#is too good for the nonsense of far cry

[eupheme]

— on the fence [into the fire, part ii]

part i | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 3.8k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, oral (m), exhibitionism, spanking, biting, hair pulling, light choking, sub/dom elements, PiV, radiated creampie

a/n: hi! I had a couple ideas I wanted to explore, which turned into a mini-series. I have them all mapped out & I hope to have them up for you soon! 💖

“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”

Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.

“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”

Or - the Ghoul gets you out of your Vault Suit

You’re not sure you like the look of this town.

It sprawls wide and low across the desert, the inhabitants gathering in the shadows to escape glare of the sun. A low buzzing murmur that carries with you through the streets.

It feels suffocating, after the open miles before.

Following the dark figure of Ghoul, as you wind through the streets. Partly because you have to - that leash still pulled tight, wrapped around a fist.

Partly because you want to stick close, always.

“-don’t need you slowing me down.” The Ghoul gives the rope a yank, and you scowl, “You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”

Your frown softens. His words still just as harsh, snarled out. But they’re a far cry from before.

Before, when you were certain he was going to hand you right back over to your Vault, in spite of how far you’ve come. Something significant passing in the journey through the desert, as he had taken what you wanted.

The taste of him has since faded, but he still lingers.

“Gotta earn your keep, too.” His head turns, eyeing you from beneath the brim of hat, “You good at anythin’?”

Unable to help it, you smirk - a brow raising. He scoffs in response, eyes narrowing.

“Anyone can be good at suckin’ cock, sweetheart.” He drawls, unimpressed, “’m not so bad at it, myself.”

Your lips part in surprise and he’s the one that grins, now.

The Ghoul picks up another bounty here. A shady, alley-way deal - keeping you close to his heels as he snatches the faded paper contact off a tattered board.

Running into another pair looking for jobs - a fresh scar splitting across the nose of a man who tries to start a conversation, before quickly retreating.

“Fuckin’ amateurs” muttered in reply to your heavy, silent judgement.

The client is tracked down for more information, after. Wasn’t hard to find the man with cage over the lower half of his face. Spikes that scream Raider with the way they jut through his clothes.

Fifty caps for the “goddamn no-good thief” that wiped out his stall in the night, taking every last bullet and can of cram. Last seen about two days ago, heading north.

Dead or alive, the client doesn’t care.

“Did you see ‘em?” The Ghoul frowns, “What they look like? Give me somethin’ to go off of.”

“Course I did,” The man huffs, “Looks just like me, don’t he? He’s my own damn brother.”

You can’t contain your own sideways look in disbelief, only to see The Ghoul returning it.

He bargains for a hundred, and gets it.

It’s hard not to wonder if he had taken your bounty this way. If your face had been scrawled across a piece of paper. Exchanged in a no-nonsense, disconnected way.

How much had your life been worth?

You never asked him. It’s something you’re not sure you even want to know.

The rest of the afternoon is spent stocking up. Caps exchanged for some more ammo. A couple bottles of watery chems, shoved deep in his bag to join the others.

A way the ease the cough that rattles him every few days. The smallest bottle kept out, wrenched open with a tight fist.

It snags at you - the way he swallows it like ambrosia the second he steps away. Gasping and groaning as if it’s air he needs to breathe.

“I’m good at medicine,” You tell his back - following again. Memories of the Vault pushing their way to the surface, “Could make that for you, if we find the stuff. Wouldn’t have to dilute it.”  You almost run into him, with the way he’s gone still. The tilt of his head, a single sharp eye piercing through you under the brim of a hat.

Shifting over your shoulder. Narrowing.

His hand fists in the collar of your jumpsuit instead, hauling you down the nearest alley and into the shadows.

“Hey!” You protest, your back knocked against the wall. He cages you in, knuckles pressing into your jaw with his tight grip.

The vial is pinched between his fingers, dangled in front of your face.

“You can make this?” He confirms.

You’re able to confirm it now, never quite getting a good look before. RadAway. It would be simple, compared to some of the stuff you’d had to cook up.

“Get me to a lab, some supplies,” You nod, “And I will.”

“Huh.” He’s close - you can’t help squirming in his grip, as he considers you, “Ain’t that something.”

A second, before his grip eases - but he doesn’t let go. Your bound fists rest against his chest, but there’s no force behind them to drive him off.

“Could’ve just asked.” You huff, “You don’t have to man-handle me.”

He almost smiles - his voice coming low, with a tilt of his head.

“Don’t I?”

It flusters you, how his body presses against yours. Your heartbeat kicking up a notch, your chest brushing his with each short breath.

His thumb sweeps, ghosting against your skin. Those sunken eyes dropping to your collar, with a frown.

Another glance down the aisle, before they’re dragging over you - voice lowering.

“Need to get you out of this suit.”

His words make stiffen in his arms, a sharp inhale of anticipation.

“Not so smart, are you?” He husks, his gaze dragging from your parted lips, up to your eyes, “Runnin’ around like this. Downright advertising you’re a Vaultie, when someone’s lookin’ for you.”

He’s not wrong. He tracked you down easily enough. You nod is small, a pang of regret as his fingers drop - as he steps away.

“Come on, then. I know a place.”

The place is an old saloon, the windows blasted out over two centuries ago. The gutted insides filled out with a patched-up bar, the mended tables and scattered chairs filled with patrons. Rooms to rent lining the first - and second floor - if you were brave enough to risk the staircase.

A few stalls set up alongside a wall - a barber ran by a Mister Handy with a looping stutter, the second by another Ghoul. Her few racks are filled with a patchwork of fabric, all in stained and faded patterns.

He gestures, a tilt of his head at the racks, “Pick something out, quick like.”

You’d gape at him, if you weren’t afraid he’d change his mind. Serious about your suit - you’re quick to grab a shirt in your size with only two holes. A pair of trousers, a rip at the knee.

“This ain’t for you.” The Ghoul clarifies darkly in your ear, “This is a trigger-happy town. Don’t need to be wasting my bullets.”

You hum in agreement - undeterred by his tone. The package clutched to your chest as he hands over a couple caps. Stuck over a full two weeks now in the same suit - you’re itching for the soft cotton against the skin.

Turning to leave, but then you’re halting. A couple of the patrons look familiar, hovering just inside the door. Something about that scar-

You’re trying to recall, in the crowd of people you’ve seen today - when a hand clamps down on your shoulder. Wheeling you around as the Ghoul turns to the shop owner.

“You got a room she can borrow?” There’s a change in his tone, almost a sticky-sweet edge to his drawl.

It must work - you’re shown to what used to be an old parlor room. An array of broken chairs, a heavy wooden table. The wallpaper torn and faded, the shades of cream long stained a dull, dirty yellow.

He fills the doorway - an arm propped against the frame, and you hold your wrists out to him dutifully.

You’ve worked at the knots before, to no avail - only to scowl now, as he undoes them easily with one hand.

A moment of silence hanging then, as you give him a pointed look - rubbing at sore wrists.

“You gonna leave so I can change?” You ask, “I’ll just be a second.”

The Ghoul steps forward instead, pulling the door shut behind him. An audible click, as he thumbs at the lock.

“Oh, I don’t think so, darlin’.”

A heat flares to life in your cheeks, “You’re staying?”

“That’s right,” He sinks into an old loveseat, propped up on concrete blocks near the boarded-up window, “Can’t leave you alone in a place like this. Fuckin’ vultures would swoop right in.”

You hesitate, watching him warily as an arm slings across the back, legs stretched out against the floor. If you didn’t know better then you think it was something almost akin to concern in his tone.

Or then again - he might just want to keep your bounty to himself. You had hoped you were past that, but-

“What?” His tongue pokes at his cheek, tone taunting, “Gettin’ shy again?”

The clothes are dropped unceremoniously on the table, your Pip-Boy following. A glare, as you reach for the zipper of your Vault Suit, starting to yank it down.

“Hey, now.” His hand raises, “Slowly. Got it?”

There’s an immediate urge to resist, to test him - but then, you’re catching the look on his face.

It’s hungry, beneath the brim of his hat. You start to feel like you did in the desert, and then the alley - intrigue, and desire, and an ache from his words, all melding together.

So, you take it slow. The zipper slipping from your throat, to breasts, then belly. A roll of your shoulders as you slip your arms from the tight sleeves.

His eyes follow, lingering on each inch of bare skin that’s revealed.

“Turn around.” He growls when you reach your hips, and for him - you do.

Bending at the waist as you unlace your boots and step out of them. Back arched as you wiggle, pushing the suit down past your knees. Down soft legs that part, so you can step out of them.

A glance over your shoulder, then. His head tilts, eyes sweeping from your ankles to fix on the crux of your thighs. They press together on their own, a thrill at being on display for him.

He catches you looking, his hand lazy as it drops to his lap. A lift of his hips as he adjusts, palming himself. The other hand leaving the revolver shotgun that rests on the cushion next to him.

Crooking two fingers at you, silently beckoning you over.

You fit between thighs that inch wider. His hands curl on his lap, before he’s slowly peeling his gloves off. Warm, against your hips, biting into your skin.

“Don’t make ‘em like you above ground anymore,” He idly comments, a flatness to his tone that betrays nothing.

Soft and smooth skin. You wonder if he’s thinking about ruining it - sinking his teeth in and taking a bite. Leaving a mark that you’ll carry.

You think you’d let him.

His grip dents your skin, before his hands are dropping. A heated look thrown your way, as his face tips up to yours.

“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”

Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.

“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”

It sends a heat rushing through you, knowing that he’s right. You’re locked in a room with the most dangerous man in the city, and it does something to you.

A boldness, in the way you reach behind. His growled out “fuck” when you let bra loosens - joining the blue and yellow suit on the floor.

The wood is rough under your knees. Letting your hands wander, lifting his hips while your work open his belt. Drawing down the rusted zipper.

You grasp at his hips, tugging the faded fabric until he’s free. Fingers tracing over thighs, just as rough and reddened at the rest of him. It’s still not much, but it’s more of him than you’ve ever seen.

Bare beneath the stained pants, cock already thick and full where it curves against his hip. All from just watching you - perhaps a strange thing to be proud of, but fuck, you are.

Your hands curl around his knees, as your head dips. Taking more time than you did before. Lips pressing against the taut base, as a hand twists in your hair again.

“Come on and thank me, sweetheart.” He growls - urging you upward, “Gettin’ those clothes for you. Make it worth my while.”

It’s different this time. A familiarity in the way your tongue presses against the flushed head. The taste of the salt on your tongue, before your lips are part around him.

A soft groan, when he’s filling your mouth again. You’ve thought about it often since last time. Wondering when he would have you on your knees again. If he’d want more, the next.

Your heartbeat thuds between your thighs, with the shift of his hips into your mouth - chasing his pleasure.

An urge to make him feel good. Without thinking - your hand wraps around his shaft, as your head eases back.

“Easy, now.” He grits, though his eyes are fixed on how your fingers curl around him. How it pumps, squeezing him with spit-slick fingers.

Jerking him into a mouth that parts so prettily for him. Your other hand slipping against his thigh, with feather-light brushes. A short inhale before you take him deep again, your fist sliding down to the base.

The next time you pull him from mouth for a breath, drool stringing from his cock to your lips, he hears himself growling out, “Stop.”

You’re being too tender, and he finds that he can’t stand it. Should have kept you bound, like last time.

The Ghoul’s fingers bite into your chin, your mouth glossy from how you swallowed him down.

“I’m taking you this time. Know you’ve been just aching for it.” He husks, his thumb pressing against your lip. Watching your tongue peek out to taste it, “Go on. Get up, and get your ass over to that table.”

Your desire nearly eclipses everything else. Pushing on his thighs for support, crossing the three steps to the side of the table.

“No,” He follows - the gun clattering on the table top, brought over from the couch. His hands at your hips, guiding you until you’re facing the door, “Right here, sweetheart. I’ll be keepin’ watch.”

It has you remembering where you are - that you’re just supposed to be getting changed. Wondering if you should worry that you don’t care - the thought of piping up, having the risk of losing this chance and denying pleasure again has you quickly adapting.

A hand presses at the small of your back insistently, bending you over it. You can feel him against the curve of your ass, sticky against your skin.

“Cross your wrists,” His thighs shift against yours, as you fix your hands that has flattened against the tabletop.

Making it easy for him to grasp at them with one hand - stretching them further, pressing them against the wood as he kicks your thighs further apart.

Leaving you on tip-toe, arched against him.

“Look at you, listening.” He almost coos, with another lazy rock. His cock shifts, fitting between your thighs, nudging against you.

“I think-” You start, but it’s punctuated by a moan, “Think you just like tying girls up.”

“Now you’re gettin’ it,” He drawls, “Though I don’t discriminate. Theres just something ‘bout havin’ you like this-”

The Ghoul leans over you then, his grip tightening. Pinning you firmly between him and the table, unable to do more than squirm as his free hand slips between your thighs, cupping you.

It’s the first time he’s touched you like this, and your muscles string tight - trying not to buck into his palm. Against fingers that rub against your clit, pressing the sticky fabric to your skin.

“Fuck.” He rasps in your ear. Nails bite into your hips, as he tears the fabric down to your thighs.

Coming back to press against your bare cunt, fingers slipping against your folds. You’re unable to help the soft whimper as he parts you, two fingers teasing at your entrance.

“Please,” You whine, as he pets against you. Smearing your slick up to your clit again, his fingers parting just as he reaches it.

His cock presses against your leg, thick and stiff. A roll of his hips until it’s pressed snug against your cunt - jutting between your thighs just below his hand.

