#number one in the hood g

[batzzetta]

Hi I forgot to post dis hehe🩷

[thedealersfiance]

why does this pic go so hard??? like damn frylock no one told you to pose like that…

[junipercastor]

my name is shake zula the mike rula the old schoola u wanna trip ill bring it to ya

[thedman0310]

Up in the crib watchin Assisted Living Dracula

[freiheitender903]

That moment when you can feel an old interest worming its way back into your brain alongside your current interest so now you have TWO worms in your brain?? Whaaat??

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Safe

~900 words

Gotham is dangerous. You know that. The whole world knows that. But that doesn't mean your job lets you go home before sunset. You didn't intend to be out so late, but your coworker had an emergency, and of course, no one else could come in. So, great, now you're walking Gothams streets when you should be warm in bed. At least your boss promised you overtime.

You're pulled from your thoughts at the sound of heavy footsteps behind you. It makes you tense, your fingers curl tighter around the pepper spray in your pocket. A quick glance in the window you pass revels a bulky, disgruntled, stumbling group of figures following you. Your throat tightens, and you walk a little quicker. You should have called Jason. Why didn't you call Jason? Usually, he walks you home if your shift is this late. Because it's a short walk. Because you can handle yourself, and he's busy, and you weren't supposed to be out tonight. You remind yourself, cursing silently. This is fine. You can handle yourself.

You count them as you pass the next window. One quickly turns into two. Then three. And then, your heart skips a beat as a fourth figure turns the corner in front of you. Okay, change of plans, cross the street and enter whatever rundown 24/7 shop is open.

That plan is quickly derailed when they start shouting at you, threatening you. Your steps slow, fear pooling in your gut as your mind races to find a way out of this situation. Your fingers slip against your phone, weighing calling GCPD.

Faster than you can process, a hand grabs your arm and tugs you into the alley, causing a strangled noise to leave your throat.

"Move." A heavily modulated voice. Rough leather gloves. A lingering gunpowder smell. Jason. No, not completely– He's Red Hood right now. A towering, intimidating mass of heavy weaponry and unyielding armor.

"C'mon." He pushes you along quickly, a steady hand guiding you by the small of your back into a shadowed hiding place in the alley.

You don't quite manage words, but the relief spreading through your body nearly brings tears to your eyes.

Jason crowds you against the wall, cool, sturdy armor, a shield between you and the dim light of the street. He tilts his head towards the entrance of the alley, listening as rough, slurring voices call for you. But they don't come closer, agitated by the loss of what seemed like easy prey and eventually fade. His helmet tips down to focus on you.

"Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, unable to form the words just yet.

He nods, slowly taking stock of you. "You're out late." The words coming out half questioning, half accusing but so, very gentle.

"Work– someone called out. No one else could take the shift."

"You should have called." He says evenly, voice softening as he takes in your shaky tone. He dips his head to rest his face place against your shoulder, and you're not quite sure who's more relieved that he's here.

"I know. I'm sorry. I should have listened." You say quickly, knowing full well what could have happened, what he sees every night when he spends his nights protecting Gothams streets. He always tells you to call if you need anything, but the idea of bothering him while he was saving lives? You couldn't bring yourself to dial his number.

"You did listen," he replies, soothing and silencing your worries as he nuzzles into your neck again. "That's what makes you so special. You listen to me. You follow my lead, right into safety. I don't even have to say anything and you trust me. You just do it. You're perfect."

Jason pauses for a moment and pulls back to trace his thumb over your jaw.

"You know that?"

His words send your heart into flutters and you hope, that even with his focus on you, always on you, he doesn't see the goosebumps forming under his touch.

"Shouldn't you, you know, go after them?" You ask after a moment, careful to change the topic from yourself.

He hums softly. "Batgirl's already on it. I'm walking you home."

"You don't have to do–" You start, gulit settling in your chest.

"I do. I want to. Let me?" He runs his thumb over your cheek, slow and almost reverent. The leather slides over your skin, the gesture so familiar it might as well be indented into your skin. You don't have it in you to read into what it means. But it soothes the guilt nonetheless.

You nod once, relenting. How could you deny him? It makes him smile beneath the helmet how easily you agree to him. For both your sakes, he needs to see you home safe.

He hesitates, glowing eyes of his mask studying you. He carefully steps out of the tiny hiding place he shielded you in, and if the adrenaline wasn't fading from your system, maybe you would have noticed the reluctance seeped into his movements. He offers you his hand.

You take it without a second thought.

He squeezes your fingers once and begins to guide you home. Gotham is still dangerous, dark and cold.

But Jason's there. And there's nowhere safer for you than with him.

[dms-saggicorn]

Love the rendering here

the aqua teens

[fanaticsnail]

I know dreaming of you are group works but I literally want one for katakuri sooo bad like, the GRIP this man has on me is insane

(I love him so much🍩❤)

(Ps.I'm sorry if this sounds like a demand I didn't mean it to❤)

Sweet anon, I have had a grapefruit flavoured soju and immediately began this as soon as I saw it in my ask box an hour ago. I hope you enjoy! (Don't worry, honey. I crave the big guy too).

Dreaming of you

Masterlist Here

Word count: 1,800+

SFW Part 2 Here

Synopsis: He couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in his dream. The way you writhed on his lap, cried his name and allowed him to please you had him wake to sticky blankets when he jolted upright. His thoughts got the better of him, and he was wracked with a new mission to seek out whether it was a possibility to see it become a reality.

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader x katakuri, fingering, nicknames, haki, dub con (Using your image to picture satisfying him in his fantasy), suggestive content, size difference, feelings, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Dreaming of You Masterlist Here, Please read the warnings. I normally do this in threes, but as soon as I saw the ask, I needed to know. Enjoy playing the part of Katakuri's fantasy. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Sat on his lap with your back on his chest, his middle digit gently began pistoning in soft beckoning motions into your glistening cunt. His face was coated in a soft glow of blush, his toothy grin tugging dotingly up his cheeks as he watched you cum on his hand through half-hooded lashes. 

Your legs shook as he slowly brushed against your g-spot, angling his large hand over your clit and grinding into it with his palm. Huffing and panting, your release gushed over his leather pants and coated them with another wave of your slick as he stretched your tight pussy with his large fingers. 

“Did you cum again for me, little mouse?” he cooed down at you, gently drawing his index finger over your chin and dragging the pad of his fingertips over your jaw. You looked up at him, the soft sheen of your dewy sweat coated your forehead and stuck the loose strands of your hair against your head. 

“I-I-...” you struggled to find the words, your head fuzzy and spiraling with the sheer number of times Katakuri had devoted to making you whimper, writhe and cream your desires over his fingers, lips and tongue. He offered you nothing but love in his hazel eyes, blinking slowly and angling his face down to smile at you in a soft gaze. 

“I know you did, sweet thing,” he affirmed, drawing soft patterns into your cheek and offering you a kiss on your glistening forehead, “I felt you flutter around me when you called my name. So pretty,” he complimented, rubbing his large cheek over your head and inhaling your perfume, “So sweet.”

You whimpered, drawing your hands up to his face and tugging at his jaw. Moaning and pleading with him, you pressed intentional and desperate kisses against his cheeks, lips, teeth and chin while confessing your desires. 

“I want to try again,” you called to him, imploring him to give into your demands, “Please can we try again? I promise I’ll behave and listen. I can do it this time, promise.” Katakuri groaned, his cheeks deepening with their soft flush as he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, your gummy walls contracting with aftershocks of pleasure as he did so.

“We can’t, you know this,” he attempted to relay to you, gently pressing on your shoulders and turning you in his lap, “I am over seventeen feet tall,” he gestured to his tattooed chest before gently caressing your shoulders, “You don’t even reach half that height. Where are you going to fit it-?”

“-I don’t care,” you reassured him and cut off his train of thought, pressing needy kisses against his chest, trailing lower to his belt buckle, “I’ll make it fit. I am determined to make it fit.” You tugged hard on his belt and released the metal clamp from the leathery holster, “I promise it’ll fit.” 

“It won’t fit,” he again argued, gently tugging at your shoulder with a soft nudge, “You can’t fit it in both of your hands, let alone anywhere else. It’s okay, I assure you,” he urged you to look up at him by drawing up your chin with his index and middle fingers, “It doesn’t make me love you any less.”

