#friction modifiers

[pravalika]

Engine Oil Additives Market - Forecast (2023 - 2028)

Global engine oil additives market is valued 10,853$ million in the year 2017 and is anticipated to grow at a CAGR of 3.2% during the forecast period 2018-2023.

[delilahsturniolo]

— ♡ west side . . . c.s

in which . . . chris proves to you you’re the only one he wants after you get upset about other girls being all over him.

warnings . . . smut, fwb!chris, dry humping, kissing, unprotected sex, pet names, dirty talk

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

POSITIONS WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #10

you don’t mean to get jealous. you’re not usually the type. but when you saw her, standing way too close, fingers grazing his arm like she had any right to. something in your chest tightened. something warm and irrational and sharp. chris didn’t even touch her. didn’t say anything flirtatious. but he laughed at something she said, and for one second, it looked like she was the only person in the room.

and that’s what did it. now you’re curled up on the couch in the corner of his apartment, arms crossed over your chest, your face turned away every time he tries to catch your eye. he notices. of course he does. “you mad?” he asks quietly, stepping between your knees. you don’t answer right away. your jaw clenches. you keep your eyes trained on the floor, even as his hands ghost over your thighs.

“babe,” he murmurs, voice lower now. “look at me.” you don’t. not until his fingers gently grip your chin and tilt your face up. his eyes are soft. unreadable. but there’s a glint there, something dark. something that makes your breath stutter.“you really think i’d want anyone else?” he asks, just barely above a whisper. you try to roll your eyes, but it’s weak. “she was all over you.”

“and i wasn’t looking at her.”

you blink up at him, mouth parting slightly. he leans down, closer, hands sliding up your thighs as he cages you in with his body. “you don’t get it,” he says, voice raspier now. “i don’t see anyone but you.” you swallow hard. “prove it.” and that’s all it takes. his lips are on yours before you can take another breath, hot, claiming, full of something thick and wild. his hands grip your hips and he pulls you up, effortlessly guiding you onto his lap like he needs you there.

“you wanna act jealous?” he mutters against your mouth. “fine. i’ll remind you who you belong to.” your legs wrap around his waist as he settles back into the couch, and you straddle him, chest to chest. his fingers slide under your shirt, palms dragging up your sides, slow and hungry. he kisses you like he’s starved for it. like no one else has ever touched his lips but you. you grind down on him, hips rolling instinctively, and he lets out a breathy moan that makes your stomach twist. his hands go to your ass, squeezing firmly as he presses you down harder.

“right there,” he groans. “fuck, that’s it.” you pull back just enough to look at him, pupils blown wide, lips swollen. “tell me,” you whisper. “tell me i’m the only one.” he grabs the back of your neck, not rough, but firm, eyes locked to yours. “you’re the only one i think about,” he says lowly, voice like gravel. “the only one i dream about. you’re it for me. no one else.” you drag your hands through his hair, tugging lightly at the roots. he groans again, his hips twitching up into yours. you feel how hard he is beneath you. how desperate.

“then show me,” you breathe. “make me feel it.” he kisses you again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against yours like he’s trying to mark you from the inside out. his hands never stop moving, gripping, exploring, worshipping. like every curve of your body belongs to him. and tonight? it does. he leans in close, lips brushing your ear. “i want you to remember this the next time you get jealous,” he whispers. “no one else can make me feel the way you do. no one else gets this version of me.”you whimper when he rolls his hips up, creating that perfect friction. your body melts into his, every nerve alight, every thought wiped clean except for him. chris. chris. chris.

his mouth finds your neck, lips dragging down to the spot that makes your breath catch. you grind harder, chasing that edge, wanting to lose yourself in him completely. “say it again,” you gasp. he pulls back just enough to stare at you…wild, breathless, his. “you’re the only one i want. the only one i’ll ever want.” and then he kisses you like a promise, like forever. his lips are everywhere now, your mouth, your throat, your collarbone. and your legs tighten around his waist, body clinging to him like you’re afraid he’ll disappear.

“bed,” you whisper, breath shaky. he doesn’t answer with words. he just stands up, keeping you wrapped around him, hands under your thighs as he carries you across the room. your heart races with every step. the tension between your bodies, the heat of his skin under your fingertips, it’s all-consuming. he kicks the bedroom door open, barely bothering to shut it behind him before laying you down on the mattress. he follows immediately, covering your body with his, never breaking contact. “you still jealous?” he murmurs against your lips, voice dark, teasing.

you shake your head, eyes half-lidded. “i just want you to prove it.” he smirks, brushing your hair back from your face. “then don’t look away.” his fingers trail under your shirt again, and this time he takes his time pulling it off you, slow and smooth. your chest rises, anticipation crawling up your spine as he tosses it aside and just looks at you, like he’s never seen anything more perfect. he slowly grabs one of your boobs, squeezing and playing with it. “mine,” he says softly, but with so much weight it makes your stomach twist.

then his mouth is on your skin, kissing, biting, licking. he makes his way down your body, leaving heat in his wake, lips dragging over the soft curve of your chest, your ribs, your stomach. his hands roam with just as much intention, gripping and guiding, like he wants to memorize every inch of you with his palms. you’re breathless already. and he hasn’t even taken off your shorts yet. you arch into him, desperate for more friction, more proof, more him. and when your hands slide back into his hair, tugging the way you know he loves, he groans into your skin like he’s unraveling for you.

“i need to hear you,” he says, voice muffled as he trails kisses along your hip. “i need to know you feel this too.” you nod, biting your lip, letting your moans come out instead of stifling them. he pulls your shorts down slowly, kissing the inside of your thighs, eyes locked on yours the whole time. and when you whimper under his touch, when your hips shift with need, his smirk returns.

“no one else gets to see you like this,” he murmurs. “spread out. dripping. aching for me.”you can’t even form a response. you just reach for him, pulling him back up, crashing your mouth to his, needing to taste him again. he grinds against you, skin to skin now, and the heat between you is blinding. your hands roam wildly, his shoulders, his chest, his back, wanting to feel all of him, to take him in. and when he finally, finally slides inside you, it’s everything. full. deep. perfect. you gasp his name, head falling back, nails digging into his arms as he moves inside you with slow, deliberate rolls of his hips. like he’s savoring it. like he wants you to feel every second.

“you hear that?” he pants, lips brushing your ear. “the way your body sounds when i’m buried inside you? that’s mine. all of it.” you moan, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, meeting his thrusts with your own. it’s messy now, needy and hot and soaked with the kind of passion that makes the rest of the world vanish. his lips find yours again, messy and desperate. “no one else could ever make me feel this way,” he growls. “you ruined me for anyone else.” you gasp, trembling beneath him. “say it,” he begs, voice breaking. “tell me i’m yours.”

“you are…you’re all mine..” you moan out. he kisses you hard, and when he finally falls apart inside you, moaning your name like a prayer, you go with him. bodies tangled, breaths ragged, hearts pounding. chris’s orgasm comes crashing down right after yours. you lay there after, bare skin against bare skin, tangled in sheets and each other, and breathless. his fingers brush through your hair. soft. slow. like he’s trying to calm the storm he just created. “no more getting jealous,” he says quietly. you smile, barely able to keep your eyes open. “no more other girls?” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. “i don’t want anyone else. just the girl who makes me lose my mind every time she moans my name.” and tonight… he made damn sure you knew it.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: i’m so so sorry this is so incredibly bad i was rushing

[delilaheilish]

— ୨୧ money talks . . . m.s

in which . . . you and matt share a hotel room in italy.

warnings . . . smut, sub!matt, riding, praise, pet names.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

matt was sprawled out on the bed, sitting against the headboard as you were on top of him, straddling him. your hips moved at a constant, and teasing speed. matt was practically falling apart, his hands dug into your hips as he tried to guide you. you smirked as you watched his desperation, you could feel the wet patch on his jeans. the friction of your bare pussy rubbing up on his clothed erection felt amazing. you had accompanied the triplets on their trip to milan for a prada fashion show. you and matt had just left nick and chris’s shared room since they were vlogging. and now, you and matt finally had some long awaited alone time…

“f—fuck baby, y’feel so good…you look so pretty on top of me..” matt murmured, his words barely even audible as he groaned, soft whimpers falling from his mouth as you continued to ride him. “feel good, yeah?” you whispered softly, grinding against matt as you leaned into his neck, slowly beginning to suck and kiss the skin of it, leaving noticeable marks that trailed down the side of his neck.

