Hello, And Good Day King Adonis!

I think monsterfucking is about vulnerability. When you think about it

⁀➷ ∵ the soft blue guy

⟶ oc!na'vi x reader

⟶ cw. pure fluffy thirst, short smut, unprotected sex, size kink, SIZE : P na'vis are huge after all, established relationship, interspecies, alien!sex, lots of kissing, lovey dovey + more

⟶ note. hi! this is really short : ) just testing the waters

you never realized how pretty they were. well, from the photographs they just seemed like overly large blue cat people. up close, it's different–like any other species their skin had multiple hues.

soft fingers skim his sharp cheekbones, hues of turquoise and sky blue–darker, richer hued stripes peppered his warm skin. his eyes shut feeling the heat of your touch, and softness continues to linger across his lids–long dark lashes against your fingers. just like his hair.

his noise twitches when you touch it. your lips spread into a cheeky grin and a chuckle leaves your lips. he scrunchies his wide nose bridge shaking his head playfully as if trying to get you off him. "play nice."

"nice? you're making my eyes water with your tiny fingers poking around at it." little strands of hair loosen from his braids from his day out. you scoff, reaching quickly to nip his ears between your fingers.

"ouch." his eyebrows stitched holding onto his pierced ears, littered with hoops all over the cartilage.

you lean towards his face and press your lips against his nose, a gentle kiss that makes his skin brighten and face flush. "hush, you crybaby."

"i am an adult, not a baby."

you lean back onto your palms, "it's just a term, to tease you."

"i do not enjoy your teasing." he nudges into the crook of your shoulder, taking a chomp of your skin, "mate."

"i'm not your mate. you forget."

he breathes, groaning against your skin. "i recall, my love. you refuse to mate with me."

you roll your eyes, drawing his face into your palms, "do you recall what we're doing?" you breath out a moan, feeling him thrust upwards into you.

his lips stretch into a grin, "of course, i enjoy how warm you are." his lips blue, dusted with some purple press a wet kiss on your throat as he sucks on it. you throw your head back, releasing more music to his ears. you're sure this is his favourite position, after all it's uncommon for you to be his height in most situations.

riding him allowed that, and he loved feeling all of you. kissing all of you whilst you did so, he almost rarely allowed you to control the pace of it all–constantly interrupting your rhythm with his hungry ruts. you took too long, as he says.

you roll your hips into him, holding onto his large thighs on your sides as you did. your legs rested on his hips, whilst his entirety punishes your insides. "i still want you to be mine."

"i am yours."

he growls, "i want you to be mine, i want to devote my love to you under eywa."

you know what he means. yet you don't even know if it's possible, it's barely possible to think right now. your mind drunk on his touch and body burning with heated arousal. the angle was almost painful, his cock larger than anything you knew, you recall the first time you took him–he was so proud, pleased you were capable of taking him.

seemed like fucking him inside your makeshift treehouse and home for this mission wasn't enough for him. "my love, eywa is everywhere, is she not?"

his eyes glimmer, you were right. after all, all the sacred lands were destroyed, where would you perform such mating ritual and well, you weren't exactly capable to joining yourself to him in ways the na'vi would.

he loved the way you spoke, so intelligent, so wise. you always knew what to say. his large hand holds your cheek with love, he smiles, "will you be mine?"

he captures your lips. warm and tender it was. he picks up his pace slightly, causing your body to burn. it becomes sloppy, hungry–lips attempting to devour one another. between his heavy strokes and everlasting kiss you manage to catch your breath.

"i've always been yours," you say, breathless–dazed, "now stop asking, and fuck me properly."

he lets out a snort, shaking his head. "my love, your tongue is primitive." he pushes off his butt, pushing you into the soft blankets and cushions splayed across the floor, the bed wasn't big enough to fit him. he angles you, ready to pound, your toes curl feeling him enter so slowly, "but of course, i will fuck you properly."

© moongumi 2022. all rights reserved, do not copy and publish my writing anywhere else.

really wanna get back into writing and start with nsfw too so send in ideas/requests :)

Flustered (Steven Grant x Reader)

Summary: Steven loves spooning. He loves the closeness, the comfort, and he happens to really love your ass. You do the old "innocent wiggle" a few times to see his reaction.

Rating: Explicit! 18+ only, minors DNI

CW: Smut, fluff, possessiveness, PIV sex unprotected (be smarter), edging

A/N: big thank you to @love-on-the-murder-scene for always giving the best ideas and having the same slutty smutty thoughts as I do. you are an absolute gem and I adore you!

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

You yawned, stretching your arms in the air as you leaned against the back on the couch. Steven pulled his nose from his book, his eyes trailing down your figure as your shirt hem lifted, showing off your belly.

