I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.

(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )

Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol

I took this and RAN with it.

It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.

I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!

Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.

Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?

“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”

You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.

“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.

“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.

“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”

You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”

Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.

Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.

You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.

Or maybe he thought you were cute.

Oh fuck, if only.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.

The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.

No, get it together. Now’s not the time.

You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.

“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.

Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.

Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.

You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.

You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.

You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.

Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“

Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”

Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.

“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.

“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.

Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.

Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.

“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”

“Find Barnes.”

Find Barnes.

The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.

No. No, no, no.

There’s a hit out on you?

To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.

Oh you were so fucked.

You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.

Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.

He’s not in the wind.

He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.

“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.

He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.

Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.

Oh god.

The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.

You’re going to die.

So why are you so fucking turned on?

Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.

God this is so wrong.

His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.

His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“

His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.

Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.

He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.

He groans.

He fucking groans.

“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.

“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.

“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.

He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.

He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.

“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.

“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“

His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.

He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.

His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka

Part two

The Biology Tutor

📕 Lesson 1: Female Anatomy

Continue studying: Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Lesson 3: Human Reproduction | Extra Credit 01: Communication Skills

Pairing: Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Summary: Eddie’s failing class, so you decide to offer two different styles of biology tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

W/C: something around 4k (I didn’t do a word count after editing, sorry)

CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI!, NSFW, PWP, smut with a story. Exhibitionism (f), mutual masturbation (m+f), swearing, innuendo, pet names, slight sub/dom dynamic, subtle size kink? Both Reader & Eddie are overage. No y/n. Reader’s appearance is not described, it can be whatever you like.

A/N: A cute little bit of biology lesson-based smut. I’m a sucker for virgin!Eddie and wanted to see if I could write him. Let me know how I did! 😄

My masterlist

You’ve had a crush on the guy in your Biology class since the beginning of the year when you first saw him ranting on a table in the cafeteria. There’s something about him that’s so different from the guys you’d usually go for. You run in completely different social circles, you with the academically-gifted ‘Brainy Bunch’ (an eye-rollingly terrible moniker coined by the we-think-we’re-so-clever jocks), and him with his nerdy friends. Despite this you find him unusual and intriguing, not to mention hot as all hell. You guess the ‘freak metalhead’ look doesn’t work for everyone, but his long hair and rebellious dark ink are certainly doing it for you. You really want to discover what’s underneath those layers of denim, leather and torn shirts, your imagination only able to go so far as you ponder his form late at night in your bed.

However, girls talk, and you’ve never heard of him being with any of them, or even speaking to all that many. For all his bravado and apparent confidence, you’re reasonably certain that Eddie Munson is still a virgin.

And for some reason this draws you to him even more.

You’re pretty sure you’ve caught Eddie checking out your ass as it’s perched on a high stool while he sits behind you in the biology lab. On days when you’re in this class you’ve started to wear your tightest jeans, and your shortest skirts (though if anyone asked you’d insist it was a coincidence).

Somehow you’ve become inexplicably clumsy (but only in this class, how odd…), often dropping your pencil and having to bend over to pick it up, occasionally chewing on the end in contemplation when you know he’s watching, much to the chagrin of your teacher.

“Never put anything in your mouth in the lab, you should all know better by now.”

You smirk at the innuendo in Eddie’s direction and he quickly looks away, ears exposed by his lab-regulation tied-back hair a little pink at the tips.

You also often ‘forget’ or ‘lose’ equipment, asking him if he’s got a spare, or could he please get you a replacement from the cupboards, which he’s always more than willing to do (giving you ample opportunities to observe his denim-clad ass as he does so).

“Damn, I seem to be one test tube short. Eddie, would you be a doll and get me one from the cupboard?”, crossing your legs and subtly ensuring the hem of your skirt rides up just a little more.

Eddie looks you up and down (result!) and agrees.

“Thanks, you really are my knight in shiny, um, leather?” You wince slightly at your clumsy comment, but he takes it in his stride, continuing the bit by replying,

“Here you go, your majesty”, bowing theatrically and presenting the glassware to you atop his forearm, making you grin.

In another lesson: “Shit, I tore my filter. Eddie, do you have a spare?”

“Anything for the Princess of Biology.”

He gives you a little smirk, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly. You can’t help gazing at his strong, ring-clad hands as he hands you the little circle of absorbent paper.

It becomes somewhat of a game, you playing the Princess and he the rescuing knight.

But for all your teasing you genuinely do actually want to help him pass the class. You don’t want him to have to repeat the year - you’ve seen him play at The Hideout and you know he’s meant for greater things.

It’s just biology, it can’t be any harder than what little you’ve picked up about that complicated game he plays, which seems to be all numbers, convoluted plots and organising “campaigns”, whatever they are. You’re sure he could pass if he’d just apply himself.

Or, perhaps, he just needs the right tutor…?

You’d broached it with your science teacher, offering to help ‘any students who were behind’ for extra credits. After he’d agreed you’d approached Eddie that same day, offering to come to his home and help him with his overdue assignments.

He was confused and skeptical at first, thinking this could all be some elaborate prank, but you were gentle and persuasive, and he’d agreed to pick you up later that day.

You’re sitting on his worn-out sofa, draped with a well loved but soft blanket. You’ve spent the last hour trying to get Eddie to understand cellular respiration (“Isn’t it just, like, breathing in and out?” “No, Eddie, this is cell biochemistry, it’s a bit more complicated than that”), but nothing you attempt seems to be working.

He’s despondent, won’t look at you, and seems resigned to his fate of never passing this particular subject, interjecting with statements like,

“Look, it’s just not going in.”

“I don’t know how to make it stick.”

“I don’t think I’ll get it, Princess, even if you beat it into me.”

The innuendo (accidental or not) is driving you crazy. As is Eddie’s lack of self belief.

You’d even tried explaining it by using D&D analogies.

“Think of the chemical reactions like individual characters interacting in groups. Like, if this particular troupe disband and some make allegiances with another, the group has different skills and attributes now, right?” But after a promising start even that doesn’t seem to hold his attention.

In fact, the more animated you get and closer you sit, the more distracted and fidgety he becomes, unwilling to engage fully with you and shifting uncomfortably.

You move further towards him on the sofa, determined to give it one last shot, and force him to make eye contact with you.

Their colour and depth surprises you as you look into them properly for the first time, noticing their rich, swirling chocolate and whiskey hues.

Your eyes briefly drop to his lips, the soft pink, plump, velvety pillows looking mightily enticing. God, they’re perfect.

Goosebumps rise on your arm as you feel his surprisingly soft curls tickle your shoulder.

Okay, you knew he was cute, but up close? Fucking hell…

You lean across your notes and over to the text book that’s on his other side. Your thighs are touching, and as you twist the side of your breast makes contact with his arm. If he looked slightly down and towards you he’d be able to see right down the neck of your tank top. You kind of hope he does.

Huffing, you prod at the book with your hand, hoping that the diagram on the page might make everything clearer. The movement makes your boobs jiggle a little.

You hadn’t noticed he’d stopped breathing and he suddenly lets out a huff of breath, covering it with a badly faked cough. His cheeks have flushed a light shade of pink.

So, you definitely weren’t imagining all that stuff in class.

Fuck it. You consider this might be the only opportunity you might get to do this, so decide to grab it. After all, academic tutelage was only part of your motivation to get him alone, and something you’ve been thinking about for a long time, one of the fantasies that keeps you up at night, pops into your head. One that would definitely get his attention. And if you can’t help his confidence academically, perhaps you can help with it somewhere else. Call it interpersonal tutelage…?

With as much nonchalance as you can muster, you say, “Um, maybe we should take a break. Y’know, relax a little?”

You scootch away to the end of the sofa, putting your back against the armrest and bringing your feet up onto the cushion in front of you. You grab a couple of throw cushions and slot them behind you, getting comfortable.

Eddie seems to relax a little too once you’ve moved away, but still looks uneasy.

God, are you really going to do this? What if he screams and runs away, or worse, tells his friends, or your classmates..? No, you’ve been thinking about this for far too long. Oh, fuck it x 2…

Feigning a stretch, you arch your back and place your hands at the back of your waist, pushing your chest, and breasts, upwards. Then you move them to the sides of your ribs, glancing over the sides of your boobs, seemingly-innocently pushing them together. You move a hand underneath one of your breasts, cupping it gently in the crook of your thumb and forefinger.

Eddie is still sitting tensely on the front edge of the sofa cushions, stealing sideways glances at you through the curtain of his hair.

“C’mon, Eddie, get comfy with me. It’ll help, I promise.”

Self-consciously, Eddie shifts himself and sits facing you, cross-legged, at the other end of the sofa. You give him a soft smile, which he returns with a slightly bashful one of his own, afterwards rolling his lips inwards between his teeth.

Okay, it’s now or never. Are you gonna be able to concentrate on this, Eddie?

You hum quietly, and almost closing your eyes you run a palm down your chest and over your belly. You drop one knee slightly out to the side, and run your hand down the inside of your thigh and back up it, eventually pushing your fingers between your thighs and cupping your mound with your palm.

You see Eddie’s eyes widen and hear a stifled choke.

Your hand moves to fully cup your breast, and you lightly trace your thumb over your hardening nipple whilst the hand between your legs begins to apply gentle pressure, making you inhale deeply.

Eddie watches you, agape, bringing his hands together and clasping one hand over the other in front of him, you surmise to disguise his burgeoning bulge.

You open your eyes a little, keeping them soft and half lidded, and gently smile in Eddie’s direction, ensuring he’s still watching you.

Using both hands to pop the button and lower the zipper on your jeans, you tease yourself by running the pretty elastic trim of your your panties between your fingertips, pulling it slightly away from you and letting it snap back onto your abdomen.

“Uh…”, he swallows hard, and you internally groan at the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing in that delicious neck, “What’re you doing..?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Eddie? I’m… relaxing…”

Sighing out the last word, you choose this moment to slip your hand down the front of your underwear, sliding over your mound and dipping just the tip of one finger between your folds, feeling the wetness that’s already pooled there. Your forehead furrows a little and you let out a quiet, contented hum.

Eddie’s eyes widen further and his eyebrows disappear completely under his bangs, and he sounds a little like he’s suffocating.

He tries to move further away from you along the sofa, unsuccessfully however as he’s wedged against the other armrest.

“Uh, I can, y’know, leave, or you could use my room, or, I can take you home, or, or-”

He’s babbling, and looking everywhere but at you. That’s not what you want at all, and you’re also concerned that he looks so uncomfortable.

“I can stop, if you want…”

He rushes out a reply, almost shouting the first syllable.

“N-NO! Um, no, it’s okay, really.”

“Okay, Eddie, stay right there. Keep your eyes on me, I wanna give you a show.”

He looks even more shocked, jaw dropping open, and you think he might bolt. But after a moment it’s clear that despite being full of anxiety, fear and self-consciousness, his curiosity, hormones and horniness are winning out, and he fixes his gaze on you.

He manages to squeak out, “Ok-aay…”

You lift your hips, using both hands to push your jeans and underwear down your legs until they reach your ankles. You slowly splay your knees, finally exposing yourself fully to Eddie’s gaze. One hand comes back to your breast, and you pinch your fabric-covered nipple between your thumb and forefinger.

He takes in the sight before him, the soft fur around your core, your wet folds glistening in the dim light of his living room, your sultry gaze, the peaks of your hardened nipples now visible through the thin fabric of your top.

He lets out a stuttering breath as his hips involuntarily shift underneath him, trying to find some friction.

“Jeezus fuck, Princess, are you tryin’a kill me?”

You try to think of something that might help relax him.

“If it helps you can imagine that we’re still studying. How about a quick lesson in female anatomy..?”

You move your hand down and with featherlight touches trace your fingertips around your pussy.

“Now, this whole area is my vulva.”

Eddie gulps.

Making a vertical line you trace your fingers over your wet lips.

“These are my labia.”

Eddie’s lips press together and he lets out a stammering hum, closing his eyes momentarily before snapping them back open so he doesn’t miss a thing.

“Are you paying attention, Eddie? This part is really important. This-,” you inhale sharply as you trail your wet fingers upwards and make contact, “This is where you’ll find my clit- fuck-”

It feels so delicious you almost don’t manage to finish your sentence, and you let out a long, low hum. Part of you doesn’t want to stop, but you’ve got more planned. Moving your fingers down again, you say,

“And this, here? This is my vagina…”

With a smile, you watch him stare as you dip a fingertip into your sopping hole, letting out a low moan as you gradually slip it inside of you.

“You know what the g-spot is, Eddie? I can show you where to find it, if you want me to…?”

You slide your finger in further, curling it towards your front wall, almost managing to tickle that certain spot within and letting out a loud groan.

At the other end of the sofa Eddie gasps an inhale, whimpering slightly, and you see him press the heel of his hand into his crotch. The combination of his sounds and actions is making you impossibly wetter - the boys you’ve been with before didn’t do much of either, and you didn’t know how much it turned you on.

You watch his face as he stares intently at your weeping centre as you slowly, so slowly move your finger in and out a few times.

“D’you think you’ll remember that, Eddie?”

“I promise I’ll fuckin’ try, Jesus Christ…”

He swallows again, exhaling heavily.

Deciding it’s time for the main event, you bring the hand that was squeezing your breast down your body, moving your fingertips to your clit and applying gentle pressure.

“I want you to see how wet you make me, Eddie. I want you to know how much I enjoy you watching my ass in biology class, how often I’ve thought about it when I’m alone. How much I like checking yours out in those oh-so tight jean- oh!”

A particularly exquisite circle followed by a firm press on your clit makes you moan out loud. The combination of both your hands has you close, closer than you imagined you’d be at this stage. It takes much longer when you’re by yourself, and you’re surprised and excited by just how much you’re enjoying having Eddie watch you.

Eddie’s fully gripping himself through his jeans now and is breathing heavily through his nose. He looks big, and you salivate at the thought.

You really want to see what he’s been hiding inside that tight denim.

“Show me, Eddie, I wanna see you.”

Hesitantly, never having experienced anything even close to this before, Eddie mumbles,

“You, uh…?”

“I wanna see you. Take out your cock. Let me see all of you, please.”

He’s rubbing himself, and you can see how strained his jeans are, a wet stain now visible in the dark fabric.

Slowly, eyes never leaving your face and looking for any tiny indication that you’re uncomfortable or have changed your mind, he slowly undoes his button and pulls down his zipper.

His languid pace is killing you, but in a good way; you realise he most likely has no idea what this is doing to you.

He rearranges the front of his jeans, opening the fly wide and leaving nothing but a thin layer of checkered cotton covering his member. The tent it’s creating is impressive.

He watches you stare and run your wet tongue over your bottom lip.

Letting out a nervous breath between pursed lips, he pushes one hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, using his thumb and two fingers to hold his cock at the base. Using his other hand he slowly, agonisingly slowly, pulls the fabric out and downwards, gradually exposing his full member to the lights of the room and to you.

You pause your own movements and spend a moment taking it in. It’s long, with an impressive girth - you briefly wonder whether he knows what he’s packing - and it’s the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. Lengthy, veined, slightly curved, and thick, so thick.

Eddie watches your expression for a moment. Satisfied that you’re not freaked or about to run away screaming, he brings the rest of his fingers to join the others, wrapping himself fully in his fist and squeezing gently, causing a little bead of precum to collect on the tip.

You take in the sight before you for a few moments, then utter, completely honestly, “Eddie, in case no one’s ever told you this, you have a really beautiful dick.”

His face and neck turn the second-prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen.

“No one’s ever told me that before, Princess.” Adding, almost in a whisper, “In fact, no one’s ever seen it.”

He chuckles lightly through that last sentence, embarrassed at what he’s just admitted. The ego boost of your comments has clearly given him some confidence though, as he adds with a slight smirk, a little breathy as he runs the pad of his thumb unhurriedly over his tip, “You, uh, really think so?”

Oh, so he likes me watching him too?

You can’t take your eyes off of it.

“I really do, Eddie. It’s so pretty.”

As if to confirm your statement you resume your hand movements, adding another finger and resuming circling your clit with the other. You notice that Eddie’s started moving too, his hand moving over himself in a deft gripping and twisting motion, his hips bucking up every now and again.

For a few moments neither of you say anything, the only sounds in the room your combined panting breaths and the lewd movements of wet skin.

Your clit is swollen and supremely sensitive, and, pushing in a little further, your fingers just tickle that exquisite spot within you.

You moan as you imagine it’s Eddie’s pretty cock inside you. That he’s leaning over you, thrusting into you, hitting that spot effortlessly. Maybe even talking to you, telling you how good your pussy feels, how well you’re taking him…

Suddenly your eyes roll back in your head and your mouth hangs open, a gutteral moan emerging from your chest as you get closer and closer.

Bringing your attention back to him you mumble, hurriedly,

“Jeezus Eddie, I’m gonna cum, you wanna see me cum?”

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire fucking life.”

Eddie’s words come out in a spluttering rush and on his last word your breathing halts, your muscles lock and you cum, hard, clenching around your fingers and letting out an involuntary strangled scream.

Somewhere in the back of your fuzzy mind you think you hear Eddie let out a loud, “Holy shhhiiiit!”

You come down a little, opening your eyes and locking them with Eddie’s. You ride out your aftershocks, humming as you feel your fingers inside of you and your juices running down them. You eventually remove your fingers from your cunt, leaving its puffy wetness fully on display, and trace them around your lips and clit.

“F-fuck, Princess, that’s the hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen…”

Eddie’s red-faced and panting, his cock still very much standing to attention in his now vice-like grip, the tip an angry red and leaking copious amounts of precum. His eyes are blown dark, the chocolate rims almost completely obscured. His face and neck are flushed and he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, and he’s clenching his jaw, looking like he’s trying desperately not to bust.

“Are you ok over there, Eddie?”

“Shit, yeah, yes, I mean, fuck.”

Breathily, you ask him,

“Do you wanna cum?”

“Fuck yes, I just, I didn’t know whether you wanted me to.”

“Oh I do Eddie, I really do. It’s your turn now. You gonna cum for me? Please, let me see you lose it, show me everything you’ve got.”

He breathes out a loud sigh in what seems like relief. You like how good he’s being for you, learning yet more about yourself that you didn’t know before.

His fist speeds up as his other hand comes to hold his balls, deftly stroking and rolling the flesh. His brow furrows deeply and his lips clamp shut around a low moan. He’s staring intently at you, eyes flicking between your face and your still-dripping cunt.

Suddenly his expression turns to one resembling surprise, as his eyebrows lift and his mouth opens, a string of expletives leaving those perfect, plump lips,

“Fuck, fuck, Jeezus, motherf-, oh my-, fuckfuckfuuuck!”

His jaw drops as his abdomen contracts, and his eyes fix on your cunt as he jets hot ropes of white cum into the air and over his fist and t-shirt. There’s so much, and it seems never ending.

The sight is even better than you’d imagined it might be and your hips buck up into your hand, making you press your fingers into your clit again triggering another aftershock, and you find yourself moaning along with him.

For a few moments there’s more silence, aside from your panting and heavy breathing.

Eventually Eddie chuckles a little, and you huff a breath out through your nose with a smile on your face.

You’re both a sweaty, sticky mess, but neither of you care.

“Fuck, Eddie, that was…” You’re lost for words.

“Amazing? Incredible?” Seeing the grin plastered across Eddie’s face is easily as gratifying as all the other stuff you’ve done tonight.

You both giggle as Eddie says, “Fuck me, Princess, you’re definitely the best tutor I’ve ever had.”

Neither of you really want to move, but some cleanup is definitely necessary. Eddie takes the blanket from the sofa and throws it in the washer, cleaning up quickly in the bathroom, letting you know when it’s free and returning in a change of clothes, throwing the others in with the blanket.

As you both process what’s just transpired you share timid glances and half smiles.

You both sit on the sofa again as you start to pack up your notes and books. In another unforeseen realisation, you’re surprised at how much you’ve enjoyed Eddie’s company, and the warm feeling you get inside every time he looks at you is entirely unexpected.

You realise you’re gonna have to be the one to say something, and give Eddie a smirk.

“So, how about next time we do some practical revision on, maybe, male anatomy?”

He looks a little surprised, but certainly not unhappy at the suggestion that there might actually be a ‘next time’.

“You really wanna, uh, tutor me again?”

Nodding in the affirmative, you reply, “Oh yeah, I think we’ve both learned a lot this afternoon.”

Holding his gaze, you suggest,

“Same time next week..?”

Continue studying with Lesson 2: Male anatomy

A/N 2: I’ve been having thoughts about making this a miniseries, so please let me know if you’d like to see a second “lesson” 😉

Thanks so much for reading!

Likes are great, but please also consider supporting writers with comments and reblogs - they help fics get seen, and it genuinely means the world! 🌍 ❤️

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My masterlist

This fic is inspired by this art from @furaitsu on Twitter. You all should follow them. They draw amazing art of the COD boys.

Pairing: plus!sized!reader (but tbh could really be any reader :)) x Johnny “Soap” Mactavish

Warnings: m!dom to m!sub dynamics kinda, f!dom, p in v sex, choking, clothing fetish???

You buy a cute little outfit to show off in for Johnny, but to be honest… you kinda wanna see what he would look like in it muahaha.

“Well, whaddya think?” You ask your boyfriend Johnny. You’re standing in front of him and do a twirl, showing off the cute outfit you had on just for him.

You’re wearing black thigh highs that squeeze your thighs so perfectly, a red and black plaid skirt with a chain on the front, and a little cropped mesh top, that doesn’t really leave much to the imagination.

Johnny sits on the couch in front of you, legs spread out as he leans back and stares at you in awe, raking his eyes up and down your body with his thick arms crossed over his chest.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Johnny says through his teeth, nearly growling at you like a wolf would to its prey before it attacks.

You giggle at his reaction. This is exactly how you wanted him to react.

“C’mere bonnie.” Johnny says, leaning his elbows on his knees and gesturing for you to come his way.

You walk up to him and stand between his thighs. He places his chin on your soft tummy and looks up at you while he runs his hands up your thighs and eventually under your skirt, grabbing your ass, which earns him a little shriek out of you.

“Fuck baby. Holy shit you look fuckin’ stunning.” Johnny says nuzzling his face into the side of your waist as he lets his hands wander.

“Need to fuck you in this, but I’m afraid it won’t last very long. Would have it in shreds by the time we’re done. Would hate to see this cute lil outfit go to waste.” He says with a laugh, nipping his teeth at the waistband of your skirt.

And as you look down at him looking up at you, already drunk off of you. An idea of how your pretty little outfit won’t go to waste pops into your head and you smile mischievously down at him.

Johnny was a big, thick man. Even though you weren’t the smallest yourself, he still dwarfed you with the sheer mass of himself. But the material of your outfit was super stretchy. It’s what made you buy it in the first place. It was size inclusive.

“Well pretty boy.” You say as you lift his chin from your midsection forcing him to make eyecontact with you.

“Why don’t you wear it then. That way it won’t go to waste.” You say, your sly smile widening. Now you were the one who looked like a wolf about to pounce on its prey.

Johnny’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. But he looked amused.

“You want me to wear it?” He laughs, eyes still wide as saucers. “I don’t think it’ll fit me as well as it does you love. Might rip something.”

“Nah I don’t think so.” You say. “It’s pretty stretchy.”

Johnny glances to the side as if he’s considering it. Then he smiles.

“Besides, bet you’d look hot as fuck in it with those thighs of yours.” You tease, earning a chuckle out of Johnny.