You grit your teeth, looking down at him and hardening your resolve. He smiled at your expression, adoring your soft pout and closing his eyes as he was sure he had convinced you to give up on your little mission. It was true, there was no natural way for him to slot himself within you without tearing open your abdomen and breaking your smaller body. 

As he closed his eyes, he felt something soft, wet and tight begin to descend onto his knob. He immediately snapped his eyes open, his eyes wide with shock as you took him within your pussy while wincing back the pain. 

“What are y-you-...?” he began, halting as he gasped at the sensation of your body choking his shaft with your tight pussy. His hands shook, his body ignited with lust and arguing with himself to tug your body away from him, while fighting the urge to buck up into you. 

“I-... I can do it,” you grit your teeth, your eyes clenching shut as you descend onto him inch by inch. Finally taking his large tip into your body, he could see the outline of his knob sheathed within you. Gritting his teeth, he balled his hands into fists and held them firmly at his sides. 

“D-Don’t,” he implored you, his breath hitching in his throat as you took more of him into yourself, “Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.” He begged, huffing and panting as he felt more of you descend onto his throbbing cock. His shaft twitched at the base involuntarily, prompting a cry to fall from his lips as they parted in shock. 

“I…” you growled at him, prompting his eyes to open at the tone of your cadence, “...can do this.” Your determination held something else in your eye, his own gaze meeting your steely determination as you took the final few inches of his shaft deep within you. He looked closer, noticing the tinge of red around your irises, the lightning veins of swirly command prompting him to fall his toothy jaw slack in shock.

“Armament haki?” he whispered at you, his gaze trickling over your naked form in shock and awe, “You’re-... nnnnhg-... you’re using armament haki in order to take my cock?” His voice stuttered as his resolve nearly crumbled in its cower. Your eyes darkened, your pussy fluttering around him as it contracted to endure his size.

“I am,” you confirmed with a curt, dangerous and feral nod, “And I can hold this armament haki for three minutes,” you splayed your fingers on his happy trail and bounced a little to ensure it was working. You looked up at him with a manic glint in your eye, his eyes trembling in shock as you uttered mischievously, “So you have about one minute forty five to use me the way you so desperately want to, sweetheart. Better get going.” 

Without much further warning, Katakuri spun you beneath him and began mercilessly bullying you with his exceptionally girthy cock. The indent of his shaft molded your body to fit his contour, the bulge in your abdomen protruding as he sheathed himself with every harsh thrust. 

He had never been with a partner, always fearing to tear them in half and break them the moment he gave into his desire. He wasn’t sure he would be able to hold out for the remaining minute and thirty seconds you had remaining of this armament, simply lost to all other thoughts than how perfect you felt wrapped around him. He huffed and panted your name, using you as his personal sleeve as he grasped your hips in a single hand beneath where you lay under him.

“I-I’m-... I’m-... I’m-...” he growled, feeling his release pool in his abdomen and tighten in the pit of his belly, “I’m gonna cum. I’m g-gonna cum.” 

“Cum in me, Katakuri,” you urged him, your body taking him effortlessly without a hint of pain or sorrow, “Claim me, make me yours. I’m yours. Only yours.” He pulled you into him further, harder, faster, stronger. His hips stapled you against the mattress as he felt the first twitches of his cock readying for erruption. 

“Hh-hah-... I’m c-cumming,” he sobbed, his teeth drawing down to nibble at your neck as he began to ride his high, “I’m cumming, I’m-... f-fuck-... I’m cumming.” He shot rope after rope of his pearlescent cum deep within your abdomen, immediately splashing back and coating the base of his shaft and balls with each hefty wave of sticky release. 

Huffing and panting, he continued riding through his high, his bucking, tugging and grinding continuing to have him sob your name as he finally experienced the unity between the two of you. He felt relief and bittersweet sorrow eclipse his being the moment his ecstasy ceased, looking down at you with awe and amazement. 

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing a sweet kiss on your forehead as he felt the final spurts of his pent up release brush into your body and splash back onto his own. As he darted his eyes between yours, your image dissipated into a cloud of vapor and his eyes widened in shock. 

He shook his head, reopening his eyes and noticing his room was without luminance and dark in comparison to the soft, smoky glow it was lit with moments before. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, he looked down at himself and noticed another duvet ruined by his midnight muse. He growled at himself, his jaws clenching tightly shut as he came to terms with everything he dreaded. 

It was another dream. 

Another dream about you.

When he met you and the rest of the Straw-Hat crew back at Cake Island for the wedding between his sister and the Vinsmoke boy, he was immediately captivated by you. You had a fiery temper, a need to care for your crew, and compassion for your enemies by heeding a code of conduct while you battled. 

You hurt his sister, Brulee, by engaging her in combat. Something he was going to ensure you paid for with interest the moment he had an opportunity to do so. As she was harmed a little more than you potentially intended, you halted the combat to ensure she was truly okay. Your need to ensure she had an ‘out’ from the fight, to offer her a swift execution or an honorable understanding if she stood down had him immediately smitten with you. 

The minister of flour was in love with you, something he didn’t anticipate ever feeling for an individual. And this was the twelfth time this month he had dreamt of you. His dreams started with him engaging you in battle for you to halt it and offer him peace in the form of a donut. As the dreams became more intense, he pictured himself revealing his face to you and having you accept him for who he was. 

This was the first time he had ever pictured himself fucking you. He had always ever pleasured you in his dreams, never seeking satisfaction for himself due to the sheer impossibility of it. You were small, he was tall: there was nothing he could do to change that fact. 

Nothing, until his dreams offered him this solution. 

He immediately began cleaning up after his night visit, reaching for his tissue box beside his bed and tidying the glubs of his release over his abdomen, deflating shaft, and bedsheets beneath him. Getting up from his reline, he headed over to his desk and pulled out a small collection of information regarding armament haki. Sifting through the pages, he thought this time he had finally found the solution. 

This time, he could finally find a way to experience what he had denied himself for so long. 

He could only hope that you were not only able to wield armament haki, but that you could consider the possibility to engage yourself with him in a relationship. He loved you from afar, using his sister’s ability to check in with you from time to time after the battle. You seemed friendly enough with them both whenever they checked in, perhaps you could see yourself with someone like him.

His hope would come soon enough, his sister's face split up in a large smile as she spoke with you on a den-den snail. You were aboard the Thousand Sunny and sailing with your captain towards Elegia to see Uta's concert. Inviting Brulee to join you at the venue, to sing along to Uta's music with her, was potentially his way to confess his love for you once the festivities concluded.

[sassycheesecake]

MEET AND GREET DAY 1:

#13, Setter Atsumu Miya of the MSBY Black Jackals

Man’s flirtin' with ya nonstop

The moment you step up to the M&G, it’s like the heavens have send him an angel

Usually Atsumu has a problem with shutting his mouth, but when he saw you, he was lost for words

He calls you lots of nicknames and you’re almost a melting puddle at hearing his Kansai dialect in person

Atsumu keeps giving you this look with his hooded eyes, along with his lazy smirk(YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHICH ONE I MEAN)

Of course, Atsumu’s teammates are used to his flirty nature with some people, they know it’s a show he puts on in front of the world

A cocky, arrogant and overconfident bastard can actually be a funny, loving and protective person in private

They watch with high interest from the sidelines, because the usual confident smartass is actually nervous and gives out an honest smile, not the usual fake ones he uses with the press

But they obviously wouldn’t be teammates if they don’t tease each other once in a while

"Tsum-Tsum it’s been almost 15 minutes since the game, why is your face still so red?" Bokuto’s comment turns Atsumu’s face a couple more shades red and the Setter wishes to sink into the next hole in the ground

ANYWHO

With one unfortunately not too long lasting hug, you say your goodbyes and without your knowing, the sandy-blonde Setter looks longingly after you, like he just said goodbye to his lover

It’s like almost there was a voice inside his head, telling him to run after you

Get a full name, a number, an email, anything he can get so he can contact you

So when the Setter runs after you, ignoring the staff team’s shouts and yelling, he still can see the back of your outfit and he calls after you

Hearing your name being called out in a deep familiar voice, you turn around and find the sandy-blonde Setter halting to a stop right in front of you

Atsumu rambles on about feeling his heart beat faster whenever you speak or look at him and the sandy-blonde has never felt this way before

After a bashful goodbye and an exchange of numbers, the two of you part ways with exciting smiles on your faces

As soon as the blonde twin enters the locker room, he can’t contain his excitement anymore

"Guess who just got himself a number by a gorgeous fan!" 😍😍 Atsumu is so happy he could shout it from the stadium’s rooftops

Despite getting a good chewing out by his captain, coach and PR team, Atsumu doesn’t hesitate to contact you that same night, asking you out on a date ❤️

[tmwcs]

Little Red Riding Hood - Finale.

