#oh my god i need this to be a drabble

[captainswhore]

you see price sitting like this when you walk into a room post mission- and you know exactly what it is he needs.

he's licking at you and holding your thighs open with his rough palms- and you can't take it. his calluses and his beard and the fabric of his sleeves are rubbing at your legs just right- but not enough for you to lose focus on his hot tongue rubbing on you and in you and you've never been wetter in your LIFE.

his only problem? you're still moving too much. he can't reach where he wants to inside of you because you keep wiggling out of his way. his hands want to touch you everywhere- not just hold your thighs still. this is when he begins to squeeze at you everywhere, and tell you to rest your thighs on his shoulders.

"b-but price- hhnngh ohmygod- i c-can't. they're too big. thighs are too big"

you whine at the loss of contact, but then you look down and see him staring at you with massive pupils and a wet face. "lovie- my shoulders are broad for a reason. rest your thighs on em and i swear they'll have enough room"

and you listen, and you're crushing his ears with your thighs, and he's never been happier. the next time you look down? he's rutting into the mattress and you see his hips stutter when he groans into you and your vision goes white

(@chamomiletealeaf and i had SUCH A HORNY discussion about this and she told me to post it so here i am- and also omg photo creds to her. we've gotta reign it in lmfao)

#if only you guys could see our chats. they're so so filthy #shout out to the first friend i've made on this lil side blog of mine- bless up! #i still don't know how to tag SHIT #but imma try my best!! #john price drabble #john price x reader #john price x reader drabble #john price smut #john price x reader smut #oh god how else do i do this this feels so awkward and weird #cod smut #cod x reader #cod drabble #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 smut #uuhhhh #yeah that works enough #im gonna need to be someone's smut protege or something so i can learn LMFAO

[esha-isboogara]

fourth drink instinct *WIP*

this has nothing to do with drinking i just love the song :) anyways i’ve had mark on the brain for like a month and i can finally post bc i’m not banned anymore yayy!! enjoy some horny unfinished thots

more thots here

don’t test mark’s patience

mark was a patient man. he was an expert at the waiting game. for hours he could sit patiently waiting for the perfect moment to do something. he was always able to wait his opponent out.

that is until you came into his life to test his abilities.

“but i don’t want to sit in the living room i want to sit with you” he heard you whine from outside his door like a dejected toddler. he has told you a million times over you couldn’t be in the room while he was filming, too much of a distraction.

“i’m sorry baby but you can’t be in here with me right now. i told you you’re going to distract me too much i’ll be done in an hour or two” he tried to ignore your knocking and focused on the screen before him. “be a good girl and wait for me”.

“i don’t want tooo, i want to be in the room with you. i promise i won’t do anything just let me sleep on the bed mark, pretty please”? you did your best or make yourself sound convincing. you were well aware he wasn’t able to withstand your pleas for too much longer. it was easy to wear him down enough into giving you what you wanted.

“baby. no. i said no. you’re really testing me right now”. mark responded, his tone now stern. he wasn’t playing around anymore.

the other side of the door was silent for a moment before again you spoke again. “pretty please mark”?

that was it. he couldn’t take it anymore. why didn’t you understand the word no? clearly he didn’t give you enough discipline.

getting out of his chair and reversing the lock on the door he yanked you in, ignoring your small yelp of shock.

“i told you to shut up and let me work. but did you listen”? he waited for an answer but you just gave him that wide eyed look that made him want to take you then and there. “no you didn’t. and now i’m going to have to punish you”.

“ill shut up..please don’t spank me”. you whimpered already regretting your decisions.

he laughed, a dark menacing one. “oh no no darling that’s not what we’re going to do tonight. i’m going to shut that bratty mouth of yours up for a while i get what i need to get done”.

you looked up at him, your eyes wide and begging.

“that won’t work on me sweetheart. get on your knees, you know the drill”.

without hesitation you obeyed, fearing any further punishment.

“consider this your apology”.

#oh my god i need him #i need him carnally #i wish this was a phase #it was never a phase mom #☹️ #i never grew out of him #he’s just so handsome #amy is a lucky woman #she’s hot asf too #to be fair #anyways let me just tag normally #markiplier smut #yummy yummy gaming man #markiplier #markiplier x reader #mark fischbach #smut #smutty blurb #blurb #smutty drabble #drabble #esha writes

[tahdashi]

1:34 AM

gn!reader x oikawa. best friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, only one bed!

when you first invited tooru to your co-worker’s wedding, you told him you’d strictly be going as friends — just friends and nothing more. truthfully, you could’ve gone by yourself, but the thought of celebrating love alone left a foul taste in your mouth and a growing pit in your stomach. and when you brought up the idea to your best friend, he seemed excited to get dressed up and dance the night away on the dance floor. 

but here you are now with tooru’s arm hooked around your shoulder as he whines about how much his feet hurt, hiccups rhythmically leaving his pink lips.

“maybe you shouldn’t have had so much champagne then, dumbass,” you whine, dragging his body towards the hotel room he booked weeks in advance. he responds with a groan, pulling the room key out of his jacket pocket to unlock the door. 

you carry him to the bed — the only bed — and toss him haphazardly onto the cushiony mattress. he’s looking up at the ceiling with crimson cheeks and a giggle bubbling in his throat. 

“what in the world is this,” you ask him, walking over to obstruct his view of the bland ceiling. he simply looks over at you and then beckons for you to lie down next to him. 

“i’m not gonna sleep in the same bed as you, tooru! you’re drunk,” you rake your hands through your hair, and the frustration on your face brings tooru to a seat. 

“‘m not drunk, i just,” he hiccups again, then continues. “i just had a lot of fun tonight.” 

and you have to admit — it was nice to see tooru let loose a little bit tonight. he wasn’t worrying about his next game, or training, or even his team. he was there with you, with his warm hands on your waist as you danced to the vivacious music. even though his fingers found a home on your lower back, you couldn’t help but feel the lines blur a little bit — the ones that separated platonic from romantic, the ones that changed the meaning of his past “i love you”’s. because even though you knew he was an affectionate drunk, he was only affectionate with you (and perhaps he only felt comfortable getting drunk around you, not that you mind. taking care of him was like second nature to you). 

a soft sigh leaves your lips, and you’re taking your shoes off before helping tooru’s with his. you climb into bed with him. 

“just so you know, we’re putting a pillow in the middle. i don’t wanna smell your stinky breath in the morning,” you tell him with a playful glint in your voice. he looks back at you with his mouth forming an ‘o’. 

“my breath never stinks. you just don’t wanna be near me because we both know you’re clingy as fuck,” he laughs as you aggressively pat down the pillow between you two, as if your movements would make it stick in place. 

“you’re the clingy one! you wouldn’t even let me dance by myself!” 

“who dances alone at a wedding?” 

“i could’ve if i didn’t bring you,” you stick your tongue out at him and his cheeks rise in a smile. 

“why’d you bring me then, hm?” 

silence fills the room. he thinks about how lucky he is to be able to lay here with you, rosy cheeks and all. and maybe he is a little drunk, or maybe the timing just feels right. so he slowly lifts up the pillow between you two and places it behind him. his body shifts closer to yours, and you can feel your insides burning up because of the distance. 

“is it because you wanted to see me in a suit?” he shifts closer to you. you can smell the alcohol on his breath, but you don’t hate it. “or maybe you just wanted to dance with me?” 

his eyes drill into yours, those chocolate hues occupying your mind. you hate the way he’s smiling. you hate the way that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. you hate that he hasn’t closed the gap between you two. 

you don’t respond — you can’t. tooru’s hand finds that place on your lower back again, and you’re reminded of how his body was swaying against yours on the dance floor. his fingers are warm like the rest of his body, and he’s pulling you into his chest. this feels different than the times he’d console you when you’d cry, different than the times he’d hug you after his wins.

because this feels like his own victory. 

“are you okay with this?” he asks, his hand stilling on your back as he waits for a response. you nod, and he thinks that maybe he’s a little too drunk. do you want this as much as he does? what happens after tonight? 

tooru forces his tendency to overthink away into the back of his mind, and he begins to dance his fingers along your back like two figures waltzing to an orchestra. 

he likes this — he feels at peace like this. 

and in the morning, he feels the pounding in his head be replaced by pounding in his chest. he peers down at you with those chestnut eyes and pushes the hair away from your face. so once again, he lets his hand wander down to your waist, and you push yourself further into his body. 

sure, the lines have blurred a little bit, but tooru was hoping that it would happen anyway. 

