#thank you so much for the delicious thot
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Idk why this has been stuck in my head but Alfred and facefucking is just 😮💨👌🏽
You and Alfred are very open with each other and are happy to try anything once. And he knows that you’d never judge or deny him but the idea is just so filthy he’s can’t bear to ask you.
But maybe you notice the way he restrains himself whenever you get on your knees for him, white-knuckle gripping the nearest surface to restrain himself and you can tell he wants more.
You open your throat and grip the back of his thighs but still yourself, looking up at him with glassy eyes, practically begging him to give in to himself.
His hands shakily gripping the base of your skull as he slides himself out to the tip before thrusting back in, the wet gag you make like music to his ears.
anon oh my god get back here and say more! 👀💖 I love this so much - and right the trust would be there but surely those desires doesn’t align with ones of a gentleman, and if nothing else alfred prides himself on his self-restraint. I could so see him pushing down those urges - perhaps imagining that submission, for just a brief moment, but nothing more.
but of course you’ve come to read him, of course you want that too, and yes, that silent begging for him to give in - ahh!!! I am going to be thinking about this all day! 💕
#I’ve been wanting to write a filthy alfred one shot and the vibes in this have my mind racing!! 💖#thank you so much for the delicious thot#alfred pennyworth smut#Alfred pennyworth headcanons#anons#eupheme answers
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up sky, low high
frankie morales x f!reader | frankie morales masterlist
summary: frankie takes you on a heli-ride. you decide to test his competency and take him for a ride.
word count: 1.9k warnings: smut. 18+. there's mouth to cock action in the sky - new kink for jo? maybe. jo's interpretation of how to fly a heli is deffo a warning in itself. everyone is safe. remember he's a professional, but don't try this in the air bbys. jo’s spelling—written on phone, forgive me. moodboard not reflective of reader. an: this wouldn't be possible without @morallyinept who not only thotted with me, told me to write this, filled me with confidence at the halfway point when i sent it to her but also made the prettiest banner and moodboard for this (see at the bottom). babe ily, thank you so much for this.
It’s not ideal—not even close to safe.
Finger pushing in on the button that releases the elements of your seatbelt as you swallow, staring at him. Gawking, in fact.
Frankie always looks good, a fact not fiction.
Whether it’s first thing in the morning, sleep in his eyes—fingers scratching over his soft stomach as he yawns. Or when his eyes are hidden under the bill of his hat, dark, all mahogany brown pupils blown with lust as the thing on the television becomes forgotten.
And while he does always look incredible, there’s something criminal about the way he looks right now. Piloting, all in his element, wearing fucking competency like he was the one who first birthed it as he keeps the helicopter in the air.
Short flight, he’d said when he’d helped you into the rental.
Now, you could bet on it.
Because you're not even sure how long you’ve been in the air, too busy gazing, hungrily undressing him as he flicks switches and checks gauges. Your understanding of what he was doing lost, barely reaching a basic level.
What you do know is that if he reaches over, slides his hand up your dress and touches the fabric covering your pussy, he’d find them soaked.
But then, he’d also likely notice the way you’re taking shallow breaths, that you’ve been squirming for friction for the past so many instructions—
Because of his voice.
It all low, husky—dragged through gravel when it comes through the headset. Pointing out sights, places, but he’s the only thing you want to gaze at from this height. From any height.
That’s why the thought had arrived, to begin with, the lucrative one. The one so far gone that you try not to consider logistics and just trust in the fact he’d stop you if it was too unsafe. Your voice barely steady through the microphone, asking—layered and wrapped with demand, as your pulse quickens and your palms become slick with sweat.
You know the idea is ridiculous. Yet, somehow, you find yourself moving up onto your knees, digging them into the chair you’d just been seated on.
That’s when you see it. The glimmer, the spark, before he whines out that he’ll maintain altitude as you palm him over his cargo pants. Feeling him harden, pressing against the zipper, all thick, long and delicious as your mouth waters.
Because you need him in your mouth.
A thing you must murmur because suddenly he’s helping—lifting his hips as he whispers an oh fuck, when you drag his layers down and your hand wraps around his cock. More so when you move your wrist, dipping your head to slide your tongue to lick up the bead of want already there at the tip.
Flicking your gaze up, you find hungry eyes staring back—ones lit by the sun, shades a plenty making up the lust-filled gaze that makes your mouth open wider as you take as much of him as you can.
Fuck it’s glorious.
Both the thrum of vibrations through the cushion seat under your knees as he keeps the thing in the air and the feel of his hot length sliding against your tongue. As you take him. As you make him hiss through gritted teeth when you try to take a little more of him than you usually manage—tears springing in your eyes and your throat constricting around him—
“Careful, querida,” he soothes.
Large hand cupping the back of your head, easing, aiding, as his cock rests at the entrance of your mouth, placed perfectly on your lower lip. Breath coming back to you; eyes blinking as he darts his eyes from the world below him to you.
“You okay?”
Until now, you weren’t sure if it was possible to be more in love with him. Then he proved that even up in the air he thought of nothing but what was best for you.
Nodding, spit trailing down your chin, droplets falling to your chest where it pools as fabric meets skin, you smile. Gleam. Grin. Before making him swallow a moan as you take him again, his head falling back.
It’s then, when you hollow your cheeks do you feel him shift, allowing him, as he gently thrusts to slide his length as far down your throat as it allows. Good girl, so good, my good girl—
Humming around him at his praise, a blend of languages as he calls you pretty and perfect. And you can tell he’s close, taste it on your tongue as he begins to rock his hips, as he begins to hiss—teeth biting down on his lip, imagining his knuckles whitening around the cyclic stick.
It’s enough to make you come from the thought—close to ruining your own panties further as you press your thighs together.
Closing your lips around him, sucking and adorning, showing him, etching your love for him with the way your tongue swirls over the tip, hand gripping his thigh as he groans your name. It followed by s’close, m’close baby—
Then he pulls you off him, all with care. Spit connecting your lips to his tip as you stare at him in confusion. The line dropping, snapping—it clinging to the curls at the base of him, soaking his hair like dew on a spring morning.
“Frankie…”
It’s all you manage to croak out. Eyes wide, thoughts barely present, all cock-drunk and adrenaline-fuelled—the scent of him still there, around your nose, musk and engine oil.
“Need to land,” he replies, short, jaw tight—cock angry and throbbing between his thighs as he flicks a switch. “Can’t… can’t fuck you, unless I land.”
You’re not sure he’s ever landed so quickly, never mind so clunky. Remembering stories, how he gloats at his prowess at most of his land landings. But you have no time to question, think, or ask, before he pulls off his belt, headset and hat before reaching to yank you into his lap.
It’s clumsy—a mess of limbs, a tight squeeze as your hands skate around his neck. But you forget about it all when his mouth crashes to yours. Kissing you so hard and hungrily your teeth clash. His breath is hot in your mouth as he pants at the feel, likely tasting himself as he slips his tongue into yours.
And it’s warm, his tongue. Licking into your mouth, large hands around your waist brushing your clothed core against his cock—the hiss reverbing down your throat as you swear you feel him shake. Tremble. So desperate for you that it makes him quiver.
You love kissing him.
Could spend hours doing it. Not caring about jaw aches when you’re tangled up with him. Like right now. In some field, in some place—
“Need t’fuck you, baby. Can I fuck you please?” he asks, voice low, but tinged with a plea.
His hand balls up your dress, the other hand hooking a finger in to pull your soaked underwear from your pussy before groaning at the sight. “Hold them for me, baby.”
Swallowing, smiling—you do. Lifting, nudging yourself closer as your knees screech on the leather as you become full of molten hunger. Hovering over him as he eases the head of his cock to your slick entrance, sliding it through your folds, eyes focused on you.
“Can’t wait.”
“Then, don’t,” you whisper.
Then he hisses as he pushes in, right between his teeth. One that’s born at the back of his throat and makes an entrance into the air. Cuts. Slices. The sound so fucking hot that you clench around him when he bottoms out—mouth open in an O at how full, stretched and stuffed you feel.
“No te muevas—lemme feel you, baby. Fuck—”
Your smile widens—practically smirking. Shifting on him as the hand on your waist tightens its hold. But, you’re not listening. Even less so when you press an open-mouth kiss to his skin as you begin to move, to slowly slide your pussy up and down his shaft.
“Fuck, querida—feel so—good—incredible. Tu perfecto. Made for me, you know that…”
It’s layered—all in a breath; you answer similarly when you say that you do. Practically pressing it into the air as you pant, resting your forehead on his shoulder, as the two of you are quick to find a pace.
It’s almost drowned by how wet you are, how loud it is when he begins to thrust up into you. All aching for one another, practically feral as you feel your slick clings to your inner thighs—likely smudging against his skin as your fist clenches at his shirt. Clit brushing against the tangle of coarse hair, you’re soaking, that makes you dizzy as he begins to fuck up into you.
All deep thrusts. Making you moan—feeling nothing but good. Perfect. Amazing.
Just how he always makes you feel this way. Every, single, time—
“Need you to come, baby,” he strains, rasps, groans as you feel his hand—all expert, calloused in the right places—snake between the two of you.
It’s there, trying to disguise between letters: desperation. Despair. His touch confirms it, finding your bundle of nerves as he makes you gasp, arch, tighten around him as your hand finds refuge on the back of his neck. Your fingers slide into his sweat-soaked curls, smearing against your fingers as you clutch, grip and grasp.
And you’re aware of it now. How the cabin is warmer—windows likely smothered in perspiration—but it’s nothing compared to the heat of your body. It licks at your neck, at the base of your spine, the backs of your thighs that meet your calves.
But you’re lost in it, in him. Wanting nothing more than to come; unable to speak from how much you want to. More so as his hips cant up into you, as you begin to see white in the corner of your vision—as your body becomes more fire than bone.
Tightening around him as he shifts, an angle that makes you see fucking stars as you whine his name like it’s made of one syllable.
“—that’s it, querida. Fuck, s’good for me, I love—“
It building, so near to snapping as you hear him babbling, rambling. Your mouth is just open against his neck, moaning—the noise slipping out of you as it slams into you. His voice fading, the world going quiet as you come undone, all pulsing, all clenching down on him as it crests.
But his hips push you through it. Chasing, seeking. His pace is all sloppy, difficult, lost as you blink your eyes open to see the way his face is scrunched, lips over his teeth. And if you hadn’t just, you swear you’d come against from the sight.
That look of sheer determination, skin bathed in sweat before his eyes find yours—crystallising, glazed over and fucked out—
“Come for me, baby,” you whisper.
And his expression pauses. Relaxes.
Smooths.
His hand tightens on your hip, grunting out your name—burying it into the air as his hips stutter. Then, he whines. Spilling inside of you as he collapses back into the chair, you pressed against him, jaw all slack and his eyes clenched shut.
And you swear you can feel his heartbeat. It is all out of step with your own.
Not that you care.
Smiles painted on your faces as your eyes met his, breaths ragged, your finger wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.
Before his lips slide back over yours, kissing you, writing gratitude against your mouth as the muscles in his neck flex under your palm.
an: look how pretty this issssssss. thank you so much, jett.
#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x y/n#francisco morales x reader#francisco morales smut#francisco morales x you#frankie morales x reader smut#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales fanfic#frankie morales smut#frankie morales#pedro pascal character fanfiction#triple frontier fic#francisco catfish morales
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Hi, it's me! The "silly little Czech ass" and I like this post a moderate amount:)))))) I am normal about this:))) do not look at tags idk what you're talking about
Hi there, I'm new here, and love your work sm. My silly little Czech ass got positively jumpscared at the Fiala name, and then I discover he's got Czech/Polish ancestry. AND THAT HE KNOWS THE LANGUAGE? I AM SHOOK. The fact that he could speak to me in my native language is so cool. Like you have NO idea how excited the fact makes me.
a/n: I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS SO MUCH! it's honestly why i love writing ocs with different backgrounds becos i want to jumpscare people like this!
casimir fiala ★ profile
Hell yeah he'd speak to you in Polish or in Czech! He's had a lot of practice speaking with his grandparents so the words flow smoothly off his tongue. In fact, when he speaks English, there's a bit of an accent there that makes it seem that he's been speaking Polish his whole life. He might even call you cute endearing nicknames in Czech, especially if it catches you off-guard every single time or if makes you a bit flustered.
But you know the best part? He literally inherited both his grandparents' recipes so you know he makes the best Czech food. When you're sick, he makes the warmest and most comforting soup. And then fried cheese or potato pancakes for snacks? Always! And whenever you're craving a good warm kolache, he'll have one ready for you immediately.
