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ravenslvt · 1 month

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☆ ryomen sukuna x f!reader ☆

cw: college au! smut! rough! degration! drabble

first thing you thought when you saw this man:

‘oh. i wanna fuck him.’

the way he acted like he absolutely hated you, always hiding a smirk when he caught you staring at him. his arms, his face, his muscles, his fucking tattoos.

“jesus. stop staring at him like that.” megumi would groan at the sight of you oogling the man. you’d blink up at him. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

your mind went crazy at night thinking about him. picturing him relentlessly pounding into you until you’re crying. a strong hand around your little throat.

don’t get started on his voice. the way he’d casually degrade you made your legs quiver.

“what the fuck are you looking at?”

the way you’d go over to him and yuji’s shared apartment just to hear him go “why the fuck is this bitch here?”

oh you loved it. and he knew it too.

that’s why when you stayed on yuji’s couch after a night of drinking, you casually thumbed at your phone, sending drunken misspelled texts to your friends.

‘hed so ficking hot giys’

‘seroudly i bet his duck is huuuuge’

your insistent typing got interrupted by a sudden groan behind you.

“why the fuck are you here?” sukuna stood behind the couch, looking over your shoulder. you quickly shut your phone off, turning to him.

your eyes almost popped out of your head at the sight of his shirtless chest.

you hadn’t even changed out of your bar clothes yet, still in a short little skirt and a low cut top. you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your attire.

“dressed like a slut too. are you begging to be fucked or something?” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. your cheeks heat, looking away from him.

“no… just didn’t bring extra clothes” your thighs clench together to calm the heat from down there.

he hums, walking to the fridge for some water.

“and i’m not a slut!” you work up the courage stand, to practically yell at him, despite how weak your voice sounded. this makes him turn around.

“really? you sure look the part.” he chuckles.

“fuck you.” you spit out at him, making him smirk.

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he quirks his head, eyes raking over your now standing form. the way your skirt hiked up just above your thighs.

okay, you were fucked.

“fuck! s’too much.” you mewl into the cushion of the couch, sukuna’s big veiny cock pounding into your tight little cunt. his hands gripping tightly at your hips, his pelvis meeting your ass with a loud clap at every thrust.

“you wanted this, didn’t you?” he laughs at your cries, his tip kissing your cervix every time he enters you, fucking you from behind.

he leans closer to your ear, his consistent deep trusts along with your moans were the only thing that filled the silence of the living room.

“runnin’ that fucking mouth and can’t even take dick.” he growls, grabbing your wrists and pulling you back to bring your bare back against his chest. you were covered in a thin layer of sweat, panting, all while he still had his full stamina, fucking into you ruthlessly.

you were embarrassed by the sheer wetness of your cunt, how the squelching noises proved how insanely bad you wanted him.

you whine when he lets go of your wrists, bringing his free hand to your throat, pressing you against him. using his other arm to wrap around your middle to hold you in place while he pumps into you.

“s’kuna!” you cry out, tits bouncing with every thrust. it was borderline painful the pace he was fucking you, but you loved it. you craved it. you spent countless nights fucking your little fingers imagining it was him.

“your pussy’s suckin’ me in like a fuckin' slut. thought you said you weren’t one? guess you’re a liar too.” he chuckles, hand tightening around your neck, partially cutting off your airflow. your hands go to reach behind you to tug at his hair, but he stops you.

“don’t fucking touch me.” he seethes, your cunt uncontrollably squeezing around him from the degration, making him groan and roll his head back.

“fuckk, you like that don’t you? so pathetic. suckin’ me in so well, though.” he grunts out between each thrust. you were so close, and he could sense it.

“g’nna cum.” you whine, hands gripping the edge of the couch.

“no, you’re fucking not.” he lets go of you, your upper body falling back onto the cushion below. you let out an exasperated scream when he suddenly pulls out of you completely. you crane your head back as far as you could to look back at him. he just has a smug ass smirk on his face.

“want you to beg for it.”

your mouth falls agape for a moment, but immediately closes.

“p-please, wanna cum so bad!” you try grinding back into him, but he holds you steady.

“surely you can do better than that, baby” his hand comes down to place a firm smack on your ass, making your eyes squint closed for a moment. you huff, pouting up at him.

“need your cock so badly, sukuna! p-please let me cum i need it!” you pathetically plead. you could feel the way you clenched around absolutely nothing, missing the presence of him inside of you.

“that’s more like it.” he quickly presses the fat head of his cock to your entrance, slowly easing in, stretching you out all over again.

“my own personal slut" he groans, feeling you clench around him.

his pace is even more brutal than before, his dick easily finding your sweet spot and hitting it over and over until you were practically drooling on the couch. his eyes glued to where you two meet, a ring of white around his cock.

your nails dig into the cushions below you, heat pooling in your lower abdomen. you were probably tearing the poor fabric apart at this point.

his fingers grip at your hips, pushing you up and down his cock. you were sure he was holding you so tight there will be bruises the next day.

suddenly his pace gets faster and sloppier, his cock pulsing inside of you. you bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out, feeling blood bloom from where your teeth meet your lip.

“gonna let me cum inside? be my little fuck toy i can do anything i please with?” he pants out, groaning at the way you clench around him.

“yes! yes, please do! o-oh my god!” your vision goes hazy as you cum around him, milking his cock fully as he follows suit, pumping his cum deep inside your weeping cunt.

you were pretty sure you blacked out for a second.

you collapse on your shaky arms, trying to move away from his unending thrusts. he pulls you back with a growl.

“the fuck are you going? we’re not done.” he starts back up again.

masterlist

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen x reader #jjk smut #x reader #reader insert #smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #fanfic #fanfiction #jjk fanfic

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sillysowa · 9 months

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Request, write as you please but

Now hear me

Plus size reader and hobie is just like 'Sit on my face, i will eat you out like a pie' Reader tried to explain that wouldn't be smart in case he lost airflow and his response is something along the lines of "Ill Die A HAPPY MAN"

-🧁Anon

Love, love, love, this—ty cupcake anon🙏 I apologize for the wait! I’ve found myself writing multiple works at a time.

TASTE LIKE HEAVEN

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X PLUS-SIZE!FEM!READER

GENRE: SLIGHT ANGST, SMUT

WORD COUNT: 0.8K

WARNINGS: BODY INSECURITIES FROM READER IN THE BEGINNING, ORAL FEM RECEIVING, FACE-SITTING, ASS SLAPPING

AUTHORS NOTE: I JUST LOVE WRITING CUNNILINGUS, KEEP IT COMING

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE CONVINCES HIS GIRL THE BEST WAY TO GO IS DEATH BY FACESITTING

—

Hobie is tall and lanky. He knows that how you feel about your body is something he may never understand, but he absolutely loves you and is willing to try.

Your body is so incredibly beautiful to Hobie in ways that he can’t even put into words. When he’s found you staring too hard in the mirror or at skinnier women, getting insecure when shopping for clothes or continually struggling to find an outfit because you’re having a bad body confidence day, it absolutely wrecks him.

The two of you were currently making out in his room, lying on your sides. He had noticed how shy you had been with sex these past weeks, and he wanted to help you—even if it meant walking you through taking a step out of your comfort zone,

“Luv, ‘wanna try something.” He states, out of breath from your kiss. He nestles a pillow under his head and lays back, grabbing your hands and guiding you on top of him.

“H-Hobie, I-“

“C’mon! It’s alright, I want you to.” He assures you, looking up into your eyes like you hung the stars—gaze full of admiration and eyebrows pinched in desire. You allow yourself to at least get on his lap, confused when he, still fully clothed, starts to remove your shorts.

“What are you thinking, Hobe’s?” You ask with a teasing sigh. You were nervous. You knew Hobie hated when you refused to do certain things out of insecurity or fear over your weight compared to his. Hobie ‘couldn’t give a rats-ass’ as he has said previously. You still felt anxious. You were now nude waist down, and Hobie got a mischievous glint in his eyes that made your stomach drop,

“You’re gonna sit on my face.” He said casually like it didn’t send a chill up your spine,

“No. Nonono, Hobie that’s not a good idea.” You instantly attempt to shut it down, moving to get off of him when his hands lock on your hips, his surprising super-human strength catching you off guard.

“I know you’d have the time of your life riding my face, darling. Just let me show you how good it can be.” He begs, squeezing your hips. Hobie would truly never make you do something you don’t want to do, but he knows you’d love it. He understands that you’re just struggling with the idea of resting your full weight on his face.

“What if you…can’t breathe?” You mumble, trying to make up an excuse despite the throbbing you feel between your legs. Hobie instantly lets out the most seductive laugh you’ve ever heard, his hands tightening on your hips and shaking you slightly, his gaze falls back on you before he simply smiles and says,

“I can’t think of a better way to go.”

Before you knew it, he was guiding you through it, your pussy right above his face and your hands on the headboard.

“Give it to me, luv.” Hobie groans. His eyelashes flutter closed as you gently sit on his face, your thighs around his head. He hums, expertly eating you out the moment you’re in his reach—your moans filling the room. His tongue is everywhere, his hands moving your hips with a steady rhythm, helping you ride his face just like he wants.

“Atta girl, baby,” He moans into your pussy, “Fuck my face, doll.” Hobie messily eats you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and his grip on your hips tight. He slaps your ass and fungus fucks you, his eyes up gazing at your fucked our face. He notices your desperate panting and whines of his name, looking down at him with your face heating up from the overwhelming pleasure. The sound of his mouth working on you, the heat in the room, the feeling of his warm tongue in your tight pussy—it’s almost too much to handle—but the aching in your thighs as you desperately try to not rest your full weight on Hobie is worse. Suddenly, you feel his hands snake around your thighs and pull you down onto him as if you weigh nothing. You gasp and moan brokenly at the feeling, Hobie letting out a deep primal noise and slapping your ass, urging you to ride him. You pause a moment to look down at his face, only his eyes visible with you using him as a seat. Your hips slowly start to move on him, Hobie nodding in approval as you ride. The feeling of your orgasm nearing clouds your senses, your hips rapidly thrusting on Hobie’s face as you moan his name into the room,

“Hobie!~” You moan his name as you cum, your hands gripping the headboard as your lover drinks you up. Your head falls back, lifting yourself up a bit and taking deep breaths as Hobie licks the mess up. He kisses your thighs before you fall over onto your back, your clit pulsing and your head spinning. Hobie smiles and kisses you, the taste of your orgasm all over his tongue and lips. He pulls away, and the tent in his pants makes your pussy clench around nothing. Hobie leans down and kisses you where you’re sensitive, chuckling

“Have I ever told’ja you taste just like heaven, luv?”

