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slushycoookie · 2 months

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Kissing Practice ~ Miguel O'Hara × Spider AFAB! Reader +18!!

A/N: Had this short idea late at night so enjoy this little somn somn. ALSO, thank you for the 100 followers!!! I'm happy you all really like my stuff. <3 (Ignore the format, I'm trying out different stuff).

Miguel froze, staring at you as the question you asked him replayed in his mind.

You wanted to practice kissing…on him. Out of all those days he spent pining on you, admiring you from afar, you go ahead and ask him this. He couldn’t believe it. He must be dreaming.

“I’m sorry…repeat that again.” He asked you, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

You rolled your eyes. “You heard me. I want you to help me practice kissing. For a guy I like.”

His shoulders deflated at that last sentence. Of course you weren’t asking to kiss him because you liked him. It was for someone else you liked. Not him.

“Why are you asking me?” He turned his back to you, pretending to go back to work and not be bothered by the pang in his chest.

“Because you’re my friend.” You maneuvered to get a good look at him, not wanting to be shut out. “And friends help each other with stuff.”

Miguel scoffed, the sound almost turning into a laugh. “Friends don’t ask other friends if they could practice kissing one another.”

“Not true.” You retorted, putting up a finger for emphasis, “Teenagers ask their friends all the time to help practice kissing.”

“We’re adults. Not teenagers.”

“I know. That means we’ll be more mature about it.”

His muscles tensed in slight annoyance. Your logic was terrible and didn’t make any sense at all. After all, why were you asking him out of all people? There were plenty of other spider people around your age you could run to. So why him?

As the lab was silent, you peered your face around to meet his eyes. “Come on. I wouldn’t ask anyone else.” He felt his shoulder getting poked by your finger. “I always think I don’t kiss that well. And I wanna get better at that. You seem like you have some experience…”

Miguel shut his eyes as he thought for a moment. This would get really bad fast if he didn't have any self-control. He always pictured kissing you, just not in these circumstances. But you were asking him. And you two were great friends. That’s exactly what he was doing. Helping out a friend.

“Fine.” His heart flipped at your squeal with joy, “Let’s do it now.”

You stopped at that, looking around as if anyone else heard him. “Right now?” He nodded. You weren’t expecting that response. Or for him to say yes. So you dug into the pocket of your spider suit, digging for something you said was very important. Your lip balm. The same one he’s watched you put on many times. How the red-colored product glided along your full lips. Adding a red tint to them. He had to resist staring at you directly, folding his arms as you smacked your lips.

“Okay. I’m ready.” You stood close to him, a small smile on your face. Your eyes were closed, lips puckered up and ready for a kiss. He stepped closer. Ignoring how the soft feeling of your body was against his. Miguel licked his dry lips before leaning down and pressing a small peck on your own. Hints of strawberry lingered around his nose while you blinked in question.

“Really? That’s it?”

“Yes. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

You sucked your teeth, “I said kiss, Miguel. Full on lip action. Not a little baby kiss.”

“That was a peck. Not a baby kiss.” He argued back, running his hand across his face.

“You heard what I said right? How am I going to learn from a peck?”

Miguel shook his head, stepping back into your space and placing a firm hand on your lower back. You were fully flushed against him as his other hand cradled your cheek. He leaned in and kissed you like you wanted. It was slow and gentle as he wanted to savor how you felt against his own lips. Kissing you like this was like the last time he was able to.

When he pulled away, your face was flushed. The red tint from your lip balm was a little faded, he was sure there was some on his lips. But he wanted to kiss you again.

“H-How was that?” You asked after clearing your throat.

Miguel shrugged, “You could be better.” Inside, you did perfectly. He didn’t understand why you needed practice in the first place. “We should keep practicing so you can get better.”

“Okay.” You nodded in agreement, “How does tomorrow sound?”

He had to hold himself back from smiling, “Tomorrow sounds great.”

Everyday he set some time for you to come into his lab and kiss him. It was only for ten minutes. Ten minutes of holding you close, enjoying your soft lips against his own. And then pulling away as if nothing happened.

There were times when you wanted to switch it up. Add tongue or a bite on the lip. Miguel was happy to oblige as you allowed his tongue to slip in, gliding along your own with fervor. Giving a gentle nip to your bottom lip whenever he pulled away. He took note of the sounds you made each time you kissed. And there were times he got carried away, his groans mixing in with your moans. And it took all the strength he had to not take it further. Because this was for someone else you liked.

“What about during sex?”

He almost choked on his cold coffee, “What? What do you mean?”

“You know, kissing during sex? I was never good at that either.”

Miguel’s talons were digging into the console. You weren’t suggesting…?

“You want to kiss during sex?” You nodded quickly and he took a deep breath. “That’s not…You should ask somebody else…”

You waved him away, “It’s just kissing during sex. No big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal.” He was over you again, chest heaving. But Miguel wasn’t angry. The complete opposite. He was making sure that you really wanted to do that with him. Be completely intimate. You didn’t back down, taking this entire conversation casually.

“There’s no one I’d rather do it with.”

Miguel’s lips rarely left yours. Not as he peeled your clothes away from you at his apartment. Placing you on the bed as if you were delicate. Even as he thrusted into you. Feeling your walls stretch around him as he kissed you with infatuation. He took everything from you. Your pleasant cries drowned against his embrace. He was determined to show you that the person you did like should be doing this to you. Not anyone else. Not even him.

He was emotional as he sat on the end of his bed. Miguel knew you all shouldn’t do this again. Especially after you tell this guy that you like him. He wondered who it could be. Who stole your heart before he could?

You shifted against him; eyes lowered in satisfaction. He stared at you as if you were in a dream. Someone he couldn’t get enough of.

“Miguel?” He hummed when you called, wondering what you needed. “You’re the guy I like.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #slushycoookie writes

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moonstruckme · 3 months

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perhaps whimsical!reader x one of the marauders (you choose) who’s being made fun of but doesn’t realize it? And they defend you or talk to you or something?

Thanks for requesting <3

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 745 words

Remus watches as your eyes drift out the window beside his couch.

“I think you’d like it,” James continues, unaware that he’s lost your attention as he tells you about the shop he’d gone to with Mary the day before. “They’ve got incense and crystals, all that stuff.”

When you don’t react, Remus nudges your leg with his.

You look at him. “Hm?”

“That does sound like someplace you’d like,” he tries to clue you in, “doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yes.” You give James a breezy smile. He returns it with ease, not a lick of pique about him. “Thank you, James, I’ll have to go. Where is it?”

James’ thick eyebrows come together. “You know, I’m not actually sure. Mary led the way there and I just sort of followed, but I want to say it was on fourth.”

You nod, and Remus smiles at your obvious expertise on the matter. He doubts there’s a shop of that kind that you haven’t been to, but you’re humoring James just to be kind. “Right, there’s a string of them on fourth street. Maybe I can ask Mary sometime and see if—oh, the fawn is standing up!”

You grab Remus’ hand excitedly, turning in your seat to get a better view out the window. Your eyes are very nearly heart-shaped as you coo over the baby deer wobbling to its feet a few yards from Remus’ home. “Oh my goodness, it’s so precious. Do you guys see it?”

Remus shoots James an apologetic look, but his friend smiles and shrugs it off, coming to lean over the couch beside you.

“It is really cute,” he agrees.

Sirius laughs. “You’ve really got yourself a goldfish, haven’t you Moony?” You don’t pay him any mind, but Remus regards him quizzically. “She can’t seem to talk to anyone for more than two seconds before she’s distracted by something shiny.”

Now, you turn, your head tilting like a puppy’s. “It’s not shiny, Sirius, it’s a fawn. Do you want to come see?”

“It’s a figure of speech, love.”

“Pads.” Remus’ voice is hard. “Don’t.”

Your brows pucker at your boyfriend’s tone. “Remus,” you sound almost hurt, “what’s wrong?”

He wraps a protective hand around your thigh, but James speaks before he can.

“It’s nothing,” he says cheerily. His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re always squabbling like this, they’re like an old married couple. Best to do as I do and stay out of it.”

“Oh, please,” Sirius guffaws. “Like you’ve ever stayed out of anything in your life.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” James says. Remus relaxes as the beginnings of a bemused smile touches your lips. “I don’t partake in any such childish quarreling.”

It’s only after his friends leave and Remus is cleaning up his kitchen from all the snacks they’d left strewn about, that he says quietly, “Don’t mind Sirius, dove. His sense of humor can be mean, but he wouldn’t tease you if he didn’t like you.”

You pause sweeping up the floor, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean? I thought they were both really nice.”

“They are,” he says, “but I just want to make sure you understand that when Sirius was making fun of you, he didn’t really mean anything by it.”

“He was making fun of me?”

Remus swears he feels his heart fall right out his ass.

“Yes, sweetheart, but like I said, he was only teasing.” He gives you a small smile, but at your puzzled look, reluctantly clarifies, “You remember when he said you were a goldfish?”

You nod.

“That was it, dove. That was the joke.”

“Oh.” You smile funnily, one side of your mouth quirking up more than the other. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I’d love to be a goldfish.”

A little laugh startles out of Remus. “Really?” he asks.

You nod happily, resuming your sweeping. “They can see more colors than humans, did you know? And they’re really very pretty.”

It’s all Remus can do to keep from crossing the kitchen to squish you in a hug. He’s grinning ear-to-ear. “Well,” he says, trying to match your serene tone, “then it suits you, dove.”

“I think so,” you say lightly. “You should be a goldfish too, Remus. Or actually, I think I see you more as a seahorse. We could both be seahorses, if you like.”

“Don’t seahorses mate for life?”

“Mhm. Suits us, don’t you think?”

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sunshinesteviee · 6 months

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quality time - s.h.

summary: steve has some quality time with his newborn wc: 1.1k warnings: descriptions of steve's scars, dad!steve & mom!reader a/n: so i'm pretty sure this was originally a request from an anon literally forever ago, but i cannot for the life of me find the ask, i'm so so sorry! it's been a while since i've posted, so just a lil something for y'all. hope you enjoy! <3

Masterlist

“You wanna hold him again, love?” you ask your husband in a murmur, barely able to pull your gaze up from your newborn. He’s tiny and perfect, and you just can’t get enough of him, even after a couple of hours.

Steve’s perched next to you on the bed, one strong arm around your body. His thumb traces short, gentle lines over the hill of your shoulder, nose pressing against your temple as he gazes down at your son, “Mhm, yeah, if—“

“You better not be saying ‘if it’s okay with me’, he’s your son, too, Steve. Here, you take him,” you elbow him gently, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. It’s adorable, but totally not necessary.

His cheeks flame red as he carefully takes the bundle of blankets from you, sheepish as he mumbles, “That’s not what I was gonna say—“

“Save it, baby, I know you better than that.”

He huffs but doesn’t say anything, immediately drawn to his baby boy in his arms instead. He looks like a mini version of you, your nose and eyes that he loves so much; it makes his heart grow ten times bigger. He does have a full head of hair that’s definitely the Harrington gene, though. And maybe he has Steve’s lips, too.

Steve pulls his arms up, pressing a kiss to his head gently before he moves towards the chair in the corner of the room that he’s claimed as his. Just as he’s about to settle into the chair, a nurse enters the room to check on everyone. She smiles at the sight of your baby boy in Steve’s arms and says, “You know, there’s a lot of benefits of doing skin-to-skin with your newborn. Especially for dad and baby. Helps to regulate baby, and is great for bonding with your baby. Wanna give it a try?”

