#started salivating again like i do sometimes too. . .

[onepiexe]

day 3 of migrainr. loopt doopy

[jesuistrestriste]

art is the MESSIEST kisser ever like if u make out his spit is literally everywhere. like he'll kiss u on the mouth then keep on kissing ur neck but w the wettest kisses ever. and i JUST KNOW he def drools. like when u give him head and his head is resting against a pillow, he's so lost in it that he can't even think. like the only thing he can do anymore is whimper and moan like a little bitch. and when u look at him u see him drooling all over the pillow😭

art donaldson has a messy mouth. he drools when it feels too good, he kisses with almost too much tongue when he's desperate, and his warm, eager lips are always on your skin whenever he gets a chance to touch you properly.

he practically salivates like a thirsty puppy on a hot day. it pools under his tongue whenever he catches a glimpse of the more intimate areas of your soft skin; the nape of your neck, your stomach, your inner thighs. and he has to try desperately to swallow it down when you two are in public and he can't get his lips on you.

the first time you and art made out, it was very sloppy. you thought this mightve been a result of minor inexperience on his part, or nervousness, or excitement, so you let it happen. you let him moan into your open mouth and grab at your shirt while he slid his pink tongue over yours. you let his sticky saliva mix with yours as your mouths mashed together. you let him kiss you and kiss you and kiss you until he came in his pants.

the whole ordeal lasted about 7 minutes.

after that, you had assumed that—in time—he'd get more reserved with his mouth as you two continued to be intimate.

but this didn't happen.

if anything, he only got more comfortable with you, and thus only became more orally-fixated and messy with his mouth.

he liked to suck on your fingers during sex.

he liked to slather your arousal with his spit when he went down on you.

he liked to kiss you wetly all over your body before bed.

he liked yearned for it all.

when you'd give him head, your slick lips bobbing over his tip and swallowing salty dribbles of precome, he'd drool all over whatever was near his mouth. it was just too hard to focus on not drooling when the warmth of your tongue got him close so fast. his eyes would get lidded and his knees would grow weak and his mind would turn to mush the second you started to blow him. sometimes you'd have to hold his hips to keep him steady. he was very predictable.

one thing you two like to do together is have art get on all fours on the bed, knees spread apart with his cock hard and hanging between his thighs. his hands will go up and squeeze onto the pillows as he lowers his head and lets you jerk him off.

it’s kinda demeaning, in a way; being milked like a cow.

but you like doing it to him, and he likes whatever you like, so he loves this.

when your hand starts to stroke his cock, strings of pre leaking from his slit, his arms will usually start to shake. it'll start at his shoulders, and then go down to his elbows, and then end when his wrists can't hold him up anymore. he'll let himself collapse down onto the cushions without more than a whine of protest and a renewed tint of pink across the bridge of his nose. his head will lay on one side of his face, his lips parted to let out whimpers and whines as his hips jolt, and then it’ll start.

he’ll drool.

all over.

down the side of his face, over his bottom lip, down his chin. it all happens depending on how his head is positioned. but he always, always, always slobbers on the pillow a little.

just as his eyes start to roll back, and his pelvis starts to shallowly move to thrust his cock into your moving grasp, his sweet and sticky saliva will dribble down his face someway and soak into the pillowcase.

he can't help it.

because, again, you make it hard to pay attention to anything other than how good you make his dick feel. it throbs in your hand.

when you catch a glimpse of his drooling, you usually smile and speed up your touch.

"Art, baby-" you'll coo to him, "drooling."

and he'll know right away what you mean.

"Anghh— feel s'good, s'good— 'm sorry, 'm sorry," he'll inevitably slur.

he'll try to wipe it with the back of his hand, but he's usually shaking too much for that to do much of anything. it more just smears the transparent fluid across his flushed face.

slurp. wipe. whimper.

a few more strokes of your hand, and a thumb pressed right under his cockhead, is all he needs to let go after that point.

his eyes will roll back as he cries out and bucks into your fist, shooting and coating the bedding underneath with his load. he'll tremble and whine until his hands grasping at the sheets below have the instinct to fly between his legs and stop the overstimulation. you generally let up soon after he makes that known.

after you clean him up and ease him into bed, he'll make sure to kiss you goodnight. and it's messy and needy and a little bit too much, but you let him do it anyways. he's eager to please, and he's eager to show you how much he appreciates the way you take care of him. he’s just eager.

maybe one day you'll get sick of how much tongue he uses when he kisses, but you doubt it. it’s just so perfectly him.

[flowershines]

I’m just better

Summary: Your boyfriend loves to show you off to his friends and shows them how lucky he got, even if that means fucking you in front of them

Warnings: Smut, deepthroat, caught, fucking in front of others, boner, blowjob, teasing, jealous Heeseung (lmk if i missed any)

Not proof read

Spending all of your time with your boyfriend meant that you basically lived in the dorms with him and his roommates. You felt comfortable hanging out with all of them because they treat you like you are their roommate too, so when you weren’t hanging out with your boyfriend you would sometimes walk out to the living room and hang out with whoever was in there. Heeseung would sometimes question why you are so close with them as he tells himself to not think much of it and should just be glad that you are getting along with his friends but when they get really touchy, he gets protective over you and would talk to them saying how they need to keep their hands off of you.

Walking into the living room most of their heads turned to you, looking around you see most of the seats were already taken so you decided to sit on the floor in front of your boyfriend as you walked in front of him his hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you onto his knee wrapping his arm around you, putting his hand back on the controller continuing to play the game. His body started to tense up since most of the other players died and it was him versus Jake, he held his breath till he absolutely couldn't anymore which made you not only look at how fast his fingers were moving on the controller but the way his lips fell in between his teeth. You just started to admire him, he was so gorgeous and he wouldn't even pay any attention to how perfect he is.

With every minute that passed by the more boredom filled through your body, not even being entertained by your boyfriend playing his game, you shifted forward on his leg and pulled out your phone from your back pocket and opened tiktok. You did not expect the most jaw dropping, mouth salivating edit of Jay, you finished the edit and placed your phone back in your pocket hoping that nobody had seen what you just witnessed. Turning to both sided you see that you were in the clear as all of them were staring at the screen or on their phones meanwhile you couldn't even look at Jay.

Your train of thought was quickly pulled away as your boyfriend's head fell onto your shoulder. You looked at him then to the side and seeing Jake celebrating, the man behind you grumbled into your shoulder about how unfair that was. “You did good.” You told him which made him pick his head up and pull you into a kiss, the sound of gagging and ‘eww’ made him smile on your lips. He pulled away from the kiss and whined “You guys are no fun.” then pulled you back onto him so your back was resting on his chest, “It’s not our fault you do that in front of us, go get a room.” he smirked “That’s for later.” his roommates gave him a disgusted look and faked throwing up. “I’m leaving you guys are nasty.” Niki explains as he gathered his things and left the room and started to head down the hallway to his bedroom, “What did I do?” you asked quietly, making some of them look at you “It's not you we are disgusted by.” Jay said, turning to face Heeseung. “It's not my fault that I love my girlfriend, you guys are just jealous.”

After some time of watching your boyfriend’s roommates play games on the screen, you starting to hear an occasional knock on the door which brought in new people every minute, you were confused because you knew that people were coming over but they said it was only a couple of people yet everyone filled up the entire dorm. “Want a drink?” Your boyfriend asked as he had his hands on your hips motioning you to stand up, following his motions you stood up as he squeezed around you and the people around you both. “No i’m good.'' With that he walked into the kitchen as you pulled your phone out once again and went onto your favorite game and started to play it while waiting for your boyfriend to get back.

Till your gaze was pulled away as someone started to talk to you, “What’cha playing?” you looked up to see Jay sitting next to you. The question he asked had you turning your phone to show him. “Heeseung went to get drinks and I got bored.” He turned his head to the kitchen as he saw Heeseung talking to one of his friends ``Why don’t you come with me? We can go into the kitchen and get something to eat.” You whined but he had his hand wrapped around your wrist pulling you in the slightest bit, “Come on it will be fine, plus I could hear your stomach from a mile away.” he commented as you smiled. Walking into the kitchen your boyfriend gave you a glance and a smile before he winked at you then returned his gaze to the man in front of him. “Cookie?” You shook your head “Chips?” once again followed by shaking your head “What are you hungry for?” you shrugged “Why don’t you go into the fridge and see what we got.” he said as he opened the fridge door as you walked up to it and bended forward to see what there was but not only was Jay standing right behind you but your ass rubbed up against him which caused you to shoot up and turn around.

“What are you guys doing?” You hear your boyfriend say from behind you, causing you to peek your head around to see him staring at you both with one eyebrow cocked, “I was just getting a snack and Jay was helping me pick one out.” as Jay nodded to the man. “Why did you stand up so fast?” you looked around for a second “Oh.. Well I just found the snack that I wanted.” he gave you a questioning look as you reached into the fridge and held up a bag “Carrots?” you nodded. “Yup, who doesn’t love carrots.” He gave Jay a glare and grabbed your hand as you both walked into his room, he shut the door behind him turning to you and saying “Be honest, carrots?” you looked down and wanted to be honest with your boyfriend “No, Jay was helping me pick out a snack because I didn't know what to pick out and he held the fridge door open for me so i snuck in front of him and looked to see what was in the fridge but when I bent down I was not only bent down in front of him but my ass rubbed up against him and I felt- nevermind. But Then I shot up because I was surprised and that's what happened.” You said still looking at the floor with the carrot bag still in your hand.

“Wait we aren't going to ignore that like you just didn't say anything you felt his what?” He asked sitting on his bed and pulled you closer so your standing in front of him while he sits, “When I bent down in front of him I felt his dick, it not anything really bad.” he huffed as he placed his hand on your chin making you look up at him. “Not bad, Y/n?” You didn’t say anything, “I don’t want my girl feeling another man’s dick on her.” “But Hee it wasn’t either of our faults, it was an accident.” “Accident my ass, he had to see you bent down like that in front of you.” You walked around him and sat on the bed by where his pillows were causing him to turn around while you patted the empty spot next to you which was soon filled with his body next to you.

He wasn’t mad which made you feel a lot better but you were really confused on why he kept bringing Jay up because it was about half and hour since he brought you into his room and questions about his friend was still being talked about, at this point everybody left including Niki but his roommates were still screaming at the tv as they played a video game. He grabbed you hand and suggested that you both go and join them which you couldn’t say no so you followed him into the room with his roommates as they greeted you both. Heeseung sat right next to Jay and put you on his lap but before he did he turned you around so you were facing him, that way when you sat on his lap you would be straddling him. Sitting down you rested your head on his shoulder facing his neck while still being able to see the screen, his hands snaked down to your waist as you thought nothing of it and continued to watch the screen. Until you felt his hands start to move your hips back and forth on his lap, you immediately started to try and stop his movements as there are other people in the room but he ignored you.

“Heeseung.” You whispered in his ear not wanting to aware the others of his movements, he didn’t say anything back but his breaths started to get more heavy causing Jay to almost look but thankfully he didn’t because of a loud noise on the screen. “We can go in the bedroom and do it but not out here please.” You lifted up your head which only lead to him attacking your neck with kisses, “I’m just showing them that your mine.” he said in between kisses “They already know that, let’s just go.” shaking his head in response causing Jay to look over, “Are you guys serious right now?” he asked while the other roommates look at what you both are doing. You tried your best to get Heeseung’s hands off of your hips but he wasn’t budging, “Come on man.” Jake said as he looks away from the screen “Don’t act like this is your first time seeing her like this.” you moved your head up from his shoulder and looked at him then Jake. “Huh?!” “Remember the other night, the door was accidentally open a bit and you will never guess who i saw peeping in the crack of the door while jerking his shit to you riding me.”

The room went completely silent as Jake’s cheeks flushed red , “Oh that’s not even half of it Y/n, you talk about how they are all so innocent and how they don’t like you in that way yet Sunoo jerks off to your selfies, Jungwon is constantly staring at your body mostly your ass, Sunghoon gets off to your moans when we have sex, and Jay.. you don’t even wanna know what he does.” A cricket could be heard from the room as how completely silent it went after he talked, everyone was to embarrassed to even look at you. “So to answer your question, no i’m not going to stop because they need to know that your mine even if that means fucking you in front of them.” You were completely stunned by his words all of you were, needless to say he stuck to his words and kept moving your hips on him.

Even though it felt off to be this sexual in front of his friends none of them got up and left or made any noises they stayed put as they watched you both, “See now they shut up since you know their dirty little secrets about you.” his lips started to move to your neck as he kissed you between each word he said “God your so perfect.” you started to hesitate from all of his friends eyes on you till he comforted you saying “Don’t worry, they like seeing you like this. They just wish they were the ones fucking you and not me.” Turning around to see his friends, you were right all of their eyes were fascinated on you both but something you saw gave you a confidence boost and went along with Heeseung’s actions, as you went to put your head back onto his shoulder out of the corner of your eye you see Jays hand moving up and down.

