#with models that just fucking- stand there modeling the underwear

[doodlboy]

Every year

#every year mom asks for a Christmas list and every year she picks it apart and gives me shit abt every single item on ot #it* #i put boxers on there from a specific brand #she goes through the website of said brand which specializes in underwear and goes “eww this looks dirty why would you want anything here??” #and underwear brand #with models that just fucking- stand there modeling the underwear #or pose together cutely #is somehow dirty #or i put a grifters bone shirt on there bc ive been wanting it for a while #she goes through the rusty quill shop and starts fucking interrogating me on what it is and who makes this “shit” #and saying everything is weird and creepy and i should look at the rest of their store 2 “know what kind of creep you're getting stuff from” #like she's actively starting fucking fights and its pissing me off #first blue period now a t-shirt and some goddamn underwear #she lost her shit when she went on etsy 1 time and saw a sticker of the markiplier jesus meme #im so sick of this shit #what does she want me to put on there “extra long bible with glittery highlighters 4 my favowite passages =^-^=”????? #like fuck off #just get the shit on my list and leave me alone or I'll just buy it myself #im 20 #im allowed to consume whatever the fuck i want #rant #rant in tags #elliot rambles

[ghosts-cyphera]

pornstar! ghost who buys u cute little underwear sets for every scene u do together ?? he says it doesn’t mean anything but in reality he spent hours trying to pick out the nicest colours n fit for u <33

18+; mdni / suggestive fluff / pornstar!ghost x fem!reader; masterlist here ♡

ghost's foot drummed against the ground as he studied the boutique from the street. the window displays were decorated with flower arrangements and expensive-looking cotton clouds, among which golden hangers displayed the most intricate sets of lingerie he had ever seen.

fitting for you.

you, who he knew—no matter what kind of a scene you were shooting—liked to feel beautiful on set. beautiful just to be adored and worshipped: to be made love to, or beautiful to be turned messy: to be fucked and made to feel used. that touch of something pure was always there when you showed up for work, day after day with a sparkle in your eyes.

with a warm chuckle, ghost stepped inside. 

everything about the boutique reminded him of a candy store. the colors, the details, and even the scent of something sweet were all tugging the corners of his lips into a warm smile.

he was utterly out of his comfort zone, but fuck, did it also make him feel all sorts of fucking thrilled. 

you’d love the place to bits.

“shopping with a special someone in mind?” 

the words flowed from the tongue of a sales assistant: a twinkly-eyed woman whose arms spread in a greeting as she closed the distance to him. “a partner, perhaps?”

bloody hell.

“oh, no—err—,” ghost cursed under his breath as he let out a deep laugh. “just a friend, really.”

“that’s one lucky friend right there,” she chuckled. “we carry a wide range of sizes and models for all body types, but if there’s any chance that you’d happen to know their measurements, that would—“

“yeah. of course. yeah, I’ve got—,” his finger slid into the pocket of his jacket, and he pulled out a neatly folded note that he handed to the assistant with a grin. “I—err—asked her stylist.”

“your friend is in the show business, is she?” the assistant mused as she unfolded the paper—a touch of warm amusement on her features as her eyes scanned the handwriting. “perfect. I see that they’ve included everything we need for finding the—,” she paused, her brows rising as a bright smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “you really did come prepared, huh?”

“yeah, I’ve got val to thank for that,” he let out a laugh as his gaze traveled across the store. everything about the space screamed luxury, from the velvet couches to the tall windows and the complimentary champagne that the assistant—nila, she introduced herself—was now offering him.

yet with a shake of his head and a polite smile ghost declined the drink, all due to the spark of curiosity prickling under his skin.

while he was not usually a man to display his feelings and emotions publicly, as his feet now led him towards a stand in the middle of the store, he knew there was no use in trying to bite down his smile. 

for on a round stand, surrounding a tall flower-arrangement, half a dozen sets of lingerie were gently placed: each of them damn near handcrafted to you.

their colors, cuts, and details were all you.

“seems like something’s stood out," nila’s voice was warm as she stepped to him.

“she’ll call me a bloody stalker for knowing her this damn well, but these—,” ghost let out a warm chuckle as he nodded his head, “yeah. she’d feel fuckin’ beautiful in these.”

“you really do know her,” she peered up at him, much in the same way that he was used to with other women. yet what came to her, in her eyes was nothing but genuine curiosity: warmth not towards ghost, but towards you. “she’s really lucky to have someone like that.”

“it’s really fuckin’ me who’s gotten lucky,” despite the whisper of a smile on his features, with his words his voice dipped ever so slightly. “she’s the best thing I’ve ever—,” he wet his lips with a chuckle. “it’s the way she makes you feel seen. special. like you—“ he shook his head. “fuckin’ hell do I know. never really been good with words.”

“if even a fraction of that glimmer in your eyes is visible when you look at her—,” nila arched an amused brow. “believe me, she knows.”

“rather she didn’t.”

“stuck on that stage, huh?”

ghost grinned, wetting his lips as a touch of warmth rose to play on his cheeks. “alright, enough of that, yeah? back to the—,” he gestured towards the stand with a chuckle, “fuckin’ lingerie, eh?”

the next two hours flew by on wings as ghost gathered a selection of pieces for you. each one was carefully picked not only to bring attention to all those things he knew you loved about yourself but also all those small parts that you were still learning to embrace. all of it—he hoped—to help you see yourself in the way that he saw you.

nothing short of perfect.

“the last one,” nila smiled as her fingers finished tying off one last satin bow: one just as perfect as the previous dozen had been. “and we’re all done.”

ghost wet his lips with a chuckle as he reached for the gift box. “is it weird to suddenly feel fuckin' nervous?”

“a little,” she smiled. “you really don't need to worry,” she arched a carefully amused brow, “ghost.”

his gaze found hers, his brows furrowing slightly. “you know who—“

“from the moment you walked in.” nila’s laugh was soft as she leaned against the counter: her amusement now reflecting back on the features of ghost.

“and so, you know who these are for, eh?"

“it’s just a wild guess, really.” her grin turned into a careful smile. “she’s beautiful. don’t—,” she shook her head. “don’t let her go.”

“fan of hers?”

“sexual awakening of sorts.”

“fuckin’ understandable,” ghost’s laugh was breathless as he pushed off the counter, his hands now filled with gift bags. “thank you, eh? for all your help.”

“of course,” she beamed—only for her eyes to widen with a sudden realization. “hold up! I almost forgot—“ she reached over the counter to wrap her fingers around the note of measurements scribbled down by valeria. 

“believe me,” nila laughed as she slipped it into the pocket of ghost’s jacket. “you don’t want to lose it.”

it was not until he had made his way home that he finally fished out the folded paper: the one that did not only include the measurements of your bust, hips, and waist. scribbled at the bottom was also an additional message, accompanied by a small hand-drawn picture.

on the off chance that one of these days you’ll go and admit just how down bad you are for her. – V

a measurement, and next to it, a drawing of a ring.

fuckin’ hell.

ghost blinked his eyes shut with his laugh, deep and warm.

for now, the small pile of gift-wrapped boxes would have to do, yet as he walked to his bookshelf and slid the note between the pages of his favorite book… 

that’s when he promised himself to never lose that small paper, and with it, the reminder to hold onto you, too.

a/n: aah my wee cheeks are literally cramping from how brightly I smiled when writing this, haha. too cute? nah, we don’t know her. love you all! / pornstar!ghost masterlist / my inbox is still so very open for all your thoughts about him. 💌

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #pornstar!ghost

[rosiesmuts]

Muse

Le Serrafim Kazuha

4,000 Words

A/N: KazuhaSmuts?

Kazuha Nakamura. Fuck. The gorgeous idol your new muse, her beauty transcending what the camera can capture, able to take your breath away with those curves and bright smile. A consummate professional, striking poses without needing direction, a sense for it without experience, the pictures coming out flawless.

Even in basic jeans and a t-shirt, Kazuha exudes a beauty, a hotness that has nothing to do with being an idol. Her confidence is stunning and her sensuality is electrifying—not something manufactured for a photoshoot but inherent and undeniable. You're standing next to a goddess. Absolutely gorgeous face, captivating eyes, voluptuous curves, and a charm she's too comfortable with. There's no effort there, no faux coyness or intentional sultry look. Just the radiance of a stunning idol who seems almost oblivious to what she inspires, but you can tell from the heat in Kazuha's gaze and her naughty grin, a mischievous desire swirling around in her that she'll never speak out loud—she has you enthralled.

So fuck.

Fuck these lustful thoughts clouding your head and this heat building in your chest. This is supposed to be a job, but when Kazuha reaches for the hem of her shirt and the lines of muscles accentuating her abs as her t-shirt peels up, that desire inside you is more than unprofessional.

Focus.

Fuck.

This is part of the shoot, supposed to show off the 'Calvin Klein' on her sports bra, but the flexing of her body and the little curl on her smiling lips leaves the underwear an afterthought. You should've been used to this, there's been legitimate supermodels in even less clothing in these photoshoots. But there's something about Kazuha, her innocent smiles and demure laughter, this aura of untouchable and almost fragile femininity about her.

And she's fucking teasing you, those faint lip curls, the flash of teeth from her smirk. She knows her effect, she enjoys your lingering eyes and hungry looks. An arm folded up above her head, leaning against the wall as her other hand grips a rolled up shirt, an underwear ad waiting to happen. Everything about Kazuha screams confidence and sensuality, even her long toes, wiggling a bit for some reason as her smirk broadens, the look in her eyes daring you, almost like she's trying to say something she cannot voice.

Kazuha tilts her head, pulling her lower lip between her teeth, tugging on it, biting into it. Seducing with the barest hints, challenging and inciting with the slightest of moves. It feels almost too intimate and that makes it all the more intoxicating, making the breath hitch in your throat and your heart race in anticipation.

"Cut!"

You have to shout out, the sexual tension overbearing and suffocating. "Let's take an hour for lunch everyone. Good work today, we got a lot of good shots." Your voice is steady, hiding your tumultuous feelings as best as possible. Kazuha beams at the praise and your façade of control crumbles as she teases and tempts you even further, giving a flirtatious wink before slipping into her dressing room.

It's a bit of a walk for you to get to your office, but it gives you space to think about what's gotten into you. This is just a photoshoot, you've dealt with plenty of sexy and beautiful models in much more scandalous poses. Kazuha was in plain clothes! There shouldn't have been anything erotic there. And yet the way the fabric hugged her body, her eyes watching your every move, and that flirty edge to her smile, it was impossible to ignore. Even now your mind's lingering on the last image of Kazuha, staring you down.

One hour to gather yourself. That's what you need—to take your mind off of those...impurities. Kazuha, even her name in your head makes your heart quicken and breath shorten. Just get a hold of yourself. No one can read your mind, and as long as you don't go acting out any of those lurid desires then this'll all just blow over...

"Hey."

You didn't even hear your door open, Kazuha's sweet voice catching you off-guard. Your eyes snap towards her, the entire reason for your break now standing in the office, Kazuha's free hand runs through her hair, this act of playing shy a fascinating dichotomy with the sultry woman you just worked with this morning.

All that build-up and time spent thinking about her left you absolutely stunned by Kazuha's entrance. For the second time she managed to catch your heart in your mouth, freezing your tongue and leaving you speechless.

"Can we go over those pictures that you took? I'd like to see them if that's okay?"

Her request is innocent enough, but you can't help but notice she locks the door behind her. A simple, innocent click of the lock, but the implication was very clear.

Kazuha leans in a bit too closely, a subtle grin as she clicks through the pictures and you're not quite sure if this was real or all your dirty imagination playing tricks on you. Did she really just touch your wrist and give it a squeeze or was she just checking the time and brushed by you accidentally?

Kazuha sits in silence, taking a cursory look at every frame before getting to the next. The silence is more than suffocating. You can barely hear anything outside the pounding in your ears. She stops the slideshow on the most salacious photo: Kazuha lifting her top, the slightest hint of her sports bra, her perfect abs captured so wonderfully on film.

"This one is good! Don't you agree?" Kazuha asks, tilting her head at you and pulling her lip in between her teeth, letting her eyes drag languidly down your figure, devouring you in the most erotic manner with just her gaze alone.

"...yeah..." is all you manage to stammer out, voice stuck in your throat and thoughts wandering in places they really shouldn't.

"Don't think I didn't catch you staring..."

Kazuha steps back, reenacting the shot that got you so worked up—her fingers reach the hem of her shirt, inching the garment up, more and more of her perfect abdomen getting revealed, tight lines that curve and ripple in a tantalizing dance, begging for someone to run their tongue across the slopes and dips of her stomach.

Fuck.

This was supposed to be an hour to gather your thoughts and recompose yourself, not go further into disarray with Kazuha standing in front of you. You lick your lips, a futile attempt to bring some moisture back into a dry mouth as your hands instinctively go into your pockets to prevent anything from going out of place.

This time it's different, Kazuha takes her shirt completely off, the gray Calvin Klein sports bra fully visible, hiding her tiny tits from view. It's a feast for the eyes—the flexing of her abs, the dip of her waist, that sensual confidence in every twitch and curl of her muscles.

"Whoops." Kazuha playfully teases, acting like the removal of the t-shirt is accidental, a casual display of carelessness. Her bottom lip between her teeth, holding it hostage and pressing it between her pearl white teeth. That stare, dark brown and chocolate eyes swallowing you whole and consuming you.

It becomes clear as day, the flirting and lustful looks were no joke, an honest come-on from this hotter-than-hot idol. And you could lose everything right here and right now, the implications and consequences could be catastrophic, but when her hand lands on yours, giving you a gentle caress, it's hard not to succumb.

"It's impolite to stare, Mr. Photographer," Kazuha coos. Your hands find her sides, fingertips digging in, unable to hold back anymore. Years of ballet, and now dancing to her own music and choreography, there is nothing less than admirable in her sculpted body, each muscle firm but toned.

The pads of your thumbs feel the ridges, tracing the defined lines, slowly climbing higher and higher.

"Such a naughty man."

Kazuha gives her own belly a featherlight caress, your hands slip underneath the elastic of her bra. Hot flesh greets your palms and her tiny tits are barely enough for a squeeze, so smooth and soft and absolutely perfect. Her nipples harden immediately, small and sensitive, crying out for attention, pinched by your fingers.

This is beyond unprofessional, absolutely irresponsible, a blight on everything a photographer should be—to have their hands under their model's clothes and get so engrossed with someone they've only known for a day. But, fuck. You could always find another job. Just touching and playing with Kazuha though—a chance of this sort of happiness would be gone forever.

The choice becomes clear the moment Kazuha kisses you, hungrily swallowing any excuses and closing any chance of leaving. The way she claims you is exhilarating, overwhelmingly powerful in that seductive passion as she claims ownership with her tongue, overtaking every bit of hesitation and apprehension in your soul and planting a seed of raw, unfiltered lust in the empty void.

Your excitement is evident, something hard is pressed against her thigh.

"Is it just a big camera down there, Mr. Photographer?" A tsk-tsk leaves Kazuha's lips, those dirty, dirty, beautiful lips, and that haughty smile plastered on her face while her fingers nimbly undo your pants. "Naughty, naughty Mr. Photographer!" Kazuha hums the words into your ear, tickling you, making your skin shiver in delight and electrifying you from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

Her lips are on your neck, her hand is wrapped around your cock. It's all too much—this sexy, gorgeous, brilliant, sensual woman, taking everything with the same enthusiasm and conviction that she'd do in a song and a dance.

Each kiss on your body feels like the brush of the lips of an angel, her hands roaming your body, a subtle hint of her sharp, immaculate nails, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin.

She leaves you panting, a broken record of sighs and low moans until she releases your erection.

"Take off my pants for me Mr. Photographer."

Her words are quiet, her tone more husky than anything else, a hint of arrogance and self-indulgence. A direct command with no room for disobedience. Her back is against the wall, her hips jutted out for easy access— the baggy jeans easily fall off her legs, revealing her toned dancer's physique. Her thick thighs flexing in anticipation, the matching Calvin Klein panties the only obstacle standing in between you and heaven.

Her sexiness is something else, the shapely, sinful outline of her ass, the swell of her curves—that v-line is a mouthwatering treat, teasing with the prospect of a delight waiting to be explored. Everything on Kazuha is toned and breathtaking.

There is no thought, no plan. Pure primal instinct urges you forward, kneeling to run your tongue along that delicious path leading straight down to heaven and bliss and everything you could possibly desire. Your lips press against her stomach, her coy smile grows as you kneel before her, fingers in her elastic waistband, pulling and dragging it down.

Inch by inch, her lower half comes into view and you can't contain yourself any longer.

"Fuck..." the curse slips from you, involuntarily and inevitable, and the sight in front of you is breathtaking: her pussy is absolutely perfect, full and engorged, aching for touch, drooling in obvious desire.

Teasing kisses are planted on the inside of her thighs, inching closer and closer. She gives a slight groan. That sweet taste of victory. Lips upon lips. Tongue against slit. Kazuha is an impatient one, her hands cradling your head, locking you into position, the silky lips rubbing against yours. The roughness with which her hips move excites you, how desperately she pushes her crotch against your mouth. She's not shy at all, each and every movement bold and intentional, greedy and ravenous, entirely unlike her demure, innocent persona.

