#it's mark's hand on ten's hip for me

[heavenlybodies333]

Superman can hear you moan -C.K

Synopsis: You didn’t think Clark could hear you moaning his name while your fingers were buried deep between your thighs—until he knocked on your door and proved just how hard it was to ignore. Turns out Superman has super hearing… and zero self-control when you beg for him out loud.

cw: Unprotected sex, oral (f receiving). Creampie. Fingering. Mutual masturbation. Voice kink. Riding. Dominance/power play.  Slight breeding kink. Possessive Clark. super strength use (light). Exhibitionism implications (he can hear you anywhere). 

Metropolis rent was hell.

It was supposed to be just a financial arrangement—two broke twenty-somethings sharing a halfway decent apartment. You met him at some friend's birthday dinner and hit it off over cheap wine and sarcastic commentary about everyone else there. A month later, you were hauling your mattress into a shared two-bedroom.

The first few weeks were shockingly chill. You never really pried into his business—even when he vanished at weird hours or came back with tousled hair and a faint scorch mark on his flannel. You knew. Of course you knew. You weren’t an idiot. But you didn’t ask.

What he didn’t tell you? That he had super fucking hearing.

Scratch that—you had no fucking idea he could hear everything. The soft, wet glide of your fingers. The hitch of your breath. The whisper of “fuck, Clark” that slipped out before you even realized it.

So when you were tossing in bed one night, too restless to sleep, thoughts swirling with everything but rest—maybe it was the way Clark had walked out of the bathroom earlier with a towel slung so low you could see the V of his hips, wet curls dripping onto his shoulders—you’d let your hand drift under the hem of your sleep shirt.

It started soft. Lazy. Gentle. Just trying to calm your body enough to sleep. But your mind wandered. Images of Clark. His mouth. His hands. The way he said your name in that gravelly, sleepy voice when you passed him a mug of coffee in the mornings. Before you knew it, your fingers were slick, breath quick, teeth buried in your lower lip as your thighs squeezed together.

And Clark? Clark was two rooms away, jaw clenched so tight he thought he might crack a molar.

He’d heard everything. The soft gasp when you found that perfect rhythm. The quiet, desperate whimper of his name.

He gave you ten minutes. Ten excruciating minutes. But when you whimpered again—so fucking sweet and breathless, “God, Clark…”—he lost it.

You didn’t even have time to adjust your sleep shirt when the knock came.

Three sharp raps.

Then silence.

You scrambled, fingers sticky, heart racing as you yanked the blanket up and tried to catch your breath. “Uh—yeah?”

Clark’s voice came low, strained, from the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

You froze. “What?” you squeaked, already flushed.

A beat. Then: “I—I can hear you.”

Your entire body went cold. Then hot. Then achingly wet again.

“Clark,” you breathed, panic rising, embarrassment licking at your spine.

But when the door creaked open—just enough for his silhouette to fill the doorway—you saw the look in his eyes. Like it had taken every ounce of restraint not to burst in sooner.

“You—you heard me?”

His eyes dropped to the blanket still clutched to your chest. “I can hear a lot of things,” he said, voice gravel and heat. “But you? You were loud enough to drive me fucking crazy.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Not when Clark stepped into the room, slow and deliberate, shutting the door behind him.

You were still holding the blanket to your chest, knuckles white. But Clark’s eyes were burning a hole straight through it—and you. “I tried,” he muttered, voice low. “I tried to ignore it. Tried to be decent. But you—you were in here fucking moaning my name like you wanted me to hear it.”

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t know,” you whispered, lips barely moving. “I didn’t think—fuck, I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean to say my name?” he cut in, moving closer. Your bed creaked as he leaned a hand on the footboard. “Or you didn’t mean for me to hear you fuck yourself to the thought of me?” Your heart thudded so loud you were sure he could hear that too.

“I—I didn’t think—” you stammered, throat dry, skin fever-hot. “I didn’t know you could hear me.”

Clark’s eyes dragged over you, slow and hungry. “I always hear you.”

That made your thighs clench under the blanket. “Fuck.” Clark's eyes dropped, following the motion. He smirked—like he could see through the blanket. Honestly, maybe he could. “Can I please touch you?” He asked, almost a whine. 

Your back hit your bed. He bent low, hands gripping the backs of your thighs and dragging you down the bed so fast the mattress squeaked. His head ducked between your legs before you could even moan. 

Your head thrashed back, eyes rolling, and the second he sucked your clit into his mouth you came—hard—grinding helplessly against his face as he groaned and licked you through it

He pulled back only when your legs trembled uncontrollably, chin slick, eyes glazed over. “Get on top of me,” he growled, standing and tossing his shirt aside. “Ride me, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on me like you did with your fingers.”

You didn’t even think. You crawled into his lap as he sat on the edge of your bed, bare and fucking carved from marble. Your fingers wrapped around his cock—it was huge, thick and heavy and throbbing—and your stomach flipped.

“You gonna fit?” you whispered, teasing.

He smirked darkly. “You’re gonna take it.”

And you did.

You sank down slowly, inch by inch, your moans turning to whimpers as he stretched you open. His hands gripped your waist, helping you rock, bounce, take every inch with filthy, possessive murmurs.

“That’s it, baby—fuck—look at you, takin’ all of it.”

You whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders. “Clark—Clark—”

“I know you did,” he growled. “Could hear how bad you wanted it. Hear it every night, baby.”

“Every night?” you cried, jaw dropping.

“Every time you touch yourself.” His thrusts were brutal now, bouncing you like a ragdoll on his lap. “Every time you think you’re being quiet. You think I don’t hear how wet you get when I walk around in just a towel? You think I didn’t notice the way you moan into your pillow when you think I’ve gone to bed?”

You gasped, fingernails dragging down his chest. Your orgasm slammed into you with a scream—tight, fast, messy—and you came gushing around him.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me—” he grunted. “I’m gonna cum—fuck” He groaned into your neck as he came, hard, gripping you tight as his cock throbbed deep inside your soaked, spasming cunt. The flood of warmth filled you up until it spilled down your thighs, your entire body limp in his lap.

You collapsed forward, his arms tight around your waist. Both of you, panting and sweaty. Until he exhaled a laugh and brushed your hair back gently from your face. “Guess I should’ve told you about the superhearing sooner.”

You blinked. Still hazy. “You think?”

He grinned. “You gonna stop now that you know?”

You smirked. “What do you think, Superman?”

a/n: sometimes I wonder if I’m too slutty

[carnalcrows]

HELLMOUTH

pairing: baby saja x hunter! male reader

synopsis: You weren’t supposed to fuck him. You were supposed to restrain him, report the circle breach, and walk away. Instead, Baby SAJA’s in your bed with his wrists bound and your name spilling out of his mouth like a prayer. He asked for it—smug, bratty, soaked in power—and you made sure he remembers exactly who he gave it to.

content warnings: 18+, smut, power bottom dynamics, rough sex, top male reader, restraints (magic thread), bloodplay, demon magic, breathplay, possessive language, slight dub-con atmosphere (mutual desire is clear), degradation, overstimulation, rune/sigil kink, light aftercare.

word count: 1.4k

His wrists are bound to your headboard with red charm-thread, smeared where he bit through the ink. Not that it matters.

You learned ten minutes in that he likes fighting the bindings. The flex of his arms, the way his claws twitch and fumble against the magic—he moans when they burn. He rolls his hips into the mattress, taunting you even when he’s already panting, flushed, sweat damp across his temples.

“Your wards are weak, hunter,” he gasps, grinning as the sigils glow hot against his skin. “You tie all your enemies up this pretty?”

You slap your hand over his thigh—hard. His breath stutters. The mark on his throat pulses.

“You don’t look like you want to be freed,” you say. “You look like you want to be used.”

His laugh drips with challenge. “Then fucking do it.”

You grab him by the jaw—sharp, forceful—and tilt his head until he’s staring straight at you.

His mouth is swollen. His lips are red. His fangs are just barely peeking out, and you can see the outline of a summoning sigil under his collarbone, still active.

That’s the thing about demons like Baby. They don’t just get off on pain. They get off on submission. On loss of control. On the exact moment when you finally say:

“You asked for this.”

You spit in your palm and drag your hand down his cock—slow, cruel. He shudders. His legs twitch where they’re spread open, still glowing faintly with the remnants of the circle he broke crawling into your bed like a fucking temptation.

You stroke him once. Just once.

And he arches.

“Fuck—” he hisses, hips jerking. “Took you long enough, hyung.”

You slap your hand over his mouth and lean in, nose against his throat.

“I said shut up.”

He nods, too fast. But he’s smirking under your palm, and you know he’s going to talk again. Of course he is.

Demons like him need to be put in their place. Mouth first. Ass second. And crying by the time you're done.

You lean in close—your hand still covering his mouth—and let your breath drag across his cheek. He tries to chase it, tries to part his lips, but you press harder.

“You don’t get to talk anymore,” you murmur, and pull back just enough to look at him—really look at him. “Not until you earn it.”

His cock twitches against his stomach. Good. He gets it now.

You reach down, spreading his legs wider, and watch the way the blood-wrapped charm thread glows along his thighs. He’s so fucking wet already—messy and leaking and needy—and still acting like he’s in control.

He lifts his hips toward your hand again, wrists tugging helplessly at the bindings, fangs biting down into a breath.

“I said—” you growl, removing your hand just long enough to slap him once, hard, across the cheek—“shut up.”

His head turns with the hit, eyes fluttering.

Then he smiles. It's not sweet.

“Make me.”

You do.

The first thrust knocks the breath out of him. He gasps, full-body twitch, spine arching off the bed. You don’t give him time to adjust. He doesn’t deserve time. He’s been asking for this since he smirked at you in rehearsal like he owned the whole damn world.

You grab him by the hips and force him back down. Let him feel how deep you are, how strong you are, how ruined he’s going to be by the time you’re finished.

He moans. Louder than you expect. His legs shake around your waist and the summoning sigils under his skin start to glow again—pulsing, fucked-open magic.

“Is this what you wanted?” you snap, fucking into him with enough force to rattle the headboard. “Or are you going to cry about it?”

He tries to say something. You don’t let him. You slam into him again and his voice breaks—just sound, raw and desperate. You press a hand flat over his throat and lean over him, your mouth against his ear.

“This power act,” you growl, breath heavy, “is cute. But I don’t think you understand what you just signed up for.”

He trembles under you. Not from fear. From tension. His wrists twist again against the glowing red charm-thread, mouth open, moaning through his teeth as you start to fuck him for real, mercilessly.

He’s cocky even now, trying to grind up into it, trying to ride back onto your cock like he’s in control—but he’s not. He’s loud and leaking and dripping sweat onto the sheets, bound and glowing and twitching around you like the magic can’t decide if it wants to mark him or melt him.

Your hand tightens on his throat.

“You’re mine until that bond burns out,” you whisper. “You gave yourself to me, remember?”

His head snaps back—sigils flashing—and he moans.

“Yes,” he gasps, voice breaking. “Yours. Fuck, I—hyung, I can’t—”

“You can,” you snarl, driving in deep and grinding your hips down. “You will. I’m not stopping until you’re begging me to.”

He already is.

He’s wrecked by the time your rhythm really sets in. Back arched. Wrists raw. Neck slick with sweat. You lean down and drag your tongue over the side of his throat—catching the taste of burning sigil, old blood, and something darker underneath.

He whines.

You fuck him harder.

His legs wrap around your waist, desperate now, heels digging in. His claws rake against the threads binding him and spark at the edges—like even his power is losing shape under you.

You shove your hand into his hair and yank his head back.

