#♱ 𝔞𝔰𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡

[concretejunglefm]

I’ve seen that you’ve written about puppy noah! x reader but how about the opposite with dom noah x puppy girl reader / reader! [unsure if you do pronouns or not I’ve never sent a request b4]

here you go! i hope you enjoy this bb 💕 i don't mind pronoun specific or nb at all <3

cw: 18 + 𝖒𝖉𝖓𝖎. puppy/pet play, mentions of cage, tail butt plug, masturbation, cum play, eating cum from a bowl, use of collar/leash, dom!noah, sub/puppy!reader, use of ‘good girl’, reader referred to as ‘puppy’ and ‘mutt’, humiliation kink.

The cage isn’t meant as punishment tonight. It’s filled with plush blankets so the floor doesn’t bite at your knees, a couple of toys scattered inside—one being your comfort toy, but the sight that it holds you back from feels crueler than any punishment: Noah, sitting on his desk chair positioned directly opposite the cage, giving you a full view of his current state.

His hand strokes lazily over his hardened cock, gaze fixed on you with a hazy grin. “You’re being a good pet for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” His tone is teasing, and all you can do is whine in response, shifting slightly in the small space, the movement making you acutely aware of the stretch of your tail plug.

The ache intensifies—you want it to be him filling you, not this toy. You feel needy watching him, knowing exactly what he’s doing. It isn’t punishment, not really, but it borders on humiliation in the exact way you crave, especially with your leash dangling through the bars of the cage, waiting for him to take it when he’s ready to claim you.

“Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back as his head tips against the chair. You watch the way his hand squeezes around the tip of his cock, precum spilling over his fingers. Your tongue slips over your lips, imagining the salty taste spreading across it. Your focus is so intent on him, on his cock and his hand, that his voice makes you flinch when it cuts through your daze.

“Does my puppy want a taste?” His mouth quirks into a smirk, and you meet it with your best soft puppy eyes before whispering a pleading, “Please?”

For a moment, he looks like he might give in, head tilting, brow arching as though to urge you on, but he’s waiting. Testing, and you realize too late what you’ve missed—the most important part of begging.

“Please, what?”

“Sir,” you correct quickly, whining softly as you rock back and forth, clenching purposefully around the plug buried deep inside you. It brings no relief, but you’re desperate. “Yes, sir.”

Your correction earns a satisfied look, and he rewards you with the one thing you crave most: his praise. “That’s my good pet.”

Hope flickers in your chest. Maybe he’ll free you, maybe he’ll finally let you have what you want, until you see him reach for something with his other hand, a bowl—your bowl. The one he’d surprised you with when you first confessed, shyly, that you liked the idea of having your own.

The words ‘my pretty puppy’ are etched across the front in careful lettering, and you know immediately what he intends when he positions it before him.

This time, it isn’t for water or a sweet treat.

Noah’s pace quickens, his hand pumping with a rougher edge, grunts breaking from his throat as he fucks into his fist. You watch, wide eyed, as he aims the tip down towards the bowl just as his body seizes, spilling into it in thick, hot ropes. His other hand works him through it, squeezing along his shaft until every drop is coaxed out.

When his breathing slows and his chest steadies, he leans forward with a half smirk, setting the bowl carefully on the floor. “Does my puppy want to come out? Are you a hungry little mutt? Do you want a treat?” His voice is mocking, taunting, but soft beneath the bite.

The click of the latch makes your heart lurch. You look up at him as he opens the cage, and instead of reaching for your leash, he first slides his cum slicked hand inside, pressing his fingers past your lips. You gag as he pushes too deep, but you’re eager, desperate to clean him, licking greedily until every trace is gone.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, tugging your leash free from the bars and fastening it. A gentle tug pulls you out, crawling on your knees, following him across the room until you’re settled in front of the bowl.

“There,” he says softly, his free hand stroking your hair before gathering it in his grip to hold it out of the way. “Now be a good pup and don’t waste any.”

You lower your head obediently, tongue slipping out to lap experimentally at the thick, bitter mess. His voice is there the whole time, murmuring praise while you lick the bowl clean, ass raised high, tail swaying, hips shifting restlessly in search of a release that only he can give.

[concretejunglefm]

Ruffilo makes my hand kink go brr. Like imgaine his fingers curling inside you while the other is trailing up your body.

“Look at me.” Nicholas purrs, and how he expects you to focus is beyond you. You can’t think past the way his fingers curl inside you, making your back arch and drawing out the prettiest sounds for his ears.

The rough tips of his fingers drag along your soft skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, making you shudder beneath him—desperate for more, desperate to feel his mouth on you.

“How’s this, sweetheart? Does that feel good?” His voice stays low and soft, his cool gaze fixed on yours as you peer at him through hooded lashes, barely able to nod. His strokes inside you hit your most sensitive spots, unrelenting.

“Y-yes…” you stammer, but just shakes his head.

“I think you can do better than that,” he murmurs, and the next curl of his fingers has you gasping louder, his touch angled perfectly against that spongy spot. Your eyes roll back, head falling into the pillow, and Nicholas only smirks, satisfied, watching how easily you succumb to him. Already, your body trembles with the heat coiling low in your belly.

“Yeah? You like this, don’t you. God, look at you—so pretty for me.” His praise is a low hum as his free hand glides up your chest, pausing just long enough to tease at your nipples before moving higher. His fingers stretch out, curling loosely around your throat, tilting your head just enough in his grip to force your eyes back on him.

“I want you to look at me when I make you cum all over my fingers.”

[concretejunglefm]

Thoughts on Vessel & primal play? 👀😏

(also I love your blog 🥺 your mind is just 😌👌🏽)

Hi bb, tysm 🥹💕 God, you had to pick my favourite kink, didn’t you? 🤭

Given the way we’ve seen Vessel on stage, I have no doubt he’s a big fan of that wrestling type of play, just pinning you down, grinding upon you, teasing his teeth against your throat, then a slow, taunting lick before he nips and bites down hard, and that’s not the only place he bites—or the only reason. He wants to claim you, and he’ll fuck you like it too, anywhere he pins you. Bonus points if you fight him back a little in your own attempt at dominance 🤭

Another thing he loves is the thrill of the hunt. He loves when you choose to play that game—him quietly stalking you, watching from a distance, sending you pictures of yourself as he closes in, until finally he catches you. By then, he’s worked up beyond control, and what follows is a rough, feral fuck.

[concretejunglefm]

Jolly making your spit for lube when he jerks off. Like he won't let you touch and he won't touch you yet, but you can rest your head on his thigh and watch him jerk off, waiting until he needs your mouth for more spit until he cums and gives you a slight facial.

cw: 18 + 𝖒𝖉𝖓𝖎. teasing, masturbation, pussy slaps, mild degradation.

“Spit.” It’s his only instruction—so commanding, eyes dark and locked on you, palm held up in front of your mouth, expectant.

You roll a ball of saliva across your tongue before lifting your head just slightly from his thigh, where he told you to rest it, and spit directly into his hand. He watches for a moment as it pools there before bringing it to his shaft, lathering it along with the precum already glistening at the tip.

You watch, completely mesmerized and aching at the sight, yet so needy it hurts, because Jolly won’t allow you even a taste, not even a touch. He’s made it clear this isn’t for you—it’s for him. You’re nothing more than something for him to use in this moment, and he gets off on watching your denial.

You think maybe you can at least steal a little relief for yourself, your hand creeping down between your thighs, fingers pushing between your slick folds until a faint gasp slips from you the moment you press against your aching clit. For a fleeting second, you think you’ve gotten away with it, until his sudden grip clamps around your wrist.

Jolly yanks your hand away with a warning, a growl roughening his voice. “What did I tell you?”

