#asking for permission to touch him

[bloodiedvocals]

The first time you get intimate with him you ask, “Can I touch you?” with a hesitant hand outstretched between the two of you, waiting for his answer in the heavy silence.

His breath hitches as he nods his consent, and as you place your hand tenderly at his collarbone a soft sob catches in his throat, because his past lover wouldn't even touch him, except if they were wasted.

And when your fingers trail a path across his painted body you murmur, “You're beautiful, Vessel — body and soul. You were made to be worshipped.”

[jackmkelly]

i have something to say about jack being touched

[soundleer]

I had the vision of an anon wearing a shirt that says "Jevin's #1 Simp" flipping their glasses up with wide eyes & their jaw agape at the bnuuy man himself for quite a while now, and I pray to the stars above that the image of this makes you giggle as much as it has me-

HELPMREERJE this idea is making me giggle just as well so much

i can't pass this opportunity to draw this anon getting bumped by jevin on accident and going feral over him

most sane simp

[cienie-isengardu]

[daybreakrising]

@resolutepath: "You think I didn't notice the way you've been staring all night?" ( Tartaglia to Vautrin )

The cold outdoor air does little to cool the heat that rushes to his face, but at least it serves to conceal the colour that rises in his cheeks. He burrows further into the scarf that is wound about his neck, digs his hands deeper into the pockets of the borrowed coat that is far thicker and far warmer than any of the clothes he packed to bring with him. It's true, he has been staring a lot tonight, but can he really be blamed for it? Tartaglia comes alive amongst his siblings in a way that he's never seen before, and he hasn't been able to tear his eyes away. He wanted to drink in the sight, burn it forever into his memory as something to treasure.

There is a warmth in his chest that he cannot attribute to the hearth he has been sat beside for the past few hours, nor the delicious meal served before that. It is a warmth that only burns hotter whenever he catches Tartaglia's gaze, whenever that smile – a true smile, not the façade put upon for most others – is directed towards him. He knows this feeling, understands it all too well. The last time (the first time) he felt this sensation, he ignored it, pushed it down, refused to acknowledge what it was until it was far too late.

He is not making the same mistake twice.

One hand slips free of its pocket, gloved fingers catching first at Tartaglia's sleeve before they skim down to lace, boldly, with his. "I wasn't trying to hide it." Technically not a lie, he reasons, even if he doubts he could have hidden it even if he wished to. "You look different around them, you know. All of that weight you carry on your shoulders melts away, and you seem… free. Content. They give you new life." He understands a little of that – whilst he certainly carried no such weight in his youth, he remembers feeling lighter around his sister, nonetheless. "You'll have to forgive me for taking the chance to enjoy it."

He steps closer, his other hand leaving the warmth of the pocket to reach up, catch Tartaglia by the chin. He guides the other man's face to his as he leans in, presses a kiss to his lips. His hand drops to Tartaglia's chest as he lets the kiss linger, as he leans into him. He could sink into this moment happily and intends to – until a short burst of giggling catches at the edge of his senses. He smiles against Tartaglia's lips and pulls back with a bashful laugh. "Ah… it would seem we have an audience…" He meets the other's gaze, his eyes reflecting the warmth inside him, and he gives the hand in his a gentle squeeze. "I rather think another snowball fight is in order, no?"

[felixfellowish]

I am so proud of myself and my dog, because shiba inus are often described as aggressive on social media, but I myself have patiently taught my dog ​​to tolerate nail clipping and, for example, removing ticks. 💖

[slimeouppy]

i have a lot of thoughts abt what lestat's lines in the trail reveal about his perspective on his courtship of louis that i will get down to writing Someday....

[fightingthetides]

[ readjust ] sender comes up behind receiver and readjusts their stance (maybe holding a gun, holding a golf club, aiming for something, etc.) to help them ( dino for hibari kek )

[Original] ||Accepting|| @dyingresolve

Hibari was holding a gun, and was inspecting it. Taking mock aim at a target, he was musing in his head the merit in learning how to properly shoot one.

That's when Dino had come from behind to adjust his aim.

Today, this skylark has decided to learn how to shoot a gun: SO HE CAN SHOOT A BUCKING HORSE TO DEATH.

"So you've finally come with your neck washed to be bitten to death. No, shot to death?"

Forgive him, he's always been sensitive about being touched without being given a warning first.

He'll forgive you in death.

