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brnesblogposts · 3 days

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monster in his nightmares

pairing bucky barnes x reader

warnings ANGST!!!

a/n can you guys let me know if you can click on my master list and are directed to my fics because it’s not working for me.

reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed !

You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe. Your neck is being squeezed so tight your vision spotting as panic takes over.

“Bu- Bucky” You whisper as best you can in broken breathes, he doesn’t know he’s doing it. He never does, his nightmares are vivid and so real to him and he can’t control his physical reactions, tears are rolling down your face as you move your hand to grip his metal wrist and try loosen his grip, you don’t want it to have to come to violence but the fear you might die and the fear he’d spend the rest of his life feeling guilty for something he couldn’t control- you start kicking him, kicking and hitting. Wake up, wake up you think to yourself

‘No. Stop. Please. Dont put me back in the chair, dont wipe my mind again’ Bucky thinks to himself in a panic as Hyrda agents push him back, how did they find him? how was he tricked into being taken again and now his memory wiped of everything he loves- his memories of you- ‘No.’ The thought of losing you is enough to make him push through and use all his strength, he takes his metal hand and wraps it around the nearest agents neck, it call kicks off into a frenzy then but he fights through it, he watches as the life drains out of the agents face.

“Bu- bucky?” What? No they don’t- they call him soldat- who’s speaking, who’s kicking him? this man he’s strangling sounds like a woman? odd. what’s happening?

He’s in a room, it’s dark. He’s on something soft, a mattress? They don’t give out those in Hydra so he can’t be back with them, who’s underneath him?

“You’re okay” Strangled sobs, you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. “Bucky” You all but desperately whine, that’s when he really wakes up.

Bucky shoots back quickly sitting on his knees as you take in deep breathes of oxygen and rub at your aching throat, he’s bewildered, did he? He hurt you. He hurt his doll.. He jumps off of the bed and backs away, he’s shaking, sweating, he’s starting to violently sob as reality comes crashing down. He almost killed you.

You finally get enough air in your lungs to notice Bucky is gone, you sit up and your heart breaks as you see him sitting against the wall on the other side of the room, looking at his metal hand like it’s a weapon, like he’s sickened by the sight of it. Getting up slowly you approach him and crouch in front of him, at the approach of your hand he flinches.

“No” That one word holding so much pain.

“Get away from me, I- I don’t wanna hurt you anymore Doll” He’s not looking at you, he can’t. If he sees the state of your neck, the bruises he’s left-

“Bucky” You whisper quietly as he shakes his head again, it’s hard for him to comeback down from nightmares but you don’t know what to do in this particular situation, he’s never hurt you because of them before, not this bad.

“It’s not your fault” You reassure him, not expecting an answer but you hope to get through to him, that the reassurance and love you show him right now will help him see he’s not the man in his nightmares.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me” You say as you sit down across him him still giving him space as he holds his head in his hands and cries.

“I’m okay” You don’t care how long you have to sit here, as long as Bucky needs you’re gonna be there for him.

You sit in silence for a few minutes and just watch him as he takes some deep breathes, a technique he learnt in therapy, you get up and grab him some water leaving it by him for him to take in his own time, he does eventually and takes small sips.

A record is playing softly in the background he notices, one of his favourites. He senses your presence, he knows you’re there but he doesn’t understand why. He almost killed you, why aren’t you running away from him?

“I-i’m dangerous, you should get away from me-” He wont meet your eyes.

“I trust you, Bucky.” You don’t know what else you can say to reassure him, he just needs time to come down from this.

“How?” He looks at you now, grimacing as he sees the bruises on your neck. “How can you trust me, look what I did.” He’s so ashamed.

“You didn’t mean to. You were having a nightmare, we can work this out, we can talk to some doctors and see how to get your physical reactions to nightmares under control Buck. If you think i’m leaving because of this you’re wrong. I’m fine, you came out of it and i’m okay” Tears build up behind your eyes but Bucky is so fragile and vulnerable right now you’re trying to be strong for him.

He stares at you for a few seconds, his eyes wet with tears and his face one of shock horror, you can’t hold it back anymore you start to tear up.

“I’m so sorry you have to go through this, I wish I could take it all away, I really wish I could.” You reach your hand out in hopes he’ll let you have that little bit of contact and he does, he takes your hand albeit cautiously and at the contact you start to cry harder.

“You don’t deserve any of it, Buck. You never did. You’re the best man i’ve ever met and your heart is so pure. It makes me so mad to think about what you’ve been through and how it will stick with you for the rest of your life. It’s fucked up and I wish- I wish I could- I want to kill everyone who has ever been bad to you or used you.” The frustration of having to watch Bucky suffer the severe PTSD that he does hurts your heart, it causes your chest to actually ache because he is so sweet, so gentle.

“Don’t cry” Bucky says in response as his heart is being ripped out of his chest at the sight of you so upset. “There’s no need to cry” Despite everything he’s been through seeing you even just the tiniest bit upset hurts him more than anything ever could, so it’s for that reason that he looks past the fear he’s holding and leans forward to pull you into his chest.

You instantly curl up, this is so grounding for Bucky, feeling your heartbeat against his, your skin on his skin, it’s so intimate for him in times like these where he’s taken back to times when he never received simple love like touch, now more than ever he cherishes it.

“Buck-“ You croak out as you kiss his face all over, trying to show just how much you love him. He shushes you and rocks with you, his head clearing and eyes drying up. Your presence alone does more than therapy ever can.

So you both sit there for awhile, the only sounds to be heard is the both of you breathing. You stroke comforting hands up and down Buckys back and through his hair, he relaxes into your touch, into the moment, present. No longer stuck in his nightmare he’s now in a dream, being with you is a dream.

After awhile you speak up “Do you want to go back to bed? Or we can go into the living room and watch a movie or a tv show? Whatever you wanna do” You would do anything for him to be okay, you would take his trauma and deal with it yourself if you could if you knew just for a second that he would finally be at peace in his own mind.

He thinks for a second, contemplating.

“The beds kind of- it’s- too fresh in my mind you know? You can go back to bed baby i’ll go to the cou-“

“No” You cut him off “I’m with you, i’m not leaving your side.” He smiles because he’s grateful for you, with that he stands up, you still clinging to him like a koala and moves the both of you to the couch laying down with you on top of him.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asks.

“Anything you want, whatever is gonna make you feel better” Your hands are in his hair again.

He puts on a lighthearted sitcom that makes the both of you laugh as he strokes his hands up and down your back soothing not just you but himself, the contact keeping him in the moment. That’s how the both of you spend the next hour or so before you hear Bucky snoring lightly, finally sleeping nightmare free and you join him, ready to comfort him should he be woken up again.

—

a/n i started writing this a few weeks ago and then i got busy and then i fixated on something else but anyways i finished it! kind of hate it now tho but i haven’t posted in awhile,

taglist- @ktgsoul @orihimi-19 @mostlymarvelgirl (let me know if you wanna be added to a permanent bucky taglist)

divider by @/cafekitsune

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peachdues · 3 days

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y’all want a little sneak peek of some soft Compass content?

Note that this scene will not be included in Part I, but will be featured in a later installment, should I continue the series.

CW: mention of robbery • injury • gang member!Sanemi • protective Sanemi • slight skip between scenes because this is just a teaser lmao

Your face pales as he thunders toward you. “Sanemi, wait — it’s not that bad —“

But he doesn’t listen; not as he reaches for you, his hands cupping your jaw, trapping you in place. His eyes are wild as he scrutinizes your face, hands tilting your head every direction, assessing.

His eyes run first over the cut on your lip before settling on the bruise forming along your cheek. At the first glimpse of the faint swelling along your cheekbone, his frantic, angry concern melts into something colder; more frightening.

Murderous.

Your fingers wrap around his wrists as he begins to tremble. “Sanemi,” you say lowly, urgent. “Sanemi, I’m okay — it was just a robbery —“

“Just a robbery?” His voice is hard and unforgiving. “Just a fuckin’ robbery?”

“I’m going back to headquarters,” Iguro says quietly, eager to distance himself from the pair. Without another word, Sanemi’s fellow hashira retreats to the back of the store and slips out of the service entrance.

Sanemi makes a mental note to thank him later. His hands remain on your face, his finger gingerly wiping away the smudge of blood where it’s dried on your lip. “What were they after?”

“Just the cash in the register,” you wince. “They were just some petty thieves —“

“Give me names and I’ll handle it.”

“It’s not like they identified themselves,” you say, exasperated. “And I definitely wasn’t about to ask.”

“Descriptions, then,” Sanemi says through clenched teeth as he leads you through the back exit of the store, arm latched firmly around your waist, guiding you to where he’d unceremoniously propped his motorcycle against the alley wall.

“Get on the bike,” and because Sanemi can see you hesitate, can see the protest building on your tongue, he sharply adds, “Now.” He reaches for a spare helmet and shoves it toward you.

You can’t help it. The moment you spy his arm lifting to push the helmet down over your head, you flinch. Hard.

All at once, Sanemi’s panicked anger winks out like a star. His arm drops limply to his side. He does not reach for you again.

He murmurs your name and finally, you look to him, eyes full of guilt that matches his own.

“I would put a bullet in my head before I ever raised a hand to you.”

You nod, mortified. “I know,” you whisper. “I know that.”

And you do. If there was one certainty in this — this thing between you, it was that Sanemi could not hurt you. No matter how angry, no matter how frantic he was, all that fell away the moment you were within his reach.

His voice is gentle, so very gentle as he asks, “Can I touch you?”

You nod and he folds you between his arms. His lips press gently against your forehead and then he breaks away, his hand cradling your face.

———-

You shouldn’t be surprised at the soft knock at your bathroom door; that he’d heard you pitiful attempts to stifle your sobs behind your hand and under the spray of the shower head.

A rush of cool air breaks up some of the steamy humidity of the bathroom. Sanemi softly calls your name. “Can I come in?”

You squeak out a soft yes, your eyes squeezing shut as your tears escape down your cheeks, mixing in with the shower water streaming over you.

He pulls back the shower curtain and his face falls as you shrink back against the soap-scummed tile.

“C’mere,” his hand lands softly at your waist and he tugs you in. You follow without resistance, eager to melt into the reassuring warmth of his skin.

It dawns on you that the arm locked around your waist is half-holding you up, Sanemi bracing your weight against him.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” He murmurs between kisses against your ear, his other hand cupping the back of your head, cradling your face into his throat. “Just let it out.”

#one of theeee most self indulgent fics I’ve written to date lmao #demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader

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sugojosgf · 1 day

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flaky toji 🗣️🗣️🗣️

angst + smut + hurt no comfort

it's right after an argument, so he fucks you like he hates you. words of apology lost in air because both of you knew it would just go back to whatever it was before.

he'll bet against a losing horse again, you'll accidentally call megumi your son, both of you turn a blind eye to the future because any apology is better than bitter silence.

he has you on all fours, his hand wrapping your hair as he pulls you back with such force, you begin to see stars behind your eyes. "fuck! take it-" he groans, when he pounds into you, balls slapping against your skin.

