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decaying-church · 8 months

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Slasher Nsfw Headcanons

(a/n: pretend I've been posting constantly this year :))

Pairing : Herbert West x male!reader, Vincent Sinclair x male!reader

Requested by @unspeakableoftheoscarwildesorr : Will you do a nsfw headcannons with vincent sinclaire and herbert west? It’s alright if you don’t want to. Please have a good day :))

Warning: bottom!slashers, top!reader, hair pulling, public play, Vincent's conservative upbringing, Vincent writes smut for you, bondage, mentions of chemical burns, getting caught multiple times (slight exhibitionist Herbert) sorry dan, breeding, aftercare

Characters: Herbert West, Vincent Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

He likes it when you watch him work, hovering over his shoulder, sometimes leaning on the table next to him. It makes him nervous, his hands fumbling a bit. If you tell him he was doing good and his brain would shut off.

He loves it when you praise him.

He also likes it when you run your hand over his back, whether you're giving him a massage or just feeling clingy he won't be able to focus on anything but you touching him.

Definitely a virgin when you met, but he knows about the general action of sex. Like the thing goes in the thing and then a baby comes out.

An utterly submissive bottom.

Before you met he figured that if he ever did end up having sex then he’d be the one doing all the work, as men do. (mmmh, conservative, yee-haw upbringing)

But then he met you, and he loved you, and you were both men, so his picture of what sex should be was completely shattered.

If you're generally smaller than him, he’ll try and be dominant. It won't work, the second you flirt with him or make a suggestive comment he goes weak in the knees.

He will make a single attempt at being on top before metaphorically throwing his hands up and going “well I tried”.

If your bigger, there is no attempt, there isn't even a thought of dominance, you were bigger- stronger, therefore you could do whatever you wanted to him and he would not complain (he will never tell you this because he knows you’d tell him otherwise but it honestly added an extra layer of excitement to everything)

The town is pretty empty so the two of you could essentially fuck anywhere.

You once joked about fucking in the middle of the road- and even though you were just joking, the thought of you holding him down on the old road, in front of all those houses, fucking him without a hint of modesty or secrecy genuinely plagued his dreams for several nights.

In reality, you’ve fucked in the gas station, in the movie theater, in the church, and in (or in more risky cases, against) the various houses around town.

Personally, I believe Vincent can talk, he’s just severely traumatized and doesn’t do it often, most days he communicates though groans, gestures, and forms of writing or drawing.

So, sometimes, when he wants you to try someone very specific with him, something too specific for him to say out loud, partially because of humiliation, but also because speaking was difficult for him, he will write it.

And not simple sentences either, he will go on and on about what he wants you to do to him, he’ll draw pictures, he’ll rant on for pages and pages.

The first time he did this you nearly read it out loud, you got about half a sentence in before realizing that no one else (especially Lester, who was just in the next room) needed to hear what he’d written for you.

Of course, with a set of quite specific instructions, you were able to make his every fantasy come true.

Vincent can genuinely go forever, round after round after round.

After years of being a recluse, he has a limit for how long he can go without some kind of stimulation.

Really, finally having someone who wants him and loves him above everybody else makes it a bit harder to continue the streak of celibacy he had before.

He can go about two weeks before he starts outright begging you to fuck him. Again, in great detail.

He doesn't have any prior experience so you'll have to teach him quite a few things.

The first time he asked you to tie him up he brought you some old ratty rope that would have torn his skin the moment things got too intense.

You have to ride out of tow a couple of times for supplies.

He is heartbroken every single time you leave, he always half expects you to just keep driving and never come back.

You always come back, much to Bo’s, who has to put up with Vincent being agiant baby whenever you leave, relief.

(if you ever actually leave Vincent, Bo will hunt you down. Despite everything he does love his brother)

He has a pretty average set of kinks, he likes being praised, tied up, and fucked within an inch of consciousness. He like it when you pull his hair and call him pretty, he likes getting fucked in places he shouldn’t, and he likes it when you leave marks on him.

Aftercare fiend, he’s not a pillow princess but you’d think he was with the way that he’d just lay there, fully fucked out, waiting for you to take care of him.

If you’re someplace where you can’t fully take care of him, (I.e. any other place you’ve fucked outside of your bedroom) he will become extremely flustered. Because that means he has to travel however far away you are from your bedroom in this state. And you could be several houses away or just a couple rooms away but he doesn’t consider either to be more or less embarrassing.

The state he’s in could varies depending on what you did, he could just have ruffled hair and messy clothes, or he could be walking around with a limp with every inch of visible skin covered in bruises.

Herbert West

A very busy man that doesn't like being interrupted while working.

That being said, he will sit on your cock while he's working.

He’ll tease you, act like he’s ready to get his back blown out against his desk, only for him to keep you inside while he works, shifting every so often, fully ignoring how hard he was in favor of chemicals and mildly unethical plans.

You might be able to fully pull him away from work if you give him an explicit rundown of all of the things you were going to do to him.

It'll distract him to the point that he just gives up, grabbing you by the shirt and pulling you in for a kiss.

Most of your “interactions” in his lab were just the two of you humping like animals on the nearest flat surface, which could be anything, a desk, the floor, the wall.

The two of you had so many chemical burns that could have been avoided simply by moving to his bedroom, you think the two off you would learn your lesson after the first time- you didn’t.

Herbert did not care what Dan heard or saw.

This was his house too after all. He could fuck wherever he wanted.

You’ve be caught by Dan an embarrassing amount of times.

Herbert from time to time will treat you like an experiment.

Don’t be surprised if he strips you down and asks to run some “test”

Herbert really, really likes oral.

He loves it when you guide him, one hand in his hair, slowly pulling him back and forth on your cock.

He is not immune to pet names.

Honey, baby, sweetheart, darling. The list goes on.

While he certainly likes those names, nothing captures his attention quite like you calling him “doctor”

This would be extremely inconvenience if you also worked at the hospital (the number of quickies had in closets/labs/bathrooms is downright disposable)

If you don't, you do it purely to tease him.

Leaning in close, telling him all the disgusting things you want to do to him, then just, “come on, Doctor West, don't you think you deserve a break?”

Herbert is definitely a switch with a preference for power bottoming.

He's in control while also getting fucked sideways, it's perfect for him.

When he is feeling fully submissive he will beg you to breed him.

He knows he can't necessarily be bred, but he likes the feeling of you cumming in him over and over.

Every position he likes, he likes for a very specific reason.

He likes missionary because he can leave marks all over your back, he likes being bent over the table so he has something to rest against when his legs inevitably gave out, he liked getting fucked on the wall because he liked how frantic and desperate it felt.

He will not flirt or try and sugarcoat what he wants, he doesn't care who hears, if he wants you to fuck him, he's going to tell you.

Herbert says he doesn’t like slow sex, but there’s been a couple of times when he hits a road block with his research and he’s frustrated and overwhelmed by everything and everyone and he just wants you to make it better.

You can’t necessarily help with the research but you could help him relax.

The way he reacts to aftercare changes drastically throughout your relationship.

When you first got together, he didn’t want you near him, don’t touch him, don’t talk to him, don’t look at him. Even though his legs were shaking violently and his body felt like it was on fire he insisted that he could handle everything himself.

There was somehow always water and food for him though, he figured it was a coincidence (leave him alone, his brain isn’t working at full capacity at the moment)

Further into you’re relationship he will definitely still be a brat about it, but less so. He’ll let you clean him, feed him, praise him. And on some of the more intense days, you’re gonna be carrying him around like a princess.

He “hates it”, but the moment you try and leave him to fend for himself, he gets even more irritated.

If it’s one of those days where you’re both bone tired afterwards then he’ll let you cuddle with him, he won’t initiate it, but he’ll enjoy it .

Kinktober 2023

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blue-slxt · 7 months

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Kinktober 11

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: This one really scratched an itch I didn't know I had. I just keep learning more about myself in this fandom lol. I hope you guys enjoy this one! All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: cnc?, Ropes, Restraints, Oral, (F receiving), P in V, Breeding Kink, Squirting, Creampie, Roleplaying, Neteyam being an aftercare king

You stir awake to the sound of rustling around you and the sensation of something tightening around your wrists. When you open your eyes, it’s still the middle of the night, but you snap fully to your senses when you catch sight of Neteyam’s figure looming over you. You try to use your hands to touch him, but find that you can’t move your arms.

“N-Neteyam?...” Your arms strain a bit and you’re met with resistance. Looking up, you see that you’re tied to one of the posts of your kelku preventing you from using your hands.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t want to wake you. I just…just needed you so bad…” he says lust heavy in his voice as his hands start to run up and down your body. He squeezes at your hips and chest and thighs and ass and anywhere else he pleases.

You’re too embarrassed to keep looking at him when he starts to kiss and lick at your nipples and mutters to himself about how soft you feel. Your hands want to cover your face, but he has you secured tight. You finally look at him again when you feel his thumbs hook around your tewng and start to slide it down your hips. You attempt to close your legs to stop him, but he easily overpowers you and keeps your legs open for him.

“Tey, wait…” you start to protest, but he’s clearly not listening when he hikes your legs up to your chest by back of your knees and dips his head between your thighs.

“Ah!...”

Soft, breathless whispers and mumbles about how sweet you taste and how badly he wants you come from Neteyam between the open mouth kisses he places on your cunt.

“Mmm, wanna fill you up. Make you pregnant…fuck…” he breathes while he starts to undo his own tewng. “Neteyam, don’t…” you whine, but it’s no use. His eyes are half-lidded and his pupils wide as he stares down at you pulling helplessly against your restraints. He’s already lining himself up with your dripping pussy. One of his hands cups your cheek and he gently shushes you.

“It’ll be okay, sevin. Just let me use you for a bit, yeah?” he says

“B-but—Ah!” your words are cut of by Neteyam sinking into you. With how wet you are, you can literally hear the sound of each inch stretching you open. Neteyam bottoms out in you with a groan feeling your cervix kissing the head of his cock. His hips start moving almost in their own thrusting into you.

Your head starts to spin with every push of his hips. You can’t stop the small mewls that slip past your lips.

“See, doesn’t it feel good, narlor?” he coos from above you. “So wet for me…” his chin drops to his chest watching how your pussy opens up to take him over and over.

“Nete—Haah! Neteyam, what are you doing?” it takes all your focus to form a single coherent sentence as you start to feel that familiar pressure building in your core.

“Just wanna give you a baby so bad.” He’s losing himself to the pleasure as his speed increases. The sound of skin smacking against skin fills the air while he pounds into you.

“Mmm! Mmf! Tey…you shouldn’t!” you say wiggling under him still struggling to use your arms. The rope he has you tied with is starting to dig into your skin, but the sensation of it starts to get lost under the thick blanket of hormones covering your mind.

“Need…haah, need to fill you up with my baby. Need you pregnant…” he’s devolving into a rambling mess, fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow.

Your toes start to curl feeling that pressure intensify inside of you. You can’t even form the words to get it out and tell him before one of his hands is pressing into your lower abdomen so he can physically feel how deep he’s buried in your cunt. The pressure behind your belly explodes squirting out all over his pelvis and thighs. You mindlessly babble his name over and over as you cum.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so sexy. Argh, shit! I’m going to cum!” he says watching your contorting face.

Your eyes squeeze shut relinquishing yourself to your fate. There’s no escaping the ties around your wrists or the bruising hold Neteyam has on you.

“Open your eyes, sevin. I want you to watch me while I breed you.” He says. He ruts his hips into you hard, punching your sweet spot and making your eyes fly open to look at him. His mouth is open in panting breaths before his rhythm finally falters and heat spreads in your lower half. A deep growl leaves his throat as he lets rope after rope of his thick cum spill into you. His hips keep moving languidly pumping more back into you.

Even when he stops, he doesn’t pull out of you, but instead he just sits there still inside of you while he attempts to catch his breath.

A wild smile spreads across your face when he looks at you.

“How was that?” he asks, chest still heaving.

“That was perfect , my love” you tell him making him snort out a laugh.

“You know, yawne, you have the strangest requests sometimes.” He says leaning down and kissing your forehead.

You scrunch your nose at him, “Whatever, you were so into it. Now, get back in character”.

He playfully rolls his eyes at you knowing he can never say no to you.

“Teyam, c-can you untie me now, please?” you ask meekly, resuming your little game.

“Not yet, sevin. We have to make sure it takes, don’t we?” he says giving you one hard thrust. And true to his word, Neteyam spent hours ravishing your body and filling you to the brim with his seed until you were a writhing pile of mush and even beyond that.

In the end, once both of you were completely spent, Neteyam finally released you from your ties. Your skin burned where the ropes had scraped against your wrists and ankles. Joints were sore from the numerous positions he would contort you into. And your core throbbed from the almost endless pounding you had endured.

He took his time tending to you afterwards. He cleaned you gently with a wet cloth, made sure you drank plenty of water and had something to eat before climbing onto the sleep mat with you and holding you close into his chest.

“We should do this again some time” he suggests with a lighthearted laugh.

“Fine, but next time, I get to tie you up.”

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dawn-moths · 5 months

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Wriothesley x Female Reader

word count: 3000+

(Even after serving your time in the Fortress of Meropide and deciding to return to your life in Fontaine, you still have good reason to drop in and give the Duke a visit from time to time.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! smut, reader is handcuffed with a belt, sub/dom dynamics, fingering, doggy-style (vaginal sex), aftercare.

