#the leg in the first one absolutely sends me

[leriexoxo]

SKZ HEADCANONS

Bf! Stray Kids and how they jerk off to you (hyung line)

Maknae Line

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A/N: Requests for ONLY headcanons are open for now. Please note that I prefer to respond to non anonymous requests, cause I’m pretty serious about minors not interacting with me 🧡

——

Bang Chan

He shouldn’t be doing this here. Not in the studio. Not with the door unlocked. But he’s too far gone now.

You’d sent a voice note not even ten minutes ago—your breath hitching as you moaned his name, whispering, “You miss this pussy, don’t you?” He damn near crushed his phone when he heard it. And now?

Now he’s bent over the edge of the desk, pants barely shoved past his thighs, palm slapping against his cock with no rhythm, no control. It’s not gentle. It’s not sweet. It’s rage-fueled need—like if he doesn’t cum soon, he’ll lose his fucking mind.

“Fucking hell, baby—look what you do to me,” he pants, spit-slick hand pumping with obscene squelches, cum already dripping from earlier rounds he didn’t clean up.

He spreads it—uses it—moaning into his arm, hips bucking like he’s imagining your throat around him, choking and drooling like a good girl.

“Bet you’re touching yourself too, huh?” he growls, neck veins popping. “Bet you’re fuckin’ soaked hearing me fall apart like this.”

He grabs the base tight. Holds. Teases himself on the edge. Then snaps—grunting, cursing, gasping your name as cum spills down his cock, over his fist, so much it stains the chair and his shirt.

He doesn’t stop.

Not until his legs shake. Not until he’s wrung dry, dizzy, and smirking like he’s proud of the filth he made.

Lee Know

It’s always methodical. Controlled. Beautiful in the filthiest way.

Minho’s sprawled across fresh sheets, phone resting on his stomach, camera flipped to gallery. He’s not watching porn. He’s watching a video he took—of you, on your knees, tongue dragging up his cock while your eyes stay locked on his. His free hand is already wrapped around himself, slow and steady.

Every stroke matches the way you touched him that night. Down to the rhythm. The tension. The pause before his tip nudged your throat.

“Fucking slut,” he murmurs, a smirk forming as he watches himself grab your hair on-screen. His hand speeds up, wrist twisting, knuckles flushed.

He doesn’t groan. He hisses. Curses under his breath. And just before he finishes, he opens the camera again—records the way his cum shoots over his own hand.

Later, he’ll send it to you. Captioned: This made me think of you. Want a live version next?

Changbin

Absolutely feral. Growly. Always on edge. Like jerking off is a battle he never wins.

He’s in the shower. Steam thick, water scalding. One hand braced against the tile while the other fists his cock like it owes him something. He’s been edging himself since the second he stepped under the spray, breathing ragged, moaning your name like he’s already buried inside you.

“Fuck, I need you—” he grits out, chest heaving.

He can’t slow down. He won’t. His hips grind against his palm, jaw clenched as images flash through his head—your voice when you’re bratty, your thighs wrapped around his waist, the mess you made on his tongue last night.

When he cums, it’s with a sharp grunt and a fist pounding the wall. His legs shake. His cock throbs. And he doesn’t even stop—he keeps going, overstimulating himself until it borders on pain.

It’s never just once with him.

Hyunjin

Erotic. Slow. Like he’s making love to his own damn hand.

He’s naked in bed, candles flickering, silk sheets rustling under him. His phone is propped up on the pillow beside him—FaceTime paused on a screenshot of you in lingerie, mouth open and fingers between your thighs. He bites his lip, lets out the softest moan, and trails his hand down his abs like he’s teasing someone else.

His touch is featherlight at first—just ghosting over his shaft, stroking up and down in lazy, sensual arcs.

“Wish it was your hand,” he murmurs, letting his head fall back.

He talks to himself. Moans softly. Tells you how good you’d feel, how deep he’d go, how bad he wants to hear you cry for him. His back arches when he gets close. Fingers squeeze tighter, wrist moving faster—until he gasps your name like a secret and finishes all over his stomach.

Then he lies there, smiling faintly, hand still twitching on his thigh.

[onlyquinns]

that photo of kess, his veiny hands... the tattoo... i fear I'm going feral. can i possibly request one where kess goes absolutely crazy when reader surprises him with a small tattoo of his name and/or number where only he can see it.... so.... smutty pls if youre up for it. And maybe a little extra, when he turns up to practice the guys tease him cause his back is totally scratched up from the night before. thanks darling!!!

okay need to be sedated now, that photo has me going mad.

he sees it by accident. you’d honestly forgot you had it, barely able to see it yourself. you’d gotten his initials number tattooed on your hip—just above the bone—weeks ago, a little surprise you wanted to show him for finishing his first season with a completely new nhl team. obviously, you’d forgotten to show him.

michael’s watching you in your little bikini, wiggling to get comfy in the sun lounger, and that’s when he sees it. at first, it just looks like a smudge of black in your skin—but after squinting past the sunlight, he makes out a little mk7 in a dainty font. he immediately abandons his spot by the sliding glass door, his beer can forgotten by the grill as he walks over.

before you can even take your sunglasses off, michael settles over you, bracketing thick thighs over your hips. “when did you get it?” he asks, watching with blown pupils as you scrunch your brows like you don’t know what he’s talking about.

and you don’t.

“get what?” you ask, setting your book down on the hot concrete under you. you pull your shades off and set them on top of your book, michael’s large body blocking the sun from even touching you.

michael rolls his eyes, playing mean and it makes your cheeks warm even more in the summer heat. his hand cups your hip, right over your tattoo, and it clicks. he pinches and prods the skin there, and you whine.

“when did you get this?” he asks, lightly pinching the little tattoo to emphasize its existence. you look up at him and get lost in his face, his eyes dark and half lidded. “c’mon, baby, answer the question,” he growls, pressing his hips down into you so you can feel the hand outline of him through your bikini. hi hand trails over the waistline, pulling it back and snapping it against your skin.

you swallow, mind suddenly hazy and pupils blown just as big as michael’s. “a few days ago,” you murmur, “do you… do you like it?”

michael laughs, the sound so deep and throaty that it has you involuntarily squeezing your thighs together, slick pooling uncomfortably in between your legs. “you’ve no idea,” he whispers.

you’re unable to respond, words stolen from your mouth as you feel michael’s long fingers pull your bottoms to the side. he eyes you hungrily as his fingers make contact with your clit, drawing a loud squeak from you.

“why didn’t you tell me you got it?” he asks, fingers dipping lower between your legs and collecting your wetness on his fingers. he looks at you like he’s disappointed.

“i forgot,” you mumble. “you got so caught up with other hockey stuff—like… like the usa hockey thing.” you chew on your bottom lip and michael chuckles, as if to say that isn’t a good excuse. “i promise to tell you next time,” you say softly, peering up at him with big doe eyes. the look catches him off guard, sending impossibly more blood to his dick, but he shakes his head when he suddenly feels you grind down on his fingers.

michael pulls his hand away, pulling his large hand from your core to rest on your inner thigh, thumb pulling your pussy open for him to look at. “next time, huh?” he says, eyes only on your cunt and how it drools for him.

you nod, hair rubbing against the sun lounger’s rough cushioning. “y’know…” you start with uncertainty. “when we get married… i think it’d be cute to get your initial on my hand.”

michael groans at your words, “you’re killing me here,” he says lowly. he thumbs at your clit, drawing tight circles around it as he shimmies his swim trunks down.

michael pumps his hand over his dick, eyes flickering up to look at your face, a dark chuckle leaving his lips at the sight of you staring at his cock.

“my girl just like it when people know she’s mine?” he asks, drawing the thick head of his dick through your slick folds.

you nod, “mhm, only yours, mikey,” you say, watching where his dick slides through your folds.

michael grins, smug and cocky, and lines himself up with your entrance. his thumb doesn’t stray from rubbing circles against your clit as he sinks in, your body sucking him in. he couldn’t care any fucking less about being caught; in fact, he wouldn’t mind at all—just another little thing to add to the tattoo of his initials and number that prove you’re his. only his.

you moan as michael thrusts into you, taking his hand away from your clit and gripping your hips. he tilts your hips upward, angling your body just right so that he slams into that spongy spot inside of you over and over. you cry out and wrap your arms around him, freshly manicured nails digging into his back. michael moans, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of your freshly done acrylics dragging down his back. he knows you’re going to leave a mark, judging by the sharp sting your fingers leave in their wake, but the idea excites him beyond belief.

“fuck,” he groans, hips stuttering for a second as your ankles lock behind his back. “gonna make sure everyone knows i’m yours, yeah? leaving marks all over my back. fuck.”

you barely register his words, too dumb on the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you. your body trembles in michael’s hold, your climax building to a peak. michael moans as your cunt flutters around him, squeezing and sucking him in as he tries to keep his rhythm.

“‘m gonna cum!” you cry, legs tight around his waist and hands gripping into his shoulders.

the sight of you him—all messy with sex hair and flushed cheeks—has michael drooling. “okay, okay—“ he presses one large palm over your lower stomach, adding more pressure to the push and pull of his dick inside you. you whine loudly with tears forming at the corner of your eyes, body trembling as you hold back on your release until michael gives you the go ahead.

