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#didnt feel like shading but i wanted to get this out

zephyrine-gale · 10 months

Note

hi!! this isn't meant to be accusatory or anything i'm just wondering if u plan on finishing your kazuscara duel comic ^__^ totally fine if not! was just curious lol have a lovely day

Hi!! I do plan on finishing it, I didn't draft it up way back in December to not see it through 😭😭

But my standards for the following pages were too high so they didn't get finished as soon as I wanted, and then I ended up super busy with other things for the next several months :'>

#its been a struggle ngl i'd be like #this sketch is great #(line art destroys my life)#actually this line art is great #(coloring destroys my life)#actually the colors are okay #(shading absolutely destroyed my life i dont like it)#so that was where I left off :'D #i want to fix it so bad but looking at it i rlly didnt know where to start... and if every following page gives me the sake issue then #something in my process has to change #same issue oops typo #i need to like... not clean up every single step i feel #gotta accept that sketchy/not fully rendered things are fine #bc at this rate i get burned out just thinking about how to composition things 😭😭#i was supposed to be done with the whole thing by now :'>

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braywashed · 6 months

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for the record my plan was to just leave my ends the faded blue/light blue and then do the roots mint and i spent like two hours last night trying to formulate the mint bc they stopped making the straight up color mint and then today i

was like

NAH MAN I'LL JUST USE THE NEON GREEN I BOUGHT THE OTHER DAY AND MIX IT WITH THE NEON BLUE AND DILUTE IT I DONT NEED TO EXCHANGE THEM IT'LL BE GREAT

CERTAINLY MY GUT SAYING THE NEON GREEN WILL OVERPOWER EVERYTHING IS

A LIE

#it was not a lie i'm neon green/teal/dark blue now #and i wasted so much color its not funny trying to get the right shades #and they were still wrong #but you know what its gonna look sick regardless so its cool #and ive been wanting to gradually get to an emerald anyway so #works out in the long run #i feel like this is gonna look like the hair i had for my old coworkers wedding a few years back lmao #which.... i do often say i didnt keep long enough....

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nanaslutt · 2 months

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ʚ nsfw under the cut,, minors and ageless blogs dni

Thinking about Gojo getting you two matching Bluetooth vibrators for Valentine’s day....

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo’s body jerked forward when you upped the intensity of the toy from the little remote in your pocket. The man behind the counter was turned around, pointing at some specialty dessert as he explained it, so he unfortunately missed the way Gojo’s jaw fell open in a silent moan before he corrected himself.

His jaw muscles clenched under the weight of his teeth, his eyes briefly rolling back in his head as the tight cockring vibrated intensely around his sensitive shaft, vibrating his balls along with it.

Turning his head to the side inconspicuously, Gojo gave you a malicious smile, silently cursing at you before he stuck his own hand into his pocket and gave you the same treatment.

Luckily there was no one behind you, so they were unable to see the way you fell against Gojo, your inner thighs pressing together as you gripped harshly onto the sleeve of his expensive jacket, wrinkling the material. You could feel the small bullet vibe shaking against your walls as well as the flat piece stimulating your clit, pressing firmly against it.

“I-“ Gojo cleared his throat before he finished speaking, noticing how hoarse and unused it sounded. “I’ll take that one, and the brown sugar boba milk t-tea.” Gojo smiled politely, his muscles flexing under your arm.

You gripped him harder, praying he would take mercy on you and order for you with the state you were in.

Unfortunately for you, Gojo was at his limit as well. He was worried if he tried to speak for you he would cum in his pants before he even finished ordering. "What about you baby?" He asked, looking down at you, trying to turn his head as far to the side in your direction and away from the cashier as possible. This fucking asshole.

Swallowing hard, you went to open your mouth when you shut it just as fast. Gojo had started to slide the intensity up and down, up and down in a wave-like motion, making you feel weak in the knees. Biting your lip as inconspicuously as possible, you stuck your hand out in front of you and waved it, dismissing the attention on yourself by feigning like you didnt want anything.

Gojo smiled to himself when you started repeatedly tapping agaisnt his arm, silently begging him to turn down the vibrator as he took out his wallet to pay. Wanting to show you could be could, you turned him down as well, which made his body visibly relax.

Gojo cracked his neck to the side before he tapped his card quickly and shoved his card back into the sleeve before he turned the intensity of your own vibrator down, to match your energy. Gojo grimaced when he felt a fat bead of pre-cum spill out from his cock, undoubtedly staining the inside of his boxers even more. The softer intensity was arguably more painful and hard to endure than the faster one. The soft, barely there vibrations made his cock throb, begging for more.

After waving thanks to the worker, Gojo turned the two of you around and walked you over a few steps to the side of the building, letting you lean back against it. You took the opportunity to squeeze his arm hard, your lip trembling as you turned your face away from the street and buried it in his arm. "Satoru take me home right now." You begged your hands shaking as you gripped onto him, your legs matching.

Gojo looked down at you and cooed before biting his lip. Caressing the side of your face Gojo made you look up at him, his blue eyes finding yours from under his dark shades. "You sure? Seems like you were havin' fun teasing me back there. Almost came in my pants in front of that poor guy." He joked, his cock throbbing at your pathetic and desperate face.

"Toru, please. Please take me home right now I- I can't stand anymore." You begged the fabric wrinkling under your fingers more. With a soft kiss to the top of your head, you were lifted into Gojo's arms in a princess carry as he started off in the direction of the nearest alleyway so he could teleport the two of you home without being seen. "You can dish it but you can't take it huh princess? Did I play with you too much?" Gojo whispered as he strolled down the sidewalk.

You nodded into the crook of his neck, ignoring his irritating words. "Don't worry baby, I'll fuck you nice and good when we get home." He reassured you, making you whimper in response before Gojo turned abruptly and walked into the dark shade of the alleyway. He leaned his face close to yours before he added, "But the vibrator is staying inside."

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simplyreveries · 4 months

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hi sorry for my English, but can I ask the boys to overblot with a s/o who likes to mark their face with lipstick marks please

lipstick marks; overblot boysss

aaaaa i love this idea so much, thank you 😭😭

this is perfect because i have an obsession with lipstick<3

riddle rosehearts

it doesn't matter how long you two have been together he still gets so flushed after any kiss from you. you have such an effect on him, it's crazy. so, he doesn't even notice the lipstick stains left on him- he only learned when he heard ace snickering about something and commenting on his left cheek.

he was so flustered by that and learned to always check his face after you kiss him, he has a status to keep up as dorm leader!! he doesn't want to be improper or anything...or hear all the teasing from the others. but he does secretly enjoy it that you love to give them to him.

whenever you pepper his faces with kisses and he has to use something like a handkerchief to rub it off, he'll be all red in the face and mutter something like "oh dear..." under his breath as he worriedly goes to a mirror. but you've sworn you've caught him smiling a little, on multiple occasions.

leona kingscholar

when you come up to him and press kisses on his face whenever he’s asleep and trying to nap- he’ll groan tiredly and tell you not too because he’s too tired to wipe off all your “damn lipstick” right now. (let’s be REAL leona) you usually see a small smirk on his face with his eyes closed though. leona will seem even irritated if you'd stop.

he’ll roll his eyes when he wipes his lips with the back of his hand and sees it stained with the color of your lips and pull you back in for another. by the end of it his lips are smudged around with the shade of yours. its definitely a sight to see if it's a pinkish color.

leona doesn’t actually really care, I mean a lot like the others he’ll make sure to get it off before going out or something… though there may have been a few times he’s forgotten or missed it because he is usually half-asleep when you’re smooching him.

azul ashengrotto

every time you kiss and smooch him, he's so smitten, his brain cant function and he can't think of really anything or anyone else. in the privacy of his office are his favorite moments when you come to check on him and give him affection. this man is putty in your hands idc!!

so needless to say, the first time this happened to him- he doesn't even notice, like riddle. he'll be in such a dreamy mood and state while he does his paperwork. when jade comes to him about something, he immediately covers his mouth with his gloved hand trying to hide the amusement he clearly is feeling when seeing azul like that. he doesn't even tell him because he thinks its funny, jade only said "ah i didnt notice (name) was here earlier..."

azul was confused but brushed it off because he deemed this behavior normal from the twins. azul only learned the hard way when he heard floyd who couldn't keep it to himself.

every time you kiss him azul tries to remember to, but once again he's stuck on thinking about you. when he looks at himself in the mirror to wipe it off, he's got such a stupid grin on his face. his favorite spot to see where its left is right under his mouth where his beauty mark is.

