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365runesoftheamalgamations · 2 years

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100 Great Drabble Experiment pt.8

here we are once again, with more drabbles from today's asks! :D

October 26, 2022 | Three Asks Answered | Drabbles 29 - 31

cw: sore, fall, pinned, strangling, torture, bone breaking, vague bodily mutilation, mentioned beating and abuse

Prompt 29 | Fall(ing) | 100 Word Drabble

The Traitor is touched with Blight. The Villain can see it from the blackened hands to the cloudy sadistic tendencies she is falling into more and more. He almost feels sorry for her; the Corruption that awaited Humanity only holds one destination. The sympathy erases when she grabs him and continues. He screams as she abuses his body, holds onto his willpower even as her Blight tries to bleed into him. He couldn’t afford corruption; he wouldn’t fall like her. He drags air, grinds his teeth as he turns to her with defiance. “You won’t win.” She beats him more.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Prompt 30 | Sore | 100 Word Drabble

The Hero is a sore subject for the Traitor. It only takes mentioning her, and the Traitor gives him broken bones for the comment. It is laughable, how much hate she holds for the Hero. If the Villain didn’t know better, he would’ve tried to use that hate to entice her. But that isn’t an option; the Traitor’s unhinged and chaotic, the Villain noting how she reeks of Blight. She is too close to Corruption; too far from Salvation. “You won’t make it.” He regrets the thought instantly. She stares him and he notes the chaos before she breaks him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Prompt 31 | Pinned(ing) | 100 Word Drabble

He wakes up without air. He jerks, tries to move, tries to breathe, but the pressure around his throat is steady and there’s weight pinning him down. He writhes against the hold, everything blurring into darkness and static. And then the pressure is off, pain slicing into his neck as his attacker is dragged away from him. His chokes, lungs taking in oxygen without cooperation. He chokes as his body instantly moves, throwing him away and curling hard as he tries to breathe. It is almost too long, but he does breathe, body going limp as he drinks in air.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Masterlist | Part 7 | Part 9?

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#100 drabble challenge #whump edition #the great motivation experiment #the 100 great drabble experiment #writings #writing snippet #writingcommunity #writerscommunity #content warnings #sore #fall #pinned #strangling #torture #bone breaking #vague bodily mutilation #mentioned beating and abuse #rune ⊹ writings

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isamajor · 1 year

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100 Drabble Challenge: Whump Edition [prompts 26 to 30]

Another batch of drabbles from @whumpster-dumpster ‘s 100 Drabble Challenge: Whump Edition with Skyrim’s custom followers (mostly Lucien Flavius, I can fit so much whump in this nice lad, I’m sorry M. Joseph Russell...)

26. Distrust

When they arrived at Winterhold, cold stares greeted them at the Frozen Hearth inn. The city now was nothing more than a heap of ruins, half-collapsed in the Sea of Ghosts. Only the famous Academy of magic seemed intact and majestic. When Lucien politely asked how to access it, the looks turned hateful. People spat on the ground at their feet. The mages had lost the people's trust in Skyrim. Between the Oblivion Crisis, the collapse of the city of Winterhold, and the rise of Altmer supremacism, the Nords had now plenty of reason to hate magic. (99)

27. Ensnare

The problem with venturing into not very reputable places with people much more experienced than you, is that them, they were used to spotting and avoiding traps.

Lucien yelped in pain. He had stepped straight into a bear trap and now his calf was trapped between two strong iron jaws. He had wanted to avoid the bone garland that served as an alarm, and hadn't seen the metal trap stretched under his foot. And with his scream, obviously all the bandits would be aware of their presence, come for them, and try to murder them... (96)

28. Bindfold

His curiosity had been the strongest. Stronger than knowing the dangers of laying eyes on an Elder Scroll without the usual training and preparations of Moth Priests. But the thirst for knowledge was as much Lucien's greatest quality as his greatest flaw. When he rolled up the parchment after staring at it for a few long seconds, his gaze was blank, his pupils dilated. He felt sight leaving him. The Imperial tied a piece of cloth around his eyes in a blindfold to keep them out of the light, hoping that this blindness would be reversible... (97)

29. Sore

He was unaccustomed to the harsh, cold life of the Nords. Neither to hunger, thirst, nor to forced marches until they find good shelter. Having to fight for this shelter. To fight with the intention of dearly saving his skin, despite the protectors he had at his side. Lucien wasn't used to the pain every night in his aching muscles. To the bruises that marked his sides after a bad shield blow. He was crippled with small pains, of course, but the adventure and all that he discovered day after day pushed him to continue every day, despite feeling sore all over. (103)

30. Fall

It had been indicated that Auriel's Bow was in this cave. There was now only a wretched bridge of ropes and planks in front of them overhanging a chasm where a large torrent roared below. They had to move forward, one by one, calmly and cautiously. Inevitably, the threadbare old ropes gave way, and the Dragonborn fell into the rushing ravine with a cry of surprise. And on the other side of the bridge, the exit turned out to be a dead end. They had no alternative but to jump into this abyss and hope for a happy ending. (100)

#100 drabble challenge #skyrim #skyrim custom followers #skyrim modded followers #Lucien Flavius #whump #bear trap #fall #blindness #yeah i know i modified the outcome of lucien peeking at the elder scroll #but i think a temporary blindness would be normal when you look at the elder scroll

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willowbelle · 3 months

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"Please, Harder!" Headcanons

ꕥMonster Trio + Ace & Lawꕥ

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, fem afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

a few drabbles for how the monster trio + ace & law respond to you asking them to fuck you harder! (>ᴗ•) !

cw: fem afab!reader, piv sex, spanking, praise, choking, rough sex, positions (in order): mating press, doggy style, cowgirl, wall sex, prone bone.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

"Please, Harder!" Headcanons

ꕥMonster Trio + Ace & Lawꕥ

Luffy:

Luffy seldom falters in his incessant pace; he revels in his ability to fuck you like an animal in heat; harder and faster than anything you’ve ever experienced. He's captivated by the sounds emanating from your throat, and the knowledge that he's the one eliciting such responses makes it even more enticing. He diligently strives to uncover a wide array of your vocalizations, collecting them, almost.

On this occasion in particular, he’s got you on your back, legs dangling over his toned shoulders as he holds you down by your waist, pounding his length into your needy cunt while you scream and whine for him.

A new noise erupts from your heaving chest, one that Luffy’s never heard before; a plea,

“Please, Luffy, harder!”

The foreign sentence prompts his ears to perk up, momentarily causing his pace to falter. He looks down at you, his eyes widening as he carefully studies your face to confirm he heard you correctly.

Suddenly, a smile tugs at his lips, and he bursts into hearty laughter,

“You want me to fuck you harder?” he giggles, but his tone is tinted with a bit of playful arrogance, “Sure! If you think you can handle it!”

Seeing your desperation as a challenge, the captain accepts eagerly, aiming to prove himself. He grounds his knees harder into the mattress and pulls his hips back before thrusting in abruptly, making you cry out as the tip of his cock batters your sweet spot.

"That's a new one!" he chuckles, the unfamiliar sound igniting a flame within him that courses through his veins and singes his blood, filling him with an exhilaration beyond compare.

Determined to hear the special noise again, he commences with his unruly pace, making your screams rise in pitch.

The grip he has on your waist tightens as he continues pounding you, the sounds of your sloppy cunt accepting his cock over and over again causing elation to flood his skull,

“This hard enough for ya, baby?"

Zoro:

Zoro is a relentless force, driven by an insatiable desire to prove himself; strength and sexual abilities alike.

