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cordeliawhohung · 4 months

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you try and fake an orgasm with Simon (based off this post)

when you and Simon fuck, it's always passionate. he refuses to give you anything less than his all, sucking on your clit and pumping your cunt full with his fingers, curling them just like he knows you go crazy for. and it's divine. it brings you nirvana just to slam you right back into your body with its tingling nerves and fizzing skin. he always says the sweetest things, mumbling about how perfect you are, how he can't get enough of you, caressing your body like its a marble statue of a forgotten goddess he can't stop mumbling the name of.

nothing's changed about his love. not his lips on your skin or his cock shoved into your cunt, metal piercings stimulating that spongy spot inside of you. you should be clenching around him, crying out like a bitch in heat, but all the intense emotions that you know should be there are muted. all that pleasure is watered down by some other insidious emotion that's severed that delicious connection that should be there between you and Simon.

still, despite that pit in your stomach eating up that tasty stimulation, you perform. he pulls countless moans from your lips, has your fingers digging into the tense muscle of his shoulders, and yet you are nowhere close to finishing. it feels like you're so far from an orgasm that you've never once experienced it in your entire life. but Simon's been going for so long, pushing all the right buttons in all the right ways, getting you so close to your release and yet so far from it. perspiration sits heavily along his hairline, wetting his hair and making it stick to his forehead in small clumps.

you're taking too long. he's never cummed before you before, Simon's always prioritized your pleasure before his, and the poor man is basically edging himself and has been for what feels like eternity. hushed words always fall from his mouth like a saccharine waterfall when he's close, and he hasn't stopped muttering praise after praise into your ear.

"so fuckin' beautiful, takin' me so well, aren't 'cha?"

when his thumb begins its gentle massage on your clit, you almost cry. it feels so good, but it's tantalizing, promising you the release you desperately crave and yet can't seem to obtain. utter torture. and Simon's watching you through heavy lidded eyes, eager to watch you come undone, and it's all too much. so you arch your back with a desperate pornographic moan while your eyes screw shut in feigned ecstasy. and it's terribly pathetic, pitiful even, but it's all you have. one stupid, paltry faked orgasm.

Simon's movements cease. the pumping of his cock in your cunt, his swirling thumb on your clit; everything. your panting mixes with his in some dull harmony as he leans forward, hands resting on either side of your head while his body hovers over yours.

"sweetheart... what was that?"

all the moisture is sapped from your mouth the moment that question leaves Simon's lips. your current position is terribly vulnerable. stark naked with your boyfriend between your legs and his dick nestled deep inside of you; you couldn't get more exposed than that. however that question made things all the more daunting.

"w... what do you mean?" you ask, unsure if your voice is unsteady because of your exhaustion or anxiety.

"that just now," he explains. "are you tryin' to fake it?"

all you can do is lay there and stare up at him, eyes as wide as saucers and growing with moisture by the second. white hot shame burns through you, searing through your chest and stomach to the point where you feel like you'll be sick. you don't know what to say. lie further, or fess up and tell the truth? instead, you take the secret third option that is bursting into tears.

as soon as the tears fall from your face Simon has you wrapped up in his arms within the instant. no longer inside of you, he makes it so that both of you are lying on your sides, facing one another as you bury your face in his chest. he shushes you, tries to comfort you as he smooths a hand over your head but all you can do is apologize.

"talk to me, sweetheart," he urges, "what's goin' on?"

snot runs thick and heavy in your nose, forcing you to sniffle and nearly choke on the sensation, and still you keep your face hidden away.

"i'm sorry, i just- i just can't. it feels nice but i just can't finish and i was taking too long and, and i just- i don't know-"

"hey, s'alright," he coos, "these things happen sometimes. you just gotta let me know what's goin' on, yeah?"

"i know, i'm sorry," you sniffle.

