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luvrxbunny · 8 months

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gullible

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Breeding

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, a lot of body descriptions, reader is on the curvier side, some grinding/dry humping, male masturbation (barely), ovulation, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 4.7k

A/N: lets say spider society is funded by the most rish spider-people and thats what the dinner was for. also this is long asf- i blacked out im so sorry

It’s a formality. This whole dinner party. It’s something Miguel gets invited to every year and every year he dreads going to it, having to play posh in order to get some extra funding from the higher-ups. Although, he doesn’t mind too much this year because he’s bringing you.

He’s fidgeting, and complaining about his collar when you come out of the bathroom, you’re asking him if you look okay and he knows his answer before he looks at you. He knows you look good, he tells you so before turning to you and only reassures you upon gazing at the outfit.

This dress is new, and you’re worried your tummy might be too big for it so you’ve thrown a coat over to hide it. Miguel knows what the coat is really for but doesn't mention it, not wanting to risk making you so uncomfortable you change out of everything. He compliments your new perfume instead, winning a confused smile from you. You’re fidgeting with the coat on the ride to the venue, saying that it’s itchy and you’re getting too warm. He suggests you take it off but you gently refuse and stop complaining.

He gets dragged away from you the moment he walks through the door. He hates leaving you alone at these things, he knows you don’t socialize well and he knows the men here want a taste of you. He’s anxious to get back to you for the entire hour these deep pockets talk his ear off. He hasn’t been listening, he’s thinking about you. He’s almost overwhelmed at the love he has for you, he’s never felt this way before. He’s missing you even though you guys are in the same place, even though he’s only been away from you for an hour. He can’t get out of there fast enough, shoving the doors of the conference room open and searching for you immediately.

When his eyes find you, they find that you’ve already taken your jacket off and you’re socializing with an entire group of people. They’re conversing with you comfortably. You bring a smile to his face as you laugh at someone’s joke. His eyes rake over your body, finally taking in your true outfit.

It has him stiffening in his pants. You’re wearing a dark red pencil dress, the same color as his suit. It hugs your curves perfectly, doing justice to your plush thighs, your ass and showcasing the curve of your back. His favorite part though, is the way it hugs your front. Your boobs look great, sure, but it’s emphasizing the little pooch that sits at the bottom of your stomach.

You hate it, saying it makes you look fat, that you wish you could get rid of it… but in Miguel’s eyes? It’s just proof you’re the perfect woman to mother his children. He came to this conclusion before he even knew about your tummy. He had seen your wide hips, your care toward others, how good you are with children, and decided he wanted you.

Once he got you to date him, to fall in love with him, he found out about your little belly fat. You’d been sucking it in as much as you could whenever you were around him, sometimes wearing higher pants than necessary in hopes of the jeans pushing your stomach down. It broke his heart to hear you so insecure but there was also a little flame igniting in his stomach.

The flame never left. He didn’t tell you about it, but every time he noticed your belly pushing against your tank top, or a tight shirt, whenever he felt your soft tummy on his hard stomach- through the t-shirt you insist on wearing while he fucked you- the fire raged brighter. He added it to the list of reasons you’d be an amazing child-bearer. He’s obsessed with the protective fat over your womb.

He watches you cover your stomach with your arm as you laugh, not even realizing you’re trying to hide his favorite part of you. He’s walking over to you before he plans out what he’ll say. He just stands beside you, inhaling your sweet perfume, and waiting for you to feel his presence, it doesn't take long. You turn to him with a surprised smile and give him an excited hug. “Miguel!”

His heart expands at your excitement upon his arrival, he wraps an arm around your waist and presses you against him. Your voice is muffled as you speak to him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” He’s not listening though.

To any outsider, it looked like Miguel just really missed you, when in reality, he was making sure you could feel what you do to him. You let out a pretty sigh into his ear once you feel his bulge press into you. Your eyes are on his as you pull away, searching them for a reason as to why he’s hard but all he’s too busy taking in every piece of you.

You’re both lost in your own world, you don’t realize the people you were talking to have moved on from your conversation, talking with some other people now and leaving you and Miguel to your moment.

His hands are resting on your hips before one slides behind you, pressing his open palm against the small of your back before the other presses against your lower stomach, right over your uterus. Miguel can feel your stomach tense under his hand as you suck in, tightening your muscles but Miguel just tuts and tilts his head at you, disappointed. “Don’t do that, cariño. I love her.” Your gaze is on the floor as you listen to him, he sounds drunk, his voice is distant and hazy.

His head is cloudy with fantasies. He can see your stomach, how it would grow and swell as you create his child inside you. He thinks about how beautiful you would look with your womb stuffed full of him. He swears she’s calling for him- your womb- begging him to fill her up, paint your walls white until his seed takes, maybe a little more after that just to be safe.

You can see his thoughts racing, you can tell he’s working himself up, you just don’t understand what is doing this to him. His hand on your stomach is making you a bit self-conscious, but your muscles have been too tight for too long, and they give out. Your soft tummy relaxes and presses into his hand, pulling a relieved sigh from Miguel. His breathing picks up and his eyebrows furrow before he looks up from your stomach, looking into your eyes instead. “You know I love this, right?”

He looks back down at your belly as he readjusts his palm, opening his hand wider to cover more of your pooch. You whine and shift uncomfortably, the way his hand is resting over your womb is hot, it’s turning you on but you’re barely aware of that fact because anxiety is overrunning everything. You’re waiting for Miguel to slip up, for you to see a crack in his lies. You appreciate the attempt at making you feel better about your body but you don’t- you can’t believe him.

Until you look up into his eyes.

They’re drowning in need, his pupils entirely blown out, covering most of the red in his eyes. He’s gazing at you as he slowly pulls you in and presses his plump lips against yours with a moan. You pull away quickly and look around, a few people looking your way at Miguel’s louder-than-safe moan. You look back up at him to warn him, tell him to keep it down but the words die on your tongue. His eyes are hazy and confused, still looking at your lips like he can’t figure out why you pulled away. You smile at him incredulously and pull his hand away from your back but he whimpers when you try and take his hand off your womb.

“Miguel, we’re public, baby.” Your voice is soft yet frantic, and his eyes are still begging you. “People are staring…” That gets a reaction, his face twitches and his eyes clear and harden a bit. He looks around the room with a snarl and you have to pull his gaze back to you.

“Hey! What’s gotten into you?” The question hurts him a bit as he thinks it over, he really is trying to pinpoint why this is affecting him so much. All he can focus on is you though, your scent enveloping him like a cloud. It smells like everything good, like flowers and honey, but also clean like soap and linen. It’s suffocating him, stopping all thought.

“You smell so good, amor. What is that? I don’t recordar buying este para ti.” His voice is muffled as he buries his face in the top of your head, looking for the source of your scent. You’ve had enough, he’s doing all of this in the middle of the party, and you’re starting to feel a bit embarrassed. You’re pushing him back, slowly walking him to the edges of the party. You feel people staring until you finally hit a wall, pushing a grunt from Miguel. “What is up with you?” Your tone is gentle but you’re getting concerned, you’ve never seen him like this.

His eyes are shut tightly as his brows furrow and he lets out a pathetic whimper. “I’m sorry. I- I don’t know.” His hand leaves your stomach to bury in his hair and you instantly miss its warmth. You take a step closer to him, waiting for him to say more. “Can we leave? I think we’ve been here long enough, yeah?” He’s already pulling your hand to the exit.

He’s silent in the car and on the drive home, constantly running his hand through his hair, and bouncing the leg that isn't on a pedal. You’re taking in his frantic state and notice that through all this, he’s still hard. “Miguel…” He gasps softly and turns to you for a moment. “What’s wrong?

“I don’t-” His eyes dart to your form. “ Your dress for one.” You glance down and wish you hadn’t, you see your stomach split into rolls, folding the fabric of your dress, accentuating the it’s softness. Your arms cross over it, trying to hide and Miguel groans.

“Don’t do that, I told you.” His voice sounds painful and strained. You look back at him to see a distressed look on his face and his hand palming his throbbing cock through his suit pants. “I fucking love her.” His breathing gets heavy, causing him to inhale more of your painfully sweet perfume. “What the fuck is that smell, baby?”

You can hear him take a big inhale of the air in the car and a shiver runs up his spine. “I’m…” You struggle to round up enough thoughts to answer him, too distracted by the way he crushes his dick against his thigh and the little moans that accompany his movements. “I’m not wearing perfume, Miguel.”

That's when it hits him. Why he’s so desperate for you, why your scent is clouding his every thought and taking over his mind… You’re ovulating.

A broken groan rips from his throat at the realization, he speeds the rest of the way home. When you guys finally arrive he parks in the driveway and unlocks the doors, but doesn’t move. “I need you to get out, bonita.”

You feel arousal settle in your stomach as you press your legs together. Miguel’s head falls back, and his hair falls with his head, revealing his red-tipped ears. His hips are still gently thrusting into his hand, the other is squeezing the wheel so hard you thought it might crack. “I- I need a moment, baby. I’ll explain everything, just go inside and-” He lets out a breathless curse and his hips stutter against his palm. “And go change and just- just wait for me, okay? I’ll be there in a moment, go.” You’re in a trance as he speaks but the force in his command shakes you out of it.

You leave the car silently and make your way to his place. You change out of your clothes in a daze, putting on a tank top and one of his sweatpants as you try to process what just happened. You grab a blanket and wait for Miguel on the couch.

It’s only a few minutes before you hear his footsteps approaching the door. You stand in front of the doorway, oddly nervous as you watch the knob turn. His eyes meet yours the moment the door opens, his eyes stay on yours as he ducks through the frame, and takes his shoes off. They only tear from yours to take in your new outfit, your lower belly is the first place his eyes land. He gets that weak look in his eye you’ve been seeing all night and his breathing picks up.

Miguel notices the way your stomach sucks in for a moment before relaxing, letting your body be as she is and it making him feral. He needs you so bad, he wants to just take you right here but he promised you an explanation. His eyes flicker up to you and he takes a shaky deep breath and tries to keep his voice steady. “Have a seat, hermosa.”

He looks nervous, he keeps wiping his hands on his suit pants as you walk over to sit on the couch, he seats himself at the other end, across from you. You’re turned to him, legs crossed and laying in his lap. He turns to face you more and accidentally places your legs over his bulge, you can feel his thighs tense as he folds in half, letting out a choked moan that he tries to cover as a cough. You let him think he got away with it, he leaves your legs over his bulge, giving him enough stimulation to think straight.

You’re looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain and he decides to just rip the band-aid off. “You’re-” Arousal stabs in his stomach at the sentence he has to utter. He bites into his lip and tries to regulate his breathing. “You’re o- ovulating.” Your legs shift in his lap as your expression falls, embarrassed. “And I can smell it.”

Your legs pull out of his lap quickly and you bring your knees to your chest. “What?!” You sit up and tuck your legs under you, sitting on your calves. “You can smell it? I’m- God that’s so- I’m so sorry.”

His mind is getting hazy again without your contact. “No. Cariño, not that. It’s not like that.” He sighs at your confusion, he wishes you understood how desperate he was, maybe then you wouldn’t ask him to talk so much, maybe you’d just let him fuck you already. “It’s more like pheromones.”

His hand slides across the couch cushion, wraps around your ankle and slowly drags you toward him. “It’s a change in your personal scent. Your body is trying to trick mine into breeding you, and guess what?” He’s pulled you straight and is crawling up your body, slowly lowering himself against you so his bulge is pressing against your pussy, right over your clit.

He’s so hard he’s able to split your lips, rubbing the cloth of his sweatpants against your naked pussy and you gasp at the feeling. Your hands slide up from his biceps to pull his head in, anxiously awaiting the rest of his sentence. He smirks at the eager look on your face and leans in, just inches from your lips, and whispers against them. “My body is so gullible for you.” You whimper.

