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wayward-persephone · 2 years

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Ok, Ethan characters and breeding kink and / or their personal fave kink pls?

I love writing for these 🥴

The Grabber/Albert Shaw

Primal Play. He's definitely into the power imbalance between you two and he gets a total head rush after chasing you down. He always ends up catching you, no matter how fast or far you run, and he falls on you like a wild animal. There has been plenty of time where he's taken you on the ground immediately after catching you. Keeping you on your hands and knees while he mounts you from behind. If he catches you somewhere that won't conceal him fucking your brains out then he'll simply haul you into the back of his van and fuck you there. Either way, with his adrenaline pumping after a good chase, he's going to spend the next few hours enjoying his spoils.

Arthur Harrow

Would totally be into Body Worship. Would love to have you spread out underneath him, all soft and pliant, and would spend hours if he could kissing and licking and nibbling every inch of you. Would whisper words of praise and adoration against your skin the entire time. He would give you as many orgasms as he dims fit, eating you out like a man enjoying his last meal, and you are often left completely boneless and slightly incoherent afterwards.

Edward Dalton

Blood play (obviously 🥴) would purposely nick you or bite just hard enough to draw a little blood and the added taste and warmth of your blood in his mouth makes him almost feral. Anytime he gets a chance to taste you will inevitably end up with him fucking you. His eyes practically glowing and his fangs bared as he takes you, one hand on your throat to feel your fluttering pulse, and you absolutely have trouble walking the next day.

Troy Dyer

Dirty Talk is his immediate go-to. He likes getting a rise out of you, enjoys seeing you get flustered, and loves how you whimper and whine for him when he murmurs in your ear while rolling his hips slow and deep into you. He wants to look you in the eyes while he talks and what makes his words so impactful is that he means every single one. He's not one to willing offer up compliments, prefers showing you how he feels instead, but this is the one time he allows himself to be vulnerable. Of course, he also uses it to tease you. Especially if you two are out in public.

Goodnight Robicheaux

Praise Kink. This man has so many demons in his head that he's constantly trying to drown out. He feels like a horrible human for all the death he's caused so you use your intimate moments to shower him with love and affection. Telling him how good he feels inside you, how his kisses are like an aphrodisiac, and how his touch makes your blood heat in your veins. Once you start this, he would absolutely urge you to keep talking during sex, and you stammer and moan through your words as he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars

Ellison Oswalt

Cock Warming. Loves having you sitting underneath his desk, your mouth wrapped around his cock, while he works. Whenever he's stuck or gets too aroused he will lean back and grip the back of your neck while he fucks into your mouth until he's satisfied enough to continue working. Even if he spills down your throat he would grunt and murmur soft words until you swallow it all and then he makes you continue to warm him. Same goes for you warming him with your pussy. Usually it's when you two are lounging around and he just simply unbuckles his jeans or pull down his sweatpants and guide your body over his until he's buried inside you to the hilt.

King Aurvandil War-Raven

Exhibition/Public sex. Loves showing you off, loves showing you off to his people knowing they can't touch you, and loves for his people to know how good you are for him. He will sit in front of his people during a celebration, probably after a good raid or fresh from a journey, and will have you on his lap bouncing on his cock. He probably let's you keep some clothes on, not wanting everybody to see you completely exposed, and would growl and groan his pleasure loud enough to hear over the booming laughter and cheers of his men partying.

James Sandin

Lingerie/Dress Up. He would absolutely adore showering you with gifts and would especially love to see you in a pretty lacy lingerie set he bought for you. He loves the contrast between the soft silk and your skin, would want you to model every single piece for him, and will go wild if you surprise him with a new set. He just loves spoiling you and gets off on it too.

Russell Millings

Breeding/Cuddlefucking. This man is so touch-starved and pent up that it's borderline painful to witness. He absolutely lives for any type of skin contact and loves when your cuddling turns into something less innocent. He's becomes almost desperate for your touch and would often pin your body against his while he chases his pleasure inside your body. His desire to fill you to the brim and breed you slips out by accident, so lost in euphoria that he just started babbling, but the sudden intense orgasm from you both quickly eased any worries he had.

