#And the outsides of his knuckles are usually rough | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 8 months

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Bombshell reader is my queen. What would happen if she like got hold hostage or something? She’s usually so confident, I’m sure going thru that would rough her up. Would Spencer take up the more ‘active’ role and take care of her

tysm for requesting ♡ fem, 1k

Spencer doesn't know if you're aiming for him when you come out but he grabs you as soon as he can get his hands on you. You were running hard enough to wind him, breathless yourself as you gasp into his shoulder. He can't feel you right wearing the FBI vest, desperate to take it off.

You won't let him go.

It must've been bad inside to panic you like this. "Are you okay?" he asks, forcing you away to check you over. "Do you need medical?" He's mildly hysterical.

"No," you say, eyes closed, shaking your head until he lets you back into his arms. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine–"

"Spencer, I'm fine."

Spencer can't remember the last time you called him Spencer. He's used to Spence, babe, baby, handsome. He's even used to your hand on his elbow to say hello without speaking. So no matter what you say, he knows you're not fine.

Spencer leads you over to the back of an ambulance, where you glare at him. You've definitely never done that before.

"I don't need medical–"

"You have to get checked out." He's definitely never spoken to you like that. Terse, his hands on your arms to stop you from getting up. "Non-negotiable."

Your eyes shine with betrayal while the EMTs check your vitals. You have a bruise like whiplash against your neck that's tender to the touch, wincing as they prod it with their white gloved fingers. You're acting peculiarly but not outside of the realm of reasonable.

A car backfires somewhere in the street and you flinch. "Spence," you say, looking up at him through your lashes, "can we go?"

He waits for a nod. "Yeah, we can go."

The issue is that you can't stand. You push up, you blink, and you sit down hard again, making a small pained sound from the back of your throat that Spencer cant abide by. "What's wrong with her?" he asks.

"Adrenaline." The EMT squeezes your shoulder affectionately. "You're alright, hun. You can sit here until you feel ready."

She and her partner take a break in the front of the ambulance and tell you to shout if you need help. Spencer hesitates for a few seconds, looking down at you with a quick assessment of behaviour. He finds the things that are wrong with you —shaking hands, painful contusion against your throat, obvious emotional distress, weak legs— and he runs through options on how he's going to help you.

Spencer takes your hands into his, just a little smaller, less skinny, and way softer. He doesn't know whether he can truly smell your hand cream or if he knows the scent from the hundreds of times watching your routine. You take it from the pocket in your purse, squeeze the smallest bit from the tub, and rub it in slow circles around your palms. It calms you in your rare wounded moments, and Spencer imitates that now. He draws gentle circles into your skin, the tremble ever so slightly quelled.

"Is it bad?" he asks you, transferring both of your hands into one. Freed, he trails the knuckles of his left hand parallel to your wicked bruise.

"It hurts." Your eyes are glassy, your lips in a downturn that turns his heart. "Hurt my ego."

"He got a cheap shot," Spencer says sympathetically, dipping forward to kiss your jaw just above the bruise. You go still. He worries it was the wrong thing to do, but you crane your head forward into his chest.

Your tired sigh is like a rake.

"It's okay. It's okay." He takes your hand again. "We'll ice it at the hotel. With arnica, it'll be gone in a week."

"I was really scared," you murmur.

Sitting as you are in the back of the ambulance, he doesn't have to bend much to press your joined hands to his chest. Eyes shut, that close to one another, Spencer swears he can hear your rapid heart.

"But you made it out. You're always going to make it out, because we have a great team and you're good at what you do. You're strong. Smart. And you're brave, because you got scared and you kept going anyway. You saved someone just now."

You push him away without malice, your perfect eyebrows pinched up at the starts. "I thought maybe this time I wouldn't make it out. Not like me, huh?"

Spencer sits next to you in the ambulance, sliding his fingers into yours with more confidence than he feels. "That's easily explainable. Do you know what working memory is?"

Your stress melds fond. "No."

"Working memory is one of the brain's systems necessary for thought and function. It's important for everything. And when you're under immense pressure, the strength of your working memory depletes– being in a high stakes situation like that, it's natural to choke. It doesn't mean you underperformed. It doesn't mean you let anyone down."

"I never said I let someone down."

"I worried you were thinking about it."

"I was." Your glassy eyes have clarified. Spencer lets out a breath of relief as you raise your hand to his cheek, stroking it briefly with the back of your fingers. "I'm glad you think that, but I doubt Hotch will say the same thing."

"Hotch will tell you well done and make you take mandatory leave for a week. We should regroup with the others." Spencer nudges you in the arm. "I'll write your paperwork if you tell me what to say."

You drop your face into his shoulder. "I'm recovering from a traumatic event. Can't you do the muscle work?"

"Y/N!" Hotch calls, a phone glued to his ear. "Well done. Nothing else tonight." You smile. "You can do the paperwork when you get back next week."

"Ugh."

"Told you. Well done, mandatory leave," Spencer says.

"Excessive," you mutter into his arm. It takes you a few seconds to warm up, and when you do it's like groundhog day, sunshine filtering through the chill, "Thanks, handsome. For everything."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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brittscafe · 6 months

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Choso Kamo Headcanons

Synopsis: SFW and NSFW Headcanons. Choso Kamo x female reader.

SFW:

My poor baby is so touch deprived :(

He craves the warmth of your hands on his face or really anywhere.

Whenever your hands cup his cheeks, thumb brushing over his skin, he melts.

Choso leans into your touch, closing his eyes and letting out a heavy sigh.

He'll just collapse in your arms, head nuzzling into your chest and his arms secured around your waist.

You'll struggle to breath when he's crushing, whispering that he's too heavy.

Choso smiles against your chest and closes his eyes, saying that he's so comfortable.

Choso falls asleep quickly, especially when your fingers comb through his face or stroke his face tenderly.

In reality, Choso isn't really asleep, he's just off in another world, relaxing and relishing in your touch.

Choso doesn't really need sleep.

Choso watches you when you sleep and not in a creepy stalker way.

His eyes rake over your body, the way your chest goes up and down with each breath.

His hand runs over the curve of your body if you sleep on your side.

He'll usually sit on the edge of the bed, wishing you goodnight and watching you fade away.

If Choso has time, he'll cuddle with you until you fall asleep.

Hands flattened over your stomach and your back pressed up against his chest.

He likes to spoon you, but he likes to guide your head onto his chest sometimes, it makes him feel more secure.

Choso will stay awake, on guard and pressing featherlight kisses along your skin.

He loves to hold your hands and press soft kisses to the back of your palms.

He adores it when you play with his hair or style it.

He loves showing his hair off and cannot stop talking about what a good job you did.

His kisses are messy 😩

Choso's kisses may be messy, but they are super good.

Like he just kisses you out of nowhere on straight impulse.

His warm lips rolling against yours, heart pounding against his chest as he craves more of you.

Choso's eyes roll into the back of his head when you kiss his neck or kiss his abs.

His cheeks fluster when you lean in closer to place a kiss on his cheek.

If you compliment him when he's hair down, he'll start to wear it down more just bc you like it.

He'll patiently sit outside the dressing room, waiting to see what new clothes you're trying on.

Calls you sweetheart.

You can make him so nervous sometimes, his stomach doing flips and his breath hitching in his throat.

He's just sooo soft and cute.

He expresses how much he loves you all the time.

Whispering it in your ear before you fall asleep, cuddling on the couch and just blurting it out, literally anytime.

NSFW:

He loves it when you edge him, stroking his cock ever so slowly.

Salty tears will slide his face and he'll beg for you to make him cum.

Choso can't help the moans and whimpers leaving his mouth as your walls squeeze around his length.

He tries to be quiet, burying his head into your neck, kissing and sucking on the skin.

It works, but never for too long.

Choso loves having you on top, sinking down onto his cock.

Whenever Choso feels the blood rushing to cock and he wants you, he's super shy about it.

Let's you ride his abs and get off on them.

If you're cuddling, he'll tug on your clothes and you'll turn, seeing the desperate look in his eyes.

Choso is gentle and soft during sex, but there are times when he can rough.

You see the darkness form in his eyes, his hips starting to slam into yours, definitely going to leave leave bruises in the morning.

Choso just loves to hear the way you moan and scream when his cock hits that sweet spot of yours.

It just makes him cum even faster, hearing you cry out his name.

Choso has a hidden fear of hurting you, especially in the act bc he can get carried away.

He is always making sure you okay, knuckles running over your cheek or eyes soft, full of love.

Choso loves it when you praise him, his cheeks fluster and he'll even cum faster.

His aftercare is super sweet.

He asks you at least a million times if you're okay or if you need anything.

He'll run his hands over your waist, lifting you onto his chest and speaking ever so softly so that you fall asleep to the sound of his voice.

Of course, Choso loves it when you take care of him afterwards.

Hands running up and down his back, fingers brushing through his hair, or whispering sweet praises.

He'll pretend to fall asleep in your comfortable arms just bc he feels so relaxed and safe.

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amhrosina · 10 months

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Be My Baby

Summary: Frank takes you on a weekend trip to his cabin after you have a rough week at work. Your first stop? The enormous bathtub with enough room for soooo many activities.

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k

masterlist // join my taglist // follow me on instagram & ao3

a/n: hello! i'm back! my personal life is still a wreck but i missed writing for frank. this is probably the most self indulgent fic i've ever written lol it is quite literally the most ooey-gooey romantic plot before the softest smut imaginable. what can i say? i'm a hoe for soft frank. enjoy & thank you to the nonnie that requested something similar to this!

warnings: softest smut imaginable, fluff to the max, 'i'm an asshole to everyone except you' trope, a teensy little bit of crybaby reader if you squint, frank would burn the world for reader, reader is sOoOoO in love with frank (who isn't??), they're both a little wrapped up in each other's world and don't give a shit about what's happening outside of them type of vibes, pet names, etc.

From what you had seen, Frank’s cabin was cozy and warm, but since your arrival half an hour ago, you’d only had the luxury of soaking in the tub while Frank took care of unloading the car. He’d insisted on doing it alone, claiming his girl shouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything, and honestly after the week you’d had, you were temporarily glad he was as stubborn as a mule. You were sure that sentiment would fade the next time you were feeling bratty, but for now, you tried your best to relax and forget what an awful week it had been at work.

The heat of the bath water sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine, enticing a low groan from your lips. Sinking further into the water, you realized just how big the tub was. It stretched at least six feet across and was almost deep enough to stand, clearly a custom made feature of the cabin. You supposed Frank probably needs the room, being as large a man as he is. Still, it felt like you were in a luxurious hot tub, rather than a regular bathtub.

“There’s a button to turn on the jets if you want ‘em.”

Frank’s gentle voice carried across the bathroom, startling you from your relaxed state. You hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned, eyeing his powerful figure as he made his way toward you and sat on the edge of the tub. It was easy to get lost in the way he moved, and you tried your best to not stare at the muscles straining against the black longsleeve he was wearing.

“You okay?” He asked, reaching out to softly run his knuckles along the curve of your damp cheek. He was always gentle with you, but the desire to take care of you was even more present in his eyes than usual. It really had been a shitty week.

“This place is amazing.” You said in awe, turning your face away to hide your grin. His hand, already knowing what you were trying to do, softly gripped your jaw and turned it back to face him.

“You barely saw the place.” He chuckled.

“Whose fault is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him and sat up, fully exposing your bare chest to him. His eyes briefly flicked down to your nipples, hardening as the cool air touched them, before returning his gaze upwards. “Get in. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

He nodded and stood, but began walking in the opposite direction of the bath. You furrowed your brow, watching him tug his shirt off and throw it on the counter. When he saw your expression, he grinned.

“Hang on. I brought something for you.”

“What do you mean?” You called after him, but he was already moving again.

He disappeared through the doorway, generating even more confusion, before returning with an assembly of things tucked under his arms. You watched as he worked his way around the room, placing various objects here and there until finally he flicked off the lights and turned to face you again.

The room was now aglow with flickering candle light, coating Frank’s looming figure in a warm haze. He’d gone for mostly unscented, knowing how strong smells could give you headaches, but had left in a few lavender candles because he knew how much it relaxed you. He also managed to sneak an entire bottle of champagne into the car without you noticing, of which he was pouring into two flutes. You blinked back tears as he handed you your glass, unable to express how warm your chest felt at the effort he was putting in to make you feel better.

