#only because when he puts his massive fucking hands around my neck

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Cute aggression

Your boyfriend has a weird habit of being aggressively loving. He'll hug you so tight, sometimes you'll have to tap his arm so you can breathe. He pinches your cheeks with his fingers, cooing at you as he pulls at them playfully and laughs as you whine from the pain. When you cuddle in bed, he'll pull you in super tightly, wrapping both his arms and legs around you before snuggling his face into your hair, letting out a loud 'Mmmmmmm~' sound as he did so. Sometimes, he'll bury his face against your chest, snuggling deep into your cleavage, shaking his head back and forth as he enjoys the sensation of your soft flesh surrounding him.

"Who's my baby? Who's my sweet, adorable little baby? You are! Yes you are!" he'll coo before he smushes you chubby cheeks between his hands as he leans down to kiss your now pouting lips. He also bites you. Like a lot. He'll gently chomp down on your chubby cheeks, your ears, your thighs, your ass cheeks- honestly anywhere he can get his mouth on, he starts biting.

He gets carried away at times and even coddles you in front of his friends, using the baby voice as he kisses you or asks you a question. "Does baby want a new pwetty dress? Hmm? Something cute for my cute baby. Why are you blushing so much? Oh, the others heard me. Don't worry about them, sweetiepie. Focus on me."

It feels like there's a massive amount of energy inside of him that comes out when he can be aggressive with you. He doesn't hurt you, far from it, but it can take you by surprise when he will randomly pick you up just so he can hug you, making your wrap your legs around him tightly as he embraces you.

And of course, this aggression even comes out in the bedroom. He'll shush you as you cry from his spankings. He'll spend ages between your legs just because he can't bare to be apart from your kitty. He'll suckle on your nipples and call you his good little baby while he does. His favorite position is missionary just because he can easily fuck you, look at you and coddle you all at once.

"Baby! Of fuck- your sweet pussy is squeeeezing my cock! Relax cutie- ah- ah- yes- fucking love this cunt!"

"Hold me tighter- come on- really pull me in. That's it- just like that- oh baaaaby!"

"You want me to- fuck- slow down? It's ok baby, you can take it."

His other favorite is prone bone, just because he can put all of his weight on you and fuck you silly as his forearm is pressed against your neck, choking you perfectly.

"Oh, poor baby~ Am I choking you too hard? Your face is all red!"

"Yes baby, you can cum again. Cum all over my fucking cock!"

It was only through a random conversation with friends that you found out what cute aggression was and suddenly, it all made sense! You explained it to him and all he did was laugh, pulling you in for a hug as you swatted at him, not really mad.

"You're treating me like I'm a puppy!" you said, huffing as he started peppering your face with kisses.

"Well, you are my pet~"

Bokuto, Kuroo, Gojo, Yuuji, Shanks, Ace, Sabo, Uzui, Douma, Kaeya, Childe, Wriothesley.

#subby writes #haikyuu smut #jjk smut #genshin smut #demon slayer smut #kim #bokuto smut #kuroo smut #gojo satoru smut #itadori yuuji smut #shanks smut #ace portgas smut #sabo smut #uzui smut #douma smut #kaeya smut #childe smut #wriothesley smut

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Cover Up

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: implied smut

Summary: You hooked up with someone expecting to keep him as a one-and-done. You didn't expect him to show up at your college.

Square Filled: "You are one fine specimen, and I'm not saying that because I'm drunk.” for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Shit. Shit. Shit. You’re so late. You can’t be late for your first day of college. You had a bit too much to drink last night which caused you to sleep in longer than you wanted to. You’re so late that you didn’t have time to do your makeup. Eh, you can do it when you get to school. The drive is only thirty minutes but with morning traffic, it takes forty-five.

Meet me in the bathroom by the cafeteria! Emergency! You send to your best friend.

You rush from your car all the way to the bathroom before anyone else has a chance to see how messed up you look. You have everything you need in your backpack to fix your look, and you almost cringe at yourself when you look in the mirror.

“Man, I need to stop drinking,” you shake your head.

You take out your brush and comb your hair when Madison walks in.

“Y/N?”

“Over here.”

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“I woke up late. I didn’t have time to do my makeup. I need to use yours.”

“You texted me this is an emergency. I blew off Jason just to come here.”

“Mads, this is an emergency. Look at me. I can’t go to class looking like this. I still have pimples on my face. Can I use your makeup or not?”

“Of course.” She sets her backpack on the counter and takes out the massive bag containing everything she needs for a full face of makeup. It’s a damn good thing you’re the exact shade as her. “Why’d you wake up late?”

“I was out late last night.”

“And?”

“Why does there have to be an and?”

“Bitch, I know you.”

“I had too much to drink,” you sigh.

“There it is,” she laughs. “Who’d you do?”

“Why does there have to be a guy?” you chuckle and look at her. She raises an eyebrow as if you could actually fool her. “Okay, I don’t know his name. I was too busy making out with him to ask.”

“Do tell,” she smirks. You grab an elastic and put your hair up to have it out of the way while you do your makeup. She gasps when she sees the dark purple marks on your neck. “What the fuck are those?”

“So, they’re noticeable?”

“Noticeable? It looks like he was trying to suck your blood. God damn.”

“Mads, when I tell you this man was so fine, I mean it. I thought he was shy and awkward because he had that look about him, but he was the complete opposite. He took me to the back where the bathrooms were and had his way with me. God, he was so big,” you gasp.

“Tell me you got his number.”

“His friends came and got him before we could say anything. I don’t even know his name. I had to go home and put my vibrator to good use even after the orgasms he gave me.”

“Okay, new mission in life, find that man. It’s been a while since you let someone ruffle your feathers.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

You grab what you need and cover your marks as much as you can. They’re so dark that the foundation can’t cover it completely, but with your hair down, it’s manageable. Once you feel like you can walk out in public, you hand everything back to her.

“Okay, we’re good to go. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she winks.

You take one look at yourself and remember what it was like to have his hands on your body.

You’ve never done this with a stranger before. Sure, you’ve had public sex before but nothing like this. None of your flings had this much passion. You’ve only met this man not even an hour ago and his tongue is down your throat.

There is a family bathroom next to the men’s and women’s restrooms, so he shoves you into that one and locks the door behind him. He grabs your hips and lifts you so that you can wrap your legs around his slender waist. He shoves his hand between your legs as his lips trail down your neck.

“You are one fine specimen, and I'm not saying that because I'm drunk,” you moan.

All you can focus on is the way his fingers are rubbing on your clothed clit and how his lips are sucking on your neck.

“Y/N!” You snap out of your trance and look at her. “We’re going to be late. Come on.”

“Right.”

You two leave the bathroom and head in the direction of your first class, Criminal Justice 101.

“Tell me what he looks like. It’ll help me try to find him.”

“Curly brown hair, brown eyes, very tall, slim build, and he was wearing a sweater vest. Not what you’d think he’d be like. He knew what he was doing, that’s for sure,” you chuckle. “I don’t know anything about him.”

“You just know what his tongue and cock feels like.”

“Madison!” You look away once and run into someone who is reading a book. “Watch where you’re going.”

“That is no way to speak to a professor, young lady.”

You look back and see the Dean of the school escorting one of the new professors. You lock eyes with the new professor with wide eyes. He’s the man you fucked last night. He recognizes you but doesn’t say anything about it. Madison can guess what happened based on how you’re looking at him.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“No, it was my fault,” he chuckles.

“Come, Dr. Reid. I’ll show you to Criminal Justice 101.”

“Wait, you’re teaching that class?” you ask, stopping the two men from leaving.

“Yeah.”

Madison grabs your shoulders and grins at Dr. Reid.

“Lucky for us, we’re your students.”

“Can’t wait,” he chuckles.

The Dean leaves expecting Dr. Reid to follow but the young doctor leans closer to you so you’re the only one who hears him.

“It’s a shame you covered them up. I’ll just have to make more.”

Your mouth drops open as he jogs to catch up with the Dean. You’re totally fucked. It’ll make class more interesting though.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fluff

[washeduphazbin]

I binged through your amazing writing and would love to request something, if you don't mind? Adam x girlfriend how he would react to getting his wings caressed for the first time? Maybe getting inspired to do some more spicy caressing of his own?👀

First of all thank you so much! I’m so happy you like my stuff and YES I CAN ABSOLUTELY DO THIS. I hope you like this it might be a little different than what you had in mind! ;)

CONTENT WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. ADAM BEING ADAM, NSFW CONCEPTS, MASTURBATION ON ADAMS.

---

Soulmates were a weird concept, especially for Angels. Theoretically Adam knew he had one, thought it was Lilith, WRONG, thought maybe God made Eve for him next, ALSO WRONG! So Adam just stuck to sucking face and fucking the tightest pussy of the hottest winners in heaven and that was fine…until you came into the picture. You weren’t a normal Winner, in fact you weren’t a winner at all but one of the Seraphim training under Sera. At first he was going to dump as soon as he got what he wanted; even if that meant facing the wrath of Sera…but for some reason you were different.

You weren’t as charmed as many of the others when he pulled out his first man and first dick status, in fact you seemed almost indifferent to it.

Unfortunately for the both of you Adam loved to hate a challenge.

Before the Angel knew what had hit him you had claimed the title of his girlfriend before he even fully understood what he was asking.

But fuck he understood the Soulmate Concept now. For someone one who was created with pure goodness in your soul, to judge right from wrong, you were one cold, calculated bitch when it came to the idea of exterminating Sinners. He thought you’d fight with him on the concept but instead you were in agreement, heaven was for Winners only, and that was that. Plus who cared if a few Sinners died, they were overpopulated anyway.

It also helped that you had the tightest pussy he’s ever stuck his massive dick into and the best mouth to suck him off. He’d reciprocate…sometimes…only if you begged.

“Sugartits?”

“Hm?” You stretched your arms above your head, you were wearing one of his shirts, it was way too big on you hanging off your shoulders. He grinned lazily his hand sliding up your thigh, “Adam.” You warned,

“What?” He laughed, “you can’t just sit there looking all sexy and expect me not to try to fuck ya.”

“I can expect that because I just sucked you off like three times.” You raised a brow, “and you came in my mouth. Three times. Which shouldn’t be possible anatomically and not to mention I swallowed.”

“Dickmaster baby.” He pointed to his crotch with a sly grin, “gotta live up to my namesake.”

“Well, live up to it another time. My pussy is off limits for now.” Adam groaned, “not my fault you went too hard yesterday dickmaster and I’m not in the mood today. Now Roll over.”

“Hey we’ve talked about this you’re not putting anything in my butt.” He bristled, his wings puffing out behind him, you huffed.

“I’m not asking to peg you dumbass I’m asking you to turn around so I can groom your wings.”

“…groom my wings?” Adam blinked a few times giving you an odd look. “The fuck you on about?”

“Have you never groomed yourself?”

“No…” he watched your nose scrunch up,

“Yeah. I can tell. You’re lucky I love you,” he watched you lean forward and peck his lips Adam chuckled brushing his stubble against your cheek. “Adam!”

“Love ya’ too.” He grinned reaching out and squeezing your ass before turning around, spreading his wings wide, “be gentle with me.”

“Whatever you say, you delicate flower.” You grumbled as he snickered, drumming his fingers on his thigh. Before you began grooming him, he felt you reach around the pudge of his stomach, kissing the side of his neck adoringly. Adam swallowed and felt a chill of pleasure run down his spine. " I love you.” You said more earnestly than before, eyes softening “Just try to relax and enjoy this.”

“I love you too…” he grumbled softly, his eyes fluttering as your fingers ran through the feathers at the base of his back. Adam instantly felt his body drop as your hands pulled at the mussed feathers. "Fuck doll, whatever you're fucking doing, keep doing it." Adam panted,

"I'm preening you." You mused, "First time?"

"Apparently. Shit, this is totally turning me on; you should do this tits out. While we face a mirror-" He tried to turn to look at you but you forced his head back to its original position. Adam let out an annoyed sound,

"Gross. Only you'd find basic hygiene a turn-on." You teased, pulling out a few loose feathers as he groaned at the feeling, you hummed placing one of his golden feathers behind your ear. You leaned forward to pepper his face in feather light kisses, he grunted but pressed his back against your body, his own way of asking for more attention. With nimble fingers you continued to preen and clean his feathers, his nails dug into the tops of his thighs.

A part of him wanted to flip you over and pound your body into the mattress until you’re crying, but another part of him didn’t want you to stop touching him. He wanted you to continue preen him, making him look pretty, but as you continued Adam felt his body burn with need as his dick strained against his boxers.

He couldn’t even fuckin’ ask you to suck him off without you scolding him.

“Anddddd done!” You hummed brushing your fingers through his wings one last time before hopping off the bed. Adam let out a sharp breath through his nose spreading out his wings, they already felt a million times lighter than they had in eons. You stood in front of him, looking all cute and sexy in his oversized shirt hiding your thighs and panties from view. With a crooked grin he grabbed you by the waist with his giant hands and pulled you into his lap, you giggled slotting your arms around his neck. “Hi baby,” you cooed tilting your head innocently to the side like you couldn’t feel his raging boner against your thigh. He clicked his tongue in annoyance flicking the golden feather tucked behind your ear,

“You gonna fuckin’ keep that thing behind your ear all day?”

You pouted, adorably, and brushed your finger against the feather in his hair. Adam shivered and swore he could still feel your phantom hands against his sensitive wings. “I was planning on keeping it there forever I’ll have you know.” You crossed your arms over your chest, “that way everyone knows who. I. Belong. Too.” You poked his stomach for emphasize and he let out a low, possessive growl. His nails digging into your hips underneath the shirt you wore,

“Fuck doll face. That’s so fuckin’ sexy. You’re turning me on SO much right now.” He grinned all teeth and blown pupils. Another giggle from your lips as your white wings brushed against his cheeks in a soothing manner.

“I can tell dickmaster extraordinaire.” You drew your finger down across his lips, his smile turned into a frown he knew that look in your eyes all too well.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”

“Unfortunately I have a very important, cannot reschedule meeting with Sera.” You mused squishing his cheeks between the palms of your hands as he growled. “Love you don’t wait up!” You slipped out of his arms before Adam could snatch you back up and tell Sera to go fuck herself.

Not really he was too intimidated by the Seraphim to try disobeying her to her face.

The absolute struggle of dating an actual angel and who wasn’t just a Winner. He grumbled as you snapped your fingers changing back into your normal attire. His shirt was folded nicely on the bed next to him, he snatched it up, blatantly sniffing it. It smelled like you, him and sex the man could get off on just that smell alone.

