#and pulling him aside and bringing him into a space where he can be by himself and calm down

[leixinyus]

#an jun peng #lin chia wei #history 4: close to you #taiwanese drama #manydramagifs #twdramaedit #say what you want about yongjie (and believe me i have a lot to say too) #but this moment really got me #just something something about yongjie realizing that ye xingsi's about to break down #and have a panic attack (that's what it was to me) #and pulling him aside and bringing him into a space where he can be by himself and calm down #because you just KNOW that ye xingsi would have approached the whole public breakdown as him 'inconveniencing his family' #which obviously it isn't #but i just think that this was in all ways a really considerate move by yongjie

[solarmorrigan]

“Hey.”

Eddie looks up from the inventory sheet he’s bent over (the new shipment of records isn’t going to record itself – Christ, that was awful, Henderson is contagious) to see his coworker Kyle poking his head into the back room.

“Someone left something for you at the counter.”

“Who?” Eddie asks, brows furrowed.

Most everyone in town seems to have let the murder accusations drop (embarrassed enough by their own fanatical reactions that they’d much rather forget the whole thing), but a few people still treat him like a felon walking free; it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.

“Uh, real normie-looking guy. Gives you a ride sometimes.”

Eddie blinks. “Steve?”

“Yeah, sure.” Kyle shrugs. “Says you left it in his car.”

Whatever Eddie is expecting to see when he follows Kyle back out to the front counter of the music shop, a brown bag lunch isn’t it. He most certainly hadn’t left that in Steve’s car this morning.

Steve hadn’t even given him a ride that morning.

But it’s got his name on it, sure enough, in Steve’s weirdly neat handwriting. The asshole even drew a little heart next to it.

Eddie can already feel a smile pulling across his face as he snatches up the bag. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten his lunch in Steve’s car, but he certainly hadn’t brought one in with him. He’d been planning to hit up the McDonald’s down the street if he got desperate, but whatever Steve’s brought him is bound to be better.

“Your girlfriend pack that for you?” Kyle asks.

Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh, for a minute not quite sure how to answer.

Gender assumptions aside, Eddie doesn’t know what to call this thing with Steve – this thing where they’d started screwing and then they’d started falling asleep together without screwing and then they’d started spending all their free time together and now Steve does things like pack Eddie lunch and bring it to him at work.

“Sorta,” he finally settles on.

“Dude, if she’s making you lunch and writing little hearts next to your name, she’s more than ‘sorta’ your girlfriend,” Kyle says.

“Yeah… Maybe,” Eddie allows, because – well, because maybe.

“Pretty nice of your friend to drive it over, though,” Kyle says. “Pretty sure at least half of my friends would’ve just eaten it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, warm and a little smug, “Steve’s a good dude.”

He digs into the lunch sack and finds an apple sitting on top (of course), a baggie of Keebler fudge cookies (score), and a Tupperware container filled with–

“Oh, fuck yes!” Eddie hugs the precious little tub full of macaroni and cheese to his chest like he’s doing his best Gollum impression. There is nothing in the world better than Steve’s mac and cheese.

It’s still warm.

“I’m taking my break!” Eddie declares, skittering off to the back room before Kyle can argue.

He sits himself down in the employee break area (a crappy folding table, two mismatched chairs, and a microwave so old he’s probably getting radiation poisoning just by sitting next to it) and digs in to the cheesy goodness that is Steve’s cooking.

He’ll eat the apple after, he reasons.

(No he won’t.)

As he eats, his eyes drift back to the crumpled brown bag, to the little heart drawn in bleeding black sharpie, and he thinks.

-

Steve’s house smells like chicken and herbs when Eddie lets himself in early in the evening, and oh, Steve must be in a good mood today.

Eddie feels spoiled.

He finds Steve in the kitchen, wrist-deep in sudsy water as he sways back and forth absently to the tune of the rock station coming from the radio on the windowsill. The room is warm, and something delicious-smelling in a covered pan is simmering on the stove, and the space behind Steve is invitingly empty, just waiting for Eddie to sidle up into it.

Eddie feels so, so spoiled.

Steve doesn’t startle when Eddie slides in behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, but Eddie isn’t really surprised anymore; it seems like Steve can always tell when someone is there.

He does glance over his shoulder, though, just long enough for Eddie to see the smile on his face before he turns back to the dishes. “Hi.”

Eddie’s pretty sure the smile on his own face is softer and infinitely more besotted. “Hi.”

“Good day at work?” Steve asks.

Eddie hums, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s shoulder. “You brought me lunch.”

“I’m glad Kyle actually gave it to you,” Steve says. “Wasn’t sure someone else wouldn’t eat it.”

“I got it,” Eddie says, as if there was any doubt with the way he’s still smiling in between trailing little kisses up Steve’s neck.

Steve shuts the water off and dries his hands on the towel hanging off the cupboard door before turning in Eddie’s arms to give him a proper kiss. “It was good?”

Eddie hums again. “You brought me lunch.”

“We’ve established that, yeah,” Steve laughs, allowing Eddie another kiss as he grins.

“You made me lunch,” Eddie says, pecking another kiss to Steve’s lips, still smiling like an idiot. “And you drove it up to the store for me.”

Steve shrugs, a little coy. “It’s my day off. I had time to kill.”

“Kyle says that makes you more than sorta my girlfriend,” Eddie replies, as if that will make any sense at all to Steve.

Whether it makes sense or not, it does make him laugh, and Eddie peppers kisses all over his face while he does.

“So it was good?” Steve asks again, when he’s caught his breath.

“You made me lunch and then you drove it over to me,” Eddie stresses. “It could’ve tasted like ass, and it still would’ve been the best thing ever.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but is more than obliging to the deep kiss Eddie pulls him into after that.

“But just so we’re clear,” Steve says when they break apart, “it didn’t taste like ass, right?”

“Oh my god, no,” Eddie finally relents. “It was literally the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I’m going to marry you so you can make that mac and cheese for me every day.”

“Every day, huh?” There’s a funny little smile climbing back over Steve’s face. “You sure you won’t get sick of it?”

“Nah,” Eddie replies confidently. “Never.”

They’re both smiling a little too much now to really kiss, but they make a good go of it anyway.

[Prompt: Smiling between kisses]

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote

[luveline]

If you’re still up for requests — could you maybe do one where peter or remus comes home after a visibly bad day and the reader misinterprets his behavior and assumes he’s upset with her instead ?? like she’s walking on eggshells, silently fussing around trying to figure out what she did, meanwhile all he wants to do is hold her and decompress 🥺☹️

absolutely no pressure! <33

“Oh my god.” Peter lets out a pained groan at the door, followed by the plastic crinkle of shopping bags hitting the floor. “My back. Jesus.” 

You look up in surprise from your book at the table. “I thought we were going together?” 

“I couldn’t face coming home and going out again.” He drags the bags to the fridge and pauses. “I figured you’d be okay with not having to go?” 

“Sure,” you agree immediately. He has a black cranky fog around him, you can practically feel it as you get up to help him unpack the bags. He doesn’t seem best pleased with you.

He rubs his eyes, rubs his mouth, and turns to the sink. He runs the faucet, pulling one of the glasses back off of the draining board to fill, and wincing at the harsh sound when he turns it too fast. Peter forgets his own strength every now and then —usually when he’s not feeling well. 

Peter gives you a funny look as you step into his space. You quickly step out of it and start to load groceries into the fridge and cabinets, pleased to find he’s bought the things you would’ve gotten yourself and even some things you’d have wanted but not allowed yourself. Maybe he’s not that mad after all—

“God damn,” he says, rolling an empty bag into a ball in his hand, “I forgot the fucking laundry detergent again.” 

“That’s okay–”

“It’s not okay, you’ve asked me to get it three times this week.” 

“I was just reminding you,” you say, fingers tingling with the potential of an impending argument. “It’s fine. We haven’t run out yet, we can squeeze another wash out of it. I’ll get some tomorrow.” 

He sits down in the chair you’d been sitting in and moves your book and plate of snacks aside, neither gentle nor rough about it. “Damn,” he says again, dropping his face into his hands.

“Pete…” 

His eyes must be sore by now he’s rubbing them so much, hands held to his eyes and fingers scratching into his hair. He tips his face toward the table and lets himself sit with whatever it is that’s getting him down. Me, you think worriedly. I shouldn’t have asked him to get groceries today. You knew he had a longer shift than usual, and that he’d want to do some Spidering afterward. 

You’ve sorry on the tip of your tongue when he lays his face heavily in one hand, elbow on the table barely keeping him up, and holds the other out toward you. Rejecting him doesn’t even cross your mind. 

“Fuck, I missed you today,” he says, taking your hand as soon as you offer it and dragging you toward him. You peer down at him with wide eyes as he wraps his arm around you, his nose quick to hide in the linen of your shirt. His voice tickles, “I just wanted to be with you. I knew this would make me feel better.” 

There’s a little dry barb at the back of your throat you can’t speak past. Peter doesn’t notice, rubbing his cheek in your side as he repositions you for optimal hugging. He lets out a self-pitying whine, second arm joining the first in a lock behind your back. “You smell amazing.” 

“I do?” you ask finally. 

“I think you’re just made for me, angel,” he says, voice dragging with fatigue. “You always smell good.” 

You squint with lips pursed, blinking in confusion as you bring your hand up to his hair. “Thanks for going to the store.”

“You’re welcome. I can’t function without groceries either, anyways.” He sighs with the particular Parker brand of lovelorn contentedness, a familiar sound. He makes the same noise when you’re tucked up in bed together on the weekends with nowhere to go, or holding hands on the subway travelling home, knee to knee or intertwined. “Can’t believe how quickly you make me feel better,” he murmurs. 

“I kinda thought you were mad at me,” you confess, matching his tone.

“You have some strange wires crossed in your brain,” he says. His sympathy and affection for you is palpable; his hand tracks a soft line down the curve of your back. 

“Yeah, I know. Do you want me to rub your shoulders?” you ask, pressing your face to the mop of his thick hair. 

He hugs you tightly. “You’re my dream girl.” 

#tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter parker x you #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker oneshot #peter parker blurb #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x you #spiderman fanfiction

[erwinsvow]

babes 🙊 what about kook trio with bsf rafe and reader playing spin the bottle but she spins and it doesn’t land on him and he’s like nope not an option. can’t stop thinking about it!!