Pairings: Jake and fem!y/n

Warnings: Werewolf Jake (should already tell you). Knotting, noncon/subcon smut, cnc (both rough and light), oral (fem receiving), smut, breeding kink, detailed smut, hints of murder, kidnapping yandere love.

Authors note: here we go part two (finale) of RRH. Again this is not proofread but I don’t think that matters. Enjoy!

Taglist: @strxwbloody @nshmrarki @aquariushiiiii @addictedtohobi @nuriicata @lilyuwon

You dropped the picture and quickly made your way back to the car. The driver was still nowhere in sight, which may have been in your favor considering the evidence discovered. You quickly turn the car around, figuring the best and quickest way to notify the authorities was to head back. Pulling up, you park the car in the driveway and rush inside. You picked up the phone and dialed the police, but the line was silent. You frantically dialed a series of numbers before slamming the phone back down. You rushed to the nearest neighbor and knocked on the door and carried over to the windows once you realized that no one was home. House to house, you knocked on every door in sight and still, no one was around–the entire neighborhood was empty. The moment seized you as you realized you were all alone. Discomfort rid you of all your calmness and you run back inside your grandmother's house, praying that she would return any second. You went up the stairs and tried the telephone in the master bedroom, but the line remained dead. “Shit!”

Your tenacity takes over as you continue to try dialing a series of phone numbers hoping that one of them would go through. Just as you were re-dialing your parents home phone, a creak from behind bolts a shiver down your spine. The door behind was opening. Your breaths begin to shutter as the realization hit that you were not alone inside the house. You froze—unable to turn as the rhythm of fear and anxiety stills you. You couldn’t even say a word or scream at this point.

You remained still. Too frightened to even be curious as to who was behind staring at you. “G-grandma?” You trembled, hoping to high hopes that you would get a response in her voice.

Slowly, you pivot on the heel of your foot and simultaneously lower the phone as you come face to face with the man across the room. Somehow, you were in disbelief even with him staring directly at you. Tears begin to form as you feel all sense of hopelessness. You frown hysterically as you watched a smirk appear on that handsome face. “J-Jake?—Wha-what are you doing here?”

A thousand questions riddle in your brain. A few teardrops turned into a river flow of sobs as you bestowed a pleading countenance. The blood curdling scream didn’t escape past your pursed lips until you dropped the phone, which is when he decided to strike at you. His movements were fast—too fast. He moved like a flash of light. Despite his rough handling, you got the hint that he didn’t have any intentions in hurting you—at least not that you could see for now. He shoved you over the old console table that was stationed in front of the large floor mirror propped in the corner of the room. “My poor girl. He gave you such a hard time, didn’t he?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion as he pinned your toned against the flat surface of the table. You turn your head to look back, expressing your bewildered state. You couldn’t even speak. The smile that permanently etched his face caught you off guard as he grinds his pelvis against your rear end. “Don’t worry. Daddy took care of him.”

You panic as you hear his words echo against the bedroom walls. Immediately, you realize his unlawful intentions as he shoves himself against you, reaching around touching you. “S-stop!”

He chuckles at your demand and sucks in your neck. “Tasty. You smell good too.” His leathered gloved hands trail upward and tugs on your dress, ripping it with ease. “Stop! Don’t!”

Reaching around your face, he cups your jaw and turns your face towards his. “You don’t really want me to stop, do you?”

Whether it was that smooth voice or his handsome gaze, somehow you lost your composure to express your displeasure. You froze, and so did your voice. He chuckles once more before sealing your lips in a deep and tender kiss. Breaking contact, his skin brushes against you as he whispers, “nah, didn’t think so.”

The tearing of whatever remained from your dress had you crying, yet his touch and kisses made you moan. You were conflicted between fear, despair, and pleasure. The more he kept doing, the more it had put you in turmoil. Especially when he kept huffing under his breath, telling you things that made your mind travel in circles.

Fuck, you smell so good. Your skin is so smooth. You’re mine. All fucking mine.

By the time he had you completely stripped, with only the small bit of tatters loosely draping your body, you caved in. The way his fingers moved and delicately tapped against your clit made you see stars. He was so good at it, no one could possibly blame you for how you reacted. “Yeah, baby? You fucking like that, hmm? Want me to eat you?” He whispers vigorously against your ear, further causing you to spiral downhill. “My pretty Red Riding Hood…let me take care of you. Fuck. Let me own you.”

Keeping his palm flat against your lower back, he presses down and stabilizes you. You remained still, knowing by his grip and aura that any movement would only result in chaos. Also, you found yourself not wanting to admit it, but you didn’t want to. With the way the tip of his nose trails down your spine and along the curve of your derrière, you found yourself craving more. The moment his nose grazed over your plush lips and exposed clit, your fingernails dig into the table. Your moans grow louder as he presses your cheeks together, keeping your thighs closed before he starts flickering his tongue at your womanhood. “Mmph! Stop! Fuck! Please stop!” You help out. Pleasure hits you like a bolt of lightning as you remain in denial. He doesn’t entertain in responding, instead he continues to emit long strokes of his tongue. The flat surface completely wipes you clean of your juices as he slowly licks from top to bottom, finishing off each swipe with the tip of it playfully digging into your nub. He did it so tenderly and smoothly, it was painful. “P-please!” You help as you slam your hands against the wood surface, yearning for more as he edges you on. The moment that caused your eyes to roll back was when he shoved his nose and mouth against the warm center and snarls. Chuckling deeply against your vulnerable spot made you feel things you never knew existed. “Oh! Oh my God! What are you doing to me—“

He chuckles once more, this time it nearly made you lose balance as your legs trembled. You found it hard to stand even with the support of the table under you. “Please—“

He snarls against your clit once more. “Yeah pretty girl?” His tongue pelts against your clit numerous times. In between he whispers in that accent of his. “Tell me you’ll be mine. Tell me you’ll be loyal.” He finishes off each demand with a squeezing kiss on your wet clit. Your breath hitches as you choke out each moan. “Hmm?” He mumbles while sucking on to your womanhood. Giving in, you nod hysterically as the tear drops fall before you, decorating the mahogany finish.

The sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper coming undone, and his shirt being discarded had your heartbeat come to a pause. Half naked, his trousers loosely remain on as he brings out the gift of his build. You didn’t see it, even looking at the mirror in front. But the way he dragged it against the lining of your vaginal opening made you well aware that he was large. The tip alone was wider than your wrist. You shivered under his palm as you felt him breaching your entry. “Shh-sh-sh-shh.”

His shushing does nothing to clam you. The second he pokes in, you squirmed with regret. You shout out of how you changed your mind and that you wanted him to stop, but he pays no mind and keeps entering. The friction alone was enough to cause you to faint, but when he found himself half way in he scoffs. “Almost there.”

Your eyes enlarge. How could he still have more length to push in? There was no way you would be able to survive, he was already so deep. You try to push back and do everything you could to escape, but it was no use. With him hunched over your backside, pinning your wrists to the table, he coos you by whispering into your ear as you were forced to take in inch after inch. Finally, with the tip felt in the deepest part of you, he calmly stroked your hair as he guides you to breathe. You pant under the pressure of being stretched and torn open, yet he continues to be calm despite how tight your walls hugged him. “Breathe baby, breathe. That’s it. Aww…that’s my girl.”

You do exactly as he instructed, feeling some sort of relief as he begins to pull out. Yet when he has all but the tip nestled inside you, he jams it back in mercilessly. You scream out as your head jolts up. He keeps you steady as he pinches his grip against your waist and holds you in place as he makes you take in every single thrust. His hips move back and forth, stalling into you. Skin on skin, the slapping movements echo in the room, doing something to your mind as the thought of him doing the most unspeakable matches with the rhythm. It sends a tingle to your core and before you know it, your body responds by aiding him in his resolve. “Yeah that’s it. Get wet for me baby. Makes it easier for me to fuck you.”

