#I know I sound like a cry baby but I think of these things when I’m feeling sad

[p4ranormaluv]

ive been wondering .. which enha member wants someone inexperienced and which want someone experienced? and like, if they want someone experienced would they want to take care or her or to ruin her? or if they wanted someone experienced would they want like a brat to tame or her to top them? IDK IF THIS MAKES SENSE

ENHA: EXPERIENCED VS INEXPERIENCED . ݁₊ ♱

pairing) hyung line x f!reader contents) smut, piv, org.asm control, edgi.ng, creampie, brat taming?, a little degrada.tion in hee’s, praise, overstim, switch!jake xp, squirting, corruption/innocence kink

heeseung)

experienced; based on concert/fan service clips + him saying he likes sexy over cute + my hunch that he prefers slightly older women/girls his age, i’d say experienced. nothing turns him on more than if you’re confident and know what you’re doing— even if you’re more experienced than him, he would enjoy that because you can teach him ‘new things’ ;). he’ll also really enjoy when you get a little bratty. heeseung likes when his partner knows how to be playful, he finds the sultry teasing really sexy.

dominate you / dominate him; i think heeseung’s a switch with a dom lean, so he usually prefers to be the one in control— but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy watching you test the limits, just so he can put you back in your place everytime.

“naughty— fucking— girl.” heeseung growls, punctuating every word with another merciless thrust into your aching pussy, yet to have cum as your boyfriend keeps denying you of release. “talked big shit and now you can’t even take it?” heeseung smirks, tone deep as he tries to hide how he’s losing his own breath from how long he’s been edging you, filling your sopping pussy up with his cum again and again. “that’s what baby gets when she’s a brat. you understand that now?”

jay)

inexperienced; honestly i think he’d like both, but if i had to say, it would be inexperienced. i think jay likes to feel like the main caretaker in your relationship and that translates into the bedroom too. he’d find it really cute and endearing if you didn’t know how to do something or were a little awkward. he really gets off on explaining to you how to do things, holding your hand if you get nervous and treating you like a princess.

care for you / ruin you; as i said, jay loves to make you feel loved and cared for. praising you in a sweet tone— practically baby talking you, caressing over your body in loving touches as you squirm in embarrassment and pleasure at what he’s doing to you? he’ll go crazy. (honestly i think simply praising you and watching you feel good is enough to make him cum untouched, but maybe we’ll talk about that another time.)

“you okay, sweetie?” jay asks once he’s fit all of himself inside your pussy. he can feel you clenching around him with need, and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“yes, m’good. please— please move.” you beg quietly, already so turned on as jay hovers over you, looking down at you like you’re an angel— despite the very impure position you’re in, legs bent and pushed to your chest as you take his cock. jay starts pushing in and out of you just right, his hands moving just as expertly over your perked nipples. he groans out at your cute little sounds and how your body is already quivering. “fuck, it’s— it’s never felt this good before, jay. you feel so good.”

“shit, princess. don’t talk to me like that unless you want me to go ahead and cum inside of you.”

jake)

experienced; he wouldn’t mind if you were inexperienced but he’s just so horny and that can lead to him being impatient. i also think it would just make him feel really comfortable and freeing to be with an experienced woman. he’d get really turned on by how well you know what you like and how fast you can get to know his body and what he likes too.

dominate you / dominate him; i’m on my switch!jake agenda again 🤪. he loves fucking you hard and making you cry out in pleasure, withering and gushing around his cock just as much as he loves to be on his knees begging for you.

“hah— y/n, b—baby, please! oh my god, please don’t stop fucking me!” jake whimpers and moans as he’s laid down, you on top of him and bouncing on his dick like it’s a toy— like there isn’t a boy attached to hit being pounded into the mattress with each movement.

it doesn’t take long until your both reaching your climaxes, you moving to lay beside jake and catch your breath. but the man has other plans as he flips himself over top of you and plunges his cock inside of your warm walls again. “jake? b— baby, fuck! m’sensitive.”

“one more, love. can you give me one more? god, just can’t get enough of this fuckin’ pussy, baby.”

sunghoon)

inexperienced; similar to jay, he really gets off on your lack of experience. hoon definitely has an innocence/corruption kink. and if you’re looking up at him with your trusting yet slightly nervous eyes, waiting for him to take control of the situation and your body— letting him call all the shots— holy fuck, he might bust right there.

care for you / ruin you; he’ll never do anything you don’t want or rush you of course, but with your permission he will not hesitate to absolutely wreck you. he’ll literally go crazy at the opportunity to go where no one has gone before with you, make you react in ways you never thought you could.

“hoonie, hoonie! i— something’s happening,” you struggle to explain, a foreign sensation taking over your body as your pussy builds with pressure, sunghoon continuing to fuck his impossibly huge cock into your little body. “you gonna cum for me again? i know you got it in you, baby. my slutty little angel.”

“no, no!” you cry, trying and failing to push sunghoon away as the pressure finally becomes to much and the dam breaks, squirting all over sunghoon dick and pelvis.

“holy shit…” he marvels, watching how your shaking orgasm hasn’t even ended yet as he stills, watching how it covers himself and the sheets. you almost choke on your own saliva when sunghoon starts fucking you again— even harder this time. “hoonie, can’t.”

“oh you can and you will, angel. gonna make you squirt until your pussy is drained dry.”

[giannaln4]

I'm Sorry

lando norris x fem reader

summary: A moment of frustration made Lando react the way you never thought he would, and boy, would he regret it.  (1.6k words)

warnings: angst, swearing, argument, mean lando,  fluffy ending

a/n: ok so for this, i decided to go back to Baku and put the quali result in a totally different perspective than my last fic. i guess i kinda like it but i'm not very good at describing arguments 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

ALSO i have an announcement to make and i'm really excited for it :)

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

The qualifying this weekend was an absolute mess, to say the least. Lando was hard on himself no matter the result he got. Even if it was good, he would always find something to criticise himself, but P17? Everyone was in for a treat, you thought.

The worst part is that it wasn’t even his fault; it was a stupid mistake by the marshals, and he was not to blame for it. A yellow flag interrupted his lap, and he was immediately kicked out in Q1. 

Seeing the first qualifying session being over with his name in red was not something anyone wanted to see, especially not him, and now that every point was essential, you knew it crushed him.

He came back to the garage to see the rest of the qualifying with his team, and as soon as he got out of the car, you saw how frustrated he was. You understood him, of course, it sucked that this is how the weekend was going, but you would be there for him no matter what.

Once Lando took off his helmet, he headed straight to his driver’s room, and he didn’t even look at you when he walked past. That meant he wanted to be alone, but oh silly you, you decided to follow him.

He let out a loud sight when he heard the door open and close behind him, not really in the mood to hear what you had to say. He knew for a fact you were going to tell him he did well and it wasn’t his fault, which he greatly appreciated, but right now, he just wanted to suffer in peace.

“Baby?” You called him out, just testing the waters, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed in annoyance. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but-”

“You are right, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted you, not even turning around to face you. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned into it, taking a deep breath. 

That should have been your cue to leave the small room and leave him alone, but for some reason you didn’t. “Lando, don't beat yourself up over this. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure things will be better tomorrow. We all know what you can do and you still have the race-“

“This is MY job, Y/N. I probably know better than you do,” he snapped, raising his voice and finally turning around. “This is what I’m fighting for, we all are. Do you know what’s at stake here? I finally have the chance to compete for a championship, and I just blew it.”

