#I know nothing right so I was SO unprepared

[chanoeys]

Admittedly, I cry pretty easily at stuff, but still…

The Last of Us, boy I cried like a baby. I was full out sobbing.

Everyone should watch that episode.

#I know nothing right so I was SO unprepared #I figured Ellie and Joel would set me off at some point but THIS EPISODE #I teared up at the piano #and then the ‘older means we’re still here’ got me #it’s like the beginning of up but they made it 90 minutes and I was not okay #they didn’t have to give so much time to ‘b’ characters but they did and it was just phenomenal

[casualavocados]

i cant explain in words what experiencing this episode for the first time when it aired felt like. it was THE most unexpected outcome of any episode ever and also THE most narratively sound, perfect, and true to the characters it ever could have been. it is a masterpiece of writing, acting, and direction. no one saw it coming. this series was just another typical bl - and then suddenly it was something else. and we all hit the ceiling in a way i can never explain but i relive every time i watch it.

#AND THEN IT KEPT GETTING BETTER #if you saw me post something almost identical to this earlier and then delete it no you didnt #im just. #its just so HARD to EXPLAIN #how this is something never seen before and how much that hits me - how unprepared i was for something this REAL #this RAW #this RIGHT #for a queer story to have this much depth to it...i dont know you think you know depth and then you watch bad buddy #be so openly and unerringly human #and you lose your mind a little. #nothing's ever done it like this before and no one ever will again #badbuddyrewatch #bad buddy series #julian watches bb

[tired-biscuit]

What's bigger I wonder, yuujis heart or dick? Guy's packed and honest to God doesn't even know

Can you imagine having a bf like him? Goal I life 😪

18+ MDNI, fem!reader

now i’m thinking about him worrying and wondering why you’re unable to fully sit on his dick.

he’s got his hands on your hips, is sweating bullets and is just waiting as patiently as he’s able because he doesn’t want to rush you with this entire thing — he’d never! — and you’re just wincing and gritting your teeth and pouting whenever you try to slide down further and take more but the overwhelming fullness keeps you from doing so.

your own hands are holding on for dear life as they cling to his shoulders and you’re both looking down, down at the place where you connect. the sight makes you both kind of shy. you’ve been trying to handle this problem for the last ten minutes at least and your clit is still so far from kissing his pubes... every time you do manage to take more of him, it feels like he’s climbed his way right into your goddamn throat, it’s infuriating!

he praises you for every inch of progress you make, but he’s just so big; the stretch burns slightly despite the amount of lube you’ve used. what makes it even worse is that he’s such a giver when it comes to intimacy that he doesn’t even seem to realize that the main problem is his size, not greed. he feels guilty because he thinks he hasn’t given you enough foreplay and that the supposed lack of it has made you unprepared, but he couldn’t be more wrong.

and he doesn’t know that he’s wrong, that’s what’s funny! he keeps on apologizing in that low, breathless voice that makes him sound like he’s eating his own words right after saying them, and that makes you want to burn up until you’re nothing but ash, even though he technically doesn’t even know what he’s saying sorry for either… come to think of it, he shouldn’t even be saying sorry in the first place!

i mean, it’s not his fault that he’s got a big, fat cock that makes your eyes want to cross whenever he tries to press it into you all the way. but you’ll work this out somehow, you gotta! he looks so pretty when you’re trying to ride him, after all.

you’ll endure it so that you can see the pretty face he makes when he cums inside you, won’t you? either that, or he’s going to have to pull out and rub his sensitive tip between your slick folds like he’s used to. back and forth — slowly at first, then quicker and quicker, with the help of his hand stroking the base of his cock and your drool dripping all over it.

all until he reaches the high he deserves for being such a good boyfriend, and his warm cum splatters all over your belly and thighs just like it did so many times before, because you simply can’t take a good pounding from a man that big.

not yet, at least.

#he’s so cute i want to eat him #my brainrot for him is getting more intense by the day istg #yuuji smut #yuji smut #yuuji x reader #jjk smut #yuji x reader

[theemporium]

The Monaco Grand Prix had been a fucking trainwreck.

It was meant to be their weekend. They had been doing so well all weekend. They had been topping the practice sessions. They had been putting in fast laps every session. They had managed to secure the front row after qualifying.

 They had done everything right, and yet it still wasn’t enough because Ferrari fucked everything up in the way they always did. 

Between unnecessarily long and unprepared pit stops to bad strategy calls that left them fighting other cars in old, used tires, it was a fucking shit show and the boys just wanted the race to be over so they could forget about it. They wanted to cross the line and get unnecessarily drunk until the race was nothing but a blip in their memory. 

And that was the plan for the night when they arrived at the club, until they saw you. 

Your relationship with the Ferrari drivers wasn’t exactly conventional nor easy to explain. You don’t even know how you could explain it to someone, because to an outsider looking in, it seemed anything but equal and fair.

It started long before either boy really joined Ferrari.

When Carlos Sainz drove for Torro Rosso and you were joining your father around the world, it was easy to cross paths with the Spaniard. Nothing ever happened, but you were on Carlos’ radar and that was more than enough. Then Charles entered the picture. And years passed without a single thought in your head about ever acting on the attraction for either driver because they became the enemy. 

To the world, you were the Red Bull princess. You were Christian Horner’s pride and joy. You were the face of one of the only pure and innocent things at Red Bull, and nothing could tarnish that image. 

Nothing except the Ferrari boys. 

The two men that were your father’s biggest rivals. The two men that seemed to have you wrapped around their finger long before you could even realise it. The two men that seemed to awaken a fire inside you that you didn’t think existed, and now you never wanted to extinguish it. 

The two men that had trained the perfect, little Red Bull princess into their perfect, little whore. 

And now, in a small and exclusive club in the heart of Monaco, you were just in reach. You were standing beside Max, his arm thrown over your shoulder, as you both laughed and celebrated and drank happily at the expense of both Ferrari boys. 

And something in them snapped. 

You were at least three drinks in, lost in the crowd as you aimlessly danced to whatever song was being pumped through the speakers when you felt their presence. You barely had a chance to open your eyes before you felt a warm and familiar chest settle behind you, hands on your waist that were gripping the fabric of your short dress. 

“You seem happy, cherie,” Charles grumbled, lips brushing against your ear as he pulled you back into him. “Far too fucking happy.”

“Charles,” you murmured breathlessly, leaning into his embrace like it was instinctive. 

“Maybe you like laughing at our expense,” a second voice spoke, and you didn’t even have time to turn your head on your own before you felt fingers digging into your cheeks, turning you to face Carlos who stood in front of you.

You shook your head. “I wasn’t—”

“You didn’t even come to see us, amor,” Carlos grumbled, his voice so clear to you despite the noisy environment of the club around you. “Too busy celebrating with Daddy’s favourite?” 

“I just didn’t know—” you started, only to let out a small whimper when Carlos’ fingers slipped past your lips, two digits laying heavy on your tongue as you gently sucked.

“You’re ours, amor,” he murmured, his hooded eyes focused on the way your pretty painted lips wrapped around his fingers. “Ours to do whatever we want with, right?”

You whined, nodding.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Carlos continued, shaking his head like he was scolding you. “You should have been waiting for us. You should have been on your fucking knees and instead you were running around with Max.” He paused for a moment, his gaze moving to Charles behind you. “Maybe you just need a fucking reminder who you belong to.”

You barely gasped around his fingers when you felt Charles’ hands wander lower until his fingers brushed against the hem of your dress. Carlos watched you, delighted in the way your eyes widened when Charles pushed the fabric of your dress up to expose your scantily clad ass in a thong.

“This just for us, cherie?” Charles whispered in your ear, his voice low and his accent thick and it made you clench your legs together.

“Maybe she does remember she’s our whore after all,” Carlos commented as if you weren’t there.

Charles fingers wandered, his palm moving to cup your pussy and he let out a dark laugh. “And she’s fucking wet already. Barely even touched her.”

“Because she’s such a good toy,” Carlos cooed as he pushed his fingers further into your mouth until you let out a choked garble. “Even when she’s not trying, she wants to be our good girl.” 

“Shit,” Charles groaned, his nose brushing against your neck as his fingers teased your soaking cunt. “She’s fucking dripping, Carlos. Making such a mess.”

“Guess we need to take care of our toy, Charles,” the Spaniard murmured in response. 

And it should have terrified you. All of it should have made some sort of warning bell ring in your head. You were in public. You were in a club. Anyone could see the three of you. Anyone could see the way the Ferrari boys were touching you. 

It was dark and it was loud and most of the people around you were far too drunk to comprehend their surroundings, but all it would take was for one picture to be taken and for the world to see the Red Bull princess at the mercy of the Ferrari boys.

But it didn’t scare you, or maybe you just really didn’t care. Maybe because you didn’t care what the world thought because Charles was sliding his cock into you and Carlos was slowly pumping his fingers in your mouth in a way that made you wish it was his cock, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else at that moment. 

“Look at our pretty girl,” Carlos cooed as your eyes fluttered shut with Charles’ thrusts, his hands on your waist as he fucked you without a single care. “Taking it so well, amor. Like a good toy.” 

“Fuck,” Charles groaned in your ear, panting in your ear as he pulled you back onto his cock. “So fucking tight, cherie. Gonna fill you up and let people see me dripping down your leg all night.” 

You whined around Carlos’ fingers, a sound so pathetic and desperate that both boys almost wished the whole club could hear you. 

“We are gonna fucking ruin you, amor,” Carlos murmured as his other hand softly caressed your cheek as if a small dribble of drool wasn’t leaking from the corner of your lips and ruining your makeup. “Not Red Bull’s princess, but our fucking whore.”

You moaned pathetically. 

“Who knows,” his grin was a little vindictive and sinister. “Maybe we’ll send a little picture to your father. Show him which team his daughter really belongs to.”

.

#cece's smutober #charlos #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #formula one smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot #f1 smut

[bits-and-babs]

✦ 𝐏𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 1: CAMGIRL!READER

simon riley x camgirl!reader | smut, 18+ | 1.3k words

summary: a new client sends a request for a solo-cam performance. his lack of detail and scarce details leave you unprepared.

cw: f!reader, sexwork, dirty talk, breast-play, m & f masturbation, use of sex toy, use of honorific 'sir' but no real power dynamic.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED ⇾

❝On Deployment. Don’t be afraid.❞

Cryptic in its context, the message that popped up from your new client in the lower right corner of your computer screen made you smirk at the time. However, gazing at the skull-faced mask that materialised on the pixelated video screen when you answered the video call that swiftly followed, your amusement slips from your lips. Username ‘Ghost’ hadn’t been making some kind of arcane joke about the size of his dick being too much for you… 

“Oh,” you let out a weak laugh, eyes slipping over the grainy footage as ‘Ghost’ leaned back in his seat, immense, bulging arms crossing over the plane of his chest, “When you said… I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Can’t take off the mask,” the gruff, northern accent that rumbles through the computer speakers sends a ripple down your spine– a concoction of a nervous chill and delighted arousal. It metastasises in your guts when you watch him spread his legs, the blackness in the eye sockets of the skull burning through you even behind a screen. “The URA don’t take kindly t’people contactin’ cam-girls.”

