renata-has-thoughts

[renata-has-thoughts]

I've never done an ask before so this might suck

There is little to no narrator x readers and your writing is the best I've ever seen!!!!

If you have spare time could you pretty please possibly make another narrator smut where he's all pent up desperate and whiny but then fucks fem reader as rough as he can?

Kinda friend's to lovers almost?

If it's stupid or embarrassing please ignore this request all together!

Outlet

Pairing: Tyler Durden (Narrator) x f!reader W/C: 1.6k

Includes: NSFW!Friends to lovers, rough sex, penetrative sex, mutual orgasm, and, as requested, pent up Tyler.

A/N: Stupid? Embarrassing? Anon, we have nothing to be ashamed of. The Narrator is hot, this is indisputable fact.

“So you’re telling me…you have a club…where you fight. That you’re in…” you muttered, punctuating your words by tapping the table between you two alongside your disbelieving words.

“Yeah.” Tyler nodded without further explanation, taking a sip of his drink as if he had said enough. As if this were a normal thing to say.

“Y’know, when you told me you couldn’t hang out because you had ‘a club meeting’ all those times, I thought it was something stupid-or more importantly, normal, like a book club…or chess club, or something. But here you are willingly going to get your ass beat every week.”

“Why are you assuming I’m the one losing the fights?” Tyler asked, a tinge of hurt in his voice.

You paused, and shrugged. Granted, he has become a lot more toned over these past few months. More prominent muscles, a bit more confidence, the like.

“Right. Well, to each their own, but…try not to get too hurt, alright? Don’t expect me to nurse you back to health.” You sighed, staring at your drink.

“I wouldn’t burden you with something like that.” Tyler said, finishing off his own drink. A moment of comfortable silence passed. You two were good friends, had been for awhile, so it never was awkward anymore.

“Why?” You asked suddenly.

“Hm?”

“Why do you fight? Why are you in that club?”

Tyler ran his finger along the rim of the empty bottle for a second, then replied, “it’s helpful, I guess. It’s an outlet.”

“As in, therapeutic?”

“Yeah. I mean, everyone has their ways of getting out that anger. Getting an adrenaline rush.” He explained, his eyes leaving yours, and added, “I guess some with actual therapy, yeah, or healthy things like writing or sex.” He didn’t look up, especially at that last part. You noted that he hasn’t had a girlfriend, or otherwise, in the whole time you’ve known him, which was a good amount of time. Then you realized, neither had you.

“I feel like there’s a difference between things like therapy, writing and such, and sex.” You said, and put your drink aside, with your final swig. Usually by now, during these afternoons where you’d meet up at your house for drinks, Tyler would say his goodbyes, but now he merely shifted back in his chair.

“Depends.” He mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, as in, it depends on the sex.”

“Why? Is fighting for you a substitute for sexual frustration?” You laughed, but partly a genuine question, too.

“Well it’s not like fighting gets me going or anything, but they both relieve a similar thing.”

A silence simmered yet again.

For once, it was awkward.

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex?” You questioned softly.

“…I dunno. …maybe a year by now.” He responded, meeting your eyes again.

You thought, and recalled that it had been the same amount of time of celibacy for you, too.

“Same here.” You admitted, and caught his gaze.

Yes. You were very much attracted to him. It’s no secret you two had flirted playfully, but it was nothing more than banter, right?

By the way he looked at you then, you could tell it was never that casual for him.

Suddenly, he looked away again, clearing his throat as if catching himself.

“Thanks for the drinks, as usual. Uhm, I should get going.” He said, rising from his chair.

You mirrored his actions, but then rounded the table to stand before him in a swift action.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Tyler.” You stopped him, grabbing his hand.

Something flashed in his eyes when you said that, like a prediction of your coming words.

“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath when your other hand grabbed his waist, pulling him closer to you.

“Tyler, I-I think you’re-“

“Say I can kiss you. Tell me to kiss you. Right fucking now.” Tyler interrupted, intertwining his fingers with yours. His eyes widened.

“Please.” You whimpered.

He tilted his head, eyes closing as he pressed his body to you, along with his lips to yours. It started small, drawing away for a second for him to breathe in before returning, open-mouthed this time, his tongue sliding next to yours. He moaned into the kiss, and soon so did you when his hand slid to slowly knead your waist.

You began shifting back, tugging him by his shirt while you broke the kiss, guiding him to your room.

“Tyler,” you explained as you headed to your bed, “get it out on me.”

“W-What?” He gasped as you let go of him to slide off your shirt.

“The tension. All that’s pent up in you.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whined under his breath upon seeing you now only in your bra. “Yeah, yeah, I…I can do that.” He nodded, swallowing down his nerves.

“I can take it, Tyler. Whatever you give me. I can take it.” You promised, staring into his eyes.

“Really?” He murmured again, still in that whiny tone.

“Yes.”

His breathing halted, then sped up, like a racehorse when the gun fires, he fumbled at his jeans, stripping them off. He pushed you down onto your bed and climbed on top of you, keeping a hand pressed down on you after he threw off his shirt.

“God, you’re so hot. I’ve always thought that,” Tyler rambled, tugging your pants off.

“Do you know how many times I’ve touched myself to the thought of you?” You moaned while he rid you of the rest of your clothes, bra and all.

“Fuck, holy shit-don’t even-don’t even tease me like that. I don’t think I can g-get any harder than I am.” He exemplified this by taking off his boxers, leaving you both naked and panting already.

“Please, please use me,” you cried, gripping onto his shoulders.

“Want me to treat you rough? Huh?”

“Yes!”

Two fingers dipped down into you, smoothing along the wetness you had ever since he had mentioned the mere idea of sex.

You moaned loudly, not just by the feeling, but the fact it was Tyler. It was Tyler, of all people, fucking you. Finally.

His fingers left you to grab himself, pushing him into you steadily, groaning at the feeling of pressure around his cock, you easily inviting him, warm and slick.

“I knew you would f-feel so good. I knew it.” He whined, both hands groping your waist and pulling you down along into him.

Your nails dug into his shoulders and your head rose to mouth desperately at his neck. That was his final breaking point.

He began thrusting into you, using every inch of his cock through your impossible tightness. It seemed like every part of you went numb except for the places he was hitting.

It was euphoric. It was Tyler fucking you. And he was fucking you good.

His breathing occurred through grit teeth and growls, his pace unyielding. The spots in which he was grabbing your waist to shove you into him while he thrusted would surely bruise in the morning, and your body got hot just by thinking about that.

Tyler shot one hand up to your neck, just under your jaw, and you gasped in surprise, although it was quickly drowned out by stuttered whimpers as he continued his abuses. His fingers prodded into your mouth, with his palm firmly on your neck. You took them in hungrily, licking and sucking on them, making him moan. His reaction was enough to make you shiver.

“You f-feel so good.” You managed through the obstruction of not only his fingers but the overwhelming pleasure.

“Yeah?” He promoted, removing his hand placement on your neck in favor of slotting his damp fingers above your clit. “You like it rough?” He growled, proceeding to change his quick thrusts to hard slams.

From the combination of everything he was doing, you felt sweat form on your brow.

“Tyler, I-I’m gonna cum,” you moaned.

“Yeah? Hm? Cum for me.”

“Don’t stop! Please, fuck, don’t-“

“Baby, I don’t plan on it.”

There it was. Your orgasm approached you with the same raging force as Tyler’s pace. Hot and dizzying. As he vowed, he did not stop, staying at the same speed despite the mumbling of curses under his breath, stammered ramblings of ‘so tight’, ‘yes, fuck yes’.

You couldn’t help but bite his neck as you let the remnants of your orgasm finish onto him. He groaned loudly as your teeth found purchase in his skin, and he pulled out just as your orgasm faded to grab his cock and guide himself through his orgasm, cumming onto your stomach with breathy whines, his composure shattering with each small sound.

You left a kiss on the mark you made on his neck, letting your head fall back onto the bed to look into his eyes, drained but still transfixed on you.

“Tyler? You there?” You smiled.

“Y-Yeah. Fuck.” He replied, catching his breath. “Are you alright?”

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had, Tyler.” You were saying that genuinely. “Of course I'm alright.”

His eyes seemed to light up, despite his exhaustion when you said that.

“Thank god.” He mumbled, lowering himself to lie by your side, running his hands through his hair to collect himself. “That was definitely the best for me, too.” His eyes fell closed.

“Could I ask you one more favor?”

“Sure, anything.” Tyler responded, opening his eyes again.

“Uhm…” you began, and gestured to your stomach, where he just came on.

“Oh! Right! Shit, sorry.” Tyler laughed, getting up from the bed and heading to your closet, grabbing his boxers along the way and sliding them back on.

You felt content in that moment. You first regarded your attraction to Tyler as frivolous and one-sided, yet now you watched him leaning down beside you, wiping you off with a washcloth and kissing your forehead.

#the narrator x reader #fight club smut #tyler durden smut #tyler durden x reader #the narrator smut

[renata-has-thoughts]

Can you please write a Narrator smut (fight club)

Me personally I think he whimpers and he will beg for you to sleep with him or he’s shy but when you do it he’s like and animal 🤭.

T-Shirt

W/c: ~1.2kPairing: Switch!Tyler (Narrator) x Switch!gn!reader

Includes: NSFW, oral sex (reader giving), caught masturbating, switchy vibes from both parties, Tyler begging, Tyler being SUPER vocal and rough, reader being a tease, reader is described as having hair long enough to be pulled.

A/N: Ive been eyeing this request during my hiatus, and love the idea. So here it is executed. I’m taking nsfw drabble requests about The Narrator rn, just leave reader’s sex and what you are looking for. Ty.

The house was silent when you entered, so much so that the kicking of snow from your boots in the entryway seemingly echoed. Tyler was probably just asleep, still. It was early, after all, and you just headed out to get a coffee. No more than a thirty minute absence.

Assuming he was asleep, you forewent announcing yourself as having returned to set your coffee down and go to the bedroom to check on Tyler. Not to wake him up or anything, he just always looked so pretty when he slept. He got embarrassed every time you pointed that out. But you couldn’t help your urges.

You made your way to the bedroom, and quietly opened the door, leaning on the frame to look over at the bed towards him.

At first, it occurred to you that he was awake. Next, he was wearing one of your shirts. And lastly, he was jacking off. Or was, seeing as he froze the instant you two made eye contact.

“This is a nice view.” You managed, taken aback by him wearing your clothes. You felt your body temperature rise. God, that was both flattering and very, very hot.

“I-I’m sorry.” Tyler managed to babble out, removing his hand from around his cock to instead conceal it shamefully in a swift, frenzied movement. His eyes were wide and mannerisms jolty. You could practically taste his adrenaline hung in the air.

“That’s my shirt.” You observed, stating the obvious fact to both of you. You felt the need to put that out there anyway. Hear him explain himself.

