#so here’s some pretty droplet pictures

[katsukikitten]

cum here

Warnings: spit, dub con

A Bakugou Birthday collab read the intro on the ML first!

A notification pulls your attention in your tipsy stupor as you collapse half dressed in your bed. Another successful night out with your girlfriends when your favorite pro hero posts a picture.

A thirst trap no less making you pop up in bed, the room spins delightfully as you stare down at the picture, screen shooting it without a care that he may get a notification for it but you were sure that you wouldn't be the only one.

Bakugou Katsuki, THE Dynamight with his shirt up exposing his abs, his Adonis belt and the vein that leads down to what has to be his fat cock.

You salivate over the thought of it and the several shots of tequila have you feeling bold, although your friends would argue you'd have been this bold sober simply because of how much you spoke about him even if most of the public thought he was an asshole you claimed that's what made him so fucking hot.

Pushing up your tits and angling your phone just right before you snap a photo and attach it to a very public reply before you slip into his dms to send a little something extra.

Bakugou's phone becomes nuclear to say the least, blown up from how many replies and notifications has gotten in such a short time. Each and every woman and the few male prospects are more than attractive and yet none make his cock jump to life, not fully anyway.

Until he sees you, tapping on the picture to make it full screen.

Soft fat tits pressed together, skin aglow in the ambient low light of warm string lights. Tongue lolling past pretty lips, wet muscle most likely fluttering before you took the picture. Obvious that you waited long enough for drool to drip from the tip in a silvery string as some droplets collected on those perfect tits. Pinching his screen to zoom in on your sexy mouth he imagines pressing his angry cock head against before he shoved his length until you gagged around him.

He groans at the thought, zooming out to take in all of you before he finally reads the caption..

Cum here.

“Fuck.” He growls, clicking on your profile, going to privately message you in hopes of more pictures. Palm moving to free his cock from his boxers when he sees you messaged him first.

Sharing your location with the pro hero like a fucking idiot. What if Bakugou had been hacked?

And here you were offering yourself up on a silver platter.

Cum here echoes in his head as he backs out to your selfie and before he can talk himself out of it he's jumping back into the tight black denim that never made it past his thighs.

You lock your phone falling back into your bed after you've seen that he's read your messages. Sighing as you hadn't expected much else, especially since it was his birthday and half of the feed were thirst traps of others tagging Dynamight in hopes of getting his attention. He ignored every single one of them, even from well known models and porn stars, so what chance did you really have?

Still, it was fun to be a little delusional every now and again.

Fireworks echo in the distance and you're surprised the spring festival was going this late into the night. Never one to miss a good show you rise from your bed, topless and half drunk to watch the last of the fireworks before you'd pass out, sleep well past noon before ordering a fat order or take out.

Leaving the sliding glass door open when the cool night air makes you shiver and regret foregoing a shirt. Eyes adjusting to the dark easily but your eyebrow furrows up in confusion. You hear the fireworks but you can't see them.

At least not well, a small orange burst that makes you wonder if maybe they aren't fireworks at all, that maybe it was just a villain making their grand escape.

Scoffing you turn, closing the sliding glass door only for it to be stopped in its tracks. Looking up for see a hulking shirtless man shrouded in darkness on your balcony. Smoke, caramel and whisky envelope your senses as the man breathes evenly behind you. You blink once, twice before you register his eye color.

Toxic, crystalline bromine.

"Dynamight?”

“In the flesh, Sweetheart.” He removes his hand from the frame of the door, takes a step towards you and you step back.

Stalking forward until you're both fully in the room and he delights in the mixture of emotions in your eyes. Fear, excitement, arousal.

“Haaah, what's wrong? Little kitty is acting more like a cornered bunny. Ya scared?” He leers over you, crowding your space, “Shouldn't be. Yer the one who invited the big bad wolf.”

Grabbing onto your chin to turn your pretty face this way and that, he doesn't even need to force his eyes away from your chest, your face captivates him that much. He runs his tongue across his teeth before he smirks.

“Now where am I supposed to cum again?” His large thumb swipes over your plush lips before he shoves it between them, forcing your mouth open.

He tries to recreate the picture you sent him, watches the wet muscle flutter and it makes him salivate. Makes him gather it in his mouth before he's pushing it the tip of his tongue letting his spit hit your tongue.

“Right here wasn't it?” He mixes his spit with yours with his thumb, pressing down on your tongue harshly. He watches your eyes widen before they narrow, into that hungry cat gaze that was in your photo.

Eyes that devour him whole as you hollow your cheeks to suck on his thumb. Swirling it around the digit before you pop off of him, the lewd sound echoing around the two of you.

You're fast, faster than Bakugou, especially drunk, expects. Jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips to make him fall onto the bed with a grunt as your tongue slides into his mouth. He paws at you heavily, grabbing at all your delicious softness as he growls into your mouth, calloused hands still warm from his journey here. Launching himself into the air that did little to sober him after he stalked your profile enough to get your apartment floor and balcony right.

Your claws dig into the nape of his neck as you bring him into a sitting position parting the kiss slowly, letting the silvery string that connects the two of you snap on its own.

“Gonna let me take care of the birthday boy and his special request?” You practically purr, crawling down his body as your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and jeans. All but ripping them from his body even when he lifts his hips to help you free his cock while he grunts out a “‘Course.”

It stands at attention, jumping as your eyes fixate on the one thing you've fucked yourself to the thought of hundreds of times. Drunk all over again, eyes falling to half mast as your hand grips him firmly, listening to him hiss over the contact before you give him a few languid pumps.

Hovering over him for a moment before you look up, watching his pupils blown wide, wider than what they were at the door. Soft almost unnoticeable red tint to his cheeks as he tries to control his breath.

“Try not to fall in love.” You giggle, lolling your tongue out to swipe over the leaking slit in a quick stripe.

“Ya wish, Sweetheart.” But already his head is falling back, hands reaching to grab at your hair before you swipe him away.

Slowly taking him into your mouth, hand gripping what you can't fit into your mouth, letting his fat cock head gag so that your throat contacts the same way your cunt would. Saliva pooling past your lips to coat his shaft, gagging again when you hear him groan before you start a steady pace.

Bobbing your head, alternating hollowing your cheeks and letting him ram into the back of your throat. Giggling when you push his head into the pocket of your cheek, holding eye contact and he reaches down to pull his balls harshly.

He's never been this close to cumming with such little effort.

You let your molars graze him lightly before straightening him in your mouth again. Sure to hit your gag reflex purposefully so that his pre and your spit soak his neatly trimmed pubic hair that's starting to slick to his skin.

If you're lucky he'll stay long enough for your pussy to do that to him too. Cunt neglected as it soaks your underwear as you adjust your weight on your knees for some sort of friction.

Moaning around him when he groans loudly, at his hisses and growls of sugared curses that do nothing but encourage your sinful movements.

Katsuki is panting, the man with all the endurance in the world is fighting the building coil in his lower abdomen and losing.

Bakugou Katsuki never loses but tonight he just might.

Letting his fingers card through your hair before he's pulling harshly, still you don't budge. Lost in your mission to make this last as long as possible by changing from a speed that's bound to make his cum flood your mouth to a slow bob that has you gagging around his sensitive head every time.

Letting your eyes flicker to look up at him and his debauched face, throughly fucked out as his chest heaves eyes fixated on you even as he struggles to hold his head up as if he couldn't bare to look away from.the things you do to him.

The sight is enough to make your eyes flutter, to make you moan around him and the vibrations make his sac tighten, moving your hand so you can shove all of him deep into your tight throat, tears in your eyes that stick in long lashes and fall in fat droplets as you bob on his entire length, once, twice.

And he can't take it, the sight, your eyes all but begging him to cum as you choke yourself on him, as if his pleasure was more important than air.

“Oh fuck princess, just like that.” He groans, cupping the back of your skull as he presses enough to make you gag one last time before he bucks his hips up into you. Starving you of air as your nose is pressed to his pelvic bone while he paints your pretty throat in sticky white cum, your claws digging into the thick meat of his thighs deliciously.

Finally he lets you up and you gasp desperately for air even if you found his aggression as he chased his high undeniably hot. You expect him to smirk, expect him to laugh or to leave pulling up his pants in a hurry but he doesn't.

Instead his large hand grips your chin, pulling you to him as his free hand comes to wrap around your sensitive ribs. Closing the space so that he can kiss you, swiping his tongue over yours shamefully groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself mixed with your spit.

“Fuck.” He pulls you onto the bed, flipping the two of you so he can pin you to the mattress chasing your lips desperately. His other hand has a mind of its own as it rips your panties from your hot core, fingers quick to press and spread your glistening folds. Cruelly avoiding your clit before he shoves two thick digits knuckle deep into your drooling cunt.

Forcing you to arch off the bed, pumping into you with a harsh pace, fingers perfectly positioned to bully that spongy spot that has you seeing stars before he times it perfectly.

Pulling away enough to look you in your eyes before he slowly, roughly, swipes his thumb over your clit and makes you cum in a matter of seconds, faster than any toy. You arch off the bed with a moan so loud you're sure the neighbors know his name now, little do you know what else he has in store.

Removing his middle and ring finger from your fluttering cunt reluctantly, quick to press the digits to his tongue harshly. Smoky caramel fills your senses as his palm heats against the fabric by your head. Leaning over you again to swipe his tongue against yours to taste the two of you melded together in your hot, hungry mouth. He pulls away, hand gently cupping your throat as he holds your gaze, cock heavy and hard again as he aligns it with your still convulsing entrance.

“Sorry Sweetheart, guess I fell in love.” He bullies himself into you in one harsh thrust and you're seeing stars again.

“Now I gotta return the favor.”

[cactuscoolerr]

⋆｡˚. on camera! - itoshi rin

• nsfw

• notes: this is completely based off of a twitter porn vid lol (´∀`) for some reason i watched it and immediately thought of rin.. so enjoy!

• (here’s the video link btw! (≧∀≦)) (pls watch)

rin doesn’t send nudes. he thinks it’s stupid, a waste of time, and a huge risk to his image in case it gets leaked somehow.

nothing could’ve gotten him to send, until you asked in that sweet voice of yours with those pretty eyes one night he was real tired after a long practice. he could hardly resist you after being away from you for nearly a month now. he was growing sick of only being able to see and talk to you through a stupid facetime call.

“i miss you so much, rin rin.. miss your cock and the way you fill me up..” your gentle pout was just enough to make rin cave. his heavy sigh sounded through your phone, making your heartbeat quicken.

rin watched you on his screen, squinting slightly before nodding. “fine. get some sleep and it’ll be sent to you by morning” he spoke, looking around his room to figure out how he’d even take nudes.

you giggled softly and blew a kiss at your screen. “i love you, rin rin” the adorable smile you held on your face melted rins heart. “get some sleep too, okay? i love you so much and don’t want you getting sick”

“fine. you too”

“okay..” you smiled and reached for your phone, angling it slightly upwards, giving rin a view of your tits held by the flimsy white tank top you wore to sleep. “i love you. talk in the morning?”

rin nodded, grabbing his phone with a sigh. “uh huh. love you, hun”

you sent a kiss towards your phone before hanging up and rin set his phone down, still trying to figure out the whole sending nudes thing. he tried remembering when you’d send him nudes. pictures of your gorgeous tits in your bra or a mirror selfie while you were dressed in the pretty lingerie rin bought you.

or even your ruined cunt and fucked out face after you fucked yourself on your favorite pretty pink dildo in front of the mirror in yours and rins shared bedroom.

rin nearly scowled at the thought. it almost seemed effortless, and here he was losing his mind over it.

he stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of his hotel room, glaring at himself for even agreeing to something so stupid. “cant believe i’m even doing this..” rin scowled, pushing his sweats down a little lower than he normally had them to show off just above where his semi hard cock began twitching to life.

phone in hand, rin contemplated taking the picture, his other hand awkwardly hanging at his side. he looked utterly stupid.

with a tired groan, rin dropped his phone on the countertop and stared at himself longer, pulling his sweats back up and going to lay down on his bed, giving up and ready to type out his apology to you.

though, instead of an apology, you woke up -very excitedly - to find a video that rin had sent you. before starting the video, you were met with the image of a body that you knew all too well. the room was dark, a faint light shining on his abs that showcased perfectly the water droplets, likely from his shower.

that alone was mouthwatering as you studied it more, seeing how it cut off right before his long cock was in view for you to see. you almost wanted to call him just to curse at him, though you figured watching the video first might be worth it.

immediately, you could tell that he was close to cumming. with the way his hand frantically moved up and down out of screen, it was obvious that he was growing desperate.

you watched his other hand glide across his body, something you knew made him insanely needy. his small gasps and groans infiltrated your ears, making your breathing grow heavy and your cunt clench around nothing.

the video continued and you pressed your thighs together, practically feeling his desperation to cum while your cunt grew wetter by the second. and you almost lost it when he gasped your name, moaning through soft breaths as his cum coated his delicious abs. you almost wished you were there to lick his cum off his skin, cleaning him off before kissing him to make him taste himself and how perfect he is.

“fuck..” you breathed out, restarting the video and slowly creeping your hand into your panties while propping up your phone to watch your boyfriend cum over and over again just for your pleasure.

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 5

Caught Masturbating with Tommy Shelby

"Caught In The Act"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: Tommy has somehow fallen through time & made a new life in the modern day with you. He wants more than friendship & an awkward encounter makes you confront that idea.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - masturbation, voyeurism, sex toys, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, hair pulling, creampie, vaginal sex, very light dom/sub, a little bit of fluff

Tommy wasn't quite sure what to expect when he opened the door to your small apartment and immediately heard the sound of your voice moaning and whimpering. He immediately went to reach for his weapon, suddenly remembering that he was unarmed. He was still getting used to living in this new century and the fact that he no longer had a reason to be armed.

It was all still a mystery as to how he ended up here. He had no idea how he had taken one breath in 1930 and the next in 2023. Neither did you, but that didn't stop you from helping him. Even though to pretty much anyone else, his story made him sound utterly certifiable. Instead of judging or turning and running the other way, you were kind and caring.

He slowly began approaching your bedroom, and the sound of your voice became louder. The closer he got, the clearer it became that your whimpers were not of pain or fear but of pleasure. He had dreamt about hearing you make sounds like that since the moment he first met you. 

You had been so sweet to him since he ended up here. You showed him kindness in a way he was completely unused to. Allowing him to stay in your spare room and helping him learn to navigate the modern world. He had become quite smitten with you, actually. You had given him the chance of a fresh start. A chance he was determined to seize.