He refuses to settle for anything less than excellence, especially in the bedroom. He’s in constant pursuit of validation, hellbent on getting you to scream his name only seconds in.

Zoro’s got you on your hands and knees, treating your insides with brutal thrusts as he kneels behind you; thick, strong fingers bruising the plush flesh of your hips as he grasps them tightly.

His grip is like a vise, unyielding and firm, your screams falling on deaf ears as he rails you mercilessly. He always aims to assert his dominance, his presence, and when your needy request makes its way to him, to say he’s surprised is an understatement.

“Please, Zoro, harder!”

He’s still holding you, with unwavering resolve, but his harsh pace as slowed, just barely, so he can hear you over the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together.

“Say that again.”

And you do, making the large man behind you let out an amused tsk.

He promptly obliges, but not because you’re in charge; oh no, he’s fueled by a fierce resolve to make you rue the moment you questioned his abilities.

The swordsman’s grip tightens on your hips as he immediately begins thrusting harder, so intensely it makes stars erupt beneath your eyelids.

He’s groaning behind you, planting harsh smacks to your ass as he proceeds, obsessed with the way your cunt sucks in his cock so greedily.

Your mouth hangs slack and screams escape from it as he pounds you.

You’re a weak, trembling mess, causing the green-haired man to smirk as he leans down to rasp in your ear,

“Careful what you ask for.”

Sanji:

Sanji would move mountains for you, sacrifice everything to grant you joy. He’s entrapped by you and your presence; and it transforms him into a devoted disciple, eager to fulfill your every waking need. He hangs onto every word you say, treasuring each syllable as though you’re a deity among mortals.

He’s always been a gentle lover; petrified of hurting you, of damaging that precious body of yours that he worships so obsessively.

His adoration transcends mere admiration; he’s a devotee, obsessed with pleasing you with his gifted hands and gentle, strategic hips.

You’re on top tonight, grinding up and down on his length. You’re desperate for more, though, greedily moving your hips in a tight circle as you move up and down.

He’s quick to notice; promptly reaching up to hold your waist and aid you in your efforts, lifting his hips to thrust up into you slowly, carefully.

You whine at the pleasant sensation; it's welcomed, but it’s not enough.

“Please, Sanji, harder!”

Although he’s a bit taken aback by your sudden request, he doesn’t stop to think, he just obeys. Sanji presses his heels into the mattress to use his strong, lean legs to aid him in pounding into you from below, groaning as he looks up at you longingly.

“As you wish, beautiful.”

You’re panting, crying out for him as he fucks you harder than ever before; the pace is uncharacteristic but seemingly natural for the gentle cook.

The sight of your face contorted in pleasure makes the coil tighten in his lower stomach, his thrusts are becoming sloppy but remain brutal as he desperately leads you towards your orgasm,

“Sure you can take it, my love?”

Ace:

Ace is an enigma; a determined, goal-oriented man, but a kind, compassionate one, nonetheless.

He regularly tightropes the fine line between rearranging your guts and making sweet, gentle love to you.

His ambition is unwavering, but his heart remains soft and tender as he strives you make you shake and whine beneath him. He wants to stuff your brain full of nothing but lustful visions of the two of you; the juxtaposition of him fucking you roughly while he caresses and kisses your cheek.

He’ll usually start gently, kindly; moving his hips carefully, softly moving his lengthy cock in and out of you.

However, any little whine, squirm, or plea from you can flip the switch inside Ace; ignite the flame within him that singes his skin and plunges him into the unruly parts of himself. In an instant, he’ll be pounding you relentlessly, pace remaining brutal and firm as he makes you scream and pick your brain to find the moment he shifted.

Tonight is no different as Ace has you pressed against the wall, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he holds you up, gently thrusting in and out of your tight cunt.

You’re digging your nails down his freckled back, prying at his skin, praying that your touches alone are enough to signal that you’re desperate for more.

He persists like he has been, however, softly and gently, placing sweet kisses to your neck and chest.

You’re a whining mess, desire pricking at your goosebump-riddled skin as you nip at his collarbone, silently begging him to fuck you harder.

He’s stubborn, clearly, his pace remaining steady as he groans into your ear.

A plea tickles at your throat but you don’t attempt to stop it, instead, you allow the cry to bubble over and meet Ace’s ear,

“Please, Ace, harder!”

And there it was, the switch flipping; the very moment when kind, gentle Ace retreats, and rough, wild Ace emerges.

His grip on your hips tightens and he presses you into the wall harder, reaching up to firmly grasp your throat,

“Oh, yeah?” he growls, bringing his hips back to pound into you harshly, earning a weak cry from your slack jaw.

His pace is immediately overwhelming; you can feel his thick cock in your stomach as he stuffs you full, his blunt tip bullying your cervix with each pass, making you cry out rhythmically.

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, pretty girl.”

Law:

Law navigates the world with a keen eye and a steady hand; and these traits always remain true, even in the bedroom.

He’s a meticulous, observant man; and although he may seem dull, he never misses a beat.

He opts for studying your body; your noises, your movements, in order to please you in the ways you need, not just the ways you want.

Every action is calculated, every decision weighed with thoughtful consideration. He moves with purpose, deliberate and measured, leaving nothing to chance.

Nothing goes unnoticed, or falls under the radar when you’re with Law; he may be tedious with his touches, but damn, it’s worth it, because he does it all perfectly.

Beneath his analytical exterior lies an insatiable curiosity; a deep, obsessive desire to understand every facet of your being, from the intricacies of your mind to the contours of your exquisite body.

He wants nothing more than to please you beyond comprehension.

You’re laying on your stomach, a pillow beneath your pelvis to raise you a bit. Law is hovering above you as he thrusts steadily into your cunt, leaning down to groan in your ear and kiss along your nape.

His pace is fixed but firm, and the position you’re in aids him in hitting your sweet-spot dead-on with each thrust.

You’re whimpering needily, coming undone beneath the doctor as he stays true to his consistent pace.

He’s precise and careful; making sure to hit your g-spot with each pass, but he can tell you’re desperate for something; aching for more.

He can tell what you’re about to say before you can even get the courage to let it out,

“Please, Law, harder!”

A smug grin tugs at his lips, amused by your desperation for his cock, but he listens, immediately beginning to thrust harder into you.

His pelvis meets your ass with a loud smack with each harsh thrust; the noises are lewd and your weak screams only add to it, but his pace never falters as he obeys your plea.

He’s determined to instill in you the fact that polite requests will always be granted, but he can’t help but tease you a bit,

“You’re insatiable.”

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

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eeveesanddragons · 11 months

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Centuries - Drabble Challenge #27

“We were always here.” She could hear her voice distort through her mask, and she grinned underneath it.“We never left.” Another said to her left, stepping up to be in line with her.“You poisoned us and left us to die, but guess what?” The voice came from her right now.“We lived, bitch.” Poltergeist spoke, appearing behind their adversaries.Years, they had spent in hiding, scared and afraid and…

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#Drabbles #fall out boy #fantasy #fiction #music challenge #writing

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brabblesblog · 5 months

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A reason to beat again

A small, non-canon compliant drabble.

What if vampire hearts beat again when they fall in love?

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

He first notices it in the underdark.

A soft fluttering in his breast, as he sits by the campfire. He’d been looking at you, but that was nothing new. Lately, that was all he’d been doing during quiet moments in your journey.

In that moment he’d been watching you laugh as Gale regaled you with yet another tale of his days in the academy. He gasps, a hand quietly coming up to his chest. Was he being poisoned? Cursed?

