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aachria · 23 hours

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The long awaited (maybe? Idk how many of you were waiting for this) SSSBMTY College AU!

Majors in bold

Headcanons in regular text

Notes about the art indented in orange

Luffy — Undeclared

Was forced into school by his gramps. (The university dean. The fucking dorm building all the Strawhats but Jimbei live in is named after him.)(it was this or join the navy.) Takes the most random classes he can. Some of them are advanced and require perquisites and no one knows how he keeps getting into them. Wears shorts and sandals in winter & will run any errand or do any odd job for food. He has a very nice bike he got for free from a garage sale that Franky fixed up. There's a campus wide bet on when and what he'll choose as his major. His bucket hat was a gift from Shanks, the universities World Economics prof. Has a million friendship bracelets on his ankles because Ed makes them when they're stressed. Never has a bag on him. Fights Canadian geese on the way to class, like a fucking maniac. Protected species who?

When I tell you that this drawing of Luffy is the first time I've ever drawn actual feet with toes that don't look fucking ridiculous I need to cheer for me. Why is he a different flavour of boy every time I draw him please. His ass isn't rubber in this universe, of course he's scuffed to shit. Chopper ran out of Spiderman bandaids, sorry bud. Advocate for the Single Piercing Luffy™ agenda, he went and got it done with Ed when they got their helix.

Ed — English major Psychology minor

Took History of Piracy for easy grades & a story idea. Known around campus as that asshole who'll tell you exactly which of your roommates ate your leftovers for $5. Is roommates with Luffy because of a system mix-up when they got distributed. Always wears a Burberry trench coat Nami thrifted for $3 and gave them as a bday gift. Carries everything in a ratty falling apart messenger bag. Them and Luffy filled out marriage papers on a dare, Zoro (who got legally ordained on a dare minutes before) oversaw that, Zoro and Ed filed the papers when they were drunk. So Ed and Luffy are legally married. And they don't even notice until tax season and Jonah, Ed's accounting friend, asks about it.

I need you to ignore the inconsistence with the hands in these ok? Some of them get very nice and normal hands, and others get weird shaped blobs. Sorry Ed, them's the breaks kid.

Zoro — Health and Fitness major Mathematics minor

Literally no one knows why he has a Mathematics minor, least of all him. P sure he walked into the wrong class on the first day and just stuck with it. The most terrifying captain of the kendo team the university has ever had. He's won more championships and trophies in his tenure than the school has in its history, the revenue he brings in from sponsorships and such make them turn a blind eye to his... eccentricities (three sword style. Nobody has stopped him yet, anyone who says it's illegal gets penalized). Has had campus security called on him so often from being creepy when walking home from the gym in the dark there's a poster of him in the security office that says 'NOT ACTUALLY A THREAT. JUST WEIRD AND WALKS WITH PURPOSE.'

Zoro's sword patch on his jacket was designed by Usopp, embroidered by Luffy for a class (shittily) and fixed up and sewn on by Ed. Those docs have seen war. He has put them through hell. He has walked through a fucking river with those things, he superglues them back together every time they break. Franky had to strongarm him into getting the soles professionally replaced.

Nami — Meteorology major Finance minor

All of her clothes are thrifted designer things. Regularly terrorizes Value Village employees. Anything she has that isn't thrifted she gets from the many estate sales she plagues, snatching grandma's entire Chanel collection and all her nicest jewelry. She has absolutely everything anyone could ever need in her purse. Tampons and pads? She gotchu. Extra pens? It'll cost you, but yeah. A curling iron? Sure, why the hell not. She runs the betting pool on Luffy's major with Ed. She also writes a gossip column for the school newspaper and has a podcast she uploads a new episode to every few months. Shows up to every class looking like a supermodel no matter the time. 7am? Perfect. 10pm? Fabulous. Your go-to if you get locked out of your dorm. Has a moped but barely uses it.

Nami's bag is a large Prada Gallaria Saffiano bag, which I painstaking drew to accuracy down to the colour even though it still looks ever so slightly different, because Nami is a big purse girl. The compass rose necklace was a going away gift from Nojiko when she left for uni. I think her haircut is so cute I love her sm. Don't pay any mind to how fucking disheveled half of their lineart looks next to her pls.

Usopp — Graphic Design major

Not a member of the archery club, but shows up enough he’s in all the team photos. Was originally the designated driver, had a pretty little mini van they called the Merry, had one of those fucking fuzzy dice hanging mirror things in the shape of a sheep’s head. Got in a bad car accident and she got totaled by some jackass in a red Honda Civic. Dating Kaya, who’s a nursing student. They barely see each other because she’s so fucking busy and half the students are convinced the girlfriend Usopp is always talking about and calling is fake. The Strawhats have a dnd campaign that they run every other week, Usopp DM's. On weekends he works at an axe throwing range and holds the record for most bullseyes in a row. They have his picture mounted on the wall.

Usopp's necklace is the old key to the Merry, and he engraved his belt buckle for a project. I cursed his ass with the giant fuck off portfolio bag because those things are so big and unwieldy. The people in his program's studio never clean their paint up properly, that's why he's covered in it. Advocate for the Usopp With Gages™ agenda. God he is such a cutie patootie.

Sanji — Business degree

Literally grew up working in a restaurant, he’s only going to school to get the degree so he can open his own and also because Zeff threated to castrate him if he didn't get a higher education. Cooks basically every single meal for the dorm, since it’s just the Strawhats (it's a new (old it's old and was refurbished. Everyone assumed it was haunted.) building that they just dedicated to Garp. Has no other residents yet). Him and Zoro fight so much in their shared room half the time he ends up kicking him out and making him sleep in the community room lmao. He just shows up in half the culinary classes because he hates the business ones so much, the one time someone tried to tell him to leave he cussed them out for a full ten minutes while gesticulating wildly with a knife in hand. They never tried that again. Saw one of the profs berate a young lady for wearing a dress shirt to class because it’s impractical and proceeded to take that personally. Yeah he wears three piece suits to all his classes, he could still kick you ass in ‘em. Shut up. Volunteers to show around foreign exchange students because he can speak at least 4 foreign languages fluently. Is it to woo pretty French girls with his charm? Wouldn't you like to know.

I could not draw Sanji in a decent pose for the life of me, his ass was just not having it. He's got one of them really nice leather messenger bags with the lined pockets and filigree, he's very proud of it.

Chopper — PreMed

One of the few Strawhats who regularly sees Usopp’s reclusive girlfriend, and is very confused as to why people think she isn’t real. Still a literal child (is 15 still a child? Yeah that's like barely a teenager), a goddamn prodigy and got in with an incredibly good recommendation from the best doctor in the country, who just so happens to be his adoptive mother. He’s literally too cute for anyone to question that, plus he’s the sharpest tack in the damn class. He knocked his front tooth out ages ago (it was an adult tooth) but he's too fucking busy to get an appointment to get it fixed, just adds another layer to his babyface. Nice girls keep asking him if he's here to go see his parents or older siblings, he's endlessly infuriated by it and Sanji is endlessly jealous. Saved Ed from choking to death in a Domino's parking lot the first time they met, he dropped his pizza doing it so they bought him another. The rest is history. Does not feel cold, wears chunky boots year round. Got them reflective ass eyes like a deer, no one has ever taken a good picture of this child. He looks fucking possessed in his school ID.

TELL ME WHY I ALMOST FORGOT TO DRAW CHOPPER. I finished drawing Franky and was like "gee, only Brook and Jimbei to go! Good for me," and then I had to pause while looking as the picture of the group I was semi-referencing for heights n shit and was like "OH FUCK THE CHILD—" He's so cute tho. He's giving lil baby Goro Akechi. The argyle sweater vest and Timbs were a must, so was his hockey boy haircut. Matching backpack and tie for the win. Oh and the freckles, Chopper with freckles is everything to me.

Robin — Has a million hyper specific degrees. Currently earning her third doctorate.

Very mysterious and sexy. Mature student who occasionally gives lectures in the archeology program when she has free time. Owns a motorcycle but barely rides it. How is she not in debt after so much schooling? Don't fucking ask if you want to live. Is that why she lives in the dorm building? Do. Not. Ask. She and Luffy attend the same Theology class, no one knows how Luffy is passing with such good grades, but Robin is adamant that he doesn't take notes or borrow hers, and takes to having the same scores as him with grace. Child actor on one of those show like Barney (but not Barney dear lord) or Reading Rainbow and people only knew her as 'that kid with the creepy fuckin stare.' She was a meme a few years back, they called her the devil child. Every time someone asks her about it she just says she has no idea what they're talking about while giving them the creepy stare.

Women with Big Bags truther, right here. Robin deserves to be put in a suit. Goddamnit, get that woman in a suit!

Franky — Has a bachelors of Engineering, a bachelors of Architecture, and is earning his (water specific) Architecture degree

Currently the groups designated driver (after the tragic death of the poor Merry) with his supped up SUV, the Sunny. How do all the Strawhats fit inside? The power of love, obviously. That car will NOT fucking move if even one of the seatbelts is undone. Made Ed and Luffy wedding rings after he found out they accidentally got married. (Only after laughing for a half our straight, almost passing out, and laughing again. Then he cried for another hour about how beautiful it was.) He sometimes works as a nude model for life drawing classes on campus. Half of the the Strawhats have, in one way or another, seen him in the buck. Has knee braces from an... incident... with a train when he was younger. Now he volunteers at KidsAbility and has a shift on the campus crisis/suicide hotline. Huge advocate for mental health services at the school. He lives in the dorms for the ✨experience✨. Even worse than Luffy, mf wears booty shorts in the dead of winter. He's constantly dressed like It's laundry day. One of those guys from a famous Vine when he was younger that just gets stopped while he's walking so people can go "TRAMPOLINE VASE GUY??" (Iceberg was recording. I love Iceberg.)

Yes Franky is wearing an I ♥ MILFs shirt, what of it? It was a gift. Drawing him was an exercise in struggling with the pompadour and getting uncomfortably close to drawing Syndrome. Yes, he's cold all the time. No, he will not stop.

Brook — Literally no one knows. Something music related probably.

Fucker has been around forever, there’s old ass profs who swear to god they went to school with him and he hasn’t aged a day. Regularly plays local bars and cafes. Doesn't own a cellphone, he can literally only operate rotary phones. Computers confuse the shit out of him. Knows nothing about pop culture or recent events, but is up to date on everything in the music industry. He sometimes helps organize the old library archives because he's somehow the only person who understands the system they're organized in. Sometimes he'll just namedrop a famous singer/band he's either played with, done karaoke with, or done background vocals/instrumentals for and you have to guess whether he's telling the truth or just saying shit. There's a campus wide betting pool (run by Nami and Ed, go figure) on whether he's a vampire, ghost, time traveler, or Dorian Gray in disguise. Prepares the questions for 70s night pub trivia. Every time the Strawhats plan a ghost hunt he's busy, then at the end they find out that all the paranormal shit they've been experiencing is just him running his errands. It's happened at least four times.

Is Brook off-putting enough? I was trying to make him off-putting. He swears up and down the neck tattoo was gotten on a dare by Elton John, what, you gonna question a man who looks like he stepped out of Coraline? The skeleton gloves were a gift from Ed.

Jimbei — Has already graduated as a Marine Biology major Political Science minor and is taking both a Gender Studies course and a Peace and Conflict Studies course years later.

Teaches martial arts at a local dojo on weekends and volunteers with the martial arts team on campus. Robin helps him organize protests on weekends. He's good buds with a lot of the faculty and gets invited to after work drinks regularly. He helped establish a program that walks people who stay late at the library to their dorms when he was first a student that's still going strong to this day. Lives off campus and has the Strawhats over for BBQ on long weekends. Literally the only time the Strawhats eat food not made by Sanji. The Grill Master™. Somehow holds some kind of record or high score at every single bar/pub in town. Knows every single mailman and janitor by name. MVP of the catch and release fishing club, helps plan all of their trips.

I struggled with him. I struggled hard. That's a man who went his whole childhood with a horrendous underbite and only got it fixed once he was an adult. Ed gave him the fishing lure earrings out of guilt after he brought them on one of his fishing trips and they fell in and nearly capsized their boat. IT'S A REUSED PLASTIC BAG JIMBEI IS RESPONSIBLE ABOUT THE ENVIRONMENT—

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ghouljams · 2 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/ghouljams/749130351187820544?source=share

SOAP?!

If there is one headcanon that I should not have it's that Soap loves the sun. I know it's funny to think he burns like nothing else but I think he tans(mostly because I wanna lick the lines of his farmers tan who said that)

He's an absolute menace about it in the Cowboy au. While Ghost is out here getting burned, him and Goose are getting a nice glow about them. If no one else is at the farm you better believe he's out working on evening out those tan lines(the vane son of a bitch) especially if he's been told to wait on your delivery...

cw: predicament bondage, public play, outdoor sex, fingering, oral(m!receiving), religion play, dubcon, Minors Do Not Interact

There isn't anyone at the gate to greet you. Which is fine. You're used to doing deliveries when no one is home. That's why you ask for payment in advance. Usually the Price ranch is bustling though. Whatever. You hop out of your truck to open the gate and pass through, making your way down the gravel drive to the main house.