"nothin' to be sorry about," he assures you. "there's nothin' in the world that you could say to me that would make me mad at you, love. if somethin' isn't workin' for you, i wanna know, yeah?"

all you can do is nod your head in response to him, and he places a firm kiss against the crown of your head. he holds you for a while longer before pulling away so he can sit up. you wipe any remaining tears off of your face as you watch him slip out of bed before holding his arms out towards you.

"c'mon, let's get you cleaned up," he says.

still sniffling, you sit up in bed and stare up at him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "but... what about you?"

equally as confused, Simon leans forward and takes your hands into his as he helps you off the bed. "what about me?"

"you... didn't get to finish," you say meekly.

"yeah, neither did you."

his tone left no room for argument, and you're already halfway out of the bedroom by the time you fully comprehend just what he meant. but it doesn't take long before you forget all about it. you're in the bath and Simon's washing away all the shame and embarrassment from your body. his hands scrub your body clean, and he kisses away the thoughts that plague your mind until you're full of so much love you forget all about what had you upset in the first place.

#mafia!simon #mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader smut #simon ghost riley x reader smut #f!reader

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clairepods · 1 year

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#don’t know what you have til it’s gone huh #hated this when it came out but man I kinda miss weeekly now #ven para was sick but I think the current kpop sphere could use some saccharine stuff like this #now playing on clairepods #Spotify

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asthevermincrawls · 6 months

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the support for ukraine always felt preformative, saccharine, and liberal, but especially now. all the celebrities, bands, musicians, actors, and talk show hosts showing their support for ukraine are silent now. where are the palestinian flags in windows? where is the news coverage? the slogans? the outrage? supporting ukraine gets you approval. supporting palestine gets you fired. it was all fake to begin with. it leaves me feeling bitter and sick. I don't know how I can ever forgive the world

#a.txt #palestine #ukraine

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tojisun · 2 months

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!! nsfw - manipulation; D/s - daddy kink (and issues tbh)

simon thinks about the way you look up to him and thinks, "ah. this will be easy."

it is a thought that worms itself into a vitriolic existence, pungent in the way it taints his memories with you—reshaping the moments, bathing them in a sinful colour because simon cannot resist. not when you are handing yourself to him with a pretty bow.

corruption starts from the ground, spreading like a miasma.

you have gulped the attention he pours over you—devouring every of his honeyed words even when it was his obsession that he fed you, saccharine and guileful—all because it came from his cupped palms. you didn't even notice the ferocity of his infatuation, mistaking it for soft affection and not the sickness that it is.

he led you with gentle beckoning until you confused his possessiveness for him being protective, and then, it was all too late. simon's finally got you ensnared, trapping you within a gilded cage if only to hide the hunger that leaves him frothing.

he swipes the hair away from your face. "y'really like restin' your head on my lap, huh, sweetheart?"

you hum, blinking your eyes open to peer up at him. he watches the way they crinkle as you smile, a breathless giggle passing through your parted lips.

he knows what this means—you've slipped underneath the fog. floaty.

so perfect for him.

"yes, daddy," you reply, words lilting like your tongue's gone heavy.

simon tamps down the shiver that races across his body, hiding the way his lips are twitching into a smirk behind his palm.

"what a lovely darlin' you are f'r me," he murmurs, his voice heavy with pride and giddiness.

so, so lovely. and now, you're truly all his.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cw daddy kink #suns #q #...so like. i bonked my head ajnednd

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murdrdocs · 1 year

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plsss do fem!reader getting a call from ethan!ghostface 😩 could be smutty or maybe 16+!! also ur writing is so good wtf

ahhh thank you so so much i'm glad u enjoy it! i rlly liked this request :)) this is SUGGESTIVE 16+ but not smut

Sometimes, truly, if you sit in silence for long enough, you start to consider that maybe you aren’t the best person, morals wise.

You have your good qualities: helping old ladies cross the street, dog sitting for your friends, helping out sick relatives, doing good deeds without having to be told so.