“m-michael!” you whimper, eyes bleary and bottom lip pulled tight between your teeth. the sun lounger feels wet underneath you. “please—please lemme cum! wanna cum!”

michael grins down at you and nods, “okay, baby, cum for me,” he says, voice smug. “c’mon, pretty girl, make a mess on my dick—know you want to.”

you moan and finally allow yourself your climax, the tightly coiled cord in your lower stomach snapping and sending you spiraling. your body trembles as you pant, quick puffs of air leaving your glossed lips. michael smirks, fucking you through your orgasm and him to completion. he holds your hips tight, pressing deep into you and shooting hot ropes of cum into your aching cunt. you whine at the sensation, pulling michael so he smothers you with his body, and pressing your nose into his neck.

michael smooths his hands up from your hips and holds you close to him, feeling the quick rise and fall of your chest. you murmur incoherently into his sweat-damp skin and michael grins to himself.

“don’t think you’re off the hook now,” he whispers into your hair. “i’m not done with you yet, and that tattoo—“ he gives a quick, sharp slap to your hip, “—makes you mine.”

and later that day, when michael finds himself back at the delta center, his teammates whistle and whoop at the sight of his back—all marked up with thin, red lines and a new piece of saniderm on his hip, your initial inked into his smooth skin right where his are on you.

[andy-15-07]

Ain’t Got Nothin’ Left Part 2

PAIRING: Tommy Miller x reader

Word Count:793| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

The Last Of Us Masterlist | Just One More

He was still grinning when you pushed him onto his back.

“What’s this?” Tommy asked, voice scratchy, brow lifting as you crawled over him. “You can barely walk.”

You settled between his legs with a slow, lazy smirk. “Don’t need to walk. Just need my mouth.”

He chuckled, all southern charm and smugness. “You really gonna suck me off after I just made you squirt all over my face?”

You leaned down, pressing a wet kiss just above the waistband of his jeans. “I’m gonna drain you, Miller. You deserve it.”

“Shit,” he muttered, hips jerking as your fingers undid his belt. “You tryna kill me, baby?”

“Just leveling the playing field.”

He was already hard. Of course he was,he’d been rock solid the entire time he’d been between your legs, and now it was like his cock was angry about being ignored.

You pulled him free and exhaled a soft little moan at the sight. Thick, flushed, already leaking.

“Jesus,” you whispered, licking your lips. “You taste good everywhere.”

He groaned when you licked the head, slow and deliberate, spreading the precum over your tongue.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, head falling back. “That mouth’s gonna ruin me.”

You sucked him in inch by inch, slow at first. Letting him feel it. Your tongue swirled around the head, your hand stroking what you couldn’t fit yet. His thighs tensed under your palms.

“You look so fuckin’ good down there,” he gritted out. “Like you were made for this.”

You moaned around him, humming low, and his hips bucked.

“God damn,”

You started moving faster, twisting your wrist, eyes locked on his face. He was panting already, jaw clenched, chest rising like he was struggling to breathe.

“Shit, baby, slow down,” he gasped. “You keep that up, I’m gonna,”

You pulled off with a pop, wiping spit off your chin. “That’s the point.”

He looked down at you, eyes heavy-lidded and glassy. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ menace.”

You grinned, then dove back in.

This time you didn’t hold back,fast, sloppy, loud. Your spit dripped down your fist, his cock slick and throbbing. You bobbed your head harder, taking him deep, letting your throat tighten around him.

Tommy shouted, hips jerking.

“F-fuck, baby,I’m close, I’m gonna,”

You sucked harder. Deeper. His hand flew to your hair, not pulling,just holding, trembling.

And then he came, groaning loud, cock twitching between your lips as you swallowed him down, every drop. You didn’t stop. You kept going.

Tommy’s body shook.

“Jesus Christ,baby,baby,”

You licked and sucked, slower but insistent, watching him writhe.

“I,fuck,I just came,” he gasped, voice cracking. “You tryna get another one outta me? There’s nothing left.”

You smiled, kissing the base of his cock, letting your tongue drag up the underside. “Then I guess we’ll find out.”

“God damn,” he groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “You’re a fuckin’ demon.”

You sucked him again, harder. He was oversensitive, hips twitching uncontrollably, a string of curses falling from his lips.

“Shit,fuck, baby,fuckin’ mouth is too good,”

You didn’t let up. You wanted him undone. Weak. Used. You wanted every drop.

And then,you felt it. The twitch. The telltale throb.

His hand slammed against the mattress.

“Fuck,fuck, I’m,”

He came again. Not as much, but it was still hot on your tongue, and you swallowed it greedily, sucking through it, watching his body spasm.

Tommy looked absolutely wrecked.

His chest heaved. His cock twitched in your hand, softening slowly. His abs were trembling.

“Baby,” he gasped, voice hoarse. “You’re gonna suck the soul outta me.”

You kissed the head of his cock one more time, then nuzzled your cheek against his thigh. “You okay?”

“I think I’m dead.”

You laughed, crawling up his body, letting your slick mouth leave a trail of kisses across his chest. “I wanted to see if I could make you go stupid.”

“Well, congratulations,” he muttered, dazed. “You fuckin’ succeeded.”

You laid your head on his chest, and he pulled you close, still catching his breath.

After a minute, you glanced down. “Think you’ve got one more in you?”

He gave you a look, utterly betrayed. “Woman. There’s dust comin’ outta me at this point.”

You laughed so hard you nearly fell off the bed.

Tommy wrapped both arms around you and dragged you down into his chest. “You keep doin’ shit like that,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead, “and I’m gonna have to marry you or somethin’.”

You grinned. “So next round’s in the honeymoon suite?”

He huffed a breathless laugh. “Next round’s when I wake up from the coma you just sucked me into.”

You kissed his jaw and felt him melt under you.

No thoughts. No tension. Just you and him, wrecked and tangled in sweat and love.

[thatlotuscookie]

Hello! Hope you have a good day 😄 Could I request some nsfw headcanons or maybe even a scenario 🤭 for Woo Jinchul? I was thinking something soft, he seems like the type to take really good care of his S/O, very attentive. I think I'd melt :((

✧･ﾟ: a/n: thanks for your request i had sm fun writing this, sorry for the late posting guys!! working on a project for my engineering club ^_^ hope you enjoy and feel free to send more reqs if ever you want. wrote a scenario after the headcanons so if you wanna skip to that, just scroll :<

Woo Jin-Chul x !FemReader (soft love making hcs)

King of Praise Kink.

Jinchul worships your reactions. He gets off on watching you fall apart for him. Whether you’re whimpering under his tongue or moaning into the sheets while he’s deep inside, he’s got that low, reverent voice.

Loves slow, intense eye contact

He needs to look into your eyes when he’s inside you. That dead-serious, I’m-making-love-to-your-soul type stare that melts your spine. If you try to look away? He gently grabs your chin and brings your gaze back.

His fingers are god-tier

They’re thick, dexterous, and holy fucking hell does he know how to use them. Two fingers can leave you shaking if he curls them just right — and trust me, he always curls them just right. While kissing your neck. He might not even need his dick to ruin your life. But oh, when he does use it...

Morning sex is slow, lazy, and absolutely filthy

He wakes up half-hard, your body draped over him, and instead of rushing out of bed like some uptight workaholic, he kisses your shoulder, mumbles “stay with me a little longer,” and starts grinding into you under the sheets. It’s sleepy, messy, and intimate as fuck. His voice is extra deep in the morning and he stays inside you long after you both finish. Just… exists in that afterglow with his hand on your waist and his forehead against yours.

Slow grinding is his favorite

Sure, he can rail you. And when he finally snaps? Holy shit. Walls will rattle. But his favorite? The deep, slow grind with your legs wrapped around his waist, foreheads touching, and the sound of skin on skin filling the room like music. He holds your hand while fucking you. Kisses your knuckles, your jaw, your nose. Yeah, and now you’re crying during sex again. Congrats.

Mutual pleasure is non-negotiable.

You finish first. Always. If he has to edge himself raw while you come three times in a row? So be it. That man lives to see you satisfied. He gets off on it. Seeing you cum is his kink. He'll eat you out until your thighs shake and you're trying to push his head away, and he just grabs your hips tighter and growls about how you can give him one more. And you know it’s never just one more.

Dirty talk is gentle, but wrecking.

He’s not loud. He doesn’t bark orders. What he does is whisper filth like a lullaby in that smooth, gravel-soft voice that turns your brain into soup. It’s not just dirty. It’s emotionally compromising. He’ll fuck you stupid and make you feel like the love of his goddamn life all at once.

Touches you like he missed you, even if it’s only been an hour.

His hands linger everywhere. Thighs, hips, lower back. Constant touches, constant grounding. You’re not just getting dicked down — you’re getting held. Possessed, but not owned. And if you say “please” in the right tone? He’ll melt for you.

He absolutely gets off on soft aftercare

Post-sex Woo Jinchul is a menace. He’ll hold you like he’s scared to let go, wrap you in his shirt, and stroke your hair while telling you how good you were, how much he loves you, how proud he is. And then he’ll make you water, run you a bath, and carry you there himself. No shame. He wants you to feel taken care of in every way. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Carnally.

You barely get the door shut before the exhaustion hits you like a freight train. The day’s been shit. No, worse than shit — a full-on mental gangbang of stress, overwork, and emotional whiplash. You feel hollow. Numb. Like you could collapse right here and let the floor swallow you whole.