STOPPPPP this is so juicy n good. ur mind > ♡ i changed it a lil bc i literally misread it. lmfao

you were the perfect amount of drunk and giggly, legs folded on the ground while you took another sip out of the plastic red cup. your skirt moved around while you made yourself comfortable, exposing the skin of your upper thighs.

you don't notice that rafe's been staring at your legs since you sat down. but he has been, drunk himself and mind spinning. he likes you like this—sweeter, more compliant. some of your snark has melted away, and you're being nicer than usual to rafe.

you lean against his shoulder, looking up at him with your big pretty eyes, blinking fast. your shirt isn't that tight, one glance down and he can see into it.

"y'okay?" he asks, moving in to ask it quietly against your ear. you squirm, something he enjoys too much.

"yeah, rafey, m'fine," you mumble back, pulling away. he keeps his hand on your knee though, and you look down at where he's touching you, while he looks down at you. you're about to put your hand on his, probably do some drunk shit like compare the sizes of your hands, but topper, drunker than either of you, shoves himself between the two of you.

kelce and the girl he's been talking to all night are next, adding more space between you and rafe. you look upset, but just for a moment, settling to rest your head on top's shoulder instead.

rafe's already pissed at that, pissed even more when others sit down and join, making a little circle. you're quiet still, playing with the hem of your skirt while talking with topper, a conversation rafe can't hear.

someone brings an empty beer bottle, the girl kelce is trying to get with suggesting they play spin the bottle. she spins first, and of course it lands on kelce, them leaning in for a kiss that goes on for too long.

"it's spin the bottle," you start with another laugh. you put your empty cup aside. "not seven minutes, kelce." they pull away, the girl shoving the bottle towards you.

rafe watches the whole thing unfold in a matter of seconds—your laugh and sweet smile, your hand reaching for the bottle, letting it spin on the ground in a circle. he looks around, topper looking at the bottle intensely, clearly wanting it to land on him. another boy sitting across from you is smiling smugly, staring at your exposed skin.

"alright, everybody out. now. get up, get out." rafe says, standing up. "are you fuckin' deaf? get the fuck outta my house." they comply, the strangers getting up and stalking away, kelce bringing his girl close and shooting rafe a confused look. top looks mildly annoyed but he doesn't say anything, heading over to the beer counter.

you stay where you are on the floor, looking up at rafe confused. he sits back down, and you come closer, resting your head on his shoulder again, like you had been earlier. he wraps his arm around your shoulder, playing with the ends of your hair that hang there.

"rafe?"

"yeah kid?" you look down at the bottle.

"the bottle was pointing at you."

#silly n cute #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #kook trio reader

[prettyboywoll]

☪︎ I need you - Matt Rempe ☪︎

pairing(s): fem!reader x Matt Rempe

warnings: not proofread, public sex (they don’t get caught), unprotected sex, and cock riding

WC: 557

Notes: first time writing for Matt. Not good at writing smut but I’m trying lol. this was rushed. anyways hope you guys like it<3

As you stood in the hotel room, your gaze swept across the space in search of a suitable cover-up. You felt a sense of urgency, as Matt had been pleading with you to join him at the beach for quite some time. Despite your best efforts, you were unable to locate any suitable options among your belongings. In an act of desperation, you reached for Matt's light blue dress shirt from his suitcase and quickly threw it on, hoping it would suffice as a beach cover-up.

walking out towards the balcony, you find Matt on his phone with his feet up on the table, shirtless, wearing his swimming shorts that made his abs look so hot. Feeling yourself become wet you squeeze your thighs together wishing it your 6’7 boyfriend was between them.

“Hi baby, you ready to go?” You asked him, grabbing the bag that was placed nicely beside him as Matt’s eyes trail down to your bikini and his dress shirt. He bites his lips, dropping his phone onto his lap to bring you closer to him.

“Give me a minute” He muttered against your stomach.

Bringing his hands to rest on your ass, his lips continue to dance along your skin on your stomach, enjoying the smoothness.

“Matty, don’t do this to me” you whined, wanting him to touch you where you needed him the most. Running your hands through his hair you tug at it when you feel him pull your bottoms to the side.

“I need you, baby.” He said, pressing his fingers onto your clit, moving in circular motions as your body begins to feel impossibly hot.

Matt’s hands leave you pull his shorts down, fishing out his hard member and pumping it with his right hand. You moan at the sight of the precum oozing out of his slit, saliva starts to pool quickly in your mouth. “You wanna ride me out here on the balcony” He ask with a smirk.

“Omg yes, please” You nodded eagerly.

“I’m not gonna last long just letting you know” Matt says as he continues to pump himself. quickly getting rid of you bottom you toss them aside not caring where it lands. His hands grip your waist to help you sink down onto his cock. Without any warning he starts to thrust up into you harshly.

“God I love your cock” you moaned, bringing your lips to kiss and bite at his jaw gently when you hear Matt groan, suck on his Adam's apple and kiss down to his collarbones leaving little marks.

“I’m so close, baby”

“Oh yeah? You gonna let me cum inside?” He slaps your ass when he feels you clench around him. When You feel him start to slow down, you place both of your hands on his chest and bounce hard on his cock.

“Yes. Come inside me, Matty. Make a mess”

You feel his cock swell, hitting that spot he knows so well, ejaculating hard, his hot, sticky mess coats your insides and he grabs your hips suddenly.

“Cum, baby- you can do it”

your head tips back letting out a silent cry when you cum. Matt takes his dress shirt off your body to unclip your bikini top and expose your breasts. He sucks harshly on your nipple causing you to moan out loudly.

“Round 2?”

#matt rempe #Matt rempe smut #new york rangers #nhl smut #hockey smut #nhl writing #nhl hockey smut #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl hockey imagines

[princessbrunette]

Do you remember the hammock outside the chateau where john b was lying down in episode 1? Him and reader lying down beside eachother while he stuffs her with his fingers😵‍💫 it's out in the open and anyone could see but johnbees fingers just feel too good to stop😞

🍡🤍🪽୭

his leg is looped around yours keeping your thighs pinned open and there’s a grin on his face— like he knew what he was doing was bad, but he just couldn’t help himself.

“john—john b—” you’re breathless as his fingers punch pornographic sounds out of you, your bikini bottoms pulled fully to the side.

“who? yeah i… dont know who that is.” he tilts his head with faux confusion, brows frowned but his smug smile still remaining.

“daddy— daddy someone’s gonna see. anyone could see!” you correct yourself and he plants a reassuring kiss to your temple, his thumb smoothing over your clit to soothe you.

“no one is going to see, okay?” his voice rumbles warmly against where you’re laying on his chest and you clench around his knuckles, jaw dropping with a shuddered whimper. “this is my house, right? aaaall this space out here is mine to use. if i wanna fuck you in my hammock, guess what. i can do just that, and there’s not a soul around to stop me.” he sarks, spare hand coming to squeeze at your tit, pulling the triangle of your bikini top aside only exposing you further.

“daddy!” you cry out in fear, knowing how the pogues were no stranger to impromptu drop-ins. if they were to arrive now, john b was fully clothed — it would be you on full display.

“easy, puppy. not listening to me.” he brings a sterner edge to his voice and you instantly force yourself to behave— trying your best to relax against his chest and let him please you. “th’atta girl. just focus on my fingers, yeah? should be easy for you, bubba.”

you melt, and soon you’re trembling hard — feeling yourself coming up on an orgasm. john b smiles down proudly at you, continuing to work you over. “i know, iiii know. feels just right, doesn’t it? you can cum, sweetheart. whenever you like.” his comforting tone drives you over the edge, moaning out into the open land, not knowing who could be near by. in the moment, you didn’t care.

🍡🤍🪽୭

#anon #john b prompt

[notyetneedcoffee]

May I?

Kinktober - Consent NSFW - Adults Only

Summary: You are careful to get Bucky's permission.

Bucky Barnes normally did not allow people into his apartment. It’s not like there was anything to see. A chair. A TV. A bed he never slept in. The light above the stove in the little kitchen was the only thing to illuminate the emptiness of his space.

“So, you’re a hoarder.” You said, deadpanned, as you stepped into the living room.

Bucky huffed a laugh as he turned on the small side table lamp. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I, ah, I wasn’t really planning on bringing you back here tonight.”

“It’s okay.” You dropped your purse and jacket on the floor by the little counter separating the kitchen and living room. As you toed off your shoes, you made sure to gauge his reaction. Bucky’s shoulders lowered just a little.

“Do you want a drink or something? I think I have a few beers left.”

“Naw. I’m good.” You came closer to him, taking his gloved hand in yours. “I’d really like to kiss you again.”

His eyes brightened as he leaned forward. You rose on your toes to meet him halfway. For such a hard man, his lips were impossibly soft. His tongue touched your lips and you eagerly opened for him, matching his enthusiasm.

Pulling away a bit you tugged at his jacket. “Are you going to get comfortable?” He stilled. You smiled. “Bucky, you can be comfortable with me. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

His eyes closed and he tipped his head forward. “I want to.”

You slowly removed his gloves, tossing them beside your coat. You ran your fingers over his metallic palm, entwined your fingers with his. “I know you have complete control, but can you really feel my touch.”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s different, but yeah.”

You brought his hand to your mouth and kissed his palm. Bucky stared, transfixed. You kissed the tip of his fingers. His breath increased. You lightly sucked on his forefinger. Bucky’s eyes closed and nearly imperceptible whine escaped his throat.

Bucky cupped your face with both of his hands and kissed you again. You slid your hands under his jacket, along his t-shirt. He let go of you just long enough to shed his jacket. The gleaming metal of his arm didn’t bother you. Neither did the solid pressure of it as he wrapped his arms around your waist to kiss you more.

“Doll,” He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “It’s been a while.”

“I know.” You toyed with the bottom of his shirt where it was tucked into his jeans. “Bucky. May I take this off?” He nodded. You pulled it up, grazing your fingertips along his flat stomach, over his powerful chest, until he lifted his arms and pulled the shirt off the rest of the way himself. Your fingers lingered on his chest. “Damn, you’re gorgeous.”

You reached behind you and unclipped your bra before drawing it along with your shirt over your head. Bucky panted, mouth slightly open. You took a half a step closer. “Will you touch me?”

He nodded. His right hand slid up your side to cup your breast. You drew his left hand to your skin, showing him you wanted him to touch you every way he could. Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you. His kiss became more demanding.  His hands explored your back.

“Doll,” Bucky sighed. “Damn, you feel so good.”