You can feel your entire being heating up as he kisses you so intensely, like he’s trying to devour you. He’s groaning against your lips and licking into your mouth as he wrestles his jacket off. Your hands shoot to his belt and struggle to get it off, whining into the kiss when his belt gets caught on the loops. He smiles into you and his hands come to rest over yours. “Tranquila, bebe. I’m the desperate one, remember?”

You shake your head his words and let him take his pants off while you wiggle out of his sweats. He moans at your bare pussy and his arms give out for a moment, almost dropping his weight on you before catching himself. “N-no panties?” His fingers are on you, rubbing your clit and spreading your slick all over you, coating his fingers in it. He’s being downright messy.

“Miggy- Miguel, I need it so bad- need you so bad. I love you so much. You’re so-” Your mind is already gone as you grind up into his fingers, overwhelmed by the added pleasure of his desperation. He’s groaning into your ear as he humps himself against your thigh in time with his fingers.

“I don’t know. I need-” You cut him off with a moan and he smiles as you apologize in between whimpers. “I think I’d need to cum in you, cariño. I need- My brain can only focus on-” He groans as you writhe against him, pushing your thigh into his crotch. His head lowers to rest against yours as his fingers speed up inside you. He can feel the way you’re coating them, soaking every crevice with your sweetness. He can feel the way they’re sliding inside you, the way your walls are squeezing him, it’s too much. “I can only think about cumming in you, bebe.”

Truthfully, his thoughts were more focused on what would come afterward, watching you swell with his child but you guys haven’t even had a conversation about kids yet.

“No.” You whine at him, he feels sadness shoot through his stomach but he tries to mask it. “Just fuck me, please?” You’re looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, your hands around his neck pulling his face impossibly closer as your lips try and lock with his. He nods at you gently, he wants to give you anything you could possibly want.

“Okay, amor.” He kisses you quickly before taking his hands off of you and starts unzipping his pants, pulling himself out of his boxers while you wait. You watch him for a bit as he gets undressed before a thought pushes into your head.

What if I took my top off this time?

You think it over for a second, you want to be yourself with him, completely and he’s explained his love for your tummy over and over again.

What could be the worst that happens?

Images of Miguel’s face twitching in disgust flash through your head. Unrealistic scenarios of Miguel pulling away, starting to reject your advances and your kisses plague your brain.

He wouldn’t do that.

You take a deep breath and bite the bullet, pulling your tank top over your head quickly and Miguel freezes, causing an abundance of discomfort on your end. You thought this was something he’d want, something he’d like, now that you’ve exposed yourself though, he’s silent.

You try to stand strong, but your hands are twitching at your sides to cover your stomach. You pray to whatever god there may be that you somehow gain the ability to read his mind, to see his thoughts, to force him to say something… anything.

His cock pulsing. He’s never seen you completely shirtless, despite being together for over a year. He never wanted to push you, too scared that he’d push you away. He’s seen you with no top but only with a towel over your stomach, or pants pulled over your stomach as you change. But now? Her full glory was on display, there’s a little curve underneath, separating your tummy from your pussy and he’s in love.

His eyes are zeroed in on your naked stomach and your hands come up to cover it, legs pulling inward as you fold into yourself. He can’t have that. “Don’t”

His voice is sharp and dark, a strong command but you don’t listen, covering your stomach fully. “It was a bad idea. I’m so uncomfortable, Mig. Can-” You let out a heartbreaking sigh. “Can you just pass me my top?” You threw it down just out of reach and your hands are occupied covering your stomach. Embarrassment is coursing through every vein.

How are we gonna move on from this? I fucking killed the shit out of the mood. Fuck. God, I hate this.

“No.” He’s moving back toward you, climbing up your body again, ignoring the obvious confusion you’re facing. You curl in even more which just upsets him. He grabs your leg and pulls, forcing you out of your ball before pinning it under his own. “Uh-” You let out a noise of surprise but Miguel pays it no mind as he reaches for your arms. He takes both of your wrists in his hand and pins them above your head, holding them there as he admires your tummy.

Your heart is racing but you don’t struggle. Miguel is looking at you like to most amazing piece of art and you’d do anything- anything- for him to keep going. You feel yourself leaking between your legs as he just stares. His breathing is slow and shaky and his brows keep furrowing, like he’s having an internal battle with himself. He takes another breath and exhales through his mouth, letting his breath fan over your face before releasing your wrists and leg.

He’s waiting for you to pull your hands back down, cover one of your most beautiful features… but you don’t.

Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. “Can you please, please, fuck me now?” His face twitches before he smiles, taking a deep breath as he pulls away. He kisses your chest as he slowly rises, his hand already on his cock, pumping himself gently as he aligns himself with your entrance. You’re gripping the cushions with all your strength as he works himself in.

He’s worried. You feel insane around him, the softest thing he’s ever felt, extra wet and open for him to breed you. His mind keeps wandering back to cumming inside you, even though you said no. He’s walking the line of some dangerous thoughts.

I am stronger than her…

He shakes the thought out of his head and focuses on you. The way you’re moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know, your hips are growing frantic as the grind up against him. “Miggy-“

“Amor.” He smiles at the moan that rips from your chest as you bury yourself in his neck. His hips speed up at the sounds of your moans right next to his ear, your breath tickling the shell of it.

“‘M gonna- “ Miguel cuts you off with a growl and his brows furrow. He doubles down on his thrusts, bringing his hands to the small of your back, gripping you hard and fucking you into his cock.

It’s going to take a serious amount of focus to keep his orgasm at bay until you’re done. “Go- Fuck. No, just wait, baby.” You let out a confused noise at his command. He’s never asked you to hold it before.

“Fuck! Mi- I don’t know how!” Your sentence turns into a sob as he watches your body tense up, pulling all your muscles tight and gripping the roots of his hair. “Haah- Miguel. Baby, I ca- an’t. Please let-“

A moan stops your sentence as Miguel presses onto your womb, forcing his cock against your walls, stretching you even more. You feel so full you don’t know what’s happening. Your eyes are wide as you stare at his hand, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. They’re frantic, desperate and wild when they meet yours.

His panting aggressively, intermittently pausing so he can try and regulate his breathing. You’re staring into his eyes, shocked at his reaction and a smirk pushes its way into your face before you moan at him again. He pulls his hand away from your womb like it burned him and pulls out, gripping the base of his cock so hard it must hurt.

You were so close, teetering on the edge, just hearing Miguel utter your name could’ve tipped you over… but he pulled out instead. “Miguel!!! Why? I- I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

Your desperate pleads are worsening his situation. He ignores your words and starts rubbing your clit, his fingers moving over the little bud lightning fast. “I’m not punishing you, bebé bonita”

You whine at the love name and grip his arm, trying to pull him closer to you. “No puedo correrme dentro de ti and I’m… I’m too close right now, cariño.”

You’re trying to push his hand away now, shaking your head and whining. “S’okay”

Your yanking at his arm, trying to get him back over you. “Cum inside, Miggy.”

His eyes widen and he doesn’t move. He honestly thinks he’s hearing things at this point, fantasizing without realizing but you’re look at him all shy and expectant. So you actually said something… “W-“ He takes a deep breath. “What?”

You whine at him and avert your eyes as your legs slowly spread for him. “You- You wanted to, right? I want it…” You whine at the thought. “I need it, Miggy.”

His vision blurs as he reaches out for you, lining himself up as quickly as he can. He can already feel his balls pulsing, tensing and preparing a load for you, for your pussy, your womb.

It’s worse than the first time he ever had sex with you. Every nerve is alight, he can feel every little detail in your pretty, perfect pussy. On top of that, you’re moaning like he’s never heard before, louder, more high pitched, more desperate than earlier and they’d already shocked him then. He can’t.

“Mm- Not- fuck. I’m not gonna last. Not even a min- shit. Oh my god, cariño. Not even gonna last a minute. Fuck me, niña bonita.” Your almost screaming his name at his words, his languid pace and the way he’s literally shaking for you. “Gonna- shi-it.” His words sound like broken sobs as his tip gently abuses your cervix.

You’ve pulsing around him, trying everything you can to wait for him so you can milk him while he pumps you full. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck. I’m gonna cum in- in you, baby. Voy a follarte un bebé, amor. Te dejaré embarazada, te mantendré llena de mí en todo momento. Mierda. Te verás tan hermosa, manteniendo a nuestro bebé protegido en tu grueso útero. Oh, joder"

(“I'm going to fuck a baby into you, love. I will get you pregnant, I'll keep you full of me at all times. Shit. You will look so beautiful, keeping our baby protected in your thick womb. Oh fuck.”)

Your eyes roll back and the coil in your stomach snaps as Miguel rambles, hips thrusting into yours gently, his gaze on the back of his skull. You’re fucking yourself on him as best you can in this position. It’s awkward and over-exerting but completely worth it when you hear a whine of your name and Miguel’s cock starts throbbing inside you.

Twitching once, twice, before hardening even more and pouring a torrent of cum into your waiting pussy. He’s the loudest you’ve ever heard. Moaning out your name on repeat, thanking you for letting him cum in you with a lot of other Spanish sentences in between.

His hand presses to your womb as he winds down but his cock twitches out another load as he pushes down, fucking into you slowly again. “Te amo tanto, mi querida. No puedo imaginar la vida sin ti. Una vida en la que no tendrás mis hijos, en la que no estemos casados…” His entire body shudders as he finally stops pouring into you.

(“I love you so much, my dear. I can’t imagine life without you. A life where you don’t bear my children, in which we aren’t married…”)

He leans down and kisses you slowly, eyes hooded but still focused on you. Your eyes are teary and trying to shut, exhausted from the entire night. Miguel keeps pressing kisses all over you as you drift off.

“Un mundo sin ti es uno en el que no podría vivir, amor.”

(“A world without you is one I couldn't live in, love.”)

Thank you so mcuh for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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harryspet · 5 months

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bambi eyes (the holiday special) r.cameron

[Warnings]soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, NONCON, dd/lg, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, heavy on the somnophilia, ittle editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 1.6k

In which it's your first Christmas Eve with your Daddy, you don't know what you want but Rafe surely does.

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You could think of three things that you wanted for Christmas. Colored pencils, glitter lipgloss, and a small stuffed animal for Bunny. You don’t need any more clothes. You’d been with Rafe for over a month, and there were still clothes in your wardrobe that you had not worn yet. Your room was heaven, with the softest sheets and pillows, and Rafe bought you even more playthings each week.

Your last gift was a diamond bracelet Rafe gave you because of how well you behaved in front of his friend, Barry. He didn’t punish you for sneaking around downstairs. All you had to do was bring him a slice of cake and sit down on Rafe’s lap while the two of them talked about “getting rid of their problem.”

There were several trees around the house, but the biggest one was in the living room, by the fireplace, and it was at least two times your height. There were at least twenty presents underneath the tree already, wrapped neatly in paper that was decorated with pink snowflakes. In cozy reindeer pajamas, ones Rafe had also purchased, you sat near the tree checking over your letter to Santa. Although you had a feeling Rafe might secretly be Santa, you let a small part of you believe it was real magic.

Lana helped you write the letter, and now you were adding a few drawings and stickers to really jazz it up. It took you longer to write it than Rafe preferred, it was already Christmas Eve, but if Santa could somehow bring you exactly what you wanted tomorrow, you’d really believe in him.

“You almost finished, baby?”

You looked up to see Rafe entering the living room, most likely finished with his work day, “I couldn’t think of anything else to ask for,” You said quietly, remembering how much Rafe encouraged you to ask for absolutely anything. The truth was you never had anything so you didn’t know what to ask for, “I don’t think I need anything else. But I wrote a nice letter for Santa and I thanked him for everything he does. And I made it sparkly.”

