#like i just want to wander right up to him here slide my arms around his neck as he rests his hands over my hips

[queenimmadolla]

this picture. this is—when i think of eddie???? this picture.

the mischief, the smugness, the raising of a brow, the way he’s fighting a smirk (he fails to keep it off, it comes to fruition in the scene, as we all witnessed), the amount of character in this one frame, this one scene. if i had to pick one picture to convey all of eddie’s essence—it would be this picture.

[rottingpink]

hii 💕I know wildest dreams is a multi but would u be willing to do a pt. 2? like mayb a continuation in the car and then a lil fluff :3 it was soo good <3

wildest dreams ii | multi

cw. cheating (on your part), car sex, fingering, pussy play, degradation, fingering, squirting, crying, OVERSTIMULATION, messy sex, breeding, raw sex

synopsis. the biggest loser at your college takes you, the sweet, taken cheerleader to the backseat of his car while your boyfriend's on the football field.

pt. i here!

main masterlist

he groans lowly and grabs for your waist, tugging you into him and kissing you messily. he doesn't let you catch your breath for a second, merely scooping you up with his hands under your thighs while he carries you, lips on yours, to his car out in the lot behind the football field.

your hands tangle up in his hair while your tongue rolls over his. for someone as strange and unsettling as him, he tastes oddly pleasant, like mint and smoke, and his lips, though chapped, mold on yours so perfectly that it feels like he's made for you. he squeezes your thighs and nips your lower lip, murmuring into your mouth, "you're not walking into that stadium again unless it's with my cum dripping out of you."

you moan into his thought, warm and fuzzy at the idea of him breeding you in the back of his car and making you walk back to the pitch when he's done with his cum stuffed in you and dripping out every step you take.

your arms lace tighter around his shoulders as you go back to kissing him, tilting your head to get the perfect angle of your tongue against his, and your mewls get louder when you do. "mmh, mmh..." you hum softly

his mouth moves against yours urgently, almost as if he's starving. his tongue slides against yours as he walks with you in his arms, slotting into your mouth in messy, wet strokes that make heatwaves travel through your body and pool at your core.

"fuck... tastes like candy..." you can feel how hard he's breathing and he squeezes you tightly like you might run away and never talk to him again after this.

you pull back just enough to breathe and he chases after you, lips dragging down to your jaw, your neck, his mouth warm and frantic. "don't stop," he mumbles against your skin, breath hot, voice wrecked. "give it back t'me. come on, pretty… kiss me again." 

you oblige and shove your mouth back into his just as he reaches his sleek car, and he fists his pocket to find his keys, unlocking it without pulling away from you, and lays you down in the backseat under him with no effort. it smells like cedar and his natural, everyday scent. he doesn't let up off you for a second, already spreading your thighs apart so he can slot his body between your legs.

you're so small underneath him, pliant and needy and reaching up to tug at his clothes and his hair to ground yourself while he strips you fully, not wanting an inch of you covered. he could afford to do so, as his tinted windows and huge body hid you from any passerby that may wander near his car, though he doubts anyone would be anywhere but the game right now. anyone normal, of course. not little brats like you who wanna get pounded in the backseat of some social reject's car. 

he's quick to strip you of every article of clothing on you except for your cute knee high socks and the lacy stretch of your panties, which are now so soaked that they've become sticky and translucent and stick to the plump lips of your pussy. "look at the nasty lil' mess you made." he tuts, voice mocking as his thumb runs over the outline of your cunt through your panties, which makes you jolt and instinctively reach to claw at his hand.

"w-wait! 'm sensitive," you whine, extremely tender from cumming so much already, but he doesn't seem to care at all. he pushes you back into place, grabbing your wrists firmly and pinning them above you with one of his huge hands. "no shying away after you begged me to fuck you like a little whore. you're gettin' what you asked for." he says sternly, still rubbing you through your panties. 

you squirm beneath him, bucking up into his hand before wiggling away due to overstimulation. you don't know if you want more or less. your panties grind against his fingers, and he pushes his fingers up against your panties so your juices squelch and make a huge mess in your underwear.

he drags his thumb up slowly and presses just right against the swollen, soaked outline of your clit through the thin fabric, and you moan, high and whiny. he finally, finally pushes your panties aside, exposing your glistening cunt to the cool air of the car, and his eyes go hazy at the sight of the mess between your thighs. "fuck, you're so pretty down here," he mutters, fingers dipping into your folds, spreading you open with ease. he tosses your panties somewhere in the heap of your clothes at the floor of his car.

his fingers slip through your soaked, swollen folds easily, and he relishes in the little gasp you make as he notches his fingers knuckles deep inside you, twisting and curling his fingers immediately to stretch you out. his eyes are locked on the slick that strings from your pussy to the base of his fingers, and he groans in delight. you're this soaked for him. only him. he swirls his thumb around the tight ring of your asshole in the meantime, not pushing in yet, but to spread your slick around to your other hole too. "mmh, please, 'm sore," you whine, knowing how much you want it anyway.

"shh... you don't want me to stop. look at your pussy, she's gushing. didn't even need to prep you," he mocks, pumping his fingers into you fast and rough, your toes are curling against the leather backseat and your head lolls back, mouth falling open as loud moans leave you. you can't even respond anymore to tell him not to tease you, because your soaked cunt pulses every time he says something mean.

he pushes his fingers down inside you, the pads of his fingers resting still on that sweet spot deep inside you, while he fumbles with his belt and begins to tug down his pants and boxers. but too much pressure on such a sensitive spot inside you, which already experienced so much stimulation is far too much for you. you thrash underneath him, feeling a very odd coiling feeling in your tummy, and also the need to pee...

"w-wait, ngh! take your fingers out, p-please, i think... i think 'm gonna..!"

he ignores you, slipping in a third finger and using all three to push down hard on that spot, and before you can stop yourself, you're gushing around his fingers intensely with a scream so loud he has to let go of your wrists to cover your mouth.

he freezes once you squirt around his fingers which remain buried deeply inside your fluttering walls, and as you gush all over his hand in several hard, uncontrollable pulses, his eyes go wide, pupils blown out, and he leans back slightly to watch. "...oh, fuck."

his voice is quiet at first, like he genuinely can't believe what he just saw.

he looks down at you, eyes flicking from your soaked pussy and thighs to your brightly flushed face, then back to the fucking ruined state of your pussy. "you just..." he breathes, curling his fingers inside you experimentally, which makes you jerk under him and gush a little more around him. he's fascinated. a girl like you can't be real, can you? "...squirted on my fingers."

he doesn't even try to hide how turned on he is. despite cumming earlier from frotting with you back outside behind the bleachers, he's rock hard again, cock bulging at the front of his cum soaked pants. he lifts his soaked hand up and parts his fingers to look at the gooey strings between him, and then pushes two fingers into his mouth, licking at your juices. you squeak, embarrassed beyond belief and red in the face, but still too far gone to tell him how dirty he's making you feel right now.

moaning at your taste, he pulls his boxers down to rest at his knees with his jeans, and his fat cock springs up, swollen and flushed a bright red at the huge, flared tip, with several strings of pearlescent liquid clinging to the fabric of his discarded boxers and more leaking down the shaft. you're both soaked. he lets go of you just long enough to line himself up at your soaked entrance, nudging the tip through your folds and collecting your slick.  his other hand comes up to grab your throat, so he's holding you still, grounding you in place. 

he makes sure to stare into your eyes intently as he slowly sheathes himself inside you. he sinks in slow at first, just the thick, heavy head of his cock pressing into your fluttering hole, and you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck, eyes rolling back, feet digging into the seat.

you whimper, nails scrabbling at his shoulders the second he frees your hands to hold onto your throat and hips. he leans down to kiss you again while you adjust to his size, fat tip swelling at your womb while he rests inside you and swirls his tongue around yours. he starts to move, slow at first, hips rolling, grinding, both of you panting into each other's mouths, your thighs shaking with every bounce. he pulls back just a little to murmur against your lips, "oh fuck, fuck, fuck, you're tight. shit, this pussy's fuckin' choking me."

you cry out under him, overwhelmed by the stretch and the sensation of his thick cock splitting you open inch by inch. it burns, but it's good. your body clenches around him helplessly. "too much... mmmh.... s'too big," you babble, but your hips don't stop moving under him, fucking yourself onto his cock even as tears prick the corners of your eyes.

"yeah?" he groans, fucking you so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach. "but you said please, baby. remember? begged me to fuck you. so take it." he bottoms in and out in rough thrusts that make your whole body jolt, ensuring each thrust has him fully inside you. you're so soaked that he slides in perfectly every time, your walls clinging to him deliciously while his cock also slips inside you with filthy, loud schlick's. he's sliding in like nothing, your walls clenching and sucking him in tighter with every thrust while your slick soaks his shaft. 

the car rocks as he thrusts into you, his cock splitting you open with each thrust deep inside you. your pussy stretches slightly to accommodate to is girth, and he feels his mind numbing at the way your pussy slurps him in with each thrust. he groans loud, head tipping back and his hand squeezing firmer around your throat to make your eyes flutter. not for long, though. he likes to look into your pretty eyes while he ruins you.

"open 'em," he demands, squeezing a little on the sides of your throat to jolt you back to the present. he slams into you with a particularly rough thrust, your tits bouncing and head lolling stupidly at the feeling of being fucked dumb on the school loser's huge fucking dick. "there you go. such a good girl f'me, aren't you?"

"uh... uh... uhhuhhh...." you breathe out stupidly, drool slipping past your parted lips. you're GONE. fully gone. your fingers dig into his broad shoulders and then trail down his body, exploring his broad frame and muscles. before you look back into his eyes. he chuckles, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your swollen lips, the gentleness contrasting the way he's pounding into you and holding your throat. "look at you." he hums. "forgot you're a disloyal little whore, didn't you?"

he snaps his hips up into yours, a small bulge forming in your tummy where he lodges his cock so deep inside you. "or maybe," he sneers, "you just don't care about anything but having your cunt stuffed to the brim."

you cry out, dragging him down so you can bury your face in his neck, and he kisses your jaw, fucking you while laying on top of you. "cum for me again," he demands, lips brushing your temple while his hips roll into yours. your legs tremble and curl around his waist, each thrust making your pussy flutter around him. you try to clamp down on him, but his girth makes it so difficult. 

he's splitting you open with every drag of his cock against your raw, plushy walls. sobbing into his skin, he mumbles filth into your ear while his hands travel down to your waist and he drags your body up effortlessly so his cock is tilted up inside you, the perfect angle for him to hit that same spongy spot inside you over and over, making your mouth drop open in a silent scream. you clamp around him hard, fingernails digging into the firm muscle of his back. the pressure inside you winds tight, tight, tighter...

" 'm cumming!"

you explode around him, pussy convulsing around his cock. your whole body seizes, a strangled moan ripping out of you while you cream around him uncontrollably. 

"fuck, fuck, look at you," he moans, watching your pussy pulse around him, fluttering on his cock like you were made for it. "holy shit, baby."

he pulls out just enough to see your slick gush after him before slamming back in, making you sob. he shoves your thighs up higher, practically folding you in half now, forcing you open wide so he can fuck even deeper. the wet, obscene sound of your cunt sucking him in grows louder with every thrust, echoing in the small space of the car, and he grits out, "you feel that? feel how deep i am? gonna fill you up, fuck, 'm gonna breed you."

your head spins and you nod frantically, moaning out broken, babbled yes's, even as tears slip from the corners of your eyes. 

"fuck, fuck, fuck."

he buries himself to the hilt and cums hotly inside with a deep groan, heavy, fat balls twitching as he empties them deep inside you, so much at once that you can feel your womb filling up to the hilt. he keeps you locked against him so all of it floods inside you. "ngh... 's such a fuckin' perfect pussy," he groans aloud, mouth falling open as he keeps filling you and filling you and filling you until your belly distends just slightly from the volume of his cum.

you're gasping, clinging to him, body limp beneath him while you both ride it out together. he pants into your mouth, breathing hard, kissing you through the aftershocks. his voice is low, barely audible, wrecked. "mine. fuckin' mine. look what you do to me."

he stays inside you, twitching every now and then as your fluttering walls milk him, your slick and his cum seeping out around the base of his cock.

_

you make your way back to the football field with wobbly legs and your cheeks flushed. you tried your best to fix yourself up before going back, raking your fingers through your hair, redoing your mascara and touching up your lip gloss, praying it hides how swollen and red he made your lips.

you put your hair down so any marks on your skin aren't visible, not that your dumbass boyfriend looks at you close enough to be able to tell. the loner's cum is still hot and thick inside you, leaking a little down your inner thighs with every step, wetting the inside of your cheer skirt while the rest pools into fat globs in your panties.

the crowd is screaming loudly and your cheer girls are bouncing and huddled up with the football team. the whole field is lit up in bright stadium lights, and no one is looking around for you right now. you use it as an opportunity to slide in through the back fence and under the bleachers to act like you'd been here the whole time, and you go to where the other cheerleaders are. unfortunately, you weren't as subtle as you thought.

ava, one of the girls in your year that you usually hang out with at lunch squeals and grabs your arm. causing the other girls to quickly turn their attention to you too. "where were you?" she screeches. "coach was looking for you!"

you blink coyly, rubbing the back of your neck to give the impression of being embarrassed. "i just really had to pee," you lie "mid routine, but then i couldn't find the right bathroom, an' i got mixed up and all of them had super long lines, and i'm so sorry, i was literally crying the whole time-" you sniffle. 

the girls coo over you. you're just too sweet and cute to be mad at. so sweet, that no one would ever think you just got fucked in the back of the school loser's car.

then, your boyfriend barrels into you, carrying the unpleasant scent of sweat from the exertion he produced while on the field. he yells your name and picks you up with both arms around your waist, causing a fresh scoop of cum to trickle out of you. you squeak, hoping it's not noticeable, and he spins you in a circle. "there you are!" he shouts, loud and giddy, "my girl! babe, we fucking crushed it!"

he kisses you hard, and you giggle awkwardly, letting him brag about his win like he didn't just get cheated on for the past hour and a half. "i was watching," you lie with a perfect little tilt of your head. "I saw everything! you did so good!."

and that's when he walks up. he stands out of the crowd on his own, mouth red, eyes low, and hair a little mussed. there are faint lipgloss marks on his neck and jaw that he didn't wipe off.

he's walked in like nothing's happened, stopping at the edge of the crowd with his gaze locked on you very blatantly. you stare back while in your boyfriend's arms, and he follows your gaze and scowls quickly, arms tightening around you. "the fuck is that guy looking at?" he snaps, his voice obnoxiously loud. "why is he staring at you like that?"

you blink innocently, letting your eyes go all wide and confused. "who?"

