#💌 anon＼(^^)／

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi!! I love your homicipher fics! Have you thought about writing nsfw hcs? Specifically for Mr. Crawling and Silvair? I hope your night / day is going well! :)

⊱ Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair ⊰ || NSFW Alphabet (A-Z) Headcanons

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

Character(s): Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化, Separate) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns, No Sex-Specific Genitalia is Mentioned but it was Written with an AFAB Reader in Mind) Warning(s): 18+ Content, Virgin Asexual Author, Cum Eating, Facials, Minor Objectification, Cuckoldry, Mutual Masturbation, Face-fucking, Sexual Fantasies, Tickling, Praise/Degradation Kink, Breeding Kink/Creampies, BDSM, Overstimulation, Orgasm Control/Denial, Dumbification, Dacryphilia, Hair-pulling, Light Impact Play, Light Breathplay, Implied Cunnilingus/Blowjobs, Cock Warming, Mention/Discussion of Sex Toys… If I missed anything, please let me know! Genre: Headcanons, Smut (Minors Do Not Interact), Fluff Word Count: 7,200 words Request: “Hi!! I love your homicipher fics! Have you thought about writing nsfw hcs? Specifically for Mr. Crawling and Silvair? I hope your night / day is going well! :)” Author’s Note: I’m still very much working on getting better at writing spicier content, and I had no clue how to start writing these kinds of headcanons from scratch, so I went ahead and just filled out the NSFW Alphabet for both Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair as a jumping off point! It’s definitely interesting to think about how both of these characters would be in a sexually intimate setting, especially since – at least in my mind – they’d be quite different from each other in a variety of aspects even if they did have some overlap on a few of the points. I did my best to keep each of their headcanons at a similar word length (which was kind of hard to do with my Mr. Crawling bias, but I think I accomplished it haha). Anyway, I hope you enjoy these headcanons! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

👣: Mr. Crawling is immensely clingy after having sex, holding onto you and pretty much refusing to let go as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck or your hair. While he doesn’t want to get up from the bed or leave after the two of you have been intimate, if you’re hungry or thirsty or if you want to go take a bath, he’s happy to go fetch you something to restore your energy or help you to the bathroom to clean up. He’s quite good at aftercare, even if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing counts as it. Mr. Crawling just likes making you feel good, and he wants to keep you safe and happy! His favorite thing to do is help you bathe; he enjoys the way the warm water feels on his skin while he washes your back for you. 

💉: Mr. Silvair isn’t too affectionate after the two of you are intimate, but he’ll check up on you and ask if you need him to get you anything. If your wrists were rubbed raw from the restraints he had placed on you, he would make sure to carefully wrap gauze around your irritated skin. If you were thirsty or hungry, he would locate something safe for you to consume to get your strength back up. If you feel sticky or gross afterward, he’ll carefully wipe your body with a wet cloth to make sure you are clean and comfortable. He lets you sleep and typically goes about his own business. Sometimes, though, Mr. Silvair finds himself watching over you to make sure you’re breathing steadily, carefully combing his fingers through your hair. 

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

👣: Mr. Crawling doesn’t have a favorite part of your body since he honestly enjoys every aspect of you but, if he had to choose, he loves your hands. He knows that they can hurt people and cause a lot of pain, but he loves the way they feel when you cup his face to softly caress it or whenever you thread your fingers through his hair. For himself, Mr. Crawling loves his hair the most (I know it’s not technically a body part, but I think it makes the most sense for him); he pretty much melts whenever you play with it, and his head is quite sensitive, so he blue screens whenever you pull at his hair or rake your nails across his scalp. I also feel like Mr. Crawling would be proud of his arms since they’re fairly toned considering they’re his primary means of getting around. Because of his impressive strength, despite what his thinner frame may portray, he’s able to hold you up and move you around with relative ease (he 100% can manhandle you, but only will if you’re cool with it). 

💉: Mr. Silvair finds every aspect of your body fascinating, and he could probably explain why each part of you was interesting from a medical perspective or that everything was pleasant to look at in one way or another. If he had to pick a favorite part of your body, though, he would have to say it’s your head (I know, kind of weird, but he does appreciate your intelligence and, well… Ending 06 is my other piece of reasoning haha). Specifically, though, he likes your mouth. He enjoys being able to hold your head in place while your jaw hangs open, all while he just goes to town while you drool and choke around his cock. Don’t worry, though – he’ll find some remedy to lessen the soreness you feel in your throat afterward. For himself, he’s quite proud of his hands. Mr. Silvair is skilled at many things, and being able to make you come undone with his fingers alone makes him feel a sense of power (plus, you called them pretty once, and it made him feel good). 

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

👣: Mr. Crawling gets extremely flustered whenever he sees his cum on any part of your body, from your hair to your face to your stomach. The sight of it alone on your skin makes his brain short-circuit and body flare up – it only makes him want to touch you even more. He likes being able to clean you up, too, leaning forward before he runs his tongue along your body or face, making sure there wasn’t a single drop of his cum left on you (even if now it meant you were covered in saliva…). He doesn’t mind tasting himself, but it most certainly doesn’t compare to your flavor. 

💉: I probably need to ask you to stay with me on this one, but I think Mr. Silvair would probably keep your cum stored away in a sample tube or something along those lines, having a desire to run tests on it to see what he could create. Views your cum as a valuable resource in his research...yay? Maybe he could even use your release to invent some kind of lubricant since that’s not easily accessible in the other world and make having sex much more streamlined… or he just keeps it around to show you later and see your reaction to the fact he keeps your cum stored away in his laboratory to tease you. 

D: Dirty Secret

👣: The thought of taking you in public, in a space where no one but you could see him, makes his mind race and his body feel like it was on fire – this man can act like a feral dog sometimes. I mean, even you sometimes forgot he was there, unable to see his form unless you concentrated hard enough, so imagine if the two of you went out somewhere in public and he (with your consent, of course), just started touching you? Groping your ass, his face between your legs as he runs his hands along your inner thighs… no one can see that it’s him making your face flush and not the excuse of a fever you told the concerned stranger in the hopes they would leave you alone. When you half-heartedly glare at him to try and get him to lay off for a bit, he just laughs at your expression… how rude!

💉: Mr. Silvar wouldn’t be opposed to having a threesome with another resident of the other world. After all, he would be curious to see how differently you acted when another person was there with the two of you, or if your body reacted in an unlikely way if another were to touch you. While I will not write NSFW for Mr. Chopped (the power dynamic there isn’t my favorite thing in the world), he would be the one Mr. Silvair would feel most at ease sharing you with; Mr. Crawling or Mr. Hood would be his second and third choices respectively since he knows how deeply you trust them. He might not even partake in sex either, just sitting off to the side while he lets another use you like a toy. As long as you know your his, though, he doesn’t mind watching you enjoy yourself with another (he has to be there, though). 

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

👣: Mr. Crawling has absolutely zero experience with this kind of stuff, so he would need someone willing to walk him through the whole process, show him what you like, and teach him what and what not to do. What he lacks in experience, though, he makes up for in pure enthusiasm. It’s quite flattering how determined he is when it comes to making you feel good, even if it’s a bit sloppy and unpracticed. His thrusts are extremely unpredictable, never quite finding their rhythm… It’s alright, though; he’ll definitely get better with more time and the more he gets to understand what your body likes. You just have to give him the time to improve, and he’ll be certain to leave you breathless. 

💉: Mr. Silvair also has no experience when it comes to sex, or at least not any while he’s resided in the other world. He is a life-long learner through and through, though, and there’s nothing in the universe he’s not willing to learn about, especially if it has to do with humans and their anatomy. His thrusts are frighteningly accurate, being able to hit your most sensitive inner spots with ease to have you begging him to give you a moment to breathe. He’s an almost terrifyingly fast learner, too, being able to apply whatever new information he’s observed and gathered within moments. He can do it perfectly, too, and he does it in a way that has you questioning whether he was telling the truth when he said this was his first time doing anything like this. 

F: Favorite Position

👣: When it comes to favorite positions, Mr. Crawling loves being able to hold you close to him while also being able to see your face (he has to kiss you during sex – sorry, I don’t make the rules). He enjoys the rocking horse position since it allows him to be able to hold you close while still being able to maintain eye contact with you and easily have access to cover your face in kisses. While he prefers being the one making you feel good, Mr. Crawling would also enjoy the cowgirl position. He’s happy to let you use him to your heart's content while being able to look up and soak in the pleased look that’s plastered across your features while you slam your hips up and down on his cock. 

💉: Mr. Silvair personally enjoys the butterfly position, having you lay on your back atop his operation table all while he can watch and take mental notes on every single facial expression you make and every single twitch of your muscles while he drives you absolutely insane. He would also enjoy missionary, but he would spice it up a little bit by having your hands or wrists tied to something. After all, he doesn’t want you to touch him unless he says you can – just lay there quietly while he completely wrecks you with that annoyingly calm expression on his face. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy when you touch him, though. Mr. Silvair simply prefers being the one in charge and determining when and where you’re able to feel his skin beneath your hands. 

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  

👣: Acts goofy most of the time during sex, even if he doesn’t mean to. He likes being able to make you happy, and he finds your laughter to be music to his ears. Sometimes you two will be having sex, and he’ll suddenly start giggling completely unprovoked, just finding the experience with you so joyful. Being with you in any capacity makes his chest feel light and fluttery as a sense of giddiness flows through his veins. He’ll wrap his arms around you and nuzzle into your neck, causing your body to spasm and tighten around him while his long hair drapes over you and tickles your skin. Overall, Mr. Crawling enjoys being more playful when the two of you are intimate since it adds to the overall experience for him. 

💉: Prefers to be serious while having sex. He treats the whole process of intercourse like one would treat a research project which, honestly, can make you feel a bit annoyed in some instances (Mr. Silvair still doesn’t quite understand why, though). He’s methodical in everything he does, and being light-hearted or purposefully humorous isn’t high on his list of things to do. He has no problem if you want to be silly, however. He finds it cute when you try to see if you can make him chuckle. It endears you to him more, and it makes him want to keep you around for even longer. The only goofy thing he does is gently run his fingers up and down your sides while thrusting into you, finding the way your body wriggles and writhes away from his touch to be adorable. 

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

👣: I think Mr. Crawling would have fairly long hair beneath the metaphorical belt. His pubic hair would be thick, curly, and a very dark shade of black. He doesn’t really keep himself groomed (kind of hard to do in his world, plus it was never a priority for him), but if you would prefer him to keep it trimmed, he’d be happy to! He doesn’t care one way or another. 

💉: Mr. Silvair comes off to me as someone who would enjoy keeping themselves groomed and their appearance well-maintained, and I mean every inch of his body. I think he would have either no pubic hair or pubic hair that was trimmed to be the perfect length. If he did have any hair below the belt, it would be a gray color, one that was a shade darker than his regular hair and wavy in texture. 

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

👣: One of the more human-like members of the cast when it comes to his affections; he’s as romantic as a non-human being can be. Mr. Crawling loves holding you close as he ruts into you like a wild dog, whispering praises against your skin. He even tries his best to learn phrases in your language so he can tell you how much you mean to him without you having to try and decipher it. He’s always so, so soft with you when you two are having sex. He’s honored that you’d let him have you in such a way, and finds your trust in him heartwarming – he trusts you, too, with his entire heart and soul. 

💉: Mr. Silvair canonically doesn’t comprehend the concept of “liking” or loving someone, so that also translates into sex with him. All he knows is that he finds you entertaining to be around and that he’s somewhat endeared to you at this point. He’s not romantic but, in between teasing you and making you cry (whether it be in frustration or overstimulation), he’s checking in on you to make sure that you’re still comfortable. He knows sex can be invasive, and he’s aware of how much regard the act is held in by some people in your world, so he does his best to respect that... Even if he does need to check himself every now and again. 

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

👣 and 💉: Neither of them masturbates much because they simply don’t have a desire or time to do so. Mr. Crawling would rather wait for you to be there so you two can enjoy yourselves together, and Mr. Silvair simply has more important matters to attend to. That’s not to say they never masturbate, though, it’s just typically a rare occurrence. 

👣: Mr. Crawling typically masturbates by rutting up against something, like a pillow, rather than taking himself in his hand. His thoughts before meeting you were just focusing on the physical sensation of his cock sliding against the fabric of his clothing, but now he finds himself thinking of you – the way your voice sounds when you coo sweet words in his ear, the warmth of your body. Imagining your hands gently touching his chest and hips makes him cum right then and there, almost embarrassingly quickly… Yeah, he’s down bad. 

💉: Mr. Silvair treats masturbating as a chore. He’d much rather be doing something else than leaning against the wall of his operation room while his hand goes absolutely ham on his dick. He knows which areas on his body get the most reaction, so he purposefully presses all of his buttons just so he can be done with it quicker. This doesn’t change after meeting and getting to be intimate with you, though, he still sees it as a chore… Just now he imagines cumming on your face or inside you whenever he finally reaches his climax. 

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

👣: 

Mutual Masturbation: He likes spending time with you and doing things together, so why not spend some time watching each other explore yourselves? He likes observing you as you touch yourself, making mental notes of every spot on your body that have you biting your lip and furrowing your brows. While I wouldn’t say he’s into voyeurism since he does like being with you while you touch yourself instead of tucked away in the shadows just watching, he focuses more on the way your hands touch and caress your skin instead of focusing on the way he moves his hands across his body. Doesn’t last very long doing this, though, eventually pouncing on you and touching you himself.

Overstimulation (Giving): Mr. Crawling loves overstimulating you, even if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it half of the time. He just enjoys seeing you become a blabbering mess all because of him; he takes great pride in being able to make you feel good. However, the first time you started crying because he was simply giving you too much, he felt so guilty – the poor man was on the verge of tears thinking he made you feel bad. 

Praise Kink: While praising you is a bit more difficult considering the language barrier and the limited amount of words and phrases he has to choose from, he still loves doing it. Muttering against your skin how you’re doing such a good job, how he loves you so much, how you make him so happy. Mr. Crawling definitely makes sure to reassure you both inside and outside of the bedroom. 

Hair Pulling (Receiving): He loves, loves, loves it whenever you take his hair in your hand and give it a firm tug. Mr. Crawling enjoys it whenever he’s going down on you and you take his hair into your hands and push him even closer, making him become fully immersed in your scent and taste. 

Sensation Play: While Mr. Crawling may not enjoy more painful experiences, he does like general sensation play quite a bit. He likes the feeling of your breath fanning against his skin while you pepper his flesh with gentle kisses and nips. He enjoys tickling you while his hips sensually thrust in and out, feeling the way you squeeze around him as breathless and airy giggles escape past your lips. He loves whispering into your ear while running his tongue along it before taking your lobe between his teeth and lightly tugging.  

