#i want to hold him like a squeaky toy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkbybambi · 7 months

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⚜️ pornstar!ghost who's so, so in love with you —

words: 3.8k tags: smut, creampie, pet names (good girl, love, darling, etc), throat holding, no use of y/n, fem!reader, ghost and reader are so in love with each other, biting/marking, mentions of sex work. notes: inspired by @ghosts-cyphera 's pornstar!ghost. thank you so, so much for creating him and for letting me bite him and chew him like a squeaky toy. please read the original here and give it lots of love! here is the playlist i made while writing — a mixture of soft and sweet and filthy and everything in between. minors dni, my blog is 18+.

in the muffled quiet of the bathroom, you take a deep breath. your heart beats in time with the rhythmic thumping of the bass that reverberates throughout the flat. that same steady beat of edm songs has been on repeat since you arrived at the party, and your blood hums with the vibrations. you love parties; the drinks, the snacks, the absolute unhinged bullshit that can only be achieved by those in front and behind the camera.

you’re surprised there hasn’t been a noise complaint.

you slip from the bathroom, perhaps just a little tipsy, the warmth of the drinks and the atmosphere thread through your blood like fire, the colored flashing lights casting everything in a multi-colored glow. you move through the crowd to find the one person who means more than the entire world and —

he’s sitting on the couch, pretending to listen to one of the newer talents; she’s a touch too close, fingers reaching out to graze his forearm. he doesn’t even blink twice before he’s pulling his arm away, pretending to adjust his watch as his eyes sweep the room.

as soon as his gaze lands on you, he straightens up, leaning forward in anticipation. the other girl looks put off but neither of you pay her any mind as you make your way to him, crawling onto the couch where he’s (been) waiting for you.

you nestle into his side, taking the red, plastic cup you trusted him with when you went to the bathroom. you take a small sip.

“this isn’t my drink,” you tell him.

“you’re right.”

you pout at him, eyes glittering with the lights.

he looks at you expectedly, pointedly looking at the cup and giving you that look. the one he gives you whenever he wants you to do something, and you always listen.

you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out at him, before dutifully drinking the water that he’s so graciously filled your cup with instead of whatever fruity and far-too-strong cocktail the host had conjured up. he snorts, rolling his eyes fondly as he slings an arm across the back of the couch.

when half the cup is gone, you look back at him, doe-eyes big and glassy, the need for praise and approval simmering under the surface. even in the low light of the room, you see how his eyes soften as he takes you in. his hand comes up to cup your face, cradling it. you close your eyes, nuzzling into his palm as you enjoy the moment of calm. as his thumb gently wipes under your eye, your eyes flutter back open to focus on him, and he tilts his head as he assesses you.

this moment is just for you two. even in a room full of people, you’re unable to focus on anything but him.

he glances at his wrist to check his watch — the one you gave him for his birthday last year and the one that’s been on his wrist ever since, not even taking it off to film unless absolutely necessary.

(and if he got you a bracelet that matched his watch as close as possible for your birthday? neither of you mention it, but you know.)

ghost’s never been one for social niceties —preferring to keep to himself — and you know you haven’t been here too terribly long, only one drink deep, but both of you have a rare day off together and he’d rather be alone with you for as long as possible than at this last minute thrown together “party” by a few colleagues.

he leans in close to graze his covered mouth against your jaw — he never takes off the skull mask, except when he’s alone with you.

("it's part of my charm," he claims, grin stretching across his lips, getting ready for his first shoot of the day. you bite back an amused smile, sitting in front of him and fussing until he sits still so you can paint on his eye black.)

“i think it’s time i took you home, princess.”

and christ, his voice.

it's well known you’re closer than most, so it’s not terribly surprising when you arrive and leave together and generally stick to each other like glue.

you press your lips right against the sensitive skin behind his ear, brushing against the fabric, voice masked by the music but still keeping it low enough so only he hears.

“then take me home, simon.”

his eyes flash dangerously, taking your cup and abandoning it on the coffee table. his large hand dwarfs your own as he drags you off the couch.

you didn’t say hello to anyone in particular when you arrived and you don’t stop to let anyone know you're leaving. you’re too focused on his thumb running across the ridge of your knuckles, the way he laces your fingers together, how you two fit so well together.

if there was a red string tied to your pinky, you know it would lead you right to him.

the ride back to your flat is spent with his hand on your thigh, hot and possessive like a brand.

there's something different about tonight. ghost's touch lingers, as if he doesn't want to be without you for even a second, and you're drawn to him like a moth to flame, helpless to do anything but get as close as you can, hoping you won't burn and turn to ash.

you know exactly where the night is leading when he pulls you to your bedroom, the soft glow of your bedside lamp casting everything in a halo of warm, dim light.

ghost turns to you, hands on your hips, pulling you closer. you fingers tease the edge of his mask, hooking under the familiar fabric and starting to drag up. you pause as his lips come to view, watching him carefully.

glassy eyes meet yours and you forget to breathe for a moment. you want to capture the warmth swirling in his eyes, keep it close on the days that are dark and dreary, on the days that only he makes better.

you pull the rest of the covering off, his hair slightly ruffled, haloed by the light.

a delicate smile graces your lips, reaching a hand up to run your fingers along his jaw — a motion so familiar, a motion repeated in front of cameras and bright lights and others watching. he's sharp lines and features carved from marble but he's so soft, a comfort you can't name when you're with him.

he looks like an angel, heaven-sent.

"whatcha you thinkin', pretty girl?" he asks, voice low, accent thick, capturing your wandering fingers and pressing a kiss to your inner wrist, right beneath your bracelet.

you don't say anything, continuing to admire him, biting your lip. you're afraid to speak. afraid to give a name to these emotions that have settled into your bones and blood, seared into you.

for now, you keep those words locked in your heart, protected by ribs and flesh and walls that he so carefully picks apart with his teeth and tongue and fingers.

you shake your head instead of answering him, a gentle smile gracing your lips, threading your fingers through his hair. it's fluffy and a bit on the long side. he showered as soon as he was off work. he never wants others lingering on his skin.

you tip up on your toes enough to capture his lips with yours, biting at his bottom lip.

he presses you up against the wall, mouth hot and wet on yours. he licks deep into your mouth, fingers lacing in your hair. you grip the front of his shirt, mewling into his mouth as he kisses you like he'll never get to again.

some of your lipstick is smeared on his lips when he pulls away, eyes black. you shiver under his stare.

you press a tantalizing kiss to his jaw, teeth nipping.

"want to film it?" a mischievous smile paints your lips, hands raking lower to hook into the hem of his shirt.

both you and ghost have quite a collection of videos and pictures of you two, hidden behind locked albums and passwords. it's a testament of trust — one that's been carefully built and protected, tucked away where only you two know.

"not this time," he replies, voice soft, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. he cups your jaw gently, wiping away smudged mascara. "this is just for you n' me."

you swallow thickly, choking down words threatening to spill from you. the temptation to say something lingers on your tongue, pressing behind your teeth, daring you to take a bite.

the kiss you press to his lips is far softer than anything, heat just below the surface.

ghost doesn't make a habit of kissing those he's filming with. a bite or two, something more vicious and rough — but with you? sometimes he'll kiss you like you're glass, afraid of marring you, breaking you. other times, it's all heat and liquid fire, consuming you and all you think about for days after.

he'd wake up every day kissing you if he could.

your clothes are a mess on the floor, not that you particularly care right now.

not with the way ghost is pressing his weight down on you so deliciously, hot and heavy, devouring you. he cages you between his thick forearms, barely giving you room to breathe, biting and nipping and licking deep into your mouth until your lips are shiny and swollen, pupils blown so wide, they're practically black.

"wish i could be the only one to see you like this," he pants against the hinge of your jaw, dragging teeth and tongue down your body.

the urge to bite and bruise and mark clouds his mind, wanting nothing more than to bury his teeth into the supple flesh of your thigh, until the imprint of his teeth lasts for days.

surprisingly soft hands part your thighs, baring your glistening desire to his burning gaze.

but that's not what he's looking at.

he's unable to look away from the temporary tattoo that's fading on your skin. it's been washed away from your time on set — spit and water and release coating your skin — but it's unmistakable.

a ghost.

"what's this?" he asks, thumb stroking over the faded lines of the tattoo, breathless.

you rise up on your elbows, desire thick through your veins. you don't have to look to know what he's asking about. but you look anyways, mesmerized by his thumb grazing over your skin.

"the girls and i had some on set," you begin, voice soft. "we were filming in a bath so we figured why not, y'know?"

he looks up from between your legs, predatory and possessive.

you lick your bottom lip, feeling bold.

