#satisfying brush fires

[johnschneiderblog]

Up in smoke

Burning brush (my chief occupation in recent days) reminds me of my son-in-law's explanation for why he enjoys splitting my firewood:

The problem is the intact log; the solution is a splitting maul and muscle. The maul comes down, the log surrenders with a satisfying crack!. Problem solved. So simple - unlike most other of life's challenges.

Burning brush is satisfying in that same way, with the added bonus of appealing to our primitive fascination with fire.

But there's more to it than lighting the first twig, then watching the pile burn. A proper brush fire must be coaxed, encouraged and managed in order to reach its destiny - a puff of smoke and a layer of ashes.

It's practically magic.

[rubystims]

🍺 / 💸 / 🍺 🚬 / 🕴️ / 🚬 🎰 / 🕴️ / 🎰 An Alastair (name) stimboard for anon!

[ohimsummer]

GIRL, I NEED A TASTE ft. PUPPYBOY! SATORU

— minors dni, needy + lovesick + puppyboy! satoru x fem! reader, tít sucking, subby! satoru, humping (dryhumping??), breeding + creampie mentions

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ i went a little overboard writing this <//3 strongest ‘puppy-dog eyes’ user everyone

wc 1.4k

you give puppyboy! satoru an inch, and he will take several miles.

he’s ready to pounce on you 24/7: when you wake up, when you return home, when you’re fresh out of the shower, when you come back from a 5 minute bathroom break during movie night. it’s insane the way, if it were up to him, your pussy would never know peace.

in satoru’s “defense”, he can’t help wanting to stuff you full of himself all the time. he loves you, he’s in love with you and, in his eyes, what better way to show it than the overwhelming amounts of euphoria he could put you both through? satoru loves to give, give, give to you; his heart, his attention, his affections, and his cum at the end of it all.

you suppose his reasoning is understandable, more so from satoru’s point of view, but fucking every minute of every day isn’t sustainable—it’s only fair you tell him ‘no’ sometimes. and that’s when satoru brings out the theatrics: whining, crying, whimpering and complaining about how he’s “sooo harddd” and he’ll “be super quick”. fluttering snowy white lashes to beg with those woeful, blue, puppy-dog eyes, glistening with tears that he seems to be able to summon on a dime.

satoru flashes you the cutest pout as he presses himself up against you, grinding his bulge against your ass as he nuzzles and nips at your cheek. slow, impatient sways of a fluffy tail, the perk of those twitching, adorable ears whenever you cast him even a glance. satoru whispers a hopeful “pretty pretty please…just once?” as he licks at the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps from your neck to spine.

it doesn’t matter, really. he can do it all for as long as his heart desires, because in the end…

…it’ll get satoru exactly what he wants every time.

the movie you put on isn’t nearly as immersive as you’d hoped. and even if it was, satoru keeps pulling your attention away with every nip and lick to your thighs.

“toru.”, you deadpan, and he instantly weaponizes those wide, doe-like eyes of his. paired with a slight wag of his tail, a friendly gesture which he aims to placate with, and satoru has easily dodged your annoyance once more.

you brush off his bad habit with a sigh before your attention returns to the screen in front of you. and then, not even five minutes later, the sharp poke of his fangs sinks back into the fat of your thigh. it’s always steady and deliberate; satoru wants to see just how much you’ll allow before jabbing an irritated finger to his forehead in disdain. meanwhile, once he’s satisfied with the depth of his teeth, he sucks harshly at the skin, glancing between you and the newfound hickey now blooming. then he goes in again, quicker but that’s only because he’s expecting a sure-fire dose of your wrath this time.

“satoru—“

“look!” he interrupts, tail wagging eagerly. “bit ya in the shape of a heart, because i love you.” technically not a lie, but not the full truth, either.

and you’re so distracted with looking at satoru’s little sign of affection, which is indeed adorably heart-shaped, you forget altogether your reasoning for addressing him in the first place: to chide him again on biting you so hard—which is all part of his plan.

it takes no time before satoru has squeezed way more out of you than you meant to give. when you stopped warning him about the biting, he readjusted to “cuddle” you. his head is on your chest like always, hands on your hips, but they quickly dip underneath the hem of your shirt to knead at your waist. and then they’re slithering up further, grazing at your underboob before finally squeezing one of your breasts.

“satoru.” he cowers under the angry heat of your stare. “if i have to tell you one more time…”

his tongue darts out to lap at your exposed neck, causing you to wriggle at the needy gesture. “ ‘m sorry, they’re like my little stress balls. can I touch, please?”

and you shouldn’t have relented and said yes. of course you shouldn’t have, you knew that. if you agree to this, he knows now that you’ll agree to pretty much anything. but satoru stares at you with those dreamy eyes, gleaming with stars to whisk you away to a bad decision. it takes a single, pleading blink as he gives you a small squeeze, and you have fallen victim to his spell once again.

your shirt is pushed up hastily to expose your tits, leaving them subject to satoru’s merciless greed. he pinches, pulls, and tugs with both hands and mouth, sinking fangs into every inch of your breasts since he cannot stand to not see signs of himself on them. because he thinks you’re pretty, duh, but he thinks you’re prettier when your body is spotted up with the marks he loves to leave.

not long after, he’s shed you of your pants, tossed somewhere over the edge of the bed. what started off as a slow grind has turned to satoru’s bare cock humping your thigh, searing and sticky as he leaks a mess of precum all over your skin. just the sensation of it sends an aching rhythm of throbs to your core, your painfully empty hole sporadically fluttering around nothing.

in your mind—buried beneath thoughts of this dreadful movie and the excruciating desire to have satoru’s cock battering your insides—are the very last remnants of willpower you cling to. you can visualize clearly the smug look sure to grace his face if you whine a single plea about satoru fucking you. after all, you’re the one who was all ‘no sex right now, ‘toru’. if you can’t keep your word for even one night, you might be just as sex-crazed as he is.

there is a nonstop background noise of his tail thumping and sweeping against the bed. satoru’s wags haven’t let up since you gave your first yes, and only grow stronger with each new whimpered plea you yield to. they pick up with the pace of his thrusts, a beat to harmonize with the sinful song of his desperate whimpers right before gojo reaches another high—he lets loose a muffled cry into your chest, still pathetically humping your leg like a lovesick mutt as he gushes yet another pool of cum to coat your thighs and panties. after that, his wags ease up to a slow, easygoing thud, now overpowered by the raspy heaves of air he sucks into his lungs.

and it’s the same song and dance every time. satoru takes a few minutes to catch his breath, and then he’s ready for another round. from the corner of your eye, you notice those teary blues have locked on to you. he tests the waters, gradually rutting against you again, mouthing at your breasts to see if you’ll tell him ‘that’s enough, ‘toru’. he is pleased when the words never come, and his actions only grow bolder the longer you let it go on; he licks at your jawline, down your neck before placing a few nips here and there. tweaks your sore nipples between his thumb and index, plunging his dick harder and faster along your thigh for another repeat of the last few hours.

with each daring action over the course of the night, satoru has dragged you a little closer towards the edge with him. first it was pushing your top up, next, it was taking off your shorts. then, it was a bold move of pawing at your clothed pussy, which almost turned into his hand in your panties if you hadn’t pinched his ear and told him no. though, he could just as easily get you to let him anyway if he asks in that very sweet voice of his, the one he always uses when he longs for something from you.

“can I take off your panties?”, satoru finally asks, tilting his head to stare you right in the face.

you won’t meet his eye, and he knows you won’t. because both of you know if you do, he will quickly shred that last bit of self-control at the tips of your fingers. a single bat of his lashes and you’ll be nodding your head, raising your hips so he can tear away your underwear. and then it will only be a matter of time before satoru’s pinning you down to stuff his cock in your walls as deep as you can take. it’s all he wants, all he craves. but as long as you avoid looking into his alluring eyes, you may hold off satoru and his contagious desires for just a little longer.

tagz: @blkkizzat @teddybeartoji @lxnarphase @hellkaiserinphoenix @cinnamoneve @satoruxsc @rosso-seta @sapphireandange @starlightanyaaa @manyno @sugu-love @leilalilox @sataraxia @apatauaia @luvvforliaa @purplegemadventures @v0ctin @kissesfrombelle @babytoshiii @biscuitsngravie @neptuneblue @staryukis ( HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN LOGANNNNNN😼😼‼️‼️💚🩵💛💚🩵💛💚🩵💛💚🩵)

[pseudowho]

Full

Nanami Kento treats his pregnant wife like the goddess she is.

Warnings: 18+, relentlessly fluffy sex

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You were thoroughly fed-up. About as pregnant as you could possibly be, you spent your days in permanent tiredness; belly too heavy and round, and hips too sore to be comfortable in any position overnight, you knew your wonderful husband Kento would take the aches and pains from you if he could.

Lying in bed on your side, pillows wedged under your bump, between your legs, and behind your back, Kento reached a reassuring hand out to stroke your waist as you grumbled to yourself; a full hour in bed now and no chance at sleep. Holding your legs together to support your aching hips, you heaved yourself up sideways, feeling your bones and muscles creak in protest. With a lump in your throat and tears burning in your eyes, you sat on the side of the bed to gather yourself.

You heard the bed creak behind you, and soft footsteps padded round the bedroom towards you. Warm, large hands cupped your cheeks and temples, stroking you gently. You leaned forwards, resting your nose and lips against his lower tummy, nuzzling and planting soft kisses there.

"I'm sorry. You can't get any sleep with me thrashing around. I can go to the spare room if you like," you reassured Kento. You felt his disapproval rumble through his abdomen.

"Don't ever apologise. I'm sorry you're so uncomfortable. For what it's worth, you're doing an amazing job. Not long left, I'm sure. We can get you through it. I'll run you a bath."

You hummed your approval, his hand lingering in yours as he walked towards the bathroom. You heard various containers being clicked, and the bath water beginning to run, before Kento headed back to you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. He grasped your hands and helped you to stand, before helping you to remove your pyjama bottoms.

You felt pathetic, useless, ugly, watching your gorgeous husband help you undress. As if reading your mind, he kissed his way playfully up your legs, blew a raspberry on your bump, and pulled you to him.

"You are just as lovely, if not lovelier than you've ever been. Watching you grow our baby has been a total delight and I want you to know that I still find you completely irresistible." You scoffed at him, dubious, puffy-ankled and tearful. He grasped your chin gently and pulled you to look up at him.

"I mean it," he said, voice low and so sincere you felt your eyes prick with tears. Sniffling, you rubbed your nose. "Come on. Your bath should be about ready."

Kento led you to the bath, and held your hands as you stepped in and lowered your body, sighing as the almost too hot water sank into your aching hips. Letting out a satisfied hum, you lay back in the scented water, looking at your swollen breasts and belly rising like islands out of the water. Kento watched you fondly for a moment, before slipping away to the kitchen. You faintly heard the click of the kettle, and the clinking of mugs.

Eyes closed, and slowly inhaling the steam, you watched your belly roll and jump, as your baby tumbled inside it. Stroking your tummy, you didn't notice Kento returning with a cup of tea for you. He knelt by the side of the bath, chin on one arm, as he gently splashed water over your moving bump. When his heavy hand rested atop your bump, fingers tip-tapping, your baby stopped as if listening. Kento chuckled.

"Only moving for mama again? Hello, sweetie. We can't wait to meet you." A moment of still, before Kento received a pronounced thump against his fingers. Kento continued to softly brush water over your belly and breasts, watching you intently, utterly besotted, believing with absolute certainty that he would walk through fire for you and your unborn baby.

You felt Kento's eyes bore into you, and you shifted uncomfortably, still feeling like a shadow of yourself, body taken over by something wholly undesirable. However, judging by Kento's gradually darkening eyes as he scanned your body, wet and full, he certainly did not feel the same. You felt your heart squeeze as his fingertips grazed ever so lightly against your nipples, which instantly tightened and pebbled. Kento's mouth watered.

It hadn't been his intention to become so aroused by you. His sole priority had been your comfort, to make you feel good in your body, but he felt his pyjamas growing tighter and tighter as he watched your body in the water, a Romantic-era goddess who deserved to be awash in flowers and adoration. Biting his lip, Kento mentally shook himself off, not at all wanting to bother you with his desire, knowing you were uncomfortable and exhausted, until--

"Kento, I...feel like as much as I want you right now, I just...I--" you hesitated, stumbling on your words as he frowned lightly at you. You reached a hand over the lip of the bath to stroke his bare chest as you continued, "All I mean is, in my current state, there is nothing I could possibly do to make...to make me...an attractive experience for you." You finished weakly, your words falling flat as Kento's dark eyes continued to stare you down, now hungry and, apparently, stubbornly determined to prove you wrong.

Kento hummed to himself again, remaining, as always, a man of few words. "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes," he mused, "because all I see is the love of my life, beautifully wet, carrying my baby, in a body I can taste in my dreams, telling me she's undesirable, while it's all I can do not to lift you out of this bath and sink my tongue and cock into you until you're too busy calling my name to continue thinking something so ridiculous."

You bit your lip, thighs squeezing together as you felt a familiar heat pool between your legs. Kento leaned into you, kissing you deeply, slipping his tongue into you and you gasped as he moaned at your taste. Without breaking contact with you, he reached down to the end of the bath, grabbing the shower head and adjusting its setting. You felt a warm water jet rush against your thighs, as he slowly raised it to the throbbing ache between your legs.

Your head fell back, mouth open in a silent cry and hands gripping the sides of the bath. The hot pulse of water on your aching clit hit you instantly and intensely, and Kento leaned half into the bath, taking your nipple between his teeth and holding your hips still with another hand. You whined and whimpered, hands tangling into Kento's hair, completely wordless with pleasure as he moved the shower head in small circles around your clit, licking your sore nipple.