#i wrote this a lil too quickly he was on my mind and i need to feed my brainrot #don’t be mean about the writing pls it’s unedited and i’m sleepy #i just like him a lot i think #sayu.writes #oikawa fluff #oikawa x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #i forgot how to tag drabbles oh my god rip this will have to do

[stevebabey]

ok. SO imagine babygirl steve in his silly little socks and boxers and the cropped (shrunken) old swim team shirt and he’s wearing his glasses cause it’s early in the morning and he’s still a little sleepy and groggy and his hair is just a mess but like. a perfect sexy mess still mussed with sleep and u walk in and see his lil butt in those boxers with his thick thighs and muscular calves on show in those god damn gym socks and ur like. ah yes breakfast>:) and you walk up behind him and snake your arms around his waist and kiss all up his back and you sit HIM on the counter and make out with him as you stand between his thighs like the lil slut he is <3 🤭 - @stvharrngton

not ADDING THE GLASSES IN!!! ur being so mean to me. i truly think he’s somewhere between ‘completely oblivious to how good he looks’ & ‘does it specifically to rile you up’

that morning is one of the oblivious times, he’s like leaning on the counter on his forearms and rubbing at his eyes to try wake up, taking tiny sips of coffee and he still thinks you’re blissfully asleep so he gets a lil surprise when ur cold fingers are suddenly creeping along his midriff- he’ll murmur a lil ‘y’scared me honey’ but even as he does he’s stealing one of your hands and pressing a soft kiss to your fingers and it’s like ??? what the fuck man it’s like he’s trying to melt you ??? dressed like this in the morning, paired with his morning voice and those stupid socks and tiny shorts?? i would indeed manoeuvre onto the counter for a makeout jfc (but not before jokingly trying all the moves he’s used on u before— ‘cmon steve, jump in my arms, legs around my waist’ ‘i really don’t think—‘ ‘do it! i’m trying to seduce u sir’ ‘oh for christ’s sake’) (he clings onto u for a total of 3 seconds before u both collapse in laughter and only then do u press him against the counter with a real good kiss)

#i think i could do it #babygirl cling to my waist i will hold us up for maybe 10 seconds #then dump his ass on the counter #but it’ll be a good 10 seconds #hehehehe #oh god i should be moving i need to get on the bus AHHH #KYRIE UR DISTRACTING ME #ruby talks #steve drabbles #gotta make a tag for these i think #asks #moots my beloved <3 #answered

[lavenoon]

Hope your morning is going well! :D

Also hope you’re ready for more sketches/art later ;P I’m having ✨ideas✨ thanks to the outfits >:)

I am Looking So Intensely

I'm a little all over the place rn (handled a scary call, sent in an application to another workplace, trying to remember everything I want to do -) but mostly it's all going well!!

Have a little drabble cooking once I get done with all work prep >:3c

And you!! Your "sketches" are killing me already I am eating them!! Glad the outfits are inspiring because man what a beautiful cycle of getting fed <3

#answer let luce #zelda7999 #but please please im begging #sleep earlier today #yesterday I kept thinking like 'wait still?? It's 3pm for me oh my god is he seriously *still* up??' FGHDJSK #okay I still. I still need to do some stuff Imma get on with it. and then drabble #then work #then winter market #again #more market date thoughts <3

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '23 ⸺ 「 5 / 31 * ALARM CLOCK 」

November 7, 1955

01:23

Emmett didn't have the heart to wake the boy when he finally passed out, face-down on his living room couch and still fully clothed, shoes and all. He was only gone about twenty minutes—twenty-two, to be precise, according to the small collection of clocks hanging on the wall—to make up one of the unused and neglected guest rooms. He had more space than he knew what to do with, and the kid very well couldn't be sleeping on the couch for an entire week while he was temporarily displaced in this time due to the actions of his future self.

How could I have been so reckless as to send a kid through time alone?

So he left him there, hovering awkwardly over the boy for a moment before finally fetching a spare blanket from the closet and draping it over the exhausted time-traveller.

Marty's small collection of future gadgets were still on the chair where he left them, and it took all of Emmett's willpower not to start examining the strange items in greater detail, from the portable television studio to the device that looked like an odd transistor radio. You'll find out in time, he mentally chides himself, but the kid is still asleep and his curiosity is a powerful thing, so the next thing he knows, the radio is in his hands, much lighter than he imagined it would be.

He takes it with him into the kitchen, where he's set up multiple papers to begin his plans to modify the time machine. Normally, he would retreat to the garage to work on his project, as the environment there was far more conducive to the creative process, but he had reservations about leaving Marty alone in the house; what if the kid woke up, panicked, thinking this was all some horrible nightmare?

With so little time and the kid's very existence on the line, he sets to work, leaving the miniature radio on the table, which was now popped open, where a strange thin film canister labelled Van Halen, whatever that was, rested inside.

08:37

When he goes to check up on Marty again, a few hours later, the only difference between then and now was the position Marty was in on the couch and how tangled up in the blanket he had gotten himself. He looked just as sound asleep as he did when he first knocked out, and Emmett chuckles to himself—when was the last time he slept? He had serious doubts the kid would be awake any time before noon. Copernicus trots over, tail wagging, eager to check on their new houseguest.

❝Copernicus!❞ Emmett whispers as he puts his front paws on the couch, ❝Leave Marty be! He's had a hell of a day; let him sleep in unbothered. You can say hello when he wakes up.❞

Copernicus looks back between his master and his new friend, as if weighing out the amount of trouble he would get in for disobeying. Marty is new, exciting, and friendly, but—

❝Come on, boy! Let's get a start on breakfast.❞

Emmett sets the coffeepot on the stove with enough for two—does Marty drink coffee?—and fetches Copernicus' food bowl from the floor, yawning into the sleeve of his robe. This was not his first all-nighter and, if the existence of the time vehicle is anything to go off of, it will not be his last, either. He still has no real understanding of how the machine works beyond knowing that it does, and even if it will save him what will likely be years of struggle—thirty years, if he is to believe Marty's departure date is the very first test of the machine—he can't allow himself to break established history by obtaining future knowledge.

He sighs as the smell of coffee permeates the kitchen and promptly fills Copernicus' bowl with his favourite dry food.

Before he can set the bowl back down, a shout and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor causes Emmett to jump, sending dry kibble flying across the kitchen. He drops the bowl on the ground and hurries over to find Marty no longer on the couch, but on the floor, hair askew and wide-eyed and still hopelessly tangled in the blanket.

Copernicus is sitting on Marty's chest, tail wagging, and Emmett's eyes go wide.

❝H-Hey Doc. Copernicus kinda—❞

❝Copernicus!❞ Emmett chides, crossing the length of the room to pick up the dog and set him down on the floor. ❝What did I say about letting Marty sleep?❞

❝It's fine, Doc, really, I just wasn't expecting him to start licking my face, that's all.❞

Emmett kneels down as Marty starts to struggle against the blanket, brows furrowed as if to ask, may I? Marty nods, and he works on extricating the boy from his fabric prison. ❝Nonsense; you were exhausted, you need to sleep. I might have tried to wake you up when breakfast was finished, but that wasn't going to be for some time.❞

#the obvious one here would've been the clock being set on the delorean's dash from the end of bttf1 and while i definitely had ideas for #that i thought 'alarm clock' in a more unconventional sense would be fun #plus i wanted to write some '50s doc. some unseen moments. #&; a great idea can change the world 「 hc 」 #doctober 2023 #i still haven't made a drabble tag gdi #copernicus - such a good boy #it's canon to me that if marty would have had the chance to meet all of doc's dogs they all would have loved him #and copernicus - much like einie - took to marty immediately. marty's SUCH a good kid; of course doc's dogs would love him #oh my god are these just going to keep getting longer each day what i can't do this to myself jfl;akdfj #i needed to write something cute for my favourite best friend duo

[covenofthearticulate]

i got 4 hours of sleep and moved houses at the crack of dawn this morning but now it’s 9am and i already took the full work day off. it’s super rainy and i have one day left in my airbnb with my cozy little window seat so that means i get to spend the whole day just writing 😍

#i’m so happy oh my god i’ve needed a mental health day off for the past *checks watch* 6 months #one last rainy day to relax before i have to unpack the last 25 years of my life in this new place LOL #ANYWAY maybe i’ll get some drabbles done or do some ~valentine’s themed~ one-shots

[blackjackkent]

Caden remembers a cage deep below Athkatla. He remembers the flames licking at his body in Irenicus's perverse experiments. He remembers the pain.