URA. United Republic of Adal.

“You’re– On a military base?” The question passes your lips before you have the opportunity to think better. The plain black t-shirt stretched across his humongous frame gives little away, but the khaki-camo pants and the silver dog tags glinting in the low light of the room seem to corroborate his claims. 

“Can’t divulge that information.”

Of course he couldn’t. Obviously. 

“Y’can call me sir.” ‘Ghost’ clearly had experience contacting cam-girls, leading with his preferred address. It’s impossible to ignore that tingling arousal creeping into the pit of your stomach again, knowing you were in for a ride– so to speak. 

“Yes sir,” you answer to his demand, watching as ‘Ghost’ rubbed his palms over the top of his camo-clad thighs. You note the grainy blackness across the back of his hands; a tattoo. Most clients were secretive in their own camera-exposure, focusing the frame on their head and shoulders while pleasuring themselves off camera. ‘Ghost’s’ whole body was on display, offering just as much of a show for yourself. 

It was thrilling. 

“Lose the bra.” 

“Yes sir,” you nod, compliant to his demands. Reaching behind your back, you unclasp the lacy bra you’d chosen specifically for this cam-session. Your contact with ‘Ghost’ had been minimal, limited in the information he would reveal to you. It was entertaining this way, guessing at what you should wear like taking a crack at an enigma code. A shot in the dark; you’d gone for simple black. Slowly slipping the unadorned bra from your arms, you made a note of your victory when you hear–

“Fuck, that’s it,” ‘Ghost' mumbles beneath his breath, and you’re unsure if he was unaware of the sensitivity of his microphone, or if he’d meant for you to hear his whispered praise. You can’t find it in yourself to warn him when his palm settles over his crotch, inhaling sharply as he lifts his hips up to grind into it. 

Cupping your breasts in your hands, you squeeze the supple flesh so it bulges slightly between your fingers. It’s as natural as breathing now, a learnt behaviour after months of cam-work. Nothing special, but it gets ‘Ghost’s’ attention. 

“Hmm, fuckin’ ‘ell,” he groans softly, quick to work himself out of the khaki uniform trousers. You have half a mind to inform his superior that one of his soldiers had stolen a weapon from the armoury, watching him wrap his hand around his throbbing cock in a tight fist. “Get real close to the camera. Wanna see you fuck yourself, love.” 

You remember his initial request, much like his communications with you; simple and lacking detail. ‘Fuck urself w/ ur largest toy. Panties on’. Though, gazing at the image of him on your computer screen through heavy lids, you weren’t sure even your largest dildo compared to the girth he held in his hand. The ruddy tip is shiny, and you can just barely make out the shadows of bulging veins where his palm couldn’t reach. 

“Fuckkk,” ‘Ghost’ groans when you ease the tip of the toy in, camera angled just right to see you clench around the silicone but also to show your eyes rolling back. “That’s it. Greedy cunt’s swallowin’ it all. Look at you creamin’ around it–”

For a man so unwilling to talk much in any other set of circumstances, ‘Ghost’ was particularly mouthy now. Even as the head of the toy touches something mind-numbing inside of you, a delirious, breathy giggle escapes you at the thought. 

Beginning to push the toy in and out of your cunt, you watch ‘Ghost’ begin to fist his cock with a grunt. His eyes stay glued to the screen, enraptured by the way your walls squeeze the toy so tightly. It’s hard to miss the way his lungs rattle with unsteady breaths, the sheer size of him making a slight tremble appear like a shudder so violent it could trigger an avalanche. 

“Christ, I’d fuckin’ ruin you. Fuckin’ split you open and flood that cunt with my cum,” he moans, the sound wanton and wholely unmatching his intimidating size. It takes you a moment for your vision to focus before you note the slow, methodical rise of his fist, matching the strokes of the toy inside of you. 

Like he was imagining fucking you. 

Your own arousal spiking with the realisation, you thrust the toy inside of you quicker, more eagerly. It's ecstasy, the head of the toy spearing something inside of you that has your legs quaking. “Ugh– hhahah, ohmygod, oh fuck–” 

‘Ghost’ continues to talk you through your squeals of delight, his gruff voice particularly throaty now as he matches the violent thrusts of the toy. “Good fuckin’ girl, love. If you were here I’d fuckin’ paint your face with it– fuck!”

It’s like a chain reaction, the usually stoic man’s filthy comments causing a visible clench of your cunt when you cum around the toy. It makes ‘Ghost’ cum. White floods your vision, but the static sound in your ears can’t drown out the gruff, choked sounds that play from your speakers. 

When your blurred vision finally centres, ‘Ghost’s’ fingers are drenched with thick ropes of cum, the creamy spend dropping from his knuckles onto the khaki of his trousers. Leaning his head over the back of the chair with a shaky exhale, the black hem of the ski-mask rides up slightly, exposing the bulging veins beneath the pale, rosy skin of his neck. It’s a tantalising glimpse of the man behind the obscure username, underneath the skeleton-veil. Instantaneously, you’re like an addict– desperate for more, one hit isn’t enough to satiate the screaming need inside of you for another inch of skin. 

It’s why you leap out of bed at 04:27am when you receive a message weeks after you’d hit ‘end call’, the promise of your next fix delivered in a cryptic message deposited in a private messaging chat that had lay dormant since the footage went black. 

‘Want u on ur knees this time. Panties in ur mouth, fingers in ur cunt.’ 

Biting on a grin, you rush to answer. He was still in the URA, the digits on the clock in the top right of your phone evidence of a timezone difference. It was still relatively early there– like he’d finished his shift and immediately contacted you. Like he couldn’t wait to jack off to the image of you stuffing your cunt with your fingers and whining his name. 

Fuck the four figure amount he’d deposited into your bank as thanks for the last video call, the thought alone is enough to urge your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, circling your clit as you clumsily type with one hand to respond to his demand. 

‘Yes sir x’ 

cod mwii/kinktober taglist:

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth

@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

#꒰꒰ ‧₊˚ my works ˚₊· ꒱꒱ #꒰ ‧₊˚ ghost ˚₊· ꒱ #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #cod mw2 smut #call of duty smut #modern warfare smut #modern warfare 2 smut #kinktober 2023

[mxnbi]

Sweet as honey

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ────────────────────

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Boyfriend!Kaldo Gehenna X Reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SYNOPSIS He couldn’t resist that sweet taste of honey on your lips. He had to have you then and there, even if it means doing it on school grounds

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ CW: public sex, sex on school grounds, a little bit of food play, sex in uniform, fem! reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ tags: mashle mashle magic and muscle kaldo kaldo gehenna kaldo x reader fem reader mashle smut mashle fanfic mashle oneshot kaldo one shor kaldo smut kaldo fanfic divine visionary anime manga honey food play school sex

21+ nsfw smut, minors DNI

Yet another day at Easton Magic Academy. Juggling potion classes, flying classes and the upcoming Divine Visionary selection exam has you pulling at your hair every day and night.

Wanting to destress a bit, you decided to go on a stroll around the school campus. Roaming up and down the hallways while you munch on some honey dipped pretzels.

You did a double take when you noticed your boyfriend, Kaldo, exiting an office right up ahead.

“Kaldo! What brings you here? You rarely come back.”

Your joyful voice echoed slightly through out the empty hall as you ran toward the tall man. Your body could barely contain the excitement from the rare sight of your boyfriend on campus.

Kaldo’s slender arms wrapped around your waist in a warm and welcoming hug after watching you practically float in his direction. He pressed a tender kiss against your forehead as he rocked you side to side lovingly.

“Hey honey. The school summoned us Divine Visionaries to investigate a student with no magic here. He’s quite the case as far as I’ve-“

He paused mid sentence, pulling away from you and sniffing the air like theres a gas leak in the building.

You looked up at him in confusion, all while still snacking on your pretzels. The crunch that came with each bite caught Kaldo’s attention.

He glanced at the snacks in your hand and a saucer of honey floating right next to you. He leaned down to eye level with you and pressed his lips against yours, giving them a quick lick.

You stood rooted to the ground, stunned by his unexpected display of affection, dropping a half eaten pretzel.

“I’ve been spending the past weekend looking for foods and dishes that go well with honey, but I never knew how good it could taste on your lips.”

Kaldo pulled back, looking into your eyes with lust filled in his. He quickly grabbed your hand before pulling you into the office that he came out of, not forgetting to lock the door right behind him.

Before you could even utter a word, he has his lips on yours, a hand on your waist and the other on the back of your head to guide you into the kiss gently.

He licked your lips, tasting the sweet nectar left over from your snacks that were now residing somewhere on the floor.

You could do nothing except melt into his arms, your feet floating off the floor and wrapping around his waist while he lifts you off the ground with minimal effort.

You were always aware of his love for honey, but him being away so often made you forget how much you could turn him on, even just by having a light snack.

Kaldo carries you over to a desk, pushing off random documents to floor and settling himself between your legs before undoing his sword to set aside.

“W-wait wait, who’s office is this? This could get you in so much trouble!”

You whispered in a panic, afraid that you’ll be the reason why he loses his prestigious rank that he worked so hard for. He laughs softly at your alarmed state, secretly creeping a hand up your thighs from under your skirt.

Kaldo undid his jacket and pants with one hand while the other rests on your hips. He looked at you assuringly, flashing you that sweet but oh so cunning smile that you know him for.

“Who could possibly get me in trouble?”

That was the last thing said before he pushed your skirt up and slid into you.

You screamed at sudden insertion, unprepared for the stretch that he gave you. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth as you looked at Kaldo wide eyed, only to be returned with that same cunning smile.

He steadies himself again, a hand on your hip as he slowly thrusted into your wet pussy.

Your legs tightened around him from the pleasure, trying to keep the volume down as much as possible, but boy does Kaldo make that hard for you to do.

He locked lips with you once again, his tongue searching around your mouth and lips for any remnants of that sweet syrup, all while fucking into your cervix.

“Mmngh fuck…slow d-down I can’t…keep quiet..”

You begged, hoping that he would understand the severity of getting caught while committing such an indecent act on school grounds. But it’s clear that it was not his priority in the moment.

Kaldo leaned down to nibble at your ear, and down to your neck. Leaving a small trail of love bites that made his throbbing cock twitch inside of you.

“They can deal with me then, think only about us now.”

Using his teeth, he swiftly removed his left glove and dipped two fingers in whatever honey remained in that little saucer.

“Open up honey.”

That was all he needed to say. You complied without a second thought and opened your mouth while sticking out your tongue.

He brought his fingers up for you to suck, moaning as he watched your cheeks hollow around his two digits with a tiny amount of honey dripping onto your chin and making its way down to your chest.