"tooo-toji, can't!!" you whimper out, unable to take any more. your arms weak, from his continuous thrusts, give out and you fall on the bed, face mushed against your pillows.

the air is so dizzy with the smell of sweat and skin with both of your moans bouncing off the walls. you can feel him pulsing inside you, pain and pleasure dancing together.

you start to sob because of how good it feels, tears ruining the makeup you had done earlier. streaks of mascara ran down your soft cheeks and your lipstick smeared all over your lips. your tongue lolls out and your eyes cross and you can't breathe anymore.

"toj,,,,a little slower please- please my love." you whisper with the last shred of willpower left and something changes.

he hadn't been called that in years, and the last time he was called someone's love...

toji stops and pulls out, his cock covered in your juices. he holds your hips, right at your love handles and softly enters you again.

it's different the way he fucks, no makes love to you. it's soft caresses and gentle kisses on your shoulder, slow fulfilling thrusts that don't hurt you with the sudden stretch. it feels like he almost loves you this way. almost.

he makes you arch and revels in your beauty, the tasteful nature of your dip. his calloused hands travel down to your clit and he plays with it, writes his initial on it.

"you are so pretty f'me." he mutters when you come on his cock. even when you whine that it's too much, he doesn't stop.

"i'm almost there-" he groans, "you are so beautiful mama, only for me." as he fills you up. sticky cum dripping out of you even as he keeps you plugged.

and then he tells you how much he loves you,,,

but was it really for you when he's calling you by another woman's name? the same one that the son you consider your own, calls at night when he can't sleep? the one that's actually married to him on paper?

"toji?" you turn to look at him, ears ringing when you hear her name. "i'm not her."

"huh?-" his eyes widen. he sees your face flushed, and eyes glossed with tears threatening to spill. your pretty lips held between your teeth as you try not to sob. he sees the way you look at him, but he also sees that you are not what he wants to look at.

"fuck."

#toji hours 🎍#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #toji x y/n #jujutsu toji #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jjk fanfic

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rainydaydreamsideblog · 2 days

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(The Maze Runner) Imagine: He Protects You

It can be dangerous, especially for the only girl in the Glade.

Warnings: Guys being creeps in the Glade (nothing graphic), bullying, the Maze, danger.

. . .Thomas. . .

It’s a beautiful evening in the Glade. You’re walking straight along the treeline on your way to run a final errand for Alby at the end of the day. The sun is no longer visible, as it already descended far enough to be blocked by the walls.

Suddenly, you get the creeps. It was hard to explain, but you feel goosebumps bloom along your skin, and you get the distinct feeling that you’re not alone. The lovely glow of the bonfire is in your field of vision, but it’s so far away. It’s where most of the guys are gathered. You can hear their distant whoops and hollers, reminding you that help is far away too.

A twig snaps, and your suspicions are confirmed. There’s a figure following several feet behind you, lurking in the shadows cast from the trees above.

So, you veer off your original path to draw closer to the homestead where there would hopefully be someone who hadn’t made it to the bonfire yet. Whoever it was must have caught on to what you were doing because they instantly pick up their pace. You begin to hurry, increasing your speed so that they can’t catch you before you make it to what you hope will be a haven of safety.

Your heart is pounding, and your chest heaving with panicked breaths as you finally make it to the homestead.

“Hello?” you call frantically.

Suddenly, Thomas appears. He sees your nervous state immediately, his hand taking yours. But then his eyes lock onto something behind you, and he moves right past you to intercept your pursuer, effectively blocking them from you.

“What’s going on?” he demands. Your follower is frozen to the spot, stuttering, failing miserably to offer up some sort of explanation. Thomas steps forward, towering over the guy. It’s plain to see that he is furious. His forearms flex and his jaw is clenched. You can hear his angry breaths as he speaks again. “That’s what I thought. Now, get out of here.”

As soon as the guy is gone, Thomas turns around to face you. His close presence eases your fearful state when he steps into your space, filling your nose with his scent. “You okay?” he asks gently.

You manage a nod.

“We’re going to tell Alby right away. This isn’t going to happen to you again. Come here…” He carefully pulls you into his arms for an embrace, as if you’ll break apart if he’s too sudden. You bury your face in his chest, breathing a sigh of relief. His heartbeat is close to your ears, like a lullaby.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

. . . Newt . . .

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The teasing, the taunts… The inability of certain individuals to just leave you alone. Ever since you’d rejected him, Allan had made it his life’s mission to make your existence in the Glade all the more difficult.

Most recently, he had purposely bumped into you at lunchtime so that your meal was spilled all over your clothes and onto the ground. Resources were limited in the Glade. It was understood that wastefulness wouldn’t be tolerated. You couldn’t afford to lose food or have clothing ruined. Fortunately, your clothes would be fine after a wash, but the discarded food was a different story.

You dab at your tank top with a washcloth and pause to look at your reflection in the mirror. It was all too easy to recall how quickly you’d reached your limit after Allan’s ridiculous ploy. Your face is still wet from crying, eyes puffy, and lips parted as you took deep breaths.

There’s no use crying over spilled milk, you thought. Or in my case, spilled lunch.

After composing yourself, you decide it’s time to go back out there and face the music. You toss the damp rag aside and march determinedly out of the empty washroom. To your surprise, you smack right into another individual coming in. You instantly recognize the blonde hair and grumbles of complaint as he reels from the collision.

“Oi, shank, watch where you’re going-” Newt quickly realizes it’s you and clamps his mouth shut, extending his hands to each of your shoulders to steady you gently. He takes in the sight of your tear-stained face with his eyes showing clear concern. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

“Oh, just… Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Newt looks far from convinced, and you lower your gaze. He’s about to inquire further, but a familiar voice sounds from outside the washroom.

“Hey, _______!” Allan calls tauntingly, making you freeze up. “How’s it going in there?”

Newt’s eyes instantly flash, and his face scrunches up anger. You can hardly believe it when Allan continues.

“Sorry about my clumsiness earlier. Maybe I can make it up to you. Come on out before I go in there!”

Newt can’t contain himself anymore. He turns on his heel and heads out of the washroom, and you follow behind just to see the look on Allan’s face when he realizes he’s been caught.

It is so worth it. Allan’s stupid grin falls hard into a look of horror as the Second-in-Command approaches him furiously. He doesn’t lay a hand on him, but he looks like he’s awfully close when he jabs a pointer finger in his direction.

“If I ever catch you bothering her, or even breathing in her general direction again, you’ll be a permanent Slopper for the rest of your time here in the Glade. Do you understand, shank?”

Allan nods quickly, and doesn’t even wait to be dismissed. He just hurries away, leaving you and Newt both standing there watching him flee.

“Coward,” he mumbles. Then, Newt turns to you, resting a hand on your arm in a comforting gesture. “I mean it, you know. He’ll never bother you again.”

. . . Minho . . .

It’s hard not to panic when you glance up and can no longer see the sun above you. It’s the end of the day, and you’re nearly out of time. The lightning pain that shoots through your ankle suddenly just becomes too much. You lean against one of the ivy-covered walls and exhale.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it,” you say aloud, and the words weigh heavily on you. You mentally scold yourself. You can’t afford to think that way. A Runner knows better. With a wince, you continue limping on your way. It’s not that the exit from the Maze isn’t close. If memory serves you right (which it did), it wasn’t too far at all… but at your pace, it would take a lot of effort and some good luck to get you back in time.

Just when you are about to give up again, you hear footsteps rapidly approaching. Your first thought is that perhaps your cowardly companion had a change of heart, but the footsteps didn’t match.

“Hello?” you call.

“_________!” Minho’s voice responds, and your heart swells with hope. You aren’t out of the woods just yet, but your chances were much better with help. Minho nearly slides to a stop in front of you, instantly taking your arm and putting it around his broad shoulders to help you up. There is no time to stop and compare notes, so you update him as he begins helping you back along the path.

“I sprained my ankle.” You hold onto Minho like he’s your lifeline as you push through the pain to keep up with his pace. He’s right to go so fast. Time is running out.

“Where’s Derek?” he asks with a grunt.

“He…he left me,” you gasp in pain. “I think he was worried he wouldn’t make it out in time if he helped me.”

Minho goes quiet for a moment, and you can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His eyes are focused straight ahead at the path, and he huffs. Finally, he bites out a sarcastic comment. “I think it’s safe to say that he’s getting demoted from being a Runner.”

You keep talking, trying to distract the both of you from the familiar groan of the Maze walls shifting. “Why did you come out here?”

“Because it was getting late in the day, and no one had seen you,” he pants. “Usually, you check in with me right away. I knew something had to be wrong.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

You continue limping with all your might toward the gate, feeling your heart jump, as the walls on either side begin their agonizingly slow crawl to a close. There’s a small group standing on the other side, ushering you both out anxiously. It was mostly Keepers, a select few who had been informed of the problem by Minho.

The two of you fell onto the green grass, gasping for breath, while the others surrounded you. Alby knelt down beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder. You just let yourself breathe, tears welling up in your eyes from relief.

“So it’s true?” Gally questioned, brows raised. “Derek left her in there.” “Yes,” Minho replied, sitting up. “And he will face the consequences.” He looked over at you, finally catching his breath. “You’re safe now.”

. . . Gally . . .

James had been haunting your steps for far too long. He was always there, always hanging around, and sometimes showing up at the most alarming of instances. What could be done about it? It wasn’t as if he’d taken severe enough action to warrant disciplinary measures, you thought. He was only ever seen staring at you, smirking, and just being an all-around jerk at times.

This time, he’d snatched your tools away from your working station while your back was turned. After uncovering a particularly tough old root, you turned around to get a spade to chop it up, only to see that your things were gone.

A few laughs caught your attention, and you glanced over to see James and one of his shadows standing there, staring at you from several feet away. You couldn’t say for certain, but it seemed like they had something to do with your missing tools.

So, now you’re debating with yourself on the best course of action. Do you ignore him and try to rustle up some extra tools from Newt or Zart? Or do you bother to give this shank the attention he’s so desperately seeking to get your stuff back?

You don’t really like the latter option. Frankly, James gives you the creeps. The last thing you want is to play his little game… But every minute that you spend deliberating is wasted time that could be put towards helping the Glade.

As much as you despise indulging him, you find yourself marching right over to his work area. Both James and his minion are laughing in amusement, shoving each other at the sight of you approaching.

“Do you know where my tools went?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I might,” James replies cryptically. “And I might be willing to strike up a bargain for that information.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “What could you possibly want?”

“Ohh, I don’t know…Perhaps a kiss will do.”

