#barely proofread idc

[newrochellechallenger2019]

line cook!art who makes you hold his cigarette while he's fucking you because it's 'easier'... hmmm........ hm....................

ava i could kiss you right now...thank you...

a ticket.

"your place or mine?" scrawled on the back of table 49's order in his familiar handwriting. you'd been wondering when this 'invitation' would appear, ever since you'd caught art's eye as he leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen, his arm muscles flexed. you'd heard the rumours, the warnings from other servers when you'd started, "don't ever sleep with the line cooks!" "are you crazy? it'll fuck up the whole job!" but art was different from the other line cooks, he wasn't some constantly hungover teenager or the 50yr old man who you were 99% sure sold drugs on the side. so, you started rolling up your skirts just a little higher, leaning over the counter just enough that your boobs pushed up in the right way and it worked. art noticed, and he reciprocated, leaving you leftover fries or hashbrowns on the side of the kitchen, for which you were incredibly grateful.

"yours" you scribble back hastily with a smile on your face, walking back to the kitchen, making some excuse about forgotten items on the ticket to the other servers eyeing you suspiciously as you pass by, handing the order back to art, who just offers a small, innocuous nod in response.

art's waiting for you when you clock out, leaning against a car that must be older than either of you, arms folded across his chest in a way that makes the muscles bulge yet again and you fight the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl at the sight. your eyes drift back to the car to distract yourself, noting the dented wing mirror and scratched doors.

'grandma's.' he offers as a curt response to his old car before you even open your mouth to ask.

you nod awkwardly, 'how is she?' you say out of bumbling politeness.

'she died.' he shrugs, though you note the flicker of grief in his eyes when he says it.

'i'm sorry.' you mumble sympathetically, holding his gentle gaze.

art looks away from you at that, running his hand through his unkempt hair and opening the passenger door. you take the hint and scurry over, slipping into the seat and he winks at you as he shuts the door, back to the art you knew.

he walked round and got in the driver's seat, the car spluttered to life and he put his arm round your headrest to see if he could pull out safely and you blush, unbeknownst to you he spots the pink dusting your cheeks and smirks.

the journey to his place is fairly silent and outside your window the bustling city centre is slowly fading into downtown, the streets getting quieter and more deprived. art's humming beside you, tapping his calloused fingers against the steering wheel in tune to some rock band cd you don't know.

pulling into a backstreet, an apartment building slowly comes into view as art parks deftly, car creaking slightly as he does. he gets out the car and comes round to open your door, and you step out, his arm going round your waist protectively as he ushers you into the building.

'elevator broke weeks ago' he mutters, shaking his head in disappointment as you glance at the taped up silver doors and back at the steep staircase. art seemed to realise your fear and nudged you playfully, 'don't worry baby, i'm only on the first floor.'

baby. that pet name sent shivers down you spine and you struggled to keep your composure as you nodded in acknowledgement before the two of you climbed the stairs, his arm encircling your waist even tighter.

'welcome...' art grins as he turns his jangling keys in the lock, '...to Casa Donaldson' he jokes, stepping inside the apartment with his arms outstretched.

it was crappy, no other way to describe it. a dimly lit studio apartment with a few standard kitchen counters on your left, a minuscule bathroom to your right and just beyond the kitchen island is his bed, the bed. you're surprised it even has a bedframe based on how bare the rest of the place is.

art steps back towards you, cutting the impromptu judgemental tour in your head short. he's taller but not by much, just enough for him to tilt your chin to face him, a flirtatious smirk on his face as he looks you up and down. 'now...where were we?' he leans down, blue-green eyes closing as he press his lips to your supple ones.

you gasp into the kiss, melting into the feeling as he pulls you closer, your bodies moulding into one. at some point the kisses grow hungry, tongues colliding between parted mouths, and your back hits the door as art cages you in. 'you're so hot baby' he murmurs between hot kisses, fingers unbuttoning your white work blouse. 'c'mon doll show me those pretty tits of yours' he growls against your neck, his hands snaking down to your bra and pushing your chest up and you whine. 'you like showing these off huh? tryna get my attention that badly?' he taunts as he unclips your bra, 'mmph...yes...' you pant, your hands roaming all over his body desperately.

'well...you've got it' he grunts, his hands slipping under your thighs and lifting you so you have no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist, feeling the bulge in his trousers start to grow. he drops you unceremoniously on the bed, lifting your hips to slide your work skirt off and reveal your lacy panties. 'wearing these for me too?' he teases with a devilish smirk, finger slowly running up the fabric and you squirm, 'art-'. wordlessly, he slides the panties off your legs and tosses them onto the wooden floors of his apartment, his own trousers and boxers following suit. he leans back down and captures your lips in a ravenous sloppy kiss, before pulling away. 'c'mere doll' he says, crooking a finger and you sit up, surprised. 'here.' he repeats, patting his lap, his cock standing to attention.

you shuffle over towards his lap under his watchful eye, and he grips your hips, lifting you onto his cock. you feel the tip start to penetrate you and you squeak, 'that's it...' he purrs encouragingly as you sick down on his cock. it's big and you can feel it stretching your walls and you moan, 'ngh- oh-' until you bottom out and art groans, throwing his head back, 'fuck...yep...good girl...' he says through gritted teeth. your brain short circuits at 'good girl' but you remember something about coconut so you slowly start to move on his lap and art's breath comes in short pants, hands gripping your hips so hard you know they'll be marks left there tomorrow.

however, it doesn't take long before art starts to get bored, your movements not creating any stimulation for him. he reaches down and grabs a cigarette from the jacket crumpled on the floor beside the bed and you still, 'did i-?' 'one sec baby' he interrupts you, thumb flicking at a lighter as the cigarette catches flame, he takes a long drag and breathes out a plume of smoke whilst you stare at him in shock. 'could you hold this for me doll?' he smirks, slipping the cigarette between your teeth and you cough in surprise, smoke spluttering from your mouth. 'thank you' he pats your cheek mockingly before his hands return to your hips, 'now...baby...may i help? he croons and you nod dumbly.

art starts to lift his hips up into you and you gasp, his tip hitting your gspot roughly, 'mm-ngh-' comes art's moans as you flop around like a ragdoll in his lap as he repeatedly rams into that spot that makes you see stars from below. 'oh! oh!' you shriek, as art leans in and takes the cigarette from your mouth with his own, inhaling smoke with pleasure. you clench around him and he moans, 'oh baby-hughh- that's- yeah-' as he feels himself nearing release. his lifting hips become more erratic as he continues to pump into you, 'i'm- uh- fuck- i'm gonna-' is all he can manage before he's shooting his load into your tight pussy and you gasp, eyes wide as you feel his seed fill you and that action is enough to cause you to clench around him, 'art please- please-' you burble as you cum on his cock, draining ever last drop from him as your juices swirl with his own. you rest your head on his shoulder as you come down from the high, both of you panting in unision. 'please tell me you're on birth control' he pants and you nod meekly, 'oh thank god' he murmurs, slowly helping you off his cock and into the bathroom, seeing your own slick coating your thighs and smirking with pride.

you're awoken the next morning by an empty space beside you and the sound of cooking. you open one bleary eye and see art stood at the kitchen island. he winks at you 'and here i thought i'd killed you with my mega cock' he laughs and you groan, turning your face away and hiding in the sheets in shame. there's a creak as he sits down on the bed beside you and holds out a plate, 'grilled cheese?'.

tags: @blastzachilles @s0ftcobra @femme-lusts @glennussy @cha11engers @stanart4clearskin

[jinglejanglejinglejongle]

Temperance shifted his head in thought as he carefully tilted the egg in his palms. Surely this was an angel egg, right...? It had to be. There was no other way it could be possible for this to be a human egg. The weight felt indifferent, and the shape was nonetheless the same. The Gaslight District was full of unknowns and mishaps, but this was different.

He gently laid the egg on the table atop the bundled cloth he prepared beforehand and began to ponder. If this news went out of town, it would surely cause chaos. A human amongst the undead was as good as a fresh apple waiting to be devoured by worms. Why was it him out of everyone who was entrusted with such this precarious job? Ah, right. Because he would not dare defy their orders and the obsession with the prophecy. But mostly, it was Ken.

He sighed and shook his head, getting rid of wandering thoughts. Got to go back to the usual routine. Temperance adjusted the thermalight positioned onto the egg and flicked the switch by the tip of his finger.

As soon as he saw the shape within the egg, he gasped and fell onto the floor. Shock engulfed his senses as his brain dared to deny what he had discovered. That... was not an angel. The form of a round head, body and lack of wings made it true that it was undeniably human. And worse, the prophecy has clearly stated that the black-blooded human was born from an angel's egg once every ten thousand years.

"Oh God..."

Temperance gripped his head in anguish.

The prophesid human was in his lab.

The human that will bring destruction to the Gaslight District.