“Well we can’t have your precious uniform get dirty can we? Honey is not easy to clean.”

Kaldo then made quick work of your button and tie, freeing your perky tits and watching them bounce up and down with each thrust.

He bit his lip, holding back a whimper as he watched the honey slowly make its way down to your chest and in between your cleavage. He could almost come inside of you then and there.

He fucked you harder and faster, pounding into your pussy and watching your face contort in pure pleasure.

Kaldo bent down to kiss and lick up the sticky honey off of your chest while his right hand plays with your tit.

You threw your head back in pleasure, legs dangling in the air, shaking as he plunged his cock deeper and deeper into you.

“Mmm.. two of my favourite things in one…how could I ask f-for more.”

He whimpered quietly, looking down at where you two are connected as he pumped his dick in and out of you.

You felt your tummy tighten, but before you could say anything about you cumming, Kaldo abruptly pulled out of you. Giving you a quick peck on the lips before forecfully flipping you over with your stomach and chest pressed up on the table.

His hand caress your butt while he further pushes your skirt up and aligns his blunt tip at the entrance of your hole.

“Let’s make this quick okay honey, someone’s going to be using this room soon.”

You looked back at him, watching him sigh out in pleasure as he pushed into you again like he could never get sick of this sensation.

Both palms on your waist now, finger nails leaving marks in your skin, he drives his cock into you faster than before, almost forcing another moan out of you.

You grabbed the edge of the table, hoping to steady yourself from his intense pounding, but to no avail as Kaldo got the whole table shaking back and forth with his thrusts now.

“Mmmngh I-I need to come back..more often now..”

Kaldo mustered out a sentence between moans and whimpers, thrusts now becoming messier and messier.

You clawed at the table. The way his cock tip grazes your G spot drives you absolutely insane. You missed having fuck sessions like this whenever Kaldo’s away. He’s just something your fingers can’t replace.

That familar knot in your belly was starting to form again, and that’s when your legs start to lose it’s strength.

“A-ahh fuck..Kaldo I’m-ngh.. c-cumming.”

And with that, Kaldo went faster, harder, and deeper. Leaning over your body while supporting himself with a hand on the table to get a better angle. One that would snip that knot and made you cum all over his cock.

You moaned into your elbow, facing down into the table in an attempt to muffle any lewd noises that could be possibly be heard.

“Ahh~ K-kaldo…oh my god.”

Hearing you moan his name was like sweet honey to him. One last thrust and he was filling you up to the brim with his warm cum.

Sweat dripped down his temples and neck as Kaldo tried to regain his composure, slowly pulling out of you to watch his thick cum slowly ooze out of your cunt and down to the floor, just like glistening honey.

He pulled you up gently by your shoulders, bringing you into a warm embrace as he buries his nose into the nook of your neck.

“Would you mind stopping by my room? There’s a lot more I’ve been wanting to show you.”

Oh boy were you going to be busy that night.

A/N: RAHHHH FINALLY SOME MASHLE CONTENT im honestly so in love w the show and the characters. Im so happy to finally write smth about my boy kaldo but i hope to expand my territory to include the other men too hehehehe

#anime #mashle #kaldo gehenna #mashle smut #mashle fanfic #kaldo x reader #mashle one shot #mashle kaldo #kaldo smut #divine visionaries #anime smut #manga #magic and muscles #easton magic academy #kaldo oneshot #kaldo fanfic #anime and manga #mashle manga

[princessbrunette]

i was thinking this more for rafe than jj but I feel like it could work for both...

I can't stop thinking about frat!rafe/jj forcing you to give him the notes from class everyday and then one day you tell him no unless he gives you smth 😵‍💫

-` ♡ ´-ಇ.₊˚⊹♡

oh this is hot because you can literally never tell if he’s bullying you or flirting with you? and the way he teeters on the edge of both is sadly just too addictive for you to shut him down fully.

he leans over to you in your seminar, backwards cap, colourful polo— the works. it was sickening really, you had no idea why you were attracted to him. okay, you had some idea. he was gorgeous, facially — and tall, strong, probably packing like crazy. he wasn’t the most obscure character in your life to be interested in, just out of your usual tastes.

“hey… you got the notes? i uh, didn’t have time to study.” he gapes at you fairly innocently, gum tucked beneath his back teeth. by didn’t have time, it’s obvious he meant didn’t even attempt to study.

you say nothing, sliding your pink notebook over with no arguments. maybe it was the natural submissive in you.

“shiiiiiit,” his lip quirks up in a smirk as he eyes the neat and tidy organisation of your pages. “you’re really locked into this shit, huh?” he whispers, and your eyes flicker to the professor, hoping he didn’t notice you slacking off.

“well i know you usually need notes so… i just make it presentable so you can actually read it.” you shrug, and it only hits you how pathetic it was until it’s left your mouth. his brows jump up, eyes meeting yours again and his mouth opens, still smiling.

“really?” he asks but it’s more of a statement. “well that’s uh, that’s real sweet of you. thank you. shit, what’s your name again?”

the moments gone.

he continues his usual routine of begging notes off you after that, and you do so without any complaint. it’s starting to get on your nerves though, not quite clicking in your brain that rafe cameron is actually, annoyingly very academically gifted. he could store knowledge like it was nothing, and never flunked a test. he asked you for your notes each seminar because he didn’t know how to talk to shy girls, but he wanted to talk to you.

you lose your patience with his carelessness towards the module you’re studying, and totally ignore him for once. it was hard, and you could feel his slightly irritated confusion from beside you— following you quickly out of the class at the end of it.

“hey, wait up. did i— did i do something i thought we had a thing goin’ with the notes? can you stop and talk to me?” he emphasises, stopping in his tracks when you turn around right in front of him.

“you know it’s not that fun being used.” you accuse, more firey than you intended.

“wh— used?” he lets free an infuriating chuckle, itching his nose, a nervous tick unbeknownst to you.

“yeah. you come to the seminar each week unprepared and i have to do all of the work for the both of us for nothing in return.” you huff petulantly and unexpectedly his heart skips a beat, actually liking this riled up side to you. poor thing just wanted attention.

“well,” he scoffs wordlessly, looking around with his arms up. “i’m sorry, okay? what— here, what do you want from me? i got you.” he steps up seriously, and god— you’re clearly thinking with your pussy because without a second thought your eyes briefly drop down. not just downward, but specifically on his crotch before guiltily up to his gaze once more. he smirks, eyes widening a touch. “oh, shit? alright then.” he chuckles and you feel yourself heat up.

“w—well, well wait i—”

“n’here i am, like an idiot, thinking you’re shy.” he steps closer, lowering his voice in the now mostly empty hallway outside of your seminar hall. “you know, i— i think i can work something out for you.”

it’s not the arrangement he was expecting with a shy girl like you. he had it planned in his head, just charm you enough until he runs into you outside of class and find his way into your panties, telling you that it was okay, and that he just wanted to thank you for helpin’ him out so much.

instead, he had you knocking on his dorm door, clearly having had a long day, which occurred around two to three times a week in these occurrences — telling him that you’re stressed, and if he’s gonna use you, you really — really needed to use him.

which is how you’d end up sucking him inside you, whining and practically crying as you fuck on him like a personalised dildo, letting him work the stress out of your body with large and coarse hands. he supposed it was true what they said in all those corny college movies, the nerds really are freakier.

-` ♡ ´-ಇ.₊˚⊹♡

#anon #fratboy!rafe #rafe cameron prompt

[tender-rosiey]

I really like your writing about protective husband dazai x reader can you do make one with fyodor ☺?

[HILISE'S FANS 🌺]

sin — fyodor dostoyevsky x f!reader

a/n: I am glad you liked it, sweetheart! I hope you enjoy this one as well <33 mentions of blood + death

you loved the way fyodor’s glided along the cello as he played tune after tune.

it was comforting, calming, and sent a wave of security through your being.

but, at the moment, the sound of the cello is antagonizing to you. it creeps you out and makes you want to hide.

your husband isn’t the one playing it and the man who is playing is smiling wickedly as he moves his hands, roughly and stiffly—almost mockingly, “to think that fyodor had such a pretty plaything. I wonder,” he looks at you, “will he actually come to save you?”

his cackle echoes throughout the room and you hate that you can’t give a confident answer to his question.

will fyodor really come to save you?

or were you one of the chess pieces that can be discarded?

you shake the thought out of your head and try looking around once more for anything that would aid your escape.

your captor notices and quips, “give it up; this room is full of nothing—save for you and me, of course.”

you feel your chest tighten and despair is starting to fill your heart. will you really die here? Dark thoughts start flooding your mind.

but then, you snap your heads towards the door when it opens.

it finally reveals your husband, fyodor. the man leaves the cello, dropping it to the floor and you could swear that your husband’s eyes narrow, and approaches fyodor, “long time no see, fedya! hope you didn’t mind that I stole your wife for a bit.”

fyodor’s eyes travel to your form, ignoring the man, and analyze your state. you’re safe, but he would be blind if he couldn’t see the bruises on your arms, probably from their filthy and harsh grips on you.

the man snaps his fingers, catching fyodor’s attention again, “did you get my stuff? your wife for the goods, you know the policy.”

fyodor sighs, “you don’t deserve the salvation I will grant you, but—you also don’t deserve to walk this earth after what you have done.”

the man laughs, “and what will you do, fyodor? a frail man like you can only kill me if he touches me.”

a smirk settles on your husband’s face, “are you so arrogant to think that I would come unprepared?” and so fyodor snaps his fingers and a portal opens.

it’s nikolai’s, you note.

on the other hand, the man doesn’t get to react as a pole impales him right then and there.

a frightened scream escapes you at the sight and you look away. your breathing quickens and you try to move away from the puddle of blood forming.

Fyodor simply walks past it and looks at the man’s dead body, “may you be punished for all your sins,” he sneers then nears you, his eyes softer.

he kneels in front of you, taking your hands into his own, “are you okay, milaya?”

your eyes dart frantically from your husband to the corpse, “w-what about—?”

your husband shushes you before placing a kiss on your forehead then on your eyelids, “he deserved it. if left alone, a sinful fool like him will only cause chaos.”

fyodor pulls you close and strokes your hair, “you get it, don’t you, my dear?” he buries his face in your face, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “he thought of hurting you and that alone is a big sin.”

you pat your husband’s back, “were you…worried?”

