#smuts

[romanswifeyyy]

Meet the tribal chief

Warnings: cussing,smut,dominance,

Hair pulling, dirty talking.

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Triple H had just told me that I’m moving to smackdown to be apart of the bloodline crew. Yes I knew exactly who he was talking about… I am about to join the group that has the most dominant man of all wwe ROMAN REIGNS also known as the tribal chief.. now I don’t know much about Roman but I was a fan of the shield when it was around. “Paul I don’t know about this!” I held my breath “y/n you’ll be fine!” He said looking at me with you’ll be okay eyes.

The next morning it was time to go meet the bloodline, it was Friday night smackdown. I walk to nick’s office and there they all sat… except one person and that was the tribal chief himself. He was late, I sat down next to the door and waited, 5 minutes went by and the door opened… I look up and my breath immediately gets taken away. This 6’3 tall Samoan, hair ringing wet, oil all over his body, post match…

he sits down next to the twins and looked at nick, “Roman, Jimmy, jey, solo, Sami, meet y/n she’s gonna be apart of your bloodline” he says with a smile, I go to stand up and Roman stopped me “I’m Roman reigns YOUR tribal chief” he held out his hand for me to shake, I took his hand shaking it smiling. “Hi Roman, I’ve watched since shield days but never really got to meet you!”

2 hours later…

Im currently sitting in Roman’s locker room watching his match, he seems pissed as hell which kind of scares me a little bit because Roman is scary when he gets mad. Roman lost and looks angrier than ever, sitting on his couch I hear him come in and I freeze, “JEY I NEED YOU OUT THERE TAKING CARE OF HIM NOW” he growls, he slams his locker room door shut and starts walking to his shower, then stops and looks over, growls, and in a low but angry voice says “y/n baby, you acknowledge me right..?”

Waiting for me to respond but I froze up and didn’t know what to say.., he steps forward putting a little more power to his voice “I SAID.. y/n you acknowledge me right baby. If you don’t answer your tribal chief there will be consequences”, still frozen I nod a little “THAT wasn’t enough” he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder, taking me in the bathroom with him.

He sits me down and strips me of all my clothes, strips himself, and leads me into the shower. “I see the way you look at me, I see your eyes and your body language when I come around, you’re crazy about me” I make eye contact and I don’t move, “see you can’t even deny it” his low but angry voice has a hint of lust behind it. His hand trails down my stomach and to pussy.

Roman starts rubbing in circles causing my mouth to fall open “mmm feels good doesn’t it babygirl” I hum, he starts rubbing faster causing a moan to slip out. “Very responsive for your tribal chief aren’t we” continuing to keep eye contact he slips a finger in, thrusting his finger in me slow but fast, he turns me around my face to the wall, he strokes himself once and pushes into me slowly, I bite back a loud moan “tell me when you’re ready” I nod

“Ready” I manage to say, he thrusts into me slowly, hearing him breathing heavy turned me on even more, “fucking nick he knew I was going to lose that match” he starts thrusting harder causing my moans to start falling out “can you believe that” he growls and starts drilling into me, god it felt so good I wanted to praise him but it was too hard to speak, the way he fucks, talks, and acts like a badass is even more of a turn on SMACK “did you hear your tribal chief speaking to you” his low but angry voice in my ear “n-no daddy!” He growls getting even more angrier at the moment he grabs my neck and pounds me “YOU’RE MINE!” Talking through his teeth.

I moan loudly he speaks again “good fucking girl!, YOU will obey me AND me only. You will go by my words DO YOU understand me” grunting and moaning I managed to get out a response “Y-yes daddy I understand” SMACK he smacks my ass “good girl” this is what I’ve always wanted I WANTED him. Seeing him, his long hair, the tattoos, watching his matches turned me on. I feel a pit in my stomach “DADDY!!” Feeling my climax coming I start to get louder “You wanna cum?, cum for your tribal chief” hearing those words I lost control of my body, my eyes rolled back, I came.

“Meet your tribal chief” he said with one more snap of the hips he let his seed go into me.

[lazysoulwriter]

soft landing - pedro pascal ── .✦

requested! thank you. content: smut, post-sex intimacy, soft!Pedro, tummy riding (reader rubs against his happy trail), praise kink, body worship, gentle dom vibes

You’re still catching your breath.

His cum is warm inside you, your skin damp with sweat, and Pedro’s arms are wrapped lazily around your waist like he has no intention of letting you go for the next decade.

He’s smiling. That dreamy, post-orgasm smile he only gives you.

You kiss his chest.

He runs a hand up your spine, then down again, settling you higher on his torso, off his lap — soft and slow. You hum, content. Let him move you.

Except— the moment your clit drags over the patch of soft hair on his belly, you gasp.

Your thighs twitch.

Pedro stills.

“You okay, baby?”

You nod, breath hitching. “Y-Yeah. Just—felt something. Weird.”

He glances down, sees where your pussy’s now resting: plush and swollen, right above his navel. The slope of his tummy is warm. Slightly sticky. Still rising and falling with each of his lazy, satisfied breaths.

You shift again—accidentally—and the pressure hits just right.

“Ohh…”

Pedro raises a brow. “That?”

You nod slowly, stunned.

He hums. “Well, then…”

His hands slide down to your hips, firm and patient.

“Keep going,” he murmurs, voice low. “Chase it.”

You roll your hips, just slightly. A small, slow grind.

Your clit pulses, slick still dripping from your swollen folds, and the soft give of his stomach — paired with that delicious line of his happy trail — sparks something you can’t control.

You moan. High, quiet, real.

Pedro groans beneath you.

“Fuck, baby. That’s so hot.”

You’re panting now. Moving instinctively. Rubbing against him, using his body to get yourself off. Not his cock. Not his hands. Just him. Soft skin. Warm belly. That little patch of hair you’ve kissed a thousand times.

He watches in awe. “You look so pretty like that.”

“Pedro—”

“You wanna come on my tummy, cariño? Right there? Make a mess on me?”

You nod, a little broken. Grinding harder now, desperate, moaning louder with each slick stroke of your clit over him. And he just holds you, lets you do it, guides your hips with strong, reverent hands.