“It’s…comfortable.” He stammered as an excuse, eyebrows furrowing in worry. It was admittedly incredibly adorable.

“More than, it seems.” You teased, breathing in an air of confidence as you felt yourself throb at the circumstance. You let a moment pass as you schemed to make the most out of this. To plan your attack strategy, per say.

You stood up from the doorframe and turned to leave. Not with the intention to, but of course, Tyler didn’t know that.

“Wait,” he exclaimed.

Exactly as you planned. You couldn’t help but grin.

“Hm?” You looked back at him.

“I know I-y’know, this was wrong, but, maybe-uh, could you…” he gulped, breathing a heavy breath before finishing meekly, “help me out?”

Your smile broadened. Success. To think all you had to do was merely insinuate leaving.

“Help you out? How so?” You questioned him back.

“I-I mean, I was just starting pretty much, when-when you, y’know, um, found me, but still…”

“Elaborate on that.”

“Please, help me…with…uhm-“

“Hm?” You teased yet again, taunting him further.

Finally, in a quiet voice, “can you fuck me, please?”

“Well, I dunno…” you hummed exaggeratingly, rolling your eyes and averting his gaze.

“Please! It’s not the same without you, please,” Tyler whined.

“Maybe…”

“Please! I’m begging you, please, please fuck me.”

“Alright.” You shrugged, but couldn’t help a chuckle at your cat-and-mouse ruse. “How do you want me?”

“Can I use your mouth?” He asked. “Please?”

“You say please in such a sexy way, Tyler. It really gets me going.” You sighed, walking over to the bed and taking off your shirt.

“Is that a yes?” He said, eyes widening.

“That’s a yes. Now get in front of me, you needy bastard.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, scrambling off the bed and standing before you as you dropped to your knees, giving him a sly smile when you looked up at him.

“You look nice in my shirt.” You complimented, placing a hand on his hip. “You should wear it more often, actually.”

“O-Okay.” He managed, caressing the back of your head with his hand, reaching for his cock with his other. You laughed at his blushing face. “Uhm, how much can you handle right now? Like, slow, or-?”

“If I’m being completely transparent with you, hon, seeing you in my clothes is driving me wild. Go crazy on me. I can take it.”

“Fuck,” he muttered at your words, cock stiffening impossibly more. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”

“Then don’t. In fact, I encourage you not to.”

He didn’t let a second pass between you saying that and him shoving his cock into your mouth with the carnal desire of an animal in heat, thrusting deeper and deeper until you gagged. He whimpered with unabashed volume, and you moaned around his cock seeing him so riled up already.

He pulled out, then slid right back in before you could register his absence. His pauses to rest in your mouth got shorter and shorter as his pace quickened already, like he was a man starved for your mouth.

“Yes, yes, thank you, yes-“ Tyler whined. His face contorted from soft to a grimace to melting into a whine yet again, his eyes meeting yours. His pupils were blown wide, his focus entirely on you.

The hand on the back of your head began pushing you forward to meet his hips, eliciting a stifled growl from Tyler.

Then another whine. Then a growl. A moan. Several whimpers. Tyler was vocalizing every hit to the back of your throat, slide across your tongue, and push through your lips.

“You’re all mine-oh my fucking god, you are all f-fucking mine!” Tyler groaned through his teeth, still using your mouth with reckless abandon. At this point, your mouth felt numb from his abuses, and you were loving it.

“Y-You’re all mine, and I get t-to fuck your pretty face, a-and wear your clothes and love you a-and get caught thinking about you, a-an-“

You pulled off quickly with your hands stifling his hips, asking, “tell me what you were thinking about when I walked in on you.” before dropping your hands again so he could continue.

Your eyes might have been watering. Maybe some drool was smeared across your face. You couldn’t care less. The world could end right now and you’d still only be focused on hungrily drinking in the sight of Tyler more than desperate.

“Goddamn-I-I was thinking about that time y-you-oh, fuck-you fucked me in this shirt in the b-back…of my car and had me screaming-Christ-I-“ He licked his lips and found further purchase in your hair, both hands tangled and pulling you closer now. “You put me in my p-place-I couldn’t fucking-oh, god, I couldn’t fucking think.”

His breath became ever more unsteady, and he fought and lost to keep some semblance of tempo, eventually falling into staggered, deep thrusts.

“I wanna cum in y-your mouth, that mouth th-that’s all mine, please, I-fuck!”

You nodded, and with a cry, he came in your mouth with several haggard pumps. As he faded into the pleasure, so did his voice into soft, gentle whimpers. His eyes fell shut as he rode out the last of it and caught his breath. You stayed on him for a few seconds after, watching his eyelashes flutter and chest heave. His hands gently left the back of your head, and you used the opportunity to pull off.

“That was-thank you-wow-“ Tyler mumbled, still trudging through the afterglow of his orgasm, which you had swallowed.

“You’re welcome, Ty. Just do me a favor, ‘kay?”

“What?”

“Wear my clothes more often, please.”

#tyler durden x reader #tyler durden smut #the narrator smut #the narrator x reader #fight club smut

[renata-has-thoughts]

Can you do another tyler durden smut (Edward Norton specifically) if that’s alright with you

Maniac

W/c: 1.4k Pairing: Tyler (Narrator) x gn!reader

Includes: NSFW, clothed sex, rutting, fighting, friends to ?, no real dom/sub dynamics, reader’s sex is not mentioned, mutual orgasm.

A/N: It’s been awhile, huh? Two months since I’ve posted! But I’m going feral over Tyler (Narrator) so of course I gotta catch up on these requests.

“I want you to hit me as hard as you can.”

“What?”

“I said I want you to hit me as hard as you can.”

You stared at him blankly in the murky warm light, making out his features which all added up to him being genuine with that request.

“This wasn’t what they meant about facing your inner pain, Tyler.” You replied mockingly after a beat of shocked silence. You had him over for drinks after the mental health group you two met at, and soon became friends at. Friends was a term for it, anyway. Sharing glances when someone said something barely believable, saving a seat before the meeting beside one another so you wouldn’t be cramped between strangers. It was more of a mutual agreement, and you soon came to learn Tyler didn’t even have anxiety (nor was his name Jack)-he just attended to attend. But he truly was a good listener, he made you feel heard. And confused occasionally, like now. He was a mind that fascinated you, and his current proposition only furthered that.

“No-I-I’m being serious.” Tyler doubled-down. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Punch you…in my living room. I feel like I’d damage some furniture, but most importantly, you. Are you sure you aren’t afflicted with…” you gestured to your head, “y’know…something?”

Tyler sighed.

“I trust you. I don’t really ‘do’ trust. Cmon, please?”

“Is this a ruse to get an insurance claim out of me?” You asked, starting to get concerned.

“Would you shut up and just-!”

He had truly annoyed you then, and warranted you slapping him harsh across the face to silence him.

He stumbled back, a hand reaching up to touch his cheek in shock, but his expression soon morphed into a grin.

“Like that.”

“You’re weirder than I thought, Tyler.”

“Thanks. Can you do it again?”

This time you put some real force into it. Some motive. You punched him in the jaw, resulting in him catching himself on a side table, knocking over and breaking the lamp.

“Tyler!” You scolded, frustrated that your prediction of this leading to harm to your surroundings came true.

“Whoops.” He said casually. “Better teach me a lesson for that, huh?”

“Is this some twisted fetish?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

You jumped on him now, finally with an excuse to put him in his place. He collapsed with a huff underneath you, groaning as his spine took the brunt of the attack. You didn’t give him time to recover. You brought a fist down to the side of his face, and then the other.

You were panting now, and he looked up to see your eyes blown.

“See, this is what I meant.”

“Your attitude is pissing me off.”

“I’m hurt.” He said with a bloody smile.

You took a moment to catch your breath and flex your hands. Was this awakening something in you?

“Did you put something in my drink?” You asked with a tinge of anger. Why were you feeling like this?

“You didn’t even leave the room. How would I?” Tyler replied. “Why? Are you feeling a buzz?”

You chuckled, leaning into the primal instinct. “I think I am, actually.” You bit your lower lip and thought for a minute. “Fight me back.”

“Alright.” Tyler said, and without further question, grabbed your shoulders and wrestled you down with him. You two soon turned into an odd mess of push, pulls, hits and jabs. Rolling off and on to one another, exchanging blows and smearing blood in the process. It was hot and electric.

“The fuck are we doing, Tyler?” You muttered breathily during an interval when he had you pinned down.

“Living. How can you do that without facing the prospect of survival?”

You hummed over that. He made a fair point, and fuck, you felt more alive now than you had in a good long while. Only took a maniac to teach you that. A man so detached from reality that he can preach about reality.

You flipped him back over, putting your knee between his thighs to keep him in place as you lifted your fists to keep the cycle going. Your plan was cut short by a small moan he let out.

“Tell me that was an accident.”

“I’d be lying. You put your knee against my dick.”

You looked down. He was right-what a predicament.

“Sorry.” You said. It felt odd apologizing for a slight movement when you were beating the shit out of him prior, but it just slipped out on principle.

“Nah, it’s…it’s alright.” Tyler rushed to say.

“What’s pain but an extension of pleasure, right?” You tried brushing the awkward moment away, but made it worse.

“Well said. We’re truly poets.” Tyler played off. But his breath hitched. “You can do it again.”

“Keeping hitting you?”

“That-that too, if you want. I meant-I dunno, it felt oddly good. The knee thing.”

“I appreciate the honesty.” You said, catching your bearings at the comment. This was such a peculiar situation, so why the hell did that sound appealing?

Fuck it. Tonight was all about primal instincts, right? You pressed your knee against his crotch again, and his head fell back, neck exposed as he groaned in something far from pain.

“I swear this wasn’t my intention.” Tyler sighed, still gritting his teeth as you applied some friction. “Just…an unexpected consequence.”

“Consequence or upside?” You asked, putting a bit more pressure on. He stifled a gasp as a response.

“Upside. Yeah, upside.”

“Do you mind?” You questioned further. Tyler tilted his head in silent beckoning for context, to which you removed your knee and closed the distance between your lower halves, replacing your knee with your own crotch as you settled into a straddling position.

“Oh, Christ, no, I don’t mind at all.” He whined, gulping. “Again-I wasn’t-this wasn’t how I planned, but I’ll admit I find you attractive. So this works.”

“The same unto you, Tyler.” You echoed, exchanging lopsided, delirious, and bloody smiles.

He bucked his hips up with a moan, and you took the hint to start moving. You couldn’t help but follow up his pleasured sounds with your own.

“Fuck, this is nice. How about we skip every meeting from now on and just do this instead?” Tyler mumbled through yet another whine. You answered him by kissing him very roughly. With teeth and bruised lips and desire. Your first kiss with him, in fact. All these feelings were so sudden. You kept going. Both the kiss and the rutting. He even joined you, matching your drags against him with arches into you.