You make a face as the disgust hits you. “Seriously?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a ‘no’ for me.” You wave off the concept, turning around. You decided that your best bet is to find some spare tools. This just wasn’t worth all the trouble. Just as you start to leave, James comes running around to block you.

“Hey now, I didn’t say you could go.”

“Yeah, you might want to think about his offer,” James’ lackey said from behind you. The two of them close in, and you clench your fists in preparation to fight. If you make enough commotion, you’re sure that someone will notice and come to your aid.

You give him one last chance. “Let me pass.”

“Come on, just one kiss. Unless you want more than one after that-” to your relief, James is cut off by a new voice interjecting.

“What’s going on here?” The three of you turn to see Gally standing there, sweating from whatever project he was working on,with dirt and wood shavings on his clothes. His expression looks expectant as he waits for an explanation, though his tall and bulky form makes him appear positively dangerous as he stares the two guys down with his hands resting on his hips.

“I, uh.. We…” They break off in stutters and fumbled words.

“I’m fairly certain they have my tools,” you say, and Gally’s famous arched brows raise at the two guys in disbelief.

“Is that so?” As Gally walks forward, he plants his palms harshly on James’ shoulder, shoving him clear out of the way. James stumbles unceremoniously, almost falling straight into the grass. Gally walks over to the bench and pauses. He picks up a bundle of leather and tosses it to you, the tools rattling inside. “Are those yours?”

You recognize it immediately. “Yes, these are the ones.”

“You shanks had better never even speak to her again. Understand?” He stares at each of them pointedly with all the authority of a Keeper, and they both nod. With that, Gally walks up to you and ushers you away with a warm, gentle hand on your back protectively.

“Your timing was impeccable,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

“They won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I think you already have,” you chuckle.

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pinksugarscrub · 3 days

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Home

Pirate! Hobie x fem! reader

In the famous words of Luffy (Iñaki) future pirate king, "A ship is also a home".

Inspired by Between the Devil and the Sea by @the-kr8tor

(Tossed draft for The Pirate Princess)

The piano echoes in your mind like an endless melody. Tapping your fingers against the edge of the crow’s nest like you would the ivory keys. You can remember the gold encrusted stars in the ceiling. The walls darker than the depths of the sea. How your heels clicked across a tiled floor that was so iridescent it was like you were dancing on glass.

Although you breathe in the salt from the body of water below, you taste something sweet on your tongue as you reminisce. It isn’t sad, just bittersweet.

“Interupting you am I?”

Laughter bubbles out of your lips as you feel a familiar set of arms wrap around your waist. Hobie burying his nose into the crook of your neck. You never grow tired of the warm fuzzy feeling his presence brings you and you can’t help but try to pull him closer so he’s flush against your back.

“Woah!” Hobie chuckles,“a bit early for that isn’t it love?”

You click your tongue. Rolling your eyes as you try to jab his side with your elbow. “Oh hush! You’ve officially ruined the moment.”

He snickers, easily catching your arm before twisting you around to face him. “Officially? What are we, bloody marines?”

The chatter from the crew below helps bring you back to reality. Your new reality. One you wouldn’t trade for the world.

Crossing your arms across your chest you lean against the wall of the crow’s nest. Arching a brow at him as you decide to play along. “At least the marines know what to do when a beautiful woman falls into their lap.”

His grin widens into a smirk you know all to well and you’re already dreading he’ll say next.

“But do they know how to keep their woman satisfied? Hm?” He leans forward. Eyes flicking between your lips and gaze. “Like I do?”

Of course, like the gullible woman you are, you let your eyes flutter shut. You’re confused until you hear him giggle and you know you’ve been duped because when you open your eyes he’s looking down at you with that cheeky look on his face. It’s so infuriating but it apparently still has an affect on you anyway because you feel heat crawl up your cheeks.

You take this moment of loss to your self-esteem to admire his attire. A newly mended white blouse that’s cut to expose some of his chest. (You’ll have to thank Kamala for that later). Signature holster around his waist. Very casual compared to the thick leather coat he adorns when you go into battle.

Personally, you believe your crew has more style than a bird of paradise with how many trinkets and accessories they seem to find each time you dock the Mary Jane.

“Aww darling, c’mere,”he coos. ”You’re so cute when you get all pouty with me.”

You huff in annoyance as you try to keep him away. It’s obvious he’s pretending to struggle but you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s making loud kissy noises while you whine and push your palms against his chest. One on his exposed skin (Were you about to pass up that opportunity? I think not!) and the other on the cotton of his sleeve.

“No! What kind of Captain denies his navigator a kiss!?

He grunts,“The kind that will make up for it later! Now come here-”

You struggle for a moment longer before you hear someone call out to you. The two of you stop. Blinking at each other before Hobie let’s you slip out of his grasp. His hand on your lower back to keep you from leaning to far over the edge.

“Oh Robbie!” You cheerfully wave down. He’s nothing more than a speck of green but you always manage to hear him clearly.

“Mate,” Hobie yells,“we were kind of in the middle of something important.”

Said first mate scoffs at him before rolling his eyes. Not that you see any of this happen. You just know the man well enough. “Oh yes, so important…” He clears his throat before yelling back,“Riri’s messed with the gear again and I’m pretty sure we’re headed in the opposite direction.”

You can only watch as a tool is chucked in his direction. You’re assuming from inside Riri’s makeshift workshop. Wincing as it successful bonks him in the head. “It’s called renovating!”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“I’ll be right down!” Your boots scuffing against the wood as you make your way past Hobie to the ladder.

“Pray tell, where-” You squeak as you feel him tug you back into his chest. Stumbling not so gracefully after craning your neck up to see him. “-do you think, you’re going, without giving me my kiss?”

“I’m sorry,” you laugh,”but I have duties, Captain.” He preens at the title. Shifting you around in his arms like you would a rowdy pup. “If we want to reach port in the next six hours and you know, not die of starvation on this ship. I need to go.”

“I never told you not to.” He answers. Grinning as he tightens his hold on you. “But you have at least a minute to spare for your beloved, yes?”

You scrunch you nose, gently shaking your head as if scolding a child. A very greedy child that always seems to attach himself to you. It’s a wonder the crew hasn’t named him the ocean’s clingest sea urchin. “My beloved, yes, my captain…no,” you chuckle. “Come on Hobie, I promise you a kiss after supper and after I help Riri.”

He sighs dramatically before releasing you. His hands up in surrender as he backs away. “Fine fine. But I’m holding you to it eh? The second you’re done you come find me.”

“Aye Captain.” You salute. He watches as you hop down the ladder and after two or three steps you disappear. Once you’re out of earshot he lets out a dreamy sigh, slumps against the walls of the crow’s nest, and cranes his neck up to the sky.

“Oi, that means you too Hobart!” Robbie hisses. “Stop daydreaming a get down ere’!”

Hobie snorts, fixing his hat. “Alright, I’m comin’!”

#atsv #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderman atsv #atsv hobie #spiderpunk #hobie x reader #spider punk x reader

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measuredingold · 2 days

Text

7:15

author's note: hello hello hello ! the jolly fic i promised last month. on a roll :-) i have a few trips coming up and i wanted to get this sweet lil fic out before i was away from home. i haven't wrote much for jolly and i just really like how this came out. short and sweet, domestic as fuck. as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated !

pairing: joakim karlsson x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 1.9k

cw/tags: fluff, sweet domestic tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, maybe some angst but it lasts 2 seconds, kissing, ~suggestive~ content, 18+ minors do not interact

Jolly wakes up slowly, a groan slipping from his lips as he stretches his limbs out across the bed. He pauses, realizing the spot beside him was unoccupied and cold, and a frown settles on his lips. Blinking, he sits up and stretches out his limbs again with another groan, looking beside him to confirm that yes, the other side of the bed is definitely empty.

He doesn't panic, no, because he sees the bedroom door has been left ajar only slightly, but enough to let him hear you downstairs. It's a distant sound, muffled, but he can hear the clambering and chattering of pans in the kitchen and the faint hum of music. The frown on his lips slips away and a smile replaces it soon after, heart twisting.

He loves mornings like this with you. With their more than hectic schedule now, mornings like this are few and far in-between, so he tries to never take it for granted. Even though he'd much rather drag you back into bed with him and sleep a few more hours, (he flinches at the time on the clock, 7:15), he throws his legs over the side of the bed and pushes himself up. He hisses as his feet meet the cold floor but braves it, shuffling out of your shared bedroom and down the stairs.

The music gets louder the closer he gets to the kitchen and he's not sure what it is, something easy to listen to early in the morning. Some morning indie playlist you found on Spotify, he's sure. He smiles again when he finds you in sweatpants and an old shirt of his, hair pulled back out of your face. Your back is facing him, humming along to whatever song is playing, and he leans against the wall beside him. Jolly doesn't remember the last time he was able to just... admire you from afar. He's always in your space whenever he's home, the both of you wanting to spend as much time with each other as you can, never leaving each other's side.

He likes seeing you like this. As corny as it sounds, this is the most beautiful he thinks you are. Still sleepy he’s sure, still in your pajamas, hair thrown in a messy ponytail, cooking breakfast for the both of you. It's something he'll never get tired of.

After a solid two minutes of silently watching you, he shuffles over to where you stand and doesn't waste time in wrapping his arms around your middle, lips meeting your shoulder.

"Good morning."

"Was waiting for you to come over here." You hum and instantly melt back into his chest. "Were you just watching me in silence?"

"Maybe."

"Creep."

But he can hear the smile in your voice, which makes him smile, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head before untangling himself from you, leaning against the counter to your right.

"What's on the menu this morning?" He questions, eyeing the eggs in the pan.

"Eggs and waffles. Wanted some turkey bacon with it too, but was deeply disappointed to find out that we were out." You send him a pout before focusing back on cooking.

"Oh, you poor thing. How will you ever survive?" He teases before reaching out to poke your side gently, causing you to squeak. "I’ll make sure to add it to our ever growing list. You still want to do that today, right?"

"At some point." You nod before reaching over to turn the stove off and then reaching for one of the waffle filled plates that were placed behind him - two for you, three for him. "We also need to clean this place up before you leave. The living room makes me want to peel my skin off... and don't even get me started on your studio."

He hums, almost in an afterthought, and watches you plate the eggs. "We have time, love."

"I know, I just..." You trail off, continuing to plate the food and he watches as your brows begin to furrow like they always did when you were in thought.

He reaches up and rubs his thumb in between your brows. "Your face will get stuck like that."

"Shut up." You grumble, but your face relaxes for just a moment. "I just like having the place clean before you leave. Makes it feel better when you're gone."

It's his turn to frown, brows furrowing as he stares at you. He knows it rough when he leaves. Leaving you here all alone while he's off traveling with the band isn’t an easy thing to do. If it was his choice, he'd bring you with him every time, but he can't. You have responsibilities here... and unfortunately, his responsibilities are elsewhere most of the time.