It's hard not to enjoy this, enjoying her unbridled desire—getting suffocated by her muscular thighs squeezing the sides of your face, her cunt grinding against you, leaving her delicious nectar all over your lips and chin. The more she pushes, the more she suffocates, the more excited and aroused you become, fingers sinking into the flesh of her thighs. It is as if your life depended on tasting her juices, that tart ambrosia from this sultry dancer and songstress, an aphrodisiac you'll never tire of.

Kazuha puts a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle those wanton sounds but failing to completely hide those telltale grunts and moans—her toes curling just another sign. The closer she gets, the tighter her thighs squeeze and... Fuck. If you're gonna die, this is probably the best way to go.

Kazuha shudders in ecstasy, a full body spasm while a cry of pleasure slips free from those luscious pink lips. It's too tempting not to explore her with your fingers as well, the little nub throbbing and aching for stimulation, eagerly twitching whenever your fingers circle it. There is a wild and untamed ferocity to the way Kazuha's legs instinctively curl and flex, writhing in unhindered bliss.

She leans back, pushing more weight into her back, holding herself up on shaking legs and heavy breaths. A sense of victory floods you. She was putty in your hands, her beautiful legs shaking and knees wobbling. Your pride swelled—to have the otherwise impeccably poised songstress a shivering mess.

"That... Was..." Kazuha struggles to talk, the red on her cheeks running down her chest and spreading down her heaving abs. "...Fucking amazing," she pants, her adorable smile permanently fixed on her beautiful face, lips parted just slightly.

Fuck.

Absolutely beautiful.

Her appearance is entrancing. Those warm, dark brown eyes with a sly, playful expression. Plush pink lips pulled into a sultry smirk, teasing, as her hair cascades behind her shoulders. Kazuha pulls you back up, staring you directly in the eye, full of sensual promise.

"I think you deserve a reward, Mr. Photographer," Kazuha says between languid strokes of your cock. Those talented fingers tease you, squeezing and pumping with precision, hitting every one of your buttons, a cocky, knowing glint in her eyes. You're not one to stand idly by, reaching for her sides, massaging her hips and brushing along her waist.

This is not a slow and drawn-out affair. Every touch between the two of you is desperate and fiery, full of passion and an intense need to feel more and more—needing to satisfy your hunger. Her arms reach above her head and you finally toss away that pesky sports bra. Perky nipples beg to be teased and kissed.

You give her pecs a light lick before blowing cool air onto her sensitive, pointed peak. She mewls in response. Each tug on her nipple accompanied by a sultry cry from Kazuha. She's trapped, sandwiched between the wall behind her and your body, held hostage by pleasure. But one simple phrase and she takes back all control.

"Fuck me."

Two simple words. The most beautiful ones. Commanding and fierce. Kazuha doesn't beg. Kazuha doesn't ask. There's no softness in her tone, she knows what she wants and there will be no deterring her. The tip of your hard, aching cock slides across Kazuha's slick folds, smearing her juices, gliding up and down as your shaft teases her clit.

It takes all your willpower to hold back, you want this to last forever. A huge part of you doesn't believe this is actually happening and that this is all just a fever dream. But when your tip first enters her wet, hot heat, nothing feels more real and certain. There's tight, and there's this—Kazuha a woman who spends hours working out her core and performing exhaustive dance routines every single day. There's nothing tighter or better than this goddess's cunt.

Every single movement is an explosion of sensations: her inner muscles flexing and squeezing, gripping, the sensual gyrations of her hips, the shallow thrusting—this is pure perfection. Your head spins, drunk from the desire, the high of fucking this diva, being enticed by every subtle thing about Kazuha and all of it's pure insanity, almost terrifying and too unreal. You lean in, pressing against her body and giving yourself up to her.

It's a paradise that no mortal should ever be worthy of entering. That is what her cunt feels like: Heaven's gates. Something out of this world. It's like all the blood is leaving your head. That carnal desire that's been built up is now set loose in this debauchery, your primal urges taking over.

Fuck the consequences.

Nothing matters right now but this.

Each thrust into Kazuha elicits a cute, soft moan, her tongue hanging loosely from her lips and her eyes fluttered shut in bliss. Her nails dig into your back, the painful searing feeling mixes perfectly with the sweet pleasure coursing through your body. There's no gentleness or love, nothing other than lust and passion. Flesh against flesh.

Kazuha pushes you back, a naughty expression painted all over her face, pupils wide and tongue licking her lips.

"Wanna see a trick?"

There's no time to respond, her leg lifted into the air, showing off her flexibility and resting on your shoulder. This angle is unreal. You have no idea how she manages to keep her balance, especially when it allows you to slide even deeper into her cunt. The change is striking and her hands clasp over her mouth, failing to stifle a long, loud moan.

It's as impressive as it is erotic, using her ballet skills as a sexual advantage. Each pump in is pure pleasure, so hot and wet, you're drowning in her. Her walls clench and squeeze around your cock, as if she can't bear to let it leave, unwilling to relinquish your presence from her cunt.

"You're making me-" her words are cut off, Kazuha biting down hard on your shoulder in her attempt to stop the cry of passion. A hand wraps around her ankle, gripping her leg, hoisting her a little higher for even deeper thrusts. Her thighs and legs flex, locking you into place, keeping you there as she throws her head back in pleasure.

Kazuha bursts. For the second time. Shivering. Gasping. Pulsating. As if her pussy can't decide what's the best way to please the cock inside of her, an infuriating tightness and gyration around you.

Her leg leaves your shoulder, her whole body leaning against you as Kazuha's tired, labored breathing fans the back of your ear.

"That was quite the trick." Kazuha giggles at your lame attempt at a joke, pressing her finger against your lips.

"Did I say I was finished?"

Of all the things you should have expected after all the salacious behavior she exhibited during her first two orgasms, you really don't know why you should have expected anything less than what she did next: wrapping her arms around your neck and her legs around your waist.

Her forehead leans against yours, your tandem breaths sync up, and the calmness lasts for maybe a second before Kazuha presses a small peck against your mouth. She grinds down and starts working against your lap, her pussy bobbing up and down the hardness of your cock. You're carrying her weight now, Kazuha lifting herself up, then letting gravity guide her hips downwards to fully seat your dick.

Your fingers sink into her tight ass. She rides you, no break, not pausing once in her movements, sheathing herself repeatedly onto your girth. She's fucking you—every pent up frustration in living an idol's life is now being released into that. It dawns on you that in no moment were you ever in control, Kazuha stole every bit of agency from you.

Even so, your hips are locked in place.

Even as the room smells of sex and you're completely ensnared in a tangle of limbs. The loud clapping of flesh on flesh ringing in your ears—every bit of this situation is screaming irresponsibility and wrong. To fuck an idol whose star is on the rise would spell an end for a promising career. And yet Kazuha never fails to get her way, it's undeniably clear the moment that devious smile spreads across her face and the heated sparkles light up in her eyes, this vixen is determined to have what she wants.

Everything is burning up—your loins are on fire, Kazuha's steamy hot insides are the match.

"How do I feel, Mr. Photographer?" The sweetest, honeyed voice but with the devil's timbre. Kazuha fucks the words out of you, and your mouth feels so dry—you can't find the will or ability to speak as Kazuha smiles triumphantly.

Your life flashes before your very eyes. The decisions, the events—everything leading up until this very moment where you found yourself impossibly entangled in a gorgeous superstar, unable to get free from this spell. Everything culminates. From the time you were told you'd be working with her. From her flirty looks during the shoot.

Your hour of recess turned into this wild, irresponsible, crazy scenario. A lustful mess, as evidenced by the slick sheen that's collected around Kazuha's tight hole, glistening in the pale light. The tiniest twitches of her face, the furrowing of her brow—she's getting close again.

A handful of violent bounces is all she needed. With a stilted, violent scream and her pussy choking and gushing all over your thick rod. Everything's too hot and your toes begin curling and you can't stop fucking her, holding her perfect round ass, you start thrusting upwards—into her oversensitive cunt.

Kazuha squeals and it's too late to stop now, the sound of her pitiful cries as her body jerks and trembles and shakes—you're cumming together, perfectly synced in this debauchery. Her cunt squeezes the orgasm out of you. All over her walls. Flooding her insides, the warmth spilling out and dripping down and marking the both of you in the naughtiness of this exchange.

She collapses in your embrace, slumping against your chest and struggling to hold herself up. Both her feet rest on the ground, and the exhaustion is evident on her face—heaving breathlessly with a bright, brilliant smile as her knees threaten to give out beneath her.

Kazuha doesn't say anything, not a word, but she's glowing—unable to wipe that gorgeous grin off her face. There's no sign of regret either, or any hint of shame or guilt. No trace of anything but unbridled happiness and pure, raw satisfaction. A mischievous, perverse happiness that a woman in her profession shouldn't exude, not with the career waiting ahead of her.

A knock on the door. Shit. It's already been an hour?! There's a short pause, and she's pressing her finger to her lips, giggling quietly while giving a cheeky wink and getting herself dressed.

"I'll be right out." You yell at the door, sounding a bit winded as the thoughts come to you. It's easy to zip up, put away, and readjust yourself but there is absolutely no way you can cover up the smell, an obvious pungent musk that'd have anyone wrinkling their nose, the smell of hot, sweaty sex.

Kazuha winks at you and struts towards the door. A deep inhale, and the moment the door opens a whoosh of cool air clears out the fog from the past hour's festivities. "Make me look good out there Mr. Photographer," and in the span of an eye-blink, the façade she's made her identity, Kazuha's the innocent, sweet idol once again, her perverted desires and lustful yearning hidden under a veil of composure and modesty...

#kazuha smut #le serrafim kazuha smut

[number1mingyustan]

If your taking recs can you do a jealous mingyu smut idw but I've been in love with your mingyu fics there so good!

model!mingyu x model!fem!reader

warnings: cursing, kissing, explicit smut, established relationship, fingering (f)., oral (f)., rough sex, begging, recording, sex on camera, oral (m.) , unprotected sex, creampie, jealousy

_______________________________________________

Mingyu isn't very good at hiding his emotions. He never really has been. He can try all he wants but there's always something in his tone of voice or his body language that serves as a dead giveaway of how he really feels.

Like right now.

He's got a smile on his face but there's a twitch in his eye and an aura that he seems to be emitting that says otherwise.

There's too many eyes on you tonight and he can't stand it. You recently went public with your relationship, so it's only natural that attention would be drawn your way.

The media took the news surprisingly well. Focused on theorizing how beautiful your kids would be with two parents so prominent in the modeling industry.

However, there seems to be more attention drawn on just you tonight. It's a typical high society event full of designer brands and expensive champagne. Paparazzi are savaging what they can, nothing out of the ordinary.

But you're radiating a different aura tonight and others seem to have picked up on it. More pictures and people are approaching you. Of course, you look absolutely stunning tonight, but his blood is boiling.

Too many eyes lingering on your body.

So he holds his arms around your waist a little tighter. Cuts conversations short and whisks you away from others as much as he can.

You catch onto it early, but choose not to address it. The words left unsaid even through the unnecessarily tense car ride back home.

The front door opens slowly and you step through. Your heels resound throughout the kitchen of the apartment as you step in. Mingyu takes your coat wordlessly, hanging it up in the closet.

You flick on the light above the stove, providing the dark kitchen with dim lighting only bright enough that you can make out the features of his face.

You lean over the counter, resting your chin on the palm of your hand and bat your eyelashes. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumvles, corssing his arms and leaning against the wall.

You raise an eyebrow, stepping from behind the counter. You walk over to him, taking his hands in yours. "Gyu."

He breathes out. "Fine."

"I didn't like the attention you were getting tonight."

"What do you mean love," you ask, cocking your head to the side.

"I don't know.... it just felt like everyone was staring at you and talking to you. Don't get me wrong, you're the prettiest girl in the world but fuck–it made me so mad. "

"You don't have anything to worry about Gyu," You look up at him sincerely. " 'M all yours."

"I know.." he mumbles. "Can't help it. You're too pretty."

You grin. "I'm only yours."

"Fuck," he breathes out, leaning closer so your faces only have a small gap separating you. "Say it again."

Your eyes scan his face slowly, admiring his features. "I'm yours."

"Fuck," he breathes out.

He leans in, closing the small gap between you. He kisses you roughly, leaning your back against the kitchen counter. His hands almost immediately grip your ass, giving it a light squeeze as he kisses you messily.

You drop to your knees, hands scrambling to undo his belt buckle. You allow his pants to drop and bring his underwear down with it. You waste no time, taking his thick cock in your hands and pumping him quickly.

You spit, coating your hand with the lubricant and continuing to stroke the length of his cock. You feel him harden and grow in your hand.

Once satisfied, you open your mouth, pressing the weight of his cock against your tongue. You take him in deeper, allowing your cheeks to fit as much as you can in your mouth.

You bob your head, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat. You continue using your hand, stroking what doesn't fit in your mouth as you suck him.

"Shit–yeah.." he moans.

He grabs a fistful of your hair, making a lazy excuse for a ponytail and starts moving his hips. He starts off slow, testing the waters before his hips pick up pace and he fucks your throat.

He's vocal, letting moans and groans of your name slip past his lips as he thrusts his cock into your mouth. Your eyes water, but you manage.

Regardless of how many eyes lingered and wandered tonight, Mingyu felt a sense of pride in his chest. They could stare all they wanted, but this was a sight for his eyes only.

No one else gets to see you on your knees, determined to take everything he gives you while tears ruin your makeup and turn you into a beautiful mess.

He tugs at the makeshift ponytail in his fist and pulls your lips off of him. He guides you back up onto your feet and carries you in his arms toward the bedroom.

He helps you undress, taking off the black Valentino dress you're wearing and hanging it up in your closet. He makes his way back to you, pressing his lips against yours passionately once again.

Your back meets the mattress and his hands wander along your body. He pulls at the little bit of fabric still covering your body, tossing the articles of clothing onto the floor.

He pulls away from the kiss, flipping you over onto your stomach. He presses your chest down, lifting your ass up in the air. He curses under his breath.

"Shit... gonna fuck you so good. Gotta let everyone know you're mine."

You hum in agreement, sinking your face into the pillow. "Please.."

He spreads your legs apart and dips his head down behind you. His warm tongue licks a long stripe through your folds. You shudder at the unexpected contact.

He sucks on your clit, gliding his tongue along your folds skillfully from behind. He slips two fingers into you, stretching your cunt out. He curls his fingers, pressing them deeper into you at the angle from behind.

You cry out, burying your face deeper into the pillow to muffle your incessant moans. He lands a harsh slap on your ass. He pulls his fingers out of you and removes his lips from your cunt entirely. You whine.

You lift your head and start to look back, but Mingyu grabs you by the throat and forces you to look straight. "Liar..."

You feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance.

"Acting like you're all mine.." he scoffs. "Getting all shy and quiet on me. Gonna make you scream and let everyone know."

Before you can respond, he's thrusting his cock into you. You cry out at first contact, feeling his cock splitting you open. "Fuck!"

He grabs a fistful of your hair again, tipping your head back to hold it up and prevent you from hiding in the pillow. He fucks you roughly, hips meeting your ass with force and an unwavering pace.

Your hands grip the bedsheets to keep you grounded. His cock fills you up perfectly, stretching your cunt open and making your legs shake.

"Mingyu ah-" you cry out.

He's reaching deep inside of you, cock pressing against the sweet spot that drives you crazy with each thrust. His large hand tightens his grip on your hair, forcing you to tilt your head and arch your back more. You can hear his breathing behind you and his cock throbs. "Fuck.. look at you. All mine, only mine."

Mingyu reaches over to the nightstand and grabs his phone. He holds the camera up, recording the area where your bodies meet. You moan out and begin fucking yourself back on his cock. You look back, smirking at the way your ass ripples each time it meets the force of his hips. "Shit yeah–just like that baby."

His eyes roll back and he can feel himself nearing the edge. He snakes a hand between your thighs and starts rubbing quick circles along your clit. You moan, crying out his name like a chant.

Your orgasm hits you suddenly. "Fuck– I'm cumming. Ah-Gyu!"

Your chest rises and falls quickly as the pleasure courses through your body. He follows behind you, thrusting sloppily until he's filling your cunt with his cum. The phone camera is shaky, but he fucks you through it.

You both breathe heavily as you come down. He pulls out, making sure the camera is pointed where your bodies meet. His cum drips out of your, running along your inner thighs. He watches with a smirk and cuts the video off.

He kisses your temple and climbs off the bed to get you a wet rag. He cleans you up and dresses you in one of his t-shirts. He puts on a pair of sweats and climbs underneath the covers next to you.

He spoons you, holding your body close to his knowing that you're his girl and only his.

