#smut stuff

[chrissssssmut]

winter aespa school student president x male loser reader smut?

DETENTION

School President Winter x Loser Male Reader

AN: I've got so much time now! I am currently on a break from my work which explains the everyday upload! Love y'all!♥️

It was almost 5:00 PM. The school hallways were long emptied out—no chatter, no squeaking shoes, no slam of lockers. Just silence.

Except for Classroom 2-C.

You were still in there, sitting awkwardly in the back row, tapping your pencil against the desk and glancing toward the front of the classroom. And there she was. Still there, arms crossed, standing by the board like she ran the entire building.

Because she did.

“Still spacing out?” Winter said, voice clipped, authoritative. “It’s no wonder your grades are in the gutter.”

You sat up straighter immediately. “I—I’m not spacing out. I’m just… I thought detention was over by now.”

She slowly turned to face you fully, blazer pressed, school emblem pinned over her chest, and a little clipboard in her hand.

“Oh?” she stepped down from the podium. Heels clicking. "You thought? That's funny, considering you barely think at all during class. Late three times this week. Homework—missing. And I hear from Ms. Choi you were dozing off during her lecture.”

You rubbed your neck, cheeks heating. “I mean… yeah, but—”

“Enough.” Her voice sliced through your excuse.

You didn’t dare talk back. Not to her. Kim Minjeong, aka Winter, was a legend. Student council president. Top of every class. Ice-cold, terrifying, beautiful.

She stepped closer.

"Everyone else has left," she said softly. Her voice changed—calmer, but still in control. “But you? You’re staying.”

Your breath caught. “Why…?”

“Because I’m not finished with you yet.”

Winter looked down at you, her arms finally relaxing to her sides. Then she reached into her skirt pocket and slowly pulled out something small, lacy—

Your brain froze.

Pink panties.

Your eyes widened.

“W-what—are those—”

“Mine.” She twirled them on her finger casually. “They’ve been in your bag all day, haven’t they? You think I didn’t notice?”

You panicked. “I-I didn’t steal them, I swear! Someone must’ve planted them—”

Her hand suddenly pressed against your desk, leaning in close. Her cold, unreadable face just inches away. "You didn’t steal them?" she whispered. “Then why are they wet, loser?”

Your mouth dried. “I-I didn’t—”

Winter smirked—just barely. “You're such a pervert. Always staring when you think I don't see. Always so quiet, so obedient... You act like I don’t know every single filthy thought in your head.”

Your cock twitched in your pants.

She saw it. Of course she did.

And instead of being disgusted, Winter... smiled.

“You like this, don’t you?” she asked. “Being put in your place by your school president. Having me hold your detention hostage while you sit there with your cock getting hard in your pants like a dog.”

You bit your lip.

She raised the panties to your face and let them rest across your cheek. "They were on me this morning. I wore them in every council meeting, every class. And now they're here. With you.”

Then she slid them down… down to your lap. Rubbed them across your bulge slowly, carefully.

You shuddered.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

She tilted her head, tone mockingly sweet. “What was that?”

“...I like it.”

She smiled again. “Good boy.”

Then Winter moved like a switch flipped. She grabbed your tie, yanked you forward, and kissed you. No hesitation, no testing the waters—just full lips, soft scent, hot breath, and a tongue that claimed your mouth like it was hers.

When she pulled back, a thin string of spit connected you.

She walked back toward the teacher’s desk, sat on it, and spread her legs.

Her skirt was still on. But no panties now. Just skin underneath, smooth and soft and wet. Your mouth hung open.

“Crawl,” she said. “Come here.”

You didn’t even hesitate.

Your knees hit the floor. You crawled down the aisle between desks like a pathetic little pet and knelt in front of her. Her shoes brushed your sides as she opened her legs wider.

Winter leaned back on her hands, biting her bottom lip slightly. "Look at you. All that quiet loner act, and now you’re on your knees for me. Such a good little loser."

You swallowed hard. “Can I taste…?”

She looked down her nose at you. “Beg for it.”

“Please…” you murmured, breath shaky. “Please, President… I want to taste you so bad…”

“Of course you do.” She slid forward on the desk, pussy now inches from your lips. “Now shut up and show me you’re worth the breath it takes to keep you around.”

You dove in.

She tasted sweet and sharp, hips jerking just slightly as your tongue flicked across her folds. She grabbed your hair, fingers laced tight, forcing your face deeper. Your nose was buried in her as you licked her slit, circled her clit, sucked when she gasped.

“F-fuck—mmph… just like that,” she muttered. “God, you’re so good with that tongue, aren’t you? Knew you’d be good for something.”

You moaned against her.

The panties she left on your lap were now stuffed into your hand—and you used them to jerk yourself off, the scent of her soaking them while her taste coated your mouth.

Suddenly—her grip tightened.

"Stop."

You froze.

Her eyes were cold again. “You don’t come until I say so. Got it?”

“Y-yes.”

She stood up, fixed her skirt. Walked over to your desk. “Sit.”

You stumbled to your feet, pants around your ankles, dick throbbing hard.

Winter sat on your lap facing you, straddling, her pussy rubbing right over your tip.

“Been thinking about this for weeks,” she muttered. “Watching you squirm in the back row, hiding your hard-ons like I don’t see them. Wondering what your cock would feel like.”

You groaned. “Please—”

She cut you off by sliding down.

Just like that—tight, wet heat wrapped around your cock.

You choked out a breath. “F-fuck—Winter—President—”

Her eyes rolled back for a second. “God… you are thick…”

Then she began to move.

Slow, deep, grinding strokes that made the desk creak. Her skirt hiked up around her waist, your hands desperately grabbing her hips as she rode you like she owned every inch.

She leaned in close again, lips brushing your ear. “You like when your school president’s pussy’s wrapped around your cock?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

“You like when I fuck you like I own you?”

"Please—keep going—"

She moaned, breath hot. “Keep talking like that and I might let you come.”

Just as you felt your release creeping up—

Click.

The doorknob turned.

You both froze.

Outside: heavy footsteps.

A voice. “Hello? Anyone still in here?”

Your eyes went wide.

Winter didn’t move.

“Don’t you dare make a sound,” she whispered, her pussy still squeezing you inside her.

“Security,” the man outside called. “Classroom check.”

Winter leaned forward and bit your neck. Hard. Your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Her hips slowly moved again. Riding you. While a grown man stood just outside the door.

She whispered, “Keep it together. Be a good little fucktoy. Don’t spill until I say.”

The security guard rattled the knob once more… then moved on.

Silence.

Then—

Winter slammed down hard.

You cried out—but she kissed you to muffle it, riding you mercilessly now.

“Come for me,” she ordered. “Fill your school president up like the obedient loser you are.”

Your vision blurred as you spilled inside her. Her pussy milked every drop.

She bit your lip when you sagged backward, panting.

Winter grinned, satisfied. “Not bad,” she whispered. “Maybe I’ll keep you for extra lessons.”

You were still twitching, your cum leaking down your shaft and dripping onto the chair.

