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“im too fucking pretty for ts”

pz ! - 19 - poc writer - (i take req!!!) - (n)sfw and more

~~⭐️

(if you do not like what i write keep it cute nd get on somewhere pretty!)

(m.list🧚🏿)

(requests will be done as soon as possible)

#spotify #pzz zone #intro post #pinned post

vaeeesdiary

come argue

eren got you fucked all the way up, and what better way to piss him off than entertaining niggas?

warnings : cursing (use of n-word), crybaby!reader (kinda), underage drinking (they're all 19-20), smut, dacryphilia kink, squirting, toxicity(?) slight cunnilingus, pussy slapping, just nasty ok?? not proofread

nova2kss

So good

gojoshill

ೀ she a runna, she a trackstar!

"holy s-shit, toji!" your body squirms against the sheets, face buried in a tear-soaked pillow. "fuck, ungh—"

your boyfriend simply kisses his teeth, and those broad, rough hands stay right on your hips, pulling you back to meet every harsh thrust of his hips. his dick is big — a thick, long thing with a slight curve. all eight inches of relentless girth stretches your poor cunny out, and each time he slides home, his tip smooches that spongey spot inside.

even after three months of dating, you still haven't adjusted. a damn shame, in toji's opinion.

"keep talkin', sugar," toji huffs. "you had a bunch to say earlier. wonder what happened?" his hand slips between you two to deliver a swat to your pussy, and you jolt forward.

"fuck!"

he chuckles, low and raspy, and despite it all, it only makes you wetter, a string of slick connecting your entrance to his base. "there we go."

"'s too muchhh," you whine, and it really, truly is. toji's all but bullying your aching hole, shoving that monstrous thing deeper and deeper until you swear you can feel it in your stomach. hell, damn near your lungs.

there's only one thing left to do: run.

your nails dig into your bedsheets and start to tug yourself forward and away. it's a cute attempt; formidable.

unfortunately, toji isn't a dumbass.

"tsk."

his hand moves back to your hips, grip tightening before he slams you all the way back down and upping his already brutal pace. "uh-uh. this what you asked for, right?"

when you don't respond with anything other than a loud moan, toji smacks your pussymound again. "i know you can fuckin' talk, pretty girl."

"y-yes," you hiccup, and he groans.

you're gorgeous.

"so you should take it, right?"

you nod your head and earn another smack. "god, yes! toji, i'm gonna cum—"

you barely manage to get the sentence out before you're cumming all over his cock, slick gushing around his thick shaft, and toji follows right behind you with a muttered curse.

thick ropes of white paint your gooey insides, and whatever can't fit comes dripping down once he pulls out. your weak body slumps forward, stuffed pussy giving a few weak, final spasms, and toji snorts.

"feels a lot better when ya don't run, hm?"

pillbaby

choso's a sweetheart. he really is. when you're out, with him, in public, girls will fawn over him—much to your dismay. but, you don't blame them. your boyfriend has a certain look in those big, brown eyes, and paired with those messy pigtails, he's adorable.

naïve, too, to a certain point. half the time, he doesn't even realize he's being flirted with. some woman could be practically drooling on him, complementing his big, strong arms, and he still wouldn't realize. sure, he doesn't like the way she's touching him (mostly because she isn't you), but he's too nice to push her away.

in public, that is. in private, not quite. not quite the guy, who just months ago, was a raging virgin—peering up at you with the question of how babies were made.

in private, some flip must've been switched. he wasn't anything like that innocent, pure little guy. nope.

"look at you, fucking slut. taking my cock—shit—like that." you're folded into a cruel mating-press, choso's hands digging into your sides, sure to leave bruises in the morning. his pace is relentless, as he fucks you deeper and harder.

his cock stretches your tight, little pussy hole, knees hooked around his waist. your eyes hit the back of your head, in pure ecstasy. you can't fathom ever being able to respond with anything other than pathetic moans.

"sooo tight f'me," he groans, sweaty bangs plastered to his forehead. choso clicks his teeth, eyes dropping to your lips, swollen from kisses. "open."

all you can do is comply, tongue lolling out. he sharply spits in your mouth, and on instict, you swallow. "ha— whore," he chuckles. "dirty fuckin' cum-rag."

you whine, tears streaming down your face. "looking pretty like that, y'know. you're so much better when you aren't talking," he teases, "jus' making t- those lil' noises."

"chooo—'s too much. no- no more," you beg, wanting to pull away from him, though you can't bring forth the strength to.

"shut the fuck up," he mutters, lips coming to crash down onto yours. your noises are muffled, swallowed by his mouth. "you're not going anywhere."

he sinks his teeth into your calf, and you hiss in pain. "pleasepleaseplease— can't!"

choso grunts, bucking his hips into you. "yes, you can. you can, and you will."

the second he was cumming hot ropes into you, dick going soft in your snug cunt, he was back to being doe-eyed. panting heavy, he presses a sloppy kiss to your forehead.

and, as if he hadn't just rendered you practically immobile for the next two days, he tilted his head, his voice soft and innocent.

"can we order takeout, baby?"

otakufilms

‧₊˚﹒♡﹗₊˚⊹❀𝓸𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓶𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰……‧₊˚﹒♡﹗₊˚⊹❀

pleaser. eren.

𓊆ྀི warnings .ᐟ + word count—11.4K, southern domestic family vibes!, dad!eren, husband!erenyeager, shyblack!femreader, blackwife!reader, lumberjack!eren, southerncoded!femreader, southerncoded!eren, aggressive!eren, dominant!eren, gruff!eren, sweet!eren, size kink!, pet names!baby!, cabin!sex, pussy eating!, face slapping!, slightly aggressive sex!, squirting!, creaming, condomless sex, family drama!, minors aren’t welcome! 𓊇ྀི

メモ。— hey, i was missin’ my country boy eren. i know you did too. love you guys. enjoy. the daughters name is pronounced eye-lah.

YOU ENJOYED BEING A MOMMY.

Maybe it started from the beginning—watching your belly swell up from below, knowing the life growing inside you would alter your entire brain chemistry. Late nights, the hushing of cries, to the giggles as you blew raspberries on miniature toes. Or maybe it was at this very moment—six years later, those little toes now standing barefoot in the middle of your plush carpet tugging on a hello kitty plushie, thumb in mouth as round eyes fixated on Gracie’s Corner flashing against the screen.