Your tummy tightened almost painfully, as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching, a violent one, overstimulated by the fierce rush of water and Kento's mouth on your sensitive nipples. Kento talked you through your pleasure, voice low and soft as velvet.

"Are you going to cum? I won't deny you. You've earned it. I'll make you fall apart a hundred times if that's what it takes for you to understand what you do to me." You gasped, hands furiously clutching his hair, his shoulders, his chest, your hip gripped tightly by him as you bucked and writhed in the water.

Kento pressed the showerhead firmly against your clit. "Cum," he ordered, and you shouted your pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a train, completely blinded by bliss, face screwed up and whimpering.

Throwing the showerhead aside and turning off the taps, Kento reached fully into the water and lifted you as if you weighed nothing, nose to nose with you before draping you onto your bed. Before you could protest about wet sheets, Kento dropped straight to his knees, bodily dragged your bum to the edge of the bed and placed your knees over his shoulders. You had barely a moment to gather your thoughts before Kento plunged his tongue between your folds and licked a fat stripe from entrance to clit.

You bucked, gasping, hypersensitive and senses on high alert. You craned your neck desperately as you felt Kento begin to suck on your clit, but were completely unable to see him past your bump. Your toes curled against his shoulder blades, hands reaching out, desperate to ground yourself with the pleasure overwhelming you, your second orgasm rapidly approaching, and you sobbed your pleasure into the dark warmth of your bedroom. As your hand reached down, Kento's hand reached up and his fingers laced with yours. You could have cried at the sweet intimacy of his thumb stroking your palm, as you came, crying out and twisting, calling Kento's name into the dark.

Kento lapped at you like a starving man, one hand already freeing his cock from the tight confines of his pyjamas. He couldn't help giving himself long strokes, squeezing at the tip and feeling pre-cum leak over his hand as his thumb swiped across his slit. He shivered, involuntarily groaning into your pussy, and he felt your thighs twitch around his head at the vibrations. By this point, he knew you could barely see straight, panting and gripping his hand, your anchor in the mist.

The thought of you writhing with pleasure above him spurred him on further, and, reluctantly letting go of his desperate length, he pressed two fingers deep inside your pussy, wet and fluttering, instantly able to locate the spongy spot inside you which would send you over the edge again.

You were a mess at this point, tears of overstimulation streaking down into your ears, gripping Kento's hand like a lifeline. You hadn't allowed him to pleasure you like this for weeks, feeling like your body didn't belong to you anymore, and guilty towards your unborn baby for feeling this way. So long had passed that you hadn't realised how desperately you had craved Kento while denying him and yourself.

"Please Kento I can't-- can't--" you babbled, completely incapable of stringing a sentence together. His hand squeezed yours reassuringly again, and you felt his fingers curl up inside you as his tongue flicked practiced circles over you.

Feeling your pussy clench around him again, and you whimpering weakly, thighs shaking around his head, Kento felt his thighs now sticky with his own precum. Squeezing the base of his cock as he gently brought you down from your high, he nuzzled at your thighs, planting light kisses and soft words of adoration. Kento tried to pant quietly, still unwilling to chase his own needs with your body, as long as you were sated and in full knowledge that he adored you still.

Kento felt his hand being tugged by you, insistently.

"Get up here. I'm not done with you." As Kento's face appeared above your bump, nose and chin glistening with your essence, you blushed at the mischievous look in his eyes. He crawled up the bed, hovering over you, caging you in, all broad planes of muscle and protection.

"Do you want to...I mean, I'm just happy if you're happy..." Kento stopped as you placed a finger on his lips.

"Just...help me flip over." Kento growled lowly in approval, and flipped you over onto your knees with ease. He reached up the bed to place pillows around and underneath you, until your bump was supported and your bum arched beautifully towards him. He ran his tongue languidly along the exaggerated 'S' of your back, before placing a playful nip on your bottom. You squeaked and waggled your bum at him, and he placed a firm slap on one cheek as you giggled. Warmth spread through him, delighted by your happiness.

Kento lazily fingered your folds, so wet and inviting, and you sighed, pressing back into his hands. He dipped one finger inside you again, using your wetness to lubricate his cock as he continued to pump himself at the view of you, so open and inviting before him. He leaned around you, caging you in again, now from behind, and you felt so deliciously vulnerable.

His voice, slow and sultry, rumbled through your ear; "let me know if I'm hurting you."

With no further warning, you felt every inch of Kento sheath within you, your swollen pussy sensitive and clenching instantly, and it took all of Kento's restraint not to cum right there. Holding your hips tightly against his, his head rolled back in bliss and he sighed deeply, grunting as he pulled out and sharply thrust back into you again, relishing your squeaks and gasps.

Kento wanted to hold himself back, but, desperate to show you exactly how desirable he found you, his hips took on a life of their own, slamming repeatedly into you. He groaned and panted, eyes fixed on where his cock sunk into you, watching your wetness coat his thighs until the room was filled with wet slaps and guttural moans. You had given yourself over to him completely, and lay prone, back arched and arse in the air, relishing in the deep aching pleasure of being utterly railed by the man who treated you like a captured goddess.

Kento felt so guilty that having only been pleasured by his own hand for weeks, through no fault of your own, he chased his orgasm like a needy virgin. Wordlessly, he arched over you like an animal, forearms caging your head. As you sank your teeth into one forearm, kissing, licking and mewling, he felt cum shoot through his cock with little warning, gasping and shaking as he came, feeling his seed drip out around your folds, so much after so long, and he was lost in a haze of pleasure for what felt like minutes.

Catching himself before he collapsed down onto your back, Kento gripped you to him and flopped sideways, still inside you as he spooned you, teeth sinking into your shoulder with unashamed worship. His lower arm snaked under your neck to rub lazy circles on your breast, while his upper arm cradled your bump, holding you, never wanting to let you go.

"I love, revere and adore you," Kento intoned into your neck, "even more so now you're sacrificing so much to give me everything I ever dreamed of." You felt tears prick in your eyes, completely awash with his sincerity. "So please, don't ever think you're ugly to me. I will love your body and mind with every change. I celebrate it."

Planting gentle kisses to your temple, Kento moaned as he slipped out of you. Lifting you into bed, he grabbed a soft cloth from his drawer and placed it lovingly between your legs before arranging your pillows with the skill of an expert, and covering you with a dry blanket.

You began to feel sleep roll over you as Kento replaced the wet sheets. As you began to drift, feeling your baby tumble within you, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Kento would love you, and your baby, through any and every storm along the way.

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I post this fic in celebration of being blissfully married to my own Nanami, in advance of the birth of my 3rd and final baby ✌️ Every woman deserves a Kento to worship her.

[heartsforhavik]

superfan! yandere boy x gn! popstar reader

✰ warnings: stalking, obsessiveness, breaking and entering, nsfw, masochist yandere, overstimulation, thigh riding, bondage, male masturbation, unhealthy behavior, average yandere tendencies, male yandere oc (he’s very pathetic and perverted, it’s giving “step on me” energy.) gender neutral reader

✰ a/n: heyyyyy guess who isn’t dead.. i literally open tumblr every 3 minutes i just haven’t been posting. but i’m hereeeee lol. here’s a random yandere oc post, sorry it’s not mortal kombat. (tbh i have faded away from my mk obsession and now i am obsessed with until dawn, the quarry, tlou, and rdr.)

part two here!

superfan! yandere boy that buys all of your merchandise and streams your music on loop 24/7. even while he sleeps.

superfan! yandere boy that commissions artists to draw you and him together in different styles. some of them may depict him on a cute date with you, and some are more explicit and depict you stepping on him or choking him.

superfan! yandere boy that sneaks into your concerts if he didn’t manage to buy a ticket. no matter how strong your security is, he will always manage to find a way in and pretend he's just a regular fan.

superfan! yandere boy that will even sneak onto your house and film you through your window for hours, and then he would go home and touch himself to the footage of you.

superfan! yandere boy that wants to buy meet-and-greet tickets to see you, and be able to feel your presence up close and be able to speak to you personally. but as much as he craves your attention, he knows he wouldn't be able to handle it and would crumble immediately the second you look him in the eyes.

superfan! yandere boy that pays people to stalk you and take pictures of you when he can't do it himself. especially ones when you have a wardrobe malfunction.

superfan! yandere boy that goes to sleep every night fantasizing and dreaming of you. his particular favorite wet dream is of you letting him ride your thigh, grinding against your skin as a desperate attempt to feel any friction on his cock. your hands would roam around his body as he relishes in your attention, no matter where you touch him. any small nudge or brush against his skin would set his heart on fire and oh no where'd his pants go-

superfan! yandere boy that thinks you could do no wrong. you said something offensive and got yourself cancelled? he is your number one defender and would be threatening your naysayers on the internet. he would even go as far as to learn to hack just so he could delete their accounts.

superfan! yandere boy that almost WANTS to get caught. he knows he wouldn't be able to handle your attention, so he avoids it, but a part of him wants to get caught and outed for his perverted, stalker ways. he wants to hear you cuss him out and degrade him. he wants to see the disgusted look on your face as he is exposed for everything he did. spit on him, kick him, treat him like vermin, he doesn't mind. he gets off on the thought of you punishing him. he has a particular fantasy where your punishment for him is by tying him up and overstimulating him until he is crying, whimpering, and almost fainting. but he would still beg for more. no matter how long it lasts. it could be a week long and he still wouldn't be satisfied.

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, fantasy au

gn reader

Thinking about hunter Gojo and the pretty little nymph that gets themselves snared in one of his traps.

You can’t get your poor leg loose, having twisted your ankle in your fall to the ground – something’s wrong with your wing too, you can feel it – the thin network’s been folded, almost broken – so even if you did manage getting loose, you wouldn’t be able to fly away.

Branches snap around you along the crunch of old leaves – and your heart’s beating out of your chest in fear of it – knowing something large and dangerous is not far behind, that whoever set the trap is not something that wishes you well.

“You’re not a rabbit.” The man says, having crept in close before you’d even heard him approach – crouching in front of you with a hunter's grace. Hawk-eyes ice-blue and piercing, hair as white as pure snow.

He’s got three daggers sleaved in his belt – a fillet knife, a gutting knife, and a larger one you imagine is meant to slice throats. He doesn’t carry a sword like most men but has a bow and sack of arrows slung on his back. Otherwise, dressed lightly – brown leather boots, brown slacks, and a blue cotton shirt. You could have mistaken him for a woodland elf if it weren’t for the thick stench of man.

“Eating creatures from the holy forest is forbidden.” You snip, despite your wide eyes and the wobble of fear evident on your lip.

He only smiles at the quip, a grin like a predator humored by prey. “You wouldn’t tell a wolf not to hunt.”

He stalks you, leaning in closer, and you try shuffling away – but the movement only makes you wince.

“I’m just another hungry animal…”

Rope gnaws into your fine skin while his breath puffs hot and dewy on your face.

“And tonight… seems lady luck has favored me once again.”

He gags you and ties you further up before redoing his snare for the next unlucky creature – then carries you over his shoulder until he’s dropping you down on a bed of furs.

Your skin flushes with goosebumps at the thought of being skinned the same way – mouthing a little prayer around the cloth he’s split your teeth and lips with. He’s cut trees down as well; you hear their pitiful screams when he lights a fire with their bodies. You mourn them, too.

At his full height, the man must be two heads taller than any male nymph you’ve ever seen and at least three heads taller than you. You hope you’re enough to satisfy him tonight, to spare the forest of further bloodshed.

You shiver and sniffle when he starts prepping you – removing your clothes and groping your tender, fleshy places with a strength you’re not used to – hands large and crass – kneading you like dough – probably to assess the quality of your meat. He has a smile on his face while at it. 

Humans make you sick – to think he’s planning on roasting then eating you despite the soul fueling your spirit and the beating heart in your chest. But you’ve long known that all death but their own matters little to them – they don’t feel the same way nymphs do – they don’t regard life with the same respect they’ve donned themselves. It must be a sad and lonely existence, you think. It even makes you feel a little sorry for him.

You yelp when his gritty fingers brush the area between your legs – shimmying when he lowers his mouth down to the same place. Oh God – does he plan on eating you raw? While your body’s still hot and pumping blood?

But the bite never comes – not yet eating but tasting it would seem – licking and slurping and sucking on you.

He takes his shirt off. Probably to avoid spilling on it, you think.

You don’t really understand what’s going on until he’s got his fat manhood pointed toward your kernel-sized hole. Eyes wide as he splits you apart slowly and unabashedly – as though it isn't as deviant as a dog mating a cat – sinking in inch after meaty inch.

You whimper at the stretch – wincing when the plush mushroom-shaped head grinds against that special place inside you. 

It doesn’t fit more than halfway, but that doesn’t seem to bother him – rolling his head back with a rusty groan, even with just the tip gaining purchase within you – pounding into you like a beast in his rut.

“What's the matter, pretty nymph? Did you think I was gonna eat you?” He laughs, bearing over you – his hands steadying your hips to meet his sharp thrust – each hit deeper than the last. “I’m the only hunter in this forest; I can eat what I want when I want – but eating you?” He scoffed and snickered. “That would just be a waste.”

The blood on his breath makes you wrinkle your nose – squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue sweeps up the tear streaks on your cheek.

“My stomach’s already full. Time to empty my balls.”

[httpsserene]

Hiiii

I just got done reading your masterpiece with the Austrian bread and got an idea.