"thought it might be cute to have you with me," you say, a whispered confession.

ghost looks like he's repenting for his sins, kneeling between you legs. you thread your fingers through his hair, arching your hips up, failing to bite back the whine rising in your throat, needing him impossibly closer.

“oh, love.” his voice is rough, wrecked, dragging his lips over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teasing right along the edge of where the ghost fades. “let’s give you something a little more permanent, hm?”

he shouldn’t — he really shouldn’t — but the urge, the need to mark you is overwhelming. it overrides every other rational thought.

he sees the way others look at you. he'll watch your videos — out of curiosity and not jealousy, he tells himself — and see the way your co-stars have this star-struck, pussydrunk look about them. he never brings himself to finish watching the videos.

his teeth sink into your skin, a sharp shock of electricity and want flooding your senses. your nails dig into his scalp, hissing out a breath between your teeth. his teeth are deep, and you can't find yourself to care. arousal leaks from your cunt, begging to be touched and filled and claimed.

ghost eventually withdraws his teeth. you sink down into the mattress, tension seeping from your body. the sting of the mark he left becomes a focal point of your attention, body buzzing and thrumming with arousal as ghost licks thick stripes to soothe the deep impression, admiring his work .

"laswell's gonna kill you," you mumble, moving to cradle the back of his head, trying to pull him up.

he goes willingly.

his eyes sparkle, a cocky smirk painted on his lips as he drags them from your cheek to your lips, indulging in a slow kiss, tongue pushing in your mouth and licking along the edges of your teeth, grazing the roof of your mouth.

"good thing i don't care what laswell thinks," he says against your lips when he pulls away, continuing the path of his kisses down your jaw to your throat, pressing delicate kisses to your pulse.

his cock lays against your hip, thick and pulsing and dripping pre-cum. you lace your legs up around his waist, heels of your feet resting delicately at his sides.

one arm cages you in while he uses his other hand to push your hair back from your face, lips tracing a path from your forehead down your temple, right above your ear.

"and me?" you ask against his jaw, wrapping around your arms around broad shoulders, enticing him to lay more of his weight down on you.

"and you what, sweet thing?" his reply comes so quick, so fluid, like he was waiting for you to ask.

"do you care what i think?"

he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek before pulling back to look at you in a way only he can. you've seen — felt — the stares of your coworkers when you're filming.

it never compares to how ghost — simon — looks at you. like you were made only for him (and maybe you were, you think, from time to time); like you were the moon and he was so desperately trying to be the stars to be close to you; like his every breath began and ended with you.

he doesn't answer you with words. he's never been a man of many words, anyway.

he cups your jaw so softly, thumb brushing along your cheek. his eyes are so bright, his touch is always so gentle.

you can't remember life before he came into it, a blur of memories and moments lost to time. all you know now is that you can't — won't — go through life without him by your side, so deeply entwined in your blood and bones and soul.

his mouth is warm and tender against yours, and it's so easy to lose yourself to the comfort and the haven he has become. he kisses you like his life depends on it, like he'll stop breathing if he lets you go.

his fingers skim along your sides, down your spine and to your hip, tilting you up against him until your ass is resting against his thighs, cock hot and heavy and leaking right above your clit.

he carefully guides himself down your cunt, slipping himself between your folds, gathering your slick, before notching the fat head at your entrance and you ache.

he's so big — bigger than any of your coworkers, anyone you've slept with outside work — but he pushes himself so easily into your soaking pussy, walls fluttering around each inch that sinks into you. you feel so fucking full of him, the stretch a pleasant burn that ignites in your belly, lighting up your nerves like a wildfire.

always a little delirious when he pushes into you, consumed by the tight, wet heat of your cunt, he pants against your cheek, cradling you against his chest.

you fold yourself into him, legs hitching higher, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. you lick at the sweat clinging to his skin, cologne sticking to your tongue.

without any words, he knows when you're ready. you always need a moment to adjust to his size, feeling the deep, steadying breaths you take. he pulls out slowly, carefully, until the tip rests at your entrance, before snapping his hips back against yours. his lips fall to the column of your throat, feeling each moan he pulls from you, each whimper and whine.

you love the way he fucks you for work. it doesn’t feel like it’s work, not with him, never with him. you try not to dream too much about being able to keep him all for yourself.

this feels different. this is different. deep, slow thrusts, lingering kisses, noses brushing, breathing in each other.

your name sounds like a prayer on his lips, as he takes your fingers to kiss them before lacing them together, pressing your joined hands above you on the pillow.

your vision is hazy, clouded over with pleasure, barely able to keep your eyes open with each deep, steady thrust, his cock kissing the tip of your cervix.

"look at me, sweetheart," he begs, accent slurred and thick, eyes so dark and inviting. you want to lose yourself entirely to him.

maybe you already have.

"you don't even know what you do to me," he whispers against your lips, keeping his confession sacred between you. your breath stutters in your throat, unable to choke down the thoughts drowning you, a tear slipping down the side of your cheek.

he chases it with his lips, placing softer kisses to your eyelids, and then above your brow, moving down your nose to the bow of your lips. your nails dig into his sides, trying to convey each muddled thought through your touch, marking and marring him and staking your claim.

a sharp inhale follows a deeper thrust, choking out his name as pleasure floods your veins like venom, overtaking you.

"there?" he breathes, nails digging into your hip to keep you steady. voice lost, all you do is nod and mewl, pressing your breasts up against his chest, always needing him closer.

"yeah, baby, i know," he says, almost laughing, arm lacing around your waist to press you flush against him, his other hand tangling in the sheets beside your head.

with anyone else, you'd roll your eyes and scoff at the arrogance. but with ghost? you're so pliant and loose in his grip, letting him do whatever he wants with you, so submissive and obedient, only for him.

"oh, you've needed this ever since we got to the party, hm?" his teeth graze your neck, down to your collar, right above the curve of your breast. "bet you would've let me fuck you in the bathroom, hm? let my cum leak out of you for everyone to see, let them know that you're mine?"

his thrusts are sharper, meaner. it's everything you want, eyes rolling in the back of your head as the pleasure burns hotter and hotter, the precipice of release right there. the sound of your cunt drawing him in deeper with each smack of his hips against yours fills the room, each moan accented with your pussy gushing around him, his cock coated in your desire.

"gonna be my good girl and cum for me?" his voice is so rough, a hand around your throat forcing you to look at him, mouth open as you pant out each breath, unable to think of anything but his name.

unable to think of anything but your first name with his last, a contract with your names, a band around your finger.

you can only whine out a yes, please, fuck please, want to cum for you. the fingers around your throat tighten, the edges of your vision seeping black.

a sharp bite to your shoulder is the catalyst for your orgasm. thighs shaking, a moan of his name weak in your throat, your cum coating the tantalizing line of hair from his bellybutton to his cock, dripping down your thighs.

"fuckin' hell," he growls against your skin, snapping his hips hard, grazing your clit twice, three times, before you feel his spend paint your insides. thick, hot spurts of his cum pulse from his cock, drawing out your own orgasm and making your brain static with pleasure.

a mixture of his cum and yours spill out from the edges of where he's buried inside you. his cock pulses a few more times as he comes down from his high, skin slick with sweat that's rapidly cooling.

he presses his entire weight down onto you, burying his face into your neck as your nose buries into his hair. sex and release and the last dregs of your perfume permeate the air.

you card your fingers gently through his hair, a comfortable silence lingering as you both fight to catch your breath. he needs a haircut, fingers tangling in the length. maybe he'll let you give him one tomorrow.

his body sinks deeper into yours, his breath even and steady to the point where you think he might've fallen asleep inside you. you're not about to wake him.

“have you ever thought about leaving?” you ask, hesitant, letting your question linger in the air.

“the industry?” comes his reply a moment later.

you hum in acknowledgement.

he takes another moment more to think, before his answer comes, muffled against your throat. “sometimes, yeah."

“if i left, would you leave with me?”

his reply comes not even a second later, without any hesitation.

“my love, i go where you go."

you're glad he's tucked into your neck, arms wrapping around him protectively, possessively, throat clicking as you swallow. more tears slip down your cheeks, burning a path down your cheeks and settling in his hair. your eyes close as the emotions threaten to burst from your chest, a weak attempt to maintain your composure.

you can only hold back so much.

“do you believe in soulmates?” you ask, significantly softer. you only ask when you're confident your voice won't betray you. the crack gives you away.

ghost is silent, inhaling the scent of sex and sweat and you.

"'m not sure," he replies. he sounds worried, unsure. your heart beats painfully.

he's scared you're going to leave.

you'll never leave him.

“maybe they’re not in this world," you say, fingers tracing along his shoulders and down his spine. "maybe in another, another life, another place."

he shivers under your gentle touch.