He loves his heritage because his grandparents have raised him with love and he has good memories with it. So he literally incorporates it daily in his life and there's no way he wouldn't love sharing all of that with you too
#Crying screaming rolling on the FLOOR COLLAPSING HEART FAILING OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH AAAAA#I'M THE CZECH ASS IN PERSON#SORRY NOT SORRY THIS IS SOME DELICIOUS FUCKIN FOOD#I would kiss him on the MOUTH if he made me koláče#Or svíčková#Or the pet names#Gah damn#Czech has such cute pet names stfu I'm thinking thots#I don't make the rules#Kissing him on the mouth#Thank you so much for this post
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i have an oscar thot 😋
imagine oscar fucking reader in front of a mirror as "punishment" for being a tease all day and he's being all "look at the mess you're making of yourself", maybe a little overstim 🤭🤭
(ignore this if it's a bit much i'm just feeling self indulgent rn, maybe it's that new photoshoot lmao)
anon this was delicious. thank u for sending this in, i went feral for this and wrote it all in one sitting at midnight so i hope it’s good 😩
18+ content (smut & one instance of choking) under the cut, MDNI!!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
mirror | op81
you knew exactly what you were doing. every teasing touch, whether to your boyfriend’s biceps encased in his suit jacket or up the expanse of his thighs under the table, was calculated; a means to an end that would hopefully leave you gasping for air at the end of the night. yet when oscar finally grabs your arm and drags you to the car, your heart still begins to race.
he keeps his grip on you all the way home, all the way through the door, all the way down the hall to the bedroom. you’re quick to sit on the bed, leaning back on your hands and pushing your chest forward to entice oscar more than you know you already have.
you expect him to stalk towards you, rip your clothes off, and do whatever he pleases with you. it’s what you want; you know it, and he certainly knows it. instead, he takes his time closing the distance to you. he takes far too long to turn on the bedside lamp, giving you a coy smile the whole time. he takes his time maneuvering himself between your legs and cupping your face in his hands before leaning down and placing a searing kiss on your lips that only escalates as he reaches behind you to unzip your dress.
he gets you naked with practiced ease, shedding his jacket and white button up as you make yourself comfortable against the pillows and let your eyes slide over every inch of his newly exposed skin like you’ve never seen him naked before. he completely bypasses your lips when he joins you on the bed, moving directly to your neck, lightly biting and sucking marks into your delicate skin.
the only warning sign of your impending punishment goes mostly unnoticed— you go to put your hands in his hair, and he doesn’t let you. he disguises it well, though; he simply laces your fingers with his own as his lips continue their downward descent before finally reaching their destination between your legs. that thoroughly distracts you, and he knows your body so well that he has you on the edge before you can comprehend the fact that he’s being so nice to you.
“oscar, ‘m close, don’t stop—” you’re saying, and then he’s doing the exact opposite, retracting himself from you entirely.
he’s being so surprisingly romantic about this that when he’s gone, your eyes fly open to stare at him in disbelief. he simply licks his lips and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before fixing you with a look of faux sympathy.
“oh, i’m sorry, did you think you were getting rewarded for the shit you were pulling all night?”
there it is.
your breath gets caught in your throat as he stands up and walks to the corner of the room where your full length mirror that you always use for fit checks stands. he picks it up and places it against the wall directly across from the bed before he turns his attention back to you. “cat got your tongue, honey?”
“i- i’m—”
“don’t waste my time. hands and knees facing the mirror, now.”
you bite your lip, heart knocking against your chest in anticipation. he’s never fucked you in front of a mirror before, and while you’d rather look at him than yourself, that’s how you know that your mission was successful.
you situate yourself on all fours like he told you, looking down at the way your hands are spread over the duvet as he gets back on the bed behind you, hands sliding down your back and over your ass.
“think you can just get away with being such a tease?” when you don’t answer, he reaches up to fist your hair and tugs harshly. “answer, or i’m going to leave you here all needy and desperate.”
“no, don’t wanna get away with it.” you say immediately, and he scoffs.
“oh, i see. so you want to be punished.” you try to nod, and he pulls your hair again. “god, you’re such a brat.”
“‘m your brat, though,” is all you can think to say, and luckily he seems to like that because he loosens his grip on your hair and leans down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades.
“fuck yeah, you are. now pick your head up.” he instructs, pointing towards your reflections in the mirror. “i don’t want you looking anywhere but right there. if you look down once, i’m stopping. got it?”
“yes,” you reply, pushing yourself back against him. “please, oscar—”
“behave,” he warns, before he’s pushing into you without any notice and your mind just goes completely blank.
you almost look down immediately, nearly unable to keep your eyes on the mirror when he feels so good inside of you and you finally have what you wanted since you saw him looking nothing short of tantalizing in his suit. neither of you have ever been fans of all the fancy events, but you’d happily go to a million more if the night always ends like this.
oscar doesn’t hold back at all, immediately setting a blistering pace that has you gripping the sheets even harder than you already were. you chance a look at him in the mirror, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes you when you see how good he looks behind you. the longer strands of hair sticking to his forehead, the slight flush of his cheeks and chest from exertion, the way his eyes meet yours in the mirror and a breathless laugh escapes him when you tell him you’re close again.
“go ahead, baby, let go f’me.” he says, and you do with a cry of his name, fighting against your instincts to collapse as your legs shake and his hips slow, helping you ride it out.
but this is still a punishment, so he only gives you a few moments reprieve before picking right back up, making you yelp.
“no, no, too sensitive, please,” you manage to say, and he reaches forward to wrap a hand around your throat and pull you up so your back is flush against his chest.
“what did you say?” he asks, and when you open your mouth to respond his hand tightens just enough that you can still breathe, but you can’t get words out. “that’s what i thought. just take it and keep your eyes on the mirror.”
you obey silently, wishing that you weren’t blocking him now because he looks beautiful even when he’s disheveled like this and you… well, you look like a complete disaster. oscar seems to come to the same conclusion, because he keeps talking, lips brushing against your ear as he continues to rail you within an inch of your life.
“look at the mess you’re making of yourself,” he whispers, free hand snaking down your front and slipping between your legs. “what happened to my pristine, put together girl from earlier, huh? posing so prettily for all those pictures. now look at you.”
letting out a whimper at his words, you have no choice but to look. you’ve never watched yourself get fucked, but you know you’ve never looked this out of it before. your vision is blurry from tears of pleasure, but you can see the mascara running down your cheeks. your hair is a mess from oscar grabbing it, and your jaw is completely slack. you bring a hand up to curl around his wrist so he doesn’t let go of your throat. if he wasn’t holding on to you, you’d be face down and too out of it to care about his threat of stopping.
and maybe you like having his hand there too.
“oscar,” you say, voice hoarse from his grip. “i-i think i’m—”
“fuck, i feel it.” he grits out when you clench around him. “you can give me one more, yeah?”
“mhmm, for you,” you moan out, head falling back against his shoulder.
he doesn’t even care, a higher pitched moan escaping his mouth that tells you he’s not going to last much longer. “that’s right, all for me, all mine. my little fuckin’ tease.”
his words send you over the edge again, and you feel all your energy leave your body as your second orgasm takes everything out of you and leaves you slumped against his body as he follows suit, falling forward and barely holding himself up above you when you fall limp onto the mattress. you can feel his heavy breaths against the side of your face as he pulls out of you and rolls to the side so he can lay face down as well and get his eyes on you.
he flashes his polite cat smile at you, and you smile back, finding it hard to comprehend that this cutie with the side of his face smushed against the mattress is the same guy that just had you seeing stars mere seconds ago.
“still with me, honey?” he asks softly, reaching out and running his fingers down your spine.
you shiver at his touch, nodding slowly. “the mirror?”
he has the audacity to blush. “caught my eye when we first came in here and i went with it.”
you touch his flushed cheek, brushing his hair out of his face. “i should tease you more often.”
he tries to give you a menacing look, but with half his face squished it doesn’t work very well. you both dissolve into giggles, and as he kisses you softly, you start thinking about what you can do next time to make him get the mirror again.
word count: 1,611
masterlist — join my tag list here!
note: i apologize for nothing unless there’s something poorly written here because by the time i finished writing it i was at a reasonable level of delirium. n e ways…
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748
#aries answers#anon <3#request#blurb#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri smut#op81 x reader#op81 x you#op81 imagine#op81 smut#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smut#formula one smut#formula 1 smut
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So i couldnt sleep so my mind went rambling abt bad blood tommy fucking reader while on facetime w joel. (Like yk filming reader if that makes sence.) And tommy MAYBE brat taming her a little bit or smt and joel telling him what to do or smt. (You can ignore that last part lol)
Xx
BAD BLOOD extra || Tommy’s visit || 2,1k happens after part 6 | can be read alone
Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, step-cest, age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), brat tamer!Tommy, mean!Joel, voyeurism, exhibitionism, unprotected piv, consensual ass spanking, creampies, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, ass play, swearing, smoking. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions.
A/n: thank you for the delicious thots and inspo, lovely nonnie!💖😘I’m not gonna ignore the last part bc it’s hot af! Hugs to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Love you all!❤️ dividers by @saradika-graphics
Part 6 || SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST
Tommy’s visiting you while you’re at college and he got a hotel room for you two for a whole weekend, starting Friday. After a few weeks apart and numerous phone sex sessions you couldn’t take your hands off each other. You lost count how many times Tommy made you come on his tongue, his fingers, his cock.
Fucked out of your mind, you’re lying naked on your front in the bed, nibbling on some French fries that you ordered to the room.
“Let’s call uncle Joel,” you offer, smiling at Tommy who’s resting next to you, leaning against the headboard, drinking water and stealing your fries from time to time. He’s naked as well and you marvel at his golden skin, glistening with sweat, his long dark curls, some stuck to his forehead and neck.
“You miss him?” he asks, grabbing his phone off the nightstand.
No way you will admit it so you answer with a shrug. Over the weeks apart Joel and you phoned each other too. Your calls were much shorter than with your stepdad and consisted of him making you come by degrading you over the phone, while your vibrator was pressed to your clit or your fingers were playing with your pussy. He never jerked off though. ‘I ain’t a fucking teenager to jack off over the phone like that,” he always said. But you could bet that as soon as he hung up, his hand darted to his throbbing cock.
When Joel picks up the phone, you hear music and people talking loudly. It’s Friday night so of course he’s at some bar. Tommy greets him and the noises get quiet when the older brother apparently steps outside.
“Hey, uncle Joel,” you purr, when Tommy passes you the phone. Joel gives you a trace of a smile, his face illuminated by the dim street light. He’s looking handsome and smug as always, with a lit cigarette hanging off his lower lip.
“Tommy, why is this little slut still talking?” he raises his voice so his brother could hear. “You’ve been there all day, she shoulda been in a cock coma by now.”
Tommy shakes his head, mumbling ‘Jesus’ and you roll your eyes.
“Stop it, daddy’s made my pussy very happy.”
Joel hums in disbelief and you pout your lips.
“Why haven’t you come with him?”
“I have work this weekend, angel. Need to get some dough so when you visit us I can spoil you like a princess.”
“Really?” You beam at the screen.
“Hell no! Ima spend it on hookers and blow,” he chuckles.
“Fuck you,” you curse at him and throw the phone back to Tommy.
You turn over on your back and with your brows furrowed, start angrily chewing on a fry.
“Second, Joel,” Tommy mumbles, crawls to you and slowly gets between your thighs, the phone still in his hand.
“You know he’s joking, right? We can't wait for you to visit us in Austin.”
Tommy’s warm smile softens your attitude and you slide lower to wrap your legs around his hips, pressing your cum filled pussy to his already hardening cock.
He takes it as an invitation, which it absolutely is, and glides his pink tip between your slicked up pussy lips, massaging your clit and drawing needy whimpers out of your half-opened mouth.
“Look at this, Joel,” Tommy smirks, turning the phone and directing the camera to your cunt, hugging his stiff cock.
“Damn, angel,” you hear your step uncle respond.
Then Tommy slowly changes the phone's angle so your step uncle could see your naked body, squirming against the messy sheets.
You look at the screen, eyes already glossy with lust and bliss, and bite your lip, hearing a loud growl, coming out of Joel's mouth at the sight of your puffy wet folds, being used by his brother, your heaving belly, your hickey-covered tits and pebbled nipples.
“Looking hot, baby,” you hear him compliment you and almost come at how rare and thus more delicious it is.
“Thank you, uncle,” you breathe out and suddenly cry out when Tommy roughly pushes his cock into your weeping hole, taking you by surprise.
“Daddy!”
“Yes, my love?” Tommy gives you a naughty smile, rolling his hips into you and you smile back. The way he fills you is so satisfying, it makes your pussy greedily clench and gush more around his cock .
“How is she?” Joel asks, and you hear him take a drag of his cigarette.
Tommy turns the camera back to himself and talks to his brother, while his cock is languidly sliding in and out of your soft cunt.
“She’s heaven, Joel. You’re missing out.”
