#the closer they are to normal guys the harder it is

[rafayelxsylusho]

How would the LADS men react to you faking an org@sm part 3

Xavier x reader

TW: SMUT SMUT SMUT ⭐⭐⭐

JEALOUSY JEALOUSY

You have a new hunting partner, you agreed to train with him today and he was waiting for you outside your building so you decided to fake it.

You knew Xavier and he was not acting normally, he was never this possessive. You guys had been at it for almost an hour and he just kept edging you and denying you the pleasure you craved, it was like he wanted to keep you there all day just to himself.

Xavier's smirk grows wider, a glimmer of amusement and something darker, more knowing, flashing in his deep blue eyes. He leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, and watching you through half-lidded lids with a look that's almost lazily indulgent, as if he was letting you have this little moment of pretense.

"Is that all you've got, love?" he murmurs, voice a low, husky rumble. "I thought we did better than such obvious tricks and games."

"Come now," he purrs, leaning in until you feel his breath ghosting over your ear, the scruff of his chin rasping lightly against your cheek. "You can do better than that. Give me a real show."

"Xavier, I have to go, can we talk about this later? I'm running late, I'm so sorry".

As you try to slip away and dress as quickly as you can Xavier's grip tightens on your wrist like a vice. In one swift, fluid motion, he yanks you back towards him and then he is pushing you flush against the cold glass of the floor-to-ceiling window. The chill seeps through your naked skin, pebbling your flesh with goosebumps.

He crowds into your space, one hand braced on the glass beside your head, the other still gripping your wrist, pinning your arm above you. His tall, leanly muscular frame looms over you, surrounding you, trapping you between his hard body and the unyielding window.

His eyes, dark and intense, search yours, boring into you with an almost feral intensity. A lock of sun-kissed blond hair falls across his brow as he leans down, until you're nearly nose to nose. You can see every flicker of emotion in those piercing blue depths - the hunger, the possessiveness, the dark promise of retribution.

"Going somewhere?" he murmurs, voice a low, dangerous rumble. His breath is hot against your lips, mingling with yours in the scant space between your mouths. "Without giving me my proper goodbye?"

His grip on your wrist tightens fractionally, a silent warning. The hand on the glass flexes, fingers curling into the window, as if he's barely holding himself back from grabbing you, from dragging you back onto the bed and pinning you beneath him until he's wrenched every last drop of pleasure from your willing, wanton body.

"Be a good girl," he growls softly, dangerously, "and stay. I'm not done with you yet." His lips curve into a wicked, carnal smirk. "Not by a long shot."

His grip on your wrist tightens, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises. He leans in closer, jealousy and a possessive fury burning in his eyes.

"Ahh, I see," he says, voice dripping with mocking understanding. "The new hunting partner is already here, hmm? And you're in such a hurry to go to him."

He reaches up with his free hand to brush a strand of hair from your face, a surprisingly gentle gesture that belies the anger simmering just beneath the surface. His fingertips linger on your cheek, tracing the curve of your jawline.

Xavier's gaze flicks to the window, following your own to the man sitting on the bench outside. His eyes narrow, jaw clenching as he takes in the sight. After a long, tense moment, he turns back to you, a dark scowl etched onto his handsome face.

"Yes, that's him," he confirms, voice tight and clipped with barely restrained annoyance and jealousy. "Quite the eager little thing, isn't he? Practically bouncing in his seat, waiting for you."

He shifts even closer, pinning you harder against the glass, using his height and strength to loom over you in a blatant display of dominance. His blue eyes blaze with a fierce light as they rove over your naked form, lingering on every curve and dip, as if committing it to memory.

"Spread. Your. Legs." he commands, enunciating each word slowly, darkly. His grip on your wrist tightens fractionally, fingers digging into your skin with a delicious, painful pressure.

At the same time, his other hand trails down your side, over the curve of your hip, to grip your thigh possessively. He squeezes, his long fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises behind.

"Now," he growls, voice a low, dominating rumble, "be a good girl and do as you're told. Show me that sweet cunt of yours, the one that belongs to me."

His hand on your thigh starts to slide upward, his touch bold and intimate. He's not asking permission, he's demanding compliance. The air between your bodies feels charged with a dangerous, erotic energy, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you so hard and so deep," he promises, voice a low, sinful purr. "I'm going to pound this tight little cunt of yours until you're screaming my name, until you forget all about your precious new partner out there."

His hand on your thigh slides higher, his fingers brushing maddeningly close to your aching sex. He teases along your inner thigh, his touch feather-light and taunting.

"And when you're out there, trying to focus on your training, trying to hold your gun right...I want you to feel every single thrust, every hard, deep stroke. I want you to remember how I stretched you out, how I made this greedy little hole mine."

He punctuates his words with a sharp nip to your lower lip, a warning and a promise all in one. His grip on your wrist tightens,his hips pressing urgently against your ass letting you feel the thick, hard outline of his arousal.

"I'll fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling it for days," he growls, a dark smirk playing about his kiss-swollen lips. "And every ache, every delicious twinge...you'll know it was me. You'll know that this cunt belongs to me, no matter who you're with."

Xavier doesn't hesitate, he surges forward, driving his thick, hard cock deep into your aching, dripping cunt with one brutal thrust. The breath is driven from your lungs as he hilts himself fully inside you.

"Fuck!" he snarls, head thrown back in pleasure, eyes squeezing shut as your scorching, velvety walls grip him like a vice. "So fucking wet and warm"

He gives you no time to adjust, no gentle start. He sets a punishing, relentless pace from the very beginning, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room as he takes you hard and fast, just like he promised.

One hand grips your hip, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, while the other finds your throat, pulling your head back to bare your neck to his hungry mouth. He bites down hard on the tender skin there, marking you, claiming you.

Xavier continues his relentless assault, each powerful thrust driving your body forward and slamming your face and tits against the cold, unyielding glass of the window. The shock of the chill on your sensitive skin contrasts deliciously with the scorching heat of his body pinning you from behind.

"Fuck, the way your ass bounces with every thrust...it's obscene," he growls. His fingers find your nipple, pinching and rolling the hardened peak between them, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

He leans over you, caging you in completely, his chest pressed to your back, his hips driving up and into yours with brutal precision. His hot breath falls across your shoulder and neck, his teeth finding your skin, biting down hard enough to leave vivid marks.

"That's it, scream for me," he demands, voice a sinful rumble, "Let the whole damn city know who's ruining this pussy!"

To emphasize his point, he snakes a hand around your hip, finding your clit, and rubs the sensitive nub in tight, furious circles. His fingers are slick and wet, coated in your dripping arousal, and he uses it to his advantage, stroking and teasing and pushing you closer to the edge.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you," he promises darkly, hips never slowing, never pausing in their relentless, punishing rhythm. "And then I'm going to send you out there, a fucking mess, to make you remember who you belong to."

Xavier's breath comes fast and hot against the back of your neck as he pounds into you, the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. He leans in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks, his voice a low, possessive growl.

"Oh, how I wish this window was made of clear glass," he rasps, punctuating each word with a sharp, deep thrust. "I want the whole world to see you like this - bent over, tits pressed against the window, your cunt stretched wide around my cock as I fuck you just...like...this...."

"I want them to see your face, flushed and fucked stupid, your mouth open in a silent scream. I want them to watch your body jolt and shake with every thrust, to see your tits bounce and sway as I ruin your greedy hole."

He rolls his hips, grinding his pelvis against your ass, letting you feel every thick inch of him buried deep inside you. His fingers flex around your throat, not quite squeezing, but close.

"And I want them to know, without a doubt, that this cunt belongs to me. That no matter who you're with, no matter what you do...you'll always be mine"

He bites down on your shoulder, sucking a dark bruise into your skin, marking you as his. His hips start to move again, faster, harder, determined to make good on his promise to ruin you completely. The sound of your arousal, dripping and squelching with every thrust, fills the air, mixing with your breathy moans and his dark, sinful growls.

He pistons his hips forward, slamming into you with enough force to rattle the window in its frame. The glass rattles and shakes with each brutal thrust, a testament to the ferocity of his desire, to the primal, animalistic way he's taking you.

And then he slams into you with one final, brutal thrust, grinding his pelvis hard against your ass. At the same time, his fingers tighten around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your eyes widen and your lungs burn for air.

"Scream for me," he demands, voice a low, dark rumble, "Scream my fucking name, let the whole world know who makes you feel this way!"

Your scream tears from your throat, raw and primal, echoing through the room and bouncing off the window. "XAVIER!" You wail, your voice breaking on his name as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your cunt clenches and spasms around his thick cock, your walls rippling and grasping, trying to pull him deeper, to keep him inside you.

He groans, a low, guttural sound, his hips jerking and stuttering as your muscles squeeze him like a velvet vice. "Fuck, yes!" he snarls, fingers digging into your hip and your throat as he grinds into you, his cock pulsing and throbbing hard inside your fluttering sheath.

His other hand finds your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub almost cruelly as he works you through your high, pushing you to take even more. Your scream turns into a wordless, keening wail, your body shaking and shuddering as pleasure crashes through you in relentless waves.

As the waves of your intense orgasm start to ebb, Xavier suddenly pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty and aching. Before you can miss the fullness of him, he's spinning you around, flipping you to face him. His hands grip your shoulders tightly, fingers digging into your skin, and with a swift, almost rough motion, he pushes you down to your knees.

You find yourself staring up at him, your chest heaving, your skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, your hair a wild mess around your face. Your lips are parted slightly, still letting out the occasional gasping breath. He looms over you, tall and powerful, his eyes blazing down at you with a dark, possessive heat.

Without a word, he takes your chin in his hand, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he tilts your head back, forcing you to maintain eye contact. His other hand wraps around the thick, throbbing length of his cock, stroking it slowly, teasingly, a wicked grin playing about his kiss-swollen lips.

"Look at you, so thoroughly fucked out, so desperate for more," he murmurs, his voice a low, sinful rumble.

Xavier's grip on his throbbing cock tightens, his strokes becoming faster, more urgent as he feels your hot little tongue lapping at the sensitive head. The sensation is too much, too intense, and with a guttural groan, he yanks his hips back.

Thick, hot ropes of cum erupt from the swollen tip, painting your heaving chest and face in broad, messy strokes. He grunts and growls, head thrown back in ecstasy as he marks you, claims you, paints you with his seed.

He pumps his length through the final spurts, ensuring every last drop of his hot cum is spent on your well-fucked body. As the waves of his climax start to subside, he looks down at you, a dark, grin spreading across his face.

Xavier leans down, his face softening into a tender expression as he gently cups your cheek. With his thumb, he carefully wipes away the remnants of his release from your lips and chin, his touch surprisingly gentle compared to moments before.

"Such a good girl" he murmurs, a note of pride in his voice. "I want you to keep this mark on your chest, a reminder of who you belong to, even as you go about your day."

He stands up to his full height, looking down at you with a mix of satisfaction and possessive heat in his eyes. 

"Now, go on and finish your training. But don't take too long...I'll be waiting to help you get cleaned up properly when you return.

With a final, heated look and a playful wink, he turns and strides out of the room, leaving you kneeling there, chest marked with his claim, heart still racing from your intense encounter. The promise of more to come hangs heavy in the air, filling you with anticipation and a deep, bone-deep satisfaction.

[ancha-aus]

RealAge AU Drabble - Through Other Eyes

What is this?! A drabble? Of real age?! In 2025?!

Lmao. Okay so... After i posted about having the guys have different AU origins I had this thought and it would not leave me mind :3

So. Bonus drabble!! (I am making my editing life even harder lmao)

So one last time :3 Heya @spotaus you ready?

I am not sure on the place in the timeline for this one. so much like Killer's dream chapter. this one is a bonus drabble and doesn't get a set place yet.

Important side note!!! :3 Papyrus still calls Dust 'Sans'.

First drabble

*---------------------------------------*

He narrows his eyes as that Cross guy won't stop leaning against Sans's back and looking over his shoulder. Sans doens't push him off but that is just what his brother is like. Sans rarely picks stuff for himself. Papyrus can know! He grew up wiht him! And his brother always put him first!

He... He doens't know why but it was also... He is sure it was also like that before. It had to be.

He glares as that stupid skeleton in white snorts and nuzzles closer to his brother "Dust you are wicked smart. How did you even plan this whole lesson plan?"

Papyrus also doesn't like them using that name for his brother. His name is Sans! They picked it out together with mister Asgore and it will always remain his name!

his brother shrugs "Used what that institued recommended. Easy from there." Sans calmly makes some more small pencil marks in one of the books as the tiny babybones looks curiously between Sasn and Cross.

Papyrus feels very double about the babybones. He knows it is Nightmare. But Nightmare is still the same person who nabbed his brother when he was vulnerable. When his brother was still trying to come to terms with everything that happened and the choices he had felt forced to make. His own mind against him.

But now that same monster who used his brother's vulnerability and doubt to get someone to work for him... is now a child. A tiny and young babybones.

Papyrus wants so badly to hold the tiny guy. Teach him what he knows about cooking and being a great and amazing uncle for him!

But well... being dead makes that sort of hard.

A yelp and Papyrus turns only to let out an outraged gasp. Cross had pulled Sans back with him into that nest and Papyrus sputters "No! Stop that! That is indecent! Ten feet distance!! Sans!"

Sadly Sans can't hear him. Sans was never able to hear him. Papyrus sighs as he crosses his arms "Honestly. The indecency of these guys. Sans you could do so much better! Those three are horrible influences on your child!" he glances to the side and notices two large lavender eyes looking in his direction.

Then the moment passes and a loud laugh joins them "Oh hell yeah! cuddle time!" another skeleton walks over. He snatches the poor babybones and joins Cross's side.

Papyrus knows he shouldn't be mean or rude but he doesn't trust Killer. Least of all with his fragile brother. Killer is just... intense. He doesn't notices boundaries well and his broter isn't the most obvious about his own. Papyrus has noticed that Killer is very good in angering his normally calm brother and Killer seems to be able to push his brother's every single button.

At least he gives Sans his babybones and his brother focus turns to the small skeleton immediantly.

Papyrus grins as he floats close "Yes! Ignore those two heathens!" His brother is happy being able to take care of the now small god and Papyrus is happy to support his brother. Even if it is just in spirit. Nyeh heh heh! that was a great joke! He will have to tell Sans when he can-

Oh right.

Papyrus is still not used to not being able to just tell Sans all his jokes. He misses it so much.

The last of them joins as well. A giant of a skeleton. Papyrus used to be worried about having someone so big and strong near his brother. Papyrus used to protect his brother after all with his brother only having 1HP. But Horror was okay.