“Frank.” You murmured, smiling bashfully, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“‘s what you deserve.” He shrugged, stepping out of the rest of his clothes.

He sank into the tub next to you, tugging your body against his in a swift motion. He sat with his back against the edge, allowing you to easily settle your knees on either side of his thighs, facing him in the dim room. You sat just a little taller than him at this angle - chest pressed against his warm skin, arms resting on his broad shoulders - and God, he looked divine. The drive had taken a few hours, just long enough for the stubble to return to his cheeks after this morning’s shave, giving him a rugged look that you thought was just so handsome. You were unable to resist the temptation of running your nails over it in a soft scratch, eliciting a groan from deep in Frank’s chest. The rumble reverberated through your chest as you pressed yourself fully against him, seeking more of his affection. He tugged your head down onto his shoulder and began running his fingers along the base of your neck in a soothing pattern.

“You never answered my question earlier.” He murmured, resting his jaw against your head. “You okay, sweet girl?”

You sighed, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment as you mulled over your feelings. You were a sensitive soul to begin with, and your boss had been on edge all morning when he finally snapped at you for something you had no control over, which ultimately had you tearing up for the rest of the day. When you’d walked through the door crying, Frank’s eyes flashed violently between anger at your boss and sympathy for you. The sympathy had won, and now you were in a beautiful cabin in upstate New York, wrapped in his strong arms. Still, you weren’t sure how you were going to deal with your boss’ temper when you returned to work on Monday.

“I don’t know,” you finally replied, shrugging, “Can you ask me again later?”

You felt his cheeks widen into a small grin. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Don’t think I won’t.” He teased, calling you on your avoidant tendencies before you could even notice them yourself.

“How long have you had this place?” You wondered, nuzzling into his heated skin.

“I bought it a few months after Maria and the kids.” He said softly, almost whispering when he had to relay his wife’s name aloud. “Thought maybe I was done with the city. Change can be good, ya’ know?”

“But you came back.” You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look him in the eyes.

“But I came back.” He parroted, nodding. “And then I met you.”

“And you stayed.” You finished for him.

“Of course I stayed. Couldn’t leave you behind, sweet girl. ‘ve been sweet on you since the day I met you.”

This was true. From the moment you’d met, he’d been nothing but gentle and kind toward you. You had no idea, of course, that this type of behavior was incredibly far away from Frank Castle’s usual attitude until you’d met Matt Murdock, who was so shocked at Frank’s subdued personality and general softness around you that Frank had to physically close Matt’s gaping jaw for him.

“But you never sold the place?” You questioned.

“I figured we might need somewhere to run away to every once in a while. Are you mad that I didn’t tell you about it before today? I wanted it to be a surprise.”

For a moment, he looked genuinely worried that he might’ve upset you.

“How could I be mad when I’m sitting in this enormous tub, surrounded by candles and champagne, pressed up against the man of my dreams?”

He smiled then, and you could tell it was a genuine smile because of the way his cheeks dimpled at the corner of his laugh lines. It was an award winning smile, you thought. You gently set the empty champagne glasses on the edge of the tub before cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“My Frankie,” you mumbled, running your thumbs across his cheekbones, “What would I do without you?”

You really hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but every time you looked at him, you felt yourself being pulled closer and closer to him. His compassion and kindness toward you, even after everything he’d been through, was something you couldn’t avoid leaning into. All your life you’d been taking care of others, and finally, here was someone begging to take care of you.

“You don’t have to worry about that, okay? ’m here to stay.” He mumbled, bringing the pads of your fingertips to his lips for individual, soft kisses. “I love you, and ‘m gonna take care of you forever.”

Tears welled in your eyes as an overwhelming rush of emotion passed over you. In your arms was a man that should’ve been bitter and angry at the world around him. He had earned the right to become spiteful and hardened, and no one could fault him for that. And yet - and yet - in your arms was a man that loved you with his entire being. Who understood you at your core, saw the dark parts of you, and loved those parts even more. Who was soft for no one but you. Who you loved, too.

A tear slid down your cheek as you kissed him, long and slow and sensual because you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He smiled into the kiss, cradling your head with his beautiful, calloused hands. It wasn’t enough. You needed his gentle touch everywhere. Pressing yourself against him, you felt yourself sliding along his achingly hard cock, raising the already warm temperature in the room to searing. Heat pulsed between your legs, begging to be touched.

“My pretty girl,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth before following the curve of your jawline to your neck, “My pretty, sensitive girl.”

The praise made your head swim. You rocked your hips again, sliding along his length until you were hovering directly over him, waiting for the go ahead to sink down. He grunted, pressing open mouthed kisses up your throat before coaxing your hips lower and lower. You gasped when he finally pushed into you, and Frank took the opportunity to lick the inside of your gaping mouth as he did so. You shuttered against him, wanting everything he had to offer and more.

“P-please, Frankie.” You murmured, arching your back as he bucked his hips upwards.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He breathed, wrapping one of his enormous hands around the back of your head, forcing you to look down at him as you rode him. His other arm was wrapped around your torso, tugging your hips forward and back to stimulate your clit against the base of his cock. It was such an erotic way to be held that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. He leaned his head against your forehead and kissed the tears that made their way down your flushed skin. “Tell me, sweet girl.”

“I l-love you.” You purred, stuttering as he made his way down your body, kissing everywhere he could reach. When he got to your pebbled nipples, you sucked in a sharp breath. He knew exactly how to get you off, and he was staring right at them.

“I love you too, pretty girl.” He grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to each of your nipples, eliciting a pornographic moan from deep in your chest.

He continued to push and pull your hips in a steady rhythm, grinding your clit against his pelvis as you bounced up and down his length. Slowly, in a teasing manner that had a new wave of fresh, needy tears streaming down your cheeks, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive nub. You whined with impatience as he pulled away, only to offer the same kitten lick to your other breast. You knew he would take care of you like he always did, but his teasing was making your entire body tremble with anticipation.

“I know, I know,” he cooed, kissing the valley between your breasts, “‘t’s okay, baby. Be patient. I’ll take care of you.”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a mewl. You felt the hand Frank had been using to hold your head steady loosen its grip, and suddenly, he was softly wiping the tears away from under your eyes with his thumbs.

“You’re doing so good for me, bunny.” He murmured, and you very nearly came at the pet name he loved to praise you with. “‘m gonna make you feel real good, okay?”

“Please,” you begged, digging your fingers into his shoulders, “Need you.”

That was all it took for Frank to finally snap. In one swift motion, he wrapped his lips around your breast and began to run his tongue across your sensitive nipple. His hand traveled from cradling your cheek to rubbing small, sloppy circles around your pulsing clit. You keened, overcome with so much pleasure that you felt your entire body trembling against Frank’s.

The bathroom was big enough for your soft moans to echo, and other than the sloshing of the bath water, that was the sound Frank heard as you came apart on top of him. Your head was spinning as the heat in your gut finally found its release, uncoiling in waves of overwhelming pleasure that sent you reeling.

“That’s it,” he breathed, “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re so good for me, baby.”

His fingers hadn’t stopped circling your clit. You were quickly growing overstimulated and conflicted, wanting nothing more than to keep riding him while also needing to get away from his dexterous and sinful fingers. He watched you for a moment, in awe - the way your lips parted every time a moan slipped out of your mouth, the heaving of your chest as your heart rate tried and failed to return to normal, the intense trembling of your limbs every time he circled your clit. He wasn’t worthy. He knew that. He didn’t care. He’d take care of you for as long as you’d let him, and he’d enjoy every second of it.

“F-Frankie,” you stuttered in between heaving breaths, “I can’t- I’m- It’s sensitive.”

“Shh, sh, sh, sh, I know, baby. I know,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and up your neck, “Can you give me one more, bunny? Be good and give me one more.”

You shuttered against him, resting your forehead against his and breathing out a sultry whine. He continued his onslaught of kisses along your jawline, following the upward curve of your chin until his lips were on yours again. His agile tongue swept into your mouth mid-moan, sending heat into your already molten core.

“Wanna feel you come around me again, baby.” He groaned and tightened his hold around your torso, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing your mouth in his again.

He had brought you to the brink again already. You squeezed around him, earning a rare groan from Frank. The usually stoic and quiet man let out another sinful moan when you arched your back and squeezed again. He was as close as you were to the edge, and God, the tension was palpable.

Finally, in a moment of pure bliss, he nipped at your bottom lip and let out a soft, barely there whimper, which sent you careening off the edge and into oblivion. You could feel yourself clenching around him as you came, but your head had been sent straight to a euphoric haze. Your heart thundered in your chest as Frank wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight against his chest, coming inside your sensitive, throbbing pussy.

You’d both worked yourselves into a haze, high off each other’s touch. The comedown was gentle and warm - soft caresses of each other’s skin, chaste kisses pressed to collarbones and fingertips, thundering heartbeats slowing in unison. The bath water was surprisingly still warm, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into Frank’s chest with languorous, droopy eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, running his fingers up the length of your spine.

You nodded into his chest, sighing. “I’m perfect.”

“‘m glad.” He responded, kissing your forehead lightly. “‘m sorry you had such a rough week.”

“I’m not.” You giggled, glancing around at the luxurious bathtub you were in. “This place is like a dream.”

He held you tighter against him, resting his chin on your head before responding.

“You don’t know the half of it, pretty girl.”

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luvring · 2 months

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AN INCH BETWEEN US

osamu x gn!reader | ~800 words, he calls you hon once, you're getting married! :3

“you don’t usually get nervous.”

“well,”—osamu fiddles with his cufflink, eyes trained on the metal around his finger—“today’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”

make sure you don’t see each other before you get out there, atsumu warned as he pat your fiancé’s back. bad luck or somethin’.

doesn’t make sense if we’re doin’ a first look, idiot.

oh, shut up. don’t look at each other ’til then, then!

your back rests against the door, his on the other side keeping it from closing. maybe it’s just a silly superstition, but it cements today as something real, reminds you that it’s happening.

you reach your hand around to search for his own. “at least we’ll be together the whole time. and then we can say goodbye, and go home, and get out of these clothes, and sleep—”

osamu groans and rests his head against the wood—you don’t think he’s slept properly in two weeks, head scrambled and busy with preparations and the same nervous buzz as yours; the fact that he fell asleep before 1am last night was a miracle.

his hand finds yours, engagement ring resting cool against your skin, palm warm and a little rough. he mumbles, “thank god i closed the shop for a few days, if you told me to wake up any earlier than 9 tomorrow i think i’d die.”

“why are you- we haven’t even gotten to the actual wedding, ’samu.”

“okay? i’m tired and ’m gonna get even more tired. i just wanna cuddle at home. can a man not dream?” he defends, and all but whines. you snort but relent, letting him pull your hand closer and settle into a quiet.

“what if i fall?” he blurts out.

“...what?” a laugh escapes you. “you won’t fall.”

“i could trip down the aisle.”

“you won't.”

he squeezes your fingers. “didn’t realize i was marrying someone who could see the future?”

“’samu. you won’t fall, but if you get in my head and i fall, i’m blaming you,” you warn with a teasing lilt.

a beat passes, and you can tell he’s smiling as you stare at the couch ahead of you.

sitting on a wooden hotel floor, wedding attire on and hair not done, bed covered in supplies and friends’ outfits, the buzz of the air conditioner making it a little too cold in your room—you think you’re content like this, because at least you’re here with him.

shuffling a little closer, he says your name.

“hm?”

the inch between you feels a little bigger as osamu lifts your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, lingering on your ring finger a second longer than the others—“i’m glad i get to marry you.”

your grip tightens, and if osamu listened carefully, you think he could hear your heart trying to beat out of your chest in search of his.

the elevator dings somewhere down the hall.

“i’m glad i get to marry you, too.”

“samu!” his twin’s voice rings out. “are you done cryin’, or do i haveta drag y’back to get your hair done?”

“god, ’tsumu, yeah, i’m comin’, stop yellin’!” he chides with a huff.

atsumu scoffs before replying—something about his twin being ungrateful for all he does—then walks back to the elevator. you hear a sigh. “guess i should go, huh?”

a thumb rubs the back of your hand, and you almost tell him to stay, but there isn’t much time, and it won’t be long before you’re pushing it. taking a deep breath, you let go to stand up first. “mhm.”

the door squeaks at the weight now gone as you both stretch.

you turn to say goodbye, the open door and shadow in the hall taunting you, but freeze when a familiar hand starts to push the door open.