To say you were astonished was an understatement; this was the first time he ever snapped at you that way and you didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Every point counts, and not even starting in the top 10 tomorrow- fuck, not even top 15, there is not much I can do.” Now, he looked more mad at you than frustrated at himself, and that crushed you. “I came here to be alone for a bit, I was hoping you would at least respect that." You stayed silent, knowing a single sound would make you cry, and you didn’t want to piss him off more than he already was. “I know you are trying to help, but you are not, you can’t.”

You just stared at him, tears threatening to leave your eyes; he had never raised his voice at you in a heated moment, and it hurt like hell. You definitely should have stayed outside. 

He walked towards the door and stepped out of the room without uttering another word, leaving you alone to deal with your own feelings. 

As soon as the door was closed, you started crying. It was your own fault, really; you could always read him like a book, even today, and you knew better than to disturb him when you weren’t supposed to, but today for some reason you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. Idiot.

You tried to calm yourself down; the last thing Lando needed was to see you cry on top of his result, but it was harder than you expected. This being the first time an argument got so out of hand made you feel absolutely terrible, especially because it was your fault. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it, you knew it was his feelings talking, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

A few minutes went by and you could still hear the cars out on track, the mumbling of the team, and people constantly working out there, so you tried to use that as a distraction. Anything to take your mind off what just happened. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t help, but at least you ran out of tears, and now you were just staring at a blank wall, thinking how you could begin to apologise for earlier, if he would even give you the chance to. 

Truth is, you weren’t sure if bringing it up again would be a good idea; you wanted to apologise for disrupting his cooldown moment, but what if hearing that made him mad again? Or worse, what if you didn’t apologise and made the situation even bigger? Your spiralling made you lose track of time, and a knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“The car is about to leave, Y/N, they are waiting for you,” you heard someone say on the other side of the door. You were at least hoping Lando would come and get you once it was time to go back to the hotel, but he didn’t.

“Thanks, I will be there in a minute,” you replied, grabbing your things and Lando’s before sprinting outside. 

The car ride was hell. Lando didn’t look at you the entire time; he was just staring at his phone, texting who knows who, his face as neutral as ever. It felt longer than it actually was, and when you finally got there, he just stepped out of the car and didn’t look back. You let out a sigh and followed him, leaving a prudent distance between the two of you. 

Once you were in the hotel room, you both started to get ready for bed, like you usually did, except this time, you didn’t acknowledge each other. 

That was until you were already on your side of the bed and he came out of the bathroom, taking the spot next to you and burying his face on his phone again. The entire time you were building up the courage to say something, anything, now that you decided that apologising was the right thing to do.

“Lando?” You called for him, but again, he just hummed in response. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were right, I shouldn’t have said anything, and I should have respected that you just wanted to be alone.”

That’s when it hit him. How could he get so mad at you for trying to make him feel better? 

He dropped his phone and turned to face you, and noticing your sad expression and teary eyes broke him. His eyes softened as guilt washed over him. Why were you apologising when he was the one who reacted like that? But as soon as you looked down at your hands to avoid eye contact and tears started falling down your face again, he felt even worse. 

“Y/N… Baby, I’m so sorry.” He got closer to you, softly taking your cheeks in his hands to get you to look at him. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I acted like a dick and raised my voice at you,” he stared, wiping your tears away, carefully thinking about what else he could say. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. Your plan was to apologise and hopefully move on, but now that he was apologising, you didn’t know what to say; you didn’t want him to feel guilty, even though it was his fault you were in that position right now. If only he took a different approach. 

“It wasn’t your fault, okay? You were just trying to help, and I should have appreciated that, you know that I do, I just... I don’t know, there is no excuse for what I did.” But you were still silent and trying to avoid eye contact. “Baby, say something.” 

“Lando, you yelled at me.” You finally replied, your voice a bit muffled by your tears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again.”

After a minute of silence, you just nodded, which made him let out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Okay? I’m sorry, my love.” He pulled you into a hug, your head on his chest as he placed a soft kiss on your head. “I know I was a dick, and I really wish I was nicer about it.”

“It’s okay, I get it; you were frustrated with your result, and I should’ve known better than to interfere with what you were feeling.”

“No, it’s not okay. I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Lando was rubbing your back softly, trying to bring you the comfort you tried to give him earlier. “I love you, and I can’t describe how much I appreciate everything you do for me; I know having to deal with my shit is not easy, so thank you.”

“It’s fine, I mean it.” You looked up at him, locking eyes finally in the entire day. “Just... don’t push me away, okay? And if you do need to be alone, just say it, and I promise I will listen next time.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

He gently placed a hand on your check, rubbing small circles before leaning in for a kiss, one both of you much needed. And with one final ‘I love you’, you feel asleep in his arms.

[simjaexy]

★ 𝙀𝙣𝙝𝙖 𝙃𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙭 (𝙁) 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ★

౨ৎ why fight when we can just fuck?

warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!!!, lowercase intended, crying, arguments, eating out (jay), shower sex (jake), cursing, dom! heeseung x sub! reader, hair gripping (sunghoon), overstimulation (jay), mean dom! sunghoon x sub brat! reader, blowjobs (sunghoon), rough sex, jealousy (sunghoon)

genre ⇀ pure smut, little angst

w.c ⇀ 980

a/n ⇀ sorry for not posting for awhile but i made a drabble of the hyung line! i’m planning on making a heeseung fic soon so stay tuned for that :) i hope you enjoy so please reblog, comment, like, etc! not proofread!

౨ৎ you and heeseung had a disagreement over something trivial, but it escalated quickly. the tension was palpable, and you both ended up saying things you didn't mean.

later that evening, heeseung knocked on your door, his face filled with regret. "i'm really sorry," he said softly. "i didn't mean to hurt you.” he noticed your silence and held your hand, “i think i know what to do to make you forgive me.” was all he said before shutting the door behind him.

“h-hee!” you cried out when you felt his girth dick hitting the right spots that made your eyes roll back. heeseung groaned feeling you clench around him. he pinned both of your arms down on the bed and nibbled at your neck causing you to jerk at the sensation.

“fuck you feel so tight. wanna fuck this pussy all day. would you let me baby?” he whispered in your ear. you nodded your head feeling your climax finally coming.

“fuck hee i’m cumming!” you moaned. he slapped your ass watching it jiggle. a smirk never falling off his face.

“fuck go head and cream on this dick.” he spoke. that was all you needed before your orgasm came over you. heeseung slowed down and soon he came too.

“i’m sorry baby for having that stupid argument. i love you.” heeseung mumbled, rubbing his face in your neck. you giggled and kissed his cheek.

“it’s okay hee, i forgive you.”

౨ৎ you and jay had a heated argument about his busy schedule. you felt neglected, and he felt misunderstood. after cooling off, jay came to you with a sincere expression.

"i'm sorry for not considering your feelings," he admitted. "i promise to make more time for us."

he cupped your face when he saw a few tears streaming down, “it really hurts jay.”

he kissed your cheek, “how about i make it up to you now?”

“oh god seongie!” you cried out, feeling his tongue lick your bud. he groaned when you gripped his hair. he continued nibbling and licking your bud, the sweet taste of you making him feel crazy.

your back arched and jerked when he suddenly licked your folds, “seongie too much!” you whined.