Everything was perfect.

viixa

♥︎ ݁ 𓏲 your boyfriend turns into a #certifiedslut during bulking season

bulking-season him doesn’t just look different—he feels different. it’s in the weight of him when he lays on you, the way his chest seems broader overnight, how his thighs take up more space on the bed. his whole body feels denser, heavier, like he’s carrying an extra layer of warmth that only you get to touch. even his hugs change; he used to wrap his arms around you, now he engulfs you, pulling you into his chest until you can barely breathe, whispering, “missed you,” like it’s a confession.

you notice it first in the mornings. the way he stretches and his back looks huge—muscles thick and carved, delts rounded, veins standing out along his arms because he’s been lifting like a demon. when he grabs your hips, his hands feel bigger, rougher, more demanding. he picks you up without warning now, with this effortless strength that makes your stomach drop. you’ll squeal and yell at him to put you down, and he just laughs, voice still raspy from sleep, “can’t. i like carrying you.”

and oh god—the appetite. not just for food. bulking-season him fucks like he’s starving. like he’s been thinking about you all day, every rep, every set. he comes home already half-hard, chest pumped, smelling like sweat and something primal, and the second he sees you? it’s over. he doesn’t even take his shoes off sometimes—he crowds you into a wall with his newly heavy body, one big hand sliding under your shirt, the other grabbing your ass like he owns it.

he kisses you messy, urgent, teeth grazing your lower lip, and you can feel the extra weight behind every movement. he’s stronger. more grounded. when he presses you into the bed, you feel the difference—the solidness of him, the warmth that rolls off his skin, the way his thighs cage you in and you know there’s no moving him even if you tried.

and he gets feral when he’s inside you. something about the bulk makes him rut harder, deeper, like he can’t get close enough. he holds your hips still with those thick hands and fucks into you with this steady, overwhelming force that makes your vision blur. his groans are deeper, too—lower, almost animal-like—like the sound is coming from somewhere way down in his chest.

he’ll pin your wrists above your head, muscles flexing, veins popping along his forearms, and say shit like: “hold still. let me have you.”

“you can take it — c’mon, pretty girl.”

“fuck, you feel even tighter when i’m bigger.”

and when he gets close? he grabs your thighs and folds you so easily it scares you a little—not rough, just strong. the kind of strength that comes from weeks of training and eating like he’s preparing for hibernation. he buries his face in your neck, fucking into you harder, faster, chasing his release with this raw, hungry determination that makes you feel devoured.

afterwards, he’s still panting, still heavy on top of you, one big hand stroking your thigh like he’s calming himself down. then he grins—tired but still cocky, and murmurs, “round two in ten minutes. just need a snack first.”

and he means it. because bulking-season him isn’t just horny… he’s insatiable. he's stronger. heavier, hungrier—and every part of him feels made to ruin you.

we love big beefy men over here YUM

otakufilms

‧₊˚﹒♡﹗₊˚⊹…❀𝓸𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓶𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰…‧₊˚﹒♡﹗₊˚⊹❀

country boy slangin’. onyankopon.

𓊆ྀི warnings .ᐟ + word count— 3.7K, original!blackfemreader, husband!onyankopon, farmer!onyankopon, southerncoded!onyankopon, southernwife!femreader, sweet!femreader, caring!femreader, dominant!onyankopon, aggressive!onyankopon, riding!, aggressive pet names, squirting, creaming, condomless sex, dick sucking, minors are not welcome! 𓊇ྀི

メモ。— forever will love me a country boy. save a horse, right a what? yeah, exactly.

YOUR HUSBAND HAD AN ATTITUDE. It was entirely valid in this case—but you wished that he’d relax just a bit. A small pout formed at the ends of your lips, hand slowing to stir the sugar within your lemonade pitcher as you watched him. You could see in the way his bicep flexed as he leaned into his Ford F—450, twisting his wrench as he removed and replaced different pieces within the truck's engine irritatedly.

Here’s the thing—the day before was completely fine. Your husband was a vision of the south—mixtures of his New Orleans and Mississippi twang, the annoyance of how he was never afraid to get his hands dirty, to the smooth umber of his skin beneath the sun at a constant—his dark pink lips—full, soft, the gold of his grills shining with each word falling from his mouth. He was a dream.

The morning started off well, though. You ran your face beneath the warm water of the shower, grinning the moment you felt his broad body step in with you—his low grunt suffocated the flesh of your throat, sucking at it in his own way of greeting.

Your affection for each other always seemed to distract from his daily work on the farm. It was four acres far out from the city—cows, pigs, horses, chickens— a domesticated life that you enjoyed as a wife, coming to live within the countryside of Mississippi the moment you eloped.

Back to the point of how Onyankopon’s attitude came to fruition—it was still the day before, your French tips pouring soybeans into the bucket of your piglets’ Love and Bug’s tin for lunch. The deep ginger of your curls drape along your shoulder as you bend forward, your hand raising over your freckled face to block the sun as you look across the field. Horse shoes gallop from across the field as he tugs at its reins—you always found yourself…watching him.

Riding bareback, the horse beneath him continued to gallop—the cowboy hat atop of his head blocked him from the sun, cornrows tight along his scalp, white tee clinging to his tatted figure. The sun beamed against his shown skin, nearly able to hear the whistles he makes as he guides the cows back into their barn.

The halter romper you wear compliments your caramel complexion, the picnic plaid of its material hugging your body in ways it shouldn’t have—the mound of your hips, the fat of your ass—you dig your boots into the sediments of the ground, giving him a soft wave.

“Mornin’, baby.”

His voice is deep, full of grit.

Boots rumble the ground as he dismounts his horse, sizing you up with each step that brings himself closer. Onyankopon’s eyes are on you—drinking in every inch, your hips, your waist, the full of your ass against the tight fabric of your romper, your blush.

“You know I’m a lil’ dirty, girl. My fault.”

His hands go to grip your face regardless, pulling you into his body. His musk surrounds you, all man.

“That’s okay,” your voice is sweet, “You okay? MooMoo fightin’ you instead of going back to the barn?”

His lips drop onto yours the moment he holds your face, his kiss full of an aggression that makes your thighs clench.

“Mmm,” he pulls away a bit, mouth still brushing against yours as his hand strokes your waist, “She mad ‘cause I ain’t give her ass an apple like ‘errbody else. Should’ve been listenin’ when I said take yo’ ass to the barn.”

You giggle, rubbing your cheek into his palm, “She’s stubborn—‘Get’s from her Daddy.”

“‘Cept my ass still know how to listen,” his hand grips at your ass, “She get’ that sassy shit from you.”

Your eyes flick back to the field, seeing the cow standing within the same spot as all the others had crowded back into the shed. You peck at his chin, “Don’t be talkin’ ‘bout me ‘cause you can’t get your children in check, farmer.”

“I gets’ shit in check—I be havin’ yo’ ass listenin’ pretty good, don’t I?”

“Negative.”

He chuckles at that.

“Go start dinner,” He murmurs in your mouth, “I’ll get done with MooMoo and we can finish watchin’ that show from last night. I’ll rub yo’ feet, give you a lil’ massage.”

“‘Kay’,” you pucker your lips, “You’ love me?“

“Yo’ ass cuttin’ up,” Onyankopon grunts, his hand smacking at your ass once more, “You know a nigga love you. Gon’ back in the house.”

And you did—you’d showered, slipped into the soft silk of your nightgown, glasses tipping at your nose as your curls hung beneath your claw clip effortlessly. You’d prepared brunch for dinner, shrimp ‘n grits with beignets for dessert, your giggles traveling all along the house as he kissed the sugar off your lips. Your fingers played with the coils of his beard, marquise cut diamond ring shining beneath the lights of your home as you watched TV with him—You were in love.

It wasn’t until the end of the night that things changed.

He held you as you slept, tattooed fingers splayed along your stomach as he cuddled you to his chest. The fan peacefully strummed a comforting tune into the room—but it was being overshadowed at the moment—a distressed mooing was sounding through the windows, as the only cow that was out of the barn had still been MooMoo.

She was more of the silent animal, and you knew that only meant two things—that she was actually in distress, or someone had put her in distress. To make matters worse, the motion detectors around your house were going off outside.