But the one bad trait, the one you were currently indulging in, seemed to outweigh everything that was good about you.

Allowing some sick joke between you and your boyfriend to continue.

As soon as Ethan switched from his usual, saccharine sweet voice, to the raspy, demanding tone of Ghostface, you should’ve told him to knock it off. Seriously. Not with that light, airy tone in your voice that showed how easily persuaded you are.

But you couldn’t help but let him convince you to continue. Plus, you could’ve pretended that you hated it. Instead…

“Isn’t your line supposed to be: ‘What’s your favorite scary movie’?”

Ethan, or Ghostface, chuckled.

“See, you know the rules, sweetheart. Now, what’s your favorite scary movie?”

You took a second to think, fiddling with the half completed puzzle that you and your roommates have been working on at the coffee table for two weeks now.

“Probably Get Out. Does that count?”

“Is that the one by that comedian, Jordan Peele?”

“Yeah. It’s not really that scary, which is why I like it, but the plot and storyline is horrifying enough.”

Ghostface hums and you decide to take a leap.

“My boyfriend likes those traditionally scary movies, with the jumpscares and excessive gore.”

He takes the bait. “Boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”

“You didn’t ask.”

You take a seat on the couch, your eyes glancing over the window. Briefly, you considered drawing the curtains, but then Ghostface continued to speak.

“Hm, maybe I should’ve. Does he treat a pretty girl like you right?”

“Yeah, yeah, he does.” A beat. “How do you know I’m pretty?”

“Because I’m looking at you, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched. You should have known as much, but just considering the possibility is one thing, having it confirmed is another.

Attempting to play it cool, you stand to your feet and approach the window. “Really? Because I’m calling bullshit.”

You pressed your face to the glass and used the hand that didn’t hold your phone to your ear to shield your view from the light inside of your apartment. You scanned the streets below, the windows across from yours, and anything else your eyes could reach, but you couldn’t see anything. It was late, there wasn’t much activity in your complex, and the streetlight that previously illuminated your section of the complex was still out.

Ghostface chuckled condescendingly. “There’s no point in looking. You won’t find me.”

Stepping away from the window, you surveyed the apartment. Nothing there, save for the organized mess left by yourself and your roommates.

“But you can trust my word. I see how delicious you look in that little number. That tight shirt, those tiny shorts. Looking like a whore, begging to be fucked,” he spat the last bit as if the words were venomous. "maybe gutted," he toyed with the idea, “your boyfriend know you walk around like that?”

Your eyes met the cameras in your apartment, the ones that your roommates decided were needed in this big city. You’d never been more thankful to have them.

“He does,” you took a seat on the couch again, propping your feet up onto the coffee table and positioning yourself to where you could be seen by the camera. Your legs crossed, and you ran a hand along your thigh. “And he loves it. If he could see me right now I bet he would be cumming in his pants.”

There was a hitch in his voice, barely noticeable, but there.

You took his hesitation to spread your legs and trail a hand down to the waistband of your shorts. Your eyes flitted up to the camera, you smiled softly, lifted your hand in a wave, then stuck it into your shorts.

“You said you’re watching me, right, Ghostface?”

#ethansworld!#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface x you #celeste writes scream

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k4vehrtz · 4 months

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⸻ YOURS, MINES, OURS

. ✦ . starring — dom!top! nanami k. / m! reader

warnings — mentions of blood due to a minor injury, soft -> mean -> soft dom! nanamin, cucking ergo exhibition bc kuna def wants to fuck you, possessive! nanami, crybaby! vessel! reader, use and variations of the word slut, established dom/sub dynamic, hole inspection, light masochism, dacryphilia, shower sex, minor daddy / sir k., implied age gap n zero prep . ✦ . wc — 1.5k . ✦ . notes — less of a fic more of a lengthy thirst bc i'm still sick but i really wanted to deliver somethin for you guys so forgive me this once 💔 happy holidays 🎄

it’s 6:15 p.m. when nanami wanders into your garden, still clad in his work attire. the first two buttons of his shirt are undone, his tie hanging loosely around his collar, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. he’s somewhere in between tired and exhausted; dark circles rimming his almost sunken eyes but he’s not quite ready to pass out yet. he won’t give in to the heaviness of his eyes until he sees you.

