#maybe some c*ckwarming too

[cyber333angel]

this with jj is a need

[motherraid]

Rewards

((Sebek x Reader))

I'd JUST realized that I did not post this the way I intended to.... After a month of it just sitting in the void...

Kind of a part 2 to this?

(Sebek x Afab!Reader // Embarrassing ways of describing Afab!Reader parts >- >;;; // C*ckwarming // Kinda vanilla sex tbh // Overstimulation,, just a tad bit // Studying // But not actually studying // Basically just a more fleshed out version of the previous ask // Rambles shall hereby never be proofread no matter how desperately they need to be I am MUCH too lazy)

This was NOT the way to study. At least, this wasn't what you had thought you'd be doing when sweet innocent Sebek told Lilia that you both would be in his room "studying."

After witnessing you acting a fool with those irritating, skittle haired friends of yours DURING CLASS, he'd concluded that you need to work on your obedience and focus on your lessons. So, he'd decided to help you the only way your tiny, primitive, human brain could understand.

You're not even allowed to look at him. Only after you finish your work will you finally be "rewarded," and you can't cheat your way out of this. Every time you try to bounce even slightly, grind against him, or moan into his ear, he'll pull out of you and leave you clenching air, dryly stating that maybe you're beyond helping and the "session" should end here. Which leads you to beg him for another chance. This continues until you straighten up, pick up your pencil, and focus on your homework placed in front of you. He won't break. No reward for no work.

You could practically feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. In normal circumstances, this would be uncomfortable. Stressful, even. However, it's safe to say his behavior in this particular situation is more than understandable. After all, you're the one sat comfortably in his warm lap, with his even warmer dick nestled deep inside of you.

He starts off with his chest against your back, voice stern and commanding. When he'd point to the equations on your worksheet, criticizing every error you would make, his voice would rumble in his throat and bob his Adam's apple against your shoulder.

If the fact that he was buried deep into your pretty cunt wasn't enough to melt you alive at that point, then the close proximity would. From your thighs squished tight against his, to your back, where your heart would hammer against his sternum and encourage his to pound in tandem, and especially the warmth of your back, he seemed to like the state he'd put you in. He'd be reminded of it every time you'd clench around his cock. Whether on purpose or accident, both would earn you a smack on the thigh. He'd hiss a sharp reprimand through clenched teeth and try his best to disguise his shaky, pleasured sigh as a huff of aggravation.

Then, his resolve seemed impeccable. He was so laser focused onto the paper and almost never entertained your incessant whining. You didn't even dare try to plead with him, or else you'd be scolded, and he'd drag out your "study session" even longer.

But now, half an hour later, he didn't seem as strict as before. Whether his leniency is because he's decided to have some mercy on you, or because he's finding it rather hard to keep himself together, he leans back in the chair and tells you to finish the last three problems on your own since you're doing so well. And even now, you're still not allowed to look back at him. Every time you'd try, he'd grab your chin and pull your gaze back to your paper. Even a bit of your attention would make the tendon on the underside of his cock flex, and you can feel that bulge shift deep in your belly. He has to keep himself from snapping somehow.

You'd swear he was using magic on you in some way because every twitch in his muscles would light up your nerves like sparks. A shiver shakes a small whimper from your lips, and a deep grunt from his as he rolls his head against the back of the chair. His hands, instead of being wrapped around your waist, pointing out flaws and errors on your paper, or delivering a sharp smack to your thigh, were gripping the seat for dear life.

He may be a bit irrational, but he was damn sure smart enough to know that if his hands find their way to your body again, he'd crush you tight to his chest and stand up so he could properly bend you over the desk and satisfy his aching cock. But he couldn't. Not until you were finished. He can't reward you before you've earned it. Then you'd never learn, and you would never take him seriously (and what a great sentiment! Strange way of acting on it, but great sentiment nonetheless ig).

At this point, he could excuse your shifting to get more comfortable and even your occasional whining, mostly because it's been so long, and you probably feel the exact same amount of agony he must be feeling. But when you buck your hips or grind your ass into his lap to relieve some of the pressure in your core, then you've gone too far.

His legs tense underneath you, and just when you think he might break and finally let go of this silly idea, another loud smack strikes your thigh, and red skin is made redder like a toddler getting spanked.

"Don't. Test. Me." He hisses.

You don't need to look back at him to know he's scowling at you. His eyes glare daggers at the back of your head as you lock in to finish your last question. He hears your hand scribbling against the desk, damn near burning holes in the paper and, to be honest, he preens a little knowing that your revived dedication for studying is a product of his "teaching". But was this really so hard to do in the first place? Maybe you two could have actually been having fun instead of being stuck in a chair for an hour.

You rejoice internally when you can finally tap him and croak out, "Finished."

Sebek pulls himself back upward and rests his head on your shoulder once more, his hand cozying against your thigh and gently rubbing against your sore skin (a silent apology). He nods and hums in approval, and you can feel a mix of pride and suspense blooming in your heart. As his eyes scan over the last question at an achingly slow pace, you feel tears welling in your eyes when he slides his hand inside your thigh upwards towards your crotch. Finally, some relief....

SMACK!

"Wrong," Sebek sighs, "Didn't I tell you before that you have to pay attention to your negative numbers? You threw off your whole equation."

He grabs your pencil and erases your incorrect attempt and demands you try again. He ignores your sobs, both from that painful slap and the fact that, at this point, it's been a whole hour and you haven't cum ONCE. It stings deep in his chest to hear you so upset, but you can't be rewarded yet. You're so close. Sebek can't break because this is genuinely all for you. He just wants to help you become the best student you can be. He knows you can achieve it, so if he has to sit here all day with you, then he will. Because he loves you that much.

There is no forbearance for your second attempt, either. Your marks are promptly erased, not even a minute after he looks it over. When he tsks and shakes his head, you feel like you're dying. He does sigh and gently wipe the tears from your eyes, but your cunt is sobbing as well, drenching his aching cock that you still swallow entirely. You soak the green, well trimmed hair at his base, and it dribbles down his balls, painful and all too ready to burst.

Sebek rests against the chair once more to keep you from leaning back into him. This prevents him from becoming too tempted to say "fuck it" to his plan and all his hard work and take you immediately. Now he gives you encouraging words, mumbling soft "I love you's", under his breath and, "Doing.. So well..."

"Keep going.."

"So close..."

The third time Sebek leans over and checks your work, he nods and slams his hands onto the table so hard your pencil goes flying. He shoots up from his chair, causing you to fall forward onto the black wood. You can't push yourself back up because a hand clamps down on the back of your neck and forces your head to rest against your worksheet. The slow drag of his cock as it slides out to the tip is the only warning he gives you before he immediately slams back into you. The force of his hips causes the table to jut out under your weight, and before it can even fully bounce back to normal he's already drilling his cock deep into you, sending the table flying forwards again, and again, and again. Sebek throws his head back and let's out a deep guttral moan as if he'd been waiting his entire life to finally stuff your pretty cunt.

His pace is relentless, and neither of you lasts longer than a few minutes. All the waiting and no relief built pressure deep inside the both of you that needed to be out. He folds over you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back into his chest as he babbles on and on.