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x you #hobie brown angst #hobie spiderverse #spiderman #silly’s fics

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snoopyana · 2 months

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love stroke.

“you and i get weighed down by the things we can’t do.”

two best friends who want to step outside of their comfort zones. two best friends who trust each other with their lives. two best friends who will do anything for each other. two best friends who experiment with each other. two best friends who kiss when no one is around.

park jisung. fluff. smut.

sprawled out on jisung’s bed, your jean shorts and tank top clung to your body like a second skin. the heat was close to unbearable, giving you a taste of what being on the sun would feel like. the humming of the rotating fan buzzed in your ears as you laid there. the sound of jisung shuffling around on the floor making your eyes flutter open. but he was no longer seated on the floor — now leaning against the bed, his face a few inches from yours. “i’m bored.” he whispered while poking at your cheek. earning a small huff before you began to move your body.

pulling his head away, he gave you room to sit up. propping yourself up on your elbows, your attention was back to the man that was now below you. sweat glistening on your skin — you were quick to swipe at the thin layer that lined your face. “and what do you plan on doing in this weather ji?” the sun blared through his curtains, helping to further solidify your point. nodding his head in defeat, jisung joined you on the bed. nudging your arm to give himself more space.

once you were both fully situated, taking up basically every inch of his small bed, it dawned on you that he was blocking the fan. the once cool breeze on your body being blocked by his larger frame. “ji, you’re gonna give me a heat stroke!” raising up again, you planted your hands onto his side, making an attempt to get the man to lay down flat as he was currently laying on his side. but instead of rolling forward, he pushed his body back. causing him to crash down on-top of you.

laughter filled the small room as you shuffled around underneath him. he stayed on-top of you for a moment, staring at his ceiling fan before rolling himself off. “sorry, didn’t know you were there.” jisung covered his mouth as he spoke, laughing into his palm at your delirious state. shooting him a deadly, yet playful glare, you begun to use your fingers to rake through the messed up strands of hair. reaching out, he helped you smooth out a few fly away hairs. dragging his fingers through your hair before they made their way to your cheeks.

cupping your face in his palms, you two stared at each other. sitting on your legs, your hands gripping onto his forearms as he sat crisscrossed in front of you. the breeze from the cracked open window and still rotating fan blowing his hair every which way. in that moment, neither of you seemed to mind the heat. no matter what happened, it always seemed like you ended up a little too close to each other. slowly, jisung lowered his face towards yours. eyes searching for any sort of hesitation that ultimately was never present. the boy lowered himself until your noses grazed each other. your eyes flickered between his, waiting for the next move. waiting for a kiss.

but instead, he gripped onto your cheeks with a little force, squishing them together until your lips were forcefully puckered. leading to the goofiest smile to creep onto his lips as he watched your expression morph from one of admiration to confusion. gripping onto his arms with the same force, jisung let his heads drag through your hair and plant themselves onto your nape.

“i hate you.”

“love you too.”

tilting his head, jisung planted small kisses on the corners of your mouth before reaching the entirety of your lips. pulling you closer by the neck, you melted away in his hands, your own hands snaking up to grip onto the loose t-shirt that he dawned — pulling him closer by the cloth. his tongue poking at your lips, asking for entry and you gladly obliged. your mind becoming groggy from the lack of airflow. but you didn’t mind. not one bit.

but he was minding. pulling away from your lips with a pop, jisung took in a shaky gasp of air. eyes blown out, lips puffy. that’s probably how you looked too. “can we..” stopping himself, the male hesitated. you two had only ever made-out. the both of you definitely weren’t virgins, just never going any further in fear of getting attached. “can we do more this time?” his fingers rubbed cross the skin of your neck. waiting for an answer, but you didn’t say a word. looking up at him with a dazed look. just by your expression, he was quick to start taking what he said back, slightly panicking as he spoke. “but if you don’t want to, we don’t have to! i can just drop you off at your place and we can forget it even-“

“yeah. we can go further this time ji. but not too far.” empathizing too, you meant no penetration. maybe next time, but right now? it was still too hot to be body to body — and you weren’t exactly in the mood to be hot and sticky. letting out a sigh of relief, he rested his forehead against yours. placing a kiss in between your eyebrows, jisung whispered to you, “does that mean i can use my fingers?” giving him a quick nod, you were pushed down on your back. sinking into his measly two, yet fluffy, pillows.

he was quick to unbutton your shorts, tugging them past your thighs and off your legs completely. placing the clothing onto his nightstand, he did the same with your panties — this time keeping them safe in his back pocket. hovering over your now partially naked body, the boys nerves really started to spike, as if he was a virgin again — touching a girl for the first time. hesitation in his touch as his hands grazed against your thighs.

his breathing surpassing yours, even though he wasn’t the one being touched. his eyes darting up to yours, yours that was already waiting for him. “i’m going to be completely honest with you,“ halting his actions, his hand hovered just above your cunt, “i’m so fucking nervous right now.” bringing your hand up to your mouth in an attempt to not laugh in his face, you didn’t say a single thing. but you kept eye contact while sliding your other hand down your body to meet his. both pairs of eyes flickering down to watch as your hand wrapped around his wrist. guiding the limb towards your very needy hole.

“now do i have to guide you through it all like it’s your first time or do you know how to use your fingers?” cooing at him, he took it as a challenge. wiggling his hand from your grip and sliding his ring finger through your folds. the action sending a shiver up your spine. lowering his head down once more to let his lips meet your neck. his middle and ring invading your insides while you were focused on his lips sucking and kissing at the skin of your neck. the sensations mixing together, causing a belted whine to slip from your lips.

wasting not a second, jisungs’ rather lanky fingers were frantic. curling and sinking into you at a reckless rate. you couldn’t possibly last long with the amount of stimulation. and his thumb hadn’t even found it’s way to your clit. but it definitely didn’t need to, your body arching into his from his fingers alone. as he marked up your collarbone with red and purple blotches, you were making his arms with angry red crescent shaped indents. “ji! ‘m gonna cum slow down..” oh but he was lost in the moment, his digits never once faltered.

when you started to clench around them more than before, he finally came to. disconnecting himself from your now sensitive skin. he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, “you look so pretty right now, prettier than ever.” and oh boy, that’s all you needed to be sent over the edge. your climax hitting you like a brick, seeing stars. the brightest stare being jisungs face as he smiled down at you. he brought you down from your basically earth-shattering orgasm, flopping over next to you.

“jisung… i’m really hot right now.”

“oh yeah? i call that a love stroke.”

“oh my god…”

note- two fics in a day? guys i’m feeding you well. please. i really wanted to write for nct and jisung was my guy. i fairly enjoyed writing this and i hope you more than fairly enjoyed reading this and got past my HORRIBLE jokes. that’s the only thing i will apologize for. hugs and kisses, yana!! (also are we digging the snoopy dividers??)

#luvyujun #nct dream #park jisung #nct smut #nct jisung #nct drabbles #nct imagines #i got very carried away bc i love silly jisung #nct x reader

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the-travelling-witch · 7 months

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𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄

summary: just some short and sweet cuddling headcanons

pairings: mammon :: belphie :: barbatos :: dantalion :: valefar (my ocs) x gn! reader

warnings: only me playing favourites again ♡ + one teeny tiny allusion to lesson 16

obey me! masterlist || similar post: kiss me more

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

After your first week in the Devildom, Mammon’s understanding of personal space is as follows: His personal space is his and your personal space is also his. The rest of the brothers love to poke fun at him for it but he’s glued to your side now, throwing an arm around your shoulder or using your head as an armrest whenever he sees fit.

So it should come as no surprise that, once he basically moves into your room after making a pact with you, he’s going to cuddle up to you every chance he gets. In his defence, this is most likely unintentional, seeing as Mammon nearly flings himself out of bed at the realisation that you had been leaning on his shoulder for a good chunk of the movie you were watching, sending snacks flying everywhere.

Once your relationship becomes more settled and the white-haired demon owns up to his true feelings more, however, his reactions to cuddling are less dramatic. Yeah, you’ll still have to be the one who asks and deal with his aloof reaction but that’s okay when he can’t look you into eyes as he hides his face behind his hand and makes no fuss when you drag him to bed. Soon thereafter, it’s basically like he’s trying to melt into you though, as much of him touching as much of you as is humanly and demon possible. He’s also a living furnace, which is great in a realm where the sun doesn’t shine.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐄

Yeah, good luck ever getting up again, I hope you had no plans for the rest of the day or the following ones, for that matter. As the king of ‘five more minutes’, Belphie is going to keep you in bed with him way longer than you anticipated, courtesy of the iron grip he has on you even while asleep. Sure he told you it’ll only be a short nap but honestly, you should know better by now.

On the plus side (was the beginning even a downside?), you can lay down in whatever position you want to because Belphie will just contort himself around you, making you question whether he actually has bones. If he cuts off your airflow again, it’s because he plopped his entire weight down on you just to snuggle up to your chest like an overgrown cat.

You made the mistake once to card your fingers through his hair and it lulled him to sleep so fast he now practically demands you do it every time. Whether it’s pouting at you or just taking your hand and putting it on his head, he’ll make it known you’re neglecting your poor demon if you don’t. Still, cuddling with Belphie guarantees you the best sleep possible; even if you wake up super disoriented, not knowing which year it is, at least you’re well-rested (Insomnia? We don’t know her).

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒

Congrats! You managed to pry Barbatos away from babysitting— I mean serving Diavolo! Your reward is seeing the busy demon relax for once in his long life.

The air is infused with the soothing fragrance of tea leaves as your cups happily steam on the bedside or coffee table, depending on where you choose to snuggle up, the tea never going cold thanks to Barbatos’s magic.

Another rare thing to see -or rather to feel- are his bare fingers trailing over your sides, dipping under your clothes to trace random shapes onto your skin as you rest against his chest. Every now and then, he’ll bow his head down to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head, not hiding how his lips curl into a fond smile. While he loves to take care of you and draws energy from it, if you run your hands through his hair and lightly massage his scalp, his usual composure will give way to a demon who’s putty in your hands.