“Be good and I might let you fuck me later.”

“If I even want to fuck your sorry ass later.” Adam grunted indignantly leaning back on the bed.

“The day you don’t you wanna fuck something with a pulse I’ll personally call God down here because that’s a goddamn miracle.” You argue blowing him a kiss, to which he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Maybe I just won’t wanna fuck you specifically what about that. Your pussy’s not that good.” Adam flipped you off as you raised an eyebrow, an arm resting on your hips.

“Oh yeah? That a challenge?”

An internal war raged in Adam’s head. On one hand go all in, don’t let the sexy broad in front of him win. Don’t admit her pussy squeezes him like a vice and is better than all of his previous wives pussy’s before her. Don’t admit that he’d probably let himself fall just for a chance to be with her again if it came to that. The thought alone made him want to gag; on the other hand admit she’s right and no one will ever compare to her and she’s ruined all other woman for him forever.

“Fuck you.” He settled on.

“Later if you behave.” You promised spreading your wings with a coy grin before sliding out of the room. Adam fell back against the bed with a loud groan, life’s a fuckin’ bitch.

—

Baby cakes: It’s running later than I thought. I’ll make it up to you I promise, there’s some things I need to work out.

Original Dick: You’ve gotta be kidding me Ive been waiting all day for you

Baby Cakes: I know :( I’m sorry. Can you entertain yourself until I get back?

Original Dick: I don’t wanna jerk off. I wanna be in your pusy

Original Dick:*pussy

Baby Cakes: I know and I’m SORRY. When I get back promise you can do whatever you want.

Original Dick: anything?

Baby Cakes: …yes. Don’t make me regret it Adam.

Original Dick: at least gimmie some good jack off material. A nude? Titty pic? Anything?

Baby Cakes: You’re such a pain in my ass. Give me twenty.

—

With the deal struck Adam figured it wouldn’t be such a pain to relieve himself before you came back from your meeting. After all who knew how long you’d be held up, and he didn’t need much for what planned to do with you.

That however was for another time and place. He settled on the bed with a loud sigh stretching his arms up into the sky, and spreading his large wings across the bed. Adam waved his hand summoning the shirt you wore earlier and brought it up to his nose, it still smelled and he groaned into the fabric. He was tempted to never wash it again, his wings fluttered almost like they were demanding your fingers caress them like you did earlier. Adam grunted staring down at his large digits knowing almost immediately he wouldn’t derive the same pleasure as before, but touched his own wings nonetheless. He shivered at the sensation and it wasn’t quite as unpleasant as he suspected but nothing like earlier.

Still there were hints of arousal as he preened himself; massaging the base of his wings moving upwards towards the tips. His other hand lowering down into his boxers, he wasn’t quite hard yet but he was certainly getting there.

His phone buzzed, Adam had half a mind to turn it off but seeing it was from you had his dick pulsing. He snatched his phone unlocking it quickly only to be met with a picture of you, face flushed in an empty conference room. Your shirt was pulled all the way up exposing your white lace bra and the swell of your perfect fuckable tits. Adam grinned feeling his dick grow in his hand, now that’s what he liked to see, he pumped himself a few times hissing at the sensation. His finger swirled around the head smearing pre all over himself, “come on baby. Show daddy some more, can’t get off to just your bra pic, that’s weak sauce.”

Like you read his mind another buzz, followed by another picture, this time your bra was completely off showing off your boobs, his feather clutched between your two fingers as your tongue licked up the plumes. Your other two fingers seemed to be buried in your pants, clearly teasing your clit.

Baby Cakes: Don’t wanna wait till later big daddy. Want you now :( stupid meeting. Just wanna be your cock slut.

Fuckkkkkkkkk. Adam groaned releasing his phone momentarily so he could moan into the palm for his hand. His cock throbbed as he reread the words over and over again, he could almost hear you saying them as you rode his thick dick whimpering so nicely with your wings spread behind you. Adam began pumping his dick faster, thrusting into the palm of his hand, squeezing it trying to mimic the feel of your tight, hot cunt.

It wasn’t working.

He cursed again, bucking his hips desperately trying to chase the release he’s wanted all fucking day.

Another buzz. This time a voice memo, shit how were you finding time to send him all this and not enough time to call off the meeting and come home.

Adam chose to ignore the fact lunch and dinner beaks existed.

He hit play already thrusting into his hand and choked back a sound as your high pitched whine played loudly through the speaker of his phone. You WERE playing with yourself, you fuckin’ brat, you were soooo getting punished.

You were moaning softly trying to be as quiet as possible, he could hear the squelch of your fingers dipping in and out of your wet pussy, he new you were dripping, clenching around fingers much too small to satisfy yourself at this point. Almost like he was willing you to hear him Adam began to speed up to match your pace, heavy breathing mixed with your own as he heard your breathing hitch before letting out a shuddering moan. He wasn’t long after, spilling all over his hand and boxers, “she’s so fuckin’ dead.” He said with a grin spreading across his face whipping his cum soaked hand on the bedspread next to him.

It was your bedspread after all.

—

I hope this lived up to some of your expectations my dear. I throughly enjoyed writing it, next out will be Lucifer x reader x Lilith poly relationship and I am very excited! If you wanna be tagged in that just let me know! <3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #x reader #adam x reader #adam x you #answering asks #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin adam x reader #Hazbin Adam x you #spicy content #nsft #not safe for tumblr #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel

[lovifie]

No One Needs to Know... Right?

This is my humble little addition to @glitterypirateduck O, Captain! Challenge ❤️

Prompt 17, 69 and 83

Warning: alcohol intake, smut, a bit rough Price, oral sex, dacryphilia if you squint (like, just a line) and I love to make him desperate for pussy. Enjoy ❤️

“I have told you once, and I'll tell you twice, Kate.” Price says, pinching his nose bridge as exasperation fills him. “I am not, working with Adamson.”

“And I have already told you twice, John.” Laswell answered, just as annoyed. “That there is no other choice, this is coming from upstairs and there is no room for negotiation. I'm sorry”.

It wasn't the first time that Price had needed to work along with another unit, but Colonel Adamson was surely the worst.

The old man constantly had his head inside his own ass, too busy complimenting himself to care about the success of the mission or about everyone getting back home safely. 

He was not a man you would like to have to trust your life on and know John didn't have another option. So all be could do, was get mentally prepared for what was to come. 

And to do so, he relied on his old run-down trusty pub just out of base. He sat down on the stool he always did, ordered his scotch on the rocks as always and remained silent, letting the voices in his head quiet down.

Just silence.

Alone.

Like always.

“I'll have the same he's having” A female voice next to him brought him back.

He looks to his side, staring at the woman sitting down next to him. The pub is not necessarily fancy, but still, the jeans, t-shirt and sweatshirt you are wearing give it away you got here soon after work and not necessarily for pleasure. 

“It's this seat taken?” You ask the man, worried now that he won't stop staring at you. 

“No, no, please sit down.” He answers quickly, the smile on his face contagious. “Hard day at work?”

“What gave it away?” You ask puffing a laugh, you look down at his glass. “Yours wasn't that great either or that the celebration?”

He chuckles, wide shoulder shaking slightly as he does. “Definitely not celebration.” He raises the glass to his lips, your eyes following the glass and staring for maybe a second too long on his lips. 

It is easy to fall into a comfortable conversation with the man, a mix of dad jokes and a level of understanding that someone with the same job would have. Still, neither of you talks about your jobs, both because it is the reason you are in a pub getting drunk and also because it is not an easy job to talk about.

You don't notice how close you have gotten to each other until you are resting your head on your hand with your elbow resting on the bar and you try to rest the other arm on the backrest of the stool only to find Price is already resting his in there. 

You look at his face as you lay your arm on top of his, looking for any sign of discomfort, only to find that easy smile on his face again. You open your palm, letting it rest over his massive biceps; the wild thought of it around your neck as he fucks you from behind running through your mind for a second.

“I think I have drunk too much.” You admit chuckling, rubbing your face with your other hand. 

Now, Price is not a stupid man; and the way you bit your lip unconsciously when you touched him, your eyes getting darker just for a second let him know perfectly fine what your feelings were.

“Want me to walk you home, sweetheart?” He asks, looking at your face to see your reaction; and when he sees you look at his eyes only to drop your eyes to his lips he smiles widely. 

“Well, aren't you a gentleman…” You mumble standing up, taking your card out of your pocket to pay. 

“Please, my treat.” He says, taking his out as well. 

You quickly shake your head. “Nope, I'm paying tonight, sir. You can pay next time, how about that?” You ask, winking at him as you do. 

He chuckles, putting his card away amused with your antics and waiting for the bartender to charge you. Once done, he walks next to you, his hand on the small of your back. “How far away is your house?”

“My Airbnb actually, just down the road.” You answer, pointing with your finger where it is. 

Sadly, it doesn't take long to reach it, and even though you opened the door the two of you linger in the doorway. 

“You know… the weather broadcast said that it was going to rain tonight…” You say, knowing damn well the British man couldn't care less about the rain. 

“Oh no… I guess I better get inside, right?” He smiles, taking a step forward towards you. 

You quickly nod your head. “Yeah, we don't want you getting wet.” You pull his shirt, making him lean down and crush your lips with his. 

His arms find their way around your waist, hugging you close and pulling you up the floor. You barely manage to close the door once the two of you enter the flat; a mess of tongue, spit and drunk words spilling out of your mouths. 

Your legs find their way around his waist, him holding you up gentleman-like with both hands on your ass. He pulls you closer, letting you feel his growing erection against your clothed cunt; earning himself a moan falling for your lips. “Fuck…”

“John, sweet girl. That's my name, moan it loud so I know how good I'm making you feel, alright?” He asks, groaning when you grind yourself against him. 

“John…” You moan softly, pulling your head back and that's all he needs to attack your neck. Pulling his tongue flat against your collarbone and up to your ear like a desperate dog. 

He sits you on top of the sofa backrest, moving his hands to pull your sweatshirt and t-shirt off. Groaning when he sees the sports bra, almost offended that there is another layer to peel.

You chuckle at his desperation, only for him to suddenly move his hips forward against your cunt making you moan. “That's better.” He murmurs against your mouth once he manages to take off your bra. 

He leans down, catching your nipple with his teeth before sucking it inside his mouth, groaning as he does. His arms circle your middle, pulling you tightly as he keeps grinding your core; too desperate to remain immobile. 

He moves lower, his tongue running from the middle of your chest down your boob up to your side, bitting down over your ribs making your moan mix with a hiss. 

Your hands find his hair at the back of his head, pulling hard enough to force him to peel his face back. Looking back at you, eyes dark with desire, lips red, swollen and wet for the kiss and licking at you and stupidly smug smile on his face. Makes you want to wipe it from his face.

“Up, to the bedroom, now.” You order, pulling him closer with your legs around his hips.

“Yes, ma’am” He chuckles, picking you up again; groaning when you lower your face to attack his neck. Licking up his neck, feeling his heartbeat under his skin just as fast as yours. 

He enters the doorway to your room, hitting your knee against it as he does making you curse. “Fuck, John. That's how your aim is going to be tonight?” You ask teasingly, your knee hurting just enough to complain.

“Oh, shut up. My aim is impeccable, sweetheart” He answers scoffing, as he sits on the bed with you on his lap. 

“Aw, did I hit a weak spot?” You ask, cocking your head with a fake pout in your mouth.

“Darling, I don't have weak spo-” He cuts himself up with a struggling moan when you lower your hand to grab his erection through the clothes.

You chuckle against his mouth, kissing his half-open mouth. “I want to taste you, John” You whisper keeping your eyes focused on his expression. 

He smiles, happy with your urge to satisfy him, and kisses you back. “Yeah? You want me to fuck your throat, sweet girl? Why don't you do it with your pretty pussy resting on my face, hm?”

You whine back, brain slowly turning to mush; barely managing to stop kissing him for long enough to stand up and take off the rest of your clothes. He does the same, lying down using your pillow to prop his head up and staying with an arm extended inviting you in. And fuck if the sight is nothing but inviting, you knew his dick was big just from sitting on top but you were not ready to see the big, uncut, thick piece of meat sitting between his legs; too heavy to stand up on his own and instead slowly dripping precum onto his thick thigh. Watering your mouth at the thought of how his happy trail will rub against your clit later on the night. 

You crawl back onto the bed, completely forgetting about the sitting on his face part and focusing on getting him into your mouth. Until a hard slap lands on your ass making you cry and turn your head to look at him offended. 

“That's not where your pussy is supposed to be at, innit?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. And when you take too long to move for his liking, he takes matters into his own hands grabbing your hips to hoist you on top of him with ease which only adds to your current horniness.

“Ffffuck, that's a sight I would fucking kill to wake up to every day” He groans behind you, deep voice making you clench with desperation which makes him chuckle. “Hmm, she likes it when I talk about her.”

And it feels like you are intruding on whatever is going on between him and your pussy with the way he is talking about it like it is her whole person. So not wanting to interrupt, you bend down fisting his dick in your hand as you wet kiss his tip. 

“Aww, did you get jealous that I was giving her some attention, darling?” He says, apparently completely unaffected by your attention to his cock which only makes you crankier.

You get his tip on your mouth, completely ignoring him when suddenly he moves his hand down to the back of your head grabbing your hair in a fist and keeping your head in place only for him to begin to thrust his cock into your mouth and down your throat. 

You automatically start choking on it, gagging and wet sounds filling the rooms. You manage to relax just throat just a bit, which he takes as an invitation to shove his cock inside until your nose is plush against his balls. 

Tears prick your eyes at the abuse of your throat and the lack of air, hearing him groan at every convulsion of your throat around him and he only pulls back when you dig your fingernails on his thighs. 

The hand on your head pulls your head back making you arch your back as you gasp for air, thick threats of saliva still connecting your lips with his glistening dick as you cough.

“I asked you a question, I don't like it when I get ignored, love. Alright?” He asks a certain gentle tone to his voice that totally throws you out of place. You nod quickly, a croaky “yes” the only thing you are able to answer.

“Good girl.” He says, letting go of your hair to pet your head slightly pushing it to rest on his hip close to the pool of spit at the base of his cock. “Just lay there, darling. Let me enjoy my treat.” 

You have barely managed to get your breath back when he takes it away again by running his tongue from your clit all the way up to your ass, groaning as he does so. 