“That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You cum with a cry, hips stuttering, clit throbbing as your whole body shudders above him — collapsing onto his chest, mouth open against his collarbone.

For a moment, there’s only breathing. Tangled limbs. The low thrum of what the hell just happened vibrating in the air between you.

Then Pedro laughs — breathless, dazed.

“That was… that was insane.”

You groan into his neck. “I just came from your tummy. What the fuck.”

He grins, stroking your hair. “That’s new.”

“We’re doing it again.”

“Obviously.”

You lift your head, eyes still half-closed.

“I already loved your tummy,” you whisper, kissing the tip of his nose. “Now I’m gonna get weirdly attached.”

He laughs so hard you feel it in your bones. Kisses you sweet and messy and everywhere.

And later, when you’re both finally still — his fingers tracing lazy circles into your hip — he mutters:

“You made my stomach holy. That was spiritual.”

You snort. “You’re so dumb.”

He just smiles. “Yeah. But I’m yours.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

[hyunjinxgirl]

skz links♡

juicy prn links from X. MDNI!!!

Hyung line

: ̗̀➛chan deepens his twitching cock inside of you★

: ̗̀➛ chan comes all over your tits★

: ̗̀➛ minho loves the taste of you★

: ̗̀➛ minho likes the creampie ★

: ̗̀➛ changbin is a bit big..★

: ̗̀➛ changbin fingers you like there's no tomorrow★

: ̗̀➛ hyunjin fucks you in the dorm, til the guys are sleeping★

: ̗̀➛ hyunjin lets you ride him★

Maknae line

: ̗̀➛ jisung fingers you so good, while your hand are tied together ★

: ̗̀➛ you made jisungie cum ★

: ̗̀➛ felix and you decided to make a quick sex tape★

: ̗̀➛ you're clingy and needy for felix ★

: ̗̀➛ seungmin loves suck on your breast★

: ̗̀➛ oral sex with seungmin ★

: ̗̀➛ passionate sex with jeongin★

: ̗̀➛ jeongin takes care of you★

if you liked it don't forget to like, reblog and comment your experiences, have a nice day!♡

×××

edit: hey guys!! first, thank you for that lot of notes, i'm so glad you liked these links🤭

× second, i made the post coquette i hope you still like it♡

× then the last thing, i needed to change a few links at the maknae line because for some kind of reason, that part is so chaotic, and has a lot of problem with saving the links, i can't💀🔫

× then the last last thing, sorry for the spelling, english is not my first language, but i always try to fix my mistakes😭🙏🏻

bye bye~

[ingeniousmindoftune]

Smoke and Sin

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Smoke & Stack x Reader

Note: Set during the chaos in Sinners (2025), the twins— identical, lethal and seductively unholy— find themselves entangled with you, a sly speakeasy informant with secrets of your own. When you slip too deep into the game of lust and power, the twins close in- not as enemies but something far more dangerous…

The speakeasy on Mercer and 5th didn’t need neon. A faint halo of incense smoke drifted like a smokescreen under dim lamps carved from jade. The air tasted of sandalwood and gin. A cracked gramophone dripped ragtime piano keys, each note a slow pulse. You stood at the bar in your black velvet sheath—so tight your pulses showed through the slit that climbed your thigh—and clutched a coupe of ruby-red vermouth. The cold glass sent shivers across your palm.

Pleasure wasn’t your agenda. You traded in whispers: crooked card games, smuggled shipments, alliances bought with lipstick-smudged lies. But word had reached you that Elias “Smoke” and Elijah “Stack” Moore “Smokestack Twins”—twins notorious for leaving trails of bodies—were stalking the Quarter again.

“Trouble, table for two.” Benny’s breath ghosted at your ear. His voice trembled—a good omen. You didn’t spare him a glance. You felt the shift before you saw them.

Two silhouettes moved as one down the smoke-tinged aisle. Elias’ jaw was a blade; Elijah’s gaze a slow burn. Both wore charcoal suits cinched at the waist, collars open to reveal skin that gleamed like obsidian. Their eyes—smoldering coals—swept the room, sucked the air from conversations, blurred the edges of every patron’s glass.

“Y/N,” Smoke rumbled. His voice was velvet and steel. Your spine quivered.

Stack’s lips curved into a grin that tasted of promise and threat. “We missed you.”

You toyed with your glass, the ice clicking against crystal. “Didn’t know I was that entertaining.”

Smoke slid into the seat beside you, hips brushing yours. His nearness sent a pulse through your core. “You’re not entertaining, sweetheart. You’re worth the chase.”

Silk and incense and low-hunger music wrapped around you. The bartenders froze; the pianist’s hand caught mid-note. When the SmokeStacks arrived, the world contracted to their orbit.

But you came armored. A veil of perfume spiked with silver dust—an old charm against monsters. You lifted your chin, letting the soft glow catch your lashes.

“Still flirting with fire?” Stack traced a lazy finger up your thigh. Heat bloomed under his touch.

You tipped your head back, lips curving. “Only when I want to get burned.”

After that, the night blurred in green-whiskey shots and laughter threaded with tension. Lips brushed necks in shadowed corners. You slipped upstairs, guided by Benny’s nod. The VIP lounge glowed blood-red. Velvet sofas curved like sin. Curtains pooled on the floor, as if bleeding.

Smoke and Stack flanked you—two halves of a single desire. Stack’s scent was dark amber; Smoke, raw musk. You let Stack’s hand ghost over your ribs, then slide under your dress. Smoke’s mouth was hot on your nape, teeth grazing, sending sparks along your skin.

Smoke’s lips crushed yours—hard, demanding—tongue opening you like a secret. You gasped, arching into him. Stack’s fingers fumbled with your fasteners, sending velvet pooling at your hips. He kissed a path down your collarbone, tasting sweat and promise.

When Stack’s hand pressed between your thighs, slick with anticipation, you trembled. Smoke parted your hair to expose a tender curve at the base of your skull. His teeth grazed—you inhaled sharply. Every nerve ignited.

“We want the truth,” Smoke whispered against your jaw, voice a caress and a command. “Or we take it.”

Your breath stuttered. “I—I told you everything I know.”

