#just some thoughts. this ship is so sexy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halfvalid · 9 months

Text

through the night

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: zoro comes to the reader's room during the night. sex ensues.

tags: smut, female reader, oral (receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, kissing (a lot of it), soft zoro, first time together, confessions (kinda), fluff, no use of "y/n", banter, pwp (lowkey).

author's note: consent is sexy and so is zoro

i have up to now only watched 2 episodes of OPLA and have never consumed any other type of one piece media. expect him to be ooc. also it's my first smut fic help

It was nighttime on the Going Merry, and the dull kiss of the setting horizon drifted lazily through the single window in your room. You were lying on your bed, leaning against the headboard as you flipped through a book you’d picked up the last time the ship had been docked. It wasn’t too interesting, but it was something to pass the time with, so you stifled a yawn and flipped to the next page.

There was a knock at your door, and you glanced up, watching as the shoddy metal hinges slowly creaked open. Zoro was standing in the doorway, his broad frame blocking out nearly all the light coming in from the hall. He was still dressed in his daywear, which reminded you that you needed to change—the loose shirt and trousers you wore were, although clean, nothing near sleepwear.

“Zoro?” you asked, watching as he started into the room. You clicked your tongue before he could step another foot inside, though— “If you’re going to come in, take your shoes off.”

Zoro scoffed but obeyed, pausing by the mouth of the room to slide his heavy boots off. He tread lightly to where you lay, climbing up to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s up?”

“Can’t sleep,” Zoro answered. You moved aside to allow him some more room, centering yourself on the bed. Zoro didn’t move, though.

You raised your eyebrows. “That’s possible?”

He looked unimpressed, propping his arms under his head and leaning back so his head was splayed against your thighs. His three matching earrings glinted in the light. “Luffy and Nami are being loud. Your room’s the farthest away.”

“Your elbow is digging into my gut,” you said, turning back towards your book. Zoro rolled his eyes, but readjusted his position, pulling his arms down to instead lay folded atop his stomach. “Are you just going to nap there?”

Zoro shrugged, and you had to stifle a giggle, the sensation vaguely ticklish. He’d never been a man of many words, so you lowered your book again and went back to reading. The light in the room was dim, though; after a few minutes, the glow from the light at your bedside no longer sufficed, and you were too tired to strain your eyes to squint at the page. You could, of course, just turn on the cabin lights—but Zoro was asleep by now, and you hadn’t even liked the book that much anyway.

You set it on your nightstand, gazing down at the slumbering man in your lap. Despite the glare he so often sported, Zoro looked near-angelic in his sleep, his face all smooth planes and straight lines. Those dark eyes of his were hidden like this, black lashes splayed across his cheeks as shadows emphasized the hollows of his bone structure.

He really was beautiful, an ever-comforting presence within the Straw Hats that your eyes had always strayed to. There was a certain kind of fondness you held for him that none of the other crew members could quite compare to, although if you voiced those thoughts Luffy would probably end up giving you a lighthearted scolding. You could already imagine the teasing from the other members of the crew—Usopp and Sanji particularly—making fun of your little crush, which is why you kept your lips firmly sealed. A secret was a secret, and this was yours to keep.

You finally tore your eyes away, focusing instead on getting out of the position you’d gotten stuck in. Somewhere in the back of your mind you liked the idea of Zoro sleeping in your lap, but the clothes you wore were getting increasingly uncomfortable. You carefully slipped out from under him, cradling his head so as to support him as you gently lowered him to the mattress. Thankfully, he didn’t rouse, and you slipped to the other side of the room to open up your wardrobe, satisfied knowing you weren’t disturbing him.

You made deft work, first brushing through your hair and rinsing your face with some clean water before focusing your attention on changing your clothes. You removed your trousers, instead donning a pair of shorts. You were halfway through peeling off your blouse to replace it with a softer, silk one, when Zoro coughed from behind you.

You froze, daring to glance behind you whilst still topless. Zoro had awoken, eyes having lost all trace of sleep as he slowly sat up, staring at your figure across the room. He coughed again as soon as your eyes met, dropping his gaze. “Sorry,” he said very carefully, voice hoarse and grating.

“No, it’s okay,” you managed out, but you were still frozen. Your thoughts were on the dark look that’d been in his eyes the split-second before he’d looked away—surprised but sharp, cutting like just his gaze could pierce through your soul. Gooseflesh had prickled up along your arms.

“I’ll just… go,” Zoro muttered, already having gotten up as he started shuffling towards the door. You jolted into action, nearly dropping the shirt still in your hands as you turned towards him.

“No, you can—” your words softened, seeing his gaze flicker rapidly around your figure before finally landing on some spot by your cheek. “You can stay.” You paused, hoping your words weren’t too direct. “If you want.”

“You should put your shirt on,” Zoro said, almost choking on his words, like they were too big to fit in his mouth.

Your gaze dropped down before a steady blush started climbing up the sides of your face. “Right,” you started, but it was like you’d lost control of your hands. The shirt still hung limply from your grip.

“Or you could…” Zoro paused, lips parted as he sucked in a soft breath. Carefully, he moved back towards your bed, the only sound in the room a soft thump as he sat back on it. “Not.”

You swallowed. You could barely feel the lax of grip as your fingers released the shirt, letting it fall to the floor in one pathetic heap. You took a tentative step towards Zoro, and then another, until you were right in front of him. The soft night breeze through the window caused chills to erupt down your spine. Or maybe that was Zoro’s expression—nearly studious in his attentivity, eyes grazing across your chest and torso like he was taking in information for a new, particularly high-paying bounty.

“Zoro,” you started. He finally glanced up at your face, and you shuddered, biting down hard on your tongue. “I, um—hi.”

“Hey,” he said carefully, like he was testing the word on his tongue. Your gaze flickered down to his lips. He seemed to notice, but he didn’t say anything; rather, he raised one of his hands, pressing it against your side until his fingers tightened against your waist, a present, ever-pulsing rush of warmth. “I think my chest is bigger than yours.”

You flushed, a quick rush of crimson gracing your cheeks as you turned away. Zoro’s grip on your waist tightened, and a low laugh escaped the bottom of his throat. “That was mean,” you whined. Zoro’s other hand came up to your face, fingers pressing against the underside of your chin. He carefully angled your face down, so you couldn’t look anywhere but straight at him.

“It worked to calm you down, though,” he said easily. You were about to protest against the fact that you had been calm in the first place, but then Zoro was kissing you.

Zoro was a lot less aggressive than you’d originally expected, but as you sunk deeper into the kiss, it started to make sense. Zoro was all clean lines when he fought, practiced and perfect—no space for sloppy lines or scribbles. The way he kissed was similar; he applied pressure, but not too much pressure, and his thumb traced firm circles into the skin of your waist.

He angled your head with the hand firmly propped against your jaw, so you didn’t have to do a lot of the work—just press against his lips and move against the gentle rhythm he’d set. His teeth scraped carefully against your lower lip, and he tugged, letting a soft gasp out from your throat.

Zoro took the opportunity to pry your lips apart with his tongue, the fingers splayed against your chin coaxing your jaw open until he could slide his tongue against yours. You let out a soft whimper, hands scrambling to his shoulders and running along the muscles of his back. Of course you’d known he was well-built, but the firmness of his body forced another squeak out of you—one he was more than willing to swallow up.

Eventually, Zoro’s hand dropped from your jaw, skimming along your body line before coming to rest on the underside of one of your breasts. You gasped as he started to massage the skin with his thumb, accidentally biting down on his lower lip in the process. He groaned, the sound low as his rhythm sped up, the hand cupping your waist dropping down to your hip.

And then he was hoisting you up and onto his lap. “Oh my God,” you muttered, causing him to break away, eyes glinting with amusement.

“What?”

A heady rush had blossomed along your cheeks again. “Nothing. You.” Somewhere in the back of your head, you wondered how strong Zoro had to be to lift you off the ground so easily with only one arm—granted, it hadn’t been that far of a lift, but still. “Kiss me again.”

Zoro laughed but obeyed, his hand still working at your breast as the other dropped to your thigh. Your fingers interlaced with his short hair, tangling within the moss-green locks as his tongue ran along the ivories of your teeth. His teeth scraped against your lip as he moved away, lips instead following the line of your jaw and moving down to your neck.

You dropped your arm from his hair, hand pressing flat against his upper back. Zoro’s muscles flexed as he chased down your throat, and you sighed as he pressed gentle kisses along the line of your vein.

“Been—wanting to do this for a while,” Zoro panted between kisses, placing a final one kiss at the junction of your collarbone before glancing tentatively back up at you. You met his mouth in another kiss, a smile you hadn’t felt rising bright along your cheekbones.

“Me too,” you whispered, and a look of relief flashed across his face before he was ducking his head again to press more kisses along your neck. You let out a laugh—you could feel the rumble of his lips against the sound as it left your throat. Carefully, you ran your finger along his earrings, soft clinks filling the room at the action. “What was that? Did you think I didn’t?”

“Dunno,” Zoro muttered, and you laughed again before he nipped at your skin, teeth scratching in a gentle bite. At your chest, his hand squeezed your nipple, and you gasped.

“That was mean.”

“Mhm.” Zoro didn’t seem appeased, his kisses turning sloppier—open-mouthed, full of bite. He never pressed down hard enough to hurt, but your mouth was full of soft gasps and whines, and your hand had come down to clench against his bicep. God, his arms. “I don’t hear you complaining.”

You nudged him, meaning only for it to be a slight press. But Zoro let the action guide him, falling onto his back with you pressed against him, flat against the bed. He stilled, both hands dropping to your hips as he gaze lifted to drink you in.

You were certain you were a mess—blushing, lips probably swollen, bruise blossoms that would purple by morning scattered all along your neck. But the way he looked at you made it seem like you were all dolled up—like you were outfitted in a flowing gown, eyes sparkling and hair perfect instead of the mess it most undoubtedly was.

“You’re pretty,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear. Actually, you were certain you weren’t supposed to hear it, because before you could respond, he was pulling you across him, fluidly rolling you onto your back. His forearm pressed against the mattress beside your head, caging you in. Zoro seemed to like this angle, moving down your neck to your chest with more gentle kisses.

You were content to let him take what he wanted, eyes not moving from his face as you watched his lips brush over your breast. His tongue was hot against your skin, and you sucked in a tight breath as he swirled it along your nipple. Zoro steadied you with a firm grasp, hand pressing against your side before pushing up to attend to the breast that his mouth wasn’t. You squirmed, a soft pool of warmth sitting in your lower belly as he worked. A tight knot had formed somewhere inside, and you let out a breathy gasp.

Zoro’s gaze traced lower, hand leaving your breast in favor of skidding down your figure to rest at the hand of your shorts. He paused, eyes flickering upwards to meet yours. Hastily, you nodded, and his fingers dipped below the cloth, head lowering to press another kiss by your hip bone. Your hands clenched against the bed sheets as his fingers skimmed the rim of your shorts, coaxing them down inch by inch before they finally slid down to your knees. You kicked them off insistently, and Zoro laughed, one hand coming to stroke your thigh as if to make you stop moving.

Even though you’d partly expected it, you hadn’t been ready for the soft kiss he pressed against your inner thigh. His hand hooked around the side of your panties, dragging them down as he kissed up your skin, and you took in a sharp breath that he wholly and entirely ignored. His movements became more insistent as you squirmed, open-mouth and biting, tongue darting out from between his lips to languidly swipe up your thigh. Finally he reached the junction of your thigh and core, mouth pressing a feather-light kiss that dragged an entirely shameful sound out from your throat.

Zoro pushed your panties all the way off your hips, letting them sit by your knees even as you squirmed to kick them off. “Shh,” he murmured, and you stopped, heart pounding as the sound sunk deep into your bloodstream. The tight knot in your lower belly had only grown tighter, and your breath caught in your throat as you watched Zoro, his eyes flickering all around your exposed core.

He ran a finger along the side of your slit, and you shuddered, watching as he experimentally traced it across your folds. He lowered his head to your hips, pressing a kiss onto your clit. You were barely able to suppress the buck of your hips as Zoro’s hand came to rest on your thigh, pinning you down as his other hand worked along your core.

His finger found your vagina, carefully sinking between your folds as his tongue worked languid circles around your clit. You let out a moan, voice stuttering against your throat as his finger slipped deeper inside you. It only took him a few moments to push another one in, the soft scrape of his cut fingernails eliciting sparks that drew another breathy moan out of you.

“Isn’t it a little—unfair that I’m the only one not wearing anything?” you managed out between breaths, and Zoro stopped his motions, head lifting and eyes glancing up at you from under his lashes. One of his eyebrows arched in question, and his lips were glossy with your fluids, causing your core to squeeze around his fingers. Somehow, he didn’t even seem to notice the motion.

“Oh, that’s what you want to focus on right now?” he murmured, all low and throaty. He always spoke low-pitched, vocal chords all brash and grating from the back of his throat, but his voice hummed even deeper now, although that didn’t seem humanly possible. Your muscles clenched again, and Zoro’s gaze dipped down to where his fingers were still pushed inside of you. He fluidly pressed in deeper, fingers curling inside your body before pulling out and working back in. Your retort was lost as you moaned again, the tight feeling of your gut slowly unwinding as he moved back and forth inside of you.

