rawrrrrrrrrrr

isfp Ι semifictophillic

[vergils-beloved]

walking into the kitchen to find your f/o spraying whipped cream from the can straight into their mouth

[onemasc4all]

nonsexual dominance >>>>

"ill handle it"

"be ready at 7"

"don't worry about that"

"i took care of it"

"be a good girl for me"

*plans, anticipates, leads, nurtures*

[moonstonejpg]

trying out cockwarming with your fave (who is your best friend), the both of you trembling and breathless as you try to make it through an entire movie without fucking :)

[rahroarrawr]

sick day

fluffy

you wake up to the sound of your name, soft and insistent, like he's been saying it for a while.

"love," he murmurs, and his hand finds yours under the covers, his fingers lacing through yours, squeezing. "you're awake. you're awake."

you blink, turning toward him. he's flushed, his hair dark with sweat, his eyes too bright. you felt his forehead last night, the heat there, and he'd groaned, pressing into your palm like a cat seeking warmth.

"how are you feeling?" you ask, your voice rough with sleep.

"missed you," he says, which doesn't answer the question at all. he tugs your hand, pulling you closer, and you go, letting him wrap himself around you, his face burying in your neck, his breathing warm and too-hot against your skin.

"you saw me few hours ago," you say, but you're smiling, your hand finding his hair, stroking.

"too long," he mumbles, his arm banding tight around your waist. "kept waking up. you weren't there."

"i was right here."

"not close enough." he presses closer, his leg hooking over yours, his chest flush against your side. he's burning up, you can feel it through his thin t-shirt, and you reach for the water on the nightstand, but he catches your wrist, gentle, his thumb stroking your pulse.

"stay," he whispers, his eyes finding yours, glassy and soft. "just a minute. please."

you set the glass down, settling back against him, and he hums, satisfied, his face nuzzling your shoulder, your jaw, anywhere he can reach.

"love you," he says, out of nowhere, his voice thick. "so much. so much, love. you're so good to me. the best. i'm so lucky."

"you're feverish," you say, but your chest tightens, warm.

"mean it," he insists, his hand sliding up your back, his fingers spreading wide, possessive even now, especially now. "you're perfect. perfect. i don't deserve you. you're so patient. so pretty. so warm."

he's rambling, you know, the fever loosening his tongue, but his eyes are so sincere, so open, his usual careful walls stripped away. he tells you everything, then, how he watches you sleep, how he loves your hands, your voice, the way you laugh at his terrible jokes. he confesses secrets, small ones, things he likes, things he's afraid of, things he wants, his mouth soft against your skin between words.

"never leave me," he whispers, his arms tightening, his voice breaking slightly. "promise. promise you'll stay."

"always," you say, your throat tight, your hand stroking his hair, his back, anywhere you can reach. "i'm not going anywhere."

he relaxes., his breathing slowing, but he doesn't let go. he can't, it seems, his body seeking yours constantly, readjusting, pulling you closer, his face pressed to your chest, your shoulder, your throat, his lips brushing your collarbone, your jaw, your mouth, soft and reverent and endless.

"you're my favorite," he mumbles, his eyes drifting closed, then snapping open again, afraid, you realize, of falling asleep, of losing this.

"i know," you whisper, and he smiles, his thumb tracing your lower lip, your cheekbone, the shell of your ear.

"tell me," he says, his voice small, vulnerable. "tell me you love me. i need to hear it."

"love you," you say, and he shivers, his eyes closing, his face pressing into your palm. "love you so much. you're ridiculous. i love you."

"again," he breathes.

"love you."

"again."

"love you, love you, love you."

he smiles, satisfied, his arms loosening just slightly, his body finally, finally relaxing into sleep. but even then, his hand finds yours, his fingers lacing through yours, holding on, holding tight.

you stay, of course. you always do. his breathing evens out, his face soft, and you watch him, this man who holds you so carefully, who asks for so little, who needs you now, openly, without his usual guard.