"Your reward..." He groans deep into your ear as he smushes a sloppy kiss against your lobe. "Do you like it? You get the privilege of carrying our hatchlings. Enjoy it, love."

That's your breaking point. You crumple in his hold, and his arms crushing your body into his as he fucks into you is the only thing currently keeping you from slipping off the table. Lord knows your now weak knees aren't helping any. Drool drags across your chin and smears directly against your worksheet. He went on and on, praising your patience and resolve, and telling you how happy he is to have a partner like you, but you'd barely registered anything he'd said after calling you "love."

You both fail to realize that, one, you might be a tad bit too loud for his dormmates and, two, now Lilia might be more than aware than ever that you two aren't actually "studying". Especially when you scream and cum hard on his cock, gripping the table edge for dear life as your orgasm rips through your body.

You're barely able to move, so you allow Sebek to use you like a fleshlight until he finishes himself (not long after you). His hips stutter and jerk frantically at first before he shoots, hot and deep into your core. Then, his instincts spurs him further; gentle, shallow grinding against your ass that leaves him shuddering.

Tears prick his eyes as he collapses on top of you, squishing your drool stained face against your currently damp and drool covered paper. The rest of his cum comes in spurts, and his hips tremble against your ass as he pushes himself as far as he can possibly reach into your pussy (which, given his size, means he's pretty cramped in there).

Once he pulls out, it takes a while for him to finally relax into your body. He breathes in huffs while one hand lightly rubs circles on your hip, and the other carefully stuffs his cum back inside of you. As much as he can manage while not looking, anyway. It's a bit overstimulating with him basically fingering you lazily after you just came, but you're too tired to do anything about it.

And after some time has passed, when he finally lifts his head to see your zoned out and thoroughly pleased expression, he smiles to himself.

See? You can focus on your work. You just need a little encouragement and a nice reward.

This blog revolves around Dead dove content.

If you're not okay with seeing that, this is fine! I just don't wanna hear about it, mkay?♡ Some people come here for this type of content, so you see something you don't like, just keep scrolling, dude. And if there's absolutely nothing dead dove about the current post, then don't tread my Tumblr and get all shocked when you see nasty stuff. Okay? Alright, thanks. :)

[bwoahtastic]

Omega Seb feeling all out of sorts - not knowing or being able to communicate it - so he goes around being a menace. Nipping at his alphas testily, telling them no when they ask him for very reasonable things and then running off (hoping they'll chase). He knows he's spiraling straight for a spanking or some other type of corrective behavior but can only keep bratting.

Maybe Mark just reaches the end of his rope and growls (not dangerously but a warning) and pulls Seb into his lap so he's straddling Mark's lap (maybe some c*ckwarming? Making Seb desperate but not giving him what he wants yet?). Maybe Mark scruffs Seb when he tries to squirm or get off his lap and holds him there and spanks him in front of the others until he finally cries his energy out and settles down, suckling bruises into Mark's neck and finally letting his alpha(s) control him and the pace.

Oh pls!

Seb really needing his Alphas to be firm with him sometimes, but him in his spot so he can relax and give in, relaxing finally as he knows they will take care of him!

When he gets in one of his moods, there is nothing stopping him. He will nip and growl, say no to the smallest request to challenge the others, mess up or steal nest, he I'd just a brat! (100% nico will growl at him if Seb dares to approach with this glint in his eyes. Nico is very protective of his perfect nests thank you very much!)

Mark having had enough qnd he pulls Seb onto his lap, growling and fitting his teeth over Seb's neck to get him to sit still, pressing Seb down on his lap and making Seb look him in the eye after he is done leaving a mark. Seb still wiggles and protests so Mark takes it a step further, Seb was wearing a lil skirt and no panties anyways so it's easy enough to sink into him, not fuckkng him like Seb wants but just leaving him to warm his cock, warm and soft. When Seb still won't settle, he flips the skirt up and spanks him for everyone to see until Seb finally sinks against him, crying softly to let the stress out and Mark soothes him, stroking his hair and murmuring sweet nothings as Seb sniffles and mouths at Mark's neck a little. Mark let's him wiggle a bit now , fuck himself on Mark's cock enough so the Alpha can knot him and Seb finally purrs again.

(Michael seeing and gently tugs on Seb's hair a little to tilt his head, leaving a bruise on Sebs neck too and Seb just sighs happily!)

[heartdayz]

knows me crazy/soothes me daily

MINORS DNI!!!! 18+ ADULTS ONLY 

summary: After a fight, Peter takes you to the rooftop and tends to your wounds. 

pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

content: nsfw, superhero!reader, praise, c*ckwarming, sub!peter, p in v, general nastiness???? sorry in advance 

authors note: im sorry i feel like i don’t know how to write normal smut. anyways hope u enjoyed lol

“One of us is gonna have to change.”

You squint at him through the carbon fiber of your mask, looking down to the red spandex that covers your arms. It’s hot out here, especially so with the tight fabric, so you pull your mask off to breathe heavily into the night air. Peter’s staring at you, you can tell despite his mask, and it isn’t long before he’s taking his off, too.

Underneath, his face is lightly scathed; a bruise that caresses his jawline and a cut that sharpens his nose, each one that you press a kiss to. Up here, it feels like you’re the only two people in the world, and you are – there’s nobody to see you, the tallest building in this part of the city. You and Peter and his scratched face and yours that’s red and nearly raw, tender still.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his thumb ghosting over the sight of you; his favorite thing that’s been marred at the hands of someone trying to kill him. “You need to stop following me.”

At one point, Peter got the idea that maybe you should have your own pair of webshooters to help you in fights — he had to save you from falling after you nearly passed out upon using them for the first time. He hadn’t gathered that without spidersenses, the vertigo might be overwhelming, and it was; you opted to stick to your own powers after that. It just meant you had an excuse for him to swing you places.

But now, you look down at your own suit and shrug your shoulders, “I’m used to it. S’okay.”

You try and offer him a smile — he’s hurt too, probably worse than you are. But that’s the way it always is, you taking care of him after fights, and it’s nice to see him with soft eyes and so much love to spread between the two of you. That’s just the way Peter always was. So much love inside of him.

And you can’t lie and say you’re okay, because it kind of feels like every breath is caught on broken glass, and your ears are still ringing from the firing of the guns. Peter hadn’t mentioned anything about those, not that he usually does, it would just have been nice to know. But still, if you could help him in a fight, even if your powers weren’t as refined as his, you would do it a thousand times over.

This always made it worth it.

He grabs you by the face, fingers pinching your cheeks in, and you wince greatly — the bruises there were still tender and he only made them enflame. Peter whispers an apology before moving his hand to somewhere that’s not wounded, finding his hand to rest at the base of your neck, two fingers controlling the movement of your jaw, and he smirks down at you. From where you were standing, he’s laid you gently on the smoothed concrete of the rooftop, head pressed against your masks that are balled up under your head to make a pillow.

“Ow,” you say, your lips pressed against his. He smirks into you, and you can tell he’s got the urge to press in a little bit harder. But he doesn’t — instead, Peter lets his hips fall into yours a little bit harder, shamelessly runting against you in the darkness.

You can feel his urgency and smirk to yourself, knowing that in this state he would do anything — so you push up and take off your suit quickly, unzipping his down the front and pulling him out.

