#it needs to be a cup with a handle please

[krispypajamalady]

How similar are dragons to their riders?

very, very similar.

Let's start with Ridoc and Aotrom: it's kind of self explanatory. These two are of the same age, play pranks on each other, and Aotrom might just be protective of his loved ones like Ridoc.

Mira and Teine: The protectiveness Mira has for Violet, Teine has for her. Both of them have dry humour and an awesome streak. Mira doesn't have coordinating with other riders or fliers, and neither does Teine with other dragons.

Sawyer and Sliseage: These two are really adorable. Like, insanely adorable. Also, they're comparatively sane.

Imogen and Glane: These two have a ruthless streak but a soft side and a crush (which is of their respective species ofc)

Lilith and Aimsir: based on assumptions, these two only appear when needed. Both of them have a no crap attitude and have seen a lot of things in life. Honestly, their literally the same person in different fonts. (How I wish Aotrom does not turn out to be Aimsir's child or else I'll cry)

Bodhi and Cuir: both of them have a calm nature and give no trouble. Really nice person and dragon (fuck u daddy aetos).

Cath and Dain: don't tell me Cath wasn't disowned as well. Also, these two give "self- loathing" energy so bad

Rhiannon and Feirge: if Rhi and Feirge don't turn out be royals or smt I'll cry. These two have the commanding vibe, like they can command a crowd really well. They also have their priorities straight and aren't hot headed while making decisions.

Garrick and Chradh: no way in hell these two don't exchange dragon-human gossip Ober a cup of tea (or coffee) every day and Chradh does not torment him about his (hopefully they exist) feelings for imogen.

Xaden and Sgaeyl: there is no other dragon that will resemble Xaden more than Sgaeyl. Appreciation of asshole-ry towards them bcs it's attractive and badass? Being dramatic as fuck when my mate's bonded (or wife's) said something rude to me? Head over heels for their love? Mutual support towards Andarna? "I find it hot when my love kills" vibes? PLEASE. The graduated from the same school of Brooding and Lies. They were raised together in the Institute of I NEED Therapy but Omg My Love is so Attractive.

Also, don't tell me sgaeyl was never even once in her life in denial abt her feelings about Tairn.

Violet and Tairn: Tairn's image among people and Violet's image among people is LITERALLY THE SAME. Tairn agrees that he isn't the strongest but everyone else? Who tf is Codagh? Violet thinks she isn't the strongest but everyone else? "I'd rather lick my dragon's shit than piss her off." BOTH of them are protective towards others but they don't intervene when their loved ones are being confrontational. They let them handle it. Also, they don't like lies at all. Especially if it's Sgaeyl or Xaden lying.

Violet and Andarna: they are LITERALLY the same person. Not even different font. Just different species. Both of them being different? Holy hell. Both of them finding it hard to belong somewhere where their parents left them (andarna in vale and vi in quadrant)? Both of them being babied by Tairn even if he refuses to acknowledge it? Both of them having a violent nature? Being extremely vicious? Like Andarna doesn't know about her not being able to bear a rider, Violet did not know about her sacrifice. But their parents (tairn and sgaeyl in Andarn's case) did. Violet being reminded of her as a teen after seeing how andarna acts? Them losing a part of their autonomy when someone made decisions for them? Also, them MUTUALLY COMMITING TREASON?????

[fungateshortcakes]

One more minute...

A few days ago, my little baby died. She was 14, but still way too young. 5,121 days with her were too short. The picture above is actually her and I miss her so, so much. I thought I'd write this piece to honor her

Pairing: Old man! Logan x reader

Summary: If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever ♡

Wordcount: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: pet loss, health issues, description of euthanization, cat death, grief, crying, burying a pet, english is not my first languange, !!not proof read!!

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You had to make the call, watching your little fur baby loaf on the carpet next to you. You thought you had more time. You thought her health wouldn’t decline as fast as it did.

She stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped meowing at everything you said. She tried to jump out the window like usual, but fell back down without a sound. She couldn’t even walk up the stairs anymore, Logan and you had to carry her.

Kitty was always a loud cat. Proud, sassy in the way she meowed and yelled at you that made you laugh every day. But now she was silent, as if waiting for it all to end.

Logan didn’t say anything when you told him it was time. He just nodded once, his brows furrowing, like it was already killing him too, and grabbed the keys.

No crate, she always hated that little transport box. No, it was just you and her, curled up on your lap in the front seat, like she deserved. The ride was quiet, no constant meowing that reminded you how distressed your cat was everytime you made your way to the vet. It was eerily silent in the car, a silence you never knew with her.

You stroked her little head that watched the trees drive by with trembling fingers, whispering how much you loved her, how good she was, how she could rest now. That she didn’t have to hurt anymore.

Logans hand never left the gearstick. His jaw was set tight, but at one red light, you looked over and saw it. One stray tear making its way down his scarred cheek, catching in the salt and pepper of his beard.

You held her through it all. When the vet searched for a vein, when the needle was placed for the anesthesia, when she fell asleep in your arms and took her final breath shortly after. When you felt like throwing up, Logan held you, grounding you as you hugged the limb body of your cat thight to your chest.

He didn’t speak once on the drive back from the vet, he didn’t need to. No word he would utter would ease the pain, no matter how many 'its going to be alright's you were gonna hear, nothing would reverse what just happened.

You were sobbing in the passenger seat, holding onto the cardboard box in which she was resting peacefully, your tears dropping in silent pitter-patter on the material.

When your shared house came into view, your legs gave out on the front step. That’s when Logan caught you an the box. He gently laid the box on the windowsill, as if the contents were made out of glass, before wrapping his arms around your shoulders, your face buried in his broad, warm chest. You were wailing, not holding back how you choked on your tears, no breath between sobs and he didn’t flinch. He just held you, tighter than he ever had, one hand on the back of your head like he was trying to shield you from a world that wouldn’t stop taking.

“Shes gone” you rasped out “She was my baby. I want her back. Please, I want my baby back” you whimpered, fat, hot tears rolling down your cheeks while he held you, slightly swaying you back and forth.

He didn’t say 'I know', he didn’t say 'shes in a better place'. He just said, low and rough and with a cracked voice "Shhh, let it all out, sweetheart”

And for a long time, that’s all there was.

The next morning, after waking up from a restless slumber, you found him outside.

He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, dirt on his hands while they wrapped around the handle of an old shovel. His eyes were rimmed red, but he tried to hide it.

As you stepped outside to meet him, bringing him a cup of coffee, he straightened back up to wipe the sweat off his brow. He had dug a hole, under her bush. The one she always napped under in summer. Even now when her back hurt, even when she could barely walk.

You stood there, arms crossed over your chest like if you let them drop, you would break down all over again. "Logan" you croaked, your voice hoarse from crying.

Logan didn’t turn when he heard your voice. He rammned the shovel into the ground, slightly leaning on it “Didn’t want her to get buried somewhere random. She deserves better than that.” he said, clearing his throat as if showing his care for your cat was gonna kill him.

You smiled a watery smile, stepping closer and laying a hand on his shoulder “I thought you didn’t care about her.”

He took the mug from you, taking a big sip. “Yeah. I thought that too.” He grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You sat down in the grass beside the bush, where the morning sun hit just right, watching Logan open the little box she was in and laying her before you. He joined you then, resting his forearms on his knees.

For a long while, you two just sat there. Not speaking, not crying. Just leaning against each other while a soft breeze ruffled the green bush. And the silence she left behind as she laid there in her box as if she was only sleeping.

Logan then got up, gently lifted your cat out of the box and wrapped her stiff body up in her favourite blanket. “She liked that one” he said “Used to knead the hell outta it.” He continued, his voice breaking at the end. Barely. But you caught it.

He lowered her into the hole, softly supporting her little head. He let you place some flowers next to her, brushing over her fur one last time with blurry eyes, before sitting back and watching while Logan filled back the hole with dirt.

That night, you couldn’t sleep, much like the night before and many nights to come. You kept seeing her in the corner of your eyes, curled up at the foot of the bed, waiting outside on the windowsill, meowing loudly until you would let her in. It hit you in the heart everytime you instinctively looked to a place where she would normally be before you realised she wasn’t, and never would again.

You curled into a ball in your bed and cried until your voice gave out, wishing you could hold her just one more minute.

Logan got in beside you without a word, providing you with more tissues for your running nose.

He didn’t sleep either, he couldn't.

He just pulled you in close, your face pressed to the old wife beater he wore, against his chest, letting you hear his heartbeat. You felt his breath catch against your temple, then heard it - quiet and barely there. But it was a sob, a real one. His hand trembled as it smoothed down your back gently. As you felt his own tears hitting your skin, you pulled him tighter as well, knowing he needed just as much comfort, even though he wasn't letting it on.