But you don’t. Because Woo Jinchul is home.

The scent of him — that clean, cedarwood warmth — hits you before you even see him. He steps around the corner, already unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt, tie hanging loose, and the second he lays eyes on you, everything in him sharpens. Not in alarm — in focus.

He doesn’t say “what’s wrong?” or “are you okay?” because he knows. He sees it in the slump of your shoulders, in the way your eyes won’t meet his.

“Come here.”

Two words. That’s all. And you go.

He wraps you in those broad, strong arms, your face pressed to his chest where you can hear the steady beat of his heart. He’s solid, warm, grounding — like if you let go, you might float the fuck away, and he knows it. One hand cradles the back of your head; the other smooths slow circles over your back.

“You don’t have to carry any of it right now,” he murmurs into your hair. “Let me carry you for a while.”

Fuck. That alone almost breaks you.

He leads you — slow, unhurried — to the bedroom. No sudden moves, no pressure. Just quiet care. He undresses you carefully, like you’re fragile, but not weak. Like you deserve to be cherished. Shirt first, then pants. His fingers trail your skin reverently, brushing every newly revealed patch like he’s memorizing it.

“You’ve been through enough today,” he says, voice low, rough with emotion. “Let me take care of you properly.”

He doesn’t get naked yet. No rush. This isn’t about him right now. He guides you to lie back on the bed and slips in beside you, fully clothed. His hand rests over your heart, warm and steady. His lips brush your temple.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You whisper his name, shaky and needy, and he finally moves — kissing down your neck, over your collarbone, his breath soft and warm.

“You’re so good for me,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your skin. “You give so much. Let me give it all back.”

And then he goes down. Slow. Deliberate. His tongue parts you like a prayer, and he fucking devours you with that lethal focus of his. No rushing. He builds you up like he’s composing a symphony with his mouth — steady rhythm, perfectly placed strokes, moaning against you when your thighs twitch.

“That’s it… fuck, baby, you taste so sweet…”

You’re shaking before he’s even started using his fingers. He slips one inside, slow, curling it just right while he keeps licking — coaxing you open with nothing but care and patience.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he groans, looking up at you from between your legs with pure fucking awe. “Taking my fingers so well. So damn perfect.”

And then, only after your body is already trembling from the edge, does he finally undress. Shirt off, muscles flexing as he peels it away. His eyes never leave yours.

“You sure?” he asks, even though your body’s fucking screaming yes. You nod, and he leans down to kiss you — deep, tongue slipping into your mouth like he owns it — and lines himself up.

When he pushes in, it’s slow. Agonizingly slow. He groans like he’s feeling heaven for the first time.

“Fuck… you’re so warm. So tight around me… You always take me so damn well.”

His forehead rests against yours, your fingers laced together beside your head as he starts to move. Not fast. Deep. Like he’s fucking you to anchor himself.

“You don’t have to do anything, baby,” he murmurs. “Just let me love you.”

His hand cradles your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek, and his other arm wraps around your waist, holding you like he needs to feel you everywhere. Every thrust is slow, dragging, calculated to make you feel every inch.

“That’s it… let go for me. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

He kisses you again — messy this time, open-mouthed and gasping, like he needs your breath to survive. You moan into his mouth, your nails raking down his back, and he shudders.

“God, baby, you’re everything. You hear me?” His voice is rough, strained with emotion. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

You’re damn near sobbing when you come, clinging to him like he’s the only solid thing in the world. He doesn’t stop — just rides you through it, holding you close, whispering praise in your ear.

“So beautiful… So good for me… You did so well, baby. So fucking well.”

He finishes with a broken groan, burying himself in deep and holding you tight. Not possessive. Not rough. Just there. His whole body wrapped around you like a promise.

And he doesn’t let go.

He cleans you up tenderly — not rushed, not clinical. Warm towel, gentle hands. Then he pulls you onto his chest, blankets wrapped tight, one hand stroking your hair.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he whispers. “Not when you’re with me.”

And you fall asleep in his arms, safe, wrecked, loved beyond words — while Woo Jinchul holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤSWEET GIRLㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Do They Eat That Kitty?

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ NOTE : Minors DNI. Damian is an adult. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

Bruce eats pussy like it’s a goddamn art form—he’s precise, calculated, and maddeningly patient. He starts slow, always. Those big hands spread you open, thumbs keeping you vulnerable as he just looks at you, like you’re a meal he’s been starving for. Then, his tongue starts, slow and flat, dragging up from your entrance to your clit in one smooth stroke that has your breath catching. He doesn’t rush, not at first—he builds you up so slowly that you’re practically begging him to stop teasing. When he gets serious? Oh, you’re fucked. Bruce focuses entirely on your clit, his tongue pressing firm and circling in ways that have your thighs trembling. He slides two fingers inside you, curving them just right to hit that spot, and he watches you. His dark eyes stay locked on your face, reading every reaction like he’s solving some complex puzzle. And god, he loves control. If you try to squirm or close your legs, he growls, low and dangerous, “Stay still, or I’ll stop.” Spoiler: he never actually stops, but the threat alone keeps you in place. When you cum, he doesn’t let up. His tongue keeps working you, dragging you through wave after wave until you’re crying out his name, completely wrecked.

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

Dick? He’s a pussy-eating legend. You know how some people enjoy it? Dick fucking loves it. He dives in like it’s his favorite thing in the world, his hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer, his face buried between your legs as he moans like a man possessed. He’s messy about it, too—his tongue is everywhere, licking and sucking on your clit like he’s trying to ruin you. But Dick knows exactly how to build you up. He’ll start with long, teasing licks, making you squirm and whimper, and then he focuses entirely on your clit. His tongue moves in quick, flicking motions, switching it up with soft sucks that send shocks through your entire body. And he’s loud. He moans into you, murmuring things like, “You taste so fucking good,” and “I could stay down here all night.” His fingers? Fucking perfect. He slips two inside you effortlessly, curling them up in time with his tongue until you’re sobbing from the intensity. And Dick doesn’t stop when you cum. Nope. He keeps going, even as you’re begging him for mercy, his grin widening against your skin because he knows he’s got you falling apart.

— JASON TODD ⋆

Jason eats pussy like he’s got something to prove. There’s nothing soft or sweet about it—it’s raw, filthy, and absolutely fucking primal. He doesn’t even bother teasing you. The second your legs are open, his face is buried between them, his tongue lapping at you like he’s starving. His grip on your thighs is bruising—he keeps you pinned in place no matter how much you try to squirm. His tongue is relentless, focusing on your clit with harsh flicks and sucks that have you seeing stars in seconds. Jason’s all about intensity—he groans against you, low and rough, sending vibrations through your body. And when he slides his fingers inside you, It’s game over. He pumps them hard and fast, curling them to hit that sweet spot over and over until you’re screaming his name. Jason loves watching you lose control. He’ll pull back just enough to smirk at you, his lips and chin soaked, and growl, “C’mon, baby. Let me hear you.” And when you finally cum? He doesn’t stop. He forces you to take every second of it, holding you down as he works you through the aftershocks, leaving you completely wrecked.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

Damian is precise. He approaches eating pussy like a challenge, determined to reduce you to nothing but gasps and moans. He starts slow, dragging his tongue through your folds with maddening patience, watching your every reaction. His hands hold your thighs apart, firm but not rough, keeping you exactly where he wants you. Once he finds what works, Damian locks in like a man on a mission. His tongue circles your clit in perfect, rhythmic motions, alternating with soft flicks that have your back arching off the bed. He doesn’t get messy—everything he does is intentional, calculated, and devastatingly effective. His fingers join the party soon enough, sliding inside you with ease, curling up to hit your G-spot with every stroke. Damian’s all about control. If you try to move, he tightens his grip, growling, “Stay still. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s also vocal in a way that’s almost mocking. “Look at you. Falling apart for me already.” And when you cum? Damian doesn’t stop. He keeps going, overstimulating you until you’re trembling, tears streaming down your face as you beg him to let you breathe. He’ll finally pull back, wiping his mouth with a smug smirk, because he knows no one else can make you feel like that.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : SAVE IN HIS ARMS : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hwang In-ho x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff and slight angst?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: Squid Game

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: In the chaos of the third game, you were trampled and left helpless—until In-ho found you. Carrying you to safety, he calmed your panic, proving you weren’t alone.

YOU’D THOUGHT THE FIRST GAME WAS BAD—Red Light, Green Light with its chilling, mechanical doll and the blood-curdling sound of gunshots that had followed anyone who dared to move at the wrong time. The sight of so many bodies dropping like flies was forever burned into your memory. But you had made it through, sticking close to In-ho and a few other players who seemed capable of keeping their cool under pressure.

The second game, Six Legs, had pushed you even closer to the edge. Six people tied together by the ankles, forced to move as one cohesive unit while completing a series of absurd mini-games. The first challenge involved a game of Ddakji, followed by Flying stone, Gong-gi, Spinning top and at last Jegi. Every challenge was absolutely nerve wracking. Every stumble risked pulling the entire group down.

“Stop panicking,” In-ho had said sharply when it was your turn to play Gong-gi. His tone was firm but not unkind, and his steady grip on your arm had kept you from collapsing altogether.

“I’m trying,” you’d whispered, your voice barely audible over the yelling of other groups.

“You’ll be fine,” he had replied, glancing at you with those piercing eyes. “Just focus on me.”

