#AND I FANTASIZE ABOUT A TIME YOU’RE A LITTLE FUCKING SORRY

[marvelsmylife]

Her innocence is gone

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: Azriel takes your virginity.

Warning: don’t read if you’re under the age of 18, smut, Degration, loss of virginity, blowjob

The day Azriel finally found you was the happiest day of his life. He had waited five hundred years for you and the moment you met, he did not want to leave your side. You were everything he ever wanted in a mate but there was one problem. You have yet to have sex.

He knew sex wasn’t everything, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to have sex at least once to really solidify your union. He was about to ask you if something was wrong with him when you confessed: “I’ve never had sex with anyone before.”

Azriel felt his cock hardening at your confession. You were a virgin. You have yet to be touched by another male. He would be the first and only male you’re going to be with. That part terrified him since you’ve never been with anyone; he had to ensure that your first time was memorable.

After several deep discussions, you and Azriel decided you would have sex for the first time on your one-year anniversary. He wanted it to be special for you and couldn’t think of a better opportunity than on your anniversary.

When that day finally arrived, Azriel planned the entire day, and you enjoyed every minute of it. By the end of the night, Azriel had you pinned on his bed with his hands disappearing under your dress, “Azriel wait.” You removed Azriel’s hand when you felt them slipping into your underwear.

“Is everything alright? Do you want to stop?” Azriel asked, concerned. Part of him was disappointed you stopped him, but he also didn’t want to pressure you into doing something you weren’t comfortable doing yet.

“Gods no,” you sat up and cupped his face, “I just wanted to show off what I’ve been hiding under here.”

Before Azriel had the chance to ask any questions, you got up and started undoing your dress. Azriel felt as if time had stopped when your dress fell and revealed that you were wearing a white lace bra with matching panties. 

You looked so pure and innocent, and Azriel couldn’t wait to taint you, “Cauldron boil me. You look ravishing. Come here, my love,” Azriel beckoned, his cock growing hard at you swaying your hips as you walked towards him.

Azriel’s hands were immediately on your covered breasts and started massaging them. “Happy anniversary, my love,” you whispered as you settled on his lap. Azriel leaned in and kissed one of your breasts while the other one was continuing to be massaged by Azriel’s hand.

You whimpered at Azriel’s action and leaned into his touch. You enjoyed the feeling of his shadows swirling around your body. “They think you are gorgeous as well,” Azriel smirked as his shadows explored your body.

“I think they’re gorgeous,” you breathed out while his shadows started to caress your face.

“Is this ok?” Azriel asked as he reached around and was ready to undo your bra. You eagerly nodded your head and gasped when, in one swift motion, Azriel undid your bra and tossed it to the ground. “They’re fucking perfect,” Azriel groaned before burying his face between your breast and started decorating your breasts with love bites.

You let out a soft whimper at Azriel’s action and started rolling your hips against him, causing him to bite a little too hard and earn a cry from you. “I’m sorry, my love,” Azriel apologized and soon licked the spot where he bit you a little too hard, “Better?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Not wanting to waste any time, Azriel laid you on the bed and started leaving a trail of kisses down your body until he landed on your covered pussy. “I've fantasized about how you taste since the moment we first met,” Azriel moaned before licking your covered core.

“Azriel!” you breathed out at Azriel’s action.

“Say my name like that again. I love it when you say it like that,” Azriel removed your panties and let out a growl as he took in your naked form, “Fucking beautiful, you’re fucking beautiful, my love.”

“Az- oh Azriel !” you shut your eyes when you felt Azriel’s tongue against your clit before disappearing deep inside you.

Azriel smiled as he looked up at you. You were already a whimpering mess, and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet. “Let me know if you need me to stop,” as much as it would pain him, Azriel would stop if what he was doing was too much for you.

To Azriel’s surprise, you began to beg for him to keep going, “Please don’t stop. This feels really good.”

Azriel replaced his tongue with his fingers and skillfully moved them inside you while his mouth was on your clit. With every minute that passed, you became more vocal about the pleasure Azriel was bringing you.

Soon, you felt your orgasm wash over you, “Azriel!” you began grinding yourself against Azriel’s fingers. Azriel continued to move his fingers deep inside you until you physically removed them, “No more. I want to please you now.”

Azriel was about to protest. He wanted to be the one who would be doing all the pleasing, but as soon as he watched the desperation in your eyes, he pulled away and started to get undressed.

A smirk appeared on Azriel's face when he noticed your eyes widened at the size of his cock. “You still have time to back out. I won’t blame you if you did,” Azriel reminded you as he started stoking himself.

“I want to,” you all but shouted and earned a dry laugh from Azriel, “I just don’t know if I’m going to be good at it.”

“Don’t worry, my love,” Azriel held his hand out for you to help you off of his bed, “I will tell you what to do. First, get on your knees for me.”

You felt yourself getting turned on by Azriel’s instructions and did it without a second thought. Your heart started racing, being a few inches away from his erect cock. “Grab it,” Azriel ordered.

Carefully you reached over and took his cock in your hands. Since he was very well endowed, you had to wrap both hands around it and start pumping it. “That’s it. Keep doing that-” Azriel shut his eyes as you began to move your hands, “Once you’re ready, stick the tip in your mouth and- Fuck,” Azriel looked down and noticed you took a third of his cock in your mouth and started sucking on him.

“Fuck, are you sure you’ve never done this before?” Azriel asked, his hands were resting on your head.

All you could do was moan as you tried to take more of him in your mouth, but you felt yourself gagging, “Relax your throat-oh fuck.” Azriel's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and involuntary thrust, causing you to gag.

Azriel was about to pull away to see if you were ok when you held him in place and shook your head no, “Are you sure?” 

“Mhm,” you moaned around him and started bobbing your head faster, finally feeling confident in your actions.

“Good girl. Fuck, I’m almost there,” Azriel fisted your hair tighter as he fucked your throat rougher and got off on the sound of you gagging around his cock.

His shadows, in the meantime, were swirling around your breast and pussy. They wanted to please you just as bad as their master, and they were succeeding. You were wet from both their and Azriel’s actions. “Mmm,” you moaned out when you felt Azriel’s shadows against your clit.

“Come here,” Azriel picked you up and smashed his lips against you. Moaning when he tasted himself, “I love you.”

Azriel moved so that his back was against his headboard and called for you when he was situated. “Go slow so you don’t hurt yourself,” Azriel warned as you made your way over to him, slowly sinking onto his cock.

“Fuck!” you cried out as Azriel’s cock stretched you out. Azriel was tempted to stop you when he noticed the pained expression on your face. Almost as if you could read his mind, you spoke, “No, it’s ok. I’m almost there.”

Knowing there were only a few more inches to go, you decided to sink entirely onto him and let out a cry. “It’s ok. You’re ok. Don’t move until you’re ready.” Azriel tried to calm you down as he wiped away the tears that had cascaded down your cheeks.

You did as you were told and stayed still until the pain subsided. Once you felt comfortable enough, you started to move. While it still hurt a bit, you pushed past it, and soon that pain turned to pleasure.“You’re doing a good job. Gods, you feel so good,” Azriel reassured you while peppering your breasts with kisses.

Just like when you were giving Azriel a blow job, you grew more confident in what you were doing with every minute past. Soon, Azriel had you gripping the headboard as he thrusts into you relentlessly from behind.

“Look at you. My once innocent mate has turned into a filthy whore,” Azriel bit your shoulder blade as he reached around and started squeezing your breast.

All you could do was cry out of pleasure, enjoying all of the derogatory names Azriel was calling you. You knew he didn’t mean them, but for some reason, you felt confident being called a whore or a slut. “Harder, please fuck me harder,” you begged Azriel.

“You’re my dirty little whore,” Azriel repeated, “Mine and no one else’s.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at Azriel’s words, “Only yours. I’m your dirty little whore.”

Needing to see your face again, Azriel pulled out and rolled you over before placing your legs over his shoulder and thrusting back inside. 

“I love you,” Azriel chanted as he watched your facial expression, enjoying the fact that he was the one bringing you so much pleasure. “Touch my wings,” Azriel requested and caused you to look at him in shock.

You knew how protective Illyrians were about their wing, so you asked, “Are you sure?”

After letting out a muffled yes, you reached over and grazed over the sensitive part of his wings. “Oh gods, FUCK,” Azriel found himself cumming inside you and caused you to orgasm as well.

Heavy breathing filled the room as Azriel continued to move inside you until his cock finally softened. “That was amazing.” You had a smile plastered on your face, but that quickly turned into a frown when Azriel pulled out and collapsed beside you, “Why did you pull out? I loved having you inside me.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” Azriel moved you so you were lying on top of him and buried his cock back inside you, “Better?”

“Much better,” you smiled down at him, “I love you, Azriel.”

“I love you too, my love,” Azriel replied while running his fingers up and down your spine, “Happy anniversary.”

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

[elliesbelle]

NOW I HEAR YOUR VOICE EVERYTIME THAT I THINK I’M NOT ENOUGH

#but literally like #that’s exactly what happens now #AND I FANTASIZE ABOUT A TIME YOU’RE A LITTLE FUCKING SORRY #LIKE???? is there NO guilt?!?! i have to live with the grief and you get to be fucking happy #‘i deserved to move on’ ‘you think it was easy to move on’ IDGAF you still moved on?????? #YOU ONCE CALLED ME FOREVER NOW YOU STILL CAN’T CALL ME BACK #the FUCK happened to loving me always????????? through thick and thin???? i never stopped fucking loving you despite what i was going thru!! #all i feel now is fucking shame and disgust for myself because didn’t i fucking say?????? didn’t i fucking say you were gonna leave me again #and you swore you never would again!! then wtf happened!!! #you couldn’t handle my trust issues with you and i just know you hated me for not getting over them #i literally can never trust anyone ever again i am never trusting anybody with my fucking heart again EVER i can’t do it anymore #AND I JUST CANT IMAGINE HOW YOU COULD BE SO OKAY NOW THAT IM GONE #literally you’re fucking okay and in fucking LOVE with SOMEONE ELSE i am literally fucking NOTHING to you anymore #you always have and will ALWAYS find love in and with someone else and i never will again #the possibility of being with someone again literally disgusts me i am not doing it ever again #‘you’ll find someone else eventually’ i am NOT like YOU who always finds someone else i literally have NEVER found anyone else since you #i am literally and have never been enough and you don’t care #v #belle speaks

[its44intheehouse]

IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH THE F1 DRIVERS

Wondering what it would be like to date the f1 drivers? 😏

___________________________________________

warnings: not much, fluff?, implied smut, (smut?), dirty thoughts, mentions of breeding kink, cursing.

Max Verstappen

-he's your biggest fan. in every way possible. he loves to support you, to admire you, to see you happy.

-you're his biggest love. he didn't think he could fall for someone that hard. he's completely whipped and everyone knows it.

-gets jealous a lot, but doesn't always show it, although you know better. he doesn't like it when other men look at what's his.

-that's why he has decided that from now on every man will know who you belong to. either by covering your soft neck in bruises or making you walk out of the bathroom with your cunt stuffed of his cum. he absolutely enjoys seeing you squirm all night and try not to make it obvious to everyone in the room that his seed is dripping down your bare legs.

-he loves how submissive you are for him. of course you love being a spoiled brat sometimes just for the fun of it, because then he gets feral. and you always know it’s gonna end in a lot of orgasms.

“I thought you wanted to be a brat? What happened, schat? Fucked your tiny brain out?” his thrusts hit a spot inside your pussy that makes you see stars. He slaps your cheek to get your attention, knowing you’re going dumb already.

All you can do is cry out and shake your head. You can’t talk. You can’t even think. You’re too busy trying to jerk away from his harsh thrusts.

You know he doesn’t like it when you don’t answer him.

“Talk.” he snaps, squeezing your cheeks tightly then slapping you again.

“YES daddy. Sorry for b-being a brat. Please, please! Make me cum!”

Lewis Hamilton

-spoils you all the time; expensive jewelry, cars, clothes, lingerie, vacations… whatever you need or want. also, his card is always on your phone. he insists you use it anytime you want.

“Get yourself something nice, baby… I want to see you dripping with my wealth. You are my beautiful little wife.”

-will always have a hand on you. in the car while he's driving, on your b*tt when you're walking, on your thigh when you're having dinner with your parents and his fingers successfully rub a spot on your clit through your panties that makes you twitch and moan every time. thankfully, your parents were oblivious.

-kisses the ground you walk on. he's a grown man and isn't afraid to show you how a real man loves his woman.

-especially when he's between your legs, showing you how you deserve to be treated.

“Come on, princess… gimme one more. You’d do anything for daddy, isn’t that right princess?” he softly rubs your cheek with his finger, thrusting a little bit more inside your tight and overstimulated cunt.

“D-daddy… too much. I don’t think I can…” you whimper stupidly, still slightly shaking with the intensity of the last orgasm you just had about 2 minutes ago.

He smirks. “Of course you can, baby. Don’t you want daddy’s babies? Hm?”

He loves how pathetic you get after a few good orgasms. He knows he’s the best you ever had. He can make you cum anywhere, anytime. You let him do whatever he wants to you.

Carlos Sainz

-can be possessive at times, but loves to show you off. you are his most prized possession.

when he met you, he knew he wanted to date to get married, not like the relationships he had before.

-takes you everywhere with him; vacations, races. he can't stand being away from you.

-he secretly fantasizes about you carrying his children. until one night after a baby shower when he confesses to you.

“Mi amor… You don’t know how beautiful you looked today with my niece in your arms. I can’t wait to get you pregnant. Make you my precious wife.”

His touch on your thigh gives you goosebumps, and you suddenly feel impossibly aroused by his confession. He didn’t even need to ask. You’d give him as many kids as he wants.

He recognizes the look in your eyes. The craving, the lust. He knows you like the back of his hand. “You’d like that, no? To walk around all round and heavy with my child. To make these tiny tits swell and burst with the sweetest milk…” he grabs at your breasts and squeezes, making you moan in response.

“Yes, papi. I want to have your babies… please touch me…”

Lando Norris

-you're his best friend. his rock, the girl of his dreams.

-datind lando is the most intense experience of your life. he is a fierce lover. but loves to be soft for you sometimes

-he loses his mind when you're being bossy with him, showing off your bold attitude.

-especially when you're making him beg for you.

“What did you say?” You smirk, hovering on top of him, teasing him sometimes with a swift rub of your wet pussy on his erect and red cock.

Poor baby, you edged him for too long and he couldn’t take it anymore. His cock twitches every few seconds and you know he isn’t going to last too long.

“Please, baby… fuck, please.” His voice is hoarse when he talks, probably from all the moans you pulled out of him already. “Let me fuck you, I need it. I have so much cum for you baby… Please.”

You moan at his words and decide to stop the torture. You needed him too. Nothing compares to the way he stretches your sweet little pussy. Quickly, you align yourself with his cock and sink in, making the both of you moan loudly.

Charles Leclerc

-you're eye candy for this man. ever since he saw you he couldn't take his eyes off you.

-he loves to have you at the races. he's constantly trying to show off and be the best, because he loves the look on your face when he wins or he's doing good.

-he's going to be the most romantic man you've ever had. he's always touching you, always tells you what an angel you are, how beautiful you look, what a good girl you always are for him…

-ESPECIALLY if you’re bent over his lap while he’s driving and you’re sloppily sucking on his cock.

“Mm, fuck. That’s is, mon ange, suck my cock. You’re such a naughty girl.” he mocks you almost, and it makes you even more eager to show him who’s in charge. for once.

Gagging a little, you take more of his length in your mouth, forcing your throat open. Suddenly, you feel his hand slap your ass hard and you can’t control the loud moan that threatened to escape you. Your throat squeezes his head perfectly then, and he lifts his hips up a little, hissing at the sensation.

“Gonna make me cum, baby, fuck.”

Your efforts double when you hear that, and you wrap your small hand around his cock, starting to pump his hard, heavy shaft. Your swollen lips are still wrapped around his head, licking and sucking on it desperately, waiting for his hot, salty cum.

The car stops abruptly and you assume he just pulled over. His hand then snatches your hair in a messily done ponytail and forces your head down his cock, making you cry and gag uncontrollably.

“Take it. You greedy girl. Take my fucking cum. Fuck.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 #f1 #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen smut

[hybridirl]

so pretty.

18+ only, please!

abby x f!reader

a/n: hi everyone!! i’m sorry that this is an abby fic cuz i’ve been getting ellie reqs!! so i’m sorry if i disappoint but i rlly needed to scratch this itch

brief summary: your dad’s co-worker is sooo cute! you hadn’t seen her in so long! tonight, a dinner is happening with his team! you just have to hurry up and get dressed, because she just caught you nakeyyyy.

tw / worship, age gap (it’s not pronounced), pet names, praise, pure smut(?), cunnilingus, cheating, slight mommy kink, rushed sex, reader gets referred to as “daddy’s little girl,” use of y/n, AU

⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚

you let out a quick sigh as you tugged your dress up, slipping your shoulders into the straps and taking a glance at your clock.

fuck, you thought to yourself, dad’s gonna be pissed. you were late downstairs for a very important dinner your dad was hosting! this was your first ever dinner you’ve been invited - no, well, forced to go to. all the other times, your whole time growing up, they’ve been at restaurants which your dad told you you couldn’t go to. well, now they’re here. and now you have to make a good impression and have spectacular manners for these people. uh oh.

you looked at your outfit, a tight-fitted, wine red dress. it was appropriate enough, but it was definitely showing your body off. you didn’t have time to change, though, so, a quick spray of your dior perfume would be your final touch. spritz, spritz, and you’re hurriedly rushing down the steps. you don’t have to peek around the corner to know who’s there: your dad, isaac, manny, owen, mel and… was that abby? you gulped. you hadn’t seen abby in so long, yet she’d been on your mind all that time. suddenly you were self conscious, adjusting your dress and adjusting your hair if you could. you peeked around the corner, and almost squeaked at the sight. she was there. she wore a skin-tight, long-sleeve dress.

why are you covering up those pretty arms? was the first thing you thought. those arms had kept you up at night as you fantasized about them holding you, worshiping you, and vice versa for you. your cheeks were heated, flushed with blood as you became entranced by her body. your eyes trailed down to take in the rest of her, her muscular back, legs, stomach. oh, god. you might have to go back to your room.

“y/n!” your dad called, making your head perk up and the rest of his team turn to look at you. they greeted you with friendly faces, having not scene “daddy’s little girl,” as your dad would say, in a hot minute. you stood up straight, giving a stiff wave as you rushed to go sit down by your dad’s side.

everyone was staring at you. you couldn’t tell if it was the dress, or that they hadn’t seen you. you tried your damndest to never even glance at abby and you did pretty well, barely even uttering a word to her whilst you talked pretty chattily to the rest. yes, that probably hurt her feelings, but your sanity was slightly more important.

you continued to eat, your mind now focused.

“so, y/n,” abby called whilst the others chatted, “how’s school going?” you glanced up, giving an awkward smile as you swallowed your food.