With some stage of cockiness, you pin him to the ground, kissing him hotly. He smiles into you and you let your knees brush the hard ground on either side of him before settling, kneeling above him like a vulture, your tongue swiping along his jawline.

Peter, for a second, tries to flip you over, but fails as you grasp his wrist and place it gently next to his head, glare knowing. He only makes a small noise when you line yourself up, pressing against him so lightly.

When you feel him slip inside of you, the groan leaves his mouth in time with your strangled gasp — you feel so bare like this, mostly naked atop him, taking him in so freely. You try to remind yourself that nobody can see you here but it feels like all of New York is watching you fuck Spider-Man.

What a gift for saving the city.

His eyes, deep brown, stare back at you like saucers in the lights. Peter knows how much control he has over you at any given point, so you almost miss mark of the mission, and start to move your hips slowly. With a shake of your head, though, you regain your thoughts and sink completely; flush together, completely sheathed.

Peter, in natural fashion, can never keep quiet in times like these. Within a second he’s cooing at you, “oh my god, baby, you’re so good. Look at you.”

And you do — you look down, smiling at the spot where you rest on him, his hip bones poking out into his skin, pulled taut where he’s thinnest. Peter, a lengthy thing, is all tightness and pulled over; you are soft, something he loves, and he gathers a piece of your ass in his hand as he tries to move you, but you don’t budge.

“What are you doing, baby,” he says, and you feel him twitch inside of you. It feels so nice, sitting right here, and you almost never want to get off.

You smile at him, “just sitting here.”

He responds by trying to move his hips, to jut into you, but you dig your hands into where his bones poke out and push him into the concrete. With deftness, you use your powers to bind him to the floor, small green tendrils wrapping his wrists.

“I didn’t tell you to move, pretty boy,” you muse, watching him squirm on the new sensation of something holding him down. And he is pretty, so much so that you almost feel bad teasing him. Almost. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Peter leans into the touch that follows, the caressing of his cheek, red with want and slight embarrassment. He’s still hard inside of you, and you can feel the warmth it gives; Peter, always hot and you, always cold.

Through pink lips he begs, “please.”

You smile at him, lifting up ever so slightly, and he hums at the movement, sighing so melodically into the mostly silent air. It seems as if New York has gone quiet. “Why are you begging, honey? You know I always make you feel good.”

“You’re being mean,” he says, tears welling up in his eyes. You slide a hand over his chest, leaning over and you feel him move inside of you, as you lean down to bite his neck. He moves his head, giving you the plane of his collarbone to work with, hoping that a reward will come for being so cooperative in the process. With a smile, you put a thumb over his lips and watch as he takes it in, soaks it, and returns it back to you hotly.

“So good,” you reprise.

And with that, you raise off him, taking him right in again immediately, and Peter jerks at the contact, moaning dirtily with his eyes pointed to the sky. With each stroke he comes apart even more, barely being able to take it, and you release his hands from the confines so that he can grab your waist and play with your hair as you fuck him so graciously.

“I’m about to come, baby,” you hear him say, his lips pressed against your chest. But you stay atop him, trying even harder, and you feel the warmness spread as he does, right inside of you.

Peter’s breathing so heavily, his forehead covered in sweat, and watches as you raise off of him, himself still dripping out of you. His mouth is hung open in a mixture of shock and arousal still, and you reach down to get some with your fingers, pressing it to your lips. “Are you gonna clean up your mess, my pretty boy?”

And you know in moments like these that you’ll love Peter forever, in the way he tenderly presses you into the concrete floor and wordlessly licks everything off of you, even if the mess is one you knowingly made. It’s even more clear when he finally spreads you open, treats you so nicely and never teases, only tries so hard to get you there as fast as possible, even when your fingernails dig into his scalp and push him in when he can’t go any further.

When you finally fall apart, you do so in anyway but gracefully, full of powerful moans and obscenities that border on blasphemy. And afterwards he sits there, between your slick legs, tending to a cut wound you hadn’t seen earlier, the mess still there on top of you and glistening. Afterwards, he returns once more, and soulfully does it again, this time with his fingers as he stares into your eyes, making you whisper sweet nothings that mean everything into the air.

When you dress again, he zips up the back of your suit with nimble fingers and you do so with his. You’re about to jump from the building and scale your way down when you realize you don’t have your mask, and frown when he holds them both up, damp with sweat. You laugh, crinkling your nose, and you bury your head into Peter’s chest as he swings you both through the city.

[duskholland]

Warm | Tom Holland Smut

warnings ↠ nsfw, 18+ ! this is just some very loving c*ckwarming with sleepy boyfriend tom, ft unprotected sex and oral (fem receiving)

word count ↠ a wholesome 3k

a/n ↠ got inspired by the ig live yesterday and whipped up a lil something to satisfy the devil in me. let me know what you think!

The material of Tom’s hoodie is soft against your cheek, and as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, it feels as though the weight of the world is rolling from your shoulders. His hands are on your waist, tucked beneath the hem of your t-shirt and resting gently over the curves of your hips. As you hum against his shoulder, you feel him shift his fingers, tracing delicate, circular patterns over your skin. 

“Your hoodie is so soft,” you mumble against him, punctuating the words with a few soft kisses to the base of his neck. Tom squeezes your sides, bringing his lips to the top of your head where he leaves a lingering kiss to your hairline. “Wish we could stay like this forever.”

One of his hands moves away from your waist, drifting up to cup the back of your head. As Tom’s nimble fingers rest over your hair, he uses his other arm to pull you closer. It’s a lazy Sunday morning, both of you tangled up in sweats and comfy clothes, and the feeling of his warm body pressed against yours makes you sigh contentedly. 

“We can stay like this all day?” Tom offers. He slowly strokes over the back of your head, the gesture full of a gentle tenderness you’d missed. He’s been so busy recently, with filming and press engagements, that it’s been a while since you’ve had time to exist like this. Two people, curled up together, wrapped up in dizzying love. “Missed you so much this week, darling.”

You smile against his neck and finally pull back so you can look at him properly. You’re resting over Tom’s thighs, straddling his green sweats comfortably, and your position gives you the perfect opportunity to get a lovely, long look at your boyfriend’s face. With his pink hood drawn up around his head, you can make out a few strands of his brown hair, long and a little shiny, and you find your fingers drawn towards them. You reach up, smiling at his tut of disapproval as you gently knock the hood down, revealing his bed of messy, chestnut curls.

“Missed you too,” you finally reply, carding a hand through his hair. With your other fingers, you reach out to cup his cheek, grinning as he presses his face into your palm. Tom’s got his eyes wide and flooded with gentle love, and it makes you melt. This man has you wrapped around his little finger. “Missed a lot of things about you, actually.”

“Yeah?” Tom’s lips quirk into a lazy smirk as he draws you a little nearer. He smells faintly of cologne. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know…” As you muse, you let your index finger wander down the bridge of his nose, tracing over the light freckles. “Missed hearing your lovely voice. It always sounds so raspy in the morning like this.” You lean in to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “And I missed your hugs. God, Tom, you give the best hugs.” As if to prove your point, Tom tightens his grip around you. “Missed your lips, too.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” He’s got that cheeky glint in his eyes, and you nod your head immediately. “I think they missed you too, love. Why don’t you pay them a visit?”