“you’re smart enough to figure that out, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he pulls away to examine your face, “surely, you don’t think that I don’t care about my own wife, right?”

you avoid his eyes and he frowns lightly, “foolish wife of mine,” he gazes at you and his lips graze your ears, “I wouldn’t have kept you if I didn’t care.”

for the longest while, he was shocked by how much you became to him, but he never fought it. he embraced it a while ago and he has come to the terms that to him, you being hurt is the biggest sin anyone could do.

so he pulls you close once again and prays that you’re spared from the aftermath of any action he does. because he is sure that once something happens to you, his heart will know nothing but vengeance in your name.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @waosobii

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#fyodor x y/n #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor hcs #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor fluff #bsd fyodor #fyodor x you #fyodor headcanons #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd #bsd x y/n #fyodor imagines #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor bsd

[natalievoncatte]

The storm was blinding. A white torrent fell from the sky in a raging tempest, the likes of which Lena had not seen since she left Metropolis for National City. This was no mere blizzard, but a genuine thundersnow- lighting flashed eerily in the strange pink-white night as thunder buffeted the windows. The Tower’s balcony door was sealed shut against the driving storm.

They were all out there and Lena was here. There was no supervillain this time, at least, not directly- the freak blizzards rolling through Southern California and wreaking havoc on the unprepared people and infrastructure were caused by some asshole calling himself the Weather Wizard, screwing around with the Flash three states away. Lena had seen him on TV; he was a few clicks above a Condiment King-tier villain. One of the joke guys that some cape would take care of on their way to a real fight.

Or he had been, until he got his hands on some tech he wasn’t supposed to have and started punching above his weight class. Lena didn’t care about that. She was thinking about only one thing right now: Kara.

They were all out there. Kara and the others. The city was a mess; people needed heated shelters, the power was out across two thirds of the city, and Kara had already prevent hundreds of deaths on a bridge that was about to collapse from the unexpected weight of snow and the intense cold. The blizzard had come on so fast that the rush our traffic was almost literally frozen right in place.

The city needed its heroes and Lena… Lena was stuck in the Tower. Literally; there was no way to get her home in this mess and she wasn’t going to leave, and she’d sworn off the idea of putting on silly clothes and picking a made up name to go cast spells and deploy gadgets with the others.

She had a feeling… more of a quiet understanding, really, that Kara was against that, even if she never quite said it.

Finally, she saw a shape in the whirling snow as a caped figure walked up to the balcony doors. As Kara stepped inside, a blast of arctic air followed her, chilling Lena to the bone.

Kara was *shivering*.

“Kara?” said Lena. “What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you get cold before.”

“J-just exerting myself,” said Kara. “Alex wants me in the sunbed for a few minutes to charge back up.”

She clearly needed it. Her cape was stiff and crusted with frost and there was snow everywhere, clinging to her hair and brows. She paused for a moment, as she descended the stairs, and looked at Lena. Really looked at her- despite the chill and the frost clinging to her, her eyes were warm, the warm blue of the sky on a summer day.

“Kara?”

“Nothing, sorry,” she said.

Lena watched her pass, feeling a bit off kilter, then rushed to the kitchen. She whipped up some of Kara’s favorite hot chocolate and didn’t spare the whipped cream or a cherry on top, and piled up some donuts and cinnamon rolls beside.

Kara looked haggard, groaning as she laid down under the lamps. Her face lit up brighter than the false suns when she saw the tray Lena carried.

“Oh Rao, I could kiss you for that.”

Lena almost missed a step, smoothly recovering from her stumble instead of dumping it all on Supergirl’s crest. Kara looked at her intently, an unreadable but wide-eyed look on her face.

“I know you’re hungry. Come on, eat.”

“Can’t stay long,” Kara said, between eating entire donuts in two bites, “they need me.”

“I know,” said Lena. “They always do.”

Kara sat quietly for a while, eating, and it made Lena feel more at ease to see some color coming back into her cheeks, even if the snowmelt wetted her hair. Absently, Lena brushed a damp lock out of Kara’s eyes.

“Are you going back out?”

Kara nodded. “I have to. They need me in five places at once. The city is completely unprepared for something like this.”

“I wish I could help.”

“You are helping.”

Lena sighed. “I could do more, you know. I’m starting to master the magic, and now that the Foundation is going strong, I can whip up tech pretty fast.”

Kara sighed and sat up. “I know, but I need you here. I can’t be distracted by worrying about your safety all the time.”

“You wouldn’t say that to Alex. Or J’onn. Or Nia.”

Kara let out an exasperated sound, but her voice was very soft. “It’s different when it’s you.”

Lena tried to swallow but her throat clenched, and she fought down the sensation of her heart doing a backflip. Kara rose from the bed and stood to her full height, and Lena was once again taken aback by how dashing and heroic she looked in her suit, like a modern day knight. It made her feel strangely small in a way that she didn’t dislike.

Kara carefully took Lena’s hands in her own, tenderly rubbing the pads of her thumbs over Lena’s knuckles, sending chilling shocks up her arms.

“Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Kara nodded and departed, rushing out of the Tower and back into the storm.

She was gone for hours again. Everyone checked in with Lena periodically, and eventually, Lena found a couch to lay on and curled up under a cardigan as a blanket. J’onn made this place much more comfy than the DEO, she gave him that.

Kara breezed back in sometime after dawn, trudging back inside, ice-caked and frost-encrusted, pale and worn down. She headed right for the kitchen.

Lena padded after her in her stocking feet.

Kara sighed. “Alex, Nia, and Brainy at helping with the shelters. J’onn is out there… there’s roof collapses and accordion wrecks and fires and people trapped. It’s going to be days of this, cleaning it up. How does a blizzard start fires.”

Planting a hand on the fridge, Kara leaned on it and sighed.

“How much time do you have?”

“Now that the sun is up, I don’t need the bed. I can just pop up above the cloud cover if I need it. I just wanted to get warm for a minute.”

“Sit,” said Lena.

Kara sat. Lena made more hot chocolate. The donuts had run out, so Lena tore open more of the little powdered cocoa packets and kept on making more until Kara waved her off.

“Are you getting warmed up?” said Lena.

The way Kara looked at her spoke volumes, but Lena couldn’t read them.

“Yes. I have to go.”

“Okay, but after this is over, you owe me some alone time.”

Kara smiled. “It’s a date.”

They both froze. It was a common phrase, an ordinary idiom, but it felt like something had just… unveiled itself, like fog rolling back from an unknown, verdant country. Kara was blushing scarlet.

“I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” said Lena.

She had to do this before she lost the nerve. She rushed around the kitchen island and rushed to Kara’s side, pressing a hand on her shoulder, and rose up on her tippy toes to press a kiss to Kara’s cheek- or rather, the side of her mouth, just this side of a real kiss. Kara went stock still and Lena thought for a moment that she’d done something terrible, misread the moment, but she could roll it back, play it off as a friendly gesture.

A hand, soft as silk and warm as honey, cupped Lena’s cheek and tilted her chin up, so her gaze met the boundless depths of Kara’s eyes, so full of welling emotion that Lena could drown in them.

“Wait for me.”

“I will.”

Then she was gone, giving herself back to the tempest outside.

Lena waited for her. It was hours again. The snow finally slowed, the sky beginning to lighten as the artificial snow weather patterns shifted back to normal and nature reasserted itself. The city would be in for a shock- it was going to be in the seventies by the next day.

Kara looked utterly worn out when she came back, finally, trudging down from the balcony with her shoulders slumped and her hair hanging in ragged wet clumps from her head as her cape drooped with moisture.

“You waited,” she said.

“I did. Let’s get you dry, huh?”

Lena worked a towel over Kara’s head, more than a little jealous as the effortless way her golden hair formed those beautiful lose curls as the water was wrung out of them, giving her a salon perfect finish with absolutely no work.

One that was done, Kara merely had to remove her suit to shed the rest of the water in a puddle at her feet, leaving her standing there in sweats and a cute fluffy kitten shirt that she had first ironically gifted to Lena and then stolen back, but only after Lena had worn it a few times.

“I’m so tired,” said Kara.

“I know, darling,” said Lena. “Plenty of places to get some rest here. J’onn made his superhero hideout cosy.”

“I don’t want to rest,” said Kara.

Lena’s heart began to pound. She knew deep down that she wanted this, but it seemed so distant and remote that she’d nearly given up even fantasizing about it. Now that Kara had revealed her identity, she no longer changed her posture or body language around Lena and stood tall, shoulders reared back and her lithe, impressive physique on full display even in cheesy loungewear.

Kara took the first step, drawing up into Lena’s space and crossing an invisible boundary, once first laid out over a brunch that was both tense and pleasant, and had been pushed and stretched and nearly broken so many times it could hardly be said to exist at all, and yet the moment she did, it was clear what was happening.

Kara was not putting her arms around Lena’s waist in a platonic gesture. The embrace she pulled her into was not what friends are for. The natural way they slotted together and Kara brushed her lips against Lena’s to ask permission was in no way friendly.

Lena rose a little on the balls of her feet and turned whatever this was into a real kiss, and Kara kissed her back. Kara’s hands roamed down over Lena’s backside before she realized what she was doing and the shot back up to a chaste spot on Lena’s back, prompting her to giggle into Kara’s mouth.

“Miss Danvers,” said Lena, “did you just grab my ass?”

“I… umm…”

Lena grinned. “Yes. Just say yes.”

“I actually wanted to ask you out on a real date first.”

Lena snorted. “Kara, we’ve been on a date for five years. Now, pick me up and carry me somewhere private already.”

Grinning, Kara picked her right up off her feet.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet

[adonis-koo]

sweet nothing • 8

| in which you run into an old costumer |

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word count: 3k

Previous | Next

Note: just know that the only reason these updates take so long is because I keep writing plot based chapters and I really just wanna post fluff based chapters 😭

“Thank you for taking me out!” You grinned as you took a large sip of your hot chocolate, it was still definitely not cold enough for it yet but you didn’t care.

Something about hitting your third trimester had you wanting to nest like crazy, it had you going around the estate cleaning and getting guards to help move furniture around.

You really had no right to be doing it but nobody told you otherwise.

Jungkook had come back midday, surprisingly early, he had paused in the entry hall of his home locking eyes with the pregnant menace that had abruptly put herself at the forefront of his life once again.

It was then he realized you definitely needed to get out of the estate.

“If it keeps you from not moving all my stuff around,” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat, eyes flickering from his phone to you.

You frowned, “I’m sorry, I don’t even know what possessed me.” You sighed, “Well I do, they say third trimester can make you start nesting.”

“Nesting?”

You glared are the way he snorted as if not believing you, “It’s a fact, you can look it up.”

“The fuck is that even supposed to be? What are you, a bird?”

“It means you just get the innate urge to just…” you puffed your cheeks, ignoring that look he was giving you, “Clean and decorate and just…I don’t know I can’t describe it! Just wish I had my own place to do that with and prepare for the baby.”

Jungkook sighed, his eyes went from looking at you to dropping down to your stomach, it was round when you had first come to the estate, but it was evident six weeks had passed, “Then maybe it’s time we talk about a nursery.”

You paused, getting ready to take another drink from your cup but it never meets to your lips.

Jungkook sighed, “I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but finding your brother has quite literally lead me to dead ends I didn’t even think would exist. You’re almost thirty weeks pregnant, that’s less than three months.”