Your heart stuttered within your chest as you’d both woken up at the same time—your body immediately turned towards him, clinging to his arm as your first response of fear. But you knew your husband—he was already slipping out of the bed, the darkness only allowing you to hear the click sound of him loading his shotgun.

Your hands cling onto his back as you whimper, “Ony, don’t leave me—“

“Imma’ be back,” he pressed his mouth against yours, “Lemme’ just go check on my girl, see if all this fuss is over a dog or sum’. Don’t get out of bed, aight? Forreal’.”

He kisses you firmly once more—safe, warm, making your heart slow just a bit the moment he walks out.

It could’ve been five minutes, it might’ve even been thirty. But your body tensed the moment you heard the front door slam shut, heavy boots thumping up the stairs before the door opened. Your body relaxed the moment his silhouette came into frame—but just by his energy, you could feel his irritation.

“Baby?” you call, “You okay?”

You could hear the thump of his gun being dropped into the ground, “I’m good. I just put MooMoo back up—she was layin’ on her side.”

The grunt in his voice makes you frown, “What?”

“Dumbass niggas was prolly’ passin’ through and seen the farm—thought it was funny to be tippin’ cows like some fuckin’ kids.”

You watched as his tattooed figure moved into the bathroom, his fingers lifting to turn on the light as he began to wash his hands.

“Muhfucka’s lucky I ain’t catch they ass—“

“You wouldn’t have shot them, Ony.”

His eyes narrow.

“They was’ on our property, girl. You thought I wasn’t gon’ shoot on sight?”

You sigh, “Baby—“

“‘Baby’ nothin,” he rubs at his face, “Why you actin’ like you okay wit’ some niggas jumpin’ our fence? Where’ you think we at, girl? California?—ain’t no law out here unless it’s me.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this.”

“Aight. I do.”

“Onyankopon.”

“You ain’t finna’ be tellin’ a nigga not to do what needa’ be done when it’s for us. For you.”

“Baby, it’s nearly four in the morning,” you reminded, “You’re making yourself upset—can you come lay down? Please?”

He stares at you for a moment, his lips tight before he inhales, jaw working as he nods.

“Aight,” he exhales, “Aight, baby. You’ right.”

He slowly eased himself into bed, his arms immediately holding your figure. You can feel the heat of his chest—the thump of his heart. He was worked up.

So here you were now the next morning—Onyankopon was still on ten, and he wasn’t the best at hiding it. You were back outside feeding the pigs, your eyes narrowing beneath the sun as the gallop of his horse rumbled the ground, his deep voice commanding the cows to move in the direction he needed them to.

“Move,” he shouts, clicking at his horse as he rounds them all up, “Y’all know where yo’ asses s’pose to be! Ain’t no apples today!”

Even hours later, he was no better. Agitation was the only word you could think of as you stood in the kitchen, eyes squinted as you watched him from the front door— his large body leaned into the hood of his truck, attempting to fix whatever was wrong with it. He’d just bought the vehicle a couple of months ago, and when a gas station worker made the stupid mistake of pumping it with diesel, it’d been acting strange ever since.

“I thought you were gonna’ take it to the shop?” you questioned from inside, raising your voice a bit for him to hear.

“Nah,” he grunts back, “Ain’t about to spend another eight hours at that place bein’ told the same thing I ‘been hearin’ for a week—Nigga said he fixed the leak in the lining, and I’m still hearin’ it. Swear to god if I need a new muhfuckin’ truck imma’ kill that nigga.”

You had to let him be when he got like this. His muscles flexed as he fixed his truck, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his arms—huge, deep scowl on his face, grills shining at the flash of his gritted teeth. His hefty belt buckle and boots rumble the ground as he shifts under the hood.

“Don’t overheat yourself out there, baby.”

Onyankopon tugs his shirt off in response, his pants hanging low along his waist from the heat of the day.

“‘Heard you.”

You allowed him to work for another thirty minutes before checking on him— now standing within the doorframe, you watched his jaw contract each time he tugged something beneath the hood.

His deep voice called, “You need somethin’, girl?”

Your glasses perch at your nose, curls coiled around the flush of your cheeks as the air of outside brushes against your clothing—the white material only clasped shut by thin strings at the dip of your breasts, able to see the curve of your stomach, matching shorts clinging to the poke of your ass with every click clack of your brown boots.

“Jus’ came to check on you.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Your voice is soft as you call for his attention, “Baby?”

“Wassup’, Mama?

When he replies, his eyes glance at you—then, he’s back into the car, “You lookin’ pretty.”

“Thank you—um, you wanna come inside for a little?” You suggest gently, “I made lemonade for you.”

Onyankopon sighs—his palm runs along the back of his neck, muscles flexing, sweat cascading down his body.

“Lemme’ jus’—finish this shit first, aight? Imma’ keep fixatin’ on it if I don’t.”

“Hey. You can fixate on it later, yeah?”

Your voice is even more gentle, hands reaching out and pulling him away from the open hood—“You’re hotter than the sun, Ony. Come with me, please?”

He’s silent—but he listens. When you pull him by his wrist, he follows with no fight. His footsteps are heavy, his frame tall— You knew that he wanted to keep going—but he also knew not to disagree when you asked something of him.

Onyankopon now sits in the living room, body leaned back into the sofa, eyes closed while air blows onto his face and chest. The cartoons you had on play a comforting tune next to the box fan blowing from across the room, instantly beginning to cool his body.

“‘Think you should take another try at pushin’ it down to the shop in Tupelo.”

He grunts, arm crossing over his face as he exhales,“I might have to, or imma’ head back in Jackson—Just gotta wait it out, see what the rest of the week lookin’ like.”

“You know,” you gently place the lemonade on the table besides the sofa—ploping down onto his lap, the scent of you instantly hits his nose as you wrap your body into him, “We had a lil’ scare last night—but you did such a good job of takin’ care of me, baby.”

“I had to do sum’,” he grunts, finding his palms along your waist, “A nigga ain’t mean’ to make you scared—You know I’d never let anythin’ happen to you, huh?”

His palm slides beneath your shorts, holding the flesh of your ass in his hands.

“Mhm.”

Your fingers slide along his beard, caressing his jaw before you finally leaned forward—your lips suck at his, a giggle masking your whimper as you feel yourself grind along his lap.

Onyankopon’s jaw works, his hand gently gripping at your cheek to hold your face to his—your whimper makes his lips drop open in another grunt—his tongue moving into your mouth, along your teeth, deeper.

“Been missin’ you, Ony. ‘Been so distant.”

You tug at the weight of his belt, leaning forward as you suck at his lips again.

“I ‘been thinkin’ ‘bout you too, girl. Don’t get it twisted, aight?”

His nose brushes against yours as you nod—your eyes lower as you suck his bottom lip into your mouth again, dragging it against your teeth, all while your hands slide up the material of his jeans, reaching your hand under the band the moment your lower body hits the floor.

“Look at you,” he rasps, “Already on yo’ fuckin’ knees.”

It’s as if his cologne tickles your stomach, you’re breathless as you give a horny sigh, pulling your mouth back a bit as you whimper in a repeat of, “Missed you, Ony.”

“My baby just wanted this dick, huh?”

Onyankopon’s voice is full of grit as his palm slowly slides down your face, his thumb caressing at the soft of your bottom lip. He watches you—a brief flash passes through his eyes of love before they turn hungry, “Show a nigga how much you missed him. Need you throatin’ my shit.”