He immediately seeks the refuge of his tent, closing the flap as he goes inside. The feeling was odd, and it went as fast as it had come.

Days pass. And the fluttering happens with increasing frequency.

He hides whenever it happens. Sometimes, it’ll be in the heat of battle. He’d be watching you and see you almost get hit - and there it is, that fluttering in his breast where his heart used to beat.

Used to.

Right?

He shakes his head. It’s impossible. Vampires are undead. He is undead. He has been for two centuries.

But he feels it anyway. When you’re close. When he drinks from you. When you laugh. When your hand touches him.

He ignores that feeling as best as he could, just like how he tries to ignore that growing affection for you.

He caves in, eventually. He tells you of his feelings, of what he was initially trying to do. He expects you to be hurt, to lash out.

But you hug him.

Pressed against your body, he feels that flutter again. For a second, he assumes he’s feeling your heart. But no. There are two beats there. Not one.

You’re too focused on the hug to notice the change. His eyes widen at the realization of what has happened. What has been happening all this time. Slowly, he lets the feeling in. Lets you in.

It’s not a flutter anymore. It’s a beat. Slow, and very much unlike a living heart, but it still does beat.

Not long after, when you have developed a habit of sleeping over in his tent, you finally notice it.

You’re lying on his chest as he reads a book. Your eyes are half-closed, resting, when you finally hear a slow, constant thudding. You’re so used to hearing your own heart race when you’re with him, so missing a sound so subtle made sense.

“What was-“ you begin to say, trying to get up and ask him what on earth that was. You know for a fact when you slept together at the clearing that he had no heartbeat. You tap his chest questioningly.

He puts his book away, and looks down at you. He smiles. His hand finds your hair, stroking it lazily.

“I was wondering when you’d notice.”

You frown, trying to think of an explanation. “You’ve started feeding on my blood. Mine and our enemies’. Thinking creatures,” you say, more to yourself than anything. You’re enjoying this, teasing out the puzzle of his heart.

He laughs, a soft bark of sound in the silence of the evening.

“Don’t flatter yourself, darling. Your blood - or that of goblins and gnomes - isn’t that miraculous,” he drawls. “This.. doesn’t usually happen.”

Then again, vampires usually don’t fall in love, either.

“Then what?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, challenging him. “Because I’m pretty sure that wasn’t there before.”

He thinks it through for a moment, then lets his guard down. His eyes widen and he cups your cheek. It’s not often that he does this, but lately you’ve been seeing it more often in your quiet moments together.

“I think.. it just found a reason to beat again,” he murmurs. He looks away immediately, embarrassed at the raw vulnerability of the moment.

You know not to lean too much into this moment. Instead you offer him a retreat into the safety of banter.

“I’m actually stunned. I didn’t even think you had a heart, Astarion,” you say, a grin forming on your lips.

He takes your offer gratefully, slipping back into it without missing a beat.

“Darling,” he scoffs, playing up the offended expression on his face, “I’m hurt. Here I am, treating you so nicely, and you think I’m heartless?”

His hands move to pin you down and tickle you, and the conversation dies and becomes cursing and screaming, as you try to fight him off.

And deep inside his chest, his heart soars.

Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion x you #pale elf #astarion fic #astarion x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate #baldurs gate iii

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tender-rosiey · 1 year

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Could you please do husband sukuna?

rhymes — sukuna x f!reader

a/n: don’t worry I will post my own “GOJO IS BACK” drabble later but let’s have some husband + dad sukuna first

“you.”

“y-yes, my lord?”

“where is y/n?”

“in the m-main bedroom, my lord.”

“hm,” sukuna hums as he walks towards the bedroom. he hears squealing, giggling, and cackling from the inside.

just what the hell is being done in his bedroom?

raising an eyebrow, he kicks the door open to reveal both you and his son jumping on the queen sized bed you both sleep on.

“little bunny foo foo jumping through the forest!” you sing and your son giggles, jumping to your rhythm. you take notice of your husband’s arrival and leap at him, “welcome home!”

he is annoyed, but he catches you with a grunt, nonetheless.

“what’re you doing jumping on the bed I made the servants make especially for us so it suits your peculiar tastes?” he grumbles.

you shrug with a smile, “our dear son wanted some time to unwind and who am I to say no to him?”

“you’re his mother. you should have more resistance to his ‘cuteness’ than this; he will grow up to be a king,” he concludes and your son ignores him, still jumping on the bed.

you giggle, “and that’s why I am the fun parent, my dear husband,” you sigh softly and pull him down to press a kiss on his cheek, “I missed you.”

“do it properly,” he says and pulls you up to him and presses a scandalous kiss on your lips. you smack his shoulder lightly after he lets go and he merely chuckles.

“stop doing that in front of our son!”

sukuna smirks and you simply roll your eyes.

“mommy, look I am flying!”

“yes I know, sweetie; that’s awesome!”

“mommy, look I am a superhero!”

“I know, love; you’re the best superhero,” coo at your son who is still jumping on the bed.

your husband just looks at him and wonders how the hell does he get the energy.

personally, you have no idea, but something tells you it’s the genetics from your dear husband who is also the king of curses.

sukuna huffs and pulls you by the waist to him, “you keep spoiling him, but you neglect me?”

“I spoil you both and you know it.”

“do you now?” he challenges and you look at him blankly.

“sukuna, i need to go to work,” you mumble.

“no.”

“no?”

he pulls you closer and nods, “you will stay here til I have had enough of you.”

“BUT YOU NEVER HAVE ENOUGH AND I CAN’T STAY CUDDLING WITH YOU! WHAT ABOUT MY JOB?!”

“you’re married to the king of curses; that’s the last thing you should be worried about,” he deadpans.

“that has nothing to do with spoiling me; you’re just weak-willed,” he grins and you think that, maybe, kicking him in the nuts won’t be so bad.

your son can live without sibling; it will be okay.

you quip, “then how about the time I got you breakfast in bed?”

“the chef was the one cooked it; you only delivered it to my room.”

“why don’t you believe that I cooked it?”

“cause your cooking is awful; it’s probably the only thing close to a poison that could actually kill me.”

you and your son gasp, but your son is the one to retort to his father, “mommy cooked it all by herself! you ungrateful old man!”

you’re about to scold your son to not insult his father but to your surprise, your husband is one step ahead of you.

however, you would’ve preferred if he didn’t even act cause the moron pushed your son off the bed.

your son screams before falling off and hitting the ground in a way that was far from harmless. slowly, his cries grow and he starts wailing and sobbing.

sukuna smirks, “no more monkeys jumping on the bed.”

“SUKUNA! HE IS CRYING!”

“he is my son; he can handle it.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso

do not copy or plagiarize or I will rat you out to gojo

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stararch4ngelqueen · 7 months

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MY BRAIN IS MELTING BRO

i saw a tiktok with Ghost's hand measurements-

TELL ME WHY HIS HAND IS ALMOST BIGGER THAN MY HEAD HELLO-

the brainrot is brainrotting and im so obsessed with this man

anyways maybe a drabble with a *sprinkle* of size kink with ghost fucking f!reader???

i hope your part of the world is doing well!!

Big hands. Help me. Kinda went off track with request, it’s not the best thing I’ve done, but I hope you like it

thank you for your cervix 🫡🌝

A thick palm slips along your soft, cushiony body, fingers sprawling along your damp abdomen, smooth skin meeting the weathered state of his calloused fingers.

“So wet,” The Lieutenant grumbles over you, feeling your muscles clench around the width of his cock. “Eager, eager little girl.”