Stack’s lips clamped on your breast, tongue flicking. You moaned, arching, the breath rattling free. Smoke’s fingers found your center, curling in slow, precise strokes. Heat pooled, pressing outward, making your vision blur.

“Say our names,” Roman murmured, thumb circling your clit with cruel devotion.

“Elias…Elijah…” Your voice was a plea buried in pleasure.

“Say our names…” they both growled.

“Smoke…Stack..”

Their rhythm shifted: one twin pulling pleasure from your moans, the other marking you with hot, insistent kisses. You were stretched between them—each movement an exquisite crime.

Then Stack’s teeth sank into your neck. Pain lanced through pleasure, making your blood drum in your ears. A strangled cry tore free. Smoke’s hand froze, crimson unfurling across your collarbone.

“You bit her?!” Smoke’s eyes flared, coal-red anger.

Stack’s grin was wicked. Lips wet with your blood, he pressed another kiss to the wound. “She tasted like sin.”

Smoke’s suit jacket dropped to the floor. He knelt, one hand at your pulse, the other steadying your thigh. His gaze flicked between the wound and Stack’s gleeful grin. “Our pact—if she bleeds, she dies.”

Warm dread pooled in your belly, but the silver dust in your perfume hissed at the venom, slowing its creep. You teetered on the edge of oblivion.

Stack’s fingers brushed your cheek, gentle now. “I didn’t plan it…her scent was too much.”

“Then help her,” Smoke ordered, voice brittle as broken glass. Pain flickered in his eyes.

Your breath came in ragged sobs. “Stack…” It was an apology, a plea.

He closed his eyes, knuckles white as he pressed a kiss to your blood-stained lips. His voice was a broken promise. “I should let you bleed out right here.”

You shivered, tears mingling with sweat and blood. “Then why—”

He silenced you by sweeping you into his arms. Softly, tenderly, as if cradling something precious meant to break. His suit ragged against your skin, his heartbeat thundered against your ear.

Stack hovered, guilt and desire warring in his sharp features. Smoke’s fingers brushed away your tears. “You’re ours,” he murmured. “And I’ll damn the world before I lose you.”

Your heartbeat steadied in his warmth. The twins—destroyers and saviors—held you between sin and salvation.

When they carried you toward whatever came next, you knew nothing would ever be the same.

[phobicc-kira]

HER VOICE WILL BE THE FUCKING DEATH OF ME BRO🫠

[jeysslut]

my honest reaction

[henneseyhoe]

What A Woman Wants; Taste

Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, Chiron an eater in this but when is he not, pussy slapping, slut shaming (kinda), fingering, dirty talk, drug use(just a luh weed) no actual PinV, !!Unedited!!.

SUMMARY: The beginning of various stories about the reader, her diary and her many favorites.

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Whore, slut, fast, hot, easy. What really is the definition of promiscuity? Maybe just a woman who sleeps around. Or someone who’s had many boyfriends and flings. Would she be a whore if she slept with a married man? What if she didn’t know? Would she still be a whore?

The word was as complex as sexual relations in itself, but in her mind, everyone was a whore. Everyone had whorish ways. Some people liked to be smacked on the ass when they fucked, some liked to be spat on, tied up, scratched, degraded, praised, and then some. So what was the problem that she got what she liked but from different people? Nothing, she thought.

She had men from one end to the other side of the pond. Short, tall, muscular, skinny, masculine, feminine, you name it. She’s seen dicks nearly the size of her forearm all over the globe. She kept track of the ones she liked in a diary and tossed the ones that were no fun.

One of her favorites who also happens to be an old classmate from college ate pussy like a starved man and only got up when she told him to, and that’s exactly how she liked her men; doing what she told them to do.

A blunt in hand and tattooed legs spread from one end of the bed to the other, he drank from her fountain, quenching his thirst as she gushed around his fingers. His other free hand softly caressed her bare pussy, fingertips dancing along her mound before they pressed against her aching clit.

Pulling his tongue from alongside his thrusting fingers, he looks down and admires the wet and dirty scene in front of him, the second pair of your lips shining like he had just applied baby oil to her.

“Pretty ass pussy”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Mhm. Looking like this and you expect me to keep my mouth off of you?”

She hums out a moan, her pretty toes curling at that.

“I missed you all month, you might be in this position for a while”

He smirked and pulls out of her, watching as her hole winked and shrunk back to it’s small size that once accommodated his thick fingers. Pulling the hood of her clit back, the pink button pops up from underneath, greeting him with a few twitches as her pussy clenched around nothing.

“Fuck, baby…”

She watched him with just as much affection, but his eyes were too fixed on her heat to glare back at her. Blowing cold air onto the bundle of nerves, he pulls a long moan from her and he smiles in return before taking four of his fingers a licking across the tips of them, his other hand still occupied with the hood of her clit as he did so.

He pumped fake a few times, lifting that hand to her pussy and making her flinch before his hand finally came down and spanked her sensitive clit, the woman nearly dropping the spliff in her hand as her chest rises, a shock of both pain and pleasure running through her core.

“Fuck!” She breathes, smoke exiting her mouth. She was quick to sit the drug down in an ashtray laid on the bed next to her, the man on his knees in front of her still laying smacks to her pussy until her legs were shaking and she was squirting all over herself. Swirls in her stomach and stars in her eyes, she almost thanked god that her ass was halfway off of the bed so her sheets didn’t get wet but she soon realized she celebrated too early, the large palm of his hand beginning to rub her entire pussy instead and replace the teasing strikes, all of the juices that were once just falling on the hardwood floor spraying on anything within ten inches of her. That included on herself too.

She couldn’t speak and tell him to let up off of her if she wanted to, her stomach felt like it caved in as she had yet to let go of her breath to continue receiving oxygen.

He opened his mouth and welcomed all that she gave onto his tongue, a smile also playing on his face. He loved it when it was messy, wet to the point where it could be considered soaked even. His goatee covered in pussy juice showed and proved that to be true, droplets of her dripping from his chin.

Even after she was finished he still went in and licked her up from her clit to the puckering rim of her asshole, fixated upon the idea to make her cum again if she’d let him.