"Hmm," he moaned softly before glancing at the clock. "It is kinda late, innit? I guess I was lost in my reading." He said as he took his glasses off and squeezed the bridge of his nose between 2 fingers.

You smiled, watching him with adoring eyes. You loved how much he loved his books.

"Why don't you bring that sexy book to bed?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"I just love you," Steven said with excitement as he rose from the couch, offering you his hand. You stood, and he pulled you to the bedroom.

Steven read to you for a bit about the ancient Egyptians, making little remarks here and there and adding his own two-cents anywhere he could. You admired his passion and the way his voice grew higher when he got excited.

He rubbed his eyes, squinting at the pages.

"You've been reading too long, baby," you said sweetly as you took the book, rolling on your side to set it on the night stand.

"I suppose you're right," he sighed, sinking down the mattress so he could cuddle up behind you. He squeezed your middle as he kissed your shoulder, mumbling about the sweet smell of your hair.

You felt his breath slowing as he got comfortable enough to fall asleep against you. He nuzzled the back of your neck as his thumb rubbed back and forth over your hip.

You smiled to yourself as you felt the growing bulge in his boxers nudging your thigh. You couldn't help but wiggle your hips just a little.

He tensed behind you, gripping your hip tighter as your ass rubbed against his erection. He wasn't sure if you meant to or not.

"Love?" he whispered, brushing the hair from your face to peek at your eyes. You kept them closed, wanting to play with him a little longer.

After a few moments, you wiggled your hips again, this time adding more pressure. He whimpered a bit, before biting his lower lip to try and stay quiet.

His breath quickened as he tried to adjust himself, always the gentleman. You couldn't help but tease him. He was sexy in the most adorable way.

You sighed sleepily, rolling your hips backward and against his crotch, settling his cock between your cheeks and moving slowly up and down his shaft. The jig was up.

He moaned gently, throwing his head back against the pillow and fiddling with your Tshirt to get his hand underneath it, eager to find your tits.

You moaned, arching your back to lean into his grasp while grinding even harder against his cock.

"Oh bloody hell," he whined as you grinded against him at a faster pace, reaching back to hold his hip and anchor yourself to him.

His hand slipped from under your shirt directly down past your belly and into your panties, his fingers frantically trying to find your clit. He gasped as he felt your wetness, bucking his hips against your ass.

You hummed in approval, turning your head to look back at him writhing against your backside.

He glanced down at you and attacked your mouth with kisses, his breathy moans growing louder as you slipped your hand into his boxers, wrapping it around the base of his dick. You pumped it a few times as you slipped it out of his shorts.

"Fuck.." he whimpered as he snatched your panties down your legs, leaving them around your knees as he laid his cock against your bare ass, exhaling as his eyes rolled back at the contact.

You sighed at the feeling of skin to skin, especially revelling in how hard he was for you. You shifted your leg forward, leading him to your entrance as you palmed his tip, smearing precum all over it. He placed his large hand under your thigh, lifting it further as he slid into you slowly, filling you completely.

"Oh my fucking god," you gasped as he sank his teeth into your shoulder gently, letting himself sit still inside of you for a moment so your pussy could adjust to his size.

"So tight," he whimpered, "...all mine"

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding quickly and looking up into his eyes. He groaned as that look drove him absolutely wild.

He moved his hips slowly at first, letting you feel every inch of him massaging your walls. He quickly picked up speed as he fucked into you, muttering out unintelligible curses. You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, clinging to him as he forced your moans from you.

The bed slammed into the wall repeatedly, books falling off the headboard and clattering to the ground. It only encouraged him as he clenched his jaw, furrowing his brow as he pounded you.

"Stev...en!" You cried out in broken moans as your orgasm built inside your core.

"Gonna cum for me?" He asked sweetly, looking down at the mess he'd turned you into.

All you could do was shake your head yes, euphoric tears spilling down your face as he lifted your leg higher, sinking in even deeper at an angle.

"Fuck, that's my girl" he groaned as he felt you tightening around him with every thrust, feeling his own orgasm building now.

You knew he was getting close as his breaths were more sporadic and his thighs began to shake. Glossy eyes and blushed cheeks, he was beautiful in this state. You reached around and gently grabbed his balls, softly stroking them as his mouth fell open in surprise. "Oh, gods.." he moaned out, the face he made was enough to make you cum, and you did.

Steven reached up in an instant, gently wrapping his hand around your throat as you came, forcing you deeper into your state of pleasure as he stilled, shaking as he came inside of you.

