#the adrenaline rush makes for WILD sex

[franciskirkland-deleted]

François and Arthur are always fighting and making up. Is that foreplay? I need light on this subject because that sounds exhausting.

sometimes it is sometimes arthur is just being a proper british gentleman (domestic abuser coded) their relationship IS exhausting.

[buckets-and-trees]

Okay. But viking!Steven feral AF after a battle and storming into your home and beelining straight for his little bride to get out all of that excess adrenaline 😳🕳️💦

Come Down from Battle

Characters/Pairings: Viking King Steve Rogers x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

Content/Warnings: DARK established relationship - kidnapped wife; explicit smut: rough sex, oral (male receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse, light breastplay, insemination; use of pet name (little wife); dirty talk; implied breeding kink; discussion of producing children

Notes: Takes place 6-8 weeks after So Black the Darkness Hums. And just a little more of my viking research: a kongsgård is a dwelling for a king or magnate, had a great hall, residential quarters, etc, but not as big or grand as a castle.

Additional Note: Why not cold viking King Steven on birthday eve/the eighth night of my Birthday Jubilee celebration?

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The kongsgård bustles with activity as word spreads of the king's return. You hear the commotion from your chambers - shouts, the clatter of armor, heavy footsteps. Your heart races with fear and anticipation, knowing Steven will soon arrive, and you make your way to the great hall to greet him as all the household is expected to do.

The door bursts open and Steven storms through, still clad in his blood-stained armor. His eyes, wild with the remnants of battle-fury, scan the room until they land on you. Without a word, he strides towards you, ignoring all others, his massive frame radiating power and barely contained energy.

"My little wife," he growls, voice rough from shouting commands. His hands, still gloved in leather, grasp your face as he crushes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. The metallic tang of blood mingles with his familiar taste.

“Come,” he commands, grabbing your arm and pulling you along. You stumble after him before recovering your footing as he drags you through the winding corridors of the Kongsgård, his grip unyielding, undeterred until he has you in your chambers.

Steven slams the heavy wooden door behind you, the sound echoing through the room. His hands are already working at the fastenings of his armor, shedding pieces haphazardly onto the floor. You move to assist him, fingers trembling slightly as you help remove the blood-stained leather and metal.

As the last piece falls away, Steven grabs you again, spinning you around and pressing you against the wall. His body cages you in, hot and solid against your back. You feel his breath, heavy and ragged, against your neck.

"I've thought of nothing but you for days," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "The heat of battle, the clash of steel - none of it compares to the fire you ignite in me."

You shiver at his words, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through you. In the two months since he took you from your village, you've grown accustomed to his rough passion - come to crave it at times - even though you are still tentative of this powerful warrior king. But there's something different in his eyes tonight - a wildness, an intensity that both thrills and terrifies you.

His hands roam your body, rough and possessive, as if relearning every curve and plane. You gasp as he yanks at the laces of your dress, tearing the fabric in his haste to get to your bare skin. The cool air hits your exposed flesh, raising goosebumps across your body.

"Steven," you whisper, your voice trembling. "You're home safe. There's no need to rush-"

He silences you with another bruising kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as his hands continue their frantic exploration of your body. You taste blood on his lips - whether his or an enemy's, you're not sure.

Steven's mouth descends on your neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks. His beard scratches against your sensitive skin as he works his way down to your shoulder. One large hand cups your breast, kneading roughly, while the other snakes down to hike up your skirts.

"I need you," he growls against your skin. "Now."

You hear the rustle of fabric as he frees himself from his breeches. Without warning, he lifts you, pinning you against the wall with his body. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist.

Your breath catches as you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance. Despite your body's automatic response to his touch, you're not fully ready for him. But Steven doesn't wait. With a powerful thrust, he sheathes himself inside you, tearing a cry from your throat.

The stretch burns, a mixture of pain and pleasure that leaves you gasping. Steven doesn't give you time to adjust, setting a brutal pace as he pounds into you against the wall. His hands grip your thighs hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he takes his pleasure.

"Mine," he growls, his voice rough with exertion and possessiveness. "Say it. Tell me you're mine."

"Yours," you gasp, the word torn from your lips as he hits a spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. "I'm yours, Steven."

His pace increases, each thrust driving you higher up the wall. The rough stone scrapes against your back, but you barely notice the pain, overwhelmed by the sensations Steven is wringing from your body. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck, clinging to him as he ravages you.

"That's right," Steven growls, his breath hot against your ear. "Mine. My little bride, my conquest, my queen."

His words send a shiver through you. Despite everything, despite the circumstances that brought you here, you can't deny the thrill that runs through you at being claimed so thoroughly by this powerful man. Your body responds to him instinctively, inner walls clenching around his thick length as he pounds into you relentlessly.

Steven's hand snakes between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs since he loves to watch you fall apart for him. His rough fingers circle and press, drawing gasps and moans from your lips. The dual sensations of his cock pounding into you and his skilled fingers on your clit quickly build the tension in your core.

"Come for me, little wife," Steven commands, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Let me feel you come undone around my cock."

Your back arches as waves of pleasure crash over you, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around Steven's thick length. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you shudder in his arms.

Steven groans at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, milking him.

He turns away from the wall and carries you to the bed. Despite your big size, you are nothing but a small and delicate thing to him, giant viking that he is. The physicality, his prowess, it’s more of what makes you weak for him.

Steven tosses you onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly on impact. Before you can catch your breath, he's on you, flipping you onto your stomach and yanking your hips up. You feel his cock, still hard and slick with your juices, pressing against your entrance once more.

"Only getting started, little wife," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

With one powerful thrust, he sheathes himself inside you again. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your oversensitive flesh protesting the renewed assault. Steven sets a punishing pace, his hips snapping against your ass with bruising force. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he takes his pleasure.

"So tight," he grunts, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Always so perfect for me."

One of his hands snakes around to your front, groping your breast before tweaking the nipple, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through your hypersensitive body. You gasp and moan for him.

"That's it," he growls. "Let me hear you, little wife. Let everyone in the Kongsgård know how well your king pleases you."

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you. The thought of others hearing your cries of passion, knowing that you're being thoroughly claimed by your warrior king, is both mortifying and thrilling. Your cheeks burn with shame even as your body responds eagerly to Steven's touch.

"Tell me how it feels," Steven demands, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."

A whimper escapes your lips as you struggle to form coherent thoughts. "It's... it's so much," you manage to gasp out. "You fill me so completely, my king."

Steven's hand tightens around your neck, yanking your head back. "Not enough," he snarls. "I want to hear how desperately you crave me. How you ache for my touch when I'm gone."

His words send a shiver down your spine. It's true - despite your initial resistance, you've come to crave Steven's touch during his absences. The intensity of his passion, the way he makes your body sing with pleasure - it's intoxicating. And though you try to fight it, to hold onto memories of your old life, you find yourself sinking into this new life.

"I... I think of you constantly when you're gone," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I dream of your hands on my body, of the way you fill me so completely."

Steven's pace quickens at your words, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "As you should." he says, his voice strained with exertion but satisfied and proud.

His hand snakes around to your front again, fingers finding your sensitive bud. He circles it roughly, drawing gasps and moans from your lips. The dual sensations of his thick cock pounding into you and his skilled fingers on your clit quickly rebuild the tension in your core.

"Come for me again, little wife," Steven commands. "Show me how much you've missed your king's touch."

Your body obeys, trembling and clenching around him as another orgasm crashes over you. You cry out his name, your fingers grasping desperately at the furs beneath you. Steven groans at the feeling of your inner walls pulsing around him, his thrusts becoming erratic.

With a final thrust, Steven buries himself deep inside you, his body tensing as he reaches his own release. You feel the hot rush of his seed filling you, and a small part of you wonders if this time it will take root. The thought sends a confusing mix of emotions through you - worry, excitement, resignation.

Steven collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the furs. For a moment, the only sound in the room is your mingled panting as you both struggle to catch your breath. His body is slick with sweat, the scent of battle and sex heavy in the air.

Slowly, Steven rolls to the side, pulling you with him so that your back is pressed against his chest. His arm drapes possessively over your waist, holding you close. You can feel his heartbeat thundering against your back, gradually slowing to a steadier rhythm.

"My little wife,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “greatest conquest and treasure.”

Steven's arm tightens around your waist, his calloused hand splaying possessively across your stomach. His touch is not gentle or loving, but claiming - a reminder that you belong to him now, body and soul. You feel the scratch of his beard against your shoulder as he speaks, his voice low and commanding.

"You've done well, little wife," he says, his tone more satisfied than affectionate. "You're learning to please your king."

His words send a shiver down your spine - a mix of pride and shame that you've come to associate with his praise. You hate yourself for craving his approval, for the way your body responds so eagerly to his touch. But you can't deny the thrill that runs through you at his words.

Steven's hand moves up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over the nipple. "Soon, you'll give me strong sons," he says, his tone matter-of-fact. "They'll be fierce warriors, like their father. And perhaps a daughter or two, to cement alliances with other clans.”

His words send a chill through you. You imagine a child with Steven's fierce blue eyes and blonde hair, and something stirs in your chest.

"And what of me?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "What am I to you, beyond a vessel for your heirs?"

Steven is silent for a long moment, his hand stilling on your breast. When he speaks, his voice is low and intense. "You are my conquest, my prize," he says. "But you are also my queen. I will defend you and keep you by my side. Your loyalty and devotion will please me greatly."

His words are possessive, but there's an undercurrent of something else - perhaps not quite affection, but a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart race. You feel both comforted and conflicted by his declaration.

Steven's hand resumes its exploration of your body, rough calluses scraping against your sensitive skin. "And in return," he continues, his voice a low rumble against your ear, "you will give me your obedience, your body, and your heart."

You shiver at his words, knowing that he already has more of your heart than you'd like to admit. The life you left behind feels like a distant dream now, fading more with each passing day.

"Yes, my king," you whisper, your voice trembling.

Steven's hand moves to cup your face, turning you to look at him.

"You've pleased me greatly, little wife," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your lower lip. "Perhaps more than I expected when I claimed you."

His words send a flutter through your chest, a warmth you try to suppress. You know you shouldn't crave his approval, shouldn't feel this surge of pride at pleasing him. But you can't help the way your body responds to his touch, the way your heart races at his praise.

Steven leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that's surprisingly soft compared to his earlier ferocity. His beard scratches against your skin as he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive thoroughness.

When he pulls away, Steven's eyes darken with renewed desire as he regards you. Without a word, he sits up against the headboard, his muscular frame on full display. His hand cups your cheek, guiding you down his body with gentle but insistent pressure.

You know what he wants without him having to speak. Your heart races as you move lower, trailing kisses down his chest and abdomen. His skin is hot beneath your lips, marred here and there with scars from countless battles. You trace one long scar with your tongue, feeling Steven's muscles tense at the sensation.

When you reach his cock, already half-hard again, you hesitate for just a moment. Steven's hand moves to the back of your neck, urging you on. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his considerable girth.

Steven groans, a deep rumble that you feel as much as hear. His hand tightens at your nape as you take him deeper, guiding your movements. You hollow your cheeks, sucking as you bob your head up and down his length. His cock swells and hardens fully in your mouth, stretching your jaw.

"That's it, little wife," Steven growls, his voice thick with pleasure. "Show your king how much you truly missed him."

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[ch0llies]

ROCK ME | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

oneshot - sunshine!reader x goldenboy!chris

Your relationship with Chris Sturniolo is the epitome of a first teenage love. It’s late night drives with the music too loud, whispered secrets under the covers, and sneaking into each other's houses just to fall asleep wrapped up in each other. It’s the kind of love that feels like summer. It’s warm, wild, and infinite. But with him, it’s not just a season. It’s all year round.

story warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial (if you squint), fluff, established relationship, etc. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!

word count: 10k (sorry)

The wind rushes through your beach-waved hair, the summer heat warming your body as laughter bubbles past your lips. The bass from the speakers vibrates through your chest. You’re weightless, golden, and free, just like the setting sun in the sky.

Chris lighty grips the steering wheel with one hand, the other draped lazily over the console between you. His black Ray-Bans sit low on his nose, and he tilts his head slightly, peeking over the frames to catch a glimpse of you.

That signature smirk tugs at his lips- the one that got you hooked in the first place, the one that still makes your stomach flip, the one you could never say no to.

The warm glow of the sun catches on his skin, highlighting the freckles scattered across his nose. He looks so effortlessly beautiful. The kind of boy you’d write songs about. You have no idea how he’s yours.

You’re wearing nothing but an orange string bikini top and a pair of light-wash denim shorts, the fabric rough against your sunburnt skin. Chris isn’t wearing much more. Just pink swim trunks and a backward Somerville High cap, a reminder of your life beyond these summer nights.

But you don’t want to think about that.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you shift onto your knees, climbing onto the center console. Chris barely has a second to react before you’re pushing yourself up and out through the open sunroof, arms spreading wide as the night swallows you whole.

The second your head breaches the top, you scream- loud and free, the sound ripping through the air and blending with the music. The wind hits you harder than you thought, stealing the breath from your lungs, pushing the extra skin on your face back. The sky stretches out above you, painted in deep pinks and oranges.

Chris’s laughter rumbles beneath you, but his grip is firm when he slides a hand up your waist, fingers pressing against the bare skin just above your shorts. “Be careful, baby,” he yells, his voice barely carrying over the wind, but you hear it. You feel it. The warmth of his palm spreads across your skin, grounding you even as you chase the high of the moment.

You tip your head back, hair tangling messily in the wind, letting out another breathless laugh. The music is deafening, the bass pounding through your body, but all you can focus on is the feeling- the reckless, intoxicating freedom of being here, with him, like this. In love.

Chris’s fingers trace slow circles against your side, his grip tightening as if to remind you he’s there. He’s always there. “You’re gonna get yourself killed,” he mutters, but there’s no real frustration in his voice.

You dip your head forward, glancing down at him through strands of hair, your chest rising and falling with the adrenaline still buzzing through you. “At least I’d die happy,” you tease, voice breathless, full of laughter.

Chris shakes his head, lips tugging into a smirk. “Not happening,” he says, his fingers grazing up your ribs, sending a shiver through you despite the summer heat. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The world feels endless up here, with the wind in your hair, the night sky stretching out forever. But nothing compares to the way Chris’s hands feel against your skin- warm, steady, always there.

You don’t have to look down to know he’s watching you, the way he always does. Like he can’t believe you’re real. He really should be looking at the road but you’re not even mad.

Chris is the golden boy of Somerville High. Captain of the lacrosse team, hometown hero, the kind of guy teachers brag about long after he’s left their classrooms. The guy everyone wants to be, wants to know, wants to love. He walks down the halls like he belongs to them, like Somerville itself is stitched into his skin, and maybe it is.

And you?

You’re the sunshine girl. The one who gets along with everyone, who turns strangers into friends with nothing but a smile. The girl who gets good grades without trying too hard, who sings too loud at parties, who dances barefoot in the grass just because she can. You’re golden in a different way- soft and bright, light spilling into every room you walk into.

Maybe that’s why it never made sense. Why people still don’t get it. But you do. You know how it happened.

You know it started long before anyone else had noticed. Before the stolen glances, before the late-night drives, before he whispered your name like a secret he never wanted to share.

It started in eighth grade, when he caught you skipping class to sit in the empty stands of the football field, watching the sky instead of paying attention to anything else. He sat next to you without a word, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You get lost up there too?” he’d asked, nodding toward the clouds.

You’d just smiled, something soft, something easy. “Yeah,” you’d said. “Guess I do.”

It started freshman year, when he saw you crying behind the gym after another boy on the lacrosse team that you had a crush on asked a different girl to hoco. And instead of making some dumb joke, he just sat with you. Shoulder to shoulder, silence stretching between you, solid and safe.

It started sophomore year, at some house party, when the music was too loud and the air was too thick and his eyes…God, his eyes. They were locked on you like you were the only thing worth looking at. You don’t remember who kissed who first. Maybe it was both of you, leaning in at the same time, laughter turning into something else, something breathless.

You do remember the way he groaned against your lips, the way his hands tangled in your hair like he’d been waiting for this for years. The way he lifted you, effortlessly and careless, and pressed you against the wall like he was never going to let you go.

But that was nothing compared to the first time.

Junior year. The backseat of his Jeep, parked down by the beach, the moon high in the sky. Your body still damp from the water, his skin burning hot against yours. He looked at you like he was afraid to blink, like he needed to memorize everything. The curve of your lips, the tilt of your chin, the way your breath hitched when he traced lazy circles on your hip.

“I’ve never-” you’d started, but he kissed the words right out of your mouth, slow and deep and reverent.

“I know,” he murmured, forehead resting against yours. “Me neither.”

Then he was everywhere, hands and lips and warmth and the most intimate parts of him. And you were his, in a way that felt bigger than a single night. In a way that felt like forever.

Now, here you are. The summer before senior year.

You drop back down into your seat, breathless, the rush still buzzing through your veins. Chris doesn’t let go of you, doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed. Instead, he rubs slow circles into your sunburnt skin, his thumb brushing over the edge of your bikini top, something soft in his touch.

You turn your head, watching him as he drives, golden and effortless.

“What?” he asks, side-eyeing you.

You shrug, grinning. “Just thinking about how unfair it is that you’re so pretty.”

Chris snorts, but there’s a blush creeping up his neck. “You’re one to talk, baby.”

Your life is made up of moments like this. Soft, sweet, and beautiful. All because of him.

Like the time he helped you pick your dress for junior year prom.

You’d dragged him to the boutique, standing on the fitting room pedestal while he lounged in one of the chairs, arms crossed over his chest, looking entirely out of place among the frilly pink decor.

“You know I don’t care what you wear, baby,” he’d grumbled, watching as you stepped out in another dress. “You’d look good in anything.”

“You have to care,” you insisted, spinning around so the skirt flared out. “I need honest opinions.”

Chris rolled his eyes, but there was something soft in his gaze as he studied you. Then he stood, walked over, and reached out to tug at the orange fabric, his fingers brushing your exposed back.

“This one,” he said simply, eyes locked on yours in the mirror. “Wear this one.”

And when prom night came, when you stepped out of your house and into the golden glow of the streetlights, Chris just stood there, blinking like he forgot how to breathe.

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me.”

Or the time he came on vacation with your family.

You had spent weeks convincing your parents, listing all the reasons why bringing your boyfriend wouldn’t be an issue.

“He’s basically part of the family already,” you argued.

And maybe that was true, but you were still surprised when they agreed, letting Chris tag along to your beach house rental for a week in July.

It was like a dream. Waking up to the sound of the waves, sneaking out of the room your parents assigned Chris. And especially the mornings you’d both sneak out of the house just before sunrise, Chris pulling you into the water before the world was even awake.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, legs wrapped around his waist as the tide lapped against your skin.

Chris just grinned, his hands holding you tight, safe. “Yeah. insanely in love with you.”

And then, of course, there were the lacrosse games.

You went to every single one, always in the front row, always wearing his number on your cheek in red glitter paint.

Chris had his routine. Right before a game, right before he ran onto the field, he’d find you in the crowd. You’d blow him a kiss, and he’d pretend to catch it, pressing his fingers to his lips like it was some kind of good luck charm.

“You know I have to do that, right?” he’d told you once, breathless after a win, sweat dripping down his temples. “Superstition. Can’t play without it.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, reaching up to push his damp hair out of his eyes. “So you winning is all me, huh?”

Chris grinned, looping his arms around your waist. “Exactly.” Then, without warning, he picked you up, spinning you in circles until you were shrieking with laughter. “You’re my good luck charm, sunshine.”

And then there was that time. The time that haunts you to this day. The time his parents walked in on you.

Chris’s bedroom. His hands in your hair, your nails digging into his shoulders, both of you breathless, caught up in each other, making far too much noise, until the door opened.

You didn’t even have time to react before MaryLou gasped, spinning on her heel so fast she nearly fell over.

“Jesus Christ, Christopher,” was all she said before slamming the door.

Chris just groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. “We’re so dead.”

The next day, he came home to a box of condoms sitting on his bed. No note. Nothing.

He held them up when you walked in, blinking like he was still in shock. “My parents hate me. I don’t know how I can ever look my mother in the eye again.”

You burst into laughter, doubling over on his bed. “I think they just don’t want grandkids yet.”

Chris groaned, tossing the box across the room. “Unbelievable.”

You had laughed then, breathless and teasing, throwing yourself back onto his bed. But that was months ago.

Chris was still driving with one hand on the wheel, the other now resting against your thigh. His fingers trace slow, lazy patterns over your skin, dipping just beneath the frayed edges of your denim shorts. It’s an innocent touch, but your body reacts like it always does. He has completely burned himself into you.

The warmth of his palm seeps into your skin, his thumb brushing back and forth, featherlight, like he’s not even thinking about it. But you know Chris, know the way his mind works, the way his hands move with purpose, even when he pretends they don’t.

You shift slightly in your seat, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to ignore the slow fire building under his touch. Chris notices, of course he notices, and his smirk deepens, barely visible in the dimming light.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asks, voice smooth, teasing.

You roll your eyes, but it doesn’t carry much weight. Not when your pulse is hammering against your ribs, not when the song “Rock Me” playing through the speakers seems to fit too well, like fate decided to soundtrack this exact moment.

You glance at him, and God, he’s so mesmerizing. One hand gripping the wheel, muscles taut beneath sun-kissed skin, his jaw sharp in the golden light. His lips are parted slightly, tongue running over his bottom one like he’s deep in thought.

