#they are in perfect position to fall in love

[fairy-hub]

“𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! Sukuna is mean, Monster fucking, breaking and entering (reader is aware he is coming), somnophilia, choking, hints of masturbation, choking, manhandling, huge huge huge size kink that swings both ways, let’s say Sukuna’s monster cock can fit cause I say so, light pain kink, degradation/taunting/hints of praise if you count being called a slut in bed rewarding (which I do but to each their own), pussy slapping, pinching your clit once, mentions of a toy that he licks once to see if it still tastes like you what can I say he is a nasty fucker,

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! ❛ there’s so many things i wanna do to you.❜ + sukuna

𝟏𝟑𝐤 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Fey; monster fucking with sukuna always hits just right but when you add consented to somnophilia + breaking and entering

Sukuna slowly pulls your curtains back, the full moon illuminates you bedroom well enough. He grabs your blanket and gentle peels it off, bunching it at the bottom of the bed.

The inhuman toy cock next to you catching his attention. It’s thick but yet it still pales in comparison to his’ own. It’s hot that you have something like this to occupy your time when he is away.

Did he ruin normal men for you? He hopes so. He wants your sloppy cunt to crave his inhuman cocks.

Sukuna picks the toy up and licks it, tasting your sweet cunt. Swirling his tongue around it’s tip. He considers triple stuffing you, but which hole should he shove it in?

You roll onto your back and stretch your arm out, seeking your blanket. Promptly giving up when you didn’t immediately find it. You’re in the perfect position for Sukuna to play with you.

Making quick work of his sweats, his shirt having ripped off when he transformed before he broke into your house. Something you’ll have to pay for.

He carefully climbs onto the bed, towering over you, giving him a thrill. Comparing himself to you, you’re so small, weak and vulnerable, perfect for manhandling and stuffing his cock into.

Whimpering in your sleep, “Sukunnn..” Your soft cunt quivers around his thick fingers. You’re so wet, soft and tight around him. Licking your soft clit with his hand’s tongue. Whilst slowly spreading your legs apart.

You furrow your brows, and slowly open your eyes. “Whaaann?” He bites your thigh when you try to close your legs. Using his weight to force your smaller, soft body into a mating press.

He accusing you, “You’re a brat, there wasn’t a window or door unlocked for me.” Roughly smacking your soft wet cunt.

You whine, “I know!” Another harsh slap, and he glided his thick fingers in, licking your clit. You mewl, “Nnn you can pick the lock!” His fingers and tongue is magical on your cunt. Your thighs trembles, toes curl and your cunt is soaking his hand.

Sukuna looks down at you, “You got tighter, does it turn you on thinking about me wanting your sloppy cunt so badly I’d break in for it?”

He glides his fingers out, smacking your cunt whilst crooning. “What a depraved slut!” Pinching your soft clit, smirking when you cry. You’re so helpless in his large hands, it’s so easy for him to manhandle and fuck you as he pleases.

“I’m your depraved monster cock loving slut.” Sukuna stuffs his hand’s thick tongue in your soft aching cunt. Squeezing your throat, fondling your breast, switches between sucking and biting.

He fondles your soft breasts, sucking on your nipple. “Let’s see how much my cum my cocksleeve can take before falling back asleep.” Replacing his soft tongue with his long thick fingers stretching your cunt out.

He insists, “There are so many things I wanna do to you.” He loosens his grasp on your throat. “How long do you think you can keep me entertained for?” Gliding his fingers out, smearing your slick on his cock.

“I dunno I’m sleepy, but you can keep fucking me even after I pass out.” He’s monstrous, towering over you, nudging your soft cunt with his fat cock.

You winch when he rolls his hips forward, giving you just the tip. His cock above it, rubs your soft clit. You whine reaching down, splaying your hands above his stomach’s mouth. He grabs your wrist, raising it above your head tightening his grasp around your neck.

Sukuna lifts you bed, sinking you down on his cock. Your head reaches his chest, tilting your head back Sukuna makes you look up at him.

He sneers ,“Since you already had fun without me I don’t have to stretch you out right? I can have my fun, use your soft little cunt how I want.” Pressing your smaller body to the wall, you’re so helpless.

He smirks, “This is the kind of perverted shit that gets a monster fucker like you off isn’t it?” Sukuna is beating your pussy up, making her squelch and your toes curl.

You clench your cunt and his smirk drops with a loud groan. “Stupid little brat with your dumb little cunt.”

all works

#jjk smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna ryoumen #sukuna ryoumen x y/n #sukuna ryoumen x you #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut

[nereidprinc3ss]

Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

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

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes. 

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening. 

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip. 

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed. 

“Why not?” 

“’Cause I want you to be awake.” 

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks. 

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment. 

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes. 

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. 

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling. 

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face.  “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair. 

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously. 

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone. 

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes. 

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss. 

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe. 

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.  

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating. 

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily. 

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them. 

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch. 

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips. 

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills. 

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you. 

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already. 

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine. 

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin. 

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying. 

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom. 

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you. 

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off. 

Maybe even especially then. 

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth. 

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out. 

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp. 

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic. 

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit. 

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more. 

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back. 

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon. 

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation. 

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense. 

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name. 

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.  

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system. 

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again. 

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin. 

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows. 

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts. 

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once. 

“Handles! Duh!”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic

[heartfullofleeches]

fake pizza boy yan developed a concerning taste for seeing darling eating his cum after that first encounter and starts bringing a variety of menu items with “ranch dips” and “vanilla shakes”. plenty of visual material to keep the supply up for his next “delivery” and he is definitely not spiraling into crisis just because the only thing that gets him hard for his other shoots is the mental image of darling stuffed full of his—

(Slapping these two together since they have a similar premise)

Yan Adult Film Star Pizza Boy + Reader [18+]

[Masterbation, Food Play]

-

"Come on..... Come on....."

Twenty minutes till deadline. Since the beginning of his career he stuck to a strict schedule. A simple routine to get the ball rolling as he dipped his toes in the new venture. Now that he had so many eyes on him and his content, Brie was able to take more breaks in between filming, but at this point it had been almost two weeks since he posted anything at all.

He tried everything. His hands. Toys. Videos. Brie even thought about buying pills at one point, but gaining an erection wasn't the hard part of his situation. His viewers were into a lot of things - but if there was one thing that really got their wallets open for him it was when he painted the nearest surface to him with a heavy load of his release. His donations would be flooded with comments from his hands how they wished to be his desk or pillows - or for the opportunity to lick said object clean.

Kind of like how you licked your fingers clean on the day he first met you.

The brief flicker of your face in his mind made his aching length jump in his spit stained palm. The encounter he had with you was all that he could think about anymore. He was obssessed - The innocent confusion as you opened the front door, the genuine gratitude in your expression as you handed him some cash for all his troubles and the free meal. Brie would pay anything to see you sample his sauce again. The way your eyes lit up as the flavor registered on your tongue-

"Mmh....."

What he wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around him. If you liked what he gave you so much what better than to get it straight from the source, right? The slick sound of friction grows louder as his hand moves quicker - eyes scanning every corner of his room for more fuel for his fantasies. He wish he had kept the photos he found of you online on screen, but he feared loosing that knot of pleasure twisting at his insides if he took his focus off the task at hand for any reason.

His eyes fall on the drink cup from the takeout he picked up earlier in the day. A boring Styrofoam cup with no clear ties to any restaurant would be the perfect container to bring you another item off the menu. The peach tea he had earlier would be a dead giveaway for any tampering. He needed something thicker, ideally with a creamy texture.

A milkshake.

Who wouldn't enjoy a nice, refreshing shake after pizza? You surely had to be thirsty after eating all that bread. Brie fisted his cock to the image of you on your knees beneath his table - hands gripping the meat of his thighs as your mouth hung open awaiting your treat. You'd look so cute under him like that - his fans would absolutely love you-

A surge of jealousy strengths his grip. Nobody should get to see you like that but him. Those perverts could fotk over their life savings and it wouldn't be enough for Brie to share you with them. Maybe the occasional stream with the two of you couldn't hurt - your face held against his pelvis as he stuffed that pretty throat so nobody could see anything but his cock slipping past your perfect lips.

"Ah.... Y/n...." It's the first time he's said your name. The first time he's let his imagination run this wild. He makes a mental note to cut it out during editingthe. Brie swipes the camera off his desk, angling it better towards his lap and the empty floor below him. He then makes a grab for the empty cup - popping off its lid as he positions the container between his legs. They tremble - barely holding into the styrofoam without crushing it as Brie spits - whimpering as he coats his girth in another layer of his saliva. For a fleeting moment he can perfectly picturing the warmth dripping down his cock as your own - and that's all it takes for him to come undone.

Brie cries out your name with a shakey breath, clutching the edge of his desk for stability as his upper body lurches forward, pouring ropes upon ropes of his spend in the general direction of the cup. It's too much- With it being so long since the last time he came, this hard - tears stab at the corners of his eyes as he shutters, nails peeling chipping at the polished finish of his desk. He misses his intended target at first go, thighs glistening with cum as he hurriedly fixes the cup to catch the remainder.

Brie takes a long pause to catch his breath before wipping off his camera lense, posing with a shakey thumb up as he holds the cup for all to see.

