#discret worship

[idealog]

You've always loved ostracizing me.

The Genuine Jesus

Yes, I get you.

Maybe stop stealing MY NAME?

Judgers.

Jesus doesn't have infinite tolerance or patience for continued Iniquity.

Heed, and Grow.

#JESUS #Genuine #he gets us #JESUS CHRIST #Discernment #Discretion #Christ #Mystic Christ #The CHRIST #Anointed #Wisdom #Unbelievers #Doubters #Unclean #Golden Calf #Calf Worshipers #Gentiles #King Jesus #Attachment #Idolatry #Self-will #Divine Will #Holy Spirit #Soul #HUMAN POTENTIAL #EVOLUTION #Progress #Seed #Giving #Truth

[tanadrin]

Revised version of "polytheism vs elaborateness" religion chart. I started with a list of around 150 religions, sects, denominations, philosophies, and spiritual tendencies, whittled down to 100 based on what I could find information on and what meaningful differences would actually show up in a chart like this. Dark blue is Christianity and Christian-derived tendencies; light blue is Judaism and Jewish-derived tendencies; green is Islam and Islam-influenced tendencies; purple is ancient Mediterranean polytheism and related schools of thought; red is Dharmic/Hindu-influenced schools of thought; tan is Chinese religion and philosophy; orange is new religious movements; black is other, unaffiliated religions and movements.

Obviously, "what is a religion" is a complicated topic. Some of the things on this chart might strike you more as philosophical schools (Carvaka, Stoicism), epistemological approaches (Unitarian Universalism), or different ways of slicing the same tradition. The scholarly definition of "religion" is sort of fundamentally circular, and that's not something I'm interested in trying to untangle for this entirely non-scientific exercise.

Religions etc. are scored on two axis: polytheism vs elaborateness of practice. Polytheism is a rank from zero to 11, thus:

0. Strict atheist and materialist, denying the possibility of both gods and the supernatural, e.g., Carvaka.

1. Atheist. Denies the existence of significant supernatural agents worthy of worship, but may not deny all supernatural (or psychic, paranormal, etc.) beings and phenomena (e.g., Mimamsa).

2. Agnostic. This religion makes no dogmatic claims about the existence of supernatural beings worthy of worship, and it may not matter for this religion if such beings exist (e.g., Unitarian Universalists). It does not preclude--and may actually incorporate--other supernatural, psychic, or paranormal phenomena (e.g., Scientology).

3. Deist. This religion acknowledges at least one god or Supreme Being, but rejects this being's active intervention in the world after its creation (e.g., Christian Deism). Deism is marked with a gray line on the chart, in case you want to distinguish religions that specifically care about all this God business from ones that don't.

4. Tawhid monotheist. This religion acknowledges only a single transcendent god above all other natural or supernatural beings, who is usually the creator of the universe and the ground of being, and is without parts, division, or internal distinction (e.g., Islam).

5. Formal monotheism. This religion acknowledges a single god, usually transcendent above all other natural or supernatural beings, but who may have aspects, hypostases, or distinct parts (e.g., Trinitarian Christianity). Pantheism may be considered a special case of formal monotheism that identifies the universe and its many discrete phenomena with a single god or divine force.

6. Dualism. This religion acknowledges a single god worthy of worship, alongside a second inferior, often malevolent being that nevertheless wields great power in or over the world (e.g., Zoroastrianism or Gnosticism).

7. Monolatrist. This religion or practice acknowledges the existence of many gods or divine beings worthy of worship, but focuses on, or happens to be devoted to only one of them (e.g., ancient mystery cults; pre-exilic Judaism).

8. Oligotheist. This religion worships a small group of divine beings, who may function for devotional or rhetorical purposes as a single entity (e.g., Mormonism, Smartism).

9. Monogenic polytheism/Henotheism. This religion worships many gods, which it sees as proceeding from or owing their existence to, a single underlying or overarching force or supreme god (e.g., many forms of Hinduism).

10. Heterogenic polytheism. This religion worships many gods, who have diverse origins and/or natures. Though the number of gods is in practical terms probably unlimited, gods are discrete entities or personalities, i.e., they are "countably infinite" (e.g., many polytheistic traditions).

11. Animism. This religion worships many gods which may or may not be discrete entities, and which may or may not be innumerable even in principle, i.e., they are "uncountably infinite" (e.g., many animist traditions).

What counts as a god is naturally a bit of a judgement call, as is exactly where a religion falls on this scale.

Elaborateness of practice is based on assigning one point per feature from the following list of features:

Uses vs forbids accompanied music in worship

Saints or intermediary beings accept prayers/devotion

Liturgical calendar with specific rituals or festivals

Practices monasticism

Venerates relics or holy objects

Clerics have special, elaborate clothing

Clerics have special qualificiations, e.g., must be celibate or must go through elaborate initiation/training

Elaborate sacred art or architecture used in places of worship

Sites of pilgrimage, or other form of cult centralization

Sophisticated religious hierarchy beyond the congregational level

Mandatory periods of fasting and/or complex dietary rules

Specific clothing requirements for laypeople

Specific body modifications either required or forbidden for laypeople

Liturgical language

Complex ritual purity rules

Performs sacrifice

Performs human sacrifice (or cannibalism)

Uses entheogens

Uses meditation or engages in mystical practice

Additionally, a point is taken away for austerity for each of the following features:

Forbids secular music outside worship

Claims sola scriptura tradition

Practices pacifism or ahimsa

Requires vegetarianism of all adherents

These scores are probably pretty inexact, since I am not a scholar of world religion.

This chart is not scientific, it's just a goof based on that @apricops post.

Other fun dimensions along which to chart religions might be:

Orthodoxy vs orthopraxy

Authoritarianism/control of members. This would add some much needed distinctions to Christian sects in particular, and to the new religious movements.

Elaborateness of cosmological claims. Some religions (looking at you, Buddhism) really go hog-wild here.

Social egalitarianism. Even within the same framework/tradition/philosophy, some practices differ radically on how egalitarian they are.

[devilishtm]

content warning : this post is intended for eighteen+ audiences. these are twitter links that contain porn videos, not fics! viewer discretion is advised.

sucking off dom!chris ( contains an instance of smacking )

chris sneaking into your room to fuck you ( contains light choking )

chris worshipping your pussy

creampies with chris

desperate chris couldn't even make it to the bedroom

camping trip with chris

chris worshipping your body

sunday morning sex with chris

gentle chris eating you out

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fanfic #devilishtm

[planete777]

getting high with lando and u somehow end up on his lap and u kinda accidentally grind down on him and he moans and says that feels rlly good and ur just like yeah? and u end up riding him

I WANNA RIDE・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, getting high (as per), p in v unprotected sex (practise safe sex guys!!), semi public sex, riding, a little bit of body worship, high!lando x reader being hot (as per pt. 2)

NOTE. anon prbly wanted this as a small thought post, but i had to write a proper fic coz planete.exe 404 error: BRAINROTTING! so plz enjoy my first ever smut (sorry if it sucks i tried), and remember, don't get high!! or do wtv u please.... ok bye 🫶

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc about high!lando 🤍

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

all in the name of needed getaways, y/n and lando find themselves in the aforementioned's car, basking just behind the local park, where the sunset could perform best. clocks are just shy of 7pm, the wind a couple of degrees cooler than hours prior, and sitting in their adjacent seats with doors wide open, both lando and y/n have lit and inhaled their spliffs by second nature.

lando's beyond glad that the vehicle is out of plain sight, veiled by thick trees and bushes, because he was completely struck, dazed with not a thought in mind, and the sight would make a journalist's field day. yet, it's the thrill that keeps him flippant to all seriousness and discretion. the presence of y/n, uncaring and completely liberal in nature, gives him a second identity to just let it all go and succumb to the skewed vision and thrumming fingertips.

seats reclined by a bit, lando's foot rests just below the dashboard, y/n the same but with both instead, and lando can't feel a thing.

it's light conversation that carries the mood, punctuated by the aux that y/n has complete control over, and the rest of the world simmers away as they let the high take them before the ombres of the sky. it gets chiller, and it knocks y/n into partial sobriety slamming her side of the door shut.

"shut the door, lan', it's fucking cold now."

he groans, "nah, can't move."

he hears her sigh, mumbling a disappointed 'dickhead' beneath her breath, and he smiles before zoning out again. a few seconds of shuffling commences, then weighted friction lands so heavily on his thighs that it excavates a vehement puff of air out of him, red eyes snapping open. he can't say anything, not when y/n leans to grab the door shut and grinds on him with so much force that it has to be intentional.

lando knows he accomodated a semi throughout the whole car ride. something about seeing his best friend in her element turns him on so much that he could probably cum untouched.

but now, he feels too much, there's pressure on his dick, accompanied by warmth only y/n could emanate, and the moan that flies out of him rumbles in his chest.

"fuck, that feels good."

y/n freezes as she settles again, but then she's smirking, and no matter how more shut than open his eyes are, he can see it blatantly.

"yeah?" her voice sounds light and airy, and it runs lando mad.

"mhm." his chest is heaving up and down with a quickened velocity, and he feels far from being at the peace he was just seconds before.

the girl leans in, lips tracing along the skin of his neck with a phantom touch, and lando can feel every single inch of his resolve melt away. his hands rest on her hips, teasing a slip beneath her hoodie, and he squeezes, hard.

she goes higher, and higher, stopping at his ear, "let me ride you."

then it's all gone. composure complete in lack, his hand reaches up to her nape and slams her lips against his for a gratifying kiss. his eagerness is matched instantaneously, y/n combing her hands through lando's curls and tugging so hard that he nearly fears that some would rip out of their roots.

nothing amounts to the all encompassing sensation of y/n everywhere. her grinding turns more frantic, and he pushes her down hastily, hands crawling upon the skin of her back.

"get your dick in me, lan'," she says, with no room for more words, and he does just that, welding their lips together again as he fumbles with the knot of his joggers.

y/n finds a way to free herself of her hoodie, leaving her in nothing but her bra, and lando, pushing down to free his hard, aching dick, expresses his distaste for that.

"take it off, y/n."

she's smirking, and lando's losing it even more, "what? you're gonna suck them out here?"

he almost finds it offensive that she doesn't think he'll worship her anywhere. public be fucking damned, he'd be at her mercy whenever he could.

"and you'll fucking love it."

"damn right."

just as she unclips her bra, she grabs lando's dick, and, unprecedentedly, sheaths herself in.

everything is hot. god, he can't do anything but moan and moan again, shutting his eyes and going completely limp. it doesn't deter y/n, in fact, her wet, tight cunt squeezes and grinds upon lando's dick without mercy and the pleasure that soars through him burns and tickles.

"oh fuck fuck fuck," lando's mouth rains profanities, and as he goes to open his eyes, y/n moans and they roll back shut again. he's red all over, feels his t-shirt sticking to his skin with sweat, and the girl keeps on bouncing and grinding. he can't survive with it on, and so he yanks it off, coming skin-to-skin with y/n's naked chest.

"fuck lan'."

she can say nothing more, and neither can he, his hips thrusting upwards to meet hers. she lets out a high pitched moan, and lando's ears ring as he brings his hands up to cup her breasts. they fill them so perfectly, and his mouth waters like it aches for honey, attaching it to her left nipple and sucking it like he was running mad. he's drunk off her essence, a complete goner, and y/n throws her head back as her grinds slow down.

"feels so fucking good."

she's so deep in euphoria that she's on the verge of tears, and lando decides to let himself do the work, grabbing her hips and grinding upwards frantically.

the car smells sharply of sex, humid and steaming up the windows, and y/n hazily complements the scent with a drag of weed, eyes rolling back, and mouth puffing out pouts of smoke and moans. she feels the knot tighten in her gut and her toes curl just as lando sloppily licks wet kisses up her chest and neck, then into her mouth.

the kiss is barely one, filled with clashing teeth and the exchange of sighs, but lando keeps their mouth attached, sneaking a hand into hers to steal the spliff. y/n lets him, jaw slackened and too tired to engage in the tangle of tongues either.

"fuck, i'm cumming— shit shit shit!"

"cum with me y/n, cum on my dick," lando slurs out, taking the roll into his mouth before inhaling and exhaling the white smoke. his dick spasms sporadically, sensitive and completely throbbing as he spurts right into y/n's cunt, feeling her own coat and pool at the base of his dick.

they can barey ride down their high, exhausted and completely satiated, and all y/n can do is rest her head on lando's shoulder, rubbing her hands up and down his chest as he does the same.

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando #lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris scenarios #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #f1 smut

[risuola]

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN

In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

cw: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

series masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

» PART FOUR

taglist: @yihona-san06 , @tiredscavengerskeleton , @son4aras , @vixorell , @cecesharktales , @isleqt , @thickmacandcheese, @captainchrisstan, @bbylime, @sad-darksoul, @shartnart1, @kiki17483, @grimreaqueer, @phoenix-eclipses, @fan-of-encouragement, @valleydoll, @aleeeeeeees-stuff, @marifujioka, @going-to-californiaxx, @just-pure-trash, @edenofeve, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @thigh-o-saur, @heyohalie, @matchat3a, @bubblearts, @littlemisspropaganda, @aconstructofamind, @lawislife18, @rzcnlb, @sunukissed

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #ryomen #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #sukuna mafia boss #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna smut

[katelynnwrites]

Still Worship This Love (Even If It’s A False God) | Laura Freigang

warnings: some serious smut so read at your own discretion

word count: 4004

summary: your girlfriend gets her turn to take an intimate set of photos

a/n: requested, the long awaited part two to Got Lovestruck (Went Straight To My Head), it can also be read as a standalone :)

Your girlfriend’s possessive.

You’ve known that from the very beginning of your relationship.

The extent of which you’re only just starting to find out.

‘My girlfriend.’ She introduces every chance she gets.

She holds your hand everywhere you both go and if her hand is not in yours, it’s in your back pocket. The blonde makes it known to your mutual friends, teammates and fans that you are hers.

The hickies she marks you up with makes it known to everyone else.

None of that is new.

What is new is the way Laura’s got you in her national team jersey and nothing else.

Freigang is the name prominently displayed on the back. Her number is printed there too.

‘Look at the camera.’ She instructs.

You do as she asks and she presses the shutter button down.

The Polaroid camera spits the film out and the striker hums in satisfaction. She sets it aside, fixing her gray blue eyes on you again.

‘Spread your knees for me.’

You’re helpless to resist her, parting your legs and giving her exactly what she wants.

The striker snaps another photo, the click of the camera making a rush of arousal shoot through your body.

‘Lau.’ You moan and she smirks.

‘You’re so wet. Is it because of me?’