💉: 

Breeding Kink/Creampie: Mr. Silvair, after learning more about human reproduction, has a deep-seated curiosity regarding whether or not the two of you would be able to have offspring. That’s kind of what starts this particular kink for him – he wants to know if you both are sexually compatible in that aspect, and he is curious what the resulting child would look and act like if they were born in the other world. If you’re unable to give birth or get pregnant, even if his initial interest in breeding is certainly from a more scientific aspect, he still finds the image of you full of his seed while it drips down the curve of your ass to be quite arousing. 

Bondage/Shibari (Giving): He enjoys tying you up and pinning you down, being able to have full control over you in the bedroom. He’s perfectly content if you agree to light bondage, like having your hands restrained, and would never ask you to do anything more than that. However, if you trust him enough and feel comfortable doing some more intense bondage, he’s not going to complain. Would definitely be interested in the art of shibari, finding the way the rope looks pressing into your skin tantalizing. 

Orgasm Control/Denial (Giving): Another kink that feeds into his desire for control. Mr. Silvair enjoys being the one in charge of your release, and he likes seeing how far he can push you until you finally break and plead for him to let you cum. He loves seeing how stupid and desperate he can make you, sometimes with just his fingers alone. 

Overstimulation (Giving): Much like orgasm control/denial, he likes pushing you to your breaking point. However, unlike the previous bullet, he likes seeing how much stimulation you can take until you’re crying for him to stop. He thinks it’s fascinating, seeing how quickly your desire for his touch can change – one moment you’re begging for him to touch you, and the next you’re weakly pushing his hand away. He does eventually relent, of course, but only after letting you cry for a bit. 

Dacryphilia: There’s something about seeing your tear-streaked face that makes it feel like he’s just been hit with an arrow in his chest. It’s endearing and oh-so cute the way you look while you sob all because he’s making you feel that good. It makes him feel proud, in a way, seeing you in such a pathetic state all because of him. 

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

👣: He enjoys having sex with you on a bed (boring, I know), but he likes the softness of the mattress and the many pillows and blankets that can be used to bring even more comfort by keeping the heat from your bodies trapped. He also likes taking you in small, enclosed spaces, like an empty locker or cabinet (sorry folks with claustrophobia). Much like the reasoning with the bed, he likes how the smaller space forces you both to be immensely close to each other. Plus, these spaces bring him comfort, so why not mix the two things that make him feel safe together? 

💉: Either in his laboratory/operation room or in one of the many different cages or prison cells that he has access to (bonus points if you allow him to chain you up hehe). Mr. Silvair doesn’t need a soft mattress or pillows to enjoy sex with you. He’s fine taking you on his operation table or the cold concrete floor of the small prison cell, even if your back moving up and down across the ground rubs your skin raw. He’ll patch you up after, no worries, but he doesn’t need a lot of bells and whistles to have an enjoyable time. 

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

👣: Sweet words and gentle touches. The other world is one full of violence and death, one where survival trumps all else. While there are entities like him who only resort to violence when either their safety or the safety of someone they’re fond of is in danger, it’s still not a happy or bright place to exist. Mr. Crawling does what he can to enjoy life, laughing in situations that probably aren’t even that funny just to try and make existing more enjoyable. Then you come along and make him feel cared for – loved – and safe, and he’s never been happier. Being able to lay with you, to feel you clench around his cock with your warmth while you pepper kisses across his face and let him know how good he is… Yeah, this is the life. 

💉: Power and control. He enjoys being able to restrict your movement, being able to dictate when and where you’re allowed to cum and, if you disobey him, he’ll punish you with a sadistic smile on his face. However, he would be lying if he said that was all. Mr. Silvair thinks the fact you trust him with your safety – your life, your heart, your existence – gets him going, whether he realizes it or not. Trusting another in the other world showcases how much two people believe in the fact the other would not do anything to purposefully harm them, and you feel that way toward him (and he feels the same toward you). Whenever you call out his “name,” the one you had given him, he finds his hips unconsciously moving even faster at the sound...

N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

👣: Anything involving pain would be a hard no for Mr. Crawling, both giving and receiving. Even though his senses are dull and what would be extremely painful for a human wouldn’t be for him, he still doesn’t particularly enjoy being harmed. When it comes to hurting you in any way, that’s pretty much something he will never concede on. He doesn’t want to do a single thing to hurt you, even if it’s an enjoyable kind of pain. 

💉: Pretty much nothing is off the table for him – Mr. Silvair enjoys experimenting, and that’s no different for him in the bedroom. The only extremely hard no would be coprophilia since he just doesn’t see the appeal nor does he want to test to see if he would like it or not. I also feel like he wouldn’t necessarily want a bratty partner or a partner who is constantly trying to take control back in the bedroom. 

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

👣: Loves giving oral 101%, and he will give it to you anywhere – in public, in private, while you’re sleeping (with your consent, of course). Mr. Crawling adores having his mouth on you, being able to taste every single part of you while his tongue forces its way inside you, feeling your release dripping past his lips or dribbling down his chin… You taste good, too, better than anything he’s ever had before; he might get addicted to it, to be honest. He eats you out/blows you like a man starving, wanting a chance to have a taste and make you cry out his name while you pull harshly on his black locks and encourage him to keep going. He’s very enthusiastic about it, too, putting in so much effort and energy to get you cumming on his face or in his mouth. 

💉: Prefers giving oral over receiving it, but it’s not his favorite thing to do either way. It’s nothing personal, he just prefers using his hands, his cock, or a toy to get you off rather than his mouth. If he does allow you to give him a blowjob, he’ll place a collar around your neck and pull on the chain if you get cheeky – after all, he’s the one in charge here. Mr. Silvair enjoys making you kneel in front of him, watching you with a small smile as you take him into your hands and pump once or twice before taking him into your mouth. If the rare occurrence happens when he gives you head, you better thank the universe. He looks so hot, holding your thighs apart while he slowly runs his tongue along your length/slit and teases you until you’re asking him to touch you more. 

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)  

👣: Enjoys the slower and sensual side of things, but he typically can’t control himself as soon as he’s inside of you, so he ends up being somewhat fast and rough (not all the time, though... his thrusts remain immensely unpredictable no matter what, and he never seems to find a good rhythm to follow). Mr. Crawling enjoys the intimacy of sex, and he finds comfort in the closeness of your bodies while you two are connected at the hips. He loves being able to hold your hands and place kisses across your cheeks. Sometimes, he’s so caught up in the act of showering you with words of praise and sweet displays of affection that he forgets the fact he’s currently inside you and is supposed to be moving. He does see the appeal of rougher sex, though – it makes him feel almost animalistic whenever you two decide to set the pace for the night. 

💉: Mr. Silvair can quickly switch between the two, sometimes almost at a break-neck speed, to the point it feels like you got whiplash from the sudden change of deep and slow thrusts to fast and somehow even deeper ones (he’s very precise when it comes to hitting those sweet spots inside of you – it’s actually kind of terrifying how quickly he can locate them). He pretty much does whatever he thinks will get the most reaction out of your body and acts accordingly – nothing more, nothing less. He tends to prefer rougher and faster sex, enjoying the noises the quick snap of his hips can draw out of your mouth. However, sometimes, he finds himself preferring a slower and softer pace. This way, he’s able to focus on and truly soak in the expression on your face and appreciate the way your body feels under his palms (this sometimes just leads to you cock warming him). 

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  

👣: Mr. Crawling is down for anything at any time. Pretty much, if you ask him to have sex, he’ll happily do it for you. Need him to eat you out or give you a blowjob, he’ll gladly oblige! After all, he is always pretty much kneeling, so he’s not being made to go out of his way to do it (even if he would go out of his way to please you). Want something more than just his tongue? That’s perfectly fine, too! There’s a private room over there he’ll gladly take you in, or maybe you’d want to try doing it in the empty locker? He’ll try not to take too long, but it’s hard since he loves being able to enjoy you to the fullest. So, Mr. Crawling can do quickies for sure, but he likes being able to take his time with you.  

💉: While he’s not opposed to quickies, he prefers being able to have proper sex with you to get the most out of it. After all, he can’t exactly see how long it takes for you to break or how much time it takes for you to start crying and babbling if you only have a few minutes to enjoy one another. However, he does make it a little challenge for himself to see how quickly he can get you to climax. Mr. Silvair will even make educated guesses on how fast you’ll finish just by making note of your current expression, body language, etc. He likes seeing how flustered you get if you think someone is going to enter the room the two of you are in, begging him to go faster which only makes him want to slow down – how mean! 

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)  

👣: Mr. Crawling is down to experiment but, as stated before, he doesn’t want to try anything that causes him or you harm, even if pain is something you enjoy. He just has no desire to hurt you in any way, something which is quite different from other members of the cast who are definitely more sadistic (cough, Mr. Silvair and Mr. Machete, cough). I feel like he would be down to partake in certain aspects of BDSM, specifically B/D (bondage and discipline) and D/S (dominance and submission). He just wants to have a good time and be close to you, both physically and emotionally. 

💉: 100% down to experiment with anything (except the previously mentioned coprophilia). If you wanted to try some breathplay or impact play or even blood play, he’d be down for it. I honestly think he would enjoy breathplay since it adds more to the differential in power that he enjoys so much (there’s also a stirring in his chest when he sees how much you trust him with your life, but shhh…). Mr. Silvair is a man hungry for information and new experiences, so yes, he’s willing to try a variety of different things even if they could potentially be dangerous – he’ll always make sure you return to your original form. 

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

👣 and 💉: Both of them are inhuman, which means that neither of them need any food, water, or rest to survive. Honestly, the two of them have unlimited amounts of stamina, and they can go for as long as you need them to (which could be two rounds or even eight – nothing is holding them back in the stamina department). 

T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

👣 and 💉: Neither of them owns any toys because, well… you can’t access them easily in the other world. If they do end up there, though, they’re probably dirty or damaged beyond repair (please do not use nasty sex toys, people – infections and diseases are no joke). 

👣: Mr. Crawling would be down to use toys on you! After all, why not? It’ll just make the experience more fun, right? You’ll probably have to explain what he’s supposed to do with them, though, since he���s not quite sure what some of them are for. If you want to use toys on him, he’s completely fine with that! Want to wear a strap and give him backshots? Go right ahead! Want to tape vibrators to him until he’s whining and writhing? He’d be happy to oblige! Overall, he’s pretty chill about it and is somewhat enthusiastic about adding toys into your sex life. 

💉: Mr. Silvair enjoys using sex toys on you, some of his favorites being cock rings/chastity belts, strangely-shaped dildos, and vibrators. He loves being able to secure the variety of different vibrators he owns to your body, making sure to cover every erogenous zone he’s noted. He doesn’t typically want toys used on him (but he’d probably try out a variety of different sex toys on himself after a while, though, curious about how each of them felt or what they did), however, and the only one he’d be willing to use consistently would be fleshlights. He’d make you watch him use it, never once allowing you to use them on him. 

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

👣: Mr. Crawling is very fair, and he always makes sure to give you exactly what you want in the bedroom. However, that’s not to say he never teases you, he just doesn’t do it very frequently. Sometimes when he’s going down on you, he’ll pause his minstrations to nip at or kiss the fat of your thighs, keeping your hips held down so you can’t buck up against his mouth. When you start getting antsy, he just giggles at your expression before returning his attention to that oh-so-needy part of you. 

💉: If the word unfair was personified, it would be Mr. Silvair. I’d argue teasing you and making you cry – either because you can’t cum or have cum ten times in a row – are the aspects of sex that he enjoys the most. Edging you is one of his favorite things, though, watching you whine and try to move your hips on your own when he stops moving… bad move, though, because now he’s just going to make you wait even longer for release. 

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

👣: He’s not loud, per se, but he does make quite a variety of different noises whenever the two of you are intimate. He whimpers and whines frequently while you’re having sex – they’re barely audible, high-pitched, and come out sounding as though he’s completely out of breath. Sometimes you wonder if he’s in pain with the noises he makes, but he’s not. He just really enjoys being able to feel you like this as he pants like a dog in heat. 

💉: Completely quiet most of the time. Really, the only noises you’ll probably get out of him are barely audible sighs or the sound of his breathing hitching when he feels you stretch/tighten around him. It’s not that Mr. Silvair doesn’t enjoy having sex with you, he just doesn’t express that feeling verbally. You can tell in the way his hand squeezes the fat of your thigh or the way his hips stutter when he moves in and out that he’s having a good time. 

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

👣: Mr. Crawling loves taking showers or baths with you, though he leans more towards baths since it’s less painful on his joints (I headcanon that Mr. Crawling can stand, but walking for extended periods of time is painful for him – ambulatory wheelchair user Mr. Crawling when?). While yes, he can technically sit in the shower, having water spray his face isn’t exactly pleasant… He doesn’t view bathing with you as sexual, he just finds it relaxing as he helps you wash your back or you help him make sure all the soap is out of his hair. His favorite scent would have to be lavender – it’s very calming for him. 

💉: He keeps a journal tucked away full of terms and gestures from your world. Mr. Silvair has a deep desire to understand humans and everything they have to offer, even if he believes it's from a stance of craving knowledge (really, he wants to be able to express his endearment of you in a manner you can understand). He has a page on kissing and different kinds of kisses, a page on gestures of endearment, another on hugging and cuddling… The fact that humans’ bodies release a hormone whenever they simply spend time to bond with another socially, a hormone that turns the dial on their brain for whatever emotion they’re currently experiencing, is fascinating to him. 

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

👣: Mr. Crawling is tall – and I mean extremely tall whenever he stands up (my man has got to at least be seven feet), so I can assume that he’s probably relatively proportionate under the belt. I feel like he would be big, almost concerningly so, clocking in at around 8 inches in length. Even though his size is impressive, his dick doesn’t have much girth to it and is on the thinner side, but it is thicker towards the base compared to the head (not that you can take all of him – you can certainly give it a try, though). It’s on the veinier side, too, with a very distinct and present one on the underside of his cock. 

💉: Much like pretty much the entire cast, Mr. Silvair is also on the taller half of the height spectrum. However, I feel as though he would have a more modest, yet of course still impressive dick size. I imagine him to be 6 ½ inches in length and relatively thick from the base to the head with very little change in girth. Whenever you see his cock, you’re kind of awestruck for a moment because how can a man have such a nice-looking dick?? It doesn’t make sense! There’s barely any hair, there’s no visible veins or bumps, and it’s long and thick enough to drive you wild… Plus, it’s just really nice to look at, honestly. 

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

👣 and 💉: Okay, so I know others probably will not agree with me here… but I honestly don’t think anyone in the cast has much of a sex drive, let alone a high one. I mean, they’re not human, so their cultural/social norms are different than ours, and I wouldn’t hold them to “typical” human desires on a biological/psychological level either. As I said before, I doubt any of them have been laid because sex just isn’t something the residents in the other world partake in – they’re too busy killing/fighting others, eating humans who find themselves lost in the other world, etc. Is this my asexual and world-building brain working? Probably haha. 