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍

This man only has the best silk sheets and will coax you into sleeping over more often than not. Sure, he could visit the House of Lamentation but why would he set himself up to be interrupted by those nosy brothers (no offence). Besides, you’re always running around appeasing their whims, you should take a break and let him spoil you.

Cuddling really is just a part of an entire routine of destressing for him. From sharing a meal to washing the dirt of the day away with a shower or bath to changing into soft, top-quality loungewear or pyjamas and snuggling up on the couch or bed, this demon will make sure you’re not lacking anything. The lights in his house seem to always dim to the right brightness and colour and there’s calming music playing from somewhere.

But, of course, cuddling doesn’t have to be an orchestrated act every time. If you ask him to hold you he will gladly do so, cooing at you or talking about his day if you want him to. Despite taking the shape of a peacock, Talion’s voice is actually incredibly soothing and he chuckles quietly whenever he lulls you to sleep with it. He’ll even fan out his tail feathers over you if it makes you happy, even if it means rustling them in the process. Smoothing them out again is well worth it for the way you run your fingers over them as you study their colours in awe, both your silent and verbal praise making him preen with pride.

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐑

Valefar wants to be the big spoon, not only because he feels like he can protect you this way but also because this way you wouldn’t notice his heated cheeks. It’s not like he’s insecure to the point where he thinks you holding him would undermine his masculinity, he just needs to hold you close in peace after a stressful night at the casino.

But it’s all good, his defined muscles make for a comfy pillow and if you fall asleep watching TV, he can easily pick you up and carry you to bed without disturbing you. Whenever you cuddle, he also always lowers his voice to a husky murmur, the vibrations of which will travel from his chest to your skin.

In the tranquil moments where it’s just you and him, Val loses all the brashness he’s feared for, his calloused hands hovering over your form as if he’s scared he could hurt or taint you. Just take them in yours and settle them on your hips, squeezing them encouragingly to tell him ‘It’s okay’ and he’s falling for you all over again, especially if you pair it with a chaste kiss on his cheek. As a greed demon, however, once he’s had a taste of your affection, he will take everything he can get, now coming up to you out of the blue, hugging you from behind whenever he sees fit.

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#obey me #obey me shall we date #x reader #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me oc x reader #mammon x reader #belphie x reader #belphegor x reader #barbatos x reader #dantalion x reader #valefar x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me mammon #obey me belphie #obey me barbatos #┊om! oc: dantalion ೃ༄#┊om! oc: valefar ೃ༄

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thehmn · 7 months

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Okay so chihuahuas shouldn’t be be kept as fashionable purse dogs, but then what type of person should have them?

Dogs of course have different personalities and I know a lot of people with disabilities consider them perfect because they like to cuddle and are unlikely to suffocate or knock people over, but in my experience they’re also perfect for people who like to explore both nature and urban environments. And even though they shouldn’t be purse dogs, pet backpacks with plenty of airflow that also conceal the pet a bit are a must, like these.

Once the dogs realize the backpack means adventure they’ll throw themselves into it as soon as it’s place in front of them and off you go. That’s one of the reasons why chihuahuas are perfect for all sorts of exploring. They’re easy to transport to any destination on any kind of transportation. I ride my bike everywhere and my chihuahua loves all the smells zooming by, exactly like a dog sticking its head out a car window.

We bike to forests, towns and the seaside, she’s let out and can explore either on or off her leash depending on the area, and in my experience most shop owners are cool with you bringing your dog into the shop as long as they’re well behaved and in a backpack like the ones I showed because that way they can’t touch anything, their fur wont get everywhere and if they aren’t super obvious they won’t bother other people. That’s why seeing eye dogs are allowed. They’re so well trained they won’t cause trouble. And if they won’t let you in there’s no reason to make a fuzz, you just find another shop.

The backpack also makes it easy to switch transportation. I’ll get off my bike, jump on a train, let my chihuahua stretch her legs until the ferry arrives and soon we’re on a small island.

And just like people are more okay with a feral house cat that sometimes attacks people than they would be if a cougar wandered into town, people are generally more understanding if you accidentally break a rule you weren’t aware of with a small dog. I’ve let my dog off her leash in an area for months because I thought it was allowed and luckily I didn’t get in trouble because she is small and well trained so people weren’t bothered by her and when someone finally told me they were super nice and calm about it.

I am of course living in Denmark and my chihuahua is a reasonable size which means the only predator that could possibly be a danger to her is a fox which is why I’m comfortable letting her off her leash in nature areas. Other countries would probably be less safe for her.

But overall, can highly recommend a chihuahua if you have a relatively active lifestyle and likes going on short adventures 👍

#humontalks #chihuahua #dogs #life with pets

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goldenamaranthe-blog · 1 month

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Puppy Fight: Chaggie ft. Emily

Puppy Love part 3 / Jazzercise part 2

Charlie: (hyping herself up and shadow boxing as she walks into the new hotel gym) Alright! I got this! I've been working on my cardio. Just a few more sessions before- *SCREEEEEEEEEECH!!!!*

Vaggie: (wearing even shorter spandex shorts than last time, wrist wraps, and her sports bra, grunting as she works through a set of Muscle Ups, body absolutely slick with sweat) Eighteen!!!..... Gah, fuck! .......Nineteen!!!

Emily: (hair tied up in a messy bun, powder blue, long sleeve, skin tight exercise shirt, and navy blue shorts that cut off just below her glutes) Come on, Vaggie! You got this! One more!

Vaggie: (takes a deep breath, scowls as she grits her teeth, and nearly roars as she muscles her way up and over the bar into a full extension) Twenty!!!

Emily: (jumps and squeals excitedly) Woohoo! You did it! (makes another check on a whiteboard) That's three rounds of twenty muscle ups, fifty mountain climbers, and 100 jump-ropes!

Vaggie: (drops to the floor with a sigh, wipes her face with her black sweat rag, and takes a drink of water) Thanks for helping me push through, Emily. I was kind of surprised you even showed up. Charlie didn't have another group exercise planned for a couple more days when the next meeting with Heaven came up.

Emily: (staring bashfully at Vaggie's muscles) Oh! Well, you know! I figured it would be good to come down early! You know. Catch up with Charlie. (eyes scour over Vaggie's abs and shoulders) See the sights.

Vaggie: (suddenly feeling a little naked) Riiiiiiiiight.... Well, I'm gonna go hit the showers. Thanks again for the help. (quickly jogs towards the door and stops as she sees Charlie) Hey, Babe! I didn't know you were going to be working out today. You should have said something. I would have waited for you. (shifts her eye back at Emily)

Emily: (awkwardly looks around to make sure she isn't being watched before she sneakily takes the sweat rag Vaggie left behind)

Vaggie: (whispering back to Charlie with a slight blush and a wink) We could have shared a shower after.

Charlie: (heart throbs painfully) Dammit! How did I not think of that before now?!

Vaggie: (chuckles before kissing Charlie lightly on the cheek) Another time. I'll be sure to save you some hot water. Love you. (slips through the door and jogs up to their room)

Charlie: Love you too~ (eyes dart to Emily as soon as the door closes and she zips over to the pull up bars with a smile painfully plastered on her face) Hi, Emily!

Emily: Yipe! (jumps and hides Vaggie's rag behind her back) Oh! H-Hi, Charlie! H-How are you?

Charlie: I'm good. I'm good. (obviously not good as her tail slithers along the floor behind her like a snake ready to strike) I wasn't expecting to see you for a few days.

Emily: Oh! Yeah, well, l-like I told Vaggie. I figured I'd come down a little early so we could catch up!

Charlie: (sickly sweet tone) Well, what better way to catch up and build a bond than by exercising together?! (wraps an arm around Emily's shoulder tightly and leads her over to the treadmills) How about it, Emily? I'm sure you guys up in Heaven exercise all the time!

Emily: (balks) Actually, Charlie, I'm suddenly not feeling the greatest. I think I got teleportation sickness.

Charlie: Then a light jog should help you get that good airflow that you need. (pushes Emily on a treadmill and takes the one right next to her before turning them both on and ramping up the incline and speed to 5/10 and 6/10) This should be a good warmup, right?

Emily: eeep!

-Later-

Charlie: (sitting and soaking her dead legs in an ice bath with a whine-growl)

Vaggie: (brings in a protein shake and hands it to Charlie) And what did we learn?

Charlie: (growling and baring her teeth like an angry puppy as she takes the shake) To mark every last inch of your skin the week Emily arrives. (all sad and sappy) She's still my friend! (back to snarling as she takes a sip of her drink) But she needs to remember that you're MINE!!!

Vaggie: (blushing) ......Did I completely miss something?

-In one of the guest rooms-

Emily: (whimpering as she soaks her noodle legs in a hot bath) Owie.... (stares at the sweat rag on the bathroom sink) ......*sigh* Worth it. I'll have to apologize to Charlie later. I think she liked those rainbow sprinkles back in Heaven.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel incorrect quotes #chaggie #rainbowmoth #charlie morningstar #puppy charlie #possessive charlie #vagie #emily #puppy emily #puppy love #crush #clueless vaggie #jazzercize part 2

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mistyresolve · 9 months

Note

Could you do a part 2 of "Takedown" with actual smut please? it was so good 💗

| Close Quarters

Word Count - 2.2k

Summary - It's Friday, which means you'll be busy later today helping out Ghost with his training. Only, you didn't expect to see him as early as 4 am. Nor did you expect him to leave you breathless and on the verge of begging for more.

Tags/Warnings - 18+ Smut, Dirty talk, Heavy petting, slight Voyeurism, Grinding, and Edging?

A/N - I could take him...just not in a fight

Takedown

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It was 4 a.m. by the time you got to the training room; most of the lights still turned off for the night. Leaving only the front half of the room illuminated, the back half was visible but still shadowed. Which was fine, it was the reason you came here at this hour. There was never anyone else to worry about or share equipment with. It allowed you time to think. Focus. Work through the stresses of the week without interruptions.

That was how your days normally started.

Unless there was someone else lurking in the shadows of the gym. Like there was today.

A large dark form was hanging from the pull-up bars, their ankles crossed over each other. Hammering out pull-ups like they were nothing. They hadn’t noticed you come in, their attention on their reflection in the mirror to monitor their form and technique. They were wearing a hoodie, large enough to conceal what muscle might be hiding beneath it. The hood up.

