#how easily he can just....... bend

[guesst]

okay wait but thats . thats really good. i love e soul's arc holy cow theres sm going on

[lustjunkiie]

thinking of old, retired!simon riley who hangs out pubs in his free time. he’s a tank of muscle, with a soft layer of fat over it all. he’s got the peak dad bod, and he’s a bit tanner than he was from working in his back garden. his tattoos are lining his body and he is scrumptious.

and he meets you. young little thing, sweetest bird he’s ever seen. shining, soft grins and plump, curvy edges.

he nearly drops to his knees to pray for you to grace him with your presence when you do it on your own volition. he forgot he was even playing blackball, the cue still held tightly in his hand. he was just practicing, just a hobby.

“mm, can ye teach me how to play?” you ask, and you’ve got a thicker accent than he does. he drinks it up, with a straw and all. he nods, handing you a freshly chalked cue.

you struggle enough to learn the mechanics for him to decide to stand behind you, front pressed to your back as he bends you over with his body weight — one hand on your waist and the other steadying your cue as you aim to break.

fuck. he’s so hot, burning even through your skimpy dress. his voice rumbles in your ear,

“c’mon, birdie, just steady y’rself. even out yer breathin’.” he instructed, as patient as ever.

you beat him when you guys actually started playing! yay! and then… you decided to make a silly little bet.

“if you can beat me,” you whispered in his ear, liquid temptation mixed with the way you were pulling him by his shirt collar down to your level — you knew he could easily beat you — “i’ll go home with you.”

simon has never won a game of blackball so fast.

[classyrbf]

thinking about true form!sukuna who has such an obvious size kink. That man is literally huge and is slanging around two awfully thick and long cocks like it’s nothing. No matter your height or size, everyone is small to him regardless. He’s a tall hunk of muscle, what can you expect. And when he sees you, his new supposed wife, he can’t help but smile, and it’s not a happy smile, it’s an evil, twisted smile. He’s thinking of all the ways he can bend you, toss and hold you down while you take his cocks in your tight holes. He’s thinking about making you watch the way he bulges out of your stomach, pressing your hand down on it just so you know you’re not hallucinating. He wants to watch you struggle taking him down your throat, trying so desperately to fit your pretty little lips around his cock, and gagging on it when you’re not even halfway down. He’s sick for thinking it, he knows, but he doesn’t care. You greet him with respect, kneeling and avoiding eye contact with him, anticipating the day with him as his new bride. You’re just so clueless as to what is going on his head though and he finds it funny how shy you act when he’s gonna have you stuck in a mating press by the end of the night.

And of course, he kept his promise, putting you in all kinds of positions for hours on end, using you like his personal fleshlight. “Ah, my lord! Please!” You cry out, sweat clinging to your skin as he so easily hooks his arms under your knees and moves you up and down on his cocks. “You’re so big! I can’t take it!” You mewl, eyes squeezing shut as you feel another orgasm approaching. Sukuna doesn’t care about your poor attempts at mercy, he’s so entranced by the sight of his thick cocks stuffing your holes to the brim, stretching you out with every inch. You look so small in his hands, so easy to break and he’s obsessed with it. He’ll go all night just to ruin you and fulfill his fantasy.

[surgepricing]

I think about Azula shooters often and their common refrain of "if Azula hadn't had a mental breakdown, she would've won" and I'm here to tell you that no, she wouldn't have.

There is no universe in which Azula was winning that fight with Zuko (or Katara, for that matter).

Azula spent so much of Book 2 being built up as this deadly terrifying force against whom the heroes are badly outmatched that it can be difficult to catch exactly how quickly Zuko is advancing.

Back up a bit to Book One. For the fearsome exiled crown prince of the Fire Nation, Zuko's not that impressive a firebender. He's not bad by any stretch, and he's able to lay the untrained Sokka and Katara flat pretty easily. Then he gets in the ring with Aang, who is an airbending master, and the difference between a regular bender and a master becomes apparent when Aang literally puts his ass to bed:

People have attributed this to the fact that no one's fought an airbender in 100 years, but I think it's also worth noting that Aang (a 12 year old from a pacifist nation) has probably never fought anyone before. Like, ever. And yet the second Aang thinks "okay, I'll attack back", the fight's over.

Zuko's got the same genetic predisposition for firebending talent that Azula does, yet it never seems to manifest because of his mental blocks. At the beginning of the series, he's already so beat down that all he really has is conviction, pride, and anger, so even with training from Iroh (the firebending master, thank you very much), he struggles. Yet throughout Book 2, when he has no time to train because he's on the run, he actually seems to advance faster. The fact that his bending is literally tied to his character arc (as his morals become tangled and he has to fight off aforementioned mental blocks) is pretty brilliant. Like, by the time of the Crossroads of Destiny, Zuko getting his ass handed to him by Aang is a pretty consistent feature of the show--he just can't match wits with him.

Hell, at the beginning of the series, he and Iroh (again: the actual firebending master) launch a combined power surface-to-air attack...which Aang casually swats away into a nearby ice wall. Come the Crossroads of Destiny, however, and Zuko by himself launches this bigass fireball that blows through Aang's defenses.

Zuko advances so quickly that it's scary. That prodigious talent is in him even if it doesn't come through as cleanly as with Azula. Who, by the way, was busy about to get flattened by Katara some few dozen feet away, until Zuko took over and then effectively stalemated her himself.

All of this in retrospect makes it abundantly clear why Zuko's firebending seemed to skyrocket so much when he learned true firebending from the Sun Warriors: it was really the only thing left. He's hard a hard road learning how to fight waterbenders, earthbenders, and airbenders, and even if unconsciously, he's applying the philosophy Iroh taught him about augmenting his bending style with aspects of other styles (see also, the waterbending-like fire whips he uses in the above gif). Once he actually understands fire and how it works, he's got it mastered. Hence why any gap between him and Azula effectively disappears as soon as their next fight--before her friends have betrayed her and her stability goes out the window. There's no real sense of urgency to their fight at the Boiling Rock prison. True, Sokka's presence with the sword helps, but Zuko doesn't look remotely worried and he counters Azula's every attack perfectly.

All her life, Azula only ever learned fire. She was taught by the best people the fire nation can employ, so she knows all the cool tricks, but she's still poisoned by the corrupted firebending practiced in the modern ATLA timeline. Unlike Zuko, who managed to get the basics if nothing else from Iroh (fire comes from the breath, and can be used to survive as much as to kill), Azula has always used fire as a weapon and a means to hurt others. She has no true knowledge of the craft, meaning she's got the same weaknesses as Zhao, she's just better disciplined to the point she can make up for it.

Zuko's victory was a given considering Azula's complete loss of control by the time of Sozin's comet, but even had she been in a perfect mental state, she'd have lost, because in many ways Zuko is simply the better firebender.

And that's the truth of it.

[swytdoll]

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . dilf!eren fucking you whenever and wherever he wants. ₊ ⊹ . ݁

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚dilf!eren who is the kind of man who turns heads without even trying. standing at an impressive six foot two inches, tattoos inked delicately across warm olive skin. his athletic build a testament to years of dedicated workouts and an active lifestyle. his chiseled jawline, adorned with just the right amount of stubble, framed a face that could easily belong on the cover of a fashion magazine. deep-set, piercing green eyes seeming to hold a thousand stories. his tousled hair giving him a rugged, yet sophisticated look.

when he became a dad, all of that doubled. his effortlessly good looks were now complemented by a softer, more nurturing side that made him even more irresistible. the way he had cradled your newborn daughter in his strong arms, the gentle way he kissed her forehead.

unfortunately, your husband becoming a dilf meant other women's gazes also doubling. it was something you had come to expect, but it didn't make it any easier. you could see the way that they glanced at him when he would pick up your daughter from preschool, eyes lingering a little too long, smiles too friendly.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ dilf!eren who's always making sure his babygirl is set, he often sent you money without you even having to ask, ensuring that you and your daughter never want for anything. "just looking out for my pretty little ladies."

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚dilf!eren who can't seem to keep his hands to himself when your parents are over in the next room visiting. hand clamped over your mouth as he feeds you his thick girth inch by inch, the stretch sending your eyes rolling back. "gotta be quiet baby, don't be rude." he's evil. fluidly rolling his pulsating cock into that spongy part that has you grasping the sheets.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ dilf!eren who loves the way you moan when he eats your pussy with his stubble, the way the short hairs prick you, making the sensation of him all the more better. he loves the way he makes you whimper when he pushes your thick thighs flush to your chest and nips your clit hard, making you buck and writhe under his lips and tongue. he loves how you taste, salty and sweet at the same time and the way your body quakes and shudders underneath him. he loves you.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚dilf!eren who fucks you stupid against the kitchen counter as you prep your daughter's after-school snack, cheek pressed against the cold granite, hands scrabbling for purchase. "m'so hungry." but eren's not hungry for food.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚dilf!eren who forgets you're a milf, jealously coursing through him as he watches the man next door flirt with you while you garden. it's nothing but cruel when he fucks you into the sofa, making sure the window is open and your neighbor is outside to hear you being ravaged.

he makes it extra filthy when he bends you over the back of the couch, facing the window, slapping your ass until it holds the color of your tomato plants. the whole neighborhood can probably hear you sobbing with pleasure, the way his name falls from your lips. he knows what he has and the jealousy makes him all the more possessive, he wants the whole world to know that you are his.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚dilf!eren who is always trying to get you pregnant again, fucking you until his sticky cum bubbles from your hole.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚dilf!eren who wouldn't trade being cuddled in bed with his two favorite girls, watching a movie with popcorn, for anything.

find more daddy eren here *ੈ✩‧₊˚

[suksatoru]

katsuki bakugo is, shockingly so, a bit of a romantic. if the matching gold bands adorning both of your fingers wasn't the first indicator, than maybe his love language (cooking, of all things) can prove this notion.

katsuki wears nothing but boxers and an apron in the kitchen for two reasons. one, he rolled out of bed at six am and hasn't stopped his rampage in the kitchen since. and two, he gets hot easily when he's cooking.

it's the morning of your anniversary. your first anniversary with katsuki after getting married. your husband is crafting an absolute masterpiece in the kitchen—the spatula his sword and the plate his shield. today, you're awoken by the sound of his gentle voice coaxing you awake.

"hey, open your eyes, wifey." katsuki mumbles, poking your cheek with his knuckle as he sets your breakfast tray down on your bedside table. he crawls onto the bed, pressing a teasingly hard kiss onto your forehead, prompting you to squirm in his grasp with a whine

"katsuki, you weigh a thousand pounds, please! you're gonna crush me you brute..." you whine into your pillow as he scoffs, maneuvering onto his side of the bed with a grin. he turns his lamp on, enveloping the room in a soft, golden glow.

"happy anniversary, baby." he murmurs as he gently pushes a strand of hair from your face. your eyes shoot open in an instant, and you stare at your husband owlishly before a sleepy grin overtakes your features.

"anniversary! that's today?" you giggle, and he grins smugly while moving to grab your hands, intertwining your fingers with his and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles

"a full year already, huh?" he murmurs against your lips, prepared to kiss you before you turn your head away with a cheeky grin

"morning breath," you comment with an adorably scrunched nose that has katsuki scoffing. with a single palm, he grabs your face and presses the most obnoxious, and oddly loving, kiss right onto your soft lips.

you laugh into his mouth, and he grins sharply, pulling away before peppering a dozen more all over your face. katsuki's kisses were usually rough and passionate in their own manner—but right now, he's taking his time. savoring the feeling of your plush skin against his mouth as he holds you flush against him.

you smile underneath him, feeling like putty before you smell it—absolute heaven—lying just a few feet away.