[roastedoatmilk]

Arcane Women Strap Hcs

characters: sevika, vi, caitlyn, mel, ambessa

A/N barely proofread sorry, also my first time writing for arcane please be kind 🙈 i hope y’all enjoy lmk your thoughts :)

Sevika

first things first she has a dark purple strap i’m talking almost the same color that shimmer is and boy does she know how to use it

whenever she pulls the strap out be prepared to not be able to walk the next day

she prefers to fuck you in missionary but if she had to choose a different position it would be fucking you from the bottom, she just loves to be able to see your face while she pleasures you

her strap game is DIABOLICAL, she always makes sure to hit that spot inside you that makes you let out a squeal and causes your toes to curl

honestly she could just cum from fucking you alone but if you feel up to it once she’s done with you she loves when you eat her out after

“that’s it baby, you’re taking me so well just a little more”

Vi

vi screams black strap to me like it just makes sense

she prefers to fuck you slow and DEEP, i’m talking girly lifts your hips off the bed and grips them so hard that you can feel bruises form

shes so cocky about it too like she knows she’s good

vi’s another one that could cum from pleasuring you alone and 9/10 times she does, however the one time she doesn’t she will literally sit on your face once you’re well enough to take care of her

“that feel good pretty girl ? yeah i know it does, you’re always so good for me”

Caitlyn

dark blue strap sorry yall i don’t make the rules

caitlyn loves when you’re on top and she’s fucking you from below

she revels in the sight of you falling apart above her while she’s gripping your hips guiding you

she’s 100% a brat tamer and you can’t tell me any different

“oh darling is it too much ? you shouldn’t have behaved like that if you didn’t want me to fuck you like this”

Mel

HEAR YE HEAR YE she has a gold strap idc idc

mel also likes it when you’re on top however she prefers to gently guide your movements while she praises you

don’t let that mislead you tho shes a HUGE tease

she can and will make you edge yourself until you’re literally crying begging her to let you cum

“ my love you look so beautiful when you ask nicely like that, go ahead and take what you need”

Ambessa

ruby red strap that’s all imma say

the cruelest of the bunch, she’s not afraid to leave you dry while she takes what she needs

another brat tamer yall you love to see it

she doesn’t make love she FUCKS, be prepared to constantly be buying new headboards

she makes you suck on her strap NEXTTTTT

“sweet girl did you think i’m finished with you ? no no we aren’t done until you can’t remember anything but my name”

[aomiiine]

HE LOVES HIS OFFICER!

𐔌  .   𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆  ୧ ──── PRAEDATOR! SYLUS + ENFORCER! FEM READER

W☆RNINGS. N!SFW/MDNI (18+) — cockhead pinching, hate fucking vibes, orgasm denial/orgasm delay, cock ring, handjob, cock slapping (once), feral sylus, tame(?) bdsm-ish vibes, restraints (chains obv), a bit predator/prey dynamic, slight praise kink (reader), might be ooc sylus but idc lol, switch m & f, overstim, hints of corruption (sylus -> you), quite heavy degradation (reader to him & him to reader. ie; slut, bitch, animal, etc.), that tongue scene lmaoaoa, kind of (not canon) improvised lore at the end, ‘kitten’ is used twice i think, all smut no plot, not proofread wordcount is 1.7k edited to 1.9k

TAGLIST. @tinycatharsis @jellysix @wonryllis @tsukkisukkii @wonuwuuuuu

author’s comment. thinking ab making a small event for valentines day w the lnds guys based on the new banner.. tell me what u think abt this one though! also, this is just me exploring these kinks so pls pardon me if they aren’t well written :’) Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated !! <3

“As if the frenzy enhancer wasn’t enough, you had to put a fucking cock-ring on me when I’m already this fucking hard, you slutty minx.”

Chains clanged and rattled from Sylus’s writhing, hands balling to fists in his attempt to yank the metal cuffs off him. It was in vain, of course, but you couldn’t blame him. You were tasked to interrogate him by your superior but here you were—absolutely torturing his big cock by denying every single orgasm.

It was almost sad honestly. The way his dick curved to his belly, abs flexing with every ragged breath he took. His tip leaked what seemed to be a steady stream of pre-cum staining his stomach, his arousal making a mess of the white nest on his pelvis, swollen shaft throbbing like a fucking heartbeat in anticipation on what your next move would be.

“The cock-ring was a necessary measure taken for you to speak. Since your mouth wont tell me the information I need, maybe your stupid cock will,” you scoffed at his glower, landing a slap onto his stiff cock, earning yourself a hiss. His teeth gritted and bared at you in obvious agitation from the endless heat running through his veins and the frenzy enhancer.

“Maybe if you stopped being a cruel bitch and let me cum already, I’d fucking speak.”

“Information first, reward later,” you replied swiftly, hand reaching out to wrap around his needy dick, stroking him half-heartedly, not even bothering to pay a sliver of attention to his weeping tip.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“No, thank you.”

Sylus groaned loudly, wrists tugging on the biting metal cuffs hanging over each side of his head. His breath quickened, guttural moans rumbling from his chest from the lazy strokes you gave him.

Sylus felt utterly humiliated that he was being so damn sensitive at the weak jerks of your soft palm around his slick cock, his hips rolling to fuck into your fist. His ego was bruised, but he wasn’t one to dwell on it. Instead, he’d like to move on and have you kiss fuck it better.

“Do you not know how to stroke a cock, kitten? Is my little enforcer a virgin?” Sylus’s voice was low and husky when he spoke, hands relaxing on the chain to lean down forward, his large and tall frame looming over your smaller one just before you could retaliate his remark.

The shadow sylus’s figure casted over yours was undeniably intimidating—especially so when his nearly crazed eyes gleamed at you in a predatory gaze. His head dipped closer to yours, stray strands of his white hair falling over his eyes as he searched for your irises.

It took every will in your body to not flinch, refusing to show him a single shred of weakness to exploit. Except, Sylus merely grinned at your bravado, tongue darting out to lick his lips as if he was staring at prey.

“Scared of a little proximity, my dear enforcer?” The mockery in his voice grated at your nerves, your features contorting into a grimace on instinct.

“You animal,” you seethed, grasp on his cock tightening to a point bordering on pain. Your praedator gasped sharply, leaning away to throw his head back in relief when you began stroking him, fast.

Every deliberate flick of your wrist brought hot white pleasure to his strained body, eyes closing shut with nothing but deep, drawn out groans leaving his throat. The chains began rattling against, muscles flexing with effort when he felt himself nearing an explosive orgasm.

“Yes— oh fuck, yes, make me cum, you dirty bitch,” he grunted in a near whimper, hips rocking upward uncontrollably when your hand began focusing on his crown. Your index finger and thumb created a circle around the head to stimulate his glans continuously, pads of your fingers purposely rubbing over the sensitive frenulum.

“Calling me a bitch when you’re the begging to cum like a manwhore,” you tsked disapprovingly, quickening your strokes while your glared intense at his deep red cock, the cock-ring tight on his base to keep him rock hard.

You didn’t miss the way his slit continued to leak, his arousal betrayed by the way he kept producing natural lube for you to use. “At least I’m honest—agh—fuck! I wanna cum so bad, baby, please,” Sylus stammered, head hung low with droplets of sweat falling down his flushed skin.

You considered showing him mercy at his plea, truly. His cock was throbbing around your fingers, balls drawn up tight to his body with pent up cum—why couldn’t you just let the poor man cum his brains out already?

“I don’t know.. I’m not getting the information I want,” you uttered teasingly, not truly contemplating the thought. Even if you did, the answer would always fall on ‘no’.

You could see how Sylus was on the edge of cumming with how his legs quivered subtly, abdomen muscles flexing and relax with each stroke. His cock was steaming hot in your hand, warm with fresh cum flowing up to his shaft. Yet just moments before he was about to release, your ministrations ceased, two fingers stopping just below his glans to pinch his sensitive flesh, forcefully halting his orgasm.

“Motherfucker—I was just about to fucking cum all over your uniform, you—” he snarled, nostrils flaring with every intake of breath. His nose scrunched up briefly in pure infuriation, eyes closed as he leaned his head back, the corners of his lips twitching to a smile.

“When I get out these chain, kitten, I’ll get back at you so fucking good, you’ll be crippled for weeks,” he huffed in a scoff before punctuating his threat with a harsh tug on the metal cuffs restraining him to the metal bars of the cage, the chains clattering loudly. His throat was stretched and exposed for you to see, skin glistening with perspiration and Adam’s apple bobbing.

The sudden motion startled you, sending your heart beating faster than it already was. Your assigned praedator was unhinged, you knew that much from his files—but you didn’t expect him to be this unhinged.

Despite that, it sent your heart racing rather than falling into the pit of your stomach. You felt excited, fucking thrilled even. Your pupils dilated as if you just found your fix, like a cat setting its sights on its newest toy.

“Mmhm, sure,” you muttered with a faint yet noticeable tremble to your voice. It caught Sylus’s attention in an instant.

the sweat sheened praedator finally lifted his head, tilting to the side with intrigue glinting in those crimson irises. “Are you liking this, kitten?” He said with his now hoarse voice, smirk stretching more than it should. “‘S that why you decided to make this cage for me? Using this place as your personal sex dungeon? Yeah, I see it. The eyes of the depraved.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed with sadistic glee, no doubt pounding with satisfaction at the thought of corrupting his righteous enforcer and throbbing with an ongoing orgasm, cock still held in place by yours unwavering fingers.

It took you a moment to regain your composure, still reeling from the shot of adrenaline he gave you. Eventually, you caught yourself again, inhaling deeply before dropping your eyes to his cock between your digits, shaft still pumping with kept cum.

With a bite of your tongue, you released him of punishment, letting his cum spurt out onto his stomach in ropes.

”yesyesyesss— mmph, god fucking damn it!”

His balls pulsed with his length as thick, hot stuttering streams of semen dripped to the floor, your hand not hesitating to wrap around his girth, pulling his stiff dick towards you and letting his cum make white messes on your dark coloured uniform.

“There, I let you cum.” You spoke sounding just as winded as Sylus who was basking in the mind-numbing relief of emptying his balls to the fullest after accumulating it all in his cock for what felt like hours.

“You did.. Yes, you did, you good girl,” he slurred, no doubt basking in the afterglow shameless, hips thrusting shallowly into your hand for the slightest bit of friction.

A brow twitched when you heard him call you good girl all of the sudden. Your lashes batted at him, lips parted in surprise until your head dipped once more, averting your gaze.

The cock-ring at the base of his dick was slid off him, his body chasing your heat as you pulled away and tucked his cock back into his pants, zipping him back up. You allowed him slump bonelessly with his hands tied up above his head, leaving him panting for air.

He must’ve said it ‘cause he was drunk of the high, not because he meant it, was a mantra you repeated in your mind to convince yourself. Regardless, you couldn’t deny how it sent goosebumps up your nape, hair standing at attention, couldn’t deny how a single fleeting praise made your throat go dry and breathing quicken.