“Okay yeah I can do basic math, but it’s already been almost two months. Surely it won’t take another two months to find him,” You pressed your lips together nervously.

“Would it be so terrible if you gave birth in the estate? It’ll probably be a better experience than the hospital.” Jungkook commented, picking up his coffee as he took a sip.

It wasn’t that you were against giving birth in the estate, professional staff in the comforts of a bed? That was a luxury every woman could only dream of having, it was more the aftermath of it.

The idea of still living at the estate post pregnancy…it was a dangerous thought, it was too close to the life you had once wanted with Jungkook.

You just weren’t sure how to articulate that too him.

Jungkook finally raised a brow at you, noticing your lack of reply.

“I just…don’t want to get too comfortable at the estate.” You finally spoke carefully, “I don't think that's good for anybody involved.”

“I understand but I also don’t like being unprepared- in any aspect concerning me or my estate, and that includes you whether you want it or not.” Jungkook replied, “Just because a nursery is there doesn’t mean it’ll ever be used, it’ll just be there so first of all, you stop moving all my shit and you have a place to do your bird stuff-“

“Nesting.” You glared, lips quirking into a pout as your hands wrapped around your stomach.

Jungkook’s lips curved a little, “Bird stuff. And second, if it does turn out that your stay is extended, it’ll be ready.”

You still weren’t completely sold on the idea, if anything you felt like it would just feed into the delusion even further.

“Why hello there mama.” Another voice suddenly cut in, grabbing a chair from the empty table next to you both and plopping it on the side of your table.

Jungkook immediately straightened up, eyes glaring daggers that could definitely kill, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Yoongi!”

The man brushed his black hair from his eyes a quirky smirk on his face as he shrugged, “Uh I’m just stopping in to say hello to my favorite barista who got put on bed rest early.”

A smile twisted on your lips, you were familiar with his face, he had been a regular for almost two years, the realization however quickly hit that Jungkook was very acquainted with this man.

You felt flabbergasted for a moment, you couldn’t believe you never made the connection that the regular customer Yoongi was also Underboss business partner Yoongi.

“It’s nice to see you again Yoongi! I can't believe I didn’t recognize you as Jungkook’s partner…” You sheepishly smiled.

Jungkook clearly didn’t share the same sentiment, his nostrils flared and he looked ready to maul his partner.

“Nah probably for the best you didn’t realize. You as well, you look only a thousand times prettier, have that pregnancy glow about you.” Yoongi threw your a wink.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what made him more violent, the fact that you both were already well acquainted or Yoongi so casually flirting with you.

It was part of his personality but it still didn’t make any attention he or any other male gave you, any easier for Jungkook to witness.

“If you aren’t here for business, get the fuck away from our table.” Jungkook gritted his teeth, as if it took every fiber of his being to not right hook.

Yoongi didn’t seem phased, “Oh I was just in the area, been coming to Serendipity for a long while now, and then I suddenly see my favorite barista who’s been gone for two months, of course I have have to say hello.”

“Okay well you said hello, now go the fuck away.”

“Jungkook!” You said sternly, “Don’t be so stubborn, Yoongi can sit with us for a few minutes at least.”

His eyes were a raging fire as they burned into you, his chest puffing but he said no more as Yoongi observed you both, a smirk on his face as he leaned back in his chair.

“How are you enjoying the estate Y/n?”

You smiled tenderly, “The company makes it honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without Jungkook and Yeonjun.”

“Yeonjun?” Jungkook looked like he sucked on a sour lemon as he spat the name out.

“I still want my apartment back but I’ve made the most of the it. What about you? Why haven’t you come to visit if you knew where I was?” You asked, curious as to what the man had been up too.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to Jungkook, “Well…let’s just say I was asked to not drop by unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“And it isn’t.” Jungkook gritted.

“Okay well first of all this doesn’t count cause we’re not at the estate, second of all you’re not the only one who has relations to Y/n, I mean have you ever had this woman’s chai? Or her baked cinnamon rolls? Talented hands right there.” Yoongi stretched out in his seat, that playful nature about him.

“Oh don’t flatter me.” You shooed his praise.

“No you deserve all the praise in the world, in fact you deserve-“

“We’re going.” Jungkook stood up from his seat, sick of this if he had to hear one more word come out of his stupid partners mouth.

“Jungkook!” You complained, but nevertheless took his hand when he offered it, “Please visit Yoongi, you’re conversation is always welcomed.”

Yoongi only smiled, sunk into his seat as he watched the tall broody figure practically drag you away, it made him laugh in amusement.

Yoongi by no means kept an eye on you the last two years for his own benefit, but he supposed somethings would always remain thankless.

He had accomplished what he wanted though, evidently no matter how much Jungkook talked- and he talked a lot, it was clear he had grown possessive over you in the last few months.

Yoongi shook his head in amusement, watching the viper leave the parking lot through the window, he was happy to see that old spark in his partner return.

“What was that about!” You complained, immediately dialing the heat down to sixty in the car.

“You shouldn’t be talking to him,” Jungkook grumbled, hands gripping the steer wheel as if he was trying to strangle it, “If you care about your baby’s safety you’ll make an active effort to not talk to him.”

“Hes been one of my regulars for like two years,” you complained, “How was I supposed to know he was your partner? I never even officially met him! What makes him anymore dangerous then you? Hm?”

Jungkook deflated, obviously not having a good reason, “The difference is I’m protecting you.”

“Oh so you’re saying he wouldn’t?”

“The point,” Jungkook gritted his teeth in annoyance, “Is don’t talk to him.”

You frowned as you twisted to fully look at Jungkook, was he…jealous?

“Are you mad that I’m paying attention to someone else?” You asked upfront, you could only be discreet about so many things.

“I’m not mad”.

“No you’re definitely mad.” You replied pointedly.

“I’m annoyed that my business partner is talking to me outside of business.” Jungkook replied.

“But he was talking to me, not you.” You crossed your arms.

“He was doing that on purpose.” Jungkook huffed.

It was silent for a long moment as you folded your hands into your lap.

Of course you didn’t have to point it out, but truthfully it felt too ridiculous to not? “Are you jealous?”

“No.”

There was another pause.

“Why would I be jealous?”

“You tell me,” you replied, a pout on your lips, “You always do this when someone talks to me, men specifically.”

“Do you actually want an honest answer?” Jungkook looked even more annoyed, even so much as throwing you a frosty glance before his eyes returned to the road.

You blinked before a troubled frown slowly curved on your lips, you could think of several ways he’d be honest and none of them you’d be able to fully believe.

“What I want,” you took a breath, “Is to be able to have a conversation without you looking like you’re shooting daggers out of your eyes.”

“I wasn’t shooting daggers out of my eyes.”

You puffed your cheeks, “Well you claim you don’t do a lot of things, that you do in fact, do.”

“How about we just stop talking.” Jungkook replied.

You pouted but spoke no more as you yawned.

“Do you wanna go home?”

You nodded with a small groan, “Yeah, I need to take a nap,” you nodded with another yawn.

Jungkook only nodded in return, eyes occasionally glancing at you, attempting to sleep in the car, when did his life start revolving around you this much?

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader smut #bts jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #mafia!jungkook

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 6

2.7k | angst No matter how loyal, guard dogs still have their teeth (part 1) (part 7)

Simon’s steps to your door were heavy, as his heart had been since that call.

Despite his blazing wrath, he was unprepared for the waves of guilt that washed over, the shame that wrestled to drown him. He was unable to protect you from his past – he brought it upon you, even after how much too sweet you’d been, how softly you’d touched him. How could he ever look you in the eye again?

The stray never deserved any of that.

When you gave him a squeeze at the door, he didn’t return it. Still, you tugged him in with the same lovely smile, even when it wasn’t as wide.

“Fancy a cuppa?”

“No.”

Your pretty hand shouldn’t be in his filthy one. Do you even know what I do with these hands?

You sat at the dining table and Simon remained on his feet to your side, eyes fixed on the cup of pu erh before you. His fists clenched and released. You didn’t like pu erh.

At the end of the day, he was still a reaper in dress uniform - one with an unrelenting demon that lurked in the far corner. He could have fucked him up that evening at the bakery. Feel his nose crumble against his knuckles, maybe even the snap of his scrawny neck in his hands.

But no, this happened because he didn't. Like his mum said, you were good for him, of course you were. But was he for you? He was nothing but trouble.

You smiled up at him. Always so sincere, so delicate, making his stomach twist more.

“My dad’s visiting this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to meet him? And… Um, what I should introduce you-“

Not addicted, he'd tell himself too many times, as if it didn’t sound like a bloody lie to his own ears. You were the beginning of an incurable addiction, a cliff with the bewitching view he was a step away from falling off of.

His gaze left you. “I’m going back home with my mum tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you said, your disappointment evident. “Okay, maybe next time then.”

His heart pounded in his ears as he forced the words out, nails digging into his palms. “We should stop this.”

“What… What are you saying, Simon?”

“This. Meeting you, staying over. I’ll have less time when I become captain. This isn’t going to end well,” he reasoned, but it sounded more like he was convincing himself this was the right thing.

He knew it was, even when it didn’t feel like it, like a lot of things in life. He knew one day he’d be glad he did this. One day, even when right then it felt like the worst thing he could be doing. Would someone, something, rip this decision away from his hands?

“You don't get to say that yet, not right now. I know you're going through a lot.” You reached for his hand. “But we can wait until things settle and we’ll talk-“

He pulled away from your touch. “I've made up my mind. I never meant for things to get this far.”

In the still room, his stare remained on the cup you hadn’t touched since his arrival.

“You knew this all along and you still let it happen,” you said as realisation dawned.

He looked up to meet your hardened gaze. He’d seen you sad, annoyed, angry, but this was the first time your eyes were devoid of warmth. Being the receiving end of that stare was a stab to his chest.

“I should believe people when they show me who they are.” You chuckled humourlessly. “Get out, Simon.”

The world slowed. It was hard to draw his breath as he remained unmoving, like he was chained to the floor of where his sanctuary once was. Despite the arms that ached to wrap around you and never let go, he forced himself to walk away as his blood ran cold.

The door slammed behind him. He didn’t expect a positive response, of course, but it was definitely not the shatter of his own heart.

Still, it didn’t hurt as much as it would have had he waited until you inevitably left him for one reason or another. At least he’d never have to worry about being like his dad, about hurting you, betraying you, if you weren’t there to begin with. Like he’d always known, you deserved better, someone as lovely as you – unlike this stray who would never be enough.

It’s the right thing.

He could give his mum his undivided attention now. She would never leave nor kick him out the door. If he was not wanted, he had to be endlessly needed, used dry until he was nothing but a ghost.

“Who the fuck broke my bloody door!”

Simon and his mum had been waiting for his dad’s return to the house that had turned into a complete mess. Meanwhile, she’d packed as much of her belongings as she could, her luggage in the living room.