Rafe made himself comfortable on the couch and you brought over your letter, “C’mere,” He said, pulling your legs over his lap before wrapping one arm around you, “This is beautiful work, kid. Santa is going to love it.”

You looked up at him, a smile on his face as he read the words over, “What did you ask Santa for, Daddy?”

“Well, since I already have you,” He squeezed you, making your heart leap in your chest, “I asked Santa to make sure that you have the best Christmas. That you’ll love every gift you get and we’ll have a nice, Christmas dinner.”

You smiled back at him, “I wish I could buy you something, Daddy.”

“No need,” Rafe leaned in to kiss the side of your forehead, “I like giving to you, and I have plenty of money for the both of us. Besides, you’re way too little.”

When Rafe looked at you, he really looked at you. He held your face in his hands, not tight enough to bruise, so you wouldn’t look away. You were still learning not to feel shy under his gaze. You started to understand that you were just like the gifts sitting under the tree. You were Rafe’s gift to himself. He showed his possession of you through his gaze.

“Your bows are a nice touch,” He complimented, taking notice of the red ribbons tied around your pigtails. Every morning you spent time doing your hair, and you were slowly learning how to do your makeup. When he noticed your efforts, you felt you were fulfilling your purpose, “And I already knew you’d look cute in your pajamas.”

Rafe liked it when you presented yourself a certain way. He liked things to be dainty and soft. He preferred small jewelry over statement pieces. Pastel colors over bright ones. And you should never have on too much makeup. Lipgloss was better than lipstick and concealer over foundation. He wanted you muted but pretty, just like your personality.

“Thank you,” You batted your lashes.

Rafe and you continued your cozy evening in the living room. You’d made it through the first two Home Alone movies and were now in the middle of watching The Polar Express. Rafe excused himself to the kitchen for a moment, taking the chance to prepare some hot cocoa for the two of you.

When Rafe returned to the couch, you were sound asleep, your arms wrapped around Bunny. Quietly, he set down the cups of cocoa on the coffee table, and the thought of waking you up crossed his mind. After all, your drink would get cold, but you seemed like you were resting deeply.

Gently, Rafe laid down next to you. You didn’t wake; you moaned softly as you turned your head, nuzzling your face into Rafe’s neck. Rafe stayed with you like this, having found a new love in sleeping next to you. He never really enjoyed next to sleeping next to anyone, until you, and he began to designate certain nights of the week where you’d stay with him in his bed.

Watching you sleep made him think back to when he first brought you home. You still looked as innocent as ever, but there was something else Rafe liked about watching you sleep – he loved seeing you vulnerable. Obviously, you were in a constant state of being vulnerable to Rafe’s every whim and want, but this was different.

He tested just how deeply you were sleeping, slowly taking the doll from your grasp When you stirred only slightly, Rafe continued, first touching you above your pajamas. Large, ringed fingers felt over your chest. He massaged them, kneading them, and you reacted by pressing yourself closer to him.

Lips parted, and holding in heavy breathing, Rafe continued his exploration. He was growing harder in his briefs, imagining the look on your face when you fully opened your eyes. He licked one of his fingers and reached into your pajama bottoms and then into your panties. This was exactly why he never wanted you to wear panties to bed; they only got in his way.

He stroked fingers up and down, feeling between your folds. Feeling the moisture there, he wondered what exactly you’d been dreaming about, “Rafe,” He heard you whisper, although when he looked down at you, your eyes were still closed. Although the stimulation was waking you, Rafe knew you were too tired to fully realize what he was doing.

Rafe shushed you, still playing between your legs, “Is bed … time?” You mumbled as Rafe pulled his hands from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his lips.

“Yes, sweet girl,” Rafe whispered, “Keep relaxing, Daddy’s got you.”

Rafe pulled his body from yours, moving off the couch before he gently started to pull down your reindeer bottoms. Carefully, he removed them from around your ankles before slowly lowering himself down on top of you, “Cold … please,” You mumbled, “Daddyyy.”

“I’ve got you,” Rafe said in response to your whining; as he settled on top of you, you wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in like your dolly or a pillow. Meanwhile, Rafe was trying as carefully as he could to free himself from his briefs. He didn’t have to touch himself at all, he was already aching for you.

He didn’t resist anymore, pushing your underwear to the side and then pushing inside of you, his sweet girl. You were tighter, somehow, causing Rafe’s eyes to roll in pleasure, “Rafe,” He heard you, knowing you in a daze. Currently, he felt quite dazed himself. He knew with his size that he’d wake you but he didn’t account for the fact that your body might try to resist, to push him out. It just motivated him to push deeper, “Rafe. Rafe.”

Your voice was sharper now, scared almost, “You’re okay,” He cooed, “You’re …so so good, sweet girl.”

You loosened your grasp on him, and Rafe took the opportunity to see your face. You were adorable in those red bows, he noticed them first, but then he saw your scrunched-up features, a cute wince on your face. It would feel good soon, he knew that, but he certainly enjoyed seeing you resist.

“What a fussy little girl, huh?” Rafe thrusted slowly, “Acting like you don’t like Daddy’s cock.”

With each thrust, you were trying to gain your composure, but Rafe was relentless.

One hand, beside your head, he pressed into the couch to hold himself up, and the other, he reached down to play with your clit, “Cum one time for me,” Rafe commanded, although it was the last thing you wanted. He would give it to you anyway, wanting to see it in your face when your own body betrayed you, “One time, and you can go back to sleep.”

Rafe’s thrust was slow but consistently deep. He switched back and forth from focusing on your pleasure and his. It was difficult for him, he could finish so easily with you, but he held out; Rafe knew when you were getting closer just by the look on your face. Your head tilted back as your orgasm spread through you, and Rafe was quickly behind you.

Rafe caught his breath, still inside of you, and moved his chest closer to yours, “You okay? You did good, Bambi.”

You nodded calmly, “Did I …Did I miss the whole movie?”

Rafe stared, bewildered for a moment, “Uh … no. We can just rewind it, baby,” He grinned, pecking your lips, “And I can just heat up the hot chocolate again.”

Your eyes widened, “Hot chocolate like in the movie?”

“Just like the movie, my love,” Rafe’s forehead pressed to yours.

He was grateful for the fact that he could give you the perfect first Christmas tomorrow. He was even more grateful for how perfect you were.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!

#darkfic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction

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moonlightsolo · 1 year

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can you write neteyam and human reader you’re exploring in the forest and ends up losing you and when he finds you after searching for a long time you’re actually having so much fun gathering things and running around and it’s all cute and protective! ^.^

i looove nete n human reader it’s my weakness … i hope u like this!!!

“nete! c’mon!” you call out to your boyfriend as you run amongst the trees. you giggle as you leap over a fallen log in one fluid motion, somehow landing on your feet over the other side.

“hey!” your boyfriends accented voice cackles from behind you, but your feet refuse to relent. obviously, if he really wanted to catch up to you, he would. his long legs give him the advantage. your head dodges branches, and vines, and your legs hop over rocks as you sprint through the foliage.

something bright catches your eyes next to your swift feet, stopping you in your tracks. you’re finally able to take a deep breath as you slowly backtrack. right at the base of a tree trunk, three bright pink flowers sit buried in the dirt, rustling slightly in the wind.

a fwäkìwll; a mantis orchid.

the huffing and puffing boy catches up to you, his usual unruly braids are secured behind his head. with two that must’ve escaped that frame his face perfectly, “you’re nuts, you know that?” he laughs breathlessly.

“look!” you bend down to examine the flora, admiring the softness of the petals, “oh my, it’s so beautiful.”

neteyam can’t help but giggle at how you gawk over a simple little plant. something he’ll never understand, but he will always appreciate your fascination.

your hands reach into the small bag slung across your body to pull out a notebook, flipping to an empty page to sketch a rough draft of the flowers.

his large four-fingered hand rests on the top of your head to softly rustle your hair, pressing his fingers into your skin to slightly massage your scalp. your head angles up to look at him, smiling wide at your boy before stuffing your head back into your book.

your pencil scratches satisfyingly against the lined paper; instinctively bringing your lip between your teeth as you focus.

“i’ll be right back, okay? stay here, my love.” neteyam pats your head as you nod, but truly his words went in one ear and out the other. it was something about him leaving, but your attention is taken up by the flower.

once you have a few key points labeled on your little picture, you finally close the book. your eyes dart around to seek out the blue skin of your na’vi boyfriend, but something else catches your eye.

behind a wide tree trunk in the distance, you see the edge of a plant. the loreyu; also known as the helicoradian!! you excitedly spring to your feet, and creep toward the giant plant. ducking under thick vines and swatting at buzzing bugs.

on the way there, you stumble upon a small stream that has glittering rocks and gems under the water. obviously, you can’t help but snag a few and store them in your bag— but you can’t let yourself get too off track, so you continue forward.

the salmon-colored spiraled plant is almost twenty feet high, which is ginormous compared to your tiny human body. as you grow closer, you realize the one loreyu is surrounded by clusters of smaller and even bigger ones.

“oh my god.” you breathe out in shock as you carefully weave between the helicoradia; already having the knowledge that if they’re merely brushed against, they’ll retract into the ground.

you mindfully sink to your knees, folding your legs underneath your body as you lean back on your heels. you unlatch the notebook from being pressed against your chest, flipping through the used pages to find the one you’re looking for.

you’ve already observed this plant elsewhere in the forest, so theres a few notes and drawings written down already. you decide to perfect the previous drawing you have in the middle of your page, even sketching a close-up of the edge of the leaf.

you tuck your pencil into the crease of the book before closing it and sliding it back into the safety of your bag. you glance up into the sky, but you can barely make out the blue color from the plants that tower over you.

it’s so serene and peaceful; you’re hidden amongst these intimidating plants that are five times the size of you. it seems like nothing could ever hurt you, as if you’re shielded from the unforgiving environment of pandora.

you carefully lay down against the grassy soil. once your back hits the warm ground, you suck in a deep breath— mentally wishing you could breathe their air to be able to smell the fresh dirt.

although the oxygen mask is your key to survive, it’s also so suffocating. one of the biggest problems it gives you is that you’re unable to kiss neteyam whenever you want. only able to get inside the privacy of your room in the scientists shack, but even he needs his own mask.

wait, neteyam. where is neteyam?!

you abruptly sit up in your spot, suddenly feeling as if you’re claustrophobic from the menancing plants that surround you in every which way. oh god, you’re gonna throw up. your feet scramble to stand as you panic, causing your shoulder to brush against the tendrils of the plant.

with a pop, it sucks itself into the ground. the movement creates a chain reaction that triggers the entire field to recoil into the dirt. you watch as each plant disappears, waiting until the area clears entirely. everything around you looks the same, and absolutely nothing looks familiar.

something firm grasps your upper body from behind, strongly spinning you around to face them.

your frozen expression is met with wide, worried eyes that belong to neteyam, “what are you doing?!? where were you?” he lectures as arms tug you tightly into his chest. he briefly embraces you before pulling away just as fast to stare back down at you.

“i told you to stay where you were! why did you walk away?” his voice cracks from his raw emotion, his honey-colored eyes dart frantically over your face.

“i’m—i’m sorry, i- i didn’t realize i walked so far away… i was just taking notes and… drawing.” your voice stumbles over itself.

his shoulders drop slightly from your anxious voice, his eyes watch how your quickened breath slightly fogs the glass of your mask.

coldness washes over his body when he realizes just how harsh he sounds and the points of his ears droop from his realization, “you scared me. i thought i lost you.” his sharp voice has softened and his tight grip loosens on your shoulders.

you take a step forward to stand in between his feet to wrap yourself around his body, smooshing yourself into the warm skin just above his navel. “i’m sorry i won’t do it again.” you whimper out, your apology slightly muffled.

his hand soothingly cradles the back of your head as he holds you against him, “don’t be sorry.” he tsks, “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have left you.”

your head angles up to gaze at him, giving him a soft downturned smile, “well, i should’ve listened to what you were saying.”