“I expect full cooperation tomorrow morning, Sylus.” you blurted, focus moving back to him before you backed away a few steps and stormed out his cage, locking it securely behind you.

You practically sped walked out the prison underground, heading straight to the elevator leading back up to your office.

Once you were in the metal box, you fished for a handkerchief in your pocket, frantically using it to wipe the stains of his seed on the front of your uniform.

With quivering hands, your rubbed it off you the best you could to fade the colour so you could excuse it a spill of chemicals or something to your colleagues—even if that wasn’t what really happened.

Your little rendzvous with a praedator—a SSS ranked dangerous praedator at that—risked more than your job. You yourself could be detained for being suspected of having intercourse with a praedator. You’d be an experiment, again, for researchers to exploit if sex could turn you into a praedator.

But unfortunately, deep down, you knew you’d come back to him again. After all, nothing intoxicated you more than dancing with that red eyed devil tied up at your mercy.

Finally reaching your office floor, you got off the elevator, walking in a bee line past your busy colleague, eyes on the ground to avoid contact with any of them. You didn’t know if you could handle speaking or explaining (lying) about your situation to anyone right now.

you pulled on the back of your chair, taking a seat and immediately holding your head in your hands, rethinking your life choices—the one where you decided to change your occupation from Hunter to Enforcer. Your hands slid down your face, eyes falling to the handkerchief, a reminder of your earlier affair.

Only then did the events dawn on you, your entire body processing the audacity and brazen display you showed Sylus. Now you crumbled in the solace of your safe space away from his predatory gaze.

A hand came up to your mouth, lips capturing a finger to nibble on when your thighs rubbed against one another, making you realise how fucking drenched your panties were. That damn praedator had you this wet in a rut without laying a finger on you—how pathetic of you.

One thing was for sure, you’d call in leave early to rub this compiled arousal off quick—it didn’t matter if you had to wet your sheets with cum, you needed this feeling gone, asap.

[yoyomomiko]

omg you should definitely talk more about marking daisuke and the other way around 🙂‍↕️ i would love to mark him up

Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader

Warnings: BITING; marking, hickeys, SUGGESTIVE (nsfw but not fully, so I guess mdni??), praising kink, small mention of dirty talking, small mention of bottom, submissive and soft dom Daisuke, cringe, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

(A/N): I was so embarrassed to write this but like UGH I'm obsessed with Daisuke so badly rn it's insane😣 Also I'm so sorry this is kinda short and rushed😢 -> m.list

★MARKING HIM

You have to hold a hand over his mouth, he won't shut up. He's whining and making so many noises❗

He's not really that much into you marking him, but he surely won't mind one bit

Leave a trail of hickeys and watch him PANIC.

He's so scared that somebody (Swansea) is gonna notice, and then scold him and also possibly you too😔

Imagine the look on his face while he realizes you left marks

IMAGINE PRAISING HIM WHILE YOU'RE NIPPING AT HIS SKIN THOOO

"You're doing so good for me," "Shit, mm, uh-huh..."

Sitting on top of him in one of your rooms and kissing him, leaving dark red marks trailing from his neck to his chest

He doesn't know how to cover them up, you gotta help him🥲

Like, he's gonna have something around his neck and when Swansea asks about it he's like

"Oh, you know, fashion."

He asks you not to mark him too high up because he's scared😔

Overall he enjoys it, not too into receiving from you but if you like it then he's all for it🙌

★MARKING YOU

Boy oh boy😍

When I tell you to get ready, to prepare yourself fully, then do it. Take a break, stare at the invisible camera for a second and then go back to reading.

UGH Daisuke is so fucking IN FOR IT

He loves loves LOVES giving them to you, he's so into it, it boosts his ego to see you all marked up by him🙏

Will gently kiss your skin before completely BITING into you, leaving so many dark purple marks over your neck and shoulders

Thinking about sitting on top of the desk in the utility room while Swansea is having his lunch break, making out with Daisuke, his lips all over your skin, leaving hickeys everywhere (might write a fic about this)

If you let even the slightest noise escape your mouth, he's gonna take it as a "go on"

Bottom Daisuke this, Submissive Daisuke that, WHAT ABOUT SOFT DOM DAISUKE??

Imagine just cuddling with him at night and he just buries his face in your shoulder. You think it's a cute gesture until you feel a slight sting and realize he's nipping at your skin (also might write a fic about this)

He's gonna gently kiss the hickeys he left on you to soothe you, he's just sweet like that😋

If you like it, TELL HIM.

"Am I doing good?" "Yes, very good-"

You can barely even talk because he's digging his teeth into you so much

He's gonna ask if he's doing good in between kisses just because🫶

Did I mention he's not big on dirty talking? I mean, he does it accidentally sometimes, but he just cringes whenever he tries.

BUT HE'S BIG ON PRAISING SO😝

CALL HIM A GOOD BOY WHILE AT IT

Will also leave full on teeth marks, just a heads-up, he's a vampire❗

Overall he likes giving marks more than receiving

"It's not accurate, that's not how Daisuke would be!!" idc these are MY headcanons so shoo😠

★yoyomiko ★miko

[deansbeer]

presenting ╱ mess made for me.

featuring ദ soldier boy ⨯ fem!reader.

RATED R. minors look away.

caution ! smut porn with no plot. dom!ben. spanking. rough sex. manhandling. overstimulation. dirty talk. ben's obsessed. light degradation. praising kink. peepaw takes control. possessiveness.

notepad ! this is not proofread … so i'm gonna post and dip <3 it feels like centuries ago since i wrote for the handsome old feller :') bc he is. idc tho i love me a man decades older than me. a true fact. anyways. gniteee i'm soooo sleepy <3 ilysm muaaah !

he leans back against the headboard, legs spread wide, arms behind his head like he's got all the time in the world. the cocky smirk on his face only grows when you straddle him, your thighs already trembling from how many times he's made you come tonight.

"c'mon, sweetheart," he drawls, green eyes glinting under the low light. "show me how much you fuckin' missed me."

you grip his broad shoulders for leverage and start to ride him, slow at first, the thick stretch of him making you whimper every time you sink down. he's big — bigger than anyone you've ever had — and he knows it, the bastard. knows exactly how good he stuffs you full, how you can barely take him without working yourself open first.

you move, hips rolling sloppily, and he watches you like a man starved, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. the sound of your slick, the wet little plop every time you drop down onto his cock, fills the room, obscene and raw.

"fuck," he growls, one hand sliding down to grip your ass, giving it a sharp slap that makes you jolt and clench around him. "you hear that, doll? hear how fuckin' wet you are for me?"

you whimper, nodding, trying to keep up the pace, but your thighs are shaking, muscles burning with exhaustion. you're so tired, so wrecked, but you don't want to stop — not when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing in the goddamn world that matters.

"s'tired," you breathe, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

he chuckles low, the sound rumbling through his chest. without warning, he grabs your hips in his big hands and starts bouncing you on his cock himself, using your body like it's nothing, like you weigh less than air.

"poor baby," he says mockingly, voice thick with lust. "thought you could tap out on me? nah. you wanted this — now you’re fuckin' takin' it."

you moan, high and broken, nails digging into his shoulders as he moves you up and down, up and down, the slick sounds getting louder, wetter, filthier. every time you drop, you make that little plop noise he's addicted to, and every time, he groans like he's hearing it for the first time.

"that’s it," he grunts. "fuckin' music to my ears."

his hands leave bruises on your hips, holding you tight, forcing you to take every thick inch of him. he doesn't slow down, doesn't let you catch your breath, just uses you until you're nothing but a crying, whimpering mess on his cock.

"look at you," he growls, tilting his hips up to fuck into you harder, deeper. "bouncin’ on my cock like a good little slut. you love this shit, don't you?"

you nod frantically, tears pricking at your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. your whole body's tingling, every nerve ending lit up like fireworks.

"say it," he demands, giving your ass another hard slap that makes you cry out. "say who fuckin' owns you."

"you," you gasp, voice cracking. "you do, ben—"

"damn right," he snarls, slamming you down harder, groaning when your pussy clenches around him like a vice. "my good fuckin' girl."

your orgasm hits you like a freight train, your body locking up, mouth falling open in a silent scream. he feels it, feels the way you clamp down on him, and it pushes him right over the edge too. he curses under his breath, hips stuttering as he spills inside you, filling you up so deep it’s almost too much.

for a moment, the only sounds are your ragged breathing and the faint, wet noises of your bodies still tangled together. his hands soften against your skin, rubbing slow circles into your hips like he’s grounding you, pulling you back from the edge.

you slump against him, boneless and fucked-out, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest.

your body's buzzing, twitching little aftershocks still running up your spine as you lay slumped on his chest, too wrecked to move. you're half convinced you might just sleep there, with him still inside you, but ben's already muttering under his breath, shifting you gently off him.

"jesus fuckin' christ," he grumbles, sitting up, reaching for a rag from the nightstand without even bothering to pull his boxers back on. "can't even take a good dicking without tappin' out like a rookie."

you whine weakly in protest, but he just huffs a laugh, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back like you're weightless. you can feel his spend dripping out of you, hot and messy against your thighs, and it makes the back of your neck flush.

"look at this shit," he says, wiping at the mess between your legs with rough but careful hands. "fucked you so full you’re leaking all over the goddamn bed."

he's not even mad — not really. you can hear the smugness dripping from every word, can feel it in the way his fingers linger a little too long, wiping you up slow, almost lazy, like he's savoring it.

"told you to stretch," he mutters, tossing the dirty rag onto the floor and grabbing another. "but nooo, you wanted to be a big girl."

you glare at him half-heartedly through your haze, and he smirks, leaning down to kiss your forehead like it'll erase the absolute filth coming out of his mouth.

"don’t gimme that look," he says. "you loved every second."

he's not wrong. you did. you still do, even as he manhandles you like you're made of paper, even as he wipes you clean with way too much attitude.