“it’s, uh, going,” you replied with heated cheeks. “it’s going.” she smirked a knowing smile and brought her hand to yours. your gaze didn’t falter as it continued it’s strenuous stare at her face. you tried to hide a growing grin,

“you can always ask me for help,” she offered, “i’m pretty good at math, y’know.” you felt your lips twitching to a small smile and you nodded.

“yeah,” you said with a nod, pulling your hand away slowly. “thanks, mrs. anderson.” she gave you a small smile, her eyes so briefly flickering downward to your chest that you hadn’t noticed.

the night went on, slowly coming to an end while you dismissed yourself upstairs. it was late and you had things to do tomorrow. a quick shower was what you needed while you hurried to the bathroom. everyone had left except for a few stragglers, who you had assumed were going to leave pretty soon.

you quietly entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. you stepped toward the mirror, giving a lopsided smile at your slightly disheveled state. you slipped out of your dress then stepped out the pool of your cloth. you stepped toward the bath, running it whilst you plugged the drain. you sat on the tub, taking off your shoes and socks to flex your feet.

you jumped, hearing a crack of lightning outside the window.

jesus, you thought. you didn’t realize the fan would be so bad. you groaned silently, turning the water off and pulling the plug on the drain. you were slipping back into your dress, the straps just above your waist before the door swings open. you yelped, covering your chest quickly.

“i didn’t know,” the smooth voice stated. your jaw was slack, staring abby in. “sorry.” but she didn’t turn away. her eyes flickered down to your chest, taking in what she could see. “…sorry,” she said once more before beginning to turn away. you didn’t know she was still here, you thought she’d left.

“well, wait,” you called before you could realize what you were doing. her gaze fell back on you, her brows raised. “i… um…” you felt your arms begin to relax, and your eyes widened as they fell to your sides, uncensoring your body for her.

“y/n,” she breathed. “your dad’s downstairs. so’s owen.” you both gazed at each other as a silence emerged. your eyes flicked down her body, especially the muscles that covered her arms.

“…i don’t care,” you spoke softly. you watched her slowly shut the door behind her as she entered. doe-eyed, you watched her approach you. she took a hold of the dress that hung around your waist, pulling it so you were close.

“daddy’s little girl ain’t so little anymore, huh?” your eyelids fluttered, gasping as her lips touched your neck. you hummed a “no” in response and your hand gripped her braid, tugging it as she bite into your neck. she let out a groan at your hair-tugs, which only fueled you. “mm, the boys would be so upset, huh? but, look how pretty you are. how’s a woman like me gonna resist a pretty girl like you?” she paused to pull away from you, “…can i touch you?” you nodded your head and her huge hands went to massage your breasts, eliciting a moan from your lips. “shhh. don’t get loud, baby, don’t get loud. just let mama touch your body.” they moved from your breasts and down to your sides and she spoke once more, “can i pull your dress down, baby girl?” you nodded, and the dress with down, down, down. her hands cupped your ass as you stood and she kneeled. “look at that,” she sighed and kissed your naval. “spread your legs for me, sweet thing, let me take a look at you.” you adjusted, spreading your legs just a tad to let her get a view of your inner lips, wet and needy.

“abby,” you huffed, slightly impatient. she smirked and squeezed your butt hard. you whined, writhing slightly.

“hush up,” she demanded lowly, kissing down your stomach. she sighed as she inhaled your scent, nostrils flaring. “mm, fuck you smell good.” your cheeks heated with embarrassment and your hand went for her hair again, pulling her closer to your throbbing pussy. “so impatient, sweetheart. you’re lucky the boys are downstairs… if they weren’t, i’d be bending you over my knee. god, look at this body…” her hands trailed back up your sides, squeezing your breasts once more. you could feel yourself drip as she began to kiss your thighs. “oh, baby,” she groaned into your thigh, bringing her hands back down. she licked right to your vulva, leaving a trail of saliva on your thighs. “should i tongue this needy pussy?”

“yes,” you gasped, nudging your hips forward. “abby, please.” you’d been waiting for this for so long, you needed her rough tongue on you. she leaned in to give your cunt a sloppy kiss, gently sucking on your clit. you hunched over, pulling her head closer to you. her hands grabbed your ass as she began to lick at you. “abby.” she smiled into your pussy while her tongue flicked against your clit, then dipped into you. “fuck…” she guided your hips along her tongue, each time her tongue found your sensitive little bud, curving right at the end to give you so much pleasure.

“it’s alright, baby, ride mama’s tongue,” she said quickly, opening her mouth wide for you. you obliged, hurriedly running yourself along her tongue.

“abby, abby,” you whined, gripping her hair to pump her head. she kept staring at you, her blue eyes boring into yours. “a-abby.” her hands soothingly ran up and down your thighs and her mouth closed slightly, suckling back onto your clit. “please!” you whimpered, the grip on her hair tightening. she groaned, the vibrations hitting your pussy so perfectly.

“shh.” she kissed your clit a few times before her fingers slipped into you. your jaw fell open and your head tilted back. you moaned her name quietly, heavy breaths filling the air. you could feel yourself, how close you were.

“please let me cum on your tongue,” you pleaded, your eyes locked on hers. she chuckled into your cunt, nodding whilst slurping up your juices. your legs trembled as you approached the edge of your orgasm. whimpers left your throat before you bit your lip, coming undone right on her tongue. she eagerly licked your nectar up, your hips rocking and grinding.

eventually coming down, you slowly pushed her head away. her face was drenched with your essence, a smug smile plastered on her face.

“that good, sweetheart?” she asked with a small kiss on your thigh. you nodded slowly, your breath heavy.

“yes,” you managed to say between labored breaths.

“let’s hope the boys didn’t hear, huh?” she stood up and guided your dress back on before speaking once more, “we’ll be doing this again.”

you bit back a smirk.

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou2 #abby x reader #abby x reader smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut #abby anderson x reader #tlou x reader #tlou2 x reader #the last of us x reader #lesbian #bisexual #tlou x reader smut #abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby tlou smut #abby tlou2 smut #hybridirl .𖥔 ݁ ˖

[dollfacefantasy]

Blue Jeans

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: request from @agent-dessis-posts - leon is looking extra fine in his jeans and when he gets out of the shower. you can't help if you stare... and maybe do a little more. i hope you enjoy!! (sorry i couldn't find a pic of him in jeans for the header)

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v

word count: 2k

a/n: hello fantasizers! (that's what i'm calling you guys now cause i am delusional) back again! thank you all for encouraging my flip phone delusions on my last post. this post is a request. if you sent me a request, know that i am working on it as fast as i can. just be patient with me pretty please :) as always i'm giving you 1000 smooches for your reblogs or comments (they really make me smile and laugh so tysm) <3

Leon looked extra good today. You didn’t think he did anything different to his look this morning, but something about him was hitting you just right today. It was like you couldn’t help but stare at him since he had come home from work. You were trying to get some of your own work done on your laptop at the dining table, but he was unknowingly making that a challenge for you. 

He was reclined on the couch, sprawled across it with his arms behind his head, half-paying attention to whatever was playing on the tv. His thick biceps emerged from his tight white t-shirt and framed his face. The thin fabric did little to hide the definition of his toned abdomen and chest.

Your eyes trailed down his body from your place across the room, settling on his jeans. The way he filled them out was driving you a special kind of crazy today. His muscular thighs wrapped tight in that blue denim. You feel like you can practically see the outline of his dick against the material. Soon, he starts to sit up and you avert your eyes back to your screen.

Leon walks over to the kitchen, seemingly unaware of your ogling. He has his back to you while he surveys the fridge for a snack. You try not to drool as you continue to gawk at him. The muscles of his back were all but visible through that white shirt. But even better than that, your favorite part, his ass. Looking like it was sculpted by an actual god, you had to stop yourself from openly salivating over your boyfriend standing just a few feet away from you.

He turns around, again snapping you out of your lustful daze. This time, he catches it though. A slight smirk appears on his face.

“You know, honey, I could just give you a picture. You could clip it to your laptop, so that way you can at least pretend you’re working,” he says. So he had noticed.

“Oh shut up,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “Like you don’t want the attention. You’re laid up like a fucking Calvin Klein ad.”

“I never said I didn’t enjoy it,” he says, his smirk growing as he walks to you. He kisses the top of your head and rubs your shoulder in a way he knows will work you up.

You look up at him, half-unamused, half-needy. You wrap your arms around his waist from where you sit, sliding a hand beneath his t-shirt to feel his skin.

“Maybe, you could give me some attention in return. Might help me focus,” you suggest as you drag your nails lightly over his side.

“Nope, you’ve got to finish your work, and I’m going to shower,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you say before pinching his side and snaking your hand out of his shirt.

He lets out a quiet laugh and shakes his head. “Be good while I’m gone,” he teases.

“Mhm,” you hum. As he begins walking away, you smack his ass, your hand making a muffled clap against the denim-covered flesh.

He turns his head, also trying to seem unamused now, but you can see the love in his eyes. You smile innocently at him.

“Mhm,” he repeats sarcastically.

“I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go,” you tease as he exits the room.

It isn’t long before you hear the shower turning on in the master bathroom. It takes a minute, but with him out of the room, you’re able to focus enough to get a substantial amount of work done. You’re clacking away at your keyboard, lost in thought, not really noticing how much time has passed or that the shower has shut off.

Your concentration is shattered, however, when your personal work of art himself comes strolling past you into the kitchen with nothing on but a towel around his waist. It seemed like he was glistening, every muscle shimmering in the aftermath of his shower. The towel hung low on his waist, accentuating his v-line and exposing his happy trail. The smell of his shampoo engulfs you as he struts by without giving you a second look.

Internally, you felt like a cartoon character with your jaw dropped and tongue rolled out, an outline of your heart beating against your shirt. You try to keep it cool though and not let on how desperately you want him right now.

“Really?” you ask incredulously, “That’s how you wanna play?”

“Am I not allowed to walk through my own living room now because it distracts you?” he asks, “I know I’m pretty babe, but c’mon.”

You can hear that teasing lilt in his voice and it’s just stoking the flames of arousal inside you more. You close your laptop and stand up. Coming up behind Leon, you lace your arms around his waist and press your cheek to the warm skin of his back.

“You’re very pretty,” you agree, “My beautiful guy. Who’s also an attention whore.”

“I’m an attention whore for existing in your vicinity?” he asks, turning around in your hold so that he’s facing you. He returns the embrace and rubs your back with his thumb.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, you’re my attention whore,” you coo and squeeze your arms around him.

“I guess that’s ok then…” he says as he tilts your chin up and connects your lips in a soft kiss.

You return the affection, your need pouring through your actions. His scent overwhelmed you in such close proximity. You move your mouth with his while your hands glide down to his waist. A couple of your fingers slip beneath his towel, gently tugging it loose. The cloth starts to fall from his hips, but he catches the center, holding it so it still covers his length.

You break from kissing for a moment to catch your breath and take in the sight before you. The gray towel hanging between his legs, leaving his thighs and and hips exposed. You look him up and down, and your hands lower to his ass to feel up the muscles there.

“Like what you see?” he murmurs as you make out.

“Mhm,” you hum, not moving your lips away from his long enough to speak.

He backs the two of you up toward the counter, spins you around, and bends you over the cool marble. You feel both of his hands gripping your hips and the towel now crumpled on the floor against your ankle. He then slides his palms over your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a firm smack. Sliding himself between your legs, he rubs his semi-hard cock against you over your shorts.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he breathes, his voice raspier as he rocks his hips back and forth, “This what got you so hot when you’re supposed to be working?”

“What can I say? You’re irresistible,” you tease, but it comes out more as more of a moan than you intend.

“Cute,” he chuckles before pulling down your shorts and panties, letting them fall to the floor with his towel.

He drags his tip up and down your folds, teasing you as the head nudges your clit. You’re gripping the edge of the countertop as a whine falls from your lips.

“Baby, no more teasing,” you whimper.

“My eager girl. So impatient,” he says as he finally pushes himself inside of you.

You had been trying to think of a reply, but your thoughts get hazy as his cock fills you. You groan, and your head falls forward to rest against the smooth tile. That doesn’t last long because Leon’s hand is in your hair a second later, lifting your head back up and turning it slightly to face him.

“C’mon sweet girl, you were staring so much, now you can’t even keep your head up?” he grunts as he pumps in and out.

You whine and nod, letting his grip support the weight of your head. He smacks your ass again in time with a deep thrust and a strangled moan falls from your lips. You bite your lip as your eyes flutter.

“That’s right, baby. Let me clear that pretty little head so you can work. Can’t think straight unless you’ve had me inside you, yeah? It’s all you care about till you’ve had your fill,” he rasps and grips your hips harder.

His eyes roll back momentarily as your walls squeeze around him once his words sink in. You pulse and feel the hot coils of pleasure tightening in your stomach. He lets out what sounds like a growl at the feeling. The sounds of your skin meeting his fills the room as he picks up the pace.

“Getting close, angel?” he says and pulls you closer by your hair. Your back is arching and you straighten your arms to support yourself upright. You hear his heavy breathing directly in your ear and feel the hot air fanning your skin. 

You frantically nod in response to the question.

“Well, not yet baby,” he says and pulls out of you. You whine, about to complain, but he turns you around and boosts you onto the counter. He slides back in with a groan. “No, none of that. Just wanna see that beautiful face when you cum.”

The new angle has him battering your sweet spots with renewed vigor. He’s got one set of fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh, holding it up so he has room to work his hips for you. His other arm is wrapped around you and supporting your position.

You’re breathlessly whimpering, one leg wrapped around his waist and a hand in his hair. Your skin felt hot against his while the counter felt cool on your ass, especially after you felt the sting of his hand there a few times.

You were already close in the previous position, so you’re barely able to hold it together now. He can tell from the way you’re wildly fluttering around him. Your breathing becomes more like gasps as you approach that familiar edge. His hand on your back slides up to your head and pulls you closer so that his face is in the crook of your neck when he lets out a primal sound that’s somewhere between a whine and a growl.

“You there, honey?” he asks against your skin.

“Mhm,” you hum immediately, nodding again.

“Me too, baby. Let go for me. Squeeze me nice and tight, just like that,” he says, his voice strained and breaking off into a whimper at the end.

You shudder against him and gasp before letting out a long, low moan as you cum. Your body twitches and your head tilts back slightly. He presses some sloppy kisses to your neck before grunting and biting his lip, a choked sound of pleasure emanating from his throat.

His hips sputter and his thrusts lose rhythm as he releases too. You feel his hot, thick cum flooding your insides, the sensation making you tremble with satisfaction. His fingers press hard against your skin while his forehead rests on your shoulder. You feel his ragged breathing on your skin. It’s slightly cool from the light sheen of sweat you’d worked up.

The two of you take a second to catch your breath before disconnecting and untangling your bodies.

“You feeling better now? Less distracted?” he teases, brushing some hair from your face and kissing your forehead.

“Mmm, yeah, but I think I have to take a shower now too,” you say with a grin. You peck his lips in return and then hop off the counter and playfully smacking his ass again.

“I don’t know. You still seem to have something else on your mind,” he says, his own smug smile returning, “I didn’t think my girl would be satisfied after one round. Maybe a few more and then I’ll join you for another shower.”

“I think I like your plan better,” you say as he grabs your wrist and pulls you off to the bedroom.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine

[1427]

would you? (pt. 2)

Negan x Reader

Summary: Your mom died when you were 15, your Aunt Lucille was given custody even though she was battling cancer. When the world gets upended and Lucille dies, Negan is all you have, but he isn’t cut out to be a parent. When he becomes the leader of the Saviors and takes residence in the Sanctuary he’s almost a stranger. No one wants anything to do with you because you’re Negan’s “daughter”. So when you confront Negan about needing company, he obliges. You don’t realize that the feelings you’re developing are inappropriate, but Negan does.

Setting: Height of the Saviors era Sanctuary, Negan’s bedroom. 

Warnings: SMUT, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is early/mid 40’s), virgin!reader, manipulation, guardian!negan (technically it’s Uncle!Negan and it IS mentioned explicitly), oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, stocking!kink, innocence/corruption!kink, reader is described several times as a doll/toy, read at your own risk ok

Word count: 3.3k

A/n: uhm, my heart was racing the entire time I was writing this please read at your own risk fr

// Part 1 //

masterlist

18+ mdni

I was just bending over to grab my pencil, coach. 

For a while, you don’t bring up what happened that night. Going to lunch like everything’s normal. Negan is even more disturbed by this than he was by your innocent flirting. You don’t bring it up, but you’re different. Reminding him of some of his former students. The girls with obvious crushes - ones they were trying to hide but actively weren’t. They’d do things that could easily be explained away. 

Sorry, I only packed these shorts today. I didn’t realize they were against dress code. 

It was easy to not look then, to hardly be affected by silly teenage girls who had no idea what they were doing. He could go to the teachers lounge and flirt with the TA’s if he was really looking for someone younger. But younger isn’t necessarily what Negan liked. ‘Innocent’ wasn’t something he thought he could get into. But with you? He had all control, every single aspect of your life was in his hands - and he knows he fucked up. He knows he fucked you up… but he’d gone and fucked himself up too. Finding himself wanting to teach you everything. So caught up in the knowledge of how bad you want him makes him feel like a king - moreso than any amount of wives. You only wanted him. You only knew him.

Oblivious to Negan’s dirty secret and because he’d threatened to stop seeing you if you continued this flirting behavior you stick with subtle stuff. Wearing even lower cut shirts, mini-skirts and stockings. And sure, the stockings had holes in them. But Negan liked that even more than if they hadn’t. It let him imagine you weren’t this pristine untouched thing. He wasn’t sure which was worse; fantasizing about you as this perfect little doll that’s never been held by anyone, that doesn’t know anything about a man’s body or as this thing he’d corrupted. Giving you romance novels? What an amateur mistake on a colossal scale. 

When you started wearing skirts he could smell you. Your wet cunt, sweet and unmistakable, every single time you walked into his bedroom for lunch. He tries to ignore it, tells the kitchen to make more pungent food, wears cologne, but it doesn’t matter - he could pick your scent out of a line-up of the undead, having had weeks to memorize it. 

Negan’s cologne only makes you more wet for him. You can barely make it through lunch anymore. Trying your best to keep up with the conversation that you’re almost positive he’s phoning in as well, but it’s not easy when all you can think about is him stuffing you full on the bed that sits a dozen feet away. You’re desperate to make a move and terrified that any move you make will disrupt everything. 

You scour your books for some kind of clue on what to do next, how to make it impossible for him to say no - but there’s no obvious answer. With no experience to tell you that Negan was losing his goddamn mind waiting for you to make a move or proposition so that he could oblige it. 

He gets sick of waiting. Sick of drinking down his disgust with himself. It only makes the fantasies more vivid. Almost tangible and right there. All he really had to do? Touch you. And he knows it. 

He’d stopped getting you gifts and novels after that night, but today? Today he had something real fuckin’ special. 