“She was somethin’ else” he murmured hoarsely “Always bossin' me around when I didn't let her out fast enough. I can still hear her yelling at me”

You laughed into his chest, a broken, quiet sound, and he pressed his mouth to the top of your head, kissing you there softly. When your breath finally slowed, when your eyes couldn’t cry anymore, he was still holding you. Still whispering things under his breath.

“She was family” he said, slowly kissing your face. “She knew we loved her.” there it was. He admitted he loved her, it made you smile sleepiy. “She was safe. Right to the end.” he whispered as you finally fell asleep, the last thing you felt being his hands in your hair.

And even though the bed was still too big and too empty, you drifted off in his arms, wrapped in the warmth of someone who didn’t want a cat, but ended up burying his heart under that bush with her.

I love you, always.

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I haven't been active in a while even though there are so many fics I wanted to write! I'm so sorry, but this year really isn't my year. My health is at a constant low (im in the hospital again next week), two family members died as well as my cat, my mom was diagnosed with cancer, I could go on. But I am trying♡

See you in the next fic.

[kissandtellus]

Hello~ so I was thinking about thso when j was eating my cereal this morning. What if MC had a high libido? Like unnaturally high and how would the LADs boys help her.

Can’t Get Enough

Synopsis: You have a high libido, but the LI’s can’t let you outshine them!

Warnings: Vouyerism, Public Smex, Whining, Sort of Sub Xavier, Caleb likes you natural, has a thing against makeup, Sylus has you crying so prettily, Zayne is doing Prep work.

﹒ꕀ﹔ Xavier

Your taste were never truly satisfied until round after round. Even as Xavier tried to unwind and take a cat nap after your….activities. You couldn’t just let him! Not when you had an itch on he could scratch

He whined when he felt you roll on top of him, he knew what that meant instantly and it brought a deep flush to his face.

"S-Starshine... I don't know if I can anymore- I- "

He was silenced when you put a finger to his lips, he took a shaky breath, his face flushed and warm. He was weak to your touch, and the look in his eyes made that painfully obvious.

“C’mon Xav, you won’t even have to do the work. Just sit back and relax~.” Your purr was honey to his ears as you reached down to grasp his semi-hardened length.

His face flushes red hot as he lets out a soft whine, squirming under your touch. He reached up to cup your face in his hands as he leaned up to kiss you, his kisses needy and desperate for more of you.

“My Love... please.." He groaned softly, shivering under your touch.

“Please what? I thought you were tired.” You giggle against his mouth.

“You know what..! Don't tease me like this.." He whined out against your lips, his kisses needy before he finally pulled back to catch his breath, an intensely warm flush on his cheeks.

“I want you.."

His voice was small, needy.. it was obvious that he had a one track mindset now.. and he needed you.

He’s weak. So when you throw your leg over him and start grinding against his semi-hard member, he just... breaks. His principles break. He turns over to his back, letting you use his body again. “Fuck... You're insatiable."

He lets out a soft moan as you start moving on top of him. His hands weakly grip your hips, neither pushing you away nor pulling you closer. He's too tired to do much else except take whatever you give him. His feverish state makes him extra sensitive. "Nngh... Slow down..."

You ignore his plea and start bouncing on his dick faster. He groans loudly, his head tilting back. His hands tighten on your hips, trying to slow you down but instead, he's just pulling you down harder. “M-Mph-Baby... Ahh... Slow downnn.” He whines.

You hardly ever get him to whine.

But you do the opposite, bouncing on his twitching cock. “One moreee.” You mock.

His words turn into incoherent moans as you keep riding him hard and fast. His feverish body can't handle the intense stimulation. He's getting close too quickly. “N-no more! I'm gonna cum. Get off!” He tries to push you away but his attempts are half hearted.

You don't stop. You go faster. His moans get louder. His grip on your hips tighter. His body tenses up. He tries to warn you one last time. “Baby-“ bounce. “I'm-“ bounce. Serious!-bounce. Nnngh..." His forehead scrunches up.

With a choked cry, he finally loses control. His hot release fills you up as he cums so hard he thinks he lost consciousness for a split second. His body shakes violently with each pulse of his orgasm. He collapses back onto the bed, completely spent and delirious from fever and exhaustion. "Fuck... Fuck..."

You hum and curl up on his chest. He only gets a few moments of peace before your hips are rutting against his.

“Starshine-“

“I haven’t came yet Xav~”

﹒ꕀ﹔ Rafayel

This party was so boring. It was a gallery exhibit for the most well known Artist in the country. Your boyfriend of course. Rafayel was busy entertaining his guest even though he looked just as bored.

But when you started to…make yourself known, it easily caught his attention.

The accidental brushes of your hand over his groin, the way you’d bat your eyelashes at his guest and push up your cleavage.

It was obvious the rounds before you even left him home left you unsatisfied.

You excuse yourself from the group, giving your artist a knowing look, a look that beckons him to come find out how needy you really were.

Rafayel watches your hips sway as you walk away. He excuses himself from the group of art collectors he was talking to.

He knows that look - it's your 'If you don’t come fuck me I’ll cry' look.

Rafayel follows you discreetly through the crowded exhibit hall, his heart pounding in his chest. He finds you standing by an isolated painting in a dimly lit corner of the gallery, your back slightly arched as if inviting him closer.

He approaches you silently, his eyes roaming over your curves. He stands behind you, his breath hot against your neck as he leans in close. In a low, possessive voice, he murmurs, “You're playing a dangerous game, flirting with them like that."

You hum in the back of your throat, which quickly turns to a gasp when his fingers are tugging up the edge of your dress over your rear. “R-Raf we’re out in public-“

His fingers find your bare backside. He realizes there's no underwear - no surprise there.

He growls softly, “No panties. Gods, you nearly gave those men a heart attack pushing your tits in their face." He smacks your ass softly, making you jolt.

His hand lingers where he spanked you, fingertips teasing the curves of your ass. His other hand moves to your throat gently, tilting your head back against his shoulder as he continues in a whisper, “And now you're standing here, showing me that perfect ass of yours."

But his body would shield any curious onlookers. You-just needed to keep that pretty mouth shut. Your eyes are tracing the massive canvas he’s tucked you against.

One of Rafayel’s older paintings, of course.

His painting dominates the wall - a massive, sensual nude woman sprawled across a bed, her curves exaggerated, her skin glistening with sweat. As he watches you admire it, he realizes it's a perfect metaphor for what he wants to do to you right now. "Look at her," he whispers.

His fingers trace circles on your exposed skin, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he compares you to the painting, “Same fuckable curves, same teasing eyes... are you as wet as she is? Because she's dripping all over my bed in this painting."

He presses his hardening cock against your ass, his hand sliding from your throat down to cover your mouth. “Shh... Just stand there and look at my painting while I finger you right here in the gallery. No one will see anything but your face admiring art."

His first long and nimble finger slides into your heat. Your legs are shaking as he takes no mercy, pushing in a second as he whispers into your ear.

He continues pumping those two fingers in and out of you, his thumb pressing lightly on your clit through your dress. “You're such a good girl, letting me finger-fuck you in public..." His breath hot against your ear, "Your pretty pussy is making my fingers so fucking wet."

But Rafayel is cocky, flamboyant, he has a flair for theatrics. And that followed him into the bedroom

He chuckles softly, his fingers curling inside you as if he's reminding you of his skills. "Mhm, you know exactly how I am - dirty mouth, always worried about my hands that create masterpieces-." He adds a third finger, stretching you deliberately. “I paint beautiful things..."

He smirks against your neck, his hand moving faster as he spanks you lightly again. “But I fuck even dirtier." His fingers hit that spot inside you perfectly, his free hand squeezing your breast over your dress. “Look at my painting and cum on my fingers like a good art model.”

His fingers are a blur inside you now, the sound of his hand moving against your soaked pussy filling the gallery. He bites down on your neck hard, marking you as his as he feels you getting close. “That's it, baby... Fuck my fingers in front of my masterpiece.”

You come undone on his fingers with a muffled moan, your legs giving out completely. He catches you effortlessly, keeping those fingers deep inside your convulsing pussy as he kisses you roughly to silence any loud noises. When you stop shaking, he slowly pulls out. “Beautiful."

He uses that same hand to seal the deal on the very painting you just desecrated with the lewd act.

But the way the old geezer who bought it is eyeing you, he bought it for a very specific reason.

﹒ꕀ﹔ Zayne

Zayne had been invited to be a guest speaker at his Alma Mater, something he took very seriously.