The snort that leaves your mouth is a loud burst of twisted sound, but it makes Tom’s smile grow wider. You wind both arms around his neck and shuffle closer, finally bridging the distance and nuzzling your mouth against his. 

Kissing Tom has to be one of your favourite things ever. The way your lips meld together, dancing in sync as he presses against you with eager force always makes your heart race, no matter how long you’ve been together. His lips are warm and gentle, and as they meet with yours in a lazy exploration of mutual enjoyment, you find yourself melting against him. His hands are back on your hips, and they roam the expanse of your naked back as his tongue flicks into your mouth, causing you to groan softly. When he drags his fingers up and discovers your lack of bra, he’s quick to shift his palms around to the front of your body, holding the curves of your breasts in each hand.

“I bloody love you,” he murmurs, speaking against your lips. The pads of his thumbs brush over your nipples and you gasp into his mouth, careening further into his touch. “You’re the most beautiful woman on the planet, lovie.” 

You kiss him with a little more intensity, your heart fluttering in response to his sweet, sweet sentiment. It’s early - the both of you had only woken up a half-hour ago - so Tom’s voice is strained and raspy. The sound of his husky tones brings a thrill of excitement to the heat between your legs. 

As his tongue explores your mouth and your fingers tangle in his hair, you become aware of a building pressure pushing up against your sweats. You start to grind down against him, enjoying both the friction it provides to your clit and also the way the movement draws deep, desperate whines from Tom. 

“You wanna know a secret?” You ask him, pulling away to pant in his ear. When Tom hums, you kiss his earlobe. “Think I might’ve missed your cock, too.”

His chuckle rumbles into the air. “Is that so?” Tom’s hands slip away from your chest, and they anchor down your hips. You hum as he guides you, pushing you further against his crotch as your centres meet. You can feel the outline of his length straining up against you, and the sensation makes you grin. “I’ve missed being inside your tight little pussy.” He leaves a kiss just behind your ear, right over a patch of sensitive skin. “Maybe we should do something about that?”

You almost whine as you nod, eagerly reaching down to release the drawstrings of his sweats. In return, Tom pulls free your own, and there’s a moment of shuffling around as you sit up and carefully wriggle out of both your trousers and your panties, Tom bundling them up and folding them into a neat pile beside him. Once you’re settled, you reach beneath the waistband of Tom’s sweats and pull his full member free, all whilst his hot lips trail up and down the column of your neck. 

There’s no burning desperation to your movements as you slowly work one another up. Rather, it’s gentle. Soft caresses, tender lips, whispered words of praise. You’re kissing him as you slowly slide your hand up and down his shaft, and he’s swallowing your moans with his tongue when two of his fingers slip into your slick pussy and work you open. It’s loving and familiar as he crooks his fingertips and nudges up against your g-spot, stimulating your passage until you’re bucking down against him, your movements distracted as your cunt drips for him.

“Need you inside me,” you moan out, a slight pull to your voice. You whimper as Tom’s hot fingers slip out from inside you, and then gasp when he uses his wet fingertips to rub over your clit. The bud pulses and you almost lose it, but a panging in your cunt reminds you of your overwhelming desire to have him inside you. “Tom,” you whine, skimming your thumb over his weepy tip, “Stop teasing.”

Tom growls into your ear, but he reluctantly moves his fingers away from you. He meets your eyes as he very purposefully brings his hand to his mouth and makes a show of licking his digits clean, moaning softly as he does it. 

“Delicious,” he decides. When you throw him a light scowl, he grabs you by the hips and brings you nearer. “Now,” he says, dropping his voice. His hand joins yours on his cock, and together you guide his head through your slit. You let Tom do the hard work, whimpering quietly as he lines his tip with your entrance. “How about we take care of this little problem, eh?”

Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you slowly, slowly lower yourself over him, tossing your head back as you adjust to the stretch. Tom’s lips move over your neck, sucking a soft hickey to your skin, anchoring you down. The sensation of his member settling deep inside you after so long makes you grab fistfuls of his hoodie, your knuckles tightening around it as you gasp softly.

“Fuck,” you murmur, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You’re fully seated now, and you can feel every ridge and line of his cock pushed up against your walls, as if in high definition. Everything is amplified, and the longer you sit there wrapped up in his arms and with his lips now dusting over your temple, the closer to Tom you feel. “I love you,” you whimper, voice breathless.

Tom runs his hands over your back, soothing you with large circles of his palms. “Love you too, darling,” he mumbles. He shifts a little on the sofa, and you moan as the head of his cock brushes deeper. “Feel so warm ‘n snug around me.”

You feel yourself clench at his words, and make a very conscious decision to loosen up. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you pull yourself away from the crook of Tom’s neck, pouting a little as the soft fabric of his hoodie leaves your face.

“Do you want to stay like this for a little bit?” You ask, eyes skimming his beautiful face. Your heart fills with appreciation for the man as you pick up all the small details that make him so attractive to you: the worn curves of his nose, the splattering of sun-kissed freckles over his cheeks, the ruffled hairs of his eyebrow. Your thumb absently moves up to his eyebrow and you draw your touch across it, feeling the soft hairs with your finger and sighing as you admire him. 

“How long?”

You crane your neck back, glancing briefly at the paused TV. “‘Til the end of the show? Should be about ten minutes.” You move your hand into his hair, feeling the silky strands fall past your fingers. “Just wanna feel close to you.”

Tom presses his lips to the tip of your nose, drawing a loose giggle from you. “Alright,” he agrees. He drops his voice as he shifts his mouth back to your ear, hot breath flushing over your neck as he adds, quieter, “I’m going to wreck you afterwards, though.”

A shiver passes through you, and your hum mixes with the sounds of the TV as Tom immediately unpauses the programme. You can’t see the screen from where you’re sitting, but you turn down Tom’s offer to reposition. The show is the last thing on your mind, and you’re glad you’re not distracted by it. 

For you, there’s nothing more fulfilling than hiding your face into your boyfriend’s shoulder and feeling him everywhere. Hands on your sides, caressing you and drawing you closer. His lips softly passing over the top of your head. His length, plugging you up to the hilt. Each time one of you shifts, you release a quiet whimper as arcs of pleasure roll up your spine, and when you clench in response, Tom grunts. There’s something so easily private about it: no end goal but just to enjoy one another, and spend this quiet moment holed up in each other’s arms. 

You’ve never felt this loved before, and it brings a lump to your throat.

“You okay?” Tom asks, shifting a hand to hold the back of your head. You hum, tilting your face to the side so you can kiss the point behind his ear.

“Yeah. Just really love you.”

His eyes flicker down to meet yours, flooding with concern when he notes the tears spread thinly over your eyes. “You’re so precious,” he lilts, his accent twanging prominently. He brings you nearer, kissing your forehead in several spots. “I’m going to marry you one day.”

You kiss him, letting your hand travel up to rest against his cheek. “Good,” you whisper against him. There’s a dizzying moment where you just look at him, his eyes mirroring yours, flooded deep with gratitude that rocks you to your bones. You feel safe wrapped up in his arms, and as the music for the credits drifts through the air, you find yourself exhaling. “Show’s over.”

“Lay down for me, love.” 

You whimper when you feel his length slide from you, your cunt feeling cold and empty without him, but he kisses at your pout until it fades away. Tom follows you down onto the couch cushions, caging you in with an arm either side your head. After a moment, you feel his cock sliding through your slit again, pressing up against your clit in a way that makes you moan. 

“I can taste myself on your tongue,” you admit, pulling away from a deep kiss with a perplexed expression on your face. 

“Fucking lovely, isn’t it?” Tom gains a rather mischievous look on his face. “Actually…” 

He pulls away before you can grab him to stay, and Tom slips down between your legs with a cheeky smirk on his lips. 

“Tom,” you whine, scrunching your nose. “I want you.”

“In a minute.” He presses your knees apart and leaves a soft kiss to the inside of one of your thighs. “Patience, my darling girl.”

You try your best to look unimpressed, but it’s very difficult to maintain the rouse as he draws his tongue through your slit. You reach down to grip at his hair, pulling him closer as he trails his mouth all over you. He moans straight against your sopping folds, teasing your clit with his tongue as he slides two fingers back into you, exploring your wet heat eagerly.

“Tom,” you cry out, your back arching off the sofa. His free hand immediately goes to your side, pushing you back down and keeping you in place as his mouth explores you. Noises of your wet arousal fill the air as he sucks over your clit, teasing you, edging you until you’re whimpering. “C’mon, Tom, don’t wanna cum like this. Need to be full of you.”

When he pulls back, Tom runs the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the shine of your slick and his spit combined. He cracks a smile when he takes in the fucked-out expression on your face, pulling up until he’s hovering above you once more. One of his hands caresses your leg before loosely opening it up, and the other rests over your hair near your head. He kisses you softly.

“Are you ready?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you whimper, pressing down against him to prove your point. Your voice twists into a gasp as Tom slips into you, the movement easy and slick. Your fingers grip at the back of his hoodie as he rocks against you, your cunt squeezing around him as you take him wholly. “Shit.”

Tom nips at your necks, strands of his hair rubbing up against your hot skin. “So fucking perfect,” he murmurs. He pulls out before fucking back into you with a deep, slow thrust. “Fuck, you’re such an angel.” He leaves another kiss to your neck as he gradually quickens his pace. “My angel, aren’t you?”

You pull him back up, meeting his mouth in response. As you kiss him, his hand on your thigh shifts up and intertwines with one of yours, your fingers tangling as the rest of your bodies do, too. You’re grateful for the contact - keeping you anchored together like an emotional tether, a constant reminder of your love. 

Everything about the moment feels so intimate, his pace slow but still fulfilling. Each time Tom thrusts his hips to meet yours, you feel him in you deep, nudging against those spots only he could reach. Each rut presses you one step closer to heaven, and your praises come out garbled, dissolving into his mouth as his lips caress you, tender and warm. 

Tom pulls away after minutes of deep kissing to stare at you, brown eyes full of warmth. “I’m so lucky,” he stammers out, voice strained. You widen your leg, granting him easier access, and both of you groan as the position lets him in deeper. You can feel that telltale warmth building in the pit of your stomach. “Love of my life, you are. You and your- fuck, your perfect little pussy.” His cheeks are red as he kisses your jaw. “Can’t wait to fuck you for the rest of my life, love.”

His words ignite something inside you that goes much deeper than superficial pleasure, and you find yourself clinging to him, gripping his hand with renewed strength as your other twists down between your bodies. Your fingertips connect with your clit, and you glide them over the bud, moaning louder as you feel your orgasm jerk closer.

“Cum in me,” you find yourself saying, eyes trained on the spot between your legs where Tom’s cock meets with your cunt. “Wanna feel you fill me up.” 

His head finds the crook of your neck, sweaty forehead pushing up against your skin as he grunts. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

“It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand as you gasp for breath. “I’m close.”

Tom peaks a few moments later, and the action of his guttural groans spilling into the air coupled with the way his cock pulses as he empties his load inside you makes you spasm over the edge too. You whimper as you orgasm, a throbbing warmth spreading across you as Tom kisses your neck over and over, his fingers gripping yours tightly as you enjoy the high together, basking in it. Your mouth hangs half-open as you vocalise your climax, your body on fire as he fucks you through it, the moment spanning a short infinity.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, finally stilling. He stays nudged up inside you as he sits up, supporting his weight on his arms, your hands still joined. Tom kisses you passionately, and you feel him smile against your lips as you kiss him back. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

You bring your free hand up to his head, pushing his hair out from his face as you cup his cheek, looking into his captivating brown eyes. You look at him, and you know that there’s no safer vessel for your heart. You know he’s the love of your life. 

“Love you too,” you say, pausing to kiss him between each word. By the end, both of you are smiling. “You know you’re still in me, yeah?”

Tom chuckles, nodding. “Yeah.” He kisses your nose. “You’re warm.”

-

------

yeah you could say im soft for hoodie!tom...

masterlist linked in bio !

please let me know if you’ve got any thoughts :D askbox is always open; feel free to rb/comment (pls)

stay safe my lovely pals <3

[tropes-and-tales]

Nick Amaro:  Closer to You

A piece for @thatesqcrush K!nktober event.  This hits the “c*ckwarming” square.

WC:  3054

Other Pieces:  None.  This is a stand-alone.

CW:  Smut.  18+

________________

Nick was ashamed to admit it, but when he first met you, he did not like you at all.

He had just finalized his messy divorce, and he was in the middle of a case involving a prestigious private high school.  You were the assistant headmistress, and you had completely cooperated with the investigation – even testifying for the prosecution, choosing to break ranks with the school board, who stonewalled NYPD at every step.  Still, Nick thought you seemed aloof and even chilly, and he had been clipped and terse in his dealings with you.

Years later, Nick would wonder if someone up above, maybe his beloved grandmother, was looking out for him. Nudging him in a certain direction, as it were.  Because after the case was over, instead of going to Forlini’s for the usual post-case victory drink with the squad, Nick broke rank and went off to a different bar to drink alone.

He didn’t end up alone, though.  When he settled into a seat in the corner, he glanced up and saw you sitting at the bar, also alone.  You looked so forlorn – your shoulders rounded as you hunched over your glass of whatever you were drinking.  You didn’t look quite so aloof now.  You looked sad.

Some higher power pulled him from his seat and had him walk over to you, and he was surprised by the small smile you gifted him.  

“Detective,” you said in greeting.  “Celebrating?”

He nodded and pointed to the bar stool beside you, and you nodded back at him.  He settled in beside you and ordered a beer from a passing bartender.

“I’m celebrating too,” you offered, and you raised your glass once he got his drink.  A little uncertain, he clinked his bottle against your glass.

“What are we toasting?” he asked.

You glanced at him and gave him another small smile.  “The end of my illustrious career at Saint Augustine Academy.”  You took a sip of your drink and noted his furrowed brow of confusion, so you clarified.  “I was let go today.  A consequence of speaking out and testifying, I suppose.”

Nick winced.  “I’m sorry to hear it.”