"Shake's ready- Guess it's about time I make another delivery~"

-

"And here you are, one milkshake on the house. We're always trying out new things in the kitchen and like to reward our loyal customers by letting them sample new items first."

Swirling your straw through the thick slurry, you take another sip with a satisfied hum. "Hm. You said this was salted caramel, yeah?"

The delivery boy snaps back to attention - seemingly lost in thought as you gulp down the shake. "Y-yes. That's right- Your thoughts?"

"It's pretty damn good, actually. Been getting kinda hot these past couple of nights so this is just what I needed right about now."

Brie bites down hard on his bottom lip as you place the cool styrofoam against your bare neck, condensation running down to your chest.

"I forgot to ask the last time I can, but my boss finds it really helpful if I get some pictures of satisfied customers to put up. Would you mind if I took a couple of you right now?"

#Brie my oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere smut #suggestive #yandere male

[sreidisms]

Stress Release

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!GN!Reader

Summary: Spencer needs you to take care of him after a rough couple of days at his new job.

Genre: smut

Word Count: 861

Warnings: pegging, reader is GN but uses a strap-on so?? afab implied, slight cum play, slight overstimulation if you squint, many many pet names (sweet boy, love, sweetheart, darling, baby).

A/N: I needed something to get my creative juices going because I've been in the worst writing slump of my life, so enjoy this quick little blurb of the cutest, subbiest Spence <3

Spencer was splayed out on your shared bed, his previously-gelled hair tousled and spread out on the fresh sheets like a halo around his head, however juxtaposing the current situation he was in - it was far from holy as your strap-on was gliding in and out of him with lewd ease.

The excuse from your boyfriend was that he needed the stress fucked out of him - maybe not put as crudely as that, but you knew what words were floating through his head. Paperwork, cases, and meeting people had been too much for the new agent, and he just wanted you to fuck him dumb for a while, for positive psychological purposes only obviously.

“How’s that feeling, sweet boy?” you cooed, pressing his knees further back to get the right angle to hit that lovely spot deep inside his abdomen.

“Mmm … g-great,” he mumbled, licking his lips and letting his mouth fall open once again.

“That’s good, Spence. Keep your legs like this, please, love.” Your hands moved to hold his slender and naked waist, thus providing you with the perfect leverage to smoothly thrust the thick dildo into his tight hole.

Pegging had been a recent addition to your sex life and you had been surprised when Spencer brought it up one day, timidly explaining how he had stumbled upon it online and wanted to try it out; little did he know, you had been dreaming about that scenario for months. With gentle steps and a good amount of research, it soon became a favourite activity for the both of you.

Spencer didn’t know why he liked it so much. It was probably a mix of being able to let go for once in his life and let someone else do the taking care of, he reflected. And besides, it was nice to not have to think about the logistics of something for a change.

For you? Oh, you loved watching your bright and loquacious genius be reduced to whines and pants every once in a while. It wasn’t a secret that he overworked himself and so you wanted to allow him the space to lay back when needed.

Now, one of your hands had found its way to your boyfriend’s throbbing cock, setting a relentless pace, up and down to give him more relief.

“O-Oh fuck,” he whined as he grasped your arm with a tight grip. “Don’t … stop, d-don’t …” His sentence was cut off when your thumb stroked the underside of his tip, forcing out a guttural moan and a harsh thud as his head hit the mattress again.

You hushed him. “You don’t have to worry, darling. Just relax, I’m here to make you feel good.” He nodded frantically, sucking his lower lip with his teeth to stifle the noises that were begging to escape his mouth.

As much as it was embarrassing, you were sure that your neighbours on the floor beneath your apartment could hear the never-ending squeak of the bed frame grinding against the linoleum, but you couldn’t care less in that moment. Your mind was set on bringing the highest of pleasures to your boyfriend as you skilfully hit his prostate over and over, each push of your hips punctuated with a moan from Spencer.

“P-Please …”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you asked worriedly, quickly cupping his cheek with the hand that was resting on his waist. “Are you close?”

“Uh huh … please, please l-let me …” The sentence died at the back of his throat.

“Go ahead, you’ve been such a good boy, you deserve this.”

You stopped your actions for a second and swiftly pulled him closer to you from his legs, accidentally ramming the tip of your strap-on painfully hard against his sweet spot. It wasn’t your intention but cum gently dribbled down his flushed dick as he panted.

In an effort to not leave him with a ruined orgasm, you planted your fists on the bed, Spencer’s angelic face between them, and you hiked your knees up onto the edge of the bed before picking up the pace once more and driving the fake cock deep inside him.

“O-Oh …” The man was too far gone drowning in pleasure to have the energy to make noise, eyes screwed shut and fingers fisting the sheets.

“There we go,” you purred. The feeling of more cum being fucked out of him spread across both of your stomachs, creating the most delicious mess you could imagine.

You eventually took pity on him and slowed down your hips and teasingly pressed on his legs to spread them further, pulling back to see his weeping length softening against his porcelain skin.

“You did so well, Spence.” You took your pointer finger and spread the viscous liquid across his tummy, and then slowly traced it to the head of his cock. His hips bucked forward and he hissed.

“D-Don’t … sensitive.”

You giggled and leaned down to give him a soft kiss. “Sorry, baby, you’re so easy to tease.”

Spencer’s eyes opened to meet your loving expression and he smiled in return. “I love you.”

“I love you too, always.”

I hope you enjoyed this! I promise I'll get to writing all the suggestions in my inbox eventually, it means so much to me that people show interest :) thank you

#writingreidisms #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #mgg smut #spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #gn reader #sub spencer reid #sub!spencer

[grandline-fics]

The Little Things

DESCRIPTION: The little things they love with you 

WARNINGS: just fluff

CHARACTERS: Law, Kid, Killer

WORDS: 734

A/N: Something small and slightly different that came to mind. Hope you all like it and have a good day. Thank you as always for reading

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

LAW

It might seem a little vain but Law loves how drawn you are to his tattoos. He loves how when he walks hand in hand with you, your thumb will always rub lightly against the inked pattern of his skin. You’re almost unconscious of it and he’s always silently expecting it and without fail you do it while looking around the new sights of the island the crew are exploring. It doesn’t stop at that though. When you’re sitting or lounging beside him in your more relaxed moments on the sub, depending on your position you have to have your hand on his arm or his chest with your fingers following the lines without even needing to be looking at them. Law finds it amusing how through muscle memory alone your hands just know the pathway of the ink perfectly. 

Law loves how you accept his obsession with needing to work longer hours to a point. After becoming a couple you both reached an understanding that on the nights he’s drawn into his journals he has to read aloud in bed and even if you don’t fully understand the medical and other scientific terminologies, the sound of his voice will always lull you over to sleep. Finally when Law feels his eyes begin to grow heavy, he pulls you close and loves to lay his head close to your chest, his most treasured sound of your steady and strong heartbeat comforts him and is the final thing he needs to fall into a peaceful and restful sleep. 

KID

Kid’s a simple man, one of the things he loves with you is when you help with his appearance. While he remains relaxed and perched on the edge of the bed you stand between his legs, perfectly slotted and almost pressed against his chest as you carefully apply his eyeliner and lipstick with a careful and steady hand. Kid loves the simple yet intimate moment each and every morning, trusting you completely while also getting to indulge in having his hand firmly against your hip, the appearance of keeping you steady when really you both know he can’t help but have his hands on you. Kid loves the complete focus in your eyes as you do this task, taking it seriously. He only closes his eyes when you’ve finished by pressing a gentle kiss against the scar.

More than anything Kid loves how at ease and adaptable you are in his larger than life presence. Despite him being the taller and louder in the pair you compliment him so well that it’s effortless. He doesn’t need to quiet who he is, you just accept him and match his energy in your own way. Whether he’s brawling in a bar or working on something in his workshop, you’re there as his constant support. He loves how easily you slotted into his life and made him realise just how much he needed someone like you to stabilise his chaotic nature without taming it. 

KILLER

With Killer he loves the ability to communicate with you without needing to say much if anything at all. You’re both so comfortable and in sync with one another that you know what the other needs. One such thing being you always know when Killer needs the space to breathe and relieve the building pressure against his head. He wears his mask for a reason but constantly wearing it does cause a tightness and pain. You always know when Killer is reaching his limit and find a way to sneak him away, letting him pull off his mask and lay his head down in your lap and immediately feel your fingers sink into his hair and massage the tension away from his skull. 

Killer loves having you with him in the kitchen. The two of you cook together in perfect harmony while also working together on making new recipes. Anything that Killer comes up with you’re always the first to taste test, giving him the only opinion he values while knowing that you will be completely honest and will offer helpful criticism or suggestions that will always help him improve his cooking. Killer also loves how you’re also as protective of the space as he is, always quick to kick out any of the crew when they try to sneak food before it’s ready, especially when it’s Kid that needs to be reprimanded. 