The sounds that came out of you were explicit, loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and you were sure he'd be embarrassed by it. He seemed quite the opposite as he littered your neck and face with sloppy, wet kisses, rocking himself through the rest of his orgasm inside of you.

Steven collapsed behind you into the bed, holding you close as he caught his breath, pressing his forehead to your back.

He groaned as he pulled out of you, rolling out of the bed. He walked around your side and helped you sit up, to which you protested.

"I know, love, but let's get you to the loo," he said as he helped you and your wobbly legs out of bed.

"No UTIs on my watch!" He said with a silly voice, winning a giggle from you.

-----------

END

A/N: I bet Steven is amazing with aftercare and knows tons about women's sex health 🥰

Something we need to talk about more is the fact that's its practically canon that Matt has a choking kink????In season 2 him and Electra are having sex and he grabs her throat???I feel like this should constantly be discussed because oh my god!!!

two am automatic;

pairing. frank castle x female! reader warnings. swearing. alcohol, loud music, annoying neighbours. choking, female receiving fingering and penetration. ummm, talkative frank? i kno right. he says some nasty shit   an. yeah i kno. i kno okay? i kno, i kno i kno i kno. i finally wrote a fic about my fave boy. pls reblog and comment, yall kno the drill<33

synopsis. your neighbour is an asshole and plays her music at 2am. at first, frank is civil, then when she does it again, he’s not so civil anymore.

Keep reading

Men who sound like they’re gonna cry when they cum.

🌵 Spencer having a breeding kink

this is making me feral

🌵smut headcacons: send me a character and a steamy scenario/situation and I’ll write how they would react/what they would do (short headcanons)

NSFW under the cut

Check out my 400 follower celebration

Spencer having a breeding kink

i can just imagine it

it starts with a night of babysitting

a friendly gesture for jj bc she wanted a night out with will

the majority of the night is just sweet

just two giggly boys and their godparents having a night together

and then spencer walks in to see lil baby michael perked on your hip

and his brain, for once, absolutely stills at the sight

then its just flooded with images of you

you, pregnant with his kid

you, round and MATERNAL

and they just go straight to his dick

so when the kids finally go to bed, and jj and will are just 20 minutes away

it takes everything in his body to not take you right then and there

doesn't stop him from keeping his hands on you

intentional touches against your legs, fingers grazing your thighs

you give him a knowing, but confused look bc you can only imagine where this is going

and when he asks "do you ever think about having kids"

you know then

you make a joke about him being a *horn dog* bc we all know he is

and tell him he has to wait until you get home

and WHEN YOU GET HOME

good lord

that man has you bent over the nearest surface immediately

you barely have time to think between his words and his actions

"fuck baby don't you want me to just fill you up"

"can't wait until you full of me, my kid"

"gonna let me cum inside aren't you baby, I can feel how deep i am"

... no words...

his hands are all over you as he's pumping into you, to your breasts, down across your belly

and he WILL give you fun facts about how they'll grow and swell

and when he does

oh when he does cum inside

he'll stay right there to make sure it doesnt go to waste, and whatever does?

he'll just use his fingers and push it in, right next to his cock

FERAL. INSANE. LOSING MY MIND. THIS WAS EVERYTHING ‼️

under my hands

pairing: adrian chase x reader (gn pronouns, afab sex descriptions (vaginal/breasts))

rating: e+

word count: 4,334

one-sentence synopsis: from the moment you let a little secret slip in the bar, you're driving adrian out of his mind.

author's note: i got a bunch of very feral requests that made me so unhinged i combined them into one and then went completely bonkers so ENJOY!!!!!!!

read on ao3!

“I do, too,” Chris argues at the top of his voice, slamming his glass down on the bar tabletop. “What, you don’t fucking believe me?”

“No,” John replies. “I genuinely, honestly don’t.” He seems almost delighted that Chris’ face is going red with anger, even as he’s getting agitated himself. “You seem to forget that I, like, watched you in the hospital. I studied you. For a while. It was my job to know you. I know you don’t have any.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Chris says. He shoves away from the table, pushing up to his feet with such force that every glass and pitcher on the table rattles, making everyone shout and reach out with steadying hands.

“What are you doing?” Emilia asks, suspicion heavy on every word she speaks.

“I’m showing you my fucking tattoo,” Chris says, and starts unbuckling his belt.

“Whoa!” John shouts, as Leota calls, “Hell no, Chris!” across the table.

“What?” Chris demands. “You don’t fucking believe me, then I’ll show you—”

“You can’t pull your goddamn pants down in here right now,” Emilia hisses at him, like he somehow needs to be told that.

“Wait, dude, hold up,” Adrian says. “I think I have a pic on my phone.”