At this point you’re not sure if they’re talking about you or your pussy, which turns you on even more.
“Yeah, fuck, ya know that we need to get that contract. I’m meeting them tomorrow morning.”
To your shock they start discussing the upcoming deal and your jaw drops in astonishment.
“Hello! Your dick’s inside me! Can you talk shop later?” you grunt at Tommy and hear Joel’s gruff voice.
“Shut it, angel. Grownups are talking.”
Tommy gives you an apologetic smile but then continues speaking to Joel.
Anger boils up in your stomach and you plant your foot on Tommy's chest and push yourself off his cock. The man hisses, apparently in pain from your sudden movement. But you couldn’t care less. How dare he? you think, feeling hurt and offended.
You roll over on your belly, grab a handful of fries and shove them into your mouth.
“What the fuck, babygirl? Ouch,” Tommy growls behind you.
“Whatever.”
“Come on, sweetheart. I’ve just asked him a couple of questions. It’s important.”
“Fucking brat,” Joel comments on the phone and you grind your teeth.
Trying to soothe you, Tommy rubs the back of your thigh with his warm hand.
“My cock’s hard and waiting for you, my love.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” you bite back and Tommy throws the phone on the bed next to you.
Suddenly he plops down on top of you, pressing you into the mattress with his heavy body.
“He’s right. You are a fucking little brat,” he hisses in your ear and grabs your arms with his strong hands, when you try to lift your torso to push him off. “I’ve been railing this needy cunt all day and you can’t give me a few seconds?”
He bucks his hips against your ass and you moan, feeling his huge cock dig between your asscheeks.
“Daddy,” you whimper in defeat.
“Bitch needs to be punished, brother,” Joel’s modulated voice is egging Tommy on.
“Ain’t he right, sweetie?” Tommy grunts, his hot breath fanning your cheek.
Your mischievous smile tells him everything he needs to know and he commands, lifting his torso off you and sitting up.
“Ass up, babygirl!”
He slaps your asscheek and you whine, when the vibrations pleasure your sensitive pussy.
You do as you’re told and grab the phone with a naughty smile, before placing it against the headboard, letting Joel see what your stepdad is about to do to you.
“Should I spank this minx, Joel?”
“Fuck yeah! This brat’s begging to be disciplined. Right, little slut?”
“Yes, please, daddy, uncle,” you obediently breathe out, wiggling your pushed up ass.
It immediately earns you a slap from Tommy and you moan.
“Shall I keep going, sweetie?” Tommy asks and you hastily nod.
Another slap lands on your ass and then another and another.
“Fuck, wish I could join you, brother,” Joel groans. “I’d give it to her good.”
Tommy spares you, his hits are not that hard, but after having the same spot spanked a few times, you feel heat and ache spread over your skin.
“Daddy,” you whine and he glides his palms over the globs of your ass in a soothing gesture.
“Will you interrupt me again, babygirl?” he asks and slaps your burning asscheek.
“No, daddy!”
“Good girl,” Tommy praises as his hand runs over your spine and squeezes the back of your neck.
“And never get off this cock until I’m done with you. Understand?”
You nod your head, noticing Joel smirk on the screen.
“We should punish her more often, brother. Pity that the slut loves it too much.”
You stick your tongue out at Joel and turn to Tommy.
“Fuck me, daddy. Please.”
“Of course, sweetheart. Your hole’s been clenching the whole time I’ve been slapping your sexy ass. She’s so needy.”
“She is daddy—ahhh,” you purr and moan as he inserts his fat cock into your cunt and begins thrusting into you hard and fast.
“Pussy’s already full of my cum. So wet. Gonna give you more, sweetie.”
“Yeah, ruin this cunt, Tommy,” Joel growls and you stare at his handsome face with half-lidded eyes, reveling in the sensation of Tommy’s cock massaging your walls, and Joel’s black gaze, watching you getting railed.
“Angel,” you hear his voice, calling you. “Can you do something for your dear uncle?”
“Yeah?”
“Stick two fingers into your ass for me.”
You curse, getting more turned on.
“Good idea, Joel,” you hear Tommy’s strained voice as he must be close to coming.
“Get the phone,” Joel says to his younger brother and soon he has a perfect view of your ass and pussy, stretched around Tommy’s cock.
You bring your hand to your asshole and mewl,
“Daddy, help.”
“Of course, my love,” your stepdad coos at you and spreads your asscheeks with his thick fingers, giving you a better access to your tight hole and then spitting right on it.
You jerk at the sensation of his saliva hitting your puckered hole and sliding down your crack. You spread the liquid over and slowly push the tip of your middle finger inside.
“Relax, baby,” Tommy says, slowing down the pace of his cock inside your cunt. Your ass is tight but you take a deep breath, follow his advice, and soon your whole digit sinks into your asshole.
“Yeahhh. Good little slut,” you hear Joel and smile, your cheek pressed to the bed.
Your loud moans fill the room when you begin moving your middle finger at the same speed that Tommy picks up, fucking your pussy.
“Angel, add another one, c’mon,” Joel grunts. “Tommy, faster.”
Joel is directing his brother, who’s fucking his ex stepdaughter. Your juices are sliding down your inner thighs, your eyes roll back while your asshole is getting filled with two fingers. Tommy begins rutting his manhood into your cunt relentlessly, chasing his orgasm, while you are self-fucking your ass.
“Like that, open up that tight hole, angel. Get it nice and ready for your uncle’s fat cock. What a good little slut for us.”
Both of your holes clench hard at his words and it sends Tommy over the precipice.
“Oh yeahhh,” he moans and starts spilling his hot cum into your pussy. The warmth of his load and the squirts, hitting your walls, make you explode on his cock and your fingers. You scream and whimper, while your pussy is getting flooded with Tommy’s thick seed, and your asshole is clamping tight around your fingers.
Tommy finishes emptying his balls into your pulsating cunt and pulls out as your fingers leave your asshole too. You both collapse on the bed, panting and smiling at each other.
“Guess my work there ‘s done. Bye, lovebirds,” you hear Joel’s voice, coming from the phone, lost somewhere in the sheets.
“Wait, wait!” You hastily search for it and when you succeed, ask Joel, your eyes glinting with mischief,
“Are you hard right now, uncle Joel?”
The older brother narrows his eyes at you.
“What d’ you think, angel? I jus’ watched you fuck your own ass like a cock hungry slut.”
You smile proudly, imagining his huge bulge, straining his jeans all because of you.
“Have a nice jerk off session, uncle,” you mock but Joel smirks.
“Don’t think so, baby. Gonna go find a nice wet pussy to fuck in the bathroom.”
With that he ends the call and jealousy burns deep in your belly.
As always attentive to your mood, Tommy swiftly scoops you into his arms and holds you close, while you’re nuzzling his neck.
For a few minutes you two are lying in silence. Tommy’s heartbeat soothes you, floods your soul with affection for the man but you sigh, feeling a pang in your heart that Joel isn’t here.
“He really wanted to come, sweetheart,” Tommy says, as if having read your mind.
You hum, faking indifference, but your heart feels lighter and you tilt your head up to kiss his soft lips and mumble, “I love you, daddy.”
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💖
Part 6 | SERIES MASTERLIST I MASTERLIST
Tag list for the series: @milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquentdreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury
Tommy tag @huskyfox5
General tag list:@milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk
If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!💕
#pedro pascal#joel miller#tommy miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#pedro pascal characters#tommy miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel x reader#tommy miller x you#tommy miller tlou#the last of us#joel the last of us#tommy the last of us#bad blood series#dark joel miller#joel miller tlou#tlou
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so, like, my horny steve thot is almost always the same: i just love the idea of his cock being sooo uncommonly long and girthy that he has to take his sweet time getting you ready and even tho he makes you cum on four fingers and his tongue twice, he still can only fit about half of his cock inside you before you’re crying (crying for more? crying for less? you don’t even know … you’re crying for more probably) :(((( hehe
I know this is way more than a Steve thot, but I do hope you like it anyways? Hehe, thanks so much for sending it in, my dear Cece! I tweaked it a little bit ;)
Note: My vaginismus having ass could not take Steve’s monster very easily (if at all), but this is nice to think about. And I felt like having trouble, even with prep from four fingers (my god, I struggle with sometimes one and definitely two) — is relatable af!
Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW, touches on sub space a little bit, mentions oral sex, handjobs, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, and the reader has a hard time taking Steve, so there’s significant pain. I think that about covers it?
Sometimes you felt as if you were floating. Higher than the tallest cliff hanging off the quarry, rocks jagged and waters a deep, enriching blue, rippling in velvet serenity. Your particles could be scattered to the Midwest winds and you’d have yet to realize, halfway through time — maybe even space…? It happens more and more frequently now, tonight is no different.
You shift, one jut of your knee that slides into a slippery sloping press, his wiry leg hairs tickling your calf. He moves, widening your right thigh, your ankle sliding across your rose colored bed sheets, and back behind his slender form, where he’s kneeling in front of you. An electric heat flows so hot between your legs that the cool air rushing in hurts. You fist your own fingers into your air, massaging, tugging, neck stretching to expose the delicate tendons that run up your throat — ones he’s littered in his claims. God if he could suck them raw, nip the sore flesh into his teeth, enough that you whimper again, opening yourself just the way he needs you to…
Your arm is still thrown above your head, the outline of your forearm pressing into your pillow, your kiss-swollen lips shiny with spit and dormant pleas that he’d heard not long ago. He’s tried to say a few words, even used his palm to push down on your abdomen, still four knuckles deep into your soaking wet pussy. It’s to no avail, your eyes completely glassy, lash line soaked, gaze fucked over and reaching outer limits — a place he can only imagine what’s it like (from your perspective, anyways). He knows this path you go head first into. The books and magazines he had read a long time ago in his High School days mentioned how sex is obviously different for girls, how they can experience things more intensely sometimes.
But nothing could’ve prepared him for this. The very first time it happened coincided with a two hour long foreplay. Steve remembers it like the back of a Farrah Fawcet spray canister. He was prepping you to take him — all nerves and mangled, panting breaths. One finger and his mouth on your neck, two found his lips sucking underneath your jaw line and crooking against that spot just right, three had you stifling whimpers into his neck and riding his splayed palm that stayed drenched, and four… Well, four was an unremarkable set of attempts that took up the better part of the second hour.
You’d done it with Steve’s patience, his languid coaxing. And when you had berated yourself for being unable to take it much past the tip of the fourth, he’d slid between your legs and lifted them apart, his tongue finding your creamy opening and helping himself. You lost count on how many fuses he’d lit and caused to explode, only touching your senses upon hearing Steve hiss out a yes when his fourth finger easily joined the other three. It took a few minutes with him talking to you, high on a raspy ease, a delicious chorus of praises pouring off his lips — then you were back. Some sort of transitioning space, Robin had told him when he couldn’t help but to ask, wondering if it was too much for you.
And that fed into Steve’s addiction to satiate his hunger for seeing you in such an uncaring, completely melted state. All because of him.
He grabs your chin with a calloused thumb and pointer finger, pinching to tilt, your lips catching his and separating in an easy smack. His nose tucks into your cheek, another glide of his mouth, four fingers turning back into three and a stretch, and you inhale sharply — everything coming back into focus. Your breath is winded, bosom heaving and nipples dragging across his tufts of chest hair. He’s so fucking warm, his freckle splattered skin stained red with flush, his aftershave sinking into the corners of your mouth, stubble tickling your chin, and inky pupils littered with cinnamon rings. His brows pinch together, pearly white teeth grinning lazily as he presses another kiss to your mouth the moment that you sigh into a shared breath.
“Welcome back, baby.”
His free hand reaches for your forearm above your head, fingers sliding along damp and salty skin, tickling across your palm and lacing with your own digits — squeezing.
“Mhm. Stevie…” His thick fingers buried in that scorching mess between your thighs is suddenly on the forefront. Holy shit he’d gone to town on you. The evidence has slicked down your ass and onto the bed sheets, that’s no secret.
“I tap out again for a second? Fuck, you’re so good.” You coo at him, enjoying how his eyes light up in a mirth unmatched.
He hooks your right leg around his lower waist, leaving the other lowered to where you’ve got it propped. His eyes find yours and he drinks you in as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, both of you letting out a choked moan. His thumb pad caresses your clit, his digits smacking your cunt and scattering some arousal. You jump, toes curling, digging into his waistline.
“Shit, honey, let me taste you first.” He’s teasing, smirking that Steve Harrington smirk, popping his sopping fingers into that plush mouth, making a real diabolical show of it.
