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#oh.... oh the one where he is all bloody??? fuck.
blingblong55 · 1 day
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Landslide -Simon "Ghost" Riley
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Based on a request: I was talking about military father-daughter balls with a coworker and as a fluff request to also cleanse your asks: How about Simon walking into his daughters room wearing his suit, going to ask his wife to do his bow tie because he's never been one for formal occasions and sees R/N is getting their daughter ready into her dress and doing her hair.
---- F!Reader, fluff, dad!Ghost, father-daughter moment ----
It's an old tradition that dads did with their daughters, something he never expected to attend and here he is, getting in his dress uniform. His ribbons, medals and the tight berret all decored him. As he was about to put his last medal on, he remembered the stupid tie. He was good at tying ropes but stupid ties that made him forget everything he learned were just…ugh where is his darling wife when he needs him?
"Bloody thing-" he gets cut off by a giggle from his daughter. Oh, that sweet sound that made him retire years ago. As his daughter giggles, he finds himself smiling and forgetting about the tie and the one woman who knows how to tie one is his sweet wife. Slowly, he finds himself walking to the bedroom, looking down as he tries to figure out how to tie this without looking and feeling dumb.
"And then daddy will dance with me?" your sweet daughter says and you nod. "He will and you best be on your best behaviour, okay?" You say as you fix zip her dress up and smile. Simon leans on the doorway and smiles. This is the life any soldier like him ever dreamed of.
He doesn't want to interrupt, this is a special moment after all and he hopes that this becomes a tradition. One that he can continue even with the little one in your soft belly.
Your daughter with a small pout asks if she will always be as pretty as she is tonight and before you can answer, Simon does it for you. "Your daddy's little princess, of course, you'll always be as pretty– no, you'll always be as beautiful and elegant as tonight, just like your mum," he smiles and winks your way.
He always has a way with words and always knows when to compliment you and your princess.
"Now sit still, I have to finish this braid," you softly say and smile. Your little girl is as eager as ever to go out with her dad tonight. And as you do her hair, Simons sits on the edge of the bed, watching you both.
He went from guns, infiltrations and bombs to having pink stickers, toys, dolls and bows all over his home and he will never complain about it. It's beautiful really. He knows that the change is so different but it's so good, he likes the car rides to and from school where he has to play two certain songs over and over. And Soap may laugh at him anytime he gets in the car after a night out and the radio station is on a kid's station but he is a dad and fuck does he love being a dad.
Once you place the last bow and apply the glitter to her hair, Simon is next. Here he was, standing like a little kid to have his mother help him with something. "I just don't get it, love," he says as he lets you tie the tie. You smile, tightening and adjusting his shirt, "Just takes time, Si," you kiss his cheek and chuckle a little as you have to clean his cheek from the lipstick stain. He smiles like a lovesick fool.
A cheeky smile appears on him as your daughter takes his hand, "We'll be late daddy." she reminds him and he smiles. He taught her well, that time management was always important and if he had to arrive at an event at a certain time, he was always there 10 minutes earlier and now so will his daughter.
"Alright, c'mon," he picks her up and kisses your cheek. "We'll be home at 10:30, alright love?" he brushes your cheek and kisses your forehead. "You and the little lad stay warm," he says as he closes the front door.
The whole night was amazing for them both. She received flowers when she got to the car because gentlemen should always give flowers on special nights and she always danced with him all night.
It is a night for the years to come, a new tradition that will heal the old wounds of an old soldier.
Tags: @liyanahelena @uniquecroissant @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @night-mare-owl-79 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @@konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @@foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @@sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95
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sentientcave · 1 day
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It's WIP Wednesday once again! I've got some Impound for you because it's been a while and it's still not finished (I've been working on Sparrow instead and just hit 55k today which is pretty exciting).
Contains: Blue collar Simon, Price as a cop, petty nonsense from men who should know better, but they're unfortunately not very emotionally intelligent
That’s when he saw the cruiser, parked on the street out front, too close to the fire hydrant.
Not blocking it, exactly, but still too close. If it were anyone else, he’d’ve let it slide, since the fire crew would still be able to get to the hydrant. But it was Price, and he’d just warned him about this very thing.
He pulled out his phone. “Hey, Johnny?” he said as soon as the line picked up, not waiting for Johnny to speak. “Send Roach out to city hall. Got someone parked by a fire ‘ydrant.”
“Fer fuck’s sake, Si, isnae the feckin’ cop again?”
“It is. I’ll come round to handle the paperwork. Won’t make you do it.”
“Awlright, but dinnae let him catch Roach at it neither. Ye know he’ll say somethin’ stupid and get his arse arrested.”
“Oh I know. Lad dun’t know ‘ow to keep his trap shut.” Simon hung up and headed back inside, hardly paying attention to the meeting, his eyes flicking back to Price over and over again, and holding whenever he found Price looking back. It was clear that neither of them retained anything said, too busy glaring at each other over the heads of the people sitting between them.
Simon got out of the building first, and stood off to the side to smoke another cigarette, leaning against a tree where he could get a good view of Price’s reaction when he came out to find his cruiser missing yet again.
He didn’t disappoint. He came out of the building a few minutes after the initial crush of humanity, talking to Kate and Nikolai. Price stopped in his tracks a little ways out the door, focused in on where his cruiser was supposed to be, and immediately scanned the vicinity, his whole body going rigid, hands tightening into fists, shoulders squared up for war, jaw set like concrete. His blazing blue eyes found Simon, and he marched over without saying a word, leaving Nikolai and Kate looking confused, and then amused when they realized what must have happened.
Price stopped in front of him, fury radiating off of him like heat off an engine, all that energy practically warping the space between them. “What’s your fuckin’ problem, mate?” he asked, jabbing a finger against Simon’s chest.
“No problem. I was ‘ere the whole time, wasn’t I?” Simon batted Price’s hand away, resisting the impulse to punch him for having the nerve to lay his bloody hands on him in the first place. Price was lucky that Simon was so rehabilitated now. That he had his temper on a good strong leash these days. “If you din’t want to get towed, you shunt’ve parked there. Not my problem if my people know ‘ow to do their jobs and you ‘aven’t got a clue ‘ow to do yours.”
“You don’t want to start a war with me, son,” Price growled.
Simon leaned forward, the barest curve of a smile on his lips, eyes narrowed and flinty. To his credit, Price didn’t flinch, didn’t move back, didn’t drop his eyes. He wasn’t intimidated by Simon’s size, like a lesser man would be. “You don’t want to start a war with me, old man.” He wasn’t sure there was much difference in their ages, if any, but if Price was going to try and talk down to him with the son shite than Simon was going to shovel it right back, like he was an unruly teenager in a rebellious phase. “I’m not goin’ to be pushed around by a fuckin’ badge. You don’t get special treatment because you wear a bloody uniform.”
Price’s jaw clenched even tighter. He had an impressive scowl, one that could probably level anyone else. “Watch yourself,” he grit out, like each word cost him something to force from his mouth.
Simon leaned a little closer. Their noses were almost touching. He could feel the currents of air stirred up by Price’s breath on his own face. “Or what?” he asked.
“Or else,” Price said, too angry to come up with anything resembling a real threat.
Simon pulled back with an amused grunt, and turned away, glancing over his shoulder dismissively. “See you as the impound lot, hm? I’ll be waitin’.”
In the end, it was Gaz who came around to pick up the cruiser.
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themadlu · 1 day
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A Simple Thing – Pt. 1
Astarion x Zélie
It's done. Cazador is well and truly gone, Astarion is finally a free elf and his first desire is to give all that's left of his body and soul to the one who saved him from his master and from himself.
Not out of need, but of want. He wants his Zélie so bloody (pun intended) much that he takes her to his grave, and on top of it too.
So when she leaves him behind, when she realises Cazador is only one of the endless troubles plaguing him and her human life is too short to fix even a fraction of those, he breaks. Like the pathetic child he's always been.
TW: Nothing much, mentions of Astarion's past, self-worth issues, very unreliable narrator (he's still working on himself, it'll take time). Some light smut, emotional hurt/comfort.
WC: ~2,5K
Not really proofread, and written with little time, so sorry if it sucks.
Part 2 should come out sometime next week (but it's Easter, so don't quote me on that).
Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird (thank you for the idea as always!), @amywritesthings
The room is stifling, heavy, with red brocades and somewhat pretentious ornaments covering wooden walls and glass windows with a funereal flair. Dim light from the moon and the outside streets filters through thick curtains in skeletal rays, outreached towards ghostly pale fingers hanging off the side of a bed. Astarion’s dark eyes stare, unblinking, chest still in the stale air and skin so pallid he looks more dead than usual. A pretty corpse sprawled on an unmade bed, ready for burying or taking. 
He hates this; despises how the first civil accommodation they could find in weeks was so reminiscent of his own coffin, of the last two-hundred years of torment. Phantom pain grips him as unwelcome memories of bloody fingernails and mossy grave dirt invade his mind. He opens and clenches his fist to dispel the rising panic, the only sign of life coming from his prone form, and holds what’s been the one meagre comfort during the last centuries to his chest. The elf curls into a ball around what is left of his burial shroud, a once refined cotton cloth now reduced to tattered rags. 
Dirty and disgusting, but his. 
Where the hells is she?!
Cazador was waiting for his new spawn in the cemetery that night, but Astarion relishes in knowing that the vampire lord will not claim him again anytime soon. Never again, actually, as unbelievable as that was. His little hero made sure of that, a couple days before; thorough and proper as always, even in front of a hell-sent ritual, merciless as he’d never seen her before. Only for him. She cut with his dagger through the flesh and bones of her (his, theirs) enemies using techniques he taught her, marching through the horde to free him from his prison. She momentarily let her “oh-so-holy” ideals loosen enough to keep him safe and the thought stirs something wild and warm in the pit of his stomach and his chest. 
Hunger for blood is familiar enough, but hunger for another, that restless longing is still foreign to the elf. Being with others meant manipulation, sweat, sex, pain, a performed debauchery, but not with Zélie.
(Even though he’s been a whore longer than he’s been anything else.)
Living with her is…simple. Scarily so. Natural, even when his (perfectly sensible) selfishness clashes with her (absolutely infuriating) courageous generosity. They disagreed and fought so intensely at first, in the wilds (well, he fought her while she stayed next to him in silence, cutting him a look that could make an Aasimar fall.)
