”snow Lands On Top” Yea On Top Of Me

Go Slow

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: SMUT! p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), riding, (brief) dry humping

Summary: it's your first time and Logan tries to go slow, he really does, but some things just can't be helped

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: i'm not too practiced in smut so sorry if it's shit 😭

Logan knew you were on the shy side of things. During the start of your relationship he’d had to coax words from you, feelings and opinions you held until you felt comfortable enough to share them without being asked. You’d be nervous and fidgety when asking to see him, acting like he was an attractive stranger when he was your boyfriend. 

In all honesty though Logan didn’t mind. He enjoyed your shy, almost naive personality, and was more than happy to wait for you to be comfortable with him before suggesting going any further. 

Sure, it was difficult for him to wait, but not impossible. If his pants tightened slightly when you walked in the room with ridiculously short shorts and practically sat in his lap with them, you didn’t notice. When you were sleeping in bed together and would unconsciously rub yourself against him, causing him to have to leave the bed for a bit lest he did something he'd regret, you remained blissfully unaware. And if he was putting away your laundry and came across a pair of lacy black panties with bows adorning it, you wouldn’t even notice they went missing.

Logan was more than okay to wait.

You, on the other hand, were not.

It started with small changes in you and your actions, though Logan couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. You were more flustered around him than usual, jumpier and shier than you’d been before. You were quieter too, staring at him with more intensity than before, as if trying to read his mind. Yet it wasn’t as if you were pulling away from him, because you were much more touchy and clingy than usual, always needing to hold him and often being the initiator of any make out session you two might have- which is as far as you’d gone.

It was during one of these sessions, having started when you both grew bored of the movie playing on the screen, that you started straddling Logan, kissing him with more fevor than you usually did. Surprised, though certainly not disappointed, Logan kissed you back, hands resting on your thighs and occasionally running up and down them when his control slipped.

When he felt you rock against him slightly he knew something was up. You were never this forward with him, and was always the one to stop Logan when he got a bit carried away. Yet there you were, gently rocking against him while you kissed, moving against his jeans almost desperately, rubbing against him until there was a rock hard bulge for you to move against and Logan had to gently push you off him.

Immediately you started apologising, looking at your hands nervously fidgeting with your t-shirt, refusing to so much as glance at Logan.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright Bub,” Logan said gently. “I just don’t want to do anything before talking about it first.”

You risked a glance at him, trying to find any lie in his face. “You’re not angry at me?”

Logan would have laughed if he wasn’t worried about upsetting you further. “‘Course not. I fucking loved that, actually, but we can’t do it, or anything like that, without talking about it first. I gotta make sure you’re okay with it.”

You nodded your head with such eagerness Logan’s cock twitched in his pants. “I’m okay with it.”

He smiled at your needy demeanour and had to hold himself back from gladly going along with it. “What exactly do you want, Sweetheart? I gotta know that.”

You bit your lips shyly, glancing up at him from your lashes in such a way Logan was tempted to be fucked with all of this and just take you. He’d been waiting for months, however, so he could certainly wait a few more minutes, and restrained himself as such.

“I want to feel good,” you mumbled quietly. “Want you to make me feel good.”

Oh fuck.

Logan wasn’t sure he could handle this. Desire was coursing through his veins, his cock was throbbing almost painfully against his pants as he watched you, shy and naive but so wanting for him.

“Alright Bub, we can do that,” he eventually said, because fuck he wanted to make you feel good too. He wanted you moaning and whimpering his name, whining and panting underneath him because of him.

Yet as soon as he had you undressed and under him he could tell it wasn’t what you wanted. You looked petrified, eyes squeezed shut as you waited for Logan to enter you, and that just wouldn’t do.

“I’m not doing this Sweetheart,” he said, moving away.

You opened your eyes, seeming both relieved and disappointed at the same time. “What? Why?”

Logan sighed, wrapping you up in his arms and kissing your neck. Even with both of you naked it was surprisingly not desire filled and simply comforting. “Because you obviously don’t want it.”

You shook your head and turned around to face him, straddling him in a similar position as before. “I do want it. Just… it felt a bit scary like that.”

Logan thought about her words for a moment before inspiration struck him. “Do you want to ride me instead?”

You actually gasped, your eyes widening at the suggestion, yet he could also see the desire radiating off of you- he could smell it too- and feel the slick coming from your cunt at the thought. He smirked, taking that as a yes.

“I’m going to lift you up and slowly place you down on me. You can stop me at any moment, okay?” he asked you, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with this.

You nodded your head, looking apprehensive but also excited, as you glanced down at his hard on, licking your lips slightly. “I don’t know if it will fit.”

Logan nearly groaned then and there. “It will.”

Hesitant but sure, you let Logan’s hands wrap around your waist and lift you up, positioning his cock at your entrance. He gave you a few seconds to back out, and when you didn’t, staring at him confidently, Logan sunk you down on his cock.

Fuck even just his tip inside you felt like heaven, your cunt squeezing against him. You let out a gasp and he hesitated, waiting, and you slowly nodded your head, giving him the go ahead to continue. He did so gently, making you take him inch by inch, stopping every so often for you to get used to the feeling of him until you’d finally taken all of him inside you.

The feeling of your walls squeezing his cock was heavenly. He could barely think, and all he wanted to do was fuck you hard and fast, chase the release he so desperately wanted. Yet he waited for it to feel comfortable for you, waiting for the pain to ease before he did anything.

“Okay… what now?” you asked in a timid voice.

Logan had to muffle the sound threatening to escape him at the sight of you blinking bashfully at him while he was inside you. It was too good to be true.

“Now you move,” Logan said roughly, because he didn’t trust himself to move and not fuck you viciously like he wanted to.

You thought for a moment before giving an experimental rock, gasping at the pleasure accompanying the action. You repeated the rock again, then again, creating a slow but sure movement that was slowly killing Logan.