You’re sitting across from him eating… only desserts? Weird choice, but still delicious. “What’s the occasion?” You ask, taking a bite of the strawberry shortcake set out in front of you. 

“Do I need a special occasion to treat my favorite girl?” He says it so casually, but he’s never said anything like that to you before. 

“Okay,” you breathe out a chuckle, “who are you and what have you done with my uncle?” 

“Woah now, ‘Uncle’?” The title made him visibly uncomfortable, but not because he didn’t like it. He was too far gone with you, and now anything that made it more taboo just spurred his hunger further. 

You breathe in deeply, as if you’d just confessed to something. Simply put, you had. He knows how bad you want it. He can smell it on you, and you didn’t care he was your family. Not even just your almost supposed ‘guardian’, no. You saw him as your uncle and you still wanted it. Bad. “Yeah, you are my uncle, aren’t you?” 

“That makes you my niece.” He says it like it’s news. Not understanding that he’s trying to gauge your reaction. 

For some reason, it makes your heart pound. Your ears get hot, and that same smile you’d tried to will away that night he’d forced a confession out of you (in the form of a moan at his touch) blossoms on your face. Pink cheeked and starry eyed, “It does,” you nod, you really don’t know any better, “Anyway, what’s all this about?” 

Negan scrambles for an answer that isn’t the one he can’t say out loud, “Missed your birthday, wanted to… make it up to you.” His voice is low, droning, and it makes you shift in your seat, crossing your legs. Negan notices and smirks at your body giving you away. You’re so easy. 

“Oh… thanks.” You take another bite of the shortcake before moving your fork to his plate to take a bite of chocolate cake. He lets you, he’s been letting you get away with so much more disrespect than he’d ever allow from anyone else. Telling himself that no teenager shouldn’t be getting away with little stuff like that, but really it’s because he likes it. He wishes you would take more control, and just ask him already. He’d wished for weeks that you would press yourself up against him like you had before he’d made you aware of your own feelings for him. And he hates that he told you that you weren’t allowed. That it was wrong. Because it is, but he doesn’t care anymore. 

He’s sick of waiting for you to understand how to make a move, “I got you a little something too.”

It’s almost unbelievable that he’d gotten this for you. One of the saviors had tried to smuggle it to keep for himself, and once Negan saw it… he couldn’t think of something better for you. “Now close your eyes,” he purrs. 

You slam your eyes shut and put out your hands eager to receive another gift. Feeling a hard plastic case being slipped into your fingers, “Now open them.” 

It was a… you had no idea. Looking up at him in confusion you’re met with a look of complete and total satisfaction from Negan. Smiling wide at your reaction. “What is it?” You whisper, smiling back. 

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll show you.” And he winks. He fucking winks. You’re a mess. You’re putty. You have no idea what this little pink egg shaped thing is, enclosed in the plastic balanced in your hands, but you know it’s something… different. He can tell you still have no clue what it is, what it’s for, but he sits and waits for your thanks. 

You can feel it, your legs tremble as you’re about to stand up but you stop yourself. You’re not supposed to flirt with him. And he told you that that’s what hugging him is. At least when you do it. You look to him, chewing on your lip, you want to feel him pressed against you so bad it’s making your knee bounce in anxious anticipation. You think about the fact that if you were hugging him you’d be able to smell his cologne even stronger, maybe you could even get away with kissing him on the cheek. After all, you could just blame it on the gift again. 

He’s just sitting there, leaned back in his chair, staring toward the window. It would be so easy to just… you get up and crash down into his lap. Draping your arms around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck like you always do. This time is different, like everything else has been different since that night. You can’t will yourself to move. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze travels upward. All you can see is his neck, his chin still pointed away like he’s trying to hold himself together. You feel a guilt creeping into your periphery but it’s drowned out by the heat between your legs. Without even realizing you’re doing it, you plant your lips on his neck. 

He’s quick to react, his hand coming to grip your thigh just as instinctually as you had kissed him. Negan is sick of waiting, he was not built for this. “Do you want me to show you how to use your gift?” 

You’re melting, all your senses dizzy with his hand so firmly on your leg. Feeling his calloused palm through the tears in your stockings, your skin prickles. He puts his one arm underneath your legs and the other under your arms and picks you up, placing you gently back down in his chair. The suspense courses through you, tightening and moving to your limbs. The personification and embodiment of an exclamation point, you’re trembling as he stalks around the room. Taking the still unopened gift off of the table, you hear the click of the knife from behind you as he paces. He’s cutting into it as he leans down and breathes in your ear, “If you want me to stop, you tell me to stop, okay?” 

You nod in response, trying to swallow the knot in your throat.  He keeps talking, walking around to face you again as he gets the small mysterious device free from its packaging. “I fucked up with you,” you can tell he’s going to start monologuing like he always does, building up the anticipation you already can’t take. Your hands pulling at the hem of your skirt because you don’t know what else to do with them. “I want you to know that I know I’ve made mistakes. I’ve really really fucked up your pretty little head.” As he speaks he moves back around behind you. Cheeks flushing at the compliment. He’d called you pretty. 

“But don’t worry, kid,” his voice in your ear feels like his stubble beneath your lips that you’ve imagined so many times, “I’m gonna fix you right up.”

His hand glides down your chest from above you and your body dramatically arches into his touch. Shivering as he moves his way down to one leg, pulling on your stocking to maneuver the limb onto the arm-rest. He does the same with the other, as if you’re some doll he’s positioning. You’re putty, not a single ounce of resistance inside of you. He moves his hand to lift up your skirt, letting it fall to your stomach. Unable to look at yourself in such a provocative position you close your eyes. 

“Holy shit, girl.” Negan’s smile devours him as he takes it all in. You’re not wearing underwear underneath your stockings, something he was absolutely not expecting. Your pretty pussy all smashed up against the mesh, your juices seeping through. In the light it almost sparkles. He’s never seen a damn thing like it. He hadn’t even done anything yet, and you were a shaking mess in his chair. Waiting so patiently for him to fix you. 

He had planned on putting the little vibrator against the fabric of your panties and stockings, and while he still could… he can’t stop himself from putting his warm hand between your legs instead. He doesn’t want to stop himself, he wasn’t built for that. Fuck the piece of shit vibrator and fuck all of his stupid fucking plans to take this slow. No, he knows what you really need. Him. 

His big hand comes to rest on top of your mound, pressing his fingers flat against the wet fabric of your stockings hard. The pressure.. the warmth.. your hands immediately shoot up from your sides grabbing his forearm as you gasp at the feeling. Pulling yourself even more flush against him, any piece of him you can get. 

You’re shaking, Negan can’t think straight. All plans out the window, that smell, he needs to taste you. He rubs his whole hand, all four warm fingers, against the sopping fabric in circles for only a few seconds before bringing his hand up to his nose and taking a deep breath in of your scent. (He won’t lick you from his fingers, that’s somehow beneath him.)

You whimper under his touch and whine when he pulls away, but you don’t move other than to put your arms flat against the armrests of the chair. He was going to fix you, right? So you submit, not really even understanding how to react to any of this. 

His dick is so hard against the fabric of his pants that it hurts. He tries to readjust, but it only makes him groan. Your neck cranes at the noise, but before you can get a look he’s in front of you, pulling up on the mesh directly above your heat, taking the knife he’d still been holding and cutting into it. The sound of the stockings tearing only makes Negan’s dick harder, revealing your glistening cunt like unwrapping a fucking present. Just for him, all for him. He did this… all of it. 

He rips the fabric more before pulling your hips closer to the edge of the chair and kneeling down on one knee. His face buries against you with a haste you weren’t expecting, your body shooting up at the feeling. So sharp and too much, you squirm against his tongue but he keeps you still. Growling into your cunt, “I said I’m going to take care of you, doll, so you have to let me.  Stop. Moving. Just…” his tone softens, and he kisses you sweetly on your hood, “relax.” 

Negan dives back in more gently this time, taking in the taste of you slowly. Drinking from you, he’s never tasted anything so sweet. So pristine. His tongue swathing in large laps against your lips, you’re trying your best to relax but your orgasm builds faster than you can tolerate. It felt like fucking magic, filling you with stars that buzzed all the colors of the rainbow. He flicks his tongue between your folds, directly onto that spot and your orgasm shoots through you like a bullet. From your core to the top of your head, no orgasm you’d ever had had felt like that. It left you wanting, it wasn’t enough. Your walls pulsate, gushing thick white perfect ecstasy into Negan’s mouth. He snickers against you, his nose resting gently on your still quivering clit. 

He doesn’t want to wait - picking you up like you weigh absolutely nothing, bringing you and your dizzy head to lay gently on his satin sheets. Bliss; and yet, you yearned. 

Inside. 

Your whole body shouting, the personification and embodiment of a fucking exclamation point. His belt clacks against your sensitive folds as he races to get himself inside.

And then, all of a sudden and just like that - you’re whole. His lips smashing into yours in a desperate need to claim every part of you. 

When he’d imagined it in his head you were naked, all skin and blush and like sweet honey coating his senses. It was all different, but he didn’t mind you like this. Clothing soaked with sweat and your own sweet nectar; he felt like he was in high school and he’s taking your virginity underneath the bleachers. All limbs and throbbing need and no time, no breath to waste.

 He kisses you deep and rough until you can’t breathe and you pull away, still adjusting to his size which you imagine is large from the discomfort inside of you, snaring itself into your vision like white flashes of electricity.

His first few labored thrusts hurt like you imagined it would, though it’s not like anything you’ve felt before. The burn of your walls stretching over him makes your breath hitch sharply in your throat, “That’s a good girl,” he purrs in your ear as he pulls out and slams into you harder. Tears sting your eyes as you nod into his shoulder, silently willing him to keep going. Don’t stop. He couldn’t stop even if you’d asked him too, your pussy is too wet, too hungry and swallowing him whole. He knows what you need, he can tell, even if you couldn’t. You need this. 

Negan is seeing fucking stars, your hole stretching so perfectly around him like it never needed anything more, “Fu-uck,” he’s not going to last 5 minutes. He leans back, taking your hips and pulling them off of the bed to stay attached to his while he fucks you like that. Your shoulders still down against the bed, you’d never read about a position like this and it hurts but you like it. Your eyes traveling down his body as he buries himself slowly into you. All the way to the hilt, and that’s when you see it.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, causing him to look down and see what was going on but he had already pulled back. 

“Hm?” His tone is amused. 

“Do it again,” you whine. He smirks a brilliant flash of white teeth, before his face completely falters at the sight when he presses himself all the way into you again. Both of your eyes wide as the outline of his cock protrudes from your belly. 

“Jesus,” his voice is loud, it seems to vibrate your brain against your skull. He draws himself out of you and shoves back in - more unceremoniously than previous. He’d been trying his best to not hurt you, to take it as slow as he could manage; but seeing his hard length poke out of your body was too divine, way too fucking hot for him to not lose any semblance of control he’d had. 

Negan drowns you out, your loud screams, your hands clawing at his forearms, as he rails into you. Eyes fixed on your stomach as he watches; he doesn’t even realize you’re cumming until your hips shake violently in his grip. Your walls clench so tight his cock is pushed out. Negan clicks his tongue, as if you’d done something wrong. Moving himself in position back on top of you, his elbows coming to rest above your shoulders, his whole being swallowing you up. Your arms and legs wrap around him to try and still your shaking body as he ruts up and into you like a wild animal, his breathing jagged, his movements much less languid. Rough and desperate and all consuming. 

Using your body like a toy to get himself off, he’s hardly paying attention anymore. Grunting curses that you’re trying to memorize through a hazy veil of satisfaction.

He’s. Falling. Apart.  

And it’s wet and hot and so deep inside you that you can feel it in your fucking throat. You scream, loud, as he empties himself inside you.

Quickly, too quickly, he pulls himself out. He wants to watch his seed spill out and onto the gray sheets. You’d said you fucking sucked at painting, but Negan thinks this is the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever fucking seen. His cum dripping out of your freshly and newly used pussy in soft glistening strings to pool underneath of you, the white in stark contrast to the dark fabric is something real fuckin’ special. 

He’s smiling, kneeling above you with his hands on your stockinged knees as he watches between your legs. You’re in another world, on another planet and lost in your senses. It was everything you’d dreamed it’d be. Heaven. 

Negan had every intention on this being a one time thing. After all, hysteria was curable - but as he lays back on the bed to catch his breath he’s already caught dreaming about you in every position, any way he can place you. His perfect little toy, all just for him. Only his. 

#negan x reader #negan fanfiction #twd negan #negan smith #negan smut #negan x you #negan the walking dead #negan twd #jeffery dean morgan #jdm

[ningvory]

I KNOW YOURE GETTING A SHIT TON OF REQS NOW AND IM SO SORRY TO ADD THIS BUT...

noncon with g!p ning2 would be so cool fr

like so apologetic too like "im so sorry i just couldn't help myself" while just continuing what she was doing to reader kcilwajvnw

pairings: perv!gp!ningning x f!reader

warnings: noncon, pussy eating, squirting, cum eating, blacking out, pussy whipped ning, somnophilia, not proofread😭

thinking abt ningyi being the quiet girl in your class and was shocked when you decided to sit next to her because you’re just so stunning!? great personality, good grades, and drop dead gorgeous!! you think she’s cool so you become friends with her.

ningyi would definitely check you out countless of times. oogling at your tits and how your thighs looked in your thigh high socks, it always caused her to have a boner but she couldn’t help it :((

whenever you guys would have to walk up a flight of steps, ningyi would always walk behind you to see up your skirt. revealing your pretty pink panties to her.

you two would have a project in your class so you decided to invite ning to your dorm so you guys to work on it. you decided to wear something comfortable so you wore a almost too little crop top with some random shorts that do nothing to cover you up.

when ning finally came and got situated, she couldn’t help but stare at your tits, you weren’t wearing a bra so your nipples were showing, causing her mouth to water because she was fantasizing about how she wanted to suck em and fuck em so bad :((

you guys would finish so late you just told her to stay the night, it was the weekend anyway. you would tell her that she can sleep in your room with you because you didn’t really mind! she would be so stiff beside you, trying her best to hide her raging boner, she felt herself leaking in her boxers :((

she would wait for you to sleep to finally help herself, tapped your shoulder just to make sure. she remembered that you were a little bit of a deep sleeper so if she needed anything she didn’t have to ask, she definitely used that to her advantage! ning would straddle your tummy, head in the crook of your neck taking in your scent because you smelled soo good! she lower herself down to your legs, taking off your shorts and panties. she began to kitten lick your cunt, letting lost in how good you taste. she immediately froze when she felt you stir, poor baby was scared of getting caught :((

when she felt that you stopped moving she decided to finally help herself, she took off her shorts and boxers, rock hard dick against her tummy. she aligned herself with you cunt and pushed in, when she started she really couldn’t stop! she felt like she was in heaven, you milking her dry. her head flew back and she was pounding into your cunt, her moans drowned out your quiet whimpers until she felt you stir.

“n-ning??” you spoke out groggily, letting out unintentional moans because your cunny was getting pounded into.

“i’m so sorry, y/n!! i really am! i couldn’t help it!!” apologizes and moans would spill outta her mouth, she really was sorry but your cunt was squeezing her so well :((

ning would have to pin you to the bed because you were crying for her to stop bullying your cunt but she couldn’t help it! mumbling apologies and apologies until she’s stuffed you up :((

she would eat her seed right out of you, diving into your overstimulated cunt. eyes rolling back and hips humping the bed because of the mixture of her cum and your cunt on her tongue! she would have to keep your legs open because you were trying to close them around her head, she would have you squirting all over her face until you blacked out on her! <33

#ningvory #kpop smut #g!p #aespa smut #wlw smut #aespa x fem reader #aespa ningning smut #ningning smut #ningning x fem reader #♡.nabi’s anons #♡.nabi’s asks

[drudyslut]

ghostface!rafe. 18+ only!

want ghost!face rafe to break into my house. he’d find me in my bed asleep and walk over to me, pressing a knife to my throat as he whispers “time to wake up baby.” i’d jolt awake, a scream being ripped from my chest but he’d slap his gloved hand over my mouth, taking the hand with the knife and pushing my hair from my face with it. “i know you’ve fantasized about this baby, and i’m here to give you what you want.” he’d remove his hand from my mouth and rip the blanket from my body. he’d use the knife to cut my shirt off my body, moving to the thin sleep shorts i wore next, leaving me in nothing but a soaked thong. “i bet you’re soaked, baby.” he’d tease before he took the glove off his right hand to run his fingers through your soaked pussy. a dark chuckle would fall from his lips, saying, “fuck, you’re so wet. does this shit really turn you on?” i’d whimper and swallow thickly, my face turning a bright shade of red from embarrassment. ashamed that i am turned on by the masked man in my bedroom. he’d waste no time in ripping my panties off, shoving them into my mouth before he strips his lower half, leaving his thick, hard cock exposed. he’d crawl on top of me, pressing the knife to my throat again while his free hand grips his cock and shoved it inside me without warning. his pace would be rough and fast, his tip repeatedly nudging at that spot inside me that has my toes curling and my vision blurry. “such a good fucking whore, taking my fucking cock like the good little slut i know you are” my tear stained face and muffled cries only make him go harder, telling me “i fucking love the sound of you crying, the fucking tears rolling down your face are so goddamn sexy, keep it up baby.” dipping his head down, his mask covered face right by my ear he’d whisper, “gonna fill this pretty cunt up with my cum, you’re mine now, ‘m gonna keep coming back every night, just to see you cry f’me.”

oh god, i might need psychological help. sorry if this is too much but it’s been on my mind for hours.

#ghostface!rafe #rafe cameron smut #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Shouta Aizawa NSFW Profile

Yandere! Shouta Aizawa x fem! reader

Tw: mentions of dub-con, masturbation, stalking, kidnapping, voyeurism, toys, clothed sex, hair-pulling, this one is actually kind of soft and feels less yandere-y to me so sorry that this one is a little less creepy than normal, Shouta is a pleaser and lives for your praise, he gets off with a blanket you gifted him, very mild somnophilia, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 12K

HABITS

In general, Shouta isn’t that perpetually horny. He’s a busy man with constant stress weighing on his shoulders; working as a pro while being a full-time teacher leaves him drained during the few times he gets to relax, and it’s a lot of work to get himself hard, to get off, and to clean up afterwards.

It’s just not worth it to him – especially because it’s a bit sad to be left with just his fist and some low-grade, unrealistic porn as a man in his thirties, isn’t it?

He doesn’t have a partner, and hasn’t had one for quite some time – there was a girl a decade or so ago, but she didn’t last long, and the sex was subpar at best. And so, Shouta finds himself neglecting any sort of sexual activity most nights that he’s off work, not bothering to get himself all worked up and fuck away some of that pent up stress.

Except, then you show up.

His feelings for you form, and although it takes a long time for them to solidify, it takes an even longer time for them to turn lewd, any sort of sexual thought involving you not really taking root into he’s much further into his obsession.