Travis Conrad

Quickies. He absolutely loves quickies and has a mental list of all the places he's dragged you to for a quick fuck. Like the bathroom of your favorite diner or in the alley beside the local bar or even in his car parked behind the grocery store. He has a very active libido and his quick refractory period leaves you in awe most times. So he's always raring to go and can immediately tell by the glint in his eyes that you are about to be squished in the nearest closet/bathroom stall as he drills into you at a brutal pace that leaves you both breathless and high on endorphins.

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absolutemag7trash · 1 month

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*please note, I’m posting this one last in hopes it’ll be seen first. I also did polls for the original 1960s movies as well as Seven Samurai. If you haven’t seen them and don’t want spoilers, ignore them

#mag7 #magnificent seven #the magnificent seven #joshua faraday #goodnight robicheaux #billy rocks #jack horne #I don’t have anything to say this time I wish they all would have lived #polls

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sconfittoleone · 11 months

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#the magnificent seven #the magnificent 7 #mag7 #goodnight robicheaux #billy rocks #joshua faraday #vasquez #sam chisolm #red harvest #jack horne #ethan hawke #chris pratt

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make-me-imagine · 1 year

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Headcanons: Taking care of each other when you're sick (Goodnight Robicheaux)

Pairing: Goodnight Robicheaux x Gn!Reader

Requested By: @starlit-epiphany A/n: You only requested taking care of Goodnight when he is sick, but I thought I'd add the other way around as well, since it would be way too short otherwise

Taking Care of Him:

Goodnight likes to relax, but he HATES being sick.

So when he has to stay in bed, he get's restless, especially if he is alone.

Constantly wanting you to stay in the room with him so he can talk to you or play cards.

If he can't talk then you read to him, just to keep his mind busy.

If he is very sick, fever and all, you don't need him to ask you to stay with him.

You will have a cool wet rag that you often wipe his brow with.

You bring him medicine and food.

No matter how bad he feels, it does not stop him from flirting with you, or complimenting and thanking you for taking care of him.

He wakes up to see you leaning over him, dabbing his brow.

"Have I died and gone to heaven?"

"Shut up and eat your soup."

You taking care of him makes him incredibly grateful, and resembles the closest thing to a domestic life he can get. Which he loves the idea of, especially with you.

You bring fresh flowers into the room every few days and he can't help but smile at you, eyes full of love and admiration.

Sometimes, only sometimes, he may act sick for a few days longer just because he loves seeing you care so much for him (and he wants an excuse to stay at home with you)

Taking Care of You:

Goodnight relishes in the idea of you being dependent on him.

Not in a toxic way of course, but in a "I get to tease, and take care of the love of my life" kind of way.

He is very good at cooking food around a campfire in the middle of no where, but a bit clueless in an actual kitchen.

So the soup you get is either tasteless, or way too salty.

But you appreciate the gesture, and eat it all, knowing that it was made with all the love in the world.

Goodnight also lies that he gets to pay you back for the times when you took care of him, either when he was injured or sick.

He will gently wash your head and neck if you are sweating from a fever.

If you have loner hair, he will brush and braid it for you, keeping out of your face.

He will sit by your bedside the whole time, reading to you, talking you stories or singing you songs.

Goodnight will also bring you flowers and pastries from the local shop to cheer you up.

When you get better, he still act's a bit protective, and doesn't let you overdo it, in case you might fall sick again.

Sorry it's so short, but I hope you like it :)

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Mag7 Taglist: @spuffyfan394

#goodnight robicheaux #magnificent seven #mag7 #goodnight robicheaux imagine #goodnight robicheaux/reader #goodnight robicheaux x reader #goodnight robicheaux headcanons #magnificent seven x reader #magnificent seven/reader #magnificent seven imagine #mag7 imagine #magnificent seven headcanons #ethan hawke imagine #ethan hawke headcanons #headcanons #whump headcanons

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daddy-issues-99 · 1 year

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Goodnight Robicheaux x f!reader smut

"CouNtRy bOY I lOvE YoUu"

Just a quick oneshot for my lovely Ethan Hawke simps

This is not how you'd thought you'd be spending your night. Maybe take a relaxing ride on your horse but no, instead you were riding a cowboy.

Nothing but loud moans and unholy sounds could be heard from your barn, not the most romantic setting but you didn't care. This was to good to wait.

Goodnight sat on an old crate, legs spread while you sat on his lap bouncing on his cock.