Astarion picks up a discarded book from the bed, trying to resume his reading. It’s a childish collection of Faerunian fables, yet he finds himself drawn to it whenever his fears resurface.
If he were capable of honesty, he would admit that he reaches for that dusty volume whenever Zélie is not with him, because she gifted it to him at the grove as she turned down the offer of an unforgettable fuck back at that pitiful excuse for a party. The elf can still remember the onslaught of contrasting emotions all at once: relief, annoyance (because, really, when otherwise would someone looking like her ever manage to bed someone like him?), thankfulness and fear. 
If sex was not on the table, what else could he give her? 
What would it take for her not to discard him when his limited usefulness runs out?
And what now, that his tormentor is nothing but a pitiful heap of ashes and the pale elf is doomed to remain a useless spawn forever more? 
That same fear slithers through Astarion again, wounding around his chest so tightly he almost snaps the book in two. Justice was served. The evil vampire lord was killed and the pathetic spawns were freed. He is free, and yet he is confined in a stuffy room that makes his skin crawl with past nightmares. Astarion groans and tries to concentrate on the words on the page again, even though he’s already finished the book twice, with little success. Barely two nights have passed since he took Zélie to the cemetery and claimed his rebirth by laying with her on top of his grave. Warmth fills him at the image of his stern, solemn hero paying respects to the patch of dirt he crawled out and to the long-forgotten elf who did not survive the centuries of horror. That night, Zélie knelt and bowed so deeply her forehead touched the cold ground, murmuring something he couldn’t understand. His ruined soul trembled so strongly at that act of reverence he cupped her cheeks to lift her face away from his burial, noses bumping together. Grave dirt stuck to her forehead and he gently wiped it off with his thumb while tutting in mocking disapproval. “Honestly, darling, no need for the theatrics,” his usual smirk faltered a little as a sudden wave of affection surged through him at her misplaced respect. She, holier than any of them, was whispering prayers to some useless deity on his behalf. He felt anger and shame lodge in his throat. 
You’re the only creature deserving of worship, my love.
“Not to seem ungrateful, but prayers never did me any good. Do not waste precious time,” her chapped lips were raging fire against as took them between his own. “Not when death could find us tomorrow.” His passionate kiss morphed into a loving peck when Zélie raised a finger between their faces, solemn as ever. “I am praying for the Astarion Ancunin,” she brushed her fingers on the tombstone and the undead shivered as if he could feel her touch in his very bones, “who was left behind. May he find peace in seeing his resilience finally rewarded.” 
She then trained her gaze on him in that way that made him squirm. He used to hate her for it, back when he lived in terror of what she’d do to him after all his masochistic pushing and prodding; now, he craves it evermore. Her palm splayed on his chest and he cursed whatever entity kept her away from him for so long. “And I pray to my god for the strength to guide this Astarion,” she tapped her index finger against his dead heart, “to see his worth in this world. To me and to others.” Astarion barely noticed his mouth parting in stupor at his lover’s words. 
Infuriating, precious woman. 
Astarion fully abandons his book, letting it fall on the bed, as the weight of her sentiment nestles inside him with disturbing ease. As if he were made for it. Her stalwart presence has the downright annoying capability of robbing him of his masks and his snark and his spite—the foundation of his entire being. He is left entirely exposed to her assessing eyes, yet he has never felt safer, more alive. He never wants to be out of her sight again, he decides. Never wants her to lose herself as he once did. Zelie’s spirit is near unbreakable and stupidly just (She would never agree with him on this, but he witnessed it first hand, after weeks of failed temptations and rancorous conversations), and Astarion will happily murder and steal and torture their path through the world if it means she can hold onto her ideals a little longer. He already did, when she was but a weird stranger to charm, as he finished off the enemies she so generously spared. 
Astarion lets out a strained chuckle, because he cannot believe he fell so irreparably for such an idiotic creature, let alone an honourable one. And now—now that she has saved him in any way a person can be saved, she leaves him in a stale tavern room. The elf covers his eyes with his pale hands in frustration. The voices in his head—Cazador’s taunting timber—tease him that his Zélie has finally come to her senses and seen him for the wretch he is. He will never be more than a lowly spawn, and leaving him in camp is her polite and proper way to ensure he doesn’t hinder their world-saving mission with his selfish ideas and his weaknesses. 
The world can rot. 
Astarion has already decided. the moment things go awry he’s dragging Zélie away from Toril itself if he must. She can glare and hate him all she wants, but he will not let the only one who ever mattered to him to protect a bunch of ungrateful, unknown bastards (The same bastards who took any part of him for themselves.) Gods, he sounds—is—so disgustingly desperate. 
He claws at his biceps with his hands, and tryings to distract himself from his worries again. It’s almost evening and Zélie hasn’t returned from the city. So haven’t Gale, Lae’zel and Jaheira, but Astarion is not a selfless being, and he only wants his precious hero to come back to him. He focuses on the night at the cemetery, on how he all but pounced on the woman who just destroyed his last defences with few thoughtful, honest words. He crawled on top of her like the monstrous thing he was, and she held his face so gently, caressed his ears and hair so devotedly he couldn’t contain a laughing sob. 
He gets hard at the memory of her letting him take the lead—trusting him, a vampire enamoured with her blood, so completely that he flipped them over and almost begged her to take him in any way she wanted. In her mouth with his back against his tombstone, clutching the stone as he moaned in the moonlight, in her core on top of his grave, where his coffin was laid, trying not to shout his name too loudly. Astarion, the one in the Elfsong, shuts his eyes as he feels himself and discovers a growing wet patch seeping through his trousers. 
He groans, tender and ready. 
But Zélie is not with him this time, so the familiar disgust at his defiled body and soul grips him again and makes him gag with the certainty that night was a one off, a way to celebrate a successful rescue and nothing more. It’s not like they can reach those peaks of pleasure at will anyway—Astarion is still too broken for that, too pathetic to offer his only saviour the one reward he can give her. He can hear Cazador’s laugher echo in his mind. 
No! She would never—she loves me! She doesn’t lie, it was real, what we have is real!
The laughter doesn’t stop, forcing Astarion to curl on his side and press his hands against his ears. Zélie loves him—he knows this, because she told him twice, even though she’d rather throw herself off a cliff than deliver declarations of affection so openly. 
“Shut up, shut up, just shut up!” 
“Astarion? Are you talking to that awful book again?” His little human’s voice cuts through the nightmarish laughter and the pale elf clings to it. 
He schools his relieved expression into a more neutral mask and sprints off the bed towards Zélie, his Zélie, safe and whole and… stepping backwards to put some distance between them. Astarion cannot stop his dark eyes from going impossibly wide at her behaviour. He panics for a moment, fearing Orin used her skills to take his leader from camp, but the vampire would not be fooled by a cheap imitation—he would recognise his love anywhere, her minute idiosyncrasies and the smell of her and her blood engraved into his memory evermore. This is definitely Zélie, keeping her distance and studying him as if he were a ghoul (He is.) 
Then, her gaze shifts downwards and her brows arch. 
Shit.
The cooling wet patch on his crotch stares back at him in mocking. “Ah, darling, I…” 
Fuck.
Astarion has been thoroughly trained on keeping up a flawless, polite, desirable front over the centuries, but he cannot think of how to best express his utter mortification at this moment. Pathetic, a consummate lover—a prostitute—like him wetting himself at the mere thought of–
“Astarion, are you��well, are you—well, uh, are you...well?” It would have been extremely satisfying to witness the rare sight of a discombobulated Zélie—something he seemed to be the cause of most times, a point of pride for him—if only he did not find himself in the same predicament. 
Say something, you wretched imbecile!
“I…I was…thinking of my brave, perfect hero,” he inched closer to her, seductive act shackling his creeping terror in the dark corner of his mind he hasn’t escaped to since the woman in front of him accepted him into her life. “And I just could not stop myself from remembering your delicious cries from the other night…and how you took me so well—” 
He should know by now that his Zélie can see him better than he’ll ever see himself. “That’s very, uhm, flattering, Astarion, but it does not answer my question. Are you well?” She is focusing on his face, keeping her gaze averted from his crotch with that impossible, utterly incomprehensible respect (They have already slept together and he all but threw himself at her in earnest.) and how could she just not understand?!
“Am I well? Oh, why darling, I’m simply marvellous! I’ve had the pleasure of lounging in this fine establishment the whole day, laying on a heavenly soft bed and staring at this tasteful walls,” Astarion’s frustration and insecurities bubble up his throat and he cannot stop himself. He is lashing at the one person he reveres, again. Proving he does not deserve her (He never will, but he is a selfish monster of the night after all.). “And all this while you were out on your merry way, gods know where, with a senile druid, a joke of a wizard and a murder-happy Githianky!” 
“You are ‘murder-happy’ too, Astarion. And more senile than Jaheira, if we’re talking about years and not physical ageing—”
But they’re not me! 
“That’s not the point! You swore you’d be guiding me or what meaningless, shallow promises you made, then I let you fuck me on my grave, then—” 
Then you left me behind. As I knew it would happen. 
“Are you quite done, my love?” Astarion stills, then sniffles in indignation. His—Zélie has only called him “love” twice so far and both times she did so to call him back from whatever spiralling thoughts sent him cowering in the furthest corners of his mind. But she clearly has no interest in having him at her side now, so hearing that so-rarely-used term of endearment makes a pained rattle come from his still chest. She is going to end whatever fever dream was between them. The certainty is so encompassing his hands shake from it, and he promptly hides them behind his back. 
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camellcat · 2 months
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WTFFF I thought thirteen would be my new girl crush love of my life heart eyes wife you-came-after-twelve-you-must-be-better-than-they're-all-saying bbygirl and then I had to sit down and watch as she told a man who (if he were not a murderer, of course) literally every regeneration before her would've LOVED and FULLY SUPPORTED that "the systems aren't the problem. how people use and exploit the system, that's the problem. people like you" </33333 !?!?