"love you so much," you whisper again, because you can, because he can't hear, because it's true.

his hand squeezes yours in his sleep, his thumb stroking your knuckles.

yours, you think. always yours.

[undespaired-love]

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮

f/o calling you “my love” especially on days you aren’t feeling the best, and just need some extra comfort.

(˘︶˘).｡.:*♡

╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

[dreamlitkiss]

Imagine being your f/o's soulmate..

Oh, no. Wait.

You already are <3

[nebulusts]

JUST THINKING ABOUT asking him to peel an orange for you, watching how the sticky sweet citrus drips between his fingertips, sliding down slender digits, staining his knuckles and slipping into the ridges of his skin. thinking about how he knows you're watching him, finding it endearing how your eyes track each and every movement, how your lips tremble the slightest and your own hands twitch to touch, to taste. just thinking about how he scoops up some of the juice, droplets clinging to his fingers, how he brings them up right to your lips and just rests the tips of them right on the plumpness of your bottom one before gently murmuring, "open for me, pretty girl" and you do because there's not a bone in your body that could ever disobey him, letting him slide them into your mouth and rest them on your tongue, watching through a heavy lidded gaze as you suck his fingers clean for him.

[nebulusts]

THINKING ABOUT THE men who may fuck rough but love so softly. despite the heavy slam of his hips rutting into you he's got one arm snaked beneath your trembling body, nestled in the small of your back where the pad of his thumb draws small shape, tilting you upwards to meet every eager thrust while his other hand cradles the back of your head — even though there's a pillow below it — holding you so gently between scarred fingertips, tilting your chin up so he can swallow every little sound you make, every hitched breath and every shaky whimper while he pours praise between your parted lips, "that's my girl. just like that. such a good girl for me. i've got you."

[takaholic]

Waking up in the morning to kisses trailing up your bare back exposed in the sheets

[kittennextdoor]

━ (18+) dry humping your bf till he cums in his boxers ‎ꫂ᭪݁

You straddled your boyfriend on the couch, grinding your soaked pussy down on him repeatedly. Your thin panties were completely drenched, clinging obscenely to your folds as you rocked your hips faster, rubbing your swollen clit along the thick outline of his dick through his boxers.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, hands gripping your ass, yanking you down harder against him. “Keep humping me like that, baby. Gonna make me cum in my fucking boxers.”

You moaned filthily, rolling your hips in messy circles, pressing your dripping pussy against him with shameless need. The wet spot on your panties grew bigger with every grind, soaking through the fabric of his boxers until you could feel the heat of his throbbing cock twitching beneath you.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, riding him faster, your tits bouncing in your tank top as you chased it.

“Yeah? Cum for me baby,” he growled, thrusting up roughly to meet your movements. “Make a mess all over me.”

A few more frantic grinds and you shattered, crying out as your pussy clenched and pulsed, soaking your panties and his boxers with your cum. The feeling of you creaming all over him pushed him over the edge immediately. He let out a deep, guttural moan, hips jerking up as he came hard, thick ropes of cum flooding his boxers, pulsing against your soaked pussy while you kept grinding through both your orgasms.

You stayed on top of him, panting, feeling his warm load spreading between you as your combined wetness made everything slick and filthy. “Shit…” he breathed, still twitching. “Look what you did to me.”

[rahroarrawr]

gaming

mdni. 18+ content ahead

female reader x male (whoever u have in mind😉)

he's at his desk, headset on, fingers flying over the keyboard, completely absorbed in the game glowing on the monitor. you've been watching him from the doorway for ten minutes, the way his shoulders tense under his thin t-shirt, the way his jaw clenches when he's focused, the outline of his cock pressing against his sweatpants as he shifts in his chair.

you've decided you've waited long enough. you already skipped the underwear when you got dressed this morning, thinking of exactly this moment.

you cross the room silently, barefoot on the carpet, and stop behind his chair. he doesn't notice, too lost in the match, his voice low as he speaks to his friends through the mic. you lean down, your hands sliding over his shoulders, your lips brushing his ear.