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #seventeen drabbles #seventeen angst #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #kpop

[ssareids-coffee]

okay i caved so here is some FILTHY perv!eddie!!

warnings: panty stealing, piss kink (more holding but still), light foot fetish, masturbation, piercings!!

eddie was used to being called horrible things, freak, weirdo, cult leader even- but there was one thing that he knew he was, and that was a pervert. dirty magazines stolen from the shops with his favourite pages dog-eared so that he could find them easier. he was obsessed with this one spread where the model looked just like you, legs opened with her hand covering her pussy as she lent backwards in pleasure. you quickly became the objects of all his fantasies, he would find himself furiously masturbating in the bathroom after your made him painfully hard, completely accidently. he was driving you home after you snuck into a movie together and drunk the huge ass cups of soda when you started squeezing your legs together anxiously.

“ed’s can you speed up or something, i think i’m going to piss myself” you whine, looking over at him. eddie freezes, response caught in his throat as he can see you squirming out the corner of his eye and he can’t help but think about how cute look. he was rock hard at this point, thinking about how pretty you look when your desperate and about how much he would want to drag out this ride just to watch your cute little embarrassed face when you can’t hold it anymore. the thought of you being so desperate to piss you do it in his car, next to him and the idea of him having that level of control over you made him feel feral. he sped up to get you home anyway, but the fact he couldn’t have just made him impossibly hard. when you went home that night, he fucked his hand thinking about how pretty you looked when you were so desperate. it was that point he realised he wasn’t just a perv for anyone, it was just for you. all of his filthy thoughts over these last few years were all focused around you- all the particularly disgusting ones anyway.

after a night of getting high and watching movies you had fallen asleep in his bed, not having bought any pyjamas with you eddie lent you his shirt. you returned from the bathroom wearing nothing but his metallica t-shirt and a pair of black panties, nipples poking through the worn fabric of the shirt. sliding into bed next to him, you fell asleep quickly but his mind was too occupied by thoughts, filthy thoughts about you. your lips slightly parted as you sighed in your sleep, fixated on them he could not stop imagining how pretty your lips would look wrapped around him. impossibly hard at this point, he shifted and grazed the outline of his cock through his sweats. his eyes dragged down your body, quickly finding your tits, focusing on the outline of your nipples through your shirt and- fuck were those piercings. it was too much, he locked himself in the bathroom and desperately fucked his hand as he pictured you, on your knees begging for him.

visiting your trailer this time, he excused himself to the bathroom and found himself staring at your laundry basket- or the lacy pair of underwear thrown on the top. eddie knew that it was filthy, but he picked them up and pushed them to his nose, inhaling deeply as he let your scent overtake him. he groaned, obsessed with the way you smelt, thinking about how you tasted, he put the panties in his pocket for later. he went home earlier than us usual that night, desperate to wrap your pretty little thong around his cock as he imagined emptying his load onto your sweet pussy. coating your panties in his cum, he tucked them under your pillow for safe keeping.

he was okay with being a perv, he just didn’t want you to find out how disgustingly he was thinking of his best friend. one particularly hot summer night, you were sprawled out on his sofa, bare legs from the sinful shorts you were wearing as you rested your feet on his lap. your white sock clad feet were dangerously close to his cock, leading his mind to yet another filthy fantasy of you. he could feel himself getting harder, standing up to go to the bathroom so he could relieve himself from some of this feeling. you stopped him, placing your hand on his thigh and pushing him back down onto the sofa. eddie looked over at you, clearly confused as he waited to hear what you had to say- desperately trying to hide his hard on.

“eddie, im tired of this” you sigh, looking up at him through thick lashes.

“uh- tired of what?” he was worried, unsure of what you could mean.

“tired of pretending i don’t know you are going to the bathroom to touch yourself because i made you hard again, im tired of pretending that i don’t know you have my panties under your pillow coated with your cum and that i haven’t heard you say my name while you masturbate” placing your hand on his thigh as you moved your mouth next to his ear.

“i know you think your filthy eddie, but i am too” you whisper, pulling away slightly so you could look at him. staring back at you with blown pupils and pink cheeks, he smirks.

“what are we waiting for then baby? show me just how dirty you are”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfic #perv!eddie #this is filthy #eddie munson x reader #eddie smut

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

LITTLE DEATHS (IX)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER X

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 3.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, stalking behavior, very dark/toxic modeling standards/expectations, body image issues, food issues, scar descriptions, mentions of past intimacy, hurt/comfort, soft!Nikto, etc. (Series 18+)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You wake up the next morning in the silk sheets of your hotel bedroom, in nothing but an oversized shirt and underwear. Your mind is sluggish and, between flashes of electricity up your thighs, the entire night comes back in slow images as you groan into the pillow. 

A quick rush of a coat to cover ripped laces, the scream of sirens, Nikto arguing with authorities before you’re both released. 

It was a play of luck that you explained away the snapped wrist as a simple instance of Nikto being some white knight—he’d kept you safe, you’d said. The host had been forcing himself on you; it could be seen on the cameras. Paired with his service record and a call from your investigators, they’d let you go without any further trouble. 

Today, the small headache from the champagne was only a dull sting in the back of your skull; you hadn’t been drunk—hadn’t gotten to that point, anyway. 

Eyes starting at the far wall, a heat builds and builds on your face as the minutes pass. 

“Did we really…” you trail off in a whisper, hand coming up to your face as you roll onto your back and stifle a loud sound of exasperation, lips mouthing out, “Fuck.”

Nikto had left you shaking on his fingers in a damn storage room. Twice. 

Your lips thin, legs caught in the sheets. You weren’t even awake enough to understand the potential consequences—not only the intimate encounter, but the repercussions of not sleeping with Oriel would be swift and fierce. 

Never mind the broken bone. 

The sharp knife of that moment is a deadly thing, it digs deep into you until your eyes are watering. That desperation in the storage room—the things you said were true. You’d silenced your phone last night because you knew the reaction would be instant; undeniable. Even now, you shift over and slide your hand over it on the side table, only to pause and take a deep breath before turning it on. 

A sudden barrage of missed calls and texts slam into your ears before you slap the device back down and turn it off with fast fingers. 

Your eyes close tightly, flopping back down and covering your eyes. It was instinctual the way your heart started running from you—the fear seeping back in. 

They’re going to fire me, you think, hands shaking. They’re going to throw me out. 

Through the heavy understanding, through the ideas you have to try and salvage this, you pause only when something makes your nose twitch. Hesitating, your hands slip from your face slowly, eyelids peeling back a millimeter at a time. Staring at the gray ceiling, your brows pull back to their normal resting point as your face goes blank.

What is that? Palms going to the mattress, you sit up slowly and sniff. It was dough, maybe? Something sweet and toasted. 

Shifting, your feet connect with the cold floor, and you stand with a grunt, a tiny ache in the middle of your abdomen that makes your face heat and your hands rub at the back of your neck. A part of you was nervous more about what was outside of your door than what was in your phone—Nikto.

How would this go? Would he ignore the entire thing? Ignore you? 

“He doesn’t run from things,” you mutter aloud, walking and stepping on the torn laces of your dress at the foot of the bed. Your hands grasp one of the bags in your room, not caring to check the rest of the contents before you sift through and drag out a pair of dark sweatpants. 

Moving into them, the waistband is large, just as the legs are, but you’re too preoccupied to understand the way you’ve slipped into Nikto’s pants before you’re already at the door. Hands shaking over the handle, your fingers run the smooth metal before you shake your head and huff. 

Walking out, the scent of fresh pancakes makes itself known as you blink at the scene in front of you. Trying to understand if you were actually awake, or if this was still some dream in the airyness of your mind. The stuttering of your heart feels real.

Nikto was shirtless.

Shirtless, making breakfast. 

Your mouth is somewhat agape as you stare, struck down to a statue in the doorway as your eyelids flutter. Again, that bear tattoo writhes as the expansive muscle moves and twitches with work—Nikto’s front facing the pan that he works a spatula through. All of the ingredients are left on the counter, bought by him or already in the luxurious cabinets for your pleasure, you don’t know; flour, milk, among the others. Jams and honey. 

You don’t know how long you stand there, fighting between your desire to run your hands over his bare skin and the respectful sense you know you need to keep. It’s enough time for him to slap one more scoop of dough into the sizzling pan and pass the done pancake to the side where one more rests, steaming.

You hadn’t thought your words meant that much to him. 

Clearing your throat in shock, you see him glance over his shoulder swiftly. A bead of silence. 

“Come. Eat,” is what he says—no emotion heard in the voice, though you didn’t expect anything less. His pale eyes dart down you, and after a small break in the air, he chuckles. “Thief, yes?” 

“What?” Your brows crease. “I didn’t…” You look down and pause. It was fairly obvious that the pants didn’t belong to you. Your lips flattened, and your eyes flinched closed in embarrassment. “I must have gone through the wrong bag.”

Turning back, you hear a call from the Russian before you can disappear like a dog with its tail between its legs. 

“I don’t wear them. I do not mind.” There's low electricity in the air. He doesn’t know how to go about this either. 

Sighing, you shrug and nod, shifting back so you can walk to the kitchen counter and stuff your hands into your pockets. Leaning your hip to the corner, you fight the clamminess of your hands. The sweatpants pool at your ankles as your mouth opens. 

“Pancakes?” You ask lowly, glancing at him. 

He’s still in that balaclava, and his cargos are loose around his hips before being stuffed into dark boots that you’d never see him without.

“With jam,” Nikto grunts. “You will like them.”

You push out a tiny laugh. “I’ve had pancakes before, Nikto. I’m pretty sure most people have.”

“How would we know, hm?” Pale eyes narrow on yours, but it isn’t hostile. Nikto grumbles, moving the pan before he motions with a finger. “Those are done.”

You glance over at the pile and sigh, taking the plate with the two already done pancakes on it and padding over to grab the jam. Your eyes move down the label to find out which one it exactly is—gray isn’t exactly a large help—and open the sealed top with a tiny release of pressure. 

Getting fat.

You pause, one hand holding the top and the other the glass jar; eyes blank, you stare at the plate with a steadily sinking heart. Clearing your throat, you move a hand and twist the top back on, placing the jam down and shifting to grab a fork instead. 

“Do you think that the investigators will call with any updates—”

“Eat,” Nikto interrupts firmly from behind, back to back. 

Your face is tight, fingers tapping the counter. There’s a tension of something between you two, but you can’t name it. Not yet. But it’s there, like a blade cutting through a corset, it’s there. It’s what got you out of bed today, it’s what got Nikto to push himself to sleep shirtless for the first time in years. The possibility of…something. Unseen, you nod and take the food—moving away from the kitchen and sitting down on the couch, you carefully dig into breakfast and shift a dry forkful into your mouth. 

Eyes closed, your head slightly bows forward as you chew.

It was no secret that you were quiet today, and Nikto didn’t have to be as sharp-eyed as he was to notice. By now you would have teased him about the effort for the food, or even spoken about the mattress you slept on, Nikto had hypothesized. But it was just…silent. 

Nothing. 

In the kitchen, the Russian’s brows crease, lips pulling. He huffs, rolling his shoulders as his bones crack. 

He’d been up last night—for a long while—doing all the things he said he would until he had the clarity to understand hours later, that everything was a million times more complicated now that he knew the truth about this ‘trip’.

And he had to know all of it.

Nikto, truth be told, was a bit quiet himself; more than he usually was. He continued with breakfast in silence, listening to the sound of your fork tapping the plate as his brain fought with itself. The Russian’s mind told him to act like that hadn’t happened between the two of you—it was unprofessional, wrong down to the core. You were his charge, and he hadn’t hesitated for more than a second before he’d ripped open your dress and played with you like you were his own.

Why? Why was he so enamored by you? It didn’t make any sense. No one had ever mattered this much to him—it was absurd.

But whatever dead part of his heart that had come back to beat again said that ignoring this would be cruel to you; if all others in your life were, that was one thing he would not be. At least to you.

Nikto grunts under his breath and grabs his plate, stacked with six pancakes, before turning, grasping the jam with firm fingers, and heaping it on top. Blinking across to you, he pauses at your closed eyes—the dip of your head. Not only was there still food on your plate but it was set down on the coffee table, resting stationary. 

You couldn’t possibly be done already.

“Not good?” He asks, voice gruff.

You shake your head. “No, Nikto, they were perfect. I’m just not that hungry this morning.” Pale blue eyes stare, blinking slowly. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

Looking down at his breakfast, Nikto clenches his jaw. Grasping his plate and his utensil he walks over before he sits beside you, sinking the cushions and shuffling aside the blanket he’d had last night. When you look over at him, confused, he doesn’t utter a word, before his free hand sneaks up and hooks under his balaclava. 

It’s a moment, he knows, a moment of hesitation that instinctually tightens his muscles, stopping him with a shake of his fingers. And then, as he usually does, he forces himself through it. 

Slipping the fabric up to his nose, you stare openly at the strong jaw that comes to light, as well as the unspoken horror of scars. It isn’t even a minute before the Russian leans back with a grunt, and spreads his feet until his knee knocks yours before he shoves the first of his pancakes into his mouth with muffled chewing. 

Eyes darting away, you stare at your own feet tightly. 

Silence settles. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you whisper.

“Да,” his words are grumbled, even if you can’t see it, his face is beginning to burn. Heavy memories coming back. He won’t stay long like this—he can’t. It hurts. “I do not.”  

You sigh, hands moving up to rub along your face, cupping at it until all the whiteness of the hotel is hidden from your gaze. It wasn’t hard to feel him passing glances. 

Shaking your head, your hands fall, and you move to mirror his own position—back leaning and legs kicking out, except yours go to rest on the table next to your plate. 

“I think a part of me didn’t expect you to actually be here,” you say, not looking at him. “I’m not used to having to deal with…” your lips halt themselves, looking for words. “After.” 

No one ever stayed. Not anyone that mattered.

Nikto’s clinking fork pauses, stuttering on its course. He licks his lips, tasting the sweetness of jam. He continues to watch you as you continue on beside him, bare skin brushing—those large biceps caressing yours.

“I don’t want things to be awkward. If you can’t do your job without something feeling off anymore, I would understand if you wanted to leave. I’m sure my mother can get another operator from KorTac to take me on, she already had two from before that might still be available. I know last night was a lot. I don’t want you to feel…pressured, I guess. That was never my intention.”

He lets you finish, sensing you need to get some things off of your chest. When had he become so soft to this? To you? He was losing his backbone here—losing that edge that kept him…him.

Or was that ever him in the first place?

“I will not leave,” Nikto speaks slowly, lips moving every scar that lives there. “We are not ‘feeling off’. No one will look after you like us, and so no one will take our place until this stalker is either taken away or in ground.”

“And the awkward part?” You ask, glancing over, getting caught by long cuts and fissures. 

“We will deal,” Nikto’s chest rumbles, and you believe falling asleep to that sound would stop your nightmares altogether. “There are worse things than that, yes?” 

You huff a laugh. “I guess.” A second later, you lightly bump your elbow into his side. “You’re better at this kind of stuff than I’d thought you’d be.”

Dark brows furrow. 

“I am speaking truth. Nothing more.” 

“Mhm,” your lips carefully peel in a tiny smile. “Sure, Big Guy.”

Nikto scoffs, rolling his eyes before he takes down more of his breakfast. He glances over to see you peeking at his old insignia tattoo—the one on his shoulder. It was strange to him, how you took so much more interest in his ink than the scars; he’d been thinking about it last night.

It was against your nature to not ask about them, and yet…you had. No one had ever not asked about the scars. But, hm, Nikto’s eyes shimmer, it only made his chest swell when you chose not to. As if you understood the sanctity of them—the importance.

That was something that he just wasn’t ready to speak about yet.

“You like it?” He speaks.

You blink quickly, looking back up in an instant. There was no use hiding it. 

“What is it?” You ask him, glancing back down at the tattoo and tilting your head at it.

The image was of some sort of crest—a two-headed bird wearing crowns; holding items in their claws with a, smaller, image set into the middle. A man on horseback, spearing a dragon. 

“FSB crest.” Nikto’s voice goes lower, more under the breath than previously. “Reminder of service.” 

“Oh,” you mutter. “What are the colors?”

He hums. “Red, gold. Little silver. Mine is just black ink, though. Did not go back for second session.”

“I’ve thought of getting tattoos before,” you confess, moving out a slow hand to trace the outline in his flesh. You notice him still somewhat at your dragging nails, lips parting softly. “AMA would never go for it, but I’ve still wondered what it would be like.”

Nikto licks his lips, letting you feel him as he side-eyes you. His muscles soften as your heat seeps in, tingling blood under his epidermis. 

“What kind?”

“A bird, I suppose,” you hum. “I think they’re lovely.” 

Nikto tilts his head, but the questions can no longer sit in the back of his throat. “You continue to be their pawn. Why? I can make no sense of it, Seraph. You speak of yourself as if you are nothing.”

“I might not be anymore after last night,” you whisper, dropping your hand from Nikto’s flesh. Your eyes close; a heavy sigh on your lips. “I know it isn’t healthy, I know that. I know it’s wrong, and vile, and disgusting—but you have to hear me out when I tell you that the only thing I have is my looks—”

“That is a lie.” Nikto snarls, glaring over at your face as his plate hits the table. “Why do you say that? You are smart, Seraph, anyone with sense can see it. You are kind; good.” The Russian curses, repeating. “You are good.” 

“AMA needs investments,” your voice is muffled. “I’m not the only one that has to do things like this. I’m not special.”

