#when bob says its over he’s right

[saulwexler]

i joke but my favorite actor had been playing some version of my favorite character since 2009 and i do want him to say more (i stand by my cancelled wife)

[dirt-str1der]

I will always be vocal about how much dr stone sucks and how stupid it is but to be quite honest it consumes 80% of my waking thoughts and yes i also downloaded the chinese kemonomimi doujin so i could pretend to read it in my spare time

[snowballseal]

Pretty Bird

Sylus X Reader

Summary: Sylus is jealous of you giving Mephisto attention. That's it. You tease him when you find out.

Word Count: 2123

Note: Nothing really, hope I did him justice! His dialogue is a little harder for me to nail down.

---

The first time it happens is when you cross to the N109 Zone to accompany Sylus on an “errand”.

The first thing you do when you reach the ornate, empty house - of course - is say hello to your favorite bird.

“Hey there pretty bird.”

Mephisto squawks, bobbing excitedly on his perch as you bound up to him. You grin and give the crow a gentle scratch on his head. He preens under your touch, mechanical feathers fluffing with another quiet, scruffy caw. Adorable.

Despite his unnerving gaze, which you find to be eerily similar to a certain Onychinus leader, you can’t help but love the little bird. For some reason, it always comforts you a little bit to see him perched outside your apartment, or following you around Linkon. He always tries to act like he’s not spying on you, but you know he is, and you know he’s going to report right back to Sylus. Maybe that’s why it’s comforting.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to sway his loyalties.”

Speak of the devil.

“As if,” you snicker, giving the bird one final scratch before spinning on your heels to face Sylus. He sits across the room in one of his big armchairs, eyes glued to the gun he’s loading, face carefully blank. As always. You saunter over and pop yourself onto the arm of the chair, bumping his shoulder. “You know Mephisto doesn’t listen to anyone but you. I’m just like the fun mom who gives him things.”

His lips twitch ever so slightly, “Mmm, does that make me your husband in this situation?”

Heat creeps up your cheeks.

You are no stranger to Sylus’ flirty nature. That’s how things have always been between you, though it only really gets to you now. Before, when you kind of hated his guts, it was just annoying. Well, maybe even then-

“You wish,” you retort, but there’s no hiding the blush painting your cheeks.

“Hm, I thought you knew me better than that, sweetie.” In an instant, his hand curls around your wrist, giving it a sharp tug that knocks you off balance. You let out an undignified squeak, tumbling right into his lap. And before you can squirm away, Sylus locks an arm over your legs, keeping you trapped against him. Those red eyes freeze you in place, dark and warm with mischief. “Why would I wish for something I could so easily take?”

You stare at him, eyes blown wide, face completely red now. You can’t even form any words in response, which seems to amuse him even more. A smirk curls his lips, and he gives your hip a playful pinch.

“What? Crow got your tongue, sweetie?”

You sputter, finally finding your voice, “Sylus!”

“Good. Now that you’re focused, we can go handle business.” Sylus sets you on the ground, making sure you’re steady before he stands nonchalantly and tucks his gun in its holster. Like nothing just happened! “We don’t want to be late now, do we?”

Before you can even say anything more, he’s heading for the door. It takes a few seconds to shake yourself from your  state of shock, and then you’re quickly following after him.

“Sylus-!”

He cuts you off, that stupid, attractive smirk still on his lips, “And by the way, try not to spoil Mephisto too much, sweetie. He’s grown rather petulant when you’re not around.”

You’re pretty sure your blush sticks around for the entire car ride after.

---

The second time is when you visit on one of your off days. 

When you get there, Sylus is still asleep. You take a moment to crouch by his bed, a fond smile adorning your lips as you take in his peaceful face. You remember when he used to sleep sitting up, so he was ready for anything, but now he looks relaxed. Though you still spot the gun tucked under his bed.

Deciding not to bother him, you quietly make your way back out to the living room and grab a book. It’s about the only way to pass time in the N109 Zone, at least, without getting yourself into anything dangerous. As soon as you sit down, Mephisto flaps across the room and lands on your arm, plopping himself down into your lap like a cat.

A giggle escapes you when the crow throws his head back, looking up at the most awkward angle you can imagine. You give his beak a little rub, and he makes a soft clicking sound, beady red eyes falling shut.

“I swear, it’s almost like you’re a crow with cat programming,” you hum, mostly to yourself. Mephisto ruffles his feathers, though, at the word ‘cat’, eyes flashing back open. You snort, easing a hand over his wings, “No worries, pretty bird, no cats. I’m just kidding.”

He settles back down, seemingly embarrassed by his reaction, which only makes you want to coddle him more. So cute. If only Sylus would be this cute with you. Heat tinges your cheeks at the thought of the tall man resting against your lap, looking up at you with softly narrowed eyes, humming in content as you pet his ha-

Snapping your book open, you throw yourself into the story in hopes of banishing such rogue thoughts. If Sylus knew what you were imagining, he would tease you for years. You really don’t want to feed his ego even more. Mephisto wedges himself between your arm and your side, happy to just fall asleep as you read, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

It doesn’t take you long to actually get immersed in the storyline, though. So much so that you don’t hear the steps coming up behind you.

“It seems you come here more often to spend time with Mephisto than with me.”

You practically jump out of your skin when a strong arm circles your shoulders. Sylus’ voice is a low rumble in your ear, thick with sleep. He leans over the back of your chair, and you narrowly miss the way he eyes the bird in your lap with distaste. He looks far too content curled up on your lap.

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were sleeping,” you hum, closing the book.

He grumbles, sleepy eyes shifting to bore into you. The smallest pout pulls at his lips, and you have to stifle a giggle as you reach up to smooth down his messy hair. Sylus leans into your touch, much like Mephisto did, his eyes flickering shut. Okay, maybe he is just as cute.

“Are you mad I didn’t come cuddle with you?” You tease. Sleepy Sylus is definitely your favorite Sylus. “I didn’t know the big, bad Onychinus leader likes to snuggle.”

“It’s simply to ensure you don’t cause trouble in the N109 Zone,” he murmurs, still just as quick-witted though he’s half-asleep, “I can’t have my kitten wandering around all by herself, now can I?”

“I was just reading, Sylus. No trouble here.”

“Hmm, then you might as well come read in bed.”

You hesitate, fingers tracing along his jaw lightly, “You sure I won’t disturb your sleep?”

Those dark eyes blink back open lazily, a rare, genuine smile dancing in their depths, “Trust me, kitten, my sleep will be much better with you at my side.”

God, you’re weak for this man. Mephisto squawks his complaints as you lift him from your lap, but takes off to his perch without much fight. Sylus feels a flash of victory as you intertwine your fingers. The sensation of your small hand in his eases the strange tightness in his chest whenever you’re apart. He curls his other arm around you possessively, sending the bird a smug smirk.

You catch it this time, lifting a brow as you glance between him and Mephisto. Your brain stalls. Was he…jealous? No way. There’s no way Sylus would be jealous of you spending time with his bird. He’s more mature than that…or maybe not, you realize as he drags you back to his bed, only to lay himself over you like a large cat, using your lap as his pillow. Exactly as you imagined.

Your heart flutters a little, which you’re sure he hears somehow, because he squeezes your waist teasingly. You pinch his cheek lightly before running your fingers through his snowy hair. It’s always softer than you expect.

“Go to sleep, Sylus,” you murmur, voice far too fond, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He hums, and you can feel the sound vibrate through his body. Almost like a purr.

God, you don’t even have a chance, do you?

---

The final time is when you visit the N109 Zone to attend another auction with Sylus. And this time, you catch him in it.

“Where’s Mephisto?”

Sylus’ face sours at your question. You bite back a smile.

Ever since the day you spent napping in his room, you haven’t been able to escape that thought swirling in the back of your mind. So you decided to test your theory. Sylus is always messing with you, afterall. It’s only fair you get a bit of revenge.

“I sent him out to gather intel,” Sylus huffs eventually. Why do you always look for that d***  bird first? “That is his purpose, afterall.”

“Oh.” You feign sadness, letting out a long sigh. “That’s too bad! I brought him some treats.”

“Well, you can leave them here. I’m sure he’ll eat them later,” he says, voice dismissive as he fixes the cuffs of his coat.

“Hmm-” You slowly make your way over to him. Those perceptive eyes narrow on you, watching you carefully while you straighten his collar. “Will he be here later? Maybe I can give them to him after the auction. I miss my pretty bird.” 

Amusement curls in your chest when you see the man’s brows twitch ever so slightly. He’s really annoyed. Now you understand why he loves pushing your buttons so much.

“No, I’m afraid he’ll be busy all night.” You can practically hear him gritting his teeth. Almost there. You keep your eyes focused on his coat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. He’s trying to figure you out and you’re scared that if you look up, the laughter you're holding back will break loose. Instead, you put on an exaggerated pout.

“That’s unfortunate. I was really hoping to see him tonight.”

Sylus growls. Actually growls in annoyance.

“Would you prefer to have Mephisto on your arm tonight instead of me?” His words come out biting and harsh, tinged with unmistakable jealousy.

The air goes silent.

Before you burst into a fit of giggles. Sylus’ eyes widen when you collapse against his chest, your entire body shaking with laughter. He freezes, though his confusion quickly gives way to realization. 

You were playing with him.

“I suppose this is some form of revenge,” he hums, shaking his head. It’s surprising it took him so long to catch on. With anyone else, he’d be beyond angry, but your laughter is so bright, so infectious, that he can’t stop the small smile that pulls at his lips. When you finally look up at him, tears glint in the corners of your eyes. Who thought this would amuse you so much?

“You’re jealous! The Sylus is jealous of a little bird. His bird.” You bite down on your lip in an attempt to muffle the giggles that keep coming, but it doesn’t do much to help. It’s just too much for you. You never ever thought you’d see Sylus actually jealous of someone, let alone an animal.

Sylus narrows his eyes, though they glow with a certain fondness. “Such a sadist, sweetie, messing with a man’s heart so lightly.”

“Oh, but your reaction was so adorable,” you sing, reaching up to poke his cheek. He playfully bites at your finger, making you draw it back quickly with another laugh. “Just the fact that you could even think I like Mephisto more than you is so silly. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Hmm, then I’m afraid you’ll just have to prove my silly conclusion wrong, won’t you?” His hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to the warmth of his body. You oblige him, stretching your arms up and around his neck to draw him down.