His mouth lowered to lick at your clit again, and you cried out, barely suppressing a scream as his fingers dug, more insistent, inside of you. He pressed one final kiss against your clit, and then sat back, eyes fixed on working at your core instead. His fingers pumped in and out, steady and fluid. Your breaths came out breathy and broken, climbing closer and closer to your climax until he finally reached the summit inside of you.

“Come,” Zoro whispered, the hand not taking care of you running reassuringly along your thigh. You came suddenly, hips stuttering from where’d they’d lifted off the mattress, a cry ripping out of your throat. Zoro slowly slipped his fingers out of you, rubbing soothing circles into your inner thigh as you ran out your climax. Your breaths evened out, becoming less deep, less frantic; Zoro watched all the while, a glossy shine over his eyes and the faintest of smiles pressed along his lips.

You tilted your gaze down to his face, catching him just as he started to move again. The fingers drenched in your fluids came up to his mouth, and he licked them clean. Your stomach dropped, somehow already turning you on despite having come just mere seconds beforehand.

“My turn,” Zoro said softly, sitting up to start unbuttoning his shirt. You hoisted yourself up, hands skimming along the sheets beside him, uncertain of whether he wanted you to touch. You glimpsed a stiff tent in his pants as he sat up, and swallowed hard, eyeing the pull with apprehension.

“Do you want me to—” you tried gesturing down to his hips, but he caught your hand swiftly, pressing it against the buttons of his shirt. “What do you want?”

“Sex,” Zoro said. Nothing else. You held back the choke that dared to escape your throat, and a sheepish grin crossed his face. It was lopsided, nearly a smirk, if not for the genuine warmth glimmering at his eyes. “Sorry. That was vague.”

“It’s okay,” you assured, stifling a laugh. Your hands worked fastidiously at his buttons. It took far longer than you felt it should’ve, fingers all clumsy as you tugged them through their holes, unlooping them from where it fixed the cloth together. Soon enough, though, Zoro was stripping the last of the fabric off, tossing it carelessly across the room before pulling you into another kiss.

He was sloppier now that you’d come, more comfortable in his element—you could taste the tang of yourself on his lips, and you let out a sigh, hands moving down his figure to work at his belt. He had to stop kissing you to tug at his pants, pushing them down his legs before finally kicking them off fully.

You ducked your head to press a kiss at his navel, eyes tracing the length that jutted out from his hips. Your breath caught, gaze fixed to a pale vein running up the line of his length. “Up,” Zoro murmured, and you glanced up. Zoro pressed a long kiss to your mouth, one hand skimming around your butt to pull you up by the headboard. He ran a hand over your core, as if to ascertain you were relaxed enough for him.

“Do you have anything for it?” he murmured, lips sending chills down your back as he pressed a soft kiss at your jaw.

“I’m on the pill, yeah,” you huffed out, arms winding around his torso. Zoro hummed his response, fingers running up and down your thigh as he adjusted, hips sliding against yours to meet your core.

You sucked in a breath, but he was gentle with it, pushing in slowly, hand running along your lower back and coaxing you still. The sensation sparked tingles all over your body; up your spine, along your hips, down your legs like Zoro was electricity himself. You let out a little sigh as he pushed up to his hilt into you, hips stuttering against his as you both paused for breath. He brushed a ghost of a kiss along your lips. “Okay?” Zoro murmured.

“Perfect,” you answered, arms clutching tighter around him, fingers digging into his back. You hoped it wasn’t too sharp, but considering how big Zoro was, it was likely he barely felt the pressure—the crescents of your fingernails were probably just pinpricks to him.

Zoro started moving, then, his actions soft and fluid at first, fingers pressing reassuring circles into your waist and hips. He was nearly tender with it, motions languid and slow, like he had all the time in the world. Your breaths came out easy, soft and just barely edging towards gasps.

He started thrusting with more insistence soon, though; Zoro’s hips bucked against yours, and your grip tightened along his shoulder blades as he pushed in and out of you. Soft gasps and whines left your throat, in stark contrast to the heavy groans and grunts that barely stuttered past Zoro’s lips.

“Like that,” you said, barely able to let out words of encouragement as he hit your sweet spot, buried deep inside of you. You let out a throaty moan as he moved faster and faster, thrusts becoming harder and more aggressive. You knocked your head back, one of your hands reaching to grab Zoro’s from where it propped him up by your head. He welcomed the invitation quickly, fingers interlacing with yours, coaxing your palm open into a kiss of your hands. His thrusts worked harder than ever, and you stopped chasing the friction, letting your hips buck up against his as he shoved into you.

A low groan erupted from his throat as he hit your spot again, mouth coming down to bite into your shoulder as he suppressed the cry that tore from his mouth. You swallowed, gasping hard for breath as you felt him come inside you, your walls clenching tight around him before you also felt the familiar burst of pressure. You let out a gasping moan, mind buzzing with sparks and tingles. Vaguely, you felt Zoro’s hand against your hip, moving up and down in calming strokes.

It took a moment for you both to recover, coming down from the blissful high after long seconds ticked by. Zoro removed his mouth from your shoulder, carefully prying his jaw off from your skin. He scrutinized the marks he’d left—crescents of teeth, undoubtedly—before lowering his head again to press an apologetic kiss to the bite. You laughed in surprise.

“I can be a gentleman,” Zoro protested lightly, though his words didn’t hold much of a fight as he carefully slid out of you. He did it slowly, inch by inch, leaving a hollow sensation in his wake when he eventually parted from you. “You okay?”

“Lovely,” you answered honestly, eyes grazing up his chest before meeting his. “You?”

“I’m good,” Zoro answered, a vague smile on his lips. It was soft, tender; maybe not as big as ones you’d seen when he was laughing with the crew, but special nonetheless. He studied you for a moment, and you took the opportunity to trace his face with your eyes. His pupils were blown, slowly receding back into small dots of shadow, and his lips were kissed red, swollen over and glossy with your saliva. “Want me to draw a bath?”

“No,” you said, content just to watch him like this. “We can clean up in the morning, it’s getting late.” You hesitated, suddenly uncertain, teeth tugging at your lower lip. “Unless… you want to go?”

Zoro snorted. “No, I think I like it here,” he decided. He sat up, reaching to pull the blankets over your figure so the gooseflesh you hadn’t even noticed on your skin would subside. “Too tired to move, anyway. Might stay here forever.”

“Dramatic ass,” you mumbled, wrapping a hand around his wrist and tugging him closer to you. Zoro obeyed, sliding beside you, one arm moving to wrap around your waist. “Go to sleep, you big dummy.”

Zoro’s breath was light against the shell of your ear. “That was unwarranted.”

“Sleep,” you insisted, and Zoro huffed, reaching the arm that wasn’t around you to the nightstand. He flicked the lantern off, then turned back towards you, finally settling down. His lips pressed a soft kiss along your shoulder, and you smiled, your hand reaching down to meet where his was splayed along your belly.

“Good night,” you whispered.

“Night,” he mumbled back, the end of the word tapering off into a soft, tired breath. You could feel his chest move, up and down in a steady, soft rhythm. You buried your head into the crook of his arm, letting out a contented sigh before finally closing your eyes to drift off to sleep.

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #smut #reader insert #x reader #opla #one piece live action #one piece netflix #roronoa zoro smut #opla zoro x reader #opla fanfiction #opla fanfic #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #kiki writes!

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pickingupmymercedes · 1 month

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The things we do for fashion - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

request: "Hey, drop something happy and sexy to get over this terrible weekend with Lewis in merc with that terrible strategy and that bad tire performance, burn that car pls. Thank you" - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie.

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Cutesy and fun smut, little to no plot, as all my smuts tend to be. Also, been gone (with food poisoning) but this request had to be written.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT.

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You started it without any intention for it to end like it did. An innocent clean-up of his spare closet was all it was meant to be. But, living with Lewis was seldom your typical experience, and things with him had a knack for turning into something else entirely within a matter of minutes.

You had the day off and your self-appointed task of the day was relatively simple: get Lewis's paddock outfits out of the boxes Eric had shipped them in and organize them on the racks so Lewis could see the full fit. It should have taken you less than two hours, ample time to spare until Lewis returned from the factory. At least, that's what you thought.

In the middle of the room, you sat surrounded by half-open boxes and only a few racks filled when you heard Lewis call out from the entrance of his London home.

"Hey, love! How's it going in here?"

You scrambled to your feet, pushing aside the box you were sorting through and greeted him with a sheepish smile. "Uh, not quite as planned, to be honest."

Lewis chuckled as he walked over to you, glancing at the mess of boxes and clothes. "Mind if I have a look at what you've got so far?"

"Go ahead, just…it's not finished yet." you said, a little embarrassed.

Lewis began to sift through the clothes, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he pulled out some of the pieces he recalled were his favorites.

"Oh, I've been looking forward this one!" he exclaimed, holding up a vibrant red jacket. "And these trousers! I can't wait to wear this combo."

He continued to go through the clothes, commenting on each piece he was excited to wear. The excitement in his voice infectious, getting you to instantly smile at his enthusiasm.

As he reached the bottom of one of the boxes, his hand paused on a piece of clothing. A black sleeveless turtleneck, skin-tight and oh so sleek.

"Oh, I love this one," you whispered, unable to hide your admiration.

A subtle shift occurred in Lewis's expression. His eyes meeting yours, a hint of intrigue and desire in them.

"You really think so?" his voice already lower, almost to a husky whisper.

"Yeah," you admitted, feeling a rush of heat spread through you. "They accentuate your biceps really well."

A wicked grin spread across Lewis's face, and he took a step closer, the atmosphere in the room growing more intense. "Is that so?" his murmur mimicking his eyes darkening with desire. "Maybe you'd like to see just how well it accentuates them?"

Your breath caught in your throat as Lewis took his sweats off and then slowly pulled the turtleneck over his head, revealing the defined muscles of his biceps. The fabric clung to him perfectly, emphasizing every contour and curve.

"Like what you see?" he teased, his voice low and seductive.

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your eyes away from him. "More than you'll ever know."

With a playful smirk, Lewis leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, the intensity of the moment leaving no doubt that this innocent closet clean-up had taken a decidedly spicy turn.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, the heat between you palpable. You responded eagerly, your hands roaming over his toned chest and back, reveling in the feel of his muscles beneath your touch.

Lewis's hands trailed up your spine, sending shivers down your back, and he broke the kiss to pepper soft, lingering kisses along your jawline and neck. His breath was warm against your skin, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

"God, you drive me crazy," his murmurs against your skin, voice husky with desire.

You gasped as he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you over to the nearby sofa and gently laying you down. He hovered over you, his eyes dark with passion, and you reached up to pull him down for another searing kiss.

The world seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body with a gentleness that belied the intensity of his desire. Time seemed to stand still as you explored each other, the connection between you deepening with every touch, every caress.

Eventually, you both came up for air, breathless and flushed with desire. Lewis's eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of love, lust, and something deeper, something more profound.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with love and contentment.

With a simple exchange, the atmosphere in the room shifted once again, the intense passion giving way to a more tender, intimate connection. You held yourself up by his shoulders, drawing your body close to his, feeling his growing arousal through the fabric of his briefs. Between lingering kisses, his hand found its way to your core, teasing your clit through the fabric of your panties and shorts. Your moans filled the room, mingling with his as his lips stubbornly refused to leave your own.

Growing impatient with the teasing, you took hold of his wrists, his eyes opening wide with a mix of surprise and concern. "Lew, no teasing, please," you murmured in a ragged voice, locking eyes with him. His smirk formed slowly, mischief dancing in his eyes. "You don’t get to start this and not see it through, baby girl," he whispered, his voice incredibly low as he breathed in your scent. His arms wrapped around your legs and waist, effortlessly laying you down once again.

His fingers skillfully undid the silk ribbon of your shorts, slowing down each movement as his eyes met yours, his kisses trailing lower on your body. "When you see me wearing this turtleneck, I want you to remember me eating you up in it," he whispered against your skin.

Reaching your core, he caressed you for a moment before pulling the cotton fabric to the side, blowing gently on your sensitive skin before kissing you, causing your body to quiver in anticipation. Soon, his tongue was exploring every inch of you, his thumb on your clit and two fingers teasing your entrance.

"We need to get you ready, huh?" he said, not waiting for your response before curling his fingers inside you, the angle and traction causing you to writhe in pleasure, reaching your first climax, completely captivated by his touch.

Stepping away from the sofa to remove his sweatpants and boxers, you mustered the energy and courage to sit up and grab his arms before he could take the turtleneck off. "You, sir, you stay just like that while I engrave into my memory how ridiculously hot you look," you said with a playful smirk.

Kneeling in front of him, you took his member in one hand, the other tracing his abdomen beneath the fabric. The sensation of his growing body hair, his precum leaking from the tip, and the low whimpers from the man – who you literally had in your hands – left you feeling overwhelmingly elated.

His hands on the back of your head guided the rhythm as you took him into your mouth, the head of his dick reaching further with each thrust, synchronizing perfectly with your movements. If it weren’t for his hands on your cheeks and the fiery intensity in his eyes, you could have continued for hours.