He goes in deeper with each thrust, punching a soft spot that causes you to gush. It coats his lengthy muscle, making it more slick as he finds it easier to fuck into you. You pant and moan in satisfaction, yearning for more as he shoved the combined efforts of sweat and squalene back inside you, mixed with his precum. His pace picks up faster and faster, when suddenly he pauses as he buries his cock deep inside. You look up in the mirror, shaking and pitifully murmuring out with a pleading tone. “P-please…not inside…”

His eyes shift from admiring your derrière to staring back at you through the mirror. He laughs handsomely as he notes how beautiful you look in your disheveled state, all within his grasp. “That’s not how this works, pretty girl. I told you…”

He stretches his neck from left to right, squinting his eyes shut as he expresses relief. “You’re mine.” His voice became deeper. His grip becomes tighter. There was shallow wind breezing through yet the windows remained closed. The curtain was open, revealing a full moon that shined against your skin. Dripping from his mouth, large amount of drool stains your backside as you watched through the mirror. Something unruly was happening. Something abominable.

You tried to move away and release yourself from his grasp but the pain of his claws digging into you restrains you. They grew longer and his hair grew shaggy. His face morphs into something unreal as you watched in horror of the final product. He was jet black all around with ears that resembled the devil's horns. They were propped and sitting atop his large head, which resembled a wolf. His stature maintained a humanoid structure, defined by lean muscles and a combination of soft fur and smooth skin. You wiggle in pain as you feel his throbbing member swelling inside you. “Ah! Stop! Let go! What’s happening!?”

A clawed hand shoots up and around, covering your mouth. He suppresses your screams as he begins thrusting. This time, he truly was tearing into you as the shaft became terribly swollen and thick. His tip was even thicker. He picks up the pace and hits your spot multiple times, and your body betrays you once more as you felt yourself gaining pleasure mixed with pain each time he pushes into you. Your screams become prolonged moans as you watched the creature pelt into you from behind through the grand mirror. His eyes never breaking eye contact with you.

He keeps going, compelled to destroy your walls as he squelches his massive length inside. You reach up and pitifully latch onto the monstrous hand that covers your moans. He keeps his hold, gaining leverage as he forces you to raise your head, arch your back, and prop your perky rear in the air—allowing him more access to breed you. You find yourself conflicted once more as the feeling of getting fucked into oblivion takes over and eradicates your better judgement. This monster—this creature…it’s not human. Nothing about him is. Yet you found yourself wanting him to keep going and to do more. You wanted him to do it over and over again.

Watching the creature thrusting into you with the thought of him giving it to you forever sent a burning sense of desire in your core. Your nerves heat up and your muscles tightened. Your womanhood becomes more lubricated each time he thrusts inside and suddenly you yelp out a high pitched moan into his palm as you feel yourself coming undone. With your walls pulsating against his cock, he picks up the pace and goes even faster. The sound of his inhuman form slapping against you only made things more intense as you felt yourself creaming around his circumference. At the very bitter end of your orgasm, you hazily watched under half closed lids as the monster buries himself deep inside you one final time and howls at the full moon. He was cumming inside you.

Panting ferociously with animalistic tendencies, he loosens his stance and leans over you, resting his weight against your backside. He was heavy and dense, but he made sure to not completely release his massive size on you, avoiding breaking your spine. He growls and pants against your ear. Despite being so primitive, his clawed hands cradle over yours as he sniffs and licks your ear. You shutter at the act as it felt no different than a dog. Still, his humanness shows through as he rubs his thumbs over the back of each hand, comforting you. You attempted to move but found yourself stuck. You’re not sure if you were entirely confused, pleased, or mortified, or maybe all of the above. He was swollen and stuck inside you. You couldn’t pull him away.

You realized that the act of breeding-tie was being conducted as his cock continued to deep out his cum deep inside you, swelling itself to remain in to ensure successful breeding. Perhaps it was giving up the fight, but realizing what he was doing didn’t cause you to cry or become mortified. Instead, you laid calmly and continued to take on the beast's pants against your skin. Is this what giving up felt like?

The breeding tie lasted for hours. Finally, after he had returned to his human form, the beast—or rather, Jake, took his clothes and quickly dressed himself. He took your grandmother's sheet and adorned you as if you were a goddess. With inhuman strength, he carried your limp body and stowed you in the backseat of his car. You heard the doors secure as he starts the ignition. You were so tired and lifeless—so work out from the unspeakable act carried out earlier, you didn’t have the energy to even speak. All you could do was look up and watch through the window, the glorious full moon peering form the night sky as he drives off. Occasionally, he reached behind his seat, gently caressing your face. With a soft chuckle, he would whisper “all mine.”

……..

“Where are you going sweetheart?”

You snap your head back, flashing a subtle smile. “Hm? Oh–i’m just going to this interview about the job at the local library. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

Your dad raises a brow and takes a side glance over at the clock. “This late?”

“Mmhmm.” you respond as you slip on your shoe. “The interviewers gave out time slots, mine is at 4 pm.”

Your dad sighs. Reaching into his pocket, you hear the jingling of the key ring as he tosses them your way. “Take my car.”

You chuckle aloud. “Dad, I’ll be fine. I don’t want to worry about parking.” You attempt to return the keys back, but his insisting tone becomes more assertive as he explains about the recent happenings circulating the media reports. “Take my car–the library is ten miles out. I don't want you taking an uber either.” he looks at you sternly as he pushes your hand away, prohibiting you from giving back the key ring. “You know they still haven’t found that girl, right? The one who disappeared on her way to her grandmother’s house.”

You nod in response. “Yeah I know.”

He gingerly cups your cheek and softens his tone. “Take my car, it will put my mind at ease.”

You smile and nod. “Okay. thank you daddy.”

He wishes you luck as you exit the door. You set the address in the gps and maneuvered out of the long driveway and headed towards the main road, when suddenly your gps pops a notification, alerting you of traffic congesting the main road. Seeing that it would cause a delay, you decided to not risk missing out on the interview. You accept the recommended shortcut and follow the path which takes you on the backroad. Taking it easy, you maintain moderate speed. The overcrowding bush of trees surrounding the road accentuated the narrowness of the road, causing a slight sensation of uneasiness in your chest. At first you figured that you’d soon pierce through to the other side of town, when a heavy fog sets, thick enough to blot out the sunlight. You kept up with the route, figuring it would be best to turn around. Yet the absence of alternative pathways prevented you from doing so. The road became too small for you to do a u-turn without the risk of backing into the ditch that railed both sides of the route. Sticking to the route, you hoped that you would see light, or some other form of manmade feature. However, the deeper you went in, the more you felt yourself going away from modern civilization. There was no farmland, no street lights, buildings or houses–not even a single street sign.

The beeping from the dashboard notifies you of low gas. “Shit!” you whisper under your breath. You could have sworn that the tank was half full when you pulled out of the driveway. Checking your phone, you also noticed that your battery was at low percentage–too low. “What the hell?”

Strange, considering you were sure that the bar read at least forty percent when you left the house. You start to panic as you push through, when finally you see some lighting at a distance. “Oh my God! Finally.”

You pull up at the grand estate. The iron fence was tall and elegantly decorated by the blushing rose vine that was in full bloom. Fortunately the fence remained partially opened– looked to be by accident. Normally you knew better than to trespass so rudely, however, given the circumstance, this constituted an emergency. With no gas and a phone on the verge of dying, you needed help. Perhaps the owners would be understanding.

Your breath pauses as you pull further in and notice the enormous structure of the estate. It could hardly be called a mansion, considering that it resembled the palace of Versailles–both in size and aesthetic appeal. The gardens surrounding were well kept and the statues were pristine. “Wow…” you breathed out as you drove the car up to the front.

You walk up to the large entrance. Could someone possibly live here? You hoped that someone was inside, considering that this looked to be more of an establishment versus a home. The dim lighting gleaming through one of the windows up on what appeared to be the third floor gave you some hope. There wasn’t a doorbell, so you hoped that it was too intruding for using the heavy iron door knocker. It was large, and quite heavy, but you managed to admit three knocks as quietly and gently as possible. A few minutes went by and you wondered if it would be rude to admit three more, when suddenly the latch on the door begins to turn and the clicking sparks your relief.

You watch as the door opens and reveals an older gentleman, dressed elegantly in a suit with no jacket. Just a silk vest with a white button up paired with well pressed trousers. His shoes were of fine leather and shined without any blemish, and his hair neatly combed. “May I help you?”