You took him in so easily after fucking you with just the tip for a good few moments. The continuous cycle of Ghost watching the head of his cock pop into your eager little soaked hole before you squeezed him out; an erotic torture for you both.

You wanted more, begging for more of what you couldn’t take quite yet, but who was Ghost to say no?

You wanted the challenge. So take it.

Your breasts lightly bounced with every torturous rock, your ass flush against his waist. An electric sting of overstimulation renders you speechless, babbling crooked cries crossing his ears as angelic symphonies.

Those delicious fingers, still damp with your juices, lightly massaged along your skin with gentle intention while rocking his hips painfully slow, drawing your measly little whimpers for as long as possible.

Your body was nothing compared to his stature. Your hips weakly locked around his broad waist, twitching calves trembling along the fat muscles of his thighs. Everything about Ghost was big. Everything.

“Ohh, Y’like that?” Simon leans down over your quivering body, the slow angle squishing the tip of his cock directly against your cervix. The stretch, the pressure of feeling so full in such a short amount of time.

“Tough girl, ain’t ya?” Your Lieutenant rasps, returning his hand along your front once more,

He thrusts once, quite hard in fact, surprised to feel the bluntness faintly bump against his palm. Your back arched, a loud gasp leaving your kiss bitten lips.

He chuckles. Dark, delicious, boldly.

“What’s the matter, love? Can’t take it?”

He leaves no room for answer, skin harshly hitting soaked skin as he bucks again, biting back a rumbled grunt. His gaze falls in love with those sweet, bouncing tits, his spine nearly collapsing from the tight tension of your cunt gripping his shaft.

That blunt blow against his palm was magnificent, making you see bright flashes behind closed eyes. He bucks his hips again, pushing his palm deep just enough to gain a higher pitched whine, reminding you just how deep his big cock was buried inside your pussy. Essentially his now.

“Open ‘em,” Ghost requests, lowering himself just enough to kiss along your forehead. “Open those eyes,”

Your lashes brimmed with tears, peering up at him as if he was a God, clinging to what mercy he could possibly give. Those pretty lips, those watery eyes, apple flushed cheeks, all making his dick throb deliciously.

“S’Alright. Breathe for me, good. That’s good, good girl.” During his words, his hands work on reinforcing his hold on your hips, grasping along your thighs for proper leverage. Be expected to see muddled bruises the size of his fingerprints.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Again, he hopes you never will. It’s not his fault his pretty girl isn’t used to proper cock yet. Good thing you have him around now.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #this #mmm #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader smut

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sailoryooons · 4 months

Text

Bust | KTH | (m)

☾ Pairing: Heistman!Taehyung x f. Reader

☾ Summary: Seeing a beautiful man in the middle of a bank robbery is unusual. Seeing him again afterward is even more unlikely… and yet not unlucky.

☾ Word Count: 2,211

☾ Genre: Criminal, Smut, PWP

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Bank robbery, light depiction of fear/anxiety, mentions of poor financial situations and money-related stress, recreational drinking, ‘good girl’ petname, explicit language, sexually explicit content including oral (f. receiving), biting, spanking, implied body worship kind of, a hint of overstim, bodily fluids and cum-eating.

☾ Published: Monday, January 15, 2024

☾ A/N: This is an idea I randomly spoke about forever ago in a TikTok DM with @gimmethatagustd and this is strictly written to ruin their entire life tonight. I hope it works idk osifodigjoijg.

☾ A/N 2: Tonight is number four for my 100 Drabble Challenge and I rolled number 24 for criminals! I hope you enjoy my depraved thoughts of Taehyung in that GOD DAMN SQUID GAME OUTFIT AT PTD. MY MASK KINK DOESN’T MAKE AN APPEARANCE BUT BE FUCKING SURE IT WILL ONE DAY. HE MADE ME INSANE.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration ☾

Sweat beads down your back, the trickle of it slower than the clock ticking above your head. Time seems to slow as you sit on a carpet that hasn’t been steam cleaned since the 80s and push yourself against the wall, eyes glued to the open vault.

It had happened so fast and yet now, it’s like it can’t be over fast enough. Each second that ticks by feels like it takes a year. You cannot hear the chatter of the men inside the vault, but their harsh whispers raise goosebumps on your skin.

At least they haven’t noticed you. Not that you would do much, anyway. You have no intention of going over to push the alarm by the door, too afraid to alert the armed man who stands just outside the vault room on the other side, and far too underpaid to risk your life for a financial institution.

For a moment, you wish it were you robbing the damned bank. Maybe you could pay off the student loans on your degree you’re not using and run the heating in your apartment during the winter instead of bundling up in several layers.

Your momentary lapse of delusion passes as the men rush out of the vault, duffles in hand. They’re all dressed in red, black masks covering their faces with shapes on them. You’re vaguely aware that the costume belongs to some sort of show you saw online, but you can’t place them.

Perhaps you’ll watch it now.

“Hurry up,” one of the men barks toward the vault. There had been three inside, but only two came out. “Grab the last and let’s go. Two minutes left.”

They’re gone in an instant. Your eyes dart back to the vault where you can hear the last person inside. Glancing at the clock, you watch the seconds tick by.

Ten seconds. Fifteen. Thirty. A minute.

A man dressed in a red suit, hood pulled over his head comes out of the vault. As he slugs it shut with one arm, the bag on his shoulder droops, spilling the contents inside out onto the floor. Bands of cash fall out, thudding around his feet. He swears loudly and bends over, back slipping more to drop cash on the ground.

In his frustration, he crouches and tips the mask up a fraction, shielding his face from the camera above but not from you, huddled on the floor a few feet away.

Your heart skips. The thief is beautiful. Dark eyes focused on his task, a wide nose that fits perfectly on a symmetrical face with high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and a pursed mouth. There’s a flush in his face from the heat, the tip of his nose an endearing shade of rose.

As if sensing your gaze, his head snaps up. You cower against the wall, realizing now that you’ve seen his face, you’ve doomed yourself. He stalls completely, gloved hand hovering over the cash, eyes boring into you. He arches a brow as if to ask you a question and you respond by shaking your head.

The thief gives you a cocky grin, nodding before he finishes picking up the money and tossing it into the bag. He looks at you again, a smirk on full display before he winks and pulls the mask back down. “Good girl,” he purrs. “I like that.”

Despite the situation, your stomach flips. He stands and rushes out, lingering by the door for a second longer to stare at you through the black mask. You can’t see his face, but you know you’ll never forget it, pretty as an angel, dangerous as a devil.

When the group is gone, you wait in silence, only the pumping of your heart to keep you company. When the cops come and ply you with questions all you can do is shake your head repeatedly.

I was too scared. I can’t remember.

It is the same thing you tell investigators for nearly two months. Just when you think they won’t keep asking what the man looked like, they finally drop it, handing over the robbery details to the FBI. They were at least a little less callous, caring a little less about how many questions you answered.

If you had to guess, your unimpressive financial situation even after the robbery was significant enough that you weren’t involved with the robbery.

It’s hard not to wish you had been. The straw in your mouth belongs to a drink that is far too expensive for you to not wince and it barely tastes like anything. At this rate, you know you won’t get a buzz. You’d love alcohol to take the edge off of the loud club music or loosen you up a bit, but you’re resigned to being sober for the rest of your friend's birthday.

Around you is a gaggle of men and women, both people you know and new faces trying to pick up your friends. Anyone trying to hit on you has already decided you’re far too grumpy to waste time on, most of their backs facing you as people shout over the music about working in finance.