The raw passion and connection between you two made every touch, every kiss, and every glance get you two more connected than the last. So, when he reached for your arms, he didn’t need to say he was more than ready to take you, fully. His hands on your waist guided you to one of the arms of the sofa, steadying you with one hand while the other spread your leg to get better access.

His first stroke was always the slowest; this time, though, it felt like torture. His eyes closed as he reached deeper and deeper, moans leaving his mouth and yours as you both adjusted to each other, his body coming closer to yours as he embraced you, his lips connecting to yours almost mindlessly. "Babe, I swear… it never gets easier holding myself back."

His thrusts got harder and faster as he continued, your moans turning into gasps the closer you got to another orgasm, his dick ever so slightly brushing that spot that got you whimpering, just for him to smirk down at you and change the angle. He wanted to build the pressure so he could choose when to release it; he was in control, and he knew how to show it.

Just after your eyes started welling up from the overstimulation, he pulled both of your legs behind his neck, making sure he reached your cervix and g-spot each time. His dick throbbing and his thrusts deepened as he let out a guttural groan, his seeds filling you as you saw white, his pubic bone hitting your clit just right one last time.

The room was filled with heavy breaths and a lingering warmth as you both came down from your high. Lewis’s expression soft and his eyes filled with tenderness and care as he looked at you "You okay?" his question gentle, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed but safe in his arms. "Yeah, just a bit worn out, I guess." Lewis smiled warmly, pulling you closer to him. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, as he carefully helped you sit up and stood to grab a towel from the nearby bathroom.

Returning to your side, he dampened the towel with warm water and began to gently clean you up, taking care not to cause any discomfort. Once he was satisfied that you were comfortable, Lewis took off the turtleneck he had been wearing, putting it aside to be washed before sitting back down beside you on the small sofa.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, offering you comfort and warmth. You snuggled into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear. The intensity of the moment had passed, replaced by a comforting sense of closeness and affection.

"The room's a bit of a state, isn't it?" Lewis remarked after a while, bringing you back from the haze you found yourself in, glancing around at the mess of clothes and scattered belongings. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us." You chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess we do. But I wouldn't want to clean up this mess with anyone else."

"The things we do for fashion..." Lewis quipped with a playful smirk. You couldn't help but laugh at his remark, the tension in the room dissipating as you both shared a moment of lightheartedness, wrapped in each other's arms.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton #f1 x reader #ella asks

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angelfoxx · 9 months

Note

I just know Keegan looks so god damn hot in his casual clothing, going to bed in loose grey boxers and an old band shirt that rides up his stomach when he lies down, AND GOOD GOD his happy traillll😫I feel like he’s one of those guys with really bushy happy trails, doesn’t even know how sexy you find it. He’s lying in bed, one of his big arms around your shoulders while reading an old book. Raises an eyebrow when your hand starts wandering up his thigh, fingertips dipping under the waistband of his boxers..

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ❝ NEED SOMETHING? ❞

…in which keegan entertains your perversions.

FEATURING: keegan p russ.

WARNINGS: keegan being a sexy motherfucker. also me giving him a tatted sleeve because it’s sexy and who the hell is gonna tell me no. also me drooling over his happy trail bc HAPPY TRAILS HAPPY TRAILS LOOOOOOOORD

NOTE/S: oh my god

It’s not your fault, really. Feeling like this. It’s not your fault.

It’s his.

He’s not ignoring you. His arm, slung up on your shoulders, is just a heavy, toned reminder that he’s with you. His attention is just elsewhere.

You aren’t totally sure what book he’s reading. Probably something of Stephen King’s. Last week, it had been Christine. The week prior, It. You hadn’t bothered checking; if it was a low-stress week, he’d tell you all about it once he finished it, true book-critic style. In any case, he’s got the thing casually in his lap, spread open by a splayed hand. He’s got a simple silver band on his middle finger, gnarled and twisted like barbed wire — every now and then, he taps it, just an occasional beat of sound as if to remind you that he’s right there.

You’re ogling his hand, now. He doesn’t seem to notice.

Your eyes travel upward. He’s got a pretty sleeve of black-and-white tattoos; churning ocean waves, storm-battered whitecaps, tossing ships. He’d explained it the first time you’d seen it; something about how he found peace in the chaos of an ocean storm. Just standing in a place where there was no resistance that he could give. Surrendering to the fury of nature. Something like that. It’s…um, attractive. Yeah. You swallow and resist the sudden urge to squeeze your legs together.

The top of that sleeve — thick, billowing clouds — vanishes under the edge of his tee. Charcoal-gray, emblazoned with the title of an old rock band that you’d never really heard of prior to meeting him. He’s still wearing his dog-tag, hanging on a silver chain around his neck and rising on his chest every time he breathes.

Christ, you should stop staring.

His shirt’s ridden up on his stomach, and god, you really shouldn’t look because then you won’t be able to look away. But you do look, because what are you if not a swooning idiot for the sniper sitting beside you?

Every time he breathes, his stomach sinks in and you can see the outline of his abs. God. Fucking Christ. You can see the outline of his abs but not really the middle, because along the middle he’s proudly sporting a long line of short black curls.

You’re basically salivating.

He’s just got some loose gray boxers on, sitting dangerously low on his hips. He’s left the v-line of his hips exposed; your senses are on high alert, eyes catching on every little mole spotting his waist, every little white scar, the edge of the paw-print tattoos he has just below his stomach (it’s where Riley’s front feet go when the dog stands up on his hind legs, tail wagging and tongue lolling), and it’s such a cute little tattoo but your thoughts are anything but and—

“Don’t forget to blink.”

You flinch like you’ve been shot. Your mind goes blank, and your gaze shoots upward.

Tiny smirk caught in the corner of his mouth, Keegan looks down at you with lidded, quietly humored eyes. They seem brilliantly blue, moreso than usual — though maybe that’s just the lighting in here. His hair’s a mess; short and still damp from his earlier shower, undercut scrubbing against your arm as he turns his head, just a little, one eyebrow raised. There’s a little scar through his left one; the hair splits unevenly there. You’ve told him several times that you find it sexy.

He agrees.

“What?” Your mouth feels like it’s filled with a fat wad of cotton. You feel like your thoughts are visible in your eyes.

“Don’t play stupid.” His response is honey-smooth. “I’m not dumb.”

“I didn’t say y…you were.” You swallow. “I’m just sitting here.”

“Mm.” Keegan narrows his eyes. “Mhm.”

And then he goes back to that book.

It’s kind of ridiculous, how hard you stare at his hand holding that book open. It’s almost pathetic, actually. You’re sure he’d say the same if he knew exactly what thoughts were running through your head right now. Pinkie finger on one page, index on the other, middle and ring both resting so lightly along the inseam of the spine.

Christ.

Trying to shake yourself out of your own head, you turn yourself inwards. Keegan needs no words; his arm tightens around you, hand sliding down to your hip and tugging it over so that you’re fully facing his side, head resting against his chest and body slung down along his leg. It’s comfortable like this; it goes without saying that he’s built like a motherfucker and so his pec is a comfortable resting-place for your head. He’s warm, too, deliciously so; his body heat seeps up through his tee, prickling against your skin. He’s comfy, so comfy; on other nights, you’d fallen asleep like this, cuddled up to his side with one of his arms wrapped around you. Those nights were sweet; when time started to slow and all of your senses started to bleed together, you always heard him call your name, so quiet you wouldn’t catch it if you were awake. When you didn’t answer, he’d laugh — and then you’d hear the rustle of sheets as he stooped over and pressed a little kiss to the top of your head.

You weren’t totally sure if he knew that you knew he did that.

Tonight, though, you can’t do that. You can’t fathom it, because your hand is just itching to move. It’s just casually resting against his thigh — god, his fucking thighs, hard and thick and oh, you have to stop ogling him. You have to stop thinking about how that muscle feels, flexing so slightly under your hand as it moves up.

Moves up?

Oh.

Oops.

Keegan doesn’t say anything when your hand cups the warm spot between his legs. He lets out a short breath — it almost sounds like a laugh. There’s a curve taking shape on his lips, and his eyes glint with humor as he shifts, purposefully pushing his pelvis so slightly up into your palm.

The weight of his dick pushes between your fingers and your legs instinctively snap together. Above you, Keegan’s breath cracks into a nearly-silent laugh.

He’s onto you.

You bite your lip, risking a glance up at him as you do. He isn’t looking at you; he’s still reading, hawkish blue eyes scanning from left to right, over and over again. The hand on your hip lightly squeezes a handful of your thigh.

His hips roll so slightly up again. He’s daring you to continue.

Cocky sonofabitch. You swallow as you move your hand up, up, over the slight angular swell of his abdomen and up past the elastic of his boxers. For a moment, you rake your fingers up his abs and you shudder in response to the way his stomach flexes and his breathing oh-so-slightly breaks.

No words. Just the sound of him turning the page.

Bitch. You bite your tongue as you shift your head around. You can hear his heart thumping beneath your ear, and — god fucking dammit — it’s not beating quicker at all. It’s like you can’t disturb him. Get under his skin like he gets under yours.

You pick at the elastic of his waistband. On one hand? You’re rubbing your legs together, biting your tongue, and there’s a million and one dirty images in your head. You can practically hear Keegan’s growl in your ear: too needy to sit still, princess?

But on the other hand, he’s being mean. He’s ignoring you and all of your signs. And you kind of want to just roll over and go to sleep and maybe, just maybe, he’d been hoping for you to go further.

But you won’t. So he’ll get frustrated, and then it’ll be him slowly reaching his hand under the elastic of your waistband, fingers curving over the shape of your body and feeling for wet warmth. He’ll breathe in your ear with that stupid rasp of his and he’ll ask, voice raw, if you were really planning on hanging me out to dry like that? and you’ll say maybe I was.

Or he’ll get frustrated, but he’ll reach into his own pants. He’ll leave you alone, but you’ll wake up to the quiet sound of his muted groans and his hand stroking back and forth under the thin material of his boxers and then maybe he’ll do that thing where he tips his head back, swallows, and his eyes flutter shut and he cursed, quiet and hoarse.

Or maybe—

“Cold feet?” There he is again, short phrases and little questions. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking at his book, tilting his head as he turns the page. He raises an eyebrow to you, tongue clasped between his teeth.

“What?”

No response this time. Keegan’s eyes shift over to you; he cocks his head in your direction, and under that messy black mop of hair and those thick black lashes that you’ve always been envious of, Keegan silently asks if you’re really going to play this fucking dumb.

You’ve arrived at a stalemate. You don’t move. He doesn’t speak. You two just stare at each other, blinking back-and-forth like a tennis volley until Keegan finally sighs and looks away. His eyes return to the book.

You’re about to snap, ready to rip the godforsaken thing out of his lap, when the hand on your hip shifts. His arm lifts off of your back; it pulls around your shoulders instead, crushing you into his armpit.

His fingers clasp around your wrist, and you catch the undeniable edge of a smirk on his face before he takes your hand and pulls it into his pants.

get fucking cliffhanger’d bitches

#cod smut #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #keegan x reader #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan smut #cod keegan #LORDDDD

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honeyshiddendesire · 1 month

Text

Dirty Alphabet

Pairing: Zoro x female reader

*banner*

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man is a total sleepyhead but unless you really need something then he’ll get it for you but he’ll definitely tease you that he fucked you so good your legs don’t work

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I can see him as a tits man, just when you think he’s dozing off he’s sneaking a peek any chance he gets. Sanji isn’t the only one that can appreciate a good rack. His favorite body part on him is his hands for being able to hold his swords and you, hidden romantic at heart

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves making a mess on you for sure, will even smear his cum all around and taunt you on how messy you are

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to see you grind on his swords. The thought of you making his sheaths all shiny with your pretty juices makes his cock rock solid but he doesn’t want to freak you out so he just uses that fantasy to jerk off. If you asked him though by some rare chance that you might also have the same kink then don't be shocked by how fast he says yes

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

That man is a sexy ass living piece of art. I'm sure he has some experience but I don't think he’s good at being the one to initiate.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything with a view of your tits to watch them jiggle and bounce. Needing to be close to them so he can suck and lick them, marking them for when you wear low cut tops

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Nah I can’t see him cracking to many jokes but I see him being a total tease

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He don’t have time to shave or trim he’s to busy training or napping

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Being on the same ship as that ‘dumb cook’ makes you learn a thing or two so I can see him bringing flowers but not saying anything sweet, just handing you some and looking off to the side. Lighting a few candles cause he likes seeing the light flicker off of your body as you’re bouncing on his cock.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Tbh for him it would be a training exercise, like building arm strength and stamina. But also to blow off some mental steam

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Loves dirty talk, he might not be good at romantic words but best believe he’ll have your panties off in a second with the way he can rile you up.