You gulped at the tranquil tempo of his words as he spoke in a calm voice. “Um yes–I’m sorry to bother but I was wondering if you had a telephone I may use? My car ran out of gas and my phone is out of battery. I also seem to be lost.”

The gentleman, who appeared to be a butler of the estate, raised a brow as he darted his eyes between you and the car. “How did you manage to get here? You must be so far from home.” he questions, developing a concerned look as he waits for you to answer. You were confused, seeing as how you were only on the road for about twenty minutes, not at all too far from your parents house. “No, I live in town. I took a shortcut due to traffic.”

The elder man nodded. “I see.” He lets you in, and paves the way with his steady hand as he displays such courteous manners of respect and elegance. “Come in, please. I’m afraid we do not have a telephone, but you may stay a while to charge your cell-u-lar phone.”

It was no guess as to why this house wouldn’t have a telephone. At first it confused you, yet by the way he nearly spelled out the word “cellular”. If the owners were anything like this man, they were farther away from modernization than you could imagine. At least you were smart enough to have a charger and charging block with you. “Thank you.” you respond.

“Come with me, I’ll take you to a room where you can unwind and charge your phone. I’ll have madam bring you some tea.”

You thank the man. You felt overwhelmed by the sensational service he was providing, considering you weren’t an official guest. Following close by, you admired the grand features of the home. It was incredible. The architecture design was heavy on the traditional European taste, expressing the delicacy of mirrors, gold trimmings, crystal chandeliers, and arched hallways. The floor was made of glossy tile that was adorned by a fresh velvet rug that trailed the entire length of each area. You wanted to inquire more about the place but figured it would be too impeding since you were already intruding unannounced.

He halts abruptly, causing you to nearly bump into him. You were about to ask if everything was alright considering you both stood in the middle of the hallway. “Before we venture further, I must ask you to be as quiet as you can. My master is taking his nap, he must not be woken up. He gets…cranky.”

You chuckle softly, assuming the butler was referring to a child. “I understand. I know how children can be.” you spoke out presumptuously. The butler merely nodded and continued to lead you to a study. It was beautifully lavished with dark mahogany and velvet green accents with leather furnishings. A balcony presented black french doors that remained open to let the warm breeze in. “Wow…” you breathed out.

“There are outlets on each wall, you may use any one you like. Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable, madam will be in with some tea for you. Is there anything else you may need?”

You shake your head. “Oh no–thank you! You’re very nice. I will be fine, as soon as I am able to get a hold of my father I’ll be leaving. I am so sorry to bother you.” He remarks your gratitude with a small smirk. “It is not bothersome at all. It’s been many years since this household has received any guests, your presence is most welcome. Please let me know if there is anything else I can assist you with, and please remember…” he gently opens the door and looks back “about my master.”

You nod and assure that you will refrain from making any noise, and watch as the butler takes his leave.

Your phone starts to charge and you take a moment to look around the study. It was huge. Larger than most living rooms that you would find in common households, or even luxury ones. No doubt about it, this building puts the lifestyle of the rich and famous to shame. As you admired the beautiful wall trimming, you noticed a portrait on the next wall, mounted near the corner and across the magnificent desk. The large photo caught your eye as you closely admire the handsome man featured. Dressed well with beautiful auburn hair, his asiatic features stare deep into your soul as you breathe out. You’re not sure if you ever saw someone more attractive in your life. Since it was only a portrait, you wondered the effect this man would have had you met him in person, considering the photo alone was enough to make you weak in the knees.

You become lost in translation as you continue to stare at the framed piece when suddenly your phone rings loudly. “Shit!” you panicked as you raced across the room to shut off the ringing feature, completely forgetting that it was not on vibrate. It was your father calling. Afraid that the noise of your ringtone had awakened the baby, you answered and spoke quietly into the phone, cautiously looking at the door in hopes that the butler wouldn’t return upset over you waking his “master”.

“Hello? Daddy?” you answer and speak as quietly as you could, partially whispering as you cup around your mouth. Nothing but static on the other end. You peel your face away and look at the screen, only to find that there was no service. There was also no wifi. Great.

The visit to this luxury estate was a waste of time, and you tried to figure out the next step. Perhaps the butler has gas in one of the vehicles? Or maybe he can give you a ride to town?

You played around with your phone, waiting for the butler to return and seeking out a resolve to this predicament, when suddenly the corner of your eye catches on to something bright. It was warm and lightened the entire room. “What….what's that?” your tone expressed an enchanted curiosity as you leaned head in first, taking in the sight of a pedestal table with a large glass bell jar stationed at the center. It looked like a rose. The petals were made of fine crystal, appearing almost like large diamonds as they reflect a blush pink color, while the stem was made of pure gold and piqued its appeal. It dazzled, despite having no outside light to aid its glow.

Distracted by the lonesome ornament, you stood in awe. The bedazzling item had you in a hypnotic state that you remained unaware of the horned beast that lurked from the dark corner, admiring your gaze and posture. Another pretty treasure for him to keep inside a bell jar, or so it would appear. But this story will have to wait, for it is a tale as old as time…

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 7

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Read on AO3

CW: Smut, 18+/MDNI, CMNF (clothed male naked female), continued hamstring stretches (advised by the appropriate medical professional), praise, kissing, manual stimulation/fingering, touching under clothes, explicit consent, dirty talk

The noise you make would be embarrassing if you couldn’t feel the effect it has on him, see the way his pupils almost swallow his irises. With your calves over one shoulder, he pulls your underwear clear. You expect him to toss them aside, but instead, he places them down gently next to your hip.

Then, he parts your legs to let the left one fall back to drape over his leg. Your your face gets hot when you hear how wet you are. Simon makes an interested noise, getting your left leg back into position as he pets lightly over the hair you’d thankfully groomed before your trip. His thumb dips down to just barely brush over the hood of your clit.

“Already so wet f’ me,” he rumbles. “Set your hips. Good girl.” As he straightens your leg, he shifts his own hips and makes room for his hand between you. The breath hisses out of him when his fingers slide across where you’re wet and wanting. “Fuck. Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you whimper, resisting the urge to roll your hips into the barely there touch. “Green. Green, Simon, please, I want it.”

He doesn’t make you ask again, just lets a thick finger sink in ever so slowly. His thumb rubs soft and slow, using your wetness to glide gently over your clit. You try not to moan too loudly, to hear the way he huffs into the side of your calf. For once, he’s not staring at you. Instead, his eyes are closed, breaths shallow as his finger pulses inside of you, almost metronome steady.

The heat that’s been pooling in your belly spills into the rest of your body. You can’t help but squeeze around him, once. He’s so gentle that you can feel yourself soften and open for him, until the friction is nothing but the shivery, slow ascent toward your peak. You don’t resist the urge to tip your head back with a soft sound.

After a few long moments, you flutter your eyes open. When you look at Simon, you notice the slightest tremble in his shoulders. His head is tipped down, but you can see tension in his neck, though there’s only the lightest pressure where his temple meets the leg that is still over his shoulder.

You touch the top of his thigh, surprised by how rigid he’s holding himself. “Simon?”

“Mm?” His voice is just as soft as his muscles aren’t.

Your voice comes out just as quiet. “You okay?”

The hum he gives you is noncommittal. But he keeps petting you inside and out, steady and distracting. Three fingers on his other hand tap two times. He needs some time to think, to center himself.

Did you do something to upset him? You try to sit up to speak to him. Before you can get an elbow under yourself, he squeezes his fingers toward each other, a sudden, staggering pressure that makes you fall back with a yelp. You try to twist away, but as gentle as he is, you can’t break his hold on your leg - or between your legs.

“Settle,” he rumbles, pinning you with a heated look from beneath his lashes. He starts petting over your raised thigh. “’M okay, Bambi. Ready?”

You almost say yes. Your whole body wants nothing more but to melt into him. But… “A-are you sure?”

“’F course,” His whole face softens when he smiles. “Mos’ beautiful woman in the world ‘s in bed wi’ me. Tryin’ no’ to mess my pants like a green boy.”

You end up swallowing whatever you might say to that when he curls his thick finger back up to make quick, hard strokes against your g-spot. Even as a part of you starts purring with the knowledge that he’s so undone for you, you feel yourself start to come apart at the seams.