Winter stood up, pulled her skirt back down, and walked to the door like nothing happened.

“Oh,” she added, turning back. “Detention tomorrow. Same time.”

She winked.

“And maybe, just maybe, I'll let you keep my panties.”

THE NEXT DAY

Your legs couldn’t stop shaking under your desk all day.

Every time you blinked, you saw it again—her skirt riding up, her panties in your lap, her voice whispering filth in your ear while she ground herself on your cock like she owned it.

Winter. Kim Minjeong. Your school’s untouchable student council president. And now—somehow—the girl who made you cum inside her in Classroom 2-C while the security guard nearly caught you both.

She didn’t text you. Didn’t look at you during class. Didn't even acknowledge your existence.

But as the final bell rang, and students started filing out, a note slid across your desk.

"President’s Office. 4:30 PM. Don’t be late."

Your heart nearly stopped.

By the time you stood in front of the council office door, your palms were sweaty. You knocked—once.

No answer.

You tried the handle. Unlocked.

The room was dim—sunlight low through the blinds, casting stripes across the wooden floors and bookshelves. There was only one person inside.

Her.

Winter sat behind the wide mahogany desk, blazer folded neatly off to the side, white shirt fitted tight to her body, first two buttons undone. Her legs were crossed, black heels tapping the edge of the carpet.

She didn’t look up.

“Took you long enough.”

You stepped in. Quiet. Nervous. Hard already.

She flipped a page in the file she was reading. "Close the door.”

You obeyed. The click of the lock sounded way louder than it should’ve.

Winter finally looked up.

Eyes sharp. Hungry.

“You remember what I told you yesterday?” she asked.

“Y-yeah.”

“Repeat it.”

Your voice trembled. “You said… detention. Same time. Same place.”

She smirked faintly. “You remember everything I say so well. Guess that loser brain does work when you’re thinking about the right things.”

She stood. Walked over slowly, hips swaying.

Then she sat on the edge of the desk in front of you, legs open just enough to tease. You looked down—no panties again.

She was completely bare under that tight school skirt.

Your breath caught.

Winter tilted her head. “Well? Are you just going to stare?”

You dropped to your knees.

“Good boy.”

You leaned in, but her heel pressed to your chest, stopping you.

“Not yet,” she said. “Tell me what you thought about last night.”

You swallowed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you. About how tight you felt. How wet. How—fuck—I came so deep inside you—”

“Mhm,” she said, pleased. “I thought about it too.”

Her heel lowered.

“You begged so nicely with my panties in your lap.”

Then she leaned back again, this time reaching down and parting herself with two fingers.

"Now come worship properly."

Your tongue was already out before she finished speaking.

Winter moaned softly as your lips found her again. Her pussy was already dripping, soaking your chin as you licked up and down her folds, slow, obedient, desperate.

She tugged your hair and pulled you in deeper, grinding her hips to your mouth. “God, you eat pussy like it’s the only thing you’re good for. Maybe it is.”

You didn’t argue. You couldn't. Her taste filled your senses and her grip kept you locked in.

“Use your tongue right,” she hissed. “Circle my clit—slower—don’t stop until I say.”

You obeyed every word.

Then—

She stopped you.

“Sit down,” she said, pointing to the chair in front of the desk. “Strip.”

You did. Shirt off. Pants gone. Cock standing proud and throbbing.

Winter walked over, heels clicking, and straddled your lap—but didn’t let you in.

Not yet.

Instead, she pulled something from the desk drawer.

Your jaw dropped.

It was the same pink pair of panties from yesterday.

She ran them over your chest, then down to your shaft, wrapping them around the base like a makeshift cock ring and tying a knot.

“There,” she said, satisfied. “You don’t get to come until I untie you.”

You whimpered.

Winter leaned down, her voice in your ear.

“You're going to sit there and take it like a good little loser while I ride your cock until I cum—over and over.”

Then she guided herself down—slowly, torturously—until your entire shaft was inside her again.

You almost exploded on the spot.

But the tight knot at the base kept it from happening.

She used you.

Rode you hard, bouncing in rhythm with her breathless moans, her nails digging into your shoulders as you clenched your fists, panting through gritted teeth, desperate to finish.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “Not until I’ve milked every drop you’ve got stored in there.”

She fucked you with practiced rhythm. Hips snapping. Wet, obscene sounds filling the council office as her thighs slapped against yours. Your cock throbbed painfully, restrained, held back by the knot of her panties.

Then suddenly—knock knock.

You both froze.

Winter immediately slammed her hand over your mouth. Her hips didn't stop.

"President?" a voice called from behind the door. "It's Mr. Park—building check. Are you still inside?"

Your cock twitched inside her.

Winter leaned close, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re hard in your president while someone’s talking to us through the door,” she whispered. “You’re such a fucking pervert.”

You moaned behind her hand.

She answered, voice perfect, calm.

“Yes, Mr. Park. Still finalizing the reports. I’ll be done shortly.”

“Oh, alright then. Just locking up soon.”

You both waited. Silence.

Footsteps faded.

Winter looked back at you.

Then untied the knot.

“You may come,” she whispered, tightening her walls around you. “Now.”

Your whole body snapped.

You exploded inside her, load after load, thick, twitching ropes spilling deep in her pussy as you cried out into her palm.

She moaned softly, grinding down to take every last drop.

When you finally stopped shaking, she leaned back and smiled.

Your cum dripped out between her thighs as she stood, slowly putting her blazer back on.

She walked around the desk, sat back in her chair, crossed her legs.

“Clean yourself up,” she said without looking.

You grabbed tissues. Wiped your cock. Pulled your pants on.

“Same time tomorrow,” she said, eyes still on her laptop. “I expect you to knock this time. And bring me something sweet.”

You blinked. “Like… candy?”

She looked up, smirking.

“No. Your mouth.”

[prettytanii]

Ok but srsly putting the fact that someone writes smut against them in an argument is so corny especially when you're the one who heavily dabbles in it yourself and it's not just the other person like no, you're not slick for gaslighting someone especially after the person finally snapped at your weird ass behavior like please cry about it I don't care if you cry in a corner abt it if you wanna bitch abt it take it to my dms because I will be dammed if I don't side with someone I've known longer and have more respect for

@kazutora-kurokawa @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @manji-hoe @prncessrindou

[personinthepalace]

Janeford in their full glory! Basically an uncensored version of this promo video - enjoy ;)

[drymushroomfics]

Fraye Hill of House Lannister

Previous Next

Chapter Thirteen. Part Two

The rest of her evening, Fraye refused help from anyone else. Any maiden or servent to come to her door, she turned away. She didn't want to bathe or eat. She only wanted her worries to ease.

She looked to the side room, staring at the large tub. She knows she should get the feel of that man off of her. She stands, starting to undress herself when the door opens suddenly. Sandor walks inside, locking the door behind him.

"Why are you refusing the servant's help?", he asks.

"I am fine, Sandor. I just don't want to be bothered."

"Do you want me to go?"

She can see the worry sudden on his face. She walks closer to him.

"No! You are the only person I want in this room with me."

