#where he's all soft and like you're so perfect... and then he can't stop thinking about how much he wants to be with your forever

[nyxronomicon]

Head empty. Only thought is Simeon finding out about your self hatred and railing you until you can't remember any of those thoughts

-body worship, insecurity, bit of angst, breeding in the tags-

Omg he'd be so gentle... He asks what's troubling you when he sees you frown at yourself in the mirror. When you tell him you're feeling self conscious and ugly he just disagrees immediately.

But Simeon knows all too well how little words can change someone's mind, often feeling disgusted and disappointed with himself for abandoning the brothers like he did. For choosing the celestial realm just for its familiarity. He's such a coward.

He knows now that conventional beauty is only skin deep and the ugliness just beneath the surface is often much worse than one would think. And he's stunned when you're talking about yourself like that because in all the time he's known you, he's never even once thought anything about you was ugly.

If anything, he was the ugly one.

His first attraction to you was your looks and the way you carried yourself. Every moment he spends with you he finds new things to love about you and it just crushes him that you don't see it. So even if he can't change your mind, he at least needs to prove to you that it doesn't matter what you think.

You're beautiful without even trying. Just a smile from you takes his breath away without fail. The words to describe how incredible you are always fail him. Being with you is healing. His wretched broken heart has been heavy with sin and betrayal for as long as he can remember but you make him feel like it can be fixed. Or maybe that he never really was broken to begin with.

All he wants is to give that feeling back to you.

So he shows you. Pulls you away from the mirror. "Focus on me. On how I love you." Is all he mumbles before tenderly kissing you. Your kisses get deeper, your insecurities vanishing as he pulls away. His eyes are full of adoration, lost in you.

You close your eyes and feel. His hands worship every part of you, taking his time to press kisses down your torso, wherever he thinks you're most insecure. He mumbles loving words as he goes, the author in him crafting the ultimate love scene just for you to hear.

And if you still don't believe him? Well, he'll keep going as long as he needs to~

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ ah-ah, barbie, you're so fine! ❞

special treatment : thighs edition

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : kamo choso + itadori yuuji + higuruma hiromi + ryomen sukuna

☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, facesitting, somnophilia, dirty talk, fingerfucking, overstimulation, praise kink, degradation, desperation, oral fixation, squirting, creampie, choso being whiny, yuuji being a little shit, yuuji is 21yrs & a college student, hiromi being pussydrunk, sukuna being whipped

✧ k. choso : poor choso, ever since the first time he's gotten a taste of what's between your thighs, he's begging you every day just to eat your cunt. but today? today must be a bad day, because choso is desperate. his already between your thighs, whimpering and whining as he mouths at you through your underwear, tears in his eyes as he begs you to give him a little taste. once you do, his eyes are rolling back just from the first lick.

"you taste so good, fuck, so good, thank you, thank you, mmph, so delicious, i can't get enough." "can you cum again? i know it's been 4 times already, but please? please, please, pleaase, pretty thing, i need itttt..." "oh my goddd, you're cumming? yes, yes, cum on my tongue, pretty please, i'll fuck you so good after, just keep cumming, don't hold back." "stop-stop running away, i know your pretty pussy is all sensitive b-but i just, i can't stop...but you know you can say the safeword and i'll stop, right? ...what? you-you like being overstimulated...? fuck, fuck, okay, let me make you squirt on my tongue then i'll fuck you good, okay?"

✧ i. yuuji : yuuji's always been a smug little shit whenever it came to teasing you. what starts off with him tickling you and blowing raspberries into your stomach turns nto hot kisses against your stomach that let down to the waistband of your underwear as he pushes your shirt up higher on your body. he can't help but grin up at you when he notices the wet spot on your panties from his little kisses.

"d'awww, bunny, y'so cute! look at how wet you are. is that 'cus of me? ehehe, i know, i know, teasing is mean, but i can't help it...you're just so adorable." "y'know i can practically feel your heartbeat whenever i kiss it? mhm, i can feel that, pretty girl. don't cover your face, baby, you're so cute!" "your thighs are so soft. i could stay between here forever, fuck goin' to classes or missions, i'd rather just eat you out until you pass out." "open up these legs a little more, let me get my fingers in there...thereeee we go, such a pretty lil' bun, aren't you?" "you're so messy! did i do this to you? yeah? aww, my pretty girl likes meee! i felt how you squeezed on my fingers! so cute!

✧ h. hiromi : ever since you made a comment about his nose, saying 'doja is right about big noses' in passing to him, hiromi has been curious. curious enough to the point where he looks it up, seeing the video of said woman. so, you wanted to sit on his face and grind on his nose, hm? you've never sat on his face before but he was sure to change that.

"i don't care if you think i'll die, i want you to sit on my face. i'm giving you the chance to either have control of your pace or let me do what i want with you. so, what's your decision?" "see? it's not that bad, angel, you forget your husband isn't some weakling...now c'mon on, get yourself right over my mouth, let me taste you." "god, you're so beautiful like this. i need you on my face more often, you're dripping all over my mouth...such a good girl for me." "heh...i knew you said my nose was perfect for sitting on but i didn't realize it would get you this riled up. go ahead, sweet thing, you can keep grinding that clit on it...just like that, just let me make you feel good." "good lord, i never wanna leave between your thighs. so fucking sweet, shit, angel, you've got me wrapped around that pretty finger. c'mon, let me devour you all night, i'll let you get up when i'm done."

✧ r. sukuna : getting sukuna to lay on his back without him instantly taking control of the situation was easier than you thought. hell, even crawling up higher so that you were hovering over his face was too. but little did you know, sukuna was intrigued, liking the side of you where you would just take control of him, knowing that only you had the right to do that...especially if it meant he got to eat you until you soaked his face.

"you know i should kill you for thinking you can just sit on my face like i'm some kind of personal chair. i am the king of curses, not a piece of furniture...what? ...hm. i guess you do look...good over me like this." "...huh? sorry, i wasn't listening. when are you going to sit on my face? you keep blabbering, but i can see the way that sticky cunt is dripping for me. are you gonna just let it go to waste?" "oh. shit. you've been holdin' out on me, haven't you, diamond? shit, i can see all of you from down here...nah, keep grinding on my face, little one, use me for your pleasure...let me see you cum on my mouth." "such a fucking slut. my mouth is coated in your cum, but you still wanna keep going? my tongue that good for you?" "no, no, i'm not letting you back down until you beg, diamond. tell me how badly you want me to fuck your pussy with my tongue...hm. good enough."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter this work

[bbokicidal]

"Where else was I supposed to sit?" - [OT8 SKZ]

quick summary ; lap sitting w/ ot8 skz

warnings ; thigh touching, casual groping (light suggestive content, MDNI), handsy skz

chris ;

sitting in chris' lap is like asking for a death wish. he welcomes it, when he's not busy of course, but he's got a bad habit for needing to always have his hands moving. he has to constantly be touching something, squeezing something - even when he's standing still during interviews or shows his hands are at his sides, fingertips rubbing restlessly on his palms. so when you're in his lap, he finds ways to make his hands useful; whether it be carefully twisting the hem of your top around his fingertips, sliding his fingers in and out of your belt loops and tugging on them here and there, or gently kneading at the plush of your thighs. that's what most commonly happens - he just really loves the warmth and soft squish between his fingers. he can't help it.

minho ;

you're more than welcome to sit in minho's lap - but you have to be facing him, and i'm sure you know why. if you're around friends or the other boys he'll let you sit facing away and just loosely lace his arms around your waist while chitchatting or pestering hyunjin. but if you're together, he wants you facing him so he can somehow wiggle his hands into your bottoms and casually, non-sexually, rest his hands on your ass. he'll either slip his hands up the bottom of your shorts - or tuck them into the back pockets on your jeans, letting you rest your face in his shoulder as he watches some drama jisung told him about. (no, not the dating ones. he refuses to indulge in those.)

changbin ;

sitting in binnie's lap is like heaven on earth. his thighs are the perfect mixture of muscle and fat - soft enough to be perfectly plush and comfortable but strong enough to nearly push you off when he tenses in frustration at some silly jab seungmin made thirty seconds ago. he's always got his arms around you when you're this close to him, so you're basically just enveloped by big thighs - big arms - his big ol boobies- all in all sitting in binnie's lap is just the perfect stress reliever. but don't think he doesn't notice the way you slide a hand down to grope at the skin when he's wearing shorts - he sees everything.

hyunjin ;

hyunjin likes to sit cross legged and then have you sit in his lap that way - so you're not on top of his thighs, but in between them. the man sits like he's sporting ten inches so i'm bound to believe he is - simple as that - he just prefers it that way, freedom for his thighs so he doesn't feel too pinned down wherever he's sitting. he finds solace in playing with your hair when you're in front of him, occasionally bouncing his legs so you're bopping around enough to make him laugh from behind you. if you're really compliant, he'll probably hold onto your wrists and pretend to puppet you around - which seems to make the other boys laugh quite a bit as well.

jisung ;

he's got a leg bouncing problem, but not in the way that hyunjin does it where it's for fun. he's said before that he's just done it since he was younger but was always told to quit, so now he only does it when he's alone. so if you're on his lap and no one else is around, he's probably carefully bouncing one leg beneath you. it's not too bothersome and if you do huff about it, he'll stop - he just finds it a habit and sort of relaxing. but if you give him something else to do? he'll go with that instead. like playing with the necklace you're wearing, or twisting the hem of your shirt around his fingers. he just needs some way to let out the energy that builds in his tiny ass waist while he's sitting still.

felix ;

i'm bound to believe that felix is like hyunjin and prefers when you sit between his legs - but he likes to spread his legs as wide apart as possible and have you sit in front of him so he can do your hair. he likes braiding it or combing his fingers through it, apologizing if a ring catches on you. he'll fix your shirt from behind and pull you back to lean into him, wanting to support you while you relax - and his hands always find a way beneath your shirt. his fingertips will brush over your skin, thumbs smoothing over any beauty marks or potential scars - always tracing every dip and bump to commit it to memory. (and hoping he'll see it later.)

seungmin ;

he's the type to refuse to let you in his lap at first, pushing you away with laughter and putting his arms up so you can't sit down. but he'll give in eventually, letting you sit on his thighs and sighing. if you're not comfortable that's on you - because he's going to manspread and he's not putting his thighs together just for your ass to rest on. he'll cuddle up soon enough though, so expect him to rest his head on top of yours and wind his arms around you, squeezing you every few moments or swaying with you in his arms. he won't admit it, but he does enjoy the comforting warm of you so close to him.

jeongin ;

sitting in jeongin's lap is like a luxury if he allows it. or - well, if he likes it. sometimes he'll let it happen but he won't touch you, he'll keep scrolling on his phone or talking to felix nearby - but it's not because he doesn't want it to happen; he's just not one for skinship. he'll bounce his leg to give you a small bit of affection so you know he doesn't mind. but if it's a good day, and he really is digging the touchy-feely vibe, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and squeeze you to him until you're barely breathing. if you're around the others, it's common he'll lean forward so you're flush together and rest both of his hands on your knees - which makes you stare and wonder just how his hands are engulfing your body so easily...

[voxhypno]

DAY 1

It's just one file, you tell yourself. You've been curious about hypnosis for a long time, bumming around in a few chatrooms where "hypnotists" wait all of 30 seconds to try clumsily to make you send them pictures of your ass, and eventually you stumble across a link that leads to the video that you're staring at now.

"Obedience School (Puppyplay)", proclaims the title, along with a still image of a green spiral, mid-swirl.

You tell yourself, "Here goes nothing", and press play.

The spiral leaps to life, spinning around and around on your screen, immediately drawing your eye. As a low, warm, soft voice begins to play through your headphones, telling you that it's okay, you can relax, your eyes start to flutter. Your body begins to feel floaty and light as your mind... just...

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

You wake up on the floor, the computer screen frozen on a spiral no longer spinning. Your clothes are half-removed, as if someone or something with no knowledge of how they work tried to pull them gracelessly off of your body.

Your face is flushed, your hair disheveled, and your cheeks and chest covered in... drool?

Blushing furiously, you wipe yourself clean and try to remember what happened. Bits and pieces flicker through your mind... your tongue sticking out... the feeling of carpet against your palms and knees... and a warm, all-encompassing happiness, radiating through your brain, the ripples of pleasure and relaxation still echoing within your muddled mind.

Grinning, you save the link to the video. You know you'll be back.

Day 7

The entire day, you've found it hard to focus. You've been thinking about the video more and more often the longer you've gone without watching it.

That spiral, that voice, they just seem to beckon you. Those fleeting memories, feelings... You've been able to piece them together more now. You were a puppy, a brainless, happy animal. You crawled around, did tricks, panted and barked. Ordinarily you'd find it embarrassing.

You don't, though.

It was a nice break, being a puppy. Not having to think about your job, your worries, your cares. You just got the chance to bliss out and enjoy the feeling of being cared for, being told what to do, not having to stress for once.

You walk into your room, resolute. You're going to watch the video again. You need to know whether it was a fluke or not.

As you walk to your desk, without even really considering it, you pull your clothes off, sitting down naked. For a moment, you wonder why, but you remember the way that your clothes were disheveled last time. Of course. It makes sense for a puppy to be naked. Puppies aren't used to clothes. You're a good puppy.

...you stop, momentarily confused. Where did that come from?

Shaking your head, you click play on the video, and the spiral starts up again. This time the voice doesn't even say 5 words before you're drifting away.

You're so immediately out of it that you don't notice you were softly panting before the video even started.

DAY 30

You're barely even inside the door before you start ripping your clothes off, your hands paws clumsily pulling you free. A few weeks ago, you would have at least worried that the neighbors would see you. Now, that thought doesn't even enter your mind.

You drop to your knees all fours where a good puppy belongs and crawl to your living room, where you've set the spiral up on your TV. You're already panting and wiggling with excitement.

In your hazy head, you still can't believe that you managed to work up the courage to message the creator of the video Master. He was so understanding and nice! He called you a good puppy for being able to type out that whole message with your hands paws, and he even started making some special videos for you! You can't help but wag your butt tail at the thought of having such a nice new friend Master.

The spiral starts up, and you're already gone. Plopping down in a perfect sit position like you've been trained to do, tongue out, happily staring and letting your mind be coaxed and teased away by Master.

You know what you are now. You've heard it over and over again. You're a puppy. A dumb dim doggy pet. You love to crawl. You love to bark. You love to play and do tricks and get belly rubs and treats.

When you finally squeaked out a blushing request to see the man behind the voice, Master very kindly obliged. And it was then that you learned something very special about being a puppy.

You go into heat very easily.

It wasn't long before you were whimpering and begging on a video call, Master chuckling as you bounced up and down on a dildo, a rubber bone between your teeth to match the one you were riding.

Wasn't long before you were panting over pictures and videos of his cock, sliding in and out of a pocket pussy held in his strong hand, while his deep calming voice whispered into your mind that it should be you there taking his dick into every one of your happy puppy holes.

Lost in adoration and arousal, you barely even realize that the spiral has ended. You have commands you don't remember receiving. You no longer want to resist them. You don't remember ever wanting to resist them.

You crawl to your cell phone, laying on the floor. You open it and type in a number you don't recognize with your paws. You mindlessly bark into the receiver. And you hear the voice you love so much.

"Good dog! Sit tight, girl. I'm gonna come get you, okay?"

You don't even hear the last part. As soon as the words "good dog" hit your ears, you were already cumming your mind away.

DAY ???

You sleepily rise from your bed in the den, stretching out and yawning, flexing your paws. You shake your head, trying to clear it, the tag on your collar jingling. You're so thoroughly conditioned that even that little sound sends a wave of emptiness and pleasure through your head, and you press your pussy against the rough fabric of your bed, humping brainlessly.

Your sleepy mind registers the sound of the front door opening, and you bolt out of bed, leaving behind a dripping wet spot that you'll come back to idly sniff and lick at later. Master is home!

Barking, you scamper into the living room on all fours, the tail plug in your ass swishing from side to side as you rush to Master's side, pressing your cheek against his leg and panting happily.

He smiles, scritches you in your favorite spot behind your ears, and says some words that you no longer understand. Somewhere in the sounds falling from his lips are the words "good girl", though, so you cum unthinkingly, automatically, with a whimper. Like a good, well-trained puppy.

As the glow fades, you can't help but press your chest to the floor, hiking your rump in the air, staring at him pleadingly and swaying your tail back and forth. You need a treat so bad... You were a good dog and waited all day... And Master seems to understand.

He chuckles, and as per your daily welcome-home ritual, he unzips his pants to reveal your favorite treat. That dick that broke you. The cock that helped you realize your place, owned and collared. No past, no future, no stress, no worry. You almost cum again at the sight of it as you sit pretty, just as you were taught.