“Of course. I can’t have my pretty bird walking around thinking he’s second best,” you tease, fingers curling through his hair. “Even if he has a jealousy prob-”

“Quiet.”

Anything else you say is muffled as Sylus finally kisses you.

Safe to say, after that, you make sure to give Sylus extra attention, especially when Mephisto is around. (Though you do still sneak him treats when Sylus isn’t looking.)

[djarincore]

TAGS: incubus!ghost, smut, dubcon, somnophilia, fingering, PIV

A/N: i had a hard time falling asleep the other night and between that weird state of feeling awake but also asleep i felt this weird sensation of someone touching me sooo... INCUBUS!GHOST banner: @/cafekitsune

this version is definitely sexier than unsettling lol

Slipping between the realm of reality and dream, you lay on your stomach in a half-awake state of grogginess and confusion.

There's a hand on your leg—and, it's slipping further and further up your thigh.

It's heavy against your skin. You feel the individual fingers curve around the meat of your thigh. Then another trails your waist and down your hip.

For a moment you feel like there are hands all over you, touching you, caressing you. A light, unrestrained moan slips past your lips.

The part of your brain that typically jumps into action, demanding for you to kick or scream, remains dormant. You’re too tired to care enough to open your eyes and face what will ultimately be nothing.

In its exhaustion, your brain is conjuring up phantom touches. That's all this is. It will go away and you'll finally be able to slip back into unconsciousness. Or maybe you were already asleep and dreaming.

You bury your face into your pillow and ignore the tricks your brain is playing on you.

But the hands remain persistent, slipping between your thighs, cupping your cunt. You tense as the hand slides your panties to the side, a thick finger drags down the seam of your slit.

“You awake?”

A gruff voice jolts you out of your daze. You turn yourself onto your back and come face to face with a phantom.

A large figure looms over you. His body hides the sliver of moonlight shining through your window, shrouding you and him in darkness. Though his body is that of a man, he isn't entirely human. His face, if you can even call it that, resembles a skull, hollow eyes stare down at you.

Your lips part, only to realize your mouth is dry, a scream barely forms. You attempt to scramble away from his hands, pushing yourself against the headboard.

“Ah, not so fast,” he grunts, gripping your hands and pulling you back flat against the bed. He pins your hands against your chest, squeezing when you wiggle against his grip. “I’m not nearly finished with you.”

Your tongue darts out to swipe across your lower lip. “What do you want?”

The entity doesn't respond right away. He's distracted by the bobbing of your throat as you try to swallow your fear. A hand reaches out to skim the skin along your neck, tracing up the column of your throat with his knuckles.

You hate that his touch is so gentle—so gentle it makes your legs clench. Your brows furrow as you try to push away the desire pooling in your belly as he touches you.

“Same as you,” he says. His hand moves to cradle your cheek, but you turn your head, making him grab your jaw and face him once more.

He leans in close. You see nothing but darkness beyond the holes in his skull mask; the lower half of his face is simply shadow. “Need a good fuckin’. So, lay still and let me work.”

As you breathe him in, smoke and musk, your eyes feel heavy. It's almost pleasant to be stuck in this state, just on the edge of unconsciousness. Your thoughts are a haze, limbs relaxed and limp, pliant beneath him.

“That's right, just give in to it,” he coos, releasing your jaw and wrists. He slides your T-shirt up to reveal your breasts, running his thumb over your pert nipples. “I’ll make you feel good.”

Your mouth falls open when he grinds his hard cock against you. Your chest heaves, but you can't do much against him besides lay vulnerable as he touches you.

He slips a hand back into your underwear, rubbing slow circles against your clit, chuckling when your hips twitch. A finger pets your slit, gathering your wetness along the tip and guiding it back to your clit. He works you up until your legs tremble around him and then pushes two thick fingers into your tight hole. He moves slowly, fingers working inside of you like a caress.

You're a whimpering mess and awfully tired. The more he builds your climax the heavier your eyes get. “I- ‘m gonna-” you muster, weakly clawing at your sheets.

He lowers himself to your cunt, letting his tongue join his fingers, lapping at your juices and moaning. He hums, something low and lulling, “Good girl, let go for me.”

You do as he commands, tightening around his fingers and coming on his hand. The rest of the world begins to fall away as you come down from your orgasm.

You wake to the wet sounds of him fucking you. His cock slides out of your dripping, sore cunt only to thrust back in, fitting snug in your tight walls. Your legs are pushed up, spread and open for him to fit between.

You don't know how long he's been in you or how long you’ve been passed out. “S-Stop,” you whine, hoping to get a break. Even though you assume you slept, you're still exhausted. You fear whatever this entity wants from you, once he has it, you'll never wake up again.

“No,” he grunts. His voice now takes on a heavy rasp, grating and no longer soothing. “Fuckin’ take it.”

“Please,” you whimper. It's pathetic, breathless but all you can seem to muster. “Don't kill me.”

He laughs and the sound echoes through you. He rubs your puffy clit, making you flinch from the sensitivity and clench around him.

“Oh, ‘m not killin’ you; I'm keepin’ you.”

[pasukiyo]

RIDE EM', COWGIRL

tyler owens x f!reader word count: 1,168 warnings: SMUT! tornado sex?, riding, masturbation (both m & f), very sloppy writing, i was just horny after watching twisters okay lol synopsis: it's like he always says, you don't face your fears, you ride em' cowgirl...

 “You take it so fuckin’ well, fuck!”

 Rain pounds against the windows of the truck along with quarter to ping pong sized hail but she rides Tyler faster, his cock pounding faster against her cervix than the little balls of ice that strike the steel of the truck. Her fingernails etch hooks into his shoulders, reminiscent of the hook echo in the supercell on the radar behind her. His palms knead at her hips, guiding her up and down his length, her walls clenching around him. 

 “It’s headin’ east!” Boone’s voice emits from the comms and her hips slow, but Tyler’s hands tighten around them, heaving her up and down his cock himself. Her eyes roll and her head lolls, a string of curses tumbling past her lips. 

 “Come on, baby, almost fuckin’ there,” he mutters beneath his breath like it’s sacred prayer, canting his hips towards hers, bringing her within inches of her end. 

 “Tyler, shit!” She gasps, sinking her nails further into his skin, deep enough to draw blood. “Slow down! I can’t… I can’t fucking take it…”

 He shakes his head, a low rumble thundering deep in his chest like a crack of lightning. “Yes you can, come on,” he groans. “You do so well, takin' my cock so damn good.”

 “Tyler, the hell you doing? We got a vortex on the ground at your six, so are we ridin’ this thing or not?” Boone’s voice sounds from the comms again and Tyler hisses, pressing the pads of his fingers down into the flesh of her waist, hips angrily thrusting up into her. 

 A sob wracks her body and she slumps against him when his hips finally still, his cock sitting dormant inside of her. Every muscle aches in her body and her core practically screams for more, feeling the blisteringly white hot bliss she felt mere moments ago begin to slip away. Perspiration drips in beads down the slides of her face onto his sweat-slicked skin and she lets her lids flutter closed, feeling Tyler’s chest heave up and down beneath her cheek. 

 Tyler huffs and reaches for the transceiver, bringing it up to his lips. “Yeah, we’re ridin’.”

 Her eyelids snap open as Tyler practically shoves her into the passenger seat and she hisses when the back of her head meets the window. “Tyler!” She exclaims as he buckles himself into his harness, gesturing for her to do the same. 

 “Harness on, baby,” he snickers. “This ain’t your first rodeo.”

 As her orgasm slips further away, she scrambles to sit upright in her seat, buckling herself into her harness as Tyler shifts the truck into drive. She hardly has time to get herself properly fastened before she’s being jostled about, slippery palm struggling to find its grip on the handle above her head. 

 The truck bobs up and down against the unsteady ground it drives on, her thighs instinctively closing together at the friction against her core. Tyler glances over when she does, feeling his dick twitch until it’s unbearable— he can’t not take it into his fist. 

 She turns her head almost as soon as he does, feeling her stomach do a somersault as he pumps himself in one hand, steering the truck with the other. 

 “Tyler, we’re driving straight into a fuckin’ tornado right now and you’re jerking yourself off?” She asks with a dent between her brow and he turns, grinning as he does it. 

 “‘If you feel it, chase it,’ amirite?” He says with a wink and she’d admit— it makes her clit throb. He side-eyes her sore, puffy clit before turning back to the mass of churning wind in front of them. “You should really take care of your situation down there. It’s good for the nerves.”

 Blood bites her cheeks as he steers them closer to the tornado and all she can do is stare as he pumps himself, her own hand itching to be between her legs. Tyler drives them into the twister and she can’t fight it anymore, one hand sliding over her clit, the other tightening around the handle above her head. 

 Tyler’s laugh thunders the small interior of the truck, even as rain and wind and hail pound against the top of the vehicle. He anchors the truck into the ground and fires off the rockets, tightening his fist around his cock, tugging angrily, damn near ferally. 

 Tyler’s a fucking animal, anyone could see that. But he’s a whole new breed when they’re alone, absolutely primal. 

 The pads of her fingers race back and forth over her nub, her legs shaking as she brings herself back towards that edge Tyler nearly pushed her over moments before. His name stumbles past her lips in a whimper and she feels his hand snake around her head, bringing her closer. 

 “Fuck, come here,” he growls against her lips before enveloping them with his, his tongue like a bull she struggles to stay atop. There’s a knot building at the pit of her belly that’s on the precipice of rupturing, closer and closer with every flick of her fingers against her clit. 

 “Gettin’ close?” He asks against her mouth and she mewls, nodding. He grins against her lips, “do it.”

 The wind pounds against the steel of the truck and the vehicle rocks as the vortex twirls around them. She used to think this was crazy, absolutely utterly insane and it is— but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t equally exhilarating. She thinks risk is what she’s been missing all her life— and then she met Tyler. It seems risk has been her new normal ever since they started dating. 

 But this?

 This was unlike anything she’s ever done before. 

 When she finally felt herself tip over the edge and her orgasm wreaks havoc through her body, like a cyclone meeting the ground, carving a path into the earth in its wake. A loud string of curses tumble past Tyler’s lips as he, too, meets his end and they’re two identical supercells, spinning into one another until they become one. His mouth is a seal over hers, warm and wet when they meet. Her mind is numb with sex and all she can think to say is his name, chanting it over and over like it’s holy word. 