“wh- samu!” your hand flies up to push his grey bangs out of view.

“woah- what- shit- sorry, sorry. habit, was gonna kiss ya,” he apologizes with a stumble.

panic evaded, your heart rate comes down and he huffs. “my- seriously, hon, you’re lucky my hair isn’t done yet.”

“...sorry, i—” you try to hide a laugh. “i’m sorry, i panicked.”

“no, really?”

“’samu,” you whine, embarrassment painted across your face, though he can’t see. he laughs outside, and you try to ignore the heat in your face.

“...at least you’ll kiss me later, right?” you ask quietly.

“....yeah.” there’s a smile in his voice, a pause, a rustling of fabric as he pats down his suit once more. “see you out there?”

you place your hand on the doorknob. “see you out there.”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @chirikoheina @sleepyxxhead @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie @sirimirihiro @mylahrins @aria-chikage @akari-fujikawa @chocopuchino @hearts4itoshi @ur-local-simp @tnshjfk

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #osamu x reader #osamu fluff #osamu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gn!reader

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celtic-crossbow · 3 months

Text

These will be updated here and there. It’s likely that there’s some I won’t stick to when it comes to requests and even story ideas where they won’t fit.

He hates pickles. Anything that is green and smells that bad does not belong in the food section. But he loves pickled pigs feet.

He likes sex but can easily live without it.

He hasn’t been a virgin since his early teens (thanks to Merle and a handful of drug money)

It would take some serious, repeated encouragement and assurance (and a lot of time) before he’s comfortable having sex.

He is the type of guy that goes one step at a time, testing the waters. Making out, touching you, letting you touch him (slowly because his brain has been conditioned to flinch away). Everything would be through the clothes and then progress. Slow and steady wins the race.

He’s a switch. Sometimes, he wants all the say (so to speak) in the bedroom, watching you whimper and beg. Sometimes he just physically needs to give up control to balance the chaos.

Rarely, when he’s extremely needy, he wants you to tell him he’s a “good boy” and praise him for how incredible he makes you feel. He’d never ask for it but when you call him that on accident, his reaction was quite telling.

He can easily go from gentle to rough. He would never want to hurt you. Squeezing your throat, slapping your ass, teasing your breasts, or leaving love marks with his teeth absolutely do not count as hurting you.

Consent is a huge deal to him.

He’s always been quiet during anything sexual; On the rare occasions he talks, it’s reassurances and quiet, gentle praise. Otherwise, grunts and whimpers and low growls are what you get until he’s about to orgasm.

However, sometimes he’s just so wound up, so needy for you, that he can’t help but moan loudly or call your name.

He always tells you he’s close to or has already started cumming. No real rhyme or reason. Maybe just his way of letting you know that you took him there.

He has a genuine dislike of cats. He doesn’t hate them by any means but if he had to pick an animal that was secretly plotting world domination, it’d be cats.

He prefers boxer briefs.

The only name brand clothing he ever owned was underwear because his junk deserves only the best.

He’s superstitious, even if he pretends not to be.

He doesn’t like giving his significant other pet names beyond “sunshine,” “pipsqueak”, or “woman.” Things that you find endearing regardless. On rare occasions, he’ll use “doll” or “darlin’.”

He secretly adores when you call him “baby” or “sweetheart.” Pretty much any endearment that labels him as yours.

He rarely (but it does happen) says “I love you.” He’s more of an actions guy and if you say it first, he’ll usually only say “me too” or rub his knuckles over your jaw.

He can’t sleep if his feet are hot.

Spiders freak him out.

He hates showers, not because he just doesn’t like them. Being in a space with scars on display makes him feel vulnerable. The water touching the scars forces him to relive when he received them.

Contrary to popular belief, he does keep specific areas of his body acceptably clean, using the bathroom sink or river/lake/creek when he’s in the forest.

The dirt and grime that coat his skin is a grounding reminder of who he is, so he doesn’t completely lose himself in that dystopian world.

He has never hunted for sport, only for survival. He respects nature and what it provides.

He loves to read. His favorite book is The Outsiders.

He doesn't/wouldn't understand why his girl can't talk to him instead of a stranger. He would need some mental health education as the urging of Carol or Michonne before even remotely understanding. He wants to be supportive, first and foremost.

He fights tooth and nail to avoid getting "his head shrunk" but in the end, if it meant not losing his girl, he'd give in.

He is a horrible patient for physical ailments and even worse for mental ones.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl humor #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you

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f4nrir · 11 months

Note

I've saw that you had written something for Miguel o hara and I've been simping hard for him ever since the trailers came out. And I've been needing some male reader so if you dont think it's to much to write about Miguel being really desperate for reader and needing reader inside of him which leads to Miguel tearing his suit open for reader to use and finally use him. If this is alot then am sorry for taking up space it just that I've never seen someone write for male reader for 2099.

desperation

一 pairing; miguel o'hara x male reader

note: no worries, i'm currently hyperfixated on miguel. this was fun to write, hope you like it! [ slightly proofread ] .

cw: bottom!miguel, breeding, sexual tension, rough & outdoor sex.

word count: 1.4k

“fuck– it’s too hot in this suit,” you murmured as you grabbed hold of your mask, taking it off swiftly. you and miguel had been patrolling for the night on the outskirts of your city after being alerted by your officials.

the way you said “fuck” made miguel’s head spin, the tension only building up even further. this whole time miguel has been fighting his own urges to make a move but was far too embarrassed in an environment like this. even if the location was miles away from the headquarters, he did not want to risk being caught by anybody. everything about you from your touseled hair to your suit hugging tightly around your shape made him flustered and tried to stay out of your gaze.

you noticed him turn away and raised a brow, wondering if he had seen something in the distance or was simply feeling unwell. “you alright, mig?” you asked, slightly teasing him with the nickname you loved using. he let out a small huff through his mask and saw the misty cloud escape through it, as the temperature outside was a bit colder than usual but you didn’t mind.

“yeah, don’t worry. just a bit cold,” he replied and you shrugged your shoulders, taking a seat on a nearby rock. miguel glanced over at you as you rested your elbows on your thighs, causing your suit to stretch around your arms. from all of the training you’ve had over the years, it definitely paid off, and staring at you simply made miguel’s stomach feel warm.

“y’know, this is so useless..” you grunted and he raised a brow, humming a small “hm?” under his breath. “there’s no threat. is everyone just on edge? because personally, i’d rather be home under the covers.” annoyed, you kicked a tiny pebble off to the side and slightly leaned your head back out of frustration.

miguel’s breathing changed as he continued to watch you, not paying attention to any of the words you just said. he was focused on your breathing and how your neck flexed against your suit, your adam’s apple becoming prominent. he sat down across from you, causing you to look up at him and he seemed more tense than usual. you furrowed your eyebrows together, afraid that there was something on his mind, and refused to tell you about it.

“are you sure you’re alright?” you asked and there was a pause before he answered, “of course, what makes you think i’m not?” he spoke as if he was reading off of a script and you rolled your eyes.

“you aren’t talking much and you sound like you’re so miserable, is it that difficult to be around me?” you playfully joked and yes, it was difficult. miguel was sitting there fantasizing about you and he couldn’t do anything about his thoughts as he was trying to get ahold of himself. until it got too much and he felt a familiar tightness on the lower half of his suit, covering his lap in embarrassment.

“no, i’m not miserable and it is not difficult to be around you. i’m just thinking about the project we’ve been working on is all,” he mumbled as he began fidgeting with his hands, causing his knuckles to brush against his boner. miguel let out a hiss, trying to cover it with a lame cough but you never thought anything of it. you got up, pacing around in front of him, trying to think of what to do for the next hour. miguel continued to watch you, his eyes examining each move you made. he felt like a pervert but couldn’t help his thoughts as you were standing right in front of him, his desperation for you only growing stronger by the minute. when you turned around, miguel got up from his seat and stood right behind you, pressing his body against your back.

“hey, do you–” you felt something poke against you, knowing that familiar feeling. “i can’t do this anymore,” he grunted in your ear, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. you licked the top row of your teeth, watching his hand slowly trail down to your own bulge.

“miguel..” you warned as you leaned into his touch, bucking your hips up against his hand. you moved out of his grasp and turned around to face him.

you took off his mask for him, revealing his lustful eyes. his fangs poked through his lips and you found it adorable, grabbing a hold of his face to make him watch what you were going to do. he looked down, his eyes trailing to your hand as you rubbed your hand against his cock. miguel let out a gasp, causing him to bite down on his lip and poked himself with his own fangs. he winced but was too focused on the pleasure you were giving him.

“so this is what got you all hot ‘n bothered, hm?” you teased, and he whined as he tried to press himself against you even further. miguel got tired of the teasing and took matters into his own hands as he pressed his lips against yours, hungrily kissing you. it caught you by surprise and you placed your hands on his shoulders, gripping tightly onto his suit.

“please.” he whined into the kiss, his hands tampering with his own suit. you pressed on the emblem on your chest, causing your suit to disenthrall from your figure. without thinking about the consequences of his actions, miguel tore open his suit for easier access as his suit was more complicated to get out of. the sound of the fabric tearing made your eyes widen, knowing it took him so long to perfect every aspect of it.

“¿tan desesperado estás?” you whispered against his mouth as you signaled for him to jump, pinning him against a nearby wall.

“cállate.” he hissed, connecting your lips together once again. you took your cock in your hand, noticing the precum that was spilling out. miguel bit down on your shoulder, feeling his sharp teeth pierce through your skin, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“fuck me already. please, stop making me wait. i’m so des– fuck!” he whined in your ear, feeling his hot breath against it. you thrust into him without any warning, forcing your cock to go in. you felt him stretch around you, a string of curses slipping out of your mouth. “you’re so tight miguel…” you grunted through your gritted teeth, finally putting all of it inside of him.

you used one arm to stabilize yourself and the other to hold miguel, keeping him close to your body. miguel dug his claws into your back as you pounded into him, not giving him any time to adjust to you. he threw his head back against the wall and you looked at him, thinking it was such a pretty sight to see him so desperate for you.

you quickened your pace, each thrust began to be harder and rougher. miguel’s moans filled the air as he did not care to be loud, noticing him stare off into nothing as if he was so cock drunk. you took this as encouragement, slamming into him as you felt your orgasm reaching its peak.

miguel seemed to notice too, mumbling in your ear, “breed me… please” as that was all that he could let out. you smiled, pressing a kiss against his temple, “good boys get what they want”. you buried your face into his neck as you came, moaning his name out loud as you made sure to pin his ass against your cock. miguel followed shortly after, gasping for air as he moaned your name over and over again. you stood there, still inside him as you wanted to make sure you filled him up.

“you alright?” you asked with concern, looking up at him. he pressed his forehead against yours, a smirk plastered across his face.

“of course. getting fucked by you is always the best thing… and don’t you dare move.” he sternly ordered, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to keep himself steady.

“i wasn’t planning to just yet. but what about your suit?” you asked and he pointed at his wrist cuff, not noticing it before.

“i made a new prototype. thought i’d test it out tonight…” he mumbled, closing up the space between you two to kiss you once again. he began to move his hips, earning a groan from you.

“you fuckin’ whore… you do realize that there are cameras right?” you pointed up at one and he placed his hand behind your nape, pulling you closer to him.

“then let them watch.”

#— zeppelin’s files 📁#miguel o'hara x male reader #male reader #marvel #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x m!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #m!reader #spiderman 2099 #mlm smut #male reader insert #x you smut

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steddiealltheway · 1 year

Text

Imagining Eddie stopping by Steve’s house while he’s doing laundry.

Eddie rushes in, having gotten an honorary key a while ago to let the kids in or just to hang out. “Steve! I have more on the Will and Mike situation!” Eddie yells out, putting his keys and wallet on the kitchen counter.

“In here!” Steve yells back, voice coming from a part of the house Eddie hasn’t been to before.

Eddie reluctantly goes down the hallway to the right of the kitchen. “Marco?” Eddie calls out.

“Polo!” Steve responds, voice coming from behind a closed door to Eddie’s left.

He knocks on the door.

“Come on in!”

Eddie opens the door and is hit with the overwhelming scent of fresh laundry. Then his eyes land on Steve who is currently bent over, stuffing clothes in the dryer. Eddie gets an eye full of Steve’s ass clad in blue short. He swallows.