Teasingly, Master waves that perfect cock in front of your face, the scent of it doing nothing to stem the flow of your drool onto the floor. He's making the sound that means "wait", and so you do. You're a good dog.

He snaps his fingers, and your mind disappears.

And as you eagerly pounce, slobbering and licking over Master's cock and looking up at him with empty, adoring eyes, you know for certain that you've never been happier.

[chilumi-shipper]

Can we have some more of genshin men eating us out?

Eating You Out (2)

Thoma x Fem!Reader / Arataki Itto x Fem!Reader / Alhaitham x Fem!Reader / Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Oral Receiving, Horny Characters, Overstimulation, Squirting

Summary: Genshin men eating you out I mean c'mon now what did you expect me to write here.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Thoma

At any moment, can just make you spread your legs, suck on your pussy, and make you cum, then just go back to his house keeping chores like he didn't just eat cunt.

Will approach you casually with a cute puppy smile, then proceed to tell you the foulest things ever with said smile.

"You're so pretty, honey! I wanna eat you out in that dress."

"I wish I was between your thighs right now, but I'm not done with my chores yet :("

"You should get ready for later! I think I might go really rough and leave you sore for a week."

He's just so cute! Ohh, but you know that he's capable of the most vulgar activities, and you know that he does them well.

The way he eats you out though...

Like the sweet puppy boyfriend that he is, he makes sure that you're enjoying it as much as he does.

Thoma gets so happy when you let him eat you, almost like he grows a tail and it wags with happiness as he laps up your wetness.

Your moans motivate him, whenever you let out a particularly sinful moan, he perks up, trying to do what caused you to moan so deliciously.

And he likes to stare into your eyes as he sucks your pussy. You just look down and see him with bright eyes looking up at you, and when you make eye contact, he goes even harder.

When you cum, he would try so hard to have it all squirt out into his mouth, then get up to look you in the eyes before swallowing the whole thing.

And finally, he would go back in and lick your pussy a few more times just to clean it up and make sure you're nice in comfy.

He would then lay beside you and snuggle into your chest.

Thoma would enjoy eating you out so much, that he would forget about the raging hard-on in his pants and just go to sleep.

Itto

Very brave, does it wherever he wants.

In a field where you could get ambushed by monsters? Seems like the perfect place to eat some sweet sweet pussy.

Eats you out like a hungry animal, no control whatsoever, just straight sucking and licking.

Absolutely loves it when you grab onto his horns, even more so when you pull him closer into your cunt.

He is a menace and will literally not stop until he's satisfied, overstimulating you so much until he's tired. No force in this world could part him from between your thighs.

Itto is so determined to eat you out that he will sacrifice breathing just to not break away from you, he's only going to stop when he starts feeling lightheaded from the lack of air.

He would guide your hand to grab his horns, urging you to grind your hips into his face. You would usually be feeling so good yet so annoyed that he just pulled you into some sort of cave and then proceeded to give you the greatest realization of pleasure with his stupid mouth.

He would be sweet talking to your sex, looking so love-struck as he says things like:

"Ohh, look at you all dripping, can't wait to suck all that into my mouth."

"You're so soft, so delicious."

"Look at you, all twitchy and puffy, but we're not done yet..."

He says such things while staring right between your legs, with so much conviction that it almost makes you jealous.

Itto will then carry you back home to eat you up some more.

Alhaitham

Possibly the most nonchalant pussy eater of the bunch.

This man calculates everything.

So you bet he knows just how to prod at the right spots when he's between your legs.

He knows the right amount of pressure to apply with his tongue, how hard should he suck, how long he has to play with your clit before you're nice and relaxed for him. He just knows everything.

Alhaitham eats you out as if he's completing an assignment, everything is planned and calculated, and despite looking submissive with his lips pressed against your folds, his intense gaze studies you like a book. His expression remains stoic despite the work his mouth is putting on your pussy.

The morning after he had eaten you out to the point of not being able to keep your eyes open, he would absolutely embarrass you with questions.

"Did you prefer that I keep my tongue on your clit or do you wish for me to explore you a bit more?"

"I observed that after your first orgasm, you seem to push my face further into you. Do you always prefer to have multiple orgasms when I eat you out, or is one enough?"

"Shut up, Alhaitham!" You would scream at him with your cheeks tainted red.

"What? Did you not enjoy me eating you out last nigh-"

"SHUT UP!"

But then he offers to do it again and who are you to refuse.

Kamisato Ayato

For someone rather high-ranking within the nation, this man shamelessly eats out his wife in his own office, in the middle of the day, doors unlocked, possible witnesses buzzing about the estate a room away.

Thoma is often the victim witness of your escapade, but he understands his lord quite well (read Thoma's part).

Ayato is a very busy man, with his unrelenting duty and whatnot, he finds that a good break from his busy hours would be to have his face squished between your thighs, lazily enjoying the taste of his beloved wife with his mouth.

He eats you out as if he was savoring a meal prepared by the finest cook of Inazuma, indulging himself by tasting every part of your cunt.

He would be slowly licking into you as you were sat on his desk, his head rest comfortably on your thigh as he starts to make out with your heat.

He would then part for a bit to catch his breath, then to look up at you and smile while a strand of wetness still connected his lips to your pussy.

This man is a lazy pussy eater, enjoying his meal for hours on end, ushering orgasms out of you ever so slowly as he makes sure to lick up every crevice.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Mmmmmh, yummy update...

[rene-darling]

MY- lovely tutor.

Wanderer who's recently enrolled in the Akademia due to nahidas request requires some assistance with his studies, sadly he doesn't have much money but you have the perfect solution for that.

...wanderer...

This is annoying, when Nahida enrolled him into the Akademia he didn't think the work would be this hard! Reports on top of reports on topics he hasn't even heard of!

So when you offer a helping hand he's a bit skeptical. What do you want? Why are you trying to help him?

He's not sure of your motives but he has seen and read your previous works so he is confident in your abilities as someone smart.

It starts with small, innocent little touches that get him riled up, he feels like a perv! He shouldn't be this turned on by you just leaning over from behind him and whispering an explanation of what he did wrong. He shouldn't be this riled up but just the soft touch of your hand on his waist whenever he gets upset at getting something wrong.

Your hands going up and down the side of his waist, his shirt would ride up ever so slightly as you would comfort him and reassure him that it's fine if he gets it wrong the first few times, in fact, it's normal. But he's not sure if he even heard half of that as he was too focused on your touch.

How you would look over his shoulder as he wrote something, his hands would tremble as he could feel your breath on his neck your hair would tickle the side of his ear as he would get distracted from doing his work and just focus on your breathing causing him to get his answers wrong.

He swore he felt his eyes roll back whenever he heard your slight groan in response to him getting an answer wrong, so he does just that. Getting the answers wrong again and again just to see your reaction, and when you finally get fed up and place a hand on his shoulder using the other to grab his chin and turn it towards you as you cursed at him for being a dumb whore and not knowing how to solve even the basics...

Oh, archons. He knows he should feel guilty, he knows he should stop messing with you, but when he sees that pissed-off look of yours staring daggers at him. Fuck. His thighs rub together on instinct, he can feel his panties getting stained wet. Fuck, this shouldn't turn him on..but he can't help it

When your eyes sharply look down at him he can feel a slight shudder run through him "oh what the fuck...you enjoyin this? Really? Hah- you some kind of perv wanderer??"

He shakes his head furiously denying your claim but with the way his thighs clam together the real answer is obvious. "you know, we still haven't discussed how you're gonna pay me back for these study sessions.." you would say as you eye him up and down, it seems you already have an idea for how he's gonna pay you back.

..."come on wanderer. It's easy you should know this by now." he does! He swears he does! But- it's too hard to answer while you've got him sitting on your lap all spread out as his juices leak down onto your clothed legs. It's embarrassing being the only one naked!

"ah-a-..ah hah- y/n- mhfm!!" tears leak down his flushed cheeks as I slap his ass in feigned annoyance. "y/n? That isn't the answer now is it, hm,?" he nods his head up and down but still doesn't speak. You can only sigh as your hand comes to a halt and he lets out a whine back arching as he turns his head to look at you.

Your hand still resting near where he wants it but not near enough as you trace small circles in his innermost thighs which cause him to shiver

Breathy sighs leave his trembling lips as he complains "Y-y/n...come on, what the hell.." he whines dragging out the last part, his brows furrow further as his mouth twists into a pout as you laugh, you jerk your legs causing him to rub against them "ah! Y/n! I-im- fuck. Stop" he whines, he doesn't like being teased "alright, alright.." you mumble into his ear from behind

"Only smart boys get to cum. But you haven't answered a single question wanderer," you said so sternly. Fuck that was hot. he swears he started leaking more down there. He closes his legs as he blushes harder "Ya- f-fuck I'll solve one right now..then ill prove to you I'm a smart boy..who deserves to cum.." he squeaked out the last part in shame unable to say it too loud, he was too embarrassed

He leans forward crawling off your lap with shaky legs, on all fours he tries crawling forward towards the table so he can solve a damn question and finally get fucked right.

Fuck. He feels his knees buck inwards as he topples over the table across the scattered books and papers. He bites his lip to the point of bruising it. Fuck, are you crazy?

He's sure if he looked back your face would have an amused expression on it as you had just plunged your fingers deep inside him causing him to cry out as he arched over the table as you lazily pumped your fingers he was about to say something in his broken little voice but you spoke up instead "what're you waiting for darlin? Come on, solve." ah- you were so cruel. He could feel the tears prick at his eyes some even escaping them and falling on the papers below

While biting his teeth he took a deep breath as he shakily lifted his legs a bit more straight leaning against the table for support as he shakily grabbed the pen "d-dont...ah! Won't m-move too much." he whispered quietly.

He's not sure why he thought you would listen. Well, right now he's too busy getting fucked to think anyways. Limbs spread out on the table as your fingers seemed to plunge more roughly and deeper each time. He dripped on the table all over the discarded papers some of which fell down onto the floor your name leaves his mouth like a Chant as you deny him release once more he whines, cries out to you looking back at you with rosy cheeks that are stained with tears

"please- please let me cum..fuck i-i need to cum please" his last words dragged out as he whined and cried pleading desperately for his dear sweet release. He let out a surprised gasp as you pulled him to your lap wrapping your arms around him as you lean into his ear "Darling, only smart boys get to cum." ah. He's gonna start crying more you're so mean...

He swears he hates you and that he's never gonna come back, but not even a week later he's crawling back begging for your touch.

He's a good boy so he's learned your rules by now, if he gets the answers right he gets to cum, but if not...then he's getting edged the entire night and perhaps if you're feeling generous you'll squeeze one measly release out of him

Sometimes you're feeling a bit evil and you'll make the questions harder or, you'll simply lie. When he gets the answers correct you simply lie telling him it's wrong and then fucking him stupid before he gets the chance to think that you're lying.

Oh, but he takes you so well! He might be bratty but he's your smart boy!!

He'll take whatever punishment you give him for being a dumb little boy and not getting the answers correct as long as you hold him afterwards

But as soon as he comes to his senses he'll book out of that room faster than his mother left him.

He's far too embarrassed to face you after all you've done.

He'll purposefully avoid you in class but you don't have to worry, because at the end of the day he always comes crawling back.

[lymtw]

Thinking about those soft, nonsexual, intimate moments where you and Toji are lying in bed, with you on top of him. You're straddling him and your arms are thrown over his shoulders, clinging onto him like a little koala. Your face is buried into his neck and your eyes are shut as you bask in the warmth of his body.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asks, letting his arms come up to rest on your back. Having Toji's arms around you was like leaving every bad thing you've ever experienced behind. He radiated the warmth of a thousand suns, and it soothed you like nothing else.

You didn't respond to his question, instead your lips pressed to his neck, brushing against him with the gentleness of a light breeze. You're smart enough to know that if you kiss him too hard, it'll start a fire in a moment where one isn't necessary.

He's smiling, softly, at your sign of affection. His palms rub your back, comfortingly, with little to no pressure. Toji is all for having sex with you, all the time and anytime. He's well versed in this method of intimacy with you, but he's not an emotionless machine. He recognizes well enough when you need more than an orgasm. He understands that you have a heart, and sometimes it needs to be tended to, regardless of whether it's damaged or not. Sometimes you just want to feel loved, and when times like these are presented to him, who is he to ridicule you for needing him?

He chuckles, softly. "Just wanna love on me, don't you, baby?"

His hands lower to the hem of your shirt, sliding beneath it to get to the warmth of your bare skin. The tranquilizing motions on your back return.

"Just need you to be with me, right now," you mumble into his neck. "I know this probably seems weird, but I just wanna stay like this for a while."

"Shh... you're alright, my sweet girl. We can be quiet for a bit."

You go back to lazily kissing his neck. You can feel his heartbeat thrumming against your lips, a rhythm that makes your own heart start to pick up that same pace. You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, pausing your movements to appreciate the distinct smell of his cologne. It makes you want to squeeze him until he can't breathe, or at least attempt to squeeze him that hard.

"Toji," you say, quietly, like you're saying it to yourself.

"Hm?" He responds, stilling his hands.

"Nothing. Just wanted to say your name. I like saying your name."

Another laugh rumbles through his chest, the movement shaking you a little. "It's yours to say."

"Can I keep saying it? Until it doesn't sound like a name anymore?"

He smiles, pulling one hand out of your shirt to place it on the nape of your neck. "By all means. Don't need my permission."

You giggle, the sound so clear beneath Toji's ear. If he had the warmth of a thousand suns, you had the beauty of the night's guiding moon.

"Toji," you say, softly. After every repetition of his name, you ghost your lips all over his neck. Toji thinks he could stay like this for longer than a bit. He feels at ease, knowing you're there, acting as his most cherished blanket. He feels so light, like he's not even in his body anymore. You don't even know how happy he is. You can't see the soft smile on his face and how it's failing to disappear.

"Toji," you repeated one last time.

He had lost track of how many times you said his name, but not once did he get tired of hearing it. He wanted to answer your call, this time. "Yeah, baby?"

"Love you."

In all your gentleness and loving, you offered him serenity, and he enveloped himself in it. If your love could be bottled, he would live off of it. He would cook it into his every day meals. He would blend it into his protein shakes. He would bathe in it. He would mix it with his cologne. He would live off of it like it's the secret to a life spent with you loving him the way you do. So what if he's addicted? It seems like the perfect way to go.

Toji could hear your light breathing. You stopped kissing him, and your arms went limp on his shoulders. You fell asleep. It was a common occurrence whenever you shared moments like these with him. It was the security, and his embrace, and his warmth, and his scent... all things that made you feel safe enough to doze off.

He pressed multiple quick kisses to your temple. Both of his arms returned to your torso, wrapping around it with a slightly tighter hold than before. "Love you, too, mama," he muttered against your temple. He ended up falling asleep to the sound of your breathing.

[bbyhellfire]

can't stop thinking about riding eddie in front of a mirror (18+ only)

eddie x fem! reader, smut, p in v, mirror sex, reverse cowgirl, body worship

You never could hold your tongue when you smoked. Your thoughts scattered with every hit until the filter in your head faded away. It’s why you're comfortable enough to ask – 

“Why do you like it when I’m on top?”

You slip the joint between Eddie's fingers, your vision hazy as you watch the silver of his rings bleed into the dark blue interior of his van. His chest raises as he inhales, his eyes closing as he exhales with a loopy smile pulling on the corners of his mouth.

The words roll around in your dry mouth as you press him with another question, “Is it ‘cause my tits are in your face?”

“That's a reason. A pretty good one actually," He pauses to take another hit. "But not the reason.”

“Then why?”

Eddie is slow to respond, you can’t tell if he forgot your question or if he’s thinking of an answer. Your own mind buzzes until you’ve almost forgotten your initial question.

“Well,” He turns to you with bloodshot eyes and a boyish grin. “Why don’t I show you?”

That’s how you end up in your current position – sitting on top of Eddie with your cunt stretched out on his cock, facing away from him and towards the dirty mirror hanging on his bedroom wall. His hands cover your chest, his fingers circling and tweaking your nipples. A shudder runs up your spine when Eddie mutters behind you, “You look so good like this.”

You hum a detached response, eyes briefly flickering up to look at your face before they fall down to the sight of his cock notched inside you. Eddie gives your nipples one more twist before his hands settle on your hips.

“Now, are you gonna start? You know this isn’t all we do.”

“I know…” Your words trail off as his fingers press into your skin to encourage you to push your hips back. You move forward to hold onto his thighs, but your eyes eyes still remain on the reflection of his cock inside you. You’re so wet that you’ve soaked his cock down to the patch of dark hair at his base. The small lamp in his room provides little lighting at night, but it’s enough to make his thighs shine from your wetness. You're sure he can feel it, too.