You practically chase his touch, eager to sample yourself — whatever he’ll let you have. He wiggles his shiny fingertips and barely touches your bottom lip, teasing you, making you raise up — the action causing his very prominent erection to nudge your folds. You jump a little, that instinctual preparation that promises a very defining pain — working its way to the forefront. Steve shakes his head and swipes his fingers across your mouth, planting them on your hip to massage in soothing circles. You’re so fucking wet that you’ve already soaked him, and that makes holding back from taking what he wants that much harder.
“Easy, okay? Haven’t even tried to put it in yet. You know I’ll always ask you before I do, right?”
You nod, breathing in a few self-comforting breaths. It’s not that you’re terrified of the pain. Hell, your little kinky ass indulges in it most of the time, but there’s also that percentage that is nervous, that worries about how much it usually does hurt, (despite many orgasms and lubrication), or if you won’t be able to take him at all this time. His walnut strands tickle your cheek as he descends to nuzzle your nose with his own, reassuring hand still on your hip.
“You want it like this tonight?”
You nearly combust on the spot, body bowing to a magnetizing nostalgia of various positions he’d fucked you in; nice and deep, or ever-so-slow and fucking filthily. You can almost taste his sweat from thrusts he’s yet to initiate, feel the goosebumps pepper your flesh as his silky mane tickles your forehead, maybe even your neck and shoulder (it all depends on which way he has you, really). You aren’t quick enough to draw in your timid answer, starting to slip again, preparing to drift and seek him out. His fingers leave your hip and pull down on your bottom lip, releasing it with a plop as the digits head towards your jaw — strumming a slow scrape. “Babe?” He’s amused, questioning. “How do you want me?”
“I..” And your throat feels like it’s overworked, yet you’ve barely spoken. It drips with elated exhaustion, slowly clambering upright. “Right where you are. Get the stuff, honey.” You flip his nickname for you back onto him, and it has a reaction that crashes into his chest, making it swell in size for you.
He nods immediately, the hand that’s holding yours — leaving, but only to work open the bedside drawer in haste, fumbling clumsily as he decides to capture your bottom lip between his teeth — leaving little love pecks as an after motion. You can barely leave his mouth, his neck straining and flushed bright red, caked in sweat. He rolls back on his haunches, his heavy cock bobbing against his stomach and leaving a connective trail of your slick and his pre-cum to both, your thighs and his.
“Jesus,” he mutters in awe. You’re always so wet for him.
You do shift a little, relaxing your legs around his lower back and connecting your ankles. He has the lube bottle in hand, cracking its lid and wiggling his brows at you. A silent signal not missed, you present your palm and he squeezes out a good amount of gel in, tossing it onto the nightstand beside your head. And fuck, you really wish you had your Polaroid right now, because watching him inhale through clenched teeth, toned waist giving into a bunch, and licking a sharp swipe of his tongue across his lips, the moment that your hand is reaching forward to take him in your grasp — it’s forever seared into your pitiful, Steve-stamped retinas. Screw your pupils, might as well be little Steve’s there instead.
His breath trembles, caressing his tongue, body unprepared as your fingertips tap a tempo up his shaft, barely grazing, before moving back down again. His cock twitches, jumping in your hand, and that’s the moment that you take your chance and wrap your fist around him. He falls forward on hefty palms, fingers splayed beside your head, bunching your sheets in a white knuckled grip. This is one of the parts that you absolutely go to the outer limits for.
He mouths at your jugular, nose pathing up your neck and dragging across your chin until he’s able to kiss you and pant against your lips. “That’s it, baby. Use it however you want to. S’ all yours. Don’t need to be afraid of it. ”
That first sticky contact where he’s finally parting your folds turns you into a babbling mess, a wanton whimper tangled at your tongue’s tip. The fingernail of Steve’s thumb scrapes at your chin, tugging and encouraging your sounds to spill free. When you oblige, he slides that very digit into your mouth and presses, salt, his saliva, and your own musky essence pouring over your taste buds.
“That’s my good girl — shit!” You roll your tongue around his finger and take him down to the knuckle, your fist gliding across his length at an easy rhythm in a simultaneous thievery.
“Monster madness.” You whisper, letting your tongue flick around his thumb, before releasing.
He meets your mouth in a shared grin — all teeth, light laughs. “So I own a monster and a python, huh?” He winds your hair back behind your ear and you know it’s almost time. Your grip on him has loosened a little.
You share a heavy stare, a connection that doesn’t falter, even through one raise of his bushy brows. You watch in a marveling, drool-lathered wonder as the tendons in his wrist flex when his fingers separate, pushing your folds apart. They disconnect with an audible squelch, making you grip him tightly again — squeezing. A diagram-deep groan punches through his esophagus and claws its way from his mouth. “Oh. Fucking do somethin’, honey. Please…”
His voice sounds wet, like a hurricane is rising inside his lungs, battering his insides, and threatening to flood his throat — a desperation that finds an adjoining link within your own desires. As he still holds you open, you bring his purpling tip to your swollen clit, and with a blinking of newly tear stained lashes — you use him. He couldn’t stop it if he tried, another beading escaping him and helping the friction you’ve begun to stimulate you both with. Your knee jerks and he thrusts into your hand, his thick, full balls catching on your ass, your wetness having found a home there too. It’s all too messy to comprehend a clean up. And he doesn’t want to, if he’s being honest.
“Baby, you have the prettiest clit. God it feels so good, you know that? Don’t stop for me.” He’s shaking in his forearms, biceps rattled, muscles caving in. He’s not even inside of you yet and he’s already drenched and throbbing, about to blow his load.
Luckily, you know him as well as he knows you. And you release, quickly lifting your ass in a slight wiggle, legs still locked and now wound around his lower back. You give him one pleading command. “Split me open, Stevie.”
He takes an intoxicating initiative, finding your left hand to hold on tight, fingers leaving your cunt and wrapping around his glistening base, curls matted with your cream. This isn’t gonna last long. “Need more lube, baby?” He checks one last time, your head shaking
You’re fucking warm and soft when he drags his dick through the seam of you, teasing, slapping your inner thigh, your clit, finally teasing his head to that ring of nerves. “Fuck.” His hand lifts on your hand, knuckles smashing into your pillow case, palms held and fitted. You’re relaxed enough that you’re close to sucking him right in, and as soon as the head pops past your opening, he sees your eyes fill with tears. You dig your nails into the top of his hand, scratching, nearly breaking skin. What comes out of your mouth before he can say anything shocks him.
“H-hold on. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”
Steve’s lips find your neck and they suck, bite, licking clean the evidence of a beginning claim. He has to stop himself from fucking you up the bed at this new knowledge. “Oh yeah? Feels that good?”
“Just go slow.” You whimper into a kiss he bestows, tongue greedily slinking into his mouth to take what you want.
He sees what you mean when he presses in a little more and is flooded with a fresh wave of cream, his eyes rolling back and clouding over. And that’s the moment he knows that he has to check in, because you sniffle. There it is.
“Honey? You alright?”
You’re trying to say you are, but it comes out as a broken “mhm” and you lick your lips, eyes focusing on the ceiling, sclera burning. It fucking stings, your body is telling you what it knows — that it’s gonna be too much, that you’ll be sore. But he’s so warm, so heavy inside, and he isn’t even completely there. You try to shove your hips and seek out more, only to be rebuffed. “Baby…” he warns, composure tilting over that precipice, wavering.
And the air changes, your body goes light, and that’s it.
“Come here.” Your hand that’s unheld, is digging into his hair, its soft strands becoming rising waves in the gaps between your fingers, tumbling over yourself to get to his mouth.
His knees help keep him above you, or else he’d collapse. You breathe in deep, releasing it against his lips when you part, your nipples prodding at his slippery flesh. Smashing your nose into his own, he nudges, he shifts, and you’re caught — his thick cock sinking into you. It’s not even half, but you cling to Steve through gasping cries and tear splattered lips, everything aching and throbbing. Your heart is racing so hard that you’re sure your bones are being dusted to ash.
Despite the nearly unbearable fire his size carries, your body welcomes him halfway in without anything else needed. Steve pauses, not just for you, but for himself and the ridiculous choppiness that he can’t even call breathing. He lifts your combined hands and kisses each finger, making you tighten around him and his hips shove forward. You both curse and he apologizes, to no avail. You’ve begun to beg him, and he thinks he might be in his own transitioning space.
“Honey — Baby, hold on, m’ tryna make it better for you.”
“More, I want it all, S-Steve… Don’t stop!”
“But you’re tensing on me —“
“Please, oh god, please — Steve!”
His control vanishes and his closed fist reaches the bottom of your folds as he helps himself push the rest of the way in — in two swift, squelching glides. His tip finds that spot right away, settled like a flesh tight glove, and it sets off a series of sparks, your throat barely able to let out a scream before your release squirts from your cunt and reaches the happy trail scattered around Steve’s navel. Yep, it’s over. He pulls your linked hands up and drapes them by his neck, pumping his hips on one good time, forehead sticking to yours, eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief, and he comes. Your exposed hands that aren’t together, they find one another and match the other two, lacing, pieced just right.
Steve crumbles and collapses on you, your breasts dripping with combined exertion, his pulse racing to stabilize, face burrowing on the swell of your chest. It’s a few silent moments — his cock softening inside you, your cunt brimming with his warm spend, and then he’s looking up at you from his spot. That five o’clock shadow surrounds his mouth, his pupils trying to normalize, and fuck — his own eyes have spilled moisture. Every freckle and mole is visible, his easy grin and silent apology starting, but you brush the hair of his forehead, enjoying his reddened cheeks.
“I love you, honey. Are you okay? Want me to—“ His own voice sounds discombobulated.
“Stay a little while with me, like this? Inside?” Is your airy soft response.
And now, now you think that Steve will be floating over the quarry with you. Particles that fuse together. Of time and space.
// eat me paragraph //
#asks#kink hour#kristenwrites#newlips#my work#my writing#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x y/n smut#steve harrington x female reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x female reader smut#stranger things smut#stranger things one shot#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction
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Miguel O’Hara - Random Horny Thot #2 - Cock Worship
NSFW
----
You are a slave to Miguel’s cock. It’s that simple.
There’s nothing you want more than to be on your knees, shoulders brushing his inner thighs while the delicious musk of his thick cock fills your nostrils. You’re salivating at the scent, bringing your face closer and feeling the soft skin of his still flaccid shaft against your lips.
You can feel the blood rushing through the veins just below the surface; hear the quiet breathy moan that leaves his lips. You dart out your tongue, flattening and gliding it over the length of him. It tastes like…him.
He’s getting harder with every pass of your tongue over the fat head of his (too big) cock. He’s brushing your cheek and telling you how much he loves the hungry look in your eye. He’s hoping that you’ll devour him, bringing his cock deep down your throat until you’re choking and gasping for air.
You do…of course you do. You are a good girl after all, or so he tells you. You’ve got your hands on both of his powerful thighs, holding on for dear life while you breathe in the smell of his pubic hair as it brushes against your nose. You love it. It feels soft and inviting, like you want to keep going in for more…and so you do.
Miguel sounds good, as if he’s never fucked a mouth like yours before. He fills the room with his rough, primal growls like you’d never heard. He thinks it feels good too, your little throat stretching out to make room for his thick cock. You’re crying now, eyes stinging with the tears that ruin the makeup you wore just for him. You know how much he likes making a disaster of your beautiful face, red lipstick streaking along his cock from your lips, mascara staining your cheeks.
“Mm, así cariño,” he says, brushing his thumb over your cheek affectionately.
When you can’t handle it anymore, despite how badly you want to, you’re taking both of your hands and wrapping them around his girth. One hand simply isn’t big enough to fit around him. So you’re stroking along his spit slick length, jerking him and rolling your tongue around the head of his cock. You notice the way his talons are digging into the wood on the arms of the chair.
When he comes it’s a fucking mess. He’s bucking his hips forward and spilling into your mouth, and when you’re so full you can’t take any more, it dribbles down your chin. Even after your mouth is full he’s still coming…and now it’s on your face, in your hair, and later you’ll see that somehow, a little bit got on the wall a few feet behind you.
And because you love his cock so fucking much, you still can’t stop yourself from kissing it while it softens, like you’re thanking it for feeding you, as if it’s your lifeline, because sometimes…that’s how it feels.
——
Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!