It was his calm presence that had carried you through. Somehow, your group had made it out alive, but not without leaving a part of your sanity behind.

Now, the third game was underway, and the tension was unbearable.

The platform beneath your feet spun relentlessly, the dizzying motion making it hard to stay upright. The eerie song blaring over the speakers didn’t help; its cheerful notes felt like a cruel joke, mocking your desperation.

You clung to the rail for balance, your eyes scanning the crowd for In-ho. He stood a few feet away, his tall, composed frame unshaken by the platform’s motion. Gi-hun, Jung-bea, and Dea-ho were close by, the four of them keeping together in a loose cluster. You tried to move toward them, but the spinning platform made every step feel like a gamble.

Finally, the music stopped.

The platform jolted to a halt, nearly sending you to your knees. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and shuffling feet.

“Two,” the woman’s voice announced over the speakers, detached and emotionless.

For a moment, there was silence as the words registered. Then chaos erupted. Players screamed, shoving and clawing at one another in their desperation to find a partner.

You stumbled forward, trying to push your way through the throng of bodies. “In-ho!” you called out, your voice trembling with panic.

Through the chaos, you caught a glimpse of him, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd. He was moving toward you, his path deliberate, but the surging mass of players made it nearly impossible to reach him.

“Time is running out. Please form your groups,” the woman’s voice droned on, unbothered by the chaos.

Someone slammed into you from behind, sending you sprawling to the ground. Your palms scraped against the rough surface of the platform, and a sharp pain shot through your ankle as someone stepped on it in their frantic rush.

You cried out, clutching your leg as tears blurred your vision. The crowd swirled around you, an unrelenting tide of fear and desperation.

Just as despair began to set in, a hand grabbed yours—strong and familiar.

“In-ho,” you gasped, relief flooding through you as he pulled you upright.

His face was etched with determination, his dark eyes scanning you quickly. “Can you stand?” he asked, his voice low but urgent.

“I—I don’t think so,” you stammered, clutching your throbbing ankle. “I can’t run.”

He didn’t hesitate. Without another word, he scooped you into his arms, holding you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. “Hold on,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you through the chaos. The timer on the wall ticked down mercilessly, but In-ho moved with precision, weaving through the panicked players with ease.

“In-ho, what about the others?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“They’ll manage,” he replied curtly. His focus was entirely on you, his grip on you steady despite the chaos around him. “Right now, I’m getting you to safety.”

The sound of footsteps and shouting grew louder as players scrambled to find rooms, but In-ho didn’t falter. He pushed through the crowd, heading for an empty room just as the timer reached zero.

The door slammed shut behind you, sealing you off from the madness outside. The sound of gunshots echoed through the arena, each one sending a fresh wave of terror through you.

In-ho set you down gently on the floor, his hands lingering on your arms as he crouched in front of you. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You shook your head, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I almost died,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“But you didn’t,” he said firmly. His hands cupped your face, his touch grounding you. “You’re safe now.”

The weight of his words brought a fresh wave of tears, and you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking as you sobbed.

“I can’t do this,” you choked out. “I can’t—”

“Hey,” In-ho interrupted, his voice calm but commanding. He gently pulled your hands away from your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Look at me. Breathe.”

“I—I can’t,” you stammered, your chest heaving.

“Yes, you can,” he said firmly. He took one of your hands and pressed it against his chest. “Feel that? Match your breathing to mine.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. Slowly, your breaths began to sync with his, the tightness in your chest easing bit by bit.

“There you go,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheek. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

You nodded weakly, your tears slowing as his presence calmed you. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

In-ho’s expression softened, and for a moment, the hardness in his eyes gave way to something warmer. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said quietly. “I told you—I won’t let anything happen to you.”

For the first time since the games began, you felt a glimmer of hope. In his arms, amidst the terror of the arena, you felt something you hadn’t dared to feel in days: safe.

(A/N) First Squid game fanfic! While watching season 2 i totally fell in love with In-ho (let’s forget the fact that he’s the frontman) so of course i needed to write a short oneshot of him. Feel free to drop requests in my inbox!

[holeforzenin]

TOJI N MEGUMI’S SWEET GIRLFRIEND!!!

Tw - Cheating, breeding kink, forbidden relationship. Megumi is 20 n reader is a bit older, Brief Toji x reader. Not proofread

★彡

Imagine Megumi walking around the house shirtless, exposing every inch of his skin from his hips up, His smooth skin glistening under the warn-toned light as he walked into the kitchen for a snack but then Toji spots the fresh series of red, angry lines scattered across his upper back. He’s not dumb, he’s a grown man in his early 40s, he’s basically an expert at that shit considering the fact that he has them too. He knows exactly what it is and what caused it.

He starts teasing Megumi about it, about how his boring, grumpy ass is actually getting some pussy—not knowing that the pussy he’s getting is his sweet little girlfriend’s while he’s away on missions, absolutely oblivious to what happens between his son and girlfriend while he’s not there. The harsh markings from your sharp manicured nails mauling his son’s toned back as he fucked your slutty brains out and digs his cock deep into your insides while giving you one of the best dicking of your life, right on top of you and Toji’s bed.

–––

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend of his that wakes up at 5am sharp to make breakfast and see him off to his 3-day mission just to have his son’s throbbing hard dick nestled deep into your greedy cunt—stuffing you full to the brim while his tip nudges against the deepest part of your pussy just a few hours later.

Megumi was three years younger than you, never had a girlfriend before and you felt bad for the poor boy and was soo tired and annoyed of having to keep buying new panties since the old ones were used to wrap around his preverted cock to jerk off, staining it with his seed instead of doing you and his father’s laundry so you had to find a way to deal with it…

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend he calls every evening while he's away to make sure you’re alright and if you’ve eaten dinner, not knowing that his son is eating dinner right now—behind you, on this knees as his rough hands spreads your soft cheeks apart, nose pressed deep into your creamy folds while he sucks on your twitching little clit with fervor and intensity, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

Your juices drips down his chin disgustingly as he devours you like a homeless man eating his favorite meal for the first time in years, groaning vibrantly against your twitching core as he tastes your sweet pussy—desperately lapping up every bit of pussy juice he can suck out of you, making you audibly stutter but Toji doesn’t question it, maybe you’re just tired and miss him too much or something. You bit your lips, moving a hand down to push Megumi’s eager face further into your horny pussy as you teasingly wiggled your cheeks in his face. Your eyes roll back when you felt Megumi’s sly tongue dragging flat against your asshole, licking a long stripe at the fluttery hole before attempting to pry it open with the tip of his tongue, “Mmm, don’t worry baby I’m fine—just have a sore throat that’s all” you reassumed your older boyfriend on the other end, reasoning why you’re making odd noises.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend he calls Megumi for—to check up and make sure you’re safe and okay. After all, while Toji is away, Megumi is the man of the house, not knowing that you’re on your knees as they speak, both hands digging into his muscular legs for stability as he fucks his thick cock deep into your skull, his leaking tip oozing with pre-cum, dripping at the back of your throat as you look up at him with pleading eyes as your mascara mixed with tears drips down your pretty face while he just smiles down at you darkly—reassuring Toji that his girlfriend is well taken care of.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend who he promises to breed, babbling about how much he wants to give Megumi a sibling and watch your belly swell with his kid as he’s pounding you deep and hard in full Nelson, his huge tip nudging against your bruised cervix, brutally splitting apart your cunt while whispering into your ear. “Hah—fuckkk doll, your tight pussy is swallowing my dick so good, fuckk imagine if I fill you up and breed this pretty little pussy with my seed, How does that sound darling? Wanna give lonely Megumi a sibling to take care of?” He questions your fucked out self as he licks away the trail of salty tears lingering on your face. Not knowing that Megumi is just like him. Their minds are sooo alike. “Shitshitshit—such a good little horny slut, this pussy’s taking my cock sooo well baby. Whaddya say we make old man Toji a grandpa? Fuck he wouldn’t even have a clue it’s not his” he laughs into your ears as he licks your earlobe while drilling his swollen cock into your soppy cunt from behind, against the kitchen counter just 20 minutes before toji gets home.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend who gets her sweet cunt and tight asshole stuffed full with his son’s seed almost every other day. Megumi would brutally fucked your tight pussy against the bathroom sink while he’s taking a nap, your panties bearly hanging around the sides of your ankles as Megumi manhandles your body back onto his cock—forcing you to meet his thrust halfway as he pounds it into you, he's so girthy and big, definitely not as big as Toji’s but it’s definitely a lot more stiff and eager, his tip bullyingly grazes against your g-spot as you cried out, making him grunt before quickly slapping a hand over your mouth to shut you up. “Can’t a nasty whore shut the fuck up? Or do you want him to wake up and see you creaming on his son’s cock? Is that what you want? Such a cock-hungry little slut.”

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the same sweet girlfriend that he buys sexy lingerie for, to wear and model them for him and he finishes off the show by ripping them to shreds off of you and fucking you into a brainless whore—but like father, like son, Megumi does the exact same when he’s not there. It’s like they both think alike when it comes to certain things—that being sex. No wonder sometimes some of them tend to go “missing” leading him to buy you even more for his son Megumi to fuck you in. He loves seeing you all dolled up with your matching pink panties and bra. It makes both of them absolutely feral.