You expect Steve to say no. Not that he doesn’t care or doesn’t want to, but you can count the number of times you’ve seen him with his shirt off in public on one hand. After his time in the upside down, he’s marred with scars. Deep ones that eat into his sides and pucker his skin, that are rough and not pleasant to look at. The first time he’d gotten up the courage to take off his shirt at the pool, scars still fresh and pink, he’d gotten incredulous looks and nasty stares. He’d quickly learned that it was better to keep his clothes on to keep the questions to a minimum. He wasn’t ashamed, it was just easier that way. The only times Steve took his shirt off in public was if it was around people who knew what had happened, and even then, sometimes he didn’t want to. The scars were a reminder of all the shit they’d been through, and sometimes it was easier to pretend they didn’t exist.

So, to say you’re surprised when Steve immediately agrees is an understatement. You watch in shock — and admiration — as Steve hands your son back to you for a moment so he can pull his shirt over his head. In fact, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him remove his shirt so quickly, even after all your years together. The bite-shaped scars, though not as prominent as they once were, are on full display, still slightly pink and raised against his tan skin. If the nurse notices, she doesn’t say anything; she only smiles, suppressing a laugh as Steve trades you his shirt for your son.

He takes him carefully, as if your son is made of glass and could break at any moment. He handles him so delicately it makes your heart burst, and you cradle Steve’s shirt to your own chest. Steve finally sits down, placing his little boy in his lap so he can unwrap the blankets and get him out of his tiny onesie. It’s so small that it nearly makes you cry, even more so as you watch your husband lift your son back up and lay him against his chest once the onesie has been set aside.

He pauses for a moment, not quite comfortable in the chair yet, eyes flicking to the nurse in the corner of the room as he asks, “It’s not— he’s not gonna be too cold, right?”

“Not at all! Skin to skin is actually great for regulating a baby’s body temperature. He’ll be just fine.”

Steve considers what she’s saying and then nods, finally leaning back into his chair, holding your boy to his chest, “Yeah. Okay, yeah, that’s good.” For someone who had been almost as terrified about being a dad as he was excited, he’s taking to it quickly, just like you knew he would. You knew his insecurities had more to do with his parents than his own ability to be a parent, and so far, he’s already proving himself wrong.

The newborn scrunch is in full effect, your son’s tiny limbs tucked mostly underneath his body against Steve’s chest. He looks content, and you honestly can’t blame him — Steve’s chest is also one of your favorite places to be. Your husband looks just as content; one hand covering the entirety of your son’s back, fingers behind his head for support, the other hand on his small, diaper-covered bum to keep him in place. Steve’s eyes flutter closed after a few moments, settling back into the chair comfortably.

There’s a Polaroid camera sitting on the bedside table next to you, and you reach for it so you can take a picture. You want to remember this. Not only for the sweet moment, but also for Steve’s clear and immediate love for his little boy. The noise of the camera is a lot louder than you anticipated, and Steve cracks one eye open, sending you the best fake glare he can muster with just one eye. It’s ridiculous and it makes you laugh behind your hand, not wanting to wake your sleeping baby. You murmur a half-hearted apology as the picture prints, not really meaning it.

Steve snorts his own laugh, his chest moving enough for your little boy to grunt quietly in protest, shifting his position against Steve. Quick to soothe, Steve pats at his tiny back gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I know, I know, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mama’s interrupting our quality time, huh? She had nine whole months with you, and she just has to interrupt us.”

“Steve,” you giggle, shaking your head as you hold up the now developed picture, “I was trying to capture the moment!”

“Shhh, we’re bonding!”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #sunshinesteviee #sunshinesteviee writing

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7brownsuga7 · 6 months

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Ghostface killer

Kinktober 👻

Jungkook x reader

Ghost face killer pt.2 here

Word count: 1k +

Genre: short drabble, smut - minors DNI

Summary: Dominant Jungkook fucks you at a Halloween party in his ghostface costume.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, praise kink, spanking, orgasm denial

Note: been a while since I wrote some smut. Literally wrote this straight after I got ghosted and then blocked & was done being a dramatic mess lmfaooo. Anyways enjoy :) and stream 3D <3

Dominant Jungkook fucking you in his ghostface outfit while you’re bent over the sink taking his cock like the good girl you are.

You’re a stuttering mess, not just because you can feel him hitting your stomach with each hard stroke, but because you can see both of your reflections in the mirror, and how wicked is the sight, given that it is Halloween night, you both fit right up to the part, especially Jungkook who has a firm hold on your neck, his ghostface mask discarded, sitting on top of his head so you can see his lips between his teeth, loud grunts escaping them with each thrust.

“Baby baby please oh my god”. The grip you have on the sink makes no difference in supporting you when your legs become a quivering, weak mess. Jungkook uses his free arm to keep you up as your pussy clenches around his cock.

His hand leaves your neck, moving down to your pussy to rub you through your mini orgasm. He watches you with low eyes as you moan his name. He loves watching you from his position, how you’re always ready to take him and how submissive you are. The way his name rolls off your tongue is enough to send him straight to his orgasm, but he doesn’t want this to end so quickly.

You’re not surprised Jungkook has managed to make you cum so quickly, and you’re definitely not surprised when he shows you no mercy.

“Nuh uh I ain’t even done yet”. You watch him through the mirror. His eyes dark as they trail down your bare spine to your ass.

His pace slowens a bit before he harshly thrusts into you, knocking any air out of your lungs. He holds his position while his cock is balls deep inside of you. Your breath is caught in your throat as you adjust to this new pressure.

His hand moves to your neck again softly caressing it as his deep voice coos in your ear,“Breathe y/n”

You finally release a breath and shudder at the same time, you’re sure you can already feel another orgasm coming.

“Well done baby, you’re doing such a good job taking me” his thumb enters your plump lips and you immediately suck on it as you moan. “Good girl”.

He watches you in the mirror, your eyebrows furrowed as you adjust to his full length, bottom lip puckered as you softly suck on his thumb, a truly great sight for him.

With no warning he begins again at a slow pace which shorty quickens enough for you to be stumbling on your feet over the sink again. He grabs you by your face pulling you up so that your back is up against his torso. He harshly kisses you while mumbles, “fuck baby, you’re so good for me”

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are watery from the unbearable pleasure you’re feeling and the slight pressure that was on your neck. Your makeup is smudged from the sweat and the way Jungkook held your face with his hand. Your breasts are spilling out of your bra and your stockings already have your juices running down onto them. Your whole costume may as well be discarded.

The background consists of loud music and murmured voices from the party. But the people are the least of your worries, you’re worrying about how you’re going to survive the night with Jungkook, or in this case ghostface because you’re sure he is trying to kill you when he lifts your leg up so he can get better access to your entrance.

You’re not sure what’s taken over Jungkook tonight, whether it’s the ghost face costume or the slight tension that’s been lingering between you two for the past week, but the way he’s ramming into you with your leg resting on the counter, pussy open for him, has you loving this.

Your juices coat his cock and his and your skin connect with each stroke. He feels your pussy clenching around him after each movement, both hands around your neck as he roughly enters you with a grunt.

“J-Jungkook p-please” you choke out a whimper, feeling him stretch out your walls. The sound of your wetness mixed with his pelvis connect with your ass is enough to send you over the edge.

“Hmm yeah. Take this dick baby” he grabs your face and turns it again so he can kiss you. “Jungkook I can’t I’m gonna cum” your words are muffled by his sloppy kiss.

“Nah I’m not done with you” he chuckles almost devilishly.

“P-please Jungkook I- I I’m gonna” you can’t even finish your sentence you’re so fucked out.

You hear him chuckle behind you at your state.“You ain’t coming till I say so princess”

You moan both in pleasure and annoyance. You’re growing tired and your pussy is definitely going to be sore in the morning. You take your leg from off of the counter.

“Just hold on baby. Can you do that for me yeah?”

You don’t answer him which earns a smack to your ass. You yelp looking back at him in surprise.

“I asked you a question” his eyebrow is raised. You can barely form a sentence let alone answer his questions.

“Yes yes just please” you moan out for him as both of his hands grab your waist, guiding you to his desired pace. Your ass continues to hit his pelvis, causing there to be a slight ricochet that makes him bite his lip at the sight.

“Fuck baby, just like that” he grunts when you circle your hips on his length.

“Baby please I’m gonna cum” your legs are closed as much as you can close them, you’re trying your hardest to prolongue your orgasm but the way his strokes are so intense really makes it hard for you.

He lets his tip rest just in the entrance of your pussy before slamming into you.

“Shh, I’m almost there princess. Just hold on a bit more” his hand caresses your cheek.

You cry out in pleasure, it becoming to unbearable for you to handle. You clench your pussy to try and stop your orgasm from coming but that only makes you grip on his dick which earns another slap to your ass.

“Fuck, this pussy’s so wet just for me” he admires how your juices cover his cock.

When he doesn’t hear anything from you other than your moans and heavy breathing, he gives you another slap to your ass. “Tell me”.

“Ugh this pussy’s just for you Jungkook, fuck”

“Hmm that’s right, say my name again” he can feel his orgasm approaching and the sound of your needy voice is enough to quicken the process.

“Please Jungkook”. You whimper to his desire.

“Hmmmm” he grunts and that’s enough to send you over the edge. You tried your best.

“Oh my god. Fuck Kook please” your eyes are tightly shut and your legs are a quivering mess as you cum undone all over his length. Your wetness trickles down your legs, your body slumping over the sink as you go weak, limp.

A few more thrusts and Jungkook is shortly following you. “Fuuuuuck”. His body hunches over yours as he gently hugs you from behind, his nut filling you up. You feel the warmth inside of you which makes you hum in content.

He rests inside you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, both exhausted and a mess. He sends small kisses on the back of your neck, whispering, “Happy Halloween baby”.

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disneyprincemuke · 2 months

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the overachiever * fem!driver

she's just a little competitive, that's all

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver

notes: YAUUUR i'm back with em femdriver updates dawg

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

oscar leans to the side as he avoids the ball hurled at him at seemingly an alarming rate — could have possibly taken his head off if he hadn’t moved fast enough — then turns back to the pair on the other side of the court. “oi!”

“loser!” she pumps her fist in the air and hops over to her teammate on her side of the court, hand lifted for a high-5. “do better.”

oscar rests a hand on his hip, chest heaving as he whirls around to where the ball had bounced to. “this was supposed to be a chill game. what is your problem?”

liam laughs, clutching his stomach as he threw his head back. he catches the girl’s hand and nods. “sore losers, aren’t they?”

“isn’t this your first time playing padel?” logan scowls. “how are you already so good at it?”

she shrugs as she puts her racket between her legs, readjusting her ponytail. “you know i can’t stand when i’m bad at things. of course, i prepared myself for today.”

when oscar had invited them out for a game of padel, he had expected it to be a first out of many short games. what nobody had expected, though, is for the girl — who claimed to know nothing of the sport just a week ago — to be absolutely dominating them on the court.

there is a reason they hadn’t invited the rest of their friends or anyone else from the grid. they just wanted to slowly take their time to learn the ropes of the game so that when the season goes underway, they don’t embarrass themselves when they get invited to games by other drivers.

but of course, the overachiever did her research and is already excelling to a certain extent. it’s just something they’d had to endure over the years: her in-explainable need to be good at everything immediately. if she’s not good at it from the get-go, she loses interest quickly.