“Look at me,” you say. “Don’t you dare look away.”

His eyes flutter open, pupils blown wide.

You spit in his mouth.

He moans.

He’s a mess. Wrists shaking in their restraints. Thighs trembling with each thrust. Mouth open but no sound coming out anymore—just gasps, broken and hot and high in his throat like he’s forgotten how to beg.

You fuck him through it anyway.

Faster. Deeper. Until his whole body jerks beneath you and the runes burned into his skin start to glitch—sparking faint gold and red like they’re about to short out. Even the threads binding him are flickering, magic fraying at the seams.

You lean over him, panting, forehead pressed to his.

"You still with me?"

He nods, too fast. His whole face is flushed, hair stuck to his temple, eyes glassy.

Then he breathes out, barely audible—

“Didn’t say stop.”

You lose it.

Grabbing his hips, you pin him down and slam into him until the bed shakes, until the air smells like sweat and sex and the tail-end of a summoning circle burning out. He arches once—choked noise in his throat—and then he’s coming.

Hard.

It hits him like a wave, his whole body seizing around you, toes curling, head thrown back with a cry that sounds more like a sob than a moan. His cock pulses untouched between you, mess splattering across his stomach. The rune on his collarbone flares—then dies out.

But you’re not done.

Not until you’ve milked every last twitch from his body.

Not until he’s sobbing your name with his arms still tied, hips trying to squirm away but too sensitive to move, too full to think. You fuck him through it—slow now, deliberate, watching the aftershocks ripple through his thighs.

Only when he gasps—"I c-can’t, hyung, please—"—do you slow.

Do you stop.

Do you press a hand to his stomach and just hold him still.

For a moment, all either of you can hear is his ragged breathing

You lean down and kiss his cheek, just once.

He flinches—over stimmed. Then melts into it.

“…you good?” you ask, voice hoarse.

He hums. A small, satisfied sound. Quiet.

You reach up and start untying the threads around his wrists. His arms fall limp the second they’re free. He lets you touch him now—lets you trace over the marks, lets you pull the sweat-slick hair from his face.

He blinks at you, eyes half-closed, still wrecked. “Next time,” he mutters, “I’m on top.”

You grin, slow and mean.

“Not a fucking chance.”

Baby groans, turns his head into the pillow, and mutters, “Worth asking.”

You let him rest. For now.

But deep in your chest, under the blood-warm haze of spent magic, you know something’s shifted. The bond might burn off by morning. Or it might not. He might walk out like it never happened. Or he might crawl back into your bed with that same mouth, same smirk, same glowing sigils begging to be pulled apart again.

Doesn’t matter.

You’ll be ready.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

Taglist: @axetivev @yyuinaa @zaynesyumei @sageofspades @onyxmango @puccigucii @the-ultimate-librarian @sooobiinn @sooniebby @i2innie @tintenka1 @timaas-blog @darlinqvi @horrorsbeyondreality @rednugget @lysanderplume @leron1108 @kauo-writez @the0ishere @calgurl @kissenturine @bleedingbl0ssom @gayaristocrat @hyppernovva [comment to be added, or send an ask]

[cherbii]

a.n -> loosely inspired by Triiiin 🌿 on TikTok

warnings -> language, smut, crack, fluff

Husband!RyomenSukuna would never take shit from anyone else, unless it was his wife.

And honestly? He liked it that way.

He could chew people out for breakfast, glare down CEOs at meetings, make waiters cry just by raising a brow. But if you told him to sit his ass down? He’d grumble, but he’d do it. Eventually.

It wasn’t because he was soft. It was because he was yours.

One time at a hardware store he started arguing with a cashier over a coupon he didn’t even need.

“You’re telling me it expired yesterday? That’s bullshit.” Sukuna’s voice was sharp, chest puffed, standing way too tall over the poor guy.

The cashier stammered, clutching the receipt. “Uh, sir, I-I’m just following policy—”

“Policy’s for people who don’t have common sense.”

You walked up mid-scene, holding your basket full of cleaning supplies, eyes narrowing.

“Baby.”

Sukuna glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Put the coupon down. You make more in a week than this kid will in a year. We don’t need ten percent off a wrench.”

He clenched his jaw, looked back at the cashier, then back at you.

“Babe, it’s the principle—”

You stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the register.

“Nope. I’m not spending our Saturday watching you terrorise a nineteen-year-old making a minimum wage. Go wait in the car.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Dead serious. I’ll finish here. You go cool off.”

His eyes narrowed, lips twitching. “You love bossing me around, huh?”

“Damn right I do.”

He sighed through his nose, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked out without another word. Because yeah, he could ruin someone else’s day, but not yours.

Sometimes sex with him was like a battle. But in a good way.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t romantic candles and moody playlists. It was sweat and grip marks on thighs. It was hair tugging and biting.

One night, you were riding him on the couch, both of you still half-dressed because you couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. Your shorts were somewhere on the floor. His sweatpants were halfway down.

His hands gripped your hips, rough, fingers pressing bruises into your skin.

“Fuck, you’re hot like this,” he rasped, eyes hooded, lips parted. “All bossy. All loud.”

You rolled your eyes, breath hitching when he thrust up into you.

“Maybe if you’d clean the kitchen once in a while, I’d be nicer.”

“Oh yeah?” His hand came down on your ass, sharp. “Say that again.”

You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Sukuna.”

“What?”

“Shut the fuck up and let me focus.”

He laughed, deep, gravelly, smug as hell, but he leaned back and let you take what you wanted. Hands behind his head, tattoos flexing, eyes locked on you like you were the only thing worth watching.

You bit your lip, grinding harder, chasing the friction. His cock hit all the right spots because you knew how to angle it. His eyes stayed locked on yours, gaze half-lidded, lips twitching.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice low. “Using me like a toy.”

And when you came, shaking, breathless, he let you ride it out before flipping you under him to finish what you started.

After, he cleaned you up with a towel, not because he was sweet, but because he liked being the one to do it.

“Don’t think this means you’re off dish duty tomorrow,” you muttered into his chest.

“Babe,” he smirked, kissing the top of your head, “I’d do your dishes for life if you keep riding me like that.”

Sometimes he’d come home from work all pissed off, shoulders tense, tie loose around his neck, jaw tight.

“What happened now?” you’d ask, already knowing the answer.

“Idiots. That’s what happened.”

“Oh no. People were dumb again? How tragic.”

“Mock me one more time, babe.”

You grinned, holding out his favourite drink. “Come sit down before you throw something.”

He grumbled but took the cup and let you pull him onto the couch. His head dropped into your lap five minutes later.

“Love you,” he muttered against your thigh.

“I know.”

You always teased him for being dramatic, but you were just as bad.

Once, during a stupid argument about groceries, you threw a whole head of lettuce at him.

He dodged it. Barely.

“Really?” he said, staring at the lettuce on the floor. “That’s your move?”

“Stop leaving the milk open.”

“You’re insane.”

“You married me.”

“Don’t remind me.”

You kissed him right after. He kissed you back.

Other nights, things were softer.

He’d pull you into bed after a long day, grip your waist, bury his face in your neck.

“Stay home tomorrow,” he’d whisper.

“I can’t. I have meetings.”

“Quit your job.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll pay for everything.”

“You already do,” you said, smirking, “but I still like working.”

He sighed into your skin, voice muffled. “You’re too stubborn.”

“Takes one to know one.”

You had your own rituals.

He made you coffee every morning, even though he bitched about how you liked it too sweet.

“Want me to pour a whole bag of sugar in there, babe?” he’d mutter, dumping in two extra scoops anyway.

You packed his lunch every day, even though he acted like he didn’t care.

“People at the office are gonna think I’m soft,” he’d say, opening his bag to find handwritten notes and snacks.

“Good.”

When you fought, it was loud. But when you loved each other, it was louder.

He texted you random shit all day. Memes. Sarcastic comments. “Look at this idiot at the gym” photos.

You sent him screenshots of dumb tweets and called him during meetings just to hear his annoyed “What, babe?” before melting when he realised it was you.

One weekend, you tried building Ikea furniture together.

Worst idea of your life.

“Babe, hand me the wrench.”

“I am the wrench.”

“Sukuna.”

“I’m serious.”

“Shut up and screw the damn leg on.”

“Why don’t you screw it on?”

“Because I’m reading the instructions.”

“I don’t need instructions.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

Three hours later, the coffee table was upside down, and you were both lying on the floor, laughing like idiots.

You also didn’t do anniversaries the normal way.

You booked tattoos. Matching again, this time something dumb, you’re a sad, wilted rose and his a blooming, thriving flower, both symbolising the two of you (guess which’s who)

When the artist finished, Sukuna kissed your hand.

“You’re stuck with me,” he muttered, tracing the ink.

“Good.”

Sometimes you caught him staring at you like he still couldn’t believe you were his.

Like when you were brushing your teeth in the mirror, hair messy, wearing his hoodie.

“What?” you’d ask, mouth full of toothpaste.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“I’m just thinking about how lucky you are to have me.”

You smacked him with a towel.

But later, in bed, he kissed you soft, lips brushing your cheek, voice low.

“I’m serious though.”

“About what?”

“You’re stuck with me.”

“I know.”

And yeah, Sukuna never took shit from anyone else.
But for you?

He’d take it every day.


[lonerslug]

34+35+??

a/n: if ariana said "can you stay up all night? fuck me ‘til the daylight?" then i had no choice but to write 5 fics that left me dehydrated, limping, and spiritually transformed, bruh this fic took way too long. this post contains nothing but sickening smut, filthy filth, and hot women ruining me six different ways, every pairing is its own little porno novella. i made sure nobody goes home unsatisfied, so please hydrate, stretch, and turn your notifications off this is 10,000+ words of certified coochie combustion. yall have been warned ➤ MINORS DO 👏 NOT 👏 INTERACT ➤ scroll carefully, some of y’all can’t handle the grayson section ➤ reblogs and likes pls, i worked my clit off enjoy sluts 💌 —mama mila

pairings [SEPARATE]: sevika x reader, ambessa x reader, grayson x reader, vi x reader, caitlyn x reader

warnings... mdni ;; 18+ ;; nsfw ;; rough sex ;; dom/sub dynamics ;; oral ;; toys ;; overstimulation ;; degration ;; praise ;; body worship ;; size kink ;; straps ;; mommy kink ;; mirrors ;; cigarettes ;; orgasm control ;; fingering ;; marking ;; choking ;; hair pulling ;; slapping ;; gagging ;; titty sucking ;; age gaps (all legal) ;; spit play ;; possesiveness.

꒰ Sevika - baby, you might need a seatbelt when i ride it…

You wake up to her mouth already between your thighs.

It’s the softest kind of sinful. Blankets pushed down to your hips, sunrise sneaking through the blinds, and Sevika’s massive hands gripping your thighs like handles as she eats like she’s starving. Like this is breakfast. Like you’re hers.

You twitch when her tongue circles your clit again, sleep barely clinging to your body as she works you open. She's deliberate, slow, heavy licks, her nose brushing your mound as she hums against you. Your legs twitch once, twice.

"Morning, sweetheart," she rasps, lips slick and chin shiny as she peers up over your stomach. “Didn’t mean to wake you. You just looked too good.”

She kisses the inside of your thigh. Then bites it.

Your voice cracks, barely above a whisper. "Sevika!"

“Shh.” Her eyes are dark. “Back to sleep, baby. I’ll take care of everything.”

You’re already soaking, but she drags it out. Makes out with your pussy like it's your mouth —slow, tongue heavy, teasing your hole and sucking your clit between her lips until your hips buck off the bed. She laughs, low and smug.