He doesn't leave for another three weeks, though, and usually you're asking him to help clean up around the house the week prior. Something is obviously bothering you.

"What's on your mind?"

You sigh, sitting the spatula down on the counter after you finally finished plating. "I just... this time feels different. Don’t you think?”

Jolly cocks and eyebrow up at you. "How so?"

"I don't know." You shrug and come to stand before him, leaning into him and resting your forehead against his shoulder. His arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you closer to him. "You guys are getting bigger, which is amazing. Don't ever think I hate that because I don't, but... the bigger you get means the more tours you get. The more tours you get means..."

You don't say it, voice trailing off, but he knows what your next words will be. The more tours you get means the less time at home. With you. His frown deepens at that.

"Baby..."

"And I don't want to sound selfish. Seriously, I don't! I'm so fucking proud of you, Joakim. All of you. Some of the most deserving people I've ever met, but I..." You sigh again, almost in defeat, and he feels you press closer to him, voice muffled. "I miss you. More than I usually do. It used to be easier, and it still is because I know you'll always come back, but..."

The silence that follows breaks his heart.

He does remember this last time being away in Europe was a little rougher than normal, constantly thinking about you, wishing you were there with him. It might be because last time they were there you were with him, taking leave from work to join him on their European headliner for this new album. The only thing that really got him through was the fact he knew that when he got home, you'd be right there waiting for him.

"But?"

"But... it just sucks." You pull back just enough to look up at him, a sad smile settling on your lips. "Wish I could just go with you and not worry about anything else.”

"You could," He's quick to respond. "You've always had that option."

"I know." You mumble, face pressing back against his shoulder. "I feel bad, though. Making you support the both of us. Plus, you know how much I hate flying. I couldn't stand it."

Jolly laughs at the tiny groan you let out, probably remembering your flight last year to the UK with him and the rest of the band. You had begged Matt to switch seats with you, so he could be by the window and you in the aisle with Jolly squished between you two. One look out the window - while you were still on the ground - had sent you in a spiral. He remembers having to hold your hand the entire flight, and when it was allowed, lifting up the armrest so you could press yourself into his side. He hadn't minded it one bit, finding it endearing that you put all your trust in him to keep you safe.

"You and flying don't mix well." He teases, hands now rubbing up and down your arms. "But... you know I don't mind providing for you."

"I know you don't."

"And I love taking care of you."

"I know you do." You whine, pulling back again to pout up at him. "But you know I can't let you do that. My brain tells me no."

"Tell your brain to get over it and let your boyfriend take care of you." He leans forward, planting a kiss to the center of your forehead. He feels your arms circle around his middle and he smiles against your skin.

"If only it were that easy." He pulls back to find you still staring at him, but a smile has since replaced the pout on your lips. "This'll only suck for a little bit, then it'll become our new norm and it'll get easier. I'm just cranky about it now, but I know we'll figure it out."

"We always figure it out." He hums. "Just tell me what you need from me to make it easier on you while I'm away, and I'll do it."

"There's nothing you can do.” You pause. “Except, maybe, right now… a kiss could possibly fix my cranky mood."

He watches your gaze drop from his down to his lips, and then back up, your own lips puckering dramatically. Jolly huffs out a laugh before happily obliging and leans down, lips pressing against yours gently. Nothing too crazy, a sweet peck, because he still hasn't brushed his teeth, and he pulls back seconds later.

"I love you." You say happily, eyes fluttering shut briefly.

"I love you, too, baby."

"Alright, I’m not allowed to complain for the rest of the day. Let's eat before all my hardwork gets cold." You step on your tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek before pulling away entirely, reaching around him for both of your plates. "And maybe after, shower? Then go grocery shopping? The fridge is running on fumes... I think I used the last of the eggs and we have maybe half a glass of milk left."

He perks up at that, following you over to the chairs that sit at the island in the middle of the kitchen, plucking his plate from your hands before settling down in his chair. "A shower, you say?"

"Of course that's the only thing you heard." You deadpan, but he doesn't miss the smirk on your lips.

"Sorry. You know my brain likes to focus on the important stuff."

"Perv." You tease, but the smirk has finally settled on your lips fully. "Does that sound good, though?"

"Mhm. Sounds good to me, love."

"Oh! And maybe later we could go to the thrift store we wanted to check out last week? Hit up some other shops, too."

"Oooh, yes. That sounds like a perfect plan.”

It's almost as if the worry from earlier is forgotten as your conversation continues through breakfast, and when you're finished putting your dirty dishes away and dragging him up the stairs to go shower (among other things), Jolly knows that the two of you will eventually figure it out. He knows you two can weather any storm, just like you have for the last few years, and that these worries won't mean much to the two of you in the future. He knows wherever he goes, you’ll be right there waiting for him, and he hopes you know he’d do the same for you.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #joakim karlsson fic #joakim karlsson fanfiction #joakim karlsson x reader #mine

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bahrtofane · 2 days

Note

helloo can we have dialogue 9, trope 20 with tchouameni pleasee🫂

- "Stay, please?" - two idiots pinning and not realizing the other is just as in love

word count - 700+

watch it - sleepy eepy silly lovers

I luv him sm yall

You get a call at 3 in the morning. At first you think it's an alarm so you slap your phone a few times before fumbling around for your charger, sticking your face in your pillow and drifting away.

Then you get another call, and this time you clock that it's not an alarm but your dearest friend who's decided blowing up your phone is much better than letting you get any rest. It's Friday and you'll give him a pass. (Aurélien gets any and every pass in your book but he doesn't need to know all that).

You answer, of course you do. Voice hoarse as you sit up, slouching against your pillow while you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Mind if you open the door.” he mumbles after a rushed greeting.

You squint,”what?”

“Your door, can you come and open it.” he repeats again. Slower.

“Where are you?” you yawn.

“Outside, I got you things from Germany and they're really perishable and supposed to be refrigerated and I won't be able to so I thought I'd stop by. Sorry it's so late.” he breathes into his phone.

“No it's okay,” you stumble out of your bed and feed for your slippers in the dark, padding around your apartment phone wedged between your shoulder and your ear.

He stays on the line, even if he's a few feet away. Not hanging up til he’s greeted by a very puffy eyed you in your pjs still fighting sleep.

He thinks you're beautiful like this. Warm and soft, exactly how you make him feel. In full honesty he could have kept the assortment of treats with him. His hotel probably has a mini fridge. But he wanted to see you. He knows both of you will get busy again. He'd rather not waste any chances. So here he is, standing in your door frame, sleek black carry-on suitcase in hand and a bag just for you in the other.

You use him inside, flicking on a light and taking his baggage. He tries to fight you but you only whine, wheeling it away from him and up against the wall.

“Tea?” you croak.

He giggles, “no it's okay,” he hands you the tote,” this is for you, i should get going.”

“No wait,” you rub your eyes, “it's late. Stay please?”

His resolve soon crumbles as you take him by the hand, leading him further into your home. To you its second nature. Not a second thought as you dig in your closet for a spare pair of slipper.

“I have pjs for you somewhere, “ you mumble.

“No no,” he waves his hands,”its okay i have my own.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

You hum, padding along to get your room in order.

When you come back you see him in his pjs trying to settled on your couch and you frown, “no no you're sleeping in a proper bed get up.”

“It's your house.”

“And?”

“No i'll take the couch you have one bed i can-”

You shut him up with a tug to his sleeve, dragging him to your room. You turn your lamp on and slide in, motioning for him to follow. Friends share beds right? You would have offered if it wasn't him, and he wouldn't have accepted if it wasn't you.

Maybe it's due to it being so late, to the jet lag, to you just being woken up. Or maybe it's because he feels so safe with you, so at home. And you feel so comfortable, and it feels so right when he slides in next to you, curling his hand around his face and resting his head against your pillow.

You've dreamt about this a million times. But you're too drowsy to be able to truly take it in.

It's okay, the way Aurélien stares at you wide eyed admiring you makes up for it. He feels too excited to sleep but forces his eyes shut, turning the other way, and taking a deep breath to calm down.

You don't know this now but come morning you'll be pressed up against each other legs tangled and far too embarrassed to bring anything up. You hope he comes by again, maybe at a more reasonable hour next time so you can properly remember it.

#aurélien x reader #aurelien tchouameni x reader #aurelien tchouameni #tchouameni imagines #tchouameni x reader #tchouameni #aurélien x you #aurelien x reader #bahr footy #bahr 300 event

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k-atsukibakugou · 2 days

Note

Mercury your event is SO cute I’m actually obsessed! I’m such a beer girlie, but if I had to pick a drink it’s gotta be a jägerbomb! And for the character you pick because I want you to be as free as possible I’m ready for anything👀

ehehehe i was a lil cheeky with this one, i leaned more into the leave you wanting more vibe with the jagerbomb also im sorry for the lack of beer i've never met a beer or cider i've liked LMAO i was going to make this endeavor but the more i wrote it the more it worked better with bakugou but i hope u like it!! teehee birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

anyone who wasn’t a couple jagerbombs deep could tell you how bad of an idea jagerbombs are at an work party, but when you work at one of the most popular bars in musutafu, it’s more a rite of passage.

not even here a year, your work-best friend was the very first to inform you of the notorious annual work party, how messy they get, how she’d gone home with the chef one year, and how many servers had crashed in the booths over the years. finally, the time had come for the party, your friend already abandoning you to flirt with the chef again, although, you couldn’t play the morally high act about it when all your attention was on your boss behind the counter.

walking behind the bar, you perused the liquor on offer, mostly mid-tier stuff, but god, did the imported stuff look good right about now, something smooth to take your mind off of him. fuck, why’d he have to roll his sleeves up like that? his forearm muscles enough to make you wonder what else lies beneath that damn shirt, an endless expanse of muscles underneath a wife-pleaser singlet, thick thighs caged in his expensive slacks.

“need some help?” lost in your daydream, bakugou is beside you before you realise how long you’ve been ogling him, your indecisive daze in front of the alcohol drawing his attention (any excuse to talk to you, really). you’re nowhere near drunk enough for him to be this close, to get this messy. yet.

“you don’t have my beer on tap.” his eyes nearly roll back at your sweet tone, your gentle teasing that’s been driving him up the wall for months. he stays steadfast, dark garnet eyes unwavering, despite the top you’d worn specifically for them to wander.

“let me make it up to you,” he takes another step closer, the expensive scent of his cologne filling your lungs when he reaches around you for the distinct green bottle, trapping you between his biceps for a fleeting moment, “we’ll do something i used to have in my party days.”

grabbing two pint glasses and two shot glasses, you watch him work with the kind of swiftness and expertise decades behind a bar could give a man, every twist of his wrist calculates, not a single drop of jagermeister or redbull spilling, even when the latter threatened to bubble over the top of the glass.