“Is this fucking? A-Are we fucking?” You asked as you drew away from the kiss, resting your forehead on his.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I dunno. Do you?” You paused. “I lied. I do know, yes. But…?” You awaited his answer with worry, which he quickly rectified with a hurried nod.

“Good. That's good.” You said, then soon, “oh, yeah, shit that’s good.” You growled, picking up the pace. You could practically feel his erection pulsing between the layer of clothes that separated you two. You both forgot the fact you had him pinned down by his shoulders in the midst of a tooth and nail pseudo-fight.

“A-Ah, right there, yes.” Tyler whimpered, his hands grabbing your forearms as he thrashed underneath you. It took all your strength not to shiver with how good he felt and looked.

“Oh, god, I’m gonna cum. P-Please tell…tell me y-“

“I’m gonna cum with you. Please don’t stop. Don’t you dare fuck-fuck-ing-oh-“ Tyler tried to formulate words, but soon drowned in a slurry of moans. You weren’t far after him.

You felt like you were on fire, akin to all the heat of the fight at once. Pure pleasure tore, ripped-ravaged through you as your hips stuttered to keep moving. You couldn’t tell whose moans were whose.

You didn’t even feel yourself collapse onto his chest until you were there.

Tyler’s chest was heaving with uneven breaths as he regained a ragged excuse for composure.

“Let’s do this more often.” The two of you said in unison.

“Hah, couldn’t have said it better myself.” Tyler sighed, a hand falling onto your back in a rather wholesome gesture in comparison to the earlier happenings.

You curled into his body as you laid on your floor, which suddenly felt more comfortable than it ever had.

#tyler durden x reader #tyler durden smut #the narrator x reader #the narrator smut #fight club smut

[renata-has-thoughts]

W/c: ~1.7k Pairing: gn!reader x John Constantine

Includes: NSFW, Top reader, handjobs, masturbation, car sex (sorta…ig…car handjobs?). 18+ per usual.

A/N: I HAVEN’T WRITTEN IN FOREVER. I’ll spare everyone the details, but this was quite possibly the worst period in my life to start a Tumblr blog. Shits been crazy. I’ll try and get more stuff out soon, apologies!!

Your boyfriend’s travels never failed to enthrall you. Without a doubt, they always came with surprises, ill-timed quips, and incredulous feats of the supernatural. You took a liking to being his ‘getaway driver’, or, essentially, just the person who brought the battered, bruised, and exhausted man home back in one piece. Especially considering he never ended up getting his driver’s license. It allowed ample time for John to splay out his daily adventures to you from his indefinitely-claimed shotgun seat.

“-I made it so complicated, forchristsake, in the end it was just about giving the soul back up to him. Easy.” John complained, bringing a lit, half-smoked cigarette back up to his lips as a sort of punctuation.

“Odd,” you smirked, “you have a sort of instinct to give it up easily,”

Your hands were on the wheel, eyes on the road, but you didn’t need to have any resounding focus on John to know he was giving you a stare from hell and back. You were thoroughly amused, and paid no effort in hiding a smile.

“You think you’re funny, dontcha?” He replied breathily, as if he had been punched in the gut by your words.

“Mm, in fact, I think I’m hilarious,”

Defeated, John turned his head back to greet the cigarette he held in his hand, eyes once again taking in the road before you both.

It was late, empty, and one-laned, lined by bowing trees, limbs extended as if praising the sky above. It was quiet.

John’s passenger side window was cracked just enough to create an escape route for the smoke to retreat. You could hear the background chirp of crickets and low tones of faraway owls in the thick summer air of the backroads. The atmosphere was pressingly calm.

John never was too big of a fan of calm.

He reached over to fiddle with the car radio with his free hand, still taking draws from his cigarette with the other.

“I’m not sure we’re going to get many inner-city stations out here, Johnny. I’ve got CDs in-“

“There we go.” John interrupted, settling on a strong connection he found. The music was a soft lilt amongst the rest of the night, a soothing and permeable volume. “Wanna know a secret?” John asked rhetorically, retracting his hand from the radio to rest on his inner thigh.

“I don’t really have an option, do I?”

“When I was younger, Blur was one of my guilty pleasure bands.”

So that’s which band was playing. The melodic undercurrent of your drive.

“John, a boy band fan. I can’t believe it.” You teased, tilting the corner of your mouth up. “And to think you were in the punk scene all whilst getting a rise outta probably some tories kids. What a poser.”

John winced playfully. “I had a crush on…fuck, uh…Damon, right. I had a crush on him throughout my teenage years.”

“I’m exceptionally jealous.” You remarked with sarcasm dwelling beneath your words.

“Mmm, well, I don’t recall him ever giving me a blowjob that resulted in what felt like two orgasms at once…so…I think you’ve no competition.” He grinned with heavy-lidded eyes, likely referencing the last time you two had fucked.

“Thank god. You may be a slut, John, but you’re mine, right?” You concluded, sparing a glance to meet his pretty eyes. His darted away from yours the second you made to latch onto them.

You feigned a pouting expression. “That’s no answer, Johnny.”

“Yeah, alright. I’m a slut, just for you.” He sighed, but not without the hint of humorous understanding.

“Atta boy.”

John made a barely audible strangled sound. So small picking up on it would be more difficult than a city station in the furrows of a forest. But still possible.

“Can you repeat that for me?” You encouraged, suddenly vying to hear his filthy back thoughts.

“I said,” John began, pressing the cigarette between clamped teeth, taking the now independent hand down to grope aimlessly one, two times at his groin. He emitted a staggered whimper in a pleased, desperate reaction.

“That’s what I thought. I expect no less of you.”

“Fuckin’ hell…” John grumbled, muffled by his smoking as he continued his habits, fingers extending and contracting around the swell in his pants.

“What a predicament. Constantine is so needy he’s taken to near-jacking off in my car.” You mocked, “Albeit I’m not all that surprised, if I’m being honest.”

“I’ve been away from you for a week now…cut me some fuckin’ slack.” He sighed, returning his hand to his cigarette, his other free hand swapping to pick up the responsibilities.

“I get that, but all I said was that you’re a slut. Now you’re getting off-“ -John impeded your words with a garbled moan- “just to my insults alone. Which…yeah, makes sense.”

“Shut up, I know, I know…” John muttered hazily, now unzipping his pants.

“Shut up? I thought you were enjoying me rambling dirty things to you.”

“T-Turn of phrase, you bastard,” John huffed, palming at the waistband of his now-exposed boxers, toying with the mere concept of touching himself.

“So is that a ‘keep going’ or-?”

“Yes, for fucks sake, that’s a keep going,” John complained, taking a quick drag from his cigarette before thrusting a hand down his pants to aimlessly grope at himself. He added a small, “please” eventually.

“Christ, John,” you chuckled, driving with one hand, the other kneading at your forehead as you shook it in disbelief. “You kill me sometimes. I mean,” you began, resting your elbow on the console between you two, offhandedly gesturing towards him as you spoke, “…I mean, you can’t even wait until we get home?”

“Not when you’re calling me your slut and bullshit like that, n-no,” John moaned, his cock now out and clasped in one hand, cigarette to mouth in the other, with his head thrown back.

“Damn you, pretty boy. Damn you.” You muttered as you felt your body stir amidst his moans. You had another twenty or so minutes to go until you got home. No way you could hold out.

“Pretty boy…hmhnnm…I like that a lot,” his hand was moving lazily now, thrusting from head to base in a tired grip.

“I’ve gotta admit, John, you had me pretty fucked over when you were gone all this week. I swear my moans would’ve turned a deaf man to a hearing one. All ‘cause of you, of course.”

“Tell me how you’d touch yourself.”

“Fast.” You said with finality, reveling in the cacophony of curses that melted from John when you said that. “...and rough. Just like how we fuck, hmm?”

“Yeah, yeah, just-just like how we fuck.” John gasped, breath only coming in sporadic, far between bursts, separated by an asphyxiated period of whines. One of which was a jumbled mess of your name. Soft and uncharacteristically vulnerable.

You’ve never parked a car on the side of the road faster.

“Fuck you, pretty boy. Fuck you and your stupid fucking pretty moans-” You grumbled, unlatching your seat belt and then leaning over the console, finding a position with your knees facing him, hand swatting his away so you could take over jerking him off.

“I love it when you steal control of the situation from me,” John moaned, leaning back into the chair, eyes fluttering closed as you took the reins for him.

“I know you do, Johnny, that's why I’m doing this. I’d go as far to say I know you to a fault, right? Knowing all your…” you flicked several fingers over the head of his cock while thrusting your hand, much to his audible pleasure, “...weaknesses.”

“Know me too well, know me too bloody well, fuck!” He rambled, absently bucking his hips into your grip several times with less than poor composure.

Taking note of his unbridled desperation, you picked up your pace to something nearing brutal. His breath picked up as a consequence you easily reveled in. You didn’t stop exploiting his sensitive spot around the head of his cock, and ended up with a grin every time he whimpered. Thank fuck this backroad was empty.

A low rumble grew in Constantine’s throat as he bit his lip, trying to gather himself under your influence.

“Don’t bother with that dignity bullshit, love. You know I love hearing you.” You reminded, careening over to kiss his exposed neck, with his head thrown back, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Okay, yeah, yeah…please-please keep going.” John sighed, his moans making him tremble at this point. “I think ‘m gonna cum.”

“Then cum for me, make a mess outta my hand.”

“Fuck-yeah, I w-will,” he groaned. Soon after his back arched and his eyes snapped tightly shut, shaking as he did as he promised, spilling over your still moving hand. You kept going throughout his orgasm, using his cum as a lubricant. Slowly but surely, you winded down as did he. His back straightened out, and his eyes fluttered back open to meet yours.

“Well, thanks.” He mumbled, smiling broadly, with the hint of weariness in his voice as he calmed down.

“Anytime, Constantine.” You replied, returning his pleased expression. Before he could stop you, you wiped your cum-ladened hand over his trenchcoat, drying it. He opened his mouth to tell you off, but you silenced him with a passionate kiss. He gave up the fight and melted into it, but when you pulled away, he muttered something along the lines of, “this is my nice coat.”

“Alright. Let's get ourselves back home, shall we?” You said, resuming your position in the driver’s seat, buckling yourself in. John, too, righted himself, slipping his boxers and pants back on with a small, shaky exhale of contentment. You added, as you shifted back into gear and got on the road, “We can finish what we started when we get back.”

“...finish?”

“Yeah, gps says we’ve got 15 minutes to go. Think you can recover in that time frame?”

“Do I think I can recover? One look at you and I’m painfully hard, love.”

“You’re such a charmer, Johnny.”

“I try.”

