#pillow makes his arm look all bent >:^( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sexbot300 · 3 months

Text

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ brat-tamer!toji

authors note: no thots, just him. this is just pure smut, sorry lollllll. need him so bad u don’t understand. with that being said, minors dni, 18+ ! thank you for the love on my first few posts! i appreciate it all of it <3 i'm not ignoring my messages btw, just extremely busy with my studies! ♡

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

brat-tamer!toji who notices you acting up and simply asks, “cranky because you ain’t got dick today?”

brat-tamer!toji who only looks at you with a raised brow and (huge) arms across his chest when you purposely try to piss him off. so cute.

brat-tamer!toji who purposely puts his entire body weight on top of you when you beg him to stop due to overstimulation. he tugs you even closer, just laughing in your face.

brat-tamer!toji who stops thinking coherent thoughts when he sees you in a sundress.

brat-tamer!toji who rewards your good behavior with head (lets you squirt) and also punishes your bad behavior with head (denies you relief, gives in eventually, sometimes).

brat-tamer!toji who loooovessssss shoving your face into the pillow while you whine, pant, and moan. he loves to put your head into a headlock with his bicep, as drool escapes your lips, and you’re babbling like an idiot while he’s hitting it from the back.

brat-tamer!toji who casually lifts you up and fucks you in the air as if just anyone can do it. “such a perfect little pocket pussy,” he snickers.

brat-tamer!toji who gets you cock drunk so often (he’s starting to think that it’s your normal state).

brat-tamer!toji who likes to make you count every time he spanks the fat of your ass when arched up across his lap. slap! “24…” you say with a slight moan, biting your bottom lip in, as he soothes the red outline forming on your cheek. he grins above you, “should’ve known a cock-bent whore like you would take this as pleasurable rather than punishment.”

brat-tamer!toji who makes a safe word with you early on (which you tease him for doing so early, he only tsks because he knows YOU know how much you mean to him and he puts your well-being above anything else).

brat-tamer!toji who has a hidden collection of pictures on his phone with you smiling, his cum decorating your face.

brat-tamer!toji who grips your face in the middle of a make out session, pulling away as he notices your fucked out, panting expression. “open.” you quickly open up your mouth as he slowly lets spit hit onto your tongue. he lightly chuckles. “obedient slut.” you look at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wanting more. “swallow.”

brat-tamer!toji who finds his favorite position to be when his massive balls are hitting your clit and he mercilessly pounds, abusing your little cunt from the back as he strings profanity out of his mouth. or a full nelson where he just tells you to, “shut the fuck up and take it.” or even a mating press where he can pummel his cum into you while seeing your face contort in pure bliss. “y-yeah. ‘ust let loose. go dumb on this dick.”

brat-tamer!toji who regularly calls you; “slut, (needy or cock) whore, vixen, pretty, disgusting, (stupid) bitch, brat, bad girl, good girl, perfect, beautiful, gorgeous, princess, angel, (sex or fuck) toy, doll, bunny, cum-slut, cum-dumpster, sugar… etc”

brat-tamer!toji who gets annoyed at your endless ramblings about your day, he sighs and tells you to get on your knees. you promptly do that, but to push his buttons you don’t stop rambling on and on and on. somehow, this man manages to get his 8 (girthy) inches down your throat. “cant complain with my cock in your mouth, huh?” he only smirks as you become teary-eyed, moaning a little at his statement, lapping your tongue up and down like a starving dog. he throws his head back, forearms supporting him while you bob your head back and forth on his thick length. “hey… never said that my cock doesn’t appreciate your tongue. s’ch a good girl when you do what you’re made for. unh!”

brat-tamer!toji who presses against you into a mirror, his broader, massive frame encasing you while he stares into your soul. “i-i don’t understand what i did?” you look up at him feigning innocence, batting your eyelashes. fingers caress his forearms, down his hard bicep, and lightly trace his hardened outline. his eyes never leave yours, a stern, menacing look to the average person, but you can tell he’s about to have you praying for mercy in another way. “of course you don’t understand what you did.” you whine slightly when his fingers suddenly grab a fist full of your hair, burning your scalp, his voice turns mockingly softer. “all you know in that pretty, empty, head of yours is just fucking. nothing else.” he quickly releases you, eliciting a gasp, magically flipping you around in an instant so you’re staring at yourself in the mirror now. “told you not to play with yourself until i came home. but you just haaad to be difficult.” he gripped the vibrator in one hand that was tucked away, pressing it against your lips. “spit.” you spat on it, eyes full of want. he only snickered and smirked. “good luck thinking I’m going to let you cum. stare in the mirror while I do this.” he turned the toy on, a vibrating tune humming throughout the room. “need you to realize how pathetic you look begging.” you gasped slightly, “b-but-" he proceeds to pry your legs apart with one massive thigh, his hand gripping the front of your neck, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “push your skirt up. you lost your right to cum, stupid whore. cum without permission, see what happens.”

brat-tamer!toji who loves to fuck you on his fingers. he loves the lewd noise it makes while ramming his two middle fingers in and out, or up and down. he loves to see your jaw go slack as you beg him to stop. “i-it’s… uhhhhhh! t-to- ah! -ji, toooooo-uhhh much!” he never loses focus, “yeah? yeah?” he presses his hand on your lower abdomen, “quite honestly, don’t care what you think.” he only licks his lips, his scarred lip grins with anticipation to finally taste you when you unfold.

brat-tamer!toji who degrades you like it’s a living but LIVES for your filthy mouth. he loves that you talk back, he’ll never admit it. he loves putting cum sluts like you in their place.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

brat-tamer!toji who weirdly… gets needy at times when you finish. he’ll hold you from behind, shutting his eyes while his arms are wrapped around, practically glued to your torso, the backside of your body molds perfectly to the front of his. legs intertwined, your head against his chest, a moment of pure bliss shared between you two. “who knew the big bad toji likes to cuddle?” “shut up.”

(silly toji! i need him to ruin me)

#jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x y/n #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #sexbot300 writes

7K notes · View notes

sanjisblackasswife · 10 months

Text

Thinking about how Gojo is a pervert when it comes to you and Geto’s relationshipp:

With Geto comes Gojo. You’ve been friends with them long enough to know they come in pairs, but you never expected them to be THIS inseparable.

“It’s embarrassing—ah~”

“‘S not that embarrassing if you just squeezed down on me.”

You only said yes to him watching you both once, but now it’s become a routine. Every other week Satoru comes over for a movie and games and it always ends with him at the end of your shared bed, fisting his dick to the sight of his best friends.

Feeling two pairs of lustful gazes on your body, you could sense when Suguru looks back up at Satoru for what he should do to you. You could almost hear Satoru’s giggles when he hears your strained moans from your boyfriend’s harsh thrust of his hips.

“Sat—“ You almost bit your tongue for how fast you almost slipped out a mistake, but it wasn’t ignored.

“Oh?” Suguru’s voice was laced with tease. His movements didn’t stop, but he did slow down his pace.

Grabbing you by the neck, forcing your back to hit against his chest, cold lips landed on your neck causing your back to arch more, “You almost said Satoru, huh? You want him to fuck you that bad?”

You couldn’t speak, all you could do was let out a pathetic whimper feeling his rough finger tip swirl circles on your wet clit.

Deep down Gojo was thrilled. He almost hoped youd say his name, maybe it would give Geto a chance to let him in on what he wanted most.

And he knew, The black haired boy knew how much his best friend wanted to sleep with you, but he always took away the opportunity the moment he knew Gojo was close to it.

It was a fun game for Suguru.

“Look at him.” He bent you back down, his palm firmly (but still gentle) around your jaw making your eyes meet Gojo’s white blindfold. You couldn’t tell if he was looking at your eyes as well or your marked breasts from earlier. But it felt intimidating, seeing his back against the chair, legs spread and hand slowly moving up and down his shaft.

He chuckles, noticing your eyes following the pace of his hand, “You’re drooling.” was all he responded with, his voice slightly shaky from already being so close to cuming himself,

but he wanted to hold it. Hold it long enough to cum with his best friends as Suguru made you look at Gojo stroke his dick to the snapping of his hips against your ass.

“‘M close..” You breathed out. Your arms ready to give out. So shaky, both of your cum and sweat splattering onto Geto’s pelvis, the lust filled noises of groaning and wet squelches fill the room.

Gojo’s heavy breathing began to get louder, you look up from your pillow, seeing the sight of his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His neck actually looked way more attractive than it should have. You clench yourself harder onto your boyfriend, the tightness wrapping around him made a pretty whimper fall through his lips.

Geto didn’t have to see your face to know your were looking right at him, he felt mixed feelings. On one side he wanted to be upset and put you on your back to remind you who you’re fucking right now. The other side of him wanted to see how far he can go to see if you’ll finally moan out Gojo’s name and use that excuse to have them both use you for the night.

“Shit!”

But alas, it may have to wait for another day, he was at his breaking point, his loose bun fell once again, leaving the wet stray hairs on his face, nothing but the growing sounds of slapping and moaning from everyone in the room bouncing off the walls.

The orgasms washed over your bodies, you finally let your body fall atop of the bed, but your pretty boyfriend manages to catch you by his forearm to have you lay your limp body ontop of his and under the covers.

“Can I sleep in bed you both too?” Gojo spoke, breathlessly, zipping up his black stained pants.

“No, pervert.” Geto throws the stranded pillow beside him to his friend’s face, letting a chuckle escape them both, you were sound asleep though, deaf to the comments they both made about you.