Goose said to drop the goods in the back, so that's what you do. Park in your usual spot out front then hop out to start getting this over with. You grab the bottles of moonshine she ordered off the back of your truck and take the familiar, well worn path, to the back of the house. You're just about to go up the steps to get the bottles settled when you spot him.

Johnny, in all his glory, lays on the porch. His eyes are closed, head tipped towards the sun as its rays cast shallow shadows over his torso. His chest moves with deep breaths, relaxed and enjoying his solitude. Your eyes follow the dark hair that swirls between and over his pecs down his abs and to the soft cock between his legs. You don't think you realized how much hair he had. It's dark over his thigh, between the soft muscle of his abs, over his stomach. You're staring, you know you're staring, but you can't help it. You've never seen Johnny when he wasn't hard, it's not like he spares any sweetness for you, and you'd always sort of wondered... Show-er. It fits him, he's so boastful normally of course he'd have plenty to show off in the locker room.

You snap your eyes back to his face when he moves, pushes himself up onto his elbows with a crooked smile. Your cheeks burn. "Gettin' an eyeful hen?" He chirps at you, and you storm back towards your truck. It's not the sun making you warm, you know that much, but it certainly feels closer to a sunburn than anything else could. True to form Johnny grabs you before you can reach safety, pulling you tight against his chest and curling over you, with his arms around your waist. He forces you to bend and accommodate his weight, your hips hinging back to press against his. You can feel the warmth of his skin even through your clothes, soaked in sunlight and with everything to show for it.

"Now why would you go runnin' off like that?" He hums, his voice all too close to your ear. You shake your head, try to avoid the way he nuzzles close, presses his lips against your neck. The gentleness shivers through you, you have no defense against it. Your fingers tighten on the jugs of moonshine you're holding just enough to remind you you're holding them. Remind you what you're doing here through the fog that is John Mactavish.

"I'm trying to make a delivery," You tell him, "didn't anyone ever tell you not to walk around naked where other people can see?"

Johnny hums against your neck, "You're the first one." You highly doubt that. You elbow him in the ribs and it does shit all. He's solid, barely lets out a breath at your effort. That hurts your pride a little, makes your blood run a little hotter too, but you ignore that part.

"You come to see me?" Johnny asks, like you didn't just tell him what you were here for. You don't rise to his bait.

"Absolutely not!" You bite back, giving him another elbow.

"You sure? Nothin' I can dae to change your mind?" He grinds his hips against your ass and you stiff at the press of his cock. Fucking hell. He's hard at the drop of a hat you swear. You're honestly not sure if Johnny's a man or a dog the way he paws at you.

"Bother someone else," You snap.

"Tell me to get off," He retorts. You- ok, well you don't really have a come back for that. The only one you could think of would be to tell him to get off but there's any number of ways he could spin that. (Not to mention how nice it is feeling him pressed against you like this, all cuddled up nice and warm from the sun. He smells like sunshine and hay, like the cedar of the porch and whatever sun lotion he was using.)

You take too long with deciding your next words and Johnny moves his hand to palm between your legs, dragging your skirt with his greedy fingers. He cups your sex and holds there, his thumb rubbing at the fabric of your skirt as your hips try to figure out which part of him to jerk away from. It's unfortunate how badly just the presence of his hand makes you want to beg. A gentle pressure against your cunt, more than pants, but less than what you want. Your skirt is in the way, you think that might be the issue.

You move to grab your sk- to grab Johnny's hand, and find again that your hands are otherwise occupied by the two jugs of moonshine. Johnny hums, rubs his hand, rubs your skirt, against your cunt. "This what you wanted hen?" He asks, voice a low rumble in your ear, his breath hot against your already burning cheek. He bunches your skirt up in his fist, pulling it up, up, up. Your eyes fix on the open gate so far up the drive, as Johnny's fingers trace over the edge of your panties, your skirt draping over his tattooed forearm.

He's just teasing the skin, feeling over the lace, waiting for you to shudder as chilly desperation rolls over you. He kisses your neck, strokes over your stomach, pinching the soft skin appreciatively. You make a soft pained noise, your hips pushing away from the feeling, back against his cock. You can feel the curve of his smile as he pushes his fingers into your panties. Skates them over your skin and down to rub at your clit. Heat pulses in your core as he pushes lower, peels the sticky satin away from your wet cunt and dips his digits over your entrance.

"Johnny," You huff, trying to keep your voice as far from whining as possible, "I'm holding somethin'."

"Then you better be careful not to drop it," is his even response. His calloused fingers stroke over your cunt, pulling wetness from your leaking hole up to circle your clit. Back and forth. He pulls up to circle your clit once, dips down to circle your entrance. A nice little figure eight going back and forth between where you want him and where you really want him.

You drop your head, watching the blind movement of his hand between your legs like you could get some idea of what his play is. You never know, he keeps you on your toes even on good days. Now your brows draw together in a pout, your hips following the teasing as the circles draw more and more heat in the pit of your stomach. You want him to press inside, you want him to rub your clit until you're shaking, you want him to do anything other than this. You whine the next time he circles your entrance and he stops.

"There she is," He coos, thrusting his finger inside, "can't hide from me, can you?" You shake your head, the way he pushes and pulls, in and out of your drooling cunt, your panties forcing the heel of his hand against your clit, is exactly what you need. You rock onto his finger, feel him curl and stroke at your walls. Thicker than your own fingers but still not enough. One finger just lets you know how empty you are, the grind of his hand against your clit making you clench around the digit as electric heat zips through you.

"You're so loose little nun," Johnny's teeth scrape against your pulse, his hand pulling back to press a second finger into you, "Been servin' our lord on your back, haven't ya?"

"Shut up," You whine. His fingers twist inside you, jab against your sweet spot so your stomach tightens and your fingers slip. The weight of your burden loosens and you rush to keep the jugs from falling. Your fingers tightening as you raise your arms from their place at your side. Hands out of the way you can't stop Johnny from thrusting his fingers into you hard and fast, twisting and stroking with each push. Your eyes roll, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You want to arch into the feeling but Johnny keeps you trapped where you are.

"Not on your back," Johnny tuts, "on your knees then. Warmin' the priest's cock in that bonnie mouth of yours." Your clit throbs at the dirty talk, your hips grinding against his hand for more. He keeps working you on his fingers, the rough drag of his callouses a delicious burn that you ache for more of. If it were his cock...

But it isn't. You chase the tingling heat the zips through your clit, the familiar drag of stimulation, and clench on the fingers that fill you. Johnny drags his tongue over your pulse, kisses your jaw, tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. His hips grind against your ass, a reminder of how his cock must be aching, you can feel it wetting your skirt. Your cunt clenches, Johnny pushes his fingers harder, jabs at your sweet spot until you're moaning. Leaned forwards with your legs starting to shake, and your hips rutting into his touch like a wanton animal. Desperate. You look towards the fence again.

It's a long drive, far from the road, but still. The sun beats down on you hot, and the air breezes past with a lazy pace that makes you wonder if God really is watching(and enjoying). Johnny seems to have similar thoughts.

"You hopin' someone'll see you?" If you couldn't feel his smile you could hear it, all teeth and mean, "Maybe they'd come help me ruin ya, split ya open on two cocks instead of one. Ya like that?" You shake your head and he hums. "No? Thought a whore like you would wanna see how much she can take."

"Just you," You mumble, whimper really, it's pathetic. You can't even think the words that tumble from your mouth, you can't say where they come from. But they seem to focus Johnny, make him hit that soft spongy spot near your entrance with more precision, make him coo in your ear and thumb at your clit.

"Just me hen, just me," He mumbles, softer, more possessive. His free hand travels up to squeeze your tit as he fucks his fingers into you with the same determination he usually reserves for his cock. "Ahm the only one that gets you, only one that can make ya come, and touch ya how ya want." You nod, your muscles starting to lock up with how tight your stomach is turning. The heat is unbearable, unmanageable, your legs shake and your breath hitches. "Come for me darlin', baby, lemme ruin these panties."

You do. You absolutely ruin them. You soak them, orgasm ripping through you and gushing. Johnny moans against your neck as you squirt on his fingers, barely keeping yourself standing as your legs turn to Jell-O. He only pulls his fingers from you to circle your clit, making you jerk into his touch as aftershocks pulse through you. You pant, your eyes unfocused on the world around you as your skirt falls back into place.

Johnny spins you around and you drop to your knees, his stiff cock bobbing in front of your face. The moonshine settled on the gravel you reach to grip his thighs. Warm skin, thick, dark hair. He grips the base tight, slaps it against your lips until you open for him. You don't even get a breath before he's shoving you down to the base. Thick cock stretching out your throat as you try to wiggle closer, tickle your nose with the thick curls at the base. "There you go," Johnny grins, cupping the back of your head, "cannae leave withou' your tip, can you?"

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #f!reader #oc: moon #cowboy au #mdni

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aeliuss · 3 days

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Home pt.2

warnings: deadly smut and fluff combo, fingering, breeding kink (Chan obviously), and I think that’s it? I’ve been in my soft hoe era so you’re all going down with me. Lemme know what you think!

(@chvnmax look!!! I did three pics side by side 😃)

part one

Chan who wakes up first, because he always does. But it certainly doesn't help that you're squirming and whimpering in your sleep, the sheets twisting underneath you.

Chan who at first thinks you're having a nightmare, and is genuinely concerned. But upon closer inspection, at the way your thighs are locked together, the way you let out a breathy little sigh that sounds suspiciously like his name, he realizes, a flush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

oh. oh.

Chan who is flustered at the slight twitch in his boxers. He swears that he's not usually this needy, but it's been four months and now that he knows that you're craving the same thing as him, he has to have you.

Chan who pulls you closer towards him until your back is flush against his chest and softly kisses the back of your neck until your lashes are fluttering open. He can feel the hitch in your breath when his hands find the hem of your shirt, deftly slipping under them.

Chan who chuckles when you say, "Cold," at his actions. Who murmurs, "Yeah?" while moving his hands up and down your tummy. "You'll warm them up from me, won't you?"

Chan who can feel the heat radiating from your body, a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. His fingertips trace patterns along your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he leans in to press soft kisses along your shoulder.

Chan who revels in the intimacy of the moment, the way your body fits perfectly against his, the rhythm of your breath syncing with his own.

Chan who innocently whispers, "Nice dream?" because he can't help but be a tease, and he loves seeing you squirm as you try to find an acceptable answer. Who's chuckle vibrates through his chest and into your back from how close you two are pressed together.

You tentatively hum in affirmation, wondering how much you gave away in your sleep and he nuzzles his face into your shoulder, nipping at the skin he finds there. A little sigh leaves your lips.

"Was I in it?" He asks.

You hesitate for a moment, feeling his warm breath against your skin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

"Maybe," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chan who continues tracing patterns across the soft skin of your stomach. "Interesting. Was I, perhaps, wearing any clothes in this dream of yours?"

"Chris," You whine indignantly.

Chan who laughs against your skin, saying, "Okay, okay!" Who's lips brush against your earlobe, hands now trailing down your sides, igniting sparks of electricity wherever they touch. "I'm glad, though," he murmurs, "Because you've been in mine for quite some time."

Chan who still sees the sleep in your eyes when he tilts your head towards his for a kiss. Who takes his time, kissing you slowly, hands tracing up your spine, entangling themselves in your bra straps. Who forgets every other mouth his had touched before you. Who nips at your bottom lip until you part yours for him.

Chan who chases your lips when you pull away for air, his own lungs burning. Who reassures you that he'll take care of you when you give him those eyes you know he can't resist.

Chan who's fingers find their place where you need him most, brushing over your clit and you're already bucking.

"My needy baby," he coos, using his fingers to spread you open. "It's been a long four months for you, hasn't it?"

All you can do is bite your lip and nod, trying hard not to make any embarrassing noises. But you can't help the mewl you make when he sinks a single digit inside of you.

Chan who takes his time, savoring each moment, wanting to etch this memory into his mind forever. He moves his finger in slow, deliberate motions, gradually adding another finger when your wet enough.

Chan who savors every gasp and moan that escapes your lips, his touch becoming more deliberate and precise as he learns your body's responses. He revels in the way you arch into his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he's offering. Who's thumb stokes your clit, fingers curling inside of you in the way he knows you like.

Chan who coaxes two orgasms out of you with just his fingers because it's been a while and he needs you prepped to take him. Who's already rock hard and throbbing in his boxers by the time you do. But he's patient.

Chan who nearly groans out loud when you grind down against him, whining, "need you. I need you, channie."

Chan who can't resist your plea, the desperation in your voice fueling his own. He's only a man.

Chan who can’t help the groan this time when he finally slips inside of you. Your walls are squeezing around him so desperately, so well. You feel tighter than you usually were, but you’re so wet from just fingers that he bottomed out in one go.