You wonder if they also rob banks in their spare time. It makes you grin, thinking fondly about the thief once again. You do that a lot.

Sipping the drink, you glance at your phone. It’s been an hour since you arrived, but you’re wondering if enough time has reasonably passed to excuse yourself. Tomorrow is one of your few days off and you intend to spend it lounging on the couch watching TV instead of nursing a headache.

Someone slides into the space at the bar next to you. You don’t glance up at them, spinning your skinny cocktail straw absently as you stare at the melted ice of your Long Island iced tea. You hoped that once it melted it would turn into a second drink, but it hasn’t. Cold, bitter water it is, then.

“Why the long face?” You frown at the vaguely familiar voice and glance up, freezing.

Mr. Bank Robber looks down at you, cocking his head to the side with a wolfish grin. Your mouth pops open in surprise, leaning back a little as you drink him in. This close, he is far more beautiful than you remember, the edges and shadows of his face like a carefully painted fresco. Michelangelo could hardly be talented enough to capture this.

“You,” you whisper, his grin spreading further.

“Have we met?” he leans on the bar, dressed in all black. You eye the three-piece suit and the glinting diamonds in the cuff links. His clothes are far finer than anything anyone else is wearing and when you breathe in sharply, you smell a hint of woody cologne. His dark hair is slicked back and you catch the dainty hoop earrings in his lobes. You like the juxtaposition.

“You know we have.” He tongues the inside of his cheek, turning his head to order with the bartender. His eyes stray to you, raising a brow. You supply him with your answer, “A long island.”

The bartender nods, momentarily stupefied by the heistman’s beauty before walking over to the POS, tapping the screen with the speed and aggression unique to bartenders.

“Kind of a shitty club,” he mentions, looking around over the top of your head. Sweat clings to your lower back, your mouth growing dry as you watch colors splash on his face. “Your face is too pretty for a place like this.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” The bartender puts the drinks on the counter and the man gives him cash, signaling to keep the change. The bartender raises a brow but says nothing, taking the money as he goes. “What’s your name?”

“You probably already know it.” He cocks his head to the side. “I’m sure you looked me up to see if I was a threat or watched me to see what I’d do.”

“You watch too many heist movies.”

“Maybe I watch just enough.”

He laughs at that and your lips twitch. It’s rich, making his face intimidating as he gives you a wide smile and shakes his head. “Alright, maybe you’re right.”

“Can I know your name?”

“For the right price.”

“My silence was a pretty petty, no?”

He bites his bottom lip, eyes dipping down and back up. You sip your drink, feeling a flush of warmth unfurl in your body, most notably between your legs. “I like you.”

“You have to like me. I know your secret.”

Leaning forward, he ducks down so that he’s murmuring into your ear, hot breath ghosting your skin and making you tremble. “Want to hear more?” Your eyelids flutter as he waits, skin buzzing at his sudden proximity. You nod, feeling lightheaded. “My name is Taehyung. Want to get out of here?”

“Fuck,” Taehyung growls, hands skimming your bare sides. You can’t keep still under his gaze, hips squirming and fingers twisting in the sheets. His mouth is swollen and covered in your spit, his eyes blown as a large hand scrapes down to your thigh where he gives you a good slap. “I knew you were a good girl.”

A moan trips out of your mouth. Your thigh stings where he slapped you but he soothes it with the easy back-and-forth motion of his hand, his fingers digging into your flesh. Taehyung is a man starved, having littered your body with harsh kisses and bites, nearly breaking the skin.

You don’t care. You’re feverish for him, room spinning as you sprawl on his soft sheets in a hotel room that is far nicer than anything you’ve ever been in. You burn up like a star, core raging as Taehyung leans back down, pressing your naked thighs open for him as he sucks the skin of your chest between his teeth.

Everything aches. You want him so bad that you feel a cry come out of your mouth, lips wobbling as he laughs against your skin, sinking lower and lower, mouth loud as he sucks at your skin, tongue brushing over the sting of his teeth.

“Does my good girl need her pussy eaten?” Taehyung rasps, looking up at you where he kneels between your legs. “Is that why you’re crying, hmm?”

Taehyung looks like something out of a thriller. His eyes are dark and hungry, his shadowed face becoming some sort of demon of lust. He’s what you would imagine a dark god. A bacchanal devil, a creature made for sin.

All you can do is nod in response, feeling Taehyung’s vicious grip on your thighs as he presses you further, your muscles stretching. The strain feels good, as does the slow drip of your cunt down the curve of your ass mixed with his breath.

“So messy,” he murmurs, leaning forward and blowing cool air on your sticky folds. You squirm, the sensation sending you into overdrive as you twist your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut. He’s barely done a thing and you’re worked up more than you can ever recall. “Pretty.”

The slow, soft press of Taehyung’s tongue through your pussy makes you sag. It’s the relief that you so desperately needed, eyes rolling back as he circles your clit and drags his tongue back down. Taehyung is slow as he eats you out, tongue savoring every drop you can give him.

He taps your thigh, drawing your attention to him. He smirks as his tongue dips into your entrance, dragging back up to swirl around your throbbing bud a few times.

It’s impossible to tear your eyes away once you’re watching. Taehyung keeps his razor-sharp gaze on you, bringing his mouth fully to your cunt as he sucks eagerly. There is a rhythm to the curl of his tongue and the sharp suck of his lips, the wet smack of his ministrations driving you crazy.

“Mmm,” he hums, pressing his face in further. He’s messy with it, his jaw and nose covered in shiny slick. He laughs throatily when your back comes off the bed, thighs shaking. “Such a good pussy, just like I knew it would be.”

It feels too hot in the room. Your breaths are coming in too fast and there’s nothing you can do to catch it, Taehyung working you up to a frenzied, frenetic orgasm. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, pumping so hard that you think you might need to stop.

And then you break.

Your body seizes as you come, a scream ripping through your mouth as Taehyung slurps hungrily at your mess, spurred by your release. You can’t stop shaking as he dives in, unwilling to stop until you’re babbling, nearly lifeless as the orgasm teeters into overstimulation.

Only then does Taehyung pull his mouth away, trailing wet, cum-spit kisses on your inner thigh, nipping your thigh here and there.

“Think you can take more?” he asks, slurring his words against your thigh. “Think you can take my cock.”

You nod eagerly, hand letting go of the sheets and reaching toward him. “Yes.”

“Mmm good. I’m about to bust.” He bites your knee. “And I don’t mean a bank, this time.”

#taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #v smut #bts v

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weasleyreidstyles · 2 months

Text

between the shelves

for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge!!

prompt 1: "is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?"

pairing: theodore nott x reader (no house specified)

warning(s): none

~∞~ a short little drabble – i've never written anything for theo so i thought i'd give it a shot.

There are many beautiful mysteries within the castle walls. That includes Hogwarts' expansive library that holds every book one could think of, and more. It's earthy tones and the smell of ink on parchment paper permeates the air at all hours of the day and the rustle of books is the only sound, besides idle chit chat that fills the vast room.

Right now, you despise the library.

The table that you and your potions partner had chosen was small and crammed into a corner of two towering bookshelves and the heat that magically swept through the room seemed to be set to sweltering hot as you sat, clinging to the fabric sleeves of your cardigan, which you refused to remove. There are potions books strewn across the table, which you absolutely abhor to look at, especially as his deft finger trace featherlight patterns against the worn covers as he jots a note down onto a separate piece of parchment for the assignment the two of you have been tasked with completing.