You squinted at the reflection in the mirror to try and catch a glimpse of who it might be. Only their face was half covered.

If the male wasn’t wearing shorts you might have just shrugged it off and started on your own workout. For if it weren’t for said shorts you would have missed the familiar tattoos on his right leg. A patchwork of art that descended past his sock and disappeared under his shorts. He explained some of them to you once. Your eyes fell to one in particular. A statue of a female body. Her wings outstretched behind her and curving around his thigh. Her strength was still perceptible despite her head and arms being missing, those pieces of her departed her during sometimes of the statue's lifetime.

A hauntingly beautiful depiction of The Winged Victory of Samothrace.

When you asked him to explain that tattoo, Simon shrugged and stated that he “simply liked it”.

He lowered himself back to the ground, noiseless aside from the soft tap of his shoes hitting the floor. He rested his hands on his hips, his wide shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath.

You debated slipping out of the training room before he saw you. Turned in your direction before you could make up your mind. He was reaching for the towel hanging on the bench behind his when he froze. His eyes find yours in the dark. The was no shock or surprise in his expression.

Then you realized you could see his expression.

He was still wearing a mask, just not the one he normally wore. This one was an altitude mask. Designed to mimic the effects of high-altitude environments and restrict airflow to the user, forcing the lungs to work harder. Commonly used for conditioning.

You tried it once. Nearly died.

Simon was doing a better job at handling the effects of the mask than you did, but he was still heaving for breath.

You raised a hand to him in “hello”, offering him a small smile.

He pulled earbuds from his ears, the sound of his music audible from where you stood. Well, there’s the reason as to why he didn’t hear you come in.

“What are you doing up?” his voice was muffled slightly from the mask.

You dropped your gym bag on the floor next to a bench of your own, “Same reason as you, I suppose,” you took a seat, kicking off your slides, “You sleep well?”

He shook his head as he made his way over to you, “Didn’t sleep at all. You?” He definitely looked tired, something you could see even in the dark. His accent always gets a little thicker when he is nearing his limit. His words slurred together, a verbal representation of what his thoughts felt like.

As he neared, you could make out more of his face. He looked younger than you had imagined. Softer, even. He still looked like a battle-hardened male, with strong edges and chiselled features. Just…less pirate-esque.

He was handsome. From what you could see.

You had to force yourself to look away from him. This was the most of his face you’d seen and it felt like you were seeing him naked. It felt personal.

“Just an early bird. Did you just get here?” you toed into your shoes, leaning down to tighten the laces. You felt flurry butterflies in your stomach when his own shoes came into your line of vision. His proximity had you reminding yourself to behave. You’d had boyfriends and lovers before, but none of them made your toes curl like Simon Riley did. None of them made you dizzy with a mere look your way.

“Got here a little while ago,” it was strange to see him outside of the usual military garb. It was stranger that it was strange. You’ve been working with the 141 for almost a year now and don’t know any more about him now than you did when you met him. You understood his personality and the complexity of him. His mannerisms have also become familiar to you, but you didn’t know very much about his civilian life. Or his life before the army.

He leaned his shoulder into the wall next to you, his arms crossed over his chest, “What are you working on?”

“Just cardio today, I’m still a little sore from you throwing me around the other day,” that and later today you’d be back to helping him with his training, “How much longer do you plan on being here?”

“Sick of me already?”

“No. Not at all,” you breathed out a laugh and looked up at him from your seat. His eyes were heavy as he looked down at you. You didn’t allow yourself to decipher whether it was from exhaustion or something a little more carnal. He was close enough to you that if you slid off the bench and onto your knees you’d be at just the right height to—

“I’m meeting up with Price in an hour,” his rumbling voice snapped you out of your fantasy.

You stood up from the bench, turning to face him fully. He watched your every move with fervored intent, his gaze dragging down your body, “Why? What do you need?” he drawled.

The air in the room turned heavy as the two of you exchanged desperate, wordless pleas. This wasn’t the first time you and him found yourselves in this situation. Both of you fighting the urge to devour the other. Neither was brave enough to take the first step.

He had an hour…

You took a step closer, close enough that if you lifted a finger you’d touch him. He stilled attention wholly on you now. With chilled fingers you lifted the hem of his sweater, running them up his still sweat-covered skin. You could feel his muscles retract at your cold touch, but he leaned into this feeling rather than pull away. He hissed and his eyes squeezed shut, his expression wanton. You dragged your nails across his chest, and one of his hands shot out to grasp yours, “What do you need?” he asked again, this time his voice dripped with honey.

…You could work with an hour.

“You,” you breathed, the hand he left free sliding down to his waistband. You stopped before going further, head tilting to the side. You weren’t going to go any further until he said it was okay.

He began to nod his head, “Take what—”

The doors to the training room creaked open and entered a soldier. His head was down, bobbing to whatever music was playing in his earbuds. The room was too dark for him to see you two clearly back here, but panic still exploded in your chest. You jumped back from Ghost like his skin burned you, your gazes locked onto each other. His eyes were wide. Wild with excitement and shock. You had a feeling your expression matched his.

The soldier walked into the bathroom, blissfully unaware of the two shadows at the back of the room. Who were mere moments away from heavy petting and grinding.

Your mood deflated, but when you turned back to Ghost, his breaths were coming in fast.

Oh.

He had been eager for you to touch him. The heavy bulge outlining his shorts was evidence enough. You feared your blush was bright enough that it was glowing.

“Ghost,” you started but he was already reaching for you, pulling you until you were flush with him. Where you could feel his hard length for yourself, feel it press into your abdomen. He made an experimental roll of his hips, searching for any time of friction.

“How quiet can you be?” he huffed, his hands sliding from your arm to your ass, lifting you to your tippy toes so your core was closer to his.

You stifled your moan with a hand, which should have been answer enough, “Not very.”

Then he was moving, “Grab your stuff,” he was already moving to grab yours when his phone rang. The noise was offensive, and he swore when he took it out of his pocket. He shot you an apologetic look before answering, “Captain,” the heat in between your legs studdered and annoyance took its place. You could see his own frustrations at the situation, and at whatever Price had to say, “Sounds like a shitshow.”

You plopped back down on the bench, defeated. Price would be whisking Ghost away now. When Ghost turned around to you one more time, you saw your opportunity. You quickly lifted the front of your shirt, flashing him.

First, there was shock, but it was quickly followed by a cheeky grin. Not that you could see it, but you could tell it was hiding beneath that mask. He reached out a hand, his fingers dancing across your exposed skin. You shuddered underneath him as he rubbed a thumb across your hardening nipple. You bit down on your lip to keep the moan from spilling from your mouth.

“Yeah,” he spoke into the phone, but his eyes were on you, analyzing your every action and reaction to him. You arched into him, and he immediately understood. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your hands dropped to between your legs, pressing your fingers into your weeping cunt through your pants. A wet spot already appearing. Your other hand covered his cock, using your whole hand to rub at him.

He groaned but quickly covered it by clearing his throat, his brows knit together, “Understood,” he promptly hung up the phone. He jerked his chin at you, and ordered “Let me see.”

You spread your legs apart, fingers still making slow circles. He grabbed at both your wrists, holding them away from both yours and his body.

“You have no idea how bad I want you right now,” he growled.

“But you have to go,” you taunted.

If Price called him at this time of day, it was probably urgent. Especially if they were going to meet in an hour anyway.

He didn’t have to say anything for you to know you were right, “You’re not to touch yourself until we’re alone again.”

He had every intention of finishing this off. He just needed to go deal with whatever Price was needing him for. And he wanted you to be desperate for it when it happened. He wanted you to be thinking about him all day. He wanted you to be a mess for him.

“How long will that take?” you twisted your hips, bringing yourself to the edge of the seat, using it you grind yourself on. He yanked you up off the chair. He wasn’t going to allow you to have any sort of pleasure.

“I’ll be back for the training this afternoon,” he maneuvered you both so you were standing in front of the mirror, your arms now pinned behind your back, shirt still hiked up. Your chest, fully exposed. He towered over you from behind, his presence remained domineering. You watched yourself in the mirror. The position was entirely submissive. Vulnerable. He had barely done anything and you already looked fucked out.

He pulled your arms tighter so your back bowed, his free hand coming to cup a breast, squeezing hard, “Say it,” he ran his hand to your inner thigh, this thumb grazing your now throbbing pussy.

“I won’t touch myself,” you were about to start begging him.

“That’s a good girl,” he purred.

The soldier from before walked back out of the bathroom having changed into his workout clothes.

Ghost made no move to cover you back up. The soldier still had yet to notice you two at the back but your heart still hammered against your chest. Adrenaline flooded your bloodstream once more.

Finally, he pulled down the front of your shirt for you before letting go of your wrists. You nearly collapsed to the floor, your knees threatening to betray you. He guided you back to the bench, “Get out of here before I change my mind and I end up being late.”

Hand to Hand

A/N - I have every intention of making a third part to this. But I want to make this as immersive as possible so you guys are going to have to wait just like the reader 😈

Taglist - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0 ❤︎ @purplefishingline ❤︎ @dog55teeth ❤︎ @meaganjean ❤︎ @mymommmy ❤︎ @xheera ❤︎ @lockleywife ❤︎ @crunchlite ❤︎ @ryethebrokengae ❤︎ @mychrysanthemums

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #cod x reader #mw2 #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #ghost smut #cod smut #mw smut #mw x reader #mw ghost

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alemi-i · 8 months

Text

stars in your eyes :

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

# lmh x afab : reader ! ( fluff + smut )

cw : smut , exhibitionism , nonidol!au , degradation ( f rec. ) , slight overstim , creampie , brat reader , minho is a brat tamer though , face slapping ( 2 ) , namecalling : slut , whore , baby , brat . unprotected sex ( don’t try this at home ) !!

a/n ; hehe 🤗 im not very confideng witb my smut writing skills so JUST KEEP THAT IN MIND BEFORE READING….

wc : 1,726 ?!

an arm encased your body, resting around your waist. camping with minho and his members felt extremely therapeutic to you.

the sun had already fallen, and you all had watched as it sunk into the ground. what you were truly waiting for was the shining stars that would litter across the sky.

you first discovered your passion for stargazing when your sweet boyfriend took you out during midnight, so you both could admire the glitter in the sky; you weren’t sure whether to look at the stars that strayed across the sky, or the star that beamed just by your side.

admiring the sparkles, you hear shuffling beside your and minho’s bodies, your head cocks up to see seungmin and jeongin heading towards their tent.