"him," your boyfriend hisses, nodding over your shoulder. "that fucking creep. what the hell is his problem?"

you shrug, still looking at him, not your boyfriend. "um... i dunno... maybe he's high?"

your boyfriend scoffs, and tugs you in closer like he's marking territory. "yeah, well, he can fuck off. that fucking freak's probably just scoping out girls he can perv out on. probably watches porn in his room all day."

he doesn't look away from you, even as your boyfriend runs his mouth. you wonder if he can still smell your perfume on his hoodie. you hug your boyfriend back and lean into him, coaxing him to just leave it. he obliges and carries you back to the crowd to celebrate, and you look over your shoulder one last time to see him finally turn and walk away.

[star-har]

love but in aisle 7

nanami kento x reader | fluff

It starts with a mumble.

“Nanami?”

A sleepy grunt. His arm tightens lazily around your waist.

“I want chocolate-covered strawberries.”

Nanami doesn’t speak right away, just lets out a breath—something between a sigh and a groan—his face buried against the back of your neck. He’s warm, soft, half-asleep, and clearly praying you’re joking.

“God help me,” he murmurs into your skin.

Which is how you end up thirty minutes later in a fluorescent-lit grocery store at 1 a.m., with your very sleepy husband trailing behind you like a badly-dressed zombie, pushing a cart.

Nanami’s in striped, blue pajamas and the first shoes he’d been able to grab on the way out. His hair’s flattened on one side, tousled on the other. He blinks slow, like it takes real effort, and keeps one hand resting lightly on your lower back as you wander down the produce aisle in search of strawberries.

You stop in front of the display, humming, the hoodie-blanket you wear swallowing you whole. “Do you want the pre-dipped ones, or should we do it ourselves?”

He leans against you slightly, head dipping toward your shoulder. “Do it ourselves,” he says, voice rough. “You’ll make it taste better.”

You glance at him with a grin. “How romantic.”

“I’m too tired to lie,” he mutters.

You kiss your teeth and nudge him playfully with your elbow. “You’re such a baby.”

“you’re the one who dragged me out of bed,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist, “so now, my love, you have to deal.”

“Gladly.” You toss the strawberries into the cart. Nanami lets his hand drop to your hip again, thumb brushing circles there as he follows you, silent and calm. That is—until you casually grab a box of Pop-Tarts off the shelf.

He pauses.

“…I thought we were here for strawberries.”

“We are!”

You drop the Pop-Tarts in the cart and keep walking.

Nanami stares at the cart. Then at you.

You grab a pint of ice cream. He squints.

“Wait.”

You turn, completely unfazed. “What?”

His mouth twitches, eyes finally opening just a little wider. “You said chocolate-covered strawberries. Singular mission.”

You grin, smug. “Plans evolve.”

“Unbelievable,” he mutters, adjusting his glasses. “This is a grocery trip.”

He steers the cart along gently anyway, leaning against it slightly behind you as you lead him to yet another shelf. He sighs but there’s only amusement that lingers in his tone, no real weight behind it.

“You’re dramatic,” you tease, stopping in front of the cereal.

“I’m sleep-deprived,” he deadpans. “And now I’m shopping for Cheerios.”

You turn to face him, holding up your cereal. “Nope! You’re actually shopping for Lucky Charms.”

He exhales through his nose, leans down, and kisses you—soft and slow and sleepy.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

You blink, touched and laughing. “I might actually be offended.”

“I could say that I’m lucky you love me but that’s obvious.”

“Corny but I’ll let it slide since you’re cute.”

And he’s turning towards the shelf next to the cereals, reaching for the chips and pulls away with balsamic vinegar.

You lean your hip against the cart and send him a pointed look. “Singular mission, is that right Nanami Kento?”

He smirks and leans down, kissing you. His mouth slants to yours, warm and lazy, teeth grazing your bottom lip.

“And balsamic vinegar, of all things.” You mumble against his mouth.

He smiles into the kiss, dipping his tongue past your lips. And then you hear the crinkling of foil and he’s throwing in barbecue too. You grin successfully.

“Mm,” he hums, glancing down at you, a firm arm across your waist. “I heard the ice cream has a two for one deal.”

“I heard that too.”

Nanami huffs a laugh, but he’s leaning down, chasing your lips once again.

they make me sick (I love them rlly)

[applecaviar]

It's 5am and I keep finding more of your amazing shots to continue reading!!!

I love your *at the same time* fics, Sylus, Zayn and Caleb are my favourites so I almost died when I read theirs, it was mind-blowing.

I wanted to request one with Sylus and Zayn, I do love some snowcrow action ❄️🐦‍⬛

Here is some snowcrow for our broken hearts after the main story update from today.

Enjoy!!

Headers: @bc.lay on Tik Tok

TW: Smut

❄️🐦‍⬛

"You're either drunk or plain stupid"  Zayne retorts, his eyes narrowing as they remain fixed on Sylus. He doesn't seem impressed by the man's boldness.

Sylus just laughs, a sound that should be illegal, you think to yourself. He leans back, one arm slung casually across the back of the couch behind you, his fingers far too close to your thigh.

"You've never been with a man, Doctor?" Sylus asks, arching a brow at Zayne. There's a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, a gleam of challenge in his crimson eyes.

"I like women," Zayne answers shortly. His tone makes it clear that Sylus' sexuality is of no interest to him. He's not looking away from Sylus, his gaze hard and assessing. Assessing and calculating.

"Is that so?" Sylus purrs. His hand slides a fraction of an inch higher up your thigh. "How interesting. I could have sworn I saw the way you were looking at me, Doctor. Like you wanted to put me in my place."

Your heart races as Sylus stands abruptly, his predatory gaze never leaving Zayne's face. He takes a step towards him, then another, until he's standing right in front of Zayne. 

"And I beg to differ," Sylus says as his hand moves to the front of Zayne's pants, palming the obvious bulge straining against the fabric. "Look at how hard you are right now. You can't tell me you don't want this."

Zayne lets out a choked sound, half groan, half whimper, as Sylus gropes him. His hips jerk slightly into the touch before he seems to regain some semblance of control.

"Fuck...wait," Zayne grits out.

Despite his words, he makes no move to stop Sylus' wandering hands. If anything, he seems to be fighting the urge to push his hips forward, to demand more of that touch.

Sylus just chuckles "Oh, I don't think you want me to wait, Doctor." he murmurs. With deliberate slowness, he reaches for Zayne's belt, the leather creaking as he starts to unfasten it.

His belt falls open with a soft clatter, and Sylus slips his hand inside Zayne's pants, palming the hot, hard length of him.

"We can't..." Zayne whispers through clenched teeth.

"Why the fuck not?" Sylus curses, his brow arching sharply. 

Zayne turns to you, his eyes dark and intense as they search your face. Do you want this?"

You swallow hard and nod, pulse racing as you meet Zayne's eyes. The intensity there makes it clear that he won't proceed without your full consent.

Meanwhile, Sylus leans in close to Zayne "She's not saying no" he points out. His hand squeezes Zayne's cock almost punishingly. "In fact, she looks like she wants to be filled in every way possible. Doesn't she?"

"You know this is fucked up, right?" Zayne asks, a note of disbelief coloring his tone. Despite his shock, he can't deny the heat building at the idea of the two of them sharing you, pleasuring you. It's wrong, but it would be so very right.

Sylus just laughs again and he crooks a finger at you. "This is the first time I'm going to be with a man as well" he admits, no shame in his voice. "And I'm not opposed to it, on the contrary" His eyes glint as he beckons you closer.

You stand on shaky legs, drawn to Sylus like a child to a toy. Your feet carry you to him until he can wrap a hand around your wrist and pull you against his body. You gasp as he spins you around, pushing you down to your knees in front of Zayne.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this... a lot" Sylus purrs, his voice a sinful rumble that you feel in your bones.

Zayne's breath comes faster, his chest heaving as he stares down at you with hooded eyes. He inhales sharply as you suddenly yank his pants and underwear down, exposing his hard, fat cock to the cool air.

He lets out a strangled groan as your small hand wraps around his length, your fingers barely able to encircle its girth.

"Y/N..." Zayne gasps, his head falling back as you start to stroke him. Slowly at first, feeling every ridge and vein as you move your hand from the base of his shaft up to the swollen head. His hips twitch forward, seeking more of your touch.

"Such a needy little thing", Sylus murmurs. "So eager for a cock" His hand joins yours at the base of Zayne's shaft, wrapping around your smaller one. Together, you stroke Zayne, squeezing and caressing his hard flesh.

"You like this, don't you?" Sylus goads.

But he doesn't wait for an answer before tangling his fingers in your hair and pushing your face forward until your lips brush against the head of Zayne's cock.

"Suck it"

You part your soft lips and extend your small pink tongue, dragging it slowly around the swollen head of Zayne's cock. You can taste the salty tang of his precum, feel the velvet softness of his skin, the thick, pulsing heat of his arousal. A shaky moan escapes your lips as you savor his essence, your eyes fluttering closed.

Zayne lets out a strangled groan, his hand coming up to cover his entire face as he fights the urge to thrust forward.

"That's...fuuuuck..."

"That's it, kitten" Sylus' fingers tighten in your hair as he pushes your head down, encouraging you to take more of Zayne's cock into your mouth. "Take him deeper"

You feel the head of Zayne's cock pushing past your lips, stretching your jaw as you start to take him in inch by inch. You swirl your tongue around him, savoring every throb and twitch of his shaft.

"Get him nice and wet. I want to see you choke on his cock."

Zayne's hips jerk forward slightly, seeking more of your heat, as a litany of curses spill from his lips. "Shit...fuck...Y/N..., you have to...have to slow down..." But his body betrays his words, craving more of you, your mouth, your everything.

You look up at him from beneath, hazy eyes filled with lust and adoration, as you start to bob your head. You take him deeper on each pass, relaxing your throat to accommodate his thick girth until your nose is pressed against the hair at the base of his shaft. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of it, but you don't stop. You can't.

Zayne's brows furrow in concern when you gag on his cock, when he sees tears spill down your cheeks he immediately pulls back to give you room to breathe. His thumb brushes gently at the tears, wiping them away. "I don't want to hurt you"

Behind you, Sylus lets out a chuckle "Go sit on the couch like a good boy" he orders Zayne with a smirk. "Let me show you how to properly fuck her face"

You look up at Sylus, cheeks flushed and eyes wide "Or..." you whisper.

Sylus reads the unspoken challenge in your gaze and grins. Without a word, he drops fluidly to his knees before Zayne, taking your place. He looks up at Zayne through his lashes, a sinful glint in his eyes.

"Or", Sylus murmurs, "you can practice with me."

And then, before Zayne can react, Sylus leans in and takes his hard, throbbing cock into his mouth. He doesn't hesitate, doesn't tease, but simply swallows Zayne down.

Zayne's eyes widen in shock, a strangled groan tearing from his throat "Wait..." But Sylus pays no mind to his half hearted protests, instead starting to bob his head, sucking Zayne with ease.

Zayne hesitates for only a moment before Sylus' ministrations prove too tempting to resist. With a groan, Zayne tangles his fingers in Sylus' hair and starts to thrust his hips, driving his hard length in and out of his hot, sucking mouth.

Zayne grunts, head thrown back in ecstasy, fingers tightening in Sylus' hair as he starts to thrust harder, faster, chasing his pleasure as Sylus works his cock with single minded focus.

You watch, enraptured and incredibly aroused, as Sylus hollows his cheeks and sucks Zayne. You can see the thick outline of Zayne's cock stretching Sylus' mouth and it makes your core clench with need.

Suddenly, Zayne pulls Sylus off his cock with a wet pop. Sylus gasps in a sharp breath through his nose, a string of saliva connecting his lips to Zayne's throbbing tip. 

Sylus grips the base of Zayne's throbbing cock tightly, giving him a warning squeeze as he takes him back into his mouth.

He starts to suck Zayne again, head bobbing faster, cheeks hollowing with intensity. The sound of his slurps and gags fill the room. It doesn't take long before Zayne's control starts to fray at the edges. His grip on Sylus' hair tightens, fingers curling and uncurling.

"Fuck, Sylus, I'm...I'm close," His hips jerk forward, seeking more of Sylus' heat even as he tries to hold back. "Shit, I'm going to...I'm going to cum!"

Sylus pulls off Zayne's cock and once again grips the base tightly.

"See this is why we have to train this big cock," his voice sounds rough from the thorough sucking. "You're so eager to cum everywhere aren't you, Doctor? Down my throat, inside her tight little cunt, her pretty ass and her prettier face."

He gives a slow, deliberate lick up the underside of Zayne's shaft, making him shudder and curse under his breath. Sylus chuckles darkly, enjoying the power he holds over your Zayne.

Zayne turns to look at you, his eyes hazy with lust and desperation "Fuck yes"

You watch as Sylus' tongue darts out again, the erotic sight makes your walls clench with need.

"That's enough, Sylus," you state firmly, your voice breathier than intended.

Turning to Zayne, you give him a smoldering look. "Get on your knees next to him."

Zayne doesn't hesitate, immediately kneeling beside Sylus. They both stare up at you with hungry eyes as you strip, revealing your naked body to them. Their eyes roam over your curves, taking in every dip and swell, their chests heaving with anticipation.

You sit down on the couch, crooking your finger at the two men. "Crawl to me," you purr, "Both of you. Come take what's yours."

Zayne and Sylus exchange a glance, before they turn their eyes back to you and without a word, they start to crawl towards you.

Their eyes never leave your naked body, drinking in the sight of your bare breasts, your hardened nipples, the glistening folds of your sex. You can see the bulge in Sylus' pants, clear evidence of his arousal. Zayne's cock bounces with each movement, flushed a deep, angry red.

They come to a stop before you, kneeling at your feet, waiting for your next command. The sight of them, both strong and powerful men, reduced to kneeling before you makes your clit throb.

You spread your legs wider, baring yourself completely. The action draws an appreciative groan from both men as they drink in the sight of your glistening pussy. Their eyes follow the movement, darkening with lust at the delicious display.

"Zayne," you breathe, pointing at him. "You can take me to bed." 

Then you turn to Sylus and bite your lip "And you Sy... You can stay there and watch"

Zayne rises, cradling you against his broad chest as he carries you towards the bed. He lays you down gently, his eyes roving over your naked body with a hunger that makes your skin prickle. He joins you on the bed a moment later, the mattress dipping under his weight.

"You're so beautiful," Zayne murmurs, trailing reverent fingers along your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts.