jamil viper

he feels the lipstick left on his face usually and places his fingers against it and has the smuggest smile... he loves it honestly. within the privacy of him in you, when he feels it smudged and left on his face it makes him weak. he pretty much doesn't forget to rub it off still, but sometimes you may see the reminiscent color left on his face.

he oddly enjoys putting your lipstick on for you, jamil would do it for you if you ask him. he likes choosing his favorite colors that you have to put on you. i mean, there's also the perk of him getting kissed as a thanks so he's not complaining.

if you did it out in public, well he will let out a small huff and discreetly tries to wipe it off hoping no other dormmates or god forbid kalim saw him with it, he'll only tease him with mushy things about how cute him and you are together. he pretends like he doesn't like them, so it is rather funny to see. he just doesn't want to appear like that in front of others.

vil schoenheit

he literally does the same thing to you ALL the time. only he chuckles and coos while rubbing it off of your face gently. whenever you two are done kissing both of your faces are covered in each other's lipstick. he personally really likes the look of you like that.

he usually looks into his compact mirror from his uniform, he laughs saying something like "oh my, look at what you've done, dear." like he just didn't leave the same exact thing on your face as well.

vil 100% buys you more and more lipstick... like literally pick what you want. he'll give you the best and prettiest brands, he loves seeing you in them anyway. he'll be amused and point out its a brand he bought for you as he wipes it off his cheek carefully. he also knows exactly what colors would suit and compliment you the best.

idia shroud

idia was a huge ball of nerves when it came to kissing you at first, he's had zero experience, and he feels insecure about his lips- as they're chapped and scarred a bit from him biting his lips out of anxiety. you got him some vaseline and flavored lip balm for him, but he only likes it when you put it on his lips for him.

the tips of his hair always gets all pink, like his groovy card in the ghost marriage event- when you kiss him, and he sees the lipstick stains imprinted on his skin. he is flustered beyond belief, but he always craves more from you- once you start, he cannot seem to get enough of you. idia gives you this toothy grin and wipes them off with the sleeve of his jacket but whenever you get red lipstick on him, and he does that it just ends up looking like blush on his pale skin.

love love loves any flavored ones like lip gloss you use that taste sweet. definitely use them because it'll always work on idia. you literally make this man dizzy and lightheaded with your lips- he doesn't seem to care about the lipstick getting on him one bit when it's the two of you. he'll only feel embarrassed if you give him a small one if you're out and cover his face nervously.

malleus draconia

malleus kisses you so much that his own lips turn the color of your lipstick. not only does it attack his whole face, but you've got his lips in that shade too, he only notices when you point it out and laugh. he'll smile and hum, only to lean in for more from you.

its funny because if you're trying to give him a kiss- with your height difference you'd end up getting a stain on his neck- at best. he thinks it's amusing as he chuckles. he'll give you a real kiss then. malleus is honestly lowkey proud to have them on him, he sees it as a sign of your affection and love from you so why wouldn't he like it? he has this dumb smirk on his face when you've got the darkest shade and you kiss him, it's the most visible on him of course.

like vil, he'll happily supply you with however many you want. malleus loves seeing you wear lipstick, it's really his favorite thing. but as i've mentioned he prefers dark shades on you the best out of them all, for sure.

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland #riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #jamil x reader

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bloodcasket · 5 months

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“ EASY, BABY ”⋆ ﾟ☾

PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Pure NSFW (descriptive smut), Age gap centered!! (Death Island! Jill), Female described reader, Dom!Jill, Sub!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, reader described as more inexperienced than Jill (nothing too specified), innocence kink, fingering, finger sucking, tribbing, panty play, dirty talk, jill just loves to praise, teasing on Jill’s behalf, a lil bit of manhandling. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!

WORD COUNT: 7.4K+

DESCRIPTION: The whole department and crew is out for celebration at a restaurant. As Jill sits amongst the table, she spots the new girl, young and timid, giving shy glimpses from across the table.

AUTHORS NOTE: SUPERR rusty after lack of writing for a couple of months now, really hoping this satisfies because Jilly bean doesn’t get enough fics written about her. Let me know if there’s any mistakes, please and thank you! (I’m so normal for her, i promise). Took me too long to finish, and i got lazy toward the end.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with any of the men sitting around you, feeling forced to pry out fake enjoyment and formulate fraudulent smiles at any of their cheesy comments.

They were all grown and lax, after all, middle-aged and experienced, their worries about leaving bad impressions left long ago after years of regulating bioterrorism. They just simply didnt care, and tonight was meant to be jubilant, after all. It was a way to congratulate the team for arriving back home in one piece. Clank glasses of iced bourbon and smile after the weeks of prolonged misery and uncertainty.

It had only been a few minutes that you sat, waiting at this table, the celebratory event making you feel like the black sheep.

A timid, young stranger, her shoulders hunched in discontent, and her expression nonchalant as she sat alongside the chairs of older individuals, ones who laughed and cheered, shook hands and grinned with their cheeks shaded crimson, wrinkles creasing around the shape of their eyes.

It was people who worked drastically to make the trip to Alcatraz bearable, and handled more experience within this field. Something you felt you lacked. Something you saw yourself unequal to, off putting. In other words, even undeserving.

Employment under “The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance” was nearing a few months now for you, but your line of work strayed far from any defensive units, due to your familiarity with the information management department. You organized required files and handled technological tasks under supervisors order, you weren’t genuinely handling firearms and terminating undead like the others were within the BSAA. You were simple, and did your part, participation with higher-ups was foreign.

The invitation to come here was optional, of course, but your ripe desire to see a certain woman was hard to swallow. After several days of trying to deny yourself this opportunity, the denial became fruitless, and you finally succumbed; which leads you to sitting at this lengthy dining room table, shuffling in discomfort and trying best to bite back any resurfacing regret.

It’s a restaurant, aromas conjoining in the air, certain scents collecting that it perplexes you. The whisks of alcohol burn through your nostril hairs—your lip twitches in discontent, jaw soon slacking as fragrances of broth and caramelized delicacies fog around you. You scrunch your face and twist your cute nose, huffing in the perfumes of delight.

It was all so overwhelming, and yet you had barely done anything yet sit and spend a few minutes skimming the menu—fiddling with your hands on the table when you yearned for a distraction. And yet; another server hurries past your seat, wide platters in hand, a trail of aromatics left in his wake. Drool draws upon your impatient tongue, you wondered how much longer it would take.

“Jill, didn’t think you’d make it”, a male voice chimes, you're able to single it out amongst the banter of the public place, trying best to listen as other residents at the table mumble out tipsy-tainted sentences, snortling and getting themselves comfortable as they slosh down fancy cocktails.

The timid position in which you kept yourself in the moment you sat down at this table seems to have been disoriented, a stiffness residing down the arch of your neck as you lift your head and adjust your eyes to your surroundings.

Dimly lit, and silken curtains are drawn over windows for the evening, you blink a few times to observe across the table, eyes stretching past messy cutlery, and halfway bubbling glasses. You blink again, throat moving slowly as you swallow dryly.

Under tinted yellow light, she sits. She’s shaking her head, exaggerating a huff of exhaustion as she edges her seat closer to the table. Brunette hair is silken and syrupy brown, a few strands askew from where she let the hair descend down her face and tickle the middle of her neck, the vision filling you with exhilaration.

‘Jill Valentine’, you suddenly think, watching as she’s easing herself more comfortably into the seat, shaded heels of her boots sliding forward as she pushes her legs apart, elbows jutting against the hickory surface that you oh-so-admired for several minutes straight. She’s hunched over improperly, wrapped up in a gray woolen cardigan, not caring much for table manners. A heat brewed low in the pit of your stomach.

“Had to finish my report, it was a pain in the ass”, her adjacent partner seems to love this reaction—being that he chuckles shortly afterward, “would prefer if you took it off my shoulders next time”.

“Your responsibility”, he replies nonchalantly, Chris Redfield from what you remember, a known operator within the BSAA. He was respected largely by his peers, a man with his time spent sacrificing and protecting, all for the benefit of “greater good”. You couldn’t say much about him, you couldn’t say much about anyone to be quite frank, except for one person. His partner in crime.

Needless to say, you scrounged through your closet for hours one night to pull out piles of clothes in desperate search to find something presentable for this woman. Bouncing your eyes back and forth over different varieties of garments, torturing yourself over the delusional manifestation that you’ll attract Jill Valentine tonight.