“i’m off to bed!” seungmin declared, lips forming a light grin as he sees jeongin trail after him. everybody exchanges a goodnight to the two youngest boys, and your eyes meet with one particular star.

“d’you wanna head back to the tent too?” minho asked, voice hushed and honey-like. you simply nod, grinning the same way he does. “me and minho are off too!” you announce, both of you are quick on your feet, hands and fingers interlocking.

“goodnight!” he exclaims, waving everyone goodbye as they greet you both goodnight.

he drags you into your shared tent and you both lay down on the blanket that pillowed your sides.

minho spoons you whilst gently running his hands through your hair. you feel your eyelids flutter, on the verge of closing shut– until you feel a tug at your scalp.

you whimper, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to stifle any other sounds that could escape. your hips grind against his, feeling the suppressed bulge in his pants push against your ass.

“what’s wrong baby? you’re grinding all over me.” he teases, whispering into your ear. “m-min..” you try to find the words, but your tongue falls short, instead releasing a breathy whine as he grinds into your back rougher.

“cat got your tongue?” he taunts, halting his movements to let you breathe.

“yeah, you.” you spat, panting heavily from the stimulation. your head turns to face minho, who has now sat up. you turn to lay on your back.

he raises a brow, eyes narrowed and dark. he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “don’t be a brat,” he growled. “you and i both know it’s only me who could make you feel good.”

he was right, but no way were you going to admit that. “yeah right, you wish.” you retort, ignoring the wetness that dampened your cotton panties.

his hand wraps around your neck, the other coming down to smack you across the face. you wince, mouth agape and cunt throbbing. he pulls you up, fingers tight around your neck, restricting your airflow.

his gaze is heavy on you, making you feel smaller than you already are. his tongue pokes at his cheek. your vision is blurry from the lack of air– his fingers finally leave your neck to grip your jaw.

“you think you’re better than me, hm?” he questions, your eyes locking with his.

“you know i am.” you mutter, a grin forming on your lips. you weren’t sure where you were getting this confidence, but it felt good to finally put minho in his place for once.

he chuckles, releasing you from his hold. “then show me.”

your eyes are wide, and he cocks a brow. “what? y’want me to repeat myself?” he mocks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.

“shut up– i know what you said.” you hiss, shoving the waistband of your shorts between your fingertips and pushing it down.

he sucks in a breath, staring at the way your pussy has absolutely drenched your panties. he looks at you expectantly, and you quickly succumb to his gaze; your panties are off in not more than a second, and you whimper at the way your hot cunt is exposed to the cool air.

“what are you waiting for?” he sighs, feigning disappointment. “won’t you show me how good you make yourself feel?” his voice is thick and taunting you.

“s-shut up.” you mutter, yet your hands travel down your body anyway, shivering at your own touch.

your fingers find your clit, rubbing soft circles around it. your whines pierce through the silence.

minho shoves two fingers into your mouth. you instinctively begin sucking. “stop being so loud would you? the other members are trying to sleep.” your mind backtracks, had he cast a spell on you? how did his words alone erase such significant memory.

“or, is if that you want them to hear?” he whispers, and you’re quick to shake your head ‘no’. your free hand spread the folds of your cunt apart, your whines muffled by the fingers in your mouth.

you quickly shove two fingers inside, fucking yourself on them. you quickly realize the stimulation just isn’t enough– but your dignity is on the line here. you push in a third finger, moaning at the stretch.

“does it feel good, hm?” his eyes glancing at your wet, finger-filled cunt. you hum, signaling yes. “better than this?” his fingers exit your mouth, producing a pop sound.

your eyes travel to his hands, that are quickly unhooking his belt buckle. he tugs down at his pants, revealing the black boxers you watched him put on earlier that day. you continue thrusting your fingers in and out, eyes locked on his bulge.

his cock is throbbing beneath the cloth, and your pussy becomes wetter. you bite your lip watching his boxers being pulled down, releasing his hard cock. you suppress a moan, eyes lingering on the dick you know too far and well.

his tip is angry; flushing red and leaking precum. you observe the way it twitches whenever your fingers sink knuckles deep into your cunt.

“y-yeah. way better than that.” you lie through your teeth, hand rubbing quicker circles on your clit. it felt good– however you couldn’t help but desire his fingers inside you instead.

“lying slut.” he lowly grunts, a sharp sting spreading across your cheek. your whimpers increase in volume, before they’re suddenly turning into begging and babbles.

“fuck.. min– ‘m sorry! need your cock, please–“ “i-i lied, please fill me up!” you continue to beg, tears dripping down your face. he pulls your fingers away from your cunt; you’re whining at every single touch that’s his. his fingers, his hands, just his.

“you think you deserve my cock after being such a brat?” he spat, voice hushed to prevent waking someone up.

all you could respond with are rambled apologies, praises, begging.

“so dumb and i’ve barely even touched you.” you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you can’t bring yourself to snap back.

“‘m so s-sorry, min!” you cried, before you’re suddenly moaning loudly, whining at the sudden stretch in your cunt. “s-shut up, dumb whore.” he pants, sharply thrusting into you, walls slippery and tight.

your hand covers your mouth as you spew muffled moans into it. though, you quickly notice that the stimulation didn’t feel fulfilling.

he deliberately thrusted into you, just missing your sweet spot. each thrust getting louder, faster– but not exactly deeper.

“what’s wrong baby?” he taunts, his voice is breathy and rough. your hand leaves your mouth, still biting back moans that threaten to spill.

“min.. min, deeper!” you sob, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. your eyes roll back.

thankfully, he doesn’t resist, allowing his tip to kiss and poke at your sweet spot; your walls closing in tighter around his dick and your eyes squeeze shut. he groans, pounding into you with little mercy. your walls are squeezing him, while his fingers grip and bruise your hips.

“stupid slut, i thought you didn’t need my cock, huh?“ he hissed, hips stilling as he’s deep inside you.

you whine, grinding against him. “‘m sorry, can’t live w-without your.. c-cock.” you whimper, your eyes flutter open to see his gorgeous face.

he scoffs, thrusting into you again– harder. “that’s right, can’t live without my cock, hm?” your cunt clenches around him, and you feel him pulsate against your walls.

“oh shit.. so good baby, feel so good around me.” he praises, and you moan in content. “f-fuck min! g-gonna cum!” you sob, squeezing him tighter. “shit,” he drags, head thrown back. “d-d’you really deserve to cum, hm? after being such a brat?” he groans, hips stuttering slightly.

“g-gonna be good, i promise! p-please, wanna cum..” your whines grow louder, as you’re inching towards your orgasm.

“then cum.” he commands, your body subconsciously obeying. you see stars flickering over your vision. your juices drip down onto his cock, but he doesn’t stop his thrusts.

“you’re finished when i am.” he whispers, although it’s obvious he won’t last long.

he drags his cock against your fluttering walls, he’s throbbing inside you making you clench around him. you moan loudly, overstimulated and unbothered about the fact your friends are just next door.

“shit– gonna cum. you’re gonna take it, okay? take my cum like a good fucking slut.” he curses, voice thick and gruff.

you babble multiple “yes”s, repeatedly squeezing around him to milk his cock. “want your cum!” you sob, squeezing him one more time before he’s dumping his hot seed in you. you whimper, wincing as he’s thrusting his load deeper into you.

once he pulls out, you whine at the feeling of emptiness.

“you okay?” his touch is now gentle on you: pushing the uninvited strand away from your face, wiping the droplets of sweat off of your forehead, and gently pressing a kiss to your lips.

you nod, slightly shaking from the ‘workout’. smiling when minho’s arms embrace you as you doze off to sleep.

you’re awoken to the sound of giggling and yelling coming from outside the tent. you look around and minho isn’t by your side. you pout, before sitting up and unzipping the flimsy entrance.

before exiting, you notice you’re dressed in minho’s shirt. it hangs upon your body loosely, but you feel so warm in it.

you struggle to get out, legs slightly wobbling. the sun flashes your eyes, and as soon as your presence is noticed, everyone bursts into shouts and laughter.

“minho!” the seven boys teasingly yell, all in synchronization.

once your eyes adjust to the light, you see your boyfriend’s face hiding in his hands, and ears flushed a deep red.

so they heard.

#skz x reader #skz fluff #skz smut #lee know x reader #lee minho smut #lee know smut #skz imagines #lemi’s fics !! 😽

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yuellii · 4 months

Text

FLOWERS, ONE TO MY REMEMBRANCE.

scaramouche / gn reader, merry christmas @adiluv :)

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

He speaks these words with a lightened, innocent charm. A sparkling crinkle in his eyes so unadulterated and wholehearted. The Wanderer’s voice is like a new baby’s breath to this old, torn world.

And you—there’s electric in your heart, and a strum of curiosity stemming from your heartstrings to your brain. A smile so unknowing and hypnotic in the way it sends butterflies to his stomach in mere instances. In all the years he’s spent wandering the seven regions and the seven elements, he truly believe he has not felt love until this moment.

With your eyes so new and so kind upon him, oh, he might’ve truly found the purpose of the heavens within you.

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

He speaks these words with a curious type of stunned silence. He’s enchanted in a way, a feeling wherein he can feel his knees begin to crumble at the mere sight of the details of your face. The Wanderer feels weak, as if he’s falling in love at first sight.

“The Wanderer…” you ponder quietly.

He feels his cheeks flare up at your voice. His lips feel glued together once he hears you speak for the first time, completely taken aback from the hypnotic aura you radiate. By laws of nature, he feels like a moth to your flame in which he, as a wandering soul of old, feels he can truly find you in every universe.

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

A bitter taste resides on his tongue.

You turn to look at him, and he feels this uncanny sense of familiarity within the depths of your eyes. The soul in them: he suddenly feels as if he’s stared at it a million times before.

He’s thinking of crumbling away about now.

“The Wanderer…” The taste of his title on your tongue, the sound of your voice—all of it falls unbearably recognizable. He can feel his breath catch short within the cages of his lungs, however it is not one he desired. Somehow, he feels as if this improper breathing should’ve been soul-crushing in a way that was loving, and not the blatant fear that suddenly settles in the taut tightropes of his beating heart. “Have we…” you voice out, the sound of each word stealing more of his airflow away from his lifeline. “Have we met before?”