The sight of him—the gold of his grills melting within your eyes, attractive features and jaw clenching at you from below—you’re tugging his dick from his jeans, tip fat as you wrap your lips around him, flattening your tongue along the flesh as you moan.

“You’re so pretty, Papa.”

He tilts his chin a bit, eyes narrowing.

“You callin’ me Papa now? Huh?” His voice was thick, “That’s how bad you miss me?”

Your cat eyes taunt him, nodding as you beg, “Spit on it,” lolling your tongue out your mouth, waiting for him.

And he does—he tilts your head back more, dropping saliva into your mouth, groaning at the pure arousal along your face. You spit back onto his tip, wrapping your fingers along the base as you slide him to the back of your throat—as you pull back, a string of saliva connects your lips back to his dick, your tongue sticking out as you giggle at the sight.

Onyankopon glares.

His fingers find your curls— palm slapping your face, “Why you so fuckin’ nasty, girl?”

He’s holding your cheeks with both palms, fucking your mouth, the schluck, schluck of your throat echoing into the ceiling—the whites of your eyes are shown as they rolled back with each thrust, enjoying the groans he gave you in return.

You climb back onto his lap more impatiently this time, latching your lips onto the skin of his neck and jaw—your hand is guiding his palm to your shorts as you whimper, “Pull,” still kissing feveredly at his throat.

Onyankopon’s fingers slide along the back of your thigh as he finds a hold of your shorts, pulling, pulling the material to one side of your ass, your glistening folds exposed to the cool air—your body tenses the moment he’s slapping his dick against your pussy, allowing your arousal to coat his tip.

It’s hot—the weight of his tip is being engulfed by your folds all at once—you’re sinking down, back arching as you breathily moan against his face, “You’ need me?”

“Quit playin’,” he growls, “You know I do.”

Your curls drape over your face as your vision locks below, rotating your hips down—your moans are becoming more soft and whiny, face slowly turning to a deep pout as your palms reach at the top of the sofa for more leverage—you’re riding him like you never had before.

“Already goin’ crazy on my shit. Keep goin’.”

Your face is warm, red—but that never stopped you. You move his palm along your tits as you plead, “Touch me.”

He does as told, moving the other along your waist, along your hips. It was like he was worshipping you, hands wandering along your soft curves, squeezing your hips, back, stomach, ass, thighs, everywhere.

”Pretty ass lil’ bitch.”

It’s like your mouth won't shut. Your aroused haze has you swirling your hips above him, nearly hyperventilating in a high pitched whine, “You feel so good, Ony.”

“You’ so fuckin’ sloppy with this shit,” He grunts through gritted teeth, clutching your throat even tighter, making you look at him, “You’ gettin’ drunk off me, ain’t you?”

Maybe you were—and you loved every second of it. You wanted to blow your curls out your face, but you’re too gone, nearly hitting a sense of delirium. You’re bouncing on his dick, lightly squealing as the skin to skin resounds in claps.

Your eyes roll back as you groan, “Yes…O—Ooh…Yeah…”

It gets worse, your mouth trembling out a prolonged moan of, “Onyyy…”

His head knocks back as he digs his nails into your skin, each sloppy slap of your ass connecting with his abdomen making his jaw clench, feeling the secretion of your folds smearing his thighs.

“Look at them’ muhfuckin’ eyes,” he mutters, squeezing your waist, “You feelin’ good, huh?”

You’re frowning that it feels so good. You feel his hand slide back up to the nape of your neck, leaning your body a bit closer to his, your forehead’s connected as you whimper, “O—Ohmygodbabyyy.”

“You gone,” he grunts, “Ain’t even hearin’ me.”

You hear him, but your brain is muffled.

His fingers are rough, the tips of them digging into your skin as he finds your arms to lock them behind your back—the veins on his hand are a dark blue, a mixture of his blood pumping with the tattoo of your first initials along his pinkie, symbolizing how much you meant to him, even in these moments.

Onyankopon’s grunt is muffled by the way his hand smacks your ass, the leverage of your arms allowing him to hold you in place—your thighs are plop, plop, continuously plopping onto his abdomen.

Your mouth is directly leaned into his ear as you shake, “S’good”—but it’s until you can really hear your skin echoing against his, that your eyes roll as you groan.

“You think ion’ miss you too?” He snarls, “I’ll kill a muhfucka’ behind yo’ pussy.”

You don’t do a good job at all in responding—you’re loud. His hold on you is tight, moving you up and down in a rough motion, “Oh my goddd, Ony—fuck,” it’s as if you’re irritated with him, your voice had you practically singing.

Your scent is so feminine that he can almost taste it—brown sugar, amber—the way your pussy squelches, you were the personification of a drug, and he was your junkie.

His voice is deeper, lower, meaner, “C’mere,” he spanks your ass, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he grunts, “Goddamn, baby. She talkin’ right now.”

You were lucky that all the land around the two of you was your own property—the cows, chicken, farm—as the door was wide open. He slapped your ass even rougher, your whimper muffling his own grunts of, “You got a nigga lost in this shit.”

“Ony—oohshittt, baby.”

You’re both a mess—your curls are wild, your mouth swollen and wet, the softness of your skin against his hands, his neck, his lips.

“You gon’ cum on it?”

He’s asking a question, but you can’t necessarily answer—cause you are—you’re painting his dick with coats of cream, the sop of it traveling back to his ears. Onyankopon chuckles arrogantly the moment you sniffle through your pouts, trembling whiny cries as you squirt so messily, so prettily.

“Fuck,” he moans, “That’s my muhfuckin’ baby. You gon’ gimme another one?”

Your little sob is enough to answer—you’re drenching his balls, body shaking atop of his as he’s continuously bouncing you onto his dick that’s still hard as before—it’s when you press your thighs together that he groans, holding you close as a warmth fills your walls, his moan dragging a bit to meet the sounds of yours.

Your face now buries into the crook of his neck, lower body spasming gently to ground yourself. But that’s when you stop—your eyes flicker to the side of the table, your palm coming along your flushed face as you whimper, “Your lemonade, Ony…”

He’s snorting.

“I was busy,” he mumbled, kissing at the edge of your shoulder blade, “I’m sorry, aight? Imma’ go grab another glass.”

When he goes to move, you don’t.

“You gon’ let me go, or you gon’ hold a nigga hostage?”

He chuckles this time, placing his hands along your sides as he pats you, “Lemme’ up, girl. Can’t even move.”

“No,” you huff, “I don’t wanna let go.”

“Aight— lemme’ hold you for a lil’, let you get yo’ mind right before you make dinner.”

Your eyes peek open, “Did I say I was makin’ dinner, or you tryna’ gaslight me into saying that’s what you want?”

“Chill,” He grins, “Lemme’ get another chance—Baby, you gon’ make dinner for me?”

“You knew the answer already,” you kissed his bicep, “You never had to ask.”

“‘Cause you love me?”

“I always love you.”

“How much?”

You giggle, “More than a country boy loves his farm.”

He’s grinning.

“More than a fat nigga loves cake.”

“You’re so lame.”

“Huh? You ain’t like that?”

“…Maybe.”

“That’s what I thought.”

bladebarbie

➥ 𝑆𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟.ᐟ𝑂𝑛𝑦 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑖𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑘

Ony told you to come through around 10pm. He said he missed your voice but you knew it wasn’t the one you speak with. But the one that cries out his name, slow and soft when you’re full of him.

