making you feel cherished and adored in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

“Simon…” the sound of your voice is thick with emotion. His name carries promise, a blend of want and affection that binds you tighter, pulling you both closer to the precipice of a shared future.

He lowers his lips to your neck, trailing soft kisses along your skin, igniting a trail of heat in their wake. The sensation makes you gasp, every muscle in your body tightening. His kisses turn more fervent, his hands wandering, exploring the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips as you arch into him, craving contact.

“Tell me what you want,” he rasps, his breath hot against your skin, sending delicious shivers coursing through you. The primal need in his voice fuels the fire between you, stripping away any lingering doubts.

“I want you,” you confess, instinctively lifting your body in response to his presence, wanting him to know just how much you crave him, body and soul. “I want all of this… with you.” Your voice is sultry, dripping with desire, and the rawness of your confession sends a thrill down your spine.

It’s a fervent dance as you shred each other of your clothing. Simon’s hands are rough yet tender as they explore the contours of your body, mapping every curve with a reverence that sends waves of pleasure rippling through you. He watches you with a fierce intensity that makes your heart race—his gaze trained on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the universe right now.

With a predator’s grace, Simon shifts his weight and captures your lips in a fiery kiss, his hands roaming over your thighs as he revels in the softness of your skin. The kiss deepens, igniting a wild need that surges through you, compelling you to wrap your legs more tightly around his waist, pulling him even closer as you lose yourselves in each other.

 His hands grip your waist, guiding you, as he presses against you, every inch of his body fitting perfectly against yours. His cock, teasing the entrance of your dripping core, sends a shockwave of desire coursing through you. You feel the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, a spiralling intensity begging to be unleashed.

“Simon,” you breathe out, the need in your voice raw and palpable, each syllable laced with impatience.

He pulls back slightly, his gaze piercing into yours, searching for any hint of hesitation. But all he finds reflected back at him is an insatiable yearning. “Are you sure?” he asks again, his voice a low growl that sends a thrill through you.

“You have no idea,” you whisper, your body aching for his touch, the chemistry between you two electric. “I want you—now.”

With a low chuckle that rumbles in his chest, he leans in closer, capturing your lips with a fervour that steals your breath. He kisses you with heat, fervently devouring your mouth as if trying to consume all of your essence. His hands grip your thighs, squeezing gently as he positions himself against you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock.

A shiver runs through you at the sensation, a blend of anticipation and need coiling tighter within you. You arch your back instinctively, craving the fullness of him, the connection that promises everything you’ve dared to dream of.

“Please,” you murmur, the intensity in your voice barely a whisper, yet it hangs in the air like a charged promise.

Simon’s eyes darken, a primal hunger flickering in their depths as he leans closer, brushing his lips against yours with a teasing slowness that makes your heart race. “You have no idea how much you turn me on,” he rasps, his breath warm and throaty against your skin.

“Then show me,” you repeat, your voice dripping with unabashed desire, a challenge that both excites and terrifies you.

With a low growl, he accepts your challenge, guiding himself into you slowly, allowing you to feel the exquisite stretch as he fills you. The sheer size of him ignites a fire within you, every inch sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body as well as a dull yet delicious sting. You gasp, arching your back to meet him, instinctively wanting more, needing every part of him to complete you.

 Each inch pushes deliciously against you, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating throughout your body. A mix of pleasure and relief spilling from your lips as he finally sinks fully inside, filling you completely.

The way Simon holds you feels primal—a perfect intermingling of strength and love. Your breath hitches as you adjust to his size. The sensation is overwhelming, a rush of pleasure that sends stars dancing behind your closed eyelids.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust. “So tight, so perfect. I’ll never get used to how perfect you feel.” 

He holds still for a short moment, letting you adjust to his presence, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. The connection between you two feels electric, an unbreakable bond woven from both desire and emotion. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low and husky, a hint of concern mingling with the raw desire that fills the air.

“Yes, just… need you to move,” you breathe, the heat coiling within you so tightly it threatens to snap at any moment.

With a nod of understanding and a feral glint in his eyes, he begins to move, each thrust controlled yet fervent, each push connecting you further. He knows your body, knows how to tease and draw out every moan, every gasp. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, the waves of pleasure rolling over you like a tide as he fills you completely.

“God, you feel amazing,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your face, as he gains a steady rhythm—hard yet gentle, igniting every nerve in your body. You can feel the overwhelming desire pulsating between you, the intoxication of your shared intimacy washing over you like a tidal wave.

With every thrust, the world outside fades; all that matters is the sound of his breathing, the feeling of his body against yours, and the connection deepening with every moment. Your bodies move together, entwined in a dance of passion that feels almost primal, a testament to the bond you’ve built and the love you share.

“More,” you plead, your voice laced with urgency as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. The tension coiling in your stomach is like a rubber band pulled taut, ready to snap. “I need more, Simon. Please.”

“Say it again,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips, anchoring you as he drives deeper, his body moving with an unyielding force that sends you spiralling further into desire.

“More,” you whisper, your eyes locking onto his, a fire igniting in your core as his thrusts come harder, more urgent, every movement precise and electric. You feel yourself losing control, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. “Please, need you to give me a baby, Si,” you cry out, your toes curling

“F-uuck, baby,” he groans, his voice low and gravelly as he leans closer, his lips brushing against your neck, planting gentle kisses that heighten the sensations coursing through you. “I’m going to make you mine,” he growls, his deep voice laced with insatiable desire. “You want that, don’t you? Want to feel me buried deep within, filling you up until there’s no turning back? You want me to make you a mother, huh? To let me become a dad?” His words are raw, thick with longing.

“Y-yes,” you gasp, unable to resist the overwhelming heat in his tone. “Please, Simon, just please...”

He responds with a low, primal sound that ignites your senses. His movements grow more insistent and powerful as you clutch him tightly, your nails digging into his skin while he drives into you with a force that steals your breath away. Each thrust sends electric sensations coursing through your body, making you hunger for more. The room is alive with your shared moans and the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh, the air saturated with the intoxicating mix of sweat and passion.

You can feel the tension building within you, a delicious pressure ready to burst. “I’m so close, Simon. Please, don’t stop,” you whimper, your voice trembling with longing. He’s hitting that perfect spot inside you, pushing you ever closer to the brink of bliss.

Simon becomes a whirlwind of energy, his grunts transforming into primal growls as he responds to your urging. Each thrust sends his intensity soaring, his body connecting with yours in a rhythm that feels utterly consuming. Your world narrows to this moment, this feeling, every sense heightened and electrified. The pressure within you tightens, coiling like a spring ready to snap, and with each thrust, Simon drives you deeper into euphoria.

“Doing so good, baby” he praises, his breath hot against your ear. “Taking my cock so fucking perfectly.” His voice drops to a husky whisper, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his heartbeat pounding in time with yours, a primal rhythm binding you together.

“I can’t hold on much longer,” you gasp, the heat pooling at the base of your stomach, making you dizzy with need. Simon’s hands grip your hips possessively as he pulls you closer, anchoring you to him.

“Good,” he growls, the very sound embodying all the desire swirling around you. “Let it happen. I want to see you shatter for me. I want you to come on my cock before I give you my baby.”

With one final thrust, the coil within you snaps, and pleasure explodes through you like fireworks. Every nerve ending ignites as waves of ecstasy wash over you, pulling Simon with you into the abyss of bliss. You cry out, the sound raw and unfiltered, matching the intensity of the moment. Your cunt squeezes tight around him, milking his hot release as he groans deeply, as he keeps thrusting rope after rope of warm cum deep into your womb with a fervour and desperation that matches your own. The world fades away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in this intimate moment of heat and desire.

As the waves of pleasure subside, you both collapse, breathless and spent as he pulls you tight against his chest, his cock still inside you. The room is still thick with the remnants of your connection, the air heavy with warmth and satisfaction. You can feel Simon’s rapid heartbeat against you and how it’s slowly slowing to a more steady rhythm as he holds you close, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your naked skin.

After a few moments of silence, you finally find your voice, a playful smile creeping onto your lips. “So, you really want to become a daddy, huh?”

He lets out a strained sound, something between a chuckle and a groan and you feel how his, by now half softened, cock twitches slightly inside of you from your words. Simon’s eyes flash with a possessive glint as he tuck. “Mhm, and I want to make you a mom. You’re gonna look so fucking beautiful carrying our child.” His voice is low and thick with emotion, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You can practically feel the heat radiating off him as his words sink in. The deep longing in his voice, mixed with the raw intimacy of the moment, tightens your chest with a mix of excitement and vulnerability. “Really?” you ask, your tone teasing yet laced with genuine curiosity. 

Simon’s gaze sharpens, his grip on you firm and reassuring as he nods. “Without a doubt. And I’m going to take so good care of you. His tone is sincere, laced with a vulnerability that draws you closer still.

The gravity of his words wraps around you like a warm blanket, filling you with a sense of safety—a promise of a future you hadn’t dared to imagine before this moment.

Thank you for reading! ♡ if you enjoyed this please consider reblogging

[rodolfoparras]

Four in the morning ( when you creep back into bed )

Pairing: Wolverine x Top Male Reader

Cw: 18+, fingering, anal sex, sub!wolverine, dom!male reader, fwb,

Thinking about Wolverine who’s always so impatient to wind down after a long day, calls you over to his place with someone else’s blood and guts still caked onto him.

He hasn’t even finished up the call when he’s stripping the clothes off of him, before pushing strong thighs up to his chest, spit slicked fingers working on loosening the tight ring of muscles, all while counting down how long it takes for you to get there, silently wondering if he should have someone else finish up the job instead.

By the time you arrive, he’s already driving three fingers up inside his tight wet hole, the muscles in his wrist flexing with how hard he’s going, angry red cock uselessly slapping against his stomach as he fucks himself down onto his fingers , all while frustrated noises roll off of his tongue because of course this isn’t enough to make him finish

The frustration only grows when he sees you standing motionless at the door, and he’s quick to tell you to hurry over and fuck him already, even huffing and puffing as he proceeds to turn over and present his ass for you because fuck does he have to do everything around here?

“come on come on come on” he rushes out, hand parting his cheeks to show you his hungry cunt, momentarily wondering if he should just tie you up and use you however he wants.

But just as the thought strikes his head he feels your cock brushing up against the furls of muscles, and a sigh of relief escaping his lips as you finally slide inside him.

Despite the amount of prep there’s a slight burn that comes with the stretch, muscles reflexively resistant as you sink further into him, but he happily welcomes it; toes curling, clawed nails threatening to poke hole in the sheets, as the pleasurable flames slowly but surely engulf him “mfp - ah fuck that’s it yes yes yes, took you ah took you long enough,”

He steadily takes you inch by inch till you’re buried to the hilt; ass flushed with your hips, pressed so close he can practically feel your heartbeat against his skin, even feels himself going lax in as if you’ve finally quenched the fire that’s burning inside of him.

“Couldn’t exactly teleport here now could I?”

Just as he’s about to retort with something sarcastic, you give an experimental roll of your hips cock head brushing up against the wall of nerves that knocks the wind out of him , desperately gasping for air when he demands “Fuck!, oh -oh need more come on, please!!”

“Easy there , going ah- to hurt yourself,” you splurt out , fingers digging into his hips as if to prevent yourself from ramming into the man.

Logan however couldn’t care less, uses his hips to push himself back down onto your length, body shuddering and groans escaping his lips as he starts fucking himself on your dick. “I’ll - ah - I’ll heal,”

That’s when he feels your fingers yank at his hair, pulling him back til his head is resting on your shoulder before driving up into him at a relentless pace, all while keeping a sturdy hand on his hip, turning and twisting his body as you please- as if he weighed nothing .

“This what you wanted huh?” You breathe into his ear while continuously slamming into his hungry cunt.

For a moment he’s unable to muster up a response, lost in the way you’re slamming your hips into him so hard it almost hurts, stretching his body in ways that makes him feel like he’s being split in half on your cock.

But the constant jabs to his prostate eventually coaxes the words right out of him “Yes! Yes! Yes! don’t stop fuck!” He gasps out feels himself already inching closer to his orgasm, and maybe he’d be embarrassed about it if he hadn’t been worked up for such a long time. All he can do now is keep a vice like grip on your cock fearing you’d be cruel enough to pull out when he’s so close to cumming

Fortunately for him you don’t do any of that, instead you continue ramming straight into him til the tension in his balls grow unbearable tight and he’s withering in your arms.

“Cum-cumming-“ is all he manages to blurt out, body tensing for a moment before spurting ropes of cum all over the mattress. “Mph fuck!” He cries out, , world blurring, ears ringing as he continues rides out his high in your arms.

Eventually he stops shaking in your embrace and upon catching his breath he’s hit with the smell of a coppery scent, one heavy eyelid prying open just to be met with the sight of his claws digging into your now bloody hands. A wave of panic rushes through him, and he’s quick to retract his claws before he goes to say something. But just as he’s about to speak you interrupt him “it’s okay”

He doesn’t say a word as he brings your hands to his lips, tongue slipping out and lapping up the bloody mess on your skin.

“Jesus Christ Logan,” you wince out, head dropping into the nook of his neck as he cleans you up, swears he can feel your cock twitching inside as he continues on with his task , his lips all bloody and smiling ear to ear when he says the words “Another round?”

[goldenstring6123]

HIIIYAAAYAYA I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND I LOOK FORWARD TO EVERY SINGLE PIECE YOU RELEASE!!! YOU HAVE ME CHECKING YOUR PAGE 24/7 IM OBSESSEDDD 🫦🫦 ANYWHO ignore my fawning but how do you think the lads boys would react to a suuuuper clingy gf??? idk but if i were mc i would NOT be leaving their side and would literally be glued onto their body like mc is a strong soldier for resisting (especially rafayel my HUSBAND 😩) literally wanna just curl up in their lap and carve myself into their ribcage so they can never escape from me tehe. ALSOOO U DON’T GOTTA RESPOND IF UR BUSY OR UNCOMFY!!!! JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITING 🫶🫶

Lnds: Sticky little lover

Warning: vaguely suggestive, mentions of hickeys, fem!reader, clingy!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, there might be spelling mistakes, I haven't proofread yet.

Author's note: Awieee thank u sm pookie! I understand the feeling of wanting to latch onto the LIs~

Zayne:

Zayne wakes up with you on his chest, your leg over his crotch, and your arm across his stomach. To him, you were like a weighted stuffed toy and a weighted blanket, all at the same time. He wasn't complaining; maybe it was an excuse to stay in bed for another half an hour.

The bathroom is big enough for the two of you, with two wash basins, a separate shower, and a bathtub. There are three bathrooms in the house, but you always choose the one he uses. He's complained once, but you said you didn't like the interior design of the others. Side by side, you brush your teeth and comb your hair while he shaves and flosses. If you wake up earlier than usual, maybe he'll let you moisturize and exfoliate his face. It's no surprise Zayne leaves the bathroom door open for you. It's just normal for both of you to cross paths in the large bathroom.

When he leaves for work, you never miss a day to kiss his nose and give him a quick peck. You embrace him with two arms, but he hugs you back with one, the other hand holding his bag. You don't mind.

Your message gallery is filled with pictures of your mundane life: a snapshot of a book you're reading, the new coffee you tried, the little teacup Maltese that reminded you of him. Even though he's busy, he always finds time to react, and if he doesn't, he brings up the picture when you pick him up at the end of the day. He never forgets.

Calm days are spent in each other's presence. You always cling to him in one way or another. While he's reading a book, your feet are on his lap, and his fingers unknowingly knead your ankles. While watching a movie, your shoulders touch, and your hands are intertwined. When you react to the film, his hand, still holding yours, follows your movements.

Dates are always fun. It doesn't matter where you go or what you do as long as Zayne's in your company. Cafe dates are cute, but Zayne always calls you out for staring at him with a weird look in your eyes—you were admiring him. Whenever you walk, you cling to him, wrapping yourself around his forearm while playfully weighing him down. He stumbles for a second but smiles.

You love leaving hickeys on him, even bite marks if he allows, but the rule is never above the collar of his shirt. You oblige 97% of the time. The other 3%, you sneak in a light hickey that passes off as a mosquito bite, just peeking through the collar of his dress shirt. Sometimes, there's one behind his ear, barely visible. He never knows, but the doctors and patients at the hospital do.

When you're apart, you always call him and go about your day. At night, you video call and try to stay awake, only to snooze off. Zayne chuckles at your attempts to wash the tiredness away, but sometimes, he falls asleep with you. In the morning, both of your phones end up overheating and out of battery.

Zayne loves your company, to others it may seem trouble some but with you, it was adorable. It's through your clingyness that he experiences feelings he never once did before, and those little things always brighten his day. You actions with him makes him feel more loved and he knows he has a hard time expressing them but with you around, it had become more and more easier.

Rafayel:

They say opposites attract, but you and Rafayel are the universal exception.

Rafayel doesn't like it when you're late. Even for a home-date, he fusses about being left alone too long and feeling abandoned. You laugh at his whining over text and enter his door. When he sees you, he jumps off the couch and pouts, "Finally, it took you long enough."

You're like magnets to each other. Wherever one goes, the other follows. If you're cooking ramen in the kitchen, Rafayel sneaks behind you, hugging your back and sniffing your hair. If he's watering flowers in the greenhouse, you sit nearby and watch a ladybug on a leaf. If he's painting, you're reading on a nearby couch. Rafayel's residence is too big for one person but just enough for two.

Rafayel whines when you do something without him, especially if it's something he wants to do. You once took a flower arrangement class without him, and he sulked, "Wow, you didn't even think to tell me? I wanted to do that with you." Even watching movies is hard because you need to pause and wait for him whenever he leaves the room. One time, you finished a mystery series without him, and he ate the tiramisu you were saving for dessert in revenge.

Matching clothes is a thing. He avoids tacky prints but opts for complementary outfits. Because of this, Rafayel buys clothes with you in mind, often choosing items with a feminine counterpart. His shoe closet and yours are practically the same, and you don't complain because Rafayel has good fashion taste.

You love cute matching items. You once bought a two-piece mug set with a heart design, and he took the other one without you knowing. He also took a keychain from your collection, matching the one you have in your wallet.

"Are you tired of me now?" he asks when you keep your distance, avoiding a hug. It's the middle of summer, and the AC is broken. You reek of sweat, and the last thing you want is to be touched. You sigh and pat his back, "After I take a bath, I'll give you all the hugs you want."

He asks about your plans every morning, almost as a ritual. You've gotten used to replying while getting ready. If both schedules permit, he joins you for grocery runs, laundry, or whatever mundane tasks you have. You make good use of him, letting him carry the bags even if you could do it yourself.

When Rafayel is at an exhibit, you bombard him with texts: jokes, articles, or random thoughts. He replies quickly, hiding from the audience, bored out of his mind. In return, he sends you pictures of his artwork, which you threaten to sell online as digital files. He blocks you for a good five minutes.

You're each other's wallpaper. Surprisingly, Rafayel asked to do it. You spent hours finding the perfect pose and recreating trending ones. Rafayel insisted on multiple retakes.

You were rafayel's missing piece. To him, you were the only thing that he has ever wanted in his life. He loved you dearly and a part of him was terrified that you don't reciprocate the same level of love as he does to you; but lo and behold, fate has given him a blessing after all those years of loneliness. His heart swoons at the very sight of your actions. You were clingy, that was factually true but the same goes for him. Nothing makes him more fulfilled than seeing you both think and love in the same wavelength.

Sylus:

His base has become your home. On days off, you often find yourself in one of three rooms: his bedroom, where you lie on his bed, tapping away on your phone or laptop; his kitchen, where the chef cooks whatever you want in exchange for listening to his stories from his little village; or the lobby, where Luke and Kieran update you on the most boring things in the building. Sylus doesn't mind at all; it's less work for Mephisto, and he can keep an eye on you.

Sylus's sleep schedule is the same as that of those in Linkon City. His days begin in the evenings, often leaving you lying in the big bed alone. Sylus is nearby or at his desk if he's not out on the streets. You like hugging his pillow because it smells like his 3-in-1 shampoo. If he's out on late-night trips, you selfishly steal his shirt from the closet, wear it on the pillow, and hug that to sleep, forcing yourself to be satisfied with what you got.

His lap is your chair. It doesn't matter where he's sitting; you always find yourself on him. Sylus sometimes complains about his thighs going numb, but when you leave, he yanks you back, positioning you between his legs, with your butt on the chair instead of his thigh. He goes back to his work as if nothing happened, occasionally sparing you a kiss on the forehead or rubbing his face against yours. If not, you shower his chest and neck with light pecks before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

His biceps are nice to the touch. On dates to the city, while waiting in line, you squeeze his muscles for entertainment, even through his thick leather jacket. He flexes for a minute before relaxing, amused at how easily you entertain yourself.

The boyfriend shirt phenomenon is common. You don't leave the base wearing his clothes, but you certainly walk around the area in them. Whether a turtleneck, a black blouse, or just a plain shirt, you're always wearing his clothes, even in his company.

You're an eccentric one, thats for sure. Sylus never truly got ahold of how you managed to change from being so distant to practically being glued to him. It was like he partnered up with a whole new different person. He wasn't complaining at all if anything, he found it admirable and a part of him was quietly relieved that time did all the adjusting between you and him. Despite being a bit too fussy at times, he'd be more than willing to compromise if that's what makes you happy.

Xavier:

You always steal his hoodies. They're big, soft, and smell like him, so you have two or three at home. Xavier scratches his head when he notices bare hangers in his closet. When you visit, he finally sees what's missing. No matter how many hoodies and jackets he buys for you, you always get your hands on his, almost becoming a problem. Now, he rotates his jackets, giving them to you on schedule.