“mhm.” was all jay said. he dipped his tongue in your hole and swirled it around causing your eyes to roll back. you felt your orgasm coming and locked your legs around jays head.

“s-seongie im cumming! please!” you whimpered. seongie looked up at you, his intense hazed lustful gaze staring at you caused you to finally cum. you groaned when he still continued to lick up all your sweet taste.

“n-no. no more.” you rasped out. jay finally let go of your pussy and licked his lips. you saw him starting to unbuckled his belt.

“i don’t think i’m gonna stop anytime soon darling. i’m gonna make it up to you.”

౨ৎ you and jake had a disagreement about a decision he made without consulting you. feeling hurt, you distanced yourself. jake noticed and came to you, looking genuinely sorry.

"i didn't mean to make you feel left out," he said. "i should have talked to you first. i'm really sorry.”

you nodded your head, still feeling a bit upset. jake noticed your same expression and rubbed your hip, “how about we wash these negativities away?”

“fuck jake!” you squealed out. the sound of loud skin slapping and moans filling up the steamy bathroom.

jake threw his head back feeling your clench around him. the steamy water making him feel even more hot.

“yeah? you like that? wanna fuck you so good.” he moaned. you frantically nodded your head. you would’ve been on the ground if it weren’t for jake holding your hips in place.

“pussy feels so good. does my princess feel good?” he slurred out. you felt your orgasm coming after hearing his dirty words. the only thing you could do was nod your head.

“g-gonna cum. cumming!” you gasped. that’s when you felt your legs shaking with you pussy throbbing around jake’s dick. jake came right then and there.

“m’sorry princess. i love you.” he said.

you hummed, still tired, “i love you too jake.”

౨ৎ you and sunghoon had an argument about a misunderstanding that spiraled out of control. both of you were stubborn, but sunghoon eventually approached you with a apology.

"i'm sorry for being so stubborn," he confessed. "i value our relationship too much to let this come between us."

you rolled your eyes, “should have though bout that before flirting with that waitress.” you mumbled.

sunghoon sighed, knowing you weren’t gonna let it down. instead of saying anything, sunghoon grabbed your wrist and took you guys to your bedroom.

“fuck just like that kitten.” he groaned. you moaned around his dick, feeling it throb in your mouth. the noise of your slobber and his precum around his dick turning you on more. your pussy wet with slick. sunghoon gripped your hair when he felt you hollow your cheeks.

“ah~ fuck! that’s right kitten, such a good kitten.” he purred out. you felt tears gathering around your eyes when he started pushing his dick deeper into your mouth.

sunghoon felt your hand tapping against his thigh, but that didn’t stop him. if you were gonna have attitude after his apology, he’ll find a way to make you shut up.

he felt his orgasm coming and lolled his head back, “shit gonna cum.” he said. that’s when he let go of your hair making you lick around his tip, wanting to taste his cum in your mouth.

feeling your wet tongue licking his tip made him jerk forward and that’s when he finally came in your mouth. you swallowed every bit of it and hummed in content.

sunghoon rubbed your jaw, “don’t complain about being jealous when your the only one that can make me cum like this.”

[the-goo-goo-muck]

NOW PLAYING

BREAKFAST, LUNCH, & DINNER

Starring: Choso Kamo, Kento Nanami, Kiyotaka Ijichi, Sukuna Ryomen, Toji Fushiguro

Warnings! oral (f receiving), overstimulation, praise, face-sitting, fingering, male masturbation, ass-play, degradation

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Choso Kamo: Determined <3

Choso maybe does a little bit too much research. He’s heard that some women don’t necessarily like getting head as much as other things. He can’t fathom this because you sucking his dick is about the most pleasurable thing he can think of besides being stuffed inside your cunt. Regardless, he wants to do his very best to make sure this is as pleasurable for you as it is for him; he’s just so concerned he’ll do a bad job. & it makes no difference how much you assure him that “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, sweetie,” & that even if he does do a bad job, you won’t be upset. No, that only encourages him that he needs to make this as good as possible. So when he finally makes up his mind, he’ll let you know as straightforward as usual, probably a text that has you choking on your coffee at 10:00am: “I want to eat you out tonight Y/N.” Straight to the point, as usual. & of course you’re excited, but a swirl of nervousness begins coiling in your stomach. Last time he had his head between your thighs, he was there for hours. 

He doesn’t like it when you talk, especially coherently, that means he’s not doing his job. “Faster? But when I go faster with my cock you cry. . .” “It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?” “Shhh, s’okay, know you can cum for me again, pretty girl, don’t you wanna cum? I love it when you cum on my tongue, just for me.”

He tries to praise you, mimic the sweet things you say to him when you’re jerking him off or riding his cock, but he’s almost as fucked out as you are, & the praise never seems to sound as good spilling from his lips as it does from yours—at least, that’s what he thinks. But his soft spoken, sweet words cause your cunt to pulse against his tongue, so he tries for you anyways; tries anything, because if it gets you off, makes you feel even a fraction as good as you make him feel, he’s more than willing to do it!

He’s the type to eat you out until he loses track of time, cumming in his own pants once or twice, he doesn’t even need to put his cock in you. & it isn’t until you’re cross-eyed, sweaty, voice hoarse, & crying for him that he even considers stopping. “Did it feel good?” If you had any energy, you’d smack him upside the head. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Kento Nanami: Generous <3

If you were to ask Nanami what his favorite thing to do in bed was, it would be–hands-down, without a doubt, easily—eating you out. Of course, he’s a service top until the day he dies, but it’s more than that; he genuinely derives pleasure from making you feel good. After a long day of work, he comes home exhausted, bags under his eyes, muscles sore, & you’re thinking what you could do to make him feel better: a nice shower, a massage, & maybe—if he’d let you—sucking his dick. You’re pretty pleased with yourself about this little plan until you’ve got him in the bedroom, heading to the bathroom to turn on the shower & he’s tugging on your arm, pulling you down on the bed & wordlessly working off your pants. 

“Kento? Don’t you wanna shower first?” 

He shakes his head, “need to taste you, sweetheart, need it.” 

He hooks his arms under your knees, pulling your legs up & over his broad shoulders, making himself comfortable, in for the long haul.

His favorite is when you’ve sat down on him, hands gripping the headboard, mindlessly grinding against his face, chasing your own pleasure, head empty.  You feel bad sometimes, sitting on his face, or grinding your cunt against him, squeezing your thighs around his head, pulling his hair, but if anything, this adds to his enjoyment of it. He could sit with his head between your legs for as long as you’ll let him, & you always let him because he’s just so damn good at it; you don’t have to tell him what you want, what you need, because he already knows. 

He sticks his tongue into your tight hole, relishing, moaning at the way it spasms around it, working a finger in alongside it, curling it up to that special spot that has you throwing your head back & whining his name. Sucking on your clit, almost meanly because he knows, he knows, how overstimulated you are, how it hurts so good. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Kiyotaka Ijichi: Desperate <3

“You-you taste so good, pretty girl, s’good, please, n-no, don’t gotta run from it,” he whines as you attempt to rock your hips up off the bed, obviously grinding his hips onto the bed, hoping you won’t notice. He’s just so eager, he needs you to cum against his face just one more time. He’s whining like a poor puppy when you pull on his hair. Pathetic moans fill the air, & you’re losing it because there’s no technique, no method to the madness, just pure, sheer, utter desperation. & he’s apologizing into your soaking cunt as he ruts into the bed through his orgasm, potentially gaining more pleasure from this than you. It was always so easy to make Kiyotaka feel good, just your moans of “more, more, so good, Kiyo” had him whining into your pussy, palming his sore dick through his boxers. 