What about the making of Aussie kids? Reader would have a baby fever and Toto would immediately be like ‘let’s make one’ and reader would cry out ‘ but I’m on birth control’

Pure chaos and smut

Sending positive vibes

𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 - 𝐭. 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐟

𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

summary: don’t bake a man’s favorite bread unless you want to have his kids. it’s a good thing you’re desperate to do exactly that. content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. kitchen sex. pregnancy kink. baby fever. unprotected sex. vaginal sex. creampie. implied masturbation. implied age gap. reader and toto are married. breeding kink (i guess)? birth control. actual pregnancy. beta read by @biancathecool pairing: toto wolff x fem!black!reader genre: written fic (1.8k words).

from serene: here’s the part two to toasty, i hope it satisfies the requests i got for this! i personally don’t understand the thirst some of you have for toto but, i do respect it. maybe one day i’ll see what y’all do or somebody can educate me on it but, i do hope y’all are pleased with this one xxx

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A switch has been flipped in your brain—you’ve become more than insatiable for your husband. After he railed you on the counter for making his favorite bread, baking has become your entire personality. The way Toto looked at you after he tried your first attempt at an authentic pumpernickel bread changed how your brain fires. The mix of love and lust that filled his gaze had awoken an innate instinct within you: you need to have this man’s babies.

You’ve always claimed to be an independent woman, your dream was never to become a man’s accessory, or housewife, or tradwife. But, for Toto? For the way he looked at you as he had his first taste of your pastry? You’d set feminism back for a hundred years to keep getting fucked like that for the rest of your life. You spent an ungodly amount of money (Toto’s money) on baking utensils and you’ve pretty much been running a bakery out of your kitchen. Every few hours you’re shoving a pastry down your husband’s throat, eagerly awaiting his praise for each creation you seem to bake perfectly. 

Off-handedly around a mouthful of cinnamon sugar knots you baked, Toto moaned at the dessert melting on his tongue, seemingly in a daze when he murmured, “I’m going to get you pregnant if you keep baking like this.”

You laughed at his unexpected outburst, brushing it off as Toto hyperbolizing how great the dessert was. However, it was like the words infected your brain–every waking hour, you constantly thought about having his kids. And it didn’t help that once Toto heard you set a timer for the oven, he’d be tearing your clothes off and fucking you on the nearest surface. The kitchen island is a favorite, but there was an instance where he took you on the floor. Afterward, he claimed to be too old for sex on tiled floors, but you were too busy imagining growing a baby in your belly to care.

The severity of your baby fever is only realized when you reach into your nightstand to take your birth control and...you hesitate. You’re on the last week of pills, you should message your clinic to get a refill. Imagine a child, a mixture of you and Toto. And, you’re aware that pregnancy can be rough but you’d finally be able to decorate that spare room into a nursery instead of letting it collect dust. A baby; a combination of your best halves. Would they have your deeper skin tone, or Toto’s height, or your curls, or his nose, or your eyes? You could have your baby cradled to your chest as you bake for your husband, their father—

“Schatz?” Toto calls in question from his side of the bed, eyes concerned through the lens of his glasses, “You froze, are you okay?”

You shake the thoughts from your head, the smile you give him is slightly strained. You complete the monotonous motion of swallowing tonight’s allocated contraception with a sip of water. Tossing the packet back in the drawer, you speak, “Yes, I’m fine. I just realized that I need to order more birth control.”

His eyes examine your expression for a moment before he nods and offers a simple, “Hm.” in response. Toto fixed his eyes back on the book in front of him, and you ignore the disappointment that burns in your chest. Sighing mutely, you grab your phone and request a refill in your clinic’s online portal.

The next morning you’re awoken by Toto sweetly petting you awake, his thumb tracing lightly along your cheekbone. He murmurs an apology as he reveals that he’s going to be trapped in the home office today with back-to-back meetings concerning the looming Formula One season. You pouted even while you nodded your understanding, pleading for a kiss before you lost his attention for the day, which Toto happily divulged.

You busy yourself, prepping Toto’s favorite pastry and setting it to bake in the oven as early as possible. As a caring wife, you prepare meals for him and slip into his room to deliver them knowing he would forget to eat if you didn't remind him. You make sure his coffee never runs low, even if you switched to decaf after the second mug—he shouldn’t have too much caffeine at his age, you’d like to grow old with him eventually. To your dismay, Toto did not lie about being locked in the office. He was sequestered within those four walls well past sunset and as a result, you’ve produced enough baked goods in your free time to power the entire Mercedes factory for a week.

“I think we are going to have to discuss a limit for how many things you can bake in a day, schatz,” your husband sounds from the kitchen entryway, an awe-filled look on his face as he sees the bakery you’ve created. 

“The pumpernickel bread is still baking—would you like a cinnamon roll instead? Or a chocolate chip cookie? Or could I interest you in a slice of apple pie?”

You’re well aware that your curls are a mess in the loosely fastened bun dangling low on your head, you probably have streaks of flour and other various baking ingredients on your face mirroring the dirty surface of your apron. The unhinged baker aesthetic you’ve suddenly adopted is pulled together by the wide grin splayed across your lips. 

“I could eat all three,” Toto hums, his eyes darkening as he approaches you in the kitchen, fingers rushing to untie your apron, “—If you can help me work up an appetite.”

Various baked goods are shoved out of the way to make space for you to be bent over the island. Your flushed brown skin is cooled by the marble surface, nipples hardening quickly at the temperature but, it doesn’t stop you from spreading your legs and helping Toto tug your panties to the side underneath your skirt. He’s quick to press a finger within your entrance and pauses when the slide is too easy.

You squirm desperately, whining when Toto halts your hips from rocking backward on his hand.

“Schatz,” Toto murmurs, his free hand palming at your ass, “Did you—”

“Yes!” You cut him off, stomping at the delay, “I got bored waiting for things to bake—I’m ready, just fuck me.”

Thankfully, Toto is quick to listen to you and substitute his finger for his cock, his slacks unzipped enough to pull himself out. At the stretch, your eyes roll back and you lose the strength to hold your head up, letting it fall to press against the cool marble. You feel your husband still his hips but you reach your hand backward to grasp at his pressed dress shirt, using your grip to tug him forward, a non-verbal cue for him to keep sinking into you. He curses lowly and leans downward to rest his head on the back of your neck, pressing the remaining few inches inside.

Twin moans of pleasure are exhaled into the kitchen, Toto’s hands move to hold your waist, his clasp on your skin tight, reflecting the force he’s mustering to refrain from fucking into you without your approval. The burn from his girth fades quickly replaced by the feeling of fullness you’ve become addicted to. You roll your hips softly, moaning shakily at the drag of his length within you and Toto meets your rhythm smoothly. 

He fucks into you deeply, grunting on every other thrust in, you feel the breath of his chuckle ghost across your back when you fall limp in his hands; he’s well aware that you enjoy sitting pretty and taking what he gives you. Your cunt clings to his cock, the plush heat trying its hardest to disallow Toto from exiting, urging him to stay buried inside of you as he scrapes directly over your most sensitive points. 

Your husband straightens himself upright, pressing you firmly down on the counter with a hand in the middle of your back, his other hand slipping around to rest on your navel while keeping your hips angled upward for a better angle.

His thrusts become rougher and you can only scramble to hold on to the island, hands slipping from the sweat accumulated on your palms and skin. Your mouth is parted, drooling from the corner of your lip, chest heaving as you struggle to breathe through his thrusts, moans and gasps punched out of your chest, his cock hardened and pulsing within you, and your curls bouncing out of your bun and sticking to your back and forehead from the heat.

Toto’s hand presses into your belly, and he pants lowly, “You feel me right in here—I’m going to put a baby in you, schatz.”

You shudder in his arms, eyelids fluttering as you struggle to reply, and you swear you feel yourself become wetter at the image your husband planted in your mind.

“You can’t,” you whine out roughly, whimpering as the force of his thrusts rocks you up across the island, the ledge digging into your hips, “ah—’m on birth control!”

He grunts dismissively, patting his hand on your belly as his rough thrusts are exchanged for deep grinds, hitting places that send tantalizing rushes of pain along with pleasure up your spine, “Okay,” Toto huffs, “Stop taking it.”

You mean to ask clarifying questions, but he doesn’t let you get a word in as he continues to ramble about getting you pregnant.

“Fuck, I’m going to give you a baby, yes?” “—Going to be so pretty carrying our child.” “You’ll be such a good mum.”

The last one pushes you over the edge harshly, your nerves burning at the white-hot flash of pleasure, the sounds of Toto following you muffled to your ears as your orgasm floods your senses. You feel a dampness on your cheeks and it takes Toto wiping it away to realize you’re crying. His hips continue to slowly grind deeply within you, his cum painting your walls, and he pulls you upwards to press your lips together.

“You were serious,” your voice cracks embarrassingly as you moan the words into Toto’s lips, “About the birth control?”

“Yes,” your husband answers confidently, his words supported by a firm thrust of his cock that makes your eyes roll and body shiver, “If that’s what you want, of course.”

You hum, pleased at his response, “You need to remind me to call the clinic tomorrow to cancel my refill order.”

Toto grumbles incoherently, more concerned with toying with your nipples and kissing along your collarbone, “Yes, schatz—can you go again? I want to put a baby in you as quickly as possible. You would look so beautiful with a bump, no?”

5 weeks later you run out of the bathroom and leap into your husband's arms, brandishing a positive pregnancy test wildly. 

You laugh gleefully, tears of joy forming in your waterline, “I guess both of us are bakers now!”

“What?” Toto offers confused, trying to still your arm to grab the test.

“Both of us are bakers now! You put a bun in my oven!”

© httpsserene2024

[satoruxx]

stubble toji but u squeal when he eats u out

had to take a minute to breath nonnie bc oh my god

stubble toji is insufferable with it too, because he knows how you normally react when he's pressing the rough texture of his jaw against your skin. god knows he'll take advantage of it in every possible situation.

taunts like crazy, saying things like "what's wrong, doll? still hate the feelin'?” even as his hands grip your thighs and spread them apart. you scoff, cheeks practically on fire as you look down at his smug grin.

"quit teasing, toji."

he just chuckles throatily, chin brushing over the skin of your inner thigh just barely, and he mentally notes the way you shiver at the feeling.

toji already drives himself crazy when he eats you out, mostly because the choked moans and whines that he can pull from you with a skillful flick of his tongue has his pride singing.

but when you squeal in between your gasps, caught off guard by the rough sensation in between his licks—that is a different high all together.

he groans against your skin when you do, stubble pressing deep against it as he suckles at your clit eagerly.

the sound, quite literally, goes straight to your core.

“ah fuck baby, that’s it,” he grunts, fingers tightening around your thighs in a way you know will leave marks. he deliberately presses his jaw into you when he can, eyes hooded as he hears the sound it pulls from you. “feel good, huh?”

“uh huh—” you nod eagerly, unable to stop your hips from bucking into his tongue as he teases your clit and laps up your juices. “so good.”

an evil smirk as he pulls back, chin glistening and eyes satisfied. “thought you always whine about how my stubble is too scratchy.”

“it is,” you huff—adamant. “you’re always tormenting me with it.”

“don’t hear you complaining now,” he murmurs—smug. his lips find your clit again, sucking and licking until your vision goes hazy. “still want me to shave?”

you’ve never said no quicker in your life.

[driverlando]

🏎️ oscar holding your legs down and pressing his hand on your stomach when he’s eating you out so you can’t squirm or squeeze your legs around his head because he wants you to take it

here you go lovie!

—

The room was filled with a comfortable silence, the kind that envelops two people who are completely at ease with each other. The glow from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows on the walls, adding to the intimate atmosphere. You lay on the bed, heart racing with anticipation as Oscar stood at the foot of it, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

Oscar’s public shyness was endearing, but in these private moments, he transformed into someone else entirely—confident, commanding, and irresistibly alluring. He slowly crawled onto the bed, his hands gliding over your thighs with a tenderness that belied the heat in his gaze.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice a deep, soothing rumble.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, the anticipation making your body hyperaware of every touch, every movement. Oscar’s lips quirked into a small smile, his eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself between your legs.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs, each touch sending shivers of pleasure through your body. Your instinct was to squirm, to close your legs around him and pull him closer, but Oscar had other plans.

“Stay still for me,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

You tried to obey, but the sensation was overwhelming. Oscar’s tongue flicked out, tracing a slow, deliberate path that made you moan softly. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more contact, more of his touch.

Oscar’s hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly. “I said, stay still,” he repeated, his tone a mix of authority and patience. His hands slid up your body, one hand resting on your stomach, pressing down gently but firmly. The pressure was grounding, a reminder of his control.

He resumed his ministrations, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony. Each movement was calculated to drive you wild, to push you to the edge and keep you there. The pressure of his hand on your stomach intensified the sensation, making every touch feel even more powerful.

You could feel the tension building, your body trembling with the effort to stay still. Every nerve ending was on fire, every touch sending sparks of pleasure through you. Oscar’s grip tightened, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin as he worked.

“Don’t move,” he commanded softly, his voice a dark promise. “I want you to take it all.”

You whimpered, your hands clutching the sheets as you fought to obey. The sensation was almost too much, your body aching with need. But Oscar’s firm touch, his steady presence, kept you grounded, kept you focused.

His mouth was relentless, his tongue flicking and swirling in a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge. The pressure of his hand on your stomach kept you pinned, unable to escape the intense pleasure. You could feel the orgasm building, a tight coil of desire winding tighter and tighter.

“Oscar,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I can’t… it’s too much…”

“You can,” he replied, his voice filled with determination. “You’re going to take it for me. Every bit of it.”