"next time," he says, tossing the second rag aside and pulling the covers over you like it's a peace offering, "you're gonna be beggin’ me to take it easy."

you snort, voice rough. "no 'm not."

he grins, all teeth, sliding into bed next to you and dragging you against his chest again, like he needs you there, needs to feel your skin on his.

"we'll see, sweetheart," he murmurs against your hair, voice already gone thick with sleep. "we'll fuckin’ see."

and you know he's right.

✸ stamped. @soldiersgirl @titsout4jackles @bluemerakis @beausling @deanswidow @jensenacklesballsack @bejeweledinterludes @blossomingorchids @tinas111 @h8aaz @acaibcwl @faiszt @bluestrd @bruisedfig @deanswifeyy @blue-d @dollyfiles @cupidzbunny @sl33pylilbunny @kamisobsessed @pieandflannel @angelicjackles @samslovebug @fuckedupfate @thesevnthseal @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @honeyyxxbee @lanasgirlfr @suckitands33 @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @pinkitty97 @americanvenom13 ╱ a kissie 𖬺 a warm hug .ᐟ

[slutla]

ROLLED UP ‘N RUINED ! | MARK GRAYSON X FEM READER

warnings: 18+, nsfw, usage of weed, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m), cunnilingus, unrealistic pussy eating, mark tries weed but it doesn’t affect him, mark is kinda subby, outgoing ‘n carefree reader, friends with benefits kinda. whimpering.

summary: you try to teach your friend how to smoke a blunt—instead, you learn something entirely different. wc: 3.1k

an: minors dni. i’ve only done weed once n i greened out horribly so this may not be the best description of a good high lmfao. also idc idc mark a d1 eater, literally nothing could convince me otherwise. not proofread excuse any mistakes.

“Does weed even do anything to Viltrumites?” You don’t look at him when you ask, your fingers working the paper, the grind of leaf and resin between your fingertips. A familiar ritual, slow and practiced. The room is thick with the scent of it, sweet and burnt, though the air between you is heavier with something else.

Mark shifts on the couch, the leather creaking beneath him. “Not sure,” he says, voice easy, weightless. He waits, sprawled like a cat in the sun, his hands loose at his sides. You stride over to him ignoring the mess on the table—scattered lighters, empty glasses, a book neither of you had finished—and hold the thing out to him. His fingers brush yours when he takes it.

“Well,” you murmur, striking the lighter, its flame leaping up, carving out the planes of his face in gold and shadow. “Let’s find out.”

The flame kisses the tip, a slow burn. He inhales—too fast, too much—and then it hits him all at once. A sharp cough tears out of his chest, then another, his whole body jerking forward like he’s been punched from the inside. You watch, amused, arms crossed as he fights against his own lungs.

A small laugh escapes you, light and sharp. “You’re not supposed to rush,” you chide, reaching for the blunt, plucking it from his fingers before he can protest. “Here, let me show you.” Smooth, practiced, you bring it to your lips, inhale slow, let the smoke curl inside you like a secret before exhaling in a soft, languid breath.

Mark glares, still half-choking, half-annoyed. “You could’ve started with that first,” he mutters, eyes red-rimmed, voice caught between confusion and irritation.

“’S not even my fault,” you scoff, sinking back into the couch. “Didn’t know you were gonna try ‘n inhale the thing like its air.”

Mark opens his mouth, then shuts it again, because—yeah. Fair point. He takes the blunt when you pass it back, more careful this time, dragging slow like he’s mimicking you. The smoke unfurls from his lips in thin ribbons, dissipating into the dim light of the room.

He exhales, waits a beat. “I don’t feel anything,” he says, flat, like he’s waiting for the universe to prove him wrong.

You roll your eyes so hard it nearly hurts. He cannot be serious. “No shit,” you mutter. The fact that he doesn’t know how weed works is honestly embarrassing. You would’ve thought Amber—Who’s often at party scenes—might have taught him at some point, but apparently not.

“It’s not gonna work instantly,” you say, settling deeper into the couch. “Well—actually, I don’t even know if it’s gonna work at all, considering you’re basically, like, half alien.” Mark looks at you, head tilting just slightly, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. Then that small, lopsided smirk appears. “You say it like it’s an insult.”

You huff, rolling your eyes, but there’s a twitch at the corner of your lips. “Maybe it is,” you tease, watching the ember glow between his fingers. “Maybe it’s not.”

He takes another drag, the ember burning low, and you shift closer without really thinking about it. Your bare knees brush against his, the fabric of his sweats soft against your skin. It’s a small touch, barely anything, but it feels like something.

Mark glances at you, eyes lidded, curious. You hold his gaze longer than you mean to. You’ve never really looked at him before—not like this. He’s handsome. Not in the obvious way, not in the way that makes people stop and stare, but in a way that sneaks up on you. The way his black hair falls over his forehead, just a couple strays stand out of place. The way the dim light catches the sharp lines of his face.

And he smells good. Even through the thick haze of weed, his scent lingers—earthy, fresh, something clean that sticks in your lungs longer than the smoke does.

“Stop hogging it,” you say, voice edged with faux annoyance. “Just ’cause I’m teaching you doesn’t mean you get to smoke the whole thing yourself.”

Mark chuckles, a low but sweet sound, it settles somewhere deep in your chest. Instead of handing it back, he lifts the blunt to your lips himself, holding it there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You hesitate—just for a second—before leaning in, letting your lips part as you take a slow drag. The heat of the smoke curls in your lungs, thick and heavy, but you’re barely paying attention to that. You’re too aware of the way his fingers hover near your mouth, the way his gaze lingers, watching.

Maybe it’s the weed settling into your bloodstream, slow and syrup-thick, or maybe it’s just plain curiosity—but the thought creeps in before you can stop it.

You know he’s not a virgin. That much is obvious. But has he ever eaten pussy? Like, really eaten it? The kind that isn’t just half-hearted, obligatory foreplay, but something done with intent? With enthusiasm? You’d take him for the type.

The idea lingers, unexpected and distracting. You steal a glance at him—his lips slightly parted, still damp from the last drag, his expression relaxed, almost careless.

“Mark, have you ever eaten pussy?”The words slip out before you even think to stop them.

Mark freezes, eyes wide like you just asked him to solve a math equation with a gun to his head. It’s almost comical—the way his entire body tenses, the way his brain visibly lags trying to process if he really just heard what he thinks he heard.

“What—?” His voice cracks, just a little. “Why—why would you even ask me that?”

You almost lose it right then and there, laughter bubbling up at the sheer horror on his face. Like the thought has never even occurred to him before. Like you’ve just introduced a concept so foreign, so absurd, that his brain is rejecting it outright.

You bite down on your laughter, pressing your lips together to keep it from slipping out. “We’ve been friends for a long time, I’m just curious,” you say, trying to sound casual, like this is a completely normal topic of conversation.

Mark blinks at you, still looking like he’s in the middle of a mental blue screen. He shifts slightly, running a hand through his hair, clearly debating whether he should actually answer or just pretend this never happened.

A few moments of silence pass, thick and heavy between you. Then Mark exhales, sinking back into the couch, his body relaxing again—except for the telltale flush creeping up his ears.

“No,” he admits, voice low, almost begrudging. “I haven’t.”

You hum, nodding like you already knew. Like it makes perfect sense. You pluck the blunt from his fingers, bringing it to your lips with an easy inhale. “See,” you murmur through the smoke, exhaling slowly. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Another beat of silence, the kind that feels like it’s waiting to be broken. And, maybe because you’re high, or maybe because you just can’t help yourself, you push further. “Why not?” You glance at him, head tilting slightly. “You’ve had, what, two girlfriends? And you never ate it?”

Mark groans, tilting his head back against the couch like he wants to sink into it and disappear. “Why are you so invested in this?” You smirk, tapping ash off the blunt. “I’m just saying, statistically, it doesn’t add up.”

“I mean,” he starts, still staring at the ceiling like it’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the room, “I just never really got the chance, I guess.” You blink at him. Never got the chance? How does someone not get the chance? It’s not like his exes would’ve stopped him—if anything, they probably wanted him to. And then you realize.

He’s a superhero. He barely had time to show up to his own girlfriend’s charity drive or whatever that was, let alone explore his sex life. Between saving the world and getting his ass kicked, there was probably never a moment where things could slow down enough for something like that.

You laugh. You don’t even know why you’re laughing, but it bubbles out of you anyway, light and uncontrollable. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the ridiculousness of the conversation, or maybe it’s just him.

And then—before your brain can catch up to your mouth—you say it.

“If you ever want to, you could always practice on me.”

The second the words leave your lips, your whole body seizes with horror. Your once relaxed position vanishes as you jolt upright, hands suddenly restless, fumbling over themselves like they can physically rewind time.

“I meant—like, I meant it—” you stammer, face burning, voice pitching slightly higher. “It was supposed to be comforting!”

Mark finally looks at you, wide-eyed, lips slightly parted like his brain just short-circuited. For a long, agonizing second, he doesn’t say anything. And that somehow makes it so much worse.

Your face is on fire. Actually burning. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck, settling hot behind your ears. And then you make the mistake of looking at Mark—his face, usually so composed, is tinted pink, eyes slightly wide, lips parted like he’s still buffering.

Neither of you say anything.

The silence is unbearable. Suffocating. The kind that stretches so long it starts to feel like a tangible weight pressing down on you. You shift awkwardly, hands gripping your knees, mind running a thousand miles an hour trying to figure out how to backpedal—how to undo whatever the fuck this is.

Will you ever recover from this? Can you?

You consider just getting up and leaving. Walking out of the room, out of the apartment, out of the entire city if you have to. Maybe start a new life. Change your name. Forget this ever happened.

Mark’s head is spinning. Racing. In a thousand years, he’s never—never—thought about you like that.

Sure, you’re beautiful. That was always obvious. The kind of beauty that turns heads without you even trying. But he’s never let his mind go there before. Not with you.