Like he’s remembering, too.

“Do you remember summer ’09? Wanna go back there every night…”

Chris exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Remember this song?”

Your heart flutters, something deep and wanting. You know what he’s thinking.

You remember that night. It was after a lacrosse game, after driving three hours to the playoff game that he scored the game winning goal in. Somehow, you ended up tangled in his backseat, hands desperate, mouths hungry.

Your voice had been breathless against his ear. “I want you to rock me, Chris.”

And he did. Again and again and again.

The memory makes heat curl in your stomach, makes your breath catch just slightly, and Chris knows. His fingers flex against your thigh, grip tightening just enough to make your skin prickle with anticipation.

You turn to face him fully, shifting so your knee brushes against the gearshift.

“You’re such a tease,” you murmur, eyes locked onto him.

Chris grins, slow and dangerous. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His hand slides just a little higher, not quite enough, but enough.

You suck in a sharp breath, and he laughs, that soft, lazy laugh that always makes your stomach flip.

The song builds, the chorus swelling, wrapping around you both.

“I want you to hit the pedal heavy metal, show me you care…”

Chris leans in slightly, voice dropping lower. “Sing it for me, baby.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to fight the smile threatening to break free. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

He just squeezes your thigh again, dragging his fingers in slow, torturous circles. “And yet, you’re still in love with me.”

And God, you are. Wildly, recklessly, endlessly in love with him.

Chris just grins, the kind that’s all mischief and golden-boy charm, the kind that makes your stomach flip even after all this time. His fingers linger on your thigh, slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You roll your eyes, pushing his hand off playfully, even though you already miss the warmth of his touch. “Pay attention to the road before we crash, golden boy.”

He snorts, but obliges, turning his focus back ahead as the Jeep glides down the quiet summer streets. The sun has nearly disappeared now, the sky shifting from honey-gold to deep navy, the kind of night that feels endless, the kind that makes you believe you’ll never have to grow up.

Then, as if reading your mind, Chris leans back, one hand lazily resting on the wheel, the other drumming against your thigh again. “You hungry?”

Your stomach growls at the mention, making him laugh, and you groan, slumping into the seat. “Shut up.”

Chris shakes his head, reaching for the console to turn down the music. “Nah, this is why I keep you around. You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

You swat at his arm, and he catches your wrist easily, pulling your knuckles to his lips for a quick, teasing kiss.

“McDonald’s?” he suggests, voice light, like he already knows the answer.

Your eyes narrow. “You just want an excuse to get a large fry and make me feed them to you while you drive.”

Chris shrugs, smirking. “And?”

And ten minutes later, you’re sitting in the McDonald’s drive-thru, Chris rattling off the usual order—two large fries, a ten-piece McNugget, a McDouble for him, and a vanilla milkshake for you. It’s routine by now, muscle memory. You don’t even have to ask for extra napkins, because Chris already grabs them, stuffing them in the glove box where he knows you’ll need them later.

The second he pulls out of the parking lot, he’s already reaching into the bag, shoving a fry into his mouth.

“Hey, those are mine,” you scold, reaching over to smack his hand away.

Chris just laughs, shoving another one in his mouth before holding a fry up to your lips, eyebrows raised expectantly. You huff but take a bite anyway.

The drive back is comfortable in the way only summer nights can be. You hum along to the song he had playing on aux, dipping fries into your milkshake, and Chris sneaks sips of it every time you aren’t looking even though you secretly know he does it.

By the time you pull into his driveway, the house is quiet, the lights off except for the faint glow from the kitchen window. His parents are asleep and his brothers probably are too.

Chris shifts into park, then turns to you, smirking. “Wanna come in?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like you have to ask.”

He grins, pushing open his door before jogging around to yours, yanking it open with dramatic flair. “M’lady,” he teases, offering his hand.

You roll your eyes but take it anyway, letting him pull you out before he slams the door shut as quietly as possible. You both make your way to the side of the house, where Chris knows exactly which windows creak, which steps to avoid.

By the time you sneak upstairs and get to his bedroom, Chris is already kicking off his shoes and tossing his hat onto his desk before he goes to his closet and put on a random teeshirt.

You plop onto his bed, stealing a handful of fries from the bag. “You know,” you say between bites, “your parents definitely know we do this.”

Chris flops down beside you, pressing his head into your shoulder dramatically. “Yeah, well, after the whole condom thing, I think they’ve just accepted it.”

You laugh, turning your face into his hair, inhaling the faint scent of saltwater. “You’re never getting over that, huh?”

Chris groans. “I still can’t look my mother in the eye sometimes. It’s so awkward. She definitely saw my dick.”

“She birthed and raised you. She’s already seen you naked.” You laugh.

“Yeah but that’s different!” He exclaims in a whisper, digging his head even further into your shoulder.

You laugh, before setting the food aside and turning toward him fully. He lifts his head from you and his eyes flicker to yours, and for a moment, the teasing fades. The room is dimly lit, the only glow coming from his bedside lamp, casting everything in a soft, golden hue.

He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of your tangled beachy hair behind your ear. “You tired?”

You shake your head, voice softer now. “No.”

Chris nods, thumb grazing the curve of your cheek before he leans in, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your lips. It’s not hurried, not rushed like it so often is. It’s sweet, gentle- like he’s savoring it, savoring you.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“I love you so much, my beautiful girl,” he murmurs.

You smile, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt. “I love you too, baby.”

Chris exhales softly, his breath warm against your lips, his hands never leaving your skin.

His thumb strokes gently over your cheekbone, tracing invisible patterns like he’s memorizing you all over again.

You lean in first this time, tilting your chin just enough to capture his lips again. It’s slow. So slow, like neither of you are in any rush, like you have forever to get lost in each other. His mouth moves with yours effortlessly, no desperation, no urgency. Just warmth. Just love.

Chris sighs into the kiss, pulling you closer, his hands sliding down to your waist, fingers pressing into the soft skin below your bikini.

You shift, pressing yourself closer, and he groans softly in response, deep in his throat. The sound sends a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening around the fabric of his t-shirt.

He feels so good, smells so good, and you could stay here forever, tangled in him.

Chris tilts his head, deepening the kiss just slightly, just enough to make your breath catch. His hand spreads even further across the warm expanse of your back, his touch setting fire to your skin.

You sigh against his lips, melting into him as his other hand skims up your thigh. His fingertips brush along the frayed hem of your shorts, not pushing, just feeling, just reveling in the warmth of you.

When you pull back for air, his lips chase yours, barely letting you breathe before he’s pressing soft, lazy kisses along your jaw, down the curve of your neck.

“Chris,” you whisper, and he hums against your skin, his breath sending goosebumps down your arms.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You don’t answer, just tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans again, a sound that always makes your stomach tighten, makes your thighs squeeze around his hips.

His hands slide to your waist, gripping gently as he guides you into his lap, settling you over him like you belong there- like he’s been waiting for this, for you, all night.

You both pause, foreheads pressed together, chests rising and falling in sync.

His hands are steady on you, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your skin, and when he looks up at you, his eyes are heavy, dark with something deeper than just desire.

Love.

“I jus’ wanna take my time with you,” he murmurs, voice thick, fingers tracing along your spine. “Wanna kiss you slow. Wanna make you feel good.”

Your heart stutters, your body burning with something softer than lust, something heavier than need.

You press another kiss to his lips. Slow and deep and meaningful.

“Then do it.” you whisper against his mouth.

Chris doesn’t need to be told twice.

The moment the words leave your lips, he groans deep and low, something that rumbles through his chest and straight into your core. His hands tighten on your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he tilts his head and devours you.

The softness melts into something new, something desperate and raw as he kisses you harder, mouth parting against yours, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip before slipping inside. It’s slow, but there’s an edge now- a hunger, a need.

His hands slide up your back, slipping beneath your bikini top, his thumbs grazing over your ribs and to the front, right over the softest parts of you. You shudder, pressing closer, gasping when he bites your lip, tugging just enough to make your stomach clench.

“Chris,” you breathe, and he hums before flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion.

His body is heavy over yours, deliciously warm, his hips pressing into you as his lips move down your jaw, down your neck, sucking and kissing until your skin is marked with his touch.

You arch into him, hands gripping at his back, before pulling at the hem of teeshirt. He gets the hint pretty quickly and rips it off before diving right back into you.

“You make me fucking crazy,” he mutters against your skin, lips ghosting over your collarbone before he’s tugging at the strings of your bikini top, undoing them with agonizing slowness.

You shiver, anticipation burning through you as his hands slide beneath the fabric, pushing it aside, palms gliding over your bare skin.

Chris exhales harshly, pulling back just enough to look at you. To really look at you. His pupils are blown, lips swollen from kissing you, his chest rising and falling like he’s trying to keep himself under control.

“Goddamn,” he breathes, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

You don’t get the chance to respond before his mouth is on you again, his head trailing lower, lower, leaving a path of heat down your torso.

Your back arches when his lips brush against your nipples, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly.

“Chris,” you gasp, breathless, already wrecked from just his mouth, his hands, the way he touches you.

He grins against your skin, his hands gripping your hips as he presses a kiss just above the waistband of your shorts.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick, grinning with mischief. “I wanna hear you say it.”

You bite your lip, hips shifting beneath him, your body begging for more, but Chris is waiting, his eyes locked onto yours, watching every reaction, every little movement you make.

So you give him what he wants.

“I want you to rock me,” you whisper.

Chris groans, dropping his forehead against your stomach for half a second, like your words just wrecked him.

Then, he looks up at you, and his expression is nothing but pure, unfiltered lust.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes. “Anything you want.”

Chris’s lips trail lower, leaving a path of heat down your stomach, his breath warm against your skin. His hands are everywhere but they’re so fucking slow and deliberate. His fingers tracing over your hips, brushing the frayed hem of your shorts. His eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and wanting.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging just enough to make your breath catch. “Can I take these off?” he murmurs, voice low, rough with restraint.

You nod, but it’s not enough for him.

“Need you to say it, baby.”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice barely audible, but it’s all he needs.

Chris groans softly, dragging the denim down your legs, the slow feeling of fabric moving against your heated skin making your core wetter. When he finally tosses them aside, his eyes roam over you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip like he can’t believe you’re real.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hands sliding up your thighs, spreading them slightly as he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, then higher, higher.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, breath coming in uneven pants as he moves closer, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

“Baby,” you breathe, and he hums in response, lips brushing against the last piece of fabric between you.

You lift your hips instinctively, silently begging, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “So impatient,” he teases, but his voice is thick, strained and you can tell he’s just as desperate as you.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your bikini bottoms, dragging them down with the same agonizing slowness, his lips following the path they leave behind. When they’re finally gone, when there’s nothing left between you, he just looks at you, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you open for him.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” he murmurs, completely wrecked and full of nothing but love.

A gasp rips from your throat as his mouth moves against you, soft and slow and perfect.

His tongue slides up and down your folds, separating them and pushing his face even deeper into you if possible.

His hands tighten on your hips, keeping you still as his tongue finds flicks against the most sensitive part of you, drawing a moan from your lips that makes him groan in response.

He loves this. Loves the way you tremble beneath him, the way you say his name like it’s the only thing you know.

“Chris- fuck.” Your fingers find his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against you, the vibration sending sparks down your spine.

He takes his time, savoring every reaction, every shaky breath, every whisper of his name. It’s slow and unhurried, like he wants to memorize you, like he needs to.

His tongue moves in slow, deliberate strokes at first, teasing, tasting, savoring every inch of you. He groans into you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound alone is almost enough to make you fall apart.

But you don’t want it to end yet. And neither does he.

His nose presses against your clit at such a delicious angle as his tongue moves in and out of you, setting a ruthless pace- the pace he knows you need, the one that drives you crazy, the one that has your thighs shaking against his shoulders.

Chris moans against you, gripping your hips harder, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough. Like he needs you more than air.

And God, he’s so deep, his face buried between your thighs, the heat of his mouth sending sparks all through your body. You’re gasping, your fingers tugging at his hair, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up.

You whimper, arching against his tongue, and the cocky bastard grins against you before diving back in, licking into you like it’s his last meal.

“Chris,” you gasp, voice wrecked, breathless.

His grip on you tightens, keeping you exactly where he wants you. “Mmm?” he hums, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through your body.

You whimper again, unable to form words, unable to do anything but take what he’s giving you.

Chris pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips glistening, pupils blown. He smirks, dragging two fingers through your slick folds before slipping them inside, curling them just right, making you cry out.

“There we go,” he murmurs, watching your face twist in pleasure. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

You can barely breathe, barely think, as he starts moving his fingers in slow, deliberate strokes, his mouth returning to your clit, wrapping around it and sucking softly before licking over again and again.

Your hands fly to his hair, tugging hard, and he moans into you.

“Baby,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out.

Chris just grins against you, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers thrusting deeper.

And fuck, you’re so close but he knows your body too well. Knows exactly when to stop, exactly when to pull back, leaving you on the edge, aching for more.

You whine in protest, hips bucking up to chase his mouth, but Chris just smirks, pressing a teasing kiss to your inner thigh.

“Not yet, ma,” he murmurs, voice dark, wrecked. “I wanna take my time with you.”

Moments later he dives right back in. His tongue is everywhere, working in you with slow, teasing flicks one second and deep, dragging strokes the next. His fingers pump into you at a perfect pace, curling just right, pressing into that spongy spot that has you moaning his name like a prayer.

He loves it when you moan his name. Loves the way your body responds to him, the way your thighs twitch around his head, the way you can’t stop moving and arching into his touch, chasing his mouth, desperate for more.

Your fingers are buried in his hair, tugging, pulling, and he groans against you, pushing you further into the mattress at the same time without even thinking about it.

The vibrations shoot through your core, send a spark of electricity down your spine, and suddenly, you’re right there. Right on the edge, breath coming in broken gasps, body trembling.

Chris feels it, knows it, and he doubles down, fingers fucking into you harder, his tongue relentless, determined to push you over that final edge.

“That’s it, mama,” he murmurs, words muffled against your soaked skin. “Give it to me. Wanna hear you.”

His voice is practically a moan that’s full of pure need, and that’s what does it. His voice, his mouth, his hands- everything.

Your body seizes up, a sharp gasp ripping from your throat as the orgasm crashes over you, hard. Pleasure pulses through you in waves, your back arching off the bed, your thighs tightening around his head, but Chris doesn’t stop.

He groans as he licks you through it, his hands gripping your shaking thighs, his tongue still working you over, dragging every last bit of pleasure from your body until you’re whimpering, too sensitive, too overstimulated to take any more.

You tug at his hair, trying to pull him away, but he presses one last kiss against your soaked skin before finally, finally lifting his head.

Chris looks like he just fell from heaven. His lips are swollen, glistening, his pupils blown wide, his breath coming in ragged pants.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning as he moves up your body, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, your ribs, your collarbone.

When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You sigh against his mouth, fingers still tangled in his hair, your body boneless beneath him.

Chris chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Goddamn, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “You’re so fucking hot when you come on my mouth.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still trying to catch your breath, and Chris just kisses you again.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his thumb brushing lazy circles against your hip.

You were still feeling the after effects of your orgasm, chest rising and falling rapidly, skin burning from his touch, his mouth, him. But as the haze of pleasure started to clear, you noticed something else, something that made heat flood your stomach all over again.

Chris was rubbing himself against the mattress.

It was subtle, but once you saw it, you couldn’t not see it. The way his hips pressed into the bed, slow and desperate, his breathing just a little too uneven, his grip on you just a little too tight. His jaw was clenched, brows furrowed, his body tense like he was trying to hold himself back.

“Chris,” you whisper, realization hitting you all at once.

Chris huffs out a breathless laugh, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, like maybe he could hide from how completely fucking gone he is for you.

“Shut up,” he mutters, voice strained, like he’s embarrassed, like he can’t help it.

You feel another rush of heat pool between your legs, because fuck, he looks so good like this. Flushed and desperate, still clothed while you’re bare beneath him, his self-control hanging by a thread.

“You get off on eating me out?” you tease, running your nails lightly down his back, feeling the way he shudders at the touch.

Chris groans, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Ma-”

Your fingers dip lower, tracing the waistband of his swim trunks, and his whole body jerks, his hips pressing down harder into the bed.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut, but it does nothing to hide the way he ruts into the mattress again, like he needs it.

You grin, pressing a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re so hot when you’re needy.”

Chris groans, his hands gripping your hips harder, like he’s trying to keep himself from losing it. “I’m about two seconds away from ruining these fucking shorts,” he admits, voice whinny.

You shiver at his words, your own arousal sparking all over again. “Then take them off.”

Chris swears under his breath, kissing you hard, all tongue and teeth and desperation.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, forehead pressed against yours as his fingers fumble with the waistband of his trunks. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You giggle breathlessly, helping him push them down, and the second he’s free, you feel just how much he had been holding back, how worked up he is.

And God, you want him so bad.

Chris presses his lips to your jaw, your neck, everywhere, his body hovering over yours, his hand wrapping around himself as he exhales a shuddering breath.

Then, he looks down at you, pupils blown, expression full of nothing but pure, unfiltered hunger as you wrap a hand around his girthy length.

Chris groans, deep and guttural, his forehead pressing against yours as your words sink into his skin like fire. His fingers twitch against your waist, gripping just a little harder, like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice wrecked, desperate. “Don’t do that. I’ll finish way too fast.”

You simply laugh but oblige, taking your hand off him. “You always say that but then last all goddamn night.”

He simply smiles down at you. And then he’s kissing you, messy and deep, his body pressing into yours, his hands roaming everywhere and gripping your thighs, your hips, your ribs, like he can’t get enough.

You whimper against his lips, still sensitive, still pulsing from the high he just pulled from your body, but it’s not enough. Not even close.

Chris must feel the way you shift beneath him, the way your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, because he grins against your mouth, his hips pressing down just enough to make you gasp.

“You want more, baby?” he teases, voice rough, laced with something dark and needy.

You nod, breathless, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Chris chuckles, low and knowing, his lips trailing down your jaw, sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“You’re so greedy,” he murmurs, nipping at your throat, making you shiver. “So fucking sweet.”

His hands skim down your body, fingertips dancing over your waist before settling on your hips. His touch is warm, steady, as he spreads your legs further, settling between them like he belongs there. He knows he does.

Your heart is pounding, anticipation burning through your veins as he shifts, pressing his length against you, dragging his tip through your slick folds, teasing you, making you ache.

You whimper, tilting your hips up, desperate for more, and Chris moans, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“God, baby,” he rasps, rolling his hips just right, making your head tip back against the pillows. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

You whine, fingers clutching at his back, nails digging in just enough to make him shudder.

“Chris,” you breathe, voice wrecked, full of want.

He exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours again, his hips rolling into yours at a slow, torturous pace.

“I got you, mama,” he murmurs, voice softer now, full of something deeper, something more.

And then he pushes inside you, slow and steady, stretching you perfectly, filling you inch by inch, until he’s buried deep, his chest heaving, his body trembling against yours.

Your breath catches, pleasure coiling through you at the sheer feeling of him.

Chris groans, his hands gripping your hips tight, his head dropping to the crook of your neck.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, voice muffled against your skin. “You feel so good. So tight.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, pressing your lips to his temple.

“Move,” you whisper, your voice barely a breath.

Chris lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours. And then he rocks into you. Slow, deep, intentional.

His lips find yours again, swallowing your moans, his hands sliding under your thighs, pulling you closer, pushing in deeper, making you feel everything.

You sigh into his mouth, body melting into his, completely lost in him, in this, in everything you are together.

Chris groans, resting his forehead against yours, his breath ragged, his movements slow and torturous.

“God, I love you,” he murmurs, hips rolling faster, voice thick with emotion, with need. “So fucking much.”

You gasp, clinging to him, eyes fluttering shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice shaking.

Chris moans at that, his pace picking up just slightly, just enough to make your toes curl, just enough to make you feel the depth of his love, his devotion, his everything.

The world outside ceases to exist but Chris doesn’t stop.

Not after you moan his name like it’s the only word you know. Not after your nails rake down his back, leaving behind marks that will be there for days. Not after he kisses you, slow and deep, like he wants to drown in you.

Not after he pulls another orgasm from you, his name spilling from your lips in a broken, desperate cry as your body clenches around him in a way that was almost painful.

If anything, it only makes him hungrier.

His lips never leave yours, even as he rides you through it, even as he groans into your mouth, hips stuttering, body trembling. But he doesn’t stop. He won’t stop.

He won’t stop until he’s given you everything.

Until the summer heat isn’t the only thing making you sweat. Until the only thing you can think about is him. The way he fills you, the way he ruins you, the way he worships you like you’re the only thing he’s ever believed in.

Chris exhales a ragged breath against your lips, slowing his thrusts just enough to make you shiver. His forehead presses against yours, his body heavy against you, but not in a way that suffocates. In a way that makes you feel safe. In a way that makes you feel like his.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs, voice rough, wrecked.

You nod, but it’s not enough for him.

Chris pulls back slightly, searching your face, brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead. “Talk to me,” he whispers.

You swallow hard, your fingers tracing down his spine, reveling in the way he shudders beneath your touch. “I want more.”

Chris groans, low and needy, like your words just broke him completely. “Fuck,” he breathes, his grip tightening on your hips. Then he flips you over.

You gasp, a surprised giggle slipping from your lips before Chris cuts it off with a kiss, pressing you into the mattress, his body covering yours. His hand slides up your spine, trailing goosebumps in its wake, before tangling in your hair, tilting your head to the side as his lips move to your neck.

