#Deepen Relaxation

[chickenisamazing]

The teen shed a tear after asking me if I thought she was annoying and then telling me she liked me a lot help

[serranoraymond123]

It’s a great chance to connect, learn from each other, and create lasting memories. Ultimately, sharing a meal with friends and a teacher strengthens bonds and deepens relationships.

Eating with friends and a teacher is a fun and meaningful experience that brings everyone closer. Whether it's a casual meal , creates a relaxed environment where everyone can talk freely.

Friends share laughs and stories, while the teacher offers valuable insights and advice. This setting helps break down the usual classroom boundaries, fostering a sense of mutual respect

[sttoru]

pls pls pls 🥹 older bf! gojo fucking the attitude out of his gf

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru picks you up after your lecture to spend quality time with you, only to realise you got an attitude that needs some fixing.

tags. dom older bf!gojo x female reader. smut, pwp but also with plot. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). rough. hints of degradation. p in v -> unprotected. standing doggy. semi-public. spanking. hair pulling. name calling. creampīe. nicknames ‘princess, baby’. wc: 3.2k

“mind telling me who that was, baby?” satoru asks while he fixes his sunglasses. he pushes his hair back a little, walking beside you through campus. you had just finished your study session with a boy who’s in your statistics class. your lovely boyfriend offered to pick you up and take you back home after that.

though, despite the kind gesture, you’re still visibly stressed after revising the material. your mind is occupied with all sorts of stuff you need to know before your exam on thursday.

“just a classmate,” you respond curtly, not even looking at satoru. you’re speeding ahead of him, wanting to rush home already. you nibble on your bottom lip and your brows are furrowed due to the distress, “why do you care?”

that sentence came out harsher than you had expected it to. you don’t mean to be bitchy, but you’re under too much stress at the moment. your body reacts before you can withstand it.

satoru is silent for a few seconds. he’s surprised by the tone of voice you used. he keeps on following you, however, not letting your little comment ruin the conversation. he’s there to help you, not to make you even more upset.

which is why he tries to lighten the mood.

“oh?” satoru chuckles, his dimples showing. he easily keeps up with you, his long legs carrying him around quite fast. the white haired man pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear ever so gently, “did someone upset my little princess today?”

you don’t answer him. you’re focused on your phone, hurriedly texting your friend back while speeding past all the other students. you don’t even notice how the girls are gawking at your man—whispering about how handsome he is and who he might be.

satoru doesn’t pay them any mind. his sole goal is to gain your attention back. he frowns after his question is met with silence. the clicking of his dress shoes increases as he tries to get you to stop and face him.

“c’mon,” your boyfriend sighs and stands in front of you, stopping you to an abrupt halt. he holds your wrist tenderly yet firmly, letting you know that he wants to properly communicate with you, “y’ can’t ignore me.”

you yank your hand back, your irritated attitude visible in your actions. you look up at satoru, not caring about what he thinks or wants at the moment. you just want to go home and relax. everything is overstimulating you.

“i can and i will,” you huff before stepping aside to continue your journey out of the university’s terrain. your boyfriend’s frown only deepens. you’re not the only one who’s currently getting agitated. you push past a group of students who stood in your way, “let’s just go home.”

satoru’s eyes narrow. he doesn’t get upset fast—he rarely feels any kind of anger—but right now he can feel something itching inside of his chest. he’s tried not to let the jealousy get the best of him at first, but now with all the other emotions coming into play, it’s nearly impossible to hold himself back.

satoru considers himself a fairly mature man. he’s always been one, yet when it comes to you he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t have any control over his emotions. his body and mind act on their own.

“aht aht. not so fast, little lady.”

you suddenly feel yourself being dragged to the side. satoru’s grip around your arm isn’t harsh, but it sure is enough to make you stumble along with him. you click your teeth in slight annoyance after the initial shock settles in. you know there’s no fighting it; you don’t want others to witness your little squabble.

“hey, where are we going?” you ask, a slight whine leaving your throat. you simply want to go lay in your bed and avoid everything and everyone else. your eyes are focused on the back of satoru’s head as he guides you along. he doesn’t bother to face nor answer you.

you sigh and simply allow yourself to be dragged away. if you’re going to get a scolding, you don’t mind. you’re just going to hear him out and nod along so you can go back home faster.

you raise an eyebrow when satoru arrives at the bathroom on the second floor. “what the—” you’re confused as to what your boyfriend is trying to achieve. you quickly look around to see if anyone has seen you.

no one seems to be close. this part of the building has always been empty around this time frame anyway.

you’re pulled into the men’s bathroom after satoru made sure that the coast was clear. he gently pushes you into an empty stall and locks the door. “satoru, what’s up with you?” you sigh as you stumble back against the bathroom wall. it’s a hypocritical comment considering your own nasty attitude.

you try to push him aside, only for your boyfriend to force your arms around his neck, pulling you flush against him. your eyes lock into his and that’s when you notice how . . dark they are. the usual playful look is nowhere to be found.

“i’m just thinkin’ that y’r attitude needs some fixing, hm?” satoru whispers. a ghost of a smirk appears on his face—it’s a twisted one. wicked, with the thoughts of what he’ll do to punish you for your actions. he rarely has that expression when he’s with you.

he tips your chin up with quite some force, “i can help with that.”

everything else happens at a blink of an eye. one of satoru’s large hands slithers up your back to tangle in your hair and yank it back, exposing the column of your throat for his hickeys to take shape on. his other hand swiftly makes work of your pants and undergarments.

his jaw is clenched—the usual hint of gentle love in his eyes is replaced by lust fuelled by jealousy and frustration. satoru is not playing around either. instead of taking his time like he usually does when it comes to intimacy, he’s quick to discard both your clothing.

“fuckin’ tease,” the white-haired man mutters under his breath, panting with desire. he zips down his pants and frees his big cock from his boxers. “always pushing my buttons. isn’t that right, baby?”

satoru lets out a breathy, mocking chuckle. he fists the shaft slowly while his blue eyes roam over your body caged against him and the wall, “but i guess tha’s part of the reason why i love you—hah.”

you’re basically in shock at the sudden switch. your jaw is slack and your eyes are wide, but there’s an undeniable feeling in your chest that tells you you’re loving this change. you can’t deny the fact that you’re turned on. extremely turned on.

“‘toru, i don’t think it’s smart to do this here,” you murmur in a small voice. you’re trying to have some dignity, even now, when your panties are soaked and the scent of your obvious arousal is driving your man crazy.

“don’t care,” satoru shakes his head with a smug grin. his long fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear before flimsily tugging them down to your ankles. his eyes darken the second he sees the webs of sticky, translucent slick clinging from your panties to your puffy folds.

he grunts, his cock twitching painfully in his hand. he’s thinking of simply jerking off to the sight of you in front of him, but he decided otherwise. satoru smacks your clit with his fat tip, “should’ve thought about that before catchin’ an attitude with me.”

suddenly, he turns you around so you’re facing the wall. your nails dig into the flat surface of the tiles, catching onto nothing. you’re hoping that no one will walk into the bathroom. last thing you need is everyone knowing that you were getting your back blown out by your boyfriend on campus.

not that satoru would mind those rumors. it’d only fuel his (already) huge ego.

“oh, yeah— shit. you need this ‘s much as i do,” satoru groans as sinks his cock into your pussy, agonisingly slow, inch by inch. you shudder and hold in your moans as your velvety walls make part for him.

his hands spread your pert asscheeks, smacking the full globes before kneading them to soothe the pain. he continues in a low, dangerous voice, “you wouldn’t be so stuck up if y’ didn’t need this fuckin’ dick to shut you up.”

satoru doesn’t stop pushing in until his heavy balls are resting snugly against your bottom, warming his sack full of cum that’s aching to be released in your dripping cunt.

“ngh, ‘toru,” you bite your lip and try not to orgasm just from the feeling of being full— so full of cock that it makes you see stars, “just like that.”

the white-haired man responds with a satisfied grunt, sweat forming on his forehead from how hot and wet it is inside of you.

“oh, there she is,” satoru coos once he hears your whiny voice, that sweet voice he cherishes and loves. it isn’t cold nor avoidant anymore like before and that’s really all he wanted to acquire. he licks a stripe from the tip of your ear to the lobe, voice husky, “there’s the girlfriend i know. moan some more f’ me.”

you shiver as satoru’s lips connect with the back of your neck. after wetting the skin with his saliva, he bites. not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark. you clamp around his dick in response and he curses under his breath.

“please, fuck me,” you breathe. you need more stimulation, need him to absolutely ruin you. the shallow and slow thrusts he’s giving are nothing but torturous.

satoru grins and rests his chin on top of your shoulder, large hands rubbing around your hips and lower abdomen, teasing your clit every now and then to get you even more pent up.

“fuck you?” he tilts his head, as if contemplating. he clicks his tongue and gives your ass a firm slap that nearly sends you over the edge. “hah, you should be grateful for what i’m givin’ you.”

but satoru’s weak for you. even if he’s trying to be the ‘mean’ and ‘cold’ dominant guy. his cock is aching to plunge in and out of your wet hole, to see you come undone and feel your juices coat his balls and thighs.

“fine. i’ll fuck you,” satoru relents with a roll of his eyes, acting like he isn’t desperate for you too. he grips your hips in a bruising manner and bites your shoulder, “—fuck you like the brat you are.”

your hands save your face from making contact with the wall as your body suddenly jostles back and forth in a speed you can’t even process.

“satoru!” you nearly scream his name out of pure surprise. the pleasure comes crashing down in waves, your pussy uncontrollably spasming around his girthy cock.

satoru grumbles something incoherent as he pistons his hips, ramming in your sloppy cunt while his eyes are fixated on your bouncing ass. white locks of hair stick to his forehead as he splits you open on his dick.

“so pretty,” the older man sighs. he turns your head sideways so you can look him in the eyes while he fucks you silly. he caresses your cheek gently, a contrast to the mocking grin on his lips and the rough thrusts against your ass, “too bad y’ got such a potty mouth on you.”

satoru pushes his index and middle finger between your lips to muffle your noises, “…but don’t worry, i’ll fix that for you. gladly.”

you eagerly suck on them between quick gasps of air, saliva trickling down his hand. your boyfriend redoubles his efforts, the fat tip of his dick hitting that special spot deep inside you.

his free hand reaches down to circle your clit. the double stimulation sends you into a state of pure bliss. your pupils are dilated as you struggle to find satoru’s gaze, head lolling back and forth with each powerful stroke.

perhaps this really was all you needed to help destress and forget all about your responsibilities. it feels good to not think about anything at all— your head empty except for the feeling of your cunt being filled.

satoru’s cock twitches inside of you with the urge to release a load in your womb. “give me it, please,” your voice is muffled as you plead with him. your hand sneaks downwards, trying to find his balls, “w-want your cum.”

your fingers toy with his sack once you find it. his pre-cum and your own juices now coat your skin as well, your hand enclosing around his balls, massaging them. it’s like you’re trying to coax his potent semen out of them and that alone makes satoru throw his head back in ecstasy.

“little cumslut. . .” satoru growls, brows furrowing as he tries not to shoot his cum inside of your greedy cunt right that second. the hand that was keeping you quiet quickly snatches your wrist and pins it against the bathroom wall.

“are you that desperate to get filled? yeah?” your boyfriend huffs, not stopping to catch his breath at all. his hips pound faster against your ass with renewed passion.

your lips are parted and they move, but not a single answer comes out of your mouth. you’re unable to think or talk because of the pleasure.

satoru takes that as a yes. the erotic sight of you being so lost in sin is enough to fuel his desire to fuck you harder. his hips never falter as he scoffs at your pathetic self, “tch, so addicted to my cock y’ can’t even answer me.”

you shake your head and search for your words. however, you fail, and all that you’re capable of communicating is what you need, “fuuuuck, yes i am—‘toru, need your cock ‘n cum— more.”

satoru lets go of your wrist to grab your jaw. he forces your head back again before he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. his tongue plunders inside your mouth, exploring every inch.

he pulls back to gasp for air and releases your jaw with a slight shove to grab your hips again. “more? hah,” the white-haired man lets out a haughty chuckle. he gives a particular hard thrust against your butt, tip kissing your cervix painfully yet deliciously, “y’ think you deserve more after that shit you pulled?”

satoru yanks your head back by your hair. the stinging sensation makes your scalp itchy, but it also increases your pleasure. he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice dangerously low, “nah, you gotta make this work.”

you could. you can make it work and that’s the truth. he could fuck you with just his tip and you’d be able to cum a couple times in a row.

jolts of pleasure run down your spine as satoru drives into you harder, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. you’re seeing stars and the words roll off your tongue, “please, mhh, almost there!”

satoru groans. he can feel the delicious fluttering of your cunt around his cock, the telltale signs of an orgasm building. he has half a mind to pull out completely and let you writhe and beg him some more.

he contemplates it for a few seconds. the second your eyes start to roll back, signaling your impending climax, his cock slips out of your pussy. you whine and push your hips back in search for his dick- to fill the void he left.

satoru jerks himself off at the pitiful sight. he rubs his veiny shaft between your slick folds before slapping the tip against your cunt, letting it catch onto your entrance for a few times.

“begging like that isn’t going to get you anywhere. y’ can do better,” your boyfriend encourages in a sultry tone. one of his hands rest on your tummy, fingers splaying over your clothed skin. another filthy smack of his tip against your slit makes you shiver, “come on.”

you bite your lip out of frustration. you arch your back each time the fat head of his cock catches onto your gaping hole, hoping to slip it in, but you can't. you tilt your head back and lock eyes with satoru close up behind you.

“please let me cum, 'toru. i'll be good, i promise,” you beg with a lewd pleading expression. one that make satoru's balls tighten with the urge to cum as well.

with a low groan, satoru snaps his hips forward, burying his dick inside of you once more, “there ya go. good girl, knew y’ had it in you.”

the praise and familiar feeling of his dick stretching you open is enough to push you over the edge. you nearly black out as your cunt spasms around him, your juices gushing out to coat his length and balls.

satoru grits his teeth once he feels your tight cunt clench viciously around his throbbing cock. your orgasm has a domino effect on your lover, causing him to hastily chase his own release. “shit! take it, princess. take it all inside this greedy fuckin' cunt,” he hisses and grinds his pelvis against the fat of your ass.

satoru buries himself to the hilt before his cock jerks and pulses, emptying his balls deep inside of you. his fingers dig into the meat of your butt, holding you in place as he grinds against you, making sure every last drop of his seed is nestled into your waiting womb.

“there y’ go, mhm—taking my load so deep,” your lover sighs and lowers his head, resting against your back. he hugs you tightly to his chest while you both catch your breath. he rides out his orgasm slowly, still grinding against you while he leaves lazy kisses on your nape.

a minute passes before you've regained your composure, somewhat. you smile as satoru kisses your temple lovingly, praising you for taking him so well. the switch back to his usual gentleman personality is much needed after such an intense moment.

“thank you, babe. i needed that,” you giggle as you rest back against his chest. thick, pearly globs of cum escape your pussy, dripping around his cock and onto your thighs, but neither of you could care less. the clean up is a problem for later.

satoru chuckles back at you as he leaves another loving kiss against your cheek. “i knew you did,” he murmurs and pets your head, “my poor girl has been working so hard on her assignments, hm? poor, poor baby.”

you playfully roll your eyes at the overexaggerated concern in your lover's voice, however you appreciate it.

satoru doesn't bother to pull out. first things first; he needs to get you all comfortable again and give you the aftercare you deserve. his hands massage your hips as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, acting all lovey-dovey like he hasn't just shown you a more dominant side of him.