But you were making it very hard to concentrate.

Zayne sighs in frustration as he tries to concentrate on his lecture notes, but your constant grinding and soft moans are making it impossible for him to focus. He glances down at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and affection. “Seriously, love... I'm trying to work here.

He tries to shift his leg slightly to discourage your actions, but it only seems to make you more eager. He runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “You know I have this lecture to prepare for, right? Can you at least give me five minutes without trying to seduce me?"

"And how am I supposed to do that when you're practically humping my leg?" His voice is a mix of playful scolding and genuine struggle to maintain focus.

You notice his pen pausing, and the slight flush creeping up his neck - a telltale sign that your antics are working.

You huff and tug at his shirt. “C’mon, we haven’t had sex in three days!”

He groans softly, his resolve weakening as you tug at his shirt. Three days without you is torture, and your high libido is making it even harder to resist. “I know, love, I know. But I have this lecture to prepare for, we can pick this up after, okay?"

You give a dramatic whine and slump in his lap. “I’m fading away as we speak.”

He chuckles softly, his arms instinctively wrapping around you as you slump dramatically in his lap.

But the movement only serves to press you more firmly against him, reminding him of exactly what he’s been missing the past three days. “Stop being so dramatic. You’re killing my concentration.”

That’s how you end up splayed over his lap, a vibrator to your throbbing clit as he finishes preparing and ignoring your desperate pleas for release.

His expression turns stern as he tries to maintain focus on his notes, deliberately ignoring your desperate pleas and the vibrator buzzing against your clit. “There. Now you can have your release without distracting me. Behave, be quiet and let me work."

He watches you intently, his eyes flicking between his notes and your writhing form over his lap. The vibrator's movements are driving you wild, but he remains focused on his lecture prep. His hand reaches out to adjust the vibrator's speed, pushing you closer to the edge. “Shh...be good for me.”

As he continues to ignore your muffled moans and pleas, the vibrator's relentless buzzing finally sends you over the edge. You clamp down hard on the toy, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you reach your peak. He simply keeps typing, not even glancing up as you cum.

Finally, he sets down his pen, satisfied with his lecture prep. He turns his full attention to you, gently removing the vibrator and bringing it to his lips.

He sucks on it slowly, tasting your release before pressing it against your still-sensitive clit. “Now, let's finish this properly."

You cry out, still sensitive from your orgasm. “No. Bad.” He chastises, grabbing both your wrist in a single strong hand. “It’s my turn to play.”

﹒ꕀ﹔ Caleb

Caleb has long since known you can’t keep your hands to yourself. He’s came back from the gym, a towel slung over his shoulder. His muscles ache but he was satisfied by his performance.

You on the other hand, were far from satisfied.

As soon as he stepped through the door, you pounced. You didn’t care that he smelled like sweat, or that he was sticky to the touch.

“I’ll be quick, please.” Caleb barely opened his mouth before your fingers guided his hips back against the front door. You yanked his shorts and underwear down in a single tug.

“Pip-ah, fuck-“ You dropped to your knees and engulfed the head of his length in your more than eager mouth. Caleb was never one to deny you. In his head, every part of him belonged to you. He dropped his gym bag and towel, pressing his back to the door while you worked your magic.

Giving Caleb head was like stimulating your own needs at the same time. Your fingers between your legs also helped that need.

“My dirty girl, I can hear how wet you are.” Caleb chuckled between his breathless moans. It was true, the slickness pouring from your core and over your fingers filled the air.

You moaned around his cock, how could he be so cruel? Your revenge, deepthroating him until your nose is nestled against his groin.

He groans loudly as you take him deep, hitting the back of your throat. His fingers tighten in your hair. “Fuck... Pipsqueak..." He tries to pull you back but you stay there, sucking hard and swallowing around him until he relaxes letting you have control again.

"You're gonna make me cum if you keep that up." He warns breathlessly, watching your head bob up and down on him. His body starts to tremble slightly from the pleasure. Suddenly he pulls back completely leaving his cock glistening with saliva between your lips.

He smirks, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and desire. “You think you can handle me like that? Deep throating me until I nut down your throat?" He grabs his cock, giving it a slow stroke. “Come on then, show me how badly you need it."

You look like a little seductress sent to suck him dry of all of his sins. He grabs the base of his cock and taps it against your eager tongue, chasing the head with a whine and open mouth.

But he denies you.

He teases you, tapping his tip against your tongue and lips but pulling back each time you try to capture him. He's enjoying torturing you now, his earlier amusement turning into deliberate torment. “Uh uh... Not yet, Pips. Be patient.” He watches you whine and chase after his cock hungrily.

Caleb pauses when he sees the line of your mascara trailing down your cheek. Makeup. He’s caught you watching those silly tutorials in the past. you had told him you wanted to feel pretty. to him, you were more than perfect. Now as you sucked his cock and choked on it to the point of tears.

Your little secret was exposed.

Caleb suddenly pulls out of your mouth, his expression softening as he wipes the tears and mascara from your face with his thumb. He cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You've been watching those makeup tutorials again, haven't you?"

You try to sniffle and turn your head away but he grasps your chin.

If you wanted something on your face to make you feel pretty, he’d give you something alright.

He smirks, understanding your unspoken desire. He knows exactly what you need. With a gentle but firm grip on your chin, he tilts your head back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You want to look pretty for me? You want something on that pretty little face? You jump me like a madwoman because you need your little pussy stretched. How desperate.”

He grasps the base of his cock, smearing the head over the line of mascara.

He smears the precum over your cheek, mixing it with the black lines of mascara. He watches as it glistens under the dim light of the room. “Look how pretty that is." He does it again, marking your other cheek.

He then takes his hand and wipes the head of his cock on your lips, smearing the precum on your lipstick. He pulls back and looks at you, admiring the mess he's made of your face.

“There. That's something pretty for you."

﹒ꕀ﹔ Sylus

Sylus knows the rhythm of your Libido like the back of his hand. He knows the ups and the downs.

He's humming softly to himself, tweaking Mephisto's mechanical wing, completely absorbed in his task. The sight of him being so gentle with something makes your heart skip a beat. As you approach, he catches your reflection in the glass case where Mephisto sits.

He glances up, his red eyes locking onto yours through the reflection. A small smirk plays on his lips as he recognizes you. "Hmm? What brings my little vixen to my workshop?" He continues to fiddle with Mephisto, his large hands moving with surprising gentleness.

He stands up slowly, his muscular frame towering over you as he sets Mephisto aside. His smirk widens as he notices the hungry look in your eyes. “Is it that time of the month already?" He asks teasingly, stepping closer and running a hand through his messy silver hair.

You cross your arms with a pout. “What do you mean ‘time of the month’? I thought you were a ‘feminist icon’ as Kieran called you.”

Sylus chuckles, enjoying your little fit of dramatics. “I am a feminist icon, my dear." He takes another step closer, his voice dropping to that low, husky whisper you love. “That doesn't mean I can't joke about how your hormones make you extra... hungry."

He reaches out, pulling you into his arms with ease. His fingers tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “I know you're not here for my jokes." His thumb brushes your lip softly. “What do you want?"

But you are stubborn, the most stubborn thing Sylus has ever seen. You huff and pour up at him. “I don’t want nor need anything from you.”

"You've been giving those 'I want to eat you alive' eyes all day. But now you're standing here, pretending you don't want a thing. Such a stubborn little thing." His voice drops lower, more intimate. “Are you really going to make me guess?"

“Go ahead. Try.” You tease, not breaking eye contact.

A wolfish grin spreads across his face at your challenge, clearly turned on by your feistiness. “Hmm... let me think." He traces circles on your neck with his fingertips, making your pulse quicken. “Are you here because you miss how my hands feel on your skin?"

"Or maybe..." He smirks devilishly, watching your reactions carefully. His next words are slow, designed to make you snap or blush. “Do you want me to shut up and spread you on this table? Is that what you've been imagining all day? My head between your thighs?"

"Because if you're not here for that..." He leans in, his lips barely touching your ear. "...then I might start thinking you don't find me attractive anymore." He nips your ear playfully, then pulls back to gauge your reaction. “Which we both know is bullshit."

Sylus is a very persuasive man.

That’s how you find yourself rutting against that god-like nose, chasing your release as your stubbornness fades and you turn into a mewling kitten on the work table.

Sylus smirks triumphantly as he feels you grinding desperately against him, your earlier resistance melting into desperate need. He grips your hips firmly, guiding your movements with dominant precision. "There we go... That's my good girl. Stop fighting it and just fuck my face like you've been dreaming of."