Chan who presses your own hand flat against your lower tummy. Who whispers, “I’m right here, baby. Feel me?”

Chan who goes achingly slow at first, because he wants you to feel all of him, every vein scraping against your fluttering walls until your crying and grasping at the sheets, begging him to go faster.

Chan who complies because he can never deny you. More selfishly, because he can’t deny himself the pleasure of pleasing you. Who gradually picks up the pace, rolling his hips into yours in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Chan who whines—whines—into your neck as your walls clamp down around him as you near your third orgasm. He could feel his own rapidly approaching, the coil taunt in his stomach.

Chan who always babbles when he gets this close. Who whimpers, “Wanna make you a mommy. You’ll let me, won’t you? You’ve been…nghh—f-fuck…you’ve been so good for me, baby. So so good. You’ll let me fill you up, yeah? Make your tummy all big and round with my kids? Hmm, pretty girl?”

Chan who snakes his hand around your hip so he can press against your clit while he fucks into you and you are gone. You don’t even have the energy to warn him before you are gushing around him again.

Chan whose entire body shudders and he buries his face into your shoulder when he finally comes undone, shooting his seed deep inside of you. Who fucks his cum back inside of you, moaning at the overstimulation but wanting to breed you so bad.

Chan who stays that way, his cock buried deep inside of you as he holds you close against his chest. Who knows you’re on birth control but genuinely hopes to have kids with you someday.

Chan who dreams of a future filled with love and laughter, of a family built on the foundation of the love you share, of a lifetime spent together in each other's arms. And as the dawn breaks outside, casting its golden light upon your tangled limbs, he thinks about the small, black box stuffed deep inside his suitcase he has yet to unpack.

Chan who is finally home.

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allforthegaymes · 8 hours

Text

Post Evermore drabble

(Andrew x Neil x Jean)

When Neil had told Jean about Andrew, way back in Evermore. Stumbled through shaky words between whichever torture sessions Riko and the Master had scheduled. Jean had wondered how in Neil’s mind, Andrew could ever seem as looking larger than life itself.

His brief meeting with the man at the banquet was nothing remarkable. A short welch for Kevin to cower behind. Likely too drugged to even comprehend what he had been saying.

But the way Neil talked about him then. What information would have been nothings if it had been spoken to anyone besides Jean.

Whispered tid bits as they lay in the dorm at night, fit together onto one bed for the comfort of company. Neil would tuck his face between Jean’s shoulder and talk about how Andrew always sat on the desk when he smoked in the dorm. How even though he was scared of heights, he would always lean far through the busted window screen to exhale smoke. How he took Kevins need for the buddy system in stride, letting the Foxes believe it was Andrew who needed it more than Kevin.

Jean couldn’t help but feel a little hopeful. Even knowing he had no way out of Evermore, at least Neil would have someone waiting who had experience taking care of the post Raven abuse.

The hope drifted slightly when Renee reached out to him. Neil had mentioned the system, how the Foxes were split between being Andrew’s or Renee’s. Hope bruised that maybe he could’ve been one of Andrew’s too.

Hope near crushed when Renee is the one to sweep into Evermore and drag his beaten body out.

He’s not sure why he was so convinced that Andrew would find him intriguing. The man doesnt visit like Renee does. Only making an appearance when Neil and Kevin feel the need to bully their way through Abby’s house to see him.

He is the one who rebukes Kevin’s offer to ask Jeremy to take in Jean with the Trojans. He doesnt give an explanation, just a steady stare towards Jean and a nod to him before they leave again for the dorms that night.

When the Foxes win against the Ravens, and Riko gets his arm near ripped off by the heavy swing of Andrew’s racket. Jean is glad someone else was able to protect Neil from Riko.

When Jean hears about Rikos suicide, and finds himself in that bathtub, and then finds himself dragged through the halls of the Fox Tower to the waiting ambulance. He thinks about whether Neil will be okay with just Andrew to take care of him.

He’s surprised to wake up in the hospital bed and see Andrew sat beside it, more surprised even to see that Andrew’s alone.

The blonde doesn’t offer him any words, but tugs off his black armbands, grabbing Jean’s hands to place them onto the faded, but raised scars beneath. Jean grips onto him harder than necessary but Andrew doesnt sway. A steady force for Jean to lean into.

When Jean releases his wrists, Andrew lets them tangle into his shirt instead while he pulls the bands back on.

“Dont touch me, just touch the clothes.”

Jean hooks one finger around a belt loop and a fistful of the shirt in another, and keeps them right there to fall back to sleep.

Hes moved back to the Fox Tower within a week, Kevin moves to sleep on the couch in order to give Jean his bed, but Jean finds himself crawling into Neil’s every night anyways.

“Does it bother you?” He asks Andrew once.

Neil is fast asleep beside him already but Andrew is sat on the desk by the window, leaning as far out as he can.

He gives Jean the quirk of one eyebrow.

“Me sleeping next to him. I know you two…and you know my…reputation”

Andrew snubs his cigarette out on the windowsill before dropping it to the concrete below.

“I’m not in charge of Neil and I will not be in charge of you either”

“But that doesnt-“

“It doesnt need to make sense,” Andrew shrugs “I told Renee I’d take care of you, and that means letting you have what you need to feel better”

“Would you come over too then?”

Andrew doesnt hesitate, barely remembering to kick off his shoes before he climbs in next to them. He stays closest to the edge of the edge of the bed, “no skin, but clothes are okay.”

Jean turns to his side to tangle his fingers into the sides of Andrew’s shirt, and lets the arm that Andrew slings over his shoulder tug him closer till his nose can be tucked into Andrew’s chest.

A deep breath.

The smell of cigarette smoke, sweat, and cheap deodorant.

Neil mumbles in his sleep somewhere behind Jean, but he tunes it out as Andrews fingers slide into his hair, scratching softly against his scalp until Jean’s breathing evens out, slipping into sleep as well.

#jean moreau #andrew minyard #neil josten #the sunshine court #the foxhole court #all for the game #the kings men #the raven king #aftg #fanfic #drabble #mine #andrew x jean x neil #jeaneil #andreil #whats their ship name

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youngbloodlisk · 2 years

Text

seeing little to no plus size inclusivity in fanfiction will never cease to surprise me tbh

#especially when it's stuff like #'and you would steal their clothes haha'#like that's all fine and good #and im glad ppl that could apply to can enjoy that!#i rlly am.#like /gen #but #i wish there was a commonly used plus size alternative that could go WITH that #like my ass is not fitting in some thin boy's hoodie lmao #i just read one that was like #'if you're around the same size or if you have oversized clothes he'll steal your clothes'#and that's #fine #that's assuming the reader here is around his size or smaller #not larger #cause goddamnit!#im bigger than this boy! lmao #like I guess in my case ALL my clothes would be oversized in this scenario #it would've been real easy to just say like #'any clothes you have that will fit on him in any way? he's taking them'#all inclusive that way #oversized clothing included #around-the-same-size included #plus size included #listen I know not every fanfic is gonna cater to me #I'm not stupid I know that lol #and that's fine #they don't have to #but I have a right to be a lil pissed when 10% of the fanfics I see even allow me to be included at all

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sweet-as-an-angel · 4 months

Text

Giant! König Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Creep! König, Perverted! König, König Owns a Cum Jar, Size Difference, Giant! König, Size Kink, Sadistic! König, Abuse of Power, Dub-Con, Cum Soaking, Attempts at Forced Impregnation, Implied Pregnancy, Voyeurism, Hostage Situation, Human Pet! Reader, Physical Violence, Human! Reader, Fem! Reader.

Giant! König captures you after he catches you sneaking around his castle, trying to loot something of value to take back to your impoverished village.

Giant! König immediately jumps at the opportunity to take you as his human pet, throwing you into a nearby jar and closing the lid, observing you like a spider beneath a glass.

Giant! König who, after deciding he wants to keep you long-term instead of turning your body into the sprinkles atop his ice cream, creates a more sustainable living space for you after discovering you’re not as durable as he thought (almost suffocating, dehydrating, and starving to death whilst being held in that damn jar).

Giant! König surprises you with a dollhouse of his own design: a door that locks from the outside, windows too small for you to crawl through, and walls made of a material too strong for your tiny utensils to burrow through.

Giant! König doesn’t take long to start using you for his own pleasure – almost like he has no other outlet; like he was just waiting for this opportunity to come.

Giant! König who, whenever he feels like punishing you, puts you in The Jar and stares you down whilst stroking his cock, gigantic even in comparison to other giants’. He grunts, berating you, telling you how he’d “Fill you with my cock if you weren’t so small – bet I could crush you with it if I wanted to.”

When he’s ready, he cums into the jar – all over you – thick and heavy, almost drowning you with just one spurt of his load.

He loves watching you struggle to keep your head above the viscous pool he’s trapped you in as you literally swim in his semen, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to “Get me out, please!”.

He’ll often leave you in there without clothes to try and teach you a lesson. Until it turns into another reason – to breed you – which you accidentally sparked in him when you told him to be careful! You’ll end up getting me pregnant!

Giant! König can’t get your words out of his head, the primal urges he’s suppressed for so long unearthed by your pleas for him to spare you, if only once.

Giant! König knows he’s way too big to fit inside you, so this – cumming profusely into a jar he’s encased you in whilst giving you no means of refusing his attempts – is the next best thing.

Giant! König gets off on the sheer size difference between the two of you – the fact that you’re entirely dependent on him for your survival. Makes him feel like the kind of giant he’s supposed to be; strong and well-seeded.

Giant! König lays awake at night and fantasises about having a family, a far-off dream until you came along. It’s all he can think about as the image of you, his tiny wife, swollen to an almost painful degree as you bear his children, floods his mind, makes his cock twitch – harden. He resists the urge to relieve himself of this burden, preferring to save every ounce of his seed for you rather than wasting even a drop of it.

Giant! König who, despite his…questionable treatment of you, does try to treat you well. He lets you eat as much as you want, both because he knows you come from a poor background and because he has to keep you healthy to bear his offspring — especially since he knows they’ll be quite big compared to you.

Giant! König enjoys questioning you about your life before him, how humans work, what they do all day, whether the stereotypes of them all being lustful, pride-driven, creatures are true.

If you validate any part of this stereotype, he’ll use that as an excuse to sink you in even more of his cum, to subject you to the task of sitting on his cock (horizontally, might I add) while he commands you to get yourself off by humping the shaft.

Man’s had no outlet for basicall all his life – he’s feral.

Giant! König loves to watch you while you’re tucked up in your dollhouse, observing everything you do. Humans are a rarity in the Giant Lands, so to have one in his home is a mythic occurrence.

Giant! König loves showing you off; he thrives on the reaction he gets when his friends see you. You’re, as stated before, a rarity in their parts, often used as a delicacy rather than a pet since humans aren’t particularly sturdy compared to giants, so managing to keep one alive is something of a status symbol in itself; the mark of a truly capable mate (hence captive humans are often given as courting gifts between giants).

However, König is also highly protective of you – especially after he caught Horangi (another giant he’d been showing you off to) goading you – harassing you – stroking his cock, telling you to “Lick the tip. Never felt a human tongue before.”

Needless to say, König never invited him around again after that.

Giant! König is, obviously, good with his hands and technical know-how. Thus, if his method of soaking you in his semen doesn’t work when trying to knock you up, he’ll create some unlawful contraption to make it inevitable.

Despite his size, König has managed to make a tiny glass syringe that he’s packed with his cum, holding you down easily with one hand as he presses the tip to your entrance, pumping you full of his seed.

He struggles to contain how the scene – the feeling – of you trying desperately to fight him off, to stop him from filling you, makes him feel. You have to watch the bulge between his legs grow as the feeling of being filled past full overcome you.

Giant! König does this as many times as he likes until he knows his seed’s taken, when you start showing. Which, considering how big his offspring will be, is pretty early on.

He definitely makes maternity clothes for you – comfortable garments that show the swell of your stomach as the weeks crawl by into months.

Giant! König loves bathing you, too. Especially after he’s covered you in his cum.

There’s something so intimate and gentle about it – a scarcity in the Giant Lands. Having something so small and fragile in his hands, knowing that he can crush you in his grip at any moment, makes him feel…responsible. Trustworthy.

Giant! König will never let you go, btw. You can try to run as much as you want, but he’ll always catch up to you, his human pet.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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nanaslutt · 4 months

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Somno w/ perv!Gojo

contains: fem reader, somnophillia (having sex while one party is asleep), pre-established consent, fantasizing, ass play, unprotected sex, so much dirty talk, cum eating, whiny!gojo

note: I wasted no time w/ plot, straight into the smut babyy

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Your door creaked open, the light from the hallway leaking into your room and revealing your sleeping frame, snug underneath the covers of your bedsheets. Gojo tip-toed into the room, careful to not wake you before the fun even started.

Gojo had brought up to you earlier in the week he wanted to try fucking you when you were sleeping, but he didn't want to tell you when he was going to do it, instead the man gave you a vague timeframe-- 'sometime this week', he claimed it would 'make it more exciting'.