The man grinds out, “It does not matter if a million go through it—you are here with us. It is our job to keep you safe now. It is special to me.”

“From a stalker,” you argue, body starting to go rigid at the intensity of the conversation. You didn’t like talking about this.

“From any threat,” Nikto barks. Face close to yours and his hard, crooked nose brushing skin. “Is this not a threat to you?”

You stare into his eyes, and it’s an expression he can’t recall you having. It makes him nervous—nervous for you in a way that was similar to when you’d disappeared from his sight. It was dead. Dead how his eyes would get on the bad days—when he couldn’t differentiate between himself and his body; what had really happened and what hadn’t. 

You were exhausted, and you didn’t even see it. 

“You need sleep,” he drops the hard tone immediately, eyes snapping over your face in fast jerks. “You need rest. Now.”

“I’m not tired.” Pale eyes bore through you, and you relent softly. “...I don’t want any more nightmares.” Your lips open and close. “They scare me because I can’t remember them, but I know something bad happened.”

Fingers come up and brush your cheek, leaving your lips flattening before the tears can make themselves known to him. 

There was just so much going on. 

The stalker, now AMA and potential repercussions? You thought if you had one thing, you had your job—trials and exploitations all, but you still had that. You still had something. Now you might not even have a home to go back to.

Bare arms shift, looping around you. With a roaming of skin on skin, Nikto bundles you in his arms and lifts, legs taking your weight. He moves you as your head rests burrowed into his neck—forehead to the long cut that loops around the side of his throat to the front. That one really made you shiver; the thought of it—the error he must have felt. Without thinking, you lay a tiny kiss on the skin, and Nikto’s legs only stutter once before he pushes open the bedroom door. 

Setting you down on the bed, he mumbles into your scalp before he pulls away, moving his balaclava back down with firm fingers. “What can I do?”

Your body shifts, clothed in borrowed pants and the weight of a million realities. You wished you could see the color of his eyes—those creased things that watch you so closely; the marring of the different shades of his scars. 

You wished you could pick up the courage to ask him if you were his soulmate, at the very least. The hunch was dimming, taking a backburner the longer it stayed in your mind. Surely he would say something by now? Right? With how he was, you expected Nikto to be reserved about it, but now…

Now your hope was drowning itself. 

You wished you weren’t damaged goods.

“Sit with me?” Your weak voice quivers, but no tears fall. 

Nikto stares, head tilting slowly as his now re-hidden face is a mystery. “Да. Yes.” It’s so tiny that the words are almost lost. 

So, he shifts into bed after placing his boots neatly near the bedframe, letting you scoot over as he grasps the end of the covers and moves to have his back connected to the headboard. With a large pull, the fabric slides over your body and levels at his abdomen, your head slightly above it, until scarred fingers grasp and push it down a bit.

For a bit, a heavy silence settles between the two of you. You don’t touch, you don’t talk. It’s the sound of beating hearts and rabid minds, thinking over thoughts that only serve to make things worse the longer their dark fingers are around both of your throats.

“Come,” Nikto murmurs. 

Your body instantly connects to his, hands grasping into his pants and head nuzzling his thigh. His grip finds your head, running itself over it until it ends at your shoulder and pulls you tighter to him. 

“Sleep. No nightmares, hm?” He glances down, trying to push a fractured joke. “We will scare them off.”

Your broken chuckle makes his chest tighten, and pale eyes avoid looking down at you for fear he’ll realize how addictive it is to have your flesh on his—the sensation of touch that was becoming a need. When was the last time he’d been relied on like this? Never, he thinks. 

To be protection in the barest sense. 

A boy keeping away nightmares for a girl that lays in his lap. 

No weapons, no orders. Only hands and sagging bodies, and a care that was infecting him like venom—injected into his bloodstream by white fangs. It leveled out, coating him. He wanted you to be safe, and it wasn’t just because it was his job. It was because he couldn’t imagine seeing you in pain like this—in a slow death of the mind until the body rotted away with it.  

It wasn’t right to him, and he couldn’t describe it as anything other than blasphemy. Sacrilege. Nikto didn’t have the words; maybe he never would. All that he knew was that he would kill millions to never see you harmed. He would rot in the deepest part of hell willingly, go through darkness and fire—but none of it could touch you. Not a wisp of flame; not an idea of torture. 

You were good. 

“Why do you care so much,” you whisper before you fall asleep, curious even as your eyelids are fighting to stay down.

Nikto has not taken his eyes off you. He was always honest, but this truth scares him more than any other. The nagging in the back of his skull.

“I…do not know.”

You were too good for this.

So even when he gets that text message on his phone when you’re fully sleeping, even when he shifts it out of his pocket and sees the unknown number, Nikto is not going to wake you. He’s not going to shake your head as he massages the scar that lives there, his thumb taking in the familiar bumps and dips—the trauma it caused so similar to his own. 

Nikto will not tell you of the sinking in his chest. 

The guard accepts that little death in his heart when he sees that image of the both of you in the storage room. He accepts the little death when he sees your tightly closed eyes from over his own shoulder, hands digging into his one-size-too-small suit. The obvious actions taking place that are still seared into his mind hours later. 

He accepts the little death of the caption, all in Russian but never more vile in his mind.

‘I know what you did.’

And he accepts that this stranger's death will not be so little if he ever gets his hands on him.

TAGS:

@anna-banana27, @random-thot-generator, @midwesternwitchery, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @halfmoth-halfman, @alpineswinter, @blingblong55, @cryingnotcrying, @lxne20, @not-eclipse, @theecoffeebean, @phoenixhalliwell, @h3ll-guttz, @tiinkerbell, @genjilvr, @azush4rp, @escapefromrealitysm, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @finnigansxz, @cowboybaby2, @delaynew, @doggydale, @zapphir, @littlemisstrouble, @xxtmoe, @grizzersmamma, @andreas-river, @blogdddxx, @jade-jax, @emthegrace, @lovebugmsyd, @makariaspresence, @noisyprofessorhoundsalad-blog, @scythebot, @blueoorchid, @kra-rino4ka, @caramlizedtomatoes, @strawberymilk,@frazie99, @homicidal-slvt, @develised, @crispyhusband, @cathnoneofyourbusiness, @ghostslittlegf, @generalcloudtraveler, @azsteris, @rvjaa, @creminemisinthehizzyforshizzboy, @comsyki

#ravishing allure #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #call of duty x you #mwii nikto #nikto x reader #cod nikto #nikto #cod modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #cod mw22 #mw2 2022 #mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #call of duty mwii #cod x female reader #x fem!reader #female reader

[drewsbuzzcut]

Champion In The Bed

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT (very little spanking, teasing, and slightly edited) let me know if I missed anything

takes place February 2024

You follow Mat’s gaze as you’re sitting, straddling his lap and leaning back on your hands. He ogles your jersey and backwards cap clad form, and it’s not just any jersey, it’s his all star skills jersey. The material hangs off your body as it’s too big for you, but it does a nice job at hiding your black lingerie. His eyes pick up on the way you come off shy, but your fingers fiddling with his happy trail tells him otherwise. His hands rub your thighs and he subtly goes higher until they’re hidden under the jersey. Your body breaks out in chills just from his touch alone.

Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. It’s obvious that it’s Mat’s goal to tease you until you’re at your wits end. You attempt remaining stoic so he doesn’t know just how bad you want him, but each time he licks his lips or lets his eyes dip down to your covered up cunt, you feel your resolve start to disappear. It doesn’t help that he’s completely naked underneath you. His length stands at attention, waiting to be touched by you.

“Maty,” you whisper and softly adjust yourself so you’re leaning in closer to him.

“What, pretty girl?” He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear after pulling his cap off your head, and you so badly want to suck his fingers into your mouth.

“I’m so proud of you. My hotshot, hockey boyfriend who is an all star. Fuck the skills comp, at least you can get me to cum. Plus, you looked so sexy in your jersey,” you whisper the praise in his ear, nipping at the lobe to get a small moan out of him.

“Not as sexy as you look in it,” he compliments as the tip of his nose trails along a vein in your neck. Your smooth, sweet perfume consumes him.

“Let me show you how proud I am. Let me ride you,” you plead, letting your lips on his jaw persuade him. You slip his cap back onto his head, backwards of course. He’s the hottest person you’ve ever seen, and it makes you insanely wet, you can feel it pooling in your underwear.

Your hips start to move on top of him, but his hands quickly land on your hips to halt your movements. You let out a disappointed huff that makes him chuckle.

“I thought this was about me?” He tuts and you nod your head in agreement.

“Then you’re going to be my good girl and wait until I’m ready for you to show me just how proud you are,” he chastises with a spank delivered to your ass. You let out a faint moan and throw your head back in frustration. He’s touching you but not enough and not where you need him most.

He lifts the jersey halfway up your torso, fingertips gliding over your soft skin. He unveils your see through, lacy panties. You notice the way his jaw clenched and the way his hands gripped the jersey tighter. He is having a tough time, too.

“As much as I love you wearing my jersey, I prefer you naked,” he grabs your chin, lips encompassing yours.

Your hands press into his chest. The feeling of his strong muscles drives you crazy. He slowly pulls the jersey off of you, watching the way you shiver and the way your nipples grow hard.

“Fuck. Look at you. My girl is so sexy.”

He presses a kiss to your neck and softly sucks on your skin until his mark is left behind. His lips move down to the tops of your breasts while he thumbs at your nipples over your lacy bra. You subconsciously arch into his touch, getting him to unclasp your bra expertly with one hand. He sends you a cocky smirk and a wink, and if you weren’t already soaked, that’d probably do the trick.

His thumbs tuck into the thin straps of your thong before sliding back out. He drags a finger from your bellybutton down to the top of your underwear. Before you can even figure out what he’s doing, Mat rips your thong in half.

“That was brand new,” you gasp.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll buy you a lot more when we get home,” he shushes you.

He fiddles with your “13” pendant on the chain around your neck before he pushes you to lean back like you originally were.

“Baby, please. Let me fuck you, please,” you beg as he starts to fist his cock.

He bites on his lip -something he does when he’s being a tease- and nudges your clit with his angry and leaking tip. You let out the sweetest moan and try to move your hips for some kind of friction. Sadly, he stills your movements and shoots you a warning glare. He suddenly lifts you up, pulling you closer and slipping his length in between your folds.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Make a mess,” he instructs you, guiding your hips back and forth until you start to move on your own.

Your hips start slow, trying to get used to the pleasure of this type of teasing. The more wet you become, the easier it is to grind against his length. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders for support and you let your arousal coat your boyfriend.

Your cunt practically jerks him off without him actually being inside of you, and you make sure to rub your clit against the veins of his shaft. Your pleasure drags out along his girth, moans spilling from the seam of your lips. His eyes are glued to the way you work yourself on him, feeling himself start to pulse. Your sticky slickness is a good look on him.

The look of lust that washes over your features turns him on even more, because he’s the one who’s making you feel this way.

“I think I’m going to cum,” you whisper. The pressure on your clit and the fact that Mat’s letting you make a mess on him drives you fast to an orgasm.

“Not yet,” he says, lifting your body off his lap and placing you on his thigh.

Your body is already thrumming, and your orgasm is lingering in your stomach ready to burst at Mat’s signal. You grind against his thick thigh, the hard muscle stroking your clit just right. He flexes the muscles in his thigh and then relaxes them. The action sends a vibration through you and that electricity drives you to the edge. You're barely holding onto your release, but the sensation is quickly making you crumble. You buck your hips faster and you hear the blood rushing to your ears as you continue to throb on top of him. Your wet cunt contracts around nothing and you so badly want his dick inside of you.

“Please, Maty. I need you. I want you inside of me,” you plead and he quickly hauls you off his thigh and pushes into your pussy in a quick stroke.

Your arms lock around his neck as you bounce on his cock, body on fire with how deep he hits inside of you. Your breasts sway in front of him and he shoves his face between the supple flesh. His mouth ravages your skin until you’re left a whimpering mess.

You rut up against him, screams clawing up your throat each time his tip massages your sweet spot. Your hands grab onto the bill of his cap, pulling it back to make tufts of hair stick out and stick to his forehead.

“Yes! Yes! Oh my god. Right there, baby. Fuck yes,” you let the scream rip through your entire body as heat and tingles start to spread beyond your stomach. You bounce down harder as your pussy continues to take him deeper. His hands grip your ass to try to slow you down, but the way your arousal drips down his shaft makes him lose his sanity.

“You better not cum. I can feel your little pussy squeezing down on me,” he grips your throat and speaks into your mouth as you slant your lips over his.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry, mouth opening in a loud moan during your wet kiss.

Mat abruptly pulls out of you, ignoring your whimpers as he rises to his knees. He loops his arms under your knees, picking you up so your body is completely under his control. He thrusts back into you, using his grip on your hips to slam you down on him.

“Harder,” you whine, throwing your head back. Your chest heaves and you try to match his thrusts but his grip is too tight. You’ll have delicious fingerprints on the dips of your hips later. You feel your body start to shake, your orgasm looming over you. The way Mat bulges in your stomach drags him to the brink of his orgasm.

“You’re so sexy, baby. My needy girl, you like the way my cock feels deep inside of you?” He questions cockily. He knows you're enjoying it by the way your eyes keep rolling to the back of your head and the way you quiver in his grip.

“Yes, Barzy, yes!” You shout, looking dazedly at your man. His cap sits prettily on his head, his chain bounces with his movements, and the way he glows in sweat makes you dizzy. A new flurry of fire rushes to the tips of your fingers and toes. Your pussy clenches in desire.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he grants your wish, pounding into your boneless body.

Moans spill from his mouth as your warm, slick walls flutter around his cock and your orgasm surges through your body. Your all star looks deep into your eyes as he continues to drill into you until your nonsensical mewls become mixed with his grunts.

“Cum for me, baby,” you rasp.

He pulls out, laying you back on the bed and strokes his cock. His fist moves fast. A red flush blooming on his neck and chest as he feels his balls tighten.

“Yeah, baby. Just like that. My hot ass, all star boyfriend. Just like that, baby. Cum for me,” you spur him on, circling your clit for extra motivation.

“Fuck,” he whimpers as ropes of cum squirt onto your stomach.

You scoop some of his expense with your finger and pop it into your mouth.

“I love you,” he says as you obscenely moan around your digit.

Mat pulls your finger out of your mouth and replaces it with his tongue, making you even more breathless.

“I love you, baby. I’m so proud of you,” you press a chaste kiss to his lips and chest. One hand rests on his back while your other rests on the back of his neck, fiddling with the hair hidden underneath his hat. Your legs tighten around his hips to keep him close.

“Never leave my side,” he requests, tracing the pendant of your necklace.

“Never,” you assure him, combing your fingers through his hair as he cuddles into you, head resting on your chest and a hand placed on your stomach.

There’s nothing that can be compared to this feeling.

a/n: This was written fairly quickly so sorry if it’s all over the place. Enjoy!!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

[luvssworld]

𝐂𝐨-𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬|Toji fushiguro

⇢MDNI!

⇢CW:public sex,m! Receiving oral.Unprotected sex,consensual hardcore. Missionary,overstimulation ,edging,creampies.choking,degrading,cowgirl,fingering,masturbating.

⇢synopsis:your coworker Toji takes you to the back and fucks you crazy.

You had been working at this company for about six months when you met him.Toji Fushiguro one of the more powerful men in the company.

You couldn’t stand him the way he degraded his employees or the way he thought he was above everyone it pissed you off greatly,you couldn’t stand him—for some reason you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

You always did what you were supposed to you were like a model employee but your coworker Toji always found something wrong with what you did.

Work was pretty boring as you typed away on your computer however you found yourself thinking about him during work—you felt your underwear begin to get as you thought of him.

“Damn it.”

You said as began to slip your fingers under your skirt as you rubbed your went cunt—a couple moans had came out your mouth as you gripped your desk.

“Mmph-”

Damn it you had moaned to loud as you covered your mouth looking around hoping nobody had heard you.

You had snapped out of it as you heard a cold masculine voice call your name.

“come see me immediately in the storage room to the right.”

Toji said in a demanding tone of voice—you pulled your underwear up as you dusted yourself off and began to walk to the storage room,some co-workers were whispering.

“I need a word with you.”

Toji said coldly as he pulled you into the storage room—the air was cold making your nipples harden

“Yes what was it you-“

Before you could finish that sentence Toji’s lips were against yours sending shockwaves through your body he forces his tongue into your mouth while his hands moved aimlessly down your body

Before you knew it he had placed you down on the floor of the storage room and began undoing your shirt and bra—once they were off he squeezed your nipples causing you to whimper a bit.

“Mmph..”

He had pulled your skirt down to your ankles looking at your soaked underwear.

“your slutty pussy wet for me already hm?”

He said as his fingers traced the wet folds through your underwear,you squirmed a bit trying to keep composer as he circled around your puffy clit

“Hm..want me to fuck you like the little slut you are?”

He had said while lowering your underwear down to your ankles without a moment to rest he pushed two of his fingers into you. He moved quickly while groping your boob in the other hand you moved your hips aimlessly trying to match the rhythm off his fingers.

You felt like you were on the edge of climaxing when he pulled his fingers out of you. You had looked around for signs of why he possibly could’ve stoppped but he just looked at you and laughed.