You moaned as you continued riding his cock, hitting your sweet spot every time. Your hands were gripping his shoulders trying to steady yourself. You were on cloud nine and so was he.

"Oh Goodnight~" "Your doing amazing sweetheart" he said gripping your hips so hard his nails left an imprint in your flesh.

You smashed your lips onto his hungerly and he slid his tongue into your mouth hitting your teeth on his. This was nothing gentle, just pure need and lust.

You bit down on his bottom lip causing him to quickly slap your ass, letting a breathy moan out from the surprise contact.

"Such a pretty noise" he slapped your ass again "Don't stop."

He moved from your lips to your neck leaving marks all the way down and biting you hard enough to let a small droplet of blood run down your neck which he quickly licked up.

The feeling of his tongue was enough to make you come undone. He rutted his hips up making a slap noise against your ass. "Goodnight-" "You like that sweetheart, you like me being rough with you?" He asked slapping you ass hard.

"Yes-Yes I love it!" You said practically screaming from pleasure.

He grabbed your neck bringing you into a sloppy, needy kiss that was almost all tongue. He always tasted like whisky and it always left you wanting another taste.

You were close and you could tell he was too by the way he kept rutting his hips hitting your cervix every thrust.

"Goodnight I-I'm close" you said between moans. "Almost there angel." He said as he continued to ruthlessly thrust up into you.

You entangle your hands in his short hair and around his neck gripping tightly as that familiar knot formed I your stomach.

After a few more thrusts you came screaming his name and digging your nails into his neck so hard it left a mark.

He continued thrusting letting the two of you ride your high giving one last, long kiss.

You rested your forehead against his both catching your breath as sweat rolled down you.

"You enjoy yourself beautiful?" He asked with a smirk, you swatted his shoulder letting out a dry laugh "Yes I did Mr. Robicheaux." You said playing with the collar of his now ruined shirt.

He quickly kissed you on the nose and lifted you gently off of his cock. He quickly scooped you up bridal style catching you by surprise "How could you still have energy?" You asked giggling.

"Your so damn pretty, how could I not have energy after seein' you?"

He carried you out of the barn and into your house, holding you close to his chest. He still smelled good, like a mix of mint and sweat.

He carried you into your bedroom and gently placed you down on the bed. His hand lingered and traced it's way up your jaw and to your chin, lifting your head up to look at him.

"What?" You said. "Nothing, can't I just look at my beautiful girl?" He said with a genuine smile, not the sarcastic one like usual, but a genuine, loving smile. It made your heart flutter.

He left the room and brought back a damp rag and gently cleaned you up taking in the shape of your body once more.

He threw the rag into the hallway and gave you a nightgown that was draped over your bed frame.

"Such a gentleman" you said laying back on the bed with your arms spread out over your head.

"Ya know, it's getting late, it be a shame if you had to ride all the way to town." You said patting the spot next to you. He sighed and with a tired smile. He took of his clothes leaving him in just his boxers and plopped down next to you.

You roles over and curled up next to him inhaling his scent a final time. "Buenos Noches Goodnight" "Goodnight sweetheart"

#goodnight robicheaux #the magnificent seven x reader #ethan hawke #goodnight robicheaux x reader #smut #ethan hawke x reader

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oliversexireed77 · 8 months

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#ethan hawke #he’s so 😩😩😩#the magnificent 7 #goodnight robicheaux

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heliads · 9 months

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Hi, same anon who asked before! Can I please request Goody with a female reader who’s secretly a witch and a member of the seven and he finds out when she uses magic during a fight and takes out like ten guys at once? Thanks so much ❤️❤️

this is incredible. magnificent seven fans we must find each other

masterlist

Witches are not real. We love stories, all of us, tall tales and fables and legends too, but they’re not real. No matter how many times your older cousins whisper things to you under the cover of nightfall, terrible, twisted imaginings about elderly crones with raven familiars or eternally youthful enchantresses compelled to grind the bones of wrongdoers, we know they are not real. The glow of the firelight makes you think they could be real, but they are, at the end of the day, just stories. Stories, and nothing more.

Witches are real, because you are. There is no telling how it happened, what combination of full moons and thirteenth Fridays, black cats and broken mirrors, all manifested to make you what you are. We are a product of what we need. Perhaps your family needed the protection that a normal daughter could not bring. Perhaps they just deserved the curse of you. No one can tell for sure.