 The tornado dissipates around them and she can hear the crew cheer through the radios when Tyler finally pulls away, a thread of saliva a bridge between their lips. She falls limp against the back of her seat, the aftershocks of her release rattling her bones. 

 “You’re fuckin’ crazy, you know that, Owens?” She finally says once she’s come to and Tyler laughs beside her, caressing the side of her face with his knuckles. 

 “I always say, ‘you don’t face your fears, you ride em’, cowgirl,” He adds with a wink. Her eyes roll and she reaches for her panties he’d thrown in the backseat, pulling them up her legs. 

 “Jesus, you can’t get any cornier, can you?”

a/n; outing myself as an oklahoman (yes, i do in fact live in the sooner state unfortunately but maybe fortunately in this context lmfao) because the inner storm enthusiast inside of me is SCREAMING after watching twisters. please don't mind my sloppy ass writing here, i was just incredibly horny after watching it LMFAOOOOOO (this is also not proofread!)

🌪️ if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

[rafeandonlyrafe]

heat rage

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving oral, fwb, hooking up, mentions of drinking/partying and hooking up while drunk

“topper, will you shut the fuck up?” rafe yells, making topper physically jump, eyes widening as he looks to rafe.

“i didn’t even say anything.” topper argues back, his voice almost sounding whiny.

“and yet you’re still being too fucking loud!” rafe growls, looking like he's seconds away from standing up and hitting topper across the face.

“alright, come on.” you stand, gesturing to rafe to join you.

“what?” he grunts out, the heat and stress of the day clearly having gone to his head, making him frustrated and angry for no reason, ready to lash out at anyone.

“you're being a dick because you're all upset.” you say, reaching your hand out for rafe to take, but he just swats it away.

“im fine.”

“fine.” you shrug, turning away from the boys and walking towards the stairs. “i guess you don't want me to give you head.”

rafe is scrambling off the couch to follow you up the stairs towards his bedroom, eyes on your ass as you make your way up each step.

“you're gonna be more relaxed after this right?” you question as rafe closes and locks his door behind you. “because if you're just gonna be an asshole all day im going home.”

“yeah, promise.” rafe nods, leaning forward to press a smearing kiss across your lips. his version of a thank you, since the words will never actually leave his lips.

you're not a couple, but you don't exactly just hook up either. you guess it would be defined as friends with benefits. rafe often says you're the one girl he can actually stand to hang out with, and it certainly helps that you often end up hooking up after parties where you drink a little too much.

rafe places a hand on your shoulder, shoving you down to your knees, indicating just how needy he is for your mouth.

you smirk when you realize he's tenting in his shorts, having grown hard in just minutes. you tug at the two sides of his pants, opening them to reveal his boxers.

“come on.” rafe grunts impatiently.

“rafe, you said you'd be nice!”

“after you give me head i will be! come on, i need it.” rafe pushes his pants and underwear down his hips in one swift motion, his cock popping up from its confines.

you place your hand around the base to hold it steady as your lips and tongue tease over the head, kissing and licking as rafe moans. you wonder if topper is able to hear his sounds as you sink down on his cock, allowing it to fill you mouth.

“fuck, we should do this sober more often.” rafe tangles his hands in your hair, helping guide your motions up and down.

you're determined to make this good and memorable, not just because rafe is pissed off and needing the relief, but as a reason to continue hooking up without the influence of alcohol or drugs in your system, wanting to experience rafe fucking into you without being sloppy drunk.

you force rafes length down into your throat as you bob your head, his hands tightening and loosing in your hair like he keeps losing control only to quickly regain it.

“god, that's fucking good.” rafe moans out, his voice low and when you look up to his face you aren't surprised to find his eyes closed, face one of bliss.

you place both your hands on his thighs, giving yourself a good base as you use your whole body to move off and on his cock, truly getting into the motions.

“damn.” rafe curses. hes inclined to let you do all the work, but he's too into the way it feels that he can't help but begin to thrust his hips forward and back.

you feel yourself choking around his cock and try to hold back the gagging noises as he rams into your throat, but you can't hold them back for long.

the noises don't deter rafe, only spur him on more, his hips pumping faster as you feel his cock swelling in your mouth, the telltale sign of his imminent release.

you try to suck, rub your tongue against the underside of his cock, or give some sort of extra stimulation, but ultimately you end up letting rafe fuck into your face, mouth ajar and wet for him, drool dripping down your chin.

“fuck, cumming.” is all rafe can get out before his cum is spurting down your throat in long ropes that you're eager to swallow.

you pull off the second he's finished, taking deep breaths intermixed with coughing you wish you could control, not wanting to seem like you couldn't handle it.

“you good?” rafe asks, attempting to fix your hair by smoothing his hands over the curls he was gripping tightly into.

“yeah.” you nod quickly. “just get me a drink of water.”

you move from your knees onto the bed, breathing deeply as rafe puts his bottoms back on before heading into the bathroom, coming back with a cup of water for you.

“thanks.” you mumble, taking it from him and gulping it down.

“no, thank you.” rafe says, leaning down and in a moment of rare softness pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“we should get back down to topper.” you say, wiping your mouth and taking one last drink.

“shit, kinda forgot he was here.” rafe laughs, helping you stand before walking down the stairs with you, back into the living room where you flop onto the armchair, stretching yourself out and giving your knees much needed relief.

“damn, if i knew all i had to do was get all pissy to have my dick sucked i would have been an asshole this whole time.” topper chuckles, meaning it as a joke, but rafes relieved calm face quickly turns back to one of anger as he growls out.

“oh god.” you drop your face into your hands, all your hard work undone with one sentence from topper.

[sashiavi]

imagine big boy diluc… like VERY HUGE!!1!1!!1 his beautiful thick arms are bigger than ur head, his tummy, his thighs, his ass, HIS TITS FBWNBDKWNDKW idk i have always hc him as big and hairy, it really suits him (in my opinion) and jesus my heart hurts when i imagine fucking him sooo good 😭😔😔😔😭😭😭😔😔

♡ Genshin Impact Big Boys ♡ Ughh you're sooo right- big boy Diluc please rearrange my guts ! ! Diluc needs to be built like Gallagher from hsr !

I've had this idea of him just rOTTING in my notes for genuinely over a year now- was waiting for someone to say it 😩

Warnings : 18+ Smut | Size Difference | Detailed body descriptions (we're analysing this man today)

Hope you enjoy ♡♡

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BigBoy!Diluc with his sleeves rolled up, dark hair on his arms on display from elbow to wrist. Forearms thick and veiny- so fucking strong, throwing you around with ease.

BigBoy!Diluc with his large hands, so warm and tough, bigger than your face. Imagining his palms caressing over your skin, sucking in the heat from his fingers. Archons his fingers, thick, long and calloused and yet still so pretty. Perfect for suckling and choking on them, sobbing when he finger fucks your pretty pussy.

BigBoy!Diluc who eats well, of course he does, with all that luxury and money. He's not as lean as he used to be, when he was the Cavalry Captain for the Knights of Favonious, but Gods was he still strong. Wielding that heavy claymore with ease, carrying stock boxes for the Tavern, effortlessly fucking you in the air, held up by just his hands.

BigBoy!Diluc with strong, broad shoulders, big back and biceps, filled out with thick muscle. Gods his chest- Pectorals filled out with fat and muscle, decorated in delicate freckles and moles and a decent patch of hair on his sternum - Pretty pink nipples sealing the deal.

BigBoy!Diluc with a little bit of a tummy, soft love handles barely peaking over his trousers, still packed with hard muscle, cushioned with a bit of fluff. Perfect for grabbing, pulling his hips towards your own.

BigBoy!Diluc with his hairy belly, leading down down into his pants, happy trail framing his tummy and torso perfectly.

BigBoy!Diluc with his thick thighs, perfect for you to sit on, snuggled in his lap like a lapdog. Perfect for you to straddle and ride, big, warm hands on your hips guiding you to hump on him like a puppy.

BigBoy!Diluc with his large, broad nose, always jabbing and nudging into your perfect pretty clit while he tongue fucks your pussy. His crimson eyes looking up at you from behind the arched bridge of his nose, drunk and bleary, teeth nearly accidentally biting into the soft flesh of your cunt.

BigBoy!Diluc and his fat cock. Thick and pudgy, angry, flushed pink tip oozing globs of pre down his shaft. Gods, his cock. Pulsing and flexing, pretty veins accenting his richly thick length. Heavy shaft bobbing with arousal, struggling to stand tall from its weight.

BigBoy!Diluc with his heavy breeder balls, perfectly accented by his thick thighs. Groomed but still hairy, perfectly pairing with his droopy, heavy cock.

BigBoy!Diluc who has stamina. Fucking up your pussy over and over, holding his warm hand on your tummy, over that thick belly bulge the pudgy head of his cock stabs into you.

BigBoy!Diluc who can easily take all those scratches, teethy kisses, the crescent moons of your nails digging into his back.

BigBoy!Diluc putting pants on in the morning, bare back covered in old scars and new nail scratches. He can barely shuck them on, hindered by the heavy swell of his cock and the thick of his ass.

BigBoy!Diluc who brushes your hair out of your face with his thick fingers, palm rested on your temple, oh so warm in the morning chill.

BigBoy!Diluc with his pretty smile, kissing a soft goodbye on your forehead with his plump lips.

BigBoy!Diluc who will be back later, wrapping you up in the comfiest hug, huge arms wrapped around your body, strength lifting you in a silly twirl, lips peppering hot kisses all on your face.

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[rebelfell]

rub one out┃(for your viewing pleasure-verse)

pornstar!eddie x director!reader

a cheeky (pun intended) bit of filth based on part of my blurb series. I was trying to keep the snippets short, but this just kinda poured out of me over the past couple days.

cw: sex work, simulated adultery, oral (fem receiving)

18+, MDNI┃2.8k

Maybe this was a bad idea.

You couldn’t escape the nagging thought as you stepped outside, tightening the belt on your fluffy white bathrobe, tugging at the terrycloth tail and twisting it in your fingers. Your eyes flitted to each member of your crew, all of them in position waiting to get this show on the road.