His words sent a thrill through you, his dominance a potent aphrodisiac. You surrendered completely, letting go of any semblance of control. Oscar’s touch was everything, his hands and mouth guiding you to a place of pure ecstasy.

The coil inside you snapped, and you cried out, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Oscar didn’t let up, his mouth working you through every wave of pleasure, drawing out your release until you were a trembling, breathless mess beneath him.

Only when he was satisfied did he finally pull back, his eyes dark with desire and pride. He moved up your body, his hands gentle as he cradled your face, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “So beautiful, so perfect.”

You lay there, panting and spent, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. Oscar’s touch had been commanding, almost overwhelming, but it was also filled with a deep care and tenderness. The contrast between his public shyness and private dominance was intoxicating, leaving you craving more of his touch, more of his control.

He held you close, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin, as you slowly fell into a deep slumber.

[vivalarevolution]

𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓞𝓴𝓪𝔂 𝓣𝓸 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓱

Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen Reader x Cregan Stark

Summary: War emerged from the shadows like an old friend, but apart from the war, there were also matters from the past that created new, unknown and dangerous affairs for her, so sinful and so forbidden. And this time she couldn't escape, getting trapped in between seahorse and a wolf.

A/N: A refreshed version of the story , that I really think is one of the better ones I've ever written. I hope you will like it , enjoy it and find it worth reading.

Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.

The work contains smut, so minors do not interact with it.

The north was cold, full of ice and snow, and the northern people were even colder. Their eyes gave the shivers, and the low and rough tone of voice made silence the only thing that escaped from the lips of strangers.

But he, Lord of Winterfell, though he seemed to be the same, was the opposite of it all.

Cregan Stark was a wolf in human skin. A man who could bend thousands with just a single glance of his gray irises. He was like fire itself, dangerous and burning under her fingers. He was vicious and wild, devouring her flesh every night, never being satisfied, always wanting more and more until there was nothing left to give.

-Cregan - she moaned into his neck, her nails creating patterns on his back that covered the old ones, not yet healed.

-Feels good, princess? - he purred into her ear, sucking on its lobe, only to kiss it after , feeling her soft skin become covered with goosebumps.

-Oh Cregan - she whimpered, unable to say anything else, repeating his name like a prayer.

The man grabbed her thighs in response, lifting her legs up, letting her ankles rest on his shoulders, gliding his lips over the flesh of her calves, moving his loins deeply and slowly, taking her breath away as she felt the head of his member kissing her cervix again and again ,mixing pain and pleasure together.

-It's so sweet...addictive when you say my name like a prayer - he murmured, lowering his face over hers, rubbing his lips against her full , soft and red, almost swollen ones - It only makes me want to devour you like a hungry wolf and make you mine forever.

-Yes, yes ... only yours - she whispered ,tangling her fingers in the man's brown hair, pulling them again and again, trying to touch his lips, even for a moment - Oh Cregan, please, please! - she moaned directly into his mouth, her lavender irises covered with a robe of crystal tears, threatening to flow out.

-How can I say no to you ,my little dragon? - Cregan asked, moving his hips so brutally and animalistic, contrasting with the controlled movements of his hands that pinned her to the bed, commanding her to take everything, not letting her escape - Take everything I give you, that's right, good girl - he growled like a hungry enraged wolf, making her fall apart before his eyes.

Woman felt as if something had crept into her veins and made her body a shell filled with lust and desire, nothing more. Her muscles went limp, almost non-existent, and her eyes closed embraced in a soothing darkness.

The man's hands were still moving, marking her skin with an electrifying sensation that made her open her eyes, to open her mouth and let his tongue out, to let the wolf prey.

-Cregan - she said quietly so that the only one who could've heard her was the man she mentioned - Kiss me, kiss me again.

Brunet bowed his head, brushing her soft, delicate lips with his, fulfilling her wish.

-You make me a hungry man. Never wanting to stop, never going to stop - he murmured, tasting her again and again, mixing their breaths together.

-No... don't say that - she moaned, feeling his hands on her sensitive breasts, trying to recapture the bit of consciousness that began to ebb away with each movement of his fingers and each kiss of his hot lips.

-That's the truth. I could never lie to you, I can only tell you the truth when I look at you - he panted, attacking her once flawless neck, which was now full of red marks and bites - You have bewitched me, my body and mind and I can't lie. No matter how much you want to hear a lie from my lips.

You have bewitched me. My body and mind.

Those words, she's heard those words before. They echoed in her head, only to sink to the bottom of her stomach, creating a knot so unbearable and painful that she wanted to scream and cry in pain.

-We are enemies...out there, we are enemies to each other - she remarked listlessly, focusing her violet eyes on the snowy window.

-Yet here we're lovers. In my arms you are my beloved, not my enemy - he replied directly to her ear, tenderly kissing the left side of her face.

-When I return to King's Landing and announce the decision of Lord of Winterfell...you will become ... only an enemy - she confessed, after a moment leveling her eyes with him.

Cregan stared intently into her pupils, black as the abyss, drawing him in.

-You are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires. Night and day, I dream of you - the man announced and the woman knew every word was sincere, every blink of his grey eyes ,every breath taken during his confession - So when you come back I'll be on the other side fighting to tear you away from the clutches you were born into but didn't want to live. You will be my lover my princess, never my enemy.

Days later, their conversation seemed non-existent. However, in truth, she was forgotten and hidden deep in the darkness by a woman who did not want to remember it, preferring to live in the bliss of unconsciousness. But life was cruel and was not about to let Y/n Targaryen rest, stabbing the princess's heart with long thorns of memories that flooded her like a flood as her eyes saw a familiar figure and heard a voice she once adored.

-I came here as a messenger, not a warrior - he announced and the woman didn't even know who these words were addressed to, for what purpose they were uttered but she didn't care, all she wanted to know was whether it was an illusion.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.

It seemed to her that he was standing so close to her, even though in truth he was so far away, but his brown eyes still spotted her in the darkness that surrounded her, no matter how much she tried to hide in it , no matter how she was trying to escape him. He caught her anyway ,right under the noses of the old gods.

-Let go of me - she said as his arms wrapped around her, trapping her inside of them.

-What are you doing here Y/n? Why are you here? - he asked, looking at her, his hands tightening on her body as soon as she moved harder than before.

-I'm delivering a message from my brother. Just as you doing with the message from your mother, my sister - she confessed, looking at him.

Jacaerys released her as if her words were burning, but he didn't let her go. Caging her in the form of his eyesight and body that blocked out everything but him, forcing her to focus only on the young man before her.

-Why? - he asked calmly, sounding almost hurt.

-Why? - she repeated his question, not understanding the meaning of his words, not when they were both now standing on opposite sides of the barricade as enemies - We are at war Jacaerys. There is too late to ask questions , too late to think what if.

They both fell quiet abruptly, letting the silence creep in between them, devouring them from the inside out , and none of them said anything, only staring into the eyes of the other.

-I know this war is real but I don't want to believe that in this war you chose your brother... instead of me - he confessed surprisingly quietly, surprisingly coldly.

-What was between us... it was just an illusion we lived in - Y/n replied, feeling the lump in her throat grow as her heart throbs with pain and her veins flood with anger.

-We decided to love each other - said the brunette, getting closer to the girl, more and more - It was a choice, our choice - he whispered, running his fingers along her cheekbone.

-But it was your choice to make me a woman you could love in the dark but never in the light of day. You've made promises to me before, and like a fool, I believed them. I won't be your fool again - she said firmly, pushing his hand away from her face.

-It was never my intention - he confessed quietly, trying to match her gaze, but she ran away every time - I wanted you, only you.

The white-haired woman shook her head, not believing any of his words and not wanting to listen further.

-Yet you swore to marry Baela. In front of my eyes you chose her over me - Y/n gritted her teeth, voice as cold as ice - Where was your love then, where is it now? There's a woman waiting for you, a woman who have feelings for you, and you're chasing the one you can't have.

Instead of answering, Jacaerys unexpectedly pinned her to a tree behind them, his body clinging to her like a puzzle piece, and his own hands wrapped around the hers.

-I'll always choose you - he announced, inches from her face, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers.

-Don't say that - she whispered, finally leveling her gaze with him - Don't say that. Don't say that, becasue I didn't ask for it. I didn't ask to be plagued by these feelings.

Y/n felt her heart being torn in half, allowing the memories to creep in. But then she remembered the gray irises that soothed her soul, gave her the longed-for oblivion, the hands that protected her and the voice that put her to sleep in the middle of the night.

And yet, she was no longer able to keep everything Jacaerys had once been to her, who he still was - a lover, a rock, a soulmate.

So she let it all in, let the pain tear her from inside, making her throat burn from how much she was forcing herself not to cry, and her eyes glazed almost like glass.

Brunet wanted to touch her, comfort her, but he let her escape from his embrace, letting her disappear into the depths of Godswood. Unaware that Lord Winterfell had been watching their close interaction, revealing a secret he was never meant to discover.

The night came quickly, and in the night came coldness that attacked every bone in her body. But the truth was that it wasn't the cold that was causing it but the feelings that hadn't left her for hours, taunting her.

Her lavender-colored eyes stared at the wildly dancing flames that warmed her face, giving it an orange glow, while one hand lazily glided between the fires until the door to her chamber swung open, causing her to be plucked from the ocean of thoughts, returning to the surface ,to the reality.

Cregan watched her like a wild wolf, wild as well as great, towering over the passage, blocking her only escape route.

With a look that said he knew. He knew something.

-The past can be painful - she said, her face was emotionless, but her eyes hid all the secrets that were in her - Love comes and goes like a gust of wind or a wave on the sea. I believe you know it, you loved and you lost... - she noticed reminding him of the woman who once held his heart, now she was its owner.

-We both loved and lost - he said, approaching her agonizingly slowly - And we both found love where we didn't want to look, in the arms of another - he added, kneeling in front of her, cupping her chin with his hand, stroking the smooth skin of her face with his thumb - But you my dragon , you have the opportunity to regain something that was once taken from you. I will never have that opportunity.

She wished meaning behind his words was unknown to her, but when her eyes saw Jacaerys standing by the door, hidden in the shadows just like she had been so long ago, looking at her as intensely, as passionately as he had during their affair, she knew her secret ceased to be a secret and became the truth that came to light.

-What if I don't want to? - she asked, looking straight at her nephew, wanting to see how he would react to her words - What if choosing the past makes me lose you? - she remarked more quietly, shifting her violet eyes to Lord of Winterfell.

Cregan looked at the younger brunet but it was only a moment, as if there was no need to talk between them, as if everything that was happening was planned.

-I saw your pain. I don't want to see it ever again - he announced, stroking the skin on her cheek, but her eyes still expressed uncertainty, hesitation - It's okay to love something you can't explain, it's okay to love us both princess.

-Just say the word - Jacaerys whispered right into her ear, and she turned her face towards him to almost meet his full lips in a kiss, surprised that he was right behind her ,without her knowing.

Y/n felt like she couldn't breathe, like something had crushed her lungs, preventing her from taking a breath, but as soon as she let out the first words, everything let go, the ropes were cut and the walls fell down.

-Never leave me again - she said to the boy before connecting their lips in a deep, longing kiss, tangling her slender fingers in his thick, dark curls.

She could feel the closeness of Cregan on her spine as he slid the white fabric of her nightgown off her shoulders, brushing her hair from her neck to kiss the skin in the hollow of it. His mouth was hot and possessive, completely different from Jacaerys's soft ones.

The northerner's hand slid down her body, engulfing her womanhood hidden behind the thin material of her underwear, making her whimper into her second lover's mouth as Cregan's rough fingers slid between her legs.

Y/n tried to focus on her breathing as two pairs of hands freed her from her clothes, soon to be kneeling naked between them, feeling vulnerable as their gaze devoured her.

-So wet - Lord of Winterfell muttered, playing with her puffy folds, coating his fingers in the juices that spilled from inside of her.

-So sweet , just for us - Jace said, sliding his hand down her neck, resting his lips on her jaw, planting sensual kisses there.

-Just for you ,both of you - she whispered, feeling herself falling into a state of blissful erotic drunkenness.

-You'll gonna feel us for weeks in your little pussy - Cregan added, slipping his finger into her center , rubbing against her bum.

The younger man kissed her again, his hand still on her neck, squeezing it every time she took a breath into her lungs, while the northerner continued to assault flower of her womanhood, making her leak on her inner thighs. Her abdomen burned with lust.

-You'll be good to us, won't you? - Jacaerys panted heavily into her mouth.

Girl nodded, no longer able to find her voice. Her toes curled from how close she was , how close she was to be pushed over the edge, but just as she was about to fall, all movements stopped.

-You won't cum until we say - Cregan said with a trace of malice in his voice, licking her juices from his fingers - You've been hiding your affairs form both of us. You deserve a punishment.

Both men stood up as she sat on her knees, naked before their eyes, letting them savor the sight of her fair skin.

Her attention was focused on Cregan while Rhaenyra's son was busy with his pants.

Her hand slid up and down his erection, squeezing him here and there , while her thumb stroked the vein on the side of his thick member and  the head, smearing his precum to use as lubricant.

-Aren't you forgetting something little dragon? - Lord of Winterfell asked with a low growl, forcing her to turn to Jacaerys. His manhood, erected, pointed directly at her red lips, waiting. Its top shone with a transparent substance and Y/n leaned closer to lick it while her small hand continued to run along Cregan's shaft.