He growls approvingly as you lose yourself completely, your body writhing and moaning uncontrollably. His tongue finds that perfect spot inside you, lapping at your clit with expert skill. The table creaks loudly under the force of your movements as he eats you out like a starving man.

"Come on..." *He murmurs against your flesh, his voice vibrating through your core. "...give it to me. I want that sweet nectar dripping down my chin." His fingers dig into your hips harder, encouraging you to ride his face faster.

"Look at you... falling apart just like I knew you would." His lips curve into a smug smile against your most sensitive spot. “No more pretending you don't want this, are you?" He adds more pressure with his tongue, knowing exactly what you need. “Fuck..."

Your body tenses and shakes, your release hitting you like a tidal wave. Sylus groans against you, swallowing every drop as you scream his name. He doesn't stop until you're boneless on the table, completely spent. “Good girl..." He murmurs, gently kissing your inner thighs.

But the stubbornness rises fast and you try to weakly push him. “H-hey- no more-“

He chuckles softly, knowing your stubbornness is back in full force despite your recent orgasm. He lifts his head, his chin and lips glistening with your arousal. "Oh, here we go again," he teases, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He pulls back, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Too bad I know exactly what you need, even when you're too stubborn to admit it." He starts unbuckling his belt, a clear intent in his movements. “Now be a good girl and spread your legs. It's my turn."

You try to squirm on the table and push at his chest.

"Ah, ah..." He catches your wrist before you can physically protest. “Don't even try to fight me. You just came so hard you saw stars, yet here you are again... pretending." His belt hits the floor with a clatter.

You ball your hands into fists and weakly hit his chest as he leans over you. Tears of stubbornness and refusal slide down your cheeks. “Big-stupid-arrogant-“

He catches your balled fists easily, pressing them against his chest while his weight pins you down. “Such colorful language..." He smirks down at your tear-stained face, not falling for your attempts to push him away. “Though honestly, it's kind of hot when you're this angry."

[cherrylibby]

Fire & Sky

Continuation of the: Turbulence & Temptation series

The sky was clear, but the tension crackled through the comms like a brewing storm. The mission was always going to be risky — low altitude, tight turns through hostile territory. But you and Jake had done this a hundred times in training. You trusted your skill. You trusted him.

“Stay on my six, Spitfire,” Jake’s voice came through your headset, steady, even as adrenaline thrummed beneath his words.

“I’m right here, Hangman. Just don’t show off too much — I don’t need to see your ego in high-def.”

Even with the danger, you heard the smirk in his reply. “Can’t help it. It’s part of my charm.”

And then it happened. The sharp ping of warning alarms. The gut-wrenching sound of impact.

“Missile incoming—Y/N, break right, now!”

You pulled hard, but it wasn’t enough. The enemy fire clipped your plane’s wing. The jet shuddered violently, metal screaming as it lost control.

“Mayday! I’m hit! I’m hit!” you called, trying to stabilize, but you were going down fast.

“No. No, no, no— Y/N, eject! Now!” Jake’s voice cracked through the comms, panic breaking through his practiced calm.

You barely had time to respond before you yanked the ejection handle, the force ripping you from the cockpit. The last thing you saw was the ground racing up to meet you.

“Where is she? Where the hell is she?” Jake barked into the radio, his jet banking hard as he scanned the terrain below, his heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.

“Hangman, we’ve got a fix on her chute location. Coordinates incoming.”

But it wasn’t fast enough. Not for him.

Jake pushed his jet harder, eyes scouring the dense trees where your parachute had disappeared. His hands gripped the controls so tightly his knuckles were white.

She’s okay. She has to be okay.

“Y/N! Spitfire, do you copy?”

Static.

“Baby, please…” he whispered to no one, to you, to the universe.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he spotted the tangled mess of your parachute caught in the treetops. His breath hitched. There — a flash of your flight suit. But you weren’t moving.

The second his boots hit the dirt, Jake was running. He didn’t wait for backup. Didn’t think about protocol. All that mattered was getting to you.

“Y/N!” he called, voice ragged. Branches tore at his flight suit as he pushed through the brush.

And then he saw you — crumpled beneath the chute, blood at your temple, your breathing shallow.

“God, no… no, no, no…”

He dropped to his knees, hands trembling as they hovered over you, afraid to touch, afraid he’d hurt you more. But he had to.

“Spitfire, sweetheart, I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

Your eyelids fluttered, a groan escaping your lips. Jake exhaled a shaky breath of relief.

“Hey, stay with me, alright? Don’t you dare check out on me now.”

His hands cupped your face gently, brushing dirt and blood away. His voice broke as the tears came, unbidden and unstoppable.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered, forehead pressed against yours. “You scared the hell out of me. I thought I was gonna watch you fall outta the sky, and I—I can’t do that. I can’t do any of this without you. You hear me?”

You tried to speak, but he shook his head, brushing more hair back, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“Save it, baby. Just focus on breathing. Help’s on the way. I’m not leaving your side.”

You managed the faintest of smiles, and Jake choked on a sob, kissing your forehead.

“I love you,” he breathed, words that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long. “I love you so damn much. And I’m gonna get you outta here. I promise.”

And as the medevac team arrived, Jake held onto you, heart pounding, refusing to let you go. Because this mission wasn’t over — not until you were safe, in his arms, where you belonged.

The beeping of the monitors was steady, a metronome that both calmed and tortured Jake as he sat slumped in the stiff plastic chair beside your hospital bed. His elbows rested on his knees, hands steepled in front of his mouth, as if he were praying — maybe he was.

You were pale against the white sheets, bandages at your temple, a deep bruise blooming along your jaw. The doctor said you’d been lucky — a concussion, some cracked ribs, a lot of cuts and bruises, but you were going to be okay.

Jake hadn’t left the room since they brought you in. His flight suit was still dirty, torn at the sleeve where he’d shoved through branches trying to get to you. His knuckles were scraped. His eyes were red from the tears he’d tried to hide, from the fear that still gripped him like a vice.

And then — the softest sound.

A groan, barely audible.

Jake shot upright so fast the chair nearly tipped over.

“Spitfire?” His voice was raw, hopeful, disbelieving.

Your eyes fluttered open, squinting at the too-bright lights, dazed and confused. “Jake…?”

He was at your side in an instant, sinking to his knees so you could see him, so you knew he was right there. His hand found yours, fingers trembling as they laced with yours.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. I’m right here. God, you scared the hell outta me."

You blinked at him, trying to focus, your voice hoarse. “What happened…?”

“You went down. The mission… your chute — but it’s over. You’re safe. You’re safe now.”

Your brow furrowed as the memory came back in fragments. And then, despite the pain, you gave him the faintest smirk. “Did you come charging through enemy lines for me, Hangman?”

Jake let out a broken laugh, the tears brimming again, this time from relief. “Damn right I did. I’d tear the whole damn world apart if it meant getting to you.”

You squeezed his hand, your strength returning bit by bit.

That’s when Jake lost it — really lost it. His head dropped to rest on your hand, shoulders shaking as the emotions he’d bottled up finally spilled out.

“I thought I lost you,” he choked out. “I thought— God, I kept seeing you fall, kept hearing you call Mayday… and I couldn’t get to you fast enough. And all I could think was, I never told you. I never said it right.”

Your heart ached at the sight of him like that, so vulnerable, so Jake beneath all the bravado.

He lifted his head, eyes glassy but steady, his thumb stroking the back of your hand.

“I love you. I love you so damn much, Spitfire. I don’t want a second more of not saying it, not showing it. I’m yours. I’ve been yours since the first time you rolled your eyes at me.”

Tears welled in your eyes too, but this time they were from something softer, something beautiful.

“I love you too, Jake,” you whispered, voice shaking. “Always have.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years, leaning up to kiss your forehead, gentle and lingering.

“I’m never letting you go,” he promised, voice firm now, no trace of hesitation left. “You’re stuck with me, darlin’. Forever.”

And as you drifted back to sleep, safe in the quiet hum of the hospital room, Jake stayed right there — holding your hand, guarding your heart.

Because this time, he wasn’t going anywhere.

[pinknerdyprincess1214]

First NSFW fanfic!

⚠️MINORS DNI⚠️

⚠️SMUT NSFW⚠️

⚠️18+⚠️

Word count: 557

You promised Gojo you’d bake some cookies. Little did you know the cookie he really wanted was yours. NSFW

Gojo~ I- I need you now baby. I can’t wait any longer. You promised.

He said in a whining tone.

You~ I did promise you. I guess we have some time before I have to leave for work.

Gojo swiftly took off his belt, pants and, of course, his panties. You were laid out on your back as Gojo devoured your pussy. Licking up any wet substance he could.