"breakfast in bed..?! but you said you hate getting crumbs on the sheets!" you laugh, and katsuki rolls his eyes before sitting up. he grabs your tray, setting it down in front of you as he rolls his shoulders, the muscles underneath his apron rippling with the movement.

"i suppose i'll bend the rules just this once. only because we're married, or whatever."

"or whatever," you grin, bopping his nose as he scoffs

"and because i love you...i guess..."

considering how emotionally constipated your husband was, you'll take the win! you hand katsuki his spoon, and the two of you dig into the meal.

the majority of breakfast in bed consisted of katsuki begrudgingly being hand fed by you, a few quips here and there about which one of you would be getting the first gray hair, and basking in the morning glow of the rising sun with your lover.

[wonryllis]

TEMPTING THEM DURING NO NUT NOVEMBER.

─────𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖸 𝖢𝖠𝖵𝖤 𝖨𝖭. 汚い ❛ 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, "𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍" ❜

featuring. enhypen hyung line with fem!r wordcount. 1250 ( around 300 each ) check out the catalogue?

warnings. ⚠︎PG18! public teasing, groping, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, dry humping, car sex, riding, handjob, shower sex, choking, clit rubbing, p in v obviously.

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

heeseung knew he fucked up the moment he agreed to take on the challenge. he knew it so so well, yet he decided he could do it and he could pull through the entire month if tried just hard enough. that he could keep his dick in his pants and not in you.

and it was hard. it is hard. his fucking cock twitching underneath his boxers as you discreetly palm him over his suit pants. right in the middle of a dinner with all his friends sitting around the table. unaware of your indecent touches and the looks you throw at your boyfriend.

batting your lashes at him while biting your lips, grabbing his thigh and then moving your hand up to squeeze his cock. it is absolute torture till it lasts. till his resolve breaks and he immediately drags you along to the nearest bathroom. his friends looking at the scene knowing he's done for— just a week into november.

“shit you just had to make me lose didn't you?” heeseung slaps his hand over your mouth, muffling your loud moans as he drills his cock into you. fast and rough; holding your thigh around his waist in a grip so tight it'd probably leave purple bruises.

he tugs you closer on the counter each time you move back from the force of his thrusts, skin slapping into red, painfully pleasurable marks,“couldn’t keep your hands off my cock for once,” he grunts, brows furrowing as you clench around him every two seconds.

“if you keep doing that baby, i might just knock you up with how much i cum,” he moves his hand from your mouth, his lips immediately find yours in a messy lock, nibbling on your lower lip in supressed groans and pants, his balls tightening up when he feels yours walls clamping onto him hard.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

if muscles could tear off easily. jay would be in shreds right now. the sheer amount of restraint it is taking him, each part of him painfully tense— beyond he ever felt in his entire life. absolute hell he is going through watching you prance around in just a croptop and freaking bikini bottoms.

his eyes almost popping out of the sockets with drooling desire and want for you as he follows along the way you bend over or reach up for absurd and insane reasons. purposely to tease him of course.

he is aware of what you are trying to do. he really is. but he still just can not seem to look away for the sake of his cock and the expensive dinner on line for losing. gaze continuing to follow you as you settle into his lap, arms draping over his shoulders and your ass resting right on top of his now hard cock. oh he's about to lose.

“had this dream last night and— fuck princess you couldn't keep your hands off me and— oh god it was so hot,” jay rambles, his hands gripping your waist guiding you as you grind your drenched folds across his hard cock. back and forth, back and forth. your wet bikini bottoms sliding off to the side each time you reach up to his tip. warm slick smearing over his twitching cock pulled out of his sweatpants just enough.

his soft gasps and grunts filling the room,”gonna lose the no nut but it's worth it,” his eyes stay fixated on your face, watching the way it twists with pleasure and how your lips form an o when you let a moan amidst the constant mewls.

only two days left, but jay just can't resist it anymore. feeling your thighs shake against his and your eyes roll back when he nudges just the tip inside.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

jake's knuckles turn borderline white against the steering wheel. grip so tight he might as well rip it off the console. he tries so hard to focus on the road, to keep his eyes and his mind on the lane. but god you make it impossible with your hand caressing his thigh. his gaze drifting down each time your pinky rubs against his balls. and mind drifting off to danger zone of no nut november.

a sharp intake of breath and a silent curse falling off his lips when your fingers trail over his bulge in a feather light touch.

calm down, calm down, calm down. jake chants repeatedly— don't get hard, don't get hard, changing the words when he inevitably feels himself throbbing and growing stiffer by the second— fucking don't get hard damn it, all futile for his cock practically springs against the fabric of his cotton pants after you brush over his tip. should have worn the goddamn boxers.

“oh yeah— oh fuck yeah— your pretty pussy feels so good baby,” jake groans against your parted mouth, the sounds leaving you, the way you bounce on him, the sweat trickling down between your breasts; oh he doesn't care it's only been four days since he decided to participate in no nut november.

“how did i even think i could live a month without you cumming on my cock,” his hands squeezing your ass, guiding your movements as the car flaps with your lewd squelches in the backseat. the windows fogged up and filled with your moans and jake’s dirty mouth running rampant.

noticing your face scrunching up in pleasure, he immediately moves his hand over to rub your nub in quick circles,”god yes you're gonna cum for me?” his feet planting firm onto the floorboard before he starts pounding up,”me too baby, gonna fill you up so well.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

the cold shower did nothing to help his raging mind. and his raging cock. images of you begging for his cock flashing before his eyes on repeat. you were such a vixen when it came down to sex. knowing exactly how to tempt him in a way he would not be able to be resist.

it's only been ten days. sunghoon reminds himself, a hand rubbing down his face as he tries taking in deep breaths. coming home to you waiting for him right by the front door with fucking bedroom eyes was not something he was ready for. and especially not for the way you tried to persuade him to give up the challenge. pulling him closer by his sweatpants and throwing out the most sensual begs he'd ever heard from you.

it took every cell in him to deny you, rushing into the shower to avoid you before you could notice his boner. he did not lock the door though—

“fuck doll, keep doing that and i’ll cum so hard,” sunghoon throws his head back, water running down his chest and over your pretty little hands jerking his hard cock in sloppy strokes. his hips buck involuntarily, furious and wild despite all the warnings flashing red in his subconscious.

“shit shit shit— fuck wait—” as the tight coil in his stomach threatens to bust, he instantly pulls away. albeit only to push you against the glass wall, haul up your left leg, and shove his cock inside in a brutal thrust. his forehead resting against yours as he fucks rough. rough and mad.

his other hand reaching up to grip your throat in a light choke,”you were so desperate to be fucked, you just had to ruin my challenge didn't you?” thumb pressing onto your windpipe just enough while he stares into your glazed eyes,”so desperate for my cum,”

taglist . . open ! @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @aaa-sia @criminalyun @oddracha @satan-223 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp @laylasbunbunny @riribelle @ancnymcnzjy

[heavenlybodies333]

Daddy’s Little Assistant - R.C

Rafe Cameron x wards assistant!reader

Tell me again how professional you are while I’m fucking you stupid

Ward had rules. Dress modestly. Answer every call. Don’t touch the bourbon.

You’d followed them to a T since day one—pressed skirts, tight buns, soft yes, Mr. Cameron and no, Mr. Cameron. You’d charmed him effortlessly, outshining Rafe in the only thing that ever mattered to him: his father’s attention.

Rafe noticed. He always noticed.

That morning he’d watched Ward hand you the keys to the family boat—the family fucking boat—and say, “You’re the only one I trust with this right now.”

He nearly snapped.

You were in the study that night, alone. Filing something, probably. Looking like temptation in kitten heels, a white blouse tucked into a high-waisted pencil skirt, lips glossed just enough to shine. You didn’t even look up when the door shut behind you.

“Miss Secretary,” Rafe drawled, mockingly respectful.

You flinched, turning to face him. “Rafe. Can I help you?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Funny. That’s supposed to be my line, isn’t it?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he was already crossing the room—casually “You’ve been real helpful to my dad. Filing his papers. Pouring his drinks. Flirting with him like a little—”

“I don’t flirt with your father.”

“Oh?” His tone turned cruel. “Then what do you do? Huh? Smile pretty and bend over every time he drops a fucking pen?”

You backed into the edge of the desk. “You’re out of line.”

“I’m out of line?” he echoed, one hand bracing on the desk beside your hip. “You think you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger? Think a few good manners and tight skirts make you untouchable?”

You held his gaze, sharp and unwavering. “I’m good at my job.”

Rafe laughed, the sound bitter. “Oh, princess. You’ve got every man in this house fooled.”

He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair back into your bun with fingers that lingered too long against your temple. “You play the part so well. But I see through it. I see you.”

You swallowed. “Then what do you want, Rafe? You want me gone?”

He leaned in, “Nah. I want you to admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you like the attention.” His hand found your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of your skirt. “That you like being watched. Liked it when he handed you those keys in front of me.”

Your pulse pounded in your throat, but you didn’t move. “That’s not what this is.”

He smirked, fingers sliding just a little lower. “No? Then what is it? A promotion? A chance to be the new Mrs. Cameron?”

You slapped him.

The sound cracked through the air, sharp and satisfying, even as your palm stung. His head snapped to the side—but he only grinned wider, eyes wild now, feral.

“Touchy,” he breathed, turning back to you. “Did I hit a nerve?”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” you said, trying to sidestep him. But he blocked you easily, chest brushing yours as he crowded you back against the desk.

“Why do you hate me so much?” you asked, voice trembling—not with fear, but rage, confusion. You’d done nothing wrong.

He let out a humorless laugh. “Because he never looked at me like that.”

You blinked. “What?”

“He never gave me the keys. Never said I was the one he trusted. Not once. Not even when I—” He stopped himself, jaw tight. “But you? Walk in here with your shiny shoes and fake little smile and suddenly you’re his golden fucking girl.”

“Because I work,” you snapped. “Because I’m clean, and sober, and I don’t crash his cars or embarrass him in front of clients—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled, slamming a hand down on the desk beside your hip. “You think he gives a shit about any of that? He just likes that you make him look good. That’s all you are. A little doll he can parade around to show he’s still got taste. Still got control.”

You stared at him, chest heaving. “You think you’re so different?”

Rafe blinked, as if you’d slapped him again.

“You act like you hate him, but every time he walks past you, you flinch like you still want his approval. You practically beg for it.”

He said nothing as you leaned in, whispering, “And you hate that I don’t.”

“You want to be in control so bad, don’t you?”

Before you could answer, his hands gripped your waist—tight, bruising—and hoisted you onto the desk. You gasped as your skirt rode up.

“You think you’re above me?” he sneered, yanking your thighs open.

Then he shoved your skirt up and tore your panties down in one vicious motion. The air hit your soaked heat and Rafe just… stared. Like he couldn’t believe it. Like your body was the final betrayal.

“No fucking way,” he muttered. “You’re this wet for me? For this?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

“Slut,” he whispered, almost reverently. Then he spit—right on your cunt. Watched it drip between your folds, his thumb swiping the mess through your slick.

“God, you’re so fucked,” he growled. “You like pretending to be good. Dressing like a little wife. But underneath, you’re just filthy, aren’t you?”

You arched, whining as two fingers pushed into you without warning. He pumped them slow, curling deep, dragging out a cry that echoed off the walnut-paneled walls.

He pumped faster, grinding the heel of his palm against your clit until your thighs were shaking and your moans were desperate.

You came on his fingers, panting, shame burning through your veins as he dragged them out slowly, wet and sticky.

He popped one glistening finger into his mouth and groaned.

"Better than coke."

You were still shaking when he undid his belt with one hand, the buckle clinking, his slacks falling just enough for you to see how hard he was. You didn’t have time to speak before he was fisting his cock, dragging it through your folds, wetting the tip with your release.