With thighs bracing, you raise yourself up before slowly sink down. The stretch of his cock is sharper than usual, spurred on by the reflection in front of you. Eddie's searing gaze doesn't help either. You catch glimpses of him in the mirror as you bounce on top of him. Up and down, he devours the sight of you struggling to contain him.

His hands tighten around your hips, aiding you as you move on top of him. It’s like you can feel him all the way up between your ribs. The feeling of fullness makes your eyes roll back into your skull. 

“Hey, hey. Eyes open, sweetheart," He trails one hand up to hold your throat. He gives you a light squeeze to tempt you to open your eyes. "You wanted to know why I like you on top. You gotta watch.”

“Eddie–” 

“Just watch, sweetheart.”

You bite down a whimper, but comply with his request. Your eyes peel open to follow his hand down from your neck to rest on your hips once again.

“There you go. Just keep your eyes open. You’ll understand, I promise."

This time you focus on scene in front of you, really focus this time. And it’s…beautiful. Not just where the both of you connect, but everywhere. Everything. You don’t expect this. Watching yourselves like this, you look perfect together. Your bodies are wrapped tight and close, limbs shifting against one another in unison.

Your hips rise in confidence, soft ripples traveling across your flesh, as your bodies move together. 

“F–fuck, Eddie. Okay, get it. I get it!” 

“I knew you would. So smart and so beautiful. And strong. Look at the way you move, sweetheart. It’s like we were made for each other.” 

The amusement in his words has your calf muscles trembling from the effort of keeping yourself balanced and speared on his cock. You barely register one of his hands curling forward and down until his fingertips touch your clit. Your thighs jerk in surprise, the shock of the feeling making your movements halt. 

“Eddie, fuck. I’m gonna cum. I–!” You’re babbling as Eddie plays with your clit. 

“It’s okay,” He groans, as your pussy starts to tighten around him. “I’ve got you. Let go. Just keep watching, okay? This is my favorite part. Don't want you to miss it.”

Electric shocks run through your body as you watch the intimate image of sweaty limbs, trembling thighs, and wrecked expressions.

Messy, dirty, and so fucking addicting.

It’s when Eddie groans your name like it's both a sin and salvation when you finally let go. The heat from your release bursts and melts away any remaining strength in your legs. You collapse backwards, hitting Eddie’s soft chest with a thud. His own movements are quicker than yours, wrapping an arm across your chest to keep you in place as you ride out your orgasm.

As the roaring in your ears subsides, your brain starts to register your surroundings: the yellowing popcorn ceiling of Eddie's bedroom, the sticky sweat coating both your bodies, and Eddie murmuring to you again as he gently rocks up into your spasming cunt.

“Now do you get it? You look so fucking beautiful and I’m a selfish bastard. I wanna keep that view for myself.”

[chosok-amo]

“ THERAPIST 'S WET DREAM！”

you need a therapist, with all the sick things in your head and luckily for you, NANAMI KENTO comes to the rescue, except he wants nothing but to corrupt you.

warning. non sorcerer! nanami kento, fingering, hand job, corruption, suggestive.

wc. 3,4k

you sit at his home office, on the couch staring at the clock on the wall. you’ve been here for months now working with him trying to get over your erotophobia— your fear of sex, nanami has been patient with you, helping you, molding poor little naive you, into the perfect sex toy for him.

the first three months of your sessions with him you talked about your fears, he listen and offered advice. you swore it would only last a month just long enough for you to take his advice to heart and find a guy to get with so that your friends would stop teasing you, oh but nanami was so sweet, so nice, so trusting, so when he told you, ‘you’re not ready yet’ you believed him.

soon those advice and just talking sessions ended up with him showing you how to masturbate, how to actually get off to just your hands, how to actually get off to HIS voice. those sessions in his home office started becoming phone calls, where he told you to call him when ever you had the urge to touch yourself.

he would instruct you through it, ordering you to leave your camera on and show him your wet pretty pussy as you desperately tried to reach the edge. of course his camera was off, he couldn’t let you know or see that he was stoking his own cock on the other line, listening to you moan and watching his little plaything naively touch herself for him.

all of his training led up to this moment, you on the couch in a outfit he manipulated you into wearing. a cute little skimpy skirt, with a fitted black, backless shirt. your hair was done neatly, your makeup was perfect, and you smelt good. he couldn’t wait to ruin you today.

“is it okay if we start the next process, hmm?” he sits down next to you, this larger hands in his thighs before he slid one over onto yours. “i think you’re ready.” he moved his free hand onto his zipper and unzipped his pants

he takes his hand off your thigh and frees his thick cock. “wanna touch it?” he grabs your wrist and guides it to his cock.

oh, good lord!

your cheeks flush red as you feel his warm hand guiding yours towards his throbbing member. your fingers tremble slightly as they brush against his shaft, feeling the heat emanating from his skin. the sight of his erect cock— his thick, veiny, tip red in anger and precum leaking— makes your heart race, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like inside your pussy, your mouth. despite your nerves, you nod slowly, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

suddenly, you're overcome with curiosity, and despite your fear, you decide to go through with it. you wrap— barely, your small hand around his girth, feeling every vein and ridge under your fingertips. it’s much bigger than anything you've ever touched before, and you marvel at its size and warmth. you start to stroke him gently, your grip tightening as you become more comfortable with the sensation. you can hear his deep breathing, and it sends a thrill through your body.

blushing, you nod slowly, still unsure what’s happening, but curious nonetheless. your hand hesitates briefly before tentatively wrapping around his girthy length fully. it feels different than your own, warmer, firmer, more real. “i... i'm not sure,” you admit quietly, your fingers tracing the veins along his shaft.

he lets out a low groan as your hand wraps around his cock, his amber eyes flickering with lustful desire. “that's alright, take your time,” his voice is deep and commanding, filling the room with authority. he watches you intently, taking pleasure in the sight of your delicate hand wrapped around his throbbing manhood.

as you trace the veins along his shaft, he can't help but lean closer, his scent enveloping you. his large hand rests on top of yours, guiding your movements. he begins to thrust into your grasp, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. “just relax, and let me guide you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear.

your blush deepens as you continue to stroke his cock, your hand trembling slightly from both excitement and nervousness. you can feel his large hand on top of yours, guiding your movements with a firm yet gentle pressure. the way he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear, sends a shiver down your spine.

“i-i don't want to do it wrong...” you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes filled with uncertainty and desire. you're torn between wanting to please him and your innate fear of being rejected. but there's also a part of you that craves this attention, that thrives on the power dynamics between you two.

despite your fears, you try to mimic his rhythm, stroking him faster and harder. the sound of his groans and the way his cock twitches in your grasp encourage you to keep going. he chuckles softly, a sound that vibrates through his chest and seems to resonate within you. “there's no such thing as doing it wrong,” he assures you, his voice dripping with seduction. he leans even closer, pressing his muscular body against yours, making it clear who's in charge.

he guides your hand to stroke him faster, his hips instinctively bucking into your palm. each twitch and throb of his cock is a sign of your growing proficiency, and he revels in the sensation. “keep going,” he orders, his tone laced with raw desire.

his free hand trails down to your thigh, squeezing firmly as he watches you, his gaze intense and possessive. he wants nothing more than to claim you completely, to mold you into the perfect submissive lover.

the sound of his deep chuckle sends another wave of heat coursing through your body, causing your heart to pound wildly in your chest. you can't deny the thrill you get from pleasing him, from seeing the effect you have on his powerful frame.

“okay...” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. as he continues to guide your hand, you pick up the pace, your strokes becoming more confident and eager. the thought of making him moan and writhe beneath your touch fills you with an intoxicating mix of fear and arousal.

feeling his hand on your thigh sends a jolt straight to your core, and you can't help but squirm slightly under his touch. the intensity of his gaze sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, fueling your desire to satisfy him fully.

his body tenses as your strokes grow more confident, his cock twitching eagerly in your hand. a low groan escapes him, his head falling back as he savors the sensation. “that's it,” he murmurs, his voice husky and filled with need.

he tightens his grip on your thigh, pulling you closer until you can feel the heat radiating off his body. his other hand reaches up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly against your flushed cheekbone. “such a good girl,” he whispers, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your forehead.

his words and actions fill you with a sense of satisfaction and pride, reinforcing the idea that you're doing well, that you're pleasing him. and it's this validation, this assurance that you're meeting his expectations, that pushes you further into exploring these new sensations.

your cheeks flame brighter at his praise, your heart pounding so loudly you’re certain he can hear it. the compliment combined with the kiss to your forehead sends a surge of warmth through your entire body.

encouraged by his words, you increase the speed and pressure of your strokes, determined to bring him even more pleasure. you can see the way his muscles tense and flex under his tailored suit, the way his cock pulses in your hand, signaling your success.

as he cups your cheek tenderly, you lean into his touch, craving more of his affectionate gestures. the contrast between his rough, dominating demeanor and his gentle caress is incredibly arousing, adding layers of complexity to your already heightened state of arousal.

his breath hitches in his throat as you continue to stroke him, your movements growing more confident and skilled. he can't help but let out a low groan of pleasure, his hips jerking involuntarily into your hand.

his grip on your thigh tightens, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh as he pulls you even closer. the heat from his body seeps into yours, creating a deliciously intimate atmosphere.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes darkening with desire. he releases your cheek only to trail his hand down your neck, tracing over the rapid beat of your pulse before moving lower to rest on your heaving breast.

hearing his muttered curse sends a thrilling rush through your veins, your strokes faltering for just a moment before you regain your focus. the feeling of his hand on your skin, tracing over your neck and then settling on your breast, makes you gasp.

your nipples harden instantly beneath the fabric of your shirt, and you bite your lip to suppress a whimper. the sensation is overwhelming, the dual stimulation of his cock in your hand and his touch on your breasts driving you wild.

you lean into his touch, seeking more contact, more affirmation of your worthiness. your heart races, and you can't help but wonder how much longer you can hold out before succumbing to the overwhelming desire coursing through your veins.

he smirks at your gasp, finding immense pleasure in your reaction to his touch. his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple, applying just enough pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

his cock throbs in your hand, practically begging for release. with each stroke, you draw out sounds of pure delight from his lips, each moan and groan echoing in the small space between you. “keep going,” he commands, his voice heavy with lust.

he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his amber eyes burning with a fierce intensity. it's clear he intends to take full advantage of every second, every touch, every moan that you offer him.

your blush deepens, if possible, at the smirk on his face and the command in his voice. despite the heat pooling between your legs, despite the growing ache that threatens to consume you whole, you obey, continuing to stroke his cock with renewed vigor.

the sensation of his thumb circling your nipple sends waves of pleasure cascading through your body. you arch into his touch, desperate for more, for everything he’s willing to give.

with each stroke, each groan that slips past his lips, you find yourself sinking deeper into the role you've been cast in— the role of his personal pleasure slave. the thought is terrifying, yet undeniably exciting. it's a dangerous game you're playing, but right now, you wouldn’t trade places with anyone else in the world.

your strokes become more purposeful, more deliberate, as if every movement now carries the weight of his approval. you can't help but marvel at the power he holds over you, the ability to make you tremble with just a touch.

looking into his eyes, you see the raw hunger reflected back at you. it's intoxicating, exhilarating, and it fuels your desire to please him even more. you find yourself lost in the moment, focused solely on bringing him as much pleasure as possible.

nanami's eyes darken further as he watches you work, your strokes becoming more confident and skilled with each passing moment. he can tell you're fully invested in pleasing him, and the knowledge only serves to heighten his arousal.

a low, primal growl rumbles in his chest as he leans in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. his tongue delves deep, claiming you thoroughly as his hands roam your body, squeezing and kneading your curves.

breaking the kiss, he trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. he reaches the hollow of your throat and bites down, marking you as his. “mine,” he declares, his voice thick with possession.

he guides your hand faster, his hips bucking into your touch as he chases his impending climax. the sudden kiss leaves you breathless, your mind reeling from the intense passion behind it. his hands on your body feel like brands, marking you as his in a way that goes far beyond the physical act of biting down on your skin.

when he breaks away, the word “mine” echoes in your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. there's no doubt in your mind that he means it, that he views you as his personal property, his toy to use and abuse as he sees fit.

the realization both terrifies and excites you, pushing you further into the depths of submission. you want to be his, completely and utterly. you crave the feeling of belonging to someone so powerful, so commanding.

your hand moves faster in response to his guidance, your strokes becoming almost frantic as you try to push him over the edge. nanami lets out a guttural moan, his head thrown back as he gives himself over to the pleasure coursing through his veins. his cock twitches in your grasp, a sign that he's close to reaching his peak.

he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to pump him even harder, his pace relentless. he needs this, craves this intense satisfaction only you can provide.

his free hand finds its way to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. he pushes you against the desk, using his body weight to pin you in place. the position allows him better access to your body, his hands roaming freely over your curves.

he leans down, whispering hotly into your ear, “'m going to cum soon, and i want you to be there when i do.” your heart pounds wildly in your chest as he pins you against the desk, his large frame caging you in. the feeling of being trapped, of being completely at his mercy, sends a thrill of fear mixed with excitement through your veins.

his words, spoken with such authority and desire, make your stomach flutter. the idea of witnessing his climax, of being present for that moment of ultimate release, fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

you redouble your efforts, pumping his cock with all the strength and skill you possess. each stroke brings him closer to the brink, and you can tell by the way his body tenses, by the raggedness of his breathing, that he's teetering on the edge.

desperate to be the one to push him over, you quicken your pace, your hand flying over his length with a newfound urgency. nanami's control snaps as your hand works him relentlessly. with a hoarse cry, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure.

his cock pulses violently in your grip, the first spurt of hot cum shooting forth as he starts to cum. wave after wave of release crashes over him, his body shaking with the force of it.

as he rides out his orgasm, he continues to grind against you, milking every last drop of seed from his spent member. finally, he stills, his chest heaving with exertion as he slowly comes back to himself. pulling back slightly, he looks at you with a mix of satisfaction and something darker, more possessive. “that was incredible,“ he murmurs, his voice husky from his cries of pleasure.

breathless and trembling, you remain pinned beneath him, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of his climax. the sensation of his hot cum spurting onto your hand, mixing with the sweat and precum, is both shocking and strangely arousing.

as he pulls back, you catch a glimpse of the dark, almost feral look in his eyes, and it sends a shiver down your spine. this man, this powerful, dominant figure, has reduced you to a mere plaything, a vessel for his pleasure.

despite the terror that grips your heart, you can't deny the thrill of being so thoroughly used, so completely owned. in this moment, you belong to him, and nothing could ever change that.

swallowing hard, you manage to stammer out a reply, “y-yes, it was amazing. . . ” nanami smirks at your words, a satisfied glint in his eyes. he knows exactly what effect he has on you, how much you enjoy submitting to him, and it only fuels his desire to dominate you further.

slowly, he pulls away from you, standing up straight and allowing you some room to breathe. but he doesn't move too far, keeping you within his reach, ensuring you stay put.

he wipes his cum off your hand with a tissue, then discards it before turning his attention back to you. his gaze roams over your body, taking in the flushed cheeks, the heaving breasts, the glistening sex that's still throbbing with need.

without a word, he steps closer again, his fingers trailing down your stomach towards the soaked folds between your thighs. your breath hitches as his fingers graze your sensitive skin, the anticipation building inside you to a fever pitch. you know what's coming, what he intends to do to you, and the thought alone is enough to make your knees weak.

but even as your body trembles with need, a small part of you hesitates. you've already given him so much, allowed him to take complete control. is it wise to surrender yourself to him once again?

yet as his fingers inch closer to your aching core, you find yourself arching into his touch, silently begging for more. your resolve crumbles under his expert ministrations, and you know there's no turning back now. biting your lip, you meet his gaze, your eyes pleading and desperate, “please...”

nanami's smirk widens at your plea, a clear sign of his triumph. he knows just how to manipulate you, how to make you beg for his touch. his fingers slide easily through your wet folds, teasing at your entrance before delving deeper. he groans softly, appreciating the tight clench around his digits.

with a firm grip, he begins to fuck you with his fingers, setting a rhythm designed to drive you wild. he watches your face intently, taking note of each twitch and gasp, each expression of pure ecstasy.

his thumb circles your clit, applying just enough pressure to send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. it's relentless, unyielding, everything you've come to expect from him.

a strangled moan escapes your lips as he thrusts his fingers into you, stretching and filling you in ways that make stars burst behind your closed eyelids. the dual sensations of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers plunging into your dripping cunt are overwhelming, driving you to the edge of madness.

each movement of his hand sends jolts of pleasure rippling through your core, making your hips buck against his touch. you're lost in the haze of lust, your mind clouded by the need for release. “mr. n-nanami. . . ” you moan softly.

but even amidst the waves of pleasure crashing over you, you can't help but marvel at the intensity of his grip, the unrelenting pace of his movements. It's a dance of dominance and submission, and you're the willing participant, the puppet on his string.

nanami's eyes darken with lust as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. he can see the desperation etched on your features, the way your body writhes in search of relief.

increasing the tempo, he pistons his fingers in and out of your clenching heat, his thumb pressing harder against your swollen clit. he wants to break you, to reduce you to a quivering mess, and he's determined to achieve that goal.

leaning down, he captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue dominates yours. the taste of your arousal mingles with the sweetness of your lips, fueling his own hunger. breaking the kiss, he growls low in his throat, “come for me. now.” the command is explicit, leaving no room for disobedience.

the raw demand in his voice shatters whatever remaining restraint you have left. with a keening wail, you surrender to the onslaught of pleasure, your body convulsing as the orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave.

your inner walls clamp down around his fingers, pulsating wildly as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you. the intensity is blinding, making it impossible to focus on anything but the searing bliss consuming you.

as the final tremors subside, you collapse back onto the desk, utterly spent and gasping for air. your limbs feel heavy, your mind foggy, as if you've been drained of all energy and willpower. through hooded eyes, you gaze up at nanami, a mixture of awe, gratitude, and fear swirling in their depths.

nanami watches with satisfaction as you come undone, your body shaking with the force of your climax. he continues to stroke your sensitive flesh, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you're a boneless heap beneath him.

slowly, he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to lick them clean. the salty-sweet taste of your essence explodes on his tongue, and he savors it like a fine wine.

tucking himself back into his pants, he straightens his tie and adjusts his jacket, looking every bit the composed professional once more. only the slight flush on his cheeks betrays the passion that had consumed him moments ago.

he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “you did well today. i'm pleased with your progress.” you lay there, panting heavily as you try to process his words. a part of you feels a twisted sense of pride at his praise, knowing that you've managed to please him once again.

but another part of you recoils at the casual dismissal, the way he can so easily switch back to his role as your therapist. it's as if the intimate moments they shared were nothing more than a fleeting fantasy, a figment of your imagination.