Random Blurbs Masterlist
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fan fiction#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara fic#across the spiderverse fanfiction#across the spiderverse#atsv#spiderman across the spiderverse#miguel o’hara drabble#miguel o’hara blurb
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bob is such a pleasure!dom and you’re such a good girl for him !! bob hears Jake’s brat tamer stories all the time and Bobby just thinks to himself “my bunny would never”. because early on in your relationship, you tested bobs limits, and he did punish you for the way you acted, he punished you hard. So when Bobby asked you to”you promise you’ll stay good for daddy, bun’?”, you did hesitate to agree 😚
omgggg yes yes yes dear anon! 🤭😵💫
i love mean dom bob, but pleasure dom bob holds such a special place in my heart. i love being a brat more than anything, but i also love and get so soft (and horny) for thinking about being such a good girl for bobby! his little bunny who never acts up, compliantly does anything he asks and who gets so many rewards! i definitely think he’s a mix of both types of doms and you know when you’re getting mean dom bob, but of course like you say dear anon, once you experienced his hard punishment, you made sure you would always be such a good girl for him.
you were clinging to his leg and sobbing, as he made you ride his shoe with your spanked and puffy pussy. he gripped your chin tightly and forced you to look at him with your glassy eyes. “you promise you’ll stay good for daddy, bun’?”
with a broken sob, you spluttered out, “y—yes, daddy! p—promise! i’ll be y’ good girl, i’ll be y’ bestest girl. i’ll n—never misbehave ‘gain. p—please let me come with y’ f—fingers, d—daddy!”
bob knows that his bunny would never act up on him again because of that experience, and because he knows you’re just such a good girl for him.
oh how i’d love to be his good girl! 🥰 thank you so much for this delicious thot my dear anon! 💌
#💌you’ve got mail#robert bob floyd#sebs masterlist#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x y/n#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x y/n#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd x you#robert floyd x y/n#robert bob floyd smut#bob floyd smut#robert floyd smut#robert bob floyd imagine#robert floyd imagine#bob floyd imagine#robert bob floyd drabble#bob floyd drabble#robert floyd drabble
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I imagine Graves wife waiting for him all anxious and he comes back from deployment and just throwing her on the couch and taking off her clothes like animal. He starts to lick her pussy like starved man and then thrusting his cock so fast into her cunt that both of them fell off the couch landing on the carpet. And he just laughs darkly and puts her legs on his shoulders and thrust so deep that she gets oversteamulated 🥵
*incoherent noises* THANK YOU!!! EATING THIS UP RN 💳💥💳💥💳
Includes; soft (& slightly mean) graves, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), petnames ('pretty', 'baby'), biting & marking, oral (f receiving, mentions of m receiving)
COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌
Come & check out my COD m.list!
It starts off pretty innocent at first when you immediately run up to him as soon as he closes the front door and puts his bags down.
Pressing kisses after kisses anywhere around your face while he has his arms around you. Whispering ‘I miss you’ in your ear when he reaches your jaw.
But then, it escalates.
He’s feeling a little mean, bunching up the rear coverage of your shorts/panties and then pulling them upwards just enough for the material to rub against the crack of your ass, down to your pussy lips, all while he’s kissing you ravenously. You can feel his smirk against your lips when he hears you whimper and whine.
He has you stark naked, leaving as many marks on his pretty wife as possible before hinting to you what’s coming next by taking one of his gloves off with his teeth.
He switches between biting and licking the plush of your thighs while pumping two fingers in and out of your to shoving his tongue into your pussy, the way his nose bumps against your clit sends shivers up your spine.
He will not stop until you cum around his fingers, a little ‘thank you’ to his beloved for waiting for him. Two–three, the thickness has you squealing and gasping, while he coos over your reactions, then lewdly licks his middle finger, enjoying the taste of you with a shameless groan.
Then, comes the real deal.
“Oh, fuck,” He groans loudly, bending forward to attach his lips to yours, tongue and all, while one of his hands slides up to interlace his fingers with yours, “C’mere.”
He forces you on the carpet, pillow readily under you (when did he put it there?) before pulling your legs over his shoulders. He doesn’t shove his cock into you like he did before, not yet, much to your dismay, just slides himself in between your lips. You’re dying to look away as if it’ll stop the wet sounds from your last orgasm, but you know he’ll just force your chin back, maybe even slide his fingers into your beautiful, kissable lips.
He teases you further by staring into your eyes with his gaze—dark and half-lidded, feeling the same smirk before against your skin when he turns his head a little to leave kisses along your leg. You may think his resolve is much better than yours, but the way he grips your legs and hips tells you otherwise.
“‘Miss my baby,” He murmurs against you, almost babbling to his own when he has his eyes closed—a result of being pussydrunk. To feel the delicious grip of his wife around him after months of being away, almost acting like a celibate when in reality, he prefers to have you than just his own hands, but a man’s gotta make do —he’s taken care of himself countless times while he was in deployment, imagining your hands in place of his; delicately kissing and licking up and down his thick cock while being forced to maintain eye contact, just how he likes it because he knows it has you soaked, "M'pretty lil' baby."
His animalistic pace has your eyes rolling, saliva dripping down the side of your lips, toes curling—just how he likes it. Oh, how he’s dreamt of this the whole time he was away.
But if you think you’re done, oh, sweetheart, you are in for a night.
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#— reve's reverie 🌹#— reve's asks 🌹#eyes locked hands locked series#phillip graves x reader#phillip graves x you#phillip graves x f!reader#phillip graves#graves x you#graves x reader#graves x f!reader#commander graves x reader#commander graves x you#cod graves#cod#call of duty#cod x reader#cod mwiii#cod mwii#cod mw#cod mw2
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Suddenly got hit by the thought of Leto taking his sweet time eating his cum out of you after fucking you over and over for hours…
Um. Excuse me? Ok. Um. Help?! Like. My God. Um. Yes?!
(Thank you for this delicious thot, Erika, and please accept this hastily scrawled offering in return for your kindness in sharing this 😝🧡 Also sorry for typos or incoherence. Wrote this in a haze and I’m about to go to bed so no time to proof!)
P.s. I’m keen to write more for the Duke atm so anyone (18+ ofc) feel free to hit me up with requests 🧡
Word count: 1.1k ish
Warnings: SMUT: oral, cum-eating (lots) 18+ only, Minors DNI
Plenty: (Duke Leto Atreides x fem!reader)
You’re sure his tongue is tracing the shape of the Caladan coastline as it shivers through your folds, pleasure blooming through your core like the surge of waves into your deepest coves.
You cry out, clamping your own hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, the sound digressing to something muffled against the palm of your hand.
You feel Leto chuckle warmly against your cunt, before sucking a puckered kiss over your clit. “What is the use of a palace so grand as this if my concubine cannot make noise, hmm? Who is it that will hear you, all this way from the halls?”
“The guards, perhaps.”
“Let them hear you.”
Your breaths grow ragged as he works at your folds with his tongue. “I think they have already heard plenty from me for today, my Lord.” Leto knows well how to please you. Perhaps he does not care as to who knows it.
“There’s no such thing as ‘plenty’ when it involves you, my dove.”
He must believe that, for all day he has not tired of you. All day he has bred you, filling you over and over with his seed until you were full of him. Until, when he shoved inside of you with his throbbing cock, his own release was forced out around him, coating your thighs, his balls, his abdomen, the silken sheets - both your writhing bodies.
And, now that you have finally drained him dry, he settles himself over your sensitive cunt, his tongue laving the apex of your thighs, licking up his own spend.
He huffs his warm breath against your folds again as he adjusts, settling his head more squarely between your thighs. Your legs are folded back towards your chest by the firm press of his warm, broad palms, your Duke laid out on his front - in an undignified manner, quite unbefitting a man of his position.
You take pride in it. In him. At stately functions you have gossiped with other concubines - or, rather, have allowed them to gossip in your presence, as that would be unbecoming of your position. You’ve heard them tell that their Lords are more than content for their concubines to sink to their knees in service, but that the equivalent act is never bestowed in their favour.
And then, there’s your beautiful Leto.
You could count out whole calendar months against the time he’s spent between your thighs, and you know you are endlessly lucky to be at his service, when he gives you so much in return.
Indeed, you moan as his tongue probes greedily at your sensitive, fucked-open entrance, humming as his lips and beard glide over the mess he’s made of you. “Leto,” you gasp, as you realise he must mean to suck you clean of him.
He hums and you hear him swallow, the idea of him tasting himself sending a wild, throbbing want to your over-worked clit.
You throw your head back on to the propped stack of pillows he’d arranged you on when, moments ago, you had grown limp and boneless through your earth-shaking release. Your body positioned so that his seed must be gradually eking out of you, you now realise; taking a slow, honeyed surge down to his wanting lips.
You lick your own lips, imagining the moreish salt-tang of him, and once again pleasure crests as his tongue shivers through your folds. His ministrations dance over you in a gentle, teasing pattern; then, he flattens his tongue, licking a hot, greedy stripe along the full length of your throbbing slit.
Even the air is full of sex, just like you are, the room salted like the sea, a rousing musk which fills your lungs and makes you think of home.
You whimper, clamping your hands either side of his head, twisting your fingers into the regal, grizzled waves which undulate between the slack grasp of your fingers. You know not whether you mean to pull him closer or to push him away, but in the end you do neither, instead bucking your arousal up and into his mouth, grinding your heat against his beard and chin and nose until he is coated - a mess of your juices and his own seed as though he is the shore now, and you the dragged, liquid tide coursing over his stony face.
Leto does not complain, however. Instead, when you look back down to him his eyes are glinting wickedly - like black stones winking out of rock-pools. He hums into your heat, the sound low and drawn-out; sending vibrations singing through your core and reminding you you are empty of him.
“Leto!” you squeal suddenly as he swirls his tongue against you, flicking and thudding against your clit. Using all the power and finesse in his lips and tongue to stake his compelling argument.
You grow breathless, an impossible pleasure building as he writhes his tongue along your sensitive folds, meticulously cleaning every last drop of him from you.
“Do you like to taste yourself, my Lord?” you ask as a warm heat blooms right through your middle.
“I like to taste how full I made you, my dove. I like to taste how many times I claimed you as my own.”
From his position, you watch crinkles radiate out from around his eyes as he looks up at you - with a wicked amusement at the growing state of you, already a mess and about to become further undone. Then, he resumes his focus, his proud nose nudging against your clit as he sinks back towards your entrance.
The blooming pleasure makes you clamp down on nothing, empty of him, squeezing more of his seed out of you. You feel it trickle out of you, moments before it is met eagerly by Leto’s lips and tongue. You shiver as you feel the pleasant scrape of his drenched, coated beard, flattened to his shapely chin as he laps up every drop.
He grunts, pushing your thighs further back, opening you up to him further, and, as his tongue curls and slides and probes against you just the way you like, you fist your hands into the sheets in desperation. “Leto! My Lord! What do you mean to do to me?” You can barely take it, so overcome with pleasure already. “Do you mean to clean up every drop?!”
He chuckles warmly, a sound only you are ever privy to. He grips your thighs to manoeuvre them downward, settling them either side of his ears for your comfort. Allowing him to twist and to plant a delicate kiss to your inner thigh.
“I plan to keep going until I can only taste you, my love,” he rasps into your skin, and his words cause your eyes to roll skyward once more.
Leto dips his eager mouth towards your cunt once more too, entirely unrelenting.
You interpret that you are going to be here for some time at his service; but that suits you just fine.
When it comes to Leto - and his supple tongue - there’s no such thing as plenty. Never such a thing as enough or too much.
He shoves his tongue inside of you, finally through with his teasing, it appears. Indeed, the benevolent Duke finally grants you a consistent pace and motion, carrying you forcefully skyward as your pleasure lifts - like a hawk tossed aloft by the graze of the wind under its wings.
And, this time, when you come undone, you do make enough noise to befit a palace of this size.
In fact, by the time your Duke is done with you - which won’t be for some time - they may even have heard your gracious, lilting moans from all the way down in the halls.
#duke leto atreides#duke leto x reader#duke leto atreides x reader#leto atreides x reader#Oscar Isaac
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My queen! May I humbly request to you a dialog burned into my skull for hunter ? I know you have a promt list but I have thought of hunter saying these lines ever since they came to me (I hope u don't mind a suggestion that's not on a list🖤🖤🖤)
"Do you have any idea how intoxicating you are to me? Do you even know what you Do me? How much you drive me wild?"
"Oh I think you do. Oh mesh'la, If I didnt know any better I'd think you like driving me crazy"
-I've had no thoughts other than hunter and his God damn inhanced senses and that scent kink 🙈 Nonthing but sinful smutty thoughts
Ofc my queen, you can go for whatever context you think fits. ☺️🖤🖤🖤
Essence
Summary: Your scent drives Hunter wild and his desire for you has been building. He’s been able to hold it together until a new scent from you pushes him to the brink.
Pairing: Hunter x Jedi Fem!Reader
WC: 4700 whoops
Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Scent kink, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it yo), cunnilingus, cum eating, praise, Hunter being a horny beast. Takes place during TCW. Reader is a Jedi for fun, not really described.
A/N: Let me tell you, I have no THOTS other than Hunter and his senses either! Thank you so much for this request…this dialogue is DELICIOUS and you sent me down a rabbit hole. I do not mind at all! I got a bit carried away, but I hope this is what you envisioned! This is what I humbly offer in return! Enjoy~
Ever since you introduced yourself to him all those weeks ago, Hunter has been captivated.