“Ok, yeah, fuck it. I would look good as hell wouldn’t I.” He boasts, and you both get to undressing while you giggle like teens hooking up for the first time.

When you both get undressed, and Johnny has finally slipped into what was your outfit, you took a second to admire that gorgeous body of his. The outfit really did suit him.

“Ah fuck, ‘s a bit tight yeah?” Johnny says pulling the thigh highs up that keep rolling down.

He looked so. damn. delicious.

You zone out, ignoring his comments laughing at how you can see the bottom of his ass if he bent down just barely, and if he could trick his teammates into thinking this was actually a kilt. You were too busy drinking in the sight of him and his muscular, thick thighs that spilled over the top of the stockings and his arms and chest stretching the fabric that adorned his body ever so slightly.

“Yeah I know, I look silly.” He chuckles, responding to your silent ogling.

“On the couch.” You demand, catching him off guard.

“Oh.” He says amused. “Guess I don’t look silly then.” He smirks.

“Shut up and sit down on the couch.”

He obeys, sitting down, and you walk up to him, not caring that you’re fully naked and he wasn’t. You kinda liked it that way anyway.

You straddle his waist and run your hands up his chest, your body hovering over where his dick would be, since it was covered by the skirt. I mean, it was kind of easy to spot anyhow, with the way it was starting to make a tent in the skirt.

You sloppily kiss and lick up his neck, nice and messy, just the way he likes it. His hands grip your hips and he grinds up into you through the fabric of the skirt.

“Fuck. Keep doin’ that and you’ll be the death of me lass.” He moans out breathily.

You wrap a hand around his throat as you continue marking his neck but very lightly squeeze as a sign to tell him to stop talking, and he throws his head back and moans at the way you’re handling him.

He bucks his hips up into you in pleasure of you slightly choking him.

“Mmph- fuck, harder- squeeze harder.” He whines. And you do, earning a pornographic moan out of him as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

You grind your bare pussy down over the skirt onto the print of his dick and he’s so hard he whimpers at the sensation.

Your hand still around his neck, you whisper in his ear.

“My pretty boy wanna get fucked hm?”

Johnny turns his head to you, placing his forehead on yours.

“Go on bonnie, fuck me.”

And with that you flip up the skirt, revealing his hard and leaking cock. The sight makes your pussy pulse with anticipation of feeling it in you.

You line yourself up and sink down easily onto him, making both of you moan.

Johnny grips your hips tighter, trying to thrust up into you.

“Mm-mm, not yet. Gonna take my time.” You say.

You slide down to the hilt and lean your hands back on his knees and begin to move your hips back and forth in a circling motion slowly.

You look down and see the tops of his thighs peaking out from the skirt and thigh highs and it almost numbs your brain from how fucking hot he looks like this.

“Please- faster- fuck go faster- ride me.” He begs.

You stop your motions and look at him.

“What did I just say? I’m gonna take my time with you.”

He whimpers again and throws his head back as you start your pace again, moaning his name. You continue that until Johnny can’t take it anymore and is a panting, whining, and squirming mess under you.

“Aww ok baby, I’ll fuck you good now.”

You sit up and place both hands at the top of his thighs while you lean in to kiss him. He kisses you back hungrily, as if trying to reassert his dominance, but you pull away just in time, placing your hands over the mesh top on his chest and pushing him back into the couch holding him in place.

You start to bounce up and down on his cock, picking up your pace, and his hands go to squeeze your thighs. His thick length hitting every perfect spot, stretching you out so good and you let out a loud moan.

“God fuck bonnie just like that. Fuck me like that.”

You lean into him, placing your mouth by his ear.

“Yeah you like that hm? You like when I ride you like this?”

“Y- yeah- just like that- you know how to fuck me.”

You continue bouncing on him, admiring the way his chest heaves, stretching the fishnet-like fabric of the croptop he’s wearing, and the way the skirt is up around his hips the way it is when he’s the one fucking you, and how the material of the thigh highs and his thighs are coated in both of your arousal. He looked angelic like this, and you smiled at how perfect he was in this moment.

With his grip moving from its tight hold on your thighs to your hips, he started thrusting up into you, trying to meet you half way desperate for your pussy.

“F- fuck bonnie gonna cum. Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He pants, and you feel your own orgasm approaching quickly as well.

You nuzzle your face into his neck again as you continue to ride his cock like a dildo, using him like a toy.

“Fuck Johnny.” You moan.

“Choke me. Fuck choke me again. Need to cum with your hand around my throat.” He begs desperately, trying to get his demand in before it’s too late.

You bring your hand up and squeeze his thick neck while you place the other on his cheek, turning his head so your foreheads touch again.

“Go on. Cum for me. Show me how good I fuck you.”

And with you cutting off his airway, your tight cunt squeezing and pulsing around his cock, and your words, he spills his cum inside of you.

Johnny cums with a choked, slutty moan, eyes rolled to the back of his head.

You both cum at the same time, his orgasm sending you over the edge as well and you both slow your hips as you sob out your own moans cumming around Johnny’s cock.

You both sit panting, foreheads still touching with the bliss of the moment still in its passing.

“Y’know what?” Johnny says breathless with a smile.

“Hm?” You respond curiously and breathless yourself.

“Maybe we can share the outfit.” He says half jokingly.

And you both chuckle, ending the moment with a kiss full of giggles.

Heyy idk if you've already done it but can I request clothes that the bayverse boys just love seeing you in? Like besides lingerie (though who doesn't like a cute lingerie) I mean like more mundanish things. A certain pair of shorts/pants/skirt, a certain dress or top, a certain color of clothing. Something along those lines, yk?

Maybe it accentuates a certain part of your body, maybe he just thinks it looks cute. Idk. It doesn't necessarily turn him on (although... hehe) He just can't tear his eyes away/stop stealing glances the second he sees it, and you just know he's getting extra flustered if you catch him gawking 🤭

Hey Nonnie! Thank you for sending this in, I had a lot of fun imagining what each one of the turtles would like- I even asked some other writers what their thoughts were because it was such a fun ask!

The ask I sent to another writer - oops forgot to add this so the context makes sense lol

Donatello

DonBon gets flustered whenever he sees you in his color. He’s not partial to a particular way of dress in the grand scheme of things, as long as it’s some shade of purple, you’ve got his attention. But the thing that would really draw him to a complete stop, is glasses. Even if you donned a lens free pair, he’s going to stop and do a double glance, taken by the way the frames bring attention to your eyes. If you coupled the glasses with a purple shirt or an oversized hoodie, he’s going to go out of his way to get his hands on the material, though don’t be fooled, his real goal is studying you. 

Raph

Raphie’s weakness is anything feminine. If it's floofy and a more "girlie" color, he's all on board. While he does love seeing you in his color, the one time you managed to get him to walk head first into a door because he wasn’t paying attention was while wearing a pastel skirt with a petticoat underneath. He likes the way the fabric swishes when you walk, likes how he gets a peek at thighs and calves when you move. He’s an absolute sucker for embroidered patterns and soft fabrics that give him an excuse to study the way your clothes drape and fall on your figure.

Mikey

Angelo likes your comfy clothes. He loves matching PJ sets and lounge wear, the kind that lets him catch a glimpse of your stomach when you raise your hands up over your head, whose sleeves you have to either constantly push up or the tanks that leave your shoulders bare. He’s going to get possessive if it’s any shade of orange, but he’s not too picky. If it’s your favorite, it’s his favorite by proxy, and he revels in the fact that you’re feeling good enough to be comfortable around him. Bonus points if he gets to feel how soft and well worn the fabric is during cuddling.

Leo

Blue likes it when you dress up, likes silk and velvet and tactile fabric that clings to you, loves it when you wear dresses and blouses. If it’s his color, from the darkest navy to a light robin’s egg blue, he’s going to make it a point to inform you how beautiful you look, going to use the praise as cover to rest his hand low on your back. If you’ve dressed up especially for him, he’s not going to even try and hide the way he’s got his eyes on you. Splinter finds it amusing that even his voice can’t shake his eldest out of his thoughts when his attention is centered on you.

All Four

Alright, listen, this Is probably the part that’s a little more risqué than the rest of these, but those that know, will understand what I’m talking about. 

There’s a certain type of nightgown, modest in itself, that usually has a scoop collar and hits somewhere around the mid thigh length. It can be a lighter, warm weather fabric that floats around you, or a denser, winter weave that clings more to trap heat. Patterned, or solid color, it doesn’t matter, but everyone that has one of these knows exactly what I’m talking about. There is no faster way to make a man sit up and pay attention, then to wear it, and the turtles are no exception. It’s not sexy, at least not by today’s standards, but there’s just something about it that draws their eyes and will have them following after you.

Director Elvis & Model Bunny

So this comes off of the yet to be released/finished big bunny #3 but essentially, it’s post the flight in #2 and after Elvis has taken her in the morning to his rehearsal just because I thought she'd be very amenable to his suggestion.

you may have deleted it but too late jade, i saw the message, and you got me hooked please never think you're being too demanding I love it - if someone else is writing this too, or if you were gonna use it for yourself then pls god pls i need that too but uh…. i couldn’t resist. So happy birthday @whositmcwhatsit (even though I’m like half hour late) xxxxxxx 

summary: bunny + elvis get up to fun with a camera. 

warnings: 18+, apologies for the use of Priscilla but I swear she’s barely there. Watching a tape of two girls w/o their consent, video recording (with consent), fingering, p in v sex - elvis cums in her. this has not been edited.

wc: miss concise smut strikes again - 4.5k. 

I was imagining (not wearing this suit but still) Elvis from this day in 1974 in case you were wondering.

You sit there primly, for the rest of the rehearsal, ignoring your newfound nakedness under your skirt - unable to draw your eyes off of his wrists, his waist, now you know the story of those innocuous little white bands. Waiting to be dismissed, sent home - although you hope that you might, one day, get another invitation. He finishes, stripping off the weights as he’s laughing and thanking the sound guys - although he's shouting back at one of them as he stalks across the stage to where you’re sat to the side of the front row.

“That interference needs to be cut by tonight, it’s messin’ with my ears, I don’t care if you have to go out and buy a whole new fucking system - just get it done.” Despite his harsh words by the time he’s kneeling in front of you he’s smiling slightly bashfully. His eyes crinkling at the edges as he mutters to you - 

“Don’t know why I keep ‘em around.” He offers you his hand, pulling with his suddenly weightless feeling muscles to yank you up with him. His arm coming around your waist. He stands there, legs spread and solid, holding you to him, brushing your hair off your neck to whisper in your ear. 

“Wanna come back with me, honey? C’mon baby,” He’s pleading with you, entreating you to follow him, babying tone convincing you as if you even needed encouragement. “How - How’d you feel about, I got some things we could watch, we could," He stutters a little, perhaps a little nervous about his next suggestion - you think it's sweet, "we could - I sure would love to tape ya, baby.” You lean back, brow furrowing as your mind runs through what he’s suggesting. 

It’s not something that’s unheard of, especially in the circles you’re running in - hell, half the tapes on Big Bunny were pornographic, but to feature in one yourself? Watch one, with Elvis? It takes a minute for your brain to process. He strokes his hand up your back though and that’s all it takes for you to succumb, nodding desperately. He kisses you as a reward, and you feel yourself melt further, the thought running through the back of your head that you’re not wearing any panties, and god are you about to drip down your thigh? You clench your legs together as he shifts, switching his hand from around your waist to your wrist, pulling you along with him. 

He practically shoves you into the car, his knee jiggling - in nerves or anticipation you can’t be sure. Ironically, he places his hand upon your thigh stilling your own movement while he jostles you with his. His grip is tight, and you can feel the cold of the rings pushing into your bare skin - tiny skirt riding up, in contrast to the burning heat of his fingers. He stares out the window, quiet, for the extent of the drive and none of the boys look surprised to see you accompanying him despite his lack of explanation. You squirm in your seat, unsure why it’s so much more embarrassing for them to know you’re being brought back for sex now than it is on the plane. But you do your best to try to ignore the heavy atmosphere. Elvis leans back, finally facing forward, kicking the seat in front of him when Red gets a bit too loud. The blatant control - the wordless authority he carries with him making your heart beat a little faster in your chest. He finally glances over at you, appraisingly running his eyes from your head to your knees. He smirks as he watches you unable to stay still under his gaze and you’re relieved when finally, finally you’re pulling up into the delivery bay of the hotel - letting him escape into the building without a crowd. He whispers to Marty as he clambers out, a hand held out for you to clutch, before he pulls you with him up to his room. It’s unnerving you - the uncharacteristic silence on the way up and it causes you to shift around anxiously, as much as you can with his tight grip on your hand, but as soon as you’re through the door to his room he’s drawing you closer. 

He presses his lips to your neck, brushing your hair away from it, holding you close. Almost immediately his hand is travelling up your thigh, bunching your skirt at your waist - his large hand span holding it against your skin. Your nakedness, sticky from the morning activities and arousal from the car ride, being slowly exposed. You’re looking up at him, making eye contact through his coloured glasses when he pulls back a little, silently pleading for both more and less, desperate at least for a kiss. His lips are barely a breath away from yours when there’s a knock on the door, and he pulls away. You brush your skirt back down, trying to look slightly put together again as best you can while practically trembling with anticipation. Marty’s pulling a black rolling bag behind him, leaving it in the centre of the room, 

“Thanks man, that’ll - that’ll do just there. I’ll sort it out.” Marty nods, slightly uncomfortably looking, clearly trying to ignore you. 

“Sure thing E, uh, enjoy.” The door shuts with a click as he leaves and Elvis is quick to unload the set-up from within. You awkwardly hang around, hands rubbing at your arms as you wait for him to be done; 

“S’ok baby, why don’t you get comf- oh, actually, how’s about you - no, no, hang on a second baby - Jerry’ll be knocking any minute now with some things for you.” He gestures to the bed from where he’s bent attaching cords and wires to the little television set, “Why don’t you get comfy in the mean time.” You frown, a little confused as to what you need Jerry to bring you but you don’t question him, following his directive to sit down, perching a little tentatively on the bed. It’s mere moments before he stands, glancing over the set-up with his hands on his hips, nodding, pleased with himself. He’s starting to pull out what looks an awful lot like a tripod - you don't know why you're surprised that he would have the full professional kit - when the door goes again. He nods at you, asking, “Could you get that honey?” You’re already up and heading towards the door before he finishes his question - hopeful it was Jerry and anxious to see what he’d brought with him. It was, and you smile at him as you open the door - he’s always polite to you, 

“Hi, uh, here.” He thrusts a shopping bag into your arms, and you take it with some surprise, 

“Oh - uh, thank you, wha-“ He cuts you off before you can ask what it was, leaning around you in the doorway to speak to Elvis, 

“I’ll be next door - some of the boys are going out, so if you need anything else you’ll have to talk to me.” He pauses, “Remember, we’ve got a show tonight although it’s a late one so,” He glances at the clock, Elvis not even looking up from where he was continuing to pull out and twist screws on each of the legs of what was certainly a tripod. “So, someone will be coming by in uh-about four hours - around 5 so you can start getting ready.” Elvis looks up at that, 

“You think I don’t know my own damn schedule?” Jerry looks slightly taken aback, and quickly attempts to backtrack as Elvis stands up, 

“No - no, I was just, it just normally takes a while to get uh all of this, just, just making sure, uh, bunny, here knows we’re on a tight schedule today was all Boss, of course you know.” Elvis has made his way over to the door, and as Jerry is finishing his attempt at a defense, he’s got a hand grasping the door, bracketing you with his arm, staring him down. It makes you shift a little nervously at the tension, clutching the gift bag, you trip a little as you shuffle your feet and fall into Elvis, who grunts slightly as he takes your weight leaning on him but continues to stare down Jerry. 

“Sorry - sorry E, I wasn’t, I wasn’t trying to suggest anything -“ Elvis lets go of the door, 

“I’ll see you at 5.” Shutting it practically straight into Jerry’s face. Elvis turns to you, his face unimpressed. You worry it’s going to put a damper on the afternoon, and he tuts at you as he looks you over, eyes cloudy through his glasses, lips pressed into a line. You don’t know what to say for the best, unused to his sudden changes in temper. But he solves the problem for you, running his hand through his hair and jabbing a finger into the bag.

“Now, why don’t you run along and put that on for me. Getcha lookin’ all nice and pretty and then we’ll have some fun.” He directs you into the bathroom, his stomach resting on your back as he manhandles you to face the right way. You head into the bathroom, slightly taken aback by the sheer volume of products already lined up on the counter; having clearly been deposited with his luggage whilst at the rehearsal.    You settle the bag on the toilet seat, for lack of other space, rifling through the layers of tissue paper. There’s a smaller bag from a drugstore inside - you laugh as you unload it, realising that it looks like a man desperately raided the Revlon counter, and that that was almost definitely what happened. But still, theres an eyeliner and shadow and a lipstick that almost perfectly matches the one you were wearing earlier. You set them to one side, and delve a little lower finding a little pile of underwear. You pull it out, unfolding them across the counter. You look back into the bag, checking there wasn’t anything else, surprised that this would be the lingerie of choice. A simple white set, practically plain cotton - just a little lace band around the waist, and cups. You nibble your lip, worrying for a second that it’s a joke in some ways or that in this form and situation you’re not going to seem as attractive - when he could have his pick of literally everyone on the ground versus his limited choices in the air. But you knock that thought out of your head, muttering to yourself, don’t be ridiculous, you’re attractive, he wants you, he wouldn’t have asked you here if he didn’t. 

You dress yourself, wondering how on earth they knew your exact size, and freshen up with the provided make-up. You check yourself out after finishing your eyeliner, giving yourself a final little pep-talk, before throwing your dress back on. You consider your shoes, before remembering how much he’d liked your feet before, and leave them in the bathroom - heading back out to him. 

You pad out of the bathroom, toes digging into the carpet. Elvis is sat against the headboard, legs out and spread, tiparillo in his mouth, shirt unbuttoned so low that it’s practically entirely open - his chest and stomach peeking out. He’s watching something on the screen, although he looks over at you as you walk over, smiling approvingly at your bare feet. 

“Why’d you cover up, baby?” You look down at yourself, shifting from foot to foot, 

“I, I uh didn’t -“ He pulls the slim cigar from his mouth, 

“Go on bunny, take it off little ‘un,” You finger the hem, until he encourages you again, “Do it, baby.” You pull up the dress and he groans as you reveal the underwear set, trying to be a little bit sexy as you do, throwing your dress over a chair in the corner. “Oh lord baby, now c’mere.” He pats the bed next to him, eyes moving back to the screen. You settle next to him, flushing as his arm wraps around you, pulling you to press against his side and thigh. 

“What are you - is that?” You were trying to play coy at first, pretending you didn’t know that he was watching a home movie, but you hadn’t expected to see, her. He’s put on a tape of his ex-wife - you blink, you’re watching Priscilla, the mother of his child, roll around on a bed with another girl. It’s not as risque as it could be - they’re both, technically dressed. Although, in a very similar set of bra and panties that you were wearing - both of them in a little white set. But then it suddenly becomes significantly more explicit, Priscilla’s manicured finger running across the other’s covered mound. 

“Yeah bunny, yeah it is - just, just sit and watch baby, gonna make a little film of our own later.” Your mouth opens of its own accord, wondering if this was how Elvis felt earlier, watching you and Maggie make-out. Priscilla and the unnamed girl are now wrestling on the bed, hair flying and the camera zooms in. “See, bunny, the focus now, isn’t on the action - I’ve changed the composition of the frame, just with the camera movement.” You nod in agreement, but honestly, you couldn’t hugely tell the difference other than the fact that you were seeing everything closer up now. 

“So, are you - is it you filming?” You lean harder onto him as he grips you close, pulling your legs over his, rubbing his hand up your thigh. 

“Yeah baby, I - uh, I don’t needta see myself though, I’m just outta shot.” You nod, that makes sense - while you couldn’t imagine Priscilla would be pleased that other girls were watching this her image wasn’t as necessary to protect as Elvis’ and you can’t imagine how dramatic it would be if a video with him in was accidentally left somewhere or lost. You shift, it seems that the last night and day has been awakening all sorts of feelings that you didn’t know you had, arousal growing as you continue to focus on the girls on the screen. The film seems to be coming to a close, Priscilla disappearing from the shot and Elvis’ cigarillo is done with, tapping it out on an ashtray on the bedside table. He uses his newfound free hand to curl it around your bare stomach, and you can’t help the way your muscles tense in response to the feel of him.

On the screen the other girl is now nude and you can’t help but compare her body to yours, assessing how her nipples pebble and tighten against her chest. You watch her trail her hand down her tummy to her clearly slick folds, curly hairs glistening a little in the strangely bright lighting of the film. Your breath hitches as you watch her sink a finger into herself and Elvis chuckles a little at your reaction, his finger tucking into the leg of your panties. Your heart is starting to pound with the anticipation of it all, his long finger just barely brushing over you inner thigh. He pulls you onto him a bit further, tucking his head into your neck. His pouty little lips are kissing the side of your neck, just below your ears and as he moves down to your shoulder you squirm, his sideburns tickling you as goosebumps start to form on your skin. The film cuts out then, just as he starts to suck down on your collarbone, and you lean against him harder as he leaves a perfect purple bruise. You moan, eyes falling closed but then he pulls away, almost a moment too soon. Pushing your legs off of him, and rolling you to be sat by yourself on the bed, he stands. He leaves you there, bereft of his touch, as he busies himself setting up the camera on the tripod, and turning some music on. 

“Ok darlin’, there’s no audio baby, so don’t you go gettin’ all embarrassed about those little bunny squeaks.” You suddenly realise what he means - that you’re going to be the sole person in the film. 

“Uh, ok - El, have I - you’re gonna tell me what to do though? Right?” He laughs, 

“Of course honey, I’m directin’.” He situates himself in a chair, just behind the camera, lighting a full-size cigar he’d pulled out from a little silver case. He’s almost too attractive like this, shirt open, trousers tight on his thighs. His hair is soft, falling onto his forehead when he doesn’t push it back and his face, despite its growing soft edges, is focussed on watching you. You squirm, as he presses the button to start the recording. 

“Right bunny, sink on down now, that’s it.” He adjusts the angle on the camera to better catch you from above. “That’s it baby, no - no actually, actually, kneel up for me bunny.” You do as he directs - this, you can do. Pushing your chest forward and spreading your knees. You lean up, rolling your hips a little to the beat of the song playing. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s it.” He puffs the cigar, his own legs spreading, you swallow, the outline of his cock gently hardening becoming more and more obvious to you. “That’s it baby, go on - move onto your hands and knees now, look at the camera.” You follow his directives, trying to lower yourself down as seductively as possible. You look up at the camera, knowing it’s getting both the perfect shot of your face - a perfect recreation of how you would look looking up at him on your knees between his thighs, as well as a perfect shot of your cleavage where it’s spilling out of the soft little bra. 

“That’s it baby, lie down.” You lower yourself down, ass up, unable to stop yourself grinding against a roll in the comforter underneath you. Elvis laughs, rolling his sleeves up, exposing his slim wrists, diamond encrusted Elvis bracelet jangling with the movement as he rubs himself over his trousers. “Roll over now baby, you can touch your little tits - but not, don’t touch that wet yittle cunt yet.” Your hips jerk, and your breath catches, 

“Oh, oh god, Elvis - that’s, that’s - have I really gotta wait?” He chuckles at you, 

“Yeah baby, go on now, roll over.” You do as he says, “That’s it baby, doing so well for me, that’s it now, suck those little fingers baby and You can touch.” 