જ⁀➴ The “pussy” he’s getting is from the adoring girlfriend who he fucks absolutely stupid and good, to the point where your toes curled as your eyes roll back to your skull—a moaning mess as he forces out orgasms after orgasms out to you till the whole mattress is drenched and soaked with cum. The only (downside?) would be Megumi hearing everything from the next room, brows furred together has he angrily fist fuck his pulsating cock, imagining he was the one drilling deep into you instead. The next day he’d corner you while your sitting on the couch and manhandle your body so you’ll be face down and ass up—stuffing three thick, long fingers into your tight asshole, stretching it apart while he snakes his tongue deep into your hungry pussy—exploring your insides. Your asshole taking in his fingers with pure pleasure as you buckle your hips back onto his face, like a whore—eagered for more.

[itelya]

It's your first day in Malaysia for your honeymoon with Nanami. He's prepared everything to make you feel comfortable. He would do anything for you, his sweet and pretty little wife.

He takes you to the beach with a folding chair on your back, a bag with your belongings and food in one hand, and a large watermelon in the other.

Your feet walk on the warm sand of the beach, and the embers of the wind caress your face and hair. Your pretty dress accentuates your curves and exposes your skin to the sun.

Nanami looks at you with love and admiration. You are so beautiful. He is lucky to have you as his wife for the rest of his life. His cheeks turn slightly red as he looks at you as if it were the first time.

"I can see why you chose Malaysia for our honeymoon." Your voice is sweet as honey, and your smile makes him melt. You are magnificent.

You look at him and say, "Dear, I told you to let me hold some..." To be honest, you were a little embarrassed to be carrying anything but your little bag, even though you knew Nanami didn't want you to carry anything.

"Absolutely not." He puts the watermelon in his other arm, takes your soft hand in his firm one, and pulls you to a quiet spot. "Come on, darling."

Once you're there and settled in, you sit with Nanami on your large beach towel. You rummage lightly in your bag and pull out an orange. "Do you want an orange?"

"Yes, please." Nanami comes up behind you, places an arm around your chest, and kisses your shampoo-scented hair. Your hand instinctively places itself on his arm, and you smile.

"Peel it for me." A low groan escapes his throat, and he takes the orange and sets it in a corner. You look at him skeptically. Is he excited?

His other hand slides slowly between your legs. His fingers caress your panties, slightly damp with anticipation. You feel your pussy throb at his mere touch, as if your body is responding without you even thinking about it.

"Fuck, darling, I want to make you cum on this beach for our first day of honeymoon. Do you allow me, baby?" His voice is deep and hoarse with desire for you.

"Of course I allow you, idiot," you breathe with a teasing smile. Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, as if the pleasure overwhelming you is already preventing you from speaking normally.

His fingers slowly tickle your clitoris through the fabric, and his free hand slips under your light dress to cup your breast.

You gasp softly, your body tensing under his caresses. He gently pinches your nipple between his fingers, playing with it while his lips rest on your neck, sucking on your skin and kissing it. Then, he pushes your panties to the side.

The fresh afternoon air brushes against your lower lip, sending a shiver up the back of your neck. He looks at you, his eyes burning, as if he wants to etch every expression on your face into his memory.

"You're so beautiful like this..." he murmurs, before sliding a finger inside you, slowly, deeply. You moan softly, unable to hold back the sound, but it could easily be heard even if you were in a very private corner.

He adds a second finger, curving it slightly to find that precise spot that's driving you crazy, and his movements become deeper.

Your back arches, your breathing quickens. You grip the back of his neck, turn your head, and bury your face against his shoulder to stifle the moans rising within you. He continues to stimulate your clitoris with his thumb, at the same time as he penetrates you with his fingers.

It's too good, too good.

Nanami, he doesn't take his eyes off you. He watches your every tremor, your every sigh, he breathes in your pleasure as if it were his own drug. Your pleasure depends on yours.

His fingers move faster now, harder, until you explode with a muffled cry against his neck, your body shaking with spasms, your hand clenched in his hair.

He holds you against him, supports you, kisses your forehead as you catch your breath. You're still panting, your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

"There, Mrs. Nanami... first orgasm as my wife, validated." He laughs softly, proud of himself, and you burst into a breathless laugh, still trembling but happy.

You pull away and turn slightly to look at him, your cheeks flushed, your eyes shining with excitement.

"Your turn, my husband..." you look at him and smile. Your fingers are already sliding down his fly. You're definitely planning on making him cum too.

a/n: It's been a while since I've posted, bruh... so here goes ^^ I'm posting a one-shot this week - about Nanami - so if you want to be tagged, lmk 💗 ⟢﹒ masterlist

Inspiration: https://x.com/yunonoaii/status/1901914370915119341?s=46&t=X-HaPE_HhJcar9ofo0IwiQ

[ddejavvu]

Mean!Logan who absolutely will NOT kiss you on the mouth while he’s fucking you. You’re crying and begging and so so desperate for it but he just will not give in, loves to watch you cry and cry even while your whole body shakes and your eyes roll back from how deep he is in you

Logan won't kiss you

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: mean!logan, teasing, dacryphilia, don't like don't read.

a/n: anon i hope you know this made me moan. shit the first line almost had me creaming my jeans. thank you <33333333333

It's a tease, being given so much and yet nothing at all. Logan's strong hips are steadily thrusting against your own, driving his cock in and out of your cunt that begs for nothing more, but you're being held tantalizingly close to the precipice of your orgasm solely from the denial of a kiss.

Logan's mouth is heaven.

Whether against your own or against another part of you, your sensitive nipples or your throbbing pussy, his mouth has always brought you to completion. You yearn for it now, with sharp aches and pleas from your drooling cunt as he fucks into you, but he refuses to give you what you want- what you need.

"What's'a matter?" He drawls, and by the condescension in his voice, by the sharp, rigid smirk on the mouth of his that you want so bad, you know he knows, "What gives, you don't like me or somethin'?"

"Logan," You whine for mercy, tears beading in your eyes as you grip his biceps and attempt to hoist yourself up to kiss him. He deflects skillfully, pushing you back down to the mattress.

"No, no, don't be greedy. My dick isn't enough? Looks like it is." He muses, eyeing the way your cunt slobbers on his length, coating it generously in your thick, slick arousal.

"Look at you, you're ruined," Logan scoffs, panting through the continuous motions of his hips, "And you still want more."

"I want a kiss," You feel pitiful whining like that, and he laughs like you are.

"Oh, princess wants a kiss, is that it? All this cock and what you really want is my mouth?"

"Yes," You gasp, tears flooding down your cheeks at the contempt in his eyes, even if its staged, "Please Logan, please, I jus- I just want one kiss, please." You try yet again to raise your head, but he won't take the bait- he sneers like you're nothing but an annoyance.

"No." He decides simply, hips only snapping faster and faster, harder and harder into your cunt, "You have enough. Use it."

You do. You clench around his cock, thighs squeezed together so that your entrance is as tight as possible. You feel every inch of his impressive length as it pounds in and out of your pussy, you feel pleasure in every fiber of your being, and yet- it's the visual of Logan's tongue flicking out over his lips after a hefty exhale that finally sends your brain and body into overdrive.

His lips, thin and a shade pinker than his skin, look so enticing, and the way that his tongue laves over them leaving translucent saliva behind sends sparks between your legs like nothing you've ever felt without Logan's mouth. You wish it was yours, you wish his tongue was dipping into your mouth the way it does so often, licking every inch of your skin, tasting every part of you there ever has been.

You cum hard and you cum almost painfully, writhing on the bed covered in tears and sweat. There's surely a pool of slick beneath your ass on the bed from where your cunt has drooled onto the sheets but Logan will clean it up later- if you're lucky, from you with the mouth you're still fantasizing about.

"There, that wasn't hard," Logan hums, crooning tenderly like he's taking care of you as he finally dips down to press a firm kiss against the slack ring of your mouth. It's late, but better than never. You exhale shakily as he kisses you, a balm to soothe the hurt feelings of his denial, and he chuckles as you twitch beneath him. He leaves his cock buried in your warm, twitching cunt- he hasn't finished himself, but he'll feed his cock down your throat later- anytime you cum and he doesn't you offer to help him out. Watching the way that your eyes blink hazily at him post-kiss is certainly helping him along, and he won't take long up against the warm wet seal of your mouth.

"Poor thing is sensitive." He nudges his nose against your own, muscles bulging as he keeps himself hovering over you, "Can't handle being used, hm? Gotta be loved?"

"I love you," You whisper pitifully, chasing his mouth with a desperate, sticky kiss of your own, "Logan, I- I love you, mm-"

"Alright, alright." He mumbles through your sloppy attempts at kissing him, muffled by your lips, "Alright, crybaby, 'love you too."

[traumaone]

Keys

pairing: Michael Robinavitch x Senior Resident!Reader

wordcount: 1.2k

warnings: age gap (late 20s and late 40s), sorta established relationship

synopsis: Robby misses you, but lucky for him, you just so happened to leave your keys on his desk after your shift last night (or, you come by to pick up your keys and Robby feels you up in the ambulance bay)

masterlist

!! not proofread so apologies for any mistakes !!

Are my keys on your desk? 

It’s the first Robby actually hears from you all day.

You responded with nothing more than a thumbs up to his message this morning, sending a clear message that you did not plan to be very reachable today.

