#No more smut please

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Do any of you guys have any super fluffy meet cute rom com ideas/requests? Either that be for Spencer or Daryl or literally anyone that i write about?

I just need something about falling in love in it's purest form.

[oobbbear]

I want to post this here too because I’ve seen it happen a few times

Please understand that there are cultural differences and language differences, if you see this happening let the person clarify what they meant, that person might just not be familiar with words the western side of the internet use

[bi-writes]

you're cooking when you notice him. you finish dicing the onion on your cutting board, and when you look up, you smile when you see the looming shadow that takes up the space behind your curtains. (mercenary!ghost x fem!reader, 18+)

"hi, spooky skeleton," you giggle, turning around and dropping the onions into the pot. the sizzle warms your apartment, and when you turn back around, you smile wider when he's come out from the shadows, closer, already on the other side of the kitchen island and only a few steps away from you.

he's geared up. vest thick and heavy strapped to his chest, the hood of his rain jacket over his head to further conceal the skull mask he wears. he stands tall, back straight and eyes narrowed, what little you could see of them. you put the cutting board down, twirling the kitchen knife you hold in your hand before holding it out in front of you, putting the sharp tip against the center of his chest.

"slow down there, big boy," you coo. "did you do as i told you?"

he snarls a bit before fishing a phone out of his pocket, tossing it onto the counter. you look down at it, watching the video playing. it's your mark, slobbering in tears, begging for his life. he pleads, holds up his hands, shakes his head, says that he's sorry in every language he knows until there's a satisfying hole in the middle of his forehead, a lone trail of blood making its way down his face. you think it looks like he's crying tears of blood. it's oddly poetic.

you look back at him, meeting his dark eyes, and you draw your hand back, setting the knife down. with your other hand, you drag your knuckles down the side of his masked face, puckering your lips and blowing him a dramatic kiss.

"such a proficient one, you are," you murmur. "what is that? third one this week?"

"want m'prize," he growls, and you step closer hooking your fingers into the collar of his vest and blowing him another kiss. then, you reach for the kitchen drawer next to you and pull it, taking out a thick envelope and handing it to him.

"you're making them very happy, ghost," you tap the plastic of the skull, giggling. "they like you a lot. got time for another?"

he clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side, and you squeak when he reaches down and grips both sides of your ass with two big hands. you laugh, but it turns into a breathless moan when those hands slip under your skirt and tug at the lace of your panties.

"i want the real prize, want wot 'm owed," ghost says lowly. you stand up on your toes, pressing your mouth to his over his mask. you let your hands fall, pressing on the backs of his hands, encouraging him to slip a few fingers under the lace and prod the entrance of your sticky cunt.

"you want it, baby?" you whimper. "do you?"

"yes--" you feel him bite from under the mask, and you stick your tongue out, licking over the line of his bottom lip, your pride swelling when you feel how shaky he breathes as you tease him. "give it t' me--"

there it is. now i have you.

"well..." you press your pelvis to his, rocking against his fingers, and he hisses when he feels the way you soak the fabric of his gloves. he wants to eat it, he wants to have you, he wants what he was promised. "gotta do somethin' for me first, ghost. gotta job for you. can't pay you for it though, not the way you like."

you think you see him smile under the mask, the corners of his eyes crinkling as if he likes what he hears. as if he knows what it is you will give him if he just does as you say.

"y'know wot it is tha' i want, don't you, swee'eart?"

yes, you think, and you respond by giving the front of his mask a kiss, one you think he reciprocates by the way he cradles the back of your head.

i know what it is that you want because...i want it, too.

[poetslastdeath]

okay but i need a reader who is badshit insane, i need a reader with a history dretenched in so much blood that it’s stained them.

i need a reader that can be as stoic and scary as ghost so much so that they’ve become more of a legend then a person, a rotting grave that holds the bones of who they once were.

or a reader that was always drawn to the glint of a knife and the sight of blood running down their hands until no more skin showed, more monster than human since birth.

let them be feral I BEG‼️‼️‼️ especially for price, let them be feral and protective and obsessive and in love with price please 🙏🏽 🗣️

[nirvanaissogood]

I need them in my GUTS.

[radio-writes]

What is Left of Me Without You?

Synopsis: Your husband didn't love you, not yet at least—that's what he told you. First, he wanted to see just how much you loved him.

Warnings: dubcon, smut, oral - m receiving, sex, abusive relationship, heavy manipulation, gaslighting, some misogyny, angst

Tags: married, one sided romantic love, Alastor x Reader, female!reader, reader is somewhere on the ace spectrum too

MDNI

To everyone in your town, you and your husband were the picture perfect couple.

Alastor, the bright, charming, down-right intoxicating radio host, walking down the street with you, his absolute darling of a wife on his arm.

Smiling, giggling, sharing hushed whispers. It looked as if the two of you were lost in your own lovely little world.

Even behind closed doors, Alastor proved himself to be the perfect gentleman. You never wanted for anything, never grieved, never felt lonely. 

If you so much as glanced at something by a storefront, Alastor would have it tied with a bow at the foot of your bed.

If anything caused you grief, or even inconvenienced you the slightest bit, Alastor would have dealt with it by the end of the day. 

If you ever felt lonely, well...

You supposed you didn't really have the right to feel lonely. Alastor was always there, wasn't he?

You woke up to the sound of your husband's humming. His smooth voice glided over each note skillfully as you peeled your eyes open.

The sight before you wasn't anything new: the other half of the bed empty and already fixed up. 

You turned to sit up, and found Alastor in front of your vanity as he straightened his bowtie. He caught your eye through the reflection, and his smile broadened.

The greater half of New Orleans would probably kill to be in your place right now. Seated in a lavish bedroom, your famous, dapper husband walking to your side of the bed to place a kiss on your hand. 

"Well good morning, darling! Don't you look adorable in this state." His sweet words greeted you.

It was there again, that odd feeling that sunk in your gut. What was that?

"Good morning, my dear." You greeted him back, ignoring whatever it was. A tired smile graced your lips as you peered up at him. "Headed to work already?" You asked him. 

"Why, of course! Who else would wake up New Orleans and tell all those sleepy bones to shake a leg and hop to work?" He struck a pose, hand on his chest. "Only yours truly, of course!" 