“Can I feel more of you?” You nipped at his jaw. He breathed a quiet ‘yes’ as you unfasted his belt.

He stared as you slipped from your pants, standing before him in just tiny white cotton underwear.

When you lowered yourself to your knees, Bucky face expressed so many emotions at once. Excitement, fear, adoration, nervousness. It went decidedly soft when you took your time unlacing his boots and removing them one at a time.

He went still as you unzip his jeans. His erection twitched as you barely brushed against it as you pushed his jeans over his hips. Jeans tossed aside, looking up at him, your hands ran up his thighs. Bucky’s eyes were wide, he chewed on his lower lip.

“Bucky,” You moved closer, so close you could smell his skin. “May I touch you?”

“Yes.” He breathed.

You lowered his boxer briefs and wrapped your hand around his cock. He let go of a shuttered breath. Thick and long. You stroked the silky skin covering the steel of his cock.

“May I,” You ran your nose along the underside of him. “taste you?”

“Oh god,” He groaned. “Yes.”

As your wet mouth wrapped around him, your felt his body twitch. His fingers stroked through your hair. You could feel his tight control beginning to wane. His hips rocked. His thighs locked.

“Fuck, Doll.” He clutched at you. “Stop. Stop. I can’t. . . Stop or this is over too soon.” You stood. Bucky’s thumb slid along your wet, swollen lower lip. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”

“Can we go to bed?”

He nodded, leading you to the other room. It was as sparse as the living room. You kissed him again before crawling to the middle of the mattress. Bucky leaned over you, looping his fingers in your underwear and pulled them down. Your legs fell open. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

“Please, Bucky.”

He slid his hands along your thighs, stroking slowly, moving slowly closer to your core. Long fingers stroked through your folds, gathering your wetness, teasing your clit. Bucky leaned forward with his weight on his free hand to kiss your breasts. His mouth sucked on your hard nipples, making your back arch.

Warmth pooled in your core. Still, you wanted this to be about him.

“Bucky.” You pulled him up and kissed him deeply. Giving a light shove, you pushed him over onto his back. Straddling his hips, you kissed his jaw. Nibbled at his neck. You whispered in his ear. “I want to make you feel good.”

Strong emotion swirled in his eyes. You stroked his chest, sitting back more. His hands came up to cup your breasts. You took his right hand in yours and sucked upon his finger, kissed his palm. “May I do that, Bucky?”

He nodded, visibly shaking at your words.

You reached down, stroking him, rubbing him along your wetness. His hands moved up and down your thighs. As you lowered yourself onto him, impaling yourself, Bucky moaned loudly. You rocked, loving his reaction, lost in the intensity.

“Oh god, Bucky.” You panted. “You feel so good.”

His fingers dug into the cheeks of your ass, rocking you as his hip pushed up. You braced your weight on your hands. You kissed his chest, his neck, his full beautiful mouth. Tension grew, swirling in your belly. Your eyes locked.

“Doll, ah, I’m gonna…”

“Yes,” You breathed. “Me too.”

“God, you’re amazing. Make me feel…wanted.” His gaze held you captive. “Feel so good.”

You moved faster. The coil tightened. You wanted to say things, confess things. The emotion nearly bringing tears to your eyes. His breath grew harsher, hips snapped faster. You began to quiver.

“Please, oh, fuck.” Bucky’s clutched at you. “Come for me.”

You came undone. Eyes locking closed and body shaking. Bucky wrapped his arms around you tight, pushing up into you fast and hard until the moan of his release filled your ears.

You lay atop him, limp and sated. His fingers drew lazy circles along your back. “Doll,” He sighed. “You’re too good for me.”

“No,” You kissed his chest.

He smiled. “Then may I call you my girl?”   

Want more? Check out my Master List.

#Kinktober #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes fanfic

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of kidnapper/kept pet series:

You’re trying again with Johnny.

Or, more accurately, Simon is going to bring Johnny over so that you can (hopefully) adjust to him. Desensitize, at least. Warm up, best case scenario. Simon knows better than to get his hopes up.

He tries to set up for success though. Tells you that he’s bringing Johnny over this time. You make an annoyed noise, scrunch up your face. But he can see a little bit of intrigue in your eyes. You really could use a little more socializing.

He preps Johnny this time too. Reminds him that your shy (standoffish) and cautious (feral). Not to make any sudden movements towards you, or try to grab at you. If you come near enough to touch (unlikely) it’s in his hand’s best interest to let you make first contact.

“Be patient, she’ll come ‘round,” he reminds as he lets Johnny in.

And you, in pure spiteful fashion, are no where to be found. Simon sets Johnny up with a beer and goes searching, finds you curled up on the sun porch angrily crocheting.

“Time to come inside, feral.”

“But he’s here.”

“He’s not so bad, I like him.”

“Exactly.”

You fuss and grumble, but ultimately there’s very little you can do when he scoops you up. He brings you inside, your crocheting things in one hand, you secure with the other. Johnny watches your little parade with arched eyebrows. But he doesn’t say anything.

You get deposited on the couch, a scritch to the back of the head that makes you scowl even as you lean in a bit. Johnny has taken up residence in an armchair a healthy distance from you. When you eye him distrustfully, he chuckles and pulls his shirt collar aside.

“No tags this time, stray.”

You scoff and turn back to your crafting. Simon takes the other end of the couch, knows you’re a bit keyed up today. There, but not imposing on your treasured personal space. You settle in, more or less, though your eyes keep flicking to Johnny while he and Simon talk.

He’s much different from Simon; it’s why he wants you two to at least tolerate each other. You need the enrichment. He louder, brasher, more energetic. Eventually, you slink off to the kitchen for a snack.

“Grab us another beer, eh?” He calls.

You stalk out with a scowl. “I’m not a dog, get it yourself.”

Simon huffs with amusement as you curl up on the couch again, nibbling on your snack. Johnny points at you, empty beer in hand.

“You’re ill-mannered.”

“Says the guy that doesn’t know ‘please’.” You hop off the couch and retreat to your room.

Simon shakes his head, though his eyes crease with amusement. “Keep fucking around and you’re gonna find out. Again.”

“You spoil her,” Johnny complains.

Simon sighs. He still doesn’t get it.

“She’s not a pet, yeah? I’m just keeping her.”

“What the difference?” Johnny groans, standing to get another beer.

“A cat is a pet. A panther is not.”

“Och, and she’s a panther, is that it?” Johnny rolls his eyes.

“I don’t want her domesticated, Johnny. I want her taken care of just the way she is. If you’d stop pissing her off, you’d see why.”

Johnny grumbles, but lets it go. Lets the thought sit. Considers all the things in this specially made house just for you. The tv, the overcrowded bookshelves. The plants for you to attend to and the craft supplies lying about. The room that is yours alone, off limits to johnny, even simon rarely enters.

When you emerge again, it’s because there’s food. You’re hungry and demand a plate from simon, hovering at his elbow while he makes it up for you.

Johnny makes more of an effort, keeping all the things Simon told him in mind. He knows your unlikely to speak to him unless antagonized, so he talks at you - a lot like how Simon did when you first started out.

Luckily for him, Simon’s paved most of the way for him here. At first you pretend to ignore him, but eventually you can’t help it, he is a very engaging story teller after all. So you end up watching him openly, eyes darting from his face to his waving hands to his shaking shoulders.

You’re so focused that he and Simon even manage to coordinate Johnny giving you dessert, him getting close enough to touch as you take the slice of cheesecake from his hand. He’s careful not to touch, doesn’t want to break this spell.

But the real victory of the evening comes when he’s actually stopped paying direct attention to you. He’s still got some cheesecake left, more focused on talking than eating, as usual. And unnoticed, you slip from your chair, circle him and…

“Oi, did you just-? Get back here!”

In a move of pure strategic genius, you tuck up behind Simon. First out of caution and a little genuine fear for his reaction, then when you see him floundering, out of safe smugness.

“Ah, yeah, should have warned you about that. She likes to ‘share’.”

Several times now, you’ve eaten directly off his plate, off his spoon, from his fingers, even. You especially like doing it when you think he’s not paying attention.

“Feral brat,” Simon chuckles, “I would have gotten you more.”

“Tastes better when it’s Johnny’s,” you reply.

#my writing #cod #fanfiction #reader fic #thoughts™️ #ghost x reader #simon x reader #x reader #john soap mactavish #dark fic

[bahrtofane]

dialogue 7 and trope 16 (Secret Relationship) with jude please

also congratulations on 300 followers my lovely, you deserve even more!! <3

Thank u sm for the lovely words i hope you enjoy <333

"ooohh you wanna kiss me sooo bad

Secret Relationship

word count. - 600+

watch it - Jude is clingy and does NAWT care

"Ooohh you wanna kiss me sooo bad.” Jude smiles, leaning into your space as you back hits the wall. He stares at you, gaze trailing shamelessly down to your lips where he lingers there for a moment. He inches closer, so much so that you can smell the body wash on him. Minty fresh. Dear god.

You look around the hallway that you’re both in, eyes wide,“Yeah but not here.” You hiss, pushing him aside and walking away briskly.

He pouts, chasing after you. Pet names and pleas on his lips.

Ever since he landed in Madrid his sights have been on you. You were so kind and welcoming. So sweet. But timid. He thought you were afraid of him at first, if not wary.

Quick to duck out of the way when your paths crossed and never once starting a conversation. Turns out you just had a crush and didn’t know how to deal with it. And the rest is history.

After much pleading, begging, promising, and much compromising, he has you more or less.

Sure you can’t kiss him in public, hell you can’t even go out together, but he's yours and you're just as much his.

The media would tear him apart for having a regular girlfriend imagine if they found out he was with a staff member. You wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Besides, he likes to keep you all to himself. Just for his eyes.

And you want to keep out of the public eye at all costs so it works out.

It’s nearly empty around the training facilities today, it's why you popped in where you know he lingers around to say hi. He has other plans, obviously.

Unable to keep his hands to himself and begging for kisses. There’s cameras all over the place, you would know. You monitor half of them yourself.

You turn a corner to a dimly lit corridor lined with contraction supplies at each bend and twist. It leads to a storage closet, and you know the cameras don’t reach back here.

Jude follows, squinting as he has to duck under a few wooden boards and shooing away spider webs. Plums of dust curl around him but he follows. Even if he's in nothing but a white wife beater, shorts and slides. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you wanted. Just lead him.

You lean against a tall cardboard box, you think it's filled with steel beams but what do you know.

