#i need to explode him the grip he has on my mind needs to be studied

[spread-the-influence]

When Ragatha said she feels like she failed Pomni the same way she failed Jax, do you think she meant "I failed to stop Pomni/Jax from slipping into evil" or "I failed to be a good friend to Pomni/Jax because something I did (*cough* trying to help everyone instead of having a desire for herself *cough*) somehow alienated them"? Or I guess it's probably both? Ragatha feels like she made Pomni reject her by asking to team with Kinger (because she put Kinger's perceived needs ahead of her own want) and saying "I'll be here if you need me" instead of "I wanted to team with you". Then Jax pushes Pomni down the same bad path he went down. Ragatha now blames herself for causing Pomni to somehow hate her AND for Pomni becoming a new Jax, and Kinger's like "no, Pomni's fine, you don't have to be with her at all times to maintain a friendship with her"?

There's a lot going on with Ragatha this episode is what I'm saying.

shakily grips your shoulder . bear . with . me .

it could be both ! for my interpretation personally , it's the latter ... kinda ? it's complicated .

many things were dropped from that conversation but i'll start by talking about why i Think ragatha thought she failed pomni ;

ragatha has the problem of Coming On Too Strong , she said it herself — she would try too hard to get on someone's good side only to push them away . which , from the way jax and gangle talked about her and how she Tried to get pomni's attention in episode 5 , it tracks . she's lucky that pomni has the patience of a fucking saint because she still comes back to ragatha after 5 episodes of her bullshittery —

we have the benefit of not being restricted to a point of view , so we Know that pomni isn't really rejecting ragatha . but because ragatha has ... 5 undiagnosed mental illnesses , she couldn't see that . her getting close to jax isn't making a new friend in ragatha's mind — it's pomni getting tired of her . it's ragatha letting someone down ... Again .

clearly she's a ' Bad Person ' ! she has said ' Wrong Things ' that day that Definitely soured pomni's opinion of her ! and that's not even getting into the way she exploded at her ! Can't she do anything right ?!

with all of that context , even saying No would weigh on ragatha . apart from her being a people pleaser and thus she'll think setting a boundary would be like putting a landmine that'll blast her friendships away — it's pushing pomni away even more . pomni's reaching out even after seeing how much of a ' Bad Person ' ragatha is , and what did she do ? reject it !

which — well , of course pomni just accepts it , it's Just saying no . but to ragatha's Disorders it's like she exploded their bond entirely . because she said no to pomni , pomni totally HATES her now and will leave her and prove ragatha's belief of being unlovable once more and then become a worser person because of jax on top of that Which Is Totally A Realistic Scenario !!!

basically this entire thing is just ragatha beating herself up over a problem that ... Doesn't Even Exist . she still needs that conversation about boundaries of course but her thoughts of everyone hating her is Twisted , at best . it's sadly hilarious in a way .

with the context of jax , i did always suspect that ragatha has tried to be close to him and he rejected it . unlike pomni though , he clearly did it vehemently . jax got tired of her . ragatha let him down . people are thinking that she came on too strong after he's grieving ribbit's abstraction , i personally think her vibes were just Off from the start .

i said this and i'll say it again now that this was validated — the one person that ragatha hates more than jax is Herself . my girl has self-worth issues , it's clear that she pressures herself to be there for everyone because it's the only way she could feel worthy of love . but of course because relationships are , well , Two-Sided and that one person can't be lifting all of the effort , people are obviously put off by that . and because ragatha has Problems she interprets it as Oh they hate me now ): than Oh they just need space (: . oh my girl with rejection sensitive dysphoria

on a semi-related note that i couldn't find a way to put into the post ; i've been thinking about the ' like she's seen through all my tricks and doesn't trust me anymore ' line , which has interesting implications . it shows that ragatha has some degree of self-awareness that her persona's a mask . the specific wording of ' tricks ' is interesting as well because it means ragatha thinks she's Kind Of deceitful in a way . do you guys think she probably hates herself for being like this ?

[riddlesrose]

kissin him stupid

w/ the housewardens

in which you were recently gifted a tube of lipstick from grim, you're unsure of where he got it or why he decided it's yours now but it's given you a fantastic idea.

(he probably stole it from vil somehow and wants to place the blame on you..)

note; malleus' is the shortest but the most full of love i swear to goooood but the post itself is quite long

part two!

if riddle could form a proper sentence right now, he might scold you for slacking off, or breaking rule six hundred and seventeen, or he may just ask you to do it again. if colours could speak, his face would scream in comparison to the red accents in the housewarden’s room, uniform and matching hair. 

you attempt to keep a sober expression but he seriously cannot be so flustered by a single kiss? the red lip stain on his cheek is bright against the flush of his cheeks, as he sputters vowels and consonants, attempting to speak, to protest, to ask you what in the queen’s name are you doing.

you invited riddle over to the ramshackle dorm under the guise of needing help with studying, but you had this motive the entire time. riddle could feel your rebel to his help and directions if he ignored the obvious fact you hadn’t even cracked the spine of your book yet (to be fair it was only assigned today, and it was a new book), and the devious smile you attempted to hide until now. 

riddle took a breath, finally feeling sensible enough, “what… was that.” 

“affection, riddle. this isn’t new.” you shot, tone dripping in sarcasm. 

“yes, my rose, i know that. i mean,” he grabs hold of your uniform tie, drawing you closer, “what’s with the lipstick?” your head probably could have exploded, where did this riddle come from and how can he be drawn out more often?

you press a swift kiss to riddle’s other cheek, thanks to the proximity. “i have no explanation,” you press another kiss onto his forehead, “i simply was gifted it,” a kiss to his temple, “this morning.” the grip riddle has on your tie loosens completely as it falls back onto your chest, slightly wrinkled from the force. 

“i just had this ironed!” you frown. 

“i-i’ll get it done again.” riddle stands, brushing invisible dust off his jacket, though nothing could distract from the shade of pink that covers his face. 

“you’ll iron my tie for me? how kind.” you wrap an arm around riddle’s waist, pulling him close. he drops his forehead against your chest with a thud, inaudibly mumbling to himself. 

you wrap your other arm around him as he takes your face between his hands, slightly squishing into your cheeks he drags your face to his height, kissing you feverishly. 

“where did this riddle come from? i like him.” 

“i just felt… bold i suppose.” riddle’s red tinted lips smile against yours.

“do it again!”

leona stirs underneath you. you’re sat, straddling either side of his hips, weight pressed on his defined torso. leona doesn’t know it but you’ve practically trapped him where he sleeps. where he’s asleep currently, that is. in your dorm. 

on your couch.

using your pillows, taking in the setting sun like a true feline, though you would never dare utter the word feline anywhere near him lest you face the wrath of a moody boyfriend. 

you silently laugh to yourself, leaning down and pressing your lips on the prince’s temple.

leona stirs again at that, attempting to roll over – he cracks an eye when you gasp. slowly, coming to his senses, he furrows his brows at your positioning. you weren’t there when he fell asleep, when did you do that, and why are you sitting on him with half of a sinister smile across your lips…

and when did your lips turn red? he brings a hand up to rub his face, trying to shake the sleep out of his fogged mind, but you catch his hand before it makes contant. 

“don’t, it’ll mess up all my hard work,” you say with a half hint of embarrassment. (just a hint; only because you were caught before you could slip away undiscovered.)

leona’s confusion increases, as he detaches your hand from his wrist. he takes his freed hand up to your lips and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, smudging it further across the line of your lip.

he inspects his red finger, “is this… lipstick?” you purse your lips in an attempt to stifle the laugh that bubbles in your chest. he looks ridiculous; eyes half lidded, nose crunched in focus and red marks painting his face.

your tinted lips curl upwards slightly into a smug grin, “maybe?” if leona knows one thing, it’s smug grins. he matches yours and wipes his thumb on your cheek, smearing the lipstick off his thumb and onto your skin. 

you playfully swat his hand away and lean down to continue painting your masterpiece, placing another kiss on his skin – onto the spot between his eyebrows. leona’s hand find your hip, giving a teasing pinch to the side. 

leona may be a prince used to some pampering, but this is some treatment he could get used to. 

azul has a finger in every pie, as riddle likes to say. you’re very much aware of that as your boyfriend likes to talk your ear off about his investments, new opportunities and the lounge. you’re so very proud of all of his hard work but sometimes he gets off on a tangent that doesn’t stop until you make him. usually with a kiss. it flusters him just enough that he forgets what he was going on about and it works every time. 

this time, however, was a bit different. azul didn’t take notice of the hue change of your lips as you leaned in and shut him up. drawing back, you snicker at his pursed lips and flushed cheeks, and the red lipstick smeared around his lips.

azul peeked in your direction, curious. you usually find it funny when he’s flustered like this but you were laughing a little too much. he noticed the messy red lipstick and furrowed his brows, wiping a finger across his lips. 

you suppressed a smile as you watched him curiously examine his stained finger, “it’s lipstick.” he concludes. 

“well… obviously? i thought that would have been pretty clear,” you grab his hand, wiping the red off of his finger. 

before azul can retort you lean in to kiss him again; anywhere you can get your lips on before he shells himself away, utterly embarrassed. a kiss to his cheek, jaw, forehead, nose, other cheek, forehead again, has him sputtering, almost begging to be released. 

azul places his free hand on your shoulder, trying to push you away while laughing between breaths. when you do back up, leaning back on your hand, he almost looks sad. (as if he wasn’t actively trying to get you off!) 

“so, mister ashengrotto? feeling loved and appreciated yet?” you give him a toothy grin, watching as his face contorts from flustered to even-more-flustered. (if that’s possible.)

“well yes! i dare say i’m feeling very valued and cherished as well.” despite his rosy features, his voice is unwavering, full of conviction. 

his confident, put-together outer layer completely melts away when you’re alone with him, but this has him absolutely on fire, a feeling no number could replace. numbers can’t give affection, you give it tenfold in their stead. 

kalim’s permanent grin widens when you claim you’ve got a gift for him. he expectantly holds out his hands, making you shake your head. 

“it’s more of an eyes closed kind of gift,” you start, kalim instantly squeezes his eyes shut. he puts so much trust in you that you worry jamil has eyes everywhere. everywhere. but you brush the jesting idea away, believing that you wouldn’t even be allowed on scarabia grounds if jamil didn’t trust you with the housewarden. 

you turn to a nearby mirror, passing the tube of red lipstick over your lips. the smooth makeup applies nice and neatly. (doesn’t matter because you know it won’t be neat for long.)

you step back over to where kalim’s sitting on the edge of his bed, standing between his knees. he’s waiting not-so patiently, he looks like he’s almost vibrating, is he really that excited? you suppress a smile as you gently grab onto his jaw, tilting his head to the side as you press your lips to his cheek. his laughter immediately fills the room, making you press more kisses over his face. one to his forehead, one on the nose, another on the other cheek, his temples, and anywhere you can get before he’s laughing too much, pushing you away.