“how ‘bout we go home and order some food? we can cuddle and watch a movie together, ‘kay? i’ll take care of you, princess.”

[oreo-creampies]

𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Daddy/mama/brat etc…., overstimulation, breeding/creampie, riding, wall sex, full Nelson, mirror sex, praise/degradation, some mind break/dumbification, mention of a belly bulge (from satoru’s cum and cock), begging, possessive, size kink, squirting, knife play (no blood or cutting)

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 my pussy ✨

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Lining Kento up with your sensitive wet little hole. Losing your mind over how thick he is. Too big for your fingers to touch. “My hungry little cock sleeve missed me this much? Barely letting me take my clothes off before your licking the sweat off my cock and trying to take me in your soaking wet cunt.” Messaging your cheeks with his large rough warm hand. Holding your hip, slowly swiping his thumb in small circles.

You can’t get enough of how it feels to be touched by Kento Nanami. His touch is firm, gentle, warm, comforting and exhilarating. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout you non stop daddy!” The pinch in his brow smoothes, a lazy smirk tugging on his slips.

Tightening his grasp on your hip, his thick fingers sinking in your hip’s squishy crease. Kento roughly sliding you down on his fat, veiny cock. “Who am I?” Roughly smacking your ass, once, twice, your cunt clenching on the third.

Firmly grabbing your hips, guiding your tight hot cunt on his cock. Sliding your hand down his rock hard, cheilsted chest. Sinking your nails into his abs when he flexes, the lines deepening. “Tell me or I'm stopping, who’s fucking your tight cunt into a sloppy mess?”

You whine, “Daaaadddy isss! Daddy’s fat cock is stretching my cunt out, reaching so deep. I can feel your veins pulse, the shape of your head, nnnn you’re so deep! Right there daddy please keep bouncing me on your cock! You’re so strong!” Wrapping your arms around Kento when he stands.

Softly tugging on his soft blond hair, scratching his freckled backside. “You’ve been such a beautiful house wife, it due time I make you a mama.” Your cunt throbs, fluttering around him at the thought.

Needing one arm to hold you up, he wraps grabs a handful of your hair. Pulling your head back, looking up into his beautiful face, relaxed in pussy drunken bliss. He croon, “Am I your big strong daddy? Does my beautiful mama love it when I fuck her like a slut?”

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

You’re helpless in his firm grasp, your legs pinned by your sides by his muscular arms. Toji’s large hands are clasped behind your head forcing you to look into the vanity mirror. “Look at ya sloppy little cunt, it was so small now it's taking my monster cock like it’s made for it.”

His cock always looks too big to fit, yet your soft squishy cunt takes him perfectly every time. You’re split open in a perfect circle, your puffy lips dragging along his cock when he pulls out. His heavy balls bouncing with each thrusts memorizing.

He gruffily demands, “Who’s slut are are you?” Your cunt flutters around his cock, spasming, gushing thick cum. Squirting all over his bed, some of your slick trickling down soaking his cum filled balls.

His cock head hitting your already aching bruised cervix threatening to do deeper. Could he? Loudly moaning, “Daddy’s! I'm daddy’s slut! Please! Please cum!” He groans, his fat cock’s veins throbbing.

He glides his cock out, “Fuck! Ya daddy’s little slut huh? Keep talkin’ like that and ya gonna make me cum too quickly. N’ after I made sure to jerk off with your panties so I can last longer in your lil super soaker.” Effortlessly sitting up, easing you out of the full Nelson. Holding you up, lining his cock up, gliding himself into your soft, squishy cunt.

Curling your toes, eyes rolling back, jaw dropping. “Too much! Please don't stop wanna be a good girl for Daddy! Please! Cum! Daddy! Please! Cum daaaaadddy!” Attempting to wiggle off Toji’s thick cock, your attempts are a pathetic shifting of your hips.

Toji stands up, fucking his thick, veiny cock into you harder. “Damanding little brat, after I cum I’m taping a vibator to your clit so I can smoke n’ have a drink watchin’ you whine and cum till your lil cunt breaks.” Tightening his grasp on your thigh, grabbing your hair holding your head still.

“Watch daddy fuck his cunt into a gapping cum filled mess.” He groans, looking handsome balls deep in your cunt. His thick arms, broad chest, and muscular thighs, Toji is a massive beautiful man having his way with your cunt.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Tightening his grasp on your neck, pinning your thigh to the wall. Your other leg hooked around Satoru’s waist. “Dont even need to listen to you beg, your cunt is doing it for you. Hear how wet she is? Your little cunt keeps on cumming, soaking n’ gripping my cock.” Your cunt loudly squelches when he glides his long veiny cock in.

“Seems like no matter how much I cum my cock is keeping getting hard again. It’s all your fault. Sending me those sexy pictures and videos of you playing with yourself making my cock and balls ache.” Some of his thick cum is dripping out, your stomach’s bulge grows when he stuffs you with his cock.

Loosening his firm grasp on your neck, grabbing your other thigh. Pinning it and leaning back looking down watching slowly his thrusts down. He croons, “Aw I filled my your little cunt is too full of my cum, it's all dripping out no matter much I fucked it deeper!” He groans, it’s breathy ending in a needy whine.

Barely catching your breath, whimpering “Daddy please! I can't cum anymore!” Rapidly picking up speed with each hard thrust, till he’s moving faster than than the machine he’s gotten to watch you get fucked with.

Leaning in close, grabbing your chin, tilting your head back. His messy white hair falling into his beautiful sky blue eyes you swear have clouds in them. “Oh you can't? That’s too bad my poor little princess will have to keep taking Daddy’s cock in her broken little cunt anyway.” Roughly kissing you, slipping his tongue into your mouth, tasting of sweets and your cunt.

Biting your lip, stopping when you cry, your cunt clenching his sensitive cock. You can feel his veins throbbings, he’s close but that doesn't mean he’s done. Tilting his head back, his beautiful neck covered in lipstick and red hickies he won’t cover.

His jaw drops, he drops his head, pressing his forehead to your’s. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck! You’re getting so tight! Mmmm you’re daddy’s little slut, my beautiful whore. Tell me who I am when I’m fucking your cunt into a sloppy mess.” Leaning back, stroking your clit with his thumb.

“You’re my-my! Nnnn!” You’re too cock drunk to get the words out. Whining, your cunt spamsing the intensity of your sore, sensitive cunt cumming for an unknownth time too much for you.

Satoru croons, “My my what? You said it? Whined it so beautifully it almost made me cum. You’re so fucking adorable, sexy, beautiful and needy, who else better to make me a daddy?”

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Holding a knife to your neck, fucking your your sloppy cunt like he hates you. Suguru’s harsh, quick thrust too intense for your poor sensitive cunt to take. Closing your eyes, “Daaaady nnnn you feelsooogood! You’re cock! Nnnnn you’re!! Ahh!! Daddy!!” He fucks you harder with every word you utter till you’re a whimpering mess.

Dragging the sharp knife’s tip down your neck, between your breasts. Slowly sliding it closer towards your nipple, grabbing your jaw. “I need you to look your daddy in the eyes beautiful, it gets me off seeing the sexy look on your pretty face when you cum, let me see you cum for the tenth time.” You’re so close.

His pierced tongue, his thick fingers and his beautiful fat cock have spoiled you. Swiping the cool knife over your sensitive nipple. “Ahhhnnn dadddy.” You can feel the strong vibrations of your butt plug in your cunt.

His thick, being cock stroking all the right spots. “Squirt on Daddy’s cock.” Gushing on Suguru’s thick cock, soaking his balls hitting your ass. Slick trickling down to the toy pulsing in your other hole. He relentlessly, fucking you through your intense high.

Your mind shattering, eyes rolling back. Suguru groans, “That’s it! Good lil’ cock slut!” His smirking, groaning he knows how beautiful he is.

Holding his long, luscious hair back, thick longs framing his beautiful, angular face. A hungry, cocky smirk on his parted lips, the pink flush of his cheeks. And the loving passion in his warm honey brown eyes.

Tightening his grasp on your hip, stopping your pitiful attempt to run away from Suguru’s cock. “Where you going? Daddy isn't done with you yet, you got me hard for another round now ya gotta be a good girl n’ take it.” Setting the knife aside, grabbing your hair leaning down.

He’s too tall forcing you to look up. Using his weight and his firm grasp on your hip to keep you pinned beneath him. Legs spread for him to beat up your sloppy cunt with his hard cock. You can't believe he is all your’s.

“Nnn I can take it, wanna take daddy’s fat cock, wanna be filled with your warm cum. Please daddy, you didn't fill me up last time. N’ I've been good! Wanna! Wanna feel you cum, please!” Letting his hair go, swiping it to one side to make a thick curtain.

“That’s why you’re daddy’s good girl huh? Nnnnfuckmamafuck tell me who’s gonna make a beautiful mama.” His thick veins pulsing he’s so close.

[flvvffy]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . ❝ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐔𝐏, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘...❞

wc: 628. not proofread. anon.

you were not much of a talker. and you boyfriend suguru knew that. he understood that. and because of that, he learned that small actions were signals that you wanted something.

you would stare at something for way too long at the store and he knew you liked it. you wouldn't take your eyes off of it until he grabbed your attention. "you like it, baby", he would ask, his height towering over you and playing with your hair.

"yeah..."

"do you want it?", you only stare at him, not really wanting to say anything. you didn't want to be ungrateful. "it's okay I'll buy it for you", he flashed you a smile and gave you a small peck on the cheek before taking it off the shelf and paying for it.

when you want to cuddle, you would walk up to hin and grab his hand then lead him onto the bed or the couch. he would lay with you, your head resting on his chest listening to his heartbeat as he's caressing your thigh and kissing the top of your heard occasionally whispering sweet nothings.

sometimes you just sit on his lap when you want attention while he's either working or playing video games. he smiles and presses a soft kiss on your lips as you make yourself comfy. "you're gonna have all my attention when i'm done, cutie"

suguru almost always catches you staring at his food whenever you're out to eat. your boyfriend's food just looks so much more scrumptious. you try to make it subtle but he sees it. he picks some up with his fork/spoon/chopsticks and places it near your mouth. "say ahhhh....", he says and you open your mouth taking a bite of his food. it really was delicious.

"it's really good", you say and he smiles.

"mhmmm... if you want we can eat together", he pushes his plate between the both of you. you just can't help but think how sweet he is.

you always help suguru relax after he comes back from work. completely exhausted and all suguru can think of is enjoying a nice dinner and bath then cuddling with you on your shared bed.

although he understands that you're too shy to express yourself to him at times, that doesn't mean he's not gonna tease you.

you walk up to suguru and tug on his sleeve. he knows that means that you want a kiss, but he's gonna act clueless, just because he can. "what's the matter sweatheart?", he asks a stupid smirk on his face.

"uhh...", you're trying to come up with words but nothing. so you just stare at him and tug at his sleeve again, hoping he got the message this time.

"sweetie, i'm not just gonna understand you if you don't talk", he plays with the ends of your hair and you feel lile combusting. why was he doing this to you?

you sat in silence again but nothing. realizing that he really wasn't gonna do anything, you breathe out and gather your words. "i-i....want a...kiss", you say quietly.

"what's that? i didn't hear you. speak up pretty...", your heart is beating more rapidly now and your cheeks are getting warmer. but he's not showing signs of mercy.

frustrated you let it all out. "i want a kiss, suguru", he chuckles.

"you could've just said so", he pulls you by your waist, placing one hand behind your neck and placing a soft but passionate kiss on your awaiting lips. he pulls you impossibly closer to you, deepening the kiss only letting go to take in a breathe before tasting your addictive lips again.

suguru pulls away, the both of you breatheless, his forehead on yours. "that wasn't so hard now was it?..."

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝐅𝐋𝐕𝐕𝐅𝐅𝐘

[simonz-angel]

simon with a staring problem for his pretty plushie roommate 🍆

his pupils shrink tight, before blowing wide, irises flicking over you. n his head pumps full of vile, lewd thoughts. you’re all of just sitting across from him, relaxed back onto the plush couch cushions. but your skin looks so soft, so mailable, and the way your tits droop apart, falling down near your sides… fuck.

his trying to reel his way back in, rope in his building thoughts, painting such descriptive pictures in the fuzzy, warm mush of his brain. but then your thick, doughy thighs part.

and he watches in hunger, eyes darkening as they slip down over the gooey folds of your pretty stomach. and it’s cruel, the way your thin little shorts bunch.

bunch tight up between the warmth of your cunt, giving him a fuckin view of your puffy, pudgy pussy. and his mouth salivates, teeth grinding before he’s blowing a deep breath out wide nostrils.

and he’s suddenly tense, desperate to rise up off the couch, balls aching in a need to have your pussy molded around him, to have his tongue playing with you as you drip down his chin like a sugary syrup.

but your foot stops him, and he takes note of your pretty, painted toes. his whole body burns, head spinning and stomach rolling in something of nausea?

“where’re you going, si?” and his eyes fall to your face, feigning a sweet innocence that has his cock leaking. your lips fall flat into a soft pout, head tilted to the side quizzically, and the soft apples of your fatty cheeks dimple with your deepening pout. he wants to dig his fingers in tight, separate the tissue and open your mouth up wide, let you choke… no. god.

but when his body falls flat against the couch, sweat already building at his fuckin hairline is when your toes slip higher, your ankle rolls, and he watches red-faced when you press between the v of his pelvis.

i’ll be getting to your guys asks soon i promise i promise please don’t hate me my angels

[kaiist]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐌𝐈𝐃-𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

The tension between you and Xavier had been building for the past ten minutes. The living room felt smaller with each passing second, the space between you charged with unspoken frustrations. He remained still as always while you gesticulated wildly, your frustration mounting as you paced back and forth.

“You can’t just disappear for hours without telling me, Xavier! I was worried sick!” Your voice cracked on the last word, betraying how genuinely frightened you’d been.

He stood with perfect posture by the window, hands clasped behind his back. “I apologize. I was helping a neighbor downstairs with their computer system. Time escaped me.” The words were perfectly reasonable, delivered in that maddeningly measured tone he always used.

His calm demeanor only fueled your irritation. How could he be so composed when you’d been imagining the worst? Fatal accidents. Hospital rooms. All the terrible possibilities that had played through your mind on repeat.

“That’s not the point!” you snapped, closing the distance between you. “This is the third time this week you’ve vanished without a word. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To call and text and get nothing back?”

Standing this close, you noticed subtle changes in his expression—his eyebrows furrowed slightly and the corner of his mouth turned down just enough to be noticeable. The tiny muscle along his jaw twitched, and you caught the quickening pulse at his neck despite his outward composure. These microexpressions—so small anyone else would miss them—revealed the emotions he struggled to articulate.

“I didn’t intend to cause distress,” he said quietly, and for once, his voice carried a hint of genuine regret. “The repair was more complex than anticipated. The family had lost access to critical medical records.”

“Oh, so you’re suddenly a mechanic or something?” You exhaled sharply, running your hands through your hair. “Just... call next time. Or text. Anything.”

His eyes met yours, searching. “The thought didn’t occur to me. That was... an oversight.”

Something in his admission—the rare acknowledgment of an emotional mistake rather than a logical error—made your frustration shift into something else entirely. You suddenly become aware of how close you were standing, you can faintly smell the subtle scent of his cologne. Your anger was still there, but beneath it stirred something warmer.