"Don't keep her waiting too long"  Sylus teases "I do hope you can last long enough to satisfy our girl properly"

Zayne just smirks back at Sylus, a challenge in his eyes, before turning his attention back to you. 

His fingers dip between your thighs, brushing teasingly over your slick folds. You gasp, hips canting into his touch, already aching for more.

Zayne holds up his glistening fingers, coated in your slick, and shows them to you. "See how wet you are"

He leans in closer, his eyes searching you intently. "Is this all for me," he asks, the question rhetorical but tinged with a hint of curiosity, "or is it for Sylus?"

"Both! "you moan breathlessly in response, your body trembling with need and desire. You're aroused by both of them, by the thought of them touching you, tasting you, filling you in every way imaginable. The idea of them working together to bring you pleasure, sends jolts of electricity crackling through your nerves.

Zayne's eyes darken at your admission, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Greedy girl".

He settles himself between your spread thighs, pushing your legs up and back, opening you fully to him, then takes himself in hand and notches the thick head of his cock against your dripping entrance.

"Fuck, sweetheart" he rasps, fighting the urge to thrust forward and bury himself inside you in one go.

He starts to push forward, his cock stretching you open as he slowly sheaths himself inside you, filling and completing you in a way that makes your toes curl.

"S-so big," you whimper, back arching off the bed as you take him. "So deep."

"You were made for my cock" Zayne growls, finally bottoming out, his hips pressed flush against yours. "Like it was carved to fit you."

Zayne pulls nearly all the way out before driving back in, starting a deep, steady rhythm. Hips rolling in a sensual dance as he takes his pleasure from your willing body. His hands grip your thighs, holding them open and exposing you fully to his touch, to Sylus' eyes.

Each drive draws a breathy moan from your lips, your walls clenching and fluttering around him.

"Oh fuck," you cry out as pleasure crashes through you in relentless waves. "Fuck, Zayne!"

"I know," Zayne grunts, his voice sounds strained with the effort of holding back, of being gentle. "I know, you're doing so well, so fucking good for me"

His praise makes you melt, your body going pliant and yielding beneath him. Your moans spill freely and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Breathe sweetheart. You can take it"

Sylus scoffs "Of course she can fucking take it, she takes my cock wonderfully"

"I'm sure", Zayne agrees "But I'm the one fucking her now."

Zayne leans down and captures your mouth in a kiss, his tongue delving deep. At the same time, he shifts the angle of his hips, driving into that spot inside you that makes your toes curl and eyes roll back in your head.

"Right there," you keen, fingers scrabbling at his back, nails digging into his skin as you cling to him. "Don't stop, Zayne! Fuck me just like that!"

"So fucking tight and wet and perfect. Ungh, I can't...I'm going to..."

"Yes, yes, yes!" you wail, your body bouncing with the force of his thrusts, tits jiggling hypnotically. "Cum inside me, Zayne! "

"Sweetheart, fuck, I'm cumming!" He slamming into you one last time before burying himself to the hilt. His cock throbs and pulses as he starts to cum, painting your insides with thick, hot ropes of his seed.

You feel each spurt of his release, your body milking him for every last drop as you reach your own peak.

 "ZAYNE!" you scream, back bowing, eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as your pussy clamps down around him.

Zayne's hips give a few more lazy rolls as he works himself through the aftershocks. "You're mine now y/n"

"Ours" Sylus confirms "She belongs to both of us now, so I hope you don't mind sharing"

Zayne pulls out of you with a low groan. He takes in the sight of his seed spilling out of you and feels a deep sense of satisfaction.

With a gentle touch, he brushes your hair back from your forehead, tucking a few stray locks behind your ear.

"Wait here, sweetheart" Zayne murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before rising from the bed. He walks to the bathroom, the muscles of his firm ass flexing with each step.

" I got a towel for..."

Zayne walks back to the bedroom and freezes in the doorway, eyes widening as he takes in the sight before him. Sylus is nestled between your thighs. He looks up at Zayne giving him a lazy smile.

"I'm just cleaning up your mess"

Sylus turns his attention back to you and groans at the sight of Zayne's cum leaking out of you. He leans in and drags his tongue through your folds, moaning at the taste.

Zayne's cock twitches and starts to swell again as he watches Sylus clean up the mess he made, his tongue delving deep to lap up every last drop. The sight sends a fresh surge of blood rushing south, his shaft rising to attention once more.

Sylus seals his lips around your clit and suckles "Mmm, you taste so good together" he murmurs against your flesh, the vibrations making your thighs tremble.

Sylus gives your clit a parting kiss before rising gracefully to his feet. He turns to face Zayne "I want to see you fuck her again. I want to watch you take her over and over until she's a drooling, cock drunk mess."

Zayne strides over to the bed, his thick cock bobbing with each step, hard and ready for more. He settles back against the pillows and calls for you.

"Come here"

You don't hesitate, crawling up the bed until you're poised over Zayne's straining erection. The feeling of his him pressing against your folds again makes you shiver in anticipation.

"You look so pretty like this" Zayne whispers, gripping your hips tightly, guiding you down onto his cock.

With a breathless moan, you sink down onto him, your walls stretching to accommodate his girth as he fills you in one smooth stroke. You both groan at the sensation, your body trembling as you adjust to being so thoroughly stuffed full again.

"Oh god, Zayne!" you cry out, hands braced on his chest. "You're in so deep!"

Zayne grunts, hips flexing slightly, stirring his cock inside you.

"Can I move?" you breathe out, voice quivering with need. "I need to move, you feel..."

"Good?"

"Sooo good, Zayne"

"Move y/n, ride me"

"I want you to feel good Zayne"

"I'm buried deep inside your tight little cunt y/n, I'm already in fucking heaven"

You start to move, rising up until just the tip of Zayne's cock remains inside you. Then you sink back down, taking him to the hilt in one smooth glide.

"Oh fuck, yes! Just like that" his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he guides your movements.

You set a steady rhythm, breasts bouncing with each roll of your hips, your arousal allowing you to slide smoothly along his length. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room.

"Fucking hell, look at her go" you hear Sylus say "She's dripping for it."

"I'm too sensitive, I'm gonna cum again!" you cry out, your hips starting to move erratically as you chase your rapidly approaching climax. "Please Zayne!"

"That's it, Y/N. Don't fight it," Zayne orders as he starts to thrust up to meet your downward movements.

"Oh god, oh... I'm cumming!" you scream, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

Your pussy clamps down on Zayne's shaft as you gush and spasm above him. You scream his name over and over, your vision whiting out from the intensity of your orgasm.

Zayne doesn't stop his thrusts even as you come down from your high, determined to work you through the aftershocks.

He sits up abruptly, strong arms pulling you flush against his chest.

"Sylus deserves a turn," Zayne murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. "Don't you think, sweetheart?"

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Sylus presses his chest against your back, the heat of his skin seeping into yours. You feel the heavy length of his erection nestling in the cleft of your ass. When did he get naked?

"I can't come again," you whine weakly, your body still trembling "It's too much, too soon."

"We'll see about that" Zayne and Sylus say in unison, identical smirks playing at their lips. They exchange a look over your head.

"We'll be gentle," Sylus promises as his hands start to roam over your body. "At first."

"Spread her open for me"

Zayne reaches around to your ass, strong hands gripping the soft globes tightly. He kneads the supple flesh, thumbs digging into the meat of your cheeks as he starts to spread you open. Your ass yields to his touch, the tight ring of muscle slowly widening as he exposes you.

"Fuck, look at that," Sylus growls as he presses the swollen head of his cock against your back entrance. "So pretty, all puckered up and begging for a cock."

"Oh god!" you whimper, fingers scrabbling at Zayne's chest

"Wider, Zayne," Sylus commands, voice strained with the effort of holding back as your incredibly tight rear entrance stretches around the thick head of his cock. "I need more room to play"

"Like this?" Zayne asks, spreading your cheeks as far apart as they can go, thumbs digging into your soft flesh.

"Fuck yes, just like that"

"Ohhh, it's so big!" you cry out, back arching as you feel Sylus' girthy cock stretching you "I feel so full"

You try to close your legs to ease the intense, overwhelming sensation but Zayne stops you.

"Uh-uh, none of that"  Zayne scolds, gripping your thighs tightly and pushing them back open, holding you in place.

"This ass is mine," Sylus' hand comes down to grip your cheek hard "Just like the rest of you."

He spits crudely into the valley of your ass, the warm saliva dripping down the cleft and pooling around where he's slowly impaling you on his cock. 

Zayne leans in to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, tongue delving into your mouth and tangling with yours once again.

"I'm halfway in" Sylus grits out as he fights the urge to slam the rest of the way in.

"I want it all, Sy," you whimper against Zayne's lips "I need you both"

Sylus smirks at your desperate pleas, hips surging forward to bury himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Your ass swallows the last of his length, tight walls clenching and fluttering wildly around the intrusion.

The combined groans of pleasure echo through the room as Sylus hilts inside you, heavy balls nestling against your ass.

"Fuck me, this is incredible," Sylus gasps, head falling back in bliss at the exquisite sensation. He gives a couple of experimental pumps, relishing how your body yields to his dominance.

The sudden, intense stimulation sends both you and Zayne into a fit of desire, bodies writhing against each other as Sylus starts to set a rhythm. 

"You like this, don't you, kitten? Are you ready for more?"

"Please Sy...I-I need it" you cry out, head lolling against Zayne's shoulder.

Zayne chuckles and reaches down to roughly palm your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

"What was that kitten?" Sylus murmurs hotly in your ear "Use your words if you are going to beg for it."

"Please fuck me harder. I want to feel you in my fucking stomach! Fuck me stupid with your cock until I can't even remember my own name! Please, please, please! I'm begging you!"

"Good fucking girl"

At your shameless begging, Sylus and Zayne start to move. Their movements match and complement each other perfectly, Sylus slamming into your ass as Zayne fucks into your pussy.

"Oh god, I can feel you both" you breathe out, eyes wide with shock and awe as you feel them pressing against each other through the thin wall of your pelvic tissue, separated only by a thin barrier deep inside you.

The sensation is indescribably intense, the dual stimulation of two cocks stretching and filling you in ways you've never experienced before. The knowledge that these two men are claiming you so completely, in every way imaginable, sends your arousal skyrocketing.

Sylus and Zayne groan in unison as they feel each other through your walls, the knowledge that they are pleasuring you together pushing them closer to the edge.

"Oh...oh fuck, it's too much!" you wail, feeling your climax building at a breathtaking pace.

When Sylus reaches around to flick your clit with expert precision and Zayne latches onto your nipple, sucking hard and grazing it with his teeth, it proves to be the final catalyst your overstimulated body needed. Your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, every nerve ending igniting with mind numbing ecstasy.

"OHHHH FU...,OH GOD, I'M CUMMING!" you scream at the top of your lungs, your voice echoing off the walls. Your pussy clamps down HARD on Zayne's cock, silken walls rippling and squeezing him like a vice. At the same time, your asshole clenches and flutters wildly around Sylus, gripping him like a hot, slick fist.

With synchronized grunts and groans of pure pleasure, they both surge forward one last time, burying themselves as deep as they can into your spasming holes as their own powerful climaxes overtake them.

Sylus hilts deep in your ass. His cock pulses and throbs, painting you with thick ropes of cum. He grips your hips hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fills you with spurt after spurt of his release.

Zayne slams into your cunt, his cockhead flaring and pulsing as he shoots his own heavy load. Your greedy pussy milks him for every drop, walls rippling and squeezing as it sucks his cum deep into your core. He bites down hard on your nipple, muffling his groans against your breast.

Their combined releases trigger aftershocks of pleasure that wrack your entire body, leaving you shaking and mewling weakly between them.

Their hands grip your trembling body tightly as they ride out their orgasms. They hold you in between them, their softening cocks plugging you up, not allowing a single drop of their release to escape your stuffed holes.

You collapse against Zayne's chest, utterly spent and boneless, your body still twitching. Sylus drapes himself over your back, both of them panting harshly as they try to catch their breath. 

"You're heavy, Sy"

Sylus chuckles breathlessly against your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. "Sorry, kitten," he apologizes, but makes no move to lift his weight off you. If anything, he seems to press down harder, enjoying the feeling of pinning you beneath him. "You didn't seem to mind a few minutes ago when I was pounding this perfect ass and fucking you silly"

Zayne smirks, one hand coming up to gently tilt your chin towards him. "He's right, sweetheart. You were screaming for more just a little while ago. Now you're complaining about a little weight?"

"Mmm, I guess I can't complain too much about being the filling in a Sylus and Zayne sandwich, right?"

[syrecjh]

──★ ˙💀 ̟ !! Blessed and Stressed by Bakugo’s Body

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x reader,

The door was already cracked open. That was the only excuse you had as you hovered outside Bakugo’s dorm room, your fingers twitching with indecision. You did text him, told him you needed to borrow his notes, and he didn’t reply — typical — but the door being open felt like silent permission. You knocked once. Twice. The familiar notebook sat on his desk like it was waiting for you.

So you stepped inside.

It smelled faintly of pine and spice and something uniquely Katsuki. His room was as you expected — clean, not spotless, structured, just like him. You muttered a quick “I’m just grabbing your notes!” into the air, like that would absolve you of trespassing. Fingers grazing over the desk, you reached for the notebook when a shift in the air behind you made every nerve light up.

You turned — and froze.

He stood there. Framed by the doorway like a goddamn dream that had wandered out of a sauna. Steam still clung to his skin, droplets carving their way down his chest, past the slope of his collarbones, trailing over the sharp lines of his abs. His hair was wet, darker than usual, sticking to his forehead in jagged strands. A white towel hung loosely around his neck, one hand still rubbing at his hair. The other held a half-empty bottle of protein milk.

And he looked at you like you were the thief who broke into his fortress. Which, technically, you were.

“Oi,” he said, voice rough and low, probably from the heat of the shower, or maybe just you. “The hell do you think you’re doing?”

Your mouth opened. Closed. Words? What were those? Your brain was screaming at you to say something coherent, but all you could do was gawk at the trail of water gliding down the line of his sternum, disappearing under the waistband of his low-hanging shorts.

“I—I texted! The door was open!” you blurted, cheeks burning so violently. You clutched the notebook to your chest like it might protect you from whatever was about to happen next.

And then he moved.

Two steps. Just two, and suddenly he was there — towering, close, too close. His bare chest radiated heat, and the room suddenly felt like it had shrunk to the size of a closet. You didn’t even realize you had backed up until your spine kissed the wall and he was caging you in. His arms cage you in on either side, forearms braced against the wall just beside your head, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body—like he brought the steam of the shower with him. You could see the water droplets clinging to his lashes. His smirk.