👣: Mr. Crawling really only wants sex whenever you want it, but he’s always enthusiastic and does get aroused whenever you ask if he wants to be intimate. While he does love feeling the warmth around his dick whenever you’re clamping down on him, almost like you were hugging him and not wanting to let him go, he enjoys the emotional connection during the moment more than anything else. I headcanon him (and all of the cast, to some degree) as existing somewhere on the aroace-spectrum. For Mr. Crawling, I see him as being reciproromantic/sexual with an average libido – he gets riled up whenever you’re riled up, though there are times he does get horny without you needing to do or say anything.  

💉: Much like Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair will have sex if you ask him to – he’ll make you beg for it, though, so he’s not as nice as the former. He prefers the control/power he gets from having sex rather than the sole act of intercourse (not to say he doesn’t enjoy the feeling, though). Plus, he finds the activity interesting since he knows it’s something most humans partake in with one another for a variety of reasons, from procreation to recreation. If you ask him to have sex and he isn’t in the mood, he’ll just use his hands or some toys and play around with you until you’re satisfied. I headcanon Mr. Silvair as being quoiromantic and eegosexual with a low libido. 

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

👣: Mr. Crawling doesn’t need to sleep (you know… being non-human and all), but he’ll curl up next to you on the bed and hold your body close to his while pretending to sleep alongside you. It’s kind of adorable, the way his head is nuzzled under your neck while his legs and arms are wrapped around your body, holding you close to him like you were a bodypillow or large stuffed animal. While you sleep, though, he’ll eventually place his head against your chest, listening intently to the sound of your heartbeat and the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath. Moments like this, laying there with you in silence, make his mind wander to scenarios with you he’ll never be able to fully experience. 

💉: Does not rest often, finding it a waste of time that could be spent doing something else. He understands you need your sleep, though, so he lets you do it in peace after you both have had sex. Mr. Silvair always manages to somehow make sure you have enough pillows to keep you comfortable or blankets to keep you from getting cold (you can’t help but wonder where he finds clean linens in such a grimy place…). Occasionally, however, he finds himself sitting next to you on the bed, fingers absentmindedly combing through your hair before he pulls his hand back as though you had burnt him – he doesn’t understand it, and he’s desperate to figure out an answer. 

[miupow]

hear me out...chan trying to fit it in but he's too big and he's whispering all kinds of stuff trying to get you to take it and you're frustrated and needy and you're just so !! done !! because it feels empty and he's so close yet he's not in and finally finally, his thick tip catches and he inches in agonizingly slow simply to hear you whine for it

꒰୨୧◞ ⤷ ❛❛ TOO BIG ! ❜❜ .ᐟ bang chan.

[ ⟡ ] ── minors do not interact ! ⭑ fem!reader , soft dom!chan , est. relationship , monster cock chris lol , size kink , dirty talk , praise kink , daddy kink , missionary/mating press , unprotected sex , bulge kink

a/n ⸝⸝ happy (late) comeback day !! i’m not very proud of this drabble but it’s here and i’m posting it anyway lol <3 save me big dick chris.. save me..

♡ ⸝⸝ ꒰ m.list ꒱ ‧ ꒰ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ꒱

“it’s too big, channie,” you whimper, peering down between your legs— the big fat tip of chan’s cock throbs an angry red as he slides it up between your pussy lips, taps it against your fluttering hole. your ankles dangle in the air over his shoulders, thighs pushed up to your chest by his body pinning you against the mattress, so close you could feel his hot breath, ache for a kiss from the plump, spit-slick lips he bit in arousal. he grips the base of his shaft in one hand, guiding it to push at your rim; you’re frightened by the sheer size of it, thick as a can, veins fat and pulsing… the pressure of it was already overwhelming yet you roll your hips down eagerly, desperate for it to slide in and fill you up.

“shh, stay still, babygirl,” chan coos so sweet, his veiny hand splayed out across your tummy. “and take this fucking cock. daddy knows you can.”

your pussy is making it difficult, so wet chan’s cock misses your hole, slides up your folds to bump against your clit. you shake in pleasure and frustration, reaching your hand down to take ahold of chan’s cock yourself— chan lets you with a warm smile, his thick arms shaking with every slick twist of your hand.

“you need me that bad, baby?” he chuckles, breathless. “thought you said it was too big.”

“i’m so empty,” you whine in response, angling his flared head to spear your core. “need your big cock, daddy—“ finally, finally his tip catches and slides in, sudden yet so achingly slow, your eyes rolling back in tandem with chan’s deep, guttural groan; the stretch burns deliciously, clouds over your senses as your mouth drops open in a moan for more.

“there you go, baby, just like that,” chan continues to bully his cock in past your tight rim, slow and gentle— but there’s nothing gentle about the way he fills you up, inch by fat, throbbing inch stretching your wet gummy walls to their limits. you can feel every ridge, every vein drag hot and heavy… you let go of his shaft in favor for scratching deep red marks into his flexing bicep, scrambling for something to hold on to and ground you. “daddy’s good girl, taking his cock so well— feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“b-big—!” you croak in a daze, an echo of your earlier sentiments; it was all you could manage to make yourself say, rendered brainless in an instant as chan’s blunt cockhead kisses your cervix. “so— so fucking big! ‘n deep, daddy, fuck—“

“yeah?” chan huffs, hips stuttering flush against yours. “am i too big for your little cunt, baby? feel me all the way up here?”

he presses down on the bulge his cock makes in your belly, causing the both of you to keen, your little dripping pussy fluttering around his cock as he twitches inside of you; you desperately want him to move, start pounding your pussy like you’ve been wanting so, so badly… you eagerly nod at chan’s teasing words, buck your hips the best you can folded in half. “yes, yes!” you wail, voice slurred, “give it to me daddy, please!”

“you’re so pretty when you’re begging for me, angel,” chan grins crookedly, pulling his hips back to slide himself out of your hole. you hold your breath in wicked anticipation. “beg some more and i’ll give you what you need.”

[ditzydoe444]

Simon Riley size difference to reader. Beefy (6'2 or 6'3 depending on source) compared to petite reader who is like a foot shorter (smut or fluff or wtvr)

- 💌

MDNI 18+

fucking simon riley with size difference

—ㅤ꒰ྀིㅤ simon riley x reader ಿৎ

▐ mentions of: vaginal sex, oral (m) (f) receiving, buried mentions of overstimulation, tummy bulge

simon adored you, the significant size difference between the two of you made his protective instincts go into overdrive. though in the bedroom it was a different thing. he loved you, and he made sure to show you that, mumbling sweet words of affection as he was balls deep into your tight cunt, “love you sweetheart,” he grunted as he gently kissed your shoulder as you clung onto him for dear life, babbling and drooling as your eyes rolled back each time you felt his tip hit that sweet spot of yours. “you feel so good, so tight for me,” his voice hoarse as your gummy walls clenched around him, making his dick twitch.

he didn’t have a favourite position, though he enjoyed it when he manhandle you, bending you like a pretzel making you take his cock in the deepest angles. at times, he would have you down with your knees up to your chest, you babbling out nonsense and moaning as he fucked you, orgasm after orgasm. sometimes he he fucked your cunt from behind, his large calloused hand wrapped around your throat forcing you to look up at him whilst his other arm wrapped around your waist. “such a pretty thing,” he cooed as his hand gently went to wipe the alleged waterproof mascara running down your cheeks “makin’ a mess sweet girl,” his tone soft, though there was a hint of mockery underneath it, like his ego swelled seeing his pretty girl all messed up and dumb because of him.

simon always took advantage of the size difference when fucking you, his strong calloused hands gripping your hips as he fucked you in missionary, nails leaving small crescent indents on your skin as the lewd sound of skin slapping echoed across the room. “droolin’ just from my cock eh? it’s not even in your mouth sweetheart,” he grunted as sweat dripped down his forehead, watching as his thick cock disappeared into your glossy cunt. “soakin’ the sheets too.”

he loved the way you sucked his cock, barely going halfway before gagging, making pathetic noises as his tips hits the back of your throat, tears welling in your eyes. “come on baby, y’ve got this yeah?” your hair held up by his hands as you slowly took him all the way in, your nose nestled against his pubes. simon was a gentlemen in bed, though he had a weird way of showing at times with like degradation and manhandling he wasn’t one to not return the favour.

so you would find yourself with your legs spread apart as he ate your cunt out, his strong hands holding your legs down with little to not effort. his strong hands would grip the inside of your thigh, gently massaging it as he ate you like a man starved.

though his favourite was thing was the tummy bulge, seeing the outline of his cock inside your stomach so deep, and hitting all the spots that made you go cross eye was enough for him to cum. “see me baby? that’s me right there,” his large hands gently outlining the bulge, before squeezing on your lower stomach, making you whine and moan. “so deep yeah?” simon teased as your mouth parts, letting out the most pathetic moans. “si, too big,” you whined as you barely recovered from your last orgasm, though he didn’t care, he loved making a mess out of his sweet girl.

[itoshiierae]

Hii I’m so glad you’re taking requests bc I literally love ur writing sm omg but I was wondering if you could write about blue lock boys finding out about their girlfriend’s celebrity crush and getting jealous ? (Ness , sae, rin, kaiser) ^^

bllk boys getting jealous of your celeb crush

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

ᡣ𐭩 ft: alexis ness, sae itoshi, rin itoshi, michael kaiser x f!reader

ᡣ𐭩 notes: omg anon you had no right being this real with that request. celebrity crush?? jealousy?? drama??? this was basically begging to be written HAHAH. tysm for the love bby ilyyy hope you enjoy the chaos!!! <33

✮ ALEXIS NESS ✮

he finds out when he glances over and sees your phone wallpaper — not even scandalous, just a candid red carpet pic of your celeb crush. and without thinking, you go, “ugh, he’s so perfect.” ness gasps. like. ACTUALLY gasps then places a hand on his chest like you just betrayed your entire relationship and whispers, “you’ve known me for years and you never looked at me like that?? am i just your second choice now…?” he’s 75% joking, 25% spiraling — already staring at his reflection like a heartbroken lead in a k-drama, muttering things like

“maybe i should grow my hair out”

“do i need to start wearing more suits??”

you have to grab his face and tell him he’s cuter. your real celeb crush, your favorite boy. he melts instantly. clings to you like a needy cat, head tucked into your shoulder, voice muffled and shameless when he whispers, “say it again. no, seriously — say it one more time.”

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

✮ SAE ITOSHI ✮

hears about your celebrity crush mid-scroll when you sigh and go, “he’s so hot oh my god,” and all he gives you is a flat, unimpressed “okay.” nothing else. doesn’t look up, doesn’t blink — just sits there in deadpan silence for a full five minutes until he randomly mutters, “he’s overrated.” and from there it spirals. suddenly he’s critiquing the guy’s acting, fashion, jawline, and entire existence like he’s on a judging panel he never signed up for.

he swears he’s not jealous. but later that night, when you’re in bed and he’s holding you a little tighter than usual — arms wrapped around your waist like he’s scared you’ll disappear — it clicks. you lean in, lips brushing the corner of his jaw, and whisper, “you’re still my favorite.” he doesn’t answer. just exhales. slow. and laces his fingers through yours like that’s all he needed to hear.

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

✮ RIN ITOSHI ✮

you mention your celebrity crush so casually — something innocent like “he’s totally my type” — and rin freezes. doesn’t move. doesn’t blink. just stares ahead like you handed him a breakup letter mid-match. you don’t even realize the shift until the silence drags.“..what?” you ask. nothing. just rin, sulking in high-definition. he mutters eventually, “i just don’t get it. what do you even like about him?” voice flat. tight.

he starts scrolling through his phone with more aggression than necessary, thumbs tapping like the app personally wronged him. you end up crawling into his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, whispering, “you’re the one i want, rin.” he exhales. finally… face buried in your neck, voice muffled and stubborn when he says, “don’t talk about him again.” and yeah… you don’t. mostly because it’s kind of hot when he gets like this.

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

✮ MICHAEL KAISER ✮

you’re watching an interview and casually mutter, “ugh, he’s sooo attractive,” like it’s no big deal. but that’s all it takes. kaiser snatches the remote without warning, pauses the video mid-frame, and narrows his eyes at the screen like he’s preparing to file a lawsuit. “..you mean this guy?” suddenly he’s scrolling through google images like he’s in a forensic lab, judging every photo with brutal, surgical precision.

“his jawline’s not even that sharp.”

“he wears THAT to interviews?”

“my hair’s better.”

and just to prove it, he pulls up a selfie of himself and starts comparing side profiles like he’s submitting evidence in court. he’s cocky about it — smug grin, head tilted — but you can tell he’s riled beneath the surface. because next thing you know, his arms are wrapped tight around your waist, pulling you into his lap, lips brushing your ear. “you don’t need a celebrity crush when you’ve got me,” he murmurs, voice low, dangerous, possessive. so you test him. “maybe he has better hair.” kaiser pauses. smirks. grabs your chin with that annoyingly gentle grip and leans in until your noses touch. “say that again, ..liebling. i dare you.”

© itoshiierae 2025 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ please do not modify or repost my content onto any other platforms.

[cameronsbabydoll]

it’s just the way i know sometimes when sexist!rafe picks out a dress/outfit for reader , that she was being kinda whiny to put on , he realizes she was right cs that shit was wayyyy to short nd evb is staring at her cs they can see her little lace underwear ns everything , nd rafe is js up behind her the whole day covering her nd tugging the dress down from behind . but when they get home ofc hes not gonna admit anything

-💌

not for their eyes

sexist!rafe x naive!younger!reader

warnings: age gap, ddlg tones, manipulation, sexism, possessiveness, clothing control, voyeuristic tension, power imbalance, public embarrassment, subtle non-consent (in terms of outfit), emotional dependency, rafe being emotionally withholding

you knew it was gonna be short the second he held it up that morning—soft yellow with a little white bow stitched into the waistline and puffy sleeves that made you look like some kind of storybook housewife.

“rafe,” you murmured, already fidgeting with the fabric, “it’s like… really short.”

he didn’t even look at you when he replied.

“good.”

and that was it. that was all he said before tossing it onto the bed and walking off to fix his watch, leaving you standing there like some silly little girl being told what to wear.

you pulled it on anyway, because he liked it. and you liked when he liked things.

it didn’t matter that it barely covered your lace panties or that your chest bounced too much when you walked. he picked it. and that meant it was important.

but now, hours later, under the hot sun and the stares of way too many people, you’re starting to panic.

because you’re not imagining it. the dress is too short. your thighs are constantly exposed, and the hem rides up higher every time you sit or bend. when the wind catches it, you feel air on skin that’s supposed to be covered.

and rafe notices.

he doesn’t say anything—of course he doesn’t—but he’s been behind you the entire day. not beside you. behind. and every time someone walks past, his hand is already on your waist, smoothing down the back of your dress like he’s fixing it. like he’s reminding you who you belong to.

“rafe…” you whisper when the group next to you clearly sees the edge of your panties.

his hand grips your hip a little harder.

“what’d i say earlier?” he asks, voice low near your ear.

you blink, swallowing, “that i’d look pretty.”