“mmmmm..” matt hummed, a small moan leaving his lips as you straightened up, your pace slowing slightly. “gettin’ tired already?” matt chuckled his hands tightening on your hips, helping you ride him. “cmon, you got it baby.” matt praised, looking up at you with lust in his eyes.

your hand cupped matt’s cheek, slowly leaning into to kiss him. matt groaned as the both of your lips touched, fitting together perfectly, like the final piece to a puzzle. you moaned into the kiss, matt felt the vibrations against his lips as the kiss grew passionate and more sensual by each passing second.

“such a good boy..” you grinned into the kiss, your stomach filling with butterflies as you could hear matt’s desperate whines and grunts in your ear. “i need to cum, baby..please—oh my god.” matt threw his head back, you picked up your speed, sending matt over the edge.

matt’s hands traveled down to your bare ass, squeezing it as he tried holding himself together. the way he begged so desperately, the way he whined and moaned your name, it was all music to your ears. “not yet, baby. not until i tell you.” you replied to matt, who was currently a shaking and moaning mess beneath you. you drove him crazy, you drove him insane.

“cum, sweetheart.” you whispered into matt’s ear, and matt instantly obeyed, releasing as his head went back from the amount of relief he felt. you smiled, watching as he completely fell apart beneath you. matt slowly looked up at you, grabbing you by your hips. you gasped as he pushed you down on the mattress, laying you on your back. matt grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as he hovered on top of you.“we’re not done yet, it’s my turn now.” matt spoke with desire and dominance, a smirk plastered over his face slowly as he looked down at you, beginning to undo the belt that rested on his jeans, slipping them off effortlessly.

thank goodness you both had your own room.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

[anantaru]

cw. dragoncock, size kink, fem! reader

dragon zhongli who has to fuck you with his fat tip before he can even do anything more than that, your jaw hanging open as he shifts your lower half towards him— his trembling breath on your skin weeping, his nocturnal and safe cradle rounding up this dance of tension as your eyes turn into heart.

it's everywhere, zhongli was everywhere, invading your senses and penetrating your nostrils with his gracious, galvanizing scent— not to mention how sweat and all kinds of fluids were now pooling stickily onto your belly, thighs and cunt. you moan salaciously at the further stretch, sensing a heart beat on your warm sex as zhongli gives you another inch, not failing to see you absolutely loving it with that clouded grin on your lips.

his tip slides deeper and the copious amount of cum surely aided him in that, fueling an additional stretch on you while zhongli stays like that for a while, in you, forcing you to feel his large length push into your walls— the man knows he cannot let you indulge too much though, you'll either get a little greedy or it'll end up being a bit too much for your sweet, little cunt to bear, especially with the way he'd pinch and nudge against the swollen regions inside you with thrilling pressure.

zhongli was massive and a part of him feared that he'd be too much.

your hips roll up to meet his small thrusts, which were pitiful grinds if anything as zhongli looks at how your pussy was swallowing him suggestively, feeling entirely wanton as the sensations cascaded through him with a heady lust that transcended every expectation inside of his heart.

you know that if his fat cock hurts you, he will stop immediately and resort back in fucking you with his thick tip, because of course, zhongli wants you go enjoy it, there was nothing else he wanted more.

he always tells you to take your time until you're used to his shape, his size and his pace— used to his sensual movements which served as an invitation to your body spasming beneath his dominating one.

someone with such experience which zhongli harbored, wasn’t necessarily shy in his doings, not at all, in fact— he's blunt, experienced when he grabs your hips to him and pull his steadily hardening cock against the tight opening of your hole a bit more.

now, halfway through, you show him how obediently your walls throb around him when he fucks you, when he feeds your cunt with his aching erection until it's settled in a position you're pleased in and your legs get all sore, pushing you to a place of pleasure and harmony like anything you had known before.

it felt like it belonged here, just as it felt like you couldn't possibly move your hips anymore by how full you were of him— and his draconic instincts emerge as his eyes glow of divinity and lust, his shaft pushing into every bit of space your hole could offer.

dropping your head back into the pillows, you feel a knot forming in your stomach until it started to scratch and throb in you, yet the sensation of being overcrowded by his cock made it difficult to decide if it was your orgasm building up or if zhongli had already invaded the literal guts of you.

his thick, oozy cum was making the friction nearly unbearable to ignore as it turns you more sensitive— aside from the fact that his seed was impossibly hot, almost as if it was trying to burn through your walls when all it did was turn you needier. it has your body covered in his filth, and your voice was too broken with moans and gasps to form words as you mewl into his mouth with every touch and thrust.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[ghostlycamil4]

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝐷𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝐻𝑖𝑚

Warning: Content explicit sexual content, suggestive language, 18+. A simple hike turns feral when Bakugo pins her to a tree, taking her with rough, relentless hunger until her moans are swallowed by the forest.

You were breathing like there wasn’t enough air in the forest to fill your lungs. The sound of his hips slamming against you echoed—wet, filthy—through the trees. His hands, large and rough, gripped your waist like he was afraid you’d vanish, branding you with every squeeze, keeping you locked against him with a pace that offered no mercy.

Your moans, broken and rising, floated through the leaves like an obscene confession. But he didn’t want anyone to hear.

"Shut that mouth, fuck…" he whispered, voice wrecked, slapping his palm over your lips, hot and damp.

His breath grazed your neck, heated, desperate. You felt his teeth barely scraping your skin—soft at first, then harder—leaving marks.

And right in the middle of all of it—the relentless friction between your thighs, the pleasure burning hotter and hotter in your belly—a thought struck you. So absurd, yet so clear:

How the hell did we end up here?

Because this was supposed to be a hike. A walk in nature. Fresh air. Peace. Disconnection.

Not this.

Not you, legs spread, body pinned to a tree, and Bakugo buried so deep inside you it felt like he needed it to survive.

You remembered the start of the day. You packed water, protein bars, and the comfiest leggings you had. You thought it might be hard to keep up with him, but not that you’d end up begging between gasps for him not to stop.

He warned you.

"This ain’t a damn stroll," he said before leaving. "If you’re gonna tap out, don’t even bother."

But you went. Pride, stubbornness, or maybe just that reckless urge to get a rise out of him.

And you fucking nailed it.

You knew it when, after several kilometers, your sweaty, tired body leaned back against a tree—and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. When his gaze dropped down your waist, watched the sweat sliding between your breasts. When he walked up without a word, breathing hard, jaw clenched.

You didn’t reply. Because when his hands slipped under your waistband, fingers meeting slick heat, there were no words left. Just gasps. Just his rough voice at your ear:

"Fuckin’ soaked… you’re slippin’..."

And then, his fingers were in you first—slow, exploring, reacquainting himself—until it was his cock filling you completely, growling as your walls clamped around him like they’d been waiting.

"But you wanted a break, right?" he said low, voice rough and taunting, digging his fingers harder into your hips.

"Katsu…" you whispered, trembling, breathless.

"Then fuckin’ rest like this, with my cock inside," he growled into your ear, giving you no mercy. "Show me my girl ain’t weak."

And he started moving faster, rougher—like he wanted to break you down, like he needed you to hold on—slamming into you with a pace so savage it knocked the air from your lungs.

Your body reacted on its own, chasing more, needing more, trembling under him but refusing to give out.

And it drove him crazy.

"That’s what I fuckin’ like…"

And when you came—wrecked by a wave of raw, blinding pleasure that dragged tears from your eyes—he just growled louder, pounding into you once, twice more, before spilling deep inside with a guttural breath that sounded more like desperation than relief.

But he didn’t stop.

He pulled his hand from your mouth and turned you just enough so you could see him over your shoulder, still buried inside. His eyes burned. Sweat dripped down his face, jaw clenched tight—Bakugo didn’t look satisfied.

He looked fucking starving.

Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How lock-in hurts design

Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28) for my book-talk after the first one sold out - book now!

If you've ever read about design, you've probably encountered the idea of "paving the desire path." A "desire path" is an erosion path created by people departing from the official walkway and taking their own route. The story goes that smart campus planners don't fight the desire paths laid down by students; they pave them, formalizing the route that their constituents have voted for with their feet.