Robby knows exactly where your keys are. They’d been the first thing he’d noticed this morning, your clunky collection of keychains somehow strewn across his keyboard. He snaps a photo of them before texting you back.

*image attached* These keys?

Your response is immediate.

Yes!!! Are we horrendously crowded today or can I come grab them from you??

Robby ignores the way his chest clenches at the thought of seeing you, even if it’s just so you can get your keys.

Never too crowded for you 

You thumbs down his message.

Kiss ass See you soon :p

Robby smiles at his phone, the kind of smile only you seem to be able to pull from him, the kind that makes his cheeks ache. He tucks your keys into his pocket for safe measure, not just to keep them safe but to guarantee you can’t slip in and grab them when he’s not there to see you.

“What’s got you so smiley?”

Dana leans over the edge of his desk, not so subtly trying to peer at the screen of his phone. Robby is quick to lock his screen, dropping his phone back into the pocket of his cargos.

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

Not subtle at all.

“Lemme guess…” Dana gives him a knowing smile, tapping her finger on her chin in mock concentration. “Does it have something to do with a certain senior resident who is absent from our ED today?”

Bingo, but Robby keeps his features schooled, the epitome of professionalism. “Don’t you have work to be doing, or something?”

“Ooh, so touchy.” Dana laughs. “But since you asked, Myrna was looking for you.”

Robby groans, a little dramatic, but he could’ve gone at least another hour without hearing the words fruit cake. He clings to the knowledge that you’ll be walking through the doors of the ED within the next hour.

He’s in the middle of charting when Lupe buzzes you in, glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he squints at the screen.

“You’re gonna get a headache if you keep doing that, old man.” Despite the tease, there's nothing but fondness in your tone.

Robby looks up, stunned by the sight of you looking so not doctor-like, so domestic.

Freshly washed hair pulled back, rogue strands falling out to frame your gorgeous face in a way that drives him absolutely crazy. A baggy hoodie hangs from your shoulders, an embroidered patch with the name of your school that’s fraying around the edges plastered on your chest. And Jesus Christ your shorts. He’d never seen you in them for obvious reasons, cut well above the mid-line of your thigh, showcasing a pair of legs so fantastic Robby’s sure he’ll be dreaming about them for weeks.

“Y’know the glasses are there to help you see, right?” You lean against the edge of the counter, propping your chin up on your elbow as you gaze at him with a smile that can only be described as smitten. “Not just to sit there and make you look pretty while you frown over them.”

“You’re really going to poke fun at the guy who’s holding on to your keys right now?” Robby asks, leaning forward so the two of you are only inches apart. “I might just hold onto them, make you sit around and wait till my shift’s over to get them back.”

You catch onto his ploy instantly. “You like me so much you can’t even spend one shift without me? I’m flattered, Robby.”

“You should be.” Abbott cuts in, tapping into the computer next to you to check a chart. “He mopes around like a kicked puppy when you’re not here.”

“A kicked puppy, huh?” You ask, turning to look at Robby with a glint in your eye that’s entirely too smug.

Robby shakes his head. “If you guys ever wondered why you’re not scheduled on the same shifts anymore, this is why.”

Abbott lets out a chuckle. “Whatever you say, fruitcake.”

He’s gone before Robby can get another word in.

“But on a serious note,” Robby focuses his attention back onto you. “Your shift been okay so far?”

He’s still not used to this, used to having someone who cares so much to hear what he has to say, what he’s feeling. Sure, Dana and Abbott had always offered him a shoulder, but with you it felt different, felt like you genuinely wanted to know every time, not like you were asking because you thought you should. 

“It’s been good.” He answers, and the words feel honest for the first time in a long time. “As good as it can be with Myrna here, anyway.”

That pulls a laugh from you. “I ran into her in chairs, she told me my ‘ass looks tight in those shorts, cupcake’.”

From what he’s seen, Robby’s inclined to agree with her. “Let me walk you out, I’ll give you your keys outside.” He needs you to himself for a moment.

Your brows pinch for a second but you nod. 

He follows you through the maze of desks and gurneys, lingering a few steps behind for a moment to get a proper look at you in those shorts. Yeah, Myrna was right.

By some stroke of luck the ambulance bay is currently unoccupied, and Robby takes full advantage of the privacy, pulling you against his chest with one swift tug. You laugh at him with a shake of your head, but your arms still wind around his neck. His hands find their home in the dip of your waist, savouring the heat that seeps through the fabric of your sweater.

“You sure you just brought me out here to give me my keys?” There’s a teasing tone in your voice, but Robby can see the way your eyes keep catching on his lips.

“Do you want me to just give you your keys?” He asks, leaning forward just enough for your noses to brush.

“... No.” 

Robby feels you lift up onto your toes to press a kiss against his lips. It’s not chaste or quick, the type of kiss he should be having at work. No, there's an urgency in the way your lips move against his, the way your hips press against his.

He takes advantage of your eagerness and lets one of his hands fall from your waist, his fingers finding purchase in the skin of your thigh right where your shorts end. You let out a noise of surprise that only spurs him further, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a brief second before you’re forced to pull back.

“I can hear a siren…” You whisper against his lips, your chest slightly heaving. “Which means I should probably get out of here.”

Robby nods, pressing one more kiss against your lips before fishing your keys out of his pocket. “Wait for me at my apartment tonight?”

You grab your keys from his hand. “Definitely.” 

With one last kiss, Robby watches as you wander back out into the streets of Pittsburgh, a pep in your step that you didn’t have a few moments ago. He bites back a smile, slipping back into the ER with a smile on his face right as an ambulance pulls into the bay.

[emmyrosee]

Rintaro feels guilty leaving this time.

You’re expected to deliver your twins any day next week, and he’s expected to fly across the country for a charity event he really can’t even think straight for. You've assured him you'll be fine, his sister is more than capable of taking care of you while he's gone, but there's a pit in his stomach about the idea of leaving you.

But you send him anyways. With a kiss on his cheek and a promise to call him every day (if he had it his way, it would be every hour, but you wouldn't go for it).

The trip goes smooth enough, and he's grateful for you staying true to your word and calling him every night. It does make the time pass, you're safe, but he's more than eager to make it home to you.

He practically pushes his teammates out the door, he's the first one on the bus, his knee bounces anxiously the entire time- especially when the bus driver makes a wrong turn into straight construction, thrusting them in traffic for far, far too long without any service.

But you won't call him, right? Why would you, you've called him at night every day he's been here, and nothing of note has happened (not that that’s a negative to Rintaro, he’d rather your days be mundane and boring than active in your pregnancy).

His heart finally starts again once they pull into the airport parking lot, all of the teammates trying to not be annoyed at the events of the morning and trying to stay focused on the next steps of boarding the plane in a few hours.

Rintaro sighs, slipping his phone out and immediately calling you, not taking notice of just how many notifications bombarded his phone.

The line ring once, twice, and his shoulders relax as you finally pick up the phone. "Rin?" You ask, and you sound like you're in discomfort. But he merely brushes it off. You are very pregnant, after all, surely discomfort is normal.

"Hey babe, just got service from being in the bus, we've got a nasty delay because the fuck-head made us miss our fucking flight, so I might be home later than expected-"

“Rin, I'm in labor.”

Silence fills the line.

“No you’re not,” he says simply.

“As much as I would love to be kidding, I’m not. I’m 10 centimeters, babe.”

How you’re so calm right now, is beyond him.

Him, on the other hand, leaps up with absolute panic, a screechy “WHAT?” echoing through the airport. It catches more than a few looks from other people, but all Rin can think about is you.

You in the hospital, legs up in stirrups and gown being the only thing adorning your body. There's probably nurses and doctors everywhere, and Kaiya and Akito on the couch at home with his mother, waiting for the news.

"WHEN?"

"My water broke a few hours ago, got to the hospital with your sister and now they're getting ready for me to push. Your timing truly is impeccable."

“And you thought now was the best time to tell me?!”

“I tried to tell you earlier, but you had no service!” You defend.

Fuck, he could scalp the bus driver for getting fucking lost.

"okay, okay, okay lets calm down-"

You snort, "yeah I'll get right on that."

"Please, for everything unholy, don't joke right now," he pleads, and he hears you offer him a laughy 'sorry' on your end of the line. "Are you okay? Do you feel okay?"

"Well I don't feel particularly good, for all intents and purposes." You direct your attention to something else and he hears bustling in the background, "Rin I have to start pushing. Stay on the line.”

"No! Wait for me, I'll-"

"Yeah I'm not waiting for you," you snip. “I'll... be fine. Just stay on the call okay? For me?

Rintaro tries not to pass out as you start pushing, doctors encouragement coming through on the line, followed with your grunts of agony as you try to bring your two new babies into the world. He knows you’re strong, you don’t need him there, but there’s something deep inside of him that hurts at the idea that you don’t, he’s so close yet no where near close enough to be right there next to you, and he anxiously looks around him as he tries to find a private place for him to cheer you on, call your name, scream it, his soul in agony over something he has no control over.

It could be four minutes or four hours, rintaro has no idea as you finally scream in agony as a small wail breaks over the line, one akin to Akito and Kaiya’s as the two of them entered the world all those years ago.

“Beautiful!” His sister cheers, “just a bit more for Sachiko sis, you’ve got this!”

“No more,” you weakly whimper over the line, and Rintaro tears up as he chews on his thumb.