You half expect him to return to jerking himself off while forcing you to watch, but instead, you feel the harsh slap of his hand against your thigh. He drags the other one open, forcing your legs apart, then brings his hand down between them—striking your cunt. The sharp smack sends a shudder rolling through you, making you whine and squirm as the vibrations spark against your already sensitive clit.

“Now lay there and behave.”

The corner of his mouth curves into a smirk as he watches you, his hand working faster along his cock. Every so often he spanks your cunt again, each hit making his cock twitch in his grip, the tip weeping fresh precum as he squeezes from the base. His breath grows heavier, muscles flexing as the pace stutters, until finally he cums—spurting warm, thick ropes in your direction, your mouth falling open, tongue out, desperate for even the smallest taste.

[concretejunglefm]

Maybe an eiffel tower thought in celebration of you getting tickets in paris?

BB I WANT A WHOLE ROTATION!

You in the middle, them switching out like a tag team match, let’s go 👏 then you’re going to reverse it, because they’re gonna be in either hole at least once. Fuck you, then have you choking on their cock and vice versa. Make you feel like a double stuffed Oreo, then like a Twinkie when they’re finished. Maybe even a glazed donut, painting your face like their Mona Lisa when they’re done. So pretty. Don’t worry, they’ll feed it to you. Can’t waste a single drop.

[concretejunglefm]

thot confession ˚˖ ࣪

I cannot get the thot of Noah (wolfcut!noah to be exact!!) being your piercer, hear me out - going to get both your nipples done and being nervous and he’s all sweet talking and flirty and constantly dancing around the line of professionalism, maybe you need to be talked through an orgasm to calm down for the piercing? 😌 and afterwards he cannot get enough of how good they look ??? idk sorry this is my brainrot and I didn’t know where to share it, I just need wolfcut Noah to slut me out 😩

Hi, anon, do you have any idea how much I love this? It has completely taken over my brain!!!

Honestly, you needed your friends to hype you up and talk you into it, because maybe you were just a teeny bit nervous, especially with how sensitive your nipples already are. Plus, you’d heard about the possibility of losing sensitivity and all that.

When you showed up, the last person you expected to see was this young guy. Not only did he have this playfully charming smile, but he was so flirty that it definitely helped put you at ease a little.

CW: fingering, light nipple play, praising, use of ‘good girl’, semi-public, kinda dirty talk(?).

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

“Come, take a seat right here.” He gestures you over, a tattooed hand patting the padded table. Surprisingly, your legs feel like jelly as you approach, nerves starting to creep back in. “First time?” he asks, brow slightly cocked.

You nod slowly. “Uh… yeah.”

“Ah, a virgin.” He grins, something cheeky in his tone, and for a second, you almost want to be offended by the remark, until he adds, “My favorite.” There’s a flicker in the way he says it that suggests he doesn’t just mean it in relation to piercings.

When you hop up onto the table and make yourself comfortable, he instructs, “Shirt off.”

You manage to find your voice, and a flicker of confidence, as you quickly quip, “What? You’re not going to help?”

That catches his attention. His gaze locks onto yours, and a faint heat rises to your cheeks. Not regret, exactly, just a hint of skepticism about whether you should’ve said that.

To your surprise, he approaches you, large hands settling on the bed on either side of your thighs. Even with the height difference, his frame manages to crowd you, keeping him just that little bit above you.

“If you think it’ll help you relax…” he murmurs, raising a brow again. There’s a small tug of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, and then you feel the daring brush of his hands—fingers grazing your thighs, then your hips, curling into the fabric of your shirt.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you let out a breathless, “Yes.”

His fingers slide higher, grazing along your sides as he lifts your shirt slowly over your head.

“Your bra,” he says, gesturing. You nod, silently inviting him to help with that, too, and he does, his hands slipping behind you, stepping in even closer so you can feel the heat of his body against yours.

You’re tempted to reach out and touch him, especially as your eyes follow the ink trailing up his arms, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt and peeking from the V at his collar. It makes you wonder how far the tattoos go.

“Now lie down for me,” he orders, and you comply without hesitation.

His hand brushes along your sternum as he continues upward, pausing at the valley between your breasts. “I’ll try to be as gentle as possible.”

“Do you make that promise to all your clients?” you ask, your tone soft and teasing.

“Only the really pretty ones.” He winks down at you, and a wave of heat stirs low in your stomach, especially as his hand hasn’t moved.

“Are you sensitive?” he asks.

You hum in response, just as his hand slides over one breast, thumb brushing faintly across your already hardened nipple. The light contact draws out the faintest moan—unintentional, but impossible to hold back.

“Oh, very sensitive,” he murmurs, mostly to himself, though the sly smirk at his lips makes it clear he’s enjoying every second. “You know,” he adds, “if you need help relaxing… I may have another solution.”

You turn your head, brow raised in silent question.

“I hear an orgasm really helps,” he says thoughtfully, his fingers still toying with your nipple—twisting, tugging gently before moving to the other, offering it the same soft attention. “I can talk you through it. Just enough to help you unwind.”

As his hand begins to lower again, gliding down your stomach and over the front of your jeans, your legs part instinctively, welcoming the idea.

“Please…?” you whisper softly, batting your lashes up at him.

You hear the soft jingle of your zipper as he tugs your jeans down. Your hips arch, wriggling just enough for him to slip his hand into the front of your panties. The moment his fingers brush over your slit, your hips buck—desperately craving the contact.

“Just tell me where it feels good,” he says, catching your gaze. His free hand cradles the back of your head, fingers threading beneath your hair to hold you close as he dips a finger between your folds.

Instantly, you push against him, gasping when he finds your clit and begins to draw slow, smooth circles. The slickness gathering between your thighs makes every stroke more intense, your body already responding.

When he moves a little deeper, your breath catches. “Right there.”

The full connection against your clit sends a ripple of pleasure through you.

“Here?” he asks, pressing more firmly. You nod, biting down on your lower lip to stifle the moans threatening to spill out.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, the praise soft and low. Your hands reach up, grasping at his arm for grounding. “Are you gonna… oh, that’s it,” he coaxes. “Just grind yourself against my fingers. Make yourself feel good.”

His voice shifts, thick with heat, as he watches you begin to roll your hips—grinding into his hand. You feel the addition of a second finger pressing to your clit, both working in tandem, coaxing you closer and closer as the tension builds low in your stomach.

You know it shouldn’t be turning you on this much, being touched like this by a complete stranger, but you can’t help it. Every part of this moment is overwhelmingly arousing. The thrill of potentially being caught. The way he charmed his way into your space, into your body. The way his eyes stay locked on you, hungry.

When you glance up at him, you catch that look of lust. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip as he watches you, like he wants nothing more than to devour you right then and there.

“Let me hear your moans, baby,” he urges gently.

You start to whimper, holding back with a harsh bite to your lip—hard enough to taste copper on your tongue.

“That’s it—let go for me. You know you want to cum.”

His voice is coaxing, low and encouraging as he listens to the sound of your growing moans, and god, you do. You can feel the wave rising, building higher with every second. Your hips buck faster as his fingers press harder, rubbing relentless, perfect circles.

Your nails dig into his arm, scratching along the skin as you ride his fingers to your climax. You hold on tight, shuddering around him when you finally careen over the edge. The pleasure crashes through you, overwhelming and all consuming.

He doesn’t let go. One hand strokes your scalp gently, keeping you grounded, and you barely catch the sound of his murmured praise through the buzzing in your ears.

When he finally pulls away, his fingers slip from your panties, and you watch as he brings them up to his lips. Your cum coats them, glistening. His eyes are slightly hooded as he runs his tongue along one long, slender finger, humming approvingly at the taste of you.

“You should feel nice and relaxed now,” he says with a smirk.

And he’s right. You do. You feel blissful—floaty, even, as you lie back on the bed, practically seeing hearts in your eyes and already craving more of him.