Desire paths aren't always great (Wikipedia notes that "desire paths sometimes cut through sensitive habitats and exclusion zones, threatening wildlife and park security"), but in the context of design, a desire path is a way that users communicate with designers, creating a feedback loop between those two groups. The designers make a product, the users use it in ways that surprise the designer, and the designer integrates all that into a new revision of the product.

This method is widely heralded as a means of "co-innovating" between users and companies. Designers who practice the method are lauded for their humility, their willingness to learn from their users. Tech history is strewn with examples of successful paved desire-paths.

Take John Deere. While today the company is notorious for its war on its customers (via its opposition to right to repair), Deere was once a leader in co-innovation, dispatching roving field engineers to visit farms and learn how farmers had modified their tractors. The best of these modifications would then be worked into the next round of tractor designs, in a virtuous cycle:

https://securityledger.com/2019/03/opinion-my-grandfathers-john-deere-would-support-our-right-to-repair/

But this pattern is even more pronounced in the digital world, because it's much easier to update a digital service than it is to update all the tractors in the field, especially if that service is cloud-based, meaning you can modify the back-end everyone is instantly updated. The most celebrated example of this co-creation is Twitter, whose users created a host of its core features.

Retweets, for example, were a user creation. Users who saw something they liked on the service would type "RT" and paste the text and the link into a new tweet composition window. Same for quote-tweets: users copied the URL for a tweet and pasted it in below their own commentary. Twitter designers observed this user innovation and formalized it, turning it into part of Twitter's core feature-set.

Companies are obsessed with discovering digital desire paths. They pay fortunes for analytics software to produce maps of how their users interact with their services, run focus groups, even embed sneaky screen-recording software into their web-pages:

https://www.wired.com/story/the-dark-side-of-replay-sessions-that-record-your-every-move-online/

This relentless surveillance of users is pursued in the name of making things better for them: let us spy on you and we'll figure out where your pain-points and friction are coming from, and remove those. We all win!

But this impulse is a world apart from the humility and respect implied by co-innovation. The constant, nonconsensual observation of users has more to do with controlling users than learning from them.

That is, after all, the ethos of modern technology: the more control a company can exert over its users ,the more value it can transfer from those users to its shareholders. That's the key to enshittification, the ubiquitous platform decay that has degraded virtually all the technology we use, making it worse every day:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

When you are seeking to control users, the desire paths they create are all too frequently a means to wrestling control back from you. Take advertising: every time a service makes its ads more obnoxious and invasive, it creates an incentive for its users to search for "how do I install an ad-blocker":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

More than half of all web-users have installed ad-blockers. It's the largest consumer boycott in human history:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

But zero app users have installed ad-blockers, because reverse-engineering an app requires that you bypass its encryption, triggering liability under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. This law provides for a $500,000 fine and a 5-year prison sentence for "circumvention" of access controls:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/12/youre-holding-it-wrong/#if-dishwashers-were-iphones

Beyond that, modifying an app creates liability under copyright, trademark, patent, trade secrets, noncompete, nondisclosure and so on. It's what Jay Freeman calls "felony contempt of business model":

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

This is why services are so horny to drive you to install their app rather using their websites: they are trying to get you to do something that, given your druthers, you would prefer not to do. They want to force you to exit through the gift shop, you want to carve a desire path straight to the parking lot. Apps let them mobilize the law to literally criminalize those desire paths.

An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a felony to block ads in it (or do anything else that wrestles value back from a company). Apps are web-pages where everything not forbidden is mandatory.

Seen in this light, an app is a way to wage war on desire paths, to abandon the cooperative model for co-innovation in favor of the adversarial model of user control and extraction.

Corporate apologists like to claim that the proliferation of apps proves that users like them. Neoliberal economists love the idea that business as usual represents a "revealed preference." This is an intellectually unserious tautology: "you do this, so you must like it":

https://boingboing.net/2024/01/22/hp-ceo-says-customers-are-a-bad-investment-unless-they-can-be-made-to-buy-companys-drm-ink-cartridges.html

Calling an action where no alternatives are permissible a "preference" or a "choice" is a cheap trick – especially when considered against the "preferences" that reveal themselves when a real choice is possible. Take commercial surveillance: when Apple gave Ios users a choice about being spied on – a one-click opt of of app-based surveillance – 96% of users choice no spying:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2021/05/96-of-us-users-opt-out-of-app-tracking-in-ios-14-5-analytics-find/

But then Apple started spying on those very same users that had opted out of spying by Facebook and other Apple competitors:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Neoclassical economists aren't just obsessed with revealed preferences – they also love to bandy about the idea of "moral hazard": economic arrangements that tempt people to be dishonest. This is typically applied to the public ("consumers" in the contemptuous parlance of econospeak). But apps are pure moral hazard – for corporations. The ability to prohibit desire paths – and literally imprison rivals who help your users thwart those prohibitions – is too tempting for companies to resist.

The fact that the majority of web users block ads reveals a strong preference for not being spied on ("users just want relevant ads" is such an obvious lie that doesn't merit any serious discussion):

https://www.iccl.ie/news/82-of-the-irish-public-wants-big-techs-toxic-algorithms-switched-off/

Giant companies attained their scale by learning from their users, not by thwarting them. The person using technology always knows something about what they need to do and how they want to do it that the designers can never anticipate. This is especially true of people who are unlike those designers – people who live on the other side of the world, or the other side of the economic divide, or whose bodies don't work the way that the designers' bodies do:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

Apps – and other technologies that are locked down so their users can be locked in – are the height of technological arrogance. They embody a belief that users are to be told, not heard. If a user wants to do something that the designer didn't anticipate, that's the user's fault:

https://www.wired.com/2010/06/iphone-4-holding-it-wrong/

Corporate enthusiasm for prohibiting you from reconfiguring the tools you use to suit your needs is a declaration of the end of history. "Sure," John Deere execs say, "we once learned from farmers by observing how they modified their tractors. But today's farmers are so much stupider and we are so much smarter that we have nothing to learn from them anymore."

Spying on your users to control them is a poor substitute asking your users their permission to learn from them. Without technological self-determination, preferences can't be revealed. Without the right to seize the means of computation, the desire paths never emerge, leaving designers in the dark about what users really want.

Our policymakers swear loyalty to "innovation" but when corporations ask for the right to decide who can innovate and how, they fall all over themselves to create laws that let companies punish users for the crime of contempt of business-model.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/24/everything-not-mandatory/#is-prohibited

Image: Belem (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Desire_path_%2819811581366%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[fear-is-truth]

❝ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏, 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏. ❞ ・─ HWANG IN-HO

◟warnings — thigh riding ⋆ suit k!nk ⋆ edging ⋆ power imbalance ⋆ death mention ⋆ MDNI 18+

a/n : english is not my first language

tiny figures in green tracksuits scatter across the playground, dropping like marionettes with their strings cut, bodies collapsing into the dirt, limbs sprawled at unnatural angles. the screen is crisp, high-definition carnage. blood pools black against sand.

but the front man doesn’t focus on the dying.

not really.

his attention drifts, half-lidded, disinterest settling in. the screaming gets old real quick.

instead, he listens.

fly me to the moon, a slow, smoky lilt, drifts from the tiny music box on the side table.

a woman’s voice. saccharine, timeless. the miniature jazz band inside twirls, their miniature instruments catching the yellow light. a saxophonist leans into his solo, frozen in brass. the singer clutches her mic stand, red lips parting in sync with the song.

the figurines spin.

the game plays on.

and you—

you’re in his lap, straddling him, grinding yourself down on the hard muscle of his thigh in slow, languid rolls. the friction is not nearly enough to satiate the ache between your thighs. you need more. need him to touch you, react to you, acknowledge how ruined you already are.

his gloved hands remain still on the arms of his chair.

you whimper, dragging your core against the fabric of his slacks again, harder, trying to pull something—anything—from him.

a quiet inhale behind the mask.

“needy,” he remarks, voice distorted by the modulator, made deeper, mechanical like darth vader.

“you could’ve just asked.”

you bite your bottom lip in a petulant pout, palms braced against his chest. and then, impulsively, you lean in, pressing your lips against the cold geometric surface.

“would you have said yes?” you ask.

his silence is answer enough.

there’s a pause—long enough to make you wonder if you’ve overstepped—then a quiet chuckle crackles through the mask, distorted into something inhuman.