You also weren't afraid of him. You would talk back to him and call him on his bullshit. Your modern feminism serving you quite well when mixed with your sharp wit. He hated to admit that it gave him butterflies when you laughed openly in his face about doing some chore he always thought to be 'woman's work'. He knew damn well you wouldn't be serving him anytime soon, and frankly, he found your demeanor refreshing. 

You were also stunningly beautiful. In a way that was all your own. Tommy Shelby was well accustomed to interacting with and even seducing attractive women. He had been married to two beautiful women. Both Grace and Lizzie were enchanting, but you were a creature from another world entirely. 

All of these things had him utterly spellbound by you. He'd be lying if he said he didn't spend his evenings imagining what it would be like to be yours and for you to be his. He had a suspicion that underneath your sweet exterior was a devil waiting to come out at the most intimate times. He wanted to be the one to unleash it.

He often thought about you sneaking in to join him in the shower after you overheard him stroking himself. Picturing you dropping to your knees in front of him. Staring up at him through your eyelashes. Water droplets starting to roll down your body, your nipples pebbled and at attention from the temperature change. Wanting to help take care of him, since you knew that it was because of you that his cock was throbbing.

It was because of all the fantasies he had about you that he kept walking towards your door. Stopping only momentarily when he saw your door was cracked open. Your voice was now crystal clear as you whined and moaned, but now he could also hear a soft buzzing and a wet sound. There was now no doubt in his mind exactly what you were doing. You were masturbating.

His suit pants tightening at just the thought that he was catching you playing with yourself. He really was trying to turn over a new leaf. To be a better, more respectable man than he had been. He knew that peeking through your open door was the wrong thing to do, but he just couldn't help himself. Not when he was still a devil at heart, and you sounded so angelic.

What he saw when he looked through the cracked door was immediately worth any guilt he may have felt. It was by far the most erotic thing he had ever seen in his entire life. You were naked from the waist down with the t-shirt you had slept in rucked up to expose your breasts. Up on your knees with your face turned to the side and your shoulders pressed down into the mattress, your ass up in the air. Your eyes squeezed shut, and your mouth dropped open. Your hair dishelved and a little sweaty. Both of your hands busy between your legs. 

In his time vibrators and other sex toys were uncommon. Really, they were just being invented. So seeing you with a vibrator in one hand pressed to your clit, and a big fake cock in your other hand  greedily ramming it in and out of your tight little hole was nearly enough to have him cumming on the spot. You were taking what you wanted, what you needed, and doing it with zero shame or hesitation.

He could see the dildo glistening with your slick everytime you pulled it out of your cunt. Judging from the ring of white cream around the base of it, you must have already been fucking yourself for a while. His hand was already moving to palm himself over the fabric of his pants. Gripping his length and wishing his cock was that toy stretching your pussy. Biting his lip to keep from groaning and giving away his presence.

All that went out the window, however, when you started to moan again. Clearly getting closer and closer to another orgasm. Your hips thrusting to meet the toy and the wet squelch of your cunt getting louder. As you chased your climax you started to speak. Letting the fantasy in your head spur you closer to cumming. It was what you said that sent Tommy spiraling further into his own lust alongside you.

His name. You said his name.

"Oh fuck, yes Tommy. Right there. Fuck! You feel so good. Need you to make me cum again."

You said his name while you were fucking yourself with your toy. You were imagining your toy was his cock. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. No, you said you needed him. Needed, not just wanted him.

He felt his member pulse and leak at your admission. Before he even realized what he was doing, he brought one hand up to rap lightly against your doorframe. Officially announcing his presence before moving to open the door wider. It didn't leave you any less startled by the sudden intrusion at such a private moment. 

He couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face as you scrambled to cover yourself. Pulling your shirt back down to hide your breasts and grabbing at the covers to conceal the mess between your thighs. Quickly trying to stash your toys under your pillow. Not that he couldn't hear the wet suction of your cunt desperately trying to hold onto the dildo as you pulled it out. Or your vibrator still buzzing under the pillow that you were now pretending you didn't hear. Not that you didn't look like you had spent the day fucking yourself silly anyway.

He slowly entered your room. Fully aware of the tent in his pants. Knowing that it gave away the fact that he had been eavesdropping on you. His smirk turned into a grin as he saw you notice his erection. Involuntarily licking your lips. Obviously, still in need of satiating your desires despite your embarrassed blush.

"Tommy, I thought you had gone out. How… how long have you been home? … how long have you been standing at my door?" 

His eyes dropped to the floor momentarily, debating how to answer in a way that wouldn't make you think he was a creep. Even though you both clearly desired the same thing. Now he had discovered that he could give it to you, but only if he played his hand diplomatically. 

"I did go out, but then I came back. Decided that I enjoyed your company far more than anyone else I could have run into. As far as your other questions… I was worried when I came back and heard you moaning. I thought maybe you had fallen, but I was obviously very mistaken. You are definitely not hurt, but you do seem to be in need of help. Help that you seem to want me to offer, and it would be remiss of me not to tell you that I desperately want to provide that help. That I think about you at night and wish I could be in your bed instead of my own. That I daydream about fucking you on every surface of this apartment." 

By now, your mouth had fallen open at his admission. Clearly, you hadn't been expecting him to confess all this. He confidently strode closer to your bed, bringing himself to stand right at the edge of the side where you sat. Your eyes roaming his body before eventually falling back to his bulge before quickly jumping back up to his blue eyes. 

"Now, my beautiful girl, I heard you call out my name before. Pretending that toy that you're hiding was my cock. I'd be surprised if you haven't heard me calling out your name as I fuck my own fist. Pretending I'm fucking your pretty little cunt instead. So I think it's safe to say we both want the same things, but I'll ask anyway. Do you want me like I want you?" 

Tommy moved to sit himself down on the bed in front of you. Bringing one hand up to your cheek and letting his thumb pull lightly on your bottom lip. He could see the lust in your eyes, and you quickly nodded your head. Whispering a soft breathy "yes" that made him smile wider because now he knew he could really have you. 

He brought his other hand to your waist and slowly brought his plush lips to yours. The kiss began soft and tender, but before long, it started to become more heated. Both of you starting to feel the need to finally feel each other grow. 

Tommy carefully lowered you down to lay on the bed. Throwing the covers off of your legs so he could run his hands over the soft flesh of your thighs. One of your hands moving to the longer pieces of his hair and the other starting to toy with the buttons on his crisp white shirt. He still insisted on wearing a suit nearly every day, and you were thankful he had apparently already ditched his waistcoat and jacket before he heard you. 

One by one, you undid the buttons on his shirt. Opening just enough that you could slip your hand inside and feel his bare chest. Your fingers dancing over his dusting of light brown chest hair and the edges of his tattoo. You wanted to rip his clothes off and let him take you. To let him bring your fantasies to life, but you knew that before you lost all sense of self-control, you needed to figure out what exactly this was. So you lightly pushed him back far enough to separate your lips from his. Enough to look into his mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Wait, Tommy, hold on. I'm not the person that just fucks people. I'm not good at the no strings attached thing. If that's what you want this to be then we are better off just finishing this each by ourselves. Pretending neither of us ever saw or said anything."

He chuckled at your statement. Not because it was funny, but in disbelief. Could you really not tell the spell you had him under? Did you really think he would spend so much time thinking about you if he only wanted you for a night?

"Oh no, princess, we do this it means you are mine. It means you are mine, and I am yours. Like I said, I want to fuck you and love you on and against every surface of this apartment. That will take far longer than one night. We do this, there is no getting rid of me." 

With that, he forcefully crashed his lips into yours, desperately trying to convey how badly he truly wanted you. The feeling of your fingernails gripping into his back through his shirt only spurring him on. Like squeezing your heels into the sides of a horse, your actions only making him move faster. 

He reached down to pull your leg up over his hip as he continued to kiss you. Moving down to suck and bite at your neck as he ground his pelvis down against you. Automatically, he could feel the heat from your sex through the fabric of his pants and boxers. Reminding him again of how he had found you. How you were still soaked and ready for him. 

A growl fell from his lips as he bit your neck when the sensation of your slick started to soak through to his cock. Rutting his hips into you harder and pulling the most beautiful gasp from you that turned into a wanton moan. Suddenly any trepidation you had been feeling had fled and your animal urges took over. 

You immediately brought both hands to his shirt and proceeded to rip it open. Sending buttons scattering before shoving it back off of his shoulders so Tommy could discard it. He moved on to his pants just as quickly. Getting the button and zipper undone while he took off his undershirt.

You were just able to shove his pants down to his knees when he pushed you back flat on the bed. Quickly taking off his slacks, leaving him in just his boxers before returning all his attention to you. Slowly dragging his hands up the outsides of your thighs to start pulling your shirt up your body. His eyes studying each new inch of flesh revealed to him.

When your shirt was finally high enough to reveal the treasure hidden between your thighs, you thought Tommy might actually start to drool. You were soaked, and your thighs were messy with your arousal. Your clit was swollen and puffy from your vibrator. Your lips flushed and your hole was still gaping slightly from where you had your dildo buried inside of you. The only thing missing from the picture was the sight of his cum leaking out of you. That would have made it perfect.

"Fucking perfect." 

He whispered under his breath before diving down to pepper your stomach with kisses. Biting at your hip bones and stealing a single taste of your cunt before continuing upward. He knew he would be back with his head between your legs later that night. Right now he couldn't wait to be inside you, but he had to finish getting you naked first.

His lips danced over your soft stomach, and his teeth nipped at your ribcage. Nuzzling his nose at the bottom of your breasts as he started to pull your shirt up over them. Keeping his face close to your skin and reveling in your sweet noises. Adoring every part of your body. Smiling against your skin when you finished pulling your shirt off and threw it to the side. Your body finally completely bare for him.

You were getting impatient with his slow pace. As much as you were enjoying his touch, you had been ready for him to fuck you before he had even entered the room. You tried hard to suppress the needy moans that escaped your lips as he studied every inch of your naked body.

"You are even more beautiful than I fantasized." 

As nice as his compliment felt, you were nearing the end of your rope. You needed to feel him inside you, or else you feared for your sanity.

"You've already got me in bed naked and horny, Thomas. You don't have to lay on the flattery. I'm on the pill so just hurry up and fuck me."

You reached down to grab his erection. Squeezing firmly over the fabric of his boxers before shoving your hand inside to start stroking him. Your whimpers were nearly louder than his as you felt every vein on his length and circled his tip only to find him leaking and wet for you. 

Through staggered breath and the most beautiful groans and growls, he finished his thoughts. His hips started to rut into your hand as pumped his cock perfectly. He mentally thanked the advancements in birth control that he wouldn't have to wait or pull out. Although he always preferred bareback anyway, with both horses and women.

"It's not flattery if it's the truth, and it is the truth. Like I said, I've thought about this. A lot. Now, lay back on the bed for me like a good girl."

You did as he said. Pulling your hand out of his boxers and licking the precum off of your fingertips as you laid yourself out for him. Legs spread and back arched in a sinful tableau just for him. Letting him sit back on his heels and study you for a moment. His eyes devouring every inch of you. 

A cocky smirk on his face, he stared right into your eyes as he pushed his boxer shorts down over his hips. His cock finally free and standing proud. Tommy wasn't sure he had ever actually been this hard before, and it was all because of you. It was all for you. 

You groaned at the sight of his thick cock. It was even bigger than your toy was. Biting your bottom lip and grabbing your own breasts. Toying with your nipples as you thought about how good it was going to feel to finally have his cock inside you after all these months of wanting. 

He didn't break eye contact with you as he gripped his length and gave it a few slow strokes. Using the precum dripping for his flushed red cockhead to prepare himself. Enjoying the feeling of you watching him. Especially now that you knew he spent nearly every night doing just that thinking only of you. 

"Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want me to do. Just like you did with that fake cock of yours." 

Tommy descended on you like a predator caging in its prey. His arms braced on either side of your head. His chest pressed to yours. His cock now shamelessly rubbing against your wet cunt. Sliding up and down against your lips and the ridge of his swollen head teasing your clit. You could hear the wet sounds coming from between you. 

The most desperate noise you ever made pulled from your throat before you could answer. Right before you did exactly what he told you and begged for his cock like you had with your toy. Your eyes pleading for him to finally take you.

"Want your cock inside me, Tommy. Need you to fuck my tight little pussy and make me cum. Want to cum on your cock. Want to feel you cum inside me." 

A growl came from the back of his throat. He was very pleased with how you begged for him. He lowered to nip at your bottom lip. His eyes were nearly black with only a sliver of the normal bright blue remaining. 

"That's a good girl. Normally so nice and sweet and proper, but not in the bedroom, eh? I could get very used to hearing you talk like a slut for me."

He brought one hand to drag down your body. Making sure to stop and tug at your nipple before continuing its path between your bodies. Moving his cock so his fat tip sat right at your opening. 

Slowly starting to push inside of you. With how wet you were, he could almost slip right in. Your warmth engulfing him and making him swear under his breath. No one had ever felt as perfect around him as you did. 

"Oh my God, Tom."

You whined at the stretch of him. Even after spending so much time fucking your toy, Tommy still made you feel delightfully full. His length immediately brushing up against your g-spot that was still swollen from fucking yourself. It felt like he was made for you. His slow shallow thrusts immediately starting to push you towards orgasm, and your moans and whimpers starting to push him towards his.

"Can't believe you were holding this perfect cunt back from me this whole time. Well that's not happening anymore, love. I'm never leaving your pretty little pussy ever again." 

His thrusts started to pick up pace when you greedily nodded and agreed. Pushing his hips into yours with more force as he dropped his head to bite and suck at your neck. One hand coming to dig your nails into his shoulders, and the other was moving to pull at the longer pieces of hair on the top of his head. 

Your own hips starting to roll underneath him to meet his thrusts. The sound of your bare skin slapping together starting to echo around the room with the squelch of your wet cunt as an accent. Both of you already breathing heavily. The realization dawning on both of you as soon as your cunt started squeezing his shaft that this round wasn't going to take very long. Tommy could already feel little spurts of precum dripping from his cock into your cunt each time you contracted around him.

"Oh fuck, darling. I'm so close. Where do you want me to cum? Want me to fill you up princess?"

His declaration made the band start to tighten in your low belly. 

"Fill me up, Tommy. Cum in my pussy, baby. I'm close too. Keep talking to me. You're gonna make me cum." 

An evil smirk on his face as he gave up, trying to hold anything back. His hips starting to piston into you. The headboard of your bed beginning to bang against the wall as Tommy began pounding into you. His intense blue eyes locked with yours and his nose nuzzling against you as he spoke. Urging you on.