“You sure you can handle another round?” he teases, dragging his teeth along your pulse point, making you whimper.

“Yes please,” you breathe.

Chris chuckles darkly against your skin, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the base of your neck before rolling his hips forward, sliding back inside you with ease.

You both moan at the feeling, the delicious stretch, the way your bodies mold together perfectly.

Chris grips your waist, holding you steady as he starts moving again, slow but deep, drawing out every sound he can.

“You feel so good, baby,” he mutters, voice husky, full of reverence. “So fucking tight and wet.”

Your head falls forward, pleasure sparking through every inch of you, your thighs trembling as Chris pounds into you, his name slipping from your lips like a mantra.

His pace picks up, hips snapping against yours, the headboard knocking softly against the wall with each thrust, the room filled with nothing but the sounds of your moans and his ragged breaths despite the fact his entire family lay sleeping behind the walls.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You were made for me.”

You whimper, overwhelmed, overstimulated, but you don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

Chris’s hand drifts lower, fingers slipping between your legs, rubbing tight circles against your clit, his other arm wrapping around your waist, holding you in place as he ruins you.

“One more, baby,” he murmurs, voice dripping with want. “Give me one more.”

And you do. Your body tightens around him, your head falling back onto his shoulder as another orgasm crashes through you, sending sparks down your spine, making you tremble in his arms.

Chris groans, his grip tightening as he follows, spilling into you with a deep, shuddering moan, his body stiffening, then relaxing against you.

Silence settles between you for a moment, the only sound being the heavy rise and fall of your breaths.

Then Chris laughs, his lips pressing against the side of your neck, arms still wrapped around you.

“You’re actually gonna kill me,” he mumbles, voice hoarse, spent.

You smile, turning your head slightly to catch his lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Guess I’ll have to bring you back to life,” you whisper against his mouth and within seconds he has you flipped on your back and has slipped inside you, cock already hard again.

His skin warm and slick with sweat. His breath is heavy against your cheek, his lips barely ghosting over your jaw as he tries to steady himself, tries to regain control.

But there’s no control here.

Not when you’re beneath him, body still trembling from the pleasure he just wrung out of you, looking at him with those wide, needy eyes, lips swollen, chest rising and falling like you need him just as badly as he needs you.

Chris groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin lazily, but keeping himself buried inside you because he can’t pull away.

“I can’t stop,” he admits, voice low, desperate. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider, tilting your hips up just enough to make you whimper. “I don’t want to stop.”

You tilt his chin up, forcing him to meet your gaze, your fingers tangling in his messy, sweat-damp hair.

“Then don’t,” you whisper, lips brushing against his.

And fuck, that’s all it takes.

Chris kisses you hard, stealing the breath from your lungs as he starts moving again. He sets a deep, steady rhythm, pushing into you, filling you completely, making you feel every inch of him.

Your back arches, hands clutching at his shoulders, nails raking down his back, and Chris groans, rutting into you harder, deeper.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters against your lips, hands gripping your thighs, keeping them spread as he rocks into you, slow and deep, like he needs you to feel this, to know how much he wants you.

Your head tips back against the pillow, a whimper slipping from your lips, and Chris takes the opportunity to drag his tongue down your neck, sucking and kissing, leaving marks he knows you’ll complain about tomorrow.

His hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive peaks, making you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist.

Chris grins, pressing another kiss to your lips. “You’re so fucking sensitive, ma,” he teases, voice wrecked. “Still not over the first one, huh?”

You shake, legs trembling, body overstimulated but still aching for more.

“Chris,” you breathe, tugging him closer.

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours, moving his hips in slow, deep thrusts, dragging out every ounce of pleasure.

“Say it,” he mutters, voice dark, demanding. His hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow circles. “Tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitches, your nails digging into his arms as he keeps going, his pace slow but ruinous, building you up again, bringing you to that edge.

“More,” you gasp.

Chris smirks, but there’s nothing cocky about it this time. It’s adoration, it’s pure fucking need.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. “Then take it, baby.”

Chris snaps his hips forward, thrusting into you harder, his fingers pressing against your clit, pushing you higher, closer, and you can feel it. You can practically taste the pleasure you were so fucking close.

“Cum for me, ma,” Chris whispers, his voice wrecked, full of love, full of you.

You cum hard, your body clenching around him, your back arching off the bed, your head falling back as you cry out, his name tumbling from your lips for what felt like the billionth time today.

Chris groans, his pace faltering, his grip on your body tightening as he watches you fall apart beneath him, as he feels you squeeze around him, pulling him deeper, dragging him with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- mama” he mutters, his movements growing sloppy, desperate. He thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep before he shatters, his body trembling, his breath coming in ragged pants as he spills inside you again, pressing his forehead to yours, his lips brushing your cheek.

You both stay like that for a moment, tangled together, skin slick, hearts pounding, chests heaving.

Then, Chris chuckles breathlessly, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your lips and pulling out.

“Round three?” he teases, smirking against your mouth.

You roll your eyes, laughing softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Chris doesn’t hesitate.

The second the words leave your mouth, he kisses you. Deep, slow, filthy. Like he’s already planning on making good on his round three comment. His hands slide up your sides, warm and steady, fingers brushing over your ribs before cupping your face, holding you there like you’re his entire world.

And you knew you were.

Your body still burns from everything he’s already done to you, but you want more. You need more. You can feel him pressed against you, still hard, still ready, and it sends another pulse of heat straight to your core.

Chris groans as your nails scrape down his back, his hips shifting against yours, already chasing that friction. His breath is ragged when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead pressed to yours, his pupils blown even wider, his lips swollen and wet from kissing you.

“You’re such a dirty girl,” he mutters, voice wrecked, his hands gripping your thighs, pulling you closer, pressing his length against your slick heat that’s covered in two rounds of both yours and his cum.

You grin, breathless. “And you love it.”

Chris lets out a dark chuckle, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw, down your neck, sucking another mark into your skin just because he can.

“Damn right, I do,” he murmurs, shifting above you, lining himself up, dragging the tip of his cock through your cum covered folds, making you whimper.

Your body shakes, overstimulated but aching for him again, and Chris feels it. He feels how sensitive you are, how badly you need him.

“I love fucking my cum back into you,” he groans, his voice full of something dark, something possessive. “God, and you’re still so tight.”

You whimper, tilting your hips up, and Chris chuckles, pressing a teasing kiss to your lips.

“Still so desperate, too” he murmurs. You roll your eyes, tugging him down, biting at his bottom lip, making him groan.

“Just fuck me already.”

Chris laughs, but it’s rough, strained, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Whatever my girl wants,” he mutters but sinks into you nonetheless. It was slow and deep, stretching you all over again, making your eyes roll back and having your nails dig into his shoulders as he fills you completely.

Chris groans, his head dropping to your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes. “I’ll never get tired of that feeling.”

You whimper, still sensitive, still ruined from him, but you don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

Chris lifts his head, tilting your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Look at me, ma,” he murmurs. “I wanna see your pretty face.”

And fuck, the way he watches you as he starts moving, the way his eyes burn into yours as his hips roll in deep, deliberate thrusts- it’s enough to destroy you.

He drags it out, keeping his pace slow, making sure you feel everything, making sure you need him as much as he needs you.

“Chris,” you gasp, legs tightening around his waist, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging him closer, and he moans, his hips stuttering just slightly.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters, his lips pressing against your temple, your cheek, your jaw. “So beautiful. So fucking mine.”

You shiver, the possessiveness in his voice making another wave of heat crash over you, making your stomach tighten with pleasure.

Chris feels it, knows it, and he speeds up just slightly, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath hot against your lips.

“Gonna cum for me again, baby?” he murmurs, his fingers slipping between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles. “Gonna let me feel you?”

You nod frantically, barely able to speak, barely able to breathe, the pleasure building so fast.

“Say it,” Chris demands, voice dark, hungry. “Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

“You,” you gasp, barely able to get the words out. “You, Chris- fuck, I-”

You shatter before you could even finish your sentence. It’s intense, your entire body shaking, pleasure ripping through you harder than it ever has, your hands clinging to him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Chris groans as you tighten around him with such power, his movements growing sloppy and desperate. And then he’s there too, his hips stuttering, his body tensing before he lets go, burying himself deep, moaning your name way too loudly as he spills inside you.

Chris collapses beside you, breath still ragged, body still warm and sticky from everything you just did. His arm immediately wraps around your waist, pulling you into him, like he physically can’t be apart from you yet. His nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your damp skin.

For a long moment, neither of you speak, just basking in the quiet, in the aftermath, in the absolute mess you’ve made of each other.

Then Chris shifts slightly, adjusting his body when he suddenly feels it.

His lips twitch, his fingers gripping your thigh as he slowly drags them up, grazing over the sticky mess between your legs.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement.

You hum sleepily against his chest, barely registering the shift in his tone. “Hmm?”

Chris grins, tilting his head slightly to glance down at you, his fingertips brushing against the inside of your thigh again, feeling the both of your cum still leaking out of you.

“You’re dripping,” he murmurs, his tone smug as hell, his fingers teasing as he lightly traces over the mess he left inside you.

Your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as you immediately squeeze your legs together, heat flooding your cheeks.

“Chris!” you shove at his chest, your voice shrill with embarrassment, but he’s grinning now, the tiredness in his eyes replaced with something cocky, something full of pure male satisfaction.

“Shit,” he mutters, dragging his fingers up your thigh again, spreading the wetness slightly just to watch you squirm. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Your face burns, and you slap at his arm, kicking at the sheets. “Chris, get something to clean it before I kill you!”

Chris just laughs, looking absolutely pleased with himself, shaking his head as he presses a slow, teasing kiss to your forehead.

“Relax, mama,” he murmurs, but he’s already moving, slipping out of bed, stretching his arms above his head before sauntering off to the bathroom completely naked, because of course he is.

You bury your face in your hands, groaning as you hear him rummaging through the cabinets. “I hate you so much.”

Chris’s laugh echoes from the bathroom. “You love me.”

You roll your eyes, still burning with embarrassment, but when he returns with a warm washcloth, his expression softens. He kneels on the bed beside you, gently running the cloth over your thighs, taking his time, making sure he’s thorough.

His fingers brush over your skin, slow and warm, and suddenly, you’re not embarrassed anymore. Suddenly, it’s just Chris. Your golden boy, your love, the boy who takes care of you even when he’s teasing the hell out of you.

When he’s done, he tosses the washcloth into the laundry bin, slipping back into bed, pulling you against his chest once more.

“Better?” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your hair.

You sigh, melting into his warmth. “Better.”

Chris chuckles. “Good. ‘Cause I’m still gonna remind you of this in the morning.”

Before you could reply, Chris inhales a panicked breath and mutters, “Shit, I’m gonna need to buy you like seven Plan B’s tomorrow.”

You snort, laughter bubbling past your lips as you roll onto your side, draping an arm over his chest. “Seven? You planning on going another few rounds in your sleep?”

Chris grins, brushing his fingers up and down your spine. “I mean, if you’re up for it…”

You swat at his chest, making him chuckle, but then your grin turns wicked, teasing. “Your mom is definitely gonna be disappointed that we didn’t use the condoms she bought for you.”

Chris groans, covering his face with his hands. “Jesus Christ, don’t remind me.”

You giggle, propping yourself up on one elbow. “She literally walked in on us once, Chris. She knows you’re not a virgin.”

Chris peeks at you from between his fingers, giving you a deadpan look. “Yeah, and I still can’t look her in the eye.”

You smirk, resting your chin on his chest. “I think she was just trying to be supportive. Making sure her son’s being safe and all.”

Chris grumbles, shaking his head. “She left them on my bed, Y/N. With no note. Just a silent here, please stop traumatizing me moment.”

You burst into laughter, curling into his side as he groans dramatically. “Aw, baby, your mom just wants what’s best for you.”

Chris scoffs. “She probably heard all that too and is currently regretting every decision she’s ever made.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his collarbone before whispering, “I think she’s just proud her son has stamina.”

Chris lets out a strangled noise before flipping you onto your back, pinning you beneath him, tickling your sides until you’re screeching with laughter.

“Oh, you’re funny, huh?” he teases, grinning down at you as you squirm beneath him. “You think you’re so fucking hilarious.”

“Chris- stop!” you wheeze between laughs, kicking your legs as he keeps going.

Eventually, he relents, rolling off of you with a satisfied smirk. You’re still giggling, breathless, and Chris watches you with this soft look, like he’s completely and utterly gone for you. And you know he is.

Then he sighs, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright, c’mere, baby,” he murmurs, sitting up and reaching for the hem of the t-shirt he tossed onto the floor earlier. “Let’s get you fully cleaned up.”

You hum in contentment as he helps you sit up, grabbing another rag from his nightstand and running it gently between your thighs, collecting more of your release that spilled out. The whole time, his eyes stay locked on yours, full of something deep, something warm.

When he’s done, he grabs one of his t-shirts from his drawer that was soft, oversized, and smelling exactly like him and slips it over your head, his fingers brushing over your skin as he helps you adjust it.

“There,” he murmurs, voice low, fond. “My girl in my shirt. Fucking perfect.”

You smile, curling into his chest as he tugs the covers over both of you. His arms wrap around you tightly, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against your back.

You sigh, completely melted into him, your body still humming with the remnants of everything he’s given you tonight. His skin is warm beneath your cheek, his heartbeat steady, grounding.

Chris presses a slow, lingering kiss to your hair, his fingers continuing their soft path over your spine, tracing lazy, absentminded patterns like he never wants to stop touching you.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs against your forehead, his voice thick with exhaustion but still full of that quiet, unwavering care.

You nod, nuzzling closer, your legs tangling with his beneath the sheets. “Mhm. Perfect.”

Chris exhales softly, tucking you even closer somehow, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he loosens his grip.

“Good,” he whispers, his lips brushing over your temple. “Gotta take care of my girl.”

Your chest tightens, warmth blooming inside you at how soft he is now, how different this moment is from the desperate, hungry way he had fucked you just minutes ago.

This is what you love about Chris.

That he’s wild and reckless and cocky, but then he’s this, too. He’s gentle, protective, utterly devoted in a way that makes you feel so unbelievably safe.

Your fingers rub absentmindedly against his chest, your eyes growing heavy, exhaustion slowly pulling you under.

Chris hums, his breath slowing, his hold on you never faltering.

“Sleep, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead again, soft and lingering. “I got you.”

And with that, wrapped up in his warmth, in his love, in him, you finally let sleep take you, safe in the arms of the boy who always has you and always will have you.

[punishereditz]

The Hunt

Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x f!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Primal play. Chasing. Sort of fear kink? Ripping clothes. Bondage. Praise kink. Dirty talk. Claiming kink. Oral (f receiving). Marking. Biting. P in V. Unprotected sex. Rough sex. Choking. Overestimation.

AN: Raw. Next question.

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: When Sergei learns your darkest desire, he makes it come true. Becoming his next hunt.... Run.

~

Goosebumps crept up your skin. Leaving a shaky breath to escape your lips. You didn't know how you got here, but you were so happy you were, despite the fear. The fear that was consuming you right now. Filling every inch of your body. The fear... the adrenaline... the lust. All of it was on overdrive. The thoughts of Sergei fulfilling your desires. Your darkest desires. How your little secrets of kinks came out for him to know, you don't know. But you couldn't think about how he knew. All you could think about was how he was actually for it. How he came up behind you. His body towering over yours.

His presence making your heart rate spike and your body tense. The cold bite to the air didn't help with the tension in your body. Or how everything was eerily quiet except for the faint sound of the wind and the sound of howling in the long distance. How the darkness of the night perfectly hid everything. The only reason you know he's behind you is because of the sudden heat. His hand slowly traced up your arm, stopping at your shoulder. He leaned in until his lips were only mere inches from your ear. His closeness making another shiver run up your body.

"I'll give you a five-minute head start. Run." He growled and you quickly took off. Your feet were leading you faster than you could process. One foot in front of the other. You ran as fast as you could. Arms stretched out to make sure you didn't hit anything along the way. Jumping over or moving around branches and holes. Trying to navigate as best as you could through the dark night.

Your breath getting heavier with each step. The smell of pine and oak filling your nose. Leafs and sticks breaking and crunching under your feet. The sound of nature and your hammering heart was all you could hear. You thought your heart could pound right out of chest. The loud hammering overwhelming. But not as overwhelming as the fear. The desire that was growing. The adrenaline that was getting higher. The thoughts of him hunting you. Chasing you. Trapping you once he catches you. The thought of you being his prey, while he was the predator, it gave you a rush. It made the wetness between your legs grow. It made you wild. A wild animal soon to be unleashed to chase after you. Time felt slow for you. You felt you have been running forever.

But for him? The time was nothing. The five minutes felt like seconds. The smell of your arousal filling his nostrils. The sound of your heart hammering. The fear coursing through you... he sensed it all. Making his cock strain in his pants. His control to slip. But as he saw the time was up, so he let go of all control. He ran on all fours at an inhuman speed. Tracking your scent. It only took him a few seconds to catch up to you. Tackling you to the ground. Careful to not hurt you. He pinned your arms above your head. His legs on either side of your hips. Keeping in place despite the wiggling and fight you were trying to put up.

Your actions halting and your breath catching as you saw his glowing gold eyes staring down at you with a hunger that both scared you and turned you on. "You're mine now." He growled as he loomed over you. His hand going down to your shirt. Ripping it open. Buttons flying. Your gasp quickly turning to a moan as his fingers circled over your nipple. Gently twisting and pinching. Your back arching off of the cold ground. Your chest rising and falling with each heaving breath.

"Stop fighting. Or do like that? Huh? You like trying to fight me princess?" The struggle was no use. You were trapped. You were his now. That meant you weren't going anywhere.

"Look at you. Putting in so much effort." He chuckled lowly. His hands leaving you. Slowly removing his belt. He grabbed your hands. Using his belt to tie your hands together.

"Are you going to be my good girl to use?"

"Yes." You stuttered and frantically nodded.

"Do you know what happens when I catch my prey?" You shook your head. The longer he took to answer, the more your fear and arousal grew.

"I like to play with them." He whispered in your ear. A chill running through your body and your back arching in anticipation.

His lips grazed down your neck. Over your collarbone and down your chest. Reaching your stomach, he grabbed your pants, pulling them down and tossing them over his shoulder. He smiled at the sight and quickly tore your underwear. The cold air hitting your core and making you gasp. He took his jacket off, placing it under you so you had something to lay on. Then he settled between your legs. Leaving gentle kisses along your thighs. His lips and tongue trailing along your skin. Feeling and tasting every inch of you. But the sweet and gentleness wasn't going to last much longer.

His teeth nipped at your thigh. A whine leaving your lips. He lowly chuckled and bit again. Leaving bite marks all along your thighs. Sucking at the skin and running his tongue over the fresh marks to soothe it. Then he hovered his lips over the spot you so desperately wanted him. Inhaling deeply. Taking in the scent of your wet pussy. His cock twitching in response to the wetness he knew he caused. If you smelt this good, he could only imagine how you'd taste. He licked a stripe up your lips, and he growled at the taste. "Fuck, princess... you're fucking delicious." He mumbled lowly into your skin before he wrapped his lips around your clit. Gently sucking.

Swirling his tongue around your clit. Making your legs shake. He wrapped his arms around your thighs. His hands resting on your hips. Holding you down. Keeping your movements still. His strength keeping you place, despite how you tried to wiggle. How your back arched and your moans got louder. Your tied hands above your head gripping at the ground. Desperately trying to catch your breath. But you couldn't. He quickened his speed on your clit. Leaving you breathless and on the edge. Your orgasm slowly building. Your stomach tightening and your head spinning. Your clit growing more and more sensitive with each stride of his tongue. "Look at me." You did as he said and was met with golden eyes. A dangerous stare that only sent you closer to the edge. The sight of him eating you like it was his last meal. Eating you like you were the most delicious meal he's ever had. Staring at you like a wild animal finally feasting on its prey after catching it.

His name fell from your lips with a loud shout. Your body trembling and shaking as your climax hit you. His tongue carefully helping you ride out your orgasm. Your shaky body finally relaxing. He raised up. Licking his lips. Staring down at you. "Such a good girl for me. And taste so fucking good. So sweet."

He grabbed your waist. Turning you over so you laid on your stomach. Pulling your hips up so your ass was in the air for him. He untied one of your hands, pulling your arms behind your back and retying them. His hands coming down to rub and massage over your ass. Gripping it in his hands. He gave your ass a good slap before he quickly started unzipping his pants. Pulling them down enough to free his hard cock. Taking his hand to collect the pre-cum from the tip and using it to lub his cock. Stroking it a few times, he ran his cock along your wet cunt before he brought it to your entrance. Pushing the tip in. His fingers dung into your hips and he groaned. Giving you a moment to adjust to his size, he slowly pushed it in further. Your walls clenching around him.

"That's it. Take every inch of my cock." He grabbed your bondage hands. Using them to hold onto as he slowly pulled out. Then slamming his cock back in. Your loud whines perfectly syncing with his low grunts as he started to fuck you. Thrusting into you harshly. His hips slamming against your ass. The sound of your skin slapping together filling the forest. Each thrust getting faster and harder than the last. Your walls clenching tightly around him. His cock throbbing and twitching in response. It was all too good for him. Having you bent over at his mercy taking his cock so well. He wanted to come undone, but he kept himself together because he wanted to absolutely wreck you. He wants to absolutely ruin you and use you until you finally have to beg him to stop.