She notices he is still covered in blood.

"You haven't washed.", she tells him.

"I've been angry."

"Well let me."

"No. I will wash later."

"Please? I was about to."

She turns, showing him that she started to lace down her dress.

He finds himself giving in to her. They moves to her washing area.

He sits, watching her. She tries to remove her dress with struggle.

"Let me help.", he says.

She nods, turning around, her back to him. He moves his hands up to unlace the rest of her dress. He pulls it down, the fabric dropping to the floor. She moves away, pulling off her underclothing. He watches her gather up her clothing and placing it off to the side.

"My turn.", she smiles, walking back to him.

"You don't have to. I have my own hands.", he replies, eyes unable to leave her bare body.

"I know you are capable Sandor, but I would like to."

She starts to unbuckle his armor, piece by piece. She gently sets them to the side, making sure not to damage them. Once he's down to his undershirt and breeches, he pulls her close to him.

"I don't know if I can control myself with you bare to me like this.", he whispers.

"I would kiss you but I'd rather not taste that man's blood on your lips."

He laughs, making her smile. She's never heard him laugh before and it makes her heart swell.

"Can you fit?", she asks, geturing to her tub.

Her tub is larger upon her request when she arrived. She likes to be able to soak with a lot of room.

"I can just bathe you.", he tells her.

"We can at least try?"

He gives in once again, standing to remove the rest of his clothes. She watches with amusement as he sits into the tub. His legs fitting as long as he sits straight up. She joins him, sitting down directly on his lap.

She grabs a cloth, wetting it. She begins to clean his face.

He sighs letting himself relax a little. The warmth of the water mixed with her warm touch is enough to almost calm his bones.

"I spoke to Jamie and Tyrion.", she tells him.

"About what?", he asks.

"They have both agreed to try to convice Cersei and Joffrey of our marriage."

"What did you tell them? Probably thought you crazy to want to marry me."

She moves hitting his chest with the cloth. He chuckles.

"I told them that neither of them would ever have to worry for my safety if I married you. That seemed to spark their interest."

"You would be right."

He takes the cloth from her, setting it down. His arms circle her waist, pulling her closer.

"I will protect you."

She brings her hands to touch the sides of his now clean face.

"I know you will. I am only safe in your arms."

He leans forward, capturing her lips. Her hands move to his shoulders. His kiss turns hungry. She can feel him stirring between her legs, causing her own arrousal to take interest. She starts to grind herself onto him. He groans, his hands gripping her hips.

"Please.", she whimpers when his lips move from hers.

"Seven hells woman.", he groans, his cock hardening under her.

He brings his hand down to position himself under her. He starts to move her hips back and forth. She's rubbing herself against him, giving them both a little relief. She moves her hands to his shoulder to support her movements. He watches her hips as they glide her cunt back and forth on his cock.

"Sandor.", she says.

He leans forward, kissing her hard.

Her hands tangle in his hair as his stays gripped on her hips. He pushes her hips harder, forcing her to rub him harder.

Fraye whimpers when they're lips pull apart. Everytime the head of his cock pushes against her nub, it sends her closer and closer to a peak.

It isn't long before she's coming on him, whining his name.

"Fuck.", he groans, feeling his own peak approaching.

"That's it kitten. Ride me.", he breathes.

She forces her sensitive body to continue, grinding down on him until he cums.

He holds her tight and buries his face in her shoulder, his teeth biting down on her shoulder.

She sighs at the new feeling, enjoying the litte bit of pain it causes.

"Gods.", he whispers.

She chuckles, "I can't wait to experience it all."

"It will be soon if you keep this shit up."

•○•◇•○•♡•○•◇•○•

Her eyes open slowly, feeling movement. She rolls over, realizing Sandor is slipping on his boots.

"You're leaving.", she grumbles.

She sits up, rubbing her eyes.

"I must.", he says, standing.

"I know."

He moves over to her, leaning down to kiss her tired lips.

He pulls away and he can see that she is sad to have him leave. He sits down at the edge, moving her to sit in his lap sideways.

"I will be back tonight if I am able.", he tells her.

She smiles with a nod. He kisses her once more, letting it linger for only a moment. He has to move her away and stand. He heads toward the door.

"Get some more sleep.", he tells her before slowly opening the door.

She watches him leave. She sighs, lying back in bed.

She rolls over to where he had laid, sighing as she feels his warmth still on the satin fabric.

"If we were husband and wife, he'd never have to leave me like this.", she thinks to herself.

She closes her eyes, imagining him cloaking her in yellow and black. She smiles, slowly drifting off to sleep with thoughts of him in her dreams.

[defiledheartsblog]

If I sign up for Patreon now, will I get access to smut of previous months or not? I was interested in the Saturnalia one. Will I get access to the updated demo, too?

Hi! Yes, if you pledge to the Fox tier, you will gain access to the backlog, and to the updated demo. The demo is around 40k words long (for now it includes mainly Marcus, some Niall, a little Quinn). The next update will include Camilla and Tinsae, at least. The smut backlog includes:

a toxic hate, uh, loving scenario with Marcus

a forest date with Niall

fooling around with Camilla in her wine cellar

waking up from a nightmare with Quinn

Saturnalia smut with Niall and Marcus

becoming an offering to Tinsae's goddess (as per usual)

kinda toxic Legate stuff

reading poetry with Marcus

aaand this month's smut RO is Quinn. That scenario is still in the works.

[pitohuimaki]

Guilty As Sin.

Kazuto and Shino formed a bond based on shared guilt and trauma — taking a life. But with Kazuto gasping through the death rattle of his relationship, they commit a crime neither of them thought they would be capable of.

Rating: E

Word count: 5,920

this was a request that i was allowed to post. my first try at properly writing kazuto/shino!! i’m pretty happy with how it came out, given that i’ve never properly written them before — yay for trying new things!! :)

[chestnuts-secret-lair]

I would like to share how good I am at breaking the filter. No need to applaud.. but keep clapping 💕

Mdni (Kazzy go away thx)

[kairithemang0]

I've got a lot of respect for smut writers. you write something incredibly sexual, it's probably somewhat of a look into your own soul, and then bitches are too scared to leave kudos of comments half the time, so it looks as though everyone hates your work. And yet yall still do it, and I love that

[chrissssssmut]

I wanna request a five some scenario based on this TikTok

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSryxcfbe/

SLEEPOVER TROUBLE

Yunjin, Winter, Giselle & Somi x Male Reader

Tags: Anal, Oral, Vaginal, hole switching, dirty talk, harem, fivesome, cumplay, wet noises, dominant girls, cock worship, absolute filth

AN: My mind's not working properly so forgive for any mistakes here. Male Reader def had the time of his life here! I also changed some of the stuff here so it won't be as accurate like the pics XD.

It started off innocent enough.

Or so you thought.

When Somi had messaged the group chat, saying, “Sleepover at [Your Name]’s place. I’m bringing snacks. And wine. And… mischief 😘,” you assumed it was just her usual chaotic teasing. You had no clue that an hour later, your apartment would be filled with four of the hottest girls you knew—all in the kind of pajamas that made you question whether you were dreaming.