Your cheeks flush red and the blonde laughs, settling her camera down for a moment.

She tilts your chin upwards, pressing her lips onto yours for a moment.

‘Don’t tease Laura. It’s not very nice.’ You pant when she pulls away.

The blonde looks even cockier than before, if at all possible.

You think you fall even harder for her when she says, ‘I love you like this. So beautiful and just for me.’

She gives you one more heated kiss before returning to her Polaroid camera and snapping a close up of your soaking cunt.

‘Laura.’ You moan.

Under her watchful gaze, you squirm on the bed.

Back in her usual position as the one in charge, she is content to make you wait.

Until you physically can’t anymore, begging, ‘Lau please.’

Your girlfriend quirks her eyebrow upwards, ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Touch me please. Please Laura please.’

You fight the urge to play with your own clit, having been explicitly told by your girlfriend not to. She had wanted to take photos of how wet you are first.

Laura snaps another photo, relishing in how desperate you look.

‘But why? You’re practically dripping already and I haven’t even touched you yet.’

‘Please.’ You whimper and it is the way your voice fractionally breaks that has the German woman giving in.

Carefully putting her camera aside, she swings her leg over your body and grinds down.

You groan immediately, at the feel of her hips pressing against yours.

The blonde grins and palms your breast through the material of her jersey, causing you to whimper.

Your nipples are sensitive and they rub up against the fabric. Laura seems to sense how pleasurable it feels for you because she repeats the action, getting you to whimper her name before deciding to switch things up.

Her fingers pinch your nipples, twisting and pulling them slightly so that you gasp sharply.

‘Laura.’ You moan.

Your girlfriend leans up to kiss you, murmuring, ‘You drive me crazy you know? The way you say my name. The noises you make when I fuck you.’

As she speaks, the blonde slips two of her fingers into you.

‘Laura!’ You cry out.

The blonde sounds entirely satisfied as she coos, ‘Just like that.’

She thrusts her fingers a few times, her thumb finding your clit as she sets up a good rhythm.

Your knees tremble and she keeps kissing you.

When she brushes up against that special spot inside you, you have to break the kiss in favour of gasping.

The forward is very capable of stealing the air right out of your lungs and she delights in proving that over and over again.

Laura pushes another finger into you, letting you feel the stretch. Her thumb presses down on your swollen clit and she swallows your ensuing moan by capturing your lips with hers.

‘I want to try something. Can I try something new with you?’ She asks against your lips.

Your girlfriend sits back, giving you time to think.

It’s not unusual for the Eintracht Frankfurt player to bring kinks or toys into your relationship. She always makes sure you are comfortable beforehand and so far, you have been okay with everything she has wanted to try. You have loved it even, especially when it gives Laura pleasure.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath and when you do, you softly ask, ‘What do you have in mind?’

The blonde hesitantly bites her lip before going into the bathroom and returning with a small bag.

She hands it to you and you glance at her with some confusion, ‘Schatz?’

‘Look inside.’

So you do, a small surprised exhale leaving you.

To check if they really are what you think they are, you tip the contents of the bag out onto your palm.

Coloured glass butt plugs. In a variety of sizes and all with two initials embossed on them. The letters L and F, Laura’s initials.

‘Want to fill you up. To make you so full for me.’

You shiver at your girlfriend’s words. There is no denying how appealing that idea is to you.

It’s clear as day in how you practically beg, ‘Yes. Please Lau fill me up. Make me yours.’

The blonde moans, ‘Fuck you’re so good to me. So good for me.’

She can’t resist picking up her Polaroid camera and taking a photo of you, catching precisely how needy you look.

‘We’ll start small okay?

Laura selects the littlest of the plugs, a little pink one.

As she coats it liberally in lube, she gently says, ‘Remember to use your safe word if it becomes too much. The second it becomes too much, you let me know and we’ll stop.’

You nod quickly, completely focused on the delicate motions of your girlfriend’s fingers.

It’s almost mesmerising and the heat between your legs pool.

The German woman finishes what she’s doing and then easily slips back into her role of being in charge.

‘Get on your stomach for me.’

You obey immediately, the muscles in your ass tensing involuntarily.

Laura hands you a pillow to prop your head up against.

Despite her dominance, your girlfriend can’t help showing how deeply she cares.

She presses a kiss onto your back and then carefully runs her index finger up from your clit and through your crack.

The striker feels your gathered wetness coat her skin and it’s a lot but not enough for what she wants to do to you.

So she squeeze a generous portion out of lube onto her palm, letting the substance warm for a few seconds before she spreads it between your ass cheeks.

You can’t help the gasp that escapes, already so sensitive to the blonde’s touch.

She massages it in and you whine.

You need her in you and you need it now.

‘Schatz.’ You plead.

Laura grins and takes pity on you, pressing the plug against your ass.

You still immediately, the penetration overwhelming your senses for a minute.

Clenching around the glass plug experimentally, you find that you don’t mind the intrusion. In fact, as you squeeze around it again and again, you realise that you rather like it.

Your girlfriend gives you a minute to adapt, occupying herself by pushing her jersey upwards and scattering kisses onto your now exposed back.

‘I’m good Lau.’ You breathe, giving her the go ahead to do whatever she has planned next.

Experimentally, the Eintracht Frankfurt player presses down on the plug.

You groan out loud, tightening around the toy.

The plug has a flared base and Laura tugs on it lightly, fucking you with it.

Your fingers grip onto the pillow and your thighs quiver at the pleasure.

‘You look so perfect like this.’ Laura praises, her own cunt beginning to flood with arousal.

There’s the familiar click of her camera and you moan again as you hear it.

‘Can you take a bigger one? Can you let me stretch your gorgeous ass out more?’

‘Yes!’ You eagerly answer.

With some difficulty, you relax enough for your girlfriend to pull the toy out. It comes free with a wet noise that has you blushing a bright red.

Laura resists the urge to chuckle, instead opting for, ‘Don’t move.’

She looks over her plugs and her hand hovers over them before she picks out a blue one. This one is two sizes bigger and you give a quiet whimper as you see the one she’s chosen.

‘I said stay still. Or I won’t let you come.’

Right away, you turn back around.

Trembling with anticipation, you bite your lip as you wait for her to spread lube over the glass butt plug.

Laura takes her time, noting that the suspense seems to be making you more aroused.

She snaps a quick photo before putting her camera and the developing film aside.

With both hands free, she spreads your ass cheeks apart, placing the blunt head of the toy against your hole.

It’s much thicker than the one before but with the copious amounts of lube and steady pressure, it begins to slip inside you.

Your tight ring of muscle has to stretch to accomodate the plug and the burn has you groaning Laura’s name.

‘Full. So full.’ You pant when it’s halfway in.

The blonde pauses. The plug is certainly bigger than the previous one but she had thought you could take it, given how easily you had taken the earlier one.

Realising why your girlfriend is stalling, you assure her, ‘Don’t stop Lau. Feels nice too, I promise.’

Your pussy is aching when Laura resumes applying a firm pressure to the plug.

She’s slow about it but eventually, it slips in.

You cry out as it does and the striker heaps praise onto you.

‘You look so beautiful. In my jersey and made so full by me. I love my initials in you.’

The last part has you moaning, ‘Am yours. Always will be.’

Laura moans herself, ‘You don’t know what you’re doing to me.’

Her fingers play with the plug in you, each nudge eliciting a whimper or whine from your lips.

It builds up and the blonde smiles knowingly. She relishes in it, knowing that you are coming close to your climax.

She is proven right shortly, when you choke out, ‘Please may I come?’

The movement of the plug in you has you on the edge and you intentionally clench around it.

Instead of deigning to reply to you, Laura presses her palm harshly against the base of the plug.

It forces it deeper into you and you sob, entirely taken by surprise.

There is no describing the sort of sensory input that rushes through your body. Your clit pulses and the muscles in your ass flutter around the toy involuntarily.

Tears form in your eyes and your fingers grip onto the pillow desperately.

‘Laura. Laura. Laura.’ You mumble hazily, lost in the influx of sexual gratification.

Vaguely, you register the clicking of a camera.

It continues for a few minutes until your girlfriend’s attention returns to you and she gives the butt plug a brief wiggle, eliciting a wrecked moan from you.

Your moaning grows in volume when the German woman moves her fingers to your clit, drawing firm circles on it.

‘Stunning. You’re so stunning.’

Laura slips her two of her fingers into you and your ensuing cry is so loud that your girlfriend is glad that the neighbours are away.

She stops playing with your butt plug just to briefly pinch her own clit. It’s beyond swollen and Laura thinks she could come just from hearing you moan her name.

The striker scissors her fingers in you, the double stretch causing you to arch your back.

Laura groans at the feel of you around her fingers. She can feel your walls trembling around them and from experience knows that you’re close to coming a second time.

She pushes both the butt plug and her fingers in deeper, timing her thrusts perfectly so that they form an almost punishing rhythm for you.

You’re unconsciously rocking your hips back and forth, trying to meet your girlfriend’s thrusts to gain the most pleasure out of her actions.

The blonde can’t help adding a third finger, your cunt practically dripping for her.

‘Lau!’ You choke out.

‘Fuck you look so beautiful.’ The striker breathes.

She’s sure you are a work of art. The light sheen of sweat on your body has got her jersey sticking to your skin, both your pussy and ass a mess because of your copious arousal and Laura’s generous use of lube.

Your girlfriend knows heaven’s a thing. She goes there when she touches you.

The specific noises you make, the facial expressions you have when you orgasm…she is confident that only she can draw them from you.

She is in love with worshipping you. Your hips, your lips, everything about you.

The Eintracht Frankfurt player is drawn out of her reverie by the strained moan of her name, accompanied by your uncontrolled clenching around her fingers and toy.

‘Going to come. Please schatz.’ You beg.

Laura smirks. You’re right where she wants you.

‘No.’

You still in a desperate effort to obey her.

But you can’t stop her from teasingly stroking your puffy bud with her thumb. It’s almost too much, pushing you to the brink of your control.

‘Laura please.’ You beg, knowing better than coming without her permission.

Especially when she is in such a dominant mood.

‘No. You won’t come until I am finished with my photos.’

She slips her fingers out of you, eliciting a pitiful whimper.

The German woman is abundantly aware of the way your cunt pulses around nothing, having been stretched open by her.

‘Be good.’ She warns as she picks up her camera once again.

You focus on your breathing, on the pillow beneath your chin. On anything but Laura’s fingers skimming over your skin.

There’s the tell tale click of her Polaroid camera, followed by a whirring sound as it spits out the film.

Your girlfriend takes a particularly close one, wanting to focus on her initials embossed on the plug inside you.

To her, it is a worthy investment and it crosses her mind that she might have to make more similar ones.

The thought of using a new dildo or vibrator on you, with her name on it is an enticing one.

‘Get on your hands and knees.’ She instructs suddenly.

Gingerly, you do as she asks. Not because you’re unwilling too but rather because you’re hyper focused on the movement of the plug within you.

You are so sensitive and as you move, it sends little jolts of pleasure up your spine.

The base of the toy fits snugly against the rim of your hole and Laura can’t help twisting it sharply, just so she can capture the look on your face as she does so.

With a simple press of the shutter button, it’s done and the forward gets to savour your ruined expression as it develops.

‘Please Lau. Please.’ You beg shamelessly.

Your girlfriend hums, ‘Help get me off first.’

Her blue gray eyes meet yours and you nod rapidly.

‘Sit up. I want to come on your thigh.’

You let out a moan, changing positions so that you’re seated on the edge of the bed.

‘Fuck.’ You gasp, as the plug drives into you.

Your chest heaves as you struggle to push the sensations away. Laura said not to come so you can’t.

The cocky look on your girlfriend’s face lets you know that she had planned for it.

She kisses you, her hands cradling your face before she sits herself down on your thigh.

You both moan, the blonde immediately beginning to rub her clit up and down.

‘You’re so good to me.’ She mumbles, when you brace your hands against her hips and tense your muscles so that she has a firmer surface to stimulate herself against.

Laura’s swollen clit is exquisitely compressed by your thigh and she holds onto your shoulders, panting, ‘Feel so good against me too.’

Her motions grow more frantic and you leave little love bites on her chest, nipping and kissing her delicate skin.

Your fingers dig into her hips as you hold her steady and the striker cries out when you suck one of her nipples into your mouth.

You swirl your tongue around it till it stiffens. Then you repeat the process on her other nipple.

Your girlfriend groans as you do so, her arousal coating your thigh.

There is so much of it and Laura’s breathing begins to grow shaky. Her grip on your shoulders tighten and she lets out a soft grunt as she works to reach her climax.

‘Are you close?’

‘Almost!’ She pants.

You smile, pushing the blonde’s sweaty hair aside to gain access to her neck.

There, you place lingering kisses and whisper about how much you love her, how much you love her riding your thigh until she sucks in a harsh breath.

Your striker trembles through her orgasm and drops her head down on your shoulder.

She’s clearly tired so you help her out, nudging your thigh upwards so that her swollen clit gets extra friction.

It works, the forward moaning your name as she keeps rolling her hips onto your thigh.

Laura lets out a quiet whimper as the last of her high crashes down on her and you lean in to kiss her.

She initiates a second kiss by grabbing the collar of her jersey and pulling you even closer.

When the German woman breaks the kiss, her pretty eyes meet yours for a second before smiles and gets up.

‘Schatz?’

With the distraction of the Eintracht Frankfurt player's soaking pussy off your thigh, you’re now very much conscious of your own arousal.

Laura’s smile turns almost arrogant.

‘On your hands and knees for me.’

The plug within you shifts as you move and you fight the urge to play with it yourself.

‘Lau.’ You exhale shakily once you are in the position she asked of you.

‘My good girl.’ She praises, taking in the way your pink bud is still swollen.

Her gaze never leaves you as she states, ‘You know, I think my last name suits you very well.’

The former Penn State player allows herself another long moment to truly admire you in her jersey before she slips her finger between your folds.

You react beautifully and it’s to both your surprise when your build up comes much faster than usual.

Laura chalks it up to the long time you have spent suppressing your orgasm while you don’t even think about it, far too occupied with how your girlfriend’s attention has drifted to the butt plug.

She runs her fingers over her initials and then firmly tugs on it.

‘Laura!’ You moan and she continues manipulating it with one hand, the other slipping into your other hole.

She has two fingers knuckle deep inside you and she pushes them into you, over and over again.

‘You’re doing so well for me. Letting me stretch you open, letting me use you.’

The thoroughly sinful noise that escapes you at her words, has the forward savouring it and the rush of wetness that promptly coats her fingers.

She thinks you’ve come for a second but the way you begin to beg proves otherwise.