and he does see you — you’re crouched in a corner, knees buried in a miniature mountain of soil, completely and utterly enthralled by the flowers in front of you.

orchids. a dark pink in the centre, although their petals are a light pink that fades into a pink-stained white colour. they vary in intensity but altogether, they’re beautiful and pink.

“they’re resilient little things, aren’t they?” he muses, his voice thick with drowsiness. which catches you entirely off-guard and has you flinching away, scraping the palm of your hand on a nearby rose bush in the process.

you wince, brows pulled together and lips jutting forward in a pout. nanami feels his heart drop, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach instantaneously.

“fuck,” he curses, a rough edge to his voice, “i’m sorry my love,” as he crouches beside you, cradling your injured hand in his much bigger, warmer palms. it’s not nearly as bad as it seemed at first; a singular scrape stretching across the expanse of your palm. but nanami does his due diligence, wiping away what little blood had appeared with his handkerchief.

“i should’ve made my—” he stops himself mid-sentence and lowers his gaze, arching a brow over the rounded rim of his glasses. “…presence known” he continues, staring pointedly at the tent in your shorts.

warmth creeps up your throat, spreading across the bridge of your nose to either cheek and the tips of your ears as you promptly cross your legs. to which nanami presses his lips together, blowing air through his nostrils.

“that — ” he starts, grimacing, “that must be uncomfortable,” as he takes a seat on the dirt floor of the greenhouse and pulls you into his lap. and you open your mouth to protest against it; he’s going to ruin his favourite slacks. but he presses a long, thick finger to your lips before you can get a word out.

he clicks his tongue, his tone morphing from the saccharine sweetness that you’re used to. nanami isn’t, by any means, harsh with you but his near-silent disapproval is enough to have you curling into yourself.

“i’m sorry,” the words tumble past your glossy lips before you even process them. and nanami responds immediately: “i’m sorry who?” his voice becomes more and more like a rumble as tiredness continues to pull at his sore muscles. but you humour him anyway, “i’m sorry sir,” which earns you a much more content-sounding rumble from the elder man.

“that’s my boy — now let’s get you taken care of inside where it’s warmer.”

skin–to–skin; nanami’s pressed firmly against you and you can’t keep your hands to yourself. cold fingers instinctively go to the curves and contours of his muscled torso; tracing the outline of it all while you chew on your lower lip. it’s hard to tell who’s more enamoured by the other but if you had to think about it (like really hard) you’d say nanami is.

“what are you thinking so hard about silly boy?”

your nose crinkles and a muscle in nanami’s jaw twitches at the sound of the third voice. it’s nothing like the silky-smooth voice that makes your heart flip-flop in your chest. but it has its appeal and is welcomed nevertheless.

“‘kuna i’m not —” you try but he interjects: “liar.” and you have half the mind to argue with him but nanami clears his throat, thick finger curling beneath your chin so that you’re made to meet his gaze.

he’s staring down at you, warm water from the shower overhead dripping from the edges of his hair. his gaze intent as he pushes you against the cold tiles on the wall. there’s a stark contrast between the two temperatures; one that makes goosebumps appear on your skin and provides a twisted sense of pleasure. but that too is welcomed.

“none of that,” and he clicks his tongue again, his distaste for the mouth that had appeared on the back of your palm as clear as day. sukuna, though, grits his teeth and you can’t help but think to yourself that the only thing they have in common is their distaste for each other.