“Damn, this place is still as messy as last time,” Yunjin muttered, tossing her overnight bag on your couch as she slipped off her fuzzy slippers. Her oversized shirt rode up just enough to show the curve of her thighs, and the way she arched her back when stretching didn’t help.

Winter followed, hair tied up, wearing a cropped baby tee that barely contained her chest, and loose sleep shorts that hung dangerously low on her hips. “Could use a woman's touch,” she smirked, stepping past you close enough that your shoulders brushed. Her perfume clung to your hoodie.

“Yah, he’s trying his best,” Giselle giggled, arms looping around your neck from behind. You felt her chest press into your back, warm and firm. “Aren’t you, babe?” she whispered low by your ear, breath hot.

Somi shut the door last, dropping a huge tote bag full of junk food and alcohol with a smug grin. “He’s gonna need more than his best tonight,” she said, eyes locked on you like she already knew exactly how this night was ending.

Your throat went dry.

They sprawled on your couch, laughing, talking, eating chips and sipping drinks. The movie was playing—some dumb romcom—but no one was paying attention.

Especially not you.

Because every time you looked up, someone was touching you.

Yunjin’s hand on your thigh.

Winter’s head resting on your shoulder, breath slow, soft.

Giselle’s fingers playing with the hem of your shorts like it was casual.

Somi lying across your lap like it was her spot, stretching so her tank top rode up her ribs.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Yunjin finally said, voice low, sultry, as she leaned closer. Her lips brushed your ear. “Something wrong, baby?”

“I—uh…” You swallowed. “You guys are… kinda handsy tonight.”

“Oh?” Winter sat up, crawling across the couch like a cat. “And you don’t like it?”

Somi looked up from your lap. “Or do you like it too much?”

You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears as Giselle snatched the remote and shut off the movie.

“Let’s stop pretending,” she said, turning to straddle your lap while Somi moved beside you. “You know we didn’t come here just to watch movies.”

“Not with you looking like that,” Somi added, tugging your shirt up just a little, revealing your abs.

Yunjin was already lifting her top off, slow and deliberate. “I’ve been thinking about this since last week. You wore those grey sweats on campus and didn’t even realize how hard you were making it for us.”

Winter leaned in, pushing her lips to your jaw. “We talked about it after you left. Every. Single. One of us.”

“And we decided,” Somi whispered, her hand creeping down your waistband, “we’re done waiting.”

Clothes disappeared quickly.

One moment, they were four flirty girls on your couch. The next, they were devouring you with eyes and hands and mouths.

Yunjin kissed you first—hard, deep, dominant. She tasted like wine and need, her tongue sliding against yours as her fingers wrapped around you, stroking slow and intentional.

Winter moved to your chest, kissing down your collarbone, teeth lightly grazing your skin. “So sensitive,” she whispered, lips ghosting lower.

Somi straddled your thighs, looking up at you as she pulled your cock free. Her smile was filthy. “I call first taste,” she said—and then her mouth was on you, warm and slick and greedy.

You groaned, hand tangling in her hair, but she batted your hand away.

“Don’t rush me,” she pouted. “I want to savor this.”

Meanwhile, Giselle knelt beside her, lips pressed to your stomach, murmuring, “We’re going to ruin you tonight.”

And they did.

Somi sucked you with the enthusiasm of someone starving, tongue swirling, moaning like it got her off to feel you twitch on her tongue. When she finally pulled off, spit dripped from her lips, and she wiped it with the back of her hand.

“My turn,” Winter said simply, crawling between your legs. She took you deep in one go, gagging just slightly, eyes rolling up like she loved the stretch. The sounds were obscene—wet, messy, lewd.

Giselle kissed you while Winter sucked. Her hips ground against your thigh, clearly getting off just from watching you fall apart.

Yunjin whispered, “Don’t cum yet. We’re just getting started,” as she climbed onto your lap, lowering herself onto you without warning.

“Y-Yunjin—!”

“Shh,” she moaned, sinking fully down with a delicious whimper. “You feel even better than I imagined…”

The pace was brutal.

They took turns riding you—Winter moaning breathlessly every time she bounced, her voice high and sweet; Giselle dragging her nails down your chest as she fucked herself on your cock like she owned it; Somi grinding until you were begging to come, only to stop and edge you with a smug, cruel pout.

Yunjin whispered filth in your ear the whole time, kissing your throat, nails digging into your back.

“You’re gonna come for us, baby?”

“Fuck look how stretching our pussy baby”

“You want us to milk you dry?”

“Look at how desperate you are…”

“We could keep you tied to this couch all night.”

You were overstimulated—every nerve on fire—but you didn’t want it to stop.

Then Somi bent over on all fours on your coffee table. “One more round,” she said, looking back at you with flushed cheeks. “Use me however you want.”

Giselle bit her lip. “Let’s all watch.”

And they did.

As you fucked Somi hard, her cries echoing off the walls, the other three touched themselves, moaning softly, telling you how hot you looked, how good you made her sound, how lucky they all were.

You came hard—groaning her name, shaking, hips snapping as Somi gasped and pushed back, needing every last drop.

But they didn’t let you rest.

You barely had time to catch your breath.

After Somi collapsed onto your chest—sweaty, panting, and completely blissed out—the other three girls weren’t satisfied. Not even close.

“Up,” Yunjin said, standing at the doorway to your bedroom in nothing but your oversized shirt, which hung off one shoulder and covered just the very tops of her thighs. “You’re not done. Not until we all have you to ourselves.”

Giselle leaned in, voice purring. “One-on-one. No interruptions. You’re ours tonight.”

Winter dragged her nails down your back. “You’ll give us everything, baby.”

You looked at the four of them—flushed, soaked, insatiable—and realized something terrifying and arousing at once:

You were so screwed.

She led you into the room first, locking the door behind her with a smug click.

Yunjin didn’t pounce. She sat on the bed like a queen waiting to be worshipped, legs crossed, lips curled in a knowing smirk.

You stood there, hard again somehow, eyes wide.

She crooked a finger. “On your knees.”

You obeyed.

Her thighs parted slowly, revealing her soaked center. Her voice was thick with want. “You’re gonna use that mouth properly now, baby. Prove you’re worth the mess I’m about to make.”

You leaned in, tongue pressing to her clit, slow and deliberate.

She shuddered. “Fuck—yes… just like that.”

Her thighs locked around your head, hips grinding against your face as she started to lose composure. She tugged your hair, guiding your rhythm.

“You taste so good—you know that? You’re gonna eat until I say stop. And then I’m gonna ride you so hard you’ll forget the others even exist.”

You groaned into her, drunk on the way she moaned, on how wet she was.

And then, just like she promised—Yunjin pushed you down, mounted you, and rode you with a hunger that felt almost feral.

Every bounce of her hips was torture and bliss. She leaned forward, breath hot on your lips.

“You love it when I take control, don’t you?” she moaned. “You’re gonna cum inside me. I want you deep, filling me up, begging me to stop—”

You did.

Hard.