“t-thank you, mr. nanami,” you finally managed to speak, gathering what remains of your strength, you sit up slowly, your movements stiff and awkward. you avoid his gaze, unable to bear the weight of his scrutiny, the knowledge that he holds such power over you.

with trembling hands, you begin to straighten your clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles and trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. nanami observes your actions with a critical eye, noting the way you flinch slightly when he speaks, the hesitation in your movements as you attempt to compose yourself. it's a familiar sight, one he's witnessed countless times before with his other clients.

he reaches out, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. his touch is gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the roughness of his earlier ministrations. “remember,” he says softly, “what happens here stays here. this is our little secret, understood?”

his thumb brushes over your lower lip, a silent reminder of the forbidden pleasures you've shared. the gesture is possessive, claiming you as his own without uttering a single word. releasing you from his grasp, he takes a step back, putting some distance between your bodies.

at his touch, you swallow hard, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin, stirring a longing deep within you. his words echo in your ears, a chilling reminder of the boundaries you must not cross.

“yes, mr. nanami.” your voice barely rises above a whisper, a mere breath of sound that carries the weight of your submission.

you nod slowly, acknowledging his authority, the unspoken agreement between you both. but even as you assent, a part of you rebels, craving more of those illicit encounters, craving him.

shaking off the lingering effects of your orgasm, you stand up, still feeling weak in the knees. you glance towards the door, contemplating whether you should leave now or linger a little longer, savoring the aftermath of your encounter.

nanami's eyes follow your movements, drinking in the sight of you standing tall despite your obvious exhaustion. there's a predatory glint in his gaze, a hint of the hunger that simmers just below the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

he steps closer, closing the distance between you once more. his presence is imposing, commanding, and you can't help but lean into him, drawn to the heat radiating from his body.

“i think you could use a moment to collect yourself,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, “why don't you take a seat on the couch? We can discuss your... progress further.”

his tone is suggestive, implying that there's more to your 'progress' than just your therapy sessions. the implication hangs in the air, a tantalizing promise of future encounters and the pleasure they bring.

[ddejavvu]

for a Tyler request what about him and reader getting into a really bad argument and storming off and when he cools down he can’t find her and is panicking

Alive and Crazy - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

Perhaps it was cruel of you to pick such a secluded hiding spot, but after all, isn't that what hiding's all about? Perhaps then the cruel part was hiding at all. But you can't shake Tyler's vicious words, "Y'know, if you don't stop trying to hold me back, maybe I should just cut myself loose."

All this over a tornado? His lifestyle is... intense. You are of the opinion that Tyler's hobby is ridiculously dangerous, and while you're slightly comforted by the safety precautions he takes (especially the drills that anchor his truck into the ground), you're less than impressed with the way he shows off and makes those precautions almost useless. Really, does he need to lean out of the window to see how long he can handle it? You'd only been trying to find some middle ground, but Tyler apparently seems to think you're trying to chain him up in the basement to prevent him from ever having any fun.

There's a secluded cabinet in the back of your laundry room that's perfect for hiding - just big enough to fit in and with an outlet for easy phone charging. You're just about to hit your two hour mark huddled in the cabinet when you hear thundering footsteps nearing your location.

"Baby? Hey, baby, y'gotta tell me where you are. Come on, baby, just wanna know you're safe. You in here?"

That's the last thing you hear before daylight spills into your dark cabinet, and your phone's screen becomes instantly duller in comparison. You glare up unimpressed at Tyler but his face crumples in relief so fast that you can barely hold the expression.

"Shit darlin'." He heaves a sigh, and any sympathy you'd felt for him instantly disappears when he has the gall to scold you next, "Do you know how damn long I've been looking for you?"

"Oh I'm sorry," You bite up at him, rage reigniting in your eyes, "Does my need for space inconvenience you?"

"No!" He nearly shrieks, but he reins himself in, "No, no, that's not- I shouldn't have said it like that. I was just worried."

"Well I'm not sure why," You turn back to your phone, but there's no concentration present as you mindlessly scroll, "I'd have expected you to be out enjoying your freedom seeing as you're cutting yourself loose."

"I'm not cutting myself loose." He vows, and it's soft instead of his typical drawl. He crouches, then makes the terrible, horrible decision to attempt to fit into the crawlspace with you.

"No- no, Tyler, you can't fit!" You squeal as he shoulders his way in, pressed flush to his body as he settles in a space half his size.

"It's fine." He grunts, but it's labored and very much not fine, "I just wanna be near you."

"I don't wanna be near you." You sneer, but you make no move to get up, "The whole reason I'm squeezed into this cabinet is because I was trying to hide from you."

"Did a damn good job, too." He admits, head slumped against the wall instead of your shoulder, "I was runnin' around for almost half an hour."

"Serves you right." You grumble, "Don't say mean shit if you want people to like you."

"I know." He reaches out and sets a hand on your knee, chaste and reassuring, "I'm sorry, darlin'. I just- lost control, or something. I don't know. I've been doin' this my whole life, and when you try to tell me how to do it, it makes me feel like you don't think I can handle it myself."

"Tyler, no one can. Some of the things that you're doing-" You stop yourself short, "I'm not saying you can't have fun. I'm not saying you can't chase- er, wrangle tornadoes. I'm just saying you don't have to keep trying to outdo yourself. There has to be a limit, otherwise you'll get killed."

He's silent after your speech, perhaps mulling it over, perhaps drafting his counterargument. In the end, he tips his head from the wall to your shoulder, and murmurs close to your ear.

"Yeah. You're right. I think... I think I just don't know when to stop sometimes."

"I agree with that," You try to keep too much accusation from seeping into your tone, "But that's why I said something. I don't want you to stop, I just don't want it to stop you."

"Yeah. Alright. I understand." And he sounds like he does. He laces his fingers with yours like he does, and he cranes his neck to peck his lips against your cheek like he does.

"You're not holding me back," He promises, "What I said earlier... that was dumb. This is a partnership, not some sort of prison sentence. I love you, darlin'."

"I love you too," You sigh, leaning sideways into his embrace, "You promise no more hanging out of windows?"

"I promise I won't anymore. Can't promise nothin' for Boone."

"Boone's crazy," You laugh, "You're all crazy. I just want you alive and crazy."

"Deal." Tyler grins, holding out a pinky and letting you lock it with yours, "Alive and crazy, darlin'."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sparkling juice

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, dubcon, drugging/tricking reader into drinking, established relationship, innocent/shy!reader (at least at first wink wink), kinda dark!rafe but really he just wants to bang reader reaaaaal bad

“this is so sweet, rafey.” you coo, your hand held firmly in his.

“anything for you baby.” rafe pulls you along the path, further out into the meadow until you get to a shaded area under a tall tree.

“here is perfect.” rafe says, setting the picnic basket down and draping the large blanket he brought with him.

“thank you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before sitting down.

“i brought all your favorites.” rafe says, taking a spot next to you and opening up the picnic basket.

you let out a little squeak in excitement and seeing all your favorite foods before your brows scrunch together as you point at a bottle. “what's that?”

“that's um… sparkling juice. that's all, baby.” of course, rafe knows that's not all it is, but you don't need to know that yet.

rafe pulls out some food for you to snack on, not hungry himself, happy to watch you nibble on crackers and bite into juicy strawberries.

“wanna try some juice with me baby?”

“mhm, of course rafey.” you watch his large hands as he fills two plastic cups, handing one to you. “drink slow.”

you nod in response before taking a sip, pulling away and sputtering. “ew!”

“oh, baby.” rafe pouts. “do you not like it? im so sorry i thought you would.”

“let me… let me try to drink it again. i think im just not used to the carbonation.” you take another sip, able to control your reaction better. “it's not bad!” rafe can tell you're lying, but he lets out a fake sigh of relief and smiles at you.

“so glad, baby. we can keep drinking while we talk, yeah? tell me about your day.”

rafe knows the easiest way to get you distracted is to have you talk, and so as you describe your day, which leads into your plans for next week, which leads into how much you love rafe, you keep taking sips as rafe refills just your cup.

“i… my head feels kinda fuzzy.” you frown, setting the drink down, realizing your fingers are also slightly numb.

“uh oh.” rafe pouts, drawing his thumb over your cheek. “maybe it's the heat. why don't you lay down?”

“yeah.” you nod, laying back onto the blanket, surprised how plush it is from the soft long grass underneath it. “im-” you let out a sudden giggle. “im like really in love with you, rafey.”

“im really in love with you too, kiddo.” rafe adjusts himself to lay next to you, propped up on his side to keep an eye on your reaction as the alcohol you didn't know you were drinking slowly takes effect. “that's why i planned out this whole picnic for you. and brought you special juice.”

“was there-” you hiccup, words slurring slightly. “anything special in the special juice?”

“hm.” rafe sits up, picking up the now half empty bottle. his eyes widen in fake shock as he reads the label. “oh no baby! i must have grabbed the wrong bottle! i meant to get us sparkling juice but i got us sparkling wine!”

“im… im drunk?” you put together what rafes words mean, mind working slowly.

“im so sorry.” rafe moves to hover over you, cupping your cheek. “will you forgive me?”

“course.” you nod quickly. “was an accident.”

“you're so sweet baby.” rafe brings his lips down on top of yours, kissing you wildly, mouths and tongues a passionate mess.

“should we go get some water to help… get rid of this feeling?” you ask rafe as he shifts to kissing your jaw.

“that's so smart, baby, but i can't drive us home drunk, and you don't have your license.” 

you knew how to drive well enough, but in your 20 years of life, never felt the need to actually get your license. your parents drove you around as a kid until you started dating rafe a year ago, and then he drove you around everywhere.

“oh, right.” you nod, letting out a small gasp as rafes kisses move lower, exploring your neck. this is where you usually stop him, pull his head back up to kiss your lips and remind him you want to wait. not necessarily until marriage, but a bit longer, until the time is right.

“we should do something to pass the time, baby. until the alcohol is out of our system.”

“doesn't eating help?” you try to remember what you heard your friends talk about, since you're not a drinker yourself. “we could share the rest of the crackers.”

“i was thinking… we could finally make love.” rafe suggests, pulling back to look in your eyes, watching the way your brain is fighting against the alcohol in your system.

“well, you did take me on this nice picnic…”

“mhm.”

“and we have been dating for over a year now.”

“yes.”

“so… i suppose we could.” you shove down any doubting voices in your head, letting the looseness of your inhibitions guide your actions as you lean forward to kiss rafe again.

“thank you baby.” rafe repeats his words between kisses, his weight shifting to his elbow as his other hand holds your waist, before moving up until it's cupping your breast.

“oh!” you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. rafe smiles, tugging at your dress until the material is below your bra, pushing your breasts up.

“what if someone sees?!” you hiss out. it's not likely someone would come by, but rafe doesn't want to ruin his chance to finally have you.

“okay.” he pulls your dress back up, settling for touching you over the material as he distracts you with soft kisses once again. “ill just push your dress up. that way if anyone comes by you can easily cover yourself up.”

“mhm.” you nod, eyes sliding shut, head fuzzy from the alcohol and now from the pleasure building in your system.

rafe reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants, leaving himself mostly covered as well. he begins to slowly stroke himself, already halfway hard just from the excitement.

“oh!” rafe hadn't even realize your eyes had opened up until your outburst.

“it's okay, baby.” rafe says. he's well aware this is your first time seeing his cock as he waits for you to form a reaction.

“i… i want to feel.” you reach down, cautious hand, still numb at the fingertips as you stroke over rafes length, eyes widening when you realize how hard it truly feels..

“can you… can you not look?” you ask shyly, hand still slowly moving as you speak. “at me.”

“baby, you know i find you beautiful. all of you… but if that's what you want, okay.” 

“just… look away for a minute.” you wait for rafes gaze to turn to the meadow, watching the flowers sway in the breeze as he hears you shuffling around on the blanket to take your underwear off.

“okay.” you say.

rafe looks back to you, smile growing as he realizes you're laid back down once again, dress pushed up to your thighs, just enough to hide your privates.

“ill be nice and slow, okay? and you tell me if anything hurts.” rafe moves over you, waiting for you to nod before reaching down with one hand to grab his cock. he keeps your skirt as far down as he can while tucking his dick between your thighs. he moves until he bumps skin, letting out a breath when he realizes you are wet.

he rubs his cock through your folds, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, brows pulling together and mouth dropping open.

you let out a moan when rafe hits what he assumes is your clit. he focuses the head of his cock on it for a moment before sinking lower to your entrance.

rafe manages to keep his word, pushing in slowly. he may have been buttering you up for an entire year just to get in your pants, but now he wants more than just once, you're well and truly his, and he plans on exploring with you until you're transformed from innocent girlfriend into personal slut.

“oh! oh, rafe!” your hands move to grip his shoulders. “that… that feels really good!”

“doesn't hurt at all?” rafe can tell he's stretching you somewhat, but clearly by your rapid shaking of your head no, you're not feeling any pain.

“gonna f-make love to you now then.” he swings his hips back before pushing forward, and soon your moans are filling the meadow, being carried away by the wind as he thrusts into you.

“so, so good, rafey.” you cry out, back arching off the picnic blanket. rafe smiles. your first time, and you're already behaving like this. he's going to turn you into a whore sooner than he thought.

“fu-fudge!” you shout out, making rafe chuckle softly as you use your curse word substitute just like you prefer doing.

“you feel so good round me, baby.” rafe says, bending down to kiss your neck. “love the way you're squeezing me.”

“harder.” you whine out. rafes eyebrows raise, but he doesn't question your demand, pushing his hips faster, slamming into you more. your dress pushed up from all the motion to reveal rafes cock burying itself inside your pussy.

he lets out a moan as you grip onto the blanket, not caring about him being able to see you as you feel a high building inside of you.

“i think im close.” you say.

“cum for me baby. ill cum with you.” rafe says, bringing a hand down to your clit, your moans doubling as he rubs over it with his thumb.

your high hits you suddenly. it takes a perfect thrust from rafe a long with his thumb flicking over your clit and your wall breaks with a scream, hips rising off the checkered fabric as you cum, pussy clenching around rafe as he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.

you both collapse in a heap, faces flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly.

rafe pulls out of you carefully before flopping onto his back.

“that was really good, rafey.” you cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“thank you for trusting me enough to do that with me, baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“of course.” your eyes are on rafes cock, still halfway hard despite just cumming. you reach down, ghosting your fingers along his length before swirling your fingertip over the head then against his slit as rafes hips twitch from the overstimulation.

“do you think we can do that again? and then maybe when we get home? after you're good to drive, of course.” you look up at rafe with what he thought were big, innocent eyes, but he's quickly realizing you've got a different side just below the surface.

-- six months later --

“ugh, rafe!” you groan as he presses buttons on the controller, eyes firmly on the screen. 