“Could’ve waited,” he said, voice dipping lower, more amused than annoyed now. “Or maybe you just wanted to snoop through my shit.”

“N-No!” you sputtered. “I swear I just—”

His eyes dropped, for just a second, to the notebook you were still clutching like a lifeline, and when they lifted again, they were darker. Something unreadable swam in them, something dangerous and teasing and infuriatingly attractive.

You could feel your heart punching against your ribs.

You want to say something smart, you do—but the way he leans in closer shuts your brain right off. His damp hair drips another bead of water that slides down the curve of his jaw. You watch it drop. You're doomed.

“See somethin’ you like?” he smirks.

You flinch. “Wha—No! I—! Your hair just—it’s just down, and—! You usually spike it, okay?! It’s not fair—!”

He tilts his head, mock confusion painting his expression. “Not fair?” he repeats slowly, voice laced with dark amusement. “You break into my room, steal my notes, get all shy when you see me shirtless, and I’m the one playin’ dirty?”

"You weren’t supposed to be shirtless!” you blurt, practically hiding behind the notebook now.

He lets out a laugh—low, rich, dangerous. “Baby, I live here.”

Then he leans in again, close enough that his breath skims your cheek, warm and teasing. “If you wanted to see more, you could’ve just asked.”

You let out a strangled noise that definitely wasn’t a word, and he grins like he’s won.

“Next time,” he murmured, leaning just a little closer, his breath brushing your cheek, “wait ‘til I have a damn shirt on. Or don’t. Your call.”

You were going to combust.

And all he did was chuckle — low and soft and smug — before he stepped back, taking the heat with him, leaving you stuck to the wall like he’d pinned you there with nothing but a glance and the ghost of his proximity.

The worst part? You weren’t sure you wanted to leave.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

jax is THE "obsessed with his girl when she wears sundresses or those slip nightgowns" like theres a CRIMINAL lack of fanfic around him going bark bark awooga over that shit do u agree with me

Sundress.

it’s sundress season. jax can’t keep his hands to himself.

pairing - jax teller x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. jax is a terror.

word count - 1.5/2k maybe? i’ll check later.

authors note - you’re so right. that man is not surviving sundress season.

masterlist. inbox.

You felt it as soon as he walked in.

There’s always an atmosphere between you and Jax. A tension that’s alive, crackling, buzzing with anticipation of itself.

You’ve been waiting for the honeymoon phase to wear off for years. It never has.

All evening, he’s been watching you.

Careful, concentrated blue eyes repeatedly raking over your figure. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Eventually, it’s making it too hard to work. You ask one of the girls to take over the bar and stride across the space, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him into the back room.

“Okay baby, I like it when you-”

“Cut it out.”

He stops in his tracks, slightly taken aback.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, Jax. Cut it the fuck out.”

He leans against the wall, cool as ever, eyes still wandering.

“Cut what out?”

“That!” you scold, smacking his chest. “The eye fucking. I’m trying to work.”

“I’m just looking at you.”

“You are not just looking at me. You look like you’re going to bend me over the bar at any given moment. Stop it.”

“I can’t help it, darlin’.”

He takes a step forward, sliding his hands across your hips and pulling you into him.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty in this dress. It’s takin’ everything in me to not rip it off you.”

You try to stand your ground, but his warm body pressing into yours is making it difficult.

“You can do whatever you want to me when we get home,” you tease, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “When we get home.”

“That a promise?”

“It is if you can cool it with the stares. You’re scaring people.”

“Good.”

He kisses you roughly, hands migrating down to palm at your ass. You moan into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck to stay steady.

“Jax,” you hiss as you pull away. “Everyone’s gonna think we’re fucking back here. Behave.”

“I like it when you tell me to behave,” he smirks, smoothing out the skirt of your dress.

“Behave,” you repeat, tugging his hair roughly. His eyes close in bliss and for a moment, you debate just letting him have you now.

Remembering the entire reason for this conversation, you slap his cheek lightly.

“Best behaviour until the end of my shift. You hear me, Jackson?”

“Yes ma’am.”

He mock salutes you before stealing a quick kiss. Opening the door for you, he smacks your ass as you walk by, laughing when you turn around to glare at him.

“I mean it.”

“Oh I know, baby.”

To his credit, he reels it in. Slightly.

He’s still watching your every move, but with a little less intensity than before. You catch his eyes occasionally, winking as you grin. He shakes his head, beaming smile on his face telling you everything you need to know.

As the night comes to a close, people start to vacate the bar and make their way home, drunk and merry. Jax sticks around, arm slung over the back of the booth as he watches you clean.

“You two gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, Chibs, we’re good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gives you a kiss on the cheek before leaving, as you hear his bike roar to life.

As soon as Jax has confirmation he’s gone, he’s getting up, sauntering over to where you’re wiping down the bar top.

“What’s my prize?”

“Hmm?”

You look up at him with big doe eyes and he almost melts, leaning across the wood towards you.

“What’s my prize? For behaving myself?”

“You’re insufferable,” you laugh. “You’re supposed to behave yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You shake your head and lean down to throw the rag under the sink. When you stand up, Jax is pressed against you, body warm and firm.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

His big hands cradle your face, rough and gun calloused.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty.”

You flush, heat rising across your chest. Jax lunges in, smashing his lips to yours and pushing you up against the bar. The lip of the wood is digging into your back as he presses you into it further, rocking his hips into yours as he kisses you.

You gasp as he bites down on your lip, so he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like beer and cigarettes and the gum he chews because he knows you like it. You tangle your fingers into his hair, trying to plaster yourself to him.

Jax leans down and presses open mouthed kisses to your ear, your neck, your collarbones, your chest. No skin goes left untouched as you tilt your head to give him more access. He smirks at how quickly you’ve relented.

“I know you wanted this,” he murmurs against your throat. “Wanted it just as bad as me, didn’t you?”

When you don’t respond, he snakes a hand around your neck, squeezing just enough.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, Jax. Please.”

He presses his lips into the junction of your shoulder as his hand slips underneath your dress. He traces you over your underwear, cupping you as he chuckles.

“Filthy girl. So fuckin’ wet.”

You drop your head forward into his chest, trying to take deep breaths so you don’t pass out.

“Can’t take my time with you like I want to,” he murmurs. “Don’t want anyone walking in and seeing you like this.”

In the blink of an eye he’s spinning you around, hand on your shoulder blades to push you down onto the bar top. He flips the skirt of your dress up, bunching it around your waist.

“Been thinkin’ about this all day. Pretty fuckin’ girl.”

Jax pulls your underwear to the side as he fumbles with his jeans, pushing them down just enough. You feel the warmth of him behind you, sliding through your wet heat with ease.

“Please,” you whine. “Don’t tease.”

“Needy baby.”

His tone is so patronising, so condescending, that on any other day you’d slap him. But in this current moment, the only thing you can thing about how is how you might die if he doesn’t fuck you soon.

“Okay, honey. I’ll give you what you want. Only because you look so fuckin’ gorgeous in this dress.”

He slides himself home as both of you groan. You rest your head on your folded arms on the bar as his hands find your hips, setting a brutal pace instantly.

His rhythm is consistent, deep thrusts reverberating through the core of you. Your knees threaten to give out as he knocks your entire body forward, his hips smacking into yours.

His mouth is running constantly, spewing filth right into your ear as he breathes down your neck.

“Prettiest fuckin’ girl I’ve ever seen. This goddamn dress. Drivin’ me insane.”

“Yeah darlin’, just like that. Fuck, baby. S’good.”

“You feel like heaven, fuck. Atta girl.”

“Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, there we go.”

You can’t do anything but take it, babbling nonsense right back at him. He chuckles, snaking his hand around your front to circle your clit.

His fingers are your undoing, clenching around him like a vice as your legs give out. All you can do is whine his name, all high pitched and breathy.

“Fuck, baby.”

Jax comes as soon as he feels you, groaning as he rests his head on your back. He squeezes your hips a couple of times, kissing across your skin.

You’re both revelling in your post orgasm bliss when the door flies open, hitting the wall and startling you both.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, lovebirds.”

Chibs is grinning, laughing as he looks around the booth where he was sitting. He finds his keys on the floor, holding them up as he shakes his head at the two of you.

Jax pulls out of you and buttons himself up, smoothing your dress down to preserve your decency. You hide your face in his chest as he chuckles, the sound rumbling through the both of you.

“See ya tomorrow!” the Scotsman yells as he leaves, stupid smile on his face.

“What did I tell you about behaving?”

Jax can’t help but laugh at you, pulling you in to press a kiss to your head.

“Let’s go home, pretty girl. Wanna fuck you in this dress a couple more times.”

@lauratang @ladyjbrekker @myhappyplaceofstuff

[user-voidx]

Two Months Too Long

poor gojo just wants his lovely wife to himself… but the house has been way too full.

gojo x female!reader, nsfw, virgin!reader, mdni

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You loved your family. You loved his friends. You’d smiled through every gathering, every sudden visit, every “we were just in the neighborhood” moment that somehow ended in sleepovers and breakfast for six. You didn’t complain. You didn’t want to be ungrateful. They were happy for your marriage, and you were too.

But two months?

Two whole months.

Not one single night to yourselves. Not one uninterrupted moment where you could curl into your husband's arms and let him touch you the way he wanted to. The way he needed to.

And Gojo—bless him—had been trying.

At first, it was teasing: a soft groan against your ear as he passed behind you in the kitchen. Wandering hands beneath the blanket during movie nights, barely concealed under the weight of guests spread across your couch. Quick kisses that left your lips tingling and your thighs pressed together beneath your sundress.

But it wasn’t enough.

Not for him.

And definitely not for you.

Because it didn’t stop there.

By week three, Gojo’s restraint had worn paper-thin. He was constantly behind you. Pressing against your back in the hallway, brushing his lips over your shoulder while pretending to reach for something overhead. His palm would rest just a little too long on your waist when people were watching—but when they weren’t?

He’d dip low and whisper filth against your skin. Hot, needy things that made your face flush and your thighs ache. Things he meant.

“m'Gonna come in my pants if you keep sitting like that, baby…”

“Can’t even look at you without thinking about how good that pussy’s gonna feel wrapped around me.”

“Bet you’re dripping under that little dress, huh? All soft and untouched and mine.”

You’d wake up in the middle of the night with his arms around your waist and his hard-on pressed firm into your ass. Sometimes he’d rut against you in his sleep, breath hitching, hand sliding beneath your shirt, just resting there. Shaking with need.

By the end of week six, you were both losing it.

He wouldn’t let you bend over in front of him anymore. Wouldn’t let you wear certain dresses in the house. Wouldn’t sit on the same couch during movie night because he knew he’d end up pulling you onto his lap, rocking you against his clothed cock until you soaked through your panties.

You were holding your breath every damn day. Hiding the way your nipples hardened when he walked in the room. The way your core throbbed just from watching him clench his jaw in frustration. The way you got wet when he looked at you like he might say fuck it—consequences be damned—and take you right there on the kitchen counter.

Eventually, you both agreed on the “pillow rule.”

Something. Anything to keep the peace. To keep your hands to yourselves. At night, you'd sleep with a firm pillow between your bodies like a pathetic little chastity belt. You both laughed the first night—Gojo called it “the cockblock cushion”—but now?

Now?

Now the pillow was discarded on the floor.

You sat on his lap, legs sprawled over his, your cotton sleep shirt hitched up around your waist, the only barrier long gone. His deep, shaky breaths fanned the back of your neck, nose pressed into your skin like he couldn’t get close enough.

“I can’t—ngghhh,” you whimpered, hips twitching at the slow, maddening drag of his fingers inside you.

“Shh, baby. Shh,” he whispered again, kissing the shell of your ear, voice thick and desperate. “Quiet. They’re still here.”

And they were.

His best friend was passed out on the downstairs couch. Your cousin and her boyfriend had taken the guest room. Someone else had claimed the pull-out. The house was full—every room but this one.

But you couldn’t care.

Not when his fingers were moving like that—slow and deep and so damn intentional. Curling just right. Knuckles pressing against the lips of your pussy, dragging slick sounds from your core that you both prayed the fan would drown out.

His abs clenched hard beneath your back every time you fluttered around his fingers. “I know it’s a lot, baby,” he whispered, kissing the corner of your jaw, “I know it feels so good, but we need this…”

And god, you did.

His hands didn’t stop. One arm wrapped tight around your middle, palm flat and firm over the plush of your stomach like he loved the way you filled his hands. The other worked between your thighs with slow, desperate care—slick, messy strokes hidden only by the hush of your shallow breathing and the fan humming overhead.

Your body arched helplessly, thighs trembling around him, every curve aching with the heat he’d stirred up for weeks. Your fingers dug into his forearm where it circled your belly. You felt stretched and full and so warm, everything pulsing with years of restraint unraveling in seconds. The press of his palm against your mound sent sparks up your spine, and you bit your lip so hard you tasted copper.

“I-I thought we were waiting,” you breathed out, voice soft and broken, barely there.

“We were,” Gojo said, dragging his lips down your neck, tongue flicking out to soothe the spot he’d just kissed. “But I waited through the wedding. Waited through the honeymoon we never got. Waited through eight goddamn weeks of company—of you walking around in little nightgowns with no idea how close I was to losing it.”

He curled his fingers inside you then, slow and deep.

And then—you felt it.

His other hand trailing upward, warm and steady as it cupped your breast, fingers slipping beneath your shirt to find your nipple.

Gojo groaned—deep and strained, like even he couldn’t take it anymore.

His thumb brushed over your nipple in slow, circling strokes, teasing it to a stiff peak before giving it a gentle tug. You shuddered, keening softly.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “So soft. So fuckin’ perfect everywhere. I could spend hours on these tits alone.”

He twisted gently, just enough to make your hips jolt and your walls flutter around his fingers. It was too much—his hand on your nipple, his fingers inside you, his mouth dragging kisses over your cheek like you were the only thing he believed in.

“Good girl,” he rasped, kissing your cheek again, then down to your jaw. “My good girl. Look how fuckin’ pretty you are like this.”

You were soaked.

Messy.

So full of him you thought you might cry.

“I-it’s too much,” you gasped, eyes fluttering, voice high and breathless. “Feels so good—too good, I never—oh my god—I never felt like this…”

You rambled helplessly, your thoughts unraveling like thread, hips rolling without control.

And when you clenched hard, back arching, mouth dropping open in a sharp, helpless moan—Gojo felt it.

His breath caught—then he moaned, low and guttural, thrusting up against your plush ass with barely concealed need. And just as your cry spilled out, his hand slipped from your breast to your mouth, covering it quickly, palm broad and warm against your lips.