*ao3 mirror*

***

As Wriothesley tugged his belt free from the loops in his trousers, slow and methodical, he cracked a smirk and huffed out a short breath of a laugh, his voice echoing faintly throughout the room when he said, “Hey, you like magic tricks, don’t you?”

He knows you do. You wouldn’t stop talking about Lyney and Lynette’s latest performance— the deadly precision, the dazzling display of showmanship, the subversion of expectation that left you wonderstruck each and every time. So, when you gave a cute little smile and an eager nod, perking up at the prospect of potential entertainment, well…

The Duke just couldn’t help himself.

He was standing at the bottom of the staircase, biding his time, having enjoyed the view of you immersed deep into some fantasy world between a bundle of dog-eared pages, not a care or concern in the world other than what would become of the fictional characters you’d quickly grown attached to. About an hour or so ago, he’d told you to entertain yourself while he went off to attend to some urgent business, “Shouldn’t take long,” he’d said, and had slipped back into his office without you even noticing. Now, as you stared at him with awaiting, curious eyes, he flexed the belt in his hands, gently testing its strength and give.

With a playful, beckoning wave of a gloved hand, he said, “Come ‘ere. I wanna show you something…” and you obediently obliged, rising from your seat behind his big desk, leaving your latest literary adventure lying open-faced on the tabletop, to follow after him down the winding spiral staircase and into the bedroom that was hidden below. Wriothesley gripped the strap of burgundy leather tightly in his hands, his fists flexing over it as if trying to contain his eagerness once you were standing before him by the bed, hands lightly clasped behind your back, staring up at him with those big, innocent doe-eyes that made him go a little insane inside.

“Now, watch very closely…” the Duke instructed, though with an air of light mockery as he pretended to sound like the magicians you were so taken by as of late. You hummed out a little giggle at his imitation and watched as he slipped the end of the belt back through the buckle, tugging it through and threading it back around to repeat the first motion, creating a sort of figure 8 design before wrapping the remainder of the leather all the way around and securing it through the middle of the buckle one final time. “Now, hold out your hands.”

You gave him an inquisitive yet distrusting look, but even before your brain could finish coming up with possible outcomes of where this trick might lead, you were obeying his command and presenting him with both of your wrists side by side out in front of you.

The moment he slipped the widened gaps of the contraption he’d created around your delicate wrists, quickly pulling the loose end he’d looped through the buckle last to cinch the leather flush against your skin, you realized you’d walked right into his trap.

You let out a startled gasp and made small sounds of struggle as you tried to tug your wrists free, but to no avail. Wriothesley let out another one of those silky, sonorous chuckles that sent the flock of butterflies in your tummy aflutter, despite the fact you felt a little betrayed by him weaponizing your naivety against you.

“Really walked into that one, didn’t ya?” he rhetorically asked, crossing his arms and allowing himself to watch your pitiful attempts at escape for a little longer.

“This isn’t magic, it’s just a trick!” you accused, brows pinched slightly in an irritated scowl, still helpless against the worn leather.

“Ah, but, if you’d been paying attention,” Wriothesley began, holding up a finger in accentuation as he strode a few smooth paces closer, “you’d recall I never said I was showing you a magic trick. I simply asked if you liked magic tricks, then said I wanted to show you something.” He looped his extended pointer finger into one of the gaps, lightly pulling your bound wrists and, along with them, yourself, closer toward him.

Lowing his voice to what sounded like nearly a growl, some kind of sinister satisfaction flashing behind his silver gaze, he said, “See what happens when you make baseless assumptions?”

Honestly, Wriothesley was impossible sometimes. Whether it was his mind games or technicalities, he always seemed to find new ways of getting you right where he wanted you while making you do most of the work.

“Ok, show’s over,” you droned, giving him a blatantly unamused look now. “Let me go.”

To this, the Duke merely scoffed.

“Let you go?” he repeated, as if the notion was the most preposterous thing he’d heard all week. He clicked his tongue, shook his head, giving the cuffs another teasing tug, lips splitting into a crookedly amused grin when you let out a quiet, helpless gasp. “Now where’s the fun in that? Besides, I think you know better than most…” He leaned in, lips right beside your ear, and whispered, low and husky, “My prisoners are treated rather well here…”

“I’m not your prisoner,” you reminded him. “At least… Not anymore.”

Because, yes, while you’d once lived under his rule and his reign for the crime you’d committed, those days were now behind you. You’d served your sentence and then chosen to return to the outside world. You’d rather missed your friends and family in Fontaine and, while you’d considered yourself lucky to have gotten into good company with the Duke, you also felt you couldn’t just leave your old life completely behind you.

Hence why you only made trips down into the depths of the Fortress of Meropide for these very special, though oftentimes short visits. You’d gotten a taste of something in this place that the outside world just didn’t have to offer. But, if anyone else had ever been in your position, you doubted they could blame you for indulging the addiction.

“Ok then,” Wriothesley bartered. “Why don’t we make a deal then? You have the next five minutes to get out of these, and if you do, I’ll give you a special prize…” He narrowed his gunmetal gaze at you, something playfully cruel shimmering amidst all that mischievous silver. “But if you can’t, well—” He gave a nonchalant shrug and finished with a rather confident, “then I guess you’ll have to give me something instead.”

“Alright,” you agreed, lifting one eyebrow and now wearing a smirk yourself. “Challenge accepted.” And when you’d entered willingly into his little game, you’d really thought you’d stood a chance. How hard could it be to get out of handcuffs made of leather anyway? It’s not like he’d clapped the metal ones you knew he always kept on his person around your wrists instead. Those, as you’d experienced first hand, were absolutely inescapable.

But as the minutes passed, you struggling more and more with each one that ticked by, Wriothesley keeping an eye on his watch as he leaned back against the wall opposite the bed, eyes flicking up to watch you writhe and grunt as you tried and failed to pull your wrists free, you were beginning to regret being so cocky.

Besides, Wriothesley had never been one to let someone beat him at his own game.

“And… Three… Two… One,” Wriothelsey announced, marking the end of the challenge and your loss of the bet. “Better luck next time, hon,” he said through a mocking pout, looking only half apologetic for a second before approaching you again. “Guess it’s time you give the winner his prize.”

His tall shadow swallowed your form, eyes staring up at him in that delectably pleading, helpless way he’d grown so addicted to back when you were one of his inmates. Your face said you were awaiting punishment but your body was anticipating pleasure, that warm, rolling feeling of arousal tightening in your lower belly.

“Oh…” you rolled your eyes as Wriothesley pinned you to his bed, cuffed wrists clasped in one of his big, rough hands above your head. “And to think,” you teased, “that you’d be so predictable now.”

Wriothesley flashed you a dangerous look, one of a sharp-toothed smirk and half-lidded eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dim light, clicking his tongue as if disappointed in you, increasing his grip on the cuffs while he began to undo the button on his trousers with the other.

“So mouthy today,” he remarked, that familiar growl laced into his tone. The one that warned you you were on thin fucking ice. The one that you often ignored, kept on pushing just to see how far he’d let you go. More often than not, this earned you double the original punishment he’d had in store for you, but secretly, you liked that. Once Wriothesley had caught onto that fact, it hadn’t stopped him. He’d just learned how to twist things so he got to have a little fun too. “Guess I’ll have to remind you what happens when you talk back…”

Cock already hard and aching as he gripped it in his hand, you gasped when he roughly hiked up your skirt and grinded his erection against your dampening panties, your breath hitching in your chest every time his velvety tip brushed against your swollen, sensitive little clit, wanting more, needing more.

And Wriothesley knew he’d soon have you exactly where he wanted you. That defiant attitude of yours reduced to nothing more than a chorus of pathetic whines and pleading for him to “get inside me, please— Please, Wrio, I need it!”

And he’d give you what he wanted. No matter how much he tried to act cold and callous you knew he had a soft spot just for you. But before he did, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t use the opportunity to make you squirm just for the hell of it.

“Awww, what’s the matter, sweetheart?” the Duke cooed, words dripping with saccharine condensation. He used both hands to secure your hips as he grinded down against you harsher than before, nearly knocking the breath from his own lungs as he sighed out a strained, “Suddenly— fuck— at a loss for words?”

You were desperately trying to cant your hips upwards to gain more friction, but his firm grip on you made that impossible. You’d completely forgotten he’d let go of your wrists, though they were still securely bound, merely chasing the fleeting pleasure he was reluctantly granting you.

“Ok… Ok, Wrio, please—” you finally broke, sentence clipped off into a delicate, musical little mewl, soft as a feather floating on a breeze. “Please, I’ll be good, just— Please—”

Wriothesley couldn’t take much more of this either, so, per your unclarified request, he swiftly pushed your soaked panties aside and slipped two of his thick digits into your weeping cunt, sucking in a small hiss of a breath through clenched teeth when he curled his fingers inside and felt how tight your pussy was trying to squeeze him, craving something bigger to fill it up.

You shivered, already beginning to feel that tight coil in your core pulling taut, mouth hanging open in silent ecstasy, huffing out panting little breaths and eyes rolling beautifully as your back began to arch off the firm mattress. Wriothesley’s skilled fingers worked you over like it’s what they’d been designed to do, the calloused pad of his thumb rubbing rough circles over your pulsing little bud, gaze glued to your leaking little hole, mesmerized by how gorgeous you were like this, completely bent to his will.

“Archons, baby…” He said, soft and in awe like reciting a prayer, spreading your slick around like an artist creating his next masterpiece. “What am I gonna do with you?”

Fuck me, you wanted to answer. Fuck me until all I know is you, you, and nothing but you.

Wriothesley then seemed to come to some kind of conclusion, the contemplation shining in his eyes as fast and as bright as a shooting star. Then, he was gripping your hips again and flipping you over, instructing you to stay on your elbows and knees as he lined himself up with your fluttering entrance.

“Wrio…?” you asked, his name sounding fragile and broken and confused as it left your succulent little mouth.

He hushed you, gentle and reassuring, suddenly gone all sweet and soft for you like he usually tended to do, once he was done playing his games with you. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, leaning over you to press his warm, broad chest against your back. “Just trust me.”

Slowly, carefully, he began to nudge his way into your needy little hole, wrapping his arms around you and helping you to adjust until you found the position that felt the best for the both of you. Then, once he was fully inside and you were recovered from the sweet, stinging stretch of him, Wriothesley began to move, the motion of his hips smooth and intentional, nearly pulling all the way out before pushing back in, the rhythm gaining more speed every couple of thrusts.

By now, a thin sheen of sweat had broken out on both your brows, your legs beginning to tremble when he grazed over that sweet, spongy spot deep inside you, the one you could never quite reach on your own. Still holding you close, he used one hand to massage more skillful circles onto your already overstimulated little bundle of nerves, the pressure ebbing and flowing between soft and hard, trying to keep your orgasm at bay for just a little longer.

“Wrio—” you moaned, all pliable and angelic and all his, his, his.

“Almost there, baby—? God—!” The air was punched from Wriothesley’s lungs upon his next thrust, his normally sure and even voice cracked and fissured by a strangled whine, movements beginning to become erratic as he neared his own edge. He tightened his arms around your body, trying to hold you impossibly close, truly become one with you, as if your soul could melt right into his like two pieces of candy left out too long in the sun, gooey and combined and no longer distinguishable from one another, only known henceforth as their own unique, singular entity.

“‘M gonna—!” You suddenly gasped, your silky walls clenching around his cock hard enough to lace his next breath with a beautiful whimper, both your bodies tensing under the shared release, soaking and filling each other to the brim with each other’s balmy pleasure.

You went slack in Wriothesley’s hold, which didn’t lessen an inch until he’d found his way back to reality, temporarily blinded by the all-encompassing sensation of bliss your body always gifted him. Once his vision could focus and his brain could think, he carefully pulled out of you, allowing you to lower all the way down to the mattress, completely spent and limbs like jelly.

The Duke unfastened the belt-cuffs from around your wrists, tossing the twisted mangle of leather aside and laying across from you, tenderly taking your sore, slightly chafed wrists in his grasp and placing tender kisses along the thin, delicate skin, murmuring little praises to you that you barely registered in your fucked-out state.

“So good for me… Always so good for me…” he hummed, his chaste, closed mouth kisses traveling further up your arms as if he intended to place his lips to every inch of you. “My perfect, perfect girl…”

You were pulled back to earth by the time his lips found yours, parting them for him as if on instinct, tethered by the way his tongue refamiliarized itself with the shape of your mouth.

It was languid, messy, threatening to stir up that honey-dipped lust for him that never seemed to abate inside of you again. But then Wriothesley pulled away, only far enough to gaze lovingly into your eyes, smiling— actually smiling— to himself at the sight of you, glowing with a post-sex haze.

“Wrio…?” you spoke, voice like a butterfly’s wing.

“Hmm…?” he hummed, gently brushing the back of his knuckles along your soft cheek.

“Do you…” You hesitated then, knowing the question was one you were afraid to ask. Had been afraid to ask for a while, only because you knew his answer could possibly change the path of your fate. You swallowed hard, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to bask in his gentle touches for a few strokes longer. Then you said, “Do you ever wish I would’ve stayed?”

Wriothesley’s ministrations paused, something unreadable now swimming in all that entrancing silver. He threaded his long fingers through your hair, bringing his forehead to rest against yours, taking in a long, deep breath just to share the same air as you.