You moved your head to get a clear view as you saw how he was stroking himself over his pants while his bulge was clearly prominent, your boyfriend was right they did like seeing you like this. Heeseung’s hands started to move down onto your ass as he started the very awaited movements again but instead of just him moving you placed your hands on his shoulders and started to grind on him, “Good girl.” he said as he grunted through his teeth. The more that you grinded on your him the more sporadic his movements became, his hands would not leave your body, his veins started to show from how tight he was holding onto you, his cock would twitch with every movement you made, and his expressions would easily show just how good you made him feel.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and give them a show, suck my cock.” He wasn’t asking and you weren’t complaining, it started to make you more and more wet by just the thought of having his friends watching you both have sex while they get themselves off. Getting up from his lap and to your knees you sat in front of him as he placed one of his hands on your cheek while the other started to undo his pants while his eyes never broke contact with yours, starting to get impatient on how long he was taking you ran your fingers along the outline of his bulge that stuck out in his pants. Which resulted to him letting go of your face and holding your wrist to stop your motions, “Don’t tease me right now because I will bend you over the couch and fuck you while they watch. Do you understand me?” you nodded “Words princess.” looking up at him as his grip on your wrist loosened. “Yes.”

He didn’t say anything else as he moved his pants and boxers to his knees, picking up your hand and wrapping it around his cock slowly starting a constant movement of jerking him off then teasing his tip. His hands traveled to your hair as he pulled it up into a ponytail which was always his way of telling you that he wants you to put him in your mouth, doing so you kitten licked his tip and started to go down further onto his cock the further you went down the tighter his grip had gotten on your hair. Looking up at him you see how his head was thrown back with his adams apple poking out, your eyes traveled to the man next to him resulting in you both making imitate eye contact neither of you looked away even when you started to deep throat your boyfriend.

Not wanting to turn your head and make it obvious you were looking at his friends getting off to this, you could just tell because the silence that was in the room is now filled with breathy moans, small grunts, heavy breathing, and more small noises they let out. You hadn’t noticed before but Heeseung’s gaze was back on you as he saw you and Jay staring at one another as you sucked him off, “You getting off to this?” he asked while looking at you not being able to pick your head up you just hummed on him which caused him to moan because of the vibrations. “Fuck this, get on my lap. Need to be in you, now.”

Following his instructions and sitting on his lap you stripped yourself till you were left in your bra and underwear as you were not completely comfortable with being naked in front of all of them, Heeseung figured this out easily and didn’t say anything about taking them off and just moved your panties to the side as he slowly started to move you down on his cock but always making sure you have enough time to adjust to his size. Soft moans fell from your lips as he never failed to make your body feel good, you started to move up and down on his cock while his fingers digged into your hips filled with desperation.

The sound of someone spitting pulled your out of your trance of please causing you to turn your head to the noise as you see spit leaving Jake’s lips as it fell onto the tip of his cock sliding down his base, picking your eyes up and looking around the room you see the guys who were sitting there making occasional noises either had their dicks out and were jerking themselves off or they did it over their pants and boxers. You could cum just from the sight of all them getting off to you but you decided to just focus on you and your boyfriend’s pleasure, his hips started to rut up into you as your movements just wasn’t enough for his pleasure and he needed more of you. He brought one of his knees higher so that way he can lift you up and fuck up into you, you didn’t mind because it would give your legs a break.

Grunts and moans fell from his lips along with occasional swearing about ‘how fucking good you feel’, ‘so fucking good’, ‘fucking hell’ or even just ‘fuck’. Moans filled the room as they started to get louder and louder with each passing moment, even though they were getting close you had no idea of Heeseung was. He usually moans loud and gets more noisy but since his friends are here you just think he doesn’t want to be as loud as he can get, if he wasn’t about to cum soon you sure were the thought of all of them and your boyfriend fucking up into you like he has never fucked you in ages was finally getting to you. Feeling yourself reach your limit you moaned to your boyfriend “Fuck keep going, i’m gonna cum. Cum with me, please.” the sound of skin hitting one another echoed through the room, some of his friends already came just from hearing such a lewd comment fall from your lips.

While others wanted to cum when you did including your boyfriend, he was getting close his cock kept uncontrollably twitching inside of you hitting your g-spot in all the right ways. “Fuck” You whispered as your climax hit you like a bus as you came on your boyfriend, just as you came he was not that far behind you while he quickly pulled out and squirted his cum all along your stomach. “Thank you.” He said as he pulled you closer to him while you cuddled into his chest, “You got really lucky man.” you hear Sunghoon mention to him. “I’m just better than you guys that’s why.”

[kooqitas]

#pairing: yoongi X reader #synopsis: eating your pussy is like a amusement park for your boyfriend #wc: ~850 #notes: not proofread, english isn't my first language!

#tags: pwp(!), oral (f.) eating pussy, dom!yoongi, overstimulation, cumming in pants. | inspo by hc yoongi

★ m.list | inbox

you knew it was ruined when yoongi went between your legs.

you knew he would spend many minutes there, eating your pussy is like a amusement park for him, the best part of the sex. 

he kissed you on the lips, over your panties, jesus, you are really ruined.

"i haven't even started yet and you are wet?" he provoked you.

“shut up, yoongi!”

“i will!” 

he smiled to you, and in the next second his mouth back for your down lips, kissing soft the lace of your panties.

yoongi kissed you through your panties, rubbing his lips slowly against the fabric, making you feel every inch of his thin lips touching you. and he laughed when he saw how wet you were getting with that simple act.

“stop laughing!” you teased him. but yoongi didn't answer you.

he ran his index finger slowly across the wet panties, making your thighs tremble at the touchand then he lightly bit your panties, which made you moan, and then he pushed your panties to the side.

fuck, yoongi salivated when your pussy was exposed to him, you literally saw the drool running down his mouth, the way he looked fascinated at the mess he had made in just a few minutes over you, it was kind of embarrassing, but the the way he looked at you made up for all the embarrassment.

“i want you smearing me, leaving your smell all over my face, my tiny slut!”

he rubbed his nose on your wet hole, making you shiver from the different contact, but yoongi didn't take long to put his tongue in your pussy, doing what he did best: sucking you.

“fuck!” you moaned as soon as you felt him part your lips only to spit, making the saliva flow into your hole that was already calling for him.

yoongi was agile when his tongue entered you, sucking every inch of your pussy in a way that only he knew how to do.

yoongi lets out a quiet moan as you grab his hair, leaning down toward you gently and looking at you with a devil look in his eyes. "already? calm down, you know i’m going to spend the whole night here…”

yoongi's calmness is something that irritates you (a lot), he continues tasting you with the greatest calm in the world, while you start to lift your hips, trying for more contact.

“i need more, please” you begged.

yoongi leaves a light bite on your clit, which makes you close your legs around his head a little hard, of course it hurts, but he doesn't care, on the contrary, he loves your reaction.

for a few minutes he just sucks you, alternating between your clitoris, your wet hole, sometimes rubbing his nose, his chin, making you smear all over his face, leaving your smell there. his hips lifting more and more and your moans getting louder and louder until you finally came in his mouth.

you think it's finally going to end, but in the next second yoongi still has his tongue in you, seeming even more determined to continue his own service, putting you in a mental space you didn't even know you were capable of reaching.

it was too much, the overstimulation hitting you hard while he didn't let go of his mouth from your pussy, you knew he wouldn't stop (except with the use of your safe word), you and he knew you could take more.

"t-too much!" you moaned as you tried to release yoongi's strong hands from your thighs, but of course it was no use, he was much stronger than you and besides, he was determined to give you a second orgasm.

eating your pussy was yoongi's playground!

“no, baby, let me suck that pussy some more, hmm? i like this so much!” he said before going back to sucking your pussy voraciously.

you try to escape his arms again, not because you really want to, but your body reacts to the overstimulation on its own, and the way yoongi grabs your hips, forcing you to stay in place makes you cry with lust.

he spits twice on your pussy, before slapping it hard and going back to eating there, you close your legs again, but yoongi is a little violent in the way he opens them just to continue sucking you

you pull his hair and that just motivates him even more, if that was even possible.

you feel your body shake and the blurred vision makes you wonder if you're going to end up passing out, but in the next second you feel your body cumming again, and you scream yoongi's name so loud that you know all the neighbors will hear it.

you're a wreck, but as soon as yoongi finally lets you go and lies down next to you, you realize that his black underwear is completely wet, fuck, yoongi cummed in his pants while sucking you.

"can you sit on my face or is your leg still shaking?" your boyfriend asked once your breathing calms down.

ah, yeah, yoongi really has a tongue technology.

[bratphilia]

office chair (w. afton x reader)

request: "hi angel!!! ummmmmm…….. could you possiblg write some big age gap, lap riding and kissing + teasing with steve raglan/mathew lillard william? asking for a friend.."

note: sorry it's a little short but i hope you enjoy anon!!

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is 18-21, william is like 45-50+), dry humping, riding, make out session, implied friends w/ benefits

you're in his office. again. surprise, surprise. but you both knew what you were getting into the moment you locked eyes in the waiting room of his office. especially once he locked the door behind him after you entered.

steve has had you on every surface of this office. even up against the walls. bent over the desk, on the little couch in his office — fuck, even on the floor.

you don't quite know what it is that makes him so attractive to you. he's a weird guy, to be honest. he's enigmatic and distant about his past and his emotions, whenever you've tried to actually talk to him. for now, you chalk it up to his age. you've never seen what he looked like when he was younger, but he aged like fine wine.

anyways, you're sitting in his lap in his desk chair. you've been in this exact position many times before, but that never takes away from how exciting it is. he's cradling your face with his hand and in control of the kiss you two are entangled in.

steve's mouth moves against yours, slow and sensual. his tongue guides yours in a slow dance. sometimes it's rough when he has little patience, or running on a low budget of time, or when he deals with an annoying client. but this time, the two of you have all the time in the world. whenever the two of you break apart for air, you press your foreheads together, listening to each other breathe.

over the time of your kiss, you become increasingly needy. so much so that steve takes notice. "want me that badly, huh?"

you begin grinding your hips against his jeans. the friction feels absolutely delicious against your clothed clit, making you whimper. "'need you."

he chuckles. "you already have me, sweetheart."

"steve, please."

he takes a moment to appreciate you. wandering eyes travel down and up your body, to where you're pushing your hips against him desperately, to your heaving chest, and to your eyes squeezed shut as you chase any kind of relief you can get. "i won't torture you, baby."

your heart soars. you hop off his lap, begrudgingly, and for a moment you miss being close to him, but he starts unbuckling his belt, practically making you salivate. he only pulls his cock out, leaving on his pants on. you wordlessly follow suit and take off your panties. purposefully, you leave your skirt on. you know all too well how he likes it.

he pats his thighs to beckon to to come sit. your heart thumps already with excitement. you hop on his lap, instantly sinking yourself down on his hard length. the both of you moan in unison. steve's hands find their way to your hips and pushes your pencil skirt up so it's bunched around your lower waist.

"ride me, baby," he almost grunts. you place your hands on his shoulders and begin to move at a slow pace. moving up and down, up and down, up and down.

steve is leaned back lazily. his gaze switches from your pretty face and down to where your pussy is sliding against his cock. his expression is just too good. flushed red face, sweat beading on his forehead, and pupils dialated.

you try to move faster but it's hard with your stamina and the position you're in. "help me out?" you ask in a sweet, fucked out voice, one that's music to his ears.

without another word, he uses his grip on your hips to guide you at a faster pace. soon enough, you're riding him with reckless abandon. your moaning freely at this point and the sounds you're making bring him closer to the edge.

knowing how much you love it, he leans forward and whispers dirty praises in your ear. "you're doing so well f'me, love dove, riding my cock so well."

"mmm," you moan in response. you wrap your hands around his neck and he takes the initiative to bury his face is the crook of yours.

you feel your own orgasm approaching as your whining gets louder. you both stopped caring who hears you a long time ago. steve can feel his own orgasm approaching closer too as his own grunts and groans increase in longevity.

he pulls you down and up on his cock faster, encouraging your movements. "come on baby girl, come for me. come for me, i'm close too."

the both of you finish at the same time. he pulls you down on his member to sit still as hot spurts of his cum shoot into you. you both moan at the same time as you take in the feeling of your insides being painted by him and your pussy clenching around him.

when the both of you calm down, the room is filled with the quiet sound of breathing. steve doesn't pull out yet and holds you close to him and peppers kisses on your face, your neck, and your chest, while you lay your head on his chest.

[livecrow]

You've been kidnapped by the local butcher and he convinces you he's going to fucking eat you.

Dark!Ghost x fat fem reader drabble

CWs: rape, dehumanization, gaslighting, bondage, undiscussed kink(?), animal play(?), threats and talk of cannibalism but no actual cannibalism. The details are gone into extensively, but it’s all a game to Ghost and he never intends to follow through on any of the threats. 

(A tidied up and extended ramble I subjected @391780 to on anon. Inspired directly from their post where Butcher!Simon draws a diagram of beef cuts on you.)

_____________________________________________________________

It’s pretty immediately obvious he’s a murderer. He’s probably a serial killer for all you know.

In reality, Simon doesn’t consider himself a serial killer, despite his body count. He’s just someone who doesn’t have qualms dealing with nuisances. He’s a retired vet, after you’d killed enough people, what’s a few more? 

No, his kills were just business, practical. They were men who made the mistake of getting in his way, of being inconvenient. Most, anyway—there’s at least one or two whose only crime was being an especially annoying cunt. Sometimes, some people  “jus’ need killin’”. 