“Baby,” he chokes, “you’ve got this, okay? You can do this, I’m right here.”

“No you’re not!” You scream.

“Yes I am! I’m right here okay? I’m not going anywhere!”

“Rin I need you-“

“And I’m right here. I promise. Just close your eyes, I’m there, okay?”

Hes not there. He knows you know that. But right now, he can’t feel sorry for himself. He goes silent and listens to the bustling of the doctors and nurses preparing to bring Sachiko into the world, and rintaro has no clue how long it’s been before you’re ready to push again.

“Ready, momma?” He asks, and you let out a sob.

“Im so tired, Rin.”

“One more big push okay?” He chokes. “Push!”

And you do. You let out another shriek as you start to push, rintaro can practically see your legs tremble and face scrunch and throat tight as you let out another blood curdling cry, and before he can think, another set of crying fills the line.

His twins are here.

And he’s not.

“Good job, angel!” He hoots.

“She did so good, Rintaro,” his sister assures.

“I know she did,” he says, hand clutching his heart.

“They’re so handsome Rin,” You babble, and instantly, Rintaro’s face drops. “Such beautiful boys, they're so sweet, so handsome…”

Boys?

Oh fuck. Rintaro briefly thinks back at all the purples and pinks in the closet at home.

Immediately, Rin tries to conjure up an excited tone, squealing out a soft “boys?” in confirmation.

“She’s messing with you," his sister snickers. You’re laughing exhaustedly too, among your sniffles of agony and above the screaming of the newest twin.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” he says, breathless and his chuckles easing out.

“You've got new baby girls, Rintaro," his sister coos.

“We got them, boys!” He announces, causing an uproar of cheers to come from his teammates. He feels his heart sink to his stomach as his throat begins to swell. “I’m so proud of you baby… my good girls.”

“They’re so beautiful, Rin. So beautiful," you cry.

He sits on his suitcase and tries to imagine them, desperately, tiny hands pawing at the air, crying at the newness of the bright light and the world…

All without him. He’s not there.

“Who was born first?” He chokes, desperate to keep his voice steady. It was a complete tossup with the names, whoever was out first or second is precisely how the names would fall. But he just needs you to keep talking to him.

You understand, and you answer shakily, “Sachie,” you sigh. “Sachiko was 20 minutes later.”

“Late; just like momma.”

“Watch it.”

He chuckles around a flood of tears, a hand coming up to bring his hand up to cover his face. Hot, bubbled tears slip down to roll over his thick fingers, trying to stay composed in the airport that’s bustling with too many people.

“Im so proud of you,” he chokes, eyes screwing shut. Not long after, a massive hand claps down on his shoulder, Komori’s eyes flickering with understanding and apology. He’s got nothing to apologize for, but Rintaro takes the kindness regardless and puts a free hand on top of his to squeeze the emotions out. “My amazing girl. Fuck, I can’t wait to see you.”

“Rin, I have to go,” you say, and he hears the gruff voice of the doctor. “I love you so much. Come home safe, you’re no use to me dead.”

“Okay, princess,” he sighs shakily, burying his face in Komori’s stomach to cry. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. You’re gonna be fine.”

He’s 99% sure he should be saying that to you, and not you to him. But regardless.

He waits for the line to die before taking the phone from his ear, blinking up at Komori with absolute heaviness in his heart.

“I should’ve been there,” he whimpers.

“You couldn’t control it, buddy.”

“But I should’ve been there. Not three cities over for some charity that I don't even care about."

It doesn’t matter the assurances Komori could try to pass him. It doesn’t matter that you’re okay, you’re strong and you don’t need him in this moment.

He should’ve been there to squeeze your hand, watch his two babies come into this world with you, kiss your forehead and whisper loving words in your ear.

And he couldn’t manage even that.

[rafeysbunny]

heyyyyyyyy! I have a thought. Do you think that reader could get rafe to beg? Like maybe he did smth that pissed reader off so she’s been ignoring him but rage just can’t take it anymore? I love your writing so honestly just go crazy

-👻 anon

a/n. first ask, i'm so excited! in answer to your question: yes! absolutely, yes! this man is soo pussy whipped, he'd do anything for reader. ty for the request, babe!

two hours of you giving rafe the cold shoulder it's all it takes for him to break. he knows he fucked up greatly, but you're just being so mean that he cannot help the way his lips curl into a pout as he kneels in front of you, pleading for your forgiveness.

only you could get rafe motherfucking cameron to beg like this.

"baby, 'm so, so sorry," he apologizes, big hands gripping onto your plush thighs tightly so you can't get away from him this time, not again. "forgive me, yeah? i know i screwed up, and i'm sorry."

his lips start peppering kisses over the sliver of bare skin under the hem of your top as he keeps muttering words of repentance, the actions making your heart melt. "it won't happen again, i promise to you, angel."

"i'm really pissed at you right now, rafe," you address him for the first time in hours, voice tone sharp.

he doesn't care how cold you sound, though, the fact that you're finally talking to him instead of ignoring his presence nearly makes him cry happy tears. how embarrassing is that? he can't believe you got him this hooked. he should be the one in charge, not you, but, let's be honest, he's too in love with you to even care anymore.

"i know, baby, i'm sorry," he repeats for the hundredth time, puppy, blue eyes staring up at you entreatingly. "what can i do for you to forgive me? i'll do anything, just please, stop being mad."

"anything?"

a mischievous smirk spreads across your pretty face, your mind already conjuring up all the filthy ways he could make it up to you.

"anything, angel."

that's how he ends up tied up to the bed, hands desperately tugging at the fluffy, pink handcuffs in a failed attempt to break free of them while you ride his pretty face. he's fucking drowning in your pussy, dick achingly hard inside his pants.

what a shame you won't make him cum this time, as a little punishment.

your hips rock against his face unabashedly, feeling the way his eager tongue parts your chubby folds to drink up your sweet essence, occasionally slipping inside your pussy to fuck you with it. his nose is rubbing your puffy clit every time you grind down, which has you mewling and shuddering atop him.

"i love you so much, baby," he'd mumble against your cunt, totally mesmerised by the hypnotic sway of your hips and your taste.

your flesh muffle his words and grunts, but you understand what he says and look down at him with adoring eyes, just to find him staring up at you in the same way, pink lips glistening with a combination of your arousal and his spit.

the sight is enough to send you spiralling into a mind blowing orgasm that makes you let out the most lewd moan you've ever made, body shaking as your legs close around his head, almost suffocating him.

"fuck, i love you too," you breath out, the aftershocks of your climax making your brain dizzy. "i forgive you, rafey."

honestly, he doesn't quite understand how this could be a punishment for him, but he's not one to complain.

more.

[ashlynlovestlou]

winner winner (ellabs x reader)

꩜ synopsis: abby and ellie challenge each other to see who can make you squirt first.

꩜ cw: SQUIRTING!!!! , overstim , threesome , smut with absolutely no plot , dirty talk , pet names , spanking , poosay slapping , dom! abby , dom! ellie , sub! reader , tummy buldge , mention of masturbation , this is kinda short i'm sorry

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

the three of you had been at this for fifteen minutes already. it happened when you mentioned to them that you'd never squirted before. of course, being the two numbskulls that they are, they took that as a challenge.

so now you were laying on your back in bed, abby between your legs and ellie at your side.

ellie was holding your hand, rubbing your knuckles with one hand and rubbing your clit with her other. abby, of course, was wearing her biggest, longest strap she has, and she's pounding into you while she cradled your head.

pathetic little whimpers we're escaping your lips with each thrust, but all you could do was take it.

"shhh... sh sh sh." ellie coos, "come on baby, you can take more."

abby is too focused to speak, hitting that spot inside of you repeatedly. your insides were probably bruised now, and she could feel you clenching around her.

"she's gettin' tight, ellie." abby says. ellie snickers, pressing down and pinching your clit. you moan and your back arches off the bed.

you flail your legs, trying to close them in retaliation, but abby keeps them open. "uh-uh. keep 'em wide and spread for me, sweet girl. you close, huh? yeah, i can feel ya." her words send you over the edge and you're coming for the third time tonight. your entire body convulses with pleasure, and both girls marvel at the way your face contorts.

"no way in hell i'm letting you win." ellie mutters to abby under her breath, shooing her away from you once your high is over.

she gives your cunt a few firm slaps before impaling you with her silicon dick. she bottoms out in one go, the tip of her dick kissing your cervix sloppily. hers is much longer than abby's, making a little bump in your lower tummy.

"s' too big." you whine when ellie's hand meets your stomach, pressing down on the little bump she made.

"you've got it, sweet girl. come on, baby, come on." she whispers in your ear.

abby chuckles as she watches this all unfold. she let ellie go first to get you nice and stimulated, in hopes that she could be the one to make you squirt. but the way that ellie was slamming roughly into you made her believe that that wasn't going to happen.

"hurts." you groan, eyes closing.

"keep your eyes open. watch ellie fuck you." abby commands, so naturally you listen. you open your eyes to watch her slip in and out of you. your thighs were covered in slick, and your next orgasm was coming.

ellie's pants and heavy breaths only turned you on more, and it was getting harder to sit still. ellie had a shit-eating grin on her face, knowing what was about to happen.