Wrestling kink lol ask him to wrestle or even say that you can pin him down and that man will go absolutely wild just to pin you down underneath him

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Wherever he trains the most is were he’s gonna want to fuck you the most. It’s his safe space and wrecking you in it just sounds like a perfect plan

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your tits, and if you’re a brat who doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut he’s on go lol Zoro loves a challenge and being with a brat that can hold her own is all the fuel to his fire that he needs

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Having a threesome with the cook is a no go lol the stories are hot but realistically I can’t see it happening unless it’s to show you that he can fuck you better but sharing you in a relationship is a no.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves giving it’s a workout for him. With his fighting style there’s no way that he wouldn’t want to absolutely wreck you with his tongue. As for receiving I can see him being obsessed with the 69 position or even reverse 69 so he can fuck your face and eat you at the same time

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Mix of both for sure

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yup it’s another form of training lol but you have to be the one to bug him about it or he’ll just tease you

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Public sex in the crow’s nest I can totally see happening while he whispers that you better keep it down before someone hears

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He doesn’t train everyday for nothing so best believe this green haired hottie can outlast you

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Don’t insult the man lol He is the toy lol but like his bandana though will definitely find it’s way into a few of your sex sessions

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The meanest but you love it , he lives to tease you every chance he gets

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dirty talkkkerrrrr!!! The sexiest raspy moans and groans ever, kissing along your neck so his deep voice just vibrates against your skin making you melt in the palm of his hands.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves making you squirm and brat taming you. If you happen to be an obedient chick then I can see him trying to pick a fight just to make you moody so he can fuck the attitude out of you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Thick, veiny, long all the traits you can want in a dick just saying lol

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high but he also loves loves sleep so its a always a battle of the too lol

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Unless you need something that man will hit the snooze button immediately but he’ll make sure that he doesn’t crush you if he happened to be on top lol

#roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro smut #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro smut #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #zoro one piece #zoro one piece smut #one piece smut #one piece headcanons #one piece smut Headcannons #zoro headcanons #honeys works 🍯

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decembermidnight · 2 months

Text

Beskar and Pearls

Summary: Wearing the luxurious gift the Mandalorian gave you while accompanying him on a business trip turns out to be a pleasurable torture.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: no plot - just smut, 18+ MDNI, teasing in public, Dom!Din, sub!reader, possessive!Din, lots of dirty talk, Din being a sexy arrogant asshole, glove kink, masculinity kink, humiliation kink, hair pulling, unprotected rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism kink, multiple orgasms, multiple creampies (wtf is a refractory period), a hint of overstimulation

A/N: the most coherent thoughts I have while ovulating. I have no excuse. This is FILTHYYYY I hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!! Also a big thank you to @thefrogdalorian for making sure it's written in decent English and to @saradika-graphics for the perfect divider 💕

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

The Mandalorian has just landed his ship on Nevarro after spending an entire month catching quarries in the outer rim. He has been away most of the time, but he made sure he'd make up for it every time he came back, too proud and stubborn to admit with words that he missed you, but demonstrating it by spoiling you with luxurious gifts and his body.

You look at him in reverential adoration as he dresses in his armour – a blend of his Mandalorian heritage and the many trophies he acquired from his victims, dark red in colour and dented after many close encounters with death.

He's just finished strapping weapons everywhere on his marvellous body when he addresses you.

“Hey. Got this for you. Wear it. We’re going to the market, I have some business to attend to,” Mando says as he hands you a small drawstring pouch he was hiding in his utility belt.

You immediately open it and its content leaves you speechless. It’s the sexiest piece of underwear you’ve ever seen – an expensive-looking black lace thong with just a string of pearls meant to go between your pussy lips.

If he wants you to wear it while in Nevarro, a lawless planet full of dangerous bounty hunters, you will wear it under the shortest skirt you have. The mere thought of his eyes glued to your ass, hoping to get a glimpse of it while being vigilant of other men at the same time, makes your head spin. You let out an aroused sigh and look at him, impassive as always behind the dark visor.

“That should keep you busy,” Mando chuckles and tilts his helmet.

You immediately wear it along with that short, flowy dress that also happens to be his favourite one on you.

“Let me see it,” he says as his hands grab you by the waist. He brings you closer to him and immediately lifts your skirt. He kneels before you and lets out a satisfied hum when he sees the tempting way the pearls disappear into your slit. The Mandalorian lingers there, dark visor trained on that heavenly view as his gloved hands caress your thighs. The sharp contrast between the coarse leather and your delicate, soft skin gives you a thrill of pleasure. You guess – you hope – the trip won’t take long.

His chestplate rises and falls as he struggles to catch his breath and maintain his composure at the sight of your perfect cunt dressed in pearls. It’s incredible to see how something so dainty could turn out to be so perverse and sinful.

“Come on. Let’s go now,” he says as he stands up. Now at his full height, his imposing figure resumes towering over yours. You admire him in awe, taking in the broadness of his body and the way his armour magnificently highlights it.

He offers you his hand to descend the ramp and as soon as you start walking, you understand why he said that it would keep you busy. With every step that you take, the pearls pleasurably rub against your clit. You can feel yourself getting wet already. There's an aroused expression on your face that Mando does not miss.

"Are you enjoying it?" he asks teasingly.

"Yes," you answer and bite your lip.

"Good,” you can hear how pleased he is seeing you like that after you’ve barely taken a few steps out of the ship. You know the thought of you being so aroused in public while having to control yourself is making him hard. You decide to play his game, see where this leads.

Mando is walking right behind you, strutting proudly as he stalks you like a hunter follows its prey. You feel his gaze trained on your butt, so you accentuate the swaying of your hips to get more friction from the pearls and to seduce him even further, hoping to get a reaction from him.

"Shake your ass as much as you want, you're not getting anything until I'm done here. You're only getting this scum to see how pretty you are. I like it," he slaps your ass and chuckles. You bite your lip to muffle a whimper.

"See the way they're looking at you? If they dare even think of touching you, their dead body will touch the ground before they lay one finger on you," he whispers in your ear as he grabs your hand and positions it over his blaster.

"You are mine," he growls in your ear as he wraps his other hand around your waist. He pulls you close, until the flustered, naked skin of your back touches his cold beskar chest plate. A thrill of excitement traverses your whole body and goes straight between your legs.

No one would be so stupid to touch you, not when a Mandalorian is claiming you as his, not when you can feel his erection against your ass. The whole thing is making you light-headed with arousal, so much that you start to shamelessly rub your ass against his cock. His hand tightens its grasp around your waist as your head rolls back to rest on his shoulder. You sigh in his neck and his hand trails up and wraps around your throat.

"Behave now," the Mandalorian growls as you feel his fingers tightening their grasp, trying to restrain himself from giving into lust already.

“I want you,” you whisper in his neck.

“I know,” he replies confidently before releasing you. What an arrogant motherfucker. You want to make him so hard he’ll want to bring you back to the ship and fuck your brains out, putting his desire for you before his stupid pride and his business. You want him to surrender to his carnal instinct.

The more steps you take, the more desperate you become for relief from this agonising, yet pleasurable torture. The pearls are stimulating your clit mercilessly, without ever getting you close to an orgasm. Your cunt spasms and clenches and what's worse is that he knows. Mando has spent so long quietly studying his bounties that he can tell by the irregular way you're breathing that you're struggling with the sensation. You bet he's enjoying every second of it, smirking under the helmet.

Just before entering the market area, he pulls you closer to him one more time, making you gasp.

"Now be quiet. You wouldn't want to fuck up my business. Be a good girl," he whispers softly in your ear as you feel his hand on your lower belly—close, so close to where you want him the most. Maker, he’s rock hard. You can feel it. You can’t think of anything else when his erection is pressing against your ass and his arm is tightly wrapped around your waist. He lets you go and you enter the market area together.

You try to divert your attention on whatever item they’re selling in the stands but it’s mostly weapons and things for bounty hunters that you couldn’t care less about. You can feel your arousal starting to drip down your legs, making your inner thighs slippery. Your swollen clit is pulsing and begging for attention, but Mando has been clear - you’ll get nothing until I'm done here, and you know nothing could make him change your mind, unless you play your cards right.

He grabs a seat in a beat-up wooden booth, his legs spread wide due to the massive erection trapped in his pants. There is an undeniable air of confidence and arrogance to him when he sits like this, looking so imposing and authoritative. You wish you could just drop to your knees and please him in any way he wants.

"Be my good pretty whore and sit here," Mando invites you to sit on his thigh and you immediately comply. You're so damn wet, you can't keep your legs closed.

"Hmm? Sitting here like this with your legs spread open? Do you want everyone to see your pretty cunt? Better let them know to whom this belongs, don't you think?" he coos in your ear with his husky voice. He knows you're both perfectly concealed and no one could see what's going on under that table. He's doing that just to prove a point—that you belong to him.

You nod mindlessly as his hand cups your cunt and stays there, still, without moving.

"Mando. Mando I need–" you whisper in his neck in a trembling voice.

"Oh. I know," he says, pleased when he sees how flustered you're getting. "Not yet," he growls as one of his gloved fingers trails your slit. He stops right before your clit, making you whimper and grip his arm tight in response. You dig your nails in his flightsuit as he feels how unbelievably wet you are.

"Hey. Behave now," he whispers as a Rodian approaches the booth and takes a seat, greeting him with a nod of his head. He immediately hands Mando a puck.

You have no idea what they’re talking about – you can't focus on anything else apart from the way Mando’s gloved hand holds the puck. You look at his fingers with pure lust, thinking of them touching your clit, pumping inside your cunt, the coarse leather caressing your skin.

You let your hand trail on his inner thigh and he stays surprisingly calm, not flinching one bit as your fingertips slowly slide higher, until they finally meet his cock. He is so unbelievably hard, you feel him throbbing underneath your fingers as you trail them all over his length. The Mandalorian won't betray any emotion, which turns you on even more. He's perfectly calm and collected on the outside, but you bet he'd love to throw you on that table and bury himself in you.

As soon as the Rodian hands Mando a handful of credits as an advance, he leaves.

"Please. Please, I need you," you whisper in his neck.

"I'm not done here. Be patient."

The throbbing need between your legs causes you to ache so badly that you don’t notice another man has approached and taken a seat until he begins speaking with the Mandalorian.

They're speaking in a foreign language, and Mando’s interlocutor does not seem happy. Judging by their tones of voice and gestures, they appear to be negotiating the fee for Mando collecting a certain bounty that the man needs capturing and he is displeased that Mando commands a high price. You’ve learnt over the time you’ve spent with the Mandalorian that there's not much room for negotiation with him. He has leverage since he's regarded as being the best bounty hunter in the outer rim. The way he speaks is so confident, it makes you even wetter how he does not lose composure while the other man is basically yelling at him.

He starts running his thumb on the string of pearls digging in your slit, feeling how wet you are for him as he keeps talking to his client while you're sitting in his lap, doing nothing but looking pretty. You're his slut and he wants everyone to know it, but you have to act cool even as he teases you under the table. You have to control the way you breathe, you can't let even the smallest whimper out. Why is this so hot? Why is he so hot?

In the end, the man hands him a hefty amount of credits and rises from the table with a huff, muttering and cursing as he goes.

"Please, take me back to the ship and fuck me. I won't ask for anything else, please," you whisper sensually in the crook of his neck.

"I'm not done here," he tries to appear impassive, but as soon as you resume your touching between his legs, he jerks slightly. You smirk, satisfied.

"Mando…" you trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, feeling how hard his erection is while purring in his neck. His pants are thick, but as you stop right at the tip, drawing circles on it with your fingertips, you can feel the fabric getting slightly damp.

“You’re so hard…” you sigh sensually as you keep rubbing his cock. You hear a choked grunt from him, now that he can’t focus on his job anymore, now that he’s at the mercy of your teasing. You’re so tempting, acting so shameless in public, the thrill of someone noticing the two of you drives him insane and you know it. You’re finally getting your revenge. You can bet he's close to losing control. Mando is twitching in his pants, his breathing getting heavier and heavier...

"Fuck it." He grabs you by the arm and you rush out of the market and back to the ship.

The Mandalorian doesn't even wait for the ramp to close behind him to bend you over the first crate he finds, kicking your legs open with his feet and freeing his throbbing erection. His gloved hands run up your skirt and position themselves around your hips, keeping you steady for him as he slams into you all at once. He meets no resistance from your drenched cunt whatsoever, leaving you breathless as you exhale in a loud moan. You're crushed between the crate and his beskar body, pleasurably forced to take his thick cock. You're only able to let out ragged groans and clamp tightly around him as he finally gives it to you just like you wanted.

"You. Fucking whore. Couldn't wait for me to finish my business. Wanted this dick so much, hm? Are you happy now?!" his thrusts are furious and relentless, his hips crushing your body against the crate with a devastating force. The angle at which he's hitting you is deep, so deep that you can't even prop yourself up on your shaky elbows. You're just getting brutally fucked without dignity.

"You get so disobedient when you want this cock. Maybe I should just tie you up and gag you?"

You can't even mumble words, too absorbed by the feeling of his cock thrusting inside of you, so aroused at the idea of him using your body for his pleasure.

"You're so wet. Damn. It must have been such a torture, right? To be so wet and turned on? Hearing you beg like that made me so fucking hard. Feel it. Feel what you do to me," he rasps as he rails you deep and hard.

The way the pearls are rubbing against your clit and the perfect rhythm of his thrusts are driving you close to the edge already.

"Mando, Mando, I'm–" you can barely mumble as you helplessly drag your hands against the crate.

"Yeah. Come. Seems like it's the only thing that will make you obedient. You wanted it so much, you can have as many as you want today."