You were carefree, nonchalant, always teasing but never crossing that line. Never someone he associated with anything lewd. But now? Now you’re sitting there, flustered and squirming all pretty, looking at him with wide, nervous eyes like you just realized what you said. Like you’re feeling the weight of it at the same time he is.

And fuck—now it’s in his head.

Mark jerks his head to the side, eyes locked on anything but you. The wall, the cluttered coffee table, the faint swirl of smoke in the air—anywhere that isn’t your face, because if he looks at you now, he knows something reckless is going to slip out.

Something he won’t be able to take back.

And then, because his brain is already working against him, because the weight of your words is pressing down on him harder than he can ignore, he hears himself say—“Is—Is that something you’d like?” The second it’s out, he wants to die.

Because now? Now the silence between you isn’t just awkward. It’s charged. Hanging heavy in the air, thick and hot, impossible to ignore. He can’t see your face, but he feels your reaction. The way your body shifts. The way your breath hitches, just slightly.

Your mind is a mess. A tangled knot of confusion, nerves, and something else—something warmer, heavier, something pooling low in your stomach.

And maybe it’s the weed. Maybe it’s the fact that Mark looks too good right now, all flushed and fidgety, broad shoulders tense like he’s fighting a war inside his own head. Maybe it’s the tension, thick and humming between you, pressing into your skin like static electricity.

Either way, your body reacts before your brain can catch up—nipples tightening under your shirt, thighs pressing together, heat coiling deep in your core. And at this point? It’s probably too late to walk it back.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

The words slip out, smooth and easy, but your heart is pounding. Mark finally looks at you, eyes dark, searching. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches you like he’s waiting for you to take it back. You don’t.

You take a deep breath, then exhale, slow and steady. And for some reason, it’s relieving. Like you just confessed something you didn’t even know you needed to get off your chest.

Your body loosens, the tension in your shoulders easing as you sink back into the couch—only now realizing you had been sitting upright, practically perched on the edge, like your body had been trying to flee before your mind even decided.

Mark moves toward you, his face still flushed, that pretty pink creeping down his neck. He hesitates for a second, shifting awkwardly, then clears his throat—but his voice cracks slightly when he speaks.

“Uh—I’m not sure how this works, so… can you guide me?” He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes for a moment before glancing back at you. “Or, like, tell me if you don’t like it?”

There’s something endearing about it. The way he’s so earnest, so unsure despite everything else he’s capable of. Mark has fought villains, saved lives, survived things most people couldn’t even fathom, but this? This is what makes him nervous. You should be teasing him for it. You want to. But the way he’s looking at you, waiting, wanting to do this right—it makes your heart squeeze a little.

Honestly, you didn’t think he would do it. Despite your frantic panic, you thought after the initial shock that he’d laugh it off, make some awkward joke, maybe shake his head and change the subject. But here he is—kneeling between your legs, eyes flickering between your face and the space between you, his hands hesitating but steady on your thighs.

He drags your shorts off, discarding them aside like shed skin, and there’s your pretty, plush cunt laid bare before him. It’s not his first time glimpsing such a sight, but never this up close. His breath hitches, and he stares. You’re confused—does he not know what to do? Why is he just sitting there, staring? You’re on the verge of speaking when he edges nearer, parting your lips with a slow, deliberate nudge—strings of slick arousal gleaming between them.

You twitch as he eases in, his warm tongue sliding slow and deliberate between your folds, lapping at your pussy with a lazy, filthy drag, savoring every slick drop that clings to you. You’re sweet on his tongue—warm, slick. Maybe it’s too soon to admit, but he already knows he could get addicted to this. Just the taste of you’s got his dick throbbing and hard and his mind all hazy.

You tip your head back into the couch cushion, legs falling wider as he keeps licking at your sloppy pussy like some dog, all messy and eager. He glances up at you, and the sight alone makes him whimper against your slick, swollen pussy. Your head tilted back, lips parted, and glossy, soft little moans spilling from your throat—each one sinking into his skin, making his cock ache.

“You can use your fingers too… if you’d like,” you murmur, intending it as advice, but it comes out more like a command—breathless, needy. He obeys without hesitation, sliding two thick fingers inside you, eager to make you feel good. The way you squeeze around him, warm and wet, makes his breath hitch. He watches, mesmerized, as he pumps them in and out, each withdrawal leaving them glistening with your slick.

“Fuck, ‘s good, you’re doing so good,” you moan, voice breathy and sweet, and Mark swears he could cum in his pants just from that alone. The way you praise him, all soft and desperate, makes his cock throb, aching for relief. He zeroes in on your clit, licking over it before grazing it lightly with his teeth, earning a sharp gasp from you. His thick, calloused fingers follow, circling the sensitive bud with slow, deliberate motions. You’re soaked—coated in his spit, in your own slick—and the weed coursing through your system makes every touch feel twice as intense, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

It’s filthy—the way he’s practically making out with your pussy, sloppy and desperate, like he never wants you to leave his mouth. His tongue flicks and drags, lips sealing around your clit with wet, hungry sucks, and when your hips buck against him, grinding down for more, he just moans into you. His jaw and nose are drenched, slick dripping down his chin, but he doesn’t stop—if anything, he dives in deeper, like he wants to drown in you.

“Tastes so fuckin’ good,” he whines against you, voice muffled by the mess of your pussy. His fingers are still buried deep, pumping into you with a steady, obscene rhythm, while his other hand is stuffed between his legs, rubbing over the aching bulge in his pants. He’s desperate—humping into his own palm like he can’t help himself, like just eating you out is enough to get him off.

“Fuck—” His words are slurred, muffled by the slick between you. “Tastes like you were made for me.”

It’s messy, shameless—the way he devours you, like he never wants to come up for air. His jaw aches, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, just pulls you closer, as if he could disappear into you completely. You grind against his face, chasing the sharp coil tightening low in your belly, and he only urges you on, gripping your thighs, moaning as he lets you use him.

Your moans spill into the thick air, breath hitching as your back arches. “‘M—‘m cummin’,” you mewl, voice high, trembling. The pleasure crashes over you in waves, thighs shaking around his head as you unravel, coating his tongue with your release.

Mark doesn’t stop—not yet. He groans against you, drinking in every last drop, licking and sucking like he’s starved, like he wants to commit your taste to memory. His breath is heavy, uneven, and when he finally pulls back, his lips and chin glisten with you.

His own hand moves frantically, pumping his cock through his pants, desperate, chasing the high that’s been building since he first had you on his tongue. The sounds of your pleasure—the broken whimpers, the way you shake, the way you’ve completely let go for him—send him over the edge. With a sharp, shuddering groan, his hips jerk, and he spills hot and thick into his pants, moaning through it, chest rising and falling in time with yours.

For a moment, the only sound between you is your ragged breaths, the faint hum of satisfaction settling between you both.

That night proved two things: first, that weed clearly has no effect on Viltrumites; and second, that Mark, without a doubt, eats pussy like a starved man.

[aetherraeys]

hands-on lesson

poly!marauders x afab!reader ⊹ 5.5k

direct continuation of visual learner (so no plot) mwah!

cw ⟢ smut 18+ mdni, swearing, lots of kissings, inexperienced!reader, praise, dry humping, fingering, lots of petnames, usage of "pet", aftercare

summary: it started out with a kiss but now youre well and truly in the deep end, and the boys think a hands-on approach is more effective.

a/n: two smuts in a row, no one call me a slut. this sinfully long and theres basically no plot and idc, theyre hot. i feel no shame! without a doubt doing a pt3 bcs this would be like 8k of fucking otherwise not proofread x

“Should we stop, or do you wanna keep learning?”

If your brain was anything other than a gooey mess in your head, you’d have been able to answer him, instead, all you could focus on were the soft kisses that Sirius planted against your skin, eyes shut—basking in his touch.

You’d forgotten he’d even asked when his questioning hmmm reached your ears, inhaling deeply through your nose, searching for the air to support your voice—but when your lips parted to answer, the words couldn’t seem to find their way out. Mind too foggy, the remnants of a shuddering breath falling from you as your response slipped away—the way he worked his way back up your jaw, pecking and nibbling at the skin—your head was all but spinning.

His hands had snuck under the hem of your top, the backs of his nails lightly dragging over the curves at your side, leaving goosebumps in their wake—a harsh shiver running through you, spine forming a delicious arch that made James’ throat dry. And as Sirius’ lips inched closer to yours again, you found yourself instinctively chasing after them, connecting your lips with a quiet, content sigh.

His grin against your lips was positively wolfish, though it didn’t last long—pushing back into the your lips with a feverish want that was palpable, to everyone.

James forcibly rubbed his palms against the fabric of his trouser, restless in his seat as he watched the way your fingers tangled in Sirius’ hair, room filling with your soft mewls—blending so prettily with the low groans you pulled from Sirius’ throat as he tilted to his head to deepen the kiss. James caught a glimpse of Remus, adam’s apple bobbing—gaze locked on the exposed skin of your torso that Sirius had so graciously bared, pads of his fingers dimpling the flesh.

Sirius had a way with his lips, undeniably intoxicating, dizzying you longer you stayed connected, a warmth burning low in the pits of your stomach. He was overwhelming every one of your senses and you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away.

One of Sirius’ hands trailed up, palm resting over your throat, fingertips holding your jaw in place, taking your bottom lip into his teeth as he pulled away, eyes dark and lips stretching into a mischievous grin. Melting into his palm against your neck, letting him tilt your head back to nip at your collarbone again, small pants falling from you.

Words spread between the wet, open mouth kisses pressed to your skin, he huffed out a small chuckle—

”I’ll…take that…as…a yes…”

The quiet content hum you produced was barely a response, but it wasn’t your fault, Sirius had effectively turned your brain to goo and you weren’t going to stop him, savoring the warmth of his lips. He opened his eyes to sneak a peek at you, when his sights fell on James—cheeks almost as flushed as yours. Practically at the edge of his seat, fingers twitching at his sides, and Remus—he was no better. Shifting and fidgeting beside James, lips parted, gaze dark and intense as he watched.