Steve straightens up and turns around. “Hey, what were you saying about Will and Mike?” Steve asks, oblivious to Eddie’s internal turmoil as he reveals his full outfit - a blue sailors uniform.

Steve raises his eyebrows and glances down where Eddie is staring, jaw dropped. “Oh, yeah. This is my old scoops ahoy uniform. I ran out of clothes, and this was all I had left,” he explains with a shrug.

Eddie’s heart races in his chest, and his mouth goes dry. His hand tightens around the laundry room doorknob, knuckles going white. He feels like he might combust if he’s trapped in this small room with Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform any longer.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, concern evident on his face. He makes his way closer to Eddie, and the room suddenly gets a lot warmer.

“I have to go,” Eddie says suddenly. Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Yep, I need to go,” Eddie says again rushing out of the room and out of Steve’s house. He takes a few deep breaths outside, hoping the fresh air will help with his mini crisis. Jesus H. Christ.

His heart is still racing when he makes his way to his van. He realizes when he tries to open the door that he left his keys and wallet in Steve’s house. Shit.

He slowly, begrudgingly makes his way back inside. He tries not to make any noise as he opens the front door, hoping Steve won’t hear him and grace him with his presence again.

As he tiptoes to the kitchen, he overhears Steve on the phone. He freezes.

“Yes, Robin. I tried the uniform like you said. He just panicked and ran out. You already know the outfit didn’t work when we worked at Scoops. Now, operation seduce Eddie is off to a rough start thanks to your idea,” Steve says and finishes with a sigh.

“Operation what,” Eddie chokes out before he realizes what he’s done.

Steve’s head whips around. The blood drains from his face. “Robin, I’ll have to call you back,” Steve says, immediately hanging up untangling his other hand from the phone cord.

Steve and Eddie stare at each other for a few moments.

Eddie breaks the silence and asks, “You did this on purpose?”

Steve puts his hands on his hips and reasons, “Well, I did need to do my laundry, and this really is my laundry outfit. But usually I do it… when I know you won’t be coming over…”

Eddie drags a hand over his face. “You and Robin made a plan to seduce me instead of just asking me out like a normal person?”

Steve walks over to Eddie with a small smile. “Did it work?” He asks fiddling with the ascot of his uniform.

Eddie puts a hand over Steve’s on the ascot and pulls him in. “Damn you, it sure did,” Eddie mumbles out then kisses Steve.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet

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literallydontknowdontcare · 5 months

Note

I’m literally BEGGING a Vanessa x fem!reader where Vanessa gets jelly and it ends up in rough/angry sex

You DO Own Me

Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem Reader

PLUS this request: “Can we get Vanessa fucking y/n roughly? Like pulling hair, biting neck and scratching back type of rough?”

a/n: yessir 😜 merged this request with another anon as they coincide… sorry for the delay in fics. I am still sick but that not my excuse: my excuse is I'm lazy lol. This may be shit, sorry ;')

Content/Warnings: Top/Rough Vanessa, Bottom sub reader, smut, choking, strap use [r receiving], rough sex, not proofread/edited, Vanessas kind of an asshole but that's hot

w/c: 2024

The ride home was silent. Well, not completely. Though Vanessa was extremely unimpressed, her lips pressed together and her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white, you were having the time of your life. Under the influence of alcohol, you were giddy and chatty, oblivious to your girlfriend's simmering anger beside you.

“And I literally told Mike that he was insane for thinking those robots cut him in his sleep, but of COURSE he decided to ignore me and continued to take those pills. I mean, really? The poor man is half asleep most of the time!”, you huff, recalling your last shift. “What do you think?”, you turn to Vanessa, your half dazed, half-blushed face informing her that you really did have no idea that she was mad.

“Mm”, she replied, uninterested. You, again, didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. “I know! Maybe I should replace them with some melatonin gummies.. He probably wouldn’t notice”, you giggle, rolling down the front window to breathe. Fanning yourself, the alcohol making you overheated, you gaze at the stars outside in awe. The outdoors really does hit differently when you’re drunk. Unbeknownst to you, Vanessa was seconds from snapping. Pulling into the driveway of your shared home and parking her personal vehicle beside her cop car, she immediately stepped outside as soon as the gas turned off and slammed the door shut, ignoring your own door and walking to the front of the house. You frown, beginning to zone back in.

“Maybe she just forgot”, you think, in reference to her not racing to open your door or offering to carry you inside as she usually would. Stumbling out of the car, you follow behind her into the house. “Vanessa?”, you ask aloud, wondering where she disappeared to in the span of two seconds. Pausing, you try to listen for any footsteps around the house for any indication of her location. Nothing. “Vanessa? Baby?”, you repeat, concerned now. Half limping, you shrug off your jacket and kick off your heels, wandering around the house. Finally, in the corner of your eye, you see the upstairs office light getting turned on.

Sprinting up the stairs, going as fast as your tipsy body would allow you to, you head for the office. Before you could open the door you heard a mumbling sound. Cracking the door open, you witness your girlfriend pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, talking to someone on the phone.

“Yes, yes. I understand. I just thought- no thank you. I’ll be alright. Sorry for the misunderstanding”, Vanessa answered someone on the line, grinding her teeth when she saw you enter. “Thank you. Have a good one”, she hung up the phone, turning away from you and leaning against the desk.

“Vanessa? What’s wrong?”, you whisper. She snorted.

“What? Now you notice?”, she spits, still not turning around.

You bit your lip, anxious at her reply. “What was the phone call about?”

“Work. Nothing for you to worry about”, she then laughs. “Not that you were, to begin with”. She leans over the desk, reaching for a pen and paper to jot something down, and you try to not let your mind race with thoughts of her rolling her hips forward as you can tell she needs comfort right now, not a horny girlfriend.

You walk towards her nervously. “Are you okay baby? You were fine in the car-”

She snaps at you. “No. I wasn’t. If you weren’t so lightweight you would know that”. Stillness filled the air, the only noise coming from the scribbles of the pen as Vanessa jotted down the information from the phone call.

Coming up behind her, you gently place your hand on the back of her arm. “Is this- is this about Mike?”, you watch her jaw clench from the side. Blinking in surprise, you reiterate. “It is? Isn’t it?”

“Drop it”, Vanessa scowls, shoving herself off the table. Your foggy brain couldn’t help but think ‘muscle memory’ with the way she practically ground against it in annoyance.

“Are you serious? He’s a respectful guy! His old crush means nothing”, you protest.

“Nothing? You make me sick”

“What do you want from me? For me to spit on him and never talk to him again?”, you snap, frustrated now.

She crosses her arms. “Preferably”, she snickers. She comes closer to you. “Or maybe you like the attention? Hm?”

You pull away, hurt. You’d like to believe she was drunk saying this, but she was completely sober. “Vanessa-”

“Poor you, huh? Do I not give you enough attention? Is my poor baby always so needy”, she mocked, snarling.

You blink away tears and begin to walk out of the office when you feel a gust of wind and a sudden thud against your back. Gasping, you slam into the wall, your head narrowly missing the collision. Before you could turn around, you felt Vanessa pin your hands behind your back, her cuffs clenching around your wrists and shutting with a loud ‘click’.

“What the fuck Van-FUCK”, your sentence gets cut off as you hear a loud smack; Vanessa had just hit your ass. You feel numb for a few seconds, and then everything after that. You whine out, trying to cover yourself as she grabs your cuffed wrists and pins them above your head, her other hand coming around your waist to arch your back towards her. “Always whining. Never taking what I give you”. She slaps you again, the force of her hand biting your skin, surely leaving red marks that would turn purple tomorrow. You bite your lip, pain, and pleasure fighting to take over your emotions. You settle on both and she digs into your scalp, raising you up to her. You whimper out as she turns your head to the side and begins to suck at the front of your neck. Your life flashes before your eyes; having to walk in tomorrow at Freddy’s, a hickey so prominent that any efforts to hide it with makeup make it look evening trashier, and Mike seeing exactly what she did to you. You never understood her anger when it came to Mike; she liked him well enough. You just were never allowed to talk to him, apparently.

“Vanessa, please”, you whisper as she bites the side of your neck, pain seeping in. Squirming, she finally releases you. You flop against the wall, breathing heavily as she stares you down.

“Look at you”, she hisses. Everything about Vanessa commanded respect. Not one part of her demonstrated sex except for her slightly flushed cheeks and large pupils. Her hair was perfectly in place, her shirt was properly ironed. You, on the other hand, were tied up, beaten, and most definitely not commanding respect. It was exactly how Vanessa liked it on days like this.

She leans forward, tangling her hands gently in your hair. She tugs on your strands gently, lulling you into a false sense of security as you close your eyes, content. You should have known it wouldn’t last. “Pathetic, you are”, she says. Suddenly, she drags you to the office desk, making you gasp out in pain, flinging your hands to hers in a poor attempt to release her grip. Shoving you over the desk, she had you right where she wanted you in the first place; bent over and tied. “What, you thought I was going to treat you?”, she laughs. You stutter, words being unable to properly form. “Nothing happened! You were there the whole time! Why am I being punished for your jealousy issues?”, you yell out as she begins to scratch your back deeply. Her nails dig into your skin, fire spreading everywhere you touch. Wailing and twitching in her grasp, you hear her from behind. “Stupid girl. So disappointing when you act out against me”, she taps on the handcuffs. “Are you forgetting who protects you? I can harm you instead if you want baby, just ask”. She pauses, waiting for your reply. Nothing.

She smiles. You can feel the cockiness being emitted without even seeing her. Instead, you intently stare at the table, wishing you were in bed right now instead of feeling the humiliation of your girlfriend lifting up your skirt to check your panties.

The cold table was a harsh polarity to your pussy; you hated how your pussy was throbbing faster than your heart. Vanessa hummed from behind you, clearly amused and proud of you. Leaning over you, the shape of her breasts being felt against your back despite her clothing, she whispers a soft “I love how much of a whore you are”, before standing back up and softly grinding her front against your bare ass. You widen your eyes as you feel something hard press against you. You love how hot and cold Vanessa can be. No matter how rough and angry she can get, she can never resist treating you first.

The sound of her unzipping her pants was as close as you were ever going to get to hearing church bells. Hell, even angels singing couldn’t replicate the sound of her strap slapping your pussy. Shutting your eyes, your brace yourself against the table, moaning as her cock dipped into your soft entrance.

“You think you deserve this?”, she asks, moving your hair back with her hands, a gesture she couldn’t help doing. Not when she knew you did nothing wrong.

You nod desperately, grinding your ass back into her strap, your pussies walls clenching around nothing in a desperate attempt for friction.

Vanessa stayed silent as she plunged her cock into your pussy. You, however, most definitely did not. Your screams filled the quaint neighbourhood as she thrusted into you at a brutal pace that didn’t account for your lack of adjustment. Your hands gripped anything on the table in sight, your body becoming simultaneously needy and overstimulated. “P-please Vanessa slow- oh FUCK yes-”, you cry out, conflicted with the pain.

She rakes her hands over your ass, switching between slapping your reddened cheeks and clawing at your lower back. Hearing her deep, ragged breaths, you knew she was close; the strap hit her clit at every thrust, making her let out lowly strained moans. “Van-”, you roll your eyes back, your vision turning white. She was hitting your gummy walls so right that it felt insane. Your arousal was streaming down the table and her legs, which Vanessa acknowledged by letting out a snort.

“Need to come, baby?”, she hummed. You whine, grinding back. You needed this release so badly; anything Vanessa had told you had already been forgiven.

“V- nessa I need to.. Please”, you bite your lip and squint your eyes, begging yourself to not release before she allowed you to do so. You couldn’t risk more punishment. She sighed as if thinking about it. She sped up the pace, pounding the strap in a way that made it ten times more pleasurable for her as it did for you.

As your fingers grabbed at the table, she let out the smallest whimper that made you go feral. You pleaded, over and over again, to come. You felt extremely betrayed and turned on as Vanessa slumped forward, her chest heaving from cumming quietly. “Oh y/n”, she moaned, “Cum now baby”, she snaked her arm around your waist to bring your ass up even higher as you came with a loud cry.

You let go of the table, your body now going limp. “Vanessa”, you sigh, unable to move. Despite your comfortable position, consisting of you flopping across the table and Vanessa holding you loosely with her strap still half inside of you, she pulls out and forcefully slips you over way too soon for your brain. The pleasure was turning into pain again, and you hiss as your ass makes contact with the table, the marks making it unbearable.