“Touch my- my, pussy?” He shakes his head, 

“No bunny," He tuts, as if you're a child not listening to his instructions, "You’re not ready for that yet, touch those little nipples first.” You follow his instructions, wetting your fingers before bringing them down to circle your nipples, the fabric of the bra starting to go see through with your saliva. “That’s it baby, just like I did it earlier, pinch them a little, just a little bit.” You do and you can’t prevent your hips from wiggling, surprised at how much it’s turning you on. You’re starting to feel your pooling wetness dampening your panties. 

“Please, please let me touch,” He hums, 

“Not yet, yittle, not yet, go on now, down your stomach,” You trail your hand down, “Hold it there baby, just, just look at me.” You look over at him, “Hands on your thighs, just barely touch yourself honey, watch me.” He’s pulling his cock out now, ringed fingers grasping the chubby thing. You’re forced to watch as he jerks himself off, clearly well-practiced in the motions, his head falling back in pleasure, sweat starting to form in the hollow of his neck, bracelet jangling and necklace bouncing on his lightly haired chest with his movements. You would never admit it but you’re forced to swallow as drool starts to form in your mouth, your hands clenching on your inner thighs, trying desperately not to touch as you watch him. He rolls his head forward again, making eye contact with you as his hips jump from him brushing a thumb over his tip, a high-pitched moan escaping his lips. You can’t help it but respond in kind. 

“Go on then bunny - you can touch, but just, over those little panties for now - let the camera pick up that little wet spot, that’s it baby - that’s the angle, perfect. Lord, Jesus Christ, ain’t that a picture.” Your hand finally moves across to touch yourself properly, and you get a flashback to the way Maggie touched you last night, you try to copy her movements. Rubbing your clit over the fabric, your hips circling, before running your finger down, pressing the damp fabric into you a little bit. You moan, watching Elvis pull his hand away from himself, as if pulling himself back from the brink. 

“I can’t - please, please let me take them off,” He makes a considering humming noise before finally, finally, he agrees, 

“Strip them little white panties then doll, get ‘em off and throw them over here.” You do as he requests, and though you’re not wholly unsurprised you’re still slightly taken aback when he sniffs them before pressing the wet spot to his cock, using your slick as lube to move the fabric up and down on himself. Your fingers nudge against your folds, spreading yourself to allow for a finger to sink in. It meets little resistance; your vagina having had more of a work-out the past few days than it had in years. Your entrance is still a little sore, but you’re so wet and slippy that this is barely noticeable to you now in the moment, just adding a little edge to the feel of the second finger joining your first. You curl them, trying to hit the right spot inside you,  while your thumb circles your clit again. Your head presses against the bed as your eyes roll in pleasure, glad that there wasn’t any audio being recorded as your noises get louder and louder - more and more explicit. 

Suddenly, with your eyes closed you hear the click of the camera turning off and then you feel him, kneeling onto the bed, over the top of you. He pushes your hand out of the way, pulling your fingers out from yourself.  He’s grasping your hip with one hand, as his other tugs on himself once, twice, before moving his hand to spread your labia with two fingers, stroking down you with a third. He pushes one into you, his skin-warmed ring knocking against you. It’s so much thicker than your own, and he mouths at your neck, moving down to your breast, pulling on a nipple with his teeth as he sinks a second into you. You gasp as he crooks them in just the right way, your hips circling - you’re so close that you’re shuddering to completion as soon as he brushes a finger over your clit. The external stimulation mixed with the internal enough to send you over the edge. Your whole body tenses, stomach undulating as your toes curl and you tremble, moaning into his mouth as he kisses you - filthily, practically devouring you, his tongue forced into your mouth swallowing your noises.

Your lips are bitten raw by the time he pulls away, and you lie there, shakily taking a breath but it’s not long before he’s pulling you back to him, rolling you onto your front again. Your roughened nipples rub against the comforter as he pulls you back, pulling your hips up to meet his. He manhandles you into the perfect position for him to enter you from behind, sinking in to the hilt in one long stroke. You’re more than ready for him, if you hadn’t been before then your orgasm had certainly lubricated the way and you grunt into the sheets as he grips your hips and fucks into you. You don’t expect the force of his thrusts, the power from that famous pelvis, you know how little sleep he’s had the past couple of days. But still, he’s a solid form behind you, thick and sturdy. His stomach knocking against you as he drives into you with force. 

“That’s it - my sweet -  little - bunny, take it. Take - it.” He leans back slightly, his hand coming down to lightly stroke around your stretched hole, feeling the tightness in the skin right around the entrance, and the looseness that surrounds. Your mouth falls open in surprise, the touch unexpected, noise catching in your throat at the feeling. You can feel the sweat dripping off of him now, its cooling dampness making your bodies slide against each other. He pulls his hand back, spanking your ass, causing you to shudder against him, the tinge of pain mixed with the pleasure, and it causes him to rock perfectly against just the right spot in your walls. Getting in deep enough that you can feel his hips against yours and you can no longer work out where you end and he begins. You can feel yourself getting to the edge again and his hand slips further up, as if a reminder that it’s Elvis behind you can feel that bracelet rubbing against you, and his huge TCB ring catching on your skin, and he brushes his fingers over your clit, capturing it in his fingers. A moment later you’re shaking as a second orgasm crashes over you. You’re relieved he’d put you in this position, your arms giving out on you, only being held up by his hands on your hips, as you’d have simply collapsed had you been held in any other way. He chases his own completion, praising you the whole time that he fucks into you, 

“Yes - that’s it, god, lord, yes bunny, go for me again, that’s a good girl, such a good yittle girl. Gonna turn that camera back on - get a good look at you like this. Yeah baby. Gonna turn it back on.” You can feel his release inside of you as you hear his high-pitched whimper. He presses into you, placing a kiss on the back of your shoulder, before he pulls out, rushing to turn the camera back on. You can hear the whirr of the zoom as he focusses it onto his seed dripping out of you. It matches the feel of your trembling skin, and you hold still, letting him capture the shot. You hear the click again a moment later, and you relax onto the bed, collapsing on your front. You’re sure you’ll be lying in a wet spot but you find it hard to care. He pats your shoulder, 

“Gonna have something new to watch for the next flight huh?” 

BSD Genderswap universe hc for the Port Mafia

- The organisations are really tight Knitted; the PM goes to rave once a year in order to relax. Here’s how it usually goes:

Chuuya would force Akutagawa to dress up for the party.

Their outfits:

- Akutagawa would wear a blank singlet, black frilly skirt, tights and B&W stripped detached sleeves. (imagine misa from death note) She feels utterly embarassed and cold most of the time

- Chuuya probably wears a skimpy top that’s self tied. She has a ton of faith on the top that it wouldn’t fall off. I imagine her with a large cowboy hat and her hair is let down (I think she has long hair down to her butt but in her normal PM outfit, her hair is styled in front of her chest like male Chuuya and it somehow looks shorter)

- Kōyō wore a black turtle neck and black pants. Classic man. He doesn’t party but he watches over the younger ones

- Higuchi wears a red ripped sleeveless crop top, black ripped jeans and tons of metal chains/accessories. He has a black lip and earrings. He still wears his normal sunglasses on his head and his fringe is pulled back

- Gin wears a black T shirt and ripped blue jeans. Super casual. (At the end of the night, a drunk Higuchi would be clinging onto Gin and tearing off his shirt sleeves and shouting at him to take risks)

- Tachihara wears a tight sleeveless crop top and baggy jeans. She also has glow in the dark bracelets for some reasons. Her hair is in those bubble ponytails but they would come undone by the end of the night. Tachihara, Gin and Higuchi did each other nails. Tachihara has green nails, Gin has blue nails and a higuchi has red nails.

The 6 of them would attend a festival with a myriad of stalls then party and drink all night. They would end their night with a dance party where they rent a studio with a dance machine. Chuuya and Higuchi were monsters on the dancefloor. Rumour has it, that the duo who holds the dance high score were two VERY well known mafia women (ahem fem skk) and ever since Dazai left, Chuuya has never been able to find an adequate partner. Higuchi was the best choice.

Every member will get the spotlight at least once to show off their moves and pick a song:

Deli by Ice Spice (he drunkenly chose this and went with it) : Higuchi can somehow breakdance and spin on his head

Sexy Naughty Bitchy Me by Tata Young : Chuuya twirls in the air like a helicopter and bends her body like a straw. Bonus, she dances so sensually that Kōyō had to pry her off the dance floor before she starts stripping

I’m sexy and I know it (Tachihara found the song funny) : Tachihara just screams instead of dancing properly because she’s drunk

Some random upbeat song : Gin does some simple subtle swaying and moves

Smooth Criminal by Michael Jackson : Akutagawa cannot dance. She usually escapes this portion but this year, she HAS to do a dance and she felt like breaking down as all eyes were on her. But then, she remembered that she learnt something from that stupid weretiger.

Yes, that idiotic selfish weretiger taught her something.

The art of shuffling.

Atsushi cannot dance but she’s a pretty good shuffler and the shuffler bug infected Akutagawa. She was naturally amazing at shuffling which shocked all of them

They would pass out for the rest of the morning until Mori finds them and wakes them up. Sometimes before Chuuya passes out, she’ll drunk dial Dazai to buy her Starbucks in the morning. Dazai always remembers her order.

Dazai did join the PM rave parties. In fact, she was the lone high scorer for any individual dances. As an executive and one of—if not is—the most revered woman in the mafia, she has loads of niche skills to impress her targets. One of it, was her dancing. She can learn the rhythm and dance of any tune in one siting and her hand leg coordination is skilful.

The next morning, all of them showed up with black sunglasses and mismatched socks.

Lmk if y’all want me to draw their rave outfits hehe🤫

You didn’t ask me…

Pairing: Jackson Marchettie x black female reader

Warnings: Smut. (18+) Dirty talk, Angst, praise kink.

The plot: You go to a party to get over Jackson but you didn’t know it would be at his house….

Hey y’all long time no see😊 here’s a imagine for y’all I know it’s random but I was inspired this morning to write it.

Now y’all…This one is nasty

Oh my god, you know what's terrible? Have a callus test I didn’t study for said Aimee as she yelled at me with her breath, wreaking off whatever concoction was in the punch. “Right, well, I’m pretty sure you meant calculus, and don’t worry, Mr. Brown, postpone it till Monday,” I said, yelling over the loud music. Mave and Aimee said I have been more distant than usual. This is true between studying, my job after school and trying to forget about him…I’ve been occupied. So they decided to drag me out on a school night to a party, and they also decided to dress me and this dress, oh don’t get me started on the dress. OH Y/N, Mave says, running over giggly, “that guy over there keeps looking at you, and I overheard him say something about you, the dress being well fit.”

Even though those are words every teenager would love to hear at a party, not me, I was forced to come here and listen to music. I’m not particularly eager to tolerate people wreaking liquor, weed, and body fluid poring through their pores. “Lucky me,” I responded cheaply. “You know you got to get out of this rut. I understand you and- before Mave could finish the sentence, I cut her off. “Look, I told you I didn’t wanna come tonight, I told you I wasn’t ready, and the fact that I went to this party knowing it was going to be in his house makes me, even more, the bitter, okay” I said with a snappy and tight voice. Mave looked at me with sadness in her eyes “oh y/n we didn’t even think about that” she said looking at Aimee for a confirmation. “It’s fine, speaking of Calculus,” I told Aimee. “I need to go get something.”

As I make my way upstairs, away from all the drunk bodies and loud music, I feel a calming sensation run over me. I know exactly where I’m going. I’ve been here enough time to know which room is his. “Once u get upstairs, it's the second door down to your right,” was the instructions now engraved in my head. As I approached the door, I expected a lot of things. I expect him to be on the other side cause I haven’t seen him at his party. I expect to go in there and cry from memories that serve my heart no purpose. I also expect the door to be locked cause it is a party happening. But no, as I opened the door, I saw his room in typical shape, not too clean but also not too dirty signifies that someone is living there and using this room. The space was empty, so I decided to be quick about what I would do.

Walking over to his backpack, I picked up his bag, and Doug through it, looking for my Calculus book. I found it in my red notebook with the word I hate math written on top. And his drawing of a smiley face. I let him borrow the notebook two weeks before we split. Now I’m regretting it cause I have to cram and study for a test cause I haven’t asked for the notebook back. As soon as I turned to leave, I heard, “You know you just could’ve asked me, right.” This made me freeze. “I just needed my book to study, and I have nothing to say to you,” I said, trying to walk past him and avoid eye contact. “Nice dress. It’s not your vibe, though, is it?” He said, leaning against the doorway with a calm voice. I wore a long fitted dress that stopped at my ankles, with lace in it, and a slit that stopped mid-thigh. I will admit this dress is charming and did compliment my figure well. It just wasn’t my speed; I preferred sweaters and skirts and loafers. Mave made me wear it, but we comprise, and I put a white short-sleeved top under it.

“Wanted to try something different,” I said, still not looking at him. I feel him staring at me, though, soaking me up for everything that I am. “Y/n can we talk, please,” he said. I snapped my eyes up at him furiously, finally looking him in the face and looking him in the eyes those grayish brown eyes that I’ve looked at a thousand times before. “Talk about what, Jackson,” I say, his name with so much stiffness. I haven’t said his word or looked at him in weeks. When I’m at school, I avoid him and every spot I know he’ll be at.

“We have nothing to talk about. You told me that you needed time for yourself, that you felt like you were moving too fast and didn’t feel well, and how can I be mad at that? At least you were honest, and I understand that the last two years were rough on you, so I get that. So how can I be mad? How? I said words vomiting my feelings, my chest tightening and my voice shaking. I knew it was time to go before I started crying.

“It's okay to be mad at me, y/n” replied. Jackson, “you aren’t perfect, and I’m not perfect, and if this situation were simple, we wouldn’t be arguing right now,” said Jackson. With every word he says, he’s getting closer to me as I stand in the middle of the room, clenching my book for dear life. “I told you I wasn’t ready because I’m not,” he said with a quick breath. “Because when I still have these panic attacks, and I still find myself wanting to be isolated when it all becomes too much, so I’m not ready for someone like you who is strong and patient and willing. It would be wrong of me to ask you to endure that with me,” Jackson said, searching your eyes with his glossed over, hoping you would understand, and you know Jackson better than most. “The problem is you didn’t even ask me,” said y/n knowing that those words were as robust and one of the scariest things she could say. She was saying that she would take on his heartaches, and his burdens, while also being there to support him through his happiness and his celebrations.

Before y/n could even process the emotions she saw on his face, she felt a hand meet the back of her head, and his soft lips touched her. He was kissing her so softly, like he was afraid she would run away from her. But y/n had more to fear at this moment. She knew Jackson felt more scared than ever. Right now Jackson was like Bambi. He felt small and skittish. So y/n grabbed his wrist and kissed him back deeply. The kiss was soft and strategic, and they poured confirmations into each other without saying anything. Before she knew it, y/n panties were on the floor her dress was rising as the back of her knees connected with Jackson's bed. Jackson was now on top of y/n, taking his hands from her knee to her hip and bunging her dress up to her hips.

“Y/n,” Jackson said, nipping at her neck and hearing a moan release from Y/n. “Jackson,” she moaned as she felt everything around her slowly becoming undone. Her dress was now scrunched up on her hips her shirt and bra were somehow removed. “Jackson, Jackson, Jackson”where all that she thought could, which was linger his name as she felt herself come undone like a button. Her core was getting wetter and wetter and was throbbing. Her dress now not covering anything on her body but her waist and her breast exposed to the air in his room. Jackson stood up and undressed himself. At that moment, all y/n could do was admire him. How beautiful and rigid he looked and soft all at the same time. Once fully undressed, y/n grabbed him and pulled him back onto the bed. He spoke No words, but Jackson knew what he wanted to do. He put her on her back and connected his hips to her nipple while teasing her fold with his thumbs. He moved his finger to her clit. He wasted no time running it back and forth. This ignited something in y/n, making her gasp and arch her back while she had one of her hands grabbing his hair and the other one holding the sheets.

“Don’t hold back on me, okay” he said with his voice a little rougher than usual. He starts to finger her, not wasting any time spoiling her and her cunt. Going in and out of her making her body tense up. Y/n could feel herself being invaded, her wetness pooling onto his hands, the stickiness between her thighs. She couldn’t help but moan. Uh, she moaned, grabbing his wrist and making him go deeper she could feel his fingers inside her, his knuckle grazing the outer side and his finger curving to her insides. Oh fuck please she said, her hips tensing up. While her hand held his wrist, helping him with the motion, she enjoyed it so much. Jackson was in awe. He loved seeing her fuck herself by using him. His dick was hard against the bed, but he could wait cause this wasn’t about him right now.

Curving his two fingers just a Lil more, she moved his wrist faster. He felt her jerk. He grazed it, that spot. Before he knew it, he grabbed his wrist with his other hand and pinned it down, and started to go back and forth, hitting that spot. From his view, it was Lovely seeing her cunt swell and her getting wetter and the build-up of her cum on her thighs and it dripping from her. He was in absolute paradise. “Oh fuck please she said, her mouth gapped open, her hips spasming while her legs were wide open for him. As y/n felt herself coming undone again. She felt the feeling building in her core. “Let it go, my love,” Jackson said as he started to suck on your clit while fingering you. Your body was in overdrive now and was sensitive. You jerked at the feeling. “Oh fuck” you said. Jackson held you down with one hand on your lower stomach. You don’t know precisely what it did. You don’t know if it was the fingers, the sucking, or the pressure, but you came. The release left your body, and you were shaking.

As Jackson rose from his position, his chin glistened and his dick hard panting. “Here, let me help you get yourself back together he said, trying to find your bra. Over…this isn’t over. It’s his turn now. You suddenly realize that you are still in his house, and a party is still going on downstairs with over 100 occupied bodies. Even though you were weak, your body was eating the high. You crawled to the edge of the bed and said, turning to grab his dick, causing Jackson to moan, “Y/n wait” Before you could register, you stopped. “Are you sure your body has been through a lot and”-Fuck that You thought, grabbing his dick and licking his head made Jackson's knees buckle.

As you took him in, as far as you could, you started to play with his balls. You noticed that Jackson now had his hands on your shoulder, squeezing them tightly as you sat on the edge of the bed. You look up to see him with his head back, Addams apple Bobbing. Realsing my mouth from his base, I tasted the salty pre-crum swelling at the head. I worked my way down to his balls and licked and teased them as my hand grabbed his base, and my wrist engaged in the motion, causing his body to cleanse and his grip on my should to tighten. This made me giggle. I grabbed his hands and put them on the back of my head. Jackson looked down at me and shook my head. He held his dick and placed it on my lips, waiting for me to open my mouth.

As I opened my mouth, I felt his hand grab the back of my head and push me down slowly. As I look up, he’s looking at me in all my glory, titties out, mouth stuffed, and my lips moving back and forth on his shaft. He let out a strangled moan “shit, y/n, we can’t be up here all night,” he said breathlessly. His statement made me suck harder cause, yes, we can. His eye snapped open, and his hand started moving my head faster. I feel his vein throbbing on my challenging I see his stomach tightening. The saliva and pre cum are all over his dick, glistening. As he moves his hips in my mouth, words and moans fall from his lips. “You make me feel so good, and I’m sorry for- the words were interrupted by a deep and rough moan due to me playing with his balls and sucking harder. I don’t want to hear any sorry I want you to come undone.

His hip where now moving erratically, his hip moving more sloppily now his dick was wet and covered and cum, and the vein that was throbbing on my tongue was now realizing the salty/sweet taste in my mouth and down my throat. His dick left my mouth with a pop. And his body flopped on the bed. He was lying beside me, breathless, tired. I laid back on the bed beside him and looked at the ceiling, and said, “I know you're sorry, but when I said that your pain is my pain as well as your joys and pleasures, I meant that” as I turned to him on the bed looking him in his eyes, his eyes low and his breathing slowed. “ I forgive you,” I said, looking into his eyes, making sure he understood me. “Now,” I said, standing up, fixing my dress, disregarding my undergarments, and placing the dress back on me nicely while checking myself in the mirror and throwing Jackson his underwear. “Let’s get back to the party.”

Hi you can take your time on this one . I’ve been wondering if you could redesign the star dress how would you redesign them ? (Me for an example I would given Lucy cat ears since loke has cat ears. Virgo star dress chains , Taurus more of gladiator look to be honest . Sagittarius dress not my fave outfit but I do adore her/his magic for that one . That’s all I can think of for now lol )

Whew! Thanks so much for this ask. I think I've mentioned them all over the place before, but I've never actually listed them one by one. I shall now be rambling like hell, be prepared. Before I ramble on mine though-- omg. those ideas are good. Loke's dress should definitely add cat ears that would be the cutest thing. Virgo's needs chains! Taurus' for a gladiator look, oh that would be cool.

Disclaimer: I think all the designs are decent enough and I do not actually want to change all of them. But since I've been asked if I could redesign them, I'll be listing ideas for all of them regardless if I like the originals or not. Also note that I’m not really addressing the fact that this is anime and of course some designs aren’t as detailed as they could be to be easier to draw, I’m just rambling, yeah? I’m also not thinking too much about powersets yet. 

Also note that the pictures I add are just visualized ideas because I’m not very good at explaining, not actual references, alright? 

Yeah this is going to be long lmao. Read more! -> 

Alright, going in Zodiac order! 

Aries. Definitely lots of wool. Either a soft sweater with puffed sleeves, or a cute short flowy winter cape. I'd like her dress to feel a bit defensive, so a puffy cape. I'd like to think of fluffy gloves and boots. Aries is a fairly modest character (she was uncomfortable with being asked to service men) so she'd be dressed comfortably, not showing any cleavage. I think a short dress would be cute, but for a battle dress for someone that fights like Lucy, I think Aries would go for comfy shorts like her own jumper-type clothes-- or maybe a skirt that fluffs at the end to complete the winter look? 

Taurus. It's good as it is, perfect for Taurus. But she could also have a leather jacket, or alternatively, a checkered shirt tied like a crop top to complete the cowgirl look. I kind of like the asymmetrical pants, wish the shorter side was a bit longer. But short shorts or full-length ripped jeans would be good too. I love this dress as it is, so not much changes honestly. If I wanted to add anything it’d be more accessories and badges to make it look wild westy. 

Gemini. I like the court jester/magician look a lot! Super unique. I do wish it were cuter as an outfit, though. They emphasise right now on being different colours, rather than asymmetrical. If I could choose, I'd make them clown or carnival-themed, sort of the cute little roadside magician or maybe even court jesters? Makeup, puffy frill sleeves, suspenders, mismatched high-knee patterned socks, toys and rainbows. They'd appear different each time--- sometimes she'll have a cape to hide a Doraemon-variety of things you just need, other times she'd maybe even wear a mascot head! This is the fun and jokester dress, and Lucy would have a hard time chewing them out for messing with her dress design, because 'awww, it'd have been funny!' 'NOT WHEN I'M FIGHTING IT'S NOT!'

Cancer. Love the Chinese vibes as they are, so if I redesign it, it'll be closer to Cancer's personality and image. Honestly, despite (or maybe because of) the first Celestial World Dress we see, I think when things came down to it for battle, Cancer would choose something that’s practical over something flowing and pretty. Nothing casual though, he’ll choose something that looks smart casual at least, something like a work uniform. I like to imagine a waist apron or belt to put small scissors in. In this outfit variety, I’d love for the main weapon to be huge scissors that Lucy has to make swing her body weight around. 