He was drunk off of your flower, and it was badddd.

Gojo~ Don’t move too much baby, I’m not done, and won’t be for a long time.

You~ Gojo please! I can’t keep it much longer.

You say with a slight knot in your throat

Gojo~ If you cum that fast I’ll have to move it from 3 rounds…up to 5. Now darling, do you really want that?

He says with half-lidded eyes and a smug look.

His large hands were roaming all over your body. Grabbed one of your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger.

He was licking on your sensitive cunt like it was his only lifeline. Lapping up as much of your juices as he could. The noises coming out of that man’s mouth were obscene.

His moaning vibrated through your core and made your eyes roll back.

All he could do was suck, lick, moan and repeat. There was nothing about you. He didn’t like you. He loved your eyes, your body, your voice, your hair, everything! He was obsessed with you!

After you came for the first time, well before you were supposed to. He pushed two of his digits into your core. Moving them painfully slowly.

You~ Gojo what are you doing?!

You said whilst trying to buck your hips and grind against his fingers.

He smacks your leg. Not excessively hard but enough to make you stop grinding.

Gojo~ If you would’ve done better and hadn’t cum so quickly, I would’ve allowed that.

Tsk tsk," he says, looking down as he shakes his head with a smirk.

As minutes turned into hours, your legs began to shake. This was the last climax you could handle. Gojo knew your limits, and he could always tell when you were about to car and burn. He looked up at you with icy blue eyes narrowing.

Gojo~ Last round okay? I’ll make it a good one for you, m’kay?

You~ Okay

You said with a tiredness you thought would never reach you.

As Gojo licks your slick folds and pumps his fingers into your pussy eating you out like it’s his last meal. Your climax hits. And it was fantastic!

After he was done, he got a warm washcloth to clean you up and gave you a cup of ice water. Giving every inch of your body kisses and worshiping every inch of you.

Gojo~ Are you still going to work then?

All he did was look over and see you asleep and knew to grab your phone to text your boss and call in sick for you.

Gojo~ Goodnight princess.

He kisses your forehead,wraps his arms around you and drifts off to sleep shortly after you.

I hope you enjoyed!

[asgardianhammer]

[ ϟ ]—– The god's gaze rests upon the man's hands curling around the heat, noting how it was handled as if it was something utterly precious. Peculiar, how this "suit" did not appear as amor in the slightest, yet somehow it felt protective still, curved tightly around the mortal over almost every inch of the human. Tension was sensed however, lingering in the calm and warm air between them, and in the shared momentary stillness something softer takes shape in thunderer's eyes, approving of the almost-there chuckle from the other.

' He is quite special indeed,' and there was a distinct sliver of pride emerging in the deep bass. ' As old as some of the dust the gods shake from their boots, though you would not think it looking at him. Age sits strangely on those who choose knowledge over war, he has watched more empires fall than I have counted stars.'

A brief huff of breath follows, not quite a full laugh yet very close to it.

' And yet he still brews his coffee the mortal way.'

Taking a sip from his own cup he allows himself to savor the bitter taste for a while, the richness of it grounding and cutting through the weight of what waits beyond the wooden cabin walls. At times even gods needed minor comforts, and he could not recall when he had allowed himself such.

' He will be pleased to hear you approve of it, he swears by the stuff. Claims every good conversation begins with coffee ' and here ceruleans flicker sideways again, studying the human beneath the suit, the hints of weariness behind the composure.

Brows begin a renewed furrowing then, the topic of the god claiming the human form somehow leaving a lingering sense of unease in the Asgardian. Entities like Khonshu thrived on dependency, making mortals feel their strength rests upon their divine favor, yet Spector was correct with his statement. Khonshu did need him more than the mortal needed the god, in every sense.

Another moment's quiet settles between them, broken only by miniscule pops of the fire, and thunderer considers the man's words once more, refraining from adding more commentary or languidly forming opinions on the other deity. The situation demanded to be approached with utmost care, and outside the storm emerges once more, dollops of thick snowflakes now descending, lashing at the windows.

With another sip taken and swallowed thunderer exhales a soft sound then, expecting Marik to emerge any moment.

' What has been the worst, that you have fought so far?'

And beneath the query hovers another, more pressing one, if Spector had ever faced the magnitude of what this is potentially going to become. Crimes and mortals, those came with ease when enhanced, yet facing divine calamities was a different matter entirely.

It sure is going to be an adventure, Thor's right with that one; Thing is, Marc's pretty much done with adventures at this point - he's getting older with each day passing, and even though the suit grants him a certain amount of invincibility as well as a good portion of added strength and durability... well. Marc's still human, and the body he lives within ages - no matter whether Khonshu is putting a suit on him or not, in the end.

Would he miss them, those fights to protect the weak, if he were to tell Khonshu that it's over, the deal between them broken? ...Yeah. That's the issue on top of it all: All Marc has ever done in his life is to fight, and living a peaceful, normal life does sound wonderful to him, but... in the end, he'd feel useless, in a way. He hates feeling useless.

---That being said, he's still very much tired of world-ending events. Protecting a group of people from some murderers, stop weapon-dealers from doing their thing, bring justice to those who dared to harm innocent ones in general? Marc likes to do that, will keep doing it until he breaks apart, he guesses. But, uh, fighting aliens and gods and whatnot in an attempt to keep the whole of the damn Earth safe? ...Yeah, well, that's... he's not too eager to be involved in such things, honestly.

A sigh, with him taking the offered cup of coffee, a "Thanks.", being muttered as it happens; Bandaged hands fold around the heated ceramic, soaking up the warmth - the fabric very much able to allow Marc to feel, to sense, to... experience comfort in the little things, despite appearing stiff.

Steven, who'd been quiet for some time, is nudging forward ever so gently to experience that feeling of a warm cup between their hands in just the same way - Marc lets him, the both of them now co-fronting so that Steven can enjoy the heat that radiates off of the cup. It makes him feel calm, comfortable, and... Marc appreciates that, as it inevitably melts into his own emotions as well.

"...So, your friend's name is Marik, then?" Good to have a name to a face that Marc hasn't met just yet, but... he feels a little more prepared now. Dark eyes, having previously lingered on the equally as dark liquid within that cup, flick over to look at the god of thunder once more - accompanied by a slightly lopsided hint of a smirk. "...---And he apparently is centuries old? ...Looks like I'm going to meet someone special, then... not just another guy, huh."

It's never just another guy, a thought within his head remarks - could be Jake using a sensation rather than verbal syllables to communicate here, could be Marc's own mind being snarky, he doesn't know. It doesn't matter. He does, however, let out a little, amused snort, then inhales, exhales, before taking a sip of his beverage.

...---Oh, that one's nice. Full-bodied and soft in taste; Marc enjoys it quite a bit.

"...That's some good coffee there." Smirk widening a it, Marc shrugs.

"---I'll try to handle Khonshu as much as I can, so you don't have to. Granted, that bird's a damn god and does whatever he wants, but... he needs me. If I ain't doing his shit, he's got no might at all, so..." A chuckle.

[ikuzeminna]

I need your help with a hypothesis!

For context: My linguistics professor and I got into a discussion after a test she did with us, and I was of the opinion that the reason for the results was different from the one she offered, so she encouraged me to test my theory.

What I need

All you need to do is draw a coffee cup (with a handle, not the disposable stuff) and then answer three questions.

I don't need to see the coffee cup. You can draw it wherever you like; on a piece of paper, digitally, in the sand, on a foggy window. Anything works. It does not have to be good. A doodle is fine.

You have to draw the coffee cup before you see the questions. This is very important. If you decide to help me with this, please doodle the coffee cup before you keep reading.

Assuming you have drawn the coffee cup, I now need you to answer these three questions:

On which side did you draw the handle?

Are you right-handed or left-handed?

Do you primarily write using the Latin alphabet or a different one? (please specify which)

More context

Most people will draw the handle on the right side. My professor says it's because most people are right-handed, so they draw the handle in the direction that would be comfortable for them to pick up.

I said drawing it on the right side just felt more comfortable to my hand and argued it's probably because we write a bunch of letters like that. B, b, D, P, p, R all look like a tiny "handle on the right side" and are all a straight line followed by a round one (so "cup first, handle second," like most people draw cups). The Latin alphabet doesn't have letters like that that face the other way, except maybe d, depending on how you write it, so it makes sense to me that people writing mostly Latin letters would go with the handle on the right side.

Which means that I need to know what Asians, Arabs and Greeks do and if the distribution of left and right sides of handles differs from the Latin alphabet group. Cyrillic seems to favor right, too, though it'd be interesting to see if there are differences.