This is for a few reasons – firstly, he just doesn’t have that high of a libido, and while seeing you naked when he’s watching from outside your window certainly gets him hot and bothered, he isn’t constantly fantasizing about bending you over and fucking you until you’re screaming his name.

(Not never, just not constantly – and at inopportune moments, sometimes. Moments where he really should be focused on the mountains of paperwork on his desk, not focused on how the desk is the perfect height for you to be standing on your tiptoes, ass poised out and your chest pressed against the hard wooden lacquer, your soft skin glistening in the dim light and your pretty thighs twitching and quivering as his fingers press deeper and deeper and deeper -)

Secondly, Shouta’s already feeling such crippling guilt regarding his infatuation with you that adding on overt sexual fantasies for you would push him too far. He already hates that he thinks of you constantly, that he’s always idly worrying about your safety, wanting to know your location and who you’re with and what you’re doing.

He already dislikes that he can’t stop himself from swinging by your apartment at the end of his patrols, making sure that you’re in your bed asleep, safe and sound and looking so fucking pretty in the moonlight. He doesn’t like how wrapped around your finger you have him, so how could he justify wringing himself dry to you, depraved fantasies running through his mind as he imagines the way you’d cream on his fingers, how you’d clench down on him so, so tightly when he fucks you just right?

Shouta can’t – it would breach too many protocols of trust, the friendship formed between the two of you precarious enough as it is with Shouta’s obsessive, disturbing feelings. He doesn’t think of you sexually, banishing every thought from his mind the moment it appears.

Or, at least, that’s what he wishes could be true – unfortunately, his hormones get the better of him sometimes, leaving him rolling around in his bed, cock painfully hard and his mind insistently flashing images of you changing behind his eyelids.

He’s embarrassed, more than anything, that he doesn’t have enough self control to successfully halt any lewd thoughts of you – it’s pathetic, really, because is he so desperate to touch you that he literally can’t stop himself?

Is he really so painfully, pitifully aroused by you that just the mere idea of you licking your lips or smiling at him can get him breathing hard, thankful for the bagginess of his pants?

He hates that the answer is yes, that his body is really that pent up and eager to get you under him, naked and soft and pretty, all for him and only him. It’s demoralizing, but Shouta only has so much restraint – he tries to hold out for as long as he can, really. He swears.

It’s torture at first, popping melatonin and chugging Nyquil, hoping he’ll be able to pass out and sleep off the horniness, but it never quite works. Instead, his dreams are full of you – on your knees, sucking him off so well that your cheeks are literally hollowing, drool spilling down your chin, a string of saliva and precum connecting your puffy lips to his swollen tip when you pull off for air.

He’ll dream of you on your hands and knees, peeking back at him with glassy eyes and biting your lip, clearly embarrassed as you ask him to touch me, please Shouta, I need you…

He always wakes up with soiled sheets, his entire pelvis sticky with now cold cum, and it becomes very, very difficult to look you in the eye that day, only able to conjure up the image of you all tied up in his scarf, your breasts perfectly framed and your thighs spread, slick covering them as you whine his name, desperate for him.

And though he tries to stave off, not letting himself actively fantasize about you sexually while he’s conscious, a particularly rough day of teaching and patrol have him giving up, throwing caution to the wind as he decides that he needs this, that a release is the only way he’ll be able to stay sane.

In the past, the few times he’s masturbated he’s always just fucked his fist, not needing anything too fancy. But for you, something about that feels disrespectful – it’s stupid and he knows it, but the idea of just thrusting into his hand over and over until he eventually spills all over his knuckles seems tacky, low-class, almost offensive to your image, like he’s tarnishing you and the way he idolizes you.

So, he relies on the next best thing he can scrounge up – you’d given him a blanket a few months ago, a birthday present that he’d tried desperately to cover his blush at receiving.

(Hizashi had pitched in, helping you decide which color and texture, having an expert’s opinion so that it would be perfect for the dark-haired man – a level of detail and attention to his desires that still, to this day, makes his heart flutter to think about. You cared, wanting him to be happy, and just that thought leaves his chest swelling with pride, his palms getting a bit clammy and his cheeks feeling too hot.)

He’s kept the blanket on his bed, using it every single night for the limited sleep he manages to get, making sure the material is always, always touching his body. It’s the only way he really feels close to you – the blanket was for him, sure, but you’d touched it, picked it out, held it in your arms while Shouta was dumbly gaping at you and struggling to utter out a strained thank you.

(If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can even smell you on the fabric – it’s not as good as if you were actually here with him, laying in his arms, touching him, but if he strains enough and pretends hard enough, there’s the faintest whiff of you.)

He’s gulping, throwing his uniform off and leaving it crumped up in the corner, before gently, daintily grabbing the edges of the neatly folded blanket (a stark contrast to the harsh pulling and tugging at his costume he’d thrown off moments earlier) and laying it out on the bed.

He lets out a shaky breath, gulping, before tying his hair back into a messy, low ponytail, excitement flitting through him because he’s really about to do it. He’s really about to touch himself to the thought of you, allowing himself to fully indulge in the fantasy that is you, the fantasy that is imagining the way you’d feel against his body, your lips against his own, your hands in his hair and your thighs around his waist.

He’s moving slow as he settles onto his knees on the bed, staring down at the blanket with furrowed brows. This isn’t quite right – the image of you laying before him, body nude and your legs clenched together in anticipation feels very, very right, but there’s something missing.

A thumb comes down to idly rub at the blanket, tracing small circles against the material as he wracks his brain. What’s missing? How can he make this feel like you, like it’s your body he’s touching, like it’s your perfect little cunt he’s fucking?

He’s not sure, but suddenly it hits him – your body, just as he’d been dreaming about.

The blanket doesn’t look enough like you – it’s two dimensional, flat and having no surface area to grip onto, nothing for him to fondle and touch and squeeze.

It needs to have more of your shape – quickly, methodically, he’s reaching down, grabbing handfuls of the blanket and bunching it up, forming a shape that vaguely resembles your torso. He’s careful to get the exact shape of your waist and hips, making sure to leave mounds of crumpled blanket to represent your breasts, even creating a little space between your thighs that represents something soft, something warm and wet and tight – your precious little pussy, something Shouta would literally kill to feel.

He gulps as he looks down at his work, the atmosphere suddenly seeming much thicker, heavier, hotter, because now, the solid colored blanket seems like you, at least having your body shape and your vague proportions. Aizawa lets his hand run down what would be your side, pausing right over your pretend hip.

Fuck, he mutters under his breath, before shifting forward slightly, letting his weight rest on his knees and one hand as he carefully guides his cock to the space between your crafted thighs.

He’d been careful to leave a fold in the fabric, a pouch of sorts – a place for him to push into, slowly spreading the two layers, trying to mimic the way your pretty lips would part for him, your walls sucking him and clenching him nice and tight, wanting to keep him inside and never let him pull out.

Shouta curses as he rubs his tip against the fabric, noting with a small, far-away sense of disdain that there’s precum smearing all along the fabric, certainly leaving a stain that he’ll have to scrub out later. His thumb comes up to gently swipe along where he imagines your cheek to be, even feeling phantom sensations of warmth, of softness, just as you’d be.

He leans down slowly, throat bobbing, before letting his eyes flutter closed, his lips pressing against the blanket – right where he imagines your own to be. The kiss is soft, gentle, heartfelt, his tongue flicking out to lick against the blanket material, groaning and wishing it was your own tongue meeting his, your own spit coating his lips.

As he gets closer, body inching further down until his chest pressed up against what’s supposed to be your breasts, he shuffles his hips forward, pushing past the fabric fold and into you. He groans, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against where he imagines yours to be, letting his eyes shut tight, nearly squeezing them closed as he slowly rocks his hips.

The friction of the blanket feels a bit strange, not how you’d feel, but it’s better than nothing – and it’s so, so very easy to imagine you instead; your warm, slick walls, the way you’d squeeze at him when he brushes up against your spot, the way your legs would wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles and pulling him in closer, begging him to go deeper. He sighs out, biting his lip and furrowing his brow, the pleasure slowly beginning to mount.

He imagines the way you’d moan his name – he bets you’d be airy, a soft sound that gets his hips stuttering ever so slightly because he knows the way his name would sound spilling from your lips would be heaven, the sultry Shouta upturned at the end as he fucks into you just the slightest bit faster.

His hips pick up their pace at the thought of you crying his name, back muscles flexing as he slowly gets faster and faster, the slow, sweet, intimate pace he’d set blown to dust in the wake of his thighs propelling him forward, hips flying and smacking into the blanket so quickly and harshly that the mattress is shaking, bedframe slightly pounding against the wall.

Shouta groans, low and deep, imagining the way you’d beg him to go faster Shouta please, please please please you feel s’good, wanna come for you! Memories of seeing you touch yourself flash behind his closed eyes, seeing the way your face screwed up in pleasure, how you gripped at your pillows and bucked your hips and trembled and arched your back and gasped and came –

Shouta’s chanting your name, his hips sinking into the fold of the blanket over and over, and quickly he’s bringing a thumb down to rub frantic, uneven circles where he imagines your clit to be, desperate to get you coming, wanting to time your orgasm with his.

Fuck, come for me baby, give it to me, god you’re s’damn tight fuuuck - !

His eyes fly open as spurts of warm, milky cum spray from his tip, getting all over the blanket and making his hips stutter and jerk, the sensation of coming in something leaving his arms feeling weak.

He’s panting, still saying your name under his breath, dark hair falling around his face as his thighs flex and clench, the last bits of cum dribbling from his tip and leaving him feeling spent. He can’t help but imagine the way you’d take him, if you’d thank him for giving him everything he has to offer, if you’d hold onto him until you both caught your breath, if your walls would still flutter and clench sporadically even after you’d come down from your high.

He closes his eyes again, heart practically in his throat as he leans down once more to kiss the blanket, tongue sneaking out and wet noises filling the room as spit and drool get slobbered all over the fabric.

He’s still out of breath, panting when he pulls back, but it’s not until he leans back onto his knees and takes a good look at the blanket that his high begins to fade, the reminder that you’re not really there making a sharp feeling dig into his gut.

He stares for a moment, before sighing, slowly pulling out of the blanket and grimacing when he feels cooling cum sliding across his cock, the white mess all over the material and smeared across his skin.

He brings a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes and sighing. What was he doing?

He’d just fucked a blanket – a gift, from you no less – while pretending it was you, his desperation to get you naked and in his grasp strong enough to make him lose him mind.

Pathetic, he was truly pathetic.

He’s ashamed as he throws the blanket into the laundry, hoping the cum stains will come out with all the bleach he’d thrown in alongside it, and as he chugs his coffee, deciding to get to school early and try to collect himself, Shouta can only sigh.

You make him such a fucking fool – a freak, perverted and creepy and gross, and as soon as he catches sight of you in the staff loungeroom, looking all pretty in your simple blouse and slacks, he knows he’s a lost cause, every bit of self-respect falling by the wayside.

 Because as soon as he looks at you, all he can think of is how you’d look underneath him, stuffed full of his cum and a dazed, fucked-out expression scrawled across your face. All he can think of is how you’d be absolutely perfect to sink his cock into – and as he darts off to the nearest restroom, desperately trying to get rid of the insistent, raging erection in his pants, he can only sigh, letting his head hang.

He really is a fucking creep.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS

Your thighs

Shouta isn’t one to sexualize women’s bodies. He’s a man with urges, sure, but he’s never had trouble separating sexual attraction from respect for his female friends, even for strangers in the streets. A body is a body, and they aren’t made to be stared at and ogled.

Except where you’re concerned, of course, because while Shouta tries his hardest to not sexualize every thought of you, it’s difficult to hold himself back when he’s so utterly attracted to every single part of you.

It’s hard to not fixate and stare and want when he looks at you, and so while he gives a valiant effort to not obsess over your figure in a less than innocent way, eventually he can’t help himself.

And Shouta discovers that while he loves every inch of you, there’s something about your thighs that drive him absolutely fucking crazy.

Maybe it’s their shape – pretty expanses of your skin that look perfect to grope and squeeze, the soft curves making him salivate in a way that feels almost predatory.

Maybe it’s the way they feel – your skin is so soft, especially if he moves his hands further up, between them, nearing somewhere warm and wet and throbbing.

Maybe it’s the way they feel when they’re around his waist, caging him in and keeping him right where he wants to be, and when they’re around his head?

(Don’t mention the instances where he’s orgasmed just from simply eating you out – it’s embarrassing, and while he won’t deny it, he will change the conversation and pray you don’t see the soft, barely-there pink blooming on his cheeks.)

Maybe it’s even the way you respond when he touches them – how you jump a little bit, his calloused hands feeling a bit cold as they skim along the sides, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs, a comforting finger brushing along the juncture of your legs and pelvic bone.

He’s not entirely sure, but one thing he does know is that just seeing your bare thighs is enough to get him gulping, his dark gaze struggling to move away as he watches the area jiggle and flex while you walk, every step you take only making him want you more and more.

Even before he’s stolen you away, he’s fantasizing about your thighs – he’s bought more pairs of stockings and thigh-highs than he’d care to admit, keeping them neatly organized in a specific drawer in his closet, often fingering the material and biting his lip.

(The image of you wearing them makes him drool, the idea of the top hem squeezing your thigh and making a little bulge appear right above the socks getting his hand wandering down his torso, his fingers making quick word of his belt buckle because fuuuck, would you keep them on while he throws your legs over his shoulders and absolutely destroys you?)

He’s always taking extra time and care to properly worship them when he’s got his head between your legs, letting his lips and tongue trail all along the soft skin, leaving teasing bite marks and hickeys and feeling the way you tremble under his touch because he’s so close yet so far from where you need him.

He’s always got a hand on your thighs when he’s fucking you, his fingers clutching and digging into the skin while he shuts his eyes tight and wills himself to last longer, to prolong the moment, to give you more more more, just like you deserve.

He just really, really likes your thighs, so don’t be surprised when he’s got his hand casually placed on one when you’re watching a movie together, his gaze purposefully not looking at you because you can’t see how flustered he is from touching your clothed thigh in a non-sexual context.

You can’t.

His hands

In general, Shouta lives to please you in bed. He’s by no means submissive (though he could be persuaded if you really, really wanted to be in charge for a night), but he’s a caring partner in every possible sense of the word – sex is about you, and any pleasure he gets from it is just a fun bonus.

And because of this, he takes every opportunity to learn new ways to please you, trying everything from teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, buying a collection of vibrators, even letting you grind against the expanse of his thigh.

But his favorite method by far is using his fingers on you. They’re thick, with scars and callouses dotting the rough skin, but they’re so gentle with you, always touching you like you’re something fragile and delicate and breakable. He's careful with you when he’s rubbing circles over your clit, the pressure consistent enough to feel good but not too hard, sometimes even teasing you. He’s gentle when he’s running his fingertips over your folds, occasionally dipping in just a hair to feel the warm wetness he wants so very badly to sink into.

(He often sucks in a short, nearly inaudible gasp when he does this, his Adam’s apple bobbing because god you’re wet, and he’ll pull back to lick off his fingers, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tastes you.)

He particularly enjoys fingering you – he’s dexterous, and he always goes slow and purposefully, learning quickly exactly where you like to be touched. He’ll angle the pads of his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl, his lip caught between his teeth as he watches your face twist up, hearing your pretty sighs and moans, feeling the way you clench around him, your hips twitching a bit as if to get him deeper, to get more of him. He keeps his pace sensual, the come-hither motion slow and controlled, all the while keeping his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, drawing shapes that stay just consistent enough to get you closer and closer.

All the while, the other hand is gently working at your clit, his fingers expertly getting the exact pressure and pattern you like, making your thighs twitch and your little gasps and mewls louder and more insistent.

And when he’s not actively working between your legs, Shouta’s always got his fingers pleasuring you in other ways – gently kneading at your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between a thumb and index finger, groping and squeezing at you like a man starved as his tongue flicks and sucks at your clit.

They’re grasping a handful of your thigh and squeezing reassuringly as he’s fucking you, his pace slow and deep, making sure you feel every possible inch of him as he folds you in half.

He’s even slipping a thumb against your tongue when you take a break to breath, your chest heaving and your fingers wrapped around his girth, a groan slipping from his lips because god, the sight of his precum dribbling down your chin is enough to get his cock twitching on its own. He’ll press down on your tongue, his lip caught between his teeth as you stare up at him, the sight indescribably erotic, a few praises falling from his mouth about how good you look, how pretty you are, how well you take care of him.

(All the while, he’s feeling you suck on his thumb, eagerly running your tongue along the skin and even swallowing around it to give the extra suction. Shouta curses under his breath, and suddenly stands, grabbing you by the hips and forcing you to bend over the chair he’d previously been sitting on, roughly spreading your legs and immediately diving in to lick and suck against your clit, a finger slipping inside of you because he just can’t not touch you after watching you drool all over him.)

He just likes to make you feel good, and while he enjoys pleasuring you with his mouth, nothing can beat the way you moan and shake when he’s working his fingers on you, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re incoherent, your poor body trembling, the only thing you can think of him him him.

DRIVE

Though you inspire more sexual desire and drive within him than he’s experienced for the last twenty years, Shouta is still not absolutely desperate to fuck you at all times.

Sure, the idea is nice – being intimate with you is something he craves, but nine times out of ten this intimacy takes the form of simply holding you. Sitting beside you with your head resting on his shoulder, a blanket covering the both of your bodies as you snore softly and cling to him in your sleep, showing that you feel safe with him, that you trust him to protect you.

(Shouta is normally able to keep his staring in check and not be too terribly overt with it, but in times like these he allows himself to openly gape at you, those dark eyes of his examining every detail of your face. Every small wrinkle, every hair and mole, even every lash and baby hair that frames your cheeks. You’re just too damn pretty, and like this he can commit every last detail to memory – as if he hadn’t already, as if he doesn’t sleep at night with your face dancing through his dreams, as if he sees flashes of you in everything he does. As if he isn’t thinking of you as unconsciously as he breaths.)

He generally imagines sleeping with you (and genuinely just sleeping – curling up with you in his arms and his face buried next to your neck, the scent of your body and shampoo filling his senses and making him breathe out something that walks the fine line between a sigh and a moan), the peacefulness and tranquility of just having you close to him in the safety of his protection and home.

It’s a type of intimacy that gets Shouta red in the face, the idea so domestic and taboo and foreign that he comes to crave this on a near constant basis, serving as motivation and a way to calm himself when his students are out of control or a villain is being particularly difficult.

But of course, Shouta is only a man, and men have needs – no matter how he tries to keep his obsession with you as innocent as it possibly can be, sexual thoughts trickle in through the cracks of his mental fortitude and leave him with a phantom wonder of how you’d taste – would you be sweet, like the jellies Hizashi had gotten him? Would you be rich and savory? He hopes you’d have a strong musk to you, a smell that he can breathe in and think of you, something that gets his salivating and his body growing hot and his fingers restless and his breath heavy and labored and god –

He’s hard before he knows it, immediately covering his face with his hands because it’s equal parts embarrassing and terrifying how easily you manage to affect him, just the simple thought of you getting his entire body on edge.