“it tickles,” he heaves a breath, “stop!” a wider smile grows on his face after seeing yours, the red lipstick you applied had smudged around your lips, looking not-so neat. his face isn’t much better, tan skin littered in red kisses.

while you’re mentally retaining the image of kalim covered in red lip marks, you notice him looking more intently at you. you raise a brow, curiously.

“my turn, give it here!” he reaches a hand out, expecting the tube of lipstick?

you look at him bewildered, “what?” 

“my turn!” he repeats. he seems real set on returning the ‘gift’ it seems. kalim’s all smiles as you hand him the black tube. he exposes the stick and passes it over his own lips, tossing it aside and pulling you down to his seated height. he flattens his lips across the expanse of your face, getting at any skin he can just like you did to him. 

when he deems he’s finished, you’re dazed and equally covered in red lipstick stains, smiles wide across your faces. matching stained faces for matching blitheringly infatuated idiots.

vil leans on the back of his vanity chair; his face littered in different coloured lip marks. the reason? he claims he wants to see which ones compliment him the most. 

you know he already knows exactly which shades of each brand line do exactly that. (thanks, rook.) vil doesn’t know that you know he’s already figured this out. 

you wipe the makeup remover-soaked cotton pad across your lips, ridding it of the pink. “what would all of your fans think if they knew you were being covered completely in rainbow kisses?” you wipe the moisture from your lips as vil reaches around you to grab another tube, but you stop him. 

“i’m sure they would lose their minds,” you reach into your pocket, revealing a miscellaneous tube of lipstick, it matches none of the previously discarded lipsticks, nor does it have a brand logo on it. “where did you find this?” vil takes the lipstick in his hand, nimbly examining the exterior. he removes the top to reveal a rich, velvety red colour. his eyes widen just slightly. 

“it’s a secret,” you wink and take the lipstick from him and apply it, smiling as you replace its cap and let it fall from your hand, onto a messy vanity behind you. 

vil wraps an arm around your neck, drawing you closer to his seated level, “well, share your secret with me, if you would be so kind.” you swiftly close the gap between yourself and the housewarden, administering a healthy dose of red onto his lips and the surrounding skin. 

he parts first, his cheeks dawn a hint of pink that’s hidden behind the various stains on his otherwise perfect skin. he truly is the most beautiful person ever. makeup or not, hair tied back or loose, vil is sincerely as pretty as the morning's first light, a flower; freshly bloomed, and a fresh set of nails. 

“you’re staring. not that i mind,” you snap out of your hazy daydream about your gorgeous boyfriend and back into reality. 

“yeah, sorry. you’re just really fucking pretty.” you lean down and tenderly kiss his forehead as he internally squeals like one of his fan-girls. he really hit the jackpot with you as his (second) biggest fan.

idia looks up at you with wide yellow eyes, but they have a sort of gloss over them that makes you believe he would not want you to get up and leave his dorm right now. you grin at his feeble attempt of a silent, inconclusive plea. an ask to what, you’re unsure because his face (minus the eyes) and hands grabbing at you tell you he’s very much enjoying you straddling his hips right now.

you reach into your pocket, revealing your master plan. a tube of lipstick, you swipe it over your lips once, then twice before replacing the cap and tossing it down, letting it hit the plush bedsheet you’re atop. 

the translucent tips of his hair start to turn pink as you lean down towards his face. a trembling hand comes up to your shoulder, not pushing you away but seemingly grounding the housewarden underneath you. “how cute,” you smile against his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another to his left cheek, then the right. one more on his forehead for good measure. maybe one more. okay, one last one couldn’t hurt.

you sit upright and drag a hand down idia’s chest, over the sweater you know is probably two sizes to large for him, (but that’s how he likes them you suppose and it just makes for a more comfortable sweater when you steal ‘em) while admiring the definitely not smudge-proof lipstick marks on idia’s face, giggling as you compare the red smears to his blue features. you wonder if-

the rapid rise and fall of idia’s chest catches your attention, it almost sounds like he’s hyperventilating, but when you look up to his face it’s surrounded by fiery pink hair and a flush across his cheeks, spanning down his neck, you realize he’s fine. probably a little more than fine. 

“well, that’s some false advertising,” you smile, wiping at the edges of your lips lightly with a finger. idia snaps out of his stupor, hastily agreeing with a stuttered breath. his hands find your hips, giving you a small squeeze. you lean down and press a proper kiss to his lips, you lift away just as quick as you bent down, pushing idia back down as he chases you up, hoping for more. a pitiful whine escapes him as his hair burns brighter. 

the red lipstick mixes with his natural blue lips gives him a sort of purple that would put the octavinelle’s house colour to shame. though, he almost looks forlorn. the usual solemn and gloomy housewarden; reduced to a blushing mess after a few kisses. 

hilarious, isn’t it?

malleus’s eyes flutter shut, a pleased sigh escapes his lips. his hands, hidden by your sweater, trace messy patterns on your back as his nails scratch lightly. he’s unsure of how he got himself into this humanoid predicament but he’s not complaining. 

you’re sat in his lap, placing kisses all over his face, leaving red lip marks behind. 

“you look like you’re enjoying this more than i am, malleus.” you bring a hand up to rake it through his bangs, pushing them behind his horns and revealing the shiny scales hidden beneath. 

the housewarden cracks a sharp emerald eye, examining your features. the slope of your nose, the curve of your stained lips, your eyelashes, cheeks. your eyes. oh how he loves your eyes, the way they look up to him with adoration, not fear or indifference like other humans do. 

you cup his cheek, “malleus?” 

he blinks once, twice. the gloss over his eyes breaks, refocusing on you. “i apologize, i was lost in thought.” 

“i could tell,” you trace your finger to the tip of his ear, then drop your hand back into your lap. “what were you thinking of? me?” 

“yes.” 

“woah, okay. blunt!” heat rises to your face. 

a hand leaves your back, trailing around your side and up to tuck a piece of hair away from your eyes. “was i not suppose to tell the truth?” 

“no, malleus, you should have said you were thinking of pancakes.” 

“but i wasn’t? i was thinking of-” you cut him off, placing a kiss on his lips. 

“now, let me resume my art.”

malleus is more than happy to sit as still as the gargoyle statues he studies while you press kisses all over his face. he is, truly is.

this was so self indulgent i ain’t even sorry (is my favouritism showing??)

masterlist

[paint-n-thinner]

this got me all sorts of fucked up, bravo op you cooked with this one ✍️

PぇあせたーLSぼいTくPぢっRSぎおなーふぇあろFへーっPぇあぜPーえあZDーえっせ I forgot to change language but, PLEASE talk about cups irrational fear of help/therapy, I love your long ass essays plz🔥🔥

This is the thing - IM!Cup is very closed-minded when it comes to new things; change has never been a benevolent mistress to him, after all. Which is understandable - you close off from the things that hurt you so they can't happen again, and while that's a survival tactic and fine on its own, the goal of therapy is to work on yourself and find a way to live life the best you can manage. And Cuphead is not living, but surviving. There's a difference. He's constantly paranoid, looking over his shoulder in case him and Mugs need to run immediately, he's in vigil 24/7 (does this man fucking sleep? Maybe, remains to be seen) so nobody can sneak up on them, even if they have money from the Devil (and it doesn't sound like a negligible amount either) he doesn't seem keen on spending it - probably 'cuz that's all they have in terms of monetary gain. He's been trained into these instincts and second-nature acts that he performs like a ritual every day - have you seen him relaxed? - and these things take a toll on you; there's a reason being on "survival mode" for prolonged periods of time is fucking dangerous - our bodies ain't made for that. He's also just. Scared of spilling his guts out, of being vulnerable and being taken advantage of - "that's happened already three times, who's to say it won't happen many more?" - as he seeks help; this is a learning curve, understanding that one needs help and that they're in a comfortable enough position to seek it out and get it ain't gonna come naturally to a lotta folks, especially if they've been doing the shit he's been doing for the past decade.

When he looks in the mirror he doesn't see what we see: in our eyes, Cuphead is a victim of sorts - a victim turned victimizer, but a victim nonetheless - who's hand has been forced for a decade into all sorts of nefarious acts and activities, who wakes up only to try and keep on going for his brother's sake. We think of Cuphead as a brave yet vulnerable man, somebody who's been beaten to the ground day in and day out, loyal to a fault, a golden heart who, given the chance, wouldn't hurt anybody who didn't raise their hand against him first. When he looks in the mirror, all he sees is a monster. And typically, people don't like monsters.

People don't help monsters, the undesirables, the unworthy - in his mind therapy isn't for "somebody like him" and it ain't hard to see what that means to him: a villain, a monster, a killer and maybe, just maybe, someone worse than the Devil. He doesn't think himself worthy of help, because all he sees in his eyes is the flash of demon-blood red, in his hands the blood he's spilled, in his face a perpetually furrowed brow and pursed lip - and he's forgotten that those features are a mask. When he looks in the mirror he sees what the Devil has sharpened him into, and not what he actually is. Everybody is deserving of help and improvement, yet Cup doesn't want it because for it he needs to be vulnerable - he isn't that, not anymore. He's quick on the uptake and knows how to learn his lessons, so he wouldn't let himself be deconstructed like a frog on science class - he isn't some shrink's little lab rat, he won't be metaphorically (but it ain't gonna feel all that metaphorical) vivisected for what he would probably percieve as the entertainment of anybody. He's not stupid, he's not blind - yet he is paranoid and overly carefull, he needs to be, and these things get in the way of him getting help. He doesn't fully recognize that he's got people on his corner - for the longest time it had been only him and Mugs, and he's the protector, the muscle of their little duo. He's the one to defend Mugs, to keep his hands as clean from the carnage as their situation would allow; he's the intimidating one, the brother willing to be the villain so the other can sleep semi-peacefully at night - after all, if Mugs isn't happy, is Cup doing his job correctly?

He's never had somebody go to bat for him, so therapy is an even stranger concept - and y'know that paranoia has people seeing demons in the bushes and witches in the trees.

[monstersholygrail]

In a Free Use City, your knowledge on the subject of your job isn’t always what’s most important. And in your case, it’s the least important. You were actually known as quite a ditz in the Free Use City Offices.