What he lacks in skill, he makes up for in eagerness; eager is the perfect word for the way Kiyotaka eats you, tongue lying flat over & over on your slit, tongue slipping in & out of your puckering hole, thumb circling your clit constantly, overwhelming your poor cunt. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Sukuna Ryomen: Aloof <3

It was rare that Sukuna ate you out, not because he doesn’t like it, don’t get it twisted, but it’s so vulnerable of him, & he can’t fully control himself when he’s between your legs. He’s contrastingly gently, savoring every inch of you, alternating between sucking on your thighs, teasing you to no end, & assaulting your clit with his tongue & his fingers. He loves to have your hips in his hands, manhandling you how he wants, fingertips leaving bruises on your waist, growling when you whine out, “w-wait ‘Kuna, s’too much,” because “Isn’t this what you wanted in the first place?” 

Maybe you had wanted this, but you hadn’t expected him to go on for so long. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d seen Sukuna have any form of patience, barely even prepping you before bullying his cocks into you, but here he was, taking his time with you, not even worried about his own pleasure, too enchanted by your honeyed pussy, just begging for him. 

He’ll never tell you this, but his favorite time to eat you out is when you’re on your period; he’ll disguise it by saying that it makes your scent stronger, but really he just wants to ease your pain & make you feel better.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Toji Fushiguro: Rug Muncher <3

God, he’s an asshole. Don’t get it wrong, he loves eating that sweet cunt of yours, but he also loves nothing more than teasing you. He’s got you on your knees, upper body resting on the sheets, pressing the chastest of kisses on your thighs, your folds, hands slowly gripping your ass, spreading it open for him, swirling his tongue around your puckered hole just above your pussy, pushing a finger in even though he knows you’re cunt is aching for him. He’ll get there. . .eventually. 

“Nghh—n-no, Toji, n-not there,” you whine, trying to pull away from his finger, but he just pushes it in deeper. 

“Not there? Where d’ya want in then, princess?” & fuck it, he knows where you want it, but he just can’t get over how perfect you are like this: needy, desperate, unabashed. You’re not afraid to beg for what you want. But he doesn’t give you time to ask. “You sure you aren’t just pretending not to like it? ‘Cause your pussy clenches every time I put my finger in here.” He laughs meanly, but then he’s sticking his tongue in your pussy, licking fat stripes front to back, spitting on it, shaking his head all up in it. Toji likes it when you give him messy head, & so of course he likes to return the favor.

You’re reaching down to rub your clit while he’s taking his sweet time getting you off & then he’s swatting your hand away because you’re gonna take what he gives you or get nothing at all.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

no, your honor, i don't believe in writing ooc headcanons. . .

LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3

[wayrad]

hiii number 15 on that prompt list would be delicious if u fancy it

omgosh yes anything for you legend <3

for prompt 15: “this is going to hurt, okay?”

Usually John’s the rash one, the on who jumps in over his head, doesn’t think things through. Prefers it that way, too; if he’s going off the deep end at least he knows Gale will be there to reign him back in. Get a hand on his nape and tell him knock it off, Bucky, always in that tone of voice that John needs.

That’s not how it happened today. Today, just another tick on the wall, and Gale woke up on the edge. He goes non-verbal, somedays, has got a storm brewing in him, and no seems to notice it but John. He knew today was a bad one, and not just for Gale; the Luftwaffe officers feel it too. The edge, like a knife licking up the spine. They hold their rifles a little higher, the chains on their dogs a little looser.

Gale had been so quiet. He’d never been the one they watch, especially not on days like these, but. But.

And John should’ve known. Should’ve.

Now, perspiration gathers on Gale’s severe brow bone. He looks pasty as a ghost, sounds like one too; the air in his lungs is rattling about like it’s slipping through the cracks of him. He looks drunk- but that’d be a mercy in here.

“Gale,” John says, tries, for what seems like the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes. “Gale, baby. Baby can you hear me?”

The pain’s making him delirious. He’s in shock, too, up to his head in it, shivering, muttering all incoherent. And John hasn’t been able to look at it, not for long- Gale's sleeve, pulled up, what’s waiting there for them. It’s still in the shape of a mouth, like the mutt was still hanging onto Gale’s tattered flesh, yanking, pulling as the German officer just watched and let it all happen.

John had ordered every man to stay out. He’d— handle it. He’d take care of Gale.

“I’m going to get your shirt open, okay?” he says slowly, taking the ruddied fabric between his fingers. When he shifts it experimentally Gale’s chest heaves, a wet sob breaking apart from his lips. It’s the loudest he’s been all day, loudest he's been since the bite took him.

John takes Gale's shoulders, hopes it's soothing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he lulls. "Ain't no doctors around, not yet. Just me. I'm doing the best I can, huh?"

To that, Gale says nothing. Just clutches at his shoulder like he's trying to keep his arm attached to his body. John gives up on getting Gale's shirt off the right way; he finds little dull scissors the guys use to cut out pinups and takes the sleeve right from the seam. Warm clothes are hard to come by, and Gale would say as much, if he could.

Without the fabric to cover the gash, John's faced with the gravity of their situation. Puncture wounds litter the purpling skin of Gale's forearm, blood tacked and dripping across his wrist. There are chunks of skin missing. Around it, a mottled bruise blooms purple and green over the entire thing, makes John think it really could fall off.

"Jesus," he mutters. They've got nothing to clean it with, nothing proper, but- and that's an idea. John cups Gale's jaw. "Hey. I'm not leaving, okay?" he says. Gale shivers against him. His skin is clammy and too-hot, but he nods, and that's something.

John makes across the room, below his bunk, to where a jar of contraband liquor is stashed next to the notebook he was able to scrounge up a couple weeks ago.

This isn't exactly the special occasion he'd been saving it for.

Rounding up on Gale again, John smooths his sweat-stringy hair from his forehead. "Gale," he says. "This is going to hurt, okay?"

Gale flashes John his eyes- blue and full of pain- and John almost can't do it. Almost.

He unscrews the cap and tips, takes Gale's wrist when he jerks, crying out in pain. Forces it down. He holds Gale's arm and doesn't stop pouring until he runs through the entire jar. "Shh," he says, and it isn't enough, nothing could be enough. "Shh, Buck, it's okay."

Gale's body kicks against his chair. Slumps, eyes shutting. He's hasn't got enough fight left in him to break John's grip: he isn't eating, isn't sleeping, and now this. John's never seen him like this before. Not once in his life.

"Did good, Gale, huh?" John says. Presses his lips to the fire-hot skin of his forehead, slumping too. "Did good."

[peppymintdreams]

What If Luca Didn’t Go to the Party

This is my first ever Zsakuva Fanfic so bear with me on this 🙏🏿

masterlist

It was a late Saturday evening. Luca was lying in his dorm room, staring at the ceiling and feeling empty. He had finished all he needed to do, and all that was left was to relax. He had been invited to a party but didn’t feel like going. What would he even do at a party? It came as a shock when someone actually invited him; it must’ve been a joke to get a reaction out of him—who knows? The night was quiet, aside from the occasional ventilation turning on and off, the faint sounds of upbeat music echoing across the campus, and moans of couples haunting the hallways. Here he was, alone in his bed.