He hadn’t meant to so self-indulgent, but you were all but putty in his hands and Sirius wasn’t going to deny himself such a luxury.

Though, he did feel a bit bad for poor James, he looked like he was about to combust from his efforts to restrain himself and remain seated.

Letting the hand that was delicately wrapped around your neck drift and join his other���cradling your face slightly, your eyes opened to find Sirius’ directly infront of yours, the tips of his nose brushing over the skin of your cheek. His lips were only just ghosting over yours, something glimmering in his eyes as they ran over your entire face—and though he held your head in place, he could feel the way you leaned into his touch.

Draw to his lips.

And it did nothing to quell his already inflated ego.

He was tempting—teasing you with another kiss, tilting his head when his tongue darted out to wet his flushed lips. Voice so low the vibrations sent a shiver through you—

“Mmmm, think Jamie wants a bit of your attention, sweetheart,”

Only then did you remember it was more than just you and Sirius in the room together, turning your head to find both James and Remus’ eyes already on you, burning so hot and intense you felt the air catch in your throat.

James’ self-control was already teetering on the edge, unravelling, thread by thread.

He was on you before you could even react, fingers slipping under your thighs as he pulled your onto him and out of Sirius’ lap. The smallest of gasps escaped you, fingers curling into his shoulders—your lips still buzzed with the remnants of Sirius’ kiss, and the heat of James’ palms as they gripped your thighs only added fuel to the small pit burning in you.

An amused chuckle sounded from beside you, Sirius, watching as you melted so easily against him, watching the way James’ eyes scanned you, as if sizing you up, like a predator evaluating his meal before pouncing.

James didn’t acknowledge his watchful gaze, or Remus’. He couldn’t take he eyes off you, not even for a second—his lips were so close to yours, almost touching, almost connected. Your breath fanned over the surface of his skin, leaving you in small huffs before you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, looking up at him through your lashes, innocent—bleary.

"You’re coming with me," he purred, voice honeyed, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

He adjusted his grip, one arm secure under your legs, the other braced against your back as he lifted you up both up and off of the sofa forcing the air left your lungs in a startled gasp—carrying effortlessly through the dimly lit corridor.

"Jamie!”

He cut you off with a kiss. Slow, deliberate, his lips pressing to yours as he’d been starved of touch this whole time. His steps never faltered, even as your fingers found the tufts at the nape of his neck, tilting into him. He hummed into your mouth, tongue flicking teasingly against yours before pulling back just enough to grin at you.

Behind you, Sirius let out a low groan. "Now he’s just showing off."

Remus swallowed thickly, eyes tracing the curve of your throat—James’ mouth against it—the way your lips were still parted, dazed from the kiss. Before he worked his way back to your lips, you saw the way Sirius leaned in to murmur something to Remus, a smirk playing at his lips as they followed after you.

You barely heard the way the door shut with a soft click behind you, the loud ringing of your pulse thumping in your ears—James' lips were still on yours—harder this time, fiercer, as if the kiss in the hallway had only stoked something raw—desperate inside him.

A startled sound left you as he backed you against the edge of the bed, his hands tightening where they held you. There was nothing soft in the way he kissed you now—nothing patient. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that stole your breath, a bruising kind of want that left no room for uncertainty.

A snall whimper built in your throat, fingers curling into his shirt, and he almost growled—a low, frustrated sound against your mouth.

"So pretty," he muttered, words hot against your lips before biting at your bottom one, pulling until you gasped. "Don’t go shy on me now."

The bed dipped beneath you as he settled between your legs, hands bracketing your hips, thumbs pressing into the bone. He kissed you again, tongue sweeping into your mouth, deeper this time—searching, devouring. When you hesitated, overwhelmed, he rocked against you once, slow and deliberate, his hips pressing into yours with enough pressure to make your head spin.

A gasp slipped past your lips, and he smirked, pulling back just enough to drink you in, his pupils blown wide.

“Thaaat’s it,” he murmured, dragging a hand up your side, slipping beneath your shirt to press his palm flat against your ribs. “You’ll let me teach you, won’t you, sweetheart?”

Your heart hammered beneath your chest, breath coming quick, body alight with something new—something ovewhelming an addictive. Setting the surface of your skin alight—you struggled to find air—nodding dazed, and James leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Atta girl.”

From the doorway, Sirius let out an appreciative hum. “Bloody hell, Jamie, and you were worried I’d break her,”

He only smirked into your skin before tilting his head back up, claiming your lips again, leaving no time for you to catch your breath. His lips moved against yours, rough, insistent. His hands travelling along you wildly, unable to stay in one place for long before he moved it, grasping and groping—leaving goosebumps in his touch’s explorative wake.

He kissed like he wanted to ruin you—like he needed to, like every ounce of restraint had snapped the moment he had you beneath him. Almost every part of James was pressed against you, not even a slither of space between you, his palm curling around the under side of your thigh, hitching your leg up to his hip. Molding your body against him—fingertips digging into the flesh as he essentially manhandled you.

His hips rolled against yours, slow at first—taunting, teasing. The friction sent a jolt of heat straight through you, a soft, unbidden whimper falling from your lips. James caught it with a groan, teeth scraping your bottom lip before he tugged, drinking in the sound like it had gone straight to his head.

“Yeah?” he rasped, pulling back just enough to watch your face, to see the way your brows knit together, the way your breath hitched and shuddered with every shift of his hips. “You like that, sweetheart?”

You could only nod, hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, trying to ground yourself as he rocked against you again—harder this time, his hips pressing down with delicious precision. The pressure was overwhelming, each slow grind setting your skin alight, winding something unbearably tight in the pit of your stomach.

"Words," his voice was hoarse, muffled against your jaw.

A breathless gasp tumbled out, but James didn’t let up. His hands slid under your shirt, thumbs brushing the bare skin of your waist, pressing into your ribs as he pinned you down, lips ghosting over your pulse—your body burned hot against his

"Come on, love," he purred, voice like silk, laced with something mean. "Let’s hear it."

Your nails dug into his arms, breath shuddering as he rocked into you again, dragging a strangled moan from your throat.

“James—”

“Mmmm,” he purred, pleased. "Knew you'd be good for me."

His praise made your head spin, warmth pooling low in your stomach. He kissed you again, swallowing every desperate noise that left your lips, his movements growing more insistent. Your thighs trembled beneath him, and you barely registered the low curse from beside you. Both Sirius and Remus had settled on either side of the mattress—watching in dark amusement, backs flush against the headboard.

Remus leaned over slightly, running his hand gently over your hair, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. ”This is more bullying than teaching, Prongs,”

James didn’t stop. Didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, he smirked against your lips, eyes hooded as he murmured, “She can take it.”

Remus just swallowed thickly, exhaling a slow, hitching breath. His eyes wandering over both your figures, locking where James was grinding against you, discipline fraying with every moment because—fuck, you looked so good together.

Sirius was no better in his observation, joining Remus in his inclined position—breath tickling your ear, michief flickering wildly behind his eyes “Can you feel Jamie, sweetheart? Making you feel good?” his voice was teasing and syrupy, a perfect contrast to the way James’ hips moved with rough, calculated force.

Your head rolled towards him when James finally gave your lips a break—focusing on your neck.

Half-lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you tried to focus your gaze on Sirius, mewls still spilling from your lips with each mean buck of James’ hips against your core.

Gods, could you feel him.

Not just his lips—frenzied, nipping and sucking at the jaw, not just his hands—rough in the way they pawed at every part of your, from the curved of your ass to your hips and breast. You could feel him, the outline of his bulge, harsh and merciless in its rocking against you—making the saliva pool in your mouth, mind racing with lewd thoughts that sent even more heat rushing to the tips of ears.

He forced out a gasping whine when his hands came to pull you closer, bringing your hips up to meet his rough grinds. Your eyes were still on Sirius, you were nodding to him almost frantically—words breathy on another shuddering exhale.

“Yeah…mmph—’so big,”

Sirius’ brows cocked up into a suprised arch, always quick with his words until now, lips parting while he searched for a comeback and failing—a chuckle of disbelief falling from his lips, spreading into a grin.

If the combination of your moans and the delicious friction didn’t have James’ head spinning, your breathy little admission surely did the trick. His groan was deep, reverberating through his chest as he dropped his forehead against your shoulder, breath hot and uneven against your skin—rocking into you harsher, with more vigor, each rough grind sending little jolts of pleasure through you, making your body jolt lightly up the bed with the force of it.

The rough drag of his body against yours had you gasping, back arching as he set a pace that was utterly devastating. Each grind sent a pulse of pleasure through your core, stoked the warmth curling deep in your belly, made your thighs tremble where they bracketed his hips.

Sirius let out a low chuckle beside you, shaking his head in amusement. “Fuck, Prongs. You’re really set on breaking her in, aren’t you?”

James didn’t answer—too focused, too caught up in the warmth of you beneath him, in the way you gasped and clung to him with every deliberate roll of his hips. He was consuming you, and you let him, losing yourself in the sensations, in the deep pull of desire, in the way James knew exactly how to pull you apart.

Remus, lounging beside Sirius, exhaled a slow, measured breath. His eyes were sharp, intense, tracking every little reaction you gave, each quiver of your breath—your dazed expression. Letting out a half-exasperated sigh, the hint of a smirk curling at his lip, he shook his head. “James,” he chided, voice laced with amusement, “you shouldn’t ravish the poor girl.”

James groaned into your shoulder, pressing his weight against you one last time, rolling his hips in a way that had your breath catching in your throat. "I don’t hear her complaining," he muttered smugly. The warmth in his voice sent another wave of heat rolling through you, had your fingers tugging at his shirt like you wanted him closer even though there was no space left between you.

And yet, reluctantly, he pulled back, shifting onto his knees between your legs. His gaze flickered over you—your parted lips, the dazed, needy expression on your face, the way your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. Your legs were still spread around him, your skin flushed, lips swollen from kisses and your own unrestrained biting, top rucked up to expose the smooth expanse of your stomach.