“She almost broke again. You know she’ll say yes. Just ask. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“No. Not until she says it herself. Until then, youre shit out of luck.”

#black reader #TimikosGeto #TimikosGojo #jjk imagines #jjk smut #geto #geto headcanons #geto imagines #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x black y/n #geto x black reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo headcanons #gojou satoru x reader

8K notes · View notes

callsign-datura · 5 months

Text

BREEDING KINK 141.

Ghost's breeding kink manifests after you express interest in having a kid.

He pistons in and out of you at a slow pace, his cock reaching impossibly deep with each thrust as you arch your back and put your ass up higher. You grip the sheets of the bed, whimpering quietly into the pillow you lay your head on as he leans over you and wraps an arm around your midsection, lifting your upper half up so he can whisper into your ear and hold you flush against him.

"You wanna be a mama? M'gonna make you a fuckin' mama."

He grunts, nipping at your earlobe as he angles his thrusts a little to reach deeper, the head of his cock knocking against your cervix with every other thrust.

"Gonna fuck you 'till it takes. Gonna fuck you every night and every mornin' to make sure it takes. Yeah, y'want that, sweetheart? Say you want it, love."

Soap's breeding kink has always been there, but he's never quite registered that he has one. It's not until you get baby fever that he starts thinking about having kids. You're getting baby products advertised to you online, and they start having the same effect on him.

"Oh, fuck, gimme a baby," you whimper, your face burying into his neck as your hips grind down into his. His head is tilted forward and he's watching your hips move, though his grip on your hips tightens when you utter the words. "Y'want a baby?" He mumbles, his grip on your hips tightening to the point where you whimper and stop. He releases it and looks up at you with those baby blues, and within a second he's got you on your back and your legs together, hanging over his shoulders as his thrusts pick up in speed.

"I'll give ye a baby, lass… give ye as many as ye want. Just say the word, sweet girl."

His thrusts get harder, and you're whining and mewling and you have your eyes shut tight as your orgasm takes over. He's cumming not long after, his cock twitching inside you as he pushes into you one final time.

"Mmm. Yeah, sweet girl, gonna give ye a kid… Can't tell me our kids won't be adorable."

Oh, Price? You don't have to tell him. He has a breeding kink, and it's obvious.

That man has FANTASIES about getting you pregnant. His breeding kink shows sometimes, like tonight.

He has you bent over the counter of your kitchen, your hair tangled up in his fist and his hand around your wrist, pulling on it gently and making you arch your back as he pounds into you.

Quick and rough thrusts as he grunts into your ear. "Imagine how you'd look, waddlin' 'round all swollen with my kid… can't wait till the day my cum finally takes, eh? I'll cherish you. Fuckin' cherish you." He whispers. His words are as rough as his thrusts, but they carry a gentleness. Especially when he's cumming. Wrapping an arm around your torso and letting you fall forward, picking up one of your legs by the underside of your knee and lifting it up and to the side so he can fuck you harder, he slams into you one final time before he's cumming buckets. The moment he notices his cum dripping out, he's pulling out and using two fingers to push hit back into you. mumbling something about not wasting a drop as he kisses your back.

Gaz's breeding kink is subtle. He only fucks you in positions where he can see your face. The day you start asking him to cum inside, he's thinking of you getting pregnant with his kid. Arms laced under your knees, hands on the plush of your ass and your back against the wall as he leans back and thrusts up into you. He's been fucking you slow like this for the past hour and you're getting needy. Squirming in his grip, pawing at your husband's chest and mewling about needing him to fuck you harder. He flashes that grin he wears whenever you've amused him and his movements suddenly ramp up in force as he pushes you further against the wall.

"Such a needy girl. Needin' me to fuck ya so hard you can't walk, huh? You've already came twice, what, d'ya want me to fill you up?"

Your cunt convulses around him.

"Yeah, that's it," he trills. "Needin' me to fill ya up so you can go to bed stuffed with my cum. Mm, maybe it'll take,"

He thrusts a bit harder into you and his grip on your ass tightens. He's thinking about filling you up even more now, and he can barely focus on anything but filling you up. So that's what he does. His thrusts stutter, and he throws his head back and groans out while you mewl.

"Oh, fuck. Mmm. Yeah, it'll take. Gonna give you a fuckin' baby, sweetheart."

#task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #mw2 141 #cod 141 #ghost x reader #ghost smut #soap x reader #soap smut #price x reader #price smut #gaz x reader #gaz smut

4K notes · View notes

ssahotchnerr · 8 months

Note

no but imagine pre-relationship aaron with fem!reader who can fall asleep anywhere & in the most uncomfortable positions known to mankind 💀 aaron is both terrified and amazed bcs how do you keep doing that 😧 but then every time he sees you like that he slowly & carefully arranges you in a more comfortable position 🥹🫶🏻 & the team gives him shit for it 💀

(luvie can I be 🪷 anon 🥹🫶🏻)

makeshift

omg stop i love that cw; fem!reader, bau family banter, pining aaron <333

falling asleep in a federal prison, may seem like a hard thing to do. surrounded by the worst of the worst, distant yells from the inmates floating down the hall, the mere location itself. but apparently, not for you.

the facility was currently on lockdown, meaning no one was going in or out, and therefore you were stuck overnight. as a result, the warden offered one of the locker rooms to be strictly the bau's 'break room', so to speak.

after his last, rather unpleasant interview of the evening, aaron was hellbent on a fresh, but not very good, cup of coffee. as he pushed the door open and entered, his focus diverted straight to you.

you were laid across a steel bench - eyes closed, hands clasped over your stomach, absolutely gone to the world. however, if you moved an inch - or probably less - would you completely topple onto the hard floor.

"you're kidding." aaron deadpanned as he looked at you in pure astonishment, coffee long forgotten.

"she's been like that for thirty minutes now." jj commented from where she was leant against one of the sets of lockers, head bent down as she scrolled through her phone. "but are we surprised?"

"nah," derek snorted lightly. "but hey, better than the floor."

"tell me about it." a low grumble came from reid, somewhere.

aaron's face pulled into one of discomfort, his brows drawing into a line above his eyes. the surface you were asleep on, had to be cold, for starters, by nature of the material and the a/c was still kicking in high gear despite the cooler temperature outside. the flat metal had to be highly uncomfortable, no cushion underneath you at all, most likely digging into your shoulder blades. you'd inevitably be waking up to an angry back, which aaron knew from experience - from past events where you miraculously drifted off in questionable positions.

eager to lessen the outcome, aaron shrugged his suit jacket off his shoulders. he balled it up, situating it snug under his arm.

next, he crouched beside you, cradling your head in his hand as he lifted it gently. at the movement, you stirred, a small noise escaping you and aaron froze, waiting for you to settle back down before resuming his actions. part of him feared his current, drumming heart would somehow rouse you more.

but once you had, he slid his jacket underneath your head - a makeshift pillow. it wasn't much, but it would at least alleviate some of the pressure collecting in your neck, and you wouldn't be as sore when you awoke. the next thing he had to figure out, something to lay on the ground, on either side of you, to soften the fall in case you were to-

"that's real cute hotch." derek grinned, grabbing aaron from his thoughts. "when you make up my bed next, can you add one of those pillow chocolates? thanks."

"funny."

aaron stole a glance at you, a calmness brushing over him and the ends of his lips daring to tug upwards into a smile. he couldn't help himself - sure, he wished you weren't fast asleep on a bench that could cause potential harm if you budged, but it didn't hide the fact that you were, well, you.

his hopeful, hidden attempt didn't go unnoticed by one person though, who naturally had to open their big mouth.

"that's nothing compared to that case in montana," aaron shot dave a pointed look to quit it, but only got a wink in return. "hotch practically carried-"

"dave."

"aaron." dave quipped back, an eyebrow quirked high in amusement, but fell silent. although, his witty expression didn't falter, as if he were noting to aaron that it wouldn't be difficult at all to be persuaded to continue.

"whoa whoa there, rossi," morgan straightened his posture, a hand out. "go on."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you #🪷anon

4K notes · View notes

falling-endlessly · 4 months

Text

Boomerang (part 2)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: After being faced with a dilemma, Vox tries a new approach to get you back. All hell breaks loose.

<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>

"You're shitting me right now," Velvette's eye twitched as she stared at the snoring TV demon sprawled across your bed. "For fuck's sake, what am I? A babysitter?"

"At least he's knocked out," you crossed your arms, raising a brow. "You won't have to listen him try and tell you that he lost his hat, only to realize it was on his head the whole time, and then start crying because he forgot he owned such a cool hat."

Velvette smacked her forehead audibly, dragging the hand down her face. "Jesus Christ," she hissed under her breath, before glaring at you in irritation. "You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn't left, right?"

"Vel," you said tiredly, rubbing your temples.

"Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear him bitch all goddamn day about you?" She growled, waving her hands around aggressively. "I'm this close," she held her fingers a millimeter apart. "To pouring water all over his monitors. This. Close."

"Vel—"

"And then there's Valentino, who's also in a fucking mood. You know what? Forget about the water. I'm going to shoot both of them in the—"

"Velvette!" You raised your voice, making her grit her teeth. "I'm not coming back. He made his choice," you glanced at the demon in question, currently drooling all over your pillow. "It's not my problem anymore."

"Is that what you think?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "That you can just, what, leave your shit in a mess and walk out? Sorry to burst your bubble bitch, but you aren't fucking Cinderella. Things aren't just going to magically work out if you hide from them."

"I'm not hiding—"

"Bullshit!" She growled.