You gave your consent, resulting in the biggest grin spreading across his face. Promises fell from his lips that he would make you feel so fucking good while you dreamed about his cock inside you as he actually had his way with you in real life.

Your upper half was clad in one of Gojo's t-shirts, the cloth having scrunched up your body from your movement as you slept, revealing your midriff. Gojo crept through your room, palming his already hard cock through his pants as he made his way to the opposite side of your bed. With slow cautious movements, Gojo slipped under the covers and wrapped his arms around your body, his hands resting on your tummy, his fingers rubbing the soft skin soothingly.

Satoru bit his lip as he felt you up, his cock pressed snugly against your ass as he cuddled you, trying to get your sleeping body used to being touched before he actually fucked you. Gojo was so aroused by this situation. You trusting him enough to touch you while you were asleep made his cock so hard it threatened to rip through his pants. You looked so pretty, so vulnerable, all for him.

Gojo humped his hips into your ass slowly as he fondled your sleeping body. His hands slid under your shirt to grope your tits, his warm hans engulfing the fat of your chest as he massaged them in his large hands, his cock twitching at how soft they felt in his grasp.

"Fuck… you're so pretty baby…" Gojo whispered, kissing the back of your head before he placed his head in the crook of your neck, watching his hands move under your shirt, feeling up your chest. His eyes slid over to your face as he watched your eyebrows scrunch slightly when he pinched your nipples between his fingers, rolling the stiff buds.

"Does that feel good?" He whispered, biting his lip as he kept his eyes glued to your face, desperate for any other small reactions you had in your sleep. "You dreamin' about me right now?" He asked, knowing he would get no response. "Wonder what 'ur dreamin' about…" Gojo pondered, pressing his hips harder against you, his clothed cock fitting perfectly between your ass cheeks.

"Hmmmm," Gojo mumbled into the quiet room, the soft sounds of air breathing through the vent on your ceiling. "How should I take you?" He asked himself out loud, one of his hands retracting from your tits to slide down his body, grabbing the band of his pants.

Satoru slid his checkered pants and boxers off with one hand, his hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen, the precum already accumulated on his tip and smearing onto the skin of his pelvis. After his pants had been kicked off, discarded somewhere on the ground, Gojo grabbed the base of his cock and slapped it lightly against your panty-clad ass.

"I could fuck your tight asshole right now and you would never know, huh?" Gojo whispered, pulling the covers off of your body before he grabbed his cock once more and pressed his fat tip against your covered asshole, pressing against it. "Unless you woke up, heh." He laughed to himself, slowly thrusting his tip against your ass.

"Would you want that?" Gojo whispered, wrapping his arms around your body once more, his naked cock being pressed between your soft cheeks as he rolled your body so you were laying fully on your stomach, your legs closed together as your ass was presented nice and pretty for him. Gojo placed his hands on the bed next to your shoulders, his hips pressed snugly into your ass as he dry-humped his cock against you, his pre-cum being smeared against your skin.

"Would you be scared if you woke up to my cock inside your ass?" Gojo groaned, his cock twitching at the idea. You made a small noise in your sleep, your eyebrows scrunching together once more when he pressed his cock harder against you. "Yeah?" Gojo giggled at your perfectly timed reaction to his words.

"Don't worry baby, I won't do it… this time." He reassured you, even though you didn't hear a word he said. Gojo humped his hips hard against your ass, keeping his dick pressed against you for a moment before he pulled away and sat on the back of your thighs. "Gotta get you ready for me, pretty girl," Gojo said, his long fingers sliding your panties down slowly off of your body. The small cloth sticking to your cunt from how wet you were as he peeled them away.

A string of your slick connected to the cloth, a sight that Gojo's eyes did not miss. "Oh fuck, you already wet for me, princess?" He groaned under his breath, his cock twitching at the sight. It was at that moment that Gojo decided he needed to have a taste of you, just working you open on his fingers was not going to be enough.

Gojo shook his head as he slid threw his leg over your body, both of his legs resting on one side of you as he peeled your panties down the length of your legs, slipping your feet out of the holes. Your comforter got dragged off of you from Gojo's ministrations, leaving your body at his complete mercy.

Gojo grabbed your shins and peeled your legs open from the end of the bed, his hands sliding up and up and up your legs as he made room for himself, your legs spread just enough for him to lay down between them as you laid on your stomach, your cunt and cute puckered hole exposed for his all-seeing eyes to feast upon.

"Your pussy is so fucking cute, baby." Gojo praised, shaking his head in disbelief as he spread your ass apart, your pussy lips spreading in tandem. "You can feel all of this huh? 'S that why you're so wet? Am I touching you in your dreams right now?" Gojo teased, his words only egging himself on.

Gojo placed both of his massive hands on your ass, massaging the fat in his hands, his watchful eyes taking in the way your pussy squished together as he groped you. He leaned his face close to your cunt, inhaling deeply as he took in your scent, his cock squished between his tummy and the sheets twitching when the sweet scent of your cunt reached his nose.

His eyes rolled back in his head as he groped and sniffed you like some pervert. He wanted to take this time when you were asleep to do things you would otherwise be too embarrassed to let him do while you were awake. "Let's see if this wakes you up," Gojo mumbled before he leaned in fully, suffocating himself between your ass, his tongue poking out between his lips to taste your cunt, the appendage running up your folds.

He heard you whimper when his tongue brushed your clit, the small sound spurring him on, making his cock twitch against your sheets. Gojo shut his eyes as he pressed his face harder against you, his tongue wasting no time in hastily licking all around your pussy. His hands spread apart your ass, the pad of one of his thumbs dangerously close to your puckered hole.

Gojo moaned into your folds, your legs twitching at the sensitive feeling when the vibrations sent shockwaves into your clit. Gojo pulled away, his greedy eyes taking in how wet and sloppy your cunt looked from just a few seconds with his tongue. "God, you taste so fucking good." He groaned before he dove back in, his face burring deeper against you, suffocating himself so he could take your clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking against it as he sucked it between his lips.

He felt the little thing throb in his mouth as he beat his tongue against it, making him giggle. The pad of his thumb got more bold as he went on, the digit pressing against it slightly, rubbing teasing circles against it, not daring to push any further. Gojo rut his hips into the bed, unable to hold back his arousal from how much this situation was turning him on.

He shook his head against your folds before he pulled back with a gasp, his jaw dropped open as he heaved air into his lungs. "How are you staying asleep, huh? Thought my tongue would wake you up for sure." Gojo whispered, astonished. While he caught his breath, getting ready to dive back into your cunt, a small bottle on your bedside table caught his attention. The bottle being illuminated perfectly by the light seeping in from the hallway like a spotlight.

The little white label on the bottle read 'sleeping pills'. Gojo licked his lips, groaning into the air when he realized why you were sleeping so well. "You're so fucking naughty. You really wanted me to have my way with you while you're asleep huhhh~?" Gojo cooed, feeling his cock leak pre-cum into your sheets at the revelation. "Didn't even try 'n hide it." He giggled.

"Alright, I'll give you what you want," Gojo mumbled before he leaned back in, his tongue immediately poking at the entrance of your cunt. His tongue slipped in with ease, your walls squeezing around his tongue as he worked you open, thrusting his tongue in and out of your tight hole. "Mmmm-" Gojo moaned, one of his hands leaving your ass to slide under his body to wrap around his cock, his hips thrusting into the tight hole he made with his fist, his eyes rolling back as he fucked his hand while he drank up your juices.

As much as Gojo was enjoying eating your pussy like this, he didn't know how much longer he could go without being inside you. His fist usually did the job of tidying him over while he stretched you out for his cock, but it just wasn't doing it for him right now, he needed to be inside you before he lost his mind.

Gojo continued to stretch you out on his tongue, his hand jerking over his length, smearing his pre-cum over his cock as it leaked continuously from his tip, making a mess of your sheets. He opened his mouth against your pussy, sticking his tongue into your cunt as far as it could go and shaking his head against you one last time before he pulled away and sat up immediately.

"I can't take this shit anymore." Gojo groaned, his cock throbbing in the air as he used his large hands to press your thighs together, his hips straddled the backs of your thighs, right under your ass as he got ready to give you his cock. "I know you want it just as bad as I do, isn't that right?" He cooed. Gojo grabbed the base of his cock and slapped his leaky tip on your ass before he pressed his cock between your legs, his cock being hugged by your thighs and pussy from the position he had you in.

"Fuckkkk…" He grits through his teeth, rubbing his tip along your pussy before he caught his tip in your entrance. "Take my cock baby." Gojo groaned as he began feeding his cock into your tight walls. He groaned at how greedily your pussy sucked up his cock, your walls hugging around him each time he pulled out like you didn't want him to leave as he got you used to his cock.

"You want me bad huh?" He whined, taking pleasure in the feeling of your thighs squeezing together, your body trying to bring you relief even in your sleep. Gojo leaned over your body, his arms perched on either side of your body as he fucked the entirety of his cock into you, keeping his hips flush against yours as he relished in the feeling of your walls pulsing around him.

"Fuck baby, 'ur killin' me." Gojo let out a lengthy groan, tipping his head back as his eyes rolled back in his head, his eyelids fluttering around them, his body struggling to deal with the intense pleasure. You always felt so fucking tight in this position, it drove him crazy. "Thank god you're asleep… I'm not going to last very long. 'Pussy is squeezing me like crazy, fuck-." Gojo moaned to himself as he pulled his cock out a couple of inches before thrusting it back into you.

You gasped in your sleep, your cunt clenching around his cock as he repeatedly drilled right into your sweet spot. "Ngh-! Loosen up baby, c'mon…" Gojo whined, biting his bottom lip between his teeth, his thrusts pausing as he fought to not fill your cunt with his cum so soon. It would be a shame to end this so quickly.

You didn't listen, of course, your cunt continuing to squeeze and pulse around him, even when he kept his hips still against you. "Fuck… just what are you dreaming about?" Gojo giggled through a groan as he pulled his hips back, humping them against your ass, the fat rippling from his ministrations.

"Better be dreaming about me," Gojo said through his teeth posessively. Gojo dropped his eyes down to look at where the two of you were connected as he picked up the pace of his hips, the squelching from your pussy reaching his ears and making his face heat up, a deep blush spreading across his face.

Gojo felt his balls tighten with his release the longer he watched his cock fuck in and out of you, a white ring of your cum forming around the base of his cock each time he thrust inside you. Gojo was fighting to keep his whimpers and whines at bay. Barely five minutes inside your cunt as he was a pussydrunk mess, his jaw slack as moan after moan fell from his lips.

"Fuck- fuck- fuck- ohhhh my god-" He groaned, inhaling sharply through his teeth. "Oh fuck I'm gonna cum- I'm gonna cum-" He moaned, his fingers digging into the sheets by the sides of your body, his breath picking up, his breathing raising in pitch. He sounded so pathetic and fucked out as your pussy absolutely milked his cock.

He tried not to be too rough, he knew those sleeping pills did a lot, but if he really manhandled you and abused your cunt like he wanted to as he got closer to his orgasm, he knew you would wake up. "Fuck I'm gonna cum inside you- take it for me, take- fuck-" Gojo's words got cut off as his hips stilled against you, his orgasm hitting him like a train.

His arms shook with the pressure of keeping his torso up, trying not to let his body fall and crush you completely. Gojo groaned as he rolled his hips against yours, releasing rope after rope of his hot cum deep inside your pussy. "Nghhhh~ Oh shit, are you c-cumming right now?" Gojo whimpered, watching your pussy pulse around him, the feeling alarmingly similar to the way it did when you came.

Your legs were also shaking, your thighs pressing together slightly as your own orgasm washed over you. "Oh yeah baby cum, cum for me." Gojo praised, watching with a slack jaw as your body shook, small whimpers and whines falling from your lips, your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure.

When you loosened up around him, Gojo slowly pulled his cock out of you, the cum he just fucked into you chasing his cock, some of the white liquid dripping out of your pussy. Gojo tsked, his long fingers coming down to scoop up his seed as he thrust his fingers into you, stuffing his cum back inside of you. "Keep it all in. Want you to know exactly what happened when you wake up in the morning." Gojo said to your sleeping body.

Your breathing had gone back to normal, the only thing noticeably different about you being the blush that was dusted across your cheeks from cumming so hard. Gojo pulled his fingers out, holding them in front of him as he turned them around, watching in awe at how they shone under the light from your combined cum coating them.

Gojo took one more look at your face, making sure you really were asleep before he sucked his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of himself combined with your cum as his greedy tongue licked his fingers clean, swallowing up the slightly bitter liquid.

Gojo's cock twitched with interest at the taste, a part of his brain telling him to finger you again so he could taste more of himself. The majority of his brain, however, was begging him to go to sleep. It was the middle of the night, after all, he had waited quite some time to make sure you were fully asleep before he came to fuck you.