#John Constantine smut #john constantine x reader #Hellblazer smut #Hellblazer fanfiction #Hellblazer fanfic

[renata-has-thoughts]

This was absolutely adorable, I loved it.

i just wanna cuddle with edward nashton 🥺

– 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh, me too, anon. in fact. this sent me on a little brainstorming session! you probably totally didn't expect a headcanons list from this but lmao I always have to go overboard so enjooooy. <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: vague mentions of Edward's trauma, tooth-rotting fluff, nothing else I can think of!

Physical affection is foreign to Edward. He craves it more than anything else; desires to be known so deeply that when you finally try to give him just that, it freezes him up almost entirely.

It starts innocently enough.

You're watching television with him, only partially paying attention to the game show. It's far more engaging to watch Edward watch the show anyways.

His expression quirks every so slightly with each question. Head tilted, you can tell that he's deep in contemplation. Completely fixated on the screen. Barely blinking.

And you're so lost that you lean into him. You keep telling yourself that it's unintentional as your head rests carefully on his shoulder. 

Edward almost doesn't notice you at first. It isn't until your arms curl around his soft midsection that he realizes how close you'd gotten.

He lets out a nearly inaudible, "Oh," as you snuggle into his side. Brain going blank, he stays still for a few seconds.

He's struck by the warmth of your body. How your hands caress him over the fabric of his shirt. He feels each one of your fingers gently pressing into his skin. In that way, you play with the ripped seams of his soul. Your softness has a way of untangling the frayed threads, leaving them open to being weaved into some new design.

There are a few things he does when he finally comes back to his body. He closes his eyes and hopes that the moment etches itself on the back of his eyelids. Then his lean arms offer their own form of kindness as he awkwardly pulls you closer, almost into his lap.

Like a decades old couch in your grandmother's living room, you sink into Edward's body and he groans softly as he lets part of your weight anchor him to the earth.

A chuckle from deep in your throat escapes you. "Mmm, you're comfortable."

You mean I'm not repulsive? Edward wants to ask. But he doesn't.

He tries not to let that worried little voice take form in his head, but his own voice still cracks when he says, "Thank you." To which you laugh one more time.

Edward can be so terribly nervous sometimes over the most normal things. Your amusement quickly turns once you remember that it's probably because of his past; probably because he hadn't really known this simple, sweet sort of solitude. But you flip that thought again and resolve, then I'll make this normal for him.

At nearly the same time, Edward determines that he likes this. He likes the way that even among all of the chaos and darkness, he can have this equilibrium. As he kisses the top of your head tenderly he remembers that this moment belongs to him and him alone.

[renata-has-thoughts]

In case if anyone is wondering, I’m not dead, my motivation only comes in 20min bursts.

#fanfic #writers of tumblr

[renata-has-thoughts]

Beautiful - Will Graham Smut [Hannibal]

Pairing: Will Graham X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warning: 18+ ONLY, dom/sub dynamics (kind of), unprotected sex (p in v), praise kink, handjob

Summary: (Y/n) takes the evening to remind Will of how she sees him.

Master Post

I wanted nothing more than to allow Will to see the beauty in him that I did.

I would allow the world to burn if it meant that seeing a reflection of the light of the flames on his face would make him see what I did.

But I sadly could not do that.

So, for now, I would settle for using desire and lust to achieve that goal.

I smiled down at him as he sat on the edge of my bed. He stared up at me with these wide eyes. Puppy eyes. I couldn't tell if he was aware of them, but I knew that I adored them.

My hand reached out and traced Will's jaw. His facial hair tickled the pads of my finger. I watched him blink slowly as I moved along his skin. He was relaxing. Slowly but surely.

"You are so beautiful," I complimented quietly. I leaned down and pressed my lips to his neck, leaving gentle kisses along his throat. "My beautiful, beautiful boy."

I felt the vibrations of him humming. I pulled back and smiled again.

I moved to straddle his lap, my arms wrapping around his neck.

My lips found his. The kiss was slow. I felt like I was trying to speak a million words by merely moving my lips against his. One of my hands touched his chest. I could feel his heart beating under my fingertips. It was speeding up each time I moved against him.

He tried to follow my lips as I pulled away from him. I chuckled a bit.

"So impatient," I teased, kissing the corner of his mouth. "It's okay, pretty boy, so am I."

I trailed the hand resting on his chest down. It paused at the bottom of his shirt. My other hand joined the first for a moment, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it away.

I bit my lips at the sight of him. Oh, how could he not recognize the beauty that radiated from him?

"Gorgeous," I muttered, kissing his collarbone as my arm wrapped around his neck again.

A heavy breath came out through Will's nose.

My free hand continued its path down Will's torso. It found the front of his pants. My index finger bounced on the button a few times before I finally undid it.

"Can I touch you?"

The question was so quiet. So vulnerable. I loved when he could be like that.

"Not yet," I said. "Just wait, darling."

I carefully pulled his zipper down.

I stood up. "Pick your hips up a little."

He nodded, lifting himself up enough for me to pull his pants and boxers down to his mid-thigh. I climbed back into his lap.

"Fucking beautiful," I muttered through a heavy exhale. I lifted my hand to my mouth, spitting into my palm a bit.

I reached down and wrapped my hand around his cock.

I moved slowly at first. Testing the waters to see every reaction on his face. I licked my lip as I watched the pre-cum on his tip. I used my thumb to spread it around a bit before going back to stroking him.

My hand slowly sped up.

His mouth fell open, a quiet groan escaping his lips.

Our heads were nearly touching. Our breath was mixing between us as we both watched my hand move along the length of his cock. I kissed the corner of his mouth.

He would never accept it, but he started a wildfire under my skin. It crawled through my veins. The fire wanted to go to him. It was why my yearning and desire stretched down to my core. I was constantly longing for him.

"You look so pretty like this," I whispered to him. His eyes rolled shut. "So good for me. Always are, aren't you?"

He moaned. It sounded rough. Like he planned to say something, but the moan fought to bury the words in his throat.

"It's okay," I leaned in to kiss and suck at the skin of his neck. "Just enjoy it, darling. You deserve this."

"Wait, wait," Will muttered out. "Please."

I slowed my movements down but didn't stop fully. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I don't want to come like this," he said. "Please..."

"Oh, I see," I replied. I pulled my hand away from his cock.

I stood up yet again.

"Pull off your pants and such, then lay down on the bed, okay?"

Will nodded, licking his lips as he did as I told him to.

I pulled off the rest of my clothes before climbing on the bed. I straddled him again, grinning at him.

"Are you ready?"

He nodded. "Yes."

I lifted myself up enough to have room to guide Will's cock to my entrance. I slowly sank onto his length, letting out a quiet gasp at the feeling of being full.

"You always feel so good," I praised through a moan.

Will let out a groan as I slowly rolled my hips. I repeated the movement, watching his face scrunch up a bit as his hands twist in the bedsheets.

My hips moved faster and I felt his hips moving to match mine. I moaned, a smile forming on my face.

I carefully leaned down and pressed my lips to his. My hands rested on his chest.

I listened to him moan into the kiss. I smiled against his lips, moaning back to him.

I felt my orgasm building up in the bottom of my stomach. It felt like a knot being pulled tighter and tighter, trying to get it to suddenly unravel and leave me in a state of euphoria.

"Will... Will, touch me," I instructed between kisses.

One of his hands reached between us and found my clit. I let out a broken moan as he toyed with the bundle of nerves.

"So good," I continued whispering to him. "So good for me."

My orgasm felt like lightning striking me.

I had to stop kissing Will back as I came. My back arched. I shook slightly, my hands moved to grip at the bed sheets next to Will's head.

Will came soon after me. His hips thrusted up into me as he did. I kept trying to move to work us both through our climaxes.

Once we both came, I slowly pulled myself off his cock and laid down next to him. I smiled at him, cupping the side of his face. We were both still breathing heavily.

"That was amazing," I complimented.

He grinned at me.

"Will..."

"Yes?"

"I love you."

He paused for a few moments.

"Will-"

"I love you too," he cut me off.

My smile grew again.

Maybe I would be able to get him to see exactly what I did when I looked at him.

[renata-has-thoughts]

As a tall person, I’ve found the ‘König/reader’ stories to be easy to navigate. I don’t have to worry about ‘me’ (reader) being described as short. In comparison, we’re all ants to König. It’s almost refreshing lmfao

#könig x reader #mw2 x reader

[renata-has-thoughts]

COD MW2 NSFW Headcannons

Includes: Ghost, Soap, König, Valeria x any sex/race reader.

A/N: I used to play COD: Zombies when I was little and had nightmares. Maybe this is retribution for that.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

70% dom, 30% sub.

Gives head like it’s his last meal, wants head like it’s your last meal.

Good stamina, 10min recovery (perfect amount of time to give some rounds of head before another one of his own, yk?).

Rough, but affectionate. The same ideology of cuteness aggression. He just can’t get enough of you.

Likes receiving: rough handjobs/blowjobs, face sitting/face fucking, mild overstimulation.

Likes giving: degradation and praise (best of both worlds), some spitting (if you’d like), spanking.

Favorite places are the couch, dining table, and shower.

“Babygirl/boy” “Hon” “pretty slut”

Soft grunts/groans, broken moan when he cums. A bit louder when subbing, a bit growlier when domming.

Ways to turn him on: wearing his shirts, teasing, touching his ass.

Tends to be serious, but may say something a little sly or witty.

John “Soap” McTavish

Also 70% dom, 30% sub. But won’t admit he’s willing to sub.

Head destroys him. Reduces him to a mess. He gives pretty good head, himself, and will go for hours if you want.

Great stamina, 20min recovery, and likes cuddling/making out before a next round.

Romantic, but knows how to pick up the pace if you request. May even default to it depending on his mood.

Likes receiving: sloppy blowjobs (knocks him tf out), nails digging into his back, pegging (but doesn’t know it!).

Likes giving: thighsex, edging, doggystyle, you in lingerie/something ‘promiscuous’.

Favorite places are ones hidden in plain sight (closets, bathrooms), the bedroom, and the shower (a lot like Ghost…hm…).

“Sweetheart” “Doll” “So fuckin’ good for me”

Low moans, with an off chance of a whine, which he’ll quickly surpress. Stuttering, then gasping when he cums.

Ways to turn him on: Again, lingerie. Coming up behind him and kissing his shoulders, as well as running your fingers up his arms.

Can crack an endearing joke, but otherwise a casual sort of serious. Y’know?

König

40% dom, 60% sub. He doesn’t know it until he meets you, though.

Head has this man gasping for air like he’s drowning or something. Head has him on the verge of (good) tears. He’s super eager to give you head, too. He takes it like he’s starving.

Great stamina, 20min recovery (usually due to the intensity of his orgasms). He is clingy and desperate for kisses after.

So fucking needy. I don’t know how much more I can articulate that.