He was considered and careful and Papyrus really liked him! He had seemed trustworthy!

That was! Of course! Until he turned out to want to date his brother! Indecent! All of them!

Papyrus keeps a watchful eye as they get comfortable to sleep. Sans rolls up around his babybones as the others lay nearby as well. Cross lays much too close in Papyrus's opinion. He does not need to spoon his brother like that!

But Papyrus will just stew in silence as he watches. Maybe one day he will be able to get through to his brother and get him to see he can do much better than these heathens!

His brother falls asleep quickly much like the other skeletons. Soon the only sound left in the room is the soft crackle of the fire in the fireplace and the loud snoring from Horror and Killer both. Hoenstly how neither of those woke his brother or that Cross guy up is a miracle.

Papyrus huffs as he leans back in the air "Honestly Sans. You could do so much better."

"His name isn't Sans anymore."

Papyrus turns quickly and sees two large lavender eye lights stare at him.

Papyrus blinks.

Nightmare blinks back.

Papyrus suddenyl feels nervous "You... can hear me?"

Nightmare nods before glaring at him "You are rude about my dads."

Papyrus glances to the side before crossing his arms "Well! They touch my brother unnecessarily often." there!

Nightmare tilts his tiny skull "Why do you care? You are mean to him anyway."

Papyrus sputters and waves his arms and hands out "That isn't me!!"

His brother... something is haunting his brother. Something that is faking being the great Papyrus. Making his brother doubt him! Making him feel insecure and unloved! That that must have been the reason that his brother would let these menaces near him! That must be it!

Nightmare tilts his skull and blinks those large lavender eyes again "I mean... I know it isn't you. But these type of thoughts and beleives don't come from nowhere."

Papyrus crosses his arms and frowns "I know that... It is probbaly his guilt..." But Papyrus still doesn't understand why his brother would

Nightmare just continues to stare at him "I always could hear what the other you said you know. Before it was easier than now but now it is easier to make it go away."

Papyrus frowns as he looks curious "How... how do you do that?"

Nightmare looks thoughtful before shrugging "Just a feeling. I don't want him to be hurt by that thing... I restored his mind to before he made it." he looks down bothered as he clenches a hand "It isn't perfect... But it is a start. It gives him room to heal."

Papyrus nods as he rubs his hands "Do you... think you could... help him see and hear me?" He has so many things to tell his brother. So many things he want to reassure him. Tell him he isn't mad. That he understands why he did it. That Papyrus knows Sans can do better.

"I don't think that is a good idea."

Papyrus looks shocked as Nightmare just stares at him.

Papyrus's mouth feels dry "Why not?"

Nightmare hums "Those feelings came from soemwhere. I don't want dad to feel them again." There is a protectiveness and a determination in that young voice.

Papyrus glares "I would never make my brother feel like that."

Ngihtmare tilts his skull "But you did. At least in the past. Maybe you don't even remember doing it. But you must have done something that made him beleive you would not pick him." and he stares at him. Knowing.

The plate on his hand inches. Memories just out of reach snag the back of his mind. Had he... had he picked others over his brother? he wouldn't have right? his brother is the most important person to him! Ever! So why would he?!

Nightmare cotninues to stare at him "You were the one after all who said you wanted soemone's opinion that mattered."

A long time ago. When he and Sans had just moved to Snowdin. When he had wanted to impress Undyne. Papyrus remembers now. He had made that thoughtless comment. He had wanted to apologise but Sans told him to forget about it...

Papyrus shakes his skull "That... that was just once...."

Nightmare continues to stare at him "Was it just once? Or just once that you remember?"

The plate on his hand itches again. Regret that he doens't know the source of. Broken memories of wanting to... help someone? Had... had he wanted to help someone? At the cost of Sans? No... he wouldn't right?

Papyrus shakes his skull "You are wrong!" he snaps and glares.

The staring breaks and a look of fear as Ngihtmare tries to back up and away. Papyrus immediantly regrets it as he reaches for the young babybones.

Cross is arleady awake "Nighty? Hey hey little Nightlight it is oaky." the skeleton takes Ngihtmare into his arms and holds the shaking skeleton "What is wrong? did you have a nightmare? did you have a bad memory?" he continues to hold Nightmare.

Ngihtamre continues to stare at him with fear and Papyrus isn't sure what to do. He hadn't... he hadn't meant...

Cross stares right at him but can clearly not see him as he looks back at Ngihtmare "Hey sweetsoul. What is wrong? You can tell me."

Nightmare looks embarrassed as he mutters "Trying to get Dad's ghost to leave him alone..."

Cross blinks beofre holding him close "Oh Nightmare. It is okay. It isn't your responisibility to take care of us. We take care of you..." soft nuzzles and cuddles.

Nightmare looks unsure before nodding and hiding his face into Cross's shirt.

Papyrus doesn't know what to do or say as he remains right where he was before. Just an observer to a world he doesn't belong to anymore. He isn't even sure why he is still here...

He thoguht he could help his brother but he can't do that...

He just wants his brother to know he loves him. That he isn't mad at him.

Papyrus speaks softly "I am sorry." Nightmare flinches as soon as he speaks and he rubs his hands "I am really sorry... Please... can you... tell him? That I love him? That I am not mad at him? That i never was?"

Even if Papyrus didn't agree with the choices that Sans made. Even if Sans did something that Papyrus would never do. Papyrus can't be mad at him. Not when he knows that he tried his best. When Papyrus knows that Sans truly believed that to have been the only way to stop the human.

Papyrus just wishes that Sans would trust Papyrus to still love him and believe in him.

[cha1cedony]

Thinking about all of the teens’ fear of abandonment. I think it’s simultaneously why Normal and Hermie never worked out AND why Lincoln and Scary did lol

[arminsumi]

... hubby!Gojo with a huge breeding kink who just obsesses over you when you're ovulating and can't think about anything else but fucking a baby into your hips.

+ warnings; mdni, breeding kink, some dumbification

+ an; I literally had this idea in my drafts for a year... 😳

Maybe he's got a freaky sixth sense, maybe it's just because he's got heightened senses, or maybe there's some scientific studies to back it up; but Gojo can smell when you're ovulating. And it turns him on — of course it does. He has a bigger breeding kink than you do.

"Oh, you're ovulating." he notes after sniffing your skin... and you do a double take like he's insane. Because he is insane — you married a madman.

He pays closer attention to your cycle than you do, reminding you to mark down when you get your period, and coddling you in the days leading up to ovulation.

"Satoru, it's just an estimation." you tell him, but he's got a glow in his eyes when he sees your period tracker app telling him that today's your most fertile day — if he cums in you today, it's basically guaranteed.

He researches positions that help conception, bends and pushes you into them, and fucks you deep with his thick cock, going harder on your poor hole than he normally does — grunting more than he normally does, throbbing more than he normally does... like it just awakens something primal in him, and now he's obsessively fucking you like he has no other purpose but to breed his sweet little wife.

"Nn! Satoruuu!" you whine and paw at his torso, your walls overwhelmed by the pressure of his cock splitting you open.

"Yes babyyy?" he coos, giving you a crooked, blissed-out smile as he tilts his head.

There's sweat dripping off his abs, his pink nipples are hard, his biceps are twitching, and he's running one hand through his dampened white hair as he stills inside you for a moment.

"'s too deep! T-too big!" you moan lewdly, a bit of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

"...aw, I know I'm just too big for ya, huh?" he coos cockily; hearing you tell him that he's 'too big' never gets old.

He's so determined to give you his baby that he tries everything to increase the chances; staying inside you for 5 minutes after shooting his load in, having you rest with a pillow under your back so your hips are raised — "Gotta help my lil' guys swim." he acts like an idiot about it, but sweetly so. Nothing excites him more than the idea of being a dad, except the idea of fathering your children.

After sex, when the two of you are cleaning up, Satoru feels over and massages your tummy with a small smile on his face. He's lost in thought, hair all messy and face tired like he's run a marathon, hopeful that this time he got you pregnant.

He'll pamper you like his queen, humming and going to the ends of the earth to get you anything you ask for. He really fawns over you when you're ovulating, and lays on the compliments thick while snuggling your neck and creeping his fingers up your thighs — pretty soon he'll sink them inside and stretch you out on them, preparing you for what he cutely calls "baby making" but is actually sweaty, nasty, kinky sex — there's a definite difference in the cute, snuggly sex and the literal breeding sessions no matter how much he plays it off.

"Satoru... my legs are still weak after this morning, give me a break, will you?"

"Aw come on, this is an innocent request... and if babymaking happens, it happens..." he mutters the last part under his breath.

"You're crazy."

But you know you're gonna fall for it after you take one look at his rock-hard, juicy pink, dummy big cock and those breeder balls.

He just beams victoriously when you hop over to him like a little bunny.

Satoru's pushes into you as deep as your pussy allows him, and then some more just to pressure your deepest spot, pinning your wrists down and whispering sultrily into your ear about how well you take him, how beautiful you look, how good it feels to fuck your fertile pussy knowing that he'll most definitely get you pregnant because his cum is perfect; thick and sticky and gooey and pungent, perfect just like he is — the cocky bastard.

When his creampies makes you cum, A-spot pressured with his pulsing tip, he grins so wide that you scold him about it.

"Stop grinning like a psychopath." you pant.

He just looks up at you, face hardly an inch away, and asks a dumb, smiley "D'you feel pregnant?" ... as if it happens so fast.

"Gee, I don't know, we should go again just to make sure — that was a joke, that was a joke! Nn! Satoru!" too late, he's flipping you over and slowly filling you up again.

And oh god Satoru loves sliding back in for round twos. The smell of sex and cum wafting up and hitting his nose just makes him plunge back into your cum-filled little hole with only one thing in mind and that is breeding you 'till you're stuffed to the max.

"Come on, y' gonna be a good wifey for me and get knocked up?" he rasps against your ear, thrusting his cock up into your sensitive spots until his creampies turn into whipped cream, frothed up and milky-white and smeared on your pussy lips.

Like the nasty boy he is (and always has been, even before marriage), Satoru forces your head down and makes you watch him fuck his dummy big cock into you.

"Yeah, watch that cock fill you up... look at all my cum leaking out..." he tuts, "... don't be so wasteful, baby... oh well, 'm gonna fuck it back into you anyways. Come on, let me in deeper — aw, what's wrong?" he coos when you claw at his meaty bicep.

"'toruuu, so deep! Y-you're so fucking deep, I can't think..."

His heart pangs when he hears you complain about being too stuffed, "Oh baby you don't need to think, just lay there and let me put a baby in your sweet pussy — gonna fuck you so dumb, the only name you'll remember is mine."

Of course, he has to get a creampie in every day. Sometimes even a few times a day. Sometimes even at 4 AM, and you swat him for being a horny idiot — but it takes five minutes to give in because you can hear the need in his voice when he whines "Please?" and starts humping against you, "I've got so much cum for you." he tells you and though it sounds so sweet in his soft, bedroom voice it's hard to take him as an innocent man, because his thick boner is grinding hard and hot between your plush lips.

You can bet you'll probably only get to sleep when the birds are chirping, 'cause your hubby's balls are too heavy and full of cum and he needs to drain himself inside you — oh, and you can also bet that afterwards he will be sleeping like a princess, clinging to you with his face snuggled into your tummy.

[aomiiine]

SAVE A PLANE, RAWDOG A PILOT

ON THIS PLANE, YOU’LL BE WITNESSING … commercial airline pilot!caleb & stewardess fem!reader, pure filth ahead!! warning(s) -> nsfw, MDNI [18+ only], smut w no plot, he hits from behind, creampie, caleb’s a fucking tease, dirty talk, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up b4 any action irl), not fighter pilot caleb, degradation (he calls u a slut once), petnames: sweetheart, baby, princess, implied aftercare, slight comedy lol, not proofread wordcount. 0.8k (procrastinating from my long ass sylus fic sorz)

DEAR PILOT of yours just can’t stand not touching you after every flight you share together. He says its because he misses you, you say its because he needs to mark your pretty body for the next flight you’re on to ward off unwanted attention.

working with your childhood friend as a stewardess at an airline he worked as a pilot was.. pleasurable to say the least. Caleb had trained to be a fighter pilot, something you respected him for despite his ridiculous teasing whenever he came home. But what you wondered most now, was why he suddenly abandoned his duties just to be a pilot for a normal plane travelling across countries.

Crisp uniform, fitting hat and a smug smile. Today was one of the many unlucky days you shared a flight with him. Fuck this guy, you snarled in your mind whenever you even caught a glance of him coming out the cockpit. Though those words became a literal fuck me real quick after a long flight.

You prayed with a hazy mind and hands bracing on the wall of the narrow toilet in the plane that no one was outside, body bouncing with the force of Caleb’s thrusts from behind you. “Y-you’re going too fast, what if someone hears?” You stammered between uneven breaths mingling with moans, unable to make yourself care much for your surroundings despite your concerned words, earning a scoff from the man making your legs quiver from behind.

“The only thing someone’s gonna hear is your fucking moans if you keep talking, sweetheart,” Caleb grunted with a hoarse chuckle, jaw clenched soon after with stuttering his hips stuttering into your sloppy cunt, velvety walls tightening around him like a silky vice.

He was in awe of his own self-control whenever he sunk his achingly hard cock back into your pussy, feeling your insides fluttering around him to accommodate his length stretching you out. The man couldn’t help but lean forward at this one specific clench, hand slamming against the wall ahead of you just above one of your own trembling hands.

“She’s so hungry for my cum, isn’t she, baby? Making it so hard for me to hold back with all that clenching..,” he murmured softly just behind your ear, though it was more like he was talking to your pussy with how he was punctuating his every word with a thrust, his body leaning down close to you with ease due to his tall height. He buried himself further into your warm heat with a squelch, the lewd mix of his pre-cum and your arousal. He felt a jolt of desire when you only clamped down on him harder in response, making him exhale a chuckle and quicken his pace, bringing you and himself closer to the edge.

“Ooh, fuck, now you’re feeling it, aren’t you? About to make a biiig fucking mess on my cock like a dirty slut,” he drawled cruelly with an initial growl, head dipped into your shoulder with your hand on your hip only tightening to hold you in place. Every plow of his cock inside your needy cunt filled the small room, the sound of skin against skin surely to reach the ears of those close by.

True to Caleb’s words, you sobbed a moan of pleasure, knees falling weak and unstable as your orgasm overwhelmed you, creaming all over his cock, making a mess that began to drip on the floor. Regardless of your recent climax, Caleb showed no signs of stopping, your pleasure only feeding his desperate desire to reach that high with you, to fill you up, mark you for the rest of the next flight until he could have you again. In time, his balls drew up tight, one last surge forward before he stilled and pumped his seed into your tight channel, painting those velvet walls white with his essence.