"i think you’re mine," you say, heart beating and aching and tearing at the seams; so, so scared of your confession. "i can’t imagine going through this life without you.”

his voice, so much stronger, more confident and brazen and sure comes after a heartbeat.

“good thing you’ll never have to, darling.”

#ink by bambi #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley/reader #simon riley/you #ghost/reader #ghost/you #simon riley smut #modern warfare smut #simon riley imagine #modern warfare imagine

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babydollmarauders · 5 months

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SILENT NIGHT — MATTHEW TKACHUK

matthew tkachuk x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which Matthew agrees to walk around their neighborhood to look at holiday lights… with a catch

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, praise, slight exhibitionism, choking, daddy kink, p in v (unprotected). (2.8k words)

notes: welcome to day 6 of my 12 days of kinkmas! this is my first time ever writing for matty, so i apologize if it’s iffy.

i should’ve known nothing with Matthew could be done with pure relaxation in mind.

i thought it would be nice, a relaxing walk around the neighborhood, hand in hand like normal couples as we look at all the christmas lights that decorate each house.

but i didn’t take into account that my boyfriend is, to put it lovingly, a freak.

a relaxing walk? no, thank you, not for him. instead, he has to make things… interesting.

so here i am, hand grasping Matthew’s tightly as i walk next to him, the side of my body pressed to his, and soft breathy moans escaping my lips as he smirks beside me.

i begged him all day since he got home from his roadie to get him to agree to this walk, and he kept saying he ‘wasn’t feeling it’. until he came up with his one term, a stupid term that i stupidly agreed with.

“Matty, c’mon!” i whisper pleadingly, a shiver wracking my body from both the cold air that rises up my jacket, and the vibrations that press against my clit, controlled by the little remote that my boyfriend plays around with in his coat pocket.

“uh-uh.” he teasingly denies, turning the vibrator in my panties down a level.

the dark sky looms up above us, stars barely visible, but it doesn’t matter to me because my eyes are fixated on the bright lights that adorn each house. reds, greens, white’s, and blue’s; blow up santa’s in a few lawns; light up reindeer in others.

though it’s not snowing like it would’ve in Calgary, i’ve gotten so used to the warm Florida weather that now that it’s winter, the nip of chill in the air makes the tip of my nose red.

my teeth sink into my bottom lip so hard that i fear i’ll draw blood, attempting to hold in my sounds as we walk past another couple that must’ve had the same idea to look at the lights.

Matthew smiles politely as we pass, not giving off any hints that we’re doing anything beyond admiring the beautiful lights; but once we’re far enough away, i hear the click of a button of the remote a few times, the vibrations of the toy that’s pressed snugly against my clit rising in intensity.

my legs stop, my hand that’s tangled in Matty’s tugging him back as he continues to walk, and my jaw drops open as i let out a loud, squeaky whine.

“shhh!” he reminds me. he hastily takes two big steps forward, stopping in front of me.

his hand rises to cup my cheek, tilting my head up to look at him, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mixture of mischief and lust.

“you gotta be quiet. don’t want anyone to hear you, do you, sweetheart?” his head tilts in questioning, an eyebrow raising as he awaits my response.

i’m quiet for a moment, listening to the silence of the night before i respond.

“no, Matty.” i shake my head as my boyfriend nods his in approval, tangling his arm through mine.

he urges me along, my feet shuffling slowly across the cement as i attempt to simultaneously walk and clench my thighs together. leaning down, his lips ghost against the shell of my ear, his heated breath fanning against my cold skin, sending chills down my spine, my eyelids fluttering closed as i let him guide me.

“you’re being such a good girl for me,” his voice is deep but spoken in a hushed whisper, his hand splaying out against the small of my back. “looking at me with those pretty eyes, just desperate to cum.”

his free hand slips back into his pocket, the vibrator suddenly switching to the lowest setting, making me whimper in response.

“not yet.” Matthew tsk’s shaking his head as he resumes the walk, guiding me along down the sidewalk.

he glances down at me, flashing a bright and innocent smile; as though he isn’t holding the essential key to my orgasm in the palm of his hand; as though he isn’t torturing me with pleasure in this very moment.

his eyes flit up, gazing behind me, and entirely too quickly, his smile turns mischievous, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

“hey, look,” he sing-songs, “there’s sasha’s house. and the lights are on! we should stop by and say hello, shouldn’t we?”

he nods his head towards the house behind me, “we’ve been meaning to invite him over for Christmas dinner, right?”

his hand slips into mine, pulling me along towards his captain’s house, and my eyes widen, shaking my head.

“no!” i try to speak lowly, but my word turns into a soft moan as the vibration against my clit gains intensity. we get all the way across the street before i can speak again, “Matthew!”

he halts in his tracks, turning towards me with a raised brow at the disuse of his nickname.

“i am not going to face your captain right now!” a cheeky grin spreads across my boyfriend’s face, teeth on full display, and i already know he’s about to test my limits.

“why not?” he questions playfully, biting his lips to hold back a chuckle.

“y-you know why not!” i hiss back, my hips jerking slightly as he lowers the intensity of the toy just a little, “i am not facing him with a fucking vibrator in my underwear!”

“hmm,” Matty hums, nodding understandingly, but his lips still hold a mocking smile. his finger hooks under my chin, tipping my head back to look into my eyes, “well then; the faster we walk, the faster we get home, which means the faster you can cum all over my cock.”

my body trembles in desperation at the mere thought, my hand reaching up to grasp his in determination before i begin walking as fast as i can muster under the circumstances.

Matthew follows me, speeding up his pace as he begins to laugh, “so needy!”

his teasing leaves me unphased, my feet only shuffling back towards our house even quicker. but the faster i move, the more intense the vibrations get against my clit, urging me to slow down.

“M-Matty, please!” i cry, spinning around to face my boyfriend, “you win! i can’t take it anymore! i wanna go home!”

frustrated tears threaten to spill over my waterline, a pout etched into my face as i gaze up at him, towering over me.

“we can go home,” he hums sincerely. stopping beside me, he holds his arm out for me to entangle mine with; before lowering his lips towards my ear one last time, “right after this.”

my brows furrow in confusion, pulling my face back to look at him, but it doesn’t take long for me to understand his words.

the vibrator begins to hum, my body falling into his, as he proudly holds up the little purple remote, the tiny little LED numbers at the top reading ‘10’.

“highest level, darling. just let it out.” Matthew smirks, arms encircling my waist, holding me flush to his body as my legs turn weak.

the vibration against my clit is the most severe it’s been all night, my legs instinctively pressing together. but it doesn’t help at all, rather making the sensation stronger, which in turn makes my legs give out entirely.

Matty holds my body up, leaning down to capture my lips in his, effectively releasing my bottom lip from its jail between my teeth. with our lips pressed together, my hands tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck, moans pouring from my mouth and into his as my toes curl inside my combat boots.

eyes squeezed shut, the knotted chord that’s been tangling in my stomach snaps, my orgasm bringing flashes of light into my dark vision, blood rushing in my ears.

and just as quick as it hits, it’s gone; the vibrator powered off entirely with a simple click of a button from Matthew’s finger.

i breathe heavily as i come down from my release, pulling away from my boyfriend’s lips as he lifts me off the ground. my legs loosely wrap around his waist, his hands holding my ass as he begins to walk, eyeing his path from over my shoulder.

“i thought i wasn’t-”

i’m cut off by Matty speaking over me, “coming until we got home? yeah, that was the plan.”

he shrugs, fingers gripping tighter on my ass as he hastens his movement.

“but, you seemed so… tense,” he chuckles, “call it an early christmas present.”

“i don’t wanna cum for christmas!” i pout, but when he looks back at me with a singular raised brow, i backtrack, “well, i do. but, i also want a stanley cup!”

Matthew snickers as he steps up the stairs towards our front door.

“yeah? join the club.” he jokes and i smack his shoulder as he unlocks our house, opening the door and stepping inside.

“you know what i meant!” i roll my eyes, “i want a custom one a red one, like Panthers red, with your number on it.”

he smirks, letting me slide down the front of his body as i lay my feet flat upon the hardwood floor.

“i think i need a shower.” i huff, kicking my boots off before i turn to face my boyfriend again.

Matthew stands in the same spot as before, now eyeing the wet spot on his shirt from where my pussy was pressed against him after my release.