Intimidating. Most would plaster that description over her if it was all for first impressions. A 41 year old military woman who can carry her guns just as wonderfully as she can carry her foul language. She’s blunt, and by no means patient due to certain circumstances, but with the small moments she’s managed to pass alongside you, the tiny things don’t go unnoticed.

Coincidentally, you bump into her in the lobby; she’d chuckle jovially, waving one hand toward you dismissively as you ramble out apologetic gibberish. Reassuringly telling you “it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it”.

You’re heading toward a file room? She’ll catch you in the halls, velvet lips upturned into a gentle grin as she greets you with your name slipping off her tongue, blue eyes narrowed down at you in an observant manner. She remembers the little details, remembers you.

To say it was innocent appreciation was incorrect. It was an attraction, and the more your female superior managed to cross paths with you, the more you felt the warmth in your stomach churn and twist. It embarrassed you, to say the least. Jill Valentine was probably an individual with her priorities straight, and here you were, grinding your thighs together as you squirm uncomfortably in your seat, front teeth gnawing on the swell flesh of your bottom lip. You looked ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Ogling an older woman as if she were some high school crush. Where were your priorities?

Heaps of chestnut hair suddenly color your vision, blocking your delicate view as a head leans forward to inch closer to the woman you admire, “Here Jill, saved your drink until you got here”, her voice is flowery and feminine, a tinge of nasal sweetness at the end of her chirping sentences. “Glad to see you”. You almost envy her in this moment.

“Thanks, Claire”, a pale palm wraps around the transparent glass, pearls of condensation glistening on Jill’s lengthy fingertips, her nails clumsily trimmed, and beaten hands calloused from her work. You feel your breath hitch at the sight, cotton mouthed as you watch.

Tonight was going to be long. Too long, if this was all you were going to think about.

Claire retreats to her original position in the chair, her conversation with the brunette ephemeral as she focuses her attention on another, leaving Jill solemn in her thoughts, curtly nodding to every general word Chris might possibly say. She’s taciturn, and trained on the voice of her adjacent companion.

Without the veil of ember strands shrouding over the woman’s face, you melted in your seat, lethargic and ditzy as you bored your beady eyes into the vision that was just blissfully her.

One sip, then another. Her lips curl around the lip of the glass, swallowing measured amounts of golden whiskey that smell like smoke and peaty.

“We should all get together and go on vacation after all this, think we deserve that much”, Chris suggests this as he wedges his fork into the collops of filet spread along his plate, in which the other hums, her eyes flickering from the pit of her glass and then forward, peering across the table.

Rings of cerulean catch your nosiness, and you feel the organ within your rib cage falter, and then within seconds accelerate, heart racing like a jack rabbit inside your chest. She caught you staring.

She keeps the contact for a few seconds; you’re the one who widens your eyes and cowers into yourself, suddenly pretending that the entree platter of pillowy bread rolls is of much more interest.

You think you’ve gone crazy, due to the slanted, open mouthed smirk she summons on her face, mumbling a few words in reply to the male beside her (which you don’t catch due to how much blood is rushing to your face, head swarmed with internal comments of how utterly humiliated you feel). Nevertheless, the intrigue she displays is clearly prevalent, more so in the way your young face ducked to hide yourself other than the subtle conversation Chris clearly tried to create.

Just as you had foreseen, the night was indeed long and mundane, and your quick glances at the nonchalant beauty sitting opposite of you was practically dangerous, due to how cautious she seemed of her surroundings and every object that crossed her. A habit she carried in her occupation, you supposed. She was by no means incognizant. (It would be a lie if you didn’t at least give one glimpse, though. Maybe two…maybe three).

You can’t recall if it had been an hour or more, but the facade of enjoyment seemed to lose its potency, and perhaps for others as well.

Little by little, the crew took their leave, furred winter coats slung over the slope of their shoulders as they waved and headed out for the night, giving you some trivial excuse to join alongside them. With the bill paid generously in reward for everyone, the crowd migrated out through the exit doors and into the parking lot, the wisps of frosty air breezing past in copious amounts.

You trembled, nails dipped into the lower fabric of your mini dress, trying best to ease it further down your thighs as you cursed yourself for wearing such attire.

‘All that work just to stare at her like a fucking idiot’, and now here you were, with gritted teeth and trembling flesh as you shuffled down the sidewalk in shame, purse hung over your shoulder whilst you made your way home. That is, until the crackling of gravel wound up behind you, tires rolling over cement and bright beams flashing over you as if you were a deer in the headlights. An unfamiliar car slowly approaches beside you, and you stumble in your heels as you halt.

“You waitin’ on someone or something?”, the subdued hum of the engine had synthesized with the husky chuckle that was rightfully Jill’s, “don’t tell me you were actually gonna walk home in that? No jacket?”

An arm is laid firm across the surface of her car door, her head peering out through the window as she leans forward, her expression is practically incredulous. As if she was disappointed in your choice-making, and your lack of self-awareness for the weather and time of night. She thrums her fingers across the door impatiently, other hand gripping her steering wheel as she expects an answer.

“I was just-“, and here’s the flaring heat of humiliation rising once more. Your lips are molded into a solemn line, her glare of ridicule made you feel guilty for not asking for her aid in the first place. “I’m not too far from here- I wouldn’t want to be a bother”. You’re lying through your teeth, and the brunette scoffs as if she already knows.

“Fucking hell, you were actually going to do it? You’re too young to be doing stuff like that”, she jests in a low manner, muttering more so to herself than to you. Her arm slithers back inside the vehicle, head motioning to the empty passenger seat with a quick nod. “Like hell I’m letting you walk home, it’s not safe. I’ll give you a ride. Get in”.

The authority of her tone makes your knees wobbly, and the way she sits back in her seat with her neck craned against the headrest commands urgency. She’s waiting. You feel a lump harden in your throat. She’s waiting for you.

You hasten your little steps, sheepishly opening the car door and sliding inside, whispering with pruned lips how thankful you are for the ride. You’re stiff in the seat next to her, hands folded in the center of your lap; they were numbed from the cold, goosebumps embroidered along your delicate flesh.

“Don’t mention it”, she brushes off the innocent gratitude with a witty shake of her head, vehicle rolling through the asphalt, leaving the parking lot with just a planate flick of the wrist, elongated fingers dipping into the rubberized padding of the steering wheel. You watch from your peripheral, nostrils flaring as you shakily inhale, splashes of soap and freshly cleaned laundry breeze over you, and you relish in it, stomach all filled with butterflies over something as simple as the older woman’s scent.

“Where to, then?”, she inquires with a throaty hum, vision focused on the road ahead of her. She sighs in frustration when you tell her, though she grins in utter amusement, laughing when you deluge her with stuttering apologies over a mere lie.

“Christ. Thought you said you were close?”. She makes a turn, dirt crackling under the wheels as she pulls onto another street.

“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble in shame, hands folding tighter and tighter until your knuckles jut against your skin, your face all flushed. Lower lining of the dress you wore was hiked up your thighs, you felt so exposed and scrutinized alongside her, in her car.

“It’s alright, don’t take me too seriously. New girl, right? I remember. Explains why you’re always so quiet”, Jill continues with the conversation, glimpsing over just for a second to study you before she’s focused again. “You enjoy the place? They had some nice drinks, don’t you think? It wasn’t all too bad”, you frown at her words, a heaviness nested in your chest. You hadn’t really done much tonight at the celebration. Nothing other than ogle at her, eat some bread rolls, and then ogle at her some more.

“I didn’t drink anything really, unfortunately”, admitting this was rather awkward, due to how much desire you held to impress her. Now you just felt inadequate, lackluster. “Too many people I didn’t know, if that makes any sense. I must sound boring, don’t I?”.

“Not even one drink?”, she questions, lips curved up into an open-mouthed grimace as she flutters her eyelashes in teasing surprise. “Free to get whatever you want, and you’re telling me you were too shy to even drink anything?”, and she sneers when you nod, biting down laughter in hopes she could keep you comfortable in her presence. Smile lines deepen around the shape of her mouth, silky lips blessed with a tint of coral, apples of her cheeks glowing with every beguilement grin.

“It doesn’t hurt to celebrate, you know. You work hard, I’ve noticed”, she pauses, considering her next words carefully, not wanting to tread any risky lines, “I’m not that far from my apartment anyway, want to have a drink or two? Think I’ve got some lying around, wouldn’t hurt to get em’ used up”.