As a butcher, he does find the implication funny, but no, he’s not eaten any of the scum he’s off’ed. “Don’t serve ‘em up to customers, neither”. After all, Simon’s got far higher standards than that. They weren’t even fit for dog food and he has a reputation to uphold. No one can compete with his quality. 

No, you’re nothing like them. You’re special.

Never in his life had he seen a prettier creature—and you’re absolutely prime. He’s salivating just looking at you, plump and oh so soft. He can see it in the way your skin wobbles gently as you move about. Simon couldn't find a straight line on you. And he’s looked. He’s been transfixed watching you, aching.

You live your life meandering obliviously, no brand in sight, not even a tag on your ear. He's surprised no one else snatched you up. Poor thing left to fend for itself ‘s cruel. Nothing else to it. 

Wrangling you was simple, it’s not like your large form actually offered you anything towards your defense. It was easy, really. Your lack of instincts was staggering, it was even more shocking that you lasted this long, he almost couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

You were clueless to the danger, even when it was directly in front of you, it only endeared you to him. Your eyes roved over him, not paying him any mind, just carrying on about your undoubtedly inane business. Only when he was on you and it was too late did you start to kick up a fuss.

The look of panic on your face was just priceless. All this crying and babbling nonsense like, “What are you doing?!” and “Stop!”.

Simon's main concern was not damaging you too much, he was careful. Just a single huge bicep around your neck and any fight you had seemingly evaporated with fright. You're bent over in a headlock, his grip as rigid as a pillory, but he’s not applying enough pressure to actually choke you. You’re just forced helplessly to come along or be dragged.

Not that it would have mattered if you were too wild to be led, he would simply tighten his hold, and allow up a quick nap. He’d pull out the dolly, load up the truck and be on his way.

On the big stainless steel work table the metal stings you even through your clothes. Unfortunately for you, even that scant protection doesn't last. The sight of the shears was enough to paralyze you again, and with a handful of strategic snips, Simon rips your last vestiges of humanity from you. All your skin transforms to gooseflesh, shivering on the table, but your nipples is where his roaming gaze finally settles.

He’ll have to remember to adjust the heat later. After all, “‘s a bit early to start chillin’ you”, he’d chuckle. You were a bit of silly thing, he thought. Maybe it’d be a minute till you’d actually catch on.

You're his little prize. Simon will coddle you, give you plenty of softness and warmth. You’ll not want for blankets, pillows, and other such treats, but not a stitch of clothing will ever touch your skin again. There would be no hiding your nakedness.

“Clothes? Clothes ‘re for people, what y’ need clothes for?” he scoffed. You don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s a question, because he doesn’t want you to answer. A dog doesn’t answer “who's a good boy?” does he? 

He’s measuring you, jotting things down. You think distantly that the pencil looks puny in his fist. While he's at it, he's feeling and squeezing every inch of you. You’re groped and prodded like some saran wrapped package of beef at the grocery store.

Only when you think there’s finally a reprieve, you’re being hogtied. You’re trussed up in practically half a roll of twine, fat bulging between the strands, desperate to escape its bite. Simon says it looks good on you, can’t resist taking one of your new little rolls between his fingers, giving you a teasing pinch. You struggle of course, but the terrifying man commands you to “Settle”, says the only thing your fussing will get you is rope burn. 

He claps you on the ass affectionately, assuring you that the scratchy string is only temporary. He knows a guy for leather, does good work. All hand stitched. Simon will have a proper harness made for you. Something with a lot of d-rings. It will be more comfortable for you and he can situate you how he likes with minimal bruising or chaffing. 

As he admires your skin, he’ll remark offhandedly that he’ll have to ""'ave somethin' from you" too. He’s not usually one to bother, but it’d be a travesty to waste hide like yours. Couldn’t find more supple could y’? He hasn’t decided what’ll be yet, he’ll need to do some maths to figure out how much material you'll make. Behind his mask and the façade of impassivity, he savors your reaction. That’d be about the first time your consciousness flees from you.

Simon will lay it on thick, praise how "well-marbled" you are. Delectable. So plump and well-fed, you can't blame him for any of this, really. He'll say something about kobe beef and taking good care of you. He’ll massage you daily, knead every inch of you between his huge oiled hands. He'd take his time, temple t' toes. You couldn’t get a knot in a muscle if you tried.

Your more delicate bits don’t escape his tender ministrations either. He takes painstaking work in rubbing your insides down with thick fingers, wringing orgasms from you until you're limp and still as the rest of the meat in his shop. Says it’s good for the flavor, will make you even sweeter.

It’s all completely horrifying, it has to be a nightmare. He says all this so casually, like he’s telling you the time of day. This man is truly completely deranged. 

His hands are always on you, it’s never fucking ending. He's taken it upon himself that you never “exert” yourself and you have no choice in the matter. Bastard won’t even let your hands free to eat or bathe. He "grooms" you. Brushes your hair, trims your nails, cleans your teeth, brushes, lathers, rinses, dries, moisturizes your skin. It’s humiliating and you hate every second of it.

The juxtaposition is too much, the horror and absurdity of it all. All the restraints and manhandling, your looming demise, while insisting on soft surfaces for you, water temperature just right, food carefully curated and cut up just so. He won’t let anything happen to spoil the meat.

He doesn’t spare any expense on your “feed” either. You eat what he eats, might as well be eating off his plate. Albeit simple, it’s good food, you don't see a point in denying it. It's fresh and flavorful and to no one’s surprise it includes a lot of meat. Always from his shop of course, only the best for you.

He’ll bring out some new parcel every night for dinner, unfolding the brown paper wrapping, holding up to you to admire his work. “‘S a ribeye”. He goes on about the marbling, the even color of the meat. “Couldn’t find fresher” he’d say, "was only jus' bleedin' this mornin'".

You’re his captive audience. There’s nothing else you can do but warily watch him make dinner, even if seeing a blade in his hand gives your heart palpitations. Steak, sautéed mushrooms, jacket potatoes, roasted broccoli.

You’ve long since stopped fighting him when it comes to meals. Because it can always get worse. After being bent over on the floor, forced to eat off a dish without the use of your hands, you’d resigned yourself to the fact that eating off his fork was a sufferable compromise. Still, if he’s in a mood he won’t even allow that. You'll eat off his fingers, and he’ll laugh at your expense and chide you when you inevitably “make a mess”. 

The food was prepared, but this time the kitchen knife didn’t leave his grasp. It wasn’t a steak knife. It was too big and not serrated, but that didn’t seem to bother Simon. It certainly bothered you. Its presence loomed like a guillotine in your peripheral.

He feeds you bites between his own. Every mouthful and he looks so pleased. You desperately missed his mask at meal times. At least then you couldn’t see his smug fucking face.

On the plate the steam billows and curls. The meat gives easily under your molars, practically melts in your mouth. Hot and rich and juicy, it’s basted in butter, with garlic cloves and sprigs of rosemary, seasoned with cracked peppercorn and flakey sea salt. It’s a touch rarer than you’d like. 

You wish you were capable of escaping the horror of it all for even a second, pretend you were anywhere else, with anyone else.

Simon punctuated his first bite with a low rumble of approval, watching you with those dark, cavernous eyes. He’d continued in that way, a man content in silence.

”...you'll taste better.”

He waited until your last bite to say it, maybe that was mercy on his part. The meat transformed in your mouth, became sinewy and bitter. You couldn’t swallow, and went to spit it out. But he expected that apparently, was on you in a second. Giant rough hand sealed over your lips, practically enclosing the bottom half of your face, smooshing your cheeks up into your eyes. 

“Chew.”

It takes longer than usual, but you try to obey. His hand hasn’t moved from your mouth.

“Swallow.”

His eyes move from yours to your neck, his thumb grazing your throat lightly, tracing the bite’s trajectory as you force it down. His eyes are back on you then. 

With Simon’s free hand he deftly pierces the last drippy morsel off the plate with the knife, popping it between his scarred lips. The hand still on you moves, migrates to cup your jaw, gradually starting to squeeze. You don’t have any fight left and open before it becomes painful.

Fear paralyzes you again, when he brings the knife towards you.

The movement is slow, as if he’s actually concerned about frightening you. He’s holding it longwise, pointed off to the side.

Then it’s on your tongue.

He drags the flat of the blade’s length across the trembling muscle, leisurely, only moving it away to flip it and clean the other side, myoglobin discarded on your tongue 

“They’ll say ’m ‘spoilin’ ‘er rotten’. Eatin’ off my own plate, sleepin' in my own bed, warm under my roof. Keepin’ you safe indoors. Such a sweet, tame thing, are you’?”. He strokes your cheek, wiping at a drip at the corner of your mouth with a thumb before popping that in his mouth too.

Whenever Simon’s put up enough with your smart mouth, he enjoys the look of your wide wet eyes and your trembling lips stretched around a padded ring gag.

The sounds you make when gagged are special, little nonsense noises, almost like you're trying to talk like a person would. Sweet, pitiful sounds. He also loves when wet, choked sobs that cascade out of your open mouth, forcing you to drool. “You’re so messy, sweet’eart. Nose runnin’, too.” Says you're leaking from practically every hole. Eyes, nose, mouth, cunt.

Sometimes, you might almost be fooled into thinking he feels sorry for you in those moments when you're hyperventilating and hysterical, or wailing so mournfully. He always hushes you when you're crying, pets and hold you, dries your face, as if he’s not the cause of your tears. Despite how much Simon adores the taste of them, adores the soft jingling of the little cow bell tied ‘round your throat when your whole body quivers with sobs, the stress will sour the meat. He’ll say as much, but surprisingly it doesn’t help calm you down.

If it was necessary, he's not opposed to sedation as he's done the research to find one that won't affect your flavor. But most of the time, his solution to your despair is yet another thorough fucking, dopamine to counteract the stress.

Simon forces the orgasms out of your body as easily as he forces his cock into it, you're utterly helpless to stop either. His livelihood is working with his hands and he’s damn good at it. When all's said and done and you're spent, he’ll lightly chastise you for working yourself up, for fussing.

He loves the heft of you in his hands, weighs your heavy tits in his palms, grips your ample belly. Simon can't resist taking mouthfuls of you into his mouth, worrying your supple fat with his incisors. Your tits, ass, thighs, belly, back fat, hell, your double chin. It doesn't matter, any and every roll. You're always afraid he might be getting impatient, that he’ll take a bite out of you, but he never does. Simon says he's just sampling, maybe tenderizing you a bit. 

His favorite taste of yours is still between your legs. He has you thank him for being so careful there. Past you inner thighs and plump mons, the pressure of his teeth yields, feeling barely a graze. 

He likes putting mirrors in front of you, says he wants you to see how lovely you are. Your hands are clipped together, chain snagged in one of the meathooks, just low enough that you don’t strain your shoulders or quite have to stand on your tiptoes.

He directs you to watch, popping the lid off of a permanent marker with a squeak.

He maneuvers you this way and that as he works, dragging the marker down your body. His lines are surprisingly clean considering his canvas is such a pliant, organic shape. Hand are as steady as a surgeon. The marker tickled terribly on skin, the ethanol smell burning your nose, making it hard to think.

It only took a minute to recognize what he was doing. Your skin itches under the felt tip. You flail, trying desperately to smear it, to muss his work, but the ink dries too quickly.

Simon wouldn't let you keep your eyes closed, so in that moment you were grateful for the onslaught of tears blurring your vision somewhat.

That day, he showed you all your different cuts, as if you cared, as if you were together enough to pay attention.

Chuck, rib, loin, sirloin, rump, round, flank, plate, brisket, shank.

He tells you which are his favorite. Tells you which of his mates he’ll have over to enjoy you, ponders what pieces he’ll think they’ll like best. How to cook different cuts to get the best effect, that some cuts are naturally tougher and have to be cooked slowly, while the other cuts are tender and fatty, can be cooked at a higher temperature, quicker. 

From the very beginning, he’s referenced the “Big Day”.

He’ll ask if you're excited over the shinnnnk of a knife against a whetstone. Simon always keeps his tools in order, sharpened expertly, but he thinks he'll polish them up extra shiny for the occasion. To a mirror finish, so you can see yourself. You're so beautiful, it'd be a cryin' shame for you to miss it. 

It’s been months now you’ve been with him, and the day never comes. 

...

You didn't dare question it.

But if you did, Simon would just chuckle, amused that you're so eager. Maybe he'll say that he decided he wants some milk from you instead.

[peggyao3]

Pt. 1 - Breast Worship

A/N: I remembered Kinktober is a thing and I found this prompt list by @absurdthirst and it looked too filthy and good to pass on 🥹 Absolutely no guarantee that I'll be able to squeeze out a blurb every day, but I will as long as it tickles me, hehe 🔥

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, Lactation Kink, Mommy Issues, Dub-Con, Power Play, Sub!Feyd

WORD COUNT: 270

"Gentle now. You're not a dog licking at a treat."

His darling reprimands him but that's exactly what he is, especially when she's like this, her breasts milk-heavy thanks to the cunning solution the Suk keeps feeding into her veins. She's begged him 'no' so many times, but if he's not mistaken, she slowly begins to appreciate the advantages it has to indulge the na-Baron in his sickly yearning for a motherly bosom to snuggle up to.