Leo. Hear me out. If Loke could, he would go immediately for a wedding dress. But that aside, Leo’s dress is gorgeous enough as it is-- if I redesign it, I guess it’ll be for practicality? But anyways. Rather than just an evening gown-- I kind of want fur. Not soft, woolen ones like Aries, but fuzzy ones, you know, like the one he wore as Loke. I’d go for a more ‘punk’ image than a royal one to match his Loke phase. I’m thinking high collars lined with fur, long flowy vest but free arms and legs, because Leo is the leader and he’s extra like that. I’d like to think there are lion connotations everywhere, from gold accents to fur-lined skirt ends, cheetah prints, cat ears and a lion’s tail belt. Definitely stilettos, excess rings and accessories to maximise damage-making capability.

Virgo. Virgo doesn’t mind if she does panty flashes, so the maid uniform can stay. Though, definitely add chains, maybe wound around her arm. Since Virgo’s thing is that she’s a blatant cesspool of sexual kinks... well, first, I think I want to mention that Virgo doesn’t care about herself, but she cares about Lucy’s modesty to some degree (she covers Lucy’s skirt in the hgih winds of Eisenwald arc, leaving herself vulnerable). If she decides that Lucy should go more battle-based, first, I want Lucy to have a slightly longer maid dress, maybe slit in the side or have a design to tuck it up for battle so she can look unsuspecting and harmless when not fighting (something Virgo also does is look the part of being ‘undercover’). Lucy should have a variety of things hidden around her garter, from knives, to guns, to her keys. I love the idea of a combat maid, 

Scorpio? I love the practicality of her current one, but Scorpio could also put her In rockstar clothing. Colourful neon cropped jackets, fishnets, plenty of loose accessories, bright-rimmed sand boots. High ponytail, definitely. Does this make sense for sand? No, so if we went on that route-- definitely armoured boots and arm guards, but go for a more flowy look, loose clothing for sand travel. Not too much though, maybe just baggy pants and a sash to keep it together, and a head scarf. 

Sagittarius. The leprechaun/elf thing is super cute, wish it were a bit more unique than just whole thing green though. I’d give her a hooded cape, probably brown, and instead of just sleeves, a full archer’s brace on both arms.  Of course, the open crotch is stupid on the original dress, give Lucy a short skirt that doesn’t show her underwear to the world. At least one more flap that goes over the front, I’m fine with the slits so they can look like tinkerbell. Though, to be unique, I’d like if her hair was down in a low and/or loose ponytail instead, to be under a hood. 

Capricorn. I’d love if he went the businesswoman route, to look like a librarian or secretary. Glasses, horns, braids, all those can stay. Honestly I’m thinking something like a mysterious bookkeeper in a mystical library. I’d think he’d give her a longer dress, and Lucy would look really studious and modest. It’d really make her writer side shine, and that side of her never gets enough shine. I know Capricorn is a combat-type spirit, but Capricorn’s dress should have been more of an intellectual skill dress than a combat one-- maybe in this dress, she can think faster, decipher faster, and wield magic to almost the same level as maybe Jellal or Mystogan who can write high-level magic from scratch. 

Aquarius. I need y’all to know that aquatic swimsuit designs have so much potential to look extravagant and gorgeous. I can’t believe Mashima would keep giving us disservices with swimsuits when there’s so much potential here. Like, why stop at just the swimsuit-- give us ocean-themed accesories like pearls, mermaid-themed styling choices. I’d love a long, billowing shawl around her, not just around the waist but around her as well. Mashima puts Lucy in a lot of twintails for these dresses and they’re cute, but I think a long mermaid-tail braid, or even a waterfall braid would be gorgeous. 

Bonus: Libra. Definitely Arabian dancer clothes. This is one of the few that kind of go without saying. While Scorpio kind of has sand-weather middle-east clothing as well, I think it should primarily be Libra’s thing. Going full out in this aesthetic--- maybe to be modest, head scarves, layered sashes and skirts, and of course, a ton and a ton of shiny, jingling accessories on every limb. 

Bonus: Pisces. Pisces would go with something skintight, maybe competitive swimwear or diving wetsuits. Definitely let’s not have the stupid open chest thing Mom Pisces has, but it’d be cool to see minimal armour pieces implemented into that kind of design, maybe the suit is made with material that feels like scales? I like to imagine this dress has two forms to be unique, since it’s the paired fish.  One for offensive focus, one for defensive focus. Mom would have a long gorgeous dress that looks like water with plenty of layers, mother of the sea and all. Son would have the wetsuit armour. Of course, they’ll wield a trident. To set them apart from Aquarius, they would have fish-themed accessories specifically. 

Bonus: Leo x Virgo. 

I’ll think of these two ways, if Leo is taking the forefront of the concept, or if Virgo is. If Leo is, I think this can go full royal. Go from a maid outfit into practical royal-esque clothing, shorts and cravat, adorned with as many accessories and badges as possible because both Leo and Virgo are into that. To add in Leo’s animal connotations, a huge, royal cape with fur lining the ends, emblazoned with their logos on the back. Style her hair wild and powerful. 

If Virgo’s taking charge, a cat-eared maid, complete with new animal prints, cuter apron, and shorter skirt for close-combat practicality. 

Bonus: Aquarius x Scorpio. 

Alright, here we go. They clash strangely because one of them wears water clothing and the other sand clothing. I’ll be thinking of Scorpio as the ‘sporty variety’, by the way. 

If Aquarius is taking charge, a long shawl-type swimwear would work, with a high slit. I want to give her a long scorpion tail, but of course, a thin one that can look elegant, not the clunky armour in canon. I’d love if this gave her a bit of devilish connotations, and Aquarius would go on to look a little evil with dark, evil antagonist sort of vibe. I’m thinking of a ‘little devil’ vibe because Scorpio’s got the ‘punk rock’ thing going on, so if she doesn’t let out her infamous violent streak here, when? 

And yes, all swimsuit material. Because swimsuits are versatile. 

I think Scorpio would look for a bit more practicality, so competitive swimwear to emphasize the thighs. Since he wants to emphasize armour so much, let’s see how that can work. As seen here, Azur Lane knows the balance between clunky metal and minimal fabric. So the main problem of the canon AxS dress is the metal parts are way too big and impractical. Give Lucy a smaller tail. Ditch the gauntlets and boots, or at make them much less clunky, leading in to high stockings and sleeve gloves. Honestly, we don’t need the tail for her-- make it a whip sword. Give Lucy a huge clunky sword that can extend like Renji Abarai’s sword, shaped like Scorpio’s tail. 

Bonus: Aquarius x Gemini. 

If Aquarius’s taking charge, it’ll be a mermaid tail dress, alternatively layered with blue and white. Definitely needs a train, frilled like waves behind her. I’m thinking a kind of cartoon queen dress, the kind with really high collars that frame around the head? I think snow white had a bit of it? The original gemini dress has it too. That, plus something like the headdress part too, all patterned and adorned to give the Gemini court jester look. 

If Gemini’s taking charge, then I’m thinking a cuter direction-- a balloon skirt, the type that are round and puffy like a tutu or something with frills around the edges? Not sure if you understand what I mean, but balloon shorts is fine, point is, with string adornments it could look like a jellyfish. There are swimsuits in this sort of design, too, so it also fits with Aquarius! Maybe if we wanna go for sexy, complete this design with a tube top + a bit of a frill choker in Gemini colours.

Bonus: Etc ideas. These are a bit messy.

Gemini with anyone else-- starting with Cancer, they’ll go on the magic Kaito route with the stage magician look, suit and tailcoat, top hat, etc. Of course keep the split-colour theming. For Aries, definitely put her right into a mascot costume. I would think mixing with Virgo would give us a strange butler-maid mix, maybe even literally split down the middle. For Sagittarius, go full on with the leprechaun theme, shorts and suits and hat and toe boots and all. 

For Capricorn, Lucy should transition from modest librarian to sexy librarian. Yes, I just said that. Gemini would piss Capricorn off and that’s the point, I want to see it. It would be the funniest damn thing because Lucy would love it while Capricorn loses his mind about immodesty. I like to imagine it happening and Capricorn just freezing in the middle of battle to go “GEMINI, WHAT DID I SAY.” Jokes aside, a warlock coat or something in a dracula direction would be incredibly cool as well.  

Also, Gemini and Pisces would be interesting. I’m thinking a stuntman-type concept, but that’s about it for what I can think of now. 

I think Scorpio on a delinquent route would mesh amazingly with Aries-- a fun, comfortable casual fit, with woolen hoodies, sweater sleeves, fun, pastel frills, loose socks and sneakers, something right out of instagram outfit aesthetics. Leo would add animal designs on it. Taurus would have so much fun with this clothing theme, especially if we ignore practicality. Cancer and Scorpio can go in a marching band direction. 

Scorpio would probably fit amazingly with Libra, because they’re both middle-eastern inspirations, design-wise. I’m thinking a ‘wandering Egyptian bard’ sort of look, traveller’s cloaks, sashes. But I think I’ll use the ‘rockstar’ theme for the others because it’ll clash too much with Libra. 

I’d like to think Aries is most concerned about looking comfortable over genuine practicality. Anything she gives would look like something people would actually wear on the daily, because Aries is modest and comfy and cute and she’s very concerned about that above all else. 

I’m thinking for an Aquarius mix, she would go for a one-piece dress type swimsuit, with frills instead of wool since that won’t mix well with water. There’s be plenty of sheep designs, though, layers of frills to look fluffy enough. For Capricorn, an old-fashioned peasant dress. I think it’d be cute if Cancer mixes and just straight up turns Lucy into an actual magical girl design. For Virgo who’s in charge of royal connotations today, I’m thinking a unicorn princess vibe. 

Generally, I’d think putting Leo with anyone would give them animal features. Scorpio? Ah, add some cute cat ears on that hoodie, please. For Aries, I think ditch the royal connotations and go straight up animal costume. Fluffy woolen dresses, mittens, boots, cat ears, and of course, comfy shorts so Lucy can go full animal. Cancer or Taurus? Ah, get ready for one sexy cat...

Libra? Oh dear, this needs to be sexy, put some animal prints and fur on all of that, please. Definitely mix the ‘sexy’ aspect of Libra with the punk side of Leo-- that means animals stripes! Loke wears tiger stripes sometimes on his tie, so it’s fair. Cheetah prints, etc, those things would be cute. Definitely something easy to move in like dancer clothing, but more practical eg less sashes, more fur. But definitely tons of accessories for the same reason as the Leo clothes. 

Aquarius with anyone shouldn’t immediately go to swimsuits, it should go to ‘sea connotations’ in general. Sea accessories and wave-like frills, swimsuit fabrics, bikini tops or swimsuits hidden underneath more practical clothing, etc. For a Cancer mix, marine navy uniforms. I think Leo would add a formal captain’s coat, but Virgo would go with a corset and petticoat. 

For those that remain swimsuits, they could add their own flair to it, Sagittarius could make it more fairy-like, water spirits or jellyfish-like (I’m making his thing the ‘fantasy archetypes’). I think Capricorn will give Lucy a long, formal mermaid hem dress, complete with a boa. 

But okay, I have one thing I’m very firm on: Aquarius and Taurus? It needs to be a pirate-themed swimsuit, complete with the hat. IT HAS TO BE, okay? It’s a perfect mix of concepts. Sea bandits, land pirates, cowboys, it just works. 

I like to think Cancer turns everyone into a uniform of some sort. I just think it’d be a cute theme to have since he’s always in smart casual. For Virgo, I’d think he’d go the boyish route, with a sort of young prince’s formal clothing, coat and double-breasted and all. Capricorn, I think it would be interesting to go for a mage priest-type costume. For Taurus, definitely full on cheerleader. I definitely want to make a point that her hair needs to be absolutely gorgeous in all of these. 

For Sagittarius-Cancer specifically, hear me out... equestrian clothing. 

I’d like to think Taurus adds a country vibe to most things. For things he can’t country like the royal suits or Scorpio’s modern fits, he’ll find a way to double up the sexy instead, like off-shouldering maid dresses for Virgo. He’d also make a sexy librarian dress for Capricorn to piss him off, though I think he won’t change it even if Capricorn complains, unlike Gemini. 

He’d clash strangely with Aries, but I think they’ll find a compromise on the little red riding hood route. 

I want Virgo to hold most of the royal connotations, honestly, just to set her apart from the others that are also in formal-looking suits. A mix with Libra could make something like an Arabian queen. 

But specifically, I think Virgo and Capricorn will give Lucy a formal, noble lady’s dress. Something befitting of a fairy tale princess. 

To set Sagittarius apart, I want him to have all kinds of fantasy elements in his dresses, not just elves. With Virgo, he’ll make a rogue hunter. With Leo, a cute werewolf (lion?).  Aries can have full control of this one, a simple black dress with plenty of wool at the ends and the collar, maybe even give Lucy actual horns and style her hair into curls. Of course, all of them will definitely have bows and arrows in some form or another, eg Taurus would be a wild west gunslinger with crossbows? Oh and, magical girl phase #2 with Sagittarius and Cancer, without wool though. 

And Gemini would be just a straight up flamboyant clown, high-collar cloak, two-toned masquerade mask, top hat. Speaking of masquerade, a Capricorn mix could be a full on masquerade theme, evening gown and all. 

Alright, I’m exhausted, I had way too much fun with these.

If anyone read this far, thank you! 

To summarize.

Aries would turn everything wooly, pastel, fluffy, and comfortable. 

Taurus would dial up the sexy x2, or he would give things country, old fashioned- kinda vibes including cowboys, pirates, country girl/farmer/peasant, etc. 

Gemini would take everything in a magician or amusement park clown direction, including magical girls, court jesters, pierrots, masquerades. 

Cancer would turn everything into a uniform of some sort. (Work uniforms, not school uniforms). His theme would be looking professional. 

Leo turns everything in wild, delinquent, and animalistic theming, with a bit of an authoritative ‘leader of the bad boys’ vibe.

Virgo holds all of the royal connotations, from maids to knights, to princesses. 

Scorpio takes a punk, rockstar direction. Musical vibes would be his thing, from fantasy bards to marching bands to opera singers. 

Sagittarius would have all of the fantasy connotations. Starting with elves and leprechauns, to RPG roles like hunter, werewolf, fairies. 

Capricorn would have modesty as his main focus, ‘pride of a noble’ and all. He would focus on making Lucy look fit for an audience with the king, responsible and well-kempt at all times. This is different from Cancer in that Lucy would be the served instead of the one serving, and differs from Virgo in that it doesn’t go as far as ‘royal’. Just noble, beautiful, and proud as a Heartfilia. He’s a bit old-fashioned, too. 

Aquarius would be the sea, of course. Swimsuits, and everything of a marine connotation including navy uniforms, pirates, and mermaid hem dresses. 

Libra would take everything in a middle-eastern inspiration, Arabian kinda. 

Pisces would be marine connotations as well, but they’ll take it in a specifically leotard-armour inspiration, kinda like most mecha anime girls.

Make out Sessions with SF9 - Hard Ver.

As per multiple requests 👀. Hope y'all like it!

Warnings: Suggestive. Smut. Female anatomy. Sloppy kissing. Just go with it 😂. Choking. Youngbin's is highly inspired by Hannah 🤭. Extremely inaccurate description of wine? Cause I've never consumed any lmao. Sensual touching? Humping? Size kink for Ju? Strength kink for Seokwoo? Tbh idk what I'm doing lol

Everything under the cut!

Youngbin

You're both in the balcony, sipping on wine after a long tiring day, awaiting the weekend

Maybe it's the wine or the fact that you both are absolutely free for a whole day tomorrow, but something is just pulling you closer to him

And just like that, you straddle his thick thighs in the chair he's seated on 👀

Gulping you bite your lip, before leaning in to taste his

Of course due to the wine, his lips and tongue and saliva all taste like alcohol and his own flavour

He will pull you closer till your legs are bent at your knees and are resting against his sides comfortably and your heat is touching his crotch

He's also gonna be really loud, moaning into each kiss, breaking only to kiss your neck or jaw with closed eyes

His hands are sensually touching your back and breasts, just feeling you up and making your whine for more

Easily carries you to the bedroom for a night full of expected unexpected events

Inseong

Baby boy is so shocked when you kiss him with a lot of fervour

Takes a few seconds to realize what's happening lmao

But when he does, he will flush his chest against yours

Hands start to wander along the length of your back

And everytime he reaches the end of your back, he goes lower till he's able to cup your butt

Now you're shocked 😝

All this, while still kissing you senseless

His lips moulding with yours

Moans coming out from the both of you

Teeth pulling at your lips

Teeth clinking together

His tongue asking for permission to enter your mouth

When you give him the green light, gosh he will be ready to fuck you on the floor 🤭

Jaeyoon

Oh this one definitely tries to convert every innocent little kiss to a make out whenever you both are alone

And he knows you will give into his charm because he's cocky and we love to see it

It's instances when he's sitting on a chair in the kitchen while you cook or study and every time you get something right he gives you a congratulatory kiss

But after that last bit of preparation, when he does kiss you, his hands are on your waist, fingers pressing into your skin lightly as his lips move against yours

Pulls away when you're breathless and smirks that sexy smirk FUCK ME

Now of course, his hands move to cup your butt and pull you closer

Well he makes you sit on his lap while he's still in the chair

Holds your face in one palm before looking into your eyes and just dives in to your mouth

It as so messy but it's also so hot like????? How even does he do that lol

His tongue is more in your mouth than his, purposely drawing out moans and small surprised squeals from you and your sounds are sending electricity to his cock

Which then leads to your both dry humping each other till he just feels like he's had enough of this teasing and dramatically pushes your things off the table to fuck you on it 😉🤭

Dawon

Oh this fucker knows what he's doing but he'll act all cute so you can't even blame him 😣

And it's always things that shouldn't even affect you like feeling his hot breaths against your neck while his chest heaves on your back or his hands that slowly pull your pants a little lower IT'S NOT EVEN NOTICEABLE

But fuck he knows what he wants and he also knows he's convincing you

He's so happy when you huff in annoyance and just push him onto the bed after dragging him to the room

His smile disappears when you straddle his lap and pull him closer by his shirt

And he starts to lose his shit when you bite your lip and trace his facial features, looking at him with your bedroom eyes, lowering yourself till you feel his half hard cock

When you start to rub your clothed core against his, fuck he's even more desperate

Hands go to your hips to guide your movement

But before he can kiss you, you tilt your head back moaning so loud, making him whine to feel your lips

You give in easily lmao 💀

Grinding down harder and kissing him even harder only breaking to remove your clothes 🤤

Zuho

He's been cooped up in the studio for too long so it is fair if you go and make sure he isn't as stressed 😉

And so you do

You walk in to his studio wearing the cutest skirt you own

But he's so engrossed in work he doesn't notice :(

That's okay cause you remove your shoes and pull his chair out, abruptly sitting on his lap, your back to his chest

That's when he notices the skirt, and his fingers trace the hem slowly raising it up 👀

Groans looking at your cute panties and turns your face to his to give you a sweet kiss

Makes you stand to lean on the table facing him

So when he stands he can tower you and make you feel small

His fingers comb through your scalp till he can pull your head back suddenly and slowly kisses up from your neck to your lips as you breathe hard through your mouth

His lips meet yours with a lot of force, whimpers and moans flying out from you when he starts to move you up on the table

"Naughty kitten" and imagine that with his deep ass voice WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF 😭

Rowoon

It all starts with a boring movie, you in his lap, breathing into each other's mouth while kissing

Your hands pulling at his hair

His hands roaming your body, squeezing you ass or choking you or cupping your boobs over your his shirt

And you're just grinding your core against his, dizzying the both of you

Desperately attempting to feel some sort of relief

He will surely laugh cutely at your struggle

Then of course he uses his strength to pin you down and kiss you again

But this time he moves his kisses down from your lips to your core 😉

Being the playfully unfair lover he is, he moves back up to capture your lips

His fingers have other plans tho 👀

He feels you get wetter as he traces your folds over your shorts

While swallowing your moans and cries for more

Or if he's feeling generous he will kiss your neck, listening to your cute begs for more while fingering you

Yoo Taeyang

Okay he knows that you are loving his biceps so he will purposely flex them especially after his home workout

And I mean this sweaty well defined biceps like those in his cycling pics

Smirking he just tells you that he's gonna shower before you both can spend time knowing full well that you will not stay put in your place

When you enter the bathroom, the scene in front of you is heavenly

Water cascading down from his wet hair through his abs and down his legs 👀

"Took you long enough"

Chuckling in disbelief you shake your head while undressing cause you'd be a fool to miss out

Climbing into the shower you push him onto the wall, pressing your chest to his and scratching his back while getting on your toes

Cupping your face he kisses you, pulling you both under the water coming from the shower

Your kiss is a mix of his and your salivas and the shower water, it's messy and desperate but you can't care when you feel his dick come to life against your stomach

Without further teasing he picks you up and fucks you in the shower as you clutch onto him harder every time his cock brushes your g-spot

Hwiyoung

Poor thing all he wanted was a relaxing bath till you entered

Stripping yourself, you enter the tub, sitting on his lap facing him and his shocked expression

He becomes a little less shocked when he, well his dick feels how wet you are lmao

Bringing one dripping hand out of the warm water he freely moves it from your cheek, down to your thigh but making sure to wet your neck and tweak your nipple in the process

Clenching your thighs hesitantly at the cold air you felt wherever he touched you, you moan with your eyes closed

Gulping he moves both his hands to your neck to pull you flush against him as he connects your lips together

His hands feel up your back

His kisses needy, muffling both of your moans while you wait for his cock to charge up 🤭

Chani

He didn't have the intention of making you weak in the knees

But fuck how can you not go weak when your boyfriend is so hot

Legit all he did was pulling his shirt off with one hand, skillfully

And that made you pull him into bed with you

Your legs trapping his left leg, grinding your needy core against his thigh

Chest pressed flush on his

Hands slightly scraping the skin on his back

Lips attached to his moist ones

His hands slowly hiking up your shirt to touch your soft skin

Tbh he can't take this for too long

So he flips you onto your back and climbs between your legs, a teasing smirk plastered on his face

And his even more teasing fingers tracing your skin up from your knee, over your thighs, stomach, chest till it reaches your throat, tilting your head up so he can pepper small lovebites on you

Places a bruising kiss on your lips till your eyes are rolling back from the foreplay itself

SF9 Masterlist

pretty sights | draco malfoy smut

draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: draco walks in on you masturbating on his bed and talks you through it before finishing you off himself.

warnings: smut, female and male masturbation, fingering, eating out, praise kink but also some degradation, slight cum play, maybe more?

word count: 2.1k 

a/n: this was meant to be less than 500 words for a blurb but i got carried away--

Draco was late. The two of you had been hooking up for a few months now, right under the noses of all of your friends, and he was easily the best you’d ever had. He’d slipped you a note that morning, telling you to be in his prefect dorm by seven that night-- no excuses. 

Yet here you were, all alone, no Draco in sight at all. You sighed, shutting your eyes as you lay your body across his silk sheets. They were the same Slytherin green that he loved, making you smile a little as you skimmed your fingers across them. His scent surrounded you; the green apple of his shampoo, the expensive cologne you bought him every year for his birthday. 

It was hard not to get turned on when you thought about all of the things that had happened on this bed. All of the words he’d said to you, all of the things he’d done to you and promised to do to you again and again and again until you were sick of it. You were sure you would never get sick of Draco and his fingers or his tongue or his cock. 