Why were you so nervous? You’d certainly done this enough times before not to get stage fright. So why did your stomach feel more tangled than the box of electrical cords in Lenny’s truck?

Part of you almost wished it would rain, or the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you didn’t have to go through with this. But the concrete remained solid under your feet, and the sky overhead showed no signs of altering its radiant blue color. Perfect.

It’s gonna be fine, you thought in an attempt to soothe yourself. It’s all gonna be fine.

And you almost believed it would be.

Sammy, who was barely a step up from an intern, had swiftly been promoted once the plan for you to replace your no-show leading lady was set in motion. You weren’t worried about her, though—she was smart and a quick study; she knew all the shots you needed, and she had a good eye.

If you couldn’t be behind the camera yourself, she was pretty much the only one you trusted.

Well…maybe not the only one.

Eddie’s eyes met yours as soon as you stepped out of the trailer. The sunlight hit his deep brown irises, making them glow the color of rich honey. But behind the liquid gold, you could see his own nerves and it made your stomach flip, wondering what he could possibly be nervous about.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he came up next to you. “You good?”

For a moment, you considered lying. Flashing him a thumbs up or shooting him finger guns like one of those tools you used to do this with. But you knew better by now when it came to Eddie.

“Nope,” you chuckled. “I’m kinda shitting myself.”

“Well, that’s just what the guy about to fuck you wants to hear,” he chuckled back.

A real smile breaks through your tense, fake one and a genuine laugh bubbles up out of your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine when he hears it and the sight makes your chest feel all warm inside.

“No, you’re right,” you said. “I’m okay, I just…don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

His plush pink lips pressed into a straight line, his tongue poking out as he licked them. He reached out a reassuring hand and placed it on your shoulder, rubbing it through your robe.

“You’re gonna be great,” he assured, sounding a lot more certain than you felt.

Easy for him to say. He’s a fucking natural.

Even on your best day doing this, you never felt like you were great at it—competent, sure. Maybe even above average. But not great. Not at all the way you felt since getting behind the camera.

You nodded tightly, your hesitation still written all over your face. His eyes scanned over you and he swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. He then leaned in and placed his lips beside your ear.

“You look…really beautiful,” he said.

His warm breath rushed across your neck, the heat coming off his skin making your ears buzz. An explosion of fluttering began in your stomach, like there were butterfly cocoons in your cereal that morning and now they were all hatching.

“We should get moving,” you said, pulling back. “Burning daylight.”

Eddie straightened. He nodded and you nodded back, sliding past him to do final checks before you started rolling. Telling yourself he must have pumped or popped a Viagra to explain away that bulge in his pants that definitely wasn’t there before he came over to talk to you.

The nerves didn’t disappear once you started working, but your body and brain did snap into a kind of performance mode you remembered well.

You started with some still photography for the VHS box art—shots of you in progressing states of undress, your robe dropping off your shoulder, Eddie pulling it open to reveal your body, his hand running up your thigh in a slow caress.

He let it trail all the way up your stomach and chest until he curled his finger under your chin and tipped your face toward his, letting his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and your heart raced, thinking he might close the gap and actually kiss you—

But after the shutter snapped, he simply let his hand drop and backed away. 

The loss of his body heat sent a chill down your spine and you shivered despite the blazing sun overhead. Eddie’s eyes caught yours, the nearly imperceptible lift of his brow asking, ‘you okay?’ You nodded and another shiver skittered across your skin as you pulled your robe back up.

For the next shot, you climbed up on the massage table and he got into position behind you. His body pressed yours down, your back arching under him as he dipped his head low to take the lobe of your ear between his teeth, palming your exposed breast with his large, strong hand. 

You let your mouth hang open, not even needing to fake the look of desperation on your face. And let yourself believe Eddie’s excitement you could feel digging into the fat of your ass was real too. The little grunts and whines he let out when you wriggled against him certainly didn’t sound fake.

After the photos, there was nothing left to do but move on to the main event. 

You and Eddie reset—him standing in frame, you just outside of it. Sammy panned the camera around, establishing the setting, zooming in on the fountain feature in the pool and then coming around to film Eddie as he snapped a fresh towel and laid it out on the massage table.

From your spot off-camera, it’s impossible not to be mesmerized by the sight. Biceps rippling, tendons in his arms flexing as he smoothed the towel flat. His tattoos stood out even more than normal with him in white slacks and a white polo meant to give the impression of him being an employee of the resort. And the little twist your hair and make-up girl Jael did is something new that only further accentuates the thick column of his neck and his angular jaw.

He’d left off his rings and bracelets, as was typical when he was filming, and you couldn’t help but think about that day in the editing suite. When he’d touched your knee, and you felt the silver ridges press into your flesh. It had jarred you somewhat, how right it felt to have his hand there and how you’d nearly leaned in to meet his lips when you saw his face getting closer.

You hadn’t kissed him that day—promptly removing yourself from temptation in an attempt to salvage some shred of your professionalism. And you (mostly) felt good about that decision. It would have been reckless and destructive and your entire working relationship might have been compromised. You’d made the right call that day, you were sure of it. Mostly…

But today was different. Today, it wasn’t going to derail your career. If anything, your career was mandating you give in to those urges that had plagued you so relentlessly. And that was when it hit you all at once—the realization about as subtle as a train crashing through a wall.

You were going to fuck Eddie.

You’re going to feel firsthand what it’s like to have his face and cock buried between your legs; what it’s like to suck on his fingers and soak them with your spit before he presses them to your clit; what he sounds like when he comes all over your stomach or tits (you can’t quite recall what the script specifies, you just know it’s meant to be outside so he can dotingly clean you up after). 

The barrage of thoughts that storm through your mind are so consuming, you nearly miss your cue to enter the scene. But once you do, you’re rather grateful for the distraction of the set-up dialogue:

“It’ll just be me, today. My husband has a meeting he couldn’t get out of.”

“No, no, it’s not his fault. I got it as a surprise for our anniversary—I should have known better than to book it without checking his schedule.”

“I’m afraid I never know how much to take off for a massage…what do you suggest?”

Eddie answered your last question with a smooth, “Whatever makes you most comfortable,” and a smile so warm it would melt the ice caps.

Giving him a smile of your own, you slowly pulled at the tie of your robe. It fell to the ground in a heap at your feet and Eddie’s dark eyes roved over you hungrily. Now revealed to be completely naked, you feigned some degree of shyness: ducking your head low, looking up at him from underneath your lashes, brushing your hand over your stomach as though to hide it while really drawing his eyes to its plush softness.

“Is this alright?” you asked him with a coy smirk. Eddie grinned, still drinking you in.

“Absolutely,” he breathed. And the raptness in his eyes almost had you believing him.

You took your time getting up on the table, propping yourself up on all fours, letting him (and the camera) take a good, long look at the fullness of your hips before you settled in place. Arms at your side, you took a deep breath as you laid flat on your stomach, relieved there wouldn’t be much dialogue needed for this next part.

Through the little donut headrest at the end of the table, you saw Sammy’s feet as she moved in close—filming tight on Eddie’s hands while he pumped massage oil onto them and warmed it by spreading it between his palms.

Your chest tightened, nerves coiling in your stomach as you anticipated his touch, forcing your body to keep still so you didn’t pull focus.

He smoothed some oil over your skin, starting at the ankles and thoroughly coating your calves. The smell of clary sage filled the air, earthy and warm. And underneath it, a clean and woodsy scent you recognized as Eddie’s soap wafted up to your nose when he leaned in closer.

His fingertips began to knead your muscles, slipping and sliding easily over your skin that was slick with the oil. He made tiny circles with his thumbs, alternating back and forth as they moved in a steady pattern up your calf.

Oh, that’s right…

In all the hubbub, you’d forgotten the whole concept for this shoot was borne on the fact that Eddie went to massage school for real. He’d told you before, after he left his hometown (shit, what was it again? Hawk-something…) that he started collecting different jobs like merit badges.

Just bounced from thing to thing, trying his hand (sometimes both) at whatever life presented. And that included porn. He’d said he only auditioned for that first film he did because someone he’d slept with a handful of times knew a casting director and suggested he’d be good at it.

“He certainly had the dick for it” were her exact words, if you recalled. Strange to think in a way, you might owe that girl your career.

Through the pleasurable haze your mind dipped into having Eddie’s capable hands erasing every ounce of stress you carried in your muscles, you realized he was moving the scene right along while you just lay there humming and moaning with relief at his practiced touch.

He’d lowered his voice to that deep, rumbly register he always used when he was building towards the next phase. His DM voice, as he so affectionately dubbed it. Rough and gravely, yet even and tempered, guiding both you and the audience along on the journey of this fuck.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying…but your husband’s a jackass for missings out on this.”

Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as he moved to your thighs. His fingertips dug into your flesh, kneading it like dough, letting his thumbs swerve dangerously close to your center.

“You deserve someone who puts you first…who knows what he has and worships you…”

One of his thumbs swiped briefly over your puffy lips, and you knew he felt how wet you were.

“You know, I’d never let you out of my sight if you were mine…”

His words dripped slowly and intentionally past his lips, his hands creeping higher and higher up your legs. At last, they slid over the globes of your ass and he groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, spreading you apart to see your center, soaked with arousal that had been pooling there, truth be told, from the moment Eddie had told you how beautiful you looked. 

You heard Eddie’s next line in your head before he said it, “If you really want to relax, I can try a very special technique. I don’t do it for just anyone. It’s a little bit…unorthodox…”

And you were more than ready to take him up on his offer once he delivered the line. 

But Eddie went off script.

Instead of hearing words, you felt the wet heat of his tongue glide through your folds as he buried his face between your spread ass cheeks. Your head popped out of the headrest, letting out a breathy moan of surprise and delight.

The shock on your face was evident as Sammy pushed in close to capture your expression, but so was your pure and utter elation. You’d never felt anything so good in your life…

And it seemed you weren’t the only one.

Eddie groaned loudly as he lapped messily at your folds, his spit mixing with your slick that covered the bottom half of his face. And it was only after a few blissful seconds of eager licking that he even realize what he’d done.