Green light hanging up ahead switches rapidly from yellow to red, crimson hue painted over the dashboard and along the height of your body. You’ve sunken a little in the passenger seat, all wide-eyed and panicked when she offers. You open your mouth to answer, but she cuts you off before you could turn the opportunity down.

“Just the two of us, okay? I don’t bite, I promise”, and you swear you’re melting, too convinced. You nod in response, a simple “sure” is all you can hiccup.

‘Maybe all that time ripping apart my wardrobe was worth it?’

Maybe so, because Jill fucking Valentine is moving her lengthy index finger to the left of her steering wheel, flicking on her turn signal without a single ounce of hesitation, and then making a u-turn that can only promise one thing.

The ride to her apartment.

Agreeing was most definitely easier than doing, that was for certain. With the door opening, and her leading the way inside, not only then does it really solidify into reality. One of your leading superiors—a trained operations agent—has driven you back to her apartment to “share drinks” and “celebrate without all the other chatter”. At least that’s what she bargained for in the car.

You’ve politely found purchase on the faux leather cushion of her couch, material beige and smoothened, and you curl into it as you keenly gape around the place.

The condo is fresh, and crisp, organized and minimalistic, but still with a trace that’s so understandably miss valentine.

After hearing about rumors of Jill’s horror in raccoon city, you can almost bet she’s much more at ease now, with her new place, and her new position. Eager to distance from her solemn past.

She’s a workaholic, that’s for sure, multiple rooms in her living space and she’s dedicated one for her research; the door slightly agape, and you can’t help but satiate your curiosity as you squint your eyes and look past the doorknob.

With what little you can see through the crevice, there’s a desk inside with files strewn along the top, corkboard furnished along the wall and vital information pinned to it with colored thumbtacks. Not able to help yourself, a tender smile cracks on your lips as you notice irrelevant stickers plastered along the granulated cork, designs of cats and succulents the older woman has happily put everywhere. Your heart pangs at the innocent gesture, imagining such a stern individual indulging herself with such small and adorable items.

“Do you have a preference? Want anything in particular?”, said woman calls from the kitchen, face astern and a hand pushing the fridge door open. Hastily, you retreat your beady eyes, suddenly feeling impertinent for your sense of wonder. She lists off what she has, but it’s all foreign to you, not making much sense from your lack of alcohol expertise.

“I’m not sure”, you shrug sheepishly, a bashful grin displayed, “anything is fine, really”. ‘Anything that you pick, I’ll drink’, sounds more correct, but you digress.

She reads you like you’re an open book, your naivety and youth all too transparent and sat right on her couch, eyebrows furrowed and hands respectfully folded in your lap. A position she’s noticed you in ever since you were rigid and unsettled in her vehicle. When were you ever going to relax? It filled her with incomprehensible mirth, the way you were.

“You’re quite young, aren’t you?”, Jill teases a little, poking at the spots that make you internally weak as she flashes a knowing smirk, “don’t drink a lot I take it? That’s alright”.

She retrieves two glasses from her cupboard and fills them with her pick as you so kindly advocated, closing the fridge and then sauntering over. She takes her place beside you, the leather sinking from the weight of two, her thigh resting along the couch and the shape of her kneecap brushing against you.

“All yours. Bottoms up”, a throaty chuckle resounds in her throat as she offers the drink, ushering for you to take it into your small hands, in which you oblige with unreadable panic. “Cheers”, she clinks her glass with yours, before she’s reclining into the cushion and swallowing, throat muscles contracting up and down.

You only manage to gulp down a small portion of the beverage, soured reaction shriveling your lips. It wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it was Jill’s, and you found it as well sought after as any nobel prize. This drink, this couch, this moment. This moment with her, even if every lick of the bitter whiskey was deathly, you would still sacrifice every lumpy taste bud just for a second with the woman.

Slowly, she sets the drink down on the coffee table, and you watch her movements carefully. Those hands of hers guide the cardigan off her shoulder blades, shrugging the gray fabric down and onto an armrest with a composed exhale.

What torture it is, your foolish reverence for her. Dirty incalescence ferments between the swell of your thighs, burning and burning once you catch sight of the dip between her chest, cleavage freckled with age and brown moles dotted along her sharpened collarbone. Her tight little blue tank top hiding underneath that damned cardigan this whole time. The fabric is stressed across the seaming of her bust, creased and curled until it dips down and hugs around the frame of her waist. There’s no fucking way you’ll be able to make it through tonight without slipping up.

“You’re brave for working under the organization, no matter what you do. Reminds me of when I first started training, I was around your age too. It’s risky, but I’m sure you already know that”, she bends downward to unlace her coal-shaded boots, tugging the zipper down without an ounce of patience in her.

“You gettin’ along with everybody? How is everything, with the new position and all? I mean, the way you were acting earlier, it makes me worried. If anyone’s screwing with you-”.

“No no no, it’s not like that, I promise”, you cut her off, shaking your head quickly in hopes you could help her understand your viewpoint, in which she glances at you and sits upright. She got you to talk, and if she wasn’t absolutely smug about it.

“Everything is fine, and the department is kind to me. You’ve been very generous too, and I’m thankful. I’m just…still trying to get used to everything”, she bobs her head with acumen, digesting every syllable and stumble of your words, listening maturely. She finds flattery in your compliment toward her, doing best not to grin.

“How is it with, um…you and Chris?”, you ask, and the moment the question slips past your lips, you’re filled with utter regret. What kind of question was that? Valentine raises her eyebrow in bewilderment, shocked by the sudden change in subject. She draws her arm along the head of the couch, manspreading whilst she sits as she pleases, eyes still narrowed with pique and pointed in your general direction.

“Me and Chris?”, the laughter she bellows out is vocal, giggling deeply without much restraint, “we’re partners, is all. We’ve been in this field for a while now.”

The way she carries herself around you is as if she’s known you for years, like this is just some humorous conversation that fills her with interest. She wasn’t this excited to speak at the restaurant, you’ve noted, and it’s heartwarming. You, of all people, have made her soft.

Despite all the liquor she’s consumed tonight, she is still impressively sober, quick to catch on to all your soft spoken words, and averting eyes. Although, her high tolerance, of all things, is not a particular trait of hers that surprises you. It only aids the turmoil that rumbles in your chest; it makes you feel weighed down and heavy, the scent of luxurious usquebaugh lingering on her tongue after every breath she releases.

“I see”, you mumble, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jill rolls her blue eyes, “you’re always apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry about”, the room falls silent, clock that’s hung on her wall ticking as seconds prolong into minutes. That is, until she speaks again.

“What about you? Got a boyfriend? Lay it on me”, and the room feels like it’s suddenly enclosing, the words strangely suffocating, and you refuse to admit your sheer infatuation you bore for her. You shake your head with silence, finding that your speechlessness was a better reply rather than your jumbled words of anxious gibberish. One slip up, and you knew it would be over.

Your fingers tease the constricting dress again, eyes exerting to the way your thighs expand and lay flat on her sofa. The way the material fits you like a glove was sweltering, especially with her obsidian pupils beating down on you, drinking up your every tentative counter.

“So that’s a no”, she snorts at your lack of volume, feeling filled with confidence. “You stare a lot, you know that? I noticed you looking at me all night. I don’t scare you, do I?.”

You shoot your attention toward her now, irises apprehensively rounded and wide, and you feel the world absolutely crumble as you're struck with distress over her admittance. She did notice, after all. How pathetic you must have looked the whole time, peering from the fucking entree platter to her every couple of minutes, so visibly envious whenever anyone uttered a single word to her.

“No, I”-

Your pale lips tremble as they open, an absinthal taste wrought over your tongue and depleting any moisture from your mouth. You try to answer, meek and destroyed from your own clumsy dilemma. How different this could have been, if only you weren’t so gullible when it came to your yearning, now leading yourself into chagrin as you couldn’t keep your eyes away earlier.

“I’m sorry”, you pipe out, “I didn’t mean to”-, and she’s engulfing you, brain all smothered into mush and your body liquidizing to putty under the embrace she ensnares you in. Countless nights you’ve spent imagining how every curve of her lips feels pressed along yours, how they move, how they taste, but absolutely nothing can put into words how beautiful they feel as they swallow up your squeaks of dismay.

She’s crawling forward until she’s got you all laid out underneath her, squirming in your position as you submit to the palm she lays on your chest, a firm push she gives until you’ve gone flat amongst the leather cushion. With her legs now entangled with yours, she’s content, humming into the kiss she’s so rightfully initiated, sharp nose dipping into the velvet skin of your face, and skimming along your cheek with every tilt of her head.