Whenever his mind was idle his thoughts drifted to you, the ghost of your scent always teasing his senses. He both wished he could be near and as far away as possible from you, your entire being taunting him whether you knew it or not.
It wasn’t just your beauty that beguiled him or your skill on the battlefield, it was your alluring and downright intoxicating fragrance that overtook his senses any time you were near.
Hunter was used to people’s smells, it was the downside of being genetically enhanced to notice such things. He often found other’s natural scents overpowering, learning to ignore them quickly.
But you, you were something else.
Per the Jedi Council’s request, you were assigned to Clone Force 99 to assist with a few delicate retrieval missions and had been given orders to train with them in the weeks leading up to the assignments.
His brothers grumbled, not liking having a Jedi on the team, even temporarily, thinking it was some sort of insult and insinuating they couldn’t handle themselves.
Hunter was skeptical too, but ever since first meeting you on a landing platform on Coruscant, your natural perfume ignited his senses like a newly formed star.
During missions, he could ignore it long enough to be successful and keep his mind clear.
But when you were training, or on The Marauder, or just catching him in the halls of Kamino to say hi, he was tormented, and ached in silence.
You had just returned to Coruscant, having completed a mission successfully. You were back at the main GAR Headquarters and Master Kenobi wanted a debrief from you and Hunter. The war was picking up, and more and more Jedi and clones were needed in the coming battles.
Hunter was trying to clear his head before the meeting. He was stuck on The Marauder with you for a few rotations and his body was buzzing with need, his mind cloudy and spinning. He wanted so desperately to explore your body inch by inch, peel back your Jedi robes and become completely lost in you.
It was all he could think about.
Every night, even when you weren’t near, he dreamt of the sounds you’d make as he took you apart and pieced you back together, how your curves would feel under his palms, desperate to be between your legs and drink at your source. Every morning he’d wake uncomfortably hard, hoping his hand would help him forget, but it only provided temporary relief.
Hunter was almost glad your time with them was nearing an end, not knowing how long he could suffer like this.
Hunter had another problem, and it also had to do with you. He had been avoiding you the entire trip back to Coruscant and practically ran off The Marauder when you landed.
He knew you noticed, and figured you assumed he was angry at you. He watched as your face fell when you asked if he wanted to join you after the mission debrief for a drink, to celebrate the mission success.
Hunter mumbled he was busy, not even looking you in the eye.
How could he when he was seconds from wanting to taste your lips and fuck you senseless?
Hunter stood outside the door to the debriefing room, knowing you’d be in there. It was probably for the best if you thought he hated you.
It wasn’t like you’d be able to be with him, anyway.
You were standing in the conference room, knowing Hunter was going to walk in any minute.
You were trying to figure out Hunter’s increasingly strange behavior toward you, not knowing if you did something to upset him, or if something else was bothering him.
The mission was a success, no losses were sustained, and you and Clone Force 99 worked well with one another, so that couldn’t be it.
Your heart sank a little, thinking maybe he figured out your feelings toward him. He did have heightened senses, maybe he noticed something, and you weren’t as subtle as you hoped? You were trying your best to keep everything strictly professional, the mission always coming first.
You couldn’t deny your growing feelings toward the broody Sargeant though, his smokey voice, curly locks, broad shoulders, and thin waist just begging for you to grab on to. Those exact fantasies were going through your head just a few moments ago when you were in your quarters.
You meant to take a nap and rest, but your mind wandered along with your hand under your panties. You didn’t mean to think about Hunter, but it was his face that was between your thighs in the dream, his deep voice whispering praises as he entangled his body with yours.
The chirp of your commlink interrupted your “nap,” alerting you that the debrief was starting earlier than expected. Begrudgingly, you dressed and headed to the meeting, not satisfied and a little more frustrated than before.
Hunter entered the room, and his nerves were immediately on fire. You were chatting with another clone, a Commander from another unit.
You glanced at him, nodded, and went back to speaking with him.
A new odor from you was assaulting his senses that wasn’t your usual exilarating aroma, this was different.
Very different.
It was arousal.
Hunter bristled, fighting the sudden and intense urge to rip his clothes off and yours, taking you right then and there in front of everybody.
It was hard enough to ignore your usual natural perfume, but this was almost cataclysmic.
Obi-Wan’s hologram popped up, exchanging short courtesies with everyone, before diving into the topic at hand.
Hunter was barely paying attention, voices fading as he tried to hold himself together.
Why would you smell like sex?
Hunter scanned the room, looking at the troopers and other Jedi that were listening to the debrief from Obi-Wan.
Was it one of them?
Jealousy stabbed his chest like a blade, imagining you in the throes of pleasure with a reg between your legs. You can do better than that. He thought bitterly. It could be me if you wanted.
Your demeanor was calm, listening intently to General Kenobi’s report, which was the opposite of what your pheromones were telling him.
The other clones seemed at ease too, and Hunter couldn’t pick up the hint of your arousal on anyone else in the room.
Does that mean…?
If Hunter wasn’t sweating before, he was now.
The image of you laying on your bunk in your quarters, touching your own body, and pleasing yourself was almost too much to handle in this public space.
Jedi were people too, people with needs. And you were taking care of that need right before this meeting.
Hunter glanced in your direction, your body radiating arousal, burning him from the inside out.
You were horny, there was no denying it. Still horny, it seemed, as if your private time before this meeting wasn’t quite enough.
Hunter’s body went into overdrive, picking up your needy pheromones as they wafted to his nose.
Was this purposeful? Did you know what you did to him and were testing him? Some sort of kriffed-up Jedi trial of will?
Hunter clenched and unclenched his fist, praying for this debrief to be over soon, or else he might implode, a beast clawing its way out that he wasn’t sure he could contain for much longer.
Who were you thinking of while you writhed under your hand?
The image of some shiny reg popped into his head again, or that Commander you were just speaking to, the sharp blade of jealousy threatening to split him open.
He wanted you, all of you. The thought of anyone else made his blood boil, though he knew he had no stake in you. No one did. You were a Jedi.
After what seemed like hours, the meeting ended, and General Kenobi signed off.
Hunter had to get out of here, get away from you before he did something he regretted.
He wanted to pull you into the nearest supply closet and give you what your body needed. But did you even want him? Could you feel the same way, if things were different?
Hunter knew the Jedi had their codes, their honor. He didn’t want to put you in a position of temptation or disgrace.
Hunter barely heard you call his name, trying to get his attention as he quickly strode out of the mission room, needing to be alone, needing to get away from you. Once again, he was running away from you.
You were aware of Hunter’s strange behavior throughout the meeting. He almost looked ill, sweating and fidgeting, the muscles in his neck tense and his jaw set tight.
There was definitely something wrong with him. He raced off The Marauder, and now he’s avoiding you again like you were made of bantha dung.
You frowned, your patience thin.
You had to know what was going on.
You left the room, scanning the hallway to see which way he went. You caught a glimpse of his armor and red bandana turning a corner some ways down the hall, and you jogged trying to catch up with him, calling his name.
“Hunter! Wait!
Hunter didn’t look back, increasing his pace. His head was throbbing, his codpiece uncomfortably tight, trying to get you out of his head. It didn’t help that you were chasing him down the hall.
Hunter took a quick turn down another hallway, opening the first door that he saw. It was an empty training room, with floor mats and other exercise equipment scattered about the room. The door hissed closed behind him, hoping he had lost you.
He wasn’t fast enough, it seemed, as you slammed the button to open the door, stepping in.
“Hunter, what the kriff is going on?” He could tell you were mad, your lips pursed tight and a flash in your eyes that told him you were here for answers.
Hunter was balling his fists again, not wanting to put you in a situation that made you uncomfortable, hoping he could come up with something to ease the situation.
“Nothing, I just needed some air.”
You glowered, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Hunter, you’ve been avoiding me like I have the plague…did I do something to upset you? If so, let me apologize. You’re acting strange!”
“You didn’t upset me.” Hunter’s response was quick. “It’s just…”
“Just what?”
Hunter took in a deep breath. He knew you wouldn’t believe any excuse he came up with. You weren’t stupid.
“You.” Hunter grumbled, unable to look you in the eyes.
“Me?” You questioned. “So it does have to do with me? Hunter, I don’t want to play games!”
Hunter could hear the drop in your voice, not wanting you to think he was angry with you.
“No…it’s something else. My senses…” Hunter scrubbed his face with his hands.
Hunter sighed. “Whatever you were doing before the debrief…..I can still smell it on you.”
“Hunter, what do you-?” You stopped, processing his words.
Hunter stayed silent.
Oh.
Oh.
Heat scorched your face, wanting to become invisible and shrink into nothing. He could smell that?
“Hunter I’m so sorry, I…umm…” You were almost too embarrassed to speak, your anger replaced with mortification, not realizing his senses were that acute.
“Don’t apologize.” Hunter started toward you. “It’s okay, it's just…overwhelming.”
You bit your lip, your face on fire, seeing how disheveled he seemed, but you could tell something was bubbling beneath his surface.
Your Jedi senses were picking up a need, a desire that he was holding back, one that was boiling over, one that has been held down tight for some time that was finally slipping through the cracks.
“I… didn’t have a chance to finish.” You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of your mouth. “I got a comm for the debrief right as uh…I was almost done.”
Hunter stared at you, mouth open.
“What are you saying?” His voice was low, his gaze narrowing.
You boldly lifted a hand and traced it down his armored arm. “I’m saying…I’d let you help me finish what I started earlier. If that would fix things, clear your mind.”
Hunter was speechless momentarily, not believing the words coming out of his Jedi’s mouth.
You were close to him now, closer even than you were in the debriefing room.
“I…I was thinking about you.” You whispered, your fingers still lightly outlining his armor.
Hunter brought his hand to your neck, tracing his fingers up to cup the side of your face, testing the waters.
“Has…my scent been making you feel this way the entire time?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes.
Hunter closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, slowly bringing his forehead to yours.
“Yes. Every waking moment.” He admitted.
The tension that had been building in Hunter, between the two of you, finally snapped.
Hunter pressed his entire body into you, walking you back against the wall of the training room, pinning you. Intense heat radiated from him turning your blood into magma, your hands flying to grasp at the back of his head as his armor dug into you.
Hunter leaned down into your neck, inhaling deeply.
“Do you have any idea how intoxicating you are to me? Do you even know what you do to me?” His tone was a hoarse whisper, like wisps of smoke from a recently doused fire, his hands tracing up your torso over your robes, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Do you realize how much you drive me wild? How often have I thought of you like this?”
It was all out in the open now, there was no point in holding back.
His lips hovered above your pulse point, watching it beat and hearing the blood rushing through your veins.
Your body was engulfed with want, your core aching as you felt Hunter’s breath pant against your neck. “Your body…your smell…you tear me apart at the seams, mesh’la.”
“I didn’t realize…I didn’t think you’d notice-“ you gasped as his lips connected with your neck, his tongue tracing a pattern on your skin, his fingers locked on your waist.
“I think you did. Oh mesh'la, If I didn't know any better I'd think you like driving me crazy.”
Hunter lifted his head from your neck, locking his eyes with yours. His usual honey-brown irises were almost black, pupils blown wide with unbridled lust.
You didn’t realize he felt this way for you for so long and felt a little guilty for unintentionally driving him mad.
“Tell me to stop, and I will.” Hunter gasped, his cock aching in his pants, waiting for your answer, your arousal stronger than before, your body begging to be ravaged.
You swallowed, momentarily wondering if you should stop this before it got too far, but his touch and feral desire for you were too enticing to ignore.
You closed the distance between you, crashing your lips against him. You dug your hands into his hair, kissing with uninhibited abandon, giving him your answer.
He immediately kissed back with equal fervor, loving the sensation of you gently pulling on his hair, causing the burning flame in his chest to ignite hotter and brighter as your mouths greedily danced.
You boldly nibbled at his bottom lip, earning a groan from Hunter as you slid your tongue against his, intensifying the already feral kiss.
You knew this was wrong, against everything, but you didn’t care. The worries of being caught were carelessly thrown to the ground with your robes and his armor, quickly stripping one another, not wanting to waste a single second.
You traced your fingers over his broad, powerful body as he gave you equal attention, running his thumbs over your soft curves, marveling at your figure. “You’re beautiful.” Hunter rasped. “Maker, I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.”
He searched your eyes one more time for any sign of doubt or hesitation.
“I’m flattered, Sarge.” You teased, tracing your hand down his biceps, touching his sculpted muscle under his tanned skin.
Hunter sloppily kissed down your neck and took one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling and teasing, gauging your reaction with every flick of his tongue, quickly learning what you liked.
You gripped his hair again, panting and moaning as he lavished your breast before switching to the other.