And he knew he had you right where you needed to be when your second climax hit you. Hitting you even harder than the first one. Shouting his name and collapsing under him. But he didn't stop. He didn't slow. He grabbed your hair and pounded into your cunt until you were coming on his cock all over again. He pulled out. Grabbing you up and he sat down on the ground. Pulling you on top of him. With your back to him, he pushed his cock back in. One hand going to your throat and the other going down to your clit. "Be a good girl and ride my dick."

You started bouncing on his cock. But not being able to do it for long. Finding yourself weak. So, he helped you. Thrusting up into you. Rubbing fast circles on your clit. His hand squeezing a little tighter around your neck. "I'm going to fill this pretty little cunt up." His words made yet another orgasm sneak up on you. His own orgasm hitting him. His cock twitched and he choked you harder as he came. A growl leaving his lips as he filled your cunt up with his seed. Riding the both of you off of your climax's. He left lazy kisses on your shoulder and neck. Stopping at your ear.

"I'll give you a five-minute head start. Run princess."

[quimichi]

₊❏❜ ⋮ WEIRD FETISHES ⌒ - MDNI

warnings: weird fetishes, don't read if you're uncomfortable! Picked the most "normal" or tame ones-also, this is my view and visions of those fetishes

summary: Some rare, unspoken fetishes the characters have.

characters: genshin guys + harbingers x F!Reader

a/n: this is uhhh, interesting? I was bored, wanted to try something yk. I couldn't fit some characters into different fetishes, but you can idk--

Autassassinophilia

Being in life-threatening situations

❕️EVERYTHING WILL ONLY HAPPEN IF YOU WILL GIVE YOUR CONSENT, HE WILL STOP IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY SO. IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ

Many say that the thrill of being caught is already hot enough, but it's not enough for him. He wants the adrenaline rushing through his body constantly. It's almost addictive...no, he is addicted already. Fucking you standing, so close to the edge of a cliff or at the edge of a building is good...but not enough. Having you choking him, or him choking you, being close to pass out, is not enough. Giving him head while driving, fingering you while you drive...is.not.enough...so what will be? ♡ Childe Wriothesley Scaramouche Capitano

Cardiophilia

cardiophiles are people who are, quite simply, in love with hearts. they enjoy and are aroused by the sight, sound, and/or feeling of the heart/heartbeat.

❕️EVERYTHING WILL ONLY HAPPEN IF YOU WILL GIVE YOUR CONSENT, HE WILL STOP IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY SO. IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ

Whenever he holds your hand, his fingers can't help but wander to your wrist, feeling youe pulse. The beats inder his fingertips feel so intimate. Knowing your heart is beating, beating for him is almost to much to handle. And whenever you two cuddle and he's the little spoon, he'll place his head on your chest, listening close to your beating heart...oh how lovely you sound. Your heart beats so strong against his ear, he can literally feel it. ♡ Ayato Baizhu Dottore Albedo Venti

Candaulism

Exposing one's partner or images of their partner to others.

❕️EVERYTHING WILL ONLY HAPPEN IF YOU WILL GIVE YOUR CONSENT, HE WILL STOP IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY SO. IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ

Oh, how he loves you and your body. Your pretty little head and soul. He's so sure many others will love you just the same (but never as much as he will). He takes pictures of you, has you as his wallpaper even. Lockscreen too! You know your tits are out, cum covered with your tounge sticking out. You're also aware your ass with his dick stuffed in your cunt is also somewhere in his gallery. And many many more. And he just fucking loves to show it off. No one is save, not even the mid 30s guy sittong beside him in the train. The nice grandmother buying her groceries. He'll accidentally or intentionally shove it in their faces, that you belong to him. And he belongs to you. ♡ Lyney Kaeya Itto Heizou

Gynephilia

Females or femininity, regardless of one's own sex or gender identity

❕️ EVERYTHING WILL ONLY HAPPEN IF YOU WILL GIVE YOUR CONSENT, HE WILL STOP IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY SO. IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ

He'll pay you to get your nails done, you pick the color, shape, length, accessories, anything you want. You want make up too? Have his card and have fun, be wild, be bold, make a statement with that pretty face. No make up at all? Baby, you're such a beautiful woman regardless. You wanna have your hair done? Sure thing, tell him when the appointment is he'll drive you there. At the end of the day all of this and so much more is just for one purpose, to fuck you. He'll pull that hair, watch the mascara run down your pretty cheeks. Taste your lipgloss on his lips. Watch your nails looking stunning around his dick. A goddess like you, should step on a man like him. ♡ Diluc Pantalone Aether Kaveh Al-Haitham Pierro

Aquaphilia

A sexual fetish that involves people swimming, posing, or even drowning in water.

❕️EVERYTHING WILL ONLY HAPPEN IF YOU WILL GIVE YOUR CONSENT, HE WILL STOP IMMEDIATELY IF YOU SAY SO. IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT READ

Dw he won't drown you-. You just look so elegant in water, how it hugs your body. How it makes your skin shine and glimmer, the droplets looking like little diamonds carefully placed on your skin by the hands of god himself. Not to mention how beautiful you look in your swim wear...It already happened so often you stopped counting after 20. You two having sex in water. Wheter its in a pool, lake, river or the ocean itself, he can't help himself. Heck, even you in your bathtub is a sight to behold. And if he had to be honest...maybe the bathtub is his favorite. Cause no one will see and hear anything, and it feels way more closer to you...♡ Neuvillette Freminet Kazuha Dainsleif

Had no idea what to do with these- Cyno Gorou Thoma Tighnari Xiao Xingqiu Zhongli

[hazelfoureyes]

Luck (Alastor x Reader smut)

Tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, creampie, attempted kidnapping, justified homicide, mention of the the history of women stabbing men with hat pins, biting, breeding kink if you squint, blood, Luci left on read :(, protective Alastor, cervix bullying, possessive Alastor, outside sex, rough sex, fem reader

minors DNI

This was a two part story, this being part two. But part one just isn’t good enough and I’m tired of waiting lol so here’s the standalone smut, written in a way it can be enjoyed solo

Vox’s ever present eyes noticed a reoccurring face around Alastor, and decided you were an easy way to get under his skin. Alastor manages to find you during the kidnapping but how he finds you sends his gentlemanly resolve unraveling. He had wanted to be gentle, he really had. C’est la vie, hm?

It took nearly 2 months of regular run-ins around Cannibal Town, chats over black coffee and deviled eggs, and some behind the scenes magic by Rosie but you finally enjoyed a dinner with the Radio Demon.

He’d never tell you how he awoke nightly in a panicked sweat, dreams of your soft skin under his nails tormenting him. He had done his absolute best to be just a charming southerner, tiptoeing between flirtatious and polite. Something about asking someone out during the night seemed scandalous and … loaded with implications. But ever since his hands felt your body thrumming beside him during a dance at Rosie’s Birthday Bash in the town square, he felt starved for the opportunity to see you again. You were beautiful in the daylight, yes. But something about the night, the way the shadows seemed to blanket the two of you together, it made him feel wild. He could remember the nights on the prowl during his time on earth, and the rush of being so close to you with so few people around felt so similar.

Rarely did he get a rush of adrenaline anymore, but when you’d shoot a witty retort back at him his heart would balloon against his ribs. The way you looked at him while he spoke, like you were drunk on the sound of his voice, made his fingers tremble. He never wanted anyone to know this, and hoped in some way he’d never have to tell. But then he considered, what face would you make if you ever reached over for his hand across the table? What if you rested your delicate head against this chest and heard the frantic beating? How sweetly would you smile? Smile at him, only?

“Alastor?” You broke him from his trance, noticing the ever so subtle way his smile seemed to loosen around the edges when he was lost in thought.

Dinner was long done, and you’d both managed to stall for a bit as he walked you toward the gates to Cannibal Town. He had insisted he escort you, though he was irked you wouldn’t allow him to wait until your ride had arrived.

If he knew you were staying with Lucifer Morningstar, he’d see you differently somehow. You didn’t want Alastor to think you were chasing powerful men, or to know you slept so close to the King of Hell. Something in your gut said he would find it unattractive.

“Yes, dear?”

You gestured to the gates a couple blocks in front of you, “This is good. You should get home.” Before Luci arrives to take me back to his.

“I intended to take you to the gates.” He looked past you, then back to you. You were so … small in front of him. Not your body or form, just, your existence. So delicate compared to his own strength. The way you looked up at him with your large doe eyes, it practically pained him. You looked so innocent, pure— how he wanted to make your eyes roll as your head lost any semblance of coherent thought. He wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.

“It’s just a couple of blocks.” He lifted his hand to begin to argue, but you cut him off at the head. “Alastor” you said it so softly now, your tone startling him with its gentleness. Had anyone, ever, said his name so sweetly? Since his mother, atleast?

“May I?” You tapped your cheek. His eyebrows rose before knitting together in understanding.

He leaned down and turned his cheek to you. You hummed happily and placed a chaste kiss there. Alastor turned his face toward yours, “In the future, You don’t have to ask for permission, darling.” You tried your best to keep your heart in your chest, and nodded. It was well known he wasn’t fond of physical touch, let alone unexpected touch. Is this how it felt to be an overlord? To claim a piece of someone else, a slice of territory not originally yours? “Two blocks is quite a deal of distance in hell.” He didn’t take his eyes off yours. Your attempt to distract him failed. Of course it did, he was nothing if not persistent.

“I have my weapon.” You lifted the hem of your dress to show a small angelic dagger holstered to your thigh.

“Ah, yes. Ha ha! Some kind of hat pin, I see” His eyes rolled, amused, “Who would dare bother you with such a frightening needle?”

With a glare, you mocked him, “Ha, Ha.” But as you turned to leave you stopped yourself. Every encounter with Alastor felt like it could be your last, as if he’d just disappear entirely. “May I see you tomorrow? I was going to get coffee at Hallowed Grounds around 10.”

“My dear, you couldn’t stop me.” He cooed, “Needle and all.”

“Good night, Alastor”

“Good night.” He didn’t move at first, but after you had made it half way to the gates of what he felt was assured safety, he let himself turn and leave.

His grin touched his ears as he hummed to himself. His cheek felt heavier where you’d kissed him. A part of you lingering with him. How he wanted nothing more than to grab you by the throat and -

An appliance store window filled with various sized TVs flickered as he walked past. Alastor stopped, ears turned down as he turned on the heels of his feet to face Vox’s cocky stare plastered on every screen.

“Oh, it’s you. Don’t you have a curfew? No TV after 9pm, they say. Rots the brain.” Alastor lifted his hand to inspect his nails. Vox had a witty intro planned, and launched straight into it. He only stopped when Alastor looked back up, “I’m sorry, were you speaking?”

The screens glitched and filled with static before Vox’s face stretched out across them all.

“It’s not my bed time you should be worried about.” Vox crooned. He couldn’t resist the urge to prod Alastor, “Perhaps your new friend should have gone home earlier.”

Just before you reached the gates, you stopped to see if Lucifer had replied about his ETA. Your phone slipped out of your hands as someone pulled you backwards into the narrow alley behind you.

A hand covered your mouth while the other arm was lifting you up by your waist. You kicked your feet uselessly trying to make contact with any thing that would slow your progress into the shadows.

Another man entered now in front of you, “You’ve got a meeting at Vee Tower, babe.”

The sound of an idling car in the back of the alley came into focus. You grabbed your knife and plunged it into the right thigh of the man holding you. He dropped you and you barely managed to scramble to your feet before his hand grabbed you by the hair and threw you against the wall. The force of the impact stunned you but you’d managed to keep the knife in your grip.

You’d been waiting for this. You had let men get the best of you before on earth, too scared of dying if you failed to defend yourself. You weren’t scared now. When you looked back at the man, he was shouting at his partner but you couldn’t understand a word. Your ears were ringing, a combined effect of hitting the wall and your skyrocketing blood pressure.

Your shoes slipped off easily and you pushed yourself from the wall and back into the attempted kidnapper, shoulder first.

Seeing you launch yourself onto his accomplice, the other man booked it out of the alley. It wasn’t worth it. This was supposed to be easier than this.

If he had maybe turned left, he would have made it to safety. But luck was with Alastor when the brute ran straight into him.

Your phone lay on the ground behind the man, who was already backing up when Alastor set his eyes on him.

“I’m going to enjoy this”, Alastor’s voice cracked with a static sting, eyes flickered to red dials against midnight black eyes as his back and neck broke and stretched. The man tripped over himself, but Alastor’s hands tore the man’s upper torso from his body before his ass had time to hit the sidewalk.

There was no time to savor the death, he tossed the man’s head and shoulders into the street before bounding with unnaturally wide strides into the entry of the side street.

Never had he known fear like this. Not when alive, not even close. Not even when Adam nearly bested him. There was a rock in his stomach threatening to drag his heart into the gutter of the Pride Ring as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley. Were you still there? Were you still whole?

You hadn’t noticed him at first, not until his massive, looming shadow shrunk across your body. Even then, you hadn’t stopped to realize it wasn’t the other attacker. You continued stabbing the dagger into the man’s throat with both hands until Alastor’s shoe crushed a piece of wayward glass under his step, breaking your concentration. Wild eyes finally tore themselves from the grey flesh of the demon on the floor up to Alastor, still expecting a fight with the man who’d fled.

“Alastor” was all you could squeak out. You were straddling the man by the chest, his throat so thoroughly decimated his head held on by just a few loosened tendons. The white dress you’d worn specially for your dinner was soaked through with blood. Your hands red to the wrists. Your lips and cheeks splattered. Your feet dirty and bare.

You yelped as you were yanked off of the dead man by your chin, Alastor’s large hand holding you off the ground. You were finally eye to eye with your dinner date. For the second time that night you were thrown against the cold brick wall. Alastor’s free hand grabbed yours that still held the knife and repeatedly bashed your fisted hand against the wall until the knife fell from your grip to the street below you. You hadn’t meant to keep it, never meant to brandish it at Alastor. Your survival instinct had overridden your sense.

Perhaps it would have stayed in control, but when Alastor’s hand slipped to your throat and his lips crashed into yours your mind went blank.

He kissed you clumsily, this wasn’t a man in love, or even a man in lust. This wasn’t a man at all. A demon in need was bruising your lips against his teeth. When you didn’t immediately open to receive him, he used his free hand to push at your cheeks and press inward where your bottom jaw naturally met your top. Your mouth was wrenched open, allowing his long and wide tongue to bully your own.

Alastor felt frenzied, the sight of you manically stabbing the already dead attacker momentarily broke him. His sweet little doe, his innocent and gentle darling brutally murdered a man and he got to witness it with his own eyes. He never believed God ever noticed his existence, but the moment he saw you straddling that corpse he felt sure some higher power delivered you to him. Just for him.

Only for him.

Pretense and facade be damned, you were made for him in such a specifically demented way.

He lifted you up, pressing your body against the wall with his own as your legs wrapped around his hips. He didn’t know where to start, he couldn’t keep his hands from trembling as he smeared the blood over your cheek between hurried kisses. His eyes were aglow, keeping your focus on him and only him as they darted around your face taking in every detail, every errant drop of your attacker’s blood.

Alastor buried his head into your collarbone, sucking bruises and nipping cuts into your exposed skin. You could feel the strained erection in his pants, it helped keep you balanced against him and the wall. He seemed to be mindlessly grinding his clothed cock against your core. Your dress had naturally found its way up and over your hips as he let one of his hands cradle your ass.

He had half a mind to rip the dress off of you but as he took a second to look down at your body he knew he wanted to keep it. The dress his love first killed in. Love— before a word that fell weightless from his tongue now sat heavy in his thoughts. He wanted your blood stained dress stuffed in his mouth as his last meal. An ode to your corruption. Maybe you'd understand him now, better than most. Did you enjoy it when you stabbed that man?

Breathing ragged and uneven, he pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes were glowing red, pupils dark black pins.

Did it scare you, when you killed him?

Were you scared now?

He lurched you upward again, hands coming to either side of your head as he pulled back to look at your face properly.

“If you don’t want this, now is your only opportunity to stop me.” He closed his eyes to try and regain an ounce of composure. Perhaps a small human piece of him not wanting to see your face if you denied him this.

With every breath he seemed to be taking in your scent, his hips still gently pushing into you. Your eyes darted to the well lit street just beyond the dark of the alley. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting your fingers scratch lightly at his undercut. He violently shuddered at the touch.

You shook your head imperceivably to most, “You don’t have to ask me for permission, darling.”

With that, Alastor came completely undone. As his teeth marked your neck with shallow tears, his hand tore the crotch of your panties entirely off, leaving just the lace waistband to slip up your stomach. With the speed of a starving man to his first meal, his cock was free of his pants and rutting against your exposed slit.

The head of his member was pushing against your clit in unpracticed thrusts, slipping between your lips and pressing at your entrance. With a growl he lifted you up more and angled your hips to him. He didn't wait to feel if he was lined up and he sunk into your heat with a single thrust. You winced, clutching onto his shoulders. His eyes saw the pained expression and for a second, just barely, the southern gentleman who tried to walk you home slipped back to the surface. But as quickly as he came, he was lost again as Alastor saw the way your mouth hung open, tongue hanging over your swollen lip.

A static shock nipped at your wrists where they met his neck, "Such a debauched look, mon cher. I haven't even begun to ruin you yet."

A moan slipped past your lips as he brought his mouth to your ear, tugging with his teeth as he thrust back into you. You could feel he hadn't bottomed out yet, but already he was crushing your stomach into your diaphragm. Your chest began to feel hot, a warmth trickling down to your stomach and pooling beneath your belly button.

Ad his breath ghosted along your neck, you could hear it sharply spike with every slam of his hips against yours. Something about seeing him losing composure, hearing him so vulnerable, spurred you to roll your hips against his cock.

"Mmmm," Alastor groaned, "Don't push your luck, dear. Do you know how precarious of a sit-"

You did it again.

He pulled out of you with one motion and flipped you around. Your hands were yanked behind you, the long fingers of one of his own hands intertwined with your wrists. His other hand lifted your knee up and out as he pushed back into you. The new position allowed him to reach deeper than before, and with a burning stretch you felt him finally bottom out. With each thrust, the head of his dick dragged inside of you. The new angle allowed him to smash into your g-spot with every slam into your heat, his balls tightly slapping against your wet cunt.

"I wanted to be gentler with you", He leaned his head against your shoulder, pace quickening. It felt as if your back would snap in half, "But you looked absolutely sinful covered in his blood." His lips grazed your ear as he let go of your wrists, his antlers now large enough to be scraping against the bricks above your head. The loss of him holding you made you lose you balance. Alastor took the opportunity to find your clit with his middle finger.

Biting down on your lip you broke the skin, trying to suppress the moan rising out of you. His hips kept a bruising pace, your ass smacking against his lower stomach with every thrust. You didn't want anyone, anyone to find you getting railed against a wall just outside of cannibal town.

His fingers forced past your lips, you hadn't noticed he was using a shadow tendril to now lift your knee to nearly touch your elbow. Two fingers pressed down on your tongue as his pace impossibly quickened.

You wanted to lick or suck at his digits, do anything to participate in this alleyway fucking, but it became clear Alastor didn't want you to do anything at all. He was lost in the pleasure of your pussy clamping down on him, pushing back against him with every intrusion. He just needed you to exist there around him. He needed you to take him, for your body to welcome the gentle abuse.

The pressure began to build as the reality set in that the Radio Demon was fucking you raw against a wall. You felt your orgasm winding up. The infamous Alastor, the mighty overlord, balls deep in you. So entranced by your cunt he could only groan and hiss against your ear. You could feel every centimeter of him pulling and pushing inside of you, his head smashing your cervix and uterus into your guts.

Your hands began to slip down the wall as your mind started to go fuzzy around the edges. His middle finger strumming at your sensitive clit with a new fervor, his thrusts becoming shallower. The radio in the assailants idling car roared to life, flitting through stations and static wildly as Alastor spoke to you.

"When you orgasm,” His voice crackled against the nape of your neck, "and your cervix lowers to receive my seed,” your knee was dropped as he fucked you flush against the wall, trapping your body there, "I will drown your needy cunt in my cum, darling." His words echoed through the car's radio and off the walls of the alley, volume peaking with a pop as the speakers blew out.

The tickle of his lips along your spine made you shudder, and you went limp as you let your mind go and allowed your body to spasm around him. As your orgasm hit, your stomach muscles cramped and your body tightened around Alastor's cock. He hissed, his hips losing their rhythm for a second as you almost painfully clamped onto him, cunt trying desperately to pull him deeper into you. He needed to slow down or else he’d be pushed into his own release sooner than he planned. As your orgasm waned and your pussy squeezed softly against him again, he renewed the rhythm. Your body had gone entirely slack, your limbs no longer able to receive messages from your brain.

Within seconds, Alastor thrust against you so forcefully you felt the air pressed out of your lungs. He buried himself in you, holding your hips flush against his as you instinctively tried to squirm away. The way you moved against him, tried to flee from his release, only seemed to make his cock jump more inside you. You thought you heard a pained “mine" against your shoulder as his promised seed jerked into your now pliant womb.

He finally stilled, his dick softening in you. You felt your body slide down the wall, feet touching the ground before giving out entirely. You sat, slumped back, and looked to the scene in front of you. Dead demon behind Alastor, your shoes bloodied and tossed around, and your little knife just within reach.

Alastor quickly composed himself, cock returned to his pants and his suit adjusted precisely. You looked up at him, eyes glazed and tear stained. Your dress was wet and ruined, thighs slick with a mix of fluids. Yet he stood there, clean and pretty. Perhaps some of you had soaked into the front of his pants, but you couldn’t be sure.