Your jaw set tightly as you both stood in a tense silence, glaring at each other.

After a few seconds, you sighed, shaking your head. "He already knows what he has to do if he wants to fix this," you said firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind."

Velvette pressed her lips together, before letting out an irritated breath. "Always fucking cleaning up everyone else's messes," she muttered angrily under her breath as she roughly hoisted Vox's limp body over her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him. Pathetic piece of shit—keep up a good image my ass."

She was almost out of the window when you called out, "Vel."

Velvette turned to give you an annoyed what now look over her shoulder, scowling impatiently.

"Thanks," you said sincerely.

She didn't answer you, instead turning and vaulting herself out of the window, disappearing from sight.

****

Vox woke up feeling like his screen was being forcibly bent in half. "What the ungodly fuck?" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his sweaty bed sheets as he tried to control his breathing.

His stomach roiled ominously, making him gag. "Nope, nope. Not here," he stumbled out of bed, staggering to his attached bathroom like a desperate zombie and nearly running face first into the wall.

Vox dropped to his knees, flipping open the toilet lid and shooting out an unholy amount of chunks.

"What the—ugh, holy shit!" Velvette coughed from the doorway, shielding her face. "God, that smells worse than that skit when Angel got shat on."

Fuck you, he wanted to say. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?

But instead what came out was: "FUghhhuckk!"

Velvette watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. "You're an idiot."

"Not. Helping." Vox growled miserably, screen flickering as he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Velvette jeered unsympathetically. "Who dragged your pathetic drunk ass back here last night? Oh, that's right!" She snapped her fingers in a mock eureka! moment. "I did. How about a little gratitude?"

Vox lifted a weak, trembling hand and flipped her off.

Velvette rolled her eyes. "Ungrateful bitch," she muttered under her breath.

Vox heaved loudly into the toilet, making her cringe. Gross. She grabbed the hand towel off of the rack, before throwing it at his head. It landed on the top of his monitor, hanging off the corner, before he grabbed it and sluggishly wiped his mouth. "I th-think I'm sh-short circuiting," he groaned, gripping his head in pain.

"You'll be fine," Velvette closed her eyes in frustration, but internally her thoughts took a different turn. She hadn't seen Vox this fucked up in ages. Val maybe. But not Vox. He cared way too much about his public image. This erratic behavior was very, very unlike him, and it was starting to become...concerning.

"What happened?" Vox coughed, leaning his monitor weakly against his forearms. The last thing he remembered was the fight with Val, and then—a garden...? The hell?

"Well, apparently, your dumbass thought it was a good idea to pay Y/n a visit—" Vox froze at the sound of your name "—to personally deliver her flowers at three in the morning. Then you cried about your stupid hat, passed out in her room, and she called me to pick you up like an incompetent child. The end."

By the end of her rant, Vox's expression looked even more pained, if that was even possible. "Shitttt," he moaned, curling in on himself. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck."

He looked so pathetic and distraught that Velvette almost felt bad for him. Almost.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were Vox's labored breaths and Velvette's judgmental stare. The silence was starting to border on stifling when Vox finally broke it.

"Did she like it?" He asked quietly.

"What?" Velvette scowled, crossing her arms.

"The roses," he continued, making her raise a brow. So he did remember buying the flowers then, she never told him what kind they were. "Did she like them?"

She was about to dismiss it when a sudden memory struck her, making her pause. "She kept them. In a vase on her night stand."

Vox slowly lifted his head, a warmth (not bile this time) blooming in his chest. You kept them. Even though he'd made a fool out of himself and probably ruined your night. And you didn't kick him out, either.

You still care, he realized, with a fragile, growing hope.

And that meant—he had a chance. Not baseless hope this time, an actual, legitimate chance to win you back. A slow, goofy grin started to climb his face.

"What—what the fuck? What's with the idiotic look on your face?" Velvette cringed away, disturbed. Then realization hit her as her eyes rolled skyward. "You're going to do something incredibly stupid, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he grinned, before another bout of nausea hit him, making him retch violently into the bowl.

"Idiot," Velvette reiterated.

****

"Oh, hell no," you heard Vaggie say, making you glance up. The moth demon looked incredibly hostile, spear pointed at whoever was at the door.

Concerned, you lifted from the lounge chair you were seated in, taking a few steps towards them, only for a firm hand to land on your shoulder.

"Toots," Angel Dust laughed nervously, moving to block the scene with his body. "Maybe you should let the others sort this one out, yeah?"

"Angel, I know I don't look like much, but I'm an overlord," you raised a brow, peeling his hand off of your shoulder with ease. "I can probably help."

"Shit! Wait, you're not going to like this," Angel groaned under his breath, but it was too late. You'd already seen him.

Vox caught your eye, a charming smile quirking his mouth. "Hey, doll."

Your fists curled by your sides, eyes flashing dangerously as you started to dematerialize, glowing green code dancing along your skin. You glitched out, growing substantially in stature as your mouth distended horrifically.

"Ohhh shit," Angel cursed, taking cover behind the bar counter.

"What's wrong?" Charlie's confused voice came from the stairwell, only to gasp at your demonic form, glitching horribly as your voice raged like gravelly static. It almost sounded like there was another, deeper voice speaking in tandem with yours.

"Woah!" She bolted to the scene, catching sight of a pale Vox, shocked Vaggie, and gaping Niffty. Husk, Pentious and Angel had done the smart thing and taken cover behind the bar.

"Y/n," she smiled placatingly, raising her hands in a show of non-aggression. "What's going on?"

"Gonna kill him," you spat, making everyone wince. "Can't have one goddamn moment to myself without this fucker appearing like a fucking genital wart—"

"Hey," Vox laughed nervously. "I'm not here for any of that, I promise. Just—sweetheart—could you maybe not hover over me like that—"

"O-kay Y/n," Charlie stepped between the two of you. "Maybe just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and let's hear him out."

"Charlie, he blew up the hotel two days ago," Vaggie hissed through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, well, so did Pentious," Charlie raised a brow, wincing at said demon's faint protest.

"Pentious blew a hole in the wall," Vaggie argued. "This guy blew up half of the building!"

"Charlie!" Angel yelled, voice strained. "Do something before we all die!"

"Alastor's going to kill him," Niffty said cheerfully.

"I'll kill him first."

"Guys—" Charlie pleaded.

"I'm here for redemption!" Vox's voice cut through the air, making everyone freeze. It even shocked you out of your demonic form, the glowing code disappearing as you shrunk to normal proportions.

"You what?" you snapped.

"I want to...make things right," he glanced at you, making you grit your teeth and turn away. "I'm not here to cause trouble I swear—"

The door slammed in his face, cutting him off.

"Charlie," Alastor grinned, finally pulled from wherever the hell he'd fucked off to in his free time. "Tell me you're not thinking of letting this mongrel stay, are you?"

"What is this?" Vaggie hissed, dropping her head in her hands. "Overlord central?"

Charlie looked down, pursing her lips. "Well, it would be wrong of us to refuse anyone. It is open to everyone, after all."

"Think of Y/n!" Alastor said desperately, smile twitching as he clasped his hands on your shoulders, holding you out like some sort of charity case. You gave him an unimpressed look. "It's obvious he's only here to harass her!"

"And what were you here for again?" Charlie raised a brow. "To see demons trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure," she deepened her voice to imitate his, making him let out a screech of radio feedback.

"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself," you said, disgruntled as you shrugged off Alastor's uncomfortably tightening grip. "Charlie, do what you want. But I can't promise I won't kill him."

You were starting to accept the fact that there was nowhere in hell you could possibly go to escape your ex if he didn't wish it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a fight, though.

"Oh fuck," Angel dragged a hand down in face. He already knew what Charlie was going to decide. "Shoulda fuckin' stayed over with Cherri."

Charlie took a deep breath, and despite everyone's silent pleas, reached for the door handle and twisted it open. Vox perked up, turning towards her attentively.

"Welcome to Hazbin Hotel!" She attempted an awkward, welcoming smile.

****

<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah

2K notes · View notes

peachdues · 3 months

Text

Levi Ackerman can and will blow your back out, but he’s also the type to lean in and press his lips hard against your forehead when you’re in the middle cumming so prettily for him.

He has your legs bent and nearly pinned to your ribs beneath the solid mass of his body. His arms are braced on either side of your head, one hand loosely fisted into your hair to make sure you keep your eyes on him and him alone. Every bit of his weight bears down into you, and it strikes you that between the fullness you feel from his cock and the pressure of his body against yours means there is no part of you that isn’t being thoroughly and completely consumed by him.

He curls one arm over your head, caging you in against the pillow while the other shoves between your sweat-slickened bodies. You think he means to play with your clit, but instead his hand presses firmly against your lower stomach as he continues hammering into you, allowing the blunt head of his cock to push repeatedly against that spot deep within that makes your vision turn white and your toes curl.

“There you are — oh,” he smirks at how you begin trembling beneath him, and the vibrations of your body only magnify as he rubs his hand in time with each hard grind of his hips as his cock continues bullying deeper and deeper into your soaking heat. “That’s the spot, huh, pretty girl?”

His smug, mocking smirk is a front; you know it by the way the muscles in his shoulders tense, signaling he’s summoning every bit of his own will power to fight off his own release, far too invested in savoring yours.

You’re also trying to hold on, and he knows that; he can sense it in the way your nails bite into his back, can see it in how your teeth sink into your plump bottom lip.

You want to cum — badly. And he’s more than eager to see you fall apart.