“Already squirming?” she murmurs. “Barely been ten minutes. Thought you liked it slow in the mornings.”

"You're insane,” you hiss, fisting the sheets.

She shrugs, voice full of that cocky rasp. “You say that like it’s new.”

You whimper when her fingers join her tongue. Two thick digits, slow but deep, curling up with practiced precision. You swear she knows your body better than you do. She sets a rhythm that makes your thighs shake, tongue flattening over your clit while her fingers drag across your sweet spot like a perfect key.

The orgasm hits you so hard, your vision blurs.

She keeps going.

Doesn’t even let you come down. Licks through it like she lives for your overstimulation, like every whimper you let out is worth waking up for. She only pulls back when you tug her hair and sob out her name.

Your breath stutters. “ohh I can’t! ”

“You will,” she growls, eyes dark and gentle all at once. “One more, baby. Just one.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re folded in her lap in front of the mirror.

She’s got her strap inside you, big, thick, and black with a low curve that rubs perfectly. Her thighs are spread wide, muscles flexing beneath you as she makes you grind down on her cock slow and sloppy. The mirror reflects everything: your flushed cheeks, your soaked thighs, the way she grabs your ass and helps you bounce, your teary, fucked-out eyes blinking up at your own reflection.

“Look at that,” she purrs, one hand grabbing your jaw and turning it to the glass. “Takin’ it so good. So deep.”

"Too much," you pant. Your hips are trembling, thighs burning, and her strap is buried so deep. You’re full in a way that makes your stomach ache, the angle hitting all the right spots as your slick makes a mess across both your legs.

“Nah, you got room,” she rasps. "This pussy always knows how to make space for me."

Her arm wraps around your waist, hand splayed across your stomach to press you down. She grinds her hips up, feeding you more of the strap, and you nearly collapse when the tip bumps your cervix.

“Thought you said you wanted a seatbelt?” she teases, breath hot against your ear. “Where’s all that bratty energy now, huh?”

Your hands scramble against her thighs, fingers digging into her thick, muscled skin. She’s wearing nothing but a wife beater, sweatpants half-down her thighs, strap cinched so tight around her hips it creaks when she moves.

And she moves.

Bucks her hips up into you, holds your waist down and grinds until you’re gasping, legs shaking, nails leaving crescent marks on her skin. You can feel your orgasm building again, too fast and too deep, your stomach's already tight, eyes already glassy,

“Go ahead,” she murmurs. “Cream on it. You're doing soo well, baby.”

You wail as you come, whole body tensing in her arms as she fucks you through it.

꒰ Ambessa - show me can you keep it up? Cause then I'll have to keep you up,

You asked to be on top.

Ambessa laughed.

And now you're here, legs trembling, face flushed, mouth locked around her tit, while your soaked pussy grinds down onto her strap like your life depends on it.

Her hand spreads across your ass, massive and hot, guiding your movements as you try to ride her in rhythm. But you’re falling apart. Every bounce makes her cock grind deeper inside you, her pelvis pressing into your clit just enough to keep you constantly on the edge.

“You wanted to be in control,” she growls, tilting your chin. “Show me, baby. Show me you can keep it up.”

You moan around her nipple, lips wrapped tight, tongue flicking it in desperation. Her tit is heavy in your mouth, sweat-slick and perfect, and she groans when you suck harder, needier.

“Such a greedy little mouth,” she purrs, flexing her hips up. You whine as the strap hits deeper.

“mmh too big...”

“I know,” she smirks. “you begged for it.”

Her arms flex, muscles rippling beneath her skin, and suddenly she’s lifting you, not off the dick, but just enough to bounce you down harder. She does it like it’s nothing. Like you weigh less than the glass of wine she drank earlier.

Your thighs burn. Your hands grip her shoulders. You can't stop moaning into her chest, sucking her tit like it’s air, while she takes your hips and drives you down on her cock over and over again.

“Fuck, Ambessa m-mommy”

“Mmm. That’s more like it, little girl.”

She slaps your ass, not hard, commanding. “Such a sweet little mess. Look at you. Crying already, and we’ve barely started.”

“I can’t,”

“oh you will.”

you’re bent backwards on her gold-trimmed bed, throat dry, legs shaking, while she fucks you into the kind of submission that leaves your soul floating.

“Open your legs for mommy.”

You obey instantly. Her voice doesn’t allow disobedience. Ambessa kneels between your thighs, strap glistening from the last round, her lips glistening even more.

She goes slow this time.

Not because she’s being gentle, but because she enjoys watching you unravel. Her hands keep your legs spread wide, and her mouth... god, her mouth moves like she’s tasting the finest fruit in the empire. She hums, deep and low, like she owns your body and wants the world to hear it.

You writhe.

"Stay still," she warns. "or I’ll tie you down."

The threat makes you clench.

She chuckles. Then she spits on your pussy and dives back in.

You cum with a scream, thighs trembling so hard you nearly kick her in the face, but she holds you still, licking until you’re sobbing, too sensitive, too full,

She loves it.

“Poor thing,” she croons, rubbing your stomach. “so small. So easy to ruin.”

Eventually, you pass out.

For like... six minutes.

꒰ Grayson - you might think i’m crazy, the way i’ve been craving…

You’re in her lap. Her big, warm hands are resting on your thighs, just under your skirt, her mouth brushing the corner of your jaw.

She whispers against your skin. “You gonna tell me why you came here at midnight in something so short?”

You shift in her lap. It’s already hot between your legs. Her thigh is thick and firm beneath you, and you can feel her muscles move through her slacks when she shifts. Her hand glides to your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

You gasp when she slips her thumb into your mouth.

“There,” she murmurs. “just like that, relax. You’re safe here.”

She kisses you. Full lips, gentle pressure, firm hold. You moan into her mouth, and she just drinks it in, one hand cupping your ass, the other sliding up your back beneath your shirt. Her fingers are calloused. Warm. She slides them up until they find your bra clasp and unhooks it like she’s done it a thousand times.

"Is this what you wanted, darling?" she whispers against your lips.

You nod frantically. “Please, I need —”

“I know,” she says softly, like she's soothing a fire. “Let me take care of you.”

Grayson sets you on her desk.

Pushes the reports aside, the polished nameplate, the pen you’d been chewing on earlier. Her hands go to your knees and part them like it’s nothing. Like you belong to her.

She sinks to her knees.

Your heart skips. You’ve seen this woman command entire divisions. She’s terrifying in a court, powerful in every room, and she’s kneeling in front of you like worship.

Your panties are already soaked.

She doesn’t even pull them down at first. She just presses her face into the damp fabric, nuzzling, inhaling. Her breath is hot through the cotton.

“So sweet,” she murmurs. “You’ve been wet since I called you ‘darling' earlier, haven’t you?”

You whimper. "mhmm yes ma'am."

She doesn’t make you beg long.

Her tongue is slow at first. Gentle. She kisses your inner thigh. Then licks you through your panties, long, slow, messy licks until you’re squirming and your hands are in her hair.

She slips your underwear down your legs and hums when she finally gets her mouth on you.

Her tongue moves like she’s memorising you. Circling your clit, pressing into your folds, curling up into your entrance just to tease. Her hands are on your hips, holding you still.

You start to cry when she moans into you.

It’s too much, too intimate, and when you sob out her name, she finally looks up. Her mouth is slick. Her eyes are kind.

"That's it. Let go. I've got you."

When she slides two fingers inside, it’s perfect.

Not rushed. Not rough. Just deep, slow, and careful. She watches your face the whole time. You can’t look away. She’s so beautiful like this, face flushed, sleeves rolled up, blue jacket still buttoned, hair mussed from where you gripped it.

She curls her fingers, presses her palm against your mound and drags her touch across that perfect spot inside you. You cry out, back arching. She doesn’t stop.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she murmurs. “I want to see your face when you come.”

And you do.

You fall apart on her fingers, thighs shaking, body quaking as her mouth claims your clit again and she keeps working you through it, gentle but relentless, dragging the orgasm out until your nails leave marks on her desk.

You don’t even realise she’s lifted you until you’re in her lap again, back against her chest.

Her fingers are still inside you, lazily fucking you as you twitch from overstimulation. Her other hand is on your chest, cupping your breast.

“Such a good girl,” she murmurs against your neck. “So good for me. You did so well.”

꒰ Vi - Got the neighbors yellin earthquake, 4.5 when I make the bed shake,

"Strip. Now."

You’re naked and on your knees in seconds, thighs already shaking in anticipation.

Vi pulls out the toy bag like it’s a ritual. Unzips it, slow and smug, and holds up the strap first —black, thick, and buzzing lowly in her palm. Your mouth drops.

"Remember this one, baby?" she grins. “The one that made you cry and drool last time?”

She climbs on the bed, already strapping in. The curve is perfect, the base buzzing quietly while she fastens it to her hips like a fucking weapon. She's not even undressed yet, just in that damn hoodie and those godforsaken gray sweats, letting her strap do the talking.

“You know the rules,” she says, licking her lips. “Color?”

“r-red,” you breathe, already throbbing.

She nods. “Good. You’re gonna need it.”

First, she ties your wrists.

Not tight, but enough to keep you still. Arms above your head, ankles spread by her hands as she crawls between your thighs, eyes burning.

“Missed this pussy,” she whispers. “Missed the way you taste when you’re desperate.”

Her mouth hits your cunt and you scream.

No teasing. No warm-up. She eats you like she’s starving, fast, messy, spit and tongue everywhere, her nose grinding your clit as she groans into you like she’s trying to leave a mark. You writhe, sobbing into the pillows, already close because she knows you. Knows how to lick, suck, fuck with her tongue and make your brain go blank.

You come in like 90 seconds. She doesn’t stop.

Doesn’t even slow down.

She just slides two fingers in, curling, rough, and holds you there while you writhe, overstimulated and crying into the mattress.

“Already?” she laughs. “You’re falling apart and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

When she flips you over, your thighs are trembling.

You’re on your back now, wrists tied above your head, legs open, and Vi between them with that strap angled just right. She holds a vibrator in one hand, silver, sleek, vicious.

She clicks it on. Presses it to your clit. You scream.

She smiles.

Then lines up the strap and slides in.

You didn’t know you could feel this full.

The dildo is thick and long, already vibrating inside you as she fucks in deep and slow. Your body arches off the bed, muscles tightening as she grinds her hips down, rolling the toy against every sweet spot inside you. The vibrator is still on your clit, held tight between you.

She’s fucking you into the mattress. Literally.

The bed frame bangs against the wall, once, twice, loud enough that the neighbor knocks from the other side.

“Vi, oh!” you gasp.

She laughs. "Let ‘em hear," she grunts. “Let ‘em know who fucks you this good.”

Your orgasm hits like a truck. You go stiff, back bowing, a cry ripping from your throat as you clench around the vibrating strap and the toy makes your clit throb. Vi watches the whole thing, smirking, sweating, thrusting through your release like she’s on a mission.

Then she turns the vibrator up. Another level.

You sob. “No no no I can’t Vi, please!”

She leans over you, breath hot, one hand wrapping lightly around your throat as she slows the thrusts to deep, grinding pushes.

“You can,” she purrs. “You’ll give me one more. I know you will. You’re my good little mess, aren’t you?”

You nod frantically, tears falling, thighs twitching as she forces another orgasm from your wrung-out body.

You scream again when you come. She kisses your open mouth, still fucking deep and slow, like she wants you ruined for anyone else.

꒰ Caitlyn - You such a dream come true, true. make a bitch wanna hit snooze, ooh

Her accent is worse than the teasing. Worse than the lingerie she bought you, white lace, half-off, thin and already soaked. Worse than the mirror showing every inch of your shame, flushed cheeks, trembling thighs, the way your cunt clenches nothing when she so much as grazes your skin.