‘So close Lau. I gotta come, please can I come?’

Then she realises that you must really like being told how both your holes are being fucked by her.

She can’t help slipping a third finger into you as a reward.

‘Laura…’ You choke out.

You barely manage to stay on your hands and knees, your arms nearly giving out beneath you.

‘I need to come Lau. Please I-I can’t hold it.’

It’s so much, the constant waves of pleasure that your girlfriend delights in giving you.

As if to prove your point, the blonde curls her fingers inside you and you make a distressed whimper, your walls squeezing around her fingers uncontrollably.

Laura presses down hard on your butt plug and your clit.

‘Come then.’

You sob, unable to keep yourself on your knees this time.

Crying messily, you collapse onto the bed.

The striker keeps pumping her fingers in and out of you, intrinsically drawing out your climax for as long as she can until you reach behind and tap on her wrist frantically.

‘Too sensitive.’ You pant.

Laura gently withdraws her fingers immediately, placing delicate little kisses all over your back.

While your breathing settles, your girlfriend gets her camera out and uses the last of her film to capture the fucked out bliss on your face.

‘Absolutely beautiful.’ She murmurs as she looks through the viewfinder.

Then she keeps the Polaroid camera away properly and turns her full attention to you.

‘Are you okay baby?’

You’re still panting but you turn onto your side, smiling tiredly up at Laura.

‘Completely perfect.’

The blonde presses an affectionate kiss onto your forehead.

‘Roll over and tuck your knees up.’ She gently instructs.

It’s not easy because your body is sore but you manage.

Your girlfriend lightly taps on your ass, ‘Bear down for me.’

Groaning quietly, you try to get your muscles to cooperate.

Laura sees you struggling and grasps the plug carefully, pulling on it.

You gasp at the oversensitivity and strain harder, forcing the butt plug to finally slip out of you.

‘Good job.’ She praises, taking it and setting all the used toys aside to be cleaned.

Truly exhausted now, you flop down and starfish yourself out on the bed.

The striker grins, leaning over you and kissing you.

‘Ich liebe dich.’ She murmurs against your lips.

‘I love you too.’ You promise.

Full of adoration, your girlfriend brushes sweaty strands of hair out of your face.

‘Do you want me to run you a bath? Or just clean you up with a warm washcloth?’

‘Washcloth please schatz. I think I’d fall asleep in the bath.’ You laugh.

Laura giggles, sneaking in another kiss.

‘Washcloth it is then.’

******

The German woman knows she can be silly and possessive. Even after the night you've shared, she can’t help the immense self-satisfaction that swells within her as she watches you.

You’re wearing her hoodie, eating breakfast that she made, in her bed, with hickeys she has generously marked you up with.

‘Lau.’ You amusedly tease, eyeing her knowingly.

‘I can’t help it.’ She shrugs with pink tinted cheeks.

Chuckling, you get her to settle down next to you.

‘Eat schatz.’

‘No. No. I made it for you.’ She protests.

The smile on your face grows bigger, the kind of smile that you reserve just for Laura.

‘We can share. Come on, you know I can’t finish all these eggs and fruit.’

With a fond roll of her eyes, your girlfriend gives in.

She lets out a contented sigh as she chews on the mouthful of eggs that you feed her.

Thoughtfully, she says, ‘I’m a brilliant cook.’

‘A brilliant photographer too.’ You add, suddenly growing shy at the thought of the photos the blonde had taken of you.

They’re kept safely by her now, just like your set of hers are by you.

Completely sure of what’s on your mind, your girlfriend uses a finger to delicately tilt your face towards her.

‘Only when I have the most beautiful of subjects.’ She whispers.

There’s no hiding how intense your blush is after that and Laura giggles brightly, planting small kisses all over your face. Just to convey how incredibly much she loves you.

German Translations:

schatz - sweetheart

ich liebe dich - i love you

#this is completely not proofread so i apologise if there are any mistakes #laura freigang x reader #laura freigang imagine #laura freigang #dfb frauen #gerwnt #woso #woso community #woso oneshot #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #eintracht frankfurt frauen #katelynnwrites

[rafesveryrealgf]

imagine mean!rafe who secretly pretty much worships the ground you walk on. He thinks hes being so discrete but most people can tell hes fucking whipped when you’re around.

ahhh yesss!!

just imagining all the things he does for you that he’d never do for anyone else 😭 you’re both at a party and you ask him to go get you a drink? he’s already on it. he’s also holding your purse for you because you were complaining about holding it yourself. other times he’s holding your drink in one hand and shoes in the other when you’re too tired to wear them, following you around like a lost puppy. and he’s not complaining!! when topper and kelce witness this you already know they’re calling his ass a simp and teasing him for being pussy whipped. but also when you’re at a bonfire with rafe and you’re cold (rafe told you to bring a jacket btw) and you’re rubbing your hands up and down your arms to warm them up, rafe is rolling his eyes and saying “i told you to bring a jacket.” while also taking off his jacket to give it to you.

#thots #rafe thots #outerbanks #obx #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafecameron #rafe cameron x you #outerbanks rafe

[aajjks]

Bed, with your name on it! (M)

from the bunny koo saga!

anon request: headcanon of bunny!koo as a boyfriend? like y/n finally agreed to get into a relationship with him (if you don't mind, headcanon of what he's like in bed too?

warnings: smut, kissing, extreme yandere behaviour, mentions of oral sex (f receiving), marking, noona kink, scent kink, unhealthy possessiveness, manipulation, WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!!!!! mentions of baby trapping, breeding kink.

disclaimer. This is purely fictional & does not represent the real bts or jeon jungkook irl, this is extremely toxic so please do not romanticise this behaviour at all, I don’t condone this behaviour and viewer discretion is advised!

Yandere hybrid bunny jungkook as your boyfriend? I pity you.

You don’t know how you agreed to become his girlfriend in the first place. Maybe it was his begging eyes or the way he loved you so much.

He is overwhelmingly loving, sweet and caring. Maybe in a normal sense? It’s the perfect recipe for the perfect boyfriend? But in your case? It’s the ultimate nightmare.

Well, they do say that too much sweetness can be deadly,

He is the best, in every aspect, jungkook is obsessed with you, his dream girl, his noona.

He is loyal, an amazing lover, he is so dedicated to loving you, but you’d think it’s the insecurities that push him to try so hard.

He is so insecure, scared about loosing you, Jungkook trembles at the thought of loosing you, it’s hard to calm him down or reassure him.

He’s needy, dangerously so. 

You love him, you really do but Jungkook is simply obsessed with you, that’s the problem.

You can’t breathe without him breathing down your neck, he’s super affectionate, he will shower you in a 1000 kisses and will demand you do the same.

He is a very horny person, you look at him? He’s hard.

It’s hard for him to control himself, Jungkook is weak, and helpless. You are too gorgeous for him, he could look at you forever and he wouldn’t blink one time,

He hates himself for being so horny all the times, he’s closing his eyes? He’s fucking you. It’s all he thinks about, even in his dreams, he’s disgusting and lewd. Jungkook wants to be good for you and please you.

He really wants to please you so you can never even think of leaving him. He just wants to be yours.

So that’s why he’s always kissing your neck or playing with your chest because it calms him down, the fear bubbling inside him threatens to burst but as soon as he makes contact with your soft supple skin? He’s melting inside.

His legs feel so shaky whenever he’s eating you out, he’s careful, so gentle, and he feels so good pleasuring so much that it makes your mind go blank.

“Noona you taste s-so sweet! Could eat you out forever, I could die between your legs!”

It drives him insane, he wants to imprint himself into you, he can’t help it, he’s possessive. He will mark you, his teeth sink into your skin so easily as he nibbles hard enough to leave a red mark, he’s so proud of his marks all over your body.

He will make you mark him as well.

“Mark me noona, please! They can’t take me away from you!”

He’s very rough, but gentle at the same time, he’ll pound into you so hard that will mage you see the whole galaxy, how does he find your it spot so easily?

He’s obsessed with your body, your scent. He will inhale you 24/7 like a dog, he wants to smell like you but he wants you to smell like him.

He is a long kisser, he will kiss you at every minute he can. He’s a good kisser, incredibly good, he knows how to take your breath away, literally.

He loves it when your nails scratch his back so hard, your nails fic so deep into his flesh that it bleeds, he wants you to ruin him, make him bleed and cry out in ecstasy.

“Feels s-so good noona, j-jus’like that, fuck!”

Intimacy with him is so important, he worships you and your body, he makes you feel so loved, so incredibly special.

“My noona is the prettiest, your arms, your legs, your face… everything about is so perfect noona? Let me love you please.”

Jungkook wants to get you pregnant that’s why he is so good at convincing you to ditch your birth control so he can begin his process.

He often fantasises about you becoming pregnant with his child, you’d look even more radiant and irresistible, your glowing face, your swollen stomach, your swollen legs and arms.

God, he could die to see it becoming a reality, he’ll be so good to you,

Just like he is always, your good boy. Your good and only boyfriend.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #jeongguk smut #jeongguk x reader #jungkook x reader #hybrid bts #hybrid!bts #hybrid!jungkook #hybrid jungkook #yandere smut #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #bts yandere #jungkook x yn #jungkook ff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bangtan smut #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #hybrid jjk #jjk x reader

[angelkissiies]

nectar of angels

abby anderson x reader

cw : modern!au , church girl!abby , church girl!reader , dom!abby , sub!reader , religious imagery , blasphemy , corruption kink , religious guilt , purity culture (mentioned) , god / power kink , oral ( r ! receiving ) , probably more ?? read at your own discretion !

wc : 3.2K

Her leg bounced restlessly, hymn book almost completely forgotten, as she stared at the cross decorating the altar. It was hot, the heat of the sun burning her skin as it filtered through the panes of colored mosaic, making her shift uncomfortably as she tried to keep her eyes off of you. Something about the sweat tempting her brow made her instinctively tense her fists, the rolling sensation taking her back to the feeling of your core pulsing around her fingers. She was too far gone, the words of her father passing through her, body occupied with an untameable craving. 

“Abigail?” The man beside her whispered, a sharp edge in his voice as he craned his neck to speak to her– eyes still trained on the man pacing behind the altar. 

She froze, hands coming to attention in her lap. “Yes, sir?” She murmured, slowly angling her face away from the floor to take him in. It was one of her father's friends, a man she saw around often. Moore, she thought his last name was– not that it mattered because the scorn set in his face was enough to make her wither away on the spot. 

He tore his eyes from the preacher, steely gaze landing on the blonde. “You are being distracting, Abigail, you should know better.” He berated, the grip he had on his bible tensing, narrowing his eyes as he took her in. “What is wrong with you, girl?” 

Abby straightened up in her seat, shaking her head as she tried to make herself smaller in his lingering gaze. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m just feeling rather plagued by the spirit today.” She hummed, clearing her throat slightly as she spoke. “God is speaking to me.” Her thoughts shot back to you. The tender flesh of your breasts in her hands, the cries for God you’d released into her mouth, the angelic halo of ecstasy on your face– it was hungry work to be as devout as she was. The only God she’d ever come to know sitting across the aisle, begging for her worship, it took everything in her to not give in. 

“Is that so?” 

She nodded quickly, taking a shallow breath, crossing her legs to dull the growing ache in her cunt. She knew how devious her thoughts were, she’d spent many restless nights begging for God to take them away, but she’d come to realize that this must have been God’s will. He wouldn’t give her something so beautiful and expect her not to satiate herself on the divinity. “Yes, sir.” Her voice cracked, a bead of sweat rolling down her temple. 

The man gave her a curt nod, relaxing back into his seat, eyes glued back to the preacher. It was unlike anyone to really give her much trouble, seeing as she was usually the star of the sermon– with her girlish looks and obedient soul, it was hard not to like her. So most would brush off her odd behaviors lately as the musings of a young girl, even though she had grown well beyond that of a child, now sitting at 20 years of age. To them, she was being crafted into the perfect wife. To her, she was being unshackled from the chains– her mind woven into one amassed of ‘deviant’ love for a woman. 

“That will be all for today.” Her father wrapped up his lecture, setting his bible down on the lectern with a loud thump. “My daughter, Abigail, will be staying to collect canned donations for the food bank– which is next week, in case anyone missed last week's flyers.” He smiled, moving a hand out to wave towards Abby– who looked lost for half a second before giving a small nod. “God bless you all.” 

The church immediately lit up with light chatter, the shuffling of feet sending Abby out of her seat and towards the doors. There was nothing she wanted more than to be out of there, her feet moving on autopilot as she took the stairs two at a time– almost falling when she met the carpet at the bottom. She took a second to catch her breath, hand shaking as it gripped the railing, at this point she had evaded anyone who possibly would have stolen her attention– leaving her to fight the growing heat in her cunt alone. 

“Shit.” She hissed, backing up to rest against the concrete wall of the stairwell. The cold seeped through the knit of her cardigan, erecting a small sigh fall from her lips. She was burning up, still, using the back of her hand to wipe away the beads of sweat collecting at the nape of her neck. You were like a fever, coursing through her body and setting off alarm bells, sweating her out of her faith. 

The sound of the door swinging open made her jump, quickly smoothing down her hair to appear more put together as she feigned busy. Her legs carried her over to the table in the corner, picking up the clipboard to gaze at as the person made their way down the steps. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears as she flipped the pages gingerly, not taking anything in. 

“Abby–,” You began, eyes cast on her turned figure, slowly stepping down off of the last stair. 

She spun around, an incredulous look on her face, letting the board clatter down onto the table. The growing fever cast a desperate haze over her, making her legs tremble slightly, the things she’d do to have her hands on you were too blasphemous to even think. The sight of you was too much, making her look away in shame. “What are you doing here?” She asked, glancing towards the side door– just in case anyone was close enough to hear. 

You let a small smile pull at your lips, hand still sitting on the railing, tilting your head at her avoidance. “I came to see you.” You stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, the golden cross necklace shifting further into the divide of your chest as you swung slightly on the metal pole. “I needed.. to ask you for something.”

The girl felt her heart drop into her stomach, urging her to look up at you. “W-what is it?” She spoke quietly, taking a small step away from the table as she allowed herself to really look at you. The soft pink and white of your floral skirt hid the curves of your hips, long white sleeves concealing your untroubled skin, cardigan protecting the virtues she longed for. You were so pure it hurt. She tried to get you out of her head but every glimpse of your body sent her over the edge, needing lessons in temptation from the devil himself before she’d ever be able to look at you without a burning lust. 