And she made you stay inside until you were soft.

Then hard again.

And came again.

You barely made it to the bathroom to splash water on your face before Winter appeared in the doorway.

“Your turn’s over,” she told Yunjin. “I’m next.”

Yunjin laughed breathlessly and kissed your jaw on the way out. “He’s all yours.”

Winter said nothing else. She just took your hand and led you to the bed.

Then she pushed you down and climbed on top of you in one smooth motion.

Her eyes were sharp, dangerous, but her voice was a whisper. “No teasing. I want you deep. Now.”

She didn’t ride like Yunjin.

Winter sank onto you with a sigh, leaned down to kiss your neck, and whispered filthy, desperate things against your skin.

“You make me so wet,” she breathed. “I’ve wanted this for months… fantasized about how you’d feel inside me…”

Her rhythm was slow but intense. Each grind hit deep, her body trembling with every thrust.

“I’m gonna cum like this,” she gasped, nails scratching lightly down your sides. “With you underneath me, helpless, mine—fuck, you feel so good…”

Her orgasm ripped through her with a strangled moan, legs shaking, lips crushed to yours.

But she didn’t stop.

“I need more,” she whined, moving again. “Don’t you dare hold back on me.”

She milked you—twice.

By the end, you were gripping her thighs, babbling her name, while she smiled, pleased and sweaty, collapsing against your chest.

“Still with us?” Giselle smirked, slipping into the room wearing her pajamas and nothing else.

You nodded weakly from the bed, body wrecked, but cock twitching back to life.

“God, you’re so hot like this,” she laughed, crawling over you. “All fucked out and still so eager.”

She pulled the hoodie off slowly, dramatically. “But with me? You’re not allowed to come unless I say so.”

You groaned, but she kissed it away.

Then she straddled your face.

“You know the rules. Make me cum first.”

You obeyed.

Giselle moaned—high-pitched, breathy, head thrown back. “Shit, fuck, you’re too good at this.”

She rocked against your tongue, grinding until her thighs trembled and her voice cracked.

Then she finally moved down, lined you up, and lowered herself with a moan so lewd it echoed.

She rode you like she wanted to destroy you—fast, relentless, teasing you right to the edge.

“Close?” she whispered, breath shaky.

You nodded.

She stopped.

“Beg.”

“Giselle, please—I can’t—please let me—”

“Say you’re my good boy.”

“…I’m your good boy.”

She smirked, started riding again. “Cum.”

And you did. Hard.

So hard you blacked out for a second.

She chuckled. “One more for good measure.”

She didn’t stop until you gave her two.

You thought you couldn’t go anymore.

You thought you were done.

Then Somi walked in with a bottle of water and a wicked glint in her eyes.

“Drink,” she said, sitting beside you on the bed. “We’re not finished until I say so.”

You sipped, panting.

She took the bottle away, then pushed you flat on your back.

“You remember earlier? When you fucked me on the coffee table?” she whispered, straddling you. “I was just getting started.”

She kissed you—wet, needy, tongues tangling—and then she lowered herself onto you, slowly, moaning.

“Oh my god… you’re still so big,” she gasped.

You grabbed her hips, tried to keep up—but Somi was ruthless. She fucked you like a pornstar—bouncing, grinding, slapping her ass against your thighs with each thrust.

“Give it to me,” she whined, sweat dripping down her neck. “Fill me up—all of it.”

You didn’t know how you had anything left. But her voice, her body, her expression—it forced it out of you.

You spilled inside her as she cried out, her body shaking around you.

But even as you trembled beneath her, she leaned down and whispered:

“One more.”

She made you go again.

And again.

Until you were twitching, panting, empty, wrecked.

When the door finally opened and all four girls re-entered the room, they looked pleased.

You, naked, sprawled across the sheets, sweat-soaked and dazed, could barely lift your head.

Yunjin laughed. “He survived.”

Winter smirked. “Barely.”

Giselle winked. “Better prepare yourself before round three.”

Somi leaned in close and kissed your cheek. “Rest up, baby. You’ve got four girlfriends now.”

You closed your eyes and whispered:

“…I’m never surviving another sleepover.”

Morning.

The sun barely lit the room. Birds chirped. But your body ached like you'd fought off a demon.

Your legs? Weak. Your cock? Surprisingly... hard.

The reason?

Four gorgeous girls, all sprawled across your bed in various states of undress.

Yunjin was on her side, her hand possessively gripping your thigh.

Winter had her head on your chest, soft breath ghosting over your skin.

Giselle slept with one arm draped around your waist.

And Somi? She stirred first, eyes sleepy—but shining with mischief.

“Mmm… morning wood?” she whispered, biting her lip.

You blinked. “…Somehow.”

She grinned. “Guess it’s time for round three.”

Ten minutes later, the girls were awake and eager.

“Let’s make it fun,” Giselle smirked, crawling onto the bed on all fours.

Somi followed, slapping her own ass. “Asses up, faces down. Let him pick.”

Yunjin and Winter looked at each other… then joined in.

Soon, all four of them were on the bed—lined up like sinful dolls, each arching their backs, presenting soaked pussies and tight asses with shameless pride.

Yunjin looked over her shoulder, licking her lips. “You’re gonna fuck every one of us. But here’s the twist.”

Winter smirked. “Switch holes. Every thrust.”

Your cock twitched violently.

“Start with me,” Giselle said, winking.

You walked up behind her, heart pounding.

One thrust. Deep into her slick pussy.

She moaned. Loud.

You pulled out, moved to Somi.

Slid right into her tight little ass.

“Fuck!” she yelped, gripping the sheets. “Oh my god yes—keep going—”

Next, you were inside Yunjin’s dripping cunt.

Then into Winter’s ass.

Then Giselle’s ass.

Somi’s pussy.

Yunjin’s ass.

Back and forth.

Every girl.

Every hole.

Each time you slammed in, they cried out in unison. Gasps. Moans. Wet sounds echoing through the room like music.

You grabbed hips. Spanked them. Heard the slap of skin-on-skin every time you rammed forward.

“Fucking switch again,” Somi whined. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”

Yunjin looked back, sweat on her brow. “Cum in whichever hole you want. But you better use us all.”

Winter was the loudest when you pushed into her ass again.

Her back arched, hands clenched into the sheets. “Oh my god—I’m gonna cum from just this—your cock feels so thick—”

You grabbed her hair, pounded harder.

She screamed, her orgasm gushing down her thighs as you pulled out and moved to Giselle again.

Giselle was panting, tongue out. “In my pussy—fuck me deep this time—”

You obeyed.

She was tighter now, wetter than ever.

You alternated between her ass and her pussy like it was nothing. Each time made her twitch, shake, cry out.

Somi kept reaching back to spread herself for you. “Right here, baby—come on—slam it in—fuck yes—!”

Yunjin?

She looked over her shoulder and begged, “In my ass. I want it rough.”

You delivered.

You felt it building—heat in your spine, balls tightening, everything overstimulated and raw.

But they wanted it.

All of them.

“Inside,” Giselle panted.