[concretejunglefm]

Hi Lexi🤍 I have just one question, how's enchanted!Noah doing?🥺👉🏼👈🏼

I miss my husband

hi bb, your husbandenchanted!noah is doing great and being the supportive hubbyboyfriend he always is 💕

CW: nothing but absolute fluff with reader feeling a little overwhelmed and nonverbal.

It’s been days since you last spoke to Noah, and honestly, it wasn’t intentional. You have a habit of overwhelming yourself to the point that you shut down—hiding away, trying to block out the noise, but how do you tell the one person who loves spending every free moment with you that you wouldn’t be good company right now?

The spoon analogy comes to mind. You’re juggling too many, and they’re all on the verge of clattering to the floor—if they haven’t already.

When the doorbell rings, it’s almost the final straw. You weren’t expecting anyone, and truthfully, you don’t feel like seeing anyone either. Your friends wouldn’t understand—or worse, they’d take it personally. So, it’s been easier to go quiet for a few days. Send the occasional message here and there, just enough to let them know you’re thinking of them, even while you’re fighting a war inside your own head.

With a deep, heaving sigh, you open the door, only to find yourself face to face with a broad chest and a familiar shirt. Your eyes travel upward, closing the height gap until they settle on Noah’s face. Your mouth opens, ready to say something—maybe an apology, but nothing comes out. You’re speechless as he looks down at you, something soft and unreadable in his expression.

“Hey,” he says gently. He leans into the doorframe, reaching out to idly tug at the string of your pyjama pants. You hadn’t bothered changing into real clothes, just swapped one set of pajamas for another after your shower. It’s not like you had plans to go anywhere.

“Noah.” You breathe his name, and suddenly you’re flooded with the urge to hand him a barrage of excuses, one after the other, but nothing comes. Instead, you watch as he dips his head slightly, leaning in closer.

“I came to see if you knew where my girlfriend was,” he says, voice light but laced with concern. “It’s been a few days, and, well… she’s about yay high.” He lifts a hand to mimic your height. “Prettiest eyes, terrible sense of humor—but amazing taste in food.”

You look at him, frozen for a beat, before you throw yourself toward him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist. His own arms engulf you easily, pressing you against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble against his shirt, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the top of your head.

“Why?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

Maybe it was your own doing. Being stuck in your head, caught in the spiral that convinced you that needing time alone—without explanation or contact—somehow made you a bad person. It made you stretch yourself beyond your limits, again and again. Or maybe you’d just spent too much time around people who demanded more than you could ever give.

“Because I haven’t seen you or spoken to you,” you mumble, face pressed to his chest. Your breath staggers as the emotion rises, eyes burning with the press of unshed tears.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head as his arms tighten, keeping you close.

“Shall we go and help you relax a little?”

You nod without a word, still refusing to pull away. He shuffles you back through the door before scooping you into his arms. Your legs wrap instinctively around his waist, arms looping around his neck as you nestle into the crook of it, grounding yourself in his warmth.

“I can’t promise I’ll be much fun,” you mumble against his neck, your nose brushing his skin as you breathe in the familiar scent of him. It envelopes you instantly, grounding you, soothing you—like being pulled back under a warm blanket of safety.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he assures you, and it feels like a weight slowly lifting.

“Really?” You pull back slightly to look at him just as he reaches the couch and gently lays you down on it.

“Yeah.”

“Even if it means not wanting to talk?”

“Even then.”

He leans in, his lips brushing your forehead before pressing a tender kiss there. Your eyes flutter shut, and the heaviness that clung to you just moments ago lifts—just enough for you to breathe again.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt like a security blanket, like you need to keep him close.

Noah doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to. Instead, he shifts beside you on the couch, gathering you into his arms and resting you against his chest. One large hand cradles the back of your head, his fingers gently rubbing your scalp, slow and comforting. The warmth of him, the rhythm of his touch, the quiet—all of it begins to blur, the fuzzy feeling pulling you under until sleep takes hold.

When you wake, it’s definitely not a pretty sight. You can feel the dry drool at the corner of your mouth, and you blink sluggishly as you try to push yourself upright. Noah’s long limbs are no longer wrapped around you, but you hear the distinct sound of his voice singing in the kitchen, accompanied by the soft hum of a radio in the background.

Your vision blurs as you come to, but once you’re awake enough to focus, a smile slowly spreads across your face. He’s moving around your kitchen with a familiar grace and ease—something he’s done more and more since he started coming over. He knows the layout well enough to plate something up without even thinking about it, and that’s exactly what he’s doing now.

“Oh, you’re awake!” he calls out, licking a bit of sauce from the pad of his thumb before flashing you a playful grin. “Someone had a good sleep, I see.” He nods toward you—specifically your hair, which is standing up, messy and wild.

“Yeah, well…” you mumble, huffing softly as you try to pat it down. Whether or not it helps, you’re not sure, but all thoughts of bedhead vanish when he walks over, bearing two plates.

“I got you some food for sustenance,” he says, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you. “Looked like you were living off those leftovers longer than you should’ve.”

You duck your head, guilty as charged, eyes falling to the food in front of you. “Thank you,” you murmur, a tired smile pulling at your lips. Then you pucker them slightly, wordlessly asking for a kiss.

Naturally, he obliges the moment he sees you. He leans in and presses a tender kiss to your lips before sinking down onto the couch beside you. “It’s from your favourite place,” he adds, balancing his plate in one hand as he leans back against the cushions. “And maybe after, I can run you a bath—or a hot shower?”

“Are you trying to say I smell?” you ask, turning your head to raise a brow at him.

Noah just laughs, shaking his head. “Well…”

You scoff and nudge him with your shoulder, but the smallest smile tugs at your lips at the thought. A small, sweet gesture. One you didn’t realize you needed.

“I’d like that,” you say softly.

As promised, Noah runs you a hot shower, and to your surprise, even when he steps in behind you to join, there’s no funny business—no ulterior motive to his gesture. Just sweetness and him. He leaves the gentlest kisses along your shoulders and the back of your neck as he lathers you up, his touch tender and unhurried.

His fingers glide across your skin, caressing every dip and curve with reverence, taking in every inch he passes. It’s soft and worshipful, a kind of care that makes you feel deeply loved. You easily melt back into his chest, letting yourself sink into the solid feel of him and the warmth of his body against yours.

When he lathers your hair, his fingers gently massaging your scalp, it sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps rising across your skin. Your head tilts back instinctively, and he dips forward—pressing one kiss, then another, trailing along your neck and up to your jaw until you turn and meet his mouth with yours. All the while, his fingers continue working through your hair, still massaging, still gentle.

“How does that feel?” he whispers.

A soft, pleased sound escapes you. “Good,” you nod, your hands pressing to his stomach as you steady yourself, leaning into him while he guides you back under the stream of water.

He takes his time—rinsing the bubbles out, working in the conditioner, then rinsing that out too, and when he finally turns off the water, he steps out with you, reaching immediately for a towel and wrapping it snugly around your body.

You slip your arms around his waist, pressing your face to his still wet chest. You breathe him in—the faint scent of your shared body wash mixed with that distinct scent that’s just him. It makes you melt, makes butterflies stir in your stomach, fluttering in a way you don’t think could ever stop, especially not when he scoops you up bridal style and carries you off to the bedroom.

There, he picks out another set of pyjamas for you to slip into, something soft and comfortable, and once you’re dressed, he climbs into bed beside you, pulling you into his chest like you belong there, because you do.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami-gami@floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens  @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @courta13 @oobleoob @bluehairpunklol @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @swissy23 @i-love-the-smell-of-your-blood @kenjipepsi1 @birdie-in-arcadia @blackcherrywhiskey @saythatuwill @stardustsirenmelody @concretenoah @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @limerinseme @lilgarbitch @pipidoll @heyyoplayer @iconic-taurus @flowery-mess @jesuisunchaton @bluestdai @respectfulrebel @dravenskye

[concretejunglefm]

Ok so watching all the recently uploaded Noah streams and seeing how sweet and gentle he is with the dogs… gave me a thought

Imagine you guys have lived together for a little while, saving up to get a bigger place and then you’ve agreed to finally once you moved let him get a dog after months of him begging.