The rising intonation at the end of your sentence sends a shiver to his spine when he processes your words. He feels clammy, sweaty; but he’s made of wood—he shouldn’t sweat? He shouldn’t be feeling like this? But you were no evil, no… So he should not be filled with this sense of hesitant alarm.

“No…” says he, reluctantly so. “Not that I know of.” He attempts to say this gulping with confidence, however he fails in this aspect—in fact, he sounds as if he is nervous, speaking with shaky breaths. It was clear that even he himself did not believe his own words. No, not that I know of; and yet he felt like he’s known you for every previous life.

“That’s so odd,” you miss, finger quite innocently falling upon your bottom lip in ponderance. “I can swear I’ve seen you somewhere before, but I cannot currently recall…”

He coughed. “You must be mistaken.”

What originally drew him to you like a moth to a flame now killed him. And he felt near-death in this moment; a sensation in which he feels he should run far away from you, no matter how clueless you seem right now. All that mattered was that he recognized you in a way that felt dangerous, like it should not be happening.

He excuses him, and runs off at your confusion.

“I knew I’d find you here. Luckily so soon, too.”

Kunikuzushi, or Scaramouche—not that he could bother to care much right now—whipped his head around in horrific shock. The Dendro Archon stood there right at his tail, looking up at his disgruntled eyes in disappointment.

“Do you know who you are right now?” she continues, approaching so calmly. His startled fingers ball to fists in frustration, glaring at her from the side of his face with his back turned in what seemed like anger. But only Nahida knew, truly: he was more than ashamed now. “Am I speaking to the Wanderer, or who you really are?”

He scoffs. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying your questions are?” he insults, much unlike the Wanderer.

“Oh, so it sounds like you remember everything,” the Archon states. Her tone is almost one of giggling, yet she does not make much haste when approaching him. There is no ridicule or spite in her words, her voice instead much sounding like a caring older sister getting ready to scold him. “That’s good. Makes my job easier.”

“What do you want from me,” he commands from her.

She walks without a hop or skip in her step; there no playfulness in her approach, just a slow resolve. He isn’t sure how much longer he can eye her as she comes forth—his heart is racing right now, and he needs to stop it desperately so. He is but a puppet: he is not familiar nor is he fond of this suspenseful feeling.

“Well,” she started, finally standing still next to him, “we both know why you’re here, standing right in front of Irminsul.” He flinches at her words. “How many times has it been now, Wanderer? Five? Forty? Hundreds?”

“That’s none of your business,” he snarls at her, turning his face away. But still, he stands ashamed, balling his fists constantly as if he hoped his nails would break his inhuman palms until they impossibly bled. “It isn’t my fault, you know.”

She hummed. He wanted to punch her from this sound alone—she should not assume she knows his reasonings as well as he himself does. “But as a man who is a new human”—he feels himself almost hurl from the lecture—“you need to learn how to handle human issues in a human way.”

“But no matter what, I am not human,” he tells her. “This is all I know to do.”

“Erasing yourself over and over again is not the answer, I fear, Wanderer.” And this is where she almost giggles at him, and he feels more embarrassed, converted to anger. But he could not deny this. He could not deny that he was stupidly resetting the world and it’s memory of him.

Stupidity, unfortunately, was his opinionated best shot.

“Just one more.” It was like a beg. “Just one more, because I was seen.”

“I’m called the Wanderer.”

You looked at him surprised, and he hid his face under his hat in embarrassment. You immediately notice how his stance is completely changed from before, demeanor like shifted to a different person.

“Oh!” you notice surely. “You’re back—you left so abruptly earlier…”

He somehow feels more ashamed than before. This was his millionth first-meeting with you by now, and somehow the most humiliating one. There was something about meeting you like this every time—being erased of his own memories by himself, slowly remembering his own memories, and crying out because he’s entangled himself with you once more. And that’s when he breaks down, and resets the world all before the Dendro Archon catches him.

And now, here he was, standing here like a middle schooler forced by his mother to apologize to a girl he liked.

“Sorry…” he seethe through gritted teeth. He really isn’t sure how to continue this conversation with you. In his own head, he has all these memories of your first relationship, and of all these first meetings, and you… You were just meeting him like a stranger.

But when you look at him all the same, a different sense of familiarity in your eyes… He feels it may be different this time.

And, he might just allow himself to love you now.

MERRY CHRISTMAS I LOVE YEWWW

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader

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cosmerelists · 5 months

Text

Cosmere Characters in Costco

The title says it all, really.

[Previously: Cosmere characters in Ikea]

1. Wayne & Marasi

Marasi: Wayne...is that another new hat? Wayne: Why yes, dearie. I'm now Egrid Sternsberger, a little old lady who simply must try one of those mini hamburgers! Marasi: ...I think they'll give you multiple samples if you just ask. You don't have to keep switching hats. Wayne: Now, where would be the fun in that?

2. Shallan, Veil, Radiant

Radiant: Now, remember--it requires a majority vote before we make any big impulse purchases. Shallan: This vodka bottle is the size of my torso and will therefore last a long time. Veil: That's a good reason. Radiant: ...I'll just get another cart.

3. Ham and Dockson

Ham: Hey, do you know where Kelsier went off to? For that matter, where's Vin? Dockson: [Points silently upwards, to where Vin & Kelsier crouch on top of those big, metal, Costco warehouse shelves, mistcloaks rippling] Dockson: They like to be high. Ham: W-We're inside! How is there a breeze?!

4. Lift & Wyndle

Lift: Man, that was great! Lift: I stole food from every one of those little stands and nobody caught me! Wyndle: Mistress, like I keep telling you, those stands are giving away the free samples! There was no need to-- Lift: I am the greatest thief of all time!

5. Painter and Yumi

Painter: Please let me get another cart. Yumi: I said we don't need another cart! Painter: Y-You've stacked the cart so high that people are afraid to come within six feet of us! Yumi: Who do you think you're talking to? I can go way higher than this! Painter: Yumi please

6. Adolin & Kaladin

Adolin: Ta-da! What do you think? Kaladin: About your...clothes? Adolin: Yeah! It's all from here! Adolin: I got shorts with lots of pockets, this colorful buttoned shirt, this big hat, these sunglasses--even these cool plastic shoes with holes for airflow AND these socks! Adolin: I am going to revolutionize fashion. Kaladin: ... Adolin: What? Even Wit liked it! Kaladin: I'll be going now. Adolin: Wait! I got a matching outfit for you too! Kaladin come baaaack!

7. Tress & Charlie

Tress: Wow, this one is amazing too! Tress: It's a bit bent and a bit stained, but you can really see that it's been on a journey. Tress: Oooh! This one's an interesting shape! I think it was for strawberries! Charlie: Man, and to think they just give all of these cardboard boxes away for free!

8. Navani & Rushu

Navani: That is...quite the tower of toilet paper. Rushu: How do you suppose they get the top ones down? Some kind of machine, presumably? Do you think it's stacked for space efficiency or is it meant to inspire awe, as well? Rushu: ...Should I take one from the bottom to see what happens? Navani: ...Just grab one of the ones with the bear on it, for now. Rushu: Later then?

9. Rock & Skar

Rock: I love this place! All the food is sized for a while squad! Rock: Look at this! It's a cooked chicken the size of my HEAD! Skar: I found a rack of ribs that would take two men to carry! Rock: Tonight's stew will be a true wonder.

10. Nale and Szeth

Nale: And here is what I wanted to show you--this icon of justice. Szeth: ...A hotdog the size of my forearm? Nale: Yes. Nale: Do you understand what I am trying to teach you? Szeth: Hotdogs are...justice? Nale: This one is. Nale: The owner declared that the price would remain in stone, and that no change would be permitted while he yet lived. Nale: Lack of change? An enduring ruling? A man willing to stake his life on it? Nale: It is a hotdog of justice indeed, Szeth.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Wayne #Marasi #Lift #Wyndle #Dockson #Kelsier #Vin #Nale #Szeth #Rock #Skar #Navani #Rushu #Ham #Tress #Charlie #Adolin #Kaladin #Veil #Radiant #Shallan #Yumi #Painter

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nouearth · 10 months

Note

Keep up the good work, on behalf of the all the male readers on the app WE APPRECIATE YOU💖💖💖

angst with bruce wayne x malereader, where reader and bruce end up fighting cause reader kills the target on a mission their on. And bruce ended up injuring reader badly and putting them in the hospital. Days later when reader is finally able recover bruce apologizes and they have make up sex.TOPBruce wayne x BOTTOMmale reader.

If you wanna add any kinks that's up to you...

hi, anon! even though i just started, i appreciate you for even taking interest in my blog! it means a lot!

as for you request, i finished! i did have to change a few things, like bruce injuring the other. it just felt too toxic, in my opinion, but i hope this satisfies you!

you're here.

pairing ; bruce wayne / batman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, batman. word count ; 3694. genre; angst & smut. rating ; m. warnings ; arguing, blood, description of wounds, fighting, head trauma, mention and depiction of death and trauma, pwp, rimming (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), spitting, unprotected sex, top!brucewayne, bottom!reader.

one—THWACK! two—THUMP! three—CRACK! four— CRUNCH. five—THUD. six—SPLAT.

you repeat the sounds in your head. there’s still a small chance that the culprit is still alive; a lie of hope that you convinced yourself of as you lie on the pavement exhausted, catching up to your staggered breath before moving again.

when you crawl back towards the man, the adrenaline wears off and a groan of pain draws from your dry throat. you hiss when the wet pavement bites back at the open wound in your hand, and again when it scrapes against your limp leg as you drag your body closer to the criminal. your body sustains even more unfound injuries, but the ringing in your ears cloud your thoughts—your curiosity.

sluggish in movement, you take the man’s pulse.

nothing.

you’re desperate and you attempt again.

no pulse.

again.

you repeat this cycle about five more times and you want to cry. as much as you despised the wanted criminal for taking the life of your parents in the past, the night wasn’t supposed to end with a death. if anything, you expected to be that very body that was devoid of life, anticipated it even. but the longer you stared into those eyes—eyes that gloated over your parent’s death, over the loss of many more lives—you realized they no longer haunted you.

nothing. those eyes hold nothing.