A growl, low and possessive builds in his throat. “Go on then — be a good girl and give me what I want.”

He gives another sharp, pointed thrust of his hips, burying himself all the way to his hilt before grinding against you, hard. “Let go,” he orders, his voice firmer and you know the leash he has on his own restraint is rapidly fraying.

Levi exhales a quiet swear of relief when he feels your cunt finally seize around him like a vice, and he is transfixed by broken staccato of his name that falls from your pretty lips as your climax washes over you like a wave. A surge of pride wells in his chest at how you manage to keep your eyes locked with his, even though he knows your instinct is to let them roll back into your head as you float among the clouds of pleasured bliss only until he can reach in and haul you back down to earth.

“Atta girl,” he coos, and the pace of his hips slow from those relentless, bruising thrusts to a gentle canting, each roll into your heat deep and purposeful. Then, he feels a surge of your wetness gush over him, dampening the coarse hairs of his base as the walls of your cunt continue to flutter and pulse around him, and Levi somehow finds himself becoming even more smitten with you than he already is. “Oh — it’s a big one, isn’t it?”

And when you look up at him with those big eyes of yours — wide and sparkling with tears of pleasure and exhaustion- and you nod, lower lip quivering, Levi can’t help but lean forward to press his lips to your forehead, as he continues fucking you through your high.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against your damp forehead, his groin churning torturously against yours. “Good fucking girl, cumming for me like this.”

Each grind of his coarse base right against your clit sends sparks additional waves of electrifying pleasure rocking through you until your legs are twitching and spasming beneath him. But Levi only chuckles, the sound dark and rich and so distinctly him.

He continues to guide you through the dizzying ripples of your orgasm, and when the last, gentle wave flickers out like a candle flame, Levi imparts one, final kiss against your forehead.

And then he pulls back, but he is not finished — no where near it, in fact. One by one, your legs are pushed over his shoulders until your knees are pressed to your chest, and his lips curl into something between a grin and a sneer.

He leans down and presses his mouth to the shell of your ear, and you’re not sure whether it’s the heat or his breath or the severity of his promise that sends an excited chill down your spine as he hisses, “My turn.”

Banners from @/benkei-bear!

2K notes · View notes

madamecaos · 3 months

Text

Angst/Comfort

(Not proof-read sorry)

Where Simon hurts you and makes up for it.

————————

“Just one more kiss, pretty girl,” Simon mumbled against the plush of your trembling thighs. He planted a slow and wet kiss on your clit, making you shiver at the overstimulation.

He had been at it all night.

Your whines at his lack of attention had given him an attitude. The files before deployment wouldn’t sign themselves, and you wanted to spend the little time you had together doing something couply.

In return, he answered in displeased huffs at your lack of understanding. That this was his job.

When you mentioned that he had agreed to a simple shopping trip beforehand, he exploded in frustration and anger. All directed at you, at your clinginess.

How you weren’t a little girl anymore, that he was not responsible for.

Instead of the expected denial or angry rebuttal, you went quiet. You allowed him to finish his job as you hid in your shared bedroom. In the rising pile of work, he didn’t notice.

Finally, standing up with a giant stretch, Simon realized the silence in his usual boisterous shared flat.

He asked for your name and no answer was given.

The apartment was dark, inhabited. Or so he thought, until he saw a still lump beneath his bedsheets. For a second he thought you were sleeping, retreating back to close the door behind him.

Until he saw you shake, a motion accompanied by a sniffle.

Simon sighed, head bent down at his inadequacy. He was often the monster that made you cry the most.

“Hey,” he cooed, settling behind you, brushing your hair as he called for your attention. You refused to look back at him, pretending to be asleep. “I’m done now. How about that shopping expedition, hm?”

You shuddered, holding in the sobs at his new compliance.

“Hey…” he tried again, yet not finishing the sentence already suspecting which words of his afflicted her.

Not very vocal, Simon laid down beside her then hugged his arms around her midsection, dragging her towards him in a cuddle.

You sniffled again, trying to muffle the sounds with your pillow.

“I… I didn’t mean what I said,” he started, tentatively petting her arm. “You’re not clingy. In fact, I think is the opposite.”

At that confession, you looked sideways, opting to stare him from your peripheral. Not ready to face him.

“I think about you so much, love. Enough to fuck up in missions. Enough for Price to send me home with a mount load of paperwork just because I was missing you.”

“Really?” You asked meekly, voice raw.

“It was the only option where I could see you… and I mucked it up.”

You rolled over slowly, still in his arms. Now facing each other in the low light bleeding through your sheer curtains.

“But you’re right,” you started, eyes watering and unable to look at his. “I’m not a little girl, you shouldn’t be made responsible for-“

“No.” He cut you off severely, decided. “You’re my girl. Little, big, fun size, whatever. You’re my girl.”

He grasped your cheeks between his palms, thumbs brushing away the tears.

“And it’s my responsibility to take care you. It’s a choice I made and I stand by it. Your needs are my needs… and your tears are my tears,” he flickered another tear away from your waterline. “And I made you cry because you wanted to spend time with me… and said those foul things in anger.”

He finished the sentence in a whisper, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “So, allow me take care of you, hmm?”

The gentle kisses on your forehead drifted over tenderly to your temple. Down to your wet cheeks, then your trembling lips.

Suddenly, with a little more urgency, he whispered against your mouth the words that had you trembling minutes later beneath his torturing tongue.

“Let me make you forget what I said.”

An hour later, after he removed every single item of your clothing, down to the socks of your feet, you laid back with your legs spread wide. A man easily twice your size suckling sloppily at your clit, caressing its hood with his placid tongue.

By the fourth orgasm, as your eyes closed drowsily, you certainly had forgotten any ill words directed at you.

#cod simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod smut #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod modern warfare

3K notes · View notes

frenchkisstheabyss · 10 months

Text

♡ SKZ Members Who'd Love Sleeping On Your Belly ♡

♡ All of the love to @skz-story-request-always-open for asking me to do this adorably fluffy request ♡

While I'm sure any of our OT8 cuties would love cuddling up to a soft belly, these are the four who I think would be in absolute heaven if you let them do it.

♡ Felix ♡

You let him fall asleep on your belly once and he's refused to do anything else since. At this point, if you even joke about not letting him do it you'll break his heart

Seriously, you can offer him the fluffiest of pillows and he won't touch them because nothing's more comfy than dozing off on you with his favorite song or show in the background

It's never unexpected when he lays on you because he tends to come running at you full force with his arms open and his face lit up, making cute little noises that let you know it's time for cuddles

As much as he enjoys your softness, what really makes it special to him is the closeness and vulnerability he feels when he's curled up against you with your arm around his neck, fingers playing with his hair as sleep takes him

♡ Bang Chan ♡

His reputation as someone who rarely sleeps is unshakable at this point, insomnia's basically a part of his lore, but he's out like a light the second his cheek meets your belly

Something that always gets him is when you come up beside him while he's working and stroke his cheek, letting him lean his head on you. As someone who's responsible for taking care of so many people, it's nice when it's his turn to be cared for

He can, will, and has fallen asleep in the sitting position because you're so comfy, and having you in his presence is incredibly peaceful for him, quieting the thoughts swirling around in his mind

Nothing's cuter than the look on his face when you wake him up enough to make it to the bed or couch where he can truly settle in, interlocking his body with yours so that you can't go anywhere

♡ Binnie ♡

This man's obsession with sleeping on your belly is the precise reason why you wake up with random body aches some days

He doesn't care where you are, what you're doing, or what time of day it is. If he feels himself nodding off, he has to find a way to get you into any position necessary for him to get to it

Clearly, he's not particular about if you guys are bent sideways to make it happen but he does have preferences when it comes to what you wear. His favorite thing to see you in is a t-shirt because it means his hands get easier access to squishing your belly

There's nothing remotely sexual about his habit of slipping his hand under your shirt to play with your belly. It's relaxing for him. It also helps that you giggle when he does it a certain way. He could never get tired of that

♡ Han ♡

He never gets a better night's rest than when he's using your belly as a pillow but going to sleep's rarely, if ever, what he had in mind when he first laid down

It's a good thing though because, with all of the energy he has, he can start to feel burnt out at times and he always knows he can come to you as a safe space to restore his energy since you don't really want anything from him other than, well, him

Even though it's technically your stomach he goes feral if anyone tries to peel him away from you. You're his baby and he's gonna cling to you for dear life for as long as he can

His belly might not be as soft as yours but he constantly insists that you lay on him too so that he can hold you and sing you to sleep, watching over you to make sure you sleep as peacefully as he does

#stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons #stray kids x you #changbin x you #changbin x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix fluff #bang chan fluff #han jisung fluff #changbin fluff

4K notes · View notes

sweet-as-an-angel · 3 months

Note

What about Graves with a breeding kink or if reader is pregnant? I know you don't rlly write for him a lot, but I love when you do.

Idk if you'll feel like answering this, but ily and ur fics regardless 🫶

Graves w/ a Breeding Kink

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Breeding Kink, Possessive Graves, Housewifery, Pet Names,Profanity, Fem! Reader.

He lusts for the American dream; the very foundations upon which he continues his existence. To have – to create – a family. And he can think of nobody better to achieve that dream with than you.

He’s on top of you, arms either side of your head, gasping, panting, bent over you and exerting every inch of himself as if you were crafted of some divine substance with tools far beyond human comprehension.