'Thank you, thank you, tha–" your blissful chant is abruptly cut as the orgasm takes control over your body. Your cunt clenches hard around his thick cock and your legs jerk uncontrollably, barely touching the ground as he keeps you still and never stops drilling into you as you ride your high. The pleasure is so intense, it leaves you breathless as your cunt keeps involuntarily spasming around him in aftershock. You're panting against the metal crate beneath you, overwhelmed and reduced to a trembling, feeble mess, the coldness of it is a relief against the hot, flustered skin of your body that won't stop begging for him.

"Is this what you wanted, hm? For me to stop everything I was doing to come here and take care of you? Needy girl. You desperately wanted attention, hm?"

You can only mumble in assent, feeling the way he takes out his rage on you.

"Bet you would've let me fuck you in a dirty fucking alley if I wanted to."

"Y-yes–" you reply in a breathy groan, drenching yourself at the mere thought.

"What a slut. What if someone heard you screaming like that? What if someone heard how wet this pussy is when I fuck it? Fuck, you're dripping!"

For a man who barely speaks in normal circumstances, he sure does like to run his mouth when he's buried deep inside of you.

"Yeah. I bet you'd like it if someone saw me fucking you like the slut that you are," he pants and you start whimpering and clamping around him at the idea.

"I knew it. You're such a whore. But you are mine, and I won't let anyone hear these pretty moans and see this perfect cunt. They belong to me. To me," he growls.

"Yes – yes. I fuck–ing b-belong to you," you repeat mindlessly.

"Does it get this much to get you this wet? Just a string of pretty pearls? Looking so fucking good. So fucking good. Are you enjoying it?"

"Yes, Mando!"

"Shit, you're so tight. You're making me come," he says in a broken voice. His thrusts get erratic, as does his breathing "This cunt is so perfect, so fucking perfect," he emphasises the very last word before bursting, spilling hot and wet inside of you in a ragged groan, whining at how good it feels. His muscles tense and he gets rigid behind you, his head rolling back in pleasure.

"Oh, fuck! You're so hot. Spill all of your cum inside of me. Like this, yes!" you cry and start touching your clit, so turned on at the sight and feeling of his orgasm.

The sounds he makes as he comes are the hottest ones you have ever heard. The infamous Mandalorian – stoic, imposing and menacing – is getting lost in the overwhelming pleasure you’re offering him. Your drenched, tight pussy is making that dangerous warrior crumble. You’re so aroused, you need more.

"Please, please don't stop fucking me!" you dare asking him.

"I won't," he grunts as he keeps burying his dick deep, so deep inside of you.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Oh, fuck, I need you to fuck me harder, please!" you plead as you feel his cum starting to drip down your hole. "Maker, please!" you say as you start frantically slapping and rubbing your clit as you hear the obscene, sloppy sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of you, of his hips slamming against your ass.

"I won't stop. Fuck, I want more. I can't stop. You drive me fucking insane!" he growls, resembling a wild beast, completely overwhelmed by lust. You feel his cock still pulsing inside of you as you get even wetter.

"Look at this perfect cunt. You're so full of my cum, damn, you can't ever get enough of it, can you? Fucking cum slut. Look what you make me do. Just came inside of you but I can't stop fucking this perfect cunt. You want to drain me. Are you proud of yourself, hm? Making me so fucking hard in public and teasing me like the whore that you are."

"Fuck, yes, I'm your whore. Your slave. I'm so close, please–" you mutter deliriously while your fingers and the pearls are rubbing against your clit in a wet, nasty mess of your fluids and his cum. You come hard around him once again, strangling his spent, sensitive cock in your tight grasp and hear him grunting, his grip on your hips tightens and his whole body jerks, but he really can’t have enough.

"Yeah. Yeah. Come on my fucking cock, whore. Let me feel it." he encourages you, gritting those words between his teeth, fighting his own oversensitivity, so addicted to the way you feel around him.

He doesn't stop fucking you, not even after your orgasm. He keeps railing you relentlessly. You bring your hand to your mouth and suck your fingers, tasting the bitterness of his cum blended with the slightly salty taste of your fluids on your tongue. Its taste is addicting, the scent heady and intoxicating in the best way possible.

"You taste so good, Mando. We taste so good together," you drawl, overwhelmed by pleasure.

"Yeah, I bet we do," he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls it to lift your head up, giving it to you even harder, making your eyes roll back in your head. You are screaming, completely entranced by the way his cock is still pumping hard inside of you.

"So damn loud. You like being fucked like this, hm?"

He hits even harder from this angle, keeping you nice and still for him to use as he pleases. You're so busy screaming that you can't even reply to him.

"Yeah. Scream as loud as you want. Let me hear how much you want it. I like it."

You can feel his cum dripping down your legs with every thrust, hearing the sloppy, squelching sounds your bodies make. Mando can't even restrain himself anymore, he’s moaning and sighing at how much he's enjoying it. Your cunt is spasming around him, turned on at the way he sounds.

"You like it, hm? To reduce me like this?" he says in between thrusts.

The truth is that yes, you do. You love making the Mandalorian falter with your teasing, making him so desperate and boiling with lust, he has to leave business to fuck you hard, so hard that any coherent thought leaves your mind. You love it when you can feel the man under all that beskar, when he makes you feel like the most important and beautiful thing in the galaxy.

"Yeah, you do," he answers himself as he slows his rhythm, slipping out of you completely only to slowly bury himself inside of you to the hilt, enjoying the view and feeling of his cock entering into your cunt dripping with his cum.

You bite your lip to muffle your screams just to hear him moaning and sighing as he feels the welcoming warmth of your cunt.

“Mando. Mando, please,” you beg as you feel your legs impatiently shaking as his shaft rubs that perfect spot inside of you with each thrust.

“What?”

“Harder. Please?” you beg, subjugated by that perfect teasing.

He slams into you so deeply that you feel it pulsing against your cervix.

“What? Like this? Hm?” he says as he starts to jackhammer you.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chant as you resume touching your clit.

“Greedy whore. Ready for another one? I'm not stopping.”

“Mmmm,” you can only reply as you feel another wave of overwhelming pleasure approaching.

You hear him panting as he gives you a few more violent, deep thrusts, driving you over the edge one more time.

“Yeah. Take it – fucking t-take–” he grunts when he feels your walls clenching around his cock, your orgasm pushing him over the edge, too.

A loud, violent snarl rips through his lips as he comes, filling you with his white, thick load once again. The grip of his hands around your hips turns to steel, your eyes roll up so high all you can see is pitch black as he keeps pumping his cock into you as you both ride your high. The feeling completely obliterates you, turning your body and mind into a helpless, exhausted mess.

A huge, satisfied grin forms on your face as you feel him slowly slip out of you and his cum starts dripping down your cunt and legs.

“Good work," he pants "now be a good girl and wait for me while I go back there. Don’t move one muscle and maybe we will pick up where we left off,” he says as he tucks his spent cock in his cum stained pants, not giving a shit about it, looking at the mess he made of you, disrupted and leaking with his seed. Wrecked, used, marked. His.

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number1mingyustan · 10 months

Text

- Cuffing Season-

His Needs

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: established relationship, size kink, roleplay (ish?? not really), dom!gyu, mentions of porn, penetrative sex, explicit smut, mutliple orgasms, forced orgasms, multiple positions, spanking, squirting, grinding, she dresses up for him, this is flithy

Summary: He just has to get his way

Word Count: 2.3k

_______________________________________________

“There’s no way in hell I’m putting that on,” you roll your eyes.

“Baby please,” He looks at you with soft eyes.

“Mingyu this is ridiculous.” You scoff.

“I proved I would do anything for you the last time we fucked, I feel like it’s only fair you return the message.” He raises an eyebrow.

“You mean when you cried and called me ‘Mommy?’” You smirk.

“I did not call you that! And you said you wouldn’t bring that up again,” he groans.

“Oh baby…” You coo. “I’m never letting you forget that.”

“Can you just… put it on for me, please? I know you’ll look sexy,” he pleads.

“You’re so perverted Mingyu… I don’t know why you bought this in the first place thinking I’ll wear it.”

“Because I know you, and you’ll put it on for me because you love me and I’m horny. Baby please” He whines.

“This has got to be misogynistic in some way. I’m sure the feminists wouldn’t approve of this.”

“Baby… I just saw something like it online and I thought you would look good in it. Don’t scold me for wanting to be a little adventurous.”

“Have you been watching porn or something? I just don’t understand what prompted this” You raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs. “It’s been on my mind for a while.”

“So you’ve been watching porn.”

“Okay yes, maybe I’ve been watching porn,” He glares at you.

You look down at the outfit he’s displayed for you on the bed. There’s really no point in putting on, you know it’ll only be a matter of time before he’s ripping off what little fabric there is to begin with.

It’s a sexy maid costume he ordered online. He even paid extra for the quick shipping to get it here quicker.

“So what? We don’t have sex for like… 5 days and you start getting off on other women,” you fake disapproval.

He groans. “You know I only watch faceless porn… and I think about you the whole time. Don’t do that.”

“I’m only messing with you Gyu,” you grin and run your finger along the fabric.

“C’mon baby… I’m already half hard. I just wanna see you in it.”

You glance at him, taking note of the semi he’s sprouting in his sweatpants. “Mingyu you really are like a teenage boy,” you chuckle and pick up the costume and make your way toward the bathroom. You’ve teased him long enough.

His eyes light up with excitement and anticipation.

You close the bathroom door behind you and change out of your clothes and into the costume. “Gyu… if I come home and see some kind of sexy schoolgirl outfit, I’m gonna take half the company’s earnings and leave you.”

“I’m not that bad!” He calls from the bedroom. “You know… I think like the absolute most I would wanna see you in is like a… bunny girl senpai outfit. Like that’s all—holy shit–“

He cuts himself off when you walk out of the bathroom.

“I don’t understand why you were being such a hater baby. It’s doing wonders for your tits right now.”

You smirk at him. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Come here.”

He’s quick to pull you onto his lap. He can’t stop himself from staring, you’re just too sexy. Much like his eyes, his hands are quick to wander your body.

You’re so tiny on his lap. Sitting with your legs parted between his.

After indulging himself in a few inappropriate touches, his hands move their way up your thighs and under your skirt. His breath stops in his throat when he realizes you took off your panties.

“No panties? Baby you’re really trying to kill me aren’t you?” He breathes out.

“Just figured I’d make it easy for you,” You smirk, lifting up your skirt more for him to see.

He tilts his head back with a groan. You’re so hot, he really might lose it. His hand slips between where your bodies meet and he palms himself slowly through his sweats with a soft moan.

It’s so lewd.

He’s literally touching himself with you seated on his lap and dressed in next to nothing. There’s already a small stain on his sweats leaking through.

“You really are just like a teenager Gyu. Nearly cumming before we’ve ever gotten started,” You tease.

“Don’t be a bitch Y/n,” He bites back. “I’ll fuck you until you wanna clean for me like a real maid.”

Ugh. As much as you loved dominating Mingyu, you’ll always love his dominant side more. You can’t help it, he’s so big and strong and he can’t stand not being in control. You’ll never be caught complaining about it.

His large hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you him for a rough kiss with no hesitation. It’s sloppy and needy, nothing out to the ordinary with him.

He pulls away, panting softly and licking his lips before reattaching his lips to your neck. He sucks on your skin, leaving dark hickies along your neck and the top of your breasts.

You start growing needy, grinding your bare bottom against the thing fabric of his sweatpants. He’s fully hard now, cock poking perfectly against your clit as you grind yourself down on him.

“Shit baby… you’re worse than me,” he chuckles lightly as he looks down at the large wet patch you’ve left on his sweatpants.

“Shut up.”

A harsh smack lands on your bare ass, causing you to hiss and arch your back, pushing your hips down onto him harder.

He’s so strong.

“You know better than to speak to me like that,” He clenched his jaw.

“ ‘M sorry..” You mumble.

“No you’re not.” He lifts you off his lap and flips you over with ease. He presses your back down, leaving your ass in the air for him. “But it’s okay… I’m gonna make you sorry.”

He pulls his cock out of his sweatpants and rubs it along your folds teasingly.

It’s torture.

You somehow ended up needier than him in a matter of minutes. You’re lying there dripping and unable to see what he’s doing to you. Your walls are fluttering in anticipation.

He can see it all. The way you’re desperately clenching around nothing while you wait for him to fill you up.

He wants to fuck you, but you caught another attitude with him.

You and your damn mouth.

You’ve always had a bit of an attitude problem. Mingyu thinks it’s kind sexy until you catch one with him in the bedroom. It’s one thing to see you catch some sass when you’re talking to someone else. But with him? He’d rather put your mouth to better use.

He pushes the tip of his cock in, giving you a false sense of satisfaction before withdrawing completely with a smirk plastered across his face.

He can’t see how annoyed you are, but he can hear the frustrated groan you let out. “Gyu…”

“Yes my love?” He grins.

“Don’t do this to me. I said I was sorry.”

“But you didn’t mean it.”

“I did!”

He does it again, putting in just the tip before pulling out of you completely. You whine.

He does it a third time, but you’re quicker. Before he can pull out, you slam your ass back, thrusting his length all the way into you.

“Fuck’s sake,” He groans. “You’re horrible Y/n.”