You walked in, wearing a cute pink two-piece you had just bought on his dime. He looked up from the mixing console and smiled like he was tryna be polite about it, but his eyes kept dropping to your thighs. Every time you moved they rubbed together just enough to make your clit twitch.It was silly how excited you were to see him “You look good, baby” he complimented, removing the headphones that were resting around his neck.

“Thank you~” you smiled,the gem stones on your teeth shining. You stepped out of your slides and climbed onto the couch, legs kicked to one side. The beat playing was slow. Thick 808s under a loop that sounded like sex on repeat “hm, I like this beat” you closed your eyes, enjoying the music playing.

Ony stood up and walked over to you, gently cupping your face. You slowly opened your eyes to look up at him, he looked so fucking good in all black. He leaned down and kissed you, his hand slid down to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly and pushing you back onto the couch. Your lips parted to let his tongue slide into your mouth, moaning into his has he climbed atop of you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, nails dragging lightly over the back of his head as he kissed you deeper. His body pressed down into yours, hips nestled between your thighs. Your legs opened on instinct, your panties already sticking to your pussy from how wet you were.

His hand slipped under your top, warm palm and cold silver rings cupping your tit, thumb dragging over your nipple until it hardened. Your back arched, pussy rubbing up against his clothed dick.

You lifted your hips for him, letting him pull down your lil skirt along with your panties. he tossed them to the side and looked down at you for a second, eyes dropping to your pussy all glistening and soaked with arousal just from a few kisses.

“you only get like this for me, huh?”

you nodded, lips swollen and eyes low“mhm…only you”

He smirked, leaned down and kissed your thigh, then buried his face between your legs. His tongue slid up your pussy slow, from your whole to your clit, your whole body twitched.

“fuck !” you whimpered, hand grinning his biceps as he sucked your clit just right.

You didn’t know he had hit the record button before even walking over to you. You didn’t know your little gasps, your breathy “right there, baby” were being captured raw. You were too busy writhing under his tongue, thighs squeezing around his head while he groaned against your pussy like it was his favorite meal. He pulled back with his lips glossy with your wetness.

“turn around” you obeyed, face down, ass up. You felt his big ass hand on your back, the other guiding his dick to your soaked pussy, thick head sliding in slow.

Your mouth dropped open “oh! fuck… Ony!”

He gripped your waist tighter and pushed in deeper, slow and steady until your pussy stretched full around him. You whimpered loud, body jerking forward but he pulled you right back, set the rhythm deep, slow strokes, each one worse than the last “baby… right there, right..!”

He was quiet, breath low and controlled, eyes focused on the way your body reacted, the way your pussy got louder each time he bottomed out, watching his dick disappear into you. Your voice kept spilling into the room so desperate and fucked out.

You were gripping the cushion with both hands, moaning into the beat still playing behind your cries. The wet sound of your pussy with every stroke and the way your voice cracked when he angled deeper, it was so nasty “oh my god-ony! oh my-…”

He reached forward, grabbed your neck, pulled your back up against his chest while still inside you “sound so good,” he mumbled, finally, almost to himself “so loud and messy”

Your pussy clenched hard at his low deep voice all in your ear. Your head fell back on his shoulder, legs barely holding you up “please… don’t stop, fuck..i’m so close!” Ont didn’t slow down, kept that perfect pace that had you slurring your words and clawing at his skin.

By the time you came, you were tearing up a little as he kept fucking you through it “m’so full… baby please! I-I can’t…”. He pulled out only when you collapsed,chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

He leaned down, pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, then walked over to the console. He reached over and suddenly the speakers filled with the same beat but layered now with your voice, soft and fucked out, moaning over the track like a sample. Breathy little whines and your own shaky “ony… oh my god…” merging into the bassline.

You froze “Ony..is that-?” he smirked, didn’t even look at you.

“sounds perfect,” he said, dragging the volume up “i’m keepin it”

chunkyblossomberry

Just what I need (●’◡’●) My Man(¯ ³¯)♡(¯ ³¯)♡

armin-slvt

. ‎ . ݁⋆ “Attitude”

౨ৎ Connie springer ౨ৎ

Synopsis: After spending a long day complaining to Connie on the farm, he decides to shut your mouth by making it scream something else!

Pairing: Country!Connie + Brat!Black!Reader

Warnings: 𓊆ྀི󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠 Smut, Raw, Overstimulation, cream pie, orgasm denial, spanking, etc.𓊇ྀི

The country life was something you weren't incredibly familiar with as you grew up living the city life or as he called it the "Boujee lifestyle." Even still, connie tried his hardest to make you accustomed to it.

From teaching you how to hunt, fish, and even showing you the way around the farm.

As many times as he took you out of the city, he couldn't take the city out of you.

"Connie it's stinks"

"Connie it's hot"

"Connie these boots hurt my feet"

You had an attitude the entire time you'd been outside and it was annoying the absolute hell out of him hearing you nag in his ear.

Especially while trying to show you how he cares for the farm in 90 degree weather.

From the tight tank top that pushed your breast up to the sparkling clean boots that had never seen a speck of dust before, you didn't seem a smidge bit close to belonging there.

"Con can you carry me, i don't wanna mess my boots up in this mud." You said looking at him pouting. He looked at you dumbfounded, almost as if he didn't want to answer.

"I bought you the boots so you'd get dirty, now bring ya' ass" Connie responded, feeling himself get slightly irritated. He was trying to be patient, but you kept poking at his nerves.

"You know what... don't act like that 'cause I don't want to walk through shit." You smacked your lips, rolling your eves as you walked away, only to be pulled back by your waistband.

"You better cut that shit out right now, you and all this damn complaining" After all this time of hearing your mouth he finally reached his breaking point.

"I'm going inside I'm done." You sighed taking off the gloves you wore. The heat, the dirt, and the smell it was all too much. And nothing was worse than the fact your hair began to sweat.

"I betchu won't go into that house." His grey eyes stared into yours, daring you to move.

"I betchu i will" You said mocking his accent. And fuck was he pissed, watching you strut back to the house did nothing but fuel his frustration.

And just like that you were back in the house, sinking into the bathe water. Gosh did it feel amazing finally being clean again. You weren't necessarily in the wrong, you didn't like being dirty and he knew that so why was he upset?

"Con, you in here baby" You softly yelled leaving the bathroom. To your relief there was no answer. Minutes passed and just as you could get comfortable you heard his deep voice.

"M'here baby" He stood there, his body dripping in sweat with his shirt off and his hat slightly tilted back. His abs glistened in the light with smudges of dirt on them. He looked hot, even as dirty as he was you might of let him bend you over just like that.

Your eyes slowly followed him to the bathroom door praying he didn't close it behind him until he shut it. "Maybe I could use another shower too" You bit your lip, the image of him replaying in your head over and over.

By the time he'd he walked out the bathroom, you'd forgotten your whole interaction from earlier. But there was no way he could, it bugged him to the point where he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Nonetheless, Connie wasn't too big a fan of arguing, so he used another way to express his anger and frustration. A way that he knew you'd listen to him.

"C'mon over baby" He said patting his hand on his lap. And like a puppy you listened, sitting there straddling him as his right hand gripped your waist firmly.