But they he’s driving home one day and sees a little lost puppy by the side of the road and can’t help but sweep it up… bringing the little baby animal to you with a “okay… just… hear me out… swear you won’t be mad… look at his little face I COULDNT JUST LEAVE HIM THERE”

Extra points if he names the dog something masculine and then finds out it’s actually a girl when you finally take the little thing to the vet… but he’s not gonna change the name now cause “I DONT WANT TO CONFUSE HER SHES SO LITTLE”

I’m sorry this took so long, bb, it was sitting in my drafts and I kept staring at it, overthinking, but it’s such a sweet idea, because I love Noah with pups, and the thought of him picking one up from the side of the road to bring home has me feeling so soft 🥹 thank you for bringing this to me 💕

“You understand the plan, right?” Noah asks, but the only response he gets is a soft squeak from the bright brown eyes staring back at him in the form of a pup he’d come across at the side of the road.

“I need you to give her those same puppy eyes you did me because…” He trails off the moment their expression shifts ever so slightly, the puppy eyes returning with an extra dose of soft whining, now accompanied by the stamping of their two front paws. Then the pup crawls into his lap, already making themself comfortable before Noah’s even officially brought them home or introduced his new furry companion to you.

“Don’t worry, they won’t take much convincing,” he murmurs, lowering his voice as if he risks being overheard. His fingers brush through their fur, stopping to scratch the top of their head before tucking them into one arm and stepping out of the car.

“Let’s go see your new home.” He dips his head to nuzzle the top of theirs before heading inside.

The moment you hear the door open, your head lifts, eyes flicking toward the living room door. “I’m in here,” you call out, glancing back down at your phone.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch movement and turn your head to see Noah peeking around the door, wearing the sheepish look of a kid caught in the act, while holding a tiny ball of fur against his chest, partially hidden by the door.

“Okay… just… hear me out,” he starts, already wincing like he’s bracing for impact. “Swear you won’t be mad…”

Stepping slowly into the room, he turns the pup toward you—big eyes, floppy ears, a tiny whimper, and your ‘we agreed to wait’ speech dies before it even leaves your mouth. Your features soften instantly, an audible ‘aww’ escaping as you set your phone down and reach for the pup.

You pull them to your chest, rewarded with excited licks against your chin as your hand strokes the back of their neck. Noah explains how he’d found the stray on the side of the road—no one around, no tag, just abandoned. The thought breaks your heart, but your chest swells at the idea of giving this one a good home.

“I couldn’t just leave him there,” Noah insists, stroking the pup’s head. “Look at him. He’s a baby. I rescued him. You can’t be mad at me for rescuing a baby.”

When you glance at Noah, you’re met with a pair of brown puppy eyes to match the pup’s, and you roll your own, grinning despite yourself.

“Of course I can’t, but if we’re going to keep him we need to name the little fella.”

“Oh, easy! Kevin, or Ned. I haven’t really settled on which yet.”

“Really?” You raise a brow, trying to hold back your laughter before shrugging. “Okay, well… hello Kevin or Ned. Welcome to the family.”

The ball of fur yips happily in your arms, and Noah wastes no time—barely an hour later, he’s taking photos and sending them to his friends and group chats, proudly introducing ‘his new little buddy, Kevin.’

You suggest taking him to the vet to get checked over before buying supplies and letting him fully settle in, and Noah happily agrees, acting like the proudest dog dad in the waiting room, but the vet has news: Kevin is, in fact, a girl.

“I guess we should come up with a new name for her,” you say.

“No. She knows she’s Kevin now.”

“Noah, it’s been a couple of hours.”

“Yeah, well… I don’t wanna confuse her—she’s so little.”

So Kevin she stays, and later that week, you catch him crouched in the kitchen, cooing in the softest voice you’ve ever heard, “Princess Kevin,” while she paws at his leg.

[concretejunglefm]

Thinking about specifically this photo of wolfcut!noah. He's so cute and soft and his little smirk- Anyway, I think he'd make the cutest whimpers and whines while being pegged but that's just my personal opinion. Thinking about making a bet with him, one that he loses, which ends up in you pegging him. You've been friends with him for a while now, and it wasn't the first time that you two had strayed into territory that wasn't purely platonic. He's all cocky and self-assured - at least until you start touching him 😵‍💫🥴. Thinking about ruining him so well, that afterwards he can't even walk, wiping that smirk off of his face 💕

Oh, my favourite brand of Noah, and you’re absolutely right about him making the cutest whimpers and whines. Do I sense a teeny 🤏 smidge of a fuckboy in him that needs to be thoroughly fucked out of him? 🤭 He’s just so full of himself, and maybe he has a right to be. He wants to brag about his latest conquest, about all the compliments he got. He can’t help it, and maybe that’s exactly what fuels this bet 😏

CW: pegging, teasing, noah likes being called a good boy, kinda sub!noah

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

“I bet I could make you cum.”

Noah says it so confidently, laid back on the couch with that smug little smirk on his face, that you can’t help but want to wipe it off, but all his statement earns is a scoff from you.

“Oh, please. Some days I can barely make myself cum, what makes you think you can?” You cock a brow at him.

He just shrugs, the smugness not slipping for even a second. If anything, he’s oozing with it now as he lifts a hand and wriggles his fingers, like that alone is an answer.

“Oh, I just have my ways.”

“Mhm, mhm. And is that mouth only good for talking, or other things too?”

“Why don’t you find out?” He sticks his tongue out and wiggles it at you, his brows raising along with his grin. You just shake your head, laughing quietly.

Shifting slightly, you move closer, pressing a hand to his thigh and slowly inching it higher as you lean in. You catch it—the way his breath hitches, how he freezes under your touch. Clearly, he’s all talk, and that just makes this even more fun.

“Well, I bet I can make you cum without even touching your dick.”

You tilt your head, batting your lashes so innocently as his eyes widen. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. It’s the same conversation you often circle back to—flirting with the idea of pegging him, of being the one who makes him fall apart.

Despite his long limbs, he’s so easy to maneuver. He even lets you, spreading his legs apart as you shift onto your knees between his thighs, lifting his ass so it’s aligned with your own hips. You rock your hips forward, pressing against him, teasing the idea, and even without touching him, just looking over the front of his jeans, the bulge forming is unmistakable.

“Oh, I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

You taunt him, amused at how the cat’s got his tongue now—how his eyes already look like they want to roll back in his head. You can only imagine how pretty he looks when they do, how sweet he must sound when he moans for you.

“What do you say, pretty boy? Wanna make a bet on it?”

He agrees without hesitation, barely needing any convincing—far too eager for what’s to come.

The rules are simple: if you don’t make him cum hands free, then he gets to try and make you cum, but if you do then you get exactly what you wanted—to peg him.

You’re gentle with him at first, choosing a toy small enough for him to handle, and just like on the couch when the bet was made, you’ve got him spread out for you now on the bed. He’s gazing up at you, legs bent back at the knees, cock resting against his stomach—hard, leaking, and twitching, the tip flushed red from the buildup of teasing as you worked him open.

“There you go… such a good boy for me, aren’t you?”

You coo softly, watching how prettily he spreads around the toy—around you. Your hands settle on his thighs, keeping him open for you, using them for leverage as you begin to rock your hips, sliding slowly in and out of him.