So it is almost, in a horrible way, like returning to familiar ground when Irenicus opens the fight with a fireball that nearly consumes him.

Despite the mage's ostensible need for the power within the great tree they stand on, he seems to have no compunction in scorching its bark, freezing its leaves. A torrent of elemental magic of all kinds bursts upon them, and it is all Caden can do to keep upright, to surge forward with his own blows...

Madness. There is nothing but light in all directions, the clashing of spells from Irenicus, from Aerie and Jaheira and even a few from Imoen, mixed with the hail of arrows and fists and sword swings all lashing out at once. For every hit that lands, five others glance off the seemingly endless shield that Irenicus conjures almost without thought.

The exhaustion that has permeated Caden for days, for weeks now seems to saturate his mind. There is nothing left but this fight, this moment, nothing but Irenicus and pain and the hilt of his sword between his fingers, a swing, a slice --

At times Irenicus seems to be everywhere at once, and then at times, suddenly, all is still. Caden's breath hitches in his chest as he finds himself unable to move. Time stop... he remembers it all too well from the battle at the top of Spellhold, and now it is even more terrifying, as Irenicus uses the frozen moments to prep another spell, to lash out in another direction -- each of these frozen grey moments is followed inevitably by a burst of pain, or a scream of horror from one of his friends.

He cannot look at them. He cannot be distracted. They will live, or they will die, and so will he. But it must end. It must end...

it must end it must end it must end it must end it must end it must end...

It is a swing of his sword much like any other that ends it. Some accident of fate as much as skill. He swings just as Rasaad's fist connects with Irenicus's jaw, as Minsc's sword slices along his thigh. Jaheira reflects back a chunk of ice crystal into his face and Imoen lashes out with her dagger and Aerie's voice rings out in a blast of energy, and as Irenicus's shield shifts ever so slightly to try to catch all of these at once...

Caden finds the chink in the armor.

His blade sinks deep into Irenicus's chest. It takes every ounce of strength left in him to step forward, to push it deeper, until he can feel the sudden give that means the point has come out the other side.

Everything goes still again -- and not a time stop this moment, but a stunned silence. Irenicus's mouth falls open with a ragged breath, and there is blood in his mouth. For a moment he seems only astonished, bewildered.

He sags backwards, slumping down on the blade. The light in his eyes fades and Caden feels the weight on his sword grow heavy with death.

He is barely conscious of the victory, in truth. All he is aware of is the pain and the blood. There is blood everywhere. Some of it is his. Some of it is Irenicus's. Much of it is his friends'. He doesn't dare to look at them, to see the extent of their injuries. He doesn't dare to think about his own.

He waits, watching Irenicus's body slowly slump to the solid surface of the tree branch. He waits for his soul to return.

Rasaad speaks. His voice is ragged and weak, barely audible, the strength leaving it moment by moment.

Caden shakes his head unsteadily. He cannot speak. He barely has the energy to move at all, to breathe. It is growing harder to breathe...

Irenicus's body twitches as magical light flares over it. Caden's chest clenches up, breathing becoming impossible. Terror rises into his eyes, the desperate terror of a drowning man, and he claws outward with one hand -- his fingers find Aerie's arm just as she staggers and collapses sideways with a soft, weak cry.

He struggles for purchase, for stable ground; the heavy branch beneath them seems to lurch under him. Everything hurts and he can't see and he can't breathe...

Something is pulling him away. He falls to his knees, collapses forward; behind him he hears Boo squeak weakly and then the heavy clatter as Minsc topples over. Jaheira is still standing opposite him, leaning on her staff, but her eyes are blank and her skin is deathly pale.

"Aerie--" he gasps out hoarsely, and looks around wildly, blindly. "Imoen, what--"

"I can't...Caden, I can't..." Imoen whispers from somewhere he can't see. "It hurts too much..."

The blackness takes him and he falls forward and the magic swirling around Irenicus's body rises to meet him, to welcome him in...

Welcome to hell...

#bjk plays baldur's gate 2 #caden of candlekeep #drabble #hahahahahaahah WHAT #WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK #not what i expected but oh my god #no rest for caden yet poor boy #also that fight was WILD #even on super easy mode it takes quite a while #also i need to stop for the night so we're gonna end on that monster of a cliffhanger >:)

[mrscoultxr]

There’s a strong chance I do nothing today because I’m over tired and just feel like playing Pokémon Go at work today. And then I’m getting home, eating, and crashing

Wonder how many times Marisa came back from Bolvangar and just plopped on her bed once the servants had left, falling asleep instantly.

#[outofcorruption] #tbd #even if I have muse I might direct it towards drabbles and ficlets for now #and draft in the notes on my phone #I’m gonna need so much coffee today oh god #it all comes back around to Marisa for me lmfao

[salvenged]

HENRY AND WILLIAM.

After the initial falling out between Henry and William, an altercation took place in the back room. In short, it was William trying in desperation to insist upon “the truth” -- The “truth” of course being the existence of souls, building a family, “saving” them, their happiest day and so on.

Henry, being of sound mind, was obviously horrified and angered. It is not within Henry’s nature to be violent as the default. But in his grief, horror, guilt, shame and disgust he absolutely put his hands on William. Specifically he struck him. This was not the cause of William’s missing tooth ( that’s thanks to the first spring lock failure. ) but it was more the shock of it that was flooring to both of them.

Henry told him he was a monster, who was incapable of love. William wept, begging him not to say that. That he could take it from anyone else, but not him. Not Henry. Henry insisted upon it, and left him there. Henry is without a doubt William’s foil. The emotions both of them have about the other are incredibly complex.

Henry feels partially responsible for William’s actions, since he knew William was ... off. As horrible as it sounds, he was just hoping he would stop at at least one murder and that William would be sated in his rage. Of course, he put his foot down but only managed to do so far too late. He often wonders how different things would have been if he had stopped him sooner, if he had reached out more, if he had done SOMETHING different. He hates him, he’s angry, he wants him dead. But, more than anything, he’s so upset he wanted so desperately for William to have been innocent. To trust him. To feel remorse and come to his senses. He is so wounded, and feels so stupid for wanting to trust him.

William, on the other hand, feels betrayed. He is in awe and inspired by Henry and his abilities. Often shocked that Henry doesn’t take note of the life he seems to pour into his creations. He’s obsessed with it, with building upon it. William feels as though Henry is brilliant but just never willing to push himself far enough. He’s also enraged that Henry would try to kill him, or stop him at all. He wanted nothing more than Henry to understand what he was trying to do. He adores him, he’s been in love with him since the moment they first met.

There are things Henry is surprised that William still remembers about him, things from college or how he likes his food. Small, unimportant things, but things that William committed to memory ( and noted in journals )  -- This continues to be true in his redemption verse, although William’s journals are far more coherent and less obsessive. 

#hrrngnhngh #this is so incoherent but I'm so feral about them oh my god arruhguh #I need to actually like write a drabble of their falling out someday #i was working on a comic of it but I did not Like the art I was doing for it so I deleted it all #- ̗̀ headcanon. ⌜ 🇦🇫🇹🇴🇳. ⌟ ❛ 🇪🇲🇵🇱🇴🇾🇪🇪 🇧🇦🇨🇰🇬🇷🇴🇺🇳🇩 🇨🇭🇪🇨🇰. ❜ ̖́-

[welcometomybraincomics]

Robits Info Dump 2, Electric boogaloo

Info dump 1 

There are 7 Stations, each with a different focus and quirk.