“Don’t think this is over”, she murmurs as you pull her closer.

You look at her, confused.

“It’s only 1 am. If you think I’m done with you, you are sorely mistaken”

#five nights at freddys #fnaf vanessa #fnaf movie #fnaf vanessa x reader #vanessa shelly #vanessa monroe #vanessa shelly x reader #vanny #elizabeth lail #fnaf au #vanessa x reader #vanessa afton #fnaf vanny #fnaf #mike schmidt

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heich0e · 1 year

Text

bounty - vash/f!reader/wolfwood (trigun stampede) 1.4k, poly!au, wild west!au even tho it's hard to tell in a fic this short lol, bounty hunters, this is an equilateral triangle of a relationship, fluff but suggestive, wolfwood calls reader 'kid' as a petname, i may expand on this but rly who's to say

BOUND - poly!au masterlist

the mattress dips beside you, rousing you from sleep.

you don’t open your eyes, nor do you feel any panic. instead, you find yourself reaching out towards the form that’s curled up into your side; familiar and warm to the touch.

“welcome home,” you whisper quietly, slumber still clinging to your throat and making your words rasp a little more than usual. “good morning.”

“it’s not morning yet,” vash whispers in reply with a laugh creeping into his voice. he presses a kiss against your temple, nosing into your hair. “you should go back to sleep.”

he sounds tired as he clings to you tightly, and you open your eyes to meet his sleepy gaze. he smiles, even through his exhaustion, and you watch fondly as his eyes crinkle at the corners in the dim light of the oil lamp at your bedside.

you shift a little closer to him in your bed, craning up to press a kiss to the little mark below his eye. he sighs contently as your lips brush against his skin, his body slackening into yours as though he's finally allowing his weariness to catch up to him. finally allowing himself to rest.

you pull away, brushing a few strands of blonde hair back from his face.

he has a bruise at the edge of his jaw, and dark rings of shadow that are deepest at the inner corner of his eyes. his skin looks sallow, and his lips dry.

you wonder how rough these past few weeks have been.

“where’s nico?” you ask gently, cradling his face in your hands. the question has been at the back of your mind since your bed dipped only on one side.

vash averts his eyes from yours guiltily.

“vash?” you press, a sudden knot of anxiety winding in the pit of your stomach. you sit up in bed, your quilt pooling in your lap as it slips from your body and reveals the cotton of your gauzy nightdress.

“he’s outside,” the man beside you murmurs, pink blooming high across his cheeks as his head rests against his pillow. he pouts a little, finally peeking back up at you through his lashes with a wounded gaze. “he’s mad at me.”

“oh?” you ask, fighting back a laugh at how sheepish and petulant the man below you looks. “and why is that?”

vash purses his lips even further.

“the guy we were after…”

“the wanted man whose bounty you were hunting,” you correct vash lightly, a lilt of playfulness in your tone.

“yeah, him,” vash nods, and then grimaces, “he sort of… got away.”

you let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“vash, that’s…”

“the third one in a row, i know. i know.” vash wraps his arms around your waist and pulls his head into your lap. you card your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles into you for comfort.

“did you let this one get away again?” you ask quietly, but not in an accusatory way.

vash says nothing, but that’s an admission in and of itself.

you sigh, your fingers stilling as they trace through the strands of blonde, the locks curling around your knuckles. you shift towards the edge of the bed, and vash tries to keep you where you are by tightening his hold around your waist.

“i’m just gonna go check on him,” you assure him when he looks up at you with wide eyes. you dip down and press a kiss to his lips—the ones you’ve been missing so much for the fortnight he and nicholas had been away. he whines as you pull away, and you smile against his mouth. you kiss him again, more chaste this time. “i’ll be back.”

nicholas is on the front porch, staring out into the sea of sand that surrounds the little ranch you call home. his beloved boots have been kicked off beside the door, and his shirt is unbuttoned to reveal the undershirt he wears beneath. the tails of the shirt are still tucked into his trousers but he’s unfastened their button at his waist too, and his suspenders are the only thing keeping them on as he reclines back onto his elbows against the wooden slats of the porch deck.

you know he hears the screen door open to let you out, and you're even more certain that he hears the sound of it shutting behind you once you've stepped outside. the smell of tobacco clings to the edge of the night wind. it’s familiar, comforting. reminds you that he’s home. you draw in a long breath to savour it.

“you should be in bed, kid,” nicholas rasps, tapping the ash off the end of his sad, vaguely mangled cigarette.

“i’m not allowed to come and welcome you home?” you kneel behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. it feels nice to have him in your arms again. feels right.

“not when you’ve got a crybaby to coddle in there,” he grunts, but you still feel him lean back into your embrace. you hide your pleased smile against the crown of his head.

“he’s probably already asleep,” you murmur into the top nicholas’s hair, swaying him gently. “he feels bad. he thinks you’re mad at him.”

“i am mad at him,” nicholas snaps, but you see through the sharpness of his tone. he’s tired, probably hungry, but not sincerely angry. “he fucked up another job for us.”

“guess that’s what you get taking in a fugitive as a partner, mister bounty hunter,” you tease him, pressing a kiss to his throat. his skin tastes of salt and desert sand, like days spent in the sun and labour. you feel how he shivers at the gentle brush of your mouth against his pulse. "and a bleeding hearted one at that."

“you’re the one who took him in like a stray,” nicholas complains, “i’m only putting up with him for your sake.”

it’s a lie, and he knows it as well as you do. he’s just as attached to the blonde presently curled up in your bed, the one too big for just him, as you are. it's the reason nicholas wears a thin gold band that he takes impossibly good care of, just like the two of you do, on his left ring finger.

nicholas tips his head back so he can finally look at you, his cigarette still dangling from his lips. the corner of his mouth quirks slightly as he draws a breath in, the cherry burning red in the night. you pluck the cigarette from his lips as he lets the smoke slip out on his exhale, his dark eyes still fixed to your face as he appraises you.

you observe him similarly, scanning over him as though taking inventory of the state he's fallen into since he's been away. he’s in the same shape as vash, from what you can tell. you spot some bruises mottling his skin, some rough stubble coming in at the edge of his jaw. there’s a blood stain on the collar of his shirt, and you aren’t sure if it’s his own or someone else’s, but you know it will be a pain to wash out.

but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

“if he’s a stray, what does that make you?” you ask him with a little laugh, his cigarette still pinched between your thumb and forefinger.

he quirks a brow. “if i say ‘the luckiest guy in the world’ are you gonna think i’m just trying to take you to bed?”

you snort, stamping the stub of the cigarette out onto the wooden porch and then flicking the butt away into the sand. you dip down until you’re nose to nose with him.

“of course I am,” you reply to him, your lips brushing against his as you speak the words. you can taste the tobacco that clings to his mouth from this close, but you don't mind it when it tastes like home. “and it’s our bed, nicholas. so take me to it whenever you’d like.”

(read part 2 here!)

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #wolfwood x reader #nicholas wolfwood x reader #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun stampede fic #trigun fic #writing #poly vashwood

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adventuringblind · 8 months

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Oscar the Matchmaker: Part Two

Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: series

Summary: Oscar struggles with the aftermath of Alpine and a rough start of the season

Warnings: Toxic work place

Notes: I’m using alpine drama as a plot point. Also they call Oscar Jack because lord it’s such a cute nickname he has.

Previous <-

Masterlist

The fact that two rookies are enjoying the luxury that comes with being a world champion is completely ridiculous.

Max loves to spoil them. Mainly because is makes them shy as they try to turn down his offers. He’s stubborn though and usually gives them no other choice but to relent.

Now he’s spoiling them with sleep. They all love sleep. All the time. It’s one of their favorite activities.

Max however, is not sleeping, just resting. His mind moving but his body remains stationary.

Oscar shoots out of the bed faster then Max can register. The Aussie is practically silent as he does it.

The Dutch is quick to follow him. Gently kissing the forehead of the girl still asleep before leaving the room.

Oscar is pacing back and forth, his hands tugging at his hair. He looks to Max as if he’s trying to seem productive and yet not getting anywhere simultaneously.

“Jack?”

He jumps at the sound of Max’s voice. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I was already awake, just to lazy to move.” Max drags him over to the couch. “Wanna talk about what’s going on in your head?” If there is one thing Max has learned about the Australian, it’s that he’s calm and collected outside and a whirl whine on the inside.

“I just panicked. It’s Tuesday.” He sighs.

A sleepy eyed female walks into the room and drapes herself over them. The two males practically use her as a blanket. “Tuesdays are Alpine meeting days.” Her voice may be sleepy, but the venom in her voice doesn’t go unheard. Max threads his fingers through her hair that is splayed messily across his lap.

"So muscle memory?" Asks the confused Dutch.

Oscar starts fumbling around with his words. "Well - no, it's just that- Alpine weren't the best to me, I guess." His fingers find his hair and run the back if his neck raw.

The confusion turns into concern as Max goes wide-eyed. He knows all the drama that happened. There were countless nights on the phone with Daniel about it. That was Max's first impression of the rookie. The fact he apologized to Daniel for taking his spot and being a hindrance to him.

"He'd gotten in trouble for over sleeping once, and it was absolutely hell. I had half a mind to report them to the FIA." The girl on their lap is flushing with frustration now, her knuckles turning white from her fist tightening around nothing.

Max could see the memories flooding the Australians eyes. He leans over to him and kisses the top of his head. "It makes sense now why you avoid them like the plague."

"They are the plague."

The witty comments sometimes shock the two. The girl is usually quiet around people she doesn't know and is kind for the most part. However, she's also protective.

Max and Oscar chuckle at her antics. Watching her carefully drift in and out of sleep.

The next race weekend, they walk in together. It's not uncommon since her and Oscare are practically attached at the hip, but Max is new. They just tell people it's a coincidence.

Oscar has always walked her to her garage. Currently, it's towards the end of the paddock. Meaning they have to pass Alpine to get to it.

Max takes not of how Oscar refuses to look anywhere but the ground. He can't see the female since she's on the other side of Oscar, but he can hear her seething.

The Australian visibly relaxs when they are past.

It sucks saying goodbye to her. They woke up this morning, and it felt perfect. The morning rays leak through the window, limbs tangled up in each other. None of them wanted to get up or leave.

Now, the first had gone off to work, and Max and Oscar were left to walk back down.

Max makes it a point to walk on the side closest to the hospitality entries. He doesn't say anything as they near the door. Some of the guys in charge meandering around right outside.

"I know what you're doing." Says the Australian.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Max looks at him and winks. Somehow, the action calmed Oscar's overreacting brain.

Max waved off Oscar as he jogged to catch up with Lando. The Brit shot him a few confused glances. The ones that said he has questions.

Lando may he an idiot, but he's not as oblivious as everyone thinks he is.

Max leaves that for another day.

She knew something was off with the Austr as soon as he entered the room. They're all exhausted from the race, but he was completely void of life.

There's no goofy smiles or sarcastic jokes. Just Oscar, sitting on the bed staring at the wall. She can see him processing something. Whatever it is, it can't be good.

She looks at Max. The Dutch just stares at her with confusion. She'd learned that his upbringing made him mildly clueless when it came to dealing with emotion.

With that in mind, she sets off to Oscar's side. She sits down next to him and takes his hand in her own. "Jack, you gotta talk to us." She signals Max with her eyes to sit on the other side of him. Good thing she's not clueless or they would be in trouble.

"It's stupid drama stuff."

"It's not stupid if it's making you upset." She puncuates with a kiss on his cheek.

"Stupid Alpine and their stupid comments. Apparently, I am not the most expensive but terrible rookie to ever be signed." He sighs. They can hear how he tries to pass it off, but they both know he's lying.

"Lies and slander. You're the best rookie this season. You're driving a tractor right now for fucks sake." Max says.

"Logically, I know that. Emotionally, I don't."

"And you're not required to know that yet, technically speaking." She counters, causing the Australian to roll his eyes.

Max chuckles to himself. “I could crash my car into their garage if you really want me too.”

“As funny as that sounds, I would rather you win if neither of us can even get close.”

“…at least you two are consistently in the points!”

Tuesday again. They all lay asleep in bed together. Max opens his eyes for a moment and catches the females gaze.

She places a finger over her lips and points at Oscar. The Australian breathing evenly, sound asleep.