Without thinking, you stepped forward, fingers gripping the soft fabric of his hoodie, and pressed your lips firmly against his. For a moment, everything froze—the argument, your racing thoughts, even time itself.

Xavier went completely still, clearly caught off guard by this abrupt change. You felt the slight intake of his breath against your lips, the momentary tension in his shoulders. Then, like ice melting in the sun, he yielded. His shoulders relaxed, and his hands—initially hovering uncertainly—found their way to your waist, steady and warm through the fabric of your shirt.

The kiss lingered longer than you’d intended, your anger dissolving with each passing second. His lips were surprisingly soft, with the faint taste of the mint tea he always drank in the evenings. What had started as impulse deepened into something tender, the physical connection saying everything words had failed to express between you.

When you finally pulled back, his eyes were wider than usual, pupils slightly dilated. Xavier’s carefully composed expression had cracked completely open, revealing vulnerability you only got to see. A flush colored his cheekbones, making him look younger, more boyish.

“What was that for?” he asked, his voice softer than before, slightly breathless in a way that made your heart skip.

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted, equally breathless. “I’m still mad at you, though.” The declaration lacked conviction even to your own ears, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully, as if processing a complex equation. His thumb traced a gentle circle on your hip where his hand still rested. “I understand your concern,” he said finally, each word carefully chosen. “Next time, I’ll message you.”

You sighed, feeling the last remnants of your anger slipping away. “I just... when I couldn’t reach you, I imagined all these terrible scenarios.” Your forehead dropped against his chest, suddenly exhausted from the emotional whiplash.

“That hadn’t occurred to me, because I usually came back just fine,” he admitted quietly. His arms encircled you fully now, pulling you into an embrace. His heartbeat was steady against your ear, reassuringly present and real.

“Though if this is how our arguments conclude,” he whispered, that subtle teasing tone emerging that only you ever got to hear, “I might be tempted to provoke them more often.”

You smacked his chest lightly, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Don’t you dare.”

“Noted,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Though I make no promises about forgetting the time again. But I will promise to let you know where I am.”

“That’s all I’m asking for,” you whispered against the soft fabric of his hoodie, breathing in his familiar scent. The argument had dissolved, leaving something stronger, more honest in its wake—another layer of understanding between you and this complex, fascinating man you’d fallen for.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital cast everything in an unflattering glow, including Zayne’s stern expression as he worked on your arm. The sharp antiseptic smell permeated the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood—your blood—that had soaked through your uniform.

“Hold still,” Zayne commanded as he dabbed antiseptic on the gash along your arm. The cool liquid burned against the raw wound, making you inhale sharply.

You winced at the sting but tried to maintain a brave face. “It’s just a scratch,” you said dismissively, though the throbbing told a different story.

His eyes flicked up momentarily from his work, dark with barely contained emotion. “A ‘scratch’ that nearly severed your brachial artery,” he countered, his deft fingers working methodically on the sutures.

You watched his hands as he worked—steady, precise movements born from years of practice. The precision of his gestures contrasted sharply with the tightness around his eyes and the muscle jumping in his jaw. The silence between stitch pulls felt heavier than artillery fire.

“What were you thinking, charging like that without proper clearance?” he finally asked, voice too controlled, too measured to disguise the emotion underneath.

With each stitch, you could feel his conflicting emotions—the methodical doctor warring with the man who clearly cared for you more than he wanted to admit. His eyes remained focused on the wound, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes.

“I had intelligence that couldn’t wait,” you defended, though your voice lacked conviction. The pain medication was making it hard to maintain your stubborn front, and his proximity was distracting. Zayne had always been handsome, but there was something about the intensity of his focus, even while angry, that made your pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with your injury.

Zayne’s jaw tightened visibly as he reached for the surgical thread again. “Intelligence. Right.” He tied off a stitch with perhaps more force than necessary, making you flinch. His eyes immediately softened with regret for causing additional pain, though his voice remained stern. “And that intelligence was worth risking your life?”

“The mission was—”

“The mission would have failed entirely if you’d bled out in that alley,” he cut in, his voice sharp as a scalpel. “Do you have any idea what it was like—” his voice wavered, “—knowing you’re out there, but not knowing if you’d come out alive?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications. The rhythmic beeping of medical equipment filled the silence, counting the heartbeats where neither of you spoke. You hadn’t considered that perspective—hadn’t thought about Zayne possibly remembering other battlefields where he’d arrived too late.

As he reached to wrap your arm, you noticed the slight tremor in his usually steady hands. It was subtle—anyone else might have missed it—but you knew those hands too well. They had patched you up countless times, had grabbed you out of harm’s way, had steadied you during your hard times. Now they betrayed his composure in a way his disciplined expression never would.

“You could have died,” he said more quietly as he smoothed the bandage over your skin, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. 

Something in his vulnerability made your chest tighten. The walls you’d both maintained through professional necessity suddenly seemed absurd in the face of how close you’d come to never seeing him again. The realization hit you with unexpected force—what if this had been your last interaction? An argument in a sterile hospital room?

Without overthinking it, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, effectively silencing his lecture. You felt his momentary surprise, the stiffening of his shoulders before something like surrender washed through him. The kiss was gentle, an apology and a reassurance wrapped into one. His lips were surprisingly soft against yours.

For a suspended moment, the hospital, the mission, the injury—everything disappeared except the point where you connected. His hand came up to cradle the side of your face, careful to avoid jostling your injured arm. The professional mask he wore so carefully had slipped entirely away, revealing the vulnerability underneath that only you were trusted to see.

When you pulled back, his expression had transformed. The stern doctor was gone. His breath came slightly faster, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

You gave him your best innocent look, trying to lighten the suddenly charged atmosphere. “Doctor, am I going to make it?”

For a moment, he appeared stunned, lips slightly parted in surprise, a flush rising from beneath the collar of his medical coat. Then he exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders visibly releasing. The corner of his mouth twitched upward—not quite a smile, but getting there.

“Your prognosis is favorable,” he murmured. He finished securing the bandage, his touch had gentled considerably. “But I’m prescribing close observation for the next twenty-four hours. My office would be the appropriate location for such monitoring.”

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then traced a path down to your lips again. This second kiss was different—unhurried and deliberate, carrying promises neither of you had voiced aloud. You felt the last of his anger dissolving.

You smiled against his lips, victory achieved. “If that’s your medical opinion, Doctor.”

“It is,” he said, carefully helping you sit up. His hand lingered at the small of your back, steadying you. “And next time, wait for backup. Please.” The ‘please’ was barely audible, a rare moment of naked vulnerability.

It was a plea from someone who couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

“I promise,” you said softly, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

“Three hours, thirty-seven minutes, and—” Rafayel checked his watch with exaggerated timing, spinning around to face you as you entered his studio, “—fourteen seconds. That’s how long I’ve been waiting.” He threw his hands upward. “Do you know what I could have done in that time? I could have watched Titanic. I could have baked a soufflé—actually, no, three soufflés! I could have learned the basics of Spanish!”

You closed the door behind you, exhaustion evident in your movements. Your muscles ached from the tension of the mission, and your uniform still carried the faint smell of smoke and sweat. The emergency operation had taken everything out of you, but Rafayel was clearly in no mood to be sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, Rafayel. The situation was critical and—”

“Critical enough to not send a single message?” He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. He paced the room with exaggerated steps, hands gesturing wildly as if conducting an invisible orchestra of grievances. “We had plans. Specific plans that involved a sunset and a dinner reservation that I can’t get back. Do you know how many strings I had to pull? How many favors I called in?”

You dropped your bag with a heavy thud, wincing as your bruised shoulder protested the movement. “Rafayel, please—”

“The restaurant had a two-month waiting list!” He spun again, his silk shirt billowing slightly with the movement. “The chef was going to prepare that ridiculous flaming dessert you like—the one with the sparklers that always makes you smile like a child at a festival.” His voice softened momentarily before hardening again. “I even wore the shirt you like. The one that’s actually uncomfortable but makes my eyes look nice or whatever.”

He wasn’t wrong—the color of the silk did make his eyes look particularly striking, even now as they flashed with indignation. You noticed he’d styled his hair as well, and the realization that he’d put such effort into the evening made your heart twist with guilt.

“There wasn’t time to message anyone,” you explained, sinking onto the couch, too tired to remain standing through his complaints. “The comms were jammed. We barely made it out at all.”

Rafayel narrowed his eyes, studying your face for any sign of deception. “Oh, so it’s technology’s fault now?” He threw his hands up again, accidentally knocking a decorative vase that he caught with surprising reflexes before it could shatter. “Humans and their excuses. Always something or someone else to blame. ‘The sun was in my eyes! The dog ate my homework! The communications were jammed during my super-secret mission!’”

He set the vase down with care despite his agitation—a reminder that for all his dramatic flair, Rafayel was actually quite meticulous. “Next you’ll tell me there were explosions and car chases, like some absurd action movie.”

The accuracy of his sarcastic guess made you hesitate just long enough for his eyes to widen.

“Wait, there were actually explosions? And you’re just walking in here like it’s nothing?” Something flickered across his face—genuine concern breaking through the outrage—before he quickly composed himself again. “Well, that’s... that’s beside the point! The point is I was abandoned. Left to wither away on my own.”

Despite your fatigue, irritation sparked. “I didn’t exactly choose to be ambushed and pinned down for two hours! I wasn’t having fun, Rafayel!”

“And I didn’t choose to sit alone at that ridiculous restaurant while the waiter gave me pitying looks!” he shot back, voice rising as he threw himself into the armchair across from you. “Do you know how humiliating that was? Waiting and waiting while everyone whispered about the poor abandoned man? The maître d’ actually patted my shoulder, like I was some... some tragic figure!”

He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, mussing it in a way that somehow made him look even more attractive—an infuriating talent he seemed unaware of. “I ordered wine. I checked my phone approximately nine thousand times. I made up elaborate excuses about my date being a super great hunter called into an emergency mission to save Linkon City.”

The genuine hurt beneath his outrage became suddenly clear. Behind the dramatic gestures and exaggerated language was real pain—the vulnerability of someone who had been genuinely worried. 

You rose from the couch, crossing the small space between you. He continued his rant, though his voice lost some of its conviction as you approached.

“And then I had to walk home alone, past all those disgustingly happy couples who—”

You stepped forward, cupping his face in your hands, and pressed your lips firmly against his. You could feel the exact moment his indignation melted, his body language transforming from rigid offense to relieved surrender. For a moment, he remained stiff, clearly determined to hold onto his righteous anger. Then, with a small sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan, his arms encircled you, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap.

The kiss tasted faintly of the expensive wine he’d mentioned—he hadn’t been exaggerating about waiting at the restaurant, at least. His fingers tangled in your hair, gentle despite his earlier theatrics, cradling your head as if you were something precious he’d feared losing.

When you pulled away, his pout remained, though considerably less convincing. His lips, slightly reddened from the kiss, contradicted his attempt at maintaining his anger. His fingers traced your cheekbone with a gentleness that contradicted his dramatic words—the clearest sign that you’d been forgiven, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

“This changes nothing,” he mumbled, even as his fingers gently traced patterns on your back, discovering and carefully avoiding the spots where you’d been injured. “I’m still upset.”

“I know,” you acknowledged softly, resting your forehead against his. “And I really am sorry about dinner. I know how much trouble you went through to arrange it.”

“You should be,” he huffed, but then rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your face. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? The things I imagined? You could have been hurt or—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard. 

“I’m okay,” you assured him, brushing your thumb across his cheekbone. “A few bruises, nothing serious.”

His eyes searched yours, seeing through the minimization. His hand found the tender spot on your shoulder that you’d been trying to hide, his touch feather-light. “Liar,” he said softly, with none of his earlier accusations. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s part of the job,” you reminded him gently. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“A job that consistently interrupts my meticulously planned romantic gestures,” he complained, but his voice had lost its edge. His fingers moved from your shoulder to your neck, then to your face, as if reassuring himself that you were really there, whole and safe. “But I suppose I’m glad you weren’t permanently damaged. That would have been extremely inconvenient for my future plans.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

“You seem distracted today,” Sylus remarked, watching you from across his office room in the Onychinus’s base. His voice carried that peculiar blend of observation and judgment that never failed to set your teeth on edge. “Something troubling that brilliant mind of yours?”

You’d been on edge all morning, his casual observations hitting every nerve. The mission report in front of you blurred as you tried to focus on anything besides his piercing gaze from across the room. Each time he passed behind your chair, you could feel his presence like electricity, deliberately invading your space as if testing your limits.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you replied tersely, gripping your pen tighter.

“Clearly.” His lips curled into that infuriating smirk that made you want to either slap him or— No. You refused to follow that train of thought. “That’s why you’ve been glaring daggers at the same report for twenty minutes. Fascinating reading material, is it?”

“I’m concentrating.” You made a show of turning the page, though you hadn’t absorbed a single word from the previous one.

“On setting it ablaze with your eyes, perhaps?” He chuckled, the sound rich and smooth like aged whiskey—a sound that would be pleasant in any other context, from any other person. He pushed away from his ornate desk, crossing the room with that grace that seemed to define his every movement. “Come now, sweetie. You know I can see right through you.”

Your grip tightened on your pen until your knuckles whitened. Today, his typical banter felt like sandpaper on raw skin. The weight of the failed mission hung heavy on your shoulders—a mission he’d asked you to accompany him. The subtle way his eyes had followed you since your return suggested he knew exactly how it had gone wrong, and was simply waiting for you to admit it.

The mission had been stressful enough without his commentary, and you’d specifically chosen to work in his office for the quiet atmosphere, not the running commentary. The irony wasn’t lost on you—seeking peace in the devil’s lair—but the alternative was the bustling common areas where questions about the mission would be impossible to avoid.

“Perhaps it’s the negotiations?” he continued, leaning against your desk, invading your personal space with calculated precision. The subtle scent of his cologne—something expensive and custom-made, no doubt—wrapped around you like an unwelcome embrace. “Your strategy was... unconventional. Though I must say, watching you attempt to outmaneuver your opponent was quite entertaining. Like watching a chess novice challenge a grandmaster.”

His words struck with precision, targeting exactly where you felt most vulnerable. The negotiations had fallen apart spectacularly, though not for lack of preparation on your part. Sylus had blamed it on a few of his henchmen, he’ll deal with them later for forgetting to mention some details that caused you to stress yourself out.

“Or maybe it’s that little encounter with one of my rivals the day before yesterday?” he pressed on, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that forced you to incline toward him despite yourself. “I heard of how that meeting concluded.”

That was the breaking point. The pen in your hand snapped, ink staining your fingers like evidence of a crime. In one fluid motion, you stood from your chair, the sudden movement causing Sylus to straighten, a flash of surprise crossing his features before his customary smirk returned.

“Would you just—” The words caught in your throat, frustration making it impossible to articulate exactly what you wanted from him. Silence? An apology? Some acknowledgment that he’d set you up to fail although it’s not entirely his fault?

Instead of finishing your sentence, you grabbed his perfectly pressed collar and yanked him down, crushing your lips against his. It wasn’t gentle or sweet—it was pure frustration translated into action, teeth clashing, fingers gripping fabric tight enough to wrinkle the expensive material.

The stunned widening of his eyes gave you a flash of satisfaction—finally something had caught the ever-composed Sylus off-guard. For a heartbeat, he remained completely still, his usual grace abandoned in genuine surprise. Then his hand moved to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he responded with unexpected intensity.