"pause," you whisper.

he startles, his character stumbling on screen, his head turning toward you. "babe, i'm in the middle of-"

"pause," you repeat, your hand sliding down his chest, lower, your palm pressing against the hardening shape of him through his sweatpants. "or don't. your choice. but i'm taking what i want either way."

he groans, his hips bucking up into your touch involuntarily. "fuck, love, i'm in a ranked match, i can't just-"

you reach over and click his mic mute, your eyes never leaving his. "now you can."

you sink to your knees beside his chair, your hands working at his waistband, pulling him free. he's already half-hard, thick and warm in your palm, and you stroke him slowly, watching his face in the monitor's glow, watching him struggle to focus on the screen while you touch him.

"keep playing," you murmur, your breath hot against his thigh.

you take him into your mouth, your tongue circling the head, your hand working the shaft. he chokes back a moan, his fingers freezing on the keyboard, his whole body going tense.

"love," he gasps, his voice strained, his eyes darting between the screen and you kneeling between his legs. "please, i can't- ah, fuck-"

you pull back, your hand still stroking, your eyes locked on his. "you can. or you can tell them you have to go. but if you stay, you're not cumming until i say. understand?"

he nods frantically, his cock throbbing in your grip, and you smile, returning to your task, your mouth hot and wet around him. he tries to keep playing, his fingers moving mechanically, his eyes on the game, but you can feel him losing focus, feel his hips jerking, his breath coming ragged.

you pull off again, your hand slowing, denying him the friction he needs. "not yet," you whisper, your free hand sliding beneath your skirt, finding yourself already wet, already ready, no barrier between your fingers and your heat. "want you hard for me a little longer. want to know you're aching while you try to focus."

"already aching," he breathes, his voice hoarse, his eyes pleading. "love, please, let me-"

"shh," you soothe, standing up, your skirt falling back into place. you move his chair back from the desk, giving yourself room, and climb onto his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. "i'm going to use you now. and you're going to keep playing. and you're not going to cum until i say."

you sink down onto him in one slow movement, your head falling back at the stretch, at the fullness. he groans, his hands leaving the keyboard, his fingers digging into your hips.

"no hands," you order, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the armrests. "keep them there. good boy."

you set the pace, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles, your clit grinding against him with each movement. he's moaning softly, trying to muffle the sounds, his eyes darting to the screen where his character is standing still, vulnerable, his team calling his name through the headset he can no longer answer.

"going to fill me up?" you whisper, your voice teasing, your pace quickening. "going to put your release deep inside me while you try to play? going to breed me while your friends have no idea?"

"yes," he gasps, his jaw clenched, his whole body trembling. "yes, love, please, i'm so close, please let me-"

"not yet," you breathe, your own orgasm building, the heat coiling tight. "want to feel you swell inside me. want to know you're desperate."

you grind down harder, your clit seeking friction, your pussy clenching around him. he's whimpering now, soft broken sounds, his eyes glazed, the game forgotten, his whole world narrowed to you moving on top of him, using him, taking what you want.

"please," he begs, his voice wrecked. "please, love, can't hold it, going to-"

"cum," you order, your own release crashing through you, your pussy clamping down, milking him. "cum inside me now. fill me up."

he breaks with a ragged groan, his cock pulsing, his hips bucking up into you as he spills deep, his release hot and thick, flooding you. you keep moving through it, drawing out every pulse, every shudder, watching his face as he comes undone beneath you.

"good boy," you whisper, your hand stroking his hair as he trembles, his breathing ragged. "such a good boy, giving me everything."

you stay there, connected, his cum spilling out around him, your head resting on his shoulder. after a moment, you reach over and unmute his mic, your voice sweet and innocent.

"sorry guys," you say into the headset. "he had to take a quick break. he's back now."

you hear groans of exasperation and catcalls.

he laughs, breathless, his arms finally wrapping around you, holding you close. "you're evil," he murmurs against your hair.

you just grin, and peck his lips.