Xavier's hair is too soft to be human. When he's on your lap, you massage his scalp and fidget with the ends of his silver hair. If you have hair elastics and a cute clip nearby, he ends up with his hair tied up or braided. He needs your help to take it off because it's too painful for him to do alone. Oops?

You prefer sitting beside him rather than across from him at a table. He didn't understand at first because he wanted to face you when eating. But when he's beside you, he slowly gets it. You like touching him one way or another. You enjoy your elbows touching or your thighs grazing each other. It's also convenient to lean slightly and rest your head on his shoulder.

Xavier loves bathing with you. The bathtub in his apartment is big enough for both. He likes the smell of your bath bombs and is sometimes fascinated by the toys or mini jewelry inside. Your back always presses against him, and he willingly holds you. On more stressful days, you light candles and open some cheap wine to enjoy in rose-covered water.

He's riddled with bite marks, even when not having sex. He's dozing off when you suddenly find his arm or leg appetizing. He jolts awake and tries to shake your grip, but it's too tight. When you've had enough, he stares at your work of art and wipes his saliva-coated limb. You grin, watching him wipe your fluids. Because of the frequency, he rarely lets his consciousness drift away when his bare arms and legs are around you.

When bathing alone, you use his shampoo instead of yours. It's surprising he doesn't use all-in-one shampoo and body wash; he uses baby shampoo. When confronted, he shrugs, saying it does the job, and recalls you like playing with his hair. His perfume and powder are also for babies.

In the eyes of Xavier, you were adorable even if your actions were questionable. You were cute, and he never once thought that your actions were a burden or suffocating. The things you do, the way you speak they were all precious in his eyes and Xavier understands that this was you way of showing your love for him. Because of that, he tolerates you every time you bite him.

Your gallery is full of his pictures. Candid photos you secretly take daily. Your favorite is when his cheeks are full of food, resembling a hamster. You take pictures when he's asleep, using you as a pillow. Sometimes, you're both looking at the camera, making random faces.

Author footnotes: I'm sorry if these were pretty general. I'm not the clingy type so I don't know how these type of people act but I wrote it with the things I observed from films and tiktok lol

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[wonusite]

Cat and Mouse

❝ Wonwoo doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant in avoiding him after the amazing night you two spent together, but he’s not going to let you get away from him so easily. ❞

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x female reader

GENRE: bad boy au, smut

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

WARNINGS: bad boy!wonwoo, allusions of illicit activities, descriptions of minor injuries, wonwoo is down HORRENDOUS, reader is in denial about her feelings, our bad boi is soft for one (1) person, mutual pining, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, mating press, aftercare

ㅤ→ continuation of this timestamp

A/N: here’s a little something to celebrate one year with this blog. very grateful to all my followers and mutuals who’ve made this past year amazing! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Wonwoo glares at his phone, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in annoyance.

It’s been a week. An entire fucking week without hearing from you. He knew he should’ve ignored Jihoon’s calls and stayed in bed with you that night, but when he sent a message saying the entire crew needed to be there, he couldn’t ignore it. Now, he really wishes he would have.

The night he spent with you was the most incredible of his life, and now he might never relive it because he left in a haste, only leaving you with a brief kiss and a promise to come back.

“You still torn up over that sweet lil’ thing from that flower shop?” Seungcheol's voice has never sounded more irritating than it does now.

“That’s Shua’s girl, dumbass.”

Being on the receiving end of that mean tone and angry glare doesn’t faze Seungcheol in the slightest. In fact, it only causes his infamous smirk to get wider. To see the stoic Jeon Wonwoo acting up over a girl is not only a rarity, but it’s also really fucking funny. That’s why he can’t resist pushing Wonwoo’s buttons further.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Seungcheol cackles. “Guess you better hurry up and help us finish this shit. Her shift ends soon.”

Wonwoo can feel his irritation near that boiling point he could usually avoid. Of course Seungcheol knows about your schedule. That asshole has the annoying habit of knowing everything about anyone who is even the tiniest bit associated with the crew. Sure, it’s for precautionary reasons, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. Nonetheless, Wonwoo focuses on the task at hand so he can catch you before you leave work.

Jeon Wonwoo is the bane of your existence.

From the moment he first came around with that stupidly attractive smirk of his, your life was never the same. And now that you fucked him, it never will be again.

Giving into your carnal desires isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but getting mixed up with the likes of Jeon Wonwoo definitely is. Despite not knowing all of the grimy details, you know he’s bad news. You can see all the red flags clearly—the people he hangs around, all the fights he gets in, and the tattoos littering his body. And yet, none of those warning signs mattered now or when Wonwoo was ravishing you in a way that still made your toes curl just by thinking about it.

Maybe the worst part of it all is that you can’t get the resident bad boy out of your head, or the way he held you after you two had sex. It’s like you can still feel how he nuzzled into your neck, strong arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let you go. Part of you hopes that he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t had some urgent business to take care of. It’s a dangerous thought, but even so you can’t help but crave that uncharacteristically sweet side of him that he presumably only showed you.

A displeased sigh comes out of you as you gather your things to go home. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop thinking about Wonwoo, but to think that you’re actually pining over him even though he literally disappeared after your night together is—

“Y/N left already.”

It’s Mingyu’s voice you hear at first, and it makes you stop in your tracks. You wonder who could be asking for you until you hear someone answer him. It feels like your heart is going to jump out of your chest when you hear a familiar deep voice that has your stupid pussy clenching in anticipation.

“Alright. Thanks.”

You peek out from the back when you hear the door chime. It’s annoying that your chest tightens when you see a set of wide shoulders draped in a leather jacket walking toward the large motorcycle parked outside. The way your mind goes blank yet is also clogged with nothing but thought of Wonwoo is infuriating. You don’t realize you’re pouting at the exit until Mingyu jumps back in shock at seeing your sulking figure.

“Y/N what– I thought you left!” He says, vaguely gesturing behind him. “You just missed your boyfriend! I think he wanted to take you home—”

“Boyfriend?” You interrupt him, not entirely angry or disgusted that your coworker had referred to Wonwoo as such.

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah? The scary dude with the leather jacket that comes in here all the time just to see you. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

It’s almost mortifying that your sweet but oblivious coworker can tell that there was something going on between you and the resident bad boy. And yet, there’s also a part of you that likes the fact that Wonwoo is so obvious about his feelings. You don’t know what to make of these conflicting emotions that you can’t seem to shake, and seeing Wonwoo (even just the back of him) didn’t help you find the clarity you so desperately need.

“Well, even if he’s not, he definitely wants to fuck you.” Mingyu says with a wink as he brushes past you to check on the pastries he had put in the oven ten minutes ago.

You wonder how he would react if you told him that Wonwoo already has.

Wonwoo thinks you’re the cutest person ever. And the part of you he finds the most cute? The fact that you actually think he’s going to let you avoid him forever. You’re good at it, he’ll give you that (even if he can see right through your every method).

It’s funny that you actually change your off days and regular working hours just to avoid seeing him and throw him off, which it does—at first. He knows you haven’t quit because Josh mentioned seeing you at the bakery when he went to buy the love of his life a cake for her birthday. This is confirmed when he goes to see for himself the next day.

Maybe you don’t realize Wonwoo can see you run to the back through the large glass windows when you hear his motorcycle, but either way he thinks it’s funny. Actually, it’s hilarious because soon enough you were going to give into him like before.

Meanwhile, you feel like a mouse being preyed on by a sly cat—one that’s toying with you before he finally catches you. Avoiding Wonwoo had been easy at first, but now you’re starting to wonder if he had let it seem easy.

“Babydoll.”

You almost drop a tray of croissants when you hear a familiar deep voice calling for you. The way you whip around with a gaping mouth must be hilarious because Wonwoo just smirks at you in that infuriating way that drives you crazy. Your hands tighten around the tray as you snap your mouth closed, trying to contemplate on how to navigate the situation.

With a bit of a mental pep talk, you finally manage to put up that happy to help attitude you usually had with every other customer. The smile you give him feels exaggerated and fake, but it’s the only way you can mask all the emotions you’re feeling.

“What can I get for you?”

That devilish smirk widens as Wonwoo pretends to skim all the delicious pastries in the case before he sets his smoldering eyes back on you. “This all looks good,” he muses quietly, but you can hear him perfectly since it’s only you two. “But I think you’re the only thing that can satisfy my hunger.”

It kills you that his words make you heat up from the inside out. You ignore him and start to put the croissants into the case. The clench of your jaw is tight and bordering on painful, but it’s the only way you can keep your emotions from spilling over for him to see.

Unfortunately, your lack of response doesn’t really faze him. One thing you’ve come to learn about Wonwoo is that he’s never uncomfortable in the silence. You wish you could say the same. You’re nearly squirming by the time you’re done placing the croissants in their designated space because he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you once.

Finally, you look up to meet Wonwoo’s gaze. It’s so intense that you almost want to look away. However, there’s a part of you that loves being under the heat of his stare since you can clearly see the desire he has for you.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“You’ve been gone.” You counter, vaguely aware that you sound like a sulking girlfriend.

Wonwoo realizes this too because he gently coos at you. “Missed me, babydoll?”

Yes. “You wish.”

It’s obvious Wonwoo doesn’t believe you. That stupid smirk of his only seems to get bigger with every passing moment, and you don’t know if you want to kiss it or smack it off his face.

“I missed you.” He tells you honestly, loving how you’re visibly growing flustered with his words.

Resisting him would be a lot easier if he wasn’t so tempting to you and if the feelings he always evoked from you weren’t so strong. Before you can say anything to betray your easily crumbling facade, Mingyu comes out from the back with a tray of small cakes. Wonwoo gives you a once over before stepping away from the case.

“I’ll be back after your shift. Wait for me.”

You don’t wait for him—technically. It’s not waiting since Wonwoo is already outside of the bakery when your shift ends. He’s clad in his leather jacket, dark jeans, and signature combat boots. It’s not fair that he can lean against his bike so casually while looking as good as ever.

Ignoring him would’ve been all too easy, but you can’t when you notice the bruises and cuts on his pretty face. A familiar irritation bubbles in your chest, but annoyingly enough, it’s overpowered by the concern you feel. You react before you can fully think your actions through.

“What the hell!”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen the tiniest bit when you stomp over to him with angry tears in your eyes. You can’t even enjoy his cute shocked face because of the overwhelming concern and anger you feel. All you can do is hit his brawny chest in frustration.

“You—You asshole!” Your voice cracks with raw emotion as you continue to weakly hit his chest. “You said– you promised that you weren’t going to fight anymore—!”

Wonwoo lets you hit him. His chest aches, but not because of your soft blows. The last thing he meant to do was make you cry, and it’s something he wishes to never see again. His large hands come up to cup your face, fingers delicately wiping your tears. “I know I should’ve kept my promise, and I’m sorry. Just please don’t cry anymore.”

You let out a quiet whimper at his tenderness. His eyes are full of so much remorse and concern that it makes any remaining willpower you have left disappear. It feels right to bury yourself in his chest and let yourself be held by him. He caresses your back, and you can’t hate that it actually makes you feel better.

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull back and smack Wonwoo’s beefy chest again. “Asshole.”

“Your asshole.” His haze is tender as he cradles your tearstained cheek in his hand.

You scowl at him, but it’s quickly wiped off your face when he places a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth. A sudden desire consumes you when you see Wonwoo’s affectionate gaze. This time you let yourself be driven by your desire and press your lips against his.

It’s easy for him to melt into the kiss. Wonwoo sighs into your mouth as one of his hands comes up to cup your face. His rings feel cool against your warm skin, and you let out a quiet moan when his other hand slips into the back pocket of your jeans and squeezes your ass while pulling you closer to him.

The kiss is slow at first until your hands smooth over Wonwoo’s chest and fist his shirt to pull him closer. You part your lips to allow his tongue to slip into your mouth. It feels like you got struck by a bolt of electricity the longer his lips are on yours. His desire and hunger are evident in his needy movement, and you absolutely love it.

When you two finally pull away, you’re left breathless. Wonwoo’s thumb gently caresses your cheek as his heart pounds harshly in his chest. “Stay the night with me, babydoll.”

“M’kay.” You breathe out, mind still swimming.

The smile he gives you is so pretty that it makes something inside you burn with ardent desire. You feel like you’re floating on air when Wonwoo hands you a spare helmet that happens to be your favorite color. He looks bashful as he waits for you to accept it, and you wish you could take a picture of his pretty blush.

In spite of all the reasons you have not to take the helmet from him, you still do. And you don’t regret it.

You’ve never allowed yourself to regret the things that you’ve done because life is too short for regrets. But you definitely regret avoiding Wonwoo as long as you have, especially with the way he’s trailing his lips along your legs. Every wet kiss he leaves behind has your heart hammering and your cunt clenching in want.

Finally, Wonwoo gets to your inner thighs. His large hands spread you open with ease, eyes dark when he sees your wet pussy.

“Fuck.” His gaze fixed between your legs as if he's in a trance. “You’re already so wet.”

Your toes curl when his breath ghosts over your cunt. It sends delicious shivers throughout your body, and you have to stop yourself from bucking your hips into his face. But as you’re starting to learn, it seems like Wonwoo knows what you want before you even ask for it.

“You want my mouth, babydoll?”

Wonwoo nearly blows his load when you nod cutely, a needy mewl escaping your lips. “Please.”

He hooks your legs over his wide shoulders, thumbs spreading your folds open for his viewing pleasure. Wonwoo resists his ravenous desire for you long enough to toy with your pretty pussy before he actually tastes it—a luxury he hadn’t gotten to do last time. His rough hands are soon occupied with you, one hand pinching and flicking your sensitive clit while the other gently rubs your slippery folds.

“Fuck, baby.” You whine, biting down on your lower lip. “Feels so good.”

Your cunt is dripping with so much of your arousal that Wonwoo’s fingers are drenched as he slowly rubs circles against your aching bud. It’s throbbing and pulsing in need as his pace grows the tiniest bit quicker. You can’t even try to contain your moans as you stare down at your boyfriend.

Wonwoo has a huge smirk on his pink lips. You’re making such a mess on his fingers, and he just loves it. “You look so fucking cute when your squirm like this, babydoll.”

A needy whimper tumbles past your lips when he presses a gentle kiss to your throbbing clit. It pulses under the attention like it wants his mouth again. Wonwoo’s pupils are blown wide as he licks the remnants of your arousal off his lips. The addicting taste makes his control snap, and in the next second he smashes his face into your cunt like a starved man.

Your hips start move on their own as Wonwoo groans deeply into your drooling pussy. His mouth latches onto your clit, massaging the nub with his tongue. The movements are skilled and toe-curling, and you already feel like you’re fucked out.

“Wonwoo!” You cry out in absolute pleasure when he slips two fingers inside you.

His long fingers work your cunt open, curling up to rub the sensitive spot inside you that made you arch your back in ecstasy. Your mouth is dropped open in a silent min the longer Wonwoo fucks you with his tongue. He captures your juices with his tongue only to slobber them all over you again. Your hands grab ahold of his hair as he keeps moaning into your wet pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine with every one of his movements.

All it takes his his nose bumping against your clit as he licks around his pumping digits for you to come all over his face. Wonwoo groans into your creamy cunt, licking up every drop of your release.

“So fucking messy.” He grunts as his hand spreads your folds and exposes your heat to the cool air. His fingers trail down your cunt, tenderly rubbing along your sensitive lips. “Fuck, just look at that cream."

You can’t contain your needy moan when Wonwoo brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. He’s so fucking hot that you just want him to fuck you until you can’t think. Before you can get him to do exactly that, a heavy weight settles on your soppy cunt. His cock is hot and wet as it slides between your folds.

“You feel so good, angel.” Wonwoo groans as he thrusts forward, coating the underside of his dick with your arousal. “So fucking wet, just for me.”

The mouthwatering sight of your folds splitting open as he slides his cock between them makes him feel like he’s drunk. Maybe he is. Drunk on your pussy, that is. He only gets to enjoy the feeling for a second before you eagerly buck your hips against his.

“Let me ride you.”

It’s a miracle that Wonwoo doesn’t come all over your stomach at the words you moaned so desperately. He’s quick to get into position, leaning against his headboard as you hover above him. You look so eager as you straddle his lap, the love bites he littered all over your thighs giving him a sense of pride as he brushes his thumbs over them.

Wonwoo’s free hand reaches for your ass. He roughly kneads the skin before slapping it. You moan out in pleasure. Everything is almost too much for you to handle. The sight of him bellow you waiting patiently for you to fuck him like the first time is making your core throb with insatiable desire. His cock rests on his stomach, leaking with precum and waiting for you to sit on it.

The hottest part of it all is how Wonwoo’s looking at you with unadulterated desire and affection—like you’re a living goddess on top of him. Your hands are splayed over his muscular chest, and he just loves the feeling of them smoothing over his hot skin.

His hands move on their own, caressing your hips and mapping out every inch of your body with his rough hands. Wonwoo kisses any part of you he can reach, lips trailing from your neck down to your collarbones. His large hands slip back to your ass to deliver a sharp spank which makes you fall forward. Wonwoo skillfully captures one of your tits in his mouth, tongue immediately gliding over your hardened nipple.

“Nonu!” You cry out as your arms hook over his shoulders to keep him close, softly moaning as he switches between your tits, warm tongue swirling around each erect nub.

The cute little nickname makes his cock twitch. Fuck. You were going to drive him completely insane.

He gently nips at your sensitive bud before pulling away to look up at you. “You look so fucking pretty on top of me, babydoll.” He murmurs, forcing himself to stay still as you shift against his leaking tip.

His sweet praise is enough to make your pussy flutter. You mewl as he teasingly circles his cock against your pussy. The insistent nudges from his leaking head are making your head swim with pleasure. You’re so soaked at this point that he can feel your arousal start to stick to his skin.

Finally, you can’t resist any longer and slowly sink down on his cock. Your tight walls stretch wide, welcoming the bulbous head with just a bit of resistance. It’s been almost two weeks, and you’d already forgotten it felt to have such big and thick dick inside you. His cock isn’t even halfway inside yet, and you can nearly feel him in your stomach.

You sit back and slowly circle your hips, throwing your head back with a moan when his twitching tip nudges your walls repeatedly. Wonwoo feels like he’s gone and died to heaven with the filthy show you’re giving him of your soppy cunt. He curses quietly at the sight of your tight cunt clinging to his fat tip, nearly blowing his load at the erotic sight.

“Show me what you can do, pretty girl.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. With a wanton moan and your hands braced behind you, you slide all the way down. You whimper at the stretch, loving the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open. Mewls flutter from your lips, and it feels like the oxygen is slowly being forced out of your lungs.

Once he’s fully inside you, Wonwoo is sure that he’s never going to feel as good as he does now. His head is thrown back and his eyes roll to the back of his head. The feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him is absolute heaven. You share in his feeling as you moan loudly, completely full and stretched out as he grips your ass to steady you on his dick.

Wonwoo can’t stop looking at the fucked out look on your face while you’re busy staring down at where your pussy and his cock meet. You don’t notice how his pupils are blown out with lust at the sight of you impaled on his cock. His heart fluttering in his chest because fuck, you’re like a literal goddess on top of him.

“Shit, babydoll. You gotta move.” He sounds out of breath, almost needy with his plea.

Wonwoo looks so fucked out and pretty that your pussy tightens around him at the hot sight. That's all it takes for you to give him what he wants. You lift your hips before slamming your ass back down. His cock reaches so deep inside you that you throw you head back with a loud cry. It makes you ravenous, and you eagerly repeat your movements until your practically bouncing on his cock.

You lean towards him and wrap your arms around his neck, your pace faltering a bit when your lips meet his neck. As you litter his skin with wet kisses and gentle bites, you feel his cock throb and twitch inside you. It makes you think that you might actually get him to come first this time.

At least, until Wonwoo commits the tender act of pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder, removing a hand from your ass to gently thumb at your clit.

“Fuck, Nonu.” You whimper at the stimulation. “You’re so deep.”

“Missed having you on my cock, babydoll. You look so fucking pretty being split open like this.” His fingers trace your stretched hole before they slap your clit.

You moan wantonly when Wonwoo suddenly thrusts up, going impossibly deeper. That’s when you know he's about to ruin you in the way you’ve been craving. You shove your face into his neck, sucking and biting his skin so he can move you on his cock in the way he wants. Apparently, this isn’t enough for him, though.

Wonwoo grips your face, pressing his fingers into your cheeks. “Need to see your pretty face while I fuck you stupid.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s gripping your ass and grinding you on his cock. His fingertips press into your soft flesh as he lifts you and brings you down his length. You start bouncing to meeting his pumps. Broken mewls contrast with Wonwoo’s groans and mix in the the sound of lewd squelching and skin slapping. His abs tighten every time you come back down, thighs flexing beneath your ass.

Your swollen clit rubs against his pelvis with every thrust, and the feeling is quickly driving you insane. The knot in your stomach is coming undone fast, much faster than you want, but you feel too good to stop. Wonwoo isn’t doing much better. His mind is only full of you and the way your hot cunt is gripping his cock. The carnal look in his eye is locked to where you’re connected. He’s mesmerized with strings of arousal connecting his skin to your dripping folds.

“You look so fucking pretty when you’re bouncing on my cock—just like last time. Gonna let me pump your pretty pussy full again, babydoll?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry out mindlessly, a delicious ache blooming in your core. “Whatever you want!”

You can’t believe Wonwoo has the audacity to blush like you two aren’t literally fucking like animals. It makes you gush around him, orgasm so close that you can feel it in every inch of your body.

“God, baby. Keep fucking yourself stupid on my dick.” He growls as he fucks up into you harder, needing to see you come undone on his cock.

