Leaky, Thick Cock Virgins Who Wanna Make You Cum Soooo Bad But They Just Don't Know How And And And You're

leaky, thick cock virgins who wanna make you cum soooo bad but they just don't know how and and and you're just soooo pretty to them that they end up losing their mind, so excited to finally fuck you, so they hammer into you like a rabbit- no technique, no finesse, no skill whatsoever, but their dick is just so big that it hits everything it needs to anyways and has you seeing stars

Slip of the tongue

An undercover op had you in a beautiful, potentially shorter than necessary black dress. That had Gibbs slightly flustered. Stepping up to your desk in his dress uniform he greeted you with a rare smile, waiting whilst you were holstering your knife against your thigh.

“Aren’t you a sight this evening. You really ought to come with a warning” he complemented you effortlessly. And without missing a beat or any further thinking you responded.

“Actually, I only cum with permission.”

And as if it suddenly occurred to you what you had just told your boss your eyes shot open wide and your back straightened up immediately from your crouched position your mouth still hanging wide open as your brain scrambled for an appropriate response.

Gibbs just stood still and smirked, his tongue swept across his lower lip, briefly enjoying your flustered state before speaking.

“Good girl” he winked before sauntering towards the elevator. Leaving you, a blinking speechless mess in the middle of the bullpen.

The Other Side of Paradise

originally written by dwaynepride.tumblr.com

“So, how small is your room?”

Gibbs can’t help but smirk at your naive question. For a moment, his eyes break away from the case files to look up and around his little metal box. He was used to the cramped space, of course - Navy vessels never really afforded much space. Especially for federal agents.

His attention falls back down to the papers, tucking his cell phone closer to his ear. “You know the guest bathroom I got back home?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

“Little smaller than that.”

You laugh out loud, and despite the shitty reception and hundreds of miles between you, the sound of it makes Gibbs smile.

He should be asleep. He knows that. But there’s work to be done, and also, he did promise to call you every chance he got. That was the deal when Gibbs told you he’d be shipping out on a ship for a week or more. But it’s already been three days, and Gibbs is surprised at how much he misses you already.

The laughter dies down and you sigh a little. Gibbs can already imagine you tucked up in bed - probably wearing one of his shirts, pulling his pillow closer, cradling the phone as if it would bring Gibbs physically closer to you, somehow.

It brings a pang of loneliness to his chest, but Gibbs pushes it aside. “So, how was your day? Anything eventful?” He asks lightly. Some of his attention is still on the case files, however. Believing work would help with the fact that he’s not home with you, right now.

You simply let out a small exhale, and he imagines you’re rolling your eyes. “Not really. Just went to the store. Did the dishes. Cleaned the bathroom,” you tell him. There’s a slight pause, and the next time you speak, it’s louder and harsher. “By the way, Jethro - I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

He blinks once, eyes flickering to the side as he shifts in his chair. “What’d I do now?”

“How many times have I asked you to clean up after you shave?” His shoulders go slack in relief; it’s nothing too serious. “I swear, it’s like you don’t even hear me when I tell you something. Like, how hard is it to wipe down the counter after you’re done?”

For once, Gibbs is thankful to be a couple hundred miles away. Because you can’t see him when he smirks. “Not hard,” he replies. “I’ll make it up to you when I get home, ‘kay?”

“I doubt that,” you respond immediately. You don’t sound too angry, thankfully. Still, it’s something Gibbs has got to prove.

“I will. I’ve always made it up to you, haven’t I?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, you do,” Gibbs drawls, voice low and smooth. “Missed dates, late nights - you’ve always forgiven me, one way or another.”

Carefully, Gibbs twists his head around to eye the metal door of his tiny room, just to make sure it’s still closed before turning back. You’re silent, likely thinking on his words and even Gibbs himself wonders why he’s poking this particular bear. He knows he’s on a Navy ship and it’s possible McGee might come knocking on his door without warning, but fuck, he misses you.

He hears you breathe softly - so quiet, he thinks he imagined it. “Alright,” you finally say in a wispy voice. “What are you gonna do, then? To make up for trashing the bathroom?”

“What do you want me to do, honey?”

“Nah, that’s not how this works.” His lips quirk up in a smile - you’re too smart for him. “You tell me, since you’re bragging.”

Gibbs takes a moment to think. Reconsiders going down this road, but now, his heart is pumping a little faster and his stomach is twisted up with anticipation. “Take you out to dinner. Share a bottle of wine. Maybe dance, if you wanted to,” he says.

“I like to dance,” you tell him, voice so sweet, it’s like you’re here with him.

“You’d look real pretty, like you always do. I’d have to scare people off because they’d want to come and talk to you.”

You let out another laugh - softer, this time. Squeezes his heart with affection even as Gibbs shifts in his chair because his pants are suddenly getting a bit tight. “Probably,” you reply. “What about when we get home?”

“When we get home, I’ll take you upstairs. Get’cha into something more comfortable.”

“No drinking bourbon?”

“Nah,” he replies easily. “I don’t want you too drunk. I’d want you to remember everything I did the next morning.”

Gibbs hadn’t even expected those words to come out so easy. Usually, playful dirty talk was not his strong suit. His ex-wives had sometimes tried to get him to talk dirty to them and it always ended with him feeling awkward and them feeling disappointed. But right now, it was almost natural.