Likes receiving: a good peggin’, frotting/grinding, passionate kisses, praise.

Likes giving: passionate kisses, crazy good head, teasing (all in good fun), hickeys.

Favorite place tends to be the bedroom, but he fantasizes of taking you in front of the fireplace or under the stars somewhere secluded.

“Liebe [love]” “sir/ma’am” “dear”

You better not be living in an apartment. That’s all I’ll say about his volume level.

Ways to turn him on: holding his chin, neck kisses, pushing him down.

Too focused to think of anything funny to say.

Valeria Garza

65% dom, 35% sub.

Her hands instinctively grab your hair when you give her head. Without fail. If you request, she’ll gladly give you head, too. She may offer to do so.

Best stamina of all, 15 second recovery (female). Thus, she gets right back into it.

She’s a woman of many talents. Rough? Quick? Gentle? Romantic? You got it.

Likes receiving: hair-pulling, worship, degradation.

Likes giving: handcuffs, face-sitting, long make outs, knife play.

Favorite places are negotiable. A real chameleon, she is. But she does have a sort of running streak for kitchen countertops.

“Babe” “whore” “pretty thing”

Breathy moans, hitching when she cums. Always has to catch her breath, as she inadvertently holds it sometimes in her focused state.

Ways to turn her on: raking hands through her hair, hands on her waist, sitting on her lap/having her sit on yours.

Serious as can be.

#ghost x Reader #soap x reader #valeria garza x reader #könig x reader #smut

[renata-has-thoughts]

W/c: 2.2k Pairing: Dom fem Reader x Sub P.Bateman Includes: PLEASE READ!!! Dubcon, very dominant reader, physical assault, blood play, blood drinking, scratching, degradation, riding, p in v, dacryphilia, choking/breath play, Patrick is into it but only slightly admits to it at the end, therapeutic sex? If that’s a thing? ‘I/My/Mine’ pronouns for reader.

A/n: First of all, always read tags, but I mean it this time! This is very intense but I had a LOT of fun writing it. I’ve read the book, and I can assure you he’s an insecure slut, and he’s so babygirl. Need I remind you, INTENSE. If you don’t like it don’t read it. That’s on you. No minors. Have fun~

My fist came down sharp across his face. I reveled in the electric contact stinging my knuckles as the hook of my arm drew away. What I savored even more was the pained, groggy gasp Bateman emitted, his head lolling to the side with the motion of my punch before snapping back, and his half-lidded eyes meeting my gleeful, anticipatory ones.

He made a movement like gritty biting to fix his jaw back into place, the grotesque crunch causing his expression to sour.

“I bet that hurts, doesn’t it?” I teased, loosening his tie with two fingers, curling them upwards suggestively with a coy smile. His face stayed stone cold and annoyed, but there was something behind his eyes. Like the poised stature of a scared rabbit preparing to dart off. The threat of adrenaline. It pulsated, alive and steady. I could stare into those eyes for hours. I could claw them out with the edges of my nails, ruining them.

Beauty is only that when it’s temporary. And Patrick is beautiful. With a swift tug, his tie was thrown somewhere far beyond my peripheral vision. Beyond my care.

“I’m pleasantly surprised you haven’t told or forced me to stop yet. Either you’re secretly into this or you have some insecurity about dignity…seeing what you can take,” I mused as I undid the buttons of his shirt meticulously, adding in a whisper, “whichever one it is, it’s absolutely pathetic. I find it adorable.”

The farther I got down, the more I could sense his restraints heightening. I couldn’t sense his breathing getting faster, nor as in feel it from where I was straddling him or hear it from where I was bent over his chest, but rather knew it. Call it intuition.

For my enjoyment, I didn’t undo the last button, I simply ripped it open, ruining some of the stitching in the process. Patrick yelped.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he hissed, more solemnly than with bite.

“Physically or financially? Because I don’t see you making any moves to get me off of you.”

“That was Versace.” He mumbled from somewhere low, and went silent again, save for a few small noises while I stripped the shirt off his arms and out from underneath him. I rewarded it with the same discarded fate of the tie into the abyss behind me.

I splayed my hands across his abdomen. So warm…so humanly warm. If I didn’t have any self-control I would slice him open from every vantage point I had. He is just so perfect.

“Maybe one of these days I’ll eat you alive,” I said, turning my attention towards removing his pants. He made a brief, inaudible high-pitched sound. It caused me to smile.

With a tug and a toss, I had him. He was as good as a cornered mouse. He looked like it, too, eyes boring into mine, alert and unsteady. I bared my hypothetical fangs at him in an open-lipped grin. His eyes darted away, off to the side as if in humiliation.

“You do maintain your physique quite well for me, Bateman.” I complimented, letting my eyes run wild around his almost exposed body, except for his silk boxers. Of course they were silk.

I removed my robe-the only thing I was wearing-while examining the man before me. This seemed to grab his interest, his own eyes making their journey across my flesh. I do have my own insecurities, as an unspoken custom to any person, but I relished the way Patrick looked at me. He was intimidated. What a pretty response.

I hoisted myself, in my straddle position, just a bit higher up his body so I was sitting on his abdomen. Just an inch or so closer to his face.

Without any warning, I punched him again, this time with my non-dominant hand. The bliss of it all consumed me again. The contact, the thrum of my veins and his, the sound, in all its harshness. I could’ve orgasmed right then and there. I suppressed a pleasured moan when Patrick coughed and whimpered. When his head returned to look at me again, I was ecstatic to see I had drawn blood in his mouth.

“Fu-uck��fuck!” He groaned. Maybe he bit down too hard on his tongue, maybe the clash of teeth caused one to loosen. Excitement coursed through me as I leaned down to kiss him, eager to figure out just how I had demolished the insides of his mouth.

It was open-lipped and I spent no foreplay before pushing my tongue in. For the first time that night, I moaned with a newfound wanton fervor. I tasted blood. His blood on my tongue. Even though my eyes were closed, I felt as if rolling them back into my head. As I drank in his flavor disguised in hurried kisses, I spent careful notice on the heartbeat deeper in my body. Need. Heat. Something beyond craving.

I desired to kiss him longer, to enjoy the blood I drew for myself, like wine from a vineyard, but my body demanded he be inside it.

The need almost hurt, I admit. I sat up, smiling down at him benevolently, and pushed back and over his groin. I can’t say I was surprised to feel he was desperately hard. I almost felt bad. I tsk-ed with pity. Teasingly.

“Fuck, Bateman, you’re hard,” I muttered, observing the obvious and licking my teeth for any remaining blood, like going in for seconds after a decadant meal. I palmed the intrusion through his clothes, biting my lip when he moaned. I wish I had a keener ear. I wanted to transcribe that onto a sheet of music. To play it for myself every night. Feeling each note under my fingers on the piano. Feeling his vocal chords.

I looked up at his expression, and decided I would’ve titled the music ‘ruin’, for his eyes sprang tears, blood pooled from his mouth, a vague bruise blossomed on the side of his face. Yes. He was ruined.

I cursed something holy and beautiful under my breath as I hooked my finger in the waistband, eyes glancing up to him to note his submissive expression. His cheeks were red. Flushed from my assault or the obvious situation at hand, I didn’t know, but I assumed both.

I pulled it down. Away. Off his ankles. And there he was, ready however I would take him.

I sucked in a harsh breath, either of my hands coming up and digging into the tissue of his thighs, my nails just barely piercing his flesh. Much to my enjoyment, he made a pained sob as I drew blood from one point where my fingernail was pressed just hard enough to do so. I grit my teeth to maintain some composure.

A small amount of blood coalesced under my right hand, where, as aforementioned, my fingers dug into his thighs. I grinded myself against his other leg to satiate me in the meanwhile as I bent down and licked the blood from his left one.

Y’know those conversation starters, that go something along the lines of ‘if you had to drink one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be’? I have a new answer, thanks to the events detailed. His blood was orgasmically fantastic in my mouth. It’s like it was made to go there. To be devoured by me. To take it for my own.

“Oh, fuck, Bateman,” I droned, lips shiny with his blood, a trickle down my chin. I sat up, and the sight before me was heavenly.

The slut was leaking precum. From me drinking his blood. And his face-Christ, his face-I can still see it when I close my eyes. Even more tears glimmered around his groggy eyes, drunk on me, blood from before still on his pretty lips. He was painfully red elsewhere, too. I felt self-gratified knowing he was likely agonizing over how hard he was. Fighting to not just cum without any contact whatsoever. That made me fucking throb, and I’m not embarrassed to say that.

Equanimity be damned. I practically threw any leftover poise I had behind me like I did his clothes.

I licked up the still bleeding wound on his thigh again, but I dragged my tongue up and onto his burning erection this time. He seized. Spasmed at the contact.

He moaned so despairingly I honestly can still hear it reverberating in my head. I, in turn, moaned as well. I kept moving my tongue, focusing on a vein I found, exploring its edges and curves. His precum went well with his blood, a good flavor combination I made a mental note to try again at a later time.

I needed our bodies close so badly. Together. To take him inside my body, permanently instating him as mine, and a physical part of me. So I sat back up, still straddling his leg, and hoisted both of mine over to lock him in place. I steadied my breath. I had appearances to maintain. I slid myself up, and finally, down.

He gasped. I gasped, too, but made an effort to suppress it. He felt…I don’t know if there’s really a word for it. Incredible will suffice.

“Is this what you wanted?” I asked, beginning to thrust up and down upon him.

“I-I-“ He replied, per say. His voice was battered and broken.

“Ugh, speak up,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. Half from pleasure half from feigned frustration.

“Yea…yeah…” Patrick finally sighed. All vulnerable. Defenses crumbled. Mine to pillage and desecrate.

“Slut,” I chuckled, barely audible. I knew he heard it by the way he choked out a sob. That sparked in me a deviously brilliant idea.

Still with him inside me, I careened down just enough to wrap both my hands around his throat. With each thrust, I applied more and more pressure to my grip around his throat. Soon he sputtered and coughed, chest heaving as he tried to breathe through his bloodied nose. His eyes were off somewhere distant-like an animal looking at something not there. A ghost. Maybe it was the ghost of who he was before I ruined his facade, tore it down to pieces. Evaporating from his body as he fought for air. I moaned.

From this position, me leaning down, he hit a spot that felt just right. My knees felt weak upon their own accord.

He tried to grab my arms, as if making a move to pry them away. I wouldn’t be having that. I slid my thumbs down to the dip of his windpipe in a silent threat, and he instantly dropped his hands, making the correct and logical choice.

I toyed with him a little, abusing my power over him. I loosened my grasp on his neck completely, letting him get in one shaky, anguished gasp, and then clamped back down again. Upon doing so, he bucked his hips up, consequently getting deeper inside.