The leaking tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot over and over again until your eyes gloss over like you’re on the brink of tears. Wonwoo will never get enough of that fucked out face of yours, and it drives that insatiable desire in him to fuck you impossibly harder.

It takes only a few more deep thrusts for you to come on his cock with a loud moan. Your body shudders and shakes against him in absolute pleasure. Wonwoo’s movements don't stop. He fucks you through your orgasm and straight into overstimulation. But you can’t really care because it feels so fucking good. All you can do is cry out his name until he’s emptying his balls inside you.

“Y/N!” He groans into your ear as he pumps you full of his hot cum, thick ropes filling you to the brim until it’s leaking out and coating his heavy sack.

You’re gently grinding into each other as your mouths meet for a messy kiss. Wonwoo’s still-hard cock keeps twitching inside you, and you can’t help but groan into his mouth at the feeling.

“More.” You plead against his lips. “Want you to keep stuffing me full of your cum.”

“Fuck, angel.” Wonwoo pants out. “You’ll be the death of me.”

But if this was death, he’d gladly embrace it every time.

Wonwoo moves down the bed until his back meets the messy sheets. With his hands secured on your waist and the back of your neck, he pulls you down to his chest and forces you to take every inch of his throbbing cock. At this angle, he feels even thicker. Your mind goes blank as his fat dick spears into your tight hole relentlessly.

Wet noises fill the room, dancing in the air with your wanton cries. A white ring forms at the base of his cock, smearing down to his loaded sack. Wonwoo moans along with you, large hands sliding down your body to grip fistfuls of your ass. You let out a broken gasp when he grinds up and pulls you down, stuffing you to the brim only to do it again and again.

You’re panting and whimpering as his cock sinks in deep, plugging your dripping cunt. Tingles of ecstasy course through your quivering body with ever snap of his hips. You aren’t even moving anymore, it’s all Wonwoo. He’s fucking you on his cock like you're his personal fucktoy. The more you think about it like that, the more turned on you’re getting.

Your hot cunt tightens around his veiny cock. The drag of his veiny length stretching you out makes more of your juices coat his dick and spill down to his heavy balls. Wonwoo shudders when he feels how tight you keep getting. He can feel his own high quickly approaching.

“You gonna come for me again, babydoll? Soak my cock with your cream and make a mess all over me?” Wonwoo changes the angle of his hips as he speaks his lewd words. The tip of his cock slams into the soft spot inside you that makes you scream in pleasure. He keeps pounding into you from below without stopping, and you love every second of it.

“Fucking love your cock.” You babble mindlessly, any and every thought that’s not about the fat cock splitting you open being fucked out of you.

“Sweet little cunt is all mine now.” Wonwoo growls possessively. “Gonna be mine forever, right, baby?”

It’s all too much. His filthy yet sweet words combined with his fierce thrusts make you fall over that edge and into your orgasm, this one more powerful than the last. Your body erupts in flames as you squirt all over Wonwoo’s aching cock. He keeps you locked on his dick, balls slapping against your ass as he continues to pound into your gushing cunt.

“So fucking good.” Wonwoo groans gutturally before his hot cum floods your ruined cunt, painting your stretched out walls and claiming you in every sense of the word.

So much of his cum spills out and trickles down his pulsing cock, and you whimper when Wonwoo fucks it deeper into your pussy. You’re both sweaty and sticky, yet there’s still a burning ache in your core that seems like it can only be soothes by Wonwoo and his big cock.

“Want it again.” You moan into his ear, clenching down on his twitching dick. “Please.”

This is where you learn that the resident bad boy can never tell you no.

You barely process him flipping you over and manhandling you into the position he wants. Wonwoo presses your legs against your chest and start to pound into you with rough thrusts. He’s slow but brutish, slamming against your cervix every time he pushes in. Your cream soaks his thick cock and your inner thighs. It slowly drips down to your ass where his heavy balls slap against the tender skin.

“Fuck, babydoll. I’ll never get enough of this tight little pussy.” He sounds so gone, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust.

You cry out each time, the pleasure blooming into that delicious feeling in your stomach. Wonwoo’s words have you clenching around his dick, and he lets out a deep groan. He keeps moaning out praises about how good you are for him, but it’s hard to focus on his words when his thick cock is pummeling into you relentlessly.

You continuously gush around Wonwoo’s cock on the brink of yet another orgasm as you leave a stain around the base. Your pussy is stretched beyond belief, and it feels so fucking good that’s it’s making you delirious.

“I’m gonna have to stuff this pretty pussy full every day.” Wonwoo moans, loving how your cunt keeps spasming around his throbbing cock. He’s fantasised about this for so long, and now that he’s had you he’s completely addicted to you.

“Fuh-Fuck!” You wail, soaking his cock even more at his promise, leaving it dripping.

Wonwoo’s thrusts grow more powerful and ravenous. The pretty sounds you’re letting out every time he drives in and out of you is driving him insane. It’s not long for the harsh snapping of his hips to finally send you into your climax. This one is more somehow more intense than your previous one. Wonwoo groans loudly, watching as you squirt all over his cock.

Each time Wonwoo strokes your g-spot, another gush of liquid spurts from your core. “You’re so fucking hot, angel. Making a mess all over my cock.”

“Come inside me.” You beg with a loud moan, mind already so far gone to think about anything else but being fucked full of his hot cum.

Your lewd plea only drives his desire for you. Wonwoo feels his orgasm approaching with every rough thrust. His balls are aching to be emptied again, and he doesn’t hesitate to chase that euphoric feeling. Your pussy is practically begging him to fill you up with his seed, and he does exactly that. With one final shove, he bottoms out inside you and stills, cock twitching and throbbing in your hot cunt.

A huge load of cum pours into you, coating your walls and taking up the minimal space his cock hasn’t covered. Wonwoo slowly fucks it into you until you’re both whimpering from the overstimulation.

When he pulls out, his cum and your cream slowly leak out of your messy cunt. The fucked out pants you’re letting out are quickly stifled by Wonwoo's lips. You moan into his mouth as he slowly lets go of your legs and hooks them around his hips.

Pulling away, you barely register as he starts to tenderly kiss all over your body. You’re completely sated and too gone to acknowledge your surroundings even as Wonwoo gets up and brings back a warm towel. He gently cleans you up, whispering sweet praises that make you feel a different type of euphoria.

“Hold me, Nonu.” You finally manage to say when you realize he’s done cleaning the both of you up.

His smile is so pretty and precious as he goes to lay with you. The way he cradles you against his chest is comforting, and you know that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x ghost x price :)

2.7k words

tw: teacher-student scenario again, just for the sake of the porn. also, DP. first time writing it, so be NICE!

big thanks to @waves-against-a-cliff for reading what i won't

You sat on Professor Riley's lap after class, his rigid length smearing precum in between your soft, bare thighs as he fucked them. His large hands curled around your waist, long fingers creating tiny dents where he dug them into the supple flesh.

His breath warmed the delicate skin of your throat, as pants escaped his lips. You deliberately pressed your legs closer together— hoping that it provided enough amount of friction for him to finish.

You need this extra credit, after all.

Ghost inhaled sharply when you did, the grip he had on you almost painful.

"Fuckin' hell." His rich groan resonated in your chest. The gusset of your knickers was damp with arousal, both yours and his. The languid drag of his cock against your clothed pussy was so tantalizing, your core ached to be filled.

You were about to urge him to forget intercrural sex— to undress and fuck you already when a sharp knock on the door cuts through the fog in your head; a sudden rush of clarity pouring over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.

Shit.

Your back straightens at the interruption and quickly move to get off of Ghost's lap when he wraps an arm around your middle, keeping you firmly in place. A strangled noise claws up your throat. He cannot be serious.

"Come in," he calls out.

"No. No no no, you can't— you'll be fired, I'll be expelled, Professor Riley, please—" your voice warbles in your panic. His hold on you is as strong as steel, leaving no room for escape or resistance. You're helpless as the doors creep open and Professor Price steps in.

Of course, it's the most pretentious asshole teacher in existence.

"Hey, Riley, have you gotten the ema—" he trails off. His striking blue eyes flick down to your legs. Or more precisely, to what's still in between them fully erect.

"I was unaware you were busy with a...student." The sound of his footsteps draws closer. "Is this what you call detention?" Price leans on the desk with his hip, eyes never straying from you.

Ghost stifles a laugh. "Ask a better question, Price."

Heat licks up your jaw and cheeks when he resumes his thrusting as if there isn't another whole grown man in the room— one who can potentially ruin both his career and your collegiate one.

"Like what, Riley? Want me to ask if I can get a taste?" You look at Price and notice that his eyes are dark, limpid blue rings around the edges— knuckles stained white with how tightly he's clenching his hands. "You've never been a sharing type."

"Well, this sweet toy of mine loves being shared, doesn't she?" Swiftly, Ghost lifts you, his manhood now nestled against the curve of your back. His clever fingers move to your covered center, and draw featherlight circles on your hood, right above your clit. A whimper falls from your lips at the feeling.

"Answer him, pet. Tell Price ya don't mind gettin' this pretty pussy licked by him." He presses down on your bundle of nerves firmly with the pad of his thumb when you take a second too long to answer.

"I, I don't," you hiss when he rubs, "d-don't mind." Ghost gives your cunt a gentle tap.

"Don't mind what?" You swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

"I don't mind getting my pussy licked by Professor Price." His teeth tenderly graze the shell of your ear, followed by a small nip.

"Good girl," he mutters into your hair. Then directs his attention to Price, who's biting his bottom lip— the look he's giving you making your head swim. "She answered, so get down here or get out," he commands.

Ghost clasps his hands under your thighs and lifts until your feet rest flat above his knees. He hooks a finger into the sodden fabric of your knickers and drags it to the side, baring your glistening slit to the cold air of the room, erupting your heated skin in goosebumps. "On your knees, old man, unless they're too creaky to handle this."

Price's lip curls with unveiled amusement. "I was simply admirin' the view, Riley. Don't get your pants in a twist." He lowers himself to the floor smoothly until he's kneeled within inches of your exposed sex.

His prickly beard tickles the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and his mouth is warm and wet as his tongue slides between your folds.

Another former industry giant devouring your passion with the hunger of a starved man at a lavish feast. Each stroke of his tongue spreads the warmth in your stomach, a pressure slowly rising, building—

"Sit her on you," Price mouths against your cunt.

When you find yourself wedged between two burly men, there's not much you can do except surrender to their wishes. That means being lowered onto Ghost— instinctively closing your eyes as you savor the stretch and biting the inside of your gummy cheek at the mildly uncomfortable burn.

Gravity does most of the work as you sink into him in one gentle stroke.

And without reprieve, Price dives right back in. The dull ache from where Ghost's tip presses into the plug of your womb, to the pleasure coming from the attention given to your swollen bundle of nerves.

An intoxicating mix of bliss with pain furling at the edges.

It's so good, teetering on the edge of too much, but when Price sucks lightly on your clit, your body seizes. You scrabble to grab his dark brown hair, blunt nails biting into his scalp as your shatter around Ghost's cock and Price's mouth.

Ecstasy pulses through you like the steady beat of your heart, white-hot euphoria coursing through your veins. There's a ringing in your ears, shrill and deafening, and your breathing comes in ragged pants as you come down from your high.

Your face glistens with sweat as droplets trickle down your temples, hair plastered to your forehead.

Jesus.

Price lapped at the arousal that dripped down Ghost's length, softly groaning at the taste before giving you a wolfish grin behind his coarse facial hair that was damp with your desire.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," he murmurs.

You relax the tight hold you have on his hair as he tenderly kisses where you and Ghost are joined.

Ghost nudges your ear with his nose, and his deep voice rolls over you like a wave. "Greedy little cunt jus' about cut off my circulation, pet." He shifts under you, sliding even deeper than before, a hiss escaping from behind your teeth.

"I think Price is feelin' a little left out, don't you?" With a shaky nod and a quiet mhm, you feel his lips press against the side of your neck.

"Think you can take us both?" It feels more like a warning of what's to come than a genuine question. The idea of being stuffed by both of them sends a thrill up your back.

Price sits back on his haunches, palming himself from outside his trousers. "Think so, sweetheart?" He rises to his feet and promptly sweeps away everything from the wooden desk, scattering them across the floor. Taking a seat on the desk, he positions himself comfortably, his legs slightly bent and his feet firmly touching the ground. How unfair.

With a hand, Price beckons you to him.

Your legs tremble almost comically after having them in such an unnatural position for so long; tingling when you finally stretch them out in front of you. Ghost's hands at your waist help you stand, wincing when he pulls out of you unceremoniously.

Under his breath, he apologizes and gently nudges you towards Price by pressing his hand on your shoulder blades. "Go on, it's rude to keep him waiting." You're then guided forward as warm hands wrap around your biceps, leading you to stand in front of Price.

You drag your eyes from his down to his groin, where his erection is confined behind the strained zipper. Suddenly, Ghost's toned arms surround you, his hands eagerly reaching for the button on the front. "Lemme help ya out, love."

In seconds, Price's heavy manhood bobs as it springs out, ruddy tip hitting just below his navel. Simon firmly grabs your hand and swiftly turns it, exposing your palm. Without warning, he shamelessly spits on it before wrapping it around Price.

A guttural noise escapes him when you squeeze the thick of it tightly. He bucks his hips in a deliberate rhythm— taking hold of your wrist, ensuring your hand remains in position as he continues to thrust upwards until his cock is slick with his precum.

You can't help but rub your thighs together in hopes of getting some of the friction you're desperate for.

"Not gonna come already, are ya Price? We haven't even gotten started." Ghost ignores his scoff, rapping his knuckles on the desk. "Knickers off and climb up, pet."

You hastily tear off your smallclothes, shucking them to the side with your foot before hopping up on the desk, one leg at a time. Price steadies you with his hands on your waist. As you straddle him, your muscles ignite with a satisfying burn as they adjust the expanse of his thighs.

His voice is soft, gentle even, when he whispers into your ear. "Good?" You gasp sharply when Ghost spanks your arsecheeks before nodding at Price. "Jus' like we practiced, yeah?"

Yeah, just like you practiced. The plug you had to wear throughout the week whenever they both weren't tearing you in half should be more than enough prep. You hope.

Ghost taps the side of your thigh. "Cockwarm him while I get this perfect arse ready."

The stretch is intense as you lower yourself on Price— his cock thicker than Ghost's just not as long— it pushes the air out of your lungs. He bites his lip til it reddens, his eyes fixed onto where he disappears inside of you, fingers digging into the meat of your waist.

Your eyes flutter closed when he finally bottoms out, his girth splitting your swollen walls apart mercilessly.

God, he feels so good.

And then the sting of one thick, lubed finger pressing into your tight ring of muscle smothers some of that pleasure.

"Hey, hey. Look at me." Price tips your chin up with his hand, your eyes meeting his. "Good. Breathe for me, sweetheart." He leans forward to place open-mouthed prickly kisses on your neck. "Breathe, love. You've already taken us before. You did beautifully then, and you'll do beautifully now."

He distracts you from the discomfort by suckling on your skin, leaving red little love bites behind. Then, a second finger, so much bigger than your own. Price hisses sympathetically when you do— a tiny whimper coming from the back of your throat.

This time it's Ghost that breathes into your ear. "Doin' so good f'me."

Then he works a third finger in, and your back arches at the jolt of pain that licks up your spine.

Words of praise fall upon your ears, syrupy and saccharine, dulling the ache. He scissors and stretches gingerly, as he's always done. Ghost takes his time, curling his fingers inside— a slow and steady in and out that eventually has you clamping around Price.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you do. "So bloody tight."

"Alrigh' Price." Ghost takes you by the hips and cants them forward slightly, a cry falling from your lips at the change in angle. "Hold her open f'me."

He does just that; rough, worn hands spreading you open almost embarrassingly. There's a hot and heavy weight tapping your arse once, thrice— and then there's a blunt pressure pushing into your other much smaller hole. Your spine bows at the thick invasion, it burns, it throbs, but smart fingers find your neglected pearl and start to circle it.

The pain is merely physical, it can be overcome. Focus on the touch on your clit, focus on the hands that hold you, the heat that radiates from both of them. The harsh breathing of the man behind you as he fights to keep himself from fucking himself into you unfettered. Strained noises spilled from Price's parted lips as he felt your channel constrict, your sex beginning to get slick with your desire.

Ghost hilts, leaning forward until his barrel chest hits your back, a strangled groan coming from him. You felt unbearably full, about to tear at the bloody seams. Every single nerve from your navel down to the tips of your toes was on fire. You felt a throbbing sensation radiating from the back of your skull.

It was scalding hot, searing. The thin membrane that separated them felt stretched beyond its limit.

"Y'okay?" You can't even tell who asked you that past the rushing of blood that's in your ears. Your head feels too heavy on your shoulders, letting it lull forward until your forehead rests on Price's collarbone.

Ghost's chest vibrates as he speaks, the low rumble sinking into your skin, warming you from the inside. "Breathe for us, love. Deep in, slow out."

Right.

You remember what Price had said the very first time they fucked you. 'Breathing helps to process any pain and supports the nervous system.'

As you inhale deeply, your lungs expand to the point where you can feel a twinge of discomfort. But as you exhale, the tension in your body melts, your muscles gradually slackening.

Ghost undulates his hips once languidly, and while the ache flared back to life, below that was the pleasure you've become well acquainted with, desperately clawing its way to the surface.

A moan slips out of you unbidden.

"Perfect. So fuckin' perfect." Price's praise makes you dig your fingers into his broad shoulders, nails biting into his skin.

Then you're lifted by two sets of hands— one on your hips, the other on the underside of your thighs and brought back down. Fuck.

"Tha's it, love. Takin' us both so well," Ghost murmurs. When you begin to mewl, a clear sign of pleasure, Price plants his feet on the floor, and snaps his hips up. Black spots dot your vision, a euphoria shooting through your veins.

God, you hope your hips hold out.

They begin to move in tandem, one pushing in completely, while the other pulls out until just an inch stays inside.

It's sublime, obscene squelching coming from both your front and back. Once your body gives in to their assault, everything starts to blur at the edges, from your sight to your thoughts. You melt in their hands, softening under their touch as they take their pleasure from you.

They begin to fuck you in earnest, breath punched out of you with every thrust, and when Ghost takes control by grabbing a fistful of your hair, it sends waves of something through your stomach. The loud whine that comes from you is filthy.

"Always meltin' into a puddle over a firm hand, pet. Isn't tha' right?" He asks you as if you could even dream of answering. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth, and throat like sandpaper.

"Ready to make Price come? Choke his cock with tha' vice-like cunt, love. Wrench it outta him, take every drop of his cum, and then take mine."

Who are you to disobey such an edict?

The snarl Price lets out is animalistic when you squeeze him snugly, his thrusts turn jarring as he swells and stills— twitching inside of you, warmth pooling in your belly.

Only to realize that Ghost finished simultaneously.

There's a joke in there somewhere, about a couple finishing together, but you've been thoroughly fucked stupid.

Cut.

Simon takes you home— his home, and soaks you in a warm, bubble bath that smells like something he shouldn't have.

"I bough' it for you," he hums.

His callused palms knead into your sore calf muscles, hand making its way down to press into the arch of your foot.

"Don't go makin' those noises, love."

Eventually, you address the elephant in the room, and his answer makes your pulse race. "Gotta create a soft safe place f'you to land after somethin' tha' intense. Ya need to wind down, catch your breath."

He says it so casually as if it was common sense.

"Here. Drink your water." The bottle in your hands is room temperature, just how you like it.

[biteyoubiteme]

perfect practice

soobin x fem!reader

warnings: 🔞!! size kink, size training, sex toys, belly bulge, breeding kink, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 800

an: short drabble <33 feedback is appreciated! [m.list]

he always starts by sloppily eating you out. not caring how your wetness drips down his chin; the lewd sounds accompanying your moans. He will make sure to get you off once maybe even twice depending on if he can stop himself.

His main goal was always to get you as slick as possible to be able to take any toy he had gotten for you. As soon as you two started dating, Soobin had gotten a set of dildos, four different sizes starting at 5 inches and going to 8.

Maybe he had been presumptuous about you being open to the idea but as soon as he saw the clear silicone set he couldn’t stop himself from imagining slipping each one into you training you to take his cock.

and as much of a perv he was in theory he wasn’t as open with you about that side of himself until he was knuckles deep into feeling your walls flutter around his fingers when he brought it up. “I wanna fuck you I just don’t think you can handle me right now,” your whining at the implication of not being stuffed full of his cock was nearly enough to make him ditch the idea all together but he held strong. “I got you a little gift to practice with first,” your hips were already rolling on his fingers ready for another round.

soobin had pulled out the smallest dildo in the set showing it off to you before making you cum hard enough to see stars. it wasn’t until the next time that you realized what was happening and you had been punished on the six-inch dildo, begging soobin to fuck you. “Only two more baby, you can be patient,” he didn’t even know how he was resisting watching the way you were being stretched out was leaving him straining in his jeans ready to burst with the smallest touch.

when you were finally down to the last dildo all eight inches slipped into you after soobin had been attached to your clit without remorse leaving you slick enough to take anything he wanted to give you. “I’m a little thicker than this but I’m sure you can take me now huh?” but it’s no use talking to you at this point already cresting on your third orgasm. your back is arching as you cum but soobins pulling away the last dildo the rivulets of wetness still stuck to the silicone making him groan as he pulls himself from his jeans.

Even with the training you can tell the difference in the stretch, the remnants of your orgasm sucking him in deeper as your walls flutter around the girth of him. you swear you can feel him in your throat, every thick vein pulsing as he pushes into you. you’re absolutely brainless as he fills you, the only sound leaving you are moans you’ve never heard yourself make before.