“you? look at me.”

i shrug, looking up at him with innocent eyes, “well, you did promise i could cum on your cock when we got home. you didn’t say where in the home.”

my boyfriend stares me down with a blank expression, blinking slowly as he processes my words, before clasping my hand with his, hurriedly pulling me towards our bedroom.

i giggle as i run through the house behind him, following him into our bedroom, where we’re quick to rid ourselves of our layers of clothing. i keep my panties on, walking into the bathroom before i peel them off, setting the vibrator in the sink to wash later.

i turn around just in time to watch Matty turn the shower on, water cascading down and pinging off the tile of the walk-in shower, splashing up against the panes of glass that surround it.

i step towards him, eyes scanning his toned body until i reach the part i yearn for.

his cock is hard; no longer straining against any fabrics, it stands in the air, tip flaming red and glistening with precum.

“oh, you’re so desperate, aren’t you?” he smirks, his hand pressing against my lower back as he ushers me into the steaming shower. “your eyes haven’t left my dick, it’s like you’re willing it to fuck you.”

my sight finally flickers back up to his face, warm water splashing upon my back as i stare up at him with soft eyes.

“i am.” i whisper, my voice low and sultry.

Matthew steps forward, closing the shower door behind him and pulling me towards him with a hand on my hip.

his erection presses against my hip, his voice deep and lust filled as he speaks, “all you to do is ask, darling.”

my thighs press together, eyelids falling hooded as i gaze up at him.

“Matty?” i start, an encouraging hum coming from his lips, “will you fuck me?”

“turn around, angel.”

i spin around, back facing him as water falls against my chest. he turns us to the side, his hands gripping my hips and pulling my ass back towards him, his cock nestling against it.

he bends my upper body forward, my arms instinctively stretching out in front of me, my wet hands slapping against the wall. Matthew steps back, kicking my feet apart before his right hand leaves my hip.

i squeak out a moan as his thick fingers swipe through my folds, gauging my wetness and lubrication from my orgasm just ten minutes ago.

“you think you can take me?” his lips, press against the top of my shoulder, peppering wet kisses up the side of my neck as i heave out of a shaky breath.

“yes,” i moan, nodding my head as best i can, “yes, daddy.”

Matty groans at the name, his hips bucking against mine and causing my jaw to drop. i peer back over my shoulder, watching as his hand wraps around his length.

he guides his tip through my wetness, spreading my cum around as lubrication before he lines himself up with my entrance, pressing forward and taking great pride in how my walls swallow him in.

“fuck.” he grunts, listening to my strangled whimper as he eases into me, “doing so well f’me, princess.”

the painful yet pleasant sting of his thick cock stretching me open causes my arms to shake, dropping forward with my forearms against the wall now. the new angle proves well when he finally bottoms out inside of me, the tip of his dick prodding against my g-spot.

“oh my god.” i cry out, my hips grinding back against him as he pulls out slowly, biding his time before he makes a swift thrust back in. his muscular thighs smack against the backs of mine, the sound echoing with the water that sprays down upon us.

his arm wraps around the front of my waist, holding me up as he fucks into me. his thrusts start slow but harsh, gradually picking up until he’s slamming into me at an unforgiving pace.

my tits bounce, my entire body jolting forward with each thrust, and i know at the rate he’s going, i won’t last long.

a broken sob carries through the bathroom as i press my cheek against the wall, barely able to keep my head up as i arch my back, allowing a deeper angle and an even better positioning for him to hit that soft spot inside of me.

“M-Matty! daddy!” my body shakes, only being pushed further towards my limit with the sound of his groans as he fucks into me, my walls pulsing around him.

“that’s it, princess,” his hands slides up my front, roughly clutching at my breast before continuing its travels, wrapping around my throat. “you gonna cum for me?”

he uses his grip to pull me upright, my back against his chest as my head tips back, laying on his shoulder. his hand tightens gently around my neck, the rush clouding my head as my breath catches in my throat.

i make a feeble attempt at a nod, but it’s more of a jerky movement than anything. his cock prods against my g-stop repetitively, his hips smacking against my ass.

his grip loosens enough for me to gulp in deep breaths, the pressure in my stomach building and building with each passing second. his free hand falls down to my swollen clit, a singular thick digit rubbing against it as his pace never falters.

“i’m gonna c-cum.” i pant out through shaky moans.

“cum for me, princess.”

his name falls from my lips like a solemn prayer, my toes curling against the wet tile underneath them as my eyes rolls back in my head, the pressure in my stomach finally relieving in a blast of pleasure.

Matty doesn’t stop pounding into me, his thrusts just growing more desperate as he chases his own high, simultaneously riding me through mine.

“shit, shit, shit!�� he curses, his thrusts faltering as he reaches his orgasm, releasing inside of me with ropes of cum.

he stills, his hand falling from my neck, and instead both of them gripping my hips as he slowly pulls out of me. a gasping breath falls from me as i’m left clenching around nothing, the feeling of emptiness bittersweet.

“god, you’re a fucking dream.” he hums, spinning me around and pulling me into his chest.

a lazy smile spreads across my lips, pressing a kiss to his pec as my eyelids flutter.

“i think i really need a shower now.” he laughs at my response, turning so my body is completely under the warm water.

i step back, tipping my head back to let the water soak my hair and body before i peek an eye open to glance at him. his eyes are stuck on my breasts, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“are you gonna help me get clean or what?” i cock an eyebrow at him, his eyes snapping up to look at my face.

“i think… if i do that, i can’t be held responsible for my dick’s reaction.”

a boisterous giggle erupts from my throat, my hands reaching out to grab his, and i pull him under the water with me.

“well, the night is young,” i sing-song, “and you were gone for a long time.”

“i was gone a week.” he chuckles.

“mhm, and i usually get about 5 orgasms a week… i think we’ve got some catching up to do.”

#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk blurb #matthew tkachuk smut #fla panthers #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #faithlynn’s writings <3

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trulyumai · 1 month

Text

Oh, Mr mosses (Series!) V

Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being. Now, his Mimic has taken a liking to you too.

Will you be as smitten of them as they are of you? Only time will tell.

Author Note: Hello everyone, a bit longer of a chapter but thats okay! After Thursday I will be final free! Which means I'll have more time for writing and answering requests, thank you for your patience! <3

Warnings: Blood, Obsessive/Possessive behavior, Stalking, Talk about Death, Mutilation.

Also available on AO3!

Taglist: @tfamidoingwithmylife @mariaflor873 @fandomfeind @greycloudsy @skully-skeleton-bone0106 @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-tiger-lover78 @itoshilvr @wilddreamer98 (Let me know if you want to be added!)

God, even the way she laid there, limp against the office wall was everything to him.

Biting down on 28 only crunches and squelches echoed through the room, the said man laid in pieces by his feet.

He casually sat there in her squeaky chair, munching on a limb like it was normal; an everyday hobby.

Humming a familiar tune he threw the rest of the arm past him, somewhere towards the cabinets, he had to guess.

With his feet on the desk he sighed.

Soon the D.D.D would learn of his presence, his safety would be at risk and his little toy would be in even more danger than she already was.

Maybe he would take her, hide her away to be his little wife. That is what they’re called, aren’t they?

First things first; he had to dispose of the replica.

Clicking his teeth he scratched his nails on the wood beside him.

That fucking fool. A useless mirror image he copied.

He had to learn everything about the man before taking his face; starting with his job, his hobbies, his routes, down to the fucking shampoo he preferred. Until it got to his favorite area, the most recent addition in his life; the pretty receptionist.

He knew it would be so easy to manipulate the woman. Her mind was so weak compared to him, with just a tad bit of bending (Mentally and a bit physically), he molded her perfectly for him.

Enough to not only get access to the building, but to her as well.

She groaned as she laid there, she must be having a nightmare. He hoped it involved him, with some image of the mimic biting chunks out or flesh, kissing them as he went on. Holding back a grin he decided to move her, before someone else were to poke their nose in the already bloodied business of theirs. He pulled her up until she reached his chest and eyed the old corroded clipboard by the door.

Going down the list of names he got to her; room 24 Level 2.

Stepping through the red he rubbed his feet on 28’s corpse, letting the leftover blood dry on his once white, button up. We wouldn’t want a little trail now would we?

Clicking the green button he passed 28 once more, whistling lowly as the elevator pushed its doors open with a groan.

Stepping in his clawed finger pressed the second button on the wall, watched as the doors came together with a satisfying thunk.

Belly satiated and full, he looked down at the woman in his arms, her head was lolled to the side, leaning firmly on his chest. Grinning wide he bent towards her, pressing a sloppy, bloody kiss to her forehead, cheek and nose.

The box dinged once again, the doors slid open loudly to indicate their arrival to her floor.

Walking through the corridor, he read the numbers idly

10, 12, 14,

A turn left

16, 18, 20-

A creek escaped, some neighbor had opened their door, just up ahead.

It was that rich suited prick.