His warm chestnut eyes met yours through the lenses of his glasses. You let out a tired, soft laugh as you glanced away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks.

You adored this man—every single bit of him—so you found it hard not to get flustered over him, even after all this time. Hell, you were still counting your lucky stars that he chose to marry you of all people.

Why? Well, you tried not to ask yourself that.

He'd already given you his answer, hadn't he?

Alastor placed a chaste kiss to your cheek, quickly pulling you out of your thoughts before they could spiral. You looked back at your husband as he said something about having to run off or risk being late.

You remained sat in your bed, smiling and watching with hearts in your eyes as your darling husband waved on his way out of your room. 

"Looking forward to what you'll cook up this evening, sweetheart!" Alastor grinned, right before the door shut behind him.

And it was there again.

The gnawing feeling was coming by more and more frequently now. What was it?

Was it actually loneliness? But that would be so silly, wouldn't it?

Your husband didn't love you, but he trusted you. And that should be enough for now.

At least, that's what he said when he proposed.

You and Alastor knew each other for a very long time, and basically all of New Orleans knew you took a very strong liking to him.

Alastor had raised the proposition back then. You remember how he had explained that it would be a good thing for both your sakes. How you'd get to be with someone you loved oh so much, and how convenient it would be for him to finally get marriage out of the way. And even more so with a cherished friend like you!

Sure, you hesitated back then; unsure if you really wanted to marry a man who didn't love you the way you did him. But he sung you praises, he sung you promises.

You were darling, you were beautiful, you were smart, you were kind. How could he not grow to love you in your marriage? How could he resist falling for a such a doll who was offering him her heart?

So you said yes. 

Because you loved Alastor with every bit of your heart, but he simply just wasn't ready to love you back yet.

And he was such a lovely man who never failed to shower you with affection. Maybe you were just asking for too much—fretting over such small things—for you to feel upset about waking up without your husband beside you. 

And—and he was a radio host, after all. Of course he had to get to work early.

You really didn't need to spare it another second of thought.

No, what you really needed to focus on was how you could help your dear, hardworking husband.

You shook your head and slapped your hands softly against your cheeks. You've got to knock that annoying feeling loose. It was all so pointless.

With a more determined look, you got up from the bed. You neatly fixed the sheets and pillows, taking extra care to make sure every single wrinkle was smoothened out.

You silently ran over the list of tasks you had to do today.

Obviously there's cleaning and making sure the house was in order. It would be a real shame if Alastor came home to an untidy space. He's already out working late for both of you, the least you could do was make sure he had a clean home to rest in.

You ought to make time to drop by the market for some fresh meat to cook up. Alastor would surely be famished after work, right? And your mama always did say that the quickest way to a man's heart was through his stomach. 

You could also drop by the tailors and get the hem of one of your Alastor's dress shirts straightened out. He hasn't said anything about it, but he's avoided using that particular one for a while now. You knew the uneven stitches had to be bugging him.

Oh, you really needed to pass by a locksmith, too. That dang lock on the basement door still had not budged no matter what Alastor did, and you just could not find the key anywhere.

You've been waving the issue off for a while now—Alastor was right in saying there's no real rush to it, nothing really important down there, anyway—but it'd be nice to have the extra storage available to you again.

You let out a huffed breath and placed your hands on your waist. You held your head high and ready. "Right. Let's get this show started."

It was a busy day, as it always was for you. The hours ticked by as quickly as loose sand through an open palm.

You didn't have time to feel lonely, not when you were too busy scrubbing with all your might against a particularly stubborn grease stain on your sink. 

When the house was finally all neat, you got yourself ready to head out. Hair done, just a touch of make up, and a rather modest dress—at least as modest as Alastor had bought you. That man did lean towards the more finer tastes.

You felt it was a bit much just to do a few errands, but you were the sweet wife of a local personality. You had an image to uphold. You had to make sure you didn't do anything to tarnish your darling husband's reputation. 

This was just part of the whole package, you supposed. Nothing that can be done about it.

Heading out into the afternoon sun, you painted on a bright smile for all the kind people that greeted you. Cheery, happy, friendly. Oh, but not too friendly.

Meek, quiet, all prim and proper. The makings of a fine lady worthy of her spot by the dapper radio host's side.

You dropped your husband's shirt off by the tailors first. They seemed to be more than happy to rush your request once you let slip who it belonged to. They promised they could have it ready in just a few hours. You thanked them softly, and noted how they were such jolly workers, laughing even as you left the store.

You dropped by the locksmith before the market, not really wanting to carry out a bunch of raw meat as you went about your day.

The nicely dressed man was a bit—difficult to talk to. He seemed to think you had no idea what a door even was. He had just started explaining how you open a doorknob when you felt your cheeks start to strain from how hard you worked to maintain a smile.

"Oh dear me, would you look at the time," You politely cut him off, pretending to be shocked at how late into the day it was. "I am so sorry, sir, but my husband should be coming home any minute now and I haven't even started on dinner!" 

A lie. Alastor always came home late.

The man raised a brow at you in disbelief. Not that he didn't buy your act, but more judgmental that a woman would be so careless as to forget to take care of her spouse.

You ignore the look he gave you, keeping your shy smile on. "Maybe you could just sell me the tools. I could get my husband to work on it."

"Sure thing, sweetheart," The man shrugged. "I'll get what you need in a split, so you can run back and make a quick stew at the very least."

He ended up selling you the tools, along with a bunch of other needless things, with the assurance that your husband would definitely need them all.

You bit your tongue as you smiled and thanked him.

Why on earth would you need a box of nails and a bottle of glue to split a lock open?

But you really did not have it in you to stand in that shop any longer.

Besides, how would it look if the papers caught whiff of Alastor's sweet little wife yelling and lecturing a local shop keeper.

You couldn't burden your husband like that.

You hurriedly rushed to the market before they could close, buying the best cut of meat they still had at this hour, before you made your way back to the tailors to check on the progress.

The workers snickered as you entered, but you really didn't think much of it until they pulled out the dress shirt you dropped off.

A large, nasty stain of lord-knows-what sat right at the center of what used to be its pristine white color.