You worked in the tech department surrounded by a bunch of hot and nerdy guys who spoke in yours you couldn’t even begin to understand. You were just happy to be there and they were happy to ogle you and press against you whenever you asked for their help with any simple task.

They thought they had the upper hand on you, thinking they were so clever. But you had them all on a leash. An entire department at your disposal to give you pleasure whenever you wanted.

Your favorite man to bother was IT Robot. He got his work done fast and spent the rest of the day goofing off. The easy air around him made him approachable and the way all his shirts fit snugly against his bulging pecs made you drip with need.

You can’t help but spare him another glance before hesitantly returning your gaze to your own computer, the screen filled with the program you still haven’t figured out. Great, now you were confused and horny.

“Need me for something?” IT Robot’s voice suddenly purrs into your ears. His steel-like grip grabbing onto your plush hips and pulling you back into his hard chest.

His body molds to yours so perfectly it has you tingling all over. Arousal gushing and soaking through your panties. He turns you on so bad even when he barely did anything but it was like your body was out of control. As if it could be programmed just for him when he was the robot.

“Help… I hurt,” you say with a pout, your mind turning to complete mush whenever you’re around him.

IT Robot flashes you with that charming lopsided smile of his, heavily amused by the puddle you melt into whenever he talks to you.

“Where does it hurt, huh? It hurt here?”

He caresses your soft belly with an appreciation that borders on worship before one hand slips beneath your skirt, nuzzling his fingers between your soaked folds.

“Or here?” He asks while the other gives a little pat on your head.

A low whine escapes your lips as he rolls his fingers over your clit, your hips jerking into the touch. And that’s all it takes to have IT Robot plunging three of his fingers deep into your cunt, making you gasp and tremble in his arms.

“That’s what I thought… Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll fix the issue right away. It’s what I do after all.”

Your vision blurs as you dive into the pleasure head first. Choking out harsh moans as IT Robot’s fingers move inside you with precision like he has an entire map of your pretty pussy printed in his head. His fingers move in a blur as they pump themselves inside you, hitting all the right places that have you seeing stars. Each curl of his fingers sends your pussy fluttering and clenching down around him.

“Squeeze me tight, honey, ngh c’mon! Don’t think about a thing, just focus on being my pretty baby. My good girl.”

His words send the last thoughts in your head flying out the window, reducing you to nothing but his perfect little fuck toy. Your body relaxes without having to worry about a thing, allowing the ecstasy to overwhelm you.

IT Robot chuckles again as that fucked out expression fills your features. He flattens his palm so that it rubs hard against your clit with every snap of his fingers. With a few quick movements it has you falling over the edge and exploding all over his hand. Your vision flashes white as your orgasm rolls through you and you can’t find the strength to move any of your limbs after.

But that’s alright, IT Robot will take care of you, his fingers slipping out of your pulsing cunt with a pop, and giving your temple a soft kiss. He doesn’t bother cleaning up his hand dripping with your cum as he starts typing on your computer, solving the issue with the program you were using, and successfully helping you with both your aches.

“There, there. I’ve got you, pretty. Just keep feelin’ good. All because of me,” he whispers in your ear. Planning to spend the rest of the day doing all your work for you.

[bluukive]

One-track Mind

summary - taking a bath with your husband hardly ever goes well

content - nanami x fem!reader, female anatomy, grinding, mostly just making out, reader wants a cat yippee

wc - 943

an - the heat is making my head hurt and I've been up since 3am so I just let my brain explode for this one huueeehurf :(

“And it’d be perfect if I had a cat,” you mumble, fingers splashing against the water around you. “Because I wouldn’t be lonely when you’re away doing your stupid paperwork.”

It has been a good half an hour of you rambling away in your husband's lap, bare back to his broad chest as the steam emitting from the hot water sloshing around you curled up into the air. You felt woozy from the heat, but you couldn’t complain. You felt safe with Nanami’s chest rising and falling deeply against you as you went on and on about the little calico cat that often approached you for food. She was a cute little thing, often roaming about the streets with no collar around her neck. 

“I mean, there’s only so much silence I can handle, Ken!”

A low, non-committal grunt leaves him as he slides his hands up and down your plush thighs beneath the water as you spoke. His touch is aimless, as if he’s doing it unconsciously. Nanami should have been listening. He usually does so in a manner so devoted and receptive. 

But not tonight. 

Tonight, his mind is somewhere else. You don’t even realise your husband’s hands have slid onto the crease of your hips, padded thumbs sweeping over the soft pudge of flesh his lips were so familiar with. Nanami grips you, giving your body a squeeze before pulling your lower half back until he could feel the swell of your ass around his hardened cock. A soft groan leaves his lips as he hunches over you and presses a greedy flurry of kisses to the curve of your shoulder, almost like a silent apology for not giving you all of his attention.

“...you’re not even listening to me,” you realise, a small sigh leaving your kiss-bitten lips— a small gift from earlier after Nanami had come home from work,

“I’m listening,” your husband replied curtly, voice husky and thick. Despite his words, you could tell Nanami was distracted. It’s like he’s more focused on the way your wet body fits against his.

But then he speaks again before you can reply. Nanami wasn’t listening whatsoever.

“May I touch you some more? Please?”

Nanami’s voice falters at his plea and your head turns back. Your movements are encouraged by a large hand cupping your jaw, angling your mouth towards his. The incessant yet welcome throb of his length between your rear was more prominent the longer your husband soaked in that increasingly playful look in your eye. You rolled your hips back, all coy when Nanami twitched almost violently. 

“You may.” And that was all the encouragement he needed. His next movements crossed the blurred line between worshipping and starved.

You look gorgeous, he wanted to say, but the overwhelming need to show you instead took over. With one hand cupping your pussy, Nanami slots his lips over yours. It’s wetter than usual, drops of moisture clinging to you both. 

There’s no room for words as he holds your jaw in place, the full veins on his hands fattening as he tightens his grip. It was an attempt to anchor himself onto you, his lifeline, whilst relearning every inch of your mouth. There was no rush at all, only the gentle sound of his lips dragging against yours in a loving smooch. His tongue unravels you, draws out an earnest gasp from your throat as it lazily strokes against your own. It’s slick and loud, and it takes all of your effort not to move your head away in embarrassment. 

“Ah, Ken…” you began. Your lidded eyes watched the way he chased that string of saliva connecting you both. Nanami’s tongue darted out, swiping over his lower lip as he took a much needed breath. But with you, he didn’t want to breathe. Your own hands were firmly planted on his bulky thighs, nails almost raking against the muscular flesh.

“You talk so much,” he mutters, warm breath hitting your mouth as he gives your pussy another reassuring squeeze, like he owned it. You mewled in response, legs positively unable to stay closed. They fell open, and a soft coo of approval left Nanami’s lips.

“God, I love it. I love you.” And he meant it.

He looks ruined, wet hair plastered to his forehead and cheeks flushed with arousal as he skims his fingers over your aching clit. Poor Ken, you thought. Work must have been incredibly rough.

Either that or he felt bad about leaving you alone at home for so long without his love. 

His words and touch had you fighting between the urge to laugh or moan, and you were slowly slumping against him further into the cooling water of the tub. Your husband paused his movements reluctantly, deciding that he had taken away your ability to talk for long enough.

“Haahh, you’re not even letting me speak.”

“Alright, alright. I swear I’m listening now,” he coaxes you to continue talking, though he badly wanted to do anything but speak. 

You only spoke after a brief beat of silence, debating whether to inform him of your request. But Nanami knew what you were going to say, and so a wry grin formed on his lips.

Your head turned back to face the tile wall before you, one hand tracing the grooves of muscle of the arm that was currently back around your waist. “Can we get a cat?”

“...you truly have a one-track mind, my love.”

Despite his teasing words, Nanami fully intended on making up for being a workaholic, whether that be buying you a cat, or satiating your baby fever later that night.

[rafesangelita]

♡ rafe is tired, but never too tired to have pretty little sheep!reader bouncing on his cock

warnings: dealer!rafe, light fluff, sleepy sex, riding & reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, spanking, hair pulling, use of the name ‘daddy’, tit sucking

a/n: sheep!reader has been getting heavily requested.. so ask and you shall receive! i’ll be giving longer fics a small break until my pogue!sweetheart!reader series is done because my brain is actually going to explode lol

nothing felt better than coming home to you after a long day of bullshit and seeing you in nothing but those cute thigh high socks of yours. especially when you were so needy and willing to do all of the work. you’d give rafe what felt like a thousand kisses all over his face, his arms wrapped around your waist as you gushed about how much you missed him and thought about him all day. “yeah? i missed you more.” you’d smile at his words, quickly getting him out of his clothes.

you massaged the tension out of his shoulders and left trails of kisses along his skin, your boyfriend growing more relaxed as your skilled hands worked to get him unwinded. by the time you were finished, he was barely able to keep his eyes open, his heavy-lidded gaze meeting yours. “what do you want, baby? you’ve been looking at me like you got something on your mind..” your cheeks heated in response, his fingers dancing along your flesh.

“i know you’re tired.. but can i get on top?” a lazy smile made its way to rafe’s lips before he pulled you onto his lap.

“fuck, yeah.”

those two words were all the confirmation you needed, your shaky hands planted on rafe’s thighs as you moved on top of him, his cock filling you to the hilt. watching you move so fluidly on top of him was enough to make his eyes roll to the back of his head, the sight of your soaked cunt gripping him with every drag of your hips drew more moans from him than the last. “ah, f-fuck! you’re just taking that shit..” rafe was mesmerized, his large palm resting in the curve of thigh.

you cried out when his hand came down on the globe of your ass, a stinging sensation spreading across your sensitive skin. “riding me dumb, huh?” rafe grunted, wrapping a fist in your hair before pulling you back against his chest. you were arched almost painfully in this position, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. “poor baby, here by herself all day..” you whimpered, his free hand snaking down your tummy until he had your clit pinched between his fingers.

you shrieked, white, hot pleasure blinding your vision. rafe knew your body like the back of his hand. he knew what would have you yelping in pain, and what would make you all soft and warm like putty in his hands. “riding daddy makes you so fucking wet,” your hips stuttered when rafe starting rubbing hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the lewdness of his words, “just letting me use you like the cock slut you are, right?”

“y-yes!” you whimpered, sighing in relief when he let your hair go. “make yourself cum, ‘pretty girl, let me feel you.” rafe watched as you leaned forward, your back arching deliciously as you bounced on his length. your ass met rafe’s thighs in rhythmic claps, the sound making both of you moan. “turn around, precious, ‘needa see that pretty face.” you slid off of him for a moment, finally swinging a leg over his lap before sinking back down on his cock.

pushing his face into your chest, you whined when you felt him take one of your tits in his mouth, his tongue circling around the sensitive bud. he licked and sucked as you worked to make both of you cum. you relished in these moments when you two were panting into each other’s mouths, skin hot and burning with fiery need and desire, never wanting it to end. rafe’s abs constricted as he inched closer and closer to his climax, your thighs aching for a break.