“hmm.”

a pause.

and then—he grips your hips, forcing you down against him in one smooth, unyielding motion.

then, his fingers twitch. just slightly.

you gasp, eyes going wide.

“our VIPs will be arriving shortly, how should i explain the wet spot you’ve made on my slacks?” you can’t even find the words to respond, too consumed by the burn of embarrassment tightening in your chest. your legs tremble from how badly you need him, from the wetness seeping into his slacks—evidence of just how desperate you’ve become.

you’ve made a mess.

in-ho tilts his head, studying you in silence. then, his fingers flex, digging in, pulling you down just enough for you to feel it—the damp spot against his thigh, the way your slick clings to the expensive fabric.

“i—”

you try to lift yourself, to regain even the smallest scrap of dignity, but his grip tightens, keeping you exactly where you are. your heart pounds against your ribs. another rich chuckle, nearly drowned out by the warm, lazy melody playing through the speakers.

“an unfortunate spill, perhaps?” one gloved hand sliding up your spine, pressing between your shoulder blades as he jerks his head toward the glass of untouched whiskey on the side table. “or would you prefer i be honest?”

his words curl around you like a fist wrapped in silk, and you can hear the amusement in them. your cheeks burn, mortification seeping into your bone marrow.

and then—slowly, methodically—he pulls you forward again, pressing you down against the evidence of your shame, forcing you to feel it. your body locks up in his hands, a helpless whimper slipping past your lips.

the front man hums, satisfied.

on the screen, another body drops.

the song continues.

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[moonchild9350]

Your Canvas

summary: Hyunjin entrusts you with his look for the show and what is in store afterwards.

pairing: idol!Hyunjin x fab!reader

genre: fluff, smut-18+MDNI

word count: 1.9k

warnings: teasing, fingering, nipple play, dirty talk, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, squirting, use of term princess, hyunjin is kinda a soft dom

notes: a short fic to help me get out of my slump and also versace buzzcut hyunjin lol

If you enjoyed please like, reblog, comment ♡

please do not copy, translate, modify, or use elsewhere without my permission. ©️moonchild9350 (2025)

General Masterlist

Your paintbrush traveled over the fuzzy blond strands, the black paint forming the letters to spell Versace. You were helping Hyunjin get ready for the show, offering to help him paint the phrase and its design on the sides of his head.

However, the man was out to make the task difficult as his arm was wrapped around your waist, his large palm flat on your ass as he squeezed the flesh every now and then. Each time it occurred, you felt your pussy clench, your arousal soaking your panties as you took in his little smirk.

“Are you okay love?” Hyunjin teased as he looked straight ahead not daring to turn around and mess up your work.

“Mmhmm. But if you want your designs to be perfect, I need to focus.”

“Well focus love, what’s stopping you?”

At that moment he squeezed your ass again and this time his hand sneaked its way under your dress, his fingers teasing your folds briefly before withdrawing them.

You breathed in and out, trying to ignore his teasing and focus on what you were doing and somehow you were able to finish. You stood back to admire your work, the large, black words sticking out on his blonde almost white hair.

“Done,” you said in triumph as you set your paint brushes down on the counter.

You gasped as you suddenly felt Hyunjin wrap his arms around you, pressing your body against his front.

“Thank you love,” he murmured as he pressed wet kisses down your neck and ran his nose up just to nip at your ear.

You could feel his semi-hardened cock pressed against you, the need to have him take you then and there getting stronger with each second. However, he had places to be and with every last bit of resolve you pulled away and began fixing your dress.

“We have to go. Everyone is waiting on the prince.”

Hyunjin eyed you, his brown eyes taking in your body, how your dress hugged your curves, leaving nothing to the imagination. Normally he’d let his possessive side show and have you change, not wanting anyone to see what’s his. But tonight, he’ll let it slide as he wants everyone to see who he’s going home with later on.

He runs his fingers through the short strands and smiles before grabbing your hand to lead you out of the room and to the show he looks forward to all year. — — The night went well. Many fans attended to see the prince himself while anybody who is somebody made their way to the venue. Hyunjin mingled with the others, always having you in tow, a hand placed gently on your lower back.

You were a little tipsy from the flutes of champagne you knocked back throughout the night leaving you feeling horny and needy for Hyunjin. Every time you eyed his hair, seeing your handiwork on his buzzed head, you silently moaned or when he eyed you with a knowing look, his tongue darting out to lick his plush lips, your walls clamped down around nothing, more arousal seeping out of your pussy and onto your thighs as the fabric of your panties was ruined.

Time passed however, more drinks were passed around, and before you knew it, Hyunjin was bidding everyone goodbye and leading you out of the venue. He was silent the whole way to the car, a soft smile on his face as the few stragglers who were outside yelled his name and snapped his picture, the camera flashes lighting up the night.

You were like a dog in heat, needing to be touched by your lover in however way he saw fit. You squeezed your thighs together over and over, seeking friction and therefore giving you some relief, but Hyunjin just lightly slapped your knee, signaling for you to stop.

Hyunjin was hard, incredibly so, his cock straining against his pants painfully. He never was not hard, not tonight as he kept thinking of you in that dress, your eyes on him, eye fucking him every chance you could get. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, ravage you, and worship you.

Once at the hotel, he whisked you away, both of you in a hurry to be within the confines of the four walls of your room. The door slammed, causing the items on the dresser to vibrate.

Before you knew it, Hyunjin had you on your back as he hovered over you, his eyes gazing at you with a sultry gaze.

“Fuck my princess, you need me don’t you?” He smirked as he slowly leaned down to press his lips to your collarbone.

You moaned and ran your fingers through his hair, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feel of the fuzz against your fingertips and his lips on your skin, slowly licking and sucking the flesh until you were squirming beneath him.

“I need you,” you whimpered, bucking your hips into his, groaning when you felt his cock against your thigh.

Hyunjin chuckled and stood up, leaving you shocked and gazing at him. He stripped himself of his jacket, the purple leather sliding to the floor and began to slowly rid himself of his shirt and pants as you watched silently.

Before ridding himself of his boxers, he cocked his head and asked, “Why are you still lying there? Don’t you want me to bend you over and have my way with you? Fuck you just the way you like until your begging me to let you come?”

You felt a flutter run through your body, the heat settling in your core. You scrambled off of the bed and slipped your dress off, baring yourself to Hyunjin. Your chest was heaving as you breathed, your nipples hardened as you stood there in just your panties. Hyunjin’s eyes roamed down your body as he smiled in approval at your obedience.

You gasped as he brushed his fingers over your nipples, barely touching them to tease you. You bit your lip as pleasure cascaded down your body, as he toyed with your breasts in a way only he knew how to do. His eyes met yours, his pupils dilated and filled with lust.

His hands dropped and you gasped at the lack of sensation, wishing he would touch you again. You didn’t have to wait long as he grabbed your arm and pulled you toward the dresser and bent you over. You heard him discard his boxers and slide your panties down your legs, leaving them to pool at your feet.

You let out a moan as his fingers ran through your folds, over and over, the pad of the digit rubbing your clit every now and then. The sound of your arousal filled the air, causing Hyunjin’s cock to twitch as more pre-cum leaked from his reddened tip.

“Look at me love. Look in the mirror right at me.”

You lifted your head ever so slightly to meet his gaze in the large mirror hanging above you. He smiled as he massaged your ass, his other hand stroking his cock slowly.

“I want you to look at me when I fuck you,” Hyunjin purred.

You shook your head okay and pushed your hips back, moaning when you felt the tip of his cock on your flesh.

“Ready love? Remember eyes on me…”

You let out a moan as he pushed inside, his cock spreading you open with each inch. Hyunjin was a site to see as he threw his head back briefly and then caught your gaze again as he began to thrust into you, hard and fast. You felt full, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over, pushing you toward that feeling of sweet ecstasy that you’ve been craving all night.

Hyunjin panted as he gripped your hips tighter, his eyes glued to your ass as he watched your pussy take his cock perfectly and the flesh jiggle against him with each thrust. He loved your pussy, how tight and warm it was around him, how it made him feel as if he was losing his mind. He reveled in the thought that it was his, all his.