Every sway of your hips, the way you rode his cock eagerly if not skillfully, was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it baby,” he rasped. “Just like that, you’re doing so good for me baby.”

You rolled your hips, whining at the praise and closing your eyes but only increasing your motions, one hand moving up to cup your breast. You grounded onto him, gasping when he hit that perfect spot, whispering Logan’s name like a prayer

He swore at the sight, and couldn’t help the jerk his hips made, a small gasp escaping you. It felt so good, the spike of pleasure overwhelming and your readily response too much, and he did it again.

You moaned this time, a dirty, high pitched sound that was ringing in Logan’s ears, urging him on as he took your hips in his hand and lifted you up, only to slam you down on his cock again. Your moan was delicious, and you placed both your hands on his chest, moving forward to make him go deeper.

Logan did groan this time, and used your hips to continue moving you on his dick, his large hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. You were a whining mess, eyes glazed and body limp above him.

“Feel so good,” Logan grunted, thrusting into you. “So fucking good for me.”

You whimpered, gasping as your eyes fluttered closed again. Logan grinned.

“You like that baby? You like me telling you what a good girl you’re being, riding my cock so prettily.”

Your moans came more frequent, panting every second, and Logan could tell you were close. He increased his pace, wanting to see you fall apart in front of him, and wasn’t disappointed by the result.

“Come on baby, cum for me.”

With a cry you threw your head back, ecstasy painting your face as you came, your walls tightening. The feeling of them squeezing Logan’s dick, your cunt milking it for all its worth was too much and he felt himself fall after you, his load of cum shooting into your already stuffed hole.

“Fuck baby,” he cursed, helping you ride out both your highs, moving your hips over him.

You were still panting as you slowly came down from your high, boneless as you laid against Logan’s chest.

“You did so good for me darling,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head.

You let out a sound, nuzzling his neck, and he happily held you against him, pressing kisses to your face and neck till you were ready to move.

You Think I'm-?

Summary: The reader helps a drunken Osferth to bed.

Notes: From number two on this prompt list. Contains drunk Osferth, Finan being Finan, Sihtric being a good bro, and some kisses. Fluff! Gender neutral and entirely undescribed reader. Unbeta'd and unedited. oop

Read on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider giving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

Uhtred’s men had, once again, spent an evening drinking in celebration. And you, one not as fond of ale as the three men, had found them singing in the street. If one could call it that. Their singing resembled far more the shouting and long drawn out cries of startled cows at pasture.

“You best shut your jaws before the alehouse bans you from the place altogether,” you remark, arms crossed as you regard them stumbling through the mud of the street. “Your singing is worse than the innkeeper’s wife.”

Finan laughs heartily, stumbling with Osferth as Sihtric smiles at you, steadying the young monk between them.

“And what would you know of decent singing, eh?” Finan teases. “Always the critic!”

“I’m sure they have a lovely singing voice,” Osferth pipes up, his ‘g’s exaggerated. As he attempts to take a step forward he practically careens sideways, saved only by Sihtric catching his flailing arm. The Dane seems to be the most sober out of the three.

“I think the three of you have had enough ale tonight,” you try not to laugh at the sight. You nod to Finan, making eye contact with Sihtric. “Go on and help the Irishman, I’ll manage Osferth.”

He nods, steadying Osferth on his feet and going around to the young monk’s other side to start herding Finan to the Irishman’s bed.

“Oi, why does baby monk get your help and I’m stuck with the Dane bastard?” Finan jokes, clapping Sihtric on the back, who playfully wraps an arm around his neck in a mimicry of a grapple.

“Because this baby monk doesn’t weigh twice more than a fat dairy cow,” you dig playfully as you sling Osferth’s arm over your shoulder. “And is far more polite than yourself.” Osferth smiles gratefully, sheepishly, at your words.

Finan laughs easily, and before Sihtric can stop him he reaches over and claps Osferth on the back, sending the two of you stumbling.

“He might be polite enough, friend, but watch him! He’s a sly one when a pretty thing like yourself is about!”

Osferth’s head shoots up, eyebrows high at Finan’s words, but Sihtric shoots you a look and wrangles Finan away at last, the two men laughing at something as they turn a corner.

“Come on, ‘baby monk,’” you say, adjusting his arm around your shoulders and you follow the other two men.

The two of you march and stumble your way through the drying mud of the street, nearing the building your party is staying at.

“Thank you for your help,” Osferth says, catching himself on a porch pole when he stumbles sideways, nearly taking you with him. “It’s easy to get carried away when you’ve got Finan egging you on.”

You grin in amusement. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Osferth,” you say, pulling him back onto the road.

You help him all the way to his bed, going as far as tugging his boots off when he drops onto the cot.

“The room isn’t spinning as badly as I expected,” he says. “You don’ ‘ave t’ do that,” he protests, words slurring a bit, but you’re already taking his second boot into your hands.

“Like you could do it yourself right now,” you scoff. “And I’ll not have you muddy up the bedding for whatever poor soul cleans up after guests leave.”

He slouches slightly, trying to hold his leg out straighter for you to pull the boot easier. “But you’ve got mud on your hands now,” he mumbles.

“Hands that I can wash easily enough,” you say, finally yanking the boot free, and putting it aside with its partner. “Stay here, I’m going to get you some water so you don’t die of too bad a hangover when the sun comes up.”

He doesn’t protest, not that you’d listen if he did, and so you leave the room. You wash your hands in cold water from the well outside, and fill his waterskin you’d liberated from his person, as well as your own, before hurrying back out of the cold.

When you return, Osferth is laid on his back. He is still in his robes and his leather armor over his chest, leather bracers still on his forearms. He’s at least undone the belt of his scabbard, though not fully removed it. You scoff, amused at the sight.

“Jesus, baby monk, can’t even get undressed can you?”

He opens his eyes to look at you from his recline, and you approach and sit on the edge of the cot.