And so he eventually takes up masturbation with you in mind, feeling dirty and disgusting each time he recovers from his orgasmic high, making it more and more difficult to look you in the eye without thinking of all the depraved things he’d imagined doing with you mere hours before.

But Shouta thinks he can survive – sure, he wants to fuck you, needs to kiss you, has to see the face you make when you’re coming, but he can control himself. He won’t succumb to the urge to break into your (frustratingly poorly protected) apartment to run his fingers along your pretty skin and fuck his fist mere inches from your face, no matter how badly his body yells and begs him to. He won’t cross this boundary – it’s hypocritical to think of himself not as a pervert at this point, but it’s the only way he confidently resists you.

Except, then you go and force him into kidnapping you – and now you’re with him nearly all moments of the day, your scent in his bedroom (though he knows you never willingly enter there, and he doesn’t force you to), your body always just a heartbeat away, the idea of holding you and kissing much, much closer now.

And even with the constant temptation, Shouta manages to hold out – it’s torture, really, forcing himself to be a good man and giving you privacy, to not touch you, to not press himself against you and feel the contours of your body against his own, but it’s worth it to him. He can’t force anything – he doesn’t want to scare you, and he has this horrible, sneaking suspicion that if he propositioned you, you’d feel too afraid to say no.

And just the thought is enough motivation to keep him from touching you, to keep him celibate from you purely by his choice – even if it starts affecting him physically.

(He’d never, ever admit it to you, but his lust for you becomes so extreme that if he’s gone more than a week or so without having touched himself to the thought of you while you’re under his care, his cock starts physically hurting when he sees you, his hips involuntarily twitching when he hears your voice, his throat feeling dry and his cheeks blooming bright red because god, he’s never wanted to fuck something so bad.)

And so, Shouta forces himself to be an outstanding man – but no one can be alert every moment of every day, and it’s only a matter of time before you catch him in a moment of weakness. Because really, while Shouta was suffering, you were certainly undergoing a struggle of your own – you’ve been stuck with him for a few months at this point, trapped in his modest apartment with everything you could ever need with one glaring, important exception: human touch.

You don’t necessarily want to be physical with your kidnapper, but as the days pass and you slowly come to accept the fact that you won’t be escaping Eraserhead, things start changing. You’re still understandably frightened of him, worried that although he’s not harmed you in any way and hasn’t forced you into much aside from your captivity, he’ll show his true colors and make your life even more of a living hell.

But that doesn’t happen, Shouta staying that familiar presence you’ve become accustomed to; steady, quiet, consistent. Except the more days that pass, the more you start noticing other things about him – he’s strong, isn’t he? You see it when he walks from the bathroom to his bedroom with the towel tightly fastened at his waist, showing off the lean muscle of his arms and torso.

(He can feel your eyes sometimes, but tries not to dwell on what your staring at his naked chest could mean because getting his hopes up means getting them inevitably crushed.)

He’s awfully attentive, isn’t he? He listens when you speak, those dark eyes boring into you and your every wish – aside from escape – granted without so much as a complaint.

And sometimes, he’s a little attractive, isn’t he? In a rugged, man-ish way – a way that makes you gulp and press your thighs together a bit, because something about the stubble that coats his chin and the veins that litter his hands and forearms makes it difficult to breath correctly.

And then the daydreams start – little thoughts about how it would feel for those hands to touch you, for those lips to brush against your own, for his hair to tickle your neck as he hovers over you, his hips moving slowly and rhythmically against you, gruff grunts of your name filling the air between you.

They scare you at first, really, but soon you can’t stop yourself – you know it’s the lack of human contact that’s influencing you, but as time passes and you grow more desperate to know if he’s as attentive in bed as he is everywhere else, you’ll stop caring.

And Shouta can sense that something’s changing – he feels you watching him, notices the way your eyes follow him through a room, how you suck in the sharpest, smallest breath when he nears you, how you grow stiff when he has to flex a muscle in front of you to lift something heavy. Shouta knows that something is different – but it’s not until you grow brave one day that everything is confirmed.

It’d been a long, tiresome day for Shouta – his class had been especially rowdy today, with a simulation villain attack that the teachers participated in, and of course he’d ended up assigned to spar with Todoroki – meaning he’d been moving about, his muscles tired and sore from multiple hours of repetitive fighting. Then he’d had an extra patrol directly after, the villains particularly restless and causing more trouble than normal. Coupled with a nasty rainstorm that had him half freezing to death, Shouta wanted nothing more than to melt into bed, ideally with you beside him but knowing better than to wish for foolish things.

And when he’d stepped in the front door, you’d been waiting for him, sitting nervously on the couch. You’d stood up, but Shouta – despite feeling slightly more awake and alive at the sight of you, like normal – was still exhausted, already on the brink of unconsciousness as he gruffly greeted you. You looked nervous, twiddling your thumbs and biting your lip, but Shouta was too tired to properly ask about it, only mentally noting to check on you tomorrow.

Slumping towards his bedroom, he was abruptly stopped with you grabbed his hand, his entire body going rigid. Your voice was quiet when you asked him why he always seems to avoid touching you, asking if he didn’t want to, if he was repulsed by the idea of touching, if he was repulsed by you.

And Shouta, still half delirious with exhaustion, let the truth slip from his lips before he could help himself – explaining just how badly he craves to feel you, imagining you in every lewd position he can think of, noticing the way your pajama shirts sometimes grow tight when you sleep and roll over, exposing the outline of your breast and nipple and making him physically stop in his tracks and nearly drool like some horny teenager.

Every secret was spilling out of him, his voice still tired and coarse but making your jaw drop, the admission that he’s been fantasizing about making you a mess on his fingers and tongue and cock stunning you. You’d known Shouta harbored some sort of feelings for you, but this?

When he finishes detailing the fact that he regularly fucks his fist to the thought of you at least twice a week after you’ve fallen asleep, you release his hand, immediately missing the warmth of his skin.

Shouta rubs at his eyes, still not facing you, but muttering a small goodnight and retreating to his room, only realizing what’s happened the next morning. His hands shake and he bolts from his bed, his eyes wide and his heart racing, something horrible and feeling like shame and dread sitting in his chest because why the fuck had he told you that?

Facing you the next day has anxiety sitting in his every nerve, his actions jerky and on-edge, an he’d nearly bolted back to the safety of his room when he sawy you sitting at the kitchen table, but then you’d done something unexpected – you’d walked up to him, stood in silence for a moment, then grabbed his hand. Shouta had been confused, unable to ignore the way your hand fit into his own and the softness of your skin against his, but you’d not given him a chance to even ask questions – soon your lips were on his, and your hand had placed his on something warm and soft and squishy –

Shouta gasped against your lips, the feeling of your breast in his hand and your tongue swiping at his lips nearly making his knees buckle. He didn’t respond to your kiss for a few moments, forcing you to pull back and stare at him, something like worry and rejection reflected in your eyes, but it’s not until you whisper in a very small voice that he snaps out of his stupor.

I want you Shouta, and I know you want me.

You were in his bed moments later, his hands frantic and eager and shaking as he practically ripped off your borrowed pajamas, fingers moving fast and settling over every part of your body, seemingly unable to decide on where to stay.

It was rushed, desperation clouding both of your senses, but as Shouta threw your leg over his shoulder and pressed wet kisses against the juncture of your shoulder and neck, his whispered affirmations of his love for you only had you pulling him closer, adoration and shock and something so happy it nearly hurt filling his chest.

Perhaps, just perhaps, something in you loved him as he loved you.  

MAIN THREE KINKS

Clothed Sex

It’s about convenience for Shouta – he’s not lazy in the bedroom, but although he finds you irresistible and is normally willing to expend what very little energy he has on sex with you, he’s willing to take any shortcut he can.

Of course, sex with you in an ideal world sees the both of you completely nude, your bodies pressed as close together as physically possible so that not a breath of space lays between them. He likes being close to you, feeling every inch of you, the intimacy of it unmatched and making Shouta revel in the fact that you’re really there with him, that he’s really getting to touch you, that he’s really getting to kiss you and touch you and fuck you, just as he’s been fantasizing of for months.

But that said, there’s a strange allure to clothed sex – it’s taboo and a little dirty, something that makes him feel a little warm, his palms growing a bit sweaty because it could happen at any time. Whenever the mood strikes him or strikes you, he could simply unzip his pants, shuffle them down a bit and fish out his cock, and he'd be ready to go – already half-hard, the eager anticipation of your touch exciting him from nearly the moment you entered the room.

And it’s easy access to you, too – not that he’d ever take advantage of that fact, your consent still something he asks for every time he touches you. It’s easy to slip your panties to the side, sinking you down onto his lap as he groans and his head lolls back, the feeling of your warmth making his toes curl. He just likes how easy it all is – no time is wasted with struggling to get off your shirt or his pants, and the desperation to be inside you that always seems to overwhelm him at the most inconvenient of times can be attended to that much faster.

He just thinks there’s something so hot about it – he’ll specifically stock you with clothing to wear that makes this easy – flouncy skirts and shorts that make shoving everything to the side and bunching his fist into the cloth to get better leverage while he pounds into you.

He’ll get you tank tops and things that make fishing your breasts out of your top easy, so that they can freely hang and jiggle as he bounces you up and down on his lap, your nipples hardening and shivers racing down your spine as he flicks his tongue at one.

He’ll buy underwear that doesn’t chafe when he shoves it to the side, the pretty sight of lace against your skin making him feral, making him fuck into you harder and more frantically because you almost look like some sort of lewd present when you’re wearing that lingerie – like his very own present, the one thing in the world he wants more than anything else.

And he’ll wear clothing that makes this easy, too – pants that can be unzipped and boxers he can tuck underneath his balls, making sure that nothing gets in the way. And although having sex without clothes is much more common than with clothes, Shouta will surprise you and suddenly press up behind you in the kitchen, telling you that you look too good, that he can’t help himself, that he needs you, and has to fuck you right here, right now, I can’t wait.

And so when you nod, he’ll flip up that skirt of yours – the main culprit for the throbbing between his legs, of course, because the clear view of your legs and thighs makes his mouth water – and slip aside those panties, his cock already out and hard and dripping for you.

It’s spontaneous, more than anything, and it’s one of the only ways in which Shouta is a little carefree with sex – one of the only times that he isn’t serious, or at least as serious.

The main way Shouta likes to engage in clothed sex, though, is through cockwarming. He just likes being close to you – he’s touch-starved, and although he doesn’t have the energy to actually fuck you, he still wants to be inside you, to have your body against his, to have you near and be smelling your scent and hearing your voice.

And so, it’s not a rare occurrence to have him pull you into his arms on his modest leather couch, your frumpy sweatpants and t-shirt (both his, of course, a fact that isn’t lost on him – he will not be washing either of those items when they eventually are off your body) covering your form and his own loungewear covering his.

He’ll shuffle up behind you, pulling you against him so that he’s spooning you, and before long you’ll feel something poking at your ass – something hard and insistent, something that seems to be bobbing and moving every few moments.

Truthfully, Shouta couldn’t say what got him hard – perhaps it was just being with you, or maybe smelling you, or the sight of you in his clothes. It could be any number of things – but his breath hitches as you swallow and carefully tug down the hem of your sweatpants, pressing your exposed ass back against him.

He makes a sound like a low whistle, and then he’s fishing his cock out of his own pants, the tip already wet with precum as he shifts his hips to slip between your legs, propping your leg up over his so that he can push inside. He does so with a small groan, resting his forehead against your back, and he feels you clench down on him.

He’s content to lay there – the warmth of his clothing and from you almost too much, but seeing the way you snuggle deeper into the shirt sending something warm and hot and possessive through his chest. He’ll just pull you against him tighter, the slight shift making the both of you hiss at the small burst of pleasure. He’s content to fall asleep that way – relaxed, his cock still nestled inside of you and hard as a rock, the feeling of your cunt lulling him into dreams filled with you naked and moaning his name, all bouncing breasts and desperate hands and begs for more.

(Don’t be surprised, when this happens, to wake up feeling something dripping out of you – yes, it’s cum and yes, that wet dream was enough to get him there. Don’t mention it, either, because Shouta’s always disappointed that he wasn’t awake for it - after all, call him old-fashioned but finishing inside of you is arguably his favorite selfish part of sex.)

Overstimulation

Shouta is not a stingy lover. In the bedroom, he lives to see you enjoying yourself – it soothes this primal, horrible ache in his chest that yearns or your approval and happiness. A lot of his obsession is born out of a desire to please you and keep you happy and safe, and this translates into making absolutely sure you’re satisfied in every possible way between the sheets.

Sex isn’t really sex until you’ve had at least two orgasms, whether that be because of his fingers or tongue, and only then will he throw your pretty legs up over his shoulders, sinking into you with a sharp exhale and letting his face rest against your sternum as he wills himself to not get too excited, to keep his cool and not rut into you like wild animal. He wants you to enjoy sex with him – he craves intimacy with you and he needs you to crave it too, and he’s hopeful that by giving you the best attention and care in bed, you’ll be more inclined to kiss and hold him, to touch him and whisper those three little words in his ear.

(The three little words that make him gasp and shudder, cum immediately spurting out of his red, swollen tip, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto your thigh and the bedsheets tightly enough to keep himself grounded through the pleasure.)

And so, Shouta finds that there’s something darkly pleasing about being the one to get you orgasming, being the source of your pleasure – seeing your face twist up, your mouth forming that pretty ‘o’ and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Shouta develops a bit of a sick fascination with seeing just how often he can make you come for him, and from what. It stems from a good place; a genuine desire to make you happy and get you shaking with pleasure and incoherent enough that all you can say is his name.

 He likes to choose how you come – will it be his fingers? Will he draw pretty circles on the inside of your thighs, teasing you and feeling the way your breathing picks up a bit, a whine of his name telling him that you’re growing impatient, that you need more, that you need him?

He’ll get closer and closer to your folds, pressing a thumb against them and dipping in ever so slightly, the dull pleasure making you bite your lip, embarrassment eating you alive because it feels so dirty to be teased like this, to keep your legs so wide open for him, to feel the way his eyes are staring at you so fully and intensely, the adoration and lust swimming in those dark depths nearly too much for you handle.

He’ll press two fingers against your clit and get to work, rubbing with light pressure and slowly increasing it, feeling the way the nub gets harder and more swollen, fingers swiping down to collect a bit of your slick to make things easier, the pads of his fingers gliding along your sensitive skin and making your hips jump and twist.

He’ll use his other hand to finger you, rough calloused skin dragging against your walls and pressing right into the spot he knows you love – the one that makes your back arch up, your head pushing back against the pillow, your nails digging into the bedsheets and tangling through his hair. Working you through an orgasm with his fingers is his favorite and what you’ll most likely get – he gets a front row seat, watching with rapt attention as you fall apart for him, feeling the way your thighs tremble and close in around him when you’re right on the edge.

There’s this feeling of power, pride and desire making him light headed and only work harder at his ministrations, ignoring your yelps and gasps of overstimulation because he needs to see that again, to feel the way you clench down onto his fingers so tightly that he has to work to pull them out to thrust back in. You’re just so damn sexy, the sight of you laying before him with your pretty legs spread wide open making him swallow so hard you can hear it.

But of course, Shouta also loves using his mouth to get you off – pink lips attaching to your nipple, sucking and running his tongue over your areola to make you squirm, your little keens making his cock twitch against your thigh.

He’ll kiss at your hips, making a trail down to your clit, giving you little kitten licks while his eyes flick up to look at you, seeing the way you sigh and bite your lip, the rising and falling of your chest making him near feral.  

He wants to see you moan and writhe, to feel you grasping at him and needing him, and so his patience wears out and he dives between your legs, slick coating his nose and chin as he licks and sucks and thrusts his tongue against you, eyes closed in concentration and hair getting in his face but he doesn’t care – how can he, when you sound so pretty moaning his name like that?

How can he, when your thighs are clenching around his head and you’re just so fucking wet for him, showing him exactly how much he’s affecting you?

It's euphoric, and soon you’ll be crying out his name and creaming all over his lips, shaking in his grasp so hard that he has to hold you down by the hips to help you ride out the pleasure, the taste of you making him so hard that it hurts.

And god, there’s something about the way you respond to voice and his commands in bed that makes Shouta curse under his breath. You look up at him all wide-eyed, pleasure written across your face as you look to him for guidance, his voice gruff and thick with lust as he tells you to let go, come for me, want to see you come for me.

You immediately furrow your brows and bite your lip, grinding yourself harder against his fingers, feeling the pads of them brush against the spot that has you seeing stars, his name a prayer as you chant it over and over, only stopping to moan or gasp.

The sight is intoxicating, leaving Shouta gaping like a fish with parted lips and heavy breaths, staring at you like you’re something heavenly, divine, unable to tear his gaze away because he still can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re moaning his name, that you’re letting him touch you and oh, he knows what that change in your facial expression means, how you’re blinding grasping at him, how you’re stuttering out a rushed ‘m coming, Shouta ‘m coming fuck-!

Watching you come undone right before his eyes has Shouta’s cock throbbing, his hips subtly moving against your thigh because he needs friction, the sight of you and the knowledge that he made you this way nearly too much for him to bear.

And when you finally calm down, your breathing wild and your eyes a little glazed over, he’ll just swallow and quickly situate him hips between your legs, gripping himself at the base and impatiently prodding at your entrance, his words dark as he tells you that you’ve got another one in you, give it to me.

When he pushes in – slowly, so as not to hurt you – he lets out a groan, only muffled by the way he leans down to kiss you, feeling the way you tense up and eagerly return the gesture, wrapping your ankles around his waist and pulling him deeper, showing him that you need more more more if you’re going to finish like he wants you to.

And Shouta’s happy to oblige – snapping his hips into you until his muscles are sore and screaming, a thumb relentlessly toying with your clit, his lips against your neck and whispering praise tainted with curses.

He’s encouraging you to feel good, telling you to tell me how it – fuck, how it feels, you’re so goddamn tight, tell me how to fuck you – o-oh…

Because really, while he loves to get you coming and falling apart on his terms, Shouta’s pride flies out the window where you’re concerned – he’d do anything to get you clenching down on him and begging him to finish inside you.

Anything.

Voyeurism

Honestly, it’s a byproduct of having stalked you for such an extended period of time. Watching you was the only way to feel close to you – he wasn’t able to hold you and kiss you, to feel you and lay with you and make you whine his name, and becoming your shadow was the only possible substitution.

And even then, it wasn’t enough – all the guilt he harbors from watching you in your more intimate moments never fades, not even after years of having stolen you away, your pretty body and mind fully his to do as he pleases. He’s still ashamed, but some things he just simply can’t unlearn – and so, even once your sexual relationship begins, Shouta finds himself still utterly excited by the prospect of watching you pleasure yourself.