“I’m—mmph—sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” He panted out in between sinful swirls of his tongue, his he words muffled by your ass cheeks because he couldn’t stand to pull away even a little, even long enough to speak. “I had to taste you…”

”It’s okay,” you answered, voice already wrecked beyond belief. “It’s okay, just keep going—”

The command is directed at him as much as it is the crew, who only panicked slightly. Eddie never did stuff like this and they just weren’t ready.

They got back on track quickly enough, Sammy signaling the boom mic to get as close as he can without dipping into frame in order to pick up every lurid slurp and suck of Eddie’s mouth.

After no more than a few minutes, the fluffy towel under you was bunched in your fists and your hips squirmed as Eddie continued to eat you out like a mad man. His tight grip on your ass cheeks held fast, spreading you wider still so his tongue could probe deeper. The sounds he pulled out of you didn’t even sound human to your ears, let alone recognizable as your own voice. 

But you didn’t care.

However you sounded, however you looked, it was superfluous to what Eddie was doing and the precipice he brought you to. Your orgasm hit harder than any drug, than any physical blow. It had you shaking uncontrollably, reaching back to grip the hair at the crown of his head as your hips pushed back to meet every thrust of his tongue while you rode out your exceptional high.

You felt its tingling sensation spread to every inconsequential inch of your body, like an ocean of fire that crashed over you in wave after wave of scorching pleasure. Drowning you in it.

When you finally found the strength in your limp limbs to roll over onto your back, Eddie’s eyes were waiting to meet yours. You could see on his face how sorry he was, how worried he was he’d fucked up. And you tried to communicate with him in that mind-melding, wordless sort of way you and he always did that it was fine—that people were going to love it.

Cocking your brow at him, dipping into a more salacious tone to really sell the transformation from demure housewife to lusty adulterer, you threw in a little adlib of your own.

“That’s some technique you’ve got there,” you teased him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “My husband’s certainly never done that before.”

Eddie’s sly smile returned, his lips curling as he reached out to grip your waist. He hauled you closer with one jerk, bringing you to the edge of the table so your hips were flush with his. The bulge in his white pants was harder than ever when it pressed against your cunt, and he grinned wickedly when he felt just how ready you were for more. He yanked up the shirttail of his polo and whipped it off his body, tossing it behind him where it landed half in the pool.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted softly, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Tysm for reading! 🛸 comments and reblogs keep your skin clear and your crops watered 🫶🏻

[pucksandpower]

Smile! You’re on Camera

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: in which your inability to stay away from Lando means that viewers of your boyfriend’s stream get a free show

Warnings: 18+ content, accidental exhibitionism

You quietly open the door to Lando’s gaming room, the glare of his monitors momentarily blinding you as you step inside. Lando doesn’t notice you at first, his eyes glued to the screen as his fingers fly over his keyboard, immersed in an intense game of Fortnite.

“Hey babe,” you say softly, not wanting to startle him mid-game.

Lando jumps a bit in his seat, glancing over his shoulder to see you standing there, your hair slightly disheveled from sleep.

“Oh hey, bunny,” Lando says, flashing you a quick smile before turning back to his game. “Just give me a few more minutes to finish this round.”

You nod understandingly and walk over to him, leaning down to give him a kiss on the cheek. As you pull away, you spot the livestream chat flying by on the other monitor, viewers eagerly commenting about getting a glimpse of Lando’s girlfriend.

“You’re streaming right now?” You ask with amusement.

“Yeah, been going for a couple hours,” Lando replies, focused on the game. “I woke up early and didn’t want to wake you by coming back to bed.”

You settle down on the arm of his chair, looping one arm loosely around his shoulders as you watch him play.

You nuzzle into his neck, lips pursed to place featherlight kisses along his jawline. The chair tilts back slightly from your shift in position. Lando sucks in a sharp breath, fingers fumbling over the keys. On screen, his character takes a hit.

Lando just shakes his head, trying to concentrate as he fights with an opponent. You continue playing with his hair, leaning in further until your face is right next to his.

“Y/N ...” Lando says in a warning tone, though you hear the smile in his voice.

“Hmm?” You murmur, sucking your mark above his collarbone as your hand drifts down to his chest.

“I’m trying to win here,” Lando protests half-heartedly.

“Mmhmm ...” you hum against his skin, nipping lightly at his jaw as your fingers deftly undo the top buttons of his shirt.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Lando protests half-heartedly. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

You glance pointedly at the screen. “It can wait.”

Lando looks back at you, eyes darkening. For a moment you think he’ll give in. But then he turns back to the game, hand coming up to adjust his headset.

“Just hang on a minute, bunny. I’m almost done.”

You huff, sitting back. The negligee rides up your thighs. Lando’s eyes dart down before focusing ahead again.

Fine then. If he won’t pay attention to you, you’ll just have to make it impossible to ignore you.

You shift again, this time straddling him completely. The chair creaks louder. You settle against him, arms coming up around his neck. Your lips find his earlobe, teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

Lando inhales sharply. “Bunny ...” he says warningly.

“Hmm?” You hum, the picture of innocence even as your mouth continues its exploration of his neck.

Lando squirms beneath you. “The stream-”

“Forget the stream.” Your hands slip lower, dancing along the waistband of his joggers. Lando chokes back a groan. “Or they’re about to get one hell of a show.”

“Now you’ve done it,” he growls, his mouth finding yours in a heated kiss.

You melt against him, your fingers tangling in his curls as the kiss deepens. Lando’s hands run up and down your back, slipping under your nightgown to caress your skin.

You break apart breathlessly, resting your forehead against his. “I missed you this morning. The bed was cold without you to keep me warm,” you whisper.

Lando’s expression softens. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I just got caught up with the stream and time got away from me.”

You smile understandingly, gently caressing his face. “It’s okay, I know how it is. I just needed my daily dose of Lando.”

Lando chuckles softly. “I’m all yours now, bunny.”

You crush your lips to his. Lando responds immediately, the game forgotten. His hands grip your hips, pulling you tighter against him. Your tongue slips past his parted lips, deepening the kiss.

You give a satisfied hum, rolling your hips experimentally. He’s already hard beneath you. The chair creaks dangerously from your combined moving weight.

Lando pulls back with a gasp. “Wait, the stream-”

You silence him with another searing kiss. “Don’t care.”

Lando gives in with a groan, his mouth moving feverishly against yours. His hands slip back under your negligee, skimming up your bare thighs. You shiver as his calloused fingers explore higher, teasing along the edge of your underwear.

You nibble at his lower lip, reveling in the throaty sound it elicits. His hands grip your backside, guiding your hips as you rock together. The chair jerks and shifts beneath you.

In the background, tinny gunshots and explosions can be heard from the abandoned game. The chat is going wild, viewers trying to figure out what is happening.

Lando’s mouth trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His stubble scratches deliciously against your sensitive skin. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” He mumbles against your collarbone.

“Mmm, mission accomplished then.” You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face back up to meet your lips.

Without warning, Lando stands, hooking your legs around his waist. You cling to him with a surprised squeak. Giggling, you reclaim his mouth.

Lando stumbles forward until your back hits the wall. You gasp as the cool surface meets your heated skin. Lando presses you harder against it, deepening the kiss until you’re dizzy and breathless.

His hands ruck the negligee up higher, moving it out of his way. Eyes locked with yours, he slips a hand beneath the lace edge of your panties, fingers exploring-

“Lando!” You gasp, head falling back against the wall.

He swallows your whimpers with another kiss. His fingers set a steady rhythm that has your toes curling in pleasure. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, short nails digging into his skin.

“Yes, Lando, please,” you beg shamelessly.

With a growl, Lando spins you both around and deposits you onto the edge of his desk. Gaming equipment clatters to the floor. The abandoned headphones swing haphazardly from the monitor.

Lando stands between your legs, hands pushing up your nightgown until it’s bunched around your waist. His eyes drink you in.

“Have I mentioned how fucking gorgeous you are?” He rasps. His hands smooth reverently over your exposed skin.

You loop your arms lazily around his neck with a hum of agreement. “You might have said it once or twice.”

Lando’s eyes sparkle. “Let me remind you again.”

He kisses his way down your neck, over the swells of your breasts, along your stomach. Your breathing turns shallow, hands coming up to tangle in his hair.

Lando pauses, fingers curling under the delicate waistband of your underwear. He glances up in question.

“Please,” you whisper. That’s all the permission he needs.

In one smooth motion he tugs them down your legs, letting them fall forgotten to the floor. Then his mouth is on you, hot and eager. Your head falls back, eyes slipping shut.

It isn’t long before you’re squirming and gasping beneath his ministrations. The edge of the desk digs into your lower back but you hardly notice. Your focus narrows to the feel of his tongue teasing that sensitive bundle of nerves, stoking higher and higher until-

“Lando!” You cry out as the pleasure crests and breaks over you. Your legs tremble, hips lifting off the desk.

Lando works you through it, drawing out every ounce of bliss until you slump back, spent and panting. He presses a final kiss to your inner thigh before rising up to claim your lips.

You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands slip under his shirt, nails raking over the hard muscles of his back. Lando hisses against your lips.

“This needs to come off. Now,” you demand, plucking at his clothes.

Lando happily obliges. He makes quick work of the buttons before shrugging the shirt off. Next come the joggers and briefs in one go. Then he’s gloriously bare before you.

You spread your legs wider in invitation. Lando steps between them, gripping your hips and tugging you forward until you’re poised right at the edge of the desk. He braces one hand by your head, the other angling himself at your entrance.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he says seriously. You smile, touched by his concern even in the midst of passion.

“I trust you.”

The words are barely out before he’s pushing inside. You both groan in unison at the feeling. He stills once fully seated, giving you a moment to adjust.

Then he draws back slowly before snapping his hips forward. You cry out, fingernails scraping at his back. Lando sets a steady pace, each powerful thrust punching the air from your lungs.

The desk rocks and squeaks beneath you. Various items cluttering its surface go tumbling to the floor. You vaguely register the background noise of video game gunfire and explosions still coming from the abandoned stream.

None of that matters right now. The only thing that exists is Lando above you, surrounding you, filling you so exquisitely.

You cling to Lando, gasping his name with each deep thrust. The desk continues protesting beneath you, edging closer to the monitors with every rock of your entangled bodies.

Lando’s forehead presses to yours, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “You feel so good, bunny,” he grits out.

You slide a hand into his hair, guiding his lips back to yours. He kisses you messily, all tongue and clashing teeth.