"Eyes up," she commands softly. "I want you to watch yourself fall apart."

She touches you like it’s a lesson in patience.

No rush. Just long strokes over your stomach. A kiss behind your ear. Her hand sliding between your thighs and resting there. Not rubbing. Not moving.

“Desperate already?” she muses. “So needy for my fingers. Or is it just the sound of my voice?”

You nod, frantic. “n-need you”

She hums. “Manners.”

“Please, Miss Kiramman.”

She smiles. That smile. Dangerous. Rich. Full of pride and ownership.

“Good girl.”

The first touch is electric.

Her fingers press against your clit, slow circles that drag a whimper from your throat. Your legs twitch. She holds you still with one hand at your lower back, the other teasing your entrance without giving you what you want.

"So responsive," she murmurs. “I could do this all night.”

And she does.

She edges you. Brings you close, then pulls away. Toys with your nipples, mouth warm and wet, tongue swirling slowly as her fingers sink inside you, just enough to make your thighs shake. Not enough to let you come.

Over and over. You sob. You beg. Your knees give out.

Caitlyn just tilts your face up to the mirror again.

"See that? That’s what I do to you.”

You finally break when she pulls out the vibrator.

Small. Silver. Discreet. She turns it on and presses it to your clit with precision, holding it just right while two fingers slide back in. Your whole body convulses.

"oh Cait, please I can’t!"

She clicks her tongue. “You’ll come when I say, not before.”

You’re sobbing.

She kisses your cheek. “You’re like a dream come true, darling.”

Your orgasm hits when she lets it.

She leans down, voice velvet against your ear. “Now, my love.”

Your body shatters. You scream, legs twitching, tears streaking your cheeks as she works you through it, vibrator still on, fingers slow and loving, her lips murmuring praise into your neck.

"That’s it. That’s my girl. So perfect for me."

reblogs are appreciated!!

taglist: @georgiahs-stuff @shanesevikasfuckdoll @illbecanon @sevikas-whore @barelykiramman @sapphicstrawcore @sevikaswinkinghole @riotstemple29 @amri0ram @yuripilledfemme @mommyissuesismypersonality @butchpuppyy @shxdy0ariia @kousanosgf @lucidfairies

[v1kastr4p]

tattoo artist sevika.

nsfw / fem!reader / soft shy reader x big mean perv tattoo artist sevika / size kink, teasing, overstim, thigh riding, praise & degradation mix

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who looks like a fucking sin-stained painting behind the counter when you walk in. thighs spread, smoke curling from her lips, tank top loose enough to show the swell of her pecs and a black sports bra doing nothing to hide how thickly muscled she is. ink all over her arms and neck and throat and fingers, rings clinking as she flips through her tablet, completely ignoring you at first until you give a sheepish little cough and go, “um, hi! i’m here for the 4 o’clock—” and then she looks up. and you’re done for. you get wetter the longer she stares. her eyes rake over you so slow it feels intentional, a smirk tugging at her mouth like she knows your panties are already clinging to your cunt.

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who makes you sit on the bench at the front while she “finishes up paperwork” except all she’s doing is leaning back and watching you squirm with her legs spread and a heavy-lidded gaze. you try not to fidget, not to touch the hem of your sundress or play with your lip too much but she notices everything. you have this helpless little bounce in your knees when you're nervous, and her eyes flick down to the way your thighs press together each time. "you always this jittery, sweetheart?" she drawls from her seat, voice like rough smoke and liquor. you laugh nervously, go, “hah, yeah, i’m just excited! and a little scared. i’ve never gotten a tattoo before…” her grin goes feral. “don’t worry, i’m real good at takin’ girls through their first time.”

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who leads you into the back room with one hand around your waist, guiding you through the hallway of framed flash art and heavy music with a possessive palm riding low on your hip. “so. where you want it?” she asks once the door’s shut behind you, voice curling with smug interest. you lift your skirt a little and point to your outer thigh. “here?” her eyebrows raise. “mmm. shame to mark somethin’ so soft. but hey, your call.” her fingers brush your skin as she cleans the area and you whimper, thighs flinching shut a little, and her gaze locks on.

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who makes you lay back with your legs slightly apart so she can get the angle right, and the position alone already has your face warm and your cunt clenching. she notices. of course she notices. “nervous?” she asks low while she snaps gloves on, pressing her fingers into your thigh to stretch the skin and feeling the twitch beneath her hands. you nod, biting your lip, so she leans down, breath brushing your cheek, and goes— “don’t worry, doll. i’ll be gentle… at first.” and you swear she says that just to watch your nipples harden through the thin fabric of your dress.

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who starts the needle and watches the way your eyes flutter shut, the sting making your breath catch and your fists curl. but you don’t whine. not yet. and she likes that. “you’re takin’ it better than i thought,” she murmurs, dark eyes fixed on your face. “bet you practiced bein’ quiet for me, huh?” you choke. “wh—what?” she just smirks, mouth tilted up like she’s already imagining something. “nothing. hold still, doll.”

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who keeps one hand heavy on your inner thigh the entire session, fingers resting so close to your heat that your panties are practically soaked through in under ten minutes. and when she shifts her hand slightly,, you make a little sound that gives everything away. her voice drops. “you really lettin’ a complete stranger touch you this close to your cunt?” you whimper. “you’re not a stranger…” she chuckles, dark and low. “no? then say my name.” “sevika.” “louder.” “sevika…” “good girl.”

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who takes forever with the shading, dragging it out just to keep you on edge. every stroke of the needle is slow, intentional, making your thighs twitch and your cunt throb. your hips shift, just slightly. and that’s when she calls you out. “somethin’ wrong, doll? you’re squirming awful much.” you try to play innocent. “i-it just tickles.” she raises an eyebrow. “tickles? baby, if that’s what you call this, you won’t survive five minutes on my lap.”

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who finishes the tattoo… but doesn’t move away. instead, she pulls her gloves off slow, eyes still fixed on your thighs. “y’want a reward for sitting so still?” you nod without thinking, wide-eyed and panting already. she clicks her tongue. “spoiled little thing. bet you’d let me do anything if i called you my good girl again.”

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who pulls you into her lap like it’s nothing, one big hand gripping your ass while the other presses your soaked panties aside. "fuckin' drenched. knew it." you squeak, hands flying to her shoulders, but she grinds your bare cunt down against her thick thigh with no mercy, letting you feel the muscle flex beneath your folds. “go on then,” she murmurs against your neck. “show me how bad you needed it.”

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who watches every second of you riding her thigh, her hands gripping your hips and guiding you into a rhythm that has your clit dragging perfect against the fabric of her pants. your whines get higher, your thighs tremble, your hands clutch her tighter. and when you finally cry out, cunt twitching, grinding hard through your first orgasm, she doesn’t stop. “again.” “s-sevika—” “you asked for a reward, didn’t you?” “i—i did but—hnhhn—!” “then fuckin’ take it.”

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who overstimulates you with lazy ease, keeping you straddling her thigh and bouncing until your voice goes hoarse and your cunt leaks down her leg. she tilts your chin up with two fingers, forces you to look at her through teary lashes. “you know how many girls cry in my chair?” you sniffle. “n-no…” she smirks. “only the ones that come on it.”

❀ tattoo artist!sevika who finally lets you breathe, rubbing gentle circles on your lower back while you twitch in her lap, and then kisses your cheek real soft. “you did good, baby. i’ll touch it up for free if you need.” you blink at her, dazed. “the tattoo?” she grins. “that too.”

pt. 2

[mooningningg]

ᴊᴊᴋ ʀᴏᴄᴋ ʙᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

notes, i've got to stop this is nawtt me.

drummer!sukuna who barely talks during soundcheck. just rolls his neck, stretches out his shoulders, tests his kit with three sharp hits and a scowl. but the second you walk in? he glances up, eyes tracking you without missing a beat. no smile. just a quieter kind of attention.

he plays better when you’re there. doesn’t say it. doesn’t need to.

drummer!sukuna who sends you a text that just says “where” after a show. no punctuation. no question mark. you reply “home,” and ten minutes later you hear his bike pull up outside. he doesn’t even knock — just walks in, kicks his boots off, drops his bag, and collapses on your couch like he lives there.

you pass him a cold drink. he grunts. “thanks.”

it means: i missed you. i’m tired. i needed to see you. all in one.

drummer!sukuna who acts like he’s annoyed every time you ask about his tattoos — rolls his eyes, scoffs, says “none of your business.” but when you’re curled up next to him, tracing them with your fingers, he’ll murmur, “this one’s from when i got expelled.” you ask why.

he shrugs. “pissed off a teacher. punched a guy. you know. dumb shit.”

then he lets you keep touching, lets you stay close. says nothing else.

drummer!sukuna who’s weirdly good at remembering the smallest things — your favorite energy drink, how you like your eggs, the exact way you complain when your shoes hurt. he won’t mention it, but he’ll hand you a new pair of insoles one day and mutter, “stop limping. you sound pathetic.”

he looked it up. measured your size. didn’t sleep until he found the exact brand you liked.

drummer!sukuna who doesn’t flirt with you like gojo would. no pickup lines, no charm. just rough hands on your hips when you walk past, or a lazy “you look good in that” when you’re not even trying.

once, you asked him what he liked about you.

he looked at you for a long time, then said, “you don’t bullshit me.” that was it. and that was everything.

drummer!sukuna who drags you into his lap during rehearsal breaks, makes a scene about it like he’s doing it just to be a dick. “you’re in my spot,” he mutters, tugging you down. “move or stay, i don’t care.” you stay. obviously. he smells like smoke and sweat and black fabric softener. you fall asleep on him once. he doesn’t move the whole time.

drummer!sukuna who doesn't take selfies, doesn’t post much, doesn’t care about online attention. but he has exactly one photo of you as his lock screen. took it when you weren’t looking. your face half-hidden in his hoodie, holding one of his drumsticks and pretending to be tough.

“you’re a loser,” you told him when you saw it.

he replied, “yeah. but you’re mine.”

drummer!sukuna who never says “i love you.” not out loud. but he brings you backstage passes even when you say you’re too busy. stocks your fridge when you’re sick. lets you wear his rings, his shirts, his hoodie with the hole in the cuff. he watches you from the crowd when he’s not playing, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

he’ll never be soft in public. but if he trusts you, if you’re real with him, he’s loyal in a way that scares even him.

[chrisstvrns]

⌞chris fingering you in the elevator after a day out in tokyo⌝ ⸝⸝

warnings: fingering, public sex, elevator sex, no actual p in v, established relationship, soft dom!chris, lmk if i missed anything

word count: 691

you and the triplets had been out since 8 am. its now nearly 6 pm, and about an hour ago, you and chris ditched nick and matt, going out to explore the city on your own. japan was beautiful, but the ten hours of walking around nearly killed you. nick and matt were who knows where, while you and chris retreated back to the hotel. 

you were both absolutely exhausted, standing in the softly lit lobby. you leaned into chris’s side as you waited for the elevator. his hoodie smelled like sweat and his cologne. your arms brushed. his hand was low on your back, thumb tracing circles through your shirt.

the elevator chimed. the big, metal doors slid open. you stepped inside first, pressing the button to your floor. chris followed wordlessly. the second the doors closed, the silence turned heavy.

"god," he murmured, his voice low and rough, "you’re driving me insane."

you turned just slightly, enough to catch the way his eyes trailed down your neck, your lips. his fingers slid down your arm, slow and deliberate. he stepped into your space, crowding you against the mirrored wall.