“Ungh.. Think I just made you even warmer than you already were, princess,” Caleb laughed weakly, forehead resting against your shoulder, big hand on your hip the only support you had to keep standing. “.. Oh, fuck you,” you huffed between pants, head hung low to catch your breath and recompose yourself from the intense pounding he’s given you ever since the plane landed and the passengers unloaded. “Yeah, you sure did,” he scoffed with a grin, leaning in with a pull from your stomach to sneak a kiss onto your cheek. He leaned away once more before you could gain the energy to scold him further, slowly pulling out of your used hole, leaving it full empty with nothing but oozing cum.

He reached out for the toilet roll nearby, grabbing a thick bunch of tissue to clean your wet inner thighs and wiping your slick folds with little effort, not wanting to truly clean you up of his cum yet. Besides, you were too tired to notice at the moment, so he pulled your panties up, tugging your skirt back down as he helped you take your hands off the walls to stand up straight.

After a proper few minutes of insisted aftercare by Caleb, you two were outside of the bathroom again, readying yourselves to leave the aircraft for your next respective flights. Once this experience ended, you thought that maybe sharing a flight with him wasn’t so bad. Well, maybe until you began to feel his cum beginning to drip down onto your panties while you were walking.

[littlelamy]

a/n: it’s a little more explicit then what I normally write 🙃 so I hope you guys like it! gif i found from @bunnyqirl

rafe’s lips press into yours with a raw intensity that has you melting into him. the moment his hands find their way to your backside, you moan softly into his mouth, and he groans in response, the sound vibrating against your lips.

“mmh,” you breathe, your voice muffled by his mouth, heat rushing through your body as his fingers dig into your skin. "that feels good."

he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing ragged. "you like that?" he murmurs, his voice deep and rough with desire. before you can answer, you pull his hands back onto your backside, guiding them to squeeze harder, needing him closer.

"don’t stop," you whisper, your breath shaky as his grip tightens. rafe smirks at your boldness, his blue eyes gleaming with something darker, more intense.

“never,” he purrs, his voice low and teasing.

he leans in again, capturing your lips with his, and you lose yourself in the feeling of him—the way his hands move, the way his mouth explores yours. every kiss feels like a promise, every touch sends sparks shooting through you. his name escapes your lips in a whisper, and you feel his smile against your mouth.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling you even closer, his hands gripping you tighter. "i want you so bad, y/n."

his voice is like a growl, and you can feel the tension in his body as he presses against you. you arch into him, wanting more, needing more. his lips move from your mouth to your neck, planting hot kisses along your skin, and you shiver in response.

"rafey," you gasp as he bites down gently on the sensitive spot just below your ear. his name falls from your lips in a breathless moan, and he growls softly, loving the way you respond to him.

he pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "say my name again," he purrs, his hands still kneading your backside, his voice dripping with desire. "i love hearing it, bunny."

you bite your lip, your heart racing in your chest. "mm rafey," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. his name tastes like sin on your tongue, and the way he reacts—his grip tightening, his eyes darkening—makes you crave him even more.

he groans, low and deep, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leans in, kissing you hard. “God, y/n,” he growls, his breath hot against your lips, “you drive me crazy.”

his hands slide down your body, gripping you so firmly it makes your knees weak. you pull his hands back to your backside, wanting more, needing him to touch you harder. “don’t stop,” you whisper, your voice thick with desire.

"never, princess ," he purrs again, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "i'm never letting you go."

he leans in, his lips brushing over your neck, and you gasp as his tongue flicks out, teasing your skin. every touch of his hands, every word that escapes his lips, makes your body burn with need. you can feel the tension between you both, the heat building, and it’s driving you wild.

"you feel so good," he mutters, his lips moving down to your collarbone, his hands kneading your backside in time with the rhythm of your hips. “so good, y/n.”

your breath catches in your throat as you grind against him, every movement sending jolts of pleasure through your body. his grip tightens, his hands possessive, like he can’t get enough of you. "say my name again," he purrs, his voice dripping with need.

"yes, rafe," you moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body arches into him. he groans in response, the sound raw, almost animalistic, as his hands pull you even tighter against him.

"that’s it, y/n," he growls, his lips brushing over your ear, "keep saying it."

you gasp, your heart racing as his mouth moves back to yours, kissing you deeply, passionately. your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you moan his name again and again, unable to hold back.

his hands are everywhere, kneading, squeezing, pulling you closer, and all you can do is give in to the sensation, the heat between you both overwhelming. you grind against him again, and he groans, his grip tightening almost painfully.

"shit, y/n," he growls, his voice filled with raw desire, "you’re making me hard."

you pull his hands tighter against your ass, wanting more, needing more. "then don’t stop," you whisper breathlessly, your lips brushing over his. his name falls from your lips again, and he growls low in his throat, his hands gripping you harder.

"never," he purrs, his voice thick with desire. “i’m not stopping until you’ve learn lesson, y/n.”

the way he says your name, the way his hands feel on your body, sends you spiraling, your mind foggy with want. his lips crash into yours again, his kiss desperate, almost wild, as if he’s been waiting for this moment forever. and maybe he has—maybe you both have.

you moan into his mouth, pulling him closer, wanting him as much as he wants you. his hands are relentless, kneading your backside with a firm, possessive grip that makes your head spin. and every time he says your name, it’s like a promise, a reminder that this is real, that you’re his.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

“nice piece, isn’t it?” your ex-husband finally spoke to the man sitting beside him, the one who had been staring at you like he wanted to devour you for minutes now.

his tone wasn’t angry at all; in fact, he sounded like they were close friends, joking casually. there wasn’t even a hint of murderous intent in his voice.

the man, who had been staring at you like he was in a trance, didn’t even glance at gojo as he replied, “rare to find one like that.” he chuckled as if he’d said something incredibly funny and took a sip of his drink.

it wasn’t funny. at least, not to gojo.

your ex-husband didn’t let his expression slip; instead, he laughed at the man’s words, clinking his glass against his in agreement. he wasn’t particularly fond of drinking, but tonight, he needed it more than anything else.

first, it was friday night, and you’d come to this bar with your friends—a bar full of men who wanted nothing more than to fuck you.

second, you were wearing the shortest and most beautiful light blue dress in existence. (you’d chosen it because it was the same shade as his eyes, making him think you hadn’t forgotten him.)

third, from his seat at a table a little removed from yours—where he could still see you—he’d noticed that not only was he watching you like some pervert, but the guy beside him was eyeing you too. it took everything in him not to smash his head in.

he knew he was just as much a creep as the guy, but he also knew that no other man had the right to look at you like that. no one but him. no matter what had happened between the two of you, no one else could ogle your legs or the parts of your chest that your dress left exposed.

the man finally turned to gojo, offering his hand in introduction and stating his name. your ex-husband didn’t hesitate to shake his hand, a friendly grin on his face, and said, “satoru gojo.”

“we’ve just met, i know, but why are you alone?” the man’s gaze roamed over gojo, lingering on the black cap covering his unmistakable white hair. “no offense, but you’re one hell of a handsome bastard. god’s favorite, i’m sure. seems crazy for a guy like you to be drinking alone.”

if he hadn’t been ogling you like a meal, gojo might’ve actually liked him. there wasn’t much he enjoyed more than hearing others praise how good he looked.

except for hearing it from you.

“why can’t someone like me, come to a bar to drink alone?”

the man laughed, taking another sip of his drink. “you should be surrounded by girls all the time, but instead, you're here, blocking guys like me from having a shot.”

gojo barely held back a hearty laugh. he never thought he’d laugh so much at a guy he wanted to strangle. “divorced a year ago. guess i’m not god’s favorite anymore. if i were, i wouldn’t be here. i’d be inside her right now.”

that was, without a doubt, his favorite place to be.

the man looked at gojo with a hint of sympathy. “shit, you sound like you miss her, man.”

he missed you. more than anything.

the man placed a hand on gojo’s shoulder like a supportive friend. “you know what? screw that whore, man. if she lost a guy like you, that’s on her. plenty of hot things in here tonight to take your mind off it.”

“whore?” huh… keeping himself from killing this guy was getting harder by the second. who did he think he was to call you that? what he’d do if he found out he just called the woman he’s been staring at for hours a whore?

the man had no idea he’d just dug his own grave.

“is that so?” gojo’s gaze drifted back to your table. you were laughing at something your friend had said, looking incredibly happy. but gojo could tell you were bored out of your mind and wanted to go home.

“hell yeah,” the man grinned, leaning in closer to gojo. “you got your eye on anyone?”

he did. just you.

a fire of possession ignited in gojo’s eyes. “maybe.”

the man followed gojo’s gaze. “haha, so you’re after the one i’ve been watching, huh? normally, i don’t share, but i like you, my friend. you deserve to blow off some steam with a nice pussy after a year.” the guy laughed as he leaned away, motioning to the bartender to refill his drink.

you were never his. you hadn’t been anyone’s. no one could share you because you belonged to one person and one person only. even if your marriage was over, no one else could even think about touching you.

and gojo was definitely not this guy’s friend.

“maybe i do deserve it,” gojo bit the inside of his cheek to contain his anger.

“bet she’s tight as hell and warm too. i mean, damn, those legs around your waist must feel amazing.”

oh, you were tight and warm, all right. gojo knew that firsthand. he remembered every time he’d fucked you senseless—how your legs would lock around his waist, your toes curling, your walls gripping him as you came undone. there wasn’t a single thing about you he’d forgotten.

gojo took a hard sip of his drink. “absolutely. and those perfect lips of hers? let’s just say she knows how to make a man see heaven while she’s on her knees. i’d fuck her throat until tears streamed down her face, and she’d still take all of me.”

“fuck, dude, you really want her. hope she doesn’t have a boyfriend. though, if she’s wearing a dress that short, i doubt it. no guy with a brain would let his girl wear something like that.”

no, he wouldn’t. and he hadn’t. in fact, your fights about this were one of the reasons for your divorce. but the real reason sat beside him now—your ex-husband knew exactly what kind of creeps were out there and felt the need to protect you from them.

the smile on gojo’s face finally faded. “trust me, i wasn’t allowing it.”

the man looked at him, confused. “you weren’t?”

gojo tore his gaze away from you and turned those dangerously piercing blue eyes to him. “yeah. who would want to offer the woman they love to guys like you on a silver platter?”

“what the fuck are you saying?” the man asked, his voice trembling as he noticed the lethal glint in gojo’s eyes.

“the tight, warm pussy you’re dying to fuck belongs to my ex-wife.” gojo leaned in closer to the man, the urge to strangle him growing stronger with every passing second.

“are you fucking crazy?”

he’d been crazy about you since the moment he met you.

“fuck yes. i’m absolutely insane. insane about everything about her. but if there’s one thing that drives me even crazier, it’s some bastard like you describing how her pussy might feel. because…” he leaned in, whispering into the man’s ear, “right now, i’m struggling not to kill you, but tonight, when you go to the house you think is safe, i can’t wait to show up and wrap my hands around your throat with delight.”

the man’s eyes widened in terror. he’d just realized he was sitting next to an absolute maniac.

“how do i know you’re not bullshitting me?” he stammered.

gojo immediately pulled back and, in the same friendly tone he had used when they first met, said, “oh, that’s very simple.” he pulled out his phone from his coat and opened your chat—where he sent at least 500 messages a day and still hadn’t been blocked.

gojo: blue always suits you, baby, but don’t you think that dress is a bit too short?

gojo: did you wear it because you knew i’d be watching tonight?

gojo: for someone who never answers my texts or calls, you sure know exactly what i’ve been saying ;)

gojo knew you always read the messages he sent through notifications. in a few seconds, you’d do it again. he liked knowing you were aware he was watching you because he knew you were just as crazy as he was.

“watch,” gojo said, almost like a warning to the man, his eyes shifting to the table where you sat with your friends.

as soon as the message came through, your eyes moved to your phone. a few seconds later, you scanned the room, and when your gaze landed on the bar table a little distance away—where your ex-husband sat, wearing a black cap and flashing you that devastating smile—your cheeks turned crimson.

“see that, buddy?” gojo, still staring at you, leaned closer to the man. “look how i made her blush. and trust me, those won’t be the only cheeks turning red tonight.” then he turned his full attention to the man. “now get lost. immediately.”

stunned, the man fumbled for his wallet, threw a few bills on the table for his drinks, and hurriedly left without another word. gojo watched him leave before turning his attention back to you, a confused look on your face as you stared at him.

ex-husband!gojo would do anything to eliminate the creeps who ogled you—whether from your vicinity or the world entirely.

but before he dealt with that man, he had to punish you for wearing that dress.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[mcrdvcks]

—please me

chapter summary: After dating for a while, you want nothing more than for Logan to really please you. Or, you beg Logan to finally fuck you.

word count: 2.2k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: here was the request

i don't have a lot of experience with the corruption kink, but i think this is it?? or maybe not, feel free to correct me😅

warnings/tags: old man logan, age gap, porn no plot, implied oral (f!receiving), pet names, begging, unprotected piv, corruption kink, praise kink, teasing, overstimulation, slight crybaby!reader(?), creampie

Normally you wouldn’t beg for something like this. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no man, yet were more than happy to have one.

You weren’t like most girls your age either, moving from guy to guy never staying with one. It just wasn’t for you, you were never a super horny teenager, nor a super horny adult.

But when you started to date Logan, it was like you could feel the shift in your ovaries, and to make matters worse he never went the extra step, no matter how much you said you were ready.

It was always him going down on you, giving you beard burn that you delighted in, with the addition of his lovely thick fingers that always pushed you over. And sure, you went down on him, but that’s where it ended.

And you couldn’t help but want more, but Logan being Logan always made up an excuse about you being too young, or how he didn’t want to ruin a pretty little thing like you.

Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his beard glistening from the evidence of what he’d just done. You were still trembling, clutching at the sheets as the last waves of your release rolled through you, trying to catch your breath.

He shifted, moving up to sit beside you on the couch. The lazy smirk on his face told you he was proud of himself, as if he didn’t already know how good he was with his mouth and those ridiculously skilled fingers.

“You good, doll?” he asked, his voice gravelly and low, sending another shiver through your body.

You nodded, but something in you wasn’t satisfied. Not this time. It wasn’t enough anymore. You wanted more—needed more. And it wasn’t just your body begging; it was something deeper, something primal.