He finds himself holding his breath, awaiting your response, hoping he hadn’t somehow crossed a line. And Gibbs hears you breathe for a moment before your soft voice hits his ear again. “You must be doing something pretty good if you’d want me to remember it.”

Your voice is small and hitched. Distracted, almost. Jethro’s focus is no longer on the case files - instead, he leans back in his chair, legs spread, hand resting on his thigh. “Oh, I am,” Gibbs murmurs. “Sweetheart, lemme ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“What’re you doing right now.”

There’s a small pause. “Talking to you.”

“Other than that,” Gibbs replies. “I know you.”

And just as soon as his hushed sentence ends, you gasp a little. It’s quiet and stifled, like you’re trying to hide it from him. But Gibbs has got good hearing, and the sound twists his stomach up a little tighter. Makes his cock start to strain against his jeans a little harder. “I’m laying in bed, wearing your shirt, cuddling your pillow,” yeah, Gibbs was right. But there’s something else he’s looking for… “Wishing you were touching me. You always touch me better than I can touch myself.”

There it is. The sudden mental image that hits Jethro makes his head tilt back, eyes shut, imagining you in bed, hand under the covers, thinking you’ll get away with touching yourself and making yourself cum without him finding out.

“Dammit…” Jethro breathes out. His head moves to check the door again, finding it still closed. Maybe he was silently hoping there’d be a knock. Something to interrupt and give Jethro a chance to keep himself from doing something stupid.

But you’re still on the phone. Even the faint static from a weak signal isn’t enough to mask the edge in your voice. “I miss you, Jethro,” you whine lightly. Gasping again, and he guesses you hit a good spot.

You miss him. Yeah, he misses you, too. Misses you more than anything.

“I wish you were here,” you continue. “If you were, you’d probably just go slow. Make me beg for it. I know you like it when I ask nicely…”

“I do,” Jethro cuts in. “And I would.”

You let out a slow hum, like you’re stretching in bed. Getting comfy, and Gibbs has never been so eager to get home in his life. This phone sex thing…it’s never been something he was remotely interested in. Especially not when the real thing is so much better. But you sound good. Those pretty little noises that’s making him harder by the second.

And Jethro doesn’t even notice you talk until your soft voice comes through. “What?” He asks dumbly.

You huff in amusement. “Do it, then.”

“Do what?”

“Make me beg.”

He swallows hard. “Honey, I can’t. Not ‘till i get home…”

“Please, Jethro. Really wanna cum.” His eyes fall shut when you let out a slow moan. Deep and throaty and just the way he likes it because you always sound so fucking pretty. If Jethro tries hard enough, he can imagine himself in the bedroom with you. His hands replacing your own between your legs, and you’d be asking him for more instead of just begging for the bare minimum.

He lets out a slow exhale. Pulls the phone closer to his cheek, like that’ll help keep this whole ordeal more of a secret, somehow. “Just keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Do it how you know I would,” Jethro says, voice low.

“How would you do it?”

“Any damn way you want,” he answers immediately. Gibbs hears your breathing, quick and tight, right in his ear. Without even thinking, his own hand comes over his zipper. Jethro was damn tempted to open up his pants and chase his orgasm alongside you. But even now, he knows that’s not a good idea. It’ll be way too messy and wouldn’t be worth the trouble if someone were to come knocking.

You, however…Jethro has now made it his mission to hear you cum.

“I’d make you cum right on my fingers because I love when you moan right into my mouth. I can watch your face - that’s my favorite part, sweetheart. You always look so pretty, like that. And then you get this little look in your eye when I get my fingers in deeper…”

Jethro shocks even himself, saying all that. Though, is it still considered dirty talk if he’s simply telling the truth?

He hears breathless little mews of his name. A sharp breath, and Gibbs can guess what you’re doing. “Don’t hold back,” he says; voice hard, like an order. “Don’t be shy. Lemme hear you.”

Instantly, you whimper. High-pitched and keening and it sends goosebumps down his back. Jethro imagines that your legs are spread out wide, muscles tight, head tilted back and if he were there, he’d be sucking hickeys into your skin while pumping his fingers just as hard as he could.

“Keep goin’, angel. Get a little deeper for me.”

“Jethro, please…”

“Relax. Rub your clit - tight little circles. That always gets you all wound up for me. Every single time.” Jethro’s right, of course - he’s remembering each and every time you’ve cried out and clung to him because of those little circles he’d do.

You’re breathing so heavy into his ear. He knows from experience that you’re right on the edge. And fuck, Jethro feels like he might bust in his pants from the noises alone, much less the mental image of you cumming on your own fingers. And he’s wrapping his head around more things to tell you before you’re speaking up, yourself.

“Can’t wait until you’re back home.” Your voice is a tight plea - keening and desperate. His cock twitches at the sound of it, begging to be released but Gibbs won’t allow it. “Can’t wait for you fuck me.”

“I would. As many times as you want. Neighbors’ll hate me, but I don’t care.”

You huff once - from amusement or arousal, he can’t discern. But the huff is followed by a moan and Jethro wants, more than anything, not to be on a fucking Navy vessel, right now. His skin is hot and tingling and he’s not even the one about to cum. 

He sighs into the phone, his hand adjusting his pants but Jethro’s entire focus is on you. Your noises. Your voice… “Jethro, ‘m close.”