“Ah! Francis, lovely to- is that the receptionist?” His grin was hesitant, eying the girl with bloody marks on her face.

He could kill him now, but it would be more of a mess to deal with, he doubted he could hide another body from the D.D.D.

Mustering up a smile, his sharp teeth gritted together.

“She’s ah, not feeling well,” attempting to move past the pompous man and walk towards her door just steps away, the man stopped them once more and put a hand out for extra measure.

Growling he slowly turned, met the eyes of the man once more.

“Do we have a problem,” he gritted, claws digging into the poor girl below him.

“Well- ah, tell her to visit me when she feels up to it,”

He put his hand back at his side, rubbing his fingers idly.

“I have a job opportunity for her, you see!”

Not bothering to waste anymore time, he pressed on to her room. Ignoring the suited man's stares as he clicked her key into place, shoving them both inside before slamming the door.

“Fucking prick.” He muttered.

But now he was all alone, could touch and prod at the girl with no interruptions.

Looking around he noticed the apartment was tidy; everything had a place, plants sat by the darkened windowsill and beside them, a full bookcase was laid about. Her kitchen was spotless, only a few decorative items littered the counters while the sink was, of course, empty.

Holding her up with one hand he scratched at his gums, pieces of bone were starting to prod against his teeth, becoming more annoying than painful.

Looking for her bedroom he propped open a door with his shoulder, and with a thump, dumped her unceremoniously on the mattress.

It was then, he realized.

“Oh fuck.”

Bolting angrily back towards the door, the hallway and elevator as fast as he could, he bit down on his annoyingly human cheek; hard.

He left the elevator unlocked.

Any other mimic could come through freely and he really couldn’t have that.

Another competition for his food? Yeah no, fuck that. He hated how territorial his kind was, made everything a pain in the ass to retrieve and made survival even more strenuous.

It’s why he found himself here; In this little rundown apartment, with surprisingly good security.

Being denied and caught over and over made everything so much more satisfying, because he knew that if he waited- stuck around for the right moment, he’d get in.

Watched plenty of his kind die too, before deciding to take a shape of his own, and finally, making his way to the pretty and gullible receptionist.

Mashing the first floor button he clawed at his face, light red marks dented down with each press of his fingers.

Ironically enough, he’s the one that has to distinguish between what’s real and fake now.

Waiting for the elevator he growled.

“What a pain in the ass.”

——

The milkman was tired. Getting in, absolutely no one was there to check his ID, and he wondered if the receptionist was okay (Yet again). It seemed that lately, that’s all he could think about. Her health, the way she smiled, her pretty hands.

Not once had she missed any of her shifts, and although he had only been there for a short time, he would always hear from the neighbors how dutiful she was.

Come sickness, fatigue, anything, she would be there.

Walking past the office, his fingers shook cautiously by his sides.

Enough was enough, he would talk to her, he couldn’t avoid her forever and his little, “crush,” wasn’t going away anytime soon.

So with a long intake of air. He pressed her floor number.

It was now or never.

The doors closed, and the travel up began.

Floor1

Ding!

Floor 2

Ding!

With his head pointed downwards he heard the doors sliding open before walking forward, passing a quick figure to his left. Not bothering to greet them he kept his head down.

The anxiety was getting to him and wait- he didn’t even know what room she was in!

Head up, he turned back toward the figure that passed him.

They obviously resided on this floor, maybe he could attempt to ask them about her room without completely looking like a creep.

But what he saw he just couldn’t explain- rationally describe.

His face stared back at him, it was set in a scowl while he noticed vast amounts of blood adorned his usually crisp white shirt. The doors were on their way to closing, and this version of him reached out to stop it.

He was too late, the metal doors crashed together and Francis could feel his heart jumping out of his chest.

What the actual fuck was going on.

Was he that tired?

Grabbing his face he turned back, mumbling incessant comforts to stop the beats of his heart from getting any faster.

He needed to find her room, and fast.

The first thing she noticed was her head. It boomed with an unfathomable amount of pressure, and she was hesitant to open her eyes.

She felt around, immediately recognizing the comfort of her own duvet, the silkiness of her pillows, the faint wafts of the candle she lit the night prior. It calmed the tenseness found between her shoulders, instantly relaxing against the cushioned material.

With a muffled groan she allowed her eyelids to slink up, her messy room greeted her vision.

Not remembering the trip up, she laid there, stretched out and confused.

Craning her head just off the side of the bed, the receptionist glanced towards the hallway; to her front door that was wide open.

Jerking up, her feet collided with one another, and looking more like a newborn calf than human she attempted her way to the front of the room.

Never before had a fatigue caused this much confusion; chaos to her mind.

Something had to be wrong.

She remembered clocking in, idly sitting by as the clock ticked and ticked. After that it was all blank- it startled her to no end.

With a hand on the door frame her figure leaned on the wall, just outside her abode.

Biting her lip she held back a whimper, the bright lights of the hall burned her eyes, she tried to go off of memory, closing her eyes as she felt for every familiar bump and groove of the space.

Turning to where she remembered the elevator was, someone bumped into her- hard.

“My goodness!” That voice… could it really be?

“Francis?” Squinting her eyes she blinked repeatedly, trying to get the figure to focus in her vision.

“H-Hey,” the deep voice answered back, smiling, as she knew it was the tired mailman. Only he could have such a serious yet flustered sounding voice.

“I've been looking for you,”

The man gripped the girl's shoulders, light yet firm and bent down just to meet her gaze.

“Some… things have been happening, I wanted to see if you were okay.” Flustered, the girl forced out a laugh, taking a hand off her shoulder she gripped it softly.

“I'm okay, you look more disheveled than me, big guy, what's up?” Kneading the flesh around his knuckles the man couldn't help but relax.

She smelled so good- of lilac and vanilla, it invaded his senses and corrupted his mind. He couldn't even remember the duplicate until it was shoved back by his consciousness.

Letting out a low moan he shook his head. ‘Focus Francis, god-’

“I have to talk to you,” he blurted out, face getting warmer as she paused her movement, and looked right at him.

Letting out a giggle she rested her arm, just so it leaned comfortably in the crook of his elbow.

“Okay? My rooms around the corner, if you wanna talk there?”

Not relying on his words he nodded his head, letting the girl lightly pull his arm to her apartment.

Now, he just had to figure out how to explain his bloody twin.

Should be easy!

And if she calls him crazy, and ultimately pushes him out of the apartment- possibly building, at least he got to get this close to her.

Smelling her, touching her, it was better than living alone with his thoughts- tormenting him every hour of the week that he lazily spent thinking about her anyway.

Inhaling her flowery scent once more he shuddered, he hoped the pretty girl would believe him, so he could once more bask in her presence and ignore every little thing around.

#francis mosses x reader #horror #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #francis mosses x you #game x reader #horror game #x reader #fanfiction #romance #Mimic #Thank you Caseoh for showing me this game ILY

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pro-mammonologist · 11 months

Text

Dommy Mammoney Headcanons

(I did a subby one so it obviously deserved a follow-up)

- Cocky. Cocky AS FUCK. Second he’s comfy with domming MC he’s a cocky fuck.

- easily turned on but it takes him longer to cum when he’s domming

- loves asserting his dominance not even always sexually like he likes to tell Mc “sit on my lap” or “get me *random object*” only playfully tho but he loves it when you obey

- likes to avoid mc touching him too much when he’s trying to really really assert dominance because he will lose it so fucking fast

- Prefers to give as a dom. Service/pleasure dom for sure.

- will only give pain if mc really really really really gives complete and total permission. Terrified of hurting them. *needs the hurt vs harm conversation

- when he does give pain, he prefers sensation opposed to impact, similar to himself. Much more comfy playing with wax or heat, or ice. Rather humiliate Mc as well.

- when he does impact after much much negotiation, he loves to spank, use restraints and is more of the kind to cause discomfort.

- loves to include as much intimacy as possible mid-fuck. After some harsh spanks, he’ll rub Mc tenderly and kiss them heartily.

- can go the most rounds when domming, will want to keep going always as well.

- type of guy to get jealous of toys but should he find out you really like them… yeah Mammon is using vibes every single fucking time. Always up for overstimulation.

- always up for some throatfucking or face sitting, he will happily hold you down on his face so you can’t wiggle away or fuck your face to his hearts content

- wants to make you a big ole mess covered in cum and spit

- he won’t admit it but he’d totally be a leather daddy, he loves the aesthetic it’s hot as hell to him

- latex is too squeaky for him but seeing you in it esp if it’s tight and skin pokes out god hes fucking whipped

- likes to make you feel like you can only cum with his touch… it’s hard to explain its like he wants your pleasure to be entirely dependent on him and thinks this type of vulnerability is unbelievably attractive especially because it makes you feel like you need him

- for you to trust him to take control, it’s a huge compliment, especially since he knows humans are so much more fragile.