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the-black-manor · 10 months

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Bad Decisions

Vampire Dom x GN Human Sub Requested by @transpunkslut

Summary: You've been living with your vampire for a few months, but you've never been fucked by him. Tonight, you found the nerve to ask him to be intimate.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, blood drinking,

Kinks: Vampire, terato, blood drinking, master/pet, excessive cum, primal play, oversized cock, rough kisses, multiple orgasms

Words: 2,140

More writings on Patreon.

You had been living with him for a while now, the vampire. It started with a swipe right and an invitation to dinner that you couldn't bring yourself to refuse. He was honest from the very beginning - even before you got to his mansion - that he intended to drink your blood. You still went, and here you still were, months later.

You were cattle to him. Fresh blood in the pantry. That's why you hadn't gotten up the nerve to ask him to do anything more with you. Anything... intimate, even though you so desperately wanted to feel him inside of you. You doubted he would say yes. The night began as it usually did, with breakfast in the living room before the fire as snow fell in heavy flakes outside the grand windows. You were breakfast, of course. After that, things progressed as they usually did, though he seemed to be more present than usual. More attentive.

You were talking and laughing, telling stories, when he rested his hand on your bare leg and gave you that dazzling, sharp smile you had come to adore. Later, he squeezed past you in the kitchen between the island and the counter, his crotch rubbing against your ass as he went. Then, when you were reminiscing about something upsetting, he had taken your hand in his and gave you a soft kiss on the knuckles. There were more instances than these - many more - and every time he so much as grazed you, your heart skipped a beat and your stomach fluttered. Your head was spinning all day, your legs clenched together to provide some friction.

The sun began to rise, and you were beginning to lose control of yourself. He wouldn't need to feed again so soon, but god you wanted him to. Maybe you could convince him to have a snack...

You rapped gently on the heavy walnut door that closed his office off from the rest of the house.

"Come in," his voice came from the other side, always friendly, always inviting.

You stepped into the office and closed the door behind you, then padded forward on bare feet.

"What are you up to?" you asked.

He glanced up from his paperwork to see you in nothing more than an oversized sweater and underwear.

"Working," he replied, and there was curiosity on his lips.

You stepped around his desk, and he turned his chair toward you instinctively.

I hope he doesn't kill me for this, you thought as you sat on the edge of his desk.

"What are you up to?" he asked.

You bit your lip nervously.

"Are you hungry?" you asked.

"I'm always hungry."

You tugged the sweater off one of your shoulders, revealing your neck and the puncture scars there.

"You know I won't feed on you in such quick succession, darling." His voice was part purr, part growl, and despite his words, his pupils were blown.

"I know. But you're hungry and I want to make sure you're well fed."

He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing, and rested his hands on your legs. He was cool to the touch, but his hands were soft, and the contact send electricity up your spine. You spread your legs, only barely.

"What are you doing?" His voice was low. Warning.

"I'm being good," you answered.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. No doubt he could hear it.

He smirked.

"You're trying to seduce me, aren't you, you little minx?"

You smiled and tried to avert your eyes, but he forced you to look at him with one clawed finger beneath your chin.

"I just want to make sure you're well taken care of... Master."

You had never called him that before, but you saw a fire start behind his blood red eyes when you did. He stopped breathing as yours picked up. He didn't need to breathe, of course, but it had become habit to make you more comfortable. Now, though, he was struggling to restrain himself, so breathing wasn't on his list of priorities.

You took hold of his wrist and slid his hand over your thigh and between your legs, where you pressed it against your crotch.

"I'll hurt you."

That wasn't a threat. It was a warning.

"No, you won't. You wouldn't do anything to risk losing your steady meals."

His pointed tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

"I know you want to, Master. Please. I want it too."

"I know what you want, pet, and it's not for me to drink your blood..."

Despite his hesitance, he pressed his palm against your crotch and began to massage. You let out a huff of breath and your hips jerked forward of their own accord. He pushed his chair out and stepped between your legs. His face was inches from yours, and you could feel his cool breath on your cheek. He smelled like vanilla and nutmeg.

"This is a dangerous game you're playing," he whispered.

"I know."

One hand worked between your legs while the other came up to cup the back of your neck.

"Once we get started, I won't be able to stop."

"Good."

"It will take hours."

"I hope it does."

"You don't know what you're asking for."

"I don't care."

"Your body won't be able to handle it."

"Try me."

Finally, he allowed all reservations to crumble and fall away, and he pressed his lips firmly against yours, holding you steady by the back of your neck. He wasn't gentle. His tongue snaked into your mouth to dance with yours. It was long and slick and strong, and he easily dominated you. His saliva tasted like honey cakes, and you throbbed underneath his palm. Your skin prickled with want. You could feel his long nails digging into the nape of your neck, but you knew he wouldn't break the skin. He wouldn't want to waste any of the crimson wine that flowed through your veins. You wanted him to touch you. You wanted to feel his hands on every inch of your body.

His tongue snaked down your throat and he fucked you with it as his hand made its way past your underwear to paw at you properly. You allowed him to continue as long as you could before you had to push him away to gasp for air. He might not need to breathe, but you definitely still did.

He didn't allow a second to go by before his mouth was on your neck and he sucked deep bruises into the soft flesh.

"M-more..." you begged. "Please..."

He licked a long line up the side of your neck, following your carotid artery, and then his hands were on the hem of your sweater, tugging it up and over your head, and your underwear down and off. He tossed them both to the side and then pressed his chest against yours, forcing you to lie back on the desk. He ground his clothed member against you. You could feel the thick bulge in his pants. He was... much bigger than you expected.

"Please..." you whined again.

"Please what?" he purred in your ear as his fingers tangled in your hair.

"Please. God, fuck me, please."

"You can call me Master," he replied, and you could feel the smirk on his lips as he kissed you again.

Your head was cloudy, filled only with thoughts of him, with wants for him. Your body ached and you arched up to meet him as he pressed his hard cock against you.

"Please..."

A tear ran down your cheek. You couldn't take this teasing. You needed more.

When it seemed as if you might pull your hair out, he finally reached down between your legs. You heard his zipper, and then his cock sprung out of his trousers to slap against you. His length was throbbing and hot, and you nearly screamed in frustration.

"Master, please!"

His cockhead pressed against your entrance, his precum lubing you up, and then, agonizingly slowly, he began to push himself inside. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a moan as the head slipped in, and you clenched as the bulging shaft followed, stretching you painfully wide.

God, he was big.

He bottomed out, buried completely inside of you. You were soft and warm around him. He stilled, allowing you a moment in which you panted and spasmed around him, trying to acclimate to the sheer size of him. He was breathing heavily and you wondered briefly why. It didn't seem like he was doing it to make you comfortable, but more like... he couldn't help but pant.

"M-move. Please, move."

He pulled out, leaving only the tip of his cock inside, before he slowly buried himself deep once more. He set a steady, slow pace, and you were grateful. You had never taken anything so big, and you felt like you might break. You hurt with each thrust, stretching painfully, but your moans gave away the pleasure you were feeling. He crushed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, and his tongue snaked into your mouth a third time. The taste of him... god the taste of him. It made you wild. Feral.

He picked up the pace and you grimaced against the discomfort, but it quickly faded into bliss.

"Uuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." you moaned, long and low.

Your voice caught each time he thrust into you, breaking the word into pieces that got caught in his breath and fluttered away to swirl around the room like music.

"You feel incredible," he broke away just long enough to pant into your ear. "I should have done this sooner."

"Have you ever... nnnng... drank from someone... oh god... while they came?"

"I'm about to," he growled and sank his fangs deep into your neck just as his cock hit exactly the right button.

You came hard, clenching around him so hard it hurt. Your eyes rolled back, you arched up into him, you clawed at his back. He didn't stop thrusting, fucking you hard and fast through your orgasm as he drank deep. Your head spun as you came down. You tapped on his shoulder.

"S-stop... Gonna... Pass out..."

You felt the confliction in the muscles of his arms and chest as he struggled to let you go.

"Master..." your voice was barely a whisper.

Finally, he tore his mouth away from your neck and froze, gulping in deep breaths as he tried to calm himself.

"Master."

His head whipped around to look at you. You had never seen him like this before, so primal. So... monstrous. His eyes were wild, his hair was a mess, his lips were painted with your blood, and the tips of his wicked fangs were visible beneath his frown. You reached a hand up and stroked his cheek gently.

"Cum in me."

He didn't need you to tell him again. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his pace, hammering into you like a beast breeding its mate. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around him as he fucked you. Minutes passed... First five, then ten, then more. You came at least three more times before he was done. Finally, when you thought he was going to split you open, he pushed inside of you so deeply that you were scooted up on the desk.

The snarl that ripped from his throat was unlike any sound you had heard him make before. It was desperate. His cock throbbed aggressively inside of you as it released cum like a faucet. He filled you quickly, and you dug your nails into his back to help ground you as the sheer volume of his seed forced your insides to stretch. More minutes passed. Two. Three. The heat of his cum was bliss. Knowing that there was no way it was leaking out past his bulging manhood was ecstasy.

He thrusted as he began to come down, seemingly trying to get deeper, and with the heat of his seed, the throbbing of his cock, and the thrusting of his hips, you couldn't help but cum again. You nearly blacked out from the force of it.

After what seemed like an eternity, he relaxed on top of you, shaking. You went limp beneath him, allowing your arms to fall to your sides. Your bare chest heaved. You licked your lips, and he licked his.

"That was incredible," you panted.

He didn't smile, didn't chuckle. Instead, he pushed away from you, hooked his arms beneath your legs, and glared down at you with dark eyes. It was then that you realized he was still rock hard inside of you.

"I told you this would take hours."

Your eyes went wide as he began to thrust.

"I'm just getting started."

#my writing #vampire kink #monster kink #monsterfucker #terato #inflation kink #impreg kink #primal kink #primal play #master/pet #pet play kink #excessive seed kink #overstimulation #oversized cock #blood kink

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Text

Day 14: Orgasm Denial - Remus Lupin

Kinktober Day 14: Orgasm Denial - Remus Lupin

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, possessive!remus, marking, spooning sex, rough sex, choking, orgasm denial, cockdrunk, creampie, cockwarming, teasing, nicknames, no use of y/n

my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link

It was nearing the full moon and Remus was in a devilishly bitter mood. He always was when it came to this time of the month and your stomach seemed to constantly be unsettled with anticipation as it also made him extremely possessive.

His scarred hands would always hold onto yours a little tighter, or be resting against your lower back, steering you around Hogwarts so everyone knew you were his. Then there was the possessive grabbing and pulling onto his lap, hands settled under your skirt, eyes glaring at any other person who would get in a 6 feet radius of you.

He was always so remarkably different during times like these, compared to the soft loveable Remus who would caress the back of his knuckles across your cheeks, soft kisses against your temples on parting whereas now, you were lucky to be able to even go to the toilet without him there, watching your every movement, it was more than intense.

Another factor about the full moon was that it made him beyond horny, at any opportunity he would be pulling you into a cupboard, behind a tree or even an empty corridor. It was exhilarating, the thought of someone catching you both and the way he was obsessed with your body and soul, you loved it

But merlin, it was exhausting.

This leads to today, you’d been up for 20 hours, either studying, fucking or trying to calm Remus down as he tried to start many an argument just for someone looking at you for one second too long, all you wanted to do was sleep.

Trudging with heavy steps, Remus close behind, you made it to the boy's dormitory where you usually slept since being with Remus and there was no way he would let you sleep in your own room when he was in moods like this.

Dropping your school bag onto the floor, you collected your pj’s that lay on top of his bed. James’ laugh filled your ears as he sat on his bed, staring at your tired expression, “just spray him with water” he joked, eyes flicking to Remus who growled possessively.

James and Sirius were the only two that could get away with joking around Remus when he was like this but they still had to be careful so you ignored the joke and pulled Remus into the bathroom to get change.

As soon as the door was closed, Remus's warmth was at your back and all you could do was sigh, pulling off your jumper and unbuttoning your shirt before his hands were on you, mouth attaching to your bare shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave a mark before biting. You had to admit, it did feel so good and he always like to leave claiming marks over your body in areas that no one else could see but you also couldn’t hold back to heavy yawn that caused your body to shake.

Remus stopped, grip loosening as you turned to face him, hands coming up to rest around his neck, playing with the short hair at the base of it, “Sorry I’m just so tired tonight”. Standing on your tiptoes, you kissed his lips briefly, trying not to cower under his eyes as he squinted down with a suspicious gaze. “Sorry”.