Taking Jace into her mouth, she pressed her tongue against his member as he slid down her throat. His long fingers tangled between her white curls, pulling at the roots just enough to make her whimper softly, and the vibrations traveled through his shaft to his spine, causing his head to drop with a groan.

-Just like that, good girl - Cregan murmured, her stomach jumping at his words and her chest spread with warmth.

Her thumb traced slow, enticing circles around the northern man's head before she slipped the other lover's member out of her mouth, focusing now on the wolf, kissing the tip of his manhood and licking it from the base. She felt his body twitch under her fingers as she swallowed him, running her hand over the part she couldn't reach.

-You're doing so well my love - Jacaerys praised her, pressing her head into Cregan's member until she choked.

When the young woman felt she was no longer controlled by the hand on her head, she pulled away from both men, taking in air into her lungs, panting breathlessly.

-Come on princess, let the wolf get a taste - the older brunette said, reaching out to pull her up and then kiss her as she stood in front of them.

The kiss was messy, wild, making her cheeks covered in saliva and precum.

-On the bed - Jace broke the kiss abruptly, grabbing the nape of her neck to make her look at him, slapping her left asscheek and striking it again as he felt her soft body tremble at his touch.

-Spread your legs, little dragon - Cregan said, standing beside the prince while she lay down on the furs in front of them - Show us what is ours.

Y/n propped her legs up on the bed, opening herself up.

-Play with yourself - sounded the next command and the girl didn't even know who said it, being clouded with desire.

A finger glided up and down her wet and swollen folds with ease, and her body quickly began to tremble as she ran it over her clit, circling the sensitive nub.

-Put those pretty fingers inside your pussy - came the next words, in a low and menacing tone that sounded almost animal-like.

Moving her hand down to her center, she did as she was told. Her hips met the movements of her hand as she moved, trying to find her sweet spot, meowing miserably every time when she failed.

-Faster - Cregan said - Come on, show us how pretty you look when you cum.

Playing with her like this, telling her what to do with her burning womanhood made her cum with tears in her eyes, and a feeling of her legs shake intensely. And before her senses could have return to her, Jacaerys laid down next to her, pulling Y/n against his warm, muscular body for her to wrap her legs around his waist in response, pressing her breasts against his chest as his big member rubbed against her puffy clitoris.

-I need to feel you around me - he murmured, grabbing her hips, rubbing her against his manhood, watching her release drip onto his shaft.

At the thought, the young woman could feel her walls tightening and her heart involuntarily jumping into her throat. And when he entered her, stretching her walls that he almost tearing her apart, it made her moan loudly, burying her face in his neck.

Cregan, however, gave her no time to adjust to her other lover, unable to help himself as her femininity struggled to take the prince all inside her, leaving a ring of white ,creamy substance behind.

Y/n felt the bed sink behind her, and soon the northernman's member entered her wet ,tight canal, leaving her breathless. Mixing pleasure with pain.

-You're doing so well , my good girl - said Lord of Winterfell, kissing her bare shoulder blades, covering them with bites and red marks - You taking us both so good ,aren't you? Your sweet pussy was made for us - his voice, though low and dangerous, trembled here and there as her walls tightened around the two members.

Her face was wet with tears and saliva as they mercilessly pounded her cervix. Their hands were all over her body, holding her in place as they feasted on her body, and all she could do was moan and mewl, taking everything they were giving her.

-She's so drunk on the feeling - Jacaerys said, watching her expression , when his lips weren't attacking her skin.

-It's so easy to break our little dragon - the older brunette added, pushing his hips out, grabbing her bum - But she looks so beautiful when she's broken, making me never want to stop.

Woman felt her body flooded with a wave of hot flames, which made her walls tighten, stopping their movements almost completely, making both of them, unable to stop themselves, and cumming deep inside her, filling her to the full, while a pleasant familiar warmth flooded her lower body, flowing from her after a while, which made her tremble, falling helplessly onto Jacaerys' torso.

The smell of sex filled the air like an intoxicant that possessed their minds that were already clouded with lust.

And so the seahorse and the wolf feasted on the white-haired dragon. Over and over and again , never wanting to stop.

[peachesofteal]

Cool girl

ghoap x female reader / 18+ warning: the boys are foul - could be considered dub con / part one / part two

Two (three) can play at that game.

"When you're done being a brat, call us."

You decide within a week, that you're very much not done being a brat.

And you're very much done with them.

Fuck them, you coach yourself in the mirror as you fix your makeup. Fuck them both. And her, whoever she is, though you know she doesn't deserve your wrath. She probably has no idea the tangled web she's walked into, she's the one stuck in the trap, now.

The doorbell rings, and you check your reflection one more time, satisfied with your dress, the way it gathers across your breasts, how it flatters your shape. It's a tad short, there's a bit of cleavage, little pieces that make it more than perfect. Something about this style, the way it fits, always drove the boys nuts, so it should be more than good enough for your date.

Fuck them.

You bring him to the dive. It's a safe choice, the bartender knows you, pays attention. You feel safe here, familiar. It's a great option for a first date.

And because you're a cool girl, you don't know how to play pool.

Of course, he's happy to teach you.

You start with a tequila. It scalds on the way down and settles like fire, but it takes the edge off. One turns to two, and it's enough to get you closer, allowing him to rest his hand on your knee at the bar, allowing him to keep a hand at the small of your back as he guides you to the finally empty pool table.

He's handsy, and normally, you'd be a little put off.

But not tonight.

"Okay, it's simple. You use the white ball to break." He lines up your shot for you, folding you into place, bending forward, hand brushing against your thigh as he leans beside you.

You intentionally short the shot, barely breaking the triangle of balls free. He chuckles. "Not bad for a first go."

"What do I get if I win?" Your smile is shy, and it's only half forced. You do like this guy, he's very nice, very attractive. Tall with a strong jawline, kind eyes. His fingers find yours, and his touch is gentle, patient.

"A kiss?" He ventures, testing the waters. You nod.

"Sure thing."

You're halfway through the game when the energy in the bar shifts. It's like everyone freezes, a collective whoosh of air washing through the bodies hunched over at the bar, loitering on the walls, perched on the wrought iron chairs out back.

The regulars look at one another and then return to studying the TV, or each other, their half empty drinks.

You don't need to look, to know.

You can feel them.

Apparently, so can your date.

"Don't look, but there are two guys staring at you, across the bar." You bat your eyelashes.

"Who?" It's innocent, this kind of play. Playing dumb. It's pure, until your chin turns over your shoulder and find them, white knuckled and focused, Johnny alight with anger, Simon stoic as ever. Sadness, and rage, roar inside your head, and you force yourself to look them in their eyes. Force yourself to be brave.

After a second, you turn away and into your date. He pulls you closer, palm resting on your lower back, mouth dangerously close above your ear. "Are they bothering you?" What a nice guy.

"No." You assuage immediately. You know what would happen, if he tried to be your knight in shining armor. You know how it would end.

With blood. Broken bones. And tears.

"Let's keep playing." You suggest. "Will you show me how to hold the stick?" Your teeth hold onto the last syllable, hand wrapping around the polished length of the wood, slowly moving it up and down. Your heart pounds, but a thrill rushes through you at the same time. Fuck them. Your date raises an eyebrow, mouth cocking into a sly smile, and nods.

After your third drink, you can't delay using the bathroom anymore. Skin tingling from all the places his hands have traversed, you're dizzy with the pulse of power, the high of your performance. It's wrong, and twisted but...

they deserve it. They deserve worse.

"I'll be right back." You promise, tracing a fingernail down his arm. "Get another round?" He trots off, eager to please.

The chairs scrape as soon as you turn into the dingy hallway, and their shadows fill the air, sucking it dry. You resist the urge to turn, palm flat against the swinging door of the toilets.

"What are ye doin'?" Johnny rages, and you turn to mouth off, only to jerk backwards at the realization of how close he is. You can count the flecks of gold around his irises, see the shimmer of cerulean blue. Simon stands at his back, a wall blocking out the rest of the hall, hiding you from view.

"I'm on a date." Simon laughs.

"You call this little show a date, sweetheart? Is that what you think that is?"

"Not sure you'd know what I'm like on a date since you never took me on one." You spit, and Johnny goes rigid, muscles hardening.

"Not sure that little boy would know the first thing about handlin' ye."

"Handling me?" The squeak your voice makes is embarrassing and incredulous at the same time. "Handle me? You think I need handling? I'm a full grown woman. I don't need-" He presses closer, close enough you can smell him, and your mouth drops open when he pushes you against the wall, cock hard under his jeans. "J-johnny."

"Aye, we think ye need handlin'. Ye're only supposed to be handled by us. Not by some sad wank who cannae stop droolin' like a dog."

"Stop." The resolve in your voice wavers, your resistance cracking and crumbling as Simon appears beside him, mouth pressing to your ear.

"You think that boy has a fat cock to feed you, sweet girl? Think he knows how-" One of them cups you between your legs over the fabric of your dress, palm grinding against your clit, and you grit your teeth against the friction, the moan it tries to pull from your throat. "to take care of this pussy?"

"She's high maintenance, ye know." Johnny snickers, lips dotting your cheek, down to your neck. He cups a fistful of your breast, thumb stroking where your nipple strains beneath your bra. "Ye think he'll be able to make ye gush for him? Make ye cum on his cock?" You're boiling, anger and desire feeding twin flames, trying to sputter out a response.

"What's going on here?" Your date practically shouts from the edge of the hallway, and Simon's grin turns feral. Predatory.

Fear strikes, and turns you cold.

"D-don't." You try to implore.

"Are you okay?" Your poor date catches your gaze, and you try to will him away with your eyes.

"Leave him alone." You plead.

"Fuck off mate. This is between us and our girl. Ye're done here."

"Excuse me?" He steps closer, and Simon pushes off the wall. Desperate, you latch onto his forearm.

"Simon, please. He's not-"

"He said you're done here." Simon snarls. "Run along like a good boy."

"Fuck you." He postures, and you shake your head frantically, trying to step out between them. Johnny doesn't budge, keeping you half pinned against the wall.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Maybe you'd like to watch us fuck her, after we make you beg for it. After we stretched out your neglected little hole." Johnny laughs, a cackle full of crow, smart and mischievous, and you nearly faint. Your date looks sick.

He takes one look at you, another look at the boys... and then flees. Johnny whistles. "Coward."

When they both turn back...

you burst into tears.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Lost In Paradise

Azriel x reader

a/n: I don’t know what the fuck overcame me when writing this—heads up they’re in the Day Court, by the way

Warnings: dear gods Azriel, Azriel in jewellery—diamond piercings to be precise, with kohl lined/smudged eyes, biting, oral (f receiving), smut, overstim, Azzie being a bit mischievous—implied orgasm denial, light wing play, light breeding kink

word count: 3,009

“We have a dinner to go to, Az,” you insist, inclining your chin as he noses along your throat, broad palms running slowly, reverently, up and down the bare skin of your back. Calloused and scarred hands rasping against the smooth, shimmery expanse of your skin, fingers touching along the knuckles of your spine.

“You’re a three course meal all on your own, pretty thing,” he murmurs beside the shell of your ear, gripping your waist lightly, letting his touch span across the sheer silk of your dress, marvelling at your feel, your shape beneath his hands—how finely you fit with him. 

Your pulse spikes at the flattery, heart beating quick in your chest, head tipping back as his lips press firmly to the small notch in your throat, kissing down to your collar bones, keeping you tight to his front, grip firm and unrelenting. “We’re guests,” you try faintly, already lost in his heaven, “it would be bad etiquette to not show up to the first meal—Az…!”

In one smooth motion he’s swept you off your feet, guiding your legs around his waist, thighs squeezing his hips while his palms appreciatively support your ass. “Bad etiquette would be not eating you out before I fuck you,” he drawls atop your mouth, a cocky smirk on his softened lips, staring down at you with his kohl-smudged eyes, diamonds swinging from his ears, the gold fastenings gleaming in the burning yellow sunset, setting the ocean on fire with molten metal as the sun melts atop the glistening waves. 

“Bad etiquette would be wasting a perfectly romantic evening for the sake of one measly dinner that we aren’t even required to attend,” he murmurs, that smug, self-satisfied look in his shining hazel eyes, flecks of amber and jade set alight through the refraction of the setting sun. Gleaming and swirling like they’re precious stones infinitely more valuable than even the tiny, glittering diamonds making up the jewellery adorning his marvellously handsome features. 

“You look good in Day Court attire,” you mumble breathlessly, clinging onto him as he walks you out onto the balcony, laying you down atop the pillowy, padded massage table, creamy fabric turned a perfectly-baked, golden-brown in the evening light, fitted over the cushions.

“You like how much skin it shows,” he drawls, palms settling either side of you, your hair splayed out from where he’s set you, strewn in lustrous glory against the pillow. “You like how easy it is to manoeuvre around.” 

Sure enough, with the soaring temperatures during a sun-filled day, with heat beating down upon the marble-carved pillars, the attire is perfectly suited for the arid climate. Clothing comes in light colours—mostly cream or off-white—and it contrasts the colour of his skin perfectly. The flush on his cheeks despite the cocky look highlights the hunger delightfully. And thanks to the opulent nature of the Court itself, it gives reason for your mate to wear some of the piercings he rarely adorns himself in for the sake of practicality. The ones you love—his ears the main focus, but with wandering hands your fingers clutch the hem of pale, heated linen, raising it from his toned stomach to reveal the incredibly self-indulgent piercing he’d gotten for his belly button, white diamonds set around the narrow golden band. 