“I was wondering if you’d mind helping me out.” You hummed, releasing the railing as you took a couple steps toward her. From this distance, she could now see the tabbed bible poking out from under your other arm– making her press her thighs together. “The feeling... it’s back again.” You felt oddly nervous, shifting on your feet as your panties clung uncomfortably to your drooling cunt, you knew she could help– seeing as she’d done it before, just a few nights ago. You didn’t understand the feeling that bubbled in your tummy, only knowing that it was caused by the glimpses you’d caught of the girl before you– the image of her silken skin beneath her lacy skirt made a heat rush over you– it was unfamiliar, unlike anything you’d ever felt in the presence of a man. 

Abby’s breath caught in her throat, her hand coming to grip the edge of the table so hard she thought it might break. She felt dizzy, your words sending a pulse of need into her cunt, her eyes fluttering slightly as she tried to find the restraint to not take you right there, right now. “Y-yes, please.” She practically whined, kicking herself for how desperate she sounded. “I mean, yes. I will.” 

You giggled, rushing up to wrap your arms around the blonde, taking a deep breath as you squeezed her. “Thank you so much, you’re the best friend ever.” You said matter-of-factly, not noticing how her entire body tensed up. 

“Thanks,” She sighed, patience growing thin as she felt your breasts press into her, moving one arm to wrap around you gently. It was pure torture, temperature skyrocketing as she looked to the statue of Mary for advice– before rolling her eyes. She was a virgin, how could she help? “Would you do something for me?” 

You pulled back, nodding, doe eyes making her look away. “Of course, what do you need?” 

She knew better, she knew that this would be the thing that sent her to hell out of all things she found herself doing. It was a perfect sentence, just to taste the nectar of an angel, and she welcomed it. “Go check to make sure everyone is gone, lock the doors, and come back.” She instructed, her mind slipping from guilt to desire– no longer willing to beg for stronger resolve. “I can help you now, would you like that, angel?” 

You were immediately shuffling away, nodding vigorously as you took back steps towards the stairs. “Yes, ma’am, I'll be right back.” It was needed, the warmth in your panties soaking through to coat the inside of your thighs, making you practically run up the stairs. As you popped out from downstairs, you glanced around, feeling a familiar heat rise in your cheeks. She had called you angel again, something that hadn’t clicked until now, making you struggle to continue to breathe properly– eyes making a b-line for the cross in the middle of the room. You were just a girl, not an angel, but you couldn’t help feeling giddy at the status she’d given you in her eyes. 

Abby could’ve run after you, forcing you on your hands and knees before God and man alike, hands winding in your little skirt as she carnally hungered for the mere sight of your pretty cunt. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt, nothing compared to the softness of your walls and the warm arousal as it dripped down her hand– making her let out a soft groan at just the memory. She knew how fucked up this had to be, seeing as you didn’t understand the significance of allowing her to touch you like this, making a momentary shame wash over her. You were just a poor sheltered girl, one she needed in the most unholy way, unknowingly betraying your covenant to God. “Fuck.” She sighed, her tense grip on the table releasing as she took a small step away, pulling off her sweatshirt and dragging the sleeves of her black long-sleeved shirt up her forearms. 

You had checked every room upstairs, finding nobody hanging around, your mission coming to a halt at the front doors– fingers turning the lock into place before bounding back to the stairs, letting the door slam behind you as you took them two at a time. “I did it, there's nobody.” You affirmed, moving to the couch on the other side of the room, plopping yourself down before grabbing at the frills of your skirt– pulling them up hastily. “Now please, please? I can’t take it anymore.” You whimpered, the cold air of the basement hitting the soaked cotton of your panties. 

Abby fought back the moan that tempted her lips at the sight, your big doe eyes filled with frustration and the massive wet spot darkening the white fabric– making it almost completely see-through, giving her a borderline pornographic sight of your cunt. “God, what have you been thinking about?” She asked, coming to stand before you, eyes locked onto the desperation lacing your soft features. “What has you so worked up, angel?” She brought a knee up to the cushion between your legs, kneeling on it as she leaned down, her hand moving to caress the flush of your cheeks. 

“I can’t stop thinking..” You paused, biting your lip slightly as you angled your hips towards the tense muscle of her thigh. You didn’t want to stain her in the sin of your gaze, knowing it was born from a stolen glance into her privacy, making you close your legs around her knee. 

The girl cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing at your reaction. “About?” She prompted, her hand coming down to toy with the chain of your necklace, turning the golden cross in her fingers. The slight shake of your head made her click her tongue against her teeth, winding her fingers in the chain and yanking it towards her– cutting off your air as she bent down closer to your ear. “You wouldn’t deny me the chance to help you, would you?” Her tone was saccharine, practically dripping into your parted lips as you gave her a tiny nod, tears welling in your eyes. 

The chain loosened around your throat, making you gasp, chest heavy with big breaths as you peered up at her. “Can’t get the sight of you out of my head, Abby.” You confessed, a stray tear falling down your cheek. You were beyond ashamed of your reasons for needing her, seeing as it was caused by her, it seemed like some extremely cruel cycle of torture. “You–you’re so beautiful.” 

Abby felt her stomach twist, your words sinking into her heart as she looked up to God for help, the sentiment rolling into her cunt. She was long gone, there was no absolution for her now, hell called to her– and she was answering. She dropped onto her knees, peering up at you with hooded eyes. “Open, angel.” She instructed, using her now free hands to gently push your legs open– feeling the release of tension in your muscles as she did so. 

You sunk into the couch, her touch sending chills down your spine, a whine slipping from your lips. “I m-mean it.” You whispered, feeling her soft breath puffing against your inner thigh as she took the seeping wetness onto her tongue. It took every piece of restraint you had not to buck your hips towards her face, craving the feeling of her tongue. “Y’so beautiful, It makes me feel funny.” 

The girl groaned at the taste of you, hands navigating to the waistband of your panties– dragging them down effortlessly before tossing them over her shoulder. She was unstoppable at this point, your tiny mewls of need urging her to dip her head down and claim you as hers all over again but she resisted. Her hands moved to grip your hips, pulling you further down on the plush couch, now level with your cunt as it dripped arousal onto the ancient floral of her skirt. She took a deep breath, letting the divinity wash over her, before sinking down to lick a broad stripe over your cunt– taking her time as the rough pad of her tongue came to your clit. 

“A-abby..” You gasped, hands clenching the fabric of your skirt to contain your impulses, head falling back to rest against the cushion. The ache had spread, now sending goosebumps onto your velvety skin, nipples hardening at the sudden stimulation. “Oh, my God.” 

A snicker tempted her lips, but she muffled it as she used a hand to spread your sticky folds, tongue dipping down to trail over your puffy slit. Here you were, cunt out for her taking, still praying to God. Something inside of her longed to be your creator, your God. She wanted you to fall at her feet, kiss the ground she walked on, look at her like she hung the stars in the sky– but she would never admit that. It was blasphemous, as nobody could be God except the man himself, the last guy who tried got a worse sentence than hell. She would settle for being the sole source of your pleasure, I’d keep you running back to her, and that would work for now. She brought a hand up to swipe some slick from your soaked cunt, using her thumb to massage the swollen bud. “Manners.” She tutted as she brought her head up, just barely hovering over your heat. 

You panted slightly, the feeling just as overwhelming as you remembered it, screwing your eyes shut as you nodded. “M’sorry, ma’am.” You whimpered, not brave enough to look back to her as you felt her blowing icy air onto the sensitive bundle of nerves– your cunt clenching around nothing, making her chuckle darkly. 

She dipped her tongue back into the warmth of your folds, lapping up the messy arousal that had continued to seep from your slit– the muscle dipping in to press against your soft walls. It was so euphoric, the way you managed to get so wet for her, it was somewhat of an ego trip– if she was being honest. A moan slipped from her chest, the vibrations making you squeak in pleasure– hips shuddering away from her, as she dug her fingers into the soft skin, holding you in place. Of all the ways to be sinful, she thought this had to be the best one, squeezing her thighs together to control the pulsing your little noises sent through her. 

The sensation made you moan, a burning tension in your stomach as her fingers continued to work on your clit. You couldn’t help but chase the feeling, legs shuddering around her head as her tongue stuffed itself into your aching hole. “Oh, oh.” You breathed, eyes fluttering with the sheer force of the pleasure rolling over your body. You didn’t understand how something so simple could feel so good, the precision of her movements making your legs tense around her head– squeezing as you felt the tension grow harder to handle, hips bucking against her mouth. “Please, ma’am, please.” You begged, hand coming to grip her loose braid. 

Abby removed her tongue, more than satisfied with the reaction she was getting from you, moving her free hand to slip a single digit into your tight cunt. The walls instinctually clenching around it as she began to pump it in and out, curling it when she felt it come knuckle deep inside your heat. “You feel that, angel?” She asked, licking her lips. “Only I can make you feel like that, nobody else.” 

You nodded, tears springing in your eyes as her finger dug into the spongy spot in your cunt, your back arching off of the couch– borderline screams pulling from your mouth as you felt the burning course through your body, hips jerking as she continued to thrust– walking you through the familiar euphoria. “Oh God, Oh God.” You moaned through broken puffs of air, hands shaking from how tightly you were gripping, feeling your cunt release a gush of liquid onto her hand. 

“That’s right, angel, cry out to God.” Her voice was heavy, slowing her motions to a stop as she peered up at you from her place on her knees. “M’right here.” 

#giggles in church girl ! abby #dom ! church ! abby will be the death of me #church girl!abby #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abbyanderson #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby the last of us #abby anderson x y/n #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfic #the last of us #modern au #religious kink #corruption kink goes brrrrrrrr

[luminoustarlight]

Practice | Anakin Skywalker

Playing with Anakin's hair leads to you practicing your dominant side.

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc:  2.4k | read on ao3 warnings: fluff, SMUT [sub!ani, dom!reader (she's trying), blow jobs, ball sucking, ball/cock worship, p in v, creampie, inappropriate use of the force], ani comforting reader at the end <3

this is dedicated to my bestie who was talking about Anakin's fluffy hair and said "ugh make a fic where reader plays with his hair and it turns him on"

so... here you go :)

On any given night, when Anakin isn’t on a mission, it’s very likely he’s at your apartment. It’s too risky having you over at the Temple and his living quarters aren’t very spacious anyway. Anakin always says he feels most at home in your apartment. But it has nothing to do with where he’s at, it has everything to do with where you are. 

Now both relaxing on the couch after dinner, Anakin’s head is in your lap while you watch Pod Racing on the HoloTV. “D’you miss it?” 

“What?” Anakin mumbles. 

“Pod racing.” You begin combing your fingers through Anakin’s hair, getting any knots and tangles out of the waves. 

“Mmm,” he hums in contentment. “Sometimes. I don’t miss Tatooine…” 

“Or the sand,” you both say. 

Anakin smiles. “You know me so well.” 

“It’s not like you hide your hatred for sand, Ani.” You roll your eyes and tug at Anakin’s roots to tease him.

A visceral groan erupts from Anakin’s throat, which he quickly “covers up” with a cough. “Mhm, yeah, I know.” 

“You okay there, baby?” Your voice is as sweet as cinnamon— warm with a hint of spice. You know exactly how Anakin gets when you pull on his hair during sex. It drives him insane and normally drives his cock deeper and harder into your cunt. But you have other plans for him tonight.

Your nails dragging down his scalp are hypnotizing. Each time you reach the nape of his neck, you pull. It earns you a suppressed moan every time. Anakin is yanking at the material of his pants, already beginning to feel the uncomfortable tightness your touch always brings him. He thinks he’s being so discrete, pointing at the HoloTV, mumbling something about the race while adjusting his hard-on in his pants. 

“What’s the matter, honey? You getting hard just from me playing with your hair?” Your taunting voice doesn’t come out often but when it does, a different kind of desire stirs inside of Anakin. He welcomes your dominant side, even when he’s still working on being submissive. 

His dick is already throbbing so yes, he absolutely did get hard from you playing with his hair. “Ngh, yes.” 

With a fistful of his hair in your hand, you yank Anakin’s head so his eyes meet yours. He doesn’t quiet his moan this time. His receptiveness to your actions fills you with pride. You are the one he gives control to. You are the one who makes him vulnerable, needy, and eager for your touch. “Are you going to be a good boy tonight?” 

Anakin swallows. “Yes.” 

“Sit up,” you command. As Anakin lifts himself from your lap and his back is against the couch cushion, you get off the couch and settle between Anakin’s legs. “I might be on my knees for you but make no mistake, Anakin. I am in control tonight. No touching until I say it’s okay. Do you understand?” 

Maker. Anakin is burning for you. His cock jumps with anticipation, a wet stain of pre-cum seeping through not just his underwear, but his pants, too. With your tone and your commanding eyes, Anakin can’t help but fully submit. “Yes, I understand.” 

Oh, how his complacency makes your cunt ache. You rest your hands over Anakin’s strong thighs and he tenses under your touch. “Good,” you say, beginning a line of kisses on his leg. It’s a painfully slow path up to Anakin’s crotch. He’s sitting on his hands to keep from touching you, meager little whimpers falling from those pretty lips of his. When your mouth finally presses a firm kiss over his clothed length, Anakin can’t help but groan. 

“Please,” he begs. He wants to touch you, he wants your mouth, he wants anything more than just you kissing his cock with two layers of fabric between you. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to think through the pain in his groin. “Please, baby, please.” 

“Hmm?” you hum against him, sending a shrill of vibrations from Anakin’s cock down to his toes. You lay your head on his thigh, blinking up at him with fake oblivion. “Did you want something?” 

“You know I do,” Anakin answers frustratedly. Being a sub is hard for him sometimes. Okay, most of the time. But he tries for you and you appreciate it. He just needs to be put back in his place every now and again. 

You lift your head and frown, completely withdrawing your body from him as you stand. “Now, that’s no way to ask for something. I don’t think you deserve my mouth.” 

Anakin’s attitude immediately changes. He straightens his back before beginning his lament. “No, no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Please, angel. Please put your mouth on my cock.” 

“How badly do you want it?” 

Anakin groans, pulling at his pants again. “So badly, baby. Maker, I need your mouth or your hand— please. I’ll be good.” 

“Take off your pants, Ani.” 

As soon as those words leave your mouth, Anakin is fumbling with his waistband and removing his pants with haste. He’s so eager and careless, it almost makes you laugh. This desperate man is a far cry from the commanding General of the 501st. If only those boys could see General Skywalker now. Completely helpless and begging for you to pleasure him. 

With his cock free from its confinement, a small wave of relief washes over Anakin. You appease him, placing your hands back on his thighs and dragging the flat of your tongue along the underside of his dick. Anakin immediately moans beneath you. Each kiss you place on his length leaves Anakin in shambles. He’s so bloody impatient. He hates when you tease him but he knows it’s just you giving him a taste of his own medicine. Because he is the master of teasing. 