“how? how could you have possibly prepared yourself for a game of padel? you didn’t even have a racket until 3 days ago,” logan scolds, throwing his arms in the air as the frustration slowly gets to him. there’s just something about her beating him in absolutely everything that’s sort of absurd. “i was literally with you when we went to get your stupid racket!”

“there’s this thing called youtube?” she hums with an eyebrow raised with the roll of her eyes. “and i asked fernando for some tips. so i’m kind of… like… a pro.”

“doesn’t make you a pro,” oscar scowls with a frown as he shakes his head. “makes you a bit of a nerd, though.”

“well i am graduating with a degree in information technology in a couple of months. so, perhaps, i could be a nerd,” she hums, with a giddy grin, “at least if the whole racing thing doesn’t work out… i have a way out. unlike you dropouts!”

“a woman in stem!” liam cheers. “if you graduate first class, i’ll buy you a car. what’s your current grades?”

she presses her lips together, nodding as she tries to formulate a plan for her education. “if i study harder for my final exam in a week, i could make that happen. i’m a pretty solid b grade student.”

“i meant a toy car, you freak,” liam frowns, scowling at her. “you think i’m getting paid loads as a reserve driver?”

“i overheard the team discussing you the other afternoon. who knows? we very well may be teammates next year.”

“i sure hope not,” logan butts in with a snort. “that wouldn’t do anyone any good — two idiots in the same team.”

she tilts her head, blinking innocently at him. “what do you mean? williams seems to be doing great with that kind of lineup this year.”

logan clenches his jaw, puckering his lips as he looks at her. “okay.”

“enough fighting,” oscar rolls his eyes. “ready to lose again, logan?”

the american sighs. “yeah, i guess.”

“god, don’t you know what a demonstration means?” max clutches his stomach, hunching over as the pain shoots through his torso. he watches the ball slowly bounce on the ground, right after hitting him in the stomach.

beside her, penelope giggles as she approaches max in concern. “are you okay, maxie?”

max shakes his head, glancing at the young child before dropping to his knees as he groans. “no, p. she bullied me!”

“she’s so strong!” penelope cheers, hopping over to the older girl with a screechy giggle. “but you should say sorry, maybe!”

“you’re right,” she grins, patting penelope on the head. “i’m sorry, max.” she leans down to max’s ear out of penelope’s hearing range. “that you got outplayed by a girl.”

max lifts his head to glare at her. they were just teaching penelope how to play football, the older girl describing earlier how to score effectively after she expressed interest in the sport. when she was asked to demonstrate the move, max didn’t expect her to kick the ball so hard.

“i knew that was coming. you’re so harsh!”

he was expecting a semi-strong kick to his stomach — something that he could catch and bear before they continued their small game of football. but no, she kicked the ball as hard as she could and almost incapacitated him.

though, perhaps incapacitated is too strong of a word. but he still does feel it in his gut, stumbling back in confusion when the ball came into contact with him.

can he really blame her, though? he sort of gets it: the need to be good at everything to please people. maybe it’s the eldest sibling trait.

“i was in varsity when i was in primary school,” she presses her lips together with a small smile. she holds her arms out to the younger girl and gestures towards her parent’s house. “i could get blythe to make us orange juice, p. do you want some?”

she sighs and drops her hands. “you can do better than that.”

logan drops his stance, his hands resting by the side of his body. “what do you mean? i don’t want to hit you so hard.”

“why? it’s not our first time sparring,” she scowls, wiping the side of her face on the sleeve of her shirt. she lifts her hands again, inside a pair of boxing gloves, and protects her face. “come on. hit me like you mean it.”

“i’m not going to hit you,” logan mutters. “we’re just warming up until benny and noah get here, right? that’s what you said.”

“yeah, but,” she darts a hand out, barely missing logan’s face when he leans back to avoid her punch, “i want a real challenge before they get here. come on, logan.”

but logan doesn’t fight back. instead, he takes several steps back when she tries to approach him, both arms darting out in an attempt to rile him up into a real spar.

“stop trying. i’m not doing this with you,” logan sighs, touching gloves with her everytime she tries to reach forward for him. “i know you were in martial arts growing up too, but i wasn’t. i’m just here because you asked me to be here.”

she grins. “exactly. so, fight back. don’t be a coward.”

“you’re not going to rile me up into a fight. i’m not you.”

“it works sometimes.” she dips down slightly and throws a punch into his stomach, prompting a huff as it hits him. “hit me back.”

“no way. stop asking me to do that.”

“coward.”

“okay.”

she touches his thigh with her feet, the taller boy stumbling slightly. “you’re just gonna let me do that to you? do something.”

“you’re not gonna get anything out of him.” a familiar voice makes both of you turn your head towards the door, benny walking in with a small smile and a gym bag over his shoulder. “very patient, this guy.”

“you clearly did not live in the same house as him for years,” she laughs, running over with her arms opens to get a hug. “will you spar with me until noah gets here? logan is so boring — he never hits me back.”

“hey!”

“sure! but you can’t cry when you lose.”

“maybe.”

sebastian tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “are you sure go-karting is what you wanna do over summer break? don’t you have other things to do?”

“we’ve done everything she wants to do,” oscar says begrudgingly as he puts his helmet on. “she cried this morning saying she misses racing.”

logan also looks tiredly at sebastian, shaking his head as he takes his helmet out of his bag. “i woke up to her sleeping on the couch hugging her helmet, by the way.”

the girl scoffs, punching logan’s arm as he unveils a secret he was sworn to never say to anybody else just this afternoon. “no, i was not!”

“ah, don’t be so shy about it,” sebastian smiles. “i also felt like that in my rookie year. all i could think of was being out on the track.”

“i guess i could study for my exams.” she exchanges glances with the 3 men around her before shrugging. “oh, well. time to race and beat your asses.”

“oh? you think you could be a 4-time world champion?” sebastian raises his eyebrows. “i’d like to see you try.”

“you clearly haven’t met me,” she hums, stopping in her track to turn around and face sebastian. she holds a hand out between them. “hi, i’m the most competitive girl you’ll ever meet. and i will beat you at go-karting today.”

while that doesn’t actually happen that evening, sebastian laughed as he climbed out of his go-kart at the end of their 10-minute race. she swears to him that someday she will be good enough to beat him in equal machinery (a go-kart).

which oscar begs to argue that she’s simply overdramatising the situation. but she just knows it’ll happen eventually.

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @nikfigueiredo @namgification @happy-nico @darleneslane @localwhoore @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @inejismywife @love4lando

#logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x reader #liam lawson x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

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floralcyanide · 8 months

Text

𝟑𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐧𝐞𝐫

jackson rippner x f!reader

Usually, airports were the bane of your existence due to your career and the constant requirement to travel. But when you stumble upon a handsome man at the airport bar, your disdain for flying seems to change.

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, public sex, mile-high shenanigans

word count: 2780

author’s note: not proofread again lulz but when do I ever?? anyway I got a request for this and had to write it right away because I love jackson sm omg. please lmk if you enjoyed and send some feedback <3

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

You wouldn’t mind it if you didn’t have to step foot inside another airport for the rest of your life.

Unfortunately, your career requires you to travel every month, so your escape from airports will have to wait. You doubt there’s anything that will make your experiences with the liminal spaces any brighter or more profound- you doubt there’s anything that would make them even a smidge exciting. But, who knows, maybe one day you’ll eat your words. So, until then, you’ll fast-walk through airports and terminals with your carry-on with the deepest resting bitch face you can conjure up. And it appears that today will be yet another day that you muster up one.

Deciding to hit the best bar in the DFW airport during your routine TSA spiel, you weave around the other flyers in the corridors in a hurry. Even if your red eye flight has been delayed about two hours, you figure two hours in an airport could be better spent drinking. After scouring the entire airport numerous times on each trip you’ve taken from DFW, you finally settled upon a corner bar near your gate. After passing by it a few times, you decided to give it a chance. Its appearance is initially off-putting- it is dark and moody. Still, it had an oddly comfortable atmosphere and good drinks, obviously. You stroll up to the bar, smiling and nodding to the bartender you’ve come to know here. Going to sit in your usual booth, you discover there’s someone already seated there.

“If this were middle school, I’d tell you this is my spot,” you joke as you approach the man, whose face is covered by his long bangs.

A pair of sharp blue eyes glance up at you from their place on the cocktail menu in his large hands, and a sweet smile graces his lips when he looks you over, “I certainly apologize for stealing your spot. Care to join me? I can buy you a drink to make up for it.”

You give him a questioning look, half-joking with your tone, “What’s in it for me?”

“A free drink and your spot back,” the man says haughtily, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Deal,” you reach a hand out for him to shake.

“Deal,” the man says, accepting your hand and shaking it firmly.

You slide into the booth, sizing the man up, “What’s your name?”

“Jackson,” the man says, his eyes nearly piercings into yours, “Jackson Rippner.”

“Oh,” you raise your eyebrows, suppressing a giggle, “your parents must hate you.”

Jackson laughs, shrugging, “Yeah, you could say that. But you can’t hate anyone if you’re dead.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry-”

“No need. Finished them off myself,” Jackson says, deadpanning.

You pause before laughing at his joke, “Gotcha.”

“So, what’s your drink of choice?” Jackson asks, changing the subject lightly.

“Hmm, I don’t think I’ll tell you just yet,” you let your eyes roam everywhere but Jackson’s face until you land your gaze back on him.

“You want me to guess, then?” Jackson asks, “I’m good at that, actually.”

“Oh, really? Prove it, then,” you say with a playful edge to your tone.

Jackson puckers his lips, furrowing his eyebrows in thought, “I’m thinking white liquor,” he trails off, “Maybe vodka, something fruity but not too skimpy.”

“You’re close, but not quite,” you bite your lip.

“I think you’re the type to have a classic no one considers.”

“Which is?”

“Dirty Shirley,” Jackson snaps his fingers, pointing at you confidently.

“Nope,” you say, grinning, “Just a vodka and Sprite for me.”

“Ah, but I was close.”

“Yes, you were very close,” you say, having the urge to flirt with this man you don’t even know.

“I’ll go grab that for you,” Jackson says, getting up out of the booth and heading to the bar.

While he’s gone, you rummage through your bag for a perfume roller, quickly rubbing some on your pulse points. Then, you unbutton the first two buttons of your blouse, revealing your cleavage just enough to be subtle. Turning around for a second, you see Jackson heading back to the booth, and you brush yourself off before slipping the perfume back into your bag.

“A vodka and Sprite for the pretty lady,” Jackson places your drink down in front of you before returning to his spot across from you.

“‘Pretty lady,’ huh?” you raise an eyebrow, taking the two black straws into your mouth.

“What can I say?” Jackson raises his hands in defense, “You are a pretty little thing. I’m glad I sat in your spot.”

“Oh,” you say, trying not to let your face heat up at the compliment, “Well, I’m glad too.”

The both of you silently sip your drinks after that, sharing fleeting glances while giggling. You decide to be cheeky, slipping off one of your heels and running your foot underneath Jackson’s pant leg. You nonchalantly look around the bar, chewing on your straw as if you weren’t up to anything. Jackson is staring right at you with a smirk as his eyes stare holes into your off-cast ones.

“Feeling a little naughty, are we?” Jackson whispers, just loud enough to hear over the music.

You move your eyes toward him, “How do you mean?”

“I see,” Jackson looks down at the remainder of his second drink, “You wanna play like that, huh?”

“Play like what?” you challenge him, pushing your foot farther up his leg, now going over his pants and toward his thigh.