[spring-lxcked]

@florietiae asked: ❝ ''good boy.'' / from rachel 👀👀 ❞ ( Send "good boy" for his reaction to your muse saying that to him. )

She was against the wall; he was on his knees. One of her legs over his shoulder, his face buried between her thighs. Half-lidded eyes, fingertips digging into her thigh while the other hand gripped her opposite leg. He was barely resisting touching himself, the taste of her overwhelming as his tongue pressed between her folds.

Her fingers in his hair and then those two words was enough to do him in. Good boy. A muffled moan escaped him, pressing closer so that he could circle and suck at her clit with something only describable as eagerness, perhaps appreciation. He certainly didn't have to grip his thighs, nails digging into skin to resist wrapping a hand around himself. Finally, he leaned back, smile caught on his lips despite the dark heat held within in his eyes. "I'm not sure. . . how much longer I can be good." The ache was near unbearable in the best way. And as if to show that she had truly gotten him to the point of desperation, he pressed close to her thigh, words almost inaudible as he said, "At least let me touch myself." Said in complete earnest. And finally, even more quietly: "Please." The usually stubborn man was asking for permission for the bare minimum, not only shamelessly but desperately.

[mw00nie]

before you and nanami started dating, you thought you had him all figured out.

quiet. composed. polite to a fault. the kind of man who holds the door open for strangers and tips too well. the kind of man who never interrupts, never forgets birthdays, never texts past ten unless it’s an emergency.

you thought you knew what kind of lover he’d be. careful. respectful. maybe even a little restrained.

you were so wrong.

because nanami kento is the definition of “gentleman in the streets and freak in the sheets.” not the loud kind. not the messy, aggressive kind. he doesn’t degrade. doesn’t spit unless you ask. doesn’t choke unless you beg. and even then, he makes you say please.

but he knows how to ruin you. with quiet control. with devastating precision.

he learns you like a language. reads you like scripture. he notices the smallest things. the shift in your breathing when his hand rests on your thigh, the way your hips tilt slightly when you want more. he catalogs it all. stores it away. and when you’re under him, you feel it. every inch of that studied, focused attention.

he fucks like he’s solving a problem he already knows the answer to. his fingers are experts. his mouth is lethal.

and the worst part? he says the filthiest things in the gentlest tone, like he’s giving a lecture. like it’s all just matter-of-fact.

“you’re soaking,” he’ll murmur, two fingers teasing your entrance. “i’ve barely touched you.”

“there it is,” he’ll say when he finds that spot inside you, the one that makes your back arch and your thighs tremble. “i thought so.” “you can take more, can’t you? i know you can.”

he never loses composure. he doesn’t need to. he’s in control, always. he’ll have you shaking, begging, gripping the sheets like you’re drowning, and he’ll still be fully clothed, sleeves rolled up, watch ticking on his wrist.

he praises you like it’s a prayer. “good girl. just like that.” “you’re being so patient for me.” “look at you. you’re so gorgeous when you fall apart.”

and when he finally fucks you, it’s deep and slow and ruthless in its restraint. like he’s savoring every drag, every clench, every sound you make. he doesn’t just chase his own pleasure. he chases yours. insists on it. he’ll edge you until you’re crying, then kiss the tears from your cheeks and ask, softly, “do you want to cum now?” as if he hasn’t earned the right to decide for you. as if it’s still your choice.

he’ll hold your face in one hand while he pushes into you, thumb resting at your jaw. not to grip. not to control. just to feel you. to anchor you.

you’ve never been so exposed. so undone. and he never rushes. never gets sloppy. even when he’s close, even when he’s quiet and tense and thrusting just a little harder, a little deeper. he still holds your gaze. still whispers, “breathe.” “you’re okay.” “i’ve got you.”

and when it’s over, when you’re limp and dazed and boneless beneath him, he pulls you into his chest and strokes your spine like you’re something delicate. something treasured. he doesn’t gloat. doesn’t tease. he just kisses your forehead and says, “you needed that.” like he planned it. like he’s known for days.

you thought you knew him. but the truth is, nanami’s the kind of man who thanks you after eating you out for half an hour, who ruins you with his hands and then helps you into the shower. he’ll say “may i?” like he’s asking permission to wreck your entire evening. and when you say yes, he will. completely. beautifully. quietly.a freak. but always polite. always in control. always him.

[syntheticsymp]

A little Ghost Hairball I can't seem to get rid of.

Simon gaining weight.

His last deployment was particularly nasty and he was getting too old for field work. So, asked Price to transfer him to desk duty. It wasn't the most glorious job, but it would get him back home to you in one piece.