He kissed your cheek, rather than speaking and you visibly relaxed, glad he wasn’t upset by this before moving to change into your oversized Gryffindor t-shirt and shorts, even though it was getting cooler outside, Remus was almost like a radiator of heat during the days up to the full moon and always kept you close.

After the two of you were changed, Remus only remaining in his boxers, the two of you stepped back into the dormitory. “Night boys” you mumbled pulling back the sheets and climbing in, leaving enough room for Remus who did the same.

You heard a muttering of goodnights back before Remus waved his wand so the curtain surrounding the bed swept across, hiding the two of you from view and then the faint buzzing noise filled the air as he placed a silencing charm over the bed so the other’s couldn’t hear either of you.

Remus lay his arm out for you to lie on which you did happily, smiling as he curved his body around yours, making you feel safe and warm in his strong embrace, his lips kissing the back of your head as he spooned you from behind.

“I love you Remus” you mumbled, already drifting into a deep sleep, only just hearing him respond ‘i love you too’.

Next you woke, you felt disorientated, not quite sure what time it was but seeing that it was still dark through the gap between the curtain. Only the soft sound of Remus’ deep breathing against your neck could be heard so why did you wake up? Shifting on the bed, you felt it, the hard lump against your rear.

This was when you realised that Remus in fact wasn’t asleep, his lips delicately grazing over your neck. Your body stretched out, feeling blissful and ‘accidentally’ grinding again him, “Remus” you whispered his name in want.

His cock throbbed against your arse and he began trailing his hand over your hip and across the soft skin of your stomach. Remus’ touches were soft but thorough, making sure to glide across every inch of skin causing goosebumps to sprinkle over your limbs, his name spilling from your name like a plead, still lost slightly in sleep but needing more.

“I’ll give you what you want” Remus finally spoke, his voice almost so low it just came out as a growl as his large hand eased your leg up and over his hip, spread you over as his hand disappeared to pull down his boxers, freeing his cock.

You hummed as he humped against your clothed core before he pulled the loose short material between your legs to the side, giving him the perfect access to push his cock into your folds, moving deeper and deeper until with a quick thrust he was buried into your awaiting cunt.

His hand came up now to grip your throat, teeth nipping your ear as he began to fuck you deep and hard, hips slapping against yours, chasing both of your highs. Lifting up your shirt, your fingers squeezed your nipples, stimulating them to peaks as you tried to match the roll of his hips against yours.

The tight grip that had on you kept you still against his chest and it wasn’t long before you could feel the invisible cord becoming tight in your cunt, building up the pleasure, so close when he pulled his cock out, leaving you mewling and trying to reach down for your clit, wanting to cum but his movements were quicky as he easily was able to grip both of your wrists.

“What the hell, Remus?” you angrily asked, trying to turn your body to look at him over your shoulder but he didn’t budge his grip, keeping you there so you were forced to listen to his sinister voice against the shell of your ear.

“I thought you didn’t want this?” You groaned in want as his cock brushed against your clit, teasing which only caused your hips to try and shift up to catch your hole. Remus chuckled darkling, “Not so quick pup.”

It was torturous what he was doing, he waited until your body had calmed down enough that the sensation of orgasm had disappeared before he fucked back into you, holding you tightly, to his body. He was relentless, his stamina much stronger during the approach to the full moon giving him the energy to fuck you hard, bringing you to the brink of orgasm but pulling out.

Repeating this motion again and again, not caring about your achy cunt as it dripped its juices onto the sheets below, matching the dribble escaping your mouth and onto Remu’s arm as you lost all normal thought about three-edged orgasms ago. Your skin was hot to the touch, sweat coating your body, breathing heavy, heart pounding your chest, you were exhausted but still craving that orgasm that Remus still didn’t provide.

You weren’t even sure how long it had been? 10 minutes? A couple of hours? Either way, you were cock drunk, and couldn’t think coherently as all you could do was listen to his grunts and the sound of his hips slapping against yours.

Remus stopped, holding your trembling body and knew you’d reached your limit, grunting as he spilt his seed, fingers drifting south to play with your otherwise untouched clit.

“You can cum pup” you couldn’t even hear his voice over the roar in your ears as finally after what felt like a lifetime, your pussy convulsed, clenching with dear life, eyes rolling back. It was almost too much to cum, body reacting of its own accord so much that you had to hold onto Remus’ arm for support as he whispered how good you were in your ears.

Remus didn’t even pull out, remaining nestled in your sensitive cunt, as you immediately fell asleep, a sweet smile on your face of satisfaction.

#remus lupin #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fanfic #young remus lupin #young remus lupin smut #marauders smut #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #hp smut #hp fanfic #mine*

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l0velylecter · 1 year

Note

Phillip graves head canons? :)

— headcanons on phillip graves ( sfw & nsfw ) pairing : phillip graves / gn! reader fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii rating : g for general and safe for work (sfw!) for the first half + e for explicit, minors don’t interact (mdni!), not safe for work (nsfw!) for the second half warnings : graphic descriptions of sex in the second half note : font is normal sized under the cut

safe for work ( sfw )

01 | He hates sleeping with the blankets around his neck, and in general, when the weather gets even slightly humid, he'd tear the sheets off his body. Phillip falls asleep very quickly, especially when you're around. Mid-sentence, you'd look down to your lap, and he'd have his eyes closed, breathing: soft and even. You find him passed out on the couch, on the chair by the patio. He prefers to have you with your head atop his chest, your hand absentmindedly stroking, soothing it in soft, gentle circles. The only downside is when he's away, he takes longer to sleep: thumb absentmindedly stroking the space above his heart.

02| Physical touch is his love language. Hand holding, fingers intertwined as you walk side by side. He'd occasionally lift your knuckles against his lips, palm flat across your cheeks to raise your head for a kiss — fingers, followed by his mouth, ghosting down your spine, your arm, your nape. He'd stretch across the bed to pinch ( never too roughly) the side of your thigh, already playful and eager to pick on you (lovingly) even when you've just swung your legs over the bed, barely awake with a bedhead he loves to ruffle. When you're next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, and you shift forward to leave, Phillip always asks where you're going. Under your touch, he melts — he blooms: stripped off his armor, he lays himself bare to you. Unashamed and indulgent.

03| He drives with the window slightly cracked open at the top. He likes the feel of the wind skimming his hair, his skin. In his blue cotton button-down, sleeves rolled up his arms. When under the heat of the southern afternoon, he always has sunglasses on — Dita Flight.006 with the frames thin and shades tinted. You know he hates driving alone, and even if he never tells you outwardly, he prefers to have you in the passenger seat. With the radio on and the two of you trying to snap your fingers to the beat, Phillip fails to get it right on purpose so he can see you laugh. With his accent, thick and unrestrained when he's back home, you call him a country hick. He doesn't deny it.

04| Out of his uniform, Phillip is impulsive and flies by the seat of his pants — a man who despises boredom and being alone. He never sugarcoats; sure, he loves using colorful phrases that leave you blinking at the incredulously of it, but if the man has offended you or hurt your feelings, there's a high chance that he won't notice unless you tell him. To Phillip, you're just having a conversation, and Phillip's usually more concerned with whether you caught his drift than yours. Yet, shortcomings aside, he bleeds and breathes confidence; commands authority with just the flick of his wrist. You know Phillip tries, and it shows. After every argument, when you finally find the strength to open the door, he'd be right outside: back against the wall with his legs outstretched, waiting, patient, even if he's constantly watching the clock. He makes you feel valued, protected, and appreciated: he keeps you on your toes, and you can never hate him.

not safe for work ( nsfw & mdni ! )

01| Even when you fuck, his arrogance is still there, simmering beneath the surface, occasionally leaking through the gaps to bleed into the way he kisses you. He loves having you bent over tables, against walls, and pressed against the driver’s seat. He loves to suck, to bite, to mark. He's not against being rough with you, but he never crosses the line. When Phillip is always eager to try new things and experiment — to push, to challenge, to drive you past your limits, to have you whining, crying out against his chest, a safeword is always ready. Spanking, ropes, cuffs, maybe even a daddy or authority kink if you squint. He's a dom, and he likes to tease. But he's open to being a switch; as I said, the man's adventurous.

02| But Graves isn't just about fucking. Most of the time, when he sees you for the first time in weeks, in months, he'd spread your legs almost gently, slowly, each movement careful as if to savor the moment. He's warm and desperate inside of you — going on and on about how he's missed you: lips brushing the shell of your ear. His arm, caging you underneath him, the muscles down his back, taught and tired from work. And when he comes, he’d be kissing you: deep, open-mouthed kisses, in a rare yet not unwelcomed show of slow-burn passion.

03| Big on dirty talk. This man cannot shut up, even in bed. Even with his face pressed against your weeping hole, he’s spewing out filth: sinful and wicked, you can feel the edge of his teeth skim your inner thigh. Leaving you to trap his head between your legs as they quiver.

" What's the matter, baby?" He'd chuckle, mocking how you can only pant and whine against the pillow as he pistons in and out of you, " Cat got your tongue?"

Cursing, groaning, whimpering: we all know this man can get vocal.

04| Phillip might lack common emotional sense, but he's not cruel, and most importantly, he's not stupid. Most of the time, aftercare involves a warm shower before passing out on the bed together, and when your legs wobbled: still sore and aching, he'd carry you under the shower head to support you with his body. You can feel his smile against your temple, somewhat apologetic, only to make up for how smug it made him feel. He'll dry your hair and give your ass a light smack before settling atop the bed, arms already finding their way around your waist.

a/n : thanks for requesting anon ! this was really fun for me to do as i am currently having a phillip graves brainrot 🥴i base a lot of his personality traits from his mbti : estp ! + the sunglasses featured here is actually the same sunglasses tony stark uses in civil war ( it’s ray band, and considering how patriotic graves is, he probably refuses to buy glasses from anywhere else. i mean i bet his car is even a black, ford pickup ) i hope you enjoy <3

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m-ayo-o · 10 months

Text

Mr. Fushiguro [I]

flirtation and humiliation with your professor part one | part two wc 2200

You have a meeting with Mr. Fushiguro, your personal tutor, this afternoon regarding your dissertation. You're dreading it a little, not only because you're unsure what your project will be, but Mr. Fushiguro is also incredibly intimidating and attractive. You often feel nervous during his seminars, or passing him in the corridor, but being alone with him makes you pretty anxious.

Despite feeling nervous, you arrive outside his office a few minutes early so as not to displease him. He hates tardiness. It seems as though he can hear you hovering outside his door as your knuckles hesitate inches from the wood. “You coming in or what?” You hear his deep voice, muffled from the inside.

You enter, a little startled, and step up to his desk as he flicks through some paperwork. He looks up at you as you stand fidgeting near the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. “Sit.” He mutters and returns to his work. The quick glance he gives you with his striking green eyes is enough to make your heart rate increase as you take your seat.

You feel intimidated by everything he does, everything he says, and it's like he knows you're so weak for him. The way you blush under his gaze and your shy glances at him give you away. You also avoid spending time with him alone, not without him noticing of course.

In fact, he notices and takes advantage of this. He often requests that you stay behind after lectures, just so he can talk to you some more, usually about your studies or just pointless small talk. He enjoys watching you squirm.

But today he can't be avoided. You fiddle with your skirt and wait patiently for him to finish what he's doing. As the clock ticks over to 4pm Mr. Fushiguro sets down his papers he was marking and straightens up in his chair, looking up at you with his piercing green eyes.

“Y/n,” he greets you like he's only just seen you, “remind me what our meeting is about today.”

“I need to decide… what my dissertation project will be, sir,” you reply.

He taps his pen on the table, “Mm hmm. That should be easy for someone like you,” he strokes his neck then stretches his arms over his head, desperate to move after sitting down for too long.

“So, have you had any thoughts, y/n?” You look down, feeling flustered as his muscles flex, his shirt pulling tight over his chest. “Um…” You murmur and twist your hair.

“Look, did you come here for a chat or not?” He asks flatly. Mr. Fushiguro is impatient and snappy at times, which adds to his intimidating personality.

“S-sir, it’s not that I–” you start, unable to find your words as you look up at him again, watching his lips curl into a slight smirk. He’s enjoying the embarrassed look on your face as you can barely look into his eyes.