Jackson chuckles, about to say something, but he’s interrupted by the airport intercom. Your flight is a few minutes from boarding.

“Oh, that’s me,” you frown, downing the rest of your second vodka and Sprite before looking at Jackson, “What do I owe you?”

“For the drinks? Nothing,” Jackson licks his lips, “But for the teasing? We’ll have to see about that.”

“Oh really?” you ask, your heart rate now picking up at the obvious flirting.

“Really.”

“And what will you do about it?” you daringly ask.

“Well, we are on the same flight,” Jackson says, “So we’ll have to see.”

The two of you head over to the gate, getting in line to board. You boredly flip through a book your friend suggested for you to read on the flight. Jackson takes notice of this.

“Bookworm? Didn’t pick that up about you,” Jackson asks, rolling back and forth on his heels and toes.

“Depends on the book,” you say, pursing your lips as you skim over the words, “Don’t think I’m a fan of this one, though.”

“That’s a shame. Any ideas of what you’re gonna do on the flight?” Jackson inquires, a flirty undertone in his question.

“Hmm,” you wonder, “Probably sleep. Unless I find something else to do.”

“Ah,” Jackson nods, “Hopefully, you will.”

“Hopefully,” you chuckle.

You and Jackson get separated during boarding, but you do a double-take when you arrive at your seat.

“Are you in the right seat?” you ask.

A familiar pair of striking eyes look up from a book to meet yours, “Did I steal your spot again?”

“No,” you shake your head, laughing, “I’m seat fifteen B.”

“And I’m fourteen B,” Jackson closes his book.

“Interesting,” you say, “Small world, huh?”

“Small indeed,” Jackson exhales, about to say something, until a lady a few rows down asks for help with her carry-on.

You move to the side, allowing Jackson to scoot by you. As he does, he puts a gentle hand on your waist, sending goosebumps up your spine. You watch as he helps the lady, and you try not to laugh when she tries flirting with him. Jackson returns to the row, moving past you again and plopping into his seat.

“I know we talked for what, two hours? But I never asked, why are you headed to Miami? Work or play?” Jackson asks, buckling his seatbelt as the flight attendants announce preparation for take-off.

“Work, unfortunately. I take this trip often, red eye and everything,” you say, resting your head on the headrest behind you.

Jackson nods, “I’m here for work too. I hate flying, not going to lie.”

“Me too,” you grumble, “I hate everything about flying, including the airport and everything that comes with it.”

“Everything?” Jackson presses jokingly.

“Well, today was different. I actually had a nice time at the airport, especially since I got to meet you,” you say, keeping your eyes on the flight attendant as she goes over the safety precautions and flotation devices under the seats.

“Good to know,” Jackson says, placing a hand on your knee.

You look at his hand, feeling very warm all over. The plane begins to speed up and ascend, and you relax in your seat, Jackson’s hand still on your knee. His nose is in his book as you try your best to read your friend’s book suggestion. When the plane finally reaches 30,000 feet, the seatbelt light turns off, and the lights dim. Flight attendants offer pillows and blankets, and you take a blanket, tucking your book away and covering yourself with the blanket. You’re on the verge of sleep when you feel Jackson’s hand slide up your thigh. You pretend you’re asleep, not moving or reacting to his touch. His hand is hidden by the blanket, so no one can see his hand move further up, dangerously close to your core. You’re wearing a dress, so there’s easy access. Not that you were complaining that Jackson was touching you. You were feeling him up earlier at the bar, so now it’s his turn.

Jackson sneaks his hand back down your thigh and over your dress, slowly making his way over your hip and waist, up to your clothed breast. The blanket‘s hem was tucked behind your shoulders, covering up your entire body, so no one could see Jackson’s hand crawl underneath your dress again. This time, to squeeze at your breast. You try not to move or make a noise as Jackson takes your nipple between his fingers, pinching it lightly. Pretending as if he woke you up, you rouse and sit up straight.

“What are you doing?” you ask, acting as if you were asleep.

“I know you’ve been awake the whole time, sweetheart,” Jackson whispers.

“No, I wasn’t,” you say innocently.

“Don’t lie to me,” Jackson chastises, twisting your nipple harshly.

You bite your lip, muffling a moan. You squeeze your legs together as he continues to tweak the bud.

“Is this what you want? Hmm? Teasing me earlier with your foot, I figured I’d play with you too.”

Jackson’s hand moves to your other breast, flicking your nipple. His other hand travels under your dress, his fingernails pressing into your skin. You bite your lip to stifle a moan from the sharp sensation on the sensitive skin of your thigh. His fingers ease to your core again, ghosting over your clit as you open your legs.

“Be quiet like a good girl,” Jackson says, eyes darting around to ensure no one is looking despite the lights being off.

You nod as he presses two fingers to your clit, rubbing slow, soft circles. Warmth gradually spreads in your lower belly at the sensation, and you widen your legs further. Jackson pulls his fingers away momentarily to slip them inside your underwear and continue his movements on your bare bundle of nerves. You cover your mouth, exhaling shakily at the stimulation. Jackson slips a finger inside you after playing with you for a while.

“Already so wet?” Jackson teases in your ear, his lips brushing against it.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.

Jackson slowly pumps his finger in and out, eventually adding a second one. You shutter from the delightful stretch. You look around before subtly jerking your hips forward, riding his fingers.

“Fucking yourself on my fingers so good,” Jackson nibbles at your ear lobe, “Can’t imagine how you’d feel around my cock.”

You bite your knuckle to hold in a desperate whine at his words, “Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what?” Jackson asks, his fingers picking up the pace.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, “Take me to the bathroom and fuck me against the wall.”

“What a brazen little one you are,” Jackson grins, pulling his fingers from you and sucking your arousal off them, “It’s gonna take a little more than that, though.”

You groan at the loss of fullness, “Like what?”

“Beg.”

You pull Jackson’s hand back to your soaking slit, “Please touch me, fuck me, do anything you want to me. Please.”

“Keep going,” he pants, circling your clit with his fingers again.

“Jackson,” you sigh, “God, I need you inside of me. So bad,” you hiss.

“Go,” Jackson whispers, “I’ll meet you there.”

You hurry to pull down your dress, pulling the blanket off you before quietly walking to the bathroom. You check the vacancy before pulling the door open, leaving it unlocked for Jackson. You sit on the toilet, waiting patiently as your pulse thumps in your ears. A few moments pass, and the door opens slightly, revealing Jackson before he slips inside the bathroom. You stand up, but before you open your mouth to say something, he picks you up and presses you against the wall. You wrap your legs around Jackson’s waist, kissing him with a bruising force. Jackson slides his tongue through your lips and into your mouth, exploring it as his hands grip your ass. You reach a hand down and unzip and unbutton Jackson’s pants, your hand snaking past his underwear band and wrapping around his cock.

“Fuck,” Jackson seethes, already hard from previous events in your seats earlier.

He pushes up the hem of your dress around your hips, pulling your underwear down far enough for him to slowly enter your throbbing core. Both of you gasp at the feeling, hours of pining hitting the climax. You thought Jackson was attractive the moment you laid eyes on him. You aren’t passing up the opportunity to join the mile-high club with such a gorgeous man. Jackson pushes further into you, and you relax more so he can press his hips into yours. Your fingers grasp at his hair as he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Your back roughly hits the wall behind you, but it wouldn’t be the last time. You have to hold onto the wall with one hand to not bang into it, your other hand holding onto Jackson’s hair for dear life as he fucks you without mercy.

“God,” you say, the word drawn out as you and Jackson’s hips slam into each other.

Jackson covers your mouth as you stare into his blue eyes, now darkened with lust, “Stay quiet.”

You nod, “Mhmm,” you hum from underneath his hand.

Your eyes stay on each other as you move your body forward in time with Jackson, his cock hitting that spot inside you perfectly, sending shockwaves over you. Jackson wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady as his other hand moves between the two of you to rub tight figure 8’s on your bundle of nerves. You squeal, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Jackson continues to fuck into you like you’re a sex object. You feel yourself clenching around him as your orgasm creeps up. You pull on Jackson’s hair harshly, causing him to moan as his hips stutter. You do it again, and he has to bite your neck in order not to moan out loud.

“Are you gonna cum?” Jackson grunts into your ear, “Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “Fuck yes, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum around my cock, pretty thing.”

Your release smacks you in the face, sending your body reeling as it nearly convulses against the lavatory wall. Jackson cums right after you as the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock sends him over the edge. You milk him for all he’s got, rutting your hips through both of your orgasms. You both catch your breath as Jackson lets your legs collapse back to the floor weakly. He holds you up as you regain your posture.

“I suddenly really like flying now,” you push your hair out of your sweaty face.

“Me too,” Jackson says with an expressionless face, which you match.

Suddenly, both of you burst out laughing but cover your mouths quickly before anyone can hear in the plane. After cleaning yourselves up, you both successfully sneak out of the bathroom and back to your seats, covering up with the blanket.

“Ever barhopped in Miami?” you ask Jackson, trying your best to hold your eyes open.

“Nope. You?’

“Nope. Want to?”

“Absolutely.”

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr

1K notes · View notes

hisbitchhh · 3 months

Note

GETO NSFW PROPMTAW 😍😍😍😍

LOVIN IT !

GETO SUGURU NSFW PROMPTS 🔞MDNI🔞

Warnings: Geto being a horny bitch, Name calling, Pet names, filthy words, sexual themes, dirty talk, different positions, pp eating, blow job, face fucking, size kink, choking, groping, rough sex, fem! Receiving, cocky Geto, bouncing on cock, jealous Geto, cock warming, grinding, creampie, LOTS of cum, praise kink, slight aftercare (if you squint) near the last prompts

Notes: Here's what you all have been waiting for!!💕

Prompt count: 20

!NOT IN ORDER!

1. "Fuck, so fuckin' tight..." The man let out a low moan as his head tilted back in pleasure, "Pussy milkin' me dry, baby..."

2. "Don't pass out on me now," His tongue ran along his bottom lip, holding you up by your hips as you weakly attempted to bounce on his cock.

3. " 'M sending this to Satoru," Geto let out a cocky chuckle, snapping a quick picture of his long and thick fingers sinking deep inside your soaked cunt. Your hazy eyes caught the flash of his phone once more, this time taking a close-up picture of himself with his tongue pressed up against your swollen clit.

4. "Oh, fuck!--" Small, dark orbs that were once impatiently looking down at you were immediately hidden under eyelids that were squeezed shut at the feeling of your lips wrapping around most of the length of his cock, already twitching inside the warmth of your mouth, "Yeah, just like that, princess, hah--"

5. "Shit baby, only one finger fits," He raised a brow at you as his index finger massaged your G-spot, biting his lip at the thought of feeling your velvety walls wrapped around his thick, pussy hungry cock.

6. " 'Ts gonna take long for me to prep you, pretty girl." Geto smirked, breathing a kiss onto your lips all while he attempted to add a second digit into you, " 'Don't wanna hurt ya. 'M too thick for you, sweetheart."

7. "That's my girl," A chuckle left him as he placed the blunt between your kiss-swollen lips, his hands then going down to grip your hips. Suddenly, his lips reached your ear, giving it a gentle brush, "Smoke it while I fuck you, baby."

8. "All mine... 'M so lucky to have you, my sweet girl-- aaahhh, fuuckkk..." He leans his head back against the headboard, bed creaking under your movements as he helps you move up and down his thick, long cock, hands on your hips while his nails dug into your soft skin.