“don’t fucking stop..” rafe dug his fingers in the flesh of your hips, “oh, my god, don’t stop!” he repeated, your eyes brimming with tears as your clit slapped against his pubic bone. as soon as you doubled over, your head falling against his shoulder, rafe knew the band in your tummy finally snapped, his own orgasm hitting him at the same time. embracing you tightly, rafe thrusted up from below you so you could just cum without keeping up your pace.

you shook against him, tears rolling down your cheek and onto his collarbone as you reveled in each wave of pure bliss. rafe’s mouth stayed open, his eyes screwing shut as you milked him for all that he had. eventually, you two came to a stop, your breaths being the only sound in the room. if rafe felt tired before, he was even more drained now.. literally. nothing beat his pretty thing of a girlfriend taking his load at the end of the night.

[simplyseveredslut]

Could u do virgin Clark x virgin reader? Thank you!

for the first time

summary: Clark’s nervous about telling you it’s his first time, but little does he know it’s also yours

a/n: lowkey the window pic has nothing to do with the fic I was STRUGGLING to find images that made sense. also my titles for my works are trash im sorry 💔 anyways I loved this request and hope it’s what you had in mind!

warnings: p in v sex, baseline smut

—————————————————————————

It’s an innocent set that he almost feels guilty for finding so devastatingly sexy - polka dotted cotton fabric lined with intricate lace at the hems. The way they cling perfectly to your form like they were made for you, he’s convinced you were made for him. Like god moulded an angel and set her in front of him.

“You’re staring, clark,” you nervously chuckle, a soft one that barely makes any noise at all. You cross your arms over your chest, increasingly aware that he can see you, all of you. when he doesn’t speak, sitting on the edge of the bed just looking at you, you squeak out a regretful “I can go chan-“, the sentence doesn’t fully leave your mouth when clark, Almost on instinct like a reflex he’s born with, reaches out to grab your wrist, releasing your grip around your front and pulling you towards him.

“Nonono,” he pulls you onto his lap, legs straddling his sides. Jesus, he’s so fucking nervous.

“You’re just,” he runs his fingers softly down your stomach, as if tracing a vein pattern only he can see. He does it with the most delicate touch, like he’s handling a famous art piece he’s scared of damaging. “You’re so beautiful.”

suddenly breaking the confident pattern that seemed so natural for him, he retracts his hands from your skin and he swallows like he’s thinking. it makes your stomach hurt.

“what’s wrong?” you furrow your brow, leaning away from him. “we don’t have to-“

“no, fuck- no,” he breathes, pulling you back toward him. “i want to, i want to so much, I just,” he stops, his face crinkling, “I’ve never done this before.” he’s humiliated - you’re so pretty, so perfect - there’s no reason you shouldn’t get up to leave now. but when you softly smile, placing both hands on his cheeks and mutter, “me neither,” time stops.

“I’ve never really wanted to, I was never sure about anyone enough to give that much of myself to someone,” you explain, running your fingers down the sides of his cheeks where his stubble is beginning to poke through. “but with you, Clark I’m so sure.”

he’s going to explode. he’s almost sure of it. to know how comfortable you are with him, to know how much you trust and love him, he falls even deeper in love with you - which he didn’t even think was possible. “I’ve never been so sure of anything.” you repeat.

“I love you so much,” he breathes, stroking your cheek.

there’s a beat, and then you beat him to the words.

“it’s okay, clark. you can touch me,” you assure him, stroking his cheek in return with your thumb.

—————————————————————————

“so big, clark,” you gasp, convinced his cock is pressing all the way in to your stomach. “so deep.”

“yeah? feels good?” he searches your face for approval, receiving it when you tip your head back as he slightly shifts, girth pushing against your walls.

“mhm, feels so good,” you breathe. “move, please. need it, need it so bad.” you plead, and he is more than happy to oblige. he starts slow, almost hesitant, you feel it in his slow movements.

“faster, clarkie. y’aren’t gonna break me. promise. i can take it.”

afraid he’ll cum just hearing your voice, asking so nicely for him, he quickens his pace. his length sliding in and out of your entrance, met with slight resistance each time. you’re so tight, it makes his jaw fall slack at the pressure when he enters and your pussy clenches around him. the sound of him slamming into you becomes a more frequent hurried tempo - his balls slapping against you in harmony with the squelching of your folds.

“can’t hold on much longer, sweetheart,” he pants, not breaking his stride. his head is craned down to the crook of your neck, breath tickling your skin. “can- can i” he doesn’t know how to say it. his brain is so fuzzy, judgement so clouded, that the only thing running through his brain is youyouyou.

“yes, please, yes- I’m ready,” you cry, digging your nails into his shoulder muscles. in one last thrust he’s whimpering - cum filling you to the brim. he goes limp, collapsing on top of you. You both instinctively wrap your arms around one another, as if scared the other will disappear. you both let out shaky, labored breaths as you come down from your high, together, in each others arms.

“i love you, love you so much,” he breathes, smushing a kiss to your temple. “thank you for letting me have you like this, all of you.”

[dance-is-life27]

Satisfaction

Fratboy!Joaquin Torres x Reader

Summary: After spending the night before with Joaquin Torres your mind drifts during the middle of a party. It's just your luck that Joaquin catches you in the act.

Warnings: 18+, smut, very little plot, Joaquin is probably ooc (sorry the concept was really hot and I couldn't get it out of my brain), thigh riding, public sex, previous penetration, wet daydreams?, Joaquin being fully aware of how hot he is and being a whore about it, Female Reader

A/n: Shout out to @fanboyswhore9 for beta reading and hyping me up, I need more experienced smut writers who understand Joaquin better than me to get hopping on the fratboy!Joaquin train 🙏🏾🙏🏾

Reblogs are more appreciated than likes!

“That’s it, there you go, baby.” You whine as Joaquin’s voice resounds in your ear. He hums against your shoulder as you bounce on his cock faster, his grip on your waist presses him closer to you and the gap between your back and his chest diminishes. The aching of your knees goes unnoticed as your bed creaks below you and the pleasure builds within you. 

You moan, “Jay!” The nickname falls from your lips as your head begins to spin. You can feel yourself getting closer with each thrust that he gives you.

“Fuck,” Joaquin curses, a groan leaving his mouth when you clench down on him, “You gonna cum for me, cariño?” You can’t help but nod in response, the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin increases. You feel like you're about to explode when Joaquin reaches a hand down to rub at your clit and the pleasure just keeps building. 

You’re jolted back to reality when your friend calls your name. The rest of the party resumes instantaneously as you’re taken out of your daydream. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” You ask, feeling sheepish as your thighs clench together. 

Your friend rolls their eyes, “Oh, forget it. Where did your mind go?” They ask instead and you clear your throat before you force yourself to shrug. 

“Oh, y’know,” You trail off, hoping that it'll be the end of the conversation but in doing so your eyes inadvertently drift towards the man responsible for your current predicament. 

Joaquin Torres sits there, leaning back into his seat as he takes a long sip of whatever concoction he’s got inside his cup. His smirk hides behind his cup as he stares at you, his eyes filled with a knowing look that sends a shiver down your spine. As if his brown eyes can pierce through your body and see straight into your brain as the memories of last night resurface involuntarily. 

You manage to break eye contact first, a wave of heat rushing through you as you stand, “I’m gonna get something to drink.” You tell your friend who by now has stopped paying attention to you entirely. 

The buzz of the party fills your ears as you walk by people talking and laughing, the music adding a lively undercurrent to an already lively party. Making your way through a crowded home you finally find yourself in the kitchen. It's not empty by any means but compared to the rest of the party at least in here you have the room to stretch and breathe a little. You grab a cold bottle of water and take solace in the relative quiet for a minute, of course that solace gets interrupted pretty quickly when Joaquin walks in. He readjusts the backwards cap on his head when he spots you and makes a beeline to where you’re leaning against a counter. 

“So this is where you’ve wandered off to,” Joaquin grins as he places his cup on the counter behind you, “We’re starting to miss you out there.” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Oh please, I’m sure you’re fine.” 

Joaquin places a hand over his heart in mock hurt, “Ouch, there’s that bite. Where has she been all night? Hmm?” 

You turn your head instead of answering, letting the background noise of the party fill the space between you two. Ignoring Joaquin used to always be the number one way to get him to leave you alone but then again that was before you let him into your bed and allowed yourself to indulge in the one thing you promised to steer clear from. 

“You, uh, didn’t answer the question from earlier.” Joaquin points out as he shifts to lean against the counter next to you so that the both of you are standing shoulder to shoulder. The gap in the space between you both feels both far too close and a million miles apart. “What was on your mind?” 

Your jaw clenches involuntarily before you take a swig of your water, the coolness gives you a refreshing moment before you answer, “Why do you care?” 

Out of the corner of your eye you see Joaquin shrug, “I’m curious.” 

“Curiosity killed the cat.” You reply simply, feeling hyper aware of Joaquin as he stares into the side of your face, the intensity of his gaze rattling something in your bones and it’s not even direct eye contact. You’re afraid of what might happen if you do turn your head to look at him.

“And we both know,” Joaquin leans into you, getting as close as he can to whisper in your ear even though you know that it’s not necessary, “that satisfaction brought it back.” 

His voice leaves goosebumps against your skin as his close proximity to you reminds you of the last time he was this close. His affect on you is frankly as annoying as his flirting. 

“Once again, why do you care?”

“Because I know what someone looks like when they're thinking about my cock,” the vulgarity of his words shocks you more than they should and you find yourself turning your head to look at him, “and I'd be happy to help if you want me to.” 

You find yourself spluttering as Joaquin smirks at you, “There are plenty of other women here who will help you get your dick wet, why are you bothering me?” 

“I don't want them.” His answer is infuriatingly simple, it shouldn't have the effect on you that it does. It shouldn’t make you flush at the thought of Joaquin Torres being yours and only yours, and yet. You find yourself squirming as Joaquin shifts to box you in against the counter, “C'mon, let me give you what you want tonight. Promise I'll make it worth your while.” 

You weigh your options underneath the intensity of Joaquin’s gaze, your thighs clenching together once again as you feel like you're suffocating being this close in his orbit. 

It doesn’t take much longer for you to make your decision and you find yourself wading through a sea of people with Joaquin in tow towards the nearest bathroom. 