Still only using your mouth, you swirl your tongue over his leaking tip, nose brushing against his happy trail. You flick your tongue over his slit, which always makes him go crazy. He reactively bucks his hips up but you remove your mouth. Pinching his thighs, you scold him. “None of that. Be patient, Ani.” 

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles, cheek tucking into his shoulder. “Jus’ feels so good.” 

“I know, Ani.” You grab the base of him now, taking a moment to marvel at how your fingers don’t wrap all the way around him. You stroke him thoughtfully and languidly, Anakin throws his head back over the constant pleasure you’re finally rewarding him. 

You tilt his cock to the side, nestling your nose between the space where firmness ends and softness begins. Anakin sucks in a breath. He always forgets how sensitive he is down there. With your hand still working up and down his cock, you draw your tongue over the top of his velvety sack. You’re helpless to your own infatuation with him. You can’t help but breathe deeply, storing the strong and comforting scent of his musk in your memory for the weeks when you’re apart. Encompassed with the urge to have even more of him, you open your mouth. The heavy weight of one of his balls rests on your tongue, earning you a lovely little “fuck,” from under Anakin’s breath. 

Your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, spreading the never-ending ooze of pre-cum around and down his length. You hollow your cheeks before releasing him with a pop. You press an open-mouthed kiss to the other side because they both need an equal amount of attention. You flatten your tongue around the curve of him, molding your mouth to the shape of his balls. With his entire sack now in your mouth, Anakin is helpless and you, too, feel the need to be filled. He’s squirming and mumbling your praise. Thank you,  Maker, that feels so good, and fuck, sweetheart. 

You release his fruit from your mouth, only to continue kissing him. There’s no part of his balls that goes untouched. Your tugs on his cock become lazier and sloppier as you focus all of your attention on his sack. The softness of the papery skin, the salty, musky taste, the overwhelming weight of them on your tongue. Your unabashed appreciation for his nature stirs something primal in Anakin. 

“Hmph- fuck.” Anakin forgets your instructions and touches your hair, pushing it out of your face. He’s too drunk on your mouth and your hand to remember anything you said before worshiping his balls. “Angel, please, can I fuck you?” 

You look up at Anakin with foggy eyes, practically intoxicated with his scent. You remove your hand from his dick to take off your shirt and pants. “No, Ani. You don’t get to fuck me. But I will ride your cock. Off,” you gesture to his loose tunic. Anakin nods and removes the last of his clothing.

Once you’re standing bare in front of him, his length lurches toward you. His heart never ceases to race when he sees the entire beauty of your body displayed in front of him. You are pure art. 

You straddle his lap, resting your hands on his broad shoulders for support. His dick lays between your wet seam and you begin to grind. You brush Anakin’s hair out of his face, tucking the curls behind his ears. You lean down to give him a soft kiss. “You can touch me, Ani.” 

Like a shot, Anakin’s hands are around your waist, aiding in your movements over his cock. The friction against your clit sends you ablaze. Anakin drops his lips to your collarbone, leaving butterfly kisses until he reaches the center of your clavicle. He then kisses up your neck and over your jaw, crooning against you, heavy breaths tickling your skin. You slip your hand between the two of you to guide him into your cunt. As your warm walls envelop his tip, you hold there for one, two, three seconds before slowly sinking down on him. 

“Shit, baby-” 

You want to whimper at the stretch and sigh at the fullness so they come out as one pleading noise. Finally, Anakin thinks. Your demeanor has shifted. But then you’re rocking yourself on him, fingers twirling around the ends of his hair and there you go pulling again. Anakin groans your name, gripping your hips with a bruising strength. 

You tug his head to the side, his roots stinging with a little pain and a lot of pleasure. It’s your turn to kiss his neck, although you’re nowhere near as gentle. You capture his skin between your teeth and suck before soothing your tongue over the reddening skin. You raise your hips up so his length is nearly at your entrance and pause once again to admire your boy. His blue eyes are dark in the dim light, his golden tan skin is flush with sweat, and you could just melt because he’s so damn pretty. 

You sit back down on his cock with a loud slap when your thighs hit each other. “Yes, Ani! Ngh, your cock feels so good. Y’make me feel so good, baby.” Anakin helps guide you up and down, taking the pressure off of you to continue at such a pace. You drop your head down to his shoulder and he can tell you’re getting tired. He wraps his arms around you and flips you down onto the couch. He wastes no time taking advantage of your pliant body, pushing your legs apart with both hands while he thrusts into you. The burn of your muscles being stretched is overpowered by the invisible touch on your clit. 

Your head rolls along the cushion and a weak whimper falls from your lips. “Gods, Anakin. You know I- fuck-” the Force pressure on your bundle of nerves coupled with Anakin’s hard thrusts makes every thought you have scramble together. “S’unfair… when you—” your orgasm is nearing its ascent. Anakin is no longer holding your legs down and instead cages your head between his arms. He nuzzles his nose against yours, kissing your cheek and the corner of your mouth. 

“I know,” Anakin smirks. “You hate it when I use the Force on you to make you feel good. But I know you’re about to cum. Your cunt’s squeezing my cock like crazy, baby. Are you gonna cum for me?” 

“Fuck,” you whimper. How did the tables turn so quickly? Were you not the one who was in control? How did you lose your air of dominance in one fell swoop? You’re disappointed in yourself but it doesn’t matter. Not when your orgasm ripples through you and your back arches off of the couch. Not when Anakin continues to roll his hips into you, working you through your orgasm with his flesh hand now on your clit, easily ripping another one from you before you even have a chance to come down from the first. The pleasure meshes together into one dizzying spell, leaving you to chant Anakin’s name over and over. 

“Music to my ears, baby,” Anakin groans, spurts of his warm seed spilling inside of you. He kisses you tenderly while stroking the bottom half of his cock to release his cum. When he draws himself from you, he pushes whatever is leaking out, back inside of you. “Stay.” 

What remains on his fingers is taken into your mouth. You wrap your hand around his wrist and moan around him, savoring the salty and tanginess of his seed. Your eyes look strikingly innocent for someone who is sucking cum off of his fingers. Maker, he’s going to get worked up again. “That’s enough.” Anakin removes his fingers from you. You know he’s going to retrieve a warm cloth to clean you up, but you catch his hand.

“Ani?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He sees the disappointment across your face and sits down. He grabs the woven blanket on the back of the couch and lays it over you. 

“Why…” you pause. Ugh, you hate this. “Why can I never stay dominant the whole time?” 

Anakin rubs his thumb over your knee and sighs. He hates seeing you upset with yourself. You did nothing wrong. You might think you failed, but everything takes practice. “I think you can, baby. But many different things go into this. Not just the mentality, but the stamina. You get tired easier. I can’t blame you, though. Riding this dick can’t be easy.” 

That makes you crack a smile. “Shut up,” you kick him playfully. “I’m being serious.”

“I know,” Anakin raises his hands in defense. “We just have to practice, sweetheart. That’s all. But honestly, baby? I just think you like to be taken care of more. And that’s okay.” 

“Are you sure? You don’t want me to… be different?” 

Anakin almost seems insulted with that question. He leans down to give you a reassuring kiss. “Never. I love you just the way you are.”

i hope you enjoyed the ending and weren't disappointed by it. i promise i'll try to write a totally dom!reader and sub!ani fic. emphasis on try.

◂ anakin masterlist ▸ main masterlist

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #sub!anakin #sub!anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x afab!reader

[anchoeritic]

-ˋˏ 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 + 𝐚𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐰 𝟐 ˎˊ

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 + 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞

— characters: jake sully, tonowari, tsu’tey.

— warnings: eighteen plus only content, minors do not interact. link is included with the scenarios, viewers discretion is advised.

jake sully:

breeding grounds: “baby, fuck.“ it takes one last thrust to send him over the edge, filling your cunt up with his hot cum and coating it all over your inner walls. your quiet moans tie closely with his, the warmth of his semen leaking out down your inner thighs. “mm, be a doll ‘nd let daddy see his pussy.” pulling out, he looks down at his work, admiring it. he couldn’t wait to do the same thing to you all over again.

stomach bulging: being deep inside you was an understatement, he was reaching out for your heart. god, your soul was touched by his dick. “s’big, jake!” you cry out, gripping at the sheets. he’s slamming into you from behind, keeping pressure at the center of your abdomen, feeling his cock slide in and out of you through your skin.

kitty licks: after a long day, all jake wants is to taste you. so you let him have at it. “just relax f’me, bubba..” he whispers into your ear before trailing kisses down your body, his breath hitching at the front of your pussy. “i’ll take good care of you, just need you to lay on your back ‘nd listen to me, okay?”

tonowari:

missing days: “been s’fuckin’ long,” he let out a low groan against your lips, rocking into you slowly. his cock thrusted deeper into you as his hips sped up, earning a soft cry from you. “missed you s’much, daddy.. missed you s’much.” you mewl, cupping his cheeks. “always want you all the time.”

mirror backshots: dim lights and erotic reflections, featuring a taste of his cock. you wouldn’t believe how much wari truly loves that mirror; making you look at your own reflection as you take him as deep as he could thrust, eyes all teary with saliva sliding down the sides of your mouth. his favourite look of you was a mess.

size difference: tonowari = big strong man with huge arms. his use for them? throwing you around like a ragdoll and fucking you against every surface he could possibly think of. “w-wari, mhmm..” you feel him slip in and out of you, his arms tangling within yours to pull you forcefully backwards. him towering over your sprawled out body and covering you like a shadow. “what was that, girl? go faster? i can do that for you.”

tsu’tey:

titty worship: riding him ‘til dawn and not making it back ‘til both of you have cum. sounds like a great idea, doesn’t it? with your titty in his mouth, it’s no secret how much he loves sucking on them, especially when you’re on top riding him. biting a mouthful and watching as you only fuck him faster.

face down: “‘m sorry, tey!” you managed to babble out through your sobs, letting your tears fall freely down the palettes of your cheeks. “shut up, stupid girl.” there was no stopping his cock from drilling into you, the frustration pulling him through further. your cries of pleasure were silenced as he pushed your face deeper between the pillows, masking them. “shut up and take it!”

soft aftercare: even after sex, tsu’tey still treats you with all his love; caressing your face, peppering kisses all over your neck, and holding your body close to his. there was nothing left in you to touch him like before, you just wanted to love on him. those sexual needs were relieved, it was time to settle down for a long night of cuddling and words of reassurance.

#atwow visuals #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar way of water #avatar smut #avatar x reader #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #tonowari #tonowari smut #tonowari x reader #tonowari x you #tsu’tey #tsu’tey smut #tsu’tey x reader #long post

[dejwrld]

💒༉ ⸻ the week has come for you and your fiance to tie the knot.

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ general warning readers discretion is advised — female reader, black reader (with descriptors), her/she pronoun mentions, established relationship (reader and wakatoshi is engaged), mentions of other haikyuu characters, mentions of marriage, slight reader background, wedding ceremony, reader is an influencer/blogger, super self indulgent and the same couple from these two posts.

ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ ꒱ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈 / we might even be falling in love (interlude), victoria monet

— warnings: flashback chapter, usage of alcohol, profanity, mentions of reader being a marketing major and international student, mentions of making out, fingering, setting paris,

╰┈➤ synopsis: the story of how the ushijima's rekindled an old flame that kick-started their love story.

ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ ꒱ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 / lucky, jason mraz & colbie caillat

— warnings: mentions of other haikyuu characters, profanity, set in las vegas, alcohol usage, mentions of drunk ushijima, needy ushijima, a bit comical scenes, oral (character receiving)

╰┈➤ synopsis: late bachelorette party leads to some late night fun with your fiancé.

ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ ꒱ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 / flaws & all, beyoncè

— warnings: mentions of reader's insecurities, mentions of reader receiving backlash, mention of wedding nervousness, a little angst, a little fluff

╰┈➤ synopsis: a late night chat between the soon to be married couple.

ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ ꒱ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐕 / marry you, bruno mars

— warnings: mentions of a wedding ceremony, mentions of wedding reception, missionary position, description of making out, clit play, mating press, profanity, body worship,

╰┈➤ synopsis: the wedding ceremony is finally here.

ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ ꒱ 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 / honeymoon phase, sabrina carpenter

— warnings: oral (female receiving), cuddling/spooning position, breeding kink, unprotected intercourse, love bombs being dropped, mentions of honeymoon activities,

╰┈➤ synopsis: honeymoon in bora bora between the ushijima’s

please interact with this post if you would like to be tagged in future installments of this series.

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi smut #haikyuu x smut #haikyuu x reader #hq smut #hq x reader #black reader #x black reader #female reader #hq x black reader #haikyuu x black reader #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

[straykids-97]

Soft?

“Soft? I’m too soft?”

Warnings: Reader confides in Felix, relationship woes, mentions of drinking and parties, soft!dom Chan, sub!reader, dirty texting, slight exhibitionism, pet names (goddess, baby etc.), unprotected sex, LMK IF I FORGOT ANYTHING

Word Count: 5.2k

AN: This was only read through once, so please bear with me. It probably has errors and as I am half awake, the end seems a little rushed to me. Anyway, enjoy you filthy sluts :) I also don't put a warning for minors on my stuff bc I feel like it's obvious that minors should not be reading this stuff, but I cannot do anything about that... HOWEVER I am for this one. Reader's discretion is advised and encouraged. There are mature themes in this fic so please, do not read if you a triggered by rough things!

You shift and lay your chin on your forearm as you stare out the window covered in raindrops. You heave a sigh as you watch traffic drive past, waiting for your dear friend Felix to come back with his drink. The Cafe wasn’t very full, but then again, it was the afternoon, and it was normally full in the morning or early evening. You two always hung out at the Cafe- Felix always joked that this was the only place where he could talk to you without one of his bandmates interrupting or eavesdropping. He could tell that something was weighing on you heavily, so he decided to take you to the one place that could be just for the two of you. 

“Ah,” he announces his arrival with a satisfied sigh, sliding into the booth in front of you. You sit up slightly, adjusting your posture when he settles. “This is the best place for an americano.” He snorts and takes a sip, “Are you sure you don’t want a coffee?” You shake your head, “Felix, you know I hate coffee.” He smiles, nodding his head, “Yeah. I know, but I thought I would try one more time.” Felix offers you a soft, lopsided smile as he leans forward, “Are you gonna come clean, or am I gonna have to torture you?” You grin at him, waving your hand at him. “No.” You lament, leaning back in the booth seat. “You don’t have to go to that length. I’ll just come clean.” He offers you a teasing smile, “Good, cuz I sorta forgot them at home.” He shrugs, “I thought you would come clean anyway…” He trails off for a moment, before dropping the question, “So… What’s wrong with you? You’ve been kinda acting-” 

“Distant?” You give him a sheepish smile before shrugging one of your shoulders. “Yeah, I know… I just… I don’t know if Chris… Likes me… Ya know?” You pick at your fingernail polish, fidgeting to try and distract you from the lump in your throat. Felix didn’t speak for a while, probably unsure of what to say. Of course, Chris liked you- he loved you. Worshiped the ground you walked on. Felix was more confused as to the why, more than anything. 