9. "S' good to me, gorgeous-- mmh, shit.." He watches with half lidded eyes as you fist his cock in a quick pace, his abdomen clenching, a hand going to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Feels a lot better when you do it for me.."

10. "You're unbelievable..." His teeth dug into his bottom lip, the pads of his thick fingers teasing his tip while he watched you undress in front of him, "Gettin' me all hot and bothered already..."

11. "You're so perfect..." Your boyfriend whispered in your ear, squeezing and fondling the soft skin of your ass as you began to wake up from his movements. A grin curled his lips at your fluttering lids, "C'mon baby, wake up. 'Can't wait any longer," Geto pressed a wet kiss to your jaw, dry humping you in attempt to awaken you.

12. "Mmmh," The man moaned, closing his eyes in satisfaction as his tongue expertly licked along your folds, "S' good and obedient f' me, my love," his wet lips puckered and wrapped around your clit, feeling the sensitive bead up with the tip of his tongue before sucking on it with quick motions, making you tug at his hair and pull him closer to your desperate cunt.

13. "Awh-- fuck," Geto groaned, pounding into your pussy with normally paced yet firm thrusts as he gazed down at you, licking his lips when he took one of your hands and pressed it against your pelvis, making you whine in response to the sudden contact of his cock bulging through your skin. "You like that, my sweet girl? Like it when my cock fucks you so good you can feel it in your stomach? Hmm?"

14. "C'mon baby you can take it--" Your boyfriend muttered into your ear, licking a stripe up your neck, quickly being interrupted by a long grunt of surprise of his own as he slowly and gently sank his length into you. "Shittt, you're tighter than I expected..." He huffed out a laugh, rubbing circles into your hip as he stretched you out. "Or maybe I just have girth..."

15. "'The hell were you doin' talkin' to that guy? Hm?" Geto hissed in your ear, gripping your hips so hard you feared his hands would leave a mark of their own on your soft skin. He bullied his dick into you with violent backshots, the bed violently creaking under your bodies while the only thing you could hear was the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin and your own teary moans. You'd end up with a sore throat by the end of the night.

16. "Yer' all mine, baby girl, Mine. And. No. One. Else's." He fucked his words into your fluttering pussy, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks and loud pained whines leaving your lips as he yanked you hair back, keeping you in place all while his thick cock bulged through your pelvis.

17. " Mmm, bet you like this, hm?..." Geto gradually made out with you, the feeling of your tight and wet cunt hugging his dick as he slowly thrust into you making him desperate to fuck you numb. " 'M bein' nice enough, givin' you a break from my mean cock," his shaft was already wet with your slick, chest pressed against your own with your legs loosely wrapped around his hips.

18. "Ffuckkkk, do you see it, baby? You see yourself, see how pretty that pussy looks swallowing my dick whole? Mmmh?" The man groaned, rolling your nipple with his thumb while the other hand held you by your hip, holding you up in a reverse cowgirl position on his dick so you could watch yourself ride him in your full-body mirror. "Pussy feels s' good, I'll be fuckin' this cute thing every day."

19. "Look at yourself, so pretty and drunk off my dick, aren't ya, my sweet girl?" Your boyfriend smirked, pointing his phone at you, currently recording you with the flash of his device as his cum dripped out of your mouth and down you chin, earning a harsh, wet slap from his slick cock to you cheek. You whined, face already stained of tears from choking on his dick and trying to take it all in. Geto's hand moved to to your hair, tucking free strands behind your ears and wiping your tears away, scooping the cum on your chin up with his tip and allowing you to lick the essence of his fiery red tip.

20. "That's a good girl," The man chuckled, throwing the phone onto the bed and tucking his shaft back into his sweatpants. "C'mon, get up. 'Lemme clean your face."

455 notes · View notes

rodolfoparras · 4 months

Note

I need to be Price’s big scary dog (yes I know Ghost exists but lemme dream for a minute for gender reasons).

Imagine being this huge hulking figure that’s constantly his shadow, teeth bared, ready to snap at anyone who dare cross him.

But also. Being his good boy, his good pup, and being allowed to fuck him senseless. Him muttering slurred praises as you fuck into him, pinning him underneath your weight as you breed him.

He really do got that dog in him and that dog is me ‼️

Anygays! I hope you are doing well and hydrating and resting :3

- 🐺

Thinking about Price being known as the captain to pick up strays, taking in problematic soldiers to give them a second chance.

When he first read your files all he could see was people describing you as a merciless beast but instead of being horrified, Price had been intrigued.

He couldn’t help but wonder what made the beast tick and if he could use it to his own advantage.

So he had you flown out to base, escorted all the way to his office with guards leading you there.

Price had been quick to send the guards away. They’d been hesitant at first unsure if the captain should be left alone but eventually they did leave.

Price had walked up to you, cupped your cheek, and pulled you closer to inspect you throughly

And instead of biting his head off, like anyone would have expected you to do, you were quiet as ever while keeping your head bowed.

Good boy, he thinks to himself. I’ll train you well

And trained you he did, whenever you dared bare your teeth at him, he’d have you down on all four before shoving his cock down your throat, all while keeping a boot clad foot on your clothed crotch. You’d be muttering apologies with your lips wrapped around his dick while your own dick weeped under his boot clad feet.

Whenever you refused to listen to his commands he’d tie your arms and legs to the bed while using a toy on himself. You wouldn’t be able to touch him, hell sometimes you wouldn’t even be able to see him, only being able to hear the sounds of pleasure slipping past his lips and the obscene squelching sounds that echoe throughout the room as he fucks himself on the dildo.

You’d beg and plead to see him, to fuck him, promising you can make him feel better than the toy can but he wouldn’t listen to any of it, smiling at the tears trickling down your cheek while he rides the plastic dick “that’ll teach you to listen to what I say”

And maybe just maybe if you’ve been good enough he’ll let you fuck him, listening to the pathetic sound escaping your lips as he lines your cockhead up with his puckered rim, watching the way you go from setting a steady pace with your hips to erratically thrusting into him, before he feels you spill inside him

“s good so good- thank you sir - thank you so much”

#Alec’s cozy Tuesday #alec answers #🐺 anon #I hope you’re doing good my little sugar cube 🥹#john price x reader #call of duty #john price x male reader #captain john price #john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #dom male character #sub male reader #bottom male character #top male reader

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tastesousweet · 4 months

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (i)

grumpy!matt sturniolo x sunshine!fem oc / reader

summary : matt is a grumpy tattoo artist and y/n books him for her first tattoo.

warnings : needles and pain (not very detailed tho)

mickey speaks : i don't have any tattoos so i actually know nothing ab the procedure lmaooo just guessing but i’ll be writing multiple parts for this. also i am very much self indulging bc i headcannon y/n as poc! but obvi anyone can read there's not much exclusivity ab how i write her, i js wanted to note that for any poc readers <3.

THIS IS PART 1 BTW!!!!

“SHITTT,” you draw out the last syllable at the rumble and screech of your car engine as you continue your attempt to start it.

eventually you throw your head backwards in defeat, annoyed by the unbudging car. this is the actual worst timing. you're supposed to be at the tattoo shop (that is a 12 minute drive from your apartment complex) for an appointment in less than twenty minutes.

you truly want to scream and border on throwing a tantrum but decide it would probably be better to find a solution than complain about the agony further.

you quickly find your roommate's contact, raising your phone to your ear and pinching your eyes shut as the vibrating ring hums through your skull.

"y/n? what's up?" andrea answers confused as you had only just walked out of the door five minutes ago.

"hi drea... so i know you have your own plans right now but is there any way you can give me a ride... please?"

you hear shuffling on the line, "mmm, where to?"

౨ৎ

“thank you again for driving me,” you smile at andrea and squeeze her hand before reaching for the door.

“yes, of course. you can call me when you’re done and i’ll head over here- m’sorry i can’t stay with you.” she replies and exaggerates a frown.

"i'll be fine, i think- i hope..."

"you will be fine. just don't stress or it'll hurt more."

౨ৎ

your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you make your way into the shop (in its form of an oversized warehouse, fixed up to look stylish and comfortable- something you’d never really seen before). the rickety jingle of a small bell kindly indicates your presence to the rest of the shop.

a few people sitting in a waiting area look up before continuing their conversations (though some continued to stare as you walk by). you see a surprising amount of people crowding in a brightly decorated lounge area, housing many arcade games and a kitchenette.

you reach the receptionist desk and are greeted by a young man dressed casually, humming along to the music playing in the background of the space.

“um, hi. i’m here for my 1:30 appointment.” you state with a smile, you’re suddenly aware of how nervous you truly are.

the brunette looks over to a desktop screen with a soft scrunch of his face, “for y/n, right? huh, that’s crazy…” he rubs his chin, “1:30 was like nine minutes ago,” he looks up at you, almost like he was questioning you; who do you think you are? and why do you think you’re important enough to be late?

as soon as your face begins to morph into fear and embarrassment his own face splits into a large smile as he laughs softly. “i’m sorry- i’m such an ass but i had to- your file said you’re new clientele so i just had to fuck around.”

“you’re sick! i was fully prepared for a fucking lecture on timeliness or something,” you let out a soft laugh.

the boy comes from around the desk holding a paper and clipboard. “yeah, sorry, i’m chris,” he reaches a hand out to which you willingly return and restate your name to him, “‘m not usually up front so you probably talked to asha over the phone when booking.”

you nod and smile at the familiar name, “yeah, she was so helpful over the phone.”

“she’s awesome, i miss her,” he touches each of his shoulders then forehead before kissing his hand and pointing to the sky.

"oh my god? i'm sorry for your loss."

his eyes squint and lips pucker in confusion, "oh, she's not fired she's just on vacation right now."

"so why'd you...?"

chris cuts you off by handing you the clipboard and grabbing a pen from a cluttered mason jar on the desk as he explains, “okay, we’re just gonna have you fill out this quick consultation form; just so you and your artist will be on the same page about things.” you nod in understanding. “keep it brief, matt’s not big on reading large bodies of text,” chris laughs.

“got it,” you smile before turning to find a chair and begin writing. you truly were relieved that chris wasn’t hard on you about being late, for a second you thought you would be lectured and have to carry the guilt of dissapointing someone into a room where you'd be paying to lie in excruciating physical pain. (damn, double homecide)

the sheet had general information to fill before the questions specifically about the tattoo you’d be getting today came.

you go back up to chris once you’re finished.

“cool, follow me we’ll set you up with matt.” he leads the way and your nerves are suddenly back as it's feeling more and more real with each step. you pacify your thoughts by looking around at the many images and messages written in sharpie along the walls of the hallway. there's also plenty of hanging shelves around with vintage trinkets and succulents that compliment the space around.

chris reaches a curtain and dips his head past as if he were checking for something before giving you a chance to see. you notice the small "Matt" embroidered on the black curtain. chris then opens it wide enough for the both of you to walk into the surprisingly large space.

(who you can only assume to be) matt sits comfortably in a wheeled desk chair, legs spread. his elbow rests on the arm of the chair and he holds his head up with two of his fingers, as his middle finger grazes his irritated mouth with a stern look on his face while he scrolls on his phone.

he doesn’t move his position when he looks up at the two of you.

“alright! matt this is y/n,” chris motions between you two. matt hums, placing his phone on the desk and placing his hand out expectantly for the clipboard. chris goes to hand it to him and whispers, “fix your face, jackass,” then turning around to leave you some reassuring words, “good luck y/n, the tat’s gonna look amazing.”

but chris doesn’t see matt exaggerating a large, sarcastic smile from behind him in defense of chris’ words (he immediately drops it though). something that would make you at least giggle if you weren’t so nervous.