“Fuck, I know, angel.” It’s truly unfair that Gibbs is in such a situation where he can’t be there with you. To make you cum himself because it’s his job and he’s fucking loves it. But it’s extra bitter in the fact that he can’t pull his cock out and cum alongside you. Well, he could. But if he got caught, that would be a hell of a conversation with Vance.

Your breathing gets faster. Heavier. Jethro knows that sound intimately. “You gonna cum? Right on your fingers? Is that how fuckin’ desperate you are, honey?”

“Yeah.” The word comes out as a broken moan. Jethro can guess that you aren’t too focused on speaking, right now. 

He brings the phone even closer, panting lightly in his own arousal. “Well, c’mon. Let me hear you - loud and clear. Make me proud, angel.” Jethro closes his eyes, hoping his imagination is good enough for him to picture your orgasm in his mind. “I bet you look fucking beautiful, right now. Legs wide open, pussy all wet and-”

“Fuck- fuck, Jethro!”

The static on the line is ultimately his downfall. Your cries are so loud, so broken, it’s difficult to hear them to their fullest extent. Gibbs groans a bit, but it seems his imagination does well enough. His cock is throbbing in his pants, but he’s too focused on hearing you mewl out his name to really feel it.

You’re panting hard. He hears it right in his ear. Jethro waits a few moments, simply allowing himself the opportunity to listen without obligation. Usually, he’d feel compelled to start cleaning you up or maybe get you some water. At least there’s one positive to phone sex - he can just sit back and listen.

“…Honey?”

“Jethro….”

“You alright?”

After a couple more breaths, you let out a small, contented moan. Jethro can’t help but smirk. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“That’s good,” he replies. And…now what? Phone sex itself is uncharted territory. But phone pillowtalk? Jethro rolls his eyes at himself - this shouldn’t be so damn hard. Not with you. Especially not after what you just did for him. He should already know what to do.

You yawn lightly. And it reminds him that it’s almost midnight for you. 

“Maybe you outta head to sleep.”

“No. Wanna talk to you.”

That pang in his chest comes back. But instead of loneliness, it’s more like affection - it’s softer, sweeter, and doesn’t hurt as much. “I’ll call you again tomorrow. I promise,” Jethro tells you softly. “Right now, you need sleep.”

You pause for a moment, and he thinks you might argue. But after another soft yawn, you sigh into the phone. “Alright,” you reply. And he nods once. “I love you.”

He swallows, feeling odd saying this over the phone after something so dirty. “I love you, too.” But, in a way, it’s natural. Maybe because Jethro can so easily imagine you smiling when he says it. “Goodnight.”

You hang up first. Jethro tosses his phone on his desk, and suddenly, the silence of his tiny metal room starts to creep in. Suddenly, he misses your voice. Your breathing. Your noises. Even as his cock slowly stops its incessant throbbing, the silence isn’t chased away. Not even as Jethro tries to lose himself in the paperwork again. 

But he forces himself to. Because the sooner this case is over, the sooner he can get home to you.

— ꒰‧⁺ incoming commission ☁️ *ೃ༄

•ଓ.° a fic commission for: anonymous. word count: 2.7k. interested in commissioning me? find more information here.

•ଓ.° content warnings: nsft content (mdni), handjobs, group sex

•ଓ.° ft. oliver nunez, skylar price, & declan o'leary x male reader

Considering they lived in a popular college town, no one on the soccer team or their friends were strangers to a gimmick bar or two– least of all Oliver, Skylar, and Declan. You could go to a different one every night for weeks and never hit a repeat. As far north in the country as you all were, one of the most popular types of gimmick bar was some sort of ‘western’ or ‘cowboy’ theme. Most of the time, the bars weren’t very big and didn’t pull crazy amounts of money, and so the ‘theme’ went as far as playing country music and having some random paraphernalia hanging on the walls; rope, hats, spurs, the like.

In the case of this bar, though, the gimmicks were a bit more exciting.

Specifically, it housed a mechanical bull in the center of the bar. An area around it was fenced off, the floor inside the makeshift corral replaced with plastic mats to help avoid serious injury in the event that someone falls a little too hard. Tables were set up all around the outside, and it seemed that whoever was controlling the movements of the bull was by the bar. 

The four of you had chosen the bar to have a mini celebration to celebrate your passing grade on a paper you had been stressing over all semester, without knowing about the attraction– or about your experience with the real life thing. 

Already you had spent the last thirty minutes at least as a captive audience, watching patrons of all sorts try their hand. Posters all over the corral declared that they wouldn’t go easy on anyone– ‘try only at your own risk.’ Apparently, they weren’t lying. The thing was erratic. Person after person had been sent flying off onto the mats, bucked off sometimes after only a few seconds. There had been one person to last longer than 30 seconds all night, and you were pretty sure they were an employee, and were just showing off. 

It was good fun, laughing at their physical mishaps, until there came a lull in people lining up to try their luck. 

“Should we try it?” Oliver asked as you took a swig from your drink, stepping away from your table to read the little flier pinned to one of the wooden columns of the corral fence.

“Don’t look at me,” Declan replied, a bit gruffly. He eyed the attraction warily as the last drunk person to attempt it stumbled his way off the mats, opening the wooden gate and returning defeated to her table of friends. 