[dynapuff]

When you’re pawing at him, leg wrapped around him, grinding and humping and whining in bed and he finally puts his book down with a quiet sigh and pulls of his glasses like “Alright alright baby, I’ll give you what you want…” and then he flips you over and starts grinding his cock—which is hard because of your pawing—through your folds.

[txmxkis]

riding them but you keep getting distracted bending down to kiss them so they get impatient and flip you over to take control

[lvmimis]

thinking about f/o heavy, sweaty and entirely spent on top of you, their heart beating so fast against your chest, your bodies still connected

and then they pause, and turn their head and kiss your cheek for just a moment and it’s love and gratitude transmitted in that split second

[rahroarrawr]

please

based on this post

he'd been planning it for months. you knew that, could feel it in the way he'd been lately, distracted and soft, his eyes finding yours across rooms with something weighty in them. you'd pretended not to notice, let him have his secrets, but you'd wondered, sometimes, how he'd do it, what words he'd choose, where.

not here, apparently. not with the speech he'd practiced, the small velvet box burning a hole in his pocket.

you'd been walking, that's all, your hand in his, the park quiet and golden in late afternoon. he'd stopped, turned to face you, and you'd seen it immediately, the nerves hitting him all at once, his face going pale, his free hand shaking slightly as he reached for his pocket.

"love," he'd started, and his voice cracked. he cleared his throat, tried again. "love, i wanted to say-"

he stopped. his eyes went wide, searching yours, and you watched him reach for words that weren't there, the practiced speech evaporating, leaving him bare and terrified and beautiful.

he sank to his knees, right there on the path, the grass damp beneath his jeans. his hands found yours, both of them now, gripping tight, and he looked up at you, his throat working, his eyes bright.

"please," he whispered.

just that. nothing else. his voice broke on it, rough and honest and desperate.

you felt your own eyes sting, your heart clenching in your chest. you'd imagined this moment a hundred ways, imagined eloquence, romance, the perfect words. but this, this raw vulnerability, this man on his knees in a park, his whole heart in his eyes, begging you with a single syllable-

"yes," you said, before he could panic, before he could find more words, apologize, start over. "yes, of course yes."

his face crumpled, relief and joy and disbelief flooding through, and he laughed, shaky, pressing his forehead to your hands, his shoulders shaking.

"really?" he asked, muffled against your skin.

"really, you idiot." you were crying now, smiling, tugging at his hands. "get up, come here-"

he stood, unsteady, and you met him halfway, your arms around his neck, his face buried in your shoulder, his breathing ragged and warm against your throat.

"i had a speech," he mumbled, his arms banding tight around your waist.

"it was a very good speech."

"it was terrible. i forgot all of it."

"i know."

"i just-" he pulled back, his hands coming up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing your tears away, his own eyes wet. "i just want you. forever. that's all i had, that's all-"

"that's enough," you whispered.

he kissed you then, soft and salt and shaking, and you felt him smile against your mouth, felt him fumble in his pocket, his hand trembling as he pulled out the box. he broke the kiss to look at you, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing unsteady.

"can i?" he asked, his voice barely there.

you nodded, holding out your left hand, and he opened the box with clumsy fingers, the ring catching the light. he slid it onto your finger, his touch gentle, reverent, his eyes never leaving yours.

"please," he said again, softer now, and you laughed, breathless, and kissed him, and said yes, yes, yes, until he believed it.

[mewnbuns]

a kiss dropped on your shoulder from behind, a kiss pressed against your cheek from behind, a kiss pressed against your temple from behind, a kiss pressed against your hair from behind, a kiss—

[rahroarrawr]

his

mdni 18+ content ahead

female reader x male (whoever u have in mind😉)

you're already arching when he starts, your hips lifting off the mattress, seeking friction. he notices. he always notices.

"eager," he murmurs, his palm flattening against your stomach, pressing you back down. "stay still, love."

you try. you really do. but his thumb is tracing circles on your hip, too light, too slow, and you want more.

he reaches for the scarf on the nightstand, your favorite one, silk, soft. he loops it around your wrists with deliberate care, his knuckles brushing your pulse points, checking the tension twice even though he knows it's right.