You grew up in a small town, same as everyone else’s but wonderfully original, too. The lanterns that swayed when a cold wind blew in were a particular shade of muted gold known only to you, the floors creak in a tune that no one else would hear quite like you did. Backcountry village dwellers know the clopping of new hoofs, the signal of a newcomer, and they know how the sun beats down on your back after a long day of work, but they’ll never know your particular shade of it.

It was a quiet upbringing, for the most part. Your mother raised you right, and turned a blind eye when you took to foraging in the woods for plants and stones she did not recognize. She wasn’t too pleased about the whole affair at first, but then one of the younger boys across the street broke her favorite ceramic jug, the one her mother had made. You fixed it with a few muttered words and a twist of your wrist, and after that your specific brand of devilry was allowed in the house so long as no one else saw it.

No child likes to hide away forever, though, not when they feel there’s nothing about them unduly wrong. Perhaps the devil himself had chosen to make you a little more than human, or perhaps the angels lingered too long over your cradle when you were a baby, but regardless of the source, you were still you, still good, and you didn’t see why that warranted the need to forever live in shame and fear of discovery.

You came close one night. You were old enough to outgrow your mother but too young to match her wisdom. In an attempt to help your family, you were almost discovered while trying to turn the smallish squirrel one of your brothers caught into something better, something that could feed all of you. One of the neighbors had decided to do a little poking around at the time you were spellcasting, and that little glimpse could have cost you everything.

They never saw anything outright suspicious, but it was too close, and the prospect of a witch hunt wouldn’t do you any good out here when no one would speak up for you. People don’t like girls with mouths to run. No one would defend such a witch from the flame.

If the town will not protect the girl, then the girl will protect herself. You ran far away, far enough away that no one had heard your name and certainly didn’t care to listen to it. You find work here and there, never quite enough pay to make you settle in one place but enough to keep you alive. You pass from village to village, city to city, and somehow along the way, you find a little place called Rose Creek.

It’s not a marvel by any means. This is a town. You have seen many of its kind before, countless iterations of the same style of brick and mortar and abandoned hopes for better things. The faces are new, the people down on different kinds of luck, but it’s largely the same as always. You were planning on repeating your usual schedule of sticking around for a few months before hitting the road again lest someone discover you, but then you hear about the situation they’ve got going on and you decide otherwise.

A man named Sam Chisholm is putting together a plan to release Rose Creek from some kind of mining tycoon. He’s asking for every able hand to pitch in, something you hear about when you ride in later that night. Over time, you’ve had to learn how to defend yourself from a great many sharp-eyed bullies who’ve found you out, so your marksmanship is as good as any hired gun.

You find Sam’s main group sitting around a table at a nearby saloon and decide to offer up your services. Doing good makes you feel better, eases the heavy burden that always seems to press against your ribs after too many long nights. When you have gifts like yours and you don’t use them to help, it’s as good as aiding the enemy.

The men take your offer about as expected. One of them, a cocky hotshot you later learn is called Faraday, actually starts laughing. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he chokes out between guffaws, “I don’t think you’re made for the front lines. Maybe you can help get the rest of the women and children to safety, though?”

You arch a brow. The rest of the group has the decency to shake their heads and look away, avoiding eye contact. “Alright,” you tell him coolly, “Just to ease my temper, though, would y’want to engage in a bit of a shooting contest? Since we’re so far from the front lines now, I’m sure I’ll survive somehow.”

Faraday grins and agrees to your challenge in a heartbeat, smirking over at his friends like he isn’t stressed about losing in the slightest. One of the men looks like he might have to disagree with Faraday’s bravado, though. He’s a little older than the man rolling his eyes as he heads out to the targets outside the saloon, and looks at you with a smile you’re pretty sure is with you instead of just at your expense.

This second man chuckles a little to himself, takes a swallow of the drink in front of him, and tells you to make Faraday wager on the contest, just so your opponent can embarrass himself a little more. You laugh at that, raising your hand in mock salute before joining Faraday outside the saloon. The rules of the shooting contest are agreed upon; three targets from increasingly far distances, closest to the center wins.