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #kid x reader #kid x you #killer x you #killer x reader #one piece scenario #one piece fic #one piece x you #one piece fanfiction #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law #one piece law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d water law #eustass kid x reader #eustass x reader #eustass kid x you #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid #one piece eustass #one piece killer #killer one piece #massacre soldier killer #massacre soldier one piece

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: i liked writing this, its kinda angsty btw. i hope dear anon who requested this likes it!! sorry that it took this long heh ;)

if you had to describe geto suguru with one word it would be ethereal.

his borderline unreal appearance — long raven locks gliding on the delicate arch of his back, sharp yet inviting features of his beautiful face, his shoulders that are as broad as ocean compared to the elegant curve of his waist. his thin, blueish pink lips that are usually a little upturned, high cheekbones revealing his slightly hollow cheeks.

his gorgeous purple orbs that mixed everything else make him the most beautiful man alive.

and as you watch him talking with a unfamiliar woman from across the room; finger gripping the leg of your champagne glass tightly while your other hand’s fingers dig into the meat of your upper arm to calm down your nerves, you still can’t bring yourself to be angry at the woman.

can’t bring yourself to be angry at the way she looks up at him with hooded eyes, hand holding onto his forearm whenever she laughs exaggeratedly at something he says, the way she stands a little too close for you liking and he doesn’t seem to be minding the invasion of his personal space. can’t bring yourself to be angry at the way his eyes don’t leave her face and he looks at her and the way he leans in to hear her better.

you’ve known geto for longer than he’s known you. before you exceeded from your position as a research associate to the head research analyst, before you officially met with geto suguru, ceo gojo satoru’s head assistant(which basically made him his partner), you had the fill of the gossip going around the workplace about how geto along with gojo was the biggest player.

when you started dating geto suguru, all of the chatter you used to listen to faded into the background because not only he was beautiful, but he was also very charming. it didn’t take long for you to fall in love with him and accept that he’s fallen in love with you too. how could you not?

but the ugly roots of self-consciousness always moved further inside you whenever you remembered his past conquests or saw geto being himself with other women.

that’s the thing; that’s just the way geto is. his voice is always smooth with a playful lilt in it, his eyes are always attentive and flirtatiously droopy, he always looks down at people, literally, and that works wonders whether he wants to charm a person or disarm them. that’s part of his job, too.

geto suguru is the embodiment of perfection and you wonder why you’re even considered to be his partner, your perfection fading away as soon as you feel like you belong to suguru, but he doesn’t belong to you.

but suguru is not stupid. he knows about everything; all the rumors, all the facts, everything said about himself and what may trigger those nasty thoughts in your pretty little head. he knows he has a face that is more than likeable and knows how to use all of his assets, which he does constantly since his work requires a lot of talking. and a lot of persuading.

geto also knows — that alone isn’t enough to calm you down and push away the string of mean thoughts occurring every time, so he tries to get to you differently. break you apart slowly and then pick you back up, all by himself.

gazing at you with love laced through his narrow eyes while his arms wrap around your seemingly tiny body that always tries to avoid him whenever your intrusive thoughts take over your great mind. saying your name with a tone as sweet as honey, his touch as soft as a feather, his mind set only on making you feel loved and comforted so you forget everything and give him your precious smile.

and it works wonders because suguru may have been a different person before he met you and decided to choose you as his one and only, and some parts of him maybe stayed till this day, but he won’t hesitate to show you that his love for you is eternal while everything else is temporary over and over again, until you get it and even after that.

#— miya writes! #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #jjk suguru #jjk x you

[heauxvibez]

Gentle

warning: angst, mentions of depression/anxiety, fluff. Enjoy!

It had been days since Joe lost his match. It meant he could finally be home, taking a break from the WWE's busy schedule. You were thrilled to have him home, just the two of you for a while. Joe was excited too, or so he thought.

He released a huge sigh of relief when he was told prematurely about the outcome of his match with Cody. He loved work but also missed being home with you, and the flexibility to do what he wanted without having to make huge shifts around his work schedule. The guilt that constantly ate at him for missing milestones in your life would finally be put to ease. Your promotion at your job, your birthday, buying your first brand new car with your hard-earned money, all things he missed out on celebrating due to his work.

But as time went by, you noticed a change in him. His energy shifted dramatically. He became quieter, answering with short sentences and avoiding conversations. He barely ate, only managing to do so when taking his medication.

You had to decline many invitations because he wasn't up for crowds; they made him anxious. The bedroom became his refuge, all he wanted to do was lay in bed and rot. It was starting to worry you.

Joe himself didn't understand what was happening. He wanted to shake off this feeling, but it clung to him stubbornly. It was like he'd forgotten his place in life, his roles as your husband, friend, and son. He felt worthless. As the Tribal Chief he knew everything, life was in his control, he was in control. Nothing could phase him when he was his alternative self. His bronze skin was as thick as ever.

But as Joe, he was vulnerable and soft, his hands could barely grasp the concept of life outside of the arena. He believed that he'd let everyone down by missing important moments, especially you. Despite your support and pride in him, he couldn't shake the feeling of being resented. His anxiety whispered that you all hated him, leading him to isolate himself in the room. He thought that by avoiding interaction, he'd be less of a burden.

You were left in the dark, unsure of what was happening with him. You didn't want to jump to conclusions, but you couldn't ignore the signs of either depression or anxiety. It was a delicate situation; you didn't want to say or ask the wrong thing and risk pushing him away. You were at a loss for how to approach him without causing further distress.

"Babe..", you called out as you cracked open the door. Your head peaked in to reveal him bundled under the sheets.

"Hmm?" he hummed back, avoiding looking in your direction.

The room matched his mood—dark and cold. You approached him cautiously, arms crossed before quickly relaxing them, not wanting to convey that you were mad or upset in any way. Squatting beside the bed, you met his gaze. His hair was tousled, covering his face like cobwebs, his eyes red, lips downturned. He looked miserable.

He almost melted at the feel of your fingers feathering through the knots of his tangled beard. He hadn't groomed himself in days, so he looked a mess. But to you he still looked like perfection, just needed a little love. You searched his face, to him it felt like judgment, but for you...you were just looking for any sign of your loving husband.

"You okay?"

That question alone almost unraveled him. His eyes shut tightly, becoming a dam for the flood of tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. He covered his face with his hand when he could no longer contain the wave of emotions. He shook his head, answering your question.

"Oh baby, I'm sorry. I'm sorry", you pleaded. You didn't know what to expect. You thought it would take a while to break through his tough exterior.

Not wanting to overwhelm him, you hadn't moved. You stayed squatted in your position, stroking the side of his face that wasn't covered by his huge hand.

"Talk to me, baby. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong," your voice, soft and gentle, began to ease the tension. It seemed to pull him back from the brink of a panic attack.

"Breathe, just talk," you urged. He took a deep breath, his exhale brushing against your face. His hand fell away from his face, revealing tear-streaked cheeks and watery eyes. You met his gaze, your own eyes welling up with empathy. You fought back your tears, wanting him to feel safe expressing himself.

Joe tried to speak but faltered, closing his lips and shaking his head. He was at a loss for words, unsure of how to begin.

You let out a gentle sigh as you brushed his greasy hair away from his face. He hadn't bothered to wash it in days, neglecting self-care. As your fingers ran through his strands, an idea dawned on you. With a small smile, you met his sad eyes.

"It's been a while since you washed your hair, huh?" you remarked.

He nodded, still focused on you.

"How about we have a little wash day? I just got some new hair care stuff," you suggested.

There was a moment of silence as he considered it. He didn't want to leave the safety of the room, but he was also bothered by his oily, limp hair.

"Yeah, that sounds nice," he replied softly.

"Yeah? Let's go," you said, standing up and offering your hand. He slowly rose from the bed, taking your hand and letting you lead him to the kitchen.

Since childhood, your family had always washed hair in the kitchen sink. Moms, aunts, and cousins would have you lay flat on the counter, and it was always your favorite part of hair care, like a special ritual.

Your hair care routine had evolved. With the right products and tools, you felt like a pro, especially during tasks like washing your hair. Now, wash days were more enjoyable, and you loved washing your husband's hair too. It was a favorite bonding activity.

"Okay, lay down on the counter," you instructed.

One perk was your spacious kitchen, allowing you to recreate the wash days you cherished from childhood. He hopped onto the counter, and a bit of excitement gleamed through his eyes. It had been a while since you shared an intimate moment like this. With his travels and recent struggles, there had been little room for such simple things.

You stepped away briefly to fetch your hair care items. Your favorite line was created by Taraji P. Henson, who understood the needs of tight coils like yours. Today, you opted for the Honey Fresh clarifying shampoo to remove oils from his locs and the Make It Rain conditioner for moisture.

Returning to the kitchen, you laid out the items on the sink: shampoo, conditioner, Denman brush, wide-tooth comb, and a shower cap—everything needed to care for his hair.

You couldn't help but watch as he lay with his eyes closed, fingers intertwined on his belly. Though he didn't show it, he was eager for this wash day, just like you.

Turning on the sink, you tested the water temperature with your fingers, ensuring it was just right for his scalp.

"Okay, let me know if it's too hot or cold." you instructed. With his eyes still closed he nodded.

The water hit his scalp and you watched as his brows furrowed then relaxed.

"Is that okay?", he nodded once again,

"That's perfect."

The warm water felt like a soothing touch on his scalp, the best sensation he'd felt in days.

"Good," you smiled, running your fingers through his hair. It took a moment for the water to penetrate his hair, the oils causing it to bead off into the sink. The touch of your nails on the back of his neck sent shivers down his spine as you worked the water through his hair.