It’s dirty, horrible, something that makes him feel so guilty he can hardly stand it, but he can’t not stop and watch through the crack in your door when he hears what sounds suspiciously close to muffled whimpers.

He can’t not press his ear against the wooden door, closing his eyes and imagining what you’re doing to yourself – maybe you’re playing with that cute little clit, rubbing it in circles and biting your lip because it just feels so damn good, mimicking the way that Shouta works you up slowly and steadily, getting you so sensitive that your hips jump and twitch at just the slightest bit of pressure against your sensitive nerves.

(He’s had dreams about the way you taste – he thinks you’d be musky, something natural and strong and savory, a taste he wants in his mouth at all hours of the day. And the way you’d tremble and gush for him if it was his fingers and mouth toying with the nub, how you’d tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer and closer to you, needing as much of him as possible, needing him him him…)

Maybe you’re sinking your fingers inside of you, working up from one to three, stretching yourself out and imagining it’s him instead, that he’s the one filling you up and making your toes curl, that he’s the one causing all those pretty noises to fall from your lips.

(He knows just how much bigger his own fingers are – he’ll imagine the size difference, his eyes shutting tight when he thinks of how much more he can stretch you out, how much better he can make you feel, how the texture of his fingers must send pleasure up your spine in a way that your soft, comparatively dainty fingers can’t.)

Maybe you’re perched up on a pillow, straddling it with your cunt pressed snugly against the fabric, slick smearing across the cotton as you grind your hips back and forth, hunched over so that the angle is just right, imagining it’s him underneath you and it’s his thigh or cock you’re rubbing against.

(He’s had wet dreams about this sight, always hoping and fantasizing that you’re just so desperate for him that you’re imagining it’s his face you’re riding, his mind conjuring up the sound of your voice moaning out his name and telling him yes yes o-oh fuck yes, Shouta ‘s so good, you feel so good! He’d never seen you riding a pillow during all those months of stalking, but the idea’s just too graphic and wanton and lewd for him to not fantasize about, the idea satisfying the part of him that’s embarrassed and ashamed of just how badly he craves you – because surely if you’re humping some piece of cotton and pretending it’s him, then what does he have to be embarrassed about? Lots, really, but it makes him feel slightly better.)

Or maybe you’ve decided that you want something a little more physical, something to really mimic him – he’d seen you using your vibrator many, many times before he stole you away. His face always turned pink at the sight, his throat going dry and his grip on his capture weapon a little loose as he simply stared, the sight of your pretty body contorting and the plastic held against the crest of your pelvic bone making everything else fade away.

You’re so damn pretty – the way you moan and sigh, how your legs twitch, how your breasts sway and jiggle with every motion, making his fingers ache to reach out and squeeze, to knead and touch and grope, like some sort of pervert.

And this fantasy and mental image has stayed with him long after kidnapping you – once your physical relationship begins and Shouta no longer feels it would make you even more uncomfortable and scared of him, he’s buying you a replacement for that trusty vibrator you used to use to death. He’d left it on your nightstand one morning with a hasty note simply saying I’m gone a lot, I don’t want you to get lonely.

Of course, this is only half the truth – he does want you to be happy, and he doesn’t want you to grow resentful of the times when he’s too exhausted to give you proper sex. But of course, the unspoken portion of this gift is that he wants to watch you use said vibrator – and badly.

He wants to sit in a chair at the side of the bed, legs spread wide as he grips the base of his cock, absentmindedly squeezing at his balls while his dark eyes stay trained on your figure. He wants you to be spread out for him, perhaps a skimpy set of lingerie covering your pretty body (or perhaps none at all, if you’re comfortable with it) with your legs spread wide, the vibrator in your hand hovering against your clit. He wants to hear the steady, dull buzzing sound mixing with your whimpers, to see the way your body tenses up and you whine, feet flexing and shaky breaths slipping past your lips as you slowly work towards your high.

He wants to see the way you eventually grow impatient, changing the vibrator’s setting and immediately crying out, the feeling much more intense and making your orgasm hurtle towards you, getting slick all over the bedspread as you cry out his name and writhe.

And Shouta doesn’t want you to look at him – he doesn’t want you to acknowledge that he’s there. Ignore him, just as you would have back when he was simply watching from outside your window – he wants to watch you, not have a show be put on for him.

You’re just too pretty, and there’s something about watching you that gets him hard as rock, his fist twisting and flicking so quickly it’s nearly a blur as he watches you transition to fucking yourself with the toy, your cries loud and wanton as Shouta grunts and curses under his breath. He wants to finish with you this time, his hips thrusting against his hand in an effort to match the pace you’ve set for yourself. It’s a dirty secret of his, and while Shouta won’t force you into it, just know that he would love to catch you masturbating – just the sight of you pleasuring yourself is enough to get him hot under the collar immediately, hand rushing into his trousers to cup himself because god.

He just likes to watch you, and even during regular sex when he’s folded you in half, those eyes are alternating between watching your face, your bouncing breasts, and your cunt swallowing his cock again and again and again, his cheeks a rosy pink and a bead of sweat dripping from his brow.

You’re just too pretty, he can’t take it – how can he not immediately want to get something of his on you, staining your lovely skin and gorgeous face with his cum?

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE

Hair Pulling

But not on you – unless you like it, in which case he might consider but will only ever do it lightly. He doesn’t like causing pain in general, and would only be willing to do it in very specific scenarios – and even then, it will be as gently as he possibly can.

Rather, Shouta likes when you pull his hair – he doesn’t let most people touch it, and it’s a rare day that he actually runs a comb through it, so as a result his scalp is extremely sensitive. And so, when you tunnel your fingers through his dark locks and pull, Shouta audibly groans, the tingling pain sending pleasure racing down his spine.

There’s just something naughty about it – only you get to touch him like this, so only you get to run your fingers through his hair and tug at it.

He particularly likes when you pull it while he’s got his face between your legs. He likes how your fingers tunnel through it and scrape against his scalp, and he’ll often use it as an indicator of whether he’s doing a good job or not. If you pull often and hard, he knows he’s doing what he needs to do – he’ll keep the pace up and stay in that same spot, doing everything and anything in his power to keep you pulling at it, working through any pain in his jaw or tongue because he needs to make sure you’re feeling good even at his own expense.

When he’s got you perched on his face, your pretty thighs framing his head so that all he can smell and taste and feel is you, he likes to have you reach down and still pull lightly at the roots, your breasts squished together and nipples taut, the visual alongside your taste and the slight pain from his scalp making his eyes roll to the back of his head and precum dribble down his length.

When he’s hovering over you and thrusting into you, balls clapping against your ass and your legs wrapped around his waist, he likes to have you tug at his hair, moaning out and crying his name with each tug and letting his ego swell, each burst of light pain making his hips go harder, faster, deeper, anything to get you louder and clenching around him tighter.

Even when you’re just kissing – simple, innocent kisses full of smiles and his hands gripping you just ever so slightly, Shouta likes to have you running your hands through his hair and tugging lightly, keeping him on his toes and forcing his cock to life.

He just really, really likes to have you touch his hair – it’s something intimate and something he’ll only ever let you do, so really, you should count yourself lucky. Shouta sure does when he’s buried deep inside you, watching your face and feeling your hands in his hair as he gives you every last drop he has to offer.

Mirror Sex

In general, Shouta absolutely loves watching you in bed. He thinks you’re genuinely the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and when you’re gasping on his cock and moaning his name, you’re even prettier, even more breathtaking and lovely and perfect.

And while he prefers positions where he can see your face, he wants to be able to see your expressions always, even if he’s got you bent over while he presses his back to your chest and mounts you like some sort of wild animal.

And so, to solve this problem, Shouta invests in a modest, simple mirror that he keeps facing the end of your ‘shared’ bed – it’s roughly four feet tall and two feet wide, the perfect size so that when he’s got you on your hands and knees for him, your back arching and your arms threatening to give out, he can watch your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He’ll experiment with the pacing of his thrusts, going deeper and harder to see the way your brows scrunch up, how your jaw drops and the most depraved whine slips out of you, pride and arousal swelling in his chest because he made you make that noise.

He’ll go slower and keep his thrusts brushing against the spots that make you gasp just so that he can see the way your lips twitch.

He’ll speed up, fucking into you so fast that his balls slap lewdly against your ass, the noise filling the room alongside your pants and his groans, watching all the while how your eyes flutter and your back arches. He’ll sit you in his lap facing the mirror, spreading your legs and getting to work with his fingers curling and rubbing inside of you, a thumb circling your clit and his lips at your ear as he tells you to watch, pretty, see how good you look?

He’ll kiss a line from behind your ear, down your neck and over your shoulder, occasionally glancing up to the mirror to make sure you’re actively looking, whispering praises against your skin each time.

And he’ll bring you close to the mirror, too – sitting you only a foot away from the reflective surface, letting you get a nice view of Shouta’s favorite sight – your cunt, all spread out and wet, practically begging for something big, heavy, and throbbing to fill it, to stretch it out and make you see stars.

He’ll spread your lips, exposing your clenching hole, smiling at your reflection and making you tell him that you’re pretty, forcing you to grow comfortable with your body because he knows that it makes you insecure to see so much of yourself, and it drives him crazy.

He’ll even fuck you against the mirror – forcing you to watch your face from mere inches away, your hot breaths fogging up the glass, and he’ll make you come like that – holding your chin straight ahead and telling you to watch, sh-shit, watch, don’t take those fucking eyes off your face in a strained voice.

He just likes getting a good view of you during sex – you’re too pretty not to be seen, after all.  

BIGGEST FANTASY

In general, Shouta absolutely loves being intimate with you. While he’s no virgin, he doesn’t have an extensive amount of experience, and frankly he’s never been the biggest fan of sex – it’s too messy, too energy draining, and just a massive hassle.

However, when it’s with you, and when you moan his name just right and leave your nail marks down his back, Shouta will gladly strip his clothing at your beck and call, his lips already on yours before you can even finish your sentence.

And while he loves good, rough, passionate sex that’s full of smacking hips, gasps, moans and growls, there’s something to be said for slower, gentler sex, the kind that’s full of airy breaths and slow, meaningful kisses.

It’s the kind of sex where you can really feel him; every inch of him, the way his body covers yours as he hovers over you, the tickle of his hair against your jaw and neck as he buries his face in the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone, his hips rocking into yours and managing to grind against that one perfect spot that gets you sighing out a moan. It’s just more intimate this way, less of a wild, frantic race to get inside of you and more a slow, controlled love making, as embarrassed as he is to use to term.

Regardless, you’re most likely to get this type of sex from Shouta in two specific scenarios – the first of which being after a very long day, filled with a harrowing patrol where he maybe wasn’t able to save everyone, or things didn’t go according to plan. When this happens, he needs to just hold you, to feel you, to hear you whisper his name under your breath and tell him how good he feels, how he’s the best you’ve ever had, how he’s the only one you’ll ever want…

The second – and far more likely – scenario is in the early hours of the morning, when the sunlight is streaming into the modest apartment he keeps you in, your shared bed feeling warm with your bodies pressed against one another. Soft, sleepy morning sex is Shouta’s favorite, and something that he tries to incite as often as he possibly can.

There’s just something about it that gets him hot under the collar; maybe it’s the casualness of it all, the way it feels so natural, so human and so right, as if your bodies were made for each other. Maybe it’s the way it feels so intimate, like you’re both raw, yourselves in the most wonderful way.

Or maybe it’s the way you’re still just slightly sleepy, and you’re much more likely to be clingy at this time, touching him more and letting your real noises come out, not hindered by any shame or hate or embarrassment.

Regardless, Shouta loves it – so on the rare weekends where he’s off, expect to be woken up on the brink of an orgasm just as you deserve.

A yawn slips past Shouta’s lips, eyes peeling open and seeing the gray of his bedsheets. Everything is warm and soft, and as he shifts slightly, something moves next to him.

Nothing seems real for a few moments as he gazes down at you, your body curled up next to his own. It doesn’t feel real that you’re really here – in his bed without any clothing, happily sleeping without a care in the world. He swallows, something coming over him and moving him slowly – carefully – peel off the covers, moving down to where your legs slightly part.

He leans down, face mere inches away from the tufts of your pubic hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he inhales. You’re perfect – and as he gently pries your legs open further, Shouta can’t help but think of how often he’s fantasized about this very moment – how often he’s dreamt of what’s between your thighs, how he’d lay awake at night and press his fingers between two pillows, grinding his fingers against the cotton and pretending it was you, imagining how warm and wet you’d be for him.

He swallows, determination setting his brow as he lays onto his stomach, shuffling so that he can lightly lick at your inner thighs, eyes closing at the familiar taste of you. He takes his time, going slowly and softly, licking closer and closer to your pretty folds, eventually reaching them and licking his lips at the taste.

A thumb comes up to slowly press against your clit, knowing too much pressure would hurt and not warm your body up the way it needed. He continues his licks, before switching roles and starting to suckle at your clit as a finger dips between your folds, collecting the slick and rubbing it between his fingers.

Soon he’s pressing one inside, feeling the way your thighs twitch slightly, a small, sleepy moan ringing in his ears. God, you’re so damn perfect – even unconscious you’re enough to get his cock throbbing against the cotton sheets.

He keeps his pace slow, but as time passes you stir a bit, and when he hears your sleepy voice mumble out his name, Shouta curses, his fingers speeding up a bit.

That gets you more awake – soon your fingers are carding through his hair, sighs and murmurs of his name sounding like heaven.

“Mm, Shouta, that feels good…” You mumble, still dazed from waking up. Your hips are twitching now, a sign that the pleasure is slowly beginning to build.

Shouta groans against your cunt, the sound muffled.

Soon his fingers are picking up the pace again, his circles and licks at your clit growing more insistent, and the hands weaving through his hair start to tug – the sensation gets him humping at the bed for a moment, the morning glow still shining on you as he glances up at your face. You look like an angel – shining in the sunlight, your lips parted in a moan, head thrown back in pleasure.

Shouta pulls back for a moment, sending a kiss to your clit that makes your hips buck. He chuckles a bit, licking his lips.

“You’re so beautiful..” He whispers against your thigh, pressing open mouthed kisses against the skin. You hum at his compliment, and he watches as you smile, his breath practically punched out of his lungs.

“Shouta, you’re too good to me…” Your voice is soft, too, and soon he’s back to sucking at your clit, feeling the way your body jolts slightly, the pleasure making you sigh and swallow. He watches the movement of your throat.

“Feels good, mm yes, oh Shouta - just like that,” You start, eyes closed again, and Shouta finds himself abandoning the gentle pace he’d adopted, instead being more insistent, more pushy – suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get you coming on his fingers.

You gasp lightly at the new change in pace, grinding your hips to match the new stimulation, and it makes Shouta dizzy. How can you be so attractive? How can you look so perfect in this moment; in his bed, moaning his name, looking and tasting and smelling like his own personal slice of heaven?

It’s cheesy and he’s almost embarrassed, but tears prick at the corners of his eye.

Soon your gasps have turned to moans, and all too soon you warn him in a slurred voice that you’re coming, your back arching up off the mattress and your moans light and airy as you gush against his fingers, white coating all the way down his knuckles and onto his palms. It makes him choke a bit, the feeling of your cunt rhythmically clenching down on him and your chest heaving, and with a final lick to your clit that makes you jerk, he’s moving up to kiss you.

The kiss is slow, his tongue brushing against yours and wet sound filling the room, but Shouta doesn’t mind. How could he, when he’s never felt this relaxed before?

His eyes slowly open as he feels your fingers wrap around him, a thumb brushing along his tip to collect a bit of the wetness there.

“Shouta, let me make you feel good.” You tell him, your voice just a whisper.

He looks at you, his lips parted for a brief moment, before a small smile quirks up the corners of his mouth. “Why would you do that?”

You trace the line of his jaw with your free thumb. The slow strokes of his cock have him a bit distracted, but he hears every word you speak to him. “Because I love you.”

He swallows, the words making something feel tight in his throat.

You laugh a bit at his silence and the dumbstruck look on his face. “What? Do you not love me too?”

And to answer that, Shouta scoffs, leaning down to kiss you again as he grasps himself around the base, pulling himself away from you and pushing into you, feeling your sharp intake of breath against his lips.

His pace is slow, soft, like he’s trying to tell you something – hips moving slowly and deeply, letting you feel every inch of him. He kisses your neck as your head falls back, your eyes fluttering closed.

Pressing a kiss against your collarbone, Shouta smiles against your skin, a groan falling from his lips.

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

And he means it – you’ll don’t know half of the things he’s done for you, and as he squeezes at your breast and hears your soft moan, he knows he’ll never tell you.

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere aizawa #yandere eraserhead #bnha smut #mha smut #_bnha #_shouta aizawa #_lee's profiles

[whatacaitastrophe]

Guilty as Sin?

Summary: After confessing his feelings for Tav, Gale fantasizes about them back in his tent, because he's an idiot who said they needed to wait a little longer to explore their mutual desires.

Rating: Explicit Words: ~1k

Tags: Pillow Humping, Masturbation, Gender neutral Tav, Tav is referred to as "You" Song Inspo: "Guilty as Sin?" - Taylor Swift Author Notes: Shout out to the Magic Man discord server for making me write this, and shout out to Taylor Swift for writing a song about masturbation.

“It’s quite thrilling— to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially at your side.”

Despite the raised eyebrows from Shadowheart and the snide remarks from Astarion (“Really? You’re telling them this now? Right now?”), Gale wasn’t sorry for confessing his attraction to you after the heat of battle. Now that Elminster had quieted the orb in Gale’s chest, he was no longer afraid to be candid about his attraction to you. After all, the mere thought of kissing you was, until recently, a threat to Gale’s very existence. He was touch starved, and now that he could finally do something about it? Why would he wait to finally lay the groundwork of his desires with you until you were alone. 

Besides, saying it in front of Astarion also had its perks. The vampire could no longer feign ignorance to the connection Gale shared with you. Therefore, Astarion could no longer continue flirting with you, or do anything else the two of you were doing in the dead of night while everyone else slept, without blatantly walking into Gale’s territory. 

Declaring his intentions with you (and hearing you say that you felt the same way) sent a message, loud and clear: You belonged to Gale, and Astarion needed to back the fuck off. 

The only misstep Gale made when confessing his attraction to you was insisting that it wasn’t the time or place, that the two of you needed to wait a little longer before exploring your desires. If he’s being honest with himself, that just might be the stupidest thing Gale has ever said. 

That was the thought that kept Gale up after everyone else went to sleep, tossing and turning as he silently kicked himself for not immediately inviting you to his tent. There was a reason, of course, Gale wanted the gesture to be as beautiful and grand as the object of his affections, and he couldn’t do it after a full day of flinging spells at shadow-cursed creatures. Damn his lofty ambitions for getting the best of him, even in the simplest ways. 

Gale huffed with frustration as he rolled onto his back, the thoughts of you plaguing his mind and making his cock impossibly hard. As Gale slid his hand over his chest, he could only pray that  this would be his last night indulging in a fantasy about you instead of indulging in the real thing. 