"I apologize for underestimating you", He took the dagger, lifting your dress to slide it back into its holster. "And for allowing you to leave my sight." He gathered your shoes and wiped the dirt from them against the leg of his pants before gently slipping them back onto your feet. With two large hands under your arms he pulled you up to your feet, legs trembling still. "I promise you it won't happen again. Can you walk, my doe?"

The new name made your cheeks feel hot, funny given the more embarrassing part of this situation was his cum now sliding down your thighs. You nodded weakly, adding, "But-" and glanced to your lap. You squeezed your knees together and looked back at him.

"I fail to see the problem." His head tilted to the side as he lifted your dress with one of his long fingers and watched the milky white liquid slowly inch down your inner leg. "But, I'll find us a taxi. You won't be going home." He guided you by your hands to step over the corpse and into the light of the street.

You clarified, "I won't be going home tonight?"

He summoned his microphone and brought it down with a crack onto your phone, still discarded on the sidewalk. "INCOMING CALL: LUCI" flashing on the screen before it was shattered. He lifted his hand and waved for a passing taxi, turning to you with a soft grin, "Any night, darling."

༻Masterlist༺

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Promises. | joel miller x f!reader, 2.2k

Summary: A word escapes your mouth, you think you got the upper hand. You don't. Joel eats your ass to put you right back where you belong.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, pwp, rough sex, dom!joel, sub!reader, established relationship, everything that happens has been previously discussed and is consensual, cursing, size kink, dd/lg kink, brief p in v, (1) spanking, (1) pussy slapping, rimming, tongue fucking, brief v!fingering, cum eating because.. OF COURSE, sentimental joel at the end, as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I don't know what happened, your honor, I swear! I just- I can't- I don't know what to say, ok? It is what it is.

P.S.: Come on, tell me how bad I am at summaries. I'm fine, it's fine, TOTALLY FINE. 😒😶

Dividers by @strangergraphics & @inklore

“Pull me out.”

Joel’s lips brush against your jawline, his hands cupping your ass, grinding you against his hard-on.

You reach for his restrained erection, pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants. How do you always end up completely naked while he’s still clothed, is still a mystery to you.

You look down at his cock, already angry and leaking. You purse your lips and spit on it, lubricating it more, as you slowly stroke it up and down.  

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”, you confess as you work him. He laughs through his nose bashfully and shakes his head slightly at your compliment.

“You’re so warm and big and hard, daddy.” you add, your eyes fixed on his massive length.

The words slip out of your mouth without a second thought. Your body stiffens over him; you never thought about this before. And he never asked you, either. You close your eyes hoping he didn’t get that. In your dreams. 

He stops the movement of your hips and tilts his head to look at you. “What did you just say?”

His eyes are dark, wild fires of desire dancing across them. But you can’t see that, hidden behind your shame. 

“Uh-” you hesitate, feeling embarrassed, needing to explain yourself. Yeah, he won’t have that. His hand grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to look at him, to repeat your words. You groan at his rough treatment, because this is how you love Joel. Sweet and caring, but also dominant and possessive.

“Say that, again.”

You see the look on his face now, the desperation behind his stern demeanour, and it spurs you on, makes you feel in control.

“I need you inside me, daddy.”

“Again.”

“Please, daddy.” you whine, trying to rub your clit on his erection, but his fists tighten around you even more.

His throbbing cock twitches in your palm, leaking all over your knuckles. 

“Did you like that, daddy?”, you grin at the effect you are having on him.

The time has come to remind you who is really in control here.

He grabs your hips hard and slams his cock into you with all his might.

“Did you like that?”

You can’t answer, your eyes closed and your mouth wide open, you’re paralyzed from the intense sensation of pain and pleasure coursing through your body.

“ANSWER ME.”

“Yeeeeees.” you whimper, boneless in his lap.

“You are not in charge here, little girl. You never were. You do as I say, when I say.”, he commands. Your head is still spinning from the adrenaline rush.

“Answer me when I speak to you.” He emphasises his demand by slapping your asscheek with all his strengh, with the hand he had buried deep inside your cunt earlier. It stings delightfully. 

“Y-yes, daddy.”, you frown, your mind confused by the arousal his humiliation brings, your eyes filled with tears. 

But his face is still filled with hard lines, he’s not done here. 

He pulls you off his cock and pushes you back onto the bed, turning you onto your stomach, completely flat on the mattress. He presses all of his weight over you, his warm body touching every inch of yours. 

“Look what you made me do, little girl.” he growls into your ear as he gently removes your hair.

“Wasted all your delicious juices on your cheek, tryna’ put you in your place. I needed to taste that.” You never know what to say when he talks like that. You pray he won't punish you for your silence. But he doesn't seem to care.

“I guess I’ll have to lick that off you now, won’t I?” Fuck. 

His calloused palm continues to press down on your back, making it clear that you are not to move an inch. He snakes down between your ass, grabs a handful of your cheek and shakes it to watch it jingle. He licks a wide stripe of your still aching skin, collecting the smeared arousal from it.

“Hmmm” you hear him moan at the taste. 

He continues to lick, nip and suck at your skin, moving closer and closer to where your ass meets your thigh and then further inside, close to where you want him most. You arch your back and raise your hips, bending your knees slightly, your legs still completely closed to give him better access.

“Demanding, aren’t we?” he asks rhetorically.

“You’re lucky I’m so goddamn thirsty.” He licks another wide stripe with the flat of his tongue from your center to your tight ring of muscle, leaving your clit untouched. Oh. 

No, that can't be. That was an accident. And then he does it again. He licks into your hole, through your folds, dragging your slick up your asshole. Oh. 

He begins to swirl his tongue slowly, making deliberate circles, moistening the folds around your puckered hole. Ok, he’s eating your ass, it is happening. He flattens his wet muscle against your tight ring, pressing it firmly to feel the weight and texture of it and he licks as if you’re a fucking ice cream. 

His tongue becomes more persistent, aggressive, he’s making out with it now, his lips closing around the tight skin as his wet muscle pushes against your opening. You’re panting at the sensation, strange and new, scary and taboo. Perfect. You start to clench around him, it’s ok baby, I got you and your muscles relax to the assault of his tongue. He feels you become putty in his hands and that makes him wild. Your devotion, your trust, your openness to everything he wants to give you.

He cups your cheeks in such a crushing grip, literally lifting your hips by them, spreading you even wider for him, your skin stretched and aching. Your head is in a haze from the dichotomy of sensations. The pain is almost too much, your skin is red and stinging, almost pinching your heart, but the intense pleasure your asshole receives from his hungry mouth is unbearable. Your cunt is fluttering in a desperate effort to clench around anything and you’re dripping, dripping, dripping. 

“Please..” you mumble into the sheets, not knowing what you’re pleading for exactly. 

He doesn’t answer, lost in his own pleasure. 

“Please.. Daddy, please..” you whimper breathlessly.  

That seems to bring him back to the present. “What is it babygirl? What do you need?” You continue to whimper and wriggle on the sheets.

“What is it? Daddy eating your tight little asshole isn’t enough? You want more?”

“I- I- just- need to come, daddy, please, it’s too much- it hurts.”

“Does it, now? Where does it hurt, little girl?” 

“My- my pussy, please-”

He then bites down hard on your cheek, making you yelp.

“Where. Here?” He prods a finger at your drooling opening. “Here?” He pets softly your swollen bud and you let out a deep moan of relief. 

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry little girl, but it’s not her turn. What is going to happen is I am gonna fuck your tight asshole with my tongue and if you are good for me I’m gonna fuck that little pussy of yours with my fingers. And you’re gonna come like this; am I making myself clear?”

“Yes.” you whisper on the verge of collapsing.

“Yes, what?” he demands, slapping your pussy. 

“Y-yeeees, daddy.”

“That’s my girl, being so good for her daddy.” he mumbles and then continues. “Or maybe… I should fuck this little hole properly-”

“D-ddaddyyy-” your brain short-circuits, anxiety overwhelming your senses.

“What’s the matter, baby girl, daddy’s too big for you?” he chuckles wickedly. “Don’t worry sweetheart,” he coos next to your ear, his stiff length resting between your asscheeks, “I’m not gonna hurt you. The time will come, but not now.”

You relax, even though you already know Joel would never do anything by force.

He begins to grind his hips against your bottom, his leaking cock smearing pre-cum along your folds and ass.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he grunts through his teeth, “it would be so easy, so easy to slam my cock right back into your tight cunt; look at her crying for me, fuuuck.”, he talks incessantly, his hot breath ghosting over your damp skin.

Your eyes roll back at his dirty mouth and you raise your hips more in invitation.

Joel presses his hips down, taming you, easy babygirl. The warmth of his pelvis melts you to the mattress. 

“But daddy promised, didn’t he? Hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“That’s it, baby. Those are the only words you need to know.” Joel whispers into the back of your head, kissing your hair. “Daddy’s gonna take care of you now.”

He straddles your closed legs again and lifts you up by your hips, your cheeks already showing the results of his rough treatment, red and sore to the touch. He spreads your puffy folds with his thumbs one last time to look at your begging hole, beautiful, you think you hear him mumbling. 

The tip of his tongue plunges into your soaked cunt, collecting as much of your slick as he can and dragging it up, up, up to your tight ring. He spreads it all around, tonguing your folds, then flicks his tongue up and down and from side to side, driving you mad. You can feel every vertebrae in your back from your tail to the back of your neck due to his ministrations.

His thumbs now slide higher up your cheeks, opening you up even more. He caresses and prods your opening with his nose giving you a whole new sensation and then he fuckin’ spits on it. It’s warm and sexy and dirty and you clench involuntarily. Relax for me, his lips brush against your sensitive skin and as soon as you do, he pushes all the way in, as deep as he can get his slick tongue to go. He starts bobbing his head up and down using the force of his head to fuck you deeper, the squelching sound of the penetration making your swollen clit twitch. His cock is painfully hard, leaking onto your legs beneath him.

You’ve never felt more aroused in your life, the smell of sex in the sheets, the position he’s got you in, the act he’s performing on your- well, his body-, because everything that's yours belongs to him; you've long since surrendered your resistance to those deep brown eyes and those capable hands. Your whole body trembles with his attention, the way he moans into your skin brings you almost to a climax with precision. 

“I- I n-need your cock, daddy, please.” you beg in a trembling voice and he smiles against your aroused flesh. 

“No, baby, you’re right there,” he replies, always in tune with your body and the way it responds to his touch, “you just need a little.. push” and with that he plunges three thick fingers into your cunt and begins to shake them from side to side, creating a sensation of vibration in your soft walls and at your g-spot.

“D-ddddadddyyyy” you drool incoherently into the crumpled sheets, your face pressed against the mattress as you begin to come, both your holes spasming hard around his tongue and fingers. Joel groans deeply through his chest, a pained moan and pulls away to watch your trembling body riding out its high. Your skin in covered in sweat, your back is arched and your cunt and ass are on display, slicked and shiny, clenching through the last waves of your orgasm.

Still straddling your legs, he fists his throbbing cock, guiding its swollen head against your pulsating ring and he pumps himself with his cum-covered fingers, two, three, four times and he comes; thick, hot ropes of his spend sprouting through his slit and onto your asshole, running down your puffy cunt. 

The warmth of his cum on your abused holes creates a new wave of euphoria, the adrenaline making your body shake even more. Joel milks the last drops of his cum, watching as his seed drips from your cunt onto the sheets, as you lie flat and limbless on the bed. He cups your mound, the heel of his palm on your asshole, his fingers on your clit, massaging his creamy release all over your pleasure points. You want to back away and grind on his hand at the same time, a broken sigh escaping you as you bite your lower lip.

Joel enters you with two fingers, fucking some of his cum into you gently and nonchalantly, the thought of his seed being wasted outside your body almost unbearable to him.

“Open.”, he commands and you obey, as you always do. He slips his slick fingers inside your mouth and you immediately suck them clean.

“That’s you and me, darling; that’s what it’s all about. You and me, together.”, he whispers and you bite softly at his fingers as he pulls them away from your warmth, unable to find the right words to say back.

He crushes his body over yours, his semi-hard cock twitching between your asscheeks, his soft belly against the small of your back, his warm and sweaty chest enveloping your upper back, as he cages you between his forearms on either side of your own folded arms. He rests his sweaty forehead between your shoulder blades, regulating his breathing and moaning softly as he exhales against your skin.

“Jesus Christ, baby, that was..”

You don’t answer, you can’t, still panting from the intense orgasm and his crushing weight.

“Shit, I’m crushing you, baby- sorry- let me clea-” he tries to move away, but you cage his forearm between your own hand and your ribs, intertwining your fingers with his.  

“Just a little longer,” you slur sleepily, “just stay a little longer..”

Joel hums obediently; now he’s yours to do with as you please, your turn, pressing one side of his face to your skin, inhaling your mixed scent, his favorite in the whole damn world.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

[strawberryblue-blog]

A to Z —Jude Bellingham.

summary: NSFW alphabet with Jude.

warning: YES. +18. smut, headcanon.

words count: +1k.

A - after care (what is it like after sex?)

Too clingy. He likes to hug, ask, laugh, play, touch your skin. He won't move from your side until you fall asleep on him.

B - body part (favorite part of your body and his)

On him, his back, shoulders or arms, he works them a lot and likes to show them off. His muscles are one of his most attractive features. On you, you little hands trying to hold on tight to him or your innocent look when you kneel for him. He loves it.

C - cum (anything about cumming)

He always prefers to come inside you while you are on birth control, he wouldn't like it any other way because he LOVES ending up inside you. That's why he usually accompanies you to checkups and reminds you to do everything right so you can feel close to each other, without jeopardizing any possibility.

D - dirty secret (some dirty secret).

Fucking you in public places, like the locker room or some part of the stadium, out of sight of people but knowing that they are in the vicinity.

E - experience (experience in sex)

Enough, he is still young and has a lifetime to learn. So he only knows the basics but that doesn't mean he's basic, he does a perfect job.

F - favorite position (to fuck you)

Missionary to have control of everything. Your tits, your clit, your eyes, your mouth, your neck, he likes to be in control.

G - goofy (how serious is he during sex?)

He could be a bit annoying at times, he likes to tease a lot and is usually quite playful.

H - hair (how do he/you take care of his/your privacy?)

He doesn't cut it off completely, he likes to have a little bit makes him feel more of a man according to him. In your, honestly he doesn't care as long as you feel comfortable.

I - intimacy (what is it like during sex?)

He's wild. He's brutish, desperate and not at all gentle. Literally, an ANIMAL.

J - jack off (masturbation, how much do he/you masturbate?)

He tends to do it often especially when you're not there. It helps him to lower stress and like any young man, he likes to get to know his own body.

K - kink (fetishes during sex)

Sticking his fingers in your mouth, spitting in your mouth, biting your mouth, anything involving your mouth and lips. He loves them.

L - location (places to have sex)

Any place for Jude. Bed, kitchen, couch, car, even small spaces. If he wants to fuck you, he'll do it anywhere.

M - motivation (what excites him/you?)

Because of his age and how hormonal he can be, he tends to turn you on pretty easily with the bare minimum. But if you walk around the house naked, wearing only his T-shirts, Jude won't be able to hold back and will end up fucking you.

N - no (what wouldn't he do with you?)

No to sharing you. He could never let anyone else touch you, or even look at you. He's kind of possessive and jealous.

O - oral (how does he like to give/receive?)

He likes to receive because he is obsessed with your mouth and the way you suck him off. He loves it when your eyes water and your throat chokes on his cock. But he's also a great giver, he really knows how to use his tongue.

P - pace (how do he like to do it?)

Hard, deep and without mercy. Nothing more to clarify.

Q - quickie (do he like quick sex?)

Yes. Anything that involves being inside you is a yes for Jude.

R - risk (would he take risks? which ones?)

He likes to feel the adrenaline rush of being discovered, he gets a little hot at the idea of someone discovering them but would be a little embarrassed. Although he prefers to try it and then they will see if they will take the risk again.

S - stamina (how long does it last during sex?)

Two or three rounds depending on how tired you are. Sometimes it can make you scream all night long, sometimes just one fuck will satisfy you.

T - toy (use toys)

No. As I said before he is quite jealous and anything that can give you more pleasure than him would piss him off. So he wouldn't use them and if he ever caught you with them he would punish you.

U - unfair (how much does he like to provoke you?)

Too much. He's a dirty boy, he likes to provoke you to the limit, make you beg, despair and scream for him.

V - volume (how loud is it during sex?)

It's a bit vocal because of how hard he can be, it's inevitable not to moan or gasp loudly while he fucks you like crazy. Obviously for you, it is too.

W - wild card (small random story)

“What is this?” the question reached your ears as you combed your hair in the bathroom. Jude appeared behind you with the red velvet square box, confused.

“It's nothing” you said trying to take it from his hands but he was quicker and put his hands up high. “Jude, give it to me” you mumbled embarrassed.

With your little hops you tried to take it but Jude opened it high up, pulling out the object inside. Her fingers held the sensual black lingerie you had ordered a few days ago.

Your mouth fell open wide as you noticed the tiny threads of the lingerie, only covered with thin black lace.

“Damn, baby” he gasped in surprise.

“It was a surprise!” you squealed crossing your arms across your chest as you pretended to be angry. “Now you've ruined everything!”

Jude's mischievous look made you blush, as he looked down at the contents in his hands again. So much so that it embarrassed you and you took it out of his hands walking out of the ante room.

“Bebeee” he moaned touching you from the waist as you tried to put the underwear away in your drawer. “Put it on” she asked in your ear.

His body pressed against yours and you felt his bulge in your ass. His lips licked your lobe making you bristle and gasp at the feel of his touch. You pulled them out again and pushed him down on the bed, walking to the bathroom to get dressed in your lingerie. When you finished putting it on, you looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling all the power and confidence in you. Then you walked back out of the bathroom.

Jude was just as you had left him, breathing heavy on the bed with his pants tight in his crotch. When he saw you, his eyes flashed like lights, he bit his lip and you can play you saw his cock jump in his pants.

“Fucking sexy in that lingerie” he moaned as you stood in front of him. His lips kissed your belly as they caressed his hair, he licked your skin and held your ass squeezing it tightly.

“Too bad they'll go too fast, baby” he murmured before grabbing the tiny strings and pulling them until they ripped, leaving you completely naked.

X - x-ray (how big is it and how?).

It's big. Thick, veiny, long. It's perfect and Jude knows exactly how to use it.

Y - yearning (how long can desire last?

He tends to have quite a high sexual appetite even more so when he comes home from big games, trips abroad or when they don't see each other much because of their respective jobs.

Z - zzz (how is his sleep after sex?)

He tends to be a little fussy before bed, he likes to cuddle, talk and play but he will fall asleep faster than you think if he is very tired. He'll probably try to wait for you but he'll fall asleep anyway, he needs to regain his energy after fucking you like he should.

[blarshwritezz]

Yandere psychopath boyfriend x male reader. You discover that your boyfriend killed people and try to leave the forest where he lived, but you end up being caught by him. He decides to punish you through the bed with rough sex and overstimulation

I fw this

Yandere Psychopath bf x Reader

M yan x M reader

TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, murder, noncon

Your boyfriend has always been...strange, but you never expected this. You thought he just liked nature, and that was why he lived in a cabin in the woods. You thought he liked the peace, like you did. That he just enjoyed growing his garden and living practically entirely off the grid. The seclusion...that was a better way to put it.

You couldn't look at him the same since you saw it. Since you saw him killing someone in cold blood. He had the nerve to act so lovingly to you when he did something like that.

You couldn't get it out of your mind. The way that poor man's blood covered him, the pool of red standing the grass and seeping into the dirt. The way he chopped up his victim and stuffed the bits into a bag. The bag he used for his fertilizer.

You clearly weren't safe. You had to leave.

One night, while he was asleep, you snuck out and ran. You ran like your life depended on it. Because it did.

You didn't make it far. A trap. He had traps set up all over the place. A large net caught you, forcing you off the ground. You struggled to get out, but your adrenaline eventually wore off.

You didn't know how long it was until he came along, holding a bloody knife. "Aw, darling, were you trying to get out? I guess that means you know my nasty little secret, huh?"

He cut you out of the net, not giving you a second to even try running before he grabbed you by the scalp and dragged you back, kicking and screaming. "You should know you aren't allowed to run. I'm gonna have to punish you now."

Getting back to the cabin, he forced you upstairs and threw you on the bed. Before you could scramble to get away, he once again grabbed your scalp and forced you to kiss him, shoving his tongue down your throat.

His free hand, still holding the knife he had, cut your clothes off. He finally discarded the knife and started to roughly jerk you off.

He only broke the kiss when you were practically suffocating. "You think you can run away from me, huh? Think you can just leave?" He roughly bit into your shoulder, licking up the blood he drew. "No, I don't think so. You're mine. All fucking mine."

Letting go of your head, he shoved two of his fingers down your throat. "Suck."

When he was satisfied, or tired of it, he yanked out his fingers, only to suddenly shove them deep inside your hole. He stretched you wide, getting your insides nice and wet before suddenly replacing his fingers with his cock.

He didn't waste a second to start pounding into you like a wild beast. He bit you more, leaving bleeding marks all across your shoulders, neck, collarbone, and chest.

"Thought you could get away with trying to leave me, huh?" A harsh smack echoed through the room as he spanked you. "Think you're too good for me or something?" And another. "You're mine." Another. "And I'm going to fuck it into you until you can't even walk out of this room."