#WHERE IS THAT POST THAT SAID NINE WOULD KILL THIRTEEN FOR BEING A CLASS TRAITOR#WHY WOULD YOU SAY “ERODE PEOPLE'S TRUST IN AUTOMATION” ALL WORRIED AND CONCERNED LIKE THAT???#WHEN DID YOU START LIKING AUTOMATION OVER PEOPLE THINKING AND DOING THINGS FOR THEMSELVES???#AND WHY ARE YOU TRAVELING WITH A COPPER??? WE HATE COPPERS??????#did we FORGET into the dalek?? how about how he treated danny?? god there's so much more I can't even remember off the top of my head#(I understand soldiers are different from cops but c'mon don't even PRETEND twelve would've been any nicer if blue or danny were just COPS)#also a bit off topic bUT MAY I JUST TALK ABOUT ARACHNIDS IN THE UK FOR HALF A GODAMNED SECOND—#I know the companions are usually the ones to do the doctor's dirty work here but like#I just can't see the other doctors NOT having the business man lure the spider for being so fuckin annoying about it#like I was genuinely surprised when they had him do that whole song and dance about not doing it and then he actually just. didn't do it#the doctor LOVES fucking with evil rich business men this is PERFECT. plus why not get back at him for being awful to their companions?#absolutely gobsmacked thirteen let him act like that. I am wrong in thinking that the others would've shut his shit down a LOT quicker??#anyways. I love jodie whittaker and it's just so upsetting to have her doctor do something so wildly off#THIRTEEN PLEASE I HAD SUCH FAITH IN YOUUU I WAS IGNORING THE HATERS AND FOR WHAT#I can SEE the other doctors in her still I can FEEL them they're there she's doing an AMAZING job but. oh my god. what did they make her do#I can't even say she feels ooc as a whole because jodie is bloody brilliant. it's just these... moments. that don't make ANY sense to me...#especially coming off of twelve?? I get the radical personality switch but that belief is a core part of the doctor. or at least I THOUGHT#thirteenth doctor#doctor who#I still love all of you who love her and reading ur posts/fics but I. will not be making any myself. I do not think.
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kennahjune · 2 months
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Why does Steve fit Coldplay songs so well??
Fix You
Yellow
Viva la Vida (THIS ONE ESPECIALLY)
Thinking of a s5 AU with Steve being the final Vecna victim and Viva la Vida being his favorite song (I have no idea when this song came out lmao).
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dirt-str1der · 11 months
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Literally cant care about anything other than majima haruka bonding
#Yakuza loveblog#ohhh together ... this is less of a kiryu sickfic and more like harukas little city adventure#kiryu got sick because he was just not taking care of himself and keeled over like a victorian lady and haruka was like okay . im#cooking dinner tonight ojisan if i catch you out of bed i will be very angry with you !!!#sorry for using ojisan and uncle kaz interchangably theyre both just so fucking cute ... uncle kaz lets fuck hookers#haruka where is the methy . in my nose ojisan. uncle kaz get it twisted gamble you will win you understand you will break even#you wont lose. you wont go into debt. you will win. millions. get it twisted gamble and thats it.#majima ends up having to drive her home because he doesnt want her out on her own anymore .. which is funny because haruka yelled at him#because he joked about coming over to visit kiryu while hes sick and she was like NO !!! and he was like sheesh okay okay ...#and then shes like oh turn left here yeah this is where we're staying .. . you can come in if you want :) (she trusts him now)#i think harukas jacket also got ripped up and covered in blood so majima bought her that stylish puffer jacket she has in yk2#little girls WILL wear black singlets by the way just trust me on this kiryu also wore one when he was younger 'source?' just trust me#its like a staple of the wardrobe you need a black singlet and a jacket to wear over it plus its super cute and sensible#i like to make people straight up stab and hurt other people in front of haruka she doesnt care shes already desensitised#because she follows kiryu around every day and hes always caving skulls and making people spit out bloody teeth so seeing majima splatter#blood everywhere was nothing to her shes always getting splashed with blood every single day she doesnt mind#shes very brave to keep wearing white after that but a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do#hmm wonder if i should have a proper writing tag so i can consolidate all this shit ...#well it would mostly be for keeping track of what ive already posted because i can never remember and i keep writing the same thing#over and over again ... i only have one brain you see ..#majima comes into kiryus house immediately makes a beeline for his bedroom and sees him all sweaty and feverish in bed too weak to move#and she starts panting like a dog and kiryu looks at her with fear in his eyes#guy whos about to get his shit rocked like crazy and knows it#sorry haruka look away !!! <- thats the header i have for this fic look away from the rest of the document !!!!
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“I haven’t done this in a long time.” Simon admitted, a deep crimson tinting his cheeks. He looked down at you, and felt his heart stammer in his chest.
You looked so beautiful beneath him. Freed from any clothes, Simon was finally able to lay his eyes on all of you, and he found himself falling in love with each and every inch of you. You were perfect.
“ I haven’t either.” You spoke, your tone slightly nervous. “But I’m ready, I want this with you.”
Simon gave you a warm smile, before slotting his lips against yours. As his mouth molded against yours, you let out a sigh against him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lowered himself down onto you.
Simon let eyes drift downwards, his arms on either side of your head, watching as he slowly sank his length inside of you. A shaky breath escaped his lips, as he felt just how tight you were around him. How perfectly snug you were for him.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart, you’re tight.” Simon groaned, letting his forehead fall against yours. “Fuckin’ made for me.”
You let out a soft whimper in reply, your eyes squeezing shut as Simon slowly bottomed out inside of you. He was by far the biggest man you’d been with, and you’d never felt so full in your life.
“Simon.” You cried out, your hands finding purchase on Simon’s shoulders, your nails digging lightly into his tanned skin.
“I know sweet girl, doing so well for me. I’ll go slow, you tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” Simons breath hitched in his throat, his mind going numb with pleasure as you clamped down around his length.
Your moans were music to Simon’s ears, and he swore he’d never heard a sound sweeter in his life. The moans that were meant for his ears, and his alone. Moans that he was elliciting from you.
Simon had had sex plenty of times before you, but nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to how perfect you felt around him, how your sweet moans had a warmth pooling in his belly, how fucking beautiful you looked underneath him.
He took it slow, his hips thrusting into yours in steady, tantalizing motions. He watched as your mouth fell agape and your eyes continued to flutter shut every time you tried to open them.
Leaning down, Simon pressed his lips against your throat, and began to place delicate kisses across the reddening skin. When you let out a groan, in that moment Simon had an overwhelming urge to mark you. To prove to others that you were his.
His teeth scraped against your skin, before sucking harshly, then running his tongue along the now bruising skin. He pulled back with a smirk, watching as the skin began to turn purple.
Simon could feel his high rapidly approaching, but he’d be damned if he let himself cum before you. He snaked one of his hands down the length of your abdomen, chuckling under his breath at your ticklish giggles. His fingers found your clit in record time, and he began to rub in small circles.
“Oh my god.” You moaned, your own hands now finding themselves threaded through Simon’s dirty brown locks. “Simon.”
The sound of his name falling from your lips nearly had Simon cumming right on the spot, but he used every ounce of self restraint he had to hold off his impending high.
His fingers quickened their pace, rubbing vigorously at your bundle of nerves causing you to cry out, and tug at Simon’s hair. Your legs began to shake around Simon’s waist, and your head fell back against the pillow as your orgasm began to race through you.
“That’s it sweet girl, cum for me.” Simon cooed, peppering soft kisses just below your ear. “Such a good girl for me.”
Your walls clenched around Simon’s length, causing his hips to stutter slightly, his thrusts now sloppy as he desperately chased his own high.
“Bloody fuckin’ hell.” Simon groaned, throwing his head into the nape of your neck, biting softly at the flesh there. “Where, sweetheart?”
“Inside, I’m safe.” You panted breathlessly, your hands still firmly gripping his hair as Simon rode out his orgasm. His hands balled the sheets next to your head as he groaned into your neck, his cock spilling its seed inside of you.
It took him a moment to compose himself, before pulling his cock out of you slowly, causing both of you to gasp at the loss of contact.
He gently laid next to you, his hand rubbing at your arm soothingly, before placing a kiss to your forehead. A comfortable silence filling the room as Simon smiled warmly at you.
The two of you laid like that for some time, simply staring at one another with soft smiles while attempting to catch your breaths.
“Stay the night?” You asked, biting your lower lip. You gave Simon a hopeful look, not wanting him to leave.
Simon nodded, his smile widening as he pressed a kiss to your nose. “I was kind of hoping you’d ask that.”
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anantaru · 5 months
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EX HUSBAND WRIOTHESLEY
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband wriothesley headcanons
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, reader is referred to as "wife", a little sad, unprotected syx, hitting it raw, very rough fucking lmao, love sick & feral wriothesley, very messy too
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ex! husband wriothesley who will hesitantly accept your upsetting decision to file for divorce, and to nullify your earnest promise— nonetheless, it's evident that it was crushing him through the very inside, the pain your words caused had invited him to explore the enormity of sorrow. however, do not be fooled because he won't show it to you, meaning his pure and real emotions, instead wriothesley will decide to verbally jester around about the current happening to brighten up an otherwise daunting interaction between two past lovers.
it was to no avail, the agony festering on his facial expressions and there was nothing in his life worth remembering other than you and a concealed shade of his past— yet, the last thing he'd want to happen was to lose you entirely, signifying that if he was to put his foot down and tell you that he doesn't want the divorce to happen, it probably doesn’t mean much after all.
ex! husband wriothesley who will reminisce about past events in front of you, your first kiss or that one particular date where he asked you to marry him, just small, little details about you that only your ex husband knew of— but, he'll do it in a subtle way, sneakily sprinkling it into a conversation in hopes you'd get a dash of sudden yearning as well— the same he did whenever he casted his mind back towards the good, old days.
ex! husband wriothesley who will speak in riddles to you, keep his quick-witted demeanor in order to fool you into thinking that he was doing quite well after the divorce was fulfilled— and his intentions weren't in wanting to make you feel bad, sorrowful or even jealous. no, not at all. in fact, he thought that if he was to hide his raw emotions and genuine feelings in front of you, you wouldn't feel awful about your decision and were able to continue living a normal life, yet without him.
ex! husband wriothesley who promised you that he will take off the ring that symbolized your once passionate marriage— but will behind your back grab a necklace to loop it inside the precious metal, so he could always wear the ring around his neck, secretly hiding it from your eyes to see while holding on to it whenever he found himself in trouble, or saddened.
ex! husband wriothesley who feels helplessly confused still, harshly drawing back for air as he let a brittle thread of a nervous laughter go when you suddenly ask him if he wanted to remain friends with you, which— in truth, he didn't, and the second after you proposed that insane idea to him he thought you must be joking, or that you surely must've lost your mind (which would make the divorce explainable).