Without thinking too much about it, you sighed and wriggled on his bed so your head was comforted by his pillow. Your hand snaked down past the waistband of your school skirt, past your panties, touching your cunt. Your hands were cold from the coolness of the Slytherin dungeons, making you gasp. 

“Fuck…” You whispered, arching your back slightly to get a better angle at your clit. 

Waves of arousal surged through you as you began to rub yourself, feeling it throb beneath you as wetness collected around your entrance, dampening your fingers slightly as you slid them down. Swallowing, you threw your head back and closed your eyes, small breathy whimpers leaving your lips as you thought about Draco. 

“Are you imagining those are my fingers, darling?”

You glanced up, barely phased by Draco’s silent entrance into his bedroom. He stood leaning against the door, his arms folded and his silver eyes dark. His jaw was slightly clenched as if he was restraining himself from marching over to the bed and finishing your job himself. 

“Mhm,” you gave a small hum and a nod, deciding to part your legs a little so that he could see what you were doing better. 

Draco nearly groaned at your words, his lips parting slightly as he strode over. He kneeled on the end of the large bed, grabbing your knees with his large hands and parting them even further. Your actions didn’t stop on your clit, your fingers drawing circles that he couldn’t see properly past the lacy panties that you were wearing. 

Hiking your skirt up, he then reached forward and pulled at your panties. You moved your hand so he could tug them all the way down, but quickly returned your hand. Draco’s tongue darted out and wetted his top lip, entranced by your movements. 

“Are they as good as my fingers?” Draco questioned, voice darker than usual.

“No,” you whispered, sliding your middle finger down to your entrance and thrusting it inside, curling it the best you could. “Yours are so much longer. Feel so much better inside me. Thicker and deeper.”

Draco nearly looked like he was drunk, sort of dazed as he focused on your pleasuring yourself. He’d never seen you do it before, he’d always been the one making you feel good. His cock felt hard in his trousers, throbbing as it begged to be inside of you. Draco refrained from palming himself, tracing circles on your knee as he studied you. 

“Add another finger, pretty girl,” Draco murmured, “Stretch yourself wider for me.”

Chewing down on your bottom lip, you did as you were told, sliding your ring finger inside as well. Draco’s mouth parted a little further, his hand now gripping your knee a little as you began to slide your fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. He watched the way you curled them upwards, but he could tell that your own fingers didn’t do it for you like his own did. 

“Go faster,” Draco ordered, “I want to hear how wet you are.”

Your breath hitched but nevertheless you obeyed. Thrusting in and out of your cunt, you threw your head back and allowed your thumb to simultaneously rub at your clit. You wished he would take over and fuck you as hard and fast as he wanted into his green, silky sheets, but this was also arousing-- the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten already.

“Does rubbing your clit feel good, princess?” Draco whispered. 

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Pull out your fingers,” he commanded, watching with a smirk as you followed everything he said. “Let me lick them clean for you. Don’t want a drop to go to waste.”

You sat up a little, Draco moving to hover over you, his hand hand supporting his weight. You guided your fingers towards his mouth, watching as he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out slightly. A gush of wetness dampened your cunt even further, a moan escaping your lips as he took your fingers into his mouth, sucking lightly whilst looking you in the eye. 

He smirked around your fingers, the tip of his tongue cleaning you before he pulled away with a small pop. Breathlessly, you reached for him and tugged his face close to yours, your lips smashing against his. Draco’s mouth worked against yours like magic, like you were made for one another, his other hand moving to grab the back of your neck and bring you even closer.

“So good for me,” Draco muttered as he pulled away, his forehead against yours. “You’re my little slut, aren’t you? You’d do anything I say…”

“Anything,” you promise with a nod.

Draco bit his lip and then grinned, grabbing you by the neck and forcing you down against his pillows. You gasped as you looked up at him, feeling his hand snake down between your legs. He swiped a finger through your folds without breaking eye contact, causing your back to arch a little, thrusting your hips as he cupped your cunt with his large, cool hand. 

“So fucking wet…” He muttered, “Did imagining that it was me make you wanna cum, darling?”

“So bad,” you whispered. 

You were nearly cut off by two of his fingers thrusting straight into your entrance. It was so abrupt that you cried out, your head snapping backwards. The sound vibrated through the hand that Draco had wrapped around your neck, his thumb rubbing over your pulse point as he thrust his fingers in and out of you. The sounds that were being made nearly made you blush, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he curled his fingers, hitting spots that you could never reach by yourself. 

“Good girl,” Draco growled, “Such a good fucking girl for me. You know that nobody can make you cum like I do, don’t you? Not even yourself anymore. I’ve ruined you for even yourself.”

You could barely nod against him, your head too fuzzy. You felt like you were on cloud nine, small screams ripping past your lips when his thumb found your clit. He rubbed at it harshly, feeling your legs tremble. 

Draco pulled his fingers out of your cunt and retracted his hand from your throat. You squirmed as he moved down your body, grabbing your hips and pinning you down against the mattress so you couldn’t move. Your entire body shook a little as you felt him spit on your cunt. 

He moved one arm away and swirled his spit around your pussy, mixing it with your arousal before diving down. He didn’t ease you into it like normal, didn’t lick a stripe through your folds and then kitten lick at your clit, but wrapped his entire mouth around your swollen bud and began to suck. 

“Draco!” You moaned, reaching down and grabbing at his platinum hair, tugging slightly. “Fuck! Fuck, just like that…”

Draco made slurping noises and moaned against your cunt, enjoying the waves of wetness that coated his tongue as he lifted from your clit to thrust slightly at your entrance. Squeezing your eyes shut, you threw your head back and whined, desperate for some sort of release.

His moans against you grew more frequent so you lifted your head slightly, finding Draco rolling his hips against the bed. He thrusted his tongue in and out of your entrance a few times before peering up at you, silver eyes dark and hazy. 

“Have I ever told you how much eating you out fucking turns me on?” Draco muttered, grabbing your knees and yanking your legs apart again from where you had begun to squeeze them together for some sort of pressure. 

He delivered a smack to your clit, causing you to whimper. “Do not shut your legs,” he hissed, “Or I’ll leave you here alone to get off by yourself again.”

“No, no-- please,” you begged him. 

Draco’s smirk widened as he palmed himself through his trousers, bending down to suck at your clit. You felt his teeth nibble slightly, your mouth shaking as it dropped open. His hand that wasn’t currently unbuttoning his trousers moved to thrust fingers inside of you, fucking in and out of you whilst his tongue lapped you up and swirled around your swollen bud. 

The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, your teeth clamping down on your lips. You peered down at him again, moaning even louder when you realised that Draco had his hand in his underwear and was pumping at his cock whilst he got you off. 

“Please let me cum,” you sobbed, “Please, Draco. I’m gonna cum!”

Draco thrusted his fingers in harsher, lapping you up quicker. His tongue was flat against your clit, his breath hitting you in the most delicious way. You felt him nod and knew that permission had been granted. It didn’t take long before you tumbled over the edge, cumming all over Draco’s tongue. Your walls squeezed at his fingers, Draco groaning into you, sending vibrations across your body. 

“So fucking hot…” He muttered as he pulled his finger out of you and kneeled between your legs.

He pushed his trousers down and pumped his cock, rubbing his hand up and down it. It looked like he was going to cum any moment, hard as ever and leaking precum. Then, Draco moved to hover over you, his hands either side of your head. You thought he was going to thrust himself inside of you and use your body until he came, but then one of his hands reached down to guide his cock through your folds. 

You whimpered, feeling his dick slide through your arousal and hit your clit. Draco thrusted his hips, rubbing his cock up and down your wet cunt, pressing into your clit every now and then. His mouth dropped open a little and then he swallowed thickly, glancing down between your bodies to watch his cock slide between your folds, hard and red and glistening with your cum. 

“Fuck, gonna cum all over your beautiful cunt,” Draco hissed, giving a few more thrusts before you felt his hot seed spill all over you. “Yeah, that’s it. Take my cum.”

Draco groaned loudly, burying his head in your neck, his lips nipping at you for a moment or two. Your hands moved to his pale back where you grazed your nails up and down his skin, thrusting your hips up to apply some more pressure to his cock. It jerked slightly when he was finished cumming and he pulled away, studying the mess that he had made all over you. 

“Fuck…” Draco muttered, “I’m not sure there’s a prettier sight than this… You covered in my cum.”

His fingers moved to swirl in his cum and he dipped them down to your entrance, thrusting it inside of you. He scooped more and did the same, painting you with it. Your body trembled and you swore, watching lazily as he rubbed your clit a few more times. You shuddered and came, this time less intense than the last, his name falling from your lips over and over again. 

“Maybe I’ll turn up late again if I get to walk in on you getting off on my bed,” Draco muttered, leaning up and brushing your hair out of your face with his clean hand. He slipped his messy one into your mouth, letting you clean it for him. “Fancy a bath now?”

You chuckled breathlessly and nodded. “You read my mind.”

Little Tease

Pairing: Severus Snape x reader

Requested by @fandom-puff

Summary: Your choice of attire gets Severus a little riled up...

Smut!

Severus thought he might just die.  His eyes tracked your hands as they pulled sheer black stockings over your legs and hooked them onto a garter belt.  His mouth dried out and his cock hardened in his trousers.  Severus stalked over to you, coming to stand behind you, his hips grinding into your ass, arms coming around your shoulders.  “Have you any idea what you do to me?” he asked, and you smirked, pulling open your dresser drawer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling,” you replied, selecting a plain black skirt that fell to your midthigh.  But Severus wouldn’t let you move from his embrace, pressing a lingering kiss to your jaw.  “Don’t you?  Then just why are you wearing those stockings, my sweet?  I think that you’re trying to tease me, distract me, hmm?”  That was indeed your intent, at least part of it, but you weren’t keen on giving up so soon.  “Why would you do that, Sev?  We both know how much we have to get done today.”

“We can get that done after I fuck you,” Severus said, spinning you in his arms, pressing his lips to yours.  You resisted the intense urge to melt in his arms and let him have his way with you, instead pushing him back gently.  “I wish I could, Sev.  But I have to go into town and pick up a package for Sirius.”  Severus sighed, stepping back from you.  He might be insanely aroused, but if you said no, then he’d go no farther.  You pulled your skirt on, fixing your hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek.  “I’ll be back, love.  And maybe later I’ll let you have your way with me.”

As you exited your bedroom and went down the many stairs of Grimmauld Place, you smirked to yourself.  You didn’t really need to go into town, you could have asked Remus or one of the younger Order members to do it, but what could you say?  You wanted to tease your man.  About an hour later, you returned, giving Sirius his package before heading back upstairs.  Severus caught you halfway up the stairs, pressing you against the wall and kissing you hard.

“I’ve been hard all morning, Y/N,” he rasped against your lips.  “So fucking hard.  I keep picturing your perfect legs in those damn stockings.”  You sighed into the kiss, one arm around his neck, the other hand on his chest.  You trailed that hand down his body until you were cupping Severus’ bulge, making him whimper.  He kissed you again, keeping you against the wall, his tongue entering your mouth.

You gently squeezed Severus’ erection, and he gasped, rolling his hips into your hand.  Just when you were about to suggest moving to the bedroom, footsteps were heard coming up the stairs.  “What do you two think you’re doing?”  Molly Weasley stomped the rest of the way up the steps, fire in her eyes, and you stepped out of your husband’s embrace.  “Molly,” Severus greeted, his voice slightly strained.  “Really you two, I’d have thought you’d have more self restraint than a few 6th years!”

“We are married, Molly,” you said, stepping in front of Severus, both in a protective movement and to hide his erection.  “There is nothing wrong with-”  “I’m noy saying there’s anything wrong with it!  But in the hallway where anyone could see?  There are students here, Severus!”  He said nothing, not trusting himself to speak.  “Now,”  Molly continued.  “Get yourselves together and downstairs for the meeting.”  The Weasley matriarch turned and descended the stairs, Severus sighing when she was gone. “Some nerve on that one,” you muttered, righting your skirt and heading downstairs, Severus following close behind.

***

Of course, it was when Severus was hornier than he’d ever been in his life, when his cock felt like it might burst with how it ached, when he was seriously thinking about taking you over the table, that was when the meeting ran long.  Molly hadn’t stopped you from sitting next to your husband, and you could feel the arousal and tension radiating off of him.  He tried to listen to the meeting, he really did, but Severus’ mind wandered to fantasies of fucking you in every position imaginable.

His hand strayed to his hips, and Severus thanked Merlin that the tablecloth concealed his waist.  Slowly, he pressed on his cock, nearly hissing at the stimulation.  He’d refrained from touching himself while you were gone, but he couldn’t hold back any longer.  Severus palmed himself slowly, enough to relieve the ache, but not enough to truly pleasure him.  His teeth were grit, holding back his sighs and moans of pleasure, his hand working his cock slowly.

When you noticed, you stilled his hand, and Severus couldn’t keep the desperate whine from leaving his throat at the loss of stimulation.  “Soon,” you whispered, eyes staying on the table before you.  Finally, Sirius rose, saying the meeting was over, and Severus thought he might sob.  As soon as there was a clear path up the stairs, he bolted up them, dragging you behind him.  The door to your bedroom slammed shut, and once it was locked and warded, Severus was stripping you naked, moaning at the sight of you in nothing but the stockings and garter belt.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so beautiful,” he said, tearing his own clothes from his body.  “My gorgeous wife.  And you’re all mine.”  You’d been wet all day, as Severus had been hard all day, and you whimpered as he pulled you flush to him, kissing you deeply.  Now naked, his hard, weeping cock pressed to your abdomen, and your pussy clenched around nothing.  “Severus, fuck me,” you pleaded, and that was all he needed to hear.

Severus roughly pushed you onto the bed, flipping you onto your belly and pulling you up to your hands and knees.  There was no need to ready either of you; you were plenty wet enough, and Severus lined himself up, thrusting into you hard.  “Fuck!” you shouted as he stretched you out, cock filling you up just right.  He set a rough, hard, nearly brutal pace, skin slapping against skin, sweet, desperate moans filling the room.  Severus bent over you, rutting into you like a dog in heat, the pent up desperation and need he’d felt all day finally letting loose.

“Teasing me with those stockings all day,” he grunted.  “Fuck, Y/N, the things you do to me.  I’ve wanted to fuck you all day, ever since I saw you put those bloody things on.”  “Sev,” you moaned, eyes rolling back in your head.  “Yes!  Right there, oh fuck!”  The head of his cock was ramming into your g-spot with each thrust, the angle allowing him to fuck you deeper.  His hips moved with almost inhuman speed, drawing you closer and closer to that blissful peak.

And Severus sensed it, as he always could, and brought a hand around your waist to rub your clit.  “S-Severus!” you wailed, bucking your hips weakly to match his thrusts.  “Yes!  Oh, yes!  Please, please, oh fuck, I’m gonna… yes!”  Your words devolved into a string of gibberish as your orgasm crested, legs trembling and giving out beneath you.  Severus held you upright as he came, biting down on your shoulder as he released within you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, kissing over your neck and up the side of your face, pulling out a moment later.  You whined at the loss, content to lie with him inside you for hours on end, keeping you filled up, but sense was also lost on you at the moment.  Severus cast the contraceptive and cleaning charms, pulling your stockings and garters from your legs.  He then lay down at your side, pulling you into his chest, kissing you sweetly and tenderly.

“Little tease,” he whispered, a smile on his face.  “I love you so much.”  “Hmm, I love you too, Sev.”  “You looked so damn beautiful in those, Y/N.  You always look beautiful, but those stockings just added something to it.”  “Thank you, Sev.  I thought you’d like them.”  “Oh I do, very much.  I think I’ll have to buy you more.  A lot more.”  You laughed softly, cuddling closer to Severus’ chest.  “My beautiful wife, I love you.”  You hummed, too fucked out and tired to respond, but the sentiment was clear.

London Boy - Part 3: I like girls that dance

summary: It’s your first night out and your first real introduction to Westheath. Rafe is quick to find his way on your radar.

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 4.6k

a/n: the way I’m imagining Jack Harlow as I write Liam 😩✋also, im pulling these chapter titles out of my ass - but actually tho, go listen to Girls That Dance by Masego 

Part 1 Part 2

Despite your doubts, you put on the sheer top and the black mini skirt Millie and Olivia had insisted you wear. Your favorite pregame playlist plays as you do your makeup in the mirror. You move as quickly as you can, in desperate need of a shot to calm your nerves before your flat fills with people. You’re also nervous about seeing Rafe after that encounter in the kitchen you just had. 

As you run your fingers through your hair and put on your earrings, all you can see is his stupid (and annoyingly attractive) face, staring down at you with that dumb backwards cap, telling you that you guys should watch Game of Thrones together. Every time your mind starts to think if that means something, you quickly shut down the thought. Of course it doesn’t mean anything. Just because a boy wants to watch a show with you does not automatically mean he wants you or that this was going to turn into some kind of Netflix and chill situation. Or was this gonna be a Netflix and chill situation? I mean it was Rafe Cameron after all, the boy certainly had a reputation. But then again, hadn’t he just showed you that he’s different from what you had expected? Oh god this was all too much to think about right now, you needed a shot. Stat. 

“Y/N!” Olivia shouts, swinging the door to your room open right on cue. “Oh. My. God. You look so hot!” she exclaims. “Here, this is for you,” she extends a shot glass toward you with a devilish grin. 

“Oh god what is it,” you grimace. Shots always seemed like a better idea in theory than in practice. 

“Try it and find out,” she smirks. You sigh and send the liquid to the back of your throat, immediately cringing at the sting of raspberry vodka, Olivia bringing a cup of cranberry juice to your mouth to chase. 

“Don’t worry love, a few more and you won’t even taste it. Now come on,” she laughs, dragging you with her to the kitchen. The rest of your flatmates are already there, Millie bopping along to the music, giggling at whatever Topper is saying, Rafe standing close by sipping his drink. 

“Y/n you hottie!” Millie cheers, looking up as you make your way into the kitchen. You pray to god your cheeks aren’t turning pink. You don’t dare turn your head, but you know Rafe is staring at you. If you looked at him now you’d be crimson for sure. 

“Alright everybodyyy,” Olivia begins, pouring the same raspberry vodka into the five shot glasses she has lined up on the table. You can’t help but laugh at her infectious energy, this girl is nothing if not the life of the party. 

“Cheers to our first night out as flat mates! Wooo!!!” she exclaims, as everyone grabs a shot glass from the table, Rafe instinctively passing you one, hands briefly touching during the exchange and again as you all clink your glasses. You down the contents, unsure if the heat forming in your chest is from the vodka or the feeling of Rafe’s passing touch. 

Pretty soon people start to arrive, Olivia and Millie making sure to introduce everyone. The flat becomes a blur of bodies drinking, dancing, and mingling about, and somehow, despite it all, Rafe Cameron is the person you find yourself standing with. There was something magnetic about him that you couldn’t quite understand, but it kept drawing you near. 

“What are you drinking tonight Cameron,” you nod at the cup in his hand.

“Jack and coke. Of course,” he scoffs with subtle sarcasm, which you instantly pick up on. 

“Not straight whiskey? Wow. That’s not very Figure 8 of you,” you admonish playfully.

“Straight whiskey? L/n who do you think I am?” he twists his face in mock disbelief. “But I’m game to do a shot if you are,” he adds.

“Hmm that does-“ you begin, but you’re quickly cutoff. 

“Y/n, babe, if I had known you’d be here I would’ve came sooner,” Liam greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a cheeky smile. 

“Now how on earth do you two know each other,” Millie asks, walking in line with the boy.

“Umm,” you chuckle nervously. You could not have possibly felt more awkward at the conversation unfolding in front of you, Rafe standing by as witness to it all. “He’s that boy I went to the bar with the other night,” you explain sheepishly.

“That was Liam!? Chrissake. Well I apologize on his behalf for anything he said or did.”

“Hey I’ll have you know I’m a proper gentleman!” he defends, throwing you a wink as Millie rolls her eyes. Just at that moment, another group of people walk in through the door, conveniently coming to Rafe’s rescue.

“Rafe!” a girl calls and he clears his throat excusing himself, Millie following suit to greet the latest batch of guests. You watch as he leans in for a hug with the girl who’s just called his name. She’s twirling her hair and batting her eyes, confident, flirty, gorgeous - just his type. A sick feeling pools in your stomach, you don’t even realize you’re staring. 

“Lily Colts, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Liam informs you as he takes the now empty spot next to you.

“Oh, um no, I was just uh-“

“It’s okay Y/n, I get it. So flatmate huh” he laughs, unbothered.

“No no it’s not like that at all I uh-”

“Alright. Y/n,” he says, jumping up to sit on the counter behind him, cracking open the can in his hand. “You know I think you’re hot and you know I like messing with you-”

“Actually I know neither of those things,” you reply indignantly. 

“Yes you do, you’re not dim,” he bulldozes right on, “I can read people pretty well, and there was a vibe there.”

“A vibe?”

“Yeah. Between you and what’s-his-face. You should’ve seen the way he tensed up when I came up to you,” he snickers in amusement.

“Shut up. His name is Rafe, by the way, and there was no ‘vibe.’ Also why are you even telling me this?” you ask, growing frustrated with the cocky brunette.

“Y/n please,” he scoffs. “I told you I can read people, so let me read you. You’re out here in London right, far away from home, keen for a fresh start. You’ve never been one for meaningless flings, but fuck it, if everyone else can do it, why not you? Or so you try to convince yourself, but you know that’s not you. See, you crave that emotional connection, and when you find even a hint of it, you’re a goner. Which is why you’d never actually hook up with me and it’s why you’re staring at that boy from home even though you swear you don’t care, but you do - you feel something there.”

You’re dumbfounded by his ability to know things about you that even you yourself can’t recognize. “I liked it better when you were just flirting with me,” you grumble.  

“No worries darling, I’ll definitely still do that. I’ll even dance on you in the club if you ask nicely, might make pretty boy over there jealous,” he motions with his eyes toward Rafe, at which you give his shoulder a shove.

“You’re an idiot you know, Millie was right on the money with that,” you quip, as the two of you head over to her, Liv, and the boys.

“Please, Millie wishes she could be right on something else,” he says as you shoot him a glare, trying your best to suppress a laugh. Liam was starting to become a pain in your ass, too smart for his own good, but at least he was a funny one.

—

Your first night clubbing was going great. The place was packed, the music was good, and you were having a blast dancing with Liv, Millie, and their friends. You couldn’t help looking around the club though, eyes scanning for Rafe in the crowd. He’d been hanging out all night with Topper and some of the guys from their new soccer team. You longed to be near him somehow, to interact with him again. All your conversations with him earlier today had left you with an excited buzz - you didn’t know what it was about this version of Rafe Cameron in London, but you were actually enjoying his company.

You try to push him out of your mind and just enjoy the moment. It’s not like there was anything between you and Rafe, you had just barely began to form a semblance of a potential friendship today, let’s not get carried away. Besides, you live with the boy, accidentally running into him wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. 

“Anyone want anything from the bar?” you shout over the music to your friends.

“Vodka soda with lime please!” Olivia shouts back and you nod, turning to make your way to the counter a few feet away. You place your order and mindlessly tap your fingers on the bar as a figure appears beside you.

“Hey, Y/n right? Flatmates with Olivia, Mills, and the boys?” the girl asks, and you turn, now face to face with Lily. 

“Uh yeah, hey,” you feign a smile back. 