He cleared his throat, “Well… What makes you say that?” He shifts awkwardly in his seat, unsure of how to navigate this very unfamiliar territory. Chris was like the brother he never had, and you the sister he always wanted, so the fact that you were presenting a possible relationship problem, something he didn’t have much knowledge in, was something he didn’t know if he could steer accurately. 

“Well, for starters, he’s super against PDA, ya know. And I understand that-” you hold your hand up in defense before going on, “I do. He doesn’t want someone to capture a picture of me before the company is ready for us to come out as a couple officially and all that.” You sigh, “But… He just acts…” You puff out your cheeks, unsure of how to explain your frustrations to Felix. “So… Nice?” Felix frowns at your words, “Nice? Isn’t that a good thing?” You sigh, holding your head in your hands, feeling your skin turning bright red. “Oh my goodness, I don’t even know how to explain this to you- I shouldn’t. It feels like I’m confessing a filthy sin to a pure nun.” He laughs at your analogy, “What are you talking about? Y/n, I’m your friend. I knew you before Chris, if anything, you owe me an explanation for him making you feel this way. Cuz I’ll talk to him if I have to-” Your head snaps up and Felix stops talking when he sees your beat red face. His mouth parted slightly, “Y/n, what- why are you so red?” He chuckled at your face and reached across the table to pinch your cheek teasingly. You bat his hand away, “He doesn’t like… Ask for anything… I feel like if I initiate it… It’ll feel like I’m begging or something…” You trail off and it suddenly hits Felix like a tsunami, “You haven’t had sex yet?” His voice drops to barely a whisper. Your face turns even redder, “Felix!” You hiss at him, “Lower your voice!” He tosses a quick look over his shoulder, “You and I both know, the barista should be retired right now. We’re lucky if he wore his hearing aid’s today.” You slap his forearm, “Lee Felix!” He beamed at you, “What? I had to repeat my order a million times.” He rolled his dark orbs before leaning back into the conversation, “How have you guys gone almost a year and not fucked?” You want to cover your ears but you can’t. This was the conversation you had planned to have anyway, but you just weren’t mentally prepared to hear someone so sweet and kind like Felix talk like that. 

“Well, you guys were gone for the tour, and then you had to travel to promote the album so Chris and I spent the beginning of our relationship over the phone.” Felix bobbed his head, “Yeah… But that leaves like, five months unaccounted for.” You sigh, “Yeah… I know… I figured, ya know, the distance and time spent away would spark something…” Felix has completely forgotten about his coffee and is utterly consumed by this new information. “But, he just acts so sweet, like usual, so kind and caring… The second I want to do something, then he’s on it. No dragging his feet, offering to do things like going on dates and stuff but…” 

“He’s leaving you hanging?” You groan, “Sorta? I hate to be like, ‘All this stuff is great but when do we start banging?’ Cuz then I feel like that’s all I see him as and I don’t ya know? I feel like if he wants to, he’d tell me or try to ya know, at least grope me.” You whisper the word like God would come down to smite you if anyone heard it. Felix looks perplexed, that much was clear by the look of confusion on his face. “What?” Felix does another scope of the Cafe before leaning to speak, “Are we talking about the same Christopher Bang?” I snort, “Of course we are-”

“That man is always…” He raises his eyebrows, suggesting something. “Frustrated?” You snort at him trying to be coy, “Yeah, sure you can say that… Maybe you’re the reason it seems to be worse these days.” He grabs his coffee, taking a few sips before going on. “He doesn’t even try to pat your bum?” You blush slightly, “No.” You shake your head and peek over your shoulder at the middle-aged man who is staring at his computer very intently, a pair of headphones humming with the beat of a tune you didn’t know. 

“He just acts so… cautious. Like I’m a piece of paper or glass he doesn’t want to break.” Felix bobs his head. “Have you tried to ya know-” 

“Yes!” You hiss, your cheeks burning red. Felix blushes slightly at your frustration, the conversation you two were having wasn’t one to be talked over coffee in a cafe either. “Ok… Well, why don’t you talk to him?” You groan, holding your head in your hands, “And make him feel ashamed? No thanks, I’d rather dig myself a whole and cover up for eternity.”  You huff, “I’m hoping that maybe he brings it up.” You watch Felix shrug, “If he doesn’t, we’ll be having this conversation again next time.” 

***

The black off-the-shoulder dress you chose to wear tonight hugged your curves just right. It exposed just enough but covered equally just as much. The small diamond necklace on your neck was a gift from Chris, a random one, which you were used to. But, since you were too nervous to wear it every day like he wanted you to, you decided to wear it for the occasion. They were celebrating a very big award win with staff and friends. Chris guides you through the throng of people to an area designated for the boys and close friends. Chris pauses slightly, his fingertips on your elbow, “Are you alright? I know how you feel about crowds.” His sweetness never seems to melt you, even now. You smile up at him and you can feel heat crawl up the back of your neck, your heart squeezing in your chest. “Yes. I’m ok. This was part of the deal, remember?” He smiles down at you, giving you one of those earth-shattering, blindingly sweet smiles of his that he’s known for. “And what would that be?” He asks, pulling you in by the waist. You feel your pulse throb in your veins as a small gasp escapes your lips and you bounce off his chest. Chris didn’t do PDA. “Uh- um, the parties, the cameras, all that stuff.” You wave your hand and lightly tap his chest, unsure of what to do with your hands. He smiles at you, “All that stuff?” He leans in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “What would I be without you?” He murmured, making you giggle and pull away slightly, “Perfectly fine.” You remind him, causing him to roll his eyes, “Fine. But dull.” He admits with a shrug, pulling away and offering his palm to you as you walk toward where Felix and the boys are sitting playing what looks like a card game with jax and random little balls. 

You settle beside Minho, who gives you a playful nudge. Chris sits by Felix and Hyunjin, who look to be in a heated debate about something, which is why you decided to sit by Minho. Seungmin, Minho, Changbin, and I.N., were all in the midst of the game when you settled into the couch. You watch them for a while, trying to follow the game but getting confused by all the complicated rules that it has. You sigh and lean back into the couch, tossing a look to see that Hyunjin had left to sit by Changbin, watching the game as well. Felix and Chris seemed to be deep in conversation, but Chris’s eyes were on you. You watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes for a millisecond, and you know what that means, he is annoyed by something. You reach into your bag and pull out your phone, typing a message to him really quickly. 

Are you ok?

You know he gets the message, but he ignores it. Instead, he turned his attention back to Felix who looked as if he may have had one too many to drink. You take a breath in and it catches in your throat when you realize that Felix gets a little too chatty when he gets drunk. And that it had been almost two weeks since you had talked to him about the lack of sex in your relationship. Panic sets in as you slowly turn your face to Felix and Chris. Felix was still talking, sipping on water now; Chris probably made him start drinking water out of fear of what else he would say. You watch as Felix leans forward to eat what looks like pretzels, and Chris takes that moment to pull his phone out of his slacks to see what you have sent him. You watch with mixed emotions as Chris’s jaw flexes and unflexes, his eyes and face illuminated by the darkened screen of his phone. You knew that Chris didn’t like having his phone out while at a function but he couldn’t seem to help himself this time. You watch as his fingers dance across the screen and you immediately stare at your screen, waiting for his reply. Your heart nearly falls out of your colon when it does. 

Felix has loose lips when he consumes alcohol… Care to share?

As soon as you look back up to him, you pray that the couch will open up and swallow you whole. Anything to escape the way that Chris glares at you. You do a double take, unsure if you should look at your phone or at Chris. Finally, your brain synapses start working once again enough for you to form a reply. 

What did he tell you?

He doesn’t offer you the same courtesy of delaying a reply. And you watch with bated breath as he messages you back so fast that it might as well have been said. 

What do you think he told me, goddess? 

Your breath almost comes out in a squeal. Chris called you Goddess when he was teasing you once. A name that he has mentioned in passing a few times because of the topic of him heckling you about being a muse to him. You told him it made you feel like you were in a Greek story about heroes and villains. So then came the nickname Goddess, because in his words, “Goddess are cooler than muses.” 

You try not to shake as you stare at your phone, trying to keep your mouth closed but failing as your eyes gawk at the screen. Before your brain can form another coherent thought, he sends another reply. 

Do you think I’m too soft?

You feel your soul leave your body, and heat rushes through your body. But not the embarrassed kind. You squeeze your legs together and toss a quick glance around to the boys who were all oblivious to what was going on between you and Chris only a few feet away. 

As your eyes land on Changbin you are talking a little too loud, and slurring so much that he is about to start drooling if he doesn’t slow down. Han hands him a tissue from beside Minho, “Rapper down!” You can’t help but smile as Changbin snags the tissue from Han, fluttering it in the wind. None of the boys waste a second to mimic a damsel in distress, I.N. holds his cheek, fluttering his eyes, “Oh no, I’m drooling! Someone save me!” Changbin puffs out his chest and starts to say something, but the buzzing of your phone causes you to become distracted by the boys teasing Changbin. 

Eyes on me baby. I’m not done talking to you. 

Your eyes almost fall out of their sockets. What has gotten into him? He never talks to you like this. Not even when you guys get into a heated makeout session. You slowly raise your gaze back to Chris, who smirks at you. Smirks. Fucking smirks. You watch as his eyes lower to his screen for just a moment to type out another reply. 

I’ll show you what you’ve been missing then, baby.

You gulp, your stomach doing somersaults as you watch him shift slightly. Chris swipes his dark beverage off the table in front of him, swirling it a few times before looking at you over the rim. His forefinger rubs the rim, and you can’t help but think that he’s trying to work you up. It was working. A heated pulse thrums through your body to your core, causing you to cross your legs for friction. You feel a faint sheen of sweat start to form, and the room seems a little too loud and the people all seem to disappear as he focuses his dark irises back on your face. You watch as he swipes his tongue over this bottom lip before taking a swig of his dark alcohol. With one hand, he types a reply. 

Take your panties off. Bring them to me. 

You blink a few times; rereading those two sentences over and over again. Your brain didn’t seem to process what it was reading. That or it was short-circuiting. Either way, your brain was not functioning properly. You glance around, before typing a quick reply. 

Here? With everyone around? 

You glance up to see Chris looking down at his phone. His forefinger was playing with his bottom lip, the rest of his fingers holding the small bourbon glass as he messages you back. The phone vibrates and your eyes read the message before your brain can process what it's reading. Once it sets in, you swear you’re about to faint. Ever since you met Chris all those months ago, nothing could have prepared you for this moment. To read the text that flickered across your screen… 

You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself. 

You sit there, dumbfounded and you aren’t sure what to do. You were surrounded by a mixture of friends and strangers, and what he was demanding of you… Was something straight of an E.L. James novel. 

You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself. 

You huff out a sigh, flopping back onto the couch. How the hell were you going to somehow, manage to shimmy out of your panties in front of 7 other men? They might be drinking and some close to drunk, but they weren’t stupid. They’d know what you were doing by the time your dark silk panties hit your knees. You glance at the phone in your palm, shaking your head. You don’t have to do this- Chris was just drinking and feeling frisky. But, you can’t help but bite your lip slightly at the thought of what you would do if you somehow managed to get them off. What would you do once they were off? Your face pales and you turn to look at Chris a few feet away. 

Chris’s dark eyes seemed to be ignited with something you hadn’t seen in them before. 

Power. Authority. Desire. Dominance. 

You can’t conceal the shudder that runs down your spine as he tilts his chin up at you, gesturing to your phone with his eyes. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t even realize that he had messaged you again. 

You have five minutes to have them in the palm of my hand.

Your eyes bulge and you choke slightly on your spit. Five minutes? Only Five minutes? It was going to take at least that to get them passed your hips. Your brain was kicking into high gear for the first time since you had sat down, “Fuck.” You hiss to yourself. Time was ticking, and you had to get moving because you didn’t want to find out what was going to happen if you didn’t do as he said. You put your phone into your purse and begin to shift your silk panties, which were hard to feel through your dress, down to your thighs. It was surprisingly easier than expected but now came that part that you were unsure of. 

How to get them over your bare thighs, knees, and to your ankles without anyone noticing. You take a brief look around, looking twice, three times before taking a deep breath and shoving your dark silk panties to your ankles and swiping them off your ankles. You managed to get them into a wad in your left fist before Minho leaned over to see what you were doing. “Y/n-ssi, what’s wrong?” You giggle, “Oh, I think there’s a hair or something on my leg.” You have your empty hand at him. “I think I got it.” You watch as he smiles at you softly, “Ok.” He turns part way, before turning back, “On your leg?” Your face falls for a split second. He wasn’t as drunk as the others, and you didn’t calculate that. “Well, I’m not sure what it was. I honestly felt like a bug.” You come up with a lie on the spot, kicking yourself for not thinking that Minho hadn’t really drunk at all since you had arrived. He nods his head, “I hope not. I hate bugs.” You nod, “Me too…” You trail off, glancing over to Chris who looked amused by the interaction. You feel a blush creep up your neck when you see that he watched Minho catch you with your panties around your ankles. 

Damn him.

“I think I’m gonna go sit by Chan.” You smile and collect your bag before crossing over to the boys’s game, earning a few groans and slaps on the arm as you pass. You wave them all off and make your way to Chris, who sets his glass aside as you approach him. You almost, almost sneakily slide him into your panties. But instead, you stand there, knees almost touching his as he stares up at you expectingly. “Do you have something for me, Y/n?” He asks, his voice dripping with false sweetness. As if this man wasn’t trying to make you melt from the inside out. You clasp your hands in front of you, “I might…” you trail off, meeting his gaze. You watch as he raises a single arched eyebrow and you remind yourself to find out who did his makeup because damn them. 

It takes everything in your every molecule to not shift under his stare. But still, he waits. After a few moments, he picks up on what you’re meaning and slowly raises his hand to you, palm up. It was high enough for the boys to see if they were watching close enough, for anyone who was looking your way to see that you were putting something in his hand. It didn’t take much of a rocket scientist to put two and two together and figure out what was happening. 

You stretch out your hand and put your black satin panties in his large hand before sinking to the seat next to him. 