When you look up, his face is a picture of pure pleasure. It’s even prettier than you imagined—squirming under every deep thrust, each stroke against his prostate making his cock twitch harder, leaking more. The pressure is building inside him, a white hot coil tightening with every motion.

You know it’s only a matter of time.

The soft whimpers and whining noises he makes spur you on, especially when they rise into squeals from each increasingly harsher thrust.

“That’s a good boy,” you praise, watching the way his body flushes at your words. You slide your hands up from his thighs, carefully avoiding his cock and settling them on his stomach instead, pressing down just enough to feel the way his muscles spasm beneath your palm.

“You gonna cum for me? Cum all over yourself like a little slut?”

You taunt, and he rewards you with the prettiest moan—something so needy, so whoreish, it makes you want to fuck him harder, until a mess, until he can’t stop, and maybe that’s exactly what you’re going to do.

[concretejunglefm]

Just thinking about Noah with a short girl and the fact he could pick her up..for mant reasons in many contexts. 👀

I know you mean this in a thot way anon, but it honestly made me think of this little cute thing I wrote, I hope you don't mind 💕

“No! I’m determined to reach it myself.”

It would be a lie to say Noah doesn’t find your stubbornness endearing, especially when the easy solution would be to just accept his help, but he doesn’t argue.

Instead, he watches, his eyes tracing the backs of your legs, your thighs, and the curve of your ass as you stretch. They travel higher, following the slow rise of your shirt. He’s grateful you agreed it would be your only piece of clothing at home. More of your skin is revealed, as if teasing him. He licks his lips in anticipation at the brief glimpse of your stomach before you’re covered again—at least partially.

You’re giving it your all, and he admires your perseverance as you climb the counter to reach the one thing you truly want—something he may or may not have placed a little too high on purpose, and he’ll be standing there, waiting, arms extended, ready to swoop in and catch you the moment you’re ready to come down.

“Next time, let me give you a lift.”

[concretejunglefm]

this might be a weird request and i totally get if you are not interested in writing something like this but i just had a terribly bad hook up with a guy like...worst sex of my damn life and I could use a good laugh so maybe you could write about something that got talked about here briefly a while back and that being that Noah sucks at sex 😂 just thinks he's the best but he really isn't and you're kinda shocked at how bad that was 😭

love you and have a great day 💕

HI BB! My condolences for the bad hookup and sex, we’ve all been there. I hope this gives you a good laugh (not at all based on a real experience 👀🤣🤭). I think we deserve to knock Noah down just a little 🤏 bit. Here you go, bb 💕

CW: mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, bad sex, nipple play, noah has a little trouble 👀, noah barks (no literally)

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

It’s customary for someone to have slutty wedding sex at a wedding or during the reception, you just never anticipated that it would be you.

Well… if you can even call it that.

All night, you can feel the heated gaze of one of the groomsmen, and you’re unable to pull your own away from him. Tall, handsome, and with tattoos peeking from beneath the collar of his tailored suit, curling up along his neck and inked across his hands—he’s the kind of man who makes your curiosity burn. You want to know how far those tattoos go, to trace every line, and to see how it feels to have those hands all over you.

“I’m Noah,” he finally introduces himself after almost twenty minutes of nonstop eye fucking. The corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk, his tongue dragging slowly across his lower lip, and all you can think about is how much you want to kiss him. Right here. Right now.

You don’t, of course. You’re a lady and it’s your friend’s wedding. What kind of friend would you be if you slipped away mid reception to hook up with one of her hot groomsmen?

After your fifth drink, that idea goes straight out the window, and you get your wish. Dutch courage has you following his lead back to his room, which mirrors yours, except for the larger bed dominating the center.

“Hey! How come you have a bigger bed?” The words come out sharper than you intended, your brow furrowing as you kick off your heels. When you glance back at Noah, he just shrugs, already slipping out of his suit jacket and unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. He rolls the sleeves up, revealing the multitude of tattoos sprawling along his forearms.

“I dunno. Maybe ‘cause I’m a groomsman.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice. You scoff, but before you can retort, he’s reaching for you and pulling you closer.

“It’s pretty lonely in there without someone to share it with.” His forehead presses to yours, his fingers brushing low against the small of your back, and the touch sends a shiver rippling up your spine.

“Oh yeah? Maybe you need someone to share it with.” Your voice softens to a whisper as you lean in, arms winding around his neck. When he kisses you, it’s sloppy, hungry, and you swear can taste the remnants of alcohol on his lips and tongue.

Before long, you’re on your knees in the middle of the bed, your green dress hiked up to your waist, panties pulled to your thighs, ass in the air. The ache between your thighs is already unbearable. The way he’d kissed you moments ago left your stomach fluttering and heat pooling low, and all night those dark brown eyes had told you he was a man who knew exactly what you needed, and right now, you were desperate for him.

Suddenly, there’s a brief lull. It takes you a moment to register what’s happening behind you, and when you pause, you turn your head to glance over your shoulder at him.

“Is everything okay back there?” Your words slur slightly, and he nods, though you catch the motion of his arm and the way his breathing hitches.

“Yeah, fine. Just… getting myself ready.”

You want to retort that you thought he already was, especially after you’d very distinctly dragged your hand across his bulge, but you bite your tongue.

After a beat, you feel the press of his tip against your slit, a low moan slipping from you as you’re dragged right back into the moment.

You’d felt his cock through his pants earlier while making out, you thought it was a decent size—bigger than you could remember having, but now you’re certain. His hips drive forward, pressing against your ass as his cock sinks deep into your wet, waiting cunt. The stretch is enough to make your eyes roll and your head dip forward, savoring every inch of him filling you.

You squeeze around him as he pulls back, another moan escaping, only for your body to jolt forward with his next thrust, your head knocking into the headboard.

It becomes a repeated motion, his thrusts completely out of sync, pounding in some bizarre rhythm you can’t even begin to decipher. The constant smack of your head against the headboard is quickly giving you a headache.

Behind you, his own sounds grow louder, until you hear what you’re almost certain is a distinct “ARF ARF.”

Your eyes widen, your whole body going tense as you call back over your shoulder: “Am I high, or did you just bark?”

The former is a possibility, your friend had let you take a couple hits from their vape, but you’re pretty damn sure it wouldn’t make you hallucinate this guy literally barking like a dog while fucking you.

“Noo?” His tone is anything but convincing. You squint, turning your head to try and get a better look at him and that’s when you feel his cock slip out of you.

Thank fucking god, you think to yourself.

“Get on your back.” You shift, huffing slightly as you kick yourself out of your panties and pull your dress completely off, tossing both to the floor.

“What?” He looks at you like you’ve just asked him to solve some impossible math equation, and you can’t help thinking someone this hot shouldn’t be this dumb—or this bad at sex. Maybe it’s just the alcohol, you try to excuse.

You pat the bed, gesturing for him to climb on with a simple instruction. “Get on the bed and lay down on your back.”

Finally, he follows with a bright, “Oh!” You shake your head before climbing over to straddle him.

“We’ll try it my way,” you murmur. His face lights up the moment you settle over him, one hand gripping your hip while the other reaches between you to guide his cock along your folds. Slowly, you sink down onto him.

“Oh, fuck.” You moan deeply, head tipping back at the feeling of him filling you, the way he reaches so deep. Each slow rock of your hips drags him against your walls, hitting all the most sensitive spots.

“That’s it, just lay back and let me… fuck.” You pick up your pace, and his hands begin to roam—up your stomach, to your chest, groping and squeezing your breasts while his thumbs tease your nipples.

Then, out of nowhere, he catches you off guard. “Can you play with my nipples?”

It’s not that you mind. It’s the way he says it—so randomly, that makes you blink and slow for a beat. “Uh… yeah, sure.”