Stripped down to his loincloth, Feyd kneels between her legs, his hard, muscled flanks nuzzled by the soft, warm flesh of her thighs. Her skirts are rucked up, her chest bare, all plump and smooth, her skin aglow, wet with the saliva he has left there with his pink and sinful, filthy mouth.

She always makes him do this as of late. Cradling his head and telling him to lick and kiss and worship before he gets his treat. And if he's too rough with his sharp, black teeth, he has to start over. Sometimes her foot brushes against the plump head of his straining cock between his thighs, sometimes she purposefully digs her toes into his sac just to hear him moan, just to make his teeth slip and scrape over her aching nipples.

"Again," she will then purr and repeat this treatment until Feyd-Rautha is salivating over her tits and humping the couch like a mutt.

And he will let her, because nothing beats the reward of being finally held to her breasts, cradled and stroked while he drinks, filling up his belly and his loins with tender, fluttering warmth.

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring

If any of you above don't want to be tagged for this kinktober stuff, please let me know ❤️❤️❤️

[madschiavelique]

miguel has this habit - when he is stressed, he starts rutting and humping his clothed dick against you (just friction, no cumming). and since he has to put up with everyone’s shit - that happens a lot throughout the day. it’s like his brain shuts off for a few minutes and he is doing it on autopilot - no thoughts head empty ✌🏻😸 just the warm feeling of his best girl under his touch being there for him, and it’s enough to calm miguel down for a while. you’re quite used to it, and you don’t mind his brainless activity since it’s rather helpful for him and for you - you don’t need to do too much expect to hold your ground - once he thrusted so suddenly and strong it knocked you down 😅 (he felt really guilty after that). silly silly man

one day he was under so much stress that his crotch was basically glued to you. you felt bad for him - to see him so frustrated. but you felt bad for yourself too - his constant humping made your panties dripping wet and you couldn’t actually do anything about it while being at work. so when you two returned home, you finally could punish him for making you horny for all day in a best way possible - fucking him dumb until he can’t coherently respond to you 💅

i am SALIVATING anon dayummm

summary : miguel humps you when he's stressed (not proofread)

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, dry humping, pnv sex - unprotected sex (be safe kids), fem!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 1,4k

tag list : @fandom-ash

It had become a ritual. As soon as the situation became too stressful, as soon as everything in his head became so hectic that his mind sizzled and his skin tingled, he would come to you to hump on you. It was automatic, he needed to get rid of all the stress and unpleasant sensations in one way. This helped him to decompress, to simply concentrate on his desires, on your body and its warmth to get away from work pressure.

You'd always find a way to get alone and he'd hump you, desperately, rubbing against you and letting the frictional sensations electrify and stabilise everything around him that was preventing him from keeping his mind straight.

He could hump your thigh, against your fingers as you encouraged him and kissed the side of his neck, and sometimes against your clothed cunt. It wasn't always easy, letting him do that for a few moments and then having to go back to work when he was calm again and you were left turned on.

And today, it was a particularly painful sensation as your desire grew. Miguel was taking you aside easily every hour, humping against your ass, almost fucking your hands, rubbing desperately against your cunt.

Your body was becoming more sensitive by the hour, and every time Miguel came to you with that apologetic look on his face, you knew you were going to be tempted and doubly aroused.

He'd come back to hump your covered pussy, and the longer the hours went on, the more painful your arousal became. Your clit was throbbing, your body all hot, and that cloud spreading and tightening in your lower belly kept intensifying as soon as you had those little private moments.

You knew that, if he continued for even a few minutes longer in those moments, you wouldn't be able to stand it any longer and might come.

You wanted so desperately to just take off your bottoms and panties while he stripped off his clothes so that you could feel him inside you, all warm and tight.

But he always left before either of you could taste the completion of your two shared pleasures. He would go away, and you would follow him to continue his work. You sat next to him and tried to rub your thighs to feel a little friction, something that would hopefully satisfy you even a little without being able to literally go do something about it yourself.

Miguel wouldn't let you move away from him, wanting to make sure that if the urge arose again you'd be by his side. Today he was afraid that if you weren't there just in case, he wouldn't be able to control himself, and he hated that: the lack of control.

So you suffered in silence, and he did the same. It was almost unbearable, like shaking a champagne bottle from time to time, the bubbles building up and ready to implode, but never being opened.

The power with which you led him into his quarters once the work was done was exceptional. You made sure the quarters were locked, and led him to your bed.

You kissed him with such appetite that he took a step backwards, soon coming back to feed on your lips. You pushed him down onto the mattress, straddling him as you humped him this time, almost aggressively.

The friction that your cunt and his cock were looking for had become necessary, sending little sparks of desire into both your bellies that would ignite a hungry fire.

You began to take off your costume, Miguel helping you with the task as his was depixelating. Your underwear was completely wet, proof of the excitement that had lasted you a whole day.

"Already so wet for me," he breathed between two pecks, humming as he came to kiss you harder.

Both your sexes were now finally naked, and a moan escaped from between your lips as you placed your cunt on him. His warmth against yours was a sensation you had been seeking all day.

You let yourself slide from the base of his dick to his tip, wanting to smear a little of your desire on his skin.

He let out grunts of desire, gripping your hips to make you move faster against him. You clit rubbed like that made you feel like your entire body was connected to one single place, and you finally understood the anticipation that Miguel could have on stressful days.

You understood all those sensations, those desires to have more without ever being able to satisfy yourself or let yourself have a climax for good, but now you were going to satisfy them.

"I'm going to take care of you now," you whispered as you held his dick underneath you, lining it to your entrance.

Without waiting for any response from him, you impaled yourself on him, both your mouths overflowing with moans.

At last you felt your walls closing in on him and not on empty space. You were so wet from all this previous unvoluntary teasing that you almost slid around him effortlessly, sinking down until your clit was in contact with the skin of his lower belly.

A drunken little smile graced your lips as you began to undulate your hips, the friction and sensations you'd so long sought finally present. Your pelvis was acting on its own, rolling back and forth like waves crashing on the sand as you watched Miguel's eyes close of pleasure.

He was guiding your thighs, grunts finally coming out loud and clear of his throat. He'd spent his whole day just grinding, and the setting prevented him from being even a little too vocal.

"Gosh you feel so good," he breathed in absolute adoration.

You kissed his lips and the crook of his neck, panting softly before nibbling and tracing his sensitive spots with your tongue. The poor guy deserved all this after the day he'd had.

And all the frustration he'd built up pushed him over the edge. Miguel didn't take long to come, the sudden sensation of your warm walls enveloping him at last driving him to climax.

His hips were jerking, single powerful thrust pushing into your cunt as he came while you were consciously clenching your walls to make him enjoy it even more.

You lowered yourself and kissed him, his cock still twitching deep inside you, and you continued to undulate your pelvis against his. You deserved to keep going, he'd made a wet humping mess of you in turn, and you earned your satisfaction.

"I'm not done with you," you breathed, carrying on riding him.

You arched your back as you moved forward, and rounded your pelvis as you moved back, his dick filling you in all the right places as he made you breath out soft moans.

He looked at you almost bestially, his eyes tinged a carmine colour.

You were a goddess, a true miracle before his eyes, your gaze planted in his as he watched you, running his tongue over his fangs.

He straightened up, coming to sit as you continued to undulate your pelvis. He put his hand on your hips to guide you against him, kissing your breasts lovingly, your chest, his hair completely dishevelled.

All day you'd had this storm brewing in your stomach, with the winds blowing stronger and thunder rumbling in the distance angry of this impossibility for pleasure.

He brought his hand down between your two bodies, gently touching your clit and starting to make circular movements around it while he kissed your shoulder.

"You're so good for me, nena." he sighed against your hot skin.

The moans that came from within you were full of desire, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your flesh making you see stars as you finally reached the point of orgasm.

The storm crashed into full force, your whole body vibrating as a powerful moan rocked your lips, Miguel grunting as your walls closed around him with intensity.

He watched you, cheek resting on your chest as you came down from all the sensations, his eyes riveted on your drunken expression of pleasure.

But you needed more, your hips starting to move again soon after, an almost pleading sigh escaping Miguel's lips as he nestled his head in your shoulder. It was going to be a long night, much to your delight.

[eddiethehunted]

i want you to touch it softly (ao3)

believe it or not, this one isn't a wip, it's COMPLETE! rated: m (to be safe, tbh could probably be rated t) | cw: drug use, horny discussion, eddie has a thing for his hair getting pulled (implied) | wc: 1.6k | robin/vickie mentioned, platonic stobin, mutual pining, steve being into hair care and skincare, idiot4idiot, the usual <3 title from ariana grande 'my hair'

—————

Steve’s curled into a corner of the couch, watching the movie with glazed eyes, his knees drawn up to his chest. Robin’s feeling a little buzzed herself, laying on her side on the other end of the couch, with Eddie sat cross legged on the floor in front of her, scribbling away in a notebook.

Without really thinking much about it, she reaches forward and starts playing with Eddie’s hair. He startles at first, glancing over his shoulder, but she just smiles at him and twirls a curl around her finger and he relaxes, so she doesn’t stop.

“Okay, I have to know,” she says, because really, Eddie’s curls are beautiful, just really dry and frizzy and she’s stoned and nosy and curious. “Is this a perm? Or is it natural?”

Eddie looks offended, shooting her a reproachful look over his shoulder and saying, “It’s natural.”

She nods, twirling a piece around her finger again. She can see Steve on the other end of the couch looking over sulkily. Jealous. She thinks it’s adorable, the way Steve quickly looks away when she glances over at him.

“It’s so crunchy,” Robin says, “how much hairspray do you have in here?”

Another affronted look. “None! I just washed my hair before I came here.”

It’s still a bit damp around the roots, so she knows he’s not lying. She gets her fingers really in it, pulls his head back a little bit, and he makes this weird sound in the back of his throat. It’s something between pleased and irritated, like when you pet a cat that can’t decide if it wants to purr or claw at your hand.

Steve huffs and pretends he’s still watching the movie, but Robin bets he’s jealous as hell right now. He has expressed to Robin several times how badly he wants to be allowed to play with Eddie’s hair but he can’t because that’s weird and guy friends don’t do that and he doesn’t want to make Eddie uncomfortable.

As if Eddie doesn’t melt into a puddle of horny lovesick goo the second Steve so much as brushes against him.

It’s not really her place to tell him how many times Eddie has complained to her about his own pathetic crush, though, so she never does. Just lets them both lament and pine and complain to her about how badly they want each other, and how sad and tragic and woeful their lives are that it’ll never be requited love. Pats Eddie’s shoulder when he covers his face and whisper screams into his hands when Steve walks by wearing those stupid jock shorts and lets Steve lay his head in her lap and whine about Eddie’s arms and his hands and his mouth and—kinda just everything.

(It’s only fair, though. They’ve both heard enough of her salivating over the short skirts Vickie always wears on their dates. And that one low cut shirt she wears that shows off her cute tits. The least she can do is listen, even if it kinda makes her want to bash her head into the wall sometimes.)

Steve likes hair, she knows. Skincare too. He likes products and he understands skin types and hair textures pretty well, considering she’s sure he’s never learnt anything cosmetic-related, at least not formally. He put her on some new shampoo a few months ago and her hair’s never been so soft and healthy and wavy before.

Eddie’s hair is dry. It’s kinda fried, even. It’s brittle and tangled and not really rough to the touch, but definitely not as soft as it could be, and she knows it drives Steve insane. Like, Steve likes Eddie’s hair like it is—she’s sat through way too many sexually frustrated rants about how badly he wants to mess it up—but he knows how to help it, and he wants to, because it’s like, his love language or something.

“Damn. Your hair is dry.” Robin glances sidelong at Steve again, trying to project her thoughts into his mind. “You should use a hair mask or something.”

“Some of us are poor,” Eddie says indignantly, jerking his head away. He scoots closer to Steve’s side of the couch, out of her reach, and glowers at her as he pulls his notes to the other side of the coffee table. “My hair’s fine, thank you very fucking much.”

“I’m poor too, dumbass,” Robin points out. “I just steal Steve’s stuff.”

Steve snorts, letting his head loll back against the back of the couch, his eyelids heavy. He’s been quiet all night—he gets that way sometime when he’s high, just stops talking and sits there, quietly listening to whatever’s going on around him—but he speaks up for the first time in over an hour to mumble, “Not stealing if I’m givin’ it to you.”

“Whatever,” Robin says, waving a hand. “Touch Eddie‘s hair, dude. It’s crispy.”

Eddie shoots a desperate, betrayed look at her, then says to Steve, “I will bite your hand off, Steve.”

“Mhm, bet you will,” Steve says, ignoring the warning, because Eddie is all cozy in his plaid PJ pants and Steve’s old hoodie and therefore about as threatening as a small gerbil, “lemme see.”

He reaches out to touch with only the faintest flush on his cheeks. It could easily be blamed on his high, but Robin knows him as well as she knows the back of her own hand. Steve is absolutely losing his shit right now. He’s just really good at hiding it.

“Dry,” he confirms. His hand lingers in Eddie’s hair and Robin notices that Eddie doesn’t bristle nearly as much when Steve’s the one with his hand all wrapped up in it.

Rude. But understandable.

“What the hell,” Eddie complains, but he sounds decidedly less irritated and a whole lot more flustered now. He’s nowhere near as good at hiding it as Steve.