“Happy?” You grumble, eyes on the boys who were all too focused on the second round of their game. “Elated.” He replied back, crossing his leg and spreading out your panties on his thigh. You gasp, “Chris-” You start to hiss but stop when you realize his OCD ass was really folding your panties in a small square. You watch as he replaces his breast pocket handkerchief with your panties. He smoothes a hand over his chest as he twists his body to you, dangling his handkerchief by your face, “I think we’ll be needing this.” You frown at his words, “Why?” 

He grins, face falling for a moment as he wads it up in his fist. What was he about to do- “Are you ok, y/n?” He puts a hand on your forearm. “Is it getting too loud?” You don’t have to look at the boys to know that they’re all watching you now. The boys all knew what crowds did to your tiny little introverted soul. “Y/n? Are you ok?” Felix finally started to sober up a little enough to not be slurring. You gulp, shrugging, “It’s getting a little warm.” You admit, truthfully. “I think I might be getting a headache.” 

“I’ll take you outside, yeah? Maybe some quiet and fresh air would help?” You ruefully nod. Chris helps you to your feet like the dutiful boyfriend he is, holding your hand as he guides you skillfully outside of the small gathering. You started to shiver and you weren’t sure if it was excitement or what it was really but adrenaline was coursing through your veins regardless. 

You were panting as Chris pulled you into a small alcove right outside the party. It was dark and hidden and no one would see either of you unless they got within a few feet of you. Chris pushed you flat against the wall, his breath on your face as you stared up at him with wide eyes, “Too soft?” He growled, wrapping a hand around your jaw. “Baby, I am greedy when it comes to you.” His voice is so low that it feels like it’s rattling your soul. “I want everything you give me- I want more than you give me.” His lips crush on yours. It wasn’t the usual sweet kiss, no. This was hot, heavy and fuck it felt amazing. You mewl and wrap your arms around his shoulders as you feel his hands grip your thighs. He pauses only for a moment, pulling that light-colored handkerchief out that was in his pocket. 

“If this come back wet,” he leans in, his tongue dancing on the bottom of your lip, “then we’re leaving.” Your breathing was ragged and your mind was already fuzzy. “Holy shit-” You gasp, gripping his forearm as he chuckled. It sounded like thick molasses. 

This Chris was someone you had never met before. And fuck, no wonder he kept him hidden. If he was out running around you probably wouldn’t be walking or a functioning member of society. 

You feel his fingers delve into your folds and a heavy shudder rips through your body. “Oh my god-” You hiccup, eyes rolling back into your head as Chris rubs soft, quick circles around your clit. He doesn’t go any further, the teasing bastard. And to no one's shock, when he stepped back into the hallway, the fingertips that were covered by the fabric were darkened by your slick. You gulp as his eyes slowly raise to you, “I suppose we have our answer then.” 

***

Chris didn’t even wait for you to get through the doorway of your apartment before his hands were on you. He didn’t move to take your clothes off, no. He just grabbed, groped, ripped at your body like a hungry man who was so starved of food that he was threatening to eat you. You wrap your hands in his locks as he picks you up by the waist, shuffling you back to the hallway, stumbling slightly. You squeal and he laughs into your lips as he digs his fingertips into your thigh skin, “Whoops.” 

He manages to get you both into your room before he puts you back on your feet. You blink up at him to see his puffy lips even more swollen from kissing so hard that your teeth were gnashing together. Chris’s white dress shirt was rumbled, but otherwise intact. He took off his jacket in the car and left it there. He wasn’t really interested in it currently. “Don’t move.” He ordered. His tone was low, full of authority. You stand there as still as a statue as he shifts to walk around you in a slow circle. 

Chris stands directly behind you, “I want you to take your dress off for me.” You inhale sharply. “Like… Strip?” You hear him chuckle before you feel his hand dance up your shoulder to your throat, “Yes.” He lightly squeezes your throat before letting you go. You turn to look over your shoulder to Chris who was moving to sit on the shoe ottoman at the foot of your bed, legs spread as he settled. You moan softly to yourself and turn to look at him. 

You slowly reach to your shoulders, tugging at the fabric of your dress. You pause for only a moment when it dawns on you that you’ve never been bare in front of Chris before. “Don’t worry goddess.” He laughs softly, “I’ve been dreaming of this day ever since we went to the park and you wore a skirt.” That was before their tour. 

“You’ve been holding off that long?” You ask, almost dropping your hands. “Baby, I don’t like to be gentle all the time… I wasn’t sure if that was what you liked, so I was testing the waters gently. I don’t want to make you do something that you don’t want.” You gulp, figuring that was a conversation for another time. 

The burning in your gut and between your thighs was what was most important right now. 

You take a deep breath and push the fabric down to your waist, exposing your bare chest to Chris before shimming the fabric the rest of the way off, leaving you completely bare to him. You slowly raise your gaze to him to find that he was staring at you so hard that you thought perhaps he was trying to catch you on fire. You almost reach down to put the dress back on but the noise Chris made almost made you fold. 

He made a strange mix of a moan and a feral growl. “Jesus fucking christ.” He groans, “Come here.” He almost barks. You don’t wait and he has you pulled into his lap. It takes no time for him to, quite literally, rip the buttons off his shirt and pants to get him bare as well. 

“I would say we should do foreplay, but you’re wet enough for the entire night.” He teases, his teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. You groan, “Chris-” you start to complain but stop as you feel his cock at your entrance. You both moan, and he pants raggedly, obviously struggling. “Baby- I’m trying so hard-” 

“I’m not glass.” You snap, digging your nails into his biceps, “Quit being a pussy and just-” Before you can get the rest out he thrust into you so hard that it knocks the wind out of you. He wastes no time wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing it. “Do not say things that you can’t take back, y/n.” The way he spoke made a shudder rip through your body so violently that you thought it would tear you apart. 

Chris pulls out ever so slowly and then drives back into you, causing you both to moan into each other’s mouths. This was so good- fuck, better than you ever could have expected. 

Just when you thought that it couldn’t get any better, his free hand adjusts the angle of your hips and he starts to fuck you hard and fast. You both become a mixture of animalistic grunts, moans, and whimpers as he fucks you so thoroughly that you debated thanking Felix in the morning. 

You felt yourself spiraling toward a third orgasm as Chris moaned, “Fuck-baby- one more, please.” He whimpers, letting go of your throat and holding your hip along with the other hand. You could come at the sight of him whimpering for you, fucked out of his mind, drunk on you, and holding your hips as he fucks you like he hates you. Your eyes roll as your back arches off the mattress, your toes curling and your hands flying down to grip his wrists. “Chirs!” You nearly scream as he slams into you a few more times before frantically pushing away from you, coming all over your thighs and lower stomach. 

He sits there, staring at his mess and panting for a moment, before slumping into your body. “Why did I wait?” He scoffed, talking mostly to himself. “Felix and I were talking about that very same thing.” You snort sleepily as you run your fingers down his clammy spine. He sighs, “No- I mean, why didn’t I just say something? I could have been easing you into this so you won’t be so sore in the morning-” 

“If I’m sore,” you interrupt, pulling his face up to look into his eyes. “That just means that you did a good job.” He grins at you sleepily, holding himself up just enough to give you a few sweet, passionate kisses before pushing away, so that his chain necklace dangled just above your chin, “I would say let’s go have a shower. But, I’m tired. You’re tired. The shower isn’t going anywhere. And if I have my way, taking a shower would just be wasting water because we’ll need it again.” He winks, before flopping down beside you and pulling you into his side. 

Perhaps, talking to Felix was a good thing. 

Now, if only you could get it into Felix’s little thought process about the choking part…

#skz drabbles #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard hours #bang chan smut

[norrisleclercf1]

What Alonso is like in bed hc please🥰🔥💋

A/N: SMUT, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

It’s have to depend on his mood let’s be honest

The first mood with him in bed would have to be playful

You’d be cooking dinner or whatever, having gotten home from work or whatever you were doing

He’s on the SIMS so when he comes back to reality and smells your cooking, he’s out and finding you in the kitchen

I firmly believe that when Fernando is being playful he’s like a college boy

You’re leaning over something when he comes up behind you and rolls his hips up into you

It startles you, slapping his chest telling him off, but he’s got this cheeky look

His tongue is sticking out as he watches your ass

When you walk past he slaps it hard, causing you to squeal and smack his chest

Would be playful teasing which leads to playful sex

Nipping at one another, teasing, just carefree not even caring if the other finishes because you’re both enjoying the moment and feeling

Mood 2

Tired

Fernando coming home after a long weekend, to you asleep in bed

You wake to the shower, sitting up, blurry eyed when he walks in only wearing boxers

Lays down and pulls you with him whispering how tired he is

You wake first in the morning, you can’t help but see the imprint of his cock, that was snuggly pressed into your ass

Smirking at an idea, you slowly and carefully roll Fernando’s boxers down

He doesn’t fight, maybe mumbling some things in Spanish

Fingers wrapping around his thick cock you smirk seeing the pre-cum leaking

Listen he’s not big maybe 5-6 inches he’s more so thick than anything feels like your being split anytime he enters you

He groans, eyes slowly opening as you suck on him slowly, taking your time

He sighs, fingers playing with your hair, prying you off as he slowly slides into you

Let’s you take control of the speed both of you being slow and messy as you’re both tired just wanting to feel each other

Mood 3

Jealous

Lord help your ass and your life if you ever decide to make Fernando jealous

You once made the mistake of playfully flirting with Lewis in front of your boyfriend

When you both got home he didn’t speak as he pulled you to the bedroom and laid you down

He tells you to strip, smiling you strip, but stop seeing his anger

Pulls down a cover revealing a mirror in front of the bed

You done really fucked up if he pulls the mirror out

Fucks you hard and fast

You have to orgasm at least 4 or r times before he begins to forgive you

Whispers in your ear asking who’s fucking, who’s claiming your pussy as theirs

You cry that it’s Fernando who smirks and finally stops, immediately turns into the dotting boyfriend who caters to your every need

Fernando is many things in bed, but there is one main thing he is and that is; he worships your fucking body

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 scenario #fernando alonso x reader #fernando imagine #fernando alonso one shot #fernando x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 2023 #Fernando Alonso smut

[thelargefrye]

Welcome to Lost Paradise: February Filth Fest the 2024 tour featuring artist ATEEZ and Y/N. Throughout the month of February, the artist will perform a concert each day around a certain theme. this is ensure that each show of the tour is different from last one and that everyone gets a personalized experience.

PERFORMERS : ATEEZ + Y/N

GENRES : SMUT

WARNINGS : LANGUAGE, MATURE THEMES, SMUT, EACH CHAPTER WILL HAVE ITS OWN WARNINGS // READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED

want to join the tour ? check this out here !

KEEP UP WITH THE LATEST SHENANIGANS ON TOUR WITH Y/N. the master list for each day is under the cut.

day one : " getting the vip treatment from hongjoong " ( deepthroating )

day two : " broke up with my douchebag ex that cheated on me ... thanks hwa and joong for keeping me company " ( cheating / creampie )

day three : " mirror mirror on the wall, who's the hottest of them all and why is it yeosang? " ( mirror sex )

day four : " mingi dressed up as a cowboy for today's show ... anyone want to save a horse and ride a cowboy? no? just me? " ( public sex )

day five : " where did hongjoong get those blindfolds ? " ( auralism / sensory deprivation )

day six : " ugh , jongho looks so good today 😩 " ( dacryphilia )

day seven : " who knew yunho was a peeping tom when it came to me and woo " ( voyeurism )

day eight : " wooyoung you craaaaaazzyyyyy . . . i like it " ( experimental / nipple play )

day nine : " i miss sleeping with seonghwa . . . WAIT NOT LIKE THAT " ( long distance sex / praise )

day ten : " i will literally quit my job to start an onlyfans RIGHT NOW ! don't test me choi san " ( hate fucking )

day eleven : " i wanted to sleep but yunho said no 🙁 " ( somnophilia )

day twelve : " do you think san and yeosang have a mommy kink ? cause they acting like my mommys right now " ( mommy kink )

day thirteen : " oof– seonghwa can guard me ANY DAY with that uniform of his " ( uniform )

day fourteen : " yes , it is i – your favorite goddess " ( threesome / ritual )

day fifteen : " n e ways jongho can degrade me any day of the week " ( femdom / degradation )

day sixteen : " mingi looks a little cold . . . i'm gonna help him get warm " ( cockwarming )

day seventeen : " hongjoong is currently the bane of my existence and so annoying " ( body worship )

day eighteen : " WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME SEONGHWA WAS SO BIG THIS IS ILLEGAL " ( size kink )

day nineteen : " any screaming you hear tonight from me is thanks to yeosang " ( masturbation / edging )

day twenty : " what is this ? the addams family ? " ( soft dom-sub / roleplay )

day twenty - one : " tonights concept is birth of venus with yunho " ( aphrodisiacs / overstimulation )

day twenty - two : " i like dragons . . . LOOKING AT YOU JONGHO AND HWA " ( double penetration )

day twenty - three : " mingi , you cannot be sexy and soft at the same time . please my heart " ( breeding kink )

day twenty - four : " woo is literally that one kinky sticker that says something like ' don't make fun of me i'll cum ' and i think that says a lot about the both of us " ( pegging / feminization )

day twenty - five : " me and seonghwa were just watching a movie before san crashed movie night lol " ( free use / spit play )

day twenty - six : " peach and bowser who ? sorry i only know me and san " ( tentacle sex )

day twenty - seven : " it's you " ( cuckolding )

day twenty - eight : " wow , wooyoung can get feral sometimes 🫠 " ( predator-prey play / strength kink )

day twenty - nine : " happy birthday to me i guess 🥳 " ( gangbang )

smalls note : just a reminder that anyone is free to join february filth fest! make sure to tag me and topaz (sanjoongie) and use the tag #joongfryefff24! also this is my personal master list for the event and not the official post which is linked above.

credits : header template is by storm studio's on canva.

#📽 ─ series . #lost paradise : fff. #joongfryefff24

[janumun]

A Lemurian’s Guide to Love (LaDS Rafayel – General NSFW Headcanons) 

Rated: NSFW/18+ Tags: oral and vaginal sex, body worship, fingering, praise kink, facial, hand kink, Rafayel shenanigans, allusions to spoilers for Rafayel’s myth dates, certain ASMRs and his character story Words: ~3k

Author’s Notes: The chokehold this man has on me (!!!) has led me to exploring Rafayel’s sexual foray as well as smidges of how I imagine his relationship to progress with his beloved in these headcanons. 

Please take careful note of those tags and rating and proceed at your own discretion!  

With that said, I hope you enjoy your read. 

Rafayel has stood by and waited for you; over the course of several years — from that fated meeting and the result: a promise borne and broken — and through the descent of the sands of time.  