Simon straightens your leg, asking, “Number?” Which isn’t fair of him. You have to consciously resist the building tension in your body, resist chasing the orgasm that is building ever so slowly.

“Number, Bambi,” he prompts you again, with mean pressure over your clit.

He’s barely putting any strain on your leg, just holding your it up. “Two,” you gasp. “One and a half.”

He leans forward, just a fraction, with a grin. “Now?”

“Three-ee!” you yelp as his fingers speed up.

He holds you there, watching as you struggle to relax into the stretch. Each time you start to tense into the pleasure, he slows his ministrations, just a little. Just enough to pull you back from the edge. You want to curse him out, you want to cry. It’s agony just as much as a reward, a slow syrupy pleasure that makes everything a little fuzzy around the edges.

“Doin’ so good, Bambi,” he rumbles, what you suspect is much longer than 30 seconds later. “Ready for the other one?”

You give into the urge to arch your back as he adjusts you. Your voice is so soft you’re not sure he’ll hear you when you ask, “C’n I have more?”

Simon hums as he adjusts you to drape your other calf over his shoulder. “Ask me nice.”

Your whole body feels warm and soft and pliant. “Please, Simon, can I have another finger?”

“’F course,” he coos. He straightens your leg. It’s the barest hint of pressure. You whine as his finger withdraws, then settle when he pets at you with two. “Askin’ so nice. C’n ‘ave whatever you want.”

He pushes in, slowly, before he adjusts your leg, and you’re grateful. His hands are so large, and you appreciate them in a new way, now. His fingers are so thick you have to take a few deep breaths to let him in fully. You can feel the groan that scrapes its way out of his chest. Your own hands seek his thighs, clenching the cloth of his sweatpants in a shaky fist as he pushes your leg where it needs to go.

He doesn’t seem to need your input this time, pushing your leg just to where you need it. Or maybe he did ask, but you’re too focused on the gentle and implacable way he caresses you inside to hear him. He barely has to move to devastate you. Before, you had to try not to tense around him. Now? You’re not sure you have any command over your body. You’re at his mercy, the most serene you’ve ever been.

You can’t stop the noises you make when he starts moving again, little whines and moans that he echoes. The climax that has been building inches closer with every beat of his fingers. When he sets your leg back down, you only notice because he leans forward to brace his hand next to your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he rumbles, and the hand between your legs gets so insistent that you have to gasp for breath. “Good girl, Bambi. Tha’s it. You wan’ to come, pretty girl?”

“Si-mon,” you hiccup, turning your head to mouth at his wrist.

“Yeah, you wan’ it,” he rumbles, ducking down to pant against your cheekbone as he works his hand. “You c’n ‘ave it, beautiful, take your reward. Come f’ me, now. C’mon.”

Before Simon, you’d never been able to come on command. After a few months, his voice could coax you to you peak with a little preparation. Now, with his lips brushing your skin and his presence filling your senses?

You couldn’t resist him if you wanted to.

The orgasm feels like it’s torn from behind your belly button. You can barely breathe for how it rolls through you. If Simon wasn’t caging you in, you might shake apart. As it is, you grasp at him however you can, trembling and crying out in ways you’re barely aware of. His voice anchors you through it, rasped encouragement and snarled affection that you can’t understand.

It takes all of your strength to turn your head to catch his lips with yours. Simon takes over, immediately, perfectly, and you give in to him with a panting moan. He steals your remaining breath, but also starts to gentle you down, hand and fingers gentling from earth-shattering movement to something so slow and gentle that your hips chase the echoes of sensation. He lets you. The way he kisses you, you think he really would give you anything you want.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1968 Mercury Cougar XR7-G

Wanting to get a piece of the success that Ford was having with the Shelby Mustangs, Mercury decided to offer their own "aftermarket" modified Cougar. While the Dan Gurney Edition Cougar didn't amount to much more than an appearance package, the XR7-G took things a bit further. Carroll Shelby was called in to help with development and the XR7-G ended up being built alongside the 1968 Shelby Mustangs at the A.O. Smith factory in Detroit Michigan. Due to his involvement and production location, the XR7-G is often called the "Shelby-ized" Cougar. A number of early XR7-G Cougars even became Hertz rental units like previous Shelby Mustangs.

Like the XR7, the XR7-G could be powered by several V8 engines from the 302 all the way up to the 428. Some of the exterior changes included a hood scoop, fog lamps, and a vinyl top. The Rader wheels shown in the press photo here ended up being recalled due to tire sealing and metal fatigue problems, so they were replaced with Cougar styled steel wheels. Inside, the XR7-G boasted leather seating, various wood trim pieces throughout, and a unique center console that housed switches for fog lamps and an optional sunroof, even if the sunroof wasn't ordered. Sunroof cars were shipped from A.O. Smith to American Sunroof Corporation for the installation before returning to Ford Motor Company for distribution.

With just over 600 built, the 1968 XR7-G is one of the most special Mercury Cougars of all time. Particularly if it one of the 14 428 Cobra Jet cars. The first-generation Mercury Cougar offered a dose of style and comfort not often found in contemporary muscle cars.

[comethead]

Wrong Number

MDNI // smutfic // Jason Todd x Reader

“You accidentally take an edible laced with sex pollen, and unbeknownst to you, you called Jason instead of Ivy. Smut ensues.”

(gender-neutral reader, no use of y/n, recreational drug use, sex pollen, missionary, creampie, aphrodisiacs)

Ao3 Link

[dedicated to @fcthots ]

Your breaths come out in short puffs, sweat beading on your forehead. Your skin is on fire, and there’s an undeniable ache between your legs you can’t ignore anymore. Stripped naked, you laid on your bed, legs squeezed together to try and alleviate your burning desire. Dammit. You reach out to your phone, sweeping your hand over your sheets until your fingers make contact with the smooth surface of your screen. Opening it, you scroll down your contacts. F, G, H, I, J. You hit Ivy’s contact, and close your eyes while you let it ring. Hearing it connect, you groan, “Ivyyyy, I don’t know what was in that damn edible you made but I feel- I don’t- ugh.” You smack your bed in frustration, tears welling up from the tension in your stomach. This was embarrassing. You were high, and then horny, but now the high has worn off and you’re still trying to get off. “You know what- never mind, I’ll talk to you later.” You clicked the end call button, and rolled onto your back. Okay, time to try and finish.

Jason stared at the phone in his hand, the screen on ‘call ended’. What the hell was that about? Shit, you weren’t in trouble were you? Edible, huh… He heard from you that Ivy was dabbling in making some after growing weed, which, whatever, she’s not destroying city blocks with her plants anymore so he’ll take that any day. But by your words, it seemed like she’s up to something, he’ll have to check on that later. Or…

“Hey, Oracle. Do me a favor and look into Ivy for me?”

“Sure, what for?” came her reply.

“Mmm, well my friend took one of her edibles and-”

“Wait. Edibles? You better not be doing some stupid prank Hood, or I swear-”

“No! No, it's-,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose,”She just sounded like she was in trouble, but whatever, I’ll deal with it.”

“Oh.” He could hear through the comm link the way her voice softened, which he’s not sure if he hates or is grateful for. “Alright, I’ll send someone over to Ivy’s location.”

“Thanks.”

He shut off the link and looked over to your fire escape. Parking his bike in the alley that ran next to your place, he scaled the wall and clambered onto the escape. It was dark in your room, but you left your window open. Pulling the screen aside, Jason stepped into the room and onto the little welcome mat you put there as a stupid joke. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped.

You were on your side, moans muffled by your pillow as you worked your fingers faster, the slick noises accompanying your voice. His eyes widened, heat shooting through his body as he felt his dick twitch in his combat pants. Fuck, oh how he’s thought of you like this for some nights now. But not now, he thought, must’ve been some of Ivy’s aphrodisiac in that edible. Clearing his throat, he stepped closer. You squeal, and bolt upright, looking at him with wide eyes. “Wha- Jay, what are you doing here?”

“You called me,” he shrugged, ”Wrong number, I guess.”

You stared at him, gears turning in your brain. Maybe, maybe not ‘wrong number’. He could help you, couldn’t he? He’s always been on your mind like that, you might’ve had some unholy thoughts about your best friend.

“Jay,” you whisper, crawling on your hands and knees toward him, “Please,” you’re reaching up to his face now, settling your hand on his mask, “fuck me”.