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💌~ startin this thang off with some good ole pussy eatin, iktr!😼💀 hope yall enjoyed tho, i think imma really enjoy this lil series just cause it’s a bunch of random shorts and not an actual storyline 😭 like everything and everyone is connected still but it doesn’t matter until brought up lmao.

[gpcwsl]

Massage therapist for the arsenal team taking care of Leah after a tough training session trying to massage the knotts in her thighs but Leah is making y/ns job ten times harder with how she’s whimpering and moaning Leah turns onto her back and grasps y/ns hand in her own guiding it between her legs

First smut, kinda nervous, lol.

Leah Williamson x Masseuse!Reader | 18+ |

Your hands

WC: 667

Leah Williamson MasterList

MasterList

Warnings: NSFW | Massage Table Smut | Teasing, Begging, Fingering, Mutual Need

-

You always knew when Leah was coming in. She had this way of walking — confident, but tired — like she carried the weight of the whole club on her back. And maybe she did. You’d been her massage therapist for a while now, long enough to know every knot in her body. Every tight muscle. Every trigger point that made her shiver.

Today, she looked worn down — cheeks flushed from exertion, eyes heavy with fatigue and something else, something darker.

“Tough session?” you asked as she lay down on the table.

She groaned into the cushioned face cradle. “Felt like hell. Thighs are on fire. You’re gonna have to be mean.”

You chuckled softly, drizzling warm oil into your palms. “I’m always mean.”

Her smirk was audible in her voice. “That’s why I keep coming back.”

You started low on her thighs, the long muscles tight under your fingers. You pressed into her hamstrings, working upwards slowly. Leah breathed through her nose, controlled at first — but the second your thumbs hit the inside of her right thigh, just beneath the curve of her ass, her whole body jerked.

A low whimper spilled out of her.

You froze, a little startled by how raw it sounded.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Sensitive there.”

You tried to keep your voice steady. “That where it hurts?”

“That’s where I want your hands,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched, fingers pausing over the slick skin. She shifted, subtly at first, her legs parting just slightly, just enough.

You swallowed hard and kept massaging — but slower now, deliberate. The heel of your hand slid along the tender inner thigh, your thumb grazing dangerously close to where her towel barely covered her. Leah exhaled hard, and a tiny moan slipped out again, unmistakably aroused.

You paused. “Leah…”

She turned over suddenly, the towel slipping down to reveal her abs, the slope of her hips. Her thighs parted shamelessly as she looked up at you, flushed and breathless.

“I can’t stop thinking about you when I’m on this table,” she confessed. “Your hands… the way you touch me…”

Your mouth went dry.

She reached out, grabbing your wrist and guiding your slick hand down, down, until your fingers were resting right at the edge of her towel. Her hips arched into your touch.

“Please,” she whispered.

You slipped beneath the towel. Her skin was burning hot, wet already, and when your fingers brushed through her folds, Leah gasped — her head falling back, hands gripping the edges of the table.

You circled her clit first, slow and teasing, watching her come undone beneath your touch. She moaned, louder this time, and her legs spread wider, begging for more. Your fingers dipped lower, sliding inside her with ease, and she clenched around you instantly.

“Fuck—yes,” she gasped, hips rolling.

You leaned over her, pressing your mouth to her jaw, her neck, tasting the salt of her skin as your fingers pumped deeper. Leah tangled her hands in your shirt, dragging you closer, needy and desperate.

“Been thinking about this every time you touched me,” she whispered. “Every fucking time.”

“You should’ve said something sooner,” you muttered against her throat, curling your fingers until she cried out.

She bucked into you, breathless, legs trembling as you fucked her harder. The massage table creaked beneath her, her moans echoing off the walls. She was close — you could feel it in how she clenched around your fingers, how her thighs quivered.

“Come for me, Leah,” you breathed against her lips. “Let me feel you.”

She shattered with a cry, her whole body arching off the table as she came around your fingers. You held her through it, slowing your strokes as her thighs trembled and her breathing steadied.

When she finally opened her eyes, cheeks flushed and hair wild, she looked up at you and smirked.

“Well,” she murmured. “You definitely helped with the tension.”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss her. “That’s what I’m here for.”

[swanlakebaby]

seven minutes in heaven | pjm

prompt: seven minutes in heaven but with jimin

♡ pairing: bts!jimin x fem!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: smut, soft jimin, bts jimin, fem reader, bf jimin, intoxication, quickie, quick sex, kissing, cumming, orgasm, 18+

♡ word count: 1k

⸝⸝ note: kinktober 🤍 day twelve :)

• nsfw/18+

kinktober masterlist

-

“okay jimin, it’s your turn to spin the bottle next!” jungkook shouts excitedly, putting the empty soju bottle back into the center of the small group. the music was loud, the vibrations from the bass bouncing off of the walls.

jimin shrugs and casually spins the bottle. the group is quiet and attentive, eager to see who it lands on. the bottle begins slowing down. the group gets riled up, pointing at who they think it’ll land on. the bottle eventually comes to a full stop, pointed directly at you. the group snickers and giggles, pushing on you as they tease you. “oh shush.” you say, rolling your eyes and standing up.

jimin smirks and looks up at you as he slowly stands up. you follow behind him to the closet of the room. “have fun you two, and use protection if you have any!” someone from the group shouts with a giggle. you walk into the closet and turn the light on. you stand in front of jimin awkwardly, folding your arms across your chest. he stands there with his hands in his pockets.

awkward tension quickly builds, making you feel uncomfortable. you just wanted the seven minutes to quickly come and go. “so..” jimin says quietly. “so nothing. im still upset with you.” you snap.

“it was a long time ago, i told you this.” jimin says, stepping closer to you. “i don’t care.” you place a hand on his chest, refraining him from coming any closer. he leans his head down above you, staring at you. the heat coming off his body felt almost intoxicating.