“Come on,” you pat his shin. “Up. At least have some water and take off your sword properly.”

He hauls himself up obligingly with a light groan, legs a warm presence against your thigh as he adjusts and accepts the waterskin.

“Thank you,” he says with a gasp once he releases it from his lips.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” you repeat yourself from earlier, nudging him gently.

He grins slowly. “That’s th’ second time you’ve called me pretty tonight,'' he begins to tease good naturedly. “Don’t let Finan hear you say that or he’ll think you mean it.”

“Oh, shush your pious hole,” your face warms and you avoid his all too intense gaze, as lighthearted as his smile is.

There’s a shift in the air, as Osferth keeps watching you, his smile suddenly turning to a slightly openmouthed look of surprise.

“You do,” he says, vocalizing his realization. “You think I’m pre–-”

You act on impulse, shutting him up with the first thing your body finds as a solution before your mind can catch up, pressing a quick firm kiss to his lips. You’ve pulled away before he can process it, and then the two of you are sat there staring at the other with wide, equally shocked eyes.

“I—” you don’t know what it is you’re going to say, how you’re going to play this off, but it hardly matters when his hands embrace your face and suddenly he’s kissing you.

It's a frenzy, all lips and teeth and surprised whimpers and gasps from both parties, the taste of ale and fresh cold water passing from tongue to tongue.

The need for air pulls you apart at last, chests heaving. You aren’t sure when or how it happened, but you find that you are straddling Osferth’s lap, your ankle twisted in the long strip of cloth that makes up the front of his robes. His hands are on your hips, steadying you, and your hands are on his shoulders.

He stares up at you, eyes wide as yours must be, both faces an expression of surprise.

“Uh—”

“So—”

You both start at the same time, and then you burst into a fit of nervous laughter. “Oh, God,” you say, covering your mouth as you try to stop from laughing too loudly. “Finan was right.”

The smile that had been spreading at your giggles turns into a confused frown. “About what?”

“You’re sly,” you chuckle, pushing at his shoulder to show you’re only teasing. “How did I even get on top of you?”

“Dunno,” he grins again, loosening his hold on your hips as you try to untangle your foot from his robes.

You shoot him a stern look as you finally free yourself and stand clumsily. “Are you even drunk?”

His eyebrows shoot open. “Wh– yes–!”

You push at his shoulder again with a broad grin, and he falls back despite it having only been a playful nudge. “Good.” You collect your water skin and straighten your clothes, smiling to yourself.

“You’re not staying?” He asks from the bed, shifting about to lay properly on his side. When you look at him he almost looks disappointed.

“I’m not going to hump you for the first time while you’re drunk, Osferth,” you cock an eyebrow.

Both his eyebrows raise again, and he shifts on the arm that has him propped up on his side.

“And I don’t want to be caught by Finan in the morning,” you admit. “Another time, baby monk.”

His face turns pink when you grin at him, closing the door behind your exit.

I’ve been seeing people vastly misunderstanding the whole point of the shootout scene, so I want to share my analysis here. It’s not just a redemption for Chishiya, and not just a way to make Niragi seem deep and complex. It’s a way to compare the characters of Arisu, Chishiya, and Niragi, and show their adaptability to change.

To begin, the initial main focus of it all is Chishiya. He has just left the King of Diamonds venue, and has realized that he is jealous of people like Kuzuryuu who are able to die happily with a purpose. He is seeking to speak with someone, to open up about his inner turmoils. That is when he gets caught between Arisu and Niragi, two ends of a morality spectrum he is struggling to find his place on.

Now, why does Niragi start this shootout? He says that he, Arisu, and Chishiya are all too similar, and due to this only one of them can live (although, it is later evident that it is for this very reason all three of them survive). Niragi doesn’t say they are similar in regards to their actions in the games; he says this in regards to how they are all inherently selfish people at the core. They put themselves first and foremost, whether intentional or not, and hurt those around them as a result.

For Arisu, this makes more sense in the context of his manga characterization. Manga Arisu has the unintentional tendency of doing things for his own sake when he thinks he has the group’s best interest at heart, and his speech mannerisms mainly revolve around his own feelings. He is selfish without realizing it. The shootout finally makes him conscious of this, and makes him want to remedy this. He is adaptable to change for the better.

For Chishiya, this has been evident from the beginning. He will manipulate and use others for his own gain, without worrying what happens to them afterward. He never goes out of his way to help others, but at the same time never directly hurts them either. He has and recognizes this selfish indifference towards all facets of life. However, the games make him envious of people like Arisu, who are adaptable to change.

For Niragi, it has always been obvious how he embraces his selfishness. He enjoys going out of his way to hurt others and make them suffer. He becomes the abuser to keep from being vulnerable. He is the oddball out of the three, because despite everything, he does not want to change.

Their selfishness is just the example that Niragi gives, but there are other things they have in common as well. Their upbringings, for one – they all lacked love and affection in their home lives. What makes them different in this sense is that Arisu had Chota and Karube to hold him up, who made him more friendly and optimistic towards life. Chishiya had no friends, but no enemies either, which led to his indifference towards life. Niragi had abusers, which led to his hatred and resentment towards life. There’s also how they all initially wanted to stay in the Borderlands; Arisu because he wanted to avoid his real world responsibilities, Chishiya because he was intrigued by the intellectual stimulation and death of the games, and Niragi because he could thrive in a world without laws. But they all eventually came to the realization that they wanted to leave; Arisu first due to escaping and finding a reason for living, Chishiya next due to realizing he needs to reject the offer to truly change, and finally Niragi not because he changed, but because he simply wanted to live.

As you can see, they are all similar characters at three different levels of intensity. Arisu at level one, the level where he is still capable of goodness. Niragi at level three, where he is too far gone and considered evil. Chishiya is stuck in a morally gray area between the two, trying to figure out where he should place himself.