“and?”

“that i’d wear what you like.”

“exactly,” he hums, “now stop fussing.”

but you can’t stop. you keep trying to tug it down, even when he swats your hands away lazily like you’re a fidgety child.

by the time you get home, your cheeks are burning and your chest is tight, and he’s acting like nothing happened. like he didn’t see your lips tremble when you caught that guy staring. like he didn’t catch your hand gripping your hem so tight it crumpled the fabric.

“rafe?” you ask when he drops onto the couch and starts scrolling on his phone, one leg thrown wide.

he doesn’t even glance at you. “mm?”

you step in front of him, still in the dress. still shy. still flushed.

“…do you wanna see it again?” you ask, real quiet, twirling a little like a girl showing off a new toy. “i wore it all day for you…”

and that’s what makes him look up.

you’re so eager to please him, so clueless to your own discomfort. and he loves it. he loves that you still want his praise after he spent the whole day ignoring your whines, pretending not to notice the way people stared.

he loves that you trust him more than you trust yourself.

he pats his lap once.

“c’mere.”

you climb into it like it’s routine, the hem riding up again, panties flashing.

“you gonna cry again?” he murmurs, nosing into your neck. “just ‘cause you wore something a little short?”

“i didn’t mean to—” you start, voice already small.

he hushes you with his fingers grazing your thigh.

“i know, baby. but you insisted on wearing it right? didn’t you baby.”

his thumb hooks under the edge of your lace, tugging.

“but now you’re gonna show me how grateful you are, yeah?”

[mattsundaes]

dee… please elaborate on spitting in rin’s mouth while he’s jerking off 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

18+

>>: If you’re going to jerk off to porn in the middle of the night could you at least wear headphones Suna: sry Suna: ill cum faster if u wanna just come spit in my mouth Suna: lol jk

—

it’s been three days since rintarou sent you those texts, too high and tired and horny to temper a filter between his brain and his fingertips as they skirted across his phone screen.

you’d ignored him, naturally, and he’d come hard to the thought of you listening to him jerking off through the thin wall between your room and his.

(he’d woken up later to the sound of you making far more noise than was necessary out in the kitchen at some ungodly early hour, cum dried across his fist.)

nobody ever said suna rintarou was a good roommate.

it’s been three days, and rin feels just as dazed now as he did that night, but it’s for a wholly different reason.

“you know you’re kind of pathetic, right?”

whatever porn rin had been watching at full volume (no headphones, of course) sits forgotten on the dimmed screen of his laptop, the device pushed aside to make room for your thighs to straddle his lap.

rin blinks up at you, at the way you’re staring down at him expectantly, fingers buried in his dark hair, pulling just hard enough to keep his eyes on yours. (as if he could look anywhere else after experiencing the sight of you storming into his room wearing nothing but a tiny pair of sleep shorts and one of his goddamn shirts—)

“yeah,” he gives you a crooked smile, a lick of arousal flaring hot in his gut when you give his hair a rough tug in turn.

you roll your eyes, and he fights the urge to rock his hips upward. you’re sitting up on your knees, hovering over the erection that he’s been lazily palming through his boxers for the past half hour as you cage him in against the headboard.

“i have to be up at six for work,” you tell him, voice tinged with annoyance.

rin slowly pushes the heel of his palm into his shaft, shivering at the sensation.

“i can’t control when i get horny,” he shrugs, teeth dragging against his bottom lip as he feels more precum begin to soak into the growing wet spot on his boxers.

“i feel bad for whoever you’re sleeping with if you always take this long to come.”

rin tilts his chin even further, relishing in the way it tightens your grip on him, pain blooming on his scalp.

“it’s called edging,” he breathes out.

you level him with an unimpressed look. “well i want to go to sleep, so open your mouth.”

his cock twitches at the implication, and lips obediently fall open for you. and he swears he hears the word pathetic muttered under your breath again, but it’s all noise as blood rushes in his ears when you lean in, lips ghosting over his own.

rin’s not sure when he shoved his boxers down to let his flushed, leaking cock spring free, not sure when he wrapped his fingers around his throbbing shaft.

but he’s already groaning, hips thrusting as he fucks into his fist when your spit lands on his tongue.

“fuck,” he moans, mouth pressing into yours in a not-quite kiss as you card your fingers through his hair.

his dick feels like it’s on a hair trigger when he eagerly swallows your saliva, a desperate sound tumbling up his throat, hot pleasure flooding his veins. his balls ache. rin thinks he might die here, maybe.

that’d be okay.

and because you know he’s pathetic, you do it one more time, tilting his jaw as he feverishly strokes his dick.

when you spit in his mouth this time, rin comes with a shout, hips stuttering hard as he pumps rope after rope of hot, sticky cum from his cock, not at all sorry for the way half of it ends up splattered across your thighs.

(you leave him panting atop his sheets before he can get a word in. and he doesn’t bother trying to clean you up, not when he can imagine you splayed out in your own bed, touching yourself with slick, wet fingers coated in his cum.)

[deliriousgrl-writes]

Riding nate in his room after a football game would be insane

YES especially if he was in a bad mood 👀

secret//nate jacobs x fem reader

cw: emotional abuse, male anatomy described, female anatomy described, secret relationship, unprotected p in v, degradation, fem reader tries to top for the first time, riding nate because he’s sad or mad or whatever’s going on in his pretty head, he’s rlly mean tbh, doesn’t matter because you’re obsessed with him and he is with you

you knew better than to try and open your mouth right now. nate was silent as he drove down the dark streets of your town, his jaw clenched and his big hand gripping the steering wheel hard.

you were nate’s secret, you knew that, and it hurt more than ever tonight. you had been watching him in the bleachers during his game, the stands crowded and loud. your eyes were on him the whole time, number eighteen and his tall form a force on the manicured green grass. everything was going well, nate was one of the greatest assets on the high school football team, usually being the one who won the games. but tonight had turned out different, nate had seemed distracted before the game, though you weren’t able to speak with him before the game had started to try and find out why. you had saw something different in his brown eyes, his usual pride and confidence missing as he set foot on the field.

east highland was winning, and you were smiling and happy, cheering with the rest of your peers and everyone on the bleachers. everything was going as great as it always did when you watched nate play football, the scoreboard letting everyone know that the team was going to remain undefeated. your eyes focused on nate, watching as one of his teammates threw him the ball, but instead of running, nate’s tall form stayed put. you weren’t sure what was going on with him, or where his dark eyes were looking, but he froze. it happened so fast from where you were seated in real time, but as you sat, wondering why nate wasn’t running to go ahead and win the game, time seemed slower. your heart began to beat faster, your brows pinched together, and before you knew it someone on the other team was knocking nate’s tall body backwards on the field. your eyes widened, standing up on the metal bleachers, worry ringing through you. you wished more than anything that you could run over to him, wanting to be beside him but were forced to watch as his teammates, coach, referee, and medic crowded around him on the bright grass of the field. you couldn’t be with him, because nate wouldn’t want it, he wished to keep you far away in his day to day life. out of sight from everyone. his secret.

you were still stinging with worry as he finally got up, his coach and the ref holding his tall body up, nate’s face looking down at the ground like he didn’t want anyone to see him. they pulled him off the field, away from your view while you were forced to watch the rest of the game. his team won, but you didn’t care, just yearning to be wherever he was.

nate usually spent time with you after games, after he was paraded around with his teammates, accepting cheers and smiles. you knew where you needed to wait after games, somewhere in the dark and away from any prying eyes, where nate’s silver truck would pull up and you’d have to struggle to jump in. so you waited, watching as vehicles drove out of the parking lot, people leaving and the bright lights of the field shutting off. you wrapped your arms around yourself, wondering how long it would take him to finally show up, wondering if he was in pain or was being taken to the hospital or something.

but he finally showed up, and that’s why you found yourself in the uncomfortable silence as he drove you to his house. you wanted to say something, all the words on the tip of your tongue, but if you said them you figured nate would only get angry, taking all his frustration out on you instead of himself. he would probably accuse you of thinking he was weak or something, a retaliation due to his own insecurities. he’d been seeing you in secret for about seven months at that point and you’d learned enough about him to know how seriously he took himself, how much he beat himself up for being any less than the man he wanted himself to be. who he pretended to be. it was his ego and more than ever, watching his tense body drive in the dark, his ego was bruised.

once nate finally pulled up to his large family home, you jumped when he got out, him slamming the drivers side door of his big truck with force. you winced slightly, your body on high alert when instead of opening your door for you and helping you get out like he usually did, he quickly jogged up to his front door. when you finally worked up the courage to make it out of his truck and into his house, you slowly walked up the staircase, your eyes scanning around the jacob’s family portraits, younger versions of nate making your stomach twist. his bedroom door was closed and you slowly turned the knob, walking into his tidy space, the smell of his room a small comfort to you. the sound of the shower running could be heard from behind his bathroom door, and you went to sit down on his bed, your heart racing as you wondered what kind of mood he would be in once he was in your presence again.

you’d seen how angry nate could be, how much his face would change and how his deep voice sounded when he screamed. he had scared you more than once during the past seven months but you cared too much to walk away. finding yourself clinging to him no matter how fucked up the situation he put you in was. it felt as if you were helpless without him, nate made sure of it, making sure that you had no one close in your life but him. even your relationship with your family was strained now, spending any ounce of free time you had with nate, one of his main rules for you. and you did what he said everytime, everything he wished. after all, you just wanted him. only him.

your eyes darted to the bathroom door once he walked out, seeing his tall, lean muscular body in only some tight black boxers, watching as he moved around his dimly lit room. a lump was in your throat, his hands pulling out some clothes out of his wardrobe, his broad shoulders tense. you shifted nervously on his bed, his soft duvet under the exposed skin of your legs under your dress. nate liked when you wore feminine things like dresses and skirts, and you quickly changed your preferences to meet his, always wanting him to enjoy the way you looked even if you were uncomfortable.

he finally sat on the edge of the bed and your eyes stayed on him from where you sat near his pillows. you could hear his deep breathing, his slightly tanned, muscular upper body on display. the clothes he’d just dragged out of his wardrobe were piled beside him at the end of the bed but he made no move to put them on. your heart started to race as he put his head in his hands, him not making a sound but obviously showing signs of distress. “nate?” you whispered, anxiety in your limbs.

you could see him take a breath before he spoke, his deep voice low. “what?”

his reply was a bit muffled in his large hands still covering his face and you found yourself feeling bad for him. you knew that he was beating himself up because of the mishap at his game and you wished that he wouldn’t, your heart clenching in your chest. you let out a soft breath before moving on the bed behind him, your fingers a little shaky as you hesitantly placed them on his broad shoulders. his muscles tensed beneath your fingers and he pulled his hands down from his face, his elbows still resting on his thighs as he turned his head a little to look at you before you spoke. “are you-”

he cut you off before you could finish your sentence, his brows furrowing a little. “don’t even start,” he interrupted, his jaw clenching as he narrowed his dark eyes at you. it was as if he didn’t want you to try and comfort him at all, to just ignore how he was feeling and what had happened during his game. it made you upset, though you would never say so, not wanting to make him angry. you bit your lip as he turned away from you again, your hands still placed on his shoulders. you knew he didn’t wish to talk about how he felt but you also wanted to do anything you could to make him feel better. to ease his stress and try to turn him back into the nate you usually knew, the one who kept you hidden from his world but would also be the kindest, most doting boy you’d ever met. the boy who’d secretly left sweet notes in your locker, the boy who would pull you into dark corners in the high school you both attended to flirt with you and make you blush uncontrollably. of course nate could be rough during sex with you, but you didn’t mind, you liked it, one of the things nate made you realize about yourself. no matter how hard he would push you, no matter how rough, he would wrap you in his arms afterwards and praise you. kiss you all over and make you believe that he really saw you as all the good things he said he did. that you really were so good for him. so you decided to make him feel better the only way he would allow you to, taking the lead for the first time since he’d been sneaking around with you.

you closed your eyes for a second before you started, still feeling the lump in your throat and anticipating a bad reaction as you started to press your lips to his shoulders from behind. you did it over and over, gentle and soft, feeling his hot, freshly showered skin beneath your lips and smelling the delicious smell of his body wash in your nostrils. you rubbed your hands down his toned back, still pressing kisses to his skin. you finally felt him start to relax though he didn’t turn to look at you just yet, making you still feel weary as you continued. you were nervous to even be doing this, nate was always the one who initiated, always the one who kissed or touched you first, but you kept going, starting to feel yourself ache for him as you ran your hands over the muscles of his back.

you were on your knees behind him now, sitting up a bit as you leaned your head over beside his own, pressing your lips to his neck. you closed your eyes, your small fingers climbing up his back to his shoulders before traveling down to his collar bones. you were enjoying how warm and strong he felt beneath your fingertips, how heavenly he smelled as you slowly kissed the side of his neck all over. your eyes widened when he suddenly got up, making you fall back a little on his mattress, meeting his dark gaze as he peered down at you. you felt scared for a moment, wondering if his mood still hadn’t shifted from feeling your lips on his skin, but it quickly dissipated some as he leaned down and crawled over you. his strong arms were on either side of your head as he hovered over you smaller body, his face only inches from your own and you felt his hot minty breath over your skin. you didn’t wait for him to speak or move, you wanted to be the one who made him feel good, you wanted to make him feel all the things he was always making you feel. so you reach your hands up and cupped both his cheeks beneath your palms, pulling his head down a little as you finally crashed your lips onto his. nate reciprocated the kiss, thankfully for you, and you pulled him down lower, wrapping your arms around his neck to get closer. he pressed his body against you, his body heat making your stomach swirl and you could already feel how hard he was in his tight boxers, his tip poking into your leg. nate’s breathing was getting faster as you moved your lips over his, your fingers going to tangle in his damp, short hair.

nate was always making you feel high off him, the way his hands touched you or his lips tasted making your brain go fuzzy and your heart pound. you moaned into his mouth when he pressed his hardness into you, making him bring his hands down and grip your hips, pushing you hard against his bed. a fire was building inside of you as he dug his fingers through the soft material of your dress and into your hips, his mouth beginning to move a little more hungrily over your own.

you wanted him to forget about how the game went, forget about all the stress he was under, forget about anything but the way you felt in his hands and how your body craved his own. and it seemed to be working. he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and lifted your body up a bit, forcing you to sit in his lap, your thighs on either side of his hips. you could feel his cock pushing through his boxers against you, your dress concealing it but his hardness was pressed against your panties. it made your stomach burn and your body ache, knowing that he wanted you. you were still kissing him, your hands still in his hair as his own large hands ran up and down your sides. he pulled away, though his teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging it a bit before releasing it, making your breathing hitch. “what do you want?” he mumbled, his voice low and a bit breathless.

your face was already contorted into a needy expression, your head above his as his hands roamed over your body, his fingers squeezing a little as he gripped your ass through your dress. “to make y-you feel better,” you finally whined, his fingers digging into your bottom more. he nodded his head, looking up at you with his dark eyes, a sight that made you feel weak and like his prey.