What had started as an impulsive act of defiance quickly transformed into something more. The kiss deepened, his other hand finding the small of your back, drawing you closer with surprising strength. Heat bloomed where his fingers pressed, spreading through your body like wildfire. The taste of him—bitter coffee and something sweeter underneath—was intoxicating in the worst possible way.

When you broke away, breathless and disoriented, you glared up at him. “Shut. Up.”

For perhaps the first time this week, Sylus appeared genuinely caught off balance. His usual perfect composure had slipped, collar askew, a hint of color high on his sharp cheekbones. Something flashed in his eyes—surprise, certainly, but also something darker, more intense that made your pulse quicken despite yourself.

Rather than appearing offended, Sylus looked thoroughly entertained once he recovered, eyes gleaming with intrigue. He straightened slowly, adjusting his collar that drew attention to his long fingers.

“Well,” he murmured, voice slightly rougher than his usual polished tones, “that’s certainly one way to request silence.” His tongue darted out to touch his lower lip briefly, as if sampling the taste you’d left there. “Effective, if unorthodox.”

But true to your demand, he didn’t speak further. Instead, he returned to his chaise lounge across the room, picking up his own work with an amused expression that should have infuriated you but somehow didn’t.

The silence stretched between you, no longer suffocating. You returned to your report, finding it suddenly easier to focus with Sylus’s voice no longer needling at your concentration. Occasionally, you felt his gaze on you, but whenever you glanced up, he was seemingly absorbed in his own work, though the ghost of a smile played around his lips.

After you’d made significant progress through the stack of files, a steaming cup of your favorite tea appeared at your elbow without warning. The delicate china cup—part of an antique set Sylus guarded jealously—was filled with the precise shade and aroma that you preferred, complete with the exact amount of honey you favored.

When you looked up questioningly, Sylus merely raised an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘See? I can be helpful when not talking.’ His smirk had softened around the edges, a truce offering in the form of perfectly brewed tea.

Despite yourself, you felt a smile tugging at your lips. You raised the cup in silent acknowledgment, a momentary peace established in the aftermath of that impulsive kiss.

As you sipped the tea—prepared exactly as you liked it, proving he’d been paying far more attention than you’d given him credit for—you wondered which one of you had actually won this particular skirmish. Based on the satisfied gleam in his eye whenever he glanced your way, Sylus clearly thought he had the upper hand.

But as the afternoon wore on in productive silence, punctuated only by the occasional meaningful glance, you weren’t entirely sure you’d lost either.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

The drive back to Caleb’s apartment was suffocating with silence. Rain streaked across the windshield, city lights blurring into watery halos as he navigated the evening trafficking Skyhaven. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, jaw set in that way that meant he was holding back words—a dam of frustration ready to break at any moment.

You stared out the passenger window, your reflection ghostly against the glass, unable to look at him directly. You’d avoided him for three days after the mission went sideways. Three days of ducking into supply closets when you heard his footsteps in the corridor, of swapping shifts with anyone willing, of ignoring the increasingly terse messages on your comm unit. It wasn’t rational—you knew that—but facing him after your mistake in the field felt impossible.

The car stopped at a red light, engine humming. Raindrops raced down the window, merging and separating like the strategies you should have coordinated better during the operation. In the reflection of the glass, you could see Caleb’s profile—strong jaw tensed, eyes fixed straight ahead, the small scar above his eyebrow more pronounced in the harsh street lighting.

Neither of you had spoken since he’d found you in the briefing room, simply saying “We need to talk” in that Colonel voice that brooked no argument. Now, pulling into the parking space at his building, you still hadn’t found the words to bridge the chasm between you.

He unlocked his door, letting you enter first. The familiarity of his place—the orderly bookshelves, the single plant you’d given him that somehow thrived despite his frequent absences, the subtle scent of coffee and cologne he wore—made your chest ache with a complicated emotion. You couldn’t meet his eyes, focusing instead around the room—everything in its place except for the emotions threatening to spill over between you.

The moment the door closed behind you with a soft click, the tension broke.

“Three days,” he stated, voice unnervingly calm as he set his keys in the exact same spot they always occupied on the entryway table. “No communications, dodging my calls, switching shifts.” Each offense listed with the precision of military charges being read.

You shrugged, aiming for casual while removing your jacket, though your hands betrayed you with a slight tremor. “I’ve been busy.”

“Lying doesn’t suit you,” he said, stepping closer, the controlled anger in his voice making it lower than usual. “Never has.” He moved into your space, not touching you but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the rain on his uniform mingling with his cologne. “I know exactly what you’re doing. Running away because you think I blame you for what happened.”

Your breath caught. Of course he’d figured it out—he always did. Caleb could read encryptions and enemy movements with uncanny accuracy, but his ability to decode your thoughts sometimes felt even more disarming.

“People could have died because of my call,” you whispered, finally voicing the fear that had been haunting you for days. Your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides, the phantom feeling of your weapon during that critical moment when everything had gone wrong.

“But they didn’t,” he countered. His voice remained firm but had lost some of its edge. “The team is safe. The mission objectives were achieved, if not in the way we planned.”

“That’s not the point,” you argued, finally meeting his gaze. The intensity there nearly made you step back. “I ignored direct orders—your orders. I put everyone at risk because I thought I knew better.”

“You made a judgment call in the field,” he corrected, running a hand through his rain-dampened hair. The gesture, so uncharacteristically nervous for him, revealed just how deeply the situation had affected him, too. “What I can’t accept is you avoiding me afterward. Avoiding the team. Avoiding the debrief where we could have addressed what happened.”

“And avoiding me doesn’t change what happened or help us prevent it next time,” he continued, his voice softening. “The team needs you. I need—” He stopped, seeming to catch himself. “The mission requires all officers and you, Miss Hunter, to be present for debriefing. That’s protocol.”

The retreat behind protocol stung worse than his anger. The distance he was deliberately placing between you—falling back on rank and procedure—felt like a physical wound. The intensity in his eyes was too much to bear.

Before he could continue his lecture, before he could retreat further behind the wall of Colonel, you surged forward, grasping his collar and pulling him down into a desperate kiss. The kiss was both surrender and defiance—an apology you couldn’t voice and a desperate plea to move past the wall building between you.

For a heartbeat, he remained rigid, hands stiff at his sides. Then, like ice thawing, he responded, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you flush against him. The rain had chilled his lips, but they quickly warmed against yours, the taste of something uniquely him making your heart race.

What had begun as impulse deepened into something more profound. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head to deepen the kiss. The carefully maintained distance of the past days dissolved with each passing second, replaced by an urgency that spoke of relief and lingering fear—fear that the rift between you might have been permanent.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, his expression had transformed. The stern Colonel was gone, replaced by just Caleb—your Caleb—with unguarded emotion in his eyes. His shoulders relaxed for what felt like the first time in days.

“Don’t be mad at me like that...” you whispered. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart where your bodies pressed together.

His expression had softened even more, he could never stay mad at you for long, not when you looked at him like this.

“That won’t work every time,” he murmured, though the smile playing at his lips suggested otherwise. His thumb traced gentle circles at the small of your back.

“Seems to be working now,” you replied, relieved to see the anger dissipating like morning fog. You pressed your forehead against his chest, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow to its usual steady rhythm.

Caleb sighed, one hand still tangled in your hair, gently massaging your scalp in that way he knew always calmed you. The rain continued to patter against the windows. “You know why I was angry, don’t you?” he asked quietly, his voice rumbling through his chest against your ear.

You nodded slightly. “Because I disobeyed a direct order.”

“No,” he said, pulling back just enough to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Because you disappeared afterward. Because for three days, I didn’t know if you were okay—not physically, but here.” He tapped gently at your temple. “Missions go wrong. Plans fall apart. That’s the nature of what we do. But we process it together.”

“I thought you’d be disappointed in me.”

“I was disappointed you didn’t trust me enough to face me,” he corrected, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “We’re partners in this, in all of it. The good calls and the bad ones.”

“I promise,” you whispered. “No more running. No matter what happens, we face it together.”

Something in your tone must have convinced him, because the last traces of tension left his body. He pressed his lips to your forehead, the gesture tender in a way that made your heart ache. 

“Good,” he murmured against your skin. “Because the next time you go dark on me for three days, I’m sending the entire squadron to find you.”

After five hours of writing with plenty of breaks (read: procrastination and distraction), and I finally finished my longest scenario yet. This ended up being one of my favorites, as I truly enjoyed the writing process and got completely carried away.

[alpali]

Kenma likes this habit you have when you kiss him. You usually do this when he’s at practice. Sweating so much and obviously tired.

“He always slacks when you’re around. You baby him too much.” Kuroo and Kenma glare at each other.

“Sorry! I’ll make sure he’s on his A game for the next set.” You smile, peeling and handing a banana to Kenma.

“Thank you.” He mumbles munching on the banana.

You guys talk for a little a bit until Kuroo is calling him over. He grumbles but before he leaves, you call out to him.

“Ken?” He hums glancing your way.

You stand up and kiss him, his eyes go wide for a bit but he relaxes. Your hands sneak into his damp hair. Pulling the strands together and tying it all while deepening the kiss.

When you pull away a chunk of his hair falls forward, leaving it layered. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he blushes, chewing on his lip. You smile as you push the strand of hair behind his ear.

“Alright! All ready.”

As he walks to the court he has to put up with a teasing Lev and Yamamoto.

He doesn’t mind though, he’ll put up with all of that if it means you’ll kiss him like that again.

[catbolt]

sylus x "sweetheart"

He rolls over in the middle of the night, his arm reaching across the bed into empty, cool sheets. "Sweetheart?" He mumbles softly into the quiet room, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he half-raises his head off the pillow, searching the darkness for you with bleary focus. He hears the light flick on in the bathroom and his muscles relax as he snuggles back under the covers, trying hard to fight off sleep so he can welcome you back into his arms once you return to bed.

"Sweetheart..." he draws out each syllable playfully as he leans agains the front door with a bemused expression. a smirk playing across his lips as he watches your frantic movements. "We're gonna be late." You're scrambling around the foyer looking for your keys. He thinks to himself for a moment, and then his smirk deepens. "Did you leave them in the lock again?" He lets out a soft chuckle as an embarrassed, knowing flush rises to your cheeks, already pulling open the door to check. sure enough— stuck straight in the lock. "You've really got to stop doing that."

You're walking down the busy sidewalk alone, tote bag over your shoulder as Sylus' voice echoes through your earbuds. "Hey, sweetheart. You look nice today." "Huh? I haven't even seen you today." "That's true. but I'm pretty sure I'm seeing you right now." You whirl around, searching the crowd, until you see the the familiar silhouette of a sleek black car slowly creeping down the street, matching your pace. Sylus rolls the window down, just enough for you to see the tops of his fingers as he gives a casual, flirtatious wave. a car honks in irritation behind him. He murmurs into the receiver. "You gonna make me hold up traffic like this much longer? This guy behind me's about to start seeing red."

"Sweetheart," he says in that husky low voice that makes you weak in the knees as he's pulling the strap of your nightdress down, inching it lower and lower on your shoulder as the movie plays in the background. His fingers are rough, his hands slightly calloused, but the motion of the touch itself is somehow silk-soft. "You're so warm," he whispers, his breath ghosting over the sharp ledge of your collarbone, fingers momentarily moving to trace its edge. "You sure you don't wanna keep watching?" You almost roll your eyes at the ridiculous question. "Fuck no, not when you're looking at me like that."

[rinasauruss]

closer than quiet

summary: Rafe is so tall he has to lean down to hear you better. that's it.

warnings: none, me thinks. just a suggestive line at the end ;P

word count: 590

AN: I couldn't help myself, so I wrote this blurb! this is my first time writing Rafe, let me know what you think! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors. feedback is appreciated!

The soft hum of the waves was a steady background to the crackling of the bonfire, the flames dancing as the heat mixed with the cool bite of the night breeze. You stood near the fire, feeling the warmth spread through you, but the presence behind you was what made your skin tingle the most.

Rafe was close, an arm wrapped around your waist with a casual ease that made you feel both safe and exposed at the same time. His thumb traced slow, absent circles over your stomach, his other hand holding a beer with the same relaxed grip he used when he wasn’t thinking about much at all. Topper and Kelce were deep in conversation, their voices more distant than usual, as if the world around you had faded into something quieter. Rafe barely added to the chatter, content to stay in his own head—or maybe it was you who had his full attention. You weren’t sure, but it felt like you did.

You turned your head, looking up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "You good?" You asked it quietly, as though you already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him say it anyway.

Rafe didn’t immediately respond, the sound of the ocean filling the silence. Instead, he leaned down, tilting his head as if to catch the softest whisper, even though you’d only spoken in your normal tone. His presence grew even more intense with the movement, his height hovering over you, his face drawing closer in that effortless, unspoken way that made you feel smaller and more drawn in with each inch.

"Hm?" His voice was low, just above a murmur, the sound of it vibrating through your chest.

You flushed at the gesture, a subtle warmth rising in your cheeks. His closeness, his height, the way he made the space around you feel like it shrank to just the two of you—it was disarming in the best way. His breath fanned over your skin, the warmth of it sending a shiver down your spine, and you could almost feel the heartbeat beneath his chest as he leaned in further.

You swallowed, your voice a little shakier this time. "You doing good?" You repeated, hoping your tone sounded steady, but there was no hiding the way he affected you.

Rafe’s grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he felt the slight hitch in your breath, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer. It was as though he knew exactly how much he was making you feel.

"Yeah, m'good, baby," he hummed, his voice deepening in that way it did when he was in his element. "Just thinking."

"About?" you asked, a whisper now, almost afraid to ask but too curious to hold back.

He tilted his head again, moving in just a little further, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The closeness, the heat of his breath, was enough to send a shiver all the way down your spine, leaving you breathless.

The moment stretched between you, charged with unspoken words and everything that lay beneath the surface. The bonfire crackled, the night air was cool, but Rafe’s presence was all you could feel now, the pull of him drawing you in further than you’d ever planned to go.

His voice was soft, smooth, laced with that teasing edge that always made your heart skip a beat. "Just thinking about how much fun I’m gonna have taking this little dress off you later."

(support banner by @cafekitsune )

[rosiereveries]

 Medieval King!John who has a midlife crisis and he is so bored of his current situation. His wife gave him 3 healthy sons, who will be his heir, and she retreated to the countryside, to her summer residence. But John still craves woman touch, so what he has 3 children he still wants more. He wants a beautiful lover, who will touch him with love and who will spend nights with him.

So, when he sees you, a beautiful young girl sitting nervously next to your father at the dinner, your father has been invited to, he knows that he has to have you. Your father is a noble man, who want to marry you well. You finally reached the age when he can take you with him to formal events such as this one and he hopes that you will catch eye of some duke or lord.

You sit nervously looking at your potential husband and you imagine your future with them. So, when you catch the king looking at you, you blush, and it only gets worse. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's looking at you.

You and your father are staying at the castle as guests and when you excuse yourself at the dinner, feeling overwhelmed and slightly sick, you go to the room that was assigned to you. You drank too much wine, and you can feel your head spinning. When after some time you hear a quiet knock on the door you think it’s your father.

But it is the king standing there waiting for you to invite him to your bedroom. You never stayed alone with a man, not alone the king. You don’t know what to do when he gently holds your face and whispers how lovely you look tonight, how you charmed him and how he wants you. He kisses you slowly and gently, he tastes like wine and your head spins when he deepens the kiss, and you can feel his tongue inside your mouth.