It was hard helping Simon adapt to his new, normal life. His military habits were definitely hard to break. But, over time, he realized he was allowed to live as a normal person. He slowly stopped going to the gym. He preferred spending time at home with you, anyway. He started spending more time on the couch. Whether that meant watching the newest Manchester Match, folding a load of laundry, or curling up next to you, he was allowing himself to relax. And, best of all, he actually had time for three good meals a day. At the base, the closest thing he got to dinner was a crushed up granola bar that he would later throw up after PTSD nightmares. Now, the two of you had warm meals together. Simon hadn’t sat at a dinner table since he was a kid. And even then, it was tense.

With time, his abs softened, hidden by a new layer of fat. He wasn't overweight, definitely not, he just became a little softer around the edges.

He was worried you would dump him. After all, the two of you started dating while he was being deployed every other week. You had always known him as your muscled, military boyfriend. It was so strange, a man that had braved through so much trauma and death, only to be nervous about putting on a few pounds. He started taking off his shirt less around you, embarrassed about the person he was becoming.

Saying you didn't treat him differently was a lie. But you weren't upset. No, you were the exact opposite. You grew more physically affectionate, with his permission, of course. He was still not used to any touch that wasn't cruel. You comforted him and told him how you loved him, hell, maybe you loved him even more now that you could lie in his stomach comfortably. Cuddling with him now was far better than cuddling with his hard abs getting in the way.

And it was the truth, he could tell. He had memorized all your little tells that would show if you were just trying to be nice like you did with the neighbors.

You loved Simon like this, you didn't judge him. He was finally happy. Healthy. All yours. You pressed kisses against his stomach, his arms, truly appreciating him. Now that he wasn’t all muscle, you could suck on his skin and leave hickeys all over him

Simon smiled to himself when he thought back to those moments. Perhaps getting soft wasn’t too bad.

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[dollychou]

. . . 𝓗IT ❛ RECORD ❜

꒰ contents ꒱ྀི pure smut! fem!reader. p in v. doing it raw for the first time. eating you out. cowgirl & doggy position. sort of mirror sex. c*mming inside.

✉️ ྀི . . now this is the longest smut piece i've ever written. i couldn't stop imagining doing this with him oh my gosh im going feral ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

when you had first brought up the idea to your husband nanami, you would've never guessed just how much he would love it. it was a surprise even to himself.

as he adjusts the camera one last time, he finally clicks the record button before sauntering over to you who's already sprawled sexily on the bed wearing the cutest lace lingerie set. his eyes roam all over you, drinking you all in, thinking you look so unbelievably gorgeous in those pink little panties.

he hooks his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed, making you yelp softly in surprise. he just takes a moment to admire your beautiful self laid beneath him, your sweet doe eyes batting your eyelashes at him that has his heart doing flips.

his fingers graze your cheek tenderly, his eyes moving down to your glossy lips as he whispers, "you look so adorable, my love." a light blush creeps on your face, as you look away and then suddenly all too aware that you're being recorded. you shift slightly under his touch, turning your head away so that the camera doesn't catch you.

nanami's lips curl into a gentle smile as he places a finger under your chin to make you look at him. "don't hide that pretty face of yours, darling," he says. "i want to see you."

your face only grows darker but you nod — the whole idea was yours anyway and even though you are now feeling awfully shy, you want this as much as him.

he moves on top of you, his shirt already discarded somewhere in the room, which lets you ogle at his toned muscles. he sees how you stare at him which makes him blush now — no matter how many times you two have had sex, he can't help feeling so coy under your gaze.

his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, moving slow and tender, savouring the way you taste on his tongue and lips. he rests his hand under your neck, pulling you in deeper and closer as your arms drape over his neck. a quiet hum leaves him, the tent in his sweats growing and brushing against your thighs.