“Don’t hold back,” Winter gasped.

“Fill one of us,” Somi moaned.

Yunjin was the last. She turned her face just enough to say, “Come on, baby. Let us have it. Drain those pretty balls and let us feel it leak out of us.”

You slammed into her, into her ass, and came hard.

Your cum spilled down her thighs, thick, hot, messy.

And then—still twitching—you moved to Somi and pushed inside again.

You came again, right into her pussy.

Winter opened her mouth under you, desperate. You knelt over her, jerked, and gave her the third load across her tongue and cheeks.

Giselle?

She sucked the rest from your tip with a filthy slurp and swallowed everything.

All four girls collapsed onto the bed.

Your legs? Shaking.

Your cock? Finally soft.

Their asses? Dripping.

Your room?

Wrecked.

And you?

Dead.

Somi giggled as she curled up beside you. “Same time tomorrow?”

[owuwi]

VI TWITTER LINKS.ᐟ

warnings: twitter porn links, fingering, usage of strap, thigh humping, face fucking, tribbing, rough sex, pussy eating, breast sucking, scissoring

── requested──

♡┃tribbing

♡┃face fucking

♡┃eating you out

♡┃she loves your tits

♡┃she doesn't bother to take your panties off

♡┃ass up face down, that's how she likes you

♡┃fucking you with her strap

♡┃pitfighter!vi taking her frustrations out on you

♡┃she loves when you hump her thigh

♡┃a quickie in the bathroom

♡┃fingering her

♡┃she always wants you

♡┃riding her leg

♡┃she fucks you so well, doesn't she?

♡┃fingering you early in the morning

♡┃no strap? doesn't matter

♡┃scissoring

♡┃fingering you

[cuntphoric]

you’ve been skipping class, flunking labs, and now you’re in his office with a bad throbbing ache between your legs and an even badder grade

you don’t even bother knocking when you walk into his office, because he’s the one who told you to “come in after hours if you want to fix this."

he’s lounging behind his desk like he always is, legs spread wide, shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a sliver of his chest. those ridiculous black sunglasses are perched low on his nose, and when he sees you he smiles.

“look who finally showed up,” he sighed, gesturing lazily to the stack of unfinished lab reports on his desk. “thought you’d given up.”

you shift awkwardly, heart pounding that you swore that felt like . “i just.. didn’t know what to say.”

“good thing you’re not here to talk, then,” he murmurs, pushing his glasses back up. “you’ve been slacking all semester. skipping lectures, half assing labs.. think i wouldn’t notice?”

you try to look apologetic, but it’s hard to think when he stands up and walks toward you, all tall, slow, and hot as hell. he stops when he’s just behind you, so close you can feel the heat of him against your back.

he stops just behind you. doesn’t touch. doesn’t even breathe too loud. but he’s there. close enough to set your skin on fire.

“so,” he says, voice lower now, almost lazy. “what are you gonna do to make up for it?”

you swallow hard. it’s too quiet in the room, and his words feel like a trap you’re already tangled in. “i don’t know,” you mumble, not trusting yourself to meet his eyes. “whatever you think is fair..”

he lets that hang for a second. then laughs softly. “you’re asking me to decide what’s fair?” his breath brushes your neck now, and you feel it—finally, his fingers ghosting over your hip like he’s testing how far you’ll let him go. “baby, that’s dangerous.”

you say nothing. can’t. your pulse is screaming under your skin.

he leans closer, like he’s about to bite out something cruel, but he doesn’t. just murmurs, “you walk in here after weeks of disappearing and tell me whatever i think is fair? you sure you wanna give me that kind of control?”

“i’m here, aren’t i?” you whisper.

his hand finally settles on your waist, grounding, a little too firm. “yeah,” he says. “you are.”

but he doesn’t move. doesn’t do anything, not yet. just lets the tension stretch and snap in the silence, dragging it out because he wants you to squirm.

“bend over the desk,” he says quieter now, “just so we can talk.”

you hesitate this time. you know what he’s capable of when you’re like this - open, stupid with need, desperate for something rough to erase the guilt of failing repeatedly pooling in your chest. but still, you lean forward, hands braced, chest against the desk’s cold edge.

he stands behind you but doesn’t touch. just talks.

“do you even know what you want?” he asks, tone unreadable. “or are you just hoping i’ll figure it out for you?”

your mouth is dry. “i want to fix it.”

he hums. “no, you want to get fucked and pretend that fixes it.”

your breath catches.

“you think showing up wet and pathetic is the same as putting in work?” he presses a hand between your shoulder blades, not to hold you down, but just feel you. “you think that’s gonna cut it?” he sighs.

can this man just do something—

oh. and then—then—you hear the belt.

you don’t hesitate. your hands brace against the cool wood as you feel him behind you, tugging at your waistband, baring you like you’re some toy he gets to play with when the lab’s closed.

and then you hear it. the soft click of his belt.

“count for me,” he says.

the first strike is loud and hot and sharp, making your hips jerk forward and your breath catch in your throat.

“one,” you gasp.

“you can take more than that, right?” he murmurs, and god, he sounds pleased.

he spanks you again, then again, harsh and slow, pausing just enough to let the sting settle before the next. by the seventh you’re trembling, thighs pressed tight, skin burning.

by the twelfth you’re dripping, trying not to grind against the desk to get some- any kind of friction. he leans forward, pressing a kiss just under your ear, voice thick.

“look at you,” he breathes. “all shaky already. i haven’t even fucked you yet.”

when he finally pulls his cock out, he drags the tip along your slit just to pull a reaction out of you and then he pushes in, all at once, no warning, making your body jolt forward as he buries himself deep.

he fucks you like he’s trying to drill the periodic table into your spine—slow at first, grinding deep, then picking up pace until the desk creaks under you. one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping your hip, dragging you back onto him like he owns you.

“gonna fix that grade right here,” he pants. “maybe if i fuck you dumb enough, you’ll stop skipping class.”

you’re crying out now, clenching around him, brain static.

“f-fuck—professor—”

he groans, hips stuttering as he slams into you harder, until your legs give and your moans turn into needy whines. and when he comes, it’s with a low growl and a handful of your hair in his fist, cock buried so deep it feels like he’s made a mark inside.

you stay there, folded over the desk, skin warm and used, every nerve fried and twitching. the world’s gone fuzzy around the edges, and your thighs are trembling, stuck between the aftershock and the hot cum inside.

he slides out antagonizingly slow. his hands stay on your hips a second longer than they need to, thumbs brushing over the marks he left. then he leans in, and you feel the scratch of his stubble as he kisses the base of your spine—soft and mocking.

his voice is a low purr when he speaks.

“look at you,” he murmurs. “can’t even stand up straight.”

you groan, forehead still pressed to the desk, too gone to argue.

he pulls your panties back up with a tenderness that doesn’t match anything that just happened, then palms your ass one last time that felt too smug.

“extra credit approved,” he says, and when you glance back, he’s buttoning his shirt as if he didn’t just rearrange your guts.

the belt’s still hanging loose around his hips. his smile’s a little crooked. and he’s already reaching for a red pen.