Anyways, back to the shootout. Chishiya came here to talk to Arisu because he wanted to change for the better. But then Niragi came and pulled him backwards, halting his progress. The shootout is a battle of moralities; a push-and-pull between Arisu’s good and Niragi’s evil.

The whole point of this scene was to give all three of them time for introspection. Who are they currently, and who do they want to become? Niragi’s comment about all of them being similar spurs their answers. Arisu is disgusted at the realization of being so similar to Niragi, so he quickly puts his gun down and pledges to change. Chishiya is inclined to distance himself from Niragi once he sees Arisu’s resolve, and only puts his gun down to become uncharacteristic and save Usagi. And Niragi, upon seeing the other two take this chance to renew themselves, realizes that he was foolish to believe anyone could be like him in the first place. He truly is alone in this world, and he only has himself to blame for it. He never lets go of his gun – he fires. And in that split second, why does Arisu pick his gun back up after vowing to change? He does it to save Usagi. To not be selfish and shoot Niragi out of his own hatred, but for the sake of saving Usagi’s life instead. Saving Usagi is the turning point for Arisu’s character, and for Chishiya as well. Niragi’s attempt to kill her demonstrates how he never wanted to change to begin with.

So yes, Niragi was right in saying they are all similar in terms of their selfishness. But he was wrong to believe that they were kindred to him and could not change.

TLDR; all three of them are foils, bound together by their inherent selfishness. This shootout is the defining scene for their characters. Arisu is adaptable to change, Chishiya struggles with his alignment but ultimately chooses to change like Arisu, and Niragi was never meant to change in the first place.

Treacle Tart | Hobie Brown

SUMMARY: Underneath the mask, his eyes widened. Hobie wasn’t often surprised. His abilities would ease the pain quicker than most, but you were right; a hospital would help. But his abilities, the parts that felt like instinct, took over. The threat was taken care of, and he swung and swung, furthering himself from the aftermath only to find himself seeking you out in the end.

PAIRING: Hobie Brown x gn!reader

WORD COUNT:1.5K

WARNINGS: mentions of injuries, canon-typical things, cockney slang coming from an American, established pining, a smooch, etc.

A/N:  I just say the new movie and wrote this in one sitting, so mind the errors and lack of coherency. This is ENTIRELY inspired by the lovely @strangesem​​‘s headcanons (find here). Enjoy. Slang used: Day’s a-dawning - Morning / Duck and dive - hide / Treacle Tart - sweetheart

Keep reading

˚ ⟢ .˚ 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄 ˚. ⟢ ˚ 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

[ oscar piastri x fem!reader ] - REQUESTED

┈⋆⭒ summary. after accidentally discovering one of your boyfriend's kink, you can't wait to try it out with him.

┈⋆⭒ word count. 2.3k

┈⋆⭒ tags. smut, pegging, slight fem!dom

⌇WARNINGS. none ‹𝟹

You hadn't meant to, really. You had forgotten to send an important email to your boss and were too lazy to get your laptop from downstairs; so you took your boyfriend, Oscar’s, laptop and opened it before typing the password in. It’s not like he had anything to hide or even that he didn't know that you sometimes used his computer: he was literally the one to share his password with you. But as your eyes widen at the video playing on the screen, you're beginning to feel guilty for peeking into Oscar's personal stuff. 

Before your eyes is a video of a couple, naked, on a bed. Now, you were not a prude, and with all the travelling he did, all the time spent away from you, it was not strange to learn that he might occasionally watch these kinds of videos but the fact that he was watching porn was not what shocked you about this. No, the man on the screen was on his knees, muffled moans and whimpers coming from where his head was hidden in the pillow. The woman was behind him, a blue dildo strapped to her hips buried deep inside the man’s ass as she stroked his cock. 

"Taking me so well honey, such a good boy for me." The woman’s voice is sultry as she praises the trembling man beneath her. She’s folded over his back kissing his shoulders as she jerks him off faster, never letting the movement of her hips falter. "I’m gonna come, mistress" The man whines and before he starts shooting ropes of white onto the bed, you close the laptop, your cheeks burning from embarrassment. Or was it desire? You weren't sure then and still weren’t sure once the strap-on you had ordered immediately after this discovery had arrived at your apartment. 

You hid the box inside your closet, your mind racing with dirty thoughts and a bit of doubt: what if he had been watching just out of curiosity? Even worse, what if he had watched it with disgust? What if he ended up being weirded out by how wet the idea of fucking him made you.

—

You'd almost forgotten about it until the winter break came. He had spent the first few days of his time off with his family in Melbourne and had planned to spend the rest of the break with you, in your shared flat. You loved seeing your boyfriend achieving his dreams and if you were honest, getting to visit multiple places around the world was not too bad either but lately, you really had embraced the calmer, more domestic lifestyle with the racing driver. You were currently seated on the couch across from Oscar, watching— or in your case pretending to watch— some boring Netflix show. You kept glancing at him, trying to find the courage to ask him about what had been plaguing your mind since all those months ago. 

"What's up?" He finally asks, realizing you weren't going to ask him about what was bothering you anytime soon.

Your eyes go wide; a deer caught in the headlights. You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding and slowly turn your entire body to face him. 

"Okay, well. Please don't be mad." you start, he furrows his eyebrows, urging you to go on, "I- I saw what you were watching a few months ago, I didn't mean to!" You quickly add. The poor guy looks completely puzzled. "The porn." You say, feeling your cheeks growing hot. 

He seems even more confused, "Baby, what the hell are you talking about?" 

"The pegging!" You say, louder than you anticipated.

He swallows thickly and starts looking for his words as his entire face flushes a deep shade of red. 

"I– uh…"

"It's fine! It's okay, really, I don't mind– I mean it looked kinda hot." You say, sheepish. 

"Oh." He says, although still not meeting your eyes. 

An awkward silence follows, both of you looking for what to say. 

"I, uh–" You get up from the couch and make your way to the bedroom, "Come." 