Your smile strained badly. "Oh dear, what on earth happened?" You asked with feigned worry. You already knew what happened.

"Afraid we spilled a bit of lunch on it, sweetie." One of the ladies explained, her companions giggling behind her. "Couldn't be avoided, unfortunately."

You felt your eye twitch.

"I'm sure a lovely doll like you could find a way to fix it. Wouldn't want that hotty husband of yours to leave your pretty face for something like this, would ya?" She went on.

"You better run, though. I heard the cleaners were planning on closing up early today." Another bitch woman spoke up.

Had you been any less horrified at your husband's ruined shirt, you would have been fuming.

You quickly took the shirt and paid, rushing out before you did anything stupid. Like cry.

Oh Alastor's rivals would have a field day twisting a story like that.

As you left the ladies called out "We did straighten the hem, darling!" And a more snarky, muttered comment, "Although, you'd think someone as handsome as Alastor could find a gal that could do something that simple herself."

The walk back home was probably the most tiring part of it all. Having to keep your back straight, your smile lovely, your voice friendly. Never letting the kind people know anything was wrong.

Because you knew those kind people were all itching to have any reason to gossip about your husband.

And you just couldn't have that.

Your shoulders finally sagged as you closed the door to your house. Your smile dropped immediately as you leaned against the door in exhaustion.

You stuffed the ruined shirt in your bag, thinking maybe your can throw it out later on, but you just knew Alastor would notice it was missing. He won't be happy with you, that's for sure.

Never mind that you've bent over backwards for the better half of a year to cater to him. Never mind that you've hidden all your faults under the rug. Never mind that you've been absolutely devoted to him even before your marriage.

You had to be perfect.

But you weren't. And you knew that. It seemed every other woman in New Orleans knew that. And now with the ruined shirt, Alastor would know that too.

He'll see you as less.

It's there again, that's stupid heavy feeling in your gut. Whatever it was.

You sighed in defeat. If you couldn't get the shirt fixed, maybe you could at least make sure he had a good meal to come home to? Maybe that could make him overlook your faults this time.

You burnt it. Somehow,—despite normally being an amazing cook every other time besides tonight—you managed to burn dinner.

You put your hands over your face, groaning in frustration, just absolutely exasperated. Why on earth was everything going wrong today. Why couldn't you just do one thing right? Why couldn't you just be of some help to Alastor? Why—

You lifted your face from your hands, attempting to slow your breathing. Your eyes glanced around your ruined kitchen and your burnt dinner, and that stupid shirt peaking out of your bag, and...the door to the basement? 

Right! Maybe there could still be one thing you could do right today.

You wiped your hands over your apron, immediately scrambling for the tools you bought earlier today. 

While you weren't the smartest when it came to these things, surely you could figure something out to try to loosen the lock.

You've watched your gentle husband fiddle around with the lock many times before, never opting to break the thing. You suspected he didn't want to look in any way violent in front of you, but you always thought it was so needlessly complicated.

You grabbed a hammer from the pile of junk and made your way towards the basement door. You tested the lock's strength with a few, rather light, taps of the hammer head. It didn't feel that sturdy. You thought you could definitely break it with a bit of force on your end.

You gripped the handle with both hands and brought the hammer down on it.

Once. The sound of metals clashing echoed in your house

Twice. You had to do at least this today.

Thrice. You can't be useless to him.

You smashed the hammer down onto the lock one more time and the battered thing fell to floor. 

Your eyes widened, lips spreading into grin out of relief.

Thank heavens, you managed something today. Alastor would be glad to hear this, at least. 

You bent over, picking up the fallen lock from the floor.

A weight pressed against you from behind.

Startled out of your wit, you stood up straight, just in time for whoever it was to flatten your body right against the basement door.

"What a lovely sight that was." You hear Alastor's voice right by your ear.

His head found home where your shoulder and head met. His nose trailed up against your skin as he breathed you in.

A gasp escaped your parted lips as you feel his hands squeeze the flesh of your hips harshly.

"Alastor?" You were partly dazed, confused what was happening.

His hips pressed against yours at the sound of his name from your mouth, and you all but recoil.

Alastor was rarely handsy, and that was fine by you. You actually realized that you much preferred it that way. Alastor's love being the only thing you ever really wanted from him.

Moments like these have always caught you off guard.

Because your husband knew that. He knew you weren't comfortable with being intimate. He knew you'd much rather have him just sit by you. He knew you weren't one to jump his bones.

And Alastor normally respected that.

"What a naughty little doll you are," Alastor's breath hot against your skin. "Welcoming a man home all bent over, presenting yourself." He whispered.

Your eyes widened, attempting to turn to face him, but his body kept yours pinned to the door.

"Baby, no. I," Your breathing had gone a bit ragged. "I was just picking up this lock here."

You raised your hand, showing the broken, battered lock in your grip. "I finally managed to open the stubborn thing." You tried to smile up at him over your shoulder, expecting praise.

Alastor's eyes stayed on the lock for a second too long you think, before his hand circled your wrist and yanked your arm behind your back. His swift hands made your other arm follow after it immediately.

The ache in your limbs, the grip he had on you, the shock of it all made the lock tumble right out of your grasp.

Alastor let out a hum of disappointment. "That's a real shame, sweetheart. I thought you were finally opening up to me." He said, his voice still filled with mirth. "Could have really used it tonight, too."

You felt him ground his hips against your clothed ass. His half hard cock evident against you.

He used one hand to keep your arms where they were, the other made its way to caress up your torso. His large palm trailing past your breasts, ending up by your soft cheeks.

Contrasting with the ones that held you still, his fingers were gentle against your face. His fingertips barely ghosted over your skin.

"I had a rather rough day at work, you see. Could you blame a man for wanting a little comfort from his wife?" He whispered.

The words hung in the air. Your lips unable to deny him, but unable to agree all the same.

A heartbeat passes, and suddenly you were free. Alastor stepped back from you, your body relaxing at the absence of his towering figure. 

"But what kind of ruffian would I be to force a lady to do that against her will," Alastor said, his tone rather carefree.

You turned around to finally face him, only to see him looking else where.

Your eyes followed his line of sight and you noticed the ruined shirt, pulled out of the bag, sitting right next to a burnt dinner, all framed by a horribly messy kitchen.