“Logan,” you murmured, sitting up on your knees and reaching out to touch his chest. Your fingers traced the lines of his muscles under the fabric of his shirt. He stiffened slightly, glancing at your hand before looking back up at your face.

“What is it, princess?” His tone softened a bit, though you caught the slight edge of wariness in it. He probably already knew what you were about to ask.

“I want you,” you whispered, leaning closer so your breath ghosted over his ear. “I need you.”

Logan groaned, running a hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the temptation that was you. “Y/N… we’ve talked about this. You’re… you’re too young, and I don’t wanna ruin you.”

You pulled back slightly, pouting in that way you knew he couldn’t resist. “I’m not a kid, Logan. I’m old enough to know what I want, and I want you.”

“Damn it, doll, don’t make this harder than it already is,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at you.

You weren’t going to let him get away with brushing you off this time. Shifting, you straddled his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. His hands instinctively moved to grip your thighs, and you felt the tension in his body as he tried to keep himself in check.

“Please, Logan,” you pleaded, grinding down against him. His breath hitched, and you knew you were getting to him. You leaned in, brushing your lips against his neck, trailing soft kisses up to his jaw. “I’ve been patient. I’ve waited, but I can’t anymore. I need you.”

He groaned again, his hands tightening on your thighs. “Doll, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Yes, I do,” you said firmly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Logan’s resolve was crumbling; you could see it in the way his jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. He exhaled sharply, his grip on your thighs loosening slightly as he leaned his head back against the couch.

“Just the tip,” he muttered, almost as if trying to convince himself more than you. “Just the tip, and we stop if it’s too much.”

You nodded eagerly, your heart racing as you started to pull at his shirt. Logan’s rough hands came up to still yours, his calloused fingers wrapping around your wrists.

“Doll,” he said, his voice low and strained. “You’re killin’ me here.”

“Good,” you shot back, leaning in close enough that your lips brushed his as you spoke. “Then stop holding back.”

For a second, he didn’t move, his knuckles going white from the tension in his grip. Then, with a growl that vibrated through his chest, Logan released your wrists and let you yank his shirt over his head. The fabric barely hit the floor before his hands were on you again, sliding under your top to feel the softness of your skin. His touch was rough, desperate, like he’d been holding himself back for far too long.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his gaze locking onto yours. His eyes were dark, hungry, but there was a flicker of hesitation there, too.

You answered by pulling your shirt off and tossing it aside, leaving yourself bare before him. His breath hitched, and his hands froze for a moment before sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you let out a soft gasp, your hips pressing down against him.

“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “You’re gonna drive me insane.”

“Good,” you repeated, your hands moving to the waistband of his jeans. “Because I’m not stopping until I get what I want.”

Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as you unbuttoned his jeans and dragged the zipper down. His hips lifted slightly to help you, and you pushed the denim down just enough to free him. The sight of him made your breath catch; he was thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip. You swallowed hard, your excitement and nerves mingling as you wrapped your fingers around him.

“Doll,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Don’t… fuck, don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” you said, shifting so you could line him up with your entrance. You paused, looking up at him one last time. “I want you, Logan. All of you.”

His jaw tightened, and he let out a shaky breath. “Just the tip,” he muttered, as if trying to convince himself. “We’ll stop if it’s too much.”

You nodded, your hands braced on his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. The stretch was intense, bordering on overwhelming, but the pleasure that came with it was undeniable. Logan’s hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, and his head tipped back as a low, guttural groan escaped him.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he hissed. “You’re so… tight. Fuck.”

You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjusted to the intrusion. “Logan…”

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained. His hands flexed on your hips, like he was fighting the urge to move.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… give me a second.”

He nodded, his chest heaving as he tried to keep still. But as the initial sting faded and the pleasure began to build, you couldn’t help but start to move. You lifted yourself up slightly before sinking back down, and the friction sent a wave of heat through your body.

“Fuck,” Logan groaned, his hands guiding your movements as you began to pick up the pace. “Doll, you… you feel too good. I—fuck.”

Your response was a breathy moan, your head tipping back as you rode him. The way he filled you, stretched you, was almost too much, but you didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t. Not when it felt this good.

"Logan," you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Please… I need… more."

Logan clenched his jaw, his self-control unraveling as your breathy voice and soft pleas pushed him further. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet more firmly on the floor, and wrapped one arm around your waist, anchoring you to him. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head so he could press his lips to your temple.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for, princess," he muttered, his voice rough, low, and dangerously close to a growl. But even as he spoke, he rolled his hips up into you, just enough to pull a choked gasp from your lips.

"I do," you whispered, your forehead resting against his shoulder. Your nails scraped lightly down his arms, and you moved your hips again, meeting his shallow thrust. "Please… I… I can take it."

Logan swore under his breath, his grip on your waist tightening. "You’re gonna regret beggin' like that," he warned, but the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips betrayed his own amusement at your desperation.

He thrust up into you harder, and the sharp cry that escaped you sent a shiver down his spine. Your body clenched around him, the slick heat driving him mad. The way you buried your face in the crook of his neck, panting and babbling softly, only added to his torment.

"Logan," you whimpered, your voice muffled against his skin. "Feels s’good… oh… ohhh… please…"

"Look at you," Logan said, his voice laced with a teasing edge. He gripped your hips tighter, guiding you as you started to move more erratically. "Beggin' me to fuck you, and now you can’t even talk straight."

Your only response was a breathy whine, your body trembling as you moved against him. Logan’s smirk grew as he thrust up into you again, harder this time, making you cry out. Your hands fisted in his hair, your nails dragging along his scalp as your head tipped back.

"Oh… ohhh Logan," you babbled, the sound broken and desperate. "Please… don’t stop… more… more."

Logan’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle, but his movements never faltered. He braced his feet against the floor and began to move, his hips snapping up into yours in a steady rhythm that had you gasping and moaning uncontrollably.

"Thought you wanted me to take it slow," he teased, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. "Now look at you, ridin' me like you can’t get enough."

Your response was incoherent, a string of soft cries and gasps as you clung to him. Your head fell forward onto his shoulder again, your breath hot against his neck as you mumbled, "So good… so good… ohhh… Logan…"

He groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hand slid down to grip your ass, pulling you down onto him harder with each thrust. "Yeah, that’s it, doll. Take it. You wanted this, didn’t you?"

"Y-yes," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Wanted… you… so much… oh… ohh…"

Logan growled, his hips bucking up into you more forcefully. Your cries grew louder, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to keep up with his relentless pace. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending lit up as he filled you over and over again.

"Fuck, you’re close," he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel it. You gonna come for me, princess?"

You nodded frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. "Y-yes… oh… Logan… I… I…"

He didn’t let you finish, his hand sliding up your back to pull you even closer as he drove into you harder. Your body tensed, your cries turning into broken sobs of pleasure as your climax crashed over you.

"That’s it," Logan murmured, his voice rough but tender. "Let go for me, doll. Let me feel you."

You came undone, your body trembling and your head falling against his shoulder as you sobbed his name. Logan groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through the aftershocks, each thrust pulling another shuddering moan from your lips.

"Too much," you whimpered, your voice muffled against his skin. "Logan… too much… can’t…"

But Logan didn’t stop. He slowed his movements slightly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back, but he kept going, his own release building as he pushed you past the edge.

"You’re fine," he said softly, his voice a deep rumble. "You can take it. You’re stronger than you think."

You whimpered, your body shivering as the overstimulation sent jolts of pleasure-pain through you. Logan pressed a kiss to your temple, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release.

"Almost there, doll," he muttered, his voice strained. "Just hold on a little longer."

You nodded weakly, your hands clutching at him as he thrust into you one last time, his body tensing as he spilled inside you. He groaned, his head falling back against the couch as he held you close, his breaths coming in harsh pants.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the TV in the background. Logan’s hands ran up and down your back soothingly, his touch grounding you as you both came down from the high.

"You okay?" he asked after a while, his voice soft and laced with concern.

You nodded, your face still buried in his neck. "Yeah," you murmured, your voice hoarse. "More than okay."

Logan chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your hair. "Good. Because you’re gonna be sore as hell tomorrow, princess."

You let out a breathless laugh, your body relaxing against him as a warm, contented silence settled over you both.

[sevikasvictim]

sevika x fem reader |

Word count : 2.7k

Tags : touch deprived reader , like SUPER touch deprived , touchy sevika , dom!sevika, being called a pet , slight pet play? , normal amount of possessive sevika :) , LOTS of teasing & begging , praising , breeding KINK , fingering , sevika is strapped 24/7 , grinding fully clothed , sevika is kinda evil lol , reader is really weak & submissive , hair pulling , gf!sevika , melting!reader , reader is shy tbh

Summary : you ask sevika to braid your hair . . . And get more than what you bargained for.

Note : haii this is my first official written piece hah.. i am very new to writing full stuff. sevika brainrot is taking over and i just have sm to write about. i also didnt proof read this… i hope you guys enjoy!!

As Sevika braided your hair, she leaned in close, her voice a deep, husky murmur in your ear. "You look adorable with your hair like this," she said, her fingertips brushing against your ear as she spoke. "So perfect and cute. Just like a little pet." She continued to braid, her touch gentle yet possessive. "I could just keep you like this all day, you know," she added, a possessive gleam in her eyes. "All mine, to do with as I please." With each pass of her fingers through your hair, Sevika's possessiveness became almost tangible.

You couldn’t even focus on whatever you had been talking about that day, with her fingers gently gliding through your hair. The possessiveness in her voice sent a shiver down your spine, her breath warm against your skin.

You tried to stay still, but your face began to heat up at the mere thought of being hers. She definitely noticed.

When she leaned in closer to speak in your ear, her voice so soft and possessive, you could feel yourself melt under her touch. Her words were almost like a taunt, making your heart beat a little faster. With the braids now in place, Sevika couldn't resist the urge to tug gently on your hair.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She loved seeing your reaction, the slight hitch in your breath and the way your body reflexively leaned towards her.

“So responsive,” she murmured, her voice filled with satisfaction. “Such a good girl.”

Sevika continued to tug on your hair, her touch becoming more firm but still careful not to hurt you. Yet. As she tugged, she watched as you instinctively leaned closer, your body responding to her like a well trained pet.

“You like this, don’t you?” she asked, her tone almost like a threat. “Like it when I’m in control, don’t you?”

You knew what she wanted to hear, the way she looked down at you with that dominant gleam in her eye, and you nodded slowly.

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I like it when you’re in control, Sevika...”

“Good doll.” she purred, her eyes darkening with desire. Her eyes raked over your body, taking in every subtle twitch and movement. Then suddenly, she yanked harder on your hair, forcing your head back and exposing your neck. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against your skin. Her fingers released your hair, and instead traced along your jawline.

“You look so good like this,” she murmured, her voice low and dangerous. “Helpless and at my mercy...”

With her hand still on your chin, Sevika commanded you to move onto her lap. There was no room for debate; she was clearly in control. You complied, shifting your weight and finding yourself straddling her thighs. Her mechanical hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer so that you were practically pressed against her.

“Much better,” she said, her voice thick with desire. “Right where you belong, on my lap.”

Every nerve in your body was on fire as you found yourself grinding slowly on Sevika’s lap. You were acutely aware of every inch of her body, the heat, the muscled planes of her thighs, the way her hands were running up and down your sides.

Your breathing was ragged, your cheeks flushed, and you were so sure she could tell how flustered you were. It was painfully obvious.

“S-Sevika,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I-“

“So timid,” Sevika teased, her hands continuing to exploring your body, each touch sending sparks through you. “You’re shaking like a leaf, pet. Can’t even finish what you’re going to say?” She seemed to enjoy the way she affected you, the way you were coming undone in her lap. Her touch grew more possessive as she pulled you closer, her lips centimeters from yours.

Unable to form coherent words, you managed a shaky, “Sevika...please...” Sevika's lips curled into a smirk as she looked up at you, enjoying the way you fell apart in her lap. The sound of your shaky plea sent a bolt of desire through her, and her grip on you tightened.

“Please what, doll?” she asked, taunting you. “Use that pretty voice of yours and tell me.”

Your mind was a blur, your thoughts consumed by the heat of Sevika's body and the huskiness of her voice. Her hands on your hips were like a promise, a reminder that she could take you apart anytime she wanted. You swallowed hard, trying to regain some control over yourself. “Please,” you managed, your voice a breathless whisper. Your face flushed, your whole body overheating under Sevika's intense gaze.

Trying to find your voice. "Please, I need you."

Sevika's lips curled into a dangerous smile at your words. "That's not good enough, doll," she purred. "I want to hear you begging."

Your breath hitched at her words, your face burning with embarrassment and desire. You had never begged anyone before, had never felt the need to. But there was something about Sevika, this dominant force that made your heart race and your mind turned to mush too easily.

"Please," you repeated, your voice a hoarse whisper. "I need you, Sevika. T-touch me. I'll do anything for you, just please.…"

Even as she heard the desperation in your voice, Sevika still wasn't satisfied. She wanted more. Needed more.

She grabbed your hips, her fingers gripping them hard enough to leave bruises, and pulled you even closer, forcing you to lean heavily against her.

“I said I wanted you to beg,” she said, her voice dripping with command. “I want to hear you pleading. Whimpering. Begging. You can do better than that, sweetheart.”

You could only let out a desperate whimper at her command, your body trembling as you tried to find your voice. Your mind was already fuzzy, your thoughts centered on her and her alone.

Sevika seemed to feed off your submission, her grip on your hip growing even tighter, possessive.

“Come on, doll,” she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction. “You know what I want to hear. Beg me. Show me just how badly you need me. Just how badly you want my touch.”

You couldn’t even form a coherent thought as Sevika’s commanding words rang in your ears. All you cared about was pleasing her, doing whatever she asked of you.

With a trembling voice, you managed to say, “Please, Sevika. I need you. I want you. I’ll do anything you ask, just please, touch me. Please.” Your voice was shaky, every word dripping with desperation. It was almost humiliating. It was humiliating. how much you needed her, how much you wanted her control.

Sevika’s lips curved into a cruel smile as she heard your pleading, her body practically vibrating with satisfaction. You had given in to her completely, and she knew it.

“There’s a good little girl,” she purred, her tone a mix of condescension and affection.

She finally released the tight grip she had on your hip, her hand drifting upwards, tracing a path along your ribcage until her hand came to rest on the nape of your neck.

Her fingers dug into your flesh as she pulled you closer, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You felt a jolt of electricity pass through you as you started to move against her needily now, the simple friction of your movements sending pleasure coursing through your body. Sevika’s grip on the back of your neck tightened, and she let out a low groan, her eyes dark and hooded as she watched you.