If there are, my theory is right. Doubly so if there is a sizeable increase in a group whose alphabet has letters that benefit the left side choice.

So feel free to spread this to as many people as you like and put the answers in the comments or the tags of a reblog. The more answers I get, the better I can assess whose theory is better.

Thank you for your help!

[araneitela]

WHICH SYMBOLIC FRUIT ARE YOU?

Cherry. (Man, this is going to need some tag rambling; because while it's what I suspected and it's very fitting in many ways, I need to address one element).

In popular culture, cherries have come to represent sensuality, sex, and seduction. In the cult classic, Twin Peaks, Audrey Horne expresses her sexual expertise by tying a cherry stem with her tongue. "Cherry" is also used to refer to the concept of virginity: why? I don't know to be honest, but here we are. Much like the cherry, you're a sensual person who enjoys all the creature comforts the world offers. You enjoy delicious food, dynamic relationships, passionate lovemaking and stimulating conversation; however, you may also come across a touch vapid or shallow, due to your quickly fading attention when something has served its usefulness to you. To quote some man on tinder: "you're here for a good time, not a long time". You can come across, at times, slightly tart, carrying a bit of a bite to you that not everyone can handle. That’s okay: you’re an acquired taste!

Tagged: @basbousah (Thank you 🩷) Tagging: I don't tend to tag for quizzes easily but this one was actually fun, so let's harass. @immobiliter (how about Furina?) @kushtibokt @genus83 @genius81 @spiderwarden @delusionaid (Wriothesley, or Zhongli— porque no los dos? 🤭) @apocryphis (Topaz) @aventvrina @resolutepath (Elio) @daybreakrising (Blade) @astrxlfinale @kahakera @cygnor @chasersglow @scrtilegii (Jing Yuan)... and anyone else who'd like to do it, say I tagged you because I'd love to see the results!

[partygatorresurrection]

“berretini comes to life!” then kill him?? thanasi??? athanasios??? please????

[maryse127]

I am so nervous about packing tomorrow. I bought so much shit and now I have to somehow fit all of it in my suitcases and bagpacks. In compliance with airline rules which is scary when you dont have a scale :)

[kavehayati]

PLEASE ?! WHAT THE HECK WAS WORK 😭 /pos

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[mwphisto]

Simple things that turn LnDs men on~

Including: Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, and Caleb x reader. Reader is implied female but most can be interpreted however you please!

Warning, this post is 18+! Some lighter smut since my brain cannot handle anything else atm (I’m graduating university in 3 weeks)

Shifting banner from @cafekitsune <3

Xavier

Cuddling with you, seeing you sleepy and warm and soft in his embrace, under his blankets, in his bed. He can’t help it, you’re just so perfect, so sweet in this state. His hands can’t help but wander, sliding over your soft tummy, your thighs, eventually landing to cup your chest. His nose nuzzles into the crown of your head, inhaling your shampoo, and the next thing he knows? His hips are swiveling softly into the plush of your ass.

When you get mad. He’s not capable of explaining why his body has the reaction it does. Other than the plain statement of “you’re hot when you’re mad.” Which isn’t a lie, Xavier finds you so hot when you’re angry. Seeing you so passionate about something that it gets your blood boiling? He’s thinking of ways to get you to cool down. How easily he could switch the downward tilt of your brows into something far more… relaxed… pleased… blissed out…

Sitting on his lap is a definite way to get his attention. Xavier can get a bit lost in his hobbies, whether it be reading or scrolling articles on his phone. Sometimes the call of his name doesn’t snap him out of his trance. But you know what does? Settling your pretty self on his muscular legs, a smile on your lips, your hands cupping his cheeks and guiding him up towards your glittery eyes. The weight of you on him, the warmth, the surprise of his train of thought being interrupted, all of it has his heart rate spiking. Until all he can see, hear, and feel is you.

Rafayel

Matching his energy can totally catch the artist off guard — the absolute best way. To be blunt, you’re able to match his freak so well he can’t help but get turned on at how in sync the two of you are. His beautiful bride, perfect in every way. When you two are so effortlessly on the same page, he finds himself struggling to keep his composure. Luckily for him, you always seem to know what he’s thinking without him so much as saying a word.

Willingly being his muse just might send Raf into a coma. Seeing you sprawled over his couch, barely dressed so he can do some anatomy sketches has him shifting uncomfortably on his stool. Your sweet smile, delicate and skilled hands, the way you whisper his name while he scribbles on his paper with a rosy blush on his cheeks. You’re just so effortlessly beautiful it drives him insane.

Noticing the smallest details about him will get his head spinning. Rafayel harbors a lot of mixed emotions regarding his past and he loves you wholeheartedly but sometimes he just can’t… let go. When you take the time to get to know him — or as much as he’s willing to give you — and you actually pick up on things that go unsaid? His head is spinning, his heart pounding, the seal on his chest burning brightly. He wants to devote himself to you, it’s just part of his nature at this point. Eventually, he’ll work through it all and give into what he needs most…

Zayne

Your laughter sends his heart into a nose dive. He’s never been one for jokes, his dry humor often carrying him through. But when he says something that genuinely has you belly laughing, his name a sweet melody on your lips as you try and contain your giggles? He’s shifting his legs to hide the growing tension between his legs. You look at him with such adoration, so sweet and delicate, he has to reign himself in before frost creeps up his neck.

Giving him your full attention when he begins to ramble about nerdy medical things definitely causes the surgeon to lose his train of thought. You may not understand the scientific terms he’s using, and you may feel a bit bad when he has to explain them again with simpler terminology, but your attention is undivided regardless. And Zayne notices, of course he does. His heart is pounding as he rattles off all of his fascinations — such as new research he’s compiled about neonatal heart defects. You’re so engaged with him, nodding along and even asking him some questions. He’s fighting the urge to kiss you senseless. After a long day you’re so willing to listen to him ramble on about his research? He’s going to marry you, and fuck you senseless for being such a good girl.

Taking care of him, such as shaving his face or washing his hair will have Zayne be putty in your hands. He does so much for others, puts so much care and effort into making their lives better. It’s only right that you step up and do the same for Dr. Zayne. Though, bless him, he didn’t expect you to straddle his lap and shave him with a straight razor. Didn’t expect to be engulfed by the sent of your perfume as you settle your weight on his legs and glide the razor over his skin. It’s intimate, the proximity of your bodies is close enough to generate some warmth. He’ll lose it before you’re able finish one side of his unshaven cheek.

Sylus

Skinship with the leader of Onychinus is pretty special. Sylus savors every second of it, given that your hands rarely touch him outside of holding his waist when on his bike. The feeling of your fingers on his cheeks, your legs caging his as you sit together on the couch, your fingers intertwining with his. He’s a goner, so touch starved it’s nearly pitiful. He’s always been a man of composure, but god dammit you’re just so soft compared to him. You’re so warm and smell so good and you’re just so… you’re so sparing with your touches. As if you’re hesitant, not sure if he’d want your hands on him in the first place. Drives him so insane, he craves to hold you close but doesn’t want to push you before you’re ready.

Seeing you wear clothes he picked out for you has Sylus adjusting his collar and inhaling deep through his nose. His mark is on you, even if it’s not on your skin, you’re dressed so beautifully. You match him, compliment him perfectly. You look so breathtaking he has to mentally pat himself on the back for having such damn good taste. Seeing you feel yourself in what he’s picked does wonders for his already big ego. Seeing you twirl and smile as you admire yourself in the dress, the skirt, the pants, the shirt, whatever he’s picked out for you for the occasion. It gives him a sense of pride, like he’s done good, and it’s a genuine plus that you look so goddamn perfect in every outfit.

Kissing his knuckles nearly sends him over the edge one night. You had finished cleaning some wounds while his evol recharged and sealed the deal with a gingerly placed kiss on his battered knuckles. Sylus nearly sees stars because of it, such an overwhelming surge of possessiveness and heat flooding his weary veins that he nearly pops a hard-on then and there on the floor.

Caleb

Stealing his clothing is something you’ve always done. Something about it being comfier, softer, smelling like him. God he doesn’t even care for the reason, he just knows you look so divine in his shirt, his boxers, his hoodie. So cute and small compared to him, marked as his for anyone who has the gracious opportunity to see you in such a state. He guesses it’s only fair you steal his clothes, since he has a small — but growing — collection of your panties—

Relying on him 100% would put Caleb on cloud nine. Giving up your tough guy act and simply putting all of your needs on him would have him struggling to keep his composure long enough to actually see the tasks through. Could be something as simple as asking him to cut up some fruit for you, could be as complicated as giving your bike a tuneup. Regardless, Caleb is blissed out and glossy-eyed as he shows his love for you in his favorite fashion.