“Not really my scene, honestly. I prefer to watch,” Skylar shrugs, content to have his arm around your shoulders, hanging off you casually. For him, it was a very subtle way of staking their claim over you; if it wasn’t him, one of the other two would surely be in his place instead. (In fact, the entire way to the bar, they had organically switched on and off with who was closest to you; at one point, Declan had his hand in your back pocket while you walked. At another point, Oliver had his hand clasped firmly around yours). 

“It doesn’t look that hard,” you say, leaning forward against the table that held your drinks. 

“Hey, it says if you last more than thirty seconds, you get a free round of drinks for your party!” Oli says as he studies the sign outside of the center corral, sort of in a world of his own– as usual.

You smirk. “Only half a minute?” 

“We just watched someone get literally thrown off of it ten seconds after climbing up,” Skylar pointed out, studying your face with a slightly suspicious look, “what do you mean, ‘only’ one minute?” 

“Watch and learn, ya’ll. Hey, think about what drinks you want while I’m up there,” you reply as you shrug Skylar’s arm off your shoulders and head away from the group, sending a wink over your shoulder at the three of them.

You’re confident as you make your way to the bar to alert the staff you want to try your hand at the mechanical bull. It came to your attention, rather idly, that the circumstances of your life back home before you met the three boys had never really come up– aside from the occasional light-hearted joke about your accent popping up, of course (Oli in particular liked to repeat your colloquialisms and southern phrases back to you). You couldn’t recall a single time any of your skills learned from living on a ranch had come up– but far be it for you to pass up such a perfect chance to impress them. 

The three of them were practically enraptured even before you entered the corral and mounted the mechanical beast. Declan, clearly, was the most concerned, and it was obvious from the dark frown that overtook his features. He had also begun looking across the bar, already uncomfortable with the way everyone was looking at you like a spectacle. 

Skylar and Oliver were having a bit more fun with it. Oli, of course, was already shouting you good luck and encouragement from the table, always the excitable one. Skylar leaned back in his chair, throwing his arm over the back of it as he watched you climb up onto the bull, a confident, lazy grin on his face.

You held on as soon as you were up, situating yourself, confident in your abilities as the music picked up and the mechanisms inside the metal bull whirred to life– and it started bucking and spinning. 

You slid from the momentum, but held on strong. Your muscles strained, but your muscle memory activated, sliding back into something as familiar to you as riding a bike. Ten seconds passed, then twenty, then thirty; a cheery alarm sounded somewhere, but you were almost too focused to hear it, even as you hollered and whooped with adrenaline. 

At your table, your boys were watching slack-jawed. The way your hips shifted back and forth, the amount of control and balance it must have taken… it was entrancing. Not to mention extremely attractive– enough to get Declan shifting in his seat, suddenly a bit uncomfortable. And the fact that they had no idea you could do this was astonishing. The three of them shared more than one heated look, silently scheming.

Eventually, you slid a little too far off the side and couldn't recover, choosing to throw your other leg off the side and land on your feet instead of hold on to the bitter end and end up on the floor. The whole bar, captivated by the spectacle, cheered as you saluted theatrically, giddy and grinning as you made your way out of the corral.

You returned to your table confident and steady, a chorus of hollering and clapping accompanying you. You let out a heavy breath, reaching for your abandoned drink and taking another big swig. You ran your hand over your face, a bit warm, but otherwise completely fine.

“Told ya’ll I could do it,” you grinned– who would fault you for boasting a little bit?

“Holy shit, you sure did,” Oliver cheered, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Where the hell did that come from?”

You shrugged your shoulders, letting Oliver pull you back into one of the chairs. “Lived on a ranch most of my life,” you explained.

Declan made an intrigued ‘hmm’ noise, and you pulled your eyes away from Oli’s face to look at the other two boys as well– which was when you noticed the darkening gazes from both Skylar and Declan, rivaling the lovesick expression Oli seemed to have permanently when he looked at you. Skylar leaned forward, looking you up and down with hooded eyes.

“...any chance you have a cowboy hat?” Skylar asked, a smooth, electrifying smirk finding a home on his pretty face. 

You felt Oliver lean into your side, and suddenly his hand was on your leg, warm and solid. You looked between the three of them, sensing where this was going. Still, you decided to ask anyway, “...why?”

He grinned, a bit too devious, and you let out a slow breath as Oli moved his hand a bit further up your thigh.

"Got something else you can ride, sweetheart," Skylar answered.

Fuck. You were in for it.

The door to the apartment slammed behind you, but you were already halfway to the bedroom, caught up with Declan’s mouth on yours. 

In the car it had been Skylar, his mouth hot and minty, while Oliver slid his hands all over you. They couldn't wait to walk back, ordering a cab as soon as they got you out of the bar.

You followed Declan’s lead, across the apartment into one of their bedrooms– Oliver’s was the closest, so you ended up there. His hands fumbled momentarily with the button and zipper of your jeans, but he made quick work of it, shoving them down your hips before he tugged impatiently at the hem of your shirt.

You broke the kiss, and before you could even get the shirt pulled all the way over your head, Oliver was at your back, sliding his fingers past the clinging hem of your underwear, peeling it down. They always made quick work of getting you naked, but the sense of urgency tonight was ramped up. Skylar busied himself finding a bottle of lube across the room, fetching it out of Oli’s bedside table.