“That’s it doll,” she murmured, her voice rough. “Keep moving just like that.”

Your movements grew more frenzied as you heard her words, your body craving the praise and direction she was giving you. You could feel Sevika shifting beneath you, her thighs tensing as you moved against her, her breath coming out in short, ragged gasps.

“You look so damn good like this,” she growled, her fingers digging into your neck. “Grinding against me, desperate and needy. Tell me you’re mine, princess.”

Your mind was hazy with pleasure, your body thrumming with desire as you heard the possessive edge in Sevika’s voice.

“I’m yours,” you gasped out, your words rushed and very desperate. “I’m yours, ‘vika. All yours.”

You could feel Sevika’s lips on your neck now, her tongue tracing a path along your skin, biting and sucking just hard enough to leave a bruise.Her mouth was hot and greedy on your skin, her teeth and lips leaving a trail of hickeys down your neck and across your shoulder.

Her hands were everywhere, exploring your body like she owned it, owning you. And that’s because she did. And you loved it.

Sevika's hands roamed your body as she continued her assault on your neck, one hand sliding up under your shirt to cup your breast, fingers finding your nipple and pinching it roughly. Her hips bucked up against you, grinding her hips against yours as she sucked harder on your skin, leaving dark purple marks blooming on your flesh.

She pulled back for a moment, eyes dark with lust as she looked at you, a wicked grin on her face. "You're mine, ain't ya?" She growled, voice low and husky. "All fucking mine. And I'm gonna mark up this pretty skin of yours, so everyone knows who you belong to."

Her hand slid down your stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants, teasing you. "Gonna fuck this tight little cunt of yours 'til you can't walk straight. Gonna fill you up with my strap til you're dripping with it." She punctuated each word with a thrust of her hips, the bulge of her strap rubbing against your core.

"Now be a good girl and take off them clothes for me. Wanna see all of you."

Sevika's eyes bore into yours, dark with lust and possessiveness. Her grip on your thigh tightens as she waits for you to obey her command, to strip for her like the good little girl she wants you to be. The anticipation is killing you, your body aching for her touch, for the feeling of her thick strap splitting you open.

But you make her wait, hands moving slow as molasses as you inch your shirt up, revealing your stomach inch by tantalizing inch. Sevika's breath hitches, her eyes tracking every bit of skin you reveal. You take your time, drawing out the tease until finally, you pull your shirt off completely, tossing it aside.

"Fuck, look at you," Sevika groans, her hands immediately going to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh roughly. "So goddamn perfect." Her head dips down, teeth grazing over one nipple before she sucks it into her mouth, biting down just enough to make you gasp.Her hands move to your pants next, popping the button open and tugging down the zipper. She hooks her fingers in the waistband, waiting for your nod before pulling them down your legs, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lacy panties. Sevika runs a finger over the fabric, pressing it against your clit through the thin material.

"These are cute," she murmurs, "but they gotta go. Wanna see this pretty little cunt." Her fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and exposing you fully to her hungry gaze. "Fuck, baby, look at you. So wet for me already."

Sevika's fingers dance over your slick folds, teasing your entrance before pushing inside, two thick digits stretching you open.

"Fuck, you're tight," she groans, pumping her fingers in and out, curling them to hit that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. "Gonna feel so good wrapped around my strap."

She adds a third finger, her thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips buck against her hand, chasing more friction, more pressure. Sevika obliges, fucking into you harder, faster, the obscene wet sounds of her fingers pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt filling the room.

"That's it, baby," she purrs, "Ride my fingers like a good girl. Gonna get this pussy nice and ready for me." Her other hand moves to your tits, pinching and twisting your nipples until they're hard peaks, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Sevika can tell you're getting close, your walls starting to flutter around her fingers, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She leans in, biting at your earlobe before whispering in your ear. "Gonna make you come on my fingers, princess. Gonna make you scream my name. And then I'm gonna fuck you 'til you can't remember yours."

Her words push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, your cunt clamping down around her fingers as you come with a cry of her name. Sevika works you through it, fingers still pumping, drawing out your pleasure until you're shaking and spent in her arms. Sevika pulls her fingers out of your dripping cunt, bringing them to her lips and sucking your essence off them with a moan. "Fuck, you taste so good, baby. Could eat this pretty little pussy all day."

She stands, lifting you easily and carrying you to the bed, tossing you down onto the mattress. You bounce slightly, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Sevika strips off her own clothes, revealing miles of scarred, toned skin and the thick bulge of her strap-on. She climbs onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator stalking its prey.

"Gonna fuck you so good, princess. Gonna make you mine in every fucking way."

Sevika settles between your thighs, the blunt head of her strap pressing against your entrance. She leans down, capturing your lips in a filthy kiss, all tongue and teeth as she starts to push inside, stretching you open around her thick length. Inch by inch she sinks into you, until she's fully seated inside you, her hips flush against yours. She breaks the kiss, pulling back to look at you, drinking in the sight of you stretched around her. "Fuck, look at you, taking me so well. Love seeing this tight little cunt stuffed full of my cock." She starts to move, pulling out slowly before snapping her hips forward, setting a deep, hard rhythm that has you seeing stars. The thick strap rubs against your walls with every thrust, hitting spots you didn't even know you had. Sevika braces herself above you, one hand coming down to rub tight circles over your clit as she fucks into you.

"Gonna come inside this pussy," she grunts, her hips slamming into you harder, faster. "Fill you up until it's dripping out of you. Gonna breed this cunt so good, baby. Make you fucking mine."

Sevika's hips piston into you relentlessly, the thick strap stretching you open, filling you completely. Her fingers work over your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body rocks with the force of her thrusts, the headboard banging against the wall with a rhythmic thud. Sweat drips down Sevika's brow as she fucks into you relentlessly, chasing her own release.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," she growls, her voice ragged with pleasure. "This pussy was made for my cock. Gonna fucking ruin you for anyone else."

Her words push you over the edge, your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls clench around the thick strap, milking it as you come with a cry of her name. Sevika fucks you through it, her hips never faltering, drawing out your pleasure until you're shaking beneath her. With a final, deep thrust, Sevika buries herself inside you, grinding her hips against yours as she finds her own release. You feel the thick strap pulse and throb inside you, her release flooding your channel, filling you up just like she promised.

"Fuck, baby," she pants, collapsing on top of you, her sweat-slicked skin pressing against yours. "Love you so goddamn much. Gonna keep this pussy full, keep you dripping with my come."

She peppers your face with kisses, her hands roaming over your body possessively. "You're mine." she murmurs against your lips. "All fucking mine. And I'm gonna make sure everyone knows it."

She rolls off of you, pulling you into her arms, your head resting on her chest. Her fingers brush out the slight undone braids she created earlier, her other hand splayed possessively over your stomach, holding you close.

"Gonna keep you forever, baby," she whispers, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "Gonna love you 'til the end of fucking time."

❥・・ ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈ ・・❥

[moonlightspencie]

do it for me

quote: “Like every serial killer already knew: eventually, fantasizing just doesn’t do it for you anymore”

Pairing: Dave Lizewski x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut!! (p in v, dirty talk, etc) it’s porn with little to no plot aka mdni

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: this is self indulgence at its finest

“Hey, study partner,” you sang out, giving Dave a cheeky smile as you opened the door of your apartment.

“Hey,” he gave a polite, though slightly nervous, smile back. 

You’d been paired together in your speech 101 class to complete a “group speech”. Though, at first you were certain you’d gotten the short end of the stick when you realized you were the only group of two in the class. Not to mention you got paired up with the quiet, kind of dorky guy. 

It only took two study sessions for your mind to change entirely.

His dorkiness quickly became endearing, especially when you realized just how cute he was up close. His messy hair and stupid glasses were stupidly attractive. He was surprisingly jacked under all the layers he normally wore. And, god, his eyes.

If he looked at you with his eyes all wide and innocent-looking one more time, you were certain you’d end up jumping him.

All of that, paired with how cute and blushy he got any time you flirted with him, was the perfect storm: you needed him bad.

You opened the front door of your apartment a little further, allowing him inside. He shuffled just past you, dropping his bag unceremoniously in order to pull off his shoes. You leaned against the wall to observe him as he did, finding yourself watching his every move like a hawk as of late. It was hard not to. You’d certainly had enough dirty dreams in the weeks prior, leading to even dirtier thoughts guiding your hand every time you go that familiar feeling fluttering in your stomach.

You only snapped out of it when he turned to you, his cheeks flushing a bit as he realized you were watching him. Only, you weren’t so nervous. You never were one to shy away from a crush. You merely smiled at him, pulling yourself off the wall and grabbing his arm.

“Come on,” you said, tugging him towards your room.

“W-what?” he blushed harder, quickly grabbing his bag as you pulled him along. “What about the… the living room?”

“My roommate is watching a movie in there with her boyfriend tonight,” you stated, omitting the fact that you asked her to occupy the space that night so you’d have an excuse to get him in your bedroom.

“Oh…” 

“It’s okay. My bed’s comfier anyway. Trust me,” you smirk over your shoulder, loving the fact that you could practically read what went through his mind in that moment.

That was the other thing you found yourself liking about Dave: you could read him like a book. Any time he was nervous, he fiddled with his hands. Any time he was stressed about class, he buried a hand in his hair roughly. And any time he was thinking dirty thoughts, those cute, pouty lips of his opened slightly and his eyes got all wide and round. Not to mention, he’d suck in a shaky breath. It was fucking endearing and horrifically sexy.

And he was doing it right then.

You turned over how you’d get your way as you pulled him into your room, though you knew it probably wouldn’t be hard. He obviously thought you were hot, and you still had plenty of time to do work on the speech before he’d leave.

You let go of him at last, shutting the door behind the both of you. You then shuffled over to your bed, sliding off your slippers before you got onto your bed, kneeling on the soft mattress. You patted the spot next to you, trying not to smile at the fact that he was looking at you as if he was thinking a little too hard about something else again. After a beat, though, he obeyed.

“Attaboy,” you mumbled, just to get another reaction out of him.

He cleared his throat, settling in uncomfortably. “So… Uh…”

“So…” you tilted your head in question, leaning in a little closer to him.

“Uh…” he gulped, looking down at you as you were mere inches from him. “Uh… We’re… Our topic is about killer whales, right?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, blinking your lashes at him. “Guess we gotta figure out how we’re doing it, huh?”

“What?” he squeaked out.

You grinned a little, raising a brow. He sucked in a breath when he finally pulled his head out of the gutter.

“Oh. Right. Right, yeah. How to… how to do it,” he nodded, too quickly to be natural. “Sorry, I don’t know where my head’s at.”

“That’s alright. No worries,” you smiled sweetly, resting a hand on his thigh gently.

He stiffened up physically, and you could only imagine the same happened in his pants. You squeezed his leg for a little extra emphasis. 

“You okay?” you asked.

“Mm… Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

He nodded a little, glancing briefly at your chest. You were in.

“Hey,” you said softly, rubbing up and down his leg. “You don’t need to act so shy. I don’t bite that hard.”

He blinked a few times, chewing on his lip. “I’m just… a little nervous.”

“Why?”

“Well… It’s just that… I mean that, that you’re–”

You chuckled to yourself. “I’m totally fucking with you, by the way.”

“What?” he asked, his voice high pitched.

“I said I’m fucking with you,” you repeated, sliding your hand up to his crotch. “Ooh. Someone’s excited, huh?”

“Uh…” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He paused, breathing heavy. “I don’t know.”

You laughed fully, moving your hand away again. He breathed out a sigh of relief, though you made sure to stop his relaxation in its tracks. You swung a leg over his hips, settling down onto his lap. He groaned, his hands grabbing at your thighs immediately.

“What are you doing?” he breathed out, clearly not protesting it.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you for weeks, Lizewski. You can’t seriously be that oblivious,” you muttered before smashing your lips into his.

He let out a shuddering, whiny moan into your lips, kissing you back like he’d been dreaming of it. You hoped he had been. You nipped his lip, getting him to open up for you to slide your tongue against his. He gripped your thighs and hips, his hands greedy as they wandered over your body. 

“You’re so pretty,” he gasped out as you moved your lips across his cheek and down his jaw. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

You hummed happily, moving your lips down his neck. You licked and sucked at his skin, drawing out a million little sounds from his lips. You nipped at him, then sucked hard on his skin, determined to leave a mark. He moaned your name, squeezing your ass with both hands, relishing in the feel of your body beneath your thin shorts.

“Shh, baby,” you mumbled, licking over the new mark on the base of his neck. “There. Looks real pretty.” “Shit,” he whimpered, trying like hell to move your hips over his.

“Desperate,” you whispered into his ear, obliging him with a roll of your body.

He moaned softly, needy and clearly wanting more. But you wanted to see how far you could push him. You rolled your hips again and again over the obvious erection straining against his baggy jeans. You couldn’t imagine it felt great, but all the same, he wasn’t complaining. He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck, his shaggy hair tickling the underside of your jaw.

“How’s it feel, baby?” you teased.

He merely groaned, staying silent for a few moments. “I… it kind of hurts. But please don’t stop.”

“Here,” you said, going up on your knees. “Pull your jeans down. It’ll feel better.”

He gulped, but quickly obliged your request. He clumsily pulled his jeans down his legs, clearly wanting and ready despite the fact that he looked like a deer in the headlights. You lowered yourself back down, grinding against him once more. He whined softly, guiding your hips with his eyes glued to where your bodies met through the fabric.

“Have you ever done anything like this?” you asked, a little amused at how excited he was.

“Only once… high school girlfriend…” he muttered in response. 

You chuckled softly. “Poor boy.”

He groaned, continuing to move you over his nearly-painful erection. You kissed down his neck, leaving a few marks for him to remember you by when he went to bed that night. He continued letting soft, pathetic noises fall from his lips, practically panting at this point.

“You getting close already, Lizewski?” you whispered, lips brushing his ear.

He merely nodded, his hands gripping you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. He breathed into your neck, chasing his release. But you couldn’t have that.

“You want more, don’t you?” you asked softly, winding your hand in his hair to give it a little tug.

He nodded his head, staring at you with a slack jaw.

“Okay, angel. What do you say?”

“P-please,” he whimpered softly.

You smiled to yourself, moving up on your knees and quickly working to shove his jeans down his thighs further. You paused, glancing up at him with a devilishly sweet smile.

“You think you can manage to pull those off the rest of the way so I can get my shorts off?” 

He nodded earnestly. “Yes. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you patted his leg, then rolled off of him to shimmy out of your shorts and panties, not wanting to wait any longer. 