He continued to thrust into you, hitting against that special spot harder and harder. He didn't stop, not for a second.

Even when you came, the first time of many that night, he only got rougher.

He didn't give a second of rest, and he wasn't going to. Not until he made you a moaning, sobbing, drooling mess begging for his forgiveness. Then he'd go back to the loving and gentle boyfriend you knew. But only once he was sure you understood not to leave him.

I feel like the end was a bit rushed tbh

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Worship

a/n I won’t say anything because what is there to say… Also, this is fiction idk why but I just feel the need to wave that flag here.

Summery: Just on stage shenanigans between you, the back singer, and the boys.

warning: no full on smut because there’s so much of that as it is but they are sex on legs so this does have sexual implications. I’m just a girl. And I feel like I should go confess my sins to someone.

All of them x reader

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Nothing truly beats the feeling of the stage lighting beaming on you. The radiant atmosphere and the beating of the crowd in front of the stage. It got addictive fast. And the rush of both adrenaline and freedom you never truly got over. Most of the time, it still felt like a dream. Like you weren’t there. There weren’t four other people. A whole band that people swooned over. 

You still remember the notification of the private message in your DMs. “We’ve seen your videos. The voice is to die for. Up to back us up?” You had stared at it for hours. Pressing the profile over and over again, convinced that one of the times it would take you to some scammy account, but it didn’t. So you took that leap of fate, and the roller coaster that unfolded still made your skin tingle at times. 

“How you don’t break an ankle in these is beyond me," II grumbled, gesturing to the high heels you were strapping around your legs. Before throwing the towel he had just used to dry his hair with, at you. You huffed back, “Of course you wouldn’t know; you sit and look pretty the whole show."  You shot him an overly exaggerated smile before flipping him off. “Put the claws away, baby," he said, lifting his hands up, “I would love to keep my eyes for some time longer." You lifted both of your hands, making sure to flex the black coffin-shaped nails, only earning a chuckle in return from II. 

“No form of violence is allowed backstage," III cut in, putting the mask over his face, “Unless it’s consensual, of course." The three of you snickered. There was never a dull moment with them. You weren’t sure exactly why you imagined them to be all cold and unapproachable, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. From the silly hats they happily took from the fans to messing around on stage barking. “We’re out in thirty,"  IV's voice cut through the snickering. “Vess?”, you questioned, standing up only to still feel tiny among them. It was unfair how even killer heels had you feeling minuter. “In his element, ready to go," the usual then. You turned to the mirror while doing the last checkups. Fiddling with the straps of your dress.

“Headset feels good?”, warm hands slipped up your beck, fidgeting with the wires as if he even knew what he was doing. “You just needed an excuse to put your hands on me, sir," you said, pushing back against IV’s chest. He already had his mask on, but from the way his blue eyes flickered, you knew he was smirking at you. “You can’t call the man guilty if you haven’t caught him red-handed, darling,"  he muttered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “And to my defense, the wire wasn’t plugged in,"  he snickers before pulling back. You shook your head as you watched him follow after the boys out. Reaching for your mask, you take a couple of deep breaths to steady your heartbeat. It was going to be a night to remember. You could just feel it. 

And your gut wasn’t wrong. The crowd was wild tonight, and that always set the bend into a different kind of frenzy. For most of the shows, you were usually up there on your pedestal. Looking like a vision cloaked in both light and darkness, there were some songs that Vessle liked having you down there with him. But you always felt almost guilty. You didn’t want the fans to feel like you were there to change the dynamic. Let alone take up a spot that wasn’t yours to take. 

So when you noticed Vessel striding towards you, you couldn’t help but silently shake your head. They had already all been all over each other all night. But you don’t get to run through all of your reasons as to why this was a bad idea before Vessel was in front of your pedestal. Hands reaching up for your ankles before he pointed for you to get down. You shook your head at him, continuing to sing your part. Not wanting the interaction to seem odd, you sank to your knees so you can touch his face, only realizing how wrong this move was once Vessel's hands grip the sides of your hips and you’re airborne before you can even blink. 

A small shriek slips past your lips as you hold onto his shoulders. But no matter what your reaction to this was, he was all smug about it. His white teeth bright against the black paint covering his body. “I don’t like it when you put on unnecessary fights," he mused before turning back to the crowd. So, you let the thrill of the beat take over. Playing into the role of the masked goddess. A siren. That was the beauty of the mask. Such little thing making the biggest difference. Giving one the chance to feel way more confident. 

And it’s II your legs take you to first. His eyes follow your movements all across the stage. With the drum set taking most of his platform he was sat on, playing games with this man was tricky. But it wasn’t impossible. So you slither behind him. Placing your hand on top of his head, you carefully make him look up at you. That same moment, the heel II was so found off finds its way between his parted legs. Without missing a beat, his face is pressed into your upper thigh, fingers dipping beneath the mesh overlay of your dress. And you know there will be hell to pay later on from the way he’s gripping your ankle. You push his face away from your body, throwing him a lighthearted kiss as you hurry down the platform stairs. The roar of the crowd filling all of your senses. 

III is left to your mercy next. And since his eyes were all over you, you knew that even if you were to walk right past him, he would follow you across the stage. So you stand there, motioning with your fingers for him to come to you. Right as your part of the solo vocals came. Ones that boys even called your siren song. You let the melody pour out of you. Watching III sink to his knees in front of you. Your brain blanks for a moment as he leans forward, and you just know why the crowd erupts in chaos. So your fingers find his head, pulling him even closer. Let him paint the picture of devouring you. Worshipping you. And you’re yet again so thankful for the mask covering your face because you know that your face would be as red as the paint on his skin. Especially after he stands back up. Fingers moved to brush over his lips as if he was cleaning them.

You can feel someone’s eyes burning holes in your body, and you’re not even one bit surprised to see IV with his eyes blazing. He was the one you flirted the most with backstage as well. Since day one, there was just that mutual fire you both shared. So the back and forth between you both was never-ending. But if there was one thing IV avoided, it was making any move towards you while everyone was on stage. And while boys took their sweet time being lunatics when it came to you. His play pretend ended with his bandmates. Yet you didn’t miss the glances he threw your way. Or how he would find himself close to your pedestal, close enough to touch but never leaning in. 

And while your head was telling you that maybe he just didn’t want to get involved, your heart was telling you to take yet another leap of faith. So you two stood in front of each other for a heartbeat. And right as Descending’s you came crawling back to me, filled the stage. Your finger hooked beneath the bottom of his mask as you pulled him closer. No matter the blast of sounds around you, you could still make out the growl that slipped past his lips. And since his eyes promised hell, you threw all caution to the wind as you leaned in, smashing your lips against his. You didn’t let it linger for too long; there was little fun in having two masks between you both, but it got the point across well enough. 

IV’s hand reached for you as you moved back away. A freaked-out giggle slipped past your lips as you darted towards your last victim for the night. Well, and shelter now, considering that you had to get away from IV. Vessel was someone you knew had to be worshipped in front of the fans. You weren’t living under a rock. His hands and fingers had separate fan blogs, not to mention his carved-out chest muscles. So you slipped behind him. Letting your fingers trail the sides of him. Finding the sweat-drenched skin. Dragging your nails over the paint, no doubt leave claw marks in its way. 

You rested your head against Vessel’s beck for a heartbeat, hoping to slip from behind him with ease. But you couldn’t have been more wrong because the moment you took the reassured stride away from him. A firm hand gripped your hair as he carefully, yet rather possessively, dragged you back to him. Pulling your head back so he could look down at you, shaking his head. But the smile gave his controlling demeanor away. “Whatever will we do with you, little Vixen?" You bit your lip, shrugging slightly. Playfully pushing at his chest, you slipped out of his grip. Swaying your hips as you slowly climbed back to the steps of your pedestal. Not letting your brain think of the hell you just set ablaze.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the wall between us

kinktober, day sixteen

a/n: ...yeah, this one is weird, but also kinda wild

summary: pov, you live in a cult where there is an impregnation ritual on your 18th birthday

warnings: steve harrington x reader, smut, cult au (they are both members), cult leader!jim hopper, weird birthday impregnation ritual, public sex, fem gloryhole, breed kink, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, forbidden romance

word count: 773

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Always a blessed day when a flower blooms and becomes ready to expand on our wonderful family,” you heard Jim, your charismatic and adorn leader boast from the other side of the thin wooden wall, “now, gentlemen, let us bow our heads and pray, please, grant me the power to deduce who will bless this girl with a babe….” after a moment of dead silence, Hopper broke it with a loud, “ah! I can see it!” the others in the audience rumbled as he finally revealed, “it is you!”

“Me, sire?” a voice in the crowd cut through, sounding completely taken aback. 

“Yes, you bear the seed she needs, my child,” his proclamation prompted the other members to cheer loudly as you heard footsteps near. 

Laying on your back, legs resting up against the wall, you felt a gust of wind kiss your bottom that stuck out of the meticulous cut-out, indicating that a person had stepped up.  

“Hi,” he greeted in a hushed tone, the crowd still bustling from behind him. 

“Hello,” your fingers apprehensively fiddled with the fabric of your white dress, crumbled and gathered at your waist. 

“Uh, happy birthday.”

“Oh,” you blinked a second, surprised by his demeanour, “thank you.”

“Can I ask you something?” his low voice was clear, though his touch hadn’t found you yet.

“Sure.” 

“Are you nervous?” 

“A little, yeah,” you gnawed at your bottom lip, “I’ve just waited for this for a very long time… are you?”

“I know I shouldn’t be, but he’s just never picked me before, so…” he admitted, staying quiet a moment before checking, “is it alright if I begin?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” you rushed to say, adrenalin pumping through your veins. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt his touch ghost over your skin, just your hip, the exposed part of you that was the furthest away from your core. Your fingers tightened their grip on your dress as his gentle touch slowly fluttered closer to your presented pussy, “is it strange that I wish I could see you?”

“Not at all,” he nearly chuckled, “I feel the same way,” his broad thumb came up to brush over your glistening folds, his touch staying ever so light as he tickled your clit. 

Just then, you heard a heavy pair of boots come near, “come on, son,” you heard Jim whisper into the man’s ear, “you haven’t got all day,” a threatening aura laced his tone, “complete the ritual,” a callused hand suddenly crept over your skin, “look,” and without warning, a finger plunged into you causing you to gasp, “she’s practically begging for you to pump her full,” momentarily curving his digit, he tickled a spot inside of you that made you shiver, “don’t make me pick somebody else,” though his controlling touch then faltered, parting ways by swiftly landing a sharp slap across your bottom, a hushed yelp bubbling from your lips. 

“I’m sorry, sire,” the man quickly apologised, hastily rushing to bury himself in you. 

Turning his attention back towards the crowd, Jim then roared, “and the ceremony has officially begun!” boisterous cheers promptly erupted, “soon we will be blessed with more abundance!” 

Keeping his voice low, you heard the man whisper as he bucked into you, “I’m sorry, I really wanted to do this differently, take our time…”

“It’s alright,” you breathed, “it’s how it's done…” your whole body rocked with each of his efforts to fulfil his duty. Planting your palm on the wood parting you two, where you presumed his visage was, you couldn’t help but imagine what he looked like… exactly the way his hips snapped into you… had his hair fluttered down to obscure his vision? Was he looking at you and you alone? Because if he looked anything like how he sounded or how he felt, then you couldn’t even begin to comprehend what that could mean, but what you did know was that it enticed you in a way you’d never felt before, “…maybe one day we’ll meet again and there won’t be a wall between us. Will you show me then how you had wished to do it?”

With a low and strangled moan, you felt him twitch inside of you and his movements quickly slow as he filled you up. 

“What’s your name?” he asked breathlessly. 

“Y/n,” you felt your heart flutter as you stared at the wall, “and yours?”

“Steve,” he whispered, his touch warm as his fingers fluttered over your goosebump-ridden flesh, “I’ll find you, Y/n. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I promise I won’t stop till I do.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[oldermenlvrgrl]

Blue Swallow

On the road with Benny isn’t always a dream, especially being broke down on the side of the road in New Mexico.

Benny Cross x Reader fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, smoking, talk of marriage, talk of sex, anxiety, heated making out, of-13 touching.

A/n: I fear that my obsession with Benny isn't slowing

It was in the barren desert golden hour of New Mexico that Benny’s bike had finally choked. You heard the faint guzzle noise back in Arizona and his deep sigh. He hated stopping. Once Benny stopped, his high did and Benny always loved being high. It kept him sane. You clung onto his broad shoulders as he leaned forward for momentum. The heavy backpack with both his and your clothes weighed you down. The back of his golden hair curled at the nape of his neck was drenched with sweat. He wore a cutoff-sleeved leather jacket of the vandals colors. The sun beat him down as he drove. The sweat ran down his forehead into his eyes. The dry humid heat covers you both as a blanket.

He groans deep in his chest as the bike finally slows and he pulls over on the highway's shoulder. He hadn’t and neither did you see a car nor a bike on the highway for the past hour. The once great idea of traveling Route 66 in its completion seemed like a nightmare now.

He turned off the ignition and shifted to give you the key. You take it and put it into the backpack. It’s quiet and he doesn’t say a word, neither do you. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his vest and plucks one out to smoke. The smoke swirls around his head like a halo. His agitation calms into an anxious hum. He stays silent and smokes his cigarette for a while until it burns to the end. He takes another and starts to burn that one. He runs one of his hands through his hair to push back the fallen strands on his forehead.

Your hand falls off his shoulder and your fingers lightly trace over his tattoo. Planting your sweaty forehead on his back you breathe heavily. Throat hoarse from dehydration. Your mind was strangely calm at the inconvenience.

Nighttime would happen as you walked to the nearest city and Benny would rather die than leave his bike on the side of the highway. So with a heavy heart, he gets off the bike. He places his hand on the small of your back and the other takes your hand as he helps you off the bike. The cigarette dangling between his lips. His blue eyes look wild with the amount of blue in them. He pauses, his hip pushed out with one of his hands on his waist as he points forward.

“Town should be only a couple miles, keep close and don’t leave my sight.”

You nod softly at his command. He’s paranoid about going into the unfamiliar town with his bike not working and then with you. Ever since Benny met you he vowed to keep you safe from the world. You didn’t belong in such a demented world. Sometimes it was unbearable, he wouldn’t let you talk to some members of the club. When attending meetings or parties he made you sit by him or wouldn’t let you be too far away where he couldn’t touch you. He was being generous when he said to not be out of sight. That was just how Benny was.

Shuffling your feet begrudgingly you slowly trailed in front of Benny as he pushed the bike up the road. His hair fell over and stuck to his face. The veins in his arms stretched as he shoved the thousand-pound piece of metal.

Only a few minutes ago you were walking behind, you had stuck your thumb out to hitchhike, thinking it’d help. When he saw what you were doing in his mirrors, he turned around in a fever, almost dropping the bike. He stomped his way to stand in front of you sternly scolding you to keep your hands down. His face flushed red as he kept his anger to a minimum, his agitation heaved. The veins in his temples and throat throbbed with the rush of adrenaline. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen if somebody picked you up and he wasn’t there.

Attempting to play Eye Spy, and numerous other games to keep your mind occupied. Benny was a lousy sport and didn’t want to play. You tried jokes that Johnny told you to lighten the mood and it made his mouth fall open with his cheeks and ears tinted pink. He’d never heard anything dirty come out of your mouth and now you were talking about naked hookers playing pool in bars.

You pointed excitedly at the small town ahead. Pointing and jumping with a wide smile. You put the backpack down onto the dirt, digging through the mountain of clothes and grabbing the paper pamphlet you’d grabbed at the last gas station about New Mexico. Enthusiastically pointing at the Blue Swallow motel and ranting about it to Benny. Once he finally caught up with where you were jumping. He kicked the bike stand out, grabbing both sides of your warm skin and pressing his lips onto yours.

Benny just prayed that his bike wouldn’t get stolen while he slept. He parked it right outside one of the motel room’s windows. He didn’t care if somebody was already renting out that room. That hunk of metal wouldn’t be moving until tomorrow morning.

The blue neon light of the swallows covered everything in its glow. He, unfortunately, looked like a wannabe blue fairy with his golden hair and pink cheeks, which you giggled at, remarking the thought to him which he embarrassingly retorted to not call him that. When you continued to explain why, pointing to his hair and cheeks. He looked around to see if anyone heard the conversation, grabbed your biceps, took you behind a wall, and almost didn’t have the heart to explain to you what it meant when someone called a guy a fairy. He looked into your eyes as they dimmed and he hated himself for tarnishing the concept of a fairy for you. He frowned and kissed your forehead when you began to profusely apologize. He whispered that you can call him the name when in private and it made you smile. He held your hand as he walked you back to where you first called him a fairy.

He opened the glass door for you and watched your little daisy dukes move in front of him. He almost sobbed as he felt the cold refrigerated air circulate around him. The scattered little fans worked as little pistons that propelled the cold air everywhere. The woman behind the front counter was older. She had long blonde hair and gaudy makeup caked onto her face. She read a Cosmopolitan magazine in one hand about American bikers. Disconnected with the world. You were wandering around the lobby looking at all the pretty shiny souvenirs.

“One room.”

She didn’t look up from her magazine and Benny thought about robbing the place.

“$100.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, fishing out his wallet from his front pocket. He looked over to where you were, checking to see if you were still looking at postcards. The woman looked up through her big fake lashes and closed the magazine.

“I haven't seen any bikers around before, are you new?”

His eyebrows furrowed. He shrugged, he didn't really care to make small talk and all he wanted was his room and a Marlboro.

“Passing through.”

He mumbled. The woman grinned, reaching over the counter and touching his hand, pushing her breasts out as she leaned. He looked to the ceiling and gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching.

“You should pass through my room.”

She said softly and he shook his head.

“You don't get it, I'm with my-”

“Your sister?”

His mouth fell open, his cheeks rosy with shock. There was an age gap between you and him but he didn't think people would think of it like that.

“I'm sure she wouldn't mind.”

He feels your small hands wrap around his arm, feels the tug down as you yank him down kissing him quickly.

“I love this place, Benny!”

Some sick twisted part of him finds the reaction to the hostess humorous. Her eyes widen with fear and her mouth opens in horror. She finds a key and throws it at his chest, he catches it before it falls.

“I love it too honey.”

He whispers, kissing the top of your head before holding your hand and leading you out of the lobby. The key fob had the number 13 on it but he went to the door with a 7.

You questioned him why he was opening the wrong door and he shrugged saying that all the locks were the same and it was just an illusion of choice. It was dark except for the neon signs and street lights glowing in the room. You thanked God that nobody's stuff was already in there.

As he steps inside he immediately takes off his boots and colors. He shuts the door and locks it behind you, taking the straps of the backpack off of your shoulders and putting the bag on the chair in front of the vanity. The absence of the weight makes you sigh happily. He leans down and presses a kiss on your cheek with a small squeeze of a chaste hug.

He leaves his jeans and his muscle shirt on and props open the small window above the bed. He smiles as he sees his bike outside. Taking the pack of cigarettes out he places one between his lips and sparks it alive. Leaning over he turns the knob on the small tv to some western movie that plays. The sound is barely above a whisper. It's the only bright light in the room.

He can't see you as you shed your dukes and shirt, changing into a pair of his boxer shorts and one of his tattered shirts. Half of his face is shone by the light of the tv. The cowboys and Indians yell on the screen. The smoke swirls around his head and out the window. He lazily holds his head up against the wall. His chin jutted out to you. His lanky body half slumped on the bed and the wall. There's a no smoking sign above his shoulder. His muscle shirt is raised above the belt of his jeans showing the soft tanned curve of his abdomen and the patch of hair connecting his belly button to below his waist. His strong jaw stuck out to the side as he blew the smoke out the side of his thick lips. His eyes half closed as he fights sleep.

Watching eagerly as you come to the edge of the bed where his feet hang. He's always loved seeing you in his clothes. Something primal and proud swarms in his chest. He spreads his long legs a little wider and you step between them. Your knees hit the soft mattress as you crawl into his lap. Your thighs on both sides of his waist. As you lower your hips to his lap you feel the denim rub against the soft skin of your inner thighs. His boxers riding up around your waist.

He reaches out the cracked window pane and taps the ash off the cigarette. Lifting his hips up, you feel his belt buckle brush against the hidden nerves between your thighs. He presses his heated lips against the skin under your jaw. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as his kisses further. Your fingers running up and into his thick hair. Scratching at his scalp he moans into your cheek. He presses his lips on your neck. Taking a swift last drag of his cigarette, he flicks it to the pavement outside. His hands go underneath (his) your shirt. Flattening his palms on your back, along your spine as he runs them along the width of your torso. His tongue pokes out and leaves a trail of saliva as he continues down your collar. The cold air tries its best to keep it cold but the warmth of feverish bodies keeps it humid.

He removes his lips from your neck and leans his head back. His chest moving rapidly, his eyes are lazy as he looks at you through his lashes. Each heart beating like a horse running. He squeezes the fat of your waist, pulling you closer to him so you're chest to chest. You smell the cigarettes on his breath.

“I love you.”

He mumbles against your cheek. You whisper the proclamation back.

He presses a quick kiss to your lips, before deepening it. He takes his hands out from under your shirt and wraps his thick arms around your back squeezing you to him. Your mouth parts and his tongue licks across your own. You whimper something awful and his stomach churns and the lap of his jeans grow tight. He picks you up, shifts you to lie on your back, and slots himself between your spread legs. You can feel how much he wants you. It scares you how heavy it feels between your legs. His kisses slow as he breathes quickly. Yours matching his own.