“chris,” you whispered, breath catching.

he didn’t answer at first. just leaned in, nose brushing your cheek. “you have no idea how long i’ve been thinking about this,” he breathed. one hand gripped your hip. the other curled into your hair. “you looked so good today. couldn’t stop staring.”

you gasped softly when he kissed you. deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world, even though the elevator ticked steadily upward. your fingers twisted into his shirt. the city buzzed outside, but in here it was just him. just the heat between you.

his hands wandered. down your waist, over your lower back, pressing you closer. your body fit perfectly against his, warm and familiar, like he’d been craving this all day. his kisses turned needier, messier. his breath hitched when you tugged lightly at his hair.

his mouth dropped to your jaw, then your neck, open-mouthed and hot. you gasped, your back arching against the mirror as he licked and sucked at the skin just below your ear, like he wanted to leave a mark. his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. your legs wrapped around his waist without a thought.

“fuck,” he muttered against your throat, grinding into you. “you feel so good.”

your head tipped back with a quiet moan, the cool glass behind you doing nothing to ground the heat pooling low in your stomach. his hoodie had ridden up, hands slipping underneath to touch skin. your waist, your ribs, thumbs brushing just under the edge of your bra.

“need to touch you,” he whispered, voice thick. “let me?”

you nodded quickly, breathless. “yes, please.”

he didn’t waste time. one hand slid between your bodies, under your waistband, fingers finding how wet you already were for him. he groaned low, forehead pressed to yours. “fuck, baby.”

his fingers moved slow but firm, teasing, circling, stroking. you clung to him, hips twitching with every movement, your soft gasps filling the elevator. his mouth found yours again, swallowing every sound, tongue tangling with yours as he worked you open with skilled fingers.

he continued thrusting his long, slender fingers in and out of your tight hole, his thumb circling your clit. 

you were close embarrassingly fast, thighs trembling around his hips, nails digging into his shoulders. “chris, i’m gonna, fuck, m’so close”

“i know,” he panted, pressing deeper. “cum for me. right here, baby. let me feel it.”

your orgasm crashed over you with a quiet cry, biting into his shoulder to muffle it. he held you through it, kissing you slow and soft, his hand still between your legs, drawing it out.

he slowly removed his fingers from your soaked pussy, bringing them to his mouth, licking an sucking them clean. when your breathing slowed and your forehead dropped to his, the elevator chimed.

you both stilled. 

he grinned, breathless, lips brushing yours. “our floor.”

you laughed, weakly. “i can’t feel my legs.”

“good,” he said, kissing you again. “i’ll carry you.”

────────────୨ৎ────────────

aurora's notes: IM ON MY WRITING GRIND OMG

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

[floatmeintothesun-2]

put a bow on it

tags - mark grayson x f!reader, blow jobs, 18+, short drabble

summary - just a little bit of fun between you and mark. You do indeed put a bow on it ;)

cw - MINORS DNI, NSFW CONTENT

—

"This is so stupid."

"No, no, just humor me, babe."

"I did. I am. and now I'm saying it's stupid." Mark huffs crossing his arms and looking away from you. as if that will somehow hide his blush. Embarrassed. When you had brought it up earlier, he had just made a face and shrugged. He’s getting flustered now. You put a hand on his thigh to keep him still and he sighs, letting you do as you want.

And currently, you're doing exactly that. sitting pretty between your boyfriend's spread legs as he reclines back on your couch, hiding the flush on his cheeks with an exasperated hand. his cock is right in front of your face, thick and pretty and dripping with desperation.

Tantalizingly, it twitches in front of your face as you delicately peruse the soft, silk ribbons you bought specifically for this. The ten dollars costed for this was definitely well spent, you think as you lightly wrap a warm palm around him. Your other hand busies itself selecting a ribbon — pale pink and shimmery.

His eye twitches and you suppress a smirk as the muscles in his abdomen flex. Have you mentioned how good he looks? Have you mentioned the way that gorgeous flush compliments his pale features, dusting his cheeks and the tip of his dick?

“This one’s cute, isn’t it?” You ask, and he presses his lips together, eyes narrowing slightly.

“You’re enjoying this too much.” He accuses, not answering your question. Still though, he doesn’t move away as you wrap the thin, flimsy thing around his cock. His adams apple visibly bobs as he wrinkles his nose against the feeling. You coax him from softening with a few gentle pumps, earning a low hum from Mark.

“Maybe.” You acknowledge vaguely, neatly tying off the bow. Cute.

His neglected dick twitches when you press a kiss to the tip, and he inhales slowly. Your hand has never stopped it’s relentless up and down, and you know it’s torturing him. A pink tongue darts out to wet his lips and you hear his breath hitch. Hook.

Slowly, you draw your own tongue in a slow, lazy circle, pushing back the foreskin with a quick thumb. Salty, warm, a little soapy from whatever he used to wash himself — you entertain yourself by slowly moving down the shaft. Your cunt aches with every strained noise that escapes him, and you trace the veins arching up the thick flesh. Up and down you go, neatly avoiding disturbing the little bow. His jaw clenches when you take the tip into your mouth. Line.

“Fuuuck.” He whispers, staring up at the ceiling, hands clenched into the cushions. His hips rock up into your hot mouth, inching into the delicious wet heat that has him shivering. Sends ripples down his spine, electrocutes him from the inside out. His brain feels fried — frizzled. He can’t think about anything but the feeling of your mouth on his cock and that stupid bow on his dick that shouldn’t even be doing anything to him —

Shit. You’ve barely taken more than a couple inches, why is this affecting him so much?? It’s embarrassing, the way you unravel him so easily. Maybe it’s the way you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours. Maybe it’s the way you draw up and down his shaft. Maybe it’s the way you’re reaching down to touch his balls and — oh, oh damn.

Your smile is devilish. Sinker.

Suffice to say, the bow doesn’t survive the way Mark thrusts up into your mouth. Neither does your pussy when it comes to its turn.

—

wowza this was sitting in my drafts since 2023 lol. Sorry for any spelling mistakes, I’m not a native English speaker

[sakuraszn]

﹒♡ MY GIRL ft. jock!katsuki bakugo + cheerleader!reader

cw: making out, mentions of hickeys and jealousy.

jock!bakugo and you are the couple everyone either wants to be or is lowkey jealous of. He’s the star athlete—football, basketball, track, doesn’t matter, he dominates. And you? The head cheerleader, flipping and kicking in a skirt that he thinks is way too short but loves at the same time.

He acts like he doesn’t care about school spirit, but let someone talk crazy about your cheer squad, and he’s ready to square up.

jock!bakugo isn’t the type to outright tell you not to wear something, but his hands are always on your waist, tugging down your skirt or pulling your top up when he thinks it’s too revealing.

If a guy even breathes in your direction, he’s throwing an arm over your shoulder, yanking you close. “She’s taken, dumbass.”

You once got asked to be the flyer for a stunt with some of the male cheerleaders, and Katsuki was NOT having it. “You got plenty of girls to throw you in the air, why the fuck does it gotta be some dude?”

jock!bakugo who loves marking you up. The hickeys? Oh, they’re not just for fun. They’re warnings. Little bruises on your collarbone, right above your uniform’s neckline, just enough for people to notice. He’s not subtle, and he doesn’t care.

jock!bakugo has something about game nights that makes him extra needy. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, the way you scream his name from the stands, or the way your skirt swishes when you cheer. Either way, he’s dragging you into a storage closet under the bleachers every chance he gets.

“Five minutes, babe,” he growls, pushing you up against the shelves, lips already on your neck.

Five minutes turns into ten, into fifteen. His hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your thighs, fingers ghosting under your uniform. Your lip gloss is smeared all over his mouth, and his jersey is bunched up from where you’ve been gripping it.

“You’re lucky I got a game to play, or I’d be doin’ a lot more than just kissin’ ya.” His voice is low, rough, and he gives your thigh a squeeze before pulling back, looking way too smug about how breathless he’s left you.

jock!bakugo who’s not huge on PDA, but he has his moments. An arm slung over your shoulder in the halls, a hand gripping your hip when you’re talking to someone he doesn’t trust, a quick kiss before he jogs onto the field.

jock!bakugo after a big win? Oh, he’s dramatic as hell. Scoops you up right off the ground, plants a deep kiss on you in front of the entire school. “That was for good luck,” he smirks, wiping your lipstick off his mouth.

If he catches some dude getting a little too friendly? He’s stepping in, pulling you into his lap, leaning in just enough to kiss your jaw as he stares the guy down. “The fuck you need, extra?”

jock!bakugo might be an athlete, but he’s got that protective mentality when it comes to you.

“I don’t fight over girls, but I will fight for mine,” he says, cracking his knuckles after some guy tried getting a little too close to you at a party.

He’s got connections—he’s not afraid to remind people of that. Some upperclassman tried to make a move on you once, and let’s just say… dude transferred schools real quick.

He doesn’t do threats; he does promises. “Keep talkin’ and see what happens.”

jock!bakugo after a game, he’s exhausted but still makes time for you. Showers, throws on some sweats, and pulls you into bed like you’re his damn teddy bear.

“Y’cold? C’mere, dumbass,” he mumbles, pulling you tighter against him, his face buried in your neck.

If he’s feeling cocky, he’ll start pressing kisses down your shoulder, hands slipping under your shirt. “You gonna give me a lil’ reward for winnin’, babe?” His voice is rough, teasing, and he’s already leaving marks where only he can see them.

You’re his biggest supporter, his loudest cheerleader, and he makes sure you know he appreciates it.

“Wouldn’t be half as good without you screamin’ my name from the stands,” he mutters one night, hand on your thigh, thumb tracing circles.

And when you compete in cheer competitions? He’s in the front row, arms crossed, acting all nonchalant. But when you hit your routine perfectly? That little smirk of pride on his face says it all.

“You did good, babe. Knew you would.” And then he’s tilting your chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips like he couldn’t help himself.

At the end of the day, jock!bakugo is all yours, and he makes damn sure everyone knows it.

SAKURASZN © 2025 !

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

Shaving him

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the room in a warm glow. Simon sat on a chair in the bathroom, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, watching every movement you made. He was shirtless, wearing just his dark cargo pants. The scars that traced across his chest told their own stories - each one a mark of battles fought and won.

His mask was folded neatly on the dresser. You didn’t get many moments with Simon like this, raw and bare, without the layers he used to keep the world at bay. It made the air feel heavier, charged with the weight of unspoken things.

You climbed onto his lap, straddling him, the shaving cream and razor in hand. He didn’t say a word, just looked up at you with a mixture of amusement and challenge.

“You sure you trust me with this?” you asked, arching a brow as you scooped a bit of the cream onto your fingers.

He tilted his head slightly. “I trust you. But play with the blade near my throat, and I might start getting ideas.”

You smirked. “No pressure, then.”

Spreading the cream across his jaw, you took your time. The rough stubble beneath your fingers was such a contrast to the softness of the moment. You worked slowly, enjoying the way his eyes stayed locked on you. Simon never broke eye contact unless he absolutely had to. It was his way of reading people - and you were the one person he couldn’t seem to look away from.

“Careful,” he murmured, his hands resting loosely on your waist. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Oh, I definitely am,” you teased, dragging your thumb along his jaw. “You rarely let me get this close.”

“Close, huh?” His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk. “I’d say we’re more than close.”

You picked up the razor and leaned in, your face just inches from his. “Stay still, Simon.”

His hands flexed on your hips. “You’re the one making that difficult.”

You started with slow, deliberate strokes, sliding the blade along his jaw. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch - though you could feel the tension humming through him. He was always so controlled, so steady. But something about the way you took your time, the intimacy of the moment, made him feel like a coiled spring.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you said softly, rinsing the razor before starting again.