Station 1

The first settlement and subsequently the largest and most heavily protected

All other Stations radiate out from this Station

Has the atmosphere of a bustling city

Has lots of experience in diplomacy and mediation

Has a mix of traits from all the other stations, but the architecture is very cybertronian because most of the construction here was based off stuff they got from their ships

Station 2

Was the first contact with an organic world

Originally, the most powerful monarch/emperor captured bots to fight for entertainment and wars

Captured bots worked together with native rebels to overthrow the monarchy and instatuted a republic to try and cut out corruption, poverty, and slavery (mostly because of the bots)

Bots who live here work very closely with the natives

Many bots who live here believe that the best offense is a good defence. As a result, everyone has really tough armor.

Has the best medical facilities ( Pretty much everyone in the Stations has injuries that they don’t have the knowledge/materials to fix; every one knows basic medical stuff because of this and everyone has to work on a medical team for a few years of their life)

Very close to Station 1 (often the two get confused with one another; cultural differences- Station 2 has more organic looking altmodes/are more accommodating for passengers)

The two mecha who helped lead the rebellion fly a ship called Ally that they use to run diplomatic misions and fly between all the stations making sure that everyoneone’s safe and noone’s missing.

Station 3

Highly spiritual- spiritualism learned from the natives

Use meditation

Their spiritual rituals revolve around crystals and being in tune witht he universe (Aka. “Voodoo magic” to the rest of the Stations”

The “magic” part comes from a connection created between the practitioners of their spiritual practices and an ancient rock being that sleeps on the planet Station 3 is a part of. “Voodoo magics” include levetating things (specifically rocks and minerals, but other things can be levetated too, they’re just harder), being able to sense people’s position without actually seeing them or being near them, predicting solar storms (important for Stationers because they have to be inside during these or they’ll loose all their memories again. Loosing all memories like that is called a “wipe” or “wipeout”)

Name themselves after flowers (Ex. Calla Lilly, Dalia, Ivy)

Largely powered by the sun (they use converters to convert sunlight into energon and ship that out to the other stations. For the most part, the bots themselves are also solar powered and only occasionally consume energon when they are fully grown (this leads them to be weaker than most as a general rule)

Raise their kids individually (the kids are raised by their creators and just their creators; kids do go out and see the rest of the world, they’re just raised by their parents)

Not everyone on the station knows each other personally. Bots know eachother by name, but most then to keep to themselves

Really good engineers

Population: Small, like a monastery- not many mecha are needed to work the solar plants there

Station 4

Gruff and practical

Mining colony in a very dangerous area of space ( because of debris and wipeout-causing radiation). Actual mining locations are spread across a large area

Always ready for dangerous environmental changes

Protocols are very important. Follow the rules or you might actually die

 Mostly live underground. Everyone has night vision

Main export: energon and building materials

They have their own dialect which gives a lot of information in just a few words to avoid confusion in emergency situations, so when they speak the more common cybertronian dialect the rest of the Stations speak, they either speak in incomplete sentences (only use words that convey important information) or they’re incredibly verbose and stick really closely to proper grammar rules.

Population: Medium, but many do not leave often. The younger generation is starting to travel more often, however

Station 5

This is the crazy station, and subsequently my absolute favorite

 The population consists of unethical scientists, mercenaries, and guards that were sent to try and keep the crazy from spreading (it’s not working!!!)

Mecha from here are typically very tough and adjust well to dramatic situational changes and are always ready to act (Guillotine, a mech whose experiments consistently get lose and are either intentionally very very dangerous and homocidal or accidentally very very dangerous and homocidal, contributes to this)

Dark humor is common

Dance is popular as well as dangerous music and toxic art (this is just a very dangerous place to be)

Rules are kind of a suggestion, but people know where to and where not to go and when it is safe to push their luck

Everyone, including younglings, is armed and trained to know how to fight (because they live in a very politically turbulent area of space with pirates and the like who want to either kill or kidnap them and because FUCKING GUILLOTINE) 

Everyone has a number on their plating that differentiates them from the rest of the population (ID number; this came about because at one point a chemical was released into the air that made anyone forget anything specific unless they were looking directly at it, so no one could remember anyone’s names when they were talking about them or talking to them so they just started painting numbers on people and calling them that and it stuck even after the event was over)

Violence and death are normalized (many are created, not a whole lot make it through adulthood. This is mostly a result of outside attacks)

They raise their kids in crèches (it takes a village to raise a child)

 Everyone is very very close, like one large family

Everyone is given weird nicknames (multiple nicknames on top of their given name which are also usually nicknames. at this point their legal names are pretty much just their ID numbers)

Have tamed scrapplets- highly territorial (so they get rid of any wild scrapplets), eat unprocessed metals and turn them into processed metals, some of them are coded to make hives so they can be used for building; originally, mecha were killing the pests, but then Guillotine got his hands on them and he the rest was history; also guard the station and the children who are growing there

 Tamed scraplet thought process: caretakers feed scraplets=> scraplets protect caretakers=> caretakers’ young weak=> scraplets protect young=> young become caretakers=> caretakers protect scraplets

Public self maintenance is common place (this means taking off parts of your armor and cleaning out your interior as well as realigning joints and fixing broken parts); other station see this as weird and a bit uncouth, possibly creepy/gross 

Everyone here has an accent

Population: Really fucking small. It was originally a prison place to put the crazies and dangerous people, but then the population grew (creating Station 6) and and actual prison-ish facility was made (Station 7)

Station 6

Social outcasts and the younger generations

 Art and creativity is engouraged

There is graffiti and murals absolutely everywhere

 Known for it’s chaos and low regulations

 Lots of trade with organic species, more than the other Stations (Is the Station most likely to have bots working as translators because of this)

Everything needs to be explained to them. If you want them to do something, they want to know exactly why so they know what they’re agreeing to

Have weird, organic/alien sounding names like Deali, Katari, and Elioc, Ng ‘a, Etmal, etc.

They paint certain parts of themselves with white designs/accents to draw the eyes to a particular part of themselves for beauty and some for deception (on hands for decoration or to draw attention to the face or some other part of them either because they don’t look good or they’re doing something with some other part of their body they don’t want people noticing; Ex. Paint on wings to draw the eyes away from grabby hands (pickpocketing)) sometimes they paint around injuries to celebrate surviving an incident (Ex. Paint flourishes over a facial scar to recognize a person is tough and has endured hardship)

Population: Medium, but on the smaller side. This station is mostly large because they cohabitate with organics

Station 7

Criminals and mentally unstable patients

It is literally a prison with an area for refueling and tourists

There is regulation and guards who are strict and typically no nonsense; kind of jaded and have a “that’s just [instert name]“ attitude with some of the prisoners’ quirks

Brutality is normalized, but discouraged because not everyone on Station 7 is entirely sane/lucid

Population: 100 max, smaller than small, minuscule. Probably only 50 permanent residents. The rest are put in occasionally to protect the rest of the Stations and themselves. (Like Carnage when he flew into a rage at the loss of his friend and battle partner or any other dangerous mech who gets damaged in a way that they loose cognitive function and go feral until they can get fixed)

Traits and thoughts everyone shares

Harm a youngling and you die; They are incredibly protective of their kind

Swill is not allowed anywhere near the diplomatic table (when Swill is released into the world they send out messages saying “This is Swill. The actions of Swill are not representative of the population of the Stations.” Because while he is a good business man, he’s kind of a dumbass with little tact and will steal your things right in front of your face. He needs an escort to do anything discreetly other than lie with his mouth words; he is also a drunkard and will drink you under the table)

Everyone has basic medical knowledge and how to accommodate the injured and disabled because of the general state of “falling apart” that the Station mecha seem to have

 Anything from Station one is called First (First Iacon (mech), First Ally (ship), “it’s First style weaponry”), anything from Station 2 is called Second, anything from Station 3 is called Third, so on and so forth (Station 5ers are called by their Station, then their name, then their ID number. With anyone who doesn’t know their actual names it’s just “5th [ID number]”). Mecha don’t normally call each other by their station number unless it provides some kind of context. Ex. Fifth 60 has a suggestion on the military situation (Station 5ers are well known for their combat abilities and strategic knowledge when they are able to remember it)

 Almost every single person has flight mods. Stationer: *snorts* “What self respecting bot doesn’t have a flight mod? That’s just impractical!” Flight mods are used to manuver in 0 gravity and keeps everyone on an even footing (also I just really like dual purpose vehicles); younglings get flight mods after they learn to walk and are taught how to use them in atmosphere before they’re brought to the 0 G of space (don’t want children disappearing into the void)

They take the parts of the dead to honor their memory (first started when they woke up and needed materials to repair the mecha who survived their battle and the radiation flare)

---

For a little more context look at Robits, The Epic Train Wreck Dumpsterfire of a Transformers sidestory AU

#info dump #robits #oh my god I didn't realize how much information that was #that is so much #transformers au #transformers #All named characters have at least 1 drabble associated with them I just need to edit them a bit #maccadam

[that-one-demonic-entity]

I need to go through my reblogs/posts sometime and put tags on them. But also ugh, I have no energy for that.