“Rafe,” you whimpered, still breathless.

He grinned, feral. “Still so polite.” teasing you as he lined up and thrusted, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal motion. Every thrust hit deep, dizzying. Your blouse had ridden up, your bra askew. You were a mess—moaning, squirming as his thrusts got rougher. Your nails clawed at the desk as he fucked you through your second orgasm, and into your third.

“Not so fucking proper now, are you?” he snarled, snapping his hips so hard the desk shook. “Look at you. Legs wide. Mouth open. Moaning like a whore.”

You scratched at his back, your head tipping as pleasure rolled through you—hot, overwhelming, endless.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. “You gonna cum for me again, pretty girl?

You sobbed his name as your walls clenched around him, the overstimulation making your thighs tremble. He bent you in half, your knees pressed to your chest now, his cock drilling into you from above.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Rafe hissed. “Where do you want it, baby? On your back? Your tits? In that pretty little mouth?”

“Inside,” you begged. “Please—inside, fill me up—” 

He let out a guttural groan, hips jerking wildly as he spilled into you, feeling his warmth fill you. He didn’t move for a long moment. Just panted above you, letting your body twitch and tremble under him.

When he finally pulled out, you felt his cum drip down your thighs, thick and hot.

Rafe smirked, brushing your hair from your face.

“Clean yourself up, sweetheart. Ward’s home in ten.”

And he walked out, leaving you half-naked, shaking, and soaked on top of the desk you once called your workplace.

So much for professionalism.

a/n: daddy i promise that ill never disappoint you😩

MASTERLIST

[caelivir]

“are ya sure yer not dating (y/n)?” osamu suddenly asks his brother during a quiet lunch between the two of them.

atsumu chokes on the grains of rice in his mouth, coughing violently and punching his chest. when he finally settles down, he throws a glare at his brother. “what the hell, ‘samu?”

“that’s not an answer.” osamu continues to press.

“we’re not!” atsumu answers, picking up a piece of chicken katsu with his chopsticks. “i don’t like them like that. they don’t like me like that. we’re just friends.”

the bright red-pink of his ears speak otherwise. you see, osamu knows his twin better than he knows himself. he knows that whatever comes out of atsumu’s mouth is a load of crap. just friends? yeah fucking right.

osamu has never seen his brother look at anyone the way he looks at you, starlight and pure adoration swirling in his irises. he acts as if your every word were an earth-shaking prophecy sent by the heavens. his honey brown eyes stare, and he smiles so gently that it makes him sick.

friends aren’t touchy in the way you guys are. you hold each other’s hand like it’s nothing. with interlocked fingers, atsumu will trace his thumb down the back of your hand for no apparent reason. when you’re bored, you’ll take atsumu’s hand into your lap and play with it, bending his fingers, comparing hand sizes, and running a featherlight touch across the expanse of his palm to see if he’ll react.

osamu notices how you never miss the opportunity to find a seat on his brother’s lap. whether there are no seats of available or ten open ones, you will always choose atsumu. and it’s not like he’s complaining about it. in fact, osamu thinks that he waits for it because atsumu would never want to miss the chance to secure his arms around your waist and whisper into your ear amidst a loud conversation.

and you can’t forget the cuddles, and the hugs that linger longer than they should, and the way you’ll cup atsumu’s face, and the way you play with his piss blond hair.

you’re the one person atsumu lets wear his jersey to his game. he ensures you get the best seat to watch him play. osamu doesn’t miss the way his twin looks at you before every serve or the way you cheer the loudest when he scores an ace.

osamu doesn’t think that someone who “doesn’t like you” would be thinking about you every time they shop. “(y/n) likes this snack”. “(y/n) would love this shirt”. “oh hey, (y/n) showed me this”. “‘samu, should i buy this for (y/n)?”.

osamu has never seen two people so madly in love before. he doesn’t know how you guys haven’t realized it yet. and he can’t keep playing along because atsumu’s katsu looks really good right now.

“right…” osamu chooses to answer, dipping his chicken into the tonkatsu sauce. “i sure hope they’re gonna have fun on that date they have today.”

his brother’s chopsticks clatter onto the table before rolling onto the floor. the sight of atsumu’s open mouth filled with rice is unsightly, and osamu has to suppress his laugh.

“they didn’t tell you?” osamu raises an eyebrow.

“no?!” atsumu suddenly stands, slamming his palms into the table.

“yeah, i think they’re gonna leave soon.” osamu lies easily. there is no date. but of course, does ‘tsumu really need to know that?

the blond twin practically bolts away from the dining table and out of the house. when the door slams shut, osamu grins to himself, reaching for the unfinished plate in front of him.

“he can thank me later.”

atsumu brainrot never ends. something short and sweet bc school is kicking my ass.

[moonstruckme]

One of my favorite little details about your poly!marauders works is how fit and strong James is, especially with how often, and how easily, he picks up or carries around y/n. Could I request a fic with the four of them but he gives the same treatment to his boys as well for whatever reason? Both sounding so exasperated but secretly loving every second of it because they love their sweet strong boy so much and love being babied as well? 🥺

Ahhh yes I can't believe I haven't done this more! It will definitely have to become more common in the poly marauders drabbles, thanks angel <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 670 words

By the time the credits roll, you’re all drifting off. Sirius’ eyelids are drooping where his head rests on your chest; Remus is snoring softly on James’ shoulder. You and James share a fond look as you turn off the telly. 

You sit in silence for a few moments, your sitting room dark but for the orange glow of streetlights coming in through the window. Unwilling to end the peaceful night. 

“Alright,” James sighs after a moment, worming his arms underneath Remus’ legs and torso. Remus begins to rouse as he does, but he’s in the air before he catches onto what’s happening, hoisted up against James’ chest. 

He makes a sleepy, demurring sound. 

“You’re alright,” James reassures him in a soft voice. Your heart thumps, smitten. “We’re only going to bed.” 

Remus mumbles something like, “You don’t have to…” 

James shushes him. Remus is easily mollified, letting his head settle in the crook of James’ neck as he’s carried down the hall. You watch them go with a warm, goopy feeling in your chest and a tickle of amusement at your own fascination with the way James’ arm looks hooked under your boyfriend’s knees. 

You coil a piece of Sirius’ hair around your finger absently. “That was rather fit,” you murmur to him, “wasn’t it?” 

You could swear Sirius’ breathing evens out only just then. His head weighs heavier on your chest. 

You give a soft laugh. “Fraud,” you whisper. 

Sirius begins to snore. 

You sigh. “James,” you call quietly. 

No answer. 

“James.”  

Heavy but considerate footsteps sound in the hall. “Hm?” he asks as he peers around the corner. His expression softens when he sees Sirius. “Oh.” 

“I’m trapped,” you say. 

“I can see that. Never fear, I’ll rescue you.” James stoops, lifting Sirius as he had Remus. Sirius puts on a very good show of acting groggy, nuzzling James’ shirt a little as he turns into his chest. 

James smiles. You see his thumb sweep over Sirius’ shoulder. “I’ve got you, love,” he promises. 

You snort, and he gives you a funny look, but you know you see Sirius’ lips twitch before he’s taken down the hall. 

You consider feigning sleep yourself for a handful of moments. It probably wouldn’t be very convincing, but you think James would likely play along anyway. In the end, he comes back to the sitting room without prompting, giving you a puzzled look. 

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” he asks. 

You wet your lips, shy but unable to contain your smile. “I am,” you admit. “I just don’t know if I have the energy to walk there all by myself.” 

James, for the indignant air he tries to put on, is unable to hide his smile either. “You want a lift too, do you?” 

“Please?” you ask sweetly. “Everyone else got one.” 

Your boyfriend—your sweetheart—doesn’t even feign reluctance. He kisses the top of your head as he bends to get his arms under you, and you twine yours around his neck happily. His chest is warm and reassuringly solid. If you weren’t already home, you would be now. 

“Are we tiring you out?” you ask, somewhat contritely, as he lifts you from the sofa. 

James makes a quiet pffting sound. “You lot? Angel, I bench two hundred.” 

“You know I don’t know what that means.” 

“It means that I could lift the three of you together, and it wouldn’t be as much as I lifted at the gym yesterday.” 

“Doesn’t that mean you’re already sore, though?” 

“Not so sore,” James kisses your hair, sounding amused, “that I can’t help my loves to bed. Alright? Don’t worry about me, lovie.” 

He places you in an empty spot at the end of the bed, rounding it to lie in his spot by the nightstand where he leaves his glasses each night. As you roll over, getting comfortable with your head on the pillow, you hear a murmur so quiet it might only be air. 

“You were right,” says Sirius. “That was very fit.”

[rottingpink]

WHEN HANDS WANDER | RAFE CAMERON

masterlist

cw: major perv! rafe, flirting, implied age gap (rafe is 4-5 years older), coercion, naive! reader, massages, raw sex, floor sex, missionary, breeding, MDNI

synopsis: naive athlete! reader feels stiff and tense and needs a massage before a big game. how will her friend's brother, Rafe, help her out?

Rafe would be listening outside the door of Sarah's room like this while you whine to her about your body. He wasn't trying to eavesdrop, per se, you were just really loud and didn't seem to care about who overheard your conversation. Plus, when you were talking, you sounded all soft and whiny, and he really liked that. How you sounded so fucking sexy when you were frustrated.

His body slows instinctually and he leans near Sarah's door, listening into your complaints. "I'm gonna die, Sarah," You were saying. He could picture what you looked like right now. Probably splayed on Sarah's bed in those tiny, low waisted shorts and little baby tees you always wore to be "comfortable".

"My back hurts like a bitch. I've been stretching constantly, I swear, but my body's just getting tighter and more stiff, and my performance in games has been sooo bad. i'm ruined, i swear."

Rafe hears Sarah mumble something back, but he mostly tunes her out, hyper focused on you. His mind's locked on the way your voice rises in pitch and gets a little breathier with each passing moment, and every time you shift on the bed, you'd let out a little moan of pain.

Was it normal to get hard just from breathing and whines? Maybe Rafe just had a problem. "I just feel so stiff," You whine some more, dragging out each syllable so your voice comes out all slow and sensual. "I can't even bend over without something locking up. What if I go out into my game and look like an idiot? That'd be the end of me."

Rafe scoffs, pressing his ear more firmly against the door now, wanting to be sure he doesn't miss any of your little sounds. Fuck, you sounded hot when you were being overdramatic. He liked how petulant you always were, because it'd keep him on your toes. It all just made him want to spank you for being such a brat, and then fuck the attitude right out of you.

Rafe struggles to hear you over the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears, his focus solely on the delectable sounds of distress spilling from your lips. You shift again, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth to stifle the groan that surges up from his chest at the little moan of pain you let out, no doubt from some muscle twinge or another.

Surely Rafe's big hands could get those kinks easily. He knew how to use his hands. He had experience.

Imagining you going still under him, mewling softly when his hands spread your thighs to massage your glutes and the insides of your thighs, of him convincing you that the only way you'd feel better is if he slides two thick fingers into your pussy... he throbs, stepping back. He can't handle much more of your whines and his daydreaming without nearly soiling his pants. He'd be back later, after he took care of the raging boner you gave him...

Later, you're almost to your bike at the end of the Cameron's driveway when you hear footsteps behind you, getting closer. "Yo," Rafe calls out, his voice smooth. "Where you going?"

You don't stop walking, but you slow your pace just a little. You know he won't back off until you give him some kind of answer, so you glance back at him. "Nowhere, Rafe." you muse back. He's so used to you acting this way around him, to keeping things casual, pretending you're not affected by him when you absolutely are.

"Come on," Rafe presses, his steps quickening as he matches your pace. He's close now and you can feel the heat radiating off him. "Just tell me. You've got me all curious now, princess." He's grinning, gaze flickering down to your lips momentarily, then back to your eyes.