"scream my name, honey. come on, let me hear you." she coaxes, and you gush at her words, doing exactly that. you yelled her name, in contrast to the little whimpers and quiet whines you were eliciting earlier. you'd never felt more euphoric in your entire life. sure, you'd come on your own hands, their hands, their straps, and even their mouths several times. but nothing compared to the tingles you felt on every inch of your body.

the sheets were wet.

ellie entire lower half was wet.

you were wet, laying in a puddle of your own substances.

ellie laughs and cheers, "you fucking squirted!"

abby groans in defeat after seeing the utter mess you made. her eyebrows were squeezed together, her bulky hand in a tense fist. she shook her head silently, as if contemplating punching ellie in the jaw.

but ellie was too busy celebrating to notice, "fuck yeah! i did it!" she says, pecking you in every little crease and corner her lips can reach.

you were too fucked-out to comment on her celebrating, or abby's defeat, for that matter.

"how d'you feel, sweet pea?" abby is first to check on you after ellie disappears to go fetch some towels.

"fucking amazing." you mumble, nestling comfortably into the crease between her shoulder and neck, "never knew it could feel like that."

she chuckles, kissing your hairline, "there's plenty more where that came from. next time, i'll be the one to make you squeal like that, hm?"

you laugh quietly at her words, nodding.

[omitea]

suggestive content .ᐟ

ⵌ best friend! satoru who lives off the adrenaline that pumps through his veins from the look you send his way when he teases you. the way your brows furrow in frustration, all the while biting your lip to suppress all the words you want to throw at him. he gets on your nerves.

ⵌ best friend! satoru who despite being a greedy little fuck, loves to share his sweets with you— but not without demanding you to get him something in return. and of course his heart almost leaps in his throat when you harshly shove a small bag containing his favorite kikufuku against his broad chest. he almost swore he heard wedding bells in the distance.

ⵌ best friend! satoru who helps you with your outfits most of the time. always the one to be honest, whether if it makes him lose his appetite (always so dramatic) or if it fits your body perfectly. and you can’t remember a time where he didn’t make you feel beautiful. his slender fingers hesitantly ghosting over your waist before pulling back as he smiles so sweetly.

ⵌ best friend! satoru who insists he doesn’t like you like that, but yet can’t help but feel jealous when he sees some random guy talking to you. he feels like he should do something and as he gets ready to approach, he sees you typing something on that guy’s phone. that’s when he feels his chest cave in for the first time. fuck, he does like you.

ⵌ best friend! satoru who avoids you for a week straight instead of building up the courage to talk to you. his long legs carrying him away the moment he even senses an ounce of your presence. he hates it. he hates the way you make him feel, hates the way you’re going on with your day and absolutely hates that guy that caused all of this.

ⵌ best friend! satoru who is surprised when you show up at his door, yelling at him frustratedly while making your way in his ridiculously big apartment. after listening to you, he finally manages to open up about the thoughts and feelings that’s been troubling him. he feels his heart shattering in pieces from the look of disbelief on your face, but they quickly heal back together when he feels your soft lips against his.

ⵌ best friend! satoru who cries when he feels you so warmly wrapped around him for the first time. fists clenching, not knowing where he should place his hands as your hips roll dangerously slow. soft hands wipe away at his tears; the same tears that are making it hard to see your face contorting in delicious pleasure.

ⵌ best friend! satoru who must be looking like a fool for crying, but you feel so good— you make him feel so good. your saliva covered lips swallow his shaky moans, along with the occasional whines that escape his throat the more he feels himself getting closer. and oh, how he couldn’t care less when he sniffed out a pathetic, “please, marry me,” the second he felt something snap.

ⵌ best friend! satoru who feels silly when you kiss him tiredly and tell him that you didn’t give away your phone number that day, but actually helped the stranger with his google maps. he wants to wipe that stupid smile off of your pretty face. so, he does. grabbing your face with trembling hands as he begins to kiss you softly. yeah, he’s a fool who’s definitely madly in love and weak for you.

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 !

[hellfire--cult]

+18 - Just something i would do for boyfriend!eddie

thinking about how Eddie is out with his friends, while you're out with Nancy and Robin, and he gets a text message from you. His eyes bulge out of his skull when he reads you want a dick Pic. In the middle of the day.

In your six months of relationship, there was never a need for one. Spicy pics were not sent to one another because you basically visited eachother daily, so you could just have the real deal. He sends back a message,

Eddie: "Aren't u with nance and robs?"

You: "its for me, i just want a pic. nance has dick pics of jonathan and i don't have a single sexy pic of yours!"

Your request was weird as fuck... but Eddie adored you. He can interrogate you later on. So he goes to Gareth's bathroom, and strokes himself a bit for the head to become slightly red, and his shaft to harden. He wasn't going to send a soft dick pic, it wasn't flattering at all.

He pressed send and he waited, the only thing he received was a 'Thx :)' from you. He hummed in question, following you up with 'i'll c u later?' which you replied, 'absolutely baby'.

When he went to your apartment, he was ready to ask a bunch of questions, but you shut him up by sitting on the couch, giving him a glass of wine. He noticed the color on your lips, probably buying makeup with Nancy today you just decided to try a new lipstick.

But then you kissed him, and the glasses of wine were left on the coffee table as you ravished his tongue with yours. He wondered what had gotten into you, but before he could ask, you were getting on your knees in between his legs while he sat on the couch.

"What?" His eyes widened when you reapplied the lipstick on your lips, taking the small tube out of your back pocket, and popping your lips at him with a playful glint in your eyes. He wasn't going to complain, this not being the first time you went straight for what you wanted and he fucking loved it. He loved when you just decided to use him after doing the most homely of things, or just randomly during the day.

So he helped taking off his jeans, then his boxers. You spat on your hand and you wrapped around his dick, and he was already in heaven as he threw his head back, closing his eyes as he delighted himself into your touch. You got him hard, super hard, and then, you called out to him in a sweet, yet mischievous voice.

"Eddie~" You called and he groaned as he looked down at you, his cock hard resting on your cheek and then you gave him a soft smack of your lips on the tip of--

Oh.

"You fucking minx..." He chuckled as he realized what you had done, how you tricked him earlier in the day, a giggle escaping your lips.

"It's a good match, isn't it?" He couldn't even respond as your lips wrapped around the head, those fucking lips that wore lipstick in the color of the tip of his cock. You matched the redness, the slight pinkish tone of it, and it looked so good on you... it looked so good to see it wrapped around his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down.

And he couldn't wait to smudge it away.

[libingan]

simon riley is a munch it’s canon

simon “ghost” riley was absolutely obsessed with you—specifically, with your cunt. it was an addiction, a fixation, something primal that he couldn’t shake. he didn’t care where you were, what you were doing, or if you were even ready. the man would drop to his knees without hesitation, like he was born for the sole purpose of worshiping you.

—

you could be at the counter, chopping vegetables for dinner, humming to yourself as you moved about. simon could be supposed to be setting the table, but instead, he’d be standing behind you, staring at the way your ass swayed with every movement.

“you expect me to just sit here and eat dinner after this?” he’d ask, his deep voice thick with hunger.

before you could respond, his hands would be on your hips, and he’d be tugging your shorts and panties down in one smooth motion. you’d gasp, but simon wouldn’t give you a chance to protest.

“let me have a taste, love,” he’d murmur, sinking to his knees and spreading your cheeks apart. his hot breath would fan over your folds, and you’d tremble as his tongue darted out to lick a slow, deliberate stripe up your cunt.

“fuck, always so perfect,” he’d growl, his lips pressing wet kisses to your clit. “could spend hours here. don’t need anything else.”

your hands clutch at the counter for support, your knife long forgotten, as simon devoured you like a man starved.

—

you could be curled up on the couch, lost in your favorite show, when simon walked in. you might not notice him at first, but the second he’d see you—legs tucked under you, wearing one of his t-shirts—he couldn’t help himself.

he’d sit down beside you, his hand sliding up your thigh as he leaned in close. “you smell so fuckin’ good,” he’d mutter, his voice low and rough.

“simon, I’m watching—”

“don’t care,” he’d cut you off, already pulling at your panties. “need you right now.”

before you could protest, he’d pull you down the couch, spreading your legs over his broad shoulders as he settled between them. his lips could brush against your inner thigh, and he’d look up at you, his eyes dark and hungry.

“gonna talk to you, love,” he’d murmur, his voice a mix of reverence and lust. “gonna tell this sweet cunt how much i love it. how fuckin’ perfect it is.”

and then his mouth would be on you, his tongue circling your clit, his lips sucking gently as he moaned against you. you could feel him rutting against the couch, so worked up just from the taste of you.

—

it could be early morning, and you could still be half-asleep when you’d feel him stir beside you. you’d think he was just shifting, but then his lips would be on your thighs, trailing slow, lazy kisses up to your center.

“simon,” you’d mumble, voice heavy with sleep.

“shh, love,” he’d whisper, pulling the blankets down to expose you. “just need a little taste. promise i’ll be gentle.”

you’d barely have time to process his words before his mouth would be on you, his tongue slipping between your folds with practiced ease. his hands could grip your hips, holding you in place as he worked, his groans vibrating against you.

“this cunt,” he’d mutter between licks, his voice muffled and desperate. “could fuckin’ die happy right here. don’t even need to be inside you. this is enough.”

and it would be true. simon wouldn’t care if he got off or not—just having you like this, tasting you, hearing your moans, would be enough to send him over the edge every time.