Kiss swollen lips and a love-bitten neck. He tells himself that tonight isn't the right night for him to finally have you completely, so he shifts his body and lies behind you. Shoving his nose into your neck and kissing your shoulder. His strong arms wrapping around your ribs and holding you close. He kicks up the blanket around your hips. He's not cold, he's never cold when you're around but he knows that you do. He drifts off the sleep listening to your soft breaths, thinking about having to deal with the hostess to call an auto shop and dreaming of marrying you at the end of Route 66.

[blackdollette]

Hii Soo I'm not used to sending requests so I'm sorry if this is gonna be a little difficult or confusing. Have you heard that TikTok sound about how "she wanted five guys and I'm not talking about burgers" I was wondering if you could write something like that with 5 characters that Rory plays I don't mind who if you do decide to write it but I'm so sorry this message is so long

ohhh anon you're creative!

"you want more." | clyde, euronymous, jack, kappa, tyler

art deco. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @angelsanarchy @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl@romanroyapoligist @oliviah-25@si1nful-symph0ny @auggiethecreator @vanlisbon@livingdead-reilly @imoonkiss @lankysimp @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35

female!reader x clyde + r!euro + jack + kappa + tyler

word count: 1.6k

contents: gangbang, unprotected p in v, anal, a little degradation, a little praise, blowjob, public sex, overstimulation, facial, creampies, a little aftercare

like a doll on display in the window of a toy store, you felt 5 pairs of predatory eyes lying on your almost bare figure as you sat on a scrawny little bed in a private room of your favourite nightclub. what a strange set of men. the thought ran through your mind as you stared up at them, studying the group. 

there was a drunk-eyed stoner dressed in baggy clothes that held a muscular figure, a dark-haired metalhead wearing a cropped shirt that showed off a toned torso, a normal-looking man who appeared more off-putting the longer you looked at him, a greasy hippie who was already greedily palming himself, and a short-haired man with a glowing, throbbing rod concealed in his jeans.

you shyly bit your lip, fidgeting with your thumbs as you thought about what was in store for you. this wasn’t what you initially expected during a night out at the club, but you couldn't deny the adrenaline rushing through your veins. you were wearing a pair of silk panties and thigh-high black socks. the first man to take note of your nervous disposition was the stoner, who reached out a hand to gently stroke your cheek with his thumb.

clyde’s gentle touch made you shiver. “well aren’t you just the cutest thing?” he slipped his thumb between your lips, making you suck on it. “i promise not to hurt you tonight, ‘kay?” while his words were meant to bring you comfort, you could only tremble as the four others clearly had intentions of doing the opposite. 

your eyes darted around, spotting the hippie whipping out his cannon. your pupils dilated as 12-inches of meat dangled in the corner of your eye. your clit throbbed at the thought of his pipe abusing your internal organs, beating them to a pulp. and you caught a glimpse of that dream in reality as he hopped on the bed, lifting up your ass and pressing his hips against you and letting you feel the sensation of his throbbing cock through the dampening fabric of your panties.

three belts clanged as they hit the ground in unison. the three others, euronymous, jack and tyler, took their positions on the bed with you, all five of them surrounding you. euronymous firmly grabs your jaw, making you look up at him. you couldn’t help but whimper quietly, from the sight of him and the feeling of kappa starting to toy with your pussy.

clyde rested back against the creaky bed’s headboard, pulling out his erection that was already smeared with precum. tyler sat next to him and as he pulled out his dick, your life momentarily flashed before your eyes. his shaft was unlike anyone else’s in the room. from the balls, it was a shimmery sapphire blue and it faded into a pretty purple at the tip (like this). it was so thick that you tried to wrap your hand around it, failing.

a harsh slap landed down on your ass, making yelp. jack’s hand left a sting as kappa cooed mockingly. “aw did that hurt, sugar?” euronymous tore your panties off of you, tossing the useless strip of fabric to the side as he massaged your hard clit with his thumb. you arched your back, stuffing your face into the mattress until a hand grabbed you by your hair.

“don’t hide that pretty mouth,” tyler grinned, “we’re gonna put you to good use, baby.” clyde flipped his hair out of his face, teasing your lips with the tip of his cock. you eagerly took it in, taking a second to adjust to his size. clyde let out a low groan, already bucking his hips slowly into your mouth.

tyler’s alien cock glowed with arousal as he watched your throat bulge from being filled up. you brought your hand to his dick, it being much colder than clyde’s. you lifted you mouth off of his, with lips being connected by strings of saliva as you slowly took tyler’s tentacle into your mouth. his hand found the back of your head, gently guiding it down. “yeah… nice and easy.”

then they all went at full force. euro, jack and kappa all slammed themselves into you simultaneously. tears flooded your eyes as you felt two cocks stretch out your pussy and one fill up your asshole. right from the jump, you were already gushing on all of them, the wetness of your cunt saturating their rods.

clyde and tyler took off the training wheels, now making you take both lengths into your little mouth at the same time. you struggled, but your sobs provided enough spit to help them go down easily. both men tossed their head back in unison from the feeling of their girths rubbing together.

though you couldn’t see, jack was taking care of your asshole while kappa and euro dealt with your painfully tight pussy. jack slowly massaged your sore hole as he slowly moved himself in and out of you. “does that hurt, sweetie?” his hand had a gentle grip of your waist and he gave it a little squeeze. both your holes clenched, and jack took this as a sign to be a little gentler with you.

“just give me a little kick if you can’t take it. but i know you can. such a good girl…” jack’s words turned your limbs into jelly. he cocked his head to the side slightly, dislodging a few locks from his bun as he pushed himself in your tight muscle, the vibrations of your groans running down tyler and clyde’s bodies.

kappa may have had the size, but euronymous was carrying the speed. he was twice, maybe three times as fast as everyone else one, your ass bouncing each time he slammed himself back into you. he muttered the dirtiest things of all, making a knot tie in your stomach. “goddamnit, you’re tight as a fuckin’ virgin. but we all know that’s not true, don’t we?” 

you felt your cheeks burn with humiliation, much to his dismay. you ground your hips against them, cum dripping down the inside of your thighs. you had already cum a few times, but how would they know? your mouth was completely stuffed, preventing you from getting a single word out.

clyde reached into the pocket of his cargos which were inches away from him on the bed. he took out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag, eyes locked on you as your spit could his cock in a thin layer.

while clyde was calm and collected, tyler was completely losing it. his hips uncontrollably bucked into your mouth as he gripped the bedsheets so tight that his knuckles went pale. his cock was illuminated like a glowstick, throbbing and oozing as it began to drip with a neon green substance.

as the taste hit your tongue, you immediately felt like gagging. but once you got over the burning sizzle of his cum, it began to taste faintly like green apple bubble gum. you swallowed every last drop that he gave you, desperately deepthroating his length to get more of his solution. then the gates of hell broke loose. he couldn’t hold back anymore and he dumped a bucket load of bioluminescent cum into your digestive track.

it erupted out of him like lava, hot and sizzling as you coughed up green bubbles. clyde burst into a fit of laughter as he shoved himself back into you. “what a party trick, dude.” clyde grabbed a fistful of your hair, aggressively fucking your throat, completely losing control of himself.

you gazed up at him through tear-filled eyes as your lips swelled around him. he’d always been a sucker for “blowjob eyes”, so with a few more lazy thrusts he shot hot strings of his seed onto your face, painting on you like you were a pretty picture.

as you received your facial, kappa exclaimed out a string of curses, as you feel your pussy swell as it filled with cum. euronymous’ balls slapped against your clit as he pounded into you, his fingernails digging into your ass as he lost himself in this moment of pure bliss. as hit orgasm hit like a ton of bricks, he yanked himself out of you, pumping himself quickly as shooting his load all over your arched back.

jack took this opportunity to give it his all, now fucking you rapidly in the ass. you cried into the mattress, loads of cum squirting out of your swollen pussy as he destroyed your insides. “o-oh yeah… good fucking girl…” he reached a hand down and started rubbing messy circles on your puffy clit, making your ass clench as he reached his climax.

he groaned deeply, his body shaking enough the snap the elastic band holding his hair up, sending his full strands all over his face. he used you to milk every last drop out of himself before pulling out and examining your sore hole.

you were a total mess, tears running down your face as they all released you at once. you panted heavily, the room spinning as your eyes fluttered shut. your pussy throbbed from the overstimulation, your entire feeling satisfied despite how worn out you were. in this moment, you felt cold leather draping over your bare body, euronymous’ jacket. clyde lit the small candle on the bedside table with his lighter to keep you warm, jack took one of the hair ties on his wrist and pulled your hair out of your face, putting it into a pretty ponytail, tyler pulled a pink lollipop out of his pocket, putting it in your gentle grip. and kappa’s contribution was a soft kiss on the cheek.

they left you in the cool, drafty room, leaving you with an aching body but a very fulfilled heart.

(little drawing of the position yall are in.)

author's note: writing gangbangs is so hard but I love a challenge!

[holybibly]

These are my unholy hours

I'm pretty sure that San is one of the members who really wants to have sex after the concert. He's got too much adrenaline and horny energy in him, even though he's physically tired. He needs it badly.

Even after leaving the stage, San could still feel the wild rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. His whole body was vibrating with the excitement and need he had felt throughout the concert, making it difficult at times for him to concentrate on his surroundings. He was completely distracted by the thought of how he was going to fuck you when it was all over. He was so into the idea that he wouldn't have minded if he had to get you down on all fours in the middle of the changing room while the other members were still there. After all, he never seemed to mind being watched. 

God, he was in need of you like hell. And he needed you now. 

As soon as they could leave the stage, San grabbed your arm and pushed you into the next dressing room, kissing everything he could get his hands on. The situation you now found yourself in wasn't new at all; you were kneeling before him, licking his hard cock sweetly, while San tried his best to keep quiet. He's always been such a damn loud boy, moaning and groaning, never able to keep his mouth shut, telling you all the time how good he feels and how much he loves you. And you're totally enjoying it, despite the fact that you've had to soundproof the whole flat to muffle all those endless pleas and long, melodic moans.

You weren't at all worried that one of the members might have caught you; you were more worried that the staff might wonder where the hell San was if he still had a VIP appointment with the fans and would be on the lookout for him. But when San grabbed you by the hair and pushed his cock deeper into your warm, welcoming mouth, that thought went completely out of your head. 

"Yeah, baby, that's right. Take some more." He whispered, panting slightly.  His head was thrown back, his mouth was open, and sweat was dripping down his neck and down his gorgeously muscled chest, making him so delicious and fuckable. He held your head still as his hard cock slid over your tongue until the head was in contact with the back of your throat. You gave a muffled moan around his thick girth, sending pleasurable vibrations through the sensitive velvet flesh. San had to bite his lip to keep the loud, prolonged moan from escaping his lips. You always knew how to make his head spin. 

"Oh fuck, YN." He was already on the verge, thrusting his hips harder as your tongue wrapped around him in a hot, wet caress. Fuck, he's going to come too fast if you don't stop. Fuck. So he quickly pulled his cock out of your mouth, all shiny and wet from your saliva and copious pre-cum. San pulled you up aggressively, lifted you off his lap, and planted a dirty kiss on your lips. He was the kind of man who preferred long, deep kisses, but there was no time for that now, and it made him whimper pitifully. "Later," San promised himself. "He'll kiss you properly later, when you're at home, tangled up in the sheets with his cock up to your balls. It is definitely an excellent plan.

"Bend over for me, baby; I need you so bad." His sultry voice scorched the tender skin on the side of your ear, and his lips left air kisses on the graceful shape of the lobe. 

Leaning over one of the makeup tables, you easily complied. San quickly pulled up your skirt, cursing under his breath at the sight that you had no underwear at all. 

"Fuck, you've been without your panties the whole time, baby. You're so slutty." He chuckled softly before giving you a light slap on your wet pussy. You managed to cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the needy whimper that was bursting out of you at the sight of his action. Feeling how wet and ready you are for him, San runs his fingers along your folds. 

His perfect little girl. 

"You're so wet for me; is it because you sucked me off, or are you just a slut in need of attention? You need my cock so bad. Don't you, baby?" San's mockery is in spite of the fact that it was he who had you here in the first place. As the head of his cock rubs against your folds, hitting your sensitive clit a few times, all you can do is nod and whimper. 

San does not give you any warning before he slowly slips it into your little pussy. Both of you hiss as he does so: you at the way his thick girth stretches your velvety walls, and San at how sensitive he already was and the way your pussy squeezes around him, almost restricting any movement at all. You were still fucking tight, no matter how many times he fucked you.

"You have to be quiet, baby. Do you understand? When we get home, I'm going to fuck you good, but for now, you need to be obedient and take what you're given. Got that?" 

You nodded, but that wasn't the answer he had in mind. San slapped your thigh hard, the mark of his palm standing out like a bright red stain compared to your milky skin. 

"Use your words." It was a silent command.

"Yes, yes, I understand you, San." You wanted to come across as collected and cold-blooded, but all you got out of it was a pathetic sob. 

"That's my little girl." He said this before he started to move. A push was all it took for you to feel how your legs were starting to weaken. God, he sure did know how to make use of those hips. Smooth rolling over and over, getting stronger and stronger until it developed into a steady, deep rhythm. You let out soft, panting moans with each powerful thrust, trying hard to hide them, the palm pressed over your mouth doing nothing. 

"San..." You whimpered as his fingers dug painfully into your thighs as he held you in place. The sounds of sex are always recognisable, so if anyone walked by, they would immediately guess what was going on behind the closed dressing room door.

San wrapped his arm around your neck and gave it a light squeeze. 

"I told you to keep quiet, didn't I, darling?" He leaned over you and pressed his muscular chest against your back, his hot breath brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. Fuck, what you'd give to be able to sink your teeth into those magnificent muscles right now? You wanted to lick him clean like a piece of candy.

"I'll be quiet, I promise." You really don't want to upset him, but the way his cock is sliding all over you in all the right places is making it all the more difficult. 

San doesn't say anything else as he begins to leave wet, purple hickeys on the back of your neck, driving deeper and deeper into your supple body. 

He knew you would keep quiet because you were always trying to be a good girl for him. San was starting to move faster and faster, making it harder for you to stay quiet for him, but you were still trying hard not to make a single squeak.

"You're such a slut, letting me fuck you in the dressing room in front of everyone. Did I turn you on that much, Kitty? You were thinking about me while I was up there on the stage, weren't you? I could have fucked you right there on the stage, and it wouldn't have been a problem for you. You're just a needy little girl who can't wait for her handsome boyfriend to fill her up with his thick cock, aren't you?" San whispered in a sultry voice, his thrusts getting harder with each sentence. You couldn't even answer him; you were too consumed with pleasure. The only thing that was holding you up now was San's hands on your hips. "You're such a slut, Y/N." As your walls tightened around him in response to the dirty words San whispered into your ear, a loud moan escaped his soft lips.

He comes out of you in an abrupt way, turns you around, and lifts you up so that you can wrap your legs around his small waist. Immediately picking up the same pace as before, San slides back into your pussy. Your hands cling tightly to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin, leaving red, angry marks that you'll lick up later when you get home, and you warm his cock sweetly in your pussy as you bathe together. 

San's arm wraps around your neck again and crushes you to death. He has always loved to see how you inhale softly, how your eyes roll back in your head, and how you become so soft and docile in his arms.  The change in position caused his cock to enter you at a new angle, the head of it hitting a super-sensitive lump of nerves each time, sending you to the heavens with each sharp thrust of his hips. 

"God, San, I'm gonna come." You whimpered and pressed your lips against his neck. A scattering of seductive freckles beckoned you to leave as many kisses there as possible. 

"Don't you dare do that. You will wait for me, and you will cum with me. Do you understand?"  You were on the verge of tears; your orgasm was so close, you could almost taste it. Your hips were starting to shake, everything was getting blurry, and you could feel that you were starting to lose touch with reality.

"Please... San, I can't stand it any longer." You are practically on the verge of suffocation now.  "You can cum, but I'll still use your pussy." It didn't matter to you so much. Your eyes rolled back and your teeth clenched into San's shoulder to muffle the loud scream of his name as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. A loud squelching filled the room along with jets of fluid spurting from your pussy, soaking San's trousers and onto his shirt. God damn it, he loves it when you squirt. 

"Well done." He praises you, kisses the curve of your neck, and increases the amplitude of his thrusts as he fucks you deep and hard. San did it really well; he knew how to make you squeal.

"You like being a little slut for me, don't you? Just a toy for me, to be used for my own pleasure. You're always so ready; your pussy is always wet for me. My darling, all you want is for me to use you." With these last words, his thrusts became sharper and more aggressive than before. "Now I'll just use you as a cock sleeve because that's all you are. My beautiful bitch that I can use any way I want to and any place I want to."

You could feel the overstimulation hitting you; it was almost burning you from the inside out, mixing the pleasure and the pain into a searing, intoxicating cocktail. But if it was San's intention to take advantage of you, you were at his beck and call. 

San pressed your breasts against his, his soft lips in contact with the nape of your neck. 

"God, I'm going to fill you up, damn it. I want everyone to know that you belong to me." He growls as he bites down hard on your neck. You know he's going to suck on that spot like a leech afterwards, kissing it and licking it with an endless stream of apologies. 

He let out a low moan as he came into you, and you sobbed, twitching weakly in his arms as you felt his hot, viscous cum fill you. 

"San, I feel so fucking good when I am with you." You moan as you run your fingernails over the fuckable shoulders that have driven millions of groupies to madness. 

San takes a moment to recover and pulls out of you. He watches in awe as his sperm starts to dribble out of you. San picks up his cum with his fingers and smears it over your swollen folds before he pushes it back into the hole he has used up. You try your best not to squirm, but San makes it impossible for you to do so.

When you start to whimper, he finally stops playing with his cum and gives you a gentle kiss on the lips. God, he's so goddamn sweet; you're so crazy about him. 

"Thank you, baby. I needed that so much." San murmurs against your lips. 

"Anything for you, Sannie. Now let's get out of here; everyone's probably looking for you. Hongjoong is going to be so pissed off when he finds out about this."

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

HAUNTED

Pairing.| Jackson Ripnner x fem!reader

Summary.| The way you haunt Jackson’s body, mind and soul always fuels him with adrenaline to show you who you belong to.

Warnings.| p in v, 69, rough sex.

Word Count.| 3k

Notes.| Inspired by Haunted by Beyonce. Also, this isn't noncon or dubcon, wild. I can't stop writing for Jackson even if I wanted to, sorry.

When you laid eyes on him, your heart skipped a beat and cheeks automatically turned a shade darker. Even though you knew he would be here, the proof being the combination of his captivating blue eyes and shaggy brunette hair set your sensations ablaze. Even though he was sitting across the room, legs spread on the bar stool, Jackson had no shame in watching you. He always wanted to be seen by you. His typical, simple matching black trousers and jacket, with a white shirt poking out underneath always did wonders on you. 

The man with his arm draped around you would be dead on the spot if he went any further. But the idea of seeing how far Jackson would go for you certainly felt tempting after how many glasses of champagne you’ve already consumed this evening. Even though he kept his appearances composed, you just knew he was a unhinged maniac when fueled by desire. 

You continued on with your night, engaging in conversation with a small group of friends of yours. There was no rush, you were staying at the hotel the venue was in. You enjoyed your night, more importantly you enjoyed the set of eyes that burnt through the back of your skull. As you took your last sip and straightened out your silk red dress, you farewelled to your friends and departed without another word. 

He had disappeared from the bar now, a knowing smirk grew on your lips. The both of you managed to travel often, for distinctively different reasons, but you just knew he wouldn’t not appear in Paris, the city of love.

When you entered the elevator, you didn’t acknowledge how Jackson was already in there, all leant up in the corner as his eyes nibbled on every bare inch of your skin. The silence was loud, tension almost piercing. It was a shock that neither one of you pounced onto the other like a starved tiger. You can’t say that it hadn’t happened before. 

You sway down the hallway. There was no discretion, he was following behind you as if you were dating. As you opened your room door, you kept the door open with your fingertips only for a second before he caught the heavy wood from locking him out.

Before you could even place down your glitter purse, Jackson slammed your front to the wall, his body pressed against you in a hungry manner as he inhaled your sweet scent. He was completely obsessed with how rough he could be with you. Never once had you complained, whined, acted like a little brat. You were his good girl despite your confident front. 

“I warned you not to fall in love with me” you chuckled, cherry lipstick smudging against the plaster. His rough hands gripped onto your hips.  

“What makes you think I’d do such a silly thing?” Jackson chuckled back.

“You came, did you not?” You remarked confidently. 

Jackson snickered softly and pressed his lips to your warm cheek as his hands massaged your ass. It was without question how your back was arched and your neck craned back. As he nuzzled the side of your face with his nose, he breathed out. 

“You send an invite in the mail or something?” Jackson teased quietly. 

“I know you stalk me, watch my every move practically” you stated, in almost a tone of pride.

“It’s hard not to” Jackson admitted shamelessly.

You were in his dreams every night. Haunting him with the thought of your touch. Every night he couldn’t fall asleep quick enough to feel you, relive your perfect moments together. Everytime he woke up, he initially believed he could feel you in the sheets. It was a major distraction at work, he couldn’t lie. Yet you were motivating him to get the job done so he could find his way back to you. 

“Did you miss me?” You asked flirtatiously as he led you to the white king sized bed. 