“You can’t seriously be about to fuck me in here, are you?” You question as soon as the door is shut and locked. 

Joaquin laughs before he crowds you against the sink counter, “You’d let me, wouldn’t you?” His brown eyes shine in mischievous delight as he stares at you, “No, no, this is just to hold the both of us over until the drive back to mine.” 

“Joaquin-” You start but your sentence and your train of thought gets interrupted when Joaquin slots one of his thighs in between yours. A gasp escapes your lips, your head tilting backwards automatically against the pressure Joaquin puts on your clit. 

He hums as he leans in to leave kisses down your jawline, each kiss sets your nerves alight as you start to rock against his thigh. A shudder wracks through you as you fight a moan from escaping your lips too soon. 

“God, look at you.” Joaquin whispers as he pulls back, “C’mon, I wanna watch you fall apart on my thigh.” You grind down harder as you cling to Joaquin’s jacket, bundling it up in your hands using it as some way to ground you to this plane of existence as the pleasure shoots up from your core. Joaquin kisses you then, his hands coming up to cradle the sides of your face. It’s so easy to get lost in the feel of Joaquin Torres that you’re not even consciously aware of the fact that you started moving faster as his kiss leaves you breathless. 

“There you fucking go, baby.” The timbre of Joaquin’s voice sends a shiver down your spine and now you can’t help the moan that leaves your mouth. “That’s it.” 

The counter digs into your lower back as your hips buck up repeatedly, you’re only aware of the pain because you can feel the cabinets shake every time you move. You moan when Joaquin slides a teasing hand down your back and puts a barrier between you and the counter. His palm presses against you in a way that makes you ache for more of his touch. 

“Gonna-, Joaquin!” You whine as you pull him closer to you, pressing your face into his chest, the scent of his cologne nearly overwhelms you as the tension within you threatens to snap. He smells like the earth, as rich and solid as the ground beneath you. It leaves you aching as just the scent of Joaquin threatens to consume you entirely. 

Joaquin presses a gentle kiss to your temple, it's far sweeter than anything the both of you have ever done together so far. You find your hips slowing at the sudden tenderness and Joaquin’s brown, near black now, eyes find yours in an instant. 

“What’s the matter, cariño?” 

“I-” You pant, trying to will your mind to speak proper words, “Don’t wanna cum yet.” The reply falls from your lips as your hands shift to clutch at Joaquin’s waist. 

Joaquin gives you that smirk that you’ve become far too familiar with within the past 24 hours, his hand on your hip urges you to restart your pace, “The sooner you cum on my thigh, the sooner we can get out of here so I can fuck you properly.” 

The moan you let out makes you grateful that the party still rages on outside the door, leaving the rest of the attendees blissfully unaware of what’s going on. The bucking of your hips causes friction so pleasurable that it leaves you near delirious as you get closer to orgasm. “I’m gonna-” The words fall from your lips but you can’t bring yourself to complete the sentence as everything feels like it’s too much. 

“I know, come for me.” Joaquin demands, his words so simple and yet they work because you find yourself coming not a moment later. You bury your face into Joaquin to try and muffle the sounds spilling from your throat as you cling to him through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“You okay?” Joaquin asks you as your high slows and your breathing evens out. 

You nod as Joaquin steps back but his hands don’t leave your body while you try to recenter yourself. His touch is gentle and comforting despite what the both of you just did. 

“I’m ready to leave now.” You speak as Joaquin takes a look over you before he nods. 

He fixes his pants as he removes himself from you entirely, “Okay, let’s go.” 

[paintedonmyteeth]

Making out with Mr Scarletella hcs? Please please please with a cherry on top 😔❤️

Making Out w/ Mr Scarletella

HELL YEAH, I gotchu 😤😤😤 Here you go Mr. Delulu HCs for you — my ass busted this out so quick I had to throw on In My Room from ICP for this as extra motivation HAHAGNEJBFJS, I also just did this off of Mr. Scarletella’s crimson rain ending cause yes

⭑.ᐟ — Ever since Mr. Scarletella became your personal pet umbrella servant of yours, this man’s delusional behaviour towards you has gone fucking skyward.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Scarletella ofc is forever loyal to you and he’ll do anything, I mean anything to please you. Legit he will kill somebody w/o hesitation if you ask him to. He just loves that much it’s borderline mentally insane.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Scarletella’s even more ecstatic at the fact he can now be close and be forever at your side. But with this dream come true also comes with some unfortunate news; and that’s his jealousy towards Mr. Crawling.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Scarletella’s also wanting some attention ofc, he doesn’t like that Mr. Crawling gets all the kisses and head pats, give him some love too >:((

⭑.ᐟ — “Give pat?”, was the first question you heard as you were wandering the halls with Mr. Scarletella trailing after you. Mr. Scarletella just had this look of desperation— or like, this pathetic sad look of a puppy that was wanting some attention. Well, Mr. Scarletella’s been well behaved so where’s the harm in obliging his request?

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Scarletella was over the moon when you said yes but his mind didn’t register your grip suddenly clenching his umbrella and he suddenly just felt a wave of heat course through his bones just now. The ghost was just at a loss of words and looking flushed red until you grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him in — and the touch of your soft lips against his made his brain explode.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Scarletella was absolutely fucking red, red like his goddamn hair and trench coat, his breathing was suddenly picking up, and lord if he had a pulse it would’ve been going absolutely haywire right now. He returned the kiss and his arms gingerly went around your waist to pull you close to him.

⭑.ᐟ — The kiss was passionate until it went from 0 to 100 fast when you suddenly added in the tongue, and Mr. Scarletella was NOT ready for this at all. The kiss was messy with your tongues entangled and dancing, the taste of you was driving him absolutely insane, he was just squeezing you tightly in his hold and he never wanted it to end.

⭑.ᐟ — By the time you broke away from the kiss, Mr. Scarletella was panting heavily, flushed red, his pupils were blown wide and he had this dopey lop-sided smile broadening on his features. Yeah, he reallyyyy loved that.

⭑.ᐟ — Now speechless, Mr. Scarletella disappears to go off in hiding in the umbrella to clear his head after that kiss, because it clearly fucked him up — in a good way ofc. He’s gonna need a couple few business days until he’s somewhat 'normal' again, and he’s definitely going to be asking for more of those kisses the next time.

[synthetickitsune]

Joshua (SVT) | Endurance smut | 0.9k | gn!reader

“Is that really all you can take?” Joshua smirks at you. Like he’s not barely holding himself up. His own skin is sweaty and his body on fire and he can’t hide it. Yet he acts like he’s not violently shivering when you drag your nails down his spine.

“Shut up,” you groan. You don’t know what to do with your hands, half holding him still, half urging him to move again.

“No shame in asking to stop,” he says in a voice that clearly states otherwise. Yet another contradiction: his hands stroke your thighs so gently you almost consider asking for a break just to get some of his loving cuddles.

You love when he gets like this. Always checking up on you, never too proud to tend to your needs first when you need him. His hands are warm. His chest would be warmer if he pulled you into a hug. The kind of heat you crave despite feeling almost feverish.

“Love?” his voice softens when he brings your attention back to him. One of his hands cups your face.

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, leaning into his palm. 

“‘Fine’ isn’t enthusiastic enough for me,” he teases. When you frown at him with a slight pout on your lips, he just chuckles. Before you can realize what he’s doing, he throws your legs over his shoulders.

His hips press deeper into your heat and you whine, head falling back into the pillows. His composure falters. You feel some of his cum leak out of you. 

“Shua,” you grumble, “It’s cold and disgusting.”

He has the nerve to laugh and fold you in half just to kiss your nose and get some of the wet wipes from the night table. You almost bite a hole into your lip trying to hold in the moan that’s threatening to rip from your throat as he sheats himself inside you fully. At least he cleans off all the mess he made despite how pointless it is. He’s about to make more anyway.

“You know,” he starts and you immediately don’t like his tone, “If you’re too tired we can just cuddle like this. We’d lie down and you’d be warming my cock for me.”

His thrusts are slow, shallow. Driving you crazy while also comforting you. He kisses the side of your ankle. Only needing one hand to hold you in the precise position he wants, he finds your hand with the other one. Slowly grinding his cock into you. Close, always close, always loving. His eyes meet yours and you see it. The adoration, despite all his teasing. 

“After this one?” you manage to breathe out, thumb stroking the side of his hand.

He nods and squeezes your hand, presses another kiss to your skin. He spreads his legs more to get a better angle. You grip his hand like it’s your lifeline.

“Can’t wait to hold you close when you take me,” he groans. The sudden harsh thrust sends sparks down your spine and makes them explode like fireworks behind your closed eyelids. His fingers squeeze yours, grounding you in the moment while he focuses on your pleasure.

“Want me to wrap my arms around you when you make love to me?” you tease breathlessly, “My arms and my legs?”

His hips stutter, his breathing too. 

“Baby stop,” he whimpers, “Or we’ll be up all night.”

You turn to look at the clock and scoff. It’s too late to worry about that. You could probably track how many hours you’ve spent intertwined like this by recollecting all the times he made you cum, how, where, in which position. But every brush of his dick against that delicious spot inside you makes your mind blank out. And you’re too tired to think about anything but how much you desire him.

“Want me to-” you get interrupted by a moan. It takes you a moment to recollect what you were saying. “Want me to whisper in your ear? Tell you how much I love you, how handsome you are, how good you feel.”

“Yeah - yeah, need that,” his voice breaks as he covers your body with his again, forcing you into the uncomfortable folded position to kiss you as much as he can during the few seconds he’s willing to be selfish for. His thrusts get quicker, harder. He clings to your hand like he needs it to believe you’re real. “Love you. So much. So perfect for me.”

“Cum, baby,” you plead. You open your eyes with much effort, feel the moisture in them as your gazes meet. “Need you close.”

It doesn’t take much for him to fulfill your wish. You feel him twitch and tremble. More of his release leaks out.

With great reluctance he lets go of your hand to massage your hips while he readjusts your legs to rest around his waist so that he can collapse on your chest.

You feel yourself clenching around him, still seeking more pleasure, begging him to keep going. He’s still shaking, hands fisted in the sheets.

You run your fingers through his hair and tug gently. He follows your hand until he’s lying where your lips can reach his forehead. His smile is unstable but grateful.

“No shame in asking to stop,” you remind him quietly. He whines, nuzzling closer to your skin.

“No way,” he tries to sound cocky but it’s just too soft and breathy, “Your body is still begging for me. I feel it.”

His lips attach to your neck. He whimpers as your body reacts and clenches around him. You know he won’t be finished with you until he makes sure you can’t give him a single climax more.