“Trying not to scare you,” he said, deadpan. “One twitch and I’m the bloke with half a face.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are. Sitting on my lap.” His hands slid a fraction higher on your waist. “Do you have any idea how distracting you are?”

“Distracting?” You tilted your head, brushing your lips over his ear. “I thought I was being very professional.”

“Professional’s not the word I’d use,” he muttered, his voice a little rougher.

You finished the last stroke and set the razor aside. Your fingers trailed over his freshly shaved skin, savoring the warmth and smoothness. “Done.”

Simon leaned back slightly, his gaze still burning into yours. “Are you now?”

“I am.” You grinned. “But you’re looking a little tense.”

“Because you’ve been teasing me for the past ten minutes.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing over the corner of his mouth. “And what are you going to do about it?”

The playful challenge in your voice was all it took. Simon’s hands tightened on your hips, and in a single, fluid motion, he stood, taking you with him. You gasped as your back hit the edge of the bed, but his mouth was already on yours, cutting off anything else you might have said.

The kiss was deep, slow, and thorough - Simon’s way of showing exactly who was in control now. His hands roamed, exploring the curves he knew so well, while your fingers tangled in his hair. He didn’t need words. The way he kissed you, the way he held you, said everything.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his eyes dark with want. “You think I’ll let you tease me and just walk away?”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart pounding. “I was counting on it.”

Simon chuckled - a low, dangerous sound. “Then you’re in trouble.”

And from the look in his eyes, you knew the rest of the morning was far from over.

[f2delity]

My beautiful girl

nsfw

fem!reader x cho hyun-ju

summary: just rough sex with hyun-ju ≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼

author’s note: it's been a while since i wrote, so just bare with me >_< i hope you all enjoy reading this <3

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

As the two of you make out, Hyun-ju pushes your small body against the bedroom door. Her larger body pressed up against yours, one of her hands around your neck as she slid the other down your body; admiring your curves and every inch of your body. Her and your tongues danced in each other’s mouths, then suddenly she moved both of her hands on the curves of your waist and proceeded to lift you. Your legs wrapped around her waist and she pulled her lips away from yours, a line of saliva leaving from your lips. 

“What?” you asked her.

She wipes the saliva away from your lips and smiles, “Nothing, sweetheart.” she replies. 

She moved your hair to the side and placed gentle pecks along your neck, marking what was hers and only hers. Nobody else could have you; you only belonged to her. If anyone else even tried to steal you away from her, she made sure that the person knew you two were together. 

She proceeded to travel back up to your lips and softly kissed you.

“You’re so beautiful, my beautiful girl..” she whispered as she used her hand to turn the doorknob to open the bedroom door.

After she was able to open the bedroom door, she carried you in and placed her hands on the hem of your shirt, letting you know that she wanted to remove it from your body. You nodded your head, giving her consent and she instantly removed your shirt; now throwing it onto the bedroom floor. 

Before placing you down on the bed, she unclasped your bra and carefully placed it on the nightstand next to the bed. She then gently placed you down on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath the combined weight of the two. The woman proceeded to push her pants down, revealing her aching cock in front of you. You looked up at her, knowing that you’d have to take the entire length of her inside you; the ten inches. 

“Let your girlfriend take care of you now..” she cooed, as she spread your legs. Seeing your pussy dripping already, wanting to fuck you immediately. She positioned the head of her cock at your entrance; feeling the wetness instantly. As she began to push forward, making sure she was extremely careful until she was seated fully inside you. 

She proceeded to move, rocking her hips against yours; starting in a slow rhythm. 

You wrapped your legs around her hips as she picked up the pace, you tried to place your hands in her hair but she grabbed them and pinned them back above your head; making sure you had nothing to hold onto. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out.

Hyun-ju couldn’t help but smirk, making her pick up the pace more. The head of her cock kissing the sweet spot inside you with every thrust. If anyone had arrived at their place, all they would hear were the sounds of their lovemaking; the breathy, needy noises escaping from your lips as you tried to hold back, as the bed was creaking. 

“You feel so good,” Hyun-ju murmured. “My beautiful, messy girl..”

She placed her hand on top of your belly, pressing down on it gently to feel how deep she was inside you; causing you to gasp and throw your head back against the pillow. Your walls tightened around her big, thick cock as she kept pounding into you. She could tell you were close, hearing each gasp get louder while the head of her cock kept kissing your g-spot.

You looked deep into her eyes, you could tell she was close too. Hyun-ju gritted her teeth as she tried to hold herself back from releasing inside you. Her body hovered over yours, as she leaned down; deeply kissing you while the pad of her thumb hovered over your clit. She pressed her thumb on your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion; helping you reach your climax. 

Her groans grew louder with every thrust, the telltale tightening of her balls; now pounding deep into you with deep, powerful thrusts that shook the bed and left you breathless. Not even a minute goes by, she feels you coming down beneath her; your pussy clamping down around her cock as you let go. She could feel your warm juices coating her cock, she couldn’t control the sensation; she instantly spilled inside you and slowed down the pace. Helping you ride your climax until she came to a complete stop. 

“Shit,” she breathed out as she wrenched her hips back, removing her aching cock from the heat and wetness of your pussy. Thick ropes of seed traveled dripped from the swollen head as she looked down and saw the juices from the two leave your throbbing entrance. 

She let go of your hands, no longer pinning them above your head, and kissed you softly. 

“I’m sorry beautiful,” she said in embarrassment, she didn’t know what to do in that situation after spilling herself inside you. 

You moved her hair to the side, tucking it behind her ear, and smiled at her. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured her. 

“Everything will be okay, I promise.” You told her.

She lay beside you, and you carefully placed your head against her chest. Your breathing finally returned to its normal pace and you placed your hand on her heart, feeling her heart rhythm return to normal. 

“I love you, my sweet girl.” She whispered.

You gently kissed her neck, “I love you too.” You replied.

Now resting in her arms after the intense love-making with her, you began to close your eyes; falling asleep peacefully.

[pacofprunes]

THANOS & NAMGYU NONCON HEADCANONS

WARNINGS — noncon fucking everything, drugging, i mean it’s fucked up obviously, thanos & namgyu seperate headcanons

THANOS

never in a million years did he think he’d end up in a scenario like this. he’s had tiny thoughts of doing such things when he’s gotten rejected, but now that he’s actually doing it, oh he fucking loves it.

loves to manhandle you. holding your wrists tightly in one hand, forcing your legs around his neck, having the absolute tightest grip on your hair, he absolutely lives for it.

whispers sweet nothings into your ear like this is all normal. cooing at the tears spilling from your eyes.

“no need to cry, i’ll make ya’ feel realllll good.”

marks you up everywhere. hickeys, bites, bites that draw blood, marks and scratches on your hips from his grip on you when trying to keep you from getting away…

definitely slips a pill into your mouth when he kisses you, not pulling away until he knows you’ve swallowed it.

he would love to be able to make you ride him. holding your wrists behind your back while you bounce on him. if you refuse to do so however, he’ll take his other hand and grip your hair, pulling it up as high as possible so you have to make yourself move up to stop the pain and then he just pulls your hair right back down so you smack against his balls. after he’s done that a couple times, he’s sure you’ll decide to just bounce on him without his help.

he takes pictures and videos as a souvenir. presses a deep kiss against you and snaps a picture. he snaps a picture of you on top of him while he has the tightest grip on your wrists. films a slow video showcasing all of the marks littering your body before debating weather or not to post it to his highlights or his private story.

loves slapping your pussy and cupping it in his hands. it makes you flinch away from his dick and right back down on it, doing the work for him. makes his dick twitch so much.

occasionally he likes to let go and let you try to push him away, knowing all of your efforts will be futile. it makes him laugh. but don’t push him too much. if you hit him too hard, he might loose that playful fucked up persona and just be straight fucked up, quickly becoming insanely mean. if you slap him a little too hard on the face, oh, you better believe he’s slapping you ten times harder. and as soon as he’s done and the tears slip from your eyes, he cups the red spot on your cheek, giving you a pouty lip.

“baby, shouldn’t have hit me, don’t cry at something you did! you shouldn’t live with regrets.”

this won’t be a one time thing. in fact, he wants to be with you in a relationship. it’ll probably end after like three months until he misses the times like this and forces you back in him, but this is not the last time you’ll see him. he might even rent out a hotel for a week and force you to stay there with him within those days. he’ll let you leave after the weeks up and his moneys all out, but he’s still going to stay glued to your side. makes you introduce him to your parents like he’s this perfect boyfriend when really he’s made your life a living hell and you want nothing more than to get away from him. if you tell anybody what he’s doing, the next time that he takes a quick photo with his hands wrapped around your throat, he’ll be sure to keep them there instead of letting go. you won’t even get to tell your poor family goodbye.

NAMGYU

he doesn’t particularly have fantasies of doing shit like this, but he can’t handle rejection. he’s thinking of you the rest of the night, thinking about how much of a bitch you were for saying no to him and pushing him away, his friends teasing him and pissing him off even more causes him to go through and fuck you out of your mind weather you want him to or not.

he definitely drugs you. slipping a pill that he honestly barely knows what it is into your drink. the moment he notices you have a bit of a wobble in your step he pulls you away from everyone around, leaving you oh so vulnerable to him.

he has a hand on your mouth the entire time (or his dick in it.) he doesn’t feel like listening to you bitch.

loves seeing your tears and the fear in your eyes. he hopes he fucks you up for the rest of your life. hoping that if a guy you hate asks you out, you’ll think twice about rejecting them and saying no, remembering this moment.

he doesn’t feel like having to hold you down. he wants to press his hand into your hips while the other remains on your lips, so he just gives you a simple threat.

“there’s a knife in my back pocket, i’m sure you don’t want me to use it, right? right, so i’d suggest you don’t hit me or push me away and we’re all good.”

sure he knows with the drugs in your system that your hits will do no harm to him, but he doesn’t care. don’t piss him off and maybe you’ll live and give him another chance to do this to you. also, he probably doesn’t even have a knife in his back pocket, but you didn’t need to know that.

tauntingly licks every tear that rolls down your cheek and onto his hand as he slams his hips against you, sending a taunting smirk your way.

also takes pictures and videos as a little souvenir. shoves the camera all in your face, making sure the flash is on while he adds commentary in the back.

“look at this dirty slut cryin’ all over my dick,”

“pulled me away from my friends and begged me to fuck her brains out, ain’t that right?”

of course you couldn’t respond, but so what? he simply starts laughing when you try to shake your head no. but he easily puts an end to that as he presses his palm even harder against your face, practically putting all his weight on it, threatening to break a tooth to keep you from moving your head an inch. it makes you want to reach out and stop him by grabbing his arms, but what if he really had a knife in his pocket? he told you not to touch him…

he’s a dick usually because his friends are around and he wants to impress them, but now he’s a dick to prove something to himself, to prove something to you. if you had just said yes, he’s sure he would’ve been nicer, and he lets you know that, throwing all the blame onto you.

“this is your fault you know? i asked you nicely, but you just had to be a giant bitch about it. those tears ain’t for me, they’re for your stupid decisions.”

definitely chokes you as he starts to cum in you, the end of your assault nearing. you poor thing, still so scared he’s gonna kill you that the moment you reach your hands up to stop him, you let them droop back down to your sides. the drugs already clouded your vision, the choking just darkened it even more.

when he’s done he zips his pants up before pulling yours up and dragging you up to standing. he pulls you back inside the club to where his friends were, pressing a kiss against your neck in front of them.