he’s nothing now.

two sprawled figures bask in the thundering rainstorm, yet only one can see, hear, touch, and feel.

you remember losing the fight, your head was clubbed with a bat. your arm and hand were slashed. your ankle was twisted over a clumsy mistake. and then you fell, calling for help multiple times through your earpiece. he climbed on top of you and large, calloused hands wrapped and squeezed around your throat, cutting the airflow between you and life. you did your best to fight him off, but it only fueled his strength as he devilishly laughed at your suffering—laughed at the likely possibility of escaping into hiding again, into killing again. you didn’t think it would happen, but it did.

you saw your entire life flash before your eyes as you struggled for air.

memories—great memories of your parents appeared in quick flashes as you had remembered them, treasuring you with all their love within those short ten years before their violent deaths. you even saw your boyfriend. for the little amount of times he smiled as the caped crusader, he made up for it as bruce wayne. you’ve doubted his love before and maybe he was a great liar, but those memories proved otherwise. you were loved. and now, you are still loved, and you didn’t want that taken away from you again. before you knew it, your hand desperately searched for whatever you could find around the surrounding area. a brick, you presumed.

and the rest was history.

you crawl away from the body and lie in the alleyway as you wait for bruce’s arrival, repeating your location through the earpiece. he grunts in response, gunshots echoing in the background. you assume he’s still fighting off the gang that interrupted the three of you earlier. it was the perfect distraction that led to the criminal’s escape—a chase that you’d quickly catch up to when bruce told you to go.

it’s not long after until your solitude is joined by the shadow of the night. a draft blows into the air when the caped crusader jumps from the ledge and into the alleyway, his black cape dragging along wet pavement as bruce heavily makes his way towards you. “you’re hurt.” he says with calmness, but your tearing eyes induce worry.

“where is he?” he bombards you with similar questions about the man and your condition, slight frustration in his tone when you’re unresponsive, but he scans your body of wounds out of worry—necessity, and communicates through his earpiece. “base, sending you my location. make sure a doctor is on standby at the medical center.”

the detective in him naturally has him study the surrounding area, walking in puddles of water, searching every corner, and treading farther away from you until he stops in his tracks.

a body, one that sported a familiar face. at least, what bruce could make of a face.

“he’s dead…” you weakly declare, watching him with guilt and a heavy heart. even with the cowl on, you can see bruce’s expression. you knew you had broken his rule—a key element of his moral code: no killing. that was all he asked. he trusted you as you had trusted him.

“what do you mean he’s dead?!” bruce’s voice is harsher upon your revelation, a disbelieving hoarseness crescendos. he squats, examining the body at a closer view, hoping to find a fault in your assessment. after testing his pulse numerous times, he turns his head to you like a predator in the night. “i told you from the beginning that-“

“listen, i can explain-“ you stared motionlessly straight ahead, shutting your eyes when you can hear his trust being broken.

“i told you from the very beginning that this was a bad idea.” bruce restarts, making a point to not interrupt him. he breathes out his words slowly, an obvious attempt to remain calm, and marches towards you. “this was why. if you would’ve just let me handled it-“

“it was in self de-“

“i get that you want justice—for your parents, for the victims, for people like you who had to suffer the consequence of his own sick pleasures.” his cape swallows his large body whole when he squats down, leveling eyes with you. a gaze pierces your own with bitter coldness and disappointment, and you smolder with indignation.

cowering your gaze, you watch his hands—shielded by gauntlets—expertly scout the medical kit hidden in his utility belt. “but no matter how heinous the crime is, no matter how much it keeps you up at night, you control yourself. “ he sprays his diluted mixture of alcohol onto your hand wound, sparing use for the other open injuries you’ve sustained. “you let the legal system—the public—handle bringing criminals to justice. we simply help them.”

a tear breaks free when the alcohol bites at your skin, and the rest followed in an unbroken stream. he’s right. you should’ve controlled yourself. the first two hits were sure to knock him out, but you kept going, and going, until the criminal stained your conscience with his final breath. “if… if i hadn’t, i would’ve died, bruce.” you whisper weakly, lips bitten back to hold in emerging hiccups. you knew you weren’t supposed to use his real name, but this was no longer a conversation between you and the creature of the night—but you and the light of your life.

“i-i couldn’t walk. i couldn’t escape. and i couldn’t breathe.” you swallow, catching your breath. “he had his hands around my neck and…i called for you, but i-I guess it never picked up and…” tears burn in your sinuses and your throat goes dry again, coughing out sobs as you recalled the persona of death itself looming over your suffering body.

he’s silent, occupying the loss of words by patching your remaining injuries up. in the absolute stillness of the world, bruce conjures up alternative scenarios where death wasn’t the ending to this dreadful night. even if he had come, your injuries were more severe than he thought, and you would’ve lost blood—too much blood.

the world moves again as silence is shattered by a siren blaring proud. its flashing lights welcome your tears with comfort and when you turn back to look at bruce for the second time, he’s gone.

it’s hasn’t been long since you’ve returned to your apartment. after a month or so of recovering in the hospital, it was nice to return to your daily life. instead of rehabilitating your leg first thing in the morning, you’d cook yourself breakfast and watch the news, taking it easy for the next few weeks.

bruce would visit the hospital as much as he could, but you were too drugged out to have a proper conversation. since you came home, he’s been distant. you’ve spent more time with alfred and while you didn’t mind having the older gentleman around in the morning (and occasionally scold you for having such a disorganized place), you missed bruce. he would text and call in place of his absence but it wasn’t the same. you needed him.

“and right on cue…” you amuse yourself as a phone call from bruce rings, bringing you back to reality. “y’ello?”

“i’m coming over.” he bluntly states, an elevator dinging in the back. he must still be in his meeting this late at night.

“okay- should i order delivery or something?” you get up to quickly change out of your sweatpants and make yourself look presentable, but before you could, there’s a knock at your door and you beeline towards the entrance instead. “we haven’t tried that ethiopian place that just opened up yet.“

you swing the door open, anticipating your neighbor as they often shared dinner with you at this hour. “hey- oh.”

“hi.” bruce surprises you with a half-smile, raising up takeout of the place you were just describing. he enters tall in his form-fitting suit, tailored perfectly to the broad form of his body. for most of your relationship, you’ve mainly seen him dressed in leisure or as the masked vigilante. you were always taken aback by how extra handsome he would become when he was ‘bruce wayne, proud owner of wayne enterprises.’ today was no different.

you shoved your phone into your pocket and closed the door behind him. “y’know, usually when people say they’re coming over… they’re not already over.” you keep your spirits high as if your relationship hadn’t been affected by something as significant as death, taking the bag, you guide bruce to the dinner table.

a hug would’ve been a nice ‘welcome home’ gift. you think to yourself as you unpack the contents of the takeout boxes into separate bowls.

there’s an awkward silence as you do so. other than a few questions regarding your condition, bruce is quiet, eyeing you like a hawk, and you could feel his gaze from the corner of your eye. “did… you poison the food or something? why are you looking at me like that?” you humor the two of you to the best of your ability, but the only laugh that follows is your own.

“no. never. i would never do that.” though he knew you meant it in good fun, the thought of you in the hospital again—dying—awakens a sense of guilt inside of him again. “i’m sorry.”

puzzled, you look at him confused, brows furrowed in concentration of his words as you set utensils in front of him.

“for… not being there with you—for you.” guilt weighs his head down and he’s now staring into his lap, hands clasped together over the dining table. you watch silently in your chair, reaching out to blanket his hands with the warmth that you missed giving him. “i shouldn’t have told you to go after him. i could’ve escaped from the gang and gotten to you in time. i could’ve-“

“bruce, i don’t blame you. i never did.” a sigh escapes from your lips, your hand leaving his in favor of pulling your chair next to his. eventually you had to have this conversation and you wished it happened sooner. in an ideal scenario, it would’ve been in the hospital as you were recovering. “you know that, right? what’s happened, happened. i-i know you didn’t want me to, but i had no choice-”

“i could’ve lost you too.”

too, you repeat to yourself—his parents. a flash of remembrance is exchanged between the two of you when he looks up, eyes burned with red as he does his best to console his tears. it’s painful to see him like this, but all you can do is embrace him, suffocating your tears into his shoulder—his onto yours. “bruce…”

“but you didn’t.” pulling back, you place a gentle kiss on his lips and you both close your eyes after taking his hands into yours. “you didn’t.” you assure him, solacing the imagination of you gone from his destructive world with another kiss—harder—to remind him that you’re still here. “i’m here.”

“i didn’t,” he murmurs in between your lips before returning the kiss, continuing for longer. the positive affirmation possesses bruce to guide your body further into his in between switching locations to your bedroom, stumbling from the passionate exchange. “you’re here.” he holds you tighter as if the draft in your bedroom could take you away, only briefly pulling apart to undress in a hurry. the taller man kisses at your neck. bruce inhaling deeply into the scent of your skin that he long feared he’d forgotten while large deft hands roam your body, memorizing every hickey that he had left months prior. faded now, but he plans to renew them.

“careful.” bruce is observant, kicking the bag behind your feet to the side before he could lay you back onto the bed and press his bare body into yours again. “look at what you do to me.” he alludes to his hard cock, flushed against your own. you respond with eager hips, thrusting into the warmth that your bodies would share every time your cocks touched. you knew you could come right there if you looked, so you don’t. instead, you’re gazing into his eyes, pleasured by the way they would roll back as you two would connect thrusts in a desperate exchange. “one moment i’m crying over you, and the next…”

“i want to be fucking into you so bad.” his confession garners a genuine laugh out of you, and you lightly tug at bruce’s slicked-back hair, pulling only harder when his lips don’t detach from suckling on your neck the first time. the skin on your face and body is hot and you could feel your cock pulsate when he looks at you, lustful and desperate.