You just give him a little shrug, like you're not interested in playing his game anymore. "I'm just heading home," you murmur. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he makes you nervous, and so you back away a little. "Hmph. Not that it's any of your business."

Rafe doesn't even falter, though. He steps in front of you before you can take another step. There's no hesitation in his body language because he's really got the confidence to match his cocky grin, and he's never been shy about using it on you. "Not my business?"

You try to move around him, but he steps in your path again, blocking you effortlessly. His body is like a wall, and for a second you don't know whether to be annoyed or turned on. He's always like this, making you feel like you can't get away from him.

You stare up at him, his blue eyes piercing into yours. He does this thing where he refuses to break eye contact until you look away, and when you do, he bends his head forward to chase wherever your gaze is pointed to put his face in your line of sight. He leans forward just a little, his voice dropping low. "Look," he says, drawing out the word like he's talking to a kid. "You're heading home, hm? What, you think you're just gonna leave me hanging, not even tell me where you're going? I don't think so."

You exhale sharply, feeling heat in your cheeks now, but you don't back down. Instead, you cross your arms over your chest, trying to hold onto your composure. "I don't owe you anything," you say, but even you can hear the uncertainty in your voice. You're trying to play it cool, but the closer he gets, the harder it is to pretend.

Rafe notices, of course. He's always been good at reading you, and now he leans in a little more, his lips just inches from your ear. You can feel the heat from his body, his breath brushing against your skin, and it makes you shiver despite yourself.

"I heard you talking to Sarah earlier." He steps in closer, just close enough for you to feel his chest almost touching yours. "You're so tight from training, aren't you? I can help with that."

You're silent for a beat, unsure how to respond, and when he sees that, he leans in a little more, his hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is gentle, but it makes you suck in a breath, and you hate that it's so hard to keep it together around him.

"Come on," he coaxes, his voice practically cooing now. "Let me take care of you. I've got really good hands."

You take a step back, hoping to break the tension, but he follows you, matching each step. You're trying to stay firm, but there's something in the way he's looking at you, the way his hands are hovering around you like he's barely holding back.

"Of course you were spying on me. Creep." you scoff.

"I'm not a creep," he says a little too defensively, leaning down so his face is right in front of yours. "I'm just keeping an eye on you. Better than some random guy feeling you up, during a massage. You know me. I'll be better for you."

You hold his eye contact for a moment, before giving him a little push back, scoffing a bit in a way that confirms that he succeeded in persuading you. "Ugh, fine. My house will be empty tonight. Everyone's out. I'll be alone."

"Good." he says, voice smooth. "I'll come by at 10, then. And you can stop pretending you don't want me... to help you out."

You turn to leave, but before you can, he calls after you, his voice teasing. "Don't wear much, sweetheart. Need to make sure nothing's restricting the flow of circulation."

You roll your eyes, hurrying off with your heart pounding.

-

You're on your tummy in your basement, laying on a cushy gym mat a couple inches off the ground with Rafe hovering over you. You actually listened to him when he said not to wear much. Actually, you seemed to have gone all out. There's not a single piece of fabric on you other than the little pair of panties covering your butt. The rest of your body, glistening and smooth and soft, is bare for his eyes to take in.

Rafe's floored, to say the least. His brain is malfunctioning, eyes going from your smooth back, to your waist... hips... your plush ass, and then finally, your core, which is barely covered in the thin cloth of your panties. Fuck... jerking off twice in one day wasn't enough to prepare him for this.

He huffs out a breath, starting with digging his palms into your shoulder blades, rolling them repetitively like he's got any idea what he's doing. You moan softly, eyes fluttering shut, making him bite down his lower lip in response. His thumbs dig into your back a little too hard, and he hears the little whimpering sound you make. Rafe tenses, having to do a little pause to shake himself out of it and dial it back so he doesn't get overexcited and ram his cock into you.

You're soft everywhere, he starts to realize. And warm. You hum softly every time he loosens up one of your sweet spots, and the noises you make make him so much more eager to know what you sound like when he's touching you where you're extra sensitive, and so his hands keep slipping. Grazing just too close to your nipples when he reaches around to massage your chest.

You gasp, your back arching just the tiniest bit as you blink your eyes open. "Ah! w-wait… is it supposed to feel like that there? All tingly?" Rafe freezes as you turn to look over your shoulder at him, clutching the mat with both hands. "Feels tingly, hm?" He murmurs, voice teasing. "Right here?" He intentionally cups handfuls of your breasts, flicking both your nipples. You jolt and cry out, squirming underneath him.

"Mmhm! R-rafe!" You moan out his name, jolting forward like you'd just been electrocuted. There's something very odd about the way his touch makes you feel, like heat spreads around your body and you can't seem to sit still. You rub your thighs together to try and soothe some of the heat coursing through you.

Rafe exhales hard like he's been holding it in for a while, hands cupping your breasts but not squeezing them again. He's being very careful so that you don't realize what he's doing is pretty far from a massage and that he's just feeling you up. He speaks again, telling you something he hopes you'll believe.

"Mhm... that's normal. Means I'm doing everything real good."

What he doesn't say is that he's about ten seconds away from flipping you over and finding out exactly what other spots make you feel tingly. That little pair of panties barely counts as clothing. They're riding up in the back, too, showing off the curve of your ass like you wanted him to stare, and you wiggle slightly underneath him, shifting your hips, and he nearly groans out loud.

"Why're you moving so much?" he mutters, voice low. "Stay still."

You pout, all innocent, "I'm just trying to relax."

His palms slide down again, pressing into the small of your back and gliding down to your hips. "Mm. Sure you are." His thumbs find the tops of your ass cheeks and press in gently. "You always relax in just your panties? Or is this just for me?" Your thighs squeeze together again, though you don't see how Rafe's eyes snap to the movement, and his dick twitches against your ass. He's so keyed in on you right now that he's buzzing. "You're the one who told me not to wear too much," You huff, moaning softly.

He sits back on his heels for a second, just to look. Your body is tiny in his huge hands, your back arching real pretty. The way your panties are hugging your plump pussy lips makes his jaw clench so tight it hurts. He swipes a hand down his mouth like that'll help him focus, his eyes rolling back a little. He can't take this. Feels like his dick will explode any second now. Maybe he could just convince you his load is some body cream if he does accidentally finish on your ass. "Feel's so good, more!"

He swallows thickly and leans forward again, hands slipping over your thighs now, trailing down until he's brushing just above your knees, then dragging them up, up, up again, grazing the sides of your ass with his thumbs this time.

"You know…" he says, voice low and teasing as he bends even closer, mouth practically at your ear now. "Most people wear more than this. Not just these tiny little things." He swipes his fingers across the waistband of your panties, letting it catch and snap lightly against your butt. You gasp, and he grins, pleased with himself.

"You're not most people, though, are you?" he says. "You're my special little tease." His hand fully cups the swell of your ass, fingers digging in a little harder than necessary like he's trying to convince himself you're real.

He doesn't move right away, his fingertips denting into the soft flesh like he's sculpting you. His thumb slides in toward the center, right where the curve dips down, and he grazes over the stretched fabric clinging to your core.

Then he shifts, lowers himself even more. Now he's straddling your calves, his weight heavy on you. The position forces him closer, lets him reach more of you without having to stretch.

"Mm, need to loosen you up right here," he murmurs, digging his thumbs into the tops of your thighs now, massaging slow circles just beneath the curve of your butt. "So tense, baby. That's not good for you."

His fingers knead into the backs of your thighs, spreading them just enough for your panties to pull tighter against your pussy. He watches it happen like a man possessed, staring openly at the way the fabric pushes up against your hole, admiring the little damp spot that's formed.

His hands slide further down your legs now, curling around your thighs and calves, squeezing, trailing back up, brushing the sensitive skin behind your knees and up along the insides of your thighs this time.

"Bet you're warm here," he says, his voice practically a whisper now as he presses a thumb against the inside of your thigh, just shy of your core. "And you're soaked down here, too."

You're a flushed, panting mess at this point, your eyes hazy and hands clenched up. "D-dunno what that means..." He groans at your innocence, slowly pulling your panties down your legs. "That's okay. Just close your eyes and let me check, kay?" You nod lazily, eyes fluttering shut on his command. He pulls your panties all the way off and tucks them into his back pocket, planning to play dumb if you asked where they were later.

You're a little embarrassed at being so exposed to him now, but he's in awe. Your pussy is completely visible to him, folds slick and plush under your plump pussy lips. He's throbbing like crazy. "Hm." he tuts, trying to come up with a lie on the spot so he can take things further. "You need some help here too. This is the only way you can get your whole body to relax."

He traces two fingers up and down your slit, listening to the soft gasps that leave you as he slowly coaxes them inside you. His fingers back and forth slowly, trying to get you to relax and loosen up enough for him to shove them deeper.

Rafe's hands grip your hips suddenly, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he tugs you backwards. Your ass is now raised and presented to him, his fingers never leaving the depths of your core. You swallow hard as you feel his thick, oil slicked fingers thrust in and out of you, making squelching sounds. "Mnh! It's so much, it feels so weird there…" Rafe huffs, eyes glazed. "Shit… Knew you'd sound pretty when I touched you. Just take it for me"

He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, curling them just enough for his fingers to stroke that spongey spot deep inside you that your own smaller fingers were never ever able to reach. You cry out, your back arching off the mat as jolts of pleasure shoot through you. "Shh... there we go. Doing so good. Just need to loosen you up."

You're whining now, his fingers diving in and out of you at a steady, repetitive pace that turns your brain to mush. "Rafe… feels s-good..."

He starts to pick up the pace, scissoring his fingers inside of your clenching pussy, turning his hand so that the angles of his fingers vary. You're bucking your hips back into him, unable to hold back especially as his fingers swirl deeper inside your gooey, untouched walls. Rafe groans, feeling your silky walls ripple and squeeze his invading fingers. "Oh, you like that?" he says, grinning now, drunk on the way your body reacts to him. "Knew you'd be sensitive. Knew you'd be a little fuckin' mess for me."

You squirm and let out a little cry, gushing around him and clenching hard as your vision sparkles. He keeps fingering you as you cum, coaxing you to keep going and push you further off the edge. Your body's still trembling when you finally come down, hips twitching under his hands, your cheek pressed against the mat, lips parted as you gasp for breath. There's a high, dazed flush across your cheeks, hair stuck to your forehead, and your thighs won't stop shaking no matter how hard you try to clench them together.

"Goddamn," he mutters, staring at the mess you made on his fingers. "You came so fuckin' hard…" One arm slides under your waist to lift you with ease, turning you onto your back like you weigh nothing. He's already crawling between your legs, big hands spreading your thighs wide and settling in close. "Still twitching," he murmurs, dragging a single fingertip over your clit, making you gasp. "God, you're so sensitive. You want more?"

You nod, pawing at his shoulders hazily. You're too far gone to realize that this stopped being a massage a while ago. His hands are everywhere again, palming your thighs, sliding up your hips, gripping your waist to yank you down the mat toward him. You let out a soft gasp, hands scrambling to hold onto his arms, but he nudges you of so he can focus on tugging his shorts down. He drops them and his boxers, cock springing free, which is thick and flushed with heavy balls. " 's my massage rod, baby. See? the last part of the massage."

"Mh, y-yes..."

He chuckles at your whines, and lines himself up with your slick, oversensitive pussy, letting the head of his cock drag through your slick folds before just barely nudging your clit.

He leans over you, one hand next to your head, the other wrapped around himself as he teases your hole, circling it, tapping lightly, sliding just the head in before pulling back. "Easy, easy… just gotta prep you first, alright? Don't wanna hurt you," He fusses, watching your face scrunch in anticipation and listening avidly to each tiny noise you make.