- actually discreetly asked Lucifer how he could be more dominant and Lucifer was like “I don’t like whatever you’re planning” and he’s 100% suspicious until he notices how Mammon’s behaving with you and he teased Mammon about it to no end

#obey me #obey me shall we date #mammon x mc #mammon #mammon smut #obey me nightbringer #currently under mammons bed #obey me headcanons

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sanjifucker42069 · 5 months

Text

Hit Me? Sanji x Reader

Word count: about 1.2k

Bro….the dodgeball game…sanji is so stupid, pathetic wet cat of a man coded...I wanted to throttle him. I want to hit this man with my 2003 ford prius yoda style. I want to chew on him like a squeaky toy

Warnings: fem!reader, heavy handed teasing, you wanna make sanji cry apparently, VERY SUGGESTIVE, use of the word cock lol, semi-nsfw, no fucking tho…unless? 👀👀👀 sanji might be semi ooc, I am obsessed with the idea of a reader that sanji doesn't have the usual chivalry towards?? Like bless him he'd try, but you're just such a shit.

“Why yeah it'd be my pleasure ma'am, you can hit me wherever you like!”

Oh. Now wasn't that intriguing?

-----

Sanji sulked on the sidelines, fiddling with a lightly crumpled cigarette. Taking pity on him you sat down next to him. Sanji shot you a lazy grin, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. You smiled back, lightly pushing his shoulder.

“I should be mad at you, you could cost us the match.” You joked. Sanji grumbled, his words unintelligible. He could barely make out that ‘you wouldn't understand’ and ‘that he was weak okay!’

You laughed, eyes turning back to watch the match in front of you. You didn't feel too defeated, you trusted your captain.

“It's okay Ji. I don't think anyone could've gotten out faster than I did! You still did good!”

Sanji turned to you, hearts dancing in his eyes. “And who would dare throw balls at such beauty?! A lovely lady such as yourself shouldn't have even had to partake in such a barbaric display.”

“You saying I can't handle some balls? I happen to be very good at handling them.” You teased. The result was instantaneous, Sanji biting back a perverted laugh, a cute blush on his cheeks.

“Oh angel, really? I didn't expect you to be so saucy.”

There were many things that were undeniably true about you; You were in no way one of the stronger straw hats, you loved a good dirty joke, and you loved nothing more than making your little love cook squirm. If Sanji wanted to pretend all women were angels capable of no wrong, well, who were you to take advantage of that?

You feigned innocence, even cocking your head. “What do you mean? I didn't drop it once.”

Sanji squirmed, avoiding your gaze. You wanted to crack and snort loudly at his cute face. Instead you pursed your lips in thought.

“Love! I…uh-” he cut off when you couldn't hold it in anymore, a raucous laugh escaping you. He watched you slap your knee like it was the funniest thing in the world. He pouted. “(Name) that's not fair.”

“Oh relax, you big baby.” You cooed.

A steady silence resumed between you two, watching the match with bated breath. Things weren't looking so good. As the enemies advanced on Zoro, Chopper, and Luffy, so did you with your own attack.

“So.” You began. Sanji hummed in acknowledgement, eyes focused on the field. You paused. Was this really the time to flirt with the man? Probably not, but you were nothing if not an opportunist. You grinned at him, exaggerating his swooning.

“It'd be my pleasure ma'am, you can hit me wherever you like, hmm?”

‘You were a lady!’ Sanji reminded himself, trying to bite back a growl. You just loved to get under his skin, didn't you? He was flushed in embarrassment. It's not like he wanted to lose the match! It's not his fault he had a weakness for pretty women!

The crowd was aroar, you could hear your crew shouting. Oh. Zoro was out. Sanji began yelling at the swordsman, before he turned his attention back to you.

“So?” Sanji tried to sound unaffected. Your cute giggles reached his ears. Seriously! You were such a little tease, so cute, but so unattainable. You seemed to love riling him up, and he wanted nothing more than to make you his. He wasn't used to women not only reciprocating, but flirting back at a rate that made him dizzy.

Honestly, the both of you needed to stop being cowards and just confess already.

“Who's the ‘saucy’ one now? You're out here parading your little masochist streak.”

“I am not!” He blustered.

“Where were you hoping they'd hit anyway?” You purred out the question. Sanji tried ignoring you, focusing on the match, but he was one man! One currently very weak man.

You pouted. “I was just joking, Ji. Your kinks are your own. I'm not here to shame you for it.”

“It's not a kink!” He argued. You were relishing this. Sanji was always such a gentleman, so giving and dedicated to worshipping women. And yet, you, you were one of the only women you'd ever seen him snap at and lose his cool with, his hot temper getting the better of him.

Taking advantage of this you leant closer, your thighs touching. Sanji snapped out of his anger, eyes darting to where your half naked leg pressed against his long suit trouser-clad one. Too caught up in where you were touching him, he didn't notice how close your lips were to his ear.

“So you wouldn't like it if that pretty Porche lady pelted you with those dodgeballs? Or tied you up? Or manhandled you to make you be a good boy?”

Sanji was sweating, his heart eyes betraying him. Yeah, you knew your chef. You dropped your voice lower, bracing one hand on his chest.

“Forget hitting, what if she stepped on you? Would you like that, Sanji?”

The man in question whined, quiet pants escaped him, his eyes swirling with lust. He let his eyes fall closed, the dodgeball match long forgotten. Bingo! You felt yourself grow wet. Yes, you were a bad guy! It's just so easy to rile him up. Besides, Sanji would never spare you a passing glance, clear that you annoyed him. So what was the harm in airing out your frustrations like this?

“Love.” He gulped, shuffling around to change how he sat. You grinned at him wickedly. His reactions were so cute, you definitely overstepped the line.

“You didn't answer the question, cook. What if she stepped on your cock, hmm? Only lightly, of course, wouldn't wanna damage the goods.”

Sanji made a noise halfway between a groan and a choking sound, his hand darting up to grab the one you had pressed against his chest. You startled. You could see it in his eyes, the disgust, that unmistakable look of discomfort. Of course he wouldn't want to discuss this kind of stuff with you! You were one of the guys!

“Shit.” You withdrew your hand, not noticing how Sanji's tried to grab you. You'd definitely overstepped the line! “I'm so sorry Sanji, that was completely uncalled for.”

“Love.” He rasped. You were flustered, trying desperately not to stare at him.

The crowd was aroar, people around you jumping and shouting. You looked for a way out.

Wait? What the fuck?

A brown ball of fluff was lying crumpled on the court lines.

“Chopper! Oh shit!” You yelled, hurriedly getting to your feet. “Sanji I'm so sorry, I- you can yell at me about this later, I promise.”

Sanji watched you speed off, hurriedly running to their youngest member. He sighed out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. You were going to be the death of him! You'd made him so hard, so quick, and then, like a true tease dashed off before he could properly engage anything. When would you realise that it was you he wanted to treat him like that?

Later?

Yeah. Yeah he could yell about it later.

Right now, he needed a fucking smoke and a cold shower.

-----------

Looks like lingerie part 3 is coming i promise ;-; I'm just having trouble writing it ;-; here's a little drabble instead I do have SOOOOO many drabbles I've worked on in the mean time though?

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader

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autismsupermusicalassassin · 1 year

Note

Could you write a Miguel O’Hara fic where Y/n finds a lost dog and Miguel is annoyed cause the dog is getting too much attention?

Spider pup

plot: you find a lost puppy and you take it home and you starts giving the puppy so much love and affection that your boyfriend get annoyed by it but after a fight with some guy goes awry someone is unexpected help him

A/N: first fic requested and Miguel O’Hara x reader so I may cause him to be a bit off character

“Okay little one welcome to your new home “ you said as hold a cutest puppy ever during your normal walks in getting home from visiting a kid you were tutoring for their math when you spotted the puppy he looked so lost and no collar so when you took him to the vet to see if he was microchipped in case to contact the owner which there wasn’t so you decided to keep the little furry puppy to yourself and train little guy which you name her Jessica after the spider woman from the past . After all that you introduced her to your boyfriend Miguel O’Hara aka Spider-Man, A.I assistant and helper Lyla, which she personally adores the puppy right away but she returned to assist Spiderman in a battle with vulture. So you have to wait for him to get home to meet the puppy “can you keep a secret Jessica?” Your new pup perks her ears “ my boyfriend is Spider-Man and he is going to love you like you’re his own kid “ with that you gotten attacked by puppy kisses which you laugh with joy.