"Alright," you murmured to yourself as his hair drank in the flowing water. With a twist, you shut off the tap, the room now silent. You placed the detachable head back in its place, and your fingers found the shampoo bottle, releasing a dollop into your hand. With a soft sigh, you worked the dollop into a nice lather with your palms.

You started at his hairline, the pads of your fingers tenderly grazing his scalp. Purposefully avoiding using your acrylic nails, your touch was feather-light. You wanted to cocoon him in bliss and make sure that he was as relaxed as possible.

Your fingers trailed to the hair behind his ears, a familiar path that never failed to make him weak. His ears, his sweet spot, where the slightest touch made his toes curl. Each time your wrist brushed against his ear, he moaned softly, bringing a slight blush to your cheeks.

"Feel good?" the soft words left your lips.

"Feels great." he confessed with a contented sigh.

His response brought warmth to your heart as you continued your movements, moving towards the center of his scalp where he was often tender-headed. With gentle strokes, you massaged the area, mindful of his comfort. In this moment, you found joy in this simple act of caring for your husband.

Though you wanted to get into deeper conversations about his well-being, you hesitated, not wanting to disrupt the peace of the moment. Instead, you chose to stay silent, allowing your gentle touch to speak volumes. But Joe had other ideas.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled

"Don't be, you haven't done anything wrong," you assured. Although you knew what he meant. He felt remorseful for acting distant and pushing everyone away, but you knew it wasn't his fault. He was grappling with emotions beyond his control, and you gave him space to work through them.

"But I have, I haven't been the best husband lately. Well really in the past few years if we're going to be honest."

"Joe-"

"No, listen.." his eyes were flooding with tears again.

"I have not been the best husband in years. I thought with this time off I'd be able to make up for lost time but the more I sit with myself, I'm wondering am I capable of being a good husband? I don't even know who I am outside of Roman Reigns."

Tears were now flowing freely down the side of his eyes and into his hair. For the past 4 years, he had been an alternative version of himself. He completely immersed himself into a character and with the time he had to actually sit with himself, he realized he wasn't really sure who Joe was.

Tears were now rolling down your face. It hurt to see him doubt himself like this. You knew who he was—Joe and Roman were completely different. It was hard to believe he couldn't see it; he was struggling with imposter syndrome.

You wiped your tears away with your wrist, trying to steady yourself. You needed him to know that you didn't share his negative feelings about himself.

"Well, your feelings are valid, baby, and I never want you to feel otherwise. But just because they're valid doesn't mean they're right."

You rinsed the shampoo out of his hair with the detachable head of the sink.

"You might not see the difference between Roman and Joe, but I do. I'm not in love with Roman; I'm in love with Joe. I didn't marry Roman; I married Joe. Roman is manipulative, selfish, cold-hearted—wicked, even," you chuckled softly. Joe wiped away his tears, mirroring your laughter.

You began to wring the excess water from his hair. It was finally clean. Now, you just needed to condition and detangle.

You reached for the condition and squeezed a quarter-sized amount into your hand. Then you gently spread it through his clean hair.

"But Joe.. Joe is sweet, he's vulnerable, and he would give the shirt off of his back to anyone in need. We all love Joe and we understand that just because you're away it doesn't mean you're neglectful, you're doing what you have to do to support your family. Joe is a husband, he's a son, he's a family man, he's a sweetheart, he's you."

Using the Denman brush, you carefully distributed the conditioner and untangled his hair, avoiding any painful pulls.

"You are not Roman, you are Joe. Do you understand?", you asked, pausing to catch his gaze. He kept staring ahead.

"Look at me," you said softly, but firmly. His eyes met yours, resembling those of a puppy.

"Do you understand?"

His lips curved into a soft smile and he nodded.

"Yes, I understand, baby," he affirmed. Leaning in, you tenderly brushed your lips against his forehead, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath yours. Then, with a gentle passion, you pressed your lips to his, sparking a feeling that had been dormant for too long.

As you pulled away, you couldn't help but shower him with one last sweet kiss on the tip of his nose before getting back to his hair.

"I know it's going to take time for you to adjust, and I understand it won't be easy. But I want you to know, I'll be here every step of the way. I promise," your voice was filled with unwavering support.

Carefully, you lifted his head to secure the shower cap, ensuring his hair received the deep conditioning treatment it deserved for the next 10 minutes.

"Thank you, for everything...I love you," he whispered, his words carrying deep gratitude and love.

"I love you too, handsome," you said, your heart brimming with excitement as you anticipated having your husband return to his true self.

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

Hope yall enjoyed!

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx @theninthwonder

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #wwefanfic #romanreignsimagine #romanreignsoneshot #roman reigns fluff #fanfiction #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x reader

[pixielover1]

smut w no plot :33

showering with ghost after a long day of training for the both of them 😻😻

I hear youuu (≧▽≦) enjoy!

A relieved sigh left your lips as you walked into your flat. You roll out your neck, tossing your duffle bag to the floor and kicking off your shoes. You rubbed your shoulders and let out a soft wince. Today was so draining. Training kicked your ass and you felt the soreness everywhere. You slumped straight into your bathroom, eager to wash the dirt and sweat off you. You turn on the shower to let it get hot while you remove your clothes. With throbbing muscles, you stepped into the running shower.

When the water patterned across your skin, you felt rejuvenated. Your muscles relaxed and your mind was cleared from the taxing shift. So lost in the experience, you didn’t hear the front door open. Or the steps leading to you. Or the bathroom door clicking closed. You finally noticed a presence when you heard a thump on the floor. Startled, you peek out the curtain. You’re met with Simons scarred back and a pile of tactical gear on the floor. A smile was already on your face when you greeted him. “Hey baby.”

You retreated back into the shower and began to wash yourself. There was no response from your lover. Maybe he left? You didn’t think much of it until the soap in your hand hit the floor. Simon had you pinned against the shower wall. “Love.” He hushed into your ear, voice raspy and tired. You open your mouth to speak, looking over your shoulder to him when he places his large hand over your mouth. “I need this.” You catch a glint in his eyes. It’s terrifying. His gaze alone sends a jolt down your body. Straight to your pussy. His body is radiating with anger. Before you could free yourself, he starts to tease your hole with his hard on, pushing inside you almost instantly. He doesn’t start slow, instead he fucks into you like you stole something. Your sexual sounds were muffled as his hand kept your lips closed and your body in place. His other hand slapped against your tender ass, the feeling sharp and hot. He pumped your soft walls full as he cursed out, “Damn new recruits are useless.” He starts to take his bad day out on you, greedily stuffing your cunt. His breaths are growls, rough; Just like his stroke.

Your tears are running away with the shower water, gone down the drain fleetingly. The Ghost continues to mumble his complaints into your ears, his dick drilling into your poor pussy. In between his rant he speaks to you, “Good.. good fucking slut. Better trained than any fuckin’ solider.” He degraded. “Keep taking my cock like that doll, my dumb whore.” He laughs mockingly. You start to claw at his hand and he pulls your hair harshly to bring your face closer to his. He’s annoyed at your protests. “Fucking hell.. Cut it out. You're damn better than this.” He’s rough with you. He’s not being as considerate as he usually is. He’s forcing his cock into you at a merciless pace. From this position, you got a full view of his flexing muscles, his veiny arms keeping you in his control. The sight alone makes you peak. You scream into his hand when he makes you cum. The tears on your face only encourage him. He continues to use you and all the hot water. His motions start to grow sloppy when his climax approaches. He lets a long groan out as he brims you with his cum. One last heavy slap to your bottom and a hungry kiss after releasing your captive mouth. When he hears those perfect whimpers fall from your lips he knows he needs more. He releases you and turns off the water, making you turn your panting frame to him. Simon tugs the curtain back and orders you, “The bed, now.”

#simon riley x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #afab reader

[itsonlydana]

Heyy I just wanted to ask if you could write something for Thranduil x gn!reader just something really light and fluffy maybe like how he takes care of reader what they do in a day and just spending time together doing romantic things and reader really just enjoying life without a care in the world... (Deine Fanfictions sind soooo super ❤️Ich stecke grade sowas von in der Prüfungsphase es ist echt Gold wert wenn man deine Stories zu Lesen hat🤌🏻 )

Spoil Me, Pamper Me, Love Me | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x gn!reader 👑

a cozy day spent with Thranduil

warnings/tags: none, fluff!

words: 1,4k

an: such a lovely request; had such a fun time writing it :) take the elvish terms of endearment with a grain of salt.. i literally googled them lmao but i made sure to use gender neutral names. [Ich wünsche dir viel Erfolg bei deinen Prüfungen, anon! Ich hatte meine im Februar und hoffe du kommst da gut durch <3]

+ masterlist + rules +

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Being Thranduil's beloved comes with positives as well as negatives – he is a king, a leader after all, and most of his waking hours are dedicated to keeping up his political alliances.

This spanned from week-long travels to other kingdoms to meetings that could last long enough for most of the day to pass without seeing each other much.