He’s been at it for hours now. You see it in the way his hair sticks together, slicked with sweat as it drips down his face, hear it in the thick, wet sound of his cock slipping back into you with every thrust of his hips, feel it in the growing ache in your abdomen as he fills you again, letting out a strangled, short-breathed moan as your body squeezes around him. He doesn’t let up, though.

He pushes through, gripping you by your hips and pulling you closer onto him. You gasp, back arching as he hits a spot deeper within you. An area he’d been abusing all night,

“B’such a good little mommy for me,” he whispers into your hair, just above your ear. He presses a lopsided kiss there, lip wet from the many times he’s drawn it into his mouth with his teeth.

“Y’want that, Sweetness?” he pants, looking into your eyes with his half-lidded pair. “Want me to–” – he grunts – “want me t’make you mine from the inside out?”

You can’t get the words out fast enough; garbled and twisted, they come out tangled and in knots, as if tripping over each other to reach a unified ‘yes’. With the little energy you have left, you nod with all the enthusiasm your half-gone mind can conjure. Graves smiles, giving a brief, airy laugh. “Knew I’d made the right choice pickin’ you. Knew you’d make a good housewife for me someday,”

You clench. Graves gasps. He brings warm lips to yours as if to press his love there, as if you are to now impart upon him that which he has longed for for years unnumbered; a family.

He angles deeper, presses his throbbing, pulsating instrument into the most inconspicuous part of you that has you arching your back and letting out an almost-scream. Your knees press into the sides of Graves’ waist, tightening around him just as your cunt did. He yells, uses every ounce of his strength to not collapse on top of you, the tip of his nose against yours. Something in him tightens, snaps, and he floods you for the umpteenth time, pressing himself deeper, making sure his seed takes.

Not that you can see for your eyes being screwed shut, but Graves gazes upon you as you bask in the afterglow of his labour, feeling a smile creeping up onto his cheeks as he takes in your every feature. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s seen them, in one form or another, he never stops being fascinated – enamoured – by them. By you.

When you come down, come to, you give Phillip a smile he knows all too well – one that preludes your telling him you’re ready for bed. He all but pounces on you as you turn onto your side, taking you by the wrists and pressing them into the pillow beneath you. A dark glimmer passes through his eye, and he gives you a hazy, slithering smirk, followed by his southern drawl.

“Oh no, Princess,” he says, taking your chin between his fingers.

“We’re not done ‘til I say we’re done.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod smut #mw2 #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #graves x reader #graves mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader

2K notes · View notes

buckyalpine · 10 months

Text

Needy Bucky x CEO reader

Filth and nothing else.

Imagine Bucky jerking off watching you get ready in the morning. You're up before him, hair styled while sitting at the vanity applying your make up when his eyes flutter open. He looks adorable with his fluffy hair messy from sleep, face cuddled up in the pillow but the second his eyes land on you, you know his thoughts are anything but innocent.

"Good morning handsome" You coo, looking at him over your shoulder before going back to getting ready, giggling to yourself over the huff he lets out.

"Baby, m'so hard right now" He groaned, a hint of a whine in his voice as he watched you swipe your lipstick across your lips.

"Bucky" your voice is a warning, knowing damn well that he hardly has to beg, you're just as needy as he is but you can't give into him this morning.

"S'not fair. Can't you come here and suck it a little" He almost pouts and you consider giving in, teasing him with your tongue but you have back to back meetings scheduled and you know you can't be late.

"I can’t baby, I don’t have time" You swirl your brush around your powder, dappling it onto your cheek and the action makes Bucky's cock throb.

"Fine, then let me enjoy the view" He shrugged, throwing the bed sheet off, letting you see his achingly hard cock straining against his briefs.

"You wouldn’t" You looked at him through the mirror feeling your own panties dampen. He smirked, lifting his hips up to pull down his briefs, tossing them aside and spreading his legs wide, his arm propped under his head while his other hand trailed down his body, squeezing around the base of his thick cock.

“Oh fuck baby” He moaned watching you dab gloss to the center of your lips before slipping your robe off leaving you in just your bra and panties, sauntering off into the closet to put on your skirt and blazer. He gave himself long languid strokes, careful to touch himself slowly so he could take his time admiring you.

"You look so pretty" His voice was a whisper as you emerged, sucking in a breath when you bent over to slip on your panty hose, beads of precum dribbling down his shaft. "The things I'd do to you when you're bent over like that, fuck me"

Bucky's lip was caught between his teeth, abs tensed as his mind started to wander while twisting his hand rhythmically around the head of his cock.

"You want me to visit you in your office today baby?" He smirked, noting your thighs clenching together, desperate for some type of friction. "I can be a good boy for you, y'know"

"A-and how's that" You tried to keep your voice steady but Bucky made it impossible.

"Anything you like angel. I'd be happy to just stroke my cock to you all day, wouldn't disturb you baby. Just let me sit on that couch of yours and watch my pretty baby work, would make my cock bust so fast. I'd touch myself just like this, you have no idea how hard I get for you doll"

The thought of getting to be in your office sets off a chain of dirty thoughts and he lets you know every single one.

"Or I can get on my knees for you. Right under your desk. Pull that little skirt up and take those panties off, nurse on that pretty clit of yours, help you relax"

"You have no idea what I'd give to sit on your table and stroke myself while you sit at your desk, fucking hell, I'd make such a mess"

"Cover your table with my cream, let your office know how sexy you are. Do you have any idea how perfect you are, doll"

His eyes close for a moment, head lulling to the side between whimpers and moans because he's on cloud nine. You're the prettiest, sweetest, smartest person he knows and he gets to love you, hold you, fucking lie in bed and just touch himself to you like a horny little boy and you let him.

You're everything to him and more.

"My balls are throbbing right now baby, they're so fuckin' full" He threw his head back, chest heaving, eyes now focused on you while his thighs tensed.

"God, I want those over my shoulders" He panted while you slipped your heels on, his mind now thinking about being balls deep in you while you wear nothing but your perfect black heels.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck, m'gonna cum for you baby" his hips squirmed against the bed, rutting and thrusting upwards into his fist while you sprayed your perfume, the combination of how you looked and smelled too much for him. You took one final look in the mirror, not a strand of hair out of place, sauntering over to your needy boyfriend, his skin slick in a sheen of sweat.

"You like that you see baby?" You cooed while he nodded, looking at you with glassy eyes, jerking himself faster.

"You're so beautiful, I can't-" He lets out a choked sob when you remove his hand away from his throbbing length, nearly crying when you carefully take him into your mouth.

"Baby what are you-baby y-you can't, I'll fuckin' bust till it drips and spills out your mouth, fuck- OH FUCKKKK I'm gonna cum for you!" You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, letting your tongue swipe across his leaking slit, your mouth instantly filled with ropes of his thick cum, endlessly shooting down your throat. You swallow everything with ease, lipstick still perfectly in place, makeup un-smudged.

Bucky let out a needy whimper, spurts of cum still dribbling out as you pulled off him, his hand firmly gripping onto the sheets while you come up to him and run your fingers through his tousled hair.

"Good boy" You caressed his scruffy cheek, pecking his lips once more before getting up and heading out the door. Bucky licked his hips, tasting remnants of himself, eyes growing wide when you looked over before locking the door.

"Come by later if you're not busy"

He would.

He definitely would.

5K notes · View notes

strawchocoberry · 10 months

Text

SHE SAID “FUCK ME LIKE I’M FAMOUS”, I SAID “OKAY”

୨୧ featuring: shidou ryusei, oliver aiku, barou shoei, chris prince, michael kaiser x fem reader

ଘ cw: manga spoilers || smut, nipple play, fingering, size kink, pet names, rough sex, dumbification, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m receiving), mirror sex, pillow humping, masturbation, voyeurism, degradation kink, thigh fuck, thigh riding, dacryphilia, breeding kink, creampie

୨୧ synopsis: they ruin your little cunt while you’re wearing their jerseys

ଘ wc: 4.5k

ʚ SHIDOU RYUSEI ɞ

“Shidou!” you called for him. “Your package is here!”

Shidou didn’t respond to you. Curious about the contents of the package, you decided to open it for him. Knowing him, it was probably just some new sex toys or that maid outfit you had accidentally discovered that he ordered for you a few days ago. Your eyes widened as you saw the official U-20 uniform inside for his upcoming game. You traced your fingers on the back of the jersey along his name and number; Shidou 13. Taking your shirt off, you tried it on, the jersey barely covering your ass, as you were twirling around in the living room.

A pair of two arms wrapped around your body, bringing your movements to a stop. You felt his hot breath fanning your neck, as he rested his head on your shoulder. “Seems like my package has arrived.” Shidou kissed your neck. Not the one he was impatiently waiting for, but fuck, he had never imagined seeing you in his jersey. His hands slithered underneath it, grazing your skin and making your breath hitch. A menacing smirk was curved on his lips as he realised you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. “Are you trying to seduce me, kitten? ‘Cause it’s fucking working…” he whispered in your ear.

He was rubbing his clothed cock on your ass, whilst kissing your lips and playing with your nipples underneath his jersey. He hadn’t thought that seeing you in it would have this much of an impact on him and yet there he was, turned on and needy to fuck you. Placing two of his fingers in front of your mouth, he signalled you to open it for him and you obliged, your tongue sucking his fingers oh so perfectly, coating them with your saliva. He then slipped said fingers into your cunt, violently thrusting them in and out, having you bent over screaming, unable to maintain your composure.