“I’m Lily, nice to meet you,” she smiles genuinely. “I’m friends with all the Westheath bozos you’ve probably been meeting tonight,” she laughs, “Callum and Henry over there are my best mates. They’re on the football team with Rafe and Topper, we were showing them around earlier. My god you guys have been hoarding some cute ones over there in America.”

You chuckle, “glad that Kildare’s presence can at least be of some benefit.” 

“So, girl to girl here, what can you tell me about Rafe Cameron? He’s such a hottie isn’t he? Would love to get a taste of that,” she smirks, licking her lips.

“Umm I don’t really have much to tell,” you say, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. You could tell her what you thought you knew of Outer Banks Rafe - he’s a rich, party-boy player. But after today, that no longer felt right. You didn’t want to say or presume anything about him at all actually, it felt wrong to talk about him like that. God, what the hell was wrong with you? You spend a few hours with the boy and you already have a soft spot for him? You needed to get a grip. “Our families know each other but we don’t really hang out at home. He’s uh- he’s cool though,” you decide as a sufficient response.

“Any girl friend?” she asks, sliding cash over to the bartender as she orders a shot.

“Rafe’s not really the ‘girlfriend-type’,” you answer, bartender sliding you the drinks you ordered and Lily her’s. 

“Well then cheers to that,” she grins, clinking her shot glass to your drink before she downs it, waving a quick goodbye. You watch as she makes her way back to Rafe and their group, adorning a flirty smile. You feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to hate her, you did. But you couldn’t. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just confident, outgoing, and not afraid to go after what she wanted. There was nothing for you to be angry about, who was stopping you from doing the same?

 But in the back of your mind you decided you could never go after Rafe like that. He would never be interested in you in that way, you were sure of it. You had a hard time believing your friends when they hyped you up, so you definitely weren’t going to believe for a single second that a boy you thought was cool could possibly look at you in the same way. Besides, the mere idea of being rejected by Rafe Cameron, and then having to continue living with him and eventually go back to the Outer Banks for everyone to find out you had been rejected by the kook prince, was so mortifying that the very thought made you want to crawl into a hole. So you promise yourself, right then and there, that you won’t let yourself get hurt like that. You could hang out with Rafe, get to know him, become friends even, but under no circumstances could you be caught wearing your heart on your sleeve. You couldn’t disarm yourself like that and give him the upper hand. You needed to look out for yourself first and foremost, preserving the little bit of control you still had over your life. 

You walk back over to your friends, slipping Liv her drink as her and Jake dance together. Your new friends are all tipsy and in a world of their own, getting lost in the music and their movements.

“Dance with me,” you turn to Liam who’s right beside you.

“I said if you ask nicely,” he admonishes sarcastically, to which you roll your eyes.

“I’m not gonna beg Liam. You wanna dance or not?”

“Sheesh, Lily Colts got your panties in a twist like that?”

“Not. At. All.” You confidently stare into his eyes, sipping your drink. It’s no use, Liam knows you all too well by now, and you curse yourself for the way in which this boy is able to see right through all the walls you put up. You may think these walls are made of brick, but to Liam they’re glass.

He just laughs at you, shaking his head in amusement. He grabs your free hand and pulls you closer to him, your bodies now pressed together. He takes your hand and rests it on the back of his neck, his finding their way to your hips. He plants his leg in between yours and soon you guys are lost in the rhythm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second. He spins you around and you lightly grind your ass against him.

“Damn Y/n, I didn’t know you move like that,” he jokes, as you face forward again. He leans in, his hand on the small of your back, and you feel his breath right against your ear, “he’s looking by the way.” Your breath hitches, but you know better than to turn around. Liam is already one step ahead of you, instinctively twirling you again so you can quickly catch a glimpse of Rafe’s eyes on yours without it being obvious. “Told you he’d be jealous,” he smirks down at you triumphantly.

“Shut up,” you reply, the slightest smile tugging at your lips as your sweaty bodies continue to move to the music.

—-

“Aw flatmate bonding you guysss,” Olivia gushes, as you all sit together at a booth. She had forced you all out of your beds this morning to get breakfast together. Despite being hungover and groggy, you all reluctantly agreed. “Mimosas anyone?” she jokes.

“If I so much as smell any alcohol I think I’ll vomit,” Topper groans.

“Aw, what’s the matter, can’t handle your liquor Tops?” Millie asks, quirking her head to the side.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Could ask you the same question. My room is right next to the bathroom, don’t think I didn’t hear your retching last night,” he snaps back, to which Millie turns bright red and soon you’re all hunched over in laughter.

“I think a mimosa would make me yak right now too, to be fair. Coffees all around!” Olivia asserts.

You’re seated across from Rafe as you both scan your menus, your eyes immediately fixing in on the pancakes. The waiter comes by to take all your orders and you can’t help but blush a little when Rafe orders pancakes and you have to follow with a “same for me.” Such a silly, meaningless thing, I mean everyone likes pancakes. But being the only one to have the same exact order as Rafe leaves you feeling embarrassed, for no good reason all the same. You all begin to scarf down your food as soon as it arrives, thankful to have something to soak up the alcohol in your stomachs, as you share stories and laugh about last night’s drunken antics. 

“So how is it that we’re all flatmates and yet I only have Topper’s contact. Come on, add ‘em in,” Rafe says, sliding his unlocked phone to the middle of the table.

“Wait I want snapchats too. Oooh! And instagram!” Olivia pipes, whipping out her phone as well.

“I expect no booty calls Cameron. This is strictly business,” Millie jokes, typing in her and Olivia’s numbers before passing his phone to you. 

“Am I allowed a booty call?” Topper smirks, extending his phone as well.

“I wouldn’t push your luck Thornton,” she smirks back and he pouts in response. You finish typing your name and number into Rafe’s phone and hand it back to him, skin briefly making contact once again. Even though you had known Rafe all your life, somehow you two never had a reason to exchange numbers, only following each other on Instagram which he never posted on anyways.

“Alright everyone, pull up your snapchat codes, I wanna make a group,” Olivia says and everyone obliges, arms crossing every which way as you all add each other. “What should we name our group chat? Ooo can we do a ship name of our schools - like Kilheath or Westare?” 

“I like Kilheath,” Topper chimes in.

“Yeah I bet you do you psychopath. Sounds like the name of a bad horror movie,” Rafe laughs.

“Oooo there’s five of us, we could be the Spice Girls,” Millie beams.

“No.” Topper immediately shuts her down. 

“What about ‘American Boys and Spice Girls.’ You know, like the Kanye West song,” you add.

“Ehh, we’re getting closer, but not quite there,” Rafe teases you and you playfully kick him under the table. “I’m hearing a lot of opinions and not a lot of contributions,” you cross your arms and raise your brows.

“Hey hey hey, I’m a critic, not a chef L/n,” he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Ooo I got it! We can call it the ‘Royal fam,’ like the royal family,” Olivia suggests, finally getting approval from the whole group. Breakfast is soon over and you all return to your rooms, eager to nap away the remainder of your hangovers. You lay in your bed and stare at the newly formed snapchat group on your phone. Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 appears on top and you scroll down, looking at Rafe’s username and bitmoji on your screen. You laugh at the fact that even his bitmoji wears a backwards cap. It was weird, having him in your phone like this. You had known this boy your whole life, but you two had always operated in separate spheres. And here he was, in your Snapchat, a glimpse into the life of Rafe, of which you only ever got a birds eye view of back home. It almost felt like you were trespassing somewhere you didn’t belong, having access to him like this. You sigh and lock your phone. Rafe Cameron really isn’t all that bad.

—

The next few days fly by fast as you become acclimated to Westheath. You and the rest of the Kildare kids attend an orientation with Westheath’s exchange advisor, spending the whole time with your little trio: you, Rafe, and Topper. When you had first arrived abroad, you were deadset on forging your own path in London and steering clear of everyone else from OBX. But hanging out with Rafe and Topper made you all but forget. It was fun and easy hanging out with them, in fact, counterintuitively, they were helping you forget all about the Outer Banks, just as you had hoped to do. Your conversations centered around your interests, your new lives, on random jokes and made up bits. It was almost as if there was a mutual unspoken agreement between you, them also trying to escape and forget their lives in OBX.

Pretty soon classes began, and you were learning a new schedule and adapting to British schooling. Your evenings were spent singing and dancing in the kitchen as you, Liv, and Millie simultaneously cooked your dinners, getting pints at the pub around the corner with your Westheath friends, and playing card games at the kitchen table with Rafe and Topper, the smack talk between you three flowing strong. There’d be short moments where you’d find yourself alone with Rafe - he’d explain to you whatever Premier League team was playing that day, you’d show him how the coffee machine works, and the occasional passing comments of “so when are we finally starting Game of Thrones, Cameron?” “I’m ready whenever you are, L/n.”

—

It was a Wednesday night, and you were curled up in your fluffy gray blanket watching Gilmore Girls in bed. You found the show comforting and familiar, the small town of Stars Hallow reminding you of what you wished your life in the Outer Banks could be like. Instead it was more like the cold and pretentious atmosphere of Chilton and the older Gilmores’ Hartford life. Your phone buzzes, and you pick it up lazily to check, suddenly freezing at the notification on your screen.

Snapchat: Rafe Cameron

You had opened a few snapchats from the boy over the past few days, but they were always random ones he would send to the group chat. This one was just for you. You gulp and put your phone down, not wanting to open it too fast. A few minutes go by and you realize you haven’t paid an ounce of attention to the show on your screen, even though you’re staring right at it. Fuck it. You open your phone and tap on the unread snap.

When are we watching Game of Thrones L/n the snapchat says, a picture of his laptop on his bed and the HBO Max home page open, the series featured in the corner of the screen.

You snap back a picture of your blanket and the laptop playing Gilmore Girls in front of you: ready whenever you are Cameron.

Almost immediately you get a response back.

Rafe Cameron: wait are you home rn? His message is accompanied by a random picture of his room, a view you let your eyes linger on until the message expires. Another peak into Rafe Cameron’s world.

Y/n: Yep! You send a blurry selfie of you wrapped in your blanket.

Rafe Cameron: be over in 5

You leave that last message on open and your heart starts to race. Just breathe Y/n, breathe, you keep telling yourself. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if you don’t make it out to be. It’s just a show. Just a show. And besides, you guys are friends now, right? You sit up in your bed and grab your pillow, shifting over to sit horizontally on your mattress. That seems more casual to you, more ‘just a couple friends watching a show together at a comfortable distance’ and less ‘sitting right on top of each other Netflix and chill’. You gulp down some water to ease your dry throat when you hear a gentle knock.

“Come in!” you call out, and now Rafe Cameron is in your room, eyes absorbing all the details that are so you. The posters on one wall, film camera photos on another. The string lights which wrap around your room and give it a warm glow. The plants, the subtle scent of vanilla. The bag you always carried with you, hanging off the side of your chair. He almost felt like he was intruding, like he was getting an intimate glimpse of something that was for your eyes only. 

“Whats up,” he says, holding his laptop and closing the door behind him. 

“Ready to finally start the show,” you laugh, “it’s about damn time.”

“Hey, I’ve been ready, it’s you who’s been taking your sweet time.”

“Is that so?” you ask sarcastically and a smile forms on his face.

“What are you doing over there? Who sits like that on their bed?” he asks, now coming over and taking a seat on your mattress facing vertically, propping your other pillow behind his back. “Can’t even stretch out your legs or anything,” he continues, patting the spot on the bed next to him, signaling for you to come over.

“I don’t know, I think it’s comfy,” you lie as you crawl over to him, your first line of defense already shot down. 

“Weirdo,” he chuckles to which you nudge him in the side with your elbow. “If Topper’s wrong about this I’m gonna give him so much shit,” he says.

“Topper does have a lot of questionable opinions,” you laugh, “but I have a good feeling about this one.

—

One episode turned into two turned into three, you and Rafe instantly hooked. The nerves you had felt earlier at sitting so close next to this boy in your bed had all but dissipated, you quickly acclimating to the space he took up next to you. Even though by now all your previous misconceptions about Rafe had disappeared, replaced with the boy you had come to know over the past week, there was a small part of you that was still waiting to see if he’d try to pull something on you, like the Rafe you imagined back home surely would. Of course he didn’t, watching and discussing the show with you, making you feel as comfortable as if you two had been friends for years. You almost felt bad for having had doubted him in the first place.

When the third episode ended and you two got into a long post-episode discussion, you hardly noticed when the conversation began to digress. You both started to sink lower and lower down into your pillows, until you were both laying on your backs, staring at the ceiling and lost in exchanges of words and thoughts. The conversation was different this time, more candid and open, as if the shadow of the night was inviting you to divulge thoughts you wouldn’t have shared in the day. He spoke of his strained relationship with his father and you shared the silly drama that had caused a riff between you and your former friends back home. He showed you pictures of his dog and you showed him the video you had been working on all summer long in OBX, not having anyone to hang out with before you left for London. He talked about how he felt so disconnected from almost everyone on that island, and you nodded, understanding all too well. The conversation continued to ebb and flow, the occasional funny video or meme pulling you two into fits of laughter before seamlessly delving into another vulnerable train of thought. You both had your Spotify accounts open now, taking turns sharing your favorite songs. You put on a playlist you had made over the summer, full of songs that made you feel at peace. 

“This puts you at ease huh,” he says.

You turn your head to look at him, “how could you tell?”

“I don’t know. I guess just the way your whole body relaxed the second you pressed play,” he replies.

“Yeah,” you say turning your head back toward the ceiling. “I know it sounds cheesy, but I feel like these songs are speaking to my soul or something,” you whisper.

“Yeah I get that… I have those too,” he whispers back. Neither of you realize it’s already 5 am and neither of you notice as your eyes both get heavy and sleep washes over you, playlist in the background like a lullaby. And at some point during your deep sleep, Rafe’s arm has found itself unconsciously wrapped around you.

---

Part 4

a/n: lemme know what you think!(:

idk if this is too intense for you, if it is feel free to ignore but i wanted to send in a request :)

Catching perv spence looking in elles bag somehow and then bringing elle in to punish him together and you make him wear the panties while degrading tf outta him and slapping his ass and pulling his hair and all that good stuff! if you want to add or take anything out that works too btw! have fun with this :)

Three's Company

Summary: Reader catches Spencer stealing a pair of Elle's panties

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Elle Greenaway x Reader

Warnings: sub!spence, perv!spence, threesome, spencer wearing panties and a skirt, oral sex (female receiving), degradation, spanking, hair pulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, face riding

Word Count: 1374

A/N: This is straight porn. I could not look my mother in the eye for hours after I wrote this. This is part 1 of the Mommy & Ma'am series.

Elle’s door opened silently and you smiled to yourself, excited to be surprising her for once. Neither of you was too keen on labels but at some point after a month of covert glances and late-night calls and hands not-so-innocently brushing against each other, Hotch had the good sense to make you share a room. That was three weeks ago. Three weeks of mind-blowing sex and maybe - just maybe - the beginning of something more.

So imagine your surprise when you found Spencer in her room instead. Shy, adorable Spencer who could barely look at you for 5 minutes without flushing a deep scarlet and stumbling all over his words. You often caught him blatantly staring at your chest and it would be a lie to say that he didn’t prompt you to introduce more low-cut blouses into your work attire. Just the other night Elle had teased you about him, saying that you should put him out of his misery before he had an aneurysm in the bullpen. He was crouched by the foot of her bed and you took a cautious step forward to see what he was looking at.

You sucked in a sharp breath. It was a pair of Elle’s panties, delicate black lace that fit her like a second skin. They were a gift and you couldn’t help the heat that pooled between your thighs when you recalled how Elle thanked you. Unfortunately, you had alerted Spencer to your presence and he whirled around in shock, still clutching the underwear in one hand. “Y/N, shit! I’m not - This isn’t what it looks like!”

“Oh really? Because it looks like you’re stealing Elle’s panties.” You tried to look mad but an amused smile pulled at the corner of your mouth. He scrambled to find an excuse, some explanation that would exonerate him but he came up empty. What could he say? Instead, he opted for a pleading look. Those puppy dog eyes nearly persuaded you to be merciful but Spencer always had the worst luck.

“Put them on.” Elle’s voice took both of you by surprise.

She kicked the door closed behind her and cocked her head to the side, a telltale sign of growing impatience. Spencer’s eyes widened and he looked between you and Elle in disbelief. He tried to seem reluctant but the truth was that he was incredibly turned on which was quickly revealed as he undressed. His hands trembled as he pulled the panties up, gasping slightly as the coarse material scraped over his leaking sex.

“You like playing dress-up, don’t you?” Elle crossed the room with three long strides. Spencer gave a weak nod but she didn’t bother to look, already rooting around in her bag and unearthing a little red skirt. “Put this on too. If you’re gonna act like a slut, you better look the part.”

He complied without hesitation, much too excited to be living out one of his biggest fantasies to be concerned with his ego. The air was knocked from your lungs when Spencer managed to squeeze the skirt up to his hips. He was so pretty, you had to sit down to stop yourself from pouncing on him.

Elle lifted the front of the skirt with a finger. “Look how cute his little cock is in my panties. I should make you wear them all the time.” But her mood darkened when she saw that they were already soaked with precum. “Y/N bought me these panties and now you’ve ruined them”

“No, please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to” he looked at her with pure desperation but Elle was not known for her forgiveness. “Get on your knees”

He dropped so quickly it gave you whiplash and you hardly had time to process the fact that Elle was guiding him in front of your parted legs. “Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Y/N”

He started to stammer out an apology but Elle shut him up by grabbing his chin harshly. “No. None of this ‘I’m sorry’ bullshit. Apologize properly”

He looked up at you frantically as you gathered your wits about you and quickly shimmied out of your underwear and sleep shorts, unwilling to incur Elle’s wrath. Spencer nearly fainted at the sight of your glistening core and he didn’t waste any time pushing himself up on his hands and knees to lap at your folds. He explored you fervently, barely pausing to breathe. Just as he began to relax, Elle bunched up the back of the skirt and brought a hand down hard. You felt him jump, moaning into your cunt as she laid three more blows in quick succession. He whimpered at the harsh sting and the vibrations sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine. “I’ll stop when you make her cum”

That was all the encouragement he needed, doubling his efforts. He flattened his tongue and licked a stripe up your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth. A strangled cry left your lips and you threw your head back, relishing in the sound of Elle ceaselessly slapping Spencer’s raw flesh. It was all too much and you were tumbling over the edge in no time, moaning out a string of obscenities as the force of your orgasm wracked through your body. As promised, Elle stopped but she immediately grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back so he was looking up at you. “What do you think, Y/N? Does he deserve to cum? Was he as good as me?”

She smiled wickedly as she asked her last question, already anticipating your answer. “No one’s as good as you.”

Spencer was incredible. At one point, you were convinced he had transported you from this earthly realm to another of pure, unadulterated pleasure but Elle was on a whole other level. She could have you shaking in seconds, drawing out one climax after another until you couldn’t see straight, much less think.

“That’s just too bad” she shook her head in disapproval as she pulled him up by his hair. “No, no, please. I can do better. I swear. I’ll do anything you want”

“You’re so fucking pathetic, Dr. Reid. Begging for it like a whore” she pushed him onto the bed and gestured for you to straddle him. She pushed the panties to the side and drew her hand up his length. “Do you know how to use this?”

He nodded vigorously, desperate to please. “Prove it then.”

Elle’s free hand settled onto your lower back and you leaned into her touch as she guided you down his length. You let out a little gasp when you were fully seated, feeling impossibly full. Spencer wasn’t doing much better, head thrown back against the pillows and eyes screwed shut in an attempt to hold back his release. But Elle wasn’t done. She joined you on the bed, swinging a leg over Spencer’s face and bracing her hands on his chest so she could watch you ride him. “I don’t care how good it feels, you don’t come until we do”

Feeling bold, Spencer grabbed onto Elle’s thighs and brought her down closer with no regard for his respiratory needs. As far as he was concerned, if this was how he went he would die a happy man. He pulled out all the stops, circling her entrance with his tongue before delving inside and tipping his head forward so his chin brushed against her clit. All the while you were bouncing on his cock in search of your release, letting out soft moans each time he bottomed out. You were so close, needing just a little more to reach your climax. Elle was lost in the paradise that was Spencer’s tongue but she managed to make out your pleading look and brought a hand to your clit. “Come for me, darling.”

It was like you set off a chain reaction. Your release propelling Elle to come on Spencer’s face which was all the permission he needed to flood you with warmth. With uncoordinated movements, Elle reached forward to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss as the three of you were swept up in each other.

Okay I just finished devouring your masterlist 😩🌊 But could I please have a Madara NSFW alphabet? Or Itachi? It's up to you but... 👀 (I just need the Uchiha men 🥲)

A/N: Awhh I’m so glad you enjoy my writing! I decided on Itachi for the time being, as someone else requested Madara ;) so look out for that one very soon, because I love the Uchiha men a lot too. There will be lots of Uchiha men content on this blog, that I can assure you!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Itachi is soft and caring, and he’ll clean you up and make sure you’re okay. He’ll bring a washcloth and softly clean up the mess the two of you have created. He’ll run you a bath if you’d like, and he’ll wash you and massage you. Then he’s going to tuck you into bed and snuggle closely.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Itachi isn’t very picky. He likes his body just fine, and while his sharingan is amazing, it can be a curse sometimes. Maybe it’s his hair. It’s something that he’s always prided himself in, even if it’s just something that is naturally beautiful for him.

Itachi is a sucker for pretty eyes and a kind smile. He loves watching the way sunlight hits his lover's eyes in just the way possible. He could spend forever just looking deeply into your eyes. And your smile is a reminder of how beautiful the world can be.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Itachi, like the rest of the Uchiha men, has a breeding kink. He gets very weak about cumming deep inside of you. But he’ll never do it without your permission. He’s going to make sure you’re okay with this before he does it. If you let him do it, he’s going to be so happy to share such an intimate moment with you.