"can i take off my pants, sweetheart?," he asks in between kissing you. he still always asks for your permission before doing anything. he feels so wrong if he doesn't.

you nod, your fingers tracing lines over his chest, circling near his nipples. it's one of the most sensitive parts of him and you love the way he tries to hold the little whimpers that come out of him. you softly rub his perked up buds quite suddenly and his body trembles above you, quiet honeyed moans leaving him. "sweetheart," he whispers. "that feels so good."

you continue your ministrations, revelling in the way he feebly whimpers in your ear. his hands roam over your body, finding purchase on your boobs. he palms them in his large hand, giving them a few squeezes here and there as you flick your fingers over his nipples.

he's grinding his hips on your sopping core, pre leaking from his tip and staining his boxers. he unlatches his lips from yours to quickly shimmy his sweats off and throws them aside before continuing to rub his shaft over your wet clothed cunt.

he gets himself off of you and kneels down in front of the bed, pulling you towards him with your pretty pussy in front of his face. he looks back at the camera, positioning you in a way that makes it so that you're on display. once he's happy with how you are, he runs his fingers over your panties, feeling your wetness. he lets out a content groan before pushing your panties to the side, your glistening core so enticing.

"always so pretty for me," he coos, more so to your pussy than to you. his fingers go up and down your slit a few times which makes you tremble slightly. he smirks to himself as he pushes in one, two digits into you, stretching you out. you moan as he does so, gripping the sheets beneath you while he slides his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace.

he brings his mouth to your core, licking a few slow strips on it, groaning at how sweet you taste. his fingers and tongue work deliciously on your candied core and he's making the most obscene and pornographic noises as he does so. you're mewling cutely as he eats you out, your thighs squishing the sides of his head. "oh yes!," you whine, tugging on his hair. "j-just like that, nana."

'nana.' he finds your nickname for him so adorable that it just has him ravaging on you, spit dribbling from his mouth, drenching what's beneath you. you're squirming and crying out his little nickname, completely blissed out from the pleasure.

nanami has always been so good at taking care of you, it truly boggled your mind when he first ate you out. from then on, you were addicted — yet he was so much more when it came to eating you out. it's as if he lived to serve you.

he feels you clenching around his digits, your moans getting louder and higher, indicating your climax is nearing. "you gonna cum for me, darling?," he purrs, suckling your clit and drinking you all in. your grip on his hair tightens and at this point, you're the one in control, bobbing his head up and down while his flattened tongue is on your sweet core. his eyes peer up at you and he sees your pretty face, moaning out his name as you come undone on his face.

"mmm, always so good f'me," he praises, popping his fingers out of you and placing dove-like kisses along your inner thighs. you're still trembling as you come down from your high and he runs his hands on your thighs to help you calm down.

"ken?," you muse, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. he hums in acknowledgment as he rises from in between your thighs to give you a kiss to your temple, the simple gesture being a way to tell you that you did amazing.

it takes a few moments to get yourself to ask the question — "do you wanna try doing it without a condom?"

his eyes go wide, more pre leaking from his tip and the stain on his boxers growing bigger. he takes in a harsh gulp, the idea of getting to feel you raw around him making him dizzy. "you sure about that, love?," he asks, leaning down to press a trail of kisses on your neck.

"yes, i'm sure," you say breathily, tilting your head to the side so that he has more area to kiss. "i've wanted to try it for a while now."

"okay darling," he says as coolly as he can, trying not to show just how much he's been dying to do this with you. he takes in a deep breath before he removes his boxers, his thick cock slapping against his abdomen, heavy and leaking.

he takes a quick glance at the camera that's still recording you two to see how you look and gosh, you're stunning. "do you want to change the angle of the camera or anything?," he asks, hovering above you.

you contemplate his question for a bit and then a teeny smile crosses your face. he quirks an eyebrow at your expression and he's just about to ask you what you were thinking but you're already getting up from the bed and grabbing the camera from where it was standing. you tell him to lay on his back as you straddle him, the camera still in your hand.

you give the camera over to him and say in your sweet, meek voice, "you can video me. if you like."

he feels his cock twitch at the thought and he agrees in a heartbeat. he turns to the camera to point at you, adjusting it so that it can take you all in. "start whenever you like, sweetheart," he muses, giving you a little thumbs up. the gesture makes you giggle — this dorky man.

you line yourself with his cock which is leaking with pre. you use your thumb to spread it around, making him mewl softly at your touch. the camera is pointing right at your entrance, his wet tip just grazing over it. you slowly lower yourself down on him and the moment you do, both of you moan out at the delicious feeling. you can feel every vein and ridge on his girthy dick and he can feel your warm, syrupy walls suck him in.

"fuck," he hisses, almost losing control of the device in his hands. "'s too good. feels too good."

"mhm," you whine, sinking yourself onto him until he's completely in there. he has to try so, so hard not to cum in you right then and there. you lightly roll your hips against his, intoxicated with how you can feel him all around you. he's letting low grunts, biting on his lips so hard he could bleed. but he just wants to make sure that the camera captures your sweet noises more than his own.