It all seems physically impossible. The fact that you're totally abysmal at potions, paired with the way Theodore Nott made you so nervous. Sitting in the sweltering library with him, is the last place you want to be right now.

He was one of the most popular boys in your year. Star quidditch player; top of all his classes without even having to try; he had more friends than you had fingers and he was just so godsdamn attractive. Everyone either wanted him, or wanted to be him in some capacity. Sometimes when you looked at him, jealousy festered in your gut because how can he sit in lessons so nonchalantly, but still remain just below Hermione Granger in all of them? And how can someone be made to be that fucking attractive?

It was not fair.

But more often than not, when you catch yourself staring at him (it happens more frequently than you'd care to admit) you find yourself constantly picking out the little things about him that make your heart soar.

Like the way his nose twitches irritably when his slightly curled hair falls over his eyes, yet he refuses to get it cut shorter.

Or the way his mouth tilts into a devious smirk that has people swooning instantly.

When he's on the quidditch pitch, his agility could rival the professional. He was truely a real talent and he could have an amazing future career, you think.

But the most fascinating thing about him are his eyes. Theodore has the most captivating eyes you've ever seen. They are a kaleidoscope of blues and greys that you find yourself wishing to get lost in.

Unbeknownst to you, Theo looks up from his note taking and watches as you stare off into space, the potions book in front of you long forgotten. His lips lift into that arrogant smirk that you seem to admire quite a lot as he abandons his own work in favour of staring you down.

You must be miles away in your own mind because you barely concentrate on the fact that he's looking so deeply at you, that he may as well have been staring right at the makings of your very soul.

"Have you got a staring problem, dolcezza?" he asks, his deep voice a mixture of smooth and raspy. It makes your heartbeat pick up in speed as you're jolted from your wandering thoughts.

"I'm bored." You mumble, moving your hands, which are resting on your lap, to lay upon the table so that you can lie your head down. "Potions is so draining and it's so bloody hot in here."

"Is that it, or is it because you're in love with me?"

You sit up abruptly, eyes wide and mouth threatening to gape like a fish out of water as he merely stares back at you with his brows slightly raised. His smirk is widening, almost to a full blown grin. Gods he's so pretty, is all you can think as you roll your eyes at him.

He lets out the lightest of snickers as you ignore him and open your abandoned book, in favour of evading his gaze. But he could already see the blush crawling further and further across your cheeks.

"You can admit it if you want to, darling." He says teasingly, his voice is arrogant and silky and it makes you blush even more. "I don't blame you. Everyone seems to be in love with me."

He smiles prettily at you as you glare at him from across the table.

"No one like an egotistical brat, Theodore." you retort, but there's no bite in your words – there never is when it comes to him. And as he stares you down, you swear you can see the reciprocation in his gaze, but it's gone almost instantly when he turns back to his own notes.

One day, you'd tell him how you felt.

Today was not that day.

#hogmarch challenge #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #fluff

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tongue-like-a-razor · 28 days

Note

Request for Rooster please :) basically fluff, not sure if you have something like this already but something along the line of y/n being a pilot as well, Rooster falling for them and trying to potentially impress them? Trying to confess before his chance is loss because he sees hangman around y/n time to time but Rooster doesn’t find out (immediately) that hangman and y/n are siblings so Rooster is torn between confessing or not (he does end up confessing)

Ahh thank you for the super cute request! I have a thing for writing sisters, you know ;)

Worst Day Ever

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Seresin Sister!Reader

CW: Just a lil drabble, nothing fancy. A little cheesy. A bit fluffy. A lot goofy. The star of this show is Nat XD

WC: ~1100

“This is the worst day ever.”

Natasha looks over at Bradley as he moodily packs up his things at the end of the briefing. She grins in amusement. “You sound like a toddler.”

Bradley exhales gloomily and directs his gaze toward the front of the room where you stand, chatting with Bagman. “What does she see in that dirtbag?” he makes a face of disgust.

“I guess she sees his abs.” Natasha shrugs.

Bradley gives her a flat look. “Not you too.”

“What?” she exclaims with a laugh. “I’m not denying that he’s got a shit personality.” She glances over at you and Jake. “But he’s easy on the eyes, what can I say?”

“Maybe I should challenge him to a push up contest,” Bradley muses.

“Dude, we’re in the military.” Natasha shakes her head. “Push ups are not going to impress her.”

“But his abs did the trick?”

Natasha purses her lips. “Have you seen him flex?”

“Maybe you should bag him,” Bradley proposes sourly. Then, he adds, “Actually, that’s not a half bad idea!”

“No,” Natasha responds curtly and starts for the door.

“C’mon, Trace. I will owe you.” Bradley trails after her. “I will pay you.”

Natasha stops just short of the door. “To do what?”

“We’ll invite them to the Hard Deck. You distract Bagman –”

“No,” Natasha repeats, exiting the room.

“I thought you had my back!” Bradley calls after her as the rest of the aviators assigned to the mission start filing out into the hallway.

“Someone leave you hangin’, Rooster?” Jake asks playfully as he walks by.

Bradley flashes an annoyed look in his direction and sees that you’re walking alongside him. He locks eyes with you briefly – for the first time ever – and then glances back at Jake irritably. “Don’t worry, Bagman. That’s still your undisputed domain.”

Jake scoffs while you drop your head to hide a smile.

“Hey Bagman!” Natasha calls from down the hall.

Bradley looks up to see her doubling back.

“You guys want to join us at the Hard Deck tonight?” she asks casually.

Jake raises his eyebrows in surprise, so shocked at the invitation that he doesn’t respond right away.

That’s when you say, “Sure! We’ll be there!”

…

“Drink as much as you want, Phoenix,” Bradley says giddily. “It’s on me.”

“You bet your ass it is,” Natasha says, taking a swig of beer. “I’m going to need it.”

Bradley doesn’t have a chance to laugh because that’s when you and Jake enter the bar.

The two of you make your way over to Bradley and Natasha’s table. Jake is scowling but your smile is bright enough for the both of you.

“Hey!” Bradley says, rising from his seat to greet you.

Jake gives him a dirty look and Bradley squares his shoulders to appear a little taller. Jake might have gotten to you first but that doesn't mean that Bradley can't, at least, try.

“How’s it going?” you say as you take a seat and Bradley could swear they’re the three sweetest words he’s ever heard in his life.

“Great,” he responds, beaming at you like an idiot.

“So good,” Natasha responds absently, downing the remainder of her beer. “I need a refill.”

Jake, who is just about to sit down, rises again with an irritable sigh. “What’re you drinking?” he asks.

Natasha grimaces at him. “I can get my own beer,” she responds, also getting up.

Jake gives her a phony grin. “I guess you’re used to it,” he bites back.

You elbow Jake aggressively in his leg and he nearly loses his balance. “Be nice,” you warn him.

Bradley watches Natasha and Jake head to the bar together, surprised that you’re familiar enough with Jake to physically assault him considering the briefing this morning was only the third time you’ve met. Bradley wonders if maybe you know Jake from before; that would explain your allegiance.

“I’m glad you guys came,” Bradley says to you, not really sure how else to start a conversation with a girl who’s more or less spoken for.

You smile at him. “Yeah, thanks for the invite!”

“Of course,” Bradley responds. He decides not to mention that the entire night was orchestrated just so he could spend time with you.

“Jake’s pretty excited.”

Bradley lifts his eyebrows dubiously and looks over at Jake who’s at the bar with Natasha. “He’s got a weird way of showing it.”

You laugh. “Oh, he’s far too ‘badass’ to show it.”

Bradley snorts and looks back at you with a grin. “I like you,” he says before he can stop himself.