Deciding to make a stand, he put on his nice clothes and headed for the door, determined to make his presence known at the university. But when his hand touched the door, something changed. Visions of doubt, insecurities, and the years of bullying he’d endured flooded his mind. He wanted to be strong; he wanted to try something new, but the pain was just too much to handle. What was he to do—stay home and let his insecurities and doubts win, or let himself be free? It took everything in his power to keep his hand on the doorknob and turn it fully. He was almost there, the door beginning to open, his vision starting to blur. It felt like time was running out if he didn’t make a decision. In the end… he shut the door and locked it.

“Weak,” that’s all he could hear in his head. A weak person, he thought. He lay down on the sofa, turned the TV on, and watched whatever was playing, tears streaming down his face. What was he to become if he couldn’t even muster up the courage to just be a person?

His phone lit up with a notification from his mom. She was his safe place, the person he could turn to whenever something went wrong and he didn’t know the answer. He called her and waited as the line buzzed. “Hello,” she said, her voice like a cloud—so soft and welcoming.

“Mom, I—” he stuttered, tears rolling down his face.

“Hey, honey!” she spoke with excitement; just getting a call from her son made her day, judging by the silence and occasional weeping on the other line. “What’s wrong, baby?” Anytime Luca was sad or upset, his parents were there for him, no matter what giant missile life threw at him.

“Mom, I don’t know what to do,” he began to cry, his voice cracking, He had explained to her about his invite to the party and what just happened and the meltdown he had.

“Aww, baby, it’s okay to not know the answer.” Hearing his mom understand him relaxed him, calming his breath. “Sweetheart, I understand how you’re feeling. It’s completely normal to be scared about going to a party, especially when you’re unsure of what to expect. Remember, it’s okay to feel nervous.”

His breath hitched; he began to hiccup. “Maybe you could talk to a friend who’s going and see how they feel about it?” Thinking about what she said, he realized he didn’t really have any friends in university or anywhere in London. So, what was the next best option?

“Think about what you might enjoy about the party—like meeting new people or having fun with friends. If you decide to go, just be yourself. And if you feel uncomfortable at any point, it’s okay to leave. Your feelings matter, and I’m here to support you, no matter what you choose.”

He began to calm down. Just a couple of minutes ago, it felt like the weight of the world was crashing down on him, but hearing his mother’s voice was enough to wash away everything. He wanted to change the topic to avoid the emotional roller coaster he had just thrown at her, but then he heard a door open and a heavy grunt—Luca’s dad was home.

“I have to go, Luca; your father just got back from the store. But we can talk tomorrow. Does that sound good?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Luca replied. There was nothing more he enjoyed than unwinding with his mother; she always had the right answer.

“Mom, I do have one more thing to say.” There was something that had been bothering him lately, and he needed the answer to free his mind. “Can it wait until tomorrow, dear? Your father appears to be struggling.” Disappointed, he reluctantly agreed.

“Of course, Mom,” he said sadly. Judging by his tone, his mom could tell he wanted to talk but couldn’t stop himself from waiting. His father did have a bad back.

“Well, okay. I have to go. Mommy and Daddy love you very much, Luca. Kisses,” she said.

“I love you too, Mom.” She hung up as soon as he responded; she was in a rush. He understood his parents had their own lives, but they always made time for him.

Turning off his phone, Luca made up his mind. Grabbing his laptop that was still on the coffee table, he looked for available flights home after his graduation. There was no one he had to stay with; he didn’t have friends here, and he wasn’t in a relationship this town wouldn’t miss him. Luca let out a heavy breath and flipped through the channels, trying to relax. “I’m here,” he thought. He felt comfortable. Soon, in the next few months, he’d be home—there’s no place like home.

Not more than a couple of miles away, a lonely person stood next to a table full of drinks. They seemed dazed and confused. “Ayo ___, come and dance with me,” a friend said. Looking at them, they replied, “Meh, I don’t know.”

Their friend looked at them, concerned. “Yo ___, you alright? You seem troubled.” They were troubled; something didn’t feel right. He took their hand, wrapping his other arm around their waist, twirling them to him. Nothing else mattered but having ___ someone he longed to hold in his arms, someone he was now face to face with, just a few inches apart.

“I don’t know; I just have a weird feeling,” they said, backing up and looking around.

“Feeling? Like what?” he asked.

“Like someone was supposed to be here…”

[apathyfairy]

last year i found a wii at goodwill for 25 dollars and it came with everything except a wiimote but it was in such good condition i was like hell yeah ill take it how hard can it be to find a wiimote. the answer is it's nearly impossible to find them at thrift stores now so i've spent like 8 months looking for ones in thrift stores but there wasn't a single one and then online but i just couldn't bring myself to spend 30 dollars on one single wiimote so i waited so. patiently. and then 2 weeks ago i finally found one at goodwill for 9 dollars but it was absolutely disgusting and the battery cover was missing and the compartment was all corroded so i put it back and regretted it the whole week but then this last weekend i went to savers and there was an absolutely perfect wiimote just sitting there with no corrosion and a jacket and the wrist strap and motion plus and the nunchuck was there too and i got it all for 10 dollars so the moral of the story is that sometimes things seem right for you in the moment but you have to recognize that they aren't and leave them behind so the things that are meant for you will in fact find you when the time is right. peace and love <3

[wulfhalls]

.

[whereismyhat5678]

I don’t remember.

I don’t know what exactly happened.

I heard loud noises I think.

I don’t know what they were but they hurt my ears.

But then I heard a voice. I liked it. It was calmer. My ears felt like they were ringing, and he softened them for me. I don’t remember his face though…. But I think I remember what he said?….

Tw: There is no blood but I want to put it here anyways if anyone doesn’t like to see characters with a shit ton of bandages. (Just to be safe 🩶)

My body hurts…

[todayisafridaynight]

not to make people believe in me and my work ethic but im lowkey a liiiitttttleeee stoked to share the fics ive been cookin lately..

[seithr]

Randomly remembered the half-reason i call my oc-verse by the name it has while laying in bed. One-half of the reason i still knew, but I had forgotten what had truly, really cemented it jointly until now

(it was a song from my favourite band I haven't listened to in a while.)

(the song fit so well at the time, still does, that i needed to hold onto it for the main protagonists forever, by partially naming their story in reference.)

Does this explanation make any sense? Does anyone know why I'm tearing up remembering this. Aahh

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[ickadori]

i think yuji has a thing for spoiled, bratty girls. the ones with borderline bad attitudes, who roll their eyes more than they smile, and scowl and huff when things don’t go their way.

sure, it can be annoying sometimes, but you’re never like that for long, not with him at least. you try, but all he has to do is wrap those steel arms around you and gush about how pretty you are, how he loves you so much, how much he missed seeing you and then you’re like putty in his hands.

you’re sweet, bashful, doting, clingy, glued to his side and rubbing yourself against him like some baby kitten. it’s cute, you’re cute, and he’s head over heels for you.

but like all things, that doesn’t last long either. your moods are fickle, changing at the drop of a hat, and your little outbursts can be explosive, sometimes offensive. yuji usually lets you get your frustrations out, lets you rant and rave while he sits and listens, and then when you’re all tuckered out he’s dragging you into his embrace and whispering comforting words into your skin followed by sweet kisses.

sukuna always tells him how soft he is when he does that - she’ll never respect you if you keep letting her off like that, he says. put her in her fucking place, he hisses. back in my era, the only time a woman opened her mouth around me was to suck my cock, he reminisces.

but yuji isn’t like sukuna, he doesn’t need to do those things to get you back how he likes you most, sweet and soft and eager for his love..but sometimes you really try his patience, so he figured he could do something, nothing close to the cruel things sukuna had suggested, but something to let you know that you couldn’t just do and say whatever you wanted all the time.

he figured he’d take something away from you, like you’d do with a misbehaving child, something that you loved and couldn’t get enough of, no matter how much he gave it to you.

his cock, obviously.