For you, Itachi loves to make you cum as much as he can. He doesn’t always have all the time in the world to spend with you, but when he does get some free time, he loves making you cum so he can watch you come undone. It’s so sexy to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Itachi fantasizes a lot about you cumming on his cock. He spends a lot of time without you, so he just thinks about it at night when he’s lying in bed. It makes his cock so hard when he can imagine you bouncing up and down on it, and you’re moaning his name and he’s just so in awe. He really enjoys this alone time in his own mind.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Itachi has no experience prior to you, so you need to teach him a few things. He learns very fast and becomes an expert in no time. He knows your body and he knows how to treat you, so it doesn’t take long for him to know exactly where to touch you to have you panting and begging him to make you cum.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Itachi loves missionary or anything involving you being so close to him. He wants to hold you in his arms while he thrusts into you so slowly and sensually. He also loves the om position(you on his lap) and he’s a big fan of the spooning position too. Sometimes he loves lazy sex so he’ll get behind you and just thrust into you so slowly.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s not funny at all in the moment. He loves to be sensual and romantic with you, so he’ll praise you and call you cute pet names. Itachi wants you to know that you are well loved and that he enjoys every moment he spends with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s got some hair down there, but it’s pretty well maintained. He likes to keep himself clean shaven or at least well trimmed. The carpet does match the drapes of course, it’s very dark and black, but it’s not super coarse. It’s nice and fluffy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Itachi is so romantic. He loves to kiss and caress you all over, and he’ll praise you. He wants you to know how much he loves you. You mean the world to him, and he needs you to know it in case something bad happens to him. He’ll hold you close and whisper sweet little nothings in your ear as he thrusts so slowly and sensually.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Itachi masturbates regularly when he can’t be with you. It goes hand in hand with his fantasies about you. He’ll use his hand and he likes to take it slow and draw it out like he does with sex. He’ll start to think of you at night when he’s alone and one thing leads to another, and then he’s pumping into his hand and moaning your name.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Itachi definitely has a breeding kink. It’s very strong within him, as he wishes to have his own family. He longs for that happy life. Itachi also loves spanking, dominating you(but he can switch too) and he loves marking you(so biting, choking, bruising a little). He’ll never get too rough with you, but he does love leaving little love bites and little bruises from where he grabs onto you when he fucks you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a big fan of doing it in private on a bed. He gets all the time to draw out sex this way. If not, he knows it’s okay to have quickies in places that could potentially get you caught. Itachi is willing to risk that, but he’d rather fuck on a bed. He loves bathtub sex as well, as you can just be warm together and the water makes everything so much more fluid and it feels so good this way.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He needs to hear you say it. He loves it if you lean in towards him and whisper “I want you in me,” in his ear. If you start to rub his thigh and his chest, he’ll be pretty turned on. He also loves it if you start to get a little cheeky, so maybe if you bend over while wearing a short skirt or just flaunting your tits in his face a little.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Itachi will never do anything that will hurt you for real. He’s okay with some pain during sex as long as you are consenting, but he’ll never hurt you for real. He’s also not huge on urine play or scat, as he hates the idea of desecrating you. You’re beautiful, and he can just paint you with his seed instead ;)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Itachi is very weak for blow jobs. If you get on your knees and take his cock out of his pants and just start sucking him off, he’s going to cry out and tug on your hair a little. He loves it when you look up at him through your lashes while you deep throat him. He needs to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

He’s also a huge fan of going down on you. He’ll spend so much time between your thighs, just lapping at your juices and watching your reactions to the different techniques and speeds he uses. He’s very good at reading your body.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s almost always slow and sensual, but some nights he’s feeling a bit more hungry for sex. He’ll pound into you and make you scream his name, all while squirting all over him. He wants you to feel good, and he usually puts your pleasure above his own, but some nights he needs that release. He’ll always tell you beforehand. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

They aren’t his favorites, but he knows sometimes that’s all the time he has with you. He’ll lead you to an empty closet or something like that, and he’ll pick you up so you can wrap your legs around him. Then he pumps himself into you and tries to challenge himself to see how quickly he can make you cum.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Itachi is game to experiment, but he needs to know you are willing to try new things before he does anything. He’s excited about trying new positions or new techniques, but he loves to hear your input on things as well. He knows you’ve got some good ideas, so he wants to use them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s got amazing stamina. He can last a very long time, and he needs very little rest between rounds. He’ll fuck you all through the night and then some in the morning if you can keep up with him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s into toys, but he loves using them more on you than using them on himself. He’s a little vanilla sometimes with sex, but if you want to use a vibrator on his cock while you make out with him, he’s not going to complain. He loves it when you take charge and use toys on him to make him realize how good they are.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Itachi doesn’t mind teasing from time to time, but it takes barely anything for him to melt at your pleading. He loves making you cum and pleasing you, so teasing you isn’t always in his plans. But he also loves the pathetic looks and noises you make when he edges you for so long. It’s worth it when you finally cum hard.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not very quiet, but he isn’t super loud either. He loves to moan and make noise because it really feels so good. He’s not embarrassed about letting you know that he’s having a good time too.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Itachi loves it if you push his face into your tits while you’re riding him. He loves how soft and warm they are and he’ll kiss them and suck on your nipples and it’s honestly something that will probably make him cum so fast! If you want him to cum quickly, just bury his face in your tits.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s lean but muscly, and he’s very well built. His cock is very long, and has a nice girth. It’s not very thick, but still good for stretching you out. It’s probably about 9 inches and has a very slight curve to hit that sweet spot.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a normal sex drive. He loves having sex with you when he can, but he’s busy and he knows it can’t take over his whole life. Don’t worry, he won’t ignore you if you have needs that need to be met. He’ll take good care of you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

A long time. He loves to relish in the moment of just holding you in his arms and how peaceful everything is when you’re just there sleeping. You help keep him calm and comforted.

Mr.Natsuo being your teacher and you purposely flirt with other boys as wear really short skirts in his class to make him ✨jealous ✨and horny , he asks to see you after class and you get fucked on his table 🥺🥺 Sorry I’m on my period and I’m going feral 😃

No, no- never apologize for this! It makes me feral too ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Natsuo Sensei, please come get this pussy ♡

tags/warnings: teacher/student relationship, teacher kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, manipulation, improvised gags

A/N: I wrote Natsuo a bit more rough than I normally do, but I think it turned out okay;;; I also abused the words professor, doctor, sensei, and teacher;;;;

But. Ya know.

Enjoy! ♡

You were fucked the moment you walked into his classroom. Introduction to Human Anatomy and Physiology. 2:30 pm, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Led by Doctor Natsuo Todoroki. An insert into your schedule that seemed harmless enough. Interesting, surely. Something you were a little worried about- what if you turned out squeamish despite your love for all things horror and gore?- and something that would just fill your first semester of college. Harmless. Routine for your major. Nothing to give you any sort of fuss or throw you into a flustered little mess. Or, so you thought. Honestly, you hadn’t given much thought to what your professor might be like. You were more worried over having to share a dorm room with a stranger, if you could handle your class load, how hard it might be to adjust being away from home and all you’ve ever known. You suppose your mind’s eye might have conjured a vague image of a wrinkled and wizened old man with a stern gaze and whitened hair. You suppose you might have faintly imagined Doctor Todoroki to be a tired geezer in a lab coat and faded sweater vest. You suppose you might have had the predetermined, unconscious notion that your professor would be intelligent, elderly, stern and, well, someone who you would only think about in terms of being someone to give you tests and homework and lectures. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to find a smiling, young man with a handsome face and thick thighs, big arms. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to lock eyes with your professor and immediately go weak in the knees under a stormy gaze and a sunshine smile. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to only have your breath snatched away, your cheeks flared with a flush, your heart forced into a thundering staccato.  You didn’t think that Doctor Todoroki would be hot. But, oh god- oh god- he’s gorgeous. Doctor Todoroki- well, Doctor Natsuo or even professor; he seems to prefer those much more than his family name- is, honestly, a living, breathing wet dream. He’s hot. He’s kind. He’s friendly. He’s funny. He’s perfect. The class that you thought would be only mildly interesting turns out to be your favorite. How could it not be when you’re blessed with a full hour of delicious eye candy, a teacher that’s so generous with his praise and has your spine tingling whenever he says your name? He’s so friendly and he’s so polite, too. The way he calls you Miss is a little old fashioned, sure, but it sends your mind reeling and your cheeks flushing- quick fantasies zipping through your thoughts as your thighs involuntarily push together. Your crush springs up from the moment you see him and it only gets stronger with each passing day. Little accidental brushes against you, the smiles he sends your way, the scent of his cologne whenever he leans over your table to correct an answer, the way his praise rings in your ears late at night- it all sends you spiraling. You’ve never had a crush quite like this before. Certainly not on a teacher. You want him, though. Oh, god, do you want him. Your roommate is the unfortunate one that has to hear you whine and moan over him- you’re much too embarrassed to admit your crush to your friends back home or any of your family; they’d be sure to scold you, to call you foolish and chide that you’re a silly little girl. She understands it, at least. That helps, keeps you from being too ashamed. “I mean, it’s no surprise you’ve got a thing for him,” she muses. “He’s young. He’s hot. Anyone would get a little crush.” You don’t like that thought, really. You don’t want to think about others lusting after your sensei. “Why not try shooting your shot?” At your scandalized look, she huffs and shrugs, rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on,” she scoffs. “No need to be such a good girl. Professors hook up with their students all the time. You just gotta be discreet.” “I can’t,” you protest- shaking your head and pulling your knees up to your chest. “And it’s not like he- he doesn’t see me in that kind of way.” “You don’t know that,” she counters with a click of her tongue. Another huff leaves her and it’s easy to see that her patience with the situation is waning. “Either feel it out or get over it or find someone else to moon over. There’s no point in moping and stewing.” You’re not moping. You’re just- you’re just- Okay, you’re mooning over him like she said. But you’re not moping. It’s just- it’s such a new situation for you. You’ve always had crushes on your peers- never anyone older than you by more than a year or two, never anyone in a position of authority over you. A taboo situation like this has never been your cup of tea- you’ve always been a good, sensible girl. Crushes on teachers have never been something you thought to entertain. But now? Well, now... You bite your lip and eye your reflection, nervously touch up your makeup in the bathroom mirror. It’s light and simple but pretty and sweet. Stalking Professor Natsuo’s social medias helped you gain the insight that he seems to prefer his women more natural and cute, innocent looking- all glossy lips and doe eyed, fluttering lashes with just the barest hint of mascara and blush. The false lashes might be a bit too much, but they make you look even more doll like and, that too, is something he seems to like. Pretty. Simple. Doll like. Sweet. Young. You think you’ve managed to put that look together rather nicely. The pleated skirt- just shy of rising above your knees- and the soft cardigan help, too, and, really, you don’t think you’ve ever looked quite so innocent before- even when you were a wide eyed, straight A, pure and untouched student back in high school. ...god, what are you doing? A groan leaves you and you nearly scrub the makeup from your face, nearly rip off the skirt and switch it out for the leggings you have stuffed inside your backpack. Nearly. You don’t think that this is really going to work. You don’t think that this is really going to draw any sort of reaction from him. And, well, maybe that’s what you need? Maybe you need to truly see that it’s a fruitless desire- maybe then it’ll shrivel up and away and you’ll be free from your sinful fantasies, free from the desire that has your head spinning. And, well, it’s been a while since you’ve dressed up a little, too- the rigors of college have had you leaning more toward comfort than style, have kept you too tired and busy to give time to makeup and skirts and a polished appearance. It feels kind of nice being all cute and attractive instead of frumpy and disheveled. ...you’re not going to change. You deserve to feel nice and you’re dying- desperate- to see how your professor will react to you looking nicer than the tired lump you usually display. Just act normal, you tell yourself as you head toward the class- clutching your textbooks tight to your chest. Don’t be too hopeful. Don’t be too excited. Don’t get disappointed. Just- just think of it as an experiment. That’s all it is, right? Just an experiment! You’re just putting a hypothesis to a test! (What a load of crap. It does help to calm your fluttering, nervous heart, though) You swallow as you approach the room and take a deep breath to steady yourself, bite your lip as you eye the open door. You can hear him rustling around and you know that the others will be around soon- you can’t just keep standing there like a dumbstruck, coltish fool. Another swallow, another deep breath. You walk into the room and fix a nervous smile on your face, chirp out a nearly stuttered “Good afternoon, Professor.” He’s faced away from you- broad back greeting your vision as he scrawls something across the blackboard. His head turns, though, and you get to hear an absent “good afternoon” replied back, you get to watch his gaze fall on you. His hand pauses. His snowy lashes blink once, twice, three times. Surprise flickers over his face- evident enough that you can catch it without doubt. His eyes flick down and back up so quickly that you almost miss it, dart away whenever your smile shrugs off its nervousness and grows ever so sweetly. You sit yourself down front and center- right in front of your sensei’s desk. He doesn’t look back at you as you organize your books and gear. He doesn’t look back at you as you primly cross your ankles and rest them to the side, drag a curious, studious gaze along his back. You had hoped for a response, but you hadn’t really expected it- Professor Natsuo has been kinder and more friendly and open than your other teachers, yes, but he’s still been professional. He’s never crossed any boundaries and you’ve never see him give another student the once over. This is...promising. Your cheeks stay flushed as the other students file in, but your anxiousness is gone away. Sure, that little look doesn’t really mean anything but now you’re...well. Now you’re curious. Desperate and needy for some validation of your silly little fantasies, but curious too. Could you...would he...? You wet your lips, unthinking, and keep your eyes on Doctor Natsuo throughout the class- analyzing his behavior, absorbing his words, taking in how his gaze finds you a bit more often than it usually does. Interesting. Encouraging. The next day you wear a skirt that’s a little bit shorter, don sweet mary janes and ankle socks decorated in lacy frills. Steel grey eyes dart to your legs more than once during the class and you even catch your professor tracing his eyes over your hips when he thinks you’re not looking- his reflection in the shining convex mirror hanging above your dissection table showing guilt, an almost nervous tilt to his lips. Oh, you’ve got him. But how do you proceed...? Your worries and frets and protests over taboo desires are long gone- they got dashed away with the first blink of his long lashes, with the first glance over he had given you. Really, you should feel ashamed over discarding your morals so easily, but it’s an exciting situation, isn’t it? It’s nothing you would ever think to find yourself in. But college is all about new, exciting situations, right? It’s about taking chances. God, you hope this is really a chance for you- you’ve never had the opportunity to play a coy game like this before. It’s...fun. High school would have been a lot more interesting if you had known this kind of thrill. You come home smiling ear to ear after a successful attempt at making Doctor Natsuo blush. (A sway of your hips, a flit of your slowly shortening skirts, a coo of his name as you thanked him for such an interesting lesson, a sweet smile and your fingers daring to skim ever so lightly and quickly over his wrist as you walked out of the classroom) The smile on your face has your roommate’s brow quirking, but one look at your outfit has her lips pulling into a smirk- something near gloating on her face. “You shooting your shot?” she asks, already knowing the answer. “Something like that.” You plop down on your bed, smile waning but still present- content as you let yourself get comfortable. She doesn’t offer any more conversation and you’re okay with that- mind fixating instead on how you could possibly further things with your sought after teacher. Things are good, for now- much better than you had ever thought they would be. The little forays into flirtation have been fun, exciting and they’ve even helped boost your confidence- something you hadn’t realized was sorely needed. It’s been fun. And it stays fun- the short skirts, the girly lilt you find yourself injecting into your voice, the soft makeup and sweet perfume, the way you always leave the class with wet panties and a vibrating exciting buzzing through you, the way your teacher’s eyes can’t help but dart over you, the way he breathes in just a bit deep when you get a little too close, the way he swallows whenever you so lightly purr his name- it all stays fun. Fun, but...frustrating. After a while it gets frustrating. Because he doesn’t do anything, not really. He stays a proper, good teacher- something you give props to him for- and he never returns your gentle flirtations, the subtle and silent invitations you push his way. He’s so...professional. It’s kind of a turn on- kind of. It’s mostly just...frustrating. You find your lips dipping into a pout more and more, find yourself sulky and downtrodden. Sure, this has been fun and interesting but you...you want more. You want him. You need him. You’ve needed him for so long it seems. You find your muffled ministrations in the shower getting more and more frantic- your fingers pumping into your cunt relentlessly but giving you none of the relief you seek. When you are able to cum, it’s always with a whimper of sensei or doctor or professor- sometimes even a daring Natsuo. You get restless and impatient, desperate and a little hopeless. If your teacher senses or sees that, he doesn’t say anything- in fact, his gaze seems to avert from the feverish look in your eyes, he seems to pull away from your bold, reckless attempts to get closer to him.  That hurts. That makes you angry. That makes you feel stupid. But he still wants you- or, at least, he still finds you tempting. You know he does- he can’t hide the way his eyes fall on you whenever you walk into the room, he can’t hide the quick glances he lays over you when he thinks no one else can see. You see his hesitance and want. You see it. ...if he’s not going to act on his desires, if he’s going to resist, then you’re going to kick things up a notch- someone has to; you can’t live with this stalemate any longer. It’s not a punishment, not really- it’s just throwing in his face what he’s missing out on. (My, whenever did you become so reckless and cruel? When did you become so desperate?) The ratio of boys to girls in the class is quite staggering- something one would think the university wouldn’t allow for fear of lawsuits. There are three boys for each girl- ambitious, studious, virginal, frantically horny things with expectations piled high on their shoulders and stress wracking their every thoughts. (It wouldn’t be unfair to say they you’re just like them- just sans the virginal part, double the stressed and horny part to make up for it) They’re good boys, for the most part- friendly and tired, nice but none of them quite to your taste or striking enough to jar your fixation from your sensei. Some of them are even handsome- which makes this a lot easier. “Oh, you brought me coffee? Thank you so much, Dai-chan! You’re so sweet!” The kiss you lay upon your classmate’s cheek makes him blush and fluster. It also makes your dear teacher stare- eyes wide and brow furrowed when you flick your gaze his way, his lips twitching as if he’s not sure if he wants to frown or not. The soft giggle you let out does bring a frown- something that deepens whenever one of the other boys comes over to grab your attention, try his hand. You should have thought of using them earlier on- they’ve been eager enough to try to flirt this whole time. Doctor Natsuo, for his part, doesn’t say or do anything- of course he doesn’t. But his usually happy temperament turns a bit tense, a little sour. He doesn’t lash out, not really, but you can see the way his teeth grit and his brow puckers whenever one of the boys dares to lay their hand on your arm, the small of your back. Good, you think- vicious and bitter, sour yourself. Get jealous. “What the fuck is up with Todoroki lately?” “Dude, did you hear how he snapped at Araka?” “Do you think something happened? He seems...stressed.” Your classmates trade hushed whispers as they flee the room, but you don’t think to join them- you stay quiet and soak in their quiet gossip, smile sharply without a look back to your grimacing, frustrated sensei. Just a little more. At this point, you’re not even sure what you want from him- an admittance of his own desires, him hurting and annoyed? You don’t know. You just want something to happen- you need something to break this little silent game apart. You think and think and think over what could raise the situation to the breaking point and, finally, you settle on something simple. The night before your Thursday class, you invite over one of your classmates- Eita; one of the more attractive ones, one of the less nervous ones. Your roommate is gracious enough to stay away (thanks to your offer of money for booze and weed and help with her homework) and you have the room all to yourself. Three beers and some easy flirtations, just a few small touches- that’s all it takes to get what you’re after. You don’t let him fuck you- he’s not worth it, nowhere near what you want- but you let him fumble his hands over you, are kind enough to wrap your hand around his cock while his lips frantically roam and suck over your neck. You don’t let him come until you’re absolutely sure that you have what you want. It reduces him to a whining mess- which, hey, is honestly kind of cute. You rebuff his sweet offers to “return the favor” and send him off with a kiss to the cheek, spend the rest of your night nursing a glass of wine and silently brooding- mind tired and body exhausted, your desires so restless. The next day you dress in a pleated, short skirt that just barely skims the middle of your thighs and fix your hair into a cute little updo, don your now signature mary janes and pull on a brand new pair of knee high socks. The sly comments you get throughout the day are annoying, but easily ignored. You’re impatient through the morning and it only gets worse as Doctor Natsuo’s class creeps closer. You spend the day jittering your leg and biting your lip, checking your phone every few moments and huffing to yourself, clutching at your arms and trying not to pace up and down the school’s halls. Finally- finally- it’s time for your favorite class. You have to force yourself to walk slowly toward it. You have to breathe in deep to quiet your pounding heart, to still your trembling hands. This has to spur something on. You walk into the classroom- skirt swaying, lips hiding your anticipation behind a smile. You ignore Professor Natsuo and make your way to Eita’s desk, plant your elbows on it and rest your chin in your hand, arch your hips up so your teacher can be teased by the sight of your soft thighs and curves, taunted by how just an inch or two of fabric prevents your panties from being flashed. (Is he looking? He has to be looking. He better be looking.) “Eita-kun,” you coo, sweet and loud enough for others to hear, “I had such a good time last night. We should do it again.” Eita’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush. You might enjoy it if you weren’t so distracted by the noise of a coffee cup slamming down and clattering on the desk behind you, if your breathing didn’t hitch so sharply at the fault in your sensei’s composure. Slowly, you straighten yourself to standing and turn around. Professor Natsuo’s face is red and flustered- jealous- when you look and his eyes are narrowed at you, his coffee spilled on the desk. You offer him a sweet blink and a sweeter smile, tilt your head so he can see the blossomed bruise tinting your throat pewter and mauve, a stormy and swirling blue. His eyes widen, his gaze darts behind you. Your smile grows. How do you like that, sensei? Your hands tremble just a little- from nerves, from excitement, from aching anticipation- and you clasp them behind your back to hide them from his gaze, lean forward and peer over his desk. “Are you okay, sir?” you ask him- chirping and so very sweet. “Do you need help cleaning that up?” He stares at you- disbelieving and still so evident in his shock, his envy. Some strangled noise chokes its way up and out of his throat whenever you flutter your lashes his way and smug amusement gathers in you as you watch his jaw tighten, his teeth grit as he tries to gather his composure once more. “No. Sit.” Oh. You’ve never heard him sound like that before. So authoritative, so stern. So hot. It’s your turn to let out a noise- something soft and almost curious, accompanied by flushed cheeks. You obey your teacher and sit down without a fuss- thighs pressing together and already growing damp, lip bitten and eyes half-shut as you watch him silently clean up the coffee. He doesn’t look at you throughout the whole lesson. He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t call on you. He doesn’t smile or laugh or joke around. He’s...cold throughout the class- words iced over and posture rigid, his face holding no warmth at all. You gulp as you listen to him lecture and squirm in your seat- nerves starting to gather and grow despite the way you’re still so very wet between your thighs. You had wanted something to happen. You were determined to force anything to happen. But maybe- maybe you miscalculated. Maybe you fucked up. It’s something of a relief when the class ends. Usually, you like to linger for a few moments, like to stay just a bit longer than necessary so you can grab your teacher’s attention with a question or some sort of compliment over the lesson. Today, though? Today you shoot up from your seat without delay, begin to gather all your supplies as quickly as you can. At least...at least until he says your name. It’s firm, just a little icy. You stiffen at the sound and gulp, look back at him with wide eyes and a nervous smile. Before hearing your name part from your teacher’s lips would send you flying high, but right now...right now your skin is tingling with a giddy apprehension, your fingertips are trembling as you search his face for any hint of what’s to come. “I need to have a word with you,” Doctor Natsuo tells you- eyes boring into yours and keeping you frozen where you stand. “I, um,” you try to weakly protest, “I have to get to my next class...” “It won’t take long.” If he catches your wince, he doesn’t react to it. Professor Natsuo simply leans against his desk as the rest of the students file out- arms folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to display thick forearms. And you? You stay rooted to the spot- heart pounding and eyes still wide, cheeks flushed and thighs damp. When the last student leaves, Professor Natsuo walks over to the door and closes it shut. Click. W-Wait- did he just- “D-Doctor Natsuo?” you squeak out. “What are you- what are you doing?” “I think I should be asking that question.” Oh, shit. Your teacher turns around slowly and the look he gives you takes your breath away. He looks angry and frustrated. He looks pissed. Pissed, but there’s- there’s something more- there’s- “What-” He takes a step toward you, you take a step back. “- do you think you’re doing, young lady?” The whimper that leaves you is equal parts anxious and needy- soft and unwanted. You probably shouldn’t find the growl in his words so hot. Your knees probably shouldn’t knock together and your pussy shouldn’t throb at the snap of young lady. But it’s- you didn’t expect him to be like this. But you- it’s- A tremble wracks through you and Professor Natsuo takes another step toward you. You bump against his desk whenever you stumble back and flinch at the wood that slams into your lower back, gasp and whimper once more when big hands fall to the table on both your sides, when your teacher brackets your trembling form and keeps you enclosed and captive. His eyes are narrowed. His cheeks are flushed. His cologne smells so nice up close, his height has your lashes fluttering and your breathing shuddering as you’re forced to tilt your head back to look up at him with wide eyes. “S- Sir?” “Don’t sir me,” he snaps, crowding closer to you. “I’ve lost my patience with you playing coy.” He’s lost his patience? Your mouth opens to shoot off something probably very stupid, but the words die as a big, cool hand finds your throat and forces your head to a tilt. The touch is beyond expected, has you crying out softly and gripping onto his shirt, almost hyperventilating. The pin prick retraction of your pupils is dramatic and so is your whimpering exhales but, god, this is not what you had expected. “You’ve been toying with me for weeks now,” Doctor Natsuo growls out, his fingers digging into the hickey on your neck. “All your short skirts and little touches, your shameless flirtations- you’ve been trying to drive me mad, haven’t you?” “Pr- Professor,” you whimper out, thighs rubbing together and a moan threatening to sound. “I just- I just wanted-” “You just wanted some attention,” he huffs out- his other hand gripping at your waist and his knee knocking your legs apart. “You wanted to see what would break me, right? That’s why you came in flaunting this today.” Your teacher’s thigh slots between yours and his fingers push deeper into your bruised flesh, his stormy eyes narrow and take in the way you shudder, how your cheeks flush even darker and your eyes start to turn just a bit glossy. A mewl leaves you- embarrassing and so needy, so helpless- and you whine softly after, try to turn your head away so he can’t see the way all your bravado and confidence is melting away into your selfish, needy, hopeless desires. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he demands- forcing your face back to him. He doesn’t look angry now- just frustrated- and your stuttered little gasp only makes his teeth grit, the way your thighs squeeze his makes his breath in sharp and deep. “Go on- tell me.” You- you can’t. You can’t deny him, can’t lie. Not now that things have finally boiled over, not now that he’s finally confronting you. Not now that you’re about to come just from the feeling of his thigh pressing against your soaked cunt. Not now that you’re so close to moaning and falling into a pleading, begging thing. “I- I had to,” you whine. “You weren’t- you wouldn’t-” “Tch.” The grip on your neck tightens and leaves you whimpering, leaves your fingers curling even tighter into your teacher’s shirt. “I was trying to be a good teacher,” Professor Natsuo grits out. “I was trying to keep from taking advantage of you.” Take advantage of you? You would laugh if it weren’t for your wettening lashes, the way your hips are aching and tightening from trying not to grind over your sensei’s thigh. “Sensei-” “Did you fuck him?” he interrupts- fingers dragging over your hickey and hand gripping your hip tighter, pulling you closer and making you whimper, tremble as your cunt is made to glide over his leg. “Don’t tell me after all this time you settled for a boy like that?” You shake your head the best you can- almost frantic with it, flushed and vaguely angry he would even insinuate that you would hook up with someone after you’ve put in so much effort toward him. “N- No! I wanted- I didn’t want- didn’t want him,” you whine, hips jerking despite yourself, a mewl leaving you whenever your teacher’s breath catches. “Sensei, please-” “Fuck.” The groan that leaves him has your lashes fluttering, your lips parting with a soft whine. The hand on your neck moves to your scalp and buries thick fingers in your hair, messes up your updo and sends your hairtie flying. He ignores the protesting noise that leaves you and looks down at you instead- eyes dark with a need that mirrors your own, nostrils flaring as his breathing turns heavy. “You are so naughty,” Doctor Natsuo growls- one hand curling his fingers into your hair, the other smoothing down your waist and to your spread legs. “Filthy little thing.” Filthy? You’re not- you’re not- The hand at your waist moves to loosen his tie and you whimper when he pops open his top button, when he shifts his hips forward and you feel his cock hard on your thigh. “Pl- please, sensei,” you breathe out in a beg- unplanned and so thoughtless, even overwhelmed. “I- I’ll be good! I won’t tell! I just want- I need-” You cut yourself off with a whine and rock against his thigh, look up at him with your wet lashes and flushed cheeks. He groans whenever you whimper and you clutch at him tighter, try to press against him. “I need you, sensei,” you plead- so soft and so desperate. “I need you. I- I promise I’ll be good. I just- I just-” You whimper once more and he groans, grips your waist and sits you on the table rough enough to make all his pens rattle and shake. He slots himself between your spread legs and buries his fingers back into your hair, presses his mouth against yours so fast and hard that it makes your whole world screech to a screaming halt. Your eyes widen and then slam shut, your body goes limp as you whimper and tremble from the way his tongue traces over your bottom lip. You allow your mouth to open and your teacher groans over it, slips his tongue inside and forces you to bend back as he presses closer toward you. Whenever he pulls his head back from yours, there’s a glistening of spit on his lips, a flush to his cheeks. You squirm under his gaze- suddenly so shy, suddenly so flustered- and whine as he stares down at you, arch your back and gasp whenever he forces your head to the side once more and presses his lips to your throat. It hurts when his teeth dig into the already tender, bruised flesh but it sends your mind reeling, has you mewling and reaching to scratch at his back. “Y- Yes! Please! Cover it! Make that mark yours!” The words fly out fast and without any thought, the begging comes from a place you didn’t realize existed within you. You don’t even realize that you mewled such a thing out until your teacher is groaning against your neck, until he’s muttering a, “Fuck- that’s a good girl” right against your throat. If you weren’t so swept up in the situation, you might feel embarrassed. But, you’re not- you’re just gasping and flushed and made even more needy from the praise, from the way your sensei’s hands drag down your sides to grip your waist. Tears blur your vision and a stuttered breath has you shaking, your nails digging deep into soft fabric and clawing over a broad back. “Doctor Natsuo please!” Another groan from your teacher and his hand slips under your skirt, his fingers push your soaked panties to the side and dip into your sopping cunt. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he growls, curling two thick digits and making you cry out. “Hey- shh, shh. Be good. You promised you were going to be good.” Be good? Oh, fuck, you wanna be good. You bite your lip as your teacher fucks his fingers deep inside you and try so, so, so hard to stay nice and quiet and good. He watches you as you try to muffle your whimper behind your hand and you shake from the way he licks his lips, from the way his lashes lower and his gaze turns approving. “That’s it, baby,” he mumbles. “Good girl. Fuck- turn over.” Professor Natsuo backs away and you can’t quite bite back your whine whenever his fingers leave, can’t quite inject any gracefulness in the way you scramble to comply. He yanks you back whenever you’re on your stomach- has your knees knocking against his desk and your hips arching up. There’s no warning when he grabs the plush flesh of your ass and spreads your cheeks wide. Your face flushes and a soft noise leaves you, your thighs press together as you squirm and whimper. “Cute,” he murmurs, squeezing your butt roughly.  “Even better than I imagined.” Imagined? Oh- oh. He- he thought of you. He fantasized about you. Sensei- sensei got off to you. Your cunny clenches and your teacher groans- low and deep and accompanied by the sound of a zipper being pulled down. When you look back over your shoulder at him, his fingers are undoing his tie and you’re left blinking in confusion as he wraps each end around his palms. “Professor...?” “Open your mouth.” You do so without hesitation- lips falling open and fingers curling against the wood of the desk. Professor Natsuo slips his tie between your lips and you whine as it digs into your cheeks, shudder whenever he gives it a tight tug. “Now be a good student for your sensei,” he instructs, gathering the tie in one hand and pulling out his cock with the other. “Quiet and good.” You nod the best you can, but it’s a promise you can’t quite keep whenever his cock nestles between your cunt’s lips, whenever the tip eases into your hole and then slams fully in. You cry out- spit wetting your teacher’s silk tie and his hand laying heavy across your ass, your head getting yanked back whenever he jerks on the tie. “What did I say?” He said- he said to be quiet and good. You have to be quiet and good. A muffled whimper leaves you and you rock your hips back, squeeze around your sensei’s cock with the softest little whine. He groans and his hips pap against you, his dick drives in deep enough to have your toes curling and your lashes fluttering. He’s- he’s big. Bigger than you thought he’d be. Bigger than you dared to imagine. The stretch is- it’s so much. But you’re so wet. You’re so needy. Tiny, strangled whimpers leave you as your professor falls into a rhythm and you shudder, do your best to fuck your hips back against him. That stops whenever he grips your waist with a grunt and you whine softly, still and let your teacher fuck you how he pleases. You take it and you love it, get pushed close to orgasm faster than ever before. You almost collapse when you come on his cock and you hiccup out a whine of pleasure, a muffled mewl of his name. Doctor Natsuo groans as your gummy insides spasm around him and his grip becomes bruising, his rocks get faster- harder. Feels so good! Feels so good! Sensei’s dick feels so good! “Shen- shensay!” “Oh, fuck- god- you’re so tight, baby. Good girl- you like sensei’s cock deep inside you? Is this what you wanted?” You whimper and nod- cheek scrubbing against the desk, cunt gripping his cock like a vice. He grunts and grabs onto your hips, forces your head up and back as the tie drags you and forces your back to arch in a tight, painful angle. Still feels good, though. Still feels like everything you wanted. You want- need- so much more. “Shoulda done this sooner,” your teacher groans out. “Shoulda- fuck!” He slams in you deep enough to have your eyes rolling back, hard enough to have your whole body shaking and your nails clawing across his desk. “C’mon, c’mon- take it- take it! Sensei is- Sensei is gonna fill you up- gonna give that needy cunt what it needs!” He’s gonna- he’s gonna- oh, god! Doctor Natsuo fucks into you faster and faster- the movements jarring you against the desk and making it rock, the jab of his cock rushing you to the height of pleasure again. You cry out as he slams into you- the tie falling from your lips as he drops it and forces you back onto the desk, slides his arms under you and grips your shoulders, fucks into you rough and deep and so, so perfectly. Warmth floods inside your pussy and you whimper as you’re filled with your sensei’s seed, twitch and come on his cock again- lashes fluttering and teeth digging into your lip to muffle your whine, honeyed insides milking his dick as if you need more. You do need more- you do. How could you have ever imagined one time would be enough to satisfy your fantasies? Your teacher pants and grinds into you- hot breath fanning over your cheek and his cock sliding out with a wet pop whenever he draws his hips back. You whimper at the loss but mewl when his fingers draw up your slit, slide back and down onto your knees as exhaustion slips over you. Fuck...fuck, did that just happen? A touch to your cheek has you looking up and you blink hazily at your sensei’s flushed cheeks, the shining and wet cock that he stuffs inside his trousers. “Satisfied?” he asks, slightly breathless and a groan hiding in his voice. “Going to be a good girl now? No more teasing sensei?” You nod, not quite thinking over the action or processing the words, only close your eyes when the slightest smile flits across his lips, when his fingers brush over your cheek and his gaze goes heavy lidded. “Sensei...” His fingers glance over your jawline and down low, stroke over your new hickey and bring a mewl. With your eyes closed, you can’t see the way his expression ripples with something hesitant and something curious, something...greedy. Strong hands help you up from the floor and you shudder as your legs tremble, press against his chest and look up at him with heavy eyes, a yearning that you can’t quite hide. He strokes your hair and it’s...nice. Unexpected from the way he reacted before, so very welcome. “...I was harsh with you.” The apologetic tone is also unexpected. Your professor seems to almost fluster, hesitates as he strokes your hair again and allows his grey gaze to look over your flushed cheeks and parted lips, the desire that you can’t quite hide. “...you were a good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and making you flush even more. “...you gonna keep being good? Not tell?” Of course you’re not going to tell. Of course you’re not going to risk this. You nod without any hesitation and you’re graced with a smile, another kiss that has you wanting to melt against him. “Then in that case...” You blink and watch as he breathes in deep, tilt your head as your heart begins to flutter in your chest. “Come over tonight. I can give you what you want properly.” He wants...he wants you to come over? He wants to fuck you again? You could swear it’s almost a smirk that forms on his face whenever your eyes widen and your breath catches. “I- I...yes, please.” He hums and he steps away- leaving you to stumble slightly and look at him in wonder, an unending adoration that you had pretended wasn’t underneath all your lust for him. “Good. But for now...” Sensei takes a deep breath and then he smiles at you- this time a bit wry, a little amused. “You’re going to be late for your next class.” Next class? Oh- oh shit! A squeak escapes you and you hurry to gather up all your stuff, shove your books in your arms and race toward the door. “Hey.” You freeze as you grab onto the doorknob and nearly tumble into it, look back toward your sensei. “I want you to call me Natsuo when we’re alone.” He- he what? Oh. Oh. You open your mouth, but the trilling of the bell cuts you off and you’re left only with the time to nod and flush, mumble out a soft, “Yes, sir” before you have to rush out the room. You head toward your next class with weak legs and cheeks red from where your sensei’s tie pulled deep into your skin, hair a mess and your teacher’s- Natsuo’s- cum dripping down your thighs. You smile as you rush off to your next class- happy and fucked, eager to see what Natsuo has in store for you later that night.