“s’okay. you’re with me now, that’s all that matters.” his fingers toy with the elastic band of your oxygen mask, itching to rip it off and kiss you; but he knows that he can’t.

“oh! i uh- i found some crystals! i think you can use them for your clothing and your hair beads, ‘n stuff.. do you wanna see?” your hand wiggles your bag persuadingly with an excited grin.

neteyam stares down at you in awe and nods his head, “‘course i wanna see, ma yawntu. show me.” he nudges his nose in the air for you to continue.

your hands rummage through the weaved sack on your hip, pushing past your notebook to the little bag at the bottom filled with the rocks. you pluck it out to dump the contents into your palm, admiring how the multi-colored crystals sparkle under the sunlight.

“those are perfect. i must make you some jewelry out of them.” his eyes brighten from the idea, “what would you like? a necklace or somethin’ else?” one of his fingertips roll the rocks in your palm to examine them, careful not to push them off into the grass.

“really? you‘re gonna make me something?” your voice sounds surprised, which is shocking to him. of course, he is going to make you something; you’re his mate, his muntxate.

when he first courted you, he gifted you a handmade bracelet — which you’re currently still wearing and have no plans to take it off, and the weaved bag that never leaves your side.

“yes, for you, silly. who else would i make jewelry for?” neteyam rolls his eyes at you playfully, a sneaky smirk crawling it’s way onto his lips.

your eyes flit over his face, still surprised, even after all this time, that you’ve bagged yourself a tall, gorgeous, blue alien. something comes over your body, a sudden rush of adrenaline as you suck in a deep breath of your oxygen to hold your breath.

confusion twists over neteyams features as your hand grips the lower part of your mask to push it over the top of your head, “what are you-?” his question is cut off by your hands reaching up to grip the edge of his waist adornment to tug him down to you.

he happily obliges with a pearly grin, ducking his head down to your height to urgently pull you into a kiss. you smile when his lips move against yours and his hand presses into the small of your back to lean your body slightly backwards.

even though kissing him is a rare occasion in itself, it still feels like the first time— every. single. time.

his tail curls around his back to wrap around your upper thigh to hold your body in place, as if his hands aren’t strong enough to do so by themselves.

neteyam reluctantly pulls back, staring down to admire your beauty without something separating him from you. his hand sits heavy on your neck with his fingers curled up under your jaw. his thumb swipes down the bridge of your nose, and over your plump lips before pulling the mask back over your face.

your human features are so soft, and delicate; he can’t help but touch you without your mask whenever he gets the chance.

once the mask is firmly fitted over your face you suck in, a definitely needed, sharp breath. your chest expands as your lungs inhale the air, giving neteyam a small sad smile. “i love you.” you whisper once you’re finally able to talk.

neteyam’s face lights up from those three words, his lanky arms wrap around your tiny frame to lift you into the air to his height. it’s nothing new to express your love to each other, but whenever he hears those words it feels surreal to him.

the sudden change in height makes you squeal, and wrap your arms around his neck for support, “i love you.” he replies and presses his forehead to the glass, which you instantly lean forward into.

“let’s head back to camp. we can get some food, and just hide in your room and do nothing for the rest of the day?” he offers as he lowers you back down to the ground.

when your feet hit the softness of the grass, your hand reaches out to grab his. neteyam’s fingers practically engulf yours, so you decide to hold onto him the best you can.

“sounds like the best idea you’ve had all day.” your voice hums with a content grin.

neteyam gives you a little nod, before looking around to see which way he should go. he begins to walk to lead you back to his ikran, mindful to go slow since his legs are much longer than yours.

but not without his tail wrapping protectively around your leg. this time, he’ll make sure you won’t stray away from his side, not even a little bit...

stop this is so cute i’m in love w this 😭

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munsonsmixtapes · 1 month

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Better Late Than Never

Pairing: Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: a bathroom counter make out with your husband, Eddie

word count: 1,509

cw: none!

The bathroom counter was cluttered with various makeup products and brushes that you had been using to get ready for the night. You were always so caught up in perfecting your looks that you barely even noticed when you had made such a mess until it was time to clean up. Maybe it was unfair to the person who you shared the bathroom with, but he hardly minded.

Eddie, your husband, was sitting on the counter next to your sink, watching you like he always insisted on doing any time you got ready. He claimed to find the whole process fascinating, loving the techniques you used to apply everything. He was always there to give you feedback and hype you up no matter how crazy or weird of a look you were doing. He was your number one fan no matter what.

You grabbed your eyeliner pencil that had been sitting on the counter next to Eddie and gave him a smile as you did so. The smile was returned, love clear in his eyes. He reached for your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it before letting you have it back.

You applied the eyeliner to your upper and lower lash lines then pulled down your bottom lid to line your waterline. Eddie always found that part particularly fascinating; how it always seemed to make the whole thing come together. Especially when it all smudged after a full day of wearing it.

Maybe he liked it so much because he wished he could wear it. He wanted to, and had even wanted to ask you to help him apply it, but he could never get the guts. He had recited his vows to you in front of a whole church full of people, but couldn’t ask for a little liner? Why did it scare him so much?

You turned to him and he hadn’t realized that he had been so close until he noticed that your noses were almost touching. You could see him eyeing the pencil in your hand and knew exactly what he was wanting. You weren’t sure why he wouldn’t just come out and say it. You wouldn't have judged him. In fact, you thought that men wearing eyeliner was hot.

“Do you want some, honey?” You asked, and he just nodded.

“Please?” He asked and you moved to stand in between his legs. He grabbed hold of your waist and you took the eyeliner and slowly lifted it up to his left eye, giving him a chance to back out if he wanted to.

“Close your eyes,” You instructed and he obeyed, closing his eyes. You slowly and gently lined the top lid, rubbing it with your finger to give it the smoky look. You thought that would look the best with his eye shape and color. You then lined the bottom lid, doing the exact same thing before moving to the other eye, trying your best to make them look somewhat even.

“Waterline too?” You asked and he just furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn't up to date on the makeup terminology so he honestly had no idea what you were talking about. “Here,” you pointed to the spot on yourself and he nodded enthusiastically.

You lowered his bottom eyelid and moved as quickly as possible since it was his first time and you knew it could feel uncomfortable. You then lined his other eye then pulled back to examine your work, nodding to yourself in approval. You grabbed your mirror from your makeup bag and handed it to Eddie so he could see for himself before moving out of the way so he could get a better look.

He let out a gasp at his reflection, moving the mirror every which way to see it at different angles, his mouth agape. He couldn’t believe how good he looked, how hot. He knew that you were good at doing makeup, but you had truly outdone yourself. You made him look like the rockstars he had always looked up to, the ones he aspired to be just like. Now that he had a little taste, he was going to have to ask you to do it for him everyday.

“Darling,” he gasped again. “I look hot.” He set the mirror aside so he could see you again and beckoned you forward with his pointer finger. You stepped between his legs once again and he rested his hands on your waist, pulling you closer before wrapping his arms around you.

“I agree,” you nodded. “But I always think you’re hot.”

“Babe, do you have a crush on me?” He teased and you just rolled your eyes.

“Eddie,” you chuckled. “We’re literally married.”

“Just answer the question, y/n.” He pulled you closer to him, his lips right by your ear.

“Yes, Eds, I have a crush on you.” Sometimes he was so ridiculous, but you couldn’t help but love him. He made it so easy.

“Don’t say that too loud, my wife might hear you,” he whispered, making goosebumps rise on your arms. “Now give me some sugar.”

You pressed your lips to his in a quick peck and tried to move away, but his arms only wrapped around you tighter. You let out a laugh at how childish he was acting. He didn’t play when it came to your kisses. If he had it his way, he would have kissed you forever.

“Eddie,” you laughed. “We have to finish getting ready.”

“One kiss and I’ll let you go.” You knew there was no getting out of it, but you didn’t mind. Not at all.

“Needy,” you replied, leaning into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands rubbed along your back as his face inched towards yours.

“Very.” His lips slotted between yours in a gentle kiss which was typical to expect when he had asked. Those kinds of kisses were always filled with so much love, as if he was trying to show you exactly how he felt with his lips.

His arms tightened around you as he licked into your mouth. You let out a laugh as you pulled away, Eddie trying to chase your lips as you did so.

“Eddie,” you chuckled. “We’re going to be late.” You both were supposed to be at Robin’s in twenty minutes for her birthday party and now you were definitely going to be late. She shouldn’t have been surprised, though. This was very like you and Eddie since you had become a couple all those years ago.

You had become the kind of couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But only behind closed doors. When in public, the most you would do was hold hands. Over time, your entire friend group had become aware of your inability to be able to keep your hands to yourselves and made fun of you for it. It had become a joke between all of them and you had let them laugh because it had been true, after all.

“So?” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “Everyone already assumes we’re going to be late anyway. Why not take advantage?” Another kiss, this one lingering.

“Eddie, we can’t fuck right now,” you rolled your eyes.

“No one said anything about fucking, darling. I just want some kisses. Can you do that for your hubby?”

“If you never refer to yourself as my hubby ever again.”

“Consider it a deal, sugar.” He pulled you in for another kiss, taking no time to swipe his tongue along your bottom lip. You opened your mouth, letting him inside. His tongue roamed around, roughly scraping against yours. His legs wrapped around your waist, causing the two of you to be chest to chest.

Eddie leaned into you, his hands moving down your back only to go up your shirt and underneath your bra. He lifted your shirt over your head, setting it next to him before removing his own. His lips pressed to your neck then moved down to your shoulder, moving the strap of your bra to give him more access.

“So pretty,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “So so pretty.”

“You’re the pretty one,” you replied and his lips moved back up to yours.

“Let’s agree that we’re both pretty, okay?” You supposed you could agree to that. Although, you liked having the little argument about who was prettier. He was always going to win that competition.

“Sounds good,” you replied, moving your hands to his hair, pressing your lips to his once more. Your fingers pressed into his scalp as you licked into his mouth and he let out a moan as you grabbed a fistful of his hair.