“i don’t want you upset with me.” he says, not taking his eyes off of you. “you should’ve thought about that before doing what you did.” you push against his chest but his body is stiff in place. jimin chuckles. “you have me all to yourself for seven minutes— well five now.” you furrow your eyebrow. “and then after that? zero minutes. you’ll be off entertaining someone else again. i’ll pass.” you attempt to escape the trap he had you in and exit the closet. jimin blocks you and doesn’t allow you to pass. “give me atleast one kiss.” jimin puckers his lips stupidly as he waits for a kiss.

after a few moments, you give in and give him a small peck on the lips. when you pull back, jimin smirks and wraps his hand around your neck, pulling you back in for another kiss. your body completely melts under his touch and you kiss him back. “there. now back up.” you say. “don’t pretend to not enjoy kissing me.” jimin says, finally pulling back. the space goes quiet again. the only sounds being the music and shouting from outside in the party.

“you’ve got four minutes you two!” jungkook shouts. “see. that’s should be enough time for me to do what i wanna do to you.” jimin says with another smirk. “you’re gross.” you say with a small smile. you couldn’t help but feel flustered by his comment.

jimin slowly begins wrapping his arms around you, lowering his hands over and under your skirt. he begins playing with the edge of your panties, twisting the thin fabric in between his fingers. instead of being defiant, you stay still and look up at him. he bends his head down and begins kissing your neck sloppily, nibbling the sensitive skin on your collar bones. you wrap your arms around him and wrap a leg around his waist. things become intense then, jimin quickly pulling back and unbuttoning his pants. he wastes no time in taking off his boxers and exposing himself.

“i’ve needed you for so long.” he says with a groan, grabbing you and flipping you over, your face against the wall. you place your palms against the wall as jimin toughly pulls your underwear down to your ankles. he quickly slides into you, running his hands up and under your shirt, cupping his hands around your breasts as he impatiently fucks you. you try your best to conceal your moans. jimin grunts with every thrust, your wetness coating his inches.

he slides his hands down to your sides and grips them tightly. “two minutes!” jungkook shouts. jimin gets frustrated and grabs at your hair, lifting up your leg and fucking you with full force. your body pushes up against the wall, jimin slamming into you. you push him away and get on your knees. you grab his dick and put it in your mouth, sucking him off. he grabs your head and fucks himself your mouth. you reach your hand up and grip onto his shirt. jimin looks down at you with a smirk as you look up at him, his cock stuffed into your mouth.

jimin takes his dick out with a loud pop and stands you back up. “30 seconds!” jungkook says. “i wonder what’s happening.” he says to the group with a giggle.

he turns you over again, sliding back into you. he roughly places his hands back on your hips tightly. he pounds you, not slowing down until his body begins to shake. he releases his cum into you with a loud grunt. giving you deep hard strokes as your leg begins to twitch.

“time is up freaks! come on out.” jungkook bangs on the door. you bend over and pull your panties back up and try fixing up your hair as best as you can. jimin pulls up his pants. when you turn to face him, you see your lipstick marks all over his face and jawline. you giggle, but don’t mention it. “what?” jimin says. “nothing. let’s go.” you open up the closet door and walk out. “damn, what did yall do?” jungkook says, his eyes widening at jimin’s face. “mind your own.” jimin says as he sits back down. the group looks at him, their eyes fixated on this kiss marks. you can’t help but giggle as you sit back down.

“who’s next?” you ask the group.

-

tags: @ririkookiemonster

(comment/dm to be added)

[neohomez]

— jisung x fem!reader | nsfw | shy!jisung | sleepy grinding | creampie | soft whimpers | she does the work | consent established beforehand | shy boy loses it | wc: 1.5k

DNI: minors, men, blank/ageless blogs, kinkshamers. this is 18+ content. soft, messy, loving filth. if that’s not for you, keep scrolling.

warnings: unprotected sex, sleepy reader, shy whiny jisung, reader does most of the work, overstimulation, creampie, praise, body worship, soft dom/sub energy, heavy breathing, reader calls him “baby” and “daddy” once

⸻

it’s late when he gets home.

the apartment is quiet—just how jisung likes it. but tonight… he’s not okay.

his hoodie sleeves are pulled halfway over his hands, his hair messy and falling over his eyes as he toes off his sneakers at the door, body stiff from everything the day put him through.

he doesn’t say a word. just walks to the bedroom, dragging his backpack behind him.

he stops in the doorway.

you’re already asleep.

wrapped in the comforter like always, your back to him, hair spilling across the pillow. his side of the bed looks cold. untouched.

he drops his bag with a soft thud.

“baby…?” he whispers. nothing.

he walks over, climbs into bed careful not to wake you, but then

the blanket shifts.

your gown rides up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of bare skin.

no panties.

his whole body goes still. face flushed, eyes wide.

“…shit.”

you had told him before—

“if i’m sleep and you need it… you can have it, baby. i trust you.”

but he never actually thought he’d be brave enough to try.

until tonight.

his hands tremble a little as he pulls off his hoodie and slides under the covers. his heart’s beating so fast it’s dizzying.

he presses his chest to your back, lets his hand skim over your waist… down to your hips…

bare.

warm.

soft.

he lets out the tiniest shaky breath.

“you’re not wearin’ anything down here… f-fuck…”

he’s already hard. of course he is. his day was hell and now you’re laying here like this, thighs parted, warmth calling him in.

he lines himself up slow, his tip brushing your folds—

and you moan.

his hips stutter.

you’re still asleep, but you move. hips pushing back gently, like your body knows he’s there.

he slides in just an inch and your thighs twitch. another moan. higher. needier.

he whimpers.

“nnghh—mm… y-you feel so good already—”

he sinks in deeper.

and that’s when it happens.

you start moving.

your hips roll back slow. then again. then again.

like you’re chasing it in your sleep.

his face is burning.

“you’re doing all the work,” he breathes, biting his bottom lip, his hands frozen on your hips.

but he can’t stop watching.

can’t stop feeling you.

can’t stop losing it.

you start bouncing, little sleepy ruts, your thighs clapping against his lap. and he’s a mess—quiet whines in your ear, hands gripping the sheets because you’re riding him in your sleep and he might cry from how good it feels.

“baby, please—ah—d-don’t stop, just like that, just like—oh my god—”

his breath is shaking.

he presses kisses to your shoulder, your neck, still letting you grind into him, letting your body take what it wants.

you mutter something—eyes still closed—

“feels so good, daddy… ‘m close…”

his whole body tenses.