“then why aren’t you?” you tease in a whisper, your thumb gliding across his swollen lips before a lick stops your lone digit in its stride. bruce torments you with desire, maintaining eye contact as he sucks on the pad of your thumb, repeating the same process until he’s done the same for the rest of your fingers. “come on… slowpoke.”

satisfied that you’re now just as needy as him, he spreads you wide in midst of re-adjusting his position to kneel before you. his torso hunches over yours to leave wet and sloppy kisses over your pecs, staining your skin with additional licks as he works his way down. at times, his hand would leave your waist to stroke himself to the sound of your whimpers, but you’d stop him with a gentle squeeze to his wrist, reaching down to replace his hand with yours.

with your hand, you encircle his large cock with a loose wrist, sloppily spreading his pre-cum over your palm and you find yourself doing the same to your own erection. bruce watches you for a moment before pleasure possesses him to roll his head and shoulders back, basking in your skin-crawling touch and the sound of your moans. your mouth waters at the erotic view that towers over your body. the strong muscles in bruce’s thighs flex—harden—to maintain balance as he briefly bends over you to fetch the lube from your drawer. fuck. and his cock throbs—grows harder with your every stroke.

you’re brought closer when he rolls you onto your stomach, pulling you onto all fours and with a sweaty palm to your back, pushing your torso flat to the mattress and leaving your hips raised. large palms massage at your ass cheeks, spreading them open multiple times to admire the way you automatically tighten your ass when the cold draft clouds over your heated flesh. within seconds, your thighs tense when the air is replaced by a slow lick over your hole, drawing another soft moan out of you. “bruce, please… i need you. right now. stop-” you desperately plea, impatient for his sex. you’re unbearably hard right now, thick pre-cum leaking onto the sheets, but bruce didn’t care. he wants to admire you for as long as he can—admire every part of you with the wet muscle.

raw and intense noises of pleasure are driven out of you as he plunders you with his tongue. one hand leaves your ass cheeks to jerk himself off to your most glorious sounds, savoring the taste of your flesh with loud slurps and spitting inside of you once more, seemingly to mark you. he explores your insides with the intent to set off another heavenly moan that is music to his ears, practically drooling inside of you when he reaches from under to feel how hard you are—how much you’re dripping because of him. wrapping his hand around your erection, bruce strokes to the pace of his needy licks, diving nose-deep into your ass, inhaling and exhaling your delicious musk. “shit- bruce…“ you breathe into your pillow, sweat collecting at your headline as you’re embarrassingly writhing under his control. soon after, he replaces his tongue with his lubed finger, twisting into you with slow ease as he continues to lick at the ring of muscle, impressed by the firm grasp you have on him.

“god, i wish you could look at yourself right now.” he makes sure you’re used to his finger before suddenly pulling out, amusing himself with how your hole desperately clings to the loss of intrusion as you whine, tormented by his teasing. bruce returns inside of you with another finger, slowly working you in until he feels comfortable enough to twist and spread the two digits, repeating the taunting motion again that left your hole clenching and unclenching earlier. your eyes roll into the back of your head, rocking back into the steady rhythm of his thrusting fingers. “i can’t believe i have you all to myself…”

“fuck me, please…i need you.” the battle for your pleasure raged as you beg into the bedsheets, your body coiling tighter as your hole grasps at his fingers despite rolling your hips forward. “i need your cock, bruce. fuck.”

“since you were so patient with me…” butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach as you feel a loss of fingers, anticipating it to be replaced with something bigger, thicker. he leans over with gratitude and tenderness, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and your body spirals when it does. you ball the loose fabric of your bedsheets into your palms when bruce’s thick cock slides right into you in one, long delicious move, and letting go to sprawl your fingers out when he pulls his hips back, his grunts ghosting your ear when he drives his cock back in.

bruce’s pair of hands sit at your hips as he slowly rocks you into his thrusts. each movement has you taking more and more of him until your ass is pressed against his pelvis, enveloping him, drawing him in, and at the same time, pushing him out. you feel full, filled when he burrows his cock deep inside of you, and you imagine he does too, his erection growing larger and harder as he fucks your heat with a steady rhythm. he kept on, slowing himself when he draws you back into him, onto a kneeling position, and quickening once again when you find balance within his strong embrace. your head lolls back on his shoulder as you stroke yourself to his franticness, driving himself into you harder to gut another delicious moan out of you—another animalistic groan out of him. your moans are caught in your throat when he slots his lips in between yours, only exhaling when bruce separates the tender flesh with his tongue to absorb that heavenly sound of yours like an addict.

when bruce is close to coming, he pulls out and lets himself cool, utilizing the brief cooldown period to minister your cock with quick strokes, lubing the throbbing muscle with his spit in between pumps.

then he starts again, guiding his cock with one hand and deliberately feeding your pucker with his pre-cum before pushing back inside of you again. falling forward from the force, you roll your hips back into him, crying out his name as you’re desperate for his cock. bruce fucks into you faster, harder, with no intention of stopping, palming at your cock at the most sensitive glans because he can feel you’re close. his grip on your hip is strong, bruising, as he uses all his strength to make you come. your stomach sinks and coils in anticipation of familiar feeling coming to a boil at the pit of your stomach, fucking yourself back into bruce’s cock and then into his palm as you’re hopeless under his touch. you can feel droplets of his sweat drip onto your back, the smell of your musk and his thickening the air with breath-taking fervor, and the taste of heaven and stars when you cry out again, coming undone within his fist.

“oh, fuck..!” bruce doesn’t stop jerking you off. he continues to milk you with a forceful grip, beating you off to rhythm of his thrusts—to the sound of sticky sweat-stained skin slapping into each other—until he finally feels himself come inside of you in long, trembling runs. one last thrust, and the head of his dick hits that sweet spot of yours.

he shudders into you, exhausted, collapsing forward and calling your name in tremulous breaths. you exhaustedly turn your head to catch his voice in between your lips, moaning and kissing into his parted mouth as warm cum leaks out of you in slow drips, streams rolling down your thighs and onto its way to stain your bedsheets.

“you’re here.”

“i’m here.”

555 notes · View notes

fuckmyskywalker · 4 months

Text

❄️ 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝐭𝐡 : 𝐌𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 - 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.

— CW: 18+. Smut. Dead Dove Do not Eat. Noncon. Knife play. Blood. Dirty talk. Humilliation. Gore. Eroguro. | Word count: 0.9k (not proofread!)

— a/n: I know I'm behind, okay. I'm TRYING. Sorry if it sucks a little, it's 5 am.

— Anyafest 2023 + Taglist!

The crash against lightsabers was such a sweet sound to Anakin’s ears. Blue against red, the embodiment of good versus evil— but there wasn’t a sweeter sound for him than the sobs and cries emerging from your throat, paired with the skin-against-skin of his body against yours.

His leather glove feels cold against your throat, pinning you on the floor, cutting your airflow tight enough to keep you motionless, but not enough to force you to pass out from lack of oxygen. “You filthy, separatist scum,” He growls, his saliva splattering over your face. His eyes are filled with madness and anger, as he submits his sworn enemy to the worst humiliation he can. “Once I’m done with you— fuck— You won’t be able to fight without remembering this moment.”

You wonder how the tables changed in a matter of seconds. Victory was on your side, or at least that’s what you thought— such a foolish thought. You shouldn’t have called victory so quickly. He was stronger than last time— filled with rage and resentment since you were the one who ridiculed him and broke his wrist the last time you encountered Anakin in battle. Now, it was the other way around and it crumbled every ounce of dignity you had left. You could hear the battle outside the room he caged you in, the distant blasters and yelling. Everything so proper of a life like yours— yet those sounds sounded so distant at the same time, the loud heartbeat ringing in your eardrums preventing you from focusing on anything else.

Anakin’s free hand let go of your hip to whip it across your face, delighted by the sob of pain and how your walls clenched around his cock. “You fucking sick bitch,” He laughs, leaning down to watch more closely how your face contorted in a mixture of pain and unwanted pleasure. “All that fighting and for what? You are just a whore. You are nothing.”

His cock bullies your tight hole, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. It hurt, the ache was in every fiber of your being and at some point, you wonder if this is all just a nightmare— but when he slaps your face again, it’s almost like a wake-up call. This is very real. All of this. Anakin reaches for the necklace around your neck, finally letting go of your neck for a glorious moment; the pendant with the Separatist engraving bounces with every thrust, which seems to catch his attention. His finger hooks under the black chain, yanking it and digging the material into your skin. Coughing, your body tries to fight one last time, only to be cut short by a sharp, rough punch on your nose.

“Don’t fight it— There’s no way out of here.” It’s a promise, no longer a treat. You were never scared of Anakin. You always saw him as just a pathetic, pretty face. Always fighting for a pointless cause, competing without seeing the bigger panorama— until now. Every push of his cock breaks you a little more, despite the way your walls engulf him. It’s embarrassing how the wetness trickles down your thighs, how it coats his member with the unmistakable glisten of your arousal. Anakin lowers his blue eyes, which, unbeknownst to you, reflect a deep golden shade for a brief instant, admiring the way his throbbing length disappears in and out of you, along with the puffy, swollen sight of your pussy. Despite his restraints, he moans. A deep, gruff sound reverberates deep inside his broad chest, a sound that will be engraved inside your head forever.

Your toes curl, and you hate yourself for that. Your back arches and a stream of gasps fall down your swollen lips. Blood trickles down your nose, perhaps it’s broken— but you have no idea if you’ll be alive after this. You are under his mercy— he is the God who decides if you live or not.

Anakin catches a glimpse of the blade that still hangs from your belt, smirking and yanking it from the metal hoop. The loud click echoes around you and for a moment you experience the strangest relief— anything is better than this. Even death.

“I will k–keep my damn promise,” Anakin whispers, using the blade to cut the layers of clothing, freeing your chest. He growls at the sight of your breasts, swaying with the aggressive rocking of your spent body. “Every time you look in a mirror… you’ll remember me.”

Stopping abruptly, but keeping his cock buried deep, Anakin uses a strong, merciless Force grip to keep you still. Your legs and arms feel like they are being crushed under steel, itching your nerves and skin. With a trembling hand, the tip of your pocket knife digs into the skin of your right clavicle, puncturing the skin so easily it is almost laughable. Warm blood trickles down your chest, down to your ribs. Anakin ignores the cries of pain and the weak begging, nothing would stop him now. He drags the two oblique lines before connecting them with a small horizontal one, promptly carving the letter “A”. Letter by letter, your skin burns. By the time he reaches the letter “K”, the world around him is spinning. Your eyes blink hazily, as consciousness slowly leaves your mind.

Anakin notices this and pats your cheek harshly. “Wake up. I’m almost done,” He continues, flicking his wrist to carve the last letter, making sure to dig the blade deeper when he draws the last line of the bright, red “N.”

His favorite flavor was victory.

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