Your hands slide up his chest, teasing his nipples between your forefinger and thumb. He bucks beneath you, and your rhythm picks up again, hips rolling to keep his cock rubbing just right inside you. The heat in your stomach builds, your climax drawing closer, every movement pushing you higher and higher—

Until everything crashes to a halt when his hands suddenly grip your hips.

“Stop, stop! I’m gonna cum, stop!” Noah whimpers beneath you.

You almost spit back, That’s the point, but instead you just roll your eyes—more out of frustration than anything. You slow your movements to a lazy grind, feeling your own orgasm slip away, fading completely.

His fingers dig into your hips. You’re half tempted to twist his nipples in retaliation, but instead you keep toying with them, feeling the way he bucks beneath you. For most of the night he’s been quiet, but now he lets out the most scattered, broken moan, his eyes rolling back as he trembles beneath you.

“Fuck, fuck…”

“That was what I was hoping for,” you grumble, slipping off him and climbing out of bed. You head into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

All you can think about is making a mad dash to your room, maybe finishing yourself off there, but the night already feels depressing enough without having to do the job yourself.

Coming back into the room, you grab your dress from the floor and slip it back on.

“Well, this was fun. A shame the alcohol probably made it a little, uh… less enjoyable than it could’ve been.” You laugh lightly, trying to offer at least some kind of excuse, only for him to raise a brow at you.

“Alcohol? I didn’t have anything to drink.”

“You what?” You make no effort to hide the astonishment in your voice—or the offense that comes with it.

“Yeah, I don’t drink. And I had a pretty good time. Maybe we could—”

“Don’t bother asking for my number,” you cut in sharply before turning for the door. You let yourself out without another glance, disappearing down the hallway in search of your room, eager to escape this nightmare.

[concretejunglefm]

I ran this idea through a moot and she suggested I send it to you 🥴 Reader is getting married and her friends throw her a bachelorette party and they hire a group of male strippers......The strippers are hired from Bad Decisions™ Party Booking and Events and the party tells them that Y/N is about to be married and needs a really good send off cause she's been in a relationship for so long and about to only have one cock for the rest of her life

"ma'am that is exactly what we specialize in, she'll be in good hands"

did I get a little carried away? maybe but here you go bb, I hope you enjoy 💕🤭

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x f!reader + light mention of BO x f!reader.

CW: includes alcohol, doing body shots, cheating, oral (f receiving), lots of praise, use of ‘good girl’, dirty talk, dry humping, semi-public, unprotected sex, use of toys (a wand), implied potential foursome.

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

It’s a rite of passage, isn’t it? Throwing a bachelorette party for the bride to be, giving her one last celebration before she spends the rest of her life with the man she loves. So it should be no surprise to you when the strippers come out—four incredibly hot, attractive guys who make your jaw drop for various reasons.

The expanse of their tattoos alone is enough, especially with all of them shirtless. It’s a mesmerizing sight, and you don’t know where to look—much like your friends, who are struggling to stay focused between the lot of them, but it’s you who’s become the center of attention. A chair has been pulled out into the middle of the room just for you—the guest of honor.

“Who wants body shots?” Folio calls out, your friends already cheering and jeering, but it’s Noah and Jolly who crowd around you with a different plan in mind.

“You can take one off me,” Noah grins down at you, a cheeky gleam in his eye to match.

You’ve barely touched a drop of alcohol aside from the first cocktail you’re still working on, and yet you already feel a buzz—no doubt brought on by the excitement of it all.

Your eyes latch onto Noah, hands gripping his hips as you follow the trail of salt he’s laid out for you along his tattooed stomach. You catch the moan he makes, your tongue swirling purposely over his skin to ensure you lick up every grain before falling back into the chair. The roar of your friends cheering and the music playing in the background are easily drowned out by how focused you are in this moment.

“Now you’re just going to tip your head back while my friend, Jolly here, feeds you a shot.”

Behind you stands the tall Swedish one, his hair pulled up into a half up, half down do, brows raised with a cheeky smirk curling across his lips.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks, and you’re close to bursting into a giggle, feeling the flutter of nerves and the rise of goosebumps across your skin the moment his inked fingers graze the back of your neck before cradling either side, gently guiding your head back. You can’t help the way your mind wanders—how him talking you through this makes you think he’d talk you through other things, too. They both probably would.

Opening your mouth as instructed, you stick out your tongue and wait for the tequila. The moment it hits, you feel it trickling back, raising your head to swallow it the second it stops. Your face twists into a natural grimace from the taste, and when you glance up between the two of them to find the lime, you catch a flash of green between Noah’s teeth—his hint for you to come and get it.

He reaches out, helping to scoop you up the moment you stand from the chair, lifting you onto his waist. Your hands cradle his face as you lean in to bite at the lime he’s sneakily holding between his teeth. It’s a brief brush of lips, but enough to make you melt, and before you can worry about slipping from his grasp, Jolly is behind you, hands cradling your ass, the fabric of your dress inching up until you feel the air on your bare cheeks, sandwiched between the two of them.

It’s Noah who breaks the contact, spitting the lime aside before turning back to you with a smirk, but it’s you who pulls him in, mouth crashing against his. High on adrenaline and drunk on lust and liquor, you kiss him—something heated, all teeth, which catches you off guard when he bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, drawing an unexpected moan from you.

Your cheeks redden, though you’re thankful the heat of the room offers a convenient excuse, while Noah happily carries you away from the chair that had been center stage just moments ago.

“I think tonight calls for a different kind of show,” he teases, lowering you down onto the couch as your friends scatter to make space.

The moment your back hits the cushion, Noah’s hands slide up your thighs, lifting your hips as his palms slip beneath you, gripping your ass. His hips roll forward, grinding his crotch against your panty covered pussy, the thin material the only thing between you. You swear you can feel every inch of him through his pants, and you grind back, matching his rhythm as he leans in to meet you with another heated kiss.

It’s the slow grinding of his hips—teasing, yet enough to make you crave more. Your hands move to grasp at him wherever you can, roaming over the muscular expanse of his chest and arms before sliding down his stomach and reaching the waistband of his pants, tugging at it in a clear hint for him to free himself.

That’s what makes him break the kiss, but not in a way that interrupts the moment. Instead, he presses his crotch deliberately against you, letting you feel the distinct bulge through his pants. His hands cradle you, one of your legs coming up and over his shoulder, shifting the angle just enough to push down deeper, making you ache to know what it would feel like to have him inside you, to feel just how deep he could sink at that very moment.

You’ve almost forgotten about the audience of friends surrounding you, all witnesses to the way you’re being dry humped and kissed by tonight’s entertainment—many of whom probably wish they were in your place, even with Folio, Nicholas and Jolly keeping most of the girls eagerly entertained.

“Mind if he borrows her for a moment?” Folio quips to the group, but Noah’s already hoisted you over his shoulder, his hand smacking your ass as he carries you out of the room, in search of somewhere more private to continue.

The bed he lays you back on is plush beneath you. Running one hand smoothly up your leg, he keeps your thighs spread, his body preventing you from closing them, and he guides one leg up and over his shoulder, his lips trailing kisses along your calf, while the other leg he bends at the knee and presses back.

Keeping your dress bunched at your waist, he hooks his fingers into the fabric of your panties, tugging them aside instead of slipping them off. Then he dips his head down, surprising you with the sudden contact of his mouth—the flat of his tongue pushing between your folds. The sensation makes you gasp, your hands grasping at the sheets as your head falls back.

Heat swirls in your stomach, arousal building fast from the touch of his tongue alone. A part of you considers the obvious—that maybe you should be stopping him, but the moment your hand finds his head, your fingers bury in his hair and pull him closer. In response he lets out a pleased moan that vibrates against your clit, drawing a sharp, breathy whimper from your lips.