it goes without saying that the real reason as to why the duke didn't seek out to befriend you, had nothing to do with the feelings he harbors towards you suddenly dissolving, it's quite the opposite because he was so helplessly in love with you, archons, he was bloody obsessed with you.
certainly, he thought that such friendship between two past lovers would only cause injury to you both in the end, for the main part to you who he cared the utmost about.
aside from the fact that even now, when he notices how you steadily keep your distance from him, at all times, it breaks him from within.
how cold it was when all ex! husband wriothesley sought after was your gentle caress and delicate kisses, he longed for an opportunity to just swiftly hush you with one step, raw and earnest trapping you against his strong arms while pressing his lips on top of yours when— oh, he does it again, he was indulging in fantasy, gradually yielding to an alternative version of you two ending up together.
in the duke's own words, he believed that love should be warm, a sweet addiction, a magic gifted by the universe, so why— just what had went so terribly wrong that he was struggling to understand it? you should just say you do not care for him, tell him you feel nothing so he can walk away, or maybe, regardless he will stay.
ex! husband wriothesley who despite you both being apart now, remains faithful to you, protective and nurturing to your every needs— because it was simple as that— for the duke, you are his shining sun, and will still remain it to his dying day.
to his crushed and painful body, your caressing trace was his only medication, and your smile? it was the light to his broken heart, for that is what he had called a warm love.
ex! husband wriothesley who noticed how the natural warmth surrounding his body had but faded completely as his mind began to gather around great negativities— perhaps he was flawed and that's the reason you left him all along, cursed to feel the deep sadness slither through his veins like a freezing liquid conquering his body as he shuts himself off for a while, until he can recollect himself again that is.
ex! husband wriothesley who had inappropriate thoughts enter his mind whenever he thought about you— here is to note that he utterly disliked the way his brain just so happened to work and how he wasn't able to shake off those strong and vivid fantasies playing in his mind on repeat.
but how can he not dream about his wife? well, ex-wife, which in his memories was pressed under his large figure exposed with your breasts on full display, his hips working constantly to please you just the way he knew you liked it.
because you see, the duke knew your body, in and out, one might even assume he knows it better than you do. and he still has a couple of your panties left in his drawer— in fact, he wanted to return them, please believe him, but he found himself to be quite busy these past weeks that he must've simple forgotten to do so.
ex! husband wriothesley who at some point, cannot live like this anymore and was desperate to see you again. after your marriage had crushed, you weren't visiting the fortress of meropide anymore and as the duke was rarely leaving it himself, it could've been the perfect situation to move on from each other, yet he simply could not do that, not when you were constantly on his mind.
ex! husband wriothesley who will find courage and leave the fortress to visit you at your new place, in fact, the mere sight of the duke exiting the underworld was rarely seen, so the guards figured that it must be of graven importance— as invisible and weightless as your love for him might be for now, in the middle of the night he walks out to find you, taking in a last view at the fortress  before an itching impatience got the better of him. 
he just had to see you, now.
ex! husband wriothesley who will show up at your doorstep and suddenly admit that he cannot do this anymore, that he felt incredibly miserable and heartbroken, confessing his undying love and affection towards you, using words he had once spelled out to you the night you had gotten married.
"night and day, i dream of you," wriothesley yells, as if there had been nothing left to his choice, the sight of your glowering eyes and those soft, frowning lips he just misses to kiss.
"and there is not one corner on this world that you could possibly travel to in order to free me from this torture," he adds forbiddingly.
through dark eyelashes, wriothesley stares at sudden tears welling up in your glassy eyes, a sharp amenity invading your cheeks as he places his palms on top of them in order to brush your warm tears away. "you're mine," he said, the corners of his mouth slightly quirking upwards, his hot breathing lingering around your gasping lips, "and not even a divorce can change that."
ex! husband wriothesley who places a delicate splatter of warm and passionate kisses on top of your lips the moment you pull him by the collar of his shirt, his surprised growl turning into a stifled cry when you wrap your arms around his neck in order to keep him close to you, together stumbling into the coziness of your home as one hand was firmly placed against your back, his mouth eagerly parting as your lips welcome the teasing slide of his tongue lapping across your own.
ex! husband wriothesley who will hiss upon revelling in your soft fingers tracing over his twitching muscles when you undress each other, his disheveled hair accentuated with a fond smile as his hands trail down the sides of your face, leaning his hungry lips against yours again, the lingering, familiar scent of your fragrance penetrating his nostrils turning him needier, on the brink of passing out.
ex! husband wriothesley who loves hearing you only reply in soft and crumbled whimpers of his name slipping past the edges of your tongue as he cannot wait to feel you— fuck, and neither can you wait to feel him again, a clashing pressure on your hot core narrowing the space between your bodies as he lines himself up with you, your nails slithering down his chiseled back as he slides into you abruptly, your neglected cunt instantly welcoming him.
and you squeal out in pleasure as he thrusts into you, the maddening scent of his musky perfume persisting around your shivering frame as wriothesley hooks one leg over his shoulder, the squelching sounds of your wet sex echoing throughout the entire bedroom just signalizing how much you must've missed him as well, his addicting gaze always flickering across the way your body reacted to him.
ex! husband wriothesley who shoves himself further into your soft cunt— and you're just so unbelievably cute and adorable at your desperate attempts to silence those candid whines and mewls of his name. one of his hands was now placed on the headboard for additional support as to not suddenly suffocate you with his large body towering above before he increases the pace on your cunt, setting for a deep and fast rhythm that would surely stay engraved in your walls even after he's done.
ex! husband wriothesley who kisses you like a starved animal as your tears tickle the soft features on his face, your hidden emotions running wild at the sheer passion he unlocked in you, his erection throbbing harder as he groans into your lips, triggering every last one of your nerves in your body and infusing them with persisting vibrations— now, you're gasping at the lack of oxygen in your lungs as his constant thrusts into you drove you deeper into the mattress, if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been caged in between your bed and wriothesley's frame towering on top.
ex! husband wriothesley who chokes back a desperate growl as he sought out further friction, growing feral, then hissing sharply as his sensitive cockhead reaches into your deepest parts, his shaft all the way sucked in by your used pussy lubricating him so he can ram himself in and out of you harder, slick pooling out of your hole whenever he pulls out only to press back inside with one quick snap.
ex! husband wriothesley who worships your body, making you feel every thick vein as it throbs violently against your walls, your thudding hole making him lose his mind on how you're convulsing while he curls into you— your swollen cunt tensing and releasing, grinding up a little as thick, white cum gathers at the base of his cock, his mesmerizing eyes glued on the creamy spot that was showing him just how much you enjoyed this too.
ex! husband wriothesley who resumes his fast tempo, your teeth rattling with every new impact of his hips bouncing against your flesh blanking your mind into pure paradise— your moving bodies couldn't stop anymore as you're fucking each other well over the limits of your endurance, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth as wriothesley was fucking your cunt desperately, unhinged and making it a point to rock your hips in and out along a particular angle that you'd always squeeze over the rigid veins prancing on the underside of his shaft.
ex! husband wriothesley who exhales heavily when you tell him that you're close, his hips pressing and digging into your sensitivity once more before lifting you off the mattress, chasing your relief like a wild beast that he so graciously wanted to see unfold— low profanities and fast tumbles of his name falling from your lips as your thighs begin to shake and ache, your throat turning dry— you're done for, and wriothesley just fits so perfectly in you, into every curve, every spongy spot and every bump inside that you're so painfully full, crowded and overflowing of his thick shaft.
you're hiccuping due to the pressure he presses into your sensitivity as you're way beyond your own limits now, at last feeling a twitch and quake as your body pleads to cum, his grueling thrusts aiding you when you violently convulse around his length, a sharp intake of breath breaking every other noise in the room when you cum all over his cock, your orgasm hitting you hard, wriothesley continuing with slow, language thrusts until you've rode out your high.
the duke was being eager to watch it all happen, something primal at the back of his mind manifestikg when the sudden constriction of your fluttering hole made him grunt lowly against your ear, rolling his hips nearly painfully hard between your legs before dragging himself away, cumming inside of your walls and marking you up for good with his warm, sticky cum.
ex! husband wriothesley who watched you being short of breath, and couldn’t resist looking at the mess between your legs, your abused cunt twitching around his girth as your pussy flutters around nothing, your legs were quivering with a combination of your essence and his seed oozing out of your hole, staining the silky bedsheets.
ex! husband wriothesley who'll press himself back into you with one sharp snap, leaving his cock in so you could clench and throb, small thrusts turning sloppy and sticky with his dampened bangs glued on his forehead as he kisses the tip of your nose before embracing your pouty lips again, your mouth partly open as you whine out, your sensitivity spiraling of his cock still being nestled in you, his shaft already hard and thick again, your battered cunt jolting underneath him.
wriothesley smiles, "it is maddening, how much you consume my very being, my love." and speaks through his heart.
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© 2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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bfbkg · 8 months
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i was just watching buzzfeed— dave franco and alison bries couple interviews and if you haven’t done it already, reading thirst traps together?
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COUPLES THIRST TWEETS
you and your boyfriend are invited to read thirst tweets on buzzfeed
cw: HERE YOU GO. suggestive. sfw. dialogue based.
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“he’s been looking forward to this one.”
bakugou arches an eyebrow. typical crossed arms, way too casual for an interview but this is expected from him. since you’re beside him, he says more than on his own.
“have i?”
“nope. he hates when people thirst over him and over me.”
“people have no BLEEP-ing decorum. unless it’s you sayin’ it to me.”
you laugh looking to the camera, “it’s a good thing i’ll be the one saying it to him today!”
“oh god this one is long. ‘why did nobody tell me how fine dynamight is? i just saw a newspaper cover of him half naked and bloody on my way to work and i’m thinking of going back home to touch myself’.” you cover your mouth when you’re done, giggles rippling through your body.
your boyfriend makes a loud, “hah? no fuckin’ way. see that’s just…” he rips the paper out your hand to read it again.
“you are a hazard. the blood makes you look all ragged and sexy.”
he meets your eyes, pointing at you, “you people are crazy. i was bleedin’.”
“for fucks sake, ‘if yn wants i will be her dog and serve her all day because there is no reason a woman that beautiful should do anything she doesn’t want. wanna eat her ass.’”
you laugh out loud while bakugou skims it again, “why the fuck did they have to add that last part. it was doin’ okay.”