Closing his eyes, Gale started off slowly—palming himself over his pajamas, squeezing his shaft gently. He imagined it was you: You with your soft hands that he’d had the pleasure of brushing against while sitting around the campfire. It was you that slipped deft fingers beneath the hem of his trousers, stroking Gale’s cock with feather light touches. It was you who pulled Gale’s trousers down past his hips, allowing his already leaking cock to spring free from its confines. 

“I’ve been waiting for this, for so long.” You said in his mind as he slowly stroked his cock, imagining the way you’d tease him because oh— you would tease him, Gale was certain of it. After all, the two of you had already spent weeks flirting and verbally teasing each other. Why wouldn’t you want to drag it out a little longer. 

“Please,” Gale begged audibly, speaking only to the image of you in his head. “I need more.” Gale stroked himself harder as he imagined you complying with his request, leaning forward and enveloping his cock with the wet, hot heat of your mouth. Gale arched his hips into his hand, a soft moan tumbling from his lips at the thought of you swallowing his cock to the hilt until it tickled the back of your throat. 

When he couldn’t take it any longer, Gale reached for one of the many pillows he had in his tent and rolled over desperately, placing the pillow between his legs as he straddles it. A soft moan left Gale’s mouth as he braced one hand on the ground and held the pillow in place with the other. As he began grinding against the pillow, the vision in his mind shifted. 

You’re beneath him now, your body ready and waiting to take him. Gale imagines what you sound like when you moan as he slides his cock inside of you— how pretty your voice sounds when Gale is the source of your pleasure instead of someone else. How pretty Gale’s name will sound when it’s sung from your lips as he fucks you. A quiet moan passes through Gale’s lips at the thought as he ruts against the pillow, aching and desperate for you. 

“Harder.” Your voice is crystal clear in Gale’s mind, as is your body trembling beneath him as he fucks you the way you requested. With a subtle flick of his wrist, the pillow becomes warm beneath him. It’s not quite the same as having a body beneath him, but it will do. Gale’s hips snapped desperately as he chased his pleasure and pretended that it’s not a pillow beneath him, sheathing his cock as he moved, but the velvet warmth of your inner walls. 

“Gods, you look incredible,” Gale whimpered softly as he pictured his thick length sliding in and out of you. “You take me so well.” He whispered to no one as he doubled his efforts, hips rutting erratically as Gale’s climax swiftly approached. 

“I love you.” 

Those were the last words Gale imagined leaving your lips before slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle the moan that escapes him as he cums with a shout. Hot spurts of semen burst from Gale’s cock as he rode the pillow into his own personal oblivion, ruining the fabric beneath him the same way he imagined ruining you. 

It was only once his cock was spent and over-sensitive that Gale collapsed onto his bedroll, panting, sweating, and dizzy from the intensity of his climax. The visions of you fade away slowly as Gale stares at the ceiling of his tent, leaving him only as satisfied as one can be after masturbating while the object of their desire slept a dozen feet away: spent, but already aching for more. 

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow Gale would volunteer to stay back at camp so he could save his strength, so he could save his magic, for you. 

Tomorrow, Gale would make you completely and utterly his. He needed to. 

Because if he didn’t, he was going to run out of pillows. 

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gender neutral tav #gender neutral reader #bg3 smut #baldur's gate 3 smut #gale smut #gale one shot #gale fic #gale fanfic

[soft-mafia]

Tuesday [Buggy x Reader]

warnings: fem reader, nsfw, smut, rough sex, Buggy being a perv(kind of), risky dry humping, fingering, straight up porn I’m ngl to you, barely proof read

a/n: I’m SO sorry for my absence😭I was kind of caught up in my own life(and my own head) and I completely forgot to write lmao. I hope you guys enjoy this one though!!

“Listen.. Y/n. We’re both adults here so I’m not gonna beat around the bush. Sleep with me for just one night, and in return I’ll let you have days off every Tuesday.”

• When Buggy came to Y/n with the proposition, he was obviously nervous, but still trying to act “cool” and macho. He didn’t want to seem like too much of a creep coming to the only female member on his crew with an offer like this.

• Buggy would be lying if he said he hadn’t fantasized about Y/n. Especially when she wore those skimpy outfits on hot days.. that would lead him into spending hours in his quarters, vigorously rubbing one out to the thought of grabbing her by the waist and dry humping her on the deck.

• So if she were to reject him, it would make things extremely awkward. Buggy was already regretting his decision.

• Y/n on the other hand was ecstatic, she got to have sex with her handsome captain, and getting days off in return? Count her in.

• And so, that one night turned into several nights. Y/n had snuck out of the crew’s quarters every night, tip toeing past sleeping pirates until she made it to Buggy’s cabin for another evening of fun.

• The first time Y/n had snuck back into Buggy’s room— she had tripped over a sea of empty beer bottles. The first night she slept with him, Buggy made sure to clean up all the mess so she wouldn’t find out how much of a slob he was, but after that night the mess just started to accumulate again.. Y/n had walked in on Buggy, half hunched over his bed only wearing his boxers, about to get some shut eye. When he saw Y/n trip over his mess he screamed out like he had seen a ghost.

• Eventually, Y/n had just migrated to living in Buggy’s quarters with him. Of course, not without sly comments and occasional wolf whistles every time someone caught her walking out of his room.

• This night wasn’t different than the other nights, Buggy was on top of Y/n, his hairy chest pressed against her back, cock buried deep inside of her as she moaned into the pillow. Buggy was grunting and huffing like a boar, booze-scented breath fanned over the back of Y/n’s head as he slammed his hips back and forth.

• Buggy was not a gentle lover in the slightest, he was rough and took what he wanted; the first night they had sex was probably the roughest; he had bent her in half on his bed, holding her ankles down as he plowed her. It was far from what Y/n always fantasized but she was seeing stars never the less.

“Mmm.. C-Captain..!” Y/n gasped, almost getting choked on her own breath as Buggy detached his cock to hit her cervix, she titled her head back and let out a loud moan. “Yeah.. that’s right. You’re Captain’s little fuck toy, huh?” Buggy snickered behind grit teeth, sliding one of his hands down her back to give her ass a firm slap, “My little whore.” He grunted, thrusting his cock in and out at a rough pace, making her pussy spasm.

Y/n could barely keep her eyes open, her entire body trembling underneath her rough captain; she loved every part of it. They both came, Buggy, deep inside of her, and Y/n, around his cock and onto the mattress. They were both panting heavily— Buggy felt like he was about to have a heart attack. “Oh fuck-” he groaned before rolling over and flopping on his back, his long hair sprawled out around him, he glanced over at Y/n, a shivering mess curled up at his side, “You ok, Y/n?” He asked gently, the first few nights he had just stared in concern, too afraid and too awkward to speak up, but he was slowly working on his aftercare skills.

Y/n nodded, leaning into him as the musky scent she grew to love invaded her nose. She wrapped an arm around his torso, across his broad chest. “I’m just glad tomorrow is Tuesday.” She giggled.

The next day, Y/n was enjoying her day off; by being a nuisance to Buggy, sitting on the arm rest of his throne, letting her legs rest over his lap. “It’s like you’re trying to get me riled up.” Buggy said through a smirk, rubbing up and down Y/n’s leg. “Of course not, I’m just trying to spend time with my Captain. Is that wrong?” Y/n giggled, playing with one of the braids in Buggy’s hair that was dangling out the side of his hat.

“Hmmm. Nothing wrong with that.” Buggy mumbled, his smirk growing as he palmed the growing bulge in his pants, “Why don’t you slide down on my lap, here?” He glanced up at Y/n, patting his thigh. Of course she noticed his boner, and thank god that the rest of his crew were out doing something off of the ship. She slowly moved down to sit on his lap, right on his hard crotch. She felt a small chill run down her spine when she heard him groan under his breath. He put one hand on her hip, squeezing it firmly, “That’s right, baby.” He leaned forward, wrapping both arms around her waist now as he began to move his hips underneath her.

“Mm.. captain..” Y/n held onto Buggy’s forearms, grinding her ass against his clothed dick as it rubbed against her pussy through her pants. Buggy chuckled, “Funny how this was supposed to be a one time thing,” He licked a stripe along the shell of Y/n’s ear, “And now you’re here, rubbing your sweet ass on my cock. You must really love getting attention from this dirty old clown, huh?” He whispered in her ear, followed by a dry chuckle.

Y/n bit her bottom lip, whimpering softly, “It feels so good..” she breathed out, her legs trembling as she squeezed them together. Buggy swiftly spread them apart again, his fingers moving down between her legs, slithering beneath the hem of her pants to get into her panties. “Holy shit you’re fucking sopping.” He laughed, slipping two fingers into her easily, making her mewl and arch her back; he moved his fingers out and up to rub circles into her clit as he continued to grind against her ass.

“That’s good.. yeah, lemme hear those little noises.” Buggy grinned widely, then grunted as his abdomen clenched, the friction getting him so close to cumming, urging him to rub her clit faster. Y/n’s thighs were trembling, fingers digging into Buggy’s hairy arm as her hips struggled to keep up with him. They were both panting, moaning and groaning together.

Y/n put her hand over where Buggy’s hand was inside of her pants, pressing his palm against her pussy further so she could grind on it. “Damn you’re really loving me, huh?” Buggy laughed, then groaned before burying his mouth against Y/n’s back, squeezing his eyes shut as he came right into his boxers, knuckle deep inside of her spasming cunt. Y/n made a mess of his fingers as she came around them, purring like a kitten.

Buggy breathed heavily, he was seeing stars for a moment before he leaned back against his throne, Y/n was still riding out her orgasm on his palm, before he slid his hand away to lick at her juices. Y/n moved so that she was sitting on one of his thighs, wrapping an arm around his neck and leaning against his chest.

“Hey.. uh- Y/n.” Buggy croaked out, wiping his saliva off on his pants, “Why do you keep.. yknow, doing this with me.” He asked her, wrapping an arm around her.

Y/n looked away, chewing on her bottom lip as she thought, “I..” she didn’t know why she was afraid to just tell him that she always liked him, he’s fucked her so many times already, but she couldn’t stop herself from blushing and stumbling on her words. “Am I making you feel like you need to do this?” Buggy asked, starting to panic slightly, feeling like he was abusing his position and being a dirty creep towards the only girl on his crew, “I swear I didn’t mean to pressure you into doing anything!”

“No, Captain! You didn’t pressure me into doing anything. I really like spending time with you.” Y/n looked back up at Buggy, “I really like you.”

Buggy’s eyes widened, he then looked away. Oh.. well, that explains why she was so eager to accept my offer in the first place. “Really?” He said in slight disbelief, his voice cracking unintentionally. “Yes really!” Y/n frowned at him, “Do you think I’d even be doing this if I didn’t? You’re the handsomest pirate I’ve ever seen!”

Buggy didn’t know if that inflated his ego, or confused him even more— She thinks I’m handsome?! “Really?” He said again, his pitch getting higher. “You’re so insecure.” Y/n mumbled, giggling quietly as she looked away. “HEY!! I’M NOT INSECURE!! HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT TO YOUR CAPTAIN!!” Buggy shouted, grabbing both of Y/n’s shoulders and shaking her.

“STOP SHAKING ME!!”

#one piece #one piece buggy #buggy one piece #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one piece smut #buggy headcanons #buggy imagines #buggy opla #opla buggy #opla #one piece live action #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece x reader

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes✦

(Bros I'm so sorry, I've had the biggest fucking writer's block. I'm hoping some silly lil meme posts will make up for it until I can write something substantial, I'msosorry-)

Y/N: Some of us, I don’t wanna name names, give me a headache when they speak and its- Soap: Is it me?? Y/N: No. Graves: Is it me? Y/N: …it’s not Soap- --

Price: I’m gonna make you a soup. Gaz, delirious with the flu: I don’t wanna be a soup, Captain… Price: …right, how about I give you soup instead? Gaz: That’d be nicer. Price: Right. --

Soap: What the fuck knuckles is this? Valeria: *holding her hyper femme gf in her lap* She’s my girlfriend you intolerant shit. Soap: Whoa! Pump the hate brakes Fox & friends. I’m just surprised anyone would date you. Especially Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony. Y/N, on Valeria’s lap: You know that cartoon? Soap: No comment. Ghost: No, I think you should comment more, Johnny. Soap: NO. COMMENT. Moving on! Gaz: We’re gonna circle back to that. --

Graves: I think the term you’re searching for is ‘current captain’. Ghost: The words I’m searching for, I can’t say. Because there’s a rookie *motions to Soap* present. Soap: No no, say it. I can handle it. Ghost: You sure? Soap: Absolutely, L.T. Ghost: *looks at Graves* Fucking donkey lookin’ muppet bitch. Soap: Brutal blow, sir. Well done. --

Y/N: *comes in* Hey, Gaz, how old is your captain? Gaz: What? Y/N: No not like that…it is, it is like that. How old is he? I came into base, he asked if I needed anything to eat. I said ‘eat what’? Gaz: Okay, first of all, put my plate down and stop hitting on my captain! Y/N: Don’t get mad at me! I don’t even wanna be here. Y’all the ones that want me to be here. --

NPC: Ohhh if I weren’t a lady, I’d deck you! Fem!Y/N: Oh please. Try it and I’d have you on your back so fast you’d think you’re on a date. Ghost: *spits tea* Price, covered in tea: That was so unnecessary- --

Ghost: Mmph. Y/N: Dark room, avoidant, you seem tired despite sleeping for awhile…you wanna try and get out in the sun or do you just need to be in the sadness dungeon? Ghost: *holds up two fingers* Y/N: Would you like some tea for the sadness dungeon? Ghost: …Mhm. Y/N: Tea for the sad dragon coming up! Ghost: Mmph. (Aka “thank you”) Y/N: No problem! --

Y/N: Ya know sometimes there’s times in life where you just have to sit back and go, “ya know what? I’m proud of myself.” Gaz: Is this one of those times? Y/N: No- Soap: *wheeze* --

(Shibari reference)

Price: …alright, when I said we needed to restrain him in a way that ensured he couldn’t get out. This is not- Gaz: These are not military knots. Y/N: No, they aren’t. You all suggested knots that he would know how to get out of. You told me to get rid of that possibility. So, I did. Soap: He is tied…to the ceiling. Ghost: You kinky bitch. Y/N: *shrug* Price: Where did you even learn this? Y/N: That is for me and my daddy issues to know, sir. Don’t worry about it. Just wake him up so we can start interrogating him.

-

Graves: We can rule the world! Ghost: *turns to leave* Graves:: *watches him pull out something of Y/N’s* Graves: WH-YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FUCK MY WIFE Graves: GHOST. G H O S T Ghost: *leaves* --

Graves: Let me log into Twitter- WAIT, IS THAT GHOST’S DICK!?! Ghost: I fucked your wife. Graves: AGGHHHHHH- --

Medic!Y/N: Don’t torture yourself Ghost. *snips bandage* Medic!Y/N: That’s my job.~ Ghost, internally: Stayfocusedwecannot- --

Price: We’re you listening to me at all? Y/N: No I was fantasizing about beard burn. Price: Pardon? Y/N: Huh? --

Ghost: He died of natural causes. Gaz: You pushed him off the roof. Ghost: Gravity is natural. --

Y/N: Nuh Uh, no. I’m not doing it. I have self respect, and I will not stoop so low as to- Gaz: *brings out 100£.* Y/N: -oooooo*takes money* I’ll have it done in an hour. --

Soap, looking at Konig: That man is a tree. Y/N: Then I'm a fucking squirrel. Soap: On the hunt for nuts then? Y/N: Famished for them. Ghost: Why do I sit with you two...

#call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #konig #cod konig #john price #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #phillip graves #valeria el sin nombre garza #incorrect cod quotes #incorrect quotes #modern warfare 2 x reader #modern warfare

[sxcret-garden]

Heeseung ღ Treat you right [M]

ღ Enhypen Heeseung x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~2k ღ genre: smut (marking, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, a bit of overstimulation) ღ warnings: cheating ღ prompts: “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.” + “I like being close to you. You’re warm.”

Desc.: Your friend Heeseung has always been the person you would run to when your shitty boyfriend upset you once again. Little do you know that the secret attraction you harbour for your friend is mutual, and once that fact becomes clear, it doesn’t take long for one thing to lead to the other…

You sigh, hoping that the bitter aftertaste of your last fight with your boyfriend would disappear with it, as if you could breathe out the feelings, and you snuggle up closer to Heeseung. Your friend, who had welcomed you at his doorstep and let you in without hesitation as soon as he saw the sorry state you were in, is now lying in bed with you, his arms wrapped securely around you.

"You deserve better." - You remember the first time he had told you this, back when you were only just starting to go out with your current boyfriend, and even months later that statement still rings true. In moments like these at least, you believe his words, but when your boyfriend comes crawling back to you, mumbling apologies to you in between the sweetest kisses he can muster, you always end up forgiving him.

"Wanna talk about it?" Heeseung's voice tears through the silence in the room and through your thoughts, even though he's speaking softly. You shake your head however, burying your face in his chest as you pull him closer in your embrace. A sense of safety washes over you, and you let go of the tension in your body as you breathe out. "Then what? Should we just stay like this? Or do you want me to distract you?" He grins as he speaks the last part, and you can only imagine what goes through his head as he does. Still you shake your head.

"Let's stay like this," you mumble, and when you lift your head to look at his face, you add, "I like being close to you. You're warm."

The expression in your friend's eyes changes, and you don't miss the way he gulps at your words and at the proximity of your face to his. His gaze drops to your lips, and though he's fighting hard to focus on any other spot on your face instead, it's useless.

And it's not like you don't feel it too. The attraction, the way you feel at home with him, the way you've repeatedly caught yourself fantasizing about what it would be like to turn your back on your boyfriend and to run away with Heeseung instead. You can't fight the pull towards him - not that you would want to - and then you kiss him, your lips touching for merely a second.

"We shouldn't." He's the one to whisper those words, but their meaning quickly gets lost as you press your lips against his mouth again.

"Whatever," you mutter into the kiss. "That asshole isn't here anyway." Anger now coursing through your veins, you kiss Heeseung with more fervour, and he lets you. Supporting you by your hips as you crawl on top of him, he sighs into the kiss, permitting you to part his lips with your tongue. Sharing open mouthed kisses, your hands find their way up into his hair, and as if you had found a weak spot of his, he breaks the kiss and moans your name when you tug at the short strands. Using the opening, you begin to trail kisses from the corner of his mouth down to his jaw, and when he leans his head back to give you proper access to his neck, you move on to that area. Teeth nipping at his skin, he lets you hear breathy moans, and the sound of his voice only causes you to become more eager.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you suddenly, and when you bring some distance between you to look at him, he cups your face with his hand. “Are you sure about this?”