“yuji!” he’s had you like this for a while, your stomach flush against his bedroom wall as he forces you to stand while he squats behind you. you’re dressed in a little skirt and an equally as little top, no panties in sight. the skirt is hiked up around your hips, and he swallows past the lump in his throat as he thrusts the pink dildo into your drooling cunt once again, his ears twitching at the lewd squelch that sounds.

your thighs tremble, knees buckling, and he lets his free hand come down against your ass, his lips soothing the sting after when you let out a whimper. “m’sorry,” he mumbles against your skin, “but you have to stand up straight for me, baby.”

“mm-nn,” you shake your head, and yuji tsks, wrist pulling back to slide the dildo out until only the top remains, and then he’s quickly slamming back in, lips still peppering kisses along the curve of your ass. “ah! i want you, yuji. i wanna feel you..”

“you don’t get my cock until you start being nice to me.” he builds up a steady pace, his breathing ragged as he listens to the squelching coming from your cunt. needing to see it and not just hear it, he pulls his head back, marveling at the way your pussy grips onto the silicone, your slick coating the shaft along with his fingers. “such a pretty pussy for such a mean girl.”

“s-shut up!” he sees you clench, feels the resistance when he goes to push the silicone cock back into you, and he practically salivates as he watches a fresh wave of slick ooze down the shaft.

“see? so mean to me… i shouldn’t play with your pussy at all.” he slips the dildo out of you, jaw going slack as he watches your hole clench around nothing, your desperate protests and pleas falling on death ears. there’s a string of your arousal dripping down between your trembling thighs, and yuji swipes it up with his finger before pushing it into his mouth, lashes fluttering as he groans around the digit.

“please, yuji, m’sorry! i-i’ll be nice, i promise!” you plead and cry, and yuji knows you’re only thinking with your pussy right now, that overwhelming urge to come clouding your mind. you’ll be fussing at him by the end of the night if he gives in, he’s sure of it, but he’s not a mean man. how’s he supposed to tell you no when you beg for him like that? when your pussy weeps for him like this?

he can’t.

it only takes a second for him to free his own cock from his pants, replacing the dildo with the real thing, and he moans loud and guttural when he slips inside, your hot cunt wrapping around him like a vice. “fuck, baby.” his pelvis grinds into the fat of your ass, his hands pinning yours against the wall above your head as he thrusts in and out of you. “you feel so good.”

“yuji,” you keen, and he knows you and your body well enough to know that you’re milliseconds away from coming.

“you gonna come?” he breathes in your ear, low and raspy, and you weakly nod, his name leaving your lips like a chant, and the muscles in his thighs and calves flex as he bends at the knee to fuck you at a slightly different angle, tip of his cock pushing into that spot that always leaves you a babbling, sniffling mess. “go ahead and come, baby. make a mess.”

that’s all the encouragement you need before you’re creaming around his cock, pussy clenching and fluttering around him as declarations of love tumble free from your lips, and he wonders how long it’ll take for you to change your tune this time.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, omegaverse, forced bonding is implied, subjugation, some type of sexism, soft dom, but extremely patronizing

♡ fem reader

You offer to go down on him for the first time since he claimed you for himself, and his heart swells with all sorts of bliss—shock and awe, love and pride—utterly overjoyed at the pretty sight of you, so pliant and on your knees, acting like a proper Omega for a change—his cutest little mate. It’s so adorable he ought to take pictures, yet he doesn’t want to miss a thing or spoil the mood—after all, you always get so embarrassed when he brings the camera out.

So he settles for just watching—his adoring eyes resting on you, admiring how you struggle to fit all of him inside your mouth, thinking it’s the just cutest and sweetest how you try so hard for him. Bless whatever brought this new change of behavior on. He can’t be grateful enough.

It was only a couple of days ago when you’d still bite and claw and run away from him at every turn, growling and snarling like a rabid wildling and not the sweet Omega he knew you could be with the proper love and care. Maybe it’s just that—has his love for you finally tamed you? Oh, he couldn’t be more pleased if that’s it.

Look at you… trying your very best. He didn’t mind if you could only fit half of him—just seeing you try to take it all made him more than happy. The way your pink tongue slides along his veins—all teasingly and ticklish—makes him smile while looking down at you. Petting your head in smooth, encouraging strokes—reminding you to breathe every now and again.

He even pinches your cheek when you cough, crooning, “Careful now, there’s no need to rush, baby—take it slow.”

You curse him from where you kneel at his feet, trying to get it over with quickly. Despite your struggles, he seems pleased, and you think you might have managed to get yourself off the hook. That is… until he wraps his cock with one of his big hands and pulls it away from you. 

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says in his best attempt at sounding suave by nature, and yet, as you look up at him, you see it plain as day.

It makes your guts fold—the eagerness that encompasses him as he looks down at you with kind eyes and a smile—not completely able to hide the frenzy behind it.

No, please, you sulk inwardly—your clit is so sensitive from yesterday, you think you might die if he toys with it again today. You almost indulge the urge to scoot back, attempt to crawl away, and hide in false hope. But you know, chasing you around would just serve as kindling to his inner animal—he would take it as a game, hunting and pinning you down only to lick you clean like a dug-up bone.

You shudder at the thought and almost beg him to allow you to continue, almost insist you can do better, but all you manage is to bite your tongue and cry instead.

“You did so good, baby, don’t pout,” he coos, cradling your face and lifting it up to let him kiss it silly—chastely yet excessively—quick pecks all over, the same way you’d kiss something that’s just too cute for its own good.

It’s his way of comforting you, you suppose, or it might just be him poking fun. You can never really tell with him—if his coddling is all some act or something even more unsettling. But you suppose it doesn’t really matter either.

“Come here, baby, and I’ll do the rest, okay?” he asks, and yet it isn’t a question as he hauls you up off the floor and repositions you as he sees fit—on your back, belly-up beneath him.

His alpha pheromones are quick to overwhelm you, thick and suffocating, pouring over you in waves, drenching you in sweat and something else—something that makes everything sensitive.

The former fight you had when you were still independent has all but left you completely—siphoned from your being every day that’s passed and left you soft like the rest of those Omegas you vowed you’d never become—weak-willed with a body even more so. You feel like a stuffed animal at this point, full of cloudy cotton with a broken voice device that only knows how to squeak when played with.

He takes you beneath the knees and folds them down neatly by your head—one large hand taking both your summoned ankles in a single grip—and you’re locked in, unable to do much else other than pant—kept from breathing too much by the weight of your own thighs pressing down on you.