John is eager, he haven’t felt a woman’s touch in weeks, and now he has this delicate thing right in front of him. You’re shaking with need and feeling things that you haven’t felt before. When he puts you on your bed and lifts your nightgown, pulling it over your head, you sit in front of him completely naked. He kisses you and his hands starts to roam around your body.

You read some romance books, and you talked with the maids about the wedding night, so you know slightly what to expect. But when John puts your nipple in his mouth you’re gone, you feel pleasure like never before and your brain stops to work. You know that this is not right, and you should save yourself for marriage, but John is the king and if he wants you, you will give him everything.

He makes his way down and he puts little kisses on the inner sides of your thighs. He spread you open for him, telling you how beautiful and wet you are for him. John tells you that he needs to prepare you for him, so that you can experience the same pleasure as he will. He eats you out for a long time, your legs hurt from how wide open they are. When he slowly pushes his two middle fingers inside you and starts to move them, you cum for the first time. It takes you some time to catch your breath again.

While you lie there John waits no more and he quickly takes off his clothes. He stands in front of you with his thick dick in his hand. He gets on top of you, and he starts to slowly push inside you. The stretch hurts a little, but when he starts to suck and kiss your neck you relax, and he can push into you more. After some while you can feel him bottoming out inside of you and you are so full of him.

When he starts to move you feel like you’re in heaven. He plays with your clit, and he sucks your nipples until they are so sensitive. He has you under him and his thrusts are slow, but hard and with each thrust you can feel him getting deeper and deeper. When he lifts your legs, and he presses them to your chest you feel him under a new angle that makes you see stars.

You can feel that he is close, and he makes sure that you are feeling the same. He thrusts so deep inside of you, and he spills his seed there. You can feel the hot load leaking out of your pussy. After this you think he will go back to his rooms, but he just turns you over on your stomach and he pushes his cock inside your pussy.

He fucks you the whole night. Sometimes rough and hard while you’re on your all fours and sometimes he makes you slowly ride him while he sits on the sofa drinking wine. He teaches you how to suck his cock and he praises you when you can put all of him into your mouth. In the morning, he asks the maids to prepare a bath for you. He makes sure that you’re taken care of.

The king makes sure that you stay at the castle with him. He promises your father that you’re visit at the castle will only help you with your search for husband. The queen doesn’t complain when she is informed that her stay at the countryside should become permanent. All she knows is that the king found some young lady that now sleeps in his bed.

John visits your bedroom every night, fucking you till you’re nice and full of his cum and when after a few months you start to show, and the maid notice that you hadn’t bled for month, he permanently moves you to his chambers. You sit next to him during the dinners, and you can feel all the eyes judging you when John kisses you or puts his hands on your pregnant belly. But all of it goes away, when you’re alone, the king´s dick deep inside of you and his words promising you that after this baby is born, he will give you as many as you wish for.

Masterlist You can support my work here : ko-fi

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

ARE YOU A P★RN STAR?

paring : phainon, mydei, anaxa, aventurine, sunday x f!reader

tws : nsfw / smut, creampie (vaginal), cow-girl, nipple play, biting, hair pulling, tit-fucking, slight slut-shaming, breeding kink, licking, spitting in mouth, degradation, humiliation, nasty sēx, filthy sēx, cōck-drunk reader, slight pūssy drunk Sunday and spanking.

synopsis : when the fucking is sooo good he thinks you’re a pornstar. minors do not interact.

☆ PHAINON !

Your thighs are shaking from the effort, hips grinding slow but deep, taking every inch of Phainon’s cock like you were born for it. His back is relaxed against the headboard, long white hair draped across the pillows like silk, armor undone just enough to expose his pale chest and the faint sheen of sweat catching in the hollow of his throat. He watches you ride him like it’s a performance made just for him—those blue eyes soft, but hungry.

His hands are everywhere. One draped low on your waist, thumb brushing just beneath your bellybutton, right over the obscene bulge his cock makes inside you. The other? Pinching your nipple between gloved fingers, tugging and rolling until your breath stutters and your body clenches down around him.

“Mmnh—fuck, P-Phainon…” you whimper, already a wreck.

He laughs softly—low, intimate, like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

“You ride me like you’ve done this before,” he murmurs, gaze lazily trailing from your tits to your hips. “You fuck me like you’re on camera. Should I be tipping you for this performance?”

Your face burns, but you moan when he rolls his hips up into you, stretching you even deeper. The size of him still makes you twitch, even after being split open for so long—your cunt sucking around him greedily, sloppy and wet, strings of slick coating his thighs. He’s so thick it hurts, but you don’t stop riding. You can’t.

Phainon leans forward with a soft growl, grabs your jaw, and coos, “Open.”

You obey, mouth wide and tongue out like a good little pet—and he spits. Warm and slow. It hits your tongue and you moan, dizzy and desperate. His smirk deepens as he watches you swallow it without hesitation.

“That’s it… fuck, you’re perfect. Filthy little thing,” he whispers, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. “So sweet when you beg for it, but look at you now. You’re just a slut when I let you ride, hm? Just a tight little hole to milk me dry?”

His words make your hips stutter, your body starting to fold forward, overwhelmed and clenching.

“Aww,” he croons, mocking gently, “You gonna cum from that? From just being used? Go ahead, baby. Cum on it—show me how bad you want to be full.”

He grabs your hips, holding you steady, and fucks up into you with slow, brutal force. Every thrust is heavy, obscene—your soaked cunt squelching around him, drool slipping from your lips as you cry out, helpless to stop it.

“I’m gonna cum—!” you sob, nails digging into his shoulders, body trembling violently.

Phainon’s voice is low and rough now, breath hitting your ear. “You’re gonna take every drop. You hear me? I’m gonna fuck it so deep it sticks. I want it dripping out of you for hours, ruining your thighs—soak the sheets, make a mess. That’s what this pretty pussy’s for.”

You scream his name as you cum, hard and loud, pussy locking down around him in waves. And he keeps going.

Keeps. Fucking. Up. Into. You.

He watches your eyes roll, your body twitch and convulse, your moans turning to dumb little cries as you drool down onto his chest.

And then he groans—deep. Loud. Body tensing. He thrusts up and stays buried, cock twitching inside you as he cums. Hot. So much. You can feel it pulse, feel your insides getting filled, and the warmth makes your legs give out.

But he doesn’t stop.

He fucks it in. Keeps thrusting slow, deep, holding your hips down while he pumps every last drop inside. You’re whimpering, overstimulated, already full—but he groans again, voice raw with hunger.

“Did I say I was done?”

His hand reaches between your legs, fingers to your clit, rubbing in slow, cruel circles.

“I want to see it spill. I want to watch you leak all over me. But not yet—not till I’ve filled you again. You’ll take it. All of it. You’re mine. You were made to be fucked like this.”

You sob, nodding, brain white-noise and legs trembling.

And Phainon smiles, soft and wicked.

“That’s my good little star. Keep riding. We’re not stopping, ‘till you can’t take it anymore.”

☆ MYDEIMOS !

Mydei’s hands are brutal on your hair, gripping thick strands and yanking your head back just enough to expose your neck. You gasp, mouth open, lips wet and trembling from how badly you need him. Your body is a trembling mess—so soaked, so hungry for every inch of him that your thighs won’t stop trembling, your hips nearly losing all control.

He leans in, teeth grazing your skin with sharp bites, lips trailing down your neck in hot, sloppy licks that leave you gasping and squirming.

“You ride me like you’re some kind of fucking pornstar,” he growls, voice low and ragged, dragging you down to his level by your hair. His golden eyes flash with fire and something darker—pure, raw hunger. “How the fuck do you ride this big cock like that? You trying to make me cum everywhere?”

You whimper and moan against him, your tongue slipping out to taste the salty skin beneath his jaw. Your mouth moves on instinct, licking and biting his neck with a desperate need that makes him snarl in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. So goddamn messy. You’re leaking all over me, babe. You want me to breed you, huh?” His grip tightens, fingers clawing into your hair harder, making your head jerk back. “Tell me you want to be full of me. Tell me you want me to fill you up till you can’t walk.”

You nod, breath coming in desperate gasps, voice trembling but raw with need. “Please, Mydei… fuck me so hard. Fill me up. I want all of you.”

He snarls, pushing into you with a force that steals your breath, hips slamming up with hard, punishing thrusts that make your whole body scream. Your nails dig into his shoulders, clutching him like a lifeline as he fucks you deep, balls slapping against your slick folds.

His mouth finds your throat, teeth sinking in just enough to leave marks as he growls, “You’re mine—mine to breed, mine to ruin. You’re gonna take every last drop, you hear me? Fill you up so full you’re dripping and leaking all over my cock.”

Your moans come out choked and messy, your head spinning from how good it feels and how much you want more. Your pussy clenches uncontrollably around him, soaking him through and through, desperate for every thrust.

Mydei’s hand moves down to your breast, grabbing hard, fingers pinching your nipple until you cry out and arch into him, your mouth falling open in a shaky gasp.

“You’re a filthy slut for this, huh?” he spits, voice thick. “Riding me like I’m the only one who’s ever fucked you right. Like you belong to me.”

You whimper, biting your lip hard, tongue flicking out to taste the salty mix of sweat and spit that drips from his mouth.

“You’re such a whore, aren’t you? Can’t get enough, can you? Riding me like your whole world depends on it.” His thrusts get faster, rougher—pounding you deep and hard until you’re nothing but heat and wetness and trembling flesh.

He growls again, voice low and deadly, “Cum for me. Show me how bad you want it. Show me you’re mine.”

You scream his name, cumming so hard it feels like your body’s going to shatter. Your legs shake violently as he keeps fucking you through every wave, dragging you down into a dark, filthy haze where nothing exists but him pounding into your dripping cunt.

When he finally cums, his roar is deafening, hips jerking hard as he spills inside you, filling you so full you swear you can feel every hot drop.

He holds you tight, fingers tangled in your hair, and breathes out, “Goddamn… you fuck like you’re getting paid, baby. You’re mine.”

Mydei’s not done making you his messy, dripping little breeding prize yet—he’s got you right where he wants you, and he’s about to push you even further over the edge.

His heavy breaths fog up the room as he pulls out just enough to watch your body tremble, slick and swollen around him. Your pussy is dripping wet, dripping all over his thick cock, and he’s gripping your hips hard—like he’s marking you, claiming you as his.

“Look at you,” he snarls, eyes dark and wild, “so fucking needy and fucked out already. You want more, don’t you? You want me to fuck you again and again till you’re shaking and begging?”

You’re panting, cheeks flushed and slick with sweat, mouth open in a desperate pant. You nod, words falling apart in your throat, but your body screams the truth—soaked, slick, full of that raw hunger only he can feed.

His hand snaps forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair again and yanking your head back hard enough to make you gasp in pain and pleasure. His lips find your jawline, biting harshly then licking the bite like a cruel lover savoring his prize.

“You’re mine,” he growls, voice rough like gravel, “and I’m gonna breed you so hard you won’t remember your own name. You’re gonna ride me until you’re leaking all over my cock, crying my name like the filthy slut you are.”

You moan, trembling, the words like fire in your veins. You feel so empty and so full at once—your pussy dripping, clenching, burning from how much you’ve already taken, but still aching for more.

Without warning, he flips you over with brutal strength, pressing your chest down to the mattress. Your breath catches as he slaps your ass hard, a loud smack echoing in the room.

“On your hands and knees. Take it like the good slut you are.”

You obey instantly, hips jerking back when he lines up and slams back inside you. His cock stretches you deep and hard, driving into you with rough, punishing thrusts that make your vision swim.

His hands grip your hips and then slide up to your waist, squeezing hard, one hand trailing down to find your clit. He rubs it fast, cruel, making you squeal and shake as he fucks you harder.

“Look at this pussy—mine, dripping all over my cock,” he growls, voice thick with lust and satisfaction. “You gonna take every drop I give you? Gonna let me breed you full?”

You’re choking on a sob, biting your lip so hard it bleeds, body trembling in pure overstimulation. His cock pushes deeper, hitting places that make you scream.

His hand shoots forward, grabbing your hair again, yanking your head back so you meet his gaze.

“Say it,” he commands, teeth flashing, “Say you’re mine.”

“Mine…” you gasp, tears streaming,

“That’s it. Good girl.”

His thrusts speed up, pounding into you with merciless force, hitting deeper, stretching you wide until you’re shaking violently beneath him.

Your moans turn into desperate cries as you cum again, hard and wild, pussy clenching so tight around him he groans deep in his throat.

And then—his own body tenses, hips jerking as he empties inside you, filling you with hot, sticky ropes of cum. You’re so full you feel like you might burst, but he holds you tight, fucking you through every pulse until he’s spent.

Finally, he collapses next to you, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you close.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, voice low and satisfied, “always.”

☆ ANAXAGORAS !

Anaxa’s eye bore into yours like a predator sizing up his prize. The heat in the room was thick enough to suffocate, but you barely noticed—because you were already drowning in the feeling of him beneath you, the way his body pressed up, claiming every inch of your skin.

He smirked, that slow, dangerous smile that promised both pleasure and pain. “Are you sure you’re not some kind of fucking porn star?” His voice was low, teasing, laced with a hunger that made your breath hitch.

You flushed, heart pounding as you rolled your hips over him, feeling the thick length of his cock pressing deliciously against your slick core. “Maybe I am,” you whispered, biting your lip. “Maybe you’re just lucky enough to find out.”

Anaxa chuckled, a throaty sound that sent vibrations right through your bones. His hands slid up your sides, fingers curling around your ribs before slipping under your shirt to cup your tits. The warmth of his palms set your skin on fire.

His thumbs found your nipples instantly, flicking and pinching with expert precision. You gasped, hips stuttering as a sharp spike of pleasure radiated through you. “God, you’re so fucking sensitive,” he murmured, eyes gleaming with cruel delight.

You whimpered, arching into his touch as he tightened his grip. “Don’t stop,” you begged breathlessly. “Please.”

Anaxa’s grin deepened. “You’re such a dirty little girl, begging like that.” His fingers pinched harder, rolling your nipples between thumb and forefinger until you squirmed under his hands.

You leaned forward, lips brushing against his jaw, breath hot and shaky. “Make me yours,” you whispered, “Breed me, Anaxa. Fill me up.”

His hands dropped from your chest, one sliding to grip your hip firmly while the other tangled in your hair, pulling your head back just enough so you met his smoldering gaze.

“Ride me like you mean it,” he growled, voice low and dangerous.

You lowered yourself slowly onto him, every inch of his thick cock sliding deep inside you. The sensation was overwhelming—hot, full, and utterly consuming. You closed your eyes, savoring the way he stretched you, the way your bodies fit perfectly together.

Anaxa’s hands gripped your hips, steadying you as you began to move. You set a slow, steady rhythm, hips rolling forward, grinding down onto him like you were claiming him as yours.

He moaned, low and rough, fingers digging into your skin. “That’s it, Show me how badly you want this.”

You bit your lip, cheeks flushing hotter as you picked up the pace, bouncing on him harder, hips snapping with urgent need. The slick sound of skin sliding against skin filled the room.

Anaxa’s hands roamed your body—down your back, tracing the curve of your ass, up your sides again, before settling on your breasts. His thumbs returned to your nipples, flicking and twisting them with expert teasing.

Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut. The mixture of pain and pleasure was intoxicating.

“You’re such a fucking good girl for me,” he whispered, voice thick with desire. “So wet, so ready. You’re made to take me like this.”

You gasped as his cock pulsed inside you, hitting deep with every thrust. You felt your body tightening, the coil of pleasure building faster and faster.

Anaxa leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re going to come for me, I want to see you lose control.”