“Uhh.” It’s his turn to stare at you, eyes trailing over the slope of your chest. “I- I mean, no, you’ve been dosed with some aphrodisiac-” You’re taking his mask off now, sliding your other hand down his chest- “And- and I can’t-”, his breath catches as your hand is placed right on top of his tummy, “-you don’t know what you want,” he finished, glancing from your hands to your half-lidded eyes.

“I don’t?” You gaze back into his eyes, looking down to his lips as you move closer, ghosting your hands over his body and placing them on his shoulders. Your lips connect, and he deepens the kiss, placing his hands on your waist. You pull him closer to you, shifting back until you can bring him down to your level, lips still on each other as he runs a hand through your hair. Your hair catches on his fingers and it pulls, but it feels so good the way he’s bringing his hand through from your scalp and grabbing a fistful of your hair at the back. You moan into his mouth as your kisses get sloppier, as he releases your hair and his hands wander down over your nude body, caressing your thighs. You don’t know if you can take it anymore. Pulling back from his kiss, you breathe,”Jay, please, I need you so badly, I- I can’t-”. You gasp as he suddenly grips your thighs and curses.

Straightening, he starts to strip as you watch, flushing as you spot his happy trail and finally, as he pulls his pants down you can see the bump of his bulge in his boxers. You rub your thighs together, scooting back onto the bed to give him space to mount you. You can see him tracing the shape of your body with his eyes, finally locking onto the wetness between your legs. Jason pushes his boxers down, letting his cock spring free and you can see he’s already leaking precum, which threatens to snap that tight band in your stomach. Throwing your head back, you moan and spread your legs for him. “Yeah,” he breathes, “Yeah I’ll fuck you alright,” as he looms over your needy body. He kneels on the bed, lining his stiff cock with your entrance and begins to push in.

“Fuuuckk, baby you gotta relax,” he moans, pressing into you slowly as your mouth gapes from how he’s stretching you open. You swear you almost cum immediately from his intrusion, but your arousal heightens as he thrusts all the way in. You cry out in pleasure, gripping your sheets and squeezing your eyes shut as he starts to fuck you, slowly at first but quickening his pace as to seeing how desperate you are. You were practically rolling your hips onto his cock until he held them still and fucked you at a punishing pace. He groaned, his ear tickled with your pleading and moaning. It felt so good, the burning feeling turned into pleasure as Jason rocked his hips into yours, and you were sure you were going to finally cum.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me aren’t you?” he moans, the sounds of your sex filling the room.

“You’re close, aren’t you baby? C’mon then,” he lowers his face towards your ear, “Cum for me sweetheart,” he whispers, and finally that tension snaps and you cry out, your orgasm forcing your eyes shut as you cream around his cock that’s still pumping hard into you. You pant as he curses and thrusts into you faster, chasing his own high until he’s spilling his cum into you, the warmth making your belly tingle. He’s panting too, as he pulls out of you and stands up, reaching over to grab a towel from your dresser. He cleans you up and you stare up at him, eyes half-lidded and the only sounds that fill the room are of you two breathing hard. You don’t talk and neither does he, and you move over on the bed to give him room as he lays next to you. He moves onto his side, propping his head up with a hand as he smirks, “Not bad, huh?”

You snort, and snuggle closer to him.

“Not bad at all, Jay.”

[kittiekonfuzed]

Number one in the hood G...

[csainzsgirly]

Your Carlos Sainz drabble was amazing 😍! Could you do one with Pierre Gasly? You are accompanying him to a photo shooting for Hawkers (the one where he wears the suit) and you think he has never looked so good. No wonder his grid number is 10. After he finishes the shooting, you just can't resist him. Your hands are all over him during the drive home, on the kitchen counter, in the shower... You've forgotten how many times he's made you cum. And when he talks to you in French, you are definitely done for 🤤

Disclaimer: this is google translate french, sorry 😔

"Pierre, Pierre, Pierre," you gasped, not sure if you were about to pass out or just see stars, or both, when his head disappeared between your thighs while you were sprawled out over the marble kitchen counter in his Milano apartment. Your legs fell open without a battle when his hands firmly spread you open for him, looking at the mess he made just seconds ago. He takes a second to admire your glistening pussy before his tongue licks up the slick that's dripping down your thigh, the stubble on his chin and cheeks roughing up your soft skin, but the burn hurt so good. Two of his fingers slipped inside you easily, already stretched out and overstimulated from the work of his cock.

You gathered all of your strength to lean up on your elbows, looking at the wild look in his eyes, his hair messed up from your fingers raking through them, the suit that belonged to his jacket was thrown on the floor behind him, the sunglasses you had been promoting together barely an hour ago lazily thrown on the counter next to his car keys. Your dress was bunched up around your waist, your panties ripped and stuffed into the back pocket of his slacks. God, this was filthy, it was filthy, needy sex that was overstimulating you, making you cock drunk and feel hazed like any time you had this man to yourself. The primal urge and desire Pierre fucked you with was so addictive, and even when you were sure you couldn't go for one more, he managed to squeeze three more out of you.

"Cette chatte a tellement bon goût," he groaned, licking your clit into his mouth and sucking it between his lips, his fingers soon working in tandem with his mouth. You felt your body tensing up already, not able to slow down the untying knot in your lower abdomen when his fingers worked their magic by brushing over your g-spot, stimulating the spot inside you that made you let out borderline pornographic moans, satisfying his ears and complimenting his ego. "J'adore quand tu jouis pour moi," Pierre's voice rasped, teeth nipping at your hipbone when his thumb replaced his tongue on your clit, rubbing in firm circles while the pace of his fingers didn't falter. Your ears were ringing when you soaked his fingers, crying out when his lips wrapped around your clit again as you came.

"Tellement bon pour moi," he whispered, feeling his cock being painfully hard again. You watched through hooded eyes as he jerked himself once or twice, smears of your lipstick visible at the base of his cock, revealing the secret that your lips were around his cock in the car while he was driving you back to his apartment. Pierre lifted you off the counter and onto his cock with no warning, the feeling of being filled to the brim causing your toes to curl and your nails to claw into his shoulders. You almost made it into the shower without stopping anyway, but there was no way he could skip the mirror above the skin, in which you looked so pretty as he bend you over the counter, your tits bouncing with each rut of his hips.

The hot steam of the shower made your mind even more fuzzy, as if you had just finished a whole bottle of champagne. His stamina was truly crazy, and you could barely remember whether he had fucked you in the hallway first or if you had gone straight down the kitchen when you came back after the photoshoot. Your palms planted against the glass wall, desperately trying to find something to hold onto while his hands were wrapped around your hips, dragging you back onto his cock while he thrusted into in a firm pace. "Fuck, f-fuck, Pierre," you whined, barely able to keep standing up as another orgasm was wiring up inside you, making you feel hot all over. "Tu en as encore un pour moi, bébé, je le sais," he growled, listening to the slick sounds of your bodies colliding with each thrust.

You were glad his arm curled around your waist when you tipped over the edge, dots clouding your vision and your feet nearly slipped over the tiles. The aftershocks were the most delicious you ever felt as his cock was pulsing between your walls, his lips kissed your neck, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. "The fotoshoots with you always get me so fucking horny," he breathed, making you let out a laugh. "You say?" you smiled weakily, sure you would struggle to walk tomorrow.

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 6)

Hello, hello, hello, and welcome to the sixth installment of this little series of mine! Thank you all again for likes and shares on the previous parts. You all continue to blow me away with your support for this project of mine. Once again, smooches and squeezy-hugs to you all! But only if you want them.

As a quick heads up, we're entering into the "December 2012" era of fics, so you might start seeing a bit of a Christmas theme going on for a for a little bit. Generally, I don't prefer Christmas fics myself, but I'm a sucker for kid and pack fics (you may have already been able to tell), and those tropes tend to work well in a Christmas setting. Consider yourselves warned!

Okay, that's all from me for now. Ta-ta!

List and link to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

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Nothing Satisfies Me But Your Soul by fadedhues (NR | 1/1 | 1,259)

“My name is Death,” he sings softly, and it’s fucking pretty, like he’s singing a lullaby to the winter sky, “and the end is here.”

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must be a devil between us by hoars (NR | 1/1 | 2,081)

"What? Why would-- Derek, why would your daemon encourage mine to touch you?" Stiles fakes calm well, but his heart gives him away.

"Because Luminera is a deviant." He shrugs. He accepted Luminera's reckless behavior years ago.