"oh, just like that," he says, one hand now coming to grip your sides to help you move on him. you're letting out such cute noises and your tits are bouncing a little with every movement.

nanami feels like he's losing his mind — he doesn't know if he should look at you directly or look at you through the camera, feeling like he's spoiled for choice; and the way you're squeezing his dick has him nearly rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

you begin to lift your hips up and come crashing down on him, doing it in a steady rhythm. you raise your hips off of him until he's almost all the way out, just his tip inside of you. you stay that way for a few moments before you take him all in again, and that has him groaning prettily as you do so. your walls seem to clench him tighter and it feels all too much for him.

"so beautiful," he coos, pointing the camera to get a glimpse of your cutely contorted face as you moan his name out over and over again.

a blush taints your face, creeping down to your neck as you ride him, the room filling with both of your salacious moans and the smacking of your hips coming down on his own. your hands come to cup your boobs, rubbing over your nipples, your moans louder and needier. he tilts the camera upwards to capture the beautiful view in front of him and he is restraining himself so much, it's beginning to make him feel fuzzy and lightheaded.

"baby," he groans lowly. "can you- can you get on all fours f'me?"

you smile charmingly as you get off of him and comply to his request. you arch your back gorgeously for him, your slick puffy core on display. he groans at the sight, getting up to be on his knees behind you. he films your cute ass, rubbing it and giving it a few spankings that has you jolting forward. sometimes nanami forgets how strong he is.

he takes his free hand, pumping his cock a few times that's smeared with your arousal. he rubs his tip on your dripping slit before pushing himself back into you, letting out a string of curses as he feels your velvety walls mould around his cock. "god, you feel so good sweetie," he grunts, snapping his hips into you.

you lurch forward with each of his rough thrusts, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you. "ken ken ken!," you cry, the most dulcet of moans tumbling from your lips. his hips ram into you — thwack! thwack! thwack! — your ass rippling with each hit and lines of your arousal connecting with the base of his cock.

"such a good girl," he growls, bringing the camera over where you and him meet, capturing the way he ruts into you at a relentless pace. "always such a good girl f'me."

he lifts his head up and his jaw goes slack when he sees what's in front of him. unknowingly, you had positioned yourself to face the mirror where he could see the way your eyes are fluttering and how your mouth is agape as the prettiest moans come out of it.

he raises the camera to shoot the sexy and hot sight before him. oh, he begins to go crazy. his strokes are mean, rough, languid as he videos you from the mirror, completely in awe at how fucked out you look for him. he's sure you don't even know he can see you like this because you're just so dumbed out with the feel of his length inside of you — his fat head kissing your g-spot repeatedly and your velvety walls cinching around him.

"you like that huh?," he grouses and starts to babble mindlessly. "like how i fuck you, don't you? such a pretty little thing for me. taking me so well every time. you take me so well, baby."

"yes yes yes!," you whine out, not even truly taking in everything he's saying because of how deliciously he's fucking you. "you're so good t'me, ken!"

"yes i am," he chuckles with a smug smirk on his face, slamming his hips into yours but the pace sloppier and needier now. he's getting closer to his climax and the way your pussy is fluttering around him, he can tell you are too.

"where do you want me to cum, baby?," he asks, his pace not slowing down in the slightest. it's getting increasingly harder for him to keep the camera steady, to keep videoing you.

"inside please," you wail, arching your back further. an almost guttural groan erupts from deep within his chest as he bang, bang, bangs into you, and soon enough he's unloading into you, painting your walls white with his hot seed. your pussy spasms around his shaft, milking him dry and milking him for what he's worth.

"fuck," he hisses as he pulls out of you. the camera catches your quivering form and how his cum is dripping out of you. he bites his lip at the view. he uses two of his fingers to shove it all back into you, not allowing a drop to go to waste. you whimper adorably as he stuffs you full of himself, your pussy doing its best to suck it all in.

with the camera still in one of his hands, he uses his free one to help you flip over on your back and lets it take you all in — your chest rising up and down as you try to catch your breath and you looking so adorable in your lingerie set despite the sheen of sweat coating your body. "you are so beautiful, my love," he whispers, hand trailing up your body to your face, cupping it gently.

safe to say, whenever nanami is away from you for too long, he always has this little video in hand. he fists his cock so pathetically, just wishing it was you around him instead.