With a sigh, Gojo reached over to the side of the bed where he had placed your panties. He leaned down and thread your feet through the holes as he dragged the material up your legs, over your hips, and back into place snuggly against your cunt like nothing had happened.

Gojo pat his hand over your sensitive cunt, "Keep my cum deep inside you like a good girl~" He teased, smirking before he leaned down to grab the comforter, sliding underneath it with you as he laid it snugly over your body, manipulating you so you were laying on your side, Gojo's body wrapping around yours like a koala.

"I love you, pretty girl. Thank you for trusting me." He whispered, pressing a kiss to your head before he buried his head in the back of your neck, squeezing your body as his brain quickly fell asleep, the two of you staying pressed snugly against one another until the next morning when you awoke to Satoru's little present that he left inside of you.

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yanderenightmare · 4 months

Text

Gojo Satoru x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, fantasy au

gn reader

Thinking about hunter Gojo and the pretty little nymph that gets themselves snared in one of his traps.

You can’t get your poor leg loose, having twisted your ankle in your fall to the ground – something’s wrong with your wing too, you can feel it – the thin network’s been folded, almost broken – so even if you did manage getting loose, you wouldn’t be able to fly away.

Branches snap around you along the crunch of old leaves – and your heart’s beating out of your chest in fear of it – knowing something large and dangerous is not far behind, that whoever set the trap is not something that wishes you well.

“You’re not a rabbit.” The man says, having crept in close before you’d even heard him approach – crouching in front of you with a hunter's grace. Hawk-eyes ice-blue and piercing, hair as white as pure snow.

He’s got three daggers sleaved in his belt – a fillet knife, a gutting knife, and a larger one you imagine is meant to slice throats. He doesn’t carry a sword like most men but has a bow and sack of arrows slung on his back. Otherwise, dressed lightly – brown leather boots, brown slacks, and a blue cotton shirt. You could have mistaken him for a woodland elf if it weren’t for the thick stench of man.

“Eating creatures from the holy forest is forbidden.” You snip, despite your wide eyes and the wobble of fear evident on your lip.

He only smiles at the quip, a grin like a predator humored by prey. “You wouldn’t tell a wolf not to hunt.”

He stalks you, leaning in closer, and you try shuffling away – but the movement only makes you wince.

“I’m just another hungry animal…”

Rope gnaws into your fine skin while his breath puffs hot and dewy on your face.

“And tonight… seems lady luck has favored me once again.”

He gags you and ties you further up before redoing his snare for the next unlucky creature – then carries you over his shoulder until he’s dropping you down on a bed of furs.

Your skin flushes with goosebumps at the thought of being skinned the same way – mouthing a little prayer around the cloth he’s split your teeth and lips with. He’s cut trees down as well; you hear their pitiful screams when he lights a fire with their bodies. You mourn them, too.

At his full height, the man must be two heads taller than any male nymph you’ve ever seen and at least three heads taller than you. You hope you’re enough to satisfy him tonight, to spare the forest of further bloodshed.

You shiver and sniffle when he starts prepping you – removing your clothes and groping your tender, fleshy places with a strength you’re not used to – hands large and crass – kneading you like dough – probably to assess the quality of your meat. He has a smile on his face while at it.

Humans make you sick – to think he’s planning on roasting then eating you despite the soul fueling your spirit and the beating heart in your chest. But you’ve long known that all death but their own matters little to them – they don’t feel the same way nymphs do – they don’t regard life with the same respect they’ve donned themselves. It must be a sad and lonely existence, you think. It even makes you feel a little sorry for him.

You yelp when his gritty fingers brush the area between your legs – shimmying when he lowers his mouth down to the same place. Oh God – does he plan on eating you raw? While your body’s still hot and pumping blood?

But the bite never comes – not yet eating but tasting it would seem – licking and slurping and sucking on you.

He takes his shirt off. Probably to avoid spilling on it, you think.

You don’t really understand what’s going on until he’s got his fat manhood pointed toward your kernel-sized hole. Eyes wide as he splits you apart slowly and unabashedly – as though it isn't as deviant as a dog mating a cat – sinking in inch after meaty inch.

You whimper at the stretch – wincing when the plush mushroom-shaped head grinds against that special place inside you.

It doesn’t fit more than halfway, but that doesn’t seem to bother him – rolling his head back with a rusty groan, even with just the tip gaining purchase within you – pounding into you like a beast in his rut.

“What's the matter, pretty nymph? Did you think I was gonna eat you?” He laughs, bearing over you – his hands steadying your hips to meet his sharp thrust – each hit deeper than the last. “I’m the only hunter in this forest; I can eat what I want when I want – but eating you?” He scoffed and snickered. “That would just be a waste.”

The blood on his breath makes you wrinkle your nose – squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue sweeps up the tear streaks on your cheek.

“My stomach’s already full. Time to empty my balls.”

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imsilay · 8 months

Note

I love your stalker König, have you considered writing about him kidnapping the reader?

Kidnapping them, locking them in his home so that when he comes back from his missions he can play “house” and “make love to his little wife”. Age gap is also always so good 🩷

IT WAS ON MY MIND BUT WHEN YOU REQUESTED IT I HAD TO WRITE ilysm <3

SOAR

NSFW! mdni +18, cw: kidnapping, obsessive behavior, fem!reader, König is a fucking delusional, riding, fingering.

word count: 2k

summary: Your sweet captor König fucking you after coming back to home from a long mission.

next part here

art cr: yashk_pucyet on twt

An ominous whistle echoed through the hall as he made his way to the front door of his apartment. The way he walked, his hands on his pockets and long steps, told how delighted he was to finally be back home. Other soldiers were already at the bar, celebrating their victory. But for him it was different. He didn’t wanted alcohol and woman. He wanted you. That was why he was rushing to home. He couldn’t wait to see his sweet wife, to worship his prize, to use his pet. He was aching to have you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist as he did basically everything in the house. He was clingy yes. He knew it but didn’t care. You were his already. So that meant he could do anything he wanted with you.

He already had his keys when he arrived at the door. Impatiently unlocking the door and kicking his shoes off. He closed and locked the door. A wont. “I’m back meine Königin.” he said not too loudly. He wouldn’t want to startle you because it was midnight and he knew you didn’t like loud noises. He walked through living room, it was designed simple; a couch and a tv unit with some plants, he could buy better but it was safe if it was small and basic. The door of your shared bedroom opened as he decided to stay silent in case you were sleeping. His heart hammer his chest when he saw your sleeping form in his bed. the sheets covered some of your body but the way your pajama pants was slid up exposing your soft thigh made his head spin.

See? He didn’t need any alcohol, you were intoxicating enough for him. “Meine Königin.” he purred as he quickly took of his gear and other clothes until he was just in his boxers. His mask was thrown away for him to find tomorrow. He climbed on the bed next to you. His massive body took the majority of the space but he wasn’t complaining. This way you were more close with him.

He gently turned your body towards him and took a sharp breath when he saw you wasn’t wearing any bra. “Nein, i should let you sleep. I don’t want my wife to be mad at me.” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his chest. “I missed you so much, meine Königin.” he whispered and kissed your cheek. You clinged to his body unconsciously for more warmth. The way your body pressed against his -especially the feeling of your breasts underneath your t-shirt- made him want to take you there but he has to be patient. Until you wake up and notice his presence.

Well… He wasn’t a patient man. Not after witnessing how easily can people die. If he wanted something, he had to have it right then. That was why he kidnapped you. You, his innocent little girl, so young and naive. It wasn’t hard to gain your trust, you loved everyone. He just waited until you were independent from your family and had your own life. New friends, new neighbors, new job… It all made you feel like you were in a dream. Everything was too perfect. Until one day you heard a loud noise in your house then everything went black. That was when he took you for himself. The first year was like hell. You were constantly trying to escape, breaking everything in the house and throwing fits. But could you really do anything to harm him? That mountain of a man? He could kill everyone who was in his way. And unfortunately the destination was you. It was almost pitiful that how desperate he was for you. He didn’t really hurt or hit you. Even when you tried to escape he just found you and brought you back to his house. In his words “Our home.”

“Maus.” he purred as his hand slide underneath your t-shirt caressing your waist. His lips inches away from yours aching to capture them. Your eyes opened slowly when you felt and heard him. “I’m home.” he mumbled as he brushed his lips against your cheek. When you finally processed what was going on you tried to move away immediately. “Let go of me!” you scowled and pushed him by his chest. He chuckled lightly and pulled you back to your position on his chest. “The harder you push me, the harder i will pull you back.” he whispered and kissed your cheek. “As much as i love your spirit, i’m tired, Maus.” his voice was giving away how tired he was. Yet there was more. You knew it. “What do you want from me?” you mumbled as you stopped squirming. Your heart was beating like crazy, you knew you had no chance against him. “I want you to love me. But i know it’s too much to ask. I don’t deserve you, meine Königin.” your heart ache for a moment. But then you remembered that he was your captor. Your heart filled with rage again. He smiled softly and caressed your waist. “But you know the other thing i want.” his hand squeezed your waist and his lips brushed against your chin. His lips kissing you wherever he could reach, but your lips.

He still haven’t kissed you since he kidnapped you. He would fuck you until you can’t remember your name but that was it. He told you the reason why he didn’t kissed you during a vulnerable moment of his. He was listening to your heartbeat after a nightmare and speaking to you even if you just caressed his hair and didn’t answered him. “I want to kiss you so bad, Maus. I really do. But i don’t want to ruin you. I’m just a pathetic man who is trying to make you love me. So, i want you to kiss me when you love me.” that was his sweet words before he eat you out. Ironic, isn’t it?

A soft sigh escaped from your lips when he kissed your neck and his hand down your body. “I want you to ride me. I want you to sit on my cock like it’s your throne, meine Königin.” he whispered as he grounded his hard on against your clothed cunt. You whimpered when you felt his hard cock against your stomach. He was away from home for a month and you haven’t since done anything for yourself. So you were already wet for him. “You should take care of your husband~” he purred. “You’re not my husband. You’re just a psycho.” you moaned as he kissed the sensitive skin of your neck. “I suggest you to choose your words wisely, Maus.” he mumbled and bit your shoulder as a warning. “And how could you deny me when you’re this wet f’me, hm?” he chuckled lightly after pushing his fingers into your panties making you shudder and moan. His fingers found your clit and started rubbing it slowly. Making you wetter and ready for him. Your head dropped to his shoulder and small moans escaped from your lips. He groaned when your hot breath hit his neck. His neck was the most sensitive spot on his body. Were you doing it on purpose? Knowing how he cum in his pants when you kissed him on the neck first time?

“Maus stop- i want to cum inside you.” he mumbled and with a quick maneuver you were sitting on top of his crotch. He groaned and his hips buck upwards to meet yours. The thin fabric of your underwears did nothing. He still felt how wet and warm you were. You also whined and rock your hips. You were so desperate for a release and he was the only thing in hand. Your attempts to satisfy yourself was failed because he made you addicted to his big and thick cock, your small fingers weren’t enough. One of your hands rested on his chest as you tugged down your underwear with other. “Scheiße, Maus.” his cock twitched in his boxers at the sight. He knew you wanted him as much as he do. And it made him go feral. But he managed to stay still and watched you. You were aching for his cock but it wouldn’t fit if you weren’t opened enough. Your gaze dropped to his hands on your waist. You took one of his hands and he raised an eyebrow with curiosity but he let you lead it whenever you wanted. You took his middle and ring finger inside your mouth and moaned. Your head spun from just thinking about having it inside your tight cunt. He felt like he was having a heart attack when you sucked and covered his thick and lengthy fingers with your salvia. He let you do all the work as you grounded against his clad cock and wet his fingers. When you took his fingers out of your mouth and gave him a desperate look, he knew what you wanted. So he stuck his fingers into your dripping hole making you whimper and buck your hips. “Just like that, Maus. Ride my fingers.” he fingered your little hole as his free hand supported you by your waist. “So verdammt süß.” he hissed and picked up the pace. His fingers effortlessly finding all the spots in your tight cunt. “You’re so tight, Maus. Did you wait for me like a good wife, hm?” he mumbled as he felt you were close and added another finger. You whined and your walls clenched around his thick fingers. You cum unannounced and he groaned when you cum with just his fingers. “König.” you whimpered and your hands grabbed his forearms when he pulled his fingers out. “I know it’s not enough meine Königin.” he cooed and lifted you up a little to free his precum leaking cock. He didn’t even had the patience to take off his boxers fully. He positioned you on his cock and let you take it in slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. He groaned when your walls sucked him in greedily. “Guess someone missed me.” he mumbled and caressed your hips while you sit on his cock. “Here. Right here is where you belong, Maus.” he grabbed you by hips and made you bounce on his cock. His head tipped back and he let out a low groan. He was living for this moment. When he’s on a mission he would count the days until he meet you again. His beautiful wife.