You felt that familiar sensation start to bubble causing you to clench around his cock. Hyunjin noticed the change, how you clenched around him, how your moans turned to shaky breaths and how you met his thrusts by shoving your hips back onto him, trying to reach your peak.

Hyunjin suddenly withdrew his cock, your cries of dismay reaching his ears. He pulled you up and then maneuvered you to the bed, laying you on your back before spreading your legs wide open.

His eyes feasted on your pussy, taking in your swollen folds, slick with your arousal. He licked his lips when he saw your clit, so engorged it was peaking out between your lips. Hyunjin lifted your chin so your eyes were on him as he spit on your pussy, the saliva hitting perfectly on your clit causing you to gasp before the liquid traveled down your folds and to your entrance.

You watched as he gripped his cock once more and sheathed himself inside you, leaning down against you to get as close as possible. He snapped his hips once, twice, nice and hard to the point where your body jolted upwards against the sheets as you let out a huff.

He kept that pace, deep and hard before speeding up, that pleasurable feeling quickly building up within you once more. You traced your fingers against the word Versace you painted earlier in the day, listening to the soft grunts your lover let out at your touch.

“Mmm such good pussy. Been wanting to fuck you all night love. M’wanted to fuck my princess.”

“Ah Hyunjin!” You whimpered as you continued to run your fingers through the tendrils of hair, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull you closer.

You were close to your high, the feeling intensifying with each thrust. You slowly breathed, letting yourself succumb to the pleasure, to the warm feeling that began in your belly before traveling all the way down to your core, to your legs, even to your toes. The bubble grew slowly and intensely to the point that you felt overwhelmed.

“Are you going to come on my cock love? Well you be a good little princess for me?” Hyunjin cooed as he eyed you, recognizing the look you make when you’re close to orgasm.

“Yes, gonna come on your cock…gonna..” But your words were caught off as you came hard, your release dripping out of your pussy and onto Hyunjin’s cock and the sheets below. Your vision blurred and your hearing diminished as he continued to fuck you, dragging his cock in and out in and out until he gave a strangled cry and stilled his hips, his seed painting your walls.

Hyunjin let out a shaky breath and collapsed next to you, pulling you to his body. His eyes roamed your face, taking in your spent face that was filled with love. His eyes fluttered as you reached out to trace the design on his head, a soft grunt coming from deep within his chest, almost like a purr.

“I did good,” you said as he returned his gaze to yours.

“You did, it’s definitely a painting fitting for a prince.” Hyunjin murmured as he drew small circles on your hips.

You couldn’t agree more.

divider by @strangergraphics

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek @skzdreamer13 @lezleeferguson-120

[valicalliali]

Sucking off TrueForm!Sukuna.

His two cocks rub against each other as your warm mouth bulges around the struggle to take just one of him in your mouth. He’s big; the size difference between you two could not be any more visible right now. Suprisingly, he’s being patient, hands tapping at his thigh as he waited for you to figure it out on your own. You take him in your mouth again, going down as far as you can before stroking the rest with your hands. He growls softly as he gets the friction he so desperately needed, even if he didn’t show it. One of his hands buries itself in your hair, slightly fucking himself into your mouth and hands. You’re choking on him, the squeeze of your throat around him making him groan, picking up the face slightly. “Fuckkkk, hah, if you weren’t so scared, I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He chokes out, guiding your hands to stroke him faster. Without warning, he comes down your throat, the thick, sticky substance making your eyes water as you struggle to swallow it all down. There really was a lot. Pulling off him with a splutter, small beads of white dripping onto the floor. His face is slightly flushed, a lazy smile on his face. “Hah, now that you’ve done one, you’ve got to do the other, dont ‘cha?”

all works written by ©valicalliali + please do not steal, modify or translate any of my works unless permitted.

[vultursvolans]

— ★ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: alhaitham x afab!reader, shameless smut, pussyjob, panties, dry humping(?), no penetration, teasing, edging(?), established relationship. 0.4k wc. MDNI. 18+ only. | masterlist

Alhaitham doesn’t want to have sex with you just yet.

He wants to take it slow, to pry your legs open and watch how the little cotton undies you’re wearing do nothing to hide how wet you are when he perfectly nestles his bare cock between your thighs.

Alhaitham doesn’t want to have sex with you just yet because he enjoys how you writhe and squirm every time he pokes the tip at the entrance of your pussy—so close to pushing it inside but just when you think he will, the flimsy barrier of your panties stops him, leaving you clenching around nothing after he pulls away.

Alhaitham doesn’t want to have sex with you just yet because he likes how you swivel your hips in tiny circles in an attempt to catch some friction on your clit when he thrusts his cock in and out of his fist.

As the sheer weight of it glides across your clothed cunt, you can’t help but gasp and toss your head back, nearly begging him to end this and fuck you already.

Alhaitham doesn’t want to have sex with you just yet, not when his crystal eyes are fixed on the wetness pooling between your legs and the way it spills onto your thighs.

His breath hitches as slips his tip under the edge of your panties, dragging it between your folds—slowly at first and then faster when he feels how softly they hug him.

Each time he moves through your sticky mess, he watches the imprint of his fat, swollen head prodding through the fabric and a thread of precum spurts onto your cunt just from the sight alone.

Alhaitham doesn’t want to have sex with you just yet because his mind is already numb from how your pussy is squeezing and sucking the sides of his cock—too lost in groaning your name under his breath while he feverishly humps your heat.

He draws moan after moan out of you as his girth rubs your puffy clit, spreading you apart while you ball your bedsheet in your fists.

“Fuck—” every muscle in your body tenses as you whisper your first curse for the evening. And when his hand finds your waist, Alhaitham makes sure it’s far from the last as his hips continues to push you into the mattress.

How could Alhaitham have sex with you just yet?

Not when each whimper leaves your lips so sweetly, or when that frustrated, pleading look in your candied eyes makes you so pretty?

When you arch into him, Alhaitham leans close and finally asks, “Do you want me to take these off?”

But how could Alhaitham possibly have sex with you just yet—especially when you’re trembling just as his fingers begins hook around the hem of your panties?

a/n: ngl i was in the middle of working on my soft and sweet wip when i got this idea. unfortunately the horny thoughts won and i wrote this with my clit

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

dividers: @/adornedwithlight

[carmenlikeme]

[jack abbot, michael 'robby' robinavitch] afab!reader, pet names, somno ( if you squint), praise and degradation kink, threesome, p in v, unprotected sex, some manhandling, choking(?), 600 words, I gave up midway, not proofread. divider by @/strangergraphics

Jack Abbot and his beautiful wife who gets the sexiest pajamas and sleeping clothes just for him.

You have a little bit of everything, from silky nightgowns that rise up your skin to those cute little sets that fit your skin so perfectly it makes his head dizzy.

It's always a nice treat coming home and finding out what you're wearing for him that night.

But this time, he isn't alone.

You wake up to the feeling of his hands under your clothes. He's admiring you right now. His hands are cold and feel slightly damp to the touch. He just showered. Was it that late already?

You shiver as his hand immediately finds your breasts, the other comes to find the ribbon in the front and pulls. Of course, you're not wearing anything underneath.

Melting under his touch, you seek for his mouth. It's messy, you're barely awake enough to even move. Then, something pokes at your shoulder.

Actually, someone.

Robby's beard scratches your shoulder in a way so delicious you don't know where to turn. There's a trace of water in it, which immediately makes you whine. So noisy, he whispers as his digits press on your hips.

"You had fun without me," you babble. "'s not fair."

"Oww, baby feels left out?" There's some sourness to the question, but the way both men are treating your body at the moment makes you ignore it. "So greedy."

Jack's voice isn't the only one with an edge; his fingers pinch at your nipples, cold hands making it even more arousing.

"I bet you missed him, don't you?" he pinches harder. "Tell him."

You want to pull away from him, the sensation is so painfully intoxicating, but when you try, you crash into Robby's chest. He takes advantage of it, pressing you harder against him as his hands come to plush at your thighs.

"Did you?" his hot breath is on your neck, and now, you don't have anywhere else to run. "Miss me?"

Jack pulls down your shorts effortlessly and doesn't waste time. He lifts one of your legs, and Robby holds it in place. Finally, you start to open your eyes when your husband's hand finds your clit.

"Don't be rude, that's not kind," your husband says, moving faster. "Tell him how you begged for him last night while I fucked you."