“So good, baby,” he whined, his legs wrapping tighter around your waist. You backed away and he removed his legs from you. He then leapt off the counter and you took him by the hand to lead him to your shared bedroom. You were so going to be late to the party.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut

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bwambiee · 8 months

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𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

this lil’ drabble is inspired by the lovely @zeijias ♡ her drabble of isagi being a perv while pretending to be a goody two-shoes just scratched my brain so right i had to add on to the agenda! pls check out her works they’ve got me blushin’ ૮꒰/ฅ//ฅ//꒱ა

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings ꒱ྀིა smut ⸝ drabble ⸝ fem! reader ⸝ isagi being a perv ⸝ mean isagi agenda ⸝ aged up chara’s (21+) ⸝ dirty talk ⸝ mentions of face-sitting

campus crush yoichi is just the sweetest boy in your psychology class, who you just found out is an exercise science major and he’s got the prettiest sapphire eyes you’ve ever seen. classmates turned best friends came easily to you two even if sometimes you both could see that the line is slightly blurred from how impeccably close you two are. after spending every waking moment together in freshman and sophomore year, it’s like muscle memory for you to run to him at even the smallest ounce of juicy gossip, tugging his sleeve as you look up into his eyes and nuzzle into his arm as you explain the drama of a recent friend, or how you complain over your classes whilst wearing his hoodie. but who could blame you? he was sweet and understanding, and felt like home. but it was clear that you two had something. and the both of you didn’t have the guts to act on it yet.

of course you only see what’s on the outside, goody two-shoes isagi who sometimes walks in late for psych, who always always opens the door for you, who covers your drink at parties when you need to use the bathroom and even bends down so his ear is at level with your face so he can hear you over the booming music, who always buys you your favorite drink or snack before your morning classes start because you stayed up a little later than normal and he knows you haven’t had breakfast yet. he was just so pure and flawless you could never guess that he was secretly eyeing you like the last piece of candy at a sweets shop. especially when you wear that miniskirt that can most definitely show what color panties you're wearing and the curve of your ass if you weren’t careful.

isagi freaking loses it when you stroll up to him all casually, your eyes looking up at him while you bat your eyelashes and flash him that sweet smile, your soft hands tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie as you lead him towards the library so you two can study for an upcoming test. yeah . . . ‘study’. what he’s really studying is how good your legs look when you cross them together, how good they’d look resting over his shoulders when he pounds into your pussy without mercy, growling into your ear about how fucking tight you are, or how good your shoulders and neck would look covered in marks he’d purposely leave on you so that the boy in your statistics class would get a hint that you weren’t meant to be shared with. nothing drives him wild as his thought run amok, dreaming of your plush thighs surrounding his head as he imagines you sitting on his face, pretty pussy dripping honey onto his tongue as you let out soft mewls and whines of his name when he sucks your clit just right, gripping onto your ass cheeks so he can move you back and forth on his tongue as you hold onto his headboard for dear life.

he inwardly groans as he imagines sinking into your pussy, sticking his whole cock into you in one hard thrust as he robs you of every single slither of oxygen when you gasp and do nothing but hold onto him tightly. he’d destroy you, the frustration of playing cat and mouse with you when really he just wants to play house and stop fucking around. the need for his true feelings comes out slightly when he sees you bite the top of your pencil, slightly groaning as you lean in close to him, not-so-subtly showing off how good your tits looked in the top and mention how the barista that had made your latte was cute and he grips his mechanical pencil tightly, digging it into his notebook when he stares at your lips, pursed in concentration, smiling about that stupid fucking barista.

damn tease.

his mind wanders again, thinking about how you’d claw his back as he imagines your tight, velvety walls gripping his cock as he makes you see stars.

“such a tight little pussy YN. All for me, yeah?” he’d pant against your ear. “you think you can keep up this innocent act around me, mhm? you don’t think i can see the little game you’re playing? you can mention another guy’s name in your mouth, but it’s my cock you come all over, and it’s my name you fuckin’ scream.” he growls, gripping onto your hips so he can bully that sweet spot in you and you would let out the most prettiest cry.

“n-no more—nnh!” you would moan. “it’s too much y-yoichi!” you’d whisper pleadingly, watery eyes hazy as your mind would be too fucked out to even form a coherent sentence. he’d do nothing but grin at you and just leans forward, folding you in half.

“t-too much y-yoichi!” he’d mock you with an insufferable smirk, one hand sneaking up to grip your tits and the other on your tummy so he can feel his dick move in and out of you lazily, pussy throbbing around him as his fingers slowly tease you clit in slow, deliberate movements, grunting since he can feel you squeezing him so fucking good.

“don’t be a quitter sweetheart.”

and fire would spread across your oversensitive body, writhing and spasming as isagi robs you of an orgasm that’s sure to send you over the moon.

well of course, you’d feel that euphoric feeling if you’d stop playing cat and mouse.

#ཐིཋྀ◞𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼 #𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒆𝒆𝒌 ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi smut #isagi smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #isagi yoichi imagines #it’s been a while since i wrote ! i think i’m a lil’ rusty oops ૮꒰ つᯅ⊂ ꒱ა

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charlottemorningstarsdarling · 1 month

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𝔊𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱, 𝔪𝔶 𝔡𝔬𝔢

pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader

summary: Alastor comforts his little doe to sleep

warning: none! just some fluff and ooc Alastor:)

No one knew of Alastor’s little nightly ritual. After everyone went to sleep, he made his way down to the bar for a cold glass of whiskey. To clear his head and have some silence to himself.

Except, he wasn’t alone tonight…

Y/N was somewhat new at the Hazbin Hotel. She arrived in hell confused, disoriented and alone. She was wandering around the Vee tower, when she spotted the commercial on one of the televisions. A shelter she could go to. The Hazbin family took her in quickly and she enjoyed being there, she wasn’t cold, hungry, nor alone anymore. She was a big help to Charlie too, always helping her with the redemption exercises.

Alastor took notice of her the second he saw her. A deer like him, except that he was a big scary buck and she was a lovely doe. He never made a move on her, afraid that he would mess even a tiny bit with her sensitive little heart. But, he would always do little gestures for her. Helping her out here and there, and always stocking up on those little heart shaped chocolates she liked.

But back to tonight.

While he was on his way to the bar, he heard a little sniff from the parlor, he felt his heart tighten when he saw the doe curled up on the couch. Her little fluffy ears were hanging low and her pink nose was twitching sadly.

She didn’t even see the Radio Demon coming down, and her eyes widened when she heard his static voice.

“Is everything alright, my doe?” When she looked up, he was towering over her curled up position, and looking down at her with that lovey-dovey gaze, a rare sight to see.

“I’m okay, no biggie.” She tried to mush a smile onto her face, but he saw right through her.

He took a seat next to her and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it to her, which she took gratefully.

“Don’t be shy. Feel free to tell me whatever is hurting your little heart.” When he said this, the dam broke. Her tears started flowing down her cheeks, and her lips were morphed into an adorable pout. “Oh, little doe.” He gathered her up in his arms and put her on his lap, she put her head on his chest. He felt her body shaking as she weeped in his arms.

His clawed hands gently caressed the top of her head, stroking her soft ears that were connected to her fluffy hair.

He spoke again, when her shaking lessened.

“Do tell, my dear, what got you so upset?” He said while he positioned her head, so she was looking up at him.

“I just had a long day. I was out, because Charlie needed more colored pencils and some guy on the street started talking to me.” Her lips wobbled again at the memory.

“What did he say?” He let her rest on his chest, and this way, she couldn’t see the way his face was turning into a more demonic expression. Who dared to h̴̩͛͒͆͑̐̄͂̀͝͝u̵͓͚̖͍͎͒̾̽́̈́̚̚͘ŗ̵̟͚̝͇͗̒̋́́̈́̀́t̵̨̤̺̟̳̝̔́̕͠ͅ ̷͈̩̔̾̐̾͐̂̑̕͜͝͠ḧ̷̨̖̪̲́͂̂̏́̈́̆͝ị̴̧̠̺͉̫͇̞̙̽̈ͅs̴̡̖͓̠͋̓̏̈́̒̕͘ ̶̳̳̘̘͚̭̳̟̪͙̏l̷̬̻̯͉̐̈́̃͘i̵̛̥̞̙̠̪̮̻t̴̡͎̮̬͍̦͕͑̐͗̈́̾̐͝ţ̷͎̥̪̻͕̠͓͉͈̇̈́̈͗̚̚l̴͉̎̿̐̇̆́͒́̆̃e̴͍̣̼̓ ̶̢̗͍̟͈̹̉̉̇͜d̶͙͉̻̗͚̬̦͎̖̖̂̀͊͝ơ̶̛̲̩̻͕̤̙̜̹͓̂͠ͅe̵͙̳̙̻̫̱̅͑͝?

“Disgusting things…”

He leaned back, so she was laying on his lap. With a snap of his fingers, a soft blanket was on her. “Well, you deserve to be treated nicely and gently.” He looked down into her doe eyes. “Don’t listen to those awful people, but if they dare to say another nasty word to you, just tell me. And I’ll make sure they won’t speak another word in their pathetic afterlife ever again.”

She smiled softly and snuggled between his shoulder blade and neck. She spoke with a sweet whisper. “Thank you, Alastor, truly.”

“No need, as I said, you deserve all the lovely things.” Her soft hair was tickling his neck, and he found himself nuzzling more into it.

“Sleep now, I’ll make sure to guard your dreams.” But he realized that her face was already relaxed and her breaths were even. He planted a kiss on her head, and her ears flattened from the softness of his lips.

“Good night, my doe.”

Yes, tomorrow he will make sure to find that bitch that disrespected her and hunt him down.

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calmcoldevening · 11 months

Text

Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

#slashers x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair

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jobean12-blog · 2 months

Text

Color Me Yours

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Mob!Bucky)

Word Count: 984

Summary: Whether or not he's busy with his work he always has time for you and whatever you want.

Author's Note: I had written a story about coloring with Joel and I just love the idea of doing something so simple with our fave guys and then I thought Mob!Bucky would be so fun to color with. This is just a snapshot of a soft and fun domestic moment where our usual no bullshit boss is really and truly himself with his most favorite human ever- his wife. I also mention a scene in the movie Ghost from 1990 and I referenced this scene. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: It's fun and fluffy and sweet and silly and ends with a bit of spice bc I can't help myself, established relationship, coloring bc yay!

“There you are doll face.”

You walk into his office with a smile, your hands kept neatly hidden behind your back.

“What are you hiding?” he asks as he leans back in his leather chair, legs spread wide and smirk pulling at his lips.

“A book.”

You stop just in front of his large mahogany desk. You’re wearing nothing but a tank top and panties and your skin warms as his eyes sweep over you appreciatively.

“What are you reading now?”

“Not that kind of book.”

He raises a questioning brow.

“It’s a coloring book.”

With an easy push he swivels his chair to the side and pats his thigh invitingly.

“Come ‘ere doll. Let me see.”

You come around the desk and perch yourself on the thick muscle, watching his reaction as you reveal your coloring book and colored pencils.

He takes it from your hands and starts to flip through it, smiling the whole time.

“These are beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you.”

He carefully places your things on his desk and wraps you in his arms. You rest your head along his shoulder and slip your fingers into the open buttons of his collared shirt.

“If you’re not too busy now, will you color with me?”

Your head tilts up to meet his eyes and you find him gazing down at you softly.

“I’m never too busy for you doll face. You know that.”

He sits up and pulls the chair toward the desk, caging you in with his arms around your waist and his chest pressed to your back.

“The only rule is you have to stay in my lap while we do it.”

He whispers the words against your neck, gently kissing the spot before he pushes the strap of your tank top off your shoulder and continues pressing his lips along your skin.

“One more rule…you can’t distract me until we’ve done some coloring,” you breathe out. “You’re very distracting.”

“Fine. I’ll behave doll…for now.”

You turn your head and chase his lips, sliding your hand into his hair and gently scraping your nails along his scalp.

“Tease,” he growls playfully against your mouth.

With a coy smile you peck his lips one last time then ask, “did you see any particular picture that you want to color?”

“You pick,” he answers, keeping his face nestled in your neck.

“Let’s color this one.”

You point to a page and then start sifting through your colored pencils. He waits for you to pick one then does the same, deciding on a cerulean blue.

“Almost as pretty as your eyes,” you purr.

He kisses your cheek and let’s his nose run along the column of your throat, whispering his thanks.

“This is relaxing,” he murmurs.

“I agree. I was going to try painting next...”

“I’ll build you a space for you to do your art. Any kind you want.”

“Can we get a pottery wheel?”

“Of course,” he answers.

You turn to look at him, smiling brightly when you exclaim, “then we can make something together like Molly and Sam in Ghost!”

With a squeal you go back to coloring, unaware of Bucky’s confused expression.

“Molly and Sam?” he asks.

“YOU HAVEN’T SEEN GHOST?” you nearly shout, turning in his arms again. “We are watching it tonight.”

“Is it a scary movie…about a ghost?”

His question makes you roll your eyes and you poke him with a colored pencil.

“NO Buck. It’s a love story and they totally have sex after he distracts her while she’s making her pottery…”

“What are you implying doll?”

“Oh nothing,” you sing song. “I’m sure you’ll love the movie.”