He reaches you soon enough, opening a hand out and you gladly take it.

”Where in the world did you take me?” He looks around.

”Super secret hideout.” You nod.

”Do I get a kiss now?” He tries, eyes wide.

You pull him closer to you, “mhm.”

He leans down, gently bringing his hands to cup your face, setting a soft kiss to your lips. And another, and another and another till you’re a giggling mess.

“Want to come over for dinner later? Mom wants to make you your favorite.” He mumbles against your lips, thumbs caressing your cheeks.

You eyes shine, “really? That’s so sweet of course I’ll come.”

peck, “perfect,” peck. Peck. Peck.

You say your goodbyes, and he pouts the whole way. But you kiss promises into his skin and he perks up. Excited to have you for dinner.

What a man. You can’t wait to see Denise. She’s so sweet to you. Jude is a bonus you suppose (you love him so so much).

#bahr footy #jude x reader #jude bellingham #jude x you #jude bellingham x reader #bahr replies #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #jude fluff #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham headcanons #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fanfic #jb5 #jb5 blurb #bahr 300 event #jude bellingham fluff

[lovedazai]

INVISIBLE STRING

about even when you’re pressed against his chest as he waltzes you around his room, dazai can’t get enough of you.

ft. dazai + f!reader, suggestive ending

dazai’s arm hangs off his futon, sleeves rolled up far enough that the spot where his bandages end is exposed and rubs against his spongy tatami floors. it was a little early to be drinking, but he never paid any mind; the sake bottle you had both shared was long since emptied.

he feels warm. maybe from the alcohol slowly thrumming through his bloodstream, maybe from the summer heat, only fueled by the evening sunlight basking his room in gold, but definitely from you, curled against his chest, at the perfect angle for him to see your content little smile. he matches it when you peek up at him, the sun’s parting rays haloing your pretty face.

he smooths down your flyaways with his palm, tracing down your face until he reaches the soft outline of your lips, pressing down onto their plush. you press the smallest of kisses to his fingertip, and he barely conceals the tremor it causes.

“you’re so pretty,” you mumble, lips brushing against his thumb.

“how could you say that when i have the prettiest sight right here?” he cups your cheeks before you can get too far, fingers brushing your jaw as he kisses wherever he can reach: down the slope of your nose, your rounded cheeks, across your chin. he feels more than hears your breathy giggle when you pull away to slip your arms into the little space between his body and the top of his quilt to hold him completely.

he squeezes your waist, pulling you with him when he sits up. you’re wrapped up in one of his shirts, and the soft cotton cuff of your sleeve skims his face as you tuck his bangs away, cradling him like he was something delicate.

“are you feeling okay, ‘samu?”

your unwavering care for him never failed to make his heart swell. even if his blood-soaked past had been cleansed, no amount of good deeds would have been enough for him to deserve you.

“come here,” you tilt your head as he grabs both of your hands, lifting you to your feet. “i want to dance with you.”

he pulls you to the center of his tiny dorm, kissing the corner of your lips, parted in surprise.

“you know how to dance?”

he answers you with a wink, fingertips trailing down your spine until he’s pulling you to his chest by his hand on your lower back. you’re close enough for your noses to brush, and he can’t help but steal a kiss. he steps forward, then back, turning you carefully.

“i don’t know what i’m doing,” you pout, looking down at your feet. he brings your gaze back to his with a finger under your chin. 

“don’t worry,” he whispers the words against your forehead, lips lingering as his hand falls to the soft curve of your shoulder, then the little bend of your arm, all the way down until he meets your fingertips, peeking out from your oversized sleeves. he intertwines your hands, raising them with a squeeze. “just follow me.”

he waltzes you in small circles. he’s careful to dodge your pair of fuzzy socks thrown on the floor, the sharp edge of a phone charger tossed aside, the discarded bottle of sake you stole sips from. with all these pieces of you scattered across his dorm, it almost felt like a home. your smile is so contagious and sweet, he barely even minds when you step on his toes.

the long fabric of your shirt flares when he twirls you. your giggles fade into a yelp, fingers clinging onto his arm when he dips you down, and he could feel his heart throb against his ribs at the sight of you: your hair, fanned out beneath you, your big smile, failing to contain the sound of your laugh, and your dilated pupils looking up at him, trusting him not to let you fall. your grip doesn’t lessen when he pulls you up, even as he soothingly sways you back and forth. he holds you close, only pulling away to spin you, addicted to the way you beam at him when he does.

he’s ready to pout and whine when you let go, but all he can do is blink at you with big, wide eyes when you squeeze his hand, looking at him expectantly.

“it’s your turn, ‘samu,” you stand on your tiptoes, arm raised into the air, waiting for him to spin.

when you twirl him, the alcohol in his stomach churns, and he almost hopes he’ll be sick, just so he gets the chance for you to take care of him.

the warm glow of the sun slowly fades into the dim light of the moon as his twirls wane into soft sways. your laugh dies down into a peaceful smile, and the only noise remaining is the muffled nighttime traffic and his soft hums. in his tipsy haze, he feels as if the world has faded away to nothing but these four walls, and all that exists is you and him. your hands find their way behind his neck, tracing where his bandages overlap one another across his nape. he hopes his pounding heart isn’t too loud in your ear, with your face pressed against his chest.

“are you getting sleepy?” he cups the back of your head, urging you to look up at him.

“only a little,” he knows you’re lying; he’s spent enough nights with you to tell you’re exhausted. your words slur together at the ends, your pretty eyes are halfway open, and you’re clinging to him oh so gently, the same way you do when you’re asleep, not wanting him to drift away. “i just want to stay here a little longer. please?”

“you’re so precious,” he doesn’t know how to tell you there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than here, in the security of his dorm room, with his most important person safely tucked in his arms. he hopes you can tell anyway, and that a kiss is enough until he can find it in himself to verbalize his feelings. “you know i’d do anything for you, my darling.”

he nuzzles the side of your face, his lips grazing your temple. your head fits perfectly in the space between his jaw and his shoulder, and he fills with bliss when he catches whiffs of his own scent on you. he’s delighted at how you’re practically melting into his body as he keeps humming, drawing little circles and hearts through your shirt from where his hands rest on your back.

“i lied,” you whisper, and he lifts his head from yours, squeezing you in the form of a question. “i actually want to stay here forever.”

he never imagined he’d be capable of loving someone this much. he’s overwhelmed by it, and his mouth is on yours again before he realizes it, holding your face, exhaling hard through his nose when your lips slide into place against his own.

“me too,” his grin is genuine and rare, a secret between the two of you. his hands fall to your hips, sneaking beneath your shirt. he spreads his fingers, drinking in every inch of your bare skin he can possibly fit in his hands.

he drags his tongue along your lips, curling up in delight as you part them for him. he can still taste the sake when he licks into your mouth and traces your teeth. it’s something he’s done countless times before, but he still savors you, deliberately, as if it was the first. he whimpers, goosebumps raising beneath his second cotton skin when your hands bury themselves in his hair, cradling his head and scratching softly against his scalp. he kisses you until he can’t breathe, but he thinks it would be a nice way to go, being suffocated by you. his chest heaves when he pulls away, panting against you as his forehead rests on your own.

his hands wander to the edge of your ribcage as you guide him back to your mouth. you’re the one leading him this time, walking him back until his feet hit the soft edge of his futon, and he pulls you down with him.

he sneaks his leg between your own, smoothing his hand down your spine to hold you impossibly closer when you arch into him, and the way you moan against his mouth is stronger than any alcohol he’s ever drank. your shirt falls somewhere by your socks, button hitting against the empty, glass sake bottle when he tosses it somewhere behind him.

he’s certain you’ll both be exhausted when he’s through with you. for once, he couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow, as long as it was your soft grip and pretty face he was waking up to.

p.s.! ₊˚. ive been thinking ab this nonstop ever since i watched last weeks ep :( i poured sm love into this fic, so tysm for reading <3 !!

BSD MASTERLIST

#dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai fluff #dazai imagines #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #bsd fluff #bsd imagines #bsd x you #bsd scenarios #💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[sungbeam]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

gamer/streamer!choi beomgyu x f!reader

1.5k words, fluff/comfort, reader has hair long enough for a claw clip, strawberries, est. relationship au, the background info dump in the beginning was for my own entertainment tbh

Choi Beomgyu loved you.

Sometimes he wondered how you could possibly love someone like him—a loser who streamed League half the day away, lived in his pajamas, and dropped out of college to play video games for hundreds of thousands of people online. He barely went out of the house, unless it was to touch grass, but he had managed to snag your attention nonetheless.

He liked to joke that you were in it for his celebrity status. It was made all the more ironic, since you had no idea who he was when he'd first introduced himself to you in the self-checkout aisle of a grocery store, and you'd stared at him like he was high. Beomgyu, humbled to all hell, had stuttered out an apology and bowed about ninety degrees—then asked for your number like a normal person.

Ah, good times.

He'd then somehow mustered up enough swagger to date you for two years and counting. And now, you were moved in and got to hear him yell at a handful of computer monitors for twelve hours a day. (Love was funny, wasn't it?)

But if forever was the sweetest con, then dear god, he hoped he could pull this one off.

It was during one of his streams that he heard the front door slam from his office. He had just finished a round, and when he had heard the door but not your voice, he pushed back from his desk so he could lean back and give you a holler. "Yn! Yn-ie! Babyyyyy!"

He waited a beat.

A frown curled his mouth downward when he didn't hear your reply. Uh oh.

Tongue in cheek, Beomgyu used his feet to bring him back to his computer screen. His eyes flickered with the pace at which his chat flew past. "Hey chat, I need to check up on my girl. I'll be right back. Go get a snack or something."

With that, he dumped his headset onto the desk and raced out of the office.

He flew out into the main living space of the apartment, his eyes scanning the premises for you. With both of your incomes combined, the two of you managed to live comfortably in a nice apartment complex just north of the main city center. You both shared a bedroom and bathroom, while also getting separate, small office spaces. You used yours a lot less than he did his, but it was nice to have one in case.

Instead of your figure, he found your keys and shoes by the door, and a grocery bag on the island counter.

He backpedaled over to the bedroom next, head poking into the darkened room. His voice came out low, "Babe, you here?"

"Yeah," came your small response.

He tracked it to the bathroom, where you were hunched over your sink in the dark, your hair pulled back in a claw clip. Your face was damp like you had just washed it, but he didn't miss the way you were wiping at your eyes. Something sank in his chest, something heavy that made his body slump in dread.