“Stop asking useless questions,” you mumble, attaching your lips to his jaw again, but he gently pushes you away in order to make eye contact with you again. He sits up with you still on top of him, now taking your face into both his hands, thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“I just don’t want you to regret it after,” he says calmly, while his gaze drops to your mouth. Biting his lower lip and releasing it slowly while he waits for an answer, you feel yourself driven by impatience most of all when you wrap your fingers around his wrists. Taking his hands away from your cheeks you lean in to kiss him again, placing his arms on your shoulders instead.

“I won’t,” you whisper, and when Heeseung pulls back after kissing you once more, the expression in his eyes has changed. Hands roaming your body and tugging at your clothes, he soon peels off your shirt and you shiver as you feel his warm fingertips against the skin on your back. 

“Then I’m not gonna hold back,” he mutters against your neck, burying his head there and scattering kisses all over while he pulls you as close as possible. Without thinking, you roll your hips against his as you make out, and soon enough you can feel his bulge growing underneath you. He’s the first one to break away, leaving your lips longing for more with every second you don’t feel him kissing you. Hastily taking off his shirt, he then flips your positions around, pinning you to the bed by your wrists and going right back to sharing hot kisses with you.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, rolling his hips against yours and putting more strength behind the movement than you had just a few seconds ago. Heat rushes to your core and you moan into his kiss as you realize he’s no longer holding back, and you feel an overwhelming need to feel him inside you already. 

“Hee,” you call out to him as you throw your arms around him, raking your fingers up into his hair. “Please,” you mutter a single word, and when he parts from you, you know that it won’t take more than that to make him understand what you want. His lips leaving sloppy kisses down your throat and the middle of your chest, he doesn’t waste any more time to help rid you of your remaining clothes before also stripping out of his. 

“Babe…” he mumbles as he presses his mouth against your collarbone, and you involuntarily chuckle for but a second.

“Since when do you call me that?” you ask, and you mewl as he reaches your stomach, sinking his teeth into your skin. You permit him to suck a mark onto the spot right above your hip bone, and when he comes back up and you see the dark expression in his eyes, you feel the air getting knocked out of your lungs. 

“I always call you that in my head when I think about us doing exactly this,” he admits, and a shiver runs down your spine. He quickly kisses a trail further down, until he’s reached the inside of your thigh, and hooking his arms under your legs, he sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh there.

“Fuck,” you mutter as you throw your head back, both at the sudden pain and the thought of him getting off to dirty thoughts about you. And it’s not like you’ve never done the same, so you let out a moan of appreciation while he kisses the spot where he had just nibbled on your skin better. 

“You okay?” he checks in with you, hands searching for yours and intertwining your fingers. He’s so close to your core that you can feel his breath right where you want him most, and you nod quickly.

“Just touch me already, please,” you urge him on, and he doesn’t hesitate. You bite down on your bottom lip, stifling the whine that escapes you when you feel him pressing his lips against your dripping pussy, and you throw your head back. Digging your nails into the backs of his hands, you can feel the vibrations of him chuckling, before he lets his tongue dart across your clit. Alternating between that and wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud to suck on it, he’s quick to make you feel like you’re about to go crazy, and so all you can do is throw your head back and give yourself up to his touches. 

“Fuck… don’t stop,” you mewl, knuckles turning white at this point, and him humming in response. “Please, don’t stop…!” You cry out when you feel him slipping his wet muscle inside you, and he moans at your taste.

“...taste so good,” he mutters after pulling out, and he goes right back to drawing shapes on your clit. Shaking with expectation, you let out another whine when he repeats the process, darting his tongue into your pussy and then dragging it back up to tease your clit. “I-I’m getting close…” you let him know, and that’s when he lifts his head, stopping his ministrations at once.

“Don’t cum yet, babe,” he mutters and he crawls up to kiss you. Tasting yourself on his tongue, you throw your arms around him and drag your nails down his back. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.” His words still ringing in your ears as he parts from you, you feel him pushing into you the next second, and you let out a whine from the overwhelming bliss of being filled up so perfectly. He reaches behind himself to help you wrap your legs around his hips while he lets you adjust to his size, and when he grabs your wrists to pin them against the bed right beside your head, he mumbles,

“You ready?” You nod in desperation.

“Please fuck me.” Heeseung doesn’t hesitate upon hearing your plea, and when he starts snapping his hips into yours, you’re not the only one who moans from the pleasure and the relief. 

“Fuck… shit.” A string of curses falls from his lips, a drop of sweat running down his forehead, and with every time he pulls out and thrusts all the way back in, he hits that delicious spot deep inside you. You feel yourself losing control quickly, clenching your hands into fists and you can’t stop yourself from calling out his name over and over as you’re chasing your high.

“Don’t stop… Heeseung… I swear to god, don’t s-stop…!” Your high comes crashing down on you, shaking your whole body and he fucks you right through it, relishing in the desperate moans and whines you let out as your orgasm fades and the pleasure mixes with the overstimulation. And then he releases inside you with a grunt, and he comes to a halt, panting.

“Fuck…” he breathes out another curse as he rolls off you, lying down right next to you with your upper arms touching and you’re both catching your breaths. You say nothing for a long while, focused on the emotions still racing through your entire body. And then eventually, you move and you lie down on top of him, brushing some strands of hair out of his face and brushing your lips against his.

“Let’s go out,” you say, and your friend reacts with a gasp.

“The two of us?” he questions. And starting to grin, he adds, “Like… as a couple?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “We’ll be so much better together than me and that asshole.” You give him a smile that he returns, and then you kiss him again. “Yes or no?” Heeseung sits up with you on top of him, hands cupping your face, and there’s a kind of joy behind his gaze that you don’t see too often. With half-lidded eyes and a smug smirk sitting on his lips, he gives you a lingering kiss, and then he says,

“I’ll treat you right. Just trust me.”

#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha smut #smut

[am-i-interrupting]

If you're still taking requests, can we get hazbin characters react to you asking them to dom you one night? Preferably the women but do it for whoever you'd like

Fuck. I just realized after I posted I read this wrong. I will do the correct one. I promise. I’m so sorry. I mixed up some words. Processing problems and all. This is:

Reaction to You Doming

(Part two— the boys)

Lute

She is resistant at first.

She shuts it down almost immediately.

It’s more so in a flustered way than a rude way.

She just sort of gets up, puts her hands up in surrender, and shakes her head as she walks away muttering, “No, no, absolutely not,” underneath her breath.

It takes her a while to build up enough trust and confidence in your relationship to allow you to dom no matter how much she may want or fantasizes about it.

Trust me, she fantasizes about it.

She’ll wake you up in the middle of the night whimpering in her sleep, telling you she’s been a good girl.

Or you’ll wake up with her having placed your hand somewhere on her body as she gets herself off, pleading for you to let her come.

Then, several weeks or maybe even months later. Maybe you’re in public, maybe you’re not but she’ll just casually walk by you and say, “You can dom tonight.”

She walks away before you can even process what she just said.

When you come home, she pulls you into a kiss immediately as she walks you both to the bedroom.

“Let’s talk about this first.” “Later. Please. I just— I need you to let me come and be your good girl.”

It’s clear she’s already partially in a sub space.

Not wanting to overstep her boundaries, you stick to doing just that.

You move so she’s laying with her back against your chest, her hands wrapped around your neck as you play with her clit and kiss her neck, whispering what a good girl she is as she whines.

When she’s close she starts muttering about how she wants you to make her take it.

You hold her legs spread out as she shakes and writhes.

Eventually you get to talk to her and set clearer boundaries but for now, she’s out of breath, panting against your skin, and slumping down into the safety of your embrace.

Rosie

Your sex with Rosie is by no means anything vanilla beforehand, it’s just Rosie didn’t have the terms to describe it.

Having come from a time where sex was not spoken of and was very much just a situation where the woman gives and man takes, she didn’t have any proper sex education.

After she does some research, she realizes what category your sex life thus far has fallen into.

She’s sort of taken on the role of a service too, guiding you, praising you, putting your needs before her own and expecting little in return.

She’ll gladly explore this with you.

She buys books on the subject, looks at all the resources she can.

She learns a lot and is nearly giddy with excitement each time she comes across something she thinks either of you will like.

She has a whole notebook filled with words, phrases, descriptions, and even gear that’s highlighted and underlined.

It’s not secret that Rosie is one for a bit of pain play. You’ve walked out of the bedroom covered in bite marks and hickies many times.

What she didn’t know was how much she’d be into knife play.

She never thought to bring a knife into the bedroom when her teeth and nails worked just fine but if you hold a knife against her throat, oh, she just melts.

She will just lean against you as you make her take her pleasure while whispering such soft works into her ear, in such contrast with the sharp knife against her neck.

If you bind her and give her oral? She will be nearly unresponsive with pleasure.

She does still live to please you.

She thrives when you guide her down to where you want.

You can basically puppeteer her, she’s so responsive.

She loves to worship you with her tongue and teeth.

She enjoys marking you as much as she loves being marked up in return.

Vaggie

“Oh, yeah, um, sure. We can. . . We can try that.”

Vaggie is sort of always flustered by the conversation of sex. She has no problems or qualms adoring you but when it comes to sex, she gets tongue tied.

She has a hard time expressing herself sometimes in any manner but especially when it comes to sex.

She’s much more confident and comfortable with giving to you than receiving.

It’s very much a situation where she feels embarrassed, like an imposter, getting love and lust from you.

When she’s between your thighs, she’s in a place even better than heaven.

She loves to give you pleasure with you explicitly guiding her.

She squirms when the roles are reversed though and you’re pleasing her.

When she tops, she normally gets herself to come with her own fingers or there’s a toy that’s being used. Rarely is it you and your fingers, your mouth, your touch that makes her come when she tops purely because she’s too embarrassed.

She tries to hide her face, muffle her voice.

She gets very whiny and flushed when you don’t let her.

Feeling seen by you makes her feel vulnerable and it’s not that she doesn’t want to be vulnerable with you, she just doesn’t know how.

Every time you praise her, she squirms and closes her eyes.

When you get her to look at you while you praise her, get her to look in your eyes, she never comes harder than those times.

She’ll see stars.

Velvette

At first she sort of takes it as a challenge at first.

Don’t go into the sub space.

She doesn’t like being vulnerable. It takes a while.

When you’re trying to please her, she’s going to automatically get into that commanding mode.

It’s not until you make her please you, directing her explicitly that she starts to drop that persona.

There’s something about you telling her explicitly how to tease you that just makes her more receptive to dropping.

Of course, when she’s topping, she will be using the information on how to make you feel the most pleasure against you.

When you do start putting her pleasure on the forefront of your mind, bondage and blindfolds probably have to come out or she will start to be bratty.

She either yanks on the bindings or she just slumps, hanging like a doll.

She will still be bratty no matter what you do though. It’s just a matter of how much.

When she’s giving you oral under your guidance, she will try to tease you.

A slap on her ass is normally enough to get her to stop though, if just momentarily.

If not, she’s reduced to a helpless mess if you start fingering her perky little ass though.

She’s actually big on anal and double penetration, be it vaginal and oral, anal and oral, or vaginal and anal.

She’s a cock slut.

#hazbin hotel velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin vaggie x reader #vaggie x reader #hazbin rosie x reader #rosie x reader #hazbin lute x reader #lute x reader #nsft

[angstflayer-council]

July Drabble #6- Dear Eddie

The ground is cold where Eddie kneels, but he barely registers the feeling as he stares at the grave in front of him.

Robin had handed him an envelope. He didn’t want to open it. In his gut, he knew what it was.

He only opens it when he needs to distract himself from the sound of Dustin weeping.

A single piece of paper emerges with Steve’s sloppy, rushed handwriting.

Dear Eddie,

I’m writing this before we face this Vecna creep again, and I have a feeling things aren’t going to work out for me this time.

So if you’re reading this, I’m dead. Please thank Robin for giving you this and tell her I love her.

I have to rush this because you keep nudging me, asking what I’m writing. Which is annoying by the way.

Yes, I’m going to say that beyond the grave.

But the real reason I’m writing this is to confess that I love you.

Yeah. I was shocked too. But being close to death makes you realize things.

I probably didn’t tell you because I’m fucking terrified so let me fantasize.

I picture us running away together. Taking the government’s shut the fuck up money and starting over somewhere only the kids and Robin know about.

We’d adopt six little nuggets. You have a crazy amount of energy so you’d tire them out while I watch until you drag me into the mess. (I’d act all pissed but everyone would know I love it.)

And I’d romance you so hard. I’d take my time to memorize every tattoo until I could trace each detail with my eyes closed. I’d love you through thick and thin. I’d always buy you flowers beer? after a fight. I’d love the hell out of you.

And I’d die for you.

I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you this when I was alive. You can hit my grave and call me a coward.

Just know I love you. And I wish that we could’ve had a future together.

And please stop nudging people so much.

I still love you though.

Take care of Dustin and Robin for me.

Yours always,

Steve Harrington

[]Eddie lets the tears flow freely, knowing there’s nothing he can do.

He reaches up a wrinkled hand to trace over the engraving.

“Our Hero” Steve Harrington April 24, 1967 November 6, 2049 Beloved husband, father, grandfather, friend, and babysitter. You will be missed.

Steve hadn’t died during their final battle. And Eddie spent sixty-three happy years with him living out the life Steve had written after he confessed his love midst the battle.

And after everything, the universe finally made its peace with Steve and allowed him to peacefully pass in his sleep.

Although he doesn’t know it, the universe will soon pay Eddie the same respect.

As for Dustin and Robin, they take care of each other and are glad that the two people they love the most are finally at rest together.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #st drabble #july drabble game #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #ANGST

[sailormarijuanera]

(꜆꜄ᴗ͈﹏ᴗ͈)꜆꜄꜆

 “Oookaaayy, how about this one?” 

His chin rested on the same hand that held the bright, cherry red lollipop, his eyes barely flashed in your direction before he kept scrolling through his phone with his other hand.

“It isn’t terrible,” he said. The fact that that was the most positive thing he’d said about any of the outfits was the last straw. 

“Why do you agree to do things you clearly don’t want to do.” It wasn’t a question, just followed by a long, exaggerated sigh. You were already at the other side of the store, looking at yourself in the mirror. It was obvious; the only opinion that mattered was yours. 

“Did I?” came his voice, monotone as ever as he popped the candy back into his mouth. 

“Did you what?” you called back. 

“Agree.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so right. Maybe I’ll finally find a new store with less sassy employees” you said in a simple-resolution sounding tone, though you made extra sure to emphasize the first S of the last word anyone would typically use to describe Choso. Nevertheless, it was an easy fix. If you were unwelcome, you’d let him know the message was received. 

You went back into the dressing room, letting out an exasperated puff of air. The shop’s only pocket of space large enough to house the two tiny dressing rooms was tucked into the back corner of the store.  

You had just taken off the top you were trying, eyeing the crimson, lacey bra you were also considering when, without warning, the curtain to your fitting room was yanked to the side. 

“Excu-” 

“Sassy?” he interrupted. “You flaunt around in front of me looking like that, then call me sassy?” 

He was inside the room, closing the curtain behind him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, you had no idea what came over him. “Choso, I-” 

“No, no, I know. You’re sorry, right?” His hands were on your hips, now. “And you’re just dying to make it up to me.” You were against the wall, and he was on you. His fingers digging into your hips, his eyes looking down at you, his lids hooded and heavy. His breathing heavy, you only noticed because his broad chest was at eye-level, and you couldn’t help but notice how much it was moving. 

“I mean, that’s not what I was gonna say,” you were suddenly hyper-aware of his hands. How large they felt against you. “You think I was flaunting?” 

The corner of his lips, his stupid, pouty lips, pulled up just the slightest bit. It was so hard to get any sort of reaction out of him, that ghost of a smile was enough to get your heart racing and your thighs rubbing against each other. His right hand skimmed over the fabric of your skirt- well, the store’s skirt,- before stopping just under your torso. Both of your chests were heaving, now. You were never one to play it cool, and this was definitely not the time you were suddenly going to spawn the ability. He licked his bottom lip, his mouth slightly agape. “I’m going to kiss you.” 

You nodded. 

“Then I’m gonna fuck you in this fitting room.” 

Your thighs pressed against each other again, and he actually gave you a smirk. “Tell me you want it.” 

“I want it,” you whispered. 

“No, baby.” His right hand stayed where it was while his left grabbed you by the chin. Not gently, necessarily, but with just enough grip to convey a message. His dark purple eyes bore into yours, the shadows of the poorly lit room making him look more shrouded in mystery than usual. The semi-permanent bags under his eyes somehow made him that much hotter, which you were sure he was fully aware of. He knew how fine he was, and it was causing you great emotional distress. “I don’t believe you.” 

“Please,” you said. Your voice was raspy, you didn’t realize just how bad you wanted him. Or more accurately, you’d been working so hard to get over your little crush and now it was being undone in seconds. You’d only just stopped fantasizing about him before bed, after meeting him toward the end of spring. Now it was almost fall, and you were being sucked in all over again. 

“There we go,” but his grip on your chin didn’t loosen. Instead, his other hand roamed greedily down your body, then back up before stopping at your chest. His lips finally landed on yours at the same moment his hand slipped under your bra. The sweet cherry flavor lingered on his breath, mingled with the simple, clean-smelling cologne you always associated him with. You wanted nothing more than to sink into him and meld your mouth into his until separation became a distant thought, a fleeting notion. But he wasn’t having it, you couldn’t get too comfortable apparently, there were things to do. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipple ever so slightly, but just enough to send a delicious shiver down your body, right between your legs. You could feel how wet you were getting, and somewhere in the back of your mind was the hope that he would be into it. He grabbed your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling back just a bit, then he let go. His eyes met yours. 

He didn’t say anything, only moved that same fucking hand from your tit down your stomach, his fingers moving right past your underwear like it wasn’t even there because why the fuck were you even wearing underwear? Huh? 

Two fingers slipped in so easily, that it seemed to earn you some praise. “Oh my fucking god,” he groaned, and relief and arousal battled over which would consume you first. “Of course, it’s wet for me. It better be this fucking wet every single time.” His fingers curved into your pussy but couldn’t go any deeper because of your awkward position. That fact didn’t seem to bother him because he seemed just as determined to make you cum. In small, sharp movements he pumped those glorious fucking fingers in and out of you, your pussy dripping by the time he’d decided you’d had enough. You were a gasping mess and you’d never seen him so happy. His smile was small, just barely tugging on the corners of his lips, but it was because of you. 

Now he was on his knees in front of you, his big hands grabbed the skirt by the sides, and flipped up the fabric before landing soft kisses on the front of your thighs.  He bunched up the fabric on one side, his left hand holding the skirt taut around your torso, holding you firmly in place. His right hand grabbed your thigh and brought it over his shoulder, his mouth almost immediately on your cunt. Normally, it’d be a bad sign for a guy to ignore foreplay like this completely, but it seemed his mere existence was enough foreplay for you. He had to be aware of this, because why else would you be so wet?

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen #choso kamo #choso smut #choso x reader #kamo choso #jujutsu choso #choso jjk #choso