"That's it, love. Don't hold back. Let go for me. Fuck, you feel so incredible. Thought about this every night and it's even better than I could have imagined. Feel like this cunt was made for me. Is this my cunt? Cum on my cock and prove it to me, love. Cum for me." 

All it took was his order to send you over the edge. Your back arching and a ragged moan pulled from your chest as your body began to shudder. The feel of you cumming allowing Tommy to finally let go. His last few thrusts becoming sloppy as he followed your lead into orgasmic bliss. The feeling of him shooting his warm load inside your cunt prolonging your own orgasm.

After a moment to catch your breath, Tommy leaned down to place another kiss on your lips. Less heated and hurried but no less passionate. Then he slowly pulled out of you and rolled to the side. Urging you to lift your head so he could thread one around underneath and wrap it around your shoulder. Wanting to hold you close but not wanting to smother you. 

When Tommy finally broke the silence, it startled you a little. Part of you had still expected him to just get up and leave. You certainly weren't expecting him to say what he did. 

"Thank you."

You couldn't help the guffaw that came from your body. Quickly elaborating before he got the wrong idea from your reaction.

"For what, fucking you?"

Luckily, he seemed to find your response funny and gave a chuckle of his own before he elaborated. His voice getting softer as he let down his armor, something he had rarely done before, and let you inside. Rolling over to face you and wrapping one atm around your middle to pull you closer to him. His aquamarine eyes were bright and clear as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"For everything. So technically yes, thank you for fucking me, but more than that thank you for everything else you've done for me. For letting me stay here despite having no idea where I was or how I got here. For trusting me when I know others told you not to. For teaching me how to navigate this world. For giving me a chance. For all of it. Thank you." 

--------------------------------

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[grunckle]

Qualia and Ascension in Rain World

(To clarify I'm mostly talking about base-game lore and not including Downpour, but honestly most of these things can transfer over)

Qualia

One thing that’s relatively hidden in Rain World’s text and subtext is the concept of qualia. Qualia is described as being, “sensory experiences that have distinctive subjective qualities but lack any meaning or external reference to the objects or events that cause them.” It’s a personal sensory experience that cannot be comprehended by another person other than the individual themself, and are often hard to convey via language.

Qualia is a reoccurring motif in Rain World, but what’s more important is the way in which it’s conveyed to the player. The picture that’s painted is that of a world or civilization that placed a great importance on the individuals’ experience, and it’s shown through pearls or environmental details.

Here are some examples of qualia appearing in the text through pearls.

“It's qualia, or a moment - a very short one. Someone is holding a black stone, and twisting it slightly as they drag their finger across the rough surface. The entire sequence is shorter than a heartbeat, but the resolution is extraordinary.”

“A memory... but not really visual, or even concrete, in its character. It reminds of the feeling of a warm wind, but not the physical feeling but the... inner feeling. I don't think it has much utility unless you are doing some very fringe Regeneraist research.”

“This one... is authored by Five Pebbles, when he was young. There has been an attempt to scramble the data, but it's sloppily done, and most is still somewhat legible. It's written in internal language, or thoughts, so it is hard for me to translate so you would understand.”

But the most prominent examples of qualia and it’s importance in this world are the Memory Crypts and possibly ancient naming conventions. The deep purple pearl (shortened) found in Shaded Citadel states,

“In this vessel is the living memories of Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel, of the House of Braids (…) Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel nobly decided to ascend in the beginning of 1514.008, after graciously donating all (ALL!) earthly possessions to the local Iterator project (Unparalleled Innocence), and left these memories to be cherished by the carnal plane. The assorted memories and qualia include:”

Ancients likely mutated their own neural tissue into the cabinet beasts we see in Shaded, which were used to store their memories and qualia before ascension. Even james said once "how 5 pebs got the rot is a good hint here" in response to someone asking how cabinet beasts work, and how they're made.

Adding on to this, ancient (and iterator) naming conventions seem to be built off of the concept of qualia, with them focusing on individual images or experiences.

Nineteen Spades, Endless Reflections

Droplets upon Five Large Droplets

Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets

Looks to the Moon

Generally, this all points to a world focused on the expression and preservation of the individual experience. You could even consider some of the echo dialogue as more evidence for this running motif, but I already have too many quotes lol.

Ascension

So now time to talk about my interpretation of ascension. In short, you turn into a worm, but I should probably explain more than that.

So its been surfacing on rw-tumblr that the light in the end of the game is called the egg in files. Although file names shouldn't be taken as fact or canon, it is pretty obvious given the birth imagery.

But something a little lesser known is what happens to the worm that takes us down to the void-sea depths. Void worms normally have a bright glowing effect, on their body, which is present for ours as well. But after it unhooks us, it swims down, and when it passes us on it's way back that glowing effect is gone.

To be honest, I don't really think this can be interpreted in many ways, but the most obvious one and the one I personally subscribe to is that the worm laid the egg. Biology and spirituality really aren't that different in Rain World, it's implied that karma is stored in the brain through Five Pebbles's slideshow. Adding on to that, we see voidspawn after eating an iterator neuron. One's spiritual state is innately tied to their mental state, and that dictates what and what they can't perceive.

And for that reason I decide to take a more biology leaning approach to what happens in the ending. At face value, we are fertilizing the egg of a void worm to be reborn into a voidspawn.

Not only do void spawn and void worms have multiple characteristics in common, (worm like bodies, tendrils/tentacles, glowing heads, void spawn look microbial and void worms are likely some of the oldest "life" in game)

but voidspawn are seen inside egg-like coverings and share the same egg light seen in the end of the game, confirmed to be the same thing by Videocult in a livestream they did.

I believe that all this points to ascension being re-birth into a voidspawn, which eventually undergoes metamorphose into a worm. Higher-dimensional beings, who manifest and give birth to a new world.

So how does this tie in with qualia? Another thing you might know is that the area in which void spawn are most plentiful is Shaded Citadel and areas in Shoreline near Shaded. And shaded is absolutely packed with Cabinet Beasts, even outside Memory Crypts. I believe these qualia-storing creatures are what manifest voidspawn.

From what we see in ascension, it still looks physical and largely based around the real world. Hunter still has his scars and see's an iterator, survivor sees the slug tree in a more mystical and formless state, and monk sees survivor frankly just looking like a normal slugcat. I think that ascension is a product of qualia. We transcend our earthly knowledge via the egg, and our own qualia is used to give birth to a new world. This is why voidspawn appear most in Shaded Citadel.

Now I won't be getting into Void-Worm theories too much here, I'm mostly focused on ascension but I can't ignore the Gnosticism parallels. For those who don't know, Void Worms heavily resemble the Yaldaboath from Gnosticism, along with sharing some similar celestial motifs.

and running with that some people theorize that, like the Yaldabaoth, void worms are responsible for manifesting the material world. Ascension seems to be a mix of the concepts of Gnosis and Nirvana, but I believe it might lean more on Gnosis.

From my limited knowledge, Gnosis is a few things, some of which being a state achieved from experiences or intuitions, and an essential part to salvation is personal knowledge. While researching a bit, I came across this text by Peter Wilberg called "From NEW AGE to NEW GNOSIS" which brings up some comparisons between Gnosticism and qualia as well.

"Gnosis is subjective knowledge of an inner universe made up not of matter, energy, space or time but of countless qualitative spheres or ‘planes’ of awareness – a knowledge obtained directly through inter- subjective resonance. It is the subjective science of this inner universe."

One thing though that has been brought up when discussing this is how this can be consolidated with the tone of the ending. It is pretty un-ambiguously happy, but if we're going with the Void worm Yaldaboath theory then that would put a bit of a sour twist on it right?

I agreed with these for some time, but now I actually think it ties in perfectly with Rain World's core themes as stated by the devs, "overcoming differences and finding empathy." I don't think the void worms are "evil" or malevolent, but I think they (and subsequently us after ascending) play a key role in demonstrating this theme.

By manifesting the physical world, we allow these souls to experience life and develop their own qualia so one day they can ascend themselves. We are shown compassion, and pass it forward.

[canisalbus]

might be an odd question, but i have a theory after noticing trends amongst artists iv known in my life and SO FAR it's rung true so im expanding sample size

IDK if u know what aphantasia is already so I'm including reference [forgive me if uv already spoken abt this also]

Where would u say u fit on the scale?

For me I cannot see an apple, I know I am supposed to, or I will see concepts of it [like how the flesh is shiny and holds water droplets but i do not SEE it nor can i hold a clear visual of anything in my mind for that matter it is always flashing IDEAS like components of a visual, never the whole thing]

I'm asking because of people I've asked about this, there's a quality of their art that [i dont know how to put into words WHY] reminds me of each other, and I'm wondering if u will give me the same answer they have because I am a curious little bastard

I'm pretty sure I'm 1? I think I might have one of those brains that operate mostly on visuals. I don't need to close my eyes to see the image in my mind, it just sort of "opens in a different window" and I'm looking at reality and the mental image simultaneously.

It's never a flat picture, I see a 3D model of sorts, and I can rotate it around, cut it into pieces, look "through it" to see it from outside and inside at the same time, and arrange it to different poses if it's a character. Sometimes when I'm drawing something, I imagine what it would feel like to touch it and hold it in my hands, and that helps me to figure out how to convey a better sense of volume and tangibility.

I also think in images (or, like, gifs?) and I've never had an internal monologue. It surprised me when I heard that some people actually have a narrator in their heads, I can't imagine what it's like.

It's not always fun though, sometimes I get pretty nasty intrusive thoughts and they come in forms of vivid and very unpleasant mental images. Like visiting a relative's grave and being hit with a crisp picture of their decomposing body. Or getting those "I could walk in front of that car/ jump down from here" call of the void thoughts and instantly getting a brain illustration of it playing out from an onlooker's point of view and what the aftermath would look like. They're most distressing when it's bad things happening to someone I care about, for example I have a really persistent one about accidentally slamming a door on my cat and seeing him crushed and dying.

Oddly enough it doesn't extend to all visual thinking. My mind's eye and visual memory work well, but I also have severe face blindness and practically nonexistent ability to form mental spatial maps of my surroundings.

[sunniskyies]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Here !! 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: More than a year after your unexplained disappearance, Percy finds you again on a rainy Christmas night. 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: book!Percy Jackson  x Calliope!fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of grief? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff, Reunion trope, kind of established relationship 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k 𝐀/𝐍: IT’S BEEN OVER THREE MONTHS SINCE I GOT THIS REQUEST I'M SORRY— SCHOOL. I’ve ended up changing this rec quite a bit, but I hope those reading still enjoy it <3

It’s not that Percy didn’t like the rain, it’s just there was so much of it. Fat droplets hung from his skin and hair, Manhattan lighting him up like a disco ball. His jacket and shirt were saturated, and his fingers were so frigid they struggled to remain clutched around his skateboard and the brown paper bag. Percy Jackson, Son of the Sea God, thwarted by winter weather.

He should have been back at home half an hour ago, well before the Christmas rain had come. But his route home from the skate shop passed by a bakery, and the smell of fresh madeleines had stopped him in his tracks. A ripple of emotion sank through his body at the familiar scent, one he hadn’t smelt in well over a year. His neighbourhood didn’t have any proper pâtisseries, so he’d never had to smell the baked good, as they were never made. This batch must be some kind of Christmas special.

He slowly turned to look in the window, the warm light cutting through the twilight and sinking into his tan skin. He took a deep breath and pushed inside to the toasty interior.

The bakery was contentedly full; a mother grinning as her two young children excitedly pointed at items in the cabinet, a businessman buying holiday treats for his family, two teenage girls hip-to-hip sipping hot cocoas and kissing chocolate mustaches off eachother. Percy’s green gaze drifted behind the counter where a young baker held a tray of sugar-encrusted madeleines.

The picture of a girl his age slipped uninvited into his mind, as the memories always did. She was curled up in a nest of duvet and quilt, nibbling a madeleine with a book propped up on her knees. Percy’s nose was buried in the hair around her neck, reading lazily over her shoulder with sleep-heavy eyes.

“They’re the best! They’re hand-sized and not messy, so you can eat them while reading!” The sweet-toothed girl had told him once. Ever since then, Percy had made the effort to ask for the little cakes from the camp kitchen and sneak the contraband back to her. He was rewarded with kisses that tasted like brown sugar and lemon, and gooey eyes that left the pages for a moment.

The haze of remembrance cleared, and Percy Jackson was standing in a hole-in-the-wall Manhattan bakery once more. The room was oven-warmed, but he now was cold from the inside out, a hunger that couldn’t be satiated even if he ate every baked treat in the shop. 

The mother and her sons passed by him, their laughs disappearing back into the evening, the open door cooling the space a fraction. Percy took another steadying breath and approached the counter.

“Four madeleines, please.” For old-time’s sake.

The detour had cost him his dry clothes. The rain had started coming down pretty much as soon as he left the bakery, and here he was, soaked and clutching a brown paper bag of sponge cakes he wasn’t even sure he would be able to choke down.

He held the parcel beneath his damp jacket, not wanting to lose the precious smell. Most shops in this neighbourhood had shut for Christmas, so he was surprised when he turned a corner to find the dark street bearing a pool of warm light.

The light belonged to an old, second-hand bookstore. He’d never seen it here before. Similarly to the bakery, its glow was enticing. Percy’s jaw clenched, and he looked up to the sky, thinking. The raindrops seemed fatter still. He was almost home, but this weather was miserable. Surely he could step inside for a moment, dry off and then walk the rest of the way? Something about the shop was drawing him in inexplicably.

He really hoped this shop wasn’t a trap, and that he’d just simply never noticed it before. He didn’t feel like fending of monsters tonight, but his fingers still danced over his pocket where Riptide was nestled as he jogged up the door and walked through the door with a cheery ‘ting’ of the bell.

It smelled like old paper and that scent you find when you press your face into a woollen garment and inhale. Like home and libraries and textbooks. The air was chilly, only a rattling little heater sat in the corner trying to warm the space. A space that seemed… bigger on the inside than it had from the street. Percy drifted over to one of the towering shelves, lined with old tomes. His dark eyebrows furrowed as he ran a calloused finger along a bevelled spine. It read:

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬; 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡; 𝐀 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Except the title was written in Ancient Greek.

Percy could read it fine, the question was what was it doing here? As he looked at the rest of the shelf, he realised every single one was written in Greek. They had classics like Homer, but also creative pieces and essays and thesis’ and novels. It was identical to a normal indie bookstore, just in Ancient Greek.

Percy was so absorbed in examining the spines that he didn’t notice someone coming up beside him.

“How can I help you?” A girl's voice spoke. “Oo! Are those madeleines? I adore madeleines!” Percy jumped and whipped around to see a young girl with a sparkly smile and warm, sugary eyes. When their eyes met, however, both faces slackened. Who recognised who first one couldn’t say, but both felt that familiar ache erupt alongside a chariot-full of unidentifiable feelings.