Alastor looked back at you, his charming smile ever present. "I'm sure you excel at all the other aspects of being a wife, anyway." He says, as if he hadn't just seen the failure you've made of your day.

He began to walk away, and your hand reached out before you could even think. Almost as if on reflex. Almost as if it's what you had to do.

You meekly pulled him back. His eyes watched you, almost expectantly, as you cupped your palms against his cheeks, and invited him down to meet you.

Your lips brushed chastely against his as he let out a satisfied hum.

You pulled away just enough to speak, your eyes looking up at him as your breaths mixed. "What...what can I do for you, my love?"

Alastor's smile stretched, his lips dipping down to meet yours again for a second time. His hand quickly found its way to the small of your back, heavy as he ushered you out of the kitchen.

"I think that's better discussed in the bedroom, darling." He purred against your ear.

You swallowed thickly against your tightening throat. 

Normally Alastor's hands on you were cherished, but you wanted nothing more than to squirm away from his hold right then. You knew where this was heading, but it just was not something you ever found appealing.

But you could do it for Alastor, right? You have done it for him before, anyway. 

Even if you didn't particularly enjoy it, at least you'd be satisfying your husband. At least you'd be close to him. At least you'd be useful to him.

Alastor, like the chivalrous gentleman he is, opened the door of your bedroom for you as he lead you in. You heard the click of the lock behind you, right before you were quickly tossed onto your bed.

You squealed as your felt your body bounce against the soft sheets. Your dress bunched up your thighs as you adjusted your legs.

Alastor stood at the foot of your bed, working his bowtie off with nimble fingers. "Darling, why so tense? It's only me." He says, his voice almost soothing.

But it was there again. That annoying feeling. It seems heavier than ever.

Was it really loneliness? 

How could you even be lonely now, when the man you love was waiting to mount you.

"I'm just nervous, that's all, darling," You managed to say honestly. "It hurt quite a bit last time."

Your eyes watched closely as Alastor's hand made quick work of the buttons in his vest, shrugging it off and placing his knee on the bed. His eyes trained on your reactions all the while, enjoying the flicker of uncertainty on your face as you bit your lip.

"I know a way we can ease that," He said. He reached out his hand to you, inviting you to take it.

Your shaky hand didn't hesitate. Because you'd do anything for this man.

You loved Alastor, so much, with your whole body, but he seemed to revel a bit too much in that knowledge.

He knew you could never deny him. So when your hand was in his, he pulled you closer, watching with delight as you awkwardly crawled to the end of your bed.

"Care for a box lunch, darling? It'd hurt less if we're a lot more slick." Alastor teased, chuckling as you looked at him with confusion.

The gears seemed to click in your head when one of his hand rested on your hair, the other worked his belt off.

"Oh," Was pretty much all you managed to squeak out. It was definitely not what you expected. 

You hadn't noticed that you tried to pull away until Alastor applied a bit more pressure on your scalp to keep you still. 

He pulled his heavy cock free from its confines. He ran his hand over it, lazily pumping the hardening member in his palm as his gaze was transfixed on you.

Your wide eyes watched every movement of his hand. Panicked, you seemed. Not unlike many panicked does he's shot down in the past.

Not unlike many panicked other things he's felt lose life under his hands.

"Something wrong?" Alastor mused, head tilting as he watched you flinch at the sight of his dick twitching.

Your eyes finally pulled away from your husband's groin, looking up to meet the man's lidded gaze behind his glasses. "We haven't really tried that before and," You bit your lip, unsure on how to proceed. "It just seems a bit deviant." 

"Well then it's lucky we're both in such safe company then, isn't it?" The hand in your hair loosened it's grip, opting to softly comb through your hair. The slight tension in your shoulders melted away. "I've been rather curious about what all fuss was about, didn't really have a partner I trusted enough before to try, though." 

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. He saw how bad you messed up today, didn't he? He saw how miserably you failed at the simplest of tasks. But he still trusted you? He still trusted you enough to do something as unorthodox as this?

"I suppose I've been rather curious about it myself." You smiled up at him nervously, your hand reached out by your own choice to hold his hefty cock in your palm.

You were lying.

He knew you were lying and he loved it.

"Then open up, my dear." You heard him say, gently guiding your head closer to his crotch.

You decided looking up at your husband was easier than watching your own hand pleasure his shaft. You kept his gaze as you parted your lips, letting your soft tongue meet the skin of his head before wrapping your lips around it.

There was a rather salty taste in your mouth, a bit of his precum leaking onto your tongue. You tried not to cringe at the taste, choosing instead to focus on the way Alastor's brows furrowed when you took more of him into your warm, obedient mouth.

"How do I taste, darling?" He teased, knowing you couldn't answer. 

He looked down at you expectantly. Not knowing what else you could do, you began to slowly bob your head, keeping your lips wrapped around his shaft.

You took your time, slowly letting more of him past your lips each time you sank your head back down. Eyes trained on your husband's face, part of you wondering if he'd praise you if you did a well enough job. But it seemed your efforts offered far too little friction for Alastor's patience.

His hips started moving against your face. Softly at first, but he soon began to push at your head to meet his thrusts.

The head of his hard cock nudged your throat and you choked. Your hands immediately went to his hips, nails digging in with how hard you held onto him. 

Tears forms in your eyes as you looked up at your husband, and your heart immediately filled with panic when you were met with a look of disappointment. 

"Hmm. Seems this might have been too much for you to handle." He sighed, finally pulling you off his dick.

A string of saliva stayed between the head of his cock and your lips as you coughed and gasped for air. 

But even as your jaw throbbed, you went to reach your hand out and tried to lean back in towards his dick. "No, no. I can do it, I promise," You said hurriedly.

"There's no need to force yourself, my darling wife," Alastor tutted, pushing you back by your shoulder, stopping you from getting another chance to prove yourself. "We can't help that you have your limits."

"I just need practice." You swore, looking up at your husband. You hated that you disappointed him again.

His fingers reach out to tilt your chin up, making space for his lips at your neck as he slowly pushed you back into the bed with his own body.

"If you ask nicely enough, I'm sure we can have you try again another time," Alastor said softly, as if granting you such a troublesome request.