“promise baby, will be done in five minutes.” he says, barely glancing to you.

you're tired of being ignored as you pull off the only clothing you are wearing, a big t-shirt of rafes to cover yourself. rafe glances over, realizing you're now completely nude as his fingers freeze.

“i want to fuck. if you're not gonna help me, im gonna go help myself.” you shrug.

rafe tosses the controller onto the floor, a proud smile on his face. you've become just who he's always wanted you to be. “of course im gonna help you baby, come get on this dick.”

[luveline]

maybe a bombshell!reader where she is OBSESSED with touching and making out with glasses!reid and he is so confused why she is always all over him. i think bc he never went thru that horny teenage phase, or even the "honeymoon" phase of a relationship, he doesnt quite understand why she is acting that way (not that he's complaining)

tysm for requesting ♡ fem, 1k

There's something soft under Spencer's cheek. His lashes brush against it like the wing of a trapped butterfly as he wakes, his fatigue a weight on his tongue. He wonders where he is for a worrying moment, hand stretched out to feel the couch cushions beneath him. 

The sounds of you reach him from down the hall. The crinkling of your coat set up on a hook near the door, the squeak of your shoes on hardwood, and the familiar lilt of your voice as you sigh, speaking to yourself in quiet tones, "Unlucky." 

He rubs his eyes and sits up. "What's unlucky?" he asks, his throat burning. He must've been sleeping open-mouthed, which is perfect. Attractive, he thinks scathingly. He's less annoyed and more disgusted when he feels the dried drool in the corner of his mouth. 

You don't answer him. Spencer forces his tired eyes to work, sitting up on knees on the couch to try and get a look at you. He can't see into the kitchen from here, to his dismay, but he can hear the contents of your fridge door clinking together. 

You turn the corner with a bottle of water in your hands. When you see him waiting for you your smile bumps up a notch, pretty to cataclysmic, world-ending and life-ruining, all manner of awful as you hurry down the hall in your socks to kiss him. 

Why you'd want to is anyone's guess. He can imagine how he looks, curls matted at the back and frizzy at the sides. Spencer can't help cringing as your fingers weave into the hair at the nape of his neck, your lips a soft pressure against his for a few more blissful seconds. 

You pull back concisely. "You fell asleep?" Your hand comes up, your thumb rubbing gently at his nose bridge. With your other hand, you press the bottle of water to his shoulder. "With your glasses on?" 

He nods in defeat. If he didn't look like a mess, if he hadn't face planted into your fancy couch in his rumpled jeans, even if he were at his best, he's still hopeless, because they messed up his contacts again. You're vocally fond of them even if he hates them. 

"I remember the first time I saw you without them," you say, your kind thumb moving to rub a fond quarter circle into his cheek. "You were," —you steal a kiss, your nose pressed to his, pulling back and pushing in between words— "chasing the tail of that movie star." Kiss, kiss. He loses his grip on the water in favour of your arm. "You looked," —your kisses turn melty warm and impossibly softer— "so, so shy." 

You pull away to card his hair back. Not particularly gentle but never cruel, you rake his curls out of his face swiftly. "How come you never get shy with me?" 

"Don't pretend I never did," he says. It's embarrassing but it happened. 

"Fine, you did." You tuck his hair behind his ears. "Not as often as everyone thought you would." 

"You were kidding. Or, I confidently thought you were kidding. I could write it off as a joke, pity–" 

His timidity with you rose and fell and rose again. These days it simmers, waiting for you to surprise him or tease him or do as you're doing now, rounding the couch to push at him until he sits. You ease into his lap, mostly off of him, a knee to his right and a knee between his legs as your arms circle his back. He's quick to hug you rather than have you slip backward out of his arms. 

"I never pitied you," you say, kissing him again, no signs of stopping. "Don't say that. It's not true. I saw you were a catch before anyone else did, that's all." 

Spencer can't argue with you. He's honestly not interested, distracted by your weight and the heat of your lips as they part against his. To go back and tell the Spencer from a year ago that his bombshell of a coworker, the one who flirts with a sticky charmed smile, who sits on the lip of his desk making eyes at him, and who never takes the easy blows, wasn't joking? It would stunt his brain. It might send him into a cardiac episode. 

To tell him that she's in his lap more often than not? 

Spencer's lucky to be alive. He laughs as he thinks it, his stomach stirring while you scratch carefully at his scalp.

"What?" you ask, voice a stretched murmur, close enough to husky to wind him. "Tickles?" 

"No," he says, "nothing, it's nice." 

He's greedy and a total amateur, pulling your face back down to his in hopes of sparking another heavy kiss. You're enticed for a bit, but Spencer knows his laugh is bothering you, so he steals a last rough kiss before dropping his forehead into your cheek. 

You pet his neck softly. "What, Spence?" 

"It's just unreal, sometimes. It's weird." He can't hide, his glasses jabbing into his eye.

When he lifts his head, you breathe out a laugh and take the glasses from his nose. You fold them, set them carefully on the couch beside you, and meet his gaze fondly. Your lashes kiss in the corners with your smile, pretty lips a balmed pout. He can feel the waxy transfer your kisses have left on his own lips and the skin around them. You're enthusiastic. 

"What's weird?" you ask. 

"How much you like me." 

"Have you ever heard of the honeymoon phase?" 

"The romance feeling very intense at the start of a relationship until we're used to one another," he answers. 

"Right. Well, I'm used to you. I intend on honeymooning with you until you die. And you're in your prime, sweetheart, so…" You lean in with your head tilted heavily to the side, pausing with your lips only just touching his. "You'll have to get used to it," you whisper, waiting. 

Spencer kisses upward slowly. You sigh into his mouth, double when he paws at the small of your back and squeezes you close to his chest, thankful you took off his glasses. 

[buckyalpine]

Imagine shy beefy Bucky being the little spoon. He feels like he should be the one cuddling you since he’s so much bigger but he loves when you hold him instead.

However.

There’s this one thing you do that always makes him blush and flustered and he just doesn’t understand it.

You love rubbing his tummy.

You hold him from behind, peeking over his shoulder because you love how peaceful he looks when he sleeps. You know he's not actually asleep because his abs are still tensed, worried over how you'd feel with the beefiness that covers his muscular body.

He’s self conscious when your hand slips under his shirt, rubbing his soft but firm tummy up and down; his skin is so warm and you love how plush he is. He’s still getting used to the fact that he isn’t as trim as before. Not that he’s unfit. Quite the opposite. He’s a thick hunk of muscle mass. You can feel the iron like hardness that runs under his skin whenever you're pressed against him. He's so large and perfect to snuggle up with; your grabby little hands love finding their way to his stomach.

"Doll-" He whispers with pink dusted cheeks, holding your wrist away when you sneak over his waist, stroking your skin, "Doll, I- I'm not-" He struggles to get the words out, embarrassed he's not lean like Steve, "Baby, I-

“Shhh, I love you like this” you coo, kissing his shoulder. He shrugs, still not believing you. You tell him how much you adore him every time but he can't help but think back to the time where he was pure muscle without any pudge.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to pretend, I wish I was-"

You shake your head, pressing your lips to his to stop his spiral.

"But you're my big boy" You pout, shuffling over till your straddling him, forcing him to lay back. You huff, pulling his shirt up exposing him, shimmying your hips down so you can curl up on top of his bare torso like a little kitten. You let out a content sigh, pressing your face into his stomach, peppering kisses all over before peering up at him.

"I love your body so much baby" You say sincerely, kissing just below his belly button again for emphasis. "You're so warm and soft and strong, my perfect bear"

Bucky can't help but melt over the way you melt into him, your smaller form using him as a pillow to your hearts content. If you liked him like this, always kneading away at him or trying to burrow yourself into him, who was he to say no?

Cause imagine how fucking hot he'd be when he finally embraces how good he looks with a lil beef. Imagine he stops trying to cover up with large hoodies and henley's. He works out shirtless more.

You're not the only one who drools over him anymore.

All the other trainees can't help but swoon whenever they see him at the punching back or pumping with weights. You have to claw them off him from trying to climb up his legs, desperate to have Sargent Barnes carry them with one arm with ease.

Even the other Avengers can't help but cat call at him because he looks fine af.

Sometime he lets his hair out or ties it half up along with his scruffy cheeks and Tony's taken to calling him a man slut for walking around like that.

"Tony, I don't think thats what slut mean-

"I know what it means. You're telling me he's flaunting all that around and he doesn't know he's hot while doing it? He doesn't know he's getting all this attention?"

Bucky snickers to himself while you coo over your handsome boyfriend, wrapped around him like a koala while the others watch in amusement, your hands skimming all over his body and scratching his beard.

"See? Told you you're perfect like this, big boy"

Imagine he knows you find comfort in him and he no longer feels conscious over it. Whenever your sad and in need of cuddles, he holds you nice and close, usually sans clothing, all skin to skin contact.

He knows you're a little pervert and he'll give into your puppy like eyes, sometimes letting his towel drop after a shower while you grin, shamelessly watching him.

"You're staring again, you little creep" Bucky snorted while applying lotion, dropping his hands when he felt yours paw at his back to take over.

"Just a creep for you, handsome" You quip before continuing your journey exploring his body, moving your hand to his front, deciding to wrap around his co-

Anyway, I love this beefieee babieeee

[roosterforme]

Whole Lotta Love | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley were just friends, and perhaps that was why you trusted him so much. It wasn't his fault that you were secretly harboring a crush a mile wide. When your noisy neighbor becomes too much and you decide you need to move, Bradley helps you brainstorm a solution. But when you set your plans into action, you're surprised to find that he seems almost jealous.

Warnings: Adult language, angst, fluff, drinking, mentions of masturbation

Length: 8600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @mak-32

"I need to move."

Bradley looked up at your annoyed expression as you dropped your lunch tray a little violently onto the cafeteria table across from him with a clatter. The top piece of bread slid off your sandwich as you sat down with a pout. 

"Like to a new apartment?" he asked, reaching over to straighten out your silverware and napkin. "Didn't we just help you move a few months ago, Sparrow?"

For some reason that set you off as your clenched fist bumped the edge of the tray, messing everything up again. "Yes, to a new apartment, Rooster! And yes, I just moved six months ago, but I can't take another day of this shit."

"What's wrong?" Jake asked where he was inhaling his food right next to you like he had a vendetta against it.

You sighed, and the sound was so soft and sweet compared to your frustrated expression, Bradley almost laughed. "The guy who lives above me is an aspiring wedding DJ. Do you have any idea what that means for my sleep schedule?"

"Oh shit," Javy groaned from your other side. "Are you getting Cupid Shuffle all night long?"

"Coyote," you whined, "he makes his own remixes! At four in the morning! When I asked him to stop, he said he was perfecting his artform, but that he'd turn the volume down a smidge. Meanwhile, I moved into my current apartment, because my old neighbors were hosting woodworking retreats in their living room!"

Now Bradley really was laughing. "You need a break? You can come sleep over at my place tonight."

You were finally smiling now as you said, "Thanks Rooster, but I've seen the wrong side of your couch before. I had a long, long night in your living room after the holiday party."

"So don't get drunk first this time," he replied easily, remembering that night vividly. You let him carry you into his house from his Bronco while you whispered the lyrics to Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin really slowly to him. It was funny and somehow a little hot at the same time. He liked it a little too much. "Or you can just sleep in my bed."

Your eyes went a little wide. "With you?"

"Of course not," he replied quickly, hoping he wasn't blushing. "We're just friends. I could take the couch for one night so you can have a break. If you want."

You and he really were just friends. You were friends with all the guys. They all loved you and your humor, and you were a hell of a good WSO. Bradley didn't even fly with a backseater, but he always liked getting paired with you and Omaha. You had an ease about you, and it even translated to the way you took a massive bite out of your sandwich after you said, "Maybe I'll just sneak in and break DJ Insomnia's turntables."

Then you smiled at Bradley while you chewed your food, and Javy and Jake started to make up a song about DJ Insomnia. You laughed when they tried to rhyme 'slumber' with 'nightmare', but you were still looking at Bradley as if he was in on some inside joke with you. Your eyes twinkled when he nudged your leg with his boot underneath the table.

"Hey, I'll be more than happy to help you move again, Sparrow, but I think you ought to at least consider having me over around three in the morning with my keyboard. I'll bring these two idiots with me as well, and we can all sing at the top of our lungs until your neighbor moves out."

You tipped your head back and laughed. "Oh, Rooster. You're the sweetest, but he'd probably actually enjoy that."

Now Bradley was definitely blushing as he looked down at his lunch, and he wasn't really sure why.

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

You gathered your things together for the night as soon as you heard your neighbor playing the Electric Slide. If he was already starting at seven o'clock, you needed to get out now. You shoved clean underwear and some random clothing into your backpack before you stopped in the bathroom and grabbed the essentials. Bradley's couch had never sounded better to you in your life, but if he felt like offering up his bed, then even better. Hell, you'd curl up in there with him at this point. What difference did it make? It wasn't like anything physical was ever going to happen.

He was one of the boys, and you loved them all. It wasn't Bradley's fault that his sun kissed skin and wavy hair were kind of your thing. If they were attached to another man, you'd probably have made a move, but he was your friend. Sure, you'd thought about it before, when you were alone in bed and it was very, very late. He was attractive and hilarious, and you were only human. But some things were sacred.

"Yeah, like peace and quiet," you growled as you stomped down your hallway. You grabbed your keys and headed out, zipping along to Bradley's house in record time. You were obsessed with his place which was complete with flower boxes underneath the front windows and a pink front door that he never seemed to get around to repainting even though he mentioned it all the time.

You hauled yourself up to his porch with your half zipped backpack and bad attitude and pounded on his door. You had a spare key somewhere in the bottom of your purse, but you didn't feel like digging for it. When he didn't answer, you pounded again, a little harder this time. 

"Yeah?" he asked, his tone gruff as the door flew open. "Sparrow," he muttered, his voice much softer with your call sign attached to it. "Hey."

But you didn't register too much besides the fact that he was standing there in nothing but a pair of snug boxer briefs with damp hair and skin that smelled delicious just inches away from you. "Hi," you said, sounding as mesmerized as you felt. Golden tan. Sparse chest hair. Perfectly groomed mustache. You wanted to lick him. Where on earth did that urge come from? You never thought about dragging your tongue along his chest and neck and all the way up to his lips. Except that you had... very, very late at night.

Fuck.

It wouldn't be worth messing things up. You forced your gaze up to his brown eyes. "I'm here for our sleepover," you said with as much normalcy as you could muster, but the response you got was Bradley's cheeks turning pink as he leaned away from the doorway so you could step inside. Then you came to a stop and looked at him again. He smelled really good. Like maybe he was wearing cologne. "Oh. Were you heading out? Do you have a date?"

His cheeks grew redder. "Um, no. Not at all. Of course not."

His answer sent a little wave of relief through your body. "Good." You winced at your response as you continued to his couch and set your bag down. "I mean, do you want to order a pizza or something?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Just let me get dressed. I'll be right back out."

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

You actually came over. With your backpack full of your stuff. Bradley wasn't expecting you to take him up on his offer, and now he was doubly flustered; he actually did plan a last minute date, and he just jerked off in the shower while thinking about you.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He didn't start off thinking about you. It just kind of happened. At first, he was thinking about a faceless girl sitting on his lap with her hand in his underwear, and then suddenly she did have a face. Your face. And then she had your voice. And then he pictured the two of you on his actual couch. And it was definitely you giving him a handjob in his shower fantasy, and he came all over the tile wall like it was your face. He was lucky you didn't let yourself in with your spare key in time to hear him moaning your name.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He looked wild. Slightly deranged. His pupils were huge, and his cheeks were hot pink. How the hell was he supposed to eat pizza with you while he was thinking about you on his lap?

But the fact that he wanted nothing more than to eat pizza and drink beers with you solidified the fact that he needed to cancel his date with Erin. He was so stupid for doing this. She was a viable option for someone to date. You were not. But he was apparently going to torture himself anyway as he texted her Hey, sorry this is last minute, but I need to reschedule.

He didn't wait for a response as he made his way back to his living room where you had already cracked open a can of beer from the refrigerator and made yourself at home on the couch. You were wearing what you always wore when you didn't have on a flight suit, just yoga pants and a baggy tee shirt. It shouldn't have been cute, but it was. 

You smiled up at him as you nudged the unopened can of beer on the coffee table with your blue painted toenail. "I got you one."

He poked your foot with his finger and picked up the beer as he said, "Yeah, it's the least you could do since you helped yourself to my fridge." 

When he dropped down onto the couch next to you, his weight on the cushions had you colliding into him. "Sorry," you murmured, your hand coming to rest on his abs as you pushed yourself back into place like it was nothing. Meanwhile, he broke out in a nervous sweat. "What do you want to watch?"