Her hair was different, and she wasn’t wearing that too-big orange shirt, but he’d recognise that girl anywhere. In a heartbeat. For the rest of time. Undoubtably, wholly, you.

You.

A squeak slipped from your lips, your e/c eyes as wide as the moon. Distantly, Percy heard the thud as the skateboard and paper bag slipped from his hand, but all he could comprehend was the sight of you standing in front of him. For the first time in his life, it felt like his ADHD brain shut off, everything around him dimming into a blurry vignette, your face in stark clarity. You were saying something, he knew that. Your lips were moving fast, eyes flickering. An explanation, maybe. An apology for running away without a word. But Percy couldn’t care less at that moment, only thinking about how you’re alive, you’re alive, you're alive.

He could feel his feet taking him closer to you, and yours carrying you backwards.

“Please, Percy! Say something!” He heard you plead, your fingers twisted together painfully. “I’m sorry I did it, but you understand right? You have to un—”

Rain-cooled fingers slipped amongst your hair, flushed lips crashing into yours. One arm cradled the small of your back, battle-strong and intent on holding you close to him.

Explanations can wait. Apologies can wait, the arguments can wait. All that mattered was that the ache was over, Percy thought giddily. That grief that had stained every inch of him was washed off with one glance of you. 

Even without the madeleines, you still taste sweet. Like citrus and sugar. Your skin smelt like parchment and enchanted Greek ink, a scent lingering from hours pouring over a typewriter. His face pressed so close into yours, he could almost smell every word you had written.

What were you thinking? Is this okay? His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could feel it, but your arms were around his neck and your breath was pooling together, damp clothes pressed against dry. Twin flames flickering together.

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

[lokis-army-77]

Pretty Girl and her Hoodie Guy

Modern!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 2.4k

It was supposed to be a sunny day until it wasn't, but that's okay because maybe love is right around the corner... or the bus stop.

Warning: E for everyone!! This is just really cute and if you don't read it I'll be very mad at yall >:(.

The first part of this is based on some pictures I saw on tiktok but I totally forgot to save it so I could give credit for the idea that it gave me.

Masterlist

It has rained almost every day in Chicago for nearly a week. So, the one day the weather forecast called for bright sunny skies and nearly eighty-degree weather, you decided to leave your umbrella in your apartment along with your umbrella. 

The bus ride to campus was dry as could be, the weather was perfect and the slight breeze tickled as it made your skirt flutter around your thighs. The walk to class after getting off the bus was also crystal clear, not a single cloud in sight and the sun beat down brightly, you were thankful for the shade of the trees. 

Three hours later, as you exit the English building, you notice it has gotten darker, clouds have begun to roll in. You sigh as you begin walking to the bus stop, hopeful that the weatherman was still correct about having no rain. 

You and the meteorologist were both proven wrong when, halfway to the bus, the bottom fell out. Big, heavy droplets of rain started pouring down out of nowhere, almost instantly soaking you to the bone. 

You begin to run as fast as your bag full of books and laptop will allow. You can only pray that the rain hasn't seeped through your backpack and ruined your things. 

The bus stop is only a couple more feet away and when you make it under the awning you have a breath and set your backpack down on the bench. Today was such a bad day to wear a white shirt. The water had made it nearly see-through. Your white bra practically shining through the thin cotton fabric like a spotlight was on it. 

As you try to squeeze the water out of your clothes you hear a deep cough, like someone clearing their throat. You look up. To your left is a guy, he's tall with shaggy hair and bangs almost covering his eyes. He's wearing a black hoodie and black jeans even though it had been almost eighty-three degrees mere hours ago. Your eyes catch on the glint of piercings in his ears before they wander to the peak of a tattoo showing just above the collar of his hoodie. 

He looks at you with impossibly big, brown eyes, something you'd imagine only a puppy or a newborn baby to have. 

"Here." He says before tugging the hoodie off. The way he reaches up and grabs the back of the garment to take it off has the shirt under it riding up. You can see an expanse of ivory skin covered in charcoal-black lines, tattoos. They cover almost every inch of skin and you suspect they go farther down, past the waistband of his jeans. 

He shakes the hoodie out in front of you and you hesitate to grab it so he forces it into your shivering hands. The rain and the sudden drop in temperature are making you freeze. 

"Put that on. It'll keep you warm and away from prying eyes." His smile is big and bright as he watches you put his clothes on. 

It's big on you, more than big, enormous. What was a perfect fit on him, swallowed you whole. The hem came down almost to the back of your knees and the sleeves might as well have been a mile long. 

"Thank you," you say softly with an even softer smile back at him. 

"No worries." He then points at your hand and motions for you to reach it out to him. So, you do, without hesitation. 

He grasps your hand in his and with the other, rolls up the sleeve. He then produces a pen from seemingly thin air and scribbles something down. 

When he lets go of your arm, you hold it up. 10 scratchy numbers are etched over your forearm as well as a name. Eddie. 

You go to ask him why he's given you his number when he beats you to it. 

"Call me. I'll be needing that back." He grins, holding his fingers like a phone to his ear. You can't help the shy giggle that leaves you. 

The guy, Eddie as you have just learned, then sprints through the rain and into the bus you hadn't even realized had stopped moments before. 

He leaves you speechless and giddy. Butterflies are fluttering around in your stomach, making you dizzy. You have to sit down or else you think you might faint. 

Never have you had an interaction like this. Something so simple and sweet. He drew you in front the first second you laid eyes on him. 

It only takes you a few minutes to remember to come back to reality. Quickly you put his number in your phone under "hoodie guy (Eddie)" 

.... 

It's a few days later when you finally work up the courage to call hoodie guy. It’s maybe three in the afternoon and as the other line rings and rings your nerves begin to eat at you as you wonder if he did really want you to call him, maybe a text would have been better. 

Your thoughts are cut short when a rather chipper voice answers. “Y’ello?”

“Hi, is this Eddie?” You swear your anxiousness can be heard in your voice. 

“Yeah… and who is this?” He questions. 

“Oh, um. This is the girl you gave your hoodie to the other day, remember?” 

“I remember you.” You could almost hear the smile stretching across his face. “Was beginning to think you wouldn’t call.”

You had it bad. Really bad. Just speaking to him for these few seconds had your heart racing. “Sorry about that. I wanted to wash it before I called.” You give him your name then, shyly introducing yourself. 

He chuckles in response, “Pretty name for a very pretty girl.” 

You’re glad this is a phone call, otherwise, Eddie would see how badly you are blushing. Your face is white hot and beet red, a dead giveaway to how this stranger has totally smitten you with two limited interactions.

You don’t realize you have been quiet this whole time until Eddie speaks up once more. “Hello? You there pretty girl?"

"Y-yeah," you stutter. "I'm here." You blush impossibly harder. 

"Would you like to meet me at the coffee shop by the bus stop we met at? It'll be my treat." There's a hopefulness to his question. 

You nod only to realize he obviously can't see you. "Yes," you answer. "I'd love to."

"Great! Can you be there in thirty?" 

"Sure. I'll head that way now."

Excitedly you begin to get ready, putting way too much effort into your outfit, but hey it's not wrong to want to look good for the guy you find insanely attractive.

… 

Thirty minutes later you are walking into the coffee shop dressed up in a cute, green corduroy pinafore dress, perfect for the upcoming fall weather, and a giant hoodie in your grasp. 

You don't notice the large guy coming up to your side until he's poking a finger into your shoulder to grab your attention. 

You jump at the sudden poke and turn to face the culprit. 

"Oh'" you say surprised. "Hi."

"Hi." He smiles back. "I'm sitting over there if you want to take a seat. What do you want to drink?"

You're quick to shake your head. "You really don't have to do that. I can pay for my part." You start fumbling for your card in the back of your phone case. 

He places a hand over yours. "I insist. What would you like?”

It doesn’t take much for you to give in and tell him your go-to order. After he repeats it back to you, you head to the table by the window Eddie had pointed to. His denim jacket was hung over the back of the chair, leaving you the booth seat to settle into. 

The cafe is relatively empty, save for the two baristas behind the counter and the older man seated at the corner table reading a book, so it doesn’t take long for Eddie to come back with two coffees carefully balanced in one large hand and a plate with a warm croissant. 

You try to help him but he tuts you away, quickly saying, “I got it, I got it.” He sets the plate down first before placing your glass in front of you and his before him. Then, he sits. 

You both take slow sips from your coffee and as he looks intently at you with those eyes, you try and avoid them. 

“This is for you.” He pushes the bread in your direction with the knuckle of his forefinger. 

“I- thank you.” A fierce blush starts to creep up your neck and you busy yourself by drinking some more.

You know that Eddie can tell you’re nervous. Who wouldn’t be able to tell with your seldom eye contact and soft, stuttering words? He starts the conversation off slow, easing you into a more comfortable state, you’re grateful for it. 

Questions like “How’s your day going” to his only little version of twenty questions finally get you to break out of your shell. He makes you laugh, a lot, to the point your stomach hurts and your muscles ache. 

Conversation flows easily after the initial bump in the road. You’ve talked about college and life after; he’s studying in the music department with plans to eventually become a professional musician. He tells you about his dreams and ambitions and you can’t help but feel inspired. You tell him about the book you would love to write one day and he listens intently. He even asks questions and refers to things you stated previously in the conversation. Never have you had such a connection with anyone, not even your closest friends. 

Eddie is so charming and witty that it barely even registers when both of your hands meet in the middle of the table. His larger fingers play with your smaller ones and you converse in your own little world. 

You’re only broken from your state of enchantment with the other when a cafe worker approaches you.

“I’m sorry guys but we close at four on Sundays and it’s ten till.” The worker gives you a strained smile, the underlying message, “Please leave.”

You gasp in shock. “How have we been here for three hours?”

Eddie looked at you, just as surprised. “Well, time does fly when you’re having fun, pretty girl.” 

You shake your head. The complement turned pet name making you blush every time he said it but not as hard as when your name rolled off his tongue. 

“Come on,” he says, standing to his feet. “I’ll take you home.”  He reaches for your hand and pulls you up after you quickly gather up your purse and his hoodie. 

As you walk out, you both apologize profusely to the two workers for staying right until closing. 

“How are you gonna take me home?” You ask. “You took the bus the day we met.” You really didn’t want him spending an extra bus fare just to escort you home.

He gives you a lopsided grin. “I took the bus 'cause I had an inkling not to listen to the weather. This is my usual ride.” Eddie arcs his hand out in front of you both, gesturing to the sleek black motorcycle resting by the curb. 

“Woah. That is actually really cool.” You gush. You had always wondered what it would be like to ride on a motorcycle. 

Eddie reaches out and grabs the helmet strapped to the seat and hands it to you. “Wear this.” 

“What about you?”

“You’re precious cargo, far more important than me.” He answers before helping place it over your head and buckle it under your chin. Then he takes his hoody from your arms and ties it around your waist. “That should cover you up enough.” He gestures to your dress. You hadn't even thought about that detail and his mindfulness had you swooning. 

He gives you a small but thorough lesson on what you do as a passenger before getting on and then helping you on after. 

He drives slowly, taking less busy streets to the address you gave him, and the whole time you cling to him. Your heart beats wildly in your chest at the feeling of freedom as the wind whips around you. Every so often, Eddie will reach for your hand at his waist, or when you are stopped at a red light he automatically reaches back to cup your legs, fingers dragging up the back of your calves. 

You’re sad when the ride comes to a stop outside your apartment building. You are slow you follow him off the bike and even slower to let him remove the helmet. This amazing time was coming to an end and you desperately didn’t want it to. 

You can feel his calloused fingers tickle your chin as he undoes the strap. He’s careful to pull the protective gear off, fixing the strands of hair that fall out of place when he’s done. You cherish the warmth coming from his palm and it really feels like he’s about to kiss you. And you wouldn’t mind if he did. No matter if you only just met him or if this seemed to be moving fast, you wanted to know what those plump lips felt like on your own. 

He leans in and your breath hitches in your lungs, your eyes close as you prepare with the one thing you need at this moment. Only, Eddie doesn’t kiss your lips, instead, he places a gentle peck on your cheek. You deflate, sad his target was somewhere else. 

“Eddie?” You ask softly.

“Yeah?” He mutters your name, eyes staring into yours. 

“I had a great time.” 

“Me too, pretty girl.”

“Thank you for bringing me home.” 

“You’re welcome.” He backs away from you and you frown just a bit. “You should get inside.” 

“I should… I’ll text you?”

“Nothing I’d want more.” He slides his leg back over onto his bike and you turn to walk away.

“By Eddie.” You only get a few feet before you pause. “Oh, wait.” You untie his hoodie from your waist and rush back to Eddie’s side. “Here.”

He shakes his head. “You keep it. Looks better on you than it ever will on me. Plus, it’ll give me a reason to come see you again.” 

You become shy again and the mention of seeing him again, hopeful that this wasn’t just a one-time thing to get his clothes back and that he will answer when you text or call him.

“Bye, pretty girl.” He grins and you watch him put his helmet on but he doesn’t leave just yet. No, he only leaves after he sees you enter your building and you waive to him from beyond the glass door. 

[saturnville]

ii hands ii heaven, l. hamilton

pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x she (black!fem!reader) warning: suggested sexual situations content: in which two newlyweds bask in the essence of one another. an: don't ask me what I know about LH44, I'm not gonna front and act like I know this man like the back of my hand. I saw some videos, watched some interviews, read some fics, and now we're here. just know I wanted to write & I pictured him for this fic lol. hope y'all enjoy

Soft mewls flowed from her parted lips like a waterfall. Her noises dove and crashed into the deepest oceans of their devotion. The intimacy of the moment was deep. They welcomed themselves to drown in it, leaving air at the surface and choosing to inhale the breath of adoration the other exuded. 

With the soft light of dawn peering through the curtains, their bodies wove together like yarn, knotted together and unable to be untangled. As he whispered sweet sentiments against the shell of her ear, the remnants of the outside world faded away.

The desperation for one another flowed between them like lava, further igniting their passion and desire. They moved together in a unified harmony, exploring all the other had to offer. Tender affection and unrestrained passion were their portion. Each fiery touch, each delicate kiss was an unspoken promise of the depth of their love. 

When the heat of passion began to cool, they stayed wrapped in the warm embrace of one another; damp bodies pressed against each other like glue. On their lips were smiles fueled by dopamine. Low eyes filled with adoration. 

“Hi,” he spoke softly, his breath warm against her lips. She giggled like a lovesick teenager and whispered back, bringing her trembling hand to his face, drumming her finger over his bitten and swollen lips. “Let’s get ready, yeah?” 

She nodded slowly, her face lifting against the pillow as her head moved. She sat up slowly, her wince falling on the ears of her lover. He swiftly wrapped his arms around her and swept her off the warm bed. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Baby!” 

He hummed softly and placed her on her feet. His tattooed arm opened the shower door and turned the handle. He waited for the water to warm before ushering her into the shore with a tap against her bottom. She scolded him playfully, “Hands to yourself.” 

“I’ll try my best.” 

What was intended to be a quick cleanse turned into a thirty-minute shower with heavy droplets against their bodies as she was pressed against the glass, heaving as the humidity invaded her throat. Goodness, they’d be so late. 

They couldn’t keep themselves off of each other. His zipping the back of her dress led to his fingers brushing her hair off her neck and tracing the placement of her dark locks with his lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed as her hands gripped the edge of the counter. He would be the death of her. 

Her tongue darted out and slid over her swollen bottom lip. His hands began to wander over the perfectly fitted dress. It was the prettiest emerald green shade and complimented her skin's richness wonderfully. Every curve, riff, and ridge was accentuated. She looked beautiful. 

“Okay, okay,” she whimpered, pressing her hands against his thigh. “We gotta go, baby, we gotta go.” She turned in his arms and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. His chest, decorated with tattoos and the finest of jewelry. 

“You look stunning,” he whispered, caressing her waist. “So pretty.”

She smiled bubbly and pecked his lips, “Thank you kindly.” Her hands smoothed out the thick linen of his suit jacket, the bling from her rings catching his eye. His heart leaped at the sight.  

He hummed lowly and squeezed her bottom, smirking when his fingers caught the dampness between her legs. She gave him a look. He gave one back. “Mhm. The quicker we get out of here, the quicker we get back. Let’s go, Mrs. Hamilton.” 

“That’ll never get old,” she said, reaching behind to swipe her purse off the counter. 

Her husband smiled softly and led her out of their shared bedroom. With a light kiss against her temple, he said, “It’s not supposed to. Let’s get out of here.” As they prepared to depart, the intimacy lingered like the sweetness of her fragrance., 

With whispered words, playful touches, and gentle kisses, they prepared themselves for what the outside world had to offer. Heaven.

[zu8her]

✧･ﾟSuna Rintarou | Sweet — just suna being extremely horny

✧･ﾟtags — lots of cum. like a lot. an ungodly amount. non penetrative sex. video call. audio porn. nudes. black!reader. thick!reader. fantasising. switch!suna. no beta. maybe a part 2 if im feeling up to it. masturbating. cock fisting. cock. cock. cock. whiny!suna. Virgin!Suna switch!suna. voicenote.

✧･ﾟnotes — this is the fastest fic i have written thus far. it's inspired by @chrollohearttags and @forusomimiya (y'all are fucking amazing). i dabbled a little bit and added some of my own characterisation to suna. i really hope yall like it.

✧･ﾟ— word count: 1.6K

She's cute. So fucking cute. He thinks staring down at a picture she recently posted. Her hair’s in mini twists. She has on a cherry pink dress with a white-ish nude pink corset outlining her waist. She lays on her signature plaid punch pink picnic mat, snacks surrounding her with a porcelain vase in the centre containing sweet pea vines. She looks up at the camera with a smile. Her hickory skin producing an angelic luminance under the sun's honey glimmer.

Her friend's rust coloured hand can be spotted at the crook of the photo with their glamorous green acrylics in view tapping against the mat.

But his eyes only fixate on her. Her glistening skin, her chest pushed up with the help of the corset (he questions if it was deliberate or not), her thighs in view as her dress is hiked up slightly and her alluring smile.

His eyes has been taking in every tantalising detail of her body. He grunts, a moan or two slipping out, stroking his cock faster. Hissing at the cum seeping down his shaft.

He'd like to say that this doesn't happen often but it does. Him relentlessly stroking his cock for her, because of her, is a near daily occurrence for him. The mere thought of her would make him palm his cock through his sweatpants. The mere sight of her as he scrolled through his phone would make him throw his head back closing his eyes to filthy images of her.

Like right now, viciously fisting his cock. He groans as yet another shaking orgasm washes over him. His cum running down his hand gathering with the previous spurts of cum and precum. It landing on his tile floor and droplets on his phone. It rolls down from his cum-covered balls onto his sweatpants he pulled down a good 2-3 hours ago. His mind too dazed to even conceive the time or how many times he had cum.

To overwhelmed to hold it, he drops his phone. Shutting his eyes, he envisions her with his cock in her mouth. Teasing him with little licks at his tip and her hand running up and down his cock.

He’d always think about her. During practice, lectures, at some of event where he sat for hours, at home, with a smirk planted on his face as she scolds him after finding a piece of her clothing he had hidden in his room after she forgot it there. "You think this is funny? I thought someone stole it. I've been looking for this."

His thoughts would be filled with her. Her in utter ecstasy. Her flowerful voice always in his head, dripping with lust as it whines, moans, gasps and giggles.

“Fuck me, Rin.”

“I’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

“Be a good boy and let me fuck you, Rin.”

“Touch yourself for me, baby.”

He’s been violently horny, since he became her boyfriend. She knows his for a fact. He's always teasing her. Pressing his hard cock against her ass and whispering the things he'd do to her. “What about we get out of here and you show me what you're hiding under this shirt, hmm? Would you like that?”

This is especially enticing for him because he has not done anything with anyone yet. She has. The thoughts of his 'extremely fucking attractive and experienced' girlfriend fucking him, would rile him up. It would have him in the bathroom rubbing one out with images of her between his legs lapping up all his cum and him fucking her pretty little throat, filling it and watching her swallow.

He'd spent hours fantasising about fucking her in everyway imaginable.

With her bent over his knee as he fucks his fingers into her. Licking off her cum. How would it taste like, he seldom ponders. Would it be as sweet as her.

Her legs over his shoulder, while he moans her name and fucks his cock into her wet cunt. Rubbing her clit as he feels her cum on his cock. How would that feel like?

With her laying on her stomach, drool running down her cheek as he fucks her from behind. Watching her ass repeatedly bounce against his cock.

From the side, holding her leg up as he plunges every inch of his cock into her. Sloppily kissing her. Looking through his mirror at her tits bouncing with his thrusts.

This is torture. Depriving him from fucking her (even if it was him who said he'd like to take things slow). Surely, she had to suffer alongside him. Probably with her wand, pressing it against her clit. Her ass up, legs spread rubbing her clit and teasing her soft fingers inside her slit.

He often wonders if she fucks herself to the thought of him. Does she grope her tits and press her thighs together at the photos she has of him, at the photos he sends?

These thoughts would send him into a frenzy, that leaves him with his cock hard again. Then he'd retreat to his bed or bathroom with his trusty phone and the baby wipes she had left in his dorm and forgot about.

He'd like her to experience and bare the brunt of the disgustingly lewd lust she brought onto him. He'd be cruel, evil even. Torturing her by sending her pictures of his hard cock with his pretty pink tip, audios of him moaning for her, videos of his throbbing cock. His cock twitching with cum all over it, his hand too, holding the base while cum drips onto his stomach. Deliberately but vaguely placing emphasis on his hand or taking it out of the frame entirely because he knows how much she loves his hands.

This night. This normal, Sunday evening, he felt particularly needy. He came, and came, and came. To the point that a small puddle of his cum formed. The ache started when he woke up scrolling through his phone to find a voicenote she had sent to him, of her quiet moans and whimpers with the sound of her vibrator accompanying her, in retaliation. He listened to it on his way to the bathroom. Which is where he stays currently, stroking his cock again after finally ceasing stroking his cock an hour ago.

He cleaned up. Throwing his dirty sweatpants in the laundry hamper. Just then is when he caught a glimpse of her underwear and hot pink towel hanging over the rack.

So, he sits on his toilet with her towel wrapped around his neck inhaling her scent and rubbing her thong against his cock.

While he continued to indulge in his fantasies, she sat by her desk with scented candles, her computer in front of her as she finished her paper. She hums to the music slightly bobbing her head feeling her twists brush against her cheeks.

Feeling her phone vibrate she picks it up. She has notification. A message from: ☆*: .｡.Rin🤎.｡.:*☆ with a video attached to it.

Seeing that, she stops. It’s either him beginning his tirade of bombarding her with videos he found funny (his humour is quite... stale but she loves him for it), the practice match footage, random volleyball plays he wanted to try or him begging her to come fuck him. He’d done this many times. She’d respond with a picture of herself effectively worsen his problem, sometimes she'd be kind and send him a message telling him to care of it himself/ to fuck off (which she found he enjoyed) or her laying in bed with her vibrator between her folds rewatching the video, over, and over, and over again.

She sits thinking. Finish the essay now, but she does have 3 more weeks before she has to hand this in. Her eyes snap to her phone when she receives yet another message from him. She discards all reason and opens it. Clicking on the notification the video automatically plays.

Her screen is filled with his cum-covered cock. It would be abhorrent how much cum covers his cock and hand if she did not find it attractive, which she does. Over her speakers softly plays the sloppy sound of him rubbing his cock and him moaning. She presses her thighs together when he finally speaks.

“Hey, baby.” His husky voice greets.

“Look what you’ve done…” He sniffs. “You did this. Fuck- You have me stroking my cock like this… You won’t even help me… Look how hard it is… I just need- just- fuck- please, please come fuck me, baby.” His deep voice whines.

“I’ll do anything. I’ll be good. Just please let me fuck you." His voice softens. "I'll be good."

He continues, unable to form a coherent thought or sentence with his mind dazed in a haze of pleasure. Just blabbering whatever slips out with his moans.

“You’re so pretty y/n. So fucking pretty. Just thinking about you… Fuck-” He whines as cums spurts onto his stomach and drip down his hand.

Hearing only his whimpers for a few moments as he gathers himself. Then he slips into a domineering tone with his sly chuckle.

“Please, come fuck me. Just your tits will be fine. Or let me eat you out. Or just come watch me. Watch me fuck myself for you. Just for you.”

The camera flips and she's met with his face. Sweat runs down his face, his yellow eyes dull with lust as he gives a fucked-out grin before his face twists and he deliverers a deep moan. She hears him continue to sloppily stroke his cock.

“Fuck, I’m still cumming for you.”

He pants, him biting his lower lip. With a chuckle the video ends.

[angelkhi]

laundry day - j.m

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: joel finds a small surprise when doing his laundry.

warnings: SMUT 18+ (MINORS DNI) male masturbation, allusions to sex, nasty thoughts, joel being horny and a little bit in love.

word count: 657

a little note: i love the last of us with my whole heart and coochie and i cried ugly tears watching the trailer last night. anyways if i thought i was down bad for pixels, pedro has now doubled it. tripped it. enjoy this short thing i wrote in like 20 minutes 🫶🏾

Joel knows he shouldn’t. But they’re just sitting there, taunting him, sat so perfectly amongst the washing pile. He hadn’t meant to take them, he didn’t even know he had until he was folding away the few shirts he owned. But now the simple piece of cotton has thrown him so completely. It wasn’t uncommon for laundry to get mixed up around here, close quarters and all. But it had never affected him like this.

He knows they’re yours, you’re the only other person who does their washing at stupid o’clock. You’re the reason he’d started doing his in the depths of the night, the chance of bumping into you, having you to himself in the vacuum of the laundry room his selfish need to be around you, to feel things he hadn’t felt in so long.

He can’t decide if it’s backfired or a godsend, resting on the edge of his creaking bed, hunched over the small pile of clothing. They’re soft against his calloused skin when he finally plucks up the courage to touch them. Simple. Black. A slightly torn frilly hem. They’re you.

He thumbs at the fabric for a moment longer, imagines them flush against your skin, hugging your backside so perfectly, hiding your perfect cunt. His cock twitches in his boxers, arousal settling in his stomach. He strokes them again, wondering if you’re missing them, what they’d look like pulled to the side as he fucks you with his fingers, or hanging from your ankle whilst he makes you come on his cock over and over.

Fucking hell.

Joel squeezes his dick tight and hard trying to relieve some of the building pressure. He’s hard as a rock, palming himself in the middle of the night, your panties in his hand. A small dark splotch decorates the light grey material, precum leaking from his head, and he feels like a prepubescent kid again. Beyond desperate.

He pulls himself free, hissing at the cool air brushing over him. He wonders what sounds you’d make beneath him, how wet your pretty panties would be as he grinds against you. He jerks once, and then again, his grip tight almost mean. He wonders how you’d feel, cockdrunk, twitching beneath him cause he can’t let up. He’s addicted to something he’d never had the pleasure of having. He groans quietly, his mind running ragged, his need to know how you feel, how you smell, how you taste colouring filthy pictures he never wants to look away from.

He doesn’t think when he brings the material to his nose and inhales, a moan deep and guttural escaping his lips. He can smell the rosy suds of the detergent, the sweet floral notes smelling so you. But beneath it, there’s a hint of you. A warm, earthy musk. So perfectly you. Joel strokes himself hard and fast, the arousal spiking dangerously close to release.

He wraps the cotton in his fist, eyes closed, head thrown back, chest heaving. The smooth wrinkles on his skin grow harsh with bliss. He doesn’t think when he wraps the cotton around his cock, he can’t think when the cotton rubs against him so sensitive and ready to just let go. His now empty hand cups his sac, rolling and squeezing until he’s damn near panting.

He catches himself in the small mirror on his dresser, the image of him using your underwear to get himself off so downright filthy. The tension pulls, to a near breaking point and he’s spilling himself into your underwear. Small ropes of white come decorating the gusset, small droplets leaking onto the torn laced edges.

He sits for a moment, staring at the defaced material, thinking about your pretty, innocent smile, thinking about sliding them right over your pussy, his come mixing with your slick heat.

He finds the energy to fix himself up and tosses the panties into his dirty laundry pile. Maybe he’ll keep them.

[angelltheninth]

Could I request Cater overstimulating his s/o at the beach, hidden away from the other Heartslabyul members?

A little public sexy times happening over here today.

Pairing: Cater Diamond x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, beach sex, massage, sex in public, fingering, neck kissing, soft sex, overstimulation, gentle sex

A/N: This is a PSA, don't have sex on the beach, it won't end well for you most likely. But its hot to think about. Think, don't do in this case.

Summer break was finally here, that of course meant the obligatory beach vacation for you, your boyfriend and all your friends

You didn't want Cater to go swimsuit shopping with you before this, you wanted to surprise him with your choice of a swimsuit, which was a bikini, with diamond imprints over the top

He insisted on you taking a picture at least, which you also denied

By the time he saw you he was on the edge of his seat for what you prepared for him, he almost wanted to cover you up when he saw you

You had... his symbol on you, how could he not feel a little possessive, a little horny

"Know you didn't want to send me any pics earlier so can I take some of my own. For personal use of course." You knew very well what that meant, you'd sent each other many pics for... personal use

He plays very nice and innocent in front of others, pulling you close, while out of view his hand goes down your back, grabbing a handful of your ass

Offers to rub sunscreen on you, because he's worried of course, no other possible reason having to do with wanting to see of you can stand still

You had a suspicion of what he wanted to do but you were interested in his little challenge

"Try to hold still okay? I can't apply this properly otherwise." His words tickle the back of your neck as he smooths his hands down your back, his fingers undoing the strings of your top as he moves up and down, his hips digging into yours, the outline of his cock pressing in between your ass cheeks, "No squirming honey bunny. Don't tell me this has you all worked up."

You bite your lower lip and fold your arms under your chin, one over the other and fist them into the towel, pretending not to be worked up by his touches

His excitement is more prominent then yours, at least physically, but it doesn't show on his face, he has the same shit-eating grin as always, not giving anything away

His fingers brush against the sides of your breasts, both teasing and tickling but you can't move, pinned down by the strength and pressure of his hips

When he's done applying the sunscreen on your back he moves to your thighs, deliberately letting his fingers dip between them and brush against your covered pussy

As you start to spread your legs for his hand he pulls away, "And done! I think I did a pretty good job! Catch you in the water honey bunny!" He pecks you on the cheek before you have the chance to slap him for his relentless teasing

How are you supposed to swim with this heat between your legs? But then again it might help you cool off a little

Your idea went out the window when you and Cater were floating next to each other and his fingers pushed inside your opening, slowed down thanks to the ocean but still more then able to stimulate you, a bit too much, leading you to relying on him to stay above water

He's clever, curling his fingers inside of you while keeping you against him, out of view

"My fingers are gonna get all wrinkly haha. Even with the water here I can feel how wet you're getting cause of me. Should I do something about it right here? Well, no, not in the ocean, don't want you to drown cause of my dick. That'd be a way to go." His warm lips and tongue stick to your neck, sucking the salty water droplets off you as you squirm in his arms

You're shaking as you get back to shore, not from the cold but from the rush of lust between your legs that Cater refuses to fully address

"You're trembling. Here, what do you way I wrap this towel around you, keep you nice and warm against me. Out of view." His fingers untie the lower half of you swimsuit, "Gotta take this off too, its gonna dry faster." A cold hand closes over your cunt, rubbing the slick juices around, "So wet. I wanted to wait until we got back to the hotel but I can't. I'm taking you right now honey bunny, hold still for me."

Cater's wet hair presses against your cheek as he movies his shorts down and slowly sits you down on his cock, his legs bent, his arms securing the towel around your bodies, "Don't let a sound out you hear. You'd get us in a lot of trouble. Not just with Riddle either."

You try to focus on something other then the full, hard pressure of his cock in your pussy, barely sliding in and out your hole, barely making a sound

"Squeeze your breasts for me, I'd do it myself but... my hands are occupied. Unless you want me to drop the towel. But then everyone would see you taking my cock and I don't want that, do you?" Your hands fly to your boobs, your mouth barely holding back a deep groan of pleasure, "Trying to get me to finish early? Do you need my cum that bad? No. Then how do you explain this tightness around my cock?"

With his body so sturdy against yours, his cock warm and pulsing in your wet walls, and his hands holding the towel, keeping the heat trapped between your bodies it was getting hard to think, to talk, to hold still

You started moving back and forth just a little bit faster, his cock getting to slide out just a little more then before

The two of you were dripping right now but now from the ocean that's for damn sure

"I'm getting closer, can't help it, you feel too good. We're gonna need another dip in the ocean after this. Turn your head towards me, I don't trust you not to moan when you come." His lips pressed against yours just in time to catch your moan, just in time for you to sit all the way down on his cock and start opening up for the onslaught of his cum flooding you from the inside

"Good job, that's my good girl. No a sound from you." That smug smirk was back on his face, "We're not going back swimming just yet. Can't let people see this mess between your legs." He held you against him, tight and warm and safe, "Lean back, I'll carry you to the hotel room later."

[dylan-o-yumm]

Hi there! I just wanna say that I love your writing it’s so good 🫶 anyways I can’t stop thinking about Leon coming back from a mission terribly hurt, and the reader just worries over him and takes care of our sweet boy 🥺 giving him the love and comfort he deserves 🫶 stay safe out there and remember to hydrate! 🫶

Firstly, thank you for the sweet and kind words, anon 💜 you’re precious

Okay so I changed it up a little bit just because I have a longer fic in the works that’s exactly this request lol, so keep an eye out for that one! This one is more… moody? And the love and comfort is more... frustration and argumentative. Hehe

And I imagine RE6/ID Leon for this one but you can imagine who you want!

WARNINGS: wounds/gore, if you're squeamish then maybe don't read just to be safe. Reader is also kinda a bitch, but we all know Leon loves his challenging women lol

“Hey, kid. Mind if I come in?” He asks, already slinking his way inside your home, his hand clutching his right shoulder that was scratched and torn up, leaking blood down his leather jacket and spilling small droplets onto your floor as the blood slid down his bicep and trickled down his fingers.

“Leon, go to a hospital. You’re making a mess,” you grumble, shutting the front door that you had just opened to greet him, and turning around to glare at him with your arms folded over your chest.

“Nice to see where your priorities lie,” he quipped with a hint of humour in his voice. “I’ll clean up any mess I make, I promise.”

You watched him as he made his way to your bathroom, grumbling to yourself as you looked at the floor and saw the trail of blood that he was leaving behind him.

You’ll have to mop again. Even though you just mopped the floors this morning... Maybe you wouldn’t care about the mess if Leon was actually dying. However he loved to come to your house to patch himself up after, almost, every mission. This wasn’t a once off, this was a reoccurrence.

Last time it was broken ribs, which you got into a fight with him about. You were determined that he go to a hospital and seek actual medical attention, but he was adamant that he was fine and would heal on his own. The two of you had a screaming match— well, you screamed, he was pretty calm the whole time. You were paranoid that he would pierce a lung, and then what would you do? You had no medical practice aside from when he would visit, you’d have no idea how to help him. Turns out all he needed was some ice and lots of rest, so it wasn’t too bad.

The time before that, he had a pretty severe concussion. Which again, resulted in the two of you fighting about if he should or shouldn’t go to a hospital, but the night ultimately ended with you forcing him to stay awake so he didn’t die in his sleep. You realised fighting would probably make his condition worsen and he was too stubborn to give up and go to a hospital so you lost a lot of sleep that night, keeping him awake by talking since watching tv would also worsen his condition. So Google says anyway.

The time before that it was a dislocated shoulder. The time before that it was a nasty slice on his thigh that desperately wanted to get infected. The time before that— well, you get the picture. You are Leon Kennedy’s personal nurse whether you like it or not.

“Hey, kid. Come here,” he called out to you from inside the bathroom and you sighed heavily, ready to see whatever injuries he had. It was going to be bad and you were going to yell at him to go to a hospital and he would refuse and you would end up helping him. Rinse and repeat.

You made your way to the bathroom, dodging the drops of blood on the floor so you didn’t walk even more of a mess throughout the house. “I keep telling you, I’m not a fucking doct- oh fuck!”

The moment you saw him, you stumbled and fell back against the bathroom door, feeling your stomach drop while bile rose in your throat.

His jacket was off and hanging over the shower door while his shirt was half off, hanging around his neck and his left arm as he had freed his right arm. Though it wasn’t the lack of clothing that disturbed you, it was the pair of tweezers he was digging into his bloody shoulder, clearly trying to dig something out.

More blood was gushing down his arm and the sickening squelch of him digging around inside his own flesh made you very light headed.

“Hey, come here I need an extra pair of hands.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Come on, I can feel it, I just can’t get a hold of it. Need that bad boy outta me before I can stitch it up.” He barely looked at you, instead frowning deeply at his shoulder while he dug around his own flesh.

You were going to kill this man with your own bare hands.

“Bullet wound?” You ask, swallowing the bile in your mouth.

“Not sure.”

“How are you not sure?!”

“Just— help me would you?” He sighed, giving up on the task at hand as he took the tweezers out of his shoulder, handing them towards you. Both the tweezers and his fingers were covered in blood, warm and sticky. You wanted to cry. Or scream. Or punch him. All of the above.

You took the tweezers and grabbed the open bottle of rubbing alcohol off the bathroom counter, spilling some over your hands and the small tool. Leon watched you silently, sitting comfortably on the closed toilet lid, man-spreading and slouching as if he didn’t have a gaping hole in his shoulder.

“I hate you so much, just FYI,” you told him as you placed one hand on the top of his shoulder to steady him and yourself while the other hand with the tweezers came up and slowly dug into the hole. Leon hissed, probably because of the antiseptic, but he was soon calm once again. The man had probably been through so much pain in his life that this felt like a breeze.

“You wouldn’t be doing this if you hated me,” he smirked, watching your face while you were very focused on finding whatever it was that was inside his arm so you could get it out safely. And also not throwing up on him as the squelching noises of the tweezers moving around inside him made it very hard to control your stomach.

“Maybe you hate me then. Having me do this for you even though you know how much I hate it, when you could just go to a fucking hospital.” You grumbled, frowning at his arm. You could feel the small piece inside him, scraping against it with the tweezers, you just had to grab it and pull it out without accidentally pushing it further inside.

“That’s not hate. That me being selfish,” he looked away from you, his smirk dropping and his eyes hardening. “I trust you more than some stranger to poke around inside me with a pair of tweezers.”

“You shouldn’t. I have no idea what I’m doing.” You huff.

He was silent then but not because he didn’t have a response. He was more focused watching you pull out a small golden bullet from his arm, that was slightly crumpled from the impact at which it was fired.

“Well what do ya know? It was a bullet,” he sighed heavily, though relaxing further into his seat. The both of you looked closely at the piece that was once in his arm, but now sat firmly between the pincers of the tweezers.

“What the fuck else would it have been?!”

“Trust me you don’t wanna know.” He scoffed. “Anyway, time for you to stitch me up.” He clapped his hands once, wincing at the pain that shot up through his arm as he did so. He leaned forward slightly and rested his elbow on his knee.

“Leon. I’m not a doctor,” you huffed, dropping the bloody bullet into the small trash can beside the toilet. You then dropped the tweezers into the sink and ran some water to rinse them off. “I understand you trust me more, for whatever reason. But this isn’t fair. I hate doing this. I hate seeing you like this.”

“I thought you cared more about the mess I was making in your house.”

You rinsed your hands in the sink next, watching Leon’s blood swirl down the drain. Though his snide comment had you shutting off the water and turning to look at him with a hand on your hip and an unamused look on your face.

Leon parted his lips and avoided your gaze, sighing as he realised you weren’t in the mood for his playful attitude.

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head and grabbed a handful of toilet paper to start wiping away the blood on his arm. “I know I shouldn’t put you through this. I know it’s unfair on you.”

You crouch down in front of him and place your hand on his knee. “Tell me why you do it. Why do you come to me instead of a professional?”

Leon continued to clean his arm, avoiding eye contact with you but the fact that he was being quieter and softer now made your frustrations ease a little. He was acting more unlike himself and more like a soldier, hardened by the many wars he faced.

“When I’m out there on the field,” he pauses what he’s doing and looks up, but he doesn’t look at you, instead his eyes remain distant, unfocused. Maybe lost in a memory. “I look forward to this. Spending time with you. It’s not the best circumstances I know, but after seeing the shit I see... coming back to see you is like a breath of fresh air. I guess I just wanted to be selfish about something, you know?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and you looked down at your hand that was resting on his knee.

He didn’t get to be selfish a lot in his line of work, it made sense that he would just like to be doted on and cared for instead of being the one who cares for everyone else. This was his break, his vacation.

“I guess—“ you swallow the lump in your throat, refusing to meet his gaze, not that he was looking at you as he was quite flustered after what he just confessed. “I’ve been pretty selfish too. I mean you show up with a bullet wound, bleeding everywhere and I... I mean I’ve been pretty bitchy,” You chuckle but you don’t feel very good about yourself.

“Look,” you start, “what if you come see me more often? Preferably when you’re not bleeding. We can watch movies, relax. Give you the down time you deserve. Just... if you have a crazy injury like this, please get it checked out by a professional? That’s all I ask. I’ll pamper you as much as you need afterwards, okay?”

You’ll give him a vacation that he actually deserves.

“I’d like that,” Leon smiles, closing his eyes to take in the warm feeling for a moment longer. When he opened his eyes again, you couldn’t look away this time. His eyes were so blue, so expressive, so inviting.

You’re not sure what compelled you but your eyes lowered to his lips, so soft looking, only a little chapped, probably from being a little dehydrated after his mission, or maybe the blood loss. Either way you felt yourself leaning forward, inching closer and closer.

Until he cleared his throat.

“Do you mind sewing me up? I’m kinda bleeding out here.” He chuckled softly and you felt your face heat up and your eyes widen.

“Oh fuck, right,” you quickly jump to action, finding the needle and thread, cussing silently to yourself for being so stupid. “We could have talked after I patched you up, you know?”

“Ah where’s the fun in that?”

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I'm absolutely bat shit crazy for the idea of an older ProHero!Kiri. That age crossover with men when they're not quite strapping young lads (early to mid 20's?) to when they're distinguished gentlemen (mid 30's to 40's? ... even if they're not distinguished, they can still look the part 😆). *I tagged some of you simply because I (hoped) thought you might like some fun Kiri stuff this morning. If you don't want to be tagged every now and then, let me know and I won't randomly add you. =)

C/W ::: M->F oral, fingering, orgasm, squirting. Pretty short, sweet & to the point 🤷‍♀️.

WC ::: just over 1.4 k

(This fucking picture thoughghafejkdajlk)

I'm very hung up on older ProHero!Kiri right now. Laying in bed, reading the news on his tablet or laptop at the end of the day. He's already washed up and his red hair with dashes of white is tied back in a sloppy bun with one of your hair ties because he always 'loses' his. But you know it's bullshit. You've caught him smelling them before. You know it's because they smell so much like your hair that he wants them instead of the crap he buys for himself.

You get out of the shower in your master bath that's just off the master bedroom. Standing in front of the full length mirror closet doors to give yourself a once over before you strut around in front of your husband like an animal trying to secure a mate.

Your eyes roll over the surface of your freshly washed body. Droplets of water ease down your shoulders and breasts, stopping for a moment to rest on the tip of your nipple before they are another victim to gravity. Looking further down at your newly shaved cunt, you're so nervous, too ... to what? Present yourself to him?

You've never done this before. Never wanted to. Never had a reason to. Kiri hasn't ever hinted at wanting you to be bald - not even trimmed. He eats his meals like a big boy: without any complaints and he always finishes what he's got served up before him. He'd never complain in the first place, he's just so damned happy to be there between your thighs.

Walking into the room as nonchalantly as you can muster, you're brushing your hair and you ask him if there's anything good in local news.

"Nah, nothing I didn't already know about, babe. Anyway, I'm about to turn in for the - um, sorry? WHAT is going on with your pussy right now? Get your gorgeous ass over here right this instant, please, mama. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Are you trying to kill me with this??"

You blush and giggle, exercising every ounce of your willpower not to reach down and cup yourself to hide from his gaze. "You like it, Ei?" You ask, even though you're a little afraid of the answer. Despite the big stupid grin across his unshaven face.

"Do I - do I like it? *aheh* I-I-I ... fuck. I can't even talk right now. C'mere, c'mere." He lifts his massive arms and gestures for you to join him in bed. You can already see where the imprint of his cock has risen against the sheet he's got pulled up to his waist. Your pussy clenches at the excitement of what he's going to do with you. To you.

You take a few tentative steps toward the Alaskan King sized bed and walk up the little steps he built for you so you wouldn't have to struggle too much when you climbed onto the mattress. He had a special platform attached to the bedframe because he's so damn tall. You told him it would be easier for you to slide out of bed than it would be for him to have to start his day from a near crouch. It always makes him laugh, watching you do this. You just look so little to him. Oftentimes, he can't help himself but to aid you as you ascend. It's a little thing that makes both of you incredibly happy to have the other.

Once he has you up there with him, he lets go of your hand and runs it from your calves up to your face and holds you there while he kisses you softly. But you can tell by his breathing that he doesn't want to go slow tonight. His right hand is holding him up as he leans into your neck and pushes your hair aside with his left, eventually grabbing your throat and holding you there while he sniffs around at your spotless (and hairless) body.

"Sooo ... do tell, my little. What prompted the sudden change of, oh, hairstyles? We'll go with hairstyles. Why'd you shave your pussy? You didn't ... you didn't do this for me, did you? Because I don't want you to feel like I ---" He started his usual reassurance before you stopped him. "No! Nothing like that, Ei. I've just never done this and I wanted to see what it would be like. Y-you like it, though?" A wave of panic washed over you as you lay next to him.

"Oh my god, ye-yes. I fucking love it. You look beautiful. I love that I can see all of you. My pretty little pussy is all out there for me now. In fact, I think - mm-hm. I do. I gotta taste you. Now." He got up onto his knees, discarding his boxer briefs as soon as he tossed the sheet from over his legs. His cock, already leaking, slapped against his stomach.

His body is so fucking beautiful. Even more so than when he was in his 20's. He is strong. Ridiculously so. The hair on his chest sits there unassumingly. Perfect and inviting and warm to the touch. Really, he is warm all over/all of the time. It's comforting.

As you watched him make his way around to you, you glanced at the clock on your nightstand. In the time that it took you to look at that, he was on you. His giant hands wrapped around the curve of your thighs and he was pulling you toward him at the middle of the bed. You yelped at the sudden slide against the silk sheets. You moved easily enough, it was just such a surprise. Though the more you thought about it, the more you realized you should always be prepared for him to do stuff like this.

"There ... we ... go. Ok, babe. I'm going to thoroughly devour you, ok? Like, I've never done this on ... on a bald pussy before. I'm going to take all of you in. So lay back and open yourself up to me, cutie-pie." You blushed again and laid down, back flat against the bed. He laughed softly through his nose as he nudged your knees.

Kiri kissed his way from your inner knee, up your thigh to your soft folds. He looked up at you and smiled before he pushed his nose and mouth against your cunt. Your body shuddered as he moved his tongue around your clit and started to suck on it. He held onto your thighs and pressed his mouth harder against you as you started to get wetter. He moaned into you as he tasted your juices and pulled back just enough to say something to you.

"Fuck, I love your pussy. 'S so fucking perfect f'r me. Love you so much, babe. Thank you for ... fuck ... thank you for this delicacy." He dove back in, licking up your slit and sucking on your clit again. You moaned and grabbed at his hair as he started to use his fingers to push inside of you. He worked his hand so well, so gently. You felt him curl his fingers upwards as he started to rub against your g-spot. It was so fucking intense. You knew you were about to come, but you couldn't tell him fast enough.

Your body tensed up as you drew your legs up to your chest and the orgasm washed over you like a slow wave. You shook and you moaned loudly as you squirted in his face. He licked and sucked on you until you pushed his head away. Kiri wiped his mouth and chin with his hand and he noticed your body was still shaking.

"Are you ok, little? Did I ... do something?" You lowered your legs and pulled your arms from over your face and he saw your smile. "You're laughing?" He asked. You nodded and continued to laugh, almost hysterically. "What's so funny?" The look he was giving you in conjunction with the orgasm you just had, was about a blissed out as you've ever been. "No-nothing, Kiri. I'm fine. That was just really, really, really fucking amazing. I'm just happy 's all." You looked up at him as he was sucking his hand clean.

"I'm happy too, babe. And this was fun. You think you'll keep it like this for a while? Or ...?" He ran his fingertips over your mound as he kissed your stomach. "Please?"

Taglist ::: @neon-gothicc @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @arlerts-angel @callm3senpaii @millennialmagicalgirl @pastelbakugou

Dividers by me // Canva

[ningningsdream]

the villain in your story | part twenty nine

word count: 1k

SUNDAY NIGHT

you sighed as you plopped down on your shared bed with jaemin after taking a shower. you spent the whole day admiring the sight bike railing offered you and even ate dinner in a local restaurant. needless to say, you were all pretty exhausted. your temporary roommate was taking a shower as you scrolled through all the pictures you took that day and many of them were just jaemin fooling around while you were bike railing. those you would have loved to post just because they were too funny to not share but somewhere in the back of your mind, jiwoo was still there, lurking over your every action towards her crush. you knew your friendship have had many downs these past few months, especially when jaemin started to work at suhturday but you didn't know if it could survive this time around. though, you knew you owed her nothing, when you catch yourself almost crossing the line with jaemin when you two jokingly flirt, you felt guilty. like it was something you shouldn't be doing, some kind of twisted betrayal. as much as you didn't like her childish side, you didn't want to hurt her. you know how heartbreak felt like and it wasn't something you wished for her.

the door opening snapped you out of your thoughts as jaemin entered the room.

"you're going to bed with wet hair?", you asked raising an eyebrow.

"it's not wet wet, i towel dried it.", jaemin retorted sassily.

"i tOweL dRiEd iT.", you repeated, mocking his tone, "it's still wet. just don't shake your head and spread water everywhere like a dog, please.", the look on jaemin's face changed and he started smiling, eyes full of mischief. in a split second you realized what was going to happen, "no, jaemin, no!"

jaemin started launching at you while shaking his head violently, droplets of water spraying all around the air. you quickly pulled the covers above your head trying to protect yourself but jaemin was persistent. he started tickling your side through the covers as you begged him to stop while laughing. he managed to remove the covers from your face and started rubbing his wet hair on your face. your attempts at stopping him with your hands failed as he grabbed them each time, holding them on each side of you.

"pause! pause! pause! i'll do anything, just stop!", you cried out in despair, out of breath and stomach hurting from laughing so much.

jaemin stopped his intense head shaking, your words having caught his attention. he flicked his hair back with one swift head mouvement and looked back down at you. you were both breathing heavily at different pace but as you continued to stare at each other in your current position, him on top of you, knees on either side on your body, holding your hands down on the mattress on each side of your head, he was basically in a knee push up position, he intertwined your fingers and plopped down onto his elbows, now in a knee plank position, your faces were closer to one another as your breathing pace started matching. you blinked slowly, looking up at him, trying to slow down your heartbeat and breathing.

the door suddenly sprang open, and jaemin quickly rolled onto the side to look at who just burst into your room. there, was standing minjeong, her small frame, messy hair and checkered pajamas, holding a frying pan with a suspicious look in her eyes, "everything good here? we heard some screaming.", her menacing, yet adorable, threatening look was mainly directed towards jaemin.

"we were just joking around.", you answered.

"mmmh...", she looked one last time between the two of you before stepping back and out of your room, closing the door, "everything's alright, they were just fucking!", minjeong screamed for the people upstairs to hear.

"we were not fucking!", jaemin and you screamed at the same time.

you could feel your cheeks flush as you thought back to what just happened. if minjeong didn't interrupt the two of you, who would've know what could've happen and that was exactly what jaemin asked himself.

you lied down, looking at the ceiling, trying to calm your heartbeat when jaemin broke the silence, "did you mean it?"

"mean what?", you asked, turning your head to face him.

"you'd do anything for me to stop."

"well, if you're going to attack me again then yes."

jaemin rolled his eyes at your dramatic answer and then opened his arms. you looked at him, puzzled, "what am i supposed to do? hug you?"

jaemin nodded, "i want to cuddle. i'm affection deprived."

"ba- dude, that's just sad.", you were going to call him 'babe' but quickly corrected yourself midway, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"were you going to call me babe?", eyes suddenly sparkling at the nickname.

of course he noticed.

"no...", you lied, looking everywhere but his eyes.

"you totally were!", jaemin pointed out with more confidence, "call me babe.", he said, in an almost demanding tone.

"it's just a habit i have.", you explained yourself, ignoring his request.

"then call me babe."

"no."

"why?"

"i only do it with my girl friends."

"that's sexist."

"you want me to call you babe too?"

"i'd rather you call me honey."

"in your dreams."

"i sure hope so."

"you're insufferable."

"i know."

you sighed, knowing how persistent jaemin could be, "will you stop if i call you honey this one time?"

"sure."

you took a deep breath and said, "honey?"

"yes?", his voice was sweet as he batted his eyelashes at you playfully, in an exaggerated way.

"shut the fuck up.", you joked with an innocent smile.

"hug me and i will."

you rolled your eyes as you scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso, smiling in the crook of his neck. jaemin reciprocated your actions, wrapping his own arms around your smaller frame. he let out a silent sigh, relaxing in your hug and closing his eyes, fully enjoying your warmth. you fell asleep wondering if any of those actions meant something more to jaemin.

main masterlist | tviys masterlist

pairing: fem!oc x barista!jaemin, fembarista!reader x barista!jaemin

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive, barista!au, sns au

summary: girls' code prevents you from liking the guy your friend likes right?

a/n: post concert depression is real and i still can't believe i saw the dreamies irl

taglist: [@glamourizz @rinrinslovebot @nctzennikki09 @moonjobf @hiqhkey @calssunflower @donghyuckster @vianna99 @kookiedesi @baehaechannie @nshimura @thiccfullsun @dear-dreamie @neobowlingshoez @jjaehmins @liliansun @bythe8 @hyuckrec @dearlyminhyung ]

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[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| When Girls Telephone Boys ||

Fratt x female reader

Tags/warnings: E 18+ some phone fun while your two favourite guys are working away. Oral (m rec), Bukkake 😁

When he answers your call, hearing Frank's voice always fills you with a warm contentment.

"Hey sweetheart, everythin' alright?"

You smile widens, forever grateful that he always checks in on you.

"Yeah I'm doing fine, just really missing you both. What're you up to?" You ask, the probing, not-so-innocent curiosity dripping from your tone.

"Ah, nothin' much. At a motel for the night, just out the shower."

It's as if he does it on purpose, you're unable to stop your mind conjuring up the image of Frank wet and naked.

"Are you together?"

Matt's laying on the bed in just sweatpants. His fingers twitch when he hears your question over the receiver.

"Yeah." comes Frank's short reply.

"Good. Put me on speaker?"

Frank snorts out a little laugh. "Sure thing darlin'."

"Hi Matty." You call out to him.

The corners of Matt's lips pull up when he detects the layer of mischief there even within your simple greeting.

"Hi sweetie, what can we do for you?"

You hum with a little sense of satisfaction, knowing this was heading in exactly the direction you had hoped. "Just wanted to help you and Frankie relax after your hard night. That's all."

"Mm I see. Well yeah, that would be nice. We miss you honey, wish you were here."

"Oh I know." You pause for a few seconds.

Matt reaches out from the edge of the bed hooking his fingers in the rolled edge of the towel that Frank has wrapped low around his hips and pulls him in between his spread legs, the towel loosening and falling down to puddle on the floor. The taut skin of his stomach is still glistening with droplets of water that gather on Matt's fingers as he trails them down.

"So is he naked?"

You hum, considering the almost endless possibilities.

"Yep."

"On your knees for me Matty."

"Of course."

Frank's eyebrow quirks up and a slow smile spreads across his lips as Matt quickly gets up, switches places with him and sinks down to the floor like he was just waiting for the excuse. Frank places the phone down on the edge of the bed.

His hand cups Matt's jaw and he nuzzles into it. "He always looks so good on his knees, don't he, baby?" Frank notes. His cock bobs before him, the evidence of anticipation there in a perfect clear bead of precum leaking from his slit.

"Go on Matt, I want to hear him make all those pretty noises I like."

Matt wets his lips.

Frank groans in response and closes his eyes as Matt's tongue languidly laps over him, tasting him as he takes him into the soft, wet warmth of his talented mouth.

"Mhnh, shit…"

"You doing okay there, Frank?" You ask, a smile in your voice.

Matt kisses at his shaft, runs his tongue all the way along the prominent vein on the underside, swirling his tongue around his head as he curls his fingers around the base of him and starts jerking him off.

Frank responds with a chuckle that turns into a long, low groan as Matt takes one of his balls into his mouth and sucks.

"Fuck me devil-boy, you know every god damn thing I like, don't ya?"

Matt gives him a quick grin as he pulls off, before sealing his lips back around the swollen head of Frank's thick cock again and sucking him with fervour. He can hear the thumping beat of Frank's pulse loud in his ears and it goads him on.

Frank knows he's not gonna last long if Matt keeps this shit up, he feels too good, looks too fuckin' good. You can hear the strain in his voice as he tells you he's close and asks what you want him to do.

"Paint me a pretty picture, Frankie."

Frank groans, quickly pulling his dick out of Matt's mouth and wrapping his own fist around it, jacking himself off.

"Close your eyes sweetheart," he says, and Matt obeys, tilting his face up towards him and shutting his eyelids just in time.