Many of these affairs do not require personal attendance though and only expect Thranduil to correspond through letters; a convenience you both treasured admits all the dragging conferences at round tables that were more draining the less importance of the topic to be discussed – even a royal elitist like Thranduil, who took great pleasure in all things rich and extraordinary drew the line after twelve hours of staring at two types of wood to repair a bridge.

Paperwork days – as you called them – were the perfect opportunity for lazy mornings between you and Thranduil. Drowsily cuddling underneath silken sheets that caught the sunrise in their translucent fabric, shutting out the world for unhurried fooling around in each other's arms and with only your giggles and his huffed laughter carrying any indication you were awake at all.

Breakfast was served in your shared chambers and instead of getting up and dressed you took the small feast in bed, unbothered by the missed chit-chat and gossip that eating in the great hall brought forth for Thranduil's kisses are much sweeter than anything anyone could have done.

There is nothing the Elvenking wouldn't do for his significant other, including providing you with the ripest fruits to feed you only to lose himself in peppering kisses to your lips – chasing after the taste of the fruits that colored your lips red and pink.

"The sweetest," Thranduil mumbles, his lips moving from one upturned corner of your mouth over the bow of your lip to the other corner where he breathes another kiss into the crinkle of amusement that makes no effort of hiding across your whole face.

You are sprawled across the bed, still in an airy night robe that's pushed up to your thighs to leave room for Thranduil's hands to gently caress the skin.

The elf himself towers over you, the comfortable weight of his lean yet strong body pressing down on you as his hair falls over the both of you like a curtain of starlight. Your hands trail over his muscles as kisses the spot behind your ear that has you giggling and nudging your knee against his abdomen to push him away.

"Stop, my King–" you laughed, hands sprawled across his chest without any real strength behind them, "you know I can't stand this teasing!"

You feel the pull of his grin against your skin before you hear the rumble of his deep laugh. "I do, meleth e-guilen, I do," Thranduil says, and tipped his nose against yours, "but that makes it all the more tempting."

Your hands trail up to his shoulders and gather some of the light strands of hair, sweeping it over his back. His skin glows in the sun pouring through the window, thrumming under your touch, and with him draped over you, one warm leg between yours, the heat travels to you even if his broad back blocks out the golden light.

"Awful," you huff, "you are nothing but a dreadful lover, keeping me trapped here in bed." Like your hands on his chest, the words carry no harm behind them or any attempt to push him away from you.

If anything, you revel in the attention he peppers you with. The last weeks had dragged you apart and moments like this, where you had to think about nothing except for your lover's care toward you.

"Awful?" he repeats in a playful tone and makes a move to sit up. "Whatever did I do to deserve such harsh treatment?"

Instead, he quickly grabs you by your waist and before you can realize what's going on he has flipped you over, laughter bubbling up your lungs and spilling out while he falls back onto the mattress, pulling you with him and leaving you to topple over across him.

His fingers dig into your sides, holding you down onto him so you can't even escape the tickling that he dooms you with. "Awful, they say! I will show you dreadful, you minx."

Whenever you do make it out of bed eventually, hair all messed up by his hands, Thranduil insists on dressing you.

He treats you like you are made out of glass, warming up the milky creme in his hands before he massages it into your skin so that the chill doesn't bother you, and he sits behind you on the bed while he combs through your hair.

"Looks like thrush nested here," Thranduil chuckles. He barely evades the hand you swipe back at him as you snort indignantly. "Careful! You will scare the birds if you are not mindful of them"

The curse you throw at him instead has him gasping at the pure filth that leaves your mouth that, after hearing his reaction, curves into a smirk. "Get back to combing, Your Majesty. I do not have all day."

"Your word is my command, guren vell."

Thranduils lips kiss your neck, featherlight and then again, lingering. You sigh and let your head drop backward, falling to his shoulder, and blink up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes full of adoration.

His smile lights up a fire in your heart, the softness of it on marble features a reason to go to war just to see it again and for you to be the only recipient of this gentleness with which he wraps his arms around your middle, the hair comb long forgotten, that fuels the fire for all eternity.

On any other day, the duty to dress you would lay in the hands of your most trusted servants or your own, though nothing reached the level of wonderful that Thranduil made you feel right now, helping you to flowy robes.

For you, he even sinks to his knees, the only being alive that deserves this honor of the Elvenking kneeling in front of them, and you smile down at the crown in his hair, the silver circlet glittering just like his cerulean eyes in the midday sun, as he fixes your shoes for you but not without breathing more kisses on the inside of your calf which he carefully holds.

"Shall we walk through the gardens later?" Thranduils hand falls to your lower back on your way through the intricate floors of the underground palace, evoking a pleasant buzz in your stomach.

"We could go riding out," you muse, thinking back to the last time you and Thranduil had taken out the royal elk.

Thranduil steps closer, ignorant of the servants and elves rushing past you with lowered heads and bows, to nip at the curve of your pointed ear.

For everyone else, it looked like he had just kissed you, but his teeth grazed the delicate skin in a hidden manner.

That's how the public display of his utter devotion to you goes; loving kisses that – away from prying eyes – turn completely devoid of etiquette, as well as his hands that never seem to leave you, whether it's in the form of a simple pressure in your lower back or resting on your side to hold you close to him.

Thranduil did not need to put you on display for everyone to know you were his, the expression in his eyes told the story of a King completely in love in a way that didn't need flashy gems or luxuriant robes; not that those weren't gifts you regularly found yourself unpacking nevertheless.

"Whatever you wish for. My heart is your loyal servant," Thranduil vows, smiling at the bright-eyed expression you gift him at that.

The letters on his desk could wait for a day longer, he had all of eternity to manage his kingdom.

Thranduil spends the rest of the day tied to your side – or behind you on our royal moose, as you take him outside to the forest, Thranduils arms around your waist and his chin propped up on your head, as you let yourself fall into his chest. In these woods, with your beloved's sharp senses taking in all of your surroundings even while he busies himself with twirling the fabric of your robes between his fingers or drops kisses to your shoulder and neck, you are completely safe.

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

#📁files: thranduil fanfics #thranduil x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #thranduil oropherion #king thranduil #thranduil #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction

[poisonlove]

Make you mine | t.c

pairing: Tara carpenter X reader

Word: 7000k

Summary: Tara is engaged, but the reader couldn't care less.

Warning: smut

Music blared within the walls of the Meeks-Martin home.Pulsating bass made the walls vibrate, while twinkling lights danced in perfect harmony with the music. The teenagers, with glasses in hand, abandoned themselves to the frenetic pace, letting themselves be carried away by the wave of euphoria that permeated the air.

The attention of my eyes was magnetized by the presence of the girl who had already captured my attention for some time: Tara Carpenter.

The brunette wore an adorable and sexy pirate costume, her hips swaying to the beat of the music asa smug smile printed on her lips as she felt her boyfriend Chad's hands roaming over her body.

I squeeze the glass tightly, causing the beer to fall to the floor.

My Jennifer Check costume gets a little stained but it's not really a problem.

—Hey!- I turn towards the sound of the voice and see Mindy giving me a dirty look —You ruined the carpet- she says desperately and I snort at her exaggeration.

— I was distracted.– I say seriously.

Mindy raises an eyebrow and turns to see where I was looking with so much intensity and saw Tara give Chad a kiss.

—friend, you should stop this Tara fixation, she doesn't want you- Mindy makes a face and looks at me with a hint of pity.

—don't look at me like that- I stick my tongue out at my friend and she raises her hands as a sign of surrender, her girlfriend at her side observing the situation with curiosity.

— and I assure you it does, you just don't see it- I say shyly looking at Tara.

—she hates you- Mindy says sing-sonically and I roll my eyes at her comment.

— from hate to love there is a subtle thread- I say with a small smile, my finger wiping away the lipstick that simulates blood on my lips.

—You're wasting time-Mindy shouts and then looks at her girlfriend with a smile on her lips.— I advise you to go and have fun with other girls, many die for you - Mindy admits and then kisses her girlfriend making me feel a shiver of discomfort.

I turned my attention to Tara Carpenter and skillfully avoided an idiot carrying a barrel of beer on his shoulders.—I'm sorry- he apologized hastily and I forced a fake smile.

—It's alright- I muttered through gritted teeth and the guy grinned widely, showing off his white teeth. The song "Make you mine" by Public starts playing and the guy raises his free arm to the sky, shouting as he walks towards his friends.

I rolled my eyes and saw Chad whispering something into Tara's ear, making her smile. Meeks-Martin walked away from her towards his football team friends.

It was my moment.

Like a predator, I kept my focus on Tara's figure as I walked through the crowd, trying to get as close as possible. The brunette held a glass in her hand,swaying gently to the music. I bit my lower lip and positioned myself behind her wrapping my arms around her waist.

—You're back already?- Tara asked with a smile, and I bit my lower lip to refrain from shouting in excitement. Tara's body relaxed against mine as we swayed together, making me smile widely.

I knew I was doing something wrong, but I couldn't easily give up.

—Everything okay?- she asked timidly and I nodded against her neck, making her sigh. Tara tilted her head to the side and I smile mischievously thought it was the right time to make my presence known.

—With you by my side, everything's wonderful- I said seductively and Tara's body tensed up.

The brunette freed herself from my touch and turned abruptly towards me, giving me a dirty look. —You- Tara clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing emphasizing her hostility towards me.