“thanks,” your voice is a little hoarse as you haven’t used it in some time. matt watches the boy leave before looking over to you. he rolls the chair closer, reading over your short (as requested) responses.

“you can sit down.” he forms it almost as a question like are you going to sit down or do i have to direct you to do everything?

you sit on the black cushioned bench, lined with a disposable white cloth and begin to fidget with your fingernails as matt goes over your paperwork quietly.

“''kay, so you’re getting a small hello kitty on your lower hip?” he summarizes while checking and signing a few lines on a paper.

“yeah, um, i told asha over the phone that way you could have it sketched already- she told me that’s best and saves time for the both of us.”

his response is a slowed nod and a breathy, “yep,” as he rolls over to his desk and places the clipboard on the surface before opening a drawer and digging through it.

you gaze around the room and wonder if he decorated the space himself or if he wasn’t the type to be bothered enough to add personal things to his work area. almost all the posters are of music artists or tattoos, the most personal things you see are a small picture frame on his desk and a pokémon plushie sat on a chair in the corner of the room. all of which just pose more questions in your working brain.

you notice him switching to a different swivel chair that is lower to the ground and bringing himself (as well as a moving table with already prepared supplies) closer to you.

you’re nervous again. even after your roommate and older brother have both given you advice on first tattoos and the pain expected you’re still finding yourself scared of what to expect. your ear piercings would have nothing on this.

“first tattoo?” matt clarifies, as if he could read your mind. you nod and go to speak but stop when he gestures for you to lay back on the cushion.

you’re sure that he only was searching for a quick confirmation from you and is not too interested in your life or what brings you here but you’ve found that talking relieves your own stress and you absolutely cannot just lay there and only speak when spoken to.

“yeah, i guess m’nervous. i just hope i don’t, like, die from pain or hate the outcome or curse myself in a couple years for the placement- but it's not that i'm doubting that it'd be cute. younger me would be screaming at the fact that i'm even here..." you pause just for a second. "but then again i'm not sure how much forty year old me will appreciate it. so i guess i just don’t know. you know?”

you lean yourself up to get a look at matt, only to realize he has airpods in and simply has not been listening or interested in you (just as you expected). he’s moving his head the smallest amount to the beat as he works on his sketch.

he notices your movement though and takes a headphone out of his ear, “are you okay?” is all he asks.

a pretty broad question. and an anxiety inducing question to ask a girl who's been questioning her decisions as much as you have. you hope you’re okay. will you still be okay when this (mostly) permanent decision is etched into your skin forever? is he okay? will he give you any sense of encouragement or comfort during this process? are tattoo artists typically like this or are you just considered especially needy clientele?

“yeah, i just was- like, curious, i guess.” you mumble a little and internally hate that you feel so insecure in this situation. so out of control.

“was just adjusting my sketch to be a smaller. nothing crazy happening over here.” he shrugs. “you can go ahead and pull your shirt up, though. i’m just gonna clean the area and prep before inking.” he explains to you very straight and to the point.

you fall back into place and obey, inching your shirt up further to expose your lower stomach. you drape your arms over your face to gain composure as you hear matt rip some packaging.

the coolness of the cleaning pad sends your stomach butterflies and you try to not think too hard about the fact that matt’s hands will be on your lower stomach and hip for a good length of time.

eventually matt speaks to you again, “i’m starting so if you’re feeling the need to get the fuck out you gotta do it now or for forever hold your peace.”

you smile a little at his dry joke but when you turn your head to see him fully serious you blink, “no, i’ll be fine. thanks though.”

he just nods his head and goes to put his airpods back in before you’re interrupting again, “wait. whatcha listening to?”

he’s suprised by the question. his clients rarely get too involved in what he’s doing. mostly because he does a great fucking job no matter how few words he may utter over an entire session. there's a mutual understanding there that he's never had to speak up about to anyone. other artists use a strong bond or charisma to secure returning customers but matt finds there’s nothing better to display than his pure talent and passion for his craft. that’s how he keeps clients. they ask and he will always deliver; and that’s how he particularly likes it. no questions and minimal conversation.

the sound of the tattoo gun begins and just for your sake he decides to answer the question without malice, “just some frank ocean instrumental tracks." he places his hands back onto your skin, "don’t start moving.”

you pinch your eyes shut and squeeze your forearms as soon as the initial pain takes over. it’s a feeling you can only describe as a needle poking into you a trillion times at once. which is literally what's happening to you.

you’re not oblivious to matt’s disengagement with your attempts at conversation but you need him to continue to speak to you or else you’ll think too much about the needle actively puncturing you. “oh yeah? i’ve never listened to him before…”

“surprising. he’s pretty big.” matt mumbles slightly, focusing on his work far more than his slight interest in your knowledge of frank ocean.

“mhm. i’ve been meaning to give him a listen. could you share?”

matt’s eyes just move to look up at your face as he tries not to beg you to just be quiet and let him do this so that you both can leave within an hour. “i’m good on that.” he returns to tattooing.

“huh? you can’t share music?”

“i would prefer not to but-” he doesn’t even know why he’s continuing to fuel this anymore.

“what if i add a pretty,” you pause to wince a little as the needle moves lower, “pretty please?”

“i’m almost done,” he mumbles the lie.

“matt?”

he pauses for only a second to glance over to you. he’s met with a face scrunched in pain with an attempted smile that he thinks makes you look more like a doped up hippie than the cute effect you were going for. you plead after his glance, “pretty please?”

he rolls his eyes and sets his tattoo gun down, reluctantly swiveling over to his desk. before you even realize what exactly he’s doing there’s a airy beat of drums and piano playing from a small speaker in the room.

once he's back over to you he can tell you’re smiling even though your face is mostly covered by your arms. “thank you, i needed a distraction or something.”

he mumbles an “mhm” and returns to his work.

౨ৎ

there was generally no talking after that. only a few moments you observed (due to your need to cling on to literally anything going on besides the pinching at your lower side) that were any indication of matt's quiet presence. you noticed when matt would softly hum the lyrics to the instrumentals over the speaker and when you began to tap your fingers out of boredom and nerves, to which he simply placed his hand over them to force them flat while muttering a small “stop.”

when matt was completely finished he asked you if he could take a picture to add to his instagram and you agreed eagerly. he then added a strip of tattoo film over a layer of protective ointment. after he helped you to fully stand he explained how to care for it and how important cleaning is because “that shit will get gunky as fuck.” and you told him that you promise to do everything he said. he also gave you a detailed list on a card for you to follow just in case you forget.

you glance down at your tattoo one last time before you begin to leave the room you’d just spent a lengthy hour of your life in. you assume matt doesn’t want much else from you until he calls your name from his desk. you turn and see him still looking at his phone before glancing up, “uh, what’s your insta handle, so i can tag you in this?”

you don’t know why you’re surprised but you are.

you agree to exchange handles with him before deciding to compliment him once more, “my tattoo is perfect, by the way. i love it so much, thank you.” you want to tell him that you hope you didn’t annoy him too much but you don’t know if that will annoy him more. so you take his nod and hint of a smile as his way of showing appreciation, keeping your own smile bright to mask the crushing feeling of someone seeming so indifferent towards you.

after walking past the curtain and through the trinket-filled hallway you’re back to the main area of the warehouse. you see a different collection of people gathered playing pool and some more huddled on a couch looking at a girl’s phone in awe. chris is busy talking with what seems to be a close friend when you walk up to the reception desk.

when his eyes find your bright expression he’s bouncing back with energy, “hey! i’m assuming it went well?" he asks.

"very well. glad it's over though, i can't lie." you laugh while taking your debit card from your purse.

"yeah, definitely not the best feeling. especially when matt's ugly face is that close to you." chris jokes and takes your card to cash you out.

you laugh along with him but assure him that matt's looks weren't an issue. he raises his eyebrows and has a growing smirk that travels to his eyes when he gives you your card back. you try not the blush at the implication, "i didn't mean it like that."

"right," he nods and chuckles softly, "well hopefully you'll be back for another eventually?" he hands you a receipt.

"i mean how could i not with such a sweet receptionist asking me? i'm sure you get everyone to come back," you joke.

chris shrugs with a cocky grin, "somethin' like that."

౨ৎ

"oh my god it's fucking adorable, what?!" andrea exclaims with a spoonful of frozen yogurt still in her mouth.

she initally begged to see it as soon as she picked you up but you dramatically told her you had just experienced the worst pain of your life and you'd need a sweet treat if you were planning to not sleep the rest of the day away. so she just rolled her eyes and demanded you show her once you both arrive at your favorite frozen yogurt shop (conveniently down the street from your apartment complex).

"i knowww," you respond and quickly pull the lower part of your shirt down with a smile, taking a seat across from drea.

"how'd it go, though? i'm curious. i've only been to warehouse 79 like once, and it was for an event."

"it was good, they were all generally kind and my guy did exactly what i wanted. i'm pretty happy."

"'my guy,' oh okayy?" she takes a bite and smirks.

"not what i meant! i should have just said matt. like, the guy who did my tattoo-"

"mhmm."

"stop.” you smirk, “i mean he was not ugly by any means but he seemed to not care to get to know me at all. which is fine, he's not paid to care about me. but i doubt i'll ever see him again." you shrug taking another bite of frozen yogurt.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

#this took way too long #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #sturniolo triplets smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #tattoo matt n yn

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rinhaler · 5 months

Note

holding you at gun point to write smth abt draken with this <3 (bonus points if daddy kink bc daddy issues go brrrrr)

ohhhhh my first tr writing on this blog lets gooooooooo

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, cheating, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spit.

words: 1.1k

“Fuck—” you moan, feeling the impact of being slammed against the wall by Draken before he suffocates you as his lips encase yours. He’s so touchy, always has been, though things might have gone a tad too far this time. “K-Kenny, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Sh, baby.” he interrupts, kissing you again before he trails his lips lovingly along your jawline and gropes your breast as he starts suck kisses into your neck.

“What about Mi- What about Manjiro?” you gasp, angling your neck to give him better access to you. You suppose you aren’t truly thinking about Manjiro at all. “He’ll be s-so mad at you, and me, Kenny, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

He silences you as he lifts you fully into his hold, your legs wrap around his waist and you capture him in another kiss. You can feel how hard he is, even through his jeans. And his moans, God, his fucking moans are spellbinding. You’d happily face Mikey’s wrath if it meant you can listen to Draken grunt and groan like this for you whenever you please.

“Fuck Mikey,” Draken tells you, his voice dropping a few octaves as he drops you down onto your mattress below. “I saw you first, y’know. Knew you were meant to be mine the moment I saw ya. And he fucking—” he stops himself, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him.

Desperate hands reach and grab to hold him in any capacity. But he pulls away to yank down your panties. Although, his frenzied hands are too impatient, ripping them apart with ease.

You sit upright to chase him, eager to kiss him once more. He breaks it to throw his shirt over his head into a crumpled pile at the foot of your bed. He watches you, huffing excitedly as you undo his belt and pull down his zipper.

He grabs your chin, jerking your gaze upwards so that your needy, shimmering eyes answer the question of just how much you want him. Or, rather, need him. They’re glittering with want and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier pair of eyes.

You break the stare, your head drooping as you pull down his jeans and underwear in the same eager motion.