Your hands clenched into fists at his shoulders as your hips moved frantically, desperate for release. The warmth in your tummy bloomed, spreading out in waves of heat and dizzying pleasure.

“Fuck, yes,” you moaned, voice breaking. “Anaxa—please.”

He growled, thrusting up harder, faster. His grip on your hips tightened, nails biting into your skin as he chased his own climax.

Your body tensed, muscles trembling as the first orgasm crashed over you, hot and overwhelming. You cried out, head thrown back as you rode the wave, trembling beneath him.

Anaxa didn’t let up, driving into you with fierce determination, pushing you through your high and straight into his own.

His breath came out ragged, voice thick with need as he cursed your name, releasing deep inside you with a shudder.

The heat of his seed filled you completely, and you felt yourself soften around him, a delicious haze settling over your senses.

He pulled you close, arms wrapping around your waist, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Mine,” he whispered, lips brushing over your temple. “Always mine.”

You smiled, heart pounding, chest rising and falling beneath his steady hands. “Forever.”

Anaxa’s fingers drifted back to your nipples, pinching and rolling the sensitive buds even as he held you. “Look at you—marked, full, and dripping for me.”

You shivered, nerves raw and trembling, but burning with satisfaction.

“You’re my perfect girl,” he murmured, voice rough with pride. “And I’m never letting you go.”

Your breath hitched again as his lips trailed down your neck, teeth grazing softly.

“Ride you again?” you whispered, needy and bold.

Anaxa laughed, deep and satisfied. “Always.”

You rose up, hips moving slow at first, savoring the feeling of his cock filling you, then faster, harder, until the room echoed with your cries and his low groans.

He teased your nipples mercilessly, flicking and pinching, the pleasure sharp and delicious, pushing you closer to the edge again and again.

“Come for me, baby doll,” he growled. “Fill me up, show me how good you are.”

Your body clenched, eyes closing tight as another shuddering orgasm tore through you.

Anaxa matched you, crashing over the edge with a groan, his seed hot and wild inside you.

You collapsed together, sweat-slick skin pressed tight.

“Porn star,” he whispered with a smirk, voice teasing but full of love. “That’s exactly what you are.”

☆ AVENTURINE !

Aventurine’s grin was slow and knowing as he watched you settle onto his lap, the heat between your bodies already thick enough to choke on. His fingers traced lazy patterns across your thighs, teasing the bare skin visible beneath your skirt as you straddled him like you owned every inch of the bed.

“You like sitting on me like this?” His voice was low, smooth, carrying that teasing edge that made your pulse race. His hands slid up, palms pressing against your hips, fingers digging in just a little, reminding you he was in charge even as you took the lead.

You smirked, hips rocking gently in response, feeling him hard and ready beneath you. “Maybe I do.”

His breath hitched as you pressed closer, the wet heat of your slick folds brushing his cock, already thick and aching inside his pants. He tugged at the waistband of his trousers, sliding them down with a lazy, possessive tug until his length sprang free—long, thick, and already glistening with precome.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he murmured, hands gripping your hips tighter, thumbs tracing circles on your skin. “Look at you, all wet and hungry.”

You leaned down, lips brushing his jaw, voice breathy and low, “You want to taste me?”

Without hesitation, he tipped his head, catching your mouth in a slow, deep kiss that burned with heat and promise. His tongue slipped inside, exploring, claiming, as his hands roamed your back, pulling you flush against him.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails raking gently, teasing him as you slid your hips forward, rubbing yourself against his bare cock. The slick, sloppy sound of skin meeting skin filled the air, wet and messy.

He groaned into your mouth, hands moving to your breasts, cupping them hard. His thumbs flicked over your nipples, rolling the hardened buds until you shivered against him, breath hitching.

“God, your tits are fucking perfect,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to suck one nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing lightly, sucking and biting with delicious possessiveness.

You gasped, arching into him, slick folds grinding harder against his cock as you felt him pressing up, aching to slide inside you. His hands moved lower, gripping your hips as he lifted you up and down, slow and steady.

“Ride me,” he commanded softly, voice thick with need. “Make a mess on me.”

You sank down onto him, slick warmth swallowing his length as you moved in a steady, slow rhythm. The bed creaked beneath you, the slick, sloppy sounds of your bodies moving together filling the room.

His hands gripped your waist, thumbs digging in as he held you close, pressing his chest to your back. His lips brushed the curve of your neck, leaving hot kisses that made you shiver.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, voice low and possessive. “So fucking perfect.”

You leaned forward, hands on his chest, grinding harder as the coil inside you tightened. His cock pulsed inside you, thick and demanding, filling you completely.

His fingers slid under your shirt again, squeezing your tits roughly, thumbs flicking your nipples as he thrust up into you. The mixture of his hands on your tits and the feeling of him deep inside sent your breath spiraling.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, voice trembling.

He didn’t. His hands rolled your nipples between fingers and thumb, pinching harder now, his cock pistoning inside you with relentless, messy force.

You cried out, the pleasure spilling over, burning through your veins as you came hard, muscles clenching around him, squeezing him deep.

He groaned, voice rough as he followed, releasing with a shuddering growl, thick ropes of cum flooding into you, hot and heavy and marking you.

You collapsed against his chest, breath ragged and sweat-slicked skin pressed tight. His hands still kneaded your tits, thumbs flicking the sensitive nipples as he whispered against your ear, “So fucking beautiful when you come.”

You whimpered, lips brushing his neck. “More.”

He laughed low and dark, hips still twitching as he slid one hand down to your dripping folds, fingers slipping inside you to stroke and tease.

“Always more,” he promised, eyes burning with hunger.

You pushed up, grinding back onto his fingers as he sucked your neck, marking you, claiming you.

His hands tangled in your hair, pulling your head back gently so he could look at you. “You like being my messy little slut?”

You nodded breathlessly, lips parting in a needy smile.

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in another deep, possessive kiss before rolling you onto your back. His hands roamed your body like he was memorizing every curve, every inch of wet skin.

He cupped your breasts again, this time bringing them together as he lined his cock up with your mouth. “Show me how much you want it,” he murmured.

You wrapped your lips around the tip, sucking him slowly, tasting yourself on him, the slick warmth mingling with his salt and musk.

He groaned, hips jerking as you deepened the kiss, his cock filling your mouth, hands tangled in your hair to hold you steady.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dark and hungry. “Such a fucking good girl.”

He flipped you back onto your hands and knees, pressing you into the bed as he knelt behind you. His hands gripped your hips hard, spreading your legs wide.

“You’re so wet,” he growled, pressing his cock against your entrance before sliding inside with a slow, deep thrust that stole your breath.

You cried out, his length stretching you open, filling you completely.

His hands slid up to your chest, squeezing your tits roughly, thumbs pinching your nipples as he started pounding into you from behind, messy and relentless.

The slick sounds of your bodies slapping together filled the room, mixing with your cries and his low, filthy growls.

He reached around to cup your face, brushing your hair back as he whispered, “You’re mine, and I’m never letting go.”

You shivered, body trembling as the coil of pleasure built again, thick and wild.

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, voice rough. “Let me fill you up again.”

Your body clenched, muscles spasming as you came hard, hot, and wild.

He followed, releasing deep inside you once more, his breath ragged as he held you close.

You collapsed together, slick and tangled, the mess of cum and sweat marking the proof of your fire.

He kissed your shoulder, voice soft but still thick with want. “You’re perfect. Always.”

You smiled, flushed and trembling. “Yours.”

☆ SUNDAY !

Sunday doesn’t stop staring.

From the moment you straddle him, skirt rucked up around your waist and nothing underneath, his pretty yellow eyes go wide. His tongue darts across his lip as you sink down, slow, letting him feel every second of his thick cock sliding into your soaking heat.

“Ah—fuck,” he gasps, hands trembling against your thighs, grip tightening like he’s scared you might disappear. “You’re… you feel… you’re too good, it’s too much—”

You lean in, planting both hands on his chest, your hips starting a steady grind, slow at first, then with a messy slap that makes both of you gasp. His wings twitch. Delicate, those opalescent wings behind his ears flutter once—like a flicker of his pleasure leaking out without his permission.

You smirk. “You always this sensitive, or is it just me?”

He groans, high and desperate, his hands flying up to cup your hips. “Just you. Fuck, just you. I never—never felt anyone like this—”

Your pussy squeezes around him hard and he shakes.

“God,” he pants, “You’re gonna ruin me.”

You roll your hips in a deep, dragging circle, the sound of your soaked cunt taking his cock again and again filling the air, lewd and obscene. His head falls back against the pillows, neck exposed, flushed and gleaming with sweat.

“You gonna cum already?” you whisper sweetly, nails dragging across his chest, over the silk of his shirt. “Just from me bouncing on it a little?”

“D-Don’t say it like that—!” His hands jerk against your thighs, trying to grip harder, control something, anything, but you keep riding him with that same smooth rhythm, your pace unbothered, steady, cruel.

He bites his lip hard, hips stuttering underneath you. “I can’t—fuck—slow down—I can’t—”

You grab a fistful of his soft silver hair and yank his head up.

His gasp is filthy, his whole body jolting. The wings twitch twice, shivering behind his ears like they’re about to start fluttering full-on.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” you coo, watching the heat bloom across his cheeks. “Good boy.”

A noise slips from his throat—high, broken—and he chokes on his own breath, trying to thrust up into you even as you keep control of the rhythm. His cock twitches deep inside you, so hot and swollen you can feel the desperation in every twitch of his hips.

“I wanna fill you,” he babbles, helpless. “I need to. You’re gonna take it, right? All of it? Let me stuff you full—make you mine—”

You laugh, filthy and delighted, and bounce harder, the lewd sounds of your bodies clapping together echoing around the room.

“Then do it,” you purr. “Breed me, Sunday.”

His eyes flutter back in his head, hands flying to your ass, squeezing hard as his body tenses—

And then the wings behind his ears start flapping.

Not twitching, flapping. Fast, erratic, panicked with pleasure as he cums inside you hard, his breath stalling, mouth open, hips jerking helplessly. Thick warmth spills inside you, pulsing deep as he fills you to the brim.

“Ahhh—oh fuckfuckfuck—!” he whimpers, panting as your pussy keeps milking him through every wave of orgasm. “It’s so good—I’m gonna—gonna—nghh—”

You don’t stop.

Even as he shakes and trembles, you keep moving, rolling your hips slow and mean, making sure every drop stays buried deep inside. His cock twitches again, and he sobs, clinging to you like his life depends on it.

“I can’t—can’t stop cumming—” he gasps, voice thick and wrecked. “Feels too good—too fucking good—!”

You grab his face, tilting it toward you as you ride him into overstimulation.

“Then don’t stop,” you whisper, voice syrup-sweet. “You wanted to fill me, right? Then make sure it sticks.”

He cries out, hands tangled in your skirt, his breath ragged and broken. His wings keep flapping, wild and frantic with every wave of pleasure that wrecks him.

You slow the pace, dragging his cock deep inside with each bounce, making him feel every squeeze of your walls, every slick movement. He’s whining now, legs trembling, face buried in your chest.

“More…” he breathes. “I need more—can’t stop—I wanna do it again, wanna fill you up again—fuckfuckfuck—”

You grin, raking your fingers through his messy hair.

“You really are needy,” you hum. “Cute.”

He looks up at you, face flushed, lips parted, pupils blown wide. “Say it again,” he pleads. “Say I’m yours. Say you want it—want me to breed you again—”

You ride him slow, deliberate, dragging his cock out almost to the tip before sinking back down with a wet, squelching sound that makes you both moan.

“Breed me again, Sunday,” you whisper, voice hot in his ear. “Put another load in me. Ruin me.”

He whimpers.

His cock twitches violently, already hard again despite the mess dripping between your thighs. He grabs your hips and begs— “Pleasepleaseplease, let me, I can, I swear, I’m gonna give you everything—”

You lean down, mouth at his ear, whispering filth while grinding your clit against him.

His wings flutter again, light and frantic, like they’re betraying every desperate, aching feeling he can’t put into words.

You kiss his cheek, sweet and cruel.

“Then give me everything, sweetheart.”

Sunday is panting underneath you, his flushed chest rising and falling fast like he just ran a marathon. His soft white hair sticks to his forehead, his yellow eyes glazed over as he tries to remember how to speak.

You’re still on top, your thighs sticky and sore, cum dripping out of you in slow, hot spurts, but you don’t move. His cock is still buried inside, twitching weakly, too sensitive, too hard again.

His trembling fingers trail up to your hips. You watch him gulp, throat bobbing, his mouth barely working before he blurts out—

“…Are you a porn star or somethin’?”

You blink. Then laugh, hard.

He looks up at you like you’re magic and sin wrapped together, his pretty little wings flapping weakly behind his ears as he stares in complete awe.

“I’m serious,” he breathes, sounding dazed. “That was—that was not normal. No one’s ever—fucked me like that—talked like that—rode me like—like you knew exactly how to break me—”

You smirk, leaning down, your lips brushing over his jaw.

“Poor baby,” you purr, voice like warm syrup. “You thought you could handle it. Thought you could just lie back and breed me like it was gonna be easy.”

He groans like you punched the air out of his lungs.

“You made me—f-fuck, I came so hard I think I blacked out,” he admits, his cheeks bright red. “My legs don’t even work. You milked me.”

Your hips roll again, slow and taunting. He yelps, body jolting underneath you, tears prickling in the corners of his pretty golden eyes.

“You’re still hard,” you whisper, amused, “and you’re still inside. You wanna go again?”

He makes a broken, needy sound in the back of his throat, hands gripping your waist like you’re the only thing tethering him to reality.

“Yes,” he pants. “God, yes. Please, again. I’ll cum again, I swear—I’ll give you so much—I wanna fill you until it leaks out when you walk—‘til I can see it dripping down your thighs—”

His wings twitch harder, that fluttering picking up again. You grab one fistful of his hair and pull, and he moans.

“Such a messy little thing,” you say sweetly. “You like that your cum’s dripping out of me, huh?”

“Yes,” he whimpers.

You clench around him on purpose, just to watch his jaw go slack and his back arch off the sheets.

“That’s why you thought I was a porn star?” you tease, licking along his cheek. “Because no one’s ever let you cum this much?”

“N-No one’s ever—talked like that—fucked like that—”

You start to move again, your pace a little meaner now, riding him slow but deep, messy wet sounds filling the air as another rush of cum spills from between your thighs.

His head falls back, mouth open, eyes fluttering.

“Oh fuck—again—” he gasps. “You’re gonna make me cum again—so fast—ah—ahhh fuck, you’re perfect—”

You lean close to his ear, your voice low and hot.

“Gonna knock me up this time?” you whisper. “Gonna make it take?”

He screams.

His hands dig into your hips, slamming you down onto him as he cums again, hard and fast, stuffing you even fuller than before. His wings beat out of control behind his ears, frantic, like they’re about to lift him off the bed.

“Oh fuck—baby—fuck—it’s so much—!” he moans, sobbing as he pumps you full again. “I can feel it—it’s everywhere—fuckfuckfuck—”

You rock against him gently as he twitches, body shaking under you.

By the time you finally still, both of you ruined and soaking in his cum, he’s just staring up at you. In love. Destroyed. Worshipful.

“…You gotta tell me if this was real,” he whispers, hoarse. “Because if you’re not a porn star, I think I just saw God.”

You grin.

“I’m not a porn star, sweetheart,” you whisper, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “I’m worse.”