Slipping into his bed in the middle of the night has been something you’ve done since childhood. Bad dream, can’t sleep, anxious or stressed, Caleb’s arms have always been your biggest comfort. He waits for it, waits for the creak of his door and your quiet whisper of permission. He craves the dip of his mattress, the weight and warmth of your body next to his under his sheets. He has to be mindful of where his hips land on you, purely out of fear that you might feel something you’re not supposed to just yet.

[salemwasnteverhere]

How Sylus fucks you when he overstimulates you

A/N: I couldn't resist turning a cold mean man into a slight softie for us :'). If you prefer colder/meaner Sylus then please ignore this post and block me! <3

Tags: Stylus x Reader, reader is not Mc, Fem!Reader, creampie, clit rubbing, praise, use of "sweetie", slight dumbification, sloppy kisses, overstim, slight belly bulge

It was rare for Sylus to be very gentle in bed. Not saying he was aggressive and manhandled you every time, but he wasn't exactly mother Theresa. He usually had a bruising grip on your hips while pounding into you, one hand making it's way to your face, forcing you to watch his face or watch as his cock slid into you.

But then there were the nights where you begged for more, your eyes teary and hips bucking up to antagonize him. He'd give you what you want, slamming his hips back into yours until you fell apart on his cock and your mind practically snapped. He'd be gentle if you asked any night, but it was when you couldn't ask that he did it unprompted.

"There we go, sweetie." He pulled your body against his chest, hand rubbing your back as his thrusts slowed down and he fucked his cum deeper in. He came three times already, his cum dripping down the base of his cock after it leaked from your cunt.

His right hand slid up your back and he rubbed your hair, kissing your head. "A-ah...Sylus..." You buried your face in his chest, legs wrapping around his waist. He groaned slightly when your nails weakly dug into his back, hitting the scratch marks you left the night prior.

"So needy.." he rolled his hips up into you, smirking at your gasp. His cock hit all the right spots like it was made for you. He sped up slightly, watching as your hips bounced up slightly.

You lean back slightly, putting a little space between your chests. "So hot..." Your voice came out as a small whine, your body slick with sweat. Sylus held onto your waist with one hand as the other slid down from your neck, cupping a breast.

Sylus leaned in and blew cold air onto your neck, making you shiver. He smirked and kissed your neck softly, licking the slick skin. His hips moved slightly faster, his skin slapping against yours.

"Fuck...oh God.." you cry out slightly as he pressed your back against the bed, his hand on your waist holding onto the headboard. "Damn it.." he huffed slightly when you squeezed around him, his eyebrows knitting down.

He bottomed out and went all the way to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix. You cry out and turn your head to the side, clawing at a pillow. His balls slapped against your ass with each thrust, the sound mixed in with the already lewd noises of your moans and wet slapping.

You desperately slid your hand down to rub your neglected clit, which earned Sylus slapping your hand away. He pressed his thumb to your clit and rubbed it weakly, his gentle touch making you yearn for more.

"Sylus-"

"You can handle it."

He rubbed harder and your toes curled. Your head fell back and a silent scream left you as you came. Sylus groaned when you squirt on his cock, hips squirming like crazy. He grabbed your hips and forced you as close as possible when he came. His balls tightened and you felt his seed pump into you for the third time that night, making your stomach bulge ever so slightly.

A minute later he pulled out with a wet 'shulp', his cock limp and covered with cum and slick. Your eyes were barely open and your whole body trembled. Sylus picked you up and cradled you to his chest, walking over to the large couch in his room.

"You got the bed dirty. Not like I mind. But I need to fix it first." He sat you down on the couch and covered you up with his coat, smiling when you curled up under it. He kissed your head and put on a robe.

You fell asleep before he could even start.

--

Requests are open! :3

[neo-nomatrix]

EAT IT UP !

HOW THE JJK MEN EAT P*$$Y

Multiple x reader

-> GOJO, NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, SUKUNA, CHOSO

warnings ⚠️ smut… duh. pussy eating… duh. 69 in getos. talks of bondage. talks of choking (on dick) overalll smut idk

GOJO SATORU AKA “kid in a candy store”

On his tummy, feet in the air, humming. His legs are swaying back and forth but you’re way too busy to notice. He’s looking up at you with those unmistakable eyes watching you fall apart on his skilled tongue. His hand use your thighs as handles and makes out with your sloppy, cute cunt. He’s trying to tease you but the words come out as gurgled mumbles since his mouth is basically superglued to you.

You’re throbbing on his lips and he slurps it up like honey. Sometimes he dips his fingers in but usually sticks with his mouth. Fucks his tongue inside of you and he’ll probably start gagging because of how far he gets. He has to hug your thighs when you cum because of how squirmy you get. Nips at your clit when it’s all sensitive and giggles.

“You’re so fucking cute squirming”

“Oh wow… feels that good huh?”

“Is this how it feels when you gag on my cock?”

NANAMI KENTO AKA “use me like a chair”

Wants all your weight on his face or else he’s not happy. And no- it’s not an option. Maybe you’ll suffocate him, but who’s to say that’s not the goal? He cups his hands around your thighs and pulls you down on him, immediately getting to work. He’s so sensual and romantic about it. Slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. Definitely kisses your clit before starting anything.

Gathers a whole bunch of spit before and globs it onto you. There should literally be bubbles when you get off of him. Tries his best not to snake his hand down his pants so he can focus on you. As much as he loves you grinding down on his face he always stops you. This is for him to do all he work, he should be making you feel so good you don’t need to think about grinding down.

“Let me do all the work, just sit there.”

“I know i’m hard, sweetheart. I’ll get to that later.”

“Stop hovering, do i need to tie you up?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA “this is for him”

Even though it’s an activity meant to pleasure you, it’s for him. For him to melt away his worries into your sweet cunt. He uses it as a stress reliever, massaging your ass like a stress ball. will literally ask you why you were squirming so much, it disturbed his peace.

Never stops after you come. More flavor for him. Has you on your tummy, he’s spreading you apart and eating it. His hands are never still. Always running up and down your back or playing with the skin of your ass. Moves up to grope your tits and play with your sweet nipples.

“Put your face into the pillow and bite if it’s to much”

“You take my cock every day but my mouth is too much?” oh wait, that’s also too much

“Maybe i should leave some marks on this ass too.”

GETO SUGURU AKA “34 + 35”

SixtyNine KING. Can’t decide between being on bottom or top. On bottom he can get the pleasure of you sitting on his face. The only downside is your squirming with so much pleasure that you forget to suck his cock. He doesn’t care that much, eating you out is plenty of pleasure, but it would be nice. But he does hate it when your strokes get sloppy and they become borderline teasing.

On top he gets the added bonus of fucking your face. Thrusting in and out of your moaning mouth as much as he pleases. He loves hearing you choke while slurping you up. He just doesn’t like the blood going to his head while eating you out. He’s pretty simple when it comes to pussy eating. Loves to suck on your clit and use his fingers. Definitely makes you lick your own cum from his fingers. Finger fucks you until his hands are pruned.

“C’mon baby, at least stroke me baby. Look how hard he is for you.”

“I know it’s so much, huh?

“That’s fine, i’ll just throat fuck you with my cum soaked fingers,”

RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA “stop running”

Eats you out until you’re rolling around on the floor. And still keeps going. He hates it when you squirm, but also doesn’t do anything to stop it. Locks his arms around your thighs and presses a hand against your tummy. Sloppily eats your cunt with no technique. Spits soo much on it. The noises that come from your cunt and his mouth are insane. Dips his tongue real deep into your mess to get every drop.

Has you on the verge of passing out when you cum. And you guessed it, still won’t stop. He definitely pushes your thighs to your chest and wraps his arms around your whole body to keep you still. Loves it when you push on his head in desperation. It makes him so much harder.

“You keep fucking running and I’ll go for longer.”

“You’re only making it worse for yourself by squirming.”

“Fucking take it or I’ll make you.” yeah he definitely makes you

CHOSO KAMO AKA “kitten licks”

He eats you out like he’s scared. He’s so fascinated by your slippery pussy that he unintentionally goes super slow. Giving soft kisses to your clit and licking at your entrance like a popsicle. You have to tell him to go a little harder so it feels better. and once he does, no going back.

Starts to eat it like a starved man. He gets so mad he’s never done this before because he’s in heaven. Ruts his cock into the sheets because it feels so amazing. Moaning like a slut into your pussy. So much spit and his tongue is going wild on your pussy. He’s definitely making this apart of your routine.