This position allowed him to be deep inside you and it made you even more desperate. Your moans and whines filled the room as he mercilessly bounced you up and down on his cock. The tip of his cock hit your cervix and you whimpered. “König it’s too deep.” you dug your nails into his forearms. He groaned and picked up the pace. It wasn’t like you were riding him anymore. He was slamming you down on his cock with his giant strength. “Slow down!” you whimpered when he hit your cervix again. “Admit that i’m your husband. Then i will consider.” he growled as he fucked you mercilessly. “Fuck-“ you cried when he didn’t even slow down a bit. “You’re my husband, König. Please.” you managed to say. “Braves Mädchen.” he purred and slowed down just a bit. “Say it again.” he slapped your hips and smirked delightfully. His big hand covered your hips as he slammed his hips into yours rapidly. You slurred that he was your husband over and over until he finally cum deep inside you. He rubbed your clit so you cum along with him.

You collapsed on his chest as he pulled out his cock. His semen dripped from your hole and you buried your head into his neck. You hated him so much for ruining your life but you were also desperate to have his love and affection. “Meine Königin.” he cooed and rubbed your back in small circles. “We’re not finished.” he kissed your forehead when you protested with a whine.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i try to reply all of them :>

also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

i promise i will write the stalker x stalker after this lol

if you liked this story you’ll love this

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bi-writes · 7 days

Text

can't stop thinking about dark!simon with a sunshine!curvy!fem!reader, it's gnawing at my brain. (18+)

greeting him when he comes home in a little apron with dough smeared across your cheeks. you're bouncing in the kitchen, giggling as you wrap your arms around his neck. one burly arm hooks around your waist as he palms one side of your ass, and you kiss his lips over his blood-soaked mask again and again as you coo, "missed you so much, made you chocolate chip..."

you talk and talk and talk and talk. you're always talking. you're always whispering in his ear and chattering as he drives and telling him some story about something he missed while he was gone as you tidy up the flat. you never stop talking, never run out of things to tell him, and despite the monotone voice and the lack of response, he hears every single word that you say, and he forgets nothing. when he makes his way back on base, johnny is waiting, eager to hear an update about the receptionist at your work and if she is actually sleeping with your manager.

you wash his clothes without even blinking. you're at the sink, a bucket of cold, suddy water there as you scrub at his shirt. there's peroxide at the side, and you use a delicate hand as you scrub at the stains on it. ghost watches from the doorway as you hum to yourself, in a little pair of shorts with your hair tied up as you rinse the shirt clean. blood runs down the drain, and his shirt is clean as new.

you always find some kind of weapon around the house. you bend down to brush crumbs off the kitchen chairs, and you scold simon with a glossy pout because he left a bloody knife taped under the table. you whine when you find a grenade sitting in the same drawer you keep your tampons in. you complain when you take out the jar of rice to make dinner, and there's a small handgun hidden between the grains. but your face always softens when he cups your cheeks with two big hands, kissing you warmly, muttering, "gotta keep y'safe, luvvie...know there's a bloody line waitin' for a taste of y'r cunny, baby."

you visit him on base once in light wash denim and a white tshirt, sneakers hitting the linoleum and purse swinging as you wave at him. he's standing in front of a line of privates, watching them do jumping jacks, and his eyes light up a little when he sees you waving at him enthusiastically. when he finally makes it to you, he shoves you into the nearest supply closet and tugs your jeans down just enough to fit his cock between your thighs. when he's walking you out, the boys watch as you cling to simon's arm, a lovesick grin on your sweaty face as you flutter your lashes up at him.

he loves when your manicured hands touch him. scratching along his scalp, tracing the edge of his jaw, cupping the bulge in his pants. you're so sweet, the most giggly girl, and he loves tasting the strawberry of your gloss as you make him cum with your hand, cooing against his lips about how strong he is, how much you love him, how you would do anything for him.

he loves it most when you see him for what he really is. when he comes home battered and bruised, bloody clothes sticking to him, a snarl to his voice and the adrenaline of an op still pumping through his veins. he loves that nothing about him scares you. that even like this, you lean up on your toes and kiss him softly, that you get some of the blood and dirt smudges on the pink of your pajama pants, and you don't care, that he strangled a man with these very hands only hours ago, and you still want him to touch you.

he loves that you love him. that when he feeds his cock into you that night, in nothing but your baby pink lingerie, that you barely need any prep at all from how wet you are. thick thighs spreading apart, sticky slick shining on your skin, cunt nice and ready for him because you have missed him that much. he loves that no matter how ugly he feels, you always find him attractive, that no matter how many people he tells you that he killed tonight, all you do is smile and pucker your lips, and tell him, "it's okay, teddy bear, they deserved it, didn't they?" and yeah, they did, cause it is kill or be killed, and there is no universe where ghost does not fight to get back here, to get back to this pretty pussy, to get back to the bed he shares with you so he can watch those pretty tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you.

ghost loves his pretty girl. all smiles. all soft, so cute, just perfect. ghost casts a shadow over the room, and you just brighten it right back up. ghost tracks blood into the house, and there you are to cover it all up with citrus and soap.

yeah. always just sunshine and smiles at home.

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pucksandpower · 3 days

Text

A Crime Against Fashion

Charles Leclerc x fashion designer!Reader

Summary: you love Charles more than life itself, but everyone has a breaking point … and yours is those damn pants

You stride into the spacious open-concept living room of the luxury apartment you share with your boyfriend, tossing your leather tote onto the couch with a huff. Another long day of design meetings and fittings for your upcoming spring collection has left you completely drained.

But your frustration isn’t just from work stress this time. No, it’s those blasted pants again.

As if on cue, Charles emerges from the bedroom wearing the dreaded blue and white tie-dye atrocities that have been your nemesis for weeks now. You can’t hold back a small groan of exasperation.

“What’s wrong, mon cœur?” Charles asks with his trademark lopsided smile, those warm emerald-colored eyes crinkling at the corners.

You gesture helplessly at the offending garment. “Charles … those pants. They’re just … how can I put this delicately? A crime against fashion.”

He glances down at the loose-fitting psychedelic nightmares, seemingly oblivious to their ugliness. “What do you mean? I think they’re kind of funky.”

“Funky?” You echo incredulously. “That’s one word for them, I suppose. Hideously unstylish is another.”

Charles pouts, sticking out his full lower lip in that irresistible way he knows gets you flustered. “But chérie, I really like them. They’re so comfy and casual.”

You shake your head adamantly, trying not to get distracted by how criminally attractive he looks even in those ridiculous pants. “No, nope. As your girlfriend and a designer, I simply cannot allow you to go out in public wearing those any longer. It’s a matter of principle!”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh? And just what do you plan to do about it, hmm?”

A mischievous grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Well, I do have a few ideas …” You lunge toward him playfully.

With a yelp of surprise, Charles dodges out of the way, those long legs carrying him across the living room as you give chase. You laugh breathlessly, finally managing to catch him and wrap your arms around his slender waist from behind.

“Quit running away from me, Leclerc!” You tease, nuzzling against the back of his neck. “You know this is for your own good.”

Charles twists around in your arms until you’re face to face. His expression is one of feigned indignation but you can see his warm green eyes are dancing with amusement. “I will not be bullied about my clothing choices by you, Y/N Y/L/N! These pants are staying and that’s final!”

You answer by promptly planting a line of teasing kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, making him shiver. “Is that so? We’ll see about that, pretty boy.”

That evening, you make a point to avoid looking at or even acknowledging the offensive pants for the rest of the night. At one point, Charles good-naturedly tries to get a rise out of you by draping the tie-dyed nightmares over the back of the couch right in your line of sight. But you simply turn your nose up with an overdramatic harrumph, refusing to take the bait.

“Very mature,” Charles chuckles from beside you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours in that casual yet intimate way.

You shoot him a pointed look from the corner of your eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m simply refusing to lend any credibility to those … those …” You wave a hand vaguely in the direction of the pants hanging over the couch.

“You mean my pants?” Charles supplies helpfully, that infuriatingly charming grin stretching across his full lips.

“Ugh, don’t even call them that! Actual pants deserve more respect.” You lean your head against the back of the couch in exasperation.

Charles scoots closer until his side is flush against yours. He cups your jaw in one of those large, calloused racing hands and gently turns your face until you’re meeting his molten gaze. “You’re just jealous that I look better in them than you ever could, mon amour.”

His teasing words further ignite the spark of competitive spirit smoldering in your chest. With a surge of determination, you press a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Challenge accepted, Leclerc.”

Two nights later, as Charles arrives back at the apartment after a grueling day of training, he immediately notices that something is … off.

He pads through the living room toward the bedroom, brow furrowed in confusion at the odd scattering of fabric scraps and loose threads on the floor. Your sewing machine is set up on the dining table, various rattles and clanks echoing from the bedroom.

“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly. “Everything okay in there?”

You poke your head out from around the bedroom doorway, cheeks flushed and hair slightly askew. But your eyes are bright with mischief. “Charles! You’re home, perfect. Come in here for a second?”

With a shrug, he follows you into the bedroom. Only to stop dead in his tracks, jaw dropping almost comically. There on the floor in a tattered, unrecognizable heap of fabric are … his beloved tie-dye pants. The ones you had so vehemently loathed.

“Y/N, what … how … why …” he splutters, seemingly at a loss for words as he crouches down and gingerly runs a finger over the ragged remnants.

Resting your hands on your hips, you try not to look too triumphant. “What can I say? The cat got to them.”

Charles’ brows knit together in confusion. “We don’t have a cat, mon ange.”

Oops. Think fast.

“Well, uh, I was actually cat-sitting for Max today! You know how crazy Jimmy and Sassy can be. Those little balls of fluff must have gotten a hold of your pants and just went to town on them.”

You shrug innocently, the very picture of wide-eyed virtue. “Who can blame them, really? I warned you those pants were a crime against nature itself.”

For a long beat, Charles simply stares at the remains of his pants, then at you, eyes narrowed. You can practically see the realization dawning on his stupidly handsome face. Before he can call you out, you pivot on your heel.

“Anyway!” You clear your throat. “Since those pants were so adamantly beloved by you, I decided to give the fabric a little … redesign. Just to prove my point.” You turn back toward him, dropping the robe you had wrapped around yourself, to reveal your new creation. “What do you think?”

Charles’ breath seems to catch in his throat as you reveal the vibrant blue and white tie-dye fabric, repurposed into a sleek mini-skirt that hugs your curves in all the right ways. You punctuate the look by posing with one hand on your cocked hip, letting the skirt’s flirty hem swish teasingly.

“Well?” You raise an eyebrow challengingly, unable to keep the triumphant smirk from tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I believe you said something about looking better in those pants than me?”

To Charles’ credit, he recovers his powers of speech relatively quickly, running one hand through those tousled chestnut curls. “Y/N, you … you look …” He seems to struggle to find the words, green eyes raking over your figure appreciatively. "Incroyable. Magnifique."

You feel your cheeks warming at his praise, suddenly grateful for your impromptu redesign. “So I’ll take that as a point proven then?” You prod teasingly.

Charles finally tears his heated gaze from your body to meet your eyes, crossing the room in a few long strides until he’s crowding into your personal space. You catch your breath as his calloused hands settle on the curve of your waist, fingers brushing tantalizingly over the tie-dye fabric.

“More than proven, mon amour,” he rumbles in that low, gravelly tone that never fails to make your pulse kick up a notch. “I stand corrected — this fabric was absolutely meant for you and you alone.”

Before you can react with more than a breathless giggle, he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you dizzy and melting against the hard planes of his chest.

As you slowly break away trying to catch your breath, a wicked grin curves your lips. Placing your palms flat against Charles’ chest, you lean back just enough to meet his lidded, lust-blown gaze.

“You know …” you murmur, trailing a fingertip down the taut line of his throat and relishing the way his eyes darken further. “Now that I’ve refashioned those pants into this skirt, I believe that means they’re officially off-limits for you to wear. Unless …”

You bite your lower lip coyly, letting the implication hang in the air. Charles cocks an eyebrow, a rakish smirk of his own playing about those full lips as he catches your meaning.

“Unless what, ma belle?” His voice is thick with undisguised longing as he pulls you flush against him once more.

Stretching up on your tiptoes, you brush a feather-light kiss to that sharp, stubbly jawline. “Unless you’d fancy giving this skirt a spin for me sometime, Mr. Leclerc,” you practically purr into the heated space between your bodies. “Because I can absolutely get behind that look on you.”

Charles throws back his head with a rich peal of laughter, the sound reverberating through you. As his hands roam possessively over the tie-dye fabric now molded to your curves, you decide you’ll have to put in a request to see that particular fashion show very soon.

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matchascara · 9 months

Text

VAMPIRE AU | ANEMO BOYS

- IN WHICH: you’re a touch starved vampire, who just can’t seem to keep her fangs to herself…

nsfw/suggestive

(i wrote this very quick as the idea just popped into my head, so it’s not profread!!)

you were eternally grateful for the friends you had, after all, they let you relentlessly suck their blood when needed. or more like, when you wanted. were you going to die if you went a day or two without human blood? no. could you have easily suck the blood of an animal? yes. but human blood just tasted oh so much better, especially when it came from them.

they felt special whenever you’d ask for a taste, little did they know, they were one of many, and you were just getting started.