“Gods you’re edible,” you pant, the shallow breaths having little to do with the heated evening and more to do with the hot and hungry look he’s pinning you with as he pulls the troublesome shirt off and over his head. His wings flexing and flaring now they’re rid of the fabric brushing the base of the great limbs. Showing off his well-endowed magnificence, as he should.

“Feel better about skipping that dinner now, pretty thing?” Azriel asks roughly, fingers catching the hem of your dress and swiftly pulling it out from under you, pushing it away further along the pale, padded table. “Maybe you had a point about my bad etiquette,” he drawls hotly, open palm coasting up your stomach, fingers grazing between your breasts. He leans over, dark silky hair flopping across your brow, kohl-rimmed eyes making the hazel of his irises simmer with the ravenous intensity of the setting sun, setting you ablaze. “I’ll be eating first.” 

“How brash,” you breathe, fingers dancing up the bare muscle of his upper arms, nails squeezing lightly at his shoulders, raking teasingly over his gloriously powerful back. He begins laying kisses to your collar bones, teeth nipping at your shimmering skin—you’d spent some time refreshing and making use of the scented, swirling lotions available—slowly trailing down between your breasts, tongue flicking over your nipples teasingly. “Weren’t you ever told not to play with your food?” 

“How can I resist when there’s such a beautiful meal before me? Taste is important but it’s more than that, wouldn’t you say?” Fingers hook beneath the golden strings at your hips, guiding them down your thighs as his mouth trails lower, kissing down your stomach. “I need to appreciate all of you. Not just with my mouth, but with my skin, and touch. How can I enjoy you without indulging all my senses?”

“All of them?” You question, back arching as he reaches your abdomen, fingers threading through his hair to encourage him closer. 

Azriel laughs, the sound coming from deep in his chest, splashing over your skin like melted butter and honey, bathing you in arousing sweetness. “All of them,” he whispers. 

“Sight.” Dark rimmed eyes flick upwards, licking over your form as he connects with you, lashes thick and heavy atop his gaze—equally heavy. 

“Smell.” He noses the intimate skin of your inner thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he parts your legs to make room for himself, your ass resting just at the edge of the cushioned table.

“Touch.” Fingers slip between your parted thighs, trailing up and down your centre, slicking himself in your wetness. Circling your clit twice before dipping back down. 

“Sound.” His thick digits slide in, a cocky smirk on his mouth as he curls them causing your back to arch, beckoning you forward, a heady moan spilling from your mouth as he pushes deeper, rubbing against spots he knows you like. 

“Would you like to tell me the fifth one?” Azriel drawls, dangerously low, arousal thickening his tone to something dark and syrupy. 

“Taste…” You breathe desperately. “Taste…Azriel!” 

“Good girl.” His lips curve in a sinful grin, diamonds twinkling their mirth as he lowers himself to your cunt. “You’ve earned it.” 

A rich, heady moan spills from your mouth as his tongue flattens over your clit, fingers working you with heavenly ease while his mouth remains at the apex of your thighs. It’s nothing short of paradise, floating high above in the clouds, nestled in a pillowy cushion as he bathes you in pleasure, rubbing it into you in ways that shouldn’t be permitted—how can something so good exist on this plane of reality?

Your head tips back into the cushioning, moans rising from your chest unabashedly, singing your pleasure with every curl of his fingers, every lovely flick of his tongue. The high approaches far faster than you ever would have expected, spine arching, grinding down on his mouth, hips swirling as he suckles at your clit, able to feel the impending high as your muscles brace for the powerful onslaught. 

You cry out as you come, nails raking through his hair, his wings flaring with male satisfaction as you orgasm, feeling you tighten and flutter around his thick fingers, clit pulsing as pleasure rapidly fires through your body, racing up and throughout your skin, spreading right to your fingertips. Your mouth opens as sound fails you, eyes squeezing shut, Azriel’s rough palms gripping your hips tight as you begin to squirm and writhe, seeking to crawl away from the pleasure—but he likes seeing you like this, and won’t allow it to end anywhere near prematurely. 

His forearm bands across your hips, pinning them down as you try to buck upward, forcing you through the aftershocks that have your body trembling, strength draining, leaving you powerless to resist his dominating touch. Azriel’s relentless in the pursuit of your pleasure, keeping his fingers tucked inside of you, keeping the pace, keeping his tongue swirling around your hardened clit, dragging it between his lips when he feels you coming down and teasingly tugging on it with his teeth.

A lovely whimper graces his ears, mouth parting into a wicked grin as you muster the strength to look down at him, your legs spread with slick gleaming on his lips, threading between your inner thighs where he’s gotten you especially messy. 

“Ready for the main course?” He drawls, your nipples peaking at the rough, rolling timbre of his voice, skin prickling as awareness sweeps through you. “Main course?” You pant, already falling out of it, unable to grasp what he’s referring to with that wicked smile as he stands, wings looming over his shoulders. Shadows pull the band of his loose, pale linen trousers from their already low placement on his hips, allowing his hands to settle either side of your waist as he presses flush to your messy heat. 

“Both of us,” he whispers, leaning down atop your mouth, “together?”

You think your eyes roll slightly at the reminder, nails threading through his inky hair as you pull him into a hot kiss, thighs wrapping snugly around his hips. His cock rests hot and heavy against your cunt, slowly riding back and forth to coat himself thoroughly, before aligning his tip with your entrance. 

“Go slowly,” you beg, clutching onto him with anticipation—you’re far to sensitive for any of his rough treatment. But he smirks over your lips, hips drawing back so his tip drags down over your hardened clit, his leaking cock nudging the entrance of your drooling cunt, messy and sloppy from previous attention—about to be made much messier. 

“Go slowly?” He muses, a low laugh in his voice that makes your skin prickle, hairs standing on end. “You’re perfectly warmed up, aren’t you? All ready and pliable, huh? What could you possibly want me to go slowly for?” You flush deeply, hands twining together over his broad shoulders, trying to push as much sternness into your gaze as you can manage—which isn’t much, judging by the way he chuckles. 

“Is my girl too sensitive?” 

That smirk. That sinful fucking smirk. 

“Whatever you do to me I’ll be delivering right back,” you warn, thighs squeezing his hips. “I’m getting you in my mouth after this, remember…” 

“How could I forget?” He groans, hips pushing forward. “Gonna taste both of us.” 

A pleased moan sighs from your lips as he fills you up, gripping one leg to bring it up his chest—the underside of your thigh pressing to his lower stomach as he pushes tight against you. Azriel’s gaze is nothing short of ravenous as he takes in the arch of your spine as his palm splays across your abdomen, applying a slight pressure to really get you to feel him. 

“Like that?” He asks, short on breath. Mouth curved in that smug grin. So self-satisfied. “Look at you,” he coos, shifting his hips, dragging them back so his head is again at your entrance, before pushing his cock all the way back inside. “So hot and flushed. All of this for me?” His thumb swipes across your clit, and you moan helplessly, tossing your head to the side as your eyes squeeze shut, nails scraping over the cushioning. 

Before you can formulate a reply he’s setting his pace, giving deep, almost punishing thrusts of his hips that roll firmly to your own. Sharp and decisive, just as you like, spine arching with every buck. 

“Can you even count to three right now?” He taunts, shadows swirling over your breasts, teasingly playing with your nipples, curling around them and tugging lightly. You try to shoot him a glare—that side of him has been coming out more frequently as of late, and you really don’t want to deal with his mean streak right now. Not on such a perfectly set up evening for romance and intimacy. 

So you extend your arms toward him, fingers opening and closing as if to grasp onto him. “Azriel…” you moan, reaching. His hips buck sharply of their own accord, swearing you could feel him twitch from pleasure—he might enjoy being mean from time to time, but it’s all for getting you nice and needy. He’s an undeniable soft spot for your desperation. Like putty in your hands once you reach for him, your toes curling from pleasure.  

“Fuck,” he curses low under his breath, driving his cock firmly into you as his palms splay either side of you, letting you touch and feel all over him, practically shivering with the greed in your fingers as they explore and grope. “Such a sweet little thing to everyone else, aren’t you? Such a wicked little devil when you’re with me.” 

Teeth tug on your lower lip as you try to keep your smile to yourself, but you fail miserably, smiling wide as your head tips back into the pillow, relishing the pleasure. “Wicked devil?” You moan out, forcing yourself to meet simmering hazel, heat sizzling just beneath your skin, clit itching for release as his abdomen grazes the apex of your thighs. 

“Like this?” 

A startled noise slips from his lips as you reach further over his shoulders, stroking his wings slowly. Teasing out his pleasure to have him playing nice with yours. His forehead drops to your own, brows pressing together, close enough to share panting breaths, your breasts grazing his chest with each heaving inhale. 

His lips part on an unabashed groan that licks up your spine, pooling between your legs at his deep confessions to pleasure, repeating the slow strokes to his wings. 

“Like that,” he confirms, jaw wound tight as he tries to cope with the overwhelming onslaught of stimulation. Hazel eyes warily open, a sharp glint in them as his instincts snarl and grapple with reasoning, but you want him to yield to them, not fight them. 

It seems he gets the message. 

Azriel’s palms snatch at your wrists, slamming them down on the cushioned table to keep you pinned, forcing you to take every brutal buck of his hips and you can feel as both of you swoop for that high that’s rising. His wings flare wide, their total span easily twice his height, casting a dark, dominating shadow that you know is an instinctive show of possession. 

Shadows wrap beneath the arch of your spine, clutching your hips to raise them from the table, and the angle has you going dizzy. Moans spill and babble as he pounds into you, grip remaining tight on your wrists to keep them trapped, driving in and out relentlessly until you think you might have screamed from overstimulation, panting and out of breath when you return to reality beneath him. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growls against your skin, teeth scraping the tender length of your throat, searching for a spot to choose, to bite down on. He picks a section, pushing his teeth in, licking and sucking to push a feverish kiss into your skin, only pulling away once he’s satisfied. 

“Az,” you whine, cupping his cheeks in your hands, squeezing lightly as you arch into him. “It’s my turn.” 

“Your turn?” His hand wraps around your wrist, nosing the centre of your palm, pressing a kiss to its heel, delivering a small lick that zaps straight to your clit. His hips pull away, then push back in, able to feel as his cum begins seeping out of you. “You’ve hardly taken any of it, pretty thing. You need to be full up before moving onto me. Can’t have you going on empty, hm?” 

“Azriel!” You yelp as he rolls his hips to yours more firmly, bucking against you with enough force to nudge you further up the table. “That isn’t fair,” you squawk indignantly.

“My sweet little devil’s going to tell me what’s fair now, is she?” 

His lips curve into that smirk, and your willpower crumbles, legs wrapping themselves tighter around his waist to press him deeper. Azriel’s subsequent laugh reignites arousal in the pit of your stomach, tightening around his cock, urging him to follow through with his taunts. “Do it,” you whisper, “hurry up.” 

“You wanted me to go slowly earlier. I said you needed to be filled up, not that you needed to come.” 

“Azriel!” You gasp when he pulls out entirely, flipping you onto your front so you’re bent over for him, arms forcefully dragged behind your back to give him full control. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to me,” he muses, lining himself up. “But the evening’s too good to waste, don’t you agree? It would be a shame to have it over and done with so quickly.” 

“And you called me the devil,” you mumble into the cushioning, squirming lightly beneath him to feel the unrelenting strength of his grip. “You’re going to cry when I get my mouth on you.” 

He chuckles again, shackling your forearms to the base of your spine with his shadows, rough palms easily gripping your hips. “It’s adorable you think you’re going to make it through that far. We both know you’ve never managed.” 

Azriel leans over you, cock slowly sliding in as he settles at your back. You can feel his lips against your ear, breath fanning the sensitive expanse of your neck. “I’d tell you to hold on tight, princess, but you can’t even manage that most nights. So tonight all you need to do is lie still, and take it.” 

His palm slides beneath your jaw, raising you from the cushioning, a mocking note to his deep and honeyed voice. “How does that sound?” 

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya @starlitlakes @kksbookstuff @feerique @ratgirl2020

[osachiyo]

⋆｡°DRUNK DAZED ! ☆

﹙✮﹚── includes : dazai, chuuya, atsushi, ranpo, sigma & tetchou x fem! reader ♡

﹙✮﹚── content warnings : nsfw content (mdni), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, facesitting, overstimulation, petnames, degradation, penetrative sex, a teeeeeny tiny mention of blood etc ♡

﹙✮﹚── synopsis : they're pussydrunk ♡

﹙✮﹚── author's note : since y'all chose smut for the poll here you guys go, enjoy the meal hehe 😋 birthday fic coming next so keep an eye out for that 😏

DAZAI ⋆｡° ✮

You bit on your bottom lip to suppress your moans, legs shaking like jelly as a mixture of your slick and your boyfriend's saliva ran down your legs, staining the cold floor of the storage room of the agency. You really hoped nobody came to look for you two, or even walk in the direction of the room.

"keep your legs open, pretty," dazai slurred, his voice deep with lust and more importantly, the adoration he held for you. You were his pretty baby, after all. His sweet belladonna, who he was eating like a 3 course meal right now. You were pushed against the door of the storage room while he was on his knees, worshipping his pussy.