“oh you feel so perfect, sucking me in, taking my cock so well. perfect fit- fuck-“ he can’t keep control of himself slipping in and out of you at a delicious pace made much better from all the prep, the squelching sounds filling the room. soobin takes your hand to place over your lower belly pressing down so that you can feel the bulge of his cock. your moans mix as you feel him hitting your gspot the added pressure making you feel every thrust down to your toes.

“you feel how deep I am? now that you can take me I’ll be here,” he grunts pressing your hand down on your pelvis, “almost every night pounding into you,” he presses his lips to your ear, “filling you up. perfect practice for when we’re ready to have a baby,” your sweet whines music to his ears as you scratch down his back, “you like that huh? you want my baby?”

you’re absolutely squeezing him at the idea making it hard to keep thrusting but he’s already twitching ready to shove his hips as close as he can to yours. “no more practice to take my cock but practice to take my load, keep it as long as you can inside you, as far as I can get it, over and over again,” he doesn’t even know what he's saying anymore blabbering as your legs start shaking, hips sinking back as you arch orgasm taking over you for the fourth time.

when he cums he stills right against your cervix the warmth filling you up as you cling to soobin pulling him as close as you can get him. Neither of you can form sentences for a while taking deep breaths to try and bring your minds back. “we will definitely have to do that again, you know what they say practice makes perfect,”

[ashtavula]

Could I please request Diasomnia reacting to a long-lost childhood friend? Like they declared they would marry you one day, but you left unexpectedly and without warning. Now they've finally seen you again and all the old emotions come flooding back.

omfg this is such a cute idea!!

cw: spoilers for book 7

Diasomnia meeting their childhood friend again

Malleus:

-As soon as he lays eyes on you again, all of the air leaves his lungs. It's you. Despite everything, it's you. His feet carry him towards you, and you barely have time to register that he's in front of you before you're engulfed in a tight embrace. Malleus murmurs your name over and over, demanding to know why you abandoned him. Do you know how lonely he was without his beloved fiancée? Do you know how often he wished upon all the stars in the sky that you would return to him? And now you're back, in his arms, where you belong.

-You might think think that Malleus has forgotten his old promise to you, but he starts to refer to you as his fiancée as soon as you're reunited. When you try to brush him off, stating that it's silly to hold him to the words he spoke as a small child, Malleus pouts. He still loves you, and he still wants to marry you. And he intends to prove his devotion by putting a ring on your finger.

Lilia:

-Lilia feels like crying when he sees you again. It's been centuries, but he never forgot you. You let out a startled yelp as he suddenly appears behind you, tackling you to the ground. Lilia practically sobs out your name, burying his face against your chest. He thought he'd lost you, just like he'd lost Maleanor and Raverne. But you came back, and he promises to never let you go again. You are both his first love, and his last.

-You're surprised to see that Lilia's more laid-back now than he was when you were children together. But his desire to take care of you hasn't faded at all. Lilia still tries to feed you, and he still acts out to get your attention. And he still refers to you as his betrothed, despite your ages. When you roll your eyes at him, claiming that both of you are far too old for childhood jokes, Lilia wonders if you'll still think his feelings are a joke when he actually proposes to you properly.

Silver:

-He thinks he's dreaming at first. There's no way you're standing in front of him. Before he can think about it, Silver is reaching out and grasping your hand. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your warm fingers, and he tugs you closer, his strong arm circling around your waist. Silver leans down, and he presses his forehead against yours. He sighs out your name, and he pulls back to kiss your hand, still in his grasp. When he looks at you again, you can see his eyes soften, and his lips curve into that old, familiar smile. He spent so long dreaming about you, and now he has the real you in front of him.

-Silver immediately starts treating you the same way he did when you were both children. He shows you the animals he's befriended, letting you pet their soft bodies, and he keeps bringing you food he's made. And when he sleeps, he tries his best to stay close to you. When he wakes up from one of his naps to see you smiling down at him, just like you used to do, Silver feels his heart swell. You accepted his marriage proposal when you were kids. Now Silver is hoping you'll say yes again.

Sebek:

-When Sebek sees you again, he feels oddly conflicted. His feelings for you haven't changed, but he worries that you left because he wasn't good enough for you. Still, he can't resist the desire to be a part of your life again. And so Sebek approaches you, intent on finding out if you remember him. He gets his answer when you hug him tightly, happy to be reunited with your old friend. Sebek's cheeks flush, and he scoops you up, crushing you to his chest as he returns your embrace. He hopes that you won't notice his heart pounding as he buries his face in your hair.

-Sebek hasn't really changed since his childhood. He's still loud, and energetic. He still tries to protect you from anything that moves in your vicinity, and he still puffs out his chest with pride when you praise him. And Sebek still refers to you as his fiancée. When you try to dissuade him from doing that, he gets huffy. He insists that he made a promise to you, and that a knight always keeps their promises. And it doesn't take long for him to make that promise real by presenting you with a ring.

[bookwyrmie]

#sticky ?#i saw a post where someone reeled silk from the forest where they live and it was very cool#but from what i remember they couldnt get the stickiness off#was a while ago tho so i may be wrong Tags by milkweedman

I think it would depend on the type of spider silk. In my experience with spiderwebs there is a warp and a weft of sorts, a framework of strong fibers and then a circular weave of sticky fibers.

Another important factor to consider would be elasticity, of which spider silk has a lot (at least in its original form).

... how would knitting with spider silk feel

[kentopedia]

♰ pain reliever — okkotsu yuuta

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 2 - vampire!yuuta

your vampire boyfriend can't resist the taste of you during a certain time of the month

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, smut, period sex, vampire!yuuta, cunnilingus, blood drinking, slight teasing — 2.2k

a steady ache in your abdomen pulls you out of your previously deep sleep, the dull throb increasing with every second. it’s the middle of the night, and your eyes are still heavy with exhaustion, the back of your eyelids burning when you try to squeeze them shut once more. 

though, no matter how many times you flip to the other side, the pain won’t subside, not even a little bit. you’re left curling into a ball, glaring at the emptiness of the dark. 

beside you, the bed is empty, though that wasn’t unusual for the middle of the night. still, it would’ve been nice to curl up into another body, to feel your boyfriend’s large palm rub over your stomach, in the hopes that it would ease the cramps.

you shift onto your stomach and check your phone, already missing yuuta. it’s just a little over three, but there’s no messages from him, no indication as to where he’d gone for the evening. 

you contemplate calling him; but when your finger hovers over his name, you click your phone off and sigh. they’re just cramps—nothing you can’t handle on your own. this time of the month had come and gone a hundred times before. you just need a heating pad and some pain reliever, and that should be enough to lull you back to sleep.

with eyes that are half-shut, you lazily slump towards the door, feeling far too much like a zombie. the floor is cold under your bare feet, and you shiver, picking yuuta’s sweatshirt up off the edge of the bed to throw it on. 

the moment you open the bedroom door, a wave of overwhelming perfume assaults your senses, the mixture one of every fall aroma. it combines into a cloud of smoke and wax, and its too much, far too much. the smells nearly have you choking. 

in the living room, there are thirty different flames lit, spread across the surfaces. they illuminate the room with a haunting glow, showcasing yuuta, who sits in the corner of the sofa, contemplative. 

“yuuta?” you say, calling out his name. he clenches his jaw but keeps his eyes forward. with his acute hearing, he’d probably heard the breath you took when you woke up, and every movement you’d made after that. “the candles are giving me a headache, baby.” your eyes begin to water from the smoke in the air, and one by one, you start to blow them out. 

“no!” yuuta exclaims, and when you turn, his irises are darker, wide as they watch you move around. “leave them.”  

you frown, but blow another one out as yuuta squeezes his palms to his side. his back goes taut, straightening as tension stretches him thin.

“it’ll just make me nauseous.” there’s a sour taste growing in your mouth, a pain in your temple. you reach for the final three candles. they aren’t as strong, but they still fill the air, a culmination of pumpkin, vanilla and coffee. “i started my period.” 

yuuta’s eyes flash as he watches you bend over to blow out one of the candles, your lips puckering, before you move to the last flame. his gaze is careful, considering as your little exhale extinguishes the fire.

“i know,” yuuta says, grabbing your wrist before you can blow out the final flames. his dark locks are loose, falling over his paler skin as he licks his lips. a sharp gaze pins you, tracing from your forehead to your chin. “i could smell you all the way from the bedroom.”

you blink, swallowing at his predatory eyes, the way his pupils darken, sharp white canines curling over his lips. it’s easy to forget, truly, how dangerous he is. he’s sweet and caring—not like the vampires you’ve seen in the movies—but he is, still, a vampire.

yuuta lures you in, inching you closer until you’re beside him on the couch, your breath the only sound between you. “i thought you were…” you trail off, a part of your voice cracking. “didn’t you go hunt?” 

it seems like a strange word to say, but you couldn’t think of a better one. you suppose, at the end of the day, he is more of a creature than a man. his instincts ones of bloodlust, ones that he has to fight against every moment that he’s with you. 

“couldn’t leave,” he says, his voice coming out clipped. “tried to, but i just kept thinking of your sweet blood. tastes so good.” his hand rests on your thigh, fingers rubbing small circles near your hip. “are your cramps getting bad?” 

you look at him from under your lashes as he licks his lips, pushing you backward slowly, until your head hits the arm of the sofa. the palm on your body is cold, but it does little to cool your heated skin. 

“it hurts,” you finally nod, breathing heavily as he smiles, sympathetic to your pain. 

“let me help,” yuuta inches a finger into your waistband, slowly dragging down your shorts. his tongue darts out across his lip, hungrily, like he might have trouble controlling his urge to devour you. 

you swallow. when you still him with a touch to his wrist, he simply cocks his head, curious, his fingers still resting between your shorts. 

“get a towel first,” you say, but the request is ignored. he slides the shorts completely off, lowering his head. “you’ll make a mess.”

yuuta ignores you, salivating as he kisses from the crevice of your knee, up your thigh. he inhales deeply against your hipbone, the strong aroma of your arousal and blood almost too much for him. 

bowing his head, he presses his lips to your cunt, licking you through your panties, lapping at the spot of blood that had already begun to stain there. “i don’t plan on wasting a drop, princess.” 

a stuttering breath leaves you, and your head falls back as yuuta kisses you softly over the cotton. his tongue flicks out, warm and wet, licking a stripe through your folds. the thin piece of cloth sucks into them, blood seeping through. 

“yuuta,” you whine, impatient he takes his time with you, his long fangs catching on the flimsy underwear. 

“don’t want to go too fast.” finally, he glances up, stares at you with hungry, black eyes. yuuta drags your panties off, but he’s far too slow, teasing you. “you know how much i love sucking the blood from your pretty pussy, hm?” his voice comes out in a near growl, and his grip grows tight around your knees, spreading your legs further. “wait for it all month.” 

he runs a tongue over sharp white teeth, hungry at the sight of you spread out, bloody and bare, just for him. 

“even when it hurts?” you ask in a small voice, but yuuta smiles, his thick eyelashes fluttering. his dark lips curl at the corners, more mocking than kind, drinking you in.

“it won’t hurt for long, love.” yuuta kisses the inside of your thighs, licking every inch of skin he can manage to get his tongue on. “besides, you get turned on so easily when you’re bleeding.”

he pushes his tongue against your entrance, curling over your wet arousal. the kisses are with such care, reminiscent of the sweet boy you’re used to loving, the one who stumbles over his words and still flushes hot when you kiss him. though, that familiarity only lasts for a moment. once yuuta gets a taste of you, his hunger doubles. 

he sucks, hard, his lips around your clit, the pressure sending a wave of desire through your body. you reach down and grip his dark locks, in any attempt to guide him within your thighs. though, you’re under yuuta’s control completely, and he licks deep in you, gathering the clots of blood onto his tongue. 

“fuck,” he hums against your cunt, his nose nudging your clit as he curses. the vibrations of his words shake you, and instinctively, your thighs try to squeeze together. but yuuta is stronger than you—much stronger—and he keeps them spread apart, fingers leaving tiny imprints on your skin. “you’re so sweet. so good for me. never tasted anyone like you before.” he praises, but its hard for him to speak as he fucks his tongue into you, lapping at your juices like its the nectar of gods. 

you can’t think of anything to say, and a soft whimper leaves your lips, the sound of his name barely audible with your exhale. yuuta’s fangs are smooth against your hot body, almost soothing as he runs his tongue along your folds. 

“i’ll make the the cramps go away.” he says. yuuta’s been replaced by a much cockier, confident version of the occasionally awkward vampire. his fangs gleam as he looks up at you, and your eyes flutter shut, hardly able to focus on the sight of him sucking at your bloody pussy. “promise, princess. it’s the least i can do when you keep me so well-fed.”

you nod, humming, but the sound is lost as yuuta dives back down, the blood coating his lips, his nose, dark against his chin. he takes both your thighs and throws them over his shoulder, reaching deeper in your hole as you moan, far too sensuously for the silent room. 

“yuuta—” you start, but you don’t remember it feeling this good before, you don’t remember pain ever being taken from you so easily. the words die, and you begin them again. “your tongue—”

he smiles, tightening his grip as he sucks faster, harder. “feels better?” 

“almost,” you say, breathless. “it’s… not enough.” 

yuuta groans, but he pulls back, licking the blood off his lips. “course it’s not,” he says. “so greedy, sometimes.” he presses, small, quick kisses across your thigh, teeth grazing the skin, and slides a finger into you; then another. 

his fingers are long, far longer than his tongue, and he stretches you, your walls sucking them right back in. with a gasp, you squeeze your thighs around his head, but yuuta just sighs. 

“please,” he says, teeth against the soft skin of your thigh. “please, can i?”

he’s close to begging, even though you’re the one who’s desperate, and you nod, needing him to curl farther into you, to reach the spot that’s deep within you. the sounds grow louder, lewd as his fingers sink in and out of you, so thick within your tight cunt.

yuuta bites you, then, sinks his fangs into your thigh, and you nearly scream, arching up into him as you start to tremble. 

his usually white teeth stain a deep scarlet, and he groans against your body, pulling back to watch you. “want you to cum for me, nice and hard, okay baby? we gotta get rid of those cramps.” he drinks from your thigh again, and you’re so close, not even realizing that you’re thrusting your hips up to meet his fingers as he goes inside you. 

“y-yuuta” you say, taking two hard breaths when he abandons the open wound on your thigh, and returns to sucking your clit, rubbing you with just enough force. the ache builds up and up, and you’re right on the ledge, about to fall over, his name leaving your lips once more in a cry. 

“that’s it,” he says, pumping in and out of you, graceful and heavy. “oh you’re so pretty, you know that? i’ve lived for centuries, and in all that time, i’ve never seen anyone look as perfect as you when they cum.” 

you break then, squeezing his fingers as babbled words leave your lips in a moan. your entire body shakes, convulsing as you reach blissful release, and you slump back on the couch, your head hitting the arm rest.

yuuta slides his fingers out of you slowly, and then he sticks them in his own mouth, licking every drop of your blood and juices from his hand. his eyes are blown wide with lust, hazy and dark as he drinks you up. 

“i can’t get enough of you,” he says, his voice so hoarse that the words are almost nothing at all. “my sweet little human girl.” yuuta doesn’t move, but he’s so lost in the taste of you, even as his cock strains hard against his flannel pajama pants. “just right there for the taking. a warm body full of the most delicious blood. mine.”

you pull him close then, needing to kiss him, feeling his hard teeth bump against your own. he tastes metallic; it’s not as good as he makes it out to be. still, if it drives him crazy, turns him into an absolute addict from just the scent of you, you’ll gladly give him every drop he wants. a smile graces your lips as he groans into you, licking your mouth. 

“yuuta?” 

he pulls away for just a moment, blinking lust-blown eyes. “hm?” 

“my cramps are gone.”

tags: @satohruu @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346 @annoyingpainterprincess

OCTOBER MASTERLIST

btw this was going to be a toji fic and then he lost the poll ... i did not know there were so many yuuta fans following me

[prentissluvr]

breathe, baby — sam winchester

cw : gn!afab!reader, smut, no plot, fluff, brief mention of canon typical violence & demons at the beginning, making out, clothed grinding, fingering, swearing, pet names (baby, honey), praise, sam calls reader pretty/beautiful, light dom/sub dynamics in the later half (softdom!sam), allusions to oral (r!receiving) 4.1K words.

summary : after a close call on a hunt and a confession, you and sam have sweet, desperate sex. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI WITH MY NSFW CONTENT. YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED !!!

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

this is the second time that you find yourself gasping in sam’s arms in one night. just two hours ago, it was an unpleasant sensation; he held you close as you tried to catch your breath after nearly being choked into unconsciousness by a demon. the part where he held you close was not the unpleasant part. despite the fact that you were having difficulties breathing, you very much so savored the feeling of having him close.

but this… this isn’t just pleasant, it’s pleasure itself. you decide that there’s nothing finer than sam winchester kissing you. he kisses you so hard you can barely breathe, so hungrily that his nose scrunches up and his lips swallow yours and when you part, you’re gasping for breath.

“sam,” you pant out, his big nose still pressed against your cheek and the feeling of his tongue in your mouth lingering so strongly it’s almost buzzing.

“yeah? you okay?” he asks, his own voice just as breathless as yours. the large hand he has resting on the side of your face glides along your cheekbone, fingertips soothing against your skin and wide palm brushing past your ear. his touch dips, lightly ghosting over the bruises on your neck, but it doesn’t hurt, not with how soft he is.

“i’m good,” you assure him, still catching your breath, mind still reeling over the fact that you’re straddling his lap on a motel room bed and his big arm is wrapped around your waist. “really good. just… just wanted to tell you that i’m never gonna let you stop kissing me,” you murmur. his face is so close that you feel the movement of his lips stretching into a smile. he parts further from you, still cupping your cheek. he wants to look at you.

“yeah?” he asks again, voice pleased and tinged with this roughness that isn’t just lust. with sam, it’s always so much more. he’s smiling and his eyes are dark in the dim light of the room and you press a sweet kiss to his grin because you can’t resist it. he kisses back, only a little because he’s busy smiling.

“yeah,” you whisper, pulling away again so he can see that you’re smiling too. that gets him going. really everything about you gets him going, but to have you on his lap, your chest pushing him back into the headboard and your soft smile as you say sweet, almost sappy things? that’s more than enough to drive him crazy.

he wants to be gentle. so, very gentle, but he can’t help himself when both of his hands grab at the sides of your face and pull you back to him. it’s not like he’s rough by any stretch, but there’s a certain desperation thrumming through him, transerfing from his firmly placed palms and almost trembling fingertips to the warm skin of your cheeks. 

the force with which he kisses you pushes you backwards, and one hand flies from its spot on his waist to steady yourself on the mattress behind you. the small sound that escapes your throat is muffled by his greedy mouth, and he wants to hear more. all of your sighs and sweet sounds, thusfar quiet and somewhat controlled, have been driving him truly crazy.

almost regretfully, he allows one hand to slide down from your face to your waist, his hold there strong as he hoists you further up into his lap. he’s hard underneath you, and you moan at the feeling. your mind goes blank for a moment, long enough for him to attach his lips to the spot where your jaw curves up to your ear. you sigh aloud at that too, and sam is feeling very satisfied with your reactions; your lips staying parted and your eyes glazing over when you finally feel a semblance of just how big he is.

he gives your sensitive skin a little suck and your hands fist at the fabric of his white undershirt. he feels your knuckles against his side through the thin cotton, your grip pulling the fabric taut around his back. that’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going.

his tongue is just as greedy as his soft lips as it swipes over the skin of your neck, savoring your taste. the sweat and grime of the hunt had been washed off in the shower not too long ago, but your skin is just a little salty from getting all worked up in his lap. sam is utterly obsessed with that taste, his tongue flattening against your pulse point when you tip your head back to give him better access. the loud breath that you let out is halfway to a moan, and both of you are thinking about his tongue being somewhere else.

you push your hips into him at that thought and sam lets out a low groan at the pressure. now you’re feeling greedy. there’s no way you’ll survive without hearing more of him. you grind into him again and he grips your hips tight, letting out another gruff sound.

“shit, baby,” he groans, hot breath fanning against the skin of your neck. you huff at the sound of his voice, gone all husky and desperate. “what do you– what do you want here? you okay to keep going?” sam sounds like the only thing he’s doing right now is holding back.

“yes,” you gasp out, “god, yes.” you slip your hands all the way down his sides until you can grip the hem of his shirt. “can– can i?”

sam’s chest heaves at the sound of your voice, your sweet question, and the way that you look right into his eyes with such a caring, pleading gaze. he realizes that you’re being careful with him, just like he is with you, and he just has to kiss you for it. you kiss back without question, fingers still gripping his shirt. when he pulls away, he has to keep himself from ripping the shirt off himself, but he wants to see and feel you do it yourself.

“‘course you can,” he says, voice hushed. the small wait is more than worth it when your eyes turn excited and your hands fumble to pull the fabric up his sides. your knuckles brush against his bare skin and once you reach his chest, he lifts his arms and pulls it the rest of the way off. his hands are back on your hips in seconds, and you’re too busy raking your gaze over the exposed skin of his torso to see him swallow thickly as he takes in the way you look at him.

you completely forget that you planned to rip off your own shirt too, and instead lean forward to kiss his collarbone with a heavy fervor. his head tilts back a little as he sighs and you grab at his waist, thumbs eager and brushing against his warm skin. you kiss and lick and suck and sam moans for you. his fingers slip under your shirt and you welcome the sensation, kissing him harder in response.

you dip your head lower, hands beginning to roam, up his muscled arms, over his belly, somehow soft and toned all at once. your mind and body are at war. you want to keep kissing, getting lower, dragging your hands up and over his chest. but you want his hands to move, to feel you all over. then you suppose that you could certainly get both. you part from him for just a moment to pull your shirt off, your hands brushing against his as they hold your waist tight.

his jaw clenches and his eyes turn hungry as he watches you intently. you waste no time in taking off your bra too, watching his face as you do. his tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he sees your bare chest rising up and down and he holds back a pleased groan.

he raises his hand up and you think he’s going to touch you there, but he reaches for your face and brushes his knuckles over your cheek bone.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers. there’s a rasp to his voice, rough and sweet as he takes you in. your cheeks grow hot, but you bask in the praise anyway.