You’d been patient for what felt like ages now, not jumping on the guy out of respect. But you were only a woman, and you could only put off your desires for so long: especially when he clearly wanted you just as much.

You kept your eyes on him as he pushed his briefs off, laying back on the bed with his chest heaving and hair messy around him. His cock was hard and ready and so gorgeous. He wasn’t massive or anything, but between the coloring and his shape, you were certain it was the prettiest you’d seen. The slightest curve pointing towards his tummy that was now partially exposed from his shirt riding up.

“Wow.”

“What?” He asked breathlessly, looking up at you with wide, wet eyes.

You smirked at his desperation. “You’re just really pretty like this.”

He whined softly, obviously trying not to look at your exposed lower half as you crawled towards him on the mattress again.

“I’m really glad we got paired up for this class,” you admitted, straddling his legs. “Don’t think I would’ve ever considered you otherwise. But now I can’t stop thinking about fucking you.”

“Fuck,” he sighed, his eyes falling shut. “Please.”

“You sound so sweet when you beg.”

“Please,” he repeated, looking at you in utter need, his hands sliding up your thighs and to your hips.

“Shh,” you whispered back to him, reaching down to stroke his firm cock. He practically squeaked, his hips thrusting into your hand. “You’re awfully responsive, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” he all but moaned in response. “God, you’re so pretty.”

“Thanks, honey,” you replied noncommittally, dragging his tip through your folds to gather the slick there. He let out a shaky groan, fingers tightening on your hips.

“Wait,” he exclaimed softly, shaking his head.

You raised a brow, stopping your movements. “You alright?”

“Yeah. No, I’m… I am so good, you have no idea,” he mumbled quickly, still staring at you. “I just… I’d really like to be on top. If that’s okay.”

You chuckled, then nodded, obliging his request. You rolled off of him, laying on your back with your head in the pillows.

“Only because you asked so nice.”

“Thank you,” he said, whiny and needy as he moved between your legs. He let out a breathy moan as he slid his tip against you again. “You’re so soft. Wet.”

“I know.”

“Mm…”

He moaned, nearly looking like he could cry, as he started pushing into you. His eyes were glued to where you swallowed the head of his cock easily, brows knit together as he breathed heavy. 

“God… fuck…” he whined, falling on top of you with his head in your neck, letting himself ease into you. You gasped softly when he finally bottomed out, feeling yourself gush around him. “Fuck. You feel so fucking good. So good.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you reply, carding your hand through his hair and tugging it softly.

He lifted his head to take off his glasses, setting them on your bedside table. 

“Thank you. For letting me do this,” he whimpered, his face lowering back to your neck. 

He started thrusting his hips against yours slowly, sucking and biting at your neck as you felt his cock drag along your walls almost teasingly. He breathed heavily, every little needy noise like music to your ears. You ran your nails across his back, wanting to mark him and make him remember you every waking moment of his life. 

“You feel perfect,” he squeaked out, his hips starting to snap harder against yours as he grew more needy chasing his release. “I’ve had a crush on you all year. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

You chuckled breathily, his body pinning yours to the mattress as his hand gripped the sheets above your head. He moaned at every thrust, practically using your body to get himself off. Not that you minded. It was unbelievably hot to see him so desperate for you that he almost couldn’t help the way he pushed himself into you. 

“I could cum inside you right now,” he moaned again, moving his head to kiss you once. “Promise I won’t. But I could… I’m so close.”

“You can cum anywhere you want.”

He groaned, kissing you again, all tongue and want. “Please… Take off the shirt. Wanna… your tits.”

“Yeah?”

“Please,” he begged, whining as he kept pushing into you. “Please. I’d do anything.”

“Okay, baby,” you complied with a self-satisfied smirk, tugging at your shirt until you were able to pull it over your head. You watched him as he eyes were drawn to your breasts bouncing in your bra before you pulled that off, too.

“Oh, god…”

“You like them, huh?”

“Love ‘em,” he groaned, gripping one of your tits roughly with his hand. “God.”

“Mm…” you moaned a little, back arching into his touch. “Fuck, I’m close, too.”

“Really?” His eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, shit. Okay. I’m… fuck, that’s so hot,” he said quickly, looking at you like you’d hung the stars just for him. “I– I’ll make you cum first. Promise.”

“Baby…”

“No, please. I wanna watch you,” he breathed out, eyes moving between your face and tits as he tried his damndest not to cum before you did.

You decided you’d be nice, just this once, and moved your hand between your bodies. You rubbed quick little circles around your clit as he kept railing you into the mattress, trying to get yourself to finish first. He whined as he kept going, squeezing his eyes shut as he clearly put in a lot of effort to hold himself off.

“You’re close?” he checked.

“Yeah. Really close. Almost there.”

“Mm…” he groaned, lowering his head and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

That did it.

You gasped, moaning his name as you clenched hard around his dick, soaking him in your release as he thrusted as fast as he could manage. Though you were left empty only a few seconds later as he pulled out, just in time to shoot his seed all over your bare chest. He groaned wantonly, stroking himself a little bit as he finished.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, voice high pitched and whiny. “Holy fuck. Fuck.”

“Yeah?”

He swallowed, mouth hung open as he tried catching his breath. “Uh huh.”

“You’re adorable,” you chuckled, watching as he sat down next to you, still trying to breathe normally again.

He nodded. “God damn.”

You reached for the tissues on your bedside table, wiping the cum off of your breasts as Dave fell back onto your bed in a combination of bliss and exhaustion. You chuckled at his actions, shaking your head.

“I think this makes our study sessions way more fun,” you offered after a moment.

Dave laughed breathlessly. “I think I’ll have to thank our professor.”

[dreamsteddie]

Related to my previous Rockstar Eddie Munson x Unimpressed Normal Guy Steve pose, I think when the RPF fanfiction comes onto Steve's radar he is extremely pissy about it.

I didn't really have an idea of when the original post was taking place, whether it was set in the cannon era and he finds out about RPF as it becomes a thing or if it's closer to the present day, but either way I think of Steve as someone who isn't very in tune with pop culture beyond a very shallow level of knowing only the very biggest music and movie icons by sight.

So either way fanfiction and RPF are not on his radar at all until he starts dating Eddie and starts being aware of his boyfriend's influence on pop culture and hoard of die-hard fans.

Eventually, Robin ends up sending him links to some truly terrible Sold Myself to One Direction RPF self-insert fanfictions centered around his partner. At first, Steve thinks it's funny because these people all write Eddie as super suave and sexy and imagining Eddie saying some of the dialogue makes him laugh harder than he has maybe in his entire life.

Until he skims through five or six of them and realizes that once you get through the more asinine details, the basic story elements are remarkably familiar.

MC gets reluctantly dragged to a place where Corroded Coffin is. MC is uninterested in whatever is happening. Eddie spots them in the crowd looking uninterested and instantly falls in love. Eddie woos a continually unimpressed MC until they fall in love and live happily ever after, Amen.

Steve has to put the screen away and just stare into the middle distance for a while once he realizes his real life is the stuff of a 14 year old's delusional fantasy.

[hairmetal666]

Eddie thought inviting Steve to the Grammys would be fine, cool, no big deal. And it should be, but Steve is walking out of the suite's bedroom wearing a burgundy tuxedo that fits him like a fucking glove. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let chest hair peak out, and Eddie thinks he might faint.

He's always been attracted to Steve, of course, but never let it go further than that. Like, sure, Steve was hot as fuck, and sure he was the best guy Eddie had ever met, and sometimes, yeah, he did have to force away thoughts of Steve when he jerked off, and in other circumstances he'd totally be head over heels. Just, Steve is straight, the straightest, a fucking arrow.

Eddie tears his eyes from Steve's body. "You look great, man." He slaps Steve's back. Keeping it cool; keeping it so cool.

"Psh," Steve says. "Have you looked in a mirror? Oh my god." His eyes are saucer wide as they travel down Eddie's body.

"Is it too much?" Eddie crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"Are you kidding? You're--fuck, man. You look good as hell."

He's wearing a silky burgundy shirt, open to show off the necklaces around his throat, his tattoos, the silver in his nipples. His pants are leather, tight, sitting low on his hips and putting the cut of his pelvic bone on full display. They have a lace-up closure that comes dangerously close to showing pube.

Heat rushes to his face at the compliment. "It's--you know. Hazard of the job."

"Yeah, hazard, sure. Guess it's a hard life having hot dudes literally throwing themselves at you."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "That's a vast exaggeration."

"Is it?"

He blushes harder. "You're my date tonight, Steve."

"My point exactly."

His manager and publicist usher them out the door before he can ask what the hell that meant.

---

The ride is giddy and playful, Steve popping champagne to celebrate Eddie's nomination for Song of the Year, even though there's no chance in hell he wins.

Steve is happy. His face is bright with joy, eyes shining, laugh loud and infectious. He's gorgeous, knows it, will be an absolute menace on the red carpet. He's been with Eddie to parties and stuff before, doesn't have any anxiety in front of the camera and isn't obsessed with musicians like Eddie is, unafraid to meet them.

Or so Eddie thought.

Because now they're standing at the edge of the red carpet, Steve very nearly trembling next to him.

"Harrington?"

"That's--That's Madonna." Steve points to her. "We're not even ten feet away from Madonna." He gulps. "Eddie. Madonna."

Steve has met famous people before with Eddie. Ozzy, briefly, Janet Jackson, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, and he'd always been fine. Barely batted an eye. But get him within reaching distance of Madonna and he falls apart.

Eddie doesn't think about it, grabs Steve's hand, twines their fingers together. "Okay?"

The smile Steve throws him, grateful and a little embarrassed, stabs straight through his heart. He calms as they make it up the carpet, but he doesn't drop Eddie's hand, even when they pause for pictures. In fact, he leans into it, drapes his arm around Eddie's shoulders, or around his waist, seeming to thrive the closer they are. Eddie feels this dangerous pull to indulge in it, to let himself believe it means something, and he doesn't quite have it in him to turn it off.

By the time they reach their seats, Steve is relaxed back to his normal charming and handsome self, doesn't bat an eye as Eddie introduces him around.

The show passes quickly with all the performances and Steve whispering jokes in his ear. It's the best time he's ever had at an award show, like he should have been bringing Steve along this whole time. He's so distracted that he's not really ready when Paula Abdul comes out to announce Song of the Year.

His name is read off as a nominee and Steve grabs his hand, squeezes tight. Eddie's heart flips in his chest. He's not paying attention when Paula opens the envelope, too focused on Steve's strong hand holding his. He hears her say, "And the Grammy goes to--" and everything goes fuzzy.

Steve is saying, "oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. Get up, get up."

And his fucking song is playing and everyone is cheering, a couple people slap his back, and oh shit, oh shit, he fucking won. He stands, Steve with him. He thinks they're going to hug, that's what you do in these situations, but Steve is kissing him. Not on the cheek and not a quick peck, but lip-to-lip, soft and sweet.

Steve just kissed him and he has to get on stage and give a speech. He has no idea what he says because Steve just kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. His ears are ringing and words tumble out of his mouth, thinks he says, "couldn't have done it without you, Stevie," before tripping over his feet to get backstage.

Interviews, photographs, congratulations all help him settle. He's still buzzing with the win, but aware enough now to think the kiss had to be an accident. They've been friends for nearly a decade and Steve never seemed interested in men generally or Eddie specifically.

It takes a while to finish up the backstage business, but when he makes it to his seat, Steve just beams at him. He doesn't mention the kiss, which makes Eddie think he's overreacting. It wasn't a big deal. Sure, he could still feel Steve's lips, warm and soft, against his own, but it didn't mean anything. He's just too in his big gay feelings to be objective.

They don't get a chance to really talk until they're back in the limo and on their way to the after-party.

"You won," Steve says.

"I won." Eddie smiles. "Crazy."

"You deserved it."

He shrugs. "I don't know about that."

"Doesn't matter. You did." Steve fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "About earlier, um. The kiss. I--"

Eddie feels his face heating, heart kicking up. It was nothing, he knows, and Steve shouldn't have to-- "It was an accident. It's okay. I know you don't--it was the heat of the moment and--I know you're not--you don't--"

Steve blinks a lot, emotions flashing across his face faster than Eddie can categorize.

"What if I do?" Steve asks. His voice is too soft, eyes locked on the cuff link he's fiddling with.

"You--what?"

"What if I did mean it?"

"You're straight."

Steve goes pink. "I'm really not."

"Steve?" He shrieks. "Since when?"

"Um. Since you invited me to this?"

"What the fuck?" Eddie shoves him. "What the fuck, man?"

"I know, I know!" Steve pulls his hand through his hair. "You invited me and I freaked out and I didn't know why, and Robin made the saddest little face at me. Said, 'oh, dingus, you didn't know?' How the fuck was I supposed to know!"

"I think you wanting to fuck me should've been a pretty good indication!"

"I thought that happened to everyone!"

"It doesn't!"

"That's what Robin said!"

They're both yelling.

"Jesus christ. Jesus christ," Eddie keeps repeating.

"Look, I get it if you don't want me too, dude. I know that's not how it works, but I've been pretty crazy about you without realizing it for a while now, so--"

He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he laughs. Like, super loud. Like a donkey bray.

"Okay, can the driver let me out? Like, can I go? I can't--"

"Wait, wait, sweetheart." Steve's gotten up, like he's about to knock on the partition, but Eddie grabs his wrist. "Of course I want you back, you idiot, oh my god."

"Oh." Steve's ears are pink. "Oh. Well. That's good."

Eddie huffs. "Just good? I won a Grammy and the guy I've been pining over for years wants me back. I'm having the night of my life."

"Shut-up." Steve's smile is so big, his eyes so bright.

He raises an eyebrow. "Make me," he says in his lowest register, but he's truly not prepared for it when Steve clambers over to him and lowers himself to straddle Eddie's hips.

"Holy shit," Eddie whispers. "Holy shit, Steve."

He give a wry little smile, eyes locked on Eddie's mouth. "Baby, can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Eddie clears his throat. "Yes, please, do that. Yeah."

Only, he doesn't. He's straddling Eddie, they're so close their breath mingles, and Steve's eyes flicker between Eddie's mouth and his eyes, lips so close to touching but not.

"C'mon, asshole," Eddie says.

"I knew you'd be a brat." He whispers. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair. "Been dying to do this."

And then they're kissing. They're kissing and it steals all of Eddie's breath and his thoughts, and it's new but it's also like they've been kissing forever, like their lips and tongue know each other, like coming home.

He whines, high-pitched and breathy, and Steve laughs, kisses him deeper, moves closer, and Eddie feels how hard Steve is, the persistent pulse of him. And shit Eddie's close, on the brink just from this, from nothing, oh my god.