“you used to do jagerbombs?” you can’t help but sound incredulous, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline when you accept the drink from him. mesmerised as he pours his own, you try to imagine him younger, chugging back the bomb, swallowing shot after shot, stumbling home in the am. even in your daydream, his hair had speckles of salt through the blond of his hair, the silver fox look worked too well for him to see him any other way.

“why are you so shocked? i was twenty once.”

“it’s hard to imagine you… like that.”

“like what?”

“you know, a party animal, i can only see you drinking bourbon on the rocks.” he chuckles at the memories, of sleepless nights, of horrendous hangovers.

“i could still drink you under the table.” he challenges, already reaching to pour another, you try not to laugh in his face, the image of your all-powerful boss drunk and stumbling was something you’d pay to see. with a smile you could only describe as evil, hot, you clinked your drink with his before knocking it back, “sure you can, old man.”

after too many bombs, an assortment of other shots, some cocktail bakugou poured you and a sip (you weren’t game enough to have more of it, there’s a reason you weren’t a bartender) of the one you poured him, the pair of you stumbled into his office at the back of the bar. half the buttons are undone on his shirt, your hands sliding beneath the hem of his shirt even when he pulled away from you long enough to unlock the door, pulling you inside with him and nudge it closed once more before turning all his attention back to you; the way you stared up at him with glassy eyes, the way your lipstick smudged under your bottom lip, how your chest heaved (the way your tits looked when you did), how your dress rode up when you pulled yourself onto his desk, tugging him in by his belt loops.

he can’t even find it in him to care about the time-sheets crinkling under your ass when you bite your lip, can’t care you’re his employee and his mind goes blank of everything when you wrap your thighs around his hips. fuck, you’re irresistible like this; arching into him, kissing and biting his jaw, one hand tugging your dress further up your thighs, the other working off his belt to slide into his slacks, searching for more and more, more he wants to give you.

you’re just so, so, so hot… and he’s soft. he’s fucking soft. he finally has you under him and he can’t get it up.

let’s hope the alcohol buzzing through your blood is enough to clear your memory of this in the morning.

#mercurys birthday bash #「mercury answers」#「jo <3」#「kat <3」#「mercury writes」#tw: alcohol #bakugou drabble #bakugo drabble #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

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shadowsandsunset · 2 days

Text

The BuckTommy OF!Buck fic (with eventual BuckTommyEddie)

PART ONE (You Are Here)

PART TWO (Coming Soon)

PART THREE (Coming Soon)

notes: Come and get your smut, babes. Read at your own risk. 18+

This chapter is 1250-ish words of Tommy's POV. Again, just smut. I've lost control of my brain again.

From this post here. @tiltingheartand I figured you might be interested :)

Tommy doesn't understand how Evan, his boyfriend, affords his frankly ridiculously nice loft apartment. He doesn't really care, he likes spending time with Evan any where, any time, but it lingers at the back of his mind.

He knows Evan, knows he's not doing anything criminal, he's too sweet, too caring. He is very smart though, so maybe it's crypto? Maybe he made some smart investments? Maybe an inheritance or a small lottery windfall?

He knows he shouldn't worry about it, it's not his business, they're not married, they don't live together, it's really none of his concern.

But...the loft is quite nice. All exposed brick and open floor plan goodness. So he wonders.

They've been together now for a few months (3 months, 2 weeks and 4 days, officially) and he knows he loves Evan. He knows Evan loves him. Evan is, despite the hilarious rocky start to their relationship (Ally? Seriously Evan?), a perfect boyfriend.

Which is why one sunny Sunday afternoon he stops by Evans apartment to surprise him. They didn't make plans because Tommy was on call, but he never got called in.

He lets himself in with the key Evan gave him (for emergencies of all kinds... including sex emergencies, which Evan made sure to point out) and is surprised to hear the bass-y thump of some sort of music.

"Baby? You around?"

No answer. Hmm. The music is coming from the bedroom so he heads for the stairs.

He's even more surprised when he gets to the top and sees Evan, blindfolded and jerking off in the middle of the bed. He's changed the sheets, a dark navy blue set that Tommy hasn't seen before, but what really stops Tommy in his tracks is the camera.

Pointed directly at the bed, capturing Evan in flagrante delicto, is a digital camera.

Tommy is stunned, speechless and practically drooling, as he watches Evan's hand stroke his cock, the sound of it wet and dirty. He feels the rush of blood to his dick, the tugging of his boxer briefs as he gets hard.

Well. Isn't this something?

He watches as Evan comes, beautifully and copiously over his hand, the sighing moan of his orgasm making Tommy's dick twitch. He adjusts his dick so it's more comfortable then crosses his arms and leans against the wall to wait.

Evan comes down, sweaty and breathless, and takes off his blindfold. Then he notices Tommy and lets out a panicked shout as he flails around, trying to sit up.

"What are you doing here?"

Tommy grins, all teeth and smarm, "Thought I would surprise you, but I have to say that I'm the one surprised, baby".

Evan groans and covers his face with the hand that isn't dripping cum. He mumbles something behind his hand.

"What?"

"I said: 'I can explain.'".

Tommy motions for Evan to continue, he's invested but not impatient.

"Do you know what OnlyFans is?"

Tommy feels his mind go a bit static-y, all electric and gooey. His boyfriend is a cam boy? He's certainly beautiful, he's definitely horny, and it would explain the loft...

"You're on OnlyFans?" Tommy chokes out, blood is no longer in his brain but his cock could hammer nails.

"It started a few years ago...I was seeing this girl and she introduced me to it. I thought it was hot, you know? That all these people liked looking at her enough to pay for it. She helped me get started and well... I liked it. I like knowing that people think I'm hot. The money is good too, I'm not like a top creator or anything, but I do alright."

Tommy just stares at Evan for a second then, with Evan's full attention on him, he reaches down and strokes his dick over his pants.

"Evan, baby, you are gorgeous and I am absolutely your number one fan, so I get it. Tell me what you do on camera."

Tommy unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants down to his thighs, stroking his dick and staring at the love of his life, who is too breathtakingly, heartbreakingly, sexy.

Evan takes a deep breath, and then releases it, eyes not leaving Tommy's cock.

"Mostly I just jerk off. Different poses, different things I say depending on if I've had requests. When I started seeing you I started getting more adventurous...fingering myself on camera, that was popular."

Tommy doesn't react except to lightly squeeze on the downstroke.

Evan continues, "You like that? Like that I opened myself up and people watched..."

Tommy moans, "You're so hot, Evan. They all get to look but I get to touch. Fuck."

Evan stops for a second to think.

"Would you want to make a video with me?"

Tommy stops his hand, "Absolutely."

Evan motions Tommy to get on the bed and then goes to the camera and angles it so Tommy's face isn't in view. Then he presses record.

Evan crawls up the bed, facing Tommy and with his back to the camera. He grabs a condom and rolls it on Tommy's dick.

Evan, loose and open from his own exploration earlier, throws his leg over Tommy's and positions himself.

"You ready, baby?"

Tommy doesn't respond except to nod and grab his dick to position it at Evan's hole.

Evan sinks down and moans, Tommy is a big guy, and he's big everywhere. Tommy knows what he's packing and god does Evan take him so well. Evan is tight and warm and Tommy feels his eyes roll back in his head.

"Yeah, just like that Tommy. Oh my god."

Tommy grabs Evan's hips and starts moving, holding Evan still with ease. Evan is so pretty it drives Tommy crazy, he kisses him as he moves inside of him, pretty and perfect and adorable.

Tommy has to admit that the thought of strangers seeing this turns him on. It's fucking hot, his boy on full display as he rides Tommy's dick.

Tommy has been turned on for so long but he's not going to come until Evan does, he's a gentleman.

He takes on hand off Evan's hips and reaches for Evan's dick, as pretty and hard as diamonds.

He strokes Evan as he lifts his hips, the slick sounds of lips and fucking filling the room. He hopes the microphone is good enough to capture the beautiful sounds Evan's making.

Evan whimpers as he comes, spilling across Tommy's hand and belly.

Ignoring the mess, Tommy puts his hand back on Evan's hip and goes for gold, nearly lifting Evan as he thrusts.

It's only a minute more before he comes, spilling into the condom and growling his pleasure into the side of Evan's neck.

After a moment, he gently helps Evan off and to the side to lay down. Evan is tactile and cuddling with him is one of Tommy's favorite things. Evan lays his head on Tommy's shoulder and laughs, softly.

"So what do you think?"

Tommy thinks for a second, "That's going to be your most viewed video, baby."

LATER

Tommy had viewed the edited video before Evan posted it, and he knew it was a knockout, a winner. Evan had let him know that Tommy had been right, the video was a success. His most popular video on the site.

They hadn't discussed making more yet, but if Evan asked then Tommy was going to say yes. His boyfriend could probably ask him to hide a body and he'd say yes, but Tommy wasn't thinking about how bad he had it for the younger man.

#bucktommy #just pure fucking smut #kinkley #tevan #i have no clue what the ship name is #shadow's writing tag #911 abc #fanfic #evan buckley x tommy kinard

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mrcspectr · 2 years

Note

rn the roomie is showing off the House Weaponry and i was thinkin abt the way marc kind of . seems to ? avoid fighting with knives ? and was just like . exploding bc im. watching the way marc brawls on the rooftop & he . he constantly knocks knives to the ground but he keeps his own hands weapon-free. the moment marc gets his hands on a knife, the fight’s over too quick (at least for bad guy #1)- and suddenly steven takes the wheel.

and then the next time there’s a knife in Marc’s hand it’s certainly not nice and shiny like it was before- no, it’s buried in bad guy #1’s gut. there’s so much more blood.

… listen i came into this ask wondering if marc and jake had different styles of fighting with weapons- with knives specifically- and walked out with too many more questions than i had answers.. Marc’s movements with the knife were. very certain and fluid- well practiced, even. and yet he seems to shy away from picking one up- he sticks to his fists.

It doesn’t help that there’s not much footage on how jake uses a knife, we just see the .. result. anyways this is for you to munch on when you find a spare thought cos i know this’ll be rotating in my brain on repeat for a goooood long while. skdjdksj byeeee

Percy, have I ever mentioned how much I love when you talk to me about House Weaponry? lsdgjskljgs ANYWAY. I have.. commentary on this.

So, in that scene on the rooftop, there's three guys he's fighting total, five knives (the particularly flashy guys are carrying two. Y'know. For funsies, I guess.) The confrontation starts with Marc being, bless his heart, more himself than we see very often. A little sassy, a lighthearted jab here and there. Oh shit, you killed him? I needed to talk to that guy. Oh. What, are we dancin'? We fightin'? What are we gonna do? He's more comfortable, the situation more familiar.