You were wrecked—and they hadn’t even truly touched you yet.

Sirius made a sound low in his throat, something between a chuckle and a groan, dark eyes flicking over your form like he was committing every little detail to memory.

James swallowed, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip—maybe he had got a bit carried away. Exhaling a breath, he sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck, before finally shifting off you.

You barely had time to mourn the loss of his warmth before Remus moved, adjusting the pillows behind him before gently coaxing you up, guiding you to settle back against his chest. His arms around you, solid and warm, and the moment you leaned into him, a small gasp caught in your throat.

Because you felt it.

The hard, undeniable press of his arousal against your back, heat searing through the layers of fabric still between you. Your breath hitched, body going stiff for a fraction of a second before you melted against him, fingers unconsciously curling into the material of his trousers.

A deep hum rumbled through Remus’ chest, and his lips brushed the shell of your ear as he spoke, voice low and thick. “Y’alright, dove?”

He only felt you nod against him, still drinking in small breaths of air.

Chuckling softly, his hands smoothed over your thighs in slow, soothing motions, giving you time to come back into the room fully. After a few moments your breath evened he spoke again, “Wanna keep going?”

The question sent a fresh rush of heat flooding through you, but you nodded again, significantly more eager. He hummed lowly, palms still kneading your flesh, before slipping up, ghosting over the skin of your stomach. Tilting head to look down at you, he could see the way your lips were still flushed, a huffed chuckle punctuating his sentence—

“How about…we give your lips a bit of a break, love?” his lips just barely grazing your temple.

You still couldn’t trust your voice, humming in approval, tongue flicking lightly over your lips.

Sirius, who had settled beside you on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, let his fingers ghost over your leg, the touch barely there—teasing, absentminded touches that made your breath hitch. His gaze was dark, intruiged, dragging over your form with something keenly observant—like he was watching very closely for every little reaction you gave.

Remus shifted slightly behind you, hands sliding under the hem of your top, coaxing you to lift your arms. His movements were slow, patient, giving you time to stop him, but when you didn’t—when you let him—he hummed in approval, slipping the fabric up and over your head, baring you further to their hungry gazes.

The air kissed your newly exposed skin, raising goosebumps in its wake, and suddenly, you felt so aware of yourself—of the way their eyes were drinking you in, of the way Sirius’ tongue swiped over his bottom lip, of the way James’ breath hitched just slightly.

Sirius let out a low whistle, a slow, easy grin tugging at his lips. “Damn, sweetheart,” he mused, voice teasing but dripping with appreciation. “You’ve been hiding that from us all this time?”

Heat rushed to your face, but before you could stammer out a response, Remus exhaled a quiet chuckle against your skin.

Letting his palms smooth over your sides, murmuring his approval into your skin, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your ribs, his touch feather-light, teasing. Sirius and James just watched, fascinated, as Remus took his time, dragging his fingers over the delicate lace covering your chest, gaze flickering over your figure.

Remus’ voice was softer now, a quiet murmur, honeyed and lightly laced with desire.

“I have something I want to learn, too.”

You almost didn’t notice the way his fingers trailed down your body, skin prickling at the back of your neck when Remus started toying with the waistband of your trouser. Only just slipping the pads of his fingers underneath the edge before pulling away again, testing, and each time his did—air catches in your throat.

His lips brushed against your ear, voice patient but filled with quiet intent.

“Do you want these off?”

You swallowed thickly, your gaze flicking downward, watching the way his fingers played with the fabric one again—waiting, asking.

Answering with a trembling breath, “Yes…please.”

Sirius hummed in approval, his grin slow and lazy as he sat up, his fingers joining Remus’ as they worked together to ease you out of the fabric, their touches warm and reverent.

“Hmmm, such good manners,” His praise was a murmur against your temple, a quiet rumble of satisfaction that had a shiver running down your spine.

Remus’ gaze never wavered, his fingers tracing along your newly bared skin, watching, studying, soaking in every little shiver, every sharp intake of breath, every unconscious tilt of your hips. His thumb ghosted over your hipbone, over the top hem of your panties and them under the one that hugged the seam of your thighs.

Touches slow and tentative, so much so that your almost forgot to breath—eyes following his fingers just as much as James and Sirius’.

Remus’ other hand skimmed lower, teasing at the inside of your knee, coaxing your legs to part just a little wider, making nonsense patterns into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. The pads of the fingers on his other hand, just barely grazing over the front of your clothed core. And though he couldn’t see it directly, he could feel it—the small wet spot the had formed, spreading and darkening the colour of the fabric.

Your eyes had already shut at the contact, hairs on the back of your neck standing on end—teeth sinking into the flesh of your barely settled, swollen lips. Hands by your sides, balling into small fists as Remus lightly glided over the fabric for what felt like forever.

Already squirming restlessly at the ghostly touch.

And when he finally—finally—dipped his hand under, you sucked in a sharp, trembling breath. Body tensing, ridgid in his hold, his palm was so hot against your skin and your mouth felt impossibly dry when you tried to swallow—rid yourself of the lump that had formed in your throat.

Remus was still careful, watching each twitch of your thighs, each skipping rise and fall of your chest—viligant. He’d still barely done anything. Just cupping you, hums of approval rumbling in his chest at the way your core practically drooled over his fingers.

The steady pulse of your heartbeat sounding in your ears almost drowning out his words, “f-fuck dove, you’re soaked,”

Your muscles burned from the strain, using every cell in your brain to not buck helplessly into his hand. It was torturous really. The way he kept his hand firmly pressed against your folds, unmoving, the way he muttered against your neck, “so wet,” pausing between each word to press a kiss to your skin.

Relishing in the way your body shuddered against his, burning hotter at the moments pass—he hadn’t originally intended to tease you so, but the small whimpers that built in your throat with each squirm just tempted him too much.

The way you chewed at your bottom lip, brows arched and pinched on your forehead as you melted into him—relishing in how sensitive you were, how responsive your body was to his words.

“y’this messy just for us, dove? Mmmm, we’re so lucky,”

Both James and Sirius hum appreciatively from beside you, your eyes were still screwed shut, but you were sure their eyes were stuck on your middle—watching attentively as Remus finally moved his hand, just slightly dragging a finger through your slit, twitching in his hold. Thighs instinctively shifting to close when Sirius’ hand caught you, hand coaxing your thighs to part further.

Your head fell back onto Remus’ shoulder the second he moved his hand, even the slightest bit of friction sending waves of pleasure over your body. A gasping whine rushing past your lips, “rem,”

His other palm was pressed flush against your skin, comfortable under the hem of your panties—massaging lightly into your hip bone. Smirking into your skin as your hips raised off of the mattress slightly—pushing into his touch, pads of his fingers just barely gliding over your swollen bundle of nerves.

Sirius’ smirk widened, fingers dragging feather-light over your thigh, gaze flickering from your core to Remus as he mused lowly, “Didn’t realise you were such a sadist, Moony,”

The corners of Remus’ lips split into a wolfish grin as he finally decided to relent, ending your torment by making a single pressurised flick over your clit—your body jolted in his hold at the feeling. A soft whimper of his name leaving slipping out, and it had him twitching shamelessly in his trousers.

With each deliberate, languid roll of your bud against his fingers had your hands gripping harshly at the sheets beside you, walls spasming and clenching around nothing. And Remus could feel it, the throb of your core against him—smirking against the dip of your neck. Drinking in the small pants that fell from your lips, each heave your chest—letting one of his hands trail leisurely up your torso taking a mean handful of your breast.

Kissing a path up to your ear, lips ghosting over the shell—earning a particularly sweet gasp when one finger circled your entrance, the low, candied cadance his voice took had you struggling to swallow the saliva that pooled in your mouth. Nipping gently at your earlobe between his words—

“Wanna learn…how…to make you…feel good, pet.”

He’d effectively turneed your brain into mush, sucking in a shuddering breath when his pushed in a finger, producing an obscene squelch that had Sirius’ adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

Your head rolled slightly, brows twitching in the arch high on your forehead, unable to focus on anything other than the slow drag, the in and out and in out of his long strokes—

”G’na let me take care of you?”

God you could barely breathe, every sense overwhelmed, pressed firmly against Remus—splayed out on the mattress surrendered, at his mercy. And you could feel the pressure, the way all the eyes in the room were on you, trained to where you Remus’ hand pumped, tantalisingly slow.

Remus chuckled lightly behind you at the delirious little nods you made, followed by a satisfied hum—drunk on the way you clenched around him, practically gushing around his single digit. Walls fluttering around him when he pushed all the way in, knuckle deep—and it knocked almsot all the wind out of you.

Body slumping into him, squeezing your eyes shut impossibly tighter as your mewls bounced and echoed off the walls, “f-fuck—rem, ngh,” almost overshadowing the lewd wet sounds coming from your middle.

Thighs trembling forcefully when he worked another finger past the tight ring of muscles, jaw hanging loose—moans spilling uncontrollably from your lips. Unable to keep your body still, grinding against his hand. The stretch was immaculate, dizzying and it had the coil in the pit of your stomach twisting even tighter.

You barely heard the groan from beside you, just feeling the cold air against your folds, Remus had uncovered you, panties pulled lazily to the side. And you had no time to feel shy at the sudden exposure, because his was back to bullying his digits into you, fingers curling into your plush walls, searching for that one-

“Mmpfh! Hngh-”

Spine forming a delicious arch, jaw falling slack as Sirius inched closer to you, pressing small nibbling kisses into the flesh of your inner thigh, “—shit, so gorgeous, love,” taking his time to suck a small mark into your skin. Gaze shifting to James, who was just as breathless as you, palming his own tented trousers beside Remus, a smirk splitting onto his lips at the sight, “Look,”

Remus was reeling his two fingers back, all the way, just barely leaving them kissing the surface of your folds—spreading them slightly—a clear sheen of slick coating his fingers. Giving them a meer moment to admire you before plunging back in.