“Why?” you ask, and Adrian, already scrolling through his phone gallery, glances over at you.

“Because I took a picture,” he replies, returning his attention to his phone.

“You know,” Emilia adds, “I actually have a tattoo.”

“What?” John scoffs. “You do not.”

“You do?” Chris asks. If Emilia was trying to distract him, it’s working, because he’s reaching back between his legs to haul his chair in again, retaking his seat, leaning halfway across the table towards her. “Where?”

“Somewhere I am not going to show you right now,” Emilia replies.

There’s a beat.

“But maybe later?” Chris asks, and Emilia gives him a look that could have killed him if she had been slightly better trained.

“I have a tattoo,” you add.

Adrian’s head snaps up. “What?”

You thought that might get his attention back on you. His eyes burn through yours before they start skimming over your face, then downwards, coasting over your collarbones. He goes further before snapping back up to meet your eyes again.

“Where?” he demands, before insisting, “No, you don’t,” then asking, “Where?” again.

“Jesus, put your eyes back in your fucking head,” John admonishes him.

“You didn’t see it?” you ask him. It’s only a small tattoo, a tiny design you let your friend do on your hip. You’re not surprised he didn’t notice it, since you’ve only been together a handful of times and your hip is usually either covered by something— his mouth, or his hand, or his leg, or his own hip— in those times.

“No,” Adrian exclaims. “Where is—”

“God, please, not here,” Leota insists.

“Tell me,” Adrian insists immediately. “Tell me. You have to tell me. Where is it? I’ll—”

“We should probably start heading out soon,” John suggests, keeping the coolest head as designated driver and still managing to look halfway certain Adrian’s about to get them kicked out. He jumps to collect cash from everyone for their shared tab.

The entire time, Adrian’s eyes and heated gaze are fixed on you. Only briefly will they flit away before returning back. You’re finding yourself glad John’s the designated driver, because you’re sure Adrian would crash the car— or make you crash the car— if one of you were the ones driving back to the motel.

It’s only when you’re all actually back out at the cars you rented for this mission that you realize you can only ride in one together if there’s only one designated driver.

“Fuck,” John says, staring at the car. He sighs, then steps around the car to examine it from another angle. He sighs again. “Okay, well. Anyone willing to walk?”

“No,” Emilia immediately stops anyone from volunteering. “We can fit. We’ll just— We’ll share.”

“Sorry, we’ll share?” Chris asks.

Adrian turns to you. You can see the intention in his eyes in the moment before he speaks, leaping on the suggestion with, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll just— Harcourt, you sit with Chris, and— (Y/N) can sit with me.”

“Gross,” John comments. “No way.”

“I can sit with Chris instead, I guess,” you say. Adrian’s eyes snap to yours, blazing with a sudden snap of surprised anger.

“No,” Emilia responds first, too quickly, before Adrian even can. “I’m okay sitting with Chris, that’s fine.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, smiling at Adrian. His eyes are fixed on yours before they skate down again, still seeking. If only he knew what else is under here.

“Only if you promise not to do anything fucked up,” Leota warns all four of you. “I mean it, sickos.”

“Cross my heart,” you reply.

“Isn’t this illegal?” John asks Adrian, who waves him off.

“That’s not applicable here,” he tells him, already climbing into the car.

There’s barely enough room for you all, even with your stacking arrangement. In order to fit everyone in the tiny vehicle, John and Leota take the front seat— little more than a bench in front of the steering wheel— while Chris and Adrian are side-by-side in the back. They’re so broad that the spread of their shoulders practically stretches window to window. Chris, especially, is so huge that Emilia probably has the most space to sit just for sitting on him.

You don’t have a lot of attention to pay to Chris and Emilia, though. They’re focused on themselves— and John on the road, and Leota on her phone— so you can dedicate yourself to being as covertly gross as you want to be.

From the moment you climbed into Adrian’s lap, he was completely full-body tense. One of his hands holds your hip, keeping you in place, unknowingly stroking his thumb in tiny sweeps just over the small marks of your tattoo. His other hand is held over your thigh, fingertips stretched to the inside.

Underneath you, in the little rattling rental car, you can feel the initially half-hard line of his cock. He’s pressing up into your entrance through your clothes and his. Every time the car shifts even a little bit, the two of you even slightly jostled, you can feel him getting harder and harder. The thick line of it only gets more solid beneath you, his grip tightening with each passing second.

You can feel yourself getting more and more soaked in response. You clench our thighs together in his lap, desperate for any kind of friction you can get, but it’s not enough.

When John hits a pothole, Adrian accidentally shoves up into you, a quick there-and-gone grind that has you biting back a soft noise in the back of your throat. Adrian’s hands tighten so hard you can feel the indents of the bruises they leave.