One deep, slow thrust that splits you open and punches the air out of your lungs. He sinks into you like he belongs there, like he's been waiting his whole life to be buried inside you. When he bottoms out his hips press flush against yours and he feels your walls fluttering around him, he lets out a sound that's half groan, half growl.

He keeps one hand on your throat, thumb pressed lightly just beneath your jaw, not choking, just holding you there and feeling your pulse race under his fingers while his other hand cups the back of your thigh and shoves it up, folding you in, letting him go deeper, hit deeper.

"Oh fuckkk…" he breathes, forehead dropping to yours. "You feel like heaven, baby."

He starts rutting into you with long, deep strokes at first, slow enough to feel every inch, to let your body adjust and to let you feel how big he is. His hips roll, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every push and he keeps his eyes locked on yours the whole time.

You're whining and babbling, vision spotty from the slight lack of air caused by his hand around your throat, but each time you try to shut your eyes and shut your legs due to the overstimulation from your recent orgasm, he catches your jaw and tilts your face back toward him.

"N-nuh uh," he pants, sweat beading on his forehead. His pupils are dilated and his lips are parted to let out heavy groans. "No looking away, ngh, wanna see that lil look on your face when you fall apart on my cock."

You can't stop the whines that spill from your lips as he shoves his cock deep inside you, strokes hard and rough enough to make your tits bounce with each thrust. "Ah, fuck... you're squeezing me so tight," Rafe groans as he thrusts into you, panting at the way your walls clamp down on his long, thick cock.

You keen, pussy creaming around him even more as you dig your nails into his hard biceps to keep yourself upright, struggling to keep your gaze focused on his. You're so wet that there's juices squelching onto the yoga mat each time he pushes into you, making a mess. The oil covering your body isn't helping either.

He's so deep inside of you, and his balls slapping against your swollen clit is starting to make your head swirl even more. Rafe's large hands grip your hips and guide them back against him with each thrust so you're fucking yourself on his dick. "Shittt, baby. Thought you were s-so fucking innocent, but look at you. Fuckin' yourself on my cock like mnh, fucking slut."

"Rafe!" You cry out his name when he gets real deep inside you. "Sl-slower, please, mnh… you're… it's so deep," You're whining softly, body jerking on his cock as he huffs out a breath and refuses with a gruff "Don't wanna," and pounds into you a little harder just to spite you. He's not going to slow down when he's finally got you where he wants you.

The mat shifts around underneath the two of you as Rafe splits your poor little hole in half on his cock. He lets go of your neck to slide two fingers into your mouth, watching your eyes roll and your tongue swirl around his thick digits. "Atta girl, sweetheart, use that tongue. fuckk..." He throbs inside you, watching the way your pussy sucks him back in every time he tries to pull back. You squeeze him like you were made for him. Makes him wanna put a baby in you.

You gasp when he drives forward hard, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes tears of pleasure spring to your eyes, and you suck on his fingers hard so you don't scream.

He keeps fucking his cock against that gummy, soft spot in you, angling his body so he can hit your g-spot over and over, and within seconds, you're creaming around his cock, a loud whine leaving your lips as your clear juices coat his thighs and cock.

He nearly cums on the spot at the way you make a mess on him like some silly mutt with no self control and how hard you clench down when you're cumming, but he has a little more self control and stamina than you. "Shit, feels s'good, princess, good girl, keep squeezin' me jus' like that,"

He grabs your hips hard with one hand and takes his fingers out of your mouth to grope at your tits, flicking your pebbled nipple and pinching it between the rough pads of his fingers.

"Anh, Rafe!" You scream, " 'S too much, oh my god Rafe," You wail and babble, overstimulated, but he just grunts and squeezes you tighter. He pulls on your nipple and pinches it lightly. He hilts himself inside you repeatedly with each thrust, not stopping until his heavy balls slap lewdly against your puffy clit.

Your pussy's swollen with overstimulation, and it's tightening up and is really sloppy around his cock. Rafe's heavy cock plunges into your sopping pussy with each thrust, creating squelching sounds as your juices stir up against his in a mess. "Fuck, this pussy's gonna be the death of me, sweetness, grippin' me like a goddamn vice and soakin' my cock," He groans, throwing his head back. Your fucking pussy makes him crazy.

He stretches your poor puffy pussy to its limits, driving desperate moans from you that grow louder the dumber he makes you. Thick strands of your cum cling to his cock as your walls ripple around him as he fucks into your overstuffed cunt, your puffy lips kissing his slicked cock. "Look at you. You wanted this so bad, didn't you? Hah. Fuckin' adorable."

You whine as he pounds you, his cock filling your pussy and hitting the gummy barrier of your womb with every other thrust. You can see the way your tummy plumps up around the outline of his big cock, stretching into your womb.

Your head lolls and he pushes down on your tummy. You cry out and cum again, and he groans and splurts inside of you, dumping heavy loads of cream inside your used pussy. "Fuckkk, that's right princess, milk my fuckin' cock... God, best pussy I had in a long ass time." He leans down to press open mouthed kisses against your cheek, fucking his cum back into you after stuffing you full and breeding you.

[kurooh]

hey! could you please write something where the mha men catch you masturbating?

CAUGHT ! — BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. he’s offended that you didn’t call him to make you cum.

⟡ feat. aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugo katsuki, kirishima eijirou, takami keigo.

⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), f! reader, masturbation.

— MIDORIYA IZUKU.

“baby, could i use your vibrator on you?” izuku pads towards the bed and sits in front of you, eyes meeting yours shyly. his freckled cheeks are pink and only turning a darker red as you take a moment to think.

“sure, ‘zuku.” you smile softly, spreading your legs and leaning back as he picks up your sticky wand. “you know how to use it?”

izuku shakes his head, “no, but i want to learn how.. i was watching you a little earlier.”

“oh..” your cunt twitches at the thought of him looking in on you masturbating — moaning his name, writhing on the bed in bliss. and knowing izuku, he was rock hard the whole time and palming himself through his pants.

“i’m sorry, baby, i couldn’t help it. you’re just so beautiful, and—”

“no problem, izu.”

he clears his throat and presses the vibrator to your puffy clit, and just the light pressure has you whining his name. when izuku switches it on, he accidentally turns it up to the highest level, causing your back to bow right off the bed as a sharp gasp escapes your lips.

without thinking much about the intensity of the vibrator, he presses it against your clit harder while nudging your closing thighs apart with his free hand.

“oh, izu, t-that’s too high, you need to turn it down!” your body twists on the bed, hips jerking, so he plants a scarred hand firmly on your pelvis to keep you as steady as possible. “it’s too much, fuck, i’m gonna—!”

“shh, i know baby,” izuku hushes your gasping moans and shaking voice easily, “i’m listening..”

— BAKUGO KATSUKI.

“what the hell?” as katsuki pulls the shower curtain open to reveal your shaking form, hunched and pressing the shower head between your thighs, he scoffs.

your back crashes against the shower wall behind you and dazedly, you look towards your affronted boyfriend who’s now stripping his clothes off.

“i thought we agreed to shower together tonight! here you are, without me and jerking off no less.”

“shut up and join me, katsuki,” not that he needed any convincing, but the blissed out expression on your face has him moving much faster. plus, you haven’t stopped using the shower head — you’re still moaning, his name falling from your lips in delicious whimpers.

“bend over, babygirl,” katsuki grunts, stepping into the shower beside you. “and give me that damn thing.”

he practically snatches it out of your loose grip, manhandles you forward a little more after you bend over. aiming the spray at the ground, he spreads your ass cheeks with one hand and presses himself into your dripping hole.

“fuck, fuck katsuki..” your chest heaves as you mewl, high pitched and needy. katsuki finally bottoms out with a husky groan, before he twists his hand and directs the shower head towards your quivering pussy.

his free hand comes to rest on your cheek, thumb slipping into your mouth for comfort.

“katsu..” you cry, tears racing down your cheeks as your voice muffles. “so, so good!”

katsuki trembles against you before quickly developing a tempo and snapping his hips into your ass. all he can do is choke back sounds of pleasure as your walls squeeze him so hard his eyes roll back.

he musters the strength to lean over to press a wet kiss to the shell of your ear, chest pressed to your back. “god, i wish you could see just how fuckin’ perfect you look right now. such a mess for me— hah, shit.”

— KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.

“let me eat your pussy.”

before you can even turn around, eijirou is already bouncing on the bed and advancing towards you on his belly. surprised, you pull your sticky hands away from your pussy and loosely close your legs.

“eiji, what?”

“you heard me, baby.”

“wh— you didn’t even knock, and this is kind of embarrassing that you walked in on me like this!” your face burns as you stare at the redhead awkwardly, his eagerness making your thighs twitch.

“i’m sorry,” eijirou apologizes, hands gripping your thighs as he positions himself closer to you. “you’ll forget about it if i eat you out, yeah?”

when you nod shyly, he pulls your legs open and plants his hands on your asscheeks, dragging you into his face. before you can even register what’s about to happen next, eijirou’s lapping up your slick, tongue dragging through your folds and against your clit.

your eyes roll back, damp fingers twisting into his spiky hair and pulling hard, just how he likes it. he groans, face buried in your cunt, and the vibrations draw a few whines from your throat.

“eiji, l-little slower please, ‘m kinda sensitive..”

honestly, eijirou doesn’t really care if you’re sensitive from all your jerking off. it’s evident in the way he licks harder, slurping up more of your taste and locking you down with his arms so you can’t twist away, even if you’re overstimulated.

a particularly rough drag of eijirou’s silky tongue has you gasping out his name and panting quickly.

“mmm, mmmh— eiji, ‘m gonna cum!” soft red hair tickles your inner thighs as he nods, unbothered. a few more licks to your clit has you coming completely undone, thighs squeezing his head harshly when he continues, pushing his tongue into your twitching hole.

“i-i can’t, it’s too much!” you wail, tears building in your eyes as pleasure and pain flash through you together. after a moment, eijirou finally lets up, not even caring to wipe the wetness off his face.

he doesn’t hide the enthusiasm and smiles, sharp teeth glinting in the light.

“let me eat your pussy again?”

— TAKAMI KEIGO.

“aww, dove. could’ve let me know you were this needy,” the slightest rustle of feathers behind you as you’re pulled back into strong arms has your body tensing, dildo falling from your hand and onto the towel covered bed.

“i-i didn’t want to be a bother.. you were on patrol, kei,” your voice is barely above a whisper, face burning with some kind of embarrassment that he’s caught you in such a vulnerable situation.

gentle fingers brush beneath your chin as keigo tilts your head up, pressing his lips to yours for a chaste kiss. as it starts to deepen, tongues pushing between lips, a hand slides down the slope of your stomach and over the coarse hair at your pelvis.

“keigo,” you moan before he’s even reached your pussy and he chuckles, pulling away with a string of saliva briefly connecting his lips to yours.

“haven’t even touched you yet,” keigo comments wryly, corners of his eyes crinkling as you lean in for another kiss, legs spreading wider. you catch a glimpse of his vermillion feathers ruffling behind him before your eyes shut and you fall into pleasure.

thick fingers press inside you, pushing in and bottoming out rather quickly, thanks to your previous orgasms. as you’re reaching for your neglected clit, keigo swats your hand out of the way and replaces it with his own, thumb rubbing tight circles on it almost immediately.

“always so fuckin’ tight,” he hisses, scissoring his fingers in and out of you at a devastating pace. your hips thrash against the bed, pulling back from overstimulation and roughness yet also pushing towards him for more. your back is flush against keigo’s chest, asscheeks pressing into his crotch.

“god— fuck,” keigo’s chest heaves as he shifts closer to you, hard on grinding into your ass. “shit, now you’ve got me worked up, dove.. i’m bending you over after you cum, alright?”