“you think it’s okay someone wants to be my dog?”
bakugou wipes his hand over his face, “nah, these people need to stay away from you.”
“would you be my dog?”
bakugou levels you with a stare. his frown and your sweet smile. it doesn’t last long before he breaks and smiles back at you, “i think i already am.”
“i think i would be able to BLEEP dynamight unlike anybody else. i’d massage him, relax him till he’s sleepy and then finger BLEEP his asshole. he looks like he needs it he’s so uptight.” you gasp, “they said you look like you need a finger up your ass!”
bakugou cannot help an amused, “what? BLEEP you! i’m stressed out all the BLEEP-ing time savin’ the world and in return i’m told i need to get fingered?”
you shrug, “maybe you do? your shoulders are so tight.”
“BLEEP you too, babe.”
“watchin’ interviews with yn and dynamight you know their sex is good. i’ve never seen dynamight so chill and yn laughs like he’s the funniest man on earth.” bakugou reads, then looks up, nonchalantly, “the sex is great.”
you shove him and he chuckles, “what?! they agree!”
“i do not laugh that much,” you shake your head, “the last person saying you look uptight and this one saying youre calm with me.”
“don’t put ideas in their heads,” he nudges his head to the camera, “tell them that the sex is good.”
“it’s alright.”
“baby.”
“great. showstopping. never been done before. amazing—,”
“yn talks and i’m just lookin’ at her tits. dynamight is a lucky man,” bakugou reads in a grumble before looking up in the camera, “BLEEP off.”
“they said you’re a lucky man!”
“yeah i am but that’s code for they wanna BLEEP you. it’s a weird compliment.”
“i look at your tits when you talk.”
“i know you do. i’m the only one with decency.”
“one night with bakugou dynamight katsuki. please please please please. i want him to rail me until i pass out.” you read, “understandable.”
“no thank you.”
you’re smiling, “really? that’s your response?”
“you’d want me to rail them until they pass out?”
you nod, “he’s such a respectful gentleman.”
bakugou grabs your stool and begins to shake it for you to fall off.
“i almost died!”
“if yn and dynamight want a sugar baby i am happy to give my application. i’d have my face in her ass and dynamight’s dick in my—woah—stomach,” bakugou reads, eyes widening at the last part. “her BLEEP-in’ stomach?”
he even frowns at the cameras completely disgusted, “where the BLEEP do you find these people?”
you could laugh at how prude he’s being, like he doesn’t say the same shit to you behind closed doors and you to him. “is that another respectful no then?”
“BLEEP no. you’re enough for me.”
“he’s already got a sugar baby.”
“who?” he blurts, squinting at you.
“me dummy.”
bakugou chuckles, his shoulders jumping. “she’s got her own money, dunno why she’s lyin’.”
you nudge his shoulder, “i like using yours though.”
if he wasn’t in front of the cameras he’d kiss your cheek since you’re leaning so close into him, “that’s alright with me.”
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dex0s · 3 months
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—♡DOUMA X MALE READER WARNING: smut, non-con, cannibalism?, douma, reader having a huge chest, thoracic area called boobs/tits, daddy kink, face sitting, breeding kink, semi-public?, incest?, cliffhanger ending (only because I’m lazy), not proof read
A/N— okay I know I was gone for like 2 months but um— yeah
You were a member of his cult and your older sister got sick to the point she had to stay in bed instead of praying to your demon lord. For the past couple days you had been asking your lord to heal your sister. And at first DOUMA was uninterested or just ignored you but then he got a full look at you. (H/c) hair, beautiful bright (e/c) eyes, nice face, well shaped body, and lastly YOUR CHEST. Oh and how he was so in love.
“Oh look a new play thing. Just. For. Me~ and ONLY me~”
After that you notice changes. One, Douma would ONLY look at you if you in the room but the moment you leave his face becomes disinterested (even if he doesn’t have emotions he feels like his life just decrease by a life time). Two, you ALWAYS feel like you’re being watched no matter what you doing or where you are, there are always RAINBOW EYES watching. And three, when you go and pray to your lord you can notice the lust in his eyes like a predator eyeing their next meal.
“I can’t believe I haven’t noticed you sooner… I wonder if that man will let me keep you~ who know maybe I will quit bugging him~”
Knowing damn well that man can hear him
One time you went to douma and asked for his blessing so your sister could get better and by pure coincidence your sister gotten better and could move around better then before. You thanked douma for the blessing but even tho it was a complete coincidence douma wanted more than just a thanks. He gave you his blessing and healed your sister. He wants more and he will get want he wants whether you want it or not .
HaAh~ Oh you tastes Sooo~ good~ Your so good—Fuck! for daddy~
Grinding your hips into the pillow while Douma is thrusting in and out your ass. “Ahh~ you look like dog when you do that~” Douma said, moving his hand up your body and stopping at your chest. “W-wait~AH!” Slamming his cock back in he starts to grope your chest. “Hmm! What a— good boy you are, so good— for daddy” you start to feel yourself about to release and you try to warn your lord but all that came out was babbles. Douma seem to notice this and started to go even harder on you hearing your gummy walls take him in and out and all the noise you were making made him even more hard then white sticky cum came out your dick but that didn’t stop Douma in fact he decided to switch it up a lot bit.
He lifts you over his face, your legs are shaking then slams you down on his face. Taking his long slimy tongue starting with kitty licks, suddenly roughly gripping your thighs and full on eating your ass like there’s no tomorrow. When the door opens (you didn’t even notice at first) it reveals your sister. Your sister was in shock, she didn’t know you had a side like this. Hearing your moans and the licks your sister can feel a wet spot in her undergarment. While your sister was standing there Douma could smell her wetness and started to get upset.
“Why is she here.”
“She needs to leave can’t she see I’m playing with my plaything.”
“It’s her fault he’s in this situation”
“She shouldn’t be so selfish and get sick”
“You know what… It’s show time”
Taking out his tongue from your ass, he moves you to his lap. Picking you up with your legs wrapped around his waist Douma starts to walk to your sister. “You know it’s rude to stare” using one of his free hands and roughly grabbing your sister’s chin forcing her to look at his rainbow eyes. “W-what are you doing to my brother!” Yelled out your sister that was trying to force Douma’s hand off of her and trying to reach for you, when Douma grabs the hand that was reaching for you and pulling it off her body. Finally snapping out the trance you hear a bloody cuddling scream. Turning your head around to see your sister on the ground clutching her shoulder but before you can say anything you were placed on the ground on all fours in front of your sister.
“Why don’t we put a show on for your sister~ hmm dear~”
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coryosbaby · 7 months
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Who Has a Face Like Smarty Does?
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—“Why don’t you just listen?”
Fandom: “Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse”
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Spider! Reader
Summary: You don’t know when to follow orders.
Cw: dubcon/cnc, nsfw . spanking, daddy kink, age gap, spitting, size kink, biting, marking
🩷🤍
“You’re such a fucking brat.” Miguel pounds into you at a restless pace, fangs bared sharp and scraping against your jugular. “Why don’t you just listen? Huh? Are you that fucking stupid?”
Your eyes roll back as his incredibly thick length bruises your walls. You know you’ve been bad; going directly against his orders to help Miles is probably the worst thing you could do. And getting sassy about— having an attitude— definitely didn’t help. So when he threw you into his office and ripped the crotch of your latex suit, exposed your puffy cunt to the room, and bent you over his desk, you knew you were in deep trouble.
It hurts, the way he’s fucking you. But you know he doesn’t want you to feel pleasure. You know he wants to break you. Blood coats your tits in thick red stains, bite marks running along your neck and jaw from where he sunk his fangs into you. Aphrodisiacs, they are; and when they sink into you all you can think of his thick, hard cock, bulging muscles and handsome face. You’re like a bitch in heat.
“‘M sorry, daddy!” You cry out. It’s too much, but you know he won’t stop.
“Oh, you’re going to be sorry, little girl.” He growls. “Daddy’s gonna fill this fucking cunt up. That’ll teach you to mind your manners, won’t it?”
“Yes daddy- fill me up! Please fill my pussy up, need it s’ bad..”
It’s all you can say. His hands curl up into the position they make when he’s about to shoot the webs from his wrists; the sound of the sticky substance landing on your shoulders makes your mouth gape as he uses his own webs to lift your body firmly off the wooden desk. Your nipples barely graze it as he speeds his pace up. A damn near impossible speed for a normal man, but Miguel O’Hara is not normal.
He moans when he looks down and sees your creamy spend leaking down his cock and balls. His thick thighs are hitting your ass as he ruts into you. “mi amor, estás chorreando…” translation: My love, you’re dripping.
Other harsh disgusting words spew from his lips. Your gaping snatch is closed tightly around him as he sinks his fangs into you again.
Your eyes roll back, a pained but also pleasured cry leaving your soft lips, legs shaking and cunt drenching him. His claws dig into your sides and then he reels back and slaps your ass. You gasp, and begin fucking back onto him when he does it again.
“Oh, look at you,” Miguel teases. “You want more of my slaps, little one? Do you want to be punished?”
You nod, and his hands come down onto you again.
“Miggy..”
“I want you to cum, mi amor.” He states breathlessly. “Rub your clit and wet my fuckin’ dick.”
You don’t understand why he’s letting it happen so soon. Wasn’t this supposed to be a punishment? But you listen to him anyway, and begin to rub the swollen nub with harsh strokes. Your orgasm has you practically screaming— and afterwards, Miguel doesn’t let up. He abuses your womb over and over until you can’t even breathe. It’s borderline painful, and your body feels completely spent and used.
By your tenth or eleventh orgasm, he’s got you pinned to the wall by his webs with his arms holding your neck in a chokehold. He eats your cunt out with his bloody mouth, and your eyes are rolling back, little nghhhs sighing out of you as he slurps your sopping wet hole. Your vision is going fuzzy, but you don’t care.
“Are you learning your lesson, mami?” He groans, as he pulls away from your cunt and rubs harshly on your clit with his thumb. You sob, nodding, drool leaking out of the corners of your plush mouth.
“‘S.. ‘s too much, miggy. Please, I can’t take it anymore..” you whine, but his fingers harshly slap your pussy and you jolt with a cry.
“You take what I give you.” He says, and then he’s ripping the webs from your body and letting you slide down the wall onto the floor with the help of his strong hands. You cry, legs trying to run away from him; you know you want it, but your body is drained.