“I’m sure I will too.”

“You better…it’s so good.”

He lightly nibbles on your neck in response, causing you to squeal again.

“Nibbles laterrrrrrrr,” you half whine half giggle.

He relents but only after more soft kisses to any part of your bare skin he can reach.

As you go to choose a new color you pause to watch him, noting how his movements are precise and he stays within the lines, coloring each part of the picture with consistency.

“You’re really good at this,” you muse. “Have you been secretly coloring without me?”

He chuckles.

“Nah doll face, but you know I love to pay attention to every little detail.”

“Oh, that’s an understatement,” you giggle.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say cheekily.

He nuzzles your neck, knowing his scruffy jaw tickles your skin and it makes you wiggle and squirm in his hold.

“Buckyyyyy,” you gasp.

He finally stops to let you breathe, securing you in his lap again and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

His right hand holds the colored pencil and his left rests on your hip and as time continues to pass in comfortable silence his fingers begin to trace circles on your skin, slow and light.

“Done already?” you purr.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about doll.”

His tone is incredulous even as his hand dips lower and teases between your legs.

You try to stay focused on coloring the picture but his touch is far too distracting and you drop the pencil with a sigh and lean back.

“What about my coloring?” you whisper as your hands slide down and grip his thighs.

He pushes your legs apart and slides his finger over your silky panties.

“This is all your fault,” he murmurs. “You came in here wearing almost nothing…”

“My fault?” you breathe out. “This is why I can never get anything done…you and your hands…distracting!”

“You love it.”

“I do,” you gasp, rocking in his lap. “But you aren’t getting out of coloring…or the movie.”

He takes your earlobe between his teeth with a gentle tug, drawing soft little moans from your parted lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it baby doll. You know I’ll do anything you want.”

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989 @littleseasiren @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #mob!bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #mob!Bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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peaktora · 9 months

Text

𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˚◞♡ ⃗ dad!satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ when gojo comes home, he’s delighted to see his daughter applying makeup to his wife's face.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. you & gojo have a daughter (obviously). established relationship (married). the reader is referred as “mommy” by the kid but other than that there’s no use of fem terms.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊i completelyy overdid it, this was supposed to be under six hundred words but oh well

late at night, with the moon casting a soft glow, gojo wearily steps into his home. all he wanted now was to unwind. his body was sore and he craved food, a hot shower, and then sleep. as fast as possible. which he was sure would be put on hold because of you and his daughter. two people he trusted were still awake — who always stayed up just to see him.

he laughs to himself, remembering the countless times he scolded you and your daughter for sacrificing your sleep. but in truth, he loved the surprises he came home to. whether it was you two baking together, with him joining in, or watching a movie where he'd have to catch up on the first 30 minutes, he cherished those moments spent with you and your daughter. it was a family thing.

he quietly slips off his shoes and places them on the wooden rack, the only sound in the house. "they must be sleep," he reasons. he couldn't help but frown. carefully tiptoeing to the kitchen, he heads straight to the fridge, first thing on the list of unwinding being food.

just as he's about to open the fridge, a symphony of giggles dances down from upstairs.

his brows furrowed, hand hesitating on the fridge handle, and glancing towards the stairway. after about thirty seconds of silence, he's convinced that he must've misheard it. but to his surprise, he hears it again.

a smile spreads across his face, knowing his girls were indeed awake and waiting for him.

his mind races as he weighs the options: dinner or investigate the source of the giggles? though deep down, he knows it's a pointless battle. especially when without a second thought, he finds himself practically skipping upstairs. anticipation intertwines with exhaustion, knowing that his loved ones awaits, ready to embrace him in their hold.

thankfully, the sound was so loud that it led him straight to the room where the laughter was coming from. as he approached his bedroom door, voices began to replace the laughter, growing louder and more distinct.

“hmm…what should we do now?”

“well, you’ve got a lot of options.”

his curiosity piqued, he tiptoed closer, skillfully avoiding the creaky floorboards he knew so well. with a gentle touch, he pushed the door open just enough to create a small crack, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the scene inside.

there, in the softly lit room, his daughter sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by an array of colorful makeup. the girl’s tiny fingers carefully picked up an eyeliner pencil, her brows furrowing in concentration.

"okay, eyeliner is next mommy!" she declared.

you chuckled softly, leaning closer to her. "alright, my little artist, show me what you've got.”

sitting face to face, eyes locked in a shared moment of love and trust, she delicately traced the pencil along your eyelids. her movements were a mix of focus and excitement, her small hands guided by an invisible artistic instinct. as the lines took shape, her face brightened more and more.

"you're doing great, my little artist," you whispered, voice filled with pride.

she just poked her tongue out from the corner of her lips.

even by only looking through the door, gojo’s heart swelled with a mixture of pride and tenderness watching the scene unfold. it was a simple moment, yet it held so much love. and he loved that.

just as he started to close the door, a sudden creak reverberated through the room. damn it. he stands frozen, desperately hoping that neither of you had noticed. but his hopes were dashed when his daughter's voice rang out, "daddy, is that you?"

his nerves tingled, and he hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage before finally responding, "yes, sweetheart, it's me."

he slowly pushes the door open, finally revealing his presence. your eyes lock, and a silent conversation unfolds, filled with unspoken words and understanding. it was as if he wanted to say he should've let you know he was here, but before he could speak, the girl infront of you interrupted.

"daddy, come join us!" she exclaimed.

he quickly took a seat beside you, watching as his daughter moved from you to him with the eyeliner in hand.

gojo playfully shook his head, teasing his kid, "no way, kiddo. eyeliner isn’t my style." though once she pouted, he couldn't resist her charm, and with a smile, he relented, "alright, just this once."

"maybe twice," she added, dragging the pencil gently along his eyelid.

“maybe twice.” in his head, he was more than happy to let her do it as many times as she wanted.

groaning, you stood up. “well, you two have fun."

gojo shut his eyes, "hey, how ‘bout a little photoshoot after this?" he suggests.

you place a kiss on his head, "yeah, no, tough pass." and with that, you retreated into the bathroom.

soon as gojo heard the bathroom light flicker on, he peaked open an eye, a playful grin on his face. "looks like it's just me and you now, kiddo.”

“close your eyes!” she huffed.

he obediently replied, "yes ma'am," as she closed his eyes for him.

it didn't matter to him if his eyeliner was smudged or if he hadn't done his nightly routine as planned. what mattered was him getting to add another midnight memory to his collection of family moments.

for the most part, he didn't really care if you three stayed up late if it meant he could add more. actually, scratch that — and put an emphasis on "the most part" because he is fucking exhausted.

#(っˆ ³(ˊ ᵕ ˋก ) ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ࿐ྂ #i had to physically take a break from writing this bc the amount of fluff is unbearable #wrote this instead of sleeping #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo headcanons #gojo scenarios #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

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cherrychilli · 3 months

Text

18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, established relationship, lingerie, allusions to oral sex(F), PIV sex

a/n: I'm no seamstress by any means but I can do a decent enough job with a needle and thread and I love making my own lingerie from time to time so it got me thinking about dear sweet horny Eddie and what it might be like when you let him in on your little hobby.

You'd first told him about it a few months into your relationship, on a day when a press of his lips to the corner of your mouth had turned into open mouthed kisses, his tongue wrapped around yours. Eddie had pulled you closer to feel more of you then, settling you in his lap, pushing your skirt up to find the black, hand sewn lacy garters circling the thickness of your thighs, made dainty and pretty with ruching and bows.

He doesn't even know what they're called – all he knows is that he likes them, a lot and he tells you so between kisses, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers, pinching the delicate lace with a low whistle. He slips in a corny but sweet line about how it makes your thighs look like they've been giftwrapped just for him and that gets a giggle out of you, telling him you made them yourself.

"You serious?", he looks up at you, amazement shining bright in his deep mahogany eyes even when you try to downplay it, telling him it's not that hard. But your modesty does nothing to stop him from thinking you're the most talented person he's ever met and he reminds you of that mixed in with more praise when you change positions and he's down on his knees, slipping his fingers under each garter while he fits his head between your legs.

"Turning up in a pretty little outfit like this? that's begging to have my tongue on you, baby. You shoulda known that", he tuts against your clothed mound, licking a broad stripe up your panties, tasting the wetness that had gathered there on the black cotton.

He only pulled out the stitching on one garter that day – unintentional of course but unavoidable too given how tightly he had to hold you down in place as you writhed. It didn't trouble you though because it was nothing you couldn't mend with your needle and some thread back at home.

From then on, whenever you feel inspired to tackle a new design he's all sorts of encouraging, driving you and accompanying you to get all the things you need – all of the sewing supplies; fabric, thread, lace, ribbon, elastic and more. He helps you decide on which colors to get and he makes the gesture of paying for it all too, wanting to spoil you. Not to mention it's kind of like he's buying himself a present too, knowing you'll model the undergarments for him when you're done.

The most you let him help with after that is taking your measurements, letting him wrap the measuring tape around your hips and bust while you guide him on how to do it correctly but what that leads to is a lot of wandering touches and a few sneaky pinches on your ass, having to playfully swat his hands away if you hope to get anything done.

Eddie backs down with a little whine but all the faux pouting's just for show. He finds space on your bed while you look up DIY tutorials online at your desk before you get down to sewing, all of your supplies laid out neatly by your side, ready to be used.

While you're busy he spends his time strumming away on his guitar, pencil tucked behind his ear as he brainstorms lyrics for a new song. Both of you liked working on your own projects this way, in the same room because you appreciate having each other's company and presence to surround yourself with while you create.

Though Eddie had promised not to look too much he struggles to uphold that promise as he sneaks peaks at you cutting out patterns for a matching lace bra and panty set. He adores the cute way your brows scrunch together in concentration when you thread your needle and how you sometimes mirror him with your tongue pinched between your lips while you meticulously stitch all the individual cut outs together.

Somewhere between the time it takes you to get the panties finished and the bra started he approaches you, one hand clamped over his eyes so he can't see your progress – he knows how much you want to surprise him with the final result. Held out in the other is a mug of that tea you like, having made a quick trip to your kitchen and back, a bag of potato chips cradled in the crook of his elbow for you too.

You thank him and gladly take the offerings, cheeks growing warm when he plants a quick kiss on the top of your head. "Don't overwork yourself", he coos into your hair, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before he heads back to your bed and picks up his guitar again.

The tune Eddie's playing carries you through the rest of your stitching and close to an hour later you swivel your desk chair around in his direction. "I'm done", you announce with a sunny smile and he grins back at you, fingers abandoning his guitar. "You gonna get changed right now?" he asks hopefully, eyes twinkling.

"Yup", you answer him, popping the 'P' with a little wink. You gather the set in your arms, stepping into the bathroom. "Wait here, I wanna do a reveal", you tell him before closing the door, all giddy with girlish excitement, proud of how the it all came out.

The wait isn't long but every second that passes has Eddie feeling like his head's full of fireworks, finding it impossible to remain still, fingers drumming on his knees, legs hung over the side of your bed, socked feet tapping away on your carpeted floor.

You don't announce yourself once you've changed, unlocking the bathroom door and letting it swing open as you lean against the doorframe, letting your boyfriend take in your newest creation.

You know you've succeeded when his lips part, jaw going slack and his eyes going wide to rake over every inch of you, stunned.

He makes grabby hands at you and its somehow made cuter given his age so you step forward to let him get a closer look, occupying the space between his spread legs, letting him place his warm hands on the bare skin of your waist.

It's always a rare moment when Eddie goes silent, words escaping him as he quietly admires the way the material wraps around your proportions perfectly and the the cheeky cut of your panties as you do a little spin for him, the front a soft lilac satin, the back a matching shade of lace to reveal your ass through the floral embroidery.