“So, what is it then?” His voice sounds rough and deep. You look down into your lap again, then try to look up at him, “I, I– I’m sorry, sir. I’m a little stuck for ideas at the moment. Can we discuss this over email?” You blurt out your excuses, unable to withstand his intense glaring for a second longer as you suddenly stand and turn, ready to bolt for the door.

“Y/n.” Mr. Fushiguro’s deep voice stops you in your tracks. He steps around his desk and sits on the edge as you turn to face him. He raises his finger and beckons for you to come back. “I told you to sit. I don’t remember permitting you to leave just yet,” he says as you step back towards him, your legs quivering as you fight the urge to run.

He pats the chair that’s right below him now, encouraging you to sit in front of him again– this time much closer. Although you feel like you're being ensnared in some kind of trap, you sit and peer up at him as he gets comfy on his desk, one leg lazily dangling off the edge as the other props him up. His trousers fit him so well– you can see his defined thigh muscles as the material stretches over him.

“If you’re not going to talk, then I’ll have to start.” He looks down at you with a smile. “I’ll begin with a question– one that you should easily be able to answer. Why do you act like this around me, y/n?” He asks as if it’s the simplest question in the world.

“A-act like what, sir…?” you trail off, realising that he’s going to be dissatisfied by this non-answer. “Don’t answer my question with another question, y/n.” He snaps predictably, furrowing his eyebrows. He waits, tapping a big finger on the wooden desk and raising an eyebrow at you. You know he won’t repeat himself.

“Ok, I’ll try an easier question.” His expression shifts from displeased to curious as he peers down at your blushing face. “Do you find me attractive?” You look down as your hand covers your face. “I-I…” you stumble. “It’s very simple. Yes or no, y/n.”

“Mr. Fushiguro… I, I…” you feel so embarrassed– he must get a lot of attention like this and you figure he might be fed up with it by now; young, inexperienced women fawning over him, unable to express their feelings to him. You presume that he finds it all very bothersome and tiring.

So you try your best to get your head clear and speak to him properly. “Yes, sir.” You say quietly as you look up at him again. “Very good.” He praises you, smiling slightly at your answer. “Now, another question: do you want to fuck me?” He asks flatly.

You can’t help but take your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him pleadingly as if to say, please don’t make me answer that. He’s just doing this to humiliate me. You think as you put off answering him for just a little longer.

But his intense eye contact indicates that he wants you to answer right now. You nod, looking away from his eyes. He sighs and taps his finger on the desk, waiting for you to answer him properly.

You sigh, your cheeks and nose blushing pink. “Use your words, y/n. You’re usually very good at expressing your thoughts in class.” He encourages you.

“Yes, sir…” you manage, feeling totally overwhelmed with shame. You can’t believe he made you admit that. Out loud. You just want to disappear. “Well done. Now that we have that cleared up, would you like to talk about your dissertation project with me?” He asks, sounding insincere as a snarky smile spreads over his features.

He knows you can barely form sentences right now, let alone think about your third year research project that will carry most of your grade for your final year and overall degree. You let out a sad sigh, “I, I don’t think I can… right now…” you admit as you look down. You must look pitiful. That just adds to your embarrassment.

“So, you want me to fuck you first, then talk about your project?” Your heart skips a beat. What the fuck did he just say? Your mind is racing– you presume you didn’t hear him right as you look up at him with wide and confused eyes. There’s a long pause before you murmur, “E-excuse me, sir?” You feel your lip trembling.

He really doesn’t like repeating himself. He just sighs through his nose, his patience clearly wearing thin. He gazes over your body, his eyes trailing up your long legs and hovering over your short skirt. His eyes snap up to meet yours, “If you’re having trouble with that, perhaps you shouldn’t be on my course.” He hisses, looking down at you menacingly.

“Y-yes…” you manage, your voice wavering as you don’t know what he’ll do once you’ve answered. He’ll probably kick me out, or maybe he’ll remove me from his course.

“Yes, what?” You can’t take it anymore; the long pauses, the deafening silence, his fierce glaring have all got you feeling feverish. You close your eyes tight, “I want you to fuck me first, Mr. Fushiguro!” You blurt out, finding it easier to talk with your eyes closed.

“That wasn’t too hard, was it?” He asks, then pauses, tapping his lip with a big finger. “Shall we see just how badly you want to fuck?” He almost lets out a chuckle, his scar curling over his lips.

You’re so close to letting out a whine as you wait silently in trepidation. “What shall I have you do… ah, first please lock the door, y/n.” You sigh in relief and stand to complete your task.

“Ah, ah…” he stops you, shaking his head, “on your knees.” He sneers. Fuck. You should’ve known it wouldn’t have been that easy. Your big eyes look into his, silently asking him do I really have to do this? “If you don’t want to do it, you can leave.” He says simply, giving you your answer.

You turn and try to pull down your skirt a little, earning a low chuckle from your professor as you look back at him with wide eyes. You know he won’t budge. He’s made up his mind and he’s going to have some fun with you before he fucks you. You’re not even sure if he will fuck you.

You slowly bend down and get on your knees as you begin crawling towards the door. You lock it, turn to face Mr. Fushiguro again and start to stand up. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t say a thing, but his piercing eyes stare you down, forcing you back onto your knees. He intimidates you so much.

“C-can I stand up, sir?” He just shakes his head, his eyes following you as you reluctantly lean over, revealing your cleavage to him as your shirt drops.

In the meantime, he’s tilted the blinds and turned on his desk lamp, illuminating the room as you kneel near your chair, wanting to stand up. He looks down at you with a smirk as he’s ready to give you your next instruction.

He makes you tidy his desk, organise his papers, books and stationary. Although this situation is embarrassing, you’re very aware of the fact that he’s turning you on by ordering you around. He’s getting you hot without even touching you.

Next he asks you to sit in his chair and unbutton your shirt. You’re a little hesitant, but you comply, unfastening each button slowly, pausing as you reach just above your bra. “Did I tell you to stop?” He asks, his gaze unfaltering.

You undo one more button then hear a knock at the door. You freeze, sitting below Mr. Fushiguro as he leans on his desk, “Answer it.” Your fingers frantically attempt to button up your shirt. Mr. Fushiguro clicks his tongue, demanding your attention as your eyes dart up to his.

“Did you hear me say ‘do up your shirt then answer the door’?” You shake your head. “No, you didn’t. So answer it like that. You can walk this time.”

Your shirt is barely covering your lacy bra underneath as you answer the door and explain that Mr. Fushiguro is busy. You make some excuses as you quickly close and lock the door again, stepping back towards his desk.

You feel your professor's eyes all over you as you walk towards him. He stops you halfway back and makes you hike up your skimpy skirt. “I can’t believe you decided to wear that to my office.” He shames you for wearing the short skirt, which is kind of revealing (but really cute).

He hands you some books and asks you to place them on the second to top shelf on his bookcase. You can just about reach, tiptoeing and stretching up, but the reason he asked you to do this is becoming apparent as you feel your skirt lifting up further, exposing your cute underwear as your back arches, your ass pushing out.

You're really struggling with one of the books. It's so heavy, your delicate fingertips are having trouble pushing it the last few centimetres onto the shelf. The book suddenly slips from your fingers and falls to the floor, making a loud slamming noise in the quiet office.

You hurriedly bend over to pick it up and try again, but you can hear Mr. Fushiguro clicking his tongue behind you. “That's an expensive edition, y/n. Let me see it.”

You step over to him, his large frame looming over you as you hand him the book, his fingers brushing over yours. He examines the cover, “Looks like you'll have to be punished.” He shrugs and sighs, setting it on his desk.

You try to make your excuses but your professor isn't listening. He beckons for you to come closer. This is the closest you've ever got to Mr. Fushiguro; you feel his breath fanning you and you notice the faintest wrinkles on his handsome face. You stare up at him with wide eyes, daring to meet his.

pt two 💞

toji | m.list

#toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #professor crush #humiliation k!nk #toji x you #toji x reader #toji x self insert #teacher x student #teacher smut

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slttygeto · 2 years

Text

how they initiate sex!

featuring: mitsuya, chifuyu, kakucho, draken and kisaki.

c.w: pussy worship, clit worship(?), pussy drunk tr men.

note: it's a miracle I didn't go to the bathroom and use the shower head half way through writing this.

—mitsuya takashi

he's normally very sweet about this

will walk up to you, stroke your cheek with gentle touches and peck your lips a couple of times before letting it turn into a deeper kiss

but on days where he feels a little bold

he will tease the absolute living shit out of you

backs you against the couch, into a corner, against the wall and then asks in the sweetest tone with such faux sympathy "what's gotten you all red, darling?"

he loves it when you get turned on by him being a little meaner than usual

when he's making you flustered like this, he loves to get down on his knees and kiss your clothed cunt and pretend as if he's having a whole makeout session with your pussy just to see how dripping you'd be once he actually gets to work

yeah, getting you in the mood is so much fun for him 😭

he will make you sit on the head rest of the couch, spread your legs wide and take a whiff of your underwear just to make you flustered.

the fact that you're allowing him to see you like this makes him so fucking hard.

"that's a pretty clit you got there baby. can I kiss it? give it a tiny kiss?"

—chifuyu matsuno

kind of direct, kind of not

you two would be cuddling and his hand starts to slip under your shirt and you kind of think that he wants to fuck but then he just gets up and goes to the kitchen

it's not until like an hour later does he fully admit that he wants to fuck you

yeah, verbally.

"could feel your nipple with my thumb baby—fuck I want it in my mouth, can I put it in my mouth?" he's a goner when you let him suck your tits

he takes so much time with them that you have to beg him to relieve the ache between your legs

he's in awe when he sees your hard clit through your panties

loves LOVES to press your underwear against your cunt because it makes you jolt with the cutest moan

"what a wet little cunt—all for me,"

—kakucho hitto

he's normally a very stoic man outside

but with you? he's very touchy, very romantic and loves to be so close to you<3

when it comes to initiating sex, he takes the romantic route

he will kiss the back of your hand when you're watching TV together, kiss your knuckles and then pull you to his chest

he likes to caress your back, especially your spine because it gets you to purr like a cat against him

the sight of you looking so relaxed in his presence makes him instantly harden

but he will not say anything until he feels you press your lips against his

once that happens? it's game over

he will manhandle you so that you're straddling him and suddenly his touch is much rougher. (even though he hates being rough, you just make him lose his mind)

"rub that pretty cunt against me baby, go for it. I bet it's dripping—can I check? can I see those pussy lips real quick?"

lord have mercy

—ryuguji ken

with him, he's very touchy when he wants something so expect a lot of kisses and a lot of random make out sessions

you could be walking out of the bathroom and he still manages to find a way to grab your jaw and give you such a deep passionate kiss that you're left dizzy when he pulls away

the worst part is that he will keep doing this for at least two hours before he can finally give in to his temptation and fuck your brains out

I mean he will lift you up on the counter, will rub your clothed pussy with his thumb and even press his hard dick against you and have you grind against him but he will absolutely NOT give it to you fully until he sees the little frustrated tears welling up in your eyes

"oh baby c'mere," he coos at you when he sees you standing by the couch, clearly very fucking frustrated with your red cheeks.

"want me to fuck you, is that it?" he wants a verbal response. draken will NOT give you anything unless it comes out of your mouth and you're SURE of it.

"want you to eat me out—it's aching," "I bet it is," he thumbs at your clit through your underwear and the way you jolt away from him has him pinning you down on his lap instantly.

"you're not going anywhere. now give me this pussy, want to see it on my face."

—kisaki tetta (surprise)

you'd think he's not the most direct person

but he literally grabs you but the crotch when you're standing next to him and he's sitting down on the couch that you squeal

you're literally so surprised that you stare at him like ?#!$?2(_

"lift up your skirt for me?" the way he's staring up at you with hooded eyes through his glasses makes you wet instantly. screw him for having such attractive eyes

and you do, you stand in front of him and lift up your skirt and he's smiling the whole time, something that's making you hot with embarrassment

"a little bow, how cute," he whispers before leaning in and pressing his lips right above your underwear

he loves watching you soil your panties just from something as little as a kiss near your pussy

"tetta," you're embarrassingly horny now and he can't seem to take a hint either (or that's what you think)

so when his hand grabs your pussy again and his thumb presses against your clit, you're almost falling on him.

"hold yourself right baby, what'd you do if I ate you out like this?"

a piece of SHIT

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