He panted against your ear, voice trembling with restraint. “Oh fuck—there she is. That sweet little virgin cunt just milking my fingers,” he whispered, filthy and low. “So tight for me. So perfect.”

You whined into his palm, whole body shaking. The pressure was unbearable now—sharp and tight and growing—your thighs trembling, stomach tightening with every curl of his fingers and every flick of his thumb.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he murmured again, his hand never slowing. “Wanna feel you soak my fingers. Right here in our bed, while everyone else sleeps. Want you to make a mess for me. Wanna see you squirt all over my fuckin’ hand.”

You whimpered, nodded—helpless.

And with one final stroke—his fingers curling deep, his thumb flicking faster, his teeth nipping your earlobe—you shattered.

Trembling, gasping beneath his hand, you came hard—sensitive, overwhelmed, wetness gushing down your thighs as you squirted for the first time in your life. Your whole body jerked, your chubby frame spasming in his lap while your pussy clenched around his fingers like a vice.

Gojo groaned against your ear, holding you down with one arm like he couldn’t bear to let go.

“Fuck, fuck—that’s it,” he moaned, kissing your cheek as you writhed. “That’s my girl. You’re mine, baby. You’re all mine.”

He held you through it, his free arm still tight around your waist, his lips never leaving your face—your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth—whispering praises while you came apart in his lap.

Only when your body finally sagged against him, limp and breathless, did he move his hand from your mouth and kiss you, slow and deep and full of all the things he hadn’t said.

“I love you,” he breathed against your lips.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

bloodlines (m.r.) [bonus]

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Bonus based on this fic

You had reluctantly agreed to meet him by the Black Lake after curfew.

Mostly because he’d looked at you with those stupid, molten eyes and said, “Trust me,” in that tone—the one that made you weak in the knees.

You’d hoped—hoped—he just wanted to mess around by the shore. Kiss you stupid. Maybe ogle your bikini under the moonlight, hands wandering.

Imagine your surprise when you realized it was not to see you in a cute bikini.

He was already waist-deep in the water when you arrived, dark curls dripping, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Clothes off,” He called, “We’re doing this.”

You blinked, “Doing what?”

“You’re learning to swim.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Wait. You’re serious about this?” You asked, arms wrapping tightly around yourself as the midnight mist curled off the lake, “Like—actually swim?”

Mattheo stood confidently in the shallows, bare-chested and smug, droplets sliding down his collarbone. “Yes,” He said simply, like it was obvious, “Did you think I brought you out here just to stare at your arse?”

“Well... yes?”

He sighed—fond, exasperated, and hopelessly in love, “Can’t deny I’m going to cop a feel. But no, today is strictly for educational purposes.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You said this was a date.”

He smirked, “It is. You and me. Water. Wet clothes. Intimate touching. Very romantic.”

You rolled your eyes, but fondness bloomed warm in your chest like wildflowers. He was insufferable, overbearing, smug—and you adored him.

You slid slowly into the lake, hissing at the chill. Mattheo was beside you instantly, hands warm and steady at your waist.

“Easy,” He murmured, “We’ll stay shallow today.”

“I’m not scared of the water.” You muttered, even though your grip on his shoulders said otherwise.

He didn’t call you out. Just kissed your forehead, “I know. You’re my brave girl.”

Something in his tone was far too smug for your taste, but you were too cold to argue. You pressed your chest to his, trying to stop your teeth from chattering.

“I hate you.” You said flatly.

“Come on, pretty girl. Don’t be like that,” He cooed, “I’m just worried you’ll get yourself drowned when I’m not there to save you next time.”

“My next husband will, after I drown you for making me do this.”

“With the way you’re clinging to me, baby, if I go down, you’re coming with me.”

“Well, you do love it when I go down.” You purred, fingers trailing slowly down his chest.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist in what was absolutely not a floating technique. Your arms looped around his neck, chin resting on his shoulder as you tried to calm your heart and get used to the chill.

Mattheo’s hands skimmed up and down your hips, like he was trying very, very hard not to enjoy this.

Your lips brushed his jaw. He froze.

“Matty,” You whispered. “I’m cold. Can we please do this another day?”

“Baby,” He said, voice low, “We both know you have no intention of doing this another day.”

“Well,” You said, tightening your hold, “it’s hard to find swimming appealing when it’s the reason I can’t feel my toes… and when it’s the reason my husband is ignoring the fact that I’m in a skimpy bikini right now.”

His grip on your hips tightened—just slightly.

You smirked. Checkmate.

Mattheo exhaled slowly through his nose, jaw tight.

“You’re not gonna distract me, love.” He murmured, voice ragged, fingers twitching against your bikini strings like they were taunting him.

You could practically feel the internal war going on behind his eyes—honorable swim-coach-Mattheo vs. barely-holding-it-together-Mattheo whose half-naked wife was currently wrapped around him like a siren.

He gave a strangled groan, tipping his head back toward the stars, “Merlin help me…”

“I don’t think Merlin is the one you should be worried about right now.” You giggled, peppering kisses along his throat—along the sharp cut of his jaw and that damn Adam’s apple you loved so much.

Every brush of your lips sparked a heat low in your stomach, spreading like wildfire. It didn’t quite chase away the chill of the lake, but it helped. Especially with the way Mattheo’s breathing stuttered beneath your mouth.

You grinned. “Something wrong, Coach?” You asked innocently, fingers curling into the damp curls at the back of his neck, “You look a little… distracted.”

“Why are you being difficult?” He asked through clenched teeth, “I’m trying to teach you survival skills.”

“I’d survive just fine if you let me stay on the shore in your hoodie and make out like normal people.”

His hands suddenly gripped your thighs, lifting you higher around his waist as he waded back a few steps—far enough that your toes no longer touched the lakebed.

You squeaked and clung tighter, well and truly suspended now in his arms.

“Mattheo!”

His gaze flicked to your mouth.

“Say one more word,” He warned, voice dark, “and this is no longer a swimming lesson.”

You narrowed your eyes, undeterred, “...word.”

That was it. His mouth crashed onto yours.

The lake didn’t matter. The cold didn’t matter. The lesson—completely forgotten.

He kissed you like it was the first time and the last. Hands roaming. Lips urgent. Like he was going to make you feel every ounce of his sheer want in this one kiss.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you sighed against him, triumphant.

“Lesson over?” You breathed against his lips.

“Lesson,” He growled, kissing down your neck, “postponed.”

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

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@superlegend216

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Harry Potter Taglist:

@downbad4reid

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Mattheo Riddle Taglist:

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Slytherin Boys Taglist:

@laufeysvalentine

@theodoresvalentine

[brunettemarionette]

Clingy Carmen

He's in love. He's clingy. He's yours.

Part Two.

The annual staff party is in full swing, the cramped staff room of the restaurant buzzing with laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint thump of a playlist Richie threw together at the last minute.

You’re leaning against a counter, nursing a soda water with lime, watching the chaos unfold.

The kitchen staff, usually a tightly wound crew, is letting loose tonight, and it’s a sight. Sydney’s debating pizza toppings with Marcus, Tina’s dancing with Ebra, and Richie’s trying to convince everyone he’s got the best karaoke voice in Chicago.

But your eyes keep drifting to Carmen—your Carmen—whose usual sharp focus has been replaced by a tipsy, lopsided grin.

He’s three whiskeys deep, maybe four, and it shows. Carmy’s not a big drinker, but tonight he’s leaning into it, his shoulders relaxed for once, his anxiety tucked away under the warm haze of alcohol. He’s standing by the drinks table, laughing too loud at something Fak said, but when he spots you across the room, his whole face lights up like you’re the only person here.

“Babe,” he calls, voice slurring just enough to make Sydney snicker. He weaves through the crowd, nearly tripping over a chair, and before you can say anything, he’s at your side, wrapping his arms around your waist like you’re his lifeline. “There you are,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck. His breath is warm, smelling of whiskey and that faint, familiar scent of the kitchen—olive oil, smoke, and him.

“Carm, you good?” you ask, patting his back, trying not to laugh as he nuzzles closer. His curls tickle your cheek, and you can feel the heat of his skin through his thin T-shirt.

“M’great,” he slurs, pulling back just enough to look at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re so pretty, y’know that? Like… stupid pretty.” His hands slide up your sides, lingering a little too long, and you catch Richie raising an eyebrow from across the room, smirking like he’s enjoying the show.

“Thanks, babe,” you say, gently steering his hands back to safer territory. “You’re having fun, huh?”

“Only ‘cause you’re here,” he says, earnest in that way only a drunk Carmy can be. He leans in, trying to kiss you, but it’s messy, his aim off, landing somewhere near your jaw. You laugh, guiding his face back, and he pouts, looking like a kicked puppy. “C’mon, kiss me,” he whines, tugging you closer.

“Carmy, you’re drunk,” you say, keeping your tone light but firm. The others are watching now, Tina stifling a giggle behind her hand, Marcus pretending to focus on his drink but clearly eavesdropping.

Carmy’s usually so tightly wound, all sharp edges and nervous energy, that seeing him like this, soft, clingy, practically draping himself over you—is comedy gold to them.

“Don’t care,” he mumbles, pressing himself against you, his hands wandering again. “You’re my girl, right? Lemme… lemme take you home.” His voice drops, low and suggestive, and you feel your cheeks heat up as Richie lets out a loud “Oh, shit!” and claps like he’s at a stand-up show.

“Carmen Anthony Berzatto,” you say, grabbing his face with both hands, forcing him to meet your eyes with an amused grin. “You are way too drunk for that.”

He blinks at you, slow and confused, then grins like he’s got a secret. “But I want you,” he says, loud enough that Sydney chokes on her drink and Fak lets out a “Yo, Carm, chill!”

You’re torn between embarrassment and amusement, because this is Carmy, the guy who can barely say “I love you” without blushing sober, trying to get frisky in front of his entire staff.

“Nope,” you say, shaking your head, but you can’t help smiling. “You’re going to bed, chef. Alone. With water and some aspirin.”

He groans, dramatically, and slumps against you, his head on your shoulder. “You’re no fun,” he mumbles, but he’s still clinging to you, arms tight around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.

You catch Tina’s eye, and she mouths “cute” with a grin, clearly loving this rare glimpse of Carmy’s softer side.

“Alright, party’s over for you,” you say, gently prying him off. “Say goodnight, Carm.”

“Goodnight, Carm,” he echoes, giggling to himself, then waves sloppily at the room. “Night, losers!”

The crew erupts in laughter, Richie yelling, “Get his ass home, Sweetheart!” as you steer Carmy toward the door.

The drive to his apartment is an adventure. Carmy’s in the passenger seat, still touchy, reaching for your hand at every red light, muttering about how you’re “the best thing that’s ever happened” to him. You keep one hand on the wheel, the other gently batting his away when he gets too bold, reminding him you’re not crossing that line while he’s hammered.

At his place, you manage to get him inside, the two of you pressed together, all sloppy kisses and whispered promises. You're giving him this much as you walk him to bed. “C’mon, babe, just stay,” he pleads, flopping onto the mattress, tugging at your wrist.

“Not tonight, Carm,” you say, firm but gentle, pulling the blanket over him. You set a glass of water and two aspirin on the nightstand, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

He’s already half-asleep, eyes fluttering shut, but he grabs your hand one last time, holding it against his chest.

“Love you,” he mumbles, barely coherent, and your heart does a little flip despite yourself.

“Love you too,” you whisper, kissing his forehead. He’s out cold before you even turn off the light.

As you lock up and head home, you can’t help but smile, thinking about the teasing you’ll both get from the crew tomorrow. Clingy, drunk Carmy might be a handful, but he’s your handful, and that’s more than enough.

[itneverendshere]

drunk words sober thoughts - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

Here you were, in the middle of Figure Eight at four in the goddamn morning, dragging your six-foot-something, entirely-too-drunk boyfriend away from a kook party you didn’t even want to go to in the first place.

He was stupidly wasted, stumbling along like his legs had forgotten how to work, slurring every other word like his tongue was three sizes too big.

“Baaaaaby,” Rafe sloppily enunciated, breath against your neck as he practically draped himself over you, "You’re so fuckin’—shit—so fuckin’ hot, like—like the hottest thing I ever seen in my life—swear t’god, baby,—holy shit—” His hands groped at your waist, sliding down to your ass as he tried to pull you closer, touching you like it was his god-given right—which in his mind, it probably was.

You smacked his hand away, though you couldn't help but feel a little fond—just a little.  "Touch my ass one more time before we get home and I’m gonna leave you in a ditch."

He gasped, as if you just threatened to burn his whole family fortune to the ground. "You wouldn’t."

You shoved him off with an annoyed huff. “I would.”

“But—”

“Shush.”

He let out a dramatic groan but complied, mostly because he was too drunk to fight back. You had managed to yank him out of the house, away from all the Kooks he swore he didn’t fuck with anymore, away from the shots he was knocking back like water, and out onto the empty street.

Kelce was still inside, which meant you had no ride home, and the only other person who offered—a random-ass Kook girl—had given you a look you did not appreciate. You’d rather drag Rafe’s dumb ass across the island than owe one of those trust-fund bitches a favor.

Rafe pouted like a damn child but, miraculously, mostly kept his hands to himself as you dragged him down the street. The man was dead weight who kept leaning into you, his heavy, muscled body pressing into your side.

"Can you walk?" You huffed, struggling under his weight.

"M’walking," he spluttered, sounding genuinely offended.

"You're stumbling like a newborn giraffe.”

Rafe chuckled, rubbing his face against your shoulder. "Love when you’re mean t’me”

You rolled your eyes. "Of course you do, you freak."

The party had been fun—for exactly twenty minutes. Then Rafe, despite all his I swear, baby, I’ll behave promises, had proceeded to down shots like he was getting paid for it. 

He had stuck to your side, arm around you, lips constantly pressing against your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. See, baby? he’d murmured against your skin. M’not even that drunk. 

Clingy drunk didn’t even begin to describe him.

Rafe had spent the next two hours attached to you, breath alcohol-laced against your ear as he whispered absolute nonsense. He was insatiable—every time you turned around, he was either kissing you, grinding against you, or telling everyone who would listen that you were his girl, the best girl, the only girl that mattered.

His hands had wandered, spanking your ass, slipping beneath the hem of your dress like he had no concept of public decency.

He was still stupidly wasted.

Rafe stumbled, nearly taking you down with him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I feel—”

You turned your head just in time to see his face twist in discomfort, his body swaying, our stomach dropped. "No, you do not—Rafe Cameron, don’t you dare,” you snapped, gripping his shirt to keep him upright.