Miguel growls, his claws grabbing you in a loose grip and dragging you back to his cock.
“Don’t run away from me, little bitch. You need to be fucking disciplined! This cunt is going to cum again whether you like it or not.”
You pant against his crotch as he shoves your face into his pubic hair. The smell of his pheromones makes your eyes roll back.
Your cunt pulses again.
—fuck, you’re in trouble.
© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!
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It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[ Chapter 13 ] || [ Chapter 15 ]
Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.6K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: this is purely self-indulgent. I wanted them to kiss.
Click here to see some fanart of this chapter by my lovely moot @xxshadowbabexx.
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Chapter 14: (B)romance?
After that conversation, things got slightly easier. You found yourselves talking about random things, Simon showed off a few bandages from fresh injuries he got just this past week on a mission…
And almost an hour after they arrived, you were all sprawled from the couch and over the coffee table, watching one of the original Scream movies, much to Ghost’s delight and your displeasure… Which soon switched and turned into your and Gaz’s pleasure and Ghost’s dread.
“Look, it’s you.” You pointed at the TV for the fifth time in the row every time Ghostface was seen.
“I hate you.” Ghost groaned playfully. “Kyle, why’d you tell ‘em I wear a skull on the job?” He scoffed.
“You’re the one wearing it and you wanna blame me?” Kyle quipped as he cocked his brows. He had his arm draped over your shoulders and he used his hand to nudge Ghost on the shoulder.
“It’s making me look bad, mate, it’s the principle of the thing!” Ghost retorted as he snaked his arm between your back and the back of the couch, nudging Gaz’s exposed side with his own finger.
It was the first time that Gaz had ever heard Ghost call him, or anyone, mate. It would’ve made him smile, if the bloke wasn’t poking him.
“Oi! Watch it!” Kyle complained as he squirmed a bit against you.
“You ticklish, Garrick?” Simon quipped with a mischievous glance.
“Will you two stop it? I’m trying to watch the movie!” You scolded them, nudging them both with your elbows, causing them both to squirm, though Ghost’s squirming was much more stiffening than wiggling. “Childish…” You added.
“Not childish.” Simon retorted. “I’m 3-fucking-4.” He replied.
“You’re what?” Kyle asked as his head turned sharply to look at Ghost. “I thought you were 40.”
“You thought I was as old as Price is?” SImon asked as he turned to look at Kyle too.
“No wonder you look young, I thought you looked good for your age because of the mask and not being in the sun all day.” Gaz explained.
“Oh. My. God. Are you two having a moment right now?” You asked them, making them both turn to look at you with wide eyes. “Your little bromance is interrupting the movie.” You quipped with an impish smirk on your lips.
“Oh, we have a ‘bromance’, is it? You wouldn’t talk like that if you had my tongue down your throat like a few weeks ago.” Simon asked with a look in his eyes that said he did not appreciate the joke. But that just made you start giggling and biting your nail.
“Wait, you’ve kissed?” Kyle asked in surprise as he bounced up a bit and turned to look at you both.
“Yeeeees…?” You replied with a sheepish reply.
“So you’ve seen what Ghost looks like?” Gaz added.
“Noooo…?” You added as you casted Simon a glance, which only made him chuckle behind his mask.
“I said I’d let ‘em in due time.” He explained for you as he gave you a little squeeze.
“So, you’ve gotten drinks, eaten dinner, played videogames, had a movie night, slept together… All with the mask on?” Kyle asked, flabbergasted.
“Well, no. I took the mask off to sleep.” Simon replied.
“YOU TOOK THE MASK OFF TO SLEEP?!” You shrieked a bit, which only caused another grin to form on Simon’s face, his brown eyes crinkling smugly.
“You were asleep. It would’ve stank up if I slept with it on, I’m a mouth breather.” Simon replied.
“Ew, a mouth breather.” Gaz quipped, making you both laugh.
“I guess we’re just… not gonna watch the movie, huh?” You remarked as you glanced over at the TV where some blonde was screaming bloody murder.
“Guess not.” Gaz replied and shrugged a bit. After a beat of silence, he glanced over at the two of you again and narrowed his eyes. “How was it?”
“Hm?” You asked with a cocked brow.
“He means the kiss.” Simon replied as he nudged you with his shoulder, his arm lightly squeezing at your waist.
You scrunched up your lips sheepishly and shrugged. “It was good…”
Gaz and Ghost shared another look over your head, silently communicating between one another while stealing glances at you.
“Just good? And here I thought you’d liked it.” Simon remarked in mock offense.
“Right? I was going to say that doesn’t sound very convincing.” Kyle quipped.
“I-” You hesitated and sighed. “Will you two stop that? I know what you’re doing! Don’t fucking bully me!” You scolded them and you immediately noticed the smirk on Kyle’s lips, which you knew Simon was mirroring.
“Maybe I owe you a repeat.” Simon quipped as he shot Kyle a look and then looked down at you.
“A repeat?” You asked in shock as you blinked lightly. 
“And I definitely owe you one for comparison.” Kyle added.
“But…”
“But what? You talk that big game and act like a brat this whole time, trying to embarrass us…” Simon trailed off. “I think it’s time we get payback.” He added.
“Only if you’re okay with it.” Kyle interjected.
“Of course they’re okay with it.” Simon added and glanced down at you.
Sheepishly and with very warm cheeks, you found yourself nodding, not quite knowing the mess that you were about to get yourself into.
But, then again, when are you going to have the opportunity to have two blokes wanting to kiss you at once? Mia and Leah would kill you if you didn’t take the opportunity.
Simon’s warm, calloused and rough hand grabbed reached up to cover your eyes and after a second, the other clamped around your jaw the same way he had done weeks ago. You could hear Kyle’s breath hitch behind you, a sign that Simon had taken off his mask.
Then, Simon’s lips crashed into yours, his tongue already pushing its way inside. Once more, your tongue found the metal of his barbell piercing, the cold and hard texture drawing a whimper out of you as Simon dragged it over your own tongue.
You could feel Kyle’s warmth next to you, his arm slightly tightening his hold on you so you wouldn’t escape Simon’s kiss. Your hands gently grabbed onto Simon’s forearms, fingers digging in as the kiss left you light-headed.
After a moment, Simon pulled back, fixed his mask back into place, and uncovered your eyes. “So?” He teased when your eyes adjusted to the darkened room, illuminated only by the blue light of the TV playing the movie.
“Hm.” Was all you could reply with, a stupid little sound that didn’t at all convey how good the kiss felt. But it made Simon laugh, open mouthed, belly laughter, his head falling back over the edge of the couch.
“Cat got your tongue? Oh, wait, no, it’s me.” Simon bragged and you could swear he had a massive shit-eating grin on his stupidly kissable lips.
“Let me check.” Kyle replied and his own hand snaked to grab you around the neck. Before you had time to register it, your head was being dipped back and his lips were against yours.
Unlike Simon, Kyle’s lips were thick, warm, smooth… His tongue was a lot wetter, probably a consequence of Simon’s throat being permanentely dry from wearing the mask too much.
Now that he was so close, you could feel everything. The way his fingers gently rubbed at your pulse points on your neck, the scent of coconut oil that emanated from him, the light prickling of his goatee against your skin, when Simon’s was completely shaved clean…
Simon’s hand snaked down to your thigh and rubbed it lightly as you lost yourself in Kyle’s kiss, your hand grabbing and softly tugging onto his purple jumper.
You were the one that broke the kiss with a gasp for air, your eyes snapping open and finding Kyle looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he licked his lips. “So?” He echoed Simon’s earlier question.
Looking away, you sunk back on the couch and scoffed. “I hate you both.” You grumbled, making them both laugh.
“Damn, I didn’t think I kissed that badly.” Gaz quipped playfully.
“I sure as bloody hell don’t.” Simon replied. “I think they just have poor taste.”
Crossing your arms, you glared at them both. “Yeah? Well… If you’re both such great kissers, then why don’t you prove it?”
The two men looked over at you with raised brows and blinking away their shock at the suggestion. Then, they glanced at each other and seemed to be communicating wordlessly again.
“I’m fine with it.” Gaz quipped, humourously.
“Makes no difference to me.” Ghost replied. “C’mere, Garrick.”
Before you even had time to say you were joking, Simon tugged up his mask with one hand, enough to reveal his jawline and mouth, while the other wrapped around the back of Kyle’s neck with more aggression than necessary.
It was the first time you got to see a snippet of Simon’s face and his jawline was just like you had expected. Harsh, sharp like diamonds, free from any type of hair, and riddled with rough scars and a Glasgow smile carved from the corners of his mouth.
Their mouths collided so harshly that Kyle’s eyes doubled in size before he let go and closed them. Your eyes widened as well as you watched them locked in a kiss that was more passionate than I think any of you expected it to be.
As they pulled away, Ghost pulled down his mask again and glanced over at you, while a very shocked Gaz stood perfectly still, eyes widened and mouth left hanging open… Before he shook himself awake from his trance. “You have a piercing?!”
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mockerycrow · 10 months
Note
Hey hey, can I request the 141 boys + König's reaction to a random soilder slapping fem! Reader's ass, preferably platonic! where they see reader as a sister. Thank you your work is *chef's kiss*
141 + König’s Reaction to Fem!Platonic!Reader’s Ass Slapped By Rando
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cod masterlist
I’m having a 400 follower celebration!!
A/N: I feel ehhh about this one, but rest assured that i tried!! also, all characters are aware you can defend yourself. they are just protective.
You were talking with him softly, leaning an arm on the nearby counter with your hips jetted out. You laughed at something he said, your head tilting to the right for a moment before there’s a loud smack! you make a panicked noise and turn around quickly and you’re met with the face with a young man with a smug face, with an expression like he did something that you liked. Your eyebrows furrow and you prepare to give the young man an ass whooping when he swoops in.
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-> John Price
“Keep your bloody hands to yourself, soldier!” Oh, Price is fucking fuming. He doesn’t stand for workplace harassment and unwanted touching for anyone, this is the fucking military—not a place to try to hookup.
Price does not let the man get a word in, even when the man is stuttering out his apologies—that are ordered by Price, by the way—and he drags him out of the kitchen area to file an official report of his behavior.
He subtly threatens the man, ensuring that if this behavior continues, “you will be dealt with. I will promise you on that.”
Price is very aware that you can handle yourself, but he just was not in the mood.