You stop when you're in front of your closet and look back at him.

"I- I bought something, a while ago. After, well, you know. I think– I'd like to try it." You tell him, pulling the box from the depths of the closet and handing it to him.

His eyes widen slightly and he looks up at you before taking the box. He opens the lid and pulls the contents of the box out, his eyes growing even wider when he sees the dildo.

"Oh." he breathes.

"What do you think?" Your voice is slightly uneven, still afraid he's going to laugh and tell you it was all a stupid joke.

"Um–" He's beet red as he sits on the bed.

"We don't have to do anything, if you think it's weird, we can just... forget about it. I–" You start rambling. 

"I-I've never done that before, you know." He cuts you off, still not looking at you.

He's eyeing the toy and you realize he wants this as much as you do, perhaps even more, but you need him to say it.

"Me neither," you sit next to him on the bed, "do you want it?"

"Yes," he admits after a moment. 

That's all it takes for you to straddle him and press your lips against his. He responds immediately, opening his mouth for you to slip your tongue in. You moan as he places his hands over your ass and you start grinding over his already hardening bulge. You pull back, a string of saliva still connecting your lips.

"Strip." 

You're not used to ordering him around, especially not in bed, but the way he immediately obeys, once you get off his lap, scrambling to take his clothes off makes the blood in your veins feel electric. You look inside the box, pulling out the harness.

"Lie down."

Once again, he does as he's told, lying back against the mattress. You take your pants off and step inside the harness, adjusting the straps to fit you comfortably. You turn around, your breath catching in your throat at the sight: He's already panting, his chest is flushed and his hair is dishevelled. You follow his happy trail with your eyes until you reach his hard cock trapped between his fist, as he tries his hardest not to just start stroking it. The tip is glistening with precum and you can feel yourself dripping onto the inside of your thighs as you watch it leak along his length and into the light hair at the bottom of his shaft.

"Fuck." You groan before biting your lip. You take your shirt off and kneel on the bed, in front of him.

You kiss him softly, cupping his cheeks before running your hands down his sides and settling them on his thighs, parting them gently. You place a kiss on his nose, then his jaw and finally you start kissing and sucking at his neck. You lick his pulse point, enjoying the whimper you elicit from him.

"Please-" He breathes out.

"Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want." You whisper in his ear, nipping at his earlobe.

"I- I want you to fuck me."

You smirk against his skin and kiss his shoulder.

"Yeah? I'm going to open you up first, make sure it feels good when I get my cock in you." You're not sure where this sudden confidence comes from but when Oscar's hips buck up involuntarily at your words, you can't really seem to care anymore; you just want to make him feel good.

You grab the lube from the bedside table and pour a generous amount on your fingers, warming it up slightly before reaching down to rub circles against his entrance. He shivers at the contact and you replace the hand he has around his dick with your other one. You look up into his eyes.

"If you want me to slow down, or even stop everything, tell me and I will." You tell him and he nods as the tip of his ears turn pinkish.

"Fuck." He swears as you sink your finger into his hole.

"Good boy." You praise, feeling him clench down around your index as you push past the ring of muscle, slowly easing your finger in and out of him, trying to get him to loosen up. "That feel good?"

He hums, "Yes, fuck, don't stop."

You get back to it and after a while, you enter a second finger, curling them immediately hitting his prostate. His mouth falls open and a loud moan fills the room.

"That's it, baby, let me hear how much you love it." You say as you keep grazing the same spot over and over and slowly twisting your fist around his length, making his eyes flutter as his back arches slightly from the bed. 

You keep stroking him rhythmically, squeezing your thighs together, trying to ease the pressure forming between your legs as the sounds of your slick fingers pushing into him and his moans, groans and whimpers fill the air. Suddenly his eyes widen and he grabs both of your wrists, halting your movement inside him and around his length. 

"Fuck, stop. I’m gonna come." 

You smirk, a spark of pride growing in your chest from getting him already so close to coming. 

He's looking at the silicone cock hanging heavily between your legs: arousal and nervousness painted on his face. You drip some lube onto your strap, stroking yourself slowly and giving him your best bedroom eyes. 

"Shh, relax my love, we'll go slow," you promise as you get closer between his thighs, "if at any point you want me to stop–"

"I'll tell you." He finishes for you. 

"Good boy." You whisper in his ear, making him choke out a whine as a light blush spreads across his chest and neck.

With that, you peck his lips gently and put your hands on his thighs, keeping him open for you. You watch his hole flutter in anticipation and pour more lube onto your cock before nudging the head against his rim. You look up at him and he's got his eyes squeezed shut and his head anchored to the pillow. You push in slowly and watch his face contort into a grimace.

"You're doing great." You reassure him and he nods his head slightly, his lips still sealed into a tight line. 

As you push another inch in, you grab his cock, stroking him softly and rubbing slowly the spot under the head, trying to appease your tense boyfriend. 

"You're being so good for me, baby." You tell him as he starts relaxing.

You're about halfway in and you can't believe how aroused you are, even though you can't actually feel any pleasure from the strap.

"How does it feel?" You ask him, slowly continuing your intrusion inside his hole.

"Feel so full." He whimpers.

"Yeah? You're taking me so well my love."

You lean over his body and press your lips against his. When your hips meet his ass, you stay there, allowing him to adjust.

"Fuck," he whispers after a moment, "you can move, please."

You kiss him again and slowly start pulling out of him before thrusting back in, slow and steady only picking up the pace when he starts moaning and gasping under you.

"So pretty like this. My pretty boy, letting me fuck his pretty little ass."

He throws his head back, his mouth wide open, a low groan rumbling through his chest. You lean back, lifting his thighs and changing the angle in which you're drilling into him. He can't help the yelp that comes out of his mouth as you hit his prostrate straight on.

"Fuck! Right there. Please don't stop."

"There? Does that feel good, baby?"

He can't answer you, his brain going fuzzy with pleasure.