#demonic drabbles #like this is a for me thing #definitely #but oh my god everything hurts and its cold and my mood is more shit than usual lately #and Im trying to do things because that is what will pull me out of this funk #but my bones fucking ache #vent #i hate winter #not because I dont like the cold + it is a needed thing + i like the aftereffects of winter #but because I have something that makes it so the lifting you are feels like lifting a sack of potatoes

[ladywuvly]

— ∘☽༓☾∘ ♱ overprotective!simonriley drabble

warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, unhealthy behavior, k!dnapping, implied attempted sa, overprotective!simonriley, p!v

not only does he not like you leaving the house by yourself, but he borderline wants you chained to the bed.

you plan a grocery trip? just give him a few hours to finish his work and he’ll go with you.

you text him that you have to run to the store? no bother he’ll get whatever you need on his way home.

you want a late night snack? "no way darling, just climb back in here under the covers with me…"

to tell the truth he’s just so protective of you. he just doesn’t want his pretty little girl to be in any unnecessary danger.

but he dreams of the day someone try’s to take you from him. he’d know exactly what to do. he did it for a living. shit, he got payed to do it.

he’d find you, probably gaged and bound, in the back of some dead guy’s van. his precious baby all teary-eyed and red faced.

god, and when he gets his hands on you. he’ll teach you exactly why you should never leave his sights…

“…isn’t that right, baby?” he slurred into your ear from behind.

he had your lower half pulled out of the van’s back door. bent over, hands still bound, spit soaked gag dragging against your hardened nipples with every one of his painful thrusts.

“c'mon use ya’ words…” but you can’t. the only thing escaping your parted lips is a breathless moan of his name.

“simon…”

“at’s right… fuck… say it again.”

“i’ll neve- ah… i’ll- oh fuck… simon…”

he pull you up by your hair, pressing you against his hot chest. slipping his hand around your hip to play casually with your clit.

“don’t ya' wanna cum, princess? or ‘ave ya’ not learned ya’ lesson yet?”

“i have! i have!” you’d cry, fresh tear cascading down your previously damp cheeks.

“please…please simon… i-i wanna cum…”

“y'know what to say darlin’.” his trusts were relentless. dragging against your cervix with each snap of his hips.

a sob was drawn from your throat before your lips babbled out the words…

“i’ll never leave you again!”

“good job, baby… good girl.” he slurs before dropping his head into your shoulder, his mouth taking hold of your neck as his thrust became even rougher…

masterlist. socials. recs.

© ladywuvly please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!

#ladywuvly. m.list #18+ content #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #ghost headcanon #ghost x female reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #fanfic #navi. #18+ blog #fandom #simon ghost riley drabble #simon riley drabble #simon riley headcanons #overprotective!simonriley #overprotective!ghostxf!reader

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 | dad's best friend!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on the following request: what would dilf/dad's best friend cillian do if he found your dildo?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble...)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (18+ only), significant age gap (reader is college-aged, cillian is in his late forties), voyeurism/exhibitionism, semi-public sex, use of toys, praise kink, unprotected sex, very brief/semi sarcastic 'sir' kink, shockingly fluffy??

Not that your parents' anniversary cocktail party wasn't horribly riveting (cue dramatic eyeroll) but you were upstairs, on your bed, on your phone; you'd had enough of 'so how's college going?' and 'what's your major again?' and 'got any boyfriends yet? you must be a heartbreaker' for one evening— or a lifetime, preferably.

It wasn’t even that comfortable to be on the bed in your party dress—a cute, short sparkly one that you’d picked out for tonight—but it was better than standing around and trying to balance in those sky-high heels; those you had kicked off into the corner of the room the second you were alone.

When you heard a small rap on the door, you hummed a quick "Come in!" and didn't even look up from your phone, figuring it was your mom or dad come to find you after you disappeared.

Instead, you heard Mr. Murphy's voice as he leaned in the doorframe; "Sorry to bug you," he said, startling you slightly as you closed Instagram and set your phone down. "Just needed a Tide pen— your mom said you might have one in here?"

"O-oh, yeah," you said, sitting up, "sure— what happened?"

"Salsa fiasco," he joked softly as he shut the door behind him, showing you the dark red stain on his shirt— though the shirt itself was red, so it wasn't too egregious, but still noticeable.

"That's too bad," you chuckled, "I warned them about that salsa— if you serve salsa, there's gonna be a fiasco, that's what I said."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "They should listen to you more," he agreed.

"I've got a couple stain remover pens in that top drawer," you suggested as you pointed to your dresser.

"Great," he smiled, starting to unbutton the shirt; you got nervous for a second until you realized he had on a black undershirt beneath. It's hard to say why you were nervous about that, since you'd seen him shirtless plenty of times in the years you'd known him...

"Nobody's worried about me going missing, right?" you wondered as he continued working on the buttons, and he shook his head while shrugging slightly.

"Not yet," he replied, "but they're going to want to find you soon, you're sort of the star of the night."

You rolled your eyes, frowning. "It's my parents' anniversary party, I think they should be the focus."

"Maybe they should, but you're the much more interesting one," he informed you.

You pulled your legs up a bit, leaning to the side as you sat on your bed; as much as all this attention from your parents' friends was usually annoying to you, something about being interesting to Mr. Murphy didn't bother you so much. "Is it weird for you?" you asked, lowering your voice a bit; he tilted his head quickly as if to ask what you meant. "Going to an anniversary party after, you know—"

The words hung in the air, seeming to gather around his conspicuously naked ring finger: after the divorce. "Oh, no," he scoffed, taking off his cufflinks. "It's fine; but I'm sick of the questions about it."

You winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he laughed finally shirking off the shirt; he looked a little too good in just the short-sleeved undershirt. "You can make it even by letting me ask you how college is going."

"Oh god," you groaned, rolling your eyes, and he laughed.

"If I didn't know from your parents that you were acing it, I'd worry that your aversion to talking about it meant you were struggling somehow."

"It's not that," you assured, "it's the people."

"The people?" he pressed. "Or the guys?"

You laughed nervously, looking down at your lap. "Geez, you learn to mindread while I was gone or something?"

He stepped around your bed to get to the dresser, laying his shirt down over it. "No, I just remember that time— somehow. And I remember how much of a headache I and every other young guy was."

"I guess not much has changed then," you smiled.

"What, I'm still a headache?" he grinned as he looked over his shoulder at you.

"No, I meant—"

"I know what you meant, I'm just teasing," he chuckled. "Top drawer you said?"

"Yeah," you nodded, and he opened the top drawer of the dresser; of course, only right then did you remember that you should have specifically said top left. Because the top right was—

Oh shit.

You swallowed thickly as Cillian stared down into the open drawer, and your heart pounded as you somehow hoped and prayed that what was in there had turned invisible or something; but if the look on his face was anything to go by, it was just as visible as ever.

“I—fuck, sorry, I forgot that’s—” you choked out, face burning impossibly hot.  “I never meant for you to see—I’m—could you shut the fucking drawer, please, you pervert?!”

“I’m the pervert?” he laughed thinly, looking at you again finally.  “You’re the one with a massive fucking dildo in here.”

“Well—you weren’t supposed to see that—”

“Yeah, but—fuck,” he choked, “I was just looking for your stain remover and I see your— you have a— are you sure that isn’t technically considered a weapon or something?  How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”

“That’s the great thing about it: he doesn’t have to compete,” you explained, “that’s sort of the whole idea.”

He looked back at it for a second and you yelped, reaching your leg off the bed to kick him in the hip.  “Would you please shut the drawer?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed a bit, “but I mean, how am I supposed to react to that?

“Well, you’re not supposed to just stare at it!” you insisted.