“just had the time of our lives, didn’t we baby?”

you just nod your head as well as you can, it getting heavier and heavier by the minute. bragging to his friends about how they clearly shouldn’t have doubted him. he throws you on a chair somewhere and goes about his night. if some other guy wanted to have a turn with you, he gave them all the tools they needed. wasn’t his problem any longer!

he expects that next time he sees you at a party (or somehow in public) and he asks to fuck, you won’t say no. don’t make it any harder than it needs to be.

[dazzlingjaeyun]

hard thought !! nerdy!jake with glasses pls pls pls

bye omg i love jake with glasses and i love you (and this accidentally turned into 835 words sorry)

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧

"jakey," you hum against your boyfriend's now swollen lips after pulling away from another kiss. his fingers are digging into your skin a little too hard, nails surely leaving crescent shaped marks on your bare thighs that are straddling his lap.

the way he just confusedly looks at you through his slightly fogged up glasses draws a chuckle from you. "you're hurting me, love."

he loosens his grip almost immediately, softly massaging the skin instead. "sorry, pretty girl," he mumbles as he pushes your skirt up another inch just to place his hands on your ass and push you closer.

"someone got a little carried away, hm?" you ask with a grin, detangling one of your hands from his hair and pushing his glasses back up on his nose bridge.

he blushes ever so slightly, the prettiest shade of pink adorning his cheeks, yet he returns a grin that looks unusually cocky. "says the one that couldn't stop looking at my hands when she should have paid attention to what i was explaining?"

this time, it's your turn to blush. "but physics is so boring," you say with a slight pout. "and you're," you scoot closer, "so", your hand moves to the back of his head again, "annoyingly hot." you slightly tug on his hair, just enough to tilt his head back a little so he's forced to look at you instead of your, fairly speaking, way too low-cut shirt, "and my eyes are up here, baby. who's not paying attention now?"

he tightens his grip again, pushing you forward just enough for you to feel his length hardening. "for the record, you're always ruining my focus," he replies casually. "did i tell you you're the only thing that's made all the science stuff feel kinda irrelevant?"

although his words make you snort, they somehow also warm you heart – but you swear they're not the reason you clench around nothing. that has to be the outline of his now perfectly hard cock pressing against you.

"jake, that's not what you say in a situation like this," you try to deadpan, but your voice comes way shakier than planned.

"you sure?" he asks, squeezing the flesh of your ass once more before sliding his hands up to your hips and pushing you away to reveal the slightly darker spot on his gray sweatpants. "cause your body's reaction kinda says otherwise. so soaked you ruined my pants too?"

before you can respond, his hands are roaming your body again, not rushed but with urgency. he pulls you closer, leaves gentle kisses across your jawline, your neck and down to your collarbones – sucking and nibbling on your skin just enough to leave some light marks. but right when you press against him harder, he pulls away, lips brushing your neck as he speaks, "also, statistically, you–"

"jake," you interrupt, but he continues, "i'm just saying that 9 out of 10 times, you–"

"jaeyun," you say more firmly, "i love you, but for god's sake. shut up."

he looks at you for just the blink of an eye. and then, before you know it, your back is pressed into the mattress, your boyfriend hovering over you, using one hand to hold himself up and the other to pin your wrists above your head.

"but if i shut up, who's gonna tell you that your heart rate increases by about ten beats when i kiss you here?" he places one proving kiss right at the most sensitive spot on your neck.

"or that your body temperature rises by probably almost a full degree when i touch you here," he lets go of your wrists, instead trailing his fingers up your inner thigh until he reaches your core.

"and that your pupils widen, like, approximately half a second before you moan?" and as if to back up his claim, he slides your underwear to the side, just so he can gently press his thumb against your clit. he watches your face, grinning when he's proven right.

"also," he traces his middle finger down to your entrance, still rubbing his thumb over your clit in soft circles, "your breathing changes when i do this." he slowly pushes the digit in, "one deep breath and then two shallow ones."

you reach for the collar of his shirt, half to ground yourself, half to pull him down, angling your head up for a kiss that you too quickly break away from with a quiet gasp as he curls his finger just right to hit your sweet spot.

"and that just proved another theory," he murmurs, voice slightly hoarse. instead of replying, you just reach out to push his glasses up again, holding his gaze while he looks at you like he studies you. and although you'd love to complain about how his random rambles about the laws of physics could really kill the mood for you sometimes, at the end of the day, your boyfriend in fact got your body down to a science <3

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2025. please do not copy.

[sourkiki]

CHANGE OF PACE

VOL. 15: your boyfriend wants you to take charge for today. it went even better than you expected.

wc: 1259 𑁛 explicit mature content established relationship sub! 이희승 x dom! fem! reader bondage usage of 'good boy' pussy eating ⪩⪨ foot job heel kink (i think) ❀ catalogue

note. trying a new post format... and this is once again, a repost from my previous account. live love laugh sub hee. this is for you @chuhees ><

You didn’t expect this to happen. This means having your beloved and sweet boyfriend willingly on his knees, hands tied behind his back with a red rope wrapped around his wrists. You didn’t want to tie it too tight—in fear of hurting him but if anything, Heeseung was persistent. It took him a solid five minutes for him to finally convince you to tighten the rope, not tight enough to leave marks behind but tight enough for it to hurt when he tried tugging at it. 

About ten minutes ago, you were seated on his lap, sharing lazy, languid kisses with one another. Sometimes, both of you are in the mood to wind down and savor the time you have together, not having any intentions of rushing it. You had hummed into Heeseung’s bruised lips when he nipped at your lips, igniting sparks of pleasure that ran down your spine. The both of you were practically breathing into one another’s mouth but you didn’t care. 

“Princess, I have an idea,” he murmured against your lips, hand already slid underneath your oversized shirt to trace random patterns on your spine, causing your hair to stand upright. 

“What is it?” You asked, having to be the one to break the kiss when Heeseung kept kissing you, eliciting a soft laugh from you when he whined; disappointed at the sudden distance. 

“..I want you to take control,” he said and you stared at him, stunned. 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind but I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable—” You started rambling, only for Heeseung to shush you by resting his finger on your lips. 

“I’m sure and I know you won’t hurt me,” he reassured you. Which brings you to your current situation. 

You have to admit, you felt powerful, like you have the upperhand. Looking down at your boyfriend who’s still on his knees, eyes fixated on you—waiting for you to do something, anything. You scanned him from head to toe, noting how the black collar wrapped around his neck, along with a long black leash made him look more like a pet than anything else. Pursing your lips in a straight line, you stood before him, your towering figure casting a shadow over his kneeled form. 

A coy, sly smile stretches across your face from ear to ear. “You like this, don’t you? You like feeling helpless, like a little deer.” You leaned down to whisper to him, lips purposely grazing against the sensitive skin of his ear, making him shakily exhaled. 

“P-Please,” he whined, instinctively flinching when you raised your left leg, only for you to rest the tip of your red Christian Louboutin on his already formed bulge, poking out from the constraints of his sweatpants. 

You gave a light tug on the leash held in your left hand when you saw him trying to move his hips upward—searching for any signs of friction, drawing a whimper from Heeseung at the sudden jolt. Clicking your tongue, you grabbed his face, two hands on both sides of his cheek and coos at the sight of his teary, pleading doe-like eyes.

“Look at you, I haven’t even done anything and you’re already like this. Maybe I should let you cum just from this,” you emphasized on the last word, lightly pressing your heel down on his clothed cock. 

Heeseung cried out when you dug your heel further into his bulge, twisting your feet in just the right angle, making stars explode behind his eyes. He wasn’t sure where to go—backward or forward. He doesn’t know if he wants to chase after the delirious feeling or move away. He should feel embarrassed with how he’s enjoying this but with how his muscles tightened and he could feel his orgasm coming, he threw the rest of his sanity out of the window. Instead, Heeseung ended up canting his hips upward, moaning at how heavenly your heel felt against his cock, through the fabric of his sweatpants. 

You laughed, mocking him as you used a little more force to tug on the leash, pulling him forward slightly. The slight movement allows Heeseung to practically hump your heel, acting like a dog in heat. 

“You gonna cum?” You asked at the sight of his movements growing sloppy. 

Your boyfriend frantically nodded his head, eyes already dazed and half-lidded. He parted his lips, about to say something, only for him to hiss when you abruptly grabbed a fistful of his hair, cranking his head backwards. You took the opportunity of him being surprised to spit into his parted mouth. Heeseung greedily swallowed, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. That was enough for him to cum in his pants, leaving a stain behind that acts as solid proof. 

He slumped forward, about to face-plant into your stomach but you stopped him. Heeseung raised his head, gulping at how your eyes darkened a shade. He swore you resembled the Devil himself, with how you were smirking down at him. 

“Don’t think this is over, Heeseung. You haven’t made me cum yet. If you want to be a good boy, you should make me cum first,” you demanded, making his mouth water at the thought of being able to taste you. 

“Please, w-wanna make you cum,” he begged, and who were you to deny him of what he wants? 

With one hand still holding onto the leash, you used your free hand to pull your shorts and soaked panties down, grinning at how Heeseung couldn’t look away from the free show you were giving him. He looked at you, impatient and when he was granted permission, he moved forward on his knees. You slung your right leg over his shoulder, hand now loosely resting in his hair. 

Your head tipped backward when Heeseung buried his face in your leaking, pulsating cunt. His tongue darts out, alternating between kitten-licks and slow, fat stripes along your puffy folds, giving you whiplash. Tremors ran through your body at how the tip of his nose pressed against your clit, eliciting breathless moans from you. 

“F-Fuck, that’s it. Such a good boy, aren’t you?” You breathed out, looking down, audibly groaning at how Heeseung was looking at you with his face buried between your legs. He looked like he had entered Heaven, with how his eyes rolled to the back of his head as you leaked onto his greedy tongue. 

Lewd sounds of slurping and both of your moans echoed amongst the four walls of your room. Your legs buckled at a particular harsh suck to your bud, making you bent forward as you cried out in pure pleasure. You cum with a vice-like grip on Heeseung’s hair, tugging on it like it was your final lifeline. You nearly collapsed to the ground, if he didn’t steadied you with his hands gripping your thighs. 

Heeseung moved his face away, revealing him drenched with your slick. His lips glistened underneath the ceiling light and the tip of his nose shone. He licks his lips, moaning at the sweet, intoxicating taste of you on his tongue. 

“Fuck, you taste amazing as always,” he murmured. 

Rolling your eyes, you moved on shaking legs to untie the rope, letting it fall to the ground. You yelped when your world spun as you landed on your bed, with Heeseung hovering over you, the red rope now held in his hand. 

“It’s your turn now, darling. Don’t think I’m going easy on you,” he coos, and you knew you’re in for a long, long night…

tag list: @chuhees, @byshens, @hoonstqr, @doucious, @emisluvr, @riqomi, @onlyywwon, @jjung-v, @jun2ki, @rikisoup, @jaylaxies

[ririglow]

I K N O W , B A B Y

pairing: david corenswetclark kent x fem!reader

genre : smut, soft dom clark, emotional, crying during sex, comfort, black reader,

summary: he told you he could be gentle—but you didn’t know it would feel like this

word count: 800+

It started on a sweltering summer evening.

Your apartment was warm with the fading sunlight just the tail end of the golden hour spilling through your sheer curtains, covering the majority of your living room with soft amber. The windows cracked open, and somewhere in the distance you heard the occasional beeping of traffic down below, you didn’t mind it though as you were barefoot in the kitchen, making refreshing lemonade on this particular hot day.