Using his other he pulled you in for a kiss, starting off slowly just pecking your lips before shoving his tongue in. "Conn" You whined feeling his aggression. He swirled his tongue around yours, sucking on it. The sounds from the kiss were disgustingly wet, as the saliva exchange from your mouths leaving a trail behind.

"Ya wanna know something baby, l'm not a fan of attitudes, never have and never will be," He said rubbing his thumb on your lip, wiping the mess left over. Your brown doe eyes followed his movements, craving more than a simple kiss. The pulse between your thighs needed more than a simple kiss.

"So why would I accept one from the woman I love the most hmm?" He questioned staring his low grey eyes into yours. Your lips slightly parted to say something smart, but nothing came out.

"Cat got ya tongue? You were talking so much earlier why stop now?" He smiled crawling his hand up your thigh, feeling your slightly damp panties against himself. Connie was calm, too calm, to the point where it felt scary.

"But Connie I was hot, and tired, and sweaty and it was so much" You justified your actions, you didn't feel like you did anything wrong.

Your fingers began to play with his waistband before he snatched it away making you pout. His gaze lowered, feeling much more intimidating than before.

"I think I'll just have to make you understand your wrongs, it's fine everyone needs to be reminded sometimes". Without giving you time to think, he had you lying there bent over his lap, ass up with his left hand wrapped around your wrist.

His grip held you in place as his right grazed your cheek softly. His calloused hand lifted before harshly crashing back down on your ass.

The unexpected sting traveling throughout your body making you squirm and cry out.

"Fuckkk con!"

One.

"I was patient with you today, and you did nothing but sit there and complain" He spoke with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Connieee" You whimpered feeling the ache of his hand. "Aht Aht, don't start screaming my name unless you're sorry baby" Your face scrunched up, going quiet again.

"But I didn't even-" You were cut off by the harsh pain that landed on your cheek once again, making you hiss. This time the slap felt sharp, and the feeling was more pleasure than pain. His thumb grazed against your panties feeling the heartbeat before pressing down allowing you to drip onto him.

Two.

"As many times as l've told you to respect me as I do for you, you continue raising your damn voice at me" Connie's jaw tightened watching your body jerk. He was frustrated with you, but he was even more pissed watching how horny he was making you.

"This shit must turn you on huh?" He chuckled, his voice making your body twitch. He was right and gosh was it pathetic. The way your nipples were perked up, your swollen puffy clit, and the sticky mess between your thighs was all so embarrassing.

His hand raised once again landing another blow on your ass, this time closer to your pussy making your thighs tremble. "Connie I'm sorry fuck!" You moaned out loudly feeling your body quiver. His hand rubbed and soothed the pain away, ignoring your insincere pleas.

Three.

"Y'know, I hate when you open your pretty mouth to use such filthy words too, yet you still do it" You felt his glare in you, as if his eyes were burning through your skin.

And beneath your belly, he was hard. His dick poked and twitched, feeling every inch of him between the fabric that separated the two of you.

The outline of his print filling your brain with more unholy thoughts than it could fit.

"Baby m'sorryy" You needily apologized, desperate for him to touch you.

Connie's hands released your wrist, laying your body flat on the bed.

He smacks his lips listening to you, as if he didn't believe a word that left your mouth. He pushed your plush brown thighs back into your chest forcing them to press against your breast.

His fingers brushed over your clit, sending a quiver down your spine.

"Youn even know why you're sorry for real, you just want some dick" He rolled his eyes as he pushed your panties to the side. The breeze on your pussy making you whimper.

"Connie please" You were desperate, the longer he didn't touch you the more you needed him. His eyebrow arched as he pulled his cock out. It was pretty, the light tan he had, the way it curved to the right, and the length of it.

Gosh it was big.

Veins lightly popped out the side of it, and it wasn't just long enough but it was thick too.

"You talk so fucking much, baby" He muttered pressing his tip against your clit, his dick twitching hard as your pussy glistened in the light.

"With that mouth, youn even deserve this for real" He frowned before pushing himself in deeply, allowing himself to stretch your walls apart as much as he could. "Fuck!" You gasp knocking your head back.

Only for him to ram himself in you aggressively, his balls slapping against your pussy wetly as your slick covered him.

"What I tell you about talking like that" He growled, his hand wrapping around your throat forcing you to look at him. He thrusted harder making you cry out, your legs trembling. "Con- I can't take it please" You moaned feeling yourself clench around him.

"Oh m'gosh, that's the s-spot!" You screamed as his tip pressed against your g-spot. He had your back arched deeply and your arms clinched the sheets for dear life.

"Shit..." he breathed out. His eyes followed your breast, watching the up and down motion. Connie's fingers teased your nipples, rolling over them before slightly pinching them.

Squelching sounds filled up the room growing louder and louder. The pornographic moans keeping the room anything but silent.

"Please, Connie go slow" The feeling of pain and pleasure swirled together as he deepened himself picking up his pace. "Im-soo-close baby!" You breathed, eyes rolling back. Gosh did it feel good having him fuck you like a madman. The man who was usually slow and patient, ramming inside of your cunt releasing all his frustration

Until a sudden emptiness filled your body, realizing he had pulled out right before you could. cum. His dick twitched in his hand and it's your slick dripping down it. His tip was flushed, throbbing, and swollen as if it never wanted to come out.

"M'sorry baby please" You whined craving the feeling of him inside of you.

"Use your words baby, why are you sorry hmm?" His brows furrowed.

Connie knew you never believed you were wrong in anything, and it pissed him off more than anything. His tip teased against your hole begging to come inside, waiting for your answer.

"I was doing too much baby, i was being a bitch more no reason" You whined, your hand pressing on his chest as his finger rolled over your clit making anything you wanted to say ten times harder.

"Please connie i'm sorry for real this time i'll work on it" You were desperate, you needed him stretching you out again.

"Keep lying to yourself baby, we both know you weren't sorry when you walked back into this damn house" He lifted your thigh onto his shoulder as he aligned himself up with you.

Connie smirked pushing himself inside of you, this time thrusting with rhythm allowing you to feel every inch of him. "Y'feel so fucking good" He moaned, tightening his grip on your hips. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your pussy clench around him, every thrust feeling more punishing.

His dick bulging through your stomach. Gosh he was whipped, the more he fucked you the deeper he wanted to be inside your pussy.

"Aht aht, Look at me when you cumming baby" Connie demanded.

And you did, your eye lashes fluttering at him looking into his as you slowly became more and more out of it. Your orgasm shooting through your body as you clenched down on him. Your thighs trembling uncontrollably as your breath heightened screaming his name.

Even after you had came his thrust never stopped, each one sounding louder and louder as your cum covered his dick. You were on such a high all you could do was mutter incoherent moans as he built your body up to its second orgasm.

"Con- so much... too much" You whined digging your nails deeper in his back. You dripped down his thighs, leaving a mess on the sheets. His dick twitched inside of you, letting you know he was about to cum.

Connie's breath brushed your ears, "Y-You feel so fucking amazing" He muttered as his breathing became more shallow. His strokes becoming longer and more passionate.

His dick slammed deep inside of you one last time, filling you up with ropes of his cum. Leaving between your thighs feeling warm and sticky. Even after he pulled out, your thighs continued to tremble, still feeling his shape inside of you, leaving your pussy swollen, puffy, and raw.