"Sorry, I didn't wanna bother you," you said, forcing stability into your voice, even if it still shook a little.

You reached for your facial towel to hide your melancholy, but Beomgyu liked to think he paid more attention than you were giving him credit for.

He wrapped his arms around your middle from behind, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Hey, you're never a bother; you know that," he replied softly. "What's wrong, hm? How can I help?"

Your body shook with a sob as you cried into the towel. Beomgyu's chest clenched at the sound, at the feeling. God, he was right here, and yet, he felt so helpless, so useless. "It's nothing—I… I just… I'm just tired," you managed to say.

You sniffled, avoiding his eyes in the dark mirror as you set the towel aside and began washing your face again.

Beomgyu pursed his lips and sucked in a breath. "Yn-ie, you know I'm not just gonna let you go to sleep this upset, baby."

When you'd patted your face dry again, you were left with reddened, puffy eyes. You turned around to press your face into his warm chest. His arms looped around you like second nature to hold you to him.

Beomgyu gently smoothed a hand over the back of your head, letting the tension from the claw clip loosen the headache no doubt forming in your cranium. He clipped the accessory to his belt loop, quietly trying to calm your muffled cries. "Come on. Let's get some food into your stomach, okay? It'll make you feel better."

He led you out to the kitchen, helping you onto one of the bar stools while he rummaged through the grocery bag you brought home. His chest panged when he imagined you going through the grocery store while holding back tears. Had you cried there, or perhaps it had all come flooding out here?

There were a few things to add to the fridge, but he found a carton of big, red strawberries at the bottom of the bag. He released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in—you'd managed to get yourself something. Good. He was glad.

Usually in your shared household, you were the one to wash and cut and peel fruit for him. You fed him all the healthy things, kept him a normal functioning human being. You kept him sane.

So Beomgyu took the carton of strawberries out of the bag and transferred them to a colander to be washed. He then carefully sliced the stems off each berry, sliced them into halves, until the colander was empty and the bowl he had on the counter, filled.

He wiped his hands on the towel hanging below the sink, then brought the bowl of glistening red fruit before you.

"For you," he murmured, one warm palm pressed between your shoulder blades, his lips brushing a kiss to your hairline. "I'll be right back."

Beomgyu hurried back to the office to find his viewers waiting.

He braced his arm on the desk, forgoing sitting down in the chair. He swept a lock of his long hair out of his eyes as he skimmed some of the live comments in the chat. A huff of laughter, then a shake of his head. "You guys are so weird. I'm signing off for the night though—no, I don't owe you an explanation... Okay, it's my baby—yeah, yeah, I see you rampaging in the comments, Chenle."

Beomgyu wrinkled his nose playfully. "I'm not a fuckin' simp, you losers. At least I have a partner. Okay, whatever. Later, guys."

He turned off the stream with a tap of his mouse, and then he was back by your side. You seemed to have calmed down a little, but what lacked your sobbing came a sad, startling quiet. Quiet from you wasn't unusual per se, but this one felt empty.

Beomgyu stood behind your stool, one of his arms curling around your middle as he peered over your shoulder at the bowl. You'd eaten a few slices of the fruit while he was gone, but it wasn't as much as he had hoped you would have eaten.

He released a light exhale, reaching for a strawberry slice and popping it into his mouth. He leaned his head against yours. "Wanna snuggle?" He asked you quietly.

A small smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and he mentally high-fived himself. "Is that a yes?" He gasped with a childlike excitement. "You wanna snuggle with me?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice just yet, but that was okay. He heard you loud and clear.

You turned on the stool so you could wrap your limbs around his body.

Beomgyu cooed softly. "My sweet baby. I'm so sorry you have to feel this way." He kissed your head again, his arms shifting so he could hoist your body up and carry you over to the sofa with him.

He collapsed onto the sofa with a melodramatic grunt, then flopped backward so you were lying on top of his chest. He wondered, with your ear pressed against him, if you could hear just how much your proximity affected him. Even after all this time. If, maybe, you felt even a fraction of what he felt for you (just a fraction would make his heart soar). There was no way you didn't, right?

He wrapped both arms around you with a sigh. "I know you don't want to talk about it," he murmured, "just know it'll be alright. All of it. Even if it seems like the world is falling apart, even if you feel like a failure—you will get through this. I know you can; I know you will."

Your first words since earlier to him came at almost an inaudible volume. "And if I can't? What then?"

"Then I'll be here to help you," he answered. Yes, that was it. His breath was warm against your cheek, against your ear. "I'll always be here."

txt m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @hyunjaespresent-deobi @justanotherkpopstanlol @w3bqrl @super-btstrash-posts @hibernatinghamster @otchae @bigballsz @shakalakaboomboo @ashxxkook @kpop718 @ethereal-engene @soonyoungblr @wtfhyuck @kflixnet

#kflixnet #txt x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt drabble #txt oneshot #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #beomgyu drabbles #choi beomgyu drabble #choi beomgyu fluff #choi beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod Aftercare (Pt. 2)

Requested: Yes [I love your cod men being mean during sex! I was wondering if you can get a part 2 where they try to comfort them after but the reader is too hurt and kind of pushes them away?]

Warnings: Angst

A/N:

Ghost

Ghost is definitely upset when he tries to comfort you and you push him away, his hands raised, twitching with worry as he watches you curl in on yourself. He’d pushed you too hard, he knew it. Self hatred coiled in his belly, rising in his throat like icy vomit and making him shake. He didn’t know what to do so he just sat and watched, not making another move to touch you, unable to speak words of comfort, but just hoping his presence would suffice to help you feel better.

Soap

Soap is hurt when you pull yourself away from his touch, when you flinch when he raises his hand to touch your face. He feels awful, sick to his stomach as he retreats into himself, trying to make his body seem smaller for you as he asks you if you need anything, anything at all. You could ask for all the stars in the palm of your hand and he’d drag them down from the heavens to gift them to you if it would make you feel any sort of better. As it is though, he settles for trying to give you the tiniest bit of space but fails miserably and ends up hovering, wrapping you in a warm blanket, bringing you water and juice and foods that you like. Whatever he can think of to help as he internally beats himself for possibly ruining the best thing he ever had.

Alejandro

Alejandro looks over you worriedly as you shrink under his touch, murmuring softly to himself, something in Spanish. Finally, he speaks a bit louder, and you realize it’s a lullaby. He’s singing to you as he lays his head on the bed, hands just out of reach of your body, looking like a kicked dog. He doesn’t know how to fix his mistake, how to comfort you aside from this. So he’ll just patiently wait for you to tell him whatever you need. He promises he’ll make it up to you.

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #mwii #mw2 #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #Simon Riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #John MacTavish #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #Alejandro Vargas #alejandro vargas x reader

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part Thirteen

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: poorly timed erections, humiliation kink, cockwarming, you spit in his mouth, unprotected sex, unnecessary angst

Summary: I’m not super happy with this chapter. I wanted to go into detail with the Gom Jabbar scene but I couldn’t get any words out😂 so I skipped ahead to the smut part I wanted to write. Big things happening next chapter👀

The doors to the study burst open.

You look up from your spot nearby. Patience was not your strong suit, and you had grown bored while waiting for the Reverend Mother to administer the Gom Jabbar. Confusion flickers through you as you quickly assess the Reverend Mother's hastened steps.

"How did it go?" You ask, craning your neck to see into the study. Though you hardly thought Feyd would actually succumb to the test, it still worried you, and you feared you would see his body slumped on the floor.

"Never in my life," the Reverend Mother mutters. She stops in front of you. "The na-Baron is human, it seems, but not a man. Not like any that I've ever known."

You blink stupidly, her form retreating before you can even inquire about what she meant. She had been insistent that you weren't in the room with them and clearly she did not want to recall what you missed. She didn't even adhere to her usual courtesies of formal manners, scurrying away without even a backward glance.

Curiosity grows like a vine, winding up around you and inspiring you to creep into the study, unsure about what to expect. "Feyd?"

Your gaze sweeps the room. There's no jumble of limbs to suggest that he perished under the Gom Jabbar, which alleviates your fears slightly.

Finally you spot him, reclined in one of the plush chairs that had been pushed aside to make room for the assessment. Afternoon shadows cast him in a strange light, mostly hidden except for the faintest outline of his body.

"Feyd? What is she talking about?" You cross the room to him.

"That witch's test had...unexpected results."

"But you passed it?"

"Would I be here if I didn't?" He asks.

"No." You allow your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, so different from outside of the study where you had waited. "What —?"

The words die in your throat.

Feyd sits, infuriatingly regal, in the chair, legs spread wide and arms draped on either side of the curved back. You notice for the first time his very obvious erection, straining against his pants and sufficiently flushing you with a perverse mixture of desire and shame.

"Feyd-Rautha," you gasp out, baffled.

"She thought she could deter me with pain, but clearly she is not as intelligent as she believes."

You hiss back, "You are abhorrent."

"Perhaps." He inclines his chin. "Show me."

His words pull behind your navel, the familiar tugging answer to his call. An image of Feyd, poison needle to his neck, deriving pleasure from the box entrapping his hand, flashes through your mind. No wonder the Reverend Mother was so horrified. It brings the slightest of grins to your face, and a subsequent wave of affection for the twisted, beautiful man before you.

"Show you what?" You ask coyly.

His voice is silk, red wine, life's greatest pleasures gliding over your skin. "Just how abhorrent you find me."

You close the space between you. Feyd keeps his gaze trained on you as you insert yourself between his legs, leaning down to work the fasten of his pants. Cock liberated, it springs up, red and  pulsing. It invokes a low, savage growl from him when you pointedly ignore his hardened length in favor of your own wanton needs, gathering your skirts in one hand while dipping the other down to your cunt. His cock twitches in response.

"So abhorrent that I don't know if you deserve this pussy," you murmur to him. "You disgust me. Why would I even want to fuck you?"

Feyd's jaw clenches and he wraps his fist at the base of his cock. "Shit."

Emboldened, you keep the steady rhythm of your own self-pleasure, sneering at your husband.

"People have perished under the Gom Jabbar and yet it arouses you, the unspeakable pain enticing your cock. You should be ashamed of yourself." Feyd gasps out, stroking himself. There's a dark intensity in his eyes. You realize that he craves this from you, needs to hear you flay him with your tongue. "Look how hard you are. You're pathetic."