Robin hides a smile when she notices how he’s not doodling in the margins of his paper anymore, but instead twisting a ring around his finger and staring hard at the wall.

Okay, she's more than aware of the fact that she started this, but she’s starting to think that maybe she should, like, go. Give them some privacy or whatever. Save herself of having to experience this.

“Th’s’not a bad thing,” Steve murmurs in his soupy, slow, stoned voice. Robin might not be into guys at all—especially not Steve, he’s like, Steve—but she’s not an idiot, she can tell in a purely observational way how the gravely sound of it could be sexy. She’s not completely oblivious.

Neither is Eddie, apparently, because there’s a strange glazed look in his eyes that Robin is sure has nothing to do with the weed in his system. His adam’s apple bobs as Steve runs his fingers through his hair, tugging a bit near the roots to pull Eddie’s head closer.

Eddie goes willingly. Quietly. Steve looks delighted, a big stupid smile on his face.

She is seriously such a genius. Steve owes her, seriously.

“Not a bad thing,” Eddie echoes.

“No, s’nice like this anyway.” Steve gathers it all into one hand, like a ponytail, before letting it fall slowly, playing with it like that over and over as goosebumps break out over Eddie’s neck.

“How do I—” Eddie sounds like he’s choking, the back of his ears and neck bright red. “Uh—make it better?”

“A hair mask might help,” Steve says, rolling onto his side so he can get both hands in Eddie’s hair. He’s too out of it to notice the violent shudder that tears through Eddie’s body. “You should do a porosity test.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says blankly. Robin nearly cackles. Eddie has no fucking clue what’s going on. He checked out the second Steve got his hands in his hair.

“That’s the one where you see if your hair floats?” she prompts, when it’s clear Eddie isn’t going to say anything else, too dumbfounded to process anything that Steve’s saying to him.

“Mmmhm.” Steve gives a little smile, pleased that she remembers, and of course she does.

Eddie’s eyes shut and he presses his lips into a firm line at the sound of Steve’s agreement, like he’s fighting some kind of demons inside. Steve’s still got his hands buried in Eddie’s hair, eyes glassy as he watches the frizzy strands run through his fingers.

“Maybe high porosity. Feels rough.” He tugs a little, maybe on accident, or maybe he’s too stoned to think better of it. “Wanna try a hair mask?”

“Uh,” Eddie says.

Robin kicks him, not at all subtly, and he coughs, straightening up a little bit.

“Uh, yeah,” he chokes out. “Um… if you think it’ll help, I guess. Why not.”

God, Eddie owes her too. She’s such a good friend.

Steve’s hands fall from Eddie’s hair as he pushes himself up to a sitting position, somewhat clumsily. He catches Robin’s eye, biting his lip in an excited smile, and she grins back, giving him a thumbs up.

“If the pizza shows up there’s cash in my wallet,” Steve tells her, getting to his feet and offering his hand to an absolutely flustered-looking Eddie. “C’mon, gonna show you how to take care of those pretty curls.”

Eddie’s mouth falls open, gaping like a fish out of water. Robin can’t help but snicker, grinning wider when he shoots her a bewildered, panicked look over his shoulder as Steve tugs him towards the stairs.

She curls into her corner of the couch, pulling the blanket closer to her chin and putting her focus back onto the movie as she waits for the doorbell to ring. Grease is always a classic, and, well, whatever happens between her two favourite idiots next is really none of her business.

She does turns up the volume, though. Just in case.

[another-lost-mc]

Solomon isn't just immortal. He's a vampire and we find out by accident. The moment MC sees the fangs and it's like the monster fucker light switch flips on. Wanting to see if it's true we feel pleasure as he feeds and feeling him take us til hes empty and full.

If you knows what I mean 😏😉

➤ temptations | solomon x afab!reader

solomon knows all the secrets you try to keep from him. it's only a matter of time before you learn his secret too.

content: nsfw (18+). afab!Reader (gn!pronouns). vampire au. canon-typical vampire behaviour including biting/blood drinking and possessiveness/jealousy, past killing/murder, minor angst, pining, pet names, teasing, thigh riding, overstimulation. 2.5k+ words.

Vampire!Solomon who hides his true identity from you because you’re overwhelmed adjusting to life in the Devildom. He wants to be your human exchange student friend, someone you can trust and turn to. He swears to the others that he’s no danger to you, and they agree to keep his secret in return.

Vampire!Solomon who offers to cook for you sometimes, and you’re absolutely stunned by how terrible his food is. (It’s too bitter, or too salty, and the meat he serves you is so raw it's inedible.) You accept the food with a grimace because he’s so enthusiastic and sweet when you visit him and the angels at Purgatory Hall. You notice quickly that he doesn’t eat when you do—he sits across the table from you with a soft smile and tells you that he already ate or, "Don’t worry, darling, I’ll eat later."

(You don’t remember when he first started calling you “darling” but you realize that you like it, and he knows you do, too.)

Vampire!Solomon who notices the collection of vampire-themed books and movies in your room. He pretends to be curious about what you’re reading, even though he knows the book in your hand is an explicit romance novel about a human and vampire having a steamy love affair. You squirm in your seat and tell him it’s just a silly vampire book, and he doesn’t bring it up again when you awkwardly change the topic.

Later in the privacy of his dorm, he wonders what it is about vampires specifically that you find so appealing. Is it the danger of being approached in the darkness by a handsome stranger? Do you want to be claimed by someone who will protect and worship you in exchange for your blood? There’s so many different versions of vampires in human pop culture, it’s impossible to guess without more subtle investigation.

(He tries not to think too hard about why he cares so much.)

Vampire!Solomon who doesn’t realize that his feelings for you have grown into something beyond friendship until its too late. He follows a delectable scent to the RAD library where he finds you studying by yourself. He tries to convince himself it’s just a new fragrance you’re wearing, or perhaps Asmo has given you some bath products to try.

(He’s been so sensitive to smells lately, and it’s only now that he realizes it’s because of you.)

Vampire!Solomon whose nose nearly brushes against your neck when he approaches you silently from behind. His eyes flutter shut in wanton bliss at the mere scent of your blood, thick like honey and just as sweet, pumping through your veins. He salivates at the thought of sinking his fangs into your skin, and he swallows thickly around the lump in his throat. His fists clench at his sides as he resists the urge to touch you and he steps back quickly, just in time for you to turn around and finally notice his presence. He stumbles through an awkward greeting before he makes his excuses and flees to the safety of his dorm, far away from you.

(He feels betrayed by his own desires. He swore to himself that he would be your friend—but that’s not enough. Not anymore.)  

Vampire!Solomon who tries to ignore his feelings for you, stomping them deep down into the black chasm where his soul used to be. It’s a futile effort—he’s enraptured and tormented by you, the one person in the three realms he shouldn't want but he craves so much. He tries to find relief for his bloodlust in the human world, but there’s none to be found.

When he arrives in the human world to try to satiate his thirst, he tells himself he’s just hungry. Maybe a proper meal instead of bagged blood will alleviate the bitter hunger swirling inside him.

Before he met you, he liked to play with his food. It used to be such a rush, fucking them or choking them on his cock before feeding from them. He doesn’t seduce his prey tonight, even though they try to entice him—the human’s sultry smile and wandering hands across his chest do nothing but make him shudder in revulsion.

The clouds part and moonlight peeks through. He realizes the human he chose looks like a poor imitation of you, and he didn’t even realize it. He’s tempted to bite them anyway, to rip out their throat and bleed them dry in his frustration—but you wouldn’t approve if you ever found out, would you? 

(He stopped killing for fun a long time ago, and he refuses to let this break him.)

He mutters a spell to jumble the human’s memory and lets them wander away from the alley unharmed. He returns to the Devildom hungry and frustrated, and he's determined to fix this problem once and for all.

Purgatory Hall is dark and quiet when you let yourself inside. Solomon called you earlier and claimed he didn’t have anything in particular he wanted to talk about, but he sounded strange. His voice was rough and bitter, so unlike the friendly sorcerer you’ve grown fond of.

“Sol, are you okay? You sound upset about something.”

“Oh, darling,” he sighs heavily into the receiver, “you have no idea.”

“I can come over if you want company, unless you’d rather be alone.”

“You’re so sweet, aren’t you? Very well—the others are out at the moment and I'd rather speak to you privately. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

There’s a flicker of candlelight coming from underneath his bedroom door, and you knock softly before entering. There’s only a single candle lit on the mantle and most of the room is shrouded in darkness. You can’t even see Solomon at first, but you hear a noise near his desk and realize he's watching you from his wingback chair. He crooks his finger for you to come closer when you hesitate just inside the doorway.

He grabs something off his lap and tosses it on the desk haphazardly. The book slides across the smooth surface towards you, and your cheeks flush when you recognize the cover of one of the erotic vampire novels you’ve read.

“It wasn’t as bad as I expected,” he admits, tone far too casual to be sincere, “but like most books, this one isn’t very accurate when it comes to vampire lore.”

You laugh nervously to try and cover your bashfulness. “I suppose you know more about vampires than most humans do?” 

He rises from his chair and walks around the desk so that he's in front of you. He leans back against it as he picks up something that reflects the moonlight—a wine glass, one you didn’t notice before in the dark room.

“You could say that,” he murmurs as he swirls the liquid in the glass before lifting it to his lips.

It would be easier to pretend the red liquid he drinks is wine, if it weren’t for its viscous texture and the metallic scent filling the air. You stare at him as he licks away a smear of blood from his lip; his eyes glow unnaturally bright in the dark room as he stares back.

“You’re…you’re a—“ you're stunned into silence, barely able to utter the word as you try to process what's happening.

He sighs and sets the nearly empty glass on the desk. “A vampire, yes.” He scrutinizes your expression. “You don’t seem afraid, darling—but maybe you should be.” 

It suddenly makes sense now, how the others always warned you to stay away from him. He treated you so kindly, you didn’t believe he was dangerous. Somewhere along the way, your feelings for him changed into something more. You’ve thought about what it might be like to go on a proper date with him, to kiss him and invite him to your bed and feel him move inside you.

You should be terrified, but you’re not.

You think about his sweet gestures and gentle touches, and the way he says your name with so much fondness. You don’t want to doubt him, but you have to be certain you’re not mistaken about his intentions for you. “You're not going to hurt me.” It's not a question because you already know the answer.

"No, I would never hurt you. Quite the opposite, really." His gaze softens, but he still seems uncertain about something. "I’m not sure you can truly understand what it's like to be with someone like me."

You walk towards him before you lose your nerve, and you place a shaking hand on his chest, over the empty place where his heart should be. “Then help me understand, please? Because I like you, as more than just a friend—and learning about this hasn’t changed that.”

He says nothing while his eyes search your expression, and it feels like he’s picking apart your soul until he unburies the truth behind your words. He must be satisfied by what he sees in your eyes because he takes your hands in his and leads you around the desk to his chair. He sits down and tugs you down onto his lap.

You straddle his thighs nervously, trying hard not to put too much weight on his lap while you grasp his shoulders for balance.

“There must be a lot of things you’re curious about,” he says softly as he strokes the side of your face. He brushes your warm cheek with his thumb. “Let’s start with the basics, shall we? At least your book got something right.” He opens his mouth wide enough for you to see the fangs he normally conceals from view. 

You lean closer to inspect them in the dim lighting of his room. They don’t look that sharp and you reach out curiously to touch one. The tip of a fang pricks your finger and you pull back with a hiss. He grabs your hand before you can wipe away the little bloom of crimson where his fang cut you.

“There’s something else you should know before we go any further, darling.” His tongue laps at the droplet of blood pooling on your fingertip, and his chest rumbles with a purr at your taste.

“I don’t like to share.” He watches another drop of blood slowly ooze from the cut. He pops your finger into his mouth with a quiet hum, twirling his tongue and sucking gently before pulling your hand away again. “I won't share your blood.”

His hand on your cheek slides down your neck and pauses over your pulse before smoothing over your cotton shirt. His hand stops on your breast where he feels your heartbeat thrum rapidly beneath his palm. “And I won’t share this.”

His hand glides over the curve of your belly before he dips into the space between your legs. “Or this,” he breathes, spreading his fingers as he rubs you through your pants. He exhales sharply through his nose, surprised at how damp you are already. He teases you a little more with his fingers, mesmerized by the heat of your arousal against his cool fingers. The scent of your slick permeates the air when he pulls his hand away.

“You’ll be mine alone, and no one else’s.” He holds you in place as his fingers clench possessively into the soft swell of your hips. "Can you accept that?"

You don’t know the words to express how overwhelmed and captivated you are by him. He might be a monster, but you’ve never wanted someone more in your entire life. You lean forward and kiss him, and you hope he understands all the feelings you can’t say. 

He groans into the kiss as he tilts his head to slot your lips together. His kiss is hard and demanding and passionate. His tongue flicks at the seam of your lips and you open your mouth to him. You taste blood when his tongue curls with yours, but for some reason it makes you want him even more. You break the kiss with a gasp when you start to feel lightheaded.

He wraps an arm around your back and pulls you to his chest in a tight embrace. “Did you know that I could smell how wet you were when you read those naughty books of yours?” he whispers against your ear.

His lips graze along your jaw as he starts leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. “Did you ever fantasize that I was one of the monsters from your stories?" A gentle flick of his tongue against your pulse point. "Did it make you come, thinking about me biting you as I fucked you?”