“So fucking delicious, so fucking good.” He groans, moving his arms under your tights to pull you impossibly closer to his mouth, making you moan loudly when he sucks your clit inside his mouth rubbing his tongue against it. 

He looks pussy drunk already, a chaos to the way he is eating you up; going up and down, side to side, fucking your holes with his tongue, grabbing your ass with his massive hands pulling them apart to get the whole view, eating you out like a starved man. 

It's hard to get air into your lungs with the way you are moaning again and again, grabbing onto his hips to ground you feeling him pull you again and again against his face; it should be you fucking his face instead it feels the complete opposite. 

“Fuck, John, I'm gonna…” You moan, toes curling as you feel your orgasm approach. “I'm gonna come, John. Don't stop, please, don't stop.”

He chuckles, delighted with your begging before shoving two of his thick fingers inside your cunt making you hiss at the sudden stretch and throwing you off, orgasm getting further away and making you whine pathetically at its loss. 

“Quiet down, I'm getting you there but I need your tight little pussy nicely wet and stretched before I get my cock in you.” He groans after spanking you again before he starts to move his finger in and out, adding a third one not too much later making you cry in pleasure. “You can take another one, right, love? You won't get my cock if you don't.”

“I can!” You moan embarrassedly fast. “I can, please, put it in, please.” You move your hips back against his hand, moaning loudly when he gets the last finger inside only keeping his thumb out to rub your clit making you moan loudly against the skin of his lower stomach 

“Attagirl, c’mon, sweet girl. Come around my fingers so I can fuck your pretty pussy all nice and sweet.” He cheers you on, moving his hand faster. You bite down on his abs, the layer of fat that covers them catching between your lips making him hiss as you come, clutching down so hard his fingers get spitted out of your cunt. 

He groans, licking your juices again making you jolt at the feeling, shoving his whole face against your cunt getting drenched in your juices. Only pulling back when he runs out of breath, letting you fall down on his side, your leg still resting on top of his chest.

“Pretty thing winking at me and everything.” He coos, running his thumb along your hole making you shiver and slightly slapping his leg. 

“Let me breathe, for fuck sake.” You barely managed to say, still struggling to breathe. He chuckles, moving your leg off his chest and grabbing you by your waist to sit you on top of his abdomen not caring about getting his torso wet. 

He rests his hands on your hips, with you resting yours on his chest and he looks at you with a smile on his face but still trying to catch your gaze. “You alright, darling?” He asks, his thumb rubbing circles on your hips.

“Yeah.” You answer nodding, noticing a certain tense feeling leaving his body. “I just need a second, that was… that was something.”

He laughs, his eyes disappearing into thin lines as he does. “I hope something good… do you wanna stay on top? Set the pace?” 

You nod quickly, agreeing it is possible the best for the both of you and you look behind you. “We can wait, love. We have no rush- ah, fuck.” He groans when his tip catches onto your entrance, making the both of you moan as you slowly sink deeper. The stretch of his cock inside of you leaves you with shaky legs as you dig your fingernails on his chest. You bend down, resting your head on his shoulder needing a moment to adjust. He doesn't say anything, kissing your temple softly and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

You grind your hips against his, moving slowly, his dick barely moving but still enough to make the both of you softly moan. You sit back up, resting your hands on his chest as you start to slowly move up and down, his tips deliciously grazing your cervix kissing it with each thrust, so deep you almost feel it on your stomach. 

You move slowly, choosing depth over speed; his hands on your waist helping you up and down as his eyes travel down your body to where you are connected to him.

“That's it, darling. Take what you need.” Price says between moans, not moving his hips. And if he hasn't fucked you stupid already, you would. You would turn the man into a puddle, make a mess out of him, have him babbling nonsense, too pussy drunk to even remember his name. But instead, it is you the one who can barely stand straight, whining about the tiredness of your legs aching for a break and you bend forward resting your hands on the headboard of the bed, wanting to cry.

“I can't… please, move. I can't, please, John, please.” You cry, legs shaking too exhausted to keep moving.

“Shh, sweet girl, don't cry.” He says, propping himself on his elbows to lick at your cheek where a tear spills. “It only turns me on more, love.”

He lays back down, chuckling when you whine again and he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you close, setting his feet on the mattress just to start thrusting up into your core hard and fast.

You cry in pleasure at the sudden change in rhythm, arching your back and making it easier for him to get your nipple in his mouth, moaning and biting around it. 

“Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” He moans, forehead pressed against your chest. “Cum around my cock, darling. I want to feel you choke my dick like you did with my fingers, c’mon, pretty girl, come for me.”

And it is like he has godly powers over you because with the way he keeps thrusting up and at the same time as he talks to you has you coming embarrassing fast. Clutching his dick like a vice making him struggle to keep moving but without giving up, coming inside just after a couple more thrusts. 

You lay down on his chest, both of you breathing hard but without moving. He pets your hair, brushing it back behind your ear, running his finger through undoing some of the knots he finds. “You're alright, darling?”

“Greater than great, John.” You answer smiling, raising a bit to kiss him on the lips, slightly moving your hips making you both groan. “A shower?”

“A shower indeed.” He chuckles, kissing you deeply for what feels like a second before helping you stand up before standing up himself. 

It is a sweet innocent shower, soft kisses on your shoulder and sweet kisses on his shoulder blade; helping the other clean up like a couple who have known each other for years. 

Once outside, you lay on your bed naked looking at him as he dresses up. He bends down to give you one more kiss before muttering: “Never in my life have I hated my job as much as right now for making me leave you like this, and with the kind of job I have it says a lot, sweet girl.”

You chuckle shaking your head, softly slapping his cheek. “You are just being dramatic, John.”

He grumbles back, standing up and you walk after him to the door hiding behind it once he opens it. You peek your head outside, saying goodbye and once you think he is leaving he turns around. 

“You know… I'm gonna be quite busy this week, but next week, same day and time as today I'll probably drop by the bar again… in case we coincide again…” He says, indirectly asking you out making you chuckle at the fact he is shy to ask you out as if he didn't have you choking on his dick just an hour ago.

“I'm sure we will, John.” You say, making him smile fondly. He gives you one more kiss before he disappears down the street.

The next morning, Price is not so happy. He barely makes it into the brief room before the rest of the team walks in. But it's not his boys who make him mad, it's the colonel who walks after them, cane in hand. 

“Colonel Adamson” Prices greets him, greeting his teeth as he does.

“John.” The older man answers, a disgusting smile on his face as if he just told the best joke of his life. “So you are still alive… maybe you are not as bad as I thought.”

“I don't need to prove myself to you, and this is merely a business meeting.” He says, already done with him pointing to the empty chair before him. “Please, sit.”

“Actually, sorry to disappoint you, John. But I retired last year, I'm not the one working with you this time.” He says, walking closer to him, raising the cane to slap on the opposite hand. “It's my daughter, you see? And if I hear that anything happens to her under your watch, you better die on that mission, son. Or I'll take care of it. I don't want a scratch, bruise or tear on my girl's face, understood?”

“She'll be fine.” Price answers, not really threatened by the man, feeling that if his daughter is anything as repulsive and just plain horrible to deal with no one will even think about laying a finger on him. 

“There you are.” A voice draws his attention, a voice uncomfortably familiar. “I told you to wait for me, Dad.”

“Sorry, dear. Just wanted to greet my old friend before leaving you at it.” He says the first genuine smile John has ever seen on the man, and it is only because he is talking to you. 

His daughter.

Of the man that just threatened him about touching you.

Is okay, he just needs to play it cool and no one needs to no. 

Right?

“Oh. Hi, John.” You say enthusiastically. “Why didn't you say you were coming here too? You could have stayed the night.”

Fuck

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[starphasedd]

Ghost makes sure Graves knows his place.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader drabble (nsfw)

I'm obsessed with the idea that once Ghost finds out that Graves has a thing for you, he toys with him in the worst way. Because Graves is down bad--and he's a slimey punk. He deserves it.

I did not proofread this. Just pure, unfiltered, smut straight from my noggin.

It was an uncontrollable urge.

Your secret relationship with Ghost had only been full-fledged for a few months. But in those few months--you spent an extraordinary amount of time together. You got to know him better than anyone--he opened up to you. Not much, but more than you'd seen him with anyone else. And the sex? It was fucking incredible.

He got to know your body extremely quickly. Anytime you got to be alone, he had you half naked and buried underneath him. His massive hips smashing forward into yours--his big cock splitting your tiny cunt open. He made you feel so fucking good, any chance he got. He learned your body with expertise you'd never seen before. It wasn't experience-per say. Because he wasn't that sexually experienced. But he was an expert in combat techniques. He was good at analyzing and planning his attacks with a one hundred percent follow-through. He did the same with your body.

He loved the feeling of your core wrapped around him. He loved the sound of your sweet mewls as he wrought pleasure on your body that you'd never felt before. He loved the way your face curled into that same cock-drunk expression--how your glossy lips parted to reveal pearly white teeth as you let every sound slip out naturally.

But he especially loved how your tiny hands frantically grabbed for him--how you'd rather hug him close to you than anything else. There was something so intimate about the way you made love to him. And it drove him wild.

So when he started catching on to Graves--he had to physically contain himself.

On one occasion, he came around a corner to see Graves nearly boxing you in against a table. You had your arms crossed, a blank expression on your face as you tried your best not to snap at him. Ghost knew you had a particular dislike for Graves--you were annoyed by his presence alone. Graves was, again, trying to convince you to go on a date with him.

You and him went way back--all the way to the academy. He's had a thing for you since then. But you never gave him the time or day. And with your growing liking of Ghost, Graves knew his time was limited.

He tried every time he saw you. And you gave him the same response every time. Well, a lack there of, actually. You blatantly ignored him--like he didn't exist. And when Ghost was around, you always gave all your attention to him. Graves was threatened by this, and it showed.

Ghost was so fucking proud of you for this.

He wanted to make a lasting impression. So every night Graves was around, Ghost marked you. The two of you never had loud sex--your relationship was kept private. And Ghost didn't want any other man to have the pleasure of hearing your sweet moans. But he found his ways to mark his territory. He would leave little bite marks on your neck, or fuck you particularly hard so you wobbled a bit the next day. And Graves knew. Fuck yeah, he knew alright.

Graves got more aggressive after that started. He even put his hands on you on one occasion. Ghost's fingers twitched at his side as he watched Graves slide his hand up the curve of your spine. Only to see you pull away and give him a mean look before walking towards Ghost. He couldn't help but grin under his mask.

That night, he fucks you hard. Whispering sweet praises to you in the dark.

"This little cunt belongs to me. Yeah, sweetheart?" He groans in your ear, his thrusts are hard and unfaultering.

All you can do is cry out for him, eyes screwed tightly shut as your hands reach for him. But he isn't there, when you grab for him. You open your eyes to see him leaning up. Now he's sitting up straight on his knees, cock still thrusting into your wet heat as he reaches into his pocket.

He pulls out his phone.

His free hand comes down to lift your shirt over your breasts, revealing the swollen lumps bouncing harmoniously under your black sports bra. He keeps fucking you like this, and the flash from his phone turns on.

It isn't a picture--it didn't flash once. No, he's taking a video.

You blush at the thought--but can't help the sweet moans that tumble from your lips as Ghost keeps fucking you. His free hand moves your panties to cover what he can of your sweet pussy.

You imagine the camera can see his big cock filling you repeatedly, but he only moved your panties to the side this time--not ripping them off per usual. Now you can tell his true intentions.

You thought for a moment this may be for him--but no. If it were for him, he'd have you bare assed like he usually does. No, your important bits are all covered. Your plump breasts are concealed under your bra. The naughtiest part of your cunt is covered by your panties. The only thing he can see is his big cock thrusting into your wet cavern.

He continues recording as he fucks you, and his free hand comes up to slip his thumb into your mouth. You close your eyes, closing your lips around the digit to suck down hard.

"Perfect little minx, just for me, yeah?" He groans out.

The camera light on his phone nearly blinds you when your eyes snap open. You cum hard and he quickly follows after.

You lay there, his cock still burried inside you. He drops his phone, bracing his arms on either side of you as he catches his breath.

"He'll regret the next time he puts his hands on you."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #smut

[lycheedr3ams]

Closet Fun | fem!reader x Dom!Konig

MDNI

Konig joined 141 needing a fresh start, and on a slow day on base, Soap suggested that you, Gaz, and Konig play hide and seek. But when you're hiding in a closet with Konig, things get heated....

TW: konig is a tad mean/demanding, thigh riding, locked in a closet, Konig is a teaser, use of Maus (I can't help myself)

Not proofread, I wrote this fast so it's lowkey lazy

this is my first cod fic I'm publishing plz be nice

It was Soap’s idea for him, Gaz, you, and Konig to play hide and seek one slow day on base. It was Team 141’s day off, but most everyone else was occupied. Ghost opted to go to a bar by himself, not interested in the other members’ gam

“Okay, Soap’s it!” Gaz said after the third round. 

All took off in different directions, and you found a spare closet down one dingy hallway. You quickly hid inside and peeked out through the crack to check for Soap. But then you saw Konig’s massive form, and you opened the door and whispered.

“Konig, hide in here!” you called. 

Konig hesitated for a moment before hiding in the closet with you before you shut the door.

“Damn it,” you said as you stood on you tiptoes. “I can’t see out.”

Konig wordlessly leaned down slightly so that he could look through the locker-like slits in the door. But as he did so, his wide shoulders gently brushed against your back. You couldn’t help the way you shivered. Konig smirked.

“Everything okay, Maus?” he asked as his voice lowered. You nodded silently. “Don’t worry, Soap’s not out there.” 

Even though Konig was behind you, you could feel the way he was looking at you, could almost taste his predatory instinct as he stared down at you. You were scared to turn around, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, but it wasn’t because Soap’s footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Konig leaned down, and his breath through his sniper hood ghosted you ear.

“Be quiet, Maus,” he whispered in your ear. You shivered and you breath stopped. “Wouldn’t want Soap to know we’re in here, would we?”

You shook your head. You dared to make eye contact with him out of the corner of you eye, and the way he was looking at you scared you as much as it aroused you. 

“Konig…” you sighed as you closed your eyes. But they flew open once you realized how you said his name. 

He laughed quietly in your ear. “Yes, what is it, Maus?” he purred lowly. 

You blushed and screwed your eyes shut. You wished you could just tell him wordlessly what you needed. But Konig pushed.

“What is it, Maus?” he asked. You could practically hear his smirk. You shivered.