“and you’re fucking unreal, sam,” you say earnestly, voice equally as husky. he grunts and grabs at your sides, pulling you back into him and kissing your hard. his thumbs push a little into the plush of your breasts and his palms press into your ribs. you arch your back into him, pushing your chest against his and you feel his lip curl up against yours as a guttural sound forces its way out of his throat. a sigh of pleasure leaves your lips and you grind against him in earnest. his hips buck up into yours and the vague thought that he must be uncomfortable in those jeans floats through your mind.

he groans into your mouth and you just need him to touch you more. you pull away, chest heaving, hands roaming. on instinct, sam reaches further up, but at the last second he grips your shoulder instead.

“can i?” he chokes out. 

“yes,” you whine, nodding impatiently and sliding your hands up to his chest, asking for your own permission with your eyes. he catches the pause and look in your eyes and he feels all soft for you again. he leans in close, nuzzling his nose into your cheek and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth.

his voice is still hoarse, but loving too. “you can touch me wherever you want, honey. promise.” you swallow a moan and reciprocate his sweetness with a kiss to his cheek.

“you too, sam,” you huff. “promise i’ll tell you if i need you to stop, but please… don’t stop.”

“okay,” he breathes, “okay, i won’t. i won’t, baby.” with that, he just paws at you, taking and grasping and groaning when you brush your thumbs over his nipples. “shit,” he gasps, his nose still digging into the soft skin of your cheek. he reciprocates, flicking over your hard nipples with his big thumbs, pinching a little and making you whine into his mouth.

it all feels so good, but all you can think about is the ache between your legs. his bulge under your clothed core has you wet, and you need more. you need his fingers.

you dip your head and his lips meet the crown of your head as you squeeze the flesh over his ribs and gasp for breath.

“oh, god. sam, please, i need… more, please,” you croak, dropping your head all the way down to his shoulder and pressing a messy, open mouthed kiss to the skin where his shoulder meets his neck.

“okay, okay. i can give you more,” he whispers fervently, grabbing your hips and lifting you up. you follow his lead, scrambling off of his lap. “go ‘head, lay down, honey,” he urges softly, eyes dark and hungry. you heed his instructions eagerly, settling into the pillows behind you as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, just to ease the pressure. they hang loose on his hips and his black boxers show off his bulge even better. 

you’re about to ask him to just take his jeans all the way off when he carefully grabs your legs from under your knees and drops them open, stunning you into silence. he settles between your legs and slips his hands under the waistband of your sweatpants. he starts to tug at them and he doesn’t have to ask for you to lift your hips for him to shimmy your pants down your ass and onto your thighs. you lift your knees to your chest so that he doesn’t have to move down to get them off.

“so good for me,” he murmurs once they’re fully off, his big hand running down your thigh while the other keeps your knees tucked up. you groan a little at his words, at the sensation, and squirm without thinking. “shhh,” he hushes gently, “‘s okay, ‘m gonna help you out, sweetheart. can i take these off?” he asks, big fingertips playing with the hem of your panties.

you nod your head quickly. “please, yes.” you don’t think you could have him quickly enough.

with your permission, sam doesn’t waste any time. there’s no need for you to lift your hips; he just pushes your knees further into your chest with one hand and slips the waistband down. his knuckles brush against the skin of your ass and you think about how big his whole hand would feel there. but you choose to focus on the look on his face when he pulls your panties all the way down and lets your legs fall open around him.

his pupils are blown out and lips curved up in awe as he runs his hands up your thighs. when you shudder at his touch he applies light pressure, pushing your legs into the bed and humming, all pleased with your reactions.

“please, sam,” you whine, voice breathy and begging as you try your hardest not to squirm so much. but having him over you, his eyes just staring at your bare cunt and big, big hands gripping your upper thighs after more than just months of pining for him… it’s not easy to stay still or quiet or be able to think, really.

sam is holding back from looping his hands under your thighs, pulling you to him and just shoving his face against your pussy. it’s wet and shiny for him and just begging for attention and he needs to taste you more than anything in the world. but he wants what you want and he wants to be soft and careful about it all, for you.

“how do you want it, baby?” he asks hoarsly. under your breath, you swear softly, unbelieving that you’re so lucky to have him.

“y-your fingers, sam, please,” you whine out, eyes glued to the way they look over your thighs, digging lightly into the flesh. they’re so long and thick and you can’t even imagine how much better than your own. sam can’t even be disappointed that you didn’t ask for his mouth; the way he can so clearly see how much you want his fingers, how much you’ve thought about them, gets him going perfectly well enough. and there’s nothing stopping him from eating you out right after he’s made you cum on his fingers. that sounds like heaven.

“okay, honey,” he whispers, rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive skin right where your thighs melt into your outer lips and your eyebrows knit together in desperation. he can’t help himself when he drifts just one hand over your heat, ghosting your skin and making you shiver and moan. his fingertips brush over your lower tummy and the heel of his palm picks up a little of your slick. “so pretty,” he murmurs. you toss your head to the side and into the pillow and breathe heavy.

“please, sam, please,” you gasp, trying not to buck your hips up into his hand, but twitching up anyway.

“alright, alright,” he exhales softly, pressing his hand all the way over you and reveling in the way your eyes squeeze shut and your hips cant up, trying to add more pressure. he lifts his other hand to your hip and presses you back into the mattress gently. just that makes you moan softly. really, sam just wants to keep looking, feeling, exploring. he wants to put both thumbs on the sides of your outer lips and pull them apart and look and feel you shiver against him and tease up and down your slit. 

but he really wants to make you feel good, so he shifts his hand and starts rubbing your clit with two fingers gently. you sigh out, long and loud and pleasured. your hips move up into him again as your hands fly up to grip the pillow by your head. sam groans at the sight.

he dips his fingers lower for a quick second, gathering some of your wetness and rubbing it into your clit. you cry out this time, one hand loosening its grip on the pillow in favor of fumbling for the hand that sam still has pressing your hips down. he obliges happily, holding your hand against your hip bone and goddamn smiling at you.

the pressure builds quickly and you moan and whine and squirm for him, all while he looks at you with awe and love and determination.

“you’ve been so polite for me,” he notes, pleased. “always saying please without me even asking you to.” his tone is hushed and a little gravely before he leans down to place a kiss to your lower stomach. you hum out a sweet moan. “and you sound so lovely, so pretty, honey,” he murmurs.

you grip his hand and the fabric of the pillow and push your face into your upper arm, whining out at his words.

“sa-sam, please, baby,” you groan, “m-more, i need more, i want your fingers in me, please!”

sam grunts at your words. “fuck, you’re so good. asking for exactly what you want, using your words for me, god. i’ll give it to you, ‘f course, i’ll give it to you.” he’s got to be fucking obsessed with you. he starts with one finger, gently prodding at your entrance before easing it in.

“shit…” you moan, stretching the word out and letting your voice break in pleasure. “s-so good,” you mumble, gripping his hand even tighter.

“yeah?” he whispers, pulling his finger out just a little before pushing it back through your folds.

“a-ah! yes,” you pant out. “f-fuck, sam, i–,” you cut yourself off with another moan when he sets a steady pace, just his one finger working wonders. but you’re growing just a little desperate, so worked up and so fucking in love with him that it’s driving you crazy. “m-more, please,” you whine.

“okay, i got you,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb as he gently pushes in another finger.

“gahh– god!” you gasp. “shit, sammy. so good, that’s so good.” you writhe under him as he pumps his long fingers into your begging cunt, making such a lewd, wet sound. “a-ah, fuck! right there, sam. oh my god, right there,” you babble, hips pushing into his hand. it’s not as if no one’s ever hit your sweet spot before, but fuck, it’s different when it’s sam. everything’s different, better, more intense, when it’s sam. 

“yeah? right there?” he presses a kiss to closest place he can reach, bending down and catching the skin of your thigh between his lips. he’s more than just pleased that he’s found your sweet spot so quickly, and as he continues pushing the soft pads of his fingertips right against your gummy walls, he soaks it up, memorizinng it all. 

the way your moans change, your voice jumping in pitch and getting louder, they way you buck up into his hand and the way that you clench around him. and your face, god he could look at it all day, maybe cum in his pants just from seeing you like this. all desperate and needy and blissed out; pupils blown, eyebrows knit together, and mouth hanging open half of the time to let your pretty sounds out. or he gets to watch you snap your jaw shut, bite and lick at your bottom lip, hold a groan back only for your lips to part again to pant and gasp and moan. it’s almost like you forget how to breathe through your nose, and it makes you sound all the more worked up.

as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, he squeezes love into your hand, making you think about his palm against yours and somehow making it all more intense. his thumb rubs the back of your hand soothingly, such a stark contrast to the strength and fervor with which he fucks his fingers into you. 

“breathe, baby,” he reminds you sweetly. god, it’s hard to comply as you watch the muscles of his arm tensing as he pleases you, the veins of his hands and arms popping out with the rush of his blood. but you take in a long, deep breath and let it out. it shudders and ends in a whine, but your muscles relax for a moment and you melt a little into the mattress for just a moment.

“h-haahh, sam, i’m– mm, i’m close!” you whine, thighs tensing up again. you lift your knees and push your feet into the mattress on either side of his thighs, trying hard not to close your legs as the pleasure becomes so intense that you can’t keep still at all.

“fuck, that’s good. you gonna cum for me?” he asks, getting eager. he can’t wait to see you tip over the edge, to feel it. but he doesn’t get greedy, just in case this is the perfect pace for you. 

you answer his prayers in the form of a dirty moan. “huh-harder, please!”

sam is more than happy to oblige. he already knows that he loves to be soft with you. he loves to have his fingers stuffed up your pussy while he holds your hand and kisses your thigh sweetly. he loves to speak to you all gentle and loving and dirty too. but he does love the way you react when harder means just a little rougher, deeper, and faster. your jaw falls all the way open and you can’t close it. your eyes shut tight, then fly right back open because you don’t want to miss the sight of his fingers pumping into you like this. you don’t want to miss the way his face looks as he does it.

and it makes you loud. you’re used to keeping yourself quiet when you take care of yourself, but that’s not an option this time around. not with sam.

and of course, it makes you cum. it sends you reeling, keening, and it pulls his name from your mouth with a force that you’ve never felt before. and sam swears he’s gonna make you cry out his name like that every fucking day, if you’ll let him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, ahh– sam! feels s’good,” you slur. “sam…”

you clench around him so hard that it’s not necessarily easy to fuck you through it, but he does so good anyway. you shudder and pant and whine, and his name said again, all breathy and slurred is just as good as the first shout. and finally, you fall against the bed with a huff of breath, the sheets beneath you wet and messy.

you tense and whine when he pulls his fingers from you, and he’s quick to hush you gently.

“oh, you did so good, baby,” he murmurs, settling his still slick-covered hand on your hip and it makes you shiver just a little. he shuffles a bit closer to you, dropping his head down to kiss your sweet lips. you can barely kiss back when you’re so breathless, but you try, so he settles for sucking a little on your bottom lip and letting you sigh against his hot skin. your hand drops down from where it gripped the pillow, settling hungrily on his broad shoulder and running up and down the skin.

“felt so good,” you mumble against his lips, still blissed out. his smile interrupts the lazy kiss, and he feels greedy again. insatiable, really.

“will you let me make you feel good again?” he whispers, making sure you know that you can say no if it’s too much. it’s clear to him that you need to catch your breath, so he certainly won’t start right away. not until you ask him to.

“god, you’re too good to be true,” you say, wondering at him. “but i wanna make you feel good, too.”

he smiles wider, then kisses you again with a little more passion than the last. “trust me, honey. this’ll make me feel real good. i wanna taste you, so fucking bad, baby.”

you can’t help the groan that escapes your throat at his words. “yeah?” you ask breathlessly.

“uh-huh,” he nods, nose tickling the skin of your cheek. “you gonna let me make you cum on my tongue, honey?”

“fucking yes,” you pant, “yes, please, sam… make me cum on your tongue.” 

it doesn’t take long to learn; if you let him start, he’s never gonna be able to stop. he’s completely obsessed and in love with you, and you can expect his mouth on your pussy until the day he dies.

[pucksandpower]

Never? Never.

Day 14 → Innocence Play 💋 Lewis Hamilton

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

The office feels charged. There’s a weight in the air, one that sits low on Lewis’ chest as he waits. His arms are crossed, and he leans back slightly in his chair, fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the armrest.

He’s not impatient, exactly. More … curious. A steady line of candidates has been moving in and out all morning, but none of them have made much of an impression.

Then the door opens.

You step in, and for a second, the world seems to shift. Lewis sits up straighter, the tapping on the armrest stops as his hand stills. It’s subtle, but something inside him clicks.

You’re standing there, blinking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, dressed in a way that shouldn’t catch his attention but does. There’s something about you — something that feels out of place, but in a way that demands his attention.

You look young. Too young, maybe. But your resume … he remembers it well. It was strong, impressive even, especially for someone your age.

That’s why you’re here, why you got the interview. But now that he sees you — sees the way your lips press together nervously, the way your hands fidget at your sides — he knows. He’s already decided.

You’re the one.

He clears his throat, motions toward the chair opposite him. “You can sit.”

You hesitate for half a second, then move quickly to take a seat. Your movements are precise but careful, like you’re hyper-aware of the space around you.

“Thank you,” you say softly, your voice almost a whisper. Lewis has to resist the urge to lean in closer, as if proximity could make you louder.

For a moment, there’s silence. It hangs in the air between you, but it isn’t uncomfortable. He watches you, studies the way your fingers lace together in your lap, the way your gaze flickers between him and the floor.

“So,” Lewis finally says, his voice deep, smooth, breaking the stillness. “You’re younger than I expected.”

You look up sharply, and there it is — that nervous energy he noticed the moment you walked in. “Is that … a problem?”

Lewis leans back in his chair, watching you carefully. “Not necessarily.” He lets the words hang, lets you sit with them for a moment. Then he adds, “Your resume says enough. But you know, experience counts too.”

You nod quickly, like you’ve rehearsed this. “I’ve worked hard to gain as much experience as possible, despite my age. I did an accelerated program, internships, and I’ve had hands-on experience in sports therapy.”

He smirks a little, not unkindly. “That’s what the resume says. But I want to know if you can keep up. My schedule is … demanding.”

“I can handle demanding.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow, intrigued. There’s a quiet strength in your voice now, something steady beneath the nerves. It draws him in. “You sure?”

You nod again, a little more confidently this time. “I’m sure.”

For a moment, he just looks at you. There’s something about your determination, your innocence wrapped in a quiet kind of fierceness, that makes him want to test you. Push a little further. See how far you’ll go.

“You know what I do, right?” he asks, voice low, almost teasing. “How intense it gets?”

Your lips part slightly, eyes wide again, but you don’t look away. “I know.”

“And you think you can keep up with that? With me?”

You hesitate, but only for a fraction of a second. “I do.”

Lewis lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and there’s a flicker of something — something he can’t quite name — that runs through him. Maybe it’s the way you sit there, unwavering under his scrutiny. Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re still so young, so innocent, yet there’s an undeniable strength beneath it all.

“You don’t look like you belong here,” he says suddenly, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

Your cheeks flush, but you don’t back down. “Maybe I don’t. But I can do the job.”

That makes him smile, really smile this time. “Confident.”

You don’t respond, just look at him with those wide, innocent eyes that make something inside him twist. He’s always liked control, liked knowing where everything stands, and right now, he’s trying to figure out where you fit into that. Because you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t affect him like this. But you do.

“Okay,” he says finally, breaking the silence again. “Let’s say I believe you. What makes you think you can handle me?”

You blink, clearly caught off guard. “I-I mean, I’ve worked with athletes before. High pressure, fast-paced environments.”

Lewis shakes his head, leaning forward now, arms resting on the table between you. “No. What makes you think you can handle me? It’s not just about keeping up with the physical demands. It’s about knowing what I need, sometimes before I even know it myself.”

You swallow hard, and he watches as you process the question. It’s not fair, not really, because how could you possibly know what he’s asking for? But he wants to see how you’ll respond, how far you’ll go to prove yourself.

“I … I think I’m good at reading people,” you say slowly, carefully. “I can pick up on what they need, even when they don’t say it out loud. I don’t know everything about you yet, but I’m confident I can learn.”

There it is again — that quiet strength. The determination that makes something inside him tighten. He likes it. He likes you.

“You’re not what I expected,” he says after a long pause, his voice softer now.

You blink, unsure how to respond. “Is that … bad?”

Lewis shakes his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. “No. It’s not bad at all.”

There’s a beat of silence, then he adds, “You’ve got the job.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “But … you didn’t ask me any real questions. You haven’t seen what I can do.”

“I don’t need to,” he says simply, standing up from his chair. He walks around the table, stopping just in front of you. “I already know.”

You stand too, a little more slowly, still looking at him like you can’t quite believe what’s happening. “But … why?”

Lewis steps closer, close enough now that he can see the way your breath hitches just slightly. He lowers his voice, eyes locked on yours. “Because you’re the only one who walked in here and made me feel something.”

Your breath catches, and for a second, neither of you move. There’s something electric in the air, something that crackles between you, and Lewis feels it in his chest, in the way his pulse quickens.

“You’re going to learn a lot,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper now. “About me. About what I need. And I’m going to push you, test you, see how far you can go. But I think you’re ready for that.”

You swallow hard, and he watches as you try to steady yourself, try to keep up with the intensity of his gaze. “I … I am.”

Lewis nods, satisfied. “Good. We start tomorrow.”

With that, he steps back, giving you a little space, though the air between you still feels charged, thick with something unspoken. You seem unsure of what to say, how to respond, but Lewis doesn’t need words right now.

He turns, walking toward the door, but pauses just before opening it. Without looking back, he says, “See you at 6 AM sharp. Don’t be late.”

Then he’s gone, leaving you standing there, breathless and wide-eyed, already wrapped up in something you can’t quite name yet.

But Lewis knows.

He knew the moment you walked in.

You were always meant to be his.

***

The penthouse feels warm, alive in the afterglow of celebration. Outside, the city hums in the late hours, but inside, it’s just the two of you. The clink of glasses and quiet laughter fills the space as you sit on the plush couch, facing each other.

The race earlier had been electric — Lewis on top of the podium again, his smile wide and genuine, the energy of the crowd still buzzing in his veins. Now, it’s quieter. The adrenaline has faded to something softer, and there’s a comfortable ease between you that hadn’t been there in those early days. It’s been months of working together, and you’ve found your rhythm.

Lewis leans back, his long legs stretched out in front of him, one arm resting lazily on the back of the couch. His other hand holds a glass of Almave and he swirls the liquid idly, watching the way the light catches in the amber liquid.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he says, his voice low, cutting through the comfortable silence.

You look up at him, blinking a little as if pulled from your thoughts. “Just … taking it all in.”

Lewis smiles, a slow, crooked thing that makes your heart skip a beat. “Good night, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “It was … perfect.”

He watches you for a moment, studying the way you say it, the way your eyes seem to sparkle just a little more tonight. You’re both a little tipsy on the high of the win and the celebratory toasts that followed. The Almave is smooth, the evening smooth, and everything feels just a little softer around the edges.

“You’re getting better at this,” he says, leaning forward slightly, eyes still locked on you. “The whole celebration thing.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be the one celebrating.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Why not? You’re part of this. Part of me.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, heavier than you expected, and you don’t know what to say. Lewis is always like this — direct, confident, never afraid to make you think, to push just a little further than you’re comfortable. It’s why you’ve grown so much since you started working with him. He makes you better, challenges you in ways no one ever has.

“You don’t have to keep quiet when things go well,” he continues, his voice soft but firm. “You’re allowed to enjoy it.”

You nod, but there’s something in your eyes, something guarded. He notices it right away, the way you pull back just a little, and he doesn’t like it. He wants to break through that wall you still keep up sometimes, even after all these months.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, leaning in a little closer now, his voice low and gentle. “You look like you’re holding something back.”

You shift uncomfortably, eyes darting away for a second before you force yourself to look at him again. “Nothing. I’m just … tired.”

“Liar.” He says it with a teasing smile, but his eyes are sharp, focused on you in that way he has, like he can see straight through the layers you try to put up. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nod, but there’s a hesitation, a flicker of something that passes over your face. Lewis doesn’t miss it. He never misses anything when it comes to you.

“You don’t believe me,” he says, voice softer now, almost coaxing.

“I do,” you protest, but it’s weak, unconvincing.

Lewis sets his glass down on the coffee table, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Tell me something,” he says quietly, his eyes holding yours. “Something you’ve never told anyone before.”

You blink, the request catching you off guard. Your eyes widen slightly, and Lewis can see the panic flash across your face, just for a second.

“I don’t know if-” you start, but Lewis cuts you off.

“No.” He shakes his head. “No deflecting. You can trust me.”

There’s a beat of silence, and he watches as you wrestle with yourself, weighing whether or not to let him in. He’s patient, though. He knows you need time. And he knows you’ll tell him, eventually. You always do.