“Can’t wait to see you fucked open,” Oliver muttered against your skin, nipping at the sensitive part of your neck as you stepped out of your remaining clothes and making you shiver. In front of you, Declan stripped out of his shirt before getting to work on his jeans, and you watched through hazy vision as the muscles in his arms and chest rippled. “After that show you put on in the bar…”

He trailed off, but already, Oli’s hands had roamed, and he dragged his nails across the skin of your hips, inching tantalizingly close to your already aching cock, but never giving you quite what you wanted.

Declan reached out, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you into him again. You groaned as he kissed you, and followed him as he pulled you towards the bed. 

Oli and Skylar both followed as Declan pulled you onto the bed with him, nipping at your lower lip. 

“Want you to ride me,” he commanded gruffly, his voice low and gravelly. “We’ll get you nice and ready and then you’re gonna ride me until you can't fucking stand. Yeah?”

“Fuck, yes sir,” you agreed, the ‘sir’ coming out a little too naturally but sounding just right with your accent, his voice and his words shooting straight to your already hard dick. You let out a shaky breath and he pulled you over his lap until you were kneeling over where he sat. 

Oliver took up his spot next to you, and the bed dipped behind you as Skylar joined. 

“Come here,” Declan beckoned, making you lean forward, closer to his chest so he could lick his way into your mouth again. Your hands came up to rest on his shoulders as he kissed you.

The sound of the cap on the bottle of lube opening sent a shiver down your spine, and then Skylar’s hands were all over you. As he was trailing his fingers teasingly down you back, before he began working a cold, lube-slicked finger diligently inside you and making you jolt and groan, Oliver joined in by reaching between you and wrapping his hands around your cock. 

You cursed and moaned into Declan’s mouth, not expecting both sensations at once. Declan relished in the way you shivered against him, but pulled back and looked you in the eye.

“Want to see your face,” Declan muttered, his breath fanning across your face. “Want to see you get toyed with, baby.” 

“Fuck, Dec–” you groaned, fingers digging into his shoulders as Skylar and Oliver worked together to drive you insane. Oliver’s slick hand pumped up and down at a pace just slow and languid enough that it was on the verge of maddening, tearing your focus in half– your mind couldn't decide which sensation to focus on. Until Sky worked in a second finger, pumping in and out of you slowly, before he pushed in deeper and deeper. 

“Shit!” You gasped, eyes falling closed as you let your head fall forward.

“Feel good? You like his fingers inside you?” Declan asked, reaching up and gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him again. “Tell me, baby, come on.”

You nodded your head, hips involuntary pushing back against Skylar’s hand. “Fuck, it feels good,” you groaned. “Not enough, Dec, fuck,” you complain. 

“You need me inside you instead, hmm?” He asks, amused at how quickly you nod your head.

“Almost,” Skylar teased from behind you. “Be patient, sweetheart.” He pumped his fingers into you a few more times, scissoring them open in order to get you used to the stretch. 

Finally, he removed his fingers, leaving you panting as Declan impatiently maneuvered your hips until you were positioned over him. He let you take over, and you sunk down on his cock hungrily, groaning in satisfaction at the fullness he provided. It was a stretch, but a delicious one– one you relished in as you rolled your hips. Oliver momentarily paused his pumping, swiping his thumb across the head of your cock and making you cry out. By the time you got to the base, seated completely on him, the head of his cock brushed against your prostate, sending your heart racing.

“Go on,” Declan ordered as Oliver pulled his hand away, “ride me, baby.” 

He didn't have to tell you twice; not when it felt so good, and you only wanted more. Practically bouncing on his dick, you let your hands roam over his stomach and chest, all the planes and dips of his chiseled body. 

Skylar kept his hands steady on your hips, subtly letting you know that you wouldn't be going anywhere even if you wanted to. Not like you’d want too, after Declan started matching your rhythm, lifting his hips and thrusting up into you. 

Behind you, Skylar reached forward, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling your head back. 

You moaned into the air, already feeling fuzzy and unfocused as you basked in the pleasure. Declan kept his hands on your thighs, groaning underneath you, as Oliver took advantage of your new position and leaned forward to kiss you. 

He swallowed up your moans as you rolled your hips, and Skylar dragged his nails down your back.

When he pulled back, he kept his hand on your face, keeping you looking at him. “You have no idea how fucking hot you look,” he groaned, admiring your red face. “You take his dick so well,” he praised. “Ride it like you were born too.”

That sent a wave of heat through you, and your smooth rhythm faltered as you got closer to the edge. You couldn't help the gasping moan that came out of you as Declan shifted, planting his feet on the bed and using his leverage to really thrust up into you.

Oli let go of your face and you looked forward, meeting Declan’s heated gaze. 

“You gonna cum for us already?” He asked, hitting your prostate with nearly every thrust now, making you feel weak in the knees. “Come on baby, keep up– you’re supposed to be good at this, remember?”

“Can’t, Dec– fuck, fuck, feels to good,” you cry, planting your hands on his chest as he plowed into you from below. 

As soon as Oliver reached between you and Declan and wrapped his warm, slick fingers around your cock again, you knew you were done for. 

After only a few pumps, you shouted, squeezing your eyes shut in painful ecstasy as the coil snapped and you came, making a mess all over Declan’s chest and stomach. Oli didn't stop, the last few drops spilling over his knuckles, until Declan’s thrusts became erratic. Skylar’s hands returned to your hips, holding you there until Declan groaned, finishing inside you.