“H-Hunter…” you could barely speak, still tugging at his locks which seemed to spur him on further.
“I can smell how much you want me.” Hunter rasped as he slid to his knees, hands caressing your thighs, looking up at you.
“Can I taste you? Give you what your body has been begging for?” You looked down at the man kneeling before you, a dark and hungry look on his face, sweat beading at his brow, his chest heaving.
“I need to know if you taste as good as you do in my dreams.”
You swallowed thickly, a new rush of desire flooding your senses. He's been dreaming about me, like this?
“You’ll have to let me know how it compares.” Your voice was raspy, trying to steady yourself, leaning back against the training room wall.
Hunter smirked as he pressed his nose into your mound, inhaling deeply.
He was finally at the source of what has been eating him alive the last few weeks, and it was intensely satisfying.
“I can’t wait to see if your sounds are as pretty as this pussy. You’re dripping. All for me, hm?”
He brushed his nose against your clit, a jolt of pleasure electrifying your body as a lewd sound escaped your lips, louder than intended.
“Did you like that? Do you want to cum on my face?” He mumbled, nuzzling his nose again against the sensitive nerve.
You whimpered, needing more, so much more.
“Y-yes…please, Hunter. I want to cum in your mouth.”
You were begging now, his stubble scratching against your thighs and his lips gently kissing your labia.
“That’s my girl, I’ll give you what you want for asking so nicely.” He rumbled into your soaking cunt, his cock weeping at the sight and the scent of you.
Hunter wasted no time starting his feast on your pussy, probing his tongue and hungrily lapping at your folds.
He truly was eating you like a man depraved, your nails digging into his scalp. It was intense, better than you could have imagined, better than your hand under your blanket, wishing it was Hunter between your thighs.
Your body shook and you couldn’t hold back the blissed sobs as Hunter gorged himself, his groans increasing in volume as he felt you get closer and closer to your peak, his jaw soaking with your fluid.
Once again, Hunter quickly recognized your subtle reactions and knew exactly where to lick and suck.
His hooked nose pressed and ground against your clit, bliss building quickly, your legs threatening to give out at the sheer intensity of it all.
You were a blubbering mess, words not coherent as Hunter moved his focus solely to your clit, needing you to cum. He flattened his tongue and pressed against your bud, grinding his mouth into you as you reached your peak.
Hunter was barely holding himself together, his hands tightly squeezing your thighs to keep you upright, holding you as you came apart above him.
Hunter let out a feral growl as you came, catching your release on his tongue, loving how your pussy clenched and legs quivered as your orgasm hit you like a ship going into hyperspace.
Your vision went white and anything tangible vacated your mind, letting the ecstasy course through your body.
“Kriff, you’re so beautiful when you cum.” Hunter mumbled into your pussy, still licking and kissing between your folds.
“So much better than my dreams.” You were breathless, coming down from your high, sliding down the wall. Hunter realized your legs were about to give out, wrapped his arms around you, and held you against him.
Your heart was pounding, trying to piece together what just happened, Hunter’s cock rubbing up against your stomach as he kissed you again, as ravenous and desperate as before, his face dripping with your release. It wasn’t enough, though, for either of you.
“Hands and knees.” He demanded between your lips furiously molding together. “Now.”
You immediately complied, any shred of your dignity completely gone. You shakily knelt on the ground on a floor training mat, resting your weight on your elbows, your ass sticking in the air.
You looked back at him over your shoulder, and the look on his face was predatory, dangerous even, his eyes completely black with craving.
Hunter knelt behind you, his chest heaving, rubbing his red cock head through your slick folds. You quivered, your cunt still sensitive from your orgasm.
Hunter slowly nudged against your entrance. “That’s right, relax, mesh’la.”
His breath was ragged, holding back wanting to slam straight into you and fuck you into oblivion.
“There you go, just like that…Kriff you’re so warm.” Hunter’s voice was gravelly, letting out a low hiss as he bottomed out. The stretch was wonderful, being stuffed full of him, his hips meeting your ass.
Seeing you like this, on all fours willing and taking him so effortlessly was almost overloading his system.
He squeezed your waist, giving a few shallow thrusts that practically made his mind melt, feeling your walls clench and take him perfectly.
“Hunter…” You dug your fingernails into the mat, not caring about how desperate you sounded, or how you were exposing your ass to him like an animal in heat.
“Fuck me, please.” You gasped, pushing back against him.
“So needy…” Hunter squeezed your ass, slowly pulling out almost all the way. “You’ll get what you’ve been wanting, mesh’la. Don’t worry.”
Hunter quickly pushed back in, earning a pleasured whine from you. He was deliciously thick, and you could feel his cock head and veins glide against your walls as he picked up his pace, fucking you exactly how you wanted for who knows how long.
“Is this what you wanted?” He grunted, breathless, his broody Sargeant composure crumbling with every thrust deeper inside you, his pace increasing.
“Did you want to be fucked by me? Did you dream about me, too? Did you touch your perfect pussy and think of me?”
You nodded, your eyes half-lidded and your mouth hanging open as he fucked you senseless, your cheek now pressed against the mat.
You knew you would probably have a red mark across your face but you didn’t care, just like you didn’t care how his hands would be leaving bruises on your hips as he pounded into you.
You were thankful these training rooms were soundproof, the obscene slapping of sweaty skin and excessively loud moans hopefully muffled to any passerby.
Hunter groaned at your admission, his calloused hands leaving a trail of fire as they roamed your backside, one hand reaching under you and his finger finding your clit.
“Did you touch yourself just like this right before the meeting? Wishing it was your Sergeant’s cock?”
You nodded into the mat again, tears forming at the sides of your eyes, drool pooling under where your face was pressed into the firm fabric, the sheer intensity of him pulling you apart with every frantic thrust.
“Y-yes Hunter, I wished it was you, I wished it was your cock filling me up…”
Hunter growled, pleased at your answer.
He applied more pressure to your clit, causing you to convulse and shake against him, crying out his name, his cock pounding into you without pause.
“You’re so close, mesh’la, I can feel it. Be a good girl and cum for your Sergeant.”
Hunter leaned down, pressing his abdomen to your back, truly mounting you like an animal, his hips pistoning into you, growling in your ear.
His control was gone. He needed one thing and one thing only, his mind now focused on a singular task, to feel you come apart on his cock, inhale your release, hear your voice shake as you cry out his name and his name only.
Hunter’s hand was rubbing perfect, quick circles on your engorged clit, tears falling down the sides of your cheeks as the coil in your belly was wound tighter and tighter with every movement of his finger.
“H-Hunter I’m so -“ You sobbed, so close to crashing over the edge, his finger relentless against your practically overstimulated bud.
“Cum for me, now.”
Hunter snarled in your ear, needing your orgasm more than you.
“That’s it…let me hear you…” His voice was strained through his clenched jaw, inhaling deeply in the crook of your neck as your walls clenched and trembled around his cock, soaking him as your release rocked your body, every one of his nerves in charged with electricity at the sound and fragrance of your second orgasm.
“So perfect…just like that…”
Hitched sobs of his name were more than enough to bring him excruciatingly close to his own explosive orgasm that was building quickly. “Where?” His hand was still working your clit, shocks of pleasure jolting your body, his hand soaked with your cum.
“Inside…implant.” you gasped, and that was more than enough to unload inside you. Hunter bit into your neck, letting out a final low, guttural moan as his cock swelled and twitched, pulsating his release into your cunt.
Your body was completely wrecked and overstimulated, clenching around his softening cock, feeling his spend leak out of you and onto the mat below.
Hunter’s thrusts slowed, mumbling incoherent words in your ear, your head ringing and blood pounding in your ears.
Hunter slowly pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped from your swollen pussy.
“Gorgeous.” He murmured, not being able to help himself as he grabbed your hips, earning a surprised yelp as he flipped you on your back, yanking your pelvis up.
You were completely blissed, mind hazy, eyelids fluttering, trying to come down from your high.
Hunter couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of you. He wasn’t done yet.
You gasped as Hunter lapped at your folds once more, gently this time, tasting himself mixed with your juices. You let out a choked groan as he softly teased your clit, cleaning you up with his mouth.
“Too much…Hunter…” You could barely speak, watching as he slowly ate you out. Hunter locked his eyes on you, continuing his languid pace, putting your boneless legs over his broad shoulders for better access.
Hunter knew he could get one more out of you. “One more, pretty thing, for me.” He mumbled into your folds, swirling his tongue carefully around your aching clit.
You were grasping at nothing, digging your nails into the mat, your gasping mewls music to Hunter’s ears. His hands carefully caressed where he bruised you, gently suckling on your overworked clit, careful and precise.
Your legs shook as a slow, rolling orgasm washed over your body, sounds unable to leave your mouth, Hunter’s sudden gentleness surprising but welcome.
Your body was covered in sweat, your hair sticking to your forehead and back stuck to the mat, trying to piece yourself together as Hunter removed himself from between your legs, barely registering him kissing you softly, stroking the side of your face, kissing the bite mark on your neck.
You wanted to say something, but the moment was interrupted by Hunter’s commlink chirping in his pile of armor. He cursed, standing up and rifling through his pockets, still buck naked. You sat up on your forearms, trying to figure out how you’d both get out of this room unseen, and what came after.
Hunter grabbed his device, speaking quickly to Tech who was on the receiving end. You didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying, trying to dress yourself and look presentable.
“Tech wants us to run through a simulation of our next assignment.” Hunter handed you your belt as he fixed his blacks, snapping his armor back into place. “But I told him it could wait until tomorrow.”
You raised your eyebrow, trying to fix your hair. “I’m surprised you’re not running away from me again, Sarg.” You teased lightly, not quite sure what to say after your intense coupling.
Hunter chuckled. “I figured we could get that drink.”
You looked at him, a blush forming at your cheeks. “To celebrate a successful mission.” He smirked as he adjusted his viroblade on his arm.
“Agreed.” You answered, touching his arm like you did before, a mischievous flash in your eye.
“Since we are ditching training tonight for a drink, “ You continued, “perhaps we could discuss future strategies in my personal quarters afterwards?”
Hunter’s eyes met yours, the hungry look from before returning.
“Sir yes sir.”
Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @littlemissmanga @secretthegriffin @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @idontgetanysleep @starqueensthings @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @aconstructofamind @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @523rdrebel @dukeoftheblackstar @pb-jellybeans @sleepingsun501 @coraex
#Hunter x reader#Hunter x jedi reader#Hunter tbb#hunter x fem!reader#tbb Hunter#Hunter x you#the bad batch x reader#x reader#Hunter smut#sergeant hunter#the bad batch#the bad batch fanfiction#the clone wars#starrycatwrites
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. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. night short #7
tonight’s night thot is probably one of the filthier ones
hobi who loves a little power play and cum stuffing. he’d make you sit on the floor while he sits on the bed, fully clothed; watching you with a dildo stretching your ass, empty pussy leaking slick onto the floor in slight humiliation as you bounce, shirt tucked under your chin and bra pulled below your tits so he could watch them
hobi would spoil you with sex toys, let you pick out the one you wanted as long as it had a syringe. would have you splayed across the bed as he expertly stretches you out, fingers curling deliciously as he lets you rut against the silicone dildo, slicking it up for him while he stretches you out
he wouldn’t be able to get enough of the thought of you utterly stuffed full of cum— be it fake, or his— he didn’t care. he’d let you circle your hips, let you ride out your own pleasure, tears clinging to your waterline as you beg for him to fill you up. addicted to the feeling of being so full. he’d make sure you’re laid out on your back, watching your pitiful cunt clench around nothing as he pushes down on the syringe, so much lube like cum flooding your ass. he’d make sure you were holding your knees to your chest before he pulls the dildo out, pretty bejewelled butt plug easily slipping into you with how stretched out your ass is, making sure to keep you stuffed full, fingering in whatever slips out of you
only then would he pull his sweats down past his balls, cock red and straining against his stomach as he wraps his fingers around his shaft— making sure you were parting your labia so he could watch your clenching hole dribbling more arousal as he jerks off over your pussy. only dipping the tip of his cock between your walls as he cums; warm seed and accidental nudge of his knuckles against your clit sending you spiralling into your own orgasm.
and then, his cockhead rubbing over your sensitive clit as he smears more of his cum over your slick cunt before pulling your panties up so you stay full of cum as you laze around the house, panties soaking that little bit with his seed when you forget to keep it inside of you, along with the promise of him fucking you if you were good
(thank you @m1sss1mp my love for the inspiration!)
night thots masterlist
#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts smut#bts hoseok#hoseok x reader#hoseok imagine#bts jhope#jhope fanfic#jhope smut#hoseok smut#hoseok fanfic#jhope x reader
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CARO LISTEN I'M THINKING ABOUT MIGUEL OK???
4. “Use your words.”