“I don’t …” you start, then stop, biting your lip as you look down at your hands. “It’s … personal.”

Lewis leans back again, but his eyes stay fixed on you. “That’s the point. I’m asking you to let me in.”

You fidget in your seat, your fingers twisting in your lap as you avoid his gaze. “I’m just not sure if it’s … the right time.”

Lewis lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “If not now, when? We’ve been doing this — whatever this is — for months now. I think we’re past the point of secrets, don’t you?”

You stay quiet, your eyes darting to the side, and Lewis can see the internal battle you’re fighting. He can almost feel it, the way you’re teetering on the edge of letting something out that you’ve kept hidden for a long time.

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to place a hand on your knee, his touch light but grounding. “It’s just me. You know that, right?”

You finally look up at him, your eyes searching his for something — reassurance, maybe, or understanding. And Lewis holds your gaze, steady and unwavering, waiting for you to decide.

“I don’t know if you really want to hear this,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lewis tilts his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Try me.”

There’s a long pause, the air between you thick with tension. Then, finally, you take a deep breath, your shoulders rising and falling with the weight of whatever it is you’re about to say.

“I’ve never told anyone this,” you start, your voice shaky but determined. “Because it’s … it’s embarrassing. And I don’t really know how to-”

Lewis cuts you off, his voice gentle but firm. “Don’t overthink it. Just say it.”

You swallow hard, your eyes dropping to your hands again as you fidget with the hem of your shirt. There’s a long pause, and Lewis can see how hard this is for you, how much you’re struggling to get the words out. But he stays quiet, giving you the space you need, his hand still resting on your knee, a steady presence.

Then, in a voice so soft he almost doesn’t hear it, you finally speak.

“I’ve never had an orgasm.”

***

There’s a stillness in the room after your words hang in the air. Lewis watches you, his eyes sharp, but his expression softens — careful. He wasn’t expecting that. Of all the things you could’ve said, this isn’t what crossed his mind. But there it is. Laid bare between you both.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His voice is quiet, but there’s something darker beneath it, something that makes the air feel heavier, charged.

You don’t look at him, your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands still fidgeting in your lap. “I don’t … I don’t really know why,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just never happened.”

Lewis leans back against the couch, his arm sliding across the backrest, fingers just brushing the top of your shoulder. He’s processing this, taking his time. He’s no stranger to intimacy, but this is different. This is you.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, sees the way you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice low, pulling you back from wherever your mind is racing to. “Look at me.”

You hesitate, but finally, your eyes meet his. There’s vulnerability there, a kind of rawness that makes his chest tighten. He’s used to seeing you composed, in control of yourself, even when you’re nervous. But now? Now you look small, like you’re afraid of being judged.

Lewis doesn’t judge. Not you. Not ever.

“First of all,” he says, a slow smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “there’s nothing embarrassing about that. Understand?”

You nod, but you don’t look convinced. He can tell this is something you’ve been carrying around for a while, something that’s weighed on you.

“And second,” he continues, his smile widening just a little, “I may be vegan, but I’d be more than happy to devour you.”

Your eyes widen in shock, your mouth parting slightly as his words sink in. “What?” You whisper, like you didn’t hear him right.

Lewis chuckles, low and deep, leaning in closer. “You heard me.”

He can see the confusion in your eyes, the way your mind is working overtime to process what he’s offering. He likes seeing you like this — unsure, but curious. There’s something about the innocence in your gaze that stirs something primal in him, something possessive.

“I-” you start, but you cut yourself off, clearly unsure of how to respond.

Lewis tilts his head slightly, watching you carefully, his voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to do anything. Let me take the lead.”

Your breath hitches, and he watches as your lips part again, eyes darting away from his. You’re nervous, he knows that. But there’s something else too, something that feels like anticipation. You’re intrigued, curious, maybe even a little excited by the prospect of letting go.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers now twisting the fabric of your shirt again.

Lewis shifts, closing the space between you, his hand moving to cup your chin gently, turning your face so that you’re looking at him. “You don’t have to know,” he says softly, his thumb brushing against your jaw. “All you need to do is trust me. Can you do that?”

You hesitate, your eyes searching his, trying to find something, some kind of reassurance. But there’s only certainty in his gaze, the kind that comes with confidence, with control. He knows what he’s doing, knows how to read you, and he wants to show you just how good it can be.

“Yes,” you finally breathe, the word barely audible but enough for Lewis to hear.

“Good,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing your bottom lip now. He watches as your breath catches, your lips parting just slightly under his touch. There’s a shift in the air between you, something electric, and Lewis feels it deep in his chest. He’s been patient with you, kept things professional, but there’s always been this undercurrent, this tension.

He’s not interested in waiting any longer.

His hand drops from your chin, trailing down your neck, fingers brushing over your collarbone. He watches the way your chest rises and falls, how your breath quickens just from the lightest touch. It’s intoxicating, watching you respond to him like this, and he knows you’re feeling it too — the pull, the anticipation.

“Let me show you,” he whispers, his voice low, almost a growl. “I want you to feel everything.”

You bite your lip, clearly still nervous, but you don’t pull away. You’re trusting him, even though you’re unsure of where this is going.

Lewis leans in, his lips just inches from your ear as he whispers, “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

Your body stiffens for a moment, but then he feels you melt into his touch as his hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer. It’s slow, deliberate, the way he moves, as if he’s savoring each moment, each small reaction from you. And that’s exactly what he’s doing.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching your face, gauging how you’re feeling. There’s still that uncertainty in your gaze, but there’s something else too — desire. It’s subtle, but it’s there, and Lewis can feel it in the way your body leans into his, the way your breath hitches whenever he touches you.

“Don’t think,” he murmurs, his lips just brushing against yours, teasing. “Just feel.”

You nod slightly, and that’s all the permission he needs. He closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s soft at first, almost testing the waters. But as soon as he feels you respond — feels the way your lips part under his, the way you sigh into the kiss — it deepens. His hand moves to your waist, gripping you tighter, pulling you even closer as he takes control, guiding the pace, the rhythm.

You’re tentative, unsure, but you’re following his lead. And that’s all he needs.

Lewis pulls away just slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. His thumb brushes over your cheek, and he can feel the warmth radiating from your skin, the way your body is buzzing with something new, something unfamiliar.

“How are you feeling?” He asks softly, his voice rough but tender, his hand sliding down to your hip, holding you steady.

Your eyes flutter open, and you look at him with a kind of awe, like you can’t quite believe what’s happening. “I … I don’t know,” you whisper, your voice shaky. “I feel … different.”

Lewis smiles, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip again. “Good different?”

You nod, biting your lip again, and he can see the way your body is responding, even if you’re not fully aware of it yet. You’re relaxing into him, letting go of that initial hesitation, and he loves seeing it — the way you’re starting to trust him, to trust yourself.

“Let me keep going,” he whispers, his lips grazing your ear again, sending a shiver down your spine. “I want to make you feel good. Just … let me lead.”

You hesitate for a second, your breath catching in your throat, but then you nod. It’s small, almost imperceptible, but it’s there.

Lewis doesn’t waste another second. His hand slides down your side, slow and deliberate, tracing the curve of your waist, your hip, while his other hand cradles the back of your neck, pulling you closer for another kiss. This one is deeper, hungrier, and he can feel you responding, your body leaning into his touch, your lips parting for him.

He’s in control. And you’re letting him be.

And as the night stretches on, Lewis knows one thing for sure — he’s going to show you everything you’ve been missing.

Lewis deepens the kiss, feeling the way you respond, how you melt into his touch. He moves with a slow, deliberate intensity, his hand exploring the curves of your body, memorizing every line and contour. There’s a purpose to his movements — he wants to show you what you’ve been missing, and he’s determined to do it right.

“Just relax,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a low, soothing rumble. “Let me take care of you.”

You nod slightly, your breath hitching as his hand slips under your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and Lewis feels it, the way your body reacts to his touch. He smiles, a dark, satisfied smile, knowing he’s already starting to break through the walls you’ve built up.

His lips leave yours, trailing a path down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin lightly. He can feel your pulse quicken, the way your breath comes in shallow gasps, and it only fuels his desire. He wants to hear you, to feel you lose control, to know that he’s the one making you feel this way.

“Do you trust me?” He whispers, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe, the word barely audible, but it’s enough for Lewis.

“Good,” he replies, his hand moving lower, tracing the waistband of your jeans. “Just let go. Let me show you what it’s like.”

You nod again, and Lewis feels a surge of satisfaction. He wants to take his time with you, to savor every moment, every reaction. His fingers deftly undo the button of your jeans, and he feels you tense slightly.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing purr. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

You take a shaky breath, and he can feel you trying to relax, to trust him. He slides your jeans down, his hands trailing over your thighs, his touch light but firm. He wants you to feel every sensation, to be completely aware of what he’s doing.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, but there’s a softness there too, a tenderness that surprises even him. He wants this to be good for you, wants to show you how it should feel.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly, his hands moving back up, caressing your skin. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

You bite your lip, your eyes locked on his, and Lewis can see the mix of emotions there — nervousness, anticipation, desire. It’s intoxicating.

He leans in, capturing your lips in another kiss, his hand slipping between your thighs, finding the soft fabric of your underwear. He can feel the heat radiating from you, the way your body is already responding to his touch.

“Just let me lead,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers teasing you through the fabric. “I promise you’re going to love this.”

You nod, and Lewis takes it as his cue. He slips his fingers under the waistband, finding the soft, wet heat of you. You gasp, your body arching into his touch, and he smiles against your skin.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. “Just feel.”

You’re breathing harder now, your hands gripping his shoulders, and Lewis can feel the way your body is trembling. He watches your face, the way your eyes flutter closed, your lips parted as you try to catch your breath.

“You’re so responsive,” he says, his voice low and rough. “I love how you’re reacting to me.”

He increases the pressure slightly, his fingers finding a rhythm that has you gasping, your body arching off the couch. He can feel you getting wetter, your arousal slick against his fingers, and it drives him wild.

“Do you like that?” He asks, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice breathless. “Oh God, yes.”

“Good,” he replies, his fingers moving faster now, the pace increasing. “Because I’m not stopping until you come for me.”

You moan, your body trembling as the pleasure builds, and Lewis can feel you getting closer, your muscles tensing, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. He wants to push you over the edge, to see you lose control completely.

“Let go,” he murmurs, his voice a rough command. “I want to feel you come.”

You’re close, he can feel it, and he moves his fingers faster, his thumb finding just the right spot. You cry out, your body arching off the couch, and Lewis can feel you clenching around his fingers as the orgasm crashes over you.

“That’s it,” he says, his voice a low growl. “Let it out.”

You’re trembling, gasping for breath, and Lewis doesn’t stop, his fingers still moving, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. He wants you to feel it completely, to know what it’s like to lose yourself in the sensation.

As the waves of pleasure finally start to subside, he slows his movements, his touch gentle now, soothing. He watches you, the way your chest rises and falls, your eyes still closed, a look of bliss on your face.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his fingers slipping out, his hand moving to rest on your thigh. “Absolutely incredible.”

You open your eyes, looking at him with a mix of amazement and exhaustion. “I … I can’t believe that just happened,” you whisper.

Lewis smiles, a slow, satisfied smile. “Believe it. And trust me, it’s only the beginning.”

He leans in, kissing you deeply, his hand still resting on your thigh, grounding you. He can feel the way your body is still trembling slightly, the aftershocks of your orgasm making you shiver.

“How do you feel?” He asks softly, his lips brushing against yours.

“Amazing,” you reply, your voice shaky but filled with wonder. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

Lewis chuckles, a low, satisfied sound. “Oh, it can be even better. I promise you.”

You bite your lip, looking at him with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. “Really?”

“Really,” he says, his hand moving up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “I want to show you everything, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

You blush, the color rising in your cheeks, and Lewis feels a surge of affection for you. You’re still so shy, so unsure, but you’re trusting him, and that means everything to him.

“I want that,” you say softly, your eyes locked on his.

“Good,” he replies, his voice filled with determination. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

He kisses you again, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that takes your breath away. His hand slips back down, finding the heat of you once more, and he can feel the way your body responds, the way you’re already getting aroused again.

“I want to taste you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire. “I want to make you come with my mouth.”

You gasp, your eyes wide with surprise and anticipation. “I … I’ve never …”

Lewis cuts you off with a kiss, his hand moving to gently push you back against the couch. “Trust me,” he says, his voice a low growl. “You’re going to love this.”

He moves down your body, his lips trailing over your skin, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He takes his time, savoring each moment, each reaction, until he’s settled between your thighs, his hands gently spreading you open.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

You’re trembling, your breath coming in short gasps, and Lewis can feel the anticipation radiating off you. He leans in, his tongue flicking out to taste you, and the sound you make — the soft, desperate moan — drives him wild.

He starts slow, teasing, his tongue moving in gentle, deliberate strokes, wanting to savor the taste of you, the way you respond to his touch. He can feel your body tensing, your hips arching towards him, and he holds you steady, his hands gripping your thighs.

“Just let go,” he murmurs against your skin, his tongue finding a rhythm that has you gasping, your fingers tangling in his braids. “Let me make you feel good.”

You’re moaning now, your body trembling as the pleasure builds, and Lewis can feel the way you’re getting closer, the way your muscles are tensing, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

“Oh God,” you gasp, your voice high and breathless. “Lewis, please …”

He smiles against your skin, increasing the pressure, his tongue moving faster, more insistent. He wants to push you over the edge again, to feel you lose control completely.

“Come for me,” he growls, his hands gripping your thighs tighter. “I want to taste you.”

You cry out, your body arching off the couch as the orgasm crashes over you, and Lewis doesn’t stop, his tongue still moving, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. He wants you to feel it completely, to know what it’s like to lose yourself in the sensation.

As the waves of pleasure finally start to subside, he slows his movements, his touch gentle now, soothing. Lewis pulls back slightly, watching you as you lay there, your chest still rising and falling from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

The look on your face — blissful, flushed, and so vulnerable — makes something twist deep in his chest. You’ve just experienced something new, something he’s given you, and the knowledge of that fills him with an intense satisfaction.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his smile slow and full of heat. “You taste incredible,” he murmurs again, voice rough, letting the words hang between you. “I’ve never tasted anything better.”

You’re still catching your breath, but your eyes find his, and there’s a spark of something there — nervous, but … curious.

Lewis can see the way you hesitate, the way you’re trying to form words but don’t quite know how. He leans in, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. “What is it, love?” He asks, his voice soft, coaxing. He’s patient, not wanting to rush you.

You bite your lip, your cheeks flushed with both the intensity of what’s just happened and the thought clearly forming in your mind. “I … I want to …” You hesitate, glancing away briefly, embarrassed. “I want to do the same to you.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow, intrigued, but he doesn’t say anything. He waits, watching the way your gaze drops to his chest, avoiding eye contact.

“I just don’t know … how,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

His heart stirs at your shyness, the vulnerability of your admission. There’s something so genuine about you, so unaffected. He can see the innocence still lingering in your eyes, even after everything that’s just happened. It makes him want to be gentle, to guide you, to show you that there’s no pressure here — just a shared experience between the two of you.

Lewis shifts his weight, sitting up and leaning back against the cushions. He reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he says quietly, his thumb brushing across your skin. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

You shake your head quickly, your hand reaching out to touch his chest, your fingers splayed against his skin. “I want to,” you say, the words coming out more firmly now, but still tinged with uncertainty. “I just … I don’t want to mess it up.”

Lewis chuckles, the sound low and warm, easing the tension in the room. “You won’t mess it up,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Trust me, you can’t mess this up.”

You glance up at him, your eyes searching his face, and he can see the resolve settling in. Slowly, you shift, moving closer to him, your hands tentatively sliding down his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle. Lewis watches you carefully, his breath slowing as your touch grows more confident.

Your fingers dip lower, brushing the waistband of his sweatpants, and you pause, glancing up at him again. “What do I … do first?” You ask, your voice small but filled with curiosity.

Lewis reaches down, his hand gently covering yours, guiding it to the drawstring of his pants. “You start by taking these off,” he says, his voice deep, steady. “Just go slow.”

You swallow hard, but you nod, your fingers trembling slightly as you untie the knot and slowly pull his pants down. Lewis helps you, lifting his hips slightly to ease them off, and soon, they’re discarded on the floor. He’s left in just his boxers, his arousal evident beneath the thin fabric.

You bite your lip again, your eyes widening slightly as you take in the sight of him. “I don’t … I don’t know if I’ll be good at this,” you admit, your voice wavering with uncertainty.

Lewis reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft, reassuring. “You don’t have to be perfect,” he says gently. “Just listen to me, and I’ll tell you what feels good. Okay?”

You nod, your nerves still there, but there’s a determination in your gaze now, a desire to learn, to please him the way he pleased you. Slowly, you reach for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down carefully, and Lewis lets out a low breath as he’s freed from the confines of the fabric.

For a moment, you just stare, your hand hovering uncertainly above him. “It’s … bigger than I thought,” you murmur, and Lewis can’t help but grin at your honesty.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. “You’ll get used to it.”

You look up at him, biting your lip nervously, and Lewis reaches down, taking your hand in his. He guides it to him, his breath hitching slightly as your fingers wrap around him, tentative but curious.

“Like this?” You ask, your voice small, unsure.

Lewis closes his eyes briefly, feeling the warmth of your hand around him, the softness of your touch. “Yeah,” he breathes, his voice rougher now. “Just like that.”

You start slow, your hand moving tentatively at first, feeling your way through the unfamiliar motions. Lewis watches you, his breath deepening as you grow more confident, your movements becoming more fluid. He can see the concentration on your face, the way you’re so focused on getting it right, and it only makes him want you more.

“Am I doing it okay?” You ask, glancing up at him, your eyes wide, seeking approval.

Lewis groans softly, his hand moving to rest on the back of your neck. “You’re doing perfect,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “Just keep going.”

You bite your lip again, nodding slightly as your hand moves faster, finding a rhythm. Lewis’ breath hitches, his body tensing slightly as the pleasure starts to build. He’s trying to stay in control, to guide you, but you’re learning quickly, and the way your touch feels — tentative yet eager — is driving him wild.

“You’re so good at this,” he murmurs, his hand tightening slightly on the back of your neck, encouraging you. “Just like that.”

Your cheeks flush at his praise, and you seem to grow even more confident, your movements more sure. Lewis can feel his control slipping, the pleasure coiling tight in his gut, but he doesn’t want to rush this. He wants you to feel how much he’s enjoying it, how good you’re making him feel.

“Do you want to use your mouth?” He asks, his voice low, rough with desire. “I can show you how.”

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes widening slightly at the suggestion, but then you nod. “Yes,” you whisper. “Show me.”

Lewis shifts, adjusting himself so that you have better access, and he cups your cheek gently, guiding you closer. “Just start slow,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Don’t worry about being perfect. Just take your time.”

You nod, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you lean in, your lips brushing against him tentatively at first. Lewis groans softly, his hand tightening on the back of your neck, but he’s careful not to push you too hard. He wants you to move at your own pace, to find your own rhythm.

You open your mouth, taking him in slowly, and Lewis’ breath hitches, his body tensing as the warmth of your mouth surrounds him. “Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “You feel so good.”

You look up at him, your eyes wide, and he can see the uncertainty there, but also the desire to please him. He groans, his hand guiding you gently, showing you how to move, how to take him deeper, how to use your tongue.

“Just like that,” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “You’re doing so good, love.”

You follow his lead, your movements slow and tentative at first, but you’re learning quickly, finding a rhythm that has Lewis’ breath coming in shallow gasps. He can feel his control slipping, the pleasure coiling tighter with each passing moment.

He’s never felt anything like this — the combination of your innocence, your eagerness to learn, and the way you look up at him, eyes wide and full of curiosity — it’s intoxicating.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hand tightening on the back of your neck as you take him deeper, your mouth moving in perfect rhythm with his guidance. “You’re gonna make me come if you continue doing that.”

You pause for a moment, looking up at him with wide eyes, and Lewis chuckles softly, his hand brushing through your hair. “Keep going,” he says, his voice low and rough. “I want you to finish me off.”

You nod slightly, your lips sliding back down over him, and Lewis can’t hold back the groan that escapes his lips. The pleasure is building fast, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer, not with the way you’re moving, the way you’re looking at him like you’re determined to please him.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, his hand tightening in your hair as the pleasure coils tight in his gut. “Fuck, you’re so good at this.”

You take him deeper, your mouth working in perfect rhythm, and Lewis can feel the tension building, the pleasure crashing over him like a tidal wave. He groans loudly, his body tensing as he reaches the edge.

“God, I’m gonna come,” he gasps, his hand tightening in your hair. “You should stop if you don’t want to swallow-”

But you don’t stop. Instead, you push even further, taking him deeper into your mouth, your movements growing more confident, more determined. Your tongue swirls around him, your hand stroking in time with your lips, and Lewis feels his control shatter.

He’s never felt anything like this — your eagerness, your willingness to please him, the way you’re pushing yourself to learn and to give him everything he needs. It’s overwhelming, and it sends him spiraling over the edge.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back, his eyes closing as the pleasure crashes over him in waves. His body tenses, his muscles locking up as he comes, the intensity of it almost too much to handle.

You don’t pull away. You keep going, your mouth and hand working together to draw out every last bit of his orgasm, your movements steady and sure. He can feel the way you’re trying to take everything, the way you’re pushing yourself, and it drives him wild.

He’s gasping for breath, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his release, and he forces himself to open his eyes, to look down at you. You’re still there, your eyes locked on his, a mixture of determination and curiosity in your gaze.

“God, you’re amazing,” he breathes, his voice rough and unsteady. He gently pulls you away, his hands cupping your cheeks, guiding you up to his level. “You didn’t have to do all that, you know.”