You twist slightly, your eyes flying up to meet Adrian’s. He looks up at you from the other side of his glasses, a burning green fire that surges into your mouth and down your spine without a word being spoken.

Beside you, Chris makes a slightly-too-loud grunt of a noise, and Leota calls from the front seat, “That better not be what I think it was.”

“We’re here, anyway,” John says. You’re wedged against Adrian’s front still, arms tucked together, the hard, hot line of his cock striking just against your center, sending a jolt through you as the car comes to a stop. The heat of the car feels impossibly heated. You almost wish the ride wasn’t so short.

When you climb off of Adrian’s lap, all you can feel is how wet you are, how on edge you’ve become. Your underwear is soaked, and you haven’t even shown it to Adrian yet.

“Alright, here’s the room assignments,” Emilia says, fishing a bag of motel keys and a little notebook out of her bag. “John and Leota, me and Chris, Adrian and (Y/N).”

“Just because we’re not fucking one of y’all,” Leota grumbles. “We should get our own rooms for putting up with this.”

“Seconded,” John agrees. “I don’t mind, though.”

“I don’t mind,” Leota says. “I’m just saying. Why should we have to share just because they’re using it as an excuse t—”

“Goodnight,” Adrian declares, taking the key for your motel room with him from Emilia’s hands. Your bag and his have already been removed from the car’s trunk and slung over his shoulder.

“Goodnight,” you echo. You offer them a wave before jogging after him. It’s obvious— to you, and probably to anyone who can see him— that he’s rock hard right now. You follow him without hesitating, practically sprinting up alongside him to catch up with his long strides.

“You need to get in this room right now,” Adrian tells you, as soon as you’re within earshot. “I am going to lay you out, and I am going to find that fucking tattoo, and I am going to fuck you into the mattress,” he informs you, fumbling with the key in the motel room door. “And then I am going to—”

“I actually had a thought first,” you suggest.

Adrian all but breaks the door to the motel room in. He flings his bag aside, sets yours on top of it before he’s whirling on you to pick you up and haul you over his shoulder. Kicking the door shut behind himself, he locks it twice, the knob and the deadbolt.

“Put me down,” you insist, so he takes you to the foot of the only bed in the room and throws you down on it. You laugh as he tears his jacket backwards off his arms, already starting to climb up over you. “No, wait—”

“I waited long enough, I think,” Adrian argues. He takes you by the hips and drags you down to meet him, ducking down to press his smile to the hinge of your jaw. “Don’t you think I’ve been so good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Don’t you think that’s why you should get a reward?”

Adrian lifts his head immediately, eager, excited. “What? Did you actually get me something or are you just teasing me? Like, obviously you’re a present in and of yourself, but—”

“Get up,” you tell him, and Adrian scrambles backward, up and off the bed.

You stand, hooking your fingers in the collar of his shirt so you can spin him, swapping your places. With your hand flat against the center of his strong chest, you push him to sit down at the end of the bed.

“Here or in the chair?” you ask him.

His excitement impossibly seems to double, triple, as he reaches up to skim his hands up your thighs. You push him away, stepping back and out of his reach.

“Decide,” you tell him, and start unbuttoning your shirt at the highest button, up by your throat. “Bed or chair?”

Adrian turns to look at the armchair by the curtains covering the windows at the front of the motel room. He’s clearly torn, but the novelty of the chair seems to win out for him, because he points towards it and answers, “Can we—”

“Yup,” you tell him, and he’s already scrambling. He nearly vaults over the length of the bed to get to the armchair, dragging it out and setting himself in it. When he turns back to you, he’s all eager anticipation and aroused confusion, waiting for your next move, trusting that you have a plan for him.

You do very much have a plan for him. You slip the next button loose on your shirt, threading them down one at a time. You have an undershirt under this top layer, so you’re not too concerned about revealing skin, not just yet.

“Are you going to show me your tattoo?” he blurts out, hands gripping the meat of his thighs as he watches you, struggling not to just reach out and touch. “Please, please, please, show me? I’ll do anything, anything you say, I’ll— I’ll fuck you,” he tells you, pleading, “I’ll fucking— I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t fucking believe it, just— Just show me, just— I have to know, I have to—”

“Shh,” you quiet him, reaching out to set your fingertips over his lips. He’s silenced, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “I’ll show you if you don’t touch until I say. Okay?”

“Yes,” he agrees. There’s no moment of hesitation. His nails dig into his jeans, tight in his hold of his own thighs. His knuckles are going white, he wants to hold you so badly.