Challenged by inexperience, you try best to keep up with the opening and closing of her mouth she’s laying upon you, her eyes sealed as her lips seemingly can’t control themselves, a hunger you’ve never expected from Jill. Flavors of malt she's got melting from her tongue, intoxicated saliva that’s mixed with yours and creating a slippery concoction between your lips with every thirsting lick she provokes.

“Need some attention? Am I right?”, the brunette separates from the bliss she had solicited, lips detaching with a wet smack so she can inhale sharply. “I’m much older than you, much”-, she huffs, airily snickering at the sight behold just right beneath her, “much fucking older.” She drags the wriggling muscle out from between her teeth and over her lips, collecting the moisture and spit you had so generously lathered over her. To die like this, it would be divine.

You lay dormant and vulnerable to her control, but she had warned you. Her words were not to be taken lightly, but rather, considered. To give up your innocence for such a filthy, wretched moment like this, Jill knew better. But those eyes of yours had begged, pleaded, were filled with desperation. Whatever she had done, or would do, you wouldn’t lament over it—but rather—savor it.

“I know”, you speak up, balancing the shakiness that wracks you. You’ve wanted a moment like this with her, and you refused to let it slip away from the cracks of your fingers when she was so, so close to granting you everything you’ve wished. “I know you are.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Explains all the staring, that goddamn dress during winter for Christ’s sake, all on purpose, I take it, tryna get my attention”, the silver pendant of her necklace dangles above you, circling as if it’s meant to entrance you. “The hell am I going to do with you?.”

The authority that oozes off her foul tongue is like morphine, an opiate you’ve swallowed, it’s addictive and ruins your common sense completely. Innocent eyes flicker back and forth, your jaw now slack as you can’t focus between the heat swirling in her pupils, or the way her lips taunt you for another taste.

The delicate curve of her nose, like a deity the way she so naturally is, sculpted from the stars as you examine the dorsal bump that sits near the bridge between her eyes, and then arches down to her cupid's bow. You want to pepper kisses all over her, take a risk into her world, trace the fine lines that are embedded into her pale complexion. God, you wanted it, no matter how foolish you would become.

Not able to withstand another teasing comment, you bring your lips to hers with vehemence, your shaky hands drawn over the stretch of her back, nails bundling up fistfuls of blue cotton fervently and with lack of restraint.

“Easy, baby”, the older woman rasps out a discordant laugh as she eases apart from you, “I got it, sweetheart. Let’s take our time, no need to rush anything.”

But the way your fingers are threading up her spine, carding through the syrupy strands of her hair and burying the pads of your fingers into her darkened roots tell her everything. “Please”, you whisper, a whine of desire prolonging from your throat, “take me to bed.”

And who is she to deny such a request? Fallen at your feet from square one.

With groping hands and ragged breaths, Jill has led you to her room and shoved her calloused hands onto the square of your chest, watching you stumble your way backward until your knees wobble, feet losing balance and you surrender your footing. Now draped along her mattress, you’re sprawled amidst her disheveled sheets, unintentionally alluring at the edge of her bed. A present that needed to be unwrapped and reveled in. Undressed and ravaged.

Undoubtedly, the attraction was mutual. Too reticent to meet her eye, fledgling and modest you were, a stark contrast to the indecent and repugnant men that stuck around and partnered alongside Jill in multiple missions. She was abnormally engrossed in you, freshly employed, seeing a sliver of compassion in every beam you presented, how much you were blossoming compared to the others who groaned and wailed.

Of course, your age had been worrisome, and Jill felt guilt course within her at such salacious contemplations. But to have you laid out in this moment, so youthful, so precious, she knew it was alright. She was going to take such good care of you, that was certain, cherish you like no other. And from the way you propped your weight up onto your elbows to wait for her, in her bed—she knew you had waited a while for this too. The glimmering twinkle in your glossy eyes, an unspoken plea from the depths of your soul.

Jill pried your heels off your feet and threw the irrelevant shoes to the floor, long fingertips prodding along the protruding talus bone and further down to the curve of your calf, pulling your leg upward so she could chastely peck along the skin. Give you softness before she fucked you clueless, solicited vulnerable cries from that sweet mouth.

“God, you’re so perfect, sweet thing. Need you to be good and spread your legs for me”, she mumbles amongst unarticulated nibbles to your calf, two strong hands guiding your limbs apart with your permission. You comply, breath hitched in your throat, craning your neck back once she lowers a palm between your two thighs, index and middle finger circling into your sticky panties, meddling with the sodden gusset.

She grunts, your wet cunt fueling her ego. She knew it was worth examining how ruined you already were, but this quick? How precious.

“Fucking hell, you’re needy”, you flush viciously at her jesting observation, squirming so sensitively at the swirls and caresses of sensual friction, every plunge of her trimmed nails into the flimsy fabric were torturous. Panties are humid and tainted from your own very need, and you feel your body is just an ocean of desire, body overflowing with lecherous want.

You wantonly gripe and huff, dress now creased and hiked up to your navel as Jill holds you still and anchored, one hand clamped around your knee securely as the other is buried between your thighs, toying with you. Coaxing those gentle gasps out of you that make her heart swell, fill her with greedy pride.

“Just a couple of kisses, and your panties are already ruined”, she curls a finger into the band and drags the elastic up, the soiled undergarment loose and freed from your glistening labia, before Jill releases, the material slapping back down within mere seconds. Jolting and whimpering, you’re appalled from the igniting slap amongst your sensitive warmth, hips jittering and Jill flashes you a playful smile.

“Half my goddamn age and gettin’ all wet”, she tugs the panties up now, watching the cotton sink into the slick of your pussy, lips curled around the laced seam and cutely puffed out, glistening with your own pronounced arousal. “Pretty girl”, she muses, dark eyebrows creased and wrinkles of concentration forming along her forehead as she gawks at you coming apart, beseeching for mercy with little squeaks and airy sighs. She wonders when you’ll demand pleasure, but such a sweetheart you are, letting Jill have her way with you.

She’s too impatient for this little game, having enough of prolonging your reward of indescribable pleasure and ecstasy. She pushes the damp gusset to the side, a bridge of transparent slick breaking apart from the undergarment once she bares your cunt to her hungry eyes, lengthy fingers spreading your velvety lips apart, her mouth formulating into an impressed “o” at the vision.

“Jill”-, you pipe up with uncertainty, but she hushes you, another kiss she smothers to your calf. “I know”, she hums, “I know”. You feel all warm inside, sickened with endearment by the way she looks at you, clenching around thin air as you imagine how well she’ll fill you. You’re all hers tonight, she knows this.

A veil of brown tresses conceal half her face as she lowers her head to a calculated angle, sharp collarbone and shoulder blades pronounced once she bends closer to your clit. She collects tepid drool off the tip of her pink tongue, and hurls it down onto your turgescent pearl, watching her bubbling saliva sully your pretty little pussy and drip down to your pulsating hole, entrance begging to be split open as you clench once…then twice, and a third time. You shiver at the contrast of temperature, cool slick now warmed by the draw of her thermal spittle, and you attempt to keep your head up to watch with half-lidded eyes, desperate to see the woman you loved.

Despite her foul-mouthed tendency, and inclination for dirty talk, she was slow, and tender. Her hands were rough, marred from training and littered with blemishes and scarring. Though, she was so considerate the way she plopped her thumb along the swell of your clit, textured fingertips rubbing upward against the flesh, flicking the small, and hardened bud with precision that had you moaning brokenly into her pillows. Your nostrils flare, inhaling her musk that’s adorned the sheets, the scent enveloping you, in which you only moan louder.

“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you. Like my fingers?”

“Mhm!”, you had no words to speak, clasping onto the bedding as she steadily draws circles of pleasure over your enlarging bud. She tests the waters, pointer finger nudging at your dripping entrance, and when you make no sound of denial, she buries herself inside, curling one finger into your cunt. She laughs flippantly as your body instinctively swallows her in, fleshy walls tightening and frenzied, clenching sporadically around her, and she adds another finger slowly, trying best to be careful with you; her precious girl.

“Jill- oh my god”, the sudden stretch of her fingers is surreal, sticky taint gushing from your weeping hole and defiling the pale, boney fingers that split you apart so remarkably, obscene sonorities that climb up the walls and ring into your ears. You were already soaked earlier after the push of her tongue along your teeth, a saturated flower between your shaking legs, luminous and gleaming after a rainfall of dominance the older woman harbored.