[maskedbyghost]

What’s better than a jealous, possessive Simon? Nothing. Get ready for all the drama and dirty you didn’t even know you needed. cw: jealousy, possessiveness, explicit language, rough sex, dirty talk... MDNI

You didn’t mean anything by it.

Really, you didn’t. Just a harmless laugh at some half-assed joke from one of the new guys on base. He was nervous, awkward, trying to find his footing among a team full of people who didn’t blink twice before throwing themselves into the line of fire.

So you were being nice. You smiled. You touched his arm when he said something funny. You laughed—not even your real laugh, just the polite one. The one that lets people think they’re charming even when they’re not.

But Ghost saw it.

He was halfway across the room, but he saw the way you leaned in, the way your lips curved, the way you let your hand rest on that guy’s forearm just a second too long. His jaw clenched, his arms crossed.

You saw it out of the corner of your eye and figured he was just being his usual silent, broody self. But the look he gave you? That wasn’t just disapproval. That was something else...

You forgot about it after a while. Finished the briefing and headed back to your room. You got halfway through pulling your shirt off when there was a knock—no, a thud—at your door.

You barely had time to register it before the door swung open.

He didn’t wait for permission. Didn’t ask. He just stepped in, shut the door behind him, and locked it.

“Something you need, Lieutenant?” you asked, arching a brow, still standing in your half-unbuttoned pants.

He didn’t say anything. Just stared at you, jaw tight behind the mask, chest rising with slow, controlled breaths. Then he walked toward you, calm and quiet, like he had all the time in the world.

You blinked. “Ghost—”

His gloved hand came up, grabbed your chin—not rough, but firm enough to shut you up.

“You like makin’ other men laugh?” he said low, his voice rough and close.

You swallowed. “It wasn’t like that.”

“No?” He tilted your face toward his. “Could’ve fooled me. Thought I was watchin’ my girl giggle like some fuckin’ schoolgirl over a guy who couldn’t make you come even if you spelled it out for him.”

You snorted nervously, trying to keep it light. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

He leaned in until his mask brushed your cheek. “Next time you flirt,” he growled, “I’ll put a leash on you.”

Your breath caught, and that’s all it took.

He grabbed the waistband of your pants and yanked them down in one smooth motion, spinning you around and pressing you up against the wall. His hand was at the back of your neck, pushing you forward until your cheek was flat against the cold surface.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the sound got caught in your throat when you felt him behind you—already hard, already pressing into you through his gear.

“Ghost—”

“Simon,” he corrected. “You’re gonna say my name when I fuck the brat out of you.”

His hand slid between your legs, rough gloves against bare skin, and you gasped when he touched you—no teasing, no buildup, just dirty, possessive fingers sliding right through your slick, like he’d expected it.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he murmured, voice darker now, lower. “Drippin’ for me while you’re out there laughin’ at other men’s bullshit. You think they could make you feel like this? Think he’d know what to do with a needy little thing like you?”

You whined when he pressed harder, after yanking off his gloves and sliding two fingers inside, curling them deep, rubbing against that spot that made your knees weak.

“Answer me.”

“N-no, he wouldn’t,” you breathed out, already shaking.

“That’s right.” He pulled back just long enough to undo his belt, shove his pants down, and drag your hips back against him. “You’re mine. Been mine. Just forgot for a second. S’right—I’ll remind you.”

You moaned when he pushed in, when his cock stretched you open without warning, just thick, hard, possessive pressure that made you arch your back and grab at the wall for something to hold on to.

He groaned behind you, one hand fisting in your hair, the other wrapped tight around your throat. “Fuckin’ tight,” he muttered. “Can feel how wet you are—fuck, bet you were thinkin’ about me when he made you laugh. Bet you were hopin’ I’d get like this. Mean. Messy. Jealous.”

You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t breathe past the way he was fucking into you, deep and rough, hips slamming into yours with every thrust like he wanted to fuck the memory of that other guy right out of your body.

“Let me catch you lookin’ at someone else again,” he said, teeth at your shoulder, biting down hard enough to bruise. “I’ll make sure they know who you belong to. I’ll fuck you in front of him if I have to. Let him watch you come on my cock while you scream my fuckin’ name.”

“Simon—fuck—”

“Yeah, that’s it. Say it again.”

“Simon—please—”

“Please what?” he snarled, snapping his hips harder, angrier, dragging every inch of him out slow before slamming back in like he needed to ruin you.

“Please don’t stop,” you gasped, fingers scrambling at the wall, legs shaking.