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souls of mischief by hoars (M | 2/2 | 2,695)

Stiles’ first memory of his mom is green.

Her green eyes, her green dresses, her green scarves, her green blouses and her green barrettes.

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with the darkness fed by Rena (NR | 1/1 | 2,835)

It takes him several tries to dial the right number; his hands are slippery with blood (warm and sticky and bright red) and his entire body is shaking with the aftermath of puking his guts out, his breath is burning in his lungs and the phone keeps eluding his grasp.

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What Could Have Been by thingcalledlove (G | 1/1 | 2,971)

The camera zooms in on the face of a very beautiful woman who looks vaguely familiar.

“Who’s the babe?” Stiles jokes, turning to look over at Derek.

“My mom,” Derek replies with a glare.

“Oh, shit, dude, I’m sor—” Stiles breaks off his apology as his eyes drift back towards the screen. Beside Mrs. Hale is another familiar face. One he hasn’t seen in a long time. His mother.

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I Don't Want To Be Saved by Lapin (M | 1/1 | 3,132)

And everyone, everyone has their own ideas about this relationship, they all say the same things, they all do. "He's not good for you," "It's Derek," "This is the fourth night in a row," "What kind of asshole dates a high schooler?" "I'm not okay with this."

But Stiles pulls the red hood up, wanders from the path, and he's picking flowers, and he's breathing, "My, what big teeth you have," and Derek bares his fangs, and yeah. Fuck them.

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Will Wonders Never Cease by thecheekydragon (T | 1/1 | 3,632)

Sheriff Stilinski wonders how Derek Hale fits into his working theory of a gigantic, two-ton pissed off moose shot-putting his son’s jeep.

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Practically Perfect by betp (NR | 1/1 | 3,688)

WE NEED A NANNY PROBALLY. Reqirments: - eyes light up - wants to go places - can travel between dimentions - likes cheesebergers - a wear wolf - lisens to good music - SUPER STRONG - favorit color is pink - has friends who can fly - will merry our Dad

There is a stick figure drawing of a werewolf with red eyes and bared teeth, marrying Stiles on a cloud.

Or, "The one that has next to nothing to do with the kids." This is a straight-up unapologetic Mary Poppins AU.

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Laura is Badass by hoars (NR | 1/1 | 5,079)

Laura's not expecting two teenage boys to burst into the bakery, brandishing lacrosse sticks yelling about “Kidnap!” and “Pedobears!” and “Sex slaves are illegal!”

She’s flabbergasted.

“Cupcake?” Derek offers.

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When You Stop Believing in Santa You Get Underwear by owlpostagain (T | 1/1 | 7,817)

There are some salvageable things though. A virtually untouched heavy slate sign that says, engraved in an ornate script that confirms at least one person in the Hale family had a sense of humor (Stiles has a horrible suspicion it might have been Peter), When You Stop Believing in Santa You Get Underwear.

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Beltane by DevilDoll (E | 1/1 | 8,254)

"Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he's seeing something intimate and private that shouldn't have an audience. That's nothing compared to how it feels." This is an AU in which Stiles has magical healing powers.

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Your Words Are Robbery by dedougal (E | 1/1 | 12,127)

When Stiles is dragged back to Beacon Hills, he has to face everything he left behind.

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cool story, bro by drunktuesdays (E | 1/1 | 13,087)

Based on a truly ridiculous conversation with Kalpurna about a hypothetical Stilinski Twins situation that ended up sounding something like:

“FUUUUUUCK, is it a sweet valley high situation where Stiles is very aware that his twin is way more attractive and confident than he is, EVEN THOUGH THEY'RE IDENTICAL, and he always ends up with the hotter significant others and more friends and Stiles guesses that's why he's attracted to the pack at first, because it's something that's just his, not his twin's too. But of course, Stiles's twin gets bit and now he's part of Derek's pack, and Derek doesn't snap at him like he snaps at Stiles, never slams him into things, fucking FIGURES, STILES'S TWIN GETS EVERYTHIIIIIIIING.”

Kalpurna/good ideas OTP.

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Stay. by paradis (E | 1/1 | 15,537)

He leaves because the press of Derek’s lips and the sting of his teeth against Stiles’ neck are still burning his skin, and he can’t stop touching them, but then he remembers Derek telling him he’s not pack, he never was, and that he doesn’t belong here.

He leaves because Lydia asks him too, but he doesn’t go back to Beacon Hills because no one asked him to come back.

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What To Expect When You're Expecting (A Litter of Sourwolf Puppies) by Brego_Mellon_Nin (E | 1/1 | 17,422)

The Sheriff sighs and plops down in a chair opposite his son.

“Stiles, I’m going crazy here. We need to get you to a doctor. You sleep like you’re trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records, and your eating habits are bizarre! You vomit around the clock and for some reason only the tea your mother used when she was pregnant will get your stomach to settle down for any length of time. Is there something you aren’t telling me? Can werewolves get guys pregnant? I’ve noticed how you look at that Hale kid-”

Stiles meeps and flails, sloshing tea down his front. Luckily it’s not scalding anymore, but still hot, so he jumps up and wrenches his shirt off.

“God, dad, no! Guys can’t get pregnant, that’s ridiculous, it’s like...”

“Like werewolves being real?” his dad questions, deadpan.

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Home by coffeeinallcaps (E | 1/1 | 18,464)

Derek has bought a beautiful house. Stiles can't stay away. (In which everyone hangs out at Derek's place all the time and Stiles tries but fails not to fall for a certain socially inept alpha.)

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Assistant to the Consulting Detectives by idyll (T | 9/9 | 18,674)

Stiles is going to NYU and ends up working for Sherlock and Joan.

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Metamorphsis by happyevraftr (E | 1/1 | 20,755)

Life isn’t easy for Stiles Stilinski. This is a truth he’d come to accept a long time ago, so it’s no surprise when an enemy pack shows up in town with a mysterious Alpha that’s hell bent on revenge. Things escalate quickly when Erica goes missing and Isaac is attacked by the new pack. As if that isn’t enough to handle, Stiles own body begins to betray him and he must decide whether to die as a human, or live as a werewolf.

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The Birthday Fic by seussian (E | 1/1 | 21,066)

It's Derek's 30th birthday, and Erica and Boyd have been kidnapped. Again.

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Tutor!Verse series by betp (10 works | NR-M | 41,579)

They meet when Derek is seventeen and hates history almost as much as he hates his ex, Kate, and Stiles is sixteen and taking junior-level history classes. Then they fall in love and do dates on each other and I didn't mean for any of this to happen. By which I mean Sterek fic!

1. Not Another Sterek Romance (It Is Absolutely Another Sterek Romance) (T | 1/1 | 2,405) In which Derek is the worst at history and Stiles wears glasses. 2. Boys, Interrupted (NR | 1/1 | 1,329) "I am the result of your academic ennui," Stiles summarises. 3. Jeepin' (M | 1/1 | 1,368) Stiles warns Derek four days in advance, resulting in Derek unable to concentrate in any of his classes that Friday, because all he can think about is his impending gay deflowering, which--jesus fucking christ. 4. Peer Pressure (T | 1/1 | 1,615) "Can't even answer a simple question, he's too good for that. I hope he knows what we do to kids who are too good to talk to us." 5. Golden (NR | 1/1 | 947) "It's like a recipe for a summer romance movie from the 80s." 6. Catch Me a Catch (NR | 1/1 | 1,828) In which Allison will never understand Stiles' sense of humour, Scott will never understand what Stiles sees in Derek, and Derek wonders what he would spend his free time doing if he'd never met Stiles. (The answer is CoD and literally nothing else.) 7. Education (NR | 1/1 | 2,990) "I'll try anything once." He pauses. "With you. Only with you."

In which Stiles and Derek have been dating for three years, and Derek decides to try something new. 8. Viridian (NR | 1/1 | 5,967) "Dude, forget Stiles." 9. Biological Imperative (NR | 1/1 | 2,206) "I want to have children with you someday," Derek interjects firmly. "Not that I know why I seem to think that would be a good idea." Tin here. Just wanted to pop in and say that this part (part 9) is the conclusion to this series as the next part is a WIP reboot of the series.

10. i brought my pencil (NR | 3/? | 20,924) Your typical, classic nerd/jock au, but with a shittier attitude. (A reboot of this series. Sorry guys.)

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