You bite your lip, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I wanted to,” you say softly. “I wanted to make you feel good.”

Lewis’s heart swells at your words, the sincerity in your voice. He leans in, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your lips, and it only makes him want you more. He pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

“You did,” he murmurs against your lips. “You made me feel incredible. You’re incredible.”

You blush, the color rising in your cheeks, and Lewis can’t help but smile. There’s something so genuine about you, so unaffected by everything that’s happened. It makes him want to protect you, to show you that you’re safe with him, that you can trust him.

He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, his expression softening. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “For trusting me. For letting me be the one to show you this.”

You smile shyly, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “Thank you for being so patient,” you reply. “For making me feel … good.”

Lewis chuckles softly, his hand brushing through your hair. “I’d say we both came out of this feeling pretty good,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye.

You laugh, the sound light and carefree, and it’s like music to his ears. He kisses you again, slow and tender, savoring the moment. There’s a warmth between you now, a connection that wasn’t there before, and it feels like the start of something new, something real.

As the night wears on, you stay wrapped in each other’s arms, talking and laughing, the intimacy of the moment lingering between you. In the back of his mind, Lewis knows that this is just the beginning, that there’s so much more to explore, so much more to learn about each other. And he can’t wait to do so.

[syluslnd]

requesting sylus going dumb for that pussy please

Sylus eating you out

You're sprawled out on the couch, bored out of your mind as Sylus works at his desk. He glances over at you from time to time, his eyes flickering with amusement at your restless shifting. You're wearing a mini skirt but you're so comfortable around him that you don't even think twice about how you're lounging.

You stretch your legs, shifting again, unintentionally parting them a little wider than you realized. Sylus, though casually sitting at his desk, immediately takes notice.

His face changes, his sharp gaze locking onto you with a different kind of intensity.

Still unaware, you continue lounging until, in a split second, Sylus is standing right in front of you, his tall frame towering over where you're laying. His presence is so sudden that you nearly jump, quickly closing your legs in a shy attempt to cover yourself. "S-Sylus” you stammer, the blush already creeping across your cheeks.

He leans in, his face just inches from yours and you can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. His lips curl into a teasing smile as he murmurs, "It's too late for blushing now, kitten."

Before you can even think of responding, Sylus's hands are on you, effortlessly prying your legs apart with his strength. His grip is firm, unyielding, as he spreads your legs wide, his eyes dropping down to take in the sight.

"Look at you" he teases, his voice low, filled with that familiar edge of control. His fingers trace along the edge of your skirt, lifting it slightly as his gaze settles on your underwear. His smirk deepens. "Cute choice."

Your blush deepens, heat flooding your cheeks as you instinctively try to close your legs again but Sylus's grip is too strong. He keeps them forced open with ease, his bare strength leaving you completely powerless against him. You're no match for him and the realization only intensifies your breathless anticipation.

Sylus watches you struggle, his smirk shifting into something darker, more devilish.

His hand moves slowly, teasingly, his fingernail tracing the outline of your clit through the fabric of your underwear. You shudder under his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers glide so agonizingly slow up and down, barely brushing against you but enough to send sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Look at you, sweetie” he murmurs, his voice a smooth, dangerous whisper.

"Breathing so hard and I've barely even touched you." His words are dripping with amusement, watching you writhe under the faintest of his touches. His fingernail grazes over you again but harder,making you gasp as the sensation intensifies. "So sensitive... you're going to fall apart, aren't you?"

You try once again to shut your legs, to block out the overwhelming feeling but Sylus isn't having any of it. His hand clamps down on your thigh, keeping you spread wide with ease. He leans in, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, "Don't even try to resist, kitten. You know you can't win."

Without another word, Sylus swiftly scoops you up into his arms and before you can even catch your breath, he's carrying you across the room. You know where he's taking you.

His special room-the one filled with all sorts of toys and devices he keeps for moments just like this. Your heart races as the door to the room swings open, revealing the dimly lit space, the shelves lined with tools of his desires, each one carefully selected for maximum control.

Sylus strides over to the bed, gently but firmly placing you down. Before you can even think to resist, he's already tying you up, his movements quick and efficient, like he's done this countless times before. He binds your wrists above your head but he doesn't stop there. He moves to your legs, tying them to the posts at the end of the bed, forcing them apart until they're spread wide, completely exposed and vulnerable to him.

You tug at the restraints but they hold firm and you know you're at his mercy now. Sylus stands back for a moment, admiring his work with a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Perfect” he says softly, his voice filled with anticipation. He moves back in, his fingers returning to where they left off, tracing along your clit once more but this time with a purpose,with nothing holding him back. "Now, let's see just how long you can take it, sweetie."

His touch is slow, teasing, drawing out the sensation until you can barely breathe, your body reacting to every light stroke. You're completely helpless, and Sylus is in full control-just the way he likes it.

His eyes linger on you with a mixture of dominance and desire and he then gets up to walk over to one of the shelves. You hear the faint sound of metal clicking and when he turns back around, you see the tool in his hand: scissors. Your breath catches as he approaches, and his smirk widens when he notices your reaction.

"Oh, don't look so nervous, sweetie" he teases, stepping close to you. "I just want to get a better view."

With slow, deliberate movements, he slides the cold metal on the fabric of your panties and your skin. You shiver as he carefully begins to cut, his eyes never leaving yours as he slices through the fabric.

The sound of the scissors cutting feels deafening in the otherwise quiet room. Inch by inch, your panties fall away, leaving you bare, fully exposed under his predatory gaze.

"There we go" Sylus murmurs, discarding the ruined fabric to the side. He takes a step back, his eyes roaming over your now fully exposed body. "Look at you. Absolutely perfect, kitten” he says, his voice low and rich with satisfaction. "All mine. You're blushing, but there's no need to be shy.You're beautiful like this."

You can't help but turn your head away, too embarrassed by how exposed you are. But Sylus doesn't allow it-he cups your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Ah-ah, none of that" he whispers, his tone teasing but firm.

"I want you to see everything. I want you to know how much I'm enjoying this. How much I'm enjoying you."

His words send a shiver down your spine and before you can respond, Sylus's hands are on your thighs, his touch firm yet tantalizing. He spreads you even wider, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of your pussy, fully revealed and vulnerable under his control. He hums appreciatively, his thumb grazing your inner thigh, so close yet not quite touching where you want him to.

"You're so pretty, you know that?" he says, his voice smooth and teasing. "So sensitive...i bet you're already aching for me, aren't you?"

His hand hovers just above your entrance, the heat of his touch teasing you to the point of madness but he's not in any hurry. He enjoys watching you squirm, helpless and needy. "Look at you” he murmurs, his tone dropping lower. "So wet already and I've barely even touched you. You love this, don't you, kitten? Being so exposed, knowing I'm the only one who gets to see you like this..."

You can't help but whimper in response, your hips instinctively moving toward him but he holds you steady, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

Then, without warning, Sylus leans down between your legs, his breath hot against your skin. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his tongue slide up the length of your entrance, slow and deliberate, teasing you with every flick of his tongue. He hums against you, clearly pleased with the effect he's having.

"Such a sweet taste” he whispers between licks, his voice muffled but still dripping with mischief. "I could do this all night."

Your head falls back against the pillows as he continues, his tongue swirling over your most sensitive spot before dipping lower, giving your entrance a slow, sensual lick. The sensation is overwhelming and your body trembles beneath him. You try to close your legs again but with a firm grip on your thighs, Sylus keeps you wide open, fully exposed and at his mercy.

"You're not getting away from me” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks. "I want to taste every part of you."

He lowers his head deeper, this time wrapping his lips around your entrance and sucking, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. You gasp, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through you.

His tongue flicks against you while he sucks, each movement designed to drive you closer to the edge.

"Mmm, that's it, kitten" Sylus purrs between slow, deliberate licks and sucks. "I want to hear you. Don't hold back."

His hands keep your thighs spread, his grip unrelenting and he looks up at you as he continues his assault, his eyes gleaming with amusement and control. "You taste so good... You have no idea how much I love this."

The teasing licks and intense sucking become almost too much and your breaths come in quick, ragged gasps. You're entirely at his mercy and Sylus knows it-he's savoring every moment, every reaction, every tremble of your body.

"Come on, sweetie” he murmurs, his voice a mix of command and dark affection. "Let me hear those sweet little sounds. I want to know just how much you love being mine."

Sylus continues to work his magic, his fingers sliding inside you with a skilled rhythm that has your breath hitching in your throat. He keeps the pace steady, his tongue mirroring the motions of his fingers as they create a delicious harmony of sensations.

Each flick and thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting a fire within you that builds with every passing moment.

You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your body responding eagerly to his ministrations. A soft moan escapes your lips and Sylus's gaze darkens, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. It's as if he's absorbing every sound, every reaction, feeding off your pleasure.

"You're so responsive" he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. "Just a little more, kitten."

His fingers and tongue work in perfect synchronization and you can feel the heat pooling in your core. Your body begins to tense, the world around you fading as you focus solely on the sensation building inside you. You're close, so close and you can't help but arch your back in response to the pleasure he's giving you.

"Please, Sylus" you gasp, the words tumbling out in a breathless plea.

He doesn't miss a beat, increasing the pressure just slightly, his thumb grazing your most sensitive spot as he continues his rhythmic dance. The sensations become overwhelming and you can feel your body shaking as the tension reaches its peak.

You're teetering on the edge and with one final flick of his tongue, you feel the wave crash over you.

Your vision blurs and a cry of pure bliss escapes your lips as you finally come undone. Every nerve in your body ignites, the pleasure surging through you in waves as Sylus holds you steady, guiding you through the climax with gentle, knowing strokes.

As you come down from the high, you're left breathless and blushing, a mess of emotions and sensations. Sylus watches you with an appreciative grin, his own eyes dark with satisfaction as he savors your taste, his fingers lingering as if reluctant to let go.

"You're perfect" he whispers, leaning in closer, his voice thick with mischief. "oh and just so you know, I'm far from done tasting you." He kisses your cheek, a teasing glint in his eye. "Get ready for another round, sweetie."

[joocomics]

ಬ scaredy cat

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: smut — mdni! wc: 1.9k

contains: friends with benefits trope, sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, overstimulation (f!rec), hickeys

During the slow boring hours of work the other day you created a list with the pros and cons of possibly dating Yeonjun.

For a while now he’s been throwing you signals about getting serious (more often than not), so you thought it would be a good idea to look at this more thoroughly, and kill some time until your shift is finally over. Aware of the already strong feelings you have for him you grab a pen and start writing…

… funny and reliable

likes to cuddle but not clingy

great sense of fashion

(extremely) good at sex

has a super cool tv …

“Is this why you've been coming over more often these days?” Yeonjun returns into the living room with drinks in hand. After sitting down on the edge of the couch which he transforms into a comfy bed every time you're here, he turns to you with a raised brow. “To watch your disgusting movies on my new TV?”

“My disgusting movies are well written cinematic experiences that you're too big of a scaredy cat to recognize the full worth of.” You explain, crossing arms in front of your chest. “And they're even cooler on your TV, so to answer your question, yes.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes at you, but you can notice there’s a half-smile creeping up on his plump lips as he looks away with amusement.

“Actually,” you say almost through laughter which brings Yeonjun’s attention back to you, “recently I made a list with your good and bad qualities and your new TV made it.”

“That's not a quality.”

Now you’re the one who rolls eyes before glancing back at the screen.

“Just be grateful it's there to fill up space in the pros column.”

“So what are my bad qualities?” Yeonjun asks intrigued just when the main character of the horror film screams hysterically at the sight of yet another body, causing his heart to jump. He flinches at the sudden sound and instantly turns his back to the screen. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, who watches this kind of shit for fun?!”

You watch him scooting over and laugh at his attempts to avoid seeing the screen while doing so as the horrible scene unfolds on the large TV.

He positions next to you and now you're shoulder to shoulder.

“I still haven't gotten to them.”

“Don't waste your time,” he sighs, adjusting against the pillow, “I don't have any.”

“Don't be so sure about that.” You quickly respond, “I had to get back to work and then I forgot.”

“Because I don't have any.” He repeats after tittering. He finally dares to glance at the screen as it seems that the gory scene has passed.

“You get jealous pretty easily.” You state cautiously, wanting to shoot him a discreet look so bad, but you resist.

You also want to add, and pretty obviously, but you keep that detail for yourself as you remember how overprotective he was the other night at the birthday party you were invited to. It resulted into you getting asked the same question over and over again. Your friends were having a hard time believing you’re not dating.

Yeonjun remains silent for a moment as he tilts his head to see you. He leans in, just a little bit, to make your cheeks warm from the sudden closeness; to bring goosebumps across your skin from his mouth being close enough to your ear as he speaks through low voice.

“So it’s a bad thing that I don’t like sharing what’s mine?”

His gaze holds onto yours causing the fireworks into your stomach to ignite even harder. It’s like your heart stops for a second, and your brain as well, making the task to come up with a good answer on time challenging. It’s so obvious at this point that you’re taking too much time; too fumbled by the last word in his sentence. And especially by how much you like its presence there; how you’re already getting used to the sound of it in his voice.

Your lips part, not to speak, but to kiss him instead when another jumpscare makes him wince.

Too busy to hide his face into your chest, he only groans in despair, simultaneously pulling the blanket over your tangled bodies. One airy shit! slips from beneath it. The dramatic spine-chilling soundtrack overpowers the cussing, but you catch it nevertheless.

He sounds as if he's the one being tortured.

“Poor baby,” you tease him by cooing. “Is this too scary for you?”

He murmurs something about you shutting your mouth, but the anguish is making his frustrated words incoherent.

“How much left till the end?”

“Like an hour and a half,” you start running your fingertips through his dark hair as he adjusts even further into your arms. His head finds a comfortable spot onto your chest.

“I’ll just close my eyes for a little while…” his voice is slower than a moment ago, and you hum softly in agreement.

It’s almost like your familiar scent can lull him to sleep despite the scary movie playing in the background. He can feel his muscles loosen up, his mind relaxing with each peaceful breath you take.

Until the noise of a new jumpscare comes to frighten him again.

“I will add this in my cons list by the way.” You cackle.

Yeonjun’s brows furrow, but you can’t see his irritated eyes, because his face is hidden into your neck.

You can feel his warm breath caressing your skin once he speaks up.

“I know what will help me calm down.”

As the words slip lazily one by one from his lips, his hand slides down between your thighs. His fingertips feel the nice fabric of your little cotton shorts that seem too tight around your curves. They keep roaming around, rising your body temperature, until he guides them to your clothed clit, putting just enough pressure on it while his mouth nibbles on the skin of your neck.

“But… I want to finish the movie,” you whine softly before shutting your eyes at the thrill he’s causing you to feel kiss after kiss.

“You keep watching, baby.” His lips detach from your neck and curl up into a sinful smirk.

You centre your head again, watching him pull down your shorts as the screen behind him paints his silhouette in dark blue and purple hues, turning his features even more seductive.

Half of the fuzzy blanket is now almost on the ground as you keep your legs spread open. Yeonjun’s hand rubs in continuous circling motions that he synchronises with your breathing. Focusing entirely on your body helps him completely ignore the on going movie you keep watching with interest. He’s giving his full attention to your little squirming movements, to your rhythmical breathes, and to the erotic sounds that start escaping your mouth more frequently only to mix with the background noise in the room.

There are fresh bruises forming on your neck, but he continues to suck, making himself drool from how much he enjoys doing it. The only time he backs away is when he pushes two fingers inside you for the first time and he gets the urge to taste them, as it often happens when he’s pleasing you.

“Mmm, you always taste so good.” He humms after unwrapping his lips from his fingertips. His mouth has a red tint to it, glistening with moisture. “So fuckin’ wet for me, can you feel it?”

“Fuck, don’t stop—“ The only thing you’re able to say when he slips back into your arousal is to keep going. His fingers curl up perfectly, and aiming for the right spot they start thrusting in a steady pace causing your moans to shake. “Yeah, just like that... yeah—“

Yeonjun buries his face into the crook of your neck while starting to breathe more heavily too.

You keep closing and opening your heavy eyes at the screen where an intense moment is looming, filling the room with an intense instrumental music, but all he can register is the noises you keep losing control over. His hand flexes while increasing its speed in order to push you closer to the desired peak and it swiftly succeeds.

Your attention level drops and your head falls to one side with your eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

“Sounds so pretty,” he comments at your ear as the wet lewd noise keeps erupting with the nonstop slamming of his palm against your slick folds. Just the way you like it. “You’re close, doll.”

His fingers, stuck between your pulsing walls, get squished tighter as the seconds pass by. He keeps up the quick and smooth pacing until your breaking point comes in, forcing it to turn sloppy and rigid.

“Fuck, there you go,” Yeonjun’s chuckle rings out with a husky tone, only adding to the ecstatic effects of your intense climax.

Your whole body squirms as Yeonjun lets his fingers, wet and sticky, rest still on your throbbing clit. The fluids slowly spill out of you, forming a dark spot on the couch as the sensation turns more light and mellow, but he doesn’t mind it.

You’re still regaining your normal breathing when his fingertips start skidding rapidly along your soaked folds. You whimper at the unexpected contact with your clit that’s now extra sensitive, causing intense reactions from your body at even the smallest touch.

As he doesn’t show any signs of slowing down you whine his name, but without being able to utter any other word.

“Give me one more, baby.” He whispers, effortlessly sliding his fingers up and down your slickness in an indescribable way; so fast, so determined to receive more from you. “C’mon, doll.”

You pant uncontrollably under his tireless touch. The dancing of his fingers keep up the same energy, making you clench as they create another burning knot of pleasure in your core. Once it bursts, you’re not able to stay still and Yeonjun tries his best to keep his hand on your puffy lips so he can rub till the second orgasm washes over you.

Your legs tremble when he enters you with the same eager fingers, curious to feel how wet you are. The pool of arousal welcomes him with ease, and he cannot help but start fantasising how good it would feel to have his cock deep inside you right now. He can give it to you, but making you cum multiple times like this is just as exciting.

He notices your eyes are half-closed while gazing down between your thighs.

“Keep watching, sweetheart.” He says softly, but with a slight hint of demand which makes you look up on the instant. “You don’t want to miss anything from the movie, that’s why you’re here, right?”

He glides slowly through your tight walls and you both sense how they keep throbbing against him from lust and sensitivity. You take a deep shaky breath, trying to concentrate on the story line, but it’s so hard when he’s in the middle of building up a new wave of rush while hiding in the crook of your neck. Running his tongue over his own love marks now and then.

You bite your lip at the realisation of how much is still left from the movie that is about to become the reason your brain is going to turn completely numb and your pussy sore by the end of this Halloween night.

But the thing you will always associate it with first, from this day forward, is you officially becoming his.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[skelly-words]

Witch's Garden Part 2

A couple ppl asked for this, so I made it real quick bc i'm not finished with anything else yet. This au was already cursed but now it's worse.

Go read Part 1 if you haven't already <3

tags- smut, tentacles/vines, ovi->hatching, aphrodisiac so non-con too? the witch is futa

wc- 1.2k

No minors, 18+ ONLY

The eggs kept warm in your pussy hatch several days before The Witch even remembers you're stuck in the rosehip bush. She needs shears to get you out. Even then, some of the vines encircling you have grown too strong and she doesn't bother cutting them. It's not worth the effort to totally free you, so she trims just enough to check your pulse and pry your trembling legs apart.

You whine as she stops you from rubbing your thighs together. Her eyes feel hot. You know she's staring at you even though you can't see it. Each egg has hatched into a thin tentacle, ending in a pulsing rosebud. The seedlings stretched and thickened, growing unnaturally fast. She could see your poor pussy could barely take it.

The plant doesn't have to feed you its sugary nectar so forcefully anymore. You slurp it off a dripping blossom whenever your mind gets a little too clear. It hangs above your lips, waiting for you to loll your tongue out and suck it off again. You're looking up but can't see the ceiling of the greenhouse through the vegetation. The Witch hasn't cut the vines milking your tits either, conveniently letting them continue to pinch and suck at your stiff nipples.

She lifts your hips up to prop you up on her thighs. It's difficult for you to make proper words, but you moan and buck weakly until she touches you. Her finger gently circles your slick entrance and loops up to your clit in a lazy figure-eight. The muscles in your cunt spasms and your thighs try to clamp shut on her hand, but her shoulders keep you spread open.

She settles her thumb on your clit, swirling around the button. Her other hand begins to pull out one of the tentacles. The first of many. It doesn't come free easily. The vine squirms in her grip in an attempt to rip free from her fingers.

You groan as the bloom slips out of you and she tosses it onto your stomach. It leaves stickiness in its wake, wriggling down your abdomen to latch its petals onto your clit. Her fingers dip back into your pussy to ease out the next seedling. Your mouth hangs open in a gasp as the pulsing vine massages your walls. The bud feeding you nectar takes advantage and shoves past your lips. You don't resist or complain, glad that it muffles all your whining.

The second vine winds itself around the others. It's firmly stuck inside you, using the knot of the other twisting tentacles as an anchor. You can feel them shift and rub on your insides. One of the buds still inside you is gently suctioned to your g-spot and it's making you see stars. The witch's grip tightens and she sits back on her heels to get the thing out. You're so wet. Pussy drooling down to gloss your puckered hole.

"Fuck," she grunts and finally, the vine pops free. "I should've pulled these weeds earlier."

You can feel her cock beneath her robes, twitching in frustration against your lower back. It throbs when you arch your spine to grind on it, hoping to tempt her into taking it out. A deep groan crawls from her throat as her hips rut weakly. She barely moves, but you can feel as the girthy outline of her dick drags between your asscheeks.