[cameronsbabydoll]

NSFW ALPHABET — BLUE COLLAR RAFE CAMERON

A — Aftercare ⟢ Rafe isn’t the most openly affectionate guy, but after sex, he’s all about making sure you’re okay—even if it’s in his own gruff way. He’ll pull you against his chest, rub a rough hand down your back, maybe even murmur a low, “You good, baby?” If he really wore you out, he’ll force himself to get up and grab you water, even if he groans about it. He likes seeing you fucked-out and satisfied, though, so don’t expect him to leave you alone too long—he’ll be running his hands over your body again in no time.

B — Body part ⟢ On himself? His arms. He knows he’s strong, and he loves how easily he can manhandle you with them. On you? Your thighs. Whether they’re wrapped around his waist, shaking beneath his touch, or pressed tight together while you try to act all innocent—he’s obsessed. Loves to squeeze them, grab them, spread them apart. If you’re wearing shorts? Good luck.

C — Cum ⟢ He’s messy, and he likes it that way. Loves to see you covered in it, whether it’s dripping between your legs or smeared on your stomach after he’s pulled out. If he finishes in your mouth, he’s watching, making sure you swallow—or else. But his favorite? Pumping you full and keeping you there, too big and heavy for you to squirm away.

D — Dirty secret ⟢ He’s thought about bending you over at the construction site more times than he’d ever admit. Even in broad daylight, even with his crew around. The idea of fucking you somewhere risky, where he could get caught with his pants down (literally), is a fantasy that plagues him. And yeah, he’s stolen a pair of your panties before. Just once. Maybe twice.

E — Experience ⟢ He’s been around, no doubt about it. He’s had his fair share of flings, girls drawn in by his rough hands and cocky smirk, but none of them mattered until you. He knows what he’s doing—he knows exactly how to touch you, exactly how to pull sounds from you that no one else ever has. And if there’s anything he doesn’t know? He’ll learn. Fast.

F — Favorite position ⟢ Anything that gives him control. He loves bending you over, watching his cock disappear inside you as he grips your hips. But if he really wants to ruin you? Missionary, so he can see your face, watch every little reaction as he stretches you out. And he definitely loves having you ride him—nothing gets him off faster than watching you struggle to take him.

G — Goofy ⟢ He’s not goofy, but he is cocky. Smirks when you whimper, teases you when you get all shy. If you accidentally moan too loud? “Damn, baby. Didn’t know you liked it that much.” But the second you try to turn it back on him, acting all sweet and playful? He’s flipping you over and showing you who’s really in charge.

H — Hair ⟢ He’s not meticulously groomed, but he keeps it in check. A little bit of hair, nothing crazy. As for you? He doesn’t care, as long as he’s got full access to you. And if he notices you cleaned up for him? That cocky smirk comes out in full force. “Went all pretty for me, huh?”

I — Intimacy ⟢ He’s more intense than romantic. He shows his affection through possession—gripping your jaw, pressing his forehead against yours, growling low praises when you take him so well. It’s rough, needy, overwhelming. But there are moments, quiet moments, when he softens. Like when he kisses your temple after, or holds you just a little tighter than necessary.

J — Jack off ⟢ He tries not to. He really does. But sometimes he’s stuck on a long job, or you’re teasing him without even knowing it, and he has to take care of it. Usually in the shower, thinking about you—about your body, your moans, the way you whimper his name when you’re close. If he’s desperate? He’ll use your panties.

K — Kink ⟢ Possession. Rafe is territorial as hell. Loves marking you—hickeys, bruises, his cum dripping from between your thighs. Also has a major thing for power imbalance. He’s older, stronger, more experienced—and he loves reminding you of it. Loves when you get all flustered, playing the innocent little thing while he ruins you.

L — Location ⟢ Anywhere he can get away with it. The truck is a favorite—he’ll pull you into the backseat without a second thought.

M — Motivation ⟢ You, obviously. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing—looking too good in your work clothes, biting your lip without realizing, laughing in a way that makes his stomach tighten. The second you get a little shy, a little flustered? It’s over for you.

N — No ⟢ He’s not into anything that makes you uncomfortable. Won’t share, won’t degrade you in a way that actually hurts. He likes you a little embarrassed, a little helpless under him, but he’s never truly cruel.

O — Oral ⟢ Loves giving. Could spend hours between your thighs, lapping you up until you’re too sensitive to handle it. But he’s greedy, too—loves watching you on your knees, pretty lips wrapped around him. And if you look up at him? He’s gone.

P — Pace ⟢ Usually fast and rough, but he knows when to take his time. If he really wants to make you beg? Slow, deep, agonizing.

Q — Quickie ⟢ Loves them. He’ll pull you into a supply closet, the back of his truck, his own construction site, anywhere he can take the edge off.

R — Risk ⟢ High. He gets off on knowing someone could catch you. Even if he’d kill anyone who tried.

S — Stamina ⟢ Insane. Blue-collar work keeps him strong, and he can go for multiple rounds without breaking a sweat.

T — Toys ⟢ Doesn’t need them. He’s enough. But if you want to try something? He’ll allow it. As long as he’s in control.

U — Unfair ⟢ Loves teasing. Runs his hands over you, pulls away when you try to grind against him. “Patience, baby.”

V — Volume ⟢ Low, deep grunts. Filthy praises. A little growl when he’s close. If you’re loud? He loves it.

W — Wild card ⟢ He has, at some point, stolen your underwear just to keep in his truck. For reasons.

X — X-ray ⟢ Big. Thick, a little curved, and he knows how to use it.

Y — Yearning ⟢ Insatiable. He wants you constantly. If he had his way, he’d keep you in bed all day.

Z — Zzz ⟢ Falls asleep eventually. But only after making sure you’re completely spent, totally satisfied, and pressed up against his chest.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

hello! can you write for Charles taking his baby girl for her first haircut to his mom’s salon? And like the whole family doing lunch afterwards and just spoiling the baby

A Special First Haircut

The soft morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Charles' apartment, casting a warm glow over the living room where little Yn sat on the floor, playing with her stuffed animals. She was humming to herself, completely immersed in a made-up conversation between her plush rabbit and a tiny toy horse. Charles watched her from the couch, a fond smile on his lips.

His daughter, his sweet sunshine.

Yn was the kind of child who made every day brighter just by existing. She was all golden curls and sparkling green eyes, her laughter the most beautiful sound in the world. She had inherited her grandmother’s and uncle Arthur’s blond hair, though Charles liked to say it had a little of his messy touch to it. It was long now, cascading down her back in soft waves, and today was the day she would get her first-ever haircut.

Charles had made up his mind instantly—there was no one else he would trust for such an important moment except his maman.

"Mon amour," Charles called, standing up and walking over to Yn, crouching down beside her. "Are you ready to go see Grand-mère?"

Yn gasped excitedly, immediately dropping her toys and looking up at him with wide, excited eyes. "Yes! Grand-mère! She’s gonna cut my hair, right, Papa?"

"Oui," he confirmed, running his fingers gently through her soft curls. "But just a little. Your hair is too pretty to cut too much."

Yn giggled, clearly pleased, and jumped up. She immediately ran toward her little coat, struggling to put it on in her excitement. Charles helped her, chuckling at her enthusiasm, before grabbing the car keys.

"Let’s go, ma princesse."

When they arrived at Pascale’s salon, Charles could already see his mother through the glass storefront, tending to a client. As soon as she noticed them, her entire face lit up with joy. She quickly wrapped up the appointment, saying a few kind words to the woman in the chair before ushering her out with a warm smile.

Then, she did something Charles fully expected—she flipped the sign on the door to "Closed" and locked it.

"Charles! Mon ange!" Pascale greeted, pulling her son into a tight hug before bending down to Yn's level. "And my beautiful, beautiful granddaughter!"

Yn let out an excited squeal and threw herself into her grandmother’s arms. Pascale laughed, lifting her up easily despite her small frame. She pressed several kisses to Yn’s cheek, making the little girl giggle and squirm in her grasp.

"Grand-mère!" Yn squeaked between laughs. "You’re tickling me!"

Pascale pulled back with a mock gasp. "Oh no! I would never!" She then ran a gentle hand through Yn’s hair, eyes softening. "My little sunshine, are you ready for your special haircut?"

Yn nodded quickly. "Yes! Papa said not too much!"

"Of course," Pascale agreed, setting her down gently before looking at Charles. "Would you like me to trim it just a little, keep it neat?"

Charles nodded. "Just enough to keep it healthy, maman. I can’t let her lose her princess curls just yet."

Pascale laughed, then gestured toward the styling chair. "Come, mon trésor. Let’s get you all set up."

Yn eagerly climbed into the chair, legs dangling adorably. Pascale carefully fastened a tiny cape around her, making sure she was comfortable before gently combing through her golden locks.

As she worked, Charles pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message to his brothers.

Charles: Yn is getting her first haircut. Maman closed the salon just for her. You two want to come?

Lorenzo replied almost instantly.

Lorenzo: Of course! Charlotte and I are coming.

A second later, Arthur’s response appeared.

Arthur: I’m on my way!

Charles smiled, already picturing how much his family was going to fuss over Yn. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked up just in time to see Pascale snipping the very first strand of Yn’s hair. The little girl watched in the mirror with wide, fascinated eyes.

"That’s my hair!" Yn exclaimed, staring at the small golden lock Pascale had cut.

"It is," Pascale said with a smile.

As Pascale continued working, the door opened, and Lorenzo walked in, his arm wrapped around Charlotte’s waist. Arthur followed closely behind, looking just as excited.

"Lorenzo! Arthur! Charlotte!" Yn squealed, waving at them from the chair.

"Mon petit trésor!" Lorenzo grinned, immediately walking over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Look at you! Such a big girl, getting her first haircut!"

Charlotte smiled warmly. "You look adorable, Yn."

Arthur leaned down, resting his arms on the back of the chair. "Are you sure you want to cut your princess hair?" he teased.

Yn giggled. "Grand-mère says I still get to keep my princess hair!"

"Of course she does," Pascale said, sending Arthur a pointed look before ruffling his hair. "Don’t make her second-guess it."

Arthur raised his hands in surrender, grinning. "Alright, alright."

The adults stepped back, letting Pascale finish trimming Yn’s hair. But then—

The salon suddenly filled with the sound of Yn’s uncontrollable giggles.

Everyone turned their heads in surprise, only to see Pascale holding the blow dryer, directing warm air toward Yn’s head. Her hair was flying in all directions, making her laugh so hard she had to grab onto the armrests to keep from wriggling too much.

"PAPA, LOOK!" Yn giggled. "MY HAIR IS FLYING!"

Charles grinned, pulling out his phone to snap a quick picture. "You look like a little fairy, ma princesse."

"Or a lion!" Arthur added.

"Lion princess!" Yn declared, still giggling.

Lorenzo chuckled, shaking his head. "She’s too cute."

When Pascale finally finished, she turned off the blow dryer and carefully ran her fingers through Yn’s hair one last time.

"There," she said proudly. "My beautiful sunshine, all done."

Yn turned her head from side to side, admiring herself in the mirror. "It’s so pretty!"

Charles leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "You’re always pretty, mon amour."

Everyone else immediately chimed in with compliments.

"You look like a real princess!" Charlotte said.

"The cutest princess ever," Arthur added.

"Perfection," Lorenzo agreed.

Yn, slightly overwhelmed by all the attention, giggled shyly and reached for her father. Charles laughed and scooped her up, letting her hide her face in his neck.

"My little shy baby," he murmured, rubbing her back gently.

Pascale smiled fondly at the scene before clapping her hands together. "Alright, now that we’re done, who’s ready for lunch?"

"Me!" Yn perked up instantly. "I’m so hungry!"