His head rolls back, exposing the pale column of his throat. Your fingers hitch and you inhale at the sight of him like this. Wound tight with want, you remove your hand and climb into his lap. Feyd is only too eager to accommodate you, pushing his hips up in an effort to drive his cock into you, hands grabbing for your waist.

"Don't touch me," you snarl at him, swatting him away. Feyd whimpers. "You think I want your hands on me after what you did?"

A keening sound splits the room as you slip the swollen head of his cock between your folds, a display of his frustration — you keep still, refusing to provide the friction that he is so desperate for. He fills you thoroughly, stretching you until you feel you might burst, and you have to fight the urge to roll your hips against his.

"Don't do this," he snarls at you.

"What? Punish you? You practically asked for it, dear husband."

You sit on his cock, unmoving. He stares back at you with contempt, fingers digging into the arms of the chair. When he looks at you like this, like you are some unobtainable treasure, you might as well be seated on a throne. And, you suppose, it is an honor to have him buried to the hilt in your cunt, this man who has searched for pleasure in others, in violence, and now clings to you like none of it compares.

"Please," Feyd breathes out.

"Don't talk to me," you snap, shifting your hips just the slightest bit. His eyes flash. "But since you're so eager to use your mouth."

You grab hold of his jaw, squeezing tightly as you pull him closer. Despite the roughness of your grasp, it might as well be a caress, Feyd's cock flinching in response.

"Open," you instruct him, though it doesn't matter. With force, you pry apart his lips and slip your thumb inside his mouth, pressing down on his tongue and holding him in place.

It's an intoxicating experience — his hardened member resting in your cunt, his face in your hand, the pleading in his eyes as he gazes up at you. Power was addictive. You thought yourself above it, once. But all it took was the right person to hold it over.

Spittle sprays his face as you spit in his mouth.

Feyd's throat bobs. If it's possible, you swear you feel him grow harder inside you. "Close, but don't swallow," you murmur to him, revoking your thumb. Feyd obeys. At this point he's trembling with want and frustration. You remove your grip on his jaw but he keeps it lofted in the air; with more fondness than you care, you wipe the spittle from his face, the pads of your fingers swiping over the bannister of his cheekbones, his eyelids.

Finally you whisper, "You disgust me." Leaning back on your heels, you indicate for him to swallow, which he does. A smile curves your mouth. "You should be fucking grateful that I pity you. Grovel. Tell me why you deserve this."

"I don't," Feyd gasps. "I don't. I don't."

"Is that all you know how to say?" You sneer at him.

He shakes his head, desperation crossing his features. "No. I—I don't deserve you but that's..." he trails off, the words sticking in his throat like he can't quite work them out, "that's exactly why I need you."

To express your approval, you grind your hips against him. Feyd whimpers. His admission pleases you, injects you with a fervency that lifts you up on his cock and then back down. Feyd's thighs clench beneath you as you persist with the movement, steadying yourself by reaching behind him and grabbing the chair, and expletives falling from his mouth as you do.

"That's right you fucking need me," you hiss to him. You quicken your pace.

In retrospect, you should've milked the moment for all it was worth, but Feyd was already on the edge and you weren't far behind; his eyes roll back in his head as he comes, and you clamp around him, seeking your own finish. His cock softens in you. You do your best not to let any cum escape from between your thighs, vaguely grateful that its consistency is thick and doesn't normally demand much cleanup.

Smoothing the wrinkles from your dress, you ask him, "Tell me you got it."

Eyes half-lidded, Feyd gestures to the side of the chair. The Gom Jabbar rests, glinting in the dim lighting. Your gaze cuts to him.

"You didn't ask," he says, reading your mind.

"You didn't tell me it was right there?" You bark at him, bewildered. "I could've —"

The corner of his mouth twitches. "I wouldn't have let you."

You hesitate, knowing that he's right. Anger drains from you then, replaced with curiosity, and you wait for him to tuck himself back into his pants. Feyd rises to his feet.

"She didn't notice?"

"She was...distracted," Feyd says.

"And you replaced it."

"Yes."

"Good." Your gaze roams his face. "I must say I’m relieved you’re alive.”

Feyd lets out a laugh, deep and rasping. “I never thought I would hear those words from you.”

“Hopefully you don’t think less of me for it.”

“Nothing could make me think less of you,” he murmurs, then grins. “Though I might send a physician to check you for fever.”

You can’t help but laugh at this and you gently push his chest. Feyd captures your hands there, though, holding you close to him. You jest, “You’re lucky that I love you.”

Feyd’s expression shutters. Horror yawns in you, an all-consuming mouth threatening to swallow you whole. Why did you say that?

“Feyd, I —”

He takes a step away from you, dropping your hands. Even though he’s only a few inches away, a chasm might as well have opened between you. Feyd grabs the Gom Jabbar. “This needs to be taken care of.”

He brushes past you and, paralyzed with panic and disbelief, you let him.

Hours turn into days, which turn into weeks. A month. The longest glimpse you have of your husband is in passing; conveniently, a smuggler operation was uncovered the day after the Gom Jabbar, which demanded the full attention of the na-Baron. Feyd immersed himself in dismantling the enterprise. You, on the other hand, were left to the simple task of “carrying out your duty” — which, to your best understanding, meant to conceive the Kwisatz Haderach — an impossible task considering your husband refused to look at you.

You spent most of your days in your parents’ study, rifling through whatever documents were salvageable from Rabban’s raid. Most of them were meaningless to you, stocks of supplies and financial reports. But at least they kept your mind from drifting.

You’re in the study when the door opens and Feyd-Rautha steps inside, as solemn and impassive as he’s been ever since that day. Seeing him like this, so close and without distractions, pierces you like a dagger. The worst part of this whole ordeal is the fact that you missed him.

You missed his unwavering confidence, the flow of your banter, the slightest changes in his expression that only time had revealed their meaning. And, infuriatingly, you missed the sex. Missed the sear of his hands on your body, his cock in your cunt. You prayed to whoever would listen that he couldn’t see this on your face.

It definitely wouldn’t help your case after telling him that you loved him.

“The smugglers have been neutralized,” Feyd says first, breaking the silence.

You dip your chin. “I assumed they would be.”

“To celebrate this feat the Baron has requested that we host a feast with our allies, and to showcase our new rule over Arrakis.”

“Ah,” you reply. You wanted this to happen as part of your plan, but you weren’t sure what it meant now that you weren’t on speaking terms. You pause, waiting for Feyd to offer some sort of hint, but he just continues his blank stare.

Even when you first met, when you swore that he was the most wretched creature to exist, he did not treat you like this. Like you were nothing.

Courage thrums through you like a second heartbeat. “And what will your uncle, our allies, think when the na-Baron won’t even spare a glance to his wife?”

“I don’t care what they think.”

“You used to care what I thought,” you whisper back to him. Your throat works. It’s the first time you’ve uttered what you’ve been thinking. “And now you won’t even look at me, which is a punishment unlike any I’ve known.”

If it’s possible, Feyd stills even more. There’s a flicker of something behind his eyes but it’s gone before you can name it, like the glint of a fish on the surface before disappearing into the depths.

He rasps, “You don’t understand.”

“No, Feyd, I don’t understand, because you’ve been fucking avoiding me,” you growl. “So why don’t you enlighten me?”

His jaw clenches. “This isn’t the time.”

“If it’s up to you, it will never be.” You stand and cross your arms. “Just tell me. Then we can fuck until you get me pregnant and we’ll never have to speak to each other again.”

Feyd just stares evenly at you. You think that he might never speak but when he does, his voice is so low you can barely hear it. “This isn’t…this isn’t because I don’t…reciprocate…your feelings.”

He chokes out each word. Still your heart flutters traitorously.

“If what you said is true, then I am a liability to you. I am not meant for…I just wanted to give you time to think,” he finishes awkwardly. “Love is a weakness. It’s messy. It complicates things.”

“If you haven’t noticed, everything about us is complicated,” you reply, laughing bitterly. You feel your features soften. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“You’re wrong to love me, jewel.” He steps towards you, and you realize that there’s a startling vulnerability to his face, nearly childlike in its sincerity. A boy pleading for the care that he never received. “I will only hurt you.”

A wistful smile tugs at your mouth. “You’ve hurt me many times already, and yet I’m still here.”

“You’re a fool.”

“I know.” This time you’re the one to inch closer, bridging the gap between you. You can hear Feyd’s breath hitch. “Don’t hide from me. I cannot bear it.”

Feyd nods, once, almost imperceptibly. “Fine.”

You can’t help it — you reach out and straighten his collar, graze your fingers over his skin. He inhales sharply and it’s in that moment that you realize his avoidant behavior has been just as punishing for him, a matter of self-preservation.

“I will tear off your balls and use them to store my jewelry if you ever do something like that again,” you tell him. Amusement crosses his face, on the tail of his obvious relief.

“Mm, careful, I’d risk anything if it meant you would touch me.”

Part 14

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @m-indkiller @kpopnstarwars @dacreshoney @stopeatread @the-na-baroness @therealslimshady-1 @unnisumi @aoi-targaryen

#feyd rautha #dune #feyd x reader #feyd x you #fanfic writing #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd smut #writers on tumblr #fanfic #writing #these destined ends

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Hi, could i request Alastor x reader where one of them does something nice/gives something to the other not realizing that in their culture it's equivalent of courting/proposing? And since the other is in love with them, they don't mention the connotations and it takes someone else to point it out for them to realize? :)

Going to be honest, I wasn't sure how to write this one, since I'm white and to my knowledge Alastor's a Creole man from 1930s, so I wasn't sure what from either of those cultures could be mistaken for a proposal. After doing some research I'm going to tweak this ask a bit, simply because I am not entirely comfortable representing other cultures that I am not a part of and only have a few hours worth of google research knowledge of. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted. If you or anyone has more specific traditions to use as examples, I'd be happy to try and expand on the idea.

(Or reinterpret this as like, flower language, gift giving symbolism by pagan standards, or crow language. Which not gonna liez my ADHD ass really wants to write a crow sinner giving them weird random stuff they find that they think the others would like.)

Anyway, I'm going to do things you'd do for each other that make you both wanna get married. Hope that's ok!

Alastor

It's not so much a single thing you do, but more like there is a single moment where he realizes he wants to marry you. And to be clear, his idea of marriage is going to be based off of what he grew up with and his own personal level of comfort with romance and intimacy (remember folks, aromantics have a spectrum as well and can get married and have perfectly happy, functional, healthy relationships and marriages).