“Sign the bloody papers before I make sure you never can anymore,” Simon barked, standing tall next to his sitting mum.

His dad rounded the corner and Simon’s jaw ticked thinking of what he did to you. He let out a weak sigh at the sight of his wife and son at the dining table, a sight he hadn’t seen in over a decade. His eyes softened.

“I don’t want anything from you, James. Please sign them and we’ll be out of here.”

He pulled out the chair across the table and propped his elbows up, face in his hands as he took a deep breath.

“I need to apologise, Melanie,” he began. “I’ve made your life hell, and I know there’s nothing I can do to change that now. I was my fault.”

“She didn’t ask,” Simon said through gritted teeth. He shoved the papers closer when he ached to break the filthy table with his dad’s skull.

“I’m sorry about your last night here. It was unforgiveable, what I did.”

Simon slammed his fist onto the table. He had watched the grand performance too many times. “You’re not fooling anybody with your tricks. Sign the bloody papers. I swear this is the last time I’m asking.”

His mum patted his hand, and he reluctantly took the seat next to her.

“I want you to have the house, Mel. You’ve always kept it too beautiful for a man like me. It’s the least I can give you after everything.” He let out a steady breath, flipping open the document. “I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for how much I’ve hurt you,” he added quietly.

Was that remorse that settled in his hollow eyes?

His mum bit her lip as a tear slipped. When Simon wrapped an arm around her, she sobbed into his chest.

No words were exchanged as his dad went through the papers, and it remained so until Simon wheeled his mum’s luggage out the door behind her.

“Goodbye, James.” She didn’t spare him another look.

“Simon?” he called in a small voice. “I’m sorry I’m not the father you deserve.”

The lieutenant threw the door shut.

Simon spent the next few days with his mum, Tommy, his wife and son. Since his last visit, Tommy’s got a new job and seemed to be spoiling his son rotten with plenty of new toys, including the shiny red bike outside. Unfortunately, even after over a year, he and Beth still hadn’t had much luck trying for a second child.

Joseph was a brilliant kid with a toothy smile, just like Tommy was, and it always surprised Simon how big his nephew got between each visit. It was a shame he only got to meet his family twice or thrice each year.

“Joe, you’ve been sitting on your uncle’s shoulders all day,” Beth said with an amused smile. “Give him a break.”

“It’s the best seat ever!” His little arms wrapped tighter around Simon’s head, eyes glued onto the cartoon on the telly.

“You need to do your homework.”

“I’ll do it here.” He poked the top of Simon’s head.

He laughed. “I don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “Come on now. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You don’t want to be late.”

“Okay…” he huffed before dragging his feet to his room.

While he flicked through the channels,  Beth went back to the kitchen where his mum was. He wasn’t one to watch the telly apart from football, but his thumb hovered over the button when the Great British Bake Off came on.

He remembered the episode. He’d watched it with you, the only person he ever watched the show with. It was yours, like a secret only the both of you knew.

It’s the right thing.

Faintly, his mum chuckled at something her daughter-in-law said, and his mind couldn’t help but drift to all the times it was you and her in his flat instead. Sharing stories, laughing, while he smiled at the sight from afar.

It’s the right thing, Riley, I promise.

He turned the telly off and went for a walk instead.

At dinner, the table admired little Joe’s drawings he’d done at school – he always saved them for when his daddy came home. With his precious family beaming, it seemed like the life Simon should have had, the one he always imagined was supposed to be like. But even without the devil trailing behind like an ellipsis, this, somehow, didn’t feel right either.

Despite his smile, his chest was heavy with the rotting carcass of the heart he didn't know he still had until weeks ago.

It’s the right thing, it’s the right thing, it’s the right thing.

Later that night, Simon’s head tilted when he entered the guestroom his mum occupied.

“Have you not packed yet? We’re leaving tomorrow. I’ve still got training on Monday.”

On the bed, she lowered her book and frowned. “I’m not leaving. Manchester is my home, Si.”

“Home is where you’re safe, mum, and you’re not here.”

She sighed, the sympathetic kind, before putting her book away. “My well-being and happiness aren’t your responsibility.”

He scoffed. “‘course they are.”

“I can’t thank you enough for thinking about me, but what’s happened, happened. I’m trying to start over, and that includes not being a baggage to you.”

He blinked. “Mum, what are you on about?” he asked carefully as he sat next to her.

“You need to live your life. You push good things away, Si.”

What… “I don’t. You’re all I’ve got.”

“Always so stubborn.” She shook her head. “Don’t make the same mistake I did, Si. My first love… Your granddad didn’t want us together, and I ended up with your dad. I grew to love him, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I chose easy over real. Sometimes I wonder if I’d been less afraid, what life would be like now.

“I'm by no means regretful, because I got to have my two perfect sons, but you had to pay for my mistakes too, and for that I’m yet to forgive myself. I’m supposed to give you a good life, but I didn't. The least I can do now is not hold you back.

Her hands clasped over his. “So live for me, Si. Don't worry about me. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will always be your mum. I can’t stop loving you even if I tried. I just need to see you happy, that’s all I need from you.”

His gaze dropped to the ground. “I’m not good enough for her,” he muttered.

“That’s not for you to decide.”

“Isn't it too late?”

“Never.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“You make it sound harder than it is.” She cupped his cheek. “It won’t be painless, but if she’s the one, it will be worth it.”

Against his mum’s shoulder, he wished his tears would stop flowing, but with the way she rubbed his back, Simon was once more just a little blond boy with the scraped knee.

From the front porch in the chill night, it was shameless how he called you at that hour, when he didn’t even say goodbye when he left. It was shameless how even after you rejected his calls, he still called for the 5th time, or 10th – he’d lost count. But at last, the line connected.

“Luv,” he said breathlessly, palm pressing against his eyes that had barely dried.

“Please stop calling me.”

“No, wait. Please, listen. Don’t-”

“You’ve made up your mind. Begging only reduces me to nothing, so I didn’t try to change it. I owe you nothing, Simon.”

And the line clicked off.

Still sat on the steps, he blinked at the phone in his hand, deciding if he was going to worsen the situation if he called again. It was shameless that he did anyway, but it went straight to voicemail.

Simon might not have had plenty of dating experience, it was shameless really, but he knew he still had a chance if you were mad.

You’d listen when he showed up at your door, still hauling his backpack.

“Luv, please. Please, listen.”

He thought his heart was about to explode when your footsteps approached. The door opened halfway.

“Hi,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

His breath hitched, and he was near to tears. Despite his resolve, he couldn’t get the words out.

“I've thought about it. You're right. I thought I knew what I was getting into, but it was always so hard to see you leave, and I realised it’s only going to get harder.”

No, no, no...

“Thank you for being honest and saving us from further heartache. I know I didn’t have to block you, but I hope you understand my decision to not be in contact anymore.”

“Luv, no. I wanted- I want to try. I don’t care how hard it gets.“

“I care. I want stability, maybe even a family, and I see now we’re not heading in the same direction.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes and a pained smile. “I wish you all the wonderful things, Simon. Truly, I'm so thankful I got to know you.”

He barely made out the words tumbling out of your lips, wishing he was hallucinating.

“Goodnight, Simon,” you whispered as you closed the door.

Even then, you didn’t give him a foul look for his audacity to show his face after biting the hand that fed him. It was the last time you were going to see him, why did you still have to treat him with respect?

He wished you’d have said something mean, even sick. You should have called him names, tell him he was the most ungrateful man there was, that he was just like his dad, so he had something to hate, so the fire could flare up high once more and he’d be safe behind it like he always was.

But it was you. You could stab him in the chest, and he wasn’t sure it would have been enough to hate you. To overwrite how wonderful you’d been to the wounded stray.

His gaze cast down, unmoving at your door. He did this to himself. It was his fault for dropping his cold stare, for smiling, for looking when you weren’t, cracking his jokes, touching your hand and kissing you, for lying down and baring his belly. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t want him anymore after what he’d done.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see the vivid curve of your lips, your soft laugh, the caress of your fingers. The ache for you morphed into an itch that made him want to claw at his skin, to replace the sweetness with bright, searing pain.

Would you please do the humane thing and shoot him so he didn’t have to drown in the storm that brewed in him?

It was for the best, he told himself. It was what he wanted after all, to keep his problems away from you, to keep you happy, even when he wasn’t in the picture. Leaving you was his repayment for being a thankless beast.

“Just because I go, doesn’t mean my heart follows,” he whispered.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast

#call of duty #cod #cod fanfic #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty angst #cod angst #call of duty x you #cod x you #female reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #neighbor!ghost

[kamorth]

Just had a conversation that turned into me giving my neighbour a 3 hour lecture on why, if your only problem with Trans people is the fact that you hate having to describe yourself as a CIS woman, your actual problem has nothing to do with Trans people.

(Your problem is actually with the people who keep insisting that Trans women aren't women BTW. If they would just shut the fuck up and actually live and let live, you wouldn't feel the need to make the distinction all the time. If cis women and Trans women are equally women, you can just talk about women's rights without ever needing to specify unless you're actually talking about the differences between the trans and cis experience in which case it's a clarification, like how you don't have to say "white women's rights" unless you're talking specifically about the differences between the rights of white women and women of colour. You're reading this so you're fluent enough at reading to understand how descriptive language is used to explain nuance right? You don't describe yourself as a tall woman or a blonde woman or a middle-aged woman unless you're pointing out the differences between yourself and a short or brunette or younger/older woman, so why are you so convinced you need to constantly point out that you're cis? Who is actually telling you that you need to do this?)

There were a few things she said that I was fully prepared to hear - the litterboxes in classrooms thing was one that jumped out immediately - but one thing she said really had me stuck and the only thing I could say was "what the fuck was the writer of THAT headline smoking I need to know so I can stay WELL the fuck away from it". I was so unprepared.

I swear, this is what she said, word for word, as a response to me explaining the boom in lefthandedness once kids weren't being brutally abused for writing with the wrong hand:

Are you ready? Last warning.

She said

"What do you think of the theory that China is making all the Trans kids by putting a toxin in school supplies as part of a campaign to weaken the West?"

I seriously still have no idea how to respond to this. If you truly believe this our thought patterns are so vastly different I am frankly AMAZED we are capable of communicating AT ALL.

[spacebarbarianweird]

What do you think about some headcannons of a curious Astarion intrigued by Tav’s skincare routine ? :3

This is a funny request, to be honest, but who I am not to explore the topic of body image issues and curses that can fuck up the person's skin in a fantasy setting?

TW: Scars left by physical abuse

Astarion x Tav Who Has to Cover Her Face

Masterlist

Headcanons

Many years ago, you were unlucky to piss off a man who studied necromancy.

He was arrogant and cruel and didn't understand that "no" is a "no".

For your resistance, he mutilated you.

Attacking you with a spell causing necrotic damage.

The half of your face and the right side of your neck look burnt.