"I really fucking hate attitudes baby"

rumisgf

“waterworks”

“shitt- hear her talkin’ to me, ma?”

connie is a messy man. he’ll fuck you for hours cause he’s not satisfied until you make a mess of his sheets to the point he has to wash them and yall sit on the couch in his living room or on the floor until they’re done.

“f-uck conn~! too much…!”

“uh-uh, take this shit.”

he fucks you deeper, guttural moans escaping out your throat as you become putty in his hands, your slick dripping down between your asscheeks.

“there you go…yeahhhhh..”

the sound of his dick sliding in and out of your sopping cunny is pornographic at this point. he bends your legs to your ears, pressing down on your lower stomach as he tries to coax an orgasm out of you.

“conn-nie…waitt~…”

he smiles in response to your plea, smacking his hips against your skin with more force. your moans turn into squeals, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“oh shit..damn..”

clear juices fly out of your hole and spray onto yourself and his stomach. a shit eating grin forms on his face, pulling back a bit so he can get a better view.

“there you go mama, let that shit out. let it out”

you continue squirting on him as he fucks you through it, grunting heavily as he feels your wall spasm around him and your wetness. his thumb finds your clit, added an extra sensation of pleasure.

“messy little slut…ion know what imma do with you..”

he absolutely loves it.

©𝑹𝑼𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑮𝑭

bratreligion

JAMES JOINT FEATURING EREN JAEGER | REVAMPED

in which your situationship of nearly a year finally makes his way to your city after months of no contact. (18+)

cw & disclaimers sex obviously, mentions of weed/getting high, spit sharing sowwy, this is a true story lowk except we never met or did the domestic shit booooo! this is a written version of the original by me, i promise i didn’t steal anything! 6.9k wk

The soft melody of Summer Walker’s ‘Body’ sang softly from your TV, bouncing off the walls, nothing more than background noise like the static crackling of whatever candle you had lit earlier, the sweet aroma of vanilla birthday cake passing through the air. The untouched assignment drained your MacBook's battery life, serving as an additional light source alongside the dim periwinkle colored lights strung around the corners of your ceiling. The array of pastel colored notebooks and color coded papers cluttered the rest of your bed while you lay sprawled across your comforter, more relaxed than you should have been, given that you were supposed to be studying. You couldn’t help it. The silk pillows and squishmallows propped onto your mattress were too soft for your hazy mind. You knew no real, productive work was getting done the minute you kicked your Crocs off and stepped onto the delicate carpet flooring in your bedroom.

Frankly, getting work done anywhere had been hard for you. You couldn’t recall the last time you had turned in an assignment without it being exceptionally late or half assed, even in the easy classes you minored in. It was unlike you. Your academic life had been one of a kind previously, your name always being at the top of the dean's list or the first called on during an award ceremony. You were in a slump, and anyone could tell from how you dragged your feet around, your confident walk losing its essence day after day, no longer gleefully swinging your braids around or wearing a big, cheeky grin. You tried to deny the reason you’d been feeling so drained. Though you’d never admit it, everyone close to you knew why their friend had lost her gleam.

Eren Jaeger's name had become nothing short of infamous amongst your friends and everything you associated with him. A group of three to four people despised him. But the craziest thing was that they’d never met him in person.

And neither had you.

You lay still on the bed, nearly dozing off into yet another deep sleep, your lashes resting on your droopy cheeks, so relaxed you hadn’t noticed your bonnet sliding off your head. Sighing, your chest rising and falling, beating with your heart that thumped suddenly in a fast, erratic rhythm with your phone, iPad, and Macbook. Gasping faintly, you jumped, manicured hands scurrying to find one of the three devices, eventually landing on your iPad. You squinted, so groggy you hadn’t noticed the buzzing was from an incoming Facetime call that you assumed would be Mikasa or Sasha calling to get you out of your apartment. The second your vision adjusted to the lighting, a pit of anxiety settled inside of your tummy, drying whatever spit pooled in your mouth.

(916)330-0413… (916)330-0413.

pzonnie

dont ever delete ts

rumisgf

“waterworks”

“shitt- hear her talkin’ to me, ma?”

“f-uck conn~! too much…!”

“uh-uh, take this shit.”

he fucks you deeper, guttural moans escaping out your throat as you become putty in his hands, your slick dripping down between your asscheeks.

“there you go…yeahhhhh..”

“conn-nie…waitt~…”

he smiles in response to your plea, smacking his hips against your skin with more force. your moans turn into squeals, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“oh shit..damn..”

clear juices fly out of your hole and spray onto yourself and his stomach. a shit eating grin forms on his face, pulling back a bit so he can get a better view.

“there you go mama, let that shit out. let it out”

you continue squirting on him as he fucks you through it, grunting heavily as he feels your wall spasm around him and your wetness. his thumb finds your clit, added an extra sensation of pleasure.

“messy little slut…ion know what imma do with you..”

he absolutely loves it.

©𝑹𝑼𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑮𝑭

sevsgiirl

— sevika having baby fever

synopsis: after waking up from a rather unexpected dream, sevika’s been a little bit more handsy than usual, as well as suggesting ideas you never would’ve thought would come out of her mouth. but you’re not against it.

tags: mentions of pregnancy, top!sevika, bottom!reader, breeding kink, strap-ons, daddy kink.

notes: just a small little drabble because the idea of sevika having baby fever enticed me, also don’t ask me about the back to back horny posting I don’t know what took over me either.

the idea of a child never appealed to sevika.

it’s not that she hates kids, she was actually quite neutral about them. she found them adorable, but not having one wasn’t something she’d consider a loss

so she doesn’t understand where the goddamn dream came from.

it came to her in a blur, but one moment she was in deep slumber, her vision engulfed in darkness then the next, your face suddenly showed. this wasn’t the first time she’s dreamt about you, as a matter of fact you’re a reoccurring actress in almost all of her dreams. specifically the lewd ones.

and in this dream you stayed relatively the same. your hair was still at its familiar length, along with the crookedness of your smile and the same twinkle in your eyes.

satorena

HOTLINE BL☆NG!

summ. wine nights and free will? a recipe for disaster— such as matching your ex on a corny dating app and having him in your bed within that same hour. . .

cw. eventual smut. 18+. fem!reader. alcohol/substance consumption. ex boyfriend!gojo. mild toxicity. breakup & makeup. girlhood ft jjk girlies. unreliable narrator sorta. sukuna slander. mild impact play. mild asphyxiation. oral (f). fíngering. backshōts. reader is a little questionable. self sabotaging my beloved. lowkey angsty. @/3aem on tumblr for art creds. most of these stories are real shit i’ve heard/experienced LOL. can you tell i’ve never used tinder a day in my life? 16.4k words. . oops.

rena’s note. @yung-notorious and her filthy mind. . .

“you like it when i fuck you like this? yeah you do.”

god, you do.

you can’t bring yourself to remember why you’d ever let go of dick this good. the kind that had you taking the rubber off and considering finishing inside. the kind that had you babbling apologies for having done absolutely nothing wrong. the kind that made you begin to believe his careless whispers, empty promises to work things out.

his fingers dig in the column of your throat, the weight of his hand wrapped tightly at your neck. he’s everywhere at once, but simultaneously no where to be found. while you can feel his tip prodding at your most sensitive spot, you don’t feel the overwhelming force of love he once bore with open arms for you.