I have thots but I'm not gonna say them I wanna see what your beautiful brain creates. So excited for you and congrats again on 2k you deserve all the followers and MORE
Beg
Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
Summary: Miguel loves to hear you beg.
Word Count: 1k+
Warnings: Language, smut (obvs) p in v, cream pie, edging? Miguel being kinda mean.
Okay, pure smut for Mel! Thanks for participating and hope you like it <3
MDNI.
...
Miguel was a cruel lover.
He had this power over you, bringing you to the very height of pleasure, only to viciously rip it away from you.
Here’s the thing: Miguel loved to hear you beg.
He loved hearing the panic in your tone, the sheer desperation at losing a delicious orgasm because he had deemed it so. He loved the gravel in your voice when you sobbed in frustration, hissing out his name alongside a string of curses (your favorite one was fuck you, Miguel, to which he’d happily oblige, spearing you mercilessly). It was too much. It was always too much, whether you were bouncing on his cock like a champ or squirming under him, forced to take every agonizing inch of him.
Miguel had you bent over his desk this time, a hand pressing your face flat against the smooth surface while the other kneaded the globe of your ass. He watched his cock stretch you open with lidded eyes, your cunt coating him completely in your creamy white juices.
“You wanna cum?” He grunted, trailing his fingers through your crack, lodging the tip of his thumb into your tight hole. “Ya sabes lo que quiero. Let me hear you say it.”
Yeah, you knew what he wanted.
You were entirely cock drunk, hair a mess from when Miguel had roughly tugged on it, your mouth now stuffed with his thick fingers as you moaned around them. Your hole spasmed around his thumb, fighting against the abrupt intrusion as your cunt simultaneously squeezed his cock.
You moaned at the foreign sensation, drool leaking over his digits and down your chin, dampening whatever paperwork under you he didn’t bother to get rid of when he bent you over.
You wanted to come so badly, feeling your orgasm rearing its head. You were so close, and every jam of his cock against your cervix brought you even closer. You were mewling now, whimpering when Miguel shoved his thumb deeper into your ass, plugging you up completely.
The sensation made your toes curl, you’re muscles tensing as you felt a wave of pleasure surging through your abdomen and—
“Uh uh,” Miguel grunted, pulling out his cock and thumb from your holes in one swift motion, resting his length over the crack of your ass.
“Fuck, Miguel!” You spat his name as soon as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, feeling your cunt clench around nothing, "you fucking asshole!"
You were so fucking close. It was like whiplash, being completely empty all of a sudden. He chuckled, trailing his wet fingers over the side of your face before lifting his hand and cracking it down harshly over your ass cheek.
You yelped, arms stretched out on either side of the desk, hands searching for anything to find purchase.
“Let me hear it.”
You didn’t comply, wiggling your ass in the hopes that it would entice him enough to put his cock back in. It was futile, you knew—you did the same song and dance with him with the same result. He always won.
He gripped you by the hair, pulling you up so that your back pressed against his naked chest.
“Use your words,” He demanded, teasingly rubbing his length through your folds, “be a fucking good girl and use your fucking words, mm?” Your scalp pricked with pain and tears blurred your vision as he muttered into your ear, his warm breath heating your already flushed skin.
“M-Miguel.” You whimpered, your eyes now tightly shut, a sob slipping past your lips at the ache between your legs.
“Beg.” He growled, slapping your cunt a few times, your body trembling in his toned arms.
“Let me fucking cum, please!”
"Good. Keep begging." Miguel never made it easy for you.
"Let me cum, Miguel, let me fucking cum all over your cock," you wailed, tears leaking down your cheeks and nails biting into his thigh, “Please, please, please—”
With a hum of satisfaction, Miguel slipped back in, your soaked core helping him glide to the hilt. You moaned in relief, head thrown back and wet eyes closed to savor the stretch.
“That's all I’m asking for, bebe,” he was cooing now, kissing the side of your face as he fucked you hard, his cock hitting your cervix without missing a beat, “¿Ves lo que pasa cuando escuchas? Just need you to beg for me a little. I’ll give you what you want.”
Miguel pushed you back down against the desk, grabbing your hips and ramming into you unforgivingly, groaning all the while.
You felt it again, the white-hot pleasure that you were yearning for.
“Cum for me,” he mumbled, slamming into you one final time before your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. Your pussy suffocated his cock as you gushed all over him.
“Fuck.” He choked, chasing his own release. His fingers dug into your skin as he pushed himself as deeply as he could, painting your womb with his cum. He panted over you, running a hand down the expanse of your back. “You okay?”
“Mhm." You sighed, letting him caress your skin for a few moments. You hissed when he pulled his cock out from your sensitive cunt, feeling his cum oozing out of you slow and hot as it ran down your inner thigh.
Again, he brought you flushed against him, your body limp in his arms. His fingers immediately slipped between your folds, swirling through both your juices, scooping some of it up, and placing his fingers over your lips.
"Abre," he watched your profile as you obediently open your mouth, lazily lapping at the juices smeared over his fingers, "good girl." You beamed at the praise, turning in his arms and latching your arms around his shoulders, surging forward to kiss him sloppily.
"You wanna go again?" You asked with a tired smile, your sensitive core flaring with arousal at the sight of him: red eyes heavy and hair slicked back with sweat.
Miguel hummed, pretending to consider it before smiling, bearing his fangs, "Only if you beg for me."
...
Ya sabes lo que quiero- you know what I want
¿Ves lo que pasa cuando escuchas?- See what happens when you listen?
Abre- Open
#caro's 2k#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x reader#mel 🌙#atsv#atsv miguel#spiderverse
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you love destroying me with your tags, don’t you? 🤭😵💫
thinking about that deep, bitter and snarling voice in my ear, as he’s pressing on my back to keep me pinned into the mattress!
*this contains smut, 18+ minors do not interact!
hehehehe maybe i do 🤭🙈🧡🧡
but yes god, YES!! Ok you’ve got me thinking about some like nasty hatefucking with Rhett… 😵💫 his weight pressing down on your back, rough hands in a vice grip around your hips that you know will leave bruises in the morning. Those strong bull rider thighs pinning you down flush to the mattress as he fucks you into it hard and fast. The slamming of his hips against your backside relentless, filling you up so good and so deep that your eyes roll back into your skull, tears brimming in them from the delicious mix of pleasure and pain, Rhett’s cock hitting places inside you that have you seeing stars. That deep, angry drawl of his voice, growling straight into your ear as he pounds into you.
“Think ya can take it, bunny?”
His voice mocking as you cry out for him, walls clamping down impossibly tighter around him,
“Fuc-fuckin’ take it.”
ummmm so anyway 😵💫 Rhett makes my voice kink go absolutely crazy and I need him so bad 😵💫🫠 !
thank you so so much for this delicious thot my love, ilysm !!!!! 🥰🧡❤️🧡❤️🧡
#rhett abbott#Seb <3#oh how I’ve missed writing my favorite cowboy#those gifs make me so feral I can’t#i need him to ruin me#outer range#rhett abbott smut#rhett abbott x reader#rhett abbott x you#rhett abbott x female reader#asks <3#kricket answers#my writing#also Seb I just saw your other asks in my inbox and please know I can’t wait to answer them soon hehe <333
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Okay but Rhett wearing lace panties under his wrangler’s when he has to ride. Even better if you mix it with the thot from earlier…and if he cums in them beforehand? 🥴
insp
you were his good luck charm. but so was the pair of electric blue panties that were currently hiding beneath his wranglers. you were the only one that knew he was wearing them, but he still felt so dirty in the most delicious way. there was a time in history when rhett would have balked at the idea of wearing any sort of lingerie. but he had since learned to embrace all sorts of things, thanks to you.
now he was gearing up for his ride with the feeling of the soft lace against his skin, against his cock. it sent a thrill through his bloodstream, and he shuddered. it all felt so slutty. and then there you were, helping him tape his wrist before his ride, but it was so much more than that. you smelled so good, you’d made sure to wear the perfume that he loved, and an outfit that would drive him wild. and, of course, you teased him with your words. “all set, daddy,” you spoke, knowing smile tugging at your lips as you patted his wrist. he gazed down at you, eyes narrowing, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.
“don’t fuckin’ do that,” he groaned softly, even as he leaned in to kiss you. “what?” you asked innocently, tugging on his bottom lip with your teach. he felt as if the oxygen had been punched clear out of his lungs. “i just wanna wish you luck before your ride.” you were kissing him again, languidly, and when his tongue swiped at your mouth, you let it in, sucking on the taste of him. meanwhile, you could feel him, hard against your hip. he subtly moved, but it wasn’t that subtle after all, because you noticed it. but you made no move to stop him, letting him kiss the breath right out of you.
it was the eroticism of it all that did him in. the anticipation of his ride. the thrill of wearing lingerie under his jeans. the taste of you on his tongue. and then you tugged on his hair, and he grunted against your mouth. all at once, you felt it. the stutter of his hips. the throb of his cock. your eyes widened as you broke the kiss to glance down. he’d just come in his pants. “oh my god,” you gasped, a shock of arousal pulsing through your cunt. breathless, rhett let his forehead rest against yours, his eyes closed as his cheeks burned. “s-sorry, i—” but you put your finger to his lips. “don’t fucking apologize. that was so hot,” you assured him, surging forward to kiss him again, desperately.
and oh, what a predicament he found himself in when he realized his riding slot was coming up. “fuck,” he cursed. “made a fuckin’ mess.” but you hummed, shrugging your shoulders as you kissed him once more. “shame. guess you’ll just have to ride with cum in your jeans.” and that was exactly what he did, cock sticky in those pretty blue panties as he mounted that bull. he caught your gaze from his position in the chute, and you grinned, eyes ablaze, body burning at the thought of him having no choice but to ride with cum-slicked jeans. it being a secret that only the two of you knew about made it all the more erotic.
as fate would have it, he placed first that night. perhaps those electric blue panties were a good luck charm, after all.
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Miguel O’Hara - Vampire Edition - Random Horny Thot #1
NSFW - Consensual Non-con - Somno (kinda?)
——
Miguel’s fangs aren’t the result of the spider genetics as you’d originally thought. Not at all. He’s a vampire, it’s that simple, and that complicated all at once.
Your boss pisses you off one day. Never again. Someone hurts your feelings or tries to cause you physical harm? He makes sure their body is never found.
Miguel comes home after an unsatisfying feeding -likely interrupted so he had to discard the body quickly-, lips still coated in blood, eyes dark and hooded from the high. You’ve never seen him like this, in fact, you never talked about where he gets his food, he just…does, and you know better than to question it.
“Need more…need…” he’s growling like a feral creature. His eyes flick to you, sitting in the bed with the blanket pulled up to your chest.
“M-Miguel?” You stammer, eyes wide in terror.
He’s looking at you, pupils dilated and scanning over your body rapidly. He’s breathing so heavy that his broad shoulders are heaving with every inhale. He gets closer to the bed, bearing his teeth so you can see them glint in the faint moonlight through the bedroom window.
You think that by offering yourself to him, crawling to the edge of the bed with your neck exposed for him, it might end better for you, and you are right. He’s not gentle with you though, not that you expect him to be. Not when he’s like this.
He’s got you against the wall within seconds, sharp fangs buried deep into your neck and a hand covering your screaming mouth. You feel the blood coming out, and then you feel his lips over the holes he made, sucking against your skin and draining you.
He’s never been aroused while feeding before, but fuck he loves it when you whimper and cry like this. It reminds him of all the times he’s had his too big cock stuff inside your too small hole. He rids himself of his suit, pressing his erection between your legs hungrily, prodding at the apex of your thighs. You’re Keeping them closed, body tense from the pain of the feeding.
“Let me in honey,” he says in a low, gravely demand. “Fucking open your legs or I’ll open them for you.”
You tremble, doing as he tells you and then suddenly feeling so full of him you can hardly stand it. He looks at your face on the first thrust. His lips and chin are coated so thickly in blood that you gasp sharply through your nostrils, mouth still covered by his large hand…you wonder how you’re still alive.
You don’t even make it to your climax before you’re unconscious in Miguel’s arms, limp while he continues to rut his impossibly fat cock into you at an unrelenting pace. He’s done drinking from you, knowing he’s already taken too much, but it feels too good to stop fucking you.
“It’s okay,” he tells you, despite the fact that you can’t hear him, “you’re okay honey I’m so close. You’re so good to offer your body up to me like this, letting me take what I need.”
When he comes, you don’t feel it, but he’s making the most feral groans and grunts he’s ever made, spilling inside of you like you were a vessel made to take his seed. You’re so perfect, so warm in his arms, and most importantly, you are fucking delicious.
——
Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!
Random Blurbs Masterlist
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel ohara noncon#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse fanfiction#across the spiderverse#spider man: across the spider verse#melodys random thots#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara
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