“Oh my god it’s so wet baby.”

“Faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry…”

“It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?”

[crushmeeren]

ᝰ FIRST TIME FUCKING YOU WITHOUT A CONDOM .ᐟ

⋆ ft. itachi, neji, kakashi, sasuke ⋆

master list link

ᯓ★ dividers created by me.

༝ ᭝ ༝ itachi ༝ ᭝ ༝

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Itachi is not someone who’d be reckless with this decision.

Sure, his cheeks would turn scarlet when you ask. His head would whip to the side so fast his neck would be in danger of snapping, drawing one leg up as his entire body shifts towards you on the couch. He would slip two fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and tug, desperate for a cool breeze to tame the suffocating heat now creeping down his throat, flushing his chest.

His gaze would flicker across your face, hand resting on your thigh, squeezing once. He’d ask, “You — are you sure? You don’t want me to wear a condom anymore?” His voice would crack on the word condom and his blush would darken. Itachi would take a second to clear his throat, glaring at you without any real heat when you couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“I’m sure, Itachi.” You’d readjust your position, mirroring his, and look up at him through your lashes. “I just, I need to feel you. All of you,” you’d admit, playing with his fingers before lacing them together. The sweet heat building in your belly would remind you of the way it feels to drink a cup of hot chocolate.

Itachi’s lips would part, and you’d be certain you caught his dick jerking in his sweats. He’d make you wait until you’re on some other form of birth control. No surprise babies in this house.

Itachi would hold his breath when he pushed his latex free cock into you for the first time. His eyes would squeeze shut, a shaky exhale of your name spilling from his lips as he bottomed out and fucking came. You’d be able to feel the harsh twitching of his dick as he made you look nothing short of a cream filled donut. He’d be so embarrassed, ready to apologize, but he’d stop short at the fucked out look on your face.

The added slick sensation would turn you on like no other, cheeks hot to the touch as you begged him to keep going. He’d stay as hard as a rock, rolling you both until you’re perched in his lap. He’d draw his knees up, tangle his fingers with yours, and encourage you to “Ride me, sweetheart. C’mon, take what you need. I’ll let you use me until your pretty little pussy is sore.”

Itachi doesn’t have to tell you twice.

༝ ᭝ ༝ neji ༝ ᭝ ༝

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Neji loves having sex with you, but he’d be a bit paranoid.

Neji’s uptight. From the outside, you’d never be able to tell how pussy drunk he gets. He’s a whiny, breathy mess any time his cock’s inside you.

However, he’d also be hyper aware he could get you pregnant if he’s not careful. He wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of having a baby with you, but he wouldn’t be ready for quite some time. He’d wear a condom, no matter how bad he wants your pussy to squeeze him raw. You’d have multiple conversations about it, convincing him to try just putting the tip in.

He’d be….hooked, to say the least. It’d be by sheer force of will that he doesn’t shove his entire cock in your pussy that first time. But, it’d also be the very next time Neji swears “just the tip”, when things spiral.

The warm ache in Neji’s belly would overshadow his concerns. He’d end up knocking your thighs further apart with his knees, bending forward and planting his elbows on either side of your head, leaving just a few centimeters between you. He’d whine, “Baby, I can’t handle this temptation any longer. Please, can I feel your pussy?”

“Fuck, put it in Neji. As long as you pull out it’ll be fine, I promise.” You’d lift your hips to take more of him before he could regret it, and Neji would oblige. Your pussy would hug his cock better than in his dreams, and Neji’s low, broken moan would light your blood on fire.

Neji would straighten up to sit on his knees, grip one of your ankles and haul your leg over his shoulder, allowing the other leg to hang loosely at his hip. He’d bend you in half to deepen the angle, hands resting by your shoulders. Just to tease you both, he’d pull out halfway and push back in at an agonizing pace.

Neji would fuck you within an inch of your life, long hair becoming a curtain that cuts you off from the world. Your nails would scratch angry pink lines down his chest, and his cock would start to throb as he toed the line of release. You’d smack his chest, reminding him with a desperate plea, “Don’t cum inside me! Neji, Neji, baby — you gotta pull out!”

He’d slip his cock free at the last second, letting your body flop to the bed as he stroked his cock. With three quick pumps he’d cum all over your belly.

Safe to say, this would be Neji’s new favorite way to have sex.

༝ ᭝ ༝ sasuke ༝ ᭝ ༝

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Unlike his brother, Sasuke is impulsive.

He couldn’t deny the thought would cross his mind every now and then, playing with the idea of fucking you raw and seeing his sticky, white cum cover his cock and spill from your pussy.

Usually when he got the urge he’d jerk himself off. Cool fingers would wrap around his warm cock, shivers running down his spine as he stroked himself slowly. He’d cum in a heartbeat.

It would dull the ache of his desire for a while. Hell, he definitely wouldn’t want to have a baby any time in the near future. But soon enough it’d start to eat at him again. His stomach would clench tight every time you’d have sex, nasty dreams forcing him to wake up hard. That’s why, when you beg him to take the condom off, it’s take zero effort to convince him.

Your face would be buried in your pillow, ass in the air, and one hand would fist the sheets. The other would twist behind to smack against Sasuke’s lean lower belly, pushing at him to wait. He’d be too focused, hands pressing your lower back into a harsh arch, sweat trailing down his temple, over his jaw, dripping onto your back.

“Sasuke,” you’d moan, asking for his attention. “Wait, Sasuke — ah fuck!” You’d dig your nails into his belly until he sucked in a sharp breath. “Take the condom off, please!”

His hips would still, pressed flush to your ass. “What?” He’d ask, already be pulling out. “You want me to fuck you raw?” He’d tease. “So spoiled, princess.”

You’d roll onto your back, cheeks heated, chest heaving. “Just fucking take it off,” you’d demand, reaching to grasp the slippery latex and slide it free. Sasuke would smirk, eyes glued to his dick as it bobs once the condom pops off.

Sasuke’s jaw would go slack once you stroked his cock, the skin soft and slick from leftover lube. He’d fucking whimper, a noise he’d never made before, when he pushes all the way in. Sasuke’s thoughts wouldn’t be coherent after that. He’d put your knees to your ears and fuck you until he’s cum twice and you’re squirting onto his pelvis.

He would panic the next day, going dizzy with relief when you inform him you started getting birth control shots.

༝ ᭝ ༝ kakashi ༝ ᭝ ༝

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Kakashi would be asking you if he could hit it raw.

For your entire relationship, Kakashi would have it known that he’s got a fantasy about giving you a “cream pie”, for lack of a better word. He’d never push you to do something you’re uncomfortable with, no, he’d be more than happy to even role play the act.

There’s no denying that Kakashi would truly want to get you pregnant. He’d love to see your belly round with his baby, but he’d be patient and wait for you to give him the go ahead. However, Kakashi has a loud mouth, and he’d voice his desires at least every other time you have sex.

In the end, the idea would get in your head and become more than appealing to you. When you gave in, it’d be when Kakashi least expected it. It’d be a night when his back is propped up by a couple pillows near your headboard, calloused hands gripping your ass and guiding the slow roll of your hips. Kakashi would be drooling about how well you ride his cock.

Your hands would brace themselves on his pecs, nails digging into his skin, and Kakashi wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. No surprise there. “Babygirl,” he’d moan, eyes rolling towards the ceiling when your pussy clenches tight. “Look so pretty when you ride me, m’gonna cum so hard. You’ll let me knock you up, yeah? Wanna see you swollen with my baby so bad.”

You’d slap your hand over his mouth to stop the stream of filthy words, cheeks blistering. “Kakashi,” you’d say through your teeth, voice pitching higher. “Take off the condom.”

Kakashi’s eyebrows would shoot to his hairline, jaw dropping open as the words he’d been waiting forever to hear sunk in. There’s no way in hell you’d have to repeat yourself. He’d shove you off his lap and onto your back, settling between your spread thighs as he all but ripped off the condom. He’d stroke his cock a couple times before readjusting his weight, taking his time to slide his bare cock back inside you.

Kakashi would whine in back of his throat, pushing your thighs apart until your muscles started to protest. “Kakashi!” You’d gasp, pushing up to your elbows, fisting the sheets as he railed the shit out of you.

“Sorry, can’t — fuck, can’t help myself,” he’d pant, not sounding sorry at all. You’d catch a glimpse of Kakashi’s sharingan whirling and then he’d be cumming before you realized he’s close.

He wouldn’t stop with one round. He’d wring pleasure out of you until your legs turned to jelly. He’d cum again after that, making such a mess that you’d both end up in the shower.