The back of your head softly met your pillows as Alastor nudged your legs apart with his knee.

He slotted himself between your legs, grinding his slick cock impatiently against your panties. His groan was practically breathed into your ear.

You wanted to hear more of it. While you weren't particularly eager for sex, you were starved for your husband's praises. And if this is what it took then so be it.

You bucked your hips up to remove your underwear, your groin meeting his lazy thrusts as you did. 

"And here I was beginning to think you didn't want me." Alastor jested as he parted from your neck to help you rid yourself of your underwear. His long fingers slid the flimsy thing down one leg and let it stay on the other.

"There probably isn't a woman in this apple that doesn't want you, my love." You half-joked, but your soft laugh abruptly ended in a gasp.

Alastor pressed the thick head of his cock at your entrance, teasingly pushing in just the smallest bit. "You're most likely right," He said, watching as your eyes closed at his trespass. "But you are the only one lucky enough to have me."

And you should know it.

Your back arched as your husband pushed past the tight hole of your entrance. What little resistance your walls made barely bothered him as his throbbing head forced your walls apart.

His hands dug into the sheets by your body. The smooth covers wrinkling in his grip as he strained to stay still.

"This alright for you, darling?" He asked, running his thumb softly under your eye to coax you into looking at him.

Your heart fluttered. Even when in such carnal need he cared about your silly little wants. You pry your eyes open to see Alastor peering down at you with a smile.

"I could stay with this much if you need me to." He told you, rocking hips barely moving. The head of his cock nearly slipping out before he pushed back in, just until it disappeared again into your warm walls.

He was being so kind and accommodating, you couldn't bring yourself to be so needlessly selfish.

Your cunt strained to take even just his very tip, but it was so pointless to let something like that get in the way. Your petty little apprehensions shouldn't matter. Not when you're with your husband.

Your lips strained to force a smile. "I think I can take more, my dear."

It was all Alastor really needed to hear. he dragged his dick out of you, letting it slip out. Wanting you to feel how empty you were without him. Before he rammed his hips against yours; sheathing his cock fully in your warm cunt.

"What a gal," Alastor praised. "Loving, kind, and gentle, but takes a cock like she's on the clock in a call house."

Alastor loved the way you keened at his words.

He loved the way you yearned for his touch, even when you both knew it wasn't your game.

He loved the way you worshiped him, always so desperate to please him.

Oh, how he loved how you were always so ready to give him everything. 

Alastor loved you, but just not in the way you hoped.

When you woke up the next morning, the view in front of you wasn't anything new.

Alastor's half of the bed was empty. The previously rumpled sheets for the previous night's rendezvous were pristine and smoothened out once more.

It was there again. Whatever that feeling was. 

You assumed it's going to be here for a while.

Alastor seemed to have already headed out before you awoke, not that it felt any different from other mornings.

With a sigh you made your bed. Once again going over everything you had to do for the day.

You had to clean—because you always had to clean—but more so now knowing you left quite the mess yesterday. You have to stop by the market once more, maybe look through clothing stores to find a new shirt for Alastor.

You didn't want him upset with you over that after all. While he didn't bring it up, you knew it still likely bothered him.

You made your way to the kitchen, ready to get the day started.

Except something glimmered as you walked by it. Your head turned to its direction, seeing the same padlock you broke the night before in perfect condition—back on the door to the basement.

Your brows furrowed as you approached it. Fingers gingerly examining the cold metal.

But, how could it be back on here? You swore you broke this stubborn thing last night.

From the corner of your eye, you see a note on the counter, immediately recognizing Alastor's messy handwriting. 

Yes, of course. He must have replaced the old one and fixed whatever damaged you did on the door while you were asleep. That would easily explain it.

You picked up the note, smiling softly to yourself at how silly it was to be confused.

It was a brilliant bash, my darling, but it seems this lock is just much too sturdy :(

Don't fret! I'll find a way to open it eventually! Do try to stay away from the tools though, dear. We wouldn't want you hurting your soft delicate hands!

Yours, Alastor

P.S.

I'd prefer a little less char on the meat this time! Haha!

You tried to reread the note several times, wondering if your husband was pulling your leg again. 

You broke this lock, you knew you did.

You swung a hammer at it thrice and it broke. 

Thrice? Or was it four times?

Whatever, the count didn't matter.

Or did it? 

You remained where you stood, confused at what to believe. The note still clutched in your hands.

Did you really break the lock last night? Or were you just so desperate to get something right that your fooled yourself into thinking that?

If you broke the lock then why was it still there now? Why would your darling husband tell you otherwise?

The only reasonable conclusion was that you didn't.

Surely, that made sense, right?

Your eyes stared at the note. Alastor's name seemingly bright against everything else. 

No other possibility made sense. Besides, if Alastor trusted you enough to marry you, it only made sense to return that privilege.

Right.

Your eyes lifted from the note, to the kitchen in front of you. The mess you made still loud and present and ugly. 

There was no use standing there fretting over such a silly, pointless, thing. Not when you had more pressing matters to attend to.

Who really cares about a dumb little lock, anyway? Didn't you have such a long list of tasks to do today?

Like proving your worth

To yourself

To the world

To your husband. 

Part 1 of 2 I hadn't intended for this fic to run as long as it did, and the best part was yet to come. It would have taken ages to get this out if I didn't cut it into half. Anyway, Read part 2 of 2 here!

[antiwhores]

Thinking about Bakugou having a problem with cumming in his sleep.

It only happens when he sleeps in the same bed as you. He wakes up and his pants are either wet or crusted depending on what time of night he apparently got off.

He was so confused the first time it happened, he thought he pissed himself at first glance. But after a quick check in the bathroom of your apartment, he realized it was a little less mortifying… in a way..?

He doesn’t know what causes it but it gets to the point where it’s every time y’all sleep in the same bed, even if its just a nap. He even started to avoid sleeping with you out of respect (and embarrassment).

But thats when it became a problem, when he stopped participating in naps and sleeping over. So you asked him one day:

“Hey, whats with you not sleeping over anymore?”

He immediately froze from what he was doing like a deer in headlights.