I laughed with joyous disbelief. “You-you like being choked? You’re getting off on it?” I guffawed in hilarity from the situation at hand. No pun intended. “What-is it…don’t tell me it’s gonna make you cum, now. That would be mortifying for you.”

“I-I’m-“ he writhed.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes.”

He shook his head meekly. That, or trembled.

“Well hold on, if you would be so kind. I’m get-fuck-I’m getting about there too, but…we wouldn’t want you to become all overstimulated, would we?” I broke out into a broader, toothy grin, “I don’t want you to get hurt, Bateman.”

He whined and whimpered, as if wounded. Which he was. I picked up my pace, managing to rub my clit on his groin every now and again, groaning each time I did so.

Finally. Now I was ready.

“Alright. Whatever. You can cum.” I muttered, syllables asunder, half to myself and half to him. I bared my teeth and growled lowly as I came, mentally releasing something spike-edged and dark in my mind that had been plaguing me for a while. Like admitting something deep to a therapist. I needed this like a salaryman a vacation. Throughout this, I didn’t stop, making Patrick follow rapidly, breathing with loud groans and short, pathetic wails when he came. I had a feeling this release meant something more to him, too. A letting go. Literally.

Eventually, I slowed and gently peeled my hands away from his throat. His inhales were deep and steady, exhales shaky. I pulled off and everything about him went limp, coping with the events. I chuckled inaudibly. I swung my legs off and over the bed, standing up and headed towards the bathroom. I heard no commotion from his room, and after cleaning myself off, I emerged to see him unmoved except for the rising and falling of his chest. I fetched my robe from its crumpled spot on the ground, lithely wrapping it back around me. I went to leave to the kitchen to grab myself a snack, but paused in the doorframe

“Water? Tea?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Are you alive?”

He nodded.

“You’re sure?”

Nodding.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

Very enthusiastic nodding.

I smiled to myself as I left to raid his fridge.

-

End

-

If you made it this far you’re messed up and I love you and we should get married. Repost and comment if you feel inclined.

#patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman smut #American psycho smut #Patrick Bateman fanfiction

[renata-has-thoughts]

[AMERICAN PSYCHO]

Patrick Bateman

>Release^nsfw M4F

[FIGHT CLUB]

Tyler Durden

>Untitled^nsfw M4F

>Maniac^nsfw M4GN

>T-Shirt^nsfw M4GN

>Outlet^nsfw M4F

[HANNIBAL:NBC]

Will Graham

>Eager Compliance^nsfw M4M

[HELLBLAZER]

John Constantine

>Sex Drive^nsfw M4GN

[renata-has-thoughts]

W/c: 1.4k Pairing: Female Reader x Tyler Durden Includes: NSFW, Service dom Tyler, incredibly horny/needy Tyler (couldn’t help myself haha), dubcon b/c drunk Tyler, fingering (reader receiving), dirty talk, Tyler begging, dubcon b/c Tyler begs (but reader is into it), insinuations of oral sex.

A/n: Something short for today. She was yowling while I was writing this I stg. Either ‘version’ of Tyler can be imagined, as I didn’t use physical descriptors for him. Please check the tags, as this is sort of dubious in nature, but both are into it. Irl, don’t do this. Pls. Per usual, no minors (obviously). Enjoy.

You didn’t participate in Fight Club. But dating the founder and leader of it meant you had the general idea of what went down. The rules were easy. Don’t talk about it, two men to a fight, so on and so forth. Another thing you knew: Tyler had gotten into the recent habit of taking a shot for every time he fought during a night of Fight Club prior to coming home for the evening. By that logic, tonight he must’ve been really pent up.

This occurred to you the very second Tyler walked through the door of your shared home. You knew him well, but you didn’t have to have any context to his behavior to know he was more than tipsy. Anyone with eyesight could tell you that.

It must’ve been about eleven or twelve, and you were pouring yourself a glass of water in the kitchen before calling it a night. You heard the clattering of keys from the door, and a muffled curse from a familiar voice. Typical Tyler.

A beat passed, and the blundering idiot finally figured out how to work the keys and get into the house, emerging with a groggy, “Honey, I’m h-home!”

You glanced over your shoulder to see him stumble into the kitchen, and promptly catch himself on the wall.

“Uhm, hi, Tyler,” you said, trying to fight the urge to smile.

“Good…eveni…hi,” he coughed, arching his back against his slumped position on the wall, moaning without shame when he cracked it just right.

From this motion, you could see something obvious. The poor bastard had a raging hard-on.

“Did Fight Club go well?” You asked, forgoing your prior activities to turn and face him, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed.

He didn’t answer for a moment, nodded drearily, then suddenly,

“I’m so fuckin’…hnghh…horny f-for you,” he growled, grimacing as he bucked his hips against nothing.

You raised your eyebrows, giving him an incredulous look, sparing your eyes to dart obviously from his own, to his erection, and back.

“You don’t say.”

“Oh, you’re such a teasee…fuck-you look,” he swallowed harshly, walking unevenly to the scratched-up table a few feet before you which acted as a mock counter island.

“I look…?” You prompted, biting your lip in an effort to not burst out laughing.

“I-fetching,” he managed to get out.

“Fetching?” You clarified. At this point it was getting difficult to not succumb to a fit of giggles. That was a new word for him. And to use it when you’re just in a pair of cotton shorts and some t-shirt?

“I dunno, fuckable, so…hah, so hot,” he sniffed, snatching up a loose pen from the table and proceeding to dance it across his knuckles.

It was a common stim for him-drunk or not-to fiddle with a pen. He was actually rather impressive with it, too. With the way he focused so intently on it at that moment, you felt like he was an exotic bird trying to coax in a mate. A futile display to try and get you to find him more enticing.

“Do you like how my…my fingers work, hmm?” He muttered, sparing a quick look up to your steady gaze on his hands. “Do you like how quick I am with ‘em? You…you wann’em up y-your pussy? Curling and pushing in and out, up ‘n down…in and…fuck.” He dropped the pen and frowned.

You unintentionally got a bit turned on from his murmurs of fingering you, to be honest. He was so desperate for you-his only focus-even subconsciously. The attention made you avert your eyes. Despite his clear desires, he was probably worn out from fighting and shouldn’t worry about fucking you. But you couldn’t help crossing one leg over another.

He took notice of this move, and stepped closer, cornering you against the counter.

“Do you want me? Want me t-to fuck you?” His hips were dangerously close to yours.

“You’re drunk, Tyler,”

“I’m not…’n even if I was, I always wanna fuck you when ‘m so-ngh-…not drunk, too.” He wasn’t wrong in saying that. The man was always horny. He closed the distance and pushed his groin against yours.

Oh, whatever. Damn it all. You threw your head back and moaned. Who wouldn’t?

“Tyler, you-“ you fought one last time, trying to retain some dignity. Deep down, though-in fact, not really deep down at all-you wanted him so bad.

“Please, say yes, ple-pleaasee…” He choked out, dipping his head in proximity to your neck.

“Okay, yeah, but-but just hand stuff-“ you managed before he crashed his lips onto your jawline, kissing and biting with the need of a starved man. He was practically growling with lust.

“We should…go to the bedroom, Ty,”

“N-ngh-noo, lemme take you on the c-counter…” he whined, grumbled against your skin as he continued to mouth all over you.

“Mmm…fine,” you sighed, a small grin on your face as you smoothed out his hair.

With that, he hooked his arms under your knees and hoisted you up onto the counter. You instinctually propped yourself up with your elbows.

Quickly, but clumsily, he slid off your shorts, exposing how wet you already were.

“Y’want my fingers? In you?”

“I said ‘hand stuff’, didn’t I?”

His hands curved up your thighs, pulling them apart so he could have better access to you.

“This ‘s what I’ve wanted all night…” he moaned, fingering along your slit.

“Christ, Tyler..shit!…” you moaned with him, clenching your eyes closed as a result of the stimulation.

“Wan’ my fingers to rub all over your cli-?”

“Yes, Tyler, just, fucking fuck me already!”

“Ahh, that’s what I like…” he growled, pumping two fingers in, easily due to your wetness, letting his thumb rest on your clit.

You mumbled a slurry of ‘yes’s incoherently when he began to thrust his fingers in and out of you, just as he had promised. His thumb inadvertently moved up and down on your clit as a wonderful consequence of his ministrations.

“Mmm, I knew you’d like this..,” Tyler groaned, quickly kissing the inside of one of your thighs as he picked up the pace.

“You’re too damn good, Ty, h-how could I not..?” You stuttered amidst broken noises.

“You think this ‘s good? Just you…heh, just you wait…” he groaned before curling up his fingers with each pump, grazing perfectly over your g-spot every time.

“Oh, Tyler, oh fuck! Yes!” You winced, fighting to keep your eyes from closing shut so you could look down at him.

For a quick beat, he made eye contact with you, and shot you a devious, drunken grin. It was both adorable and also very, very hot.

You barely noticed his erection against one of your legs as he got himself off on it, his small whimpers mixing with yours in harmony.

Somehow, impossibly, he got faster. By nature, you clenched around his fingers, especially as he added a third one with a slight chuckle at your reaction.

“Oh, fuck you, Tyler, you jackass, fuck that-feels-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence when his thumb, already rubbing on your clit, started circling it, too.

“Feels good?”

You nodded with desperate feverence.

By some fantastic talent, he didn’t let up, enjoying your moans and their ever-increasing pitch as he worked at what he was lusting over for so long.

“You gonna cum? Pleaseee tell me your gonna cum, I wanna with you-I wanna cum with you,” he droned, whining.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll cum with you, Tyler, don’t let up,”

“I wasn’t, fuck, I wasn’t planning on it,”

You both moaned loudly, and one of your hands reached over and grabbed his shoulder, digging your nails into it as you came on his fingers. He wasn’t long behind you.

Your orgasm lasted a good amount of time, with Tyler expertly keeping the pace, only slowing down as your orgasm did. You didn’t even notice how he slid his groin off of your leg until it was off.

The first thing you said was with a laugh. “Did you cum in your pants, Tyler?”

“Could you’ve expected m-me not to…?”

His arms hooked under yours and he helped you back up onto your feet, still tingling from the climax.

“Do you wanna take this ‘nto the bedroom?” Tyler asked, still a bit tipsy and trying not to stumble over his words.

“What?”

“Whaddya mean ‘what’? ‘m not done with you,”

You placed your hand in his and bit your lip from a smile, letting him lead you.

“I know you said, l-like, hand stuff ‘n whatever, but…can I use my mouth on you? Please? I’ll be good, ‘n-“

“Yes, Tyler, you can,”

“Thanks.”

You forgot all about the water you originally went in to get.

-

End

-

Reposts and comments are more than appreciated

#tyler durden #Tyler durden smut #tyler durden x reader #the narrator fight club #fight club smut #the narrator x reader

[renata-has-thoughts]

Rules

I have the right to reject requests, although I try to avoid it.