He shut the drawer, giving you a look you couldn’t possibly decipher.

“What were you thinking?!” you said, somewhat rhetorically.

“I—well,” he hummed, looking away from you for a second, “I was thinking that I can’t imagine how you can possibly fit something like that.”

You blinked quickly, not sure what to say in response to that.  “Well—I mean, it’s a little big, but… it gets the job done.  Keeps me from calling the guys I shouldn’t be calling.”

He nodded.  “Well, that’s good… none of those college boys could possibly deserve you…”

His eyes were running all over you, and even though you’d picked out this dress just for this party because you loved how you looked in it, you felt a little exposed by his stare.

“I just can’t believe a girl like you—”

“Come on, I’ve never been a saint,” you scoffed, glancing away.

“No, I just mean… the size of that thing…” he trailed off.

“You really can’t get over that part,” you noticed, “is this some kind of… intimidation, Freudian situation?”

You glanced quickly at his pants, and he started to deny it instantly.  “No—come on, it’s not—I just can’t believe you take all that.  For fun.  It looks like it would break you.”

You hadn’t even had any drinks at this anniversary party, and yet you found yourself with this foggy head like you were tipsy; you blurted something out as if you were tipsy.  “What, you want me to prove it?”

His chest sunk a bit, and you were about to take it back when he spoke before you.  “I’d like to see you try.”

Biting your lip, you sat up on the bed, reaching around him and into the drawer.  He didn’t step back or out of the way, just let you grab the toy and lean back on the bed in front of him.

You reached up under your dress, sliding your panties out of the way, finding yourself suddenly plenty wet to fit this toy.

His eyes never left you, though they certainly travelled all over your body as you pressed the toy up to your entrance; it was thick, he wasn’t wrong, and you had to slowly warm yourself up to it whenever you used it on yourself. 

After pushing with enough pressure, the tip finally slipped inside and you let out a small sigh.  He watched carefully, and your lips fell open into a moan as you pushed the toy deeper into yourself.  When the stretch became a bit too sharp, you winced and slowed down, trying to take your time even with your heart racing and hands shaking.

You heard his own breathing picking up, watching you take the toy deeper; you found your gaze wandering over him, even lingering on his groin to see if you could catch a bulge growing there, but nothing was obvious yet.  You stared for a moment at his hands, too, suddenly wishing to have them all over you—well, maybe not that suddenly, you’d sort of thought about this before.  It wasn’t until somewhat recently that you noticed how sexy he was.  Maybe when you were younger, you understood that he was better looking than all the other adults you knew, but only once you left for college did you start thinking about him out of nowhere, imagining what he was really like when he wasn’t just being friendly with you—you even asked your mom once on a phone call if he was dating anyone.  Thankfully, she didn’t seem to get suspicious when you asked that; but she’d be more than fucking suspicious if she walked in now, saw you doing this to yourself under his watchful eye.

Oddly enough, the knowledge that someone could walk in and see this just made you even more desperate, and you gasped as you pushed the toy in deeper.

It still wasn’t all the way in, and you already felt so full… truth be told, he had a point about it maybe being too big for you—when you usually used it on yourself, you only put it in a little over halfway, since that was all you really needed.  You hadn’t put the whole thing inside since you first got it—and yes, you’d ordered it online, because if you’d seen it in person you probably would’ve been as intimidated by its girth as he was.

Your decision not to wear a bra with this dress became very apparent when his gaze settled on your chest; your nipples were hard, and clearly visible under the fabric now.  It was just because it was strapless that you went without, but you were thankful for it when you saw him quickly lick his lips at the sight.  You dared to moan just a little louder as you pulled the toy in and out, picking up your pace carefully.

“How’s it feel?” he asked lowly, his eyes drifting back to where the toy slid into you. 

“Good,” you mumbled, “really fucking good.”

“Can you really take it all?” he pressed, making your walls clench on the silicone.

Instead of answering aloud, you simply pushed it all the way in until your eyes rolled back—it was so deep, pressing heavy and fat against your deepest points until it felt like you might burst.

“Fuck,” he praised—it was just a swear, but the way he whispered it made it sound like a praise.

You sped up slightly, trying to do this the way you normally would without someone staring at you.  But you were even more sensitive with him watching, your walls clenching more and more around the toy until it was almost hard to keep thrusting it in and out.  Sighing, you shut your eyes and laid back on the bed to try to help yourself relax.  The change in angle just seemed to make the toy go deeper, rubbing harder against the spot inside you that made your back arch.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed; you whimpered, nodding in agreement, and kept moving the dildo as deep as you could get it with every thrust. 

Your free arm went back over your head to hold onto the comforter under you, your hand gripping tight for some relief for the pressure inside you.  “Fuck yes,” you whispered, knitting your brows together and fucking yourself faster.  “Feels so fucking good…”

He hummed a little, but you kept your eyes shut, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you looked at him again.  It had been months since you used anything but this, and you had no regrets—the toy performed way better than any of the guys you’d met at college.  But, truthfully, you didn’t like having to do this to yourself.  It felt like you could never move it fast or hard enough, and you needed to constantly have perfect control over the toy to get yourself to come—and when you come, the last thing you want is to take control, you want to lay back and lose control.  Still, it was better than the college fuckboys who smelled like beer and didn’t last more than two minutes.

Thinking about them wasn’t going to help you now, though; it was much better to think about Cillian, about those icy blue eyes running all over your body, about how his hands would hold you down while he claimed you, about how his lips would feel on your neck before he whispered in your ear that you were his…

You let out a sharp and sudden moan as the toy hit harder on that spot; your legs started to shake.  “Good girl,” he mumbled, making you moan even louder because god, those words just sounded right in his accent, with that rough voice—and they sounded right being said to you.

“Fuck,” you choked, “Mr. Murphy, I—”

He laughed a little.  “So polite,” he cooed.  “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Though it made your heart beat even faster, you did as you were told.  His stare was all-encompassing, making you feel completely trapped in a way you enjoyed more than you could’ve imagined. 

“Call me Cillian,” he insisted.

You weren’t sure if he meant to literally call him that right in that moment, but it sort of came out anyway: “Cillian,” you moaned, and the grip he’d taken on the dresser behind him tightened.

“Can you come for me?” he asked lowly.  “Right now?  Can you come on that fake cock?”

You bit your lip and nodded, moving the toy faster and faster— more desperate to come than ever.  “I—fuck, yeah, I’m close…”

“Good,” he praised again.  “Let me see you come, honey.”

Your back arched harder, deeper—your hands were shaking but you kept going, holding on tight to the dildo and forcing it back and forth as your legs began to quiver.

Moans poured from your mouth faster than you could try to quiet them—everyone was downstairs, you just had to hope the music and conversation was enough to drown out your desperate, pleading noises.  “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he mumbled, right as you hit the peak and melted into the mattress, a wave of ecstasy pouring over you.

You felt hot everywhere, but especially between your legs—you could swear you felt yourself leaking out around the toy, soaking it, giving away how needy you’d become and not even having the mental energy to feel any shame for it.

Cillian certainly didn’t look like he was trying to shame you for it; when you opened your eyes again, he had a stunned expression—in the best way.  “You normally come that fast for a toy?”

You laughed a little, but you still couldn’t quite catch your breath.  “No,” you admitted, “it normally takes… a bit longer than that…”

“What was different about tonight?” he mused, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes again.

“Shut up,” you sighed.  “Now I have to figure out how to take this thing out—I’m always sore after…”

“If you can handle putting it in, taking it out shouldn’t be much trouble,” he noticed.

Which, yes, that would make sense, but after coming you always got all tight and sensitive and it could be a little intense.

“How about I help you?” he offered, and your chest tightened.  He waited for you to nod before carefully wrapping his hand around your own, watching your face as he gently guided you to pull the toy out.

Your lips were slack and your eyes were probably glassy and dazed as he looked at you like that, completely enveloping you in his stare as he studied every detail of your expression.  Aside from some heavy breathing you didn’t react much to him sliding the toy out of you, until the ridge of the head reached your entrance and you winced.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s okay…”

A long sigh of relief emptied your chest when the toy tapered off and you felt the last of it slip out of you; you really noticed then how soaked you were, as a draft in the room seemed to cling to the patch of wetness that had coated all between your legs somehow.