[humanjarvis]

alternative medicine

synopsis: after a tough mission, you stop by zayne’s house for a checkup. but caleb thinks you should’ve come to him.

tags: condescending jealous dom caleb, stubborn reader but justified, friendly zayne cameo, caleb’s got a weird scent thing, bickering, massage, groping, cockwarming, riding (forced), non pip-squeak pet names (baby & princess), manhandling, biting, marking, boob slapping, hair pulling, rough…not sex?

pairing: caleb x fem reader/mc

word count: 2.2k 

a/n: yall didn’t think i could still write dom caleb did u. maybe i can’t and this sucks. anyway i have turned the wholesome caleb text above into a monstrosity. if ur partner ever gets jealous when u go to the doctor irl u should ditch them immediately 

The blare of a car horn outside your bedroom window rouses you from a deep sleep. 

Late morning sunlight greets you as you blink your eyes open, surveying the mess you’d left your room in when you’d flopped into bed last night. Clothes, gear, and bags strewn all over the floor…yesterday’s mission had really taken a lot out of you.

And when you try to sit up on the mattress, you find it took even more than you thought.

Because your body hurts. Stiffness and soreness in every muscle, to the point where every movement has your limbs screaming in pain. Even your worst period cramps couldn’t compare to the army of cells trying to tear themselves apart in your body right now.

You’d really overdone it.

Staring at the ceiling, trying not to breathe too hard in case that hurts, too, you rack your brain for options. 

Back to sleep? Back to sleep would be good. Would be great, if you didn’t have plans with Caleb tonight. And flaking out this late would only make him worry. 

Power through it? Maybe. But as you try to rise again, a sharp burn in your abdomen has you gasping and crashing back down. Maybe not.

Medicine? The sensible choice. But you’d been so busy with work lately that you hadn’t been to the pharmacy in ages, and everything you had that might have helped you was expired. 

Lucky for you, you have friends in high places.

“Ow,” you groan, wincing at the sudden pressure on your neck. “Yes, it hurts when you touch there.”

“As I warned you it might,” Zayne replies smartly. “Who was it that requested this exam, again?”

“Sorry,” you grumble, lips tugging into a deep frown. “You’re using your free time to see me, I know. I’ll be quiet.”

Your friend in a high place was off work today, you’d learned when you texted him earlier. And while you’d been more than happy to leave him in peace and let him enjoy his day, when he’d learned of your condition, he’d all but insisted you come over for treatment. 

So with gritted teeth, protesting limbs, and a quick stop to a nearby coffee shop, you’d made the short trip to his neighborhood. When you’d sucked up the pain and knocked on his door,  he’d welcomed you with open arms, especially when he saw the milk tea you’d brought as compensation. 

“You don’t work for the rest of the week, correct?” Zayne asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“Nope. We had it so rough yesterday, Jenna gave everyone a long weekend. I’m free to writhe around in agony ‘til Monday,” you answer, grimacing as he checks your forearms. 

“No need. You have a moderate case of overexertion—which might feel agonizing, but it’s nothing simple painkillers can’t fix,” he decides, stepping away to rummage through a cabinet. 

“Here, take these,” he says, holding out a familiar bottle of medicine. “One pill every six hours until the pain stops. You can keep them for future use, but let me know when you’re feeling better.” 

“Thanks, Dr. Zayne,” you sing, sliding down from his bar stool to give him a friendly hug. As his large hand pats your back, you breathe in his scent: clean and light, with a hint of jasmine. “What would I do without you?”

As you swing open your apartment door and flick on the main light, a hulking figure startles you much less than it should.

Freshly showered and in his nightclothes, Caleb is already inside, flipping through a book as he lounges on your armchair. An hour early, but what did you expect, coming from him?

“Hello to you, too,” you greet him wryly. “Of course you can come in. Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”

“Well, this is my second home. Would be my first, if you’d let me sleep on the couch,” he quips, a boyish grin lighting up his face as he reaches you in four long strides. “Sorry for bein’ so early, pip-squeak. I just couldn’t wait to see you.” 

“Mm, I missed you too,” you admit, standing on your tiptoes to give him a chaste peck. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day—I’m just so tired,” you whine, falling into him dramatically.

A half-second after he catches you, Caleb falters. “Did you go to a cafe today?” he asks hesitantly. “You smell different.”

“…No?” you blink slowly, staring up at him in confusion. “I got some milk tea earlier, but I only went through the drive-thru. What do I smell like?”

“Like jasmine,” he frowns, scanning you with slightly narrowed eyes. 

“Oh, that. I said I was tired, right? It’s because of my mission yesterday. I could barely move when I woke up, so I went to see Zayne earlier. You know he loves jasmine stuff—his house smells like it a little, too. Anyway, he gave me some medicine for the soreness. I’ll probably take some before we go to bed,” you explain, fishing the pill bottle out of your purse and rattling it in the air. 

“His house?” Caleb asks, voice strained with alarm.

“What?”

“You saw Zayne, but not at his office. You went to his house for medicine?”

“Uh, yeah,” you shrug simply, leaving his embrace to stand up straight. “He was off today.”

On Caleb’s face is a mix of disbelief, betrayal, and envy. But you, too busy fiddling with the pill bottle, are too distracted to notice. 

When you look up again, his only emotion is cool, confident resolve.

“Alright then, pip-squeak,” he cheers with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “We gonna watch the movie, or would you rather mess with that bottle all night?”

Your movie night starts off slow, normal, with all the whispered jokes and casual touches of the ones before. 

So when Caleb puts more pressure where his hand rests on your shoulder, you think nothing of it, at first.

But when that hand starts groping and squeezing, fondling your soft flesh under the thin fabric of your shirt, you swivel your head and eye him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Just givin’ you a massage, pip-squeak,” he grins, his murmur barely audible over the gunfire on screen. “You’re still sore, right? Let me help you out.”

Unconvinced, you scrutinize him until his innocent smile dissolves your willpower. “Okay,” you say warily, turning back to face the screen as large hands caress your body. “Thank you. But don’t distract me—this is the good part.”

***

The whole third act of the movie passes, but Caleb never stops. Your shoulders, arms, stomach, hips—every part of you he can reach, pliant under his eager touch. 

And you can’t focus. 

It’s when his wandering hands greedily squeeze the fat of your breasts that you pause the movie with a choked gasp.

“You don’t have to…I’m not sore there,” you chide, cheeks flaming from embarrassment and something more.

“Hm? Is it not helping? With the way you gasped just now, I’d think it felt really good,” he mocks, leaning in to tease you up close.

“It’s not bad. You’re just…being thorough,” you grumble, retreating from his advance.

“More thorough than Zayne was earlier, I hope,” he shoots back bitterly, and it all clicks into place.

Scoffing, you turn to face him fully, making his hands fall to your sides. “You can’t be serious. Of all the things to be jealous of—”

“I’m jealous that my girlfriend would go to another guy’s house for help when she has me on speed dial.” 

“Oh my god, Caleb, you’re not a doctor! I would’ve called you if I needed a ride home or something, not if I needed medical help.” 