Suddenly, Konig’s voice dropped even lower, and even quieter. He breathed in, and whispered, 

“Tell me what you need.”

You moaned breathlessly. 

“Fuck,” Konig murmured. “You’re irresistible.”

“Konig,” You said as you turned around and looked up at him with doe eyes. A lamb staring down the wolf. Konig’s pupils were so dilated that you could barely see his irises. The only thing you could think to do was put you hand on his forearm and look up at him desperately.

Konig sat lazily on the edge of the table in the closet and smirked. 

“Use your words, Maus. Have you forgotten how to say anything other than my name?”

Konig laughed gently when you blushed and looked at him with wide eyes. You hid your face in your hands. When you worked up the courage to look at him again, you saw how smug and confident he looked, leaned up against the table with his legs wide enough for you to stand between. You slowly walked forward between his legs and looked up at him as you gently put your hand on his chest. He instantly started breathing deeper. Like petting the stomach of a bear. You looked up at him through your lashes as you kept you hand on his chest. He looked down at you though hooded eyes. Your hand gently trailed down his chest and stopped when you reached his abs. You couldn’t help but notice how his cock was straining in his pants.

“Tell me, Maus. What. Do. You. Need?” he said huskily, his patience thinning.

“You.” You said as you stared into his eyes. 

He looked like he could murder you. “Say it again.”

“You,” you breathed, more earnest. “I need you.” 

Konig wrapped his arms around you and leaned down.

“Lift my hood. Come under with me,” he said with a hint of playfulness. 

You hesitantly lifted his hood and did as he instructed. You shared the same air, taking in each other’s presence despite not being able to see, before Konig crashed his lips onto yours and trapped you in his arms. You instantly whimpered into his mouth, and he groaned. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. You broke for air, gasping.

“The door…” you murmured. “It’s not locked.”

Konig leaned forward, keeping you close against him, and locked the door with a quiet click. But he was wordless as he kept you underneath his hood. You gingerly pecked his bottom lip before he took you lips in his again. 

“Konig…” you whimpered into his mouth. Konig used the opportunity to gently shove his tongue into your mouth. You held onto him tighter. He moved his hands from you back to grip your waist. He groaned. You couldn’t help the way you pressed your thighs together and whimpered. 

“My poor Maus,” Konig said against your lips with a smile. “Do you need help?”

“Yes,” you nodded shyly. 

Konig put his hands on your hips and guided him to his thigh. 

“Spread your legs,” he instructed. You instantly obeyed, and Konig tugged you closer and onto his thigh. You squeaked, and his cock twitched in his pants. He held your waist firmly. You held onto his shoulders and looked up at him.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked. You blushed. “Get to riding.”

You looked away shyly before moving your hips against Konig’s muscular thigh. Your mouth fell open and soft whimpers escaped your mouth as you grinded against him. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Konig whispered as he leaned over you. You looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“They’ll find us…” you said as you rode his thigh.

“No, they won’t, don’t worry,” Konig soothed. He smirked as you rode his thigh desperately, rolling your hips hardly. “The door is locked. Just be quiet, and they won’t know we’re here.” 

When you looked back up at him, he lifted his hood slightly and kissed you passionately again. He began to bounce his leg, and you moaned.

“Shh, Maus, shh,” he soothed as he moved his lips to your jawline. “Don’t want them to find us, do we?”

“Feels so good…” you whimpered. Konig smirked. 

“Yeah, I can tell,” he teased. “I can feel how wet you are through my pants.” 

You whimpered. Konig’s lips moved to your neck, and you let breathless moans slip.

“You like that?” Konig asked as he nibbled you neck. You breathed out deeply.

“Yes!” your hips moved earnestly.

“That’s it, ride my thigh, Maus. Fuck,” he breathed against your neck. “You ride it so good.” 

“Ah!” you breathed. Konig laughed. Konig lifted his thigh so that your feet weren’t touching the ground, and all your weight was on his thigh. You gripped his shoulders tightly. He laughed and licked you neck. 

“That’s it, Maus,” he cooed against you neck. “Come on my thigh.”

“Fuck!” you said quietly. Konig laughed heatily.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself,” he teased. 

Suddenly, Soap and Gaz’s voices echoed through the hallways. They jostled opened doors and were getting closer. You stopped grinding on his thigh and looked up at Konig, panicked. 

“Don’t fucking stop,” Konig growled as his eyes darkened. “Don’t fucking stop riding my thigh.”

You obeyed with a blush, and your heart jumped when Soap jiggled and pulled the closet handle. You gasped and looked at Konig, but he gripped your hips impossibly hard and got close to you ear.

“I told you to keep. Going,” he growled. You whimpered and ground down on his thigh. 

“You’re in there, I know it!” Soap called through the door. 

You kept riding Konig’s thigh as he gripped your hips.

“Konig!” You whimpered in a panic as your hips moved erratically.

He smirked under his mask. “You close? You gonna cum?”

You nodded as you dug your nails into his clothed shoulder. Gaz called Soap from farther down the hall, and both men disappeared as you came hard on Konig’s thigh. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” Konig praised as you gasped as you came down. “Gutes Mädchen,” he cooed as he kissed your lips. 

You looked up at him with kiss-reddened lips. 

“I’m not finished with you,” Konig growled. 

#konig x reader #konig #konig call of duty #konig imagine #konig smut #konig fic #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig headcanons #konig modern warfare #yandere konig #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #cod modern warfare #codmw2 #cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #call of duty mwii #cod mwf2 #cod mw fanfiction #cod mwii

[shh-om]

I was wondering if you could write a rough Beel x AFAB reader. Maybe he ate something that made him go feral, but he practically man handles the reader and fucks them hard. If you’re cool with it maybe add some biting?

Hi, thank you for the request <3 ~900 words!

cw : anal vaginal oral mildly feminine terms ? afab body tiny bit of biting aphrodisiac slash unintentional drug use

I’m thinking Beelzebub wasn’t paying attention to his assortment of chocolates from Madam Scream’s and ate one of those libido boosting candies, similar to ones in the human world, but much stronger

He knows you’re in there, the scent of you is strong enough to tell him that, and he struggles to hold himself back from opening the door. All the blood in his brain that would hold him back from staking claim on you has, unfortunately (fortunately) ran down to his dick, pulsing and leaking against his school uniform. And he can’t take it much longer, so he creaks open your door, only planning on begging for a handjob, knowing he’s so huge, but when he sees you his head gets so much fuzzier.

You smell so good, you look so pretty, and he knows that the spot between your legs would feel so good.

You startle as large hands engulf your waist and a hungry mouth claims your lips.

“Beel?” You breathe a puff of hot air across his lips. “What’re you…?”

“Need you so bad,” he barely lets the words put before his nipping teeth and tongue explore your neck and jaw. He lets out an odd, strangled growl, and suddenly you’re thrown onto your back with his hands holding your legs in the air by the ankles. Your bed cushions the fall, but all the air is knocked out of you.

Rough hands struggle with your uniform pants and belt, so you help him out a little by shimmying your hips, and when Beel folds you in half to meet your lips you feel the fabric of his own uniform meet your growing clit.

“Oh,” you breathe out. It sends a burning heat to your core.

After he’s hastily removed his pants and underwear, the burning hot tip of his cock ruts against your hole.

“I know it’s big, but I need you so bad,” Beel rubs his nose against yours making intense eye contact.

“Be- be careful,” you manage to say before he’s thrusting in.

Beelzebub has you in a mating press, and he presses his lips against yours. He’s slobbering and drooling, because relief hits him each time his balls swing against your ass.

He’s holding you so tight, a blubber of thank yous and praises about how good you feel around him coming out between sloppy pecks.

Each thrust is wild and erratic as his tip bullies your cervix and his length stretches your cunt. You feel like you’re being split in half on his dick, the way it’s pushing in so deep.

There’s a bulge in your abdomen each time he buries himself inside you completely. You’re being used, and Beel only seems half cognizant of what’s going on, using your hole as relief. Fuck, he’s treating you like a cock sleave, not his usual tender touches.

Sharp teeth press along your nipples, nipping and biting at the tender flesh there, making you squirm and cry. You feel Beelzebub’s lips twist into a smile at that and a couple kisses are peppered onto your chest.

His hold on your leg tightens, just to the point of mild pain, and burning hot semen floods into you. You cry out as it fills you, and even when Beel pulls out your tummy has a slight extra bump.

Before you begin to think it’s over Beelzebub is hovering his massive frame over you, leading his still hard cock down your throat.

The taste of your slick and his cum

Fuck, you feel raw as you drool and splutter over his dick. His balls hit your face and force you to keep them shut as he uses your throat as a fuckhole.

“You look so good when you’re choking on my cock,” he groans, feeding it further down your esophagus.

His thrusts are harsh and you know your throat will be sore for days to come.

You don’t know how long he’s been fucking you at this point, you know he returned to your pussy at some point, but you’re pulled out of your pleasure filled stupor by the nudging of his cockhead at your asshole.

Beelzebub runs his nose and tongue over your shoulders and chest as he pushes into your ass. The slide is (thankfully) lubricated well with his jizz and your wetness, but you still squeak and grab at his hair as you’re stretched impossibly wide.

He nibbles lightly at your neck, your breasts, giving soft kisses intermixed with his treatment of you. The world rushes around you as, while still inside of you, Beel sits up, holding your much smaller form to him as he leans on the walk near the bed, sitting with you still speared open on him.

“So warm,” he moans out as you grab at him. You feel completely helpless as he bounces your ass up and down on his dick, like a genuine fleshlight. It’s so much. You’ve never put anything nearly as wide as him in your hole, and he’s just taking you.

The hot friction against your ass, pressing through to make your cunt twitch, brings you to your nth orgasm, and as you do that Beel comes as well.

Beelzebub spills his seed into your ass one last time, interrupted by the rumble of his stomach. Let’s just hope he doesn’t eat anymore of those candies….

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me beel #obey me beel smut #obey me beelzebub smut #Beelzebub smut #obey me lemon #beelzebub lemon

[haroldthehuckleberry]

Step-Son MPreg

CW- mpreg, sex, language, Step-Son X Step-Dad storyline

I always fancied my step-dad since i met him i thought he was hot, hes a classic himbo, hes tall, muscly, blonde and stupid as can be.

I never knew if he was purposefully flirting with me of was just too stupid to understand it was wrong, but it being wrong made me so horny, id often wank off after he’d compare our hand sizes, snuggle up to me or even bend over to empty the dishwasher, anything and everything he did turned me on so hard! he always wore clothes that left nothing to the imagination, short-shorts, crop-tops or no tops! My actual dad loved this about him and it made me so jealous seeing them cuddle and kiss and then one day… my dad went on a business trip. it was now or never.

i came downstairs in my dressing-gown and boxers showing off my abs and mediocre pecs i walked into the living room to my step-dad half asleep on the couch only in his briefs and white running socks, sweating and scratching his perfect body when he saw me he woke up a little and pushed a finger into his underwear suggestively “oh… hey man” he said in a gruff half awake voice “h-hey” i stammered taken aback by how horny he already seemed my cock visibly swelled in my already tight boxers. he glanced down to it quickly and blushed “come here pal i have something to show you” he said gesturing for me to walk over- i follow his orders and sit next to him, he places his hand on the back of my head and pulls me in for a deep long kiss. i rest my hand on his groin and feel his cock twitch and harden through his pants i then slowly kiss his neck, then his chest, then his abs until his beautiful totem-pole of a cock is in-front of my face. i confidently slip it all into my throat in one go and he lets out a little moan.

i suck him off for what feels like an hour before he pulls me up by my armpits and spins me around, he lifts my dressing gown up and squeezes my ass before bending me over the couch as he teases my underwear down making my cock twitch due to the prolonged friction, he then rubs the head of his penis along the outside of my un-used hole while i beg for his cock i then moan loudly as he slides it all in at once. he grabs the hair on the back of my head and holds my cock in the other one of his massive veiny hands his expert technique instantly turns me into a worthless hole only purpose is to please him, after a few hours of fucking and cumming we fall asleep on the couch naked together.

after a few more days of constant fucking, sucking and cumming my real dad comes home and we have to start being discrete, doing it in one of our cars or while hes away or even just quietly under the kitchen table, the closer he is, the hotter we find it.

after months of this i notice a small ball in the centre of my stomach while getting dressed i think nothing of it and carry on and on until its too obvious to hide under baggy clothes, i tell people im just bulking cause i want to build mass, i wanted to believe it but me and my step dad knew it was more.

his cum must be super-human i quickly became the biggest pregnant person id ever seen i stuck to my story but less and less people believed it that was when my dad confronted me “hey buddy!” he said putting his head around my door into my room as i lay weighted down by my planet-belly, “ive noticed that your clearly pregnant” i try to sit up and defend myself but it takes me far to long to even start bending my mid-section “you dont need to deny it i know what it looks like-you where one hell of a baby! anyway i was just wondering who the daddy was and if hes in the picture” i knew he was asking because my other dad was never in the picture “well erm he kind of is” i finally admit rubbing my tight taught skin “its m-my step dad” i say defeated. “no fucking way!” my dad says more surprised than angry he finally steps fully in my room without a shirt on revealing his own pretty-large pregnant belly…

#cw mpreg #mpreg #mpreg belly #mpreg kink #mpregnancy #pregnant man #male pregnancy #mpreg roleplay #mpreg story #male bloating #mpreg caption #tw mpreg #mpregoverdue

[dreamerdeity]

ONE OF YOUR GIRLS

Warnings/ Notes Suguru Geto x afab reader. 18+ CONTENT MINORS DNI. Lots of choking, fingering, undertones of degradation, unestablished relationship, porn without plot, mentions of guilt tripping, power imbalance. Let me know if I missed anything!! Please don't report my work. If you would rather not read, then just don't!! Reblogs appreciated! Synopsis You have a massive thing for Suguru's arms, so he chokes you with them...upon your request.

NSFW under the cut

Suguru is mean, sure, but don't you get the wrong idea, because he swears up and down it's your fault every single time. How glassy tears cascade down your face so damn cutely, pretty neck bruises up in his grip so gorgeously, and if the only way he can get to see you that fucked out and vulnerable before his eyes is to treat you like a bitch, he'd do it over and over again with not an ounce of remorse.