KAZUHA

never failed to grasp the back of your head as you dove your fangs into his soft, delicate skin, grabbing a handful of your hair as he threw his head back in pain. his refreshing cederwood scented cologne intoxicating your nostrils everytime you released your breath to drink more. he was never hesitant about you taking his blood, especially when he knew you craved it, because, he craved you just as much. and you knew this as he made no effort to hide his soft moans that would shamelessly escape his lips, praising you, and begging you to take more, “mmgh k-keep going— take as much as you need—more…more…“ he couldn’t deny that it hurt, when you so hungrily devoured him, as if he was nothing more than another evening snack. however, he also couldn’t deny that he enjoyed it, maybe a bit more than he should. sometimes he’d find himself interrupting you to shift his positions, as to hide his growing erection when you’d swirl your tongue around his neck, making sure to take every last drop.

XIAO

was more of the aloof type, never one to show his emotions in public. his voice was always nothing but stern and his tone was cold. sometimes talking to him gave you chills, and you’d be left wondering if the two of you were really friends. that’s why you found yourself often begging for him to share his blood to you in public, causing him to break his cold nature. and unfortunately for him, he couldn’t deny your puppy dog eyes as he’d scuff and grab your hand, leading the two of you to the closest bathroom. your favorite part about him besides his neck, was his arms, so firm and muscular, his veins often popping out as he grabbed your waist, forcefully digging his fingers into your skin as to not make a sound when you’d suck his blood. if he wasn’t biting his bottom lip until he bled, he’d find himself slipping, letting out low pitched hums, groans, and curses. that’s when he couldn’t deny it any longer, he needed you to give him more than just your fangs, he wanted your whole body, “fuck, fuck, — i can’t— just make it quick— before i…”

HEIZOU

was the most needy, with most times instead of you asking him to take his blood, it’d be him asking you. no matter the place, time, or event, heizou wouldn’t fail to beg you to take him right then and there, teasing you by wearing loose fitting clothing, rubbing his neck continuously and playing it off by saying he’s “hurt” and “needs assistance”, and most of all, touching you directly. he’d teasingly slowly rub on your thigh up and down , just to make his way up your shirt, fondling your breasts as kissed you deeply, swirling his tongue along your fangs. “come on…don’t you wanna suck my blood? just a little…please..” breaking off from the kiss, he’d stick out his tongue that was stained red with his blood that escaped when it pricked your sharpened tooth, winking as he toyed with you. he knew what he was doing, and he knew he would always be the victor because you couldn’t resist your urges. and you’d be taking much more than “a little” because more than you craved his blood, you craved to hear his needy pleads beg you to stop, in which you wouldn’t, because that’s what he asked for, right?

SCARAMOUCHE

was the best at saying the opposite of what he wanted. constantly pleading with you to get off of him, and to “go ask someone else”, yet, whenever you’d agree to follow through with his demands, you found yourself continuing to feast on his sweet blood as he firmly held your head in place, deeply rooted in his cold neck. scaramouche dreaded the nights where he’d be unable to sleep without you coming to claim what was yours. his pride was too large to ever ask of you to suck his blood, or for him to even agree to the idea. so he loved it when you’d force yourself upon him, digging your claws into his hair as you sprawled on top of him, like a crazed hunter who’s found its prey, leaving him helpless at your embrace. his denial turned to silence, then turned into sensual whines, him trying his very best to conceal his pleasure by biting his hand as his usual pale complexion hued red. “aah—aah—aah—stop- stop- it really…really…feels…” you loved making him crumble before you, and one day, you were going to make him scream for more. scaramouche, so high and mighty, being knocked off his pedestal by a persistent vampire who wants nothing more than his blood.

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin impact #kazuha x y/n #kazuha smut #xiao x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao smut #heizou x y/n #heizou genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #heizou x reader

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futureplayboibunnie · 9 months

Text

Aphrodesiacs Pt.2

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

y’all are wild. my wish is your command. i HAVE to make a part 3 now fr.

this is so NSFW and i’m too lazy to do any warnings, just 18+ (i’m being so serious deadass)

The way you said “I don’t care” made Miguel’s chest cave into his insides, he shuddered, gaping at you with a blank and indiscernable look that seemed akin to that of a deer in headlights. You didn’t know what you were talking about. You didn’t know what you were asking from him. He was being coaxed into paradise, lured away from any sort of reason. He stared at you vacantly, eyes wide and wild.

You could see that he was having a prolonged and probably bloody war in his mind over a decision that could effect so many different aspects of your lives. Miguel was a reliable man with many people he had to be worrying about and controlling, he shouldn’t be able to give in like this.

But you made it very clear: you simply didn’t care.

He tried so hard though, to not give in. To put morality in front of his desires that were barking at him like a pack of dogs filled to the brim with rabies. Miguel’s talons ripped through his fingers and his eyes quickly flicked to the sudden emergence, he couldn’t control the way his body was reacting. Your demeanour changed and it was like a switch flipped in your face, instead of blinking up at him like a small dog that had been kicked, your eyes squinted. You flashed him a come-hither look, tilting your chin alongside that meddling sly smile. Inviting him. Challenging him.

Miguel furrowed his eyebrow and you scoffed, taking a few confident strides backwards, your hands fluffing up your hair. He swallowed, a little puzzled at what you were about to do but insatiably curious nontheless. You bit your lip and giggled.

“Come on Miguel…I’m right here…Waiting….Looking like this…” You said completely bemused, teasing him out of any semblance of sanity he had left. Your hands toyed with the zipper or your suit before you yanked it down and slithered out of the constricting material. You were bare and naked in front of him, part of him wanted to rub his bare fists to his eyes. Your body wasn’t even inviting him at this point, it was begging him. The back of your thighs met with the cool glass of his desk, you perched yourself up on it, leaning back on your hands, showing off your assets under your clothing. He groaned at the sight of your tits. Jesus, more than a fucking handful, well, for any other man anyway. Miguel was always a different beast entirely.

“You know you want it. Don’t make me wait for it. We both know you’re not capable of it.” You purred, completely happy with yourself. You shimmied out of your underwear and you spread your legs wider, revealing just how wet and just how aroused you were. “Come on….This was designed to happen. Did you really think you could avoid this for any longer?” You raised an eyebrow. “Is it that easy of you to think of me like this? I know how bad you want to cum all over me and I might even let you.” You bore your fangs and that was it for him.

Miguel’s eyes shot open and gleamed a blood red, crescents forming in his eyes as he glared at you. He really couldn’t stop himself. He tried to hard but it all proved to be pointless. He felt like a man broken down, but all he could be right now was full of lust and rage. Miguel lunged at you, one taloned hand wrapping around your neck and the other spreading your legs wider as he settled between them. He then reached down on the floor to grab your underwear. He pushed you down harshly on his desk, looming over you and then stuffed those barely there panties down your throat.

“I’ll fuck you how I see fit, we clear?” He grunted like a wild animal and you nodded your head, eyes wide and guileless, a little taken aback. He was being unkind and he liked it. He revelled in it.

“Mmmphh…” You struggled out against the fabric that was lodged down your throat.

“I’m going to breed you until you can’t stand up.” He snarled, his breath strained and heavy and he felt your legs tremble as he-

“Miguel? Are you even listening?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face, he was more focused on his zoning out than he was on you and it just made you even more irate. “Hey! Listen to me.” You smacked him across the face and he felt a sharp jolt of pain that teathered him back to reality.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He gritted through clenched teeth, completely and utterly furious that you slapped him and that you pulled him away from his alarmingly lifelike fantasy.

“I’m going to fix this, one way or the other with or without you.” You scowled at him before you walked off in the other direction and out of his eyeline

Miguel was stunned, he lost himself so quickly it was like a compelling force lulled him, his thoughts were becoming more and more realistic, preying on his weakness. He had to fist his hands to make sure he could still feel physical brute pain again, his fangs and talons suddenly emerged and he was losing every possible sense of sanity and good will that was being held hostage inside of him. He was darkened and ashen. He was becoming more and more cruel and unfeeling with every single thought of you.

Miguel threw his pillow to the wall in a frenzy, the sheer force of the throw made a crack form on the wall. It was 4 in the morning and he was desperate for some sleep, some peace from these desires and urges to do something normal: like fucking sleep. The side of his head was hanging off the edge of his bed and a frown settled upon his face. You were right. This was not manageable.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he felt you ontop of him, bouncing and creaming on his cock, riding him. He wanted to feel your skin, pull you up and down on him and feel you throw your head back at how big he was as you struggled to even make him fit in and out. Miguel groaned and raked a hand over his face to muffle it, his fangs were dripping venom and his dick was threatening to snap in half. He could fuck his fist and satiate whatever was in him when he wasn’t banging another random girl, but he still felt guility over it. At this point there was nothing else he could do.

Miguel’s hand travelled lower and lower until he reached his rock hard dick. Fucking hell, he felt like a teenager thinking about a naked woman for the first time. He sighed heavily as he let his mind wander.

“You’re all I think about.” You’d whisper in his ear as you grinded on him. “God, you’re all I think about.” You’d whimper. “Too much- Miguel…too much.” You’d drawl, nails digging into his shoulder blades as he felt you tighten and tense up already. “Too big.” He’d make it fit, make you take it, make you cry.

Miguel whispered profanities as his fist pumped faster and faster, his imagination running wild with him. His breathing became more shallow and ragged as he felt himself getting closer. Before he knew it, he came all over his fingers. Fuck. If he came this fast just thinking about you, he winced at the idea of cumming even faster when he was actually in you. No. He pushed the thought away. He wouldn’t let that happen. He shouldn’t.

You on the other hand didn’t feel guilty at all. You fucked yourself with your fingers furiously, trying to fill in for something that another man couldn’t fix, that your own fingers couldn’t fix- but you had to live in delusion and pretend that it helped to some degree. It didn’t at all. You arched your back, feeling nothing bur frustration and heat as only Miguel clouded your mind.

“I’m never going to be finished with you.” He’d promise, eyes wild and glassy. “I’ll pound you until you’re begging for my cum. I’ll make you fucking guzzle it.” He’d stick his fingers down your throar, teasing you with his talons and then plunge his fingers into your sopping pussy. “I’ll make it hurt even more when you’re on your knees.” He’d lick his fangs as he’d watch your body shake and tremble beneath him, laughing at you.

A moan ripped out of your throat as you finished. Nothing changed though. Nothing changed. You weren’t satisfied. You seriously wanted to cry, you were in heat and using other people, using your fingers seemed to make everything worse.

AHAHA i felt like i lowkey just blue ballsed you all again LOL

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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luveline · 2 months

Note

Hi honey! I hope you’re taking care of yourself ❤️ I love love LOVE how you write! Can I please request bombshell reader x Spencer telling the team she’s pregnant 💕

thank you for requesting! <3 fem, 2k

“Spencer?”

Your quiet tone has his attention faster than any shouting would’ve; he expects high energy from you, and your murmur scares him half to death. He backtracks from the bathroom with his toothbrush still in his mouth, toothpaste dripping down his fingers as he yanks it out and asks, “What?”

“Is this okay?”

You chew your lip and turn to the side, illuminating your problem with a hand framed under your tummy. Your skin peeks out from the bottom of your shirt.

The wonder of you is that you’ve always been beautiful, always, in Spencer’s eyes at least if not the entire world’s, because of how you present yourself, and of course because of your big heart. Your smile, the way you talk, all of it is beautiful and, most of the time, measured. Your clothes are carefully picked, and now you’re changing and your clothes need to change with it —your bump has appeared faster than Spencer realised it would, and you haven’t had time to upgrade your wardrobe. The cases are endless and you’d been more interested in doctor’s appointments and house viewings than clothes shopping.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, perhaps a bit useless, white frothy paste sliding down his chin.

You smile momentarily, nervous on your feet as you adjust your shirt. “I think I look very pregnant.”

Spencer goes back into the bathroom to finish brushing. “You look mildly pregnant,” he agrees loudly over the rush faucet. He spits, wipes his face, and rinses his toothbrush.

“Compared to my usual non-pregnant look, I mean,” you say.

“It’s just that shirt’s a little tight,” he promises. “We’ll find something.”

You probably aren’t going to find something, you both realise. You stand in front of him in one of your soft bralettes, the ‘S’ of your pendant on your rising chest, shirtless and likely to stay that way. “Oh,” he says, tapping your bump gently with his knuckle. “Maybe it got bigger overnight.”

“I think so,” you agree, taking his hand where it hovers to press to the top of the slope of the bump. You’re holding his hand more than you’re protecting the bump, a perplexed frown on your lips as you kneed his fingers in yours.

“We don’t have time to go to the store, but we could be late,” he says.

“What if we have a case?”

“That’s a better reason to go shopping.”

You pout for a kiss, leaning up to press your lips to his wry smile. “No. Do you still have that maroon sweater? The one that didn’t fit you right, with the v-neck?”