From the moment when Miguel came back from a rough fight with the vulture, all he wanted to do is to get his suit off and snuggle in bed with you. He heard the squeaky noise as he walked in the room causing him to look at a dog toy “what the-“ he was about to speak until a small dog runs up to him and pawing his leg . He was diffidently confused until rush out and picked up the puppy holding it close to you “hey Miguel” you kissed his cheeks “how was your fight?” After saying that he grimaced “it’s was fine I still got a few punches here and there “ he answered while staring at the pup “Y/N why is a puppy doing here?” You explain to him how you found the pup and decided to take care of her. “Plus I feel lonely at times” you admit to him which he sighs and he finally allows you to keep it shouldn’t be a bother right?

Miguel instantly regretted agreeing to keep the puppy after a couple of weeks why? Because you’re spending so much attention to Jessica that he starts feeling jealous towards the pup “why did I ever agree to keep that darn dog again?” He grumbles and lyla responds “ because you love her and the pup is adorable” he made a face at her as you walked in holding Jessica giving her lots of love and affection (even a mini spider suit) heck he couldn’t get intercourse with you without the interruptions from the pup. “Hey miggy , me and Jessica are going out for a walk” you told him “we will be back soon” he mumbles a okay as you left for a walk as Miguel is ready for his Spider-Man duties.

It’s wasn’t a hour after the walk with your new pup and went to take a nap, Jessica senses something was wrong, not that you were in danger but no she could tell something was wrong and like any normal young dog she went to investigate until she heard Lyla trying to get a hold on Miguel “ come on Miguel what’s happening there ?” Even though she is a dog and can’t understand what is happening her new dad was in trouble and she needs to find him to help. She sniffs certain things that Miguel wore the other day and recognizes his so she can fallow the scent as Jessica sneakily left the building without you or Lyla knowing.

Spider-Man is losing this fight of robbers and using enough of his skills that he has against the few but this one robber wasn’t giving up easily heck Miguel fang didn’t even have an effect on the guy which is kinda scary for him “lookie, lookie” that guy said with a disgusting grin as he picked up a exhausted spider man “I’m going to be the first one to destroy you spider man” as he about throw Miguel out of the building the robber dropped him on the floor as he screams in pain . “Something just bit my arse!!” Those word made Miguel look up and see what happened, what he saw was both funny and unexpected thing he saw, Jessica in that spider man dog costume biting the robber and barking /growling fearlessly at the man to save him “I got this “ he said as he finished the robber off and Jessica hops on to them giving them the scariest growl ever making Miguel smile underneath the mask “ I guess I was wrong about you little Jessica, you aren’t just someone stealing my girl heart away from me” picking up Jessica as police are about to come in to arrest the criminals “you helped me on a sticky situation , you are hero on this one spider pup” with that he holds the spider pup close to him not letting it fall out of his grasp as he and the spider pup return home

Back at home you woke up from your nap to hear nothing not a whimper from Jessica or any grumpy tired groan from Miguel which made you worried about them , you rushed into the living space where you stopped and see your Miguel sleeping in his spider suit unmasked but letting Jessica cuddle up next to him. That made you smile that both the pup and your boyfriend are finally getting along together.

~fin

a/n: my first ever request is done and I hope you all enjoyed reading this oh and also I leave you with this picture of cuteness

#miguel o'hara x reader #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #request

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sook9i · 1 year

Text

— I SAID LOOK

. . . GENRE ! yeonjun x afab!reader | smut

. . . CONTAINS ! dom!yj, sub!reader, implied edging, fingering, mirror sex, choking, yj kinda rough, some marking (tried to keep readers skin color ambiguous as possible tho is it described that red from bite marks can be seen), finger sucking 😞, reader naked while jun is still semi-clothed, reader is a little…dazed, pet names (yeonjun called junnie; reader called baby, darling, handsome, pretty, & cute), i think that’s it lmk if i missed anything !

. . . WORD COUNT ! 772

. . . NOTES ! I hope you enjoy our first fic !! yeonjun posted that fucking photo and i lost all coherent thought 😵‍💫

. . . ADMIN ! written by fairy cal 🐱

“Come on, baby.” The voice is silky, devilish, right up behind your ear. “Look at me.”

Your head is filled to the brink with fog. All senses dulled and yet turned up to one hundred. The firm feeling of his thighs spread out beneath yours is driving you crazy. Yet the sound of his command swims in and out of your ears, never sticking. Your only response is to let out a high-pitched whine as you struggle to grind your hips back into his.

The movement is quickly brought to end as he delivers a sharp slap to the inside of your thigh, drawing out a gasp.

“No, darling,” His hand travels up your thigh and over your hips and stomach, fingers fleeting on your bare sternum, until a strong grip takes hold of your chin. “I said look.”

Your head is yanked away from his comforting shoulder, forced forward straight at the mirror. Yeonjun’s half-lidded eyes meet yours in the reflection. His black tresses dangle down into his sight-light, drawing more attention to the sly smirk hanging on his lips.

Oh how proud he is of himself to have you like this.

Focusing on yourself in the full-length, you see just how much damage he’s already done. Your neck is littered in red, unlikely to disappear for the next couple of days; Your thighs draped wide on top of his reveal the leaking wet in between them. He has you completely naked, while only his top remains bare. Looking into your eyes, the gaze is far away and you let out another soft whine. His other hand, draped upon your lap, inches ever closer to where you need him most. Still, he continues to refuse you.

He’d been so tired coming back into the hotel room. Shoulders sagging, eyes heavy, you wanted to do anything you could to make him feel better. Thinking maybe a massage or running him a bath perhaps. Three ruined orgasms later, you can barely think beyond how desperate you are for his touch.

“Aren’t you so handsome? Look at how pretty I’ve made my baby.” Suddenly so much more energetic the moment he had you in his lap, quickly submitting to every touch.

Two long fingers poke at your lips, signaling you to open them. You gladly do, letting the rough pads run across your tongue, pushing down the back of your throat. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. The gag reflex pushes back up your throat, you swallow it as it’s replaced with a whiny moan.

He pulls the fingers away and you quickly peel your eyes back open, watching dazedly as he trails them down to your clit. Keeping with a soft touch, he begins circling the nub, barely pressing down. He moves at a torturous pace. A mewl breaks out of your lips, squeaky and needy. The deep vibrations of his chuckle shake against your back. Every movement of his bare skin against you drives you deeper into a haze. The two fingers dip further down, spreading slick up and down your folds, toying at your wanting entrance.

“J-Junnie, please! Please, I’ll be so so good for you! Promise-Just please give me anything, please!” Your voice hikes up, feeling tears begin to bubble up in your eyes. Need taking over, your hips buck against his hold, trying for any sort of relief you can get.

“God,” Fingernails dig into your sides as he stops your movements. “You’re so fucking cute.”

In a moment his lips swallow up yours. Eating up every delicious moan that spills out once he finally pushes his fingers into you. The pace he sets is fast revealing a need comparable to yours. Two fingers stretch out your walls again and again with a slight sting, yet you still want more. Yeonjun seems to think the same as he soon adds in another. That draws out a moan which he lets ring out, pulling away from your lips and back down to your neck. There his teeth scrape on the red skin. Pain fogs up your senses until it leaks into aphrodisiacal pleasure. Bombarded with so many sensations when he places his thumb back to roll circles around your clit; your head lolls back onto his shoulder and your eyes screw shut. The sounds you release grow higher and louder with every second past. Your high creeps up closer and closer, so close to finally getting there.

Yeonjun’s free hand soon finds purchase tight around your neck; grip harsh when he squeezes and forces your head back up. “I told you to look, baby. Watch how I ruin you.”

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navstuffs · 1 year

Text

headcanons of leon adopting a dog (gn!reader)

warning: none, pure fluff, leon with dogs

Leon never shared your interest in adopting a dog. Despite every dog you met gravitating towards him, having a dog wasn't on his wish list. Due to his job, he didn't want to leave all responsibility in your hands.

So when your sister begs you to take care of Bowie, her brown labrador, you think it won't be a problem. Leon is away on a mission, you work from home and have been feeling pretty lonely. Besides, it is an emergency, and your sister will return soon. You just have to make sure there was no evidence of a dog in the house before Leon comes home. Which could take days, weeks, or months.

So you will be fine.

When your sister asks for a few extra days, you get a little nervous, thinking you might take the dog to a hotel. Bowie seems comfortable around the house like he belongs there, so you delay it.

When Leon finally comes home, exhausted, the only thing on his mind is relaxing in your arms after a shower, he hears taps on the floor in his direction and sees Bowie looking directly at him, his tail wagging excitedly.

Leon doesn't say anything, staring down at Bowie. Wasn't that your dog's sister? What is he doing there?