“Lemme see, baby,” he cooed under his breath as he set the toy aside, kneeling down and resting a hand on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs open.

You could barely catch your breath with him doing that; you’d never had someone… look at it like that.  You felt incredibly vulnerable but impossibly sexy as you heard him sigh at the sight.  “Is it all stretched out now?” you wondered.

“No,” he said, “you look… just as tight as before.  Fuck.  That’s incredible.”

You bit your lip, sitting up enough to try to get a look at his face past the puffiness of your dress’ skirt, and he smirked up at you with the loveliest sparkle in his eye.  “Really?” you breathed, and he nodded.

Even though your hands were still shaking you suddenly felt brave; maybe it was just the afterglow, but you grabbed him by the shirt and sat up to kiss him, colliding your lips with his.  He reciprocated instantly, putting his hands on your upper back that the strapless dress left bare.

The kiss was perfect—needy but not too fast, sweet but not too chaste, teasing but not too slow.  The guys in college couldn’t even kiss like this… you were wondering why you ever even tried with them—or, you would’ve been if that kiss left you capable of thinking about anything but him.  “Need you,” you whispered as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips, a hand holding your waist while he started to kiss your neck and jaw.  “Not here—your parents—”

“Don’t care,” you whimpered, “I’m so—fuck, Cillian, please—”

“You already came,” he noticed with a small laugh, “didn’t that take the edge off?”

“Not enough,” you whined, getting impatient and running a hand down over his shirt and down to his pants—and you smiled proudly as you felt the hardening bulge beneath.  He choked a little when you touched him there, holding you tighter.  “You want me too,” you noticed.

“Of course I do, but—” he breathed, then stopped himself as he tossed you back on the bed; you giggled as he crawled up over you, pinning you down.  “But we can’t… your parents would have my head on a platter—once they’re done serving crawfish etouffee off of it downstairs.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on telling my parents,” you smirked.  “Were you?”

“No,” he agreed, kissing your neck again as you hummed happily.  “But if they found out—”

“So?  They wouldn’t like if they found out about what just happened, either—and they won’t.”

“But this is different,” he insisted.

“How?”

“Because this…”

He trailed off, kissing down your neck and over your shoulder, until a hand reached up to pull your dress down and expose your chest.

“Shit,” he sighed at the sight of it, and you smiled up at him.

“You were saying?” you teased.

“Right, erm,” he swallowed, “this is different because—because if we do this, you’re gonna be my girl.  Not just a misguided one-time fuck because you were turned on after screwing yourself with your dildo while I watched.”

You felt a little out of breath but nodded up at him.  “Okay,” you agreed.

“Okay?” he repeated, looking a little shocked.  “I tell you that you have to be mine and you just say okay?”

“What was I supposed to say, yes sir?” you joked.

“I just mean—shit, if I knew it would be this easy, I would’ve said something sooner,” he chuckled.  “But I’m, er, not complaining about the yes sir thing either…”

He sat up and started to unbutton his pants, making you wiggle a bit on the bed impatiently.  Even though you’d just gotten filled by your big toy, you felt needier than ever for something inside you—something real. 

Your throat caught when he took it out— it was pale and veiny just like the rest of him; long, uncut, a bead of precum starting to leak from the slit… it was beautiful, honestly.  The artificial fleshy hue of the silicone could never compete.

“Big enough for you?” he asked with a smirk, but you had to swallow before you answered because your mouth was watering.

“Yeah,” you panted, “plenty.”

He kissed you again, laying more of his weight on top of you; your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him close as he pressed you down into your bed.

One hand found your wrist and held it back above your head, while the other kept a tight wrap around his cock so he could guide it to your waiting entrance.  When he pushed inside, you both sighed with relief like you’d been longing for this for ages—perhaps because both of you had, in your own ways.  “Fuck,” you breathed, “Cillian…”

He whispered your name back to you, heavy and desperate and right by your ear, and you absolutely knew you were his, just like he said.  He only stilled for a moment when he was all the way inside, already starting to rock back and forth—but he was sort of tender about it, watching you move under him as he fucked you.  “So pretty,” he praised quietly, kissing you again, even harder than before.  You both moaned into the kiss, and a warm, rough hand settled on your thigh under your dress.

Soon, the pleasure was too much to even focus on kissing, and your mouth just fell wide open in front of his as needy moans passed through it.  He stayed close, though, watching your face go slack with ecstasy.  The previous orgasm had left you sticky and sensitive inside, still totally dripping for him, everything in you begging for more.  “Oh my god,” you sighed, eyes rolling back, your composure completely slipping already.  He made you feel so good so easily—and fuck, the way he was looking at you, it was just too much to bear.

“Mm,” he hummed proudly, latching his lips onto your neck again until your fingers tangled in his hair.  He moved down and caught a nipple in his mouth, making you whimper as he suckled at it gently. 

“Fuck,” you whined, nearly pulling him along by the hair when he moved to the other one; you couldn’t stop clenching inside, squeezing him until he groaned against your skin. 

“Won’t last if you keep doing that,” he warned you softly. 

“What if I don’t want you to?” you teased, and he growled a little between his teeth, sitting up to look down at you.  He fucked you harder, but put a hand on top of your head and pet your hair for a moment, looking at you like you hung the moon; how could he be so dirty then so adorable within the same split-second?!

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he decided, speaking softly, “how about that?  What do you want me to do?”

That was a little too much power to give you, at least in your opinion, but you grinned as you considered it.  “Then I want you to come way too quick,” you decided, “like all those annoying college boys—because you just can’t help yourself.”

He laughed a little, though he stopped to bite his lip as he fucked you even harder—and faster, too.  “Okay,” he breathed, “don’t know why you want that, but—fuck— it won’t be very difficult after that little show you gave me.  You look so pretty when you come…”

“Just keep going and you can see it again,” you promised, holding onto him tighter as he pressed into you and really let you have it—not really rough or anything, you couldn’t risk making any more noise than you were, but still aggressive and passionate and desperate.

He kissed your neck again, burying his face in your shoulder and finding the spot that made you gasp out his name suddenly; your fingers clutched at fistfuls of his undershirt, and your legs began to shake where they were hooked around his hips and half-pushed-down pants.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the pleasure hitting you again—but it was better than with the toy, it was stronger, and it just kept going because he kept going.  When your head fell back onto the mattress with a sigh, he realized that he’d made you come.

“Wait, fuck, I wasn’t looking,” he rushed as he popped his head up from the crook of your neck, “do it again.”

You laughed breathlessly and pushed against his shoulder a bit; “Shut up, I can’t do it on command.”

“You did it the last two times I told you to,” he reminded you, and that just made you feel even more deliciously dizzy. 

Yes, you were definitely his girl now—totally addicted to him.  You’d never felt like this with somebody—not just physically, but the trust and the laughter and the comfort of it all.  This wasn’t a too-empty dorm room that still smelled like fresh paint, it wasn’t a mattress with no sheets in an apartment with 5 roommates nearby, it wasn’t a guy you vaguely knew from a two-hundred-student class or someone you saw on a dating app and talked with for an afternoon before meeting for ‘coffee’ (it was never just coffee).  This was Mr. Murphy—and that should’ve made it weirder, but somehow, it just made it make more sense.

“So, if I tell you to come again,” he spoke lowly by your ear, a new authority to his tone, “you should come.”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say: “Yes, sir,” you breathed, hugging him close to you and pressing your face against his shoulder.

Of course, it wasn’t quite instantaneous, but just another minute of him giving you those deep, controlled thrusts right into your favorite spot sent you over the edge easily—and this time, he gently guided your face out of its hiding spot and looked at you, watched your pleasure overtake you, tenderly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.  “Good girl,” he praised softly, kissing you again just as the last of it drained from you; you were so numb that you barely heard him whisper something to you—it took you a few seconds to process it.

“I’m gonna come,” he’d whispered to you, “fuck, you’re so fucking warm…”

“Come inside,” you instructed, and for all the concern he tried to perform for you after you said that, his moan was undeniable, as was the way he started to move faster.

“Fuck, really?” he nearly whined.  “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, panting.

“You’re on—”

“Yes, please, just come inside me,” you begged, and he finally stopped protesting and pressed himself as deep into you as he could—you could feel the way his cock flexed, and it made your exhausted walls dig up just enough energy to flex back.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, holding onto you tightly.