“you wanna make me feel better? then let me use your tight fucking pussy,” he barked, moving his hand up to quickly grab a handful of your hair and tug your face down lower so that he was looking down at you. you whined, the painful sting of him pulling your hair versus how much pleasure you got from his cock still pressing up against your panties making you grow even wetter and achy. “say yes,” he commanded, narrowing his lustful gaze on you.

“yes,” you whined, nodding your head over and over. he pulled your face up to his again with your hair in his fingers, crashing his lips onto yours forcibly. his tongue traced between you lips, the taste of his toothpaste still on his wet tongue and making you whimper into his mouth. he released your hair, his hands moving to your hips and pulling you on top of his muscular body, his head hitting his pillows as he kept kissing you. you were straddling him, already lost in pleasure because of how intoxicating it felt to be wanted by him, a sensation you were always chasing it seemed. he pulled away, his breathing heavy as you stared down at him from above with wide, desperate eyes. he bucked his hips up, making you gasp in pleasure from feeling his clothed cock against your soaking core that rested in your panties still.

“you’re so fucking worked up already,” he taunted, “such a slut for me. already begging me to use your cunt.” his deep voice and degrading comments only made you ache more, already ready to start begging like he always made you. “i can feel how fucking soaked you are, even through my underwear. leaking all over my cock like a needy whore,” he smirked, shaking his head, “you like it, don’t you? letting me feel how much your pussy aches for me? i bet you want me to touch you right now and feel it? you want that, don’t you?”

you bit your lip, nodding and feeling him buck his hips up into you again, making you release your lip and moan. “don’t nod, say it. say, ‘i want you to feel how wet my pussy is for you.’ say it.”

he always made you say filthy things like this, but it turned you on so much. you really were needy for him, he could use you as he wished, however he saw fit and you wouldn’t complain. oh, how lost in him you really were. “i-i want you to feel… i want you to feel how wet m-my pussy is for y-you,” you stumbled out, your heat growing wetter as you said what he wanted you to say. he nodded, bringing his large hand up and cupping your cheek, his palm warm as he rubbed your face with his thumb.

“exactly. i know how much you want me,” he purred, his eyes peering into yours, “how much you want me to just fuck you until your fucking screaming. you know only i can make you feel that way right?” you nodded, actually agreeing with him. “now do what you said you’d do. make me feel better and take off your pretty little dress for me like a good slut.”

you immediately started ripping off your dress, so eager for him to touch your bare skin. you finally pulled it off your head, throwing it somewhere in his tidy room, leaving you in only your matching baby blue bra and panties. nate let out a breath, taking both his hands and starting to tease you with his fingers, tickling your skin as he started moving his fingertips up your thighs, over your hips and sides, before stopping as he got to your shoulders. your body twitched and squirmed on top of him as he did so, and you knew he enjoyed it. he liked teasing you until you were desperate for him, until you couldn’t take anymore. he smirked as he watched you shiver when he started pulling down your bra straps, his feather light touches making you squirm on top of his hard cock that pressed through his boxers.

nate pulled down your bra straps all the way, the cups of your bra releasing your breasts, your chest heaving, making them rise and fall, up and down as you stayed on top of him. “look at these tits,” he whispered, his deep voice still low, “your nipples are hard already. you want me to touch them, don’t you? yeah, i think that’d make me feel a lot better. you want me to feel better, right?”

“yes,” you whimpered, feeling his fingertips trace around them, the skin under your breasts and above them on your chest. you bit your lip, taking a breath when he finally started to fondle you. his big hands were warm on your skin, goosebumps raising all over your trembling body. the skin of his palms pressed against your sensitive nipples, making you let out a sharp gasp and choking you up. you looked down at him, his dark eyes directly on your face, an evil smirk on his lips.

“god you’re such a whore,” nate smirked, still keeping his voice quiet, “i can feel you getting wetter, you know? you like how my hands feel on these pretty tits, don’t you?” you nodded, already feeling overstimulated from his touch until he squeezed your breasts harder, his fingers dipping into your skin until it almost hurt. you let out a muffled cry, your voice choking from how worked up you were getting, from how turned on you already were. you’d do anything he said, let him touch you as he wished, tease you until he saw fit to give in. you let him be selfish, you knew that part of him would never change.

after his tight squeeze with his warm hands, he finally reach around your trembled form to unhook your bra, the blue material falling down over his abs beneath you. he grabbed it quickly and threw it somewhere in his clean room. “now,” he breathed out, almost rolling his eyes at you from how much you trembled and squirmed on top of him, knowing he could be rude to you right now because you didn’t care how he treated you in moments like this, because you secretly liked it, “you’re going to be a good girl for me and you’re going to take off those panties and you’re going to take my cock and ride me till i cum, okay? that would make me feel so much better.”

your needy face looked down at him, his fingers hooking into your cotton panties and teasing the skin on your hips, his eyes narrowing on you a bit and waiting for your submission. you’d never been on top of him before, never rode him. but he was asking you to, and he did say it’d make him feel better. you couldn’t help but whisper a soft, ‘okay’ and move off of his tall body for a moment, giving in despite your nerves. you slipped off the edge of his bed, standing there, feeling exposed with his gaze all over your body. you started to take your underwear off but he quickly stopped you as soon as you started, his voice sounding annoyed as he spoke. “turn around and let me see you bend over as you take them off,” his deep voice instructed you, a tinge of annoyance still evident in his tone, “go on.”

you bit your lip as you obeyed him, turning around and bending over slowly as you slipped your soaked blue panties off your body. they hit the ground and you stepped out of them, swallowing before you turned around. your heart started racing once you saw him, his own underwear off now and his thick, long cock in his hand. he rolled his brown eyes when you didn’t automatically step over and get back on the bed, annoyed that you just stood there and looked at his hardness. “do what i told you to do,” he sighed, his brows pinching together as he heard your soft rapid breaths, “i told you what would make me feel better, now do it.”

you nodded and crawled back on top of his tall, muscular body, the both of you now naked. you felt his cock from beneath you, your wetness resting on top of it and making your body heat up and your pussy ache painfully. his hands were digging into your hips, his nails painfully sticking into you as he waited impatiently. “stick it in you,” he gritted out, narrowing his eyes up at you again, “i know you don’t need any fucking time for foreplay. you’re practically dripping on my cock right now. so do what you want. you’re greedy like that, aren’t you? maybe you don’t even care how i feel or want me to feel better, maybe you just want to be a greedy slut and feel my cock inside you…”

“no,” you blurted out, blinking down at him as you shook your head, “i-i want you to feel better, nate. i want to do whatever you say that will help you right now.”

nate bit back a smirk at your words, looking up at the ceiling like he was trying not to laugh at you. he was cruel like that, but something about how his actions degraded you, only made you want him more. always wanting to please him. “okay,” he finally said, his dark eye boring into you, “then stop leaking all over me like a needy slut and actually take me.”

you quickly reach your hand down, lifting up on top of him a bit with your legs. your fingers wrapped around his large size and quickly pulled it up to your entrance, letting out a tiny moan when his tip hit your soaked entrance. he fingers dug into your hips more when you did, silently telling you to hurry and drop down on his cock. you shut your eyes as you lowered yourself on him finally, feeling him stretch you out, a loud whine leaving your lips as you finally took all of him.

“now bounce that pretty body up and down on my cock,” he instructed, or demanded, “make me ‘feel better.’” you started moving up and down on his length, the sensation new and pleasuring, the position making you love the way he looked up at you with his dark eyes, how his pupils dilated until his irises were almost black. his lips parted, pants leaving him as he kept his large hands on your hips and guided you up and down his cock. his deep voice let out a low groan, making you almost fall apart already, even if you’d just started. “you better not cum yet,” nate threatened, his words coming out breathy and dark, “i’ll be mad.”

you kept going, unable to stop the small whines and whimpers that left your mouth, his cock hitting your sweet spot everytime you lowered yourself back down on him. you shut your eyes tightly and he dug his nails into your hips again when you did, a silent reminder to keep them open and on him. you let out a choked whine, staring back down at him and trying not to cum, his chiseled features and heavy breaths from below you making you want to scream. “keep going,” he warned you, “don’t cum like a stupid slut already, you’re better than that. keep making me feel better, don’t be selfish.”

you would rather be damned than to not keep going for him, to not obey his breathy commands, so you kept up your movements on him. you kept yourself steady by bringing your small hands down to his heaving, broad chest, his black, hungry eyes boring into yours as you kept whining. you tried not to chase your own pleasure, trying to be keenly aware of how fast or slow you went, feeling when his legs would tense or when he’d groan so you knew you were making it about him. “fuuuck,” he groaned out, his eyes wide as he brought one of his large hands over your naked breast, squeezing as you continued to ride him, making sure to lift off of him and slam back down on his length, something that seemed to make his tall form tense and the muscles in his toned thighs twitch beneath. you were enjoying drawing these noises and reactions out of him, making him feel good, wanting him to praise you soon for doing good.

“you’re making me feel really good,” nate panted out, squeezing your hard nipple between his fingertips, earning a whine from you while keeping his other hand on your hip, “you wanna be good for me, don’t you? my little secret loves making me feel good.”

you moaned out a hitch pitched ‘yes,’ slamming yourself up and down his throbbing cock quicker. when he called you his ‘little secret’, it made you feel so dirty, but you couldn’t help but feel your stomach tighten from the expression. you loved being his secret, loved that he wanted you all to himself and the fact that no one knew who you belonged to, only him and you. you’d gotten used to lying for him quickly, and now, seven months later, being his secret was your favorite thing to be.

you felt yourself about to snap, biting your lower lip until you tasted copper as you tried to remain concentrated on him. it was hard, especially because he kept groaning and egging you on, knowing how hard it was for you not to cum when he spoke or made noises. nate knew your body and reactions well, and he used that knowledge to tease and taunt you, to wreck you completely during sex. it was his way, and you couldn’t do anything about it, which he reveled in.

“you’re squeezing me so tight,” nate choked out, “i can tell you’re about to cum. you better not, you’re doing this for me, remember? say it. say you won’t cum because you need me to fill you up first.”

nate’s demands and taunting sounded so dark coming from his deep, breathless voice. it was hard not to fall apart just from the sound, but you obeyed his command, your voice shaky and high pitched because of how much you were struggling not to come undone. “i won’t cum! i-i won’t! need y-you to fill me up first. please!”

nate let out a dark chuckle, grinning a sinful smile as he heard how close you were in your choked cry. “good girl,” he murmured, squeezing your hips with both his big hands, making you cry out as you felt how deep his nails were pressing into you, wondering if he’d leave bruises and struggling not to cum from the thought of him leaving his marks on you, “keep going. you’re lucky i’m about to fucking cum, gunna fill your tight cunt up real good. fuck- keep squeezing on my cock, i love feeling you about to fucking snap.”

“nate!” you whined out loudly, going as fast as you could on his length, his hard grip on your hips guiding you up and down and making you keep up your pace. he shook his head at you, denying your release, serious about you making him cum first. he was panting and groaning, his toned thighs tensing from beneath you, his grip on your hips never loosening.

finally, only a minute later, he was groaning even louder, his grip on your hips starting to slow your movements as he came inside you. you were practically screaming as you felt his length throb and twitch inside you, how his warm release was deep in you cunt. “there!” he growled out suddenly, his brows pinched together as his lips stayed parted as he breathed rapidly, “now you can fucking cum!”

that’s all it took, his permission making you twitch and moan uncontrollably on top of him as you finally found your release, even if your movements had stopped completely. you felt his cock start to soften inside you as he dug his nails into your hips still, knowing that simple action alone could draw out your orgasm further. your thighs shuddered around his hips as you finally started to come down, struggling to keep yourself upright on his body as you panted loudly in his quiet room. nate noticed, and despite liking the way you struggled, he wrapped his long, strong arms around you and lifted you off of him and down beside him on the bed. you closed your eyes as you tried to relax against his pillows, the muscles in your body beginning to grow tired as you finally came down fully.

he laughed at you darkly, something he often did when he saw how spent you were from him making you cum. nate pulled you closer to him as he laid on his side, pulling the soft duvet on his bed over you both to cover your bodies. “open your eyes,” he chuckled.

you fluttered your heavy eyes open and looked at him, the vicious smile still on his handsome face as he looked over your features. “thank you for being good for me,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and your cheek, making you relax even more, “you know that i do care about you, right?”

you nodded, wanting to believe him even if it was hard to decipher his true feelings. he nodded too, pressing a couple kisses to the side of your face, and wrapping you tighter in his arms. “so good for me,” he murmured against your skin, making a pink dust appear on your cheeks and your chest warm.

you never wanted this part to end.

[rafeslittlepup]

omgg the new fic , i want sexist!rafe to mansplain stuff to me

-💌

dumbification ( 𖦹‸𖦹)..

she just wanted to be helpful, tapping the hood of rafe’s car (the big one, the one that smells like leather and expensive cologne), blinking up at him with her cherry lip gloss catching the sun. “rafey, i filled it with gas but the little light is still on? the orange one that looks like a teacup or something?”

rafe freezes mid-step, turns real slow with that “you just said the dumbest thing in the world” expression he saves only for her.

“the teacup?”

she nods, her little ponytail bouncing. “yep! the- i think it’s a teacup, with steam? it came on right after i left the station.”

he sighs. deep, dramatic, hands on hips dad sigh.

“bunny,” he starts, walking toward her “that’s the engine light, not a teacup, jesus christ.”

“it looks like one to me,” she whispers, pouting now, and twisting the end of her dress around her finger.

he pulls the keys from her hand like he’s confiscating them. “alright, lesson time. gas is one thing. engine problems are another, you see any orange or red light, you don’t keep driving around like it’s nothing, understand?”

she nods again, all wide-eyed, so small and dumb.

“and this-” he pops the hood with a flourish and gestures “-is the engine makes the car go. if it’s messed up, we’re not movin’. no shopping, no pilates. you’re walkin’.”

“hmmm, okay,” she says softly, lip wobbling just a little. “i- i didn’t know…”

rafe’s whole body deflates. “goddamn it. why are you crying?”

“‘m not!” she insists, blinking hard. “i just didn’t know the little teacup meant that…”

he grumbles under his breath, runs a hand through his hair. “come here.”

she does, right into his chest, like the delicate little thing she is. maybe she doesn’t know car stuff, but she does know how to melt into him and blink up all helpless until he groans and kisses her head and tells her she’s “lucky she’s pretty.”