"Tell me." you order, "Does. It. Feel. Good?" You emphasize your words with a few thrusts of the hips.

"Yes! Fuck. Please, more."

You smirk and speed up, the sound of your hips slapping against his thighs echoing throughout the room, accompanied by the gorgeous sounds coming out of his gaping mouth. He's writhing in pleasure and you lean into him, leaving wet, open-mouth kisses against his jaw and his neck. 

"I'm close." He moans.

"I know baby, you want to come on my cock?"

He's still blushing, his eyes screwed shut and his fists tangled in the sheets, his knuckles white from the strength with which he's holding them. You wrap your fist around his length, making him look up at you and fuck, you wish you could take a picture: His hair is plastered on his forehead, his eyes are dark, his pupils blown and his lips are parted, a thin layer of sweat coating his entire body.

"You're so gorgeous, Oscar."

He closes his eyes once more and you kiss him hard, intertwining your fingers with his, holding his hand beside his head on the pillow, not slowing down your hand on his cock as you put every effort into your final thrusts, feeling his cock jump inside your fist, his orgasm quickly approaching. 

"I'm going to come, baby," he whines

"Go on, come for me." 

And just like that, his body goes rigid as he releases his load into your fist and all over his stomach. You stroke him through his orgasm until his entire body is jerking underneath you because of the sensitivity. You stay there for a few minutes, both breathing heavily, regaining your composure. 

You finally, carefully pull out of him, making him wince a bit before unlatching the harness from your hips and lying beside him.

"Was it okay?" You ask him, your initial doubt showing up again. 

He looks at you, an exhausted but blissful expression painted on his face, "It was better than okay, thank you." He says before pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. 

"Good," you mumble into his chest, "'cause we're definitely doing this again."

"I can't wait."

hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

Grishaverse,

Warrior Nun was able to be brought back. I don't know the legal specifics of the contract Eric and his team have with Netflix but we need to fight for someone to save this show. please let's trend #saveshadowandbone !

can i request some slutty luffy? just fuck me up fam ☠️

AHH i think this is so beautiful and one of my fav smuts i’ve written!!! :’)

hunger - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: luffy gets incredibly horny, and he’s confusing lust with hunger

contains: mating press, praise, marking (reader receiving)

words: 2.4k

_______________________________

Luffy’s alone. He thinks, right now, of touch. And his body is sweaty from the day and from his yearning mind, he’s shirtless because an hour ago he lit on fire beneath his skin, he’s been simmering ever since, and it’s healed, somehow, by touch. So his fingers dig into the grooves of his abs, he likes to feel them flex and shift as he traces every corner, mouth open, drooling onto the glass of the porthole. He left his bed an hour ago when he lit on fire beneath his skin. His blanket became too hot, his mind too full to fall asleep. He’s thinking about food now, juicy fruits that drip down his throat, melted cheese, the greasy, fatty pieces of steak that slide so slowly along his tongue.

He rubs his stomach because he’s hungry, that’s it. There’s a burning within him, starvation but if it was beautiful. He needs food right now but he knows, somehow, that food won’t do anything for him, not really. And if he rubs his stomach because he’s hungry then why does his hand go lower, down beneath his waistline, tugging at the hair down there because, why? Why does this feel good? Why is he moaning, little whimpers that fog the glass, what does he need? He thinks of touch. Skin on skin. That’s it, skin on skin.

You’re probably alone. Moonbeams sail one by one from the east with the wind and blackening sky as the sunset turns lilac, fading, gold waves turning silver, copper. Translucent silk the color of the sunset hangs from your shoulders, a slip so loose it barely covers your chest. It isn’t cold tonight and you’re not tired. You saw dolphins this evening and you wonder if you can see them again before the water disappears in the night. Everyone else is already asleep. You hope that when you’re tired you can find Luffy, who’s probably asleep, and curl up with him as everything drifts away.

But as the ocean laps at the ship and you’re calmed by the gentle rocking you feel, suddenly, arms from behind. Arms that run over yours, hands massaging your wrists up to your shoulders. A distinct smell, the feeling of hot rubber, this is Luffy and he’s so, so warm. And his breathing is so heavy in your ear. He places his chin on your shoulder and it’s covered in drool, he begins to slowly lick your neck as he pulls you closer. You haven’t even said hi before he has you in his lap, squeezing your waist from behind. His licks turn to kisses, and then to bites, all over your upper back and then a wet, raw trail up to your jaw. He’s groaning with want, no words yet, he has too many things he wants to say.

“Hi Luffy,” you murmur with a little smile, reaching back to pet his face which is burning up and flushed. His tongue laps your cheek, he’s an excited puppy, you feel his teeth now so you ask gently, “what’s up?”

“Gonna eat you,” he says in a quiet, gravely voice, right into your ear. He whines after this in desire, in hunger, he’s lustful and desperate.

“Yeah?” You lean back against him. His arms are so tight, he’s trying to wrap you up and crush you like a python. And you can feel his heartbeat race in every muscle.

“Mh, ‘cause you’re real pretty. And I’m hungry so I’m gonna eat you.” He’s almost trying to take a bite out of your neck now, his teeth are sharp but his tongue is soothing, he moans because he likes the flavor. “Real pretty…” he hisses again beneath his breath.

You turn so you’re facing him. He needs a kiss right now and he doesn’t hesitate to grab your face and dive in, writhing tongue slipping greedily between your lips. And there’s a gentleness here too, his hand moves to the back of your head, stroking your hair adoringly. He isn’t going to hurt you he just needs you so, so bad and he doesn’t really know how or why or what he should say.

“God, Luffy.” You’re quiet, muffled by his mouth. And just hearing your voice again clouds his mind.

“Love ya, love ya so much,” he says in between moans and kisses. His nails scrape at your chest, delighted by softness, something to grab onto, more to squeeze. “I wanna play, please can we play?”