And Sunday’s pretty little wings shiver all over again.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[whorelaud]

reader doing the ‘he’s the best big brother ever’ trend on bf!rafe warnings none/rafe being salty in reader’s comments

Rafe’s gaze hovered over your figure, admiring as you shuffled around to adjust the phone positioned on the counter. You set the timer, stealing a glance in Rafe’s direction, who stood and observed like a lost puppy; unaware of what to do with himself. “I’ll start recording on three, please don’t say or do anything weird, okay? My account is done for if another post of mine gets flagged.”

“Alright baby, start it.” He assured, his statement not convincing whatsoever. You simply rolled your eyes, doing as he ordered, hurrying to press the record button. You straightened up, taking Rafe’s side as you fixed up your hair, instantly flashing the camera a smile when the blue line appeared on the screen. 

Rafe crossed his arms, brows knitting into a frown upon hearing your next words. “If you wanna get to him,” you started, suppressing your giggles as you addressed Rafe with your thumb, then back at your chest. “You’ll have to go through me first.” 

“What are you saying?” Rafe scoffed, slightly taken aback when you turned around, your arms filling the majority of the view. You reached for his face, cupping his cheeks in your hold as you forced his head down, until his eyes leveled with yours. 

Rafe instantly melted when you sweeped him in a kiss, arms naturally finding the curve of your waist, in an attempt to deepen the kiss. A groan of complaint bubbled out of his throat when you moved away, not giving him the satisfaction of getting what he wants, and instead turning back to the camera, with his hand loosely hugging your side. 

“He’s the best big brother ever!” You uttered between chuckles,  sensing the way Rafe stiffened from your side. 

“What the fuck?!” His eyes widened with shock, flashing you a look of disbelief, watching as you erupted into a fit of laughter, unable to maintain character at your boyfriend’s reaction. “Best what now? Delete that shit!” 

“Oh my–” you continue to giggle, amused by the hint of annoyance washing over Rafe’s expression. “You’re the best, I can't ask for a better brother figure–” 

“Enough with your bullshit, man!” He interrupted before you could further speak, aiming for the phone. “You and your stupid TikTok challenges.” 

“Wait, Rafe!” You snatched your phone from his hold, knowing the latter;  he was probably going to delete it. “I’m posting it, your reaction is funny.” 

“You’re not posting that!” He argued, groaning when he strived to take your phone, merely for you to dodge his hold. “C’mon baby, what if they actually think I’m your brother? You already have so many thirsty men in your comments.” 

“Relax, baby.” You rolled your eyes, embracing the boy in a hug, too engrossed by the video on your phone to spare him a glance. “It’s a trend, besides, who in their right mind kisses their brother?” 

Yeah, maybe you should’ve listened to your boyfriend. 

–

andy6928h Let daddy take you out on a date

rafecameron Hop off her dick

alibabefaen Check your Dms for A surprise 👅

rafecameron This is not funny.

user6292936 Get rid of that twig hun 🌹 I will treat you so much better

rafecameron She is completely fine and content with me, therefore, she will NOT be needing you, thanks.

rafecameron Actually yk what f*ck you 🖕🏼

rafecameron Stop hitting on MY girl please and thanks. She is MINE.

a/n old trend ik... but this was too cute not to do :'(

[kateschi]

the katsuki bakugou effect

synopsis: where your husband, katsuki, has a way of calming your daughter like no one else can.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

katsuki’s ability to calm your daughter is nothing short of magical.

it doesn’t matter how fussy or inconsolable she gets; the moment he holds her, everything changes.

her tiny fists are no longer clenched in frustration, her loud cries slowly taper off, and her little body relaxes in his arms. his presence soothes her in a way no one else’s can.

you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been at the end of your rope, trying everything you can think of to calm her.

you’ve rocked her gently, hummed her favorite lullaby, even tried a little soft talking, but nothing works.

when your baby’s tears start to escalate, and her little body trembles in distress, you find yourself on the edge of exhaustion.

but then katsuki walks in.

he steps over to you, and with a quick kiss to the top of your head, scoops her from your arms, then instantly, the tension in the room lifts.

his rough hands gently cradle her, and he murmurs something too quiet for you to catch.

you can’t help but watch in awe as she goes from wailing to calm in just a few seconds, her little face nuzzling against his chest. it’s like a switch flips, and you swear you can see her sigh in relief.

it’s always the same. as soon as katsuki’s around, she settles. she looks at him with a calmness that’s impossible to ignore, her tiny lips pouting slightly as she stares up at him.

her little hands grasp weakly at his shirt, her body relaxing into his hold as if everything is suddenly right with the world. and katsuki just holds her, always.

“you’re a softie,” you tease one day as you watch him rock her back and forth.

katsuki shoots you a glare, but it’s softened by the sight of your daughter curled peacefully in his arms. “shut up,” he mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it. and you can’t help but smile.

you cross the room, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. he stiffens for a moment, but the warmth in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

“I’m serious,” you say. “you’re the softest guy I know.”

he lets out a gruff chuckle, his scowl deepening, though it's clear he's enjoying your attention as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

a few weeks later, you’re all at a class 1-a reunion, gathered at the old dorms. the atmosphere is lively, with the familiar banter of your old classmates filling the air.

midoriya’s sitting on the couch, holding your daughter carefully in his arms, cooing softly at her as the rest of the group laughs and talks around them.

but suddenly, the peaceful mood shifts. your girl begins to fidget in midoriya’s arms, her little face scrunching up in that all-too-familiar way before the whimpers start.

a soft cry escapes her lips, and then it builds, escalating into the full-blown wail you know so well. midoriya looks startled, glancing around as if searching for some way to calm her.

“uh, uh, it’s okay,” midoriya says, trying to gently rock her in his arms. “it’s okay, sweetheart."

but your baby’s cries only seem to grow louder, her face turning red as her hands flail helplessly. you glance at katsuki, already knowing what’s coming next.

without a word, katsuki stands up from his seat, the others giving him a bit of space as he walks over.

his eyes lock on your daughter, and there’s something about his gaze that makes everything else fade into the background. he’s not rushing, not frantic.

he just calmly steps in, his arms outstretched.

midoriya silently hands the little girl over. as soon as katsuki has her, everything shifts. he holds her against his chest, and his rough hand gently pats her back.

his thumb brushes against her little arm, his voice soft. “it’s me,” he murmurs, his tone low and steady. “it’s okay.”

your little girl hiccups, her cries fading almost immediately, and then she stops. her lips jut out in a pout, still a little upset, but no longer in distress.

she stares up at him, her wide eyes searching his face as if recognizing him. and then, she settles into the crook of his arm, her tiny hands grasping weakly at the fabric of his shirt.

the room is silent for a moment, everyone watching in awe as your girl rests peacefully in katsuki’s arms. he doesn’t even seem to notice the attention.

his focus is entirely on her, his expression softening as she calms.

you smile to yourself, watching him from the sidelines. even after all this time, katsuki never ceases to surprise you with how much he’s grown, how much he’s learned.

you remember when he first found out he was going to be a father, and how nervous he’d been (though he would never admit that).

but now, here he is, effortlessly calming your daughter.

“man, you’re a real softie now, huh?” kirishima teases from across the room, a wide grin plastered on his face.

katsuki’s eyes narrow immediately, and he glares at his friend. “shut the hell up, red.”

but the teasing doesn’t stop there.

kaminari, who’s been silently watching the entire scene, leans forward with a smirk. “I can’t believe it…the ‘explosion hero’ is actually the baby whisperer now?”

katsuki frowns, and his glare remains trained on the two of them. but there’s a slight restraint in his movements—one that’s only noticeable to you.

he’s trying to stay calm, and it’s all because he doesn’t want to wake your little girl up. you can practically feel the tension in the air as his patience wears thin.

sero, naturally, chimes in with a smirk of his own. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, man. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be ‘aww’ing over a baby like some mushy ball of fluff.”

katsuki’s mouth opens, ready to fire back, but then he glances down at your sleeping daughter, her little chest rising and falling peacefully, and he shuts it again.

for a split second, his fierce expression softens. he takes a deep breath, holding the baby a little tighter.

“you’re lucky she’s asleep, or I would've blasted your asses to oblivion,” he grumbles, but the threat is half-hearted.

kaminari lets out a nervous laugh. “jeez, man, alright, we get it.”

you can’t help but chuckle softly, leaning against the doorframe as you watch them. 

katsuki’s eyes narrow in warning, but despite his frown, there’s a warmth to his expression that doesn’t go unnoticed when he looks back at d/n.

it’s moments like these when the rest of the world seems to disappear, and it's just him, her, and the quiet calm they share.

sighing in resignation, he shifts slightly, walking over to you. you watch as he makes his way across the room, still cradling your daughter in his arms, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she drifts into a deeper sleep.

you don’t say anything at first, but as he gets closer, you meet his gaze with a soft smile.

there’s no denying the softening effect he has when it’s just the two of you—well, the three of you, if you count the tiny bundle in his arms.

he leans into you as he steps to your side, his broad shoulders brushing against yours, and without a word, he tilts his head slightly toward you, seeking the quiet comfort of being beside you.

“I told them to shut up,” katsuki mutters, his voice lower now, quieter. his usual fiery energy is subdued, and he seems content to just be in your presence.

he exhales slowly, letting the weight of the situation fade away. you reach up and gently touch his arm, a soft laugh escaping you.

"she's lucky you’re her dad," you murmur, your eyes flickering down to where your daughter is curled against his chest. "you’re so patient with her."

katsuki scoffs lightly, rolling his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays his true feelings.

“I’m not some damn pushover,” he mutters, but there’s a softness in his tone that makes you want to kiss him.

and you do.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[moonlightwritingf1]

Slow Burn | LN4

✿﹒❀ summary ━━━━━━━ Though they’d been dating for three months and kept things slow and respectful, tonight—alone in his apartment—all that patient restraint melts away as Y/N playfully presses herself against Lando, clothes still on. She takes the lead, grinding against him until they both come.

✿﹒❀ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

✿﹒❀ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.6k

✿﹒❀ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, dry humping

Based on this request.

Y/N had landed in Monaco late that afternoon, nerves and excitement tangled in her stomach like a knot she couldn’t untie. She still remembered the heat that hit her the second she stepped out of the taxi—the thick, golden warmth of the early Mediterranean evening pressing against her skin. Normally, the view of the calm marina outside Lando’s apartment would’ve made her pause, maybe even breathe it in. But not this time. She barely glanced at it. All she could think about was getting upstairs and seeing him. It had been two weeks. Just fourteen days, but each one had felt like a month. His schedule had been relentless, and she’d felt every single second of the distance between them.

They’d officially been a couple for three months, yet still hadn’t had sex, something Y/N had insisted on taking slow because she was inexperienced, and Lando had respected her wishes every step of the way. He never pushed, never crossed her boundaries, but that didn’t mean the tension wasn’t there, simmering just beneath the surface. He was every bit as horny and desperate for her as she sometimes felt in those lingering moments before sleep.

She let herself in with the spare key he’d given her weeks ago, the quiet beep of the electronic lock announcing her arrival. The blast of cool air hit her as she stepped inside, sending little shivers racing up her arms. “Lando?” she called out, but there was no answer. He was probably in the shower or in the bedroom. The living room was spotless—no hoodies draped over the couch, no controllers left on the floor, nothing out of place. It made her smile. He’d definitely tidied up for her. Just the thought of him doing that, of him caring about what she’d see when she walked in, sent a flutter through her chest and down to her stomach.

A minute later, she heard him behind her. She turned and let out a laugh of pure delight when she saw him: hair damp, wearing a loose T-shirt and gray joggers, that impossibly boyish grin stretching across his face. It was the grin that had charmed her from day one.

“Surprise,” he murmured, stepping up to her and sliding his arms around her waist. The moment his fingers touched her, every ounce of tension she’d carried on the flight evaporated. “I was trying to look cool and nonchalant for when you walked in,” he teased. “Figured you’d let yourself in, but I couldn’t wait to say hi.”

“You look ridiculous,” she joked softly, sliding her arms around his neck, rising up on tiptoe. “Ridiculously cute, I mean.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, letting out a playful groan. “God, I missed you, baby. I missed you so damn much.”

“I missed you too.”

Lando’s lips brushed hers in a kiss that started sweet but soon deepened as days of longing flared to the surface. She tasted faint traces of mint toothpaste—he must have just brushed his teeth—and the scent of his shower gel made her dizzy with need. She melted into him, allowing his hands to roam along her back in slow, reverent strokes.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, he took her suitcase into his bedroom. She couldn’t help following, watching the gentle definition of muscle shift beneath his T-shirt as he walked. It always amazed her that he was so physically strong yet tender with her in every movement.

They decided to spend a quiet evening at home, cooking a quick meal and then curling up to watch a movie. He insisted it should be a comedy, claiming he’d had enough adrenaline for the week and wanted to relax. She settled beside him on the couch, her thigh pressed close against his. The warmth of his body already had her feeling hyper aware of every small contact.

“Which one do you want?” he asked, flipping through streaming platforms with the remote.

“You choose,” she replied, tucking her legs beneath her. She couldn’t concentrate enough to care. All her senses kept drifting back to the fact that Lando was right here, so close, smelling of soap and aftershave, heartbeat strong under that T-shirt.

He picked some random rom-com that neither of them really paid attention to once it started. She tried to follow the plot, but his presence was too distracting. Every time he shifted, her nerves went spiked. A few times, she noticed him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

After about half an hour, the movie blurred into the background, and her thoughts swirled with longing. She snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder, her hand drifting up to toy with a strand of his curls. Lando exhaled a shaky breath at her touch.

“You okay?” she whispered, biting her lip mischievously. She knew exactly what she was doing—turning on the playful energy that had teased him mercilessly before they got together.

He slid an arm around her, pulling her even closer. “Just happy to have you here,” he murmured, pressing a small kiss to her temple.

She wasn’t sure what came over her right then, but the two-week separation had done a number on her self-control. She found herself leaning in to press her lips to his throat, just beneath his jawline. He stilled, inhaling sharply. She grazed her teeth along his pulse point, gently, testing. He let out a soft moan.

“That’s not fair,” he breathed. “You know how sensitive I am there.”

“Mm, do I?” she teased, kissing the spot again. “I thought maybe you’d forgotten about me after all those days away.”

“You’re insane,” he chuckled, the laugh turning to a low growl when she nipped his skin. “God, I missed this.”

Their focus on the movie faded bit by bit, until it was nothing more than soft flickers of light playing across the room—background noise to the tension slowly crackling between them. Her hand slid up his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. God, he felt warm. Real. She bit the inside of her cheek, nerves twisting with want. How far was she ready to go tonight? She wasn’t sure she could handle going all the way—not yet—but she wanted more. More of his touch, more of that fire sparking in her skin every time he looked at her. More than they'd ever dared to cross before.

Without speaking, she swung a leg over his lap so she faced him. Her knees sank into the couch cushions on either side of his hips, and she saw how his pupils dilated with barely-concealed hunger. She set her hands on his shoulders.

“You’re torturing me,” he breathed, sliding his hands to her waist.

She smiled and leaned in to press her lips against his softly. “No,” she whispered against his mouth, “I’m rewarding you for waiting.”

He groaned low in his throat. “I’d wait forever for you, but holy hell, baby…”

Before he could finish, she captured his lips again, guiding him into a deep, hungry kiss that made her entire body tingle. Their tongues brushed, sending sparks through her veins, and she felt him squeeze her hips. His warm palms skimmed the small of her back, urging her closer. She shifted until she was firmly seated on his lap, feeling the subtle but undeniable presence of him beneath his joggers. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but she could still feel the weight and potential of him pressing against her, and it sent a thrill straight through her core.