The bra is simple – nothing too elaborate like some of the designs you'd scrolled through but it compliments the underwear well. The straps are thin and rest comfortably on your shoulders, the rest sewn in a longline style. It's sheer with the same floral lace as your panties so your nipples show through, your breasts supported well even without padding or underwire for extra softness, all with a tiny, pretty ribbon bow stitched right in the middle to match the one on the front of your panties too.

"You're so fucking beautiful", me utters, pulling you closer to kiss you right above your belly button, making your chest flutter with a thousand beating wings, a hurricane of butterflies taking flight just beneath your skin.

You let him lay you down on the bed and he's far more gentle than he needs to be when he slips your panties to the side, not wanting to stretch or snag the lace and ruin all your hard work. Your belly feels warm like sunlight spilling through your window in the morning because he's so careful with the pretty underwear while he runs a finger through your wet folds, making you feel like something as delicate as porcelain, something to touched with care and worshiped. It makes you hunger for more, pulling him closer by his shoulders.

"Wanna feel you inside", you place your lips on his, hands helping him to unbuckle his belt as he leans over you. You pull not so gently at his clothing, a big contrast to how he's handling you, tossing each article to the side impatiently while you remain in your cute little ensemble. You wouldn't be ridding yourself of your underwear tonight and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Can't believe I've got the prettiest doll in town all to myself", Eddie huffs a breath against the column of your neck at the same moment you suck one in, pressing his cock inside you, so thick and hard it makes the stretch that much better.

"And she's all dressed up just for me"

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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arachine · 2 years

Text

— 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?: 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬

+ 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝: multiple stranger things men

+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature

+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content

+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so…i’m back. It’s been so long since i’ve posted the first dick analysis, and i just couldn’t resist doing one for the stranger things men! this is just a filler post until i finish writing some of my requests and outlining the first few chapters of my eddie munson series. until then, please enjoy this, i had a lot of fun just spewing all of my whore thoughts into this >.<

+ part two here !

+ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: the small font is a stylistic choice. if you are having trouble reading, i suggest you adjust your iphone’s settings!

eddie “the freak” munson

↻ length: the social pariah, eddie munson, is many things. he’s loud, obnoxious, witty, and…a freak. yeah, he roleplays with 15 year old kids, and yeah, he very well may be a super senior–having repeated the 12th grade three times–but those things don’t really make him a freak. no, the thing that makes him a freak is the unnecessarily long, heavy piece of meat that swings between his legs like a pendulum.

coming in at just about 6 inches flaccid, and 7.5 inches fully erect, eddie takes the cake for this lists’ third longest dong.

↻ width: eddie’s a pretty skinny guy, and so, his dick’s probably not much thicker than a febreeze bottle. but it’s okay, because skinny dick, is still good dick.

↻ color: he’s pale but it’s definitely a little tanner than the rest of his body. i’d say it’d progressively get darker the closer it gets to his tip (which is a beautiful mauve-y color that darkens when erect).

extra:

↻ groomed: it’s the 80s, and he’s a metalhead with a wild mane of hair on his head, so naturally, i think he’d rock a little bush. just a little one, but on occasion, he will tackle it with some scissors and trim it down a bit.

↻ curved: oh, god, yes. deliciously curved to the left with a plump, mushroomy head.

↻ veins: duh! two thick veins that begin underside the shaft and split into a fork just beneath the head.

↻ how he uses it: gonna just go ahead and say it, and this may be controversial, but i honestly think eddie would love putting you in a full nelson. now before you scrunch your nose in disagreement, just LISTEN. he’s such a skinny motherfucker but i just know there’s some muscle under those black skinny jeans and tees. i mean, we all saw that scene where he pinned steve against the wall with a broken beer bottle to his throat—albeit because he was defending himself—but that’s neither here nor there. eddie fucks, and he fucks good.

steve “good hair” harrington

↻ length: steve is a ken doll personified. except, unlike a ken doll, there’s actually something down there besides a flat surface—so rest assured, you won’t have to worry about bumping purses when doing the woo hoo. but here’s another controversial opinion: steve doesn’t have a big dick—it’s average, and that’s okay!

steve’s dick rests at a firm 5.3 inches flaccid, and a good 6.5 inches erect. not too big, and not too small. just…perfect, like him.

↻ width: for what he lacks in length, he makes up for in girth! yeah, you’re getting 6 inches, but he’s hitting you with that stretch—and it burns, but in the best way imaginable.

↻ color: the prettiest boy in hawkins has to have the prettiest cock, right? i think it’d be pretty light in comparison to the rest of his body. when i think of him, i feel like he’d be one of those guys who are kinda tan but when they take off their pants, they have the most bizarre looking tan lines ever, and their ass is brighter than the moon! anyway, i digress; it’d be pretty pale with a mean, red tip when aroused, and strawberry pink when it’s soft.

extra:

↻ groomed: yes. he keeps it really simple. shaves it down real low but not enough to the point where he’s bald.

↻ curved: as straight as a pencil

↻ veins: has one on the top of his shaft that wraps around the head

↻ how he uses it: we’re talking about steve here. steve the womanizer, steve the public enemy and panty dropper of seasons one through three. he’s all about that doggy style life. don’t let his himbo persona in season four fool you, that man is a whore! he likes to get down and dirty, and if that includes you on your hands and knees, with your face shoved into the sheets while your tears drip down onto the sheets…then, so be it.

billy “ima turn you out” hargrove

↻ length: i am not a billy hargrove enjoyer but i can’t sit here and lie to you, i just won’t. that silly little fella’s got a cock the size of a bull…

8.2 inches.

no, i’m not taking criticism. he’s big, end of story.

↻ width: the length matches the girth, sis. if you think you can take him—you can’t. and if you think i’m kidding—i’m not. think coke bottle, but longer.

↻ color: tanned to perfection, because of course it is, he was a lifeguard for god sake!

extra:

↻ groomed: like steve, he keeps it pretty well trimmed. although, sometimes, he lets it grow out so he can show off his happy trail. and a sight to see it is!

↻ curved: oh my days, it curves to the right—like a lot. a real captain hook.

↻ veins: absolutely covered in ‘em, but the most prominent one resides on the side of his shaft and if you really look at it, it kinda looks like a little lighting bolt.

↻ how he uses it: you can’t have sex with billy and expect intimacy, that just isn’t happening. he likes it with absolutely no strings attached and no eye contact. so, expect to be thrown into all types of obscure positions, his favorite of which includes you with half of your body hanging off the bed and him pounding mercilessly into you from behind. honestly, as long as billy gets a view of your ass, he doesn’t really care.

jim “big zaddy” hopper

↻ length: the biggest dick on this list. a true monster cock, that is it, that is all.

but if i had to give a specific measurement…9 inches. whether that’s his measurement soft or erect, i’ll let you be the judge of that.

↻ width: he’s so thick that he’d probably split your pussy open if he didn’t properly prepare you, and even then, you’d still never be prepared enough :(

↻ color: i’d say it would be one or two shades darker than his complexion, and the head is definitely not pink. more like a rouge mixed with a little brown.

extra:

↻ groomed: jim just gives grown man, you know? like obviously, he is one, but i just think there’s something so sexy about a man with body hair! so, i don’t think he’d keep it well trimmed, or trimmed at all for that matter. and if he does decide to take a pair of scissors to it, it’s very, very rare.

↻ curved: surprisingly, no. it’s straight, but extremely heavy and he has big man balls to match.

↻ veins: yes, just like billy, they’re all over. with a dick as big as his, he’s gonna need all the veins he can get to transport the appropriate amount of blood to it.

↻ how he uses it: very traditional, very cute and sweet. likes to fuck in missionary because he’s a real man, and he prefers to look into his lover’s eyes while pleasuring them. however, that doesn’t mean he’s a prude. if he wants to, he could put you in a full nelson, but he usually just opts for something that won’t throw his old man back out :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x reader smut #billy hargrove smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x reader smut #stranger things smut

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nyctophiliq · 1 year

Text

art student! ellie taking slutty polaroids of you !

i was having some thoughts about art student! ellie as i was rolling through what majors the uni i applied for was letting applications in for and this popped into my silly mind.

cw for pornography, vaginal sex, groping, strap-on use, dacryphilia

ellie who has already painted countless portraits of you sitting in the snow, in the sun, laying on the grass, reading, and any other activities you can think of. the same ellie who has sketchbooks full of you as her anatomic reference, paintings, and pencil drawings of you sleeping naked after a night of passion, hidden away in the very bottom of her school bag. but this, this was something else.

“no, no, don’t be shy baby. the camera loves you.”

her hips never stop trusting into you as she lifts up the metal box, her other hand reaching to grope the soft mound as she tries to position the camera at the right angle to take a perfect photo. you looked so cute like this, hands gripping the sheets, your legs wrapped around her waist, back arching the slightest, and eyes closed, head twitching side to side as you were nearing the edge.

you were such a needy thing, fighting her hands as she tried to position you in the prettiest way she could with her cock deep inside your pussy. you writhe so much, she can hardly keep you in your place but she only takes the picture she is going to keep in the inner pocket of her coat when you come. you still for that brief second, back lifting off the bed, the back of your palm coming to cover your eyes when the camera flashes.

but it’s not enough, there is never enough of you in ellie’s eyes and she is relentless as she chases her own high by overstimulating your already worn out walls and bundle of nerves. this once she isn’t paying attention to your needs but rather hers and all she can think of is you, you, you, your body. the way you cry that it’s enough, that you cannot take it no more, slurring your words and your weak hands try to push her off of you is just puts more onto the fire in the pits of her stomach.

ellie discards the camera your side, leaning down to hover over you with her hands gripping the sheets beside your head, keeping herself up and anchored. she takes a few ragged breaths, huffing as she tries to move despite her muscles feeling numb and pulls out of you. sweat drips from her forehead and shoulders, her whole body shining in front of your eyes before she lays next to you.

despite being out of breath, her mind still being clouded by the bliss of her orgasm she coos a few sweet thing into your ear as she covers the both of you up with a blanket, reaching for the printed polaroid from the camera on your side and showing it to you.

“see? every color, expression, and curve of your body is perfectly embodied in this photo.”

#📗 — written by moss !#ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie willams #tlou ellie x reader #tlou smut #tlou x reader #tlou x reader smut #ellie williams #ellie x reader #tlou ellie williams #tlou ellie x reader smut #tlou ellie

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eyesxxyou · 4 months

Note

You should write mean hobie taking advantage of poor ditzy reader's oral fixation by taking every chance to hook his fingers in their mouth. And also realising how eager they are and how much they love when he's mean, and him becoming lowkey sadistic <3

❝ oral fixation ❞ hobie brown x gn!reader

❝ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ❞ hobie's fingers in your mouth, throat fucking with fingers, spitting in mouth, drooling, lots of saliva, implied oral sex

Hobie watched you chew your pencil. Teeth gnawing at the yellow-painted wood leaving indentations in it. You’ve been at it for half an hour now, chewing absentmindedly while listening to him strum at his guitar. Completely zoned out.

His boat swayed beneath you softly. Hobie was sitting with his feet kicked up and shirtless, his guitar resting in his lap. He stopped playing already and you haven't noticed yet. Chewing and chewing, staring blankly into the void of space before you.

Hobie set his guitar to the side and whirled around to get up. It was only then that you snapped back to reality, your spaced out eyes coming back to look at him and your mouth momentarily pausing their assault on the dull pencil. “What’cha stop playing for?” You ask, watching his approach with big, curious eyes.

“Shh.” Hobie shushed you softly. He stood before you, tall and lean, your sitting figure so short your face met his groin. He reached out and gently took the pencil from your feeble grip. You looked up at him, dumbfounded and ditzy. “Ya ain' even listenin’ t'me.”