You’re too caught up in how good the stretch of his cock feels to even respond. He takes over, slamming his hips against your ass and thrusting into you harshly.

He holds your hips steady with his big hands, ramming his cock deep inside of you quickly. Your ass recoils with every thrust and he’s left mesmerized.

It’s not long before you feel yourself getting close. He pounds into you so good. His hand snakes between your thighs and his finger circles your clit. He needed to feel you cum around him.

He loves it so much. The way you tighten around him and how you always manage to get wetter.

His finger moves quicker, his thirsts never flattering in pace.

“Oh fuck Mingyu I’m so close,” You warn him.

He doesn’t stop when you cum. He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly. You’re moaning and crying out his name but he doesn’t stop.

He gives you no time to recover from your state of bliss before he’s leaning over and pushing your head down deeper into the bed. Your back arches more and he can now pound you deeper.

Your hands grip the bedsheets tightly as he rams his cock deep inside of you.

“You feel so good” He moans.

It only takes a few moments before he’s driving you into another orgasm. This one is more intense than the first and your whole body goes numb for a second.

You’re sensitive and overstimulated. You figure this is karma for the way you put it on him last time.

“Gyu… I can’t take it” You whine into the bedsheets. Your voice is muffled, but he knows exactly what you said.

You let yourself believe he’s listening to you when he pulls out of you. For a moment, you’re relieved.

But then he flips you onto your back and fills you up again. “You can baby. Gosh you look so sexy right now… all dressed up for me and crying on my cock.”

You whine out in response.

He holds your legs wide open for him as he fucks himself into you. You’re already overstimulated and tears are starting you prickle the corners of your eyes.

It’s so intense but it feels so good. He fucks you roughly, treating you like a toy intended for his own pleasure.

“Ah-hah Gyu” You moan. “I really can’t…”

“You can baby” He grins as he continues thrusting his cock into you. “Give me one more darling.”

“Mmph- I can’t Gyu. I really can’t” You pant.

“There’s no such thing,” he smirks.

He takes advantage of the fact that you’re so sensitive. He begins thrusting into you at an inhuman pace, pinning your down so your legs stay wide open for him.

It’s so fucking good. His cock rams deep inside of you and his finger circles your clit once more. His pace makes you ache, the tip of his cock brushing deep inside of you, repeatedly hitting the one spot that makes you go mad.

It’s all too much, it happening too fast.

You don’t have time to fully process before he’s forcing another orgasm out of you. It’s so unfair but it’s so fucking good,

You cum so hard you don’t even realize you’re squirting until he pulls his cock out and watches the way you soak the sheets.

You cry out, eyes squeezed shut and the pleasure suffocates you. You feel dizzy and it takes longer for you to fully come down.

His cock is already inside of you again as your body spasms at the feeling of being full again. He pins you down to keep you from squirming.

“You’re making such a mess baby… some maid you are” He teases.

You’re breathing heavily and still trying to recover from the intensity. "Gyu.. I really can't anymore."

"Baby I didn't even get to cum yet," he pouts. "That wouldn't be fair now would it... you had what, three?" He sucks his teeth and continues thrusting into you slowly. "How selfish."

He's really showing no mercy.

Your pussy is already spent. You're still dripping, making it easier for him to slip in and out of you with low effort. His cock throbs and swells inside of you. He's getting close, thankfully.

"You'll let me cum won't you?" He asks. "You wanna let me really ruin this pussy don't you baby? Dressed up for me so pretty, making a mess everywhere. Don't pretend like you don't love it."

You whine.

"You were so confident earlier... that mouth of yours. Not much to say now huh?" he smirks, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

Mingyu himself is surprised he's held out this long. When you were on his lap he was nearly about to cum in his pants untouched. Seeing you like this, dressed up for him with your legs wide open after three orgasms, the sight alone could make him cum. You are just that hot... you have that effect over him.

But you pull another reaction out of him too. One that makes him never want to stop. He really can't help it. You make him want to keep going, he craves more constantly. He can never get enough of you no matter how much to satisfy him.

Your throat is starting to get sore from how much noise you've been making. You rasp out his name and it finally sends him over the edge. He tries to pull out, but you squeeze down on his cock purely out of reaction.

"Fuck," he groans.

Luckily he's stronger than you, so he manages to spill the rest of his load on your inner thighs.

It's a mess.

There's cum dripping out of you and down your thighs, the sheets are still soaked alongside his torso and the lower half of your outfit. Mingyu looks down with satisfaction written on his face.

"I put you in a maid outfit and you end up making an even bigger mess," he grins.

You're still exhausted, hardly able to respond to him. He lifts you up, helping you undress and running a bath to properly clean you up.

He takes the bedsheets and puts them into the washing machine, replacing them with fresh ones before joining you in the bathroom to clean up his mess. _______________________________________________

#seventeen smut #seventeen #mingyu smut #seventeen drabbles #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #svt mingyu #mingyu drabbles #mingyu svt #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #kpop #cuffing season

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missmugiwara · 26 days

Text

That Was Nothing

Summary: gn!reader x Gojo // Satoru wants a kiss. Won't you give him one? Oh, pretty please? He's been soooo good.

Warning: 18+, suggestive, smutty, some dubious consent (in the form of kissing), flirting, sexual tension, friends to lovers, sweetheart as a pet name

Note: Once again, the love of my life is insufferable. AND I ONLY WANT HIM MORE.

✦ Word count is 2.5k ✦

"Come on. Just one."

It would be a lie.

A complete and utter lie to say you weren't dumbstruck.

Swiftly, you whipped your head around so fast to face Satoru Gojo it was almost dizzying. The perfect set of lips upon your face parted, breath hitched in your chest, and then you remembered - breathe. Remember to breathe. A heat erupted against your cheeks, and you could only stare with dilated eyes at the sorcerer before you.

Gojo tilted his head to the side innocently and let out a small snicker. He continued on.

"Just one kiss!"

The pleasant smile on Gojo's face was soooo adorable which only made this all the more embarrassing.

He just wanted a kiss.

His words replayed in your head so tantalizingly. Immediately, your eyes bolted to his own set of plump lips - immaculately pink and heaven-sent themselves. Somehow, those lips always seemed to be shining. And they always looked so soft.

So good.

So yummy.

It didn't ever matter what Gojo was doing. He literally looked perfect all the time without even trying. It always stunned you. But come on, you were much stronger than this - or at least you hoped, especially when realization hit that you had been staring for too long now. So in a fluster, your eyes darted from his plump lips to his blindfolded eyes.

"Satoru… come on! Really! You can't do this to me right now!"

If one thing was for certain, it was that Satoru Gojo loved to tease - and loved to tease you more than anyone. It went without saying the man was an expert at it. You were seated at your desk, scrawling away at some paperwork when Gojo nonchalantly waltzed right into the classroom. In a rather proud manner, he strode right over and took a seat on top of the desk. He flashed a cheeky smile (and perhaps a hungry gaze as well, but the blindfold made that difficult to determine). The way Gojo sat with such hubris, towering above you, was as if to make one thing apparent.

You were in for it.

And Gojo never let you go without a good fight. Plus, he was too clever and too fast. Always one step ahead.

For a moment, he stilled to study your frustrated state. He hummed in thought, tapping an index finger to his pink lips before a smirk upturned the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, I see!" he cooed, crossing one leg over the other, "You were looking right at my lips weren't you, sweetheart? I just meant a kiss on the cheek! You're so... bad."

Your cheeks went hot.

Why did Gojo have to talk like that? With the sexy lilt? The slight growl? His voice alone could make you a fumbling mess especially with the way he drawled out bad in such a tone. Gojo was practically the definition of alluring. He was that and so much more. He made flirting look way too effortless, and it amazed you how easily he could seduce you. Did Gojo know how easy it was? He surely must have. In this moment, you had never wanted to slink down your chair so badly in a fit of swooning (and maybe out of pure humiliation as well). How could you let Gojo catch you staring at those pretty lips of his?

It was no fair!

"I wonder," he tilted his head to the side, "how many times have you done that before?"

He was just so damn full of himself.

You gasped. Playfully, you slapped Gojo's arm with a wide smile etched across your face. So much for trying to look mad. Honestly, it was hard to. If you slipped up even for a second it would only fuel his ego further, but unfortunately that ship had already sailed long ago. It didn't help either when he snickered as soon as he registered your smile. He only grinned further, proudly sitting upright again.

"You are such a flirt, Satoru! Stop teasing me!"

"I can't! You're just too cute!" he purred before pausing in thought again, "Now - I found your car keys so don't I deserve a little reward?"

He revealed your car keys, proudly swirling the keyring around his index finger to tease you more.

"A reward? For stealing my keys?" You grinned haphazardly, stepping up from your seat.

In a futile attempt, you reached out to snatch them back. Quickly, Gojo enclosed his hand around the keys and uncrossed his legs to get the momentum he needed in order to lean back. In fact, it was so far back that you both misjudged the spacing between your bodies. Gojo chuckled when you whined at him to stop moving. You slapped your hand on the desk next to his thigh, sliding it past as you tried so desperately to gain balance. It was to no avail because you only leaned further when he pulled farther away.

You both froze.

A heat rose to your cheeks, and a dangerous smirk grew on Gojo's lips. You were perched right between his spread thighs, and he was nearly on his back if not for one hand holding him upright at an angle. If either of you had moved a tiny bit further, you most definitely would have slipped and landed headfirst onto him. The position was already suggestive enough, and the way your groins pressed together reminded you of the close proximity to this beauty of a man.

Gojo's voice was low and breathy, his smug tone so quiet in the air.

"Is this part of my reward?"

Smoothly, ever so smoothly, Gojo did the smallest roll of his hips against yours. Your breath caught in your chest at the heated pressure applied against your lower half. A fire spread throughout your body. His lips were so close you could almost taste his smirk. Immediately, when his hot breath fanned across your mouth again, you practically flung yourself against the nearest wall. Your heart was thundering in your chest, eyes bugged wide, and Gojo laughed wildly because your expression was beyond what he expected at this point.

"It's - it's not!"

Gojo then cackled, giving the keyring another taunting swirl around his finger as he sat up straight again.

How did this all happen?

Well, as usual you rushed into a staff meeting late and flung your belongings down without thought. So of course, for the umpteenth time, you threw a fit when you realized you could not find the damn car keys after the meeting ended. All because you weren't paying attention!

It never helped that Gojo was such an ass. Of course, he was always the one to find where they landed. And of course, he picked them up and clung to them like his life depended on it.

Usually.

Today he tried something a little different.

It was a whole ordeal. As soon as you walked into the room, Gojo flew up from his seat and glided over - exclaiming the meeting could not start until he got a hug from his most intelligent, wonderful, loving friend in the whole world. This overly affectionate display caught you and everyone by surprise. What an unneccessary interruption. A bit weird too, as quirky as he was. You carefully eyed Gojo because it all seemed a tad suspicious. More importantly, what did he want from you (because clearly there was some sort of ulterior motive from the compliments)? So based on everybody staring and you being blatantly late, you decided to just give him his hug and get the meeting on track. Just get it over with. No more embarrassment in front of colleagues, please. Without a care in the world, your arms wrapped around Gojo for his hug.

And then he snuck his hand right into your coat pocket to snatch your keys.

When he revealed them only a moment ago, that's when you knew this was another one of his little games. This time, the game being how to get a kiss from his most intelligent, wonderful, and loving friend in the whole world. God, he was lucky you were so… loving because loving people forgive their asshole friends, right?

"Then can I still get a kiss?"

Of course he said that next. In response to Gojo's question you pouted, giving a small grumble as the answer - no. But that wouldn't stop him from trying. It would never.

"Please? Just a little kiss. Riiiight here." he tapped his cheek, a smug smirk at his lips.

You irked an eyebrow at him.

"After that little stunt?"

"Oh, please, please!" he cried out so facetiously, dropping to his knees and hobbling over to you. Your eyes widened in shock, not expecting such dramatic behavior from the sorceror.

His hands grabbed your hips. He gave them a small shake whilst adorning an overly obvious smile. He could have nearly made you fall, but his playful gestures made you realize this was all just an over-the-top act. An attempt to butter you up by getting you to laugh. So you crossed your arms and boredly looked down at Gojo, fighting the urge to laugh. Gojo now had his arms flung around your waist, his chin pressed into your abdomen as he cutely gazed up at you in this hug.

A second more to think, and a teeny tiny smirk graced your features. Two could play at this game.

"Hm… the mighty Satoru Gojo on his knees?" you giggled, "Mmmm, I think I like that."

"Oh, you like it when I beg, huh?"

If only you had more time to think of a witty response. Shoot, he was damn good.

"…Maybe."

"Keep this up and that's not the only thing I can do that you'd like, sweetheart. Maybe later we'll switch places if you ask nicely."

Your jaw immediately dropped. As usual, Gojo got in the last word, and you had no idea how he kept winning.

"Satoru!"

"You know, I kind of like it when you're a brat."

"Oh, gah - please! At least you're having fun."

"You are too, sweetheart."

His smile never faltered, not even for a second, and his arms were still wrapped around your waist. An obvious pout was at your lips because he was right again. Gojo was flirty and fun, and you were enjoying this. A moment passed as you two just wordlessly stayed in place: a competition seeing who would break first.