You breathed hard, legs like jelly. But Skylar’s hands trailed up your sides, and you felt him lean into your back– something heavy and hard poking into your lower back. He muttered into your ear, sending goosebumps across your body and a shiver down your spine.

“Hope you’re prepared for round two, cowboy.”

— ꒰‧⁺ incoming commission ☁️ *ೃ༄

•ଓ.° a full fic commission for: anonymous. word count: 2.6k. interested in commissioning me? find more information here.

•ଓ.° contents: bunny hybrid reader, nsft content (mdni), brief description of public harassment, fingering, handjob

•ଓ.° ft. oliver nunez, skylar price, and declan o'leary x male!bunny hybrid!reader

Halloween was no joke on a large college campus, especially for any of the students on campus deemed even marginally popular. It was the season of parties, parties, parties– at clubs, in Greek Life, at homes and apartments.

The boy’s apartment was no exception. Thanks to the size of their luxury apartment, it was easy to hold a party inside; people had plenty of room to dance and drink. Skylar was really in charge of the party; one of the reasons they had chosen this specific apartment was because of its potential to host a lot of people. Besides, even though all three of them were exceptionally popular across campus for a myriad of reasons, Skylar was the most conventionally popular. And, he just really liked throwing parties. He joked to you that hosting parties might have been his life’s calling, not to mention how intense he could get about planning. It always worked out in the end, though; he had a certain magic about it.

It was nearly 10 pm, only about thirty minutes before the party was slated to really start. They boys had been in costume for a little while now– Skylar the longest, but only because he was the one out of the three who went all out of his own volition. Skylar, fittingly, was dressed as Dionysus; Oliver was dressed as some sort of elven fairy, including glittery makeup and flowers in his hair, which he had to enlist Skylar’s help to pull off; and Declan, with half of his face painted like a skull, was the grim reaper.

None of them had seen your outfit yet; in the weeks leading up to the party they had been begging for a hint of what you would dress as, but you kept the secret completely locked down. You had to keep your costume with a friend, so they wouldn’t find it hidden in one of the closets or under the furniture. It was driving them all a little crazy– they didn’t know what to expect. It could have been something funny, something scary, something that matched one of their costumes… anything, really.

What they were really not expecting was the skimpy Lola Bunny costume, complete with the booty shorts, the crop top– and the ears and a tail, just above the waistband of the shorts.

When you left the bathroom after changing into your costume, all three boys stopped in their tracks to finally, finally get a good look at you– and they were completely blown away.

Halloween could be tricky for you. It was the one night a year that you could get away with not hiding your ears and tail, and just incorporating them into a costume of some kind. People were generally not too handsy with you… but, most people also weren't Oliver, Skylar, and Declan. You knew you would be in for a challenging night of dodging their attempts to inspect your outfit as soon as you saw the way they were all looking at you, like they wished they could call the party off entirely.

“I knew you’d look better than the rest of us!” Skylar teases, and the three of them come closer to you to get a good look at your costume.

“Damn,” Oliver whistles at you, eyes raking over your practically naked legs, stopping at the hem that rested on your upper thigh. Their combined gaze made you shiver.

“The accessories look so real,” Skylar applauded, “the ears even match your hair color. Where’d you get them?”

“Well–” you started, looking back at Oliver to make sure he wasn't going to reach for your tail.

Fortunately for you– and extremely, extremely unfortunately for the other three– it was at that moment that the buzzer to the apartment split through the conversation.

It gave you the chance to bound off under the guise of buzzing the guests up, successfully avoiding the topic for the time being. You weren’t naive enough to think they would let it go completely, but as you made it to the front door, you were glad to have bought yourself a bit of time to attend the party normally.

Everyone is having about as much fun as they possibly can. Oliver is having the time of his life, being the endlessly energetic, social fairy that he is, flitting around to talk to everyone and occasionally following up with you to remind you for the millionth time how cute you look in your costume. Every now and then he tries to reach for your ears, to pet them or compliment you on how real they look, but you manage to duck your head out of his reach every time, telling him you don’t want them to get knocked off or get dirty. He pouts every time, of course, but listens to you and draws his hand back– until the next time, of course.

Skylar, similarly, is enjoying his role as host. He enjoys letting everyone know what you did to help with the party, or which things were your idea. Luckily for him, a college party sort of runs itself, so he gets to spend plenty of time dancing and talking with you.

Declan is content to hang back a bit more than the other two, surveying the party goers. It’s sort of an unspoken rule between all of them that he watches you, and everyone who interacts with you, to make sure no one tries anything.

With Skylar and Oliver constantly hanging around you in turns, and Declan silently watching over you whenever they weren't around for one reason or another, they were usually more than able to make sure no one got too friendly with you. And sure, it may have also been a little hard to not hang around you and ogle, but could you blame them when you were prancing around in that outfit?

Still, they didn't always catch everything. For instance, Declan was preoccupied at the exact moment that a classmate, a ‘casual friend’ of yours, sauntered over to interrogate you about your outfit. He had a few too many strong drinks on his system, and didn't apply any thought to the action before he reached out, wrapped his fingers around your fluffy tail, and pulled.

Declan returned his gaze to you just in time to see the way you jolted and stumbled back in the direction he had tugged you a step with a yelp– that sounded a little bit too close to a moan for your own good.

“What's up with this thing?” The drunk friend asked, words slurring together, giving another insistent tug to your tail.