Steve's hands drift down Eddie's torso, mapping his chest and his stomach, coming to rest at the laces of his pants. "These have been driving me insane," Steve breaks the kiss to say. "Been thinking about undoing them all night."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that," Eddie groans.

"Why not?"

"Because--because," Eddie sputters but then Steve's lips are on his neck and he's rolling his hips for friction.

Steve's fingers find the laces again, trace against them. Eddie's legs fall open, arching into the touch. "We're going to be so late," he murmurs as Steve's fingers get to work.

[nimuraz]

WORD COUNT — 2.3K

WARNINGS — have you ever tried this one? fingering, pet name usage, sub!jake, hand jobs, cum eating, sex toys (let me know if i missed anything)

NOTES — hii guys thank u for the support on just for now, i will be splitting juno up into 2 parts so stay tuned for the next part! at the end of the fic i did include the pics of the lingerie that u can imagine wearing hehe~

jake was the sweetest man alive. always bringing you flowers, buying you food, being the shoulder you cry on, yes everything about him was so so sweet. even in bed he was so gentle and sweet, you didn’t hate it by any means but you were starting to get bored.

“jakey… can we talk for a sec?” the hesitation in your voice is unmistakable—how on earth are you supposed to tell your sweet, caring boyfriend that you want to go at it like rabbits?

“yea, pretty. what’s up?” he says enthusiastically. somehow that’s making it harder for you.

both of you are on the couch, your legs pulled up to your chest while he sits normally, his hand resting on your knee. as you call out to him once more, the touch makes it even harder for you to find the words.

“in the most normal way possible… do you have anything you’re into? like… i don’t know… any kinks?” you try saying this sweetly. his eyes widen and a soft chuckle escapes his lips.

“mm… i dunno really…” he trails off into thought and to be honest now that he thinks of it he does wanna try some things out.

“i wouldn’t consider them kinks but probably more of like… things i would be down to try?” he says before laughing again softly. his hand on ur knee trailing down to squeeze your thigh.

“let’s hear it!” you say laughing shortly after. his hand on your thigh ignites a fire beneath your skin. ‘this is gonna be a long night’* you think, before offering him a reassuring smile.

“maybe you on top?” he suggests, biting his bottom lip with a smug grin spreading across his face. “want you to be a little rough with me too… tug on my hair, yank me around here and there.” he squeezes your thigh a bit tighter. your glossy eyes meet his, you nod your head softly, encouraging him to continue.

“make me feel good, but also use me, princess.” he whispered before scooting closer to you, his hand now in your inner thigh.

“use you…?” you whisper back. your breath was caught in your chest.

“mhm… do whatever you need to get yourself off, worry about me after.” his voice barely above a whisper. you look at him and smile before putting your legs back down, your feet hitting the floor.

you thought about what jake had said and ever since then you hate to admit it but you were so so needy and per usual, you texted jake.

you: jakeyyy

jake: yes baby?

you: can you come over? pretty pleaseeee

jake: give me like an hour

is that okay?

‘more than okay…’ you thought to yourself. it felt like a lightbulb went off in your head.

you: yea that’s perf muah see u then

jake: see you my love

you hop in the shower and somehow manage to shave everything. once you’re out, you head to your closet, searching for something to wear. yes you wanted to sleep with him, but you definitely didn’t need him struggling to pull down a pair of blue jeans to make it happen.

you sift through all your clothes until you remember—the baby pink lace lingerie you bought a few days ago, still sitting in its packaging. squatting down, you search through the shoe boxes, hoping to find it, and finally, you do.

you unpackaged it and smile to yourself before putting it on. glancing in the mirror your smile widens. you continue getting ready, doing your usual makeup routine and fluffing out your hair.

after what feels like forever, an hour passes, and you finally hear a knock at the door. you quickly put a robe on and walk over to the front door of your apartment.

“jakey!” you say softly before wrapping your around around his shoulders.

“someone’s in a good mood,” he teases, giving you a gentle squeeze in the hug. of course you were in a good mood. you pepper soft kisses all over his face as he closes the door behind him.

he lets out the cutest giggle you’ve ever heard come out of him.

“just missed you…” you say sweetly before dragging him to the couch with you. the quiet background noise of the tv playing a random channel plays as you focus on jake.

“so what’d you wanna do hm?” he says softly as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close to his chest. his other hand running slowly up and down your thigh.

“anything… everything…” you mutter before looking up to him sweetly. you shift, draping your legs over his thighs, so close to settling onto his lap.

the bottom of the robe rides up, bunching up on the top of your thighs, of course this doesn’t go unnoticed by your sweet boyfriend who’s trying so hard to not look.

“mm… wanna watch a movie?” he murmurs softly, his breath catching as you move your free hand to untie your robe, letting it fall open without fully taking it off just yet.

“we can… or we can do something else…” you whisper against the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his back.

unbeknownst to both of you, the tv starts cycling through various pop star performances. this hour’s feature is sabrina carpenter, her playful voice and melodies perfectly complementing the atmosphere.

jake runs his slender fingers through your fluffed out hair. “yeah?” he whispers, his eyes locked on your glossy gaze. with one swift move, he pulls you onto his lap, you let out a tiny yelp causing the both of you to laugh softly. he thumbs at your outer thigh gently.

“what do you wanna do, pretty girl…?” he whispers before grazing your neck with his lips. he starts kissing so softly the way he always does. a soft huff escapes your lips before you speak again.

“wanna make you feel good…” your voice barely above a whisper. “wanna have fun with you.” you let out a louder moan as he starts sucking on the skin of your neck. his free hand moves to your shoulders, gently sliding the robe off.

you let him remove the article of clothing, it soon falling to the arm of the couch behind you.

“oh…” he gasps lightly as he looks down at you. the pink lace top lingerie covering just above your soft buds. “you look so pretty… not that you don’t always do just-“

you cut him off, kiss harsh and demanding. an unusual feel to what you both usually do with each other. his eyes flutter open at the sensation before he cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. his eyes slowly start closing again. he lets out a soft hum as you bite his bottom lip.

you pull away and peck his lips before shifting over to straddle him.

“better…” you whisper before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and dipping back down to kiss him again. his hands running up and down your sides gently.

“do you like it…?” you mumble against his lips.

“what? the surprise of you in this skimpy little outfit?” his tone playful. you smile against his lips before kissing him again. he takes this opportunity to rub your hips gently, this sparks an idea in your head too.

you start shifting your hips back and forth gently, a quiet groan tries to release from his lips but they were muffled by your sweet kisses. his grip on your hips tightens before he starts moving you himself, grinding you harder against his aching core.

“bed…” he mumbles against your lips before swiftly lifting the both of you up from the couch. he lays you down on the bed gently before putting his hands back on you.

“so pretty… my perfect girl…” he says in between kisses. you clench around nothing. “s’tied on the sides? how cute…” he starts toying with the ribbons on the side of the lace panties before undoing the knots on one side.

“i wanna try what we talked about.” your words come out in soft pants.

“only if you’re comfortable, angel…” here he goes being the sweetest person alive.

“but i want you to be rough with me too.” you pant once again.

“are you sure?” he gazes up at you. fluffy strands of hair framing his face as he dips down to get closer a better look of you. you nod quickly.

“i also have… toys, we can use.” you hesitantly say. his ears perk up. he nods slowly, taking in what you just said. you tug him back down by his neck, eager for more kisses, and fuck, he can feel you everywhere—your lips on his, your hands digging into his chest, clawing at his shirt, your legs pressing against his. a sweet whimper was all he could let out when you pull away from the kiss.

he pulls you closer by the waist, squeezing the skin that laid on your bones so perfectly, he thought to himself. he leans his body down to suck on your neck, his tongue licking stripes up and down the skin earning a soft moan from you.

“more jae…” jae. it’s what you seemed to only call him during times like this or when you’re sobbing after a long day and he’s there to hold you.

“i’ve got you, baby doll.” and that’s what he calls you.

the soft music from the living room tv drifts into your room as the tension rises. what a coincidence—your favorite sabrina carpenter song, juno, is playing.

he continues his kisses down your neck before untying the other side of the lace panties, his kisses get harsher and hotter. his tongue licking softly at your bottom lip. you instinctively open your lips just enough for him to slip his tongue in, all he could think of was inhaling you. your scent, your taste, the feel of you. he needed it all so deep inside of him. he takes the hand he used to undo the knot and slips the lace covering your bare core to the side before rubbing your clit in soft circles.

you moan into the kiss before trailing your hands up to his nape, tugging on the soft strands just like he told you too. he moans, but not like the moans you’re usually used to. he sounded so spent and needy and all you’ve done was kiss.

he starts rubbing your sensitive bud faster before dipping his fingers down to your soaking hole just to play with your arousal, smearing it back up to your clit.

“baby…” he babbles as you keep tugging on the strands, his fingers working faster against you. you buck your hips up seeking more friction, it just wasn’t enough. he chuckles softly against your lips before biting down on your bottom lip.

“just like that jae— mmh…” you moan out.

“you feel so soft… so perfect…” he murmurs into your lips, craving the warmth, the sounds, the touch—desperate to be consumed by it all.

“check- nngh jae- check the box under my bed…” you manage to whisper out. a soft gasp leaves your lips when he stops his motions.

he dips down next to the bed and reaches for the box, sliding the pink plastic box towards him then up onto the bed.

you smile hazily at him. “open it…” so he does.

dildos, vibrators, a cock ring, and… fuzzy pink handcuffs?

“ooo…” jake playfully says, earning a soft giggle from you. he takes the hand cuffs out and dangles them in front of your face. “so who goes first?”

“you’re asking as if you aren’t dying to go first…” you roll your eyes playfully before sitting up on your elbows to get a better view of him.

“you caught me!” he jokes as he puts his hands up in surrender, a stupid smile on both your faces.

‘this feels so fun…’ you thought to yourself before immediately gasping when his lips meet your collarbones. he nips and nips, your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. never has he ever even thought about leaving hickeys on you, god he always treated you like a porcelain doll during your intimate moments.

he sucks, and nips, and licks, all causing you to grip onto his biceps. he pulls back and looking at the small bruises forming. “pretty.”

you smile softly before sitting upright and taking the cuffs from his hands. you slowly guide him down the bed so he’s laying next to you before you kiss his lips again, the taste of mint and was that mango?* lingering on his tongue.

“off. everything.” you mutter, he wastes no time in removing everything but his boxers. “these too.” you say softly. he nods rapidly before taking his boxers off leaving him completely bare in front of you. you look down at his half hard cock and grin. “lay back.” and again he follows, without hesitation.

you loop the hand cuffs around your bed frame, the clanks of the metals clashing arousing jake up even more, his cock twitching.

“arms up.” you speak firmly, deliberately avoiding eye contact with him. he glances up at you with those endearing eyes, knowing full well that you can't resist him when he looks at you that way. you finally lock the hand cuffs and smile sweetly at him. “just hold still jakey…”

it didn’t take long for you to have jake trembling under you. your hand stroking his aching cock as your lips left marks all over his abs.

“s’too much y/n please-“ a strangled moan leaves his mouth, only motivating you more. you wrap your lips around his red tip, leaking precum and twitching while his veins protrude. it almost looked painful. you chuckle softly around his head, earning a loud groan from him.

“think you can keep being a good boy for me…?” you tease before kissing down his shaft. he pathetically nods his head.

“anything for you please i’ll do anything…” he breathes out, his voice cracking in the process. you release his length and move to the side of the bed, leaning over to get something from your nightstand.

“just relax for me jakey… just wanna make you feel good…” you say reassuringly before lubing up your fingers. “deep breaths baby…”

the sweet whimper that leaves his lips at the feel of you in his walls has you shaking. “y/n holy fuck-“

you start pumping your middle finger in and out of him in a more steady pace before using your other hand to stroke his leaking cock again. he squirms and whimpers beneath you, you gaze up to look at his face— it was enough to have you dripping in your own arousal.

you tighten your fist on his dick and start picking up the pace of both hands. he’s shaking and almost yelling at this point. the hand cuffs creating red marks around his delicate wrists.

“you wanted this jakey didn’t you… you wanted me to play with you and be rough right?” you speak in a gentle tone, a harsh contrast to your actions as you add another finger. he can’t form a response, the words lodged in his throat, refusing to come out.

“s’good…” he babbled. “gonna cum… please i’m so close y/n…” and then he breaks, strings of his release landing on his flexed abs and your soft hand.

you gently remove your fingers from inside him and look up at him before licking up his release that dripped down the side of his waist.

yea this was gonna be a long night.

[uzurakis]

"i just don't understaaaand," you slurred, hiccuping between the words. "why wasn't i, hic, enouuugh?"

the night was a haze of tears and drunken laughter as you vented your frustrations and heartbreak to suguru, ever the supportive best friend, stayed by your side. he listened intently whilst you nursed the sting of your recent breakup with a bottle of whiskey.

suguru sighed, purple eyes filled with empathy and eyebrows furrowed in remorse. "you’re enough and it's his loss, honestly. he didn't deserve you."

you took another swig of the whiskey, feeling the burn slide down your throat. suguru watched with concern as you took another, another, and another other until he gently took the bottle from your hand.

"hey, enough. that’s enough," he said softly, placing the bottle out of your reach. "you've had too much already."

you pouted, leaning against him heavily. "i can, hic, handle it! just one more drink, pleeaaase . .” granting him your doe eyes, believing that this appeal would make him yield. “suuuguuruuuu . . .”

"don’t ‘suguruu’ me," your best friend replied firmly. "nope. i'm cutting you off."

your eyes narrowed in engaging determination as you tried to reach past him for the bottle. he placed it further away on the table, just out of your grasp. you leaned forward, stretching your arm as far as you could, your fingertips just brushing the bottle's neck.

"come onnnn, suguruuu," your whining didn’t stop, every sentence was slurred and pleading. "justt one, one more sip. i swear!”

he shook his head, "you're going to regret this in the morning."

ignoring his warning, you leaned further, almost losing your balance as you reached for the bottle again. your body pressed against his as you stretched, your fingers just barely touching the bottle's edge before it slipped further out of reach.

when your fingers lightly grazed his hand while reaching for the bottle, he felt a flutter of nerves ripple through him. the casual touch of your skin against his sent a warmth spreading through his chest, making his heart beat just a little faster. he tried to act normal, keeping his breaths steady and his expressions neutral, but the truth was, he relished those moments more than he would ever admit, even if it was merely your skin grazing his. oh, how much he was longing for every piece of you. the proximity was intoxicating, and every time you leaned in closer, the guy found it harder to keep his emotions in check.

were you supposed to feel this way for your own best friend?

geto suguru forever questioned himself.