“your blind devotion to a man who could never satiate you is beyond my comprehension,” sukuna smirks, “a slut like you needs a real man to fuck them right.”

a slut.

an onslaught of tears blurs your vision and nanami leans in, warm breath fanning your face. then he sucks in another breath, taking in the floral scent of your shampoo, before exhaling slowly. “did you hear that baby? ‘kuna thinks you’re a slut.” he whispers, emphasizing the nickname in the most condescending way he could. and you nod quietly, obediently in response. staring up at him with those big, innocent eyes of yours that looks the prettiest when it’s wet with unshed tears.

“i know my boy’s got a greedy hole on him,” he continues matter–of–factly, “i mean look at his cock, started leaking back in the greenhouse ‘cause of my voice and now it’s fully hard because you called him a slut.” completely unbothered by the quiet whimper you let out.

and silence — sukuna doesn’t say anything, lips pulled into a tight line. but this does little to discourage nanami who spins you around so that you’re pressed against the tiles, sensitive pecs to glazed clay and your back to him. then he’s pulling your legs apart, spreading your cheeks so that your winking hole is exposed to him.

“in fact, let’s both look at this slutty hole that i fill with my cum as often as i like because, if i recall correctly, you’re resigned to watching.”

quiet whimpers that bounce off of the tiles turn into sultry mewls. he’s being so mean, his voice dropping by an octave or two, and it makes your cock throb. he’s crouching behind you so that he’s at eye–level with your hole and you can’t help but gasp when a thick finger is pressed against it. then he pushes it in, it’s dry and it burns but it’s (like everything else) welcomed without complaint.

“do you see that?” nanami asks, it’s a rhetorical question and even then, not directed at you whatsoever but you find yourself nodding along to whatever he says anyway. “the way it winks at me? that’s because it missed me and the way that it stretches and clenches around me? that’s because i’m the only one who can touch him like this.”

sultry mewls turn into pornographic sobs. the way that he describes everything has your stomach in knots. it’s no longer a want but rather a need. you need him inside of you but he’s taught you better than this — you need to use your words to get what you want.

so, you do, voice breathy as you try to form words in between needy cries. salty tears trickling down your warm cheeks as you string a sentence together. “i need you,” you croak, glancing over your shoulder at him, lips quivering.

and he coos at the sight of you, removing his finger before standing upright and cupping your cheeks. “that’s right, look at daddy, only i can make you feel better, hm?” to which you nod in response and his smile widens, “where do you need me, my love? show daddy.”

you swallow the lump in your throat as you nod again — immediately spreading yourself wide open with your fingers. presenting yourself like this to him, tears and all, is second nature to you. it comes naturally which he thoroughly enjoys.

and nanami groans at the sight of your hole as if it’s his first time seeing you like this and within seconds, he’s aligning the angry tip with your entrance. he brings his lips to your ears, his breath tickling the sensitive skin and sending warmth to your crotch. “it’s going to hurt a little,” he warns, leaning forward to press gentle kisses to your tear-stained cheeks as he pushes himself inside.

he was right, it does hurt. it hurts like a bitch and it takes some time for you to adjust. nanami’s just so big; he makes you feel so full. but after he bottoms out and slowly finds his rhythm you know you’re a goner. pain and pleasure — you don’t know where one ends and the other begins but it feels good nevertheless.

you’re content babbling as he pistons his hips, balls colliding with the curve of your ass every time he thrusts into you. it’s all you need and all it takes for your cock to begin spurting ropes of cum as he assaults your prostate.

#x male reader smut #x bottom male reader #nanami x male reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #jjk x y/n #x sub male reader #jjk x male reader #nanami kento #nanami smut

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dazai-ritualist · 26 days

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hello! it is me again

What do you think if Alastor had a breeding fetish? (Idk if that's how it's written, English is not my native language 😿) oops! It would be nice if you brought some of that to the second part of "no one's better than I am" __if you wanted to ;)

| thanks for your time|

TYING YOU TO ME… ᡣ𐭩

— having you return to alastor, he was more than ecstatic. but, he has to make sure you don’t run off again.