-> Kyle Garrick
He’s seething and Kyle doesn’t hesitate to push the man away from you, shouting, “Have you gone absolutely mad?!”
It does not matter if this man ranks above Kyle, he throws ranks out the window by this point, yelling about how he’s disgusting. “You’re acting like a bloody chav, get ahold of yourself!”
You’re so convinced Kyle is about to punch this guy, but he shows a good amount of self-restraint, spitting another insult through gritted teeth, voice low, “Next time you’re being dodgy, I’m throwing you to the fuckin’ wolves.”
-> John MacTavish
He pushes himself between you and the offender, an unhappy and unamused look prickling at his features. He has a faux-smile, his lips tight and uncomfortable. He laughs and claps a hand down on the man’s shoulder, making the man wince from the force.
“Buddy!” Soap calls him, his tone edging onto unsettling happiness. He’s absolutely furious because no one deserved unwanted touching. Soap sees you as a little sister and he’s always been protective of his little family. the 141
He leans in and whispers something to the man, causing all of the color to drain from the guy’s face and he runs off, causing you to glance at Soap. “What did you tell him?”
Soap just offers you a cheeky smile. “Oh, y’know, If he decides ta’touch anyone like that ever again, I’ll make sure that he physically cannot.”
-> Ghost
Ghost immediately pulls rank, right away. He isn’t the type to do it really, but this is absolute unacceptable behavior. His voice is dripping venom and is rough as sandpaper, nearly snarling with every word—yet keeping a calm composure at the same time.
“Go outside and dig a hole. Don’t stop until it’s as deep as your height.” “W.. What? Sir..—“ “Do not make me repeat myself. Go on.”
He 100% uses PT (physical training) as a punishment on these types of guys, and ordering him to dig a hole is a task laced with humiliation.
His glare screams “I’ll kill you if you touch her again, and I’m not joking”. Ghost is very protective of the ones he cares about, and that includes you,
-> König
Using his size to his advantage, he looms over the man with a deadly glare, the rumors you’ve heard—the terrifying man that belongs on the battlefield? That very man appears in the common kitchen that night.
He’s also the type to pull rank—and this is one of those times no one realizes he’s a Colonel until he mentions it and absolutely does if the guy talks back to him. “What did you just say to me?”
König snarls with every word, berating the man’s behavior, asking him if he would like that done to him or any woman in his life, etc.
You would have to hold this fucker back from actually hurting him, or else you’d end up with König on a two week suspension.
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gyusinning · 2 months
Text
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bruises | k.mg
street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader
established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭
summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues
wc: 2.7k
you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.
a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.
“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.
he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.
“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”
you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.
“you shouldn’t be.”
“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”
“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“
“well i think you should stop.”
it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.
“what’s so fucking funny?”
“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”
“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”
“please y/n, it never goes that far.”
“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.
mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.
the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.
-
9:02 PM
(5) missed calls
gyu?
mingyu im sorry
are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?
please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((
a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.
he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.
“you leaving?”
mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.
when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.
he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.
you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.
“did he say anything to you when he left?”
“nah, he just walked out.”
oh. it was minghao.
“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”
mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.
“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.
“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”
“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.
“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”
his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.
“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.
“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”
you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.
“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.
“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.
“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.
“please, i want to.”
mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.
you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.
“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”
you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.
“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.
you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”
mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.
it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.
you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.
“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”
you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.
“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.
“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”
mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”
with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.
your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.
“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.
“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”
“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.
“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.
you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.
“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.
you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.
mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.
you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.
“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.
“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”
mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.
tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”
you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.
“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”
“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.
“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”
you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.
“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”
“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.
the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.
“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.
you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.
mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.
you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.
“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”
“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.
“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”
“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.
“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.
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@gyusinning | thank you for reading!
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karmavongrim · 2 months
Text
Dear Father fanfic idea
DC x DP crossover fanfiction
Fanfic idea of Danny adopting everyone. He’s worse than Batman since he does it 200% deliberately with no age nor race restriction.
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“Absolutely fucking not.”
Yeah, nope. No way in hell was he, John mother-fucking Constantine going to let this happen. Only over his dead body, which might actually be the case by the end of the bloody day if they couldn’t come up with something else other than that. And he wasn’t going to change his mind no matter how much the kid currently gallivanting as a demi-god whined. Wasn’t that a news when he found out several months ago.
“Come on Constans, we both know he wouldn’t mind. Besides what else can we do, we’ve tried everything.” Captain Marvel pleaded with the older man as he gestured their surroundings.
It couldn’t be described as anything else other than apocalyptic. A complete fucking shitshow.
Apparently a prophecy of some kind came to fruition right under their bloody noses and they were left grasping straws to try and stop the end of the world from happening. If only-
“Call him or I’ll call him John! Your choice.” Pressed Marvel who was getting fed up with the magician’s nonsense but he wasn’t bugging, no siree!
“Shut up, we don’t need his help! Just let me-” John yelled while buried head first in his spell book, desperately trying to find away that didn’t require him to relinquish the last few pits of his shabby dignity. Or what was left of it anyways. But Marvel was having non of it.
“Nope, that’s it! I’m making the call!” The red glad man shouted over the blonde brit and pulled out his personal phone which looked like it had been pulled strait out of a sci-fi movie.
This caused John to lunge at Marvel who in return floated away out of his reach.
“Are you daft? I’ll never hear the end of it so don’t even- Hey! Don’t you dare, I swear-!” They were quickly interrupted by a black looming silhouette quickly approaching them.
“I hope that you two have come up with something since you’re able to play around like this.” Batman demanded in gruff manner, man looking worse for wear just like the rest of them. Marvel swiftly positioned the dark one between him and his would-be assailant.
“Oh we did have a solution from the very start but someone thinks that we don’t need any help. His poor ego wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He told as he threw a look over his makeshift barrier’s shoulder.
“Shut your cakehole.” John hissed but was reluctantly put in place by a hard glare from mister darker and gloomier who turned to the floating magic-user.
“What is this solution exactly? Help from who or what?” At his inquiry the boy-man hero couldn’t help but beam when he began to explain what, or rather who he had in mind.
“Well I was thinking calling our-” But he was rudely cut in before he could get far.
“We aren’t calling anybody because we don’t need his help! We can take care of this on our own!” Batman turned back to the blond and was clearly at the end of his patience.
“We are running on borrowed time Constantine, if there is any chance to for us to stop this then we should take it since we don’t have any other options left.”
The two began to argue so heatedly that they didn’t pay attention to Marvel speed dialing the number he kept close to his heart. With a dopey grin he bounced on his heels while he waited for the other side to answer. After just two rings the line connected.
“Hi kid! What are you calling in for, did you get out of work already?” A jovial, baritone voice rang out which instantly relaxed the kid-not-kid hero. The all-composing feeling of warmth, protection and safety could almost be felt through the phone which never failed to make him feel comfortable and at peace.
“Hi dad! No, I’m still at work and we kinda shorta need your help. Badly.”
He could near feel the change in his father’s mood and he definitely heard it in his voice.
“What do you need? Where are you?” Came the rapid questioning. His smile never left as he thought how dad always went strait to business when it came to his family and friends. Always ready to help no matter what or why.
“Well, apparently the apocalypse is happening and we have no idea how to stop it… Can you help us? Please?” He tentatively asked as he glanced back at the bickering duo. Sometimes he asked himself if he really was the only secret child there.
“Ha ha, no need to beg, let alone ask. I’ll be there in a jiffy once I know where you guys are. Just try and hang in there kid.” Voice on the other side commented in lighter tone.
Marvel let out a sigh. He knew that everything would be okay after all.
“Thanks dad. We are currently stuck on Metropolis in it’s central, it’s a complete mess in here.”
“Everything will be fine. See you soon.” The voice chuckled and cut the call.
Yes, everything would be just fine. He turned to call out to the idiots who looked to be near ripping each other a new one.
“You two can stop now, he’s already on his way!”
He had to wince at the speed which the blonde turned his head to stare at him. Then came the familiar cursing.
“Fucking shite!”
He merely rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in irritation. He glared at the magician.
“Seriously, what’s your problem? It doesn’t have to be this difficult you know.”
Before John could comment, Batman pushed pass and stalked up to Marvel.
“Who did you call?”
He couldn’t say much before more of their fellow heroes started to trickle in. Flash no surprise being the first.
“Hope you got something up your utility belt Bats, we can’t take this much longer.” Pleaded the red speedster. He was joined by Green Lantern carrying injured Superman and ouch did he look roughened up.
“Have to agree with Flashpoint. Were running out of juice fast, and even Big Blue is out cold.”
Marvel looked at the others coming in. Martian Manhunter, Zatara, Wonder Woman, Black Canary and even Doctor Fate was there, none of them looking any better.
“Well, I’m glad to announce that help is on their way so we can all sit back and relax for a bit. This will be over in no time.” He declared brightly.
The others goggled at him like he made the most outlandish statement in all of history, minus Constantine who has decided to use this small window of calm to drown his headache in his flask while he still can.
“What the hell are you on about? What help? Who could possibly help with this!” Flash yelled out the question in everybodies mind.
“I would like to known this too finally.” Batman demanded this as well.
Seeing everybody hanging onto his up coming explanation he smirked at John who gave him oh-so-eloquently middle finder in retaliation. Well to bad, he would have to just deal with it, the big baby.
“Oh nobody too important, just the most powerful and influential being in all multiverse. Some of you might know him by his monikers like the First Champion, the Balancer, the High King and the Great One.” He said flippantly as he pretended to check his nails, trying his absolute best to hid his smug smile when he noticed Zatara and Fate going rigid and pale.
Zatara near stumbled thanks to his shaking knees. He took couple faltering steps towards the Champion of Magic. His expression mix of reverence and fear as started to whisper as if dreading that someone or something might hear him if he spoke too loudly.
“Y-You couldn’t possibly mean King-”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence for they all felt the change in the air, in the ground.
He has arrived.
Time came to a crawl, the world slowed it’s movements in face of approaching force. It quaked, it trembled, it slithered. Leak becoming a downpour, a tear in reality of sickly green opened above the group, high out of reach. What little light still had remained in the hellish landscape around them were drained as if all the world’s shadow congregated around the opening to greet its master like a deprived servant. Then a figure of black and white caped in light seemingly holy, descended from it. Even from afar they could distinguish their towering form who’s muscles failed to hide under its full-body armor. Their mountainous presence becomes more and more apparent the closer they came. What they thought as wings of pure and white was actually a cape of moving light.