Shidou turned you around to face him and kissed your lips, as he guided you towards the couch behind you. The two of you lay down on your sides, still facing each other. His tongue slipped into your mouth, as you shared steamy open-mouthed kisses. Breaking your kiss, he removed your shorts and panties, placing your leg on top of his thigh, then rubbed teasing circles around your hole, making you moan, before he muffled your sounds with another kiss. You gasped, as he pushed his fingers in your cunt, picking up from where he left off earlier.

You moaned as you sucked on his tongue, turning him on even more. You could see it in his eyes that were looking at you so lovely and yet so lustfully. Burying his face on the crook of your neck, he left behind hickeys and bite marks, leaving his mark on your body, while simultaneously fucking your wet pussy with his fingers, as you held tightly onto his shirt, your head thrown back and moans escaping your lips. You tightened around him, as you came undone, moaning his cursed name.

You were panting hard in an attempt to regulate your breath, while Shidou kept fingering you through your orgasm, spreading your slick all over your inner thighs. Giving you a little time to collect yourself, he stood up and got rid of his clothes. He stood above you, one knee over the couch, his hand stroking his hard cock at your fucked out state, feeling the dopamine taking him to cloud nine, painting your ass cheeks with his cum. “Fuck— You’re making me explode, baby girl,” he groaned in pleasure. He then sat back down, taking you in his embrace, your head falling back on his shoulder, still quite dazed.

Lining himself with your hole, you held onto his hands, as you slowly went down on him, a deep moan leaving your lips and having Shidou fight back his urge to go feral on you like a bitch in heat. You bounced yourself on his cock, moaning as he reached deep inside you. He was stretching oh so perfectly your gummy walls, you could feel every inch of him. His head had fallen back on the backrest, as Shidou kept looking at you riding him in his shirt. Only the thought that he’ll be wearing that shirt to the upcoming game had him on the verge of orgasming.

He leant closer, biting down on your neck and engulfing himself in your scent. That’s when he snapped. Shidou held your waist bruisingly tight, before going ballistic, forcing your hips down on his shaft, his balls hitting your ass. You felt the air being violently driven out of your lungs, mouth agape and voice cracking, as your brain blacked out. “Go ahead. Cum all over my cock for me, baby girl,” he breathed in your neck. Your body obeyed his command, before your brain could even process it.

ʚ OLIVER AIKU ɞ

“It’s too bad that you lost to Blue Lock, but goodness you were so hot at that moment!” you squealed enthusiastically, watching for the 1000th time the moment Oliver congratulated Blue Lock on their win. The way he removed his glove with his teeth had you on a chokehold.

Oliver could only just lay on the bed, running his fingers through your hair as you fangirled over him. He couldn’t help but find it kind of cute. “Well, now that the Japan U-20 team will be reconstructed by Blue Lock, I can’t help but wonder when — or more accurately if — I’m ever going to wear that uniform again.” He leant closer ready to kiss your lips, when you suddenly stood up and left the room, leaving him high and dry. He laughed at himself and just lay on his back with his eyes closed.

“No matter what happens, I will always be rooting for you!”

Hearing your voice, he opened his eyes to a surprise. You crawled towards him on the bed, wearing his jersey and kissed his lips softly. You were only going for an innocent little peck of his lips, but you should have known better. Oliver ran his fingers through your hair, his hand finding its way to the back of your head keeping you steady. You opened your eyes confused only to notice the libido gleam in his eyes; the bloody gaze of his that always had your body quivering with exhilaration.

You melted all over him, grinding your already soaked cunt on his clothed cock. His hands rested on your ass, adding more force and friction to your movements. You moaned in your kiss, starting to lose yourself in the moment. Ridding you of your clothes, everything but his jersey, you stood on your knees on the bed, Oliver sat in-between your legs and pulled you down for another kiss, a more aggressive one, his tongue taking the upper hand of yours. He started rubbing your folds with two of his fingers, while his thumb was stimulating your clit, having you grab onto his shoulders for support.

You gasped at how smoothly your cunt welcomed his fingers, tightening just right around them, making you feel them drag themselves along your velvet walls. Oliver curled them up, hitting your g spot, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body, as you moaned his name. He was bewitched at the sight of your lips parting to sing his name in his favourite tone, while you were wearing his jersey. His boner was starting to become unbearable. Pulling his sweatpants down, he used his free hand to stroke himself at the same tempo he fingered you.

“Oliver… Need you… I need your cock inside me…” you moaned.

“Ah fuck—” he shakily breathed as he cummed in his hand.

You followed right after. As your body was overtaken by ecstasy, he removed his fingers, earning some whines from you. Holding your waist, he slowly slid you down on his shaft, making you moan at the sensation. You were impatient, so you started riding him, moving your hips relatively fast, feeling him stretch you out just like you wanted. With a swift move, Oliver manhandled you into lying on your stomach, him hovering on top of you and viciously pounding into your cunt.

You had turned your face to the side, looking at him over your shoulder, as you moaned “Oliver…” and he would stumble to keep his sanity together, observing how gorgeous you were in his jersey. “Aiku 2” he read on the back, as he fucked you dumb, while leaving hickeys all over your defenseless neck. Maybe he needed to teach you a few things about defence. Or maybe he shouldn’t, because that would only make things more difficult for him.

Your ass cheeks had turned red from the relentless thrusting of his hips. Oliver captured your lips, muffling your moans, as you kept creaming all over his cock. It was as if you wished he stayed there deep within you for eternity. And you indeed wished that. One of his arms wrapped underneath your hips, rubbing your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You trembled underneath him and yet you couldn’t go anywhere. You were caged beneath him, forced to take everything he gave you.

“I can never get enough of your tight little cunt, love,” Oliver moaned in your ear. You screamed, as you came undone, your fingers intertwined together, as he railed your pulsating pussy, his face resting on your shoulder, peppering your neck with kisses. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he groaned, as he thrusted his hips erratically, continuously hitting your g spot, stimulating you all over again, driving you to the edge of insanity.

ʚ BAROU SHOEI ɞ

You were scrolling mindlessly through your phone, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. Barou hadn’t quite yet got off of the euphoria after winning the match against FC Barcha. As soon as he came back, he kissed you, while lifting you in the air. “Tonight we’re going to celebrate,” he promised you, then vanished to have a bath. Only the thought was enough to make you get wet. Leaving your phone on the bed, you stood up and picked up his jersey from the laundry basket. It was still kind of sweaty, but you didn’t mind as you threw it over your head.

You went to the mirror and looked at your reflection. You quite liked how large it was on you. You were so busy, posing in front of the mirror in his jersey that you failed to realise the king’s presence behind you. Your movements came to a sudden stop, your eyes locking with him through the mirror. He had just walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, hair down and his whole body dripping.

In any other case, Barou would have surely scolded you for wearing his sweaty jersey, as that was so unclean of you. But at that moment, he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He read “Barou 13” on your arched back and his body went in a rut, seeing how nicely your ass was popping out underneath his jersey. Before you could even think of moving a muscle, he found himself behind you, his hands groping your ass, as his lips kissed your neck.

“Look at you, dressing up formally for an audience with your king,” he whispered in your ear. Grabbing your chin, he turned you to him, crushing his lips on yours. He sneakily slid one of his arms underneath his jersey, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple hard, making you whine on his lips. Pulling away from his lips, you kissed his neck, collarbone, upper chest, reaching down his abs and stopping above the towel.

Sitting now on your knees, as if hypnotised by his aroused state, you threw the towel to the side and licked your lips, as your hand stroked his length. You peppered his shaft with kitten licks, lollying over that one angry vein that made him mad with pleasure, groaning as he looked down at you, his right hand ruffling your hair, before resting on the back of your head as you slowly took him in your mouth. His breath came out shaky, as your tongue swirled around his tip teasingly. He thought you looked oh fuck so irresistible that he couldn’t wait to slide his cock deep in your cunt.

“Fuck— Yes, that’s it, that’s it…” Barou breathed hard, as he cummed in your mouth. “Swallow it all up like the good girl you are.”

And you did. Pulling you up by your arm, he wiped away some of his cum from the corner of your lips, then slid his thumb into your mouth for you to lick it clean. With a swift move, he had you facing the mirror, as his bigger figure loomed over yours. “You’re dripping…” he cooed, biting your ear, as he rubbed his fingers on your bare folds. You squirmed, back arched and head hanging low, filthy moans echoing in the room. Your legs trembled as he wickedly thrusted his fingers in your cunt, the squelching sounds making you a babbling mess from how good he was making you feel.

His other arm wrapped around your waist and reached your clit, forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your skull and your head to fall back on his shoulders, as you literally cried from pleasure. You were moaning in his ear and yet Barou couldn’t care less if the last thing he ever heard was your honeyed voice and the sounds of his fingers fucking your cunt. Your body violently spasmed in his caging embrace, your orgasm hitting you hard, causing you to feel lightheaded.

You were panting hard, hands barely able to hold onto the mirror for some stability, when you felt his girth rubbing against you. With one sharp thrust of his hips, he was now stretching you out, amused at how your pussy was already clamping down around him; and he had only just put his cock inside you. He assumed a similar pace as before, fucking you hard, his balls slapping your ass, marking the spot red. “Look in the mirror,” he ordered, slapping your ass, making your body jolt. When you refused to oblige out of pure embarrassment, he choked your neck, forcing you to look at your reflections. “Look how well you take my cock.” He slapped your ass once more.

He bit down on your neck and sucked on your soft skin, leaving his marks all over you to prove that you were his. His hands held tightly onto your waist, forcefully slamming your hips against his, hitting deep inside at that sweet cursed spot that had you become an utter mess for him. Your cunt creamed around him as you orgasmed. Barou had to practically wrap an arm around you, otherwise you would have ended up on the floor. His hips continued pumping deep in you, as he was almost on the edge of release himself.