Your hair swinging as you move around in your kitchenette humming to yourself, one shoulder strap of your sundress sliding down. Unbeknownst to you, Clark watched you from the couch, his work shirt half unbuttoned, eyes soft behind his glasses. Which were sliding down his nose as his jaw tightened. He hasn’t said a word in ten minutes— not since you walked in from your hair appointment with that mini sundress, clinging to all the right places and those freshly beaded braids catching his attention.

You didn’t think much of it. You were used to the way he watched you. Gentle. Quiet. Like he was trying to memorize you. Especially when you have a new hairstyle.

But when you passed him to retrieve your phone from the coffee table, brushing his knee slightly, you heard the little sound he made. Low in his chest, like his restraint is unraveling.

“Come here,” he said quietly, patting his lap when you were going to pass him again back toward the kitchen.

“What, right now?” You chuckled, as you were planning on finishing up your task in the kitchen.

“Right now.” He confirms.

And something in his voice, low, calm, and certain made your stomach flutter. You stepped in between his legs, his large hands coming to hold your waist like a magnet. Warm, strong, and soft all in one.

“You look so good, baby,” he murmured, sliding one hand up your back, fingers brushing the beads of your braids.”You have no idea what you do to me in this dress, I’ve been trying to contain myself,”

Your breath hitches when his hands move down your back slowly until they settle on your ass giving it a generous squeeze.

And that’s what set it off….

Now you're on his lap bouncing up and down viciously as you try to think straight when the man below you appears to be in heaven as he lets out back to back grunts and moans. His thumbs are pressed to your waist, calloused but careful, guiding your hips up and down on his length like he’s scared he’ll lose himself if he stop.

The unfinished lemonade sat on the counter long forgotten as another high pitched moan leaves your lips. The soft slap of skin fills your tiny apartment but all you hear is his voice—deep, whispery, so full of awe it makes your stomach flutter.

“You’re so beautiful like this, baby,” Clark murmurs, eyes locked on where your sundress bunches around your hips, your plush thighs flexing as you move, he also catches the tiny stretch marks that scatter on around your waist and lower stomach. “So damn beautiful”

You opened your eyes to see nothing but pure adoration in his eyes,the beads in your braids click softly with every roll and bounce of your body, swaying in rhythm with the deep strokes that have you whimpering. So much that one tear slips out of your eye, down your cheek, and Clark immediately sees it.

“Hey—hey, look at me,” he says gently, sitting up slightly to wrap his arms around your waist. “You okay? Do you want to stop?”

You didn’t expect to cry. You really didn’t.

But something about the way he’s touching you, looking at you as if you were the greatest thing on earth has your chest tight and eyes glossed over. Along with the fact that he’s already made you orgasm twice before, the pleasure overwhelmingly has your body ready to go for another.

You nod, choking out a breath as you slowly grind down on him, chasing that heat again.”it’s just—it’s so much,” you whisper, voice cracking. “You’re so.. deep and—“

“I know, baby. I know” he breathes, peppering little kisses along the space between your breasts.” You’re doing so good. I got you. You don’t gotta do anything but feel me,okay?”

You nod again, tears blurred your vision, and he grabs hold of your waist again leaning back on the couch and firmly guiding along his soaking length. His eyes dark behind his glasses which were slightly foggy, his dark curly hair is in a disarray after running your hands through it so many times.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, acrylics scraping at his skin as you hold on him as if you're scared he’ll stop.

“Don’t, stop” you whisper as you tossed your head back. Followed by tiny whimpers.”Please, don’t—“

“Shh, i'm not going anywhere,” he says, he pulls you back to have your forehead pressed against his. “ You feel so good, I couldn’t stop even if I tried.”

Your body trembles from the intensity as he looks into your eyes not missing the way your lashes are wet from your tears and how smudged your lipgloss is from the passionate kisses exchanged between you two. In that moment he felt like the luckiest man in the world to have someone who looks heavenly right there in his arms.

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Magic Mouth

Ellie Williams x Reader

Smut w no plot

Warnings: Sex (durr): fingering, praise, thigh-riding, ass gripping/slapping, pussy slapping, biting, oral, (r! receiving) and scratching. (e!receiving)

A/N: I have so many ideas. Omg. Watch me go into writers block. 😐😐😐😐

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

You were sat on the couch, legs spread as you straddled your girlfriend’s thigh. Completely bare and naked, a towel under the two of you to prevent making a mess. Ellie’s warm hands gripped your hips, guiding you to rub your clit against her skin and you couldn’t keep yourself from the lewd noises that escaped your wet lips.

Heart pounding, breath heavy, you’ve been making out with your girlfriend for about ten minutes now. Her tongue never seemed to get enough, always desperate for more contact. Ellie was a needy ‘fucker, wanting to feel your heated skin everywhere as she had you press your chest against hers. Arching into her touch, you could feel her heartbeat. It was fast as ever, skipping a few beats occasionally. She even let slip, barely audible, whimpers and whines, each one sent a jolt to your core.

“You’re too sweet..” She whispered out. You, gasping for air, pull back to find her completely into it. Brows furrowed, eyes low and dark with her lips soaked. Spit ran down to her chin before she wiped it off with that veiny hand of hers. The one she could make you scream with. Before you could respond, her lips crashed against your neck and you immediately responded with a soft, whiny moan. “Damn responsive, aren’t ‘cha?”

Yeah, and what about it? It wasn’t only the fact that her teeth were biting into your flesh, sucking it and marking you off as hers, it was the sensation between your thighs that made you weak and vulnerable. The feel of Ellie’s warm thigh against your dripping cunt. You could feel the pulse, the throb. You needed more than this sweet friction, you needed rough and fast.

Your hips continuing their sway, Ellie’s hands travelled to your ass and gripped. Tightly and Firmly. Still guiding you, she made you fasten your grinding. The sensation then hit you, your head lowered to find your girlfriend’s lips closed around your nipple. Her cheeks flushed as she sucked and bit down, causing you to gasp in pain and pleasure. Digging into her shoulders with your nails, you watched as she worked. It was different than just feeling. The way her green eyes locked onto yours, showing you she was enjoying this just as much you were. It was thrilling.

Every touch sent a shiver down your spine, even to your heated core. Then, before you could see it coming, you let out a cry. The intensity of the shock travelled through every nerve of your body, it would last for a few seconds. Hips shuddering as you lowered your head to rest against the side of your girlfriend’s. Arms wrapped around her neck as you scratched your nails onto her back. She didn’t stop her play with your bud, her tongue coming to feel around until you slowly came back from your orgasm. As if it didn’t hurt, Ellie chuckled with satisfaction before gripping your waist and laying you down on your back.

As she hovered over you on one muscular arm, her lips curled into a smile as she watched your face. Staring at every detail on it, pleasure evident with your rosy cheeks, parted lips, lidded eyes, and heavy breathing. You were gorgeous, and she adored every inch of you. Inside and out. Although you loved how observant she was, it made you self conscious. Fidgety and nervous at the thought of Ellie noticing your flaws— which, there were none of.

Lowering herself, your girlfriend’s freehand travelled down to your cunt. Spreading your legs before placing her two fingers to your entrance. “You have.. absolutely no idea how pretty you are..” Her words were full of pure adoration and lust. With a nervous smile, you, again, wrap your arms around her neck and kiss your way up to her jaw. “Mm..” Was her hummed out response. Right before her slender fingers shoved into your cunt, leaving you to gasp and hold tightly.

“Keep doing that..” She whispered out, and you did exactly that, sucking onto the skin of her neck as Ellie’s fingers curled into you and hit your weak spot. That heavenly feeling of your g-spot being rubbed against, it was too good. So much so that you were moaning like crazy, soft curses rolled off your tongue.

“There you go, you’re being so good for me..” She praised, excitement in her voice as she burried her face into your neck. Inhaling your sweet, yet bold, scent. You couldn’t keep it together.

Sex was quick with Ellie, your orgasms were like a electricity, intense, like nothing you’d ever experienced before. “Ellie.. fuck, I’m close..” Every rub, every curl of her fingers sent a sensation through you. Not to mention the way she was breathing against your neck, distractingly adding to the pleasure of it all. To the thrill of it all.

“Just a little longer, can you do that, Baby?” Words mumbled out, “Hold on me for me?..” The living room’s silence was broken by you, Ellie, and the sound of your wet cunt. You sounded like macaroni. How could you not listen to your girlfriend when she had that soft yet dominating tone. It, almost, made you cum.

“Yeah, yeah.. I can do that..” Restraint and desperation in your tone as you spoke, your nails were beginning their dig into your girlfriend’s flesh. You felt her smile from your neck.

Your retraints were tested when Ellie’s fingers fastended and rubbed harder. Too hard. It made your eyes roll back and you found yourself biting down into her shoulder. Nails scratching her back further as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, tipping into a trance of pleasure and shock. You tried your best to keep your orgasm back, but as soon as Ellie’s teeth sunk into your neck you couldn’t anymore.

With your nails running down her back, face burried into her shoulder, and your body writhing, you had disobeyed your girlfriend. Slowly but surely you realized you’d came, without permission. With a slap on your cunt, an arm wrapped around your waist before she pullled you flush against her chest. “So?.. now we’re doing what we want?” Her voice lower, it held a hint of.. something and it made your shiver. “Ell-“ “I wanna do what I want.” She interrupted, “You wanna be real bold, don’t ya’? I can be just as bold back.”

With that, she pulled you to straddle her lap. It was a quick and effortless movement, causing you to squeak. Ellie, laying on the couch, gave you a pat. “On my face, c’mon.” Her demand was making you nervous, flustered. Hesitantly, you shifted to where your pussy was to her mouth. You’d left her lap wet with your cum. “Mm, atta girl.” As embarrassing as it was to sit on your girlfriend’s face, you’d found out it was her favourite position. The way she’d grip your thighs, ass, even your tities. The way she’d humm out in praise and worship. Don’t get yourself started on the way she glared at you while her tongue slid into your cunt.

Well, that’s exactly what she was doing now. Veiny hands gripping the sides of your thighs, her tongue delved deep into you before her lips curled around your clit. Sucking, nipping, and even teasing. With nothing to hold onto, you were forced to lean backwards and keep yourself stable with the help of your sore, weak arms. Soon enough, everything around you would come crumbling down. That was all thanks to Ellie’s magical mouth.

“You’re soaked.” She chuckled out, the sound was more of a huff than a solid noise. She wasn’t wrong. Your cum was dripping down her chin and making it’s way onto her neck. God, when did you get so.. sensitive? “All.. thanks to that— ..that mouth..” You smiled out, biting back a moan before meeting Ellie’s green eyes. She shook her head with amusement, completely forgetting you’d just disobeyed her and came without permission.

One thing about Ellie: She couldn’t stay mad at you for longer than ten minutes.

“It’s workin’ real hard, Sugar..” You knew she was trying her best to be.. well, the best. She was the only woman on this earth who could make you cum like the way you were now. And, Ellie was damn proud of that.

“Lemme focus on this makin’ you cum, alright?” Her lips fighting back a smile as your girlfriend continued her journey to making you release.

And, as expected, it didn’t take long for that to happen. With a few minutes of sucking and teasing, you were a writhing mess. Head rolled back as you whimpered out soft curses. The orgasm taking over your vulnerable body.

By the end of it all, your body was worn and dazed. Never did you think you’d so damn lucky with a girlfriend who knows all the right spots to hit. All the spots that get you moaning, whining, even crying.

Oh! And don’t get yourself started on the fact that the only reason you got your nails freshly done was because of Ellie. French tips or not, your girlfriend would pay a million dollars for them. Why? Because she liked being scratched up. Having a part of the lewd moment to carry around and show off.