Bowie slowly approaches him, sniffing his pants and looking up with cute brown eyes. Leon knows anyone would have fallen immediately, but he doesn't, calling your name.

You run downstairs, watching Bowie tangle on Leon's legs. Your boyfriend looks astonished, and you have to muffle a laugh.

"I am sorry, I am sorry! My sister needed someone to take care of Bowie, and I offered. I thought he would be gone now, but she needed a few extra days."

Leon notices you are nervous, rubbing your hands together, anxiously awaiting his answer. Leon sighs, letting his bag on the floor, Bowie sniffling it. He walks toward you, pulling you into a hug.

"It is alright, sweetheart. I am not mad. It was an emergency. All good."

You let out a deep breath, hugging him back tightly. You were so relieved he was back in your arms and not angry. You two feel Bowie trying to join in on the hug.

You do your best to keep Bowie out of Leon's way the next few days, but the dog is obviously drawn to him. If Leon gets up, Bowie follows. After returning from your usual walks with him, Bowie immediately returns to Leon. You try to lure Bowie with treats, but after he eats them, he returns to Leon again.

(some part of you is getting jealous since you have been taking care of Bowie for quite some time and he chooses Leon like this. but can you blame them?)

One day, you have to run some errands. You tell Leon you can leave Bowie in the crate so he doesn't disturb him, but Leon says it is all good.

You try to finish as fast as you can. Before you go home, you get a pizza, drinks, and special doggie treats from Bowie. You don't hear Bowie taps to welcome you when you arrive home. After dropping everything on the kitchen counter, you call Leon.

You find both of them napping on the sofa, Bowie lying on top of Leon, his head comfortably on his chest. They look peaceful, Leon's features calm as his hand holds Bowie.

You don't know who you are more jealous of if Leon or Bowie, almost melting with how freaking cute they look. Leon looks so peaceful as well. You get your phone to take a few pictures before leaving them both to sleep.

After that, Bowie gets even more attached to Leon and vice-versa. Leon starts to join you and Bowie in walks, takes him on morning runs, and even suggests taking Bowie to a dog park. Leon feeds him, gives him baths, and suggests Bowie might need a toy.

If Leon is lying down on the sofa, Bowie always jumps on top of him. Leon would stroke Bowie's head and body until they both fell asleep.

The day Leon goes grocery shopping, he finds a toy for Bowie. Not a squeaky annoying one, but one he could throw for him.

When Leon returns home, he looks for Bowie. He finds you on your laptop in the living room. When Leon asks you where Bowie is, you scratch your head telling him anxiously your sister picked him up earlier.

"I am sorry you couldn't say goodbye. She was in a rush."

Leon doesn't reply, simply nodding and taking groceries to the kitchen. He doesn't speak much for the rest of the day, looking like the past depressed Leon.

One month pass until Leon has to leave for a mission again. You are sad to see him go, not knowing when you will see him again. At least you have enough time to prepare a surprise for him.

When Leon returns, he is surprised to hear the taps against the floor.

A mixed-breed puppy comes running to check on him. You follow close behind, watching Leon hold the puppy in his arms.

"His name is Prince. He is here temporarily if we don't want to stay with him."

"He stays."

"He stays then."

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy imagines #I HAVE FALLEN #HARD #I TRIED TO NOT WRITE #I TRIED TO REMAIN STRONG #but i can't #can you fucking imagine leon with dogs though? ESPECIALLY PUPPIES #my first leon something something #i have another two other projects for him that honestly are really good

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ambassadorarlert · 1 year

Text

3:15 AM

genre: fluff, domestic bliss warnings: emetophobia (baby vomit lol) word count: 1k a/n: prompt list. i've been seeing a lot of dadmin stuff and had to chime in. this totally isnt a self indulgent. not at all.

The only reason you had gotten out of bed was because you could hear the desperate wailing of an upset infant down the hall, and Armin was nowhere in sight. Your instincts pulled you to follow and investigate. You peeped through the crack of the nursery door, watching and listening to Armin pace across the floor and shushing desperately.

Armin was clearly struggling. You decided not to watch anymore, and opened the door. Armin jumped and quickly turned around when he heard the squeaky floorboard under your foot.

“What are you doing! You’re not supposed t-to be out of bed!” Armin gasped at the sight of you standing up.

You were taken aback by his appearance too. His eyes were red and swollen, as well as his cheeks that were tear stained. The baby girl, so little and so frail in his giant hands and strong arms, was just as crimson in the face as her father was. Her shrill cries echoed off of the walls, you almost covered your ears.

“Are you crying?” You asked. Armin blinked his eyelids rapidly. He looked between you and the baby, unsure of where to begin in describing the situation.

“I-” He stammered.

Only three days had passed since your little girl had been born, and Armin was still learning how to handle and care for a new baby. So far, he felt like he had been doing a good job. He changed every diaper, made sure her bottle was not too hot or cold, and always made sure to support her neck. Armin had even made her smile a few times when he used his pinky to tickle her nose.

Perhaps he thought that to himself too soon, as tonight she was quite unhappy. She toyed with Armin and the bottle. She’d sucked for a moment or two, then spit it back out. Maybe she just wasn’t that hungry, and she didn’t want to mindlessly naw on a pacifier either. Her pants were also clean. Armin sang, hummed, spoke to her sweetly. He asked her what the matter was as if she would outright tell him. No amount of rocking, swaying, or bouncing could satisfy her which made Armin’s anxieties spiral.

What if she was in pain? What if she had an itch she couldn’t scratch? What if there was nothing he could do? Or, worse, what if he was somehow the problem? The tears of defeat began to pour, he couldn’t hold them back if he tried. Intrusive and destructive thoughts fogged his vision. Was he really so useless that he couldn’t even make his own child happy? Armin wasn’t sure if it was just him, or if the baby's cries were getting louder. His elbows were growing sore from holding her for two hours straight. His temples were pounding like drums, and he was quite exhausted. This night would be his fourth all-nighter in a row.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong! She won’t s-stop crying, I’ve done ev-everything!” Armin hiccupped as he explained. His lips quivered and more salty tears raced down his cheeks.

“Let me take her.” You offered.

You met Armin in the middle, reaching out your arms to take the baby from him. The only relief he felt was stretching out his arms. A dark cloud of fatherhood rained on his shoulders. Once you had the baby comfortable, the crying eased but not by much. Armin went in to explain all the things he had done to try and sooth her as he helped you sit in the rocking chair in the corner. From what you understood, he had done everything right.

“Sometimes babies just cry.” You said simply. Armin’s frown deepened.

“Just… because?” He wondered.

You nodded. Armin found that hard to believe. He couldn’t imagine his precious little girl crying just because she felt like it. There had to be a reason, and there had to be something he could do. Armin twiddled with his fingers. He watched as you rocked back and forth, baby on your shoulder and patting her backside with your palm.

After a dozen or so pats, she let out a burp that could have come from a grown person. You both made shocked and unexpected faces at each other. You could feel her little frame deflate slightly against your shoulder. Silence suddenly fell, it made Armin’s ears ring. Bricks had been lifted from his chest. He let out a long, exasperated sigh. Before Armin could even ask, and you knew he would, you passed the baby back to him. He looked at you as if you had performed a miracle.

“You’re amazing.” He breathed, taking her back.

Just as Armin was bringing her to his chest, she spit up right onto his shirt. The soiled shirt did not bother him. How could he be mad anyway, she was just too cute now that she had expelled her discomfort. You clapped a hand to your lips to stop yourself from blatantly laughing out loud. Armin chuckled awkwardly.

“I believe she just puked half her body weight onto me.” Armin half-joked. The redness in his face had faded to a flush pink, and his eyes had cleared.

You stood up, taking the soiled baby from his arms again.

“I’ll handle this. You go change. Then, try and get some sleep.”

“I’ll be back in just a second.” Armin softly promised.

He put a kiss to your forehead gently, and then to the baby twice as much. You snorted as he stripped his shirt off before he could completely leave the room. You looked down at your daughter in your arms. Her eyes were starting to roll back, sleep finally calling to her. She had your hair color, lips and chin. However, her nose, eyes, and eyebrows were Armin’s. A perfectly split image of you both. You gave each of her little fists a kiss, as well as the bottoms of her wrinkly feet.

“You’re going to drive him mad, aren’t you?”

thank you. reblogs and feedback are appreciated! arlertwitch © 2023. all rights reserved. do not translate or repost any works by arlertwitch on any other platforms. violators will be prosecuted in accordance within the law.

#my writing #armin arlert #armin fluff #armin x reader #armin x you #armin x y/n #armin headcanons #armin x gn #armin x fem reader

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