“I only wish I could go with you,” he murmured, the confession barely a whisper, so quiet, as if he were afraid the very admittance would sink the Fortress to the very bottom of the sea. Then he opened his eyes, leaned back a few inches to meet yours again, and added on a solemn, “Sometimes…”

You wrapped your arms around him then, wanting to keep him close, wanting to lay here like this with him forever. But eventually, you drifted off to sleep. When you did, Wriothesley only allowed himself to stay beside you a few minutes longer before going to tend to cleaning both of you up, wiping away the mess between your legs you two had made as gently as possible so he wouldn’t wake you. He knew, when you rose, you’d have to say your goodbyes and return to the surface.

“Not goodbye,” you’d always remind him after your parting kiss, giving him one of those innocent little smiles that made him wonder how you’d ever survived this place at all, your eyes glittering with affection. “Only until next time.”

Until next time, Wriothesley thought. And then, how lucky I am to have earned a next time.

***

(Honestly, I just saw a video of someone making handcuffs with a belt and thought, “You know who would do that… Wriothesley,” lol

But anyway, I hope you enjoyed and are having as much fun with the new Fontaine characters as I am heehee :)

Hope everyone has a wonderful day!)

#wriothesley #genshin impact wriothesley #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #wriothesley smut #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 years

Text

rest ~ evan peters

word count: 1737

request?: no

description: after taking yet another role that is taxing on his mental health, his girlfriend convinces him to rest

pairing: evan peters x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of death, mentions of d*hmer (the person, but also the show), mainly just comfort

masterlist (one, two)

When Evan told you he was going to be in the tenth season of American Horror Story, you felt a little weary for him. He had only taken one season away from the show to focus on his mental health, and that time away had really seemed to be helping him. You knew you couldn’t stop him if he felt ready to go back to the show, but you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to go back so soon.

Your feelings towards him returning to AHS were one thing, but your feelings when he told you about the newest role that Ryan Murphy had offered him on an entirely different level.

“He asked you to play...Jeffrey Dahmer?” you questioned.

“Yeah. He’s doing a mini series with Netflix about him,” Evan said. His voice sounded like he was trying to convince you that he was excited to do the series, but his face and his body language said something completely different.

“And you’re...okay with that?” you asked. “I mean, do you want to play Dahmer? You know how much of a fucked up person he was. This isn’t just a made up killer for a season of American Horror Story.”

“I know, but I think that’s what’s drawing me to the role. I want to tell this story, and I want to tell it right. That’s what Ryan wants, too.”

“But are you sure this is a good move? I mean, you told Ryan you wanted to take time away from playing these types of characters after Cult. Maybe you should tell him to get someone else for the role.”

“I’ll be fine, (Y/N). I think this will be a good role for me.”

He smiled at you, but it wasn’t a real smile. You wanted to point that out to him, but he already had his say on the matter so you figured it was best to drop the subject. If Evan thought he’d be okay to play the role, then maybe he would be. There wasn’t much else you could do now that he had signed the contract and was preparing for filming to begin.

But as the time went on and he continued to film Dahmer, you wished you had said something to try and convince him against this decision, or even to convince him to wait some more time before he committed to the role.

From the very first day of filming you could tell that the role was taking its toll on Evan. When he came home from filming he would be very quiet and would claim to be too tired for anything else and would just want to go to bed. You had seen this behavior once before and that was back when he was playing Kai on the seventh season of AHS. That was the role that really tipped him over the edge mentally, and you were worried that he was about to go through that mental turmoil again.

One night, he texted you to tell you he’d be home early from work. You decided to make dinner for the two of you and planned out a movie night to help him unwind after what you were sure was another long and tough day of filming.

You were in the middle of cooking when you heard the door open and footsteps approaching.

“Hey sweetheart!” you called. “I’m almost finished dinner if you don’t mind a short wait.”

“I’m sorry, babe, but I’m not all that hungry right now.”

You looked over your shoulder and felt your heart drop to your stomach.

Evan looked worn down and exhausted. The bottom of his eyes were red as if he had been crying, or were about to cry, and he had them trained on the floor, unable to meet your eye.

You abandoned your cooking to rush over and take him in your arms. The minute you wrapped him in a hug, it was almost like every inch of tension washed away from him. He leaned into your touch, burying his head in the crook of your neck and holding you in his arms. You could feel his body shuddering slightly as he began to cry.

Your heart ached for Evan. You knew he felt like he couldn’t turn this role down, but you really wish he had. You knew his mental health couldn’t take much more of this. But he was stubborn, and Ryan was persuasive.

After a while, you pulled away from the embrace and took Evan’s hands in yours. You led him out of the kitchen and up to the main bathroom. Evan watched with confusion and some interest as you sat him down on the closed toilet lid and started to run a bath for him. While the tub was filling, you went back to the kitchen to turn off the oven and put the dinner you had been making away to be reheated later, then went back to the bathroom to join Evan again.

“Are you gonna join me in there?” he asked as you started to turn off the water. There was a playful tone in his voice that you were glad to hear.

You turned to smile at him over your shoulder. “Do you want me to join you?”

In response, he reached for your shirt and pulled it over your head. You giggled and helped him take his clothes off as well. Evan lowered himself into the hot water first, then extended his arms for you to get in between his legs. Your body welcomed the feeling of the hot water enveloping you as you laid back against his chest.

Evan played with your hair for a while as you felt the tension starting to leave his body. Neither of you spoke, but the quiet was almost comforting. You didn’t need to speak in order to enjoy one another’s presence.

Finally, you broke the silence to ask him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He let out something that sounded like a grunt in response and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“It’s just...hard,” he finally said, moving both arms to wrap around your torso. “It’s a hard role to play.”

“You knew it’d be hard though,” you said, moving your head so that you could look up at him.

“I guess I just never thought it would be this hard,” he admitted. “It’s different than playing the characters I’ve played on AHS. This isn’t a character; it’s a real person who did these things to innocent people. I keep reading the script and thinking about the victims and their families who are still alive. I think of all the pain they went through during this time. I...I sometimes have nightmares after filming where I am Daher and not just playing him. It’s just so fucking hard.”

You moved around carefully so that you didn’t splash too much water over the sides of the tub and positioned yourself so that you were straddling Evan’s lap. You took his face in your hands, gently tilting it upwards so he could look at you.

“You should take a long break from Ryan after this,” you told him.

He sighed and shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can, Evan. He’s not holding a gun to your head and forcing you to play these roles. You can do just fine without him. You already know that considering you won your first Emmy for a show that he didn’t produce.”

“But he’s the one who helped kickstart my career. Without that first season of AHS, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

“That doesn’t mean you owe him anything. He was very respectful when you told him you wanted to take a break from AHS before, I’d doubt that has changed.”

Evan sighed again and pulled you towards him, resting his head against your chest. You placed a kiss on the top of his smoothed down curls and placed your chin on top of his head.

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” you said, “but I just hate seeing you like this. You don’t deserve to be struggling this way.”

“I know.” He lifted his head to look up at you again. “I hope you know how much I love you.”

You smiled. “I have a bit of an idea.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N). I feel like I don’t tell you enough, but I love you so much and I appreciate everything that you’ve done and that you continue to do for me. Sometimes I worry that I’m too much for you to handle.”

You cupped his face again and made him look directly into your eyes. “You are not too much, don’t say that. I love you and I care about you so much. You deserve to have people in your life who worry this much for you. I’ll always be by your side no matter what because it is what you deserve.”

You kissed the tip of his nose for effect and giggled when he scrunched up his face. He pulled your face towards his, pressing his lips against your. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his wrapped around your waist, holding each other so tightly to you that you were almost crushing each other into one person.

You gasped into the kiss as you felt something poking at you between your legs. When you pulled away, you saw a tint of pink on Evan’s cheeks. You couldn’t help but smirk at him.

“Seems he’s not too upset,” you teased.

“What can I say? I have a beautiful woman sat on my lap, completely naked, kissing me so passionately you’d think she’d never kiss me again. I can’t help how he reacts to it.”

You shifted on Evan’s lap in a way that earned you a low groan from him. You felt some pride from getting that noise out of him swell up within you.

“Well, maybe we can help get rid of some of that tension another way,” you suggested. “Maybe somewhere a little more dry.”

That was all Evan needed to hear before he picked you up carefully with one arm, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you off to your shared bedroom.

Both the bath and the unfinished dinner soon became long forgotten.

#evan peters #evan peters imagine #evan peters x reader #imagine #one shot #comfort #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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tilvcei · 1 year

Text

► 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

⭢ In which: you become ghostface newest target but figure out who’s been behind it all the whole time which shocks you, you loved ethan but he was so obsessed, maybe you were his everything.

☆ | Warning(s): blood , gore , death , suggestive language

☆ | note: when I saw Jack champion as Ethan Landry? I became obsessed recently. now I have a huge obsession with his character. and you will too ;)

☆ | gender: she/her (reader)

You had love for Ethan. you really did. but when it came down to certain things you didn’t like talking about, he dropped the topic. and that’s what you appreciated about him.

But also, he was crazy about you. feral if that’s what you wanna call it. very protective — yes he has that shy demeanor but when you actually take a good look at him in this moment? you can see he isn’t that innocent. if he can kill, he can do much more.

You just saw him twist someone’s guts. why wasn’t it obvious to you before? he was part of the killings. as well as Quinn and their father. the whole family was crazy, Sam got you tangled all into this but it wasn’t her fault you agreed to this anyways.

At the moment you were standing in the middle of Tara and Sam as they were surrounded by the family of Richie. you could see the anger and rage in their eyes. you get it, they lost their brother due to sam killing him. but he was so obsessed with the movies, it was his fault. not hers.

"He was obsessed with the movies! it wasn’t like sam had a choice. he attacked her first, what was she supposed to do? not fight back in her defense?" you questioned, your arm was still bleeding from when Quinn ‘accidentally’ stabbed you.

Ethan turned to you, "you’re really going to let that bitch put that in your pretty little mind? she’s the one in the wrong. Richie did nothing wrong! nothing! And she fucking killed him without any regret. she’s just like her damn father." Tara put a hand on your shoulder but Ethan glared at her.

"Don’t. don’t you fucking touch her!" Ethan yelled, Tara pushed you behind her while staring down Ethan, “No, no you stay the fuck away from her!” she yelled back, Ethan kept glaring at her.

"You keep gettin’ in the way. but I’m gonna fix that real soon, Tara." Ethan threatened, you backed away in fear. what happened to the Ethan you once loved and knew? what happened to the shy Ethan? the dorky one?

He then looked over at you with a smile, he looked at the blood on the knife and realized it was yours. his face turned into one of concern.

"Oh, baby I’m sorry if I hurt you. it wasn’t even aimed at you, it was for Sam. but here, cause Y’know, I love you so much." Ethan said with a crazed laugh.

He licked the blood from the knife, moaning while he did so which caught you off guard. Tara looked at him like he was crazy, what the actual hell was wrong with him..?

"Run!" Sam yelled, Tara grabbed your hand and the both of you started running, you were inside the museum of all the ghostface items and things every person was killed with, you slipped but returned your footing and dashed up the stairs.

"Are you really trying to take what’s mines, Tara?" You heard Ethan say in a low voice — and it scared you, if you were honest. a shiver ran down your spine.

You kept running and leaned against the railing, which broke and caused you to nearly fall. but Tara and Sam were quick to grab you by the wrist and stop you from falling all the way down. but you were hanging and nearly almost done for.

"My hands are slipping, just let go!" you said, Tara felt tears fall from her eyes as she started sobbing, "just hang on okay? just hold our hands, it’s gonna be okay." Sam reassured.

You screamed when a hand grabbed you by the ankle, "help! get off me! someone help!" you continued to yell. Tara held your hand tightly.

She saw Ethan at the bottom with his knife in his hand, a smirk plastered on his lips as he sucked your blood off his fingers.

"You heard her. now you’re hearing me. let her go, Tara." Ethan said with a low growl, "go to hell!" Sam screamed while glaring down at him.

Then your hand slipped, "shit, (Y/n) no!" Tara screamed, you fell to the ground with a thud and groaned in pain. you hurried and crawled away, but Ethan grabbed you by the legs and dragged you back, "No, no, no!" you yelled, looking for any weapon you could find close.

He turned you around and looked down at you with a crazed smile, his eyes glossing a bit because he had you right where he wanted you.

you were all his.

"Ethan, please. please don’t kill me, please." you begged, this must’ve triggered something in him because he went stiff, a frown on his lips appearing.

He cupped your cheek, "baby..why would you think I’d hurt you? wh..what? no, never. once this is all over you can leave with me, my dad, and sister. we wouldn’t have to worry about anything, it’ll be just us. ‘kay baby?" Ethan said while placing a kiss to your cheek.

you continued to sob, you tried pushing him away but you knew nothing was going to work. you were his and only his. It’s not like you didn’t mind it but you didn’t want it this way.

"Shh, my pretty baby. it’s gonna be okay." he whispered in your ear, something sharp stung you in the neck, you realized it was a needle — wha- what? why did he..?

Your eyes felt droopy, "’ts gonna be okay baby, I promise you." then you went limp in his arms. he got you exactly where he wanted you.

in his arms and only his arms. you were so good to him, no one was ever like that to him before. you were different — completely. that’s why he loved you so so so much.

nobody could take that away from him. not even family.