Trying to get on top of you he’s leaning over you and pulled by instinct, he wants you straddling him but he wants to be on top at the same time. He’s just a tangle of limbs right now, saliva dripping messily onto your neck.

“Of course I’ll play with you.” You’re blushing, eyes closing but he’s squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look at him, huge sparkling eyes as deep as the Mariana look down on you.

Luffy begins to laugh. Just a breathy giggle at first, blowing air between his teeth in a little joyful hiss. And then his mouth opens, he laughs more, louder, that’s what he does when he’s excited and when he knows he’s about to get something that he wants so, so bad. And then it fades to giggles again, and he stills for a moment, no movement except his chest. Rise and fall, rise and fall. He’s just looking at you.

And then he licks his lips. He dives in.

You make a small sound, surprised and unable to react in time, as Luffy plants his feet firmly on the deck, your thighs slamming his stomach as your legs are thrown over his shoulders. And you’re bent, folding tighter and tighter as Luffy crouches over you. His arms encircle your legs and your back and your waist and constrict again, his legs are spread and ready, twitching, hips pressing yours. He’s forgetting, probably, that you aren’t as flexible as he is.

“This is good, Lu, this right here,” you manage to choke out because you often have to remind him what your body can and can’t take.

He mumbles a little apology and does a once over with his eyes, he wants to make sure that you aren’t hurt but, at the same time, he’s letting his gaze linger on your body, on the silk slip that’s fallen as your waist curls upwards and your breasts are bare now, so delicious, he’s drooling again. You’re tasty, you’re his.

This must take so much strength, the way he’s perched on his toes over your body, his thigh muscles clench and ripple against yours. Shared sweat, shared warmth. His balance is perfect even as he reaches for your chest, rubbing, holding, kissing, now he’s kissing your lips, now your neck. He doesn’t want this ever to be over.

And he says, “I love ya so much.” That’s the third time he’s said it.

“I love you too,” you say with such joy even as you’re breathless still, but before you can finish he’s pressing his mouth to yours hungrily. You said you loved him and he wants to taste it — the flavor of those words — it’s all-consuming.

“Tastes so good, mmh,” Luffy gasps as he takes you into this hot, wet kiss, “can’t wait, wanna play now.”

You’re not sure how he did it from this position, but his pants are off, kicked to the side. His cock is aching and leaking already and smoldering against your stomach, you can see it from here, throbbing and waiting, skin so smooth and thin and perfect like auburn moth wings over red-hot iron.

His chest crashes against yours in a tidal wave now because this new vulnerability makes him want to be closer. Now you can’t see it anymore but god, it’s so hard it feels like he’s denting you, so long and thick like a python, he’s still holding you, and squeezing more and more. Like a python.

With so much pressure he wraps his hands around lower, lower, snapping your panties, thrusting against your stomach in a way that shakes your body but he’s got you. You’re in his arms.

Begging eyes so close to yours, mouth on your lips and cheek, breathing so fast and so warm and he whispers, “can I?” And it’s so scratchy and kind and needy so deep in his throat.

So you pull his hair, you kiss him, yes.

Rolling back on his heels he finds his way, sloppy thrusts that don’t quite make it but god when they do, he isn’t going all the way even though his every nerve craves you but you’re his baby and he can’t hurt you.

Thick tip so soft and gentle, butterfly wings and flowers, impossibly hard and aching in heartbeat rhythms against your clit, moving you with every pulse, searching and desperate like a moth to a flame he finds you.

Shivers that make you clench your legs against his shoulders as he rubs and rubs back and forth and hugs your body and bites your cheek and murmurs, “that feel good? Ya like that?” with such curiosity like he really wants to know, he wants an answer.

“Perfect, so perfect. Please, I need you.” Words in his ear like shooting stars lighting up his body like the darkening sky. He’s made of ochre sunbeams.

He smiles and laughs and with another quick kiss he’s finding you more. Muscles flex and as he leans forward onto you he’s there, right there. He starts to moan loudly and whisper about how happy he is but it’s Luffy so it’s not a whisper, really. He’s not even inside you yet. He’s just so, so excited.

“Feels so good, so good. C’mere,” he giggles against you happily and makes sure he holds you as he’s pushing into your body, you’re filled in an instant and more and more every second.

Amid the panting and moaning you can almost hear that heartbeat and those pulsing veins buried in you. You’re dented again but from the inside now. With a little mh, Luffy finds his home so, so deep. You’re in a cocoon of warmth, wrapped in the sun, filled by the sun, melting.

“My girl’s so pretty, gotta bite, gonna bite.” Those teeth again and their practiced, hungry chewing. He swallows on instinct, abs vibrating and tightening against your skin as his stomach purs. And he’s rocking into you, back and forth on his toes, enjoying that deep, tight massage. He’s inside you, he’s trying to eat you, trying to get you inside him, too.

You’re going to be covered in marks but that’s ok. You like hearing him groan and laugh against you, and something about that swallowing, his throat flexing against your shoulder, that’s so beautiful to feel.

“Mine, ‘kay? Mine.” Luffy’s talking the whole time through his laughter and you’re swept away by him as he continues to crush your body from the inside over and over, tidal waves on a cliff’s edge, he makes whirlpools in you.

“This is so fun, you’re so fun, so pretty,” he keeps huffing and you hear this over and over as he squirms and wriggles on your body, thrusts shallower because he can’t bear to pull out of you any more than he needs to. Luffy wants to be close and never leave.

He tries to have conversations with you that just spill into unending praise. You’re too dizzy and lost in this world of feeling to respond most of the time but you kiss him whenever he wants, you tell him he’s beautiful and that he feels so good whenever your voice is there.

He’s swelling in you, veins bulging and rubbing so far up inside you that you feel him throbbing in your stomach, his twitching cock encouraged by your clenching, leaking, every muscle wracked with craving and overstimulation.