He didn’t immediately spit the truth out so you had to threaten him a little bit. A little manipulation never hurt anyone, right? But he finally spilled:

“I’ve been waking up with…”

“With what?”

“With my pants soaked with cum.”

It felt good but terrifying to finally tell you. He was scared you might call him a pervert, tell him it was over and there would be nothing he could do about it cause he was a pervert.

And just as he was about to apologize you spoke.

“Yeah, I know.”

He was now puzzled. You knew? All this time? It didn’t make sense! He made sure that you were asleep before he got up and changed his pants. Maybe you noticed how when you woke up his pants were always different? Or worse, you-

“You hump me every night until you cum, it wakes me up. I knew all along. If that’s what you’re worried about, just know that I don’t care. In fact, I like it. It’s my favorite part of you sleeping over.”

Was this relief he was feeling? Embarrassment? Shock? It was a little bit of everything.

[mariahcarreyyy]

Totally not thinking about coming home to lando and max passed out and you throw one of their shirts on and landos hand immediately grabbing one of your tits, totally not thinking it (this is what happens when I run out of melatonin gummies)

no yeah and im also totally not thinking about being sandwiched between them both after a long night out. your back pressed against lando's chest and max's chest against yours, his massive arms wrapping around you both. your eyes burn from the lack of sleep and just as they flutter shut, lando's hand sneaks inside the non-existent space where ur tits r being squished against max.

"lan?" you whisper as to not wake up the dutch.

the curly-haired boy only grumbles incoherently in his sleep, and you swallow thickly when he starts unconsiously kneading at your tits. arching your back slightly into his touch because they'd been in a bra the entire day and theyre sore and its so fucking relieving when lando massages them.

also totally not thinking about max parting your thighs with his knee while hes still asleep— because cmon its a comfortable sleeping position —with lan's thumb lazily rubbing circles on your nipple. Or how you'd start grinding on max's bare thighs till it put you asleep, like a weird ass horny lullaby.

[bishopsbeloved]

a night in

kate bishop x female reader

After dinner plans are cancelled, Kate Bishop skips straight to dessert

straight up smut, kate topping, she is so fucking horny, fingering, oral (R receiving), mentions of her strap, 1.4k words

Dating Kate Bishop keeps you on your toes.

At the last possible minute, as the two of you were ready to leave her apartment in white tie attire for the high-end Valentine’s dinner reservation awaiting you, she got a call from Clint that had her huffing and grunting and tugging off her blazer.

“Stupid— fucking— superhero thing,” she’d muttered, fumbling with her quiver, “won’t— give me a, uhm, a couple hours, baby, I’ll be so quick.”

When she comes home, you’re at the kitchen counter, preparing a homemade meal in place of your prior plans. You’re still in the tight little number she picked out for you to match with her suit, figuring she’d still want to take it off you. The front door slams, and almost instantly she’s dropped her gear on the ground and made a beeline towards where you’re stood.

“Hi, baby,” you murmur, setting down the knife and turning to face her. Within a moment she’s pressing herself against your back, hands on your hips, stopping you from moving.

“No,” she sighs against your skin, her chest to your back, her mouth on your neck. She leans into you, draping herself over your back to pin you between her body and the counter, and hold you in place. “Stay.”

You’re quiet, cheeks reddening as her lithe arms curl upwards to let her hands cup your tits. Sometimes she’ll hold them just for the sake of holding them, but today she wastes no time in beginning to roughly grope them over your dress, fingers tugging hungrily at the cleavage.

“Katie,” you sigh, unable to stop yourself from leaning back, instinctively relaxing into her touch. She’s solid behind you, deceptively strong, groaning against the skin of your neck and then taking it between her teeth. You whimper.

“Was thinking of these the whole time I was gone,” she tells you lowly. She fumbles with the front of your dress, whining in the back of her throat when she can’t free your tits with ease.

“J— just my tits?” you manage, overwhelmed by her, arching your back into her touch.

“All of you,” Kate admits hoarsely, her hands moving to undo the zipper of your dress now. “Just you. Fuck.”

She’s all over you, she’s everywhere, beginning to grind herself against your ass as she trails open-mouthed kisses across the newly exposed skin of your shoulders. She tugs your dress down further still, impatiently rutting against you like a dog in heat, and you wince as you hear fabric rip.

“S’fine,” she mutters against the skin of your spine, sending shivers down it. She begins to tug you towards the sofa. “C’mere.”

“Katie, the food,” you remind her.

“I don’t— screw the food, we’ll get takeout. You taste better.”

She grips your hips as she sits on the sofa and pulls you onto her lap. The dress is somehow squirmed off of you entirely, leaving you in nothing but panties, and as Kate fights with the buttons of her own shirt you’re finally able to take her in — her pretty lips are parted as she pants softly, cheeks a little flushed, pupils blown. She looks up at you as she tosses her buttonup aside and a thrill of arousal shoots through you as her darkened, hungry eyes lock onto yours and finally your lips meet.

You whine openly into her mouth as her tongue slides against yours, and her hands make their way to your tits again, her thumbs toying with your nipples. Without the boundary of your dress you can feel how cold her hands are, and it makes you tense, squirming a little.

“Shhh, sh sh,” she soothes against your lips, “just let me play with you. Been— been thinking of you like this all night, baby, fuck.” She drags out the syllables, her voice dripping with need, and she’s not the only thing that’s dripping.

“You’re so wet, huh?” Kate muses as your wetness seeps through your underwear and onto her trousers. She jogs her leg, rubbing against your cunt and watching with amusement as you squirm. “Yeah? That feel good, baby? You want more?”

You cry out in the affirmative, and one hand stays on your tits while the other slides down to nurse your overwhelming wetness. She toys with you over your underwear, teasing your clit until you’re shivering in her arms, before growing impatient with her own games as she often does and sliding her cold hand beneath the lacy fabric. You yelp at the contact, and let out a low guttural cry as she slides two fingers into you without hesitation.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothes you, lazily curling her fingers inside of you as the pad of her thumb makes its way onto your clit. “Just be a good girl and take it. I’ve been outside working, I’ve been so cold, and I was thinking of this the whole time. You’re gonna be good for me and warm me up, okay? You gonna warm up my fingers?”