“Wasn’t planning on it. Not until you learn your fuckin’ lesson.”

He reached around, rubbed your clit in tight, messy circles, just enough to send you spiraling. You came with a cry, body locking up, trembling around him, and he didn’t stop—not even when your legs gave out. He held you up, kept fucking into you with punishing pace, chasing his own release like he had something to prove.

“Gonna fill you up,” he groaned, voice ragged now. “I’ll fuck you so full you’ll be leaking for hours—so every step you take reminds you who fucked you stupid.”

You whined, barely able to keep upright, and with one last thrust he buried himself to the hilt and came with a low, filthy growl, his hips jerking against you as he emptied inside.

He didn’t pull out. He just stayed there, chest heaving, hands still on your hips, like he couldn’t let go.

After a long pause, he leaned in and said, right against your ear:

“Do it again, and I’ll make sure the whole base hears what you sound like when you’re mine.”

-------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6

[greengoblinswifey]

Beneath Chaos—Hwang In ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— amid the deadly Squid Game, you form a forbidden bond with Young-il, a married man. one night after lights out, seeking comfort, you ask him to stay by your side and things escalate.

warnings— no spoilers, age gap(reader is in her 20s, young-il is in his 40s), infidelity, oral(f!receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— for the newbies, y/n in all my stories is black but ofc, everyone can read <3 also this man has so many names, omfg.

Part II

The games had taken their toll on everyone. The latest round had been especially brutal, dead bodies across the arena, screams still ringing in your ears even after hours. Everyone was on edge, fear settling deep into their bones as they huddled in their corners of the dormitory, too paranoid to sleep.

You sat in the dim light, knees drawn up to your chest, trying to quiet your breathing. You glanced over to the group you had managed to stick with, Gi-hun, Jung Bae, Dae-ho, the rest and—Young il.

Your gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. He was older, quiet, and deliberate in his actions, his face lined with age and attractiveness. There was a steadiness to him, even in the chaos of the games, that drew you in despite your better judgment. You knew he had a wife, he had mentioned her being in the hospital when the group shared snippets of their lives. But the magnetic pull you felt toward him was undeniable.

The sleeping quarters was cold, the hum of fear in the air. You hesitated before shifting closer to him. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He turned to you, his expression calm but questioning. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, feeling foolish for even asking. “Can you—can you stay beside me tonight? I just, um, I don’t feel safe.”

He regarded you for a moment, his dark eyes scanning your face. Then, after a beat of silence, he nodded. “Alright.”

Relief washed over you as he moved closer, sitting beside you on the thin mattress. The proximity made your heart race, but you told yourself it was just the stress of the situation.

Hours passed, and the room slowly quieted as people succumbed to exhaustion. You and Young-Il lay on your sides, facing each other. The dim light cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the lines etched into his skin.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

You blinked, startled. “Like what?”

“Like I’m the answer to whatever you’re feeling right now,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.

You flushed, breaking eye contact. “I’m sorry. I know you’re married. I shouldn’t—”

“Shh,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours. “Let’s just forget everything for a moment.”

Your breath hitched as he moved closer, his face inches from yours. His lips brushed yours, hesitating at first, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, but the weight of everything unsaid between you made it feel electric.

You pulled back suddenly, guilt flooding you. “I can’t. This isn’t right. You have a wife—”

“Don’t think about that right now,” he interrupted, his voice a low murmur. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Just stay with me.”

His lips captured yours again, this time more insistent. The kiss deepened, a hunger building between you as the world outside faded away. His hands roamed down your body and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth. Your breath came in shallow gasps as he moved lower, his hands gripping your hips firmly. When he reached the waistband of your sweatpants, he paused, looking up at you for permission.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with both desire and restraint.

You nodded, unable to form words, your heart pounding in your chest.

With deliberate care, he tugged down your sweats and underwear, his lips pressing gentle kisses along your thighs as he did. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with awe.

With his eyes locked on yours, his head lowered between your legs. His lips captured your bundle of nerves, sucking softly as a soft gasp left your lips. You pressed them together, not wanting to wake anyone to see what was taking place. His tongue flicked your clit sending more pleasure than you had ever felt throughout your body, making you shiver.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured between your legs.

You nodded frantically, fingers lacing in his silky hair as he continued feasting on your pussy. His tongue glided from your hole back up to your clit then down again. He circled your hole, letting his tongue slip inside as he collected your juices on his tongue. Your free hand clamped over your mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet as he slipped a finger inside your pussy.