Of course, you were the one to break first because you threw your head back and laughed. After all, Gojo was always pulling shit like this, and you always tried to pay him back in kind. He asked for kisses countless times. One thing you could not grasp was why did it catch you off guard every time? Why did it always feel like the first time he ever asked?

You also had to admit you loved indulging Gojo and giving in to his oddly charming ways. After all, he was an old friend. One of the closest friends you ever had especially when you both started off as sorcerers long ago. Oh, the stories you could tell about this man flirting with you. So what was a small kiss on the cheek between two old friends?

Unless.

You kept it up because you so badly desired to be more than friends. But what about him? And he kept asking for a kiss - so what did that mean from him? If only you could think straight. At least for the time being, you could indulge him and yourself. It was a harmless kiss on the cheek after all.

"Fine. But just this once!"

"That's what you said the last time, and the time before that, and the time before -"

"I could just leave! I'll walk home! Do you want it or not?"

"Ooooh yes, please! Very badly!"

"Then get your ass on my desk."

"Didn't know you were into that. Be gentle with me! Oh, should I bend over?"

"Just sit on it!"

As if your face couldn't burn any hotter than it already did. Gojo always made you break the record every time. It was surprising enough that you assumed it could never happen again.

He instantly jumped up (a bit too eagerly) and took a seat back on the desk. This was the easiest way because he was so damn tall. He hummed in response to your smirk, giving a cute little dance of his shoulders. Quite adorably, he leaned his cheek in for you to get a better reach - for him to finally claim his prize. A prize he won so many times. So you brushed your fingers very slowly and very sensuously along his jaw, gently cupping his face in your hand.

"Oh, you are making my heart race right now!"

Another gasp followed by a bashful grin, and you pulled away just as your lips were to touch his cheek.

"Stop it, you're embarrassing me!"

"Ugh, I love it when you whine! Does things to me!"

"Oh my god, Satoru! I am going home!" You released his face from your hands, about to storm off when the sorcerer grinned again.

Gojo firmly caught your wrist midwalk and effortlessly pulled you back toward him. You nearly tripped, forgetting how strong he was. When you were situated and facing him once again, you did a soft tug of your arm as a signal for the provocative man to let go. Gojo only pouted and pulled you again, but harder this time. And this time, you did end up tumbling into him as he caught you - staring at him angrily before you both broke out into laughter.

"Alright, alright! I'll be good!"

Gojo being good? Yeah, right. Could you really trust him to keep his word? You squinted your eyes at that, only to be met with Gojo beaming confidently which was your weakness.

So you let out a quick sigh before stroking the side of his face once more. You puckered your lips, slowly leaning in when -

Gojo turned his head quickly.

So so sooo very quickly.

In doing so, his lips touched yours in the most innocent of kisses. Just a small peck. It was gentle, it was sweet, it was so fast, and it stunned you nonetheless. A tiny smack noise from your lips meeting and parting echoed in your brain on replay. There was a delayed reaction on your part, save for your face heating up, because you stood there completely frozen as he adorned the biggest shit-eating grin.

All a part of Gojo's plan.

"Satoru!" you breathed, fighting an ever-so-obvious grin, "You… you naughty thing!"

Satoru Gojo was bold. It was always just a kiss on the cheek! He had never done that before. He cackled in response, twirling the keyring around his finger once more. Oh yes, and he still had not given those keys back.

"Naughty? That was nothing! Oh, we could get much naughtier next time. Prefer some tongue?"

Oh my god, was he serious?

The way you just stood in stupefied silence made him prattle on.

"No need to be shy now!"

Just when you thought he was done, he always went the extra mile. When he chuckled at your flustered expression and lack of response, he lowered his tone.

"Prefer something a little more than just kissing?"

355 notes · View notes

thankskenpenders · 6 months

Note

Help me out here: Why is there so much Ian Flynn hate going around lately? I thought everyone loved that he was contributing to the games. Now suddenly they aren't. I guess that's par for the course for this series but I don't get it. He isn't perfect but I like what he's done. Am I a weirdo?

Ian Flynn has always had a lot of fans, but any creator putting their work out there is going to have detractors as well. That's just the nature of being an artist. To some extent, it's no big deal. He's not a perfect writer. Nobody is! I consider myself a fan of his work, but I've criticized plenty of individual writing decisions from him on here.

But Ian doesn't just have critics. He has his own obsessive hatedom. And the specific nature of Ian's hatedom is... interesting.

A decade ago, Ian was only the guy writing for Archie Sonic, meaning any debates over his work were quarantined within that tiny niche of the larger Sonic fandom. Only people who kept up with the comics month to month had any real reason to have an opinion on the guy, which means we're talking about merely thousands of fans as opposed to millions.

Within that group, he had some haters. You had the people who were mad about story changes made during his run, particularly things like ancillary characters getting killed off (although over the years we've learned that most of those were editorial mandates from Mike Pellerito). You had the people mad that Ian didn't push their favorite ship, with feuding SonAmy and Sonally fans claiming that he was CLEARLY biased towards one or the other. You had the people who just really, really liked one of the previous writers way more - usually Penders, as hard as that may be to believe today. That sort of thing. Pretty normal comic fandom type stuff. Again, it comes with the territory.

Unfortunately, many of those haters only got worse over time, morphing into reactionaries who constantly try to incite Comicsgate type culture war bullshit.

There are people still mad at Ian for making Sally bi and pairing her with Nicole instead of Sonic in the later Archie comics. There have been elaborate MS Paint red string conspiracy boards explaining how people like Ian and Jon Gray have apparently been destroying the franchise from the inside for years by Making Sonic Woke. (Jon gets dragged into this because people are still mad about him drawing The Slap 20 years later. Yes, really!!) There was an unhinged change.org petition trying to get Ian fired, specifically from people who were mad that the Freedom Fighters aren't in the IDW comics. There was even a very sad little fan campaign from these people trying to get Sega to move the Sonic comic license away from IDW and over to Udon, because they thought Udon would bring Sally and Bunnie back and also make them sexy again. There's a lot of this.

(Unfortunately, Penders has also exacerbated this by gossiping about Ian on Twitter and giving these fans ammo, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.)

The thing is, for years, people who only played the games or watched the cartoons had no reason to pay attention to any of this. Now, though, Ian isn't just writing for some weird spinoff comics that only the super nerds read. Now he's writing comics that are canon to the games, and ALSO some of the games themselves, and ALSO consulting on other tie-in media like Sonic Prime, and ALSO writing the official Sonic encyclopedia, and ALSO serving as part of the new Sonic Lore Team at Sega. And on top of all this, he's got an increasingly popular podcast where he fields questions about his work on all of these things, which serves as one of the fandom's main windows into creative decisions being made behind the scenes.

As a fan of Ian's work, it's been really cool to see him rise in prominence. But the dark side of this is that his obsessive haters from the Archie days now have WAY more of a potential audience of their own. Now, every Sonic fan has to have an opinion on Ian. What this frequently means is that you'll have the Comicsgate types taking things Ian writes or says out of context, attempting to get more of the general fandom to yell at the guy.

Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of Sonic fans who take the bait:

You've got hardcore fans who disliked basically any recent piece of Sonic media and are looking for someone to blame.

You've got the people who are concerned about the sanctity of Sonic's canon, who shoot the messenger any time Ian mentions a new retcon from Sonic Team on the podcast - or any time he even mentions the THOUGHT of changing anything about the canon, as we saw recently with the Sol Dimension nonsense.

You've got people who romanticize some sort of mythical artistic vision that Sega of Japan supposedly has (or had) for the franchise. To many of these fans, American contributors like Ian just don't "get" the heart of the series and are trying to turn Sonic into something different. (This "heart of the series" tends to be some mix of Japanese instruction manual lore, the cinematics from Sonic CD, the OVA, and/or the games written by Shiro Maekawa, depending on what Sonic media the fan in question grew up with.)

You've got fans of specific characters or ships who pin the blame for how their faves are depicted entirely on Ian - most vocally fans of Shadow, even though the root problem is that Sonic Team hasn't known what to do with Shadow since 2006. At best this stops at regular old criticism, but at its worst this devolves into claims that Ian has an agenda against certain characters.

You've got fans annoyed by a perceived over-emphasis on comic-original characters in the IDW comics, ignoring the obvious facts that these characters exist because the game cast is so tightly controlled by Sega, and also, you know, that people just like the IDW characters and want more stories about them.

You've got a LOT of discourse over IDW's Sonic being a hero who tries to give his enemies second chances, as if half of Sonic's closest friends aren't already former villains and rivals. Honestly this is very transparently just reheated Steven Universe discourse lmao

You'll also see people who just think they could do Ian's job better. They can't believe that THIS GUY is the American fan working on all these Sonic projects, when clearly THEY understand the characters and lore and themes SO much better than this charlatan.

All it takes is for someone in one of these categories to be unhappy about some recent piece of Sonic media, and for them to come across an out of context quote or comic panel that rubs them the wrong way, and suddenly the leftist Zoomer Sonic fans will join the latest dogpile on Ian alongside the reactionary Comicsgate types who are mad at him for Making Sonic Woke.

In general, when fandoms get upset, they tend to want a scapegoat. A person or two to point a finger at and go "THAT's who ruined the thing I love!" This tends to be based less on reality and more on which contributors are the most visible online. You'll sometimes see teenage and adult fans of children's cartoons single out a storyboarder who's particularly vocal on Twitter, blame them for every story decision they don't like, and harass them off the platform out of a sense of retribution for their favorite ship or whatever. Failing that, fans might choose to blame every nitpick, down to individual lines of dialogue and frames of animation, on a showrunner, just because that's the name they associate with the show. And unfortunately, when it comes to Sonic, Ian is now arguably the most prolific and outspoken contributor on the English speaking internet, and therefore a common scapegoat.

Some of the things I've seen Ian blamed for are truly wild. A lot of people have claimed for YEARS that he's just lying about the existence of creative guidelines and restrictions from Sega - or, as fans call them, The Mandates - even though they're just an inherent aspect of working on a licensed property. Others claim that The Mandates are real, but somehow Ian's fault. A vocal minority of fans have convinced themselves that Ian is the sole reason the Freedom Fighters don't exist in the IDW comics, even though Ian says he's been pushing to bring them back since day one.

Sometimes you'll see people say he ruined shit he didn't even work on. A few weeks ago on Twitter I saw someone claim that Ian had written a rejected script for Sonic Forces in which Tails died. I could not find a source for this for the life of me. As far as I can tell, the rumor seems to have been born from an alleged leaked script for Forces with margin notes from Aaron Webber that criticized the way Tails was written, and also an old tweet where Aaron joked that Tails would die in an upcoming episode of Sonic Mania Adventures. These merged into "Aaron Webber criticized a draft of the Forces script in which Tails died." How'd Ian get dragged into this? Who fucking knows!

It's all just a big game of telephone. All it takes is some asshole to make something up about Ian on Twitter or YouTube or a DeviantArt journal or some forum, and at least a couple people will believe it, and then it gets repeated as fact. Again, this used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie Sonic fandom, but now there are WAY more people who are receptive to this shit.

It's just sad to me that Ian tries to be so open and honest about his work, to try to explain the rationale for certain things, to keep fans looped in on the direction the franchise is headed, and this just gives the Flynnspiracy types more quotes to take out of context and try to paint him as the devil. If it sounds like I'm being overly defensive and dismissing his critics, man... some of the things I've seen people say directly to him are just unbelievable. People will send paragraphs-long angry screeds in to his podcast that completely tear him apart, and he has to sit there and be like "Well, that's your opinion, and you're entitled to it." People literally pay for special guest interview episodes where they just rapid fire complaints about his writing at him directly to his face. I don't know how he does it. I would snap.

All of this over Sonic the fucking Hedgehog of all things.

I don't know how to wrap this up. Engaging with fandoms online is very tiring, which is why I tend not to do it. Things like this are too common. I guess, just... remember that making art collaboratively is a complicated thing. The people involved are generally trying their best given the circumstances, but they're only human. They make mistakes. But please treat them like humans. Criticism and dogpiling are not the same thing.

#anon #ask #tkp asks #tkp post

782 notes · View notes

trinidaddy888 · 6 months

Text

Fridge Mission

Lucifer needs your help. Beelzebub has been eating everything from the fridge and Lucifer trusts that you can stop him. You try and give Beel something else he can eat. >;)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Characters: Beelzebub, Reader, MC

Ship: Reader x Beelzebub

Genre: Smut

Tags: Smut, gender-neutral reader (but reader wears a bra lol), race-neutral reader, oral sex, vaginal fingering.

A/n: This idea started as a joke months ago every time I get the Obey Me notification. This is the first smut I've ever written and published, so please be nice. This took months only because I kept getting embarrassed by this and didn't think it was being written well. I decided that I no longer cared if it would be good or not and wanted to have fun writing this and test the deep waters of smut. Check it out on AO3.

Masterlist

“I need your help,” says Lucifer.

You and he are in his den, one afternoon. Earlier, he texted you and asked you to meet him to discuss something important. He did not clarify and you hoped he would now that he’s right in front of you.