You squirm beneath him, your breathing growing ragged with every skilled flick of his tongue, the way he works it between your folds, even teasing at your entrance like he’s aching to fuck you with it. You arch your hips as best you can, pushing closer to his mouth, chasing the pressure. While his tongue stays focused, one of his hands drops down to unzip his pants, pulling his hard cock free in one smooth motion.

When he finally lifts his head, he leans up to meet you in a slow, sensual kiss, sharing the taste of you still fresh on his tongue as he climbs onto the bed. The thick shaft of his cock presses against your pussy, dragging slowly between your folds as he grinds against you, deliberately teasing.

“Since you’re about to commit to one cock for the rest of your life,” he murmurs against your lips, a coy smirk tugging at his own, “it’s only fair you get to see what you’re missing out on.”

You moan in response, nails dragging down his sides as you tug him closer, whimpering, begging.

“Please.”

It’s the only thought in your mind. You’re already soaked, wet before he’s even dared to sink in, and when he finally draws his hips back, he presses the thick tip to your entrance. One slight thrust and you feel the stretch, your pussy opening for him as your head falls back with a moan and a desperate plea for more.

He’s teasing you, rocking his hips forward just enough to slip in an inch before pulling back, and then, when you least expect it, he drives forward, thrusting deep, sinking into you fully until you feel the press of his hips flush against yours, your walls clenching around him.

He’s thick, already throbbing and twitching inside you, and he fills you so completely you swear you can feel it in your stomach.

To your surprise, Noah came more prepared than you anticipated. Even with the drag of his cock between your walls, every thrust driving you higher and higher, holding the coil of your impending orgasm deep in your belly, he reaches up the bed for his bag. They’d thrown all their stuff in here before coming out for the celebration, and from it, he pulls out a wand.

Your eyes widen. You almost don’t know what to expect—until it rumbles to life. Before you can get a word out, he’s looking down at you with a cheeky smirk, bringing the wand down between you and pressing it to your clit.

The vibrations, paired with his cock buried deep inside you, skillfully striking that perfect spot, push you closer to the brink. Your thighs are already trembling, and when he shifts the angle just slightly, it makes you moan louder, your voice breaking from how good it feels.

Your hands move from him to yourself, tugging the top of your dress down to expose your breasts. You palm them, pressing them together as you lay back and let him fuck into you, his pace switching between slow, torturous strokes and quicker, more deliberate thrusts. It’s as if he’s purposely drawing it out, determined to drag out your pleasure, wanting nothing more than to watch you fall apart for him—again and again.

It’s a goal he’s close to achieving the moment your orgasm begins to unfurl in a slow rising wave, the vibrations on your clit edging you closer each time he drives his cock deeper.

Leaning over you, his mouth meets yours in another heated kiss, tongues rolling together, your moans spilling into his mouth as he lets out his own, breathing them into you. He fucks you with such precision, the drag of his thick cock between your walls pushing you higher and higher, until the flickering heat of euphoria closes in around you.

Breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead to yours, lips curled into a smirk as he begins to murmur utter filth, his voice laced with a taunting edge.

“How does that feel, baby, hmm? Does it feel good?”

You can barely form words, only something high pitched and nearly inaudible leaves you, a breathy squeak that turns into a moan when he purposely thrusts harder, deeper.

“That’s it. You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Need you to cum all over my cock.”

You nod, almost frantic, reaching for him, tugging him down and pressing him as close as possible. The dual stimulation thrums through you, winding tighter and tighter.

“Fuck, please—I’m gonna cum, Noah. Please, please,” you cry out, your fingers buried in his hair, nails scratching down his back as he buries his face against your throat, lips latching on with the clear intent to mark you.

“Such a good girl,” he groans. “That’s it. All over me. Your pussy feels so fucking good. I hope he knows what a lucky guy he is.”

And he doesn’t stop—doesn’t stop praising you, or telling you how good you feel. His voice, his cock, his mouth—it’s all too much, and it drives you right over the edge. Your thighs and body tremble violently as you cum, Noah fucking you through it while your back arches off the bed, riding the wave. You feel the gush of wetness between your thighs, your muscles shaking, and still he talks you through it.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl. Just like that.”

You’re so high, you don’t think you’ll come down. You almost don’t want to, especially not when you feel Noah slip from inside you, making you moan in protest, but the wand stays pressed to your clit until he shuffles down the bed, only removing it to replace it with his mouth.

Before you can whine too much, his tongue is back on you, lapping through your wetness, your thighs still trembling. Just as you try to close them around his head, you feel another set of hands.

Your eyes flutter open—hazy and unfocused, but you manage to make out Folio standing over you, a cheeky grin stretched across his face.

“Didn’t think he’d get to have all the fun now, did you?”

Rounding the bed is Jolly, who climbs up and settles himself near your head. Nicholas follows, taking his place on your other side. Your eyes widen as they fall on the outline of his cock—thick and hard beneath his pants, and you can’t help but wonder how you’ll ever feel the same after experiencing him.

“We promised your friends you’d be in good hands,” Jolly murmurs, brushing back the damp hair clinging to your sweat slick brow.

“And we always keep our promises,” Nicholas adds, his hand slowly exploring your chest, fingers finding your nipples—pinching and twisting with slow, deliberate pressure.

“So what do you say?” Folio leans in, voice playful and dark. “Will you let us give you a night you’ll never forget?”

[concretejunglefm]

Any Version of Noah will moan when he's eating you out. Cause this is just as much for you as it is for him. Like the whole times he's eating he's grinding into the mattress or a pillow, he's getting to send you to heaven while he is tasting it. And you love when his moans make your pussy vibrate.

Noah the munch.

It’s the way, before he’s even started, he’s already teasing, brushing his nose between your folds. It’s a slow burn for you both as he just breathes you in, savouring your scent, wanting nothing more than for it to cling to him. He’s tentative at first—a soft, teasing lick, slow and deliberate, the full flat of his tongue sliding over you. It makes your back arch off the bed, fingers diving into his hair as if you can tug him closer, but he’s taking his time.

He’s already moaning before he even gets a proper taste of you, before he buries his tongue deep inside. He uses everything at his disposal—his mouth, his fingers, even his nose, pressing it against your clit as he tongue fucks you. His eyes are half lidded and hazy, but still locked on yours, because he needs that eye contact. He can’t get enough of seeing what he does to you.

He moans at everything—your taste, the heat of your body, the raw eroticism of the moment, the way you grind down against his mouth so desperately, so needy to cum, and all he can do is press against the mattress and rut into it, or sometimes a pillow, because he knows he’ll be down there a while. When isn’t he?

He’s laser focused on your pleasure, lost in it. He knows every time he moans, especially when his mouth is wrapped around your clit, you feel it, and that only encourages him more, his tongue is relentless, wanting nothing more than to feel the flood of you across it as you cum for him, over and over again.

[concretejunglefm]

priest!noah being desperate to feel you and telling you it’s not a sin if he doesn’t actually fuck you. so he has you laid out on his desk with him between your legs and so deep inside you but he won’t move, just plays with your clit until you cum on him over and over again.

CW: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, penetration, semi-public, blasphemy, power imbalance.

NSFW'ish below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

Some days, it’s fun to play with the power dynamic between you—to lean into the faux forbidden nature of your relationship, to taunt and tease him. Today, it’s easier than ever, because Noah is more desperate than usual, and he doesn’t even try to hide it after calling you into his office.

His sanctuary is the one place you most certainly shouldn’t be fucking him, and yet, it’s happened on more occasions than you could count on one hand. He’d told you the first time you even teased the idea of bending over his desk, “I doubt we’ll be the first or the last.” It had certainly eased any of your concerns, but it had done more than that—it had sparked something in Noah. The idea of this being forbidden, even if only pretend, lit a fire under his skin.