[mcondance]

Smoke with barely legal virgin reader who he makes ride them for their first time since they “wanted to be grown” and “was talking all that slick shit at the juke joint”

don’t hate me but i feel like this is more elias than elijah sorry friend tw big ass age gap, reader is quite literally freshly 18 so talks of that, elias is a nasty man, reader is a virgin, uses of “girl”, written in a southern accent

oh my god yeah.

just turned 18 a little less than 3 months ago, can still smell the milk on your breath when he’s close enough. can still see that sparkle in your eyes, the same sparkle you look at him with when you’re talking shit that gets his dick hard and so obviously trying to make yourself look older than you are.

elias can see through it all. with those wild eyes, he can see straight through that silky little dress and right on through to your body underneath it, the body you slink over the counter top in a vain attempt to gain his attention.

unfortunately, fortunately, for you, elias has never been the twin to make the rational decisions.

“she a baby,” smoke tells him, ducked off in the corner the day elias starts to give in, but elias is chewing on a toothpick imagining what he could do to you.

“shit,” he starts, “that girl know what she wan’. can’t give her nothin’ she ain’ been askin’ fa’.”

“gon’ give that girl what she askin’ for and see how that work ou’.”

elias ain’t never listened to his brother when it came to women, and he don’t plan on starting now. not when you ‘bout the easiest lil’ thing he’s seen in a long time.

he don’t know how it happened and you don’t either, but someway you end up at the little place he bought with straight cash, that little green dress he’s had the eyes for decorating the body he’s soon to have his way with.

he isn’t your first kiss, but he’s your first kiss like this. he don’t care that you haven’t been touched, he don’t care that the way he’s kissing you and licking into your mouth is definitely too much for a virgin like you, he don’t even care that you’re obviously overwhelmed and biting off more than you can chew.

he loves this shit.

he don’t respect you enough to take your clothes off, and he damn sure don’t respect you enough to even lead you to his bed. right on the couch is how he’s gonna take it from you, thighs spread under you while you grind on him and think to yourself about just how you’re gonna take all of it.

“ay, girl, get this up,” he slurs against your lips, pulling at your dress before he reaches for his belt buckle. desperate and willing, you meet him there and help him loosen his belt and then you’re reaching into his pants and pulling him out of his boxers. overzealous little thing, excited, eyes bigger than your cunt.

“you grown, girl?” he asks, rubbing himself through your oh-so abundant wetness, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, golds shinin’ like his blown eyes. you nod, whining as you feel his tip glide against you like cold whiskey down your throat. “yeah?”

you feel grown right now. grown as hell. growner than you’ve ever felt before.

“lemme see how grown you is, then. baby talkin’ all tha’ slick shit at the joint, lemme put that money where that mouth is.”

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. but stack’s so fine and it’s now or never, you can’t go back on your word after all you said and done. you wouldn’t go back even if you wanted to. you ain’t letting this go.

elias fucks you like you’ve been takin’ dick for years. hands wrapped around you, big hand pressed to the middle of your back, he stuffs you full and has you choking on your words, has your thoughts jumbling and folding in on each other. green fabric slips down your shoulders and leaves your whole chest bare for his disgusting eyes.

elias feels powerful, and vile all the same. goddamn cradle robber and he don’t feel nothing but pride and power.

“you just a baby, girl, don’ know nothing. but i’ll teach ya’. i’ll teach you good, girl. learn you everythang you wanna know.”

[pxpecxdy]

robby has the type of dick that knocks the wind out of you

You're so right. It's thick and big and he knows it. Sure, he'll get you going, play with your pussy a little bit. Suck on your clit til you're nearly yanking his hair out. But he loves just shoving himself all the way in. The first thrust is always brutal. He's in your guts. There's no place for oxygen in your body, not when he takes up so much room. Robby takes pleasure in hearing the way you gasp. "Just breathe" he whispers in your ear as he leans over you, knowing damn well that he's the reason you forgot how to breathe.

[purple-plum-petals]

Homicipher request for the Homicipher starved fans pls? 🥺 Is it okay to ask for the reactions of Mr. Silvair, Mr. Chopped(as he gets wheeled past us on a cart after being kidnapped, again), Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, and Mr. Scarletella with a reader who winks and blows a kiss as they pass by them? Like for some reason reader seems to be in a really good mood and they're skipping around with their trusty crowbar in hand then they see one of the boys then mwa~💋. I can imagine that they'd be confused at the unfamiliar gesture but I'd like to get your thoughts on it. 😂

⊱ Homicipher Characters’ Reactions to MC Winking at Them and Blowing Them a Kiss ⊰ || Multiple Character Headcanons

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

Character(s): Mr. Silvair, Mr. Chopped, Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, and Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (MC’s Lore), Brief Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (Mr. Machete’s Part), Canon-typical Horror Elements (Mr. Gap and Mr. Scarletella's Parts), Cultural Barriers (None of Them Understand the Gesture). Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Platonic or Romantic Relationship Word Count: ~1,880 Request: “Homicipher request for the Homicipher starved fans pls? 🥺 Is it okay to ask for the reactions of Mr. Silvair, Mr. Chopped(as he gets wheeled past us on a cart after being kidnapped, again), Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, and Mr. Scarletella with a reader who winks and blows a kiss as they pass by them? Like for some reason reader seems to be in a really good mood and they're skipping around with their trusty crowbar in hand then they see one of the boys then mwa~💋. I can imagine that they'd be confused at the unfamiliar gesture but I'd like to get your thoughts on it. 😂” Author’s Note: They all would definitely be confused by the unfamiliar gesture, so I kind of did headcanons about how each of them would react to you blowing them a kiss/how they would go about trying to understand what the gesture meant by using context clues (or just straight-up asking you about it haha). Sorry if they’re not great! I’m still trying to figure out how I want to balance the characters’ personalities as they are in canon while adding some more fun/whimsical aspects of your ask.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

💉: He smiles softly at your cheerful demeanor, yet it falters slightly when you press the tips of your fingers to your lips and squeeze one of your eyes shut in response to him looking in your direction. You remove your fingers from your pursed lips and blow out a puff of air before continuing in the direction you had been walking towards. While he could infer you were in a good mood by your body language, he was curious to know what exactly the gesture meant. 

💉: Instead of lightly treading the question or observing you for any longer to see if he could figure out what the gesture meant by using context clues, Mr. Silvair instead just asks you directly to get an answer as soon as possible the next time he sees you. He deeply enjoyed research and observation, yes, but there was no need to wait to gather information when you were a perfect source of it. 

💉: Of course, it wasn’t easy to explain what “blowing a kiss” was, especially since they didn’t even have equivalent words in their language for “blow” or “kiss,” but you tried your best with what you had to work with. It’s almost funny how earnestly Mr. Silvair is hanging onto every word you speak. He chuckles after you finish explaining, amused by the gesture and its meaning – how quaint, he thinks to himself. 

💉: He found humans to be fascinating and their diverse cultures even more so, so he was of course interested in learning whatever you were able to recall from your previous life in your old realm before you ended up in this one. He treats everything you tell him with an air of respect, and he even documents what you share with him so he (and you) never forget that part of yourself. 

💉: Mr. Silvair finds the gesture to be an entertaining one, but deducts that it’s not usually one humans do with strangers or those they are not comfortable with from your explanation. Does that mean you are comfortable enough around him to express yourself in that manner? How fascinating... Do you care to tell him why you feel the way you do toward him? He’s very much interested in learning the reasoning behind your thought processes. 

🗣️: Mr. Chopped smiles so widely when he sees you in such a chipper mood, making your way down the hall with a noticeable spring in your step. He likes seeing you happy, so it makes him feel good, too, watching you skip by with such a bright expression on your face! Then, you press your hand to your lips and wink, blowing something he couldn’t see in his direction, and suddenly he’s confused. 

🗣️: Huh… well, that was strange. For some reason, though, the playful gesture seemed almost familiar, yet he couldn’t remember why. He can’t exactly chase after you and ask what that meant, so he’d have to wait until the next time he saw you (which he hoped wouldn't be a long wait – he liked spending time with you). 

🗣️: The next time he saw you, he asked if you could explain what the gesture meant. You did the best you could, but you’re pretty sure he comprehended what you were telling him if the giddy expression on his face was anything to go by. His excitement was quite adorable. However, his expression suddenly falls, and you watch him begin to sulk. How was he supposed to blow you a kiss in return? He didn’t have a body!! The poor man is so distraught. 

🗣️: He gets either Mr. Silvair to help him out or Mr. Hand to, well… give him a hand to enact his plan. The next time you see him, he calls out to you with such a delighted look on his face. So, you make your way over to him and kneel down to his level, watching as the sentient hand comes up to Mr. Chopped’s lips, making the same gesture you did, before he blows you a kiss and winks. He did it! He blew you a kiss!! 

🗣️: Mr. Chopped is very proud of himself and the pleased expression on his face is far too charming for you. He feels a warmth in his metaphorical chest knowing that you felt comfortable enough with him to blow him a kiss, especially since it seems like something humans do with those they are most comfortable with. 

🕳️: He’s honestly somewhat impressed you knew he was there, observing you through the small hole in the wall while you walk around like you’re on top of the world. He can’t help but wonder what happened that has you so chipper, but his thoughts are derailed a bit when you press your hand to your mouth and blow something at him, closing one of your eyes as you do so… What the hell was that?? 

🕳️: He feels somewhat offended, honestly, and gets that semi-disgusted look on his face before disappearing into the darkness. Mr. Gap understands it’s some kind of weird human gesture, but he can’t really put two-and-two together about what it means. Though, he finds himself continuing to watch you from any nook-and-cranny he could find, observing you to see if you would do the gesture again – you don’t.

🕳️: Mr. Gap ends up startling you while you’re walking down a long, grimy hallway, his hand darting out from a vent to grab your ankle. His grip isn’t tight, but it most certainly scares the life out of you and effectively catches your attention. He finds your scare amusing but ends up cutting straight to the point and asks you why you blew something at him. 

🕳️: Even after explaining what the gesture meant, Mr. Gap still doesn’t fully understand why you did it, so you just tell him it was supposed to be a nice gesture that showed you enjoyed him – playful. That is something he does understand, and it’s almost amusing how the smirk on his face grew. He must be special, he thinks, and his smugness is radiating from his face peeking out of the darkness. 

🕳️: Mr. Gap doesn’t do the gesture back, but he strangely enough finds himself hoping you don’t blow anyone else your kisses. He doesn’t know why the thought of you sharing the gesture with another annoys him a little bit – after all, it wouldn’t make it special anymore if you did it with everyone. He even begins bringing you things, like more crowbars or even pieces of candy he finds lying around. It’s almost like he’s trying to bribe you…

🔪: He sees you happily skipping around and finds himself having to do a double-take at the strange sight. It wasn’t a bad sight, not at all, it was just weird seeing you so bright and lively. However, his mind buffers a bit when you look at him, pursing your lips and giving him a wink before your fingertips press to your mouth and then flick towards him. 

🔪: Mr. Machete is immediately annoyed, not knowing what the gesture meant, and he assumes you were trying to pick a fight with him. So, he takes his large sword and reels it back, throwing it at you with a strength that still had your eyes boggling. You duck with a yelp as the sword implants itself into the wall behind you. 

🔪: He makes his way over to you with incredible speed, blocking your body between his and the wall as he looks down at you, his head tilted to the side as he asks you if you wanted to fight him. Mr. Machete finds your frustrated expression endearing as you tell him the gesture was meant to be playful and fun. He’s low-key kind of disappointed you didn’t want to fight, but he steps away from you after your explanation without another word. 

🔪: However, while looking down at your angry expression, Mr. Machete suddenly has the urge to squeeze you (I imagine he experiences cuteness aggression regarding you). So, he reaches down and squeezes your cheeks between his large and calloused hand, causing your lips to purse. Even though you hadn’t been in the mood to fight him, now you were. He smirks widely as you two begin to spar all because he misconstrued what your gesture meant. 

🔪: Mr. Machete doesn’t see the point of blowing kisses, and he doesn’t feel any particular way about the gesture. It’s kind of whatever for him, even though he does notice that you don’t seem to do it with anyone else. After the first time (that ended up leading to a spar), though, he notices you hadn’t blown him another kiss since… He ends up coming up to tell you in his gruff, almost rude way, that he wouldn’t mind if you did it again. 

🩸: He tilts his head to the side at the gesture, his shaggy red hair swaying with the movement. Well… that was new, he thinks. He liked you quite a bit (far more than just a bit, really… my man is kind of obsessed with you), and he had been following you throughout your entire journey in this realm, yet he had never once seen that expression or gesture from you before. Now, he was curious to know what it meant, and he was going to try and figure it out one way or another.  

🩸: He continues to keep his eye on you, following you as you go about your day. Mr. Scarletella likes seeing you so chipper and full of life, especially considering you were someone who tended to take life from others. The dichotomy between your behavior and actions had his heart racing. However, despite what he expected, you never did the gesture again. So, he couldn’t gather information by observing you – he would need to simply ask you directly, then. 

🩸: Mr. Scarletella effectively manages to corner you after some time, catching you completely off-guard. While you two had certainly started off on the wrong foot, you had gotten to the point where you were relatively calm and comfortable around the strange man who was so incredibly down bad for you. He gazes down at you with his lifeless eyes, inquiring about the gesture you made earlier. 

🩸: You explain to him what the gesture meant for you, that you were simply in a good mood and felt a little bit playful at the moment when you blew him a kiss. Mr. Scarletella smiles at your words, feeling very pleased with the information. So, it meant you liked him, correct? It meant you felt comfortable enough to express your happiness towards him in such a way, right?

🩸: Well, you inadvertently ended up making him even more obsessed with you, and now his feelings become even stronger every time you blow him a kiss. Mr. Scarletella finds the act an interesting way to express your interest and enjoyment of another being, so he begins to blow you his own kisses in return. He is one of the characters I feel would want to learn more about human customs to deepen his relationship with you even if he doesn’t fully grasp why some gestures mean certain things. 

[chikaras-garden]

Demonhead Damian when his lovely sugar baby is angry and giving him the silent treatment, how does this possessive man handle this?

Hot anger flares in your chest as you stride through the halls, and every assassin in your path knows not to get in your way. When you look like that—powers sparking, eyes alight—everyone knows that it’s more dangerous to cross you than to feign ignorance when the Demon Head inevitably questions them. 

The guards avert their eyes when you burst into Damian’s chamber and accuse, “You dismissed my maid!”

As he sits behind his desk, his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. Then, his eyebrow quirks—just a little. “Removing one of your friends? That is all it took to convince you to speak to me again? To think I had considered having her killed.”

“I am still angry with you,” you point out, inclining your chin in the face of his blatant nonchalance. He’s not afraid of you? Good. You’re not afraid of him, either.

He tilts his head, corners of his mouth twitching. “Come to me, princess.”

You scoff. “Hire my maid back.”

A beat of silence passes, and then he lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Very well. But I do expect you back in my bed this evening; sleeping alone is…”

This time, he’s the one to wrinkle his nose.

“…inadequate.”

[xo2dee]

Hello! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to ask if you would be willing to write some soft Vergil smut, A lot of body closeness/bratty conversations/long kissing and all that stuff? Or anything like that! Have a great day and thank you for writing fics!!