You reached back and smacked his hand, hard enough to get him to grunt and release you. “Don’t touch me!” You exclaimed, turning to give him a glare, ignoring the pleasant zings the tugging had sent through you and praying your face wasn't going red.

“Jesus!” He complained, rubbing his wrist where you has slapped him. “I just wanted to know how you got it stuck on there so good…”

Before you knew it, Declan had crossed the room, and was by your side. His arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you into his side and keeping you pressed against him with an iron grip.

“Don’t fucking grab him like that,” Declan warned, voice threatening enough to turn a few heads. It seemed to alarm your friend enough to allow him a few moments of sober clarity, and he put his hands up in the air.

“Hey man, it’s not a big deal. Just a costume,” he grumbled, but backed away– and almost ran into Skylar in the process.

You hadn't even noticed Oliver and Skylar both making their way through the crowd to you, not until they were already there. Oliver came to stand in front of you, blocking your view of Skylar and your friend.

“Are you okay sunshine?” Oliver asked, reaching out and rubbing his hand over your arm, eyes searching your face.

“I’m okay,” you say, nodding your head. “Thanks for helping out,” you tell Declan, who only nods his head at you.

Skylar joins the three of you after a second, reaching out and cupping your face, reassuring himself that you’re not upset. Still, they seem restless; after a second, Skylar looks at Declan and nods his head to the left, towards the archway of the living room.

Together, Declan and Oliver pulled you away from the main party, ignoring your occasional protests that you were really okay. Honestly, it made you feel a little warm and fuzzy to see them so worked up over you– not that you would admit it.

Skylar fell into step behind you, and the three of them pulled you into the bedroom furthest from the main party– Declan’s room.

“Now that its just us, are you really okay?” Oliver asked as Declan broke away from you to make sure the door was closed behind you.

While Skylar fretted over you, rubbing his hands over your arms and then reaching up to smooth his fingers through your hair, dangerously close to your ears, Oliver was rubbing his hands over your back and sides. Deep down, you knew they were going to find out– you couldn't tell if you were thrilled, or nervous.

“Your face is so red,” Declan noted, reaching out and grabbing your chin to inspect your face. With all of them having hands on you, it was difficult to decide where to focus.

“I’m fine! Just… hot!” You exclaim, but at that exact moment Oliver brushes his fingers over the base of your tail, wondering how it's attached to you– and you can't keep the moan in this time.

The three of them stop in your tracks, and you know you’ve been caught.

“Are these… real?” Skylar asked, and before you could answer, he was brushing his fingers over the base of your ear, stroking his fingers over the back of it and searching for where they connected to your head. At the same time, Oliver was inspecting the base of your tail, which was not doing you any favors.

“Oli–!” You gasped, reaching back to try and stop him, embarrassed. Oliver pushed your hands away, adding another gentle tug for good measure and pulling a strangled groan out of you.

“What the fuck,” Declan muttered to himself, but when you glanced back at him, afraid of the oncoming rejection, his gaze was roaming over you with utter fascination– and a hunger that made you shiver.

“I can't believe you were hiding this!” Oli exclaims from behind you, fidgeting with your tail and making you squirm. “And this feels good?”

“There’s just– a lot of nerves–!" you try to explain, but then Skylar is stepping closer to you, his thigh pressing in against your crotch, and your hands fly to his hips as you groan. There’s no hiding the bulge in the front of your skimpy little shorts, and there’s not lying about the way you respond to it.

When you look at Skylar, he’s grinning the exact kind of grin that lets you know you’re really in for it now. He pulls his hand away from your ear, sliding down to rest his hands on your hips, sliding his fingers into your shorts.

“You need help with something, baby?” He asks you, reaching his hand into your shorts to cup you through your tight underwear . His warm hand on you makes you shiver and suck in a breath, tensing up. “Come on, bunny,” he muses, “use your words.”

“We can’t know what you want if you don’t tell us,” Oliver says over your shoulder, circling his fingers around the base of your tail and tugging at it lightly. You whine, humping into Skylar’s hand.

You feel hot, your skin buzzing. You know you no longer have to worry about them rejecting you, thinking you’re a total freak… but now you worry about them toying with you until you break using this new information.

“Fuck, Sky, please,” you groan as he shifts his palm, rubbing his hand against you through your underwear.

He grinned a little wider. “Good enough,” he said, and slipped his hand past your underwear instead. He teased his fingers over the head of your cock, brushing his thumb over the slit as he wrapped his hand around you– so lightly that it was borderline nothing.

You squirmed and tried to breathe normally, but every now and then he would brush his thumb or his fingers over the sensitive spot under the head, and you would gasp and whine.

“Not enough for you, bunny?” Skylar asked, the name feeling equal parts degrading and loving.

Slowly, you shook your head, pushing your hips further forward. “Skylar, please,” you begged, hoping you didn't look half as desperate as you felt, “please, I need you to touch me!”

Declan stepped away from you, walking to his bedside drawer. You had seen him rummage through it enough times to know he was looking for lube, and your suspicion was confirmed when he closed the drawers and stepped back, a bottle in hand.

Oliver stepped just slightly to the side, allowing Declan to join him behind you once he had fetched the lube out of the drawer. Outside the bedroom door, the party raged on, music blaring. It may as well have been worlds away.