It's probably not even a big grand gesture or anything. It's more likely something domestic and really sweet. Like it's post the finale fight with Adam, and he already knows he's getting attached because he let you help him get patched up. He lets you in his room, his space, and being touched by you is as easy and comfortable as it is with Rosie and Niffty, who have pretty much a free pass whenever.

Yet you're still always so respectful of his boundaries, of giving him subtle ways to avoid or redirect your touch if he's not feeling up to it. You never push, chosing to take what levels of affection he's willing to express but always letting him know you love him, and this last small thing is the thing that makes it click in his brain.

You bring him his coat, newly patched, cleaned of any trace of blood. The stitching is a little sloppy, crooked, and the fabric isn't lined up as well as it used to be, but you tried. He can see the effort and knows you spent hours holed up in your room after patching him up.

"I know it's not perfect, but it'll hold until you feel well enough to visit your tailor again." You say timidly, as if you expected rejection or critique. And while criticism wouldn't be unwarranted, he's just too emotional to say anything. His smile is gentle, a little wobbly, and he reaches out and brushes the coat aside to grab hold of you and pull you into a hug.

You're just so sweet and considerate, you understand him. He's not going to change, he doesn't want redemption, he thrives off the bloodshed and chaos of hell, but at the same time he's still just a man. And he wants you to be by his side for eternity, if he you want that too. He's never thought of marriage before but now...now he can't stop. He wants to have that with you. Domestic life, something to come home to.

He won't say anything right away, he wants his proposal to be perfect. He's going to have Rosie help him plan this every step of the way, but regardless, one day, you will be his partner.

As for what your moment with Alastor is, I think it entirely depends on what you value most in a partner. However, a general consensus I've seen in most of the fanfics and tumblr posts is the idea of Alastor showing us a softer side.

Not just showing us that he's more than a serial killer and cannibal with his own sense of morality. More than just feeling comfortable enough to let us initiate touch, hut genuinely letting us see past the Radio Demon persona.

Maybe it's by cooking for us and talking about how he learned the recipe from his Mama, which leads into him slowly opening up about her, how much he adored her. What she meant to him.

Maybe it's him and you at the bar in the hotel or in his room, sipping drinks, his jacket off, sleeves rolles up. Letting himself be casual and in a compromised state around you. Maybe he'll even take your hand and spin you across the dance floor like he used to with Mimzy. He doesn't even care if you're not that good, he can teach you, practice makes perfect, he just has fun with you.

Maybe it's a moment where he let's you touch him. Or seeks you out for help because he knows you won't say anything. Or if he humors you and flirts back when you tease him. Or let's say he has a tail and he doesn't snap your head off for accidentally touching it as you go by. Or he agrees to watch a movie with you or listen to a podcast despite how he feels about technology.

Maybe it's just a quiet night, sitting next to each other, each reading a book, his radio playing softly for background noise, and you look up to him to ask a question or say something and he's already watching you, a small, adoring smile on his face.

Take your pick of which one is the moment where your heart stops, your breath catches, and you realize that you wanna marry this man.

And then your delulu ass wakes up, lol.

Decide for yourself if you'd go through with a proposal or if you just accept how things are.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #sorry this isn't what you asked for #it's the best I could do

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka // Female Reader

Summary: Jake's time off is driving you crazy. You still have to work from home and he's demanding your attention. During an important phone call, he decides to take matters into his own hands. And mouth.

A/N: Enjoy this smutty little blurb I've been rolling around in my mouth for a few weeks. It's slightly self indulgent. But certainly a little something I felt needed to be shared.

Warnings: Oral sex f. Fingering. Edging. Dirty talk. Deprivation.

He was bored. Lingering in the space where you'd tried to close the door and he'd caught it, a look of boyish indignation on his face that let you know he wasn't about to let you get any work done.

"If the shoe was on the other foot..." You sighed. "And I disturbed you like this in the studio, you'd be furious."

There wasn't any desire to reject his playful insistence that you pay him some attention. There was nothing more that you wanted than to close your inbox and switch your phone off. To go downstairs with him and get settled on the couch with a glass of wine and let him delicately work his way up your body as you tried to watch a movie.

But deadlines were sat there, making your heart sink and your patience wear ever increasingly more thin. Never more so than when your love was home. His guitar case closed, the need to satisfy weeks of salacious messages exchanged from the tour bus and hotel rooms.

"Furiously turned on." He replied, flashing you a grin that sent flutters down from your stomach into the ebb of your aching core.

"Jake." You moaned, "Go and find something else to do."

You knew he wouldn't. You knew he would continue to watch you type out irrelevant e-mails and feel the mounting arousal in his gaze as you simmered under a barely there thong and t-shirt. Inappropriate to wear in an office, but a sight for sore eyes as you sat at the little desk in the corner of the house.

"There's nothing else I want to do in this house, than you." He complained, adorning the most rage inducing pout you'd ever seen.

You considered setting aside your tasks. To let him fawn over you a little while. Let him have a taste of everything he had missed, just enough to slake his need. To make him less deprived. There was mischief in his eyes and you could never squander the opportunity to see what his boredom could conjure.

"Give me five minutes." You gave in, rolling your eyes playfully but knowing his triumph would bring you to a valiant end.

He tilted his chin. Let the corners of his mouth turn upward. Smug. Like you'd put up a genuine fight. Basking in the glory of his defeat of your intention to continue working. And you would have let him have it, were it not for the tiny little name flashing up on your screen moments later.

Your boss. A name which never usually invoked much of a reaction, but as your attention began to wander it felt as if you could have slipped your phone underneath the pile of paperwork you were yet to complete and simply ignore it.

Jake watched closely to see what you would do. Shaking his head slowly as you swiped your thumb across the screen and mouthed a pathetic 'sorry' as you took the call.

That was your first mistake. To think that he would simply honour your decision to derail his mounting desire. The second was to think that he wouldn't continue in his quest to pull you away from your work load.

"I'm looking at that file right now." You said, spinning your chair around to face the computer, Jake's reflection sitting behind the ceaseless words and numbers you needed to make sense of. "No, there doesn't appear to be any anomalies. But I can double check the numbers for you and get them back to you in the next hour."

No sooner had you made that promise, you felt your chair being spun back around. Jake, on his knees, a serious expression etched on his face as he silently pleaded with you to let him have his way.

"Yes, of course." You continued, holding the phone to your ear whilst widening your eyes. "If all the files need checking I can oversee that for you."

You let your boss speak about numbers and figures. Checking and double checking files. The monotonous drone of their voice fading away as you felt the lace edge of your thong slide down your thighs. Jake, without any regard for what your boss might hear, spread your legs and licked his lips at the sight of it.

"Yes, I'm still here." You tried to focus, almost audibly moaning at the sensation of his hands moving your thighs apart. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

He was evil for this. The daring glint in his eye as he looked up at you. The sensation of his hair as it brushed against your inner thigh. All the ways in which he brought you back to him, even as you tried to keep your focus elsewhere. He knew the battle for your attention was one that he would always win, but he enjoyed the fight. And you were powerless to stop him. Resolve dissolving as you gripped the phone a little tighter.

You let him lean you back into the arms of the office chair. Raising your knees, letting them fall open as he sank into the gravitational pull of your throbbing pussy.

"Mmmm'hmmm." You hummed, perhaps in agreeance with something your boss said, but mostly at the brush of Jake's tongue as it swept across your outer lips.

The fragility of your voice was going to be the thing which gave you away. The gentle laps of his mouth as it licked the length of your slit, causing you to arch your spine where you sat, would be your undoing.

"Of course." You carried on, trying to keep your voice steady. "I think those were the files I sent over to you last week... Yes, in the blue...folder."

You caught a look of pure unadulterated satisfaction in the way he almost made you unravel. Using two calloused finger tips to open you up even wider. Holding your pussy lips apart, he set his mouth against your swollen clit. Padding the flat of his tongue against it, causing the nerves to awaken and send a flood of arousal to every muscle and sinew in your body. All your joints became loose, and you almost dropped the phone.

"I'll have to draft up some templates." You felt ridiculous, speaking of such ordinary things whilst you were being subjected to a depraved act of sexual rebellion.

He was practically drinking from you as he pressed his nose up against your mound. Letting his mouth take all of you in. Sucking in your lips so that his tongue could reach your entrance. Feeling the sudden rush of blood to your head as his tongue ventured inside.

Your head fell back as he probed you with it. The all consuming need to take a fist of his hair and moan at the way he took you there like that had you tempted to hang up.

"No, I can get that done for you by Friday." You assured, inwardly begging and pleading for the conversation to end.

When he came up to catch his breath, you were smothered across the lower half of his face. Mouth and chin saturated in pussy juice as he ran a palm over the whisks of facial hair that glistened. He stared at you with half closed lids, like he was lost to his arousal and didn't see the phone in your hand anymore.

"Keep talking, baby." He whispered, gathering your t-shirt in a closed fist, pulling you towards his sticky mouth.

There was no doubt in your mind that the kiss would travel down the airwaves. The sound your throat made as his mouth made contact. The uncontrollable whimper that was breathy and almost silent, but not quite. The sound of his tongue as it travelled against yours, the taste of what he'd swallowed now in your mouth as you tried to hold yourself steady against the ramblings going on at the other end of the receiver.

And then the inevitable question came. Is everything alright over there? As if you could tear yourself away from his sweet breath. You kept your tongue in his mouth far longer than you'd anticipated. And when the response came, it was almost met with suspicion.

"Yes." You replied swiftly, feeling foolish for being so reckless. "Everything's fine. My apologies, what was it you were saying about the new deadline?"

He almost fell to laughter. Seeing the crimson in your cheeks and the heavy flush in the flesh at your throat. Positively wrecked by his assault. And nowhere near to being done with it.

The blurred lines between decency were ruined. All you could do was submit. Your chest heaving in shallow breaths as he lingered at your mouth with his parted slightly. Not kissing, but savouring the way your lips were a little swollen from the pressure of his mouth against them.

"Mute them." He instructed, "They don't want to hear this."

You swallowed thickly. Swiping over the little mic icon until it was crossed out. Your boss carried on talking, little musings that required no response but information you no doubt needed in order to get the next lot of projects done.

"Whatever it is you're planning on doing, do it quickly." You urged, letting him slide the phone out of your hand and place it screen down on the pile of unfinished paperwork.

"Hold on tight." He said, causing you to grip the arms of the chair in trepidation.