“I want you to beg for it like a good girl.”

He said without a hint of joking in his voice,you felt a knot in between your thighs begging for release as you began to beg while kissing him.

“Please Toji..”

You whimpered.

“Please what.?”

“Please..”

“I said please what.”

“Please fuck me..”

You whimpered for him begging him to soothe the ache from between your legs; tears had even began to come out.

“If that’s what you wish.”

Without a second a thought he grabbed her pulling her up to her feet and pressed her against the wall—he unzipped his pants revealing his 5 inch cock.

He rammed his cock into your cunt while pulling your hair thrusting hardly as he whispered into your ear.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day.”

He whispered while thrusting into you with no mercy—you felt like he was stretching you out as you moaned and whined. He was touching your G-spot multiple times as you as you whined and moan for more.

“You’re such a little whore,making all this noise for me.”

He thrusted into you once more each thrust more powerful while yanking your hair. He thrusted into you shooting his warm thick seed up into you he had continued thrusting to you as the waves of your orgasam went over you not giving a moment to stop.

“Toji Mmph-..”

You said before he threw you to the floor as you were still numb you made a bit of a whimper as he smirked at you as you begged for more.

“You look like such a pathetic whore,so needy for me.”

He said as he laid down on the floor.You crawled over to him looking at him for permission,once you got that sign of approval you positioned yourself and slowly went down on his cock as you moaned.

“So fucking big..”

You moaned as you began bouncing up and down while Toji lazily held your hips as you fucked yourself up and down on his huge cock.

“Look at yourself you whore.”

He said to you as you leaned a bit now moving your hips back and forth on him. Your moans were the only thing filling the storage room as you pushed yourself one last time you had came on his cock.

“Look who couldn’t hold back..”

Toji smirked as he looked at you. You looked a mess your hair which had been neat a few hours ago and your makeup was smudged and you were sweatier then ever.

As you got up Toji looked at you with greedy look—he wasn’t satisfied with the previous encounters he wanted more. As he got up he looked at you while licking his lips.

“Where are you going slut who said you were done ?”

“Toji what do you mean?”

You said raising your eyebrow. Before you knew it Toji had grabbed your head pushing it down towards his cock—you immediately caught on and got on your knees as you opened your mouh.

He rammed his cock into your mouth as you began to suck it while bobbing your head up and down. He had gripped your hair.

“Who knew that loud mouth of yours was good for other things too.”

He smirked as you kept going his breathing got a bit heavier as you slobbered all over his cock he had pushed it deeper into you mouth as sped up.

He was on the brink of climax as he grinned your hair tighter as shot his seed filling your mouth as he pulled his cock out you smiled as you swallowed his semen.

“Good girl.”

He said as he stood up and put his pants back on while you got dressed as well you two kissed one last time as he smacked your ass and you both left the storage room not realizing you had been gone for two hours.

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen #x reader

[ladylovegorl]

Big Tease ( Vox x fem!reader Smut

Warnings: Smut, teasing,blowjob, rough sex, dom!vox, name calling, aftercare

Requests are open!

A/N: 2nd write! Thank you all for the support on the last write I did this is my first smut and if you have any requests or tips please let me know - bri

Vox believed that this wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for velvet, she just had to have you model for her that day just to get under his skin.

"Vox I need (reader) to model for me just look at her she's got the body the hair the eyes everything you could need!"

So she dressed you up in that little short skirt and tight top that looked like a belt. She did your hair up in to 2 ponytails and heels then pushed you on to the runway.

You immediately caught everyone's eye the cameras flashing and people gawking at you as you moved your hips left to right.

You blew him a kiss and then bent over just a little to give him a peek at the blue and red thong that you had put on.

His signature colors.

Oh you where going to pay for that Tonight...

------

"Vox honey I'm home I hope you enjoyed my show I-"

(reader) looked up from her phone to find Vox not there not in his chair not in his bed nor the couch

"Weird"

She sets her purse down and slips into her night wear before going into the bathroom. When she comes out she finds Vox standing at his desk.

"Oh Vox darling where have you been I wanted to ask you about my show how did you like it? Did I do goo-"

Before she could finish Vox turns to her and picks her up bridal style and drops her on their bed

"So Honey did you enjoy yourself today? Teasing me..."

He starts to kiss her neck

"I'm not s-sure what your talking about Vox I didn't try to tease you"

"Oh you knew exactly what you where fucking doing and wearing my colors to? Your going to fucking take my punishment like the good little slut you are got it?'

He looked down at her with full eyes

"y-yes"

"good girl~ now-"

He grabs her wrist and pulls her to her knees

"Suck"

She opened his dress pants and pulled down his underwear to reveal his cock already hard and dripping precum.

She takes him in her hands and opens her mouth to lick the tip.

He grabs a patch full of her hair and shoves her mouth down his cock.

"where you not fucking listening? I said suck"

She starts to bob her head up and down his grip not letting up

"f-fuck...."

He thrusts up close to coming into her mouth making her gag. He pulls her off and sits her back on the bed

"Strip or I'll do it for you."

She starts to strip but as she goes to take off her thong

"Keep those on..."

"yes sir"

He picks her up puts her back farther on the bed

"head down ass up slut"

She nods and does as told

"good girl..."

Then she feels it the stretch as he thrusts his cock right into her. She lets out a strangled moan.

"V-vox!"

He starts to move in and out of her setting a fast pace.

"Fucking take it T-this is what you get for teasing me you little slut."

She then feels that familiar knot inside her core and she can tell he feels it to by the sudden change of pase.

"F-fuck Vox! I'm g-going t-"

"are you close baby? F-fuck..."

"Y-yess!"

His thrusts start to become sloppy as he starts to near his end as well.

"Cum (reader) fucking cum"

Then she feels it the knot snapping. Cumming on his cock

"F-fuck baby I'm close"

He says as he starts to glitch

"Cum Vox for me.." she says In that soft tone that he loves

"F-Fuck!" He says as he pulls out and cums onto her stomach

"are you okay darling?"

Vox asks soon after

"yes vox I'm quite fine"

He soon cleans her up and lays her into bed quickly climbing in soon after.

"I love you vox" (reader) says as she starts to drift off to sleep

"I Iove you to" he says falling asleep soon after her.

-----

Thank you for reading this is my first smut post as stated above sorry if it's quick I've had a lot of school work I've missed from not going and have had to catch up!

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader smut #hazbin #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #the vees #velvet hazbin hotel

[khristie16]

Two Options, One Chance

you are a model that is well introduced to your favorite guys, but how well it goes for you trying to keep both of them?

— based on these requests warnings: 18+, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, bdsm, penetration, fingering, choking, some anon called it rape fic so rape fantasy, no proofread

You've never been the type of girl who could choose only one man if you wanted both of them. Which is exactly what happened to you in the last two months. You are quite popular in a celebrity world because you make photoshoot for bikini and underwear. You have made some connections and once you met two men on a New Year's party. Charles and Carlos. It took like ten minutes to get it on with Carlos right before the countdown on the new year's coming. After few days you received a text message from unknown number. As time passed by you discovered it was Charles who wrote you. He did not want to tell you how he got your number and after some flirtatious texts you met up and hook up together.

For some time you felt ashamed of yourself for being this torn between two guys, but you successfully let it go and stayed in your confidence. This situation going on went well till one day where you started thinking that perhaps it wasn't the best choice to make colliding between two possessive guys.

There was another party of one our mutual friends with Carlos. You attended together as something like a pair even though you have never spoke with him how exclusive you two are. And given the fact you are hooking up with Charles at the same time meant you are the last to talk about exclusivity. You are not used to drinking alcohol that much so it took you few sips of wine and you danced on top of the table on the music. You liked to wear dresses and the higher you stand the easier for others to see what color of your panties you're wearing. Carlos didn't like the looks male relatives had for you and his blood started boiling. He stayed still literally for two minutes until he tossed you from the table grabbing your arm and leading you toward the exit where he called the cab to go home. You shouted at him why he is acting like this towards you but in vain.

"Shut up or you will make it worse"

You didn't know what was going on and you closed your eyes for just one minute. The next one you are lying on your stomach feeling tense wrists. As you struggle with your clear sight you feel someone presence behind you. As you finally accomodated to the light you saw handcuffs literally so tight to your skin you were afraid to move now in case you could really hurt yourself.

"Carlos…"

You started to be worried because this has never happened between the two of you. It was always rough but not like this. As you started crying resulting in the unknown fact about what was going on a harsh slap landed on your ass making you writhe on your stomach and scream in pain. Carlos was fuming and his own exhales through nose were the only thing you could concentrate on instead of the pain.

"A fucking slut"

You moved your legs up and down like a little child trying to escape the cage from this man but he held you so steady you wouldn't move an inch even if you wanted to.

"You probably fucking forgot who is your master"

Your eyes almost fell out and you screamed even more trying to escape him. He slapped you more and more you swore you wouldn't be able to sit down from the lasting pain. When you thought you're gonna pass out he sticked his dick to your hole making you cry and moan at the same time. You hated Carlos at this same second and even more the second you came on his dick.

The next morning waking up in his bed you went to the bathroom trying to not wake him up and as you took a look in the mirror you gasped. You don't even remember Carlos choking you but the fingers printed around your neck was enough to run away from his flat back to your home. You thought blocking his number immediately and when you opened the phone you saw sixteen unread messages from Charles. The last one made you scared.

I am going to your place now

As you panicked and ran towards the door to lock it there was a knock on the door. You froze on the spot and awaited what will come next. You hoped he will disappear on his own when you won't open them for him but he talked to you through the closed doors.

"I know you're there."

You didn't wanna believe him. First he could not see you like this in this state because he is not supposed to know you are seeing someone else. Second you were starting to be scared of Charles again. Yet you acknowledged that these guys probably have grown some obsession over you which Charles immediately supported.

"I have your GPS on my phone."

You cursed and thought of jumping from your window. Too high. You ran to put up a roll neck to cover the evidence from your past night. Charles grew impatient as he started punching the doors.

"Stop making noise!"

You saw him furious in front of you and his eyes immediately went to your neck. When his eyes met up with yours again he stepped closer to you and grabbed you by your hair.

"I missed you"

He attacked your lips and took everything you got left for him. You moaned and whimpered at the same time from such intrusion. You were enough overstimulated and you didn't know how much longer you could go like this.

When he tossed you on the bed, he grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt. You didn't even get the chance to catch a breath and you were already naked under him.

"What is this?"

You started begging him to stop whatever he was doing but he held you even more by crushing your waist. He slapped your left breast and you yelped in pain.

"You are fucking mine from now one"

He held you by the neck the second words left his lips and pressed firm around. You questioned what he is doing and as if he read your mind

"Whoever this was is gone, this neck is MINE"

You almost passed out and tears ran freely down your cheeks you weren't even aware of. He kissed your tears and filled you with his fingers. Your natural response was to get away from his as much as possible and as fast as possible. But he held you in his possession now and that is quite literal.

"Stop please"

You couldn't go with the overstimulation but Charles did not care. He smiled at you with psychopathic eyes and whispered to your ear.

"I'm gonna print myself everywhere, no matter how you feel about it."

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

[charmerchannie]

Wednesday: Jeongin

Head is spinnin' masterlist

Jeongin x fem!reader

Warnings: oral sex (m. receiving)

Intro: You often help the students at your art school by modeling for their projects. But your services aren't free. You always get something in return.

You completely forgot you told Jeongin you would help him with his film project. He'd asked you two weeks ago when the project was assigned, but he procrastinated, as usual, and after he'd finally set up a time with you, you totally forgot.

It wasn't a big deal though because the plan was to meet up at your place. You're at home, spending your Wednesday afternoon cleaning and finally doing your laundry. You dance around to the music blasting around your apartment while you swiffer the floor wearing nothing but an old t-shirt and plain white cotton panties. It's not efficient, but hey, at least you're having fun.

Jeongin arrives at your apartment and knocks on the door, but you can't hear him over the music and you screaming the lyrics to Mr. Brightside into the handle of your swiffer like it's a microphone stand and you're back in the year 2005. He figures you can't hear based on how much he can hear. He decides he'll try the handle, but not before he gets his camera ready, because he knows just how much of a dork you really are and how frequently you do embarrassing things. He finds your randomness as charming as you find his weirdness, and that's really the foundation of your friendship. He turns on the camera and turns the handle, letting himself into your apartment.

You're screaming the words to the song with so much passion that your eyes are closed, and he gets at least ten seconds of hilarious footage of you playing Rockstar in your undies before you even notice him. You go back to cleaning the floor when the song ends, and you only hear him chuckle in the silence between tracks.

"What the–?" You say, looking up to see him pointing his camera at you. "Shit!" You yell, scrambling to get your phone and turn off the music. "Fuck!" you mutter as you trip over your own feet.

Jeongin's in stitches, unable to hold the camera steady, but he's still recording.

"Haha. Very funny. Did you enjoy the show?" You ask, turning back to him, one hand on the green handle still and the other outstretched to your stage.

"Yeah, everyone else will, too," he grins.

"Nuh uh. Delete it," you order, pointing your finger at his camera.

He comes closer to you, panning from your bare feet up your legs, over your thin t-shirt, and up to your angry face.

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm asking nicely," you try to smile like you're someone who's sweet and cute.

"Mmm?" He turns the camera side to side as if shaking his head.

"Fine, then I won't help you with your project," you pout.

"Fine. I'll go find someone else," he shrugs.

"Ugh! What's it gonna take?" You'll do anything to delete that video.

He hums as he thinks. “You could let me feel that pretty mouth of yours," he suggests.

"Seriously?" You arch an eyebrow. You have had exactly one sexual encounter with Jeongin before, and it was good, but not something you thought he was interested in repeating. But it was just a blow job, which was worth not having people see you singing horribly in your very unsexy underwear.

Jeongin nods, but he still hasn't stopped recording.

"Deal. But you have to delete the video first," you tell him.

"I only take payment up front," he says.

You put down the swiffer and take a step toward him. With one hand, you find the record button while the other reaches for the bulge in Jeongin's pants.

"C'mon, buddy, you know I'm good for it," you say low and sultry as your palm presses over him, feeling him stiffen beneath it.

He pulls in a jagged breath and hands the camera over to you. He lets you delete the video while he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. His jeans and his boxers fall to the floor, and he shuffles them off his feet. Then he leans his bare ass against the back of your couch and strokes himself while he waits for you. You delete the video and double-check the album to make sure it's completely gone, then you place the camera on the kitchen counter, away from him, so he can't get any ideas about filming you during the act.

"Well, you're just ready to go, aren't you?" You tease, bitchiness being the regular way you two communicate.

"It's lucky for me you're so embarrassing because I've been super horny all day," he tells you, as if you can't see his unreasonably long cock already fully hard in front of you.

"Let's get this over with so we can get to work," you say as you sink to your knees.

He lets go of himself so you can take over and grips the back of the couch. He's moaning immediately at your firm touch as you glide over his considerable length. You add your other hand to work his shaft while you place kitten licks underneath him and lap up the drop of pre-cum slipping out of his tip. He shivers when you look up into his eyes. His mouth hangs open as his eyes darken and slide over your face, down to your chest.

"Take off your shirt," he commands before you get any further, and you do it without even thinking. Then you're back on him, taking just his tip into your mouth and sucking off slowly. "Fuu-u-uuuuck," he shudders at the slow sensation.

You take him in again and run your tongue over all the veins and ridges of his head and his shaft as you slowly take in more and more of him. There's so much of him, though, and you're still using your hand to pump the parts you can't reach without choking yourself. As you work your way closer to his base, he takes his shirt off, too, so he can see himself disappearing into you more easily.

"Shit, Y/n. Your tongue is so good," he breathes as you drag it over his skin while you bob up and down on him.

Eventually your jaw and throat relax, and you can get almost all of him into your mouth.

"Let me see that pretty face," he says as he gathers your hair back in his hands.

"Can I fuck your pretty face, babe?" He asks sweetly, and you hum around him in agreement.

He pushes himself off the back of the couch and begins to thrust himself into your mouth, forcing himself into your throat. It hurts at first, but you start to relax. He's still holding onto your head by your hair as he hits the back of your throat and tears come down your cheeks as you choke on him. His grunts mingle with the lewd, wet sounds coming from your mouth as you take him in over and over again.

"Fuck, Y/n," he moans. "Can I come on your face?"

You respond by hollowing your cheeks and giving him one good suck all the way up his shaft till you pop off. He strokes his dick fast and shoots thick warm ropes of cum over your mouth, cheeks, and even your eye.

"Shit. Sorry, dude," he says breathily, his body still shaking from his orgasm. He's pleasantly surprised to hear your laughter.

"Well, that's a first," you laugh loudly, feeling around for your shirt on the floor beside you so you can wipe his seed off your eyelid.

"What?"

"I've never had someone call me 'dude' right after painting my face with semen," you say oh so delicately.

"Sorry," he says again.

"It's okay, dude," you smile as you stand and go to the bathroom to wash your face while he dresses himself.

You come back a minute later, still wearing nothing but your underwear since you just used your shirt as a cum rag. You walk over to the dryer and pull all your clothes out, telling him to follow you to your bedroom where you throw your clean clothes on the bed and tell him to pick out something for you to wear for his film. You go back to the bathroom and brush your teeth.