Please refer to ‘read more’ on my main post for the things I’m not willing to write.

Standard respect. I will not tolerate racism, homophobia, anti semitism…you get the point. Do that shit around me and you’re reported and blocked.

I’m fine if those over 16 stumble across my SFW content, but most of my content is far from that, so please acknowledge my boundaries and don’t read or interact with it if you are not 18+.

Do NOT copy my works and post them elsewhere. I have had people do this in the past and it’s infuriating how rude some people are. I put this in my ending notes, but to really drive home this point: steal my works means you get doxed. I don’t make the rules. (jk jk I do)

Information

I strive to be an inclusive writer. Seeing as most if not all of my works will be x reader, I aim to keep the reader’s character vague. I do not have a beta reader, and I may slip up, though I will try to avoid it. Call me out on my bullshit if I do. It’s important for me to learn from my mistakes, as with all x reader authors. (Hint hint: stop saying the reader’s cheeks got red. Jfc.)

But also along those lines, I may write a reader as taller than a specific character. I’m just tall and I’m pissed people always write readers with fuckery like ‘he cornered your small frame’ ??? This will be tagged, though, so as to not catch anyone off guard.

I know I sound mean sometimes, this is just me being protective over my work and setting clear boundaries. I promise that if you’re nice to me and respect me, I will be even nicer to you! I don’t bite…unless if you’re into it, ofc.

[renata-has-thoughts]

W/c: 3.8k Pairing: Top Male reader and bottom Will Graham

Includes: Housewife Will, needy Will, consent, rough/unhinged sex, oral (reader receiving), anal sex, praise, one count a self-indulgent movie ref (guess it and I’ll love you forever), obligatory stag metaphors for Will, brief aftercare, taller reader.

A/n: First post to this account. Will likely post this on ao3, which I’ll link when ready. Feel free to request something, especially seeing as I’m getting my footing with a new blog. This isn’t my best work, I will admit, but it’s something to get started with, y’know? Whatever. Enjoy!

No matter how hard he tried, Will would never be the first welcome you had when you returned home in the evenings. That honor was always taken by your dogs, hoarding around the screen door in a cacophony of yips and barks as a greeting until they flooded around you when the door opened. As they were already in formation the second your tires touched the gravel driveway.

You entered and pet each dog lovingly, soaking up their attention in a reminder of the safety and warmth of your home. This homemaking was mostly credited to Will, though. He was the doting stay-at-home husband after all. With your salary, you could support both of you easily, lending Will to pick up the domestic responsibilities, which he absolutely loved. What he wouldn’t say is just how much pride it brought him being your husband. Being the one standing so patiently in the entryway behind the dogs, ever awaiting you.

After giving each of the dogs their share of affection, you smiled brightly at Will and he approached you, mirroring your expression.

“Good evening,” He said, your proximity shrinking as he stepped before you. He leaned his head up-you being taller than him-to kiss you quickly and softly. In the process he loosened your tie for you. You frowned teasingly when he drew away.

“Good evening to you, too, love. That’s all you’re gonna give me?” You joked, grabbing his waist with one hand.

“I guess I can provide some more,” He shrugged, mocking nonchalantly. He assumed the same tip-toed stance, closing his eyes to let you press your lips into his in a kiss that was longer. Your noses bumped briefly-Will giggling at that-before sliding side by side as your tongue entered his mouth. While you did that, your other hand grabbed right below his ass to lift him closer to you, resulting in a hummed noise from the back of his throat. You pulled your mouth away from his, noticing his intention to speak.

“Is it that kind of night?” Will asked, referring to your promiscuous actions.

You pressed your forehead against his, smiling in the face of his curiosity.

“Later.” You responded, then let go of him slowly to turn around to the coat and shoe rack, doffing either articles while you heard Will return back to the kitchen on whatever he had planned.

That was the other thing about Will’s role. Given he’s been in it for almost a year now, he’s rendered himself an excellent cook, often preparing his own catches from the river. Something about that was so wholesome to you.

“What’s for dinner?” You asked, making a beeline for your designated recliner in the living room.

“Something new,” Will called out. You could hear the sizzling of food from where you were, a promising noise that made your mouth water. You picked up the remote to flick aimlessly around stations, the smallest of your dogs finding a place on your lap as you did so.

An overwhelming feeling of gratitude washed through you. Wonderful dogs, a fulfilling job, a smart and beautiful husband, a cozy home, how could you have been so lucky? You stroked one of your many dogs’s fur absentmindedly as you reminisced.

You ended up on an early 60s comedy movie, and finished your search to sit back and watch. It was some satire on war with Slim Pickens as a supporting character, which didn’t really narrow it down at all. As obscure as it was, it was something to pass the time while you awaited dinner. You became aware of how hungry you were, and you picked up on the shuffling of footsteps in the dining room before Will had even called you in. The dog on your lap sprang up as she heard Will return to the kitchen, which you laughed at. Will insisted on feeding the dogs before you both ate. Otherwise the younger, more rambunctious ones had a tendency to beg.

You smiled, hearing Will’s coos and praise towards the dogs as he filled their bowls, the clattering of kibble into metal another melody of home.

Soon enough, you felt Will’s hands on your shoulders over the recliner, kneading slowly as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I didn’t know you liked Kubrick,” he mused, referring to the movie.

“I didn’t even know it was him. Just channel surfing, y’know?” You replied, reaching your hand to clasp his, “are you a fan of him?”

“Not exactly. I just movie hopped a lot when I was younger. During the summers I’d buy a ticket to one movie early in the morning, then spend the rest of the day sneaking into others,” he explained softly, tracing circles on the exposed skin above your shirt collar, “I became well acquainted with different directors and actors that way.”

“Look at you, Will, such a mischievous boy,” you teased, turning your head up to look into his eyes with a glimmer of humor.

“Yeah, I was a real delinquent,” he played along, both hands moving to cradle your face. “Dinners ready.”

You slipped out of his grasp and stood up, stretching off the weight of the work day, and followed him to the dining room. The evening sun was setting outside the window, caressing the treeline. It made the already autumn-crimson trees more aflame and golden. You felt its warmth on your back as you sat down on your end of the table, watching Will retrieve a serving bowl from the kitchen and return with it, the contents steaming.

“I decided to try something different tonight,” he explained, setting the bowl on the table before scooping some vegetable stir fry onto your plate.

“This looks delicious, sweetheart,” you said earnestly, eyes still fixated on him as he served himself and sat down. The sunlight complimented him in a way that was, for lack of a more powerful word, ethereal. “So do you.” You added.

The lighting did no good in hiding his flushed face, even as he distracted himself by pouring a glass of wine. Unspokenly, he passed it to you after, you purposefully grazing his fingers as you took it from him in a lingering touch.

His reddened face persisted. It was adorable how you could keep him so flustered after years of being together. His beauty still amazed you, too.

Dinner proceeded. You made it a point to groan and almost exaggerate your head tipping back as you took your first bite of the stir fry.

“God damn, you know how to cook,” you sighed. Will chuckled into his wine.

“Thank you,” was all he mustered.

When you first met him, he had no comfortable affability. He never would’ve laughed at an offhand compliment. You were proud of how much you’d changed him for the better, or rather, he allowed himself to be vulnerable and genuine around you. Either way, you loved each other.

“How was work?” Will asked, initiating a routine evening conversation.

“Same old, same old,” you shrugged. “Did I tell you I changed my work computer’s wallpaper to Macey?”

You could hear Macey’s collar jingle from the living room, like she perked up from hearing her name.

“Do they let you change your wallpapers there? I thought they didn’t like that.” Will asked.

“They don’t.” You clarified, exchanging a sly smile between one another.

“My husband…is such a law-breaker,” Will joked between sips of wine.

“You know it,” you responded, letting a gentle silence fill the room as you both continued with your meals. A minute passed, and you added, “how was your day?”

“Good. I painted the west side of the fence out front, it was getting a little worn.”

“I noticed, it looks a lot better.”

“Yeah. I had a coupon for the hardware store from buying all those nails to fix the shed roof last season, and figured I’d put it to good use.”

“Nice going, honey. But don’t ever feel like you need to cut corners in expenses. I’ve got us both covered.”

“I know, I’m just not used to it, even after all this time.”

By then both your forks were crossed over empty plates, and Will made a move to get up, but you gestured for him to stay down.

“I’ve got the dishes. Take the wine and I’ll meet you on the porch, alright?” You assured, standing and stacking your plates.

“You’re too good to me.” Will sighed, taking the glasses and half-finished wine.

You kissed his forehead, and mumbled, “no, you’re too good to me.”

-

By the time you joined Will on the porch, the sun had set completely. You wiped your sink-damp hands on your slacks and slid next to him on the bench, naturally slinging your arm over his shoulder. In your other hand, you took the wine glass he offered you with a small ‘thanks’.

There was no light pollution this far out of town. Even with lingering rays just over the horizon, the stars were already visible. You knew all the constellations in the sky because of Will.

Neither of you made a rush to start a conversation, which meant it was completely silent outside. There were rarely ever cars out here, and when there were, they were too far away to be loud.

You didn’t always need words to bond. Wine and crisp autumn air was all that was required.

His head rested on your shoulder, and you pulled him closer. He was warm against the slightly chilly wind. The hand he wasn’t holding his wine with found purchase on your knee, gently inching upwards, massaging.

He had gotten to your thigh, and you muttered, albeit playfully, “you’re playing a dangerous game, love.”

“I don’t mind a risk,” he shot back with an equally low tone.

“Is that so?” You said, and when he didn’t respond, “be careful of what you wish for.”

Gently, you took his wine glass from him and set both yours and his on the outdoor table of your side. His eyes keenly observed your movements, more like a conscious stag than a scared one.

You met such lovely doe eyes and drew him flush to your side with both arms, right hand on his lower back like a warning, left hand on his chin-index finger below, thumb atop-tilting it upwards. You kissed the spot of his neck, just below his ear, just below his jawline, and he had no chance to stifle a downright sluttily abhorrent moan. You felt his skin heat up with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t you ever fucking apologize for turning me on.” You whispered back against the shell of his ear. With that kind of reinforcement, he let go of any shame and rutted against you.

“I-I think we should take this inside, please,” Will requested. While you wouldn’t mind the slight chance of the world seeing you make love to him, you understood and respected that he was a bit shy of anything past holding hands in public, let alone moaning outwardly into the night sky.

“Of course, dear,” you agreed, making your way inside, holding the door for him. The dogs were asleep, so you had no roadblocks crossing the house to the bedroom.

Once the bedroom door was closed behind Will, you took either of his hands in yours and pushed your body weight against him, pinning him to the door.

Now he looked like a deer in headlights.

You could feel his erection against your inner thigh, just below your own.