But the way she bullies her knuckles inside you, her spit sloven hands smearing her slobber all over your vulva—you've been undeniably ruined, sopping mess that’s smeared to the flesh of your inner thighs and down to the shape of your rear, and you sob.

“Can’t- can’t do it”, your body says otherwise, pleading for more, blood rich and adrenaline coursing through bluish veins like wildfire. Thrust after thrust, and push after push; transforming your mortal chassis into molten nothingness. You’ve surrendered willingly, fallen victim to a certain euphoria that wounds around you, ensnares you into a blanket of submission.

“You can”, Valentine coaxes, more of a demand than suggestion, inspecting you past her webbed eyelashes, “and you will.” Her two fingers are tight against one another, pummeling toward the spongy muscle inside you with a pump of her wrist, arm flexing as she opens you wide to her advantage, folds spread apart to her liking, flapping limply atop the tarnished knuckles that gets forced into your noisy pussy. You’re writhing desperately, an arm flailing down the arch of your stomach to catch her, and you’re teary eyed; two crystals gleaming and threatening fat tears.

You’ve begun to blubber riddles of nonsense, incoherent gasps that can only direct Jill toward one conclusion, and once your hips grind upward to meet the dry surface of her palm, she’s sucking her teeth. You’re close, she smirks in understanding.

“Hm!”, you shake your head, and what else can you say? Disheveled and torn away, once innocent and pure, now fragmented into a vision of a filth from the way you moan symphonies. Dress slithered up just below the cave of your ribs, and a trembling hand clamping down on the wrist that’s trapped between your lifted thighs, you’re the image of a prostitute.

Nonchalant from your intrusive hand desperate to stop her, Jill swats you away and flashes you an expression that reads ‘don’t do that again’, before she’s plunging once more, and your stomach lurches, hitched breath trapped within your esophagus.

“Listen to yourself”, she tantalizes, sultry remarks hissing from the gaps of her pearly whites, and you whimper delicately as you begin to lose yourself in the bliss. It’s only in that moment of fragility that you recognize what she finds so amusing, the squelching of your cunt, juices lewd and sloppy as they flow, and you’re clenching around the older woman’s joints within. Further and further, until the rope breaks, and you’re crumbling into oblivion, battered fingers ushering you into an orgasm of pristine heaven.

Her thumb lulls you from your sequencing spasms, rubbing your used little clit in tender circles as she marvels over such magnificence with blown pupils, still standing at the edge of the bed whilst she listens to the howls of elation that tumble from your cute lips. She’s got to stop herself from hounding you right now, control the erotic sparks that are boiling underneath the constriction of her pants. She did this, and if she didn’t feel so full of herself because of it. Thoroughly smitten with you.

“There you go”, she hushes you with rasping care, observing with worry as your soft hips remain twitching, “you okay?.”

She abandons the mess she made the moment she joins alongside you, crawling to fill the cold space amongst the bed, suckling marks of woo under the slant of your jaw once she’s beside you. Slender, protective arms are snared around your heaving figure, and you’re humming to reassure her, reaching to grasp onto the meat of her biceps for a sense of imploring comfort.

“You did good”, a husky murmur that rumbles from her, reverberates through you as she douses nurturing pecks along the crown of your swarming head, your brain filled with static and fuzz from such an experience. She thinks you’re finished for the night, wasted and frayed—the humble woman she was—figuring she’ll get you cleaned up and call it a night.

The conclusion is omitted, fortunately, from the moment your mouth falls agape, needy muscle thrashing inside and your libido pulsates. You lever her hand that was once caressing your waist, and bring it upon the seat of your bottom lip, peering past your nose at the wrinkled fingertips; pruned and soiled from the liquid you've drenched them in. Your release, glued and preserved amidst the pores of the brunette's skin.

A low sigh of approval erupts from Jill’s chest as you clean the cracks and crevices you’ve dirtied, your beady eyes now sealed tightly as you slurp on the digits hungrily.

“Can’t baby”, she drawls, cunt throbbing and irritated as it stays purchased amongst the seaming of her ripped jeans. “Might be too much for tonight.”

As if you’re adamant on her docility and compliance, you swirl your tongue over her nail beds, the addictive brewery of your cum, globs of spit, and her flesh had all become dewy and sloshed down the walls of your throat. You moan, bobbing your head until you sputter around her, and the two digits sit upon their tongue-like throne beside the swell of your tonsils, leaving you gagging stupidly by the sensations.

Fucks sake, she wants to pummel that honeyed mound into the sheets until you’re ripping her off, tear streaks racing down your cheekbones. You fucking asked for it? You’re gonna get it.

“Want you to feel good”, you gargle, batting your eyelashes, “please?”

Denial dawns heavily upon her for the second time tonight, the fear of mauling your body—her temple of worship—weighing heavy on her racing heart. But the stench of sex disarms her restraint, the prodding canines and writhing tongue deepthroating her fingers merely convincing her. “Wanna feel you”, you whimper, “wanna”- and there’s no more words that need to be said.

Constricting fabric and other layers of clothes are shredded apart within a matter of seconds, now askew and in disorganized piles amongst the older woman’s bedroom floor. She couldn’t care less, peeling off everything she, or you possibly owned, a chest of ample breasts swinging and soft, chocolate moles dotted from her collarbone to the curve of her rising tits. You feel them perk against your own, nipples coupled and stimulating one another. Her robust figure straddles your hips, strengthened thighs not allowing an escape as she wrestles her lips against yours, groaning in low carnality.

The night is crude, bawdy, and daring. Jill Valentine’s apartment molding into a pornographic masterpiece, with licentious kisses exchanged with swollen lips, and entwined legs that brush against one another. She’s slotted herself so perfectly against your cunt, raising her hips so she can grind her clit against yours, and it’s everything she’s wanted. Everything you've wanted. Hymns of pleasure conjoin, and she’s clamping your thighs as she meets you in the center, a sultry look through her hooded eyes. With nails digging crescents into your skin, she huffs out a hissing moan, string of curse words descending before she can communicate properly.

“So close babe, so fucking close”, Jill’s pelvis pushes upward, folds kissing one another and she connects with you like you’re both two puzzle pieces meant for one another. “Gotta wait for me baby, wait for me, okay?”. She’s already said that many times tonight, stilling her scissoring once she spots even a measly scrunch of enjoyment building up on your youthful features. Egging you on just to shatter any shroud of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck this sweet pussy all night”, she grunts, chuckling in mirth at your whines for release, beads of sweat drawn over her temples. “Be patient with me baby, be patient”. And she’s tugging the ropes again, leg drawn over yours as she rubs against you, over and fucking over again, until you’re a ruptured woman, humbled from your own begging.

#bloodcasket #resident evil smut #jill valentine smut #resident evil x reader #jill valentine x you #jill x reader #jill valentine fanfiction #jill valentine x reader #jill fanfic #lesbian

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bkgml · 1 year

Text

secret relationship katsuki!

mr aizawas class was targeted in yet another villain attack.

unfortunately you and your boyfriend, katsuki, were separated from each other amongst the debris and battles going on around you.

katsukis having trouble standing. his ears are ringing and he’s fading in and out of consciousness. this villain didnt hold back. he would normally be ecstatic with a fight like this, but now that he’s older, he’s matured. he knows he isn’t ready for a villain this tough. he wishes he was in bed with his sweet girlfriend instead of fighting.

his eyes begin to open.

god when did that light get so bright?

oh.

he’s not in his dorm.

“yn?” he calls as he tries to sit up.

“yn? baku-bro you feeling alright?” kirishima calls to his friend.

katsukis breathing gets shorter and more erratic.

“where is she? where’s yn? is she okay?!”

“woah woah calm down! she’s in the waiting room, she asked to come in but i figured since you guys don’t talk that much that you wouldn’t want her in here.” kirishima explains.

katsuki relaxes slightly. can’t kirishima just mind his business. you’re probably freaking out.

katsuki watched aizawa walk past his door.

“sensei! bakugous awake now.”

aizawa turns on his heel and strides into his room.

“glad to see you’re awake.”

“i need to see her.”

aizawa nods and heads towards the waiting room.