Dazai felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, it was most likely Kunikida, wondering where the hell the brunette went during work hours. He couldn't care less though, too busy making out with your cunt. His skilled tongue worked wonders on your clit, fingers buried knuckles deep into your velvety walls as you bit the back of your hand to try and stay quiet. He kept eye contact with you the whole time, pulling his fingers out briefly to fuck you with his tongue, chocolate brown eyes staring deep into your own teary ones. "you look so beautiful right now. I wish you could see yourself, bella," he hummed, voice smooth like honey as he buried his face even deeper between your wobbly legs, wanting to taste every last drop of your addicting arousal. He could feel his cock throbbing in his pants, the fabric ever so restricting. He ignored it though, too focused on making you cum on his tongue first. His nose bumped against your clit everytime he thrusted his tongue into you. He watched your eyes roll back slightly, losing focus as you tug on his fluffy hair, "close— 'm close! 'samu—" you threw your head back, some drool slipping past your lips as your grip tightened on his brunette roots. "I know, baby, I know. cum f'me, sweetheart. I know you can," he groaned, the noise vibrating against your cunt. That was the last straw before you came all over his face. He eagerly slurped up all of your slick, moaning lowly at the slightly bitter taste. You were addicting to him. He stood up, dusting off his pants before he pulled your panties back up, snapping the waistband against your skin with a smirk. His arms were still holding you up, supporting your weight as you calmed down from your high. You looked down to see a puddle of your juices on the floor and Dazai's...soaked pants? "osamu, did you—" you were cut off by the door slamming open.

You were fucked, good luck.

CHUUYA ⋆｡° ✮

You were tied to the bedpost for God knows how long, the red ribbons snaked around your naked body while the pretty pink vibrator attached to your clit buzzed away, tormenting you with each passing second. You regretted messing with Chuuya during his phone call. You should've just been a good girl, he said before leaving you all tied up and needy.

Your ears perked up when the bedroom door opened, Chuuya walked in the room with a cocky smirk. "how's my little slut holding up?" He chuckled, clearly satisfied with how much of a mess he made you. He brushed a few stray hairs out of your face, tucking them behind your ear. He groaned, you were practically sitting on a pool of your own arousal, your inner thighs shiny with your slick. He brought a hand down to your core, collecting some of your slick on his gloved finger before shoving them inside you. You gasped, back arching from the sudden intrusion. Your tummy felt like it was on fire, being denied release for hours. "s'mean— you're mean," you sniffeled, glaring up at your lover with teary eyes. His lips stretched to a grin at your adorableness, "this too much for you, sweetness?" He cooed, making space for himself between your legs and laying on his stomach. He took his gloves off, chucking them somewhere in the room before he licked his lips in anticipation. He could smell how turned on you were, desperate for your sweet orgasm. Your hips bucked when his fingers inched closer to your heat, making him stifle a laugh. He finally took the vibrator off, placing it on the fancy nightstand beside the bed before diving head first between your thighs. He licked a fat stripe up your cunt, bucking his hips into the soft mattress as he ate you like a starved animal. You tried to grab onto something— anything to ground yourself but alas, you were still tied up. He suckled on your swollen clit eagerly, lips wrapped around the sensitive bud as his tongue swirled around it. You squealed when his fingers pushed into your hole again, your gummy walls twitching around them. "good— tastes so good, doll. been thinking about this all fucking evening,” he growled into your cunt. Being edged for so long, you couldn't hold out for much longer, squirting all over his face. He blinked, clearly shocked from your juices spraying all over him. You were about to apologize when you saw Chuuya’s eyes darken, jaw clenching as he stared at you, “that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen you do, fuck,” he groaned, going back to devouring you with double— if not triple the eagerness. “you’re gonna do that again. I’m not stopping until you soak the whole fuckin’ bed.”

ATSUSHI ⋆｡° ✮

Words couldn’t describe how fucking exhausted you were right now, your body aching from how long Atsushi had been drilling his cock into you. You were so overstimulated at this point, pussy swollen from the continuous abuse your boyfriend had been putting it through.

“shit— baby, you feel s’good, so tight for me—” Atsushi groaned, his claws digging into your hips, drawing slight blood as he got lost in the feeling of your cunt spasming around his cock. He was practically foaming at the mouth, just as overstimulated as you were but showed absolutely no signs of stopping anytime soon. His cock was swollen and an angry shade of red, indicating just how sensitive he was but he still could not get enough of your sticky cunt, burying himself in you even though his dick was screaming at him to give it a rest. You weren’t any better either, brain completely fried from his cock driving in and out of you at a rapid pace, his pelvis rubbing against your sensitive clit while you racked your pretty nails down his back. It was downright filthy. But the both of you were too out of it too care, losing yourselves in each other’s embrace. “cumming— oh god, fuck!” He panted, biting your shoulder to ground himself atleast a little bit.

It had been an hour since that, he was shooting blanks into your battered cunt at this point. Your eyes were barely open, close to passing out, your legs felt like jelly from how much they were trembling, nails now buried in the sheets as you sobbed, “ ‘sushi— ‘m too sensitive! can’t—” you gasped when he wrapped his lips around your nipple, whining, “jus’ one more time, pleasepleaseplease—” he shuddered before painting your insides white with his seed, arms wrapped around your half conscious figure as he savoured the blissful high. You almost fell asleep after a few minutes, eyes closing when Atsushi’s hips start moving again. You were about to speak when he cut you off, “shh, just one more, please?”

RANPO ⋆｡° ✮

"ranpo, I'm not gonna sit on your face," you huffed, crossing your arms. He pouted, "c'mon, sugar. it'd feel sooooo good." You sighed, deadpanning at him. "I'll share my snacks with you for a month if you—" "deal."

You chewed on your bottom lip as you hovered over Ranpo's face, "are you sure about this? I don't want to accidentally hurt y—" you gasped when he pulled down on his awaiting mouth, too impatient to let you finish your sentence or reassure you. His thumb pushed your panties to the side, revealing your pretty pussy to him. He licked a long stripe up your cunt, making you whimper. You tried to sit back up on your knees but he was holding you down tight, slim fingers digging into your hips. His greedy tongue swirled around your clit before flicking it. He moaned into your cunt when you ground down on his face, muttering out little curses and his name. His tongue moved down to your hole, pushing in while he brought his hand to your clit, fingers rubbing your clit in swift circles. You felt like you were on cloud nine, mouth watering at the pleasure your boyfriend was inflicting upon you. You reached back to cup his dick through his shorts, the fabric slightly damp with his precum. He gasped when you palmed him through them, pinching your clit lightly to get back at you. You yelped, grinding down harder on his eager face, feeling his cock twitch in your hand. He liked that. He scoffed, the sound muffled between your thighs. He greedily slurped on your juices, savouring your taste on his tongue and fuck, he could feel his eyes roll back behind closed lids. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten— so close to snapping. "yesyesyes— god, ranpo!" You squealed, gushing all over your lover's face. He let out a guttural noise, drinking all of your arousal up before finally lifting you up from his face. You could see his face completely soaked with your liquid, a lopsided grin on his face, "see? was that so bad?" You laughed, shaking your head, wondering why the actual fuck you hadn't tried it sooner.

SIGMA ⋆｡° ✮

You had Sigma tied up on your bed, pretty pink ribbons matching his pretty pink cock, leaking precum from the flushed tip. He was glaring at you, demanding to be untied immediately but you just smirked, having too much fun teasing your boyfriend like this.

"such a good boy, aren't you, sigma?" You slurred, eyes shutting in pleasure when he flicked his tongue on your clit, hard cock aching to be inside you. Your hand brushed through his bangs, making him look up at you, your slick covering the lower half of his handsome face. God, he was beautiful. He hummed against your leaking cunt, slobbering all over your heat. He wanted to pleasure you with everything he had, his tongue, fingers and cock but unfortunately for him, he was tied up. He wasn't too sure of the idea before but now? Now he was enthusiastically burying his face between your thighs, running his tongue up and down your pretty folds. You tasted like heaven to him, a little break from the hell he went through. Your moans and giggles of pleasure were music to his ears, making his face flush with each lewd noise you make. His brain felt foggy from your addicting taste, so sweet on his tongue as he lapped everything up, nose bumping against your clit. You'd think he was one getting head from how much pre his cock was leaking, he couldn't help but hump the mattress, growing downright addicted to your taste. Lavender and white locks of hair framing his face perfectly, your hand buried in it as he ate you up like his last meal on earth. He could feel your cunt clenching and unclenching on his tongue and he moaned, the sound borderline pornographic as his eyes rolled back. His face was flushed a shade of pink down to his neck. "god— you taste so—" he cut himself off with a groan, gasping when you cum all over his face, your head thrown back and exposing your neck as you moan his name. You looked down to see Sigma's face red, swollen lips coated in a layer of your shiny slick. He looked dazed, half lidded eyes looking at you with hunger, "more. n-need more," he panted, burying his face back into your sopping heat.

TETCHOU ⋆｡° ✮

You didn't know how you ended up like this, one moment you're training with your boyfriend and the next moment you're getting folded by him on the carpeted floor as he bullies his thick cock past your tight entrance.

You felt like you were in a daze, legs pushed up against your chest, mouth forming an 'o' shape as your eyes roll back into your skull. Tetchou's bangs were brushing against your forehead, sweat dripping down his muscular back as he rolled his hips into you. He could see and feel the way your cunt sucked him in, not letting him go. He placed open mouthed kisses on your neck and collarbones, nibbling on the sensitive flesh. His fingers dug into the back of your thighs, leaving indented marks from how firm he was gripping them. "hah— takin' my cock s'well," he rasped before pressing his lips against yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers while plowing into you. Your pussy was all swollen and sensitive from how long he'd been at this. His previous load was dripping down your ass, staining the carpet below. You felt so good— so tight and wet all for him, he felt like home in your cunt, hips smacking against your ass erratically while you milked his cock for all it's worth. You couldn't even think properly anymore, too fucked out to have any coherent thoughts but his cock. He could feel his mouth water at the sight of your teary eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out slightly as he fucked the brains out of you. He wasn't any better either, panting and gasping with each thrust, growling every time you clench down on his cock so deliciously. You put him in a trance, he wasn't thinking with his brain anymore, much too occupied by drilling his cock into your welcoming heat, fat tip kissing your cervix with each thrust, making a wet noise each time his hips met your ass.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

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[calypsocolada]

how your first kiss went with them... ft. shigaraki, aizawa, & hawks

authors note: hi hi! just finished watching season 6 of mha and got inspired. first time writing for mha characters and started with my favorite ones :) hope you all enjoy!!

cw: angst, fem! one for all weilder, slight spoilers for season 6

wc: 2.6k

click here for my masterlist

Tomura could only watch as his mind was stolen, watch his body being overtaken by a force he wasn’t strong enough to stop. All for One’s control taking over. He knew he had seconds left before he’d no longer cease to be himself. You burned with hatred beneath him, your left arm broken and useless, your right hand holding some sharp shrapnel that you’d plunged desperately into his side, your powers flickering weakly within you. He didn’t feel the pain. Your eyes flashed, his hands around your neck, squeezing. Someone was going to win here but… it wasn’t going to be him. 

He pulled you hard, the fire in your eyes licking and burning his own but he couldn’t care less. If he was going to die he was going to make one last grave mistake that might send him to the grave earlier than expected. He leaned down where you were pinned beneath him and with impressive force, smashed his lips against your own. 

The kiss was like a fight. Like all your other fights. But lips instead of fists. With breaths instead of words. With groans instead of screams and growls. His hands gripped your face hard to keep you where he wanted you. You, in a fit of confusion and pure survival instinct twisted the shrapnel in his side. He gasped in pain but that only spurred him on, his mouth cracking yours open in a feverish attempt to be as close as humanly possible. He had no indication whether or not you wanted this until the pain ceased and he felt your tongue brush against his. His breathing hitched, muddled with pain and sorrow and complete obsession. He pulled you off the ground roughly and kissed you until you both were gasping for air. When he pulled back the state he left you in was enough to satisfy him for years. Your lips were kissed pink and wet, your cheeks had a wicked blush across them as you stared at him with utter bewilderment and something else that had his stomach tangling in knots within him.

He resigned himself to death then. He was guilty as sin.

Your hand was still on the hilt of your shrapnel that was embedded in his side as you stared at each other. Breaths heavy. Tomura didn’t know how to be kind. He didn’t know how to be soft. He’d never kissed anyone before and it should’ve been pretty damn suspicious when the first person he’d ever felt the need to devour with his lips was the one standing opposite of him in this endless war. The one he needed to destroy. And to say he wanted to devour you was almost an understatement. He wanted to climb into your body and live in your ribcage, safe and tucked away. He wanted to be inside you, wanted that mind of yours to only know him, wanted those pink lips to only speak his name, those pretty eyes to only meet his. The obsession was endless. He wanted it more than ever right now. Death knocking down his rotted door. So bad that he hadn’t even noticed his own tears before they fell and hit your cheeks. You blinked a few times, slowly coming back down from the clouds. Tomura reached for you a last time, the pad of his thumb swiping his tears off your cheek. 

“Save me, hero.” He breathed out before everything went black.

~

“Again!” He called as you huffed. Aizawa was a relentless teacher. You felt your powers flicker inside your veins as you tried to control them, to harness them and use them the way they were meant to be used. But dammit, you were tired. You two had been at this for hours. You weren’t some kid he could push around and it was then, with exhaustion mingling with annoyance you shook your head defiantly. Throwing your hands down.

“I’m done!” You growled at him, tossing aside your practice weapon. Aizawa straightened.

“We’re just getting started, hero.” He mocked as you stared at him with venom. He knew all about your inherited quirk, knew there wasn’t much time for you to harness it and so he’d been pushing you to the edge for months to train you. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“What should I call you then? Fraud?” He asked and that fire that you wanted to extinguish flickered in seconds, catching your inside on fire. 