You can feel your pleasure mounting again with each drag of his hips. His fingers slip between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubs tight, agonizing circles in time with his powerful strokes.

“Oh god, Lando, just like that,” you whimper, teetering right at the precipice.

With a few more well-aimed thrusts, you tumble over the edge again, vision whiting out. Your pleasured cries echo through the room.

Lando groans as you clench around him. His rhythm stutters and then he’s following after you, warmth flooding your core.

For a long moment, the only sound is your combined heavy breathing. Lando collapses against you, face pressed into the crook of your neck. You run a hand lazily through his hair, down his back. Your legs are still locked loosely around his waist.

Finally Lando stirs, lifting his head to smile softly at you. “You drive me crazy but god, I love you.”

You grin, pecking his lips. “I love you too.”

With a groan, Lando carefully pulls out and takes a step back. He helps you sit up from the desk. Your muscles pleasantly ache and wobble like jelly.

And that’s when you notice the abandoned game still on screen, the chat scrolling wildly.

“Oh my god, the stream!” You gasp, smacking Lando’s arm. “It’s still on!”

Lando’s eyes go wide. “Shit!” He scrambles for the mouse, finally clicking the end stream button. The game and camera view disappear from the monitor, replaced by Twitch’s home screen.

Lando turns back to you with an embarrassed chuckle. “Well, that’s probably fifteen thousand people who just got more than they bargained for. And god knows how many more hopped on the stream when news got out of what we were doing.”

You dissolve into giggles, tugging Lando back into your arms. “Think we just made their day,” you say with a wink.

Lando smiles and kisses you sweetly. “You definitely made mine.”

***

Lando fidgets in his seat, thumb tracing anxious circles over your knuckles. You’re crammed into a conference room at the McLaren Technology Centre, facing a panel of stern faces.

At the head of the table sits Zak Brown, face like a disappointed father. To his right is Andrea Stella, lips pressed in a tight line. Flanking them are various PR reps, scribbling furious notes about damage control.

“This was incredibly irresponsible,” Zak begins gravely. “Your actions on the livestream could have had serious repercussions for yourself and the team.”

Lando hangs his head. “I know. I’m sorry, I got ... distracted.” At this, his thumb stills its movements, giving your hand a little squeeze.

You bite back a smile, remembering exactly how you thoroughly distracted him not even 24 hours ago.

“You’re lucky we were able to get your streaming ban overturned,” Andrea adds severely. “We made sure to emphasize that it was an accident but you’re on thin ice here. This can’t happen again.”

Lando nods, the picture of remorse. But you can see the corner of his mouth twitching as he fights back a grin.

“Are we clear?” Zak presses. “No more surprises on stream?”

You lean in close to Lando’s ear while the bosses stare him down. “No promises,” you whisper mischievously.

Lando’s face splits into a cheeky smirk. “No promises,” he echoes.

The PR team bursts into a frenzy, voicing their horror at his response. But Zak hides his own laugh while Andrea just shakes his head resignedly.

“You’re playing with fire,“ Zak says, but there’s humor glinting in his eyes now.

Lando shrugs, unrepentant. His thumb resumes its distracted movements over your hand under the table. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”

The bosses share a look, accepting that this is the best they’ll get from Lando today. The meeting wraps up quickly after that.

As you exit the building hand in hand, Lando pauses, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You know, I never properly thanked you for that distraction yesterday,” he says lowly, backing you against the wall.

You bite your lip coyly. “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?”

Lando’s eyes darken as he braces his hands on either side of your head. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he murmurs before capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

You melt against him, previous scolding already forgotten. His body presses flush to yours, kiss growing more passionate by the second.

After a long moment, you break apart breathless. Looking thoroughly mussed, Lando rests his forehead against yours.

“What do you say we get out of here and continue this at home?” He suggests, voice gravelly.

You grin, taking his hand to lead him eagerly to the car.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” you tease.

Lando chuckles, pinching your backside playfully. “Oh trust me, bunny, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll have at least ten more reasons why.”

“Let’s just make sure the camera is actually off this time,” you laugh. “We can save the encore for after you get your first win.”

[merakidoll]

ෆ 𐙚 onynnie back in full effect!

warnings | chubby black reader. bi! onynnie ( no bxb -_- ) all consensual sex, bondage, watching, ony tells reader that she has to say her safeword .. thats all!

“y-yall gone play like this?” the room was in it’s usual high sexual tension state. but instead of it being you bonded for the free use of the two men. it was now onyankopon’s turn - and he wasn’t happy about it.

you tried ignoring him, bobbing your head on his long length, spit bubbles on the sides of your lips and dried cum all over your face. your tummy bubbled in anticipation for another load, to taste the savory ropes that ony always gave you. your brain was so gone from the room, just enjoying the fullness of your mouth at a good pace, all until ony bucked up in your mouth making you choke. “you hear me ma?” you moved up from his dick taking deep breaths and looking at his low eyes with your watery ones. he was mad, you knew it, he knew it, and connie - the man who’s whole idea it was, and who was watching everything happen from the kitchen with a small bowl of popcorn waiting for the chocolate man to pop- knew it.

“untie me baby. then daddy won’t be too rough” ony held no question in his words, his dick jumping when you looked down at the bed and bit your lip shaking your head. “no?” he said aloud. his voice made you flench, but you were far from scared, in fact it excited you. onyankopon let out a deep chuckle making both you and connie shiver, before anyone knew it the pink cuffs were broken. ony’s wrist stinging as you let out a loud gasp, falling back onto the bed, while the man above you teased his fat tip between your pussy lips.

“you like games yea baby?” ony wasn’t worried about connie at the moment, right now it was all about turning you back into his good girl. you both held deep eye contact, your big eyes scanning over his facial features while your tummy bubbled in anticipation. onyankopon pumped into you hard; his full length stuffing your cunt that you chocked on your spit at the fullness. “b-break daddy!” you cried, voice low and chocked. ony, shook his head, using the pads of his thumb to wipe your cheeks from the salty tears that painted it.

“bad girls don’t get breaks” throwing his head back, he stilled in your pussy when you clenched down hard onto him. his mind went blank for a second, cock waiting to let out its seamen but he was holding himself back- at least until he knew you learned. “y-you want me to stop? say your safe word baby” his balls slapped against your ass, pace speeding up quickly, so fast that your had to bite down onto his shoulder to hold back your screams. in the kitchen connie’s popcorn was long gone, his hands clean and his eyes glued to the ipad while he fisted his cock. he was on the brink of a second orgasm, your cries and mean ony always making his cum so quickly.

he licked his lips when onyankopon whispered in your ears, his eyes focusing on how your own rolled back screaming how you’d be good. a splash coming from between you and ony, while his second lover stilled in your cunt, pearly white teeth gritting together as he came, a small ‘good fuckin girl’ passing his lips. “mm fuck” connie whispered to himself, his hand becoming slimy with his on release. his breath began to slow, connie not paying attention to what you two were doing on the screen. his eyes closed in a high bliss. all until a large hand wrapped around his throat. he slowly opened his eyes, teeth immediately tugging at his lower tip as the man above was fuming.

“you’re next” was all onyankopon said, and those words told so much.

[haztory]

['sex' by the 1975]

⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)

“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.

“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.

“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”

the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed. 

“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.

atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”

“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”

“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”

”some people take a minute to figure it out.”

”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”

“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room. 

his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities. 

its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment. 

its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have. 

there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does. 

there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.

atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort. 

its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years. 

pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.

right. 

“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.” 

“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”

“you’re being mean.” you tell him. 

atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”

“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“

“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”

“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you. 

you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard. 

(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.

[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.

[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.

[9:20] you were our biggest argument. 

[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.

[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip

there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.

you don’t tell atsumu about it.)

“alright. sit up then.”

his voice startles you. “what?” 

suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.

your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.

it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.

“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”

its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.

“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod. 

lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw. 

his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale. 

his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away. 

“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.

“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.

it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.

“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips. 

“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”

“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”

“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”

“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend. 

and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should. 

“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”

“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”

“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet. 

satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear.  “does he touch ya like this?” 

the gasp you release is guttural.

the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.  

his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.” 

its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.

“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.

“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words. 

and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.

you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.

“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room. 

his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise. 

a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in. 

“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension. 

“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”

he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.

there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off. 

but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight. 

there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.

your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.

osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth. 

but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to. 

he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.

you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.

“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”

a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!

[fartcloudfartcloud]

Do you mind doing a smut blurb about dry humping with Logan pls. I just need to read some dry humping with that man omfg

Tysm in advance you write Logan smut so well 😫😫 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Ofcourse I can lovely, and thank u so much omg im blushing. I'd do anything for this old man and if it were up to me I would have achieved atleast 1 nut on every inch of his body. you know how it is. I love writing dialogue so much, so I hope when I do it's like sexy and in character and not like ew why would he say that ykwim 😭😭😭 Also just realized u said dry humping and this is very much not dry, so if u want specifically some like over the clothes bumping and grinding I fuck with that too, just lmk 😋

Logan couldn't wrap his head around how so men come home to their beautiful girls, just to mistreat them. (he told me himself)

He couldn't imagine coming home and doing anything but pleasing whatever fresh faced beauty had burrowed their way into his heart.

Especially when that freshed faced beauty was as freshed faced and beautiful as you.

You'd fight him, shoo him away when he leers over your shoulder at your makeup routine and scold him when he's got his phone camera in your face. You'd never change his mind, no matter how hard youd try.

He didn't know how you could either, especially now when he's got you like this.

The room is hot and sticky as sounds of you and logans debauchery fill the room. The scene is nothing short of pornographic, since hes got you with your soaked core pressed into his thigh, your legs moving you in a mind numbing pattern.

Logans hands on your hips do most the work, though. He's got you pressed down in a way you're not sure you could sustain on your own, your hips locked back and clit taking most of the abuse, and it's driving you up the wall.

Your eyes are cast down, stairing at the fat of your pussy being smushed back and forth, leaving a slimy trail of slick to drip down the sides of Logans limb.

Logans eyes, however, have not left your face for a moment. You look jaw dropping like this, your head bobbing as your hands desperately grab onto whatever they can hold, your moans reaching a fever pich every time he applies just a little more force.