You chuckle slightly and lower you gaze without responding.

“I mean it,” he says.

You shift slightly in your seat and change the subject. “Your low altitude pass yesterday was pretty awesome,” you say.

Bradley grins and straightens his posture proudly. “You saw that?”

“It was hard to miss.” You cringe slightly. “Cyclone was so mad, I'm surprised you didn't hear him yelling from the cockpit.”

Bradley winces. “Yeah, I may have gotten into some trouble. But hey, if it means you noticed me, it was worth it.” He lets out a chuckle.

You smile, your eyes resting on his. "I noticed you," you admit.

Bradley keeps his gaze on you, releasing a guilty sigh. What's he doing flirting with you when Jake has clearly already shown interest? He hangs his head sullenly and says, "Look, I don’t know what you and Bagman have going on –”

“Umm,” you interject, holding up a hand. Bradley looks up at you, already nauseated because he’s fairly certain you’re about to tell him off. Instead, you proceed to say, “You know he’s my brother, right?”

Bradley blinks at you in awe. After several lengthy seconds, he says, “Shut the fuck up.”

You start laughing. “What did you think?”

Bradley drops his face in his hands, embarrassed and relieved in equal measure. “That’s why you like him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” you mutter sarcastically.

Bradley nearly chokes. “You’re hilarious,” he says.

You lean into the table toward him. “And you’re cute.”

Bradley stares at you in amazement and then grins sheepishly. “I’m so glad you think so.”

“Alright kids,” Bradley hears Jake’s voice and realizes that he and Natasha have approached the table. “We’re gonna call it a night.”

“What? Already?” Bradley exclaims, looking up at them. He instantly observes that Jake is holding Natasha’s hand. “Oh,” Bradley adds, meeting Natasha’s gaze with an amused grin. “Well, this is turning out to be an alright day.”

Natasha shoots him a threatening look but says not a word.

“Bradshaw,” Jake says, narrowing his eyes as he glances between you and Bradley pointedly. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Bradley solutes him with a nod and a smirk and then says, “You have yourself a good night, Seresin.”

Rooster Tag List:

The rest of the list will be in the comments.

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

@xoxabs88xox

@callsignvenus

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@ijustwantedplums

@Elenavampire21

@SometimesAnAlice

@risingtripletaurus

@desert-fern

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@graciereads

@pono-pura-vida

@ltfirecracker

@rascallyrascals

@kitty-moonflower-blog

@Melody-death

@bellaireland1981

@justlurkingplsignore

@rhettsluvr

@mandyppp

@eloquentdreamer

@topherwrites

@jessicab1991

@seitmai

@novastories

@stoneyggirl2

@roosterandme

@julielightwood

@primroseluna

@diorrfairy

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@dontletthemtakeyoualive

@schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker

@memoriesat30

@igotmajordaddyissues

@widemiffyhappy

@queerqueenlynn

@hizzielover

@ttokkisbee

@justmymindandstuff

@jrdyn

@callsign-mayhem

@og-baby-ob14

@chewymoustachio

@itsizzythebell

@marvelshoney

@sarcastic-sourwolf

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

omg I love your sirius sm like im actually obsessed with him!!!! I was wondering if you could just do a cute drabble or one shot about him cuddling with reader and fighter over who’s big spoon and little spoon? I feel like he’d always get to be little spoon and reader would complain about it but secretly love it! if not no worries :))

Thanks for requesting sweetheart! There is nothing I want more in life than to be straddled in a playfully agressive manner by Sirius Black <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 500 words

“This is so not fair,” you laugh, and Sirius is trying to pin you behind him with his hands splayed awkwardly on your back. “You’ve had your turn forever.”

“I’m not rolling over,” he tells you simply.

You wriggle out of his grip, his black fingernails grasping desperately at your sleep shirt. “Fine,” you say, “then I’m rolling over. We can just sleep with our backs touching.”

Sirius has flipped towards you before you can get far. He pins the arm closest to him to the bed so you can’t turn to your other side, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You are going to spoon me,” he says, quietly, so straight-faced you’d hardly know he was playing with you, “and you are going to like it. Understand?”

You’re not near as good as him at the stony act. You press your lips together, but they slant upward. “No,” you reply, and tug your arm from his grip.

Your boyfriend makes an indignant sound, grabbing your arm again and rolling on top of you. You laugh, struggling. He only grabs hold of your other wrist, pinning both to the bed and leaning down so he’s in your space.

“Why must you be so difficult?” he asks, like this is really very petulant of you.

You blow at the hairs falling in his face. Sirius’ composure doesn’t break, but now the mirth is in his eyes. Quick as a flash, he pecks you on the lips.

“Wha—don’t do that!” you giggle, moving your hips this way and that to jostle him. He rides it out like minor turbulence. “We’re in a fight.”

“Don’t be so good-looking, then.” He steals another kiss, better than the last. It makes you chase him once it’s done, but he pulls out of your reach. “Feeling ready to spoon, darling?”

“Ready to be spooned,” you challenge. “You can’t seduce me into submission, you know.”

Sirius blows out a breath as if the tedium of this dispute is really getting to him. “Alright, fine.” He lets go of your wrists, slumping down on top of you and folding his hands on your chest. He lets his chin rest atop them. “I can stay here all night. I’m rather comfy, actually.”

You’ll bet he is. You roll your eyes exaggeratedly, making sure he sees your reluctance. “Okay,” you sigh. “You can be little spoon for tonight, but I want at least two hours of little spoon time when we watch that movie tomorrow night.”

He grins, flashing teeth. “Can do, sweetness.”

“Oh, now it’s sweetness,” you mutter as he rolls off you and onto his side.

“You’re always my sweet girl,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling your arm over him and kissing your heart line. He gives your hand a condescending little pat. “Sometimes you just need to remember who’s in charge.”

“I can still turn around,” you threaten. “And is the one in charge the one pushing his butt into me right now?”

“You better believe it, gorgeous.”

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reiderwriter · 8 months

Text

Elevator Pitch

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2k!!

Warnings: Smut, fingering, semi-public sex/ foreplay, praise kink-ish, some pet names completely ignored Spencer's germophobia to make this work 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive you're sharing the metal box of death with has an interesting idea about how you can pass the time.

A/N: This is just a really quick drabble for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute challenge for this month!! I have an idea for another one that I'll post closer to Halloween too, so look forward to that alongside all the kinktober fics 👀

Check out my masterlist here!

You weren't planning on running late on your very first day on your new team, but here you were. You were scheduled to meet Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner in his office at 9 a.m. sharp, and here you were at 8:57, trapped inside an elevator. At least you weren't alone, but alone with a stranger, and one who seemed to be talkative in the worst way wasn't exactly ideal either.

"Hey, don't panic. There are about 6 elevator-related deaths per year and about 100,000 injuries. I'm pretty confident about those statistics." He said, taking a sip of his coffee as he stood calmly by the door, pressing buttons and waiting for something to happen.

"Oh god, I'm gonna die in here." You whimpered a little bit, falling to your knees and screwing your eyes shut.

"No, I said we're not gonna die. Or its at least very unlikely."

"And I'm supposed to trust you?"

"Yes, I'm very good with numbers. Elevator accidents account for 0.00024% of all elevators in service in the US. There you don't have to panic anymore." Almost punctuating his words, the elevator gave a low groan and fell an inch lower, pushing him off balance and toppling to the floor right next to you.