You only shrugged.  “You want to hear the funny thing?  I was literally printing out my two weeks’ notice when they called me in and fired me.”  You gave him another glance and then shifted your eyes away as if you were ashamed.  “I couldn’t stay there after….what happened.  I feel guilty that I hadn’t found out it was happening sooner.”

It gave Nick a pang, seeing you look so shame-faced about something you had no control over, and he realized that his first impression of you was completely wrong.  You weren’t aloof at all.  That night, and then gradually, and then all at once, Nick would come to learn that, in fact, you had the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever met.

*****

You found a new job, and over the month that you were unemployed, you found a new boyfriend.  Not that you’d been looking, but Nick Amaro had a way of creeping up on you.  He had been painfully formal during that shameful case, then like a switch, he was warm and supportive.  It was a strange place to be, stressing about work while fostering a fledgling relationship, but he had dove in head-first.  Plowed past a bunch of the usual signposts of a new relationship to make sure you had the support you needed.

When your lease was up only three months later, it didn’t feel too fast to move in with him.  He was coming off of a rough divorce, and you were still traumatized by your work situation at Saint Augustine.  You both propped each other up and helped the other heal.

You thought about it all now, played out the past five months in your head.  How you’d gone from single in one job in a tiny Upper East Side apartment you could barely afford….to happily in love in a different job, in Nick’s house.  

The man in question was sitting on the couch now and watching a late Mets game on the west coast.  In typical thoughtful Nick fashion, he had tried to clean up after dinner, but you had whipped him with the tea-towel until he lifted his hands in surrender and retreated to the living room.

You stood in the doorway and just watched him as he watched the game, unaware of you.  The man was painfully handsome, and you couldn’t believe he was yours.  He looked good in literally everything – his dress blues, his work suits – but you liked casual Nick best, like he was now.  Ratty blue gym shorts, an NYPD academy t-shirt so old that the logo was mostly peeled off.  Like this, he looked like the boy next door – except you had never lived next door to a guy like him.  If you had, you might have never left your hometown.

The game cut to another truck commercial, and Nick turned his head and caught you watching him.  “Hey,” he said, and he gave you that knowing grin.

Fucking cops, you thought.  He was too good at guessing exactly what you were thinking.

“Hey yourself.”  You sauntered into the living room and settled onto the couch beside him.  You were in jean shorts and a tank top – it was early fall but still hot, and while you had A/C, you were trying to not go bankrupt trying in vain to keep cool.

“All done cleaning up?” he asked.

“Yeah.”  You reached over and plucked the bottle of beer out of his hand and took a sip before handing it back to him.  “How’s the game?”

“Going to extra innings, probably.”

You laid your hand on the back of his head and ran your fingers through his hair the way he liked.  “Am I going to bed by myself tonight, then?”

Nick laughed.  “It’s a Friday night.  You could stay up and watch with me, if you want.”

“Baseball is so boring though.”

“It’s not boring!” he replied indignantly, and you heard him take a deep breath and saw him square his shoulders, and you knew you were about to get the same lecture you always got:  baseball was a complex game requiring impeccable hand-eye coordination, cardio, quickness….truly, it was your only fight, and a tame one at that.

But you didn’t want to hear it again (because hearing it fifty times before hadn’t changed your mind yet), so you only leaned into him, pressed your breasts against his arm.  You were rewarded by his sudden exhalation, the wind out of his sails of his baseball argument.  You were also rewarded by the tell-tale sign of his gym shorts beginning to tent, and you knew that if you really pressed the issue, he’d abandon the game and sweep you into the bedroom.

And you knew you’d feel the usual sting of guilt if he missed the game.  Some player on the Mets was nearing some baseball milestone (a no-hitter, you think), and Nick asked for so little for himself.

You shifted on the couch and gazed at him, and his eyes were getting darker as his desire for you rose.  But when the game came back on, you caught how his gaze flickered to the screen.  He wanted you, and he wanted to watch the game, and he was struggling to choose.

Well, you reasoned – why make him?

You reached down and settled your hand over his growing bulge, the touch featherlight over the fabric of his shorts, and he gave a sharp inhalation at the sudden pressure.  But when he started to stand up, you placed your other hand on his shoulder and pushed him back against the couch.

“Stay there,” you said quietly.  “Just watch the game.”  You put a little more pressure on him, grasped his growing erection more firmly through his shorts.

Nick watched you with heavy-lidded eyes, and he misread your intent.  “You shouldn’t go down on me,” he cautioned.  “I haven’t showered yet today.”

You snorted at his thoughtfulness but shook your head.  Instead, you slipped your hand under the waistband of both his shorts and his boxers, and you bit back a sigh at the feel of his weight in your hand.  Nick had many wonderful qualities, and the most shallow part of you would put his cock straight at the top of the list.  It was perfectly formed, with just enough curve to hit that spot deep inside you that made you go temporarily blind when he was inside you.  When he squirmed a little and pushed up into your palm, you smiled even wider.

“Cariño,” he warned, but you put your free hand over his mouth gently.

“Just watch the game,” you whispered.  “All you have to do is watch the game.”

You released your hold on him and stood up, and you pulled your shirt off.  Despite your order, Nick’s eyes were glued to your form.  You unbuttoned your shorts and pushed them down, but you kept your bra and panties on.  You stepped back over to where Nick was sitting and smacked him lightly on his hip, and he complied to your wordless request, lifting his hips and allowing you to push his shorts and underwear off of him.

“Good boy,” you murmured.  You climbed onto his lap, facing away from him.  You reached back and grasped his rigid cock in one hand, and you pushed the side of your panties aside with your other hand.  You were already wet enough from your prior musings, though it wouldn’t have taken long to get there anyway.  

Then you lined yourself up with him and sat back slowly.  Inch by inch, because you loved to feel him split you open slowly, until you were settled in his lap and his cock was buried in you.  Your back was to his chest, and you could practically feel his heartbeat thundering away against you.

Nick tried to push up into you, but you turned your head a bit.  “Just watch the game,” you repeated.  “I’ll watch too.”

He gave a tortured groan but listened to you:  he settled his arms around your waist, pulling you just a little closer and drawing dual groans from each of you as he sank a little deeper into your wet heat.  But he didn’t try to set a rhythm or fuck you.  He just sat there and allowed you to sit with him.  His cock buried in you, a thick pressure that stretched you perfectly but didn’t move otherwise.

You had never done anything like this with any other boyfriend before.  Most of them didn’t even understand foreplay.  But Nick was different, and he seemed to feel more…emotional about sex.  Sex was never just sex with him.  It could be rough or fast or playful, but it was always a connection to him.  No matter how the two of you had sex, he always wanted the intimate parts in equal measure:  he fucked you from behind, say, but would haul you up off of your hands so that he could kiss you deeply when he came.  Or if you went down on him, he’d interlace his fingers with yours, holding your hand while you swallowed his release.

So you weren’t surprised by the contented sigh he released against your neck.  He was watching the game over your shoulder, his chin resting on you and his nose pressing against your neck when a commercial came on and he pressed a kiss to you.  But that’s all he did, and you knew he was relishing the sexual moment for all the intimacy that came with it.

“You okay back there?” you asked as the game went into a tenth, and then an eleventh inning.  You gave a purposeful clench of your core, squeezing him, and you were rewarded by a low groan in your ear.