You smile as you reach the last button on your shirt and slip it back off your arms and onto the ground. Adrian’s eyes are already coasting down your body, searching every newly exposed bit of skin for a mark, though there isn’t much yet to see. You reach next to untuck your undershirt, taking the edge of the fabric in your hands so you can ease it up and over your head in one long, sinuous roll. Your muscles all work together to reveal you from the waist up.

“Oh— Motherfuck,” Adrian curses automatically. “N— No, you fucking did— not, where did you get that?”

“I just came across it,” you tell him, reaching for the button on your jeans, pushing them apart.

“Can I?” Adrian asks, grinning, and you laugh.

“Maybe.” You ease the zipper down, then spread the fabric so he can get a glimpse at your underwear before you lean to push your pants down in a curl that has Adrian leaning forward, hands sliding forward to hold tighter the joints of his knees. “When I saw it, I just thought, you know— That looks so familiar.”

You kick your boots off, then remove your jeans, letting them join the rest of your clothes. When you lift yourself back up, shoulders back and spine straightening, you can feel the heat working over your expanses of exposed skin just the way Adrian’s eyes are.

“And then I thought,” you tell him, stepping closer. “‘You know who would enjoy this?’ You lean in a bit to whisper, grinning, “‘Adrian.’”

“You were right,” he insists.

“I figured,” you reply.

His grip slides up his thighs and back down again. His cock is impossibly obvious in his jeans, a hard, thick line you can see from here. He’s studying the lingerie set you’ve been wearing under your clothes all day in preparation for this moment. The set is mostly black, sheer enough that nothing beneath is concealed, but both the top and the bottom of it each have a thick teal v stripe cutting in with a thinner silver stripe matching just above, following the sharp lines in wrapping curves around your body. It’s a near identical match for his Vigilante armor, practically painted onto your skin.

The v cuts across your chest on both sides, streaking across your nipples. They’re visible through the sheer material still, and the budded peaks of them grow obvious as you become more flushed under Adrian’s unrelenting stare. The v on the panties cut down in stripes across your hips, laced in a scoop down your waist. It looks like the v is pointing downwards, as if Adrian needs more direction than he already has.

“Fuuuck,” Adrian draws out in a long curse before he whines. “Please, I— Fuck, you look so hot, motherfucker, nobody’s going to ever fucking believe me—”

You laugh, and Adrian’s words cut off, flying up to your mouth, then your eyes again. He tracks your every movement as you draw closer, taking a step nearer, then another, then another. You pause before him, considering, just barely in touching distance but not yet touching.

It looks like he’s actually sweating. You lean in nearer, letting your hands come to grip the arms of the armchair, holding you up without touching his body. Adrian’s nearly shaking, trying to keep himself still. It’s an impossible feat for him on a good day. You haven’t told him yet, but he’s already held out longer than you expected him to, which means he does get his handsome reward.

He is my handsome reward, you think to yourself, a thought so absurd and sappy you resolve to tell him— but later, when he can appreciate it properly.

“Do you like it?” you ask him.

“Do I— Sorry, do I fucking like it?” Adrian demands. “I want to— Can I—” He groans, insists, “I have to fuck you, please, plese, please—”

“Hold on,” you half-laugh. It’s impossible to be fully humored when you’re clenching around nothing, wanting friction on your clit, wanting him to fill your cunt, aching for him. You take the last step closer to him, reaching to brace yourself with a hand on his strong shoulder.

His face is burning red as you climb up onto his lap again. You have a much better angle this way than you did in the car, settling your knees on either side of his thighs, wedged into the armchair with him.

You let your other hand come up to thread through the hair at the back of his head, guiding him into tilting backwards to look up at you. He looks like he’s about to fall apart, his hands trembling where he’s gripping the arms of the chair, now. His heart is racing so quickly that his pulse is visible rabbiting in his throat, an obvious pound-pound-pound you can see throb.

You drag your hand down to cup his jaw, tilting him up into a soft kiss. You just barely press your lips to his as you lower down onto his lap again. He’s so hard now that, even through his jeans, you can get friction on him through your panties.

The fabric is soaked, and drags against Adrian’s denim over his cock to make him cry out your name, teeth biting into your lower lip.

“I’m trying to do something here,” you tell him against his mouth, half-mumbled before you draw back again. “I watched YouTube tutorials on lap dances, let me do this.”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t think I’m going to make it that long,” Adrian tells you in what sounds like mostly a genuine apology. “Please, can I touch you?”

“Soon,” you promise. You lift up off of his lap, missing the touch as soon as it’s gone, but you’re dropping down again only a moment later. You grind down on his cock in rolls, gripping his thick hair in one hand, his strong shoulder under the other.