Note: Part two or..? I think this is good, amazing even. I really love the character so here’s my dedication to our precious bby Ethan & jack :))

#ethan landry #scream 6 x reader #xreader #tw:gore #tw:death #tw: language #scream 6 #scream vi

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slasherbvnnie · 1 year

Note

Omg- I would love a continuation whenever you get a chance! Maybe size kink within the smut section or even them getting caught or almost getting caught?

This part 2 is brought to you by learning Stu is a foot and three inches taller than me. I hope you enjoy this, I did my best with the smut. I'm still trying to work on smut, but I think I did a good job with this one.

Dirty Little Secret | Part 2

Part 1

Context: Stu and reader are in a secret relationship behind Tatum's back. Modern Scream Au. All characters 18+

Word Count: 1186

Every other night was always new. Whether it be because you were thinking of a new lie to tell your friends why you couldn’t meet with them or if it was because your heart was racing as Stu climbed up into your window.

Tonight, he chose to once again climb up through your window, which he did even after asking him to come in like a normal person. The reason why he did it was because of the exhilaration he got from sneaking in, not only because he was trying to evade your parents, but because your house was only two houses away from Tatum’s.

It was risky, especially with his car parked not too far away, but both of you loved the thought of potentially getting caught.

You heard the thumps of him climbing up, looking out your window and rolling your eyes. “You know, I’m glad your parents have money, you might be owing me a new wall,” you said as he smirked. “Oh will I,” he asked as you nodded, kissing his cheek as he threw his leg over the windowsill and climbed in. “Tate’s having a little sleepover with Sid tonight, so I figured we could have a little party of our own tonight,” he said as he put his hands on your waist, leaning down and kissing your neck as you smiled. “I’d love that, you haven’t come to see me in a few days,” you pouted as he chuckled against your skin.

“So the other day in that empty lab room meant nothing to you?” He questioned as you hummed, “no, but I do prefer when we can go longer than just a quickie,” you said, moaning softly as he bit down on your neck.

“Then I’ll take my sweet time with you today, sweetheart,” he promised as he pulled you towards your bed.

He smiled, beginning to undress you from your clothes, leaving kisses and hickies in his wake. “So pretty, so fucking gorgeous,” he said as he groped your chest. He smirked, kissing down your body before he got to your panties. He moved his hands off of your chest and instead pulled off your underwear, lifting your thighs to rest on his shoulders and planting little kisses on your inner thighs. You bit down on your bottom lip, letting out a needy whine. “Hurry up already,” you huffed out.

“What happened to not wanting a quickie,” he teased, laughing when you pouted down at him. He flicked his tongue against your clit, moaning at your taste. You whimpered, one hand curling into his hair as the other grasped at your bedsheets. He moved slightly to have his mouth on you, sucking on your clit as his right hand began to play with you. His middle finger teased your entrance, you could feel his smirk against you when you moaned as he slipped his finger inside of you, your grip on his hair getting tighter and holding him in place.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, whimpering when Stu added a second finger. You felt his mouth leave your clit with a little pop from releasing the suction, arching your back when his tongue joined his fingers. You attempted to squirm away from all the pleasure, but his free arm wrapped around you and pulled you back down onto his tongue. “Please, Stu, I need you,” you whined out, feeling happy when you heard him groan. “Don’t say that unless you want me to ruin you,” he murmured against your core as you whined.

“I want you to ruin me, Stu, please. I need you to ruin me,” you pleaded, smiling when he pulled away from your cunt and instead rose to plant a hard kiss on you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he chuckled against your lips, holding your face as he kissed you again. He groped your breast with his other hand, taking the chance of you moaning to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You didn’t fight him, simply letting him do what he wanted with you. Even though you enjoyed teasing him sometimes, you both enjoyed when you gave him full freedom and let him use you as a toy.

“Such a good girl for me, yeah? Let’s see how much of a slut I can make you into,” he hummed, pulling away from you. He pulled off his jeans, quickly getting out of his shirt and underwear before grabbing you and getting off the bed. “Let’s try something new,” he said as he took you over to the window, your legs wrapping around his waist and connecting your ankles behind the small of his back. “Stu, but-“ “what? Afraid tate will see?” He asked with a smirk as you pouted, “Oh come on baby, who fucking cares. I want your neighbors to see how fucking hot that ass looks, especially when I’m fucking that pretty pussy of yours,” he said, kissing your neck again.

He pulled down the window, not wanting you to fall out mid fuck, pressing you against the glass after. He held onto you tightly, pushing inside of you, the two of you moaning as he pushed all the way inside. “Fuck, look at that, barely fucking fit inside,” he groaned, looking down at where the two of you connected. You grew wetter at his comment, moaning as you looked down and he thrusted all the way in.

You clung onto him, clawing at his back as he took no mercy on you. Stu knew exactly how you liked it by now, wasting no time to get the both of you off, not when he knew how many rounds you two could last together.

Your climax was beginning to build until you heard your phone ring, the two of you huffing as you looked over and saw Tatum’s id call. “Fuck, stu, hand it to me,” you requested, Stu rolling his eyes as he reached over and handed the phone to you. You thought he would stop, but was only met with him thrusting even harder into you.

“Holy shit, are you getting fucking plowed right now?” Tate asked as you blushed, “Tate! What are you doing outside,” you asked, trying not to moan and doing your best to not notice Stu’s shit-eating smirk at hearing your question. “Me and Sid made some cookies, came to give you some but it seems like you found something better,” she said as you whined. “Just leave them at the door okay!” You said before hanging up, moaning as Stu pushed even harder against you.

You moved your head to the crook of his neck, moaning into the crevice before hearing a loud exclamation from outside. You looked to Stu, blushing when you realized he was staring out the window down at whoever was yelling outside. “Fuck,” you huffed out, whimpering when Stu didn’t stop, instead quickening his pace. “S-Stu, Tate’s-“ “Getting a show along with Sid, come on, let’s at least get off before getting into a fight,” he laughed, kissing your neck as he continued to thrust inside of you.

#stu macher smut #stu macher brainrot #stu macher x reader #stu macher #scream 1996 #scream1996 #scream #scream x reader #scream au #ghostface x reader #ghostface

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eaturheartout2021 · 1 year

Text

Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcanons

Warnings: adult language

Sfw

He definitely loves watching sunrises even if he doesn’t want to admit it

Loves Rom-Coms, especially Love Actually (I’ll die on that hill)

Has to sleep with a fan on even in winter time. If the electricity for whatever reason goes off and the fan stops he immediately wakes up and is PiSsEd

Is a huge dog person and would love to have one but his job prevents him from getting one because he’s gone from home so much

Loves ramen and could eat it until he could burst, especially the beef flavor.

Super self conscious about his appearance and will only show you his face if he truly trusts you.

Loves to play with your hair until you fall asleep and even then he doesn’t stop. Will brush his fingers through your soft hair, just feeling the realness of you, watching you peacefully sleep in his arms.

Will melt if you massage his lower back. That spot stays so tense and if you dig your fingers just ever so gently, he just turns into putty in your grasp.

Is an actual god at Mario cart. Rainbow road? Yeah, Childs play. 1st place every time. His character? King Boo, who else?

Not a huge fan of PDA but when the two of you are alone expect to be in a dog pile of cuddles and blankets with him. That man will rut into your neck and just breath in your smell for as long as you let him. It’s heaven for him.

Loves a warm towel to wrap up in after a shower. Especially if he’s just gotten home after a long deployment.

Prefers Autumn over any other season only because it’s the most bearable season and it’s not blistering hot or freezing cold.

When he does manage to get some sleep, he snores. Loud enough to shake the walls off a house.

Falls asleep on the couch and when questioned will blatantly deny ever falling asleep. The dad nap, if you will.

Physically has to restrain himself from holding you in bed with him all day, that man will hold you hostage just to get you all to himself for a crumb of a cuddle. Work be damned. Call in sick if you have too, you’re not going in today.

Scary dog privileges when out in public because he’s a 6”4 giant with a glare that can cut through 10 inch titanium. No one dares to try you because they’d make it 4 feet and die.

If you’ve had a hard day at work and you come home looking drained and exhausted, he’ll wordlessly undress you, carry you to the bathroom, draw you a hot bath and wash you. Head to toe. Then leave you to soak away the day. Once out, he’ll wrap you in a fresh towel and carry you to bed and give your feet and thorough rub.

If you have a tummy, that man loves it. If you doubt yourself and stare too long in the mirror, he’s behind you, wrapping his arms around you gently caressing your stomach, rubbing it lovingly. “You’re so beautiful, I just love every inch of you. Don’t you see it. Especially this.” He hugs your middle a little tighter and gives your neck a sweet and tender kiss meeting your watery eyed gaze in the reflection.

If he’s having a particularly bad day and needs to be alone with his thoughts, he’ll leave little notes on your fridge letting you know where he’s went and that he’ll be back eventually.

If you ever get into an argument and Ghost raises his voice, he’ll automatically shut down, for days. He’ll beat himself up until he can’t even forgive himself even after you’ve voiced your forgiveness a million times over. Especially if he made you cry. That’ll be the straw that broke the camel’s back for him.

He’ll probably book a motel room and stay for a few days just so he can try and clear his head and try to figure out how to make things right by you.

He’ll eventually return with your favorite ice cream, your favorite chocolate, and some obnoxious horror movie he’d never catch himself watching, but he would for you. Anything for you.

NSFW

The first time you had done anything with him, it wasn’t anything like you had dreamt it would be. It was loving, affectionate.

He’s definitely a power bottom.

Absolutely goes feral to see you on top while he pounds into from below while you try to hold yourself from falling onto him, hands clutching his broad muscular shoulders.

He’s not very vocal aside from grunts and groans but when he starts to talk, oh man, it’s like the flood gates have opened. “So good for me, pretty.” “Taking me so deep, s’like you were made for me.” “You’re ruining me love, fuck!”

Loses his mind when you randomly give him head. When he comes home after a long deployment, he’ll be tense and worked up. He’ll come home to the lights off, thinking you’ll be asleep but finds you in the most revealing set of lace lingerie.

Ghost.exe has stopped working.

You’ll saunter over to him, and just take him to the bed, and he’ll just willingly let you man handle him as you strip him of his clothes and give him the most heated bedroom eyes.

That man will have a hard on for DAYS

He’ll cup your face, and hold back your hair as you go down on him, while you tell him you want to take care of him for a change and in that moment he knows that he would do anything for you.

This man is obsessed with your breasts. When you’re riding him, he’s always got his face buried between them, sucking horrendous amounts of hickeys on every inch of exposed skin.

Even outside the bedroom, you’re constantly fighting him off you because he just wants to play with your breasts. #simonrileyisaboobman

You accidentally called him “sir” once and he has since developed a kink for it. He now has you call him that in bed when he’s feeling “extra” dominant, which is always.

You tried bondage once and you were super into it, but he was so concerned about giving you rope burn that it was all he could think about and he couldn’t focus. So you tied him up.

That man ate. it. up.

He had never been dominated so it was awkward at first but after he got into it, that man’s view’s on things has been changed.

You had tied his hands behind his back, put him on his knees, and made him vulnerable to you (with consent of course, we’re not animals) and this had made him so unbelievably horny.

Shower sex. Can and will pin you to the shower wall like it’s nothing and rearrange your insides.

He loves to use toys on you, especially as foreplay. He can drag it out for ages by stopping you right before you’re about to come and then start again a few minutes later only to repeat until you’re begging him, legs shaking, to let you finish.

He takes the toys away, grabs your face and says “the only time you finish is going to be on my cock, now get up ‘ere sweetheart if you want to come so bad and take it.”

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley cod #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #simon riley x you #simon riley headcanons #ghost headcanons #simon ghost riley x you #ghost cod #ghost cod mwii

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beautifultypewriter · 1 year

Note

Hello! I would like to say that the way you write Dwalin is absolutely mesmerising and very in character!! Despite not usually being drawn to Dwalin, the way you write him is what drew me to your blog! I would like to request headcanons for Dwalin, Kili, Fili and Bofur visiting someone they wish to court/are beginning to court, but only see them weekly/bi-weekly (this person lives in a cabin at the bottom of the mountain of Erebor and is very independent) GN!Reader please, thank you very much!

This has been in my inbox for forever and I am so sorry about that. Thank you so much! I love Dwalin so much. Hope you see this and I hope you like it!

Fili:

Fili has a lot of responsibility in Erebor, so it can be quite difficult for him to make the journey to see you, but he always makes it work.

Unfortunately, sometimes making it work means that he shows up at the most god awful hours.

It’s the middle of the night and you’re sleeping peacefully when a few quick knocks on your front door startle you awake. And like you know in your heart that it’s just Fili, but you still have to be cautious as you go to the door.

As you pull the door open, your hand tight on the blade of your knife, Fili grins at you. He’s got a basket full of whatever he thinks you need and he’s holding it out to you. His eye flicker to your knife as you tuck it back into its sheath.

“You know, if you came up to live in the mountain with me then you wouldn’t have to worry about that.” He motions to the knife and you shake your head.

Because you’ve had this conversation before. You like where you live and you don’t mind all the work that comes along with it.

It ends the same as it always does, Fili smiles and shrugs, “I tried.” And then you make some tea and the two of you sit to catch up on everything you’ve missed with the other.

Kili:

Kili has less responsibility than his older brother, so he’s able to get out a lot more easily.

Which he does often. He can’t get enough of you, so he rushing down the mountain at his top speed every day just to get to you.

Usually you’re still in the middle of your daily chores, so he offers to help (sometimes he makes a mess, but he’s trying) and you give him some of your easier tasks.

He huffs, saying that he can handle more difficult things, but you just laugh. You know he could handle harder tasks, but you hate to ask him to do too much. You may never say that, but he figures it out quickly and he helps in whatever way you ask him.

Kili will definitely drop hints about you coming up to live with him under the mountain, but will never outright say that or ask you to. He knows you too well.

As the sun goes down and you know it’s time for him to go if he wants to make it back at a reasonable hour, you pack him a snack and push it into his hands.

“I have some time still.” And you give him a pointed look because he really doesn’t. He just grins though, “Five more minutes.” And he cuddles up to you for at least another hour.

Is constantly being scolded upon his late return to Erebor, but he does not care one bit. It was worth it to him.

Dwalin:

Dwalin loves that you live in your own little home at the bottom of the mountain that you take care of all on your own.

He’s like, “My person is so strong and doesn’t need anything from anyone.”

That doesn’t stop him from bringing you things and helping you with your chores though. He loves you and he wants to make your life easier in any way that he can. Which is fine by you because he is an excellent helper.

He knows you well enough not to bother talking about you coming to live under the mountain. This life suits you fine and he would never want you to think that he wants you to change yourself for him. Not that you ever would even if he did ask, but he’s cautious.

Dwalin will often stay the night at your house because he’s never quite ready to leave you and the two of you end up falling asleep. This means he has to make early morning treks back up the mountain, but he doesn’t mind.

Is so looking forward to the day where he gets to come live in your little house with you after the two of you are married.

#dwalin x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #the hobbit headcanons #the hobbit imagine

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mango-bango-bby · 1 year

Note

can I order Yandere!Keigo decorating the house for Christmas with his sweetheart and son (🧊)?

♡ After Work ♡

(A/N: I have such intense baby fever right now like all I want is to write domestic fics 😓😓 After my holiday event I wanna write a bunch of domestic fiscal because I need a baby with my fav characters 💞💞💞💞)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, domestic stuff, kids, just fluff 💖

Summary: You, Keigo, and your son decorate the Christmas tree (Yan!Hawks x GN!reader *reader is referred to as ‘mommy’ by the kids though*)

Holiday Event ➸ ♡

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hayato loved Christmas, he had been begging you and Keigo to decorate for Christmas since October. You two waited until at least the middle of November to decorate. He loved Christmas, he loved presents, the tree, the lights. He just loved everything. Of course that was expected, every kid loves Christmas after all.

“Baby, you need to be careful with the ornaments” you say concerned as you watch your son run around with a bunch of ornaments in his hands trying to decorate the tree.

Although only the bottom current had anything on it as that’s all he could reach with out flying, which you and Keigo banned you from flying with out one of you near him to catch him if he fell.

“I am, mommy, don’t worry!” Hayato chirps happily, running around the tree to try and find a place to put the next ornament. You had let him pick out a couple ornaments of whatever he wanted, luckily his father was a pro-hero so there was no shortage of ornaments of him which Hayato absolutely loved as he would gladly take any merch he could of Keigo.

“I’m home~” Keigo songs as you walk in through the balcony door, often flying back to the penthouse you all lived in. “Hi” you smile back, getting up for a moment to hug him although he pulls you into a kiss. “I’m decorating the tree!” Hayato says loudly, he’s very proud of that.

“Without me?” Keigo fake pouts. “Only the bottom parts of the tree, we waited to decorate the rest with you” You say gesturing over to the tree which looked almost ridiculous because there were only ornaments where your four year old son could reach.

“Papa, can I please fly to put the star on, please!” Hayato begs, you had told him that he had to wait until his father got home because you know that he would want to see that.

“You can, bud, just be careful ok?” Keigo says, watching Hayato beginning to try and fly. He was born with his quirk but he still had a bit of trouble flying, only being able to get a few feet off of the ground.

Hayato flaps his little wings as fast as he could beginning to get an inch or two off of the ground. You had him the star for the tree, Keigo keeping his hand near Hayato as he flew to catch him if he perhaps fell.

Eventually he finally reaches the top, setting the star up in the top. Keigo helps him get down as he could fly up but still couldn’t figure out how to get down. You clap for him, watching him smile at how proud you seem of him.

You loved the holidays with your family.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

#soft yandere #domestic yandere #yandere hawks x reader #yandere!hawks #yandere hawks #yandere!keigo #yandere keigo #yandere takami keigo #yandere keigo x reader #yanderd takami

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peakywitch · 2 years

Text

Ten years calm - Tommy Shelby

Asked by @runnning-outof-time

Hi there! Hope you’re doing well! ☺️ I’m not sure if your requests are still open, but I stumbled upon your prompts list and I absolutely love them! I was wondering if I could request something fluffy with Tommy using prompt #32 from the list? I’m an absolute book lover and would love to see what you’d create. Thanks in advance if you choose to write it! 🥰

TW: slight mention of father figure passing away, war. Tommy being the world's best husband ever.

A/N: I had the time of my life writing this, my mum cried when i showed her a specific part, the ending. So, grab a tissue! Also, THIS is the painting i'm talking about in the fic.

If you like my content, please reblog! although likes are greatly and deeply appreciated, with reblogs i can reach more people <3

1k words, just like i love my tommy shelby: short and sweet, haha.

Masterlist

The warm mug of chamomile tea was the perfect partner for a cold evening like that one. Tommy’s office was always on the colder side, even though the fire was always on. He was writing something with the typewriter, while she was keeping him company and reading a dark romance novel. The constant ticking of the machine had a sedative effect, and the way it merged with the crackling of the fire, made everything feel more like home. The typewriter reminded her of the noise that John made when writing the bets down with the chalk, he was always quite a loud writer, and the fire of Arrow House reminded her of the fire in the living room in Watery Lane, the same fire they used to fight for in the winter.

Without noticing right away, the typing stopped, and Y/N looked up the second she found out. Tommy was staring into the air, trying to grab a hold of an idea that was getting further away from him by the second.

“Love, are you okay?” Y/N asked, when the expression of her husband turned into one of slight annoyance. Without even blinking away, Tommy asked:

"Can I borrow that book of yours?” He spoke, softly and quickly.

“Um, sure Tom. What book?” She marked the page she was on, left the book in the tray by her side and walked towards the library that Tommy had installed for her there, in his office.

The library was a big one, ten different shelves, almost two metres tall, and the most beautiful dark brown you could ever find. It wasn’t alphabetically organised, nor colour coded or style of writing. They were organised in a particular way. The way she liked them. The first two, top to bottom, were the “I liked them” type of book, the Iliad was there. Third and fourth row were the “to be read” or “reading” since they were at the height of her eyes, so she could navigate through the current reads with swift. Fifth and six were the favourite book shelf, where you could find Gone with the wind, and the Brönte sisters. Seven and eight was the place where you could find the “not so good, not so liked by me”, where the book that Ada gave to Y/N various christmases ago, Ana Karenina and that damned manifest. In the last two rows, you could find the books that had not been read yet, some were still intact, awaiting to be read.

“That book in-” He said, and started to light up a cigarette but got interrupted.

“The book in the tray?” she asked, walking back again to the chair, but changed the course of her steps when he spoke again:

“No, the one in the middle of your favourite. That book I want you to lend me.” He breathed out a fairly dense cloud of smoke, and his eyes stayed in her, studying every movement.

The very centre of the shelf.

It could be easy, if she was an easy reader.

But she was not.

She enjoyed the troubles that authors put her through, the agony of losing a character and the forbidden fantasy.

Sure, she could most definitely choose Pride and Prejudice. A book in which a man, just like Tommy, fought against his better judgement, the smart thing to do and his heart for quite some time.

But she knew that the true answer lied in a book written almost a century ago, a book that had a painting, and that painting was in their ballroom, not only showing off how much money Tommy actually had, but showing off he’d do anything for her, for Y/N, for his wife.

So, she took a book that was viciously damaged from how many times she had read it. Sure, it wasn’t a book many would categorise as “romantic”, or even “adequate literature for a woman”, but it was the last gift his dad had for her, before war. It kept her company in all those lonely nights, where Tommy was away. It was also her company when she tried to escape the world when the telegram that had her father’s name arrived.

It wasn’t everyone’s first choice.

But it was her first choice.

Just like Tommy.

And that’s what mattered to her. What she liked.

“If you break this book, Tommy Shelby, I will-” she started, with a serious tone in her voice.

“Kill me?” he asked, finishing up his cigarette.

“No,” she said, “cry, actually. That book means a lot to me, even if you don’t believe it, you know? So…”

She started to ramble about the book, and kept on talking for a few moments, while Tommy was trying to hide a soft smile.

“Y/N,” he got up from his leather chair, left the now dead cigarette in the ashtray and after walking up to her, both of his hands rested on her shoulders. He felt how addemat she was about lending that book, he knew how she would save the book before coming to get him if there ever was a fire in the house. “‘s okay, darling. I’ll tell you what. You tell your favourite quote.”

“What for? I have philosophical, love, war-type, friendship-” she started to count and was interrupted with a forehead kiss.

“The one you will ramble to our kids every day, darling. That one.” She blushed.

Even though they had been married for almost ten years now, Tommy had recently declared he would like to start actually trying, and the conversation always made her blush, even in the slightest way. Not in a shameful, “this conversation about sex makes me uncomfortable” type of way. But more in a “this is how i express my love to you” type of way. She always blushed when Tommy was this soft type of man, it gave her endless butterflies.

“Okay.”

That same night she found her quote in a letter lying in her nightstand. A letter so beautiful many would have thought was written by someone who had experience in the art of poetry and romantic writing. But no one, not even the best poet, could compare to the soft and wisely chosen words of her husband.

In the middle of soft phrases that were dedicated to her eyes, her heart and to her knowledge only, she found the quote from War and Peace:

“We are asleep until we fall in love. Yet I find myself calm in the touch of your hands, in the warmth of your hugs and in the kisses of your lips. When I got to know what being awake and alert was like, I only longed for the softness of your touch, and to be able to sleep again with you in my arms. Even if it meant one night and my death by sunlight. Happy ten years of anniversary to the one I get to call my wife at every minute of my life.”

#tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy x reader #tom shelby #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby headcanon #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fluff #tom shelby fluff

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solradguy · 8 months

Text

Alright. The scribbly text font... I took a swing at figuring this thing out back around January this year (2023) then got bored, but it's come up again recently in the lore server where a bunch of us have been trying to figure them all out. There are a few.

The first is what we've just been calling Font 1 because it's the most commonly used one in the textures, the most legible, and the one we've figured out the most about. Here're some samples directly from textures. This first one is from the Outrage, "Sol Badguy no Buki Dayo" (Sol Badguy's Weapon):

A big sample from Faust that provided a lot of characters for the key (I'll include a "translation" at the end of this post):

The key:

The next 2 to possibly 4 fonts are the ones we're now stuck on. Here's a few samples I compiled and then @shmuelbrain drew some connections between similar characters. Top right text is from I-No, Millia middle-right, the tiny middle-top is from Testament, and the others are from Chaos, who used these fonts the most out of all of the characters.

The bottom text and top row text are the same font, Font 2, but the two middle left fonts look like a possible Font 3 and the Millia text may even be a Font 4. We think that these fonts are actually handwritten and not a vectorized font like Font 1. Even similar glyphs have variances with these 3 fonts, whereas Font 1 was consistent across every character that had it used in their textures.

I spent several hours yesterday downloading and sifting through font websites and AI font finders to try to find any of these 4 fonts and had zero luck. We're getting the impression that, if Fonts 2, 3, and 4 aren't handwritten, that they're at least in-house fonts. Font 1 might exist outside of ASW offices simply because they've used commercial fonts before; the weathered "Strive" font is based off Impact and FOT-ManyoSosho Std E is used on a bunch of character textures too.

Working with these scripts is difficult because, as you can see with the Sol text, it isn't always in English. Sometimes it's actual nonsensical keysmashing. So, if anyone is a font finding wizard and would like to lend a hand we'd all be very grateful haha

Faust texture text:

A merry heart makes a long life

A sound mind in a sound body

An apple a day keeps the doctor away

Care killed a cat

Desperate diseases need desperate cures

Fancy may kill or cure

The Imaginary Invalid

ManyoSosho Std E looks like this. You've probably noticed it before just because it's actually legible.

Here are some more samples from Ariels of Font 1:

#textpost #long post #guilty gear font #TAGGING this time because I had to dig through so many posts to find the one about this from January lmao

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triskhellion · 11 months

Text

The first part of Customer Service.

Rated: Explicit (10.8K)

Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Laura Hale, Alan Deaton

Tags: Omega Derek, Human Stiles, Getting Together, Coffee Shop AU, Surly Barista Derek, Sleepy College Student Stiles, Vulgar Latte Art, Heat Sex, Virgin Stiles, Versatile Derek/Stiles, Dominant Bottom Derek, Service Top Stiles, Embarrassment, Praise Kink, Various Explicit Sex Acts, Knotting, Biting, Derek call Stiles kitten, Cat Ears, Collars & Leashes, Werewolves Are Known.

Derek:

Derek had been told on multiple occasions that his customer service left much to be desired — the earlier it was, the grumpier he was — but apparently some people were into that. Considered it an authentic surly barista coffee shop experience or something. The rest of the patrons overlooked it because he made an espresso even meaner than he was, poured beautiful latte art (if he didn’t hate you) and could make the perfect Reuben.

Also because it was the only coffee shop in this neighborhood that opened at a miserable 5:30am, which Laura mandated during the week and meant having to come in at 5:00 to get things ready. So the early bird caffeine fiends and danish devotees either had to deal with him at least some of the time or wait until a much more reasonable 7:00am to go to Hot Shots or Francine’s instead. That or learn to make their own pumpkin bread, cappuccinos, and seven syrup oat milk monstrosities at home.

Then there were those who didn’t mind because they thought he was hotter than the panini grill that he managed to burn himself on at least once almost every day. (Fortunately, he had werewolf healing.) Derek didn’t much care what anyone thought as long as they got off the phone to order and kept it moving, especially when there was a line.

When some obviously new kid — almost certainly a student at the college up the street — stumbled in at almost a quarter after 6:00 Monday morning, somehow giving the impression of wide-eyed gawking while squinty from lack of sleep, he wondered which kind of customer he’d be. Derek went back to doing the soup prep for lunch knowing that it’d probably be a while before Squinty read the menu and then actually made up his mind.

Stiles:

Stiles was not a morning person, but when he decided to transfer from BCCC to BSU after one year instead of two the only available time left for one of the classes he needed was 7:00am on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Why would a professor even do such a thing? (The answer was apparently so that the nursing students, athletes, and others who needed to finish earlier in the afternoons could attend, but pssh, whatever Professor Stanton.)

Thankfully, there was a coffee shop that opened at stupid o’clock about halfway between his new place and the 20 minute walk to school (or 3 minute drive when he’d inevitably run late, but he’d try to get a little exercise this way when possible and it also gave him an excuse to explore the neighborhood on his walks back home.) TrisKettle Café it was called and it had a triple spiral thingy for a logo. Cool.

He nearly moaned when he opened the door and the scent of sweet sweet coffee (well, bitter coffee, but you know) wafted over to him. He hadn’t bothered to check out the menu online just being glad that the cafe existed at all. Stiles had slept in over the weekend and when he got up today and realized that he’d lost track of where he’d packed even his emergency instant coffee he almost cried. He figured he’d have a look around and pick whatever was available and sounded good.

After checking out the baked goods selection he made his decision and planned to order for here. He had 25 minutes or so to kill before he had to leave. Stiles saw that the barista was in the middle of doing something with a large pot so took a couple minutes to read the framed article clippings on the nearest wall.

They had opened just two years ago and the owner was a young woman named Laura Hale. There was a picture of her and her family smiling on the sidewalk out front; a middle aged couple who he assumed were her parents, a young man and a teenage girl who were probably siblings, and a man in his mid-20s with one arm around her shoulder and the other holding a toddler.

Well, most of them were smiling. The younger guy, who was admittedly quite handsome, had what was at best a pretty neutral expression. Underneath it listed their names: Talia Hale, Nathan Hale, Cora Hale, Aaron Hale, Emily Hale. One of the names in the middle was partially crossed out until it only said D Hale. Huh.

Stiles glanced at the time on his phone and then approached the counter. The barista turned around before he could say anything sporting whatever the male version of Resting Bitch Face was. Bastard Face? Jerk Face? At any rate, it was the dude from the picture and his name tag indeed just said D.

“Hi, can I have one of the almond pear pastries and a large latte for here?”

“Yeah, it’ll be $8.25.”

Stiles handed over a $10 bill and then dropped the change in tip jar marveling at D’s ability to instantly do even the most rudimentary math this early in the morning.

There was no one behind him so he stayed at the counter reading the lunch menu and daily specials and the funny stickers on the register and tip jar. He idly turned sideways to lean against it to look at the art on the other side, but miscalculated and lost his balance, catching himself with an arm smacking the wooden surface after a moment of flailing. When he looked up D was watching him and raising an impressive, judgmental eyebrow.

“Should I put this in a to-go cup…” he more stated than asked, walking back over to towards him as the espresso machine whirred.

“Nah, th-that’s okay, I got it,” Stiles stammered, flushing with embarrassment. “It’s my first day having to get up this early for classes and I’m not used to it yet. Hopefully once I get some caffeine in my system my motor skills will improve at least slightly and my brain will stop questioning reality.”

“As long as you don’t break this mug you can hallucinate as much as you want.”

“More like Hale-ucinate, amirite?”

D stared at him silently for several seconds and Stiles fidgeted awkwardly. Just before he was about to slink away to wait for his latte over by the wall the barista shook his head and sighed.

“I hate that I thought that was funny,” he replied in a monotone, expression not noticeably changing in any way as he went to finish preparing the drink.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me, but if you say so,” Stiles mumbled under his breath after the barista was out of earshot.

Or so he’d thought. The retreating man froze and then turned around, glaring.

Oh shit, how did he actually hear th—Oh fuck, he must be a werewolf! I’m going to get ripped to shreds. Hopefully only metaphorically.

Stiles had just moved to what he referred to as his “shanty studio” last Thursday from his Dad’s place on the other side of the county and hadn’t heard much, if any, of the local gossip yet. Including that the Hales were apparently werewolves.

It had been a few years since the Big Reveal and aside from the usual bigots and rabble rousers and the occasional terrorist plot (which had already been a thing, so not much had changed except the growing list of targets for fanatics) things had calmed down considerably. There were still tensions of course, but most folks ended up more or less shrugging their shoulders in the end since the Weres had clearly been here the whole time and a significant amount of folks either knew a werewolf or knew someone that did.

Stiles still wasn’t in the habit of considering that someone he ran into randomly could be a wolf though. There had only been the one elderly couple back home — at least that were open about it anyway — and they’d lived there for ages.

When his latte arrived the foam was artfully formed in the shape of an exceptionally detailed dick. Instead of getting huffy about it like the werewolf probably expected, Stiles merely snorted and grinned. He took a sip, licking the froth from his top lip after.

“Thanks for the D, D!” he called cheerfully, saluting before going to find a seat in the back corner.

Derek:

Derek cracked a smile as the new kid walked away. So he was the easy going sort. That was good. He told himself it was just because the last thing he needed was another uptight and irate early morning customer and not because he was very cute and smelled nice and caught the attention of his wolf. No, definitely not.

Said new customer quickly became a regular at the shop, coming in on his early class days and sometimes an additional day or two a week, though either in the late mornings or afternoons then. Derek refused to do more than 3 opening shifts a week, so he sometimes saw him on those days too. He learned that Squinty aka New Kid’s name was Stiles and when he asked “What kind of a name is that?” the impish bastard replied with “One with more than a single letter.” Touché.

Derek had poured him a foam ass vaguely reminiscent of goatse that time, but also gave him a bag of leftover brownies and pastries from the previous day. Surprised, Stiles thanked him and the smile he gave in return lit up his whole face. When Derek realized he’d been staring he grunted out a sarcastic “You’re welcome” and went to wipe down the already clean prep table behind him.

He’d noticed that Stiles only bought food with his beverage once or twice a week and sometimes just got regular drip coffee to drink as well and figured he’d help the likely rather broke student out. They often put leftovers out in a way so that folks who needed food could safely take it, but their favorite regulars got some too.

Their baked goods were delicious if he said so himself, but after two years there was only so much of them even a family of werewolves cared to put away. They only made the brownies, cookies, and pumpkin, banana, and rotating specialty breads in house since pastry dough was beyond all of the Hale siblings. Cora, who worked a few hours after school some days and usually one longer weekend shift, once made a batch of “kwa-sahns” so hard that they were only fit to be used as doorstops.

As the weeks went by it became a goal of his to make Stiles smile or laugh with different outrageous and occasionally cute or actually pretty designs each time he ordered his usual. The last time he’d made him a silly little fox. Derek couldn’t help sometimes imagining the mischievous, all too appealing human lapping at him like he shamelessly did with the foam on his lattes or the whipped cream on the hot cocoas he got from time to time instead.

Stiles:

Going to TrisKettle was often the highlight of his day, which was somewhat unfortunate seeing as that was usually at the very start of it and so it was all at least relatively downhill from there. So it went. Stiles had been doing fine in his classes, but was not particularly enthused this term of yet more pre-recs. He’d made some pals to hang around with in between classes and to study or do projects with in the meeting rooms at the library, but that was pretty much the extent of things so far.

But the coffee shop, that was the place he got both his caffeine and banter fixes. He’d gotten to know Laura herself, who opened most of the mornings that D didn’t (her husband, Aaron usually did so once a week.) She was sunny and talked with her hands and was pretty much the opposite of her brother, except for the sarcasm that they had in common. A trait which was also shared with Baby Hale Demon, aka Cora, who flipped him off whenever they crossed paths, but clearly enjoyed their own verbal sparring. There were a few other folks that worked there as well, mostly fellow students at the college, but none from his classes.

And of course D, who was in a category all on his own. Between the hilarious foam art and the much appreciated bags of day olds once or twice a week and the rare and therefore immensely more valuable smiles bestowed upon him when he managed to truly amuse the werewolf, making him even more unfairly gorgeous, Stiles was having all sorts of thoughts and feelings. Sigh.

But now was not for brooding; it was a Friday and he could worry about all that later when he was home or between classes. Now was for drinking coffee — he’d mix things up with a mocha to-go today since he’d arrived later than usual — and trying to make his favorite grumpy barista smile.

D grunted a greeting and dropped a still slightly warm napkin wrapped chocolate peanut butter cookie on the counter in front of him, which he demolished in seconds after paying for his drink with his debit card and dropping a dollar in the tip jar. While his drink was being made Stiles called out to the werewolf.

“Hey D, what do you drink when you’re feeling depressed?”

“Whisky with wolfsbane,” he deadpanned. Stiles inhaled sharply.

“Oh, um, I was trying to tell a joke, but that’s, uh, good to know, I, uh—“

“I know,” the werewolf said, turning around with a smirk. Then he rolled his eyes. “It's fine, go on.”

“It’s a coffee based beverage if you want to guess…” he said, trailing off and trying not to grin too much. D merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“A desolatte!”

The barista snorted and actually let out a little chuckle before pouring his drink and Stiles felt all accomplished and warm inside. When he got his mocha it had a sad to-go cup drawn on the cardboard sleeve. How delightfully meta, he thought, now practically glowing. Yeah, he was going to keep that. Then he glanced at the clock and realized he had to leave right now if he wanted to make it to class on time, if not a few minutes late.

“Ack, gotta run. Thanks for the cookie and stuff!” he cried, dashing out of the café with a smile on his face.

Derek:

A few minutes after Stiles left another customer handed Derek his debit card, which had fallen onto the ground at some point. After preparing that order he pulled it out from where he’d temporarily stashed it under the register and looked at it curiously.

Mieczysław Stilinski. He tried to sound it out and probably butchered it horribly. Well that explained both the nickname itself and its usage. He’d put it somewhere safe and give it to Stiles the next time he came in. Tell the others too in case it was when he wasn’t there.

Just before he was getting ready to clock out around 12:30 the younger man came barreling back in.

“Hey, I have to run again soon to get back for my third class, but did you happen to—“

Derek pulled out the card with a smirk and Stiles made an exaggerate gesture of relief before reaching over to take it from him. Their fingers brushed and he heard Stiles' heart pick up a bit.

“Th-thanks dude—“

“Don’t call me dude.”

Stiles took a breath and rolled his eyes.

“Thanks, D. I was trying to grab something to eat for lunch and realized my card was gone.”

“You want a Reuben?” he asked, heading over to the back counter.

“Sure! You know I don’t think I’ve ever actually had one before…”

Derek whipped around scandalized and narrowed his eyes.

“You’re not someone who only eats crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and mac n’ cheese and pizza rolls are you?” he asked accusingly.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck and avoided his gaze.

“I mean, I do like all of those things and eat them pretty regularly, but I like trying other stuff too.”

“Good,” Derek replied firmly. Whew, crisis averted. He quickly assembled the sandwich — thinly sliced corned beef and Swiss cheese with sauerkraut and Russian dressing (not that imposter Thousand Island!) on rye — and placed it on the panini grill, pressing it down. While it was getting all nice and melty- toasty he turned back to the antsy human with a smirk.

“I see why you go by Stiles, but your weird ass name is cool.”

The younger man blushed and grinned. God, he was pretty.

“Well, you can call me 'M' then, D,” Stiles said, winking.

“Derek,” he whispered confidentially. Fair was fair after all and he liked the idea of him knowing. Dark amber eyes widened and Stiles repeated it under his breath smelling of happiness and other pleasant emotions. Yum.

The timer went off and interrupted the lascivious direction of his thoughts. He put the Reuben straight onto some parchment lined foil, burning himself slightly in the process of course, and rolled it up.

“Here you go, now shoo,” he said, handing Stiles the sandwich.

“But I have to pay for—“

“Nope. Get out of here. You have 5 seconds. 5…4…3…”

The human laughed and started running.

“Thanks, Sauerwolf!”

Derek hmphed. “Sauerwolf,” huh? Well, it was better — or at least more creative — than “dude,” but Stiles was definitely getting a frowning poop with flies or a middle finger on his latte next time.

Stiles:

He was standing in line the following Tuesday and checking his email on his phone when he heard the woman 2 spots ahead of him ask for an almond pear pastry.

“Sorry, we’re all out,” D replied, not sounding very sorry at all.

He groaned internally. Those were his favorite and he even came in earlier than usual for an off day in hopes of grabbing one while getting his much needed dose of D caffeine. Stiles greeted Derek (he was still giddy about that) and was about to ask what he’d recommend instead when the werewolf set down a latte with a foam face-hugger from Aliens in front of him along with an absolutely scrumptious looking almond pear pastry in typical rough fashion.

A huge grin spread across his face and there was a ghost of a smile on Derek’s lips as well as he rung Stiles up.

“Thanks, dude! You’re the best.”

The Eyebrows™ scrunched together as the werewolf glared at him and extended a singe claw — whoa, he’d never seen any shifting in person before! — making as if to snag back the pastry.

“Derek! You’re the best, Derek!”

The barista huffed and let the nail on his right pointer finger go back to normal.

“I know. But just call me D when there’s people around. I don’t want all these other yahoos thinking they can use it.”

“Ok, sure. Thanks again, D!”

“You’re welcome, M.”

He headed for his usual table, which luckily became available again while he was in line, feeling fluttery and aglow again. Derek not only knew his favorites in the standard barista-regular way, but bothered to save him food on the chance that he might come in on a given non-early day. Meaning he thought about him when he wasn’t around. Stiles was allowed to use name in private, perhaps implying that there might be less public occasions.

Or maybe he just meant when the store was slow. Don’t get ahead of yourself, his voice of reason and hope-avoidance warned. Whatever, the werewolf at least clearly liked him even if he wasn’t sure in what way or to what extent.

When the customer that was before him earlier saw what was on his plate and gave him the stink eye he only smiled back at her and shrugged in a “What-can-you-do?” way. Sorry lady. I happen to be favored of one Derek Hale: Prince of Pastry, Danish Don, Lord of Lattes. She actually went up to complain then and Derek looked her right in the face and said that he had already ordered it before coming in. Stiles had a feeling that the next time the woman came into the shop while he was working that they would have “pre-sold” all of the almond pear pastries then too.

Later when he’d finished the essay he was working on he wandered back to the counter during a post-lunch rush lull before heading out.

“I thought werewolves didn’t lie?”

“Who the hell said that?” Derek asked incredulously. “Lying to werewolves is generally pointless, but we can lie to you guys all we want. I mean, she wasn’t a werewolf nor was anyone else currently in, but if she had been I would’ve simply said that you had a standing order, which is true as far as I’m concerned.”

And with that Derek turned around to ostensibly wash his hands. Were his ears a bit red?

“Bye D,” Stiles called, his stupid heart doing its stupid flips again as the barista did a sharp salute/wave gesture over his shoulder.

Derek:

When Derek woke up Friday morning more than an hour before his already ridiculous 4:15am alarm he growled in frustration. He’d gotten what, four, maybe five hours of sleep? It was unusually hot in the room and he kicked off the blanket and sheet before groaning and getting out of bed to get some water. Derek had serious words for whoever invented mornings this early. He also pushed down his pajama pants and stepped out of them and then poured himself a glass from the bathroom faucet.

Derek felt slightly better after the cool drink and wet a hand towel to press to his face. He idly scratched at his belly and tried to reach the middle of his back, but couldn’t quite reach .He leaned against the bathroom wall rubbing his back on the cool tile. That helped, but then he felt another one on his upper back and he just pulled off his tank top. He was walking back to the bed to at least rest some more if not sleep before having to actually get up for work when the light bulb in his brain belatedly flickered on.

Oh shit. Feeling hot, thirsty, itchy skin, irritable…well, even more so than usual. And now that he was alert and paying attention, the sense of his body needing something and vague horniness…Goddamnit, he was going into heat! A couple weeks earlier than expected for some reason. Fuck.

He waited until 4:00 to call Laura and she picked up on the 7th ring.

“Der?” she muttered groggily.

“Hey Laur, sorry but I’m going to need you or Aaron to cover my shift today if you want the store open before 7:30.”

His sister sighed heavily in annoyance, but then must’ve honed in on something in his voice.

“Hey, what’s going on, bro?”

“Heat.”

“Oh shit, isn’t that kinda early?” she asked surprised. He was scheduled for the most likely week off as he’d been pretty regular, but they also had an expectation of flexibility in case it happened the week before or after instead. But this was the week before that.

“Yeah,” he grumbled.

“It’s okay, Der,” she soothed, now sounding more awake. “Is there anything you need before, you know, everything gets started?”

He took a deep breath. God, she and Aaron were going to tease him about it. Then Cora would inevitably find out and be an absolute menace.

“Der?”

“Let me know if Stiles comes in,” he mumbled.

There was a pause and then words started tumbling out.

“Oh my god, for real?! Holy crap, Der. Good for you, I didn’t know that—“

Derek shook his head and hung up on her. Moments later he sent her a message:

Shut up. Love you. Thanksss!

He sighed. Now to wait. Derek couldn’t narrow it down further since he’d been asleep when the symptoms first started, but he now probably had somewhere between 11 hours at most and 6 hours at least before it really kicked in and he became an insatiable mess.

If Stiles was coming in as usual he’d have to wait another 2-3 hours before he’d know one way or the other. He also needed to make up his mind about whether to spend this heat alone or put a hold on a Service Alpha should the younger man fail to stop by or be either unwilling or unable to do the deed. The many many deeds.

Derek recoiled at the thought. Neither his human nor wolf side wanted anyone else. Being without a partner was something of a miserable experience though and would mean an extra day out of commission, 4 or so days instead of 3-ish. It also required having someone, Laura or his mother or perhaps a hired assistant, check on him once or twice a day to make sure that he was okay. Eating and, more importantly, drinking enough fluids among other things.

But he really didn’t want some no doubt perfectly decent, but not right rando fucking him even if his body would eventually get with the program. No, Derek knew exactly what he wanted and if it came down to it he would rough it out this time. He prayed to the omega gods that it wouldn’t come to that.

Come on, Stiles.

Click here for the smutty rest!

#sterek #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #sterek fanfic

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p3nope · 2 years

Text

Old Hollywood Bloopers|| Jamie Campbell Bower

Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Campbell Bower x Reader

WC: 1,556

Warnings: Swearing, I think that’s it

Summary: Have you seen the old Hollywood bloopers? So I had the idea of Jamie Campbell bower and Reader are in a film together and they’re on the tonight show and Jimmy Fallon shows the bloopers

A/N: Did I use the plot of “makeup”? Kinda. Do I care? No because the only good thing about that movie was the premise and Joseph Quinn

****

You were sat next to Jamie on the Tonight show with Jimmy Fallon to promote your upcoming movie you both were in. Jamie sat closest to Jimmy and you were next to Jamie as you three chatted and talked. You were sipping on your mug of water when Jimmy started speaking, “So this film is truly a work of art. It’s called ‘Indecency’ It’s a period thriller/psychological horror set in the early 1900s where, Y/N, your character-Charlotte- is plagued by the idea of her husband, Miles-played by Jamie- cheating on her with his secretary and she does everything in her power to try and save the relationship and get to the bottom of things.” You and Jamie nodded along as Jimmy spoke, he held up a cardboard poster with a screen grab of ‘Charlotte’ and ‘Miles’ holding each other and you smiled with pride as the audience applauded. Jimmy continued, “What kind-if any- preparation did you do to get ready for these roles?” You motioned for Jamie to go first, “Well-to premise, Y/N and I would get our hair and makeup done at the same time together so that we could continue creating that ‘long married bond’ dynamic and so the two of us would listen to older love songs when getting ready like Dream a Little Dream, We’ll Meet Again, or, Fly me to the Moon..Personally, I did extensive research on the way people would speak back then and such and Y/N was actually requested to have a Marilyn Monroe esc accent-Yaknow that iconic way old actresses would speak in old films?” Jimmy nodded and turned his attention to you when you started to speak,

“That is true, I went to a dialect coach just so that I could really nail that Old Hollywood accent.” Jimmy laughed to show he was engaged in the conversation before he started to speak, “It’s funny you mention that actually, because, I was told that there are a number of bloopers with you still speaking with old slang and that accent am I correct?” Jamie burst out laugh and you smiled while chuckling, “Yes that’s true, honestly I think it added to the charm.”

“Well, luckily for us, we were sent over those very bloopers-“ He pointed to the large screen the cameras didn’t catch that showed videos, “let’s take a look.”

****

You and Jamie were in the middle of a tense scene as you cowered in character behind him, holding onto the back of his steamed suit, “He’s here..to poison me. For Every Instant I am in danger until the next one-“ Jamie was turning to look at you to time him catching your now collapsing figure per the script. You gripped onto his arms for dear life as you whispered, “Help me…” You were supposed to look up at him but when you tried to move your head, your earring had caught onto the button of Jamie’s suit jacket. He hadn’t noticed and was confused when he saw you smile, “Help me dear god help me-I’m caught on his button.” Then you pulled away slightly and Jamie then realized what the problem was and he started chuckling as you continued to tug you earring away from him.

****

“Sandra just told me…That I was only-Nuts! That goddamned line I cannot remember it.” You looked at Jamie who was smiling ear to ear trying his best not to burst out in laughter at your struggling. You yell out to the director, “Let me do it again! Right now! Keep rolling!!”

You reset the scene and had gotten past that line you were stuck on for a bit and you looked at Jamie with fake anger as he yelled in character, “But I didn’t die, and I haven’t stayed away and I want that child!”

“Well you’r not going to have it!” You caught the fact you said ‘it’ instead of ‘her’ but Jamie hadn’t so he went on, “Is that so-?” “Son of a bitch I messed it up.”

****

You were holding hands with Jamie as you stood across one another “My darling, you need to get your head on straight, you’ve completely lost it..anymore of this nonsense and you’ll be sent off to the looney bin.” “Oh no, Miles…I have not lost-“ You stumbled over your words, “Oh my go- son of a bitch.”

****

“Charlotte, you must realize that he is not taking extra shifts, he’s probably off on cloud nine with that young secretary of his by now.” You were speaking to who played charlottes best friend in the film, the one who started the mental spiral. You two heard the *fake* buzzer of the door go off and you smiled taking out a match from the small matchbox in your hand as you started to unsuccessfully light the match, “Nonsense..That must be Miles now..I..I told him to meet me here.” You then gave up on lighting the match and huffed in frustration, “The goddamn match won’t strike.”

“CUT”

****

One of the bloopers, however, was all Jamie’s fault. His character was talking to you explaining how one of Miles’s good friends had been killed but he had forgotten the way the character had perished, “He flew one over there and never came up, never came back, never showed up-“ He snapped his fingers in defeat then smiled looking at the camera, “The son-of-a-bitch drowned!”

****

Charlotte was yelling at the secretary your husband was accused of cheating with, “And if this case isn’t settled by then, I’m going to give the estate away to the Salvation Army- and I knew goddamned well I was going to say it!” The extras standing around the fake office and the actress playing the secretary all burst into laughter as you smiled in defeat.

****

During one of yours and Jamie’s faux heated arguments you were chasing after Jamie while yelling but you were so in it that you forgot a whole line, “You know good and well I don’t care anything about your-! AHHHHH I FORGOT THE FIRST PART!!” You yelled as you quickly whipped around and ran back to your starting place.

As the scene continued (correctly) you both weren’t one hundred percent sure the blocking of the cameras, which is what lead to Jamie’s second screw up, “Oh, well I can’t be around you when you at like this!!” He yelled in anger at you before starting to storm off, but when the camera moved to follow suit he accidentally looked right into the lenses and he stopped in his tracks, frazzled, “Oh! You’re following me! I didn’t know that!” He exclaimed as he started laughing as he turned to walk back to his original place to find you keeled over laughing and holding your stomach.

****

In one of the more passionate scenes you were in Jamie’s arms, slightly dipped as you two had just departed from a long and loving kiss and you started to speak. Your overwhelming feelings for Jamie messed you up, “What was it? What was the bury-the-…son-of-a bitch.” Jamie smiled down at you and your heart did flips. As you stumbled to make the mess up an external responsibility, “That-that line was screwy!”

****

Charlotte had to talk to a doctor a bit of ways into the film, “Do you think this mania comes from the fact that you feel threatened by this Sally-Anne?” You rolled your eyes as smoke left your slips from the cigarette that you were smoking, “Isn’t it obvious? There isn’t enough uh…god- I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about I’m sure. Why did you-Why did you-? I don’t know why you hired me..Oh nuts.”

****

A scene of the first meeting of Charlotte and the infamous secretary, Sally-Anne. You waltzed through the door to the office and stuck out your right hand and spoke, “How do you do? I’m very glad to meet you-“

“Wrong hand!” The director yelled out and you started to walk backwards while stating “I knew as soon as I did it!”

****

A flashback of Charlotte and Mile’s wedding night; You were standing across from Jamie as he was handing you a glass of fake wine, “Don’t spill your drink” It was written to be a funny smart-ass remark and you had a line to speak but something came over you to just stand in front of him shooting daggers from you eyes and he whispered, “are you alright..?” You continued staring until you brought the glass to your lips and muttered, “Schmuck.” And as soon as you finished the word the two of you burst into contagious laughter.