“baku-bro what’s going on with you?”

aizawa was the only one who knew of your relationship. he caught you sneaking into bakugous room one night. he almost expelled you on the spot but thought back to how much bakugou has mellowed out lately. he’ll let it slide.

you sit in the waiting room with your head in your hands. this chair is uncomfortable. your friends and your boyfriend are stuck in hospital beds and you’re worried about your chair. your leg keeps bouncing. these lights are bright. i hate the smell of hospitals. hey there’s aizawa, does he have an update?

you stand.

“sensei, what’s going on?”

“he’s awake. he wants to see you.”

you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. thank god he’s alright.

“who’s ‘he’? yn what’s going on with you?” your pink friend asks.

“can i go see him?” you ignore mina in hopes of seeing katsuki sooner.

aizawa raises an eyebrow at how you ignored your friend.

“i’ll take you.”

you and aizawa arrive at katsukis room.

“kirishima, give these two some privacy please?”

a confused kirishima passes by you.

you practically run into the room and aizawa closes the door behind you.

“katsuki.” you breathe out.

“c’mere, baby, get into bed with me.”

you laugh and hesitate even though how badly want to lay with him.

“you’re all bruised kats. besides we won’t fit.”

“shush. c’mon.” he lifts the blanket for you and you crawl in, hiding your face in his chest and nuzzling.

“don’t ever do this to me again. i almost kicked kirishimas ass to get in here.”

katsuki laughs.

“it would have been worth it. i almost had a heart attack when i woke up and you weren’t in here. thought you were hurt.”

you sigh in content.

“i’m just so happy you’re okay.”

“me too, angel.”

“awwwww.” kirishima watches from in between the shades over the window.

“i told you to give them privacy.” aizawa says.

“i didnt even know they were dating!”

“you missed all the signs then.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x yn #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you

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ryuluvr · 2 months

Text

needy. (wlw, smut)

warnings: softdom!ryu, sub!reader, mommy kink, thigh riding, praise, slight begging, orgasm permission.

summary: reader is horny as hell but is shy when it comes to asking ryujin to help them out. (requested, tysm!!)

word count: 1000

( not proof read, ends as quick as it starts tbh, just wanted to get something out after such a long break! )

you adjusted yourself on the edge of your double bed, crossing one leg over the other as your eyes settled on ryujin across the room. she was gaming at a desk, the game irrelevant to you in this moment. this woman looked good, too good. and no matter how hard you fought it, all you could think about was her touching you, her slender fingers exploring every inch of your soft skin. you left the room more times than you could count to try and occupy yourself and distract your dirty mind, but of course it was no use. you needed her, desperately, but asking for that felt beyond embarrassing for someone as shy as you.

a deep sigh escaped your lips once you reached the living room, throwing yourself down on the nearest couch and immediately zoning out. cleaning wont help, listening to music wont help, nothing you try will take fucking ryujin out of your head.

“hey, you okay?” immediately you snap back to reality, ryujin chuckling at the sight of you just sitting there in silence. in a poor attempt to clear your mind you shake your head and smile up at her sweetly. you didnt even hear her walk to you.

“i’m good, sorry!”

“you look like you got a lot on your mind… stressed, baby?”

“no- nothing like that, dont worry.”

ryujin quickly makes herself comfortable beside you on the couch, her eyes scanning every inch of your face which immediately made you feel hot. her hand reaches for your thigh and she gives it a light squeeze, frowning at your silence.

“talk to me, baby. what’s wrong?” her eyes were practically burning into your skin and it was unbearable. as you glanced in the opposite direction, your cheeks flushed a deep pink shade, embarrassment completely taking over you. as much as you didnt want to admit it, you thought maybe its time. she was not going to let you leave until you told her.

to your surprise, ryujin took your chin gently between her thumb and finger, turning your head to face her. “baby.” she spoke once more, this time much lower, her voice barely audible. something had switched up inside her and it was obvious to you.

“i just… i dont know… i just keep thinking about you.” you matched the other woman’s tone, soon biting down on your bottom lip due to the nerves.

ryujin understood within seconds. she always does. “you want me, pretty?” she began, “want some attention?”

her voice was enough to make you go weak, nodding without giving it a single thought. she quietly asked you to stand up before pulling off your panties and letting your skirt fall to the floor shortly after. ryujin lightly tapped her thigh with the hand previously holding your face. you wasted no time, immediately positioning yourself on her thigh and letting her soft lips teasingly brush against your neck. you grip onto her shoulders to keep yourself up as a slight whimper escapes you. ryujin started by trailing multiple kisses across your neck and up to your jawline, her hands rubbing your back lightly from under your top.

you were still, yet could still feel how wet you were against her thigh. ryujin was wearing shorts, so the skin on skin feeling was driving you beyond crazy. her lips claimed yours in a desperate kiss, eventually disconnecting when she slipped your top off and over your head, her fingers immediately working at your bra to remove that too. a gasp left your lips when you felt ryujins tongue trace along your nipples, flicking them enough to make you whine loudly.

“ryu, please…” you could barely think, and your cheeks showed no sign of cooling down. she paused to press a gentle kiss to your lips instead, her right hand brushing your hair out of your face. it was little things like that which made you melt.

ryujin’s hands gripped onto your hips and began guiding you on her thigh causing a soft moan to escape you. you continued grinding against her and your clit was throbbing more with every passing second. you dragged your soaked folds against ryujin’s skin, your nails practically digging into her shoulders to keep yourself upright.

“does it feel good, baby?” ryujin asked, her warm breath tickling your ear, “you like getting off on mommy’s thigh, hm?”

your entire body shuddered at her words, your pace quickening as you desperately tried to chase an orgasm.

“ah- i do!” a series of moans and whimpers filled the room as you continued grinding against ryujin’s thigh, one hand running up to squeeze your breast. “mommy, ‘m so close.. fuck, it feels so good..”

a devilish smirk appeared across ryujin’s face as she tensed her thigh, sending immense waves of pleasure to your needy cunt. her grip on your soft hips tightened as she kept planting sloppy kisses to your lips and neck.

“have i told you that you can come baby?” ryujin asked, her tone even lower than before. your head dropped as your body twitched over her, needing to stop yourself before you came without her permission. you didn’t care if it was embarrassing, you needed release.

“please ryu- fuck, please mommy! please can i cum? i need it!” you begged, pathetically whining into the crook of her neck. she waited a few moments as if to torture you before quietly agreeing. “cum for me, angel, let it out.”

your hips didn’t hesitate to pick up the pace once more, only taking a matter of seconds to reach your climax. your pornographic moans and loud squeals filled the room as you made a mess all over ryujin’s thigh, desperately rubbing your overly sensitive clit against her soft skin until you felt your whole body go limp on top of her.

ryujin instantly wrapped her arms around your waist and held you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek as you came down from such a high.

“feel better, baby?” she whispered before pulling you further onto her lap, your cheeks flushing a deep pink shade. you nodded as if to say yes and cuddled up to the other woman, smiling through the gentle kiss you pressed against her lips.

#shin ryujin smut #ryujin smut #itzy smut #girl group smut fxf #girl group smut #itzy imagines #ryujin itzy #itzy fanfic #ryujin fanfic #wlw nfst #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #fxf smut #kpop smut #smut #itzy ryujin

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privitivium · 2 months

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M reader wanting to explore a haunted house not knowing that Yan!ghost lived there and while exploring M reader just felt something brush on their dick and just ignored it and thought that it was just the wind, after exploring M reader thought that it would be a good idea to sleep in one of the rooms and while he was sleeping, there was a wet feeling on his dick and ofcourse he just woke up so he's still a lil confused and looked down to see kind of a dark shade riding his dick

Also can i be 💌 anon? Also i'm friends with ⚰️ anon hehe

yes of course you can be 💌 anon,,,, coffin and heart sticker letter go great together :333 sorry it took so long, im trying to do my asks in order,,,, reader comes along to find an abandoned house and explores in short... sry 4any mistakes...

ghost yan x m reader.... cw; somno, dubcon

exploring the forest and coming to find a small little house. two stories - three, if you count the attic.. mostly intact windows as you leisurely walk around the house, sifting through the brush; trying to scope it out, admiring it before you even try to enter.. untamed weeds and grass surrounding the front. reminding you of those urbex videos you find yourself watching just before you go to sleep... and now, to live out that dream yourself of finding an abandoned property... so scary..!! but so brag worthy..