[ruinix]

Can I please have Luke begging to eat you out?

Hello, lovely. I truly hope you're still there. I fear people that beg is my downfall. I am so WEAK for them. Anyway...hope you'll enjoy this. 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Burning Craving

18+. Whore thoughts. Oral sex (f receiving). Slight overstimulation.

Luke would be shifting in the bed, his ears straining to hear you over the running shower, his boxers feeling so restraining over his extremely hard cock that had been leaking and dripping with pre-cum. He was so fucking horny right now. He didn't know why but he was. Most especially, he needed something. Specifically, he needed the taste of your pussy on his tongue.

The sudden craving was making him lose his mind. His skin felt hot and tight around his body. His head spun. His mouth felt dry with even after drank his whole water bottle, because he wasn't thirsty for water. No. He was thirsty for you, your arousal, and your cum. It didn't matter if he already ate you out this morning. He just needed to taste you—

"Ohh, that was a great shower," you announced as you exited the bathroom that had a slight steam coming out of it.

That meant you had one of those scalding showers, making the hairs on his nape stand. Those actually threatened to burn his skin. Thank goodness he didn't join you even when he was so horny.

Luke stared at you, at how your nightgown fell loosely around your thighs, at how you softly patted your hair which made your tits move with the motions, at how your nipples peaked, hypnotizing him, making him even more painfully turned on. He was basically fucking panting as you sat on your vanity, putting lotion on your arms, your shoulders, your thighs, your shin, your feet. Luke sat up, his chest squeezing when you started dusting powder on your skin. He could smell vanilla. So creamy, so incredibly tantalizing right now.

"Sweetheart," he voiced out, almost jumping when you turned towards him, your attention searing heat down his cock. Subtly, he pushes up one knee, trying to hide his hard-on. "Umm..."

"Yes, Lukey?" You came closer, putting your towel on the vanity, taking a smaller one so you could still pat your hair dry.

"Do you really need to wake up early?" He asked, gasping when you crawled towards him. His eyes fell to your neckline. He cursed as you settled next to him, kissing his cheek, making him fucking explode inwardly. His mouth felt so dry.

"No." You shook your head, frowning. "Something wrong? You're so red right now." Your hand came up to his forehead. "You don't—"

"I need you," he helplessly said. He softly guided your hand under the sheets, to his crotch, letting you feel the mess he had made. "Please. I know you said you wanted to sleep after your shower, but I need you."

He knew you understood him. This wasn't the first time he had come onto you because he was so driven by his desires. There was only one time you had rejected his pleas—you had work the next day—so he hoped this was not another of that. He would step back if you did, but he hoped you didn't.

But then, you grinned at him, your hand wrapping around his aching length. "Oh? What exactly do you need?"

Luke's tongue failed him. His brain stuttered as your hand jerked up and down. The friction of his boxers mixed by your movements had put a damper in his thoughts. Just a few more strokes he would come. Just a few—

He groaned, almost whining, because you stopped. You fucking stopped. How could you be so cruel? The spark in your eyes made him realize that you knew he didn't want you to jerk him off. You knew he needed more.

As he made his way between your legs, as he gripped your thighs apart, as he pushes the hem of your nightgown up using his thumbs, he repeated, "I need you."

You bit your lip, pulling up your dress, exposing your lace panties that has a growing wet patch. "Beg."

A harsh shiver ran down his spine. He leaned forward, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, his lips trembling as his desperation heightened for every contact. You were so soft, so sweet, so pretty.

"Please, sweetheart. I need you on my tongue. Need to taste you. Just one taste. Please, please, please. I'm so thirsty. I need to make you come on my tongue. I need your cum. My sweet, please," Luke begged. His words twisted again, slurring together as he was already getting drunk at the mere scent of your lotion on your skin, at the slightest whiff of your pussy. He dared to hover closer on your cunt, softly blowing right over your clit, making you whine, but he still continued. "Please," he said over and over and over again.

"Okay, just one taste," you finally said.

So, he feasted, licking over the wet lace, from your entrance to your clit, moaning at the taste of your pussy. The exact flavor he was craving for what felt like eternity. It was you. All you. He licked again, swallowing, inhaling your scent, grinning at your cries.

Then he finally casted your panties to the side, he licked again, whimpering at your concentrated taste as you dripped on his tongue, giving him so much when he barely started. Your wet cunt pulsed for every pass of his tongue, begging him to fill you up. So, he did. He dipped his tongue into your pussy, groaning at your squeeze, moaning at your arousal flooding him. This. This was what he needed. What he waited for. So, he let himself lose.

He surrendered his control, letting his lust drive him, as he swallowed and licked and kissed your pussy. His hips grinded down against the bed, making a mess of his own while he licked up yours.

He could do this for hours. Fucking you with his tongue. Pulling out when he felt the familiar pulses of your pussy. Grinding his nose on your clit. Panting his moans and groans against your pussy. He couldn't have enough of you. He needed more and more.

He didn't care about how hard you tugged at his hair or how your thighs wrapped around his head like you wanted to suffocate him. He could die between your thighs, and he would be ecstatic. He would die feasting on your pussy. It would be a great death, because he would be taking your flavor to the afterlife. Such grotesque thoughts didn't bother him as he continued teasing your pussy then he finally let you come with his fingers fucking you as he sucked and licked your clit.

Luke went after your cum, sliding his tongue deeply with his fingers riding out your orgasm. He swallowed like man starved because he was. Only when your foot pushed against his shoulder did he parted from your pussy. Yet his fingers kept fucking you, doing a come-hither motion that had you screaming. You came again and again, your back arching off the bed, so damn lost in your ecstasy.

"I need more," he said as soon as you came down, writhing as he continued with his fingers. "Please, let me."

"Oh, fuck!" You cursed as he dove in, eating you out with more fervor. "Luke!"

Your thighs shook, your hips thrusting up so harshly and sharply, your body shaking as he pushed down on your lower abdomen as he pressed on the spongy spot that had your cunt squeezing his fingers, that had you whimpering, that had your toes curling. When you came again, he was also coming inside his boxers, coating himself with his own hot cum.

"Luke, give me a break, please," you started to beg, so he pulled back. "One second."

"One second," he echoed, licking his lips, groaning at your arousal on his face.

He watched you nod and pant as you tried to calm down with your legs quivering, your pussy hole clenching on nothing. That pained Luke. He could fill you up. He needed to, so he softly plunged two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, looking down at him.

"Wait," you gasped.

"I am," he assured.

You nodded, closing your eyes, shuddering. Luke waited until you gave him your go signal again, until his cock hardened with every sound coming out of your lips and your pussy as he took his time with you, until he had you coming all over his face again.

Good night!! 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

Lovelies: @dancerbailey3 @loser-pretty-girl @r0wdymaize86 @tiredallthetimex

-> more thoughts? List. Want to be notified? Join my taglist!

[shidoglazer]

pet play w rin ??? thank you!

down, puppy!

rin itoshi smut mdni pet play a bit of softdom!rin

＠shidoglazer

it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

it was just a joke! you two were just playing card games, and it was a promise that if he won, you’d be his pet for a whole day. but it was really just a joke! but before you knew it, he had you stripped down and collared like an actual pet. you act like you’re dreading it, you act like you hate him being so mean to you as if you were actually a dog! but really,

“if you hate it so much, then just tap on my head like i told you to if its too much. no?” rin says in a condescending tone before tugging on the leash he’s wrapped around your neck, and you find yourself unable to respond. not because he was right, but because he had a ball gag shoved into your mouth too, your drool was already leaking onto your basically bare tits, some of the drool sliding slowly to the fabric of your bra.

you were kneeling in front of him, head tilted up, eyes filled with tears and chin with drool— letting out a barely audible whine from how muffled your voice was. and what a sick fuck, he looked so content and entertained by this. your own boyfriend!

“y’re so cute.” he scratches your head before starting to unbuckle the ball gag around your head, placing it aside as you take a well-needed breath, “y-you stupid.. stupid stupid bitch..”

“yeah? i’m hurt.” he says with mock annoyance, “tell me tho, what do you want from me baby? i think i’ve had my fun dressing you up like this.” you know exactly what you want. you want to be pounded mindless til you’re a sobbing mess while you lay there limp. but obviously you won’t say that. “…i don’t know,”

rin cocks an eyebrow, his feet reaching over to the slit in your panties before feeling the wetness from your arousal, grazing over your clit a few times to which you take in a sharp breath as your hands gripped onto nothing. “it seems like you do know from how wet you are. what ideas are you having hm? don’t be shy, puppy. just tell me.”

you were about to explode, your eyes looking at every direction except for his out of embarrassment. “i.. don’t know..” you muster up the courage to lie again, but rin isn’t stupid, he knows exactly what will get you to spit the truth out. “you don’t know? i’ll decide then. kay?” you nod enthusiastically, at least you don’t have to go through the shame of saying what you want- “lets go out for a walk. like this.” obviously he wasn’t serious, but considering how dazed and hazy your mind was .. it’d be easy to say the sky is green and you’d believe so.

your eyes widened in horror, you tried to oppose but he’s already stood up and tugging on your leash, urging you to crawl towards him, “no! nonono! rin! i’ll tell you i’ll tell you, please!” and he stops in his tracks and crouches down to you, looking as if his plan went perfectly through. “entertain me.”

“want,” you gulped down your sense of shame, twiddling with the collar attached to your neck “wanna, have fun with you, in bed,” someone thats born to a dom would tell you to speak properly despite knowing what you meant, but rin is a whole different story. he’s basically has a butterfly enclosure in his stomach as he looks at your adorable face filled with blush and shame. “yyeah? i’ll give you what you want. cmon.”

without another word, he’s picked you up princess style and heads over to the bedroom. you’re in for a long night . . .

^ whatever the fuck this position is called i cant find it

rin has you pinned down onto the bed, leash tied to the headboard of the bed as your hands are gripping onto the sheets for dear life, a fluffy tail connected to a buttplug deep into your puckered hole while his dick hits into your cervix each time with brute force, you’re a slobbering mess, begging for him to slow down yet continuing to beg for more.

the continuous “plap! plap! plap!” along with your moans that synced with his thrusts filled the room, yet you couldn’t feel any sense of shame, your mind was filled with mindless pleasure

“ffuck, such a good girl, aren’t you? mh, making your boyfriend feel s’good, how’d you learn to clench that pussy so tight? y’ve been fucking wiith other people? huh?” rin was no less of a blabbering mess, letting out whatever came to his mind. you shook your head desperately when you felt him getting rougher and rougher, sobbing and moaning as you tried to respond,

“nno! no! only you! hic,, no, please.. learned- jus for you!” you shrieked out when forcefully ripped the leash off of your neck with his bare hands out of shock, his hand tugging onto your hair to forcefully move your head to face his, pressing a deep kiss onto your lips. it wasn’t tender or a gentle, but a reminder. a reminder that you were his, and he was yours.

as he pulled away, he continued the assault on your poor, swollen hole, becoming progressively more and more aggressive that it eventually marked your ass red. you couldn’t do anything except lay there limp like a good puppy would do.