hi love!!! I would please like to request something so jdneoe please I'm all blushy while thinking but imagine iwaizumi fucking you in front of the mirror in the locker room after hearing the Japan team talking about you, his precious girlfriend, how they would use you as some fucktoy, he knows you deserve way more than that

hajime knows all the players were watching by the door how you were almost breaking from the pleasure he was giving you, too lost in it you didn't even know they were there

pls this is basically mirror sex and unknown voyeurism for the reader 😭😭😭😭

ofc if you don feel comfortable you don't have to do it!! thanks a lot

this is my first-ever request, so as a prize you win a kissaroo from me to u 😘 this was a very fun idea anon, so thank you for sending it in! I was also blushing while writing it ksjdksdduhjd          

actual locker room talk, (semi-nonconsensual) voyeurism, mirror sex, overstimulation, creampie

2200 words

watching -- iwaizumi hajime x reader

He knew it wasn’t your fault; after all, you couldn’t help how cute you were. You couldn’t help the way the fabric of your skirt clung to your hips, the way the neckline of your blouse dipped down when you bent forward, revealing just a little too much skin. You certainly couldn’t help yourself from gazing at your boyfriend with those cute little bedroom eyes each time you visited him at work; it was a look that he learned early on was unintentional, it was simply your natural reaction to seeing him, and it was one of the little things he loved about you. That gaze was reserved for him and him alone, and it only appeared on your face when you thought no one else was watching.

But someone was always watching you; they just couldn’t help themselves, not when somebody as cute as you was wandering around the gym, trailing after Iwaizumi like a lost puppy, your sweet laughter echoing around the room. The looks they caught you giving to your boyfriend, a small indicator of what you were like behind closed doors, made it difficult for them to not fantasize about you.

Iwaizumi knew this, and to some extent he didn’t mind. Having a gorgeous girlfriend inevitably meant that other guys were going to think about her a little too much, but it didn’t matter what they thought to themselves, because at the end of the day it was him that you went home to.

What he did mind, however, was the way they talked about you. Crowded into the locker room after practice, unaware that he was just outside the open door, the team didn’t hold anything back.

“Did ya see what Y/n was wearing today?” Atsumu asked no one in particular. “That dress didn’t leave much to the imagination, huh?”

“Pretty sure she wasn’t wearing anything underneath,” Hinata said.

“Yeah, I saw the way you were starin’ at her,” Atsumu laughed.

“Can you blame me? When she bent over to pick up that ball….”

Someone whistled then, a low, long note. Several other voices murmured their agreement.

“If she’s looking for some balls to hold, I wouldn’t mind helping her out.” More laughter sounded out; Iwaizumi’s jaw clenched. He was frozen on the spot, unable to tear himself away from the disgusting conversation.

“Yeah? Why don’t you tell her that next time she comes around.”

“Bet she gives crazy good head.”

“Girls like that always do.”

“Fuck, I wouldn’t mind hitting that.”

“She’d probably just lie there and take it, too.”

“Not like I’d want anything else outta her, though.”

Their laughter rang out. Iwaizumi had finally had enough, forcing himself to turn and walk away; it probably wouldn’t have been a good look if the team’s athletic trainer wound up putting them in the hospital.

He definitely knew it wasn’t your fault; not you, his lovely girlfriend who had never asked for any of that attention. The fact that you just existing could elicit such disrespectful comments made him feel more frustration than he knew what to do with. More than the knowledge that other guys were thinking about fucking his girlfriend, he was more bothered by the way they had spoken about you, as if you were just a piece of meat, something interesting for them to play with. He knew better, knew that you were someone to cherish and take care of, someone he had gone out of his way to make feel good countless times.

But he also knew that their comments were, in the end, harmless. He certainly was never going to relay them to you, and as long as you could stay happy, blissfully unaware of what was being said about you, Iwaizumi could shoulder the burden of knowing the team’s true thoughts. He had managed to calm himself down by the next time he saw them, and was successfully managing to ignore what he had overheard.

Up until the next time you stopped by the gym.

When he spotted you across the court, chatting innocently to Ushijima and Atsumu, something in him snapped. He was hyperaware of the lustful way Atsumu was looking down at you, the way the muscles in Ushijima’s arm tensed when you playfully shoved him on the shoulder, laughing at something he had said. It was one thing to listen to the team talk about wanting to fuck you; actually seeing it so plainly on their faces was something else entirely.

Before he was aware of his own intentions, Iwaizumi was making his way over to you, putting a protective arm around your shoulders and tugging you away from the others.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice sounding oddly clipped. “Can you come with me for a second?” He was already leading you away before you could respond.

“Hajime? Is something wrong?” you asked, looking up at him. You could see the muscles in his cheek tensing as he clenched his jaw.

“No, baby,” he said, but you weren’t entirely convinced.

“Okay, because it seems like something’s bothering you,” you pressed as he led you into the team’s locker room.

“Nothing’s bothering me.” He pushed your back up against the row of sinks, large hands firmly gripping your waist. “Just wanted to touch you,” he said, head bending down to press hot kisses into your neck.

“Hajime, not here!” you said, but you made no effort to push him away. You sighed, melting into his touch, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt as his mouth moved up to your ear, teeth nipping at the soft skin.

“Why not, princess?” he asked, voice low and husky. “Don’t you wanna see how cute you are?”

Turning you around, he pressed his chest up against your spine, hand weaving into your hair to tilt your head back so that he could kiss down your throat. You stared at your reflection in the mirror with wide eyes, gasping as his teeth sank into your skin.

“Don’t you wanna see what you look like when I’m fucking you?”

Your heart was pounding, legs trembling as his hands roamed over your body, lifting up your shirt and tugging down your bra to reveal your breasts. Your nipples hardened when the cold air hit them; Iwaizumi’s fingers brushed over them, pinching and rolling, making you moan softly.

“P-please, Hajime,” you said breathlessly, feeling his cock pressing into your ass. You grinded back against him, desperate for more contact. The wetness was growing between your thighs, soaking through your panties.

“Hmm?” he hummed in your ear. One of his hands moved under your skirt, tugging your panties down and letting them fall to your knees. “What do you want, princess?” he asked, sliding a finger along your pussy, making you squirm.

“Want your cock, please, baby, need it so badly,” you begged. In the mirror, you saw him grin over your shoulder. He tugged down his shorts and boxers just enough to free his cock, before flipping your skirt up over your hips to get a better view of you. He dragged the head of his cock between the folds of your pussy, his touch teasing.

“This what you want?” he asked, the tone of his voice making you shiver. You nodded, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. He pressed into you, groaning at the sight of your eyes fluttering shut as his thick cock stretched you out. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he bottomed out; you clenched around him, drawing another low groan from his lips. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.”

Iwaizumi loved the look on your face in the mirror, with your head thrown back and eyes squeezed tight, breath coming out in shallow pants as he started thrusting into you. It was clear that you had no thoughts other than how good he felt inside you, desperately wanting him to make you cum; but a part of his mind was thinking of something else. He was thinking about the fact that practice was almost over, and any minute now the team would be heading back to the locker room to find you there, shamelessly moaning from the way that he was fucking you.

“Open your eyes, princess,” he told you. “I want you to look at yourself while I fuck you.” You immediately obeyed, staring, mesmerized, at your boyfriend’s face in the mirror, his dark green eyes boring into you.

His cock was hitting that spot deep inside your cunt, making your whole body tremble. He dug his fingers into your hips, gripping you harshly as he fucked into you. Your pussy was tightening around him, letting him know how close you were getting.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, mouth sucking on the skin of your neck again. “Who’re you so wet for, baby?”

“Y-you, Hajime—oh, fuck—only you,” you gasped out, surprised by how much you were loving being able to watch yourself getting fucked. Your cheeks were flushed, hot breath fogging up the mirror as you came closer and closer to your release. “F-fuck, please don’t stop, baby, I’m g-gonna cum—god!” You had barely gotten the last word out before your orgasm washed over you, eyes closing again at the intense pleasure.

You were too wrapped up in your own world to notice the sound of footsteps getting closer, but Iwaizumi was all too aware of them. He was looking at the door in the mirror when the team appeared there, grinning to himself at the stunned expressions on their faces. He put a hand on your back, pressing you down until your chest was lying flat on the counter.

“You want more, baby?” he asked you, just loud enough for the others to hear.

“Yes,” you moaned, head nodding against the cool surface of the counter. “Feels so good…”

Iwaizumi started thrusting into you harder, the sound of his balls slapping against your cunt echoing throughout the room. You were quickly coming undone, breathing shallow and fast as your nails grasped at the surface beneath you. His name left your lips over and over, begging him to go harder, faster, to give you more.

He loved the way you felt around him, loved how easy it was for him to completely wreck you. Your cunt was clenching so hard around his cock, drawing him back in each time his hips pulled away from you.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured into your ear as one of his hands reached around to play with your clit, the added sensation making your spine arch. “You wanna cum again, princess?”

“Mm hmm,” you whimpered, unable to say much else. You could hardly catch your breath with the relentless pace he set, the feeling of his cock so deep in your pussy making your mind go blank. He was rubbing tight circles over your clit, the friction sending you over the edge again.

With one cheek pressed into the counter, Iwaizumi could see half your face as you were cumming. He smiled at the way your mouth fell open, no sound coming out as he continued to rock his hips into you, not giving you a break for a second. He glanced up at the mirror again to find the whole team still standing in the doorway, watching intently as he fucked you better than they ever could. Several of them were palming themselves through their shorts, desire plain on their faces.

He increased his pace even more, fingers still playing with your clit, making you cry out. Your whole body was shaking underneath him; the sight of it drove him mad.

“T-too much, Hajime!” you wailed, but the look in your eyes as you gazed up at his face pleaded for him to keep going. The overstimulation was electrifying every part of your body, a tingling sensation running up and down your limbs as his cock slammed into you relentlessly.

“One more, princess,” he said, never stopping his movements. “You’re gonna cum for me one more time.” It wasn’t a question or a request, but a clear order. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, even as they watered from the intense pleasure, your vision blurring, body shaking uncontrollably.

“Fuck, fuck! Hajime!” you screamed out as your pussy clenched around him again, eyes rolling back. A string of curses and moans flew past your lips, dissolving into unintelligible babbling. If he hadn’t been gripping your hip so tightly, you would have collapsed from the intensity of your orgasm, knees trembling wildly.

Iwaizumi couldn’t hold back anymore. He leaned down over you, chest pressing into your back and lips latching onto your throat as he came, spilling his load inside of you. “You’re so amazing, baby,” he whispered, his words intended only for your ears.

Panting hard, he pulled out of you, fixing your clothes into place before tucking himself back into his shorts. Pressing one last kiss into the back of your neck, he looked up at the mirror. The hard look he gave the guys still standing in the open doorway was more than clear; without needing a word from him, they all turned to leave before you could sit up and notice them.

Iwaizumi wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in close to plant a kiss on your temple. He led you out of the locker room, grinning at the way the team stared at you in the hallway, their eyes moving to look at his cum slowly dripping down your inner thigh.

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