"suguruu, pleasee," you begged for the nth time this minute. he gulped, his resolve wavering slightly. but when you tried again, practically climbing over him in your attempt to grab the bottle, he gently but firmly pulled you back.

"okay, that's enough," he said, voice a little more stern. "you're going to hurt yourself."

you huffed in frustration, slumping back against the couch. "hmph, fine," you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest.

suguru watched you for a moment, his eyes softening. he hated seeing you like this, no, he hated feeling like this. it’s miserable, his heart ached to comfort you, to hold you close and tell you everything would be okay, but he knew that his own emotions were a mess of longing and guilt. the more he tried to push his feelings aside, the stronger they seemed to become.

suguru felt trapped, his heart caught between wanting to be there for you as a friend and struggling with the intense feeling he felt for you. with a resigned sigh, he picked up the bottle and took a long drink himself, grimacing as the alcohol burned down his throat. it was still half full, but he drank it all in one go.

"there," he said, wiping his mouth, slightly grinning. "now you can't have any more."

“noooo!” you panicked, a little too loudly, and playfully grabbing his shoulders back and forth. "that was, hic, still mineee!”

he chuckled, the alcohol already making his head swim. "hmm that's what friends are for."

a comfortable silence settled between you two. now the room was spinning slightly from the alcohol, and the world felt a little softer, a little more forgiving. you looked up at suguru, noticing how close his face was to yours. his eyes were dark and filled with something you couldn't quite place.

just then, suguru leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. he could swear it was the alcohol, it wasn’t him. you froze for a moment, your mind clouded by the booze, and then you kissed him back. the world seemed to blur around you as the kiss deepened, both of you lost in the moment.

suguru’s lips were unexpectedly warm and soft against yours, and the moment they touched, the world seemed to fade away. the sorrow of your breakup, the weight of your heartache, all vanished in an instant. your ex was a distant memory, a shadow that no longer held any power over you. instead, all you could think about was suguru; way he had always been there for you, the way he had listened and comforted you without expecting anything in return. his touch, his presence, felt like where you should have been all along.

this time, you realized, with a sudden clarity, that suguru was the one who had always stayed by your side. it was him who cared for you, who truly understood you in a way no one else ever had.

his hand cupped your face tenderly, his thumb brushing away the last remnants of your tears. suddenly you felt sober again, under no influence besides the whole situation. in that instant, everything seemed to make sense. the pieces of your shattered heart were slowly mending, guided by the warmth of suguru’s affection. as you pulled back slightly to catch your breath, you looked into his eyes and saw a reflection of your own emotions; love, longing, and a deep, abiding connection that had always been there, just waiting to be discovered.

“suguru . .” you whispered.

“i’ve always been here,” he said quietly, his breath mingling with yours. “and i always will be.”

“so please, look at me this one time.”

n. tagging @sugulani cz i promised ya <3 (ITS NOT STONER SUGURU BUT SURPRISEE! i will write dat anotha time 🙂‍↕️)

@uzurakis

[d3vilcvntz]

teacher's pet <3

ftm older character x top amab reader (reader is around 18 while the teacher is 30+ )

cw; teacher and student relationship, obsessive behaviour, pregnancy ment in the end

you were a good student, always listened to whatever he said. sometimes, you would make small talks with him after class and he enjoyed your company.

but he really shouldn't be having these kind of thoughts at all, especially when you're his students that are way younger than he is but it's not his fault that he can't stop himself, you're just so tempting !

fingering his pussy in the class when everyone's gone, sitting on your desk. he wondered how your cock would feel inside him <3

he feels super guilty when he had to see you the next day. you greeted him like normal, giving him a handshake.

he went to the bathroom right after, giving excuses that he's feeling unwell, just to fingered himself with his hand that you just touched. he shouldn't be like this over a student. it's wrong and he knew that.

going back to class, admiring you while you were doing works. you look so good without even trying.

you approached him one day, asking him to be your private tutor because you really wanted to get better grades and he quickly agrees to it

just thinking about it get him all excited already ! you arrived at his place after school and he happily invited you in

teaching you all the things you never know and giving you extra tips to pass your final exams. you innocently got close to his face to hear better but the way you smells really turns him on ! he can feel himself getting wet from it, pushing his thighs together, trying to restraints himself from just pounding on you.

you left after a few hours of studying with him, accidentally leaving behind your handkerchief.

pushing the dildo in while smelling your handkerchief, imagining the plastic toy as you instead, making him cum quicker than anything ever done !

he saw you with a girl the next morning, the girl was giving you a letter, love letter to be specific. clenching his fist, he feels himself getting ridiculously jealous over some stupid whore trying to take you away from him

he 'accidentally' got the girl expelled few days later from the school because of some rumours, saying the girl has been sleeping around for money and better grades. he swear he doesn't know who started the rumours at all !

right before the holiday, you meet him once again, telling him about how you liked him from the start but never know how to tell him. you told him that it's fine if he rejected you, but to your surprise, he told you that he'd be more than happy to be with you ! he told you that this will be your guys little secrets and you eagerly agreed, you'll do anything if it means you can be with him.

"is this really your first time?" he asked while unbuttoning your shirt. you nodded and he smiled softly, he's so happy that you gave him your first time ♡

riding your cock so eagerly, hands playing with his own nipples. moans filling up the room as you grips his hips and thrust harder into him. feeling yourself getting closer, your thrusts became more sloppy. you didn't even had time to pull out, you were glad that you wore condom or that's what he wants you to think.

imagine your surprise when he told you a few weeks later that he's pregnant and it's definitely yours ? you were shocked but agreed to take care of the child together with him. his plans worked after all, now you're together with him forever <3

[capquinn]

Attagirl | Q. Hughes

summary: this table is the perfect height for frantic can’t-wait-another-second table sex... pairing: quinn hughes x reader content: MDNI 18+ only smut, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk word count: 2k ↪masterlist

Like, imagine being bent over the edge, the table bracing you just right, and Quinn’s hands are firmly gripping your hips — or maybe your ass, because he’s losing it, his head tipped back because he’s trying to hold on to some semblance of control but failing miserably. His fingers dig in with just enough pressure to leave faint marks, and every snap of his hips is rough and desperate, like he’s chasing relief as much as he’s giving it.

You can hear his heavy breaths, those low groans he tries to stifle but absolutely can’t, because the angle is just that good. His forehead might press to your shoulder or your back for a moment, muttering all these breathless little praises, low and hoarse, because Quinn Hughes might be a quiet guy normally, but here? Oh no, he’s anything but.

"You feel so good, baby," he murmurs, his voice cracking slightly with the effort of holding himself together.

And just when you think he might slow down, might let you catch your breath, he straightens back up, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulls you even harder against him, the table creaking beneath you both. Each snap of his hips is harder, more desperate, his voice raw now, barely more than a rasp, spilling praises and murmurs between gasps.

"Just like that, baby… so perfect."

His rhythm stutters for just a moment as he groans low, his hands sliding up your sides, gripping just below your ribs to pull you even closer. He leans forward again, his lips brushing over your shoulder, leaving messy kisses in between murmuring your name like a prayer.

But then, with a shaky inhale, he straightens up, his hands dragging back down to your hips as he tries to steady himself to keep from completely unraveling.

And that's when you glance back, just for a second, your cheek flat against the table, and catch sight of him. His hair is a mess, sticking to his damp forehead, and he’s looking down at you with this half-lidded, almost dazed expression, lips parted like he’s trying to catch his breath.

But then, just as your eyes meet, his lips twitch into a smirk. It’s small at first, but it grows, and suddenly it’s unmistakable. He tries to hide it, dragging his shoulder up to his mouth, rubbing it there like he’s trying to cover his own reaction, but it’s completely useless. That grin is still there, playful and self-assured.

"What're you smiling at?" you manage to mumble, though your voice is shaky, wrecked, the edge of the table digging into your hips with every push of his.

"You," he replies, voice low and teasing, his hands tightening their grip on your hips as he leans down, breath hot against your shoulder, just before his teeth nip at your skin. "You look so fucking good right now."

And with that, any hope you had of catching your breath is gone, because Quinn isn’t slowing down — if anything, that smirk only reignites him, his rhythm rougher now, more deliberate, like he’s determined to leave you just as undone as he feels. The table creaks under the force of it, matching the uneven sounds of his breathing and your quiet, broken gasps.

Then, his hands shift. One leaves your waist, sliding up your arm before grabbing your wrist and guiding it behind your back. The motion is fluid, firm but not harsh, and when he pins your arm there, his grip tightens just enough to make your pulse quicken. His other hand stays locked on your hip, holding you steady against the unrelenting pace, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave an imprint you’ll feel tomorrow.

You try to twist, to glance back at him, but the pressure of his grip and the overwhelming force of his movements keep you rooted in place. And then he’s leaning closer again, his lips brushing your shoulder before dragging up to your ear.

"Wish you could see yourself right now, baby." His voice is ragged, every word dripping with a mix of awe and raw intensity that sends shivers racing down your spine. "You’d see how fucking beautiful you look."

The table rocks harder under the force of him, each sharp thrust dragging you forward and slamming you back against his hips, leaving no room for thought, no space for anything but the raw, unforgiving rhythm. It’s overwhelming. The bruising grip of his hands on your skin. The slick, obscene sound of skin meeting skin. His ragged breaths and the broken moans he’s pulling from you with every movement.

His voice cuts through the haze, low and wrecked, a string of curses and half-formed praises tumbling from his lips.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice thick with desperation, each word sending shivers racing down your spine. "You feel so—" His rhythm stutters again for a moment, hips faltering before he pushes harder, his grip on you tightening. "So fucking perfect, baby. Made for this."

His forehead presses to your shoulder again, his breath hot and heavy against your skin, and for a moment, he just stays like that — so close you can feel the tremor in his muscles, the way his control teeters on the edge with every thrust. He tightens his grip on your arm, his fingers flexing like he’s holding on to you, to the moment, to the feeling of you.

"You’re driving me fucking insane," he groans, the words tumbling out as though he can’t stop them, his teeth grazing your shoulder before leaving a kiss just below the marks he’s already left. "Can’t get enough of you."

Your body arches instinctively, every nerve igniting as his pace stutters for just a moment before picking up again — harder, sharper, like he’s chasing a high he can’t quite reach.

"Attagirl," he mutters, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. It’s there, just enough to make your stomach flip, and then his grip on your pinned arm tightens slightly, bracing you even firmer against his steady pace.

And when you glance back again, daring to meet his gaze despite the haze clouding your thoughts, he’s still watching you. His pupils are blown, his damp hair sticking to his skin and curling at the edges, his chest heaving as he keeps up the rough, desperate rhythm. That damn smirk is there, lingering on his lips, softer now but no less confident, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

The tension coils tighter and tighter, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge until it feels like you’re balancing on the precipice, your whole body wound so tightly you might snap. Quinn’s pace is relentless now, hips slamming against you with bruising force, his grip on your arm firm enough to hold you steady but still trembling with the effort of holding himself back.

"You’re so close," he mutters, voice low and wrecked, the smirk on his lips softening into something almost reverent as he watches the way your body reacts to him. "Can feel it, baby. Let go for me."

And then he shifts, his hand sliding down from your waist to press firmly against the curve of your hip, his other hand moving to rest against your lower abdomen. The added pressure sends a jolt of electricity through your body, amplifying every sensation until it’s almost too much. The sharp, deliberate thrusts push you closer to the edge, his touch grounding you while setting you alight at the same time.

"Right there," he groans, his voice raw and unsteady, the pressure of his hand against your abdomen making every movement more intense, more precise. "You feel that? Right there — feels good, huh?"

Your knees nearly buckle, the intensity stealing the breath from your lungs as you grip the edge of the table for dear life. The added weight of his hand presses you down just enough to sharpen the angle, to make every thrust hit deeper, harder, leaving you gasping his name over and over and over again.

"That’s it," he mutters, his hand tightening on your hip. "I’ve got you."

The combination of his words, the firm hold of his hands, and the deep, steady pace is enough to send you careening over the edge, your release crashing through you in waves so powerful your whole body trembles. His grip on your arm and abdomen holds you steady as you unravel, his own rhythm faltering as he chases his high, groaning your name as he lets himself fall with you.

His forehead drops to your shoulder as his rhythm falters, a low, guttural groan ripping from his chest as his release overtakes him. The sound is desperate, almost a whine, his breath hitching as his body tightens for a split second before shuddering, and his grip on your skin tightens, his fingers digging into as he spills into you, his movements slowing but still deep and deliberate, drawing out every last wave of his orgasm.

For a moment, his weight rests heavily against you, his chest rising and falling against your back as he lets the overwhelming sensation take him. He presses his lips to your shoulder, the kiss lingering there as his breath fans over your skin, hot and uneven. From there, his mouth moves slowly, trailing soft, deliberate kisses up the curve of your neck, each one leaving a spark in its wake. His lips find that sensitive spot just below your jaw, lingering for a moment longer as his nose brushes against your skin, drawing a quiet gasp from you. Finally, he tilts your chin gently with his hand, angling your face toward him. His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s deep and unhurried, a stark contrast to the urgency of moments ago. It’s reverent, his hand sliding up your side to rest on your ribs, holding you close as his other hand loosens its grip on your wrist, finally freeing you.

As he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath still hot and ragged, mingling with your own. His hand trails down your arm, brushing lightly over your skin before his fingers tangle with yours, grounding both of you in the quiet intimacy that now lingers between you.

You both stay like that for a moment, the room heavy with the scent of sweat and the fading intensity of what just unfolded. Slowly, he straightens, his hands steady on your waist as he helps you up from the table, the wood cool against your flushed skin as you shift away. Your legs tremble slightly, and his grip tightens instinctively, his touch an assurance.

The adrenaline gives way to something softer. He steps closer, wrapping his arms fully around you, pulling you into his chest. His chin rests on the top of your head, and you feel the weight of his exhale against your hair, like he’s finally allowing himself to let go of whatever had been pent up inside him.

"You okay?" he murmurs softly, his voice low but steady, the words vibrating against your temple.

You nod against him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

"Yeah," you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips. "More than okay."

His hands splay against your back, holding you tighter, his lips pressing another lingering kiss to your hairline. The silence stretches between you, comfortable now, filled with the kind of closeness that doesn’t need words. And when he finally pulls back, his hands linger at your sides, his thumb brushing absently over your skin as he looks down at you, his gaze warm and soft.

And just like that, you both breathe.