Arthur ruffled her hair. "Then let’s go! I think our little princess deserves a big treat today."

At lunch, Yn was completely spoiled by her uncles. Arthur insisted she get a chocolate milkshake, while Lorenzo made sure she had extra fries. Charlotte helped her color on the kids’ menu, and Pascale couldn’t stop pressing kisses to her forehead.

Charles just sat back, watching it all with a full heart.

His little sunshine, surrounded by love.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-💙🦋

[ohimsummer]

PUCKER UP! ft. NERDJO

— minors dni, nerdjo x meangirl! reader, college! au, pegging, ass-eating, this started getting sloppy nasty lmao reader is a freak fr, hints of stsg, pet names (pretty boy, princess), kind of proofread

wc 3k….😭

it's easy to get satoru to do anything for you.

he's caught off guard when he opens the door to his dorm and you’re shoving yet another homework assignment in his hands, backing him into the room. he's easily victim to honeyed words from your glossy lips, the flutter of your eyelashes. though, if that isn't enough, a firm palm to his already-hardening bulge is sure to get you whatever you want. the gesture is topped off with a promised reward of sucking him dry, however, you're both painfully aware that you would have done so anyway.

satoru settles beside you on his bed, where you lay browsing through social media. he works dutifully, though still listening and responding to the mindless school gossip that no one else would ever let him know about. you keep him well-informed.

twenty minutes have passed, and you spare the papers a glance. it astounds you that satoru is already halfway finished in less than thirty minutes with what would have taken you at least an hour. it's easy for him...maybe a little too easy. maybe a little unfair.

"you're working too fast.", you huff, wrinkling your nose.

satoru pauses, pen hovering over the paper. he looks between you and your homework. "... is that a problem...?"

you sit up on his bed, staring in disdain at the half-finished work in his lap. "if it was? you're not just rushing, are you?"

here he comes with the pouting. satoru is extremely confident in his work, and he knows you know he'd never let you get a bad grade. "don't critique me, i know what i'm doing–“

"bend over, i'm bored."

his jaw falls slack as you tug open the drawer next to his bed, and pull out the lengthy, baby-blue toy hidden away.

"you–, now–?", he sputters. "i'm in the middle of–"

"oh, shut it, shut it.", you wave off his complaints with a manicured hand. "can't you multitask?"

satoru opens his mouth to give a snarky reply, but his words fall short when you slip the tip of the dildo between your lips. he can feel your eyes on him, but his gaze won't leave the way the toy disappears into your mouth, and blood goes rushing to fill the half-erect hard-on he's been sporting since you got here.

you pull the dildo from your mouth with a 'pop!'. "so? be a good boy and bend over for me?"

it's kind of funny, how you don't even have to touch him or bat a lash or use that one flirty tone that makes his head spin, yet satoru still tugs his own shirt off and pants down. he faces away to lower his head and present his round ass to you. a finger traces over the hem of his boxers, embedded with two bold sets of initials on them: yours and an S.G. not satoru's own name, of course.

with a quick kiss to his thigh, you're pulling the white boxers down his legs and tossing them inside. satoru's asshole sits bare and on display for you, puckered and twitching as you admire him.

as if reading your thoughts, he mumbles, "don't stare so much..."

you break gaze with the hole inches from your face to raise a brow at your boyfriend. "shouldn't you be doing my homework?"

"uh–“, he scrambles to form a sentence."yeah, but–"

"pass me the lube and the harness, too."

satoru obeys your command, reaching into the still-open drawer to pull out a bottle of strawberry-flavoured lubricant and a light blue, leather harness. he reaches back a hand to give it to you, where you snatch both items from his grasp and satoru immediately hears the sound of the tube cap clicking open.

not wanting to be chastised again, satoru tries his hardest to steer his focus back to the papers beside him. the pencil trembles in his hand, but he manages to write all of three words before feeling your finger circling his hole.

he jolts, his face flushes at your mischievous giggle behind him, and satoru coerces his body to relaxation once more. it's a feat which is basically impossible when his mind is fixed on the way your finger traces the rim of his entrance, and the more subtle, wet sounds of you massaging lube into the dildo.

"i don't see you doing any work.", you scold him, and satoru yelps when you pluck a harsh finger against his hole. despite the surprise, his dick twitches at the mild discomfort.

pushing himself again to focus on the blurry words and math problems in front of him, satoru mashes the lead a little harder than he should into the paper, clenching the pencil tightly in his fist. he blocks out the movements and sounds going on behind him: the slick pumping of the dildo strapped to your waist, your other hand clutching and gripping either ass cheek in your palm, sinking nails into the skin for a quick lesson in pain before the pad of your thumb pokes and prods at his puckered hole again.

this lasts for what seems like an eternity before a new sensation sends a shiver up his spine, something that forces a gasp from his lips and raises the thin hairs on his neck. it's warm, wet, and familiar—the overwhelming feel of your tongue bullying its way into his insides.

"hey, hey, i–i won't be able to focus if you're doing that–!", satoru whines, but you pay him no mind. his fists wrench the fabric of the comforter as the slimy, pink muscle worms inside.

behind him, you moan at the flavor, slipping your tongue from his orifice to flatten it against his pale skin, running it from satoru's balls to the top of his ass crack. satoru flinches when you spit on his hole, and whines like a mutt in heat at the sloppy way you make out with his asshole. every kiss and bite to his cheeks has him tightening around your tongue, but you wriggle it with a driven intent to get him nice and loose for the absolute pounding you're about to bestow upon him. it's disgusting, and satoru fucking loves it.

he's so lost in you and your heavenly tongue that he almost doesn't register the warmth spreading in his lower body. it's at the last second that satoru lets out a strangled moan and his first orgasm comes washing over him. ropes of cum shoot out to coat his bare thighs and chiseled abdomen as satoru squirms from the sheer pleasure. he's so fidgety, he almost lets your assignment go slipping off the edge of the bed. it’s grabbed just in time, and he shoves it a little further away to avoid any more of the wet spots his drool has already stained into them.

you let him have his fun, come down from his little high, and then satoru feels your touch retreat from his sensitive behind. "did you still plan on getting that done today, or...?"

satoru shivers, and cranes his neck to give you a puppy-eyed gaze, tears having built up on his lash line. "...it's hard."

his poor, pathetic, puppy-dog tone and the deep pink tint across his cheeks and up to his ears yank at your heartstrings. it's times like this where you feel bad for being mean to him, even if it's all an act. satoru's just so fucking cute, he reminds you that can't keep up the cruel demeanor towards him forever.

"ohh.", you coo at your nerdy, loser boyfriend and peck short kisses onto his ass cheeks. "you want me to go slower, baby?"

"yes. yes, please.", he whines. "i can't focus to finish your work."

so adorable. truthfully you couldn't give less of a fuck about the papers anymore, but it's still a little endearing that even in such a position, satoru is still determined to get you the passing grade you don't deserve.

as promised, you take it down a notch, just to give him more control of his thoughts. and satoru figured taking things a step back would do wonders when you weren't absolutely ravishing his hole, but this...this may be significantly worse.

the once intense fervor of your movements has been replaced with a skillful precision. every stroke and flick of your tongue around his rim feels more pleasurable than the last, and satoru's cock jerks and aches at the slow, sensual sucks to his ass. you replace the dig of your nails with the occasional, unforgiving smack!, only to layer on top a coat of soothing kisses. the drawn-out movements make him even more conscious of every single thing you're doing.

but still, your plan was to grace him with some mercy, and satoru won't allow you to say he didn't at least try. so, with newfound strength, he squeezes the pen in his hand, and he gets to work.

his body remains painfully aware of the thrills and pleasure you shower him with, and satoru struggles to keep those feelings at bay from distracting his mind. it's a challenge, but satoru does likes a challenge, and he finds he's managed to complete the remaining bottom half of the current page. this is it. he's on the final paper, so close to the finish line, before he can stop having to worry about it. and then he feels your gentle tap on his thigh.

it takes him out of the space he's forced himself into. satoru turns until he just sees you in his peripherals. "huh? what's wrong?"

"nothing.", you reassure him. "do you want to pack that up before i start?"

'start?', he thinks, and then he feels the slap of the rubber dildo between his ass cheeks. "ah, um–“

his throat goes dry, and you gliding the heavy length back-and-forth along his asshole doesn't help in the slightest.

"just do your best, okay? i'm happy with a B."

satoru isn't happy with anything below an A-, but the complaint is stripped from his tongue as he feels the thick tip of your cock sinking into his hole. even with your slow movements, it knocks the wind from his lungs, and all he can let out is a choked moan. stuck gripping the streets, his cheek is smushed against the bed and his mouth agape, until satoru finally feels you flush against the back of his thighs.

there’s a beat, then your encouraging voice in his ear: “breath, satoru.”

a second later and you can see the tension leaving his larger, toned body. your hands make a delicate path up the curve of his back, massaging his sensitive nape which leaves him gasping, before one of them trails back up his spine. you apply pressure as you go, further pronouncing the arch in satoru’s pliant body, and the wandering hand ends at his hip.

slowly, you unsheathe the girthy, faux length from his ass, revealing more and more and more until only the tip remains. his hole tightens, and you don’t think you’ve ever been so jealous of both a man or a piece of fucking silicone in your entire life. you’d kill to have a real one right now, to feel satoru’s moist insides and the way he’d clench around you, sucking you in further and further until you were stuck balls deep in him. it’s fucking unfair.

“m–move, please.”, he begs in such a soft mewl. so needy, so impatient. so spoiled as you plunge your cock into him again.

a sharp gasp flees his lips, followed by satoru's strangled moan as you bury yourself to the hilt. there’s a prominent vein on the back of his hand from how tightly he grips the sheets, pillow, anything satoru can get his hands on.

though you move languidly, satoru quickly dissolves into an utter wreck. your hands hold tight onto his waist with initial intent to keep him steady, but his moans bring out a crazed animal in you. soon you're manhandling him back-and-forth to meet the ever-growing roughness of your thrusts. the sound of you pounding into him can't even be heard over the slutty noises tumbling out into the open air, hitting all four walls to fill the dorm room. it makes you ache, yearning for some relief other than the occasional friction of the harness against your clit.

"fuck, you're so hot.", you lean down and pant against his ear. satoru babbles something you can’t understand, and it makes you laugh. you can't help mock him a little.

"so loud, too.", comes the bratty taunt, and satoru whimpers out a barely coherent 'sorry'. god, he's so cute and pathetic. you feel like you're bullying him, corrupting your little nerd boyfriend, and it turns you on tenfold.

"aren't people living in the dorm next to you? they’re gonna be pissed.", you tease further, though never letting up on your thrusts and in fact picking up the pace. "these walls are pretty thin. suguru was here yesterday, did you get a noise complaint?"

"mhm."

that response catches you off guard—his audible confirmation along with a weak nod of the head.

"are you serious?" satoru nods again, and you let out an incredulous scoff. "damn, i was just kidding. i may have to go harder, then, i want them to know how well i treat you, too!"

it’s all gibberish in satoru's mind. with such scrambled thoughts, he can barely hold on to a thing you're saying, let alone worry about maintaining his now continuously waning status as a considerate neighbor.

"c'mere." your words sound muffled amongst the fog in his head. satoru strains his eyes and barely sees your blurry figure hovering over him. "pass me the pillow, babe."

he flails a feeble hand in the general direction of said object, finally landing on the soft cushion and using what—in his current state—feels like an absurd amount of strength in order to hand it back to you. a second later, he feels you tugging at his waist. “lift your hips up.” and, ever the helpful boyfriend, satoru uses every bit of remaining energy in his bones to raise his body.