"too tight?" he asks.

you shake your head, testing the give. the headboard creaks softly when he secures the end, and then you're held, open, waiting.

he sits back on his heels. his eyes drag down your body, naked and flushed for him, and you feel yourself heat under the attention, exposed and wanted all at once.

"beautiful," he says, like he's talking to himself.

he touches your ankle first, just his thumb, tracing the bone. then his palm slides up your calf, your knee, the inside of your thigh. he stops before he reaches where you're aching, and you make a noise, frustrated.

"shh," he says, and presses his palm flat against your hip again, holding you still. "i'm looking."

he takes his time. he always does. his fingers map your ribs, the hollow of your throat, the curve of your waist. he avoids your breasts, your clit, everywhere you need him, and the anticipation builds thick in your throat.

"please," you whisper.

"please what?"

"touch me."

"i am touching you." his thumb brushes your lower lip, and you part your mouth automatically. he watches you do it, something dark flickering in his expression. "everywhere. that's what you wanted, isn't it? to be touched everywhere?"

you nod, helpless.

he finally cups your breast, his thumb grazing your nipple, and you arch into it, seeking more pressure. he gives it, rolling the peak between his fingers until you're whimpering, your hips rolling against nothing.

"keep still," he says gently, and you try, you do, but then his other hand slides between your legs and finds you slick and swollen and you buck against his palm.

he tsks, soft, and withdraws. you cry out, bereft, and he leans down to kiss your jaw, your throat, whispering "easy, love, easy, i've got you" against your skin.

"can't," you gasp. "need-"

"i know what you need." he shifts back, kneeling between your thighs, and you watch him finally, finally push his sweatpants down, kicking them off somewhere onto the floor. his shirt comes next, rucked up over his head, and then he's bare above you, skin warm and familiar, his cock hard against his stomach.

he settles back between your legs, his weight pressing you into the mattress, and you feel him hot against your hip, still soft-skinned and perfect. the imbalance sends heat spiraling through you, naked while he was clothed, now equal.

"look at me," he says, and you do. he guides himself into you slow, so slow, and you gasp at the stretch, the sudden fullness after all that teasing.

he doesn't move yet. he's watching your face, checking, always checking.

"okay?" he asks, his voice rougher now, his control showing cracks.

"yes. yes, move, please-"

he pulls your legs up, hooks your knees over his shoulders, and the angle changes, deepens. you gasp, your hands pulling against the silk, the restraint sending a fresh wave of arousal through you.

he starts moving then, unhurried, his hips rolling in a rhythm he knows will drive you mad. every stroke drags against that spot inside you, deliberate, measured, and you're already so close, wound tight from his hands, his mouth, the waiting.

"not yet," he says, reading your body like he wrote the language. he slows down, pulls almost all the way out, and you sob, trying to pull him back in with your legs.

"shh. feel this." he pushes back in, agonizingly slow, and you feel every ridge, every vein, the heat of him bare inside you. "feel me, love. just me. nothing else."

you're trembling, your orgasm hovering just out of reach, and he keeps you there, balanced on the edge, his thrusts steady and relentless and perfect. his hand finds yours where it's gripping the headboard above your head, his fingers threading through, squeezing.

"let go," he whispers. "i've got you. let go."

and you do. you fall apart around him, your pussy clamping down, your cry breaking in your throat. he keeps fucking you through it, gentle, drawing it out, until you're shaking, oversensitive, and then he finally lets himself go, burying his face in your neck, groaning long and low as he spills inside you.

after, he unties you with shaking hands, kisses your wrists where the silk left faint marks. he pulls you into his arms and you go, limp and wrung out, your head on his chest.

"good?" he asks, his voice soft again, almost shy.

you hum, pressing closer. "perfect."

he smiles against your hair, his hand settling possessive on your hip. "mine."

you don't argue. you are.