When you're back again, he's picked out a pretty flower patterned dress and a light sweater. He watches you in a strangely disinterested way as you dress yourself and brush your hair.

"Ready?" You ask when you are. He nods and you go back to the kitchen to give him his camera.

"Hey, you're okay, right? I didn't hurt you?" He asks, looking down at you and then his camera in his hands.

"Jeongin, you're so sweet." You shake your head. "I'm fine. C'mon, we are losing daylight."

Main masterlist

@rylea08

#stray kids smut #stray kids #skz smut #skz #jeongin smut #stray kids x reader #jeongin x reader #jeongin

[deangirlsstuff67]

Death Confessions

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, soft Dean, language, mentions of smut, mentions of death

Summary: the boys and you are on a hunt only things don't go according to plan...

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

You hate witches. Can't stand the miserable pricks.

Tonight, you and the boys had finally tracked down the local witch in town. Or should you say witches. Plural. And oh yeah, ex lovers as well.

The pair had decided to wage an all out war on one another and didn't seem to care that innocent people were getting hurt in the cross fire.

At some point during the battle, you were struck with a spell. You didn't think anything of it because nothing happened. The boys killed the pair while you were recovering from the blow and you got the hell out of town.

It's been 3 hours into your drive and you aren't feeling so hot anymore.

What the fuck did they do to you.

You're shivering but hot to the touch. Your stomach is in knots. And every time the oldest Winchester looks at you in the rear view mirror, you feel your underwear dampen.

Sam's asleep in the front seat and Dean is humming along with ACDC as he drives you all back to the bunker.

You don't want to panic anyone so you decide to wait it out. Rowena and Crowley are there currently and you're sure she will know what to do.

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

Another 3 hours and the impala is pulling into the underground garage the bunker has. You've managed to pretend as if your sleeping to keep the boys from worrying.

Sam turns around to wake you when he notices somethings wrong.

Very wrong.

You're covered in a thin layer of sweat. You're burning hot to touch. Your body is shaking uncontrollably, and you can barely keep your eyes open.

"Dean, something is wrong with y/n." Sam yells at his brother, who is unloading your crap from the trunk.

Dean comes running around to your door and opens it, almost ripping it off its hinges. Seeing you in this state makes his blood boil with concern and a protectivness. Reaching in he gentle cradles you to his chest and with Sam's help gets you into the bunker.

Dean's gruff voice breaks through the fog in your mind. His strong arms feel like bliss as he hold you close. His aftershave surrounds you, making your mouth water. A small moan slips from your lips as you feel your walls clench around nothing.

"Sammy go get Rowena. Tell her y/n was hit by one of the witches. I'm taking her to my room."

You vaguely feel him place you in his bed and cover you in his blankets. His scent is all around you and it's clouding your mind with nasty thoughts about the green eyed hunter.

You've always had a crush on Dean. He's charming, built like a damn model, and treats you as if you're the most precious thing on this earth.

Sadly, the womanizing Winchester has never looked at you more than a best friend. You hang, watch movies together, train once in a while, and he cooks you amazing meals. Nothing more than friends, and you're okay with that.

Better than nothing.

Whatever they hit you with is bringing out your desire for Dean. The same desire you buried deep down and try to avoid at all costs.

Another moan slips out as you feel slick running down your thigh.

Fuck this is embarrassing.

Just then, Sam returns with Rowena in tow. Thank God. Please make it go away. He can't find out like this.

"Oh dear. Sweetie what are you feeling?" Out of all the witches you've developed a soft spot for the red head in front of you. Sure she always has an end game that benefits her, but the woman is strong and resilient. You've got to respect that.

"Cold and uncomfortable." You don't know how else to describe it without completely embarrassing yourself.

Rowena exams you. You see when she clues in. The knowing smirk on her face.

"Well the good news is she will be fine. However," she looks over at the boys then, "someone will have to stay with her tonight and help her work it out of her system."

Dean and Sam share a confused look before Sam speaks up, "what?"

"It's simple. For whatever reason the witch cast a fuck or die spell. I'm sure y/n here wasn't their target but either way she needs to fuck it from her system or she will die in 24 hours."

Your eyes go wide as you listen, "I'm sorry, what?!?"

"It's the only way Dear."

"No. There has to be something else you can do Rowena. Anything else." You were too busy freaking out to catch the look of disappointment the crossed Dean's face. However, Sam wasn't. Even though the oldest Winchester never admitted it out loud, Sam knew how his brother felt about you.

"Y/N it's okay. Dean can stay with you and help you any way you allow." The younger brother said before he motioned for Rowena to follow him out of Dean's room. Leaving you and the green eyed hunter alone.

--------------‐-------------------------------------------------------

"Y/N let me help you." At this point the spell has gotten so bad you won't allow Dean to touch you. Which is of course frustrating the living hell out of him.

"No, Dean its okay."

"The fuck it is. You're dying and I can help. Why won't you let me?"

"It's too much to ask from you. We're friends Dean but even friends have limits."

"If it saves you I'm willing to do anything!" He's temper has taken over. Not understanding why you won't let him save you.

What the hell, you're dying anyway.

"Are you serious Dean!" You're outburst shocks him. He goes to speak but you cut him off.

"No Winchester, shut up and listen. For three years I've watched you take home girl after girl. For three years I've sat at that table or in your Baby and listened as you told us everything you did with them the night before. Not once complaining. Not once telling you how jealous I fucking was. I'm not your type and I get it. But don't think for one minute I will throw away the closet thing I'll ever have with you just to save my life." You point your finger in his direction as you continue.

"I fucking love you dumbass. I've been waiting, hoping you'd see me more as what we are. Hoping you'd get your head out of your ass and see that I'm the perfect girl for you. I'm a freaking hunter. I know the life and the risks. But no, instead you waltz every bimbo you can in front of me like some prized fucking pig."

Before you can continue chewing him a new asshole Dean pounces on you. Strong finger tangle in your hair and his soft lips dominate yours. The surprise subsides and you begin to kiss him back.

"You done yelling at me sweetheart? Cause I got something to say. I've loved your snarky ass since the moment you told me to blow you three years ago when we crossed paths on the vampire hunt. I love everything about you and I only ever got with those women because I knew you could do better than me. I'm not worth the pain y/n, but God dammit if you feel the same than why not try. "

He pushes his large erection into your wet core. You can't help but moan at the feeling. Dean smirks down at you.

"Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to fuck you good and hard for as long as we need to so we can save your life. Then I'm going to make you breakfast before I spend the day worshiping this beauty body how I should. You okay with that princess?"

"Don't call me princess."

"Shut up and kiss me woman."

And kiss you did. Every part of your body as he did exactly as he promised. Fucking you in every position. When he's big, fat cock needed a break he was making you cum with his tongue or fingers. Over and over again until your body began to go back to normal and fatigue set in.

When you woke in his warm, safe arms you found Dean staring at you. You've never seen his eyes shine so bright.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah I am. Thank you." You lean up and kiss him.

"Let's get you some food." He jumps out of bed and walks to his dresser, finding you one of his shirts. You through it on before you walk out of his room hand in hand.

Sam is already sitting at the table when you walk in together. He looks up from his tablet and just smiles.

"Shut up Sammy." Dean barks as he swats your ass and begins to get the ingredients for breakfast.

"I'm just happy Dean. You got your girl and we didn't lose y/n."

Dean looks over at you and smiles. Fuck you love that man.

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

Taglist:

@syrma-sensei @yvonneeeee @nancymcl @foxyjwls007 @lessons-of-red @senjoritanana @leigh70 @tristanrosspada-ackles @maggiegirl17 @neii3n

#jensen ackles #dean girl #dean winchester #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean x you #deanwinchtser #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester smut

[youfckinyapper]

Sauna

Don’t like don’t read.

Summary: Jake, johnnie, Tara, sam, colby, Chris, Matt, nick. All go to a public pool and they find out it’s only them there and Johnnie and y/n go into the sauna alone.

Paring: fem!reader x shy!friends!johnnie.

Warnings: use of y/n, cursing, smut, P in v,(let’s pretend reader is on the pill.), jerking off, fingering, yelling, etc (can’t think of them all.)

A/N: the pool is indoor btw😭 I’m also very scared cuz this is my first story shit. Also I haven’t read it so idk if there’s any mistakes.🖤

————————————————————

Y/ns pov.

Me, Johnnie, Jake, Tara, sam, colby, Matt, Chris, and nick all suggest to go to a pool because they haven’t been swimming a quite awhile. “Hey, you guys. We should go swimming.” Tara says. “Yeah we should. I haven’t been swimming in awhile.” Jake answers. Everyone nods their heads wanting to go to a swimming pool.

Tara goes and get ready while searching for a bathing suit along with searching the web for an open swimming pool considering it’s 6:30 pm. Me and Johnnie always sleep over with each other, we’re basically a married couple but we just don’t like… kiss or have sex.. I’ve thought about it before and I’m sure Johnnie has too.

Anyway, I literally share a room with Johnnie so I follow him to his room since I have a bunch of shit in there like my clothes, underwear, bras, and all that shit. Johnnie closes the door behind us. “I bought new bathing suits not that long ago for a summer. Can I model them for you” I ask Johnnie. Me and Johnnie have always been so comfortable with each other we’ve literally seen each others body’s before…

“Yeah, sure model them for me y/n.” Johnnie answers. Alright more horny sounding voice much. I just put the bathing suit on in front of him because, who cares? I stand in front of Johnnie’s bathroom mirror. “I don’t know Johnnie.. I look too fuckin chubby in this one” I tell him. He comes up from behind and hugs me. “You’re never to cubby y/n.” Johnnie says back. I smile. Johnnie slightly grinds on my ass. I think he might have a hard on.

——————

Johnnie’s pov.

Fuck y/ns body makes me fucking feel something. I’m not a perv or anything, it’s just that she’s just so fucking hot and she doesn’t even know. I start grinding on her ass a bit concerning I have an aching rock in my skinny jeans right now.

I accidentally let out a groan while looking at her in the mirror while she looks at me. “Johnnie…?” Y/n asks. “Fuck. I’m sorry y/n… that was fucking gross.. Jesus I’m so sorry” I answer. “I don’t care Johnnie. Rip this shit off me for all I care.” She replies. I get pulled closer to y/n and she gets on her knees in front of me.

End of Johnnie’s pov

——————————-

Y/ns pov

I get on my knees infront of Johnnie. “Hurry before Tara or someone else comes in.” I say. He look’s like he has a shit load of anxiety but shit… I do too… I’ve never had someone’s fucking dick in my mouth… not even down there… I’m still a virgin and he doesn’t even know. He stands in front of me and zips his skinny jeans down. I kitty lick his tip and he groans softly but quietly. I start taking him in my mouth fully till the door opens. It’s nick… fuck sakes. “WHOA!” He yells then slams the door shut. “Fuck shit fuck.” Johnnie starts panicking. “It’s fine Johnnie just pull your pants up and act like nothing happened, you hear me?”

“mhm” he hums. We get our bags and start to get into Tara’s little pink car with only.. 5 fucking seats. Jesus.. “come here my Matty bo bo bear.” Chris says with a smile. Matt gets on Chris’s lap which means I have to sit on Johnnie’s. Johnnie gets in and smiles at me. I smile back and get on his lap and close the door.

While we’re driving I look at nick to see he’s staring at me with a bit of disgust and embarrassment in his eyes. “What the fuck were you guys doing?” Nick mouths to me. “What? Me giving him a bj?” I mouth back. “WHAT!” Jake yells. We all look at him. “YOU GAVE JOHNNIE A BLOW JOB!?” He yells again. oh my god… i look at Jake embarrassed realizing he was reading our lips thru the mirror.

Few minutes later we arrive at the pool and we all check it out and me and Johnnie go to the family bathroom, Cause who gives a fuck? I undress and start putting my bathing suit on. “how did Jake know?” Johnnie breaks the silence. “I was mouthing to nick.” I answer. “oh.” Johnnie responds dryly. We all get into the pool and swim around for a bit till Johnnie asks me, “hey wanna go in the sauna?”

“Sure!” I respond. Me and Johnnie get up from out of the pool and go into the sauna. We sit in the silence for a bit. “can we finish what we were doing?” Johnnie asks. “In here?” I ask. “Please y/n” he begs. I smirk at him begging and go sit in his lap. I kiss him deeply and he grabs my waist and kisses me more deep. More of a meaning kiss. He groans into the kiss. I break the kiss and look into his eyes. “Please y/n” he begs again

I get up off his lap and start going down on my knees and Johnnie looks up and groans once again. I pull his swim shorts down and kiss the tip. “fuck.” He whispers. I take him fully in my mouth fully deep throating him at this point. I look up at him while sucking him off and he looks like he’s holding a moan back. I take my mouth off with a pop and start jerking him off. “make your noises for me.” I tell him. He start whimpering and groaning almost every time I move my hand. “C-close.” He moans out. “Cum on my face handsome.” I tell him.

I’m never the one to take dirty to someone but fuck… Johnnie is fucking hot to not. He starts shooting his hot load all on my face and in my mouth. “fuck y/n” he whispers. He brings my face up to his. We share a long intense kiss. His hands slip down my bottoms and he slides his finger against my clit making me whimper. “Johnnie.” I let out a light sigh. He lays me down against the hot wood in the sauna. we’re sweating like crazy at this point.. he pulls my bottoms down all the way and throws them somewhere.

He lightly licks my clit, grazing his tongue against my wet folds. “fuck your wet.” He mumbles against my clit making shocking waves of pleasure down my body. He starts flicking his tongue and putting a finger in me making my back arch. “Fuck Johnnie!” I moan out. He slaps his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. He pumps his finger in and out of me and I scream out “close!” And he smirks against my folds.

“Cum on my face y/n” he mumbles against my folds again making me cum all on his face and it goes on his chin to his neck. “fuck Johnnie” I whisper. “I want you to know what you taste like.” He comes up and kisses me. I smile into the kiss and he pulls away. “Ride me before we go.” He begs. I smile and get on top of him. I sink down onto his hard dick. “Hmugh fuck!” I moan. I start bouncing up and down and Johnnie holds my waist to help me.

I bounce up and down my tits following along with my bouncing. “oh fuck y/n” Johnnie moans out. I hold onto his shoulders for support. My legs start going numb. I start sucking and biting on Johnnie’s neck making dark purple hickeys that’ll be very noticeable. “Fuck me! I’m close y/n!” Johnnie yells out. “M’ too!” I yell back. I bounce more roughly a couple times till he cums in me and I cum with him. “oh fuck…” he realizes he cummed in me. “It’s fine Johnnie, I’m on the pill.” I tell him. “okay” he replies. We grab our swim shit and put it on and walk out of the sauna.

Me and Johnnie see them all still there and we jump into the cold water and Jake and Tara come up to us. “Fuck me! Im close y/n!” Jake mimics Johnnie and Johnnie goes bright red. “M’ too!” Tara also yells and we both are very red and Jake and Tara are laughing. the car ride home was awkward…

————————————————————

how the fuck do I do this?

#johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert #chris sturniolo #johnnie and jake #jake webber #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #swimming #tara yummy

[x0xomady]

pleasing*

⭒⭒⭒

pt. 1

a snippet before the real stuff comes in the second part!

if you like my writing go check out my book ‘star girl’ on wattpad!

ceo!harry x model!reader ⭒ age gap ⭒ cursing ⭒ smut ⭒ 18+ ⭒

unprotected sex ⭒ degrading ⭒ slightly public ⭒ minors dni ⭒

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i met harry at a fashion show.

it started innocently enough, i was walking for Prada and he was invited to watch. after the show, i was invited to go out for drinks with some of the models, designers, and other important people.

i said yes of course.

at the bar i struck up a conversation with the attractive slightly older man. he was wearing a navy blue suit and the buttons of his shirt were left open on top so i could see a peek of the tattoos adorning his chest.

he introduced himself as harry styles, the owner of the sex toy brand ‘pleasing’.

we had a long conversation, but i couldn’t help but be attracted to him. i always had liked older, more experienced guys, but he was just perfect. so, after an hour of two of conversation and one too many martinis, i invited him to my next show.

he said yes.

and that was where we were now. i had just finished walking for Marc Jacobs, and was in the back getting undressed.

“you looked fucking stunning.” harry bursts into the changing room i told him i’d be in. he was wearing a black suit jacket with no shirt and i was dying over his abs.

“couldn’t stop thinking about you.” he mumbles while kissing me harshly. i had been waiting for this for a week so i kissed back just as hard. his soft lips danced across mine as he grabbed my hips and pushed me against the wall.

“please harry.” i moan out while he kisses my neck hard.

“gonna make you feel so good darling.” he got down on his knees and pulled my pants down with him. “gonna let me taste you?"

i whimper out a ‘yes’ in response.

“such a naughty girl letting me eat this little pussy in public. anyone could walk in and see how desperate you are for my lips.” he pushes my underwear to the side and licks a stripe up my slit.