Five rounds later, Faraday’s swears increase in volume as he loses progressively more money, and you’re sitting at Sam Chisholm’s table, discussing the group’s plan to rid Rose Creek of its rather oppressive hosts. You learn the names and attitudes of all those at the table, including the one who’d known you’d win from the start.

Goodnight Robicheaux is not what you’d expected of him. You’ve heard stories of an ex-soldier with a gift for bloodthirst, as the so-called Angel of Death is a tale that’s spread far and wide even without Goodnight’s input, but you hadn’t expected the actual man behind the myth to be quite like him. Goody’s nice, a decent man and a better shot, but you wouldn’t connect the name with the body unless someone told you. Goodnight doesn’t like showing off with a gun.

In fact, he doesn’t like touching a weapon at all. You can tell that it’s starting to rankle Faraday and the rest of the men from Rose Creek who’ve agreed to help out– here you have a legend of the war, and he won’t even look at a gun– but Goodnight steadfastly refuses to give in to their not so silent pressure. He offers advice and has promised to help liberate the town, but he will not become the man of such fear and admiration.

You have to respect it. Although you haven’t asked Goody why he won’t shoot a round with the rest, you can guess as to why. Death doesn’t come easy to everyone. This man is a soldier. Was a soldier. He knows what it is to hate what you are. You can understand that better than anyone.

Maybe that’s why the two of you have gotten along so well. You talk when you want to, swap stories when you wish it, but when the nights get long and neither of you can sleep for memories both of you want to hide, you can find him pacing the streets of the town, and you know that you are not alone. Sometimes you walk for miles in the silence, and you have never felt more secure.

The day of the attack sneaks up on you. Bogue’s men show up on the horizon, too many, too strong, but Rose Creek won’t waver and neither will you. You all have your places to be so this mad plan can be orchestrated, so when the sun starts to flood across the sky, you hurry to your station, ready your gun, and prepare your mind to die.

You swore to yourself that you would not use magic during this fight. You don’t need your spells, not really; you’ve long since learned that it’s safer to use a gun to fight off attackers, so you trust your aim in cases like this. The benefit of magic, though, is its strength. Picking off enemy fighters one by one with a gun is nothing compared to how simple it would be to pull up energy from the ground and condemn a dozen men to their graves in the span of half a second.

You can feel it gnawing at you throughout the fight, the knowledge of how easy it would be to end it all. Is it not a sort of betrayal to your friends, to have the capacity to save them all the faster but refuse to use it? You are helping them with your guns right now, but could it ever be enough?

You will not use your spells. You cannot. You should not. Bogue’s men seem to pour out of every cavity in every wall, a thousand rats in a plague upon your friends. If this is your last stand, so be it. It is a good thing to die for a good cause. Better when you’ve spent your whole life running in the hopes of finding something like it.

There is one thing you cannot accept, however, and that is the death of someone you care about. It is one thing to rationalize your own self-sacrifice, but when you look across the battlefield and realize that the bullets of a Gatling gun are about to speed across town and wreck the very church steeple in which Goodnight and Billy are stationed in, the shock and fear of it cuts you like a blade to the heart.

There is no time, none at all. The trigger has already been pulled. There is nothing any man could do to save them, not up there. You will have the perfect view as they fall from all the way up there. And you look up at him, up on the steeple, and you know that he is not coming down. Not unless you do something. Not unless you do it now.

Nothing no man could do. You are no regular man. It is the easiest thing in the world to think of what you wish. The magic responds instantly, tugging away from your fingers and into the earth. It’s like it’s been waiting this whole time, begging to be used. Clouds of dust rise up from the streets, forming a perfect circle around the church. Then, in a flash, they move out, blocking everything in their path. The bullets ricochet off, finding new targets in the sides of buildings and even enemy soldiers. You count a dozen downed fighters, maybe more than that, all having previously aimed to kill your friends. All dead now.

The Gatling gun goes silent. All is quiet for a moment. You see silhouettes shifting up in the church steeple, and even from this distance, you recognize Goody when he stands and stares at you. Your hands are raised. No one else had been focused on the steeple except for you. There is no proof that you could do something like that, but he does not need proof to explain what he feels, what he knows right now.