“Oh, my God,” bursts out of Adrian’s mouth. “Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my— Oh, my fucking God—”

He comes forward, seeking the closest piece of skin he can reach. The flat of his tongue drags up the curve of one breast, moving to mouth at your nipple through the sheer fabric of the black-silver-teal bra. His teeth scrape up over the hard bud of it, and a shock shoots through you.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian apologizes in a rush, his words hot and wet against your skin through your lingerie. “I’m sorry, I forgot you said not to touch, I had to touch, I’m so fucking sorry—”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, smiling. You reach between your bodies to push open the button on his jeans to open them yourself. “You can touch now.”

His hands fly upwards, grasping your waist and tugging you inwards in a sharp jerk. Your breath whooses, tightening your hold in his hair. “Where the—”

His mouth glides up your throat, his hand following, He’s cupping your breast in his hand, thumb brushing over your nipple. Your back arches, and you grind down over him, desperately seeking friction.

“Where the fuck is your tattoo?” Adrian demands, pulling back enough to start searching over your skin again, trying to find the mark.

You don’t answer with words, but you do guide his hand to your hip, and he gets the hint easily. Before you know it, he’s grabbing you up by the hips, hoisting you to throw you down on the bed all over again. He yanks off his clothes so hastily his shirt half-rips, but he doesn’t even seem to notice, dropping them in scattered piles across the floor.

It must be such a relief for him to get his cock out; you watch him finally slip the last of his clothes off to leave him bare, taking himself in hand, and he moans out loud in the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” Adrian bites out. He jumps back up onto the bed over you, shoving you up the mattress, diving into your throat to suck a rough mark there beneath the cut of your jaw. He rolls his hips into yours, then glides down, searching. He’s kept his glasses on, focused as he examines every inch of your skin.

He follows his eyes with his lips, tongue following, teeth biting, mouth sucking. He’s practically fucking your leg by the time he reaches your hip, tugging the fabric down, and cursing, “There you are, motherfucker—”

You huff a breathless laugh as Adrian bites your inked skin, laving his tongue over the mark to soothe you when your back arches, a cry ripping up out of your chest. He rises up on his knees, eyes stroking up over you as he frantically strips his own cock at the sight of you.

“Holy fucking shit, I want to— I want to take fucking— I want to take, like, fucking boudoir photos of you and frame them and put them up all over my fucking house but if anyone else ever saw them I’d have to fucking kill them so maybe I shouldn’t—” Adrian’s babbling, and he only stops when he drops down to take your nipple in his mouth again over the fabric. He makes a half-whine, half-moan that shoots straight down to your cunt.

Adrian’s free hand wriggles down between your thighs to tear the fabric of your lingerie aside. He doesn’t bother taking off the panties, just getting them out of the way so he can drag his fingers up through your slit. There’s wetness everywhere, slicking his path; he dives deeper, finding your entrance, pushing in just a bit.

He takes your wetness to his cock, uses it to ease his glide. Within seconds, he’s dragging his mouth up to the hinge of your jaw, biting in as he pushes into you in a hot slide, his hips meeting yours.

“I think I’m going out of my fucking mind for you,” Adrian mumbles into your skin. “Oh, shit, I think I’m losing it, I fucking— I think I love you—”

“Adrian—” you say, your heart jolting as your cunt tightens, feeling his cock pulsing inside you. You’re impossibly filled, pushing up to roll into the friction of him, grinding up frantically to get the last shocks you need to push you over the edge.

Adrian drags you in closer, fucking you up in his lap before he shoves you back down onto the bed. He’s already losing his rhythm, the teasing you drew out for so long— from the night at the bar, to the short ride here in his lap, to everything you’ve done since you got into the motel room— finally coming to a head. He can’t stop saying your name, begging you, face flushed, glasses knocked askew as he drags you into another kiss.

He’s gasping, then, and his lunatic pumps into you and the crazed way he’s grinding against you has you knocking over the edge. You collapse into a melted pile in the bed, his arms the only thing holding you together as his cock splits you apart.

You tell him, “I love— I love you, too,” because it’s all you can feel, your chest and heart and cunt full of the emotions. You’re coursing with it, and he slides his hand up to guide you into a biting new kiss.

“Fuck,” he says, from his throat into yours, more a vibration than a word or even a sound. In the next instant, he’s over his own edge, holding you tightly in place on his cock as he fucks you through his orgasm. You’re overstimulated in the best way, completely dissolved, chest heaving, aftershocks rattling through your mind and body like white lightning that takes you over in rattling waves.

You reach out for him, bringing his throat to your mouth. A gust of a sigh breezes out of your chest when you brush your lips over his throat, then drag your tongue up the strong cut of muscle to his jaw, working lazily and sloppily at his skin.