“I’ve never wanted a baseball game to end so badly in my life,” he admitted, and he sounded so plaintive that you laughed.

“Are you okay?” he asked.  The arm around your waist shifted, and his hand stroked your hip gently.

“Mmm-hmm,” you hummed.  “I love you way you feel inside me.  It’s…intense, just having you there, not moving.”  You felt the way he twitched inside of you at your praise, and you knew he felt the same deep connection you were feeling.

When the first half of the twelvth inning came and went, you felt Nick’s thin thread of control start to fray.  When he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, you didn’t bother to stop him.  He had held out so impressively long.

He paused and waited for you to stop him, but you only murmured that if he missed the end of the game at this point, it was his own fault.  He responded by sinking his teeth into the tender skin of your neck, almost to the point of pain but just on the other side of it.  

“Don’t mark me up, Detective Amaro,” you warned playfully.  “I have impressionable young minds to teach on Monday.”

“Wear a turtleneck,” he muttered as he sucked a bruise at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“In this weather?” you asked.  “That’s hateful.”

Nick dragged one arm from around your waist upward, and he slid his hand under the cup of your bra.  He rubbed the pad of his thumb over your nipple and drew a breathy sigh from you.  

“I could never hate you,” he answered, and his voice lost its husky quality for a moment.  “I love you.”

“I love – ah!” you were cut off by his fingers as they pinched your sensitive peak, and the action made you squirm in his lap.  That was the final, tenuous thread of his control, snapping.  Nick moved both hands to your hips and held you against him as he pressed up into you.  He was already buried to the hilt, so the motion only gave him a fraction more depth, but it was enough.  You could feel the blunt head of his cock brushing against your cervix, and it pulled a low, guttural moan from you that he echoed a moment later.  

His control snapped but he didn’t set a frantic pace.  He moved his head back to your shoulder, and you wondered if he was still watching the game as he drove into you in deep, slow movements.  You were glad for his care.  Sitting on him for all that time had made you extra sensitive, and a sudden shift from no movement to a frenetic hammering might shatter you.  Which wasn’t necessarily bad, but sometimes you wanted the slow approach to an orgasm, like climbing a mountain and then hitting the peak together.

That’s what Nick did – led you both to your mutual releases, together.  He only pressed into you in a lazy rhythm, and once that was set, he started muttering in your ear, his own brand of sweetly filthy talk that made you blush and made you wet in equal measure.

“Your cunt is absolutely perfect,” he muttered now.  And, as always, because he was a sex crimes detective and didn’t want to ever objectify you, he added, “you’re absolutely perfect.”

And once that rhythm was set, his cock battering you just right, his words rushing past your ear – he shifted one hand from your hip to where you ended and he began.  He stroked your swollen bud gently, slick with your arousal, and you could feel yourself approaching the crest of the mountain.

“Nick, I’m close,” you warned him, and he replied by picking up the pace of everything:  his thrusting cock, his honeyed words, his circling fingers.

He said something else then, probably some command for you to come, but he didn’t have to – you were already there, the tight pressure in you giving way to a flood of feeling.  Your legs trembled uselessly under you as you squeezed your eyes tight, the warmth of your orgasm rushing over you and through you, and you only started to recover when you heard Nick groan behind you and give one final thrust up into you.  Then you felt him come too, his cock painting your walls with his release.

You were both a sweaty mess, both panting against each other.  You started to climb off of Nick’s lap, but he held you tight against him.

“Kiss me,” he said, and you turned your head as best you could and met his mouth with yours.  When he pulled back, you caught his usual post-sex, stunned grin – only it was a little wider this time.  

That was the moment someone on the Mets hit a home run, and Nick tore his eyes away from your face to watch the replay on the screen.  He gave a little crow of triumph, then rocked forward to kiss you again.

“Told you baseball was exciting,” he proclaimed, and you rolled your eyes elaborately as climbed off of him as best you could, your legs like jelly.  

“That was the most exciting baseball game I’d ever watched,” you conceded, “but only because I spent the extra innings sitting on your dick.”

You didn’t miss how his eyes drifted down your form, watching as his release trickled out of you and darkened your panties.  He stood up too, and he pulled you to him to place a lingering kiss on your mouth.

“Sounds like we have a solid plan for the finals then,” he said.  “Because I really liked that.”

“Like the Mets are making the finals.”

Nick reached down and swatted your ass playfully, and you laughed at the mock-anger on his face.  

“You’re lucky I love you,” he said.  “Mocking my team like that.”

“And I love you too,” you replied.  “So much so that I watched a baseball game with you.  Or part of one, anyway.”

He grinned at you, the dimples on his cheeks pronounced.  “Sounds like we’re both making sacrifices here, then.”

“The things we do for love,” you said, gesturing grandly.  He laughed and pulled you into a tight hug, and you were reminded of how lucky you were to have him, unaware of how he was thinking the exact same thing – that he was lucky to have you too.

•Tag List• @rachelxwayne​   @bowieisawizard​   @crowleysqueenofhell​   @evee87​   @differentshadesofgray​   @glimmerglittergirl​   @greyfairie​   @inlovewith3​   @madpanda75​   @mommakat32​   @mrs-endless​   @redlipstickandplaid​   @southern-magnolia​   @thatesqcrush     @whyissvuruiningmylovelife​   @sonnybarisi   @zizzlekwum​

[catnaples]

Why are you wearing clothes? NSFW

This is sinful and I’m very ashamed lmao. I really hope you like it! Fics like these aren’t my specialty, so i hope it’s well written enough! 

You’re drunk and impatient, and Kuroo’s hot and ready (like a pizza, y’know?)

CW: Attempted C*ckwarming, Cre*mpie, Cursing, Overstim

KUROO IS AGED UP!

“Oof” you grunted as you fell once again into your boyfriends side. He chuckled and stared down at you, amused by how clumsy you were when you were drunk. 

 “Wow, Y/N. You only had two glasses of wine and you’re already trying to force yourself onto me?” He asked, giving you his signature smirk. He knew that it was an extra strong wine, but still. It was fun to tease you. 

 Instead of shooting a smart remark back, you simply pushed yourself further into him, grinning. “Kuroo...why are you wearing clothes right now?!” You asked, your eyes dramatically widening. Kuroo laughed again. “Y/N, we’re literally walking around in a park right now. Also, it’s freezing out.”

You wiggled you’re eyebrows and pushed him against a tree, hiccupping. “Well, big boy~ Let’s change that?” You tried to sound sultry as you growled, but it came out as gurgling instead. 

 You and Kuroo looked at each other with wide eyes before you both bent over and began to laugh hysterically. “Is-is that an attempt to be sexy?” Kuroo asked between streams of laughter. You were on the ground, holding your stomach as you switched between laughing and wheezing. “I was just tryna seduce you!” You cried, your cheeks beginning to hurt.

 Your laughter began to die down after a few minutes, and Kuroo helped you back up. He planted a kiss on your cheek. “I haven’t laughed that hard in months, Y/N. What would I do without you?” He asked, embracing you tightly. 

 Instead of responding, you settled for wrapping your arms around his waist, nuzzling into him as the cold air finally started to eat through your jacket. “Let’s go home and watch a movie.” He suggested. 