“o-oh—god—”

he grabs your hips tight.

“you can cum, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “you’re doing so good, i got you, i got—”

and you do.

legs shaking, body clenching down around him, soaking him while your back arches and you push back hard against his thighs, grinding through it with soft, broken moans.

he cums seconds later.

buried deep, face pressed to your shoulder, muffling his breathy whimpers as he fills you up.

you stay there. still. wrapped in him. both of you panting.

he strokes your thigh gently, whispering, “you’re so pretty like this… even asleep.”

and just before you drift off again, you murmur, “love you, baby…”

he smiles, cheeks pink.

“…love you too.”

⸻

taglist: @softboyjisungcult @messygirldreams @sluttyforchan @hanluvrr

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⸻

want more shy jisung fics? request box is open.

⸻

[ #jisung smut | #skz smut | #sleepy sex | #shy boy supremacy | #soft dom jisung | #reader does the work | #jisung x reader ]

[theartistaslisalee]

Reading some Subsmoke smut on AO3 has really rotted my brain, I can’t get enough of them as disturbing as it sounds! 😂😂😂. But it does keep me grounded in these uncertain times. Recently read one by @evilconcubinemk and I believe you can tell by this pic what the story is about. 😜😜😜

[yolehiho]

All Yours (NSFW)

G!P Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Warning: Smut, no plot, not proofread

Word Count: 927

"Would you be so kind as to remove your clothes for me, sweetheart? Vada's instruction softly resonated in her voice.

You promptly obliged with her request while gazing in wonder into her eyes. You were already having trouble breathing, and you could feel a puddle of slick building up beneath you at even the lightest of her touches.

You licked your lips as you began to take off your clothes, going as gently as you possibly could. Your fingers slowly worked their way down the front of your shirt, undoing each button as they went to show more of your skin. You let the top hang open, exposing the slender line of skin that runs from your neck to your waist.

You became quite vulnerable in front of Vada as she took you in.

Perfect! Vada sighed as she moved a large palm up one of your breasts and back down, eliciting a deep groan from you as it rubbed against your nub.

"Fucking perfect," Vada murmured.

You bit your lip and fought back another moan "thank you, baby". Attacking her lips

Your kiss conveyed desperation and neediness. She guides you down to the bed. You began to writhe around on the bed while you were kissing her, palming her lightly through her underwear.

She let out a groan as the contact was made, and you broke the kiss while staring intently into her eyes. "Take it off, please." Your voice was so desperate and full of desire that Vada leapt off the bed in a race against the clock to remove the garment.

Vada gave you a sly smirk as she tweaked your nipples and coaxed a groan from between your teeth. She purred. Fuck… you’re so needy," she said.

"I want to hear you say it." Her finger tips gently teased the rough spots on your rock-hard nipples as she circled them with her fingers. This caused you to whimper.

I'm your needy slut... mhmm," you moaned again.

"What do you want me to do, baby? Vada whispers, "Tell me and I'll do it." She delicately glides her fingers down the alley between your breasts until your shirt collar stops her. The action gave you chills.

Vada holds onto your shoulders, and you throw your head back.

"I want you to eat me," you whisper.

"Yeah?" Vada smiles wickedly, positioning herself between your legs. You want me to lick your pussy? Suck on your clit until you can’t take it anymore? Is that what you want, baby?

Please, fuck," you moan.

Suddenly, Vada's tongue, which was firm and wet, made a single lap, gently circling your clit. You squealed and bucked your hips. After she had fun with you for a while, Vada decided to put an end to the teasing by thrusting her tongue greedily into your cunt. Her strong arms wrapped around your thighs and drew them further apart, allowing her tongue to curl and probe deeper into your tight, trembling walls while her nose rubbed your swollen clit,

Vada withdrew her tongue, only to replace it with her two long fingers and shove them while licking your small, pulsating cunt. She watched you writhe around while listening to your whimpers and chuckled to herself in amusement as she did so.

Your teeny-tiny groans could be heard across the room. Vada examined. Fuck, you were so hot, so dripping wet, and so fucking tight.

Vada yanked out her fingers and replaced them with her cock because she could no longer wait. She inched closer, enjoying the sensation of her body melting into yours. Your apparent embrace, complete with heat and wetness, only serves to draw her in further. It almost rendered her incapable of forming complete sentences.

Vada is completely fixated on the idea of seeing her cock enter you. Watching the expression on your face causes her to feel an overwhelming sense of pride.

Mhmm... fuck, you’re so tight," Vada groans.

"Fuuuuuck," Vada moaned again as she rested her forehead against your back and groaned. "So damn tight. I think I might not last all that long."

"Vada, fuck… You're so big," you said, crying from pleasure.

"Fuck, baby, you’re amazing, she growled against your neck and into your ear. "And you’re close, aren’t you? Fuck, you’re growing so tight. Will you come for me?"

“Oh, god,” you panted, tilting your head back with a moan.

"Mine, all mine, you’re fucking mine," I said, hearing your adorable whines and groans as you nodded.

“Yours, Vada, only yours." whimpers

You shiver at Vada's arms as she pushes into you with hard, deep strokes, moving her hips and then pushing in and out, her cock glistening with your combined juices. Vada massaged your swollen clit and pushed you over the edge ruthlessly. Having this power over you was almost as thrilling as your scream of pleasure as you came closer, your entire body tightening down on her cock, completely full. Your legs shook with delight, as if your body couldn't handle the intensity.

You gasped loudly, your toes curling, your mouth wide in a loud cry, as you tightened down on Vada's cock, who had no chance as she cummed around you. Feeling Vada's juices inside you instantly made you cum as well. As you both kissed, your mouths moved to connect, eagerly seeking each other. You continued to move your hips to ride out your climax until you felt her cock soften inside you and eventually draw out. Vada groans because of lost contact as your mixed juices drip out of your pussy.

[lazysoulwriter]

i’m not leaving. not after this. - pedro pascal ── .✦

requested! thank you. content: 18+ (smut), pussydrunk!pedro, soft!dom energy, cursing, reader is in her twenties, first time hookup, clingy!pedro, post-nut confessions.

It was supposed to be casual. You both said that.