—In the flesh- I ran my hands along my body and Tara gave a quick glance before looking at me with annoyance.

—What do you think you're doing? Touching me as if I'm not already taken?- she asked calmly, and I shrugged indifferently.

—You didn't complain- I justified with a smirk, making her grunt in annoyance.

—I thought you were Chad- she confessed, and I looked at her with a smug smile, irritating her even more. —As if you didn't notice feeling two smaller arms- I said timidly and she huffed annoyed.

—I hate you- she muttered through her teeth and I smiled even more.

I leaned towards her and her eyes observed my movement carefully. I licked my lips and she shivered noticeably at our proximity.

—I know you like me- I said hoarsely and Tara shook her head. her hand rest on my chest to push me away.

—No- she whispered and I smiled timidly.

—Come on, Tara... Stop denying it- I said softly, and the brunette shook her head making me angry. —Stay away from me- she said seriously, slipping out of my grasp and heading upstairs.

I closed my eyes and groaned in despair.

Without thinking twice I went upstairs and looked for the pirate, seeing her enter Chad's room. I sighed loudly, anger boiling in my veins as I entered behind her tired of the flirting situation.

I locked the door.

—what the hell are you doing?!- Tara Carpenter lets out a yelp of surprise feeling my hands around her waist making her back slam against the door. —I just want the truth- I said calmly and looked at Tara curiously.

The brunette breathes loudly, our noses touching.

—I want Chad- she says calmly. Her eyes trail down to my lips and I smile wide catching her in the act. —You can do better- I say shyly, her hand gripping her hip.

Tara seemed to hyperventilate at any moment.

—and would that be you?- Tara laughs mockingly but her attempt to ridicule me fails miserably. —Yes-I confess in a low voice and Tara tilts her head to the side, analyzing me carefully.

—I hate you- she murmurs, swallowing her saliva loudly, avoiding my gaze.—Say it looking into my eyes- I say seriously, mentally preparing myself for her answer.

Tara looks up and her brown eyes stare into mine with superb attention.

—I...- she begins and swallows her saliva loudly, her  teeth clenching her jaw. —I ...- she repeats again and sighs with frustration.

—to hell with it— Tara grabs my face and pushes me violently against her, bringing our lips together abruptly.

I sigh against her mouth and squeeze her waist tighter, bringing her closer to my body. The brunette's hands roam along my body making me smile and feel shivers of excitement. I increase the intensity of the kiss wanting to literally merge our bodies and I let myself be carried away by the carousel of fantastic sensations that are circulating in my body.

—I knew you wanted me- I smile widely knowing I have gained her attention.

Tara pulls away a little, her gaze mixed with desire and uncertainty on her part.—I can't... I shouldn't...-

I look at her intently, trying to grasp every nuance of her mood.

—You don't have to worry about should or could- I reply firmly, moving closer to her again. —We just have to follow what makes us feel alive, at least for a moment.-

Tara hesitates for a moment, but then she abandons herself to the kiss again, letting herself be carried away by the whirlwind of emotion that envelops us. Our lips move together in a synchronized kiss as my hands slowly roam her body.

I slowly undo the strings of Tara's dress and the brunette raises her arms, making the gesture easier for me. Our lips connect again as Tara walks towards the bed in the room, resting her back on the mattress.

I break the kiss and see Tara's eyes completely hooded with excitement, a shiver runs through my body.

I get lost in her facial features: full, perfect lips, long eyelashes, freckles and such a damn sexy smile.

—Shall we take this off?- I say in a hoarse voice and Tara nods weakly, taking off her dress. My mouth waters at the sight of her body covered in underwear.

I bring our lips together again and start attacking her neck making her sigh loudly.

My hand was between her fully open legs silently inviting me to continue.—Please- Tara begs me softly and I moan from the feeling of her nails digging into my skin.

—what do you want- I say between my teeth.My fingers play with her underwear making her exasperated.

The party music could be heard in the background in this room.

—Y/n— she says through her teeth and I smile with satisfaction.

(Don't you feel the rush?) Make you mine Look at it in my eyes, how they never lie.

I accept her silent please and literally tear off her panties—Y/n! They were new!— Tara looks at me reproachfully.

— Oh shit!- Her facial expression changes instantly as she feels my fingers sink into her.

My lips find their home on her neck, Tara's sighs and moans escalating recklessly.

—Fuck! — Tara moans and bites her lips hard, her nails digging into my still-clothed back.

I increase the speed and intensity of  her making the brunette who was close to her orgasm moan more.

—Are you coming already? -I tease her by whispering in her ear and the brunette sighs loudly-shut up and continue- Tara says in a serious voice and I obey her orders by increasing the speed.

Tara's walls enveloped my fingers and I knew she was at her limit.

—Say my name- I say against her neck and Tara moans more.—Fuck... Y/N!- Tara moans louder and her fluids pour onto my fingers.

I prolong her wave of pleasure.

I kissed her again.

Someone knocks on the door and moves the handle trying to enter the room. Tara separates from me and looks at the door with alarm.

—love? It's you?-Chad says behind the door.I bit my lip trying to hold back my laughter.

Tara's eyes widen and she looks at the door with concern.

What a shitty situation.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega smut #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #party #halloween party #smut

[weebsinstash]

Since you guys have been digging poly yandere LuciLili do yall wanna hear one of my more fucked up ideas

I keep thinking about scenarios where Lilith is emotionally intelligent enough to kinda, get a read on who you are pretty quickly and, maybe you even help out by being a bit too honest about yourself, and she falls in love with you first and decides almost on his behalf that you would be perfect for Lucifer as well. Like I'm talking this man may know barely more about you than your name but Lilith sees certain similarities or contrasts between you that she's like, INSANELY POSITIVE you two would be perfect together, and she may be totally right, but the ethically dubious part is when Lucifer isssssss not quite as fast to warm up to you and Lilith tries to... expedite that process

I've thought of, the idea i mentioned before with you being pulled into a kind of dream dimension where you're bonding with them in a pseudo-Eden, that maybe Lilith "invites you" into their dream without telling or asking Lucifer first, and then it's in Eden where he falls in love with you, since, you're acting more like your actual true self since you think it's a dream with no consequences. In the waking world, you're nervous, barely making eye contact, maybe even a little scared of him, but in Eden, it's "do you two have nicknames for each other? Like do you ever call each other things like, maybe Lucifer is Lulu or Luci or Ducky and Lilith would be Lili or-- also when you two first met, Lucifer, were you ALSO completely naked or did you accidentally teach her what clothes were and made her self conscious? Since Lilith was naked when you met her, was it hard not to stare at her p--" like, you have so many interests and all this curiosity and they both think it's so cute and once you start talking, you speak in paragraphs not sentences and they just pofe watching you get excited and interested about things

but picture it gets to the point where here's Lucifer, "ok Lili OK I like her alright?! But it's- she's not really ready for a relationship let alone a BABY right now" and Lilith is just pouting and crossing her arms and BANISHES HIM TO THE COUCH. IM SERIOUS. Kicks him out of his own fucking bed and tells him he should be in yours instead. "Well just MAYBE she would be ready for a relationship if she had someone to show her she was safe and cared for LUCIFER >:( don't pretend you haven't been wanting another child LUCIFER >:( don't make me get her pregnant myself LUCIFER >:(" and also she very very well COULD do that so it IS a credible threat

Like Charlie is getting so fucking worried her parents are bickering all the time and she's worried they're gonna get divorced and it's just like, THEM ARGUING OVER GETTING YOU PREGNANT OR NOT. Lilith is over here privately having conversations with you where you're breaking down about dying before you could get a partner and get married and have a wedding and have a baby and she's running back to Lucifer, "cmon Lulu... don't you want to know what your baby would look like? She's just so SAD, Lulu, she wants her baby and her family SoooOoooo badly. You mean you don't want Charlie to have another sibling? You dont want a little baby to put in a little duckie onesie?"

I just. Picture. Lilith inviting you and Lucifer to drink with her and she just. Drugs you both, completely unapologetically slips you both aphrodisiacs. Gets you Hella Hella Drunk and, at some point later in the night, Lucifer thinks he's having sex with his wife, but uh, not wife number 1, that's for sure. He doesn't snap out of it until either the next morning or when he's already, you know, finishing, and you're just slurring and clinging to him like a teddy bear and honestly probably already pregnant

LATER ON DOWN THE LINE AFTER YOU'VE HAD YOUR BABY, you break down crying to Lucifer, "I want to tell you something but I'm worried you'll be mad but I- I don't want my baby to grow up with a lie and get hurt in the future, and, and you're a really good person and a good husband and a good dad and I hate lying to you" AND YOU REVEAL YOU WERE IN ON THE DRUGGING THING THE WHOLE TIME. LILITH APPROACHED YOU AND TALKED YOU INTO IT. But Lucifer still doesn't blame you because you're absolutely perfect in his eyes and, now you two have a beautiful little baby and you're both so so happy together, and here's Lucifer, "hey honey? I'm gonna go talk to Lili for a lil while, ok? Be back later ^^"

Skip to like a month later, here's Lucifer looking quite smug, "big news everyone! Lilith is pregnant! We've got another Morningstar on the way!" and here's Lilith ALSO looking quite smug cause, awwww that's so cute, he thinks he got back at her, but really, she got everything she wanted in the end. Lucifer just puffing out his chest because he's got a new baby and another on the way and Lilith just smirking coyly as she continues to knit little baby socks. If they'll go to your baby or hers or, maybe another future baby of yours, now, who can really say? Honestly the happiest Morningstar is Charlie because now she has her dad, her mom, and her other new mom, and now her new siblings too! And if anything bad ever happened to you or your baby the entirety of the Hotel will go to war for you with unspeakable unspeakable violence :)

#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #yandere hellaverse #hh #sinprompts

[88y53]

New trailer for MAWS Season 2! I have some things to say.