She rocked her hips forward experimentally, testing the friction, and felt him twitch beneath her. His breath hitched, and his hands tightened on her waist, pulling her even closer. She did it again, this time with a little more intention, and the soft moan that escaped his lips was all the encouragement she needed.

“God, Y/N,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice already rough with desire. “What are you doing to me?”

She smirked, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. “Just seeing what happens,” she teased, her voice low and husky. “Does it feel good?”

He groaned, leaning his forehead against hers. “You’re killing me, baby. You know exactly how good it feels.”

She rocked her hips again, slower this time, dragging herself against him in a way that made his breath catch. She could feel him growing harder beneath her, and the power it gave her was intoxicating. His hands slid down to her thighs, gripping them as if he was trying to ground himself, but she could see the tension building in him, the way his jaw clenched and his eyes filled with need.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she whispered, her lips trailing along his jaw. “So desperate for me. Do you want more?”

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, his hands moving to her hips, guiding her movements. “Don’t stop, please. Just like that.”

She obliged, rolling her hips in a steady rhythm, feeling the heat growing between them. His body responded to her every movement, his hardness pressing insistently against her. 

He murmured her name, voice thick with longing, as she kept rocking her hips against his now-hard length. He let out a ragged breath, burying a hand in her hair to keep her mouth on his. She kissed him deeper, tongues tangling, moaning softly when he matched her intensity.

When she pulled back for air, he looked up at her with wide, lust-blown eyes. “I—I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”

“Shh,” she whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry. I want this. Not everything, but more…like this.”

He swallowed hard. “Oh, trust me, I want it too.”

She took the initiative, grinding down on him again, more firmly this time. His hands tightened on her waist, a broken moan escaping him.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he muttered, eyes half-lidded, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

She felt a rush of warmth flood her own body. Seeing him like this—so undone—did things to her. It was a heady mixture of power and tenderness. For months, he’d been the one pursuing her, chasing her, practically begging for her attention. And now she was giving it, wholeheartedly, indulging in the way he reacted.

She set a slow, rhythmic motion, rolling her hips forward so that her core brushed over the prominent bulge in his pants again and again. It was still separated by layers of fabric, but even through the cotton, the friction was enough to send jolts of pleasure skittering across her nerves.

“Baby, your body…holy shit,” he breathed, letting his head fall back against the couch, his eyes fluttering shut. “You feel so good.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her chest to his, and kissed his jaw, nibbling gently. “Yeah? Tell me.”

A strangled sound left his throat. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane. I can feel how warm you are. I can’t believe you’re—God, I…I can’t think straight when you’re on my lap like this.”

She smirked and shifted again, taking a moment to relish his reaction. He visibly trembled, his breathing coming in shallow pants. She dipped her head to whisper near his ear. “I want you to feel good,” she said, words rolling from her tongue more boldly than she ever expected of herself. “I want you to love this, Lando.”

He swallowed. “I do love it. More than you know. I’m so fucking in love with you. I’ve wanted this for…God, feels like forever. I just—I don’t want to push you.”

“You’re not,” she assured him, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. Her next sentence came out laced with mischief: “I’m doing exactly what I want to do.”

She braced her hands on his shoulders, using them as leverage to move her hips in deeper, firmer circles. The friction, oh God, it shot waves of pleasure up her spine. She was already beginning to feel a persistent ache between her thighs, an ache that made her want more contact, more pressure. He groaned, arching his back to press against her.

“Fuck,” he breathed, a desperate edge creeping into his tone. “You keep moving like that, I might lose it.”

She moved even more deliberately, letting out a small gasp at the delicious friction. “Yeah? You going to cum in your pants for me?” she teased, not entirely sure where this surge of confidence had come from, but thrilling in it.

His cheeks flamed, and he swallowed harshly. “I—damn it, you’re so…you have no idea. You could probably make me do anything right now.”

She giggled softly, though her own breath was unsteady. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” he rasped, his voice tight. “I’ve never—God, I’ve never felt this turned on from just…grinding. ”

She bit her lip, pressing herself against him again, feeling the hardness strained beneath his boxers and joggers. “I like that,” she murmured, “knowing I can make you feel like that.”

He looked up at her, eyes glazed with desire, but there was such fondness there. “I’m obsessed with you,” he admitted, voice quivering. “Completely, stupidly obsessed. I’d do anything for you. I—ughh—” He cut himself off with a moan as she slid forward again, pressing deliberately against the throbbing shape beneath her.

She could practically feel the tension tightening in his body, ready to snap. Her own pulse hammered in her ears. The peak of her own orgasm drew closer with each rub of fabric on flesh. The friction was maddening. She pressed her forehead to his, panting. “Fuck, Lando. This is…this is so hot.”

“You’re telling me,” he groaned, tilting his head to capture her lips. His kiss was messy, desperate. They breathed each other in, tongues meeting in urgent strokes. He tasted of need, raw and insistent.

She poured all her frustration from the past weeks into every shift of her hips, whining softly when a wave of pleasure nearly blinded her. Her body was on fire, nerve endings sparked with every move. She curled her fingers into his hair for stability, half-lost in the sensations.

He parted from her lips just long enough to gasp, “You’re so gorgeous…like this…on top of me. God, I love it. I—fuck, I’m close, baby.”

She was right on the edge too, her lower belly tight, throbbing with desperate heat that had her pussy clenching around nothing. Her hips rolled instinctively, chasing friction. She dragged her lips to his ear, breath hot, voice trembling with want. “I’m so fucking close,” she whispered, the words catching in her throat. A flush of shame and boldness twisted through her, but she said it anyway. “Keep talking to me.”

He groaned, eyes rolling back slightly. “You love hearing me lose my mind, huh?”

“Mmm, yes,” she purred. “I love hearing you so turned on for me.”

His breath hitched. “God, I am. I’m so fucking turned on. I love it when you take charge, I love feeling your body, feeling how wet you are, even through your clothes. Shit, I—I can’t believe we can do this with clothes on. My boxers are so fucking tight. I’m losing it.”

Hearing him say such dirty words in that breathless voice made her insides clench. The way he talked to her—so shameless, so fucking dirty—had her clenching around nothing, dripping through her panties, desperate for more. She slammed her hips down against him, grinding hard, chasing the brutal friction like her life depended on it. A loud, broken moan tore from her throat as her clit dragged just right against him. 

“Fuck—right there,” she gasped, breath hitching. The knot in her belly tightened to the point of pain, every muscle trembling, every nerve screaming for that final push. Her body was on fire, on the verge of losing it, ready to fall apart the second he said one more filthy thing. The tension was unbearable—white-hot and pulsing between her legs—so close she could taste it.

His fingers dug into her waist, the pressure of his grip sending a jolt of pleasure through her. “That’s it,” he gasped, his voice ragged and desperate. “Keep going, don’t stop, baby. You feel so fucking amazing. I…I can’t—” His words were cut off as she bent to kiss him fiercely, swallowing his groan. Their tongues tangled again, hot and wet, the kiss deepening with every passing second. She was no longer self-conscious about the needy, breathy noises she made. He drank them in as if they were the sweetest sound, his lips moving against hers with a hunger that matched her own.

Her thighs trembled, the muscles tight and aching as she ground herself against him. “I’m…there,” she whimpered, letting her eyes flutter closed. “Lando, oh my God—” Her voice broke, the pleasure building so intensely that she could barely form words.

“Me too,” he managed, his eyes shut tight, his expression ravaged by ecstasy. “I can’t hold it. You’re gonna make me cum just from this, you have no clue—ah!” His hips jerked upward uncontrollably, his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, desperate for more friction.

She could feel him, hot and hard beneath her, the fabric of his joggers and boxers doing little to disguise the sheer size of him. Her pussy clenched at the thought, the wetness between her thighs growing with every movement. She ground down one last time, pressing her body firmly to his, and everything inside her erupted. A wave of pleasure slammed through her core, drawing a raw cry from her lips. She shook, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp as she clung to him, her orgasm ripping through her with an intensity she had never felt before.

Her pussy throbbed, the sensation almost overwhelming as her clit pulsed against him. She could feel every twitch and throb of her own body as the pleasure radiated outwards, leaving her breathless and trembling. He let out a strangled groan in response, burying his face in her neck as his entire body tensed. She felt him jerk beneath her, his hands clutching her waist with near-desperate force.

“Fuck,” he choked out, his voice trembling. “I’m—God—I’m cumming.”

Oh my God, she thought, her mind going hazy with pleasure. He was cumming, just from this, just from her grinding against him. The realization sent another wave of pleasure crashing through her, her pussy clenching around nothing as she came again, harder this time. She could feel the wetness soaking through her panties, the heat of her arousal mingling with the pressure of his body beneath her.

His cock twitched violently, and she could feel the dampness of his release soaking through the fabric of his boxers. It was so intimate, so raw, and it made her orgasm intensify, rolling through her in pulsing waves. She collapsed against his chest, her body spent and trembling as she rode out the last tremors of her climax. Her head swam with sensation, the world around her fading into a blur as she clung to him, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

He was panting raggedly, half-whimpering into the crook of her neck. His hands slid down to her thighs, his fingers gripping her tightly as if he was afraid she might disappear. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and shaky. “That was…Jesus, Y/N. I’ve never—” He broke off, shaking his head as if he couldn’t find the words.

She shifted slightly, her pussy still throbbing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “I can’t believe that just happened,” she murmured, her voice soft and dazed. “You okay?” she asked softly.

He let out a laugh that was half-disbelieving, half-euphoric. “I’ve never been better. That was… I never came in my pants before. Ever. Not even as a horny teenager.”

She blushed at the admission, a surge of pride coursing through her. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes shining with fondness. “You have no idea what you do to me. That was insane, in the best way. God, I love you.”

Her heart squeezed at the tenderness in his tone. “I love you, too.” She paused, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Was it weird that I, um, basically just used you to get off?”

He burst out laughing, a soft, joyous sound. “Weird? Fuck, no. I loved it. I love it when you take control. You can use me anytime you want, baby.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, pressing a kiss to his nose. “You say that now, but let’s not ruin all your boxers.”

He cracked up, shaking his head in amusement. “If it means you’re on top of me doing that again, I’d happily sacrifice every pair I own.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, shifting a bit on his lap, and felt the wet spot in the front of his joggers. “Sorry,” she said in a small voice. “You’re kind of a mess.”

He shrugged, eyes twinkling. “Worth it. Besides, I can change.”

She blushed, her cheeks heating at the intensity of his gaze.

He smirked, his hands moving to cup her face. “I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “Every time I think I can’t want you more, you do something like this and prove me wrong.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she leaned in to kiss him softly. “I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered against his lips.

He groaned, pulling her closer. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of affection and desire.

She smiled, resting her forehead against his. “I’ll try not to kill you…yet,” she teased, her voice light and playful.

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and she felt a rush of affection for him. She knew they were both exhausted, spent from the intensity of what had just happened, but she couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment as she lay there in his arms. She was safe, she was loved, and she was exactly where she wanted to be.

[lemonlover1110]

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: You should've known that joining Toji in the water would lead to something more.

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Smut, Hot Spring Sex, Vaginal Sex, Riding, Praising, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

“The water’s nice, won’t you get in?” Toji relaxes in the hot spring, eyes viewing your every move. You’re taking too long to get into the water, and Toji feels like he’ll die waiting for you.

“Will you hold on?” You respond with a bit of attitude, not wanting to be rushed. It feels weird to get naked in front of him when he has no underlying intentions. That’s what you assume either way.

“You need to have a little bit more patience.” You tell him, stepping into the water, hands covering your breasts as if Toji hasn’t completely seen you bare before. 

“You’re acting like a prude.” He comments as you settle down beside him. You stick your tongue out at him as you let go of your breasts. “I’ve seen and felt every inch of you–”

“Shut up.” You cut him off, splashing him. He laughs, leaning in and wrapping his hands around your waist. He pulls you closer to him, his task infinitely easier while in the water. “Toji, what are you up to?”

“What does it look like?” There’s a naughty smirk on his face before his lips kiss yours. You put your finger over his lips, stopping him from luring you in.

“In the water?” You ask him, and he hums. He looks at you with pure mischief, knowing that he can’t do what he wants to do. But no one is going to stop him, especially not you. You certainly aren’t stopping him as you mimic the look on his face. “You have to keep it in your pants.”

“I know where to keep it in.” He keeps you on top of him, lips kissing you again. Toji can’t keep his hands to himself for too long, it’s clear to you now. Not that you mind. 

Your tongue enters his mouth, pressing against his own. Toji can’t say that he isn’t surprised by this– And to think that you’re deepening this into something more is a little shocking. But he can’t complain. 

His fingers trail down your back and to your ass. He gives your ass a light slap before his fingers begin to tease your pussy. You should’ve known he had ill intentions the moment he suggested the hot spring. And to think that you were shy while getting in.

Toji bites down your lip before pulling away, “We should make this quick before the water gets too hot.” 

“It’s already burning up.” You respond, lips attacking his neck. You’ll make sure to leave marks on him, a way of telling everyone of your misdeed. 

“You know…” He runs the tip of his dick through your folds. He bites down his lip, slowly pushing himself inside of you. A sigh of relief escapes his lips as he bottoms out, fully feeling you around him. “I didn’t think you’d be the type.”

“Hmmm?” You respond, taking the initiative and bouncing on him. Water is splashing out, getting everywhere due to the unusual movement.

“You’re a prude– Fuck.” He throws his hand back, pleasure getting the best of him before he can even finish his sentence. He’s meeting your halfway, harsh thrusts meeting your slow movements. 

“Prude?” You ask before your lips land on his again. His hands go down to your ass, nails digging into your flesh. You’re moaning into his mouth as his cock hits just the right spot.

“Yeah, you’re a fucking prude.” He responds when you pull away. Though you’ve proved him wrong, otherwise you wouldn’t be riding him right now. You’re making a fucking mess everywhere, moaning his name as loudly as you can.

“While I’m on top of you? Huh?” You cup his face, forcing Toji to look at you as you ride him. Toji lets out a low laugh, feeling his body get hotter by the second. You’re getting tighter around him, getting close to your release.

“You feel so good.” He says before his tongue glides up your neck and he sucks on that sweet spot on your neck. His thrusts get a little rougher, slowly losing control.

“Fuck, Toji!” You moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you reach your climax. Your nails hold onto his shoulders for support, digging into his skin. 

“Good job.” He ends up praising you, slapping your ass again. His lips kiss you again, drowning out any moaning from you. He’s sloppy with his kiss.

He’s fully taken over now. Your body has given up, and Toji keeps moving to meet his own release. Not only are you a prude, but selfish as well. 

“Toji–” You gasp, pulling away as he fills you up with his seed. He’s making a complete mess out of you even though you’re here to clean up and relax. So much for that.

“Hmmm, you’re so great.” He tells you, remaining inside of you. He holds you down, unable to move. 

“Let me go, I have to clean up again.” You reply as you place soft kisses on his shoulder. Your words contradict your actions. “Plus, it’s hot in here.”

“Thought you said it was already burning up.” He teases, making you roll your eyes. Before you can argue with him, he kisses you again, though there’s no underlying intent in it. “You know, I should bring you here with me more often. You’re better than a rubber ducky.”

“You’re too old to use rubber duckies.” You chuckle, and he smirks.

“Yeah, that’s why I need you to join me more often.”