He sits you on his lap, back pressed against his taut chest while you pointlessly babble and squirm from dizzying overstimulation, your thighs involuntarily caging his wrist between them as they close in on themselves. But d'you forget already? Suguru's not much of a gracious man, there's no other way to put it really, and you'd be dumb to ever think otherwise, because just as your bottom lip juts out in desperation, a broken "S'too much, Sugu" leaving your parted mouth, your tears threatening to spill past your lashes, he grins sleazily, and you've seen that grin a handful; The embodiment of the power trip he basks in whenever you're around. Got you wrapped around his finger and he knows. Got you under control. "Stay still, pretty." He whispers against your crimson-blooming neck and it almost sounds tender, but the validity of such wishful thought is quickly thrown aside when he forcefully spreads your legs open once more, a thumb playing with your clit, deftly curled fingers scissoring and pistoning into your soaking cunt.

Suguru's eyes never leave your pretty reflection adorning the full length mirror across the two of you, raking you up and down with not a slither of shame, because surely you were used to it by now, weren't you? All his to devour whenever he pleased, the one girl he'd always find his way back to when his patience threatened to wane, whose apartment he'd drag his feet into, head hanging low in tribulation waiting for you to save him in the one way you knew best, to melt away all that weighed heavily on his heart like the good girl you always were. And just as you trail your gaze upward, you find yourself shrinking back in embarrassment from his brazen stare, burying your face in your shoulder when his piercing eyes meet your own through the looking glass, but nothing's ever easy when Suguru is around, is it? Ever so perceptive, he doesn't hesitate to grab your cheeks between his thumb and index, harshly yanking your face back up to meet his gaze with a chastising "tsk". "I like seeing you like this y'know." He breathes out, gruff voice sending jolts up your spine as he languidly strokes your jaw with the pad of his thumb. "D'you like it too, hm? Look at your face, baby. Up there." He animatedly points toward the mirror as though speaking to a child, infantilizing you as he so often does. "That's it, dont be shy." The soft, honeyed timbre of his voice confuses you, the entirety of his persona rendering him a walking oxymoron; So charming yet so crude; So tender yet so rough; So playful yet so stern. Despite all of it, you never question it when he babies you right after degrading the living shit out of you, a welcome surprise of sorts that leaves you giddy for the rest of the night.

Though the babying does not last long, the man under you swiftly moving his hand away from your face and roughly hooking an arm around your neck with a click of his tongue, your chin snuggly tucked under the bend of his arm, bicep pressing against your cheek. A favorable position you supposed, maybe more so for him than you, because when he feels the hot pulse of your neck against him, something momentarily flashes in his eyes and he grins wide. "Mm, can't handle it all, Sugu pleaseee." You turn and whine into the crook of his neck, straining to speak as much as you were to move your head. His thick arm had an impossibly tight hold around your throat rendering you as good as paralyzed. Though you'd lately devised a clever plot of sorts; Guilt tripping him with that ever so sweet lilt of your voice, those tears spilling past your fluttery eyes, because at the end of the day, you realized, you had him as wrapped around your finger as he did, even if you knew hell might as well freeze over before he admitted such—in his own words—nonsense. But sometimes your clever plot works, sometimes it doesn't.

Depending on his mood.

The heavens must not be on your side lately, because tonight it did not, and he clicks his tongue at your dramatics, eyebrows furrowed and clearly unamused by your apparent change of heart. "But you asked for it, didn't you?" He lets out a chiding huff and asks, not really expecting an answer, just your sweet surrender. In a sense, he was right; As comical as it may sound, you had watched him unload his groceries earlier that morning and couldn't help but lock your gaze upon his arms. The way his biceps flexed every time he effortlessly tugged a heavy bag out of the trunk, or the visible recoil of those same biceps when he put the bags down, or the pretty dents and veins blooming along his well-built forearms when the sunlight hit just right. Not even the most strong-willed woman on earth would have been able to get her mind out of the gutter under such extreme circumstances, or so you liked to think. In short, you had shamelessly asked him to choke you with his arms.

And who was he to deny his pretty girl's request? He was never stingy with the pleasure he gave you, especially when it's one you proactively asked for, with those wet lashes fluttering up at him as you request a million ways of him to ruin you. As if on cue, just as you attempt to let out a half-muttered response to his earlier question, his arm presses harder against your throat and shuts you up for good—before you could even speak, as if to taunt you, goad you into a state of frustration simply because he liked to push your buttons like that. He continues to work your cunt as his free arm rhythmically squeezes and releases around your throat, your vision going blurry, eyes slipping closed as you helplessly claw at his bicep to let you breathe. Though your ministrations felt like nothing but a feather light touch to the strong man handling your form.

"Ahh! Cute" Suguru positively coos, giggling at your struggle, seemingly finding it amusing, or perhaps relishing in your messed up state like the sadistic bastard he was. "Sugu, hhmmgh" you let out a shrill whimper, if you could call it that, torn between the pain engulfing your neck and the pleasure prodding at your cunt. Suguru examines you closely through the mirror and his giggles die in his throat as fast as they came when he zeros in on your weary expression, much to your confusion. His face falls into a frown. Wasn't he all giddy and jovial just now? He nudges your cheek before trailing his eyes up toward your reflection once more.

"Why're you so quiet all of a sudden, baby? Am I not doing a good job?" He asks with feigned hurt etched into his sharp features, voice laced with faux offense. You catch his pout in the mirror and scramble to tell him that wasn't it at all. Was he serious? You're practically choking in his grasp and he has the nerve to spew such absurdities. You were in fact enjoying this more than you'd like to admit but you couldn't speak. and he knew this. Of course he did, because actions sure spoke louder than words; He could see your eyes flutter shut in pleasure, your warm arousal trickle down his wrist every time he squeezed harder, harder around your neck.

You opt for aggressively shaking your head to the best of your ability within the tight confines of his hold. "Yes or no?" He banters, clearly teasing, and you can hear the smirk in his voice, struggling to hold back his amusement at your newfound muteness. "Y-you're doing well." You choke out finally. "Ah! See? That was easy." He doesn't give you time to retort, picking up the pace of his fingers, scissoring them rhythmically as his thumb abuses rough circles onto your wet clit. "Now give me what I want." He groans against your face, breath fanning against your ear, tongue running sloppy trails down your jaw, and all the simultaneous sensations he was giving you were mind-numbingly overwhelming. With just another jerk of his fingers within you, clit rubbing against his palm, you find yourself falling boneless in his arms, unraveling right before his sharp eyes as they so intently watch your face contort in pleasure through the mirror.

"Mmph fuck!" You gasp in your stupor, gripping the wrist of his hand that was still diligently fucking you through your high, spasming and thrashing in his embrace, your free hand winding around his bicep that engulfed your neck, squeezing and clawing like a bitch in heat.

"That's it, I got you babe." Suguru soothes you softly, tone so different, so tender, bringing his long fingers up to your mouth and tapping them on your lips once you regain your composure, a sheen of sweat coating your forehead and chest still heaving sporadically. You know what he wants you to do, and you obediently wrap your lips around them, tasting yourself on him. "Mhm, just like that" He hums with a lazy smile, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, half-grin gracing your lips in a sudden fit of post-sex giddiness, but just as you begin to shuffle out of his lap, you halt in your steps, him grabbing you back down by the hips, lips brushing against your earlobe. "Oh 'm not done with you just yet."

Right. When is he ever?

#getou suguru x reader #jjk x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk smut #I am infatuated with this man he has been consuming my every thought for the past three years help me

[holybibly]

Hi! This is my first time ever sending an ask to one of the many writers I follow here on tumblr, and honestly you're my favorite because you write so so well. Like oh my god, everything you write kills me in the best way possible. I really really enjoy reading anything you put out, and I can't wait to read more from you! I hope that you're doing well and that life is treating you well too! <3

Also I'd like to say I enjoy being your bunny, and honestly your wolf Matz is my favorite out of everything I've read on your blog so far.

Honestly just the idea of bunny reader getting fucked by them makes my brain melt. But also them getting a pretty collar for their bunny and using that to pull her closer or attaching a leash to it so that either of them could tug her whichever way they wanted, like ugh yes please.

Hi, my cute little bunny, what an honour it is for me to be the first writer to respond to your request.

I guess we're thinking the same thing, because I can definitely see Seonghwa putting a collar on you and puts a leash on you. God, he could make bunny crawl on all fours and wave that cute cotton tail from side to side like a snack to eager, hungry puppies.

I can also see him pulling on the leash as you ride him to give you a dirty kiss and stick his long tongue down your throat.

Seonghwa is a bit sadistic and vicious with puppies; he knows very well that wolf pups literally cum untouched and swell up their knots every time they see your tight pink pussy, and when those glossy, wet folds are stretched by a thick dick, it brings them to despair. So sometimes there are nights when Seonghwa wants to play, more with them than with you, and it's always so fucking dirty, wet, and slutty that you need to bathe in holy water afterwards.

"Aren't you the sweetest bunny in the world?" Seonghwa's velvety voice, full of evil, seductive darkness, purred from behind your shoulder. Wrapped in furs and luxury, like the most precious item in Seonghwa's vast collection of jewelry, you were in his, now your, bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of his king-size bed while you were sitting on his lap. Your pink, dripping pussy stretched out beautifully around his massive cock, and with every lazy squirm, his swollen, thick knot rubbed against your clit in the most delicious way. "Look at the way this tiny little pussy is sitting on my dick, like on a real throne. Tell your mommy, princess, do you love your throne?"

"Yes, мommy, I love my throne so much. It makes me sweet and full; I can feel you in my belly." Your small hand pressed weakly against the obvious bulge in the middle of your stomach. Seonghwa's dick really made you feel so full.

The sound of growling, moaning, and gasping filled the room at your words. It only got louder as your viscous mucus poured out of your hole, running down Seonghwa's cock, his heavy cum-filled balls, and dripping onto the floor, pooling on the black marble.

"What naughty puppies you are, behaving like bitches in the heat—impatient and moaning. Didn't I teach you to behave well when we are playing with the bunny?" Seonghwa's words were so humiliatingly condescending that even you became irritated and hot, even though they weren't directed at you but at the restless puppies that were kneeling in front of you.

They sat on their knees in a semi-circle in front of the bed, a little too close for your comfort, arranged in the order Seonghwa wanted them to be—naked and with hard, reddened cocks, the heads of their dicks proudly dripping pre-cum onto the floor. Around each of their necks was a thick collar connected to a chain, which Hongjoong held in his hand as he reclined lazily in a large leather chair by the fireplace with a glass of whisky in his hand. It was a kind of punishment for them. They behaved horribly and even dared to bite their little pet - Wooyoung's angry, swollen teeth marks are still visible on your thigh. Sometimes they forgot that you belonged to Seonghwa and were desperate to mate with you without him knowing or controlling them.

"They are Hwa's real bitches; they covered our floor with their semen; maybe they should clean it with their tongues? And no more games with my angel; you're going to fuck each other if you can't behave properly. No more of that sweet pussy". There is nothing but pure evil pleasure in Hongjoong's voice. God, this is going to make you leak even more. You begin to wriggle restlessly, your silken walls fluttering around the thick, hot girth of the alpha's cock.

"I-I didn't want to bite her, Alpha; she just smells so sweet, so delicious, and so fertile. I just wanted to fill her with my sperm." Wooyoung moans loudly, arching his back a little and sticking out his chubby butt, as if the very thought of it is getting his whole body ready for some hot and animal sex. His beautiful, bushy tail swishes behind him, and his crystal blue eyes darken with lust from underneath his messy, two-toned bangs. Wooyoung may be one of the most seductive wolves you've ever seen, but you belonged to Seonghwa, and Seonghwa was a god himself.

"Oh, really? Just fill the bunny with sperm, right, honey?" Seonghwa's plump lips pressed against the nape of your neck, just above the luxurious diamond collar that he had placed on you earlier. It was not enough for him to have the dark maroon bite stuck in your neck forever; he had to show it off in some way to all to whom you belonged. "Then I'll do it the right way, and maybe next time you'll have your teeth under control. In the meantime, all of you just sit there and watch me breed my princess, and don't you dare cum, needy sluts, or you won't be getting that pretty bunny cunt for a very long time."

"No, no, no, we'll be good." Mingi whined and scratched at the marble on the floor with his claws. His black, fluffy ears were flattened against his head in a pitiful way, and his beautiful, dark eyes were watering.

"Please, Alpha, we'll be good." Another sweet voice whimpered, and you glanced down through your lashes at the shiny, seductively muscular body of San.

Who the hell made a wolf look so good?

"I will think." And with those words, Seonghwa's hands grabbed your hips and literally threw you up and down on his dick. The room was filled with moans, growls, and piercing squeals from you and the wolf pups, interspersed with Hongjoong's enthusiastic, dark laughter and Seonghwa's velvety, deep moans.

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez x reader #choi san smut #ateez imagines #san x reader #san smut #wooyoung smut #mingi smut #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader

[jadevine]

Medieval Warhorses, Repost + additions!

Since people loved my "Preindustrial travel times" post so much, I decided to repost my "Realistic warhorses" info separately from the original link, where it was a response to "how to get the feel of realistic combat."

--

The original link is here.

The "Warhorse" post on my blog, plus a recent addition, is here.

And here's the text for people who want to go down my "grown up horse-girl" rabbit hole right away!

Medieval Warhorses:

First of all: DESTRIERS WERE NOT DRAFT HORSES. Horse/military historians are begging people to stop putting their fantasy knights on Shires, Belgians, and other massive, chunky farm-horses! The best known instance of “a knight needs to get lifted onto their 18-hand draft horse” is a SATIRE (A Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, if I remember right), but somehow laymen decided to take it seriously.

Hell, I think the film’s historians knew that this was extremely inaccurate and begged the director not to do it.

--

For the purposes of this post, I will not get into the different TYPES OF WARHORSES. That is a hyper-fixation for another day, lol.

—

First problem with “Draft horses as warhorses:”

The bulk of modern-day “breeds” are far too recent for a medieval or medieval-fantasy story. Modern horse “breeds” began around the 1700s-1800s, so that’s in the EXTREMELY late-medieval/early-modern period. Before that, most medieval horses were referred to by “TYPE/PURPOSE” and maybe a “Country/Region.” “Spanish/Iberian horses” (the ancestors of modern-day Andalusians, Carthusians, and Lusitanos) were overwhelmingly popular for combat, and other baroque horses were also esteemed.

Destriers are physically average-height at 15 hands high (about 5 feet tall at the shoulder/withers), but the important part is that they are STACKED at 1200-1300lbs when most 15-hand horses are only 900-1000lbs, so that’s a quarter to a third more weight in muscle.