Your back arched from the bed as his skilled finger curled and his tongue sucked on your clit with ferocity.

“You’re doing so well, cum for me, cum on my tongue and my fingers,” he whispered.

Your fingers curled into the thin blanket beneath you as he continued, each flick of his tongue and thrust of his finger sending shivers down your spine. His movements became overwhelming and you pressed your lips together tightly as an intense orgasm washed over you making your back arch from the small bed.

“That’s it, good girl, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

In that moment, the fear and chaos of the games melted away, leaving you wanting more. You trembled beneath him, breathless and aching, your skin tingling from the intensity of his tongue. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the dormitory. “I need more. Please.”

He stilled, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for something. “Are you sure?” he murmured.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes,” you whispered, your lips brushing his ear as your fingers gripped his shoulders.

His lips curved into a soft smirk, his hands sliding up your sides. “Then beg for it,” he said, his voice low and commanding, with dominance you hadn’t expected.

Your cheeks burned, but the desperation in your chest won out. “Please,” you murmured, your voice soft but trembling with need. “Please, Young-il, I need you. I need you to fuck me.”

“As you wish,” he interrupted. He shifted to sit back on his knees, his hands deftly tugging his sweats and boxers down. He watched your reaction as he freed his hard cock, his gaze heavy.

“Look at you,” he murmured, one hand stroking over your hip as his other lined himself up at your leaking entrance. “So perfect, so beautiful. I don’t deserve this, but, God, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

You gasped as he pressed his cock into you slowly, his whispered praises filling the space between you. “That’s it,” he encouraged, his hand braced beside your head. “You’re doing so well. So tight, so perfect for me.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts measured and deliberate. The quiet around you made every sound amplified, the soft rustle of sheets, skin slapping, the hitch in your breath, and his murmured words of adoration. “Cum for me,” he whispered into your ear, his voice cracking with need. “Do it, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You cried out softly, your hands clutching him as you surrendered, your body shuddering against his as your pussy gushed on his raw cock. He held you through it, his touch firm and grounding.

Moments later, he shifted, his body warm and solid beside you. “I’m not done with you,” he murmured, lifting your leg over his hip as he slid into your throbbing cunt.

The angle made you gasp, your hand flying to his arm as he held you close. “You’re f-fucking me so good,” you managed, your voice breathless.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Stay with me. Feel everything, just like this. You’re perfect, you hear me? Perfect.”

Your breaths mingled as he began pounding into you harder and the rhythm grew more intense, both of you trying to hold back the sounds that threatened to escape. His lips pressed against your ear. “Cum with me,” he urged, his voice a broken whisper. “Cum on my cock as I cum inside you, sweetheart.”

You clung to him as your orgasm took ahold of you once more, the world fading away as waves of warmth washed over you. His grip tightened, and his soft groan against your skin coupled with the feeling of his cum filling your pussy were the only confirmation you needed that he’d joined you.

When the high ended, he rolled onto his back, pulling you against his chest. His lips pressed gentle kisses along your hairline, your forehead, your cheeks. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmured, his voice soft and tender. “You’re going to get out of here. I promise.”

You nestled against him, his arms wrapped securely around you, the fear and chaos of the games momentarily forgotten.

[sugarwarachan]

touchstarved!midoriya who has notebooks full of scenarios planning out how to talk to you: what foods you like, the books you’re reading, literally anything just so he has ammunition to talk to you

touchstarved!midoriya who asks everyone for advice on how to win you over (except for you bless his heart), endures hours of Bakugou giving advice yelling at him

touchstarved!midoriya who actually feels his brain leak out of his ears when you hug him goodbye, cums later that night to the mere memory of your tits pressed up against his chest

touchstarved!midoriya who is the definition of feral as soon as he has permission to touch you, snarling into your mouth and biting your lips before sinking down on the floor and attacking your cunt like his life depends on it

touchstarved!midoriya whose ears turn beet red when you tell him how good he’s making you feel

touchstarved!midoriya who memorizes every gasp, whimper, and sigh that comes out of your mouth, has to make sure his pretty girl feels amazing even if his weeping cock is jumping against the front of his pants for attention

touchstarved!midoriya who cums seconds after you start stroking him, blushing and stammering, “fuck fuck, baby, i’m sorry, you just feel so good - i’ll make it up to you next time, yeah?”

a/n: yall were hungry for this green-eyed baby. other touchstarved!boys here