 You continued to hold on to his arm as you both made your way back to your apartment, laughing at each other’s stupid remarks. The closer you got to your home, the more the alcohol wore off. The buzz was being replaced by sleepiness, and the cold was making you uncomfortable.

 When you finally made it through the door, you made a beeline for your room. Kuroo followed, knowing that you still had some of his comfy clothes in your dresser. 

 The exhaustion was showing on Kuroo’s face as he got changed with you, and you knew that a movie probably wasn’t going to happen. But as you watched him pull his shirt off and you got a nice view of his muscular chest, you felt your cheeks get hot. 

 You both were exhausted, but you still wanted something. As you pulled on an oversized t-shirt, an idea crossed your mind. Before Kuroo could finish putting a pair of sweats on, you pushed him down on the bed. You climbed onto his lap.

“Y/N?” He asked, his narrow eyes staring up at you. “I wanna try something tonight.” You said, your hands slipping up to play with his hair. “Oh?” He asked, a small grin finding its way to his mouth. “I know we’re both tired, but I still want you.” You mumbled, grinding lightly on his lap. 

 His large hands found your hips and he began to knead them softly as you continued to ride his lap slowly. “Maybe, since were both so tired, we can try cockwarming?” You suggested, eyes hopeful. 

 Kuroo didn’t need any convincing, instantly agreeing. “Let’s get the room ready. Once I’m in you, I don’t want you getting up for anything.” He growled, gently pushing you from his lap. You felt yourself clench at those words, and wasted no time in getting the lights turned off and the bed set up.

You threw yourself onto the bed and under your covers, holding your arms out for Kuroo. He lowered himself down next to you, placing a long kiss on your lips. He pulled you into his chest and placed your leg over his hip. His dick was already half-hard, and you knew it was only going to take a few strokes to get him fully erect.

 You let him run his tongue along your lower lip as your hand drifted downwards, lightly gripping his long cock. He groaned and pushed his tongue into your mouth, bringing his long fingers down to your clit. He lightly pinched and rubbed at it, causing you to grind your hips down. 

 You began to stroke his cock, rubbing the precum off of the head every now and then while you both got lost in the pleasure. Kuroo went to slip his fingers inside, but you were already so close that you pushed his hand away. “We’re supposed to be cockwarming.” You mumbled, releasing him. He nodded, his lips puffy and his eyes hooded.

 “Well then, sweetheart. You’d better stay still while my cock is sitting inside of you.” He commanded, his voice deeper. You moaned as he positioned his dick at your entrance, teasing your sensitive hole. “And you’d better not cum right away either.” You teased him, instantly regretting your words when his dick pushed into your tight walls. 

 You both let out a long, lewd moan as he bottomed out, clinging to each other as you both tried not to finish right then and there. Kuroo had you in a position that let you feel all of him; every vein, every twitch of his stiff cock. You bit your lip as you fought the urge to grind down on him. “Ahh...baby...stop clenching around me like that...if you don’t want me to fuck you into the mattress.” He groaned.

 “Ughn-fuck it. We don’t need to cockwarm right now,” you moaned out, flipping him onto his back. “Just fuck me.” An evil grin spread onto his lips, and you found yourself groaning. You knew exactly what he was about to do. 

 He flipped you over and hovered over you, the slight movements of his dick in you making you moan. “But I thought you were too tired to fuck?” He asked, his lips biting at the smooth skin of your neck. 

 His strong grip kept you in place, preventing you from grinding down on him. You growled in frustration. “Yeah, well I changed my mind.” You groaned, scratching at his back. You knew that he had three weaknesses, and you were going to go straight for them.

 Scratching at his back was one of them. He instinctively bucked his hips into you, and you moaned. “Baby...” he warned. You shot him an evil smirk. “Why don’t you just fuck me already?” You moaned out, reaching your hand up to tug at his hair. That was his second weakness. 

 You pulled him down and locked your lips onto him, yanking his hair as you bit at his lower lip. And that was his third weakness. “Fuck, Y/N.” He growled, ripping his mouth away from yours. There was a fire in his eyes as he pushed your legs back, your knees almost touching your chest. “You wanna be fucked that bad? Fine, I just hope you don’t have anywhere to be for the next few days. You won’t be walking for two days when I’m done with you.”

You felt yourself clench around him again, and without warning he began to pound into you mercilessly. The room was instantly filled with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin and your loud moans as Kuroo groaned. 

 “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight...and-UNGH. You’re so fucking warm” he pushed you down further into the mattress, as he continued to pull his dick out to the tip, before slamming it right back into you. His balls slapped your ass each time, only spurring him on. 

 A small sliver of a thought passed through your mind of your neighbors and how they must be trying to sleep, but you didn’t care. Kuroo’s dick was pounding you into oblivion and all you could do was lay there and take it. His tight grip was unyielding, and when it started to feel too good and you tried to move away, he only held you into place. He grinned and gave a low chuckle. “Oh, Y/N. You’re not going anywhere.”

You were rapidly approaching your high, but before the words even left your lips, he pulled out. You began to whine, but quickly switched to lewd moans again when his mouth found your clit. He began to suck and lick like it was the best thing he’s ever tasted. 

 He shoved his fingers into your needy pussy and curled them up to find your sweet spot. “Go ahead and cum for me kitten. It won’t be your last for tonight, that’s for sure.” He growled, the vibrations on your swollen nub sending you straight over the edge. He held your legs against the mattress as you tried to kick and buck through your orgasm, the waves of pleasure crashing over you and bringing tears to your eyes. But instead of stopping, he continued to assault your clit with his long tongue, a fiery look in his eyes when they met yours.

He continued to suck on your overstimulated clit until he could feel your walls clenching again, ignoring your pleas for him to stop as a second orgasm rapidly approached. Before you could cum again, he was flipping you onto your stomach and pushing himself back into you. His hand pushed onto your back, forcing you to lay flat on the bed as he resumed pounding you. 

 He wasn't lying when he said he’d pound you into the mattress. The feeling of your walls clamping down on his throbbing cock had him going faster and impossibly harder as he reached a mind blowing orgasm, demanding that you cum on his cock. As he screamed through arguably one of the best orgasms of his life, you felt another powerful orgasm wash over you, your vision turning to white as your mind felt like it was breaking. The feeling of his cum spraying against your walls only prolonged the orgasm for you, and tears once again pricked at your eyes as your body began to shake. “F-fuck, Kuroo, please, UGH”

Once he reached his high, he pulled out, his cum slowly leaking from your aching pussy. The lewd sounds disappeared, the room now being filled with the sound of your panting. You both were shaking from the intensity of your orgasms. 

 “Y/N, here. Let me clean you up.” Kuroo murmured in your ear, his voice soft again. He carried your shaking form to the shower and rinsed you off before doing the same for himself. 

 You both were more exhausted than when you had originally come home, and all you wanted now was to cuddle him with him so you could sleep. He shuffled back into the bedroom with you, too tired to pull on clothes. 

 As he held you tightly, your back pressed up against his chest, you turned your head to look at him. “I still want to cockwarm.” You whispered, your eyes drooping. Kuroo said nothing, opting to grin instead. “Alright, baby.” He mumbled, his dick hardening a little bit.