This had been what you were trying to avoid—this awful position which he seems to love just as much as you dread.

He whistles in awe at the pretty sight of you—all squished beneath him like that—face flushed, and your bloated lips parted with cute little draws of breath—tits bunched together, glossed in a sheen of sweat and heaving with the labored rise and fall of your chest—and that adorable cunt, wet and puffy, swollen up like a pink pillow eagerly waiting for him, a soft bed for his cock and a perfectly bite-sized slice of his favorite cake. His gut rumbles, and his mouth soaks. To think he hasn’t had a single taste all day—he’s beyond starving.

You squirm under him, and he chuckles again, this time breathily—showing more of the unsightly animal with the low growl that seeps into his voice, “Such a pretty girl…” It’s unclear if he’s talking to you as his inkwell eyes are set on something else. He sags forward, back hunched as he bows down to face the object of his desire with only a hair’s breadth of separation—breaths thick, puffed hot against you—canines bared in an eerie smile. “So shy…”

He ignores your wiggling completely—pinching the chunk of cunt where your clit hides, making it peak forth like a little button to press, and his grin broadens.

“There it is,” he licks his teeth with a raspy sigh—eyes wide and deadset. “My beauty.”

You squirm a little more, even though you know you’re not going anywhere until he’s satisfied. He doesn’t waste much more time—not allowing you to prepare. Keeping the pinch, he opens his mouth wide and takes the chub with eyes closed, tongue flattened and wide, cloaking your exposed clit with thirst. “Mmgh…”

He always gets like this—cute-aggressive and pussy-whipped. It’s as if he and your cunt have their own private affair, the way he completely ignores you. No, that’s not entirely fair—he gets like that when feeding you his tongue as well, but you suppose it’s easier making out with your pussy as it doesn’t need to get up for air. 

Neither does he, it seems.

He groans loudly and releases your clit from his pinching grip—but keeps his whole mouth on you—lips, tongue, and all—nose and chin too, buried there while his hand moves down to slip three digits inside, filling you up with little regard to the stretch.

Your breath flares and shudders with a whimpery moan, toes curling along with his fingers, biting your lip at how he hooks them right into the soft spot of your gummy walls, then fingerbangs you fast, right down to the knuckles each time.

“Fuck, baby—so, so good, always so good,” he slurs out into you, tongue otherwise too engaged to bother sounding coherent, yet you understand nonetheless, even though you can never really get used to it—how utterly unashamed he is. “Come on, baby, cum f’mo—cum on my face—” he all but happily begs, tongue out, slurping your slit brazenly.

He’s not a very classic Alpha—how he worships you on his hands and knees with a throat full of plead and praise. He doesn’t even touch himself—cock left hung and bobbing against the bedsheets, hard and strung up with a net of veins, pilling pearls of pre that all go to waste—too busy with you. 

It’s stupid how you’re the one who ends up feeling ignored as the unwanted and overwhelming pleasure manhandles you into submission.

“Cum, baby, give it to me.”

You mewl as his tongue draws something out from within you, making your clit blare and thrum with your heartbeat. You struggle to enjoy it, you always do, feeling forced to surrender, and yet the more you try and deny it, the firmer his hold gets, relentless as he sends you right over the edge. You yelp and seize up once it takes you—clenching tightly around his digits as they unknot your insides, turning you into utter putty in his palm. 

And even then, he doesn’t stop—as if he doesn’t know how—sighing with elation as you quake on his tongue. That crooked smile on his face, nothing short of predatory and vile as he maintains the motion of his fingers, moaning in turn at your cute spasming and all the wordless babble that leaves your lips as you shake your head, crying for him to leave it alone. “Plea’ no more—stop, too much—”

He just chuckles against you—you really are too cute for your own good. Silly little Omega, don’t you know what your pheromones do to him? But okay, fine, since you asked nicely. He gives the slit one last thorough lick before wiping his smile while sitting up.

You haven’t even started coming down when he dabs the weight of his shaft upon the sensitivity, cooing at the lewd little plaps it makes, all slick as he slides the length between your flustered pussylips—fucking through the fat of the mound, running over your full clit, again and again, while listening to you squeak more nothings.

He only croons, “Yeah, I know you like that, baby—this pretty pussy of yours just loves my attention, doesn’t it?" His eyes seem to glow with something sickly, his voice thin, just shy of unhinged. "Always so cute, I could die.”

He can’t get over it—you’re too adorable like this. Watching you pleasure him was a welcome surprise, but ultimately, this is how he always wants you—flipped and pinned with your cunt exposed to his every wish—his favorite toy that never disappoints.

“Your pretty pussy’s always such a crybaby, y’know that? Look how it weeps f’mo—so needy to get stuffed. I bet you want my knot, huh?” he keeps mumbling while using his cock to play with your overworked cunt without yet entering it. “Alright, baby—don’t worry—I’ll give it to you,” he rasps, drooling.

You can’t keep from whimpering when the bed jostles, accounting for his repositioning as he moves to mount you with his feet planted down flat on the bed. Your ankles are pinned passed your head at this point, tipping your cunt up higher than your head.

“Yeah—I’ll give you what you want.” His voice darkens, and so does the look in his eyes—soaked in something you don’t like—something wild and downright terrifying. “And I’ll give it to you good.”

You almost protest, but you know there’s no getting through to him—not with that expression. You hate Alphas, you hate him, and you really hate this awful pose—this mating-press pile-driving overkill where he always bullies into the backroom of your cunt, insisting on fucking your cervix as he digs his cockhead right at the mouth of your womb, knotting you and filling you up with the full worth of his load. It never fails to make you feel utterly wrecked and bedridden in the morning.

But he doesn’t care about that. You have no places you’re supposed to be anyway—nowhere aside from right here, in his bed, where you belong—his sweet Omega bride who’s going to give him lots of pups.

He lines himself up, pressing his head past the ring—watching it swallow around him and biting his lip at the sight. “Look at it, baby—look as I stuff that perfect pussy all the way up—”

He sinks in slowly, revering your cunt for every inch you receive—watching it in awe as it takes the entirety of his length right down to the base. It’s like a magic trick how it all disappears—you’re so tiny, and yet you’re built for this, to take every part of him in, hugging his shaft with velvet heat, milking him as he kneads the spot inside you that always makes you cry out so good for him.

“Yes, baby—that’s my girl—take it all,” he coos, all but sitting on your ass with his cock down your cunt. “It’s like your pussy’s made for me, isn’t it? Perfectly tight, perfectly deep, perfectly wet and chunky to feel like I’m fucking heaven itself—”

You feel no different from a toy when he does this—a squeaky toy manufactured for a Chihuahua puppy, yet mistakenly given to a full-grown Rottweiler. He straight dogs your cunt through several peaks—so soaked now that it fossettes down both the slope of your belly and the cliff of your spine. And still, he keeps going, rambling on like usual—all words that fail to reach you.

You’re so lightheaded you’re on the brink of passing out—overheating and out of strength, numb and tingly, beyond happy when you finally feel his knot swell within, propping you to take his seed. 

He keels over—his thighs pressed down tightly atop yours—panting above you—eyes half-mast and glazed, almost crying in bliss while feeding you his cum, knowing it's flooding your womb, breeding you full of warmth and love.