"You're being mean," you say. Still, you nod. "I missed you, Michael."

"Now it's Michael?" he asks dryly. "Must've really missed me, sweetie."

You nod eagerly, so lost in pleasure. You don't realize how long you've been like this, but the next thing you hear is a loud pop. Robby grunts behind you, the hand pleasuring you is now busy with him. You try to look down, but Jack holds you in your place with a firm hand on your throat.

"Wanna be good for Michael?" There it is again, that faux kindness in Jack's voice as his hand squeezes your throat. "Show him how much of a slut you are for him?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you beg, seeking any type of friction. "Please, please, Mikey, fuck me."

"Well, shit, if you ask so nicely."

You feel Robby's hand lifting your leg higher, adding more pressure to his grip. You're sure you won't be able to wear short skirts for a while at that rate. When you open your eyes, you see the back of Jack's head. He turns around to look at you, his intense gaze not leaving yours as he shoves his fingers in your throat.

He tastes like precum and that chocolate chip cookie you bought as a joke a while ago. He can't stop looking at you as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. Jack smiles as Robby slides into you, slowly, wanting to feel everything.

You don't remember when this little arrangement of yours started, or how, but in that moment, as your hands find Jack's length, you don't think it matters.

© CARMENLIKEME 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, modify or claim as yours.

[delilahsturniolo]

— ୨୧ so fucking needy . . . c.s

in which . . . you become extremely impatient during a twitch stream, chris just can’t seem to ignore you.

warnings . . . smut, unprotected sex, (be responsible) fingering, teasing, dom!chris, oral, (fem!recieving) use of pet names, kinda sorta getting caught ?

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

★ “fuck, matt. you’re selling the game!” chris yelled at matt through his microphone. the boys were currently on stream, playing a chaotic game of fortnite. you were laying on chris’s bed, out of the camera view. you sighed as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone, occasionally hearing chris’s yells and curses under his breath.

you sat up on the bed, sitting against the headboard now. you looked over at chris, who was so invested in the game. your eyes immediately locked on his hands that gripped the controller as securely as ever. fuck, the way he moved his fingers so quickly…the way he muttered and cursed under his breath, the way he breathed so heavily.

you felt a familiar heat between your legs all of a sudden, you felt a euphoric and aroused feeling inside of you, something you couldn’t control, a feeling that got more intense and unbearable as time went on. you just couldn’t help it, you were extremely horny in this moment, and you couldn’t seem to wait.

you knew chris would be mad at you if you became impatient, you knew he’d just tell you to wait until the stream was over…but that would be too long. you ultimately decided to just take the risk, you needed chris now, and you weren’t able to wait. you untied the strings of your pajama shorts so they were looser, you made sure your laced panties were visible. you adjusted your posture, crossing your legs for friction on your clothed pussy.

you let out a soft whine to get chris’s attention—and it worked. chris turned his head, but still focused on the game. “y’good mama?” chris muted his mic as he asked you, not really paying much attention to you. “are you gonna be done with that soon?” you replied, looking at him with anticipation. “soon, baby. i’ll be all yours in an hour or so.” chris murmured dryly, not even looking at you anymore.

“an hour!? that’s too long.” you scoffed, feeling more needy by each passing second. the only thing you craved at the moment was chris’s touch. chris narrowed his eyes, his fingers still fiddling with the controller, you could hear matt’s muffled voice through his headphones. “i won’t be too long mama, jus’ wait a minute.” chris muttered.

you only rolled your eyes, finding a new way to set chris off on purpose, you knew he would put you in your place, you knew the consequences of this, yet you still took the risk. you groaned in annoyance, “whatever.” you spoke sharply. and that was all it took to set chris off. chris raised his eyebrows, moving the camera to the side so the audience saw his plain wall as he took off his headphones, fully turning on his gaming chair to face you. “what was that?” chris asked, even though he heard what you said loud and clear.

“i said whatever.” you remarked, in the most bratty tone ever. chris wasn’t gonna put up with that, not one bit. chris sucked his teeth, turning to unmute his mic briefly. “hey matt? i’ll be back in a minute.” chris told matt, you could hear matt complaining from the other end of the call. “are you kidding me, man? in the middle of a match?” matt said, his voice muffled. chris just rolled his eyes and muted his mic once more, his attention was now on you, which was just what you had wanted. you were honestly nervous and excited for what he was gonna do, a small smile formed on your face. chris didn’t fail to notice this.

“oh? y’really think you’re gettin’ what you want?” chris scoffed in disbelief, crossing the room in just 3 strides, he grabbed your shoulders and pushed you down firmly on the bed, you laid on your back. “we’ll just see bout’ that sweetheart.” chris looked down at you, his gaze filled with dominance and lust. you whined impatiently beneath him, not being able to wait any longer.

“pretty pathetic, don’t you think?” chris pulled your pajama shorts down, his eyes landing on the wet patch on your panties. “so fuckin’ pathetic, so fuckin’ needy.” chris teased your waistband, slowly dragging his fingers over the cloth of your underwear, his thumb brushing over your clit through your underwear, making you gasp.

“f—fuck..” you cursed underneath your breath, squirming as chris’s thumb circled the wet patch on your underwear. suddenly, he grabbed your panties and pulled it down to your ankles that dangled off of his bed. he gave you no time to process what was happening as he grabbed your hips, flipping you over swiftly so you were positioned on your stomach.

chris spread your legs apart, his fingers sliding across your soaked folds. “couldn’t even wait till’ i got off stream, jus’ had to be so fucking impatient, yeah?” chris chuckled in a dark manner, his hands roaming your body. from your ass, to your lower back, but not even touching the part where you needed him most. “chris—please..” you whined desperately, chris brought his finger down to your cunt, collecting your wetness around it. “what’s wrong mama? tell me what you need, use your words.” chris teased. he knew damn well about the effect he had on you, how much power he had over you.

“n—need you..” you babbled out, chris suddenly pushed his fingers into your pussy, eliciting a moan from you, a little louder than you should have. chris pumped his fingers in and out of you, you shoved your face into the sheets, muffling your moans and whimpers of desperation and pleasure. “oh yeah? what exactly do you need, hm?” chris encouraged you to tell him exactly what you wanted, he was gonna make you beg.

chris leaned forward, his head in front of your glistening cunt that was on display for him as his tongue plunged into you, eliciting a mix between a moan and gasp from you. chris sucked and bit down on your clit, moaning into your folds aa he got lost between your wetness. “yes—fuck…right there!” you breathed heavily, your legs already starting to shake with pleasure. his thumb pressed on your clit, playing with your bundle of nerves as he lifted his head, his face now hovering over yours. “don’t start shakin’ on me now, we’re not done.” chris’s lips crashed on yours, mercilessly pumping his fingers in and out of you with his free hand. as you squirmed and moaned into the kiss, chris grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. his lips danced with yours, his tongue swiping and biting against your bottom lip “what d’ya need mama?” chris mumbled into your lips.

“need you—inside me..” you whimpered out, chris smirked in satisfaction, pulling his fingers out of you. he quickly zipped his jeans down, removing his boxers and revealing his dick. without a warning, chris slammed into you, thrusting quickly, barely giving you time to adjust. “fuck! chris! slow down!” you screamed out, moaning in between. you knew you could take it, and you knew chris wasn’t gonna slow down. “why should i? apologize first for bein’ so damn needy.” chris demanded. you could’ve sworn you were in a whole new universe, you were seeing stars. the pleasure was overwhelming, it felt amazing.

chris put his free hand on your hair, tugging on it, but not hard enough to hurt you. “oh—oh my god..” you spoke, your voice fucked out and barely even audible. “gooood girl…holy shit baby—“chris groaned, he could feel you getting close as you clenched around him. chris threw his head back, gently placing his hand on your lower back, causing you to arch further.“m’close..” you moaned out, chris nodded, his thrusts getting deeper, and deeper. “i know baby, me too..” you eventually released, the knot in your stomach bursting. your orgasm set off chris’s as well, as he came with one last groan. he pulled out of you, flopping down on the bed beside you. chris gently moved a hair out of your face and smiled at you, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “did so good, love.” you smiled back, the both of you laying together in as you both cherished the sweet sound of silence. that was—until chris’s phone buzzed.

the both of you were fucked.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

taglist

[anantaru]