“fuck harry!” i move my hands to his thick hair and hold on to his curls. this makes him groan in return.

he presses open mouthed kisses on my clit before sucking it harshly. i gasp and pull his hair harder. “yeah darling pull my hair.”

harry pushes two fingers inside me while continuing to suck on my clit. i can feel the pressure in my stomach building as he continues to fuck his fingers in and out of me. “gonna cum!” i gasp out loudly.

my hands push his head even farther in so that i can rub my pussy along his scruffy beard and nose.

“yeah? gonna let everyone know how good i’m making you feel?” he pushes me over the edge by pushing a third finger in and licking across my puffy clit again.

“fuck!” i gasp out and cum on harry's face. he helps me ride out my orgasm by gently licking stripes across my pussy. when he stands up i see his face coated in my juices and i’m instantly turned on again.

“so pretty when you cum.” he moans out while kissing me again. i’m desperate to make him feel good.

“fuck me.” i say looking at harry through my eyelashes.

“whatever you want.” he picks me up and throws me on the couch next to the clothing rack. “gonna fucking ruin this little cunt.” he throws his jacket off quickly and i reach for his pants to pull them down. harry reaches down and grabs my hips to flip me around so i’m on my stomach.

“please” i whimper out while pushing my ass against the bulge in his boxers. “need it so bad."

“yeah?” he groans pulling his cock out of his pants. he’s much larger than i expected to him so i let out a small gasp. “just came and you’re already begging for more.”

he guides the tip to my slit and pushes in quickly. “fuck!” i whimper as his thick cock penetrates me with no warning.

he thrusts into me hard and fast. harry reaches his had around my body and presses his palm into my stomach. “feel me in there? feel me fucking you?” i nod and moan out.

“i asked you a question baby. did i fuck you dumb already?” he continues to thrust hard while holding his hand against my stomach.

“yeah can feel you” i cry out. i could feel my second orgasm approaching quickly. “gonna cum!” i gasp. when harry hears this he laughs and starts going harder.

“c’mon baby cum for me.” he reaches his hand around and starts rubbing tight circles on my puffy clit which makes me cry out and press against him harder.

as i feel the pressure in my stomach expanding, i hear harry gasping while thrusting faster.

“cum with me sweet girl.” i gasp and release as he pushes his final thrust into me.

we both lay on the couch with small smiles on our faces as we catch our breaths.

“i want you to be in my campaign. if you’re interested contact me.” harry says while handing me a small piece of paper with his info on it.

and with that he gives me a kiss on the head and leaves.

#harry styles smut #dom harry styles #smut #one direction #sub!harry

[roosterforme]

The Deployment Diaries Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley talks to Mav, and it helps him see things a little clearer. And you know exactly how to make Bradley feel special on his birthday.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, fuff

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist for the reading order!

The weekend trip to La Jolla had been one of your best ideas ever, if Bradley's opinion counted for anything. He kept thinking about how much fun the arcade had been and how good you looked playing skee-ball in your bathing suit. Plus, you and he had fucked almost nonstop all weekend long, to the point of exhaustion. 

He had woken you up late on Sunday morning and told you it was almost time to check out of the hotel. You'd responded by riding his face until you came and then getting on all fours for him. When you finally checked out of the hotel, looking like two disheveled messes, the woman at the front desk just smirked. 

You had both slept most of the afternoon at home on Sunday, only waking up in time to take Tramp for a nice long walk before dinner. Bradley and Tramp were perhaps a little too similar; the way they both looked forward to family walks was a bit ridiculous. Your laugh in response to he and Tramp both running to get the leash lit Bradley up from the inside.

On Monday afternoon, Bradley got flagged at work to test out the software update that your team had patched for the Super Hornet fleet. He got to take notes and attend a meeting which included you and a bunch of other engineers. 

He was so good about keeping his hands to himself at work. He'd been a model citizen, really. Except for that one time in your office. And that other time in the storage closet in the tower. But that didn't prevent him from needing to adjust himself a bit when you gave a thirty minute presentation to everyone in attendance. 

Bradley was trying his best to pay attention, but there were two problems. First of all, you were way smarter than him when it came to the technical stuff about his aircraft. He was trying his best to follow along, but you lost him a few times when it came to software calculations. 

And second, he knew which bra and underwear set you were wearing under your uniform, because you had gotten dressed right next to him this morning. It was a light pink set that he was particularly fond of. He adjusted himself again. He couldn't wait to get home. 

But that's when the trouble started. When he parked the Bronco in the driveway and walked up the porch steps, you were coming out the door with two huge shopping bags full of stuff. Your hair and makeup were done up and you were wearing a dress and heels. 

"Where are you going, Sweetheart?" he asked, brow scrunched up.

You kissed him hurriedly on his cheek. "I need to go to Oceanside for a few hours. I'll be back in a little bit," you told him, rushing to your car and throwing the bags in the trunk. "You can have leftovers for dinner, or maybe see if Mav is around? Bye, Roo!"

Bradley was still standing on the porch steps as he watched you pull out of the driveway. What the hell was up in Oceanside? And why were you all dressed up?

Bradley found himself bored and lonely after about twenty minutes in the house. He changed and tried to watch a show with Tramp, but he ended up calling Maverick, who was still on base and agreed to swing by with a pizza.

"Where's the missus?" Mav asked when he arrived. "I got the toppings she likes. Assumed she would be here."

Bradley shrugged and made a face. "She ran to Oceanside for some kind of errand or something. I'm not sure." He grabbed two beers from the fridge and opened the pizza box on the island. 

"Everything okay?" Maverick asked, accepting a beer. 

"Yeah, I think so?" Bradley said before taking a bite of pizza, but it was more of a question than an answer. 

Maverick hummed. "I know you said she had an incident with that guy while you were deployed and I was away with Penny. I wish I'd been here, Bradley. I really do."

"Nah, don't say that. You were on vacation! And things have been good since we talked. This past weekend was... it was great, actually," he said, thinking back to pouring champagne all over you and cuddling in bed with you while you giggled. Bradley tossed his half eaten slice of pizza onto his plate. "How do I know if it's too soon to propose?"

Maverick looked at him, completely gobsmacked. "I....well, Bradley, I don't know if you're asking the right person, actually. I've been on and off with Penny for decades."

Bradley ran his fingers through his hair. "But you're serious with Penny now. You have been since Halloween. I just don't know how to do this shit correctly half the time. I never really dated anyone too seriously, I just messed around. And I never intended to fall in love, because it was so distressing to me as a kid, the way my mom was lonely for twelve years. But like how the fuck am I supposed to live like this?" Bradley held his hands up in the air before letting them drop back to his sides. "Part of me is terrified of marrying her and having kids with her, knowing I could burn in one day. Every time I think about that, I convince myself to wait a little longer. But the other part of me, the part that is obsessed with the way she makes me feel.... well, that part thinks we should get married tomorrow."

Maverick studied Bradley, took a sip of beer, and studied him some more. "I wish I could be of more help here, I really do. All I can tell you is that your dad was set on marrying your mom the same day he met her. He said those exact words to me. And they got married after six months together. Six months to the day, actually. And I have no doubt they would still be married now. So no, I don't think it's too soon for you. And if fear is what's holding you back, then you need to decide if you love her enough to trust that she's all in, no matter the outcome."

Bradley felt his eyes stinging. "Fuck. This is so hard, Mav. My mom would have loved her though, I know that much. And I can't run the risk of hesitating and losing her, but that's selfish when she's more likely to lose me. I just wish this was easier."

"Me too," Maverick replied. "It's not fair that Goose isn't here for this conversation. He would have known exactly what to say. But it sounds to me like you're ready, and she is too." Bradley let Maverick pull him in for a quick hug before they returned to the box of pizza. 

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

"Where the fuck is mommy?" Bradley asked Tramp. He kept checking the time on his phone. It was nearing 11 o'clock, and Bradley was getting a little worried. When he had texted to make sure everything was okay, you simply replied with Yep!

He had also been looking up flights from San Diego to Norfolk and eating cold pizza. God, this house was just sad without you in it. Did you feel this way when he was deployed? Shit. If so, he was never going to leave again, because this was awful. 

He channel surfed and fed pizza crust to Tramp, and about twenty minutes later, he finally heard your car in the driveway. 

"She's home!" Bradley and Tramp both ran to the door to greet you. Your hair was a mess now, and you were wearing different clothes than when you left. "Where did you go, Baby Girl? We missed you."

You hugged him around his waist. "I just needed to take care of something. I'm sorry it took so long. Let's get ready for bed." And that's all you would say about it.

Bradley pushed it from his mind. He focused on work during the day and spending time with you at night. When he brought the mail inside on Friday evening, he opened a thick, cream colored envelope with his name on it. He smiled as he took it over to where you were currently making pancakes for dinner in your tight yoga pants and one of his shirts. 

"Feel like buying a fancy dress, Baby Girl?"

"For what?" you asked, turning the music down on your phone. 

Bradley held up the invitation to the ceremony and reception at which he would be promoted to lieutenant commander. "It's in four weeks, and I'm allowed to bring a date. Please don't make me take Tramp."

You laughed. "Tramp would look adorable in a little tuxedo! But I'm going. I'm definitely going! It's going to be fancy as hell! Better than a wedding! You lieutenant commanders and captains and admirals get all the good stuff."

Bradley wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your cheek. "You could just wear your dress whites like me, if you want to."

"No!" you shouted, scandalized. "Absolutely not, Roo! I'm buying something fancy! I can wear my uniform for my own promotion. Maybe I'll go shopping for a dress when I go back to Oceanside tomorrow morning."

Bradley frowned. "Why do you have to go back to Oceanside? I thought we were going to spend the day together."

"I'll be home in the afternoon," you told him, flipping over the pancakes. "We can do whatever you want. And then Sunday is your birthday!"

Bradley let go of you so you could plate the food. "Can I come with you in the morning? I can help you look at dresses."

You frowned. "I'd rather you didn't. I promise I'll be back right after lunchtime."

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

Trying to get out of the house on Saturday morning was made very difficult by Bradley who was actively trying to keep you in bed. "One orgasm isn't enough for my girl. Let me give you another one," he said in his raspy morning voice from where he had his head between your legs. You were still riding out the first one when he looked up at you with hopeful eyes. 

You had told the photographer you would be there at 9:30, but thankfully the photographer was Maria's sister's roommate, and she would probably understand why you were running late if you showed her a photo of your boyfriend without a shirt on.

"Two would be nice," you told him as you tried to catch your breath, and he was immediately grinning and crawling up your body. He was too good at this now. You'd been having sex with him for more than nine months, and he could read you like a book. You wanted him slow and steady right now, and you knew you wouldn't have to tell him that. He would just do it, exactly how you wanted him to. 

And that was how he got orgasm number two to come screaming out of you after twenty minutes of slow fucking and a little dirty talk. 

Bradley looked pretty smug as he strode into the bathroom behind you on your wobbly legs. He kissed your neck while you brushed your teeth, and then you pulled your hair up as neatly as you could. "You definitely made me late," you informed his reflection in the mirror as you put on some lip gloss and mascara.

"Well, since you won't tell me where you're going, I don't feel bad about it. I also gave you a nice hickey right here, so I hope that's not going to be a problem," he said, running one beautiful finger along the side of your neck. 

You turned your face to the side to check out the pink mark he had given you. "Naughty. Don't make me withhold birthday sex."

Bradley's eyes went wide. "You wouldn't."

You just smirked and walked back into the bedroom.

"Sweetheart! I'll be good the rest of the day!"

You ran your fingers along his abs and nodded. "I know you will be."

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

An hour later you were apologizing to the photographer, Flora, as she handed you Bradley's birthday present. You opened the calendar up to January and almost dropped it as you slammed it shut again. 

"Oh, my God. I can't give this to him! I just... oh, my God!"

Flora just laughed softly and gently took the calendar from your hands as you shook your head. "I get that a lot with this kind of photoshoot. But I can guarantee your boyfriend is going to go bananas over this," she promised, tapping the calendar with one finger. "Here, start with September. You've got a good amount of clothing on in that one, and it's taken from behind."

You took a deep breath and looked at the glossy photo of yourself. In it, you were turning back to look over your shoulder. You were wearing a tiny black skirt and black stockings with seams up the backs of your legs. You had on red heels and one of Bradley's white dress shirts, pushed down to reveal your bare shoulders and upper back. 

"Oh, that looks pretty good," you agreed. Then Flora flipped to April, and it was the photo of you wearing cutoff jean shorts with Bradley's aviators. You were covering your breasts with your hands. 

"This one is great, because your smile is so genuine," she told you.

"I was almost laughing in it, because he had no idea I took his sunglasses with me."

Flora flipped through the entire pin-up calendar with you. You saw the photo of you wearing the red bustier and matching thong that Bradley favored. There was also one of you on your knees with your hands on your thighs, pulling up the hem of your white nightie. One of you in your own flight suit had made it in there, and so had one with garters, stocking and lots of lace.

Then there was one of you laying on the bed with your back arched. It looked a lot like the photo you had sent to him that one time you and he were out to dinner with the other aviators. That evening had resulted in back seat Bronco sex, so perhaps you didn't have anything to be scared about. 

The photo for next June was perhaps the most intimate one. Your hair was purposefully messy, and you were completely nude, tangled up in a sheet with your left breast just peaking out. And your golden necklace charms were visible in almost all of the shots.

"Okay, I think you're right. I think he'll like it." Flora just laughed as you added, "You did a great job, honestly. You can barely see the cellulite!"

"Oh stop, I hardly had to do any touch ups. Some of them just needed a little color saturation. I'll tell you what, if your man doesn't lose his mind, come back and I'll give you a refund."

So with that, you took the calendar to your car and went to find a formal gown.

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

As soon as you got home, Bradley was snooping in the garment bag. "What does your dress look like? Are you going to try it on for me?"

"Maybe," you replied with a wink. But you did try it on for him, and he stood in front of you speechless, rubbing his chin.

"Shit," he rasped. 

You looked down at yourself and back up at him. The form fitting, dark blue satin dress was insanely formal for most things, but it seemed perfect for his big day. Plus you figured he would appreciate the slit up your left leg and the low cut front. "Do you like it?"

He nodded his head vigorously. "You look amazing. I can't believe I get to have you there with me." He started reaching for you, but you backed away. 

"This dress is delicate, Bradshaw! Delicate!"

"I can be delicate," he whispered, running his fingers along the enticing fabric as you started to undress. 

You rolled your eyes good naturedly. "I'm saying your birthday weekend starts right now. So what do you want to do for the rest of the day?"

He helped you out of your dress as he told you, "Have sex with my girlfriend, walk our adorable dog to the ice cream place that gives out doggie treats, eat dinner, and have sex with my girlfriend again."

"You're going to give me more orgasms today? Is it your birthday or mine?"

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

Bradley couldn't believe he deserved you in his life. That perfect weekend away with you in La Jolla had been enough for him. More than enough, really. But here you were, on his actual birthday, waking him up with a blowjob. He felt your wet, hot mouth on his length, and he opened his eyes to the most glorious sight. 

"Oh, hey," he rasped, smiling at you as he propped himself up on his elbows. 

You popped him out of your mouth, kissed his tip and said, "Happy birthday, Roo," in your sweet voice before sliding him between your pretty lips again. He watched your tits swaying, just getting harder and harder for you. He was aching in your hands and mouth as you sucked and licked him so well. 

When he was almost there, you opened your mouth wide and set him down on your plush tongue. He watched himself paint your mouth with his cum while you gently squeezed his balls in your soft hand. 

"Shit, sweetheart. You look so pretty like that," he told you, caressing your cheek. He really wanted to take a picture of you with his dick in your mouth and his cum everywhere, but he didn't know how to ask you for that. 

Bradley watched you swallow him down and lick your lips. Then you crawled up his body and kissed him. "I'm going to make you breakfast, birthday boy."

Bradley followed you into the kitchen and watched you put on your I Love Meat apron over your naked body. He stood behind you as you cut up vegetables and cracked eggs into a bowl, squeezing your bare ass and kissing your shoulders.

"This is already the best birthday I have ever had," he mumbled against your skin. He so badly wanted to be selfish. Marry you and be with you forever. The deployments sucked, but if that was the worst thing you had to deal with, you'd both manage. He couldn't control anything beyond that. 

"I love you, Roo," you told him, turning your head to kiss him briefly while you made him an omelet. That was it, he would buy a ticket to Norfolk tomorrow.

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

You took Bradley on a lunchtime hike and picnic that ended at the cliffside beach where you and he had played dogfight football so many months before. You ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and laid out on your beach towel, and Bradley tried to convince you to take a week off this year and take a vacation with him. In theory that sounded great, but work was going so well for you right now, it would be hard to take any time off. 

After baking in the sun for a while, Bradley said, "It's fucking hot out now. Feel like jumping in the water to cool off?" 

"In our clothes?" you asked, but he was already taking his tee shirt off and pulling his shorts down.

"In our underwear, Baby Girl."

You glanced around the beach, which wasn't crowded at all. You bit your lip before unbuttoning your jean shorts and sliding them down over your hips. The smile on your boyfriend's face was instantaneous. You glanced around again before pulling your tank top off and leaving it on the towel. You hoped your blue sports bra and green underwear were providing enough coverage for that old guy walking his dog to refrain from yelling at you.