Spencer helps you into said sweater though you don’t need his assistance, smoothing down the wrinkles carefully. It hides the too-short hem of your white shirt underneath, and paired with the collar, Spencer couldn’t be more in love with you. “You’re dressed like me five years ago,” he says.

“Like it?” you flirt, your cheeks apples with your smug smile, your hands under your chin.

“You really are glowing.”

“Don’t tempt me into kissing you stupid,” you say, still flirting, voice dipping into that warm, sweet place that probably caused the bump between you in the first place.

“You’re lucky I don’t kiss you stupid,” he jokes, putting an arm around you for a quick hug. “Too bad we need to work to save to buy a stupid house instead.”

“Have a stupid baby,” you mumble happily, your face pressed to his chest. He kisses your cheek.

You’re both in incredible moods when you finally make it to work, tethered together from the parking lot to the elevator to the BAU office. There’s been a lot more hand holding since you found out you were pregnant, though you’re trying to keep it private just a little bit longer. Hotch gets antsy about pregnant people in the field (though he’d never force you to stay home), and the others can tend to be overbearing.

You are excited to tell them. Spencer’s your family, the team is as good as, and they’ll all be so, so happy for you. At first you’d been waiting for the twelve week milestone for practicality’s sake, but now you’re just waiting for the right time.

“Clothes get lost in the move?” Morgan asks.

You aren’t telling them about the pregnancy, but you’re honest about other things. They know you’ve moved in with Spencer, and that you’re looking for a house. Morgan would’ve been offended if you hadn’t told him. He’d offered up a bunch of his properties to you both for viewing and promised a very good family and friends price point, but they hadn’t been perfect enough. It’s just a starter house, he’d argued, mostly unoffended at your pickiness.

He doesn’t realise that you and Spencer wanna raise a baby, and you want as perfect a home as possible for at least the toddler years before you start looking to move up the ladder. A family home.

“Very funny,” you praise, letting Spencer pull back your chair for you as you sit down. You feel the new extra roundness of your bump and wonder why nobody else has noticed it either. Spencer certainly can’t stop looking at it. You catch him all the time, and at night, alone and in bed, you let him run his hand up and down the hill of it, clearly amazed.

“It looks good on you, mama,” Morgan says.

You laugh. “Doesn’t everything?” you ask with an exaggerated smirk.

“Yes,” Spencer says.

You dip your head back in your chair. “This is why I love you.”

“Devotion,” Spencer guesses, wiping at a smudge of makeup under your eye tenderly.

You put your hand on your stomach. It’s weird how things change and don’t at the same time. You feel like you love him so much more now you’re a family with him, but you loved him endlessly before. Moments like this were plentiful and warm as sunshine, the undulating care in his touch a practised exercise at this point. You let your eyes close. He strokes your cheek.

“Hotch wants everyone in the conference room,” JJ says, announcing herself and her towering cup of coffee as she breezes past the bullpen.

You follow her upstairs to the conference room. Rossi, Hotch and Penelope are already waiting, everyone accompanied by their own creature comfort (coffee, coffee, and tea, respectfully). You and Spencer take seats opposite Hotch and Rossi, hands held together as always, his left in your right, his thumb kind against your knuckles.

“The jet is still pre-loading from last time, so we can’t leave until late tonight, but we will be leaving,” Hotch begins, nodding at Penelope. “Until then, we’ll work the case from here.”

She nods back and clicks onto some severely disgusting photographs.

You work through the facts together. Emily arrives late with apologies soon forgiven, your team a well-oiled machine. Of course, without being there, there’s only so much you can do, but it’s never not useful to have these discussions and to spitball with one another.

Spencer gets stuck in his head. You fight the urge to kiss his cheek as he’d kissed yours this morning and decide on a more work appropriate show of affection, popping down to the kitchenette to make him a cup of coffee.

You aren’t drinking coffee or anything caffeinated for the baby. You aren’t thirsty, but Spencer will worry if you don’t make yourself a drink too. You fill a glass with water from the sink and make your way back up the steps to the conference room.

“It looks like there’s a racial motivation,” Spencer’s saying to Morgan.

“Sure, but with only two victims so far, it could be coincidence,” Emily says.

“Or not,” JJ says with a frown.

“I think our killer would show it more, if it were,” you suggest, “there’s usually some aspect of overkill with hate crimes we aren’t seeing here.”

You put the cup of coffee down in front of Spencer and sit in your chair. The sleeves on his sweater are too long. You push them up for the tenth time.

“That’s Spencer’s?” Emily asks, having noticed your struggle.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been sort of scatterbrained, I forgot to put a load in the dryer.”

“Is your go bag ready?” Hotch asks.

No. “Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t like my new look?”

“I’ve never known you to wear clothes that don’t fit,” Morgan says.

“What are you trying to say, Derek?” you ask, propping your face in your chin.

“You’re getting sloppy in your old age.”

You turn to Spencer, beaming, and he shakes his head at you immediately.

“And what’s with the water?”

Your smiling turns deer-in-the-headlights. “What?”

“You don’t drink coffee anymore?” Morgan prompts.

That piques the interest of Emily and Hotch simultaneously, but you know you’re caught when realisation colours JJ’s gaze. She stares straight at your glass, then your face. You can practically see her profiling your behaviour these last few weeks, the sudden trips to the bathroom, the worse than usual reluctance to be away from Spencer, and the sudden propensity for safer practice in the field.

You smile. You’re caught. You see Hotch’s expression and know he knows it, too.

You give Spencer a little nudge with your thigh, as though telling him, You say it. You know he wants to.

“You can’t have more than three hundred milligrams of caffeine when you’re pregnant,” Spencer says, his pride unmissable in the slight lift of his chin, “it disrupts midterm foetal growth. Our baby might come out too small, which isn’t what we want, obviously, so she can’t drink coffee. Not for another six months, at least.”

“Wha– wha– what?” Penelope asks, the physical manifestation of a kettle about to boil over, excitement bubbling and raring to explode as she grips the table. “You’re pregnant?”

“With Spencer?” Emily asks, though she’s laughing before she’s finished.

You frame his cheek with one hand and lean in to kiss it gently. “Who else?” you ask.

The best part is watching everybody hug Spencer. You’re happy they love you and you accept their congratulations and their love with pleasure, but seeing a room full of people thrilled for him finally getting the life he’s wanted, and knowing you’re at least part of the reason, is pretty sweet. You put your hand on your baby bump and take a mental picture of him under Morgan’s arm, his cheeks pink, his smile achingly wide.

Still, he cuts through his moment to reach for you. “Maybe someone else will be able to convince you to slow down,” he says, hand moving to your stomach protectively.

You pretend to think it over. “Maybe in a month or two.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer and bombshell reader

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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months

Note

possessive miguel o’hara has me in a chokehold

Possessive!Miguel trusts you but not those you interact with because he knew what every one of them were thinking upon looking at you because he thought the exact same thing.

Possessive!Miguel who’d watch from his hubbub as you interact with the others in the spider society under the guise of doing something else. It completely fools everyone but not Lyla, who would often catching him stealing glances and noting how his jaw clenched when the person you were talking to decided to get a little too comfortable.

Possessive!Miguel who’d definitely leaves bite marks scattered about your body when he’s feeling particularly possessive and would hide away any article of clothing that would allow you to cover them up so that people would get the message that you were taken. But when he noticed that some had healed, he takes up the task of replacing them with more marks.

Possessive!Miguel who is your shadow, following you whilst keeping a distance, thinking he was merely watching over you, which he was but one too many times had he followed you on the pretences of looking out for your well-being, when it was just him making sure to keep you within his line of sight, sending him into an almost feral state when you seemingly disappeared before his eyes.

Possessive!Miguel who only got possessive when he’s faced with the possibility of eventually loosing you one day to someone who truly deserved your love. It’s fascinating for Miguel when he’s aware of the moment his protectiveness became possessiveness towards you; Yet despite how possessive he may get, Miguel never lets it go to darker places where he would be pushing and pushing you away into the arms of someone else.

Possessive!Miguel who’d holds onto you really tight, face pressed into your neck, whispering ‘you’re mine,’ ‘there’s nobody that you’d rather be with then me,’ ‘I need you,’ ‘you belong to me,’ ‘don’t leave me when I still need you in my life,’ ‘see the way you fit within my arms? It means that we were meant to be.’ And so on like a mantra that you didn’t know who it was made for, you or himself for reassurance.

Possessive!Miguel who’d may or may not keep you inside the house when he feels as though something bad was encroaching and his first instinct was to assure that you were safe, even if it meant keeping you locked inside until further notice but he makes sure you have everything that you require until the danger passes over.

A/n: I kinda ran out of stuff to put here and this might seem a little lacklustre but at least I tried and gave it an attempt. Plus half of this probs ain’t within the realm of possessiveness but eh.

#spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv fic #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel o’hara #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x reader

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wcters · 1 month

Text

𝗖𝗛𝗥𝗜𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗣𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris with a girlfriend who is obsessed with naps/naps all the time

warnings/notes: established relationships, i love naps, my favourite things

- you love naps, you’re obsessed

- always down for one

- you can nap anytime, anywhere

- cars, planes, beds, couches, you name it

- you probably have an iron deficiency

- #hot girl shit

- you can and will fall asleep in the most uncomfortable positions and in any positions really: crisscross, curled up, head leaning on your knees, on your back, starfish, etc

- you could call yourself an expert 💅💅

- you look two ways when you’re sleeping: peaceful . . . or a victorian child dying on the plague

- that tiktok trend? that’s you, and you own it

- and chris had definitely posted you to that

- if not him, either nick or matt

- you also look like that polar bear waking from hibernation when you wake up

- or you went through a tornado

- dorothy from the wizard of oz who?

- so many pictures and clips of you alseep in the background of a video, tiktok, livestream, etc

- the triplets were filming a walk though of the tour bus and you’re just fast asleep in chris’s bunk wrapped in your blanket

- a lot of your friends bereals are you sleeping

- have a humidifier in your room at your house/apartment

- sleep with rain sounds on

- a shit ton of stuffed animals

- and that will be the same for chris’s bed

- they’ll take up most of the space on the bed and he will have a leg hanging off

- you refuse to take them off unless he begs

- you feel bad 😭😭 they’re you kids, you have to care for them

- spend a lot of money on stuffed animals, pillows, and blankets

- comfy fit 24/7

- uggs, sweatshirts, sweatpants, like a living and breathing fresh love ad

- everyone’s jealous

- chris loves you for it, but also dislikes it sometimes because it’s his clothes and he’ll want to wear them

- slippers 24/7

- naps with him!

- most cuddle sessions will end up as nap sessions

- or you alseep on top of him while chris is stuck sessions

- he says he hates it (he secretly loves it)

- a lot of the time even watching movies or hanging out will end up with you alseep in his lap because he likes to run his fingers through your hair (if it won’t mess it up and it’s not styled, scalp if he can) and your skin

- will carry you to bed

- you always wake up disoriented and covered in marks from the bedsheets pressing into you (signs of a good nap)

- you react to the word nap like a dog does to the word treat

- always excited for bed

- definition of snug as a bug in a rug

- you were an avid after school napper

- one of the only consistent things in your life

- you’re fighting a literal WAR between two and five pm to stay awake

- you fully expect (and deserve) a medal for staying awake 🏅🏅

- and you’re grumpy if you don’t have one. you were rude? you were acting like a bitch? didn’t have your nap.

- someone comments on how you sleep to much? immediately dislike

- like sis . . . what’s it to you?

- unless it’s a health concern, and even then, mouth. shut.

- if you’re sick, you’re napping/sleeping even more than you already do

- you’re the first one asleep at all nighters

- nick jokes that you might love sleeping more than you love chris

- . . . don’t tell him that.

- just kidding! . . .

- some of your favourite tiktoks are the ones where you get to choose where you’re sleeping

- you sleep talk sometimes (mostly gibberish) but not a lot, maybe like once or twice a month

- but you absolutely have had full on conversations with people and your answers make sense, and you will not remember them at all

- “hey, do you remember when i told you about that idea i had?” “no, when was this?” “last night.” “oh.”

- NAPS WITH TREVOR

- that dog lovesss you

- and loves taking naps with you

- will also nap with you in the car if you’re going on a road trip with chris and his family

- you love the feeling of his weight in your lap

- you’re a MENACE to wake up

- there have been times where chris just gives up and let’s you sleep if it’s not important because it’s taken him too long (he also gets lazy)

- a lot of the time it’s on their couch because you love their couch

- it’s so comfy, you’re favourite thing

- PISSED if you’re woken up by something stupid

- like one of the boys will make a loud noise and then they’ll all stand there like ‘oh shit’

- if you wake up and chris isn’t with you but he’s in the house, you’ll make a beeline to him and just hug him

- probably fall asleep in his arms standing up

#emma writes #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #x reader #x fem!reader #imagine #preferences #youtube preferences #youtube #youtuber

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