We do not ask questions when impossible things happen. Not when they are good. When a bullet that should have struck you right between your eyes somehow curves and misses you mid flight, you praise the Lord instead of asking why. When you swear you caught two fish but there are four flopping there on the bank the next time you blink, you only admire the fine meal you have before you. They could have known you were a witch, all of them. Odds are they did. You don’t ask, though. None of us do.

Goodnight asks. He waits until the battle is over, until it is won, until the only danger comes from him knowing and you not being able to tell how he will react. He times it so you almost think you’ll get away without him putting two and two together, and then he turns to you, muffled by the din of victorious conversation, and asks, “It was you that saved us, wasn’t it?”

You shrug, looking away with a pointed determination. “I’d say that’s a pretty strong compliment. We all helped as much as we could, you know. Saying that I specifically saved you ignores the rest.”

Goody shakes his head. “You know what I’m talking about. Bullets can’t bounce off of thin air. Unless, of course, someone makes them.”

Your fingers are perfectly still on the table in front of you. “I don’t know how that would happen.”

“Neither do I,” Goody says quietly, “And I’ve decided that it’s not important to me that I do know. What’s important to me is that whoever saved us risked their life to do so. Secrets like that can be deadly. If you ever find out who diverted those bullets, I’d like you to thank them for me.”

You risk a glance his way. Goodnight’s looking fondly at his friends gathered on the other side of the table– a round of cards has started up already, even though the only deck they have has been riddled severely by bullet holes– but that smile, that smile is for you. You know it. He does too.

“It might have been me,” you whisper.

He looks over at you at last. “I’m glad it was,” he tells you. “I’m glad it was you.”

magnificent seven tag list: empty for now, feel free to ask to be added!

bonus tag for @starlit-epiphany bc its your man!! and there are other people than us still in this fandom!!

#goodnight robicheaux #goodnight robicheaux imagines #goodnight robicheaux x reader #goodnight robicheaux oneshot #magnificent seven #magnificent seven imagines #magnificent seven x reader #magnificent seven oneshot #magnificent seven goodnight #magnificent seven goodnight imagines #magnificent seven goodnight x reader #magnificent seven goodnight oneshot

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ethanhoewke · 2 years

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thesunwillart · 1 year

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they’re just dreams, goody...

#back in my cowboy era #the magnificent seven #goodrocks #goodnight robicheaux #billy rocks #mag7 #THEYVE STILL GOT ME GOOD #my art

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northstarfan · 2 months

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Please tell me about M7: Mr Sunshine? And, if I can have two, Respectability?

"Mr. Sunshine" was an AU based on, predictably, the Mr. Sunshine miniseries from Netflix, starring Lee Byung-Hun. The premise was that a chance meeting between Eugene, Goody, and Billy after Eugene got to the US made Billy suspect that Eugene is the son of his half-sister, who'd been sent away as a slave when he was little. So Eugene spent his upbringing in the American West before joining the army and returning to Korea as opposed the east coast.

Billy Rocks loves New York. He’ll never tell Goodnight, of course; he expects his adoration for the city isn’t half as strong as Goodnight’s loathing for it. In fairness, Billy shares some of his distaste for the noise and crowds. But the permanence of the place settles him. It looks like a proper city, a place meant to endure, and a welcome contrast to their lives out West, where towns spring up in a season and die off almost as quickly.

"Respectability" is an Everybody Lives AU in the same timeline as "Impossible." It follows Billy and Goody becoming the proprietors of The Elysium after Gavin's death. 😁

“I need Billy for deputy…” Faraday notes the hard-edged glare he’s getting from both men and quickly amends, addressing himself to Billy instead. “Look, I need you, Rocks. Teddy’s willing, but intimidation is well outside his realm of talent.”

“No chance.” Billy tests the nail, then hangs the larger of the two landscapes to cover stains that were once the blood and brains of Bogue’s hired men.

“Well, there you have it, Joshua.” Goodnight goes back to the ledgers. “We’re aiming to be respectable business owners. We can’t be seen brawling with drunkards in the streets.”

“You’re getting ready to reopen the town whorehouse! How in the hell is that less respectable than being my deputy?”

#goodnight robicheaux #billy rocks #goodrocks #the magnificent seven (2016)

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wayward-persephone · 2 years

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This might be oddly specific but it was a thot that came to mind:

Which characters do you think would try to hide their growing bulge and which do you think wouldn’t? Like I feel as if some of them would WANT you to see what you do to them, and get you all embarrassed, while others would be horrified that they’re hard in front of you.