He huffs a shaky laugh, murmurs, “I can be ready to cum again in, like, ten minutes at the most if you keep that up.”

“That’s not incentive for me to stop,” you mumble, working aimlessly against his skin.

He turns to face you, letting his face drag along yours until he can pull you into a long, open-mouthed, loose-jawed kiss, licking behind your teeth. You let out a shaky moan, and he smiles into the kiss before separating you. He pecks the corner of your mouth, then the tip of your nose.

“Maybe I don’t want you to stop,” he tells you. His eyes skim down again, a blaze of heat down your body before his calloused fingers trail up to grip your hip again. “You are— Oh, fuck— I love you—”

You smile, drawing him into a long kiss that has him grinding up into you again already starting to fill thick and hard again before he’s even pulled out of you.

Against his lips, you ask him, “Do you mean it?”

“Do you?” he replies quickly, and you nod, grinning. He flushes up to his ears, says, “Hell yeah,” and dives in, threading his fingers through your hair to drag you in again.

-

requests used:

"Hiii hope you're great. DRINK WATER💕💕 anywayy I was hoping you can write a one shot of the gang in a bar after a mission and they started talking about tattoos and reader has a hidden tattoo. Adrian wants to find it so badly. He begs and talks so dirty he'd do anything to see it 😭🥴 thank youu" (anonymous)

"Adrian chase/vigilante x reader (has a vagina) >explicit Ok but what if you all have to take a smaller vehicle and he offers to have you sit on his lap because it's either him or someone else and he cant let you sit on anyone else's lap and you end up sharing a room (optional: oblivious mutual pining + oblivious cuddling + awkward mornings) and some like rough Adrian. Please 0nly do what you feel comfortable with" (@delirious0pandemonium)

"Help! I’ve fallen into an Adrian Chase shaped hole and I can’t get up (nor do I want to). Just wanted to say I have been LOVING your fics and present to you an idea - showing up to Adriana place with a coat on, then opening it up to reveal a lingerie set in his colours/matching his armor (like black bra with the teal v stripes) and him going feral. That’s it, that’s the ask." (anonymous)

"i would take pictures of you like this so bad but if they got leaked and you were exposed without your consent i would rip out my own eyes out in retaliation" (@nobodys-baby-now)

"Could I have an Adrian x reader, where he comes home and the reader surprises him with a lap dance? I would love to see how you write his reaction. :)" (anonymous)

-

adrian chase taglist:

@violetrainbow412-blog @bigassbisaster @amysuemc @sunflowerfive @papitas-con-sal @saturnngal @neptuneswritingwork @jewishdelis @myguiltypleasures21 @pinkygunslingy @violinchick @r3tr0sp3ct @chaseadrian @breathing-in-waves @rishlurh @x-milf-hunter-x @goblynnrockz @theowritesstuff @jaysfav @themartiansdaughter @dallasvakarian @missscarlettangel @pieriinova @samantha24015 @hillaryroadheadcllinton @ohmybubbletea @buckys-estrella @witchywcmans @ladyrebel25 @eviejune @vigilantesluvr @bb-skyrunner @qjuiq-odakyu

LANI PLS THIS WAS SO GOOD, IM AN ABSOLUTE PUDDLE RN

A Seasoned Fighter

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Older!Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Summary: Just because the First Order dismantled, doesn’t mean the Resistance has stopped fighting for the freedom of the galaxy. You’re newly recruited and stationed at a base that’s run by the legend himself, General Poe Dameron. Based on this artwork + my shitty edits.

Warning: age gap, Poe's kinda a dick, smut - rough sex, p in v, choking, oral (m receiving), this Poe is suuuuuuper ooc.

A/N: I'M WRITING FOR POE AGAIN! YAY! Also, I might write more if people want. because i do have more ideas for this version of Poe...

Tagging: @darthdameron @abelslittlebunny

You've been with the Resistance for a short time. A little under five years. Despite the end of the First Order, that didn't mean that there weren't still people who wanted to take over the galaxy. The Resistance still remained in tact taking care of those who tried to take the First Order's place, as well as keeping the overall galaxy safe.

In the time you've been with the Resistance, you heard about the legends such as Rey Skywalker, General Finn, and General Poe Dameron. Rey and Finn were off on the other side of the galaxy, training new and upcoming Jedis. General Poe Dameron? Well, he stuck with the Resistance.

You grew up hearing stories about him. He had saved your parents, Resistance fighters as well, and if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be here. You thought that when you'd meet him, he'd be just as witty and charming like your parents described.

Unfortunately, he was the opposite.

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