And remember, muscle will not make a given horse look “chubby!” Good ways to get across a warhorse’s muscles in writing is 1) how ROCK SOLID they are when you touch them, 2) their chiseled shoulders, necks, and butts, and 2) when they get into motion, especially for a fight, their muscles will flex and get REALLY defined. The three regions I mentioned are usually the most visible if they’ve got horse tack or a rider on them.

Think of the difference between “regular horse” and “destrier” as “regular Tom Hardy, who looks fit but normal,” versus “Tom Hardy playing Bane, where he put on thirty pounds and his torso and arms look like a fucking tree-trunk.”

Warhorses had nerves of steel, and the best-trained warhorses used could sprint and turn on a dime–they’ve been called “the sports cars of the medieval world.” This is a far cry from huge, sweet, and lumbering draft horses.

Besides Spanish horses, modern-day candidates for destriers would be European cobs (heavier all-purpose horses, large Welsh cobs are the best-known modern breed), and Foundation Quarter Horses (working/stock horses that can herd cattle and race and actually USE their muscles, not the bloated halter-horses who are mostly bred to look “good” to judges).

—

But if the destrier was supposed to be the horse equivalent of “Tom Hardy as Bane” and not “The Mountain from Game of Thrones,” then how could they carry a knight’s armor as well as their own?

First of all, human combat armor is different from JOUSTING armor and it is easily half the weight for better mobility. Warhorses from proper medieval times aren’t shown wearing much horse-armor, even in jousting. The stuff you see in museums is also frequently the custom-made armor for wealthy nobles, who either 1) wore it once or twice a year for public celebrations, which is also why the armor’s in pristine condition instead of dented and bloody like combat armor would be, or 2) wore it because they were rich enough to not want themselves OR their expensive horses to die too soon in combat.

Assuming that all destriers needed to carry 150lbs for an adult armored man, PLUS another 150lbs of the horse’s riding tack and armor, is like people from the years 2500-3000 assuming that everyone with a “car” must have a Lamborghini or a Ferrari that takes up a lot of maintenance (if you want to keep it looking nice, at least) and can go 200 miles per hour.

So the vast majority of realistic warhorses/destriers didn’t get much if any armor, because 1) horse-armor is for princes and dukes, not Count Whoever’s third son or his nephew that he tossed out on adulthood with barely any money, and 2) horse-armor is going to weigh down your FAST and NIMBLE warhorse. (Remember: Knights wanted sports cars, not tanks!) Take a look at the horses and knights of the website called “Destrier!” Most horses there aren’t notably tall, and they mostly wear head-armor and fancy but not heavy horse-tack like capes, instead of full barding.

Another reason average/short warhorses were preferred is for medieval safety issues: You wanted to mount your horse from the ground without help. The famous knight Jean Le Maingre was so dedicated to fighting that he could VAULT onto his horse in armor, without touching the stirrups. His instructions are, essentially, “put on your armor, find your horse, put your hands on the horse’s back/saddle, and FUCKING JUMP.”

Unless you’re seven feet tall or a gymnast, you’re not jumping onto an 18-hand draft horse.

So all those Red Dead Redemption animations where you get to alley-oop your way onto your loyal steed? POSSIBLE, IF YOU ARE CRAZY/ANGRY ENOUGH.

Quick note: In ancient Ireland, they refer to a “steed-leap” that nobles, warriors, and other “people rich enough to own RIDING horses” were trained to use–with the important distinction that Gaelic nobles often took pride in either using saddles without stirrups, or NOT USING SADDLES TO PUT ANY STIRRUPS ON. So the bulk of Gaelic Irish nobles could theoretically go Red Dead Redemption on your ass.

—

And the third reason most combat-ready warhorses didn’t get armor is because infantry (the vast majority of most medieval armies) just had a low chance of hitting them in the first place.

First of all, most horses are already faster than people. Destriers were EXCEPTIONALLY fast as the cream of the crop. For the horse to need armor, someone needs a good chance of hitting the horse.

Second, most horses are hard to kill physically because horses don’t tend to like getting stabbed or shot at, so they will likely try to kill YOU, which means that a knight and his horse are TWO fighters who are both very angry and very protective of each other. Most people love their horses, and many combatants share intense bonds! IMAGINE IF YOUR HORSE IS ALSO YOUR SQUAD-MATE!

And last of all, most horses are hard to kill mentally because when you want to use cavalry, you ALSO want the other side’s infantry to get consumed by panic and bolt for their lives, away from their companions and AWAY FROM THE CHARGING HORSES. (Which routinely leads to a slaughter, often called a “rout” in period literature, or a “curb-stomp battle” on TV Tropes.) While most knights could dish out one-on-one duels against EACH OTHER, a knight against a foot-soldier is going to have a huge and explicitly unfair advantage if the soldier is not specifically trained and equipped to take them on.

See, when you get a herd of knights on their steeds, the noise and the wave of horseflesh charging at you is going to make your reptile-brain instincts scream “NOPE NOPE NOPE, WE GOTTA GO!!!”

That instinct is so strong that infantry ACTORS in movies–who know that this is not a real war, and the riders don’t actually want to kill them–still routinely break formation and run.

It was possible to stop cavalry with infantry and end up slaughtering them instead of getting routed–it was just extremely notable.

Also, unless you’re specifically going for blood: You don’t WANT to slaughter a whole formation of knights! That means you’ve just pissed away a WHOLE lot of money that the knights represent!

You killed the horses that you could have used for your own side, and possibly bred for more high-end horses! You ruined the armor that you could have used for your own side, or at least melted down for high-quality, already-mined metal! You killed the knights that you could have sweetened up and used for your own side–or more likely, told their families to pay you if they wanted them home intact.

Barely anyone remembers that knights were as good for HOSTAGES as they were for actually fighting. (Except for Game of Thrones, and it’s still only plot-relevant for Jaime Lannister and Theon Greyjoy, and they explicitly did NOT get the protection a noble hostage should have.) It’s noted that Agincourt was a GREAT ending for England because capturing all those French nobles earned them TWENTY YEARS’ WORTH of regular income in ransoms. If they hadn’t won and gotten all that sweet, sweet French money, they would have been bankrupted and depopulated instead.

—

Two more strikes I’d feel are appropriate for “not wanting draft-type horses in combat:”

-Logistics 1: Too much food, too much hassle. Horses are already notorious for eating a lot, and a DRAFT horse that’s 2000lbs instead of 1200lbs will eat twice as much. No army wants to use their fodder for only half the number of horses they’d expect.

-Logistics 2: Too much hair, too much hassle. Shires and other British horses often have feathering on their legs, and anyone with long hair knows that loose hair/fur is a fucking PAIN. You can braid a horse’s mane and tail, but if you’re one of the many average/poor knights who DON’T have servants to take care of your horse for you, do you want to spend extra time cleaning and combing out your horse’s LEGS instead of necessary things? Like feeding them, grooming them, and checking for wounds? Nope, you’ll probably shave the feathering off or just pick a horse that doesn’t have it.

-Extra note on Friesian horses, who are RIDICULOUSLY common in “medieval” movies: Friesian horses are technically baroque horses in body form (Strong-boned! Big necks and butts!), but they’re also over-used in general, so most horse folks are sick of seeing them in movies. And if you don’t have the right kind of MODERN Friesian, you’ll probably be a laughingstock in addition to an eye-roll.

Some strains of modern Friesians are from carriage-horse lines, often referred to as “big movers.” This means “fun to LOOK AT, but terrible to RIDE.” Because, you know, those strains of Friesians weren’t meant for riding, but for PULLING CARRIAGES. Their movements are big, dramatic, and flashy… and their trot is notorious for bouncing people out of the saddle with every step. Not something you want for a knight who fills his opponents with terror.

A good riding horse’s movements are usually smooth and low to the ground, often described as “floating” and “effortless.”

—

A horse-note that I can’t figure out where to put: Many Western cultures love the idea of fiery stallions (intact male horses) for their noble knights and kings to ride into battle on, but realistically, stallions are only half of a given horse population. Many Western stallions are also gelded if they’re not the cream of the crop (which is probably at least the bottom half of the male horse population). So mares can be used by at least half of a realistic formation who just wants a warhorse, and doesn’t care about aesthetics or masculinity.

Also, mares can be ruthless and stallions can be nervous wrecks! Horses are living creatures, with personalities and feelings!

Horses also aren’t very sexually dimorphic, so a 1200lb war mare is DEFINITELY a match for a 1300lb war stallion. And remember how Loras Tyrell used a mare in heat to distract The Mountain’s stallion? That happens with a lot of stallions… almost like they’re living creatures, with instincts that they can’t always control! So if you know when your girl is ready to go every month, you can play dirty in a joust, too!

Just remember that you’re taking an equal risk, since your mare will possibly try to let a stallion mount her instead of fighting. You will either need to bail when she starts making googly-eyes, or you need to know you have ABSOLUTE loyalty from her, and she will listen to YOU instead of “the hot dude I just met five minutes ago!” HORSES ARE LIVING CREATURES, WITH INSTINCTS THAT THEY CAN’T ALWAYS CONTROL.

Then geldings will be used by at least another quarter of “the knights who cannot afford a horse good enough to keep his testicles,” so that leaves “a quarter or less” of knights who can realistically be mounted on stallions.

WORSE NEWS: If you geld a stallion too late (usually once they’re MOSTLY physically mature at 4-5 years old), that risk may never go away–so you’ve got a gelding who’s not breeding quality, but he’s still chasing mares in heat and fighting other stallions in turf battles, without understanding that he can no longer make babies!

On the other hand, some cultures don’t geld stallions because they view it as unnecessary or outright unnatural… but they also don’t want half the horse population distracted by pretty mares, or fighting with other stallions who walk by the pasture, so those cultures breed them to be sweet and easily managed (outside of battle, at least).

In short: ALL HORSES HAVE POTENTIAL TO BE WARHORSES, WHETHER THEY HAVE BALLS OR NOT.

—

Update, Feb 2 – Another day to expand on that “Different types of warhorses” mention!

Much like the common misconception of “all knights must be at least 6 feet tall and have 200 pounds of muscle” varied in real life due to genetics, cultural values, and logistics problems, the assumption that “all knights MUST have top-quality destriers that cost seven times the price of a normal horse” was not the case for the vast majority of “knights.”

Knights would have either “the best horse they could AFFORD” or “the best horse FOR THEIR SPECIALTY.”

A poor knight, or one of the early Middle Ages, would have “one horse that they’re with all the time;” that horse may not be pretty or come from fancy breeding lines, but they would get the job done and most definitely be taken care of. A wealthy knight of the later Middle Ages, when everything got more expensive and status more codified and finicky, would have two or three horses–one horse for warfare and one for regular riding, with the really wealthy knights having a third packhorse to carry all their stuff. (Moreover, they would have at least one servant to help take care of three horses.)

A muscled sprinter like a destrier is better in tight quarters and for short bursts of speed; to bring in the modern example of a classic/Foundation Quarter Horse, who are ideally “short-legged and low to the ground,” these dudes can literally hit the ground running and reach top speed in a few steps/seconds, so compare that to a sports-car going from zero to sixty miles. The tradeoffs?

1) You need to be able to hang the fuck on… and to avoid getting pitched into a wall/enemy WHEN THEY STOP.

2) That full-throttle gallop will really wear out your horse. A good commander will not bring out their heavy cavalry right away, because you also have to figure out how to get them back from the enemy’s side of the field.

In very simplistic terms, this is one of several problems that the battle of Agincourt had for the French; you had a bunch of hoity-toity noblemen with no proper battle experience who all wanted to do things their own way… and how do medieval noblemen usually want to fight a war? JUST FLOOR IT AND HIT THINGS AS HARD AS YOU CAN.

That went so badly that the recorded death-toll for the French side of Agincourt has been commented as “a roll call for French nobles.”

A destrier would not be suitable for a scout or light-cavalry; they’d need lighter and ground-covering horses to cover rough terrain, and to chase down the enemy for long stretches–akin to a modern-day Thoroughbred. For period pieces they might resemble an Akhal-Teke or “Turkmene” horse. A modern-day Thoroughbred horse can “only” reach forty miles per hour at a gallop, but they can keep that up for a whole mile or longer. So now your knight’s problem is “Hanging on for two or three whole minutes,” and anyone in performing or athletics will explain how long and agonizing a few minutes would feel on a rampaging horse. Have you seen how stacked a racing jockey is? The general consensus I’ve seen from equestrians is that barely anyone in any other horse-discipline is that built.

Meanwhile, an ideal light-cavalry horse would need longer legs for a ground-covering stride, and they may or may not be taller as well; as seen in the Akhal-Teke article, many endurance horses tend to show a lot more ribs and bones than other breeds, due to how lean they are. But think of them less as a dainty riding horse and more like a hunting greyhound/sighthound–all muscle, no fat!

The other type of light-cavalry horse would likely be a pony, used to going for miles on rough terrain, with little if any feed.

EDIT Feb 4, 2024: My post got cut off, so here's the rest of it!

The other type of light-cavalry horse would likely be a pony, used to going for miles on rough terrain, with little if any feed.

A period-accurate scout's horse was known as the Irish hobby, ridden by their eponymous hobelar troops. These little dudes were VERY little and about 12-14 hands high (48-54 inches, or 4 feet tall to bit under five feet tall). They were known to cover 60-70 miles a day in their raids, which my "preindustrial traveling" post notes is the EXTREME upper end of mounted distance travel. Their modern descendant is likely to be the Irish Connemara Pony.

Very wealthy and/or lucky European horsemen could probably manage to buy/steal an Arabian horse, as they remain exceptional endurance horses to this day. However, excessively cold/wet climates will need a lot of upkeep for a desert-bred horse to stay healthy.

While Arabians are known for their adorable "dished faces," this is not actually required! Many well-bred native lines have a regular face (ie, a "straight nose/profile") but they are from well-bred parents and have the capabilities of other Arabians. To the other extreme, you have some modern show/halter lines with REALLY exaggerated heads that hit a lot of people's "Uncanny valley" buttons, and they find it creepy/weird instead of refined. This kind of "seahorse face" would NOT be seen in a period piece.

Notice how the smaller a horse gets, the more ground it can cover? This is partly because size only matters TO AN EXTENT for "how long a horse goes," and partly because of physics! Less weight for a horse to drag around on its own body means more energy for putting miles behind them!