“Fuck, I could devour you, Will,” you groaned, nipping along his neck. He emitted a series of uncontrolled lewd whimpers, his head thrashing to the side in an unconscious move of submission.

“You’re such a pretty boy, ‘m so grateful to call you my husband, not a day goes by where you aren’t beautiful,” you rambled, breathing hotly into his neck, heaving with soft moans, “I love you in ways I can’t articulate, Will, and by god I need to fuck you until you quite literally can’t anymore,” you kissed his throat, “until you say stop, that you’re shaking,” you licked along part of his jawline, “until you’re crying with lust,” you bit his lower lip, “until-“

“I know, I get it, please,” Will cried, and you prevented him from saying any more by licking your lips then crushing them over his, wasting no time lifting his head up and shoving your tongue down into his mouth. He eagerly took it in like the compliant husband he was. Equally lovable and needy.

He really didn’t have much room to move in the position you had him in, but enough to use the door as leverage to slide up impossibly closer, frotting each other. You retracted your tongue from practically down his throat to moan.

“You want it that badly? How do you want it?” You groaned. Will looked away, and said just barely audibly,

“I want to be used, l-like a whore…”

“Fuuuck…” was all you could drone. Will was especially hot when he let down all defenses like this.

Your self control couldn’t be supported any longer. With your hands in his, you staggered back so you were sitting on the edge of the bed and he was in front of you.

“Knees.” You mustered, letting go of his hands to undo your belt. He obeyed, making quick work of removing his shirt and undoing his own belt all before you took off yours. Your belt ended up somewhere behind you on the bed, and your shirt was unbuttoned all the way. You went to unzip your pants, but thought better of it. Your hands slid over to Will’s head, taking hold of his hair and guiding his head to the fly of your jeans.

“Unzip it with your mouth.” You ordered. You held back the need to thrust towards the heat source of his mouth when he did as you asked, taking the zipper between his teeth and dragging it down slowly, his clouded eyes meeting yours through his lashes. You swore under your breath, fighting to keep your composure. Will went the extra mile and gripped the sides of your thighs, putting pressure and sliding his hands down, with it your slacks, until they were around your ankles. You shook it off to the side, and tilted Will’s face up to yours.

“So good for me,” you muttered, barely audible.

Your dick felt hot and confined still in your boxers, and Will held up a hand, hovering above the waist band, wordlessly asking permission. Again, keeping yourself from losing it, you nodded briefly. He eagerly hooked a finger inside, and dragged it down until you could kick it off your ankles.

The exposure of your dick only made things worse for your composure. You wanted to fuck him right then and there, no hesitation. You breathed shakily in, and asked,

“How much can you take or want, love?” You pushed some of his hair aside in a tranquil display of affection, despite the situation. Will’s eyes never left yours as he gazed up, sitting obediently between your legs, bare chest heaving, face dangerously close to where it felt like all the blood in your body was rushing to.

“I’ve had this-“ Will began, and mouthed around inaudible words before continuing, “-want, as I stated earlier…uh-I want you to use me. Not necessarily in a gentle way. If it so pleases you, I-“

“Spit it out, Will,”

“Fuck, okay. I want…I need you to choke me with your dick. Fuck my head until I’m drunk on you,” one of his hands palmed his erection, clearly finding pleasure in everything he said, “p-please, down my throat, even if I gag or cry, oh, shit, please,”

“As you wish, pretty boy.”

With both your hands on either side of his head, you rammed your hard cock into his mouth, moaning unabashedly loud at how hot he was. Will, although muffled, moaned nearly as loud, relishing your dick already down his throat.

“Tap my thighs if you can’t take it,” you ordered, and with the ground rules set, roughly began thrusting into him. You moved his head with your thrusts, feeling your body spark every time he groaned.

“Yes, oh god, yes,” you growled, speed increasing with animalistic tendency.

Will’s moans were unpredictable and frequent in between a few suppressed choking sounds. He inhaled sharply through his nose, eyes fluttering and struggling to stay on yours. Your husband looked ruined already. His hands rested on your thighs, and you slowed, furrowing your brow as if to ask if he was alright, but he shook his head and pushed it back around you, with a raspy voice, “more.” It was a high-pitched beg, a carnal desire vocalized.

Any restraint you harbored broke with an echoing snap in your mind.

You were brutal, each thrust milliseconds apart. He hollowed out his cheeks, making every move tight, warm and wet. It was all a blur, and when your head wasn’t thrown back with the weight of low moans, you met his pliant eyes. They were beginning to water, matching the gloss of his spit-covered lips sealed around you. His nails were digging into your thighs, the only thing keeping him grounded while you fucked him without anything merely resembling mercy.

“Damn, you feel p-perfect…shit…” you breathed between noises of pleasure. “I should’ve known you were such a whore, needing to be put i-in your place like a slut.”

A tear escaped from one of his eyes, trailing down to his chin before multitudes more followed. His fingers splayed and anchored on your thighs gripped harder.

“Oh, that’s it, show me how fucking,” you inhaled sharply, “-fucking ruined I’ve made you.”

You were so hazed over in the bliss you couldn’t even tell how his whimpers got louder, only halting when he tapped your thighs. Your hands on his head loosened, guiding him off gently.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, shit, are you alr-?” You began, worried for him, suddenly concerned.

“-I was about to cum,” Will interrupted in a whisper.

“Speak up, love, I can’t-“

“I was gonna cum.” He said louder, avoiding your gaze. He was humiliated.

You faltered. Hesitated. It was quiet for a beat.

“You were about to cum without your dick even being so much as touched? Do I have that right?” You clarified, opting to tease him darkly.

He could only nod.

“Well, I don’t want to waste that. Neither of us do, correct? Let me make you orgasm properly. I think you’ve earned it.”

He nodded again, this time with more force.

“On the bed.” You ordered. He rose off his knees, but you pushed him back down by his shoulders, and added, “climb onto it, like you’re desperate.”

He whimpered. He obeyed, crawling onto the bed beside you, quickly assuming position in the middle, sprawled out and panting as he waited impatiently.

You sat before him, hands swiftly gripping his calves and tugging off his sweatpants, with the force of nearly tearing them, and grinned when you saw he was already halfway to cumming, per say. Part of you couldn’t tease him. You loved him, after all, and he looked so pitiful and pained like this.

“Legs over my shoulders, doll,” you moaned, grabbing your dick and giving it another few pumps, secretly enjoying the faux lube of his spit still all over it.

He seemed to really like that idea, and pushed himself closer to you, begging something unintelligible while he hoisted his legs to rest on your shoulders.

Fuck it. No more foreplay.

You thrust into his ass at once, your teeth clashing together and eyes tightening when the pleasure enveloped you so suddenly. Will was worse at hiding this, easily devolving back into a noisy and compliant mess.

“That’s it, I know you can take it…take it…” you groaned.

He swore uncontrollably under his breath, some clear ‘shit’, ‘damn’, and ‘fuck’s, others complete blabbered nonsense, seeing as you were, well, fucking him senseless.

You underestimated how turned on using him would get you. It was like your body was overtaken by the force of a rabid beast, craving nothing but Will. Your gorgeous, submissive husband, still wearing his wedding band through all of this. You moaned when you thought of that. Him being yours. You still weren’t used to the honor.

Your hands gripped the sides of his hips, slamming him into you, as you did he, with sloppy but precise pacing.

“Made for me, made for me, fucking made for me,” you repeated like a perverted mantra. You caught a small ‘made for you,’ whispered from Will.

You took one of your hands off his hips and slid it down onto his own dick, chuckling at how hot it was. Your strokes on him were languid in contrast to how ruthlessly you were taking him.

There was no doubt in your mind he wasn't appreciative of you jacking him off during what was already a pleasing experience, seeing as he was moaning to the volume of near-screams.

“Oh please, oh please, I’m gonna cum! Please! Please!” Will cried.

“Go for it. I-I’m gonna cum with you, alright? Let’s…Let's cum with each other. Can you-can you do that?” You mustered amidst your deep, all-consuming thrusts.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck yes, I’ll cum with you! I’ll-I’ll-!” His voice rendered into a gasp and loud, shaky moan as he shuddered and came, open-mouthed with his head thrown back. He was as good as dead to the world, his cum covering your hand and parts of his lower stomach.

You weren’t long after him, seizing and cumming with deep, sporadic slams inside him. You fucked yourself through every last second of your orgasm, feeling your head spin. All you could think of was ‘mine, Will, mine,’ repeated in succession in your head. Bliss. In its purest form.

You tried not to collapse on top of him, crushing him, but despite your best efforts you were spent.

“Fuck.” Was all you grunted, catching your breath before lifting yourself up and out of Will. “You alright?”

“More than,” Will sighed, eyes dreary, but content.

“Stay put, alright? I’ll get you a towel.” You said, getting up off the bed, paying a glance and smiling over to him.

“I don’t think I can move for the rest of the night, so don’t worry about me going off anywhere. I love you.” He returned your smile, and promptly closed his eyes to drift off into much needed sleep.

-

Even though you guessed he couldn’t hear you, when you returned to clean him up, you chastely kissed his forehead and returned the declaration of love in a lithe whisper.

-

End

-

Reposts and comments make me hard fr

#will graham #will graham x reader #will graham smut #will Graham/reader

[renata-has-thoughts]

// Eighteen. Female, but either sex is included. Fan fiction author and occasional fandom blogger. [I’m nowhere near new to tumblr. I have used and posted on this website since I was roughly fifteen, so I know a decent amount about this hellsite. I wanted a fresh start, however, so I decided to rebrand and create linked ao3-tumblr accounts to pour my heinous thoughts into. Speaking of, my content will be primarily NSFW. Therefore, I kindly ask all minors to leave. And before you ask, yes, I am that cringey person that writes x reader.]

>Regulations regarding me and my works

>Requests are OPEN. [generally I keep ‘drabbles’ around 100-500 words.]

>Fanfiction Masterlist

!! Fandoms I write for and my rules under the cut.

Characters I write for

[American Psycho] Patrick Bateman

[Blade Runner 2049] Joi

[Blade Runner 2049] K

[Daredevil, Comics+Show] Matt Murdock

[Don’t Worry Darling] Alice

[Fight Club, Book+Movie] The Narrator

[Fight Club, Book+Movie] Tyler Durden

[Hannibal, NBC] Hannibal Lecter

[Hannibal, NBC] Will Graham

[Hellblazer, comics] John Constantine

[Jennifer’s Body] Jennifer Check

[John Wick] John Wick

[Moon Knight, Comics] All of the MK system

[Nightcrawler] Louis Bloom

[Re-Animator, Movie] Herbert West

[Riddler, Comics+2022 Movie] Edward Nashton

Ask!!!

Won’t write: p3d0philia/ageplay (wtf), other…bodily fluids (besides blood, tears, and the obvious), animals in NSFW(wtf), incest.