"Doesn't matter," he replied, handing you the remote. Then he grinned and said, "Or we could skip the TV, and I could get my keyboard out and play Cupid Shuffle for you. Maybe try my hand at a remix." You tipped your head back and pretended to cry before you started laughing. "What's the matter? I'm sure I'll sound better than your neighbor. Give it a chance, Sparrow," he teased.

You turned to face him on the couch, still laughing with your beer can resting against his bicep. "First of all, no. Please. No. Absolutely not. Second, has anyone ever told you how adorable it is that you have a keyboard that you actually play?"

"I tell myself that all the time," he replied, trying hard not to smile as you laughed. "I say, 'Bradley, you're adorable. I think it's so cool that you want to relive your piano lessons from middle school. Maybe you should get braces again, too.'"

You were cackling now as you gasped, "Stop it."

He sipped his beer and shook his head. "Of course nobody has ever said my keyboard is adorable. It's the nerdiest thing a guy in his thirties could possibly own, and only like five people in total know about it."

With tears in your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so happy I'm one of those five people."

"Yeah, well, keep it to yourself," he muttered with a smile as he took the remote back and turned on the Padres game. You were still giggling softly as you settled in next to him again. "You want pizza?" he asked. 

"I've never said no to pizza," you replied easily, your thigh rubbing gently against his.

"My treat."

"You always say it's your treat. I'll get it this time."

"Nah, you've got to save up your money so you can move out of your apartment, remember?" he asked as he placed the order on his phone.

"How could I forget?" you moaned. "Your house is so nice, I wish I could evict you and move in here."

He set his phone aside and kicked his feet up onto his coffee table. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "That would be a pretty rude thing to do to the guy who always buys your pizza."

Your side eye was impeccable as you said, "It's not like you'd be destitute. I'd let you live with DJ Insomnia. Now I just need a way to make money fast."

Bradley shook his head as the baseball game went to a commercial. "There's no such thing, Sparrow. Nothing legal anyway, and Uncle Sam pays your salary."

You were tapping your beer can with your finger and biting your lip gently, and Bradley's mind drifted back to his shower fantasy. You hummed softly, and he could practically feel the weight of your body settling onto his lap. That's what he wanted. You and he could finish this discussion with you straddling his thighs and his tongue in your mouth. 

He should have gone out with Erin. He should have just admitted that he had a date and told you that you could hang out here while he was gone, because now he was getting his hopes up as your leg bumped his again. He knew he was blushing when he looked at you, so he turned back to the TV just in time for the beginning of a Hooters commercial.

"Wow," you mused with a little snicker as you gestured toward the parade of tits with your beer can. "That really got your attention."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "No, it didn't."

"Seriously? That's a lot of boobs, Rooster. You think we should contact the ad agency and tell them they should feature a few more?"

He turned and looked at you, and you started cracking up again. "I think it was actually just the right amount of boobs," he said, trying really hard not to look at your chest.

You forced your face into a neutral expression. "Do you like to go to Hooters?"

Bradley groaned and tried to stand up but you reached for his arm and tugged him closer to you instead. "Why do you think it's fun to pick on me?" 

"I'm not really sure, but it's great," you replied. "Didn't all the guys go to Hooters for Jake's birthday?"

"Yeah," he replied with a laugh. "Jake got completely fucking wasted and proposed to our waitress. Then he tried to write his number on a napkin for her, but it looked like hieroglyphics. He even tried to follow her into the kitchen at one point, and Javy had to go get him. At least he left her a two hundred dollar tip for being so annoying."

You gaped at him and set your empty beer can on the coffee table. "Two hundred bucks? Oh my god, do you realize how fast I could buy my own place with guys like Jake around if I worked at Hooters?"

Bradley sat up a little straighter and watched as your eyes lit up while you watched the end of the commercial before the Padres game came on again. "You wouldn't want guys... fussing over you like that, would you?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "I can handle myself."

"That's not what I meant. I just-" He cut himself off. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to tell you he was already jealous just thinking about it? He definitely couldn't admit that. So instead he said, "Your boobs are too good for Hooters. You should keep them in your flight suit."

Now you were looking down at your body and running your hands up your belly to your chest, and Bradley was entranced as he watched you squeeze yourself through your tee shirt like it didn't even matter if he was there or not. You must have trusted him implicitly as you looked at him with sad eyes and said, "You're probably right. Guys know best about this kind of thing, and flight suits are a catch-all for making everyone's body look identical. Maybe it's better to just keep blending in."

He felt like a jerk, because that's not what he meant at all. He wanted to tell you that you were beautiful and that you'd probably make enough money in two weeks to buy the house of your dreams in those orange booty shorts and the tiny tops, but he couldn't. He wanted to kiss that little pout from your lips, but he wouldn't. Instead he said, "Let's keep brainstorming?"

"Yeah, thanks," you whispered, letting your lips brush against his cheek, and Bradley jumped about a mile into the air when there was a knock at the front door.

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

You and Bradley had given up on the Padres game. Now you were turned so you were facing each other with pizza and paper plates and more cans of beer. "Okay, you hear how quiet your house is? You hear how nobody is annoying the shit out of you right now? No turntables or amplifiers anywhere?"

"Yeah," he said with a laugh. His cheeks had been perpetually pink all night, and it was really distracting. You had to keep reminding yourself that he thought you'd look better in your shapeless flight suit than in a Hooters uniform, and it kind of broke your heart every single time. But that's what you needed.

You forced a smile as you said, "I want this kind of peace in my life. So give me your best brainstorming ideas for how I can make some more money. Go."

"What about cage fighting?" he asked before he took an enormous bite of pizza. 

"Cage fighting?" you balked. "Maybe you don't think much of my face, but I happen to like it the way it is!"

His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open. "I do like your face, Sparrow. I was just joking." 

He still looked concerned as you waved him off and asked, "What if I started bartending again? Like I did in college?"

Bradley shrugged. "You'll get just as many guys creeping on you at a bar."

You nibbled on your pizza crust and thought about your options. "What if it's the right kind of bar though? One with bouncers and security guards and everything, and oh my god! I've got it!"

"What?" 

You watched him fold another slice of pizza in half and devour it as you said, "The Beauty Bar."

He froze with his mouth full and started shaking his head. "No," he said as soon as he swallowed. "That's like Hooters, but the girls dance. On the bar." 

"Exactly," you told him, letting your hand rest on his knee. "Bigger tips and buffer security guards. Just think about it, Rooster. I could play one of the characters and have my own unique outfit. It's mostly just bartending, but the breaks for dancing would be so fun."

He looked a little constipated, and you almost laughed when he asked, "What kind of outfit?"

You tried to remember the girls from the only time you'd been there. "I think there was a cowgirl and a schoolgirl? Or like a dirty librarian?"

Bradley leaned a little closer to you and said, "Maybe you should reconsider the cage fighting. I could get you like a hockey mask to wear?" He ran his fingertip gently down the side of your face. "You know, to keep you safe?"

"I wouldn't last one round," you told him with a grin. "Besides, The Beauty Bar is mostly filled with bachelorette parties and girls having a fun night out. I think I'll call them or stop by tomorrow and see what they say."

Bradley dropped his hand from your face and muttered, "I'll keep brainstorming. You feel like watching a movie?"

"Sure," you told him as you stretched. "You pick since you paid for the pizza."

A few seconds later, your favorite movie was queued up on the TV, and you tried to get him to look at you, but he was actively avoiding doing so as he tried not to smile. You were halfway on his lap with your hands on his cheeks when he finally met your eyes. "Thanks, Bradley. For the pizza and for the movie and the sleepover and everything."

"You're welcome," he whispered softly. You thought about how good it would feel to kiss him, but you ended up laying on a pillow that was propped against his thigh instead. Less than halfway into the movie, you were sound asleep. 

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

Bradley didn't want to move. You were sound asleep with your cheek pressed to his thigh, and a tiny little spot of drool darkened the fabric of his jeans next to your lips. You had pushed the pillow to the floor, and you had reached for his hand while you dozed.

He'd had a full blown crush on you for a while now. It was useless to try to deny it. But you had him in the friend zone along with Javy and Jake and all the rest of the guys, and he was sure that if he tried to level up, you'd smash him right back down where he belonged.

You were so cute, finally getting the sleep you deserved. Clearly you trusted him, which made him feel important, but he wanted to be important to you in every way. 

When he tried to slide off the couch, you snuggled against him harder. When he tried to wake you up, you moaned and snoozed on. He got himself awkwardly into position to pick you up, and he hoisted you into his arms. Your hand rested on his chest, and your lips met his neck as you mumbled, "I'm sleepy."

"I know you are, Honey." The pet name just slipped out, but you didn't complain as he stood there in his living room trying to stave off an erection as you snuggled against him. "I'm taking you to my bed. You'll be more comfortable."

"M'kay." 

Then he was treated to your half asleep rendition of Whole Lotta Love where most of the lyrics were wrong and it was pretty much completely off key. But you were singing it right next to his ear, and once again, he liked it more than he should. When he set you down on his bed, you immediately burrowed under the blankets like you slept in his room all the time, and he watched you curl up on your side. 

Your eyes were closed as you whispered, "Aren't you getting in?"

He wanted to. He knew the feel of your body well enough to know that he'd love snuggling with you all night. But this friendship meant something to him. "Nah, I'll be out on the couch if you need me."

You didn't respond verbally, but you did nod, and Bradley kissed your temple. Then he grabbed a blanket from his closet and left you alone. His thoughts were a complete mess as he stepped out of his jeans and tossed them on the coffee table. He stretched out on his couch as much as he could, but then he thought about you wearing a Hooters uniform.

"Don't do it," he warned himself, but it was too fucking late. The little orange shorts and the tiny white shirts had been nice on the other girls, sure. But on you'd, they would be lethal for him. 

The idea of you dressed as a cowgirl doing a little dance routine on a sticky bartop wasn't much better. Guys would be throwing tip money at you and begging you to make their drinks. They would all want to chat you up and try to touch you. Bradley would go through the roof if one of them did. But if this is what you wanted to do and it was going to help you reach your goal, then he was going to have to be supportive, even if it killed him. 

After barely sleeping most of the night, Bradley was finally dozing when you walked out into the living room the next morning. His blanket ended up on the floor at some point, but you came right over to him where he was overflowing from the couch in just his undershirt and boxer briefs. 

"You could have slept in your bed, too," you whispered, brushing your fingers through his hair. "You're too big for the couch."

He noted that you were wearing your backpack as he melted into your touch. "Are you leaving? I thought we could grab breakfast."

Now you were smiling. "I'm gonna run. I'm planning to stop at The Beauty Bar later and see if they're hiring any new bartenders. Thanks for everything."

With that, you kissed his forehead, and Bradley's eyes closed as soon as you went prancing out his front door into the sunlight. "I'll keep brainstorming," he groaned.

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

Your interview at the bar consisted of making three drinks and picking out a 'uniform' to wear. Some of the clothing was so tiny, it made the Hooters girls look modest by comparison. But they assured you that you'd love working there, so you accepted the position and took your new clothing home. 

The first time you put on the black leather skirt that zipped all the way up the front along with the cropped shirt, you took it back off immediately. Could you mix cocktails in the outfit? Sure. Could you dance on the top of the bar for three minutes straight three times per night? Maybe not. But then you remembered that they told you some girls made up to five hundred bucks per shift. And then DJ Insomnia started on a remix of the Macarena right above you. 

So you put the outfit back on again and decided that yes, you could do this. And maybe it would help to get a guy's perspective on the way you looked and your dance moves. You wanted to ask Bradley, but you didn't think you could handle the way he'd laugh about this. But there was something about the way he'd been concerned about you when you slept over at his place on Friday night. You almost felt protected. Cared for. God, you were already jealous of the woman he would eventually fall for, because she would be on the receiving end of all of his warm attention. And she'd get to live in that house with him. And he'd actually sleep in his bed with her, unlike the couch when you were there. 

You rolled your eyes in the mirror and added some makeup to your face. This was so unlike you, falling for one of your friends. But you were tired of trying to fight it. And you still trusted his opinions. So you called him.

"Sparrow," he crooned when he answered your call.

"Rooster," you replied in your most matter of fact tone. "I was wondering if you could stop by for a few minutes and help me with something?"

"Right now?" he asked immediately.

You bit your lip before swiping some lipstick on while you said, "Whenever you have a chance."

"I'll be there soon."

He didn't let you down. He never did. Twenty minutes later, there were three taps on your apartment door, and then he was letting himself inside with the spare key you gave him months ago.

"Sparrow, it's me," he called out over the remix of Footloose. "Jesus. You weren't kidding. Your neighbor plays music like this all the time?"

"Yes," you shouted from your bedroom. "Constantly."

"I'm going to go up and have a little chat with him."

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup as you said, "Don't bother. I've tried so many times. All he's done is lower the volume the slightest bit."

Bradley's sarcastic laugh from your living room made you smile. "I'm sure I can get him to do whatever I say."

That was undoubtedly the truth. You also didn't want him to get arrested. When you ran out to see him, you had forgotten what you were wearing as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him.

Bradley's eyes were wide, and as soon as his hands settled on your bare waist, he pulled them right off again. "Holy shit. What the fuck is this?"

"Oh," you gasped, taking a nervous step away from him. "It's kind of my uniform. For my new bartending gig?" His cheeks were pink, his lips were parted, and he was gaping at you as he dragged his gaze up and down your body. "Is it bad?"

"Holy shit," he repeated. And then he said it one more time before he met your eyes. "Do you think it's bad?"

You winced and groaned. "I wasn't sure. But you're a guy. If you think it's awful, then I certainly don't want to wear it to my second job." He let out a strangled sound, and you started to turn back to your bedroom. "I'll stick to my flight suits."

You felt his fingers lace with yours before you heard his strained voice. "It's not bad, Sparrow. It's really fucking hot." You turned and looked at him, annoyed that you were feeling so vulnerable. He swallowed hard before he added, "You always look good."

He tugged you a little closer to him, and a smile found your lips. "I think I get it. It's hard to be objective when you're friends with someone. You'd probably like the outfit better on someone else."

Somehow his eyes went wider. "I really don't think that's it at all, actually," he whispered. Then DJ Insomnia started playing a remix that actually sounded good for once, and you tugged Bradley toward your couch with your linked fingers. 

"Here, watch me dance real quick, and then we can just hang out."

"Okay," he grunted, taking a seat.

"Just pretend I'm someone else," you told him as you ran one hand down your side until your palm settled on your hip. You started to turn in a slow circle as you moved your hips to the music that made its way to your living room. 

"I don't really want to do that."

You looked back at Bradley over your shoulder and caught him staring at your butt. "You don't?"

He shook his head slowly as you turned to face him, still dancing. "Hell no," he whispered, watching your face now. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, and his dark gaze looked almost greedy, but he sat there and watched you dance, barely moving a muscle until you stopped along with the music.

"Well? What do you think?" you asked, holding your hands out to your sides.

He cleared his throat. "I think it's a good thing you don't have a boyfriend, because he'd already be jealous as fuck."

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

You looked exhausted every single day now. Bradley started to bring you extra coffee from his own kitchen to try to combat your near constant yawning and fatigue each morning. You weren't just battling through sleepless nights at your apartment with DJ Insomnia, you were also working all day as a WSO and frequently working late into the night at the bar. 

"I'm a little worried about you," he murmured one morning as you sipped the coffee he made. "You're working too hard, Sparrow." He didn't want to put voice to the way he felt about your bartending shifts. He made it a point not to stop by and see you there even though you'd asked him to. But he desperately wished you would quit. Every time he thought about you in your little costume with your red, pouty lips, he got more jealous inside. He could just imagine dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of eyes on you, and he didn't like the way he wanted to be the only one treated to that sight.

"I'm fine," you replied softly. "I've already made thousands in tip money, and it's only been two weeks." You tried to smile up at him, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. "I mean, it's not the best scenario, because sometimes the patrons get a little rowdy. But it's not the worst thing. I'll just keep it up for a few months or until I get deployed."

Bradley grunted. "Explain to me exactly how rowdy they get."

Now you were sipping your coffee and staring at the patches on his flight suit instead of looking at his face. "Well, nobody is supposed to touch us. But sometimes guys do try it. Especially when we're dancing. The bouncers are great and all, but they can only get over there so quickly."

Bradley leaned down until you were looking him in the eye. He knew he was no better than some random asshole at the bar. He was probably worse since he thought about you dancing for him every time he took a shower. But he couldn't stand how apprehensive you looked when you talked about that place. You never looked like that when you were alone with him. 

"I think you should quit," he told you blandly. 

"It's not that bad," you replied. "Maybe I'm not doing a good job of explaining it. Come visit one night, and I'll buy you a drink."

"Sparrow, literally the last thing I want to do is witness every drunk asshole at the bar trying to look up your skirt."

You scoffed. "I wear little booty shorts underneath it!"