The newly freed vine twirls itself around her wrist. It stays, cuffing her arm as she yanks on another. The blossom on your clitty suckles and tugs until it's swollen. It gives a couple throbs of warning then you're cumming. Cream drips out of you as your cunt spurts juice down your legs. The vine loudly squelches when it comes loose. Your gaping hole flutters as the sensitive edges squeeze nothing.

You're given a couple seconds to catch your breath. She tentatively swipes the rosebud through your slit. A translucent film of your slick coats the head as she guides it down. The thing thrashes in her grip, fighting to dive back into your sloppy pussy. She tosses it aside and resumes her task.

She pulls over a dozen of those slippery vines out. The discarded seedlings take turns sucking your clit or putting hickeys on your skin. A couple of them wander a bit low and nose at your fluttering asshole. You're already lubed up for the eager buds. They slip in easily once their syrup starts to ooze down your skin. You grind on her cock the whole time. All your mess has soaked through the layers of her robes.

There are only a few vines left inside you, tucked so deep in your cunny that her fingers can't reach. She shoves her middle finger as deep as it can go and tries to coax one out. None of the tendrils take the bait, staying tightly coiled against your cervix.

You can feel them in your guts, rearranging as she presses a palm into the flesh of your tummy. That's all it takes for you to cum, adding more glaze to your inner thighs. She drags a finger through the middle to give it a try. And you taste sickeningly sweet. Laced with the same aphrodisiac that the rosehips keep pumping into you.

It makes her unfold the front of her robes and rub her palm over her flushed tip. She's so close to the edge, leaking a river of pre-cum from her cockhead. Her bottom lip is tucked under her incisors to keep her moans in. She quickly lines up her fat tip and thrusts in. Your pussy is greedy, taking every aching inch as she pushes her hips flush to the backs of your thighs.

Her cock barely pulls out before she's bullying it deeper into your oversensitive pussy. The vines still stuck curl tightly around her dick. They spiral to form thick ridges up the length. One of the tendrils winds higher, slipping out of you, and chokes her heavy balls. Her angry cock rams into you over and over as the tightness keeps her from cumming. If she were to pull out now, the starter plants would be successfully removed, but there's not much she can think about besides getting off. The tentacles must be intent on torturing her. They stroke her swollen shaft as she pounds into you, but never let a drop of cum spill out.

"Please, please, please." You hear The Witch whine, words slurring together as her thrusts get rushed and sloppy. She's desperate for her release.

Your legs start to go numb from being thrown around her shoulders for so long. She doesn't let up, using you until the vine that's edging her decides to loosen. Her cock pulses inside you before bursting.

Warm sticky semen pours into you, squeezed from her spurting tip as her hips snap forward. The vines finish milking her dry, filling you up with her own seed. She refuses to pull her dick out, plugging her cum inside with the fat knot of vines cinched around her base.

She keeps you like that for what feels like hours. Your cunt weakly clenching around her the whole time. She'd beaten it into a puffy mess and your short orgasms shoot through you like electric shocks. Two small blooms still plug your ass, butt staying stuffed even as she starts to twist and ease her cock out. Her opalescent spend comes out in gushes each time your muscles tens. The new propogations have all been removed and she lets them play with your pussy and tits some more as she clears the remaining vines.

A/N- masterlist if you want more of my work <3

[sammyluvr]

breathe, baby — sam winchester

cw :gn!afab!reader, smut, no plot, fluff, brief mention of canon typical violence & demons at the beginning, making out, clothed grinding, fingering, swearing, pet names (baby, honey), praise, sam calls reader pretty/beautiful, light dom/sub dynamics in the later half (softdom!sam), allusions to oral (r!receiving) 4.1K words.

summary : after a close call on a hunt and a confession, you and sam have sweet, desperate sex. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI WITH MY NSFW CONTENT. YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED !!!

this is the second time that you find yourself gasping in sam’s arms in one night. just two hours ago, it was an unpleasant sensation; he held you close as you tried to catch your breath after nearly being choked into unconsciousness by a demon. the part where he held you close was not the unpleasant part. despite the fact that you were having difficulties breathing, you very much so savored the feeling of having him close.

but this… this isn’t just pleasant, it’s pleasure itself. you decide that there’s nothing finer than sam winchester kissing you. he kisses you so hard you can barely breathe, so hungrily that his nose scrunches up and his lips swallow yours and when you part, you’re gasping for breath.

“sam,” you pant out, his big nose still pressed against your cheek and the feeling of his tongue in your mouth lingering so strongly it’s almost buzzing.

“yeah? you okay?” he asks, his own voice just as breathless as yours. the large hand he has resting on the side of your face glides along your cheekbone, fingertips soothing against your skin and wide palm brushing past your ear. his touch dips, lightly ghosting over the bruises on your neck, but it doesn’t hurt, not with how soft he is.

“i’m good,” you assure him, still catching your breath, mind still reeling over the fact that you’re straddling his lap on a motel room bed and his big arm is wrapped around your waist. “really good. just… just wanted to tell you that i’m never gonna let you stop kissing me,” you murmur. his face is so close that you feel the movement of his lips stretching into a smile. he parts further from you, still cupping your cheek. he wants to look at you.

“yeah?” he asks again, voice pleased and tinged with this roughness that isn’t just lust. with sam, it’s always so much more. he’s smiling and his eyes are dark in the dim light of the room and you press a sweet kiss to his grin because you can’t resist it. he kisses back, only a little because he’s busy smiling.

“yeah,” you whisper, pulling away again so he can see that you’re smiling too. that gets him going. really everything about you gets him going, but to have you on his lap, your chest pushing him back into the headboard and your soft smile as you say sweet, almost sappy things? that’s more than enough to drive him crazy.

he wants to be gentle. so, very gentle, but he can’t help himself when both of his hands grab at the sides of your face and pull you back to him. it’s not like he’s rough by any stretch, but there’s a certain desperation thrumming through him, transerfing from his firmly placed palms and almost trembling fingertips to the warm skin of your cheeks. 

the force with which he kisses you pushes you backwards, and one hand flies from its spot on his waist to steady yourself on the mattress behind you. the small sound that escapes your throat is muffled by his greedy mouth, and he wants to hear more. all of your sighs and sweet sounds, thusfar quiet and somewhat controlled, have been driving him truly crazy.

almost regretfully, he allows one hand to slide down from your face to your waist, his hold there strong as he hoists you further up into his lap. he’s hard underneath you, and you moan at the feeling. your mind goes blank for a moment, long enough for him to attach his lips to the spot where your jaw curves up to your ear. you sigh aloud at that too, and sam is feeling very satisfied with your reactions; your lips staying parted and your eyes glazing over when you finally feel a semblance of just how big he is.

he gives your sensitive skin a little suck and your hands fist at the fabric of his white undershirt. he feels your knuckles against his side through the thin cotton, your grip pulling the fabric taut around his back. that’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going.

his tongue is just as greedy as his soft lips as it swipes over the skin of your neck, savoring your taste. the sweat and grime of the hunt had been washed off in the shower not too long ago, but your skin is just a little salty from getting all worked up in his lap. sam is utterly obsessed with that taste, his tongue flattening against your pulse point when you tip your head back to give him better access. the loud breath that you let out is halfway to a moan, and both of you are thinking about his tongue being somewhere else.

you push your hips into him at that thought and sam lets out a low groan at the pressure. now you’re feeling greedy. there’s no way you’ll survive without hearing more of him. you grind into him again and he grips your hips tight, letting out another gruff sound.

“shit, baby,” he groans, hot breath fanning against the skin of your neck. you huff at the sound of his voice, gone all husky and desperate. “what do you– what do you want here? you okay to keep going?” sam sounds like the only thing he’s doing right now is holding back.

“yes,” you gasp out, “god, yes.” you slip your hands all the way down his sides until you can grip the hem of his shirt. “can– can i?”

sam’s chest heaves at the sound of your voice, your sweet question, and the way that you look right into his eyes with such a caring, pleading gaze. he realizes that you’re being careful with him, just like he is with you, and he just has to kiss you for it. you kiss back without question, fingers still gripping his shirt. when he pulls away, he has to keep himself from ripping the shirt off himself, but he wants to see and feel you do it yourself.

“‘course you can,” he says, voice hushed. the small wait is more than worth it when your eyes turn excited and your hands fumble to pull the fabric up his sides. your knuckles brush against his bare skin and once you reach his chest, he lifts his arms and pulls it the rest of the way off. his hands are back on your hips in seconds, and you’re too busy raking your gaze over the exposed skin of his torso to see him swallow thickly as he takes in the way you look at him.

you completely forget that you planned to rip off your own shirt too, and instead lean forward to kiss his collarbone with a heavy fervor. his head tilts back a little as he sighs and you grab at his waist, thumbs eager and brushing against his warm skin. you kiss and lick and suck and sam moans for you. his fingers slip under your shirt and you welcome the sensation, kissing him harder in response.

you dip your head lower, hands beginning to roam, up his muscled arms, over his belly, somehow soft and toned all at once. your mind and body are at war. you want to keep kissing, getting lower, dragging your hands up and over his chest. but you want his hands to move, to feel you all over. then you suppose that you could certainly get both. you part from him for just a moment to pull your shirt off, your hands brushing against his as they hold your waist tight.

his jaw clenches and his eyes turn hungry as he watches you intently. you waste no time in taking off your bra too, watching his face as you do. his tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he sees your bare chest rising up and down and he holds back a pleased groan.

he raises his hand up and you think he’s going to touch you there, but he reaches for your face and brushes his knuckles over your cheek bone.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers. there’s a rasp to his voice, rough and sweet as he takes you in. your cheeks grow hot, but you bask in the praise anyway.

“and you’re fucking unreal, sam,” you say earnestly, voice equally as husky. he grunts and grabs at your sides, pulling you back into him and kissing your hard. his thumbs push a little into the plush of your breasts and his palms press into your ribs. you arch your back into him, pushing your chest against his and you feel his lip curl up against yours as a guttural sound forces its way out of his throat. a sigh of pleasure leaves your lips and you grind against him in earnest. his hips buck up into yours and the vague thought that he must be uncomfortable in those jeans floats through your mind.

he groans into your mouth and you just need him to touch you more. you pull away, chest heaving, hands roaming. on instinct, sam reaches further up, but at the last second he grips your shoulder instead.

“can i?” he chokes out. 

“yes,” you whine, nodding impatiently and sliding your hands up to his chest, asking for your own permission with your eyes. he catches the pause and look in your eyes and he feels all soft for you again. he leans in close, nuzzling his nose into your cheek and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth.

his voice is still hoarse, but loving too. “you can touch me wherever you want, honey. promise.” you swallow a moan and reciprocate his sweetness with a kiss to his cheek.

“you too, sam,” you huff. “promise i’ll tell you if i need you to stop, but please… don’t stop.”

“okay,” he breathes, “okay, i won’t. i won’t, baby.” with that, he just paws at you, taking and grasping and groaning when you brush your thumbs over his nipples. “shit,” he gasps, his nose still digging into the soft skin of your cheek. he reciprocates, flicking over your hard nipples with his big thumbs, pinching a little and making you whine into his mouth.

it all feels so good, but all you can think about is the ache between your legs. his bulge under your clothed core has you wet, and you need more. you need his fingers.

you dip your head and his lips meet the crown of your head as you squeeze the flesh over his ribs and gasp for breath.

“oh, god. sam, please, i need… more, please,” you croak, dropping your head all the way down to his shoulder and pressing a messy, open mouthed kiss to the skin where his shoulder meets his neck.

“okay, okay. i can give you more,” he whispers fervently, grabbing your hips and lifting you up. you follow his lead, scrambling off of his lap. “go ‘head, lay down, honey,” he urges softly, eyes dark and hungry. you heed his instructions eagerly, settling into the pillows behind you as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, just to ease the pressure. they hang loose on his hips and his black boxers show off his bulge even better. 

you’re about to ask him to just take his jeans all the way off when he carefully grabs your legs from under your knees and drops them open, stunning you into silence. he settles between your legs and slips his hands under the waistband of your sweatpants. he starts to tug at them and he doesn’t have to ask for you to lift your hips for him to shimmy your pants down your ass and onto your thighs. you lift your knees to your chest so that he doesn’t have to move down to get them off.

“so good for me,” he murmurs once they’re fully off, his big hand running down your thigh while the other keeps your knees tucked up. you groan a little at his words, at the sensation, and squirm without thinking. “shhh,” he hushes gently, “‘s okay, ‘m gonna help you out, sweetheart. can i take these off?” he asks, big fingertips playing with the hem of your panties.

you nod your head quickly. “please, yes.” you don’t think you could have him quickly enough.

with your permission, sam doesn’t waste any time. there’s no need for you to lift your hips; he just pushes your knees further into your chest with one hand and slips the waistband down. his knuckles brush against the skin of your ass and you think about how big his whole hand would feel there. but you choose to focus on the look on his face when he pulls your panties all the way down and lets your legs fall open around him.

his pupils are blown out and lips curved up in awe as he runs his hands up your thighs. when you shudder at his touch he applies light pressure, pushing your legs into the bed and humming, all pleased with your reactions.

“please, sam,” you whine, voice breathy and begging as you try your hardest not to squirm so much. but having him over you, his eyes just staring at your bare cunt and big, big hands gripping your upper thighs after more than just months of pining for him… it’s not easy to stay still or quiet or be able to think, really.

sam is holding back from looping his hands under your thighs, pulling you to him and just shoving his face against your pussy. it’s wet and shiny for him and just begging for attention and he needs to taste you more than anything in the world. but he wants what you want and he wants to be soft and careful about it all, for you.

“how do you want it, baby?” he asks hoarsly. under your breath, you swear softly, unbelieving that you’re so lucky to have him.

“y-your fingers, sam, please,” you whine out, eyes glued to the way they look over your thighs, digging lightly into the flesh. they’re so long and thick and you can’t even imagine how much better than your own. sam can’t even be disappointed that you didn’t ask for his mouth; the way he can so clearly see how much you want his fingers, how much you’ve thought about them, gets him going perfectly well enough. and there’s nothing stopping him from eating you out right after he’s made you cum on his fingers. that sounds like heaven.

“okay, honey,” he whispers, rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive skin right where your thighs melt into your outer lips and your eyebrows knit together in desperation. he can’t help himself when he drifts just one hand over your heat, ghosting your skin and making you shiver and moan. his fingertips brush over your lower tummy and the heel of his palm picks up a little of your slick. “so pretty,” he murmurs. you toss your head to the side and into the pillow and breathe heavy.

“please, sam, please,” you gasp, trying not to buck your hips up into his hand, but twitching up anyway.

“alright, alright,” he exhales softly, pressing his hand all the way over you and reveling in the way your eyes squeeze shut and your hips cant up, trying to add more pressure. he lifts his other hand to your hip and presses you back into the mattress gently. just that makes you moan softly. really, sam just wants to keep looking, feeling, exploring. he wants to put both thumbs on the sides of your outer lips and pull them apart and look and feel you shiver against him and tease up and down your slit. 

but he really wants to make you feel good, so he shifts his hand and starts rubbing your clit with two fingers gently. you sigh out, long and loud and pleasured. your hips move up into him again as your hands fly up to grip the pillow by your head. sam groans at the sight.

he dips his fingers lower for a quick second, gathering some of your wetness and rubbing it into your clit. you cry out this time, one hand loosening its grip on the pillow in favor of fumbling for the hand that sam still has pressing your hips down. he obliges happily, holding your hand against your hip bone and goddamn smiling at you.

the pressure builds quickly and you moan and whine and squirm for him, all while he looks at you with awe and love and determination.

“you’ve been so polite for me,” he notes, pleased. “always saying please without me even asking you to.” his tone is hushed and a little gravely before he leans down to place a kiss to your lower stomach. you hum out a sweet moan. “and you sound so lovely, so pretty, honey,” he murmurs.

you grip his hand and the fabric of the pillow and push your face into your upper arm, whining out at his words.

“sa-sam, please, baby,” you groan, “m-more, i need more, i want your fingers in me, please!”

sam grunts at your words. “fuck, you’re so good. asking for exactly what you want, using your words for me, god. i’ll give it to you, ‘f course, i’ll give it to you.” he’s got to be fucking obsessed with you. he starts with one finger, gently prodding at your entrance before easing it in.

“shit…” you moan, stretching the word out and letting your voice break in pleasure. “s-so good,” you mumble, gripping his hand even tighter.

“yeah?” he whispers, pulling his finger out just a little before pushing it back through your folds.

“a-ah! yes,” you pant out. “f-fuck, sam, i–,” you cut yourself off with another moan when he sets a steady pace, just his one finger working wonders. but you’re growing just a little desperate, so worked up and so fucking in love with him that it’s driving you crazy. “m-more, please,” you whine.

“okay, i got you,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb as he gently pushes in another finger.

“gahh– god!” you gasp. “shit, sammy. so good, that’s so good.” you writhe under him as he pumps his long fingers into your begging cunt, making such a lewd, wet sound. “a-ah, fuck! right there, sam. oh my god, right there,” you babble, hips pushing into his hand. it’s not as if no one’s ever hit your sweet spot before, but fuck, it’s different when it’s sam. everything’s different, better, more intense, when it’s sam. 

“yeah? right there?” he presses a kiss to closest place he can reach, bending down and catching the skin of your thigh between his lips. he’s more than just pleased that he’s found your sweet spot so quickly, and as he continues pushing the soft pads of his fingertips right against your gummy walls, he soaks it up, memorizinng it all. 

the way your moans change, your voice jumping in pitch and getting louder, they way you buck up into his hand and the way that you clench around him. and your face, god he could look at it all day, maybe cum in his pants just from seeing you like this. all desperate and needy and blissed out; pupils blown, eyebrows knit together, and mouth hanging open half of the time to let your pretty sounds out. or he gets to watch you snap your jaw shut, bite and lick at your bottom lip, hold a groan back only for your lips to part again to pant and gasp and moan. it’s almost like you forget how to breathe through your nose, and it makes you sound all the more worked up.

as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, he squeezes love into your hand, making you think about his palm against yours and somehow making it all more intense. his thumb rubs the back of your hand soothingly, such a stark contrast to the strength and fervor with which he fucks his fingers into you. 

“breathe, baby,” he reminds you sweetly. god, it’s hard to comply as you watch the muscles of his arm tensing as he pleases you, the veins of his hands and arms popping out with the rush of his blood. but you take in a long, deep breath and let it out. it shudders and ends in a whine, but your muscles relax for a moment and you melt a little into the mattress for just a moment.

“h-haahh, sam, i’m– mm, i’m close!” you whine, thighs tensing up again. you lift your knees and push your feet into the mattress on either side of his thighs, trying hard not to close your legs as the pleasure becomes so intense that you can’t keep still at all.

“fuck, that’s good. you gonna cum for me?” he asks, getting eager. he can’t wait to see you tip over the edge, to feel it. but he doesn’t get greedy, just in case this is the perfect pace for you. 

you answer his prayers in the form of a dirty moan. “huh-harder, please!”

sam is more than happy to oblige. he already knows that he loves to be soft with you. he loves to have his fingers stuffed up your pussy while he holds your hand and kisses your thigh sweetly. he loves to speak to you all gentle and loving and dirty too. but he does love the way you react when harder means just a little rougher, deeper, and faster. your jaw falls all the way open and you can’t close it. your eyes shut tight, then fly right back open because you don’t want to miss the sight of his fingers pumping into you like this. you don’t want to miss the way his face looks as he does it.

and it makes you loud. you’re used to keeping yourself quiet when you take care of yourself, but that’s not an option this time around. not with sam.

and of course, it makes you cum. it sends you reeling, keening, and it pulls his name from your mouth with a force that you’ve never felt before. and sam swears he’s gonna make you cry out his name like that every fucking day, if you’ll let him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, ahh– sam! feels s’good,” you slur. “sam…”

you clench around him so hard that it’s not necessarily easy to fuck you through it, but he does so good anyway. you shudder and pant and whine, and his name said again, all breathy and slurred is just as good as the first shout. and finally, you fall against the bed with a huff of breath, the sheets beneath you wet and messy.

you tense and whine when he pulls his fingers from you, and he’s quick to hush you gently.

“oh, you did so good, baby,” he murmurs, settling his still slick-covered hand on your hip and it makes you shiver just a little. he shuffles a bit closer to you, dropping his head down to kiss your sweet lips. you can barely kiss back when you’re so breathless, but you try, so he settles for sucking a little on your bottom lip and letting you sigh against his hot skin. your hand drops down from where it gripped the pillow, settling hungrily on his broad shoulder and running up and down the skin.

“felt so good,” you mumble against his lips, still blissed out. his smile interrupts the lazy kiss, and he feels greedy again. insatiable, really.

“will you let me make you feel good again?” he whispers, making sure you know that you can say no if it’s too much. it’s clear to him that you need to catch your breath, so he certainly won’t start right away. not until you ask him to.

“god, you’re too good to be true,” you say, wondering at him. “but i wanna make you feel good, too.”

he smiles wider, then kisses you again with a little more passion than the last. “trust me, honey. this’ll make me feel real good. i wanna taste you, so fucking bad, baby.”

you can’t help the groan that escapes your throat at his words. “yeah?” you ask breathlessly.

“uh-huh,” he nods, nose tickling the skin of your cheek. “you gonna let me make you cum on my tongue, honey?”

“fucking yes,” you pant, “yes, please, sam… make me cum on your tongue.” 

it doesn’t take long to learn; if you let him start, he’s never gonna be able to stop. he’s completely obsessed and in love with you, and you can expect his mouth on your pussy until the day he dies.