PAIRING: Vergil/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Soft!Vergil. WORD COUNT: 1,721.

A/N: thank you for the request! love me some comfortable and soft vergil

DMC MASTERLIST

In the hours of the night, you found yourself restless and on the cusp of a dream if not for the stirrings of yearning attention from your lover’s newfound neediness.

Moonshine glimmered throughout the window above your head, your legs twisted with another behind the warm and freshly cleaned sheets before your eyes focused on the petals of an Orchid perched atop the windowsill. Your tired eyes nearly drifted closed against the sheen of the moon as it reflected off the petals in a shadowy embrace, the strap of your negligee sliding off your shoulder once more as your chest expanded with the sigh at sight of a lonely cloud capturing the moon the same time you felt the incessant prodding of the man behind you. Soundlessly you felt him move forward to graze your shoulder with his lips, pulling you to the surface of wakefulness before you could fully drown in sleep as his fingers continued to tug and pull on the strap of your lingerie.

A nose dug its way into the space behind your ear afterwards, and the arm, heavy and secure, constricted around your waist tightened before a long rumbling sigh vibrated from his chest and into your spine. You waited for the inevitable grumble of whatever he was going to say, but instead Vergil only hummed and skimmed his nose down towards your neck instead, “Hmm.”

You leaned back into him, the bare skin of his ivory shoulder coming into view as your eyelashes fluttered as your fingers found his forearm along your abdomen, “What are you ‘Hmm’-ing about now?”

“Your perfume’s changed.” His face moved close enough for his chin to slide along your temple, and you almost laughed at his small, dejected tone. He never would get used to you switching things up on him so often.

A shrug had your bodies molding together even more, “Well, yeah, I told you I bought a new kind.” Vergil only grunted his acknowledgment before he moved back to entertaining himself – and entertaining himself being pulling at the fabric of your negligee every which way he could. It was almost like he was hinting at something, oh Vergil, the so quiet and proud type.. He wouldn’t openly voice his desires unless it was born of frustration, using his movements to get his point across and if he was trying to make it known he wanted something… Insatiable Vergil as well, given you were still wet and trembling from the transgressions from earlier. You sighed and feigned nonchalance, “If you’re gonna just tug on it, take it off.”

“No,” Vergil fingers trailed down in a taunt over your hip to the hem of your gown, lifting it up a fraction as his knee began to slide forward to urge your legs apart for him before you felt the smile in his voice at his tease. “I’m admiring.” His voice was soft and warm as it tickled your ear – full of life as he enjoyed the time alone he had with you since for once Vergil was allowed a moment of respite from… everything.

You allowed entry of his knee as you opened your legs, and Vergil took the initiative to press forward enough to lift your leg over his hip before situating himself more comfortably behind you. Chills erupted along your body you knew he hummed at, the evidence of his desire sliding up in-between you as you felt his fingers curl a fist into the hem of your gown. “As long you don’t rip this one.”

A very rare and small snort blew air into your cheek, the fingers disappearing from your gown to pull your panties to the side in preparation, “You act like you don’t have a drawer full.”

You rolled your eyes and fought off the gasp at the press of his cock into your opening so eagerly, your mind flitting through the various lingerie you owned just to entice him – and, all the ones he’d ripped in the past in his passion to get his hands on you. A pout adorned your face as the arm around your stomach moved, sliding up silkily along your chest until your felt his fingers secure a hold onto your chin before the pad of this thumb stroke you there. “So? What’s wrong with wanting to look nice? You’re the one who rips them with your teeth.”

Vergil’s body shook with the dark chuckle he gave, finding humor in your tone and conviction before he squeezed your cheeks affectionately… yet not disagreeing with you had said. Your foot slid against the silk of his pajama pants atop his thigh, noting he’d only pulled them down enough to free himself (and when had he done that?) whilst his torso remained as bare as always when he slept. Another low hum rumbled out his throat as you felt the wisps of his hair tickle your cheek, then he was nosing along your warm skin as he continued to prod at your entrance. Gentle he was feeling then, but he wasn’t above being impatient as well since that particular part ran out.

“And whose fault is –” he turned your face to him, only the glisten of icy eyes seen to you in the moonlight before he leaned down far enough to tease a kiss along your lips, and then abruptly pushed himself inside of you with a keening hiss, “that?”

You whined as he pushed up far enough to fully seat himself inside of you, his face falling forward enough to capture you mouth with his as he wasted no time to begin rolling his hips in long, slow, and deep strokes in and out of you. He swallowed your noises that time around, not willing to break away from the kiss at any point as your fingers gripped what parts of his skin you could find to find any leverage in the way your body was already surrendering to the pleasure he was giving you. Vergil’s fingers squeezed your face once more at the same time his other hand dipped down into your clit as he began to circle a pattern atop of it to get you off quicker. You could feel yourself melt in his hold, whines and gasps he greedily savored with his tongue as you began to absentmindedly rock with his thrusts.

And you knew from there with the softness Vergil was providing, the sensitiveness from your trysts before, and his proficient knowledge on just how your body worked, it wasn’t going to be a long session that time. For you, or him.

With the pressure of his touch and the firm, slowness of his thrusts, it was only a matter of a minute or so before you were dangling off that mouthwatering point, braced and ready to freefall into your release. And Vergil huffing into your wet mouth led on the fact he wasn’t faring any better, the softness something he craved yet had such a hard time disrupting making his body react harder and tighter than ever before, and Vergil’s desire to keep you close and on his mouth affected you in the way that had your mind spinning into euphoric insanity. Of course you had been right too, and when your lover groaned loud enough into your mouth to make your teeth vibrate and when a deep push inwards of his pelvis as his fingers lightly pinched your clit made you squeal, you were careening back into your climax once more.

Your release was instant and blinding, making a chain reaction of the moonlight dance behind your eyes, and you clutched him like a lifeline feeling how your knees turned to jelly with the force of your orgasm. He spilled inside you not soon after as well, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of your insides squeezing him so tightly and the moan you whined onto his tongue, spreading warmth to your very core and claiming you once again as his. You continued to shake as he rode out the aftershocks of his pleasure, turning blissfully boneless in the wake of your release and feeling the frantic beat of his heart alongside yours. 

Vergil eventually released your lips with a sigh, his head falling to rest along your collarbone as you turned onto your back to see him before swiping your hand along the sweat along his cheeks. Your other hand began to swipe through the tresses of his hair too, feeling him hum in complete contentment from the sensations as you waited for him to gather his bearings. Because you knew then, neither of you were tired enough to actually fall asleep, and if Vergil’s appetite was still unsatisfied, you knew you were in for a long night. Especially with the way you two had been toying with each other all night as well… Something that made you eye him warily as he absentmindedly began to draw shapes into your thigh, like he wasn’t plotting more in his mind.

You sighed, “That’s three times, Vergil.”

He grunted into your flesh, arms sliding around to hold you closer before you felt him lightly nibble at your neck, “You haven’t complained.” Okay, he had you there, but you were pretty sure he was losing the bet of not being able to not ruin your lingerie since it was soaked. He also was still supposed to be admiring you only too, but had gotten his way each and every time you moaned the tiniest bit at him. A horrible bet actually… You telling him you bet he couldn’t last all night not ripping the gown off of you after you modeled it for him, and then him betting he could and keep you pliant underneath him before you came undone over and over again without so much as a thread missing from your body.

There had to be a loophole somewhere for you to win…

However, Vergil was never a quitter, and he liked to remind you at all times whenever he got to hold something against you. Like then, when you felt his lips curve upwards at your throat before he began to tug at the bodice of your negligee, and you felt your eye twitched for the oncoming gloat.  

“And, I still haven’t taken this… gown off. The bet’s still on.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

[cameronsbabydoll]

can i take you up on a previous offer ? bluecollar!rafe summer nd hes grilling out back on the deck ; you come out in a sundress nd while the food is on the grill he bends you over the railing nd gives you backshots 😇😇😇

-💌

sweat & sundresses

blue!collar!rafe x wife!reader

warnings: smut, semi-public sex, outdoor sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, possessiveness, southern dialect, 18+

the summer heat clings to your skin, as you step out onto the deck. rafe’s out back, manning the grill, the smoky scent of ribs and burgers filling the air. he’s in a faded hat, turned backward, his t-shirt is stretched tight across his shoulders, sweat beading down his neck from the july sun. he has a cold beer in one hand, tongs in the other, grinning when he spots you.

“well, damn, darlin’,” he says, voice low and rough, his eyes dragging over the floral sundress you’re wearing. it’s light, flowy, and it hugs your curves just right, the hem teasing your thighs. “you tryin’ to kill me out here or what?”

you smirk, swaying your hips just slightly as you close the distance, the wooden deck creaking under your strappy sandals. “just thought i’d look nice for you, rafe,” you tease, leaning against the wooden railing, letting the breeze catch the hem of your sundress.

he sets his beer down, wiping his hands on his worn out jeans, and steps closer, all broad shoulders and that cocky glint in his blue eyes. “nice don’t even cover it, sugar” he murmurs, voice dripping like honey, but there’s a heat underneath, something hungry. he’s close now, close enough where you can smell the mix of charcoal smoke and his cologne, something cheap but so damn him.

“food’s gonna take a minute,” he says, glancing at the grill, then back at you, his gaze lingering on the way your sundress clings to your hips and waist. “you gonna keep me company out here, sugar?”

you nod, biting your lip slightly, and he’s already moving, his big hands finding your waist, spinning you so you’re facing the railing. your breath catches as he presses up behind you, his body is warm and solid, the rough denim of his jeans brushing against your bare thighs. “rafe,” you half-laugh, half-whisper, gripping the wooden rail. “someone’s gonna see.”

“let ‘em,” he growls, voice thick with that southern drawl, low and filthy. “ain’t nobody out here but us, and i ain’t waitin’ another damn second.” his hand slides up your thigh, pushing the sundress higher, calloused fingers rough against your soft skin. you arch back into him, feeling him hard through his jeans, and he chuckles, dark and dirty. “goddamn, you’re trouble, ain’t you?”

you glance over your shoulder, catching the way his eyes burn into you, all that sweet southern boy charm swallowed up by something primal. he leans in, lips brushing your ear. “hold that rail tight, darlin’. gonna give you somethin’ to remember.”

he’s quick then, one hand flipping your dress up, the other working his belt loose with a clink. the grill sizzles behind you, the ribs forgotten for now, and you’re already trembling, the anticipation making your knees weak. he doesn’t bother with slow, not out here—he’s all in, rough and needy, bending you over the railing like he’s been dreaming of it all day. the first thrust steals your breath, hard and deep, and you gasp, fingers digging into the wood.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters, voice gravelly, his grip bruising on your hips. “my pretty little thing, takin’ it like this.” he’s dirty with it, every word dripping with that southern twang, sweet and nasty all at once. the deck creaks under his rhythm, steady and relentless, and you’re half-sure the neighbors’ll hear the way you’re moaning his name, but you can’t care.

“rafe, shit, slow down,” you manage, but it’s half-hearted, and he knows it. he laughs, low and rough, leaning down to nip at your shoulder.

“slow down? nah, baby, you can take it.” his hand slides up your back, keeping you pinned, the railing digging into your stomach as he keeps going, each thrust harder than the last. “look at you, all pretty in that dress, lettin’ me fuck you out here like a goddamn dream.”

the sun’s dipping low, painting the sky pink and orange, and the grill’s still smoking, the ribs probably charred by now, but rafe doesn’t give a shit, and neither do you. it’s just him, his hands, his voice, that dirty southern charm unraveling you. “gonna have to do this again,” he pants, voice hitching as he gets close. “you in this dress, bent over every damn surface i got.”

you’re too far gone to answer, just clinging to the railing, letting him take what he wants, the summer heat and his filthy words pushing you over the edge. when you come, it’s with a shudder, his name spilling out of you, and he’s right behind, groaning low, holding you tight like he’s never letting go.

he pulls you up after, spinning you to face him, kissing you hard, all teeth and tongue, still tasting like beer and smoke. “fuck, darlin’,” he says, grinning, all boyish again, like he didn’t just ruin you against his deck. “think i burned the damn ribs.”

you laugh, shaky, smoothing your dress down. “worth it,” you say, and he winks, already grabbing his beer like nothing happened, but the way he’s looking at you says this ain’t over.

[rhiannonsknife]

😭 Thank you so so so so so much for writing my request!! There's absolutely no rush with this I just wanted to ask another one, Because I'm kind of obsessed with your work-

Perhaps Jackie Taylor X Reader where they have been married for a long time. Like 10 plus years. She wakes up ready to go to work but their reading is standing in the kitchen, And it reminds Jackie of when they were so young and in love. It just makes her fall in love with the reader all over again and she decides she just has to take the reader and eat her out on the counter!

-🦜

── RUNNING HOME TO YOUR SWEET NOTHINGS

— summary: slow mornings with jackie.

— warnings: established relationship/marriage. fem!reader. domestic fluff & nsfw content. mdni.

jackie stretches as she wakes, letting consciousness settle over her slowly. the sheets are warm, cocooning her in their familiar weight, too tempting to leave just yet. from the other room, the quiet sounds of morning drift in; the rustle of pages turning, the soft clink of a spoon against ceramic.

jackie’s muscles, untrained but prominent from years of soccer in highschool and college, uncoil as she turns her head toward your side of the bed. it’s empty but still holds the warmth of you, the shape of your body faintly imprinted on the freshly washed sheets. not gone long, then. she smiles to herself, fingertips tracing the dip where you had been.

a soft weight presses against her shin, pulling her from the last remnants of sleep. glancing down, jackie finds your cat curled at the foot of the bed, paws tucked neatly under its chin. she reaches out, running her fingers over its soft fur, scratching lightly between its ears. the cat barely stirs, only flicking its tail once before sinking deeper into sleep. even after all these years, it still favors you.

with another stretch, she swings her legs over the side of the bed, the morning air cool against her skin. reaching for the worn sweater draped over the chair, jackie tugs it on quickly. yours, technically, but she’s long since claimed it as her own in the mornings. the fabric is too large on her, with sleeves hanging way past her hands, but it smells like you and the lavender laundry detergent you always buy and feels more comforting than any of her own clothes.

once she pulls it over her head and untangles her limbs from the sheets, she moves from the bedroom. jackie already knows exactly where she’ll find you.

as she walks through the hallway, she passes all the little signs of your life together: the framed photo from your honeymoon hangs slightly crooked on the wall, something you always insist you’ll fix but never do. tucked into the frame is a worn polaroid from your first apartment, covering a small crack in the glass. in it, jackie is holding up a wine glass, while you’re caught mid-laugh, leaning into her the same way you always have, even in the wedding photos that follow further down the hall.

the entryway table holds a vase of dried flowers, a bouquet she had given you months ago, now preserved because you couldn’t throw them out. nearby, a small stack of mail she keeps meaning to sort through, books piled beside it, some hers, some yours, overlapping in the same way your lives always have. it’s a cozy kind of mess, one that makes her smile even in passing.

and then there’s you, the centerpiece of jackie’s existence now, standing in the kitchen, bathed in the light that spills through the curtains.

you’re still in your nightgown, its hem skimming the curve of your thighs, and your hair is a little mussed from sleep. one hand cradles a mug, while the other flips absently through a book on the counter, your lips quirking every so often at whatever you’re reading while you wait for the eggs to cook.

jackie freezes in the doorway to watch you for a bit.

it’s been over a decade. over ten years of this, of waking up and falling asleep to you, learning every single one of your habits, and still, she finds herself caught off guard by how much she loves you and how much she still wants you, in all the ways that matter.

she remembers mornings like this from the beginning, back when you were both in high school, and time alone was a rare thing. the only moments you had to yourselves then were tucked into the short window between her parents leaving for work and shauna pulling up to drive you both to school.

everything felt like new territory back then. your presence in her house had meant rushed breakfasts at the kitchen counter, stolen kisses between sips of coffee in the too-large home of the taylors, always cut short by the sound of an approaching car and the reality that you couldn’t stay.

now, here you are, still stealing her breath away.

you glance up as if sensing your wife, and your face softens into a smile. jackie swallows, her heart doing something embarrassingly teenage in her chest.