He huffs in amusement against your throat when you squirm in his lap. "Oh, you did, didn't you?" He licks up your neck and tugs on your earlobe with his teeth. "Don't worry, darling—I thought about it too."

“Solomon, please,” you whine in his ear as you wind your fingers through his hair and to try pull him closer. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he asks as he nips lightly at your neck. “Fucking you senseless, tasting your pretty little cunt, feeding from you after. I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

You whimper when his hand grasps the back of your neck and tilts your head to allow him better access. “Will it hurt?”

His eyes flick up and meet your hesitant gaze; you look so lovely with lust-darkened eyes, brightened with a hint of fear. “Oh, you’re going to love this,” he murmurs darkly, voice thick and full of promise, just before he bites you.

You cry out in surprise when the sharp pinch of his fangs break your skin. The slight pain dissipates and leaves behind a warming sensation that builds where his greedy lips drink from you. Waves of molten pleasure spread down your neck and courses through your veins, and you moan loudly and unashamed as desire pools in your belly.

Your thighs are warm and sticky from the slick soaking your underwear and your clit throbs with need. You grind down against his thigh in search of friction, and he moans appreciatively as he continues to slurp noisily at your neck.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you chase your pleasure, riding up and down his thigh as slick seeps through your pants and eases the glide. The wet fabric of your underwear pulls taut against your folds and adds a hint of friction to your clit every time you rub yourself against him. 

He grunts and pushes your hips down, encouraging you to move even faster as he rocks against you. He relaxes his jaw and pulls his fangs from your neck, but the sensation of his tongue licking over the small bite marks is enough to send you over the edge. You hide your face against his shoulder when you cry out his name when you come, another surge of slick coating your folds and seeping through your clothes onto his.

He grabs at your ass and encourages you to keep moving against him, riding out your orgasm and wringing every drop of pleasure from your body. You fall limp against his chest and tremble from sensitivity, exhausted but so satisfied.

“You did so well for me. You’re perfect, darling.”  He rubs your back and waits for you to catch your breath before he tilts your head up for a kiss. It's softer and sweeter than the kisses before, but it still stains your lips crimson.

You groan uncomfortably when you shift in his lap, and you realize just how wet and sticky your underwear and pants are now. There are dark streaks of your slick on his thigh and the pant leg underneath your dribbling cunt is soaked.

He looks delighted when he glances down and admires the mess you made of him. “You smell so delicious, I might never wash these again,” he teases, “but for now, perhaps we should move this to the bedroom? There’s so much more I want to show you, and I’m still hungry.”

read more: the vampire event masterlist | obey me masterlist

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

sugar cookies - bakugou katsuki

—/—

There is nothing gentle about him.

Not the way he’s holding the bowl, and certainly not the way he’s just thrown the dough onto your countertop.

He’s standing in the middle of your kitchen. Standing in the middle of your house. Surrounded by dough and cookie cutters and flour and somehow his mouth is still set into this funny little grim line. Like there’s a battle plan in Katsuki’s head and he’s suddenly hit a snag.

“Stop starin’.”

“I’m not.”

He just looks at you, unimpressed and you’re so so fond of that square of tile where he stands. Your cheeks warm. You’ve found that there is nothing so undoing as being laid bare under his finger.

“Yeah, you are.” He starts again. But that funny little grim line has gone wobbly. Has gone soft at the edges. “Always starin’. Eyes’ll dry out and roll outta your head.”

“Would you still love me if I had no eyes?”

He doesn’t deign that comment with a response. Just rolls those pretty red eyes and sets the bowl down on the counter. Then he’s beckoning you closer, his hand catching the small of your back as you near. He follows you to the sink. He turns the water on. He pushes up your sleeves when you forget to.

Always so helpless, he mutters, but Katsuki isn’t looking at you. He’s focused on folding up your sleeves neatly, warm hands catching around your elbow.

“Not helpless - just, uh, forgetful?”

“Forgetful. Yeah, definitely.” The words bite, but the kiss he leaves on your cheek doesn’t.

He’s your favorite like this - warm and soft and gooey from the outside in. Baking makes him this way. House chores make him this way. Sometimes grocery shopping will make him this way.

You think it has something to do with the domesticity. But you’d never tell him that.

Now, Katsuki turns the sink off for you, quickly trapping your hands between a towel. Broad fingers sweep over your smaller ones, wiping away moisture with the cloth.

“What’s the next part?” You ask softly. “You gonna roll out the dough for me too?”

He glares. Ruffles the towel over your hands. “I don’t know, you plannin’ to fuck up my expertly prepared dough?”

“I would never.”

And your smile, your sincerity, must be too much for him then, because he jolts. Leaves the towel hanging across your hands and gently pushes your face to the left. Till your not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Say another word and I’ll make the cookies spicy.” He threatens. “‘m serious about it this time.”

And he does look serious - to his credit. But then he’s splitting the dough, dropping one half in the bowl and another on the counter. He takes the roller in his hands and then, even he abandons the threat in his gaze. He just looks too cute with his little roller in his little apron. Way too cute to be scary and mean.

“If you give me shit for askin’ this I’ll go right back to bein’ mean,” He starts, funny little smile stretched across his face. “But if ya had to choose…..”

He stops then. Looks sheepish. And you can just feel the sweetness of his next remark in the air. You salivate for it, sugar craving screaming in your veins full force.

“If I had to choose what, Katsuki?”

He looks away. “If you had to choose which color frosting - what would ya pick?”

“Oh? You’re letting me pick, Mr. Expert Baker?”

“Hey! I just fuckin’ said if you gave me shit for it I’d-“

“Orange.” You say, cupping his cheek with flour-covered fingertips. “My favorite.”

And he smiles something wicked then. Drops the dough and the roller and takes your waist in two large hands. His mouth is on yours and there’s not another thought given to the dough. It lies abandoned while he takes his time. Kisses you like he’s determined to win and there’s no other battle worth fighting.

Maybe you were the snag in his earlier battle plan. The reason for that grim little determined line. Either way, you’re not complaining. You love his way of fighting.

He pulls away.

Out of breath and red in the face and brilliant. He’s got flour on his cheek. Flour in the imprint of your fingers and you love him so much your teeth rattle with it.

[itiswormtimebaby]

Just the tip

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Bug (+ Brother’s best friend Bucky, plus sized fem reader) CW: Smut, just the tip but not for lack of trying on Bug’s part, no condom (be smarter than them), pussy job, dirty talk, pet names, light choking, spitting, light spanking, not proofread AN: Gaps in the timeline of Bucky and Bug’s relationship will eventually be filled in, but posts on The Worm Hole are in chronological order. This comes sometime after Fifth Date and Bucky “loving” your thighs. 

Calloused fingers skim up the curve of your belly, pausing to roughly paw and squeeze at your heaving breasts, pushing them together as Bucky salivates over them. His spit is warm and sticky, gathering on your peaked nipples; a translucent trail connects them, illustrating the path that his mouth continues to travel. Back and forth, over and over. If he could he’d have both in his mouth at once, as it were he settles for suckling at one while the other is rewarded with pinches and twists. A nip of his teeth has your lower half jutting off the bed, bumping your bare cunt into the thin material of his tight boxer briefs, your slick mixing with his precum to further dampen the dark material.

His name is but a desperate plea on your lips as you begin slowly grinding against him, movement measured as if frightened you’ll move too quick and scare him away. As close as you’ve gotten Bucky still hasn’t fucked you the way you want, hasn’t carved out and claimed that spot deep inside that’s been saved just for him, for the kiss of his cock. Maybe, you think, maybe it could be today. 

Your thighs quiver from their spread wide position, feet hooked just under his ass, and it’s this leverage you use to pull him further onto you, not stopping until his body weight has dropped completely between your legs and his cock is resting between the lips of your pussy. He’s panting your name hotly into your neck, groaning when you reach between your bodies to start tugging on the last article of clothing separating you, your hips continuously rocking into his as you do. And, despite huffing out something that sounds suspiciously like “Patience, Bug,” he helps get them off. 

You waste no time in fisting the angry red tip of his exposed cock, spreading pearly droplets of precum down as much of the shaft as you can reach. Fuck he’s thick. He begins humping your fist, driving himself in and out before he answers your plea for more, grabbing the offending hand and pinning it to the bed as he begins to slide himself between the lips of your cunt. It’s a familiar position, one you’ve both come to crave since that first night he fucked your thighs, came messy between your drenched lips. But it’s not enough. Sweaty strands of hair fall over Bucky’s forehead, dog tags dangling from his neck and into your face as he picks up speed. Back and forth they sway with the rhythm of his cock, them or it hypnotizing you, distracting you, driving you closer towards- “Bucky, more, I need more!” 

The pupils of his eyes are blown wide, the grin on his lips salacious, “Y-yeah?” He rasps out, “My greedy girl needs more?” His hand finds your neck, four fingers on one side, thumb on the other, squeezing lightly. “That enough?” You manage to shake your head, panting, pleading, “N-no. Cock, I need your cock, please, m‘so empty- so-” 

He let’s out a low, growly fuck as he releases your neck, dropping the hand between your bodies instead, impaling you swifty on three fingers. The burn is delicious, as is the steady bump of the spongy head of him against your clit but it’s not what you want, what you need. “Th-there you go, Doll,” he conjoles, “so fucking tight.” 

Despite the heady rush of pleasure taking over your senses you  manage again to shake your head, protest. “Cock, ple-e-ease!” Bucky’s eyes pinch shut as if in pain, forehead dropping to your shoulder; “Bug, Baby” he says, barely above a whisper “You can’t do this to me.” 

He can feel you pulsating around his fingers, drenching his hand in slick, he’s never felt you this hot or wet. Without conscious effort he begins to slowly scissor his fingers, preparing you for a larger intrusion, his actions spurred on by your writhing and moaning. It’s a particularly loud call of his name that snaps some sense back into his desire-addled brain, meeting your lips in a filthy open-mouthed kiss, licking into you before pulling back with a soft “Bug.”

Through the fog of your own lust you know what that means, he’s not going to do it, not going to fuck you, why won’t he just fuck you? You’re not too dignified to beg, voicing your protests with whimpers and moans, appealing to him with the sweet sound of his own name falling off your lips followed by please. Finally, when nothing else seems to be working you twist your fingers around his still dangling dog tags, tugging until he’s forced to meet your gaze; “Ju-ust the tip. Please, Bucky, please just give me that.” 

He blanches, knows it's not a good idea, but you’re so fucking wet, and hot, and he can feel you pulsing around his fingers. His will caves under his affection for you, using his slick covered fingers to pinch your chin between them, tilting your head further back so he can suck a deep bruise into your neck before- “Just the tip? Fuck, baby, okay. Just the tip.” 

He maneuvers you onto all fours, kneeling between your open legs, grasping and spreading your ass cheeks to get a better look at your weeping hole. He resists the urge to lean down and suck the slick directly from you, but just barely, as he warns “Just the tip.” You jerk your head in the semblance of a nod, every nerve feeling like a live wire as you practically vibrate in anticipation. His vibranium hand stays on your ass, keeping you spread as he spits onto your opening, right hand guiding the blunt tip of his cock to where you’re desperate to welcome him in. Your eyes roll back into your head when he finally presses in, ring of muscles stretched wide and burning at the intrusion. 

It takes everything in him to not finish pressing in, to just take told of your hips and yank you back onto his aching cock, to impale you and fuck you until you can’t walk for a week. But he manages. Barely. Instead he drops his left hand to your clit, rubbing tight circles, appreciating the way you squeeze down on the tip of him. 

Despite your promise  you can’t help but sink your hips back, a desperate bid to take him further in, but Bucky is quicker than you, jerking away from you and wrenching the tip of his cock free from your fluttering opening. The slap of his palm against your ass is harsh, three quick reprimanding blows before he’s using that same hand to push you flat to the bed, trapping your hands underneath you, belly down. “Bad girl, you take what I give.”

You wiggle your hips pathetically, trying to entice him back in with a shake of your ass; “Buck, please- I’ll be good, I’ll-” He can tell how fucked out you are by the lilt of your voice, but then again he isn’t much better off. He keeps your hips pressed into the mattress with a heavy hand on your lower back, pressing just the tip back in, working it in and out in slow, steady thrusts.

He stops only when you’ve clenched down on him so tight it’s hard to move, pausing with just the tip of his cock in you; he allows you just enough space to work one hand down between your legs; “Rub your clit, baby, make yourself cum. Cum on my cock.” 

You can’t help but whine, you’re not cumming on his cock, not really, not in the way you want, but you can’t deny that it feels good, so fucking good. You allow your fingers to dance across the spot where you’re joined, where he has you stretched open, before zeroing in your clit. The orgasm breaks your body into pieces, pleasure fueled oblivion consuming you. Bucky is close behind, dropping the full weight of his body onto your back, laying over you, pinning you down. “Where-” he manages to grunt out “Where do you want it?” 

“Inside, Bucky, please!” 

He whimpers out something that sounds like a mix between your name, jesus christ, and fucking hell, before he let’s go. He may not be all the way in, but that doesn’t stop him from painting your insides white with his cum.

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 14

Moniker: Calisto Risk Level: Low. Calisto is a part-time resident who is detained as needed. She is currently not detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Daddy kink Safeword: Refer to first brief.