・✶ ｡ warnings — dry humping and neck kissing with childe, he's very needy, fem! reader <3

receiving neck kisses was such a big turn on for you and your boyfriend childe was gravely aware of that fact.

it was something you had discovered quite unexpectedly, a simple touch that ignited fires deep within you when for the first time, a sensation of soft lips brushed against your skin, a whisper of warmth intoxicating your mind— and with childe? well, those moments were especially electrifying.

you tilt your head back, giving him access to the most sensitive parts of her neck as you grant him an unspoken invitation to take control. with ease, he explores the elegant curve of your throat as he leans closer, sloppily lapping at your flesh with enough spit to cover it wholly, his breath ghosting over your wet skin before his lips made deeper contact to feel your pulse.

in the beginning, childe always starts gently, never overdoing it and testing the waters— placing feather-light kisses along your jawline and nibbling at the skin before slowly working his way down to the more sensitive parts with drool sticking on his chin.

without dissembling, it really doesn't matter where he kissed you because each touch was enough to get your knees buckling— it was futile, really, and you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped your lips and the start of your hips beginning to grind into his thigh.

in an instant, the harbinger smirks against your skin and welcomes your neediness— and for some reason it feels like he was playfully mocking your sensitive state or the fact that it didn't need a whole lot to get you to this point.

regardless, he was utterly pleased with your reaction as he knew exactly how to play you, how to draw out every ounce of pleasure from your body.

although that's not all because you see, after a while childe decides to put his knee between your legs, knowing full on well you cannot resist rubbing against it, cannot resist messing him up.

he quickly adjusts his position, keeping his knee pressed against your clothed cunt as you let out a whiny moan in response, your hips instinctively grinding into him, seeking more friction, more touch.

he intensifies his kisses and laps of tongue before sucking harshly on your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat of your heart against his lips as he continued to brand you in a swivel of messy, drooled kisses all over your collarbones.

the taste of your skin and the way you writhed beneath him was almost too much to bear and childe could feel his own desire building on his growing bulge— making it out to be a mirrored response to the fire he was stoking deep inside of you.

by the way he was flicking and dragging his wet muscle along your skin, you could tell that his twitching erection was beginning to pain him as he greedily squeezes at your hips to grind your cunt against his knee himself.

a wave of tears slips through your lashes as you look at him, "feels good, hm?" he murmurs against your skin, his forehead glowing of sweat.

luckily, your desperate little nod was enough of an answer to get childe really hungry now as he melted his touch right there, on your swollen pussy and bitten neck, imprinting his voice and grunts into your flesh so you could forever remember how well he was treating you tonight.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[hopeluna]

| 18+

I don't normally brain rot for Levi but just imagine him being the complete opposite of his quiet personality in bed.

As much as I love the idea of him whimpering for me, just imagine Levi going down on you and be absolutely pussy whipped that he just ignores your whines for him thats its too much. He's not that experienced but he eats you out like a desperate, starved man who only needs you.

You stop trying to push him away when he growls against your cunt to "just fuckin take it", before he's diving right in, his chin covered in your slick, tongue cramping from how long he's been at licking your core. You glance down just to see him straining through his pants, moving his hips just to get any friction. His eyes roll back when your taste fills his mouth for the fifth time tonight.

You think he's finally going to give you a break when you feel Levi's tongue dipping right into your cunt again.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[theastralsage]

Pillow Talk

❤︎ tags and content: accidental exhibitionism, caleb x f!reader, self pleasure, smut, sex, caleb is in heaven ❤︎ author note: reuploaded 🔞NSFW content - Minors DNI 🔞 Dividers: @/omi.resources ©2025 theastralsage do not repost, copy, translate, or modify

The room is quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside your window, neon lights casting a faint glow across your sheets. You should be sleeping. You tried to sleep. But your body had other ideas—specifically, ideas about him.

Caleb.

It started innocently enough—just a passing thought, an idle fantasy as you tossed and turned. But then you pictured his hands, firm and steady. His voice, low and teasing. The way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, when his gaze lingers a second too long.

And that’s how you ended up here.

On your stomach, hips rolling, the friction of the pillow between your thighs almost enough to satisfy the ache, but not quite. You bite your lip, muffling a whimper of his name aloud as you rock against it, thighs squeezing, chasing after something that feels just out of reach. The sheets are damp beneath you, the heat between your legs unbearable, your mind lost in the image of Caleb behind you—his strong hands gripping your hips, his voice murmuring filthy promises in your ear.

Your breath catches, your movements becoming more frantic, the pressure building—

And then—

A slow, deliberate clap sounds from the doorway.

You freeze.

Your heart lurches into your throat as your head snaps up, eyes wide, blood draining from your face in pure, unfiltered horror.

Caleb leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, a slow, wicked smirk stretching across his lips.

“Well, well.” His voice is smooth, teasing. “Didn’t expect the show tonight, but damn if I’m not impressed.”

Your mouth opens—closes—opens again, but nothing comes out. You’re still sprawled out over the pillow, your body betraying you, still pressed against it in a way that tells him exactly what you were doing.

His amethyst eyes flicker over you, unhurried, taking in every detail—your flushed skin, the way your fingers still clutch the sheets, the way your thighs tremble, aching for something more.

Caleb tilts his head. “Now, pipsqueak,” he drawls, stepping inside and shutting the door with a quiet click, “how are you gonna talk your way out of this one?

Your brain scrambles, panic and mortification flooding your veins as you frantically try to assemble words into something—anything—that can salvage this situation.

“I—I wasn’t—”

Caleb lifts a brow, amused. “Oh? You weren’t?” He nods toward your still-straddled pillow, his smirk deepening. “Could’ve fooled me, pipsqueak.”

Your body burns.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, trying to gather what little dignity remains, but all it does is make the situation worse. Caleb’s gaze darkens as he watches the way your body shifts—how your thighs twitch, the way your shirt hangs loose off your shoulder, exposing the flushed skin beneath.

You swallow. “I was just—trying to get comfortable.”

He laughs.

It’s low, rich, downright sinful. Like you just told him the funniest joke of his life.

“Comfortable?” He repeats the word slowly, rolling it over his tongue like he’s savoring it. “Huh. That’s a new one.”

His hands slide into his pockets as he moves closer, his steps leisurely, like he has all the time in the world to watch you implode.

Your pulse hammers as you scramble for another excuse. “I—had a cramp?”

Caleb grins. “A cramp.”

You nod way too quickly. “Yeah! A—um—muscle cramp. My legs were sore from—uh—training?”

He hums, his head tilting, eyes sharp. “That why you were moaning my name, then?”

Oh, fuck.

You feel the heat snap up to your ears. “I wasn’t—”

Caleb presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, clearly delighted by your struggle. “No? Must’ve been my imagination, then.” He leans down slightly, voice lowering just enough to make your stomach flip. “Y’know, since I definitely heard you.”

Your breath catches.

His eyes flick to your parted lips before dragging lower, tracing the curve of your throat, the way your chest rises and falls just a little too fast.

Caleb exhales through his nose, sharp and amused, but there’s something thicker beneath it now—something deeper, something hungry.

“You’re cute when you panic, pipsqueak,” he murmurs, his voice rougher now, his amusement edged with something darker.

You need to do something, anything, to shift control back in your favor before you combust.

So, you cross your arms, throwing him a glare—one that would’ve been a lot more effective if your entire body wasn’t still betraying you. “Okay, fine, maybe I was—” you gesture vaguely at the pillow, “—doing something—but you shouldn’t have been watching.”

Caleb grins, slow and dangerous. “Hey, pipsqueak.” He leans in, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You left the door unlocked.”

Your stomach plummets.

He chuckles, low and teasing. “Kinda seems like you wanted to get caught.”

One second, you’re scrambling for another excuse, another half-hearted denial that he would’ve loved to tear apart, and the next?

You’re pinned.

His hands grab your thighs, yanking you forward so suddenly that your breath stutters in your throat. Your back hits the mattress, and Caleb—Caleb is on you, caging you in with his forearms braced against the bed, his body flush against yours, heat radiating off him like he’s been waiting for this moment.

“Y’know,” he murmurs, voice dipped in rough amusement, “if you wanted me this bad, pipsqueak, all you had to do was ask.”

Your stomach flips, thighs instinctively squeezing together beneath him, and he notices. Oh, he notices. His gaze flickers downward, pupils blown with satisfaction.