Pushing the hem of your t-shirt up, he exposed your breasts and rose on his knees to meet them. His body pressed up against you, warm and tender. He wasted no time in taking what he wanted. Sucking your nipple violently into his mouth as he penetrated you with two of the most delicious fingers.

And then you knew why he'd wanted that conversation muted. The sound of your wetness pounding against his knuckles was utterly pornographic. Teeth bore down into your flesh as you threw your head back and you began panting wildly at the way he punched into you. Flecks of pussy juice flicked onto your thighs, spreading up his forearm as he fucked into you with his hand.

Your entire body was shaking with the onslaught. The chair practically ready to fall back as he curled his fingers inside you and applied the most delicious pressure on those places he loved to tease the most. You couldn't breathe. Your legs felt entirely weak. Your senses heightened.

"Taking phone calls when you've promised to fuck me." He admonished, bringing his mouth to your ear as your breasts bounced against his chest. "I'm gonna teach you never to make promises like that, baby."

You loved how he made you a sloppy mess. Looking into your eyes as he vigorously forced his fingers inside you as far as they would go. Watching your brow furrow and your jaw go slack, nose wrinkled in a look of absolute hedonistic pleasure. If this was a punishment, it didn't feel much like one.

"I'm gonna lose my job, baby..." You whimpered, letting him slow to a steady pace, his fingers sliding in and out as your pussy lips pulled against saturated knuckles. "I really....fuck...I have to get back to this call..."

You could see how worked up he was. A little edge of disappointment as you picked your phone back up, your boss still prattling on as if you'd been listening the entire time. You kept eye contact with him, listening to the way your pussy sounded now that he'd ruined it.

"That all sounds fine." You interjected, "I should probably go and get a head start on all of this."

Jakes thumb was rolling around your clit. Pulling back the hood, pressing down on it like it was a big red button that shouldn't be pressed. Begging to be detonated. Your breath still lingering on errant moans you didn't dare express.

"Yes..." You could feel his intention rise. "Yes, that all sounds do-able."

You needed to let go. To feel the fissures of your orgasm that was building more clearly. He'd call it legendary, the way he'd made you let him play with you while on this seemingly important interaction. He'd talk about it again and again when he wanted to remind you that you were his.

You were about to speak when his mouth returned to you. Sucking on your tongue as if to rob you of all the words you were meant to say. You could hear your boss on the other end of the phone, waiting for your response, one that you simply couldn't make whilst letting Jake wrap his lips around you. All you could do was gently murmur until he had his fill.

"Anything you need." You said breathlessly, to your boss...to Jake. "I'm gonna go ahead and make a start on those files for you, ok?"

He slapped your pussy with the back of his hand as you came off the call. Causing you to squeal, a high pitched whine of delight.

"Oh, no..." He shook his head. "You think just because you hung up that you get to cum now, is that it?"

You would have begged. But it would have been futile.

"Stand up." He ordered, bringing you to your feet. "Palms on the desk."

The torturous beat of his ministrations continued. Thighs parted as you leaned against the array of work left undone. He fell to his knees again and licked endless stripes up from your pussy into the valley of your ass. Pressing his mouth into the moisture there. Making your begs come out in painful moans. Not in words, but in restrained little moans that did nothing to help your cause.

"You ready for my cock?" He asked, sliding a solitary fingertip down the path of where his tongue had been.

The way your head moved up and down, humming your need as the word yes spilled out... you felt the incomparable rage of your phone vibrating again.

.

.

.

@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon y @char289 @dancingcarbon @gvfpal @violetstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @jazzyfigz @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #fanfic #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader

[jasonsmirrorball]

OCTOBER 14: IN DREAMS I FIND YOU JASON TODD

kinktober prompt: somnophilia | kinktober masterlist

synopsis. jason returns home from patrol. what's a man to do when you're lying there so pretty? you'll let him make you feel good, won't you, baby?

cw: f!reader, slight dubcon, brief dry humping, cunnilingus, praise minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact

Jason enters the apartment a little after three in the morning. You’ve left the light above the stove on for him, and where the sight would usually bring some comfort, there’s an itch under his skin that takes precedence. His gear is heavier tonight, clicking as he storms through the living space. 

He finds you in the bedroom. The sight of you curled up eases some of the burn in his chest but it’s soon stoked once more, green haze clouding the corners of his vision as his gaze traces your sleeping form. 

The lavender cotton of your sleep shorts flutters in the moonlight–how many times has he told you to close that damned window when you go to bed? In the morning, he’ll have to remind you about it. Right now. Jason is more concerned with the expanse of skin your attire bares to his eyes, drinking in the sight of your legs, the slouch of your tank top across your shoulders, material riding up as you twist yourself around his pillow. Even from the doorway, he can see the sliver of your stomach, the press of your nipples against your top. 

You let out a murmur in your sleep and his breath catches, familiarity leaving him tuned in to your every noise and movement. His cock throbs beneath his clothes. He’s dying for it. He wants nothing more than to cross the room in two short strides and drop to his knees, to pull those damn shorts down and press his nose between your legs and–

He has more self control than that. Slowly, methodically, he removes his gear, utility belt set on the floor of the wardrobe where he’ll more than likely forget about it until he wakes the next afternoon and stubs his toe. The blood on the hem of his pants is a problem for later, too–you’ve rolled over onto your stomach and his jaw tightens at the sight.

So pretty, and splayed out as if in offering for him. He’d be a fool not to appreciate you. 

It’s been a long night. Jason has spent the most of it in and out of buildings he has no business being near, casing out warehouses and drilling understanding into the denizens of Gotham’s back alleys that when he gave an order, they were to follow it to the letter. He has little taste for the stupidity of the crime lords, of the drug lords who strive to test his patience. He bears it better, usually, but tonight his self control runs thin, and all the violence has left him wanting to whet his appetite with something else.

He stalks forward, feet heavy against the hardwood, pressing a knee into the mattress and leaning over until he’s got you caged beneath him, nose pressed to your neck. He can smell the lingering scent of your shampoo, and when his tongue darts forward from between his lips, he can taste the barest hints of salt on your skin. Summer leaves you warm, always throwing the covers aside when you get too hot, and Jason finds himself grateful for it when his hands paw at the flimsy fabric of your sleeping clothes–thin, stretchy material that leaves little to the imagination.

He should feel lecherous, slipping a hand beneath your stomach to grope at the softness of your breasts, dragging his mouth along the curve of your shoulder and letting his teeth graze your skin. But he can’t find it in himself, not when you press back against him so sweetly, seeking him out even in your dreams. When you shiver, he lets out a hoarse laugh.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “‘M home. Missed you so bad, sweetheart, can you feel it?”

He pushes his hips against your ass, rocking ever so slightly into you and groaning when you shift, letting out a sleepy sigh.

“Thought of you all night,” he mumbles. “Wish I could’ve just stayed with you–I kept thinkin’ about this afternoon, wanted to tell everyone t’go home so I could get back to my girl…make you scream so loud, baby.”

He thinks of you, ribboned in afternoon sun, head thrown back. The image of you had refused to leave his mind, sun warmed and bare and all fucking his. Your pretty little moans ringing in his ears as he’d gritted orders through his teeth. He’d felt the bite of of your nails in his back with every step he took, clothes scraping against the marks you’d left on him. 

A puff of air escapes your lips and you sink further into the mattress. Jason leaves a litter of kisses across your shoulder and neck, shuffling until he’s kneeled between your legs, nosing at your thighs.

“Shit, baby,” he rasps, a whimper caught in his throat. “Promise I’ll be good, ‘m gonna make you feel so good, doll–need you so fuckin’ bad…”

He maneuvers you onto your back, shorts coming off in a single tug before he’s pressing his mouth to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, just a few inches south of where he intends to be. He laves at the skin, no care for form tonight, drunk on the scent of you through the cotton panties you’ve worn to bed tonight. 

You stir, and Jason grins into your thigh when he sees your lashes beginning to flutter, lips drawing into a confused pout when he trails a finger over the seam of your panties, ghosting over where your heat seeps through. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he chuckles, nosing at the crease of your thigh. His other hand grips your thigh, pulling it up and over his shoulder. “Gonna let me make you feel good?”

“Jason…” you whisper, voice cracking with sleep. He can see your eyes are still clouded over, and you whimper when he bites–only gently, he’d never want to hurt you. 

(Not unless you asked him to, but that’s by the by)

“My pretty baby,” he murmurs huskily, licking the spot better, tongue flicking over the indentation of his teeth. The sight of it only stokes the growing need under his skin, and he’s flicking his eyes up to you. “Need to taste you so bad, angel.”

Your fingers sink into his hair and he grins, not bothering with removing your panties, simply tugging them to the side before pressing the flat of his tongue against your pussy. He revels in the lurch of your back, pain sparking at his scalp where your grip on his hair tightens but it only shoots straight to his cock and he finds himself bucking against the mattress in an effort to relieve the strain. 

“Baby, I–” you gasp, and he groans, gripping your thigh tighter. He feels like a fucking animal, slobbering all over you with no method or ceremony, tongue tracing patterns around your clit as you cry out.

He feasts himself on you, spit mixing with your slick as you writhe under his tongue, sleepy moans tumbling from your lips as you roll your hips upward. He’s in no better shape, steadily approaching his high from how pent up he’s been all evening, every single sound you make shooting straight to his cock. But he’s determined to please you first, lips closing around your clit and meeting your half lidded eyes as he sucks hard. 

You fall apart in seconds, voice pitching and back arching over him. He thinks it’s glorious to behold. Your face crumples and twists, and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. He follows not long after, spilling into his briefs as he tongue fucks you through your orgasm. 

In the aftermath, you cradle his head in your palms and he follows your touch, rising and becoming distinctly aware of the stickiness in his underwear but you pull him in for a kiss and he files it away for later. He clings to you, slumping against you when you let him go, with his head pressed to your stomach. Your hand finds its way to his hair once more, nails scraping against his scalp in recurring movements that make his eyelids flutter. 

this concept has been plaguing me since mid september and all the way through my midterm assignments. i sat down every single day to get work done and i was like...jason...coming home from patrol to love on you...anyway. this isn't as long as the first kinktober fic but that i hope u enjoyed this regardless. may we all have our vigilante anti hero boyfriends return home to us after patrol, eager to please and needy for us!

#banner by shoujo-dreamland #mdni banner by benkeibear #jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #ro's kinktober '23 #kinktober 2023 #jasonsmirrorball #jay my heart