You also lost the right eye.

"Once you realize no one will ever want you to feel free to crawl to my bed" he wished you.

Well, you can't punish a necromancer, who was born into a noble family.

You ran away from home.

As far as possible.

You were many things. A beggar, a thief - you did many things to survive.

With time, you learn how to hide your face.

First of all, healing ointments can at least repair some damage.

It's still awful but more bearable.

And blessed be the circus people and spies to invent disguise kits!

It takes ages to apply the make-up, but in the end, you look as if nothing happened.

Life in the camp boosts your anxiety.

What if someone sees you?

And you have to get up really early to make your face look at least decent.

Astarion doesn't pay much thought to it. You like wearing make-up. So what?

One day, he shows up at your tent unannounced (finally feeling comfortable enough around you)

While you are unprepared.

You immediately cover your face, demanding him to leave.

Astarion is taken aback by your reaction, but something tells him something is wrong.

"My sweet, can I take a look?"

You shake your head. No. No one is supposed to see you like that.

But he grabs your hands and pulls them away.

You expect disgust but instead, his eyes glow with anger.

"Who the fuck did this to you?!"

"Who". He knows it was done deliberately.

You tell him everything. About harassment. Lewd words. Pain.

He caresses your mutilated cheek and kisses you.

You spend the rest of the morning crying in his hands.

Astarion doesn't pretend that your face looks "normal".

But he isn't averted by it.

He helps you to apply make-up in the morning and wash your face in the evening.

Sometimes people get rude around you, and Astarion beats the shit out of them (usually demanding apologies).

Astarion also takes care of your prosthetic eye. His rogue hands can deal with the mechanisms much better than you.

When having sex, you notice he always looks directly at you, never trying to close his eyes.

You feel loved. You feel desired. You feel beautiful.

And you feel safe.

If at any time in the future that abuser decides he can't wait anymore and tries to take you by force, he will have to fight someone immune to any form of necrotic damage.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #spacebarbarian headcanon #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion brainrot #astarion fanfiction #astarion imagine #tav with disability

[uplatterme]

a/n: did somebody say another writing style?? is this zandik? (idk). is this modern au? (idk). you can decide for yourselves really. dottie may not be a girl but he’s babygirl. therefore, onahole.

cw: sub!dottore, dom!reader (gn!terms,reader penetrates) | pwp, objectification, deepthroating (character!receiving), slight asphyxiation, crying, toys underneath clothes, humiliation, overstimulation, aphrodisiac, semi-public (why are there so many. i may have gone too wild, i fear.)

5 Important and Essential Steps To Remember Into Becoming the Perfect Onahole <3 (ft. Il Dottore)

1. Open Up! Nothing is too big. If you think it is, you’re simply not trying hard enough. Your throat is there for a reason!

Dottore’s in tears as he tries to take in your entire length, not even halfway. The edges of his mouth hurt, he can’t breathe, and worse of all, you’re judging him while he pathetically gags, saliva dripping all over his legs.

“Teeth, Dottore.” You say.

He sobs even more, the fact that he has to adjust and open up wider due to his sharp teeth is agonizing. He needs air, he wants to breathe deeper but he knows that’ll only mess things up, pulling you even deeper into his throat.

He uses his hand, pulling down his jaw. He can take you—he can—he can—he will!

Dottore practically almost faints once you’re all the way to his throat, he rolls his eyes, he can’t say anything or think at this point. His groaning is vibrating on your skin, if he tries to speak, he’ll die.

You drag your finger down his throat, you’re bulging, the soft skin barely doing anything to hide your curve.

“Such a perfect sleeve, my love.”

He can’t hear you anymore.

2. Always Be Ready! An onahole must always be ready for its owner’s use. Make sure you’re always lubed up and stretched out!

Dottore shudders as the vibrator shakes inside his walls, he wants to buckle over, it’s been so long since he’s taken it out. He wants to, but he can’t. What if you were to pull him away right now? He can’t be caught unprepared and dry! He has to please you after all.

His wetness damps his pants and he hastily tries to cover it with his laboratory gown. Each step ruins him, sending the vibrator even deeper. He breathes out his moans, it’s embarrassing. Climaxing due to walking like this in public? Dottore shivers as he thinks.

He needs a release, please. He begs silently, in whimpers, hoping that you were able to somehow magically hear them.

He has to assist himself on a wall, walking and finding somewhere he won’t be seen. The Doctor ends up in an alley, collapsing on his knees as he finishes, his legs shaking against one another. The vibrator ruthlessly pounds into him even after that, making him remember that he can’t turn it off. He trembles as he stands up, he can’t stay here.

Dottore licks his lips and smiles.

3. Be Quiet! As an onahole, you have no right to argue with your owner. Whether they fill you up or thrust ruthlessly, that is up to them!

Dottore’s body is limping as you keep pushing. He’s exhausted, how many hours…? The aphrodisiac has made it hard to tell.

His lab is ruined, secretions everywhere due to the different positions he has been in. Right now, he’s flipped over, unable to see your face, not even for comfort. He swallows down a cry, anybody could walk in right now. It’s been hours of gasping and panting, just so he avoids specific lewd noises that may come out of his mouth.

“W-When will we finish?” He asks.

“Be patient.”

Another vial is forced into his mouth. The immediate effects are already showing. His skin burns, touch him, please.

“Oh god…” He yearns.

He agreed to this, he tells himself. Still, he’s barely able to do anything except lay down on the laboratory table, on top of his very important studies, cumming all over them.

“S-Stomach’s full…I can’t—”

4. Stay Still! Where are you going? You aren’t done until your owner says so, silly! An onahole lets their holes be used in any way they want.

Dottore flushes in embarrassment. The bathroom stall had such a limited space, and yet he still grinds down on you. He silently cries, begging you to be done.

You don’t even bother to close the door. His reputation would be at risk here! He’s warm. When you called him here, he did not expect for such a thing to happen, and yet, here he is, bouncing up and down, liquids audibly mixing and painting his walls.

The toilet is clean and he may as well replace that instead with how much you’ve excreted into him. He does a far better job than that.

This is not for his pleasure, he allows his body to be used by you like this. Yet, he still wallows in it, as if it was him using you instead.

Dottore yelps once his body is pushed down by his waist. He chants out your name, pleading for no more due to how tired he is.

He hopes no one hears that.

Unfortunately for him, the sound of a toilet flushing follows.

5. Keep Practicing! In order to achieve perfection, you must have lots and lots of experience first. Once you’re confident in your skills, that’s when you can truly call yourself the perfect onahole.

Dottore’s insides have been carved out just for your shape. His body knows just what to do to please you.

Starting with his mouth, which can now open wide. Not gagging anymore as it’s filled to the brim. He uses his throat to his advantage, learning how he can effectively control it by studying the folds that move whenever he speaks. He still cries in pain, but he promises to do better next time! He’ll get there!

Then his thighs, you’ve used them so much to the point it feels as if nerves of pleasure have started to sprout there. His body arching just from a simple pinch of his skin. He can’t get enough of it.

Finally, his hole. Unclenching and clenching at the right rhythm, now knowing how to keep everything you give him inside, not letting a single drop spill. He can take you whole now, his guts having the pleasure to remember you well.

Such a perfect cocksleeve.

No matter how many times you’ve used him, it never gets old. Like every single time is perfect, a repeating cycle of pure pleasure for each of you.

Shit, you’re addicted.

#ugh dottore content again?? #dom reader #sub genshin impact #dom!reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #plattered writings #genshin impact x reader #sub dottore #sub!dottore

[littlenightma]

Hello. I hope this request is not strange. Can you write a Yandere Jeeper Creepers headcanon?

Yandere!Jeepers Creepers Headcanons (NSFW)

• Your scent was intoxicating and it called to him like a siren’s song. He drops his latest kill to the ground. He had to find the source of the delicious smell or he was going to go insane. As he searches, he is bombarded with an assemblage of differentiating scents, but none of them are yours. Where are you, sneaky human? He flaps his wings harder until he is nothing but an unrecognizable blur in the sky.

• And there you are, pinned beneath him, screaming and squirming. Talons dig into your skin. Muscles ripple beneath your hands as you futilely try to pry away. He trails his nose everywhere, sniffing and scanning, searching for something. You think, this is it. This thing is going to rip me to shreds. He finally comes to a stop between your legs. Ah, there it is. To your horror he buries his face there and inhales deeply and rises with a toothy grin. He is going to enjoy you.

• Unfortunately for you, Creepers mate for life, so unless something terrible happens and you die, you’re stuck with him forever. Mating lets him to bypass the 23 year hibernation cycle, too, so yeah, until you die, you belong to the Creeper.

• There’s no use in running. He can track you from miles away and will find you every time. Not to mention he will be very displeased and will rip whoever helps you apart. All those times he allowed you to leave the den for a few hours are long gone.

• Creeper doesn’t talk much — and it depends on if he has vocal cords on him at the time — but every now and again he calls you different pet names from little human, pretty pet, or a simple mate/pup because he senses how you like it. His main form of communication is through body language or vocalization. When he growls you know you’re in trouble or when he tenses and his ears perk, it means there is someone or something nearby and you are expected to hide until it’s safe to come out.

• You do most of the talking because of this. Whenever he brings home bodies to “work on”, he listens to you ramble about different things: the weather, politics, or the new tv show you’ve been watching. He doesn’t understand a lot of it like why humans feel the need to buy their food when there was a plenty of animals to be hunted or why there were some who refused to eat meat altogether, but it doesn’t matter to him as long as he gets to hear your voice.

• Very territorial. Does not like when males of any species get close to you. Human, feline, canine, it doesn’t matter, however humans can get you pregnant and if that were to happen, he’d have no choice but to kill the offspring. No mate of his was going to bear any children that didn’t belong to him.

• Will scent and mark you to let others know you are already claimed. If anyone wants to fight for the right to have you, they can certainly try, but you know what’s going to happen, right? It’s not going to end well for them.

• You know who is in charge here, don’t you? You humans deemed yourselves the apex predators, top of the food chain, but it’s certainly not him rolled onto his back and displaying his belly in a show of submission. Such a good little pet you are.

• You’re unprepared for when he knots you the first time. Your initial reaction is to move away, however the knot is connecting you to him and will not budge, causing pain. You have no choice but to lay there and allow it to lodge itself further inside you. It’s intense, the feeling of his knot invading you, stretching you more than his monstrous cock did. You can’t believe you’re being fucked like an animal in the literal sense and how it’s even remotely possible for your human body to be adjusting so well. Wasn’t your body supposed to instinctively push out anything foreign? So why was your body greedily sucking him in and why was it starting to feel so good? Oh…

• When you’re on your period, it sends him into a state of frenzy and he will not leave you alone. The combination of your blood mixed with your pheromones are begging him to breed you. While it is impossible for him to impregnate humans, you’re still going to be put on your hands and knees, ass up and ready so he can fuck you all night long.