"look at you, my good little loser." he feels you squeeze the pillow between him and the bed, and then goes limp again beneath you. his cock twitches at the soft pressure surrounding his length. it reminds him of a fleshlight, something you and suguru make sure he's extremely familiar with.

there's a 'smack!', and satoru whimpers at the sharp slap to one of his ass cheeks. you knead at the fat flesh in your hands, dulling the pain, and pull satoru’s ass apart to stare at the way his hole quivers and tightens around you.

"do you like being lazy?”, you tease. "letting me do most of the work?" he nods. "say it. tell me you’re my pretty little pillow princess.”

"i’m y–your pretty–, pretty pillow princess.", satoru moans with a cheek against the mattress, and lets out a feeble cry when you give his ass another loud smack.

"mmm, yeah." a sinister grin paints itself across your lips. your hands continue squeezing satoru’s sore ass in your palms, and your boyfriend groans in pleasure as you begin fucking into him again. "fuck, such a good toy for me."

you say something else, something he doesn’t hear, if not for satoru’s bedframe thudding against the wall, or the lewd slapping of skin on skin, then definitely because of his own moans echoing in his ears. there’s a short pause. satoru registers the dip of the mattress on each side of his head, and the blurry details of your manicure. the ticklish touch of your fingers brush against his forehead, moving locks of stark white hair to reveal more of his gorgeous face.

"my pretty boy.”

satoru whines at the praise before feeling the length of your cock rubbing against his prostate. it's calm at first, a frustratingly slow grind against his ass where he can feel the silicone balls of your strap up against his own. but soon you're picking up pace, slamming into him with each thrust, thrusts that send satoru flying forward every time you plunge deep into him again. every rock of your hips against his brushes satoru’s leaking cock harder and faster along the pillow under his body. it feels out of this world, and all too much to endure.

the heat and pleasure overrunning satoru has steadily evolved from a slow trickle, to growing waves, to a huge tsunami bearing down on him. his entire body is searing; he releases a particularly loud cry of your name as cum shoots straight into the fluff of the pillow, soaking deep inside the fabric as waves of pleasure flood over him. tears burn at his hazy, blue eyes, making it impossible to see clearly, but that doesn't matter when satoru's eyes are wrenched shut anyway as you slow to another grind against his ass, fucking him through his final orgasm.

satoru lies there, trembling and taking in heaving breathes of air. he lets out one last pathetic whimper when you pull out, leaving his hole tragically empty, but still accepts the press of a few soft kisses to his pink, tear-stained cheeks.

"satoru?", you whisper softly against his ear. “all good?” and you give him another kiss on the forehead when he gives a weak nod. "atta boy, you did so well. i'm going to get you a towel, 'kay?"

your boyfriend only makes a weak effort to grasp your hand, but you understand what he’s asking for, regardless. “fine, pretty boy. i’m right here, just relax and catch your breath for me.”

and, as usual, satoru follows your instructions without question. he is comforted by the gentle squeeze of your hand, the caress of your fingers through his hair, and the doting kisses you place on his shoulders, neck, and face. eventually, his brain is empty, drained. satoru begins dozing off to sleep in a far-away land—away from his room and away from homework, yet still surrounded by your soft, lingering presence.

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[bi-writes]

ghost is such a daddy, isn't he? ;) too bad he's such a dick. (18+)

but it's hard to find a donor. you've been single for practically your whole life, it's the whole reason you're looking to just get pregnant by yourself. you don't need a man--you can walk into a clinic and pick from their little flip book.

but none of them fit what you're looking for. too short, hairline too far back, you don't care for the look in their eyes or the occupation they chose or their descriptions of how much they like model trains and reading george orwell every christmas. they're john does in different colored suits, and they reek of entitlement and the need for perfection and lack the individuality that you crave.

not special, no--you're looking for an edge. and none of them have it.

you're glaring at your lieutenant from three hundred yards away when your eyes soften with realization. ghost is such a bastard to you; he snaps at you easily, uses his obvious stature to overpower you in the most inconvenient of situations, and he always turns his nose up at you for being even slightly less than perfection, just a smidge off your target or just below your personal record.

he demands more of everyone he commands, but you in particular he likes to pick on. you used to think it was because you were the only woman around, but that wasn't it. ghost isn't a misogynist, he's just a right asshole.

but a gorgeous one. not in the way he looks, per say, because his face isn't all that pretty. you've seen his face, glimpses of it, enough to put the puzzle together in your head. he wears mangled skin, torn apart at the seams and scarred to high hell, but ghost is more than just stitched together skin.

he's huge. large and so fucking well in charge. he takes up space, and he does it with intent. spreads his legs when he takes a seat, crosses his arms over his chest when he's standing idly by. his expressions aren't visible under the mask he wears, but it is very obvious when he isn't happy. his glare burns through the fabric, dark eyes narrowed intensely; it is impossible to not understand when ghost is less than amused by you.

he's so capable. you've seen him take apart his gun and put it back together many times. big fingers sliding over metal and fastening it back together with practiced ease. you've seen him haul over two hundred pounds of man over a railing, seen him set up his sniper rifle and shoot a target more than a thousand yards away. he's smart, and he knows what he's doing, and even in the face of uncertainty and chaos, he's oftentimes the voice of reason in the field, and it's sexy.

god, he's so fucking hot. especially when he's rolling up his sleeves, showing off one sleeve of shitty military tattoos and telling the private that's practically in tears what a fucking muppet he is for assembling his standard issue pistol without a fucking magazine loaded into it.

that's what you want.

someone resilient. capable of overcoming tragedy, of finding purpose even when there really isn't anything to live for. the drive of bettering yourself, of not fucking it up, of being able to breathe easy and get out of a corner even when the path ahead is just more of the unknown.

unable to die.

"ever thought of being a father, lieutenant?"

he laughs, bitterly, licking the pad of his thumb before rubbing at a spot on the scope of his rifle.

"fuckin' hate kids," he mutters. "loud. dirty." he grunts. "besides. bloodline dies with me. don't need anymore fuckin' rileys mucking up this place."

you bite your lip. it's not the worst reason you've ever heard. it's just too bad he's exactly the kind of baby daddy you're looking for.

"that's too bad, lieutenant," you purr, standing up. you pass by him, your hips swaying and brushing against his shoulder. it's enough of a touch that his gaze follows you as you leave, his eyes flickering to the curve of your ass as you leave. "you'd make such a good daddy."

the fuck?

it's hard to focus. you keep bending over in front of him; dropping papers, picking things up, leaning over desks just to make his face twitch under the mask. you're constantly in his line of sight, wearing the tightest fucking shirts he's ever seen. cleavage on display, definitely a violation of protocols that no one is enforcing, and it's making his head spin as you lick chocolate off your fingers and swipe it off the curve of your breast. he thinks you must be mad when you make eye contact with him and keep it as you slip two fingers into your mouth and suck.

the worst was when he was stuck in the back of a humvee with you. the back was packed, soldiers pressed together as they rode back to base. he was sweaty and exhausted, leaning his head back as the truck rattled along the dirt road. on a particularly rough bump, you bounced into his lap, ass pressed back against his pelvis. on instinct, one gloved hand caught you by the curve of your waist, and you hummed as you leaned back against him.

"sorry, lieutenant," you had cooed, in that soft, honeyed voice he hated. "am i hurting you?"

"fuck you, sergeant," he had snapped, but his growl was cut short when you arched your back a little, nestling your ass against the fucking hard rock in his pants.

"just happy to see me then?"

acckkk, a fucking fiend, you are. pressing up against him when you slip into line in front of him in the mess hall. asking him for help because your aim is off, just to look at him from over your shoulder and give him that smile. the absolute doe eyes you give him when he berates you for the hundredth time that day, just for you to mumble back, "oh...yes, of course, sir..."

ngghhh...and he's thinking about you. thinking about smoothing a hand down your back as he bends you over a desk. thinking about what it would be like if you climbed over him on his cot and sat your fat ass down onto his face. thinking about the sounds you'd make, the big, wet eyes you'd give him, how good you'd look in his bed and wearing his clothes and cumming on his cock--

"the fuck are y'doin' ta me?" he growls in your ear. you blink up at him, tilting your head back, leaning against his door.

"johnny said you were training, so i thought i'd wait for you. got something real important to talk to you about."

you smile at him innocently, ducking under his arm as you slink into his room. when he shuts the door, you spin around to face him again, giggling.

"there's something i want."

"out with it."

"something i need."

"fuckin' tolk then, yeah?"

"want a baby, lieutenant."

"yeah, right mad about tha', luv."

"want your baby."

he laughs, humorless, "be fuckin' honest."

but you are honest. you're honest when you smile wider, and you're honest when you turn around. you're honest when you bend over onto your forearms against the cot in his room, and you're honest when you shimmey your trousers just low enough, right under your ass, showing off the wet cunt you've had since watching his arms flex as he stacked boxes after breakfast.

he steps forward, leaning over, smoothing two big hands up your plush thighs before spreading your ass, watching your little hole pucker. he smirks, chuckling low.

"'f y'want t'be a riley so bad, don't need to 'ave m'baby, swee'eart," he murmurs, but the echo of his belt undoing clinks in the room anyways. you squirm a little when you hear the zipper of his pants.

"but i want it," you whine, and you slide your arms out in front of you, pressing back against him as you grip the thin sheets on his bed. "i want it!"

"shhhhh," he scolds, gripping his cock with a calloused hand and shoving it between your thighs. you moan as he wets his cock along your folds, grinding slow, getting himself nice and slick. "y'want m'baby, swee'eart? wanna 'ave my cubs? gonna be bears, love. they're gonna split y'open, got such a little cunt."

you cry out, pressing back against him.

"want it! i want it!"

ghost chuckles again, laying over you, his weight pinning you down as he laces his fingers with yours. he's so big, you can feel him heavy and throbbing between your thighs. you need it, even if it doesn't take, even if he just takes you apart right now, you need it.

"you'll make such a good mama though," he mutters, mostly to himself. "fuck...you'll get so bloody nice and fat. nnghh..." he lets go of one of your hands to smack his paw against one side of your ass, gripping it tight and jiggling it. "every part of ya. right for the taking, luvvie. oll f'me."

he reaches down between you, notching the head at your entrance before sinking in easy. you're so wet now, dripping between your thighs, and he grunts as his hips meet your ass quick.

"tits'll get so big..." he smacks his lips together before giving you a heavy thrust. "fuckin' hell...takin' y'out afta this...gonna make you a fuckin' riley today. how's tha' sound, aye?"

you gurgle a little, a line of drool dribbling down your chin. he leans over, pushing his mask up, and he licks your spit off your face, his breath hot as he starts to pick up the pace, fucking into you quick.

"want y'just like this, every day," he growls in your ear. "in m'bed...spread out for me..." he sucks on the edge of your ear, making you cry. "gonna 'ave y'for oll three meals, swee'eart--fuck--until we know it takes."

you smile, your cheek smushed into the bed and rubbing raw against the sheets as he fucks into you from behind. his big hands squeeze your own, holding onto you tight, and you push back against him, your orgasm coming unexpectedly as he babbles in your ear about your tight cunt, your pretty face, the perfect place for him to empty his cock. it makes your vision go white, but you don't feel satiated until he holds his hips against you from behind and curses as he spills inside.

so creamy, slick and soft, but he refuses to waste a single drop. he keeps his pelvis against you, wrapping a forearm around your waist and yanking you up until your back meets his chest. you giggle, dizzy and a little drunk, leaning your head back against him.

"knew you'd fuck me," you mumble, sticking your tongue out, not satisfied until he leans down and kisses you, sucking your tongue into his mouth and kissing you wet and sloppy. he laughs, his chest rumbling, and you put your hands over his, scratching along his skin as he licks into your mouth.

"tha' right, luv? why's that?"

you giggle. "because i always get what i want, simon."

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