"You can take it, right baby?" The words don't make it past your lips, but you shakily nod and pant an audible "mhm".

"Atta girl," He praises, one hand coming up to grab your chin. He's got a goofy grin on his face, his pupils blown out and his hair falling into his face as he brings your eyes back up to his.

"There she is," His smile turns fond upon seeing your face again. His hand quickly returns to your hip and resumes his relentless assault on your core, this time his eyes locked on yours in an intimate embrace.

Not only can he smell it, but he can feel your impending climax. He can feel the way the slick is pouring from you, can feel the way your bud gets all stiff and sensitive. If nothing else, it was hard to ignore the way you shake like a leaf, your lungs void of air as it all overwhelms you.

"That's it right there, huh princess?" He asks, your voice becoming high pitched and whiney as you nod, your hands tightening on his tanktop.

"Let me see it baby. Don't take those pretty eyes off of me," He orders, picking up the pace, sprinting to bring you to your finish.

"Lo- its- mph~ i-im-" "shhh, just let it go," He whispers lowly, the sound going straight to your already buzzing center. It's not long before your eyes break his gaze, mindlessly rolling into the back of your head as the feeling consumes your body whole.

His hands don't falter, working you through your orgasm as you relentlessly shake and cry in his hands. Your face ties up, eyes now scrunched up and mouth dropped open in what is probably his favorite of all your looks.

He doesn't stop till you're twitching and squirming, whines going from orgasmic to almost painful as your whole core becomes sensitive.

"Fuck- Logan," you plead, wrapping your arms around his waist and hiding your face into your neck. You let out a deep sigh as you relax into him, feeling the waves of your release leaving you and being left with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

He wraps his arms around you too, comforting you with his big arms and firm embrace.

"You have fun, princess?" He teases, kissing the crown of your head and pressing his face against it.

You respond with a quiet "mhm", face refusing to leave his neck.

He holds you like this, whispering soft words of so good, so pretty, my baby, into your ears and making your mind get all floaty and soft.

hope u enjoyed!! thank u for the request, keep them coming I'm having so much funnn omg

[gojobbg]

Goji casually sucking his girl's tits while they're lazing on the couch 🫠 he's just a little bit obsessed with them and has to either be touching or kissing them at all times

I swear by boob lover Gojo. He's so needy and gentle, love our man. ty for the prompt, anon <3

reader(f) x bf!gojo

It had to be a Sunday where the both of you had no plans but to decay in the house.

You admitted your laziness at dawn in regards to cleaning the house, claiming it was 'clean e'nuff.' Satoru could only laugh at you, watching you waddle over to the bathroom to wake yourself up. These days were lovely, truly, since the both of you can spend time with one another without having to go outside or engage in consistent conversation. Comfortable silence was a fan favorite in your household.

Adjusting the large, black sweatshirt you stole from Satoru, you make your way towards the sofa. Satoru watched you from the kitchen, amused at watching you swipe the remote control and put on some sitcoms on the tele. "I'll order us some breakfast, m'love," your other half hums from the counter, "I'll get you your usual."

"Thank youuu," you drag from the couch, grabbing all the pillows you could to support your torso while you distracted yourself with the tv. Satoru promptly places the order and quickly saunters over to you, making himself comfy in between your legs. He, too, was in all lazy attire, with a contrasting white sweat set.

He faced you while getting adjust, his platinum locks getting messy in front of his face. You felt his stare, and his movement as his head got closer and closer to your chest. But this was such a Satoru thing that it was just normal to you. You finally felt hands snake around the sides of your body, the callouses on his fingers lifting goosebumps from the skin of your stomach.

His forearms push up the sweatshirt a bit, allowing him to put his head into it. You let out a few giggles but continue watching your show mindlessly. His hands finally reached the under crevice of your mounds, and your breath quickly hitched. As much as you say you're used to it, it always feels so good whenever Satoru loved on your chest.

Most of his hand caressed the sides of your tits while his thumbs lightly rubbed against your sternum. His cold hands were taken by the warmth of your underboob, the part of which Satoru started to kiss. You lift the sweatshirt a bit to give him better access, and emit a few moans when you felt his tongue tease the lining of your right boob.

Satoru's hot breathe made your buds harden immediately, your pelvis beginning to thrust up on his own. He was getting you in the mood and he knew it. He snickered beneath your sweatshirt, "what's wrong, y/n?"

"...Nothing," you murmur, shaking a bit from the sensation of Satoru's love on your chest.

Letting out another laugh, Satoru kisses his way towards your right tit, his lips peppering kisses around your nipple. For your left, his hand begins to gently squeeze it, with his fingers flicking your nipple every few moments. His hands were clamp and so cold, his hand cupping your boob and tugging it upward before letting it droop down again, and repeat.

"Nn-anh..." moans escape your lips, your sudden inability to keep your legs still. You kept bucking up against him, unable to still yourself from the feeling of a pool forming between your thighs.

"Can't keep still huh?" Satoru teases your squirming.

You respond with moans and a string of soft cursing. His tongue finds its way to your nipple, twirling around it as his hot breath worsened your libido. Your eyes were now on Satoru's head tented under your sweatshirt, completely forgetting about the tv.

Your lover finally wraps his lips around your nude-colored bud, with his tongue flicking your nipple in his mouse. You could feel his teeth begin to graze your nipple, but not quite giving it a nibble. He bobs his head as he sucks your nipple up before letting it go, obsessed with the way it bounces back down until it stills.

"They're so perfect," he whispers, his left hand beginning to twist your other nipple between his middle and thumb. "You're so perfect," he groans, his mouth widening to take more of your chest. Voices emanating from the tv were completely clouded by your own moans and the thought of fucking your boyfriend.

He then wraps his hand around your right tit, concentrating your mound and your nipple. He begins to attack it more aggressively, you could feel his saliva beginning to coat most of it. He gently (but impatiently) tugged at your nipple, sucking it to keep it in his mouth without having to let it go.

"God, I can't get enough of you," Satoru mutters, unable to control himself. His twisting of your left nipple becomes stronger, causing you to arch your back from the fine line between pain and pleasure. You yank off your sweatshirt completely from over his head, revealing your handsome boyfriend with your whole boob practically in his mouth.

His eyes flicker up, keeping eye contact with you as his velvet rose lips caging your nipple while his indecent tongue lapped around it. The sounds of his sucking and hummed moans make you bite your bottom lip, trying your best to cum right then and there. You'd be damned if you came before Satoru fucks the daylights out of you.

Satoru lets go of your tit with a pop! and looks down to admire your tits in the light. "Babe..." you let out with a raspy voice. Your moans roughened your voice as your chest heaved hopelessly for more air. "T-take it easy, will ya?"

He raises one of his eyebrows, a sinister smile painting his lips. "You know me, pretty girl. I can't help myself when it comes to your twin beauties."

He brings both of his hands to the sides of your boobs, and squeezes them towards each other. Your nipples almost touched one another with how close they were. With your nipples now close, Satoru licks his lips hungrily before taking them both in his mouth. You twitch under him, unable to stay still again as you felt his tongue dance between the two buds. He took them at the corners of his lips and sucked them up, letting them go just to do it again.

He teased the in between of your mounds, sticking his tongue in the tight crevice they created. He would trail kisses there, and around both of your nipples before giving each nipple their kisses. "Your turn," he whispers to your left boob, squeeze it lightly with one hand while the other begins to rub your right nipple aggressively in the tips of his fingers.

"T-'Toru, I-I'm close," you admit embarrassingly, your hands cupping your cheeks as you continue to thrust up under his weight. "P-please--!"

"Please hold it, beautiful," Satoru requests softly. His crystal blue eyes lock in with yours, lust and hunger welled up in them. His lips were open agape, his lips shiny from his own play. "I want you to cum around my dick."

You shake your head but do your best to hold it in. But you felt your pussy pulse, your body completely warm and in heat. Satoru returns to kneading them, but he keeps sucking and tugging more aggressively on your nipple. For him, it was saccharine sweet like a lollipop. His addiction to your tits was dangerous, as he sometimes doesn't know when to stop.

"Shit-- Satoru, wait!" You plead, your hands finding their way on his head. Your fingers tug desperately at his soft, white locks. But this only entices him to go harder, your nipple beginning to burn between the jaggedness of his teeth. "Sa--to--!"

Before he could continue, the doorbell rang, with the delivery man hollering outside your door. Satoru lets go of your chest, his eyes pained before rushing over to the door. You rush to pull down your sweatshirt and hold your face, attempting to calm you down as your sweet lover comes back in with breakfast and an adoring smile.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Safe and sound....Kinda" pt. 2

You went M.I.A. and the LADS Men are stressed!

Xavier

"It's been almost a week Jeremiah we need to check places the hunter association won't look" Xavier was already on the move heading towards the first No-hunt Zone of many. Jeremiah trailed behind him almost jogging trying to keep up.

"I understand that Xavier, but you're not in the right head space to-" Jeremiah swallows his words when Xavier whipped around abruptly getting in his face. "to what? Find the love of my life? I'm done waiting around twiddling my thumbs she could be out there dying for all we know"

Xavier turned on his heels and continued on his path "If your way of helping is planting seeds of doubt then don't follow me"

After two days of non-stop searching he did it. In the deepest parts of the forest Xavier found himself at the tip of your Hunters sword nearly taking his head off. His eyes widened in shock just as yours did when you realized who you were looking at "Xav......?" Your words faded as you dropped your sword and fell into his chest almost knocking him over.

"Where have you been? What are you doing in this zone its dangerous"

"I got pulled into rift I've been fighting alone for five days" Your breathing was labored before you began to cough. Xavier flinched from the death grip you had on his arm as you tried to keep yourself upright. That's when he noticed your ripped clothes. Since when was your uniform so short and revealing?

It wasn't.

You'd been tearing you clothes to bandage your wounds, but they weren't doing so well considering they were soaked through in old and fresh blood. Your shoes were missing along with your socks. "I kept fighting because I knew...." A cough tore from your chest making your throat burn as you coughed up blood. "....I knew you'd find me" Your grip loosened as you went slack in his arms.

"Of course I'd find you" Xavier managed you wrangle you onto his back as he sent his coordinates to Jeremiah to come and pick the two of you up. "Just hang on a little longer"

Sylus

You dragged your shoulder along the wall of a back alleyway before dropping falling flat on the ground. You don't know how many days it's been since you told Sylus you'd be back in less than a day. Your vision blurred as your head swam from exhaustion and dehydration.