• And when I say all night long — I mean it. There are no breaks, no time outs, no breathers for you to take. It’s just him pounding into you relentlessly until his knot forms then it’s rinse and repeat. It’s messy, it’s sticky, and the more you cry out, the harder he goes. If you reach behind and grab his hips, pulling him close because you’re needing more is exactly how he wants you; a pleading, blood-soaked, cock drunken mess. You will never have to worry about having cramps again because he will fuck them right out of you.

• Loves to play fight. One because he wants you to learn how to properly pounce and pin prey to the ground. The more you learn to give into your own primal instincts that humans have all but lost long ago and learn to protect yourself when he isn’t around, the less he has to worry. Two, because of the social aspect of it. He likes spending time with his human and enjoys when you try your best to get the upper hand. Sometimes he will let you win, but there’s no changing the dynamics here. He will always play the dominate role.

• Takes you on impromptu flying trips. At first you were too scared to open your eyes to even look at anything and he has to jostle you until you do. It’s scary to know you’re that high in the air, but the fear eventually gives way and you begin to enjoy the wind blowing in your face.

• On those rare occasions when the Creeper isn’t out and prowling for himself, he rests you on top of his chest and cocoons you within his wings, locking them tight. He hums an old tune while scratching your back with his claws and eventually you are lulled to sleep, dreaming of a winged creature who has turned your life upside down.

• But maybe not for the worst.

#jeepers creepers x reader #jeepers creepers #jonathan breck #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #slasher community #yandere #jeepers creepers (2003) #slasher headcanons

[urhoneycombwitch]

plan b

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foreword: thank you to this anon, this was just the right amount of sitcom Spider-man pointing meme-ery that I needed. wrote this with husky!neighbor!Eddie since I thiiiink I’ve established that version of him is modern so hopefully this aligns with my made-up canon. lol.

wc: 1.9k

cw: weight mention (in the context of finding meds, no numbers used), embarrassment on R’s end of kink discussion, frenemies vibes between R and Eddie (they get under each other’s skin but in a hot way <3), Eddie is soft-domming in public, no actual smut but still +18 mdni

DISCLAIMER: Plan B can really fuck your shit up and shouldn’t necessarily be used when introducing new kinks. Please do your research and consult w/ a medical professional before using. Putting the fiction in fic with this one.

_____

Christ, there are too many options.

Your vision is swimming in the Family Planning aisle, fluorescent overheads of the CVS taking up residence in your left temple.

You press your fingertips against the spot, massaging gently as you pull different brands of boxes from the shelf to inspect the instructions.

This one says take within twenty-four hours, that might be- oh, shit, there’s a weight cap. Dammit. And this one’s… twice the price? For fucking why?

Frustrated, you shove the expensive thing back in place. The words on the blue label next in line catches your eye- Pre-Seed Fertility Lubricant- and you snap your hand away, as if scorched. Nope. Opposite of what you need. Christ. Pre-Seed?!

It’s almost giggle-worthy. You take out your phone, glancing up and down the aisle; the store is empty this late at night, just an older woman behind the front registers who had greeted you earlier with bored corporate formality, eyes fixed on her magazine.

Picture of Pre-Seed, taken. Check that one off the list. The only person who you’d want to share a laugh over text about this with is the one person who does not need to know why you’re in the goddamn Family Planning aisle at ten PM. On a Thursday.

At least, not yet. You lock your phone, pocketing it before zeroing in on the purple and green-themed Plan B that boasts One Tablet, One Step.

Although it’s pricier than some of the other morning-after pills, it’s the only one that you feel fully confident about buying. You give the box a little toss, feeling the next-to-nothing weight of it in your palm. Fifty bucks for a tiny pill, one that you may not even end up using- but you’ll be goddamned if you’re caught unprepared.

“Can I help you find anything?”

Your blood flashes cold, then hot, as you realize who the voice belongs to- attention focused elsewhere, you didn’t hear Eddie sidling up the aisle until now.

He’s leaning into his arm on the nearest shelf, grinning wolfishly at his own joke, chocolate eyes lit up at having found you here. He looks obscene- biceps and chest bulging at the stretched fabric of his t-shirt, hair unspooling dark curls from a low bun, black ink tattoos rippling over his bare forearms and peeking out from beneath his collar.

Honestly, you don’t know why he wasn’t stopped at the door by the woman on night shift. He’s bordering public indecency with those fitted Levi’s alone.

Fortunately the shock of hearing Eddie’s low voice is not enough to send the Plan B in your hand flying- too late to reshelve it without him seeing, you cling to it tighter, plastic creaking under your grip as you pray to every god ever that he doesn’t notice.

“Oh! Hey. Hi. Haha, very funny.” Well, that was smooth, but at least you said something comprehensible. “What’re you doing here?”

Eddie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss, using his free arm to reach for a pack of condoms near your head- “Late night shopping. Stocking up for the weekend. Can’t seem to keep these around, seeing as I’m being fucked out of house and home.”

”Well… apartment,” you correct, heart leaping at the smile lines that jump around Eddie’s eyes. This is good, maybe you can just keep him talking and find a second to shove the Plan B into a random spot or perhaps launch it into the sun-

Nope, too late. Mid-crinkle, Eddie’s eyes drop to the package in your hand, and you watch his face drop as he processes multiple trains of thought at once.

“Oh, shit. Is that… did we…?”

There’s a pinch between his dark brows, likely running through the last few weeks of your hookups (which have all been protected) and trying to do the mental math; you shake your head, trying to stammer through the flush of embarrassment that’s overtaking your system.

“No, it’s not- not from us. Not from you. I mean…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably from one sneaker to the other as words hit a jam in your throat.

Eddie’s in a full frown now, pushing off the shelf, standing to his full height, confusion and hurt seeping into his expression, voice quiet and pitched deep- “Is it from someone else?”

“Oh my god.” This was a nightmare, right? You’d like to wake up now. “No, no, not from anyone else. It’s-”

A sharp exhale, a shake of your head, and the words loosen all at once- “I was gonna get it for us, for me, for this weekend, if you wanted to give me a reason to use it.”

Eddie goes as still as you’ve ever seen him before, fingers stopped in their usual constant tapping, blinking at the box in your hands.

His face smooths.

Then he smiles.

Your stomach flips.

Eddie slides the condoms back into the wrong spot, not bothering to look as he leans in close enough for you to smell the spice of his cologne as he says in a sex-dipped timbre: “Well if you wanted me to fill you up with my cum, why didn��t you just say so?”

A horrified, awkward squawk escapes before you can bite it back; your head whips down the aisle to make sure no one else was within earshot of his dirty mouth as you blindly shove the Plan B away, deep into a shelf. “Oh my god. Jesus christ.”

”Eddie is just fine,” he responds mildly, the cool demeanor to your rapidly heating one as his grin simmers wicked between dimpled cheeks.

“Forget it,” you start, shaking your head and making to brush past, embarrassment flooding in hot, “Just forget-”

Eddie catches you by the elbow, effectively locking you in place with a single move, but he’s not looking at you; with his free hand, he snaps up the slightly crumpled box and scans the words.

“Y’think one will be enough?”

The flood subsides, gives you pause enough to stutter out, “W-what?”

Eddie’s fingers flex on your arm. He turns the box over in his big hand, rings glinting. “We’d better get two. Just in case.”

Your skin feels the impression of his palm even after he lets go, like a Polaroid in rapid reverse as he grabs a second box, warmth fading fast from your skin. “I don’t think- I mean, that’s not how they work, I should probably find a more permanent sol-”

“Just for the weekend.” His eyes are back on you now, self-satisfied smirk giving way to something darker, more intense. “Yeah?”

A shiver casts goosebumps down the length of your body. He’s goddamn toying with you, in the middle of a fucking CVS. Despite your flare of irritation, you nod, voice nearly a croak as you echo, “Yeah.”

The grin lights up his face again. “Good girl.”

Eddie doesn’t give you time to react to this (verbally, anyways- your cunt is most certainly responding to the praise despite your best efforts to remain unaffected), using one large hand to hold both boxes and another to press at the small of your back, leading you down the aisle.

Truthfully, you’re grateful for the help (regardless of his dominance-based tendencies that don’t usually get you this easy); based on the ringing in your ears, you’re doubtful of your own ability to navigate the maze of aisles.

Eddie walks you both to the front register, and you watch as if outside of your own body while the cashier scans the barcodes and Eddie swipes his card.

He pockets the receipt, slides a finger through the handles of the plastic bag, and holds it out between your bodies. Right in front of the goddamn cashier.

”For you.”

This brings you back to yourself, a bit, mortification giving way to annoyance (a much more useful emotion in this scenario), and you snatch it to your chest. It’s your turn to grab Eddie’s elbow, half-dragging him towards the exit.

“Come again soon,” the cashier calls, still in monotone.

So close. You’re less than a yard away from the sliding glass doors that would have swallowed Eddie’s reply- but as it stands, he gets in one last cheerful wave, an award-winning, dimple-charmed smile to match his bright response.

“She will!”

Damn him. You give a final tug and you’re both out in the parking lot, glass doors closing automatically with a whoosh behind you, cool night air kissing at your cheeks.

”Seriously?” You’re mature enough to recognize that your anger is misplaced, adrenaline-fueled, but that doesn’t stop you from whirling on Eddie, giving his shoulder a sharp shove that (unfortunately, tantalizingly) doesn’t move him an inch. “I can never return to this fucking store. Thanks for that.”

Eddie really doesn’t help his case, grin turned shit-eating as he rustles through his various pockets for his pack of cigarettes- “Careful, sweetheart- you know how hot and bothered I get when you’re mad.”

”Unbelievable.” You turn on a swift heel, slipping the bag loops up your arm to dig for your keys. “You just got me blacklisted from our local drugstore and you don’t even care.”

There’s the snick of a lighter behind you, while your car a few spaces down chirrups and blinks in response to the furious press of your fob’s unlock button.

Eddie chuckles, sardonic and unsympathetic. “Too bad this is the only CVS in the whole world. I think you’ll live, princess.”

Ignoring this, you stomp towards your car, petulant, bag rustling; the door is half-open when Eddie calls, “So, are you coming over tonight, or what?”

“Obviously!”

The door slams with more force than you intend, sound ricocheting across the lot.

From the respite of your tinted windows, you watch as a streetlamp-haloed Eddie takes a drag from a cigarette, smoke drifting thick around a hazy visage of the hottest man alive. (Maybe you’re a touch biased. But your opinion is based on personal accounts, so fuck the naysayers.)

He tips his head back to look at the stars, pale column of throat illuminated- with a flush of realization, you scoff. He’s putting on a show for you.

Two can play, you think, driving your seatbelt into place with a click. But first I’m gonna have to make a stop at home. Namely for new undies.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #husky!neighbor!Eddie #husky!neighbor!eddie x reader #eddie x reader