“fuck.. shits pissing me off.” he groaned out, pulling out briefly to take hold on the makeshift tail you had in, tugging it out in a swift motion, “ah! hurts! hurtshurthurts!” your body shot up, crying out. rin tossed the buttplug to a corner before laying his body weight back onto you, pressing gentle kisses on your temple. “i’m sorry. let’s cover up that pain, mhm?” and without a response, he’s back into your velvet walls thrusting just as hard as before.

“feels so much better. doesn’t it?” he takes hold onto your nape, gripping it as leverage while he fucks into you “hnghh, dunno, dunno.. rinnie, pleaseee..” “answer properly.” he responded with a demanding tone, your body was basically begging to be let go of this torture, yet your mind was completely cockdrunk and begging for more.

“m’sorry.. feels s’good, wan cum.. cum,, cumm!!..” you felt your orgasm approaching, clit throbbing as it rubs against the mattress. “rinnie..” you called out to your boyfriend almost pitifully, turning your head to look at him with your dewy eyes.

“yeah, pup?” “kiss.. kiss while cum.. please, m’soclose! soclosesoclose—” you didn’t have to ask twice for rin to immediately crash down onto your lips, both of you just as equally aggressive with it.

both of your orgasms hit you both like a ton of bricks, you were moaning and whining into rins mouth as you felt electricity volt through your body. rin groaned out, giving a few more thrusts before filling your walls with his cum, marking you as his completely. as you both pulled away from the kiss, rin went limp on your body, causing you to cough, “too heavy! get off!” you kicked your legs angrily

rin let out a small hum of acknowledgment before lifting himself up and pulling out of you, letting a bucketload of cum leak out of your hole, staining the bedsheets under you. he hummed while admiring the masterpiece, his masterpiece.

though, he didn’t waste much time before scooping you into his arms and pressing soft kisses on your face, a complete contrast of how he was when he was fucking into you so ravenously. “are you okay? did i go too rough? did i do anything wrong? i’m sorry if-” you cut him off with a kiss, burying your face in his shoulder, arms wrapping around him. “it felt good. so shush.” “..mm.” he propped your thighs around his waist before picking you up and heading to the bathroom where you both laid in the tub for almost 3 hours while napping together.

masterlist

a/n this req has been ROTTING in my inbox im literally so sorry.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

how does toxicfwb chris put toxicfwb reader in her place (i need to be put down right now)

cw: established safeword, slapping, choking, face fucking, spanking, fuuuucking

“get the fuck away from me,” you grumble, shoving chris away from you aggressively from where you stood, head peering around your tv in your bedroom as you tried to figure out why the fuck it wasn’t working properly.

“i’m trying to fucking help you,” chris snaps, tone irritated, which in turn makes you more irritated as well. “well you mouth breathing down my neck isn’t fucking helping me, it’s just pissing me off,” you spit back at him, turning to glare at him.

“okay,” he laughs bitterly, nodding his head. “so you’re just in the mood to be a bitch right now, then?” your heart rate picks up at his comment and you have to squeeze your eyes shut for a moment to not feel like you were going to explode. “christopher,” you start slowly, peeling your eyes open to look at him again, gaze landing on his sudden cringe from you using his full name. “back up and leave me alone before i smack the fuck out of you.”

his eyes widen, but not in a way that shows fear, more of an amused expression taking over his features. he’d love to see you pull some shit like that. “you need to calm down,” he warns and this sets you off, sending you charging towards him with a hand wound up behind you and ready to strike him wherever you could reach.

as your hand flies down, he reaches up to grab your wrist and it all happens so quickly, the way he spins you around and pins your arm behind your back, walking you a few steps until your chest was pressed against the wall, his body flush against yours. “drop the attitude,” he demands, his voice sending tingles down your spine.

“i don’t have an attitude!” you argue, squirming in his grasp. it’s no use, his fingers are digging into your skin roughly and his body has you pinned, there’s no way you’re getting away from him. “just because you’re pissing me off and i don’t want to be around you doesn’t mean i have an attitude.”

“sounds like an attitude to me,” chris retorts, tightening his grip on you, making you whine. “you don’t get to be a little baby just because you’re mad.” he’s right and you know he is, but you’d never admit that, plus he was pissing you off just by being so close. you were fully confident you could fix the issue yourself.

“i’m not being a fucking baby, chris, let go of me!” you wiggle even harder, knowing his grip on you was going to leave bruises. you could feel the interaction slipping into something filthier, his chest pressed against your back making your mind fuzzy, jaw dropping open as his free hand that wasn’t holding your wrist in place slid to rest on your waist exposed by the crop top you wore.

“say you’re sorry,” chris mumbles into your ear, lips close to your skin, his smirk prominent in his voice. “i’m not sorry, i didn’t do anything,” you say in a huffy tone.

“say you’re fucking sorry,” he demands again, more aggressive this time as his hand slips into the front of the waistband of your sweatpants. you gasp at the feeling of his fingers dancing over the fabric of your panties, not having been touched by him today despite already being together for a few hours. you were beyond needy for him but you didn’t want him to know now that you were trying to be tough. “‘m not sorry,” you mutter, cheek pressed against the cold wall, eyes looking everywhere but back at him.

the hand wrapped around your wrist finally lets go, but only long enough for him to slide it up and to the front of your throat, long fingers wrapping around until he could squeeze, drawing a strained gasp from your mouth. “say it again. tell me you’re not sorry,” he rasps into your ear, lips barely brushing against your skin.

you shift on your feet, a soft whimper leaving your lips, already overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. “i didn’t do anything wrong,” you choke out, standing firm in your defense.

chris’s hand slips further into your pants, his middle fingers pressing against your clit on top of your panties, making you weak in the knees as you finally felt some sort of stimulation. “fuck, please,” you groan out, eyes fluttering shut and hips twitching against his hand.

“please, what?” he mocks, pulling your head off the wall and towards him, forcing an arch in your back. “touch me,” you respond desperately. “please touch me, i need it.”

chris laughs, actually laughs at you as he presses firmer through the fabric. “say you’re sorry and i’ll touch you,” he bargains.

you whine, wiggling more in his grip to try and escape, causing chris to snap, no longer being patient with you. he backs away, keeping his hand firm on your throat as he pulls you with him, manhandling you until you were on your knees on the floor at the end of your bed, staring up at him with wide eyes. “if you’re not going to apologize then you don’t get to speak until you do,” he tells you, leaving no room for argument as he shoves his pants and briefs down in one movement, hard cock swinging out.

you gasp at the sight and he uses this perfect opportunity to shove his length past your lips, letting out a low groan at the wet feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. “there we go, that’s it,” he mumbles, placing both of his hands on either side of your head to keep you in place as he rocks his hips forward, giving you no time to adjust. “finally fucking quiet.”

your hands come up to rest on his thighs for support, tears already starting to fill your eyes as he rams his cock down your throat, using you for his own pleasure. “look so pretty crying with my dick in your throat, don’t you?” chris teases as he stares down at you with that cocky smirk, loving the way you already looked wreck from the way he rocked his hips into you.

your saliva started to thicken as you gagged around him, sputtering out around his length and dripping down your chin as you kept your eyes on his face the best you could, nails digging into his skin harshly.

“you sorry yet?” chris asks, slowing down and letting his cock fall from your lips, laughing at the way you gasped for air when your mouth was empty. you didn’t answer, only coughed a few times as you tried to catch your breath, earning you a small but still slightly shocking slap to your cheek, followed by chris gripping your hair and tilting your head back. “i said are you sorry yet?”

you whimper quietly from the pain, but keep your eyes locked on his. “i didn’t do anything wrong,” you choke out, tears sliding down your red cheeks.

chris grumbles at your answer, using his grip on your hair to pull you up to your feet and turn you around, bending you over the mattress before sliding your sweats and underwear down, hands gripping at your now exposed ass cheeks roughly. “last chance,” he warns, voice serious.

you turn to look back at him, seeing him already staring at you expectantly. truthfully, making him mad already made you horny enough, but you loved pushing his buttons more than you’d ever care to tell him, so you wanted to see how far he’d take it and how much you could handle.

“i told you i’m not fucking sorry,” you say in the brattiest tone you can muster up and you can actually see the way chris’s eyes darken at your words. he just purses his lips and nods, letting out a small, “okay,” before drawing his hand up and striking down roughly, his handprint immediately blooming on your plush skin.

you jump forward, whimpering loudly at the contact, thinking maybe you’d have a second to recover before he lands another blow on the opposite cheek, ripping a small squeal from your lips. “ouch!” you yell at him, trying to squirm away, but he’s got you right where he wants you and there’s no escaping without giving him what he wants.

“chris, that fucking hurts,” you whine as he smacks your ass again, your cheek buried into your comforter. he hears your words, but it’s what he sees that encourages him to keep going.

your pussy is glistening, soaked folds on display from the way you were bent over in front of him, your body clearly enjoying everything he was putting you through. it took everything in him to not give in and slide into you and fuck you brainless.

“hurt enough to say you’re sorry?” he asks, pausing for a moment to lean over your body, expectantly waiting for your answer.

you crane your neck to meet his eyes, your own still glossy with tears as you shake your head slightly. “n-no,” you mumble, whimpering when he stands back up straight, bracing for impact.

this goes on until you’re full on crying against the sheets, hands gripping onto the blankets for some sort of brace as he spanked you over and over, your skin red and puffy from his hands.

“okay!” you finally cry out, stopping him in his tracks as he winds up to smack you once more, drawing his attention up to your face. “yes, baby?” he croons, leaning over you once more to press his lips against your shoulder. “gonna tell me you’re sorry now?”

you nod frantically, sniffling pathetically. “yes, i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to give you attitude or be mean, was just frustrated. please, please, touch me, fuck me, anything, i need it.” you beg, unable to focus on anything except the way your skin stung.

“you’re not just apologizing to get what you want, right?” chris asks in a fake sweet voice, his hands trailing over your hips gently, a stark contrast from the last few minutes of torture.

you shake your head quickly, pushing yourself up on one arm to look at him. “swear,” you tell him. “‘m so sorry.”

he smirks and pushes himself back up until he’s standing behind you again, angling his cock at your entrance. “wasn’t so hard, was it?” he says in a snotty voice before pushing inside and bottoming out in one go, ripping a loud, satisfied moan from your lips.