“Y— yes,” you cry out. You’re rolling your hips into her, arms curled around the back of her neck, and as the pleasure grows more intense your head falls forward to rest on her shoulder. You pant softly as, on every thrust into you, Kate fucks into the sensitive spot of your gummy walls that makes your vision go white.

“So— s’good,” you whine, breath hot against her skin, and you feel her shiver a little.

“Yeah?” she murmurs, picking up the pace a little. With every thrust your wetness seeps out of you and down onto her thigh, soaking it. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” she says desperately, whiny, her own hips beginning to rut up into you as she fucks you, and it’s the way that she gets off on your pleasure alone that has you gasping and teetering on the edge.

“Cum— cum on my fingers, baby,” she almost begs, an arm looped around your waist to hold you in place as she fucks you steadily, sinking her teeth into the soft skin of your neck. With a cry you obey, blinding waves of euphoria rolling over you as you clench around Kate so hard that she struggles to continue thrusting into you.

“Fuck, fuck,” she grits, fucking you through your orgasm and shuddering a little. The realisation that she’s cum in her pants just from fucking you has you whining, dragging your fingernails down her back, rocking into her. Eventually she pulls her hand from your cunt, sucking your slick off of her fingers and whimpering at the taste.

“Have to taste you,” she mumbles, almost to herself, easing you off of her lap onto the sofa and then getting on her knees. “Just take what I give you, baby, so good for me.”

Kate nudges your thighs apart, burying herself between them and running her tongue up your slit. She groans at the taste, not caring for your little whimpers of overstimulation.

“So fucking good,” she breathes, one arm wrapping itself around each of your thighs to hold you in place. You’re too far gone to muster a reply.

Kate Bishop always eats you out like a woman starved. Tonight, though, she’s hungrier than you’ve ever seen her. She laps at you messily, her nose nudging against your sensitive clit, desperate to engulf you. You’re crying out her name, writhing, and when you reach out to wind your hand through her hair she looks up at you through her lashes. Her eyes are wide and dark, lips swollen, the entire lower half of her face glistening with your juices. She blinks up at you hungrily, still lapping at your clit, swallowing everything you have to offer her, and the sight paired with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you is enough to have you cumming on her tongue. She hums approvingly against you, the vibrations only prolonging your orgasm, and you feel so overwhelmingly good you can’t even move. Eventually she slows down, sensing your need for a break, and makes her way back up your body to tug you into her arms and hold you close to her.

“So good for me,” Kate soothes you, a hand combing through your hair. “So good at taking everything I give you. So, so good, my gorgeous baby.” She waits until you’ve come down a little more, until your eyes are a little less glassy, before grinning at you. “Happy Valentine’s, sweet girl. You want to ride my strap next?”

[xuzuitengenx]

I NEED more Neuvillette and Wriothesley x male reader

[ugh-yoongi]

hi! hope youre well!! would u mind putting together a taehyung rec list whenever u have the time? 🥹 happy holidays!

decided to combine these while i have a quick minute! thank you both for asking, hope you find something you enjoy in here. :)

most of these works contain mature themes/content. please heed tags and do not engage with any explicit work if you are a minor!

i know there are a bunch i’ve forgotten (and i feel like i see jimin/tae fics the least these days???), so please reblog and share your own work and your faves!

taehyung x reader

a human touch by @snackhobi

heatwave by @curly-bangtan

too long; didn't read by @fortunexkookie

upstream colour by @honeymoonjin

backseat serenade by @jungkxook

just a taste by @xjoonchildx

let it snow by @suga-kookiemonster

everything by @gukyi (special shoutout to good luck charm tho)

all of @here2bbtstrash's drabbles

jimin x reader

catch your drift by @snackhobi

into the wilderness by @gukyi

the devil in his details by @johobi

warm hands (ice cold heart) by @hobidreams

florezco by @honeymoonjin

red flag by @xjoonchildx

dreamy by @1kook

point of no return by @wwilloww

the shape of your body by @here2bbtstrash

menace by @eoieopda

good for you

as always, member x member fics under the cut!

member x member

taegi/yoonmin: see yoongi recs here

taejoon/minimoni: see namjoon recs here

vhope/jihope: see hoseok recs here

taejin/jinmin: see seokjin recs here

taekook/jikook: see jungkook recs here

you're only brave in the moonlight (vmin)

paint (vmin)

ring the changes (vmin)

you keep me up at night (vmin)

help me hold onto you (vmin)

i will make you whole (vmin)

hooters on peachtree (vmin)

meaner than mean (vmin)

you know i know (vmin)

the only one who makes me (vmin)

you are my bravest everything (vmin)

[cillianhead]

thighs in my mouth please 👄👈

that’s all…

[oakbuggy]

I come back from my break with fanart of @theblueflower05's fic they wrote for this crack ship 😭😭

pls fucking READ IT HERE it'S SO GOOD, LET THEM KNOW SO THEY WILL WRITE MORE PLEASEEEE

NSFW on the AO3 as always!

[nightfang22]

For the wayne smut could you add the idea of them losing their virginity to each other. Thank you<3

Of course I can!Thank you so much and I hope you love it!Sorry if it's not great,it is my first spicy fic.Anyways,lemme know what you think!

Virgin Lovers

Warnings:SMUT Minors DNI

Pairing:Wayne McCullough x f!Reader

Word Count:1.5k

His smile. His eyes. His lips. Wayne McCullough infected your every thought. He made you feel things that you had never felt before. As you were lost in thought, you didn't realize that your phone had been constantly buzzing. You picked it up on the third ring of the 4th call. "Hello?"

"Hey Y/n, you got any plans later?" It was Orlando. You and Orlando had always been good friends which is how you met Wayne. Orlando had introduced you two one day when you had begged him not to make you skip class alone.