#writing #writing reference #medieval #preindustrial #horse riding #medieval warfare #horses

[kieran-granola]

Identity Porn AOB scenario in which alpha Roy and omega Jason work together but they don't know each other's real ID.

Jason has a massive crush on Arsenal but there's no way he's outing himself as an omega to anyone from the cape community. He'd rather pine. Meanwhile Roy is VERY bisexual and crushing hard on Red Hood... but he doesn't want to jeopardize their relationship with a one night stand, and he's not getting serious with anyone he's not sure he could introduce to his baby girl.

So, they both repress their feelings. They bury them deep deep into the dark recesses of their minds and stick to friendship.

...Then a hot single alpha dad moves into the flat next door to Jason's.

It's nothing serious at first. They're just neighbors. Then they start spending time together. They invite each other over for dinner, they help each other build furniture, they share tips about the neighborhood and go grocery shopping together. Stuff like that.

And the more they hang out together, the more they resonate... and both of them start to fall for each other in their civvies.

They hide it, of course. Jason because he doesn't want to expose an unsuspecting child to the risks that come with being a vigilante's stepkid, and Roy because he's pretty convinced he's totally out of the bombshell omega next door's league.

Then Roy's season comes around. He leaves Lian with Ollie and Dinah and holes up for his rut. He does his best to be a considerate neighbor. He spends a week alone, getting re-acquainted with his hands and humping his bed, smothering his growls into his pillows.

Unfortunately for Jason, despite Roy's efforts, the noise and smell of his rut carry. It wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience for anyone else, but Jason is already attuned to him, and that combination triggers a sympathetic heat.

This means that Roy comes down from his rut after a week — exhausted, missing his kid and just looking forward to denning down and sleeping — only to smell the last days of Jason's heat. Roy hears the desperate cries for pack that Jason just isn't able to suppress anymore after days of heat fever when he walks in front of his door on his way to go pick Lian up. His wires get crossed so bad because fuck, he wants this omega in his den with them, bracketing Lian with him, safe and comfortable instead of in pain and lonely... And so when Jason's heat ends, Roy awkwardly shows up to ask for a movie night with the three of them, just to soothe his need to comfort and protect.

Jason is like... he waited for the end of my heat to knock at my door AND he's offering platonic affection? With a PUP when Jason's paternal instincts are still raw from heat? Be still his beating heart.

Arsenal: "I won't be around for patrol on Friday. Don't miss me too much, yeah?"

Red Hood: "Don't worry, I won't even notice."

Arsenal: "Oh, I see. Let me get my Bat-translator... Yeah, I love you too, buddy."

Red Hood: "Fuck off. I meant that literally. I won't be patrolling either."

Arsenal: "Ooooh. Hot date?"

Red Hood: "Hotter than your dumb ass, that's for sure."

Anyway.

Lian falls asleep between them during the movie, and they stay cuddled up together for a while after, just enjoying the feeling of safety. Eventually, Roy puts her in bed, before offering Jason a drink.

Jason is more relaxed than he's ever been, and agrees. Roy gets them both a beer, and goes to sit at a respectable distance, but Jason holds him back by the wrist because, "C'mon, alpha, hold me? Those arms have gotta be good for something."

Roy blue screens for a second thinking of all the things he could do to the cheeky O on his couch before sitting down like, "If you're gonna objectify my arms, does that mean i have permission to talk about your thighs?"

"Only if you're offering to let me wrap them around your neck."

Roy bursts out laughing. "I don't know if you're threatening me with violence or if you're asking for head."

"Hmm..." Jason settles into Roy's arms. "I haven't decided yet. Ask me again when I'm done with that beer."

Despite Jason's brazenness, they don't fuck that night. Even after a few days of rest, they're both exhausted from their seasons and not actually up for anything. Instead, they fall asleep intertwined on the couch.

The next morning, Roy wakes up to Lian poking his cheek. He's surprised and disappointed when he realizes Jason isn't in his arms anymore, but he's also a bit relieved that Lian didn't catch them in an awkward position... And then he smells coffee and breakfast, and all of the negative feelings are replaced by affection and lust when he spots Jason cooking.

Fast forward to a week later. Roy begged the fam to babysit, and invited Jason out to dinner "to repay him for breakfast". They go to a restaurant and spend the whole meal flirting, then they both head home together. That's when the two of them fall into bed.

Sex with Jason is a lot wilder than Roy expected, and holy shit Jason's muscles definitely aren't for show... But hey! He's not complaining. Jason's pussy feels even sweeter after a bit of wrestling, and Roy is perfectly happy to get pinned down and ridden within an inch of his life if that's what his omega is looking for.

That is... Until he notices a VERY familiar scar that he remembers seeing when he was tending to one of Red Hood's wounds in the field.

Every single one of their interactions comes rushing back to him. Their camaraderie in the field, the fun they've had as civilians... It all flashes through his mind as he finally connects the dots and realizes how similar Red Hood and Jason are and why.

"You're Red Hood," Roy blurts out.

Jason frowns and slows his movements. "Seriously? Did you have to wait to be balls deep in my cunt to be delusional?"

"I'm not delusional. You're Red Hood. And I'm Arsenal."

"Is this a kink? Are you into rolepla—"

"Jason. I know that scar. I saw it when I stitched you up after Clayface threw you into that fucking piece of rebar."

Jason tenses, and goes still. Roy bites down a groan at the feeling. "How long have you known?"

"About 30 seconds."

"For real?" Jason growls low in his throat and makes a move to dismount. "And you couldn't have waited 10 minutes to have this conversation?"

Roy whines and holds him back by the hips. "In my defense, my brain isn't getting a lot of blood right now. Please don't stop, you feel amazing."

"...You're a fucking dumbass, Harper."

"Maybe, but I'm your dumbass. Come on, please—"

Jason snaps his teeth in annoyance and presses him down into the pillows by the shoulders. "Fine. But if you come before me, I will shoot you."

"Yessir."

By the time the two of them are sated and lying next to each other, Roy is feeling a little bit more normal about his discovery. It's an unexpected but not unwelcome development. They share a cigarette and talk about it, and they both agree to keep dating. There's nothing left to hide between them after all, and it's not like they can uncross the lines they blasted through in their civvies. Their friendship has already been changed. They just have to hope that it's been changed for the better.

(Years later, sitting next to each other at Lian's middle school graduation, they'll thank the Universe for pushing them together despite their hang-ups. Friends, lovers, husbands... their titles in each other's lives have changed over the years but one thing hasn't: the complicity and love they share are still as bright and warm as they were when they first learned to trust each other.)

#jayroy #jason todd #roy harper #omegaverse #royjay #kieran writes

[meetmymouth]

plssss i need a blurb about thea seeing that bald ass head

from the series theadora

“What are you doing?”

Harry looks absolutely ridiculous.

Sitting on the sofa, a mug in hand as he scrolls on his phone with the other.

Seeing only his torso, and the hands were not a reason to call him out on his bullshit, though. What angered her—perhaps, for no reason—was the fact that he’d been home for about four hours, and in that four hours, Harry has not taken his beanie off.

So, she thinks, yes—he looks absolutely ridiculous with the beanie still on his head.

“What?” He looks up, eyebrows furrowed.

The hat matches the pink lights on their Christmas tree, and she so badly wants him to take it off to see whether the flickering lights would reflect on his head that lacked a significant amount of hair now or not.

“Take that thing off for the love of God, Harry, you’ve been home for hours.”

“I feel… self conscious.”

“You can’t be serious, I’ve caught you taking multiple selfies,” she rubs her eyes, and walks towards him. She sits next to him, one leg tucked under the other, arm finding his body to hug him from the side. “Are you… serious?”

Harry bites his bottom lip. “Okay, maybe not. It’s just hair. I don’t care. I just.”

“What is it?”

“Teddy hasn’t seen it—”

“Well, I wonder why. Your bald head must be so hot under that thing,” she snorts, biting his shoulder over the t-shirt.

Harry gasps, almost spilling his tea. He puts it on the coffee table, hand already finding her hip to pinch the skin. “Stop being mean. I’m not bald.”

“Just take it off, please. She’ll find it cute. Camp.”

“Camp?” He repeats, tone incredulous and hesitant. “Fuck off.”

“Harry.”

He lets out a sigh, and leans his head on her head, her hair tickling the side of his face. He smiles for a moment, the stillness of the room making him feel warm.

“I love you,” she starts, hand creeping under his t-shirt. She stops when it reaches his neck. “But you need to take it off. I mean, what’s your plan, hm?”

“Well.”

“Didn’t think that one through, did you?”

They turn their heads at the same time when they hear Theadora’s small footsteps.

She enters the living room, a pink, glittery tinsel around her neck, mouth supporting a frown.

“The tree in my room is so small,” she walks over to them, and grabs Harry’s hand, putting it on the arm of the sofa. She gets on his lap, but not before giving her mum a bored look. “You told me I could have a tree in my room, too.”

She nods. “I did. And you do. We bought you one.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Harry strokes the side of her face, fingers delicately playing with her curls.

“Too small, I said it one minute ago. Because it is small,” she gives a curt nod. “Tinsel does not cover it all the way.”

“Do you mean the tinsel is big for your tree?” Harry suggests.

Theadora looks up at him, eyes narrowed. “It’s not even a tree. It’s a… tr. It’s so, so small I don’t like it.”

“Teddy we have a massive Christmas tree down here.”

“Why are you wearing a winter hat,” she changes the subject, but before they can give her an answer, her small hands reach for the hat, and it slides off of his head.

They both gasp, Theadora howls.

“What have you done, daddy!” She closes her mouth with her hands.

“I… cut my hair, T,” Harry rubs his eyes, clearly feeling nervous.

It’s silent for a while, before Theadora speaks again.

“With scissors?”

“Ah,” Harry lets out a defeated laugh. “No—”

“Did you do it or mum?”

“A hairdresser.”

She gulps. They both watch her in silence.

“Okay.”

Harry’s gaze finds hers momentarily before turning back to the child. “You like it?”

“I guess but do you like it? Are you sad? Because your hair was kinda curly like mine,” she flinches at her own words before turning to her mum. “I am not cutting my hair.”

They both laugh, and Harry presses a kiss on her small hands.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Teddy,” Harry murmurs, hands stroking her small ones in his. “Do you like it, though— really?”

“I do, I think. We won’t be able to put hair clips now but I guess if you’re happy.”

Harry bites his lips so that he doesn’t cry at the pureness of the interaction.

“I love you, Teddy.”

“I love you, too, daddy. Your head looks nice, I promise you.”

Harry laughs, unaware of the loving gaze directed at them both.

“What about my hair?”

Theadora doesn’t look impressed by the question.

“Can we get a bigger Christmas tree for my room now, please?”

#theadora asks #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #dad!harry #ex husband!harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #theadora

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Violent Delights Have Violent Ends - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

WC: 1.8k

TW: Serial killers, murders, blood, referencing to infidelity, descriptions of dead bodies, bugs

A/N: Enjoy part 2 babes!!!!

Part 1

The worst part about a crime scene was not seeing the dead bodies, it was smelling them as soon as you entered the house. However, seeing them was not exactly great either. 

This would have been much better advice than Derek telling you seeing a dead body for the first time can be a bit freaky. 

You don’t really know why you agreed to go to the crime scene, but God did you fucking regret it now. Your eyes were starting to water and your hands were ever so slightly shaking. It was clear to you that all the profilers around you knew what you felt. Even if you were hard to read, they would have known just by the way you stopped talking. 

Hotch gently put his hand on your arm, causing you to jump slightly and give him a small smile. He led you both to the kitchen to sit down for a moment, giving you a moment away from the whole scene. 

Looking at the pictures was so different than seeing it in person. Someone actually dipped their hand in the neck of someone else and wrote on the wall in their blood. And they were cold and calculated enough to put gloves on first so there was no DNA left behind. Fucking psychopath. 

“Y/n?” 

You looked up from your hands and let out a curt laugh when a tear fell down your cheek. “Shit. Sorry.” Quickly wiping it away, you looked back down at your hands. “Sorry, I just….”

“It’s a lot.” 

“Why–why do you need me here Hotch.”

He nodded and looked back at the living room. “Because we have a feeling the way he’s positioning the bodies might help us figure something else out, and you are our resident expert.” 

“Don’t let Reid hear you say that. He might just have an aneurysm.” You muttered, a small smile on your face. 

It got Hotch to smile in response. “He knows that you know more about this than him. Don’t worry. Can you get back in there or would you like us to take pictures and send them to you?” 

You shook your head and stood up. “I’m fine. Just an initial shock I guess. Thank you, Hotch.” 

The two of you walked back into the living room, and you were still grateful that you decided to forgo lunch, not giving your stomach any ammo in case it decided to evacuate your body. 

The scene was gruesome. The wife’s body was lying on the floor in front of the fireplace arms above her head as if she was lifting something. Her blonde hair had been stained red, almost purposefully with blood, and braided into two long braids that came down the front of her chest. The only indication of any blood on her body, besides the gaping wound on her neck, was that the palms of her hands were coated in now-dried blood. 

“It’s um.” You closed your eyes for a second. “It’s John Singer Sargent.” 

“The famous painter?” Spencer turned to look at you from across the room where he had been talking to Prentiss. 

You nodded. “His, uh. Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth, where she um, lifts the crown onto her head…It’s massive, like seven feet tall, four feet wide, at the Tate Britain in London.” 

“What does this have to do with her.” Derek gestured to the corpse on the floor. Spencer, who noted that you really couldn’t take your eyes off of the body, pulled out his phone and quickly found the painting you were referencing. 

“Oh wow,” Morgan muttered. “He even dressed her in the same shade of green…”

“It’s one of the most famous portrayals of Lady Macbeth out there. Her dress was decorated with….” Your eyes widened. 

“With what.” Hotch walked over to you and looked between you and the body, and then over to Spencer. “What was her dress decorated with.” 

Spencer quickly made his way over to you and kneeled next to the wife. “Oh my god.” 

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Derek crossed his arms, unamused by the lack of information being spread around. 

“Beetles. Ellen Terry’s dress was decorated with the wings of beetles.” You spoke up.  _________________________________________________________

Spencer had volunteered to drive you back to the station so that you could look at the actual bodies of the previous victims to see if you could find more details that they had missed. 

“This one, Spencer, she’s uh…” You bit your lip, looking at the first set of victims. “This was the Romeo and Juliet one right? Because she’s draped on top of him like every production and painting of Romeo and Juliet I’ve ever seen. If we have to go specifics then I would say probably “The Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets” by Leighton. And the um…” You placed that image down and hunted for another one. 