“you’re staring,” you tease, taking a sip of your tea. jackie hums, pushing off the doorframe and crossing the room. “can’t help it,”

you laugh. before you can say anything else, she’s there, warm hands finding your waist, pulling you into her. sighing into the touch, you instinctively set your mug down on the counter as she buries her face against your neck and breathes you in.

“mhm, good morning to you too mrs (y/l/n),” you murmur.

god, jackie never tires of hearing that: your name, now hers.

it had never even been a question. the moment it came up in a long conversation spent curled up bare under the sheets of the cottage where she’d proposed, jackie knew. you had tilted your head, fingers tracing lazy patterns against her shoulder, and asked, ‘so, what do we do about names?’ she had just shrugged, as if the answer was the simplest thing in the world. ‘i’ll take yours’

and that was that. no hesitation or second thoughts, just certainty, like so many things when it came to you.

“you still like the sound of that, huh?” you tilt your head enough for her to kiss you properly.

“best decision i ever made,” jackie whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. she can feel your smile against her lips in response.

“aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for work?”

she lets her hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt. “i changed my mind…”

“oh?”

“yeah. i think i’d rather stay here,”

you hum, and your fingers move into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging just enough to make jackie sigh against your mouth.

she always knows where you need her before you do yourself, and her hands slide further up beneath the silky fabric, over warm skin, cupping all of your breasts in her palms. her teeth graze your bottom lip just enough to make you whine into her. she swallows the sound greedily, tilting her head to kiss you deeper, her fingers tightening like she wants to pull you even closer. like close will never be close enough.

just as smoothly as she works your lips apart to slip her tongue in, she hooks her hands under your thighs and lifts you onto the counter. with a startled laugh, you let her move you. jackie grins when she steps between your legs, roaming the expanse of your bare thighs.

“easy,” you tease.

jackie’s palms caress up your parted thighs, the heat of her touch leaving a trail in its wake until settling firm at your hips. she holds you there and you exhale against her, fingers slipping back into her hair, curling it in your fists.

your legs tighten around her waist, pulling her in closer until jackie swears under her breath, clearly feeling the warmth that radiates from your center. she breaks the kiss just long enough to press her forehead against yours, breathing heavy, lips agape.

“you,” she accuses with her index poking your sides. “are trying to kill me here!”

“i’m not doing anything!” you protest.

jackie scoffs, quick to steal another kiss. then another. and another, like she has all the time in the world. right when you’re sure she’s going to lose herself entirely, the kitchen timer beeps.

the eggs.

for half a second, jackie looks almost offended at the rude interruption, but then your head drops against her shoulder and your body shakes with laughter. she groans, but your laughter is contagious, and soon enough, she’s laughing too.

jackie doesn’t let go of you, blindly reaching behind herself to fumble for the stove dial until she manages to turn it off.

“you’re just going to leave them sitting there?”

she nods, lips trailing down your jaw again so her voice comes out muffled. “they’ll survive”

you wrap your arms around her shoulders whilst she kisses her way back to your mouth.

jackie’s fingers fumble with the tie of your nightgown, working it open without needing to break the kiss. years spent learning where to tug and pull to free you from your clothes are to blame, the different motions muscle memory by now.

no matter how familiar jackie is with your body, she will never not take her time savoring the sight of you: you’re not wearing anything underneath, save for a thin pair of panties, so with the way she’s pushed the gown open your chest is on full display.

“so pretty,” she purrs, already closing the distance again. her hands cup your breasts, rolling your nipples gently at the same time as she’s kissing you. jackie’s mouth wanders to the side of your throat, then further down.

there’s no longer need for claim, for desperate encounters that aim to prove something. jackie will occasionally enjoy ravishing you (sinking her teeth in your flesh until the skin between them bruises all while she’s really fucking you), but it has become this for the most part: gentle lovemaking whenever you have the chance, still unable to keep your hands off of each other.

her lips briefly graze over the valley between your breasts, then slide below your belly button as she lowers her weight to the ground in front of you. with a smile, you cup one side of her face, taking your own share of time to admire your wife.

jackie doesn’t let you have a lot of it, though: before you know it, her mouth is on the fabric of your underwear and your head falls back against the wall as she feels you up with her tongue and lips, pressing in the places she’s memorized by heart.

“is that okay?” she breathes against you, still fully clothed, but aching with want.

“mhm,” you tighten your grip and jackie, who sighs happily in response and reaches out to peel your panties off. she’s careful with it, making sure you won’t slide off the counter while she lifts one leg after the other, just to pocket the underwear once that is done.

an invitation would not be necessary, and still, you spread your legs wider, not out of urgency but trust, shame and self consciousness long outgrown.

she has seen you in every state, knows every scar, every curve, every place where time has left its mark and, still, jackie looks at you like you are the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. her hands brush over skin she’s traced a thousand times before, never with any less reverence.

you look down just in time to find jackie pressing a first kiss to your mound, her ragged breath ghosting over your soaked sex that pulses impatiently lower.

with the index and middle finger of her right hand parted, she runs them through you, spreading your labia open in awe. a breathless sound tears from your throat, aware of how easily her digits slide through your wetness.

“come on,” you urge, lifting a leg over her shoulder. easier access.

jackie complies; her lips are parted when she presses them against you, applying just the right amount of pressure. the moan you let out at the first contact is loud and ragged, echoing through the kitchen.

“right there,” you cry.

right there, not because jackie needs guidance but because you know she loves it when you’re open. loud. when you let her know that she’s making you feel good, whether it is by letting your moans slip or by praising her verbally.

the vibrations of the noise she makes in response go straight to your core, more arousal dripping for her mouth to drink up hungrily. it is coating her, slick and wet as she traces over your clit and swirls in clockwise circles.

for a while, jackie eats you out like this, getting lost in your taste just like you are in the sensations of her tongue flicking from side to side, licking broad strokes through you, then fucking into you deep.

her hair, a little longer now but still the same golden brown she’s been maintaining, clings to the thin film of sweat on her forehead in delicate strands, proof that she’s just as affected by what she’s doing to you, whilst her neatly manicured nails dig into your flesh. soft pastel pink almond shapes drag lines of red down the side of your thighs, goosebumps and shivers rising from the touch.

“you taste so good” she says softly once, then leans right back in to continuously flick your clit.

you can tell she’s toying with you, avoiding your most sensitive spots with purpose, only ever ghosting it briefly until you’re grinding yourself against her face in frustration you cannot contain. she knows exactly what you would need to get close to the edge, pretends to give it to you, then withdraws once pleasure starts building up.

“jackie,” you whine.

between your legs, she holds your gaze, reaches out and runs a hand through your folds. when she tilts her head, asking for permission silently, you immediately nod and jackie pushes forward, two fingers sinking into the heat of your cunt.

this draws the loudest moan from you yet, though you wouldn’t dare to try and stifle it.

that’s a habit you’ve long since left behind, discarded like the passed down furniture and mismatched dishes from your first apartment. then, everything had been hushed, kisses stolen behind locked doors, moans muffled into pillows. the walls were thin, the neighbors close, and the fear of being overheard turned every moment into a careful mix of restraint and want.

in the home you live in now, there are no walls to mind, no need to press a fist to your mouth to quiet yourself. here, you are free to gasp when jackie’s lips press against your clit, free to let her love you without reservation.

jackie has taken her mouth off of you to watch the way your face contorts in pleasure as she rubs the tips of her fingers against your g-spot, allowing you to see the arousal smeared across the lower half of her face, glistening beautifully in the light.

she’s moaning too, quieter and less desperate of course, but moaning all the same when she feels the way you flutter around her as though she could actually get off from this. your pleasure had always been jackie’s, too.

“good?” she rasps.

“mhm,” you lift your head from the wall behind you, watching in awe as jackie puts her tongue back to where you want it. you don’t even know what it is about jackie’s mouth but she could probably make you cum from nothing but gentle kisses if she tried, always knowing exactly where to move to coax the most pleasure from your body.

her hair curls up between your fingers when she starts sucking on your clit gently, drawing a contented hum from her mouth.

the words jackie is saying morph into muffled babbles against your cunt, her voice white noise to the pleasure that sets your nerve endings alight as she sucks, her eyes rolling back in their sockets at the taste of you.

“jackie” you gasp, your hips pushing further into her face. an unreleased tension starts building in your abdomen, making your whole body tremble wildly.

“are you close love?” jackie asks, her fingers thrusting into you at a faster pace. “it’s okay,” she sits back on her heels to look at you, her hand making up for the momentary loss of her mouth. “i got you. just let go”

your free hand reaches for hers, fingers lacing together so that she can give you one long squeeze. jackie’s mouth starts sucking your clit harsher, pushing into you deeper, making your walls clench around her fingers. the sensation is so much. it’s not nearly enough. it’s perfect, sending you over the edge in mere seconds.

with a strangled cry of jackie’s name, you cum against the feeling of her mouth on your clit and her fingers buried deep inside you. her voice feels distant as pleasure rushes through your veins.

“that’s it” jackie praises, holding you through your orgasm. “oh my god, that’s it. fuck, you’re so beautiful” she talks you through the entire height, her voice cracking whilst she watches you fall apart and come undone. she continues her licking and sucking too, until you comfortably move her head away, spent and on the verge of overstimulation.

with a wet pop, she releases your throbbing clit and presses a last kiss to your knee before rising to her feet. you’re still perched on the counter, catching your breath, warmth buzzing under your skin.

jackie reaches for the edges of your nightgown next, making quick work of pulling the fabric back together, tying it loosely at your waist. you watch her fuss over it with amusement, as if she hadn’t just spent the last several minutes undoing it in the first place. “very modest of you”

“someone’s gotta keep you decent,” she quips, a teasing smile on her lips as she slots herself back between your legs, hands settling at your waist. the kiss that follows is slow and sweet, her mouth still carrying the taste of you. jackie lingers until the soft scent of something cooking reminds you of the world beyond her touch.

your gaze flickers past her to the stove, where the eggs still sit, long forgotten. “so...you still want breakfast?”

jackie glances over her shoulder at the abandoned pan, then back at you, considering. “i mean, we did work up an appetite, huh?”

you roll your eyes, swatting at her arm playfully before slipping down from the counter. she doesn’t let you go far, her hands finding your waist again as she stands behind you, holding you close while you move around the kitchen.

[rafeslittlepup]

bunnyhousewife!reader can usually take a lot of rafes yelling , but one day shes js dealing with a lot before rafe gets home , so dinner isn’t ready , the house is a mess , shes in sweats instead of a dress , nd the kids are being loud nd throwing tantrums . nd after they get sent away she gets yelled at , nd starts crying literally 2 minutes in , nd rafe realizes she’s also has days js a long as rafe usually has , nd he stops yelling , but doesnt comfort her nd tells her it’s ok nd wtv . this is very random , so do with this ask what you will (i suggest writing it 😇) anyways bye queen

-💌

the front door slammed harder than usual, making her flinch.

she was on the kitchen floor. messy hair, stained sweatshirt, one sock half off her foot, as she wiped up spilled juice from rhett’s tantrum. jamie was crying upstairs, colton had drawn on the wallpaper, and the twins had just spent 10 minutes fighting over who got to chew on the plastic spatula.

the casserole never made it into the oven, garden roses on the table were wilted. and she hadn’t even changed out of her “ugly mom clothes.”

rafe stepped in and froze. his usual welcome home ritual. her in a ribbon-tied apron, candlelit dinner and lipstick on his cheek was nowhere to be found.

instead, he got crumbs on the floor, children crying, his wife in old sweatpants looking like a complete mess

“jesus,” he muttered. “the hell happened in here?”

and she didn’t answer, she sat back on her heels, silently clutching a half-clean paper towel.

“did you even start dinner?” he asked, walking past her into the kitchen. “why are they screaming like that? why does the house look like this?”

she blinked hard but throat tightened.

“i- rafey, i’m trying…”

“trying?” he snapped, yanking open the fridge. “you had all day. you’re home all day, and you can’t even manage the one goddamn thing I ask—?”

a shaky breath got stuck in her chest and she tried to speak but only a broken little hic came out. he paused mid-rant, still looking inside the fridge, before slowly closing it and turning to look at her.

she looked like a ghost of his bunny, her lip trembling, hair falling out of the claw clip. fingertips red from washing dishes over and over with hot water. and he didn’t say anything at first.

her voice cracked again, “i- i didn’t mean to mess it up. the twins were crying and fighting and— then rosie- i- i didn’t even get to brush my hair and then the casserole fell and— i know you like dinner when you get home, and I wanted to wear the cute dress, i just— i just couldn’t-“ she broke in tears.

it hit him then, she wasn’t just being lazy, she was overwhelmed, maxed out. his pretty little bunny had tried to hold it all together, and today it had all collapsed. she sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve, still sitting on the floor like a scolded child.

“…i’m sorry… i didn’t mean to make you mad.” she said trembling

rafe swallowed hard, he wasn’t used to seeing her cry unless he was the one comforting her. he reached for a dish towel, tossing it towards the counter without looking at her.

“…it’s fine.” he said “ i shouldn’t have yelled,” he added stiffly, rubbing his temple in that very rafe way. “it’s just- i had a long day.”

her voice was so small, he almost missed it “…so did i.”

that made him go still again. he glanced at her. soft, ruined, baby-pink bunny, her shoulders shaking as she bit back another sob.

but rafe didn’t know how to comfort gently. instead, he walked past her and turned off the oven she hadn’t used.

“i’ll order something, ‘kay?,” he muttered. “you want something?”

she shook her head no and he turned toward the hallway. “you should lie down, i’ll deal with them.”

she looked up, confused, “you will?”

“yeah.” he mumbled still not looking at her. “just for tonight.”

she just nodded, watching him walk upstairs.