He groaned, clutching his stomach. “Think—think 'm gonna be sick...”

“The fuck you are,” you shot back, already tugging him down the road. “You are not throwing up out here. I am not letting you pass out on the goddamn street, and I definitely can’t carry your heavy ass, so get it together.”

He whined, actually fucking whined, like a kid being denied candy at the store. “But I feel—”

“Walk.”

Rafe grumbled something but miraculously kept moving, though he nearly toppled both of you when he tried to nuzzle into your neck again. “Mmm. Love you,” he murmured, pressing wet, sloppy kisses to your jaw, your ear, any part of you he could reach. “Love ya s’much.”

You cracked—just a little—because, drunk or not, Rafe was always a touchy, clingy mess when it came to you. You sighed, as you led him down the dark road, trying to act annoyed but feeling that mushy tug in your chest “I know.”

"S—saaay it back.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll say it when you’re not about to puke on my shoes.”

A dramatic gasp. “"You—you don’t love me?"

“Dude.”

"Say it baaaack."

"Rafe."

He pouted, leaning his full weight into you again, and you swore you were about to just let his ass collapse on the pavement.

"You’re sooo pretty," he mumbled, voice all dreamy. "So fuckin’ pretty. Prettiest—prettiest girl I ever seen... swear t’god, baby... like an angel or some shit...”

You sighed, readjusting your grip on his waist. "You’re so fucking annoying."

Rafe slurred some more against your neck, his hot breath making you physically recoil. He whuffed, tilting his head dramatically. "Jus' wanna kiss’ya,”

"You’re disgusting."

"’M sexy."

"You reek of tequila."

"B-but— I love you,” he insisted, voice all dramatic, he had just made some groundbreaking realization. His arm tightened around your shoulders, nearly choking you as he clung to you like a goddamn koala. “Tink I might die if you ever leave me.”

 “If you don’t move your ass, I’m gonna leave you—right here.”

You somehow made it another few blocks before he stopped dead in his tracks, groaning as he bent over. Your stomach twisted in anticipation, but before you could yell at him, he straightened back up, blinking at you. “Shit.”

You stared at him, waiting. “What.”

“M’m kinda fucked up.”

“No shit, dumbass.”

He blinked again, then broke into a lazy, drunken grin.

You shook your head, suppressing a smile. “I’m dragging your stupid ass home.” He hummed, leaning down to kiss your cheek. You sighed, finally resigning yourself to the fact that you’d be stuck dealing with his drunk ass all night. “Love you too. Now move.”

He groaned again, slumping further into you. "Wanna hold you." His lips brushed your jaw, his kisses hot, sloppy, desperate. "Baby, just lemme—"

You shoved his face away, trying not to laugh at how absolutely ridiculous he was. "Not while you're about to vomit on me, you fucking menace."

He pouted, eyes all big and glassy like some lovesick golden retriever. "Prettiest girl in the world."

You sighed, trying to resist the affection. "I know."

"S-say it backkk. Tell me ’m your prettiest boy."

You snorted, knowing you were gonna use this shit against him in the morning, “Get off of me, you giant fucking toddler.”

"Never."

Before you could shove him away again, Rafe’s turned into the hulk—pressing your back was against the nearest car.

“What the fuck—"

"Hi," he blinked down at you while his hands splayed against the cool metal behind you, trapping you between the car and him.

You squirmed, trying to duck under his arms, but Rafe just grinned, leaning in until his lips were brushing your ear. "Where d’ya think you’re goin’?"

"Home," you huffed, shoving at his chest. "Without getting humped to death by my drunk boyfriend."

"But I need youuuu," he groaned, voice all wrecked. "Fuck, baby, you don’t get it. I’ve been thinkin’ bout you all fucking night, and you—" he pressed his hips against yours, making you gasp—"you feel me?"

You did, hating how fast heat crawled up your spine, how your body responded to him instantly despite how fucking annoying he was being.

"Rafe," you warned.

"Baby," he mocked, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to your throat. ���Lemme have this,” His voice was thick, his hands skimming to your waist, gripping your hips, tugging you closer despite how little space was between you already.

“You’re not fucking me here.”

Rafe just grinned. "No?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your jaw.  His lips trailed lower, sucking at your pulse, making you shiver.  “Can't even fuckin’ think s-straight."

“You can’t think straight because you’re hammered."

"Nah," he murmured, "M’ drunk on you."

You groaned. "You're so fucking corny, I swear to—"

Rafe cut you off with a kiss.

Sloppy, deep, needy.

His hands were groping your cheeks so tight you knew you’d feel it in the morning. His tongue licked into your mouth as he shamelessly moaned against your lips, grinding into you like a bitch in heat.

"You taste so fucking good," he moved  to your neck again, sucking at the skin, "Gonna wake up tastin' you, fuck—"

"Rafe—"

"Bet you’re soaked for me right now," he groaned, hand gripping your jaw, tilting your head back so he could kiss down your throat.

Your entire body burned. "Oh my fucking god, Rafe—"

"I love you," he muttered into your skin. "Love this fucking body. Love the way you feel, the way you—"

And then, his whole body tensed.

"Baby—" his face twisted in discomfort. "Oh fuck."

Your stomach dropped. "No. No, no, no. Do not—"

“Think 'm gonna be sick,” he swayed on his feet.

You grabbed his shirt with both hands, yanking him upright with all your strength. "You are not about to throw up after whispering the nastiest shit into my neck like five seconds ago—"

He gripped your arms, blinking at you all slow and dazed. "’M serious, babe, shit’s—not good—"

"So help me god."

Rafe took a few stumbly steps away from you, suddenly lurching forward with a groan. His body bent before you could grab him again, he was kneeling on the ground, his hands clutching his stomach as he made a noise that made you wince.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” you muttered, running a hand over your face in exasperation. This was not how you planned to spend the rest of your night. 

Rafe's voice was hoarse as he sat back on his heels, eyes red-rimmed. “I didn’t mean—didn’t mean to—"

“I know. You’re just—" You paused, looking down at him, the man who couldn’t even sit up straight. “You’re an idiot.”

He grinned, his eyes hazy, clearly missing the sarcasm. “But I’m your idiot,” he slurred, and it was hard not to feel the affection despite how much of a pain in the ass he was being.

"Yeah, you are," you said, finally kneeling down beside him.

Rafe let out a half-giggled, half-groan sound, leaning into you as he tried to catch his breath. "Can we jus’ go h-home? Swear, never drinkin’ again. M’ sorry…”

You knew that was a lie, but you also knew he was genuinely miserable right now.

You sighed, wiping a hand down your face as you helped Rafe to his feet. He wobbled, gripping your shoulders. His face buried in the crook of your neck. “Y’so good t’me,” he mumbled, his breath hot and sticky against your skin.

“You say that now,” you muttered, adjusting your grip on his waist as you continued dragging him down the empty street. “Wait till you wake up tomorrow and realize I recorded half the shit you said tonight.”

Rafe made an exaggerated whimpering noise. “Baby, nooo.”

You snorted. “Baby, yes.”

Every other step, he either tripped over his own feet or stopped dead in his tracks to dramatically profess his love for you. By the time you finally made it to his driveway, your arms ached from holding him up,.

You shoved the front door open and all but dragged Rafe inside. The house was dark and quiet, Ward was out of town, and Rose was probably dead asleep, thank god. The last thing you needed was a lecture from her about how “boys will be boys” while Rafe was in the middle of trying to hump your leg like a golden retriever.

You maneuvered him toward the stairs, dreading the climb. “Up we go.”

Rafe blinked at you like you just asked him to solve a math equation. “That’s—” he tilted his head, “—so many stairs.”

You exhaled sharply. “You are a six-foot-something, gym-rat motherfucker. Get your ass up the stairs before I leave you here.”

He pouted but complied, albeit slowly. You stayed behind him, hands on his back to make sure he didn’t topple over and eat shit halfway up. He wobbled a few times, but eventually, you managed to get him into his bedroom and onto the bed with an unceremonious plop.

Rafe rolled onto his stomach, face buried in the pillow. “Dying.”

“You’re not dying,” you said flatly, grabbing a water bottle from his nightstand and uncapping it. “Drink.”

He peeked up at you with bleary eyes. “Don’ wanna.”

You sighed. “Rafe.”

“Baaaaby.”

“Drink the water.”

Rafe grumbled but obediently took a sip, grimacing like it physically pained him. You shook your head, amused despite yourself. You kicked off your shoes and climbed onto the bed beside him, brushing his sweaty hair off his forehead.

“Feel like shit,” he muttered, pressing his face into your palm.

“That’s what happens when you drink your weight in tequila.”

 “’M never drinkin’ again.”

 “Sure.”

“I mean it,” he insisted, grabbing your hand and pressing a sloppy kiss to your wrist. “Jus’ gonna stay home with you forever. Never leavin’ this bed.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah.”

Rafe hummed, eyes slipping shut. His breathing slowed, his grip on your hand loosening as exhaustion finally overtook him.

You sighed, settling in beside him, your fingers still tangled with his. 

You found yourself staring at him as he slept—mouth slightly open, hair a mess, snoring just a little. 

A year, a whole damn year of this. Of dealing with his bullshit, his temper tantrums, his insufferable ego—but also his stupid soft side, the way he always pulled you in closer, how needed to be near you like you were oxygen or some shit.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be this girl, the one who loved Rafe Cameron. Yet, here you were—pathetically, hopelessly, disgustingly in love with him.

With a quiet sigh, you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead and pressed the lightest of kisses there. “Idiot.”

The next morning, Rafe woke up with a dramatic wail, immediately burying his face in the pillow. His entire body hurt like a bitch, his mouth was dry as a fucking desert, and his head was pounding, going off inside his skull.

“Fuck,” he rasped, voice rough with sleep. His stomach twisted in protest, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the nausea.

You, on the other hand, were already sitting up beside him, scrolling through your phone like you hadn’t spent half the night wrestling his drunk ass into bed.

“You look like shit,” you said casually, not even bothering to glance at him.

Rafe groaned, dragging the pillow over his face. “Feel like shit.”

“That’s what happens when you go full frat boy mode.”

He grumbled something incoherent into the pillow before peeking up at you with bloodshot eyes. “Sweetheart…”

You arched a brow. “What?”

“Fix me,” he stretched an arm out toward you like a spoiled prince demanding attention.

 “Now you want me to fix you?” You leaned down, brushing his hair back. “You don’t remember the absolute nonsense you were saying last night, do you?”

Rafe hesitated, blinking at you. “…What nonsense?”

“Oh, you know,” you said, smirking. “Telling me I’m the prettiest girl in the world. Saying you’d die if I ever left you. Practically dry-humping me in the street.”

Rafe squeezed his eyes shut, rolling onto his back and draping an arm over his face. “Kill me."

You grinned. “I got videos too.”

He looked absolutely miserable. “Baby, please.”

You pushed yourself out of bed. “I’ll get you some Advil and water.”

Rafe watched you, his lips twitching up despite his pain. “Told you you love me.”

You tossed a pillow at his face. “Shut up and suffer.”

[calypso-rt]

bookworm III

-> blurbs pt. I + blurbs pt. II + blurbs pt.IV

-> rafe x bookworm!reader

You should’ve known the second you mentioned book club that Rafe would take it as a challenge.

"I have to close early tomorrow night. Book club’s meeting here this week."

Rafe, who was leaning on the counter eating one of the muffins he brought (for you, but he always ended up eating half), perked up immediately.

"Book club?" he repeated, muffin paused mid-bite.

You nodded, sliding a volume into place. “Yep. Small group. Mostly regulars. Very nerdy.”

He grinned. “I’m comin’.”

You laughed. “You don’t even read the books.”

"I can read," he said, deeply offended. “Also, I like hangin' out here. And I wanna see what the hype is.”

You tried to warn him. You really did.

"It’s... a lot of older ladies. They take it seriously."

"I take things seriously," he shot back. Then smirked. "Especially you."

And that was the end of that.

The next night, you set out tea and cookies, rearranged the chairs in a circle, and, right on time, Rafe walked in. Wearing a crisp, ironed button-down. With his hair actually styled. And carrying a battered copy of The Great Gatsby he’d clearly panic-bought that morning.

"Hey," he whispered, slipping into a seat next to you. “I’m ready.”

You gave him a Look. “You actually read it?”

"…I read the back," he whispered proudly. “And a few pages. He throws parties, right? I can relate.”

You bit back a smile. “Just... try not to dominate the conversation.”

"Me? Never."

Five minutes in, the ladies were thrilled to have Rafe there.

"Oh, honey, we’ve heard about you," Miss Eleanor said, patting his arm. “The handsome one who keeps buying up all the poetry books.”

Rafe flushed pink. “Well, she makes this place hard to leave.” He shot you a quick smile.

You wanted to be annoyed that he was stealing focus off the book but the way he leaned in when you spoke? How he asked questions even though he was clearly lost? How he kept looking at you like you were the smartest person in the world?

Yeah. You couldn’t be mad.

When it came time to discuss symbolism, one of the ladies asked: “What do you think the green light means, Rafe?”

He sat up straight. Cleared his throat.

"Uh, yeah. That’s like... the thing he wants but can’t reach. Like… uh…" He glanced sideways at you. “…You know. Dreams. People. Stuff like that."

You blinked. That was... actually not bad.

Miss Eleanor beamed. “Well said, dear!”

Rafe looked so proud of himself you could’ve melted. After everyone left, you were stacking chairs when he wandered up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist.

"Told you I could handle book club," he murmured smugly into your ear.

You laughed, leaning back against him. “You barely knew what was happening.”

"Yeah, but you were impressed."

You turned in his arms, grinning. “Maybe a little.”

"Cool," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly. “Next week’s book?"

"Moby-Dick."

He groaned. “You’re tryin’ to kill me.”

"Guess you’ll just have to hang out here more so I can help you.”

Rafe’s grin was instant. “Deal. Now speaking of dick..."

...

It started because you’d been sighing over the love letters in your latest book club read: an old, worn copy of 'Persuasion'.

"Can you believe this letter?" you’d said, dreamy-eyed, reading the passage aloud. “'You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope.'”

Rafe, sitting at the counter with a coffee, had blinked. “Kinda dramatic.”

You gave him a Look. “It’s romantic.”

"Yeah. Well… maybe I’ll write you one," he mumbled, trying to sound casual.

You grinned, knowing full well Rafe Cameron probably hadn’t written anything longer than a text since high school. “I’d love to see that.”

Cue: Rafe Cameron absolutely panicking.