“And this one is the Hamlet one since she’s positioned exactly like Ophelia in Sir John Everett Milais’ painting. The Pre-Raphelite one with all the flowers. Look at the sheet the unsub placed her on, it’s completely floral, and did the autopsy come back saying she had drowned, or was drowned and then resuscitated or something?” 

Spencer nodded. He was honestly in awe of you. The way you reset your head when you left the crime scene. The urgency you had developed. The sheer breadth of knowledge you possessed just continued to make him fall head first for you. Not that he could ever do anything about it since you lived in London half of the time, and he was always traveling around the US with no sort of set schedule. 

“And…uh, where is it.” 

“What are you looking for?” 

“The one with the, uh, um. What the fuck was that guy’s name?” 

Spencer looked at you with a furrowed brow. “Are you talking about Caesar?” 

“YES. God. I always forget his name. Portia. She swallowed hot coals to kill herself right? But in the picture…” You pulled the photo out of the depths of the pile. “There’s a wound on the wife’s leg. Her cause of death was bleeding out, right? With the way she’s draped on the bed, and her husband is in the other room, it’s not the show. I think it’s the baroque piece of Portia by, uh, um…oh shit what was her name….” 

Watching you work literally made Spencer’s heart want to bleed. He would actually propose to you on the spot if it wasn’t an extremely insensitive time to do so, and also you weren’t even dating. It was baffling to him that he had only known you for three days.

“Elisabetta Sirani!” You pulled out your phone and looked up the picture, and lo and behold, it matched the body. 

“I think that it’s an art student, or someone heavily involved in art. Some of these are famous paintings, sure, but others? There’s a history there Spence. I only know these paintings because of my Ph.D. Sirani is not as common an artist as she should be.”

He sputtered at the nickname but quickly recovered. “I’ll call Hotch and let him know.” 

You smiled at him and he smiled right back at you. 

There was too long of a pause. It shouldn’t have happened at all really. But the sheriff knocked on the door, misinterpreting the stare for something more aggressive. “I don’t mean to break up whatever yelling session is about to happen, but the autopsy report came back…those were real wings.”

You looked back over at Spencer. “Tell him to get the team back. You guys need to give the profile.”  _____________________________________________________________

“I just don’t understand where someone even gets that many beetle wings. It’s not like you can order them online and have them shipped to your house.” 

“That tells you how premeditated this was then.” 

“Woman, where have you been all our lives.” 

You laughed and Derek smiled over at you. 

“No, seriously Y/n. I never thought Art history could be so…”

“Violent?” You guessed, smirking slightly and shaking her head. “There’s a painting I think yo should look up Derek. Well a few of them—Saturn Devouring His Son by Goya is a favorite of mine, and then Judith Beheading Holofernes by Virmiglio has a shit ton of blood in it…or if you want some heartbreak, I am personally fond of Caleron’s Broken Vows, or anything portraying the Kiss of Franchesca and Paulo.” 

“I just don’t get how you can store all of this in your head.” Derek pulled up to the college campus and flashed his badge at the campus security, who let him through the gate. 

“Well, I don’t know how to take apart a gun, and then put it back together, let alone fire it. We all have our different skills.” 

This caused Derek to laugh. “Touche.” 

The two of you pulled up to the building with the offices of the Art History faculty and looked around the campus. “This is a massive campus, Derek. I’m pretty sure they have an MA and a Ph.D. in Art History beyond undergrad…”

“Believe it or not, this is not our first murderous college student case.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Great. It’s good to know the youth of America are doing alright.” 

That caused Derek to crack a smile. “Well. Let’s go find this professor and see what we can find out.”  

The trek across campus brought you back to your college days. It was kind of nice to see that kids still hung out on the lawns and with one another, not just staring at their phones and laptops all of the time. 

The both of you made your way up to the stairs of this slightly blocky building. It felt a bit like a museum with the amount of artifacts that they kept on the first and second floors, but as you walked through the fifth floor offices, your face started to fall. 

“Derek what was the name of the professor we were supposed to talk to?” You whispered, slowly moving to a stop. 

He turned and looked at you. “uh…Doctor Kolek, why?” 

You pointed to the door you stopped in front of. 

It was slightly ajar and looked as if the lock had been busted. Morgan quickly, pulled out his gun and shoved you behind him, calling out the woman’s name as you both held your breath. 

When there was no response, Derek slowly pushed the door open. Her office was a wreck, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Papers were scattered, there were frames on the floor, and a dent in the wall as if someone had tried to throw something at someone. You called out the woman’s name again, only to gasp. Derek turned and faced the same way you were looking. 

Doctor Kolek was face down on the floor. There was no blood around her, and the room didn’t smell like death, so that was a good sign, but she was clearly unconscious. Derek quickly rolled her over and checked for her vitals. 

“She’s still breathing. Call a medic.” 

You scrambled to pull out your phone, dialing 911. 

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #Spencer reid x y/n angst #Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader

[ddejavvu]

Han solo's hands that are much bigger than readers. They look so massive when compared to readers smaller frame.

Imagine them on reader's thighs,waist even face as he holds it with one or both hands ! Maybe those hands go somehere else ifykwim 😏

Im in love with him, help.

i was just talking about han holding reader by the back of the neck with indy earlier. some good shit.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

han has disgustingly massive hands. no, really, they're obscenely large. and you know what they say about big hands <333

i think before you're even hooking up, or maybe after you've started fucking but you're not right at the moment, he'll still use them to boss you around. he pushes against your shoulder if you're in his way instead of just slipping past you or saying excuse me. he'll pinch your ass if you walk by him. he'll snatch stuff out of your hands, just take it right away from you purely to piss you off. it happens especially with stuff you're trying to move out of the crap pile that i know his quarters are in the falcon. i know there's weird shit laying all over the place, and god forbid you try to pick some of it up and put it elsewhere so that you have a spot to sit down, 'cause he'll yank it out of your hands and go 'gimme that. keep your hands to yourself.'

i think when you're riding his dick he'll shove them in your mouth. you're bouncing on his cock, desperately trying to fuck yourself hard enough on him to satisfy him, but the thing is you're tired and it would be soooo much easier if he just helped you by putting those massive hands of his on your hips and bouncing you himself. but he doesn't, because he wants to watch you come undone trying to please him :]

he'll watch you abuse your achy, soaking wet, drooling pussy on his cock and he'll put one of his massive hands on your face. he sticks his pointer and middle finger in your mouth, and uses the rest to anchor himself on your cheekbones. he's clutching tight to your face and you're letting him jam his fingers down your throat, feeling their rough pads prod at the back of your throat enough to have you gagging and choking on them. you're a mess, your eyes are red-rimmed and wet with tears, you're desperately trying to swallow his fingers, your tongue is going wild trying to cover every inch of his skin with spit, and your poor puffy pussy is all open and wet and hot all over his cock. he likes it when you're a mess, especially when you make yourself a mess for him.

the sounds of your choking make his dick twitch inside of you. he might even press his fingers down on your tongue to flood your mouth with drool because he's cruel, and he wants to watch your eyes roll back into your head as you try to control the itchy feeling in your throat of needing to gag. he's such a shit-talker, he'll hit you with that gruff, condescending voice of his, 'stupid little thing, ain't'cha? trying to swallow my whole fuckin' hand?'

he's gonna torture you until the obscene mixture of slick and cum and sweat and sex is sliding down not only your legs but his own pelvis, and then he's gonna jam it back inside of you with those huge hands of his. he'll use them to manhandle you onto the mattress, pin your shoulder to the sheets, and drag his long, thick fingers across your skin, scooping the slick up and stuffing it back inside of your leaking hole. you're absolutely soaked in the stuff, both of you, so it'll never work the way he wants it to, but he's going to stuff you with as much as you can take, and then he's gonna stick his fingers back in your face so that you can clean them off for him.

i also just think he'd stick his fingers in your mouth for his own pleasure. you're reading something, or you're focused on a project you're working on, and all of a sudden han's pinching the hollows of your cheeks together so that your mouth opens, and one of his rough fingers is bullying its way into your mouth. He pins your head against his stomach if he's doing it from behind you, and you're just held in this headlock while he sticks a finger down your throat.

'c'mon, suck it off, sweetheart.' he orders you, completely unphased by your disgruntled dismay at being oh-so-rudely interrupted from whatever task you were focusing on before, 'stop squirming, you're so fuckin' dramatic.'

i like the idea of him having his hands all over you all the time. i think he squeezes you by the back of the neck like i mentioned earlier. he's the type of guy to pinch and rub your shoulders all of a sudden in a 'massage' that really feels like your muscles are being ripped apart. he's hands-on and you're gonna have to get used to it.

he hauls you around by the bicep, too. he grabs you like a dude and yanks you wherever he wants. pinches tight enough for it to hurt, maybe just enough for it to bruise if he's feeling like it. he can be gentle with you, of course, but he's rough by nature and i think he'd manhandle you more often than not with those monster fucking hands he's got.

#han solo x reader #han solo imagine #han solo x you #han solo x y/n #han solo smut #han solo fanfiction #han solo fanfic #han solo fic #han solo oneshot #han solo one-shot #han solo one shot #han solo headcanon #han solo headcanons #han solo hc #han solo hcs #han solo fluff #han solo blurb #han solo dialogue #han solo drabble

[toruro]

hi mika:3 i have an idea slash request (or a thot bcs i wanna here ur input wtv ur more comfy with) thats rotted my brain for like months esp since minghao hosted that expensive ass monthly meeting…. but minghao fucking you on the cold glass windows of the penthouse he paid for for a night or a few overlooking the city 👩‍💻💿

(p.s. ive been waiting to share this idea with u if u opened back up ur requests bcs i wouldnt want to lend it to any other author 😭💋)

mile high club ... ?

pairing. minghao x reader tags. smut (18+ / mdni), fluff w/c. a/n. i almost teared up reading this. i am gutted. the fact that u wanted to share this w me and ME ONLY?!>!? i love u so much :[

you should've known. should've known that your sneaky little fiance was up to something when he gave you that sweet, sweet smile and told you to put on your prettiest dress and your prettiest heels this evening. should've known he was planning on treating you to something a little bit bigger than just dinner.

you're still not sure why it came as a surprise to you when minghao took you by the hand and whisked you away from the restaurant you two had just dined in, and took you on a long drive under the cool night sky.

giggles and looks from the corner of your eyes, you noticed that minghao took you down a road which you didn't recognize as 'on the way home.'

"baby, where're we going?" you asked him lazily. the windows were ajar and the evening winds blew through his black hair as minghao focuses on the road. you grin at the sight, reminding yourself to tell him later to cut his hair less often.

smirking, hao smooths a hand over your bare thigh, caressing the skin with his thumb. "you'll see baby, you'll see."

and see, you most definitely did.

it didn't take long for him to pull up in front of one of the fanciest hotels in downtown, shushing all your questions as he excitedly helped you into the glass elevator that overlooked the city, taking you all the way up to the top floor despite your questions.

"hao, what is this about?" you attempted to ask through muffled giggles as he pressed kisses against your lips as an attempt to keep you quiet.

"just look," he muttered, pulling away so he could key in some code on the final floor. what lay behind the door was the massive layout of the hotel penthouse, large windows that showed off the glittering, buzzing lights of the city around you.

as you make your way to one of the wide glass panes, looking down and over the sight. minghao carefully follows behind as you mutter out words of thanks and praise for finding such a beautiful space ... "so pretty hao, i love it ..."

there he is now, digging his face into your neck as he wraps his arms around you from behind. lips and tongue trace over your shoulder blade as you melt into minghao's arms, head lolling to one side to make it easer for him to reach his favorite spots.

his arm snakes down between your legs, digging under the painfully high cut dress you've got on (minghao says 'painfully high cut' not because it was painful for you but because it made him so fucking hard it hurt).

you moan the second his deft fingers brush over the lacy clothe of your panties, playing with your cute 'n' sensitive clit as your legs begin to lose their stability. and fuck, minghao hadn't even had the chance to slip his tie off before you press your ass over his clothed cock, murmuring about how you gotta have him right now ...

"gotta prep you first baby ..." he tries to mutter in your ear, words drying on his tongue when you press behind and into his crotch harder.

"wan' it now," you whimper, one hand falling forward to press against the cool glass of the windows, the other reaching back to latch onto minghao's and play with the hair at the nape of his neck. so hot and sticky, minghao pressing your head forwards so your cheek's against the glass, hot air blowing steam on the windows ...

clanking of belts and popping of buttons as he quickly shoves his pants down, weeping cock springing out and hitting your ass over your dress ... fuck, your dress. you just look so pretty with your back arching upon his touch, short cloth running higher up your thighs until he can see the peek of your lacy white panties.

minghao just can't hold himself back, the way you call for him so prettily and so he's shoving your dress up 'n' over your ass, scooping one finger through the fabric of your panties so he can yank them to the side ... his cock's leaking all over you by now, precum smearing over the plush skin of your ass.

and with heavy breaths rumbling in his throat, high and breathy whines slipping from yours, minghao slips his throbbing cock into the fluttering walls of your cunt ... hugging hao's fat length so nicely his fingers might burn bruises into your hip from holding too tight (lip sucked between his teeth as he chokes back moans).

his thrusts start quick, each one dragging out of your warm folds slowly before ramming back into you in one go. your body lurches against the window, has pressed against the smooth surface as you try to hold on, try not to lose yourself to the way hao's fucking the life out of you over the city ...

feels so good, and you can't help the way you whimper whenever his skin slaps against yours, firm grip pulling you back into his hips for an other jostling thrust ... "feels s'good baby," hao rasps from behind you, leaning forward to press his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in you scent and watching the view from next to you.

the scene's so pretty and you're moaning his name so cutely when he pounds into you from behind, throttling with every snap of his hips ... tits pressed into the glass as he snakes a hand over your stomach and fuck, hao's so grateful. so fucking grateful, and so he's whispering praise into your ear ... "you're so pretty like this ... pretty thing with a pretty view ..." and it's got your brain buzzing like crazy.

your orgasm is creeping up on you, so best believe you hold on tight. can't have you falling asleep already, right? after all, seeing you all pressed up against the steamy glass has the gears in hao's mind spurring, and you'd be a fool to think he wouldn't fuck you on every surface of the room until your cute cunt's fucked raw and spilling with his cum ...

#minghao x reader #minghao smut #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao smut #svt smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #💌 drabbles #answered #✰ 💿 anon