And throughout the fight, he's more focused on getting the knives out of their hands. He disarms, but he doesn't necessarily take advantage of the weapon itself. (It's something we learn in combat self defense, your best chance of survival is to take the knife out of the fight entirely.) Marc's strategy is this:

Guy #1: Dodge the first slash so the knife is already directed away from him, takes his wrist holding the second knife, forces it in the same direction so both points are no longer a threat, and uses his own momentum to push him away, falling to the ground.

Kid and Guy #2: In the time it takes Marc to land a solid kick on someone else, the kid manages a good slash against his back, distracting him from the older men. When he tries again, Marc grabs at the wrist holding the knife, twisting the joint in a way that makes it fall from his grip. It's important to note too that he hesitates for a second, striking his back with an open palm instead of a closed fist. Less pain, more jarring or surprising than anything.

Guy #1 again: He crosses the guys arms across each other, making it pretty difficult to near impossible to stab forward. He brings his knee up to strike his wrist, and so another knife falls. The second knife comes up, and Marc strikes again to the same result.

With every motion and decision Marc makes, a weapon falls to the ground. But he doesn't reach for it, not until the end. And even then he's angry, the adrenaline is pumping, he's reaching for that familiar violence, but at the last moment, Steven steps in. That's enough.

And I used to think it was so strange, because Marc's very familiar with utilizing the crescent darts when he's wearing the suit. There are multiple times he uses them to stab, to cut, to slash, in the same way a knife would be handled. So why did he seem so against taking advantage of a dropped weapon, when he was very clearly outnumbered? And then I remember this line:

Or it was just a way for me to keep being what I've always been. A killer.

And that is Marc's entire struggle with his identity as Moon Knight, isn't it? He refuses to accept that certain satisfaction he finds in his own violence, because in doing so, he thinks he's confirming everything his mother ever made him believe. He finds it easier to use those weapons wearing the armor because he thinks he can almost.. draw a line between himself and what he becomes as an Avatar. He can separate the two.

And by trying to put those different parts into neat little boxes, that is what causes him to believe he hates being Moon Knight. Because he puts all that anger and violence, those things that he hates, all in that same box. That internal conflict arises when the line becomes blurry, or it disappears entirely, like that moment on the rooftop.

#i love that bit on the rooftop because like #idk he just seems a bit less hindered by guilt #before things get too out of control it's like he feels lighter #it makes what comes after with the death and the kid so much more devastating for him #because you can see in his face how the walls come back up again #marc baby we have some things to sort through #the marc spector effect: deny and compartmentalize #iscarusholmes #asks #mk meta #long post #oof sorry #percy tag

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suguann · 27 days

Text

Being a camgirl comes with its fair share of ups and downs, but you never expected one of the downs to be one of your unboxings from a fan going horribly wrong during a live stream—the proof of it still buzzing between your thighs beyond your finger's reach.

A rush of embarrassment comes with knocking on your roommate’s bedroom door and asking him for help because you’re nearing the brink of overstimulation and can’t think straight enough to get the words out. It’s worse when he stands there and says nothing—all imposing with two tattooed arms crossed over his chest—while you try to get through a sentence without moaning.

Simon looks at you with a cocked brow and something akin to amusement as he watches you squirm in his doorway.

Then he finally says, “Get on the bed,” in a steady and low voice, opening his bedroom door wider.

You fidget under his scrutinizing gaze as you settle back against his pillows, biting back whimpers with a too-hot face and sweat dripping down your back.

Him settling a knee on the bed makes you jump, “Let’s take a look, love.”

Simon crawls up the bed, forcing your knees open, and you’re suddenly very aware of how broad and big he looks, towering over you—every part of you laid bare for him to see. A large hand presses right below your belly button, jostling the toy inside you, and this time, you can’t hold back the squeal that rips from your chest.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, voice imperceptibly deeper, his lips twitching like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Okay, you’re going to feel a slight stretch.”

You bite your lip. “A-alright—”

Slight doesn’t even come close to the fingers sliding into you, spearing your sensitive walls open and pressing into a spot where you’ve never been able to reach with startling precision. You remind yourself that he has to do this, that he’s just being…friendly, or whatever makes the lines less blurred.

None of this stops the fact your lower stomach burns with the promise of another orgasm when his fingers brush against the egg vibrator before accidentally pressing it deeper inside.

“Ah, there it is.”

At the sight of your scrunched nose, he asks if it hurts. You shake your head; eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to hold back the stinging pleasure racing up your spine. “N-no,” you whimper.

“Relax, okay?”

Simon doesn’t comment on how you’re implying that it feels good. So good, you think, his thumb just barely touching your clit as he twists his hand to try a different angle. Then he pushes down on your belly again, and his long fingers finally grip the vibrator.

“Oh!” you moan at the feel of it dragging down your front wall, your fingers gripping the sheets.

He has to tell you to relax again, his voice cracking, but you hardly hear it over your heart beating loudly in your ears. His fingers drag the toy out slowly, almost too slow that you can feel it bumping against every slippery ridge inside you.

“Ah, sorry,” he says when you twitch—unapologetic—using his thumb to rub soothing circles into your stomach. “You’re so wet. I need to make sure I don’t lose it again.”

You nod, cunt clenching down at his words.

And then Simon’s fingers curl up: your thighs start quivering, breath caught in your throat, and your jaw locks up until your orgasm ripples through you. It’s unending, the strongest one yet, and just when you think it’s over, you feel the press of his palm against your clit.

“W-wait! Simon,” you moan, pushing at his hand. “No more, I‘m sensitive!”

He gets you to fall over the edge one more time before finally slipping the vibrator out of you, letting it hum softly on the bed, and your exhausted body sinks into the mattress once again. Simon gathers you into his lap, rocking you back and forth.

You swallow lungfuls of air against his chest, head still spinning and walls spasming from the aftershocks.

He murmurs in your ear about how good you are, kisses your temple, and rubs your sides, and it’s… enlightening. Moments pass before you finally return to yourself, and when he pulls back, his brows furrow at your pout.

“All good?”

You shake your head and go with honesty. “I didn’t think you’d cuddle me afterward.”

He smiles, thumb flicking your bottom lip. “You wanted me to fuck you?”

Your mouth falls open. “N-no—”

Then he leans down, lips brushing against your ear: “Don’t worry, love. Good girls get fucked hard.”

#simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost smut #cod smut #cod x reader #cod fic #cod imagine #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #.things i write

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thefallofruins · 5 months

Text

Bully! Sukuna

Bully! Sukuna who unhealthily obsesses over you. He loves your cute little face, loves it when you stammer and stutter over, loves how adorable you look when you study, glasses resting on bridge of your nose as you focus on taking down your notes.

Bully! Sukuna who sits next to you in class, hands shamelessly resting upon your seat, thighs occasionally nudging against yours, watching you with a smirk as a blush spreads across your cheek.

Bully! Sukuna who has no business with the library, but he comes anyways because he know you'll be there. Trapping you between a shelf and him, watching you look like you're about to pass out. Saying, "What d'you want, shorty?" when you can't reach a top shelf, only to tease you about it.

Bully! Sukuna who playfully tugs onto your hair, makes fun of you for being such a nerd, for not having a boyfriend, for being no fun. He sometimes snatches your glasses away and watches you desperately jump as you try to get it from him. To see your tits bounce...it makes him so fucking hard.

Bully! Sukuna who, every day, after returning to his dorm, has to "relieve himself" and it's all thanks to you. Imagining your lips glossed up, wrapped around his cock, slurping, licking— it makes him cum like no one before, not even the previous girls he has slept with.

Bully! Sukuna who glares holes into the guy who was hitting on you in the corridors. Only he can make you blush. He stalks over, arm wrapping around your waist possessively. "Fuck off." he growls, and the guy respectfully backs off.

Bully! Sukuna who, for the very first time, looks upset when he sees you cry out of frustration.

"What is your problem?" you sob, wiping the tears with the back of your palm. He pushes you against the wall, hand next to your face, trapping you, the other reaching to wipe the tears falling out of your pretty eyes as he leans down to whisper into your ears, lips brushing against your lobe, "You."

Bully! Sukuna who avoids you ever since that day. Too emotionally constipated. Not sitting next to you, not teasing you, barely even looking at you. You feel strange—strangely empty without having him annoy the crap out of you. The thought of him pressing you against the wall, so close to you- making you heat up as you think of it again and again.

Bully! Sukuna who absolutely did not expect that you would approach him as he smokes, back resting against the wall. Who is glad to see you, but doesn't show it. Instead, conceals it with a cocky smirk and says, "Missed me, eh?"

Bully! Sukuna who loves the sight of your cheeks flush at his words, the angry pout upon your lips, your inability to speak from how flustered you feel. But can't help but freeze when you reply with a small, "Y-Yeah."

Bully! Sukuna who discards the cigarette butt instantly, grabbing you by the hands to pull you flush against him, pulling your chin up to see you closely. Fuck you for being so beautiful. "Why don't you tell me how much you missed me?"

Bully! Sukuna who is taken by surprise when you tiptoe to press a kiss on his lips. He growls lowly, the feeling of your soft, plump lips making him go wild with thoughts— all the ones he pent up in his mind. He bites your lower lip, tongue embracing yours.

Bully! Sukuna who's so glad he found his sweet little girl. Surprised that you even liked him, but decides that you're his now. His sweet girl he'll protect at all costs. Of course he's a bit mean, but it's only him who can tease you. The rest will face instant death if they even try.

+drabble

"So fuckin' wet..." he growls into your ear, fingers rubbing your swollen nub through your pink panties, the cloth dampening with every touch he gave you. God knows how many times he has dreamt of this moment, only to have to jerk himself off the next morning. But to finally have you like this, it felt so fucking good.

He nibbles onto your neck, finding a sensitive spot that makes you gasp. Pulling your panties aside, he rubs the entrance of your cunt before he inserts a finger, walls shamelessly clenching around it. "Such a tight pussy..." he growls as he easily, through experience, finds your g-spot and nudges against it. A single finger is enough to make you wither. Pathetic.

"S-Sukuna..." you moan out, the sound of it making him add another one of his long fingers inside you. You gasp as they curl against a particular spot, more of your slick covering his fingers as he continues abusing the particular spot. "How cute," he chuckles darkly, loving how desperately your virgin pussy is squeezing around his fingers. He pulls it out, a dark expression on his face when he says, "You've got no idea how much I've dreamt of having this."

He chuckles upon seeing your cheeks flush deep red, arms on your hips, pushing you up to sit on the wooden bench. He parts your legs, kneeling to get a better view. "You gonna let me have a taste?" Before you can say a word, his tongue grazes your slit, making you yelp "Suku—ah..!"

His tongue works wonders, lapping against your puffy folds, teasing you, driving you crazy each time it so agonisingly grazes your sensitive clit. He slurps around shamelessly, making you moan quietly, afraid that someone will hear you.