You’re almost salivating when you see his cock for the first time. Oh, he’s perfect. His leaking cockhead is flushed beautifully as he aches for you. He’s so messy, so beautiful. And it’s all for you. He smirks upon seeing a little bit of drool form on the corner of your slack jawed mouth. He wipes it, softly, before pushing you onto your back.

“You’re fucking soaked…” he laughs softly, pushing two fingers into your tight heat and scissoring you open briefly. His hands, you’ve never failed to notice, are massive. They’re veiny and intimidating, his fingers curl deep in your walls. And they venture deep enough to have you screaming as he finds your g-spot. “I can’t wait anymore, baby, I’m sorry… hope that was enough for ya.” he warns you, pulling out his fingers and lining up his cockhead with your wet hole.

“Unff, f-fuck, Kenny…” you mewl, nails clawing into his muscular back as he splits you open on his length.

“Fuuuuuck me, baby.” he chuckles shallowly, slotting himself inside fully until he has no length left to give. And he fucks you, slow but deep. Skin slapping against skin filling the room you sleep in, usually, beside Mikey. “Your pussy’s made for me, can feel it…” he tells you, kissing you right after.

“Wanna be d-daddy shaped, p-please, fuck me hard.” you tell him. Black eyes widen with lust and adoration after hearing you speak so salaciously. A large hand frames the lower half of your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker for him. And he can’t help himself, he can’t fucking control himself. You see his mouth contort and then you’re hit with a glob of saliva, his spit landing perfectly between your lips and slithering onto your tongue.

“Swallow it, baby, g-good girl…” he struggles to keep his composure as he fucks into you. You are a good girl. So obedient, so fucking perfect. And the moan that leaves him is almost angelic as he watches you swallow his spit so beautifully. “This is daddy’s pussy, yeah? Gonna let me fuck this little cunt as much as I want, aren’t you? Until you’re fuckin’ mine.” he speaks, knowing in reality it makes no sense. You’re already his, in his mind.

Consequences be damned.

You wrap your arms around his body, holding him close as he pounds into you. You know you have to be quick about this, Manjiro could be home at any minute. But you can’t stop before you’re satisfied. Before you’re done. Before you’re fucking ready. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment as he lets himself enjoy the moment, fully.

And you practically feel his cock twitch when he pulls away to look into your pathetic wet eyes. Are you really going to cry from the pleasure? Is he making you feel that good?

“P-Put a baby in me, daddy?” you blink up at him so fucking innocently. Are you serious? Have you forgotten who you’re meant to be committed to and that you’re not meant to be doing this right now? Draken isn’t sure he heard you right. Not until you repeat it with a broken whisper and little please please please’s spilling from your lips with each thrust.

He doesn’t think he’s ever cum so fast in his life. Fractured moans fighting their way out of his lungs as he fucks his cum hard and deep into your unprotected womb.

“Fuck, I’m sorry…” he apologies, he’d had no intention of cumming that quickly. “’m not done with you.” he promises, pushing one of your knees into your chest before searching for your aching clit as you make out nastily.

Tongues and moans dizzying your brain with each swipe of his fingers.

You hope Manjiro won’t be home anytime soon.

Because you can’t get enough of his best friend.

#💌 — luxe mail #📨 — requests #ken ryuguji #tokyo revengers fanfic #draken smut #ken ryuguji smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev smut #draken x reader #draken x you #draken x y/n #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji x y/n #tw cheating #tw breeding kink #tw daddy kink #tw spit

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bunicate · 5 months

Note

hii hehe <3

could you write more incests/ddlg smut? with lots of praise and maybe lactation? 🥺💗

this can kinda be interpreted as incest but it’s more so just a regular daddy kink drabble if anything! but I saw dis an opportunity to talkie more abt wrio since he’s been heavy on the brain ! also today happens 2 be his birthday ☆ tiddy milkies is his gift ! !

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ SWEET TOOTH . wriothesley x fem reader

warnings ꒱ྀི daddy kink. lactation. tit sucking. male masturbation. cum swallowing / 18+

wriothesley rarely seeks out certain affections, but after the tumultuous build-up of fatigue, frustration, and annoyance he begins to find himself making his way into the very arms that rid him of those burdens. you’re already on your back when he enters the shared room— and while what he wants lies under your shirt, you make no effort to remove your top.

he likes your hardened nipples, puffed and erotically pressing against the tightness of your tank.

already accustomed to the routine, you slowly spread your thighs to welcome his larger body. you’re smaller than him, so he’s careful to avoid laying on you with his full weight.

he flicks and circles your nipples before sucking onthem over the fabric until it darkens with his spit. it’s only when your patterned camisole becomes too damp is when he exposes your sore tits swollen with milk.

his stare doesn’t falter from your lewd body, instead choosing to get more comfortable. he peels off his coat and undoes a couple of buttons of his shirt. he leans against you again to latch onto your chest. your breast in his mouth jiggles from his gentle suck that steadily increases in vigor.

he relaxes when you run your fingers through his hair tugging his soft strands. the man above you almost melts— he's temporarily free of all stress and worries, only able to focus on the sweetness that coats his throat. each nipple gets increasingly sloppy from his ministrations. he nips and licks at your areola, slurping any milk that dripped until he finds himself becoming insatiable.

wriothesley parts from your flesh only to capture both hardened buds between his lips. the shock makes you obediently arch your back and the pleasure is nearly maddening. thick cream from both of your nipples warms his mouth and he swallows diligently.

“ . . . I think I m-might cum like this.”

you drag out the syllables sounding close to something resembling a frustrated whine.

it was never really your intention to become aroused. you only ever want to satisfy him to his heart's content, but he treats you so fondly. he sucks your milk like it’s as sweet as honey, laced with sugar as though he had a sweet tooth. it wasn’t within your realm of control to muffle out the mewls that would inevitably tumble out being that didn’t seem like he wanted to stop.

light air brazed over your folds from his shifting. your pussy quivered and leaked from the lack of attention. your cunt was only awarded the faint touch of clothes as wriothesley sank his body closer to yours. you weren't sure how much longer you could be left hanging.

it was a game — the urge to cum shuffling between push and pull. it nears when you concentrate on the sensation of your tender nipples but stilts when your slick hole thumped with a jarring emptiness. so close and still far away.

wriothesley wants to smile at your admittance. he puckers around your breasts briefly before pulling away, crooning into your chest.

“cummin’ from your tits alone ?”

he raises his head in awe to get a better look at your unraveling. he jerks his thumb towards your nipple rubbing it in small circles to soothe the sensitive area.

“I haven’t even touched that little pussy yet .”

he teases you though he’s aware of his own limits. his cock strained against his jeans scuffing against the sturdy material. it slowly pulses, beckoning for release. he moves to kneel on the bed, knees on the sides of your relaxed frame. you remain still as his hands fumble with his zipper.

he pulls the metal down and it almost hurts to touch his bulge. It’s hot when his thick fingers enclose around the base, steadily getting tighter.

“daddy can’t blame you though,” he grunts, slowly pumping his length in languid motions.

“just look at my fuckin’ cock, princess. I’m hard just at the sight of you.” the swollen head creams pre-cum and it splats against your sternum. he jerks off over your chest at the view of your plump tits coated with saliva and milk.

“so cute,” he mumbles.

heat coats the apples of your cheeks and with each breath you take, your chest only begins to trickle out more of your sweetness. he positions his cock head against your sloppy nipples to catch the fluid.

he nastily wipes his tip around your achy bud— the feeling of the hardened flesh probing the middle of his flushed member was enough to make his balls twitch and threat to expel his load. wriothesley takes his other hand to pull the taut button hoping to hear more of your girlish noises.

“daddy ! y-you’re gonna ruin me. . you’re twisting my nipples -! ” you squeal.

your hips move on their own accord without guidance, slowly grinding on the bed in senseless want.

“yeah, and daddy’s gonna cum on them,” he replies in a breathless grunt. his cock is audibly wet, and he squeezes your breast, using your milk and his semen to enhance the slipperiness of his grip.

“you’re so pretty. . pretty face and fuckin’ tits, angel.”

he lifts up his shirt and bites it with his teeth, he’s growing warm, sweat glistens on his abdomen, his stomach flexing with each jerk of his fist. you watch him unabashedly as he pleasures himself.

“like what you see, doll face? since you’ve been so good, how about I give you some daddy’s milk in return?” he laughs. he feels filthy tainting his sweet girl like this, but his desire tossed any rationality he had left out the window.

“mhm . . I wan’ it daddy. ahh~”

you open your mouth and let you tongue loll out. you struggle to keep your eyes open in case his cum jets out unexpectedly but you still want to your daddy fuck himself to completion . his hand speeds up faster, and his breathing becomes ragged at your expression.

he never thought he’d find himself pathetically fucking his fist at the sight of his pretty girl with milky tits but he’s never been more eager.

“here it is baby,” he drawls.

“fuuuuuck.”

roughly, slotting his cock between your breasts, his tip messily bumps your bottom lip. both hands grab your nipples to pull your tits together and his girth gets swallowed by your fat mounds.

it’s a fucking sight.

he sloppily fucks those tits he spent hours decorating with his drool, and it becomes even more decorative as his cum spurts out in ribbons.

wriothesley goes faster, riding out his high, and his heavy balls pulse after his release.

cum stains your face and mouth, and you lick your lips, tasting the salty fluid covering your tastebuds.

he grumbles, “good girl, suck it up just like that.”

your mouth suckles on his member and presses light kisses on the length of his shaft.

savor it he wants to say, he wants to see your mouth do other things, but he couldn’t possibly be so greedy after already getting his fill.

he reeled back to the edge of the bed and removes the remaining layers of his clothes. his chains, jewelry, his shirt, and pants. the look on his face left you feeling excited, maybe even a little scared at what awaited you. especially when the duke gives you a sly smile with lids low and heavy.

he beckons to you with his fingers.

“ass up for daddy, princess.”

and you don’t need to be told twice.

#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #wriothesley x reader smut #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x you #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #tw:incest #tw: daddy kink #tw: lactation

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norrisleclercf1 · 7 months

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A pamper night with Lando or Oscar, where they basically let you do their skincare, watch a movie together, maybe paint his nails and just a lot of fluff <33

A/N: All this fluff I've writing today is going to rot your teeths and that's what I'm planning

"No, I want the oranges." Lando whines, head in your lap as you look through your large container of face masks. "Oscar already called dibs on the oranges, Lando." Your boyfriend huffs as the other one sits next to you smirking.

"Gotta be quicker, mate." Oscar raises his glass of wine, as bunny ear headband pushing his hair back. "Ugh, but I wanted the oranges, they make my skin glow." Lando flips his curls making Oscar snort. "Too bad, you got them last time, I get it this time." "Boys, stop fighting." You weren't holding any annoyance with your tone more so amusement.

"Do you have anything that smells good?" Lando sighs, closing his eyes letting you use the odd roller on his skin. "You're rather fussy with your skin care." Oscar mummers, moving to sit behind you laying his head on your shoulder. "And? I'm the best looking on the grid, need to keep up my reputation." Lando jokes.

"I have mint or lavender." You mumble pulling out the two face masks. "Mint." Oscar places a soft kiss to your shoulder, grabbing the remote he starts to look through the movies. "That's a good one, mint it is." Lando smiles, eyes still closed as you start to lay the face mask on him.