"Hnngh- oh fuck, fuck!" Frank gasps as he comes, striping thick white lines of his release over Matt's face. It's dripping down the side of his nose, over his parted lips, and down his chin onto his chest which rises and falls with his own clipped breathy moans as he spills over his own fist.

Frank laughs breathlessly as he comes down. "Stay there." He tells Matt, and you hear the rustling as he picks the phone up from the bed, then the electronic 'click' of the camera app.

"Alright, there ya go."

A few moments later your own phone dings with a notification, and you open the picture Frank had sent you. Matt looks gorgeous. A completely fucked out mess, but so pleased with himself. His hair's thoroughly disheveled, some strands hanging over his forehead, cheeks flushed and red, and tongue caught mid-swipe licking over his lips as Frank had snapped him.

"Oh you boys, now I'm never gonna be able to sleep tonight! Thank you for that."

Frank squeezes the last few drops of come from the end of his cock, flicking them right on Matt's waiting tongue.

"Mmm. You're welcome sweetie," Matt calls, "can't wait till we're back home."

Tags (please let me know if you want added or removed, I will probably make a fratt taglist!): @peterman-spideyparker @pastafossa @mattmurdocksscars @mattmurdockspainkink @marvelswh0re @munsonownsmyass @briefcasejuice @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @imperfxctly-me @murnsondock @stupidthoughtsinwriting @m0nster-fvcker @creatingjana @echos-muses @lazyxsquirrel

@divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @chvoswxtch

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @marvelswh0re @feelmyskinonyourskin @honeyedheartss @evilbubu @nkeiiin @anna-hawk @frankcastlescumslut @reborn-rekall @chellestrash

[ladylooch]

Timo meier X team photographer smut please

Coming right up! This story idea came to me pretty quickly after I read your message. Thank you for the request!

Nailed it with Timo Meier

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+ Content, injury including blood.

As the Devil’s team photographer, I know angles are everything.

I’m in a crouch, down on one knee with my camera facing up. The Devil’s take their cue, dashing onto the ice to my left as I watch, waiting for the exact moment that Dougie Hamilton’s stick connects with the assortment of pucks. My camera clicks, getting several bursts of the pucks spiraling in the air. 

“Nailed it.” I grin to myself, coming back up from behind the camera. 

Tonight, the Devils are facing off against the Hurricanes in a red and black show down at The Rock. I brush my hair behind my ears, smiling as my boyfriend, Timo Meier, skates by, slapping his stick against the boards in front of me. It’s an acknowledgement and a good luck ritual- at least for the home games. 

Timo and I have been together for awhile. At this point, most of the players and staff members are used to it. We were forthcoming about our relationship from the start, feeling like the openness was the right way to approach the deep feelings we have for each other. We agreed to keep a low profile at the rink. We acknowledge each other, but avoid any aggressive PDA. Still, we regularly leave the rink holding hands and sharing a soft smooch or two. Timo skates another few laps, hitting pucks into the net at lightning speed. I snap a few more pictures, zeroing in on a few notables like Nico Hischier, Miles Wood, and Jack Hughes. Jack sticks his tongue out at me in one of his laps.

“That one is definitely going to Instagram!” I yell after him. His giddy laughter follows his wake. 

Timo skates over to the bench, grabbing a red water bottle in front of me and dousing himself with the spray. I step more to my left to avoid any water on my camera.

“Ah! That is cold tonight.” He wiggles his shoulders at me as the droplets race down his neck and back. 

“You say that every night.” I respond from behind my camera. I bring it down, looking at the screen to see if I need to adjust my settings. The arena lights seem a bit brighter than I’m used to. I look up, realizing the graphics are whiter than last home game.

“Yeah.. I like that it’s our thing.” He cheeses at me. 

“Go skate some laps ya slacker.” I love him, but he’s distracting me from my job. I start to work my way into the camera settings, pressing the arrow buttons to adjust the shutter speed and aperture settings. I think I’ve got it just right, bringing the camera closer to my face.

Then, everything goes black.

When I come to, it’s because of smelling salts. I jolt then immediately start gagging. 

“Stay down.” Mike, the assistant athletic trainer, tells me. The smell of sweat and wet rubber meets my nose next. I’m laying on the mats in the Devil’s bench. The bright lights of the arena are blinding from this position and I grimace in discomfort. My eyes slowly work their way around the group hovering over me. I see Nico, Miles, and Timo, who’s complexion is ghostly white.

“Babe.” He sputters out.

“Ow.” I whine, reaching for my head. Mike grabs my hand to prevent me from touching it.

“I’m so sorry!” Miles yelps to me. Nico turns to give him a look and gestures with his head for Miles to hit the ice again.

“You’re going to need stitches.” Mike warns me when I try to touch the tenderest part of my head. Awareness of the towel and pressure has me feeling woozy. “Let’s sit her up slowly.” Timo moves behind me and together with Mike, they sit me up. I lean back into Timo, my head feeling too heavy to support on my own. “We’re gonna sit here for a minute.” Mike says, watching my eye movement. He brings out the pen with the light and shines it in my eyes.

“I think I’m going to throw up.” I tell them, feeling my mouth get wetter and my throat tighten up.

“Okay, let’s see if we can walk you to the training room.” Mike says.

“I’ll get her.” Timo insists, reaching his hands under my arms and gently helping me to my feet. I wind my arm around his back then gingerly move forward. Mike is in front, making sure I don’t fall forward. There’s no way Timo would let me. He’s holding me too tight.

We work our way to the locker room after a few encouraging pats from Nico and Miles. 

“I’m so sorry!” Miles calls after me. “Fuck…” I hear him start talking to Nico as we disappear into the hallway. I still don’t know what he is apologizing for. Several Devils’ staff members are hustling around, still preparing for the game. One of those people is Steve, the head athletic trainer, who looks at Timo concerned.

“What happened?” He asks, moving around to my other side and wrapping an arm around me. “I’ve got her, Timo.” Steve insists. “You can head back to the ice.” Timo hesitates in dropping his arm around me.

“I… want to make sure she’s okay. She got hit by a puck from Miles.”

“Go warm up. She’s in good hands.” Steve tells him.

“It’s okay.” I whisper to him, releasing his body to transfer completely to Steve. Timo pauses, watching the drooping of my eyes and the blood pooling on the BioSteel towel.

“Come get me if it’s bad.” He says to the two trainers. They nod in agreement. Timo gives me one last look before begrudgingly following the black mats back to the ice.

“Where is my camera?” I mumble to Mike.

“It’s on the bench. We will send someone to grab it.” I send a little prayer up that it’s not broken.

“Did someone catch me?” I wonder as they maneuver me onto the table. 

“Yeah, Timo did.” I nod, remembering our teasing before the world disappeared.

“He’s good at that.” I murmur to Mike. 

Steve sticks around as they pull the towel off. It’s not deep but it will need stitches. They decide they can do it without shaving part of my hair off, which I appreciate. They begin to line the tools up and start just as we hear the players coming back in from warmups. Mike insists he’s got it, so Steve leaves, pulling the door shut behind him.

Timo struts in a minute later. He says nothing, just comes to lace our fingers together.

I wince slightly at the dull throbbing beginning to pound in my head. Timo takes it as the stitches.

“You’re hurting her.” He snaps. 

“Timo, I’ve got it. Let me work or you’ll have to leave.” 

“Go get ready for the game. I’m fine.” I mumble to my boyfriend. Its a total lie; I feel like garbage, but his help is needed elsewhere tonight.

“But-”

“Timo.” I sigh, closing my eyes in pain and exasperation. He’s making this whole thing worse by fussing over me. Yes, it’s sweet, but I need him to focus on the game. I don’t want to be a distraction when this is an important match up with a division rival. “You’ll have plenty of time to take care of me after the game.”

“Okay.” He says quietly. Mike pauses the stitches so we can share a kiss. It’s tender and a bit tortured, like he’s trying to heal me with his mouth. I reach up to cup his chin, deepening the kiss until I slowly pull back. Our lips catch together for a moment before his blue eyes open to meet mine. “Love you.” Despite the pain and anxiety, I smile.

“Love you.” He gives my thigh a squeeze before disappearing beyond the door to rejoin his teammates. When the Devils are about to begin the game, each one of the players strolls through the trainer’s room to give me fist bumps. Timo is the last one. 

“Kick some butt.”

“Just for you.” He taps my thigh on the way out, face turning serious with his game mode activated.

After Mike is done stitching me up, the team arranges for me to go home in a town car with strict instructions to stay awake until Timo gets home. I nod in understanding, but the request gets harder and harder the later it gets. By the time Timo rushes through our apartment door, my droopy eyes are almost closed.

“No, no, no.” He murmurs as he tosses his keys in the bowl by the door. “Baby, no sleeping yet. We have to call Steve. He asked for us to check in with him.”

“No.” I whine, tossing the blanket over my head. “I just wanna go to bed.”

“And I want you to be safe.”

We talk to Steve and he seems to think I’m doing well enough to go to sleep. 

“Reminder to take it easy for the next few days. Rest up.”

Timo agrees that I will and clicks off the phone. He tosses it on the end table, then gathers me into his arms.

“I was so scared. Like I saw it happen and there was nothing I could do.” He shakes his head, swallowing loudly. 

“It was an accident. I hope Miles is okay.”

“He’s fine.” Timo says, massaging my back with his strong fingers. “He’s going to send over cookies as an apology tomorrow.” I chuckle, shaking my head.

“That is not necessary.”

“Shhhhh.” He pats the uninjured side of my head gently. “We will let him send the cookies.” 

“Mmm interesting priorities, Meier.” I tilt my head up to look at his face. The adjustment in position makes my head spin in protest. I close one eye, trying to get my senses steady again. Timo picks up on the discomfort and frowns.

“Are you okay?” 

“I could use a distraction.” I tell him honestly. After being alone for a few hours and the trauma of what could have been settling in, I’m feeling edgy. I know Timo can be the cure. His blue eyes are wary.

“That’s… probably not a good idea.”

“Make me feel better.” I lean up to speak against his lips. 

“Steve said-“

“I don’t care. Help me focus on something besides the pain.” My tongue melds with his. He continues to resist until I skim my fingers along the zipper of his designer pants. “Please.” I breathe into our kiss. He surrenders to me, wrapping his arms tighter around my body to hold me closer. 

I maneuver up to straddle his large thighs. My fingers trail up his chest and neck to his cheeks, deepening our kiss. Timo’s hands move from my back to my ass cheeks, digging his fingers into my leggings. He rolls my hips, helping to build the thickening in his pants. A pleasure filled sigh wraps between us when he hits my folds just right.

“I’m standing up.” He says in warning, then does so. I pull back to look at his face while we walk. My fingers come to his silky, black tie, tugging on the fabric until the knot releases. Timo’s fingers dig further into my ass, holding me up tighter and closer to him. “You okay?” He checks as he lays me on the bed. I nod as he works his hands along the waistband of my leggings to get them down my legs. My panties come with. Timo moves between my spread legs, pushing my knees wider as he looks down at me. My inner muscles pulse, causing a smile from him. “You need something here?” He asks as a finger circles my opening. I wiggle against his hand. 

“Don’t tease tonight.” I whimper. “I’ve been through enough.” His thick eyebrows pull down in sadness then he slides his middle finger into me. His thumb comes up to stroke my clit in sync with his in and out motion. I bite my lip, lifting my head to look down and watch him. The room vibrates and I fall back onto the bed.

“Stay there, baby. Just feel me.” He encourages. I note his hot breath dancing on my wet folds. His tongue comes out to do a gentle lick, nudging between my outer lips to stroke my clit. I reach my hand out, letting it fall on his forearm. He moves so our fingers can lace together while he buries his mouth deeper into me.

His mouth slurps me greedily, working me closer to the edge. He interjects gentle nibbles to build pressure and impatience. Then, when he’s sure he’s got me, he creates a wet, hard suction with his mouth. I come loudly, gripping his fingers and grinding against his mouth. When I come to, I realize he is still completely clothed. He reaches down for the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it up my body until I’m naked.

“Watch me.” He murmurs, reaching for the tie swinging down his chest. 

He tosses it to the floor then shrugs his suit jacket off. He begins to work on the buttons of his dress shirt, alternating between looking there and at me. I slowly run my tongue along my bottom lip, gaining more of his attention. I drag my finger tips up my body to my nipples, swiping my fingers along them and moaning. Timo’s fingers pause as I take another pass at them. It feels so good that I widen my legs further, wanting him right there. His eyes stay pinned on my chest while working his belt apart. His pants fall down, then his boxer briefs until his hard cock pierces the air. Our eyes meet, hard and hot desire twisting in our gazes. 

My blue eyes drink him in when he leans over me, pressing our lips together. Our tongues connect, lazily eating each other up as his head nudges my entrance. I groan into his mouth as he pushes in. He tries to pull back to watch my face, but I hold him tight where he is.

“Just feel.” I remind him, kissing the corners of his mouth. My smooches lead me to his jaw, then to his neck where I sink my teeth into him. He becomes gooey, then increases his thrusts into me. 

“Fuck, I love that.” He moans. “Love everything about you.”

His hips snap and buck into mine. I feel his cock stroking my walls just right, building the tension in me. I moan into his ear, gnawing at his ear lobe to hear him sigh my name. His lips kiss down my chest, then over to my nipple, circling it with his tongue. He sucks it into his mouth as I arch my back. Timo presses me back down so I’m laying flat again. His mouth widens on my breast, getting a tight suction that has me clenching hard around him.

“You feeling better?” He asks me, kissing my nipple, then moving to the other one. I weave my fingers into his hair. My other hand stays on his ass, enjoying the feel of the muscle twitching as he pumps deeper into me. 

“So good, babe.” I whimper, swallowing as I feel the first flick of orgasm. My eyes close and my mouth opens wider, no sound comes out as I crash into the white hot heat. I tighten around him, making him swear, then shoot into me. His head slams into the mattress next to my cheek. A  soft laugh falls from my mouth, fingers trailing up to thread through his dark hair again. “So much better.” I confirm to him, turning to place a kiss on his cheek. He turns his face to capture my lips for the second press.

“I don’t know what I would have done if tonight had ended differently.” He murmurs, blue eyes deepening with worry.

“Guess it’s good we didn’t have to find out.”

“True.” He ghosts his fingers close to my stitches, wincing for me. “I think I’m the one who is supposed to have stitches in this relationship.”

“We could ask Miles to give you a matching pair?” We both chuckle.

“And we have found where my love for you ends.” I scoff, slapping at his shoulder. 

“In that case, get out of me!”

“No. Just a little longer.” He presses his lips to my shoulder while I wrap my legs around his body to hold him in place.