Mainly about the villains.

And I just...

How about we start with the positives.

They brought in Atomic Skull, which is great. He should've been here sooner if you ask me.

Parasite is returning, and he was a stand-out in my opinion. Loved how they reinvented him.

That's unmistakably a parademon, which means they'll be expanding the space side of the story and bringing in the New Gods. Cool.

I'm thinking this is Solaris, the Tyrant Sun. Always fun to bring in an evil sentient star.

Looks like they're bringing in Steel, which is awesome. Love having him around.

And for the big one:

Supergirl! Clark isn't alone anymore!

It'll be really fun watching how this develops.

Okay, now for the things I'm iffy about.

Is this guy supposed to be Bloodsport or Conduit? Either way, can we stop with the techno-mercenary-criminals?

I guess not because apparently this is going to be Blockbuster.

Livewire's back. I say through clenched teeth. Hopefully, they'll introduce her pathological need for attention and validation in this season.

Apparently, Brainiac is a collaborator with the Kryptonians, who seem to be like the Viltrumites from Invincible–superpowered world conquerors.

[I do kind of like this call-back to the old Fleischer cartoons]

And then this:

This is officially Lex Luthor.

. . . (sigh). This show is so frustrating to me because it's so close to perfect, but it just never commits to getting it right.

Now, I understand Lex Luthor is a hard character to grasp because he's been completely misunderstood for the past 40 years (and we have John Byrne to thank for that).

I can see how they could spin this into a Breaking Bad scenario–a young genius who feels overlooked and underappreciated decides to become a master criminal to get the respect law-abiding society denied him.

But that's still missing a critical piece of his character.

Lex Luthor and Superman used to be friends.

(This was written by Jerry Siegel, by the way–AKA the co-creator of Superman)

There was a time when Lex had the potential to be a world-changing scientist, but a rookie mistake by Superboy completely changed the trajectory of his life.

It's only when they had a falling-out that Lex became a criminal because he lost faith that society would ever accept him.

This Lex feels more in the mold of the John Byrne Lex who was just a bad Donald Trump parody.

It also brings to mind Jesse Eisenberg's pseudo-libertarian Mark Zuckerberg Luthor, which was just the apex of how shallow the Post-Crisis Luthor is.

Basically Lex Luthor becomes a super-criminal because he has no friends. He's a GD incel.

Like, seriously, he's just a lonely nerd who denies his insecurities through a hyper-masculine persona, all to distract himself from how miserable he is.

That is Lex Luthor

That's what makes moments like this so poignant:

Lex Luthor could be happy and respected if he just let go of his toxic mindset, but he's so wrapped up in his misanthropy, self-pity and self-loathing, entitlement, and blaming of Superman to see it.

I also kind of headcanon that Lex is gay and just massively over-compensates for it, and his fixation on Superman is the same hated obsession incels have with women.

Maybe the show will surprise me, who knows?

I'll still watch it–it's the first solo Superman cartoon in the last 27, so you can't be picky about these things.

#my adventures with superman #maws #maws spoilers #superman #lex luthor #adult swim #dc comics

[richeeduvie]

Lalo being horny and fucking obsessed with Princesa 😍🥰

Rounds

NSFW DRABBLE: 18PLUS - Smut, breeding kink, descriptions of cum and blood. feet stuff? Accidently hurt!Reader. Princesa cries and Lalo's horny about it, and also guilty. What a mix.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

You were drunk before you were out of it. With how Lalo fucks you deep.

Sleepy in how unsober you were.

"I can't wait for you to go fully grey. Don't tell me I said that when I'm not drunk."

He didn't do much with humor as you stumbled and mumbled in words, but you weren't going to be the one to notice how...heavily Lalo took to staring at you in the dark and silence. How much he would blame you for how you moved your hips on his lap. But you really were trying to find a good way to sleep on him.

You think, if he keeps fucking you, you'll fall asleep with his cock inside you. You don't think he'll stop stretching you out, making you leak.

It's wet, fast sounds of his balls slamming into you. Everything's messy. Maybe you'd be worried about the mess if you weren't whimpering, head thrown back. If he could just keep fucking you like this forever.

No, making love. Lalo finds it cute when you call it making love, if you're brave enough to refer to sex when you're not having it - even when his fingers are digging into you.

It's the third, or fourteenth position you've been in. You don't know, but you're sure you were kneeling at some point, your face is sticky with dried cum. But so is your stomach, so you'll just assume you've been fucked into nothing for the past hour or so.

Lalo's done with the dirty talk, the degradation you think. At least for now, he's keeping to heavy, even breathing with the sweat of his forehead pressed to yours.

You breathe your whimpers into Lalo, legs crossed and drawn up to your stomach as he leans over. It's a sharp pain along your neck with how his thumb presses in the jab of the throat. And the nape. But it feels beautiful. You're full again and again with how he fucks himself into you, his cock stretching you out with every quick, impossible thrust.

"There's nowhere you can go. Nowhere you can go."

Lalo's hips move into you, pressing his palm flat over your stomach.

Right where he wants to be. His little whore can just stay in this bed for the rest of her life. She don't need anything else. You're simple like that. His simple, perfect Princesa.

He's gonna fuck little Salamanca into you, make nowhere to go something even more true.

It's like he's saying to himself as his thumb runs over your belly button.

"Lalo."

Your toes curl and you clench down on Lalo's cock as he lifts himself from the lean over. He uncrosses your legs from your stomach, drawing them up to place your feet on his chest. Your knees are bent together, the way his cock feels inside you hits your used insides softer, but longer in the stroke.

He just needs more of this, more of Princesa. More of Princesa. More bebés to put inside of you so you don't go anywhere. But you wouldn't, you love him too much. You love him too much that you can't even say it - his shy whore of a woman he fucks.

More of Princesa.

Lalo's palm engulfs your knee, pushing your thighs into your stomach and breasts as his another hand comes up to his lips. He licks his thumb, your eyes only widen in only just realizing the shiny and white, thick coat of his seed comes to his tongue.

"I don't know how you drink that down, Princesa."

Lalo tilts his head back when you squeeze around his cock.

"You just like it so much, huh? Could drink it all day."

He wipes your cheek and presses his thumb to your lips. You suck, he coos. Your body jerks with a whining keen, but it's impossible to move with how he has your body against his. His thrusts slip in and out of you at a brutal pace that kills every thought that isn't how much you need this - how much of that little whore you are. You'll be every name in the book if it means Lalo will let you suck his thumb with his cock stretching you out.

It's a salty, warm taste on your tongue as you suck mindlessly. You feel something like that on the other end. A wet, warm tongue harsh on your toes.

Your heart, your body feels like a stupid-worn smile. But you do smile dazily. Stupidly - with every breath coming louder. One hot, big hand holds your knee, the other on your ankle before he stuffs your mouth with his thumb again. He sucks on your foot with his cock growing thicker inside you, every thrust in the deepest, wettest parts of your body.

More.

This is just where you belong, stretched and fucked out on Lalo's cock as he takes care of you. He's taking care of you. He's the handsomest man and he's so warm, his cock feels so good on your insides that you clench as tight as you think you can. You moan, whimper it out with the bite of your lip. More. Lalo's taking care of you. His tongue, his cock, his hands - it feels perfect in the heat of your body.

Your thigh tremble, the heat inside you boils low. Your body is begging for his cum again. And it will again when he spurts inside of you.

But then...even in how out of it you are with a dazy-stupid smile, Lalo's teeth becomes the thumb and finger bruising your neck. It's a focused sucking. There's no tease.

But something familiar comes with how he unfurls - how Lalo fucks you harder, pulling out and thrusting back in, the sounds filthy as he slams into you fast, sharp, but full pain at the hilt of your pussy. You moan long and low and press your thighs further into your stomach and breasts for when you cum on Lalo.

You bite down, whimpering.

Lalo bites down too and at first, it's not enough to get you sober. It's more of something to make your head roll and feel small, his submissive nothing of a person. His person. You can't be anything else.

But he's fucking your through his orgasm, hot and cum spurting into you as his teeth come down on your toes harsher - longer. No air in his mouth, just a wet bite.

Filling up your belly. More. Fucking whore. Perfect Princesa.

You're in need, in survival sorts of an aftermath for him to kiss you.

"Lal-"

But Lalo bites down.

"Ow!"

Even with you pulling your foot away in pain, it's like that strikes something in Lalo - you don't know what, it's just your foot.

...Your bleeding foot he can't let go of. He pulls you to his body, pressing you into his softening cock with aggression. Not knowing, you don't think? But you don't think.

You were taken care of and now...you're bleeding. It hurts.