You hummed a little at the feeling, turning your face towards his, hoping to see what he looked like in this moment—but he pulled you into another kiss before you could get a good look.  Even this kiss was different from the others—a little slower, a little more tired in a wonderful, dreamy way.  He was breathing heavy against you, and eventually he found the energy to push himself up with his arms on either side of your head, and you smiled up at him.  He looked really fucking good like this: his face a bit flushed, which seemed to show his freckles and fine lines even more (which you adored); his hair falling down, a little wavier from the slight sweat he’d worked up; his lips swollen and slick from the kisses; and those eyes, they looked as beautiful as always, but they made you feel beautiful, too.

“Is taking this one out gonna hurt, too?” he asked you with a smirk.

“Probably a little,” you shrugged.

“For both of us,” he agreed, “I’m so fucking sensitive now… you really do have me acting like a desperate college boy—but you know, it’s been a while, so…”

“Right, sure—good excuse,” you joked, but you didn’t mind any of it either way.

He did it a little quicker, pulling back as he took a sharp breath in, and you giggled softly.

“Fuck, I can feel it, like… leaking out,” you admitted, biting your lip at the sick satisfaction of the warm gush.

“I think I need to see that,” he said, sitting up and picking your legs up from under the knee to look at you.  This was apparently a habit of his—and you were starting to get used to it already.

“How’s it look?” you asked, wondering if he’d finally stretched you out after that.

He just stared at it for a moment longer, running his tongue over his teeth, before finally looking back at you and saying with a smile: “Looks like you need the Tide pen more than I do.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy rpf

[bigfatbimbo]

Lucifer Absolutely can't stop himself from thigh humping when making out. Like he can Not keep his hips still he gets almost frantic without realizing he's doing it. If you try to hold his hips still he nearly cries because he didn't know how much he was moving until he stopped and its embarrassing how badly he needs to start again. -mg

a/n — thank you mg this is BEAUTIFUL istg your asks are always top tier oh my god.

anyways, here’s a drabble.

His hands tugged at your shirt collar trying to bring you closer as your tongue slipped into his mouth. 

He scooted closer you on the couch you both were sitting on, hands moving to your cheeks to deepen the kiss. You finally got fed up with the distance between the two of you, pulling him onto your lap. 

He sighed into your mouth as you rested your hands on his back.

His breath got more ragged the more you kissed, sinking into each other desperately.

He moaned into your mouth and buried his hands your hair, not noticing the way his hips were grinding down on your thigh.

You moved past it at first, focusing on Lucifer’s tongue in your mouth and biting his lip softly. As the kiss deepened, his soft moans paired with the sensation on your leg made it impossible to ignore.

He humped your thigh with such speed and desperation you were almost sure he had to know what he was doing. But his face was completely focused on the kiss, meaning that despite his needy and desperate movements were totally subconscious.

The whine he let out into your mouth was cut short by the way your hands fell to his hips, holding them in place.

“Excited, Luci?” You smile, making him look away with a light blush.

“I didn’t realize I was getting carried away, my love,” he tries to joke but ends up just desperately leaning back into your lips.

You kiss back, falling into the same rhythm you had before, but this time your hands kept him still in your lap.

He tried not the think about the pounding in his neglected dick for as long as possible before it got to his head. He kissed sloppily as his eyes filled with tears and he fell away from your lips.

“Mm, please, I need too, I can’t—“ he whines, squirming slightly as you hold him by his thighs. The hardness in his cock was as undeniable as the desperation in his eyes.

It made you curious, “You want me to touch you, Luci?” your hand falls too graze his bulge.

He whines uselessly, and nods his head while his vision grows blurry from the building tears, “Mhm, yes, god, yes please.” 

“Aw, poor baby, look at you,” you coo condescendingly, “Can’t even handle a little make out session?”

Your palm his pulsating cock through his pants and he half sobs in your arms, pouting into your neck.

“I know I just—“ he starts, face wrinkling up to stop from crying and lets out a desperate whimper.

You life his head up and look at him, your hands start moving his hips for him. He moans before you pull him in for a hungry kiss.

When you break away, a strand of saliva hangs between the two of you. Lucifer’s face was wet from letting out a few tears and his lips were red and puffy.

“Go on then, pretty boy, ride my thigh, just like you wanted.” You move your thigh up into his crotch slightly and he throws his head back in a moan.

He did just like you asked and humped your thigh fast and desperately as tears poured from his face and whines flew out of his mouth.

In was insane how desperate and needy he got from one kiss, and yet, incredibly entertaining.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader

[un-lawliet]

— A drabble about falling asleep on Gojo, and making him realise something he never even considered.

You’re asleep before you even realise it, your head softly bouncing as your body slumps sideways.

Right onto Gojo’s shoulder.

Well, nearly.

The blindfolded man turns his head at the slight bump on his infinity, pausing briefly as he sees you sound asleep, a small crease in your brow as your body attempts to readjust into a more comfortable position.

That mission must have taken a lot more out of you than he had thought.

For such a well rounded sorcerer as yourself to fall asleep on the train ride home…Gojo finds himself frowning at his lack of perception.

He could have handled it for you, had you have asked him to, should you have voiced your exhaustion to him, he would have finished the mission quickly and walked you right to your bed.

You hadn’t been sleeping well recently, he had noticed that.

Being too caught up in trying to teach your students whilst also contributing to your part in the eradication of curses, left you a yawning mess, trailing your feet ever so slightly behind you as you walked.

You lack your usual air of charm, your eyes duller, and voice quiet, and Gojo finds himself, missing you a lot more than he believed he should.

When the pair of you return to Jujutsu Tech, Gojo makes a reminder in his head to take over the rest of your missions until you can promise him of your rest.

If you won’t take care of yourself, then he will.

For now though, the traces of a small smile can be seen on his lips, as your head finally hits the warmth of his shoulder, his technique forgotten for just a moment.

Allowing himself the feeling of your hair tickling his neck, and the weight of your sleep, he traces your eyebrow with his thumb, smirking as you sigh contently at his touch.

There’s an old woman, across from the pair of you, sitting with her bags stacked high on her knees, who whispers under her breath to her husband about the joy of young love, and how gentle it can make a man.

And Gojo finds himself growing fond at the thought, humming sweetly as he looks at your sleeping face, and how calm you look when against his frame.

The trains goes through a tunnel, darkness permeating the car for a brief moment.

You shuffle in your seat as the darkness becomes light once more, waking slightly at the sudden change in brightness.

Your head is resting on something…warm?

You blink slowly, taking in your surroundings before gazing up, alarm juxtaposing your peace.

You spring off his shoulder, eyes wide with concession.

“Oh my God!” You splutter out, your face burning with chagrin, your hands raising as if pleading for mercy.

Your relationship with Gojo is complicated already, you hate to make things more confusing than they need to be.

“I’m sorry!” You say, “I didn’t realise I-”

He cuts you off with a small shake of his head, a large hand reaching over to gently push your head back onto his shoulder, a chuckle leaving him as he does so.

“Relax.” He grins, and it’s the softest you’ve ever heard him speak, “If you’re tired, sleep. I’ll not stop you.”

And you breathe out and in, Gojo can feel it on his neck, trying not to shiver at the closeness of your breath.

“You don’t mind?” You whisper out, at last, unable to peer back up at him.

The hand that pushed you back to him trails down to rest on your waist, curling in to trace patterns on your skin. It makes you feel warm, and you bury your face deeper into his shoulder.

“Nah.” He replies simply, his voice sounding contemplative, as if coming to a realisation he had not yet realised he had to perceive.

And when he leaves a soft kiss on the top of your head, you feel yourself melt, feelings of confusion and any thought of hesitancy dissipating in the feeling of his delicate kiss.

“Not at all.”

Masterlist <3

feel free to leave a request !

A/N: i miss my baby :(

sorry for being gone for FIVE MONTHS omfg ?????? that’s crazy, i’ve been going insane i think but i’m back and i’m here and i love everyone here and thank you so so so much for reading <3 this was just something small i wrote in half an hour just to bring myself back into the whole writing thing :) so please don’t take it too seriously !!!! i hope you are all doing well

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk leaks #gojo comfort #soft gojo #gojo fluff #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen