#moon x male reader

[qtipcottonbuds]

𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 '𝟭𝟲 ; 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗦𝗨𝗡 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡 [CNC + STUCK IN WALL]

a little gift for @lovinglyselfish​ thank u so much for this idea, you absolute genius my bro <333333 this is technically a prelude to one of the other upcoming kinktober entries yes yes, i will also link it here also mayb this wwas too long oh hoo boy anyhoo I FINALLY DID IT. Am I embarrassed yes. But it's 2 in da morning. Whatevs

warnings ;; CNC, dubcon, (this is a roleplay), robophilia, robotfucking, possible mild language, stuck in wall, fingering, oral sex, fear play, worker!reader, reader is scared of the dark too, cumflation, excessive cum, hinting at a glory hole situation, uhhhh oh yes dacryphilia, i think thats it for now ??, also praise kink and petnames etc

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗬!𝗦𝗨𝗡+𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

Of course, it naturally seems to be that when it’s allegedly ‘too late’ most realisations come to light, or rather stab you in the back. A double-edged sword. You’d opted to take on the graveyard shifts, swapping them for the daytime shifts you’d originally been scheduled to work on - it wasn’t anything to bring home about. Aside from the lecture given to you by one of the higher-ups that even when working after-hours on a day shift, it wouldn’t contribute towards after-hours pay. If anything, the supposed after-hours payment was a complete scam for the newer workers in the Complex. 

An easy way to get more done with less hassle. What a load of shit. Sure enough, working the graveyard shifts allowed you a higher pay raise - and God knew you needed it - the original payment from the prior shift you were on barely covered insurance for questionable injuries.

Worn out, you unintentionally allow yourself to be caught off guard by the overwhelming bright lights occupying the Daycare Centre, almost blinding. In any other case, you’d be more aware, noting not to look up when easing yourself off the padding flooring - but it was late. Probably past midnight. You weren’t exactly used to these shifts. This being the first one of many more yet to come. You liked to think you’d get used to it - at some point, practice made perfect, regardless. 

You did have to admit, the new working hours weren’t all bad, if you had room for some honesty. The animatronics, you had yet the pleasure of meeting, both offered some form of company at least. Being both alone, and in the dark, was something you could never bring yourself to get accustomed to. You’d suspected it was nothing more than a childhood fear, something to grow out of as you grew older, but it stuck firmly. If anything, it grew more intense; the fear of the unknown. The feeling of something being there. Maybe you didn’t have to see it, catch a glimpse of something moving about, away from your line of sight. But, it was the feeling of knowing something could be there. The feeling of feeling something there.

Wiping down and disinfecting the toys, no doubt having been touched or better yet, coated in substances you’d prefer not to think about (especially in the production of how they came to be, exiting a child’s body) you finish up, finally, squirting the disinfectant spray for one last time onto the scrub. A small touch up over the surface of the front desk. 

Setting them down, you sigh. The term graveyard shift, wasn’t exactly an understatement when you thought about it. Your body ached. In more places you considered plausible. Yet, the quicker you got the job done, the easier it would be to head home and sleep for at least the next century. You could at least offer yourself a small break, you muse.

As you prepare to gather your belongings from underneath the main desk within the Center, you pause, catching on to the shade of an obscenely pink plastic ball from the ballpit, just near the entrance of The Cove. It wasn’t that you had any personal vengeance against the colour pink, or any of the selected colours within the Daycare Center (being nothing more than visual simulation for the little ones). It was more that they weren’t exactly gentle on the eyes. Close enough to migraine inducing from the vibrancy. No doubt some of the little children throughout the day had brought them in there. The entrance, near enough to a perfect circle, was just wide enough to crawl through. But, it was dark. Too dark. The soft fairy lights used for decoration had been turned off a few hours ago. Something about saving electricity - a fair enough point.

You contemplate for a short while, exhaling loudly. It wouldn’t hurt putting a few more plastic balls away - there were roughly around 10 to around 20 of them at the most, nothing too heavy. But, it was dark. It wasn’t the most appealing of situations, regardless of how small the hideaway was. There was no source of light occupying The Cove, aside from the overhead lighting cutting through the entry point partially. 

Nibbling on the inside of the cheek, you shift your weight from side to side. 

Quickly striding over (fear fueling your confidence more than anything), you kneel down, leaning into the circular crevice. You’d prefer not to spend any time in that area longer than you needed to. Five minutes at most if you jogged back to the main desk. Mindful of your shoulders bumping into the plush material, you reach in further, blindly palming around until the cool plastic connects with your hand. Latching on to it, you continue the process, taking out one ball at a time, steadying yourself. Nearly done. Squinting, you note there’s one ball further in than the rest, just about illuminated by the light seeping in. 

You could just leave it there. No one would truly notice, most likely until at least the next morning. Yet, you knew, begrudgingly, that even if you had proceeded with leaving it there, you couldn’t risk any mistakes. Not at least on your first night on a new shift - what would that say about you? You needed the pay - you couldn’t risk the possibility of having your check being docked over something so trivial. 

You tap your hands along the smooth material of the entrance, debating. 

“Just one more, that’s all. Then you can rest.”

Exhaling deeply, you lean in for a final time, stretching further in. The entrance walls dig uncomfortably into either side of your ribs, hiking up your work shirt. Abruptly, you find your weight leaning more onto your upper half, leaving you unbalanced - much quicker than you’d anticipated. 

Attempting to pull yourself back with the guidance of the entry point, you find yourself tilting further, having to support yourself reflexively, hands planted firmly on the cushy material - the plastic ball rolling farther in, engulfed entirely in the darkness. 

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. 

You try to breathe through your nose calmly. In. Out. In and out. 

This was no biggie; you’d just overestimated yourself, that’s all. There wasn’t exactly much to the hideout (according to what you were told), mainly occupied by plushies of varying sizes. Nothing more than a safe space. Without the lights on. The majority of the light had now been overshadowed by your shoulders and head, only just filtering through the sides of your neck. Sweat begins to collect in the middle of your hands, hot and balmy, and you opt for shifting your weight onto your knees, internalising thanking the management who gave the green light for the padding flooring; the plausibility of being stuck here longer than you believed, becoming a real possibility.

Pushing backwards, with more urgency this time, you allow your shoes to dig into the flooring, giving some leeway for space as you attempt to twist out of the small hole - you shoulders hunching up together uncomfortably, elbows unable to move, limited by the only space they’d been occupying prior.

Who exactly would still be here? As far as you knew, you were the only one on the said shift, on the said ground floor of the Complex. If anyone else was working this late, they’d at least be working within another sector of the building entirely. The only chance of another hired employee stumbling across you would be nothing more than a coincidence, and that was excluding the possibility of them not even being able to hear you behind the double-glazed glass.

Vanessa; she’d normally finish up around a quarter to midnight, after doing a patrol, both on the security cameras and on foot - and it was already well past the time you’d arrived here initially. Rolling your wrists, allowing a brief break from the strain, you conclude that the only real nearby available help, at the very least, were the animatronics themselves. Either one of the two - Sun or Moon. 

Sun, he was somewhat unnerving, his looming presence of being at least over 8ft tall did initially startle you. And was during the daytime shifts. Although he was mainly jovial, a natural part of his coding system - he was eager to please, eager to learn. Sweet in personality, overall. Moon, on the other hand - your constant fear of the dark did nothing to truly help your possible future interactions with him. You’d only briefly encountered him once, hiding away in the shadows on the ceiling, suspended by wires and bolts. He seemed nice (you hoped at least), you had no real reason to make any judgement but - he was absolutely fucking terrifying in the dark. 

Sucking up your pride (the urge to remain quiet and pretend you’d never even involved yourself in such a stupid situation for a first time shift), you weakly call out, almost sheepish.

“Is, uh, is anyone back there? Hello?” Panic begins to creep into your voice, growing louder in volume. You were becoming increasingly aware of time, knowing that at every even hour, the power breakers would switch off. “Hello? If anyone can hear me, at least, could you help me, please? Hello?”

Nothing. Fuckfuckfuck.

You were okay, you were going to be okay - this was nothing more than a slight blip, a hold up.

Yet, the passing of time, from where you’d started your shift and had gotten stuck, had begun to bleed into one. Every so often, your eyes would drift, just about on the cusp of sleep. You were okay. It was just dark, nothing more, nothing less. The shadows in the corners luckily left nothing to the imagination, engulfing the majority of the given space into one black mass. 

Blinking, you hear the faint whirring of fans and the heavy padding of feet somewhere within the Center. It’s dull, repetitive, a sleep-addled brain unsure of whereabouts it was coming from entirely - but you opt, albeit sleepily, to call out once more.

“Hello?” It’s slurred, weak. “Is… that you, Sun? M’stuck. I don’t… I can’t get out. Could, could you help me, please?”

“Ah! Hello! You’re the pretty new assistant, aren’t you, sunshine? Of course I can help you, silly! Sillysillysilly. It’s what I’m here for.”

Cylindrical fingers, soft and padded, tentatively grasp around your waist. And yet, it’s only until Sun allows his palms to rest on your hips, you acknowledge just how large his hands truly are. Dear God. Each of his fingertips meet across your lower stomach, thumbs kneading your lower back reassuringly - palms large enough to encompass your stomach entirely. 

You were finally going to get out. To go home, brush off the simple mistake and get a much needed sleep.

In spite of the short relief at the thought of being freed, Sun’s fingers skim over the bottom of your work shirt, flicking up the fabric, curiously. His fingers, although coated in a plushy silicone material (for the benefit of preventing accidents), are cool to the touch, not too warm, but not too uncomfortable either to squirm away. 

Still, the animatronic had still made no inclination to pull you out as of yet.

It could be that he was just surveying the situation, that’s all. Looking for the easiest way to pull you out without allowing you to be harmed, is what you tell yourself silently.

Sun’s hands still linger. They trail lower and lower, curling around the belt hoops of your slacks, tugging at the fabric.

“Suh- Sun? Is everything okay back there? You… You haven’t pulled me out yet?” The longer the silence draws out in response to your question, the more the growing unease settles heavily in your stomach. 

Why hadn’t he pulled you out yet?

“You’re so soft, fragile. Plush - compared to me. Sososososo small! Little thing. Pretty sweet thing. All for me.” 

“What?”

“Tiny and pretty, so small in my hands. Well-behaved.”

“Sun, I’d like for you to get me out now… Please? If that’s alright? I need to get home-” You’re more alert now. You don’t like the dark.

He hushes you softly, accompanied by the humming of his sun rays most likely rotating, “Shh. None of that now, sunshine. We don’t talk in our outdoor voices, do we? No; nononono we don’t. That’s naughty. Indoor voices only. Only.”

It’s phrased as a command, rather than as a question - with no room for argument.

Panicking, noticing his presence more closer to you than you anticipated, you struggle in his hold, legs kicking and thrashing about. You needed to leave. Get out of whatever this fucking was. You wanted to go home.

A palm jolts away from your waist, firmly encasing your ankle.

“Sunshine.” You halt in your movements, his voice taking on a deeper tone, breaking with static. “That, that, wasn’t very nice. Was it?”

A meek ‘no’ slips out before you could stop yourself. You couldn’t see - at all. To some extent, you were grateful for it, not being able to see the permanent drawn up smile positioned from cheek to cheek behind you, milky white eyes, too big in proportion to be considered something wholly human, but human enough to recognise the sentiment of certain emotions flitting through his optics. 

You couldn’t see - but you could feel him. Behind you. Looming. 

“I won’t ask you again.” A threat. You consider briefly fighting back - but what good would that do, truly? You were limited by your humanity, and him, it, whatever this was, was beyond that of a human. The bruising hold Sun had left on your legs would no doubt leave marks for days at most.

Sun supplies no response in return to the slight whimper you let out, instead, continuing on, his hands returning to where they originally had settled - metallic thumbs hooking around belt hoops once more, and shimmying your work slacks downwards. Fine hairs across the expanse of your thighs instinctively raise upwards at the sensation of cool air hitting your skin. 

He was far from gentle.

He’s humming now, a tune you can’t say you’re too familiar with, and proceeds to trail his fingertips over the bare skin, up towards your underwear, rubbing over the outline of your sex. As if he was studying it, acquainting himself with your anatomy. 

“Sososososo soft. Delicate. Made for me. A toy.” The last part glitches out, nothing more than an electric warble.

Hooking around the material of your underwear, the fabric strains from the force, sex now bare, embarrasingly so, and Sun, Sun, is nothing near to gentle. Mechanical hands follow around the surface of your rim, feeling across the muscle for a moment or two, before forcefully breaching in, dry and cold. It hurts. It fucking hurts. There’s no room to breathe, letting out a choked gasp of air, as his fingers bear down deeper and deeper, curling and rotating, searching. 

Biting down harshly on your forearm, compelling yourself to avoid honing in on the burning pain, Sun carries on, almost jovially, twisting and spreading his two forefingers apart in a scissoring motion.

It hurts. It hurts and hurts and hurts.

“So warm, wet! All for me. Pretty and warm and lovely and-”

Unable to hold back the drawn out whine, bubbling in your throat, you just about hear the whirring and whooshing of a contraption sliding open, accompanied by a slight hhhhhssssh! and a thick, silicone textured tendril, sloppy and coated in an unknown liquid, brushes up against the fat of your thighs.

It feels like forever and an eternity.

“Wanna fill you up, sunshine, breed and breed, fillfillfill and fill you up just right! A gorgeous, little dolly just for me. For us. Love you, always - always loved you. Watched you, sunshine; talking with the parents, guiding the children if they needed help. Sosososo helpful, so sweet. Good little service worker. Servicing me. Us.”

You wait for him to stop. For it to end.

And yet he doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop. Sun continues to spill and spill and spill himself into you, thick and searing hot, whining helplessly; your stomach beginning to paunch from the volume, settling heavily in your tummy.

Unbearably warm and syrupy, you cringe at the feeling of the liquid seeping between your thighs, starting to cool and stick from the cold air. 

Eyes glossy, you barely notice the feeling of him guiding himself back out, a slight surge of liquid landing on the padded flooring with a wet squelch! in doing so. You can faintly hear the rustling of fabric behind you - Sun casually tucking himself back into his loose fitting pants, but you’re all too oblivious to the chilled sensation of neon marker pens gliding across your heated skin - crudely drawn arrows all directed towards a specific spot.

You hardly take note of the said warmth of his presence leaving you, overstimulated and fucked dumb from the varying sensations - time once again passing. Merging into one and all the same. Joined by nothing but the darkness, you sag, mumbling weakly for ‘help’. You weren’t entirely sure if help would even reach you at this point - if anything, it was more for your own comfort, knowing at least you could hear your own voice, grounding yourself.

Until there’s a slight chiming of high pitched bells, jingling.

The strain in your neck, slack and weak, pulled forwards from gravity, becomes too much to handle, and you glance upwards, only to directly look onto two pin prick dots - a vibrant red, peering back at you from the darkness. You just wanted to go home. 

Sniffling, you writhe, hastily urging yourself to get out, your shoulders burning from the movement.

“I can’t, I can’t. Please, I won’t tell anyone, I promise - just, please… Please help me get out of here. It hurts.”

The bells jingle in tandem, Moon crawling on all fours towards you from the shadows, and he coos. He fucking coos.

“Shh. Shhhhhh. Sun didn’t take care of you, did he? Left you messy. Messymessymessy indeed. And, you will go home, little one.” A smooth thumb rubs over your bottom lip, his faceplate unbearably close to yours, smiling. “Soon. Soon. Your words don’t match the sign left on your back. Not at all. You’ll go home when we’re finished. We’re not done yet.”

You make an attempt to respond, only to gurgle instead; Moon drives his forefingers into your mouth, as if aiming to reach your uvula, until you ultimately gag on reflex, drenching the digits in saliva. 

As he draws his fingers from within your mouth, you immediately hunch over, coughing harshly, eyes blurred - your workplace badge, brightly coloured, now discarded onto the floor with an annoyingly chipper motto of ‘Hi, how may I help you?” with a neatly printed smiley face.

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #kinktober with qtipcottonbuds #fnafsb #fnaf security breach masterlist #fnafsb smut #fnaf smut #fnaf daycare attendant #moondrop fnaf #fnaf moon #sundrop fnaf #fnaf sun #sun x gender neutral reader #sun x male reader #sun x female reader #moon x gender neutral reader #moon x male reader #moon x female reader #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral insert #x gender neutral reader #x female reader #x male reader #fnaf security breach

[ilovelosermen69]

Girls when he does the bare minimum in fanfiction

#cod x reader #cod x male reader #call of duty modern warfare #mortal kombat x male reader #mortal kombat x reader #slasher community #slashers x reader #slashers x male reader #mk1 #moon knight x male reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #din dijarin x reader #din dijarn x male reader #the mandolorian x reader #joel miller x reader #the last of us

[dex0s]

—♡DOUMA X MALE READER WARNING: smut, non-con, cannibalism?, douma, reader having a huge chest, thoracic area called boobs/tits, daddy kink, face sitting, breeding kink, semi-public?, incest?, cliffhanger ending (only because I’m lazy), not proof read

A/N— okay I know I was gone for like 2 months but um— yeah

You were a member of his cult and your older sister got sick to the point she had to stay in bed instead of praying to your demon lord. For the past couple days you had been asking your lord to heal your sister. And at first DOUMA was uninterested or just ignored you but then he got a full look at you. (H/c) hair, beautiful bright (e/c) eyes, nice face, well shaped body, and lastly YOUR CHEST. Oh and how he was so in love.

“Oh look a new play thing. Just. For. Me~ and ONLY me~”

After that you notice changes. One, Douma would ONLY look at you if you in the room but the moment you leave his face becomes disinterested (even if he doesn’t have emotions he feels like his life just decrease by a life time). Two, you ALWAYS feel like you’re being watched no matter what you doing or where you are, there are always RAINBOW EYES watching. And three, when you go and pray to your lord you can notice the lust in his eyes like a predator eyeing their next meal.

“I can’t believe I haven’t noticed you sooner… I wonder if that man will let me keep you~ who know maybe I will quit bugging him~”

Knowing damn well that man can hear him

One time you went to douma and asked for his blessing so your sister could get better and by pure coincidence your sister gotten better and could move around better then before. You thanked douma for the blessing but even tho it was a complete coincidence douma wanted more than just a thanks. He gave you his blessing and healed your sister. He wants more and he will get want he wants whether you want it or not .

HaAh~ Oh you tastes Sooo~ good~ Your so good—Fuck! for daddy~

Grinding your hips into the pillow while Douma is thrusting in and out your ass. “Ahh~ you look like dog when you do that~” Douma said, moving his hand up your body and stopping at your chest. “W-wait~AH!” Slamming his cock back in he starts to grope your chest. “Hmm! What a— good boy you are, so good— for daddy” you start to feel yourself about to release and you try to warn your lord but all that came out was babbles. Douma seem to notice this and started to go even harder on you hearing your gummy walls take him in and out and all the noise you were making made him even more hard then white sticky cum came out your dick but that didn’t stop Douma in fact he decided to switch it up a lot bit.

He lifts you over his face, your legs are shaking then slams you down on his face. Taking his long slimy tongue starting with kitty licks, suddenly roughly gripping your thighs and full on eating your ass like there’s no tomorrow. When the door opens (you didn’t even notice at first) it reveals your sister. Your sister was in shock, she didn’t know you had a side like this. Hearing your moans and the licks your sister can feel a wet spot in her undergarment. While your sister was standing there Douma could smell her wetness and started to get upset.

“Why is she here.”

“She needs to leave can’t she see I’m playing with my plaything.”

“It’s her fault he’s in this situation”

“She shouldn’t be so selfish and get sick”

“You know what… It’s show time”

Taking out his tongue from your ass, he moves you to his lap. Picking you up with your legs wrapped around his waist Douma starts to walk to your sister. “You know it’s rude to stare” using one of his free hands and roughly grabbing your sister’s chin forcing her to look at his rainbow eyes. “W-what are you doing to my brother!” Yelled out your sister that was trying to force Douma’s hand off of her and trying to reach for you, when Douma grabs the hand that was reaching for you and pulling it off her body. Finally snapping out the trance you hear a bloody cuddling scream. Turning your head around to see your sister on the ground clutching her shoulder but before you can say anything you were placed on the ground on all fours in front of your sister.

“Why don’t we put a show on for your sister~ hmm dear~”

#douma x reader #douma x male reader #male reader #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x male reader #douma smut #upper moons #sub male reader #uke male reader #bottom male reader #male reader smut #smut #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere

[moonit3]

THE BEST ROOMMATE

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, sex ;), amab genitalia (yandere), dom and soft! yandere, reader doesn’t have a gender but is the submissive one (you know, the one taking it), oversimulation, reader is horny and shameless (also a perv), virgin yandere, pillow humping, soft at first but then hard, very implied pregnancy reference.

➥ yandere! male roommate x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: he loses his virginity to you, his roommate who he had been crush on.

➥ a/n: a work that took me a little extra time to finish ^o^, but here it is and this time with dominic, a lovely boy who is willingly to help you satisfy yourself over and over.

➥ dominic never thought to ended in this situation. not in a millions years, he expected to lose his virginity to his hot roommate that everyone wants to be with. in fact, he hasn’t accepted that he is no longer a virgin despite seeing how dirty and wet the bed has become due to his and yours fluids… yet the memories still so fresh in his mind.

➥ it’s happened just a few hours ago, he came home early after work (his boss let him have a week free after being announced as the employee of the month). at first, everything was quiet and he couldn’t find you anywhere, so he initially thought that you have gone out. however, he heard smalls sounds coming out of your bedroom and his curiosity got the bed of him, then he got a small glimpse of what you are doing by yourself there and well, you got him fully blushed.

➥ with a pillow between your legs, you are humping it. whimpers and moans escape your lips as the pillow case barely manages to contain the immense amount of fluids around your thighs. and to make things even interesting, you are moaning his name between sobs, like you are desperate for his touch.

➥ his first touch was to step away, like a normal person would do, but his hand was faster and open your bedroom’s door, revealing that dominic was watching you pleasing yourself for a while. he expected you to yell, be embarrassed or even cry of shame, but no, you simply smiled at him and asked if he wanted to join. what?!

➥ he wanted to leave, but the tent growing up in his pant is getting large and so, he step closer to and got between your thighs, putting both your legs above his shoulders. shyly, the brunet teased your entrance with one finger and your body shaken a little, letting even more cum over the bed as begs escape your lips, just put it in! I want to feel you, dom!

➥ but he didn’t, instead, he put another finger inside your entrance and began teasing the insides of your warm hole. not really having a clue what to do, he uses his fingertips to touch your walls and to feel the wetness that is growing inside you, is he making you feel that good? his suspicions are correct as you barely can speak, only moans are coming out of your mouth as you guide one of his hand to your chest, letting him pinch one of your nipples.

➥ this continues for a while until he couldn’t hold more and took his pants off, revealing his member hard and already leaking so much! the sizes scares you initially. how is that supposed to be inside you? it’s not going to fit, but you aren’t someone to give up easily, so you ask dominic to go slow in the beginning in order to accommodate his cock and to let him feel.

➥ with moans, a little of awkwardness and both hands strongly holding your hips (it will leave bruises!), he gets inside you. feeling every inch of your walls with his cock is so magical, it’s better than his friends told him or what porn made him believe, he is so lucky to have a good roommate like you! and as promised, he starts slowly and delicate, enjoying how your body shakes and trembles to make up for his size and how you can only speak his name like a broken record.

➥ for minutes, he went slowly to make sure you would ready to the next part and when you said that you were more than ready to him go faster, dominic didn’t hold back. the fast and harsh thrusts make your body react in a way you never thought it would be possible, more and more fluid coming out of you and you can’t even moan with his lips on yours. where did he get so much energy? you don’t know, but don’t question him as he just keep going.

➥ and after minutes of it, dominic warns you that he is getting closer, asking if he could come inside you just this time, just to experience how it’s feel. you never let any of your previous partners coming inside you, too scared to lead it to an unexpected surprise, but his pleading change your mind. with your consent, he comes inside you and fill your inside with his white liquid, and of course, some of his cum mixed with yours from previous orgasms.

➥ you are a completely mess now. marks, handprints, cum and swear all over the two of you, he was quite excited, wasn’t he? the cutest smile is on his face now with tears dropping from his eyes, saying that he so happy to have lost his virginity to someone like you, someone important and that he wants to be with for the rest of his life, so he asks you to be his partner. what an adorable guy! and since he made you feel so good, you accepted it.

➥ “I promise to make you the happiest person in the world, [name]!”

➥ what a sweet guy! now your exhaustion has catch up, making you fall asleep in his arms. don’t worry, dominic will take care of you, but he just need to cuddle with you for a moment.

@moonit3 writings

#yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere original character #original character x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere male x reader #yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere #yandere x gender neutral reader #my oc dominic #yandere writing #yandere smut #yandere headcanons #tw smut #tw yandere #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

[iconicstoner]

love bites & apologies

gn!reader x jasper hale

words: 1960

summary: when Jasper accidentally leaves marks on y/n’s neck after kissing them, he has to figure out how to make it up to them and their parents.

“Sugar, you are so sweet,” Jasper’s words came out like a husky southern growl, just centimeters away from your face. Slowly, his hands push through your hair as his icy lips move down your neck. He sends a chill down your spine with the feeling of his cold touch, and yet your whole body feels hot with pleasure. Just as Jasper begins to pin you down, his lips still grazing your warm neck, the sound of someone clearing their throat startles both of you. The two of you turn to face the person quickly, and embarrassment adorns your face when you realize who caught you. Jasper releases the firm grip he had on you and raises his eyebrows at the towering lean figure standing in the doorway.

“Y’know, I can hear all your thoughts, and usually that would be helpful, but I don’t want to hear,” Edward pauses to glance between the two of you, “those thoughts.” Your face flushes with embarrassment, and Jasper’s would too, if he was still capable of it.

“I’ll have you know, from the moment you met Bella, I could feel every emotion you felt about her, and that was ten times worse. Do you know how awkward it is to feel lust emitting from the house, just to find out it’s coming from your brother?” A smirk is still etched onto Jasper’s face as he finishes drawing out the words with his charming Southern accent. Edward tenses with embarrassment, and he doesn’t say anything for a long time, considering what Jasper knows. Then, as he begins to look back between the couple sprawled out on Jasper's bed, he begins to laugh.

“Why is he doing that?” you ask in a low mumble. Jasper gives Edward a look of confusion, before turning to you. The second he sees you, his face drops, no longer smirking, and he is in utter shock.

“Oh, Emmett is gonna love this,” Edward says between laughs. Before Edward even finished his sentence Emmett was standing at his side with just the mention of his name. When he looked into the room, he burst into laughter too.

“Nice one, Jasper!” Emmett exclaims as he pats Jasper’s shoulder with intense force, almost knocking Jasper, who is in a trance-like state, over. “It’s like you’re all grown up. Quite the cowboy,” He says, sarcastically. Your confusion is palpable to the brothers, but before you can even ask, Edward is pointing a small handheld mirror at you, giving you a great view of your neck. It’s almost entirely purplish-red from all the places Jasper had been kissing you. You let out a gasp that causes all laughter to cease.

“I’d love to help you,” Edward said with a smile, almost as if he was enjoying this moment, “but since Vampires don’t have blood, we don’t have this problem.” As his brothers spoke, Jasper stood to the side, continuing to look down at you with a slight horror at the mistake he made.

“We could try makeup? I know Rosalie has a ton somewhere around here,” Emmett suggests, at least trying to be helpful.

“Going home with pasty white makeup all over your neck is almost more suspicious than just letting people see the hickeys,” Edward said to Emmett playfully. “And also, curfew is in fifteen minutes, so I’d hurry home,” Edward says to you, knowing this will only be worse if you also break your curfew.

Before you’d even had time to think of a plan, Jasper was already ushering you to the car. He raced down the slick asphalt to your house in the silver Jeep. The car was completely silent the whole drive, but Jasper kept a firm grip on your thigh with his right hand. Emmett and Edward were in the back, and as you pull into the driveway, you can only hope your parents won’t kill you.

“Hold on,” Jasper says, his cool hand touches your jaw, and he leans in to give you a soft, cold, longing kiss, “just in case it’s the last time,” he mumbles into your ear as he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss.

“They can’t ground me for as long as you're alive,” you remark playfully.

“Yes, but they can ground you for as long as you’re alive,” he says, with a sweet syrupy quality to his voice. His hand slowly and delicately traces down your jaw until it's back in his atmosphere again. You crave to grab his hand or to press his skin against yours for just one last second, but you know you can’t look like this and be late. You climb out of the Jeep, step inside your house, and close the door behind you, but Jasper doesn’t take the Jeep out of park.

“What are we doing, Jasper?” Emmett questions uneasily.

“Jasper wants to know what y/n’s parents are going to feel when they see what happened,” Edward explained, already knowing what Jasper was thinking, which was helpful because Jasper would give anything not to speak right now. No one said anything for a moment, but then Jasper tensed, sitting up a little straighter. Edward slumped back, seeming almost uncomfortable by what was happening. Emmett could tell this meant that your parents had noticed, and things didn’t seem good.

“I can feel their emotions. It’s so strong that I can hardly distort them, at least not from this far.” Jasper paused after the words left his mouth, but he didn’t move. “What are they thinking, Edward?”

“I don’t want to say,” Edward said monotonously. Emmett stiffened, and for someone so hard to miss, he seemed to wash away with the tension of the moment.

“Tell me,” Jasper demanded. The brothers sat very still for a very long time before anyone spoke again. The sound of chirping crickets filled their ears, and the stars shined down on them. However, they didn't notice any of their surroundings, as they focused their attention on what was happening in your house.

“They think you’re a freak,” he paused, for what felt like centuries, before saying, “They want you two to break up.” Before Edward can continue, Jasper put the car in reverse and sped home so fast that even Edward wanted to suggest slowing down.

“What am I going to do?” Jasper asked as he opened the front door to the Cullen's house. Emmett and Edward shuffled in behind him without a word.

“You’re going to have to make it up to y/n’s parents,” Emmet advised.

“You’re going to have to make it up to y/n too,” as soon as the words escaped Edward's mouth Emmett and Jasper were staring at him, waiting for an explanation. “When I was listening to their thoughts, y/n was mad that you weren’t more careful.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Jasper said, his voice full of exasperation.

A week passes, and somehow Jasper finds himself standing next to Carlisle at your doorstep.

“Jasper, I’m surprised you asked me to do this for you,” Carlisle says quietly as he taps his stone-cold hand against your front door. “This relationship must mean a lot to you.” The door opens before their conversation continues, and they’re greeted with your father's presence. Days had passed since Jasper had gotten to see you. After what happened last week, Jasper called your house, but when your father answered, he told Jasper to never call back again. Jasper had hoped he’d be able to talk with you at school, but you anxiously avoided him, and he wasn’t looking to upset you anymore. It was the slowest week of his 160-year-old life.

“It’s great to see you. I’m Dr. Cullen, Jasper’s father. I was wondering if we could have a word?” Your father is hesitant at the question, but allows the two of them to come inside. The three of them sit at the dining table that your mother is already occupying. As they sit, Jasper nervously fumbles with his hands, worried that his plan to involve Carlisle as his ‘father’ wouldn’t work the way he hoped.

“Jasper,” you say as you walk into the kitchen, surprised to see them, “and Carlisle, what’s going on?” You make your way to the table and sit down on the far end, with Jasper on one side of you, and your father on the other. Jasper could feel the nervousness emitting from you, and it almost matched his own. He wanted to grab on to you and never let go as he took in your intoxicating scent and warm skin, but instead, he settled for inconspicuously placing a hand on your knee and hoping your family didn’t notice.

“I wanted to discuss with you all what happened last week,” Carlisle said, looking more serious than you’d ever seen him. When he said the words, almost everyone in the room had their eyes on your (no longer purple) neck. Except for Jasper, who was looking deep into your eyes as if they could heal him or ease his pain. “What Jasper did was irresponsible, and I do not condone that kind of behavior. We have both raised two very responsible, mature, and sensible kids. As disapproving as I am, what they did was not dangerous. Our children had the self-control to stop themselves before things got too out of hand. I know these kids make each other happy, and I believe we should continue to let them see each other.” Carlisle hardly gave anyone time to speak as he felt the disapproval radiate off your parents. “And if it would make you more comfortable, they don’t have to be together at my house anymore. At least not alone.” There was a long pause after Carlisle finished speaking, as if what he said compelled everyone to silence. Jasper gently squeezed your knee and glanced at you hopefully.

“I’ll agree that they continue to see each other, on the condition that they can only be alone together in public, or at our house, with the doors open, while we are home.” It might sound like a big ask, but Jasper knew how secretive and creative Edward was with Bella, and for someone so special to him, he was willing to try and be just as sneaky for you. The idea of sneaking into your bedroom late at night filled him with excitement, and he quickly thought of all the ways he could climb into your bed without your family noticing.

“I think we can agree to that,” Carlisle said with a wide smile and stood up to shake your father’s hand. Jasper smiled eagerly as he stood up, beckoning you to stand too, and wrapped you into a hug. Even if his skin was glacial, he still warmed your heart. You attempted to suppress your excited laugh as Jasper kissed your cheek.

“Hey,” your father called out disapprovingly, causing Jasper to loosen his grip around you.

“What?” you mused, “the doors are open?” Jasper tried to hide his smile in your hair as your parents let out a collective sigh.

“Don’t push it you two,” Carlisle said just loud enough for only you two to hear. He threw the two of you a knowing wink as he made his way back to the front door. Jasper smiled in a way you’d never seen before and slightly adjusted so his back was facing your parents. Gently, he leaned down to kiss you one more time. This time, he let his cold lips meet yours, and even if it was just for a second, you could feel every ounce of his love.

“See you soon, darlin’,” he said with a hushed sultry southern accent. Next time you two were together, he planned on continuing what you never got to finish.

#jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x reader #jasper cullen x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper #jasper cullen #jasper hale x you #twilight fanfiction #jasper hale x male reader #twilight new moon #jasper whitlock hale #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #jasper x reader #carlisle cullen #cullen #emmett cullen #edward cullen #twilight fandom #twilight #twilight oneshot

[odetodilfs]

How they like to get railed...

Oscar Isaac characters

A/N: This is just filth, as well as the Oscar Isaac obsession hitting me hard. Anyway, these are a bunch of Oscar Isaac characters and headcanons on how they like to be fucked, enjoy!! Characters in this list: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley, Poe Dameron, Santiago García and Miguel O'Hara.

This is obviously nsfw.

Top male reader. Sub or dom depending on the character.

Steven Grant

Steven’s preferences depend on what you want, he’ll do anything you want.

He loves it when you go gentle on him, treating him like he’s made of glass, running your hands through his hair.

You two can last hours like this, indulging on each other’s bodies, biting at each other softly.

These sessions tend to also be filled with some soft laughter and many, many praises, it’s your way of letting Steven know how much you love him, how pretty you think he is…

He whimpers a lot, he’s still unused to the amount of love you give him during these moments and every kiss is electrifying.

It’s not unusual to end up with faint scratches on your back after a session like this, he always apologizes profusely the day after but you honestly love how you make your man feel so amazing that he digs his nails into your back.

His favorite position is the good old missionary, he just loves how he gets a close look at you.

Sometimes though, he wants it rough and you give it to him. 

Here, he doesn’t whimper, instead he moans and sometimes even screams. 

As for where he wants you to cum, inside him is the go to place, he feels completely yours when you do that and loves feeling it leak out of him.

Marc Spector 

Marc is a bit of a different story, he’s more dominant over you. 

He’d love edging you with his hole, he knows how much you want to cum and he doesn’t let you, he’s slightly sadistic. 

You’re his best stress reliever, a service top is all Marc’s ever wanted. 

He’d definitely call you a “good boy” while he rides you, if you’re lucky, he lets you hold his waist. 

He looks you in the eyes a lot and very intensely, it's to assert further control on you.

His favorite position would be riding, it’s the way he can have control over you. 

But sometimes, he just wants to be fucked hard just like Steven, to fuck every thought out of his pretty little head, only this time the scratches on your back are deeper, more noticeable and redder, which is still hot…

He’s not much for foreplay, he prefers to get right into the action, he’s stressed a lot of the time and only more anticipation for him doesn’t help at all, give the man some dick please. 

He grunts a lot during sex, "Fuck yeah" he'd grunt while you pound deeply into him, knowing it's best not to stop.

He also likes sucking you off… which makes sense, considering he loves you cumming on his face while he looks at you with the most dominant and intense eyes.

Jake Lockley 

The most feral, deranged and dominant out of all the moon boys by far.

It’s not unusual for Jake to tie you up and edge you for literal hours, surrendering to him as you fill his sadistic urges.

He gets off on your begging, the fact that your cock borderline aches. 

Sometimes he doesn’t even cum, he just likes to see you weak.

Other times, all he wants to do is use you. 

His favorite position is where he rides you and he bounces furiously up and down your cock, normally with tied hands, he likes to have you vulnerable.

He wants to ride you, cum first, then you cum inside him and he leaves.

However, a lot of the time when he gets up he kisses your temple and says “good boy” before he leaves, cum running down his legs.

It makes you feel so used, like a toy almost, and you can’t act like you don’t like it. 

Poe Dameron 

Poe is the term “power bottom” personified.

He knows everything that he has to do to break you, and so he can use you for his pleasure.

That cocky little grin of his… not even while getting fucked he doesn’t have it on him.

The way he’d throw his head back and he’d say “Ahh.. fuck yeah…” while riding you.

He’s a huge fan of riding you, but sometimes he lets you fuck yourself dumb with his ass in mating press, pumping load after load into the man.

He wants to hear your pretty whimpers, nothing turns on Poe more than his top whimpering.

He’d let you indulge yourself with his body, licking and sucking everywhere, he especially loves it when you play with his nipples while he rides you.

He uses the term “good boy” for you a lot during sex. He knows it can make you crazy and submit even further to him.

He just has such an effect on you that gets you craving him, and the craving gets so pent up you have no hope of dominating the man, considering you get so subby as soon as his walls wrap around your cock.

He’d want you to cum inside him, as a sign that he owns you, a subtle reminder that even if you’re the top in the relationship.. you’re his bitch.

Santiago García 

He’s a huge switch, sex between you two is improvised, you decide who’s dominant when the time comes, normally you just fall into whatever role is natural in that specific time.

Unlike Marc, he’s all up for foreplay, he loves sex to last as long as humanly possible between you two.

He speaks Spanish if he's really needy for you, "Por favor.. por favor" and if he has an amazing orgasm, he'll scream "¡Te amo!" sometimes.

His weak spot is the scar on his neck, it’s the one spot that when you kiss makes him instantly yours.

It’s amazing for him, for some time, he can let go of everything haunting him and he can focus on just you and your dick in him.

He used to be very big on doggystyle but his knees have gotten worse with the years, so it’s only a rare occurrence, but he’s found a new muse: cuddlefucking. 

His orgasms are always so strong when he’s with you, and he clenches so tightly around you. 

When he decides to be dominant, he almost talks you through it and he gives you a look that makes you only more and more obedient with each thrust…

When he decides to be submissive, he has a similar air to Steven, it’s very touchy sex where you wrap your arms around him.

His neck is the best place to kiss while you fuck him, and the vibration of his whimpers on you just tops it off, you love making your man feel good.

The cuddling normally gets you too lazy to pull out, so you cum inside, however sometimes he likes to swallow your load.

Miguel O’Hara 

(I know he’s not REALLY an Oscar Isaac character, but he’s voiced by him and Oscar seems to like him a lot so I guess he’s part of the gang now)

Poor little baby needs his stress to be pounded out of his pretty head.

He’s the biggest fan of rough sex, it’s rare you two have a soft session the whole time. But not like you mind, you love seeing him weak while you fuck him into oblivion.

Miguel’s prostate is extremely sensitive, which leads to him grunting loudly and screaming if you’re in private. 

He’s submissive most of the time, having someone else have to take control is a stress reliever for him, but he can power bottom sometimes.

It’s not hard to make him go cock drunk, especially after heavy teasing. He just wants to be mercilessly pounded by you.

He’s very sensitive in his nipples too, he can cum from stimulation there alone…

His favorite position is mating press, you just overpower him so gracefully.

When he’s a power bottom, he rides you in reverse cowgirl, he knows how crazy you are for his ass and feeds into that.

He loves it when you cum inside him, he feels like he’s yours when you do that. Sometimes, he even plugs his ass so he can keep inside of him.

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #steven grant #steven grant x male reader #marc spector #marc spector x male reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x male reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x male reader #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x male reader #atsv #triple frontier #star wars #moon knight #top male reader #x male reader

[monstersandmaw]

Male kelpie (dad-bod, single father, biker) x plus size f. reader - Part One (sfw)

Background info post on the Full Moon Motorcycles group here Oats Appreciation post here

Featuring a plus-size, bisexual, not very confident reader, and a divorced, Scottish, single-dad, biker kelpie with a soft-dad bod and a heart as big as his bike’s engine (possibly bigger).

CW: there is a very brief moment where a character (not Oats!) insults the reader for her size and uses some fat-phobic language towards and about her, unaware that she can hear him. If you’re sensitive to that, it is brief, but you can skip from “…you caught the conversation drifting over from the other guys who’d arrived just ahead of you.” to the paragraph beginning, “After some deep breaths and a check in the mirror…”. Also, if you squint, there’s a passing moment that could possibly be interpreted as the reader having some potential issues with food, but it’s not intended to be a big deal and it’s only for about two sentences. Still putting it in here too, just in case. 

Wordcount: 7562

You pushed open the glass door of Full Moon Motorcycles and willed yourself not to feel self-conscious or out of place.

Having both an older brother and a mother who rode motorbikes had at least given you a fair bit of familiarity with bikes and the general ‘biker culture’, but it was mostly the fact that almost all the ‘biker girls’ you saw posing on social media were slim and toned, which you were decidedly not.

From the utterly foetid takes in the comments section of the one post your brother had shared on his page with you in it, you’d also got the impression that the biker community was not particularly kind to any woman with a waist over 25 inches. It probably wasn’t the case, but your one experience with it had been enough to make you very wary.

And yet, as you made your way towards the bike shop’s counter and the older man with floppy, greying hair and warm brown eyes looked up, you were greeted with an open, welcoming smile.

“Hi there,” he said, standing up with a grunt from the comfy chair where he’d been sitting in the corner near the shop’s antique cash register. “What can I do for you?”

You smiled shyly and glanced along the wooden countertop before returning your gaze to him. “I’m looking for a present for my brother, but I’m kind of on a budget…”

“Gotcha. We’ve got some silly key fobs there,” he said, indicating a rotating display rack at one end of the counter, with mottoes that ranged from funny to explicit, “But if they like working on their bike themselves, you can’t go wrong with some maintenance supplies… Not the most glamorous but I promise they’ll be grateful to you all the same.”

“Could always tie a festive ribbon round it,” you said, and he chuckled and nodded.

“That’s the spirit.”

You eyed the reasonable price of the fobs with some relief, and then followed his gesture towards the various bottles of chain degreaser and the like, and a few other useful tools and kits that were stacked on shelves on the back wall to the right of a door that presumably led into the back and store rooms.

The right hand side of the shop had the counter and some shiny, new bikes that had been parked in a row around the perimeter of the space, and the left hand side was more open with a bench or two against the brick walls, and some red, mechanics’ tool-chests tucked against the back wall. A number of leather two- and one-piece suits hung in racks at the furthest end though, with helmets on shelves and a few rows of t-shirts, jeans, gloves, and boots displayed too. There were oil stains in the centre of the polished concrete floor, and you suspected that tinkering took place there outside of the shop’s usual opening hours.

The whole vibe of Full Moon Motorcycles was friendly and cosy, with a slightly industrial, grungy note for some flavour.

In short, you loved it.

“There are also some fun helmet covers –” the older man chuckled, and added, “A number of the regulars here have them, and there are also some earplugs, or perhaps a tough phone case and mount? A chain care kit? There are some vinyl stickers too, and t-shirts, socks, neck warmers, balaclavas, mugs, helmet care kits, thermals…”

Laughing, you held up your hands for him to stop, and he started to chuckle too.

“I’ll let you browse in peace, sweetheart,” he said, his whisky brown eyes twinkling. Even his un-looked-for endearment came across as kindly instead of creepy, and not many men could pull that off. “You just holler if you have questions and I’ll be happy to –”

The door opened behind you and he broke off as his attention was snagged by the arrival of a heavy-set guy in dark jeans and a softly-worn, black leather jacket. He held a black helmet with a tinted visor in his large hands, and he looked more than a little wind-blown and rumpled.

Incongruous with his rather roguish-dishevelment, a lock of his long, thick, slightly grizzled, black hair was held back by a little hair-clip with a Barbie-pink, fabric bow. It didn’t fit with the dark scruff of stubble on his jaw or the piercing green-blue eyes at all, but he seemed completely unfazed by its presence.

“Oats!” the older man exclaimed with obvious joy, clapping his hands. “It’s been a while, my boy! How was the trip to Scotland? You make it round the NC500 this time?”

The ‘boy’ looked to be in his mid to late thirties…

“Ach, no’ a chance this time, Hank,” the man chuckled with a heavy, Scottish accent lacing his rich, rough baritone. Exactly where in Scotland he was from, you couldn’t tell, but it was lyrical and attractive all the same.

“Ah, next time, next time. And is Natalie well?

“Oh aye, my wee Loch Ness Monster is doing just fine. She’ll be terrorising her mother for the Christmas holidays. I came straight from the road though — clutch started playing up just south of Birmingham.” He grimaced, but even that looked charming somehow. “Sort of hoped you might find a minute to take a look at it for me if I left the Old Girl here. No rush though.”

“No problem, Oats. We’ll get her running properly again in no time. Bet you’re missing little Natalie already,” Hank added sympathetically.

“Ah, you have no idea,” the man, peculiarly-named ‘Oats’, sighed ruefully, shaking his head.

“See she left you with a parting gift though,” Hank snorted, pointing at the bow hair clip.

With a slight frown to his dark eyebrows, Oats reached up and patted at his head until he found it, and then he laughed. It was a loud, delighted, full-bellied sound that reverberated through the space while it lasted, and he left the hair clip where it was with no trace of self-consciousness as he lowered his hand again. “Aye, that she did. Surprised it survived the journey down with my lid on and everything. Oh –” His unusually pale green eyes landed on you, watching him and lurking near the rows of t-shirts on the back wall, and he went still.

Those sea-grey eyes raked you up and down, clearly noting the way your black leggings clung to the curves of your thighs and hips, and the black hoodie, which maybe went some way to hiding the softness of your stomach a bit, and he swallowed visibly. He looked… hungry. That was not the usual reaction you had grown accustomed to from men, and you let the flare of heat lick up your insides for just a moment, daring to hope that maybe he did find you attractive.

“Sorry,” he said in your direction, with a soft, dusky smile. “Didnae mean t’interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” you managed to croak back at him before returning your attention, however reluctantly, to present options for your brother while the older man, Hank, hobbled out around the corner of the wooden counter to chat amicably with the man. You couldn’t hear what was said as the two chatted in lower voices, but it was evident that they were good friends. While they talked, however, you couldn’t help noticing that he stole occasional sidelong glances in your direction, and you felt your face warm pleasantly.

‘Oats’ was certainly an unusual nickname, but then again, almost everyone who rode with your brother also had their own nicknames for one reason or another. As you browsed, you wondered what Oats had done to earn that one. He certainly looked like a snack to you, but you vowed not to let your attraction to the stranger show. Awkward situations (or worse, silences) tended to arise when you let that happen.

He had a tanned, outdoorsy complexion, and longish, black hair that was tied back in a low ponytail that brushed below the collar of his black leather jacket. It looked like it had a tendency to flop into his face when not restrained by that out-of-place pink bow. He filled out the jacket very well, and clearly had a soft paunch, and his thighs looked frankly delectable in those thick, indigo jeans. You prayed you wouldn’t have to see him fully from the back if he turned around, to witness the way he filled out the seat of his jeans too.

Fuck. Concentrate.

Bike gifts for brother, not delicious-looking stranger you’re never going to see again.

“Well, I shouldnae hang about, I suppose.”

Oats’ voice cut through your musings in front of chain degreasers and you jumped a little. Glancing back over at him, you offered him a smile when he too turned to look at you one last time, and a slow, charming smile crept onto his handsome face.

“See you,” he said with a dip of his head. Before he strode from the shop though, he let his eyes roam once more down the length of you and he bit his lower lip, almost regretfully, then turned away abruptly.

Oh yes. He absolutely did fill out the ass of those jeans beautifully.

Quite honestly, you weren’t totally sure what you ended up getting your brother for his birthday. You took whatever it was to the counter in a daze, your mind replaying over and over the way he’d looked at you.

“Must say,” Hank said conspiratorially as he fished your change from the antique cash register and slid it across the polished, wooden counter towards you. “I’ve never seen Oats quite so taken with someone, miss.” He chuckled, his kind, whisky-brown eyes glinting. “You take care now.”

Swallowing, you nodded and left the shop, hoping perhaps to find Oats waiting for you outside on the street, leaning against his motorcycle, but life was not a movie, and wherever he was, he was not lingering in the hopes of seeing you. In fact, the street was completely deserted, so you crossed, clambered into your little hatchback, and drove home with the feeling that you’d let a pivotal moment in your life pass you by.

Your sour mood persisted like a raincloud for the whole week, but by the time you were driving over to your brother’s on Saturday for his birthday ride, you were trying to pull yourself out of it. You had your own helmet with you, secured in the back of the car, and beside it was (now wrapped) the present you’d got him. In fact, it was a chain care kit, and, although you hadn’t noticed at the time, Hank had thrown in a free keychain that said ‘In my defence, I was left unsupervised’ which was very on-brand for your brother. You had planned to go back and thank him for the freebie as soon as you could, but your brother’s birthday ride had been planned for that Saturday, and work had been hell that week, so you’d not had the chance.

Predictably, Alex wasn’t in the house when you rang the doorbell, so you followed the sound of metallic clinking and laughter, and went round the side to find him tinkering with his mad little Honda Grom in the garage, while his two best mates — Eggs and Sparky — were lounging around and either making unhelpful suggestions or lewd comments.

“Yo!” Sparky grinned when he saw you, sitting up straighter and almost falling off the mechanic’s tool chest he was leaning his weight against. At Sparky’s exclamation, your brother sat up and banged his head on the handlebars of the short little Grom with a curse.

“Hey,” you mumbled in Sparky’s general direction. “Happy birthday, Alex.”

Alex scrambled upright and came over to hug you, probably smearing grease and dirt all over your armoured jacket, but since it was black anyway, you didn’t mind too much. Alex was about as opposite to you as it was possible to get — straight up and down like a beanpole, and tall. You took after your mother, inheriting all her thick curves and soft edges. Soft heart too.

“Thought this might come in handy,” you mumbled when Alex released you and you held out the brown paper bag stamped with the logo of Full Moon Motorcycles.

His eyes lit up when he saw the logo, and he tore into it like a chipmunk after a peanut, grinning in delight when he’d dismembered it, and in particular he showed off the keychain to his mates. Eggs snatched it and tried to claim it for himself, but Alex was having none of it, and the three of them scrapped and goofed around while you sat down on an old, metal stool in the corner and waited for the other two of your small party to show up, with a cool, curdling kind of dread in the pit of your stomach when you heard one name in particular. Nooner.

Within an hour though, you were all out on the road.

You took the pillion seat behind Alex, and warded his mates off at red lights when they came for his killswitch to immobilise him. A while later though, Alex zoomed off down the open road that would take you all out of town and towards the somewhat famous biker cafe, ‘Elusive Neutral’, that sat nestled amongst the fragrant heather of the rolling hills surrounding the old market town.

The sky was a gorgeous, autumnal blue and the weather was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold, and as your brother’s Yamaha flew along the winding A-road that was every biker’s dream, you cracked a smile and gently tipped your head back. As much as it had scared you when you’d first ridden behind your mother all those years ago, you did love the feeling of being out on a bike. Not that you were actually brave enough to want to try and learn yourself though. Something always held you back, made you wary and unsure, and then you inevitably felt down about that too. God, you wished you had Alex’s wild confidence.

Nothing good ever seemed to last for you though, and when Alex’s R1 had purred into the car park behind Eggs and Sparky, and you’d hopped off to let him reverse more easily into a space, you caught the conversation drifting over from the other guys who’d arrived just ahead of you.

“…if he didn’t have his fat sister with him, we could have fucking ripped it up along those twisties.” That, of course, had come from Nooner, named for the fact that he rarely stuck to two wheels and always pulled wheelies, or ‘nones’, whenever he got the chance. Out of all of your brother’s friends, he was the one you liked the least, for… obvious reasons.

“Talk about killing the vibes, huh?” Eggs replied, trying to suck up to him, as ever. “More like ‘crushing’!”

The reason Eggs had earned his nickname was that he’d lost a bet and shaved his head when they’d all been about sixteen, and he’d looked like a boiled egg til it grew back. You wished you had the sass to remind him of that every time his spine seemed to crumble in favour of earning a half-hearted snicker out of Nooner.

When Alex joined you, he caught the crestfallen expression on your face and frowned, but you shook your head and walked away from them, heading for the cafe alone.

“Can’t wait to shove some cake in her fat gob already,” Nooner added as an aside to Eggs, and your vision blurred as tears welled along your lashes. Why did people have to be so cruel? To trample all over someone else just to feel a little taller themselves?

You vaguely heard what sounded like Sparky’s voice countering the comment, but you didn't stick around either way. If you mentioned it to your brother again, he’d just say it was banter with the guys and not to take it to heart. Easy for someone who's never been on the end of that kind of comment to shrug it off, after all.

You ducked straight for the toilets when you got inside the airy, modern cafe, not even bothering to look around or find a table first.

After some deep breaths and a check in the mirror to see that you hadn’t turned your eyeliner into a panda cosplay, you headed out again and made for the little bar that doubled as a counter for people who were there solo to sit and eat instead of taking up a whole table to themselves. None of your brother’s friends joined you, and when you glanced back over your shoulder, you saw that they’d settled themselves around a table in the far corner and already had a number for a server to bring their food order over. They hadn’t even waited for you.

“Fuck them,” you hissed through gritted teeth, taking a seat at the bar instead. The stools were made of old tractor seats, and they were surprisingly comfortable, and as you leaned your forearms on the countertop, the young woman behind the counter came over to you with a smile that made you feel a little better.

“Hey,” she said. “What can I get for you?”

You ordered a hot drink, and then took out your phone while you waited for her to make it for you.

For half an hour or so, you sat scrolling through social media and sipping your drink and telling yourself this was your brother’s day and not yours. He did come over a couple of times, but you declined to sit with his friends, and because he’d never had any real reason to doubt you before, he took you at your word when you told him you were happy enough where you were. “I don’t want to get in the way,” you said, and he believed you.

Patting you on the shoulder, he left you for the third time, and you looked down into the dregs of your drink with a heavy sigh. “This sucks.”

Outside, the sound of more bikes arriving made your ears perk up, and you wondered idly what they rode. Elusive Neutral had once been an old cattle barn, but it had been completely redone and the walls on two sides had been replaced with vast picture windows that showed the sweeping expanse of moorland beyond, and a small sliver of the car park at one end. Craning your neck, you saw a group of maybe five or six bikers draw up, some on hipster looking cafe racers and others on racy sports bikes. There was even a Ducati Panigale among them, and behind them followed an old, battered, blue pickup truck.

The door opened a little while later, and you glanced over, eyes drawn instinctively by the movement.

Above the general chatter and merry chinking of china in the room, the energy of the new group of bikers rose like a cloud of dizzy mayflies; buzzing and excited and full of joy. You watched them all with interest from your perch at the counter.

The first through the door was an absolute Amazon of a woman, with her long black hair restrained in a thick braid, and shoulders the width of a barn door. She was lean and tall, and in her biker gear she looked… incredible. Her face was strikingly handsome, but until she glanced down at the woman walking beside her, her features were hard and glowering and unspeakably stern. She held the door open for one of the others to follow her inside, but when she locked eyes again with the brunette by her side, her whole expression melted into unguarded adoration. Your gut twisted briefly with jealousy.

It wouldn’t matter to you who looked at you like that, if only someone would.

You looked away, and by the time you glanced back at the bikers, the whole group had filed in from outside. There was a guy with golden-brown skin and beautiful dark brown eyes who had his arm wrapped possessively around the waist of a pale, skinny guy in black jeans and a moth-eaten, black jumper, with his long hair tied back in a bun, and behind them came a strikingly attractive guy in a manual wheelchair, flanked by a very short biker with slightly anaemic looking skin. You wondered fleetingly if the guy in the wheelchair had ridden a motorbike there, and if so how, before you realised he was probably the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, with long, flowing red hair and dark green eyes, and the kind of mouth that was made for laughing, and for kissing.

Jesus, was it an unwritten rule of being a biker that you had to be unfairly attractive? Even Hank, who you recognised with a start of surprise coming in behind the guy with red hair, wasn’t unattractive, in a bulky, older man kind of way.

The guy walking with him though… he truly made your stomach swoop.

It was Oats.

You looked away before he could spot you, sitting alone at the bar like some pathetic creature waiting for cocktail hour to begin. It was lunchtime on a sunny, autumnal Saturday though, and there you were sitting alone because you didn’t fancy sitting with your brother’s loser mates.

God, the way Oats had looked in his tough-looking leather jacket, with his eyes crinkled mid-laugh at something the guy in the wheelchair had shot back at them over his shoulder… You bit your lip and stared into the bottom of your cold, empty mug like it would divine some kind of solution to your situation for you.

The new group didn’t seem to notice you while they filed up to the counter, jostling and joking, and when they drifted off to another corner of the cafe, you turned back to your phone, trying desperately to resist the almost overwhelming urge to keep turning over your shoulder to watch them.

Before too long however, you startled at a soft tap on your shoulder, and you looked around to find Oats himself stepping back to a polite distance and smiling down at you like he’d found a treasure in an unexpected place.

“Hey there,” he said in that rolling, Scottish accent that did unspeakably indecent things to your insides. “Sorry if I’m intruding, but you were at Full Moon last week, right?”

Mute for a moment, you nodded, and mustered up a slightly dazed smile for him.

“You… here alone?” he asked, eyeing the currently-empty seats to your left and right. In fact, someone had only just gathered up their belongings and left.

“Kind of?” you croaked, letting your eyes slide over to the table where your brother and his friends were hunched over one of their phones, snickering at something. “It’s… It’s my brother’s birthday today. I… tagged along as pillion, but… you know… I’m kind of a spare part really.”

At that, Oats’ dark eyebrows knitted into a scowl and he looked across the room at them before returning his attention to you. Then, his unearthly, almost prismatic, silver-green eyes took in your empty cup and he grinned. “Can I get y’a top up?”

Your instinct was to refuse, but you bit your lip. This didn’t feel real. A cute, handsome, courteous guy was actually taking an interest in you.

“Sure. Thank you.” And the smile that spread itself across your face telegraphed your delight in a way that was impossible to disguise with any kind of suave grace.

Oats, however, seemed equally delighted, and nodded. The barista came back over and he leaned his weight on the counter to talk to her. He seemed to have that enviably easy manner with everybody, and he even charmed a free slice of cake out of her too with what felt like no effort at all.

“Chocolate? Or something else?” he asked you.

“Pardon?”

“Cake.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” you said, but he frowned.

“You sure? I’m gonna have a bit of their chocolate cake. It’s so good, it’s practically a sin.”

“I…” you faltered.

He didn’t pressure you though and shrugged easily, turning back to the barista. “Gimme two forks with that, love. Just in case.”

“No problem,” she beamed back while she bustled about, and Oats eyed the empty bar stool next to yours.

“May I?”

You swallowed your nerves and nodded. “Please.” And then, because apparently a demon of confidence had temporarily possessed you, you eyed his slightly helmet-flattened forelock and said, “No pink hair clips today?”

He guffawed loudly enough that your brother actually glanced over and frowned when he saw you talking with a stranger.

Oats snorted and shook his head. “No, not today. My daughter is still up in Scotland with her mother.” He fixed you with a more serious look and said, “She and I divorced, before you get the wrong idea about me flirting like this with a beautiful woman.”

The compliment caught you so off-guard that you just froze for a moment, but when the heat of a blush filled your face, you looked away and he chuckled.

“I’m not normally so forward, but I’ve been kicking myself for not talking to you when I first saw you in Full Moon. Hank was telling me just this morning what a muppet I’d made of myself for walking away like that.”

You looked behind you at the group of his friends and then turned back to him. “Won’t they think you’re being rude, ignoring them like this?”

He shook his head and smiled. “They’re probably all taking bets on how quickly you’ll shoot me down.”

“What? I’d have to be an idiot to do that.”

At that, his face split into a huge, handsome grin and he shook his head just a little. “Lucky me,” he said. “You ride?” he added, eyeing your jacket that was obviously a motorcycle jacket.

You shrugged. “Pillion. I’ve never ridden myself, but my brother lets me come out with him sometimes.”

Oats nodded, and then, as the barista set down his coffee, your top-up, and the plate of decadent chocolate cake with two forks, he said, “I’m Euan, by the way, but everyone calls me Oats.”

You introduced yourself, and then said, “Oats?”

He snorted and nodded. “Not the worst nickname, for sure.”

“Can I ask where it came from?”

Oats nodded and shunted the plate towards you first before leaning his elbow on the bar and watching you while he spoke. “I think it’s because I’m a dad, but I’m always prepared for most situations, and when it comes to my Natalie, she’s always hungry. I’ve usually got about a thousand granola bars stashed away about my person —” he said, cutting himself off to pat conspicuously at his jacket pockets. Pulling a slightly dog-eared crunchy bar from his breast pocket, he wielded it like a magic wand at you and said, “Case in point.”

“Hence, Oats,” you said, eyeing the healthy brand name on the packet.

“Exactly. Like I said, it could be worse. See the tall lass over there with the dangerous scowl?”

You didn't need to turn around to know which of his friends he was talking about, but you did anyway. “Yeah.”

“We call her Pixie.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” he chuckled, stowing the granola bar back into his pocket and taking a huge scoop of the chocolate cake with his own fork.

“What do you ride then?” you asked.

“Triumph Bonneville T120,” he said with almost exactly the same intonation and fondness as he’d just said ‘because I’m a dad’, and you couldn’t help smiling. “Can’t be doing with all these glitzy sports bikes and the like,” he added with a laugh, setting his fork down and blinking slowly. His lashes, you noticed, were thick and dark and enticingly long.

Laughing, you smiled. “Don’t say that too loudly — my brother rides an R1.”

“Nice,” Oats grinned back. “But nothing could entice me away from my girl.”

“I’m surprised you’re here, flirting with me then,” you said. Evidently that confidence demon was still lurking.

Again, Oats laughed, though it was more of a low whicker this time, and it rolled right through you and lit you up all over. God, how long had it been since someone had laughed like that for you?

“There are… exceptions,” he said in a rumbling murmur. “Tell me about yourself?” he asked, and you did.

You spent the next hour at least talking in an easy back and forth with him while he charmed a few more refills from the barista and a lot of answers out of you, before one of his friends sidled up shyly and waited for a lull in your conversation.

“Sorry to butt in,” the small, unbelievably beautiful woman said. She was the one who’d been on the receiving end of the adoring look from the Amazon, ‘Pixie’. She had chocolate-brown hair falling in thick ringlets around a gorgeous face, and, you were pleased to note, she had wide hips and a softness to her that a lot of the biker chicks you’d seen online didn’t have.

“Coco,” Oats beamed. “Meet my new friend.” He introduced you by name, and Coco smiled at you, holding out her hand.

When your palms connected, you felt a warmth rush through you and you felt like your heart skipped a beat. The feeling like you could tip forwards and drown in her endless, dark brown eyes almost unseated you, but she let go of you and stepped back with a pretty smile on her Cupid’s-bow lips. “Pleasure to meet you. Just wanted to tell Oats that we’re thinking of heading off soon. Ariel has a photoshoot he wants to get to in an hour or so, and Demon’s keen to get going as well.”

Oats nodded, and you tried not to let your stomach drop down to your boots at the thought of all this coming to such an abrupt end.

Coco turned her head sharply to look at you just as the feeling hit, and she smiled faintly. “You could always stay here though, Oats,” she added with a pretty smile. “We’re only going back to Full Moon, and Demon clearly has no intention of lingering there…” She shot a meaningful glance back at their table. Demon, the guy with dark hair and tanned skin, was seated with the guy he’d entered with now draped in his lap, his skinny legs dangling as he sprawled languidly back against the guy’s muscular chest. Demon whispered something into his ear before he clearly bit the shell of his boyfriend’s ear, which made him sit abruptly upright and flush a vibrant pink.

Oats laughed again and shook his head. “Fuck me,” he chuckled privately. “Never thought I’d see the day. You guys go on. I’m… I’m very much content here.”

“I can see that,” Coco smirked, and walked away.

When she was out of earshot, you turned to Oats with a hot flush of your own in your face and said, “Don’t stay if you don’t want to… I’m sure my brother will be leaving soon anyway…”

Just as you said that, and before Oats could reply, Alex reappeared at your side and jutted his chin in Oats’ direction. “You good?” he chirped at you.

“Fine,” you replied. “This is Oats. I met him at Full Moon Motorcycles when I was buying your birthday present.”

“Oh,” Alex replied, holding out his hand for Oats to shake. “Good to meet you, man. You tell her what to get for me? If you did, it was a good choice.”

“No,” Oats said carefully, his grey-green eyes sliding back to your face even while he shook your brother’s hand amicably. “No, whatever she got you, it was all her.”

“Oh, cool,” Alex said. “Listen, sis, we’re gonna hit the road in a while. Nooner and Eggs want to hit the twisties for a bit, but I can’t really do that with a backpack, so Sparky said he’d give you a ride home, if that’s ok.”

You swallowed. “Um…”

“I can give her a lift,” Oats replied after a swift glance in your direction. “She’s already got her own lid, and there’s room on the Bobber’s double seat for both of us.”

“I don’t know, man,” Alex said with a wary frown.

“Your choice,” Oats shrugged easily, looking at you and holding his hands up just a little.

For a fleeting moment, you weren’t sure, but the idea of wrapping your arms around Oats’ thick middle and sitting astride his gorgeous bike kind of decided it for you. Besides, it was a long time since you’d done anything truly just for yourself; simply because you wanted to. You nodded at your brother. “It’s fine. You go ahead.”

“You sure?”

Nodding to reassure him, you smiled again and Alex backed up a pace. “Cool. Text me later, ok?” he said as he retreated towards his friends, clearly trying to hide his excitement at not having a passenger for the great, twisting section of A-road they were heading for.

“Will do. Have fun, and don’t crash!” you called after him. “Or get a speeding ticket!”

He waved a hand over one shoulder without looking back, and you laughed and returned your attention to Oats. “Brothers.”

“Bikers,” he replied. “You try telling that to any of that lot though —” he gestured towards his own group of friends who were now filtering out of the door. “You ready to head out too or do you want to stay?”

You did want to stay, but the seat wasn’t that comfortable anymore, and you wanted to move around a bit. “No, I’m good to go,” you said and prepared to slide off the stool, but Oats stepped down first and held out his hand to you. You didn't need helping down, and his playful little smirk told you he knew as much, so you rode out the last of that demonic possession and let your fingers slide across his palm and he steadied you off the stool.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Pleasure.”

You picked up your helmet from where you’d stowed it on the floor at your feet and straightened to find him waving casually across the room to the good-looking guy with the ethereally pretty boyfriend. Before he stepped away from you and made towards the door though, you cleared your throat and said, “Oats?”

“Mn?” Looking down at you, his entire attention honed in on you, like you were the centre of the universe, and you swallowed back a sudden welling of emotion.

“Listen… Thank you… for… coming over to me today. Like I said, it’s my brother’s birthday, and he was here with his friends, and he only included me so I didn’t feel completely left out, but…” Accursed tears washed over your eyes for a moment but you blinked them away furiously and ploughed on regardless. “I’m really glad I came along today anyway,” you finished rather pathetically.

His full, beautiful lips curled into a gentle smile and he blinked softly and exhaled. When he spoke, his voice was low and his words private, as though you weren’t standing in a busy cafe surrounded by people and the cheerful clatter of coffee cups and laughter. “I’m really glad I did too. I wasn’t going to, you know? I was going to stay at home and edit a boatload of raw photographs for a client, but Demon convinced me to come out. I guess I owe him.”

“‘Demon’? For… For the speed?” you asked, wondering how he came by his nickname.

“For the horns,” Oats replied in deadpan humour. “Have a look if he’s still there when we go outside. You ready?”

You followed him out of the cafe with a nod, and just as you took a deep, indulgent breath of fresh, heathland air, Oats’ group of friends filed out past you on their bikes. The one named Demon was in the lead, and the nickname made immediate sense. Sitting astride a blood-red Panigale, with his boyfriend clinging on behind him like a limpet, the guy had pale, curving horns fixed to the crown of his helmet.

“Yeah, that tracks,” you said, and Oats waggled his dark eyebrows.

The Amazon had a Yamaha R1 like your brother’s, but hers had a pearl-white wrap that made it look almost spectral, and riding out in front of her was Coco on a yellow and black Honda Hornet.

The telltale red plait told you that the guy in the wheelchair was on a modified Kawasaki, with unusual struts at the back that looked like they would come down when he stopped to stabilise him instead of having to take his legs off the foot pegs, where they were currently Velcro-ed in place. Watching the whole group file out was Hank, standing beside a battered old pickup. In the bed of the truck, you could just see that the red-headed biker’s wheelchair secured in place.

Hank waved the last of them off, then glanced over at Oats. The older man lifted his nose just a little, as if he too was enjoying the fresh, moorland wind that whipped across the car park, and he nodded once at Oats, and then at you to your surprise, before clambering stiffly up into his pickup and closing the door. It shut with a raucous yelp of rusty hinges.

You stood there and watched Oats’ friends all file out, all waving at Oats as they passed, before they set off down the road in a roar of revving engines to leave a lonely looking Bonneville waiting patiently near the stone wall of the car park nearby.

“Yours, I presume?” you said, nodding at it.

“Yup.”

“She’s a beauty,” you mumbled, self-consciousness prickling at the sides of your neck for the silly comment.

Oats beamed though, his sea-foam eyes lighting up as the crinkles around his eyes and the slight dimples in his cheeks creased under the force of his obvious pleasure. “Thank you. She’s my pride and joy. You ready? Oh, wait, you should put your address into my phone before we get going,” he laughed.

You nodded, taking the offered phone from him. Your fingers brushed against his warm skin as you took it, and a tiny thrill passed through you that you did your best to quash. With your address plugged in and a route home waiting to be followed, you handed it back to him and looked up into his handsome, rugged face as he smiled.

“Cheers. Let’s go,” he said, and you trailed along beside him over to his bike, heartbeat thudding in your ears with your nerves.

He swung a leg over and turned the key, then pushed the bike upright and nudged the side-stand in with his left foot before flicking the switch and bringing the bike to life. She growled beautifully, the low, thundering rumble of her engine sounding far more visceral and primal than your brother’s sports bike did. Perhaps it was the design of the lower-slung Bonneville, with its visible parts that made you think of a Steampunk aesthetic, but you instantly preferred it. Plus, the double seat looked way more cushioned — and less precarious — than the one you’d perched on to get to the cafe that morning.

Oats got himself comfy while you slid your helmet on, then he looked over his shoulder at you and nodded, so you took that as your cue and got settled on the pillion seat behind him. The footpegs were already down. The pulsing purr of the machine beneath you was almost enough to distract you from the fact that you were entrusting your life to a relative stranger, whom you’d never seen ride before, and as you climbed on and rested your hands politely on his shoulders, you felt a shiver travel through your whole nervous system.

“Do whatever’s comfortable for you, obviously,” Oats said over the noise of his bike, “But if you want to hold my waist — if you can actually get your arms around my middle, that is,” he chuckled self-effacingly, “— feel free. Totally up to you.”

“Thanks,” you yelled back, and, because apparently that pesky demon of confidence was still kicking around, you hugged his torso.

It was wonderful.

Slowly snaking your arms around his middle, you felt your chest press against his back and you caught the way he inhaled slowly and tried not to wonder what it meant. It felt so good to hold him that you had to remind yourself it wasn’t a hug. It was to keep you in place while a gorgeous stranger drove you home on his equally gorgeous bike. With a final thumbs-up to check you were happy, to which you replied with a nod of your head and tried not to clack your helmet against his, he pulled away and your heart leapt for the sheer joy of it.

Where the R1 was built for sleek speed and bursts of power, the Bonneville was build to be enjoyed, and oh gosh, did you enjoy every curve.

And not just the curves in the road, either.

Oats was soft, but he was solid, and the urge to rest one hand on his thick thigh was almost overwhelming, until he took the corners at just the right pace to be exhilarating without you having to worry about your safety, and you clung on instead and laughed behind the safety of your visor.

It was all over way too soon, and as the Bonneville chugged into your road like a steam train and halted outside your poky, terraced house with its quaint little kitchen garden out the front in the postage-stamp of space between the pavement and the house, your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. Please don’t let this be it, you thought desperately.

You went through the motions of getting carefully off the bike without staggering or falling, and again, Oats held out his hand to help steady you. You gripped his fingers gratefully and when you gave an extra little squeeze to his hand at the end, you could have sworn he answered with one of his own and a throaty chuckle.

He dismounted too, which surprised you, and you wondered if you were going to have to ask him inside. As much as you wanted that in principle, you desperately didn’t want it to happen today because the house was a mess: laundry was still hanging up all over the place, and you’d cooked a curry the previous night and it was definitely still lingering in the air.

Oats took off his helmet but left his bike idling, which went a little way to reassuring you, and when you looked more closely at his expression, you thought you saw a hint of something familiar lingering in the corners of his eyes. Was he nervous?

Swallowing thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing behind the thick, 5 o’clock shadow that looked like it lingered pretty constantly no matter the time of day, Oats took a deep breath, held it, and then smiled at you. “Fuck,” he exhaled, and laughed. “I’m… very rusty at all this.” He held his helmet in both hands before him, toying with the strap.

“If I gave you my number, would you maybe like to meet up again?” you asked, taking pity on the man.

“Very much,” he said softly. “Like I said, Natalie is with her mum for the holidays, and apart from a wedding I’m covering next week, this is a pretty slow time of year for me. I’m free… mostly whenever.”

The reminder that he had a daughter with someone else did make you wonder what you were letting yourself in for. Children weren’t really something you had any expense of, since neither you nor your brother had shown any parental inclinations yet, and you weren’t particularly close to your cousins who had small kids.

“Ok, let me give you my number and we can figure something out.”

That done, he slid his phone back into his pocket and zipped it up, biting gently at his lower lip for a moment. “I know it’s bold,” he said, “But may I kiss you?”

Your heart skipped and soared. Breathless, you looked up at him and whispered, “Yes.”

His tiny, gentle, lopsided smile heralded the kiss’ approach, and he took your jaw delicately in one, leather-gloved hand as he leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. They were soft but insistent against yours, and you answered with a little moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

He groaned, pulling you closer with a low growl so that you were pressed flush against him for a moment before he stepped back and exhaled roughly. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Thank you. I’ll… I’ll see you soon?”

You nodded, feeling like you were floating inches above the ground.

You watched him re-mount his bike and adjust himself a little once he was settled, then he revved it playfully for you, and rode away after a final look back at you. He flipped his visor down as he pulled away, and you watched the bike and its rider disappear down the road.

‘Soon’ couldn’t come soon enough… 

__

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[reallyromealone]

This request is random and it’s all up to you if you want to write it

So say muzan makes the upper six to watch over his infant son and I’d imagine it be chaotic

Like baby reader cries whenever akaza carries him, hates doma and throws his toys at him, maybe his enjoy chasing hantengu (which would lead to hantengu to run away crying), maybe gyokko would teach baby reader about art, maybe for gyutaro he’d be a decent care taker while daki is confused on how to take care of baby reader and kokushibo is baby reader baby reader favorite person and likes to be carried by kokushibo

This is totally up to you if you want to write it

Ohohohoobnonoo

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

Muzan was a very attentive father despite himself, his son; his /heir/ was his world.

(Name) was precious and perfect, given anything he could desire in the world.

An absolute papas boy.

So when the moons had to watch the little bundle...

It was a nightmare.

"WAAAAAAH!" (name) screeched as tears rolled down his face, smacking the demon angrily as his barely present fangs bit at Akaza, not harming the demon in the slightest.

"Please behave, our Lord will be home soon!" He tried soothing the babe who wailed louder.

Doma was treated no better though instead of crying it was violence.

"Please little Lord, I just wanna be your friend~" Doma said playfully as he shook a raddle infront of the little one who looked absolutely furious that he cult leader was touching his rattle "ABABABA!" He screeched and smacked his hands against the tatami mat and the blond cooed but glared when a stuffed toy hit him "that's very rude little lord~" Doma said and lifted (name) who immediately tugged at his hair with force "why are you so full of hate~!" He said with almost sadness in his voice "I'm the best one here!"

"Dada!"

"He's gone right now little one!"

(Name) was /facinated/ by hantengu and followed him around everywhere, Shakey little feet as the upper moon tried to get away from the little one, tiny Muzan picking up speed wit his waddles as the poor demon tried running away.

And that's when they learned little (name) could crawl on walls.

"GET AWAY!" He said anxiously and (name) made loud happy baby noises.

Gyokko looked fond as the little one finger painted, messy and colorful and proudly showed it to the other, it was a mess but he could see a vague shape of Lord Muzan based on the black blob with little red eyes.

"Very good little one" (name) beamed at the praise.

Gyotaro was an excellent care taker, soothing the little babe for his nap as Daki played dress up, she wasn't sure how to care for a baby having never had done so but she always thought infant clothes were precious, the siblings watching him as he sleeped on a blanket.

But out of all the moons, (name) always prefered Kokushibo who sat in silence reading as (name) sat in his lap drinking his bottle, the demon glancing down as the babe pat his arm "do you wish for me to read to you?"

"Ababa..."

"Very well..." Kokushibos voice was deep and relaxing to the boy, reminding him of his papa in a way and Kokushibo was reminded of his own children with (name).

Rarely did he think of them but occasionally he wondered what lives they led.

He wondered what life (name) would lead.

The babe sneezed and Kokushibo was confused as a daisy bloomed from the tatami mat.

Well then.

#demon slayer x male reader #demon slayer x reader #upper moons x reader #upper moons x male reader #muzan x male reader #muzan x reader #child male reader

[hellsburners]

you got me

summary: marc finds you wearing his shirt and a pair of short shorts pairing: marc spector x male reader word count: 1.5k warnings: 18+ warning, kinky marc, bottom!reader, marc hates short shorts (secretly loves it) a/n: thanks to this lovely prompt (also i might make one for jake and steven too if i have the time)

masterlist | more moon knight

Marc came home to a quiet apartment. It was clean, as always, with all of Steven’s books arranged on the desk and Jake’s favorite clothes ironed on the clothes rack. He couldn’t help but smile, dating you was probably the best thing that could happen to them. 

“Baby?” he called. “You home?” 

“Yeah, I’m here!” you said, carrying folded clothes to Marc’s closet. He took off his coat, dropping it on the couch. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m fine,” he stretched his back muscles and cracked his neck, the fatigue weighing in. “Just need a drink that’s all.”

You came out of his room, wearing his shirt and shorts too short. Marc’s thick eyebrows furrowed as you walked to the kitchen trying to get a wine glass for him. 

You felt a finger on the back of your thigh, running up your skin till it reached the hem of your shorts. “Where’d you get this?” he whispered. 

You grab the glass from the cabinet, leaving it on the counter. Marc’s eyes follow your movement, his hands snaking around your waist. “Get what?”

“These shorts,” he said, palming your ass through the cloth. “They’re a little—provocative?” 

“It was very hot today,” you said. “And I cleaned the whole flat!” 

“And you’re wearing my shirt,” Marc whispered, smelling himself on you. He pressed a kiss on your nape, sniffing on the base of your neck, his arms toying with the barrier between your skin and the shorts. 

“Go sit on the couch I’ll bring the wine,” you smirked. 

Marc sat on the couch, manspreading while holding the empty wine glass. He bit his lips, the sight was downright obscene. As you reached for the wine on the top shelf, your shirt would lift to the point that he could see the garter of your underwear. Marc’s cock turned in his seat.

“Come sit on my lap,” he said, pulling you to his lap before you poured the wine. You cheered before taking a sip, the bitter liquid burning your throat. 

Marc’s hands snaked all over your smooth legs, he lifted your leg from your ankles to place kisses all over your legs. You squirmed under his embrace, burying your face on his neck. 

“Marc—” you whimpered. He made you straddle him, his ass practically slapping your ass. 

“I’m gonna fucking rip these shorts off you,” he said, kissing you in the process. He held your chin, his other hand going under your shorts. “Your legs are so pretty—and that fucking ass,” slapping your ass again making you shudder. 

“I didn’t know it would have this much of an effect on you,” you wail, “I could’ve worn something shorter.”

“Try me.”

“I’m pretty sure Steven liked it when I wore these shorts.”

“Oh he liked it very much,” he said, his hands reaching under your shirt finding your nipples, he toys with them, eliciting a whimper under your breath. 

You grind on his lap trying to give his growing erection some friction, a groan leaves his lips. Your hands rest on his chest, using it to stabilize your body as your hips roll on his cock. 

Marc bites his lip almost drawing blood trying to stifle his moans. He grips on the hem of your shorts pulling them down to nearly expose your ass as he leaves hickeys all over your neck. 

“I’m gonna rip this off you,” he declares. 

“Marc—”

You unbuttoned his trousers, palming his dick through his boxers. His hands linger on your neck, running through your hair as you release his cock from its confines. 

It was already leaking with precum, you use the wetness as lube for your hand, stroking his thick shaft. Marc takes his jacket off, his body already warming up, sweat dripping on his forehead. 

“Can I ride it?” you pout.

“No, baby,” he said. “You’re bending over for me tonight. Go to the bed, on your hands and knees.”

“Oh.”

“And keep your clothes on.”

You did what you were told, waiting in the room staring at the stark wall waiting for him. You hear the door creak he is silent, but you hear his belt jingle as he walks. You feel the warmth of his hand on your back, pressing it down so your ass was pointing towards him, your shirt pooling on your shoulders leaving your back bare. 

His fingers reach under the hem of your waist, simultaneously pulling with so much force tearing the thin cloth and splitting it into two pieces—the fabric rips like the sound of thunder behind you. Marc does the same to your underwear. 

“Marc!”

“Now that it’s out of the way,” he said. “I’m gonna play with this all night,” massaging your ass before he dives right in, licking and sucking on your hole drawing whimpers from your mouth. 

He spits on your hole, using his fingers to enter it. He curls his fingers to play with your prostate, the sheer amount of pleasure made your legs wobbly. He takes a moment to nibble on the fatty mound on your rear, leaving hickeys as his fingers continue to play with your hole. His other hand finds your erection, stroking it.

You continue to writhe and whimper under him, your mouth dripping with saliva, your eyes rolling back into your skull, pure ecstasy enveloping your being. Your hands grip tightly on the sheets, leaving dents on your palms. Marc smacks your ass from the continued assault. 

You could hear Marc stroke his cock, the wet sounds were so lewd it led to your cock ache even more. You wanted him to use you, to draw out all the moans, to punish you for offending him. 

“You’re so hot baby,” Marc uttered. “Need this every day.”

“Please—I need you already.”

“Need me, how?”

“Inside me—please.”

That does it for Marc. He teases your hole with the tip of his cock, tracing it around with its wetness. He presses in, the tight muscle enveloping it. Your back aches but he persists, pressing deeper until it’s fully sheathed inside you.

The two of you let out guttural moans, tears welling under your eyes. Marc bends down to grab onto your hair, pulling at his hips to push in. There was a rough side to him that you know, but maybe it was the shorts or the fatigue, but tonight he was rougher, his grip on you tighter. 

“So fuckin’ tight—”

He thrusts, over and over. The sound of skin slapping and your cries are the only things your neighbors would hear. His hand pushed you down the bed, his other hand at your side for support. 

You stroke your cock, practically leaking onto the sheets. Marc whispers sweet nothings to your ear, and a drop of the wetness on his lips drips down your ear. He nibbles your ear, your hands still gripping onto the sheets. 

He flips you around so that you’re facing him, placing your legs on his shoulders. He thrusts back again into you, the base of his cock hitting your ass on each stroke of his hips. The veins on his hand bulge as they sit tightly on your wrists, pinning them above your head. 

Precum leaks from your tip, pooling on your abdomen. Marc takes some with his index finger, scraping it up from your belly button to your chest, and brings it to your lips. You lick your essence from his fingers, the salty bitterness on your tongue. He bends down to share your wetness with a kiss. 

“It tastes good, yeah?” 

You nod, your eyes scrunched up from all the stimulation. You could feel your core tighten, the heat pouring through your veins. Marc leaves light kisses all over your skin down to your collarbone. All you wanted to do was take him in your embrace.

You pull him in, your nails digging into his skin leaving red marks down his back. His dark curls tickle your face, his head buried in the corner of your neck. He ruts into you faster, harder, more forcefully. You let out cries that break through the hot atmosphere. 

“Babe—I’m close,” you whine. 

“I know baby, I know,” he coos, caressing your cheeks. “You gotta be patient though, –need you to wait for me.”

“I’ll try—” the tears blurring your vision. The pleasure coming from Marc’s cock was intoxicating, the heat of our muscle combined with his thrusts almost drove him to the edge, teetering for release. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight you’re gonna make me cum so hard.”

“Can you cum inside me?” you begged. You held his face in your palms, relishing his beauty as he fucked you. His long lashes and his thick brows scrunched all over. It was adorable. 

“If you want me to,” he groans. “Anything for you.”

Marc moved his hips with such grace and power it was finally the time for release. He kissed your lips, moaning from the moment the two of you reached your climax. Marc, thrusting erratically, as you stroke your erection one last time. Your wetness shoots all over your torsos, his cum filling inside you leaving a warmth fullness. 

He pulls back from this kiss, staring down at you with dark eyes. He pushes your hair back, caressing your cheek with his thumb. Your breaths heave trying to catch some air. 

“My pretty boy,” he lets out. “Wear those shorts again and I’m fucking your brains out.”

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x male reader #steven grant x male reader #marc spector x male reader #jake lockley x male reader #moon knight smut #steven grant smut #marc spector smut #jake lockley smut

[lieutnt]

Omega Steven Grant x top male reader. Steven is in heat and comes from work very very need, and he literally begs his partner to creampie him

Steven barrels into your chest as soon as he’s through the door, rubbing himself against you as if he’s trying to push into the space next to your heart. You try to ask him what’s wrong but he’s reluctant to be pulled away, and it’s not until you smell the air, instantly picking up the scent of his slick that you realise. He looses a purr when your hand combs through his curls, “It snuck up on you huh?” you ask. Steven’s never been one for keeping good track of his heats, having to rush home when it hits him unexpectedly.

He nods against you, arms tightly wrapped around your body to keep you close. “I need you luv.” Moving up he burrows into the crook of your neck, already losing himself in trying to get as much of your scent on him as he can. 

After a whirlwind of clothes being pulled off you have Steven underneath you, naked and desperately trying to fuck himself back against you as you sink into his wet heat inch by inch, going slow despite his pleas for more. His body screams at him to breed and that’s what he does when your balls press against his ass; begs you to fill him up, to cum inside, keep him on your knot until something takes.

You fuck him through two orgasms before yours makes an appearance, your warning sending Steven into a frenzy as he rocks himself back against you, hole trying to suck you in deeper. Your cum flooding his insides has Steven groaning so loud you think the neighbours may hear, eyes rolling into the back of his head as the smell of an omega in heat has you cumming more than usual, some already leaking from his hole.

Before you can collapse on top of Steven you roll onto your side, hugging him to your chest as he purrs contentedly, your cock acting as a plug to keep your cum inside while the intensity of his heat wanes temporarily, body momentarily satiated as you protectively curl around him. 

#steven grant #steven grant x male reader #top male reader #male reader #top reader #moon knight #marvel #omegaverse #lieutnts drabbles #lieutnts writings

[febuary30thday]

Love

Yan! Uppermoons! + Muzan with an affectionate reader!

(Reader who likes giving hugs, kisses, and PDA, stuff like that)

(I'm sorry, but pookie always comes first 😫)

He is eating it up like it's his last meal

He may not be affectionate, but he likes it when you are

He's a major hypocrite

If he's not affectionate and then you take it as him not liking affection and stop, he'll hate it

He will demand an answer and when you explain it to him, he is not understanding

He will yell at you if needed (When he doesn't have your devotion)

He thinks that your affection is a sign of your devotion, and he needs your devotion

He only lets Kokushibo near you

His love language to you is gift-giving and words of affirmation

He'll buy you flowers, praise you, and rope you in

He knows exactly how to rope you in

He gives you punishments, even if you haven't done anything wrong, to test you

He needs you completely devoted to him and your attention only on him

If your attention is on something else, he will emotionally manipulate you, and make you dependent on him and only him

Don't try to resist

He turns you into a demon, so that he can read your thoughts and control you for his own needs

If you listen and stay affectionate, you live happily ish.

If you don't listen..... you don't want to know what happens

"Just stay devoted and love only me, darling, if you do, I'll provide you with the best life you could ever have."

With a man as stoic as him, you'd think he would like affection, right?

Wrong.

It makes him feel weak, and it feels like he's getting soft

The minute he feels weak, is the minute he thinks about Yoriichi, and trust me, that doesn't end well

That's what he thought about affection

Until you won his heart, and became the obsession of his life

The reason he lives, breathes, and becomes more powerful, is because of you

He is a lot more forceful in what he wants, and he is very straightforward about his intentions

He isn't good at emotional manipulation, but he is very good at intimidation, and, what are you going to do?

He loves your affection, and he is very affectionate as well, when he wants to be

He will stop you from whatever you're doing if he wants to kiss you, or cuddle you

DON'T try to stop him

He likes leaving his sword at his feet when he cuddles you, keeping his eye on it, and also showing you how vulnerable he is to you

He knows you love him, but he needs constant reassurance, believe it or not, he's very insecure

He will never admit this

Stay by his side, and he will treat you right

He also does turn you into a demon, because he can't stand the thought of being without you

"I'm completely vulnerable with you right now. I'm showing you my devotion, and I expect you to show me your devotion as well."

He loves it

It's his excuse to always cling to you

He is also affectionate as well, so you two go hand-in-hand

He makes his followers worship you as well, proclaiming that you are a deity, and they listen

He turns you into a demon pretty early when he realizes he wants you

He always keeps you on his lap

He is also very cheeky with his intentions, so sometimes he makes you wear the clothes of his followers

He uses it as an excuse to defile you

He spoils you like crazy

He is soft and gentle with his touches, believing you to be fragile

He treats you like porcelain (Not in the bedroom)

He teases you and is also very flirty

He does love you and will cuddle and coddle you always

As long as you are with him for eternity, he will love you

If he sees any of his male followers looking at you wrongly, he kills them off, despite having no intention to eat them

He makes you dependent on him as well, but also allows you some freedom, he isn't completely restrictive

Believe it or not, Akaza feels pity for you

Douma talks about you every chance he gets, he is very brave and open

Everyone's tired of it

"I love you, snowflake! You should stay with me for eternity! I promise to love you!"

He likes it, but is pretty mellow with his affection

He is very romantic, and also very possessive

He does say you are weak, but he only says that because he wants you to stay with him

He constantly says how he can protect you

He is afraid of losing you, so he appreciates the little things you do as well

Turning you into a demon was his choice, but he does feel a little bad

He hates leaving you alone so he completes his missions quickly

He takes you out, only when he's with you

He does like hugging and kissing you, but doesn't smother you like Douma does

He just likes showing you he loves you

He's trying, give him some time

He's kind of bad at the whole 'being in love thing' but he knows how to express love

He doesn't punish you as often, if at all, he hates doing that

He doesn't use underhand tactics to make you dependent on him, he kind of just does it on accident

He needs you to live, breathe and survive

He does love seeing you happy and would do anything for you

"Please don't leave me. I can't live without you."

#yandere muzan #yandere kokushibo x reader #yandere x reader #yandere akaza #yandere akaza x reader #yandere muzan x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere demon slayer #yandere demon x reader #yandere #demon slayer #romance #yandere kokushibo #yandere douma x reader #yandere drabble #male yandere #yandere writing #yandere douma #uppermoonkoku #upper moons

[miguel-owhora]

i lied. anyways, have this small steven drabble :3

"Slow- ah! - down!" Despite Steven's attempts at getting you to slow down, you did anything but. Your claws gripped his knees to his chest, his pretty plump pussy on full display, and fuck, what a view it was. It stretched nicely around your cock, the sweet wet squelch sound bouncing off around his room as you all but fucked into him.

Not that he was complaining, of course not your little Steven. You knew he was a little slut, you knew it when you first met him, could feel his pheromones teasing you, fucking slut. The thought alone has you growling, sharp teeth clenched and drooling down your dark lip as you quickened the pace—somehow.

It ripped a loud squeal from Steven, who thrashed and cried out as he squirted, and your hold on him tightened as you pressed him deeper against the bed and deepened your thrusts. Your cock pounded into his sloppy cunt, ou could feel his gummy walls clenching around your cock, silently begging for your knot. Steven babbled underneath your larger form, his curly hair sticking to his scalp as he cried, so flushed and sweaty; you leaned down to lick at his tears. It was salty.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a sharp moan when you sharply jabbed your cock against his sweet spot. He looked exhausted—maybe getting fucked by a werewolf was what he needed to have a good night's rest.

#mr. o'whora's works ! #werewolf!mreader my beloved #steven grant x male reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight x male reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #moon knight #x male reader #sub male character #dom male reader #monster fucker

[ilovelosermen69]

My emotional attachment to fictional men that kill people is insane.

#slasher community #slashers x male reader #slashers x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x male reader #moon knight x male reader #moon knight x reader #mk1 #mk1 x reader #sucker punch x reader #oscar issac characters #I think I'm mentally ill #pedro pascal characters #din dijarin x reader #din dijarn x male reader #cod x reader #cod x male reader #sweeney todd the demon barber of fleet street #sweeney todd x reader

[the-moon-files]

I love the idea of humans being built different, it's even more fun when you get to unintentionally traumatized the other people :3

Sorry for late reply! I didnt realize i had mail 🥺💌

No fr, one of my fav tropes in "humans space orcs" fandom stuff over there, is like what we eat/strength equivalent/resistence to stuff = and the reactions thereof to it lmao

OH JUST HAD A FOUL THOUGHT

What if most things just bounced off of us as humans, bc the gravity in Hyrule is different than ours, i mean it is a diff planet (kinda?)

(This is not how gravity works, more like we could have extreme jumping, but roll with my bs science im an arts kid)

or like if we did get hit, it had nowhere near the impact of how it's hit a hylian, like for example: Guardians.

The guardians get possessed/copied into Dark versions after running around Wild's hyrule enough, and so not only is it 10x harder to beat than usual guardians, as its taking nearly half the chain trying to take it down (rather than like 2 usually)

And even better if ur out of the fight bc they still expect u to not be great at it, like ok ur temperature resistent, but thats not helpful in battle-

U get fucking hit by a Guardian Laser Beam, and everyone freezes, the Links fighting the guardian, the Links fighting the misc monsters, Wild mightve even screamed and came running after you-

And you just kinda, sit. Like someone pushed you while u were off balance, and u flopped on the ground, still sitting up even 💀

And ur chest is hot, but not burned or anything

Yeah, I'd love a universe of Humans ≠ Hylians

Maybe ill make a fic or like a bunch of oneshots abt this with Masc!reader, if anyone is vaguely interested in reading it

Otherwise id write it for myself and not bother posting LMAO

Peace out,

🌙

#moon chats #moon rambles #the tag for when i kinda make content but also im just expanding off what someone else alr said #like a informal version #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #male reader #lu x male reader #linked universe reader #link x reader #loz link x reader #linked universe male reader #moon asks #my asks #good god is that all the tags yet #here ill make a tag for this AU bc my blog doesnt have ityet #humans are not hylians AU

[moonit3]

A LOYAL BUTLER pt. 2

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, cunnilingus, handjob, blowjob, afab! reader, male! yandere, dom! reader, sub! yandere, kissing, dry humping, non penetration but smut, I don’t how to write moans so bare with me, implied overstimulation.

➥ synopsis: a party leads to an unexpected moment for you and elliot that makes the relationship even more intimate.

➥ yandere! butler x f! reader

➥ a/n: with the help and guidance of @taeee0902 , im bringing the second part of the story that many of you have been waiting for! keep in minds this is probably the now longest piece of the blog for now, also the most long smut ive write before \(//∇//)\ so im hoping to all of you enjoy this piece as i loved writing this one! also, this is part two of this post! so check it out for some context.

➥ it’s been a few weeks since you and elliot got closer than ever. letting his hands and lips going over your body during working hours, making you feel relieved after long days of paperwork and making you feel so much pleasure from his hands alone. to think he is doing it almost daily is insane, specially when it’s risky to be caught. one time, elliot touched you in the library, despite knowing there were servants around.

➥ the occasions when he isn’t touching nor speaking dirty things to your ears, elliot still helps with your family’s finances. despite being your lover behind the curtains, he still needs to be a presentable man to keep his job as your personal butler, but also to prevent anyone from finding it out the relationship you two share. elliot knows how many people wants to steal you away from him.

➥ “you are mine, [name]…” his hands holds your waist down to the bed, preventing you from escaping his touch as he teases your entrance. the lovely sounds coming out from your lips and seeing how your eyes are rolling back makes him smile. “none can see you like this but me, do you understand me?” the only thing you could do is nodded, too busy to speak when his fingers entered your hole and too much concentrated to not moan loudly, too focused to not moan out loud of this situation.

➥ and his touchy attitude got more intense with the invitation from an old friend of your late father. a gala where many nobles will celebrate the birth of the new addition of the duke’s family, not a big deal though. however when the party started, noblemen got all over you, asking for your hand and shameless flirting with you, not caring it’s that is against the queen’s words.

➥ i should’ve stayed home…that you keep thinking by every time one of those old men gets closer to you, offering you to become their second or third wife. you can’t believe men like this exist, how can they be this stupid? thankfully, elliot is here to help.

➥ his expressionless face and sharp words were enough to make those men step away from you. because of that, many nobles began to believe that he is the voice of reason of the barony, a harsh and cruel butler who has to help the inexperienced baroness who inherited a large territory, but they don’t know the true, none of them really does.

➥ when it’s the time to leave the party, you decided to go to the bathroom and elliot took the opportunity to arrange the carriage. you give your best at smiling at those nobles for hours and hours, so that’s the barely minimum he can do for you. he was ready to enter the carriage to wait for you, but suddenly a maid calls for his name, one that he recognizes to be working for the party’s host.

➥ despite telling her name, elliot’s mind fail to remember as she talks and talks even more about her admiration for him. it’s an innocent crush, elliot can tell that by how her cheeks gets reds when he pretends to pay attention and how she can’t hold her voice low whatever she speaks about her current hobbies. situations like this are normal, everyone gets a crush on someone else, but this girl is getting off the hook. trying to touch his gloved hand and taking steps to be closer to him, this girl is surely bold or stupid enough to not know her place.

➥ he was ready to yell, maybe making a scene to scold her behavior, but nothing happened as you returned. with a smile on the lips, you make your way to stand next to elliot and dismiss the maid. the tone of your voice is shape and cold, completely opposite of your usual manner. it was efficient and the maid quickly left the scene, but not before staring at you with hateful eyes.

“my lady,” he is relieved by your arrival, things could’ve been different if you hadn’t arrived in time. “thank you for helping me with that maid.”

the sweet smile on your lips calm him down, “no problem, elliot. its my duty to assure that my closest friend feel uncomfortable.” is that so? your hands goes to his and you get closer to whisper your next words, “before we leave, i need to show you something. follow me~”

and he obeyed you. step by step, elliot walked behind you for a path that he didn’t visit earlier of the duke’s manor as he was too occupied by staying at your side during the party, however you seems familiar with this part of the mansion. have you visited here before? perhaps. after all, every noble knows each other from either arranged marriages or business relationships.

it took a few more minutes til you arrive at the place you wanted to show elliot, a library, where the only living souls around are you and him. the door is closed when he enters after you, there is something around that you want to show him? maybe an ancient book, money or could it be something else?

“elliot.” turning to face you, elliot is surprised by your hands pushing him to sit down an dusty empty armchair. slowly, you began unzipping the back of your dress, revealing the black bra and panties that you are wearing underneath it. what are you doing? this is unladylike of a noblewoman! but why isn’t he stopping you? “is this alright with you?”

he nodded, too busy to talk by the moment your hands hold his face closer to your. feeling your breath to his skin makes the entire world pause for an instant and the soft of your lips on his makes elliot feel the luckiest man to ever exist. the kiss was meant to last seconds, but elliot didn’t want to let go of this magnificent moment, so he pulled you closer with his own hands and kissed you for longer.

it’s a little weird to know that had touched you before in numerous occasions, but it’s just now that you shared a kiss with him, one that left a line of saliva when the two of finally separated. cheeks red and completely breathless, those are the words that describe you and elliot in this situation.

“a-are you—“ you interrupted him with another kiss, but it didn’t last long as elliot pushed you away. “we shouldn’t do this—it’s wrong and unacceptable to a noble lady kiss her servant.”

“really? off all the things we did before, you consider a kiss to be more blasphemy than those times you were in middle of my legs?” a laugh escapes from your lips, trying to minimize the awkward of this situation. “besides, i know you want this too, to take things just a little more further between the two of us.”

the embarrassment of elliot’s face faded with your words. “you want me?” the thought of alone makes him wonder for long you have planned this.

“of course i want you, elliot.” you kissed his neck, dirtying a small part of his white long shirt and smiling at his face. “but i will understand if you wish to pretend this never happened—“

“NO!” he holds your hips closer to his, not daring to let you escape from his grab nor getting up from his lap. “i want this. i want you, [name]…so please, continue to touch me as you wish, my lady.”

“then, i will begin.” you smiled.

with his hands on your hips, elliot guide you to move forward and back on his lap. soft moans comes from his mouth by every time you rub your intimate part closer to his buldge, it’s a new sensation for the butler, one that is making his body feel so good.

your hands on his shoulder makes him smile, this isn’t a dream, this is real and feeling your soft finger touching him is a reminder this whole experience is reality and he won’t ever change this for anything, not even for a fancy title.

elliot can feel that he is close. the moans turned into whimpers and whines speaking your name when his grip is getting weaker, his eyes are full of tears of pure pleasure. he wants to hold it, too make this moment last longer, but he failed to do so.

“ahhhh……mmm~!” one of your hands went to his lips, preventing elliot from moaning out loud to the entire manor, but that didn’t stop him from dirtying his brief and pants. its stick, you can feel as you get up from his lap and it’s visible if anyone pays closer attention. also the look on his face doesn’t help much either. “…[name]…”

things was supposed to end there, at least, that was elliot thought before you kneeling in front of him. before having you unzipped his pants, removing his briefs to take his cock into your hands. he couldn’t say a words, not when his own voice was betraying him by only letting the library’s wall listen to his stuffy moans.

the tears coming from his eye block mostly of his vision, only letting elliot see your blurry hands touching his cock and feeling your tongue licking the head of his member. wait. are you going to do what is he thinking? your lips gets closer to his shaft and then take as much as possible of him inside your mouth.

“ah…” elliot groans, the hand that isn’t preventing the moan from escaping goes to your head, guiding you to take just a little more of him. “hmmmm~”

the base of his cock is getting stoke with your non-dominant hand while the other one is holding his thighs from closing whatever elliot whimpers. your tongue can already taste the precum coming from the tip and he is already telling you to stop, saying that you shouldn’t drink it, that is dirty to a lady like to do it, but you don’t hear him.

and for a last time tonight, elliot whimpers as he finally came over and in return, you take it all inside your mouth. not a single drop escape from your lips as you smiled after drinking it all, impressing elliot in the process.

“elliot~” you still between his legs, holding his still hard cock in your hands. “are your ready for another round?”

“y-yes, [name].” he stuttered.

hiding behind one of the many pillars of the manor, a maid stares at the library’s door, waiting for two people to step out and to caught them for staying after the party was finished.

“my lord won’t like this at all.” a smile crept into her lips, already imagining the many scenarios of the baroness and her butler getting scolded and gaining some extra money for it. “and i might get a chance with that guy afterwards.”

the maid stood there for at least an hour or so before the door finally opened, revealing the two individuals she was hoping to see, but instead of calling their attention or some knight to scolded them, her body freeze by what she notice of them.

lipstick marks on the butler’s neck, a tiny drop of white fluids on the noble woman lips and what made her too stunned to speak…they are holding hands! a member of the high society being touchy with a mere commoner, isn’t that wrong? she was supposed to say something or at least call someone to shame them in the public eyes, but she just stood still, watching the two walking away to the entrance.

the baroness and her butler smiled to each other when stepping out of the duke’s manor, happily to their relationship getting more intimate and to the maid who was too scared to do something against them.

@moonit3 writings

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #yandere headcanons #yandere male x reader #yandere headcanon #yandere hcs #yandere man #yandere butler #my oc elliot #yandere x female reader #x female reader #female reader #tw yandere #tw smut #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

[nino-rox]

Akaza x Male Human Reader | S

Warnings: NSFW Gay sex, Sexual themes (Rough, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex), Some blood. Top Akaza, Bottom Human Reader.

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post.

Akaza picked you up, your back against the wall, as his dick grazed against your hole.

The smirk on his face when he licked his lips told you that he knew what he was doing to you.

And you liked it. Akaza’s mouth covered yours, his tongue searching and pushing its way into your mouth while his hands squeezed your ass.

You kissed him back, one of your hands reaching up to touch his cheeks, as the other was wrapped around his neck. You never thought you’d fall in love with a demon - let alone get fucked by one against the wall.

When you felt the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, you tried to push him away, but it was useless. The thrust was smooth and deep, making your breath hitch.

“A-ah…” Akaza’s arms wrapped around you tighter as he bit your earlobe before moaning softly.

You bit his lip harder and moaned as he went faster. His dick throbbed inside you as it slowly slid out and then slowly slid back inside of you, hitting the spot just right.

“Oh, God…” you moaned as he fucked you faster. He bent his knees and moved you from the wall onto the floor, still thrusting inside you.

His body pressed against yours while his cock rubbed against every sensitive spot within your hole. Every inch of you tingled. His hands made their way to your neck again, this time holding it tightly. You could feel his fingers digging into your skin, leaving red marks that would turn purple after a few hours - it got harder to breathe.

Your moans became louder and more frequent as he moved faster and deeper. He was taking control of you now. And you loved it.

Your bare back was laid against the floor as your eyes were shut tight, sweat dripping down your forehead. Akaza removed his hand from your neck and brought it down to cover your mouth, silencing your cries. “Be quiet!”

Akaza whispered harshly. He fucked you even faster, his hips slapping against your ass with each stroke as you arched your back. Your head rolled from side to side, and you could feel the drool escaping your mouth. He placed his free hand under your back, making you arch it more as he bit down hard on your nipple. The pain shot through your body. You didn’t want to scream, but his nails pierced your flesh, leaving long, bloody scratches behind. It hurt like hell, but somehow, you couldn’t stop begging for more.

Akaza pounded you harder and harder until you cried out in pain. It felt like your skin was ripping apart, your body shuddering, and your muscles tensing. You opened your teary eyes to see Akaza lustfully watching you. The look in his eyes told you exactly how much pleasure he was feeling. It looked like it was too much for him to handle, so he closed his eyes, biting his lip as he came inside you.

He pushed his sweaty chest against yours as he pulled out and shoved himself into you again - continuing to rail you as his cum dripped out of your hole with each thrust. This time he kept fucking you - his muscular defined body completely resting on you - while groaning, muttering nonsense words. Then all of a sudden, his moans turned into screams, and Akaza started fucking you harder than ever as you let out sinful moans into his ear “AHhh Uh AH, I’m-im going to cum, Akaza”, You managed to choke out, crying out and writhing around on the ground.

With each thrust, you felt your walls clenching on his cock, the blood flowing down your thighs and soaking into the floor beneath you. Your whole body was drenched in sweat; his thrusts got sloppier as you heard him moan from ecstasy. You felt his cock begin to pulse around your tight walls, cum spewing inside you. Your entire body shook violently as you rode out the waves of ecstasy, his seed coating your insides. Your orgasm lasted for minutes, causing you to almost pass out. When it finally subsided, you both lay motionless, his dick still inside as cum oozed out of your hole.

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