“Gonna fill you up ‘cause you’re real pretty,” he laughs against your lips, twisting into you deeper still, “gotta make ya all mine.” He still sounds so sweet and so soft, just a playful little puppy.

Even as he groans and begins to pump you full.

Love feels like this, love is raw and endless like this, love makes you float away. You close your eyes and now he lets you, you just hold him, you let the rhythm carry you and it feels like so long until he’s done. He doesn’t want to pull away but his legs give out. His knees finally hit the deck, he squeals in delight as he’s pulled from you with a wet little sound. But he’s still hugging you, of course.

“Heh, felt so good.” Luffy’s smiling with all his teeth, his chin sparkles with saliva, and your neck is dripping too, “thanks, darlin’. Love ya so much”

“Love you too. I love you, Luffy.” You don’t want to ever leave from his arms and you feel so empty now. But you’re soaked in him, neck and thighs both shining.

His hand rests gently on your back, helping you sit up, your slip falls back down over your body and it’s all wrinkled now. Luffy smooths your hair, he pets you, now is when he just wants to stare at you and not say a word. But when he sees the blooming red and purple trailing from your ear to your collarbone he starts to shake a little bit.

“Aw, this ain’t hurtin’ right?” he murmurs, tracing the bruises and teeth marks with his fingers so softly, carefully. There’s no blood, it’s just glossy with layers of drool, he’s proud but he needs to check on you first.

“No, it’s not bad. Don’t worry, I like it.” You kiss him right next to his mouth but he turns, quickly, because he wants your lips. “Whole crew’s gonna know I’m yours, that’s all.”

This makes him smile. He sees no reason for embarrassment or shame, you’re his so he can bite you when he wants. You feel his muscles twitch against you again as he laughs. And he’s flushed all red, hibiscus on his warm honey skin. Those eyes, dark brown eyes melting with that lavender of the sunset which is almost gone now, fading silently. So orchid blue then, on loving, deep Bulgarian rose.

“Good! I want ‘em to.” he rubs his head against your cheek, still biting just a little. And now he’s moving like he wants to pick you up and carry you, even though you’re both tired. But it’s because he’s hungry, and in that throaty little voice he asks, “wanna go get snacks?”

'taking it'

tags: sort of non-con, dark!coriolanus snow (?), fem!reader, implied sex, smut, unedited

You gasped, as Coriolanus pressed his body against yours with unrestrained passion. His movements were fervent and filled with intensity, your skin burning beneath his touch.

The sound of his heavy breathing becoming a symphony to your ears as he continued to ravage you in wild abandon, pushing the boundaries of pleasure beyond all imaginable limits.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’d cum in pleasure. “Coriolanus-, it's too much, i can’t handle it-.” Though your pleas fall upon death ears as he doesn’t seem to care about what your saying, he was already to deep in the lust of the moment to even realise or comprehend what you were saying.

"Can't get enough of you" he'd whisper, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his strong lap.

"No!" you'd moan when he pressed himself deep inside yours. His embrace seemed to last an eternity, igniting flames of desire all through your body. He wanted all of you and more, a craving that only grew stronger as time went on.

Coriolanus would gaze down to where you were intertwined and moan with delight at the sight of your passion smeared over his shaft. “God damn, you’re driving me wild” he growled, gripping your hips and lifting you up before putting his cock back in.

At this point you’re nothing but his cocksleeve. Your insides scream in pain with each passing second and your stomach feels like it's about to burst from the unbearable sensation.

You beg for him to stop, yet he continues heedless of your pleas. You know that if he doesn't take respite soon, you will succumb to exhaustion and pass out from the physical stress of it all. Coriolanus keeps thrusting into you like a mindless beast.

Not thinking of the repercussions, you tried to push him off by lifting yourself partially up from his thighs and laying your small hand on his pelvis. But in that moment, it was a mistake that you deeply regretted.

You cry out loud as he pulls you back down. His breath is hot and heavy on your skin, his whisper filled with venom as he spits out the question: "Where do you think that you are going?".

He places a hand around the small of your back, holding your hips firmly against the bed. The power of his grip immobilizes you from moving any further. You try to plead with him but it falls on deaf ears.

He stares into your eyes, his expression unreadable as he leans in closer to you. His voice suddenly softens and he smiles a small, knowing smile that sends chills down your spine.

"Look," he says in a low tone, "Just relax."

He had one hand firmly clutching your hands, immobilizing them above your head. You felt his other hand tracing down your body for more access and finally pushing your left leg to the side. "Stop fucking running away and take it," he demanded.

His words stirred something inside of you that felt liberating yet uncertain at the same time. The sensation of him positioned above you unlocked an intensity in the moment that made everything feel heightened- each breath, every action.

You shake your head back and forth, tears streaming down your cheeks. His laugh is bitter as he says, “It serves you right. You shouldn’t have spoken to that guy.”

By the way your body betrayed you once more by tightening his cock, he knew you were going to cum.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Cum for me," Coriolanus whispers as he leans down to kiss your lips and wiping away the tears with one hand that is pressed against your stomach.

His other hand reaches up to grasp onto yours, and he can feel your body quaking beneath him. "Fuck, I'm so close," Coriolanus gasps out in pleasure. His movements become more weaker as time passes.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel him reach his climax inside you, and the walls of your body are filled with his warmth. “So fucking gorgeous with my load in you.” he had whispered into your ear as he pulled out of you, lazily putting his body weight on you but not fully.

“You did so good, so so good.” He says as he moves up to your neck full of hickies to place a gentle kiss. His words spark something deep within you, and as he pulls away you can feel the tears beginning to form in your eyes once again.

You are overcome by a wave of emotion that you can't seem to control, but instead try to hold it back.

He seems to notice it though. "Shhh," Coriolanus whispers as he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around your body. You can feel the beating of his heart against yours, and you wrap your own arms tightly around him. You don't make the effort to push him off you, since you know there was no chance he would let you.

This man.