"Lando, stop moving your face." Every time the wet fabric touches him he twitches which causes a large cress making it hard to lay it. "Sorry, it tickles." He smiles, Oscar picking 10 Things I Hate About You. "Great movie," Oscar smiles at your praise picking through your facial masks.

Finally lying the mask on, Lando sits up. Oscar snorts seeing the bear hairband which has Oscar pull him back placing a soft kiss on his ear before going to pop some popcorn. "Am I sexy?" Lando teases, laughing you wiggle around as he tickles you. "Yes, stop." You laugh as Lando puckers his lips placing a wet kiss on your lips.

"Aussie, come here so I can put your face mask on!" Lando yells, sitting crisscross applesauce patting his lap. Sighing you watch the gorgeous Heath Ledger lighting his cigarette on the Bunsen burner. Oscar comes in, holding your favorite candies and 3 large bowls of popcorn.

Without a second thought, Oscar lays his head on Lando's lap as you move closer to your boys. "This is far better than partying tonight." You mumble, the boys hum in agreement. "Best night ever." Oscar sighs, Lando rubbing lotion over his boyfriends face. "And Heath Ledger," You and Oscar sigh making Lando glare.

"I'll never win," Making you two erupt with laughter.

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zorosdimples · 8 months

Text

GOOD PET

pairing ༄ lucifer x gn!reader

warnings ༄ minors: please do not interact! i will block you. brief sexual content, pet play, dubious consent, voyeurism, exhibitionism. reader is self-conscious about their chest, but their genitalia isn’t mentioned, and they are referred to as “you.” lucifer is mean!!! please let me know if i should add anything else to the warnings!

word count ༄ 1123

notes ༄ i told jules @bizarrebankai forever ago that i would write this based on a post she made about lucifer and pet play. i never thought i would write pet play, but here we are! my initial vision for this piece was much softer, but…it took on a life of its own. i hope everyone enjoys <3

your neck prickles in anticipation as lucifer emerges from his closet and approaches you steadily, collar in hand. his predatory eyes are crimson—fresh blood on a sharp blade—but as he steps up to you, he raises a gentle gloved hand to cup your face. he breathes a wry chuckle as you melt into his hold.

“did you think you would get away unscathed after that stunt you pulled during my meeting, darling?” lucifer coos, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone, teasing tenderness. “no matter how sweet you are, you cannot escape your punishment.”

a foolish human, you rush to your own defense. “it was mammon’s idea and—” lucifer squeezes your jaw to stop your prattling, your glossy lips puckered into a cute pout.

the demon has half a mind to kiss you stupid and take you against the wall, but that wouldn’t be fun, now would it? after all: you must learn your lesson.

your gaze flickers down to the collar. the buttery black leather is accented by a gleaming buckle. no frills, no embellishments, no nonsense—much like your lover. the only notable feature of the collar is hidden on the interior lining: lucifer’s name spelled out in little silver stamps, each letter flipped backwards so when the collar hugs your neck, the cool metal nips at your warm flesh. after it’s unbuckled and removed, the demon’s name is branded into your skin.

it’s an ephemeral reminder of who you belong to.

“good pets only speak when they are spoken to,” lucifer reprimands as he fastens the collar around your neck tight enough to be uncomfortable. you whimper as you feel his name kiss your throat.

he offers you a sinister smile, wine-dark irises glowing with foreboding. “mammon will receive his punishment too, i can assure you. but i would be more concerned about myself if i were you.”

the thinly-veiled threat curls against your nape and gooseflesh skitters across your limbs. you shiver. lucifer pats your head like an owner comforting his jittery lapdog before crossing his arms and giving you a firm command: “strip.”

your fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you pull it off in one swift motion; your bottoms pool at your feet soon after, then finally your undergarments fly to the floor. perhaps you should feel vulnerable—nude and collared before the fully clothed demon—but you are single-mindedly focused on avoiding any further transgressions.

lucifer barely spares you a glance before he turns his back to you and walks toward the mahogany door. “better. now follow me.”

dropping on all fours, you trail after lucifer, knees knocking and palms dragging against the gnarled hardwood floor. you hesitate when he turns a corner and heads in the direction of the front entryway. as if he has eyes on the back of his head and can hear your thoughts, he stops to assert, “all my brothers are where they should be.” he doesn’t need to tell you to keep moving—the order is in the steel edge of his cool tone.

descending the stairs is difficult, and you scurry to keep pace with lucifer’s long strides, his footsteps muffled by the plush, centuries old carpet that leads to the living room. you follow him obediently down the winding halls, breathing sharply in and out of your nose so you don’t pant like a dog. confusion clouds your thoughts when the demon stops outside your bedroom.

you can taste the question that sits on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it down. wordlessly, lucifer opens the door, and you halt mid-crawl, a shocked gasp tumbling out of your lips.

mammon is bound and gagged, hanging upside down from the ceiling. the magic-imbued rope crackles and sparks as it comes into contact with the demon’s skin, a duel between lucifer’s magic and mammon’s, the woven fibers ultimately preventing the second-born’s escape. he’s writhing around against his bonds and letting out muffled curses as you enter the room.

when mammon spots you, he ceases to struggle altogether, body sagging and golden irises wide as grimm. you scramble to preserve some modicum of dignity, falling to your knees, hands flailing to protect your chest. flames engulf your skin and tears sting at your eyes. neither of you register the sound of lucifer closing the bedroom door and the lock clicking into place.

against your better judgment, you address the demon who orchestrated this twisted rendezvous.

“lucifer? what’s going on?” you wince at the words that leave your trembling lips—unusually high-pitched and squeaky like a dog toy. your humiliation intensifies.

“did you hear something, mammon?” lucifer addresses his younger brother casually, icy voice haughty. “it sounded like…yapping.”

mammon doesn’t react to lucifer’s question, still staring at you.

“you’ve been here for a while, and still have quite some time left, so i thought i would be a good big brother and bring you a little distraction to pass the time,” lucifer explains, stroking your hair. his touch would feel absentminded if you didn’t know him so well. “isn’t that right, little one?”

your neck snaps up to look at lucifer. his heavy hand still rests atop your head and his menacing grin reveals knife-edged incisors. you tremble beneath him: easy prey.

“you and mammon got into trouble together, darling; now you shall endure your punishments together.”

lucifer’s palm curves to fist your hair and tug you forward. in an attempt to avoid being dragged, you haphazardly crawl beside him, fingernails scraping against the floor. he stops you only a few feet from where mammon swings from the rafters.

“what do you think of my pet, mammon?” lucifer taunts. each word is an alluring barb dripping with poison. you watch the white-haired demon; his adam’s apple bobs in response to his brother’s question.

lucifer switches his attention to you, kneeling down to your height, thumbing at your plush bottom lip. “how would you like to give my dear brother a little show?” he asks. your body reacts before your brain can and you nod. his lips tug into a smirk. “i knew you would.”

your stomach turns as lucifer stands up and unbuckles his belt. his voice is low as he orders, “on your knees.” hot tears are already blurring your vision as you wobble into position.

lucifer pulls his cock out of his trousers, flushed and oozing precum. “tongue out.”

you do as he says, pink muscle lolling out of your mouth, salivating in anticipation. lucifer smacks his heavy tip onto your extended tongue and you stay still, awaiting his next order. under your fluttering lashes your wet gaze is glued to his; he beams.

“good pet.”

you are too rapt to notice your audience’s stifled groans and the prominent bulge in his jeans.

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peterman-spideyparker · 1 year

Note

since you’re literally my FAVOURITE matt murdock writer, i had to slip this by you :’) <3

high pain tolerance bf vs “noo i got a papercut” gf trope pls

Nonny, you are way too sweet!! :'') I love this!! TBH, I've had this written probably for a few months on my phone, but I ended my day with a nasty paper cut, and it reminded me to post! I hope you like it!

Tolerance (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Warning: Fluff and sweet domesticity, canon-typical injuries/Matt getting patched up

“Almost done, Matty,” you tell him as you work to stitch up the wound on his side.

“It’s really not that bad—it didn’t need stitches,” he tries to insist.

“Matthew, I can literally see inside of you,” you sigh. “Don’t go Monty Python on me.”

“I’ve been in worse scrapes, and you know that.”

“I do know that, and I don’t like that you’ve been in worse scrapes.”

“I have been more careful, though.”

“I appreciate it. But shut up.”

“Argumentative.”

“Badgering!”

“You’re doing the badgering, angel.”

“And you’re being argumentative,” you counter as you tie off his wound.

“I see my legal skills have rubbed off on you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you smirk, kissing his forehead. “I’m just glad you’re back down to your normal amount of holes now.”

You watch as the confusion dances across Matt’s face, absorbing the weirdness of your statement before you notice him slip into careful thought as he goes over his anatomy.

“Was . . . Was that supposed to be a compliment or insult?” he tries.

You begin to giggle uncontrollably before you lean over to kiss the top of his head, moving to gather all the scraps from patching him up.

“Compliment,” you clarify. “My big, strong, brave Daredevil is all patched up.”

“Sweetheart—.”

“Don’t brush off your nightly beatings like you’re being tickled with a feather duster. You have an unusually high pain tolerance.”

“That part is the Catholicism,” he says with a lopsided smile.

“Yeah, yeah, either way, you should see a medical professional about that brain of yo—hmmm!” you whimper.

“(Y/N)?” Matt asks, snapping his attention toward you, doing his best to get up as fast as he can with his wounds restricting him.

“‘M okay.”

“Not with that whine.” He grunts and shuffles his way over toward you, his hand wrapping around your own that covers your wound. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“It really hurts,” you mutter, keeping your head tilted down.

“What happened?”

You stay quiet.

“(Y/N)—.”

“Paper cut,” you grumpily admit.

“You . . . Got a paper cut?”

“It’s big and it’s deep and it’s not in a good spot!” you whine. Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Matty, it’s not funny, it really hurts!”

“Need me to kiss it better?”

“Well, I’m not opposed, but not if you’re gonna laugh at me!”

“I could never laugh at you, angel, just the things you do and how you make me feel.” He exposes the cut and lifts your hand to his lips for a soft, sweet kiss. “Does that feel better?”

“A little,” you admit. “It really stings. And I’ll have you know that I put up with a hell of a lot of pain for a week every month just to have your babies one day!”

An amused smile pulls across his lips.

“You just said—!” you start.

“You wanna have my babies?” he asks as the smile on his face grows even bigger, his eyes sparkling with pure, unadulterated happiness.

“Well . . . Yeah. I love you, Matt, and I’d be a big fat liar if I said I didn’t think about our future together.”

“How about when my ribs are in better shape and any superfluous holes have closed, we get some baby-making practice in.”

You feel your face grow hot as you blush deeply.

“You’re so cute when you’re bashful,” he hums, angling his head so he can kiss you.

“You know, Mr. Super-sense, if you weren’t covered in holes . . . !” Your mouth turns into an angry pucker as you try to think of where you were going the insult of your sentence.

“Yeah, angel?” What a punk, he is.

“Just shut up and kiss me, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiles brightly, bringing his lips to yours, cradling your head with his hand.

You happily return his embraces, getting carried away and lost in his lips before you manage to pull back. “There goes that blood loss, taking control of your mouth again,” you blush as his hands happily settle on your waist. “Let’s get you to bed before I have to give Claire a buzz, hm? I can only patch up holes in your body so well.”

Another soft chuckle escapes his lips as he kisses your again before turning and letting you guide him to the mattress and tuck him in so he can get a few hours sleep before he goes to defend his city once more, albeit in a less physical capacity.

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