“nahhh. . . don’t start running now.” you didn’t realize you were. the sheets are crumpled in your tight hold, while your other hand lightly pushes at his lower abdomen. naturally, he pins your wrist at your spine to maintain his ruthless pace, and with another gentle yet cruelly empty promise, “not when i’ve just gotten you back.”

how the fuck did you get yourself in this mess?

cruel-seduction-deactivated2026

Your boyfriend isn’t just fucking you—he’s ruining you.

Face down, ass up, knees burning against the mattress, you're barely holding yourself up anymore. Your arms gave out five minutes ago, but that didn’t stop him—nothing ever does when he’s in one of his moods.

His pace is relentless, deep, punishing, like he’s got something to prove, like he wants to break you. His cock slams into your cunt over and over again, stretching you open, forcing you to take him, to keep taking him, even though your body is shaking, even though you’re gasping for air between sobs.

“Oh, what happened to all that mouth, huh?” he taunted, voice sharp, mocking. His hand came down hard against your ass, making you whimper. “Talked all that shit—now look at you. Crying like a dumb little whore. Where’d that attitude go, baby?”

You can’t even answer. Your mouth is open, but all that comes out is a broken moan, spit dribbling down your chin as he fucks you so deep your toes curl.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles darkly, snapping his hips forward harder, making you jolt with every thrust. “You begged for this. Begged me to stretch you out , begged me to fuck you so dumb you couldn’t even think.”

And he is.

Your thoughts are mush, your body isn’t your own anymore—it’s his, only his, to use however he wants. And he knows it.

His hand snakes down, fingers finding your clit, rubbing harsh circles over the swollen, throbbing bud. The shock of pleasure makes you scream, legs kicking out as you try to squirm away, but he only tightens his grip on your hair, keeping you still.

“Nuh-uh, baby. You take what I give you,” he grunts, drilling into you harder, each stroke punching moans out of your lungs. “I think you can give me one more, can't you baby?”

Tears spill from your eyes, wetting the sheets beneath you. “P-please—”

“Please what?” he taunts, leaning over you, pressing his chest against your back, breath hot against your ear. “Please don’t make you cum again? Please don’t keep wrecking this pretty pussy?”

Your body betrays you, clenching around him, sucking him in even deeper.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, hips stuttering for a moment before he collects himself, hand smacking against your ass, the sting making you yelp. “That’s it, baby. Get nice and tight for me—gonna make you cum so hard you forget your own name.”

You’re already there. Already gone, falling apart, nails clawing at the sheets as the pleasure builds too fast, too intense, too much—

And then you break.

Your whole body seizes, pleasure detonating through you in sharp, white-hot waves. You sob, scream, legs kicking weakly as your cunt milks his cock, tightening so much it hurts.

“Shit, look at you,” he groans, watching as your body spasms, as you sob through your orgasm. “Such a messy little thing. You love this, don’t you? ”

You’re too wrecked to answer, too lost in the feeling of him still pounding into you, using your body even as you tremble through your orgasm.

His thrusts grow erratic, deeper, needier.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

With a sharp growl, he slams deep one last time, shoving his cock in to the hilt as he fills you, thick ropes of cum spilling inside your ruined pussy.

For a moment, all you hear is the sound of his heavy breathing, the rapid pound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

Then—

“Damn, baby,” he huffs, pressing a wet kiss to your shoulder. “You good?”

You can’t even move. Can’t even think. All you can do is lay there, gasping, legs still twitching from aftershocks.

He laughs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

His fingers drag through the mess between your thighs, smearing his cum along your puffy folds. “Hope you didn’t think we were done.”

And before you can even catch your breath, he’s flipping you over, pushing your knees to your chest, spreading you open to ruin you all over again.

this this w caitlyn??

sb write it rn

#pzz zone #arcane #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn smut

xoxolilixx

☽︎ 𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡 ☾︎

✩𝙀𝙠𝙠𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧✩

✩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - your ego is bigger than your cunt, and now your forced to eat your words by Ekko's hands.

✩𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 - SMUT. pet names, crying, ekko being a asshole, unprotected sex(WRAP THAT SHIT BEFORE YOU TAP THAT SHIT)

✩𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - this is my first smut in a while and I feel like I overdid it with the details🥲 Nonetheless I hope you guys enjoy it ❤︎

You were always a little cocky. You thought the most of yourself, and that was fine, that's what Ekko loved about you, especially in moments where it came to bite you in the ass, like now.

"Are you sure, love?" He chuckled softly as he sat down in his desk chair, leant back with his knees spread as his dark beautiful eyes watched as you sat atop his desk, "I don't wanna break you." You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing and condescending tone, taking it as his way of challenging you as you hopped off his desk, "I'll be just fine, Ekko," you smirked as you maneuvered yourself in between his thighs, making his face somewhat leveled with the blessing in between your legs. "I'm a big girl, baby, I can handle myself," You continued as you stood before him in nothing but short, tight, black leather shorts that were paired nicely with fishnets and a makeshift crop top. The soft and plush skin of your thick thighs pushed through the holes of the fishnets, he couldn't help but eye you up and down to take in all of your curves. It wasn't until you gently pinched his chin with your thumb and pointer finger that he stopped looking at you, his eyes locking yours before he smirked. "You a big girl, huh?" He chuckled. "Yea, I'm not like those other bitches you used to fuck, I can actually handle it," you smirked as you leaned down closer to him, your hands resting on his arm rests as you bent down. Something about the way your body was bent down and the way your words slipped past your lips, it made his dick jump in his cargo pants. "Alright, show me how much of a big girl you are~"

He forced your words right back down your throat when he barely sinks the tip of his cinnamon brown, 8.5 inch, girthy cock into your soft, tight, little pussy and you start whimpering, panting out tiny little breaths as you feel him slowly stretch you open. "Damn baby, I thought you were a big girl," he chuckled "you can't even get past the tip princess," he cooed as his big form trapped you against the bed, his hand holding his weight up from beside your head as you look up at him with those big, needy, doe eyes. You didn't even have a comeback for his teasing comment, instead a broken whine slipped past your lips. He couldn't help the grunt that came out when your pussy tightened around his tip like a vice in an attempt to force him out. The mixture of your tightness and the sight of your pretty face scrunched up as you tried to inch away from him made his cock twitch as precum spilt out of his tip.

"Fuckk~" you whimpered as he free hand gripped your hip, tugging you back to him with a breathy chuckle, "c'mon princess, don't tap out now, you doing so good f'me," he cooed mockingly, coaxing tears from your eyes as he sunk deeper into your tight pussy. "Poor baby, what's wrong?" He smirked as he reached up, wiping your tears from your cheeks with his thumb. His condescending tone made you want to curl up into a ball, you suddenly felt so much smaller under him, and your sniffing and crying as he sunk farther into you didn't help.

The stretch hurt so much that it left your legs shaking and you clawing at his forearms. You were thankful that Ekko had ditched the his condescendingness, gently coaxing you through it with "your doing so good f'me," and "I got you baby, just a little more," before messily kissing you so deeply that it left your head spinning with love. All whilst holding the back of your knees to your chest, leaving your feet dangling over his shoulders as he watched his cock bully its way into your tight, weeping pussy.

"Shit baby, I bet you wished you listened to me now~" he cooed softly as his eyes rolled back, feeling you clench down on him so hard that he could barely move in you.

After that, you learned to not be so cocky and listen to him…

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