"I see her!" That voice sounds familiar....

You feel two sets of hands on you pulling you into a sitting position, but your head is so heavy. "Just let me sleep for a while"

"No you have to stay up Boss is almost here" Luke?

"Stay with us" Kieran?

You felt that comforting red and black mist engulf you and soon you were cradled in Sylus' arms. If you didn't know any better you'd say Sylus looked as if he'd been crying. His eyes seemed bloodshot, but what do you know you can barely keep your eyes open. You're probably seeing things.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I dropped my phone & a wanderer shattered my watch .... along with my wrist .... I figured if I got close enough to the N109 Zone .... you would find me" A weak smile graced your lips. "Looks like I was right"

"Let's get you home" He whispered and it was the last thing you heard before your head bobbed one last time and darkness consumed you.

Sylus made sure you had the best medical care money can buy while staying in the comfort of his king sized bed. He wouldn't leave your side as you slowly recovered. "Were you crying over me?"

"Shut up and take your pain meds"

Sylus is hard to write because that man got Mephisto on our ass 24/7

Zayne & Rafayel here ♡

[gh0st-in-green-c0nverse]

golden

percy jackson x reader — you take his place on the throne

cw: EPISODE 5 SPOILERS (ish), swearing

The boat bobs along the water slowly. You feel sick. For a while, the two of you just sit there, still reeling.

“You okay?” Percy asks after he catches his breath.

You’d reached out and grabbed his hand without realizing it in your panic. You’re suddenly very aware of his skin on yours, warm and kind of clammy. You disentangle your fingers without comment.

“Yeah.”

He’s about to say something to fill the awkward silence when your eyes widen.

“There’s the shield!” You exclaim, standing.

He follows your gaze to a golden statue, the shield wedged between its hands. The boat doesn’t stop, though. He looks at you, and then back at the statue.

“We’re gonna have to jump,” he says, and you grimace. The artificial waves are getting choppier.

You eye the water.

“On three?” You finally say.

Percy smiles in a way that he hopes is reassuring. “On three.”

“One…two-!” Before you can say three, the boat lurches and you both topple over the edge.

As soon as the water closes over your head, you’re struggling and kicking. You can’t tell up from down. Your lungs squeeze, your eyes sting. Somewhere in the haze, you see Percy, and you reach out, but he’s so far. He disappears in a whirl of water, and you think, wow, after all of this, I’m about to die in an amusement park.

Suddenly, something solid rushes to meet you and there’s air on your face and you can’t stop coughing.

Percy places an unsure hand on your back as you suck in rattling breaths. He says something, but it still sounds like everything’s underwater.

You shake your head sharply, hand pressing your ear flat until the water drips out and you can hear again. “I’m alright,” you say, before he asks. He helps you stagger into a standing position. For a few moments, the only sound is your wheezing.

Percy squints at the chair. “This is Hephestasus’ park, right?”

You nod.

“I think this is Hera’s throne,” he says slowly, glancing at you for confirmation.

You vaguely recall that story. “She sat in it and couldn’t get up,” you think aloud.

“It was a trade,” Percy continues. “Aphrodite’s hand in marriage for Hera. The shield for…”

One of us.

Oh.

“I’ll do it.”

He catches your arm as you start forward. “Wait a minute!”

“Whoever goes in there isn’t coming back,” you explain, brows set in a hard line.

“I know, that’s why I said wait!”

You yank your arm back. Percy’s face flickers with something you can’t read.

“You need to stay alive,” you say, stressing every word.

“So do you!”

You shake your head. “You have your mom. You have Grover. You have people who need you.”

The I don’t hangs in the air, unsaid.

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again.

I need you, he wants to say.

But he doesn’t.

“The gods chose you, Percy. This is your quest.”

This is wrong. This is so wrong. It’s cruel, and so unfair that they have to choose. Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

“This isn’t about that,” he protests, though he knows he can’t beat you. You’d always had a sharper tongue than him.

You unhook your dagger. He remembers the arch, only yesterday. Is this how you felt? This burning in his chest?

“It is. It all goes back to that prophecy. To fate. To the Fates.”

Your eyes burn with tears as you hold out your dagger for him to take.

He blinks hard. “This is wrong,” he says, voice wavering, and you’ve never seen him like this before. Always tough, always witty. Unserious, sure, but never afraid.

You push it towards him, and he takes it.

“I know.”

Your fingers twitch. You’d hug him, one last time, but you remember how he froze back in St. Louis.

So you don't.

You walk over to the chair, heart pounding. This is a death sentence. This is it. This is it.

“Hey, Percy?”

His head snaps up, lip tugged between his teeth as he holds back tears too.

“Go save your mom,” You say. “Save her, save the bolt, and tell Grover I’m sorry.”

You picture Grover’s face when he finds out what happened to you. You turn away, stand right in front of the throne. It glints in the swimming light.

“And if you have a chance, I don’t know, maybe swing back around here and try to get me out?”

He laughs sadly. “You think you had to ask?”

“Just making sure.”

You sit.

For a moment, nothing happens, and you're worried that you’d said all that for nothing. You’d feel pretty stupid.

And then—

“This is weird,” you say. “It’s warm.”

There’s fear in his eyes and your dagger in his hand.

Something snakes its way up your leg, smooth and fast. It feels like wax, almost, hardening over your skin.

“This is a bad idea,” Percy says, eyes tracking something at your feet. “Stand up.”

You don’t look at what he’s looking at. You don’t want to.

“I can’t.” Panic rises in your chest, fast and unwelcome, and you’d be shaking if you could move.

“y/n—”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, voice hoarse. The words don’t sound right in your mouth. Your legs are completely immobile. Your breath comes in short gasps. “I’m okay. I’m… okay.”

You look at him, trembling and still pretty damp, mouth open like he wants to say something.

Whatever’s seeping onto your face is warm and brittle. You stare hard at his eyes. They’re a shining blue. They’re afraid.

It’s the last thing you see.

a/n: sorry guys cliffhangers make me giggle ‼️ I’ll write another part If u guys would want me to !

[rafeandonlyrafe]

glint of metal

words: 800

warnings: 18+ only, male receiving oral, reader is described as experienced and has a tongue piercing!, facefucking, drinking, semi public sex

rafe doesn’t expect to see the glint of metal when you laugh. he zeroes in on watching your mouth, waiting to see a peek of the piercing every time. he waits until the right time before approaching you, both a couple drinks into the night but not drunk yet, just slightly tipsy.

“your tongue piercing is so hot.” rafe says, hand planted against your lower back, pulling you closer into him as he speaks into your ear over the noise of the party, the loud chatting and pumping bass.

“want me to show you some more of it?” you smirk, pressing closer to rafe, letting him feel every groove of your body, the way your breasts squish against him.

you move quickly through the house until you find an empty room. you’re on your knees before rafe can even plant a kiss on your mouth. he wants to feel what its like to flick his tongue against the metal ball, but it’ll have to wait as you reach for his pants.

rafe watches you as you undo them with ease, clearly used to this sunken position, on your knees looking up to a man. hes just glad it’s him this time. you tug his khakis down, revealing his underwear, cock already growing against the fabric.

you smirk as your tongue sticks out of your mouth, dragging along his length. rafe can feel the difference in texture, but he wants to feel the coolness of the shiny metal. he drags his underwear down his hips, not caring that you were planning on teasing him longer.

you smile as his cock is revealed, not the longest you’ve seen but deliciously thick. you know its going to stretch your throat when you take him all the way in, but you don’t allow him access that easily, grasping the base of his cock to hold it steady as you press kisses to his length, tongue occasionally flicking out but not far enough to feel the piercing yet.

“come on.” rafe groans, reaching to tug at your hair.

you let out a giggle, teasing for a few more seconds before your mouth drops open, tongue coming out to protect his cock from your teeth, but also to stimulate him with the different texture. one he’s never felt before.

you sink down slowly, allowing yourself to get used to having him swelling in your mouth. rafe allows you to take it steady at first, just enjoying the way your slight movements feel.

your intensity turns up quickly as soon as you are adjusted, head bobbing up and down, greedily feeling along every inch of him, even moving your hands to his thighs so you can get all the way down to the base. rafe moans above you are loud and unabashed, not caring if people hear, not when he's got you on your knees in front of him.

“fuck, you're so good.” rafe groans out. it's not just the piece of metal in your mouth that makes the blowjob so good, you've clearly got a talent and a lot of practice. rafe is tempted to ask you if you got the piercing just to make your blowjobs better, but he doesn't want you to stop for a single second to answer.

you pick your pace up, determined to feel rafe release in your mouth, wanting to know what his cum tastes like on your tongue.

rafe meets your pace, rocking forward but still letting you dictate, making a point to slide your tongue back and forth with his every thrust.

you pull away from rafe with a gasp, needing to intake air as you press a kiss to his tip. “fuck my mouth.” 

rafe smirks. he was hoping you'd let him, but he'd take anything you're willing to give. rafe grips your hair on either side of your head, watching the way you prepare yourself with a few deep breaths before your jaw falls open, slackening as your piercing reveals itself, glinting in the low lighting of the guest bedroom you've found yourself in.

rafe pushes in, maintaining the pace that you started, but slowly building up until he's fucking into your mouth, tears streaming down your face, ruining your party makeup.

“fuck.” rafe groans, looking down at the mess he's made of you. “gonna cum.”

he continues to push down your throat until his cock swells, pulling back to jack himself off, tip held over your awaiting gaping mouth.

it takes him seconds to cum, white ropes shooting out and covering your tongue, causing the piercing to disappear as rafe moans throughout his orgasm.

“fuck.” he grunts out, tugging his cock for the last few drops before taking a staggering step back. you keep your mouth open despite the corners stretching into a smile, making sure rafe sees the cum you're keeping in your mouth before swallowing it, even going as far as to lick your lips.

rafe redresses as you recover, standing up and stretching out your legs, knowing you'll have purple knees come morning.

the conversation after is always awkward, but rafe just gives you a smirk, ever his charming self. “let me get you drink?”

“usually guys offer that first, but okay.” you giggle, letting him lead you out of the room and back into the party, not caring who stares at you.

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