“Help with what?” you ask, curious as to what he could possibly need help with. He is one of the greatest, most powerful demons in Devildom. What could he not handle himself?

“Well,” he starts, “Beelzebub has been eating all the food in the fridge. Every day at 12 pm or 6 pm he is in front of the fridge, eating everything he can get his hands on. It’s taxing on our food budget and some days we are left without dinner.”

You remember the days when Lucifer opted to order take-out meals for you and the brothers rather than welcome a home-cooked meal from whoever was on cooking duty for the day.

“Are you sure, I can convince him to stop?” you ask, “Once he gets to eating, it’s hard to stop him.”

“Beelzebub has grown attached to you and I feel that you can be his voice of reason. He has certainly failed at listening to my requests to stop. I believe that a more trusted friend, one that he has a pact with, can finally stop him. Please prevent Beelzebub from eating everything.”

“Well,” you say with a shrug, “I’ll try my best. I doubt I’ll do anything useful to stop him, but I’ll try my best.

------------------

You stand by the fridge, checking your watch. It’s 5:57 pm. Beelzebub would be in the kitchen soon and you’ll have to stop him. You have no plan. You figure that the best way to stop him would be to find the cause of the problem. But is there a reason behind him devouring the whole fridge at the times Lucifer mentioned? Beel is the Avatar of Gluttony so there could just be no discernible reason for his cravings.

“Hey,” say Beel, interrupting your thoughts.

“Hey,” you say back to him, “How’s it going?”

He towers over you. Most of the brothers do but his height even outmatches Lucifer’s.

“Uh… Fine,” he says, seeming confused by the conversation, “Do you mind moving out of the way?”

“Why?” you ask, feigning innocence, “Do you need something?”

“I’m hungry,” he says. He wasn’t being pushy, he just stated it as if it was a fact. “I just want a snack.”

“A snack or the whole fridge? Lucifer told me what you have been doing.”

“A whole fridge’s worth of food is a snack,” he says with a shrug.

“Don’t you think you should leave some food for me and your brothers?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, “Satan has to cook dinner and needs the ingredients.”

He moves closer, placing his hand against the fridge, arm stretching over you.

“I can make you move,” he says, something dark in his voice.

You realize that he's trying to seem threatening, but you know him well enough and trust that he will not hurt you. Still, there was something sexy about the way he said it.

“Then make me,” you challenge.

He stares you down, quietly and you stare right back up at him, crossing your arms.

He sighs, backing off. You can swear you see him blush but you’re not sure.

“Fine,” he says, defeatedly, “you win.”

You smile.

“Hey, I have snacks in my room,” you offer, “Human world snacks and I’ve been meaning to repaint my nails. Why don’t you join me?”

His face remains neutral but you see something light up in his eyes.

“Okay,” he gives in.

In your room, you sit him down at your desk and bring over a side chair to sit next to him. You already have the tools, nail polish and nail polish remover for the manicure set on the table. You grab his hand and start to remove his nail polish with a cotton ball soaked in nail polish remover.

With his hands in yours, you notice how big his hands are. The first time you realized how big they were was on your waist when you and he cuddled once. That was the night you shared your room during a Devil Dish Bake-off binge with some snacks.

That night made you see him less like one of the youngest brothers with a hefty, destructive appetite and more like a soft, tender demon. After you both shared so much over the months since the Belphie incident, you also became closer as friends. Friends. Which is why you can not think of what it would feel like for those large hands to explore you.

“So,” you begin, waving away the intrusion of curious thoughts, “As the Avatar of Gluttony I know you can’t resist eating a lot, but Lucifer told me that your urge to eat everything out of the fridge was fairly recent. Do you know why?”

“I get extra hungry when I’m trying to distract myself from something,” he says, avoiding your gaze.

“What are you trying to distract yourself from?” you ask, switching to filing his nails, “And are you still hungry?”

He’s silent. He gazes at you and then looks down at the hand that you were manicuring.

“I can’t say,” he finally says, “It’s a secret. And, yeah, I’m still hungry.”

“Yeah, and it’s a secret that affects the whole House of Lamentation,” you say pointing the nail file at him, “Now spill it.”

“It’s a secret about someone… I want.”

“Oh, that’s juicy!” you exclaim with delight, “Who? Someone I know? Come on, tell me.”

He looks up at you, eyes smoldering

“It’s you… That I want.”

“Me?” You are perplexed. You stop filing and are now gawking at him. “What about me could possibly drive you to eat an entire fridge’s worth of food.”

“It’s something you would not like the answer to, trust me,” he says looking down at his hand again. And you noticed that his cheeks and ears were red.

You think for a moment. Lucifer’s plea to stop Beel from eating everything swims in your mind. Maybe you don’t want to know but you have a mission.

“Whatever it is,” you say, “I can handle it.”

“Fine. It’s… Well, you’re human and you smell good, so it makes me… Well, this is hard to say out loud…”

“I make you hungry?! I know you all threatened to eat me at first when I got here, but damn! If cleaning out a fridge is what it takes to stop...”

“No,” he cut you off, now looking right at you, “You make me horny.”

Silence fell between the two of you. You were in shock. You?! But you’re human. Surely there are many hot demons out there that he wants to fuck, instead.

“Are you sure? You feel that way?” you ask slowly, “When did this start?”

He moves closer to you, staring with intensity.

“I think it started when we shared your room that one time,” he says, “We cuddled and the smell of you drove me crazy. I thought I wanted to eat you but...” He trailed off. The rouge shade of his cheeks deepen

“You thought so, but what?” you ask, urging him to continue.

“I got a boner,” he croaks.

“Oh…okay,” you say, voice high pitched, “I guess this is context for why you avoided me for a week after we cuddled. I thought I made you uncomfortable.”

And it is context for what you felt when you both spooned. You thought it was a candy bar in his pocket.

“No!” he exclaims, “I just didn’t know what I would have said to you if we were left alone. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with… my needs.”

He looks embarrassed. It’s kind of…cute.

“Nothing you say will ruin our friendship,” you reassure him.

“Really?”

“Yes, I promise. Besides, I can’t say I’ve never thought of you that way, either. I mean, look at you. You’re so ripped.”

“I do work out a lot.”

You laugh. “It shows.”

“I think it’s my turn to file your nails,” he says, grabbing your hand.

He starts filing your nails.

“I wonder about you guys here in the House of Lamentation. Besides Asmo, do you guys get laid? Because if so, I’m not aware of it.

“I can’t speak for everyone else, but for me, it’s been a while. Lucifer made a curfew for us ever since he caught Mammon gambling at casinos late at night.”

“That sucks,” you say, and you really did feel bad for him and his brothers.

“What about you?” he asks, voice lowering a couple of octaves.

“Honestly, not since I left the Human World. And everyone besides the angels and Solomon has been a threat to even consider getting with them. It’s sad because I thought demons would be good at things like that. Maybe I have those expectations because I’ve never had good head from a human before.”

“Want to change that?” he asks. He is staring at you, his gaze longing and lustful.

Your heart thumps. Did you hear that right? His expression is serious and deep with longing.

“W…What?” you sputter.

“I said, do you want me to change that?” he repeats, voice husky and moving even closer.

Shit. You have been dreaming about this since coming to Devildom and the offer comes so easily from one of the hottest demons in Devildom? You can’t possibly pass up the opportunity.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly.

He gazes at you, with deep passion and pulls your hand to his mouth and kisses it. He traces his tongue from your wrist, to your fingers, stopping to lick them. His tongue is gentle but firm. His mouth felt so good. You bite your lower lip and close your eyes, imagining if it would feel just as good if he did the same to your cunt.

He rolls his chair over to you and his mouth is covering yours, tongue brushing over your lips until your mouth falls open. He kisses you, mouth hungry to taste all of you. And you let him, running your fingers through his honey-orange hair. His lips are surprisingly soft for someone as strong as him.

“Can we take this to my bed?” you ask, pulling away.

Wordlessly, he does as he’s asked, promptly lifting you to his chest and carrying you to your bed. He puts you down, your back resting against your bed frame, and climbs over you.

He kisses you again, tongue exploring your mouth even further. His kiss is powerful but gentle. You’ve never been kissed like this by a human or anyone before this. You lean into him, your tongue, following his lead, allowing yourself to taste him. His tongue brushes over your bottom lip before he bites it. It stings a little but in exactly the way you liked. His kisses travel to your neck, tasting the salty-sweet flavour of your sweat, licking, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, enjoying the taste. You can feel your pussy revel at the feel of his touch, wanting and wishing for more.

He pulls away for a moment, to undo your button-down shirt which you shrug out of throw onto the floor. His large hands grace your back and unhook your bra band. Your bra slides off to your waist, revealing your bare chest, much to his delight. He takes in the sight, smiling devilishly. You wonder what he was thinking.

He takes one breast to his mouth and fondles the other with a free hand. He fondles them, gently.

“Rougher,” you demand. He grabs them, kneading them with his hand and squeezes your nipples between his index finger and thumb. You whimper at the sensation and push your chest harder into his hands. He squeezes harder, testing which pressure gathers a moan from you.

You moan and with the other breast, he traces his tongue over the edge of your areola before flicking over your nipple. He bites and tugs your nipple and then sucks. His mouth is warm and wet. You haven’t had your tits sucked since being in the Human World and experiencing it now after the long absence of touch was nearly enough to make you unravel. You feel your body shudder from pleasure and you realize that you’re panting.

Your clit aches to be touched, too. You move your hand to your pussy and start rubbing your clit with your fingers, trying to please the parts of your body that ached for attention.

He notices your attempt to please yourself, says, “Here, let me,” and he frees his hand from your breast.

He licks his fingers and slides his hand under your pants, finding your clit. There was no clumsy fumbling to find its exact position. He just knew. You wonder if it was that your previous partners were just that bad. Or did Beel’s thousands of years being alive give him an edge?

“Oh,” he smirks, “You’re wet, that fast?”

You cover your face, feeling embarrassed.

“Yes,” you say, “It’s been a while. And you’re doing… a good job.”

He grins up at you and moves his face down to your breast again to suck.

He uses his index and middle fingers to play with your clit. His hands are rough and your body invited the texture. It was a simple motion and it did the job, eliciting breathy gasps from you.

His lips move south, kissing your solar plexus, down to your navel. You ravel in his kisses, feeling like your body was born for his mouth.

He stops kissing your body to look up at you and says, “I want to taste more of you. Can I?”

You nod, wordlessly.

He smiles and moves to pull your pants down. You adjust to make it easier for him to do this and watch him throw your pants to the floor. He kisses your tummy and then stops to tug at the waistband of your panties with his teeth and pulls them off.

He kisses your thigh and moves one of his thumbs to your clit and rubs. You gasp and press your body into his touch. His kisses lead up to your upper inner thigh and he pauses to take in the sight of your cunt, captivated by what he sees.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, desire in his voice.

You blush and say, “Thank you.”

He leans in and puts his mouth on your throbbing clit and starts to flick his tongue on it. His tongue is firm and wet. He starts slow, circling the outside of the apex, teasing you. You breathe deeply.

With being wet, his index and middle fingers slide into you easily. You take them in for a few inches, noticing how large his fingers are.

He passes his tongue over your clit and curls his fingers inside you. You feel the pressure on the front of your vagina, on your g-spot.

He licks and pumps his fingers inside you slowly. You figure that he was testing the motion that you would like

“Faster,” you command.

He does as he asks and starts sucking, too. With that addition, you feel yourself unravel. You grip the sheets, moaning. Uncontrollably, you grind into his fingers and face, yearning for more.

You look down and realize that he’s looking right up at you, eyes lustful. It was as if he was enjoying looking at you respond to him. You’re so lost in his eyes that you don’t realize that you are approaching a climax.

You cum, feeling your body flooded with pleasure. You scream through the pleasure. You feel a dampness on your cunt and see your wetness on his face.

You see him start to remove his face from you.

You put your hand on his head, fingers entangled in honey-orange hair and pull him closer to you.

“No!” you exclaim, voice breathless, “Don’t stop!”

He does as he is told. He licks, sucks, licks, sucks and fingers you until you cum again. You scream, voice starting to feel hoarse. You lay back, panting. He comes up and sits next to you. He stares at you, eyes focused.

“Are you okay?” Beelzebub asks.

You catch your breath and finally are able to speak.

“Yes,” you say grinning, “I’m excellent. Thank you.”

He grins back at you.

He leans in and kisses you. You can taste yourself on his mouth.

“We should do this again,” he says when he pulls away.

“We should…” you start and then come to a realization. “Wait! I didn’t get you off! I think we can start on your turn.”

“Well,” he says with an amused grin, “We can take a shot at it, if you want.”

You grab him by the collar of his tshirt and pull him closer in for another kiss.

And then suddenly there is a knock at the door.

“Dinner is ready!” you hear Satan shout.

You look down. You realize that you are completely naked and your thighs are covered in your own slick and thank the heavens that Satan is one of the few brothers in the House of Lamentation that actually knocks.

Beelzebub frowns. “Damn.”

“Hold on, Beel,” you say, surprised at his dismay, “Are you actually disappointed that food is ready? Weren’t you very hungry half an hour ago? What about the fridge you wanted to eat all of?”

“Well,” he says smiling, “I found something else to eat.”

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