Blazing green eyes as that of the tear gazed upon them from under their moonlight hair, which coupled with the iron grown of flames created figures of shadow dancing across their hardened features as if to praise their beholder’s glory.
Zatara had already collapsed on the ground in utter disbelieve. All the myths and legends were true all along.
“King Phantom.” He spoke in awe and bowed before the king as did equally shocked Doctor Fate.
“Hi dad!” Marvel yelled and dragged the laughing magician by his coat to greet their new arrival.
All of their associates looked between the clear powerhouse of a being and their red heavy hitter in utter incredulity at the revelation. Zatara and Fate near had a heart attack at the way their magical colleague addressed the mythical presence. Marvel had a father? And this horrifying existence was it? What sent them reeling even more was how the king’s responded.
With his arms stretched he lowered himself fully to gather the two smaller men in his embrace.
“Kids! Boy, when you said that you needed help bad I think you might have underestimated a tiny bit.” He joked with a toothy smile as he moved to get a better look at his more-or-less willing captees of his affection. His expression softened even more at the face of Constantine, not the others could see.
“John, it’s so good to see you as well.” He said softly and ruffled both of their hairs, eliciting a laugh from his youngest and indignant pout from his fourth oldest who tried to swat the offending hand away.
“Whatever.” John growled but Phantom didn’t mind since he could see the blush caking his scratched up cheeks.
Now this drew his attention, both of his boys were in horrendous shape and he would do something about it after his job was completed. Looking at the blood willed sky no longer colored by his green and the burning wreckage that is this dimensions earth, he knew he didn’t have much time.
“I suppose we should get this over with then. You two better get back to the Keep after this, understood.” He stated and then was gone just like that.
Now that the oppressive feeling of death and power has left along with the godly being, every single one of the heroes present turned to the two for explanation. Marvel send a pleading look towards his brother, but John pointedly turned away and began to nurse his briefly forgotten drink which was now empty, damn you dad.
Discreetly gulping his nerves down he twirled to face his peers.
“Okay, let’s start with one question at a time please.”
This caused the floodgates to open and Zatara practically jumped him in his feverishness.
“You are a son of King Phantom? The King Phantom? I thought he was nothing more than a myth! A legend told through out several histories!”
As Marvel was trying to dislodge the man he was approached by Doctor Fate.
“I too held the believe that he was nothing more than a story to strike fear onto the forces of evil and to aspire heroes of both old and new. To think he was real this entire time.” He mused, and before Marvel could say anything, Flash barged in as well.
“And what about you John? This might be the first time I’ve seen any otherworldly being be happy to see you.” He pointed at the man who chose to wisely stay far behind.
“Fuck you too!” Shouts the offended man from the back. Even if it’s true doesn’t make it any less rude. And oh look here comes Batman.
“Enough! Marvel, explain.” He demands as he moves effortlessly to the front of the pack.
“Well… you see-” Marvel stammers as he tries under the pressure to come up with something to say but was thankfully saved by the sky shifting again.
As quick as a snap the red sky was returned to its blue color, signaling the King’s victory over his enemy. Marvel smiled widely and even John couldn’t stop a heavy sigh of relieve from escaping his mouth. Good old dad, always up to any task he comes across.
“Incredible.” Wonder Woman gasped, even Lantern had to give an impressed eyebrow at the instant change in atmosphere. And while everyone was distracted by his dad’s handiwork, Marvel shimmied his way to the grumpy magician who was in progress of making his getaway.
“I think we should continue this some other time, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do and me and my bro need to do a little house call. So bye!” He called out with a wave as he was crabbed and transported to their destination before anyone could stop them.
Others could do more than blink as Batman stewed in his place. In Lantern’s arms Superman began to stir.
“H-huh, what did I miss?”
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corvennite · 3 months
Text
— 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙.
ˡᵉᵒⁿ ᵏᵉⁿⁿᵉᵈʸ ˣ ᶠᵉᵐ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
cw: dry humping, make out session, lightly submissive leon, fingering, hair pull, chocking, biting, marking, spitting, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (be safe).
sinopse: he just wants a taste of his pretty girlfriend.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
To be with Leon it meant you had to make the best of your time together, he was always sent away on some stupid mission which left you there: alone and sad waiting for your pretty boyfriend. He arrived at the beginning of the week, you couldn't keep your hands to yourself not even when the poor man only needed a rest.
Well, it was basically the same for him too.
Sitting on his lap, the movie on TV with screams of agony and bloody scenes — horror at its finest, which you choose to cuddle up with, to have an excuse to be cradled in his strong arms when scared. Leon's hands were down to your bottom barely covered by the oversized shirt he gave to you, his lips crashed down to yours god knew for how long, hips sometimes squirming by the way you moved against his.
"you're so needy, hm..." you murmured against his lips, smiling while he whined against your mouth again.
"and you— fuck, you're a tease."
The good thing about him being away for too long, it was how touch starved he became. How needy and messy Leon could be. You could feel him hardening underneath you, his eyes fluttering when he pulled a bit away and kissed down your cheek, jawline, side of your neck and collarbones. He made a mess against your skin, a little bit under the ear lobe as he tucked in between his teeth and bit it down, slowly putting his lips to work on it too.
His fingers moved back up, to your wrist when you tried to grab his hair, trying to pull him away. Your eyes narrowed as his breath tickled softly over the sensitive part of your neck, he pressed the hand on your hips further digging the short nails against it.
"stop moving." he hissed, his lips coming back all the way up, stopping on your jawline. "open your mouth."
"or what?" of course you had to be a little bit of a brat, smiling at him and biting down your lip.
Leon on the other hand, chuckled a bit and when you realized, his hand was up on your neck pressing the fingers firmly and lightly against your pulse. The way he tilted your head side to side, looking into your eyes made you shiver, legs clenching a little and oh boy, he could feel it!
"open."
You did as he said, not earning even a 'good girl' from him but a bit of his spit inside your tongue. It was messy, he smiled looking at you, his thumb moving towards your lips and smudging it all while your eyes looked at him in admiration. Leon moved his fingers from your ass to your inner thigh, grazing softly and teasing only with the tips. His eyes moved from your mouth to your neck, he made sure to give you a few more marks under your shoulder blades, up to your neck and kiss behind your ear. It was fun, how responsive you could be, hips squirming softly even if you tried to hold it when he moved his digits in and out your thighs, how he ghosted his thumb against your covered clit. He made sure to cover your core with his whole hand, it fit.
"you're so wet, jesus." he said feeling his own cheeks flush a little, your pleasure meant a lot to him. "c'mon baby..."
With ease, Leon moved your panties to the side and adjusted you on his lap where you were impossibly closer to him. Your covered breasts near his face now, his legs more spread as he caressed your cunt with his fingers, gosh, they were so thick and long, he had such a pretty hand... Your mind wandered too much, moaning in a low tone with his tease and holding his shoulders, hands going towards his neck as you moved your right one to the edge of his short undercut.
"L-Leon, just... Fuck, just put them inside." you hissed, biting down your lower lip as his thumb made you even more sensitive.
"you're just so pretty like this."
He kept looking at you, the way you moaned and your hips moved up a little bit while feeling the whole pleasure. Leon plugged two fingers inside you, which caused you to moan and tilt your head back. His movements were soft at first, listening to the way you whined and squirmed around them, clenching too.
"shh, it's okay, you can take two... It's nothing for you." he taunted, pumping the digits in and out so damn slowly.
The way your back arched softly, how beautiful you looked riding his fingers only for him to brush the thumb against your clit. Sore and almost too sensitive, making you gasp and bite down your lower lip. Leon loved the way your body answered to his ministrations, how he leaned down to nip against your neck and leave a mark you surely would complain if looked at the mirror and noticed. He owned you. Your fingers grasped around his wrists, he forced his hand more and curled the tip of his fingers inside your cunt, gushing around him making soft noises.
“fuck you– I can’t.” you moaned, erupting as he thrusted deeper.
“hm?” he taunted.
The way your eyes narrowed and squinted when he moved only a bit deeper, how your hips buckled against his fingers and the grip on his wrists tightened up, he smiled. He loved to see how you came so beautifully around his fingers, how much of a flushed mess you could become only by that, not even ten minutes past!
Your breathing was a bit heavy, a good feeling of peace took over you as you came down making you close your eyes. Only the sound of a belt being unbuckled got to your ears, narrowed eyelids observing the way the blonde got barely rid of his pants and boxers. God, he was deliciously thick, one vein popping up and the tip red with pre cum.
“fuck, I need this pussy…” he muttered, pulling you by the hips, gripping tight.
“and I need this dick– fuck…”
His head slid inside so easily, he felt the way you clenched around him and it made the poor man flush around the cheeks. Leon sank down your cunt, seeing the way your legs bent over your chest a bit, how you wanted him by the way your soft fingers pulled him by the waist.
“eyes up here, baby.” you muttered in between a moan, making him look up.
Leon grabbed your waist, thumbs and fingers digging deep into your skin as he thrusted, so damn sensitive each movement made him moan and god, his moans were divine to hear. So whiny and needy, you loved such sounds. His hips moved slowly at first, he felt like he was crumbling and the way you clenched around him did no good for his mind.
“hm? can’t take a girl anymore?” teasing, you buckled your hips against his cock, moaning.
“s–shut up, you’re fuckin’ squeezing me.”
A part of you wanted to laugh, but it was a bit late when he got the rhythm and his hands were like a vice to your skin. His head tilted backwards as he fucked like a needy man because that’s what he was, skin slapping against each other filling the apartment with filthy sounds besides your pretty moans and his grunts. Leon looked down at you, blue eyes going dark as he moved his hand to your throat and wrapped around it, leaning down putting you in a matting press, lips closer to yours as he seemed so damn hungry.
“fuckin beautiful, you’re fucking– beautiful.” he grunted at each thrust.
Leon saw stars when you wrapped your legs around him, his waist being pulled down and making your neck get more squeezed than ever. He kissed down your swollen lips and bit it down, he couldn’t care less for the mess you both were making, how it was so slickly in between your thighs and how he was losing control over himself. He didn’t even warned you when he desperately pulled out, pumping himself and groaning as he came on your belly, soft fingers loosening on your neck and moving to caress your hips and waist. You looked up at him, glazed and with a smirk.
“already?”
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