“Your pussy is downright leakin for me, sweetheart,” He growls, “You need it that bad?”

You whine, your head turning to look - watching how he arcs over you. That blown-wide look in his eyes again, as you nod.

There’s a split second as his hand leaves you, before it’s cracking down on the meat of your ass. You gasp in shock as you go still beneath him, the pain unexpected and swirling with your heady need.

“Say it out loud,” He barks out, “Tell me just how much.”

Your skin stings, his fingers twitch before he kneads roughly at the flesh - the burn of it akin to way you ache for him.

“I need it,” You keen, “Need your cock. Want you to fuck me-”

The words cut off - a rough hum of approval before he’s lining himself up, a hand curving to grip your hip. The other flexes around your wrist, before he’s driving himself deep with a single, powerful thrust.

Your cry is loud, this time. Low and rough, pushed from your lungs as your pussy makes room for him.

“Fucking christ, you’re tight,” He grunts, unable to help the shallow buck of his hips, “Better than my goddamn dreams.”

It makes you moan - the gritted-out admission not lost on you.

Even with how wet you are, you still feel like you’re stretched wide. An ache radiating through you, sparking to life as he inches out, only to plunge deep again. The table bites into your hips, back arching as he sets a rough rhythm.

The sharp twinge starting to fade, as you begin to accommodate him. Growing accustomed to the heavy weight of him inside you, the steady stroke against your walls that has you starting to clench down around him.

Your breathing grows shorter, faster. Face turning to bury in the curve of your shoulder, muffling the moans that are pushed from you - until his hand is leaving your hip, twisting in your hair with a sharp tug.

Forcing your head back, his grip anchoring you.

“Don’t think so, darlin’. Know you saw those eyes on you,” He’s lost the steady edge to his voice, words turning rough, “Go on, be loud.”

The Ghoul’s hips pound harder, the rough texture of his cock stroking deep. Each sending a current through you, leaving your fingers and toes flexing, aching for just a little bit more.

“Saw you come in with me. Show ‘em who you belong to.”

“Fuck!” You cry, wishing you had a name to scream. Unable to muffle your ragged breath, the moans he pulls from you.

It fills the room, melding with the slick punch of his cock into your wet and needy cunt. Better than before, because his hands are on you now - leaving your hair, blunt nails dragging down your back. Ghosting across your hip, where your skin presses into the wood.

“Touch me.” You beg, again, “Let me touch myself, I can’t-”

His hand withdraws, and you whine - backpedaling. Afraid that he’s going to pull from you, finish himself across your back or your ass for asking.

“Please. Fuck, please. Don’t, I’m so close-”

He groans at your plea through clenched teeth.

Releasing his grip on you, only for his hand to slide to the base of your throat. His other arm looping beneath you as he hauls you against him, flattening against your ribs.

Palming at a soft breast, as you’re pulled up and pressed flushed to his chest.

“Listen to you, miss manners,” He grins - teeth bared, “That’s more like it, honey.”

The bandolier cuts into your skin, the wood into your thighs. And change in the angle that has your cries growing louder as his cock pounds against a soft spot inside you. Warm breath ghosting against your neck, deep rumbling growls in your ear.

Everything fades, growing hazy. His fingers tighten, but not enough to fully choke the air from you. An implication - your own hands wrapping around his wrist to anchor yourself to him. 

You can hear him inhale you, the scrape of teeth against your skin above the heavy press of his fingers. Salvation in the way the hand splayed beneath your chest drifts lower, his voice smooth in your ear.

“This is for listening,” He husks, “You understand?”

Relentless, when his fingers press against your clit. Slick and circling until you’re grinding into his touch, meeting the hard slap of his hips.

The gasping chant of “fuck, fuckfuckfuck,  please-” turning into mindless whimpers, his rough rhythm growing sloppy.

“Goddamn, you feel good.” It’s a ragged sigh, “Feel your tight little cunt squeezing me. Gonna make a mess, sweetheart?”

It sounds muted, layering with a ringing white noise. Your nails bite into his wrists as the swiftly building tides breaks. Almost missing the sweet growl in your ear.

“Let them hear how a pretty thing like you sounds coming on a cock like mine.”

You do, with the next swirl of his rough fingers - the sound broken as he rips it from you.

Bearing down around the cock that fits so deeply into you, with each blissful pulse of your release. Forgetting about the rest - about the outside world - as your nerves alight with pleasure.

His hand drops from your throat to brace against the table. Bending you flat again as he feels you flutter and gush around his length, crushing you against the top as blunt teeth close against the pulse point of your throat, biting down.

The sounds of his own orgasm muffled - a ragged groan as his cock throbs, as he fucks himself deep into you. Tasting the salt of your skin as you yelp, clenching around him - milking him until your walls are coated with his spend.

He hadn’t meant to - but the urge to pull from you had wavered the moment he buried himself in your cunt. Abandoned completely, after feeling you come so sweetly around him. An instinct lingers even now - to enjoy the soft press of your body against his, your warmth.

You shiver as his lips brush your neck, the closest thing to an apology as you’ll get - before he’s pulling away from you, leaving you clenching and empty.

A ragged hand slips between your thighs as you prop yourself up on your elbows, catching your breath. Pleasure still radiating from your core as fingertips swipe through the come that is just starting to leak from you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He laughs - the sound ragged, with a flash of yellowed teeth.

“Guess this means you better start cookin’.”

The Vault Suit is left beneath the table, a crumpled up reminder that you’re happy to leave behind.

Your cheeks burn as you leave the saloon - the strangers from before cleared out. A definite wobble to your steps - something that The Ghoul certainly notices, the low tilt of his hat hiding the curling pull of his lips.

Outlining the path towards the next bounty as you find your way out, guessing where you might find a lab along the way.

And it’s only as the city starts to fade, that you realize -

He never bound your wrists again, after.

I have the brainrot for this man for sure! Thank you for stopping by & reading 💖 (and I have also been reading so much about the new chem the Ghoul takes! For plot & smut reasons - I am going with RadAway, haha)

#please mind the tags! #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #fallout tv series #fallout #cooper howard

[tflaw]

had this sudden thought and i cannot for the life of me get it out of my mind: fontaine law stating very specifically that public nudity and encounters of sexual nature are strictly prohibited, but wriothesley and reader can't help themselves and get it on, even if it's in a secluded place. unfortunately they're found by neuvillette who was passing by, but he agrees not to press charges against the two if he gets to join in on the fun 🫣

౨ৎ ⋆˚ far from over ft. wrio & neuvilette + afab!reader. unprotected. creampie (like creampie). anal sex. vaginal sex. titty sucking. public sex. doggy. double pen. overstim. mindbreak. drool. mouth hooking (idk what it’s called). not proofread!

a cognizance of the rules is equivalent to owning the knowledge on how to break them. this has been proven by none other than the outstanding lord of meropide, wriothesley, when he pulled you in an alley during the dead of night just to fuck you brainless against the concrete walls. you have your back arched properly for him, hands pressed against the stone walls, as he pumps his hips— tight balls clapping against your wet and creamy pussy— to mangle your insides with his greedy cock that couldn’t wait until you’re behind closed doors.

manic with desire, you and your cunt cannot stop drooling. you’re fucked stupid at this point, eyes rolling heavenwards, with his finger hooked over the side of your mouth, pulling the muscle to reveal your teeth.

you would have fucked each other to the brim; with him jamming his cum inside your pretty pussy, and you, milking his balls dry. but the night has proven to be your enemy, and your stubborn need to sate your lust has come to bite you back.

now you find yourself before the chief justice. your pussy pulsing around the rim, sore from wriothesley’s thick girth. the recent and interrupted fucking have your brains scrambled upside down; you could barely register the disappointment bubbling out of monsieur neuvilette’s lips.

however, you’re not past comprehension. no, not at all. because you have put the pieces together when the chief justice, known for his unyielding pursuit of following the rules, divulges that no charges will be pressed to your name if you’d let him fuck you, too.

“t… too big!” you mewl on top of neuvilette, biting your lips, shuddering at the fat cocktip kissing your pussy hole. “will not fit, monsieur!”

“it will fit,” he whispers firmly, forehead bedewed in sweat, “because i said so.”

“our balls,” wrio pitches in with a certain depth to his voice, lining his drooling tip onto your asshole, “they are going to touch.”

your face falls in the crook of neuvilette’s neck. his scent drive you dizzy— along with the successful popping of his chubby cocktip into your cunt. “archons… so big… can’t fit—” your eyes cross as wrio pops his cock into your asshole. saliva begins to accumulate in the bottom of your tongue. gritting your teeth hasn’t helped much in keeping the drool inside your mouth.

“you are doing incredible, darling,” neuvilette croons, his own eyes turning heart-shaped because of the warmth provided by your cunt. “you feel amazing.”

“we’ll make you feel so good, love. be sure to take us all in, hm?” wrio leans to murmur in your ear.

they may have been speaking nonsense, for when they both thrust their cocks in unison, all your ability to think like a person has been effaced with ferocity. they have turned you into a blabbering mess, whimpering and mewling, at times screaming, when their slick-covered shafts hit your right spots. you begin to cry from the stimulation, sobbing at the sheer pleasure shredding your sanity in pieces.

neuvilette pumps his flushed cock while grabbing and spreading your ass; as though he’s in a competition against wrio who’s fucking your asshole with the same unwavering intensity. their rounded balls, filled with cum, shining with your arousal, wipes against each other as they fuck you with a rhythm.

you’ve pierced the night with a shriek when neuvilette swirls his tongue around your nipple, sucking and twiddling the other with his fingers. over and over, they have shriveled you into tiny little pieces by delivering continuous climax your way. brain mushed to bits, boneless, and fucked stupid— you begin laughing and crying from the stimulation.

wrio surrenders first; busting the fattest nut that has driven him chasing for air as the thick liquid squirts out of his plump head and into your perfect asshole, filling it with white globules to the point of seeping and flowing down neuvilette’s cock and balls.

neuvilette, on the other hand, plugs your womb with unstoppable current of viscid cum. his shaft beats like a heart while shooting his cum straight up your insides. it went on for minutes— you were almost inclined to believe that it would go on forever. with the amount of semen he’s puffed up your pretty cunt, the liquid also began to leak and mix with wrio’s. globes upon globes of white cum has adorned the duvet where both men fucked your brains out.

“are we off the hook?” wrio asks neuvilette while cuddling you in his arms, running his fingers along your bare spine.

neuvilette’s eyes flash. “i’m afraid not. the night has just begun, after all.”

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #neuvilette smut #neuvilette x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader

[starlitmark]

Summary: Is it so bad that Seonghwa wants to give his daughter a little sibling? Pairing: dilf!Seonghwa x nanny!reader Genre: smut Tropes: dilf au, forbidden romance au Rating: R 18+ Warnings: breeding kink, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, daddy kink, clitoral stimulation, creampie Word Count: 911 Note: part one of the Arousal August event!! Thank you to @raibebe for beta/proofing this <3

“Oh fuck,” you whine into the kiss, “Daddy, it’s-”

Seonghwa pulls his lips from yours just far enough that you can’t reach him. “What is it, darling?” he asks with a condescending tone.

You let out a string of moans as he picks up the pace more. You were really asking for it this time too. You’ve been making offhanded comments about giving him another baby for the past two weeks. His daughter was nearly four now, and it only seemed appropriate that he got another. What you didn’t realize was how serious Seonghwa would get about putting his returning quips about fucking a baby into you.

Seonghwa is still spewing filthy words in your direction as he kisses down your throat. But you can hardly process anything he’s saying. All you can focus on is your impending orgasm. The words you’re attempting to say are definitely not words at all. More likely than not, you’re babbling nonsense. Suddenly, Seonghwa’s thrusts stop entirely, and you finally get a moment of clarity. He’s looking down at you with concern in his eyes, searching for something in your eyes. You hadn’t even processed the tears running down your cheeks until this moment.

“There’s my girl,” he smiles softly, “I was trying to check on you, and you weren’t responding to my question. Are you okay?” he asks, wiping away a stray tear.

“I’m okay,” you confirm, “Just feels so good.”

Something darkens in his eyes, “Daddy fucks you so good you started crying? You want me to fuck you full of my cum that badly?”

You clench around him, preemptively giving him his answer. Still, you nod as further confirmation. He starts thrusting into you slowly again, and you can tell he’s about to muse about something that’ll only serve to make you more desperate.

“I wanted to be sure you were okay, but goddamnit, you look so fucking pretty when you cry for me,” he says with a dreamy lilt, “So desperate for me to fuck you full that you’re crying for it.”

With that, he returns to his original pace, and you see stars when he does so. Your legs lock around his hips as your fingernails dig into his shoulders slightly, hoping to hold on to the last threads of your sanity. More tears spring from your eyes, and Seonghwa quickly kisses them away before kissing down your throat again. Again, you feel your orgasm bubbling inside you.

“Daddy, I wanna cum,” you all but yell out in a moan.

“Aww, my sweet girl wants to cum?” he chuckles, “You aren’t waiting for Daddy to fuck a baby into you first?”

“Please, please, please,” you beg with a whiney voice, “I need it so bad.”

“Need Daddy’s cum or for you to cum? Be specific, angel.”

You whine and beg unintelligibly, not even sure what you’re begging for. All you can think about is how desperately you want your Daddy to put a baby in you. As if he reads your mind, Seonghwa takes one of his hands and begins toying with your clit, perfectly adding to his bruising thrusts. If you thought you were fucked brainless before, now you’re on another plane of existence. 

“I wish you could see yourself, sweet girl, crying for me, just waiting to get fucked full of my cum. It’s cute.”

“Daddy, please,” you moan.

“Cum, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Between his words, his thrusts, and the way he’s playing with your clit, your orgasm immediately comes barreling into you. Your legs go limp against the bed as you shake beneath him. The way your walls flutter around Seonghwa triggers his orgasm, and you feel how his cum floods into your pussy. Even after the rush of your orgasms, Seonghwa still thrusts gently and shallowly into you, riding out that post-orgasmic feeling. He lays down on top of your body, still fully inside you. You both stay practically silent for a few moments as you catch your breath.

“So,” you sigh out a laugh after a few moments.

“So?” Seonghwa echos.

“Crying?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles breathlessly, “Kinda shocked me too. You just look so fucking beautiful when-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there before you end up getting us into another round,” you tease.

Seonghwa chuckles at your comment and pushes his weight off of you as he pulls out. His eyes stay fixated on your now very messy pussy as his cum leaks out. You almost feel shy under his gaze and gently prod at him with your foot. That breaks him from his stupor, and his eyes lock on yours again.

“You okay there, old man?” you tease.

“Old man?” he asks, raising his eyebrow, “We both know that’s not true.”

“Are you not a dad?”

“That means nothing, sweetheart. You’re about to be a mom. Wouldn’t that also mean that you’re old too?” he teases back, placing a peck on your lips.

“Well, we don’t know if-”

“I’ll keep you so full of my cum you won’t have a choice but to get pregnant, my love. My daughter is with her mom this week for vacation. We have the whole fucking week for me to breed this pussy” he practically growls, fingering some of his cum back into you, “I’ll get you crying for me again too. Next time think before you start teasing me with that kind of thing. You’re about to reap the consequences for the next seven days.”

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris @almondmilkeu

#seonghwa smut #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #arousal august #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa x reader

[lendeah]

Astarion NSFW Headcanon

Warning: +18

As Astarion timidly opened himself up to you sexually, he was not accustomed to being showered with attention and lavish gestures without expecting something in return. And so, you made it your mission to show him the same level of affection he always showed. Sometimes, you two would be hugging during a kiss and suddenly he would get aroused. Without hesitation, you would drop to your knees and take him into your mouth. This act was foreign to him, so used to always being the one giving pleasure rather than receiving it. But as time went on, he found himself becoming increasingly greedy for your touch.

Even while simply laying next to each other, he would suddenly look up at you with pleading eyes and you knew exactly what he desired. You would eagerly take him between your lips, savoring the sensation of his cold flesh warming against your cheek. Your eyes would close in delight as you explored every inch of his glistening shaft, feeling his tender pink tip and the softness of his skin beneath your tongue. You would lick his slit, making him writhe and tremble slightly, savoring the salty taste of his precum in your mouth. And with each encounter, you became more skilled at pleasing him in ways that left him breathless. He loved every moment of it, reveling in the newfound pleasure that came from being on the receiving end of your affections.

Some nights, he would just be feeding from you and he would get hard against your leg. At first, he was shy about this, retreating to satisfy himself when he was finished. But one day, you just reached out and took him in your hand. "Does that feel good, my love?" you'd ask with a playful smile on your lips, causing him to let out a low grunt as he buried his teeth deeper into your neck. Other times you felt too weak to touch him yourself, so you would let him press against your leg, desperate for release as he rutted against you with primal urgency.

And don't get me started on touching his ears. One time, as you threaded your fingers through his hair, you accidentally brushed against the tip of his ear, and a soft whine escaped from his throat. After that, you began to experiment with this, slowly tracing your fingers down the shell of his ear and then back up again, eliciting soft moans from him. Sometimes you would lightly nibble on his earlobe or blow warm air against it, causing him to shudder in pleasure. And then there was that one time he couldn't hold back any longer and released himself just from the sensation of you caressing his sensitive lobe, muffling his cries against your neck as he reached his orgasm.

With time, he would start to get too greedy, and that's when you had to teach him a lesson. You would overstimulate him until he was writhing, whining, and crying beneath your touch, his cock flushed, throbbing, and dripping with desire, his whole stomach coated in a sticky mess of his own release. You would be making him come time and time again until nothing came out and he was just a sobbing mess. If he was particularly bad that day, you would also edge him for hours, wrapping your lips around him and bringing him to the brink of ecstasy, only to back off at the last second. His body would be writhing with pleasure, his words incoherent as he begged for release. By the end, he was so worked up he would just be mumbling nonsense and swearing to be more patient in the future. One more gentle touch from your fingertips would be all it took to push him over the edge, his orgasm so intense it would cause him to arch his back and grip the mattress with such force that his nails left imprints on the soft sheets.

But by far his favorite thing was when you both drifted off to sleep, with him buried deep inside of you, cockwarming him all night. He gently stirred you awake with small thrusts and kisses on your neck, until you were conscious enough and ready to passionately kiss back, taking him deeply within you once again.

#astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 prompts #astarion prompt

[moonstruckme]

Doting

summary: you feel needy for wanting support after a hard day. Your boyfriends set you straight

poly!marauders x reader ♡ 1.4k words

You sit on the couch, surrounded by all the love you could ever want, and do your best not to sulk. 

In the kitchen, Remus hums as he makes dinner, and Sirius and James are playing cards on the coffee table in front of you while you pretend to read. 

“I’m out,” James declares proudly, laying the last of his cards on the table as Sirius throws his down with a huff. 

“I’m done playing with a cheater,” Sirius says with faux malice, turning around to look at you sweetly from where he sits at your feet. “Y/N, gorgeous, want to join me for a game?”

You paste a smile on your face. “Thanks Siri, but I’m busy.” You hold up your book as evidence, and he pouts but turns back around, reshuffling the cards.  

You notice James studying your features, and you do your best to look content, normal. After years of being around the other two boys and their silent misery, James has gotten very skilled at detecting a dismal mood, and you don’t want to ruin everyone’s night. In truth, you’d had an awful day. A customer had yelled at you at work, and then you’d been stupid enough to cry while driving, almost getting in an accident due to your distraction. You’d arrived home shaken and upset, and had barely had time to pull yourself together before Sirius had come in the door  a few minutes later, Remus and James following not long after. You don’t enjoy being so delicate that having any amount of anger directed at you reduces you to a sniveling mess, and you’d resisted the urge to lock yourself away in your room in the hopes that acting like everything was normal would eventually make you feel normal. 

So far, it isn’t working as well as you’d hoped. 

If anything, it feels odd to be the dark cloud of such a joyous space; with Sirius and James laughing and bickering in front of you, Remus humming just around the corner, and the delicious smell of whatever he’s making beginning to waft toward you from the kitchen, you feel unappreciative and embarrassed for being unhappy. Beyond that, you know you have the sweetest boyfriends in the world, and they’d drop everything if they knew you were upset. Frankly, you don’t deserve their kindness when you're wallowing in self-pity over something so silly. You’d only be dragging them into your sorrow with you, and there’s no sense in all of you being down there together. You can handle it on your own. 

But James’ too-perceptive gaze seems to find some fault in your placid facade, and though you will him desperately not to, he asks, “You alright, angel?”

You give him a different smile this time; it’s smaller, a bit more honest, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah,” you say, in your most placating tone. “I’m good, thanks Jamie.” 

“You sure?”

“Mhm.” 

James’ eyes are slightly troubled, but he nods, directing his attention back to the cards. It’s too late, though, because now Sirius is turning back towards you, something in James’ tone or yours tipping him off. He sets down the deck, pulling himself up onto the couch to sit beside you, his eyes level with yours. 

“What’s going on?” he asks in that rare no-nonsense way that lets you know he’s serious. 

You hate when they tag-team you like this. James may be good at picking up on your moods, but he also knows when you want to be left alone. Sirius, on the other hand, prefers to root out any bad feelings and beat them into submission. 

“Nothing,” you say, no longer under any impression that either boy believes you. Still, you take Sirius’ hand, squeezing reassuringly. “It’s okay.” 

Sirius is undeterred, searching your face like it’ll come clean when you won’t. You can’t take the intensity of his stare and drop your gaze, but he only stoops to follow it. You’re trapped. 

“Hey,” he says softly, his thumb stroking your hand cajolingly. “What’s your deal, huh? Talk to us, baby.”  

It's the pet name that gets you, and the first tear leaks from your eye just as Remus comes in with dinner. 

He stops short at the new, sullen atmosphere of the living room, but rushes over once he sees your face. 

“What’s going on?” He sets the plates aside, seating himself on your other side.

“We don’t know,” James says, moving to sit on the coffee table, his knees brushing your legs where they’re curled up under you. “She hasn’t said.” 

“She’s right here,” you joke, but no one smiles. 

Remus takes the hand not currently claimed by Sirius. “What’s wrong, love?”

You press your lips together to keep them from wobbling, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to reverse the course the evening is taking. 

“Honey.” His tone is admonishing, but still unbearably sweet, and you crumple, more tears falling as a gasping sob escapes you. Remus pulls you into him as though he can make you a shelter out of his own body, and you go willingly. “Was it a bad day? Is that it?”

You can only nod, not trusting yourself to speak. After a beat, Sirius asks, “Are we going to have to beat someone up?”

You laugh, and it’s awful and pitchy, but it loosens some of the pressure in your chest. James’ hand finds your shoulder, squeezing encouragingly before starting to rub slow, soothing circles into your upper back. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out. 

“What the hell for?” Sirius asks, and you open your eyes in time to see Remus give him a harsh look. Sirius ignores him, reaching for you. His thumb is gentle as he wipes under your lashes. “You know you can tell us these things, don’t you?”

“I just—” You take a shuddering breath. “It was so embarrassing, and I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s night.” 

“Sweetheart,” James coos. “We don’t care. We’d so much rather know you’re upset and be able to help than have you suffer in silence all night. Besides, don’t you think you deserve the same treatment you give us?”

Shame washes over you, and you tuck yourself further into Remus’ side. “You guys never ask as much of me as I do of you.”  

James’ eyebrows jump nearly to his hairline and Sirius makes an incredulous sound, but it’s Remus who speaks. “Dove, are you serious? What about when I had a migraine last month, and you stayed home with me all day?” He maneuvers you in his arms until you’re facing him, looking you in the eye. “Or the last time James had a bad day, and you went on a run with him so he’d have company, even though you hate running? Or just last weekend, when Sirius got too wasted—” You can feel the glare Sirius is shooting him from behind you, but Remus continues—”and you stayed up with him all night holding his hair, and then in the morning you brought him gatorade and cleaned his sick out of the carpet?”

“Don’t act like you’re so needy,” Sirius says, and you turn towards his voice to find his stare just as piercing as you left it, “and we’re all perfectly self-sufficient. You’re not the only one who needs help sometimes, so if you have a bad day, we wanna hear about it.” He’s looking at you like your silliness astounds him, and James grasps your shoulder with a small smile, giving you a little shake as if to reprimand you. 

You look helplessly towards the plates Remus had brought in only a few minutes before, discarded on the edge of the coffee table. 

“Dinner’s gonna get cold,” you say mournfully. 

Remus shrugs. “I’ll microwave it. And if you wanna talk, we will, and if you don’t, you can pick us a movie to watch, yeah?”

You look at the three of them, gratitude and love both so huge and warm in your chest you can’t tell which is which. “Okay.”

“Good.” Sirius tugs you out of Remus’ arms and into his own, planting a kiss on the side of your head. “Merlin, you’re tough to get things out of. Think you could go a bit easier on yourself in the future?”

“Yeah,” James pipes up. “Be nicer to our girl, she’s had a rough day.” 

You hide your face in Sirius’ chest, flushing, but at least this time, your smile is real.

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #marauders x reader #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #wolfstar #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders drabble #marauders oneshot #marauders fluff #marauders scenario #marauders imagine #sirius black #james potter

[allfearstofallto]

Wow I loved your latest child piece, do you think he would try desperately to make his sons like him? Give them gifts and go fishing together with his oldest son? I mean he can see that the kid is terrified of him but he tries to reassure him but to no avail. I think he would let his anger out on some of his poor Fatui men or on his missions whenever these moments happen to him. That’s so angsty how Childe loves his family but they only see him as the monster they think he is.

Y'all I actually really do like writing for yandere Childe's family!! The angst is so fucking good!!

But since I can't keep up with the nameless kids, the older boy is Adonis and the younger one is Damon

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere Themes, Reader has children, mentions of previous abuse

“You look so cute all bundled up like that, my sweet,” you praised your older son, even patting his head and squeezing his cheeks the way you knew he liked. Yet nothing you were doing could lift the dark cloud that was over him, the fear in his eyes was paralyzing and he was gripping the hem of your dress so tightly, you thought he'd rip it if he were made to let go.

“P-pl-please don't send me away, mommy,” Little Adonis whimpered through tears and you felt your heart shatter. Orange hair framing his face, you brushed it to the side. You hated just how much they looked like their father, his genes so strong they were like little carbon copies of him. And their cries always tugged at your heart, you hated that he made you feel empathy for his face

With your other son still on your hip, you tried to comfort both boys. Finding it difficult to soothe with your hands full. Adonis had gone from whimpering and labored breaths to full blown sobbing at this point, wiping the tears from his chubby cheeks with the backs of his mittens. You tried to stop him from crying, tried to get him to calm down. When the older one cried, so did the younger, and soon Damon was also in your arms shedding tears.

“Your father just wants to take you out for a bit,” your voice was shaky as you tried to reassure him, “You won't even be far. The pond is only a short walk away.” Your words fell on deaf ears as they continued to cry, both of them getting your dress wet with their fat tears.

“What's all the commotion?” The voice that asked this question somehow managed to make both of your children suck their tears up quickly and fall into an almost scary silence. They peaked up at you, waiting for your response to Ajax, who was giving you his usual charming smile.

“I- I just don't think Adonis is very fond of the snow,” you spoke quickly while patting the boy's head, even cupping his cheeks to try and wipe away some of the wetness from his face.

If Childe noticed how tense the entire family has become at his presence he didn't speak on it. Instead he took a knee right in front of his son, also reaching up to pat the boy's head, but he flinched away from his father's touch. You squeezed his shoulder a bit too tightly to hold him in place, making him look up at you in a way that broke your heart. He felt as if you were betraying him, but you knew better, what Childe could do to him was much much worse.

“That's nonsense. He's from Snezhnaya, he should love the snow,” he finally got to pet Adonis’ head. His large hand that was covered in scars and callous practically getting lost in the orange locks.

“Maybe he takes more after me,” you took Childe's hand, trying to put his attention more on you instead, “It doesn't even get cold in Liyue. You remember how much I hated it here when I first arrived, don't you?”

His eyes went dark for a moment as he squeezed your hand a little too tightly, “You hated it here for a lot of reasons.”

“But the cold was the worst part,”

“Adonis will be fine,” he spoke while placing a kiss upon your lips, then one on Damon's forehead, “My father took me ice fishing when I was practically an infant.”

“I-i suppose,” words muttered with your head down.

The two of them slipped on their boots together, with Childe even helping his son tie his. You felt on edge watching the both of them leave out the door. It was the first time that you'd ever left Childe alone with him, and the instinct inside of you that was telling you to protect them was on high alert. There was nothing you feared more than your husband.

But nothing could be done. Childe kissed you again on the lips and you pressed your forehead to your sons, quietly whispering words of assurance to him and most of all Please be good.

#mai<3 answers #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #genshin childe x reader #childe x reader #yandere childe x reader

[daisynik7]

test drive

Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~4.9k

cw: exes-to-lovers, a breakup scene (flashback) established past relationship, fluff, some angst, smut - car sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, face-riding, 69 position, sex with no condom, multiple orgasms, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)

Summary: You’re moving back to your hometown of Paradis after completing two long years of grad school in Marley. In desperate need of a car, you’re surprised to hear from your ex-boyfriend Eren, who graciously offers you one.  Author’s Note: Had this in my head for a while, brain is a little fried at the moment, but I just had to get this out! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated! Header image found on Pinterest, mdni divider by @/mikeykuns.

“Eren, do you think we should break up?”

The two of you are in your bedroom, finished packing the last of your luggage before you fly out to Marley tomorrow morning. It’s near midnight on the last day of summer. The windows are open, and the chirping of crickets is loud amidst the silence of the night air. He zips your suitcase closed, peering at you, confused. “What?”

It’s been the lingering question on your mind the past couple of weeks, but you were too afraid to mention it. Maybe you were hoping that the thought would go away on its own. You didn’t really want to break up. You love him. The idea of being apart scares you, though. The uncertainty, the unknown. Two years isn’t very long in the grand scheme of life, but who’s to say you don’t end up deciding to remain in Marley for good? Eren has already made it clear that he has no intentions of leaving Paradis. Would staying together be a waste of time when the future is so unpredictable?

You bite your lip, nervous to elaborate, voice timid. “I’ve heard that long distance is really hard.”

He stands up, crossing his arms over his chest. “So? We’ll get through it.”

“Will we, though? I’m going to be busy with school, and you’re starting your new job. Plus, Marley is so far away. When are we ever going to see each other?” 

He stares at you as if you’re sputtering nonsense. “We’ll make it work,” he answers, definitive. 

“It’s not going to be easy.”

He scratches his scalp, frustrated. “I don’t understand. Do you want to break up?”

You stay quiet, contemplating. When you don’t respond right away, he says, “You do, don’t you?” He sounds like he’s been betrayed, which in retrospect, he has been. By you, of all people. The person who’s supposed to love him. 

Breathing staggered, tears welling in your eyes, you murmur, “I just don’t know if we can do it.”

He begins pacing the floor, voice increasing in volume, rightfully upset. “You don’t know if you can do it. Me? I’m all in. You’re already giving up before we try.”

“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt!” you cry.

“What do you call this, then?!” he yells, tears rolling down his cheeks. “This fucking hurts! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way sooner?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t sure! I was scared.” You sob into your hands. “I’m sorry, Eren.”

He’s shaking his head erratically, fists bunched in his hair. “I can’t believe you’re doing this right now. After all we’ve been through. You don’t even want to give it a shot.”

You swallow hard, wiping snot from your nose. “We can try it out. Let’s try it out,” you plead with him, regretting it. 

“No. It’s too late now. You already set us up for failure. Since you’re not confident about us, then maybe this isn’t going to work out after all.” He sounds spiteful. Daggers piercing through your heart in the form of harsh words. And while you struggle for breath, drenching the fabric of your t-shirt, you can’t blame him for reacting this way. You spent an amazing summer together, and the night before you leave, you drop a grenade like this. What were you thinking?

“Eren,” you beg, sniffling

“I gotta go,” he mutters, grabbing his keys, avoiding your gaze. 

“Eren, wait!” you shout, following him out the room. Down the stairs. Through the front door. In front of his car. “Eren! I’m sorry! I take it back!”

“Have a nice life in Marley,” he spits out, getting into his car, slamming it shut, and reversing out of the driveway without another word. Headlights reflect off the shimmer in your eyes, watching him leave.

That’s the last time you saw Eren. The next day, you boarded your flight to Marley and moved into your new home. You tried to call him, text him, even pestered friends and family to urge him to reach out to you. He never did. And all the while, you still don’t blame him for reacting the way he did. 

The two of you were happy. You loved each other. And when an inkling of hardship reared its ugly head, you ran for it instead of facing it. There’s no way you could have predicted that your relationship would fall apart. In fact, there’s many times that you’ve considered how much stronger the two of you would have gotten if you did stay together. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. If you had believed that sooner, you wouldn’t be living with this remorse. 

It's been over two years since that day. Life continued, though it was tough not having Eren around anymore. He was always your biggest supporter, the anchor that kept you afloat. Grad school wouldn’t have been as stressful if you had him by your side, but you managed to scrape by. You made new friends along the way while maintaining your relationships from home. Mikasa and you would chat regularly, and on occasion, she would mention Eren’s name in passing. You received little footnotes of his life through her, but overall, he’s a stranger to you now. 

That being said, you’re shocked to finally hear from him after that fateful night two years ago. 

Following graduation, you secured a job in Paradis nearby your hometown. For now, the plan is to move in with your family until you save enough money to move out. Unfortunately, you don’t have car. So, in an unexpected turn of events, you sit in the rear of a taxi, on your way to Eren’s. 

Eren: Heard you’re home and you need a car.

Those were his first words to you after two whole years of radio silence. After telling you to have a nice life in Marley. Of course, you were stunned when his name popped up on your screen in the first place, even more so to see his offer to help you. Most likely he was informed about your current situation by Mikasa. Nevertheless, it shocks you that he wants anything to do with you. 

You actually want to meet with him. It may be no more than a business transaction, but to see him in the flesh will be nice. Will it fix what happened? Probably not. It’s worth a shot, though, for some peace of mind. Maybe this is his own way of telling you that he’s over it, and that the two of you can finally put this to bed. 

So, you arrange a time to meet at his place. He gives you an unfamiliar address; it seems he moved out of his parent’s house not long after he started working. Mikasa had mentioned that before. What she’s never disclosed with you is if he’s been dating. On your way to him, your belly begins to fill with dread. Could you handle seeing Eren with another woman? Living together, happily in love? You want him to be happy, but with someone else? Deep down, you still love him. You never dated anyone seriously during your time in Marley. No one even came close to him. He’ll never get back together with you, not after what happened. In fact, you’re positive he’s already found someone, a person who will appreciate him and love him for all he is. Someone who isn’t afraid. It’s better he’s with someone else; you actually hope you see that today, so that you can finally move on. 

The trip takes over half an hour. You recognize the route being taken; the same one you would take on the way to Paradis University, where you and Eren met for the first time. During freshman year, Mikasa, your roommate at the time, introduced you to him. The two of you became fast friends, even faster lovers. The spark was there the moment you shook his hand, the moment he gazed into your eyes, flashing that charming smile at you. It was casual at first, no labels, no strings attached. Two horny college kids fulfilling their sexual desires exclusively with one another. Kisses and sex soon became something more, something special. By the time you were sophomores, it was official: he was yours and you were his. 

The driver enters a quaint neighborhood, pulling up to the front of a modern apartment complex. Once you pay the fare, you step out, inspecting the building. Eren lives on the third floor; each unit has a balcony overlooking the neighborhood, the nearby cityscape in the near distance. It’s a beautiful location and your curiosity gets the best of you. Who is he currently sharing his life with? Do they watch sunrises together from their grand view, sipping their morning coffee in domestic bliss? Should it be you instead? 

Before you get carried away with your imagination, you retrieve your phone from your bag, texting him that you have arrived and are waiting outside. There’s no reason for you to head up into his apartment, right? You’re here to check out his car; that’s it. You can’t help thinking that it would be fun to check out. For research purposes, of course.

He replies quickly, mentioning how he’ll head down to you. You take a few deep breaths, mentally preparing yourself to see him for the first time ever since your bitter goodbye. Do you hug him? Keep your distance? Should you say anything personal or keep it strictly professional? All of these conflicting feelings are fighting with each other in your head. There’s so much you want to tell him: your life the last two years, how sorry you are for the way it ended, how much you miss him. At the same time, you want a clean slate, almost as if you’re strangers meeting for the first time. 

As he steps out from the lobby, you freeze on the spot, dazzled by his presence. What strikes you initially is how long his hair has gotten; it’s enough to put up into a small bun, with a few stray strands scattered around his face. His eyes are as brilliant as ever, barely visible dark circles underneath from age or stress, most likely the lather; it hasn’t been that long. There’s still that youthful charm about him, though. That will never fade.

He's dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black sweats pants, an outfit reminiscent of his college years, laid-back and casual. You’ve always liked this look on him, always found it sexy. Too many memories of you stripping this exact attire off him, hasty to make love in the twin bed of his dormitory. You try to shake these thoughts away as he approaches you with a rigid disposition, hesitant and a bit awkward. He clears his throat before saying, “Hey.” His hands are in his pockets as he greets you. 

You respond with a gentle smile. “Hi.”

This is going to be harder than you thought. 

~~~

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since they broke up, since he last saw her. Two whole fucking years. 

Eren didn’t want to break up. The thought never even crossed his mind. He was determined to be with her the rest of his life, of their lives. That’s why he got so upset when she suggested it. They spent an entire summer together, perfect in every possible way, and she had the nerve to ask that question the night before the big move? Do you think we should break up? He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. They were supposed to love each other forever. 

It doesn’t excuse the way he behaved to her afterwards. Instead of discussing it like a mature adult, he exploded, too caught up in the storm of emotions raging in his head. His ego was hurt, pride shot down, heart betrayed. Following that night, Eren was too ashamed by the whole ordeal; he thought it’d be easier to ignore it and move on. 

Move on. Yeah right.

He replays those scenes constantly. Her pleas of We can try it out. Let’s try it out. I’m sorry! I take it back! ringing in his ears like a broken record, reminding him that if they talked about it, if he had just turned around to work it out, maybe they’d still be together. They’d be happy. It’s the biggest regret of his life; not fighting for her and letting her slip away. A fleeting moment of weakness and fear leading to their ultimate demise. A tragic ending to such a beautiful story. Can they ever get the happy ending they wanted? 

He tried to date other women; it never amounted to anything serious. Eventually, Eren gave up on the dating scene all together, focusing his energy on other priorities like his career and friendships. He was hoping that one day, he’d magically be over her.

When Mikasa informs him about her move back to Paradis, he knows immediately he needs to meet with her. Seeing her one last time might be the key to moving on once and for all. So, he finally decides to be mature and contact her, under the guise of giving her one of his cars. In his defense, he’s been meaning to sell it anyways. He never could quite let it go, though, considering it’s the car he drove all throughout college, with her. Late night drives to Maria’s Point, holding hands and kissing beneath the stars. Fast food runs at their favorite drive-thru, her feeding French fries to him from the passenger side, cruising through the empty streets with their favorite music blaring through the radio speakers. Even the backseat has seen plenty of action during those years, the foreground to many naughty trysts away from campus. Every corner of it carries a memory of her; that’s why he’s been so reluctant to let it go. He still loves her. But that’s all in the past. This car will be the final peace offering that will allow him to move on. He’s got it all planned out. 

What he’s not prepared for is the rush of emotions that flood his chest upon seeing her. This is definitely not part of the plan. 

When he greets her, she smiles at him, the same radiant smile he’s yearned for the two years of her absence. One that instantly warms his soul. He does his best to maintain his composure. Keep it together, he thinks to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets while he clenches his fists, bursting at the seams. This isn’t part of the plan. 

He kicks the ground with his heels, fidgeting. “So…it’s been a minute, huh?” He does a mental eye roll to himself. Did he really say that? Idiot, idiot, idiot. 

She giggles, and he nearly combusts. How is it that a simple laugh can ignite every fiber of his being? He’s a fool for assuming he could get through this unscathed. “Yeah. It has. How are you?” Her expression is sincere; he always loved that about her, how intently she listens, how much she cares. Even after their harsh breakup, that sincerity remains. She’s making this much more difficult than he expected. 

He shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m okay. You?”

She mimics him, raising her shoulders. “I’m alright.”

He chews his lip nervously before asking, “Well, do you want to check out the car?” Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan, he reminds himself. 

She nods, following him to the parking garage to his designated spot. Her eyes widen when she sees it. “You want to sell me this?”

“Yup.”

She inspects it, mouth parted, surprised. “Wow. The Titan.”

He busts out in laughter, amused that she remembers the silly nickname they came up with freshman year. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

She turns to look at him, eyes twinkling, lips curled into a warm smile. “How could I forget?”

He swallows hard, saliva thick on his tongue. Fluttering in his core, tingling through his fingers. The question stumbles out quickly. “Want to take it out for a spin? A test drive?” 

Eren’s aware that this is dangerous territory. The two of them, enclosed in the small space of his car, memories in every crevice of the interior. It’s his chance to properly apologize for what happened. That’s how he justifies it, at least. Part of him also wants to recreate their past together. Riding in his car, fingers laced together on the center console, singing their favorite songs with the windows rolled down, wind blowing on their smiling faces. It’s infeasible; he doesn’t even know if she feels the same way. There’s that tiny portion of him that holds out hope; she did agree to meet him. That means something, right?

She contemplates for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive, though?”

“Still the passenger princess, I see.” 

“Some things never change, right?” She gives him a wink before stepping to the side of the car, waiting for him to unlock the doors. 

He gulps, thrilled and jittery at whatever adventure they’re about to embark on. In the corner of his mind, all he can think is 

Fuck the plan. 

~~~

You weren’t supposed to get in it with him. The idea was to meet him and do the exchange, simple as that. When you recognize the car, all the memories you shared flood into your mind. You let your emotions get the best of you; you want one more special moment with Eren. It’s only fair to your relationship to end it on a good note, right? You weren’t expecting anything more than closure, which was what the both of you needed. 

He doesn’t tell you where he’s driving to, but he doesn’t have to. By the time you’re on the highway, you watch the sun set in the distance from the rearview mirror. You pass by multiple signs, indicating Maria’s Point in x number of miles, the amount decreasing the closer you approach it. The two of you chat, condensing all from the past two years into a half hour car ride. You describe your experience in grad school, he talks about his full-time job. It’s cordial, like two old friends catching up after a while being apart. Except the both of you are fully aware of the elephant squished in the backseat of The Titan. Neither of you mention anything about it.

He drives up the familiar hill leading up to the panorama at the top of the cliff. This spot of Maria’s Point is often secluded, which was perfect for you and Eren back in the day. He parks away from the edge, the last rays of orange and pink hovering on the skyline. With a twist of his keys, he shuts off the ignition and it’s silent. Suddenly, after effortless conversation, you’re shy, unable to speak. 

Luckily, he does. “I actually want to talk to you about something important.”

You snap your seatbelt off, adjusting to give him your full attention. His hands remain on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry for the way I acted that night.” He doesn’t need to elaborate; you know exactly what he’s referring to. You’re caught off guard from the apology, so you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue. 

After a deep breath, he explains, “I blew up, and I shouldn’t have. I got upset because I thought you had given up before we even tried. But I know you were scared; I was too. Regardless, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry. For that and for avoiding you after.” He slides his hands around the wheel, dropping them to his lap. His eyes are forward, avoiding you. 

When he doesn’t have more to add, you respond. “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blindsided you. I should have told you how I was feeling instead of ignoring it until the last minute. Like you said, I was scared, so I ran away from it without even giving it a shot. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to us.” He’s focuses on you now, listening carefully as you talk. “Just so you know, I never blamed you for how you reacted. I deserved it.”

He shifts his body towards you, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t even say goodbye.”

You blink away the oncoming tears from your eyes. “It’s okay, Eren. We can do that now.”

The stillness that follows is concerning. He studies you with an unreadable expression, contemplating. Then, he leans closer to you, elbow resting on the center console, his breath tickling your cheeks, whispering, “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

You gravitate towards him, lessening the space between you, gazing at his lips. “You don’t?”

“I never wanted to in the first place.”

Drifting forward, you rest your forehead to his, the skin-to-skin contact rekindling the spark that burned so brightly not too long ago. “Eren.”

“I miss you,” he confesses. “Every fucking day.” 

His lips graze yours, eyes watching you, waiting. Unable to hold back any longer, you kiss him, melting into him seamlessly. The two years of remorse vanish in an instant, and you’re transported in time, as if you were never apart. You touch your palm on his chest, his racing heartbeat thumping against your fingertips. He slides his hand around the nape of your neck, cradling you gently, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft on yours, prudent and delicate, careful not to overbear you. 

You pull off to catch your breath, clutching at his t-shirt so that’s it’s bunched into your fist. “I missed you, Eren.”

He swallows loudly, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “I missed you so fucking much,” he mutters, driving his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you desperately now. He drinks you up like he’s dying of thirst, the only cure to his drought. You match him, opening wider, swirling your tongue with his. His lips trail to your neck, sucking on the pulse point beneath your chin.  

“Eren,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair. 

“I love hearing you say my name. Fuck,” he swears, licking at the spot. He marks you on the other side, nibbling lightly at your skin with his teeth. “Did you ever think about me?”

“Every day,” you admit, eyes closed as he moves to your ear, pinching your lobe between his lips. “And you?”

“All the time,” he answers. He breaks away, cupping your cheek tenderly in his palm. “I’m still in love with you. I love you.”

Your breath hitches, throat tight with emotion, though you manage to utter, “I love you too.”

He beams at you before suggesting, “Should we get out of here? Go to my place?”

Tugging at his collar, you shake your head with a smirk. “I can’t wait that long.”

Understanding what you’re implying, he suggests, “Backseat?”

You give him a wet smooch and a nod. He chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Are you that needy for me, baby? Can’t even wait to go home?”

Glancing at his lap, the evident bulge protruding from his sweats, you scoff at him playfully. “Don’t act like you aren’t either. Look how big you are already.”

He grins, exiting the driver’s side and quickly sliding into the backseat, spreading his legs wide, hoisting his shirt off to reveal his chiseled torso. “You’re right. I’ve been waiting two years, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

You follow him to the rear, shrugging your blouse and pants off hastily until you’re down to your underwear. He marvels at your bare figure, licking his lips while you kneel beside him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, scanning you up and down, almost in disbelief. “Would you think about me whenever you touched yourself?”

Nestled to his lap, ass sticking out, you nod, rubbing your face on the erection straining against the fabric. “I only thought about you, Eren.”

“Fuck,” he groans, mesmerized. He pets you, brushing his thumb across your cheeks. “Me too, sweetie. No one makes me come the way you do.” He lifts his hips to slide his bottoms and boxers down his legs, exposing his hard cock standing stiff and pretty, glistening with precum leaking from the tip. 

You’re salivating, spit coating your entire mouth, hungry for his cock. Without wasting another second, you swallow him, surrounding him in your wet heat until he hits the back of your throat. He bucks up slightly, thighs trembling beneath you. “Fuck,” he swears, trailing your spine, gliding to your ass. “Always so good to me.” He slips beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. “Can I fuck you with these fingers? Please?”

You nod with his cock in your mouth, slurping the drool trickling on his shaft, bobbing on him. He slides one in, then another, pumping them in and out of you as you moan around his dick. He wriggles inside you, stimulating your sweet spot, gushing on his digits with your first orgasm. His follows immediately after, his load spurting onto your tongue, guzzling every last drop of him. 

You release him, turning over so your head is resting on his lap, peering up at his face. His hand is between your legs, rubbing the soft plush of your thighs, smiling down at you. He teases your clit, flicking his wet fingers on it, causing you to whine. 

“You still like it when I play with you like this,” he purrs, watching you twitch from the pleasure. “My good girl always comes so much for me.” He caresses your forehead gently, toying with your swollen bud. “Can you give me another one, princess?” Too many times do you remember him pleasuring you, sitting in the passenger seat, you gripping to his wrist, directing his hand to your pussy. Tonight is no different; he’s just as relentless, tapping away at you until your creaming for him once more. 

“I need to fucking taste you,” he growls, slipping his fingers past his lips, licking them. “Sit up, sweetie. Ride me while you make me hard again.”

It’s clumsy maneuvering in the cramped space, but eventually, you get into position. He’s below you, slurping at your sopping pussy as you’re bent over his cock, licking the head as you stroke him off. The windows begin fogging up, the air sweltering and humid. Your knee digs uncomfortably into the cushion, the other hangs off the edge of the seat, foot planted to the floor. Eren manages to fit his impressive stature, one leg angled and stretched towards the driver’s side, the other laid across the backseat, enough space for you to blow him while you ride his face. 

“I missed this sloppy cunt,” he muffles, spreading his tongue on you. He spits, smearing his frothy saliva across your clit, puckered around it, sucking. 

Once he’s hard again, you beg, “Fuck me, Eren.” You’re close to another climax and you’re desperate to come with him in you this time. “Please.”

He laughs, lifting you off, his face glossy with your slick, covering his nose, mouth, and chin. “Whatever you want, princess.” He sits up against the seat, legs splayed like a throne for you to sit pretty on. You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy on his cock before guiding it into your entrance. 

You both drawl out, “Fuck,” kissing messily, arms wrapped around each other in a snug embrace. You ride him feverishly as he fucks up into you, gripping onto your hips tightly, bouncing you on his dick. You’re both sweating immensely, the temperature in the car sweltering, but neither of you mind it, too concentrated on each other’s orgasms, too addicted to the high you’re chasing together. 

“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he groans, picking up the pace, his thighs slapping lewdly against your ass.

“Come inside me, Eren. Fill me up,” you whimper, pushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead. 

“Yeah? You want it? Take it then. Take it sweetheart.” His eyes are shut tight as he shoots his load, thick cock pulsing inside you. You ride out your orgasm with him, scattering delicate kisses on his face. He grins, gazing at you with a hazy expression. 

“What’s that look for?” you ask, booping his nose. 

“Nothing,” he replies, cheeks rounded into a bigger smile. He squeezes your face between his palms. “I’m just happy. So unbelievably happy right now.”

You place your hands over his, leaning into his touch. “Me too.”

You stay comfortably like this for a few minutes, Eren cracking the windows open to let out some steam. You joke, “So, are you still going to sell me this car?”

He chuckles. “How about I give it to you. I was going to anyways.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was supposed to be a peace offering. But I like this outcome way better.”

“Me too. But I’m not going to just take it from you. Let me pay you for it.”

He tips your chin to look at you, grinning wide. “How about you move in with me instead?”

“What?” you giggle, unable to contain your smile, thrilled by the suggestion.

“Move in with me,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose to yours. 

“Isn’t this is a little too soon, considering we just got back together?”

He stretches his arms out, relaxing into the seat, smirking at you. “We already wasted two years without each other, I’m not wasting any more time.”

You scoot closer to him, kissing his cheek, then his lips. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”

#eren smut #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager #eren yeager smut #Eren Yeager x reader #Eren Yeager x you #aot smut #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #attack on titan eren #attack on titan x reader

[upsidedownwithsteve]

my customer is running late and i'm in A Mood, so here we are

18+

“Keep watching, honey.”

You squirmed, trying not to make a noise. Not that you would’ve been heard, the film was playing loudly on Steve’s television, horror movie sounds making you flinch in fright every now and then.

It was hard to focus on the plot though, the storyline a senseless thing, cut up scenes of bad fake blood and awful zombies, all of it nonsense after Steve told you that you could sit on his lap. It had only taken ten minutes before your sleep shorts were pulled to the side, the boy taking his cock out of his sweats to let you grind on it.

He’d hissed when the length of him met your bare cunt, slick and warm, watching in awe as it slid between your folds. He kept one hand on your hip, letting you rut back and forth, the other squeezing at your thigh to keep you spread for him.

You whined, even though you weren’t supposed to, biting down on your bottom lip as your lashes fluttered. Even though you had your back to Steve’s chest, he seemed to know, running a quick hand over your slit so you jerked against him.

“Eyes open, you know better than that.” Steve’s nose nuzzled at your jaw, kissing sweetly at your cheek when you nodded for him, starting up that slow, dirty grind again. He was achingly hard, leaking at the tip and adding to the mess between your thighs. The front of his sweats were a darker grey in patches, all because of you - it was filthy, just the way he liked it.

“She’s soaked for me, isn’t she? Poor thing just wants more,” Steve whispered, letting his hand wander back between your thighs. His let his fingers rub over your clit, touching at his cock when you slid back too far. You lifted yourself a little, getting desperate, crying out when the head of him caught at your entrance, nudging up and stretching you out for just a second. Steve tutted. “Ah, ah, honey, c’mon now. Not yet.”

You wanted to cry, eyes turning glassy ‘cause your poor clit was swollen and puffy, desperate to come. You pouted, leaning back against the boy and grinding down harder, splitting your cunt over his cock until you felt it twitch.

“Needy thing,” Steve cooed, wrapping his arms around your middle. One big hand travelled up across your chest, cupping at your tits before he caught you chin between a finger and thumb. “Pretty thing.”

He directed your face away from the television, where you’d been told to look. Instead, your gaze landed on the armchair in the corner, where another boy was sprawled lazily. He was just as pretty as Steve, with his own jeans unbuttoned, his cock in his hand as he stroked it slowly.

“Gotta keep rubbing this pretty cunt on me,” Steve whispered, his lips at your ear. He squished at your cheeks until you let out a little whimper, stare heavy on the other boys hard cock and the way he was fisting it. “Gotta keep goin’ until Eddie says otherwise, you know the rules.”

Eddie smiled at the reminder of how he was in charge - tonight, at least. He swiped a thumb over his tip and tilted his head back, watching you from under his lashes. He let out a small sound when you picked the pace back up, spreading your thighs as obscenely as you could, letting yourself slip over Steve’s cock until he was as soaked as you were. Eddie swore when Steve hooked his fingers into your sleep shorts, tugging the material aside so he could really get a good look.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice was wrecked, a raspy thing from his panting breaths. “You heard Stevie. Maybe when we finish this movie, I’ll let you ride him, huh?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steddie x reader #steddie x reader smut #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #steve baby blurb #eddie baby blurb

[vixensp1ce]

breeding kink with hsr

fem!reader, under the cut

blade doesn't so much have a breeding kink than he likes finishing inside you. nothing feels better than your warm wetness gushing around him as he fills you up, your walls milking him relentlessly as your entire body shudders and jerks beneath him.

he growls in satisfaction every time the curve of your ass hits his abs, his balls slapping wetly onto your skin as he pounds you from behind. a pillow rests below your hips, but blade opts to raise your ass himself; he knows what angles you like best, after all.

"come on, come on..." he isn't sure what he's saying anymore. but his eyes are fixed onto his dick, so thick compared to your tight little hole, sliding in and out of you at the feverish pace he's set. his legs are dripping in the cum that you'd sprayed all over him before, but he hasn't given you a break yet.

your body twitches from overstimulation, your hips jerking up to give him better access and jerking down when it's too much. you're babbling nonsense at this point, the words lost in your pleasure.

the full length mirror shows your breasts rippling with each thrust, and blade fucks you harder. you can't see it, but his eyes are alight, glowing as his orgasm edges nearer.

he grabs at handfuls of your flesh, his moans getting louder and louder at the drag of your walls against his dick. oh, imagine how pretty you'll be when he's done with you, those breasts, that stomach, your adorable, fucked out face covered in his cum as he lays his claim. your tiny little pussy made just to hold his cum, to squeeze him and make him feel so good-

blade orgasms with a loud, long groan, thick, hot ropes of cum shooting out onto your g-spot, driving you over the edge. you cum too with a cry, your hips desperately stuttering to get every bit of friction you can, blade not even slowing down as he works you both through your highs.

there's so much of him a white ring begins to form around the base of his dick, cum dripping out in globules, and only then does he slow down and pull out. no, he's not done with you at all - he's just pushing his seed back into you with his fingers. his sweetheart is so good to him, surely you can take it, right? :)

general jing yuan is more than capable of taking care of the consequences of most of his actions - even if those consequences include babies. how could he help himself? you'd look so adorable when that bump from his cum swells into children of your own. it's just another way people get to know you're his.

he makes sure to finish on your inner thighs first before sliding in. that sticky web of yours and his cum together sends a buzz to his head, every time his fingers work your legs apart or his skin makes contact with yours.

you're so needy tonight, having finished already, but still whimpering and moaning like you haven't. jing yuan rubs slow circles into your clit, pulling all the way out before slamming back in.

"ah~! yuan, please, inside, please, please, please, i want you, ah~"

oh, begging like that, how can he say no? jing yuan picks up the pace, pressing down your back with one hand and raising your hips with the other, earning himself another wave of praise.

"does that feel good?" he murmurs into your ear, leaning over so his warmth envelops you.

"mm, ah, so good, so good- ah~" he hits a particularly sensitive spot and your eyes roll, back arching so far your nipples brush against the bed. the extra simulation has you whimpering like an adorable puppy, and jing yuan kisses your shoulder.

his thrusts remain deep, making sure you feel every inch of him, making sure every inch of you gets filled up, but he speeds up. the wet sounds are almost too much to bear, knowing that the two of you are interconnected in so many different ways...

"so cute, so cute, filling you up, gonna make you mine..." his dick twitches and twitches, oozing precum that sticks to your insides, the curve of the shaft pressing it into your walls.

"yours," you cry. "all yours, only yours-!"

#blade smut #jing yuan smut #hsr blade #blade hsr #jingyuan smut #hsr x reader smut #x reader smut

[ephemeral--dreams]

Making you cry during a fight (2) - Scaramouche, Yae, Kaeya

Okay guys here you go never ask me for anything ever again /j

(part 1)

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

Scaramouche

There's a sort of deep, instinctive fear that takes root inside the place where a heart would be, as he watches tears fall after a few too-harsh words. 

He's hurt you. He's been careless, he's been too difficult, too much - and it's going to drive you away. You're going to abandon him because of this incident, surely. Why would you stay with someone who makes you cry? 

It's… it's not a feeling he's dealt with for many years. The fear of being left. He has not allowed anyone to get close enough to him to have any concern over whether they're around or not. Scaramouche had learned his lesson about getting attached and having emotion, after all. He had spat out whatever  bitter words he pleased and felt nothing when he upset anyone he spoke to.

But those days are past, and while that's a good thing in many ways, right now it feels anything but. 

"I-"

"Sorry. I shouldn't be crying," the way you apologize as if you're the one in the wrong stabs right through him. You're the one crying, yet he is being wounded just as much. It's an awful thing, caring. "Just. Just give me a moment…"

Scaramouche hesitates. He's paralyzed, caught up in the idea that anything he does or says may make things worse. But what wins out is the idea of fixing it, fixing things before you give up on him—

"Stop it. You shouldn't be the one saying sorry here. I shouldn't have said that to you, alright? You should know better than to take everything I say so seriously, honestly, I-" he sighs, irritated with himself more than you, before pulling you into his embrace. You don't pull away. Good. Maybe he hasn't entirely fucked things up. "...I didn't mean it. Sorry."

Yae

Yae Miko is not the sort of person who yells during a fight. Or at any time, really. So that hadn't been at all what had happened during your little conflict. 

Rather, her words were pointed to hit where it hurt, an attempt to shut down whatever silly human nonsense you thought was worth causing a riot over. Problems came and went, and most weren't nearly as important as they may seem in the moment. Living many years had led her to this conclusion. She was a busy woman who had little interest in wasting her time arguing. 

...Calculating and perhaps dismissive she may be, but she isn't cold. Yae still very much has a heart, and it skips a beat when she realizes you're nowhere to be found at the usual time she would meet with you after finishing her shrine duties. Surely you weren't that upset over it all, right? 

No, you couldn't be still lingering on the issue hours later… 

Well, you could. Others were far more sensitive to these things, a fact she often forgot. Yae should know better. Isn't she used to highly emotional people, after all? At least your tantrums weren't going to practically destroy the nation…

She finds you at the foot of the mountain, sitting and idly staring into the distance. The tear tracks on your face are all too telling. 

Yae is not above realizing when she has done something wrong. Though she's also not one to openly apologize. She doesn't do much of anything openly. 

"You don't listen to me," you tell her. 

"Well, I'll try to listen more, then. Is that satisfactory?" She offers a hand to you. You wait a moment before taking it, allowing her to pull you up. "Just remember to consider my side of things as well. We can work on it… But let's not linger on this too long. Time is fleeting for mortals like you, hm?"

Kaeya

Kaeya is excellent at one thing - avoidance. In fact, he's been successfully avoiding you ever since your fight a couple of days ago. It's easier to simply wait until you've both cooled off. 

That's what he tells himself. It's certainly not  that the fight made him feel anxious. He's not running away from his problems, of course not.

(He's lying to himself. One wrong word and you'll leave. He knows that. It's bad enough that you had an argument, archons forbid he confronts you and it's the last straw.)

So Kaeya carefully stays out of your way, doesn't speak to you, doesn't let you catch sight of him. He'll have to deal with things eventually, he knows, but… Until then, he's content to keep things this way. Four days in you finally seek him out yourself, looking exhausted and absolutely miserable. 

"Can we- can we stop fighting? You're right, I'm wrong, all that-" He can only watch as you start breaking down in front of him, a cold, sinking feeling of guilt settling in. "...Just stop ignoring me, please?"

His life has been filled with bad decisions - it seems that he's made yet another, by avoiding you so long. Now Kaeya is faced with your tears as you practically beg for his attention. It's quite the opposite of what he intended. He reaches a careful hand to brush them away. "Shh, shh. No more, alright?"

You sniffle, looking up at him. "You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. I never was. We can talk about it later, okay? Let me make you feel better."

#scaramouche x reader #yae miko x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #story unfolding

[lovely-josuke]

❝EUROPEAN NONSENSE — SPIDERVERSE HCS

summary ; hobie with a hispanic girlfriend who loves to cook and makes her food spicy or very seasoned when he doesn’t use seasoning as much.

pairing ; hobie brown x hispanic fem!reader (no specific race stated)

note ; i sometimes forget hobie is british but writing this concept was so much fun to do lmao 😭 thank you anon for this request <3 i just hope our boy really doesn’t just season his stuff with salt only because of that.

• — hobie brown !

had a cough attack. this was deadass him the first time he tried your cooking.

now, the only reason you made food for him was because you caught what he was eating the day before. it was the most driest, whitest, piece of chicken you’d ever seen. it was so bad, you could hear pavitr crying his heart out all the way from a different dimension about “european nonsense”.

you remember just staring at the chicken on the plate. no seasoning, only salt. the worst part is, he had just drained it from the pot and you could see the steam coming off it. sits down with his knife and fork. you were just staring in disbelief and you asked him while pointing at his so called dinner, “hobie what is this?”

he looks at you and said, “what? have you never seen chicken before?” you don’t know what that thing was but it definitely was not chicken.

tells you that it’s good and you should try it. GOOD? you nearly lost your mind right then and there when he stabbed it with his fork and just bit into it. you’re convinced he’s a psychopath because even you wouldn’t stoop this low.

no way we’re you gonna have your boyfriend eat this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner 🙅🏻‍♂️ not when you know you can cook up the best meal he’d ever have in his entire life. you let him eat that dry chicken though because he needed to suffer for saying it was good.

you had told him to come over for dinner and he’s like “finally i’m gonna get to try your cooking” since you always told him how much you love cooking. actually, hobie starts coughing the minute you open the door for him to come in. hobie had taken a deep breath and was gonna say how nice it smelled before el chile hit him unexpectedly.

never smelled this amount of spice before. you had to open the windows to air the apartment out. you’re use to the smell so it’s not like it bothers you. he’s waiting out in the living room, still coughing and now you know he’s probably doing it on purpose.

you wait until the smell has calm down before you tell him the food is ready. pretends he died from hunger because you took too long. you’re surprised he didn’t choke on the dry chicken.

you decided to make him some empanadas de carne molida y de pollo which, unknown to him, was drenched in salsa roja and seasoned to your liking. you’d had the toppings prepared too. red onions, cilantro, lime, tomatoes, and several other things so he could taste it.

“by the way, i made sure not to make it spicy.” you told him that as you both sat down and he trusted you. which he wished he didn’t. you had two empanadas on his plate, one of each and pointed out which one was which and he went to try the chicken one.

first bite he was fine until the spice kicked in and he just looked at you and started having another cough attack like, “🤨 you’re sure this isn’t spicy?” you had to get him some water and he had to wait a little bit before eating again.

you told him to try it with the salsa you’d made. you did a red one and a green one. and according to you, the green one was the one that wasn’t spicy. naturally, he went for la salsa verde only to be met with a burning sensation far worse from the empanadas.

you had to apologize so many times to him but he told you that it was fine especially since you’re just used to the taste and smell. and it’s not like you did it on purpose. “🤨 or did you?”

after his experience, he doesn’t trust you when you say it’s “not even that spicy”.

but trust me, once he’s hooked, he’s hooked. never sees any kind of food the same. and it’s so hard to make him stop coming over whenever it’s dinnertime.

hobie just knows and he’s crawling through your window in his spider suit asking what you made for the two of you to eat. even has tomatillos and chiles verdes in a small plastic bag so you can make a salsa. meanwhile you’re just standing in the kitchen, knowing you only made enough for yourself.

you ended up having to teach him how to season his food. he prefers yours ten times more though so yes, he still shows up for dinner.

#atsv x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x you #hobie x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #hobie brown x hispanic reader #x latina reader #latina reader

[cybersunnie]

✶ : PRIZED POSSESSION

CORIOLANUS SNOW x F!READER nsfw (18+ / MDNI), smut, piv, cannibalism metaphors

Coriolanus sunk his teeth into everything that was his. 

And you were his prized possession, but you were difficult to tame.

You considered yourself independent; Coriolanus considered you stubborn. He had to stop himself from scoffing when you insisted you didn't need him at every waking moment. You hated how he didn't give you any space. You hated how he breathed down your neck.

What a bunch of nonsense.

He deserved to know where you were at every waking moment. Who you spoke to, hung out with. You were his, were you not? That was his right. Why would you ever need to be alone? Unless you were hiding something from him. Another man—or woman—perhaps?

But Coriolanus learned to ignore his paranoid thoughts. It would get him nowhere. He knew he couldn't force it upon you. You would retaliate, stray further from his clutches. He needed to be patient. He needed to help you understand. He needed to spoon-feed you little by little until it finally stuck.

And slowly but surely, you understood. Coriolanus knew you would eventually, his sweet girl. 

His stupid, sweet girl.

It made it all the easier for him to lull you under his control. You offered your heart to him on a silver platter, asking him to lock it away in the pit of his belly where it would be safe. And he consumed that heart of yours gladly, greedily. That independence you so desperately craved no longer fulfilled you like he did. He was the only one you could trust. The only person you could confide in. You refused to leave his side like an obedient little pet. You were a part of him. You were born to be his. 

And who were you to question the intentions of your loving, doting Coryo?

Now you had nowhere to run—nowhere to hide. 

But you didn’t seem to mind that sentiment. No, especially not when Coriolanus had his cock buried deep inside of you. 

For someone so sweet, you were filthy. But he liked it. In moments like these, you were truly his. You were vulnerable. Docile. He loved how easy you were when lust coursed through your veins. He loved it when your mind was lost in a hazy blizzard, barely able to think straight. And there you were, naked and pinned to his mattress, taking him like the good girl he taught you to be. His touch was rough, fingers digging into your flesh. He held you tightly, roughly, hard enough to leave bruises because he loved you. 

Coriolanus loved you, didn’t he?

"Your pussy's so fucking wet," Coriolanus taunted, breath hot against your ear. He felt you shiver, heard you whine, and he laughed, mean and dirty. "My sweet girl—fuck, she's crying for me." 

You called out his name. A meek whimper. An unutterable prayer. He grinned at the sound of it. “Oh, poor thing,” he cooed, pecking your lips. “Can’t handle too much teasing, huh? S’okay, you’re doing so good.”

He believed he did—love you, that was. Coriolanus felt like a starved man around you. He wanted to split you open, pry his fingers through your flesh and bones, and devour you whole. The feeling was unexplainable, all-consuming. That had to be love.

It must be.

He stared into your eyes, those helpless, glassy eyes as you clung to him. What a sweet little thing you were. Your nails dug into his back, adorning his scarred skin with red lines and crescent indents, but he didn’t mind. Or, more accurately, he didn’t notice. Coriolanus was too busy admiring how your face crumbled with ecstasy every time his hips snapped forward to meet yours. The way your brows knitted together and your mouth hung open when he hit the right spot. 

You were so beautiful like this.

Mine. 

And every thrust made you hold him closer, not wanting him far.

Mine. 

You were completely his like this. 

Mine. 

“You’re mine, yeah?” Coriolanus whispered, his pupils blown wide. You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. “Tell me you’re mine. C’mon, wanna hear you say it. Wanna hear your pretty voice.” 

He hated how needy he sounded, but how could he not when your walls fluttered around his cock so deliciously.

“I’m yours,” you gasped wetly, voice weak and trembling. He tutted and gripped your chin, a signal you knew very well meant he wasn’t pleased. “I’m yours, Coryo,” you said with more conviction. “Only need you, no one else.”

He groaned, his hands moving to the back of your head. “You mean that?”

“Always.”

And, like the starved man he was, Coriolanus dipped his head down and sunk his teeth in you.

author's note: "alexa how do you write smut?" use cannibalism metaphors!

anyway, happy new year everybody!! decided to start off 2024 with... whatever this is! coryo is a sick man. HE'S DISGUSTING! i need him, actually.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow smut #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #the hunger games #thg #smut is NOT my forte #i repeat: smut is NOT my forte #✶ — sunnie writes thg! #✶ — coriolanus snow

[thatfreshi]

He's Not Sick, Is He? (Astarion x reader)

I had this thought the other day, and am interested to explore it. The way Astarion describes how he feels after Cazador's death as 'numb,' I have a feeling he would slip into a bout of depression for a while after, unsure of what to do now, unsure of what his purpose is now that Cazador is gone. Might make a resolved part two of this.

tw - ed behaviors, self-harm, gore, drinking

Recommended Song: Swingin Party - Lorde

You and Astarion stayed at a nearby inn the weeks after Cazador's demise. The innkeeper let the two of you stay as long as you needed, as a way of saying thanks for dealing with one of the worst vermin in the city. With everything handled, the Absolute gone, the mind flayers off your minds, there was nothing left to do. You remember that evening, when you two stumbled into the inn room, feeling as if your bodies were going to fall apart. Astarion though, he felt it in a way that was indescribable. He expected there to be this weight off his shoulders, for the air to suddenly feel clearer, and yet there was nothing.

When you sat on the edge of the bed to start taking off your blood-stained clothes, he simply went to the washroom without a word, practically slamming the door. You were no stranger to the occasional vampiric hissy-fit, but this was far from that. The energy he was radiating, it hurt, got caught in your throat like choking on tears.

As soon as the door closed, he tried to hold back tears. He was alone now, but if he wasn't careful you'd hear him, crying like a baby after doing the only thing he's ever wanted to. Who frees themselves and sobs about it? No, he shouldn't feel this way, not empty and pathetic. Instead of trying to wash up, Astarion simply slipped back against the door, and sat there in whatever this feeling was. You choose not to disturb him, sure that he just needs some time to himself. You fall asleep eventually. He doesn't come to bed for hours.

The next day, you wake up before him, quite the odd occurrence. You decide not to wake him, knowing he's exhausted. He deserves some restful sleep. But his sleep is in fact not restful. It's light, serving almost no purpose. His mind is still far too active, never truly drifting into anything peaceful. Your shuffling around the room wakes him quite easily. When you hear him move around in the sheets, you turn quickly.

"I'm sorry my love, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright."

He says nothing else, and you move to sit on the bed as he lies there.

"How are you feeling?"

Astarion isn't quite sure how to respond. It feels like there's this void in his chest, perhaps his entire torso. Usually he would love waking up to you, make some quip about how gorgeous you are despite the bedhead, but nothing comes.

"Tired."

Odd. He only has to sleep for a couple of hours, and yet he's tired? You brush it off, thinking that perhaps it just wasn't good sleep.

"That's alright. Do you need anything? A drink?"

"No, I think I'm just going to sit here a while longer."

He's barely moved since he awoke.

"Aster, you haven't had any blood since the day before Cazador's. You need something, especially after all of that energy you used up."

The vampire turns in the sheets, looking away from you, wrapping himself in the blanket.

"I'll be alright."

"Nonsense, you need-"

"I'm fine. Just tired, that's all Tav."

His words wound you, but you try not to take it personally.

"Alright. I'll give you some space."

Steps out the door, the light closing of the entrance. Astarion still in the sheets, wearing the same blood-covered clothes from yesterday. He begins to weep again, waiting just long enough that he knows you've gone downstairs.

You're met with the rest of your companions downstairs, who are all glad to see you.

"Well well, if it isn't Tav. Is the vampiric hero of the realm joining us for breakfast?"

Gale is in quite a good mood, happy to be alive and well.

"No he... he just needs to rest a little longer."

You sound unsure of yourself, but they don't question it. You understand Astarion better than any of them, and yet you were stumped by his behavior. He's never been this short with you.

"I don't blame him. I barely got up this morning as well."

Shadowheart smiles, drinking a fresh cup of tea.

"Well, now that we're all freed of the Absolute and our other various problems, where are we all headed?"

Karlach has been waiting for this moment, excited to start living a life outside of the terror that was the cultists. The group all starts talking about how they'll probably stay in the city, just in case Baldur's Gate ever needs them again. Gale talks about how he'll have to move everything from his tower in Waterdeep, and many of your companions offer to help with the move.

"What about you and Astarion? I'm sure you two lovebirds have some big plans now that he's free."

Of course, Karlach meant it kindly, but you were stumped. What would the two of you do now?

"We haven't really had time to talk about it. I'm sure we'll come up with something soon."

She thankfully takes the answer at face value. After a hour or so of chatting, you take your leave, heading back to your room. You softly knock, letting Astarion know you're coming in. He hasn't moved, but he hasn't slept either. You don't say anything, instead you move to lie next to him, wrapping your arms around him. Usually your touch is electrifying, so welcome, but he can barely feel it. Your soft fingers, the embrace of your arms, your breath on his shoulder, it all means nothing. Why does it mean nothing?

"You really should feed soon Astarion."

He says nothing, simply wondering if he'll feel like this forever. Was it a final curse that Cazador bestowed?

"I... I don't feel like it. I don't really feel like doing anything."

"I know my love, but you at least need some blood."

"It can wait. Maybe tomorrow."

Tomorrow comes, and the day after, and many days after that. The two of you stay at the inn, barely having spoken about anything. You try to insist to your friends that he's sick, which wouldn't be entirely incorrect.

"Should I come see him?"

"No, no need Shadowheart. It's just a bad cold, it'll pass soon enough."

One by one, your companions make their way out of the inn, and Gale is the last one to stay. One evening, you're at the bar downstairs, and Gale comes to drink with you.

"This seat taken?"

"No, just me."

You take a long swig of whatever the barkeep poured in your cup. He situates himself on the stool beside you, motioning for a glass a wine.

"Tav... he's not sick, is he?"

You shake for a moment, tears start forming. It takes all of your energy to speak a single word.

"No."

Silence.

"No he... he's barely done anything since we got back. We barely talk. He hasn't had any blood Gale I- I'm really scared."

He takes a somber sip of his wine.

"I know you care about his privacy, understandably, but why wouldn't you tell us?"

You try to take another sip of your drink, but shake too much.

"Because I'm afraid it's my fault. That maybe by stopping the ritual, I somehow did this to him."

Gale takes one of your shaking hands. You're not used to warm touch.

"You didn't do anything wrong. We both know he would've become a monster if he went through with that godforsaken ritual. Have you considered that he's just feeling a little lost? After all, this is all he's wanted for centuries, to see his master fall."

You try to dry your tears.

"Yes, of course, I knew he'd be emotional... but this? I've never seen him like this.

"It will pass Tav, you just have to be there for him."

"How am I supposed to be there for him when he barely even talks to me? I keep trying, trying to tell him that it's alright, that I'm here, but it doesn't help. He won't even drink from me."

"Perhaps there's nothing you can do. He might just need time."

You manage to finish your drink.

"What if he never gets better?'

Gale doesn't meet your eyes, taking yet another sip.

"I know I'm the optimist amongst us, but we just have to hope. All we can do is hope."

You order another drink, and the two of you drink in silence for a while, until eventually he retires to his room.

"I leave for Waterdeep tomorrow, to go get my things, but I'll be back soon enough. Send a pigeon if you need me?"

You nod, a somber smile on your face.

"Thank you Gale. Best of luck in your travels."

You stay frozen at the bar for a while, not wanting to go back to the room, not wanting to face your lover fading away. He refuses to leave, even when your companions left the inn, he refused to say goodbye. When you do decide to come back, you softly knock, as always. He's strewn about in the sheets, reading some tome he's read a million times before. You come sit on the floor by the edge of the bed. He doesn't seem to notice you at first, eyes moving slowly across words he already knows. Just something to do, something easy, something that doesn't make his body feel like a bag of bricks when he thinks about it.

"Do you think you're ready to feed yet?"

Astarion simply shakes his head.

"Please my love, please. I know it's hard right now, but please just try."

"I don't know, I just... I don't think I can."

You sigh, holding back tears, streams still wet on your face from the bar. Instead of pleading with him, you grab a nearby bottle and your knife, taking them both to the washroom. You slice clean down your arm, wincing at the pain of the blade. You haven't sharpened it in a while, leaving jagged lines down your forearm. He hears you, but can't bring himself to say anything, simply feeling guilty. You take the mouth of the bottle to your arm, letting the blood drip into the glass. It burns, you didn't even think of cleaning the blade beforehand. You let it bleed though, until the bottle is full. You grit your teeth as you clean the wound, wrapping it in some spare bandage, fully knowing it will leave an ugly scar. When you leave the washroom, you put the bottle on the nightstand nearest to Astarion.

"There. For whenever you're ready."

And with that, you leave again, slowly closing the door, your arm throbbing in pain. He looks at the bottle, knowing what you've done, and he tears up again, something he hasn't managed to do in front of you all this time. You're frustrated, and you don't know with who, but it makes you sick to your stomach. It's as if the life has been drained from him, like he'll never be the same. You leave the inn, and walk for a long time, wasting the hours of the night crying as you drift to wherever. You get a few odd looks, but no one dares stop to ask why you're crying in the middle of the street this late. At some point, your feet stop carrying you, and you sit against the rock in some alley, hugging your knees, fully sobbing into the fabric of your pants. You're scared, scared to go back, scared to see the bottle still full on the table. For a moment, just a moment, you think what would happen if you left him there, if you disappeared. Guilt overwhelms you, causing the tears to fall faster. No, you have to go back, but not now. Not now, but soon. You silently hope soon doesn't come too fast, and you feel horrible for it. But for now, you have a couple hours in this dark alley, a couple hours before you feel the need to check on him again. And you begin sobbing again, knowing that nothing will have changed when dawn comes.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst

[jjongslutz]

it’s jake birthdays and im imagining jay deciding to get jake the best birthday present ever so he lets jake have his way jays pretty gf who jake always not so subtly eyes her cleavage and thighs 👀

thank you for the request 🫶 admittedly not my best work but i hope it's okay for his day!!!

you'd be blind to not realize jay's best friend eye-fucking you from across the room whenever the three of you are together. your boyfriend noticed it too, how could he not?

at first, he'd get angry. "does he think he's better than me? that he knows how to treat you better than i do?" over time, though, he started flaunting it. jake couldn't have you. you were his and only his.

but jay's a good friend, and jake's always polite with his stares. when he notices your eyes on him, he'll divert his gaze in a second. "jake?" you'd say, and he would smile politely as if nothing. he's a good guy

so when jake's twenty-first birthday comes around, as special a date as ever, jay knows what to get him. "keep your eyes closed."