"Nggh...k-kuna..." you moan messily, slick dripping down his chin, creating a mess. He loves every second of it. It's just like he imagined. Lapping up your sweet juices skillfully with his tongue, hands holding your legs apart, nails digging crescents into the soft, plush skin of your thighs. His actions drive you to the edge, your hands desperately clamping down your mouth to remain quiet, "Mmh...C-Cumming!"

He parts from your lower half, the sight of your hazed, flushed face, looking at him so adoringly— making his cock strain painfully against his pants. He captures your lips in a kiss, leaving them swollen as he parts. You look at him, collecting all the boldness you can possible muster when your hands reach to tug at his belt.

"Sukuna...let me return the favour."

divider: @/cafekitsune

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jjk smut #jjk x reader #ruins posts

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hoshigray · 7 months

Text

𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 | nanami kento

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: dom! Nanami x fem/afab! reader - nipple play - hair pulling - doggy style + deep impact positions - restricted movements (using his tie on your hands) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, love, sweetpea) - clitoral play - orgasm denial.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Oops, I did it again. Nanami being rough with his hands on your body. That's it, that's the tweet. Smthn quick thanks to MAPPA serving good food to the nanami fanatics on this week's ep

We all know Nanami Kento would treat his partner with the utmost care. There is no man you can put your entire faith in when it comes to your body than him. He's always perfect with you. Checking up on you to see if you're okay, rubbing circles on your back to calm you down from a haze, wiping tears on your face whenever he makes you feel so goddamn good. And let's not forget the kiss on the forehead he places so gently as he fucks you lovingly.

In terms of lovemaking and treating your body right, Nanami is undeniably the perfect candidate…

…However, there will occasionally be those moments when you’d want him to be just a tad rough with you. Nothing wrong with the soft, cutesy shit. No, no, you love it! But let’s face it; when you have a man who looks so deliciously alluring to the eye, with his broad shoulders and strong forearms that peek from his dress shirt, you can’t blame your mind for indulging with wilder thoughts. Especially when you express said thoughts to him.

And he listens to your request with his absolute attention. He’ll ask for confirmation before he does anything rash. And when you give him the green flag, your fate is sealed for the rest of the night.

“—Ggaahhh!! Ahaahnn!! Ken–Kentooo, you’re going—OhmyGod, OhmyGoood—“

“Shhh, don’t squirm too much, love.” He’ll whisper to your ear so hotly you nearly fall to your knees had it not been for his leg between yours, essentially making you ride his sturdy thigh. Your back pressed up against his abdomen while his hands roamed your body. One hand in your shirt, slipping your bra up to release your breast from the material, and for his hands to knead and play with your mounds. The other stuffed down your shorts and passed your panties, his fingers intimately close to your hot, wet folds. And you jerk when his ring finger presses down on your clit.

“Ahooo! Kento, stop, stooop!!” You don’t want him to stop — he knows you don’t want him to stop. “I’m gonna cum, it’s gonna happen—Nnnnmm!!!” He tweezes your nipple roughly, evoking an erotic shriek.

“You better come on me,” he demands you. Oh, how he sounds so hot when he does that. “Make my hand filthy like you, baby.”

But that’s only the beginning. Wait until you two move into the bedroom with his pelvis rutting onto the cusp of your ass. Face down to the pillow and ass up for Nanami to station you, and his hand in your hair, lightly tugging it. Sweat shields your body and glistens from the bedroom lights, your hands tied behind your back by his necktie. You’ve left with nothing to stand your ground, forced to take in his cock that churns your inner walls. And, God, it feels so fucking good.

“How’re you feeling there, angel?” Nanami, his pants and tie discarded with his shirt no longer buttoned up. The fingers in your hair massage your scalp. “Hmm? Are you feeling good?”

“…Uhhaaa—Ohohhh!” There’s no way you could give him a proper response in a position like this. Your head is so far gone that all you can think about is the commotion between your legs. The deeper he grinds his cock into your chasm, the deeper you sink into your blissful fog. Your hips begin to move involuntarily at this point; it just feels too exhilarating to stop!

However, attending to your bliss has its faults, especially when you’re not paying attention to the man making you feel this way. Because Nanami pulls your hair, forcing your face upright from the pillows. You cry at the sudden yank, exposing the drool and tears that trickle down your pretty face.

“You know better than that, Y/n.” His serious voice is on, your cunt twitches around his length. “I need your words to let me know how good you’re feeling.”

“Ahck—Mmmm…S’ too good, Kentooo. Y’ make me feel so good. So fucking—Ahannn…good….” did you mean for your words to slur? Who cares. Just don’t stop; please keep it going. Please, please, please—

Nanami chuckles at your words and lets your face fall back to the pillow. “Good.”

But don’t think the fun stops there. Nope. It just keeps getting better.

With your hands still tied, you now lie on your back to the comforter while he pistons his cock into you, one of your legs now on his shoulder to get a better angle to hit your sweet spots accurately. The wails you let out are uncontainable — there’s no point in stopping them from flying out your mouth. Your bottom lip is puffy from how much you’ve bitten it this entire time, and more tears fall to your neck.

Nanami looks at your expressions intently, mocha eyes never leaving your gorgeous face. It’s here that he finally withdraws his shirt and fucks you nude, sharing this intimate heat and passion with you. And, lord, he looks so fucking good right now. His tidy golden hair now with strands sticking to his forehead, sweat shared between your naked bodies, and his beautiful brown orbs taking you in like you’re the greatest treasure in the world.

“Ohhfuck, ohhhfuuckin—Ohhh!!!” Oh, God. With the way the tip of his cock precisely hits and scrapes your tender spots, you can feel your climax coming to get you. “Kento, Ken–Nnmphh, I’m gonna, I’m gonna—“

And then it vanishes. It didn’t come. Why? Because Nanami immediately removes his length from your slick-coated slit, the electrifying tingles in your body subside in seconds. Of course, you whine to him with doe, tearful eyes. So cruel. He’s so just cruel, but you love it.

“Mmmm, sorry, sweetpea.” You know he’s not sorry. The tiny mischievous glint in his eyes is telling. “Let me hear you beg for it first, the I’ll give my baby what they want.”

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rodolfoparras · 1 month

Text

Don’t cry over spilled milk (or do)

Pairing: The Milkman x Male reader

Content warnings: 18+, anal fingering, Francis is one vocal fellow

Thinking about Francis Mosses who’s always been considered the perfect top, mostly because of his size- getting to bottom for the first time in his life.

Down on all four, with his ass in the air big fat cock uselessly hanging between his legs, and feeling himself flushing red from being in such a vulnerable position.

Besides the embarrassment brewing in his gut, he feels restless just laying like that , so used to being able to see what his partner is doing to him, now he can only rely on the feeling of your two thumbs prying his cheeks apart, and exposing the sensitive flesh to the cold air.

Goosebumps raise across his skin, a sharp breath escapes his lips and he can feel the impatience growing inside of him. “Come on come come on just hurry up!,” he hisses out, feeling even more vulnerable from the way your gaze seems to be burning into the pink flesh of his ass.

“Patience love” you say, hand firmly landing on his cheek, and as much as he’s embarrassed to say it, the action manages to silence him.

His dark eyes glare down at the bright white sheets, thumbs fiddling with the loose threads of it, trying to ignore how his face must be as red as the cheek you just slapped while you freely ogle at him.

“Anybody told you that you look pretty like this hm?” You say, thumbing curiously at his puckered rim, but not adding enough pressure to push your finger inside him.

Another wave of embarrassment washes over him, and he feel the urge to cuss you out with every curse word to exist in the English language but he knows but he knows by doing so you, you’ll further prolong this.

So he clears his throat, swallows down his pride before he mutters the word “No,”

A contended hum escapes your lips, your hot breath washing over his skin and this time he knows your face is just a hair away from his puckered rim. “Well you are,” you say, words as firm as your grip on him. “So so pretty”

And you’re so so close yet so far away.

He clears his throat again, swallows the last bit of pride in him before he utters the words “Please just please-“

“What is it sweetheart? What do you want hm?” You say, amusement clear in your voice. He can even feel the way the tip of your nose drags along his bottom half, doing everything and anything in your power to wind him up and he doesn’t know how much more he can take before he combust.

“Please just please fuck me!” He cries out, tears threatening to spill from his glassy eyes but all the air is suddenly punched out of his lungs when you slip the tip of your finger inside.

There’s a slight sting that comes with the stretch, body momentarily tensing as you carefully work your finger inside him”Oh! Oh oh fuck!”

“Francis? You okay?” You say, carefully massaging the pink flesh.

With each brush of your finger tip; the burning sensation dulls a bit and he feels himself relax back onto the sheets, a soft hum rolling off his tongue before he manages to properly answer you. “Good, it’s good,” he hums out, as he further relaxes into your touch.

Eventually the stinging sensation completely subsides and he starts feeling empty with only your fingertip inside. “More, please more,” he grunts out hips subconsciously buck up into your hand.

“Such a demanding little thing” you say to him as a chuckle escapes your lips but you don’t waste a second working your finger deeper inside of him til you’re buried knuckles deep, and tactically grazing the wall of nerves that sends sparks of pleasure through his body, specially down to his dick.”Mmph-God! Just- ah just like that”

This isn’t something he’s felt before, your touch feels ever so intoxicating especially when your calloused finger grazes the sensitive wall of nerves and before he realizes what he’s doing he finds himself begging for more, greedy as ever and drunk on pleasure.

It doesn’t take much before you fulfill his wish, pushing two fingers past his puckered rim, the stinging sensation briefly returning , as he gets used to the feeling of having two thick digits inside of him. “Come on sweetheart, you can take it yeah? I know you can” he hears you say, familiar word spilling past your lips and for a brief seconds he imagines the times he’d been the one to say it when he had someone under him.

Eager to prove himself, he starts fucking himself back onto your digits, something that starts off slow as he gets used to the stretch before he increases the pace. “Ugh fuck - fuck feels so so good yes yes yes!!”

By this point he doesn’t register when you work a third finger inside of him, only registering the fullness that comes with it and the way your hand slides between his legs, gently palming his ballsack

“Look at you love, haven’t even fucked you yet you’re already so close to cumming,” You say , puncturing every word with a thrust to his prostate while tugging at his hard and weeping dick.

Francis couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re taunting him, couldnt care less about how pathetic he looks like this, all he can care about is how every thrust - every stroke, has him inching closer to his orgasm.

“Please oh god please -“ He cries out, begs and pleads sounding something akin to a mantra, fingers practically digging holes into the mattress and the muscles in his thighs cramping up from how hard he’s fucking himself onto your hand.

It doesn’t take much before he feels his toes curl, pulse roaring in his ears as a wave of hot white pleasure washes over him.

“Ah ah God ‘m cumming ‘m cumming please-“ he cries out, feels himself spill all over the sheets and his thighs, body shaking as you continue to milk his cock.