“Yes, every drop, baby—it’s all yours.” He keeps a thumb rubbing over your clit as he croons. Voice beyond lovesick, “Let’s make too many pups to count.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[multific]

Motherhood

Yautja x Reader

Summary: After you gave birth to your son, it took you some time to get used to having a half-Yautja and half-human. 

You felt sore all over. 

You moved against the fur but your whole body felt sore.

You could hear your mate’s soft breathing, it immediately made you feel at ease.

Yet, something felt out of place.

As you stirred from your sleep, you sat up in your bed and looked around. Everything looked normal, except for one thing.

The little child who used to be under your heart was now in a crib beside you. 

You looked at your mate, sleeping soundly beside you.

He got used to sleeping with you to the point where he didn’t even care anymore if you moved or woke up. 

It wasn’t always like that.

He often woke up with you when he took you into his home, but he got gradually used to you being with him.

You moved over to the crib, leaving the warmth of your bed, you stood up and got your son out of his crib.

It was a little strange to call him your son, after all, he looked nothing like you.

He looked like a pure Yautja, except for his eyes, his eyes were yours.

He wasn’t sleeping when you lifted him out of his crib, instead, he was watching, learning.

You ignored all the pain in your body as you moved out of the bedroom and into what you would call a kitchen.

You got yourself a glass of water as you sat down on one of the chairs. With your child in your arms, you moved him so you could see his face.

He laid in your lap.

“Will you never cry?” But your Baby had no reply. Of course, he didn’t he wasn’t even a day old. You watched him as his eyes wandered from your eyes to your chest and hands. 

You held a finger out to him, which caught his attention and he immediately grabbed it.

He continued to watch your finger as you smiled.

This little moment reminded you that even if he looked like a Yautja, he was still a baby.

Your baby.

This little boy in your lap was not so long ago in your stomach.

It was crazy to think about.

Your house felt a little too quiet, usually you were never up without your mate. So, this felt a little strange. 

You looked at your son.

“How am I supposed to feed you?” You said as you lifted him, trying to see if he was hungry or not. He was, you didn’t know how, but you could tell.

You pulled your nightgown down and you didn’t know how, but he was a natural.

You watched as he fed. 

He truly didn’t feel like your son. You looked after so many Yautja babies when you joined their tribe, this felt almost like one of those moments.

Except for the feeding part. Only a mother can feed their child.

And your son was no exception.

While he was born into a very high place in the hunting tribe, he was still your son. 

A highly anticipated member.

Your Mate was the right had of the tribe leader, a high position with lots of responsibilities.

One of which was to bring a son into the world.

Which you just managed to do.

You had a pregnancy which left your body sore and your mate feared the worst, but thankfully, you were able to give birth without any major issues.

And now, here you were, holding him and feeding him.

Your thumb ran down his little cheek, right next to where his mandibles were.

“You are beautiful.” You smiled and the child just kept looking at you.

Once he finished eating you pulled your gown back and pulled him to your chest, laying him down.

Did Yautja babies even burp?

Guess you will find out soon.

He did burp.

A small little burp.

And soon, he was off again.

You got up from the chair and headed back to the bedroom.

You got in, the fire was still going, but now, your mate was up.

He looked at you then at your son in your arms.

“He was hungry.” You said as you put him back into his crib before climbing back on the furs.

You let out a long yawn before getting under the covers. 

Your mate made a sound before laying back down himself. You lay down closer to him as he pulled you closer.

Maybe it was a difficult thing to give birth to a Yautja baby. Maybe it was difficult being married to one as well.

But you loved them both with all of your heart and that was enough, more than enough.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[tojisun]

!! female reader; dirty talking; breeding kink; slight overstim play; unrealistic sex x’>

thinking about how simon’s the type to keep saying filth to you when he’s balls deep. how, in the throes of his pleasure, so pussy-drunk, simon begins to wax poetry about the way you make him feel.

he’s got you folded in a mating press, his lips ghosting wet kisses along your trembling legs. “god, baby,” simon murmurs, his voice a drunken slur. “i need t’wife you up, i swear.” he punctuates this with a thrust, before his fingers pinch your clit.

you choke at the feeling, your legs kicking from where they’re slung over simon’s shoulders. your head thrashes against the pillow, not knowing how else to tether yourself from the stinging pleasure, your mouth falling open uselessly as garbled moans spill out.

“oh this,” he says, distracted by your reaction. “cute little thing, isn’t it?” he looks at your pussy almost with a starry-eyed gaze.

jesus-

“shu-ut up, si!” your voice breaks, weakened from the moans, but simon’s already looking too far gone, his eyes blown wide and his face flushed because of his pleasure.

“y’just squeezed me tighter, baby.” simon rips his eyes from your cunt to look at you with a sort of giddy trance. “y’like it when i play with–” he circles his thumb on your clit, making you squeal. “this? yeah? oh, lovie, you’re gushing.”

he pulls out, torturously slow, teasing, then he’s slamming back in. your ears ring at the resounding wet slide, his pelvis meeting your own with a goddamn squelch, and you scream, clawing at his back at the sharp pleasure that razes through you.

“going t’stuff you w’my cum everyday, baby.” simon giggles. “going t’make you so full.”

he nuzzles his nose on the side of your tear-soaked cheek. “y’want that, yeah? want t’feel sore because of how much cum’s stored in you? want t’be fucked until it takes?”

what-

“si! si!” you cry, mushy mind trying to understand what he’s insinuating. “wha- wh-…?”

“oh but you’d be so gorgeous, baby,” simon groans, his hand leaving your oversensitive clit to hike up along your body, dancing past your groin to plant just below your belly button. simon nuzzles close again, tracing the shell of your ear with his lips, then, “you’d be so pretty carrying my kids.”

those words make your body lock up, something in your mind just shifting right, and then you’re cumming, squirting all over simon’s cock and spraying on his legs.

simon outright moans, pulling back just enough to slot his lips against yours. you couldn’t even kiss him back, still so busy cumming, all cross-eyed at the intensity of your orgasm. it doesn’t matter to him, anyway, not when simon begins pistoning harder. faster. rougher.

every drag of his cock back in your pussy pushes more gushing squirt from you, and simon rumbles with a pleased groan, looking so blissed out as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. you dig your nails at his back but simon doesn’t even register the prickling pain, too busy chasing his own orgasm through your cunt.

“s’right,” he coos. “nothin’ else could make me cum, baby. nothin’ else but y’r pretty pussy. y’r tight pussy. god, it’s such a delicious pussy, baby, how am i so lucky to have you, huh?” his words mingle with the thwap-thwap-thwap sounds of his body slamming against your own. it makes you dizzy with pleasure, ragged rasps of breath is all that is passing through your parted lips.

simon croons. “how’d i chance luck and end up w’such a delight?” another wet sound from your pussy rings amidst his words. “mmm, hear that baby?”

you nod, you think. or you moan a reply. honestly, you don’t even know, not with how dizzy you are at the peaking pleasure because there’s no way you’re cumming again–

“that’s the sounds that a happy wife makes,” simon purrs, replying to his own question, and the weight of his words washes over you like the pleasure that’s racing across your synapses. “that’s the sound that someone makes when they want to be bred.”

“simo-nnnnn!” you scream, the sound guttural and ragged, and your eyes can no longer see anything, and your ears are ringing, and- and–

simon laughs, the sound curling into something so, so fond. “y’r so pretty when y’cum, baby.” he kisses your wet cheek. “one more? f’r me?”

fuck-