“When was the last time you saw a doctor just because you were sore?” he lifts a brow, slowing his movements on your body. “I can help you just like this. You’re feelin’ better since I started, right? I can tell you are. You’re less tense, and you don’t wince when you move anymore. That’s me. Not him.”

He’s not wrong. Since he started his massage, your muscles had relaxed almost miraculously, as if his hands were the antidote to your pain. 

You won’t tell him that, of course. Pride and all.

“I’d be perfectly fine with Zayne’s painkillers,” you snap haughtily. “I don’t need you for everything, you know.”

At that, Caleb freezes entirely. 

But only for a moment.

“Is that so?” he asks lowly, breath fanning the shell of your ear. There’s a threat in his voice. A promise. Things never ended well when he took that tone with you. 

“Wait,” you try to backtrack, nervously bracing your hands against his chest. “I didn’t mean it like that, I-I just—”

Before you can plead your case, Caleb hauls you up and into his lap, molding your back to his front with an iron grip.

“I know exactly what you meant, pip-squeak,” he whispers in your ear. “But I thought you’d be tired of me provin’ you wrong by now.”

As you squirm helplessly in his hold, his hands return to your chest, pulling your shirt up to pluck and grope your tender skin. It’s hardly a massage anymore, with how rough he’s being—rolling your nipples under skilled fingers, tugging them until they ache with pleasure. When he cups one breast with merciless ownership, making your flesh spill out between his fingers, you moan and wriggle in his lap, reigniting the burn in your thighs. 

“Still hurts?” Caleb asks, laying his head on your shoulder tauntingly. 

“N-no, it feels g—”

He cuts you off. “It does, huh?” he pouts with feigned pity. “Poor baby, still so tight…don’t worry, I’ll loosen you up.”

Before you can react, he lifts you slightly to free his hard length from his sweats. Under your skirt, his hand pinches the fat of your ass hard before he slides your soaked panties to the side. 

And then slowly, steadily, Caleb lowers you down on his waiting cock, inch by devastating inch. 

Your mixed gasps fill the room as you adjust to the feel of each other—you suction his length, he savors your warmth.

“This better, princess?” he grits out, one hand still fondling your breast while the other grips your hip.

“Caleb,” you groan, annoyance and arousal blending together. 

He coos in response, pressing a gloating kiss to your hair. “Aw, it is? I know it is.” 

Chuckling breathily behind you, he slaps the flesh of your breast with a reverberating smack, and you squeal as your skin ripples. “He didn’t help you like this, right? I hope he didn’t,” he jeers. “Otherwise, I’ll have to pay him a visit.” 

Hissing at the lingering sting on your chest, you stomp his foot with your smaller one. “You are so childish! It wasn’t like that.” 

“You’re melting around me, baby,” he ignores you, shifting his hips to press deeper into you. “You don’t need those pills, you don’t need him—not while I’m here. I’m the first one you tell. First one you cry to. No one else. Isn’t that right?”

Mewling at the new angle, you shake your head wildly, bringing an arm up to tug at his hair. 

Huffing out a laugh, Caleb sinks his teeth into your neck in warning, sucking harshly before lapping at the mark. “No?” he asks, grinding your hips into his so roughly that stars cloud your vision. 

“When you're hungry, you call Caleb. When you're thirsty, you call Caleb. When you're happy you call Caleb, when you're sad you call Caleb. And when you’re sick, you still. Call. Caleb,” he finishes, punctuating his last command with three punishing thrusts into you. “Say yes.”

Stubborn as ever, you deny him, still squirming in his grasp. But when he bounces you on top of him, forcing your aching thighs and ass against his swollen base in slick, lewd slaps, you lose the dignity you had left. “Yes!” you squeal in submission, digging your nails into his thighs to ground yourself. “Y-yes, I’ll come to you when I need something. Always. I should’ve this time, I’m sorry.”

As soon as the words leave your lips, it’s like the tension in the room evaporates. 

Sighing contentedly, Caleb wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest to lay a kiss on your temple. “I know you are. But it’s okay now, right? Lesson learned for next time.”

“Next time,” you agree dazedly, eyelids drooping as his length still pulses inside you.

“Now, why don’t you pass me the remote? We have a movie to finish.”

The movie ended an hour ago.

But Caleb was far too satisfied watching you doze off on his cock to ruin the moment. 

Now, slipping out of your heat with gentle precision, he gathers your sleeping form in his arms, cradling your head to his chest.

You smell like him now. Good.

Carrying you to your bedroom, he lays you down and slips a loose t-shirt over your head before pulling the covers to your chin.

For a moment, he watches you, a serene smile gracing his lips in the moonlight. 

And then, he dips a hand into his pocket, fishing out the stolen pill bottle and dropping it in the trash.

[charbroiledchicken]

reblog if you're a writer but would rather drink straight cyanide than show any of your family members your work

[pitohuimaki]

can we please clap that not only did i actually complete and post the wips i asked for help on TONIGHT, the same night i asked which one i should post, but it’s also my first time actually writing a bj for those two (i think, between mtjaf, that asuna/eugeo oneshot, other shades of blue, and the requests i’ve been doing, i have written them both blowing literally everyone else but eachother 😭)

[archiveluna]

HOW RAFE FUCKS YOU S1–S4! ౨ৎ

MORE LIKE THIS!

season one rafe seems like the type who would mostly fuck you doggy style with your cheek pressed down against the pillow, his hand on the back of your head keeping you down. says the dirtiest shit ever—probably a little a lot degrading tbh.

when he isn’t off doing crazy shit, season two rafe likes to fuck you in missionary, his eyes intensely fixated on your face and his hands grip your hips so tightly you almost always end up with finger-shaped bruises afterwards. doesn’t talk much but grunts a lot.

season three rafe switches it up every now and then… but he reaaaally likes it when you ride him. he’s so cocky about it too! he’ll be smirking up at you as you bounce on his cock. one of his hands rests on your waist while the other one is pinching and rolling your sensitive nipples. seems like a talker to me! a lot of “yeah?” “there we go” or “just like that.”

and finally—season four rafe. i once saw someone on here say he’d be sorta vanilla, and i actually agree with that take! he also fucks you in missionary, but instead of being sort of aggressive about it, like i imagine season two rafe to be—he’s more gentle in how he takes you. i mean, he’s still balls deep inside of you but he’s moving slowly. and his eyes stay on your face, watching every little expression you make. both his hands are always intertwined with yours, he keeps them pressed down against the pillows on either side of your head and also constantly murmurs little i love you’s.

[mistytanzanite]

Imagine riding Toby into the mattress, bouncing on his cock like he’s a toy. Being so mean and degrading him. His moans are so fucking loud and sweet, those beautiful brown eyes looking up at you like you hung the stars.

Then, you let a little praise slip out and suddenly he’s nutting into you, moans increasing in pitch as his eyes roll into the back of his skull.

Toby loves getting degraded, sure, but don’t praise him unless you want him to nut right then and there.

I haven’t written smut in like a year so its not very good lol