It’s why you’re leaning into it now. Your dress is hiked up to your waist, thighs spread as you bracket Noah between them, gazing up at him with a mixture of adoration and lust. Soft moans spill from your red coated lips as you cup his cheek, smearing lipstick on the corner of his kiss bruised mouth.

“You really wanna fuck me, sweet boy?” you murmur.

He can barely make a sound beyond a broken moan. His hips jolt, and you feel the push of his cock sinking deeper, twitching and throbbing as you squeeze yourself tighter around him.

“You know you shouldn’t…”

“I know…” he stammers, completely awash in pleasure. He looks like he’s struggling to hold back, and the way his fingers dig into your thighs tells you that he is. “It’s a sin…” he whispers, quiet like it’s a shameful secret.

Your lips curl into a smirk. Wrapping your legs around him, you press your heels against his ass, deliberately pulling him closer. “Exactly. That’s why we can only do this.”

“And I can do this…” he breathes, his voice fractured between moans. One hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and circling it slowly, teasing, just enough to push you toward the edge.

Your head tilts back on his desk as a moan breaks loose, your walls squeezing around him with a growing need that builds inside you like a tidal wave. “That’s it, baby, just like that…” you moan out, pleasure bubbling up in your core. Your back arches off the desk as Noah’s fingers press harder against your sensitive nub, making your hips buck and roll, fucking yourself against him, unable to stop, craving more—craving him.

Your hand finds the rosary dangling from around his neck. Gripping it like a leash, you tug him down until your mouths collide in something hot and hungry, a kiss that feels like sin and salvation all at once.

[concretejunglefm]

Hiiii

I hope you're having a great day...i was scrolling your posts and can we talk about ivy's scrumptious body? i know he has the whole bakery but those massive hands...strong neck...and chest.

I have this idea...One night he came home after rehearsal for new tour and reader gave him the most relaxing sexy time. Slow and tortuous with lots of body praise and maybe choking while she's on top until he finishes on her tummy. Please? 🥺

Ivy whoreshiper anon 🫶

We can always talk about the deliciousness that is Ivy, baby!!! The way you just want to eat him up when you see him, and that’s exactly how it feels when you catch him after coming home from rehearsal. He’s all buzzed up with adrenaline from what’s to come, and you’re practically vibrating just seeing him like this—so excited when it comes to playing music. idk if this is entirely what you had in mind, but i hope you enjoy bb 💕

CW: includes mentions of body worshiping, soft talking, unprotected sex, light choking/breath play.

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

“Fuck, baby, I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slow and sensual as his hands wander beneath the shirt you’re wearing.

“Let’s take this off. I need to touch you. To see you.” His mouth moves along your jaw, down the column of your neck, and breaks away only to slip your shirt up and over your head.

His hands return, slowly brushing along every dip and curve as he pulls you closer. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, returning to your lips and guiding you toward the bed. “Lay back for me?”

You nod, breath already shallow, a soft smile curving your lips.

“You’re looking pretty handsome yourself,” you tease, fingers gliding through his hair, pushing it back before he captures your hands, pressing a kiss to the inside of each wrist. Then, slowly, he pushes them down onto the mattress, pinning them above you.

“That’s sweet, baby, but this is about you right now.”

A faint smirk plays at the corner of his lips, and it sends a shiver through you, makes you squirm beneath him as he uses his knee to part your thighs and slip between them. Dipping forward, he brushes his mouth against your chest, kissing over the swell of your breast before trailing lower, down your sternum, over your stomach, his fingers finding the waistband of your pants and easing them down off you, as his mouth never leaves your skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch, soft sounds spilling from your lips.

From between your thighs, he looks up at you—like he’s marvelling at you, before making his way back up, meeting your mouth in another slow, sensual kiss. It makes you crave more of him, the dance of his tongue igniting something hot and needy deep inside you.

“I want you to ride me tonight,” he whispers into the kiss, making you moan in response, your body arching. Your hands finally move, gripping at him—fingers grazing along his shoulders, slipping into his hair.

“I want to see every inch of you. Please. I want to touch you…” His hands follow his words, roaming across your body.

“To kiss you…” His mouth follows the same path, pressing a kiss to your collarbone and dragging back along your neck.

“I want all of you.”

Before you can respond, his hands slip beneath you and roll you both over. He guides you into place, straddling him, his mouth level with your chest, leaving kisses wherever he can reach as he shimmies out of his clothing and helps you out of your panties.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mumbles against your breast, teasing your nipple with his mouth. His hands glide over your hips, squeeze, then slip around your back to pull you closer.

“Every inch.”

You can feel how hard he is beneath you, your hips rocking as you slowly glide your slick folds along his shaft. A hand slips down between you, gripping him and guiding him to you.

“Fuck,” he gasps, head falling back against the pillow, pleasure washing over his face as he watches you from beneath heavy lids, slowly sinking down onto him.

“That’s it… slow… every inch now…” he murmurs, guiding you with hands at your sides. Your head tilts back, a low moan escaping as he fills you to the hilt, your hips beginning to grind slowly, holding him snug and deep inside.

Your walls tighten around him, trembling from the sensation.

“So pretty. So beautiful…” he whispers, kissing at your chest and neck again, his hands slipping up to cup your breasts with a soft squeeze. “It’s like you were perfectly made for me.”

And you believe it—in the way he feels inside you, the way his hands burn against your skin, how a simple touch from him can make your whole body tremble. He makes you weak in the best way.

You begin to move, slow rolls of your hips as he caresses your breasts, whispering praise and gentle instruction against your skin. He guides you, helping you find your rhythm.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, and your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him close as he worships every inch of you while you ride him.

It’s a slow build, something gradual and intoxicating until you find the pace that makes your body sing. Then you start to bounce slightly with more confidence, his hands never stopping—gliding over your thighs, hips, ass, your curves, savouring every inch of you.

One hand rises to your throat, fingers wrapping gently around it, waiting until your eyes meet his. When you nod, he applies just the slightest pressure.

It’s dizzying—the rush of it, the heat that floods your body when he lets go. You moan, loud and wanton, and he takes your hand, kisses your palm, your fingers, then guides it to his own throat.

“Oh, you want me to do it to you?” you tease, playful.

He just breathes out a soft “please,” his eyes pleading.

You mirror his move, fingers finding the spot, applying just enough pressure as you ride him harder, watching the way his eyes roll back, listening to his ragged gasps. When you release, you see how close he is—right on the edge.

“Again…” he pleads, and you obey, applying the pressure once more. His fingers dig into your hips, guiding your movements faster, his own hips bucking to meet you, fucking up into you as his climax builds.

Then, quickly, he rolls you both over, slips free just in time to press his cock to your stomach, spilling hot and thick across your skin as he trembles through his release. You wrap your arms around him, pressing kisses to his jaw, guiding him through it with soft touches, fingers in his hair, grounding him as he comes down from the high.

[concretejunglefm]

pool sex w/ himbo!noah

pure smut and self indulges. me offering you this snippet as a way of giving you permission to yell at me into finishing it because it’s been sat there in my drafts ever since I started it 🤲

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

You’re not sure how you went from playing mermaids to this, but suddenly your back is pressed to the wall of the pool, thick thighs wrapped tightly around Noah’s waist as he kisses you—hungry, needy, his tongue pushing into your mouth, licking inside like he’s chasing the taste of you.

The sounds he makes are nearly obscene, only adding to your already lust fogged haze, while your hands roam across his shoulders, biceps, and back, nails dragging over his wet skin. Beneath the water, his fingers tug at the strings of your bikini bottoms, and you can feel the way his hips roll, grinding into you with firm, unrelenting pressure, spurred on by that deep seated hunger and need.

“Noah,” you gasp between kisses, breaking away only for a breath, but not for long. His mouth finds yours again, only to trail along your jaw and down your throat, answering your plea with a soft, reverent hum.