— includes semi-nsfw n pregnancy… i dont condone alastors actions!!

alastor does not want kids. he isn’t against them, but he is rather busy. if he were to be asked, he wouldn’t be the best father either. he doesn’t have much of an idea of how to discipline children, nor does he enjoy playing.

oh, but with his pretty wife home, alastor has to make sure she stays, shouldn’t he? we wouldn’t want another man sweeping you off your feet. neither would he want you running off to the newspapers knowing his little secret— alastor would rather raze the town than hurt his little doe more than necessary.

oh, and, not to mention how gorgeous you’d look; a motherly glow radiating from your skin as you grow a child inside you— a child that was the mixed blood of you and alastor. how you would look so pretty rocking your child to sleep, alastor standing behind you, holding your waist and keeping steady.

alastor gazed at you in awe as you wiped the kitchen counter clean. he took your face in the palm of his hands, kissing you deeply and lovingly, as if your little rebellious incident had never happened.

“alastor? what’s wrong..?” you looked to him confused. “nothing’s amiss at all, dear. just admiring the sights.” he hummed, holding you by the waist as he pushes you onto the now-clean kitchen counters.

as his hands trail further, undoing the knot of your apron— he placed kisses down your neck. “i love you so very much, darling.” he sighed. “say you’re mine, won’t you? say that you belong to me as i do to you.” he pleaded.

your breath hitched as you hesitated. “i… i’m yours, alastor.” you let out, heart stopping a beat as shivers were sent down your spine. did you truly fall in love with him? alastor groaned, smiling widely at your saccharinely sweet words. “ahaha! oh, my dear…” he laughed ecstatically, almost predatorily.

“may i?” he asked, holding the zipper of your dress between his fingers. as you nodded timidly, he noticed your chaste behavior. “what’s wrong, dear? nervous?” he mused. “no… it’s just… i didn’t expect you of all people to… have sexual relations.” you said, slowly as you pick the right words.

“hmph, i’m not particularly fond of them.” was all that alastor said. and though, for the most part, it was true; engaging such physical acts is… repulsive to say the very least. whatever was necessary to keep you in this house. even if he had to make you bear his child in order to do so.

because… this is love, isn’t it? alastor loves you so very much, he’s willing to give you his everything. even the things he wouldn’t want to give.

he pulled you off of the counter, bringing you to the bedroom and he lays you down. taking out a condom. after all, you still have to stay safe.

fuck, how did this happen? you sat, shaken in your doctor’s office as she removed the gloves from her hands. so, it was true? you were… pregnant?

the very thought made you sick to your stomach. that last encounter 3 weeks ago… there was protection. alastor is always very attentive to important matters such as this, there’s no way that your contraceptive wouldn’t have worked unless… it was tampered with.

the thought of him doing such a thing behind your back brought you anger. simmering inside you as you waited for him to return home. “oh darling, i’m home! don’t you look absolutely magnificent?” he grinned.

“break it up, alastor!” you frowned. “oh? what ever have i done?” he asked, big eyes as looked so innocent— he wasn’t even hiding his guilt! “you… messed with the contraceptive, didn’t you?” you said, standing from your seat at the table.

“hmm… so you are with child after all?” he grinned ear to ear. “so, what if i did?” he shrugged. "it’s not as if you have another means to live, i’m the only one who will take care of you.”

“so you did..!” your face scrunched in anger, ready to rip this man to shreds. “ahaha… calm down, dear. all this stress isn’t well for our child.” he rested his hands on your shoulder and stomach, gentle, almost soothing— almost able to make you forget the ordeal he put you in.

“don’t you want this child to grow up with a father? i’ll take care of everything you could ever want for, my cute little doe. just stay here in this house, and we’ll be a happy family.” he said, sweet nothings falling out of his mouth. how foolish honestly.

did you truly think you could nurture that monster into a man?

#BURNT OUT BY LEANNA FIRESTONE MENTION #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel smut #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel

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