“I’m here, aint I?” Jackson replied bluntly as he slid off his jacket. 

You fell onto the bed and smiled. His denial of emotions and vulnerability was always cute. You haunted him in that way, the idea of wanting to be welcomed angered him. The misogynistic front always leaked his desperate need for comfort and warmth. You were certain that if you were to disappear from the face of the earth, he’d be driven into an emotional insanity whilst looking for you until the day he died. 

“You haven’t cashed in any of my checks yet” Jackson almost snorted as he unbuttoned his shirt. 

“I don’t need your money Jackson” you sighed as you bent over to unlatch your heels. 

However, he stopped you by dropping to his knees. As he smiled to you softly, he unbuckled the thin straps and slipped off your shoes. All whilst making sure to have his fingers brush against your skin. He slipped off his own shoes

“Don’t say something cheesy like I just need you” Jackson chuckled, his eyes swiftly snapped up to catch your initial reaction. 

“Never” you grinned. 

“Good” Jackson nodded, a satisfied look on his lips. 

Within a snap, Jackson had pounced on top of you, pinning you effortlessly to the bed. His eyes were two tiny clouds of lust and arousal as his mouth quickly watered at the idea of tasting you. Roughly, he took your face in one hand, moving you around from side to side just because he could. 

Jackson’s back arched as he lowered his body to you. A mixture of passion and viciousness erupted through your kiss. You tugged off his shirt and ran your acrylic nails up and down his firm back in a teasing manner. Shamelessly, he enjoyed it when you drew blood.  

“Well, I have some time off work and-” 

“What do you do for work by the way?” You cut him off accidentally, curiosity jumped in front of your manners. 

You knew he did nothing good. That sweet face could fool many women, but not you. The moment you saw him, you knew he was a bad man. Most of the time you steered clear. But that face felt worth the risk. The city light night ride of adrenaline, thrill, anticipation and sensation was more addictive than any drug that you have ever taken. 

“I’d say finance but I don’t want to lie to you” Jackson answered, a mischief grin on his lips. 

“I’m fine with that” you smiled. 

“Anyways, before you rudely interrupted me. I was thinking of stealing you away” Jackson made known, his hands roamed over your neck until he found the latch to your glitter collar. 

“For how long?” you hummed, eyes lighting up with excitement of disappearing with him for a while. 

“Until I’m satisfied enough to be able to watch you leave” Jackson murmured as he threw your jewelry off of the bed.

Eagerly and desperately, Jackson sucked at your bare neck. It always looked like a piece of art when you’d wake up with love bites all over your skin. You moaned out, your hands reached his coarse hair and typically you found yourself tugging at his roots. 

“I don’t want to go anywhere that I’ve been before” you answered softly. 

“But I thought that you love the north of Italy” he snickered. 

“Never told you that” you said bluntly. 

“I know” Jackson replied with the same tone. “Alright, how about the south of France since we’re already here?” Jackson suggested, his sneaky hands were sliding your spaghetti straps off without you even realizing. 

“Been there” you clicked your tongue. 

“I’m almost certain you haven’t been where I have been” Jackson shot back, a confident look locked on. 

“You take all of your girls there?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

Jackson stilled momentarily whilst poking his tongue in his cheek in defeat. You smiled with boldness. As he gently rubbed your cheek, Jackson chuckled at you.     

“Touche” he replied quietly. 

Jackson hummed dramatically whilst he scrunched up your dress from the bottom. As you lifted your upper body from the mattress enough for him to slip off your dress, Jackson swore he could have finished on the spot at the remembrance of your beauty. He found it so hard to believe. For he was always certain he knew your body perfectly. Yet, with every counter, your beauty has found a new way to evolve. 

“What about the Virgin Islands?” Jackson proposed, his hands massaged your soft naked breasts. 

“Been there” you sighed heavily in disappointment, maybe he wasn’t as obsessed with you as you believed. 

“I’m talking about the British, not the U.S. sweetheart” Jackson snorted lightly. 

Your eyes lit with interest. Sure, you’ll give him that one. The last time you were there was as a teenager. Even though it was already definite, you were sure that it would be a trip to remember. Not that you predicted you’d really be doing anything besides having Jackson’s cock deep inside of you. 

“I’m intrigued” you agreed. 

“Good, we’ll leave tomorrow” Jackson finalized as he leant up, legs still straddling your hips. 

“Tomorrow? Come on baby, let’s enjoy the city of love first” you teased, your hand shot up to stroke the section of his belly right above the massive bulge in his pants. 

“Suppose we could spend a couple of days here… But I warn you, you’ll be tied to the bed for most of it” Jackson nodded his head as he slipped his belt out from the loops of his pants. 

“I like that idea” you murmured.

As he fell back over you, the belt smacked onto the mattress right besides your head. Oh how largely he smirked by your nonexistent flinch. You were fucking crazy, but he had you on a leash. Yet most of the time he didn’t even feel the need to hold onto it, because he knew you’d always obey.

His intimidating stare meant nothing to you. For everyone else, it was always a power play. But you knew for you it was just foreplay. Jackson could never hurt you, unless you wanted it. Fortunately enough for him, you did, a lot. 

Jackson ordered for you to put your hands together, which you did with no hesitation. Once your wrists were bound together, you rested them over your chest. A series of heavy breaths left his lips, he always felt like a wild beast when he saw you tied up in any way. 

“I want to feel your mouth, Jackson” you whispered seductively. 

“Funny, I wanted your mouth on me too” Jackson exhaled as he sat beside you to slide off his trousers. 

“We could make that work” you giggled as your knees raised up. After a squeeze of satisfaction to his bulge, Jackson pulled down his briefs and tossed them off the bed. 

You’re pulled flat on your back directly in the middle of the bed. The sixty-nine position was always funny with Jackson. His ego demanded that he remained on top, always. The tip of his cock teased your mouth, you eagerly tried to eat him up but you couldn’t whip your tongue around him quick enough. 

When Jackson finished his little teasing game, he lined up his length to your mouth and you quickly pushed up a few inches deep. His cock was a fucking masterpiece. The perfect length and girth to spark every nerve in your body. It would be more addictive than a drug at this point. You always wanted his cock hidden inside of you. 

You became so focused on sucking his cock that you didn’t even realize that he hadn’t even touched your dripping cunt yet. Your legs squirmed from side to side, eyes rolled all the way back through a paralysis of pleasure. Jackson tugged your soaked thong to your knees as his hips rocked in a graceful pace. 

“Always take my cock so fucking well” Jackson praised through a grunt, his fingers rolled over your sensitive folds, which made you yelp around his size. 

Jackson chuckled before he latched his mouth onto your outer entrance. Always tasted so fucking sweet, like a rich chocolate cake topped with whipped cream. His tongue poked out into your warmth, it always felt so cold at first. Jackson’s tongue game was always sinister, you had worn that he had cracked the code to cheat at the game. For that cannot possibly be taught and no one’s amateur skills are that good. 

Typically, you came quickly around Jackson’s mouth. He lapped up every drip of your orgasm as you surfed the tidal wave of pleasure. The muffled moans always sent bone trembling vibrations around Jackson’s body. 

As your body slumped into a post orgasm bliss, Jackson pulled his cock out of your mouth. Through your heavy, long blinks, you found your back sunken into the mattress, hips lifted from the surface with your knees almost pressed above your shoulders. 

Easily, Jackson slipped his cock deep inside your warmth, he groaned out loudly, swearing underneath his breath. Your cunt truly was paradise. The solution to all of his issues was right here, inside of you. Jackson was convinced your pussy was perfectly designed for him. For your walls wrapped around his length at the perfect tightness, slick coated him so sensually. 

His sweet words snapped you out of your sexually peaceful state. “Such a good girl for me always. Aren’t you my love?” Jackson asked, in a heavy condescending tone as he snapped his hips in and out of you. 

My love, the closest thing to a love confession you may ever be able to rip out of him. Oh, how obsessively you loved him, There was nothing more that you craved than him, he was always on your mind. You’d do anything for him, even if it was a vague idea from him. 

You tried to reach up to kiss him, but he shoved your head back onto the mattress. Like always, his hand slipped around your throat as he squeezed roughly. You choked out, eyes forced to swell with tears as he focused on fucking you hard. 

“Could stay buried in you for days” Jackson moaned as his balls slapped against your rear. 

“Do it then” you managed to spit out, face turning completely red. You gasped out for air as his hand retreated suddenly. 

“And you claim that I’m in love with you” Jackson mocked softly, his thrust slowed down. 

If you were to be honest, you had fallen for him after your first night together. But the implications made you believe it was a one night stand. So, you tried to continue with your fun. Unfortunately, no other guy felt the same anymore. It was draining and saddening. It felt impossible for a stranger to know your body better than you did yourself. So, when you found those blue eyes again, you knew you had to dig your nails into him (literally). 

“You are” you heaved, squinting hard as you breathed heavily through your nostrils. 

“You haunt me” Jackson answered, his hand now caressing your aching skin. 

A strong squeeze erupted around Jackson’s length which made his eyes roll back. “You haunt me” you copied, your words encouraged by nothing but honesty. 

“As I should” Jackson laughed, his thumb rubbing over your sensitive bean.

“Jackson!” you screamed out, a pleasure filled smile on your lips. 

“Who do you belong to?” Jackson asked sternly, his thrusts were slow yet hard. 

“Myself” you dared to say. 

His cock completely exited your slippery cunt to be forced back in brutally. You cried out, but he managed to hit your cervix so you felt your thighs tremble. Those bright blue eyes never felt darker as he glared into your soul. 

“Tell me, I know you haven't forgotten…” Jackson growled. 

“No” you gasped, your lips formed in a cheeky manner. 

Jackson buried himself completely inside of you, you winced from the pain of his size stretching you wide. Your lower lip trembled in pain, eyelashes battered at him whilst you rubbed your hands to his chest. He slapped you on your cheek, hard. But your velvety walls couldn’t help back to clench around him. 

“Come on, playing hard to get when I’m already balls deep?” Jackson laughed loudly, teasing you by wiggling his hips from side to side. 

“Maybe” you grunted, eyes raised to the ceiling. 

Jackson kissed the corner of your mouth. Your eyes returned focus onto him. He looked so kind, charming and compelling. Mouth ajar open, sweat filled hair parted side to side. 

“Please, my love” Jackson whispered before he kissed your lips softly. 

“Oh Jackson” you moaned out with your lips still pressed together. 

“My love…” he murmured as he nuzzled your noses together. 

“You, always you” you confessed

“Atta girl” Jackson smiled in satisfaction as his hips took off like a sprinter. 

Your walls squeezed in a faultless rhythm. The tip of his cock brushed over your cervix with each thrust. Jackson smiled softly, nodding his head in approval for you to climax yet again. You couldn’t jump off of the cliff to land into another ocean of pure sensation. 

You were so compelled by your own orgasm, that you didn’t even notice his load fill you up completely. Jackson nibbled onto your shoulder as he moaned out. Jackson’s body slumped over you, the bed completely dipped in the body as you both fell a slave to your climaxes. 

Eventually, Jackson pulled out of you and sat on the edge of the bed, his hand brushed through his damp hair. You laid exhaustively on the bed, eyes lingered over his bare pale back. With a deep inhale, Jackson stood up and looked over his shoulder. 

“Stay here, I’ll get the bath ready” he spoke softly before bee lining to the ensuite. 

As if you ever wanted to ever leave him. You watched him from the doorway, smiling like a child with an ice cream as you admired him turn on the faucet. As the steam lingered out of the ensuite, Jackson returned. Carefully, he freed your hands and carried you towards the hot bath. 

His touch, affection, possessiveness and ownership haunted you eternally, yet you never wanted to escape this nightmare.

[mysaintkitten]

idek what to title this, i’ve been procrastinating and i’ve been thinking about capa so now we’re here.

prompt: needy reader and needy capa get it on (18+, MINORS DNI !!)

WARNINGS: kind of subby!capa ?? (he’s just so horny), oral (f receiving), veryyyyy temporary mutual masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v)

*not proofread*

it had been months, no, years, since you’d been intimate with anyone. prior to joining icarus II, you weren’t exactly getting too much action. but now that you’re out in space with limited people and a very stressful job at hand? you had essentially become celibate, whether you liked it or not.

it was easy to manage at first. no one on board really peaked your interest— besides capa. he’s handsome, smart, funny if he’s in the right mood, overall not too shabby. and since you had very few others to gawk at, it made capa stand out a lot more.

the harder you started to crush on capa, the more difficult things became. not only could you not have sex, you could barely get off. the only true privacy you get is in the shower and even then you can only be in there for a limited time, so there’s no point in wasting water.

then when you were assigned to work with capa full time, you reached your tipping point. you’d spend hours alone with him, working, sometimes talking, but working for the most part.

but, during an unusually slow and boring day, you and him talked for what felt like hours. you even got comfortable enough to open up about your desire for intimacy, although you hoped that it wouldn’t come off as to desperate or “slutty” (as if being a slut really matters at this point in time).

capa opened up too, he wasn’t as open as you were willing to be, but he was vulnerable enough. he’d been struggling too. really, everyone was probably struggling in that sense, but it felt nice to be validated by capa in a way.

things started to get a bit ‘playful’ between you and capa, you kept it hidden as best you could, but when you were alone together you were sweet and a bit affectionate. of course, nothing wild, but little things like playing footsie, hand holding, even hugs. that’s all you allowed yourself to indulge in for the first little while.

but one night, when everyone was asleep, you and capa snuck into a vacant observation room. initially, you had intentions of only talking, but that was shut down almost immediately.

you and capa giggled like children as you locked the door behind you, feeling a rush of adrenaline despite not doing anything explicitly wrong. as you place your back against the wall while smiling kindly at capa, you notice his demeanour has changed. he isn’t giggling, and he’s still smiling, but for a different reason.

“you know, i’ve been thinking ..” capa murmurs as he slinks his body closer, leaning on his shoulder directly beside you. “if we’re smart about this, i think we can both get something that we want. and no one would have to know.”

“what do you mean?” you question with a confused face, although you already have an inkling as to what he’s hinting at.

capa smirks and caresses your palm with the pads of his fingers “you know ..”

your eyes go wide at his confirmation. you want to feel him so badly, but it’s too risky. a moment of pleasure doesn’t outweigh a lifetime of regret.

“capa, i don’t know if we should ..” you whisper, fighting your urge to push him down and fuck him right then and there.

“we can be good about this!” he pleads, inching himself closer and turning his body to where his chest is nearly touching yours. “we’ll be fine, you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?”

you feel yourself becoming flustered, you struggle to look capa in the eyes. they’ve become darker, slowly but surely filling with lust.

“i am.” you reply with a swallow,

“yes, you are.” he agrees, brushing stray hairs from out of your face. “so come on. and we’ll probably work better without all this pent up energy, huh?”

your heart starts to race and a heat between your legs begins to form, “yeah .. that makes sense ..”

“mhm.” he purrs, his body now flush against yours, you can feel his bulge straining through the fabric. “can i kiss you?”

you nod, lips slightly agape. he brings his lips to yours, moaning quietly at the sensation of your soft lips against his. the kiss quickly becomes heated with capa trailing his hands down your body. his touches are sexual, but they have a hint of curiosity to them. it’s been so long since he’s been this close to a woman.

how they feel, how they taste, how they smell, he’d almost started to forget it. but with you here, it’s all flooding back to him now, and he can tell his body is slipping into a primal-like overdrive. he feels your pheromones are nearly intoxicating to him.

“feel like a teenager again ..” capa giggles breathlessly between kisses. you decide to get handsy as well and place your hands on his back, feeling up his shoulder blades and spine.

“fuck ..” he mewls, “need more ..”

he dropped to his knees and began to pull your shorts and underwear down, promptly revealing yourself to him. you hadn’t been anticipating any sort of sexual contact, so you weren’t exactly groomed to your liking. if you had known this was going to happen you would’ve shaved for him, but alas.

“i’m sorry i’m not exactly .. bald ..” your voice trails off as you blush, dancing around what you actually wanted to say. you were afraid the faint hair may put him off, but it didn’t, not in the slightest.

“i don’t care .. fuck, i don’t care ..” he groaned, nearly whining at the simple sight of you being bare right in front of his eyes. he runs his dry hands up your thighs, gripping the soft skin gently. while panting from pure arousal, he begins to kiss your thighs, occasionally looking up at you with an infatuated glare in his eye. like you were some sort of god to him at that moment.

“you’re a woman.” he breathed, it rolled off his tongue like a praise. he continued to kiss along your thighs, inching closer and closer to your aching core. it had been so long since you’d been touched, let alone ate out. your knees nearly gave out from anticipation.

you card your fingers through his hair as you watch him, his breath getting heavier and heavier with each passing moment. while making eye contact with you, he begins to kiss your needy cunt. slowly switching from wet pecks to desperate licks. he moaned at your taste, gripping your ass as he pushed your hips against his face harder.

“c-capa-“ you whimper at his eagerness and the sudden wave of pleasure. with a hum, he brought his tongue to your hole to lap up any and all of your spilling arousal, using his nose to stimulate your clit.

“tastes fuckin’ incredible ..” he admitted, quickly resuming his licks and sucks. what he lacked in skill he made up for in passion and eagerness, he wanted to make you feel so good, and it was clear by the way he whined and huffed against you.

“i missed having good pussy on my tongue.” he chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. you yelp at the slight sting, but it quickly shifts into a moan as he nips at your sensitive inner thighs. “i could eat you all goddamn night, but i need a little relief of my own, baby.”

you feel yourself becoming slicker as capa begins to tug off his pants, his flushed member standing to attention. as soon as his cock is freed, he begins to weakly pump it for you. his eyes scanning up and down your body as he basks in your feminine presence.

copying his behaviour, you slowly begin to play with your clit, watching how he sighs and slouches at the gesture, clearly enjoying the show.

“could i ride you?” you blurt out, almost embarrassingly fast, your arousal clouding your thought process. no point in pretending anymore, you want to fuck him and you want to do it now.

“fuck, please.” he begs, he sounds pathetic, but that only further enables your arousal, knowing you have a man on his knees begging for you.

you push his shoulders back gently so he’s laying against the cold floor, as he lays back you straddle his lap and begin to roll your hips against his member. you and capa both moan at the sensation, capa balls his fists up and begins to rut against you as well. at this point, you’re just grinding against each other raw.

“baby ..” he pants, dipping his head back for a moment. your stomach tingles at the pet name. “if we keep doing this ‘m gonna come.”

while biting your lip, you raise your hips and align his tip with your opening, teasing him slightly before lowering yourself down into him. you gasp at the fullness, while capa groans at your warmth.

“could i-i, fuck, could i see your tits?” he whines as he involuntarily thrusts up into you, he feels like he can’t control himself at this point. every ounce of his being is burning with arousal.

you lift your hips up and ride him, meeting his thrusts. while you ride him, you shakily lift up your top. you leave the shirt on but bundle up the fabric above your tits, for some reason it feels hotter that way.

capa groans and plants his feet on the floor, holding your hips in place as he fucks up into you harshly.

“o-oh fu-uck!” you sob as capa pounds into that sensitive spot from within you, hastily you bring your hand between your legs to rub your clit. both of you knew this wouldn’t last long, so you just want to enjoy it while you can.

capa feels like his brain is melting, he doesn’t know where to look. he can either watch your tits bounce with each thrust, he can watch your pretty little face contort with pleasure, or he can watch his cock slide in and out of your heavenly cunt. he can’t settle on one, so he eagerly switches between each of them.

“you’re so fuckin’ wet ..” he choked as he watched his member glisten with your arousal. since being on icarus II, capa began to dream of situations like this. it was normally faceless women, but he was absolutely feigning for some tight wet pussy, despite how much he tried to hide it.

“don’t stop— please ..” you huff. you know capa won’t stop, he’s too far gone to quit now, yet the words still fell from your mouth. you haven’t felt so good in so long, you don’t want it to end.

“won’t stop.” capa slurs as his thighs shake from exhaustion, “fuck. can’t stop stop, baby, feels too fucking good.”

your orgasm begins to build up from within you. both you and capa are shaky, sweaty, desperate, and close. you place a hand behind you for stability and dig your nails into capa’s knee as he thrusts into you, your other hand still stimulating your clit as best you can.

capas cheeks are flushed, his pupils are blown, and plush lips hang agape. you want to tell him he looks gorgeous, but you can’t seem to find the words to at the moment.

“‘m getting close.” he hissed as his grip on your hips got tighter, “come on my cock. please, baby. i need to feel it. please.” capa rambles mindlessly, you’ve felt like an absolute dream the entire time but the sight and sensation of you coming undone on his cock would be the cherry on top.

“yes, yes, yes-“ you gasp as your orgasm finally breaks through you, the stimulation on your clit comes to a stop but capa continues to fuck into you as you come for him. you release a loud, guttural moan at the pleasure. mere seconds after, capas whining beneath you about how close he is and how pretty you look when you come.

after pulling out, capa feverishly pumps himself and quickly spills his load onto your ass and his thighs while groaning and whimpering.

you shakily slide off his lap and sit on the cold floor beside him. while attempting to fix your appearance, you both giggle at what you had just done. since it had been so long, it felt almost innocent. just two desperate people who wanted to feel each others bodies.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” capa asks while attempting to catch his breath

“tomorrow?” you raise your brows, “you want to make this a routine?”

capa laughs, “you shouldn’t have given me a taste, baby, now i’m going to keep crawling back for more.”

—

sorry, had horny capa thoughts, can you really blame me tho.