He closed his eyes and grunted, "I could have lived without that visual." It would just add to his shower time fodder.

"Oh! You should come on Friday night," you said, patting him on the chest. "I'll invite all the guys! There are drink specials. Hey, Javy!"

You wandered away, and soon Bradley's fate was sealed. Javy, Jake, Mickey, Reuben and Bob were all planning on going to The Beauty Bar for happy hour, and he was expected to be there, too. It wasn't like it was your fault he was falling for you, so he was just going to have to go and be supportive. He'd make sure all the guys left you massive tips, too. 

You were still exhausted on Friday morning, and Bradley didn't like the way you were yawning as you loaded into your jet. You were quieter now at work than you usually were, and he was tempted to tell you to start sleeping at his place to try to cut out some of your stress. Having you close by sounded good to him as well.

Maybe he'd hang out at your bar all night and take you home with him. He could carry you to his bed before retiring to the couch and pretending he was also in his bed. Maybe you would even serenade him with the song. You'd get a good night's sleep and then this never ending friendship loop would start all over again.

If he could think of a way to break the loop and turn it into a straight line that led to a relationship with you, he'd take it. That was probably the type of brainstorming he should be working on at this point since you were already working at the bar now. He was still trying to think of a way to tell you how he really felt without destroying the friendship as he drove his Bronco across the city to the extremely popular Beauty Bar. 

"You're kidding," he muttered. There was a line to get inside, and he told you he'd be here by eight o'clock when the dancing started. 

"Holy shit," Jake said as he and Javy headed up the sidewalk and got in line with him. "I guess there's no shortage of guys who want to look at Sparrow."

Javy nodded in agreement. "I mean, I don't really want to look at Sparrow, but I'll gladly take all the other girls."

That was literally the exact opposite of Bradley's thinking. He couldn't give a shit who else was working, his eyes would find you and stay there all night. Whether you were serving drinks, chatting with patrons or dancing, he'd be focused on nothing but you.

The guys all got their driver's licenses out, and the bouncer muttered, "Don't want any trouble from the three of you," as he checked them. 

Shit, what the hell kind of place was this if you got warned at the door on your way in? But when he walked inside and saw how crowded it was along with the two random girls doing a line dance along the bar, he could kind of understand. It was mostly packed with guys, and Reuben, Mickey and Bob were waving them over. Bradley moved slowly through the crowd, and then he found you in your cute little outfit handing someone a beer, and his heart stopped. 

Your smile looked like it was pasted on, but once you saw Bradley, your whole face lit up. You waved to him as you bounced up and down behind the bar, clearly excited that he was here. He started throwing his elbows and shoulders around to get to you, passing all of the other guys in the process. 

"Rooster!" you called out over the music when he got closer. The two girls danced across the bar between you and him, but his focus didn't waver at all as he matched your smile. "Do you want a drink?"

He shrugged and said, "I kind of just wanted to see you."

"Oh," you replied, looking pleased enough that Bradley decided to push the boundary just a little bit. 

"I don't really like it here, actually. If at any time you feel like quitting your job, I'll take you right to my place and let you sleep in peace and quiet again."

You poured a beer and handed it to him. "You don't like the girls?" you asked, glancing at the boots as they went by again. 

"Not those ones."

You looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Which ones then?"

His fingers flexed on his pint of beer as someone tried to jostle him out of the way to get closer, but he didn't look away from you as he said, "Come on, Sparrow." His voice was a little rough, and now you looked confused. He would do it. He'd ruin everything just so you knew. But he didn't want you to feel bad for him. 

Then someone called your first name, and you and he both turned to see an older woman holding up both hands. "I'm on in ten," you told him, reaching out to touch his fingers where they rested on the bar. "Let me take a few more drink orders before I have to dance."

"Right," he said. It was better that you didn't know. You were trying to make some money here, and he was already messing it up by talking to you for too long. "I'll catch you later."

He wandered off in the direction of the rest of the guys. "Yo, that blonde is so hot, and she made my drink perfectly," Mickey was saying as he drank something that looked fruity and sweet. 

"I'm an equal opportunity aviator tonight," Jake drawled. "I see a girl in a little outfit, she gets my phone number."

"You're delusional is what you are," Bradley told him as he sipped his beer. "All of you better leave Sparrow a massive tip. Seriously. I'm not kidding." 

He listened to the guys chat as he turned back toward the bar to check on you. It was almost time for you to dance, and his stomach was churning with anticipation and anxiety. He'd been dying to see you move like that again, but he could do without the memory of everyone else knowing how you looked when you shook your hips. 

Then you broke away from some guy who looked like a real tool who was reaching for you across the bar. You backed up and bumped into the mini fridge behind you and winced, and Bradley took a few steps in your direction. He memorized what that guy was wearing and what he looked like, just in case. 

But now it was time for you to dance, so at least you were able to step away from him. One of the cowgirls was helping you up onto the bar, and the crowd started cheering. The opening notes to Whole Lotta Love started playing, and Bradley's arms prickled with goosebumps as you ran your hand down to your waist and shook your hips from side to side. You were moving just like you had in your living room, but all he could think about were the times you sang this song to him. He wanted all of it to be just for him. He wanted to touch you the way you were touching yourself. He wanted to taste the sweat that glistened on your neck.

His jealousy flared, burning bright inside of him as he watched everyone crowd the bar as you strutted along with a smile on your face. And once again your smile brightened when you found him, and then you mouthed the lyrics, 'Way down inside, honey you need it. I'm gonna give you my love. I'm gonna give you my love.' You mouthed the words to him. 

Bradley grunted. His body felt like it was pulled taut like a rubber band, about to snap. You stopped at the end of the bar and did a little twirl as the crowd sang along to the song, but you kept your eyes on him. Your lips perfectly formed every word, and he'd never forget this feeling for the rest of his life. 

Then you turned away from him, and he instantly missed the way you were subtly giving him your attention. He moved forward a little bit through the crowd, wanting to get closer to you. When you spun around again, he saw you looking for him, and your smile wavered. 

"Sparrow!" he called out, and when you found him again, you laughed. And he laughed, too. But this must have been the breaking point in the evening, because Bradley got hit in the shoulder as a fight broke out to his right. Everyone got shoved forward, and a random glass of beer hit the bar. You tried to jump out of the way as your feet got soaked, and then your boss started yelling at you to keep dancing. Now when you looked at Bradley, you were no longer smiling.

He called your first name this time as you tried to step over the wet part of the bar and continue to the other end. Bradley saw him before you did. That asshole guy was back, and he smiled as he looked up your skirt. Bradley fleetingly remembered you told him you wore shorts under your skirt, and he really hoped you had them on tonight. But that wasn't the end of it, because now he was reaching out for your foot. 

"What the fuck?" Bradley shouted, handing his glass to a stranger as he tried to get to you. With that asshole's hand firmly wrapped around your ankle, you started to waver. You were nine feet up in the air, surrounded by glass bottles, and he knew he was closer to you than any of the bouncers. 

"Stop it!" you shouted above the music as you tried to pull yourself free, but that guy was unrelenting. You took one more awkward step before your body turned sideways. You were about to fall off the bar. Bradley fought his way forward as you tried to correct yourself, but it was too late, now it looked like you were going to land on your wrist on the bar, and probably break a bone. 

Bradley lunged just in time, and thankfully you saw him. You trusted him, and right now he could see that fact in your eyes. You let yourself fall forward into the crowd. Into his open arms. 

"Oh my god, Bradley!" you gasped as your arms wound around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. You were shaking.

"I've got you," he promised as the song played on. He wanted to throw that guy up against the wall, but he was too content holding you to him as you buried your face against his neck. Letting go of you wasn't really an option. He wrapped one big hand around your thigh while the other squeezed your waist. "I have you, Sparrow."

Jake and Javy were there now, and Bradley nodded to the guy who grabbed you. He'd let them take care of it, because now your lips were brushing his ear. "That was terrifying," you whispered, and someone finally changed the song while another dancer climbed onto the bar.

Bradley made the decision to carry you outside into the cool night, walking slowly down the block where it was quieter as you caught your breath. "Are you okay now?" he asked softly.

You nodded against him, and when he adjusted you in his arms, you quickly whispered, "Please don't put me down yet."

"I won't," he promised before pressing his lips to your collarbone. You whimpered, and he couldn't help it. He said, "I don't ever want to put you down. And for the record, I don't want you to dance here anymore either. I never wanted you to."

You lifted your head away from him, and Bradley practically melted as your fingers tugged through the hair at the back of his head. Your lips were pouty, and your eyes were trusting as you asked, "You never wanted me to?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

He knew he had to say it and risk ruining everything, because pretending like this friendship with you was enough was actually hurting him now. He looked at your pretty face as he said, "Because I'm in love with you. And I'm selfish and jealous, and I don't want a bunch of other guys watching you dance around in this little outfit. Dancing around to my song."

"Bradley." You leaned closer, and you didn't stop until your lips were on his. This was better than he thought it could be, already so comfortable around you. Already addicted to your voice and the way you felt in his arms. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you kissed him, parting his lips with yours until you were tasting him. When you pulled away with a little moan, you whispered his name again while you ran your thumb along his mustache. 

"Why did you dance to that song?" he demanded gently.

You pressed another kiss to his mouth before you said, "It made it less scary to get up on the bar when I was listening to a song that reminds me of you."

"Why?" he demanded again. 

Then you very easily and simply said, "Because I'm in love with you, too."

"Honey," he sighed against your lips, smiling this time as you slowly unwrapped your legs and slid down the front of his body. Once you were standing on your own, Bradley let his hands fall to your hips, and you wiggled yourself snug against his body. 

You felt just like his shower fantasies and all of his other fantasies, if he was being honest with himself. He thought about you all the time. You nibbled on his lips and dragged your fingers through his hair until he was frankly afraid he was going to get hard in his jeans right here on the sidewalk. He pried his lips from yours, making you pout, and he chuckled as he said, "Sparrow, you're killing me."

Your pout grew more pronounced as you said, "I want you to call me Honey again."

His smile must look ridiculous now as he said, "Honey."

"That's better," you said as your lips curled into a grin. "Let's get out of here."

"Do you think you should go back inside first?" he asked, hoping you'd just ditch the whole thing with him, but you nodded in response. 

"Yeah, good idea. I'll go quit in person," you said, taking his hand in yours.

He stood his ground in response, and you weren't able to move him, but one tug on your hand and you were headed right back to his arms. "Excellent. As soon as you do that, we can talk about how we aren't friends anymore."

"We're not?" you asked, and as soon as that pout started returning, Bradley leaned down and kissed you.

"Hell no," he whispered against your lips. "You're gonna be my girlfriend. And I'll be your boyfriend. And I'm going to take you back to my house. And this time when I carry you to bed, I'm going to stay there with you all night. If that's cool."

"It's so cool," you promised him, and this time when you tugged on his hand, he followed you back up the sidewalk. "It's almost as cool as a man in his thirties who has a keyboard."

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

You were honestly impressed by the way the other guys weren't phased at all. Maybe it was obvious that you and Bradley belonged together, but none of them found it surprising that you were suddenly a couple. It really wasn't sudden at all in your mind though. There was a slow build of trust and appreciation over time that turned physical as soon as Bradley admitted he was in love with you. And four months later, none of it had let up. In fact, you couldn't get enough, and neither could he.

"That's it?" he asked, pointing to the single box left in your trunk. 

"That's it," you told him as you picked it up. And then he picked you up and carried you toward his house while you laughed. You passed the planter boxes full of flowers and went through the pink door.

"Then it's official. You live here now. Welcome home, Honey."

"Oh please," you replied as he set you down. "I've been unofficially living here for months."

"All thanks to DJ Insomnia," he whispered, leaning down and placing an absolutely filthy kiss on your lips.

You moaned. "I owe him so much."

Bradley shrugged and said, "I think we would have eventually arrived at the same conclusion regardless."

"What conclusion would that be?"

"That you're in love with me."

You wanted to deny it, but you couldn't. "Help me unpack the rest of my clothes and shoes so we can explore another one of your shower fantasies."

Bradley moaned and said, "Absolutely. I'll meet you in the bedroom. I just need to get something first."

That's how you ended up putting your clothes on hangers while Bradley resurfaced a few minutes later with his keyboard. Instead of helping you in any way, he sat on the bed and started playing Whole Lotta Love. 

"I asked you to help me," you told him with a laugh as you tossed a pair of your shorts at him while he played. "You're worse than DJ Insomnia."

"Just for that, you get a remix too."

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

I'm not exactly sure how "Sneak Peek: Bradley's Version" ended up happening, but I hope you enjoyed it. I might like it even better than the Jake fic! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

[oreo-creampie]

“𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cam girl!reader, daddy/princess, satoru jerks off on live, squirting, edging, overstimulation, orgasm control, dacryphilia, light mind break, praise & degradation go hand in hand, anal, oral from the back, jerking off

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Hi, I love your works, would you consider writing about where the girl is a camgirl and the jjk men taking turn to make her cum and squirt by tipping her so they basically control the toys she has in her? I feel like you would be the perfect writer to write that kind of stuff.

𝐟𝐞𝐲: hi! :) I did this one separately, where they control when you cum, and they are either watching or recording with you. Since I don’t think they could all make the reader character squirt five times back to back. Hope you don’t mind the change and enjoy it anyway.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Come bidding war night Satoru dominated your stream. Making tonight another to add underneath the 'sugardaddy_69 bullies whore into tears' playlist.

Gliding his fist along his veiny long cock, his tip getting pinker the longer he pushes off cumming. He isn't letting you cum despite how you're begging. You sound too sexy, "Please daddy, need to!" The control he has over your pleasure is too sweet.

If only he could replace the dildo slowly fucking your beautiful, dripping wet cunt. He could squeeze your squishy thighs, bite your hip's soft crease, and take his time ruining you on camera.

Clinging onto the blanket beneath you, your slick dripping down your trembling thighs. "Please Daddy needacum I'm so close." You're slurring your words together, crying in desperation. Turning the toy off when he doesn't respond fast enough. Spreading your lips apart showing the camera your spasming cunt.

mommy_milkers22 donates 3,000: let her cum already got damn! wana see her pussy gush!

Gliding the still, long thick dildo into your cunt with a loud squelch. Turning the machine, it pace gets faster with each stroke. Your eyes roll back, and your loud moan almost makes him cum.

Quickly Satoru pays more than enough to get his way. Turning on his camera, already perfectly angled. It would be easy to get you to film with him after you took one look at his muscular body and long, veiny cock.

sugardaddy_69 donates 10,000: nice try, her cunt is mine. don't cum yet, keep fucking your beautiful cunt n check my account for my live stream

Leaning back and stroking his cock, watching you struggle to focus. Loudly moaning, gliding his hand along his cock. Pre-cum pearling on his pink cockhead. "Been edging myself too. You've been such a good girl. Cum right now and I'll fly you out to fuck you senseless." Your beautiful cunt gushes.

Satoru tugs on his fluffy hair, biting his lip, the veins in his cock pulse, and thick white cum spurts on his chiseled abs. Giving himself a few more strokes until it's too much. Smirking at your answer in his post nut haze.

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Trembling, your cunt clenching with each quick stroke. Gliding your dripping wet cunt on his veiny, thick cock by your hips. The sweet ache of Toji's merciless way of using your squelching cunt like it's a fleshlight adds to the pleasure.

Creaming on his thick cock, "That's how many?" Your toes curl from the way his cock head brushes your cervix. He's going painfully pleasurable deep into your cunt. You can't focus on coming up with an answer when his cock is stirring your pussy and brains up.

"If you can't count, you can't cum. Don't make me stop when your slopping cunt is trying to milk my cock." Whining, clenching his cock, eliciting a raspy groan from Toji.

Moaning, "Fiiive!" Slamming you down hard on his cock, rutting his hips up. His skin slaps yours. Your eyes roll back, toes curling, thighs trembling. "Nnn Daddy don't stop! Want everyone to see how big a slut I am for your cock!" Getting off on knowing there are several thousand people masturbating to you getting fucked stupid.

Toji grunts, "This is how you're supposed to fuck a whore." Rubbing your clit, your cunt spasm, clenching Toji's cock like you're pulsing. The building pleasure is too intense and you want it to crush you, and make your brain dead. You didn't need to think, you need to cum on Toji's thick cock.

"Look at your sloppy cunt taking my cock." Toji turns his head. Your cunt is so beautiful stretched wide by Toji's wet, veiny pale cock fucking into you. His cock is so big. How is your pussy fitting all of him?

Your tight cunt tugging he tries to bottom out. He groans, "Love the way she's too tight to let me go. Might have to stuff you full of cum." The thought pushes you over the edge. Thick cum gushes on Toji's cock, dripping onto the floor.