Bradley pulled you to your feet and you ran into the water with him. "It's cold!" you complained, but he had already scooped you up into his arms. You clung on to the front of him, legs around his waist and arms around his neck. "Oh my God, don't go out any further! It's freezing!" But Bradley walked out until the waves were crashing against your back. "Bradley!"

He just chuckled and kissed you. "We'll get used to it." 

You threaded your fingers through his hair and kissed him back. His hands splayed along your back, keeping you warm against the onslaught of the Pacific Ocean. You thought about how many millions of times you must have kissed him since that first time in this beach parking lot. Thought about everything that had happened since that day. Falling in love, and almost losing him, and Tramp, and Josh, and how much you loved Bradley.

"I love you," you whispered against his mouth as he devoured you. "I love you so much."

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

It took a bit of coaxing, but you finally agreed to let Bradley carry you up the rocks for old time's sake, even though you were wearing perfectly sensible shoes this time. Bradley listened to your laughter as he climbed with you on his back. Your wet underwear had soaked through your clothing, and so had his. You were both a sandy, sweaty mess by the time you got home. 

Wordlessly, you led him to the master bathroom and turned on the shower. Tramp came to investigate what was going on as you peeled Bradley's damp shirt off and let it fall to the floor. The fabric was replaced by your hands and lips on his chest and abs, and Bradley's head tipped back. Your hands were gritty with sand as they worked down to his shorts, and the sensation had him panting for you. Soon he was naked and you were stroking him.

"Baby Girl," he whispered, and you looked up at him expectantly. He kissed you hard, both of his hands in your messy hair, his front pressed to yours. He lived for these moments. Everything with you was so pure, it was almost painful. "You're mine, Baby Girl," he told you, and you moaned. 

Bradley ripped your clothing off, tossing it across the room and scaring Tramp back into the bedroom. You both stumbled into the steamy shower, hands and mouths everywhere. He had you pinned against the tile wall, one hand wrapped around your neck, the other thrusting two fingers into your pussy until you were soaking wet for him. The steam swirled around your bodies, and the little noises you made were echoing inside the glass shower. 

Then he thrust his cock into you, running his thumb up and down along the side of your neck. He could feel your shallow breaths and gasps as he sped up. When you wrapped your leg up around his hip and whispered his name, he was too close to the edge. He pulled out of your pussy and sprayed your belly and hips with his cum before dropping to his knees in front of you. 

"Mmm," you moaned when his mouth met your clit and you started grinding against his face. He worked his tongue, steadily getting you there as his cum mixed with the water from the shower and trailed down your body. You were his birthday present. He wanted the same present every year for the rest of his life. 

You were still leaning against the wall catching your breath when Bradley got the soap and started to wash your body.  You let him do your hair too, because now you were exhausted from all of the day's activities, and you still had to make his dinner. 

A few hours later, you were perched on Bradley's lap eating Marry Me Rooster and listening to some music. "Thank you," he whispered, and it struck you once again that probably nobody ever did anything special, just for him, from the time his mom died until he met you. It made you want to keep doing it and doing it. 

You checked the time on your phone as Bradley happily twirled his second serving of chicken and pasta into his fork. "I hope you're almost ready for dessert," you told him and he just grinned at you. 

"Oh, I know what that means." But then he jumped a bit when someone started pounding on the front door. 

The smile on your face gave you away. "What did you do?" he asked, but you just laughed and told him to go open the front door. 

"Holy shit," Bradley said, as Phoenix thrust a dozen balloons into his hands and made her way inside. She was followed by Fanboy, Payback, Bob, Hangman, Maverick and Penny. Coyote was missing, as he was currently deployed, but everyone else greeted Bradley while you put a pie and a chocolate chip cookie tower on the dining room table. Penny popped a few bottles of champagne, and everyone started eating dessert. 

When you stuck a glittery pink candle into the top cookie and everyone sang happy birthday to him, Bradley pulled you against his side. And when Fanboy told him to make a wish, Bradley grinned at you before blowing the candle out.

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

After everyone finally left, it was pretty late. Tramp was already in his bed, exhausted from all of the attention he got. Bradley had watched Nat feed him four treats in a row, and when he said something about it, she told him, "Mind your own business, birthday boy. This is between me and my god-pup."

So by the time Bradley noticed you shifting nervously around the kitchen, cleaning up after everyone, he had already had an epically wonderful day.

"Leave it, Sweetheart. I'll clean in the morning before work," he told you, gently taking your hands in his. "Now tell me why you're being weird."

You sighed. "I got you a birthday present. It's in my dresser drawer." you said, staring at his chest.

"That was nice of you. Can I have it?"

"Yeah...." you trailed off, heading for the bedroom and rooting around in your drawer. "But I'm really nervous to give this to you, so please be kind." You thrust a wrapped box into his hand and backed away a few steps, chewing on your lip. 

Bradley started to unwrap and open the box, brow furrowed about what could be making you apprehensive. But then he dropped the wrapping paper and box to the floor as he read the front of the calendar in his hands. 

Rooster's Calendar starring Baby Girl

"No fucking way," he whispered, meeting your guarded eyes before flipping it open to January. He almost fell over. "Oh my God," he almost yelled, briefly waking up Tramp. 

There was a high quality photo of you wearing a sheer champagne colored lingerie set, and you were laying on your back with your legs up in the air. You had on your bright red high heels with your ankles crossed and you looked like a fucking dream, your tits practically spilling out of the sheer top.

Bradley's jaw was hanging open as he flipped to February. He didn't know how things could have possibly improved, but somehow they did. You were wearing his favorite color, the red bustier and thong. "Shit, Baby Girl," he whined. His dick was plainly hard in his jeans, and he was gasping for air, but you looked nervous as hell now.

"Do you like it?" you asked softly, eyes wide, chewing on your thumbnail. 

He just stared at you with his mouth open, blinking, trying to formulate words. He glanced down briefly at March to see you in a black string bikini he had no idea you owned. You looked sinfully good, and now Bradley was throbbing. 

"Don't look at that one. You can see my love handles," you told him, reaching for the calendar, but he held it up high, out of your reach. Then he tossed it softly onto the dresser and grabbed you.

"Don't talk about my future wife that way," he growled, baking you up to the bed. "She's perfect." He reached down and yanked your shirt off and then your bra. "That calendar is the fucking hottest thing in the world, and I only saw three months," he groaned, grinding against you. "It's safe to say, yes, I like it."

You moaned as he touched you. "You said you wanted it."

"Yeah, I did. Thank you, Sweetheart," he whispered against your neck, placing kiss after kiss there as he worked his hand down to the front of your shorts. "Best gift ever."

"How are you going to thank me for this wonderful idea?" you asked, running your fingertips along his scarred cheek.

Bradley pushed you down on the bed, and you rolled over onto your belly to make room for him. He eased himself onto the bed and straddled your ass, rubbing his hands down the smooth planes of your naked back, making you arch your spine. You moaned and ground your ass up into his dick and balls. He was picturing your nipples straining against lacy fabric, and he was so hard he thought he might explode. And here you were writhing and moaning under him after a few touches.

"I'm going to thank you like this," he told you, grabbing you by both hips and popping your rear end up into the air. He pulled your jean shorts down your legs and tossed them aside, and he ran his finger over your thong before removing that as well. He kissed along your ass cheeks and listened to you moan as he palmed you with his hands. He eased his face down to your pussy and gave you a nice long lick, collecting your sweetness on his tongue. 

"I love it when you do that," you huffed between groaning and whining his name, face buried in a pillow.

He teased your clit and ran his fingers through your soaking wet slit, pumping them into your pussy a few times until you were thrusting back again. Then he let his fingers trail up a bit further until he was gently caressing your other hole. 

"Oh!" you gasped and froze. 

Bradley placed a soft kiss on your thigh and then one on your lower back. "Is this okay?" he asked, and he stopped moving his hand until he heard you gasp out an answer. 

"Yes, I think so."

Bradley groaned as he let his fingers trail along once more, the moisture from your pussy making everything look slick and even prettier. "Can I lick you here?"

"Okay," you whispered, and Bradley ran his tongue back and forth across your asshole a few times, fisting his cock in his hand. He'd never done this before, and it sounded like you hadn't either. 

"Do you like this, Baby Girl?" he asked before pressing a little harder with his tongue, licking up all of your essence that he had brought there with his fingers. You were wiggling your ass a little bit for him as he placed another kiss there.

"I don't hate it. God, your mustache feels good everywhere. I think it made my pussy even wetter for you, Roo," you gasped, and Bradley was immediately in position, thrusting his dick into your warm pussy. He could feel your walls gripping him almost immediately. Everything felt too good. You turned him on beyond belief. 

And when you were both ready for bed, and you had yourself draped across his body, you whispered, "I love you, birthday boy." 

You yawned as he wrapped his arms around you. "Can I have this same day every year for my birthday? Just like this, me and you?"

"Absolutely, Roo," you muttered, snuggling against him and dozing off to sleep. 

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

Happy birthday, Roo! SO MANY OF YOU ASKED FOR BUTT STUFF, SO HERE IS A BIT OF THAT FOR YOU! Thanks for reading!

PART 17

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[little-annie]

Licorice Ice Cream Pt.2

---

"Licorice Ice Cream right?"

FUCK

Of course, of fucking course Harrington's working today. Of fucking course he's working today when Eddie comes in looking like an absolute rat. Well in his own eyes anyways. Steve probably thinks otherwise but that's neither here nor there because the man's straight and the thought of him being anything but just doesn't even register on Eddie's radar.

"Uhhhh…"

Oh and of fucking course he looks like an absolute dream. Is…is that fucking lip gloss, did Steve Harrington's lips always look so wet. Fuck. And kissable. And…and fuckab- get your shit together Munson.

Is he trying to give Eddie a heart attack?

Holy ice cream slinging gods.

Fuck.

"Ow! Fuck."

There's a swift pinch in Eddie's side and he whips around to find Wayne with a far too sly expression. Like, does he not see Steve in his booty shorts and fucking lip gloss standing no more than a foot away smelling like citrus and cinnamon and looking like a sexy little underwear model with his silky hair and rosy cheeks.

"The boy asked you a question, Ed."

Oh

Shit.

Eddie straightens his back, taking a step away from Wayne and his pinching fingers.

He can be smoothe.

Eddie Munson can be suave.

He's got this.

With feigned confidence Eddie rakes his eyes ever so slowly over Steve's form, indulging in the delicacy before him. The narrow waist, the broad shoulders, those fucking lips. 

He leans forward, going for casual, dropping his eyes before looking up at Steve through his lashes. Be it a coincidence or the fucking gods above, but he swears he's captured Pretty Boys attention.

With a ring clad hand easing it's way onto the countertop between them, Eddie bats his lashes, leaning in as he speaks, "You bet-"

And suddenly there's a wet squeak and a slip and Eddie's nose fucking hurts.

The fuck just happened?

With a grumbled 'Jesus Christ, Ed' to his rear and a snort from behind the counter, Eddie lifts his face from its surface to see beautiful Carmel eyes so dangerously close to his.

"You okay there Munson?"

Oh sweet baby Harrington Jesus 

Eddie tries to regain his hardly existent confidence, leaning into the counter further, dropping his voice, batting his lashes.

Suave.

And not possibly concussed from nose diving into the fucking marble countertop.

He props his probably bruised chin on his palm as he chokes out a quiet, "Never better Sailor."

"Oh shit," Steve huffs, his worried face so close to Eddie's he can see the flecks of gold and green in his eyes, god he's so fucking pretty, "You're bleeding man."

Oh shit.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Eddie's not good with blood.

Like really not good with blood.

You see, the whole town thinks he's this satanic cult leader who sacrifices virgins in his spare time but. Ha. Jokes on them, Eddie would sooner pass the fuck out at the sight of blood and well, the only virgin he knows is himself. 

Though, ha, um Eddie's about .2 seconds from being on his ass when a drop of blood falls to the white countertop next to his elbow.

Then there's a *thud* and dull pain in his knees and fucking everywhere else in his body.

Ow.

The next thing he sees is a blur of blue and Carmel, and there's a tightness around his body. Chilly, but solid. He hums, leaning dazed into whatever it is, taking a deep breath of cinnamon and citrus.

"'S nice," he hums again.

Then everything black.

Ten minutes later Eddie wakes up to a chill and the sight of Steve Harrington on his knees.

Oh Goddamn

Oh Oh ohhh goodman 

Well hello Sailor Steve 

Maybe he's died and gone to heaven.

A chilly, white walled, ice cream filled Heaven where Steve Harrington's dressed as a sexy sailor and waits with pouty pink lips and rosy cheeks on his knees.

Steve snickers, adjusting the ice pack he's holding to Eddie's knee, "Hello to you too Eddie."

Shit did he say that out loud

Steve's a pretty shade of pink when he speaks again, "Yeah ya did,-" There's a pause, the beautiful man pushing his hair out of his face as he continues, "You doing alright man?"

Eddie thinks about that, not entirely sure if he's truly alive or if he's lying with his skull cracked open in the middle of Scoops Ahoy. But, either way, he has Steve Harrington on his knees which is a site he never thought he'd see again after that fateful day at Jeff's locker and well, he thinks he's still kicking. Because who's he kidding, he's not making it into heaven.

"Y-yeah," Eddie chokes out, body absolutely being engulfed in a roar of heat when he clues into the fact that Steve's not only on his knees but has a large, strong hand wrapped around the back of Eddie bare calf, holding his leg out while keeping the ice pack in place with the other. 

"Can you move your leg?"

"Mhm" Eddie hums, noncommittally moving his leg, choking down a wince when there's a pinch in his knee

"Ya went down pretty hard dude, anything else sore?"

His pride maybe 

Eddie shakes his head and watches as Steve brings himself to standing, crowding into Eddie's space without thought. Fuck. He's nearly standing between Eddie's thighs. Sweet Jesus. 

He's…. He's not gonna kiss him is he? Fuck it feels like he's going to. 

Eddie feels like he's vibrating out of his skin and damn near feels like he could pass out again when Steve takes his chin in hand. 

If Eddie's sporting a chub at this little amount of contact that is his information and his information ONLY! no one else needs to know that. We've already established he's a virgin and we've already established the whole Steve Harrington of it all. So sue him. He's a horny teenage boy and an absolute God of a man has his hands on him.

And no he doesn't moan at the sweet sting of pain when a cool, wet washcloth brushes under his nose.

He doesn't.

He chokes that down because that'd be embarrassing.

If that did happen he'd probably die of embarrassment and not his heart that's about to beat out of his chest as he so blatantly stares at Steve's lips. The man's just so close it's hard not to and Eddie swears he can smell a tinge of Strawberry in the air and can't help but imagine how it'd taste on his tongue.

Subconsciously he licks his lips and continues to stare.

"Ed."

Eddie's head whips to the right to find Wayne.

The fucker looks smug as all hell.

If he didn't make the executive decision to come to the mall to 'beat the heat,' then Eddie wouldn't be in this goddamn situation. 

Which granted he's not totally mad that he's sitting on a chair with a lap nearly full of Steve Harrington but still. He did bounce his fucking face off of a marble countertop and still tried to put the moves on a straight man with most likely blood in his teeth or dripping from his nose.

Eddie shoots Wayne absolute daggers, hoping to incinerate the man with his stare before turning back to find Steve staring at him but not at him but…his lips. No. No Steve Harrington wouldn't stare at his lips. Would he? No…

Unless ….

No.

No Eddie, don't get your hopes up.

Eddie licks what he can only assume is blood or honesty, probably drool from his lip only to witness Steve bite his own and shiver before forcing his eyes away. 

Huh.

It's quiet for a moment and Eddie's sure he can fucking hear Wayne smiling to himself on the other side of the room. 

Then there's pressure on his thigh, just above his knee and a quick squeeze and Holy fuck Steve Harrington's hand is on Eddie's leg.

He sucks in a breath, trying to contain himself, looking at the hand in question then back at Wayne like he could or would possibly help him in this situation. 

The old fucker just smiles, raising a mocking brow.

Then Steve pulls him out of his trance, that silky voice, smooth like honey, humming into the air between them, "You're all cleaned up, I think you're good to go."

Eddie just stares, his eyes locked onto Steve's and his entire mind focused on the hand still on his leg.

He looks down at the hand once again, Steve seemingly realising his actions as he pulls back like he's been burned, his cheeks flaming red, whispering apologies.

While Eddie's still entranced by all that is now a blushing Steve Harrington, Wayne finally intervenes, grabbing him by the elbow, pulling him from his seat and back to the store front. Steve, red in the cheeks follows behind as Wayne offers his thanks.

Eddie's not catatonic but like maybe on the verge and rapidly hurtling towards an absolute melt down as the places Steve once laid his hands still burns with something hot and fiery on his skin.

"Get your shit together Ed, the boy's bringing you a fuckin' ice cream." Wayne grumbles into Eddie's ear as they approach the shop's exit.

And yep. There's Steve, cheeks absolutely crimson as he looks back and glares at the young woman working the till, hissing something at her until he approaches Eddie with a bashful smile and a set of puppy dog eyes, "Licorice Ice Cream, it- it's on the house." 

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