Dinner had turned into drinks, and drinks into laughter, and that laughter had stretched out until it was past midnight, and you were both stretched out on the only bed in your little hotel room—handsy, flushed, and a little buzzed from the wine and the chemistry.

You had straddled him without thinking twice. Pedro had let you. Of course he had.

And now… he was gone.

Not literally. Physically, he was very much here—his hands gripping your hips like you were something he was scared to lose, his mouth parted in awe beneath you, eyes glazed over as he looked down to where your bodies were connected.

But mentally? He was pussydrunk. And not doing a damn thing to hide it.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, voice barely a rasp, head falling back against the pillow. “Ohhh my fucking god.” You tried not to giggle, biting your lip as you rolled your hips slowly. “You okay there, old man?”

He blinked like he’d just been yanked back to reality. His hands squeezed tighter. “Don’t call me that. Not when you’re…” He groaned, deep in his chest, hips bucking up helplessly. “Jesus. You’re unreal. You’re… you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

You leaned down, kissing the sweat-slick skin of his throat. “I’m barely moving.” “I know,” he whined, half-laughing, half-moan. “That’s the problem. I can’t even fucking think.”

And he really couldn’t.

All he could focus on was the way you felt around him. Warm. Wet. Tight. How your skin was glowing in the soft lamp light. How your body moved like you knew what it was doing to him.

He couldn’t stop touching you. Couldn’t stop whispering, “so good, baby… fuck, you feel so good… i didn’t think it’d feel this good.”

You smiled as you leaned down, lips ghosting over his, breath hot. “You thought about it?”

Pedro nodded, forehead pressed to yours, curls damp with sweat. “Every night since I met you.” His voice cracked a little, like he wasn’t even embarrassed. “But this… this is something else.”

Your hips swiveled, and he shook. Brow furrowed, chest heaving, eyes fluttering shut.

“I’m gonna come,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, but I—I can’t last like this. Baby, please, please let me—”

“Pedro.” You cupped his face. “It’s okay. I want you to.”

And he melted. Just like that.

A low, drawn-out groan escaped his lips as his body arched into yours, hands gripping you like he’d fall apart without you. And when he finally stilled, panting, flushed, brain completely fried—he kept holding you.

He didn’t move.

Not even when you gently sat back, still seated on his lap, brushing his curls off his forehead.

“You alive?” He nodded. A lazy, dizzy smile on his lips.

“I’m not leaving,” he said suddenly. You blinked. “Okay…” “No, I mean it. I’m not leaving you.” You blinked again. “That… was just sex, Pedro.”

He tilted his head, eyes soft. “Not to me.” Your chest tightened. “You just came.” “Yeah,” he said, like he was absolutely fine being dramatic, “and now I’m in love. Deal with it.”

You threw your head back laughing.

And he pulled you down into his arms, kissing you again, whispering against your mouth:

“I’m so fucked. So, so fucked.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

---

taglist: @sarahhxx03 @lloydmustache @lolareadsimagines @greenwitchfromthewoods @silksepia @pascalswiftie @itstokyo-cos @mani-pedro @llsister @authorbriannarae13 @introvrtedjellyfish @aj0elap0l0gist @spencercmlover @cixrosie @cherrqbaby @cup-half-full-of-anxiety @joelmillerpascal @freakbobcult @sunlightpleasure @mooniscrying @ohnaurshayla @croissantbakerylws @nellispunk @kasienka @taylorswiftsrep-blog @emerencedaily @byzyz @noovaarq @kristend512 @alltounwell @libbyaller @beaagiannelli @broad-shouldrs @oceanmcu @kysosa @melloispunk @jollycupcakeblizzard @angvlicsoulll @needz1nk @daddypascal17 @agustdpeach @mrsbilicablog @k4t13ispunk @hotdadlvr95 @lnnysnts @pedropascalfan221 @queenofklonnie22 @christinamadsen @ilovecheriies @stvr-bloom @m4yb3-k3tlyn3

[hyunjinxgirl]

enhypen links♡

juicy prn links from X. - MDNI!!

₊˚⊹♡ squirting all over heeseung's dick

₊˚⊹♡ heeseung knows how to hit that point

₊˚⊹♡ jay keeps thrusting in you after your orgasm

₊˚⊹♡ being jay's good girl

₊˚⊹♡ "okay, but don't penetrate jakey!"

₊˚⊹♡ deepthroating jake

₊˚⊹♡ oral sex with sunghoon

₊˚⊹♡ sitting on sunghoon's face

₊˚⊹♡ sunoo loves suck on your tits

₊˚⊹♡ imagine sunoo taking care of you like this...

₊˚⊹♡ you didn't pay attention to jungwon

₊˚⊹♡ jungwon is being gentle

if you liked it, don't forget to like, reblog and comment your experiences. have a nice day! ♡

×××

[ingeniousmindoftune]

Hi i was wondering if you could write a fic about a virgin with either stack or smoke

“First Time for Everything”

Featuring Stack Moore (Michael B. Jordan) from Sinners (2025)

Reader Insert / Virgin Female OC Style / Modern day

Slow burn | Realism | Adult themes | Emotional depth | Emotional realism | Subtle intimacy

Words: 1,389

She felt the city’s pulse in her bones—the relentless drumbeat that lifted some and swallowed others whole. New Orleans in midsummer wore a heavy, sultry cloak: the air thick with steam, the low murmur of secrets slipping through cracked shutters, and tendrils of cigarette smoke drifting from open bar doors like gray ribbons. Tourists swarmed the French Quarter in camera-bright colors, never noticing the hidden heartbeat beneath the jazz. She did.

She savored the hush after midnight, when street lamps blurred into halos and the clatter of late-night traffic faded to a soft percussion. From the front desk of the Maison de Chartres—a peeling pastel building wedged between a smoky jazz lounge and a voodoo stall that only opened at dusk—she heard saxophone notes spiral down from a second-floor balcony, unwinding like warm jasmine perfume onto the sidewalk. Behind her desk of burnished mahogany, she was the silent anchor for a revolving cast of guests.