The computer chimes, "addicted_towhores420 paid 2,500 said: don't stop, break her cunt, cum in your whore. I want to see it drip out from between her lips when you pull out and she's gapping from being used." Your cunt clenches around Toji's cock.

"Please cum! Please cum! Wanna fill your warm cum drip outta my pussy." Fucking you faster with each word that comes out of your mouth till you can't speak. Moaning loudly, you can't think with how roughly Toji is fucking your overly sensitive cunt.

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

There is nowhere to move despite not being tied up. Trapped between Suguru's handsome face and the edge of the bed. Bent over occasionally reading the chat and watching Suguru eat your cunt till she's sloppy on stream.

He's filling your asshole with a pulsing, thick dildo. You could feel its powerful vibration in your cunt, clenching Suguru's pierced tongue. You're losing your mind from Suguru's relentlessly stoking your sweet spot with his hard metal tongue ring.

Your thighs are trembling. Rutting your hips against the edge of the bed. Clawing at the sheets. Reading out, "Can't believe she's trying to run away." Furrowing your brows, clenching Suguru's tongue. The soreness to your abused cunt adds to your pleasure.

Looking at the camera whining, "Can't help it. It's too much, Daddy's tongue feels too good! Can't cum! Wanna cum! Too much! Already cummed too much!" Your jaw drops and intense pleasure consumes you.

Squirting on Suguru's face, he tightens his grasp on your squishy thigh. Fucking the dildo into your ass quicker, twisting it. Both holes clenching, quivering, desperately trying to jerk your hips away.

You push Suguru's head back, tangling your fingers in his long hair. He groans into your cunt, gliding his tongue out. Licking your lips clean, rubbing your sensitive clit. Crying, glitching away from the intense pleasure.

Burying your face into the bed when he pulls away. Your wiggles settle into quivers, "We not done yet sweetheart." He pushes the dildo up to the hilt. Groaning, " Can't get enough of makin' you cum. Need to feel your sloppy cunt squeezin' my cock till it's too much for me to handle."

Lining his cock up, swiping it between your plush lips. Nudging barely the tip into your sensitive cunt, his fat head warm and soft. The temptation of the pleasure stretch his thick cock gives has you pushing your hips back.

Wrapping his hand around your neck, gradually choking you."Good girl, take your daddy's cock. I'm gonna fuck ya till you can't walk, break your beautiful cunt, fill her up, then eat her out some more." Lifting your body, holding you off the ground, keeping you bent over, fucking you like he hates you.

Oreo creampie’s m.list

[horrorhot-line]

rafayel's nsfw alphabet

➵ pairing: rafayel x female!reader

➵ word count: 3.3k

➵ genre: nsfw

➵ warnings: minors dni. this post is pure smut, no plot here. slight exhibitionism, sex toys, edging, blindfolding, handcuffs, overstimulation, somnophilia, praise kink, bondage.

➵ summary: pretty self explanatory, the nsfw alphabet on your favourite boy.

➵ xavier's ver. | zayne’s ver.

➵ masterlist  (requests are open)

horrorhot-line © 2024. all rights reserved.

notes: this one's for you @jaiden-zhou, i was gonna take a break and post these later, but your reblog asking for rafayel and zayne's version meant i got to work right away. hope you enjoy <3333

credit to @multi-fandom-imagine for the template

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

➵ a for aftercare (what is he like after sex?) he loves talking after sex. most would get tired after the extracurricular activities, you included, but not rafayel. he loves picking your brain about anything and everything. still semi inside you, lazily thrusting into you as he empties the last of his cum inside you, trailing kisses across your face as he asks you where you'd want to go if the two of you went travelling. he won't admit it, ever- but he does it because he's realised it's when you're the most honest, spent and cheeks still flushed after your orgasms, still delirious after he's fucked the living daylights out of you. he will also never admit, he doesn't want to fall asleep and running his mouth makes sure of that, he doesn't want to risk you leaving him again. "what do you think about the city of love? i'd love to fuck you in paris."

➵ b for body part (his favourite body part of his and also his partner's) he adores your body, you know this, but his absolute favourite part of you is your eyes. no matter how many lifetimes he's spent waiting for you, your eyes are always the same, soft, shining and focused only on him. he loves fucking you, starting off slow as his pelvis collides with your clit and has you seeing stars, he loves the way your gaze focuses on him when he's thrusting into you, pulling out ever so slightly only to snap his hips back into yours. and fuck, does he love the way he gets to watch your eyes roll back. his favourite part about himself is his dick, pretty self-explanatory. he loves the way you tell him his cock is perfect as he fucks into you, pressing the rough of his thumb against your clit as you throw your head back. "you look so pretty like this, drooling all cause of my cock."

➵ c for cum (anything to do with cum, basically) he may have asked if he could use your cum as paint once, promising he'll never let anyone else see his creation apart from you. rafayel loves shoving his cum back inside you when it leaks out, plugging you up with his fingers as he makes sure you don't waste a single drop, ignoring the way you look like absolute sin with tears of overstimulation in your eyes. though, he can't ignore the way his dick hardens again at the way you glow after you've orgasmed, thighs wet with slick and looking so inviting, "one more round? come on, i know you can cum again- do it for me."

➵ d for dirty secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his) if you hadn't guessed it already, rafayel lives for validation- your validation. he'll never admit it; he doesn't want to bruise his ego by telling you how much he likes hearing you whimper and moan. he loves when he first puts his dick inside you, grabbing the hand that reaches out to place itself on his stomach as you struggle to take him in, and he raises that same hand above your head so he can plug your slick pussy with his cock. "ah, ah, ah- you wanted this, can't back out now. instead of trying to stop, why don't you tell me how good my dick feels, hm?"

➵ e for experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?) he knows his way around, he's watched enough porn when he was researching for an art project of his. the real thing is different though, and he realises that when you're under him, spreading your legs for him, and he finds no matter how hard he tries, you're pussy is just too good. the first round is always quick, but he knows how to work his fingers and his tongue, making sure you cum more times than he can count before he's ready to go again, forcing your legs apart as he raises his top and bites down on it, watching how his dick enters you. "lost for words? why don't you start off by telling me how good i feel?"

➵ f for favourite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) this is a hard one for him, but if he had to choose it would definitely be cow girl. the sight of you riding his dick so well, struggling to take him in, sweat lining your bodies as he grips your tit and watches the other one bounce. he loves the way you lower your chest to his after a few minutes, legs aching, letting him know he can take over. he manages to hit all your sweet spots in this position too, and there's no escape for you as he wraps his arms around you, angling his hips to fuck into you, making sure you feel his tip against your cervix. "tired already? if you wanted me to take over, my love- all you had to do was ask."

➵ g for goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc) he knows how to be serious, but if there's a queef, he'll laugh. how can you expect him not to? that, and he likes catching you off gaurd, because when you join him, giggling at his antics, he snaps his hips into yours, setting a brutal pace that has you struggling to catch your breath. "what? you not gonna laugh, anymore? no? didn't think so."

➵ h for hair (how well groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes) he's always well-groomed. always clean-shaven and there's never a stubble that gives you carpet burn, because he likes to stay on top of it. he wants you to focus on the feel of his dick inside you and nothing else when he's pounding your wet cunt. he treats his body like a temple, basically. "i wanna look good for myself. it has nothing to do with you." (it does.)

➵ i for intimacy (how is he during the moment, romantic aspect…) rafayel acts like he doesn't care about being romantic, but he does. when he's not salty about how you make him wait, he gives you the best treatment, always eating you out first, fingering you until you can't take anymore, begging for him to fill you up with his cock, which he does, rubbing your clit as he rolls his hips into yours, making sure you remember the way his dick feels buried deep inside you. he always makes sure you finish, and he likes to admire the artwork in front of him one he's done, you laying flushed beneath him, lips parted, breathing heavily and still twitching. "you look so pretty when i'm through with you. hey, can i draw you like this? no? just one quick sketch, please…"

➵ j for jacking off (masturbation headcanon) you make him horny 24/7, even when you're not around. he'll be in his studio, casually painting and lounging when you pop into his head, and his mind will drift to all the times you've been underneath him. by the time you've come home to him, he's a needy mess, flushed, dick in his hand already leaking precum as he begs you to help him out because he's been edging himself for hours, waiting for you. "please, my love. i need you."

➵ k for kink (one or more of their kinks) what kinks does he not have? he has a huge praise kink, that's for sure. loves it when you get vocal and tell him how good he feels, how he's too deep and that it's too much, he loves watching you struggle to take him all in, slamming the last few inches in just so he can hear you sob. he's also a huge fan of overstimulation; he loves pushing you past your limits, watching you become a mess as he squeezes out another orgasm with his fingers. he's into bondage too, something about the idea of you being all tied up, looking pretty for him, helpless to what he has in store for you. he's a bit of a switch, too- he loves you taking control when you've had enough of his teasing just so he can roll you over and force you to take his dick. he also adores watching you use him, making yourself feel good with his cock. "you gonna cum, baby? feel good? who knew you'd love my dick this much?"

➵ l for location (favourite places to do the do) he's a bit of an exhibitionist, reckons it comes with the job description of being an artist. so, he likes it anywhere as long as it's you. he has a list of places he'd love to dick you down at, but his favourite would be his art studio. you're his muse, what gives his paintings colour and life, and he loves spreading you across his desk, raising your hips off the table so he can snap his hips into you only to imagine the same scenario as he starts his new piece. he also loves the beach; something about being close to home, the waves around your feet and hands as he bends you over, lifting you by the arm so you're body's flush against his, calloused fingers reaching for your clit. he loves the way he can feel the water against his thighs as you throw your head back against his shoulder, and he can watch your lovely fucked out expression. "told you the sea was warm during the summer. having fun, baby?"

➵ m for motivation (what turns him on, gets him going) just thinking about it gets him horny; you know this already. it doesn't matter where the two of you are, he will borrow your hole to empty his load, whining and teasing you until you give in, finding the nearest secluded place before pulling his pants down and sliding your panties to the side. you have this effect on him, he can't control himself, and he blames you for it, something he lets you know often as he fucks you from behind, grabbing your tit in one hand, arm under your shoulder and across your chest to lock you in place so you can't run, "it's all your fault for turning me on. that means it's your responsibility to help me out."

➵ n for nicknames (what are his favourite pet names for you? what does he call you when you're both alone?) he calls you 'my love.' a lot- something about your heart being his. he likes calling you his, repeating the words "mine, mine, mine." as he's fucking into you before his lips latch onto yours, swallowing your moans and desperate cries. he does like to use babe when he's teasing you or being mean as payback for you making him wait, rubbing your swollen clit, grabbing the wrist that reaches out to stop him as he rolls his hips into yours, "come on babe, i know you have more left in you. cum one more time for me- yeah?"

➵ o for oral (preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc) he loves receiving but will never pester you for it. he'll ask, but if you say no, then so be it. when you do agree, though, he'll shove himself as deep as he can go, hissing as his tip kisses the back of your throat, running his fingers through your hair before wiping away the stray tear going down the side of your temple, smiling down at you as he reaches over to plug his fingers in your pussy, stretching you out as you choke on his dick. "don't cry, my love. save your tears for when i fill you up. not long now, i know you can do it."

➵ p for pace (is he fast or rough? slow or sensual?) he's not slow, but he is sensual. setting a brutal pace that has you falling off the edge and clenching your thighs as your orgasm hits you, before slowing down his thrusts and taking his time, letting you ride out your high before he's fucking into you again, squeezing your ass and moving you up and down his dick so his cock reaches the deepest it can inside you. "you're mine, yeah? fuck, you're so tight. 'm gonna cum inside you."

➵ q for quickie (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc) yes, the answer is yes anytime that word is used in a sentence. he'll wait for you to initiate unless you make him horny, which is more often than not- he loves subtly teasing you, hands finding their way into your panties underneath tables, fingers tracing your hips, feather-light touches across your thighs to let you know he needs you, leading you to wherever's semi-decent before he's shoving your clothes aside, bending you over and kicking your legs apart so he can fuck you until he's satisfied. "you're gonna have to cover again with thomas for me, babe. this is all you, you know? wearing those thigh highs- thinking i wouldn't react."

➵ r for risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks, etc) definitely game to experiment, he adores finding new ways to pull reactions out of you. the first time he tried fluffy handcuffs and a blindfold on you, he swore it was the hardest he'd ever been. he was in awe, starstruck, watching you twitch at the slightest touch, looking all pretty and helpless. you were at his mercy, and it made his cock twitch. the wait was worth it, though- after he was done using his fingers to push you over the edge enough times, he lined himself up with your pussy, and hissed at the way he slid right in. buried completely inside you, he held your hips up as he started fucking you, realising you were louder when your sight was covered. "who knew you'd like being used? since you enjoy it so much, why don't we do this more often?"

➵ s for stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last) you usually lose track after the 7th to 8th round, mind blank after he's pulled another orgasm from you, towering over your spent body, a smug smile on his face as he pulls his dick out of you, slapping it against your slick pussy a few times, before shoving it back in completely, with no warning. he will quite literally fuck you until you pass out. "come on, babe. keep your eyes open, and on me- i know you can go one more round."

➵ t for toy (does he own toys? does he use them? partner or himself?) he owns quite a few, most are in the first drawer of his bedside table, the others are scattered across his mansion. he likes buying them to see how you react, keeping the ones you enjoy the most. his favourites are the ones that focus on your clit, he loves fucking you when he uses them, feeling your pussy spasm around him as you cum again. he does own a pussy pocket and uses it often when you're away. also, he's definitely asked if he can have one moulded to the shape of your cunt specifically.

➵ u for unfair (how much does he like to tease) he's very unfair, often teasing you as payback for all the years you've made him wait for you, thumb hovering over your clit as he stops you from orgasming, halting his thrusts as he watches you try and grind against his dick. he turns your head to him and kisses you, mouth swallowing your complaints and sobs as he watches you twitch from overstimulation. he breaks the kiss only to fuck into you nice and slow, building up the pace before he's slamming into you from behind, arms wrapping around you when you try to crawl away from him with how sensitive you are. "what now, my love? you can't move, poor thing. try and escape me this time."

➵ v for volume (how loud is he? what sounds does he make?) he loves being vocal, letting you know just how good you feel as he manages to stuff his dick in your tight cunt, tip kissing your cervix as you double over at the feeling of being so full. he'll pull you right back up against his chest, not letting you catch your breath as he starts fucking into you, fingers flicking your hardened nipples, hands squeezing your tits as he moans in your ear. doesn't help that he sounds like pure sin, and his moans alone have you tightening around his cock. "fuuuck, you have no idea how good you feel. you're so wet, baby… feeling good? yeah? i know i am."

➵ w for wildcard (random headcanon for him) you agree to it after he gives you the pros and cons, and find that he uses it every chance he gets. you didn't expect this out of him, but this man really wants to fuck you in your sleep. just something about the idea of having his way with you when you're not conscious. that, and he gets horny during the night and doesn't wanna wake you just to fuck you. he'd much rather finger you until you're ready to take him, stirring in your sleep but not fully awake as he rubs his dick along your pussy, using your slick to lube himself up before he's lining himself up and shoving his dick in, inch by inch. he'll rolls his hips experimentally, and moan softly in your ear. he waits for you to wake up, dazed and disoriented as your brain catches up, before he slams his dick completely into you, not giving your confused mind the chance to register your arousal as he starts rubbing your clit, teasing an orgasm out of you the minute you're up. "there she is. how'd you like your wake-up call, babe?"

➵ x for x-ray (what's going on in those pants of his) his dick is perfect, no, really. it is the most gorgeous dick you have ever seen, not a hair in sight, and his tip is the prettiest pink colour, all flushed from how turned on he gets because of you. he's circumcised, hates the idea of his penis ever getting dirty or smelling, that- and he reckons it makes it easier for you to suck him off. he has length and girth, not too big that it hurts but enough that you can feel him in your gut when he's inside you.

➵ y for yearning (how high is his sex drive) very high, no matter how many times he fucks you, he can never get enough. rafayel loves the feel of your pussy, maybe more than the feel of a paintbrush in his hand when he has newfound motivation to finish a project, and he enjoys having his way with you whenever he wants. if he's ready to go, it means you'll soon follow. you can't refuse him when his touch trails across your bare skin, hands down your panties and fingers shoved two digits deep inside you, teasing and edging you until you give in to his need to fuck. "you can't blame me- it's your fault for looking so pretty, all fucked up like this. 'm gonna mark you up, let everyone know you're mine."

➵ z for zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards) he wants to fall asleep right after he's done with you, having spent most of his energy fucking you until you're leaking his cum all over the bed sheets, but he likes staying awake until you pass out, idle talk lulling you to slumber as he brushes your hair out your face and behind your ear, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest before he pulls you into his arms and rests his cheek against your tits. "you're asleep already? …i love you."