ʚ CHRIS PRINCE ɞ

Chris was one of the few men on earth who actually knew how to please a woman. And you felt lucky to be his, as you had the privilege of spending all those intimate moments with him. But if you were honest, you had but one tiny complaint; his excessive working hours. You wouldn’t usually mind, but shit it was your worst nightmare whenever you really needed him pounding into you and he was nowhere to be found, just like right now. Chris was running late at a photoshooting and you felt like losing your mind.

There you were, humping down one of the pillows on your bed, while wearing his jersey from last night’s game. You wanted to curse at him for not being there to take care of poor little you and yet you couldn’t really utter a single word, as your primary focus was to ride your pillow as best as you could to relieve yourself. And when that wasn’t enough for you, you lay back on the headboard, legs spread open and running your fingers on your drenched folds. You slid two fingers inside, pumping them in your pulsating cunt, moaning his name as you chased after that sweet high that had your mind turn completely blank.

“How kind of you to loosen up yourself for me,” Chris whispered in your ear. “I really liked the view.” He kissed your lips. He was stunned to say the least. When he rushed back home from the photoshooting, he wouldn’t have expected to find you touching yourself in his jersey. He was standing by the doorframe, watching how your pussy eagerly welcomed your fingers in. He couldn’t just sit there and yet he couldn’t bring himself to inform you of his arrival — not quite yet — as he wished to enjoy the show for as long as he could. He stripped himself and stroked his cock at how magnificent you were, blessing his ears with your moans.

Having you sit on your hands and knees, he hovered above you, sliding his cock between your tightly squeezed thighs, rubbing against your drenched cunt. One of his muscular arms was holding your body, while the other fondled your breast. “You couldn’t wait for me to return, could you?” he mocked you, as you moaned his name at the delightful friction. Abruptly, Chris shoved your face in the pillow, holding your hips in the air and thrusting his bulging cock inside your velvet walls.

“Fuck—” he groaned at how tight you felt around him. His eyes fell upon his jersey which you were still wearing, gazing lustfully at his name on it; Prince 7. You moaned at how hard he thrusted in you, hitting all the right spots only he knew that would make you the perfect babbling mumbling mess for him. “I must be the luckiest person on earth, having the pleasure of fucking a slut like you,” he cooed, his cock repeatedly hitting your g spot, having your whole body twitch in ecstasy.

You screamed in the pillow, while creaming on his cock, your filthy sounds filling the room. Chris would slap your ass and smirk at the red handprint he left there. He would kiss your neck and cover you in his marks, while telling you how good that little cunt of yours felt, as he viciously thrusted his cock inside. “Isn’t this what you wanted when you were touching yourself earlier?” he taunted, his voice breathless from the moment. “Isn’t this what you were imagining me do? Fuck you hard, just the way you like?”

It was better than your little dirty imaginations. You couldn’t even begin to compare the difference between your fantasies and the way he rearranged your guts inside you right then and there. Every time you thought you had experienced the absolute pleasure he could possibly give you, he proved you wrong. But you loved that and he knew. He knew how much you loved when he treated you as nothing but a slut, for that’s what you were; his slut. Chris was aware of the difference between your staminas, yet he never failed to push you a little over your limit every time, making you hold on for a few more minutes.

His cock was throbbing in your pussy, making you realise that he was close to his release. You were nearing your release as well. Your walls spasmed around him, coating him with your cum. He followed behind you a few minutes later, painting your insides white. And as usual he didn’t stop. No, he was only getting started. The night was young and your wearing his jersey made him feel a certain type of way, wanting to pound on you until he was sick of it. “C-Chris…” you called for him. “I-I can’t… It’s t-too much…” you whined.

But he completely ignored you, continuing to thrust into you at full throttle. You were overwhelmed, feeling as if your heart would give out from the overstimulation any moment now. His cum from his previous orgasms was dripping down your thighs, your abused cunt was at his mercy, begging for him to stop. “Oh fuck—” he groaned, as he cummed again, pulling out and observing in awe how pretty you looked, before pecking your lips.

ʚ MICHAEL KAISER ɞ

“How do I look?” you asked him, turning around for him to admire you in the gorgeous long dress he had bought for you.

“You look exquisite, darling,” Kaiser smiled at you.

He had just returned the day before from a trip abroad with the other players of Bastard München, as they had an overseas match. As usual, he completely annihilated his opponents. But it was a shame that you couldn’t go with him. Kaiser, who loved to spoil you, came back with a mountain of presents; perfumes, bags, jewellery, clothes, shoes. And now, he was sitting on the armchair next to his bed in his black with white details robe fresh out of a bath and watched you try on everything he had bought you. He was pleased noticing how utterly beautiful you looked in every single one of them.

And yet he thought that a different kind of attire would suit you even better. “Try this on for me, darling.” Hesitantly taking the jersey from his hand, you disappeared in his walk-in wardrobe to change. You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling his scent engulfing your body. Walking out, you approached him and slightly bent over, your eyes sparkling with anticipation for his answer to your question.

He didn’t even wait for you to ask your question, when he pulled you to sit on his lap, your thighs on either side of his. Kaiser was already eating you out with his eyes, as his hands caressed your body, before ultimately resting on your waist. He slipped them underneath his jersey, his fingers running across your ass, when he suddenly stopped. His gaze darkened, as he realised you weren’t wearing any panties, a spark of lust lurking somewhere deep in his eyes, as he slapped your ass, earning a whimpering moan from you. Fixing his glasses on top of the bridge of his nose, he rested his head on his arm. “Ride my thigh.”, he ordered.

You were frozen for a minute, still processing his words. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he stated in a strict tone, slapping you once more. Sitting properly on his thigh, you started humping yourself on it. Kaiser just comfortably sat there, watching you get yourself off on his thick thigh. He could feel your cunt becoming more and more drenched, curving a menacing smirk on his lips. You couldn’t even wish to deny the utter pleasure you got from the moment. And yet, you longed for his touch. It could be as simple as cupping your cheek and kissing your lips. Or it could be as bad as grabbing your waist and making you ride him himself.

However, Kaiser did no such thing. “I’m not going to touch you at all,” he stated to clear any misunderstanding from your part. You whined at his statement, yet continued humping yourself on his thigh. Your mouth was hanging open, as moan after moan rolled off your tongue. You felt the oxygen in your lungs decreasing, as you were feeling overwhelmed. He stayed true to his word. He didn’t touch you, not even once. He didn’t even bounce his leg to add some friction. And that drove you over the edge of insanity, feeling as if you could lose your mind any minute now.

“Don’t slow down now,” he taunted. “I know you’re close. I can feel your cunt pulsing.”

He was right, you were indeed about to cum. But your strength betrayed you. You felt numb after only humping yourself on his thigh. “Kaiser… Please… Touch me…” you whined, hoping that he might take some pity in the pathetic little you and drive you to your orgasm. “Only you can make me cum…”

Ridding himself of his robe, he lifted you up and threw you on the bed. Taking his glasses off, which he left on the nightstand, he climbed up, hovering above you, looking down at you as a predator looking at its prey. He attacked your neck, biting your flesh hard, making you scream, whilst his left hand slid down your body and came in contact with your pussy. He rubbed his fingers on your drenched folds, then violently thrusted them inside, making your breath hitch and your back arch. Within minutes, you cummed on his fingers, hearing him evilly laugh at you.

He didn’t give you time to take a break. He rolled you on your stomach, spread your legs and slightly lifted your hips up. He stroked his throbbing cock a few times, before aligning himself with your hole. “Wait, Kaiser—” He thrusted hard into your cunt that gladly swallowed him up. His thrusts were violent, as he almost completely pulled out, before slamming forcefully himself back in. He was holding tightly onto your right bicep and the back of your throat, holding you down to take all of him.

Kaiser 10; if you wanted to blame someone — or more accurately something — that would be his jersey. The moment you walked out wearing his large jersey that barely covered your ass, he thought you were the most breathtaking woman in the world. However, his possessiveness soon enough usurped control over his body and here we are now. You were screaming on top of your lungs, tightly holding onto the bed sheets, as Kaiser ravaged your cunt.

You could feel your ass burning red from his aggressive thrusts and yet you felt so good, you couldn’t stop coating him with your slick. He noticed you crying and couldn’t help but chuckle, as he leant down and kissed a tear away. You were whimpering, asking him — no, begging him to be a tiny bit gentler. And as expected, he outrageously condemned your pleas, whilst sucking one of his bite marks on your neck. “No matter what you say, you’re loving this. Your cunt is tightened perfectly around me, my little whore,” he cooed in your ear.

He made you cum again and again, to the point where you couldn’t think a single thing anymore. Your body reacted instinctively to him. You were but a whiny moaning mess, mumbling incoherent words along with his name. Kaiser couldn’t have been more pleased with this outcome. “Fuck—” he moaned, as he thrust one more time and orgasmed, his head falling back, cumming deep in your abused cunt.

4K notes · View notes

eilidh-eternal · 4 months

Text

Thinking about tattoo artist Ghost who notices you in the studio quite often. Who recognizes the signs of using tattoos as a thinly veiled coping mechanism and can’t help but think that there’s a… better… way for you to cope. Ways that he can help you with. Things he can teach you that don’t involve needles but would still leave his mark on your skin.

You need him.