“I’ll kill you!” You growled. You didn’t need that useless weapon. You outstretched your arm and black whip shot out like an extension of your grip, it wrapped around Aizawa in milliseconds as you yanked him towards you. You knew he’d use erasure and you were looking forward to it. The moment he used it it didn’t stop his moment as black whip dissolved around him, your powers canceled out only for his face to meet your fist. You hit him hard enough to rattle the brain in his skull. He hit the ground even harder and for a moment your heart leaped. He’d always said you were quick to fly off the handle and you’d just proved him right. Your hand ached, your knuckles busted. Aizawa groaned from the ground, pushing up on his forearms. You breathed out a relieved breath, thinking you had maybe killed him with that fuckery of a move. 

“That was smart.” He sighed, his upper cheek already had a bruise forming. “Why don’t you give me this energy during practice instead of making me get you angry?” He asks as you look at him hard.

“We’ve been at it for hours.” You growled angrily. “I’m tired.”

“And you don’t think I am too?” He pushed to his feet, giving you a hard look, his dark hair falling in his face. “You are a brat. You are stronger than any quirk user yet you don’t care enough to really harness those powers. You asked for this.”

“I know!” You burst out, turning pointedly away from him, dreaming of your bed, dreaming of a night without nightmares of all for one stealing your power and killing the world. You weren’t a kid but you were still young, young enough that this burden on your shoulders was crushing you. 

“You can’t run from this.” Aizawa said but he didn’t sound angry. You still didn’t turn to face him. “You think you’re all alone?”

“Of course I’m alone! It’s just like you said, I’m the strongest.”

“Everyone needs a hand. Even All-Might.” Aizawa said. You turned on him, eyes sharp. 

“All-Might defeated All for one on his own. There’s not a soul that could stand beside me and not be killed.”

“I’ve stood beside you this whole time. I’ve trained you. You think I’ll just let you go at it alone after everything we’ve been through?” Aizawa asked as the look in your eyes hardened.

“I won’t let you.” You said in a low, intimidating voice. Aizawa’s lips parted slightly. “All for one will not get a shot at you. I’ll die before that happens.”

“You’re stubborn but not as stubborn as me.” Aizawa returns, taking a step towards you. “I’m with you till the end.”

“Did you not hear a word I-” Aizawa leaned into your space, hand sliding over your cheek as his lips cut off your sentence. You almost pulled back but he stepped closer to you, one hand on your face the other sliding around you and resting on the dip of your back. You pushed him back forcefully, your breath shaky as you stared at him. 

“Forgive me… I-” You grabbed him roughly by his shirt, slamming your lips against his. He grunted against your lips in surprise, hands barely ghosting over your hips. You kissed him unforgivingly hard. This was a sort of ultimate payback in a small way, of all the hours he overworked you. You pushed him back on the training mat and slid atop him. This was a form of practice, right? A workout that wouldn’t exhaust you… or would it? If he thought for a moment you’d let him help you now he was sorely mistaken. But on the other side of the coin, if you thought for a moment he wouldn’t die for you, you were sorely mistaken as well. Rock meets hard place.

~

“Idiot.” You growled beside his hospital bed. Hawks looked peaceful and you wanted nothing more than to shake him awake and smack some sense into him. But he was still healing so your assault of slaps and punches would have to wait. You huffed. Leaning back in your chair, flipping through the channels on the tv. It wasn’t long before your mind wandered to the same thing you’d been thinking about for days.

Hawks almost dying for you. Hawks pushing you aside before you were impaled with Shigaraki’s power. Having to watch Hawks get impaled, having his eyes meet yours and a stupid soft and beautiful smile on his face as he mumbled something you didn’t even get to hear. You tried remembering again, tried focusing on his lips in your memories but it was of no use. You huffed, unable to relax as you turned back to look at him. The number two hero. You stare at him, your eyes drifting to those lips. You willed him to say those words again and when his eyes opened you didn’t even notice.

“Watching me sleep? How romantic.” He said, his voice gruff from being unused for days. You jumped at not only the sound of his voice but being caught staring at his lips.

“I wasn’t. I was trying to kill you with my mind.” You grumbled protectively, eyes snapping up to meet him. The way he looked at you was the most dangerous thing you’d see in a while. The pure adoration in his eyes, the smile that formed on his lips at your joke. It twisted at your insides.

“Are you alright?” He asked because the last thing he remembered in the fight was you hurt and in trouble. You tensed.

“You're the one in a hospital bed.” You growled. Hawks seemed to just notice this fact, he was utterly distracted by the fact that you’d been sitting at his bedside. He reached for your hand but you pulled away and stood to your feet.

“Y/n-”

“I told you not to get involved.” You growled. “I had it under control but you had to go and try to play the hero.”

“I am a hero.” Hawks said, something in his eyes that angered you more.

“Not to me. I don’t need your sacrifice. If you wanna get yourself killed, do it for someone else.” You hissed. He looked at you. You hoped your venomous words would have some effect on him. You wanted him to be angry. Wanted him to hate you. To look at you with harsh eyes but his expression didn’t change.

“Such venom.” He said with a smirk. If you didn’t have some modicum of control over your powers and anger this whole hospital would’ve been brought down. “Are you trying to push me away again?”

“What?” You huffed.

“You heard me, number one. I know what you’re doing but it’s not gonna work.”

“And what am I doing?”

“What you do to everybody you start to care about. You lash out at them so they’re not tempted to stay by your side when things go sideways.” 

“I-- I don’t do that.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Hawks admonished with a shake of his head. You take in a deep breath, tensing your jaw. “Growl all you want, I’m not getting scared away.”

“You’re crazy. You almost died, this isn’t some fucking joke.”

“I knew I’d be fine. Knew you’d carry me off the battlefield.” He croons, you stare at him hard.

“How could you have known?”

“I’m an optimistic guy.” He smiles. You roll your eyes, turning to leave. He catches your wrist just as you reach for the handle.

“What-? You need to stay in bed, idiot.” You growl as Hawks holds your wrist gently in one hand, the other on his bandaged torso.

“I’ll get back in bed if you stay.”

“Are you serious?” You growl as he nods his head.

“Deadly serious.”

“You’re a child.” You sigh. 

“Stay. Don’t run away from me.” He says and the seriousness in his voice has your stomach flipping. You pull out of his touch.

���Get in bed.” You direct and his eyes look down into yours, a challenge.

“Make me.” He says. Your eye twitches as you waste zero time pushing this idiot back towards his bed. Once the backs of his knees hit the mattress he pulls a move on you and you’re pulled on top of him. You two tumble onto the hospital bed. Your heart lurches dangerously into your throat, feeling the warmth of his hands ghosting your hips. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hush.” He says, hands sliding up to either side of your face as he pulls you down so that your lips meet. The shock of his cold lips against yours was like a rush to your system. An overloading and overheating shock. You gasped at the ache of want that tore through you. That had always been lurking beneath every tense moment with Hawks. Him training you. You two on missions. Reluctant breakfast, lunch, and dinners with him. He wormed his way into your heart and you hated it. Anyone close to you was surely going to be killed and that dangerous hope in your chest that built when he was around should’ve raised flags for you. But you let him in. You selfish creature. You pushed him back, and moved shakily to your feet. Hawks reached for you again and you caught his wrist, twisting it. He flinched in pain, staring at you with confusion and hurt.

“Don’t touch me again.” You growled. You needed space from him, your head swimming, your eyes traitorously drifting to the lips that had just been against yours.

“What's wrong?” Hawks asked. You stepped back, narrowing your eyes.

“You never listen. You-- you’re always trying to confuse me and sneak your way into my-- you need to leave me alone.”

“No.”

“N-No?” You asked as Hawks barely raised his brows, nodding his head. His blond hair falling against his forehead. He looked so annoyingly beautiful you wanted to hit him. 

“I don’t just sacrifice my life for anybody.” He says as he stands, wincing in pain.

“Just stay in the damn bed-” He pulled you to him, inches taller than you, eyes unwaveringly serious as he spoke his next sentence.

“I love you.” He said and the words had your eyes widening, a soft gasp escaping your lips. He clearly loved that he caught you off guard. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know what I said.” 

“What you said?” You echo, unable to properly digest this moment. 

“When I saved you. I said I loved you.” The words his lips spoke that you’d been driven up a wall trying to remember. If he died you would’ve never known.

“I hate you.”

“Close enough.” He grins, leaning and pressing his lips gently to yours. You didn’t push him off, you didn’t have the strength, something selfish was taking over and you didn’t have the will power to fight it. You’d played it safe for years. Not letting anyone get close. But… you failed. You kissed Hawks back with twice the passion, pushing him back on the bed, caging him beneath you. If he was going to love you you were going to let him. Damned selfishness…

[reiderwriter]

Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3

(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon

A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡

Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.

Masterlist

The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 

You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 

A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 

You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 

“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 

“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 

The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 

“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 

Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 

He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 

“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 

That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 

Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 

“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 

The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 

All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 

He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 

You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 

Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 

Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 

“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 

“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 

“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.

“My… my what?” 

“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”

“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 

Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 

“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 

“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 

He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 

Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 

He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 

When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 

You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 

You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 

You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 

So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 

You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 

You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 

It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 

Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 

You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 

“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 

“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 

You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 

Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 

Or a pedestrian. 

The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 

“We're here.” 

“Great. Let me walk you in.” 

In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 

“Okay.” 

Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.

“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 

“About what, Y/N?” 

He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 

You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 

“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 

You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 

“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 

“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 

His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 

Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 

“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 

Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 

He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   

“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 

“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 

“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 

Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 

“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”

“Good girl.” 

He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 

You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 

“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 

Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 

“You're being an ass.” 

“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”

“Spencer!”

“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”

His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 

“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”

You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 

“Yes, Spencer.”

“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”

He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 

By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 

He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 

“No clothes, Y/N.” 

“I know.”

“Underwear is clothing.” 

“I know that, too, Spencer.”

“Then take it off.” 

You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 

“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 

“I also said no clothes.” 

“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”

His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 

He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 

You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 

“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 

“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 

“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 

“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 

He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 

“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 

You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 

“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 

When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 

He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 

“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 

You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 

“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 

You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 

You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 

Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 

His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 

“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 

“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 

His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 

You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 

“Fuck, Spencer.” 

“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”

With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 

You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 

The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 

You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 

Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 

“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.

“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 

“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 

But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 

“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 

“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 

“I know, I'm going to stay.”

“In the bath?” 

“In the bath.” 

“Good.”

And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 

[maisanshine]

#𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍| 𝐉𝐉𝐊

He didn’t even cross my mind

The playlist series

Paring- one nightstand!Jungkook X one nightstand!reader

Warnings: cheating, unprotected sex, breeding, marking, pussy eating, pussy slapping, cum eating, fingering, overstimulation, somonphila?,

WC: 592

A/N; this one is short:) can y'all believe this man is 27 years old?

Now Playing #Icanteven - the neighborhood

Not edited

☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩

“I could fuck you forever baby girl” jungkooks head is deep in the curve of your neck. His hard cock pressing up against the lewd walls of your cum filled cunt.

Your phone with 6 missed calls from your boyfriend, forgotten on the Jungkook’s coffee table.

Your hand aches from the grip you have on his back. Marking your nails into his pale skin.

Jungkook pulls out of your cunt. Placing paperweight kisses down your neck then on the valley of your breast, your stomach until he lands in front of your pussy.

He looks at the sight smiling. He licks a long stripe collecting the fallen cum off your lips. You moan tired, you've been at it for hours. Your mind is heavy, body satisfied. The only thing you need is a trip to dreamland.

For at least a minute or two. Jungkook licks you again waking you up. You flinch. Moving your head. “Don’t if so bad anymore huh?” he says. Warping his arms around your thighs.

You can't hear him, you just hear ringing in your ears. Are you even alive? You don't know, you feel numb like you are lying on a cloud.

Your eyes shut, and you feel soft vibrations through your body. The darkness behind your eyes is comforting, relaxing. You feel Jungkook’s passion against you.

Jungkook rubs his nose into you, licking you clean. He’s face deep in your pussy. His tongue brushes up every edge of you. He could die between your legs. Crazy how you two met 3 hours ago. He can't believe it.

Jungkook looks up at you. Your body is stiff but you continue making little noises for him. You are nearly asleep. Jungkook slaps your wet cunt, you flinch. “Cum for me one more time baby, please?”

“Huh?” falls out your lips, you're so delirious. Jungkook chuckles, he fingers you. Fucking his cum into you. He licks you sucking and fingering your simulated clit.

“ you didn't answer my questions baby?” you slumped your head to the other side.

“What…did…you…say?” Jungkook repays his question. “You don’t feel bad for cheating on your man anymore?” You shake your head. Your eyes shut completely.

“ you need to speak, I’m head deep in this cunt of yours baby” You open your eyes.

You look down seeing Jungkook, your eyes are tired and heavy. Is he still going? Four nuts inside you weren’t enough for him. He just had to eat you out too? You think.

You drop your head back on the couch. How did you even get on the couch? You were in his bed? Jungkook takes you out of your train of thought. With his fingers moving faster. He adds another, licking you faster. Your body tensing.

“Fuck” you can’t move, you too tired. “No I don’t feel bad, he didn’t even pass my mind” You touch Jungkook’s head. Softly scratching his head.

Your cunt is pulsing faster by the second. Your body is on fire. As if you ran for 7 miles without stopping. Jungkook’s fingers move faster, his tongue slips into your hole. You flinch, the muscle brushing against you. You moan.

“Jungkook, I’m going to” You can barely speak. You cum on his face. Your body shaking. Heart racing you can’t take it anymore. You crying from exhaustion.

Jungkook licks your fluids off his lips and upper lip. He stands up, carrying you to bed. “I’m so glad baby, he I can't even-” You don’t get to hear the last of his sentence. You knocked out.