They came and went: weary salesmen in damp suits, backpackers with muddy shoes, couples in too-tight formalwear clutching plastic hurricane cups. None of them registered her pale face or the way her dark eyes tracked each arrival and departure. She was the fixed star in a sky of passing comets—always watching, never seen.

Then he appeared.

She didn’t know “Stack Moore” that first humid evening. All she saw was a man who inhabited the air around him as if he’d claimed it by right. He stood at the threshold, tall in a soaked charcoal overcoat, collar turned up against sudden rain, a wool scarf knotted at his throat. His gait was deliberate, silent—an echo of confidence that didn’t need volume to fill the room. His broad shoulders hinted at stories carved into muscle; his eyes, dark and unreadable, never gave anything away for free.

“You the night clerk?” His voice was low, a rumble she felt more than heard, like thunder through a wall.

She looked up from her laptop, mouth parting into a flicker of surprise. “Yes, sir—um, I am.”

He let a brief, crooked smile slip across his face, sharp as broken glass. “Don’t call me ‘sir.’ Ain’t earned it.”

Her fingers trembled as she swiped the check-in tablet. “Of course. Stack Moore?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You know me?”

“Just from the reservation.” Her voice floated in the hush between them.

He studied her for a beat too long, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze. “Good,” he said. “I like that.”

Over the next nights, he morphed into a living ghost. Always arriving just before midnight, alone, the hem of his coat dark with rain or something darker. Some evenings a bruise, pale and spreading, bloomed along his jaw; other times faint smears of dried blood crusted under his knuckles. She never asked. She simply slid his room key across the desk with the same controlled calm—her nod the ritual, his departure the final note.

He had money—of that there was no doubt. His matte-black car with tinted windows whispered power. Yet he chose this modest hotel: clean rooms, polished floors, an anonymity that let him slip through shadows. Maybe that’s why she watched, puzzled by his insistence on returning.

One night he lingered longer than usual, leaning against the cherrywood counter as she refilled the lobby candy jar. The tin echoed with each gumdrop she dropped inside. Outside, the street was slick with fresh rain, neon signs winking through puddles.

“You from here?” he asked, voice low.

She paused, lifting a handful of pastel mints. “Born and raised. Lower Ninth—before the flood.”

He nodded slowly, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his coat. “Most people run from something.”

“I’m not most people.” She didn’t look up.

He exhaled, a sound almost like relief. “That scares me.”

His patronage haunted her thoughts as she locked up each evening. What corners of the city swallowed him? Why did he always arrive with that look—eyes like ash, as if he’d just walked away from something burning?

Then came the thunderstorm that cracked everything open. She was about to turn the key in the front door when he burst in, drenched. Water dripped from his hair, his shirt clung to his ribs. A dark bruise marred his temple—angry, raw.

“You okay?” She stepped around the desk before she could think, heart pounding.

He met her gaze, tension coiling in his sternum. “You always this kind?”

She shrugged, cheeks warm. “Not always. Just with you.”

He paused, something in his expression softening, or maybe it was regret. “You ever been touched?” His voice went brittle.

Her breath caught. “What do you mean?”

He closed the distance, voice dropping until only she could hear. “You look like the type who’s never been kissed unless he asked real nice. You ever been with somebody, sweetheart?”

There was no cruelty in his question, only blunt curiosity. She swallowed. “No, I haven’t.”

He blinked, jaw flexing. “I didn’t think so.”

She could have shut him down—called security, turned him away. Instead, she said, “I’m not saving myself.”

His shoulders sagged in a silent concession. “I didn’t think that either.”

“I just never felt… safe. Not really seen.” Her voice was a whisper.

He reached out, brushing a wet curl from her cheek with a tentative thumb. “I see you. More than I should.”

She met his gaze, heartbeat echoing in her ears. “You scared of me?”

He gave a short laugh, bitter and low. “You don’t even know.”

That night they didn’t go to a room. They sat on the worn leather couch in the lobby, sipping mint tea from chipped porcelain cups, listening to raindrops drum against the skylight. He told her about a childhood shaped by alleys and hard choices; she spoke of books that became lifelines and dreams of distant cities. When his fingers found hers across the coffee table, she let him hold her hand.

Their first kiss came weeks later, not in a fevered rush but slow and certain, as if they’d been rehearsing in silence. He returned with styrofoam containers of oxtails and collard greens, a stack of vinyl records crackling with distant trumpets. He teased her about her first taste of spicy gravy; she laughed until her sides ached. He told her her lips made quiet seem holy.

“I want you,” she said one rainy afternoon, her voice soft but unshakeable.

He paused, eyes darkening. “This ain’t just a night. Not with me. I’m not built for perfect.”

“I’m not asking for perfect,” she replied. “I’m asking for you.”

He laid her flat across the bed in Room 307—white sheets smelling faintly of lavender—and tended to her with reverence. Each touch was deliberate. When she winced, he stopped. When tears came, he kissed them away. “You good?” he murmured.

“Never been more sure,” she whispered.

Afterward, they lay tangled in sweat and scent—his heartbeat against her ear, her fingers tracing the scar near his collarbone. He pressed her closer, voice husky. “You ain’t a secret now. You’re mine.”

She simply pressed her lips to his jaw and held onto the stillness.

But nothing golden ever lingers in New Orleans forever. At dawn, the air felt thicker, heavier. He stood by the rain-streaked window, their sheets pooling at his feet like a forgotten promise.

“I ain’t good for you,” he said, eyes on the gray morning sky. “You carry light. I got things chasing me that eat light.”

She rose on one elbow, brushing sweat-damp hair from her face. “Then stop running.”

He turned, pain flickering across his features. “You make it sound easy.”

“I’m not saying it is,” she replied, touching his cheek. “I’m saying I’m not afraid.”

He sank to his knees before her, voice raw. “You should be.”

She leaned down and kissed him—lips soft, determined. “I’m not. Not of you.”

Stack Moore was a sinner.

But to one quiet girl behind a hotel desk, he’d become a beginning. A first. A man who didn’t take but offered—a man who saw her not as something untouched, but someone worthy of careful handling.

Maybe the world wouldn’t understand.

She didn’t care.

Because when you’ve been invisible your whole life, the first person to truly see you becomes unforgettable.

And Stack?

He never looked away.