You’ve just finished up your session with Soap, finalizing the payment with him at the front desk, when you feel a looming presence at your back.

Ghost.

“Um… hi?” He’s the only one of them you haven’t sat for. Over the last few months you’d worked your way through nearly the entire staff at the studio, amassing a collection of new pieces like a kid collecting happy meal toys in the summer–often and to the detriment of your bank account.

“You're with me next week.” His tone brooks no argument. “Soap, what do I have open next Saturday?”

“I can’t, I–”

“Ye’re open from two to close.”

“Book her. The full day.”

“What?!”

“Got somethin’ special drawn up that I’ve been holdin’ onto. We can make adjustments when you come in. See ya next weekend.“ He saunters back to his station without another word.

Well.

Despite the odd nature of the encounter, you go. ‘Just to see what he’s drawn up,’ you tell yourself. In actuality, you’d had a hell of a week and were itching, chomping at the bit, for the bite of a needle by the time the appointment came around. And damn him it’s good. Really fucking good. Fits your aesthetic perfectly and his suggested placement isn’t far off from where you would have chosen yourself.

Fuck it.

You let him do it. Follow him down the hall to the private room, nod when he tells you to get comfortable and that he just needs to grab one more thing from his station and he’ll be right back.

You’re stripped down to your panties and the oversized hoodie you brought in, big enough to drape and maneuver out of his way while maintaining a bit of modesty, when he comes back.

“You bring water? Somethin’ to eat during breaks?” he asks as he sets a water bottle of his own on the counter. You nod and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Need words, sweetheart.”

“Yes. I did.”

Not the first time an artist has asked the question, but his insistence on a verbal answer is a curious deviation from your typical experience here. Soap certainly didn’t wait for your answer before he had his arm slung over your ass to ‘steady himself’ while needling a trail of stars down your spine a few weeks ago.

“Alright, let’s get you settled then. Down.’ He presses on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the reclined chair. “We doin it on the left or right?” His hands linger on either side of you, bent at the waist to hover over your frame.

“Uh, you said right would look best… with the other pieces? So um… yeah. The right.”

There’s a flicker behind the richness of his eyes. Something dark and smoky the seeps into the irises.

“Lookit you. Listen real well, don’t ya?”

What?

He leaves you with mere milliseconds to process. “On your side. Let’s get you stenciled.” His hand trails along your ribs, glides over the bulky fabric of the hoodie and tugs. Pulls at the pocket on the front to get you moving. “Good girl,” he purrs when you comply, shifting onto your left side and folding your arms close to your chest. “Up.” He helps you lift your head and slides a pillow under you. Does the same with your knees, pillow pressed between them to stabilize your hips.

“Thanks…” It comes out in a dazed mumble and he simply hums, as if all of this is… normal.

It isn’t. You know that. Nothing about him says normal.

The mask. His insistence—no, his demand—that you book a session with him. The way his tone brooks no argument or excuse. How some baser instinct tells you to heed his demands. Traitorous fluttering of nerves in your stomach and the heat pooling between your legs.

The black nitrile gloves clinging to his hands like a second skin are cold against your leg. Makes you twitch when long fingers push the hem of your hoodie over your hip and hook underneath the narrow waistband of your thong. “Just moving this up a bit,” he says and pulls it up to your waist, elastic pulling taught against the crease of your thigh and digging into the skin. Pressing against your pulsing core.

The cleanser is even colder and comes with no warning, but the warmth of him has begun to bleed through his gloves. Melts into your skin as he cleans his canvas and runs a hand over your hip in appraisal.

“Got a little fuzz,” he says more to himself than you, thumb swiping over the fine dusting of hair. The muscles in your back tense in an effort to fight against the shudder threatening to snake down your spine, skin burning beneath the massive hand that lingers on your thigh.

He’s precise about it, removing the hair with slow and even passes of the razor and going back over the area with disinfectant. “Doin’ so good for me, layin’ nice an’ still while I shave ya. Bet ya sit like a champ.”

Your eyes go wide, lips falling open in a silent gasp, and you’re thankful he’s currently bent over your hip and can’t see the shock written plain as day on your face. You blink. Force your brows to lower and snap your mouth shut before you say something stupid like ‘thank you.’

The stencil goes on in silence but you can feel his eyes on you. More precisely, on your face. Curious and observant. You’re so focused on not looking at him that you don’t hear him rise from his stool. Don’t register that he’s moved until he’s leaning over you and curling a finger under your chin to turn your face up towards the ceiling. Towards him.

“There she is. Let’s have a look, yeah?”

Why does he want to look at—?

The stencil. He means the stencil. He wants you to look at the stencil.

“Okay…”

He drops your chin but makes no move to pull away from you as you sit up on your elbows, twisting to get a look at the purple carbon adorning your hip and thigh. You straighten out your leg, move it this way and that, looking for any odd stretching or scrunching.

“It looks good. I like it there. It um… You were right. About it being a good fit.” When you look up at him he’s already staring down at you, eyes trained on your face rather than the stencil with a dark, inky quality to them. Pupils expanding and swallowing up the light in the room.

“Course. Knew I’d be right about ya.”

You blink and it’s gone. No more wisps of smoke swirling in amber coals. The heat in them abated by whatever he sees in you.

You have no idea what he sees in you.

He does, however, give you a reprieve when he straightens and moves to the counter to begin mixing ink while the stencil dries.

The air around you feels colder when you settle back on your side, sapped of your warmth by small touches and lingering glances. Like he’s purposely stoked a fire in you just to take from and warm himself with.

“Seen you ‘round here a lot. Got quite the collection.”

It doesn’t sound like a question, and you’re not sure if he’s expecting an answer, but you give him one anyway. Feels… wrong, not to.

“I like the work you guys do.” You’ve sat for all of them. John. Gaz. Soap. And now Ghost. Have their marks inked all over your body.

“That the only thing you like?” The broad expanse of his back is the only thing you can see, but you have a feeling that if you could see the sliver of his face visible behind the mask he’d have that same even stare he always has on the studio floor.

“Gaz is nice to look at,” you offer, and hear him huff behind you.

“That so?”

“Soap has steady hands. They wander a bit, but his lines are the best I’ve seen. Tit for tat I suppose.”

“And Cap?”

“Who? Oh, you mean John?”

“The old man ‘imself.” He turns then, arranging the ink on the rolling tray between the two of you, and you catch the dart of his eyes in your direction before they shift back to his station. “He doesn’t normally do the kinda work pretty things like you come looking for.”

“I- um…” He keeps tripping you up. Making you stumble over the words in your head with compliments and praise and firm hands and–

“You like the pain.” Your gaze jerks towards him, tracks his movements as he lowers himself down onto the stool. “Cap’s got a heavy hand,” he clarifies, but it’s too late for excuses. Your reaction only confirms what he already knows.

“That– I don’t… I don’t like it. It just…” His eyes are locked on you, simmering with something in the molten depths of them that reels you in against your will. Compels you to spill secret truths to a stranger. “It makes everything else quiet, for a little while…” You sink your teeth into your lower lip with the admission, eyes slipping away from the intensity burning in his to settle on a fleck in the wood grain of the cabinet.

Silence stretches long and thick between the two of you, the only sound in the room coming from the speakers spilling music out of the ceiling and the little clicks and taps of him preparing the various tips and needles for his machine. The wheels on his chair whine as they roll forward, forcing him into your field of vision once more.

Warmth floods your cheeks, rushes up your neck to your ears in a simmering wave of vulnerability, and you can't look away when he leans down to peer into your face. “There's other ways to make it quiet, ya know.”

You toy with the drawstring of your hood, debating how pathetic you’d look if you pulled it over your face and hid from his probing gaze the rest of this session.

“Stop.” Your fingers freeze. The sternness of his tone has your eyes flicking cautiously back to his, apology ready on your tongue, expecting further reprimand. “You’re thinkin’ too much.”

Yes.

“That what you need, hm? Someone to make that pretty head take a break for a little while?”

Yes please. You offer him a timid nod.

“What’d I say about that?” he chides, folding his arms over his knees.

Your mouth feels dry, stuffed with cotton, and tongue heavy on its floor. “Sorry.” It comes out scratchy and an octave too high. Too needy.

“‘S okay, sweetheart. You’re still learning the rules, but we’ll get ya there,” he croons, hand coming up to chuck you under your chin.

“Rules?”

“Yes sweetheart, rules. You only have two for today. When I ask you a question, I need a verbal answer. Can you do that for me?” His voice carries with authority and his eyes remain fixed on yours, awaiting your acknowledgement.

“Yes.” A touch smoother this time, despite the tightness lingering in your throat.

“Good girl,” he purrs, petting a hand over your hair as he straightens and shifts further down towards your hip, pulling his tray along with him. You hear the buzzing of the machine when he begins fine tuning, testing the speed and picking up ink.

“Your second rule,” he says as he leans forward, big, gloved hand coming to rest on your waist and the other hovering over the stencil, needle poised just above your skin. “If ya need a break, tell me. And–” He gives your waist a firm squeeze. “—squeeze this arm if ya need more. Got it?”

It takes a moment for the full weight of what he’s offering to sink in, for neurons and synapses to catch up with the realization of it.

“Got it.” You watch the mask pull taught over his mouth. He’s smiling.

“So good for me already,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your waist a fraction. “Let’s get started on your ink then, yeah?”

The first pass of the needle traces a line on the outside of your thigh, a long, curved section, and already you can feel the quiet creeping in amid the bite of broken skin and the buzz of his warm hands pressed against you.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

1K notes · View notes