Later in the same scene You were in the most luxurious wedding gown and flowy veil as you sat on a bench and you were supposed to turn to look at him after he had spoken his line but all you could do was speak while facing away from him, “I can’t-I can’t move my head because my whole goddamned wig will fall off!”

****

Applause and laughter erupted throughout the live audience as you and Jamie laughed while leaning on one another and you spoke between giggles, “Wow, I never realized how funny I could be without a script!” and Jamie turned to you while shaking his head, “Oh hush, love, a script can’t write your quick wit.”

#jamie campbell bower #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower #stranger things #oneshot #fluff #Jamie bower Campbell #Jamie Campbell

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iwashie · 9 months

Text

𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑽𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑶𝑴 (18+)| GOLDEN KAMUY

ft. Ogata Hyakunosuke

∗ ˖࣪ ໒꒱ ˚₊· synopsis: you work in a lodging and end up attracting Ogata’s attention, who prefers to share a room with you.

･ﾟﾟ･｡　wc: 2.7k + warnings- mdni, nsfw content, f!reader, 20+ characters, petnames(dumb doll), face-fuck,ing vaginal sex, rough sex, squirting, breeding/creampie, one night stand, implied cnc. (also on ao3 )

--------------------------------- ☆------------------------------------------

Karafuto, for lack of words, was a change of plans. So many things got out of hand, happened, and Ogata felt so many things, things that changed within him. Now he was back with Hijikata’s group, looking for the most beneficial place for him and this brought him back to Sapporo in the lodging where you worked.

The way he stared at you, his eye roaming every bit of your body, focusing on the volume of the kimono on your breasts and the bars raised, showing off your thighs; his only eye, on display, fixed on your figure, as if it could consume you right there. The grin he gave you shivered you and made you cover your body with your arms, but your insides warmed with the intensity of that stare.

After Karafuto, Ogata was a new man, with feelings exploding within him, and perhaps Ushiyama was right about pouring those feelings into the prostitutes. Perhaps, that was why Ogata- after spending much of the time he spent in the lodging, eating you with his eyes, smiling every time he noticed you looking away and face red-, was leaning against the wall, waiting for you to come back from the bath.

“That’s a beautiful sight...” You were startled to find the man who had been driving you crazy all day, leaning against your bedroom door. You wrapped the towel around your body, trying to hide your skin from that dark gaze.

“What do you want?” You stared at that man from top to bottom, your insides twisting every time you noticed how handsome he was, even carrying the gun and with that feline manner. “I’m sorry, but if it’s problems with the room, I can’t do anything. We’re full.”

Ogata leaned off the door and stopped in front of you, his tall stature shadowing you, making you swallow dry and lift your head to face him. That warm feeling in the middle of your legs with his presence so close, his breath hitting your face.

“Then I can only sleep in your room.” You cringed at his speech as he just smiled, the intense gaze descending your towel-covered body. “The customer’s need first, isn’t it?” He moved closer, his pectoral glued together with your arms holding the towel and a hand of his went towards your pinned hair, pulling you face to face with him.

“I can satisfy your needs, too.” You sighed faintly as you felt his nose close to your cheek, his raspy voice chilling you and the hand caught in your hair running down your back, making you bite your mouth to cover a moan. “Just say it.”

You squinted, resting your head on his shoulder, thoughts between pushing him away, demanding respect and pretending it never happened, especially the heat in the middle of your legs increasing with his caresses, or accepting that apparent soldier who stared at you like you were prey ready to be devoured and killing that thought of having him touch you with the same intensity he stared at you.

You couldn’t deny that from the moment the group walked into the lodging and you stared at each other, your body reacted like it hadn’t in a long time, an uncontrollable heat coursing through your body and the shivers that look gave you, turning those sensations into impure thoughts with that stranger, heat pooling in the middle of your legs. And now, there he was, offering to fuck you the way you wanted.

You lifted your face; the heat warming your cheeks, whether from embarrassment or horniness, by the way he slid his hand up close to your ass and up to your neck, the decision stamped on your face.

“Be quick, soldier.” You pushed him into your room as he let himself be guided, a tiny smile on his scarred face.

As soon as you closed the door, you were pressed against it, your back slamming hard and the man’s mouth drawing you out of air in a hungry, toothy, bitten kiss. You entwined your hands around his neck and pulled him closer, gluing your bodies together as you returned the urgency of kissing.

His hands tore off the towel, exposing your body to the icy air and calloused, rough hands that roamed every corner, squeezing and scratching, marking the soft flesh with his ferocity. You moaned against his mouth as he slapped your ass and squeezed the soft flesh. His mouth went down to your neck, sucking and biting every bit of skin he could, making you grumble in pain and clasp your hands on his clothes.

“K-kind, please.” You grumbled, feeling him scrape his teeth on your collarbone. He pulled his mouth away from your body, a hand coming up to your chin, forcing you to face him; the dark eye glowing with something more than a desire that made you shudder and squeeze your legs.

“I’m not kind, dumb doll.” He laughed softly and cupped one of your tits, sucking, biting, licking as he pleased, making you feel pain. But even with all his rudeness, the horniness spread through your body, wetting the middle of your legs.

He was being just as you thought, rude and feverish. The way you liked it.

You bit your mouth, suppressing the moans and the smile that formed with each rude way he touched you, turning you on more and more, pinning his face against your body.

He sucked your breasts like a madman; His tongue and teeth flicking your nipples as he sucked hard, making loud noises and hands squeezing your thighs, rising to your ass which was also treated with force.

You couldn’t help but push his head down towards your wet, blinking pussy in need, and entwine your legs around his body, sighing loudly at the heat of his mouth.

Ogata came down as your hands pushed his head down and his hands played with your thighs, fingers very close to your wet, aching pussy. You shuddered as you felt him huffed against your belly as his fingers got wet, sliding down your folds, shaking you and clinging to him.

“Open your legs.” He commanded, kneeling down, and you did, feeling his hands squeezing the inside of your legs, his head burying in you, drawing out a loud moan as soon as he licked a strip, his tongue covering your pussy.

You grabbed his hair and shoulders, your head against the door and your back arched as the man licking you sucked on your clit and stuck his tongue along two fingers inside your gummy, hot pussy, squeezing him tighter and tighter.

Ogata hummed against you, amused by the way you moaned loudly for more, fingers buried in the black strands and swayed your waist to his face, choking on a moan as he folded his fingers and nibbled on your bud.

His moves were so fast and rude, and it had you melting, moaning for the soldier kneeling between your legs.

“Close! Close!” You pinned his head against you, a trembling leg caught around his neck as he ate you willingly; licking patterns, circling and sucking on your bud, fingers buried and gulping all your juice.

He ate you like a starved man. And he really was. It had been a long time since he’d played like this with a woman and feeling your taste was driving him crazy.

Ogata pulled away from you, making you grumble about being close to cumming and missing the stimulus. You opened your eyes, staring at his wet face, the red mouth, the smirk. You pulled him back, controlling the kiss, hot breathing, saliva and your taste on his tongue.

You ran your fingers through his clothes, undoing any knots and buttons, hurriedly removing the thick clothes, moving down to his belt, sliding down his uniform pants and loincloth, all still kissing him willingly and his hands pinned to your waist, pinning you against the door.

Ogata smirked between kisses, rubbing his waist against yours, making you gasp and shudder as you felt his hard cock against your skin. You slid a hand down his muscular body, down to his cock and around it with the tip of your finger, making him shiver and hold you tighter, biting your mouth.

“Bed, now.” You pushed him onto the bed, eyes locked on him, walking on his back until he fell into the soft of the covers. You eyed his body, biting your mouth as you found the defined muscles scarred, his dark happy trail denoting the thick, enormous cock dripping pre-cum from the fat head.

You licked your lower lip and rested your hands on his knees, kneeling between his thick thighs on the edge of the bed. Your insides rolled in horniness. That man was entirely hot and thick; you didn’t know if you were going to handle that cock, but it turned you on even more.

“I don’t take orders, dumb doll.” He said, staring at you in the middle of his legs, kissing one thigh and caressing the other, climbing up to his cock, and a hand wrapped around your hair, pulling you close to his face, pain plastered on your face. “I command here.” You nodded, closing your eyes in pain and digging your nails into his thighs.

He pushed your head against his cock and released you, opening his legs wider for you to settle. You stared at his impassive face and moved down until you were face on his balls, slowly licking each one, sucking before moving up licking the length of his cock, your smooth tongue playing with the underside of the head and wiping the pre-cum with your tongue.

You went up and down licking the big, thick cock, having a hard time wetting the entire length.

He watched your every move, smiling as you couldn’t with the thickness of his cock, nor with the help of your hands could you do it all.

Your jaw ached, and only half of his cock was inside your mouth. You drooled on his cock, spreading the saliva with your hands and went down on him; your tongue skirting the pulsing vein and half the length of his cock as your hands covered the rest.

You stared at him through half-open eyes, your mouth sucking his cock willingly and masturbating the rest, alternating movements, drawing gasps from him staring at you. You were doing your best sucking on him, playing with the fat head on the roof of your mouth and licking the extension, saliva dripping down your chin.

You closed your eyes, pleasure sprouting through your body, knowing he was big enough to make you gag, wondering what it would be like when he fucked you, moaning on his cock.

Ogata grunted at the sensation, waist shaking and he brought a hand to the back of your head, forcing you to swallow his cock, the tip slamming into the end of your throat, making you gasp and grab his legs as he sighed heavily at the tight feel on his cock.

“Stand still.” His two hands holding your head as he shoved his cock down your throat, going deep and repeating until you choked on it, saliva dripping along with pre-cum and making you cry, hands stuck on his legs, forming marks of your nail.

Ogata fucked your face hard and fast, sighing heavily, watching you swallow his cock with difficulty and tears mingle along with the saliva on your red face.

You were running out of air and his hands were holding you in place, forcing his cock into your throat, making you let out strange noises and shudder, your pussy dripping in arouse.

Ogata stopped pushing his waist against your face and the hands still in your hair threw you onto the mattress, pulling you by the legs and forcing your ass into the air as you coughed and choked in the air.

You tried to get up, a hand extended to him and still coughing, tried to speak. “Huh, did you choke on my cock so well you can’t speak?” He let out a laugh, his hands strong on your body.

“Wait.” Your throat burned and coughed more. “Name... What’s your name?”

Ogata raised an eyebrow, soon understanding what you wanted. “Ogata. But don’t worry, because you’ll forget while I fuck you.” He slapped your ass and got you into position again, hands caressing your ass and thighs, slapping your wet pussy, making you jump and moan.

You widened your eyes and opened your mouth, a faint moan coming out as soon as his fat head came in, stretching you until you had him inside you, the thick, enormous cock making you close your eyes in pain and pleasure, squeezing him.

Ogata grunted loudly, feeling your warmth and the way you squeezed him, rubbing your ass against his waist, smiling openly and pressing his hands on your waist, going in and out deeply.

You grabbed the covers and moaned loudly, feeling his waist slam against your ass hard, the tip of his cock slamming into your womb, having you roll your eyes and moan loudly, squeezing and wetting his cock more and more.

“Squeezing so well...” Ogata said with gritted teeth, sinking inside you, making his cock disappear and shuddering you with each thrust.

You sank your head into the bed, muffling the loud moans, your hands white from the force holding the cover, pleasure spreading across your body from the way Ogata was fucking you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin, the wetness of your pussy engulfing his cock, the bed creaking and slamming against the wall, your muffled screams and his heavy gasps.

You lifted your head as you felt him spit on your ass, a scream escaping as his thumb penetrated your ass, curving upwards, holding you in place.

Ogata fucked you hard and fast, one leg up on the bed, hands gripping your waist, forcing your upper body into the bed and your ass in the air, swaying with his cock sliding in and out of your tight, wet pussy.

You let out screams, his name forgotten in the back of your head, white fingers clinging to the cover, drool and tears wetting the thin fabric, your back aching from the way he held you, ass burning from the force his waist and balls clashed with your soft flesh and belly had a bulge from where the fat head of his cock slammed; The good feeling of being fucked rudely making you clench his cock and the knot in your stomach tighten.

“O-Ogata! Ngh... Close, Ogata!” You warned between screams and saliva, squinting at the sensation exploding inside you; a loud moan escaping your plump lips and the cum squirting on his cock and lower body, which continued to abuse your warm, gummy wall.

Your cum continued to squirt into him, driving you crazy, the sore muscles, the heavy breathing, head dizzy and hooded eyes grumbling for the man inside you.

Ogata grinned as he made you squirt, pussy receiving him so well that he felt that sensation on the tip of his cock, going deeper and faster, his thumb still stuck in your ass.

Ogata cummed hard inside you, hot, thick liquid painting your insides white as you squeezed him. He came out of you with a grunt, slapping your ass, seeing his cum running down your legs, and you sliding tiredly on the bed, feeling your eyes plume.

You grumbled as you felt Ogata’s hand on your neck, pulling you into a lip press and soon your heavy body fell onto the bed, eyes closing.

When you woke up, your face was swollen from crying, your voice was just a squeak, your body had marks all over the place, your legs were still shaking, and you could still feel Ogata’s cock inside you, drawing a faint smile from you.

Ogata seemed to glow in the middle of the group as a very tall man tapped his shoulder and laughed loudly. The eyes of the man who fucked you the night before following you everywhere, that smirk on his face. The other customers looked away from you and the owner of the lodging couldn’t look at you without turning red.

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