The next afternoon, he was in his truck with a blank piece of paper and a pen.

"Okay, letter. Gotta use big words. She likes big words."

He dug through the glove compartment and found a crumpled receipt which he used to scribble “synonyms for love” on the back. Thirty minutes and about five ruined drafts later, he ended up with this:

Dearest (your name),

You are an exceptionally luminous individual whose presence makes my days approximately 300% better.

When you smile, it is comparable to... the sun? Or like, a really good sunrise. I don’t know how to say it fancy but it messes me up. In a good way.

I would do literally anything to see that smile every day. I would read more dumb books. I would put Pride and Prejudice in the correct section. I would even sit through another three-hour book club.

I like you. A lot. Maybe even love you. Probably love you. Definitely love you.

Rafe

P.S. If this letter sucks, it’s because I’m not good at letters, not because I don’t mean it.

He left it on your counter early the next morning without telling you. You found it a few hours later, tucked between Persuasion and your planner. By the time Rafe strolled in later that day, trying to act casual, you were waiting.

"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “So. Uh. Did you, like... see anything... or…”

You just grinned, holding up the letter.

"This is the sweetest, most perfect thing I’ve ever read."

Rafe’s ears turned bright red. “Yeah? You liked it?”

You stepped forward, tugging him down by his collar. “I loved it.”

And when you kissed him softly he was pretty sure no fancy words in the world could explain how he felt about you.

bookworm comeback

[moondustbaby]

You’re So Annoying

Bsf!Rafe x Bsf!Reader

Summary: While getting ready for a night out, Rafe’s classic habit of being annoying turns into something softer and maybe something you’ve both been avoiding for a long time.

⸻

“Are you almost done?” Rafe groans dramatically from behind me, flopping down onto my bed like he’s been suffering for hours.

“We’re gonna miss, like, half the night at this point,” he complains, voice muffled against my comforter.

I roll my eyes at him in the mirror, steadying my mascara wand. “Rafe. It’s literally been twenty minutes. Chill.”

He lifts his head just enough to squint at me. “Feels like twenty years.”

I ignore him, focusing on my lashes, but in the mirror, I catch him getting up and wandering which is never good. Rafe bored in my room is dangerous.

He picks up random stuff from my dresser, lifting a bottle of perfume and giving it an aggressive spritz into the air.

“Is this new?” he asks, cringing when it accidentally hits him right in the face.

“It’s like… flowers? And sadness?”

“It’s literally vanilla,” I deadpan. “You’re so dramatic.”

He shrugs, smirking, and then horrifyingly heads for the drawer.

“Rafe, no,” I warn, still mid-eyeliner.

He grins like a gremlin, yanking open the second drawer of my dresser, the one I specifically keep my underwear in.

“Ohhh, what’s this?” he says, victorious, holding up a tiny scrap of pink lace between his fingers. “These are new.”

My entire face bursts into flames. “RAFE!” I screech, spinning around in my chair.

“Put that DOWN!”

He laughs so hard he almost drops it, tossing it back into the drawer without a care. “Damn, you’ve been holding out on me. Didn’t know you were out here stockpiling secrets.”

I shove the drawer closed with my foot, glaring. “You are the worst.”

“You love me,” he says, grinning like an idiot as he flops back onto my bed dramatically again, arms spread out wide.

I turn back to the mirror, heart hammering way too hard for what just happened, trying to focus on lining my lips. But then I feel it—him moving again.

In the mirror, I see Rafe come up behind me, hands sliding casually into the pockets of his jeans, watching me finish my makeup like he belongs there.

He rocks back on his heels, close enough that I feel the warmth of him.

“Why do you need makeup anyway?” he mutters, just loud enough for me to hear. His voice is a little rough around the edges, almost shy, which is weird because Rafe Cameron is never shy.

I blink at him in the mirror, caught off guard. “What?”

“You’re already pretty,” he says, like it’s a fact, like it’s obvious, like he isn’t single-handedly responsible for making my hands shake while I try to cap my lip gloss.

I swallow, feeling my cheeks heat. I cover it with a laugh. “You’re just trying to make up for traumatizing me.”

He grins, stepping even closer so he can bump his shoulder against mine. “Yeah, well. You’re still coming out with me tonight, so obviously I’m forgiven.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling — hopelessly, helplessly — because it’s him.

Because he’s standing here in my room, wearing a little bit of my perfume, looking at me like I’m the only thing worth paying attention to, and because even though he drives me insane, I don’t want it any other way.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” I mutter under my breath.

“What was that?” he teases, leaning in like he didn’t hear — but he definitely did.

“Nothing,” I say, smirking.

He just laughs, reaching out to tug a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering way longer than they need to.

And for a second — just one dizzy second — it feels like maybe neither of us is joking anymore.

༶⋆｡ﾟ☽✿⋆˚✧✿☾ﾟ｡⋆༶

a/n: rafe rifling through reader’s stuff like a menace is literally my roman empire. anyway. if a boy sprayed my perfume on himself and then had the nerve to act like it was no big deal i would simply pass away on the spot. unhinged asks, keysmashes, and general chaos are always welcome!!

♥️ lani

Send Me Requests! 💌

Masterlist

[paarksunghoon]

omg imagine heeseung and reader shopping tgt in a mall when suddenly reader decided to hop into victorias secret?? heeseung gets so horny n needy in the changing rooms whenever reader tried on lingeries infront of him so he just fucks her in the changing rooms 💗

this made me go crazy….wrote this last night but forgot to hit publish so here we are

***

Heeseung doesn’t understands why guys don’t like stepping into lingerie shops. His friends always lament about going into a store that’s frilly and too girly, but Heeseung can’t see their point of view. Going to Victoria’s Secret is less of an embarrassment and more of a fantasy to him because every time you hold up a piece of fabric and ask for his opinion, he imagines you wearing it while he’s got you in his bedroom in all kinds of positions.

“Babe?” You call out for him and wave the set in front of his face. “What about this green one? Do you think it would look good on me?”

Heeseung licks his lips. “Yeah, I think so. You should try it on just to make sure.” You light up.

“Good idea! Let me find the dressing rooms.”

He follows behind you and notes the people in the store. There are a few shoppers and a small handful of employees around. He watches you disappear into one of the fitting rooms and hears the door lock. He lets his mind wander as you change.

“Heeseung, you can come in now.”

Your boyfriend stands up and feels his dick straining in his pants at the mere thought of you but the way you look in the lacy fabric makes his mouth drool. He locks the door as you look at yourself in the mirror.

“What do you think? It’s a bit more skimpy than I’m used to…”

“You look sexy.”

You pout. “You always say that.”

Heeseung brings his hands to your hips and toys with the band of the panties, rubbing the pads of his finger against the fabric. “You always look sexy but fuck.” He kisses your shoulder and slides his index finger below the band. “This set barely covers your pussy or your tits.”

He notes the way you look at him through the mirror as if to contemplate. Heeseung’s right, though. The panties don’t cover much. One wrong move and your folds will slip out. He’s right about the bra, too. It offers almost no support and the cups are designed to be so small that the rest of your breasts start to spill out, even when you’re standing still.

Heeseung moves his hand to cup them and brushes his thumbs over your nipples. “I could eat you up.”

“So I should get it?” He nods and keeps flicking your nipples when his lips touch your neck.

“Put it on my card.” Heeseung laughs against your neck when you gasp after he’s slotted his hardened dick against your asscheeks.

“Not in here!” You scold him in a whisper-yell and push his hands off of your breasts. You watch him pout through the mirror and wriggle to free yourself from him but your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you to keep you steady while he grinds himself against you.

“Why not? Thought you loved public sex.”

Your cheeks warm up. “This is different.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“I don’t want to get these dirty before I pay!”

Heeseung chuckles and skips his hand down your panties as he crouches down to his knees. “When I pay. I don’t mind if the see a little wet patch.”

“W-Well I do,” you stutter.

“Mm, okay. In that case, I think we should take these off so you don’t ruin them, don’t you think?”

You watch him slide the green panties down your legs and stand on your toes when he forces your asscheeks apart after you’ve stepped out of them. He tosses it on the provided bench and admires your convulsing hole. Heeseung leans forward and gives you a lick.

Your hand catches the wall as your back arches out. Your chest pushes against the surface to balance yourself out as his big hands stretches your ass apart.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mutters when he brings his thumb to stroke your folds. “Wish I could’ve pulled them to the side instead of take them off.”

You turn around to look down at him, “After we pay.”

He looks up at you. “Right, right. We should take off this bra too, right? So you don’t ruin it?” Heeseung stands up right and pulls your body back to him to unclip it until it falls to the floor. “There. Problem solved.”

Heeseung pulls his dick out, listening to the sounds of people walking just outside. He’s sure that if anybody pays attention to the shadows underneath the open gap from the door, they’d see two shadows. Not that he minds.

“Can’t wait.” His voice is clipped. He pushes your back until you’re gripping the clothing rack for stability as he pushes inside of you. “Need you.”

[thirteenheavens]

can you do ready ovulating and scoups is playing dumb to tease her? 🤭

What’s cooking?|| Choi Seungcheol

Notes: whatttt change of photos hehe enjoy guys will put more later :)

Seungcheol walks into the kitchen, where you're trying to make dinner while suppressing the cramps and heightened desire of your ovulation. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, his chest pressed against your back. "What's cooking, beautiful?" he asks innocently, nuzzling your neck. "Smells amazing."

You try to focus on the stove, but the proximity of his body and the way he's teasing you is making it difficult. "It's just pasta," you manage to say, though your voice comes out slightly breathless. Seungcheol notices your reaction and smirks against your skin. "Are you okay?" he asks with faux concern. "You seem a bit... tense." His hands slide down to rest on your hips, pulling you closer.

"I'm fine," you say, trying to keep your composure. "Just a little uncomfortable." Seungcheol chuckles, knowing exactly what's going on. "Uncomfortable? Maybe I can help with that." His hands start to wander lower, slipping under your shirt to trace circles on your bare skin.

"Come on," he whispers seductively in your ear. "You know what happens when you're ovulating. Don't pretend like you don't want me right now." You whimper as his fingers find your sensitive spots, your body betraying how much you're affected by his touch. "Cheol..." you gasp, struggling to maintain your focus on the food. Seungcheol presses himself against you from behind, his growing erection pressing into your lower back. "What's wrong, baby? Can't concentrate?" he teases, his lips moving to your neck.

"I'm not the one making dinner go cold," he adds with a playful nip at your skin. "Maybe I should take care of you instead." Seungcheol's fingers slide down further, and he lets out a low groan when he feels how wet you are. "Holy shit," he breathes, pressing himself closer to you. "You're soaked."

His teasing demeanor shifts to one of desire as he realizes just how badly you need him. "I didn't think you'd be this bad," he says, his voice rough with need. He spins you around to face him, pressing your back against the counter. "Maybe I should take you right here, since you can't seem to focus on anything else."

"Please," you whimper, looking up at him with desperate eyes. "I need you so badly, Cheol." Seungcheol's gaze darkens with lust as he watches you unravel before him. "Need me to what?" he asks, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Use your words, princess." Seungcheol smirks as he watches you struggle to form words. "Come on, you can do better than that," he says, his fingers trailing lightly up your thigh.

"I want to hear you say it," he continues, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me exactly what you need from me." His thumb brushes against your clit through your clothes, making you whimper and squirm against him. "Tell me how much you need my cock inside you right now."

"I need you to fill me up," you gasp, your hands gripping his shirt desperately. "Need to feel you stretch me open, need you to breed me." Seungcheol's eyes flash with primal hunger at your words. "That's my good girl," he growls, finally giving in to his own desires. He lifts you up onto the counter, spreading your legs wide as he positions himself between them. "You want my babies that badly?" he asks, his cock pressing against your entrance through his pants.

"Yes, yes I do," you moan, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Please, Cheol, I need you to give them to me." Seungcheol's control snaps at your words, and he yanks his pants down just enough to free his cock. "You're so needy for me," he groans, rubbing the tip against your slick entrance.

"And I'm going to give you exactly what you want," he promises, thrusting into you with one hard stroke. "I'm going to breed you right here, right now." Seungcheol sets a punishing pace, his hips snapping against yours as he fills you completely. "You're so tight, even when you're this desperate," he grunts, one hand gripping your thigh while the other plays with your nipples through your clothes.

"Can feel your body trying to milk me already," he continues, his thrusts becoming deeper and more erratic. "You want me to pump you full of my cum that badly?" You dig your nails into Seungcheol's shoulders as he drives into you, the countertop creaking beneath you with the force of his movements. "I'm going to cum soon," he warns through gritted teeth.

"And when I do, you're going to take every last drop," he growls, his lips finding your neck again. "You're going to take it all and pray that you get pregnant from it."

"Please don't stop," you cry out, your walls clenching tightly around him as your orgasm builds. "Need to feel you come inside me." Seungcheol grunts in response, his movements becoming more erratic as he nears his own release. "You're going to make me lose control completely," he pants, his cock throbbing inside you.

"Here it comes, princess," he warns, before thrusting deep and releasing with a primal groan. "Take it all. Take every single drop of my cum." You feel Seungcheol's hot cum flooding your insides, his body shuddering against yours as he empties himself completely. "Fuck," he groans, burying his face in your neck.

"You feel so good like this," he murmurs, his hips still twitching with aftershocks. "So full and marked by me." He stays buried inside you for a moment, catching his breath and savoring the feeling of your body still gripping him tightly. "We're definitely not leaving this kitchen until you're leaking with my cum," he adds with a satisfied smirk.

[blondechariot]

Can I request headcanons for Saja Boys reacting to his female s/o accidentally saw him shirtless and immediately covered her eyes while apologising please?

pairing: Saja Boys x female!reader

warnings: none

disclaimer: not my pic!

I would probably just stare like an idiot

Jinu

You were just looking for your charger.

That’s all. Just a stupid charger.

You tiptoed through the hallway, knowing most of the Saja Boys were scattered throughout the house in various states of post-practice exhaustion. You assumed Jinu would be passed out like the others—maybe even still in his coat.

But when you knocked and cracked the door open to ask if he’d seen your charger… oh.

Oh no.

“J-Jinu, have you seen my—” Your voice died in your throat.

There he was. Standing in front of the mirror. Shirtless. His sculpted back muscles flexed slightly as he ruffled a towel through his hair, droplets of water still sliding down his neck and shoulder blades. His jeans hung low on his hips, and you could just make out the deep lines of his V-line before you immediately squeaked and spun around.

“Oh my—! I—I’m sorry!” you stammered, covering your face with both hands even though you had already turned your back. “I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t trying to—charger! I was just looking for my charger!”