Well it's a good thing that I like oddly specific stuff 😉

Who Wouldn't Hide:

The Grabber/Albert Shaw - This man has no ounce of shame and would proudly show off that you got him hard. And then he would want you to immediately take care of it for him.

Troy Dyer - Loves to get you flustered, loves to get you all embarrassed while he teases you, and he would even go so far as to put your hand in his pants to let you feel just exactly what you do to him. He has no shame when it comes to teasing you.

King Aurvandil - Not only will he show off that he's hard, but he will occasionally openly fuck you in the open public if the mood strikes him. He loves to show off when you get him hard, will grind against you while growling into your ear, and he doesn't care who is there to see.

Travis Conrad - He doesn't really care where you two are at, if he gets hard then he's going to be pulling you close so you can feel him, and then he's going to be nuzzling and kissing you and whispering in your ear until next thing you know you're in the bathroom/storage closet getting wrecked.

James Costa - He likes showing you what you do to him, just like he enjoys sliding his hands between your thighs to feel what he does to you, and will be very vocal about how much he wants you. Most of the time he will just leave your hand there, idly reaching down to grind your hand against him, but will make you keep your hand placed over him until he's ready to take you somewhere private enough to fuck you.

Chet Baker - Has no shame and will either put your hands on him or shamelessly grind against you while murmuring softly in your ear all the stuff he wants to do to you. Will flirt and tease you until you are nearly clawing at him to get him inside you much to his delight.

Tucker Crowe - He's extremely handsy so the second he gets hard you will know about it. He's winking at you from across the room, nipping at your ear and nuzzling at the sensitive spot on your throat once you get close enough, and whispering in your ear all the dirty filthy things that goes through his head.

Everett Lewis - He just doesn't really care much to hide it. If he gets hard then he gets hard. If you don't want to see it then don't look is what he thinks about it. However he will adjust himself if he's in public, but that is a rare occurrence.

Lars Nystrom - Oh, he totally wants you to look. Almost dares you to look with a playful smile and bright cheerful eyes. He loves to get you flustered and embarrassed, makes him feel good, and he is quick about dragging you close and cheekily asking you to help him with his new problem.

Who Would:

Arthur Harrow - He is a gentleman so he would definitely hide his erection. However, if you two are alone and you get him hard, then he would be a bit more likely to show you. But usually he would hide it.

Edward Dalton - He is still getting used to having you there with him so he would be a bit embarrassed about getting hard near you. Would try to act nonchalant and discreetly adjust himself while you're distracted.

Goodnight Robicheaux - He is a southern gentleman. He will definitely hide his bulge from you, but will still whisper teasing flirty comments in your ear and send winks your way until you're dragging him away somewhere private.

Ellison Oswalt - Would hide it from you in public, but would absolutely show it off in the privacy of your home. Shamelessly grinding against you in the kitchen while you're trying to cook dinner while murmuring in your ear how hard he is for you, but usually just giving you bedroom eyes at a restaurant that will leave you a flustered mess.

James Sandin - He is a businessman who relies on his appearance and reputation so he keeps himself under control. However on the occasion where he does get hard for you, especially in public, he quickly hides it or excuses himself to the bathroom to adjust himself. Once home he will then happily tell you what happened.

Russell Millings - Would be mortified if he got hard in front of you. Enough where he would probably try to hide in the bathroom from the embarrassment.

Sal Procida - He's a detective so he has a certain image that he has to uphold so he would just casually adjust himself. Of course he would make sure to keep eye contact with you the entire time just so you would know what he's doing and then throw a sassy wink your way for good measure.

Ernst Toller - Would absolutely be horrified the second he feels himself getting hard. Would begrudgingly jerk off when the need got too great, then drink until he got tipsy, and then spiral as he prayed for forgiveness as he continued to masturbate while thinking of you.

Paul - He would hide out of respect for you. Wouldn't want to seem forward or like he's trying to make a pass at you (even if you are already together). It just boils down to his respect for you.

John Brown - Will so try to hide himself. Even if you are in a relationship and you tell him he doesn't have to hide he will still fluff his coat over his lap or excuse himself. Or even read the bible out loud or go on a long sermon that lasts until he forgets that he was hard in the first place.

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