“Stop- stop, please.” He finally slurs out, once there’s nothing but pathetic spurts of cum coming from his cock, hand blindly pushing you away from him before he finally slumps down onto the mattress.

Exhaustion creeps up his bones, eyelids feeling heavier than ever and all of a sudden he feels himself fading away in the dream land.

“Ah, ah ah,” he hears you say, the sound of your sharp voice snapping him awake. “We’re not done here,”

#that’s not my neighbor #that’s not my neighbor milkman #that’s not my neighbor milkman x reader #that’s not my neighbor milkman x male reader #francis mosses #Francis mosses x reader #Francis mosses x male reader #milkman x reader #milkman x male reader #dom male reader #sub male character #top male reader #bottom male character #x reader #male reader #x male reader

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buckyalpine · 5 months

Text

I need a feral and unhinged, touch starved Bucky to ruin me.

He’s selfish in giving and taking.

He's gone years without touching his cock, no orgasm, no relief, nothing. Any experience he has had has been long forgotten. The man loves getting his cock sucked. There’s something so filthy about the way he goes feral for it, torn between throwing his head back in pleasure and watching his cock disappear into your mouth.

He used to be such a gentleman but he can’t anymore.

He's a fucking menace because he loves how dirty it is, having his dick in your mouth of all places, letting you slobber and drool all over his length, getting his balls wet in the process.

He doesn't give a fuck who hears either, letting anyone and everyone know his cock is in your mouth, that he's getting the best head of his life.

"Fuck, suck me princess, just-yeah just like that, sucking my cock so good babydoll, makin' me so hard"

You let out a muffled whine in response, still on your knees, tears streaking down your face while he holds your face, his thumbs swiping your wet cheeks. He bites his lip while thrusting his hips forward, pushing his length down your throat. You claw at his thighs, gagging and he lets out a delicious moan seeing your arousal starting to drip with how turned on you are.

"You're makin' me feel so good sugar, you know that? Y'have any idea how good my dick feels right now, how much cum there is in my balls?" He takes a a hand off his thigh and makes you cup his heavy sack, guiding you to squeeze him while you suck, the combined feeling making his eyes roll back.

"C'mon princess, suck my balls next, never had them sucked before-oh fuck-yeah-just like that baby shit-oh fuck feels so good-" His abs tense as he moans loudly again, jerking himself while you move to lap and suck at his sack, precum dribbling down, making a mess everywhere.

He might as well be addicted to the feeling. On more than one occasion, he's missed morning training because you decided to wake him up with head and he loses himself to you, not giving a shit who is waiting for him at the door.

He hears the knocks, hears them calling for him and he'll let them know what's keeping him so busy.

"Buck, you coming-?"

"Oh Fuck yes! Suck my cock, yes, yes, yes, gonna cum, drink it up baby, c'mon, swallow, fuck yes, m'gonna cum again-don't stop princess"

"Well...technically he's coming" Sam snorted, hearing every filthy word the super soldier spewed out while Steve bit back a smirk, "I think your best friend is busy"

Steve couldn't help the proud smile that made it's way onto his face, shaking his head, quickly walking away before round two started.

Tony occasionally goes as far as cheering outside of Bucky's bedroom, especially when the steady thump of the headboard banging against the wall can be heard from downstairs.

No point hiding anything from Tony, especially when he's the one who had to install the xl mirror in the bedroom Bucky requested and god knows he didn't ask for it because he's into fashion.

He's gonna put you in positions that are unholy as it gets. He wants to watch every detail. He's gonna throw your legs all the way back till your knees hit the bed. He wants to watch his cock stretch you open. He's gonna experimentally flick that little button between your legs, using it as his own personal play toy, rubbing and pinching it to his delight just to hear you squeal.

“That’s-that’s your spot, huh princess-take my fat cock baby, doin' so good, moaning for me" He growls, watching he way you take his cock. His favorite thing to do is lock eyes with you in the mirror while your on your hands and knees watching you watch him while he fucks your brains out. Your breasts bounce with each thrust and he doesn't know what he loves to watch more. God forbid your eyes roll back, he spanks you till you focus again.

"Look at me when you take my cock baby, look at how pretty you are when you're all stretched open"

"Sargent-I-fuck-can't-

"Yeah, can't even speak huh, that how good your pussy feels baby? You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?"

"Please!" You wail and he grabs your hair and pulls you till your back is flush against his chest. He forces your thighs apart as wide as they'll go before grabbing his phone and positioning it under, getting a perfect video of his cock pumping you full of cum while his fingers reach around to rub your swollen button.

"Go on and cum baby, cum with me, together, make your Sargent proud princess, make me dick feel good, fuck, gonna fill you till it spills out, mother fucker-FUCKK" He moans loudly with you, letting your convulsing pussy milk him dry, his veins throbbing as he shoots ropes of cum into you. The end of the video is blurry after all his cum drips onto the screen but it makes it so much filthier.

He's going to record all of this along with taking pictures, always getting you to spread your legs for him, laying on his bed after he's poured load after load into you. I want him to be the dirtiest fuck, looking at all the pictures and videos he's taken, jerking himself off afterwards when you're away for a mission. He can't have you but he's gonna take what he can get. He loves how you moan and scream, how cock drunk you get. A part of him almost feels like a pervert, tugging at his dick like a horny teenager but he can't keep his hands off when he thinks of you.

He's fucking feral even when he jerks off. Legs spread wide apart, no clothes on, back arched off the bed, fucking his hips up into his fist. He doesn't care if you walk in anymore. He was shy at first but now he just smirks while continuing to lazily touch himself, using his own spend to palm himself, the other arm propped behind his head. He knows you love the sight, planting his feet onto the bed to give you a better view while you take your clothes off-

Anyway, my bad, this was sitting in the drafts for long enough, you can go about your day now.

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venuslut · 3 months

Text

FANTASIZING ABOUT a needy Choso Kamo ♡︎.

He can’t help it. Ever since you first introduced him to sex, he just can’t get enough. It’s not his fault that your cunt is so addicting, so much so that he’s often begging you to let him fuck you on his cock. It’s not his fault that you moan so beautifully that he can’t help but thrust into you harder so you’ll make more of those pretty sounds for him. It’s not his fault that you taste so good and he has to have you on his tongue, drinking your juices until you’re shaking and crying. He doesn’t mean to be so needy, but you bring out this side of him he can’t control.

How is he supposed to control himself when you walk around in those skimpy clothes, showing off your plump ass and perfect tits? It’s impossible. He’ll try to resist, have some self-control. But it isn’t long before he’s hugging you from behind, dotting wet kisses along your neck and pushing his hard-on into your ass. All while he’s begging you let him feel your wet cunt. And of course you’ll let him, how could you say no to your cute desperate boyfriend.

The minute you agree he has you laid out under him as he fucks his big cock into your tight cunt. Moaning and whimpering about how good it feels to be inside you again, his face red as he pushes every last inch of himself into you. He uses his weight to thrust into you, which only made your head go dizzy. He has you in a lazy mating press and your plush thighs slap against his hips every time he comes down, the sound of Choso’s deep thrusts is so musical, his tip abusing your womb to the point your eyes roll back. His mouth is so filthy too, and the worst part is, is that he doesn’t even realize it. “Fuck, baby... you’re sucking me in... your pussy’s so tight.” He groans into your ear, sucking onto your skin and leaving purple marks behind, intent on marking you as his. Although there was no point since you still had the hickeys from your last encounter, but it was never enough for Choso.

The poor curse is so in love with your body that he’ll go on for hours and hours just playing with your body. If it was up to him, you both would never leave the bed. Who needs to eat when he can just eat your cunt and you can suck his cock? Who needs to sleep when there’s a new position he wants to try? This man will not stop because that’s how addicted he is to your cunt. You curse the curse’s stamina and sometimes wish you had a normal boyfriend, but he usually fucks those thoughts right out of your head before you can try and act on them. “Choso… ngh!— h-hold on, my body…” you mumbled, unable to fully say your sentence. He hits a particularly sensitive spot and you let out a strangled cry, bucking your hips wildly to try and get that same pleasure again. Choso eyed your reaction, angling his hips to continue hitting that spot over and over again til you’re seeing stars and screaming out his name. You had no thoughts about shame, or how you should lower your voice, not when your handsome boy was fucking you within an inch of your life.

“Right there? ‘s that the spot, dove?” He pants, voice hoarse from his overwhelming desire for you. You’ve lost track of time, to obsessed with the way Choso has you creaming around his cock for the nth time. Everything was too much, but you loved it, in an addictive way. The overstimulation was addicting. His words were addicting. The sound of the bed hitting the wall was addicting. His cock was addicting. He was addicting. You always tease Choso about his neediness when in reality, you’re just as needy and obsessed as he is. You can tell Choso is close by the way his cock twitched inside you and how he speeds up his movements, rutting into you with wild abandon and chasing his orgasm.

You throw your head back into a pillow, your vision almost going black as you were consumed with ecstasy. The air was knocked out of your lungs with every snap of his hips, your senses filled with just the pressure of Choso. It felt like you were gonna throw up, but not in a bad way. “Baby… babybabybabybaby! A-ah! Mgn…” you cried out in pleasure, clawing at the sheets below you. Choso’s hands tightened around your hips, his careful grip growing into a bruising hold as he was solely focused on reaching his climax. “Hah— you feel sososososo good, dove. I love you, I love you so much,” he whimpered. It was right there, he could feel it, just a couple more thrusts and he’ll finally have his release. He wants to cum so bad, he needs to cum.

“Hey dove? C-can I fill your pretty pussy with my cum? Wanna cum inside you,” he begged, his voice broken as he pleads with you. “Please, my love… I want to stuff your pussy with my cum, wanna fill you up…” he continues, kissing your ankle and calf to convince you further. You didn’t need much convincing though, you were already to dumb and out-of-it to deny the poor curse. Frantically, you nodded your head, just wanting to feel his hot semen inside you. And you finally got your wish after a few more sloppy thrusts, before Choso goes still and empties his balls into your awaiting cavern. He lets out a guttural moan as ropes of cum spurt out. Slowly, he pulls out, his cock coated in a translucent white, his thighs and pelvis sticky from a mix of sweat and cum.

You both lay there in silence, the sounds of your labored breathing being the only noise echoing through the room. While coming down from your high, you remember that the reason you even got dressed today was because you had work. Annoyed, you lightly smack the upside of Choso’s head, complaining about how he made you late while you go to get out of bed and put your clothes back on. Choso rubs the area where you hit him as he watched you struggle to move and get out of bed, he looks at you like a kicked puppy and he knows he should be sorry for making you late but he can’t find it in him to feel guilty. Instead, Choso reaches out and wraps his arms around you, pulling you back further onto the bed and flushed against his sweaty chest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and he lines soft kisses to your nape.

“I’m sorry, dove… Why don’t you call out and let me eat your pussy as an apology?”

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