                                                         *Flashback*

"Pleaseeeee Orlando? I don't wanna go alone and you're way better at this than I am! Besides, I'm only skipping to help you get these new Pokemon cards you wanted! I don't have to do this, you know." You pouted and whined until he conceded. "Fine fine I'll go with you. You probably wouldn't know what to look for anyways." You were about to make an offended rebuttal when something else caught his attention. Or someone, you should say. Turning around to see who it was, you thought it was just going to be the girl he's been constantly crushing on with a spinal cage. But no. When you turned around, you saw none other than Wayne McCullough walking in your direction down the hallway. You felt your heart pound and your cheeks flush. Your throat constricted and suddenly your mouth had run dry. You guess Orlando had noticed this and nudged you in the side with his elbow. "Oooo somebody got it bad, huh? Who is it? Is it the guy with the clarinet you have band with?" You jabbed him with your elbow back and tried not to stare at Wayne's gorgeously bruised up face. Orlando caught notice and smiled wide. "Oh, you got it bad for my boy, Wayne huh? Want me to hook you up?" Your head snapped violently in his direction. "I swear to the Gods Orlando, if you embarrass me in front of him I will kill you." Wayne walked up to us and looked at Orlando, giving a little head nod. "Wayne man! Where you been?" Wayne chuckled a little and it was this sexy soft rumbling noise. "Whatcha mean? I'm like 20 minutes late." Orlando laughed. "Yeah 20 minutes and like 3 weeks!" Orlando must have seen you fidgeting with the rings on the chain around your neck cause he put his hand on your shoulder and looked at Wayne. "Wayne, this is Y/n L/n. She's new-ish. She was new, like a month ago." You felt Wayne's eyes on you and you looked up at him through your eyelashes before smiling awkwardly. "Y/n, this is the man. The myth. The legend. My best friend, Wayne mothafuckin McCullough." Wayne punched Orlando in the shoulder and he winced. "Damn man! I'm tryin to do you a favor!" Wayne's eyes never left yours, even when you felt your cheeks tinge pink and you looked away briefly.

                                                     *Flashback Over*

You had been inseparable ever since. Wayne ended up cutting class with you and at some point you had completely lost Orlando and went to some record store where Wayne had asked you if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. You and Wayne have been together for 3 years now and you could never be happier.

"Uh not really. Probably just homework. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me and Wayne to this club off campus later? It's supposed to be super rave and like alternative vibes and I know that's your shit. It took me forever to get Wayne to agree and I maybe sorta already told him you'd go?" "Orlando!"

"I'm tryin to get a hot goth girlfriend! Help a brotha out!"

  I sigh in defeat through my nose. "Fine. I'll go. But the moment anyone is too drunk, we're leaving. Got it?"

 "Yeah yeah for sure! Thanks, Y/n! You the best!"

                                                *Timeskip to the club*

You look around at your environment. It's a lot of flashing lights and loud music. Not really your scene. You scan the crowd for Orlando and Wayne when you spot them against the wall outside. You walk up to them and you notice Wayne's eyes scan up and down your body. You're wearing a faux leather 2 piece with a silver body chain covered in dangly purple and blue rhinestones with black sparkly platforms. "Hey guys, sorry if I'm late I-" You get interrupted by Wayne pulling you in by the waist. He keeps you close to him and it looks like he's glaring at something when you look up at his face. You look over and see him glaring at some guy. The creep looked like he was eyeing you and you weren't for it. You curled closer to Wayne before Orlando waved us to go inside with him. The place was loud but very hype and fun. It didn't really seem like your kind of scene though. You don't get why Orlando wanted us to come. Neither you or Wayne were much of the party type. After watching everyone dance for a while, you decided to call it a night.

Wayne took you home and got you settled inside, laying you down in bed. You just laid there staring at his beautiful face. "I love you." Wayne never blushes but his cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. You don't know where the courage came from but you leaned up and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss quickly evolved into a heated makeout session. Wayne crawled into bed on to of you, pulling away only to take off his shoes cause he knows you have a thing about shoes on the bed. His hands roam your body in your pretty outfit. You pull away tossing off your body chain and making quick work of his shirt. Wayne wasn't necessarily 'buff' but he was very well tones and had a gorgeous frame. Your hands glided from his shoulders down to his waistline, working on the button of his jeans. He pulled away to look at you. "Are you sure? I-I mean I've never. And you've never. What if you regret it?" You pull him in for a sweet kiss. "I could never regret it. If anything, I wouldn't want to lose it to anyone else." That must have really got him going cause he practically tore off your clothes. He slid his jeans off along with his underwear and kissed my neck, pulling a gasp from you. When he pulls away, you finally have a good chance to look at him and holy fuck. You didn't realize your boyfriend was so….well endowed. Big enough that it looked like it might hurt. Wayne grabbed something out of his wallet and when you noticed what it was, he looked at you sheepishly. "Orlando gave it to me." He shrugged and smiled shyly. He rolled on the condom and crawled back over you. "And you're absolutely sure?" You nodded and placed your arms around his neck so that you could play with his hair. He placed himself at your entrance before stopping. "Hang on gimme your leg." You looked at him confused before lifting your leg and he placed it up on his shoulder, doing the same with the other one. "I read somewhere that it hurts less if you do it like this." He realigned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You felt tears prick your eyes as he stretched you and he kissed your forehead, stopping. He made you look into his eyes. "Are you okay? Do we need to stop?" You shook your head. He stayed still, waiting for you to adjust until you nodded you head. He began to move and even though it hurt, it was a good hurt. You moaned softly as he bottomed out inside you. Wayne gently bit down on your shoulder and kissed it before placing his forehead on yours, beginning to find a steady rhythm. Your moans were the sweetest sound he had ever heard and he just wanted to keep hearing them. With one especially rough thrust he hit that special spot inside you and you arched your back while digging your nails into his and he ate that shit up. He continued at that pace as you screamed out his name in pure ecstasy. You felt the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and your breathing picked up more. He held you close as you came crashing down from your high as his hips stuttered, painting the inside of the condom with his seed. He pulled out slowly, tossing the condom into the bin. He got up to grab a towel to clean you up and brought back a glass of water for you. After you're all cleaned up, he crawls back into bed with you, covering you up and pulling you close as you slowly fall asleep in his arms.

[miyuuuki]

Craving me some Yandere x Narcissist! Reader rn. Imagine a Yandere being so obsessed with you, so inlove with how you know how precious and absolutely gorgeous you are. Them showering praises on you and you sucking it up but responding with a simple “I know.”

[ronnierosest]

Zakkura "So he never initiates, never asks, and waits." - inspired by a fanfiction we're friends, right? (very adult) by totosheadset