And while he likes to consider himself a patient man — and to a degree, he has been just that; endurance incarnate over the course of those long, arduous years without his beloved at his side — when he does finally come across you, Rafayel finds his resolve ripple, and then gradually implode, into paper-thin fragments of yearning and fond desire.  

From how Rafayel oft presents his public persona to the world — cool and dispassionate; a tepid smile on the ready for strangers who wish to garner his favour or attentions, one wouldn’t even think to scratch past that surface. The task of avoiding unnecessary engagements, especially since his return to Linkon City a few years prior, preceding his debut as an artist, is one he finds particularly cumbersome.  

But during intimate moments, reserved for just the two of you, you see that exact same Rafayel — that handsome, charismatic artistic talent plastered, glossy, across covers of magazines and billboards — mould into silly scowls. A flair for the dramatics the minute he senses your attentions are not his alone for the taking. Ridiculous and feline-like in his excuses of demands from his ‘bodyguard’, to allow him her company.  

After an endurance survived this incredibly long, he finds that in certain matters, he can no longer wait.  

Great Lemurian entity he may be, but his habits fit firmer akin to a cat’s rather than any fish you’ve kept as a pet.  

He likes to tease and prod at you, wind you up and then, burst into subdued laughter the moment you take his bait. He’s frighteningly adept at stringing you along to his whims, a certain boyish charm you’ve never seen him utilize on any of his vast majority of fans in public. 

He loves to drag you out to impromptu sea-shell collecting ‘dates’ along the shores of Whitesand Bay, to capture the perfect pearlescent pink and silvers, to grind into paint on days he moans of “not having enough inspiration to paint’.

Tows you along for long drives in the vermillion convertible he was provided by Thomas, purchased from Rafayel’s private funds [the correct color he insisted on getting for the car before a poor Thomas was finally able to fulfil his request].  

Had you both stranded miles away from home once, when he had a punctured tire and ‘forgot’ to ensure he had a spare to change, in case of emergencies.  

And when you biked him back the rest of the way on a rental bicycle, you had the very nagging suspicion he wasn’t too upset about the mishap as he hummed an odd tune, seated behind you. Bodies close enough you felt the gentle vibrations of his voice deep within your bones, along with the steady movement of the tires hitting the paved road.  

Truly a feline more than any amphibious creature. 

A wondrous man, a delightful dissonance of character.

That very same man, when the two of you hold each other for the first time: 

His digits scour a delicate path across your face, your jaw, down your neckline; Rafayel is incredibly, uncharacteristically quiet the first night you are his. Bathed a sterling blue under the watery gaze of the moon. Save for the thick hitch of his breath with the unveiling of bare skin, he is mute.  

His eyes, however, a crisp indigo, seem to set an inextinguishable fire to the rest of your clothes.  

He observes — engraves into memory — first with his gaze, and then, his fingers follow. Long, tapered digits mapping the shape of your breasts, thumb denting gentle at the peaks of them. A grip he tests, firm, against the supple flesh of your waist, flaring outwards into the soft squish of your hips.  

He makes a sound then; incoherent, incomprehensible. Perhaps, an unconscious break of language into his native Lemurian tongue; the hoarse, barely compacted passion of it, however, conveyed to you in feelings.  

You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.  

Your first night is incredibly long, Rafayel shows you truly what it means to be made love to, you nearly weep of joy and pleasure.  

He has waited, oh he has pined and wanted, for so long. It’s a surreal and soul shattering experience for him, just the blessing of you naked underneath his fingers alone, has all of Rafayel’s pretenses unravelling, all masks and facades falling away.  

The first time, there is no teasing, no hiding.

Rafayel is immaculately thorough in his exploration of your body. His fingers; his preferred medium of following the swells and dips of his canvas — your body.  

Unfortunately, and yet so very delightful for you; he takes his time sketching across your body throughout the night, providing no chance of rest or relief from the torrential waves of pleasure he crests through your body. His eyes trained fast on your face, for every slight quiver and break of you, witnessing your response to each single pinpoint of pleasure his fingers brush against.  

Responding obedient to pleas of “oh, there, right there, Rafayel.”  

This very first time, the sounds of you alone, moaning his name, could bring him to completion but he resists. Your pleasure, first and foremost, in his near-tunnel vision. 

When the calls of his name upon your lips become unbearable, with the curve of his index and middle up into your warm wetness, Rafayel caves, like sand carried back into the depths of the sea, underneath the unrelenting break of waves. Long fingers indenting into pliant thighs as he cleaves them up and apart for unobstructed access to your weeping slit and presses a parched tongue to lap up your essence.  

Curling his tongue up into your fluttering walls as his fingers dance against the tight bead of pleasure in between your legs, to the steady compresses of your thighs against the strength of his shoulders.

Rafayel adores and encourages your honesty in bed.

Ready to slow down when and if you tell him how overwhelmed you are. Takes you faster when you beg him to make you come with his mouth. All the while, that dark azure gaze is fixated upon you, the flush beneath them turned a deeper crimson with each sound of satisfaction he triumphantly plucks out of you. 

Lashes descending involuntarily, only when you crest at the peak of your pleasure and flood yourself onto his waiting tongue. The taste of a delectable sea; he laps up every single drop of until he is sated. 

And it is only when you implore Rafayel to put his cock inside you does he startle at the negligence of his body; hard and leaking, soiling the sheets beneath him.  

When you finally, finally connect, painfully slow; the push comes without resistance offered, from how wet he has had you from his ministrations, for a good part of the night.  

Rafayel has to struggle to breathe at the sensation of your warmth around him, tight, herculean control the likes of which he hasn’t ever had to scrabble for, ever in his life. To not just spill the moment he is inside you.  

Her pleasure, I want to feel it. I want to make her feel good.  

Still the sole thought behind that glazed, hot gaze. A moment of odd, emotional vulnerability when your eyes finally lock, your hands wandering now, to cup across his face.  

And when he begins to move, Rafayel needs to feel each and every single part of you with every single fibre of his own. Fingers resuming their trek of their now favorite canvas as you murmur love and praise into his ears. The weight of a breast hefty against one large palm, the other with his fingers intertwined through yours as he propels into you.  

Both of your releases, one and the same; as his eyes remain on the scrunch of your brow, just before he too falls, burying his face against the crescent of your neck. 

Rafayel’s style of love-making is firmly passionate.  

It is emotional, relieving and often times fun. He is incredibly adept at reading your cues and adjusting his pace according to your wants. Sex, in his mind, is an activity, as deserving of time and patience as his art — an intricate worship — and hence he usually requires the two of you have those several, long hours to spare before he gets to undressing you. Quickies, as such then, he isn’t a massive fan of.  

Neither public spaces — a private dressing room at one of his events, requiring the two of you to be out within a certain time period — no matter how desperate or wanting he might be. Silencing your own protests with a long, hushed kiss and a skewed mischievous, flushed smile that has your heart quivering inside your chest. “Be a good girl now and wait,” he remarks before setting your disheveled collar back in order. The graceful sweep of his hand; for you to take, once you are done, ready to escort you out into the venue.  

Open but private spaces, however, where you have time to spare and none to disturb, his private beach behind his home, is where you might find yourself spread wide across soft cloth. The cool waves of the shore lapping gentle at your tightly furled toes while Rafayel’s mouth works at the slick in between your legs. Truly his idea of a well-enjoyed romantic date. 

On the note of basking in the benevolence of seas, Rafayel loves giving oral as much as he enjoys receiving it.  

He isn’t incredibly vocal when it comes to giving voice to his desires, for having your mouth on him, often because he is more than happy [and engrossed] to have his mouth do all the talking (and lapping), while you luxuriate underneath the feel of his tongue and lips, like the [his] Queen you are. He loves servicing you to completion, no matter how much his tease of a foreplay may point to, otherwise.  

It is only when your mouth takes him in for the first time, on your request do you make the delightful discovery of Rafayel’s little give-aways. The quiver of his fingers threaded firm through your hair. The clench of a fine toned abdomen, ripples of tight pleasure splaying across his torso.  

“You’re doing so well, baby— hah, just like that. What have you done to me? You’re so good.” 

The drop of his jaw, the fine, dark dusting of red smeared across his cheeks and ears. His slow, stuttered groans and pants.  A deliberate suckle at his tip has him throwing his head back at the sensation, fingers spasming against the back of your skull. Your own resistance shattering and you take him in whole, the moan that chokes out of Rafayel’s throat in reward for your efforts is heaven enough, you keep returning for more.  

Rafayel is loud and has no shame in showcasing his love and desire for you through the sounds he makes, just for you.  

Part of the reason also why he prefers privacy to public displays of affection or quick sexual encounters. And he encourages just the same for you.  

Be it the sounds of appreciation that leave his mouth, muffled and undulating, into your pussy or while he is inside of you, enjoying every single inch of your drenched, clenching flesh against his length.  

“If you squeeze me that hard, I’m going to—” 

Words fracturing apart into a long, stuttered moan he presses right against your lips. Foreheads slick with the sweat of your desires as he bears down against you. Bright blue gaze meeting yours — the gentle florid fringe of pinks — steeped in pleasure as his fingers curve about your jaw, pleading a kiss from your lips. 

“My pretty girl.” A flushed devastating grin. “Let me come inside you. I want to feel the way your body clamps around me when I do. Gods, please.” 

Rafayel is an immensely flexible lover. No rules are set in stone, no bedroom innovations entirely over-ruled before the two of you knock it at least once.  

There is no sole lead; only the steps you weave in between you two, together. He is receptive to a wide variety of tastes and kinks; ever the most studious, eager participant, save for the rare personal boundary or two, he has set in place (see above: feelings regarding public sex). 

Grasping your hand to fold a kiss against your palm as he moves within you. Bidding on sex-hoarse whispers to entrust yourself to his care while he sets to plunging your entire being into flames, pleasure so exhilarating you’re left grappling for air by the end of it all. All the while, he shapes his marks of adoration against your skin, soothing warmth to set nerves lax from all their previous exertion.  

Or, when you ask it of him, supplicates himself — a willing, grinning participant — loving, puckish desire set to blaze within his dark eyes. Tracking each single move, the delicate fingers that sketch against his heaving abdomen, the hand that moves to enclose his cock in between eager digits and pump, slow: a delectable torture. And he responds in kind to your enthusiasm, if you leave his mouth unbound and able — sings for you as you so enjoy, in that rapturous voice you so adore. Lent a lascivious flavour from how his head rolls back across his neck in the throes of incoming release, the flush of him flooding down across his chest from how aroused he is for you to be doing what you are to him.  

The sight of him in his entirety is enough for your own patience to wear paper-thin, drenched wet from the erotic picture he paints beneath you.  

Rafayel’s house is a mess. 

...Something he often brushes off as personal ‘creative choices’, declaring he finds a certain order to his disarray of things strewn about.

The colors he knows exactly where to pluck off the floor of his studio. A second draft of an upcoming painting, pinned underneath a [fish] magnet against the kitchen cabinet. A spare shirt draped across the arm of a sofa for when he wants to quickly switch out of pigment-stained clothes in between paintings.  

However, he takes special care to keep his bedroom — or at the very least, on worse days, one sofa — in acceptable, spruced order. Especially so, after you start coming over to visit or stay the weekend, accompany him on days he holes himself up in his house, to pore over an artwork. Often so preoccupied, by the time he snaps out of it, several hours later: to a velvet sky outside and you scrunched up in an upright position, with your head coasting sideways at an uncomfortable angle, in your sleep.  

The first and last time that happens as he carts you into his arms and off to his bedroom to tuck you into his bed and insists you retire to his bedroom on your own, the next morning, whenever you feel like dozing off. Making a point, then onwards to always have it ready and at your disposal.  

For sleep and when you’re both not; tangled within each other and the sheets, cooling down from your highs.  

Rafayel craves chaste physical intimacy post-coitus as he drags you into his arms, your breath warm against his chest. He despises being away from your comfort for even a moment’s breath; extra adorable and tetchy in his phase of dramatics if you try and squirm away. 

Has startled you on one particular occasion; hunched, stark naked, by the door of the bathroom as you stepped out of it. A frown knit in between his brow, a disagreeable moue to that beautiful mouth and a simple, “I’m cold, warm me.”  

An amalgamation of just how Rafayel is like and something else; deeper, you suspect it stems from unspoken fears of loneliness. There are nights you don’t quite understand, when his emotions run rampant and his need for physical affirmation and constant connection are strong; the man immediately soothed to rest the moment your hand is across his cheek, fingers caressing down the sculpt of his jaw. Tiring him at last into exhausted sleep. A vulnerability to his visage only you are allowed  to stand witness to.  

There is something so incredibly erotic about his girl when she lets him put his cock against her mouth... 

Testing every single mental fortitude, he has ever had thrown up, walls of iron built over the course of centuries, crumbling at the feeling of your wet mouth against his length. Drawing him in before you swallow him, right to the base.  

Taking his seed down your throat like the damn, amazing girl you are but if you pull back at just the right moment, firm fist bringing him to spill against your cheeks, traversing down the arc of your neck— 

Rafayel’s thoughts frizzle into a numb void, mouth agape and panting. A scarlet flush dashed across the ridge of his cheekbones, his ears, to witness your face dirtied by smears of his cum. The sight truly untethers a carnal, primitive want in him, he isn’t able to fully parse himself.  

Truly imprinted upon as the bride of the Sea God. 

Your sexual sessions are more often than not, kicked off on sensual, fun notes and back-and-forths.  

A stray jibe you might throw his way at one of his odd habits and he’s plucking you right off your feet. Nimble digits feathering down the expanse of your abdomen in retaliation before you’re reduced to giggles; both of your fingers catching at the other’s clothes in an attempt for dominance before you drift, natural, against the other’s mouth in soft, scheming smiles. 

Or, when you reach to strike the firm muscle of his behind, the sweet, silly twist to his mouth right as he startles, an indignant, scandalized gaze he rolls your way. “Why, you—” Before you reach to grasp him by the collar and drag down towards your waiting, open mouth. Lips drawing wide into a smile as you feel his reciprocated urgent squeeze across your ass; the pads of his fingers tracing the lining of your panties beneath your skirt. “Don’t make me return the favor several fold, pretty siren.” 

The bite of restive teeth he sinks into his lower lip as he hauls you up and against his rigid length. Before you reach forward, disengaging his lip, to suckle it into your own mouth. “Try me.” 

The act itself leaning more into the romance of the moment and slow, deep thrusts into your body as Rafayel drifts against you. Mouthing every piece of spare skin in sight, affirmations and assurances as clear and heard as the moans that tumble from his lips.

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