He smirks, wicked and knowing. “Ohhh,” he breathes, dragging a hand slowly, torturously up your side. “That got you, huh?”

You glare, but it’s utterly pathetic considering how thoroughly your body is betraying you. “Shut up, Caleb.”

His grin widens, all sharp teeth and smug amusement. “Oh, Y/N.” His fingers graze up your thigh, pressing just enough to make your breath catch. “That’s not how this works.”

You try to shift, try to salvage what’s left of your dignity, but it’s pointless. He’s got you exactly where he wants you, and worst of all?

You want him there.

Caleb’s voice drops, smooth and taunting. “Be honest, pipsqueak.” His fingers tighten just enough against your skin. “You were thinking about me while you did it, weren’t you?”

Your body burns, and Caleb lives for it.

His smirk darkens. “C’mon. Say it.”

Your jaw tightens, teeth digging into your lip, and fuck, you hate how much this is affecting you.

Caleb leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Say it,” he commands, his voice gravel and smoke. “Tell me you were fucking yourself to the thought of me.”

A shudder racks through you. You can’t say it. You won’t say it—

He presses down, his weight firm and unrelenting, and suddenly, the friction is too much. Your breath stumbles, a sound—a desperate, helpless sound—slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

And Caleb?

He groans, low and wrecked, like that noise broke something in him.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, voice rasped with restraint. “I’m done waiting.”

Then he’s kissing you, hard, fierce, like he’s been starving for you all this time and he’s finally, finally allowed to eat.

His hands claim you, gripping, kneading, owning, and every inch of your body responds, pressing, arching, needing.

You don’t know if you lost, or if this was your plan all along.

But hell, you’re not complaining.

END DRABBLE 

<hr>

His kiss is hungry, all heat and dominance, lips crushing against yours as his hands roam—fingers splaying across your thighs, gripping your hips, claiming you like he has every right to. And at this moment? He does.

Because you let him.

You want him.

And fuck, he knows it.

“Didn’t even have the patience to wait for me, huh?” Caleb taunts against your lips, his voice a low, dark thing that vibrates straight through you. He drags his teeth along your bottom lip, pulling, teasing, before sucking the sting away with a kiss so hot it leaves you breathless.

His hands trail down, slow, deliberate, until his fingers are teasing the waistband of your sleep shorts—like he’s giving you a chance to stop him. Like he’s giving you an out.

But neither of you are stupid.

You’re not stopping this.

You arch into him, pressing your thighs tighter around his hips, a silent plea wrapped in a challenge.

And Caleb? He smirks against your skin.

“Oh, pipsqueak,” he purrs, slipping his fingers beneath your shorts, grazing over damp fabric. “You really did a number on yourself, didn’t you?”

Your breath catches as he rubs slow, teasing circles over the wet spot on your panties, his touch barely there—just enough to make you whimper, not enough to satisfy.

“You were thinking about me,” he murmurs, his voice dripping satisfaction. “Humping that poor little pillow, soaking it through, all because you wanted me.”

His teeth graze your jaw as he presses down, his fingers slipping against you, spreading that slick exactly where he wants it.

“Did it feel good?” Caleb asks, his lips trailing down your throat, sucking just lightly—just enough to make you shiver. “Or did you stop before you could finish?”

You don’t answer.

Because you can’t.

Not when he slides two fingers between your folds, spreading your slick, teasing your entrance but not giving you what you want.

Not when he presses a single, devastating kiss to your collarbone and whispers,

“Don’t worry, pipsqueak.”

His fingers press inside, slow, stretching, filling you.

“I’ll take care of you properly.”

And fuck, he does.

His fingers move deep, curling just right, finding that spot that makes you jolt, makes your mouth drop open on a silent cry.

Caleb grins, watching you.

“Oh, yeah,” he rasps, his breath hot against your ear. “This is way better than your pillow, huh?”

And all you can do is moan, hips rocking against his hand, begging for more. 

His fingers thrust deep, curling against that perfect spot inside you, his pace unrelenting, dragging moan after moan from your lips. Every time you try to bite them back, to keep some scrap of dignity, he punishes you for it—his fingers slowing, teasing, withholding exactly what you need.

“Aw, pipsqueak,” Caleb mocks, his voice all dark amusement as he watches you squirm. “You’re shy now? Funny, didn’t seem so shy when you were riding that pillow like it owed you money.”

Heat flares in your cheeks, your body betraying you as your hips rock into his touch, chasing the pleasure he’s dangling just out of reach.

You’re soaked, slick dripping down his fingers, onto his palm, and he’s eating up every single second of your desperation.

“So needy,” Caleb tuts, pulling his fingers from you, dragging them slowly over your clit before pulling away entirely. “And greedy, too.”

You whine before you can stop yourself, thighs trembling, aching for more.

And Caleb? Oh, he lives for it.

“Poor thing,” he croons, his fingers slipping under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, smoldering, but beneath the amusement, there’s something else—something possessive.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing over your lower lip, pressing just slightly into your mouth, teasing. “Are you gonna be good for me?”

You nod, too fast, too eager. But it’s not enough.

“Use your words, pipsqueak,” Caleb orders, his voice dropping.

Your breath shudders. “Y-Yes. Yes, Caleb, I’ll be good.”

His smirk is wicked.

“Good girl.”

Then, in one swift movement, he flips you onto your stomach, his hands firm on your waist, dragging you up onto your knees.

Your pulse spikes.

Oh. Oh.

“You made me wait, pipsqueak,” he rasps, his hands spreading you open, his cock hot and hard against you. “Made me sit there while you fucked yourself to the thought of me.”

His grip tightens.

“So now?”

His hips snap forward, burying himself inside you in one, slow, brutal stroke.

“I’m gonna make you feel just how bad you’ve been.”

Your cry is wrecked, pleasure and shock crashing through you as he fills you, stretching you open with the kind of ruthless precision that makes your mind white out.

Caleb groans, low and guttural, his fingers digging into your hips as he bottoms out, giving you no time to adjust before he starts moving.

Hard. Fast.

Each thrust is punishing, knocking the air from your lungs, pushing you into the mattress. The slick sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, filthy, loud—there’s no way anyone outside wouldn’t hear if they walked past.

Not that you can care.

Not when he angles his hips just right, hitting that spot that sends you spiraling, makes you clench tight around him.

“Fuck,” Caleb hisses, his pace stuttering for half a second before he growls and grips the back of your neck, forcing your cheek into the mattress.

“You feel that?” he breathes, his lips ghosting your ear, his cock dragging through your soaked, needy walls with every deep, unrelenting thrust. “No pillow could ever fuck you like this.”

You keen, back arching, hands gripping at the sheets as pleasure piles on top of itself, threatening to break you.

Caleb grins.

“Bet you won’t even think about humping that thing again after this.”

He snaps his hips forward—hard, perfect—and your moan cuts off, turning into something higher, something desperate.

“Oh, that’s it,” Caleb praises, his fingers tightening on your waist as he fucks into you like a man possessed. “Gonna let me ruin you, pipsqueak? Gonna let me make sure you never need that pillow again?”

You nod, moaning so loud you barely hear your own voice. “Yes—Caleb, yes, please—”

And fuck, does he love when you beg.

His fingers snake into your hair, gripping tight as he pulls your head back, his mouth right against your ear.

“That’s my girl.”

Then, without warning, he snaps his hips into you one last time, hitting so deep it sends you over the edge, your body locking up as the pleasure rips through you.

Your vision whites out, a wrecked moan spilling from your lips as your release crashes over you, making you shake, making you clench down on him so tight he groans, his pace losing rhythm.

“Fuck, fuck—” Caleb grits out, his grip bruising as he buries himself deep, spilling inside you with a wrecked groan.

He stills, his breath ragged, his body pressing against yours, heat rolling off him in waves.

For a long, long moment, the only sound in the room is the panting of your breaths, the aftershocks shuddering through you.

Then—Caleb chuckles, his lips pressing against your spine, a slow, lazy kiss.

“Told you,” he murmurs, smug as hell.

You groan, half-buried in the mattress.

“Shut up.”

Caleb grins, biting lightly at your shoulder before rolling over, pulling you with him.

His arms wrap tightly around you as he murmurs, “you love it.”