Oliver took his hands off your tail just long enough to finally, finally pulled your shorts and underwear down. He didn't even waste time pulling them all the way off of you, allowing them to fall and pool at your feet. Then he returned his hands to your back, raking his nails over the skin around your tail, making you shudder and arch your back.

“That must really feel good,” Skylar teased, still teasing his fingers so agonizingly lightly over your cock. “You look drunk, baby.”

You could barely respond, rutting desperately into his hand to get more stimulation. He never gripped you tight enough to give you what you wanted.

Declan placed his flat hand on the middle of your back, pushing you to bend forward just a bit. Skylar steadied you, kissing your forehead as he continued to tease you. You heard the sound of the cap on the bottle opening, and a liquidy sound after that. Skylar pulled his hand away, holding it out to Declan, and when he brought his hand back, he finally wrapped it around you completely. The cold lube made you shiver, but Skylar more than made up for it when he started pumping his hand up and down, gripping you firmly in his hand.

“Shit!” You cursed, moaning and rocking into his hand. “Ohh, fuck, Skylar–” you whined.

Then you felt a cold trickle of lube hit your skin as Declan squeezed it out of the bottle, before circling his fingers around your clenched hole, spreading the slick substance around. Slowly, while you were moaning and babbling about the feeling, he began to work a finger inside you.

With one hand, Oliver kept you steady, his fingers curling into your waist. With his other hand, he gripped your tail, tugging on it playfully. It made your head spin.

Your sentences became completely incoherent, especially as Skylar’s hand sped up. There were too many sensations for you to focus on; it was all pleasure, over every inch of your body. Your moans became gasping sobs, especially when Declan felt you were ready for a second finger, working two into you at once.

It wasn't until Declan started brushing the pads of his fingers against your prostate, at almost the same pace that Oliver was tugging on your tail, that you couldn't handle it anymore. Your body was tense, strung so tight between the three of them. You buried your face in Skylar’s shoulder, sobbing in pleasure, your legs shaking.

You held onto Skylar for dear life as the orgasm rocked over you, his and Oliver’s hands on your hips the only thing keeping you up. You cried, moaned and shuddered as they worked you through it, white cun splashing on Skylar’s hand. When it was over, Skylar made a show of licking his fingers clean of you, before leaning in close. Declan still didn't pull his fingers out of you.

“I’ll go end the party early, make sure that classmate of yours is... taken care of,” Skylar grinned, lifting your face to his and pressing hot kisses against your mouth; behind you, Oliver pressed a kiss to your shoulder and started running his fingers over your tail again, making you mewl from the sensitivity. “But when I come back, we’ll see if you have the stamina to match, bunny.”

Headcanon For Yan Gyomei, Rengoku, Uzui and Sanemi With A Very Perverted Gn Reader.

Warnings: yandere behavior and nsfw

A/N: since I already did Uzui, I’m going to do the other three. Hope you enjoy it, darling!

Gyomei Himejima:

He’s a shy giant once realizing you have such a naughty mind. While his face is completely red, realizing that you’ve always stared at his chest and ass, something inside him doesn’t mind it and he actually likes it.

Gyomei would rather not have you touch him inappropriately in public, but once at home, you can touch him as much as you’d like. Sure, he’s a bit embarrassed, but he loves feeling your hands on his abs and ass.

At home, this sweet giant has no complaints about you touching him – want to caress and squeeze his chest? Go right ahead, it is for you, after all. Need to suck his nipples as your mind is getting too feral? Gyomei makes sure to gently place you on his lap as a bulge appears, his quiet voice apologizing for interfering with your ‘hobby’.

Your kinks are something new to him. At times, they will overwhelm him. And while he’s more than happy to satisfy you, he’s scared of hurting or injuring in some way due to his size. But when learning you like all those type of stuff, he’s become more relaxed but still cautious in case.

Kyojuro Rengoku:

Renogoku is a bit surprised, sure he saw hints before, but he didn’t expect you to be this much obsessed with his chest and abs – it’s almost concerning to him.

Though, he immediately accepts it. If you want to play with his chest and suck his nipples? Go ahead, just expect Rengoku to be feral for the next few hours. Want to continually smack his ass? Oh, you’ll get it now; you can betcha that he’ll make it a game between you two.

Doesn’t mind that you come up behind him to squish his man boobs, he always smiles and interacts with you like nothing is going on other than spending the evening with his darling.

Your mind is something he really adores. Sometimes, coming home after missions is tiring and all he wants to do is smother you in all types of love. But at times, you have ideas that he’s more than happy to succeed in, making sure you scream loudly.

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

He’s also a sick-minded freak. Though, he’s better at hiding it. But once catching on that you have almost the same imagination as him, he’s smirking whilst teasing you; calling you all types of naughty names in the dictionary.

Sanemi is more stern about you touching him, but he overall doesn’t mind it. Though, he does expect for you to allow him to touch you about the same.

This tough man will be embarrassed the first time you touch his abs or chest, trailing to his neck and sucking on his nipples. He hates to say this, but he does like it… a lot. By the end of the session, he has a huge hard on that needs attention asap.

If you’re acting good, Sanemi might come home with a surprise; his nipples red and all sensitive from the nipple piercing he decided to get for you. He takes the healing very seriously, and while he does see your eyes continually drift to his chest, he makes you wait like a good darling till they’re healed – where the fun can actually begin.

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