you didn't wanna disturb anyone if they were squatting, but.. so far out here? in the forest? you take your chances, grinning to yourself as you eagerly push in through the front door - unlocked, and unjammed to your merriment!! it reminds you of the house on ahs, first season.. but not as big. the interior is definitely alike... eagerly, butterflies of excitement swarming your tummy as you you pull your phone out and record your exploration for your own enjoyment... purely in your own world and missing the shadows disappearing just out of the corner of your peripheral. too focused on recording to show your friends. going around the front, showcasing the windows nicely... you figure you should add some commentary... but it is for your enjoyment, and you dont feel like talking. why ruin this beautiful showcase of this lovely home that you would totally make your own hangout place? how cool would that beㅡ?

yelping softly as you felt something brush against your groin as you pass the presumed living room areaㅡit startles you where you almost drop your cameraㅡyour own hand cupping your crotch as to protect yourself, looking around your surroundings warily... you weren't even close to anything. and damn, that felt like a fucking hand.. shrugging it off, fussing and trying to shake your jitters out by laughing softly under your breath at how paranoid you are - making fun of yourself..

slowly edging up the stairs, noting that they were too damn creaky.. no way in fucking hell were you looking for a basement - maybe you'd come back with friends and explore that.. giddy at the thought of bringing companions as you hold out your camera; getting a nice shot of the winding hallway, before entering one of the closest rooms. completely empty. window intact.. still surprising. has no one actually explored this place? completely uncharted land!?! quickly moving closer to get a shot out of the window. you hum to yourself in satisfaction, interrupting yourself with a shiver as a cold wind brushes over you - it seems something is definitely hear, huh.. steps, following yours. so faint you nearly miss it as you exit the room... nonchalantly going into the next. a bedframe and boxspring that didnt quite fit the bedframe.. and to sleep in a haunted house... now wouldn't that be brag worthy?

yeah, fuck it. who else can say they slept in a haunted house? yeah.. fatigue washing over you a little too coincidentally, huh.

huffing in displeasure all cool-like even when you were positively terrified.. it was only around three p.m... no where to be on a saturday afternoon.. you look over the box spring, all old and ripped up.. you've slept on worse. checking for bugs... and checking how the handle on the door locks, making sure it will still open even if you close it completely; locking it, just incase someone like yourself comes in to explore.. ( doubtful. ) you set an alarm, setting your phone by your ear and laying down on your side.. using your arm as a pillow as you lay down, curled up and cozy in your jacket, trying to ignore the cold chill that washes over you - huddling deeper in your thick clothes... snoozing away in the decrepit room, thoughts lurking in the back of your mind that man... someone's gonna find you in here and scare you awake... you definitely had a hard time falling asleep. before you knew it, you ere out like a light with no signs of feeling drowsy..

eyes blinking open, laid out on your back.. a shiver wracking your body. even your dick is freezing, you thought... and feeling itchy as though it were wet. sleepily feeling around to cup your groin in your warm hands to scratch that itch with your digits - meeting solid surface-! fatigued eyes snapping open in shock, eyes lasering in on a pure shadowy figure plotting on your cock, bouncing away as though they were merely using you as a toyㅡable to make out their thighs, zeroing in on the way their hole was fluttering around your prick so heavenlyㅡchoking up, almost tearful, as you squirm underneath throwing your head back and pushing your hips upwards - man, you just thought you were having a wet dream... trying to will your body to sit up - to get whatever the fuck was riding your cock like a crazed freak off of you, even though... it was s-so warm.. for a ghost...

my god was it tight, squeezing down on your dick like it was trying to suck you in - was it fucking ribbed? this shadow figure sure knew what they liked, a garbled mess of moans and breathless chopped whines escaping what you can only presume their lips.. damn, even getting it on with ghosts? now that is brag worthy.. hissing in a breath through your teeth; your lower intenstines beginning to coil as the chubby shadow figure delibrately tenses around your cock, moist and slick and snug.. they mustve been going at it for awhile even with you sleeping, huah... bucking your hips upwards with a soft huff, hole fluttering around nothing - so close to bustingㅡare you bleeding...? grunting softly under your breath as you weakly lift your fingertips to your face, scratching at the itch along your upper lip and disturbed to find a wet substance.. pulling your digits back and spotting bright crimson. head dropping back against the box spring, hissing softly, but no complaint as you trail your tingly palms along the shadow figure's thighs, squeezing - groping. thick... they seemed to like that as their own hands trail over your abdomen, inching closer and closer... leaning over as they grind their ass onto your crotch, cock burying deep into their innardsㅡ

your alarm rings outㅡspluttering as you shoot upwards, startled awake. immediately checking the time, eyes squinting at the brightness.. it's been three hours.. my god. glancing downward as your dick felt particularly cold as the wind brushes over you from the broken window, cock soft and hanging out of your pantsㅡyelping softly as you fondle yourself back into your jeans. way overtly sensitive for whatever reason. you expected to wake up hard, not soft.. i mean, damn. that dream had you gasping for air, no?... now if only you were recording yourself sleeping..

#x male reader #male reader #top male reader #x top male reader #ocs =͟͟͞͞★#yandere ghost x male reader #yandere ghost!!!!#uhh... bottom ghost yandere.....#yandere x male reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male x reader

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gunnerfc · 4 months

Text

❄️ WOSO FICMAS: Dec. 18 - Alessia Russo ❄️

Alessia Russo x Reader (Man United & England) | WC: 729

Dec. 18 prompt - finding yourself under the mistletoe with the person you have a crush on

-> woso ficmas masterlist can be found here!

Having spent a lot of time around Alessia during her time at United, you had developed a small (massive) crush on the blonde, and playing for the same national team didn’t help those feelings. You weren’t aware that Alessia shared those feelings, neither of you wanted to say anything for fear of the other not feeling the same.

Your teammates at United saw right through both of you when Alessia was still at the club and now that she’s with Arsenal, they can see how upset you are without the blonde striker. It was during a national team camp that Ella accidentally let it slip to the other Lionesses about Alessia’s crush on you, which was met with comments about how you had a crush on Alessia as well.

Your fellow lionesses watched the two of you dance around each other during each camp and training session after that, everyone finding it hard to believe that you were both unaware of how the other felt. Some of them found it endearing watching the two of you stumble over your words and others found it hard to watch, wanting the two of you to hurry up and say something.

It wasn’t until a December camp that some of the younger players on the team had come up with a plan to get the two of you to talk. It was Georgia’s idea to hang mistletoe over the doorway to the room she shared with Alessia. It was after training that the team’s plan would be set in motion.

Georgia had texted you asking you to come to her room to ask you about the upcoming game. You didnt think anything of it as you knocked on the hotel door. You couldn't hear the conversation happening inside but Georgia refused to answer the door forcing Alessia to get up to see who was knocking.

You and Alessia stood in silence, a slight blush making its way across both of your faces. Neither of noticed the plant hanging above your heads nor did you notice Gerogia approaching from inside the hotel room.

“The two of you are standin’ under mistletoe, y’know?” the midfielder said as she quickly brushed passed both of you, making her way to the room across the hall that Ella and Chloe were staying in.

Both you and Alessia quickly looked up, eyes locked on the green plant that was messily taped to the top door frame. The blush on your faces grew a darker shade of red as you both locked eyes with each other once again.

“I don’t think we actually have to kiss. Georgia’s probably just messing around.” you tried to laugh, feeling extremely nervous under the blonde’s watchful eye.

“Yeah, probably,” the blonde mumbled, trying to not seem upset that you didn’t want to kiss her.

The two of you stayed standing at the door in silence, neither knowing what to say. You went to open your mouth to tell Alessia to forget this ever happened when the door across the hall opened and Ella stuck her head out.

“Just kiss her, you idiot!” the Man United player shouted, her statement aimed towards you mostly but Alessia felt more impacted by it. When you turned back around to face her, her hands were on your cheeks, pulling you in closer to her.

“Is this okay?” the striker hesitated, wanting to give you time to pull away if you wanted to,

All you did was nod. Alessia smiled before closing the distance between you. Your lips moved softly against each other, not wanting to go any further, especially knowing your teammates were most likely trying to get a peek out of the peephole.

Alessia pulled away first, resting her forehead against yours. Both of you had large smiles across your face, thankful to your teammates for giving the push you both needed.

“After camp is over, I’d really like to take you on a date.” the blonde cooed, pulling her head away from yours.

“I’d like that, Less,” you responded, a buzzing feeling of excitement and happiness in your stomach.

Alessia leaned in for one more quick kiss before reaching up to pull the mistletoe from the door. The two of you spent the rest of the night confessing your feelings for each other in whispers, too engrossed with each other to care about anything else.

#woso x reader #woso #awfc x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #engwnt x reader

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