Let Calisto look after you as she needs, I will be watching habibi - Farah

“No mon amour, you let daddy take care of that hm?”

Calisto’s strong shoulders muscled between you legs. You weren’t sure that her being on the floor between your thighs as you sat on the sofa was the best way for her to blow on the steaming cup of tea you were holding, but it certainly made your cunt pulse pathetically for her.

It was some cruel and unusual punishment being with Calisto today. She was gorgeous for a start but that wasn’t the bit that was making you want to bite your own hands off. No, it was that for the last hour she had looked after you perfectly and made everyday things unbearably erotic without actually touching you where you needed her.

Taking your hoodie off when it got too warm? Her strong hands had slowly ran up your sides as she took it off for you. You wanted to get comfy on the sofa? Her corded forearms popped as she had fluffed up the pillows while you were sitting there, brushing against your ass and then patting it to get you to move where she wanted. Hungry? You got hand fed little bites of food. Crumbs on your mouth? She dragged her tongue against them to clean you up. Tea too hot? Well now here she was, right between your legs kneeling up so she could blow on it for you.

And as with every other time you knew the polite response she wanted.

“Thank you daddy.”

Again, like every other time those words left your mouth, your pussy flooded with arousal and your nipples peaked almost painfully. You weren’t sure it was a daddy kink as such, more a calling this woman specifically daddy kink. Christ when you walked into the Kennel you thought you were straight, or at least you had never really thought about it. But now with her in a greyish white tank top (wifebeater style, the kind of top you imagined on some vicious husband before bedtime in the 1920s), you wanted to bite her fucking shoulders.

They were so decidedly masculine even in their feminine slope. You had never considered that shoulders would make you salivate before but here you were. She was driving you fucking crazy.

“Um… daddy?”

“Yes mon amour?” she said adoringly, sweet and solid and sounding like the perfect person to look after you.

“I would really like to touch myself.”

She considered for a moment, overacted it really, before gently taking the mug of tea and setting it on the table behind her.

“Keep your pretty hands where they are, daddy will take care of it oui?”

Her hands were nimble and efficient in pulling your sweats and panties down and you eagerly lifted you hips so they could slide past your ass. She took care in dragging them all the way down, lifting one ankle at a time to get them fully off before folding them neatly and setting them next to the tea.

She looked at your leaking pussy and then up at you with expectation.

“T-thank you daddy” you sputtered, so over eager to have her touch you that it was making you tongue tied and having you lightly humping air.

“Settle” she said, pressing firmly on your mons to get your hips to go down so your ass was once again on the sofa and not pushed up into the air. “You should have told daddy sooner mon amour, how can I take care of you if you do not tell me what you need?”

“Sorry daddy. I need you to make me cum, please. Please daddy” you begged, pushed well past what was a reasonable amount of pure pulsing need. You were pretty sure you passed it sometime around her licking the crumbs from your lips.

“Shh, daddy’s got you. Let’s see now” she said as she circled the pad of her delicate middle finger on your clit. “Poor thing, so swollen and needy.”

You could only whine while she methodically played with you. Fuck, her forearm flexing was making you insane. Your poor brain was imagining it was her fist instead of Mace’s yesterday, it was her hand pushing inside you while that gorgeous forearm tried to follow.

Or what if she played with your clit just like this while Farah pushed her cock inside of you from below? Or maybe you could just sit and watch and fucking struggle as Calisto and Soap made out with each others cunts.

“Keep going mon amour, what else? Perhaps you want me and Keegan to punish you together when you are being naughty hm?”

Fuck you had been spilling all of your fantasies out loud.

“Yes! God daddy please, I know you’d take good care of me!”

She rewarded your candor with two slim fingers diving inside of you and rubbing your walls while her thumb took over on your slippery clit. You were launching towards an orgasm at record fucking speeds.

“Of course I would, but you wouldn’t need it hm? Such a good girl mon amour, maybe instead of punishment it would be a reward for you. Would we slap this juicy clit so hard you suffer la petite mort?”

Oh God, oh God, oh God. She wasn’t even thrusting harder or speeding her thumb or by any account trying to make you nearly pass out from the rush of pleasure, but you hurtled headlong into an orgasm so fast and hard that your whole body spasmed violently, your toes curled and then after what felt like an endless glut of euphoria your body went weak and slack.

You gave a valiant twitch when she cleaned you up with her tongue, a little ‘mmm’ vibrating against your slit because this was very much a fine wine to her. After she deemed you sufficiently proper, she dragged your panties and sweats back up your legs, slipping them on one ankle at a time.

She had to pat your ass a few times before you managed to weakly lift it for her to get them past and on properly.

You couldn’t hold the tea anymore, you weren’t sure you’d be able to hold a feather. But your daddy was there to take care of you so brought it to your lips for you to sip. It had cooled to the perfect temperature, almost like she had planned it all out.

Honestly you could believe it, after all, who could ever look after you better than daddy?

[amourtoken]

im gonna fuel the fire and just note that matt follows some women that do cosplay on insta so hes gotta be into it. i also saw a tweet from him saying he likes fishnets and thigh high socks. again just stopping by to plant some seeds…. *wink wink*🫢

He's literally a fucking degenerate (100% gooner status I'm right don't even fight me) like-

If you're one of those cosplayer twt/onlyfans models? He's subscribed on EVERYTHING. you caught his eye when you did a renne faire elf themed set of videos (he's a lotr dude ofc he's into elves) but you only got hotter to him the more of your content he watched.

He spends SO FUCKING MUCH on you, like actually. You have a tier of subscribers sat up to where they can request videos from you for a certain amount and he's always sending well over $100 each time to get some niche ass content. You love seeing his requests come through cause for one you know the pay is good but two, he makes sure to remind you how pretty you are and how much he appreciates you doing this for him. It's your job but you do feel a Lil different about him than the average subscriber yk? He's basically your virtual sugar daddy.

His last request sent your way was him basically BEGGING for you to have some fishnets and thigh highs on with whatever skimpy ass lingerie you wanted and your elf ears. He gave you some creative liberty but made sure to mention he'd really really really like for you to say his name a few times while you're bouncing on a toy for him. Who are you to deny him? You already whine and cry when you're fucking yourself to the thought of him on your own so why not indulge him on camera?

once you sent the finished product to him he was completely unreachable to anyone for fucking hourssss. The vid was on loop and he found new things to salivate over every time he watched it, first it was how your thighs looked in those tights then how your ass looked while you were riding your oversized bad dragon toy but he kept losing focus on all of that hearing you begging for him to fuck you harder and to let you cum, whining abt how good he feels and how much you love his cock. He could skip watching the video and just get off to hearing you moan his name and trust, he's done that a few times too.

He doesn't even stop stroking after he cums at this point his head is thrown back against the pillows in his bed and he's using the mess spilling over his knuckles as lube to keep fucking his fist. He can't get over you, he'd do fucking anything to have you for a night and fuck you how you deserve. He gets so needy he ends up just messaging you directly and thanking you again, telling you how many times he's gotten off to it and how good you are for him. You indulge and start thanking him for being so sweet all the time and you're rlly laying it on thick. He's texting you with his phone in one hand and dick in the other cause even your vanilla responses are going straight between his legs.

You're totally aware and decide to make it so much worse for him by sending a couple short videos playing w your pussy in a skirt and he's fuckin done for. He's cum so many times by now it just hurts to keep going but he feels like he literally can't stop. He needs more, and feels like it's risky to ask but fuck he can't help it.

"I know you're probably gonna say no but I just cannot fucking get enough of you and I'd love to take you out sometime. Show you a good time then fuck you right. Please?"

Normally you'd say absolutely no this is strictly business and that's creepy but it's matt yk? How could you say no?

[ladyloveandjustice]

Salivating (Dunmeshi Farcille Fic)

A new Marcille x Falin fic, snuck in just before this season's last episode. This one should be accessible to anime-onlies as it's an AU what if rather than being rooted in any part of the story. It's actually based off this fan animation, which makes ME salivate every time I see it. So this one gets a little horny, which is unusual for me, but this level of horny is probably nothing for anyone else on the planet.

cw for some violent deaths and ideas. I have an additional note on the bottom. Enjoy!

---

Marcille ran through the tunnel, gasping with every step. Falin’s—the chimera’s—footsteps thundered behind her, shaking loose soil off the walls.

Marcille had never been a fast runner. Rivers of sweat were pouring down her face, her heavy breathing turning to a desperate wheeze. But she kept going, pure adrenaline driving her on.

She wanted to curse her own stupidity, but she knew if it happened again, she would make the exact same choice.

They hadn’t expected to meet Falin so soon. They’d been eating a meal when she’d found them. Laios had been the quickest to react and the first to go down. He landed a few hits before Falin tore at his face and slammed him to the floor with her clawed foot. Marcille would never forget Laios trying to talk, to yell whatever his plan was this time, even as his bones snapped and blood bubbled out of his mouth

Marcille rushed forward. She had to get to Laios, she had to heal him. Not just because his spasms of agony were tearing through her like the pain was her own, but because of Falin. If Falin killed her brother and remembered that after they saved her, the guilt would crush her.

 But Chilchuck yanked her back behind some fallen rubble. “Don’t go charging in! You’re the only one who can heal and resurrect us! We need you, idiot!”  He hissed it at her, even as his hands shook, even as Falin smashed Senshi into a wall with a sweep of her tail. Izutsumi was nowhere to be found—maybe she’d run off.

“I can’t just—” Marcille snarled.

“You will!” Chilchuck snapped. “Look, I’m going to distract her, I’ll buy you time to do a big spell. If she kills me, get out of here and come back later to save us. That’s our only shot at surviving!”

“No!” she cried, but Chilchuck was already running. Falin snarled, trying to stomp on him, but he was too small and fast. He darted this way and that, and ran past where Senshi was lying prone.

“Senshi! Are you okay? Wake up!” he called. He only slowed down a fraction, but that fraction was enough.

Falin’s mouth twisted in rage. She started to mutter a spell.

No. No!

Marcille didn’t care what Chilchuck wanted or what the best plan was. How dare he ask her stand there and watch him suffer. He couldn’t force her to sacrifice her friends, to watch the woman she loved tear them to pieces. He couldn’t make her murder Falin and be left alone, surrounded by everyone’s dead bodies. She wouldn’t do it!

Chilchuck looked up at Falin looming above him, his face pale.

Marcille swung her staff, setting off an explosion right next to Falin. Falin turned, her eyes wide. “Come and get me!” Marcille screamed, setting off another one. And then she turned and ran. She could hear Chilchuck cursing her out distantly, but it didn’t matter. She knew Falin would come after her. She was the biggest threat right now.

 She ran for her life, even as her legs shook with exhaustion. Sometimes when she took sharp turns, she banged into walls, stone scraping her skin. But she never slowed down. She knew the only reason Falin hadn’t caught up to her was because it was hard for her to move in these narrow tunnels. But Marcille would have to face her at some point.  I need to come up with a plan, I need a plan, I need a plan!

Then she found the thing she’d been dreading all along. A huge cavern. A brick wall. A dead end.

She couldn’t double back, so she ran for the wall, pressing her hands against it, trying to find an opening, a patch of dungeon cleaners, anything. But there was no time. A roar exploded behind her. Marcille whipped around. Falin was squeezing herself out of the tunnel. She landed on the cavern floor with a thud and the whole place shuddered.

Marcille’s staff shook as she tightened her grip on it. She had to do something…something…another explosion, maybe…

Falin towered above her now. She cocked her head, studying Marcille curiously. The rage and snarling from earlier was gone. She didn’t seem to care that Marcille was pointing a weapon at her, as if she knew the threat was empty. Marcille opened her mouth, searching for a spell, but nothing came.

Falin bent down, down, down until her face was level with Marcille’s.

And that was what undid her.

This was the face of the woman she loved. Her golden eyes alight with curiosity, her wheat colored hair that fell in soft wisps around her chin, her apple red cheeks…it was all just as Marcille remembered. Even with blood dripping from her mouth, Falin was so stunningly, achingly beautiful.

And in Falin’s searching eyes, Marcille saw an echo of the exquisite, inquisitive woman who gazed wonderingly at bugs, who explored new places, who discovered strange magic…who gently coaxed out every feeling Marcille tried to bury.

“Falin,” Marcille’s voice cracked. “I know you’re in there. Please, come back to me.”

 Falin leaned forward. Marcille jerked in fear as Falin's hand shot out, but it wasn't the blow she expected. Instead, Falin's fingertips trailed down Marcille's face, soft as whisper. It was the touch she'd been craving for so long. She could even feel Falin's calluses, the ones she'd studied like a map. Marcille wanted to lean into it, let Falin cup her chin like she used to. Her hand felt so right, so perfect, even covered in red.

Her scent enveloped Marcille, that smell of new soil and raspberries …now mixed with the sharp tang of blood. Falin’s hot breath tickled Marcille’s face. Goosebumps raised on her arms. Falin was so close, Marcille could count the faint freckles on her nose. Her lips were pink, soft, parted…

Could she be…?

She’s dangerous, she’s dangerous, it’s really Falin, don’t be an idiot, now’s not the time…!

But even as she thought this, even as she pressed her back against the wall, Marcille’s lips parted too.