He tossed the pencil away somewhere and grabbed your chin in a grip that made your lips pucker a little. “I don' appreciate no’ bein’ listened to, duck.” There was a small glint in his honey eyes, one you knew well.

He dragged his thumb across the seam of your lips before pushing it into your mouth. You didn't resist him, parted your teeth to let him hook his thumb in your jaw and pry your mouth open. “Open.” He cooed softly, the hand that was grasping your jaw

moved to grab a fistful of your hair at the scalp. He pulled your head back, opened your mouth further, his thumb pulling your jaw down.

He kept you like that until drool began to ooze down the corner of your lips. You jaw ached and you whined pleadingly, tongue sliding out over his thumb to offer your mouth to him. You were so eager to please, so desperate for his validation, always.

“Wha’ a dumb lil’ duck you are.” Hobie scoffed, opening your mouth wider, watching drool drip down your chin. Your eyes fluttered softly and you moaned as he tapped his fingers on your tongue.

One hand hooking your jaw open and the other with his fingers on your tongue, he slid the digits across the pink muscle, trailing further and further until his fingers curled into the pocket of your throat.

You gagged a little, your jaw wanting to come closed but Hobie kept it open. “Take i'.” He held his fingers in your throat, smiling at the way you drooled more and more until it dripped onto your lap. He slid his slender fingers in and out of the soft pocket of your throat, reveling in your small sounds of compliant pleasure, your gag reflex subsiding with each slip.

Now it was just wet, wet squelching as he fingered your throat and cooed sadistically at you. “Yer so messy, ducky.” And all at once he took his thumb and fingers from your mouth, leaving you messy and his fingers all wet.

Hobie leaned over you, his body hot and pretty before you. You could see him drag his tongue over his teeth beneath his lips, gathering saliva in one spot before puckering his full, bi-colored hips and letting a thick, glob of spit fall upon your tongue.

His fingers returned, tenderly. Pressing his saliva onto your wet tongue, he used his lengthy fingers to spread across the flat plane of the muscle and down the pretty throat of yours. “You’d le’ me do anythin’ to ya, wouldn'cha?”

You nodded with a vigor and a moan. You were so obedient, so pretty, so dumb. You watched the way he began to undo the button of his jeans, tellingly. You know what's coming next, a reward for being so good for him.

“Keep ya mouf open now. I ‘ave a good use fo’ i’.”

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #hobie smut #astv hobie smut #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x reader

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befemininenow · 1 year

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Are you a trans girl or non-conforming and would like to try out feminine clothing? You may want to check this out.

Say you found this dress online and you really love the overall style of it. Great! If you’re like me, you would say “F it! I’ll buy the dress and I’ll wear it how I like!” and move on with your life. That should the end of this guide, right? Except, there is one little problem: not everybody thinks this way. Those who look for the best matching outfits aren’t just searching to fit their style, color, or personality. It also has to do with their body type. If you’re in that situation, this guide may help you out.

Body shape

Believe it or not, there are many different types of body shape (up to 10). However, the most common tend to be the following (in no order):

Rectangle- Even distribution on shoulders, hips, and waistline

Pear/Triangle- Wide hips, well-defined waist, small shoulders

Hourglass- Near-exact hip and shoulder measurements, thinner waistline

Inverted Triangle- Broader shoulders, narrower hips, little waist definition

Apple/Round- Broad shoulders and big bust, thin legs and hips

Many transgender women have the inverted triangle body shape due to several factors such as genetics, bone structure, and age. However, your body shape may also change over time due to a rebalancing of hormones, body fat, and even lifestyle. While you can’t change your bone structure, you can change your body definition through exercises.

Body proportion

Here is something you may find useful if you’re looking to customize your look. Body proportions are unique to every individual and play a factor on clothing and to some extent, accessories such as jewelry. For instance, you may find the skirt you bought looks either too long or short. There are a few areas where to measure your body proportions such as wrist length or neck size. But the best way to improve your dress type is by following the “golden ratio rule” of dividing your body into three:

The way this is read is you’re either one-third top, two-thirds bottom, or you’re two-thirds top, one-third bottom. Once you get more knowledge, you can go upwards even eighths! But for now, the focus is on these two outcomes.

The two-thirds top, one-third bottom words well with long dresses:

while the one-third top, two-thirds bottom works well with more casual clothing:

Body measurements

Now that we got a few problems out of our way, it’s time to figure out what measurements you have. The best way to find out is by using a mirror and a soft measuring tape for body. Measure all the crucial parts of your body, which are the waist, hips, shoulders, and bust. This will determine the type of body you have and have a better idea on what length you will need to try out your clothing of choice.

Shoe size

One thing very important about an outfit is choosing footwear. Although you can use your old Converses with your flared jeans, you’re certainly not going to use them with a ruffled dress. You’re definitely going to want heels or flats! Unfortunately, women’s shoe size are not exactly the same as men. But don’t give up! Fortunately, there are women’s size conversion charts that help you choose what shoe size you need.

To find out your measurements on your own, grab at least two blank pieces of paper, a pencil or pen, and a measuring tape. Place your foot firmly forward and carefully trace around the outer area of your foot. Repeat this with your other foot. Once finished, grab your measuring tape and measure from your highest point to your lowest on both sheets. Measure the width as well. If both feet measure close to 10.5, your women’s size is a 12. However, due to a difference in manufacturing based on shoe brand, as well as shoe type like pumps, the average recommended size is at least 2 inches above your actual size. For those living in other countries that don’t use the US measuring size, I left a chart that shows all the possible measurements you may use to convert your shoe size into women’s size.

What to wear based on body type

Since not all clothing is made for everyone, it’s time to list what is considered the “ideal” clothing choices based on body type. Note that these are opinions from my source’s authors. IMO, the pictures below each suggestion are a better opinion. Your are free to choose your type of clothing.

Rounded or apple shapes fit best with monochrome colors and make the person look more “fit”.

Pear or triangle shapes look more balanced with decorative accessories on top while keeping the bottom more plain.

Rectangle shapes tend to have more volume with a waist belt while pleated pants give more volume on hips.

Hourglass shapes look best when wearing bodycon dresses and cardigans to emphasize volume in their waistline.

Inverted triangle shapes pull off the wide leg pants and fitted top combo the best.

For a much more comprehensive guide for each body type, I highly recommend reading The Concept Wardrobe’s guides. It gives more details on what to wear and how to choose the best combinations. Link is provided here: https://theconceptwardrobe.com/search?query=body+frame

Tips on what to wear

Now that you reached this point, I’m pretty sure you’re excited to try out what your heart desires. However, before you go out and buy that two-piece dress, I recommend researching and observing the type of clothing women wear today. Believe it or not, people will judge based on your way of dressing, from background to social status to age. A simple look like bodysuit and jeans may look perfect on you and blend you in with the girls, but something like a hot pink bodycon will make you stand out, and most likely not in a good way. So how would you choose something that blends you in with society, but also be comfortable at the same time? Here are some tips and pics:

Find clothing that “feels” feminine. In other words, buy clothing that “feminizes” your body, such as tops that make your shoulders look shorter, wrap dresses that make your waistline shorter, and skirts that make your hips look wider.

Find the best colors based on skin tone and hair color. For instance, try out warm colors such as orange if your skin tone is warm.

Dress sexy, but never go too revealing. Seriously, have some respect to yourself. But if you really want to go out wearing, for example, a two-piece outfit, wear one that looks stylish and flatters your body in a great way.

Use accessories that fit and blend well with your body. Large jewelry goes well with larger frame, small jewelry fits with smaller wrist, and so forth. Don’t forget the purse! It is absolutely necessary now that you’re wearing pocketless clothing. Choose one that fits your taste and needs.

Bras and undergarments are necessary to wear now. As you further into your transition, your breasts will start growing and it will become more difficult and uncomfortable going out braless. Start out with a brassiere, then move on to a fitted bra as they become bigger over time. As for down there, I would use boy briefs as they’re similar to boxers. Although HRT will cause it to shrink, it does not make it disappear. If you must hide it, use a gaff or a tuck, but do not use chastity belts (Seriously, stay away from that unless you’re really into that thing).

Optional: use waist shapers or corsets to slim down waist. Hip enlargement pads will also give your narrow hips and butt much needed volume. Breast forms can also give you an idea how big you want them in the future.

Fashion sense

But the most important part of choosing clothing as a trans girl is to wear whatever suits your taste.

For instance, are you more into the traditional and simple feminine aesthetic? Cottagecore may be for you:

But what if you’re the rebellious type that prefers to defy tradition? Well, maybe the alt-girl fashion is for you:

Maybe you’re the type that changes clothing based on season. So if you’re a summer-season type of girl, you’re definitely going for an outfit like this:

How about if you’re into the gym? Clearly your goal is to be like this:

Are you into business casual? There’s also a pic for that:

(The girl in the pic is also transgender! Her name is Suzi Hunter, better known as The Sphere Hunter.)

But we also can’t forget cosplay, either!:

(Cosplayer is Eden the Doll, a trans woman cosplayer! Picture belongs to Geo Leon.)

You’re probably the party type who loves some action:

Casual wear can also be tasteful and attractive too:

There’s so much to pic, but each style says a lot about what type of woman you are.

Where to buy clothing

If you’re interested in finding the right clothes for you, check out places that are especially gender-inclusive. As I’m based in the US, clothing stores such as Target are a good start while higher-end chains such as Nordstrom and Macy’s may have a better variety to choose from. If you’re a thrifty shopper, your local outlets, discount stores, and thrift shops have a surprising amount of great clothing for affordable prices. Although online sites like Amazon, Shein, and Zara have affordable and appealing clothing, many of these brands also have ethical concerns that overshadow their reputation. Dubbed “fast fashion”, they are a source of scrutiny among fashion fans and I would personally avoid them if possible. If you really need something affordable and new, I highly recommend purchasing through discount and thrift stores.

If you’re in need of safe undergarments, check out Urbody. They have clothing suitable for trans people, non-binary, and other identities, varying from binders to tucked leggings. They are founded by trans and non-binary people and use ethical practices and living wages for their workers. If you’re interested in checking their site out, here is the link to their page (I am not sponsored by them): https://urbody.co/

Conclusion

The whole point of this guide is to help you pick the proper clothing and accessories as a newly-out girl. I made this guide since there doesn’t seem to be many that are detailed. Keep in mind I’m still learning about female clothing as I am still in the first stages of transition myself. If anyone would like to add more info that is missing or provide any corrections, please reblog and add more helpful tips as it would help trans girls, trans women, non-binary, and anyone else that desires to wear affirming clothing. Please refrain from using any hurtful language if you’re doing so. Thank you and hugs!

Links to sources:

https://www.healthline.com/health/women-body-shapes#why-shape-fluctuates

https://www.thestylatude.com/post/the-most-common-body-shapes-for-women-and-how-to-find-out-yours

https://theconceptwardrobe.com/build-a-wardrobe/inverted-triangle-body-shape

https://www.thestylebouquet.com/2020/02/17/5-most-common-body-shapes-for-women/

https://dressedformyday.com/how-to-discover-your-body-proportions/

https://gabriellearruda.com/how-to-dress-better-female-body-shape/

https://m2fguide.com/how-to-pick-clothes-if-youre-transgender-or-crossdressing/

https://feminizationsecrets.com/mtf-clothing-tips/

https://www.instagram.com/p/CHBk9v0J_WO/

https://www.transgendermap.com/social/clothing-accessories/

https://apexfoot.com/shoe-sizing-chart/

https://www.glamourboutique.com/crossdresser-fashion/guide-male-female-shoe-sizes-33255#:~:text=Minimize%20the%20chance%20of%20having,11%20in%20a%20women's%20shoe

#transgender #mtf #fashion #how to #gender affirming #trans #clothing #feminine #genderfluid #quick #guide #helpful #tips #trans woman

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