Behind you, there was a pause. Then a low chuckle.

“So you broke into my room to perv on me?” Jinu’s voice was lazy and teasing, laced with amusement.

“I wasn’t perving!” you nearly shrieked, peeking between your fingers. “You—You’re the one walking around like that!”

He padded toward you, slow footsteps against the floor. You felt the air shift as he came closer.

“I live here,” he said, voice close to your ear. “It’s not my fault you came in without knocking properly. You sure you weren’t hoping to catch a glimpse?”

You turned around sharply—still covering your eyes—and blindly pushed him back. “I did knock! I didn’t know you’d be… you know! All abs and everything!”

Jinu laughed again, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Well, now that you’ve seen them… want a closer look?”

Your jaw dropped. “W-What?!”

“Joking,” he said with a wink, stepping past you to pick up a shirt. “Unless… you weren’t joking about being curious.”

You let out a strangled sound and bolted from the room, still covering your eyes, your face hotter than the sun. Behind you, Jinu’s laughter followed you all the way down the hall.

Abby

It was late—past midnight, in fact—and you knew you probably should’ve waited until morning to ask. But you couldn’t sleep, and Abby always seemed to have a calm presence that helped settle your nerves. So, like an idiot, you wandered down the hall to his room with a blanket over your shoulders, intending to ask if he had any extra sleep tea.

You knocked softly. “Abby? Are you awake?”

There was no response.

You hesitated, then pushed the door open an inch. The lights were off, but the lamp on his nightstand was on, casting a warm, golden glow across the room.

And then you saw him.

Standing by the window, shirtless, back turned to you, only wearing black sweats slung low on his hips. His arms were crossed as he stared out at the moonlit sky, muscles taut, patterns faintly visible on his upper back. The light hit his skin just right—like something out of a movie.

You didn’t even breathe. You just stared for one stupid second too long.

And then—he turned.

“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet, but startled. His brows drew together when he saw your frozen form by the door. “Is everything okay?”

“OH—uh! I—!” You clapped both hands over your face, stumbling backward like you’d been burned. “S-Sorry! I—I didn’t see anything! I mean—I did but not in a creepy way! I just—I thought you were asleep!”

You heard soft footsteps approaching. You stayed glued in place, trying to disappear into the doorway.

“Why are you covering your eyes?” he asked softly, voice closer now. “I’m not naked.”

You whimpered. “You might as well be! You’re—You’re like a statue!”

Abby let out a quiet breath—something between a sigh and a chuckle. “I didn’t know my body would scare you so much.”

“I’m not scared!” you protested, peeking at him for half a second—only to catch sight of those firm abs and immediately slap your hand back over your eyes. “Just… surprised. Very… sculpturally surprised.”

There was a pause. Then, softly, “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Your breath caught.

And then he stepped aside, his voice calm and warm again. “You can open your eyes. I’m putting on a shirt.”

You blinked, peeking between your fingers as he slipped a black hoodie over his head. Once it was safely on, you slowly lowered your hands.

“I just wanted to ask if you had any sleep tea,” you muttered. “But I’ll go. Sorry for barging in—again.”

Abby tilted his head slightly, giving you the ghost of a smile. “You can stay.”

Your eyes widened. “Huh?”

He nodded toward the bed. “If you can’t sleep, I’ll sit with you a while. You don’t have to talk. Just breathe.”

You stared at him for a second, heart still pounding from the unexpected show—and from the way his voice was so soft now.

“…Only if you’re fully clothed,” you said, still flustered.

“Deal,” he said with a soft smirk, and patted the space beside him.

Mystery

You didn’t usually enter Mystery’s room.

He was… intimidating, to put it mildly. Always calm, always unreadable, always wrapped in that eerie, beautiful aura that made your stomach flutter and your skin feel too tight. But tonight, you had something important—he’d left his phone on the kitchen counter, and you were pretty sure he’d need it.

So, you gathered every ounce of courage you had, knocked once—lightly—and when there was no response, you opened the door slowly.

“Mystery? You forgot your—oh my God!”

You nearly screamed.

He was there—half turned, standing near the bed. No shirt. Just dark pants that clung to his hips. His lean, chiseled torso caught the light just enough to highlight every sharp muscle, every dip and shadow. His purple hair was damp, pushed back from his face. And his eyes—those strange, pale eyes—locked onto you with unreadable stillness.

You froze. Then panic bloomed in your chest like wildfire.

“I—I’m sorry! I didn’t—I should’ve knocked harder! I didn’t mean to see anything!” you stammered, practically tossing the phone in his direction before spinning around and clapping your hands over your eyes. “I swear I didn’t look! Or—well, I did, but I didn’t mean to—”

“Y/N.”

His voice was low. Smooth. Dangerous in how quietly it cut through your rambling.

You froze. “Y-Yes?”

“You’re still standing in the doorway. With your hands over your eyes.”

“I know!”

There was a pause. You could feel his eyes on you. You didn’t dare move.

And then, to your complete disbelief—he chuckled.

Just once. Soft. Like the sound escaped before he could stop it.

Your jaw dropped.

“…Are you laughing at me?” you whispered, daring to peek through your fingers.

Mystery was now tugging on a black shirt, eyes still fixed on you with that cool gaze. But the corner of his mouth was twitching upward—barely.

“I didn’t think you were the type to get flustered,” he said. “You usually act like you’re immune to me.”

You blushed furiously. “I am! I mean—I try to be!”

His smile grew—small, sly, knowing.

“You failed.”

“I noticed,” you muttered, spinning toward the hallway again. “I’ll just… go die of embarrassment now.”

Before you could bolt, his voice stopped you again.

“You should be more careful,” he said, tone quieter now. “You might walk in on something less innocent next time.”

You turned to look at him, heart hammering. “Was this innocent?”

Mystery’s eyes glittered.

“I’ll let you decide.”

And just like that, he turned away, leaving you red-faced, confused, and very much not okay.

Romance

You knew better.

You knew better than to enter his room without a full warning, a text, a contract, and probably a priest.

Romance had never made it a secret that he enjoyed pushing your buttons—especially when it came to flustering you. But tonight? Tonight you genuinely needed help fixing the strap on your bag, and he was the only one who knew how to adjust the damn clasp.

So, you knocked.

Once. Twice.

“Romance? Are you decent?”

No answer.

You sighed and cracked the door open. “I’m coming in, okay? I swear I’m not trying to—OH MY GOD.”

You froze in the doorway like someone hit you with a spell.

He was lying on his bed—shirtless, of course—propped on one elbow like a damn centerfold. His toned chest and abs on full display, a small towel draped across his hips like it was strategically placed. His long pink hair was slightly tousled, lips parted, eyes half-lidded as he looked right at you.

“Y/N,” he drawled, voice like warm silk. “If you wanted a show, you only had to ask.”

Your soul left your body.

“I-I—No! I—Oh my god—I knocked! I swear I knocked!” You spun around so fast you nearly tripped over yourself, clutching your hands to your face like they might physically hold in your shame. “I thought you were asleep or—clothed!”

He chuckled. Full-on chuckled. “That was your first mistake.”

“I’m so sorry,” you stammered. “I didn’t see anything—Well, I mean I did see—but not on purpose! You’re just—why are you always like this?!”

You heard the bed creak behind you. Your heart stopped.

“I like being comfortable in my own skin,” he said smoothly, footsteps approaching. “But you… You’re so easy to fluster. It’s adorable.”

“Don’t come closer,” you warned, still not turning around. “You better be clothed now. Or at least… mostly.”

He stopped behind you. You could feel the heat of his body—definitely too close.

“I put on sweatpants,” he whispered beside your ear. “Do you want to check?”

Your hands shot up. “No! No checking! Keep your hotness to yourself, thank you!”

Romance burst into laughter then, genuinely amused.

“I just wanted to borrow your help for a bag clasp, not walk in on an entire romance novel cover.”

“You do seem to walk into those a lot,” he mused.

“Because you live in one,” you huffed, finally daring to look back—relieved to see he was, in fact, dressed. Shirtless still, but… at least the towel was gone.

He smirked.

“You sure you don’t want to touch the abs? Just a little poke?”

You bolted. “GOODNIGHT!”

“Sweet dreams, angel,” he called after you, laughing as you fled down the hall like your life depended on it.

Baby

You weren’t even planning to knock. You were just going to drop off the snacks you bought for him outside his door and flee like a stealthy little delivery gremlin.

Baby had been sulking earlier—something about his favorite energy drink being sold out and someone (probably Abby) finishing his last bag of gummies. So you figured he could use a pick-me-up.

You tiptoed down the hall, quietly balancing the plastic bag of snacks, and reached for the doorknob to set it down.

But the door wasn’t closed all the way.

And when you pushed it open just a little—

“BA—”

You immediately choked.

Baby was mid-change.

Shirt half off.

No, scratch that—he was completely shirtless. Just stepping out of his jeans too, boxers low on his hips, headphones still in as he bopped his head to whatever song was playing. He hadn’t even noticed you yet.

But you? You saw everything.

The lean lines of his waist. His surprisingly toned stomach. The way his messy turquoise hair clung slightly to his temple. His back muscles shifting as he reached for a hoodie—

And then you gasped.

Audibly.

Loudly.

He whipped around in shock, yanking out an earbud.

“Y/N?!”

You shrieked and covered your eyes. “I-I-I’m sorry! I swear I didn’t mean to—I thought the door was closed!”

“Why are you covering your face?!”

“Because you’re naked!!”

“I’m wearing boxers!”

“Same thing!”

He scrambled for the hoodie, tugging it on over his head with comical urgency. You peeked just enough to confirm it was on before letting your hands fall, still completely red in the face.

“You really saw everything, huh?” he asked, face pink now too. “Damn.”

“I didn’t mean to! I was just bringing you snacks because you were grumpy!”

“You traumatized us both for snacks?!”

“You traumatized me! Who just stands around changing with the door wide open?!”

He stared at you. Then… snorted.

Then laughed. Full-on belly laughed.

“Okay, okay,” he wheezed. “This is… actually kinda hilarious.”

You looked like you wanted the earth to swallow you whole. “You’re never gonna let this go, are you?”

“Oh no,” he grinned. “This is going into my Hall of Fame. Top ten embarrassing Y/N moments. Number four, easy.”

You groaned.

But then he nudged the bag you were still clutching. “Are those sour gummies?”

“…Yes.”

“Okay. You’re forgiven.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to go—still flustered beyond belief.

“Wait,” Baby called after you.

You paused.

“…Thanks,” he said more softly, hoodie now fully on. “For thinking of me.”

You blinked, surprised by the sincerity. Your face went red all over again—this time for a different reason.

“…Anytime. Just… please be clothed next time.”

“No promises!” he shouted cheerfully as you ran away, hiding your face.

[miupow]

★ ── LE SEXE, JE VEUX DIRE !

what happens when you give the hyung line an aphrodisiac 。 。 。?

꒰୨୧ ꒱ pairing。stray kids hyung line x fem!reader genre。 pure smut , pwp warnings。 aphrodisiacs , sex while intoxicated , breeding kink , primal play , vaginal fingering , oral (m. rec) , deepthroat , unprotected sex , creampies , masturbation (m. rec) , phone sex , diy porn , sex while filming

a/n ⸝⸝ requested skz version of my txt drabble! i’m lowkey not a big fan of this… but here it is anyway lol. [ 0. 7k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

𝔅ANGCHAN

chris is completely sure the aphrodisiac candies you purchased wouldn't do a thing, just a silly marketing gimmick printed all over the foil packaging he turned over in his hands. but you had gotten them as a surprise, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt your feelings– so he casts aside his doubts and eats his share with a smile, ready to put on his best show of pretending to be affected. he wouldn't even be really acting, since you can get him going no matter what... yet to his complete shock reduced to a mess within minutes, panting and squirming above you, his hips canting up to press the swell of his clothed cock against the curve of your ass. his control slips when you grind back against him, pussy drunk and unable to think of anything other than fuck, claim, breed as he flips you over and mounts you like an animal. he’s definitely having you get more of these.

𝔐INHO

minho’s immediate response to you showing him the chocolates was to scold you for wasting money on worthless placebos. there was no way you believed that they would actually do anything, right? but he eats them with you anyway, because you’re very persuasive when you’re pouting. he’ll tell you they did nothing for him at all, as he’s knuckle deep in your pussy, your hot little mouth swallowing his cock to the hilt. he didn’t feel a thing, as he’s lining up his weeping tip to your entrance. he’s completely unaffected, watching with dark hazy eyes as his thick cum leaks out of your hole. those stupid chocolates had nothing to do with how he fucked you until the sun came up. and you let him believe it, because it gives you an excuse to try it again.

𝓒HANGBIN

changbin always finds some way to derail your plans… you had hidden some aphrodisiac chocolates your had bought in hopes of surprising him with them later, but you were never the best at hiding things— your boyfriend finds them within the first day. mistaking them for regular candy, he eats them without a thought; and hours later he calls you desperately from the studio, hiding in the bathroom with his pants around his knees as he fists his aching cock. the lewd wet sounds echo against the tile and harmonize with his pretty low moans, all filtering directly into the phone’s speaker and making your pussy throb. “i need you so bad,” he whimpers, his hand speeding up, “need your pussy so bad…” detailing in a needy groan every nasty little thing he planned to do to you once he got home, the growl in his voice enough to make your legs shake. you hated to ruin the mood, but you just had to know; “binnie, did you eat those chocolates in the pantry?” “um… maybe?”

𝓗YUNJIN

the candies were his idea, actually— he figured they were a perfect addition to the films he liked to make. you couldn’t even call them sex tapes, with how careful and artistic hyunjin was in filming them… but he loved to film often, and was always coming up with new ways to keep things new and exciting. sharing candies between kisses on camera, hands wandering as you lay tangled together on the hotel bed. the both of you growing hotter and needier as time went on, gentle caresses turning into rough manhandling, tugging at each other’s clothes til you were both bare in eachother’s arms. hyunjin looks straight into the camera with a smirk as he flips you over onto your hands and knees, your face buried in the pillow to muffle your scream when he slides his thick long cock into your wet pussy with one firm thrust. he reaches over to pick the camera up off of it’s tripod, angles it down so it gets a clear view of your asscheeks bouncing against his abs from the force of his thrusts, his big hand pressing down on your arched back as his cock splits your creamy cunt open. neither of you last as long as usual, deeply affected by the aphrodisiac and desperate for release— he makes sure to get the best possible angle of him pulling out and cumming on your ass, pearly white ropes of cum decorating your flushed skin like a painting. you’re his favorite work of art, and he just can’t get enough of showing it off.