Falin grabbed Marcille hard around the chin and jerked her forward. Marcille cried out, but Falin ignored her. She dragged her tongue slowly up Marcille’s cheek, lapping up the blood leaking from the cuts on her face.

A strange shiver raced through Marcille, hot and electric. Her chest heaved.

Seriously?  Some distant part of her mind scolded. What are you doing right now? She’s a MONSTER. She's going to kill you! Where are your priorities?

But then Falin licked her again, and she melted. Falin’s warm tongue traveled up curve of her face, smearing blood everywhere, leaving her skin tingling. Marcille let out a strangled squeak. A flush crawled up her neck.

But even as her knees got weaker with each stroke of Falin’s tongue, even as the blush spread through her entire body, even as ecstasy bloomed, the fear grew in Marcille. With numb horror, she realized that it was Laios’ blood that Falin was dribbling onto her face. She was next. Falin had gotten her taste now. She wasn’t going to stop. Her hand was clamping tighter and tighter around Marcille’s chin.

She had to act. At this range, if she used explosion magic, she’d blow Falin’s head off. The thought made her sick. She could imagine Falin’s scream, being drenched in her blood and brains. She could never hurt Falin like that. But blinding her temporarily with a flash spell…that could work. It would at least give Marcille a chance to run.

Hoarsely, she started to mutter the spell.

The second she did, Falin reared back, lifting her into the air by her throat. Marcille screamed, choked, writhed, and her staff fell to the floor with a clatter. Falin grabbed her around the waist to keep her still, letting go of her neck.

Marcille coughed, eyes streaming. She was pressed against Falin now, with silky feathers brushing her arms.

Falin licked her lips, tongue gliding along her teeth, wetting the blood around her mouth. She was salivating.

Marcille went limp, weighed down by exhaustion. It was over. If Falin wanted to kill her, rip out her throat, even eat her…didn’t she have the right? Marcille was the one who turned her into this, after all. It was what she deserved.

There was something almost freeing about the thought of Falin devouring her, tearing at her flesh, swallowing her bit by bit, finding pleasure in the meal. At least this way, she could do something for Falin. She’d could fill her up, become part of her, if only for a moment.

Marcille closed her eyes. It was better this way. At least now she wouldn’t have to live in a world without Falin…she wouldn’t have to outlive Falin or any of her friends…

Her friends.

Laios lying broken on the floor. Senshi covered in rubble.

Chilchuck’s desperate voice. “You’re the only one who can heal and resurrect us! We need you, idiot!”

Would she abandon them? Would she leave them there to die?

Would she give up on getting Falin back? On hearing her laugh again, on being by her side?

Would she give up on her dream, after all her endless work and struggle?

No. Never.

She opened her eyes. Falin was already nearly at her throat, fangs bared. Marcille struggled, yanking desperately at Falin's hair, pulling out her feathers. Falin simply smiled, as if she was enjoying Marcille's feeble attempts. Her sharp teeth closed around Marcille’s neck, slowly sinking in...

A feral yell tore through the air. Izutsumi leaped out of the tunnel, slashing at Falin’s leg with her claws. It didn’t do much damage, but it was enough to distract Falin. She swiped at Izutsumi, holding Marcille aloft. The catgirl dodged easily.

“Izutsumi!” Marcille shouted, wanting to cry with happiness. She hadn’t abandoned them after all.

Izutsumi grabbed the staff from the floor and tossed it up at Marcille. “You better not blow this!”

Marcille caught it.

Falin’s head turned. Marcille took in her lovely face one last time. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I promise I’ll save you.”

She pressed her staff against Falin’s ribs. And this time, she didn’t hesitate.

---

(Notes: I know Chimera Falin can't digest raw meat and blood, but Marcille doesn't. She does really like the taste of Marcille's blood (romantic), but she's just planning to kill her so she can slurp it up in small amounts at her leisure, without too much tummy trouble. If you need to know.)

[jjkeremika]

Games

description: you and eren like to play games. you took it too far

pairing: eren x you, eren x reader, (fem!reader, eren jaeger aot/snk)

****nsfwcontent***********

You were walking from practice when he had appeared next to you out of thin air. You first noticed him from the sudden grapple onto your arm, then the scorching heat radiating off him like the sun in the summer.

“Eren!” you shouted, physically recoiling from the ambush.

The grip on your wrist was tight; Eren’s knuckles were white and the veins in his hand were popping out and your skin contorted underneath it.

“Eren! Eren, what the fuck!” you shouted again as he forcibly rushed you towards the dorms, your tired feet doing the best they could to compensate and carry along.

You didn't need to look at him to know he rolled his eyes at your protest. And it didn't matter how loud you were, nobody would bat an eyelash at the scene; you two fought all the time.

Only when he finally had you inside did he turn to face and speak to you: "I saw you with him."

A ten-pound weight dropped to the pit in your stomach, exploding with excitement and nervousness at the same time, the hollow-feeling made worse by the fact that you didn't know which boy he was referring to, or if it was one of the events he was supposed to see. "You know I saw you with him."

You rolled your eyes. He literally could've asked you about this without damaging your punching arm.

"Seriously? That's what this is all about?" You cocked your hip and crossed your arms, a playful sour look settling on your face. "You're so childish sometimes."

You knew he was referring to some incident, but which one could he have even seen?

You scoffed, taking note of how the vein in his neck looked ever so pronounced, eager to greet you. You felt your mouth salivating. "You saw me with him. What is that even supposed to mean?"

The slight feel of Reiner's muscles when checking the clothes on his body for tears? The flirty wink to Jean when you bounced on your horse while making eye contact? The quick kiss with Armin behind the map before embarking into the woods?

His lip twitched into a light snarl and he took a deep, slow breath, clenching his fists tightly. Touched a nerve. Good.

"You're not even going to ask me who?" Eren took a step closer. You bit your lip to hide the smirk; it was amusing when he was jealous.

While you never actively kept it a secret, it was never at the top of the to-do list to tell the others about your... relationships. Late nights shared between Eren, Levi, Jean, Reiner, Armin--everyone, kept isolated from one another.

You started to play with your fingertip near your lips, not breaking Eren's eye contact. The sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears as the physical sensation vibrated in your chest.

"Would it make you feel better if I did?" you asked quietly, arrogantly, egging him on.

The best part of it all was knowing they kept you to themselves too. Never once did they speak about how they viewed you, how they felt about you, what they wanted to do and what they did do to you. A secret, a selfish memory for themselves.

His jaw locked and his arms and shoulders tensed, the shadows and light hugging his muscles so intimately, tracing the veins closely.

But Eren... didn't share. Anything. At all. Ever.

Especially not you.

He all but lunged at you until your back made contact with the door and his hand wrapped around your neck, firmly and possessively, like a collar.

You knew that. You liked that about him, how passionate and emotionally-driven he was. It reminded you of how passionate he could be towards you.

You kept eye contact, your hand coming up to pull on his hair in retaliation. You smiled despite the choking hold around your neck. His eyes flicked briefly to your lips.

"You are so dramatic," you gasped with a smile, tugging on Eren's hair, pulling him closer to you. "And so emotional."

He pressed slightly harder onto your neck, his long fingers wrapping around, almost touching at the back. He hardly rested his forehead against yours; you winced slightly from the surprise impact.

"Why do you always have to piss me off?" The whisper spends shivers down your spine that spread out between your legs, drawing attention to the strong pulse.

You chuckled boldly and airily, the hot breath you two shared was making you dizzy. "Stop getting so pissed off then," you huffed, chasing his proximity.

He pressed his body against yours and you felt his erection on your upper thigh, pressing into your thin, battle-worn pant fabric. You heard him moan over the noise from hitting the door and felt Eren's hot breath trickle down the skin on your neck, kissing trails of goosebumps.

"Stop affecting me so fucking much then," he breathlessly huffed in response, then quickly bit at the skin on your neck, soothing the irritated nerves with a flat lick of his tongue. His voice was dangerously low, stimulating nerves deep within your skin, setting off electric signals like a million sparks.

His free hand firmly cupped your breast, squeezing so harshly it took a second for the skin to reform. He tipped his hand in through the shirt collar and under your sports bra, molding the fabric underneath the muscle's stronger resolve.

You boldly reached towards his erection, your hand teasingly lightly cupping the tented structure. You smiled at the gasp of air he loudly inhaled.

"Oh, Eren," you cooed, squeezing lightly, coaxing out another breathless gasp from his parted lips, "but it's just so easy."

"Stop fucking playing with me, y/n," Eren spat automatically, his eyes shadowing with regret as soon as you removed your hands from him body. "Why can't we just be together already?"

You prevented the bubbling chuckle from escaping by kissing him delicately, holding his face closely with a loose grip his chin. "Baby," you whispered against his lips, feeling his heartbeat reverberate against your chest, "you can't even handle me talking to someone else now."

He was quick to speak, kissing you quickly after like he was soothing a wound before it could bleed. "But that's because I know what you're doing with them now." Eren leaned backward slightly so he could look at your eyes.

The weight in your gut that dropped in response was less than pleasant, more guilty for all the games meant to rile him up in some way.

"If you were mine it'd be different," he growled, eyes dark and clouded. You felt his hands move to your chest, you felt him pulling on the buttons of your shirt. "You should be mine."

It was your turn to kiss to soothe the wound. You caressed his cheek softly and quickly thought of something to say to divert the subject. Now wasn't the time for you to make that decision.

His fingers were fast, working the shirt off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor with the softest noise.

"Prove."

They quickly reached for the final layer, quickly undoing the clasp he was achingly familiar with, and let that drop to the ground with a louder thud.

"It."

Two fingers clasped around your nipple, tightly squeezing, while the other hand grabbed your hip so tightly it would be a shock if there were no bruises. He pawed at your skin roughly, like he wanted to leave a lasting memory.

His lips were drawn to yours harshly, a crash landing that quickly morphed into a harmonious rhythm of smooth lips and rough tongues colliding.

You pressed your knee into his crotch, smiling at the sultry noise that erupted from the depths of his throat.

As quickly as he'd kissed you he'd pulled away. Then Eren had grabbed your arm and dragged you towards the bed, roughly pushing you onto your hands and knees on the ready-made mattress. Not Eren's bed.

"I'll prove it to you" he was speaking roughly, slowly, like the words held knives, "that you're mine."

His hands immediately wrapped around your waist and started pulling on your pants zipper. You arched your back and tried to shove your butt closer to his face. You squealed in delight when you were rewarded with a harsh slap to both cheeks.

He tugged the panties and pants to your ankles swiftly, leaving a red trail from his eager fingernails digging into your thighs. He smacked the right cheek, smiling proudly at how the bare skin jiggled in response.

Eren placed both hands on both cheeks and squeezed hardly, the veins in his hands contrasting against the soft contorted skin in his grip. He kissed randomly around the two jiggly globes, tentatively licking out the closer and closer he was to your clit.

"Prove to you that I'm better than your other boyfriend," he said to break the growing tension in the air, the tension that you were suffocating on as he nosed around the exposed spot between your legs.

The familiar smell from the sheets clicked in. He'd thrown you on Levi's bed.

"Remember when you smiled at me," Eren grumbled angrily as he smacked your ass harshly, twice, groaning at the way the skin rippled in response, "through that fucking window." He pointed at the window and pressed his crotch into your bare bum, the tented fabric firmly slotting between your cheeks.

He bent over and bit your neck, causing you to squeal softly. "Making me watch him fuck you like that." He shoved his crotch into you, forcing you forward slightly.

Your spine shivered at the memory, you'd forgotten about that. That was so long ago. Levi had fucked you in his bunk early morning, when everyone else had gotten up early for chores. Eren had finished early… so did Levi.

Eren’s lips brushed along your neck, leaving soft bites and kisses and a trail of cooled saliva.

"Made me realize how I wanted to be him." He smacked your ass multiple times, the skin tingling and reddening in a handprint outline. "To be the one fucking you."

He pulled his crotch away but he filled the space with his finger, quickly finding the reservoir of nature's lubricant and pushing his finger inside. He used his other hand to undo his own pants.

You moaned loudly as Eren slipped two more fingers inside, moving and folding them in different angles and smirking as he coaxed various noises out of you--enough to craft a symphony.

You rocked your hips onto his hand, sitting back into the force to emphasize the feeling, to extend the contact. You moaned as he increased the speed and force of his finger thrusts.

"To be the only one fucking you." You cried out as he removed his hands and tucked his nose between your legs, anchoring his hands on your thighs as he licked hungrily at your wet clit, like he was licking his name into your skin, carving possession of eren into the sensitive skin.

You moaned out as the finger slipped back inside, the sensation joining that alongside the rough texture of his tongue against hundreds of active nerve endings. Your thighs tensed around his head as the heat inside you continued to build.

Eren used his free hand to guide your hips, rocking them back and forth of his fingers and tongue.

Eren’s fingers slipped out and started subbing against your clit, which made you roll your hips forward and fall to the mattress, rutting his hand against the mattress to increase the pressure and friction.

He started kissing up your spine, each tap sending a tingle from your toes to your spine. You curled your toes as his grip on your hip tightened; he can feel your whole body tense.

So close. You were so so very close.

And then he let go.

The blood pumped so heavily and the heart was so loud and it vibrated from the chest to the toes. Your thighs were still wet.

You recoiled forward from the force of one last smack to the cheek. “I’ll let you finish when you’re mine.”