"That was just unfortunate timing." He said, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes opened again finally, and you noticed that due to his topple, he was way closer than before, face merely inches from your own. Whoever this overconfident stranger was, he was attractive. Distractingly so, as you didn't respond to his sentence the entire time he was there in front of you, words suddenly escaping you as you stared into his dark, wide eyes.

"Mechanical issues are the cause of about 15.3% of elevator incidents. Since we're in Quantico, we can probably rule out foul play, which means that they'll probably have us back up and running in around 27 minutes." Opening his mouth ruined the fantasy for a minute, waking you up to the reality of your situation.

"Did you work an elevator case or something, why do you know so much about this?" You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, as he launched into another speech.

"I read the statistical reports published by the CPSC and the OSHA. It’s really interesting stuff actually, there are-”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way but I need you to shut up. I don’t think I can take any more statistics about my inevitable death by elevator. Can we do something else instead?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Can you… Can you hold my hand?” You felt yourself flush red the second the words left your mouth, and suddenly it was your turn to talk too much. “My mom used to do it when I was scared as a kid, and obviously you’re not my mom, and you don’t even know me, but I thought it could help comfort both of us. Human contact and touch is supposedly comforting in times of distress so I just thought…” He cut you off by silently grabbing your hand and settling into a seated position beside you and you sent a little prayer up to god to spare both your soul and your heart.

Because Jesus Christ it was beating hard now.

“Oxytocin,” he said and you looked up at him with a questioning look. “Oxytocin is released when you come into contact with other people, it’s the reason newborn babies benefit from skin-to-skin contact and why humans enjoy petting domestic animals so much. And the whole sex to destress thing.” He nodded and looked away, but you could have sworn the oxygen was completely sucked out of the room when he mentioned sex.

“Sex?” He turned to you as you said the word, as if processing the conversation you were in the middle of it.

“Yeah, never heard of it?” You rolled your eyes and squeezed his hand in your own for a second, but his body was leaning closer into yours now, his entire attention on you, as if he expected you to answer the question.

“Of course I have.”

“And what do you think? Can it help you de-stress?”

Your mouth moves before you can stop it. “Can we stop talking about this please, I’m already scared, I don’t need to be scared and horny.” You close your eyes and groan as his widen again, and suddenly you’re praying again, but this time you wouldn’t really mind if you became one of those six elevator malfunction deaths.

“I don’t know, maybe it would help you. There are some studies that show that stress can have aphrodisiacal impacts in women, you know?” His voice was light, but your entire body stiffened as you looked into his eyes, trying to gauge what this stranger was offering.

“So what, you’re suggesting I just get more and more turned on until I’m not worried about death?”

“No, I’m suggesting I close the gap between us and distract you for a while.” You spared a glance down to his lips then, his tongue darting out to lick them and pulling you in closer. You nodded quickly, a small movement and he pushed his lips down into yours.

He was soft at first, and you almost felt like pulling away and scalding yourself for engaging in risky behavior during a near-death experience. But just as you moved to pull away, his hand came up to your hair and you melted right back into him, the kiss deepening as you slanted your neck up to give up more of yourself to him.

You barely feel his hands pulling you into his lap, but you’re suddenly there and so happy you are. Your free hand wanders up to his chest as he squeezes your connected digits again, sending your heart into a fit of palpitations. In a panic you pull away, groaning a little as you can feel his not stiff member poking between your legs.

“Sorry, I don’t think we exchanged names. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N..”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His lips fall down to your neck as he whispers the words into your skin, and you let your head fall back as his hands untangle from you and fall to your hips, encouraging your movements as you begin grinding over him.

“And you said we had twenty-seven minutes before we’re free, right?”

“Whose the one talking too much now?” He bit into your neck sharply then, and you moaned out, battling the urge to let him take you there on the elevator floor. From it’s perch on your hip, his hand slips down and pops the button in your pants, pushing inside and finally touching you through your panties.

“That’s it, good girl, just keep grinding down on me.” Unconsciously, you press your hips into his hands, the pressure leaving you letting out a whistful sigh of relief.

“God,… Should we be doing this here?” Your words were unsure, but your movements weren’t as you pushed yourself into him again and again, desperate to feel more of him as he rubbed circles into your clit, driving you closer and closer to your peak.

“Let’s assume for now that the elevator malfunction has wiped out the CCTV,” he says, lips pressing against your skin as you lose yourself in his touch again. “We absolutely should be doing this.”

His words fell straight to your core, and you felt yourself grow more aroused as you pondered being caught in such an intimate position with a stranger.

“You think you can cum right here, baby? Think you can give me one soon?” His words almost sent you over the edge, his smile widening as your hips twitched over his.

“Fuck, yes, yes, please, don’t stop.”

“Not so scared about this elevator anymore are you? Or did you want to spend your last moments coming undone in my hands?” With his words, you lost the ability to speak, simply moaning out your agreement to his every word.

“I think I can hear someone talking through the walls, baby, you’re going to have to cum now for me, can you do that?” You nodded to him as he increased his pace on your words, and within seconds, you were letting it all out, head falling against his shoulder as you twitched through your orgasm. He pulled his hands out of your pants quickly and pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to a standing position and making you look presentable as the doors to the elevator were finally pried open from the other side.

“Hey, how are you guys holding up in there?” The call came from the maintenance staff, and you were sudden;y thankful that he’d finished you off when he did because as horny as you’d been, actually getting caught like that was something entirely different than the fantasy of it.

You’re almost sorry that you have to leave when you do, suddenly absolutely involved in helping him “destress” the same way he’d helped you out. But he removes his hands from you and strikes up a conversation with the maintenance staff working to get your elevator level with the floor doors. You gravitate to the back of the stall, gripping the railing while your brain catches up to the circumstances.

In no time, the elevator is back in working order, and you and your stranger are stepping foot on steady ground again, and saying your goodbyes.

“Aaron Hotchner’s office is through those doors. Up the stairs to the left.” He smiles and nods at you before turning down the corridor and leaving you there by yourself. A glance at your clock tells you you’re too late to question his words, and how he even knew where you were going. You take off down the hall, ready to profusely apologize to your new boss and pledge to take the stairs for the rest of your days.

When Hotch finally greets you, he has already heard about the elevator malfunction, and all is thankfully forgiven. You have to bite your tongue before asking if everyone on this floor is psychic. But you’re still late, and you have a case, so your introductions have to take place in the briefing room and you half-run, half-walk behind the older man as he makes his way down the hall.

“Everyone we have a new team member today, please help her out for this first one and show her the ropes.” He introduces you by name, and you’re suddenly doing your best to memorize the names of a Prentiss, a Rossi, a Morgan, a JJ, and one Penelope Garcia. They seem to be waiting for someone else, but with the clock ticking, Penelope begins debriefing you on the next case.

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice calls from the door, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand up in shock as everyone slowly turns to greet the newcomer.

“What time do you call this?” Morgan laughs as the familiar man approaches, and a quick glance around tells you that the only seat left at the table, which had been so obviously reserved by the pile of paper files in contrast to everyone else's digital alternatives, was right next to you.

“Spencer, we have a new team member, this is Y/N. She’ll be joining us on cases from today onwards.” Hotch quickly says, and you lock eyes with the man just as he falls into his seat.

“I think we’re acquainted. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Spencer Reid.” The room falls silent as he holds out his hand for you to shake, and you do your best to not show your shock and embarrassment on your face. You let your hand fall into his, the same one that you’d held earlier, the same one that had worked you up to the edge and then helped you pour over it, the same one that had pulled you together afterward. You said nothing after you’d finally pulled apart, waiting for him to make the next move once again.

“I look forward to working with you.”

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