"man, okay, they're closed. just don't make me run into the wall or something."

jay guides his friend into the bedroom, but all jake sees is darkness behind his closed eyes. he hears the door close behind him and cheatingly peeks through squinted eyes to see, but he's met with more darkness.

he panics for a second when he feels jay move away from him, relaxing when he hears the click of a lamp turning on. "open," jay says.

jake would've thought jay brought him to heaven with the sight in front of him.

you, sat on his bed, wearing nothing but revealing black lingerie, with a pretty little present bow sat atop your head, looking up at him with the prettiest doe eyes. "hi jake," you say sweetly.

he doesn't even need to ask what's happening, he just goes for it. kneeling over your body, he smashes your lips together in a hungry kiss. he's been dreaming about this far too long to waste any time.

jay chuckles at the scene playing out in front of him. "you two have fun," he says, and soon enough you hear the sound of the door shutting echoing behind his footsteps.

without a response, jake's hands eagerly land on your breasts, dragging a moan out of you as he squeezes them gently. he keeps feeling you up as your hands mess around wherever they land; squeezing his biceps, griping at his shirt, trailing down his torso.

not breaking away from the kiss, jake pushes both of your body's down against the bed. "fuck, where are the condoms?"

"already?" you tease. "no patience, pretty boy..." you trail off while gesturing toward the side table where jay generously left a packet of condoms and some lube.

jake raises a brow at the lube, his eyeliner drifting down to your dripping cunt.

okay, maybe you spent your time dreaming about what would happen between the two of you while waiting for jay to bring him—and maybe that got you too excited to wait for him, and maybe, just maybe, you got off on just the thought of it before he even got here.

"no patience, pretty girl," he repeats your words teasingly. "i guess i don't really need to, but god, i've always wanted to feel your pussy against my fingers."

your breath hiccups. "please."

he smiles from above, not warning you before he plunges two fingers into your cunt. you whine against the feeling of them stretching you out.

his hands are bigger than yours, clearly, and they hit right where you need them most.

you can't help but compare the way jake curls his fingers inside of you versus jay who thrusts them while playing with your clit. both of them have you rolling your eyes back and arching your back within seconds.

"mmm, so good," you mumble nonsense as jake twirls his fingers and tickles your pussy's walls from within. god, he really knows how to work them. he's experienced, and now you're starting to regret how long it took you to do this.

"are you close?" jake asks, conveniently curling his fingers in just the right way to interrupt your response with a loud cry. "yeah?" he teases.

"yes—fuck, yes!"

then, you're losing all sense of pleasure as he pulls his fingers out of you. dejectedly, you whine. "whyyyy" drawing out the syllable and weakly reaching out your hand to try to bring his back to you.

jake's going back to the side table and ripping open the condom pack. simultaneously, he's sliding off his belt and zipping down his jeans, and god it's making you miss his fingers the way he works them so effortlessly.

your eyes widen as his rock hard cock slaps against his shirt, staining where it hit with the precum lathered on his tip. he's not huge, daresay, but he's long and decently thick. you lick your lips at the sight, hoping for a later opportunity to have it down your throat, too.

he chuckles at your expression, meeting your eyes from above. "like what you see?" he strokes it a couple times for emphasis, before rolling the condom over his cock and stroking it again.

at a loss for words, you hum at him absentmindedly. instinctively, your legs spread more widely to grant him full access to your pussy.

"good girl," jake says, grabbing onto your thighs to lift them over his shoulders. he leans in with his dick in his hand, finally lining up against your entrance, but pauses to look you in the eye again. his gaze turned softer, as if to ask permission. you grant it by nodding and leaning up to pull him into another kiss.

you moan against his lips as you feel his cock entering you slowly. he pulls away with a string of saliva still connecting the two of you, breathing heavily at the feeling of your cunt around his skin.

he's thought about this, had dreams about this, but never knew how good it would feel until now.

"fuck," he whispers, and all hell breaks loose.

signs of courtesy drop in an instant as he slams his hips forward, pushing his cock deep into your pussy. his thrusts are harsh, leaving no room for you to take a breath between them when they're taking your breath away with each rhythmic movement.

"so good, right there, fuck!" your mind is completely empty safe for jake, jake, jake. his cock has you sputtering nonsensical phrases, praising him and encouraging him in hopes of him never stopping. you want to be entirely entrapped in nothing but him.

"i've been waiting so long," jake musters into your ear. "so long, you have no idea—" he interrupts himself with a low groan. your back arches as he thrusts again. "fuck, thank you."

you can't even process his words as his movements lose their rhythm, turning into sporadic thrusts as he gets closer to his high. you're close too, already feeling it from your first orgasm of the night, then being ripped away of your second just earlier.

"thank you," he gasps, pulling out only to slam back into you with full force. "thank you, thank you," he repeats. jake's hand finds its way back to your breasts, fondling them as he pushes in and out of you.

his whimpers ring throughout the room, melodically in tune with your moans as the two of you move your hips in sync. you hope jay is outside the door recording them, just to play them back later on.

"you gonna cum?" and at your approving hum, he tells you, "cum for me."

so, you do.

your pussy clenching around his cock is enough to send him over the edge, coming undone into the condom. later on you'll be glad he put it on, but in the moment you wish there was nothing separating you from his spilling seed.

he doesn't pull out right away, collapsing onto you and burying his head into the crook of your neck. you laugh softly at his cuddliness following his orgasm, but you can't help but mirror his behaviour by lowering your legs and wrapping them around his hips to bring him closer.

between battered breaths, you leave a gentle kiss against jake's head. you whisper against his ear, "happy birthday."

your eyes drift toward the clock on the wall. jay will be back in any minute, but you're sure he won't mind finding you in this intimate position with his best friend....

#⛓️ ⌗ asks! #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen au #enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen hard thoughts #jay smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #jake hard thoughts #jake hard hours #jake x y/n #jake x you #jake x reader #jake fic #jake smut #jake au #enhypen heeseung #enhypen scenarios #enha #enha x reader #enha hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enha scenarios #jake_fic

[terrestrialnoob]

To say that Bruce Wayne didn’t like Vlad Masters would be an understatement. Masters refused to treat anyone not obviously rich with any decency, was allergic to admitting he was wrong, used underhanded business tactics to get unconscionably one-sided deals, and kept everything just barely on the side of legal. All on top of having the reputation as one of America’s Most Charitable Billionaires with how much money he gave into rare disease research, that just so happened to also be America’s second biggest tax write-off for one individual. It wasn’t a private feud either. Bruce had gotten, first, in a donation war for who could fund the most charities, which Bruce had thought was in good fun, until it soon became clear that Masters was taking it far too seriously and tried to sabotage a charity event. Bruce wasn’t sure how he did it, but “it was lucky that Batman was there” to get everyone out of the burning building. Bruce then learned just how competitive the man was, and if he didn’t let him win, there’d be more innocent people put into danger.

So, you could imagine his surprise when he got a phone call from a dejected sounding Vlad Masters. “Bruce, it may be hard to believe, but I need your help.”

“With what?” Bruce didn’t want to deal with this man-child’s ego tripping, but he could never refused a cry for help, whether legitimate or a trap.

Vlad sighed loudly into the phone and Bruce thought for a moment he had been hung up on and missed the beep. But after the long pause Vlad said, “Recently, some old college friends of mine died.”

Bruce absorbed that in the shorter pause that followed. First that someone like Vlad had friends, and second, that their deaths meant something to him.

Vlad continued, “Jack had been a rival of mine and I had never forgiven him for marrying the woman I’d loved or – he also caused an accident that had left me hospitalized for months. I still say we were friends because, well, he never stopped trying to be mine despite how horrible I was to him. We had met when he and I were in a horrible punk band, and then I met his friend Maddie and the three of us made – Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble...”

“It’s understandable,” Bruce responded, “But, you said you needed my help? I have a really good grief counselor if that’s something you’d like?”

“Ah no, you see, Jack and Maddie had a son,” Vlad paused, “They had a daughter too, but she was home when their basement laboratory blew up and their entire house collapsed into it. The three of them, as well as three other teenagers, died. Danny was the only one to survive, and he is now in my care.”

“Jesus,” Bruce sighed, “Does he-”

“Before you offer, a bad experience with a school counselor has him sworn off seeing any kind of professional.” Vlad cut in, “And my bad behavior with his parents beforehand has convinced him I’m some kind of evil supervillain who wants world domination or some such nonsense. He wouldn’t trust anyone who’s associated with me in any way.”

Bruce nodded, seeing where this was going, “But you and I are openly rivals.”

Vlad hummed in agreement, “And you unfortunately have firsthand experience with both losing your parents and helping a grieving teen through the same.”

Bruce sighed, he was getting another kid, wasn’t he?

#dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #batman #bruce wayne #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #fic prompt #original

[vivelarevolution13]

tbh I still think Brock Rumlow was an interesting character and upon further examination way more unsettling a villain than most to me because like. Let’s be real, the second you lay eyes on Robert Redford as Pierce monologuing in his pristine suit and glass office high up in the sky he just screams Evil Politician! at you. You can see it coming a mile away. Meanwhile Rumlow is….Just Some Guy. On the surface, he’s just some side dude. He’s not enhanced, he’s not in some major position of power, he’s just someone who’s really good at what he does and seems dedicated enough to the work and functions well with his team. He respects Steve, might admire him even, but not so much that he gets starry eyed like everybody else. He’s lighthearted but focused, he’s no nonsense, he’s the everyman Steve can relate to way more than spooks like Natasha or Fury.

And okay, maybe what Rumlow does for a living is beat intimidate and kill people, but it’s not like that’s the primary objective, right, because SHIELD are the good guys and this is what Steve does now, too, anyway; except that Steve doesn’t really use any weapons other than the shield, he holds back, he doesn’t carry a gun anymore which is usually fine since he’s dangerous enough without it. But when that leaves him vulnerable, he’s covered: Rumlow’s got his six, and he does it well, and he earns some of his trust. This is familiar to Steve.

And maybe Rumlow’s a little too good, fine, maybe he shoots a guy in the head within the first fifteen minutes of the movie when he doesn’t necessarily have to and then cracks jokes immediately after but that’s alright too, because that guy had Steve at gunpoint and that guy was Bad whereas Rumlow is One of the Good Guys just doing his job, right. Rumlow’s joking around because he’s used to the violence, they’re all used to it, and this is just how it works. They’re just soldiers doing the grunt work and following orders, and this is familiar, too.

Except that they’re not soldiers and this isn’t a war, except that the work is for an intelligence agency whose job it is to hoard and steal information and monitor civilians and orchestrate and sabotage and meddle in internal and external state affairs. Except that the Good Guys, in reality, are extremely grey at best. Except that many of the Good Guys turn out to be Nazis on top of everything else, and it’s not that far of a stretch.

But when it’s all starting to unravel, you’re still thinking well maybe some of these guys didn’t know. Maybe they didn’t do it out of individual belief, and if faced with the right choice, they can be redeemed.

That is until you realize that Rumlow maybe didn’t respect Steve and what he did so much as what Steve could do if only Steve weren’t “weak” in other ways, if Steve had chosen the right side. That it not being personal is less a cop out and more a taunt the same way just following orders has always been, for Rumlow and many many men that came before him and will continue to come after. Until the vault when, by the most charitable of interpretations, Rumlow looks at the Winter Soldier letting himself be smacked around and crying and getting shocked like he’s maybe a little unnerved (if not just downright fascinated) by the whole thing, but not enough that it really changes anything for him, because the end justifies the means and it’s not really his problem, anyway.

Until Sam shows up and Rumlow looks at him like a bird of prey and says This is gonna hurt with a fucking smile on his face, and then you think: shit, man, obviously. How was it not clear from the start.

To me, what makes someone like Rumlow a good villain, even a side one, is not that he’s straight up Insane & Evil™️ or suffering from Tragic Backstory Syndrome or all hopped up on magic superstrength juice or whatever, but precisely the fact that he’s Just Some Guy with a cockroach survival mentality who operates well within the established system and just so happens to be really good at his job - a job that he might’ve even joined thinking it was for a good cause, or because he had something to prove, or simply because it gave him one hell of an excuse to be a bully. Because he either wholeheartedly believes in HYDRA or he just doesn’t give much of a shit either way so long as he gets his due in the end, and both are just as bad.

Because when you strip away all the grand scale superhero theatrics, you’ve seen this before. You’ve seen Rumlows in your school and in your neighborhood and in the military and the cop car patrolling your street. They’re the ones who sometimes say or do somewhat offputting shit but you figure it’s fine because they’re otherwise real nice or charismatic or normal looking, or maybe they work a job that’s framed as helpful or protective or inherently good despite the power dynamics at play, or they share your background and interests and you chat about the weather being crap this time of year.

And every time one of them turns out to be a violent, hateful piece of shit, you’re still somehow surprised then, too, when you really shouldn’t be.

#apologies for the extra long post but I’ve been thinking about why he freaks me out as much as he does #the world is full of brock rumlows is all i’m saying. #and that to me is way more terrifying than evil crazy russians in underground labs or deranged aliens could ever be #brock rumlow #ca: tws #brock rumlow meta #I guess???? hello how the fuck did I get here at 5 pm on a tuesday jesus christ #mcu meta #max.txt