Why did he do that?

"Lalo. It hurts."

You watch as Lalo blinks himself open. He stares at the red, the broken skin that stings. It hurts. You watch through this blurriness before you realize it's hot tears.

"Lalo."

"...Princesa. What did you do?"

...What?

"What?"

"...You were too pretty tonight, sweet girl. Your guy's sorry - what did I do to your poor little toes?"

You flinch at the sting when Lalo tries to manage the small, bleeding wound on your foot. It's sore. And he bit you.

"Lalo, why'd you do that?"

"I just-" You wipe your eyes, tears coming quicker. "Princesa, I didn't mean to hurt you. Don't stain your cheeks, I'll take care of you...I got like you for a second. I'm just stronger, hm?"

Lalo doesn't know he's like a shark to her blood, he doesn't know that goes up against the way his guilt sits hot in his chest - in the pit of his body. He didn't hurt you. He means...he did, but he was just too all over your pretty toes. He got caught up. The guy is sure he's allowed to be a fool sometimes.

That doesn't stop him from breathing hard when you try to leave him. Leave him hurt, where he can't take care of what he did to you.

"I have to clean it-"

"I'll clean it. I'll take care of you. I..."

Lalo holds your ankle up against his chest. You swallow in pain and in the silence. When he puts his forehead to your foot, something like being in thought. The hold on your ankle grows tighter.

"You know I didn't mean to hurt you. I wouldn't make you bleed on me unless you asked, Princesa."

"But you did."

Lalo looks up with a quick lift of his head.

His eyes are still, black - but something somehow shifts. It makes you cold in the wet, messy heat.

Lalo, after a long bit of nothing, crosses your calves on your stomach. Your knee presses into your breast as he leans over. You turn your head as he threads his hand on the side of your scalp.

You mm, something like a whine. Pathetic and tired, a half-sort of fight with your arm bent to curl your fist on his pec. Lalo holds you elbow.

"I'll take care of it, sweet girl."

You cry a bit more, eyes small with your lips thin.

You want him to, you want to give in so badly, but it hurts and it's because he got too caught up.

You can't cry without Lalo forcing you to look at him. He leans further, forehead on yours.

"You know I'll take care of my mess. You can stay mad at me all you like - but I'll clean it up, I'll...I'll get you soft."

You mm a denial when he tries to push his thumb past your lips, but he does it anyway. You think he groans something harsh out when your head moves back and forth to miss his finger. But Lalo presses his thumb a shush. It's so wrongfully...

Or rightfully, deservedly soothing. You're not sober enough to be insecure.

"I can't have you denying me, even if I'm being a bastard. But look, you're already feeling better."

Lalo rubs his hand over your hair. Sleepily, you hate to say you are. But then he's whispering things at your ear, his soft cock still inside you with the sting and smell of cold metal fading.

The dried red on his mustache in the morning is enough of a sign that he's taken of you, whether you know it or not.

#inbox #hc's #drabble #madman!au #lalo salamanca x reader #better call saul fanfic

[b0njourbeach]

do u have any LeoVil headcanons? I like ur thoughts.

I hope you know how much I appreciate every single ask of yours that asks me about my thoughts and rants djdjsjs

Ahem. Besides the HCs I have mentioned here, I certainly have more bc oh boy, this ship got me wrapped in its silly little subtly toxic spiderweb.

So mainly, I have the HC that Vil started using flowers to express his feelings (both positive AND negative! Flowers can be indeed used to insult) towards Leona - But he didn't understand until Ruggie had pointed out that the "choice of flowers is odd" (He may know only know which flowers are edible and which aren't but my boy is smart). Leona then realized that Vil was secretly communicating with him, so he started to hit the books for a bit to reply in the same language. First, he found it stupid and used it in a sarcastic/snarky way but he started to slowly love it when he realized that no one really knew what was going on - Just that both Vil and Leona had random flowers popping up in their rooms, their favorite places and their desks (only the two of them knew the flowers were from each other). Then, at some point, Leona received a bouquet with following flowers (after studying them, he found out about their Victorian meaning - The preferred choice of language of Vil [Leona was basing himself on the more modern "translation"]): Buttercup (= "You are radiant with charm"), Camellia (= "Longing for you"), Cornflower (= Hope in Love), pansy (= "You occupy my thoughts") and a single tulip (= "I declare my love for you"). Vil waited for a week or so to receive an answer, already giving up on it when a single red rose was lying in front of his door.

For one, this one has been inspired by a fanart - Unfortunately I do not remember the artist or post (if you know: Please do link it in the comments and/or the reblogs or let me know about it, so I can link it‼️). In said Fanart, Leona and Vil has exchanged flowers to send a little message and well, I think I've expressed yesterday for a little how much I adore the language of flowers. So naturally, I'm falling in love with a fanart that uses said language to express even the slightest.

[Post has been edited, said fanart is linked here. Check it out, it's really pretty. The artist makes such good LeoVil fanarts in general tbh.]

[Mentions of attempted self-quit. Please skip to the next paragraph if it triggers you]

Since I personally believe that Leona is not only depressed but also has the lean to.. quit. I "like" (not in the way I'd enjoy it but I can see it) to imagine that he had one (1) attempt to leave - But it has been prevented by Vil. Not intentionally, mind you. Vil has walked in on Leona, who was midst doing the deed (I personally believe he'd go for a wound-free, "Falling asleep" kind - Therefore some kind of overdose and/or poisoning. Not really "Falling asleep peacefully" but idk, it just makes sense to me, so bear with me). Leona, who basically was on the edge of passing out forever, having severe issues with what he had consumed and then Mr. Perfect (Vil) walks in on him, thinking he just ate something that was already bad, so he stays. Talks to him. Keeps him aware, conscious. Alive. No one except Leona himself knows the truth, he just went with the excuse of having eaten something that has gone bad.

Vil definitely fell first, Leoma fell harder. Or better said: Vil fell slowly but obviously, Leona was just suddenly struck by "Oh shit, it's love" out of nowhere.

[While they're dating] Leonas closet is missing at least five shirts and to this day, the lion blames Ruggie - Fully unaware that the poor hyena hasn't done anything wrong this time. In fact, if Leona would've taken a single closer look in Vils closet, he would've known where his shirts have gone. Vil took them and usually wears them when going to sleep (bc that way, no one knows he owns them nor will anyone know that they're dating to begin with).

They're getting mutually annoyed by Rooks' not so subtle presence in the background (he got locked at least twice in a room, so they could go on a secret date).

#twisted wonderland #twst #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #leovil #twst hc #x answers

[muqingapologist]

rambling about fengqing

something about mu qing and feng xin seeing hua cheng and xie lian happy together and feeling as if they’re seeing their failure personified because they were never devoted enough in the end

something about mu qing’s lasting regret being not so much about the wrongs he’s done to xie lian (leaving him, not standing up for him, etc) so much as about the way he’s spent his whole life pushing everyone away

something about mu qing realizing that he has spent 800 years with so little to show for it beyond his achievements as a god…but personally, all was lost with the death of his mother…until xie lian ascends again, but well, though they can be friends now, xie lian has a life separate from him now

and then something about how feng xin begins to give mu qing the benefit of the doubt. at first for xie lian’s sake, he’ll try to be his friend. but this person actually isn’t so bad. in fact, isn’t this the person that can understand him best in this world.

feng xin showing mu qing kindness, allowing mq to realize that maybe he hasn’t ruined everything for himself. realizing that feng xin isn’t actually so much of an idiot. letting his defenses fall away bit by bit.

the realization that even after 800 years, people are capable of change. feng xin is capable of considering mu qing in a totally different light. mu qing is capable of forgiving himself and letting himself be vulnerable.

mu qing finding one day that he’s in love and it’s terrifying because feng xin hates him still, right? he’s just being nice for xie lian’s sake.

feng xin not having any qualms about loving mu qing. at first, he’s surprised himself, but he considers how happy he is these days with him.

feng xin and mu qing understanding each other better than anyone else and falling in love because of it!! growing independently and together at the same time!!

not instant love, not 800 years of pining, but slow, patient changes that lead to a deep trust and affection and understanding between the two that they both thought was impossible just a few years ago.

#tgcf #mu qing #feng xin #fengqing #tgcf headcanon #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #mxtx #mu qing needs to love himself more #slow burn #just some ideas #i just freaking love them okay #i do think they cared for each other to some extent their whole lives #but i think sometimes people trivialize their grudges towards each other in favor of shipping #i think by the end of tgcf #they are in perfect position to fall in love #but there’s work to do before that love comes #it’s not already there per se #fic ideas

[ilynpilled]

jaime through the eyes of other povs

#ik ik reconstruction of b&tb #also appearances #doodoo caca covered in gold #doesnt change the fact that he is an it boy #i still love tho that before asos he is presented to us as someone truly inhuman #like a griffith esque villain/beast #like these descriptions arent even positive they r just grand #like this kind of perfection is so inhuman #until he is brought back down and made into someone so thoroughly human #tbf this illusion also breaks when he falls off his horse and gets his helmet stuck on his head like a loser #half a corpse & half a god iktr #imagine being the worst guy ever and that all these people want to bash ur skull in #but 90% of them still go like #ok but id hit… #jaime lannister #valyrianscrolls