[writeriguess]

hey neema! i was going to request a fic with azriel from ACOTAR, my brain has been cooking up some ideas and i wanted to see what you do with it! i was thinking something along the lines of some kind of tension finally hits a boiling point for reader and az. they finally act on it after what feels like forever. something smutty that ends with them figuring out they’re mates aswell? thank you!

Shadows and Fate

The tension had been unbearable for what felt like years. Stolen glances, the brush of hands that lingered just a second too long, the way Azriel’s shadows curled around you protectively whenever you were near. It was a slow, torturous dance—one that neither of you dared to finish.

Until now.

The mission had been grueling, the kind that left you both adrenaline-drunk and raw. You’d barely made it back to the House of Wind in one piece, every muscle in your body screaming from exertion. But the ache that truly consumed you wasn’t physical—it was the one burning beneath your skin, the one that had been festering for months, years.

Azriel was watching you again, his golden eyes darkened to molten amber, his jaw clenched so tight you swore you heard it creak. He was pacing, still keyed up from the fight, his siphons flickering with untamed power. The tension between you crackled, electric and undeniable.

“Az,” you breathed, stepping toward him.

“Don’t,” he rasped, though he didn’t move away. His wings flared slightly, as if his own body betrayed him, reaching for something it had been starving for.

But you were done pretending.

You surged forward, crashing into him with all the force of a battlefield. Azriel caught you instantly, his hands gripping your waist so tightly it bordered on bruising. And then his lips were on yours, all sharp desperation and unrelenting hunger. He kissed like a man starving, like he’d been waiting for this moment for so long it might shatter him.

Your back hit the wall before you even realized he’d moved, his body caging you in, shadows licking over your skin like they had a mind of their own. You gasped against his lips, and he seized the opportunity, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, deep and claiming. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your hips, your thighs—gripping, kneading, pulling you closer until not even air remained between you.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he growled against your neck, his breath hot, his teeth grazing sensitive skin. A delicious shudder wracked through you, and you let your head fall back, granting him full access. He took it greedily, lips and teeth marking a path down to your collarbone.

“I think I do,” you whispered, raking your nails down his back. His wings shuddered violently, a strangled noise escaping him as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

“I won’t be able to stop,” he warned, his voice strained.

“Then don’t.”

Something inside him snapped.

Azriel hoisted you into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the nearest surface. His shadows tugged at your clothes, making quick work of the barriers between you. Every touch was frantic, every kiss bruising, as if he needed to map every inch of you before he lost his mind completely.

And then he was inside you, and the world shattered.

It was pure, unrelenting pleasure. He moved with a purpose, each thrust driving deeper, hitting the spot that had you gasping his name like a prayer. His grip was possessive, his lips never straying far from your skin—kissing, biting, soothing. He was everywhere, overwhelming, consuming, and you never wanted it to stop.

Your release barreled into you with the force of a storm, your body clenching around him as stars exploded behind your eyes. Azriel followed soon after, his name tumbling from your lips like a benediction. And as you both came down from the high, bodies tangled, breathing ragged, you felt it.

The bond.

It was like a golden thread snapping into place, something ancient and undeniable singing in your blood. Your eyes met Azriel’s, wide and disbelieving, his pupils blown wide with shock.

And then, a slow, wicked grin spread across his lips.

“Mine,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, his voice laced with awe and possession.

Yours. Forever.

[hoshifighting]

hi sweetie!<3, hope you are doing fine.

can i request svt angry sex?, idk, it has been on my mind lately, that's the thing.

angry sex with seventeen

WARNINGS: face slapping, slighty anal, fingering, clit stimulation, overstimulation, edging, deepthroat, chocking, slut/bitch shamming, crying, fight, begging, overwhelming...

seungcheol’s anger is real. he’s not one for degrading names, but he makes you kneel and beg for your orgasm, clasping your hands together. “beg,” he commands, you do, and when he finally takes you to the bed, it’s rough, almost careless. he spits for lubrication, sliding into you without preamble. you gasp, desperate to hold in any sounds as he thrusts relentlessly.

jeonghan tries to solve fights with angry sex. it’s a chaotic mess of slaps to your face, your pussy, and overstimulation until you’re begging for him to stop. “you’ll take it,” he snarls, pushing you to your limits. the aftermath is quiet, with him waiting for your egos to cool down before apologizing. “you need to learn your place,” he murmurs, his hands firm on your hips.

joshua’s gentle nature disappears in bed. he holds you down when you squirm, slaps your face when you scream, and bites you when you cry. his cock is pressed to the brim inside you as he demands you to say sorry, slapping you until you get it right. “say it properly,” he hisses, his eyes cold.

junhui feels conflicted, his actions alternating between slapping you and asking if you’re okay. reassured, he continues, surprising you with sex toys. “you’re okay, right?” he checks, even as he’s rough and relentless, ensuring you leave the sex marked and satisfied.

soonyoung’s anger translates into an exhaustive session of every position imaginable, circling your clit until you think it will fall off. your apartment fills with your combined screams, the fight forgotten. later, he cries, regretting solving things this way. “i didn’t want to do this,” he sobs, holding you tightly.

wonwoo is a ticking time bomb. when he finally explodes, there’s no time for preamble. he presses your face against the wall, fucking you roughly. “you’re such a slut,” he growls, his degradation only stopping when you collapse, unable to hold yourself up. afterwards, he’s full of whispered apologies, remorseful for his outburst.

woozi is methodical in his anger. he locks you in a headlock, fucking you from behind while his fingers torment your clit. “you’re such a brat, you never learn” he scolds, relentless until you’re crying after your orgasm. his heart shatters at your tears, but his anger needed an outlet.

minghao dislikes angry sex but knows everyone has limits. when you push him, he denies you the pleasure you seek, edging you without letting you cum. his quiet intensity leaves you desperate and frustrated. “go to sleep,” he says coldly, turning away. the next morning, he wakes you with oral, finally letting you cum as you apologize. “good girl,” he praises softly.

mingyu uses his size to his advantage, throwing you around like a rag doll. he calls you names he’d never use otherwise. “you’re such a bitch,” he snarls, slapping your ass until it’s red. when you’re exhausted and dirty, he kisses you, soothing the sting of his words with tenderness.

seokmin refuses to let you kiss or touch him, only allowing you to cry, moan, and whimper. “just cry for me,” he fucks you in all fours, his nails marking your hips as he slides a finger into your other hole, knowing you love it but are shy about it. he loves seeing you sheepish after saying so many angry things to him. “look at you now,” he taunts, a smirk on his lips.

seungkwan overstimulates you to show how easily he can make you cum, finding your clit in seconds and pistoning your g-spot with talented accuracy. he doesn’t stop until you’re soft in his arms, your sharp answers replaced by soft n' tired whimpers. “remember why you’re like this,” he says, his voice firm.

vernon is quiet, his actions speaking for his rage. he grips your ass brutally, chokes you until you’re slapping his arm for breath, and makes you deepthroat him until your spit is dripping down your face. “take it,” he commands, his eyes dark with anger, something veryrare to see.

chan is a little shit, continuing to bicker even during sex. “you think you’re so smart,” he loves seeing you angry, giving sharp answers until he thrusts so deeply you’re left speechless. “i’m talking now,” he says, a smug grin on his face. “you’ve talked enough.”

[himasgod]

hiii, hope you're having a good day!!

i finally mustered up the courage to ask for a scenario for sebek, where he's pursuing his s/o who continuously rejects his advances for physical touch (not because they don't like him back, but out of fear from a previous experience, but they do trust him a lot, justtt hoping sebek's a little patient with waiting until they're comfortable enough and when they do hold hands sebek might explode!)

hahahah its some nonsense but its been rotting my mind,,,

SEBEK X READER

Where he waits patiently for you and your issues with physical contact

I'm proud you mustered up the courage to send me this request. I hope I didn't disappoint you. As Sebek would say, I'm proud of you. Keep going <3

Sebek was loud about everything.

About Malleus. About his training. About the perfection of Briar Valley. And now about you.

Ever since he realized his feelings weren’t some fleeting fascination or admiration—but something real—he’s been loud about his intent to court you.

"I shall accompany you to alchemy class! It is not safe to walk alone with those Octavinelle students lurking about!"

"Eat more iron-rich foods! You're pale—paler than usual. You must keep your strength up!"

"Your form is sloppy—not bad! But lacking—acceptable! For a human! I mean. Yourbody IS lovely! It has always been! Yet I will train with you—"

And every time his gloved hand reached toward yours, every time his shoulder brushed too close, every time he forgot himself and leaned in too fast—you flinched. Or froze. Or pulled away.

And Sebek noticed.

Every. Single. Time.

At first, his pride screamed wounded offense. But it only lasted seconds. Because he saw your eyes—not rejecting, not disgusted, just afraid.

And then he remembered: real loyalty isn't just loud. It's patient.

So Sebek stopped reaching. He never spoke of it. Never demanded answers. Just adjusted.

Gave you space, a full arm’s length between you when you walked side-by-side.

Held back his natural instinct to offer you his hand when stepping over puddles.

Bit his tongue every time his heart screamed to hold you close.

Because you smiled at him. You trusted him.

That was enough.

Days passed, and he kept his promise. His hands remained respectfully at his sides when you sat close enough for your knees to brush. When you stumbled, he caught you without gripping too tight. And when you gave him those silent looks of gratitude, he stood straighter, proud.

not of himself, but of you.

Of how you stayed.

Of how you trusted him, even with your fear.

It happened during a walk by Ramshackle, the fireflies came out before curfew. The sun dipped low. The air smelled like and pine.

You were laughing—really laughing—at something stupid he'd said (about his chlidhood), and you didn’t realize how close you’d stepped. Your shoulders touched.

He froze.

But didn’t move away.

You didn’t either.

Then, slowly—tremblingly—you reached down.

And laced your fingers with his.

Sebek blinked. The world stopped.

“...My hand,” he whispered, blinking down.

You swallowed. “Is this okay…?”

He jolted upright like lightning . “O—OF COURSE IT IS!!”

He turned so red his ears glowed.

“I mean!!” He coughed, trying to recalibrate. “I… I will hold your hand as long as you desire. If this—if this is a sign of trust—then I shall remember you this. I'm so proud of you, and I love you. with all my being!”

You laughed again—softer. “Thank you… for waiting.”

His grip squeezed yours just a little.

He didn't need to say it. His wide eyes, glassy , said it all.

He’d wait a thousand years if it meant holding your hand like this.