Rough pads of his finger prodding ruthless against that spot—over and over, like he was addicted to the fluttering clench of your walls around him. High on the sweet whines that spilled from you.

Muttering against your pulse, “Yeah, sweetheart? Right there?” grinning into your skin.

Your mind was scattered, chanting your hips up into his hand, desperate—feverish. The steady curling push push push had your eyes rolling into the depths of your skull, Sirius’ voice sounded far away, muffled—vaguely computing his words, “fuck, thaaat’s it, angel—you close?”

It was so overwhelming, the invasive heat that spread beneath your skin, the room practically spinning around you when you forced your eyes to open just a slither. Immediately met with Sirius’ hooded gaze, his smirk spreading wider across his lips, your fingers twitched endlessly at your sides.

Body jittering as the coil in your stomach wound tighter as the seconds passed—it wasn’t until Remus brought his thumb over your throbbing bundle of nerves, rubbing tight little circles in time with the rough prods he pushed against that spot—that your thighs threatening to clamp shut around his hand at the stimulation.

A sinfully sweet cry forcing its way out of your mouth, Sirius watched as tears sprung in your eyes, prying your thighs apart—and you heard Remus’ voice distantly in your ears, taking his own leg over yours to keep you in place,

“No, no, no keep them open, pet. Wanna make you feel good,”

He could feel the way you squeezed and pulsed around him, hips bucking wildly into his palm, choked incoherent whines filling the room. Sirius still littering marks over your thighs—his eyes flickering between you and James, who was desperately fisting his length in time with Remus’ hand—jaw slacked, huffing out breathless pants.

Tears clung to your lashes, teetering dangerously close to the edge, writhing in Remus’ hold—mattress creaking lowly, a lewd little staccato with the squelches from below.

Eyes rolling into the back of your head before squeezing shut—pushing tears out the corners of your eye. Desperately scrambling for purchase, anything to keep you tethered to the room.

Sirius interlocked one hand with yours, the other—clawing at Remus’ forearm as he worked to push you over the edge, words hypnotising and honeyed.

“you’re okay, sweetheart—that’s it, taaake it,”

Bringing his lips to suck a small bruise into the thin skin behind your ear, body seizing in his hold, forming a delicate little arch as your jaw slacked. Wanton babbles leaving you as the coil in your stomach snapped—high washing over you, stars clouding your vision. A string of strangled gasps “hngh—rem, so—remus,” spilling out.

Your eyes snap open, a broken little sob leaving you when his fingers didn’t stop—hips bucking away from his touch while he worked you through your high, muttering against your temples, “Goood girl, keep cumming f’me,” shuddering in his hold, the mantra of his name heavy on your lips even after you slacked into him.

Aftershocks wracked through you in quiet tremors, your body boneless against the mattress as your heartbeat echoed like waves in your ears—loud and steady and a little unmoored. Remus stayed holding you, murmuring soft praise as he slowly pulled out, careful and gentle with every motion.

He pressed small, fluttering kisses over your shoulder, the corner of your neck—reverent and grounding. One hand brushing hair from your damp forehead, palms warm and steady.

“Did so well,” words low and soothing as he whispered “Just breathe, love. I’ve got you.”

You let out a soft, trembling exhale, too far under to say anything yet, but the way your fingers curled around his wrist was enough.

Sirius inched up beside you, head resting lightly on your stomach, thumb grazing the edge of your temple as he took you in. “Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured softly, “Y’alright? Still with us?”

You gave him the smallest nod, blinking up at him with glazed, half-lidded eyes. Sirius sighed, all fondness, and leaned in to kiss your cheek, the corner of your lips.

James murmured something about water and padded off to the kitchen, returning a minute later with a warm cloth in one hand and a glass that he helped you sip from carefully, brushing his fingers under your chin as you drank.

Remus took the warm cloth, gently tending to you—every swipe over your skin tender and attentive, whispering praise into the crook of your neck, your hair, your temple. Eyes fluttering closed as you basked in the warmth of their touch.

pt 3

[mishellii]

petnames headcanons .ᐟ.ᐟ

modernworld!attack on titan x fem!reader

including: eren, armin, levi, hange, erwin, jean, mikasa, connie & sasha

warnings: NSFW! minors do not interact; not proofread,,, as always, pretty self indulgent oops

likes & reblogs appreciated<3

masterlist

𐙚EREN.

★i have this fb image about him in my head that i just can't get rid of

★...... babygirl

★but hear me out

★most of the times when he has NO idea what you're on about or he's trying to tease u

★uses it mostly while texting tho!

★"that's literally insane bbg"

★he's so UGHH

★always greets u with babe

★he'd definitely use ur name as well but he loves loves petnames

★sugar, pretty girl, u name it

★thinks they're so cute

★when ur asking something of him or like giving him shit he'd hit u with a

★"sure, ma"

★and idk about u but that's kinda hot

NSFW.

★so so basic but he loves calling you baby during sex, even though he calls u that all the time

★i think he'd use such teasing words and soft n sweet petnames just fit so well with that

★"oh, now you're listening, baby?"

★"c'mon, pretty, you were all mouthy earlier, tell me."

★says ur name only when he cums :)

★and the usual good girl when ur finished

★c'mon we been knew

──────────୨ৎ───────────

𐙚ARMIN.

★love

★LOVE

★just love man he's so so loving in his words he wouldn't ever call you anything degrading

★"sure, angel, i'll get right to it."

★but most likely when texting??

★perhaps he's too shy to call u anything but your name in public but he's trying i promise

★also the type to call u something only the both of you would know the reason behind; something no one else would know why he'd call u that

NSFW.

★oh my sweet boy

★i am a sub armin believer, but more on the switchy side so he could definitely dom if he feels confident enough in the relationship

★"please, angel, let me cum"

★with that subtle manipulative tone barely noticeable because of his oh so gentle words

★"i know, darling, just a bit more, please?"

★also loveeees moaning your name and hearing YOU say his name cuz he feels more connected this way

★,,,sighs dreamily

𐙚LEVI.

★this little bloke

★refuses to call u anything but ur name in public like,,,, if there's other people, he's using your name there's no way around it

★except for the infamous brat of course (i'm bumping that)

★,,i'm not telling you again, brat."

★in the comfort of ur living space, where it's just the two of you, he might throw in something cute if he's in a particularly soft mood

★"Already did the dishes, love, go lay down."

★pretty confident when he's texting tho, but simply cuz the words sound too foreign coming out of his mouth

★"Sure, Sweetheart. See you at home."

NSFW.

★dom levi defender for life u can haunt me down idc i stand by this

★once he feels comfortable and secure enough in ur relationship, certain you won't run off, he'd definitely lose the no-feelings-attitude and become more playful and daring

★"hands above your head, doll, i'm not telling you again."

★he can be pretty mean and unfair ,,,

★just.... u need to give him what he wants before he gives u what you want u feel me

★"beg"

★-"please."

★"like a good girl."

★not opposed to throwing in the brat again if ur pissing him off

★i'd gladly piss him off

★gnawing at the bars of my enclosure rn

𐙚HANGE.

★AAAAA A A A AAAAAAA

★"darling, i'm almost done."

★i would go to war for hange pls someone hold my hand

★now i think they're not entirely intrigued by pet names but some do slip out when they're feeling soft or they're in a silly mood

★once hange stalked the internet for too long and found "the cuppycake song" and started calling u stuff like my snoogums boogums or hunny bunch to get on ur nerves

★when noticing you're down or not in the best mood they use comforting ones tho

★"you okay, dear?"

★texts usually with the basic babe cuz they think it's short and still comes across as endearing, right?

NSFW.

★ugh

★"legs spread, sweet thing."

★ hange's a switch me thinks but with a preference for dominating??? idk why i'm even talking about this but y'all need to get the idea

★"did i tell you to move, pretty girl?"

★ugh pt.2

★when feeling subby they'd mostly use ur name tho ??

★or a teasing "yes, ma'am" to get u even more worked up (if u weren't already)

𐙚ERWIN.

★mr.smith my god

★he's so sweetheart coded fuck off

★and always puts "my" infront of pet names to insure people know u belong together

★doesn't matter if ur married or not

★"i'm just finishing up work, my love."

★if he talks with someone else about you it'd be either "my lady" or "my wife"

★he's oh so respectful when he talks about u i'm going insane

★texting would be the same tbh

NSFW.

★ahem

★"there you go, sweet girl. that's it."

★HE'S JUST SO-

★like he loves ur name too don't get me wrong but once he knows how much u love hearing him say those things it'll be hard to get him to stop

★"let me hear you, angel."

★makes u feel so much with his words and soft voice i hate it here

★erwin smith the man u are

𐙚JEAN.

★"hey, good lookin', how's it going?"

★doesn't reaaalllyyy call u much aside from babe in public, cuz he's a bit more private about showing his love

★not afraid to step up and make it known you're with him tho

★"yeah, my girl's not interested, thank you."

★during texting too like

★almost same as armin in personal pet names like,,,, idk

★u got an embarrassing haircut ONCE he's not letting it go

★"sure, bowl cut, i'll be there soon."

★i mean it's endearing come oooonn

NSFW.

★"you're so good to me, beautiful."

★i'm almost convinced he's all about praising words and names in bed (can u tell i don't like degradation oops)

★making u feel so good about urself cuz that's exactly what he wants

★also something along the lines of

★"go on, pretty thing, i got you."

★such a charmer

★i want 14 of him rn

𐙚MIKASA.

★step back ladies, i got this 🫷🏼😌🫸🏼

★in all seriousness, mommikasa's pretty light on the petnames imo

★she's a softy at heart tho, so she'll definitely call u sumn along the lines of love or sweets

★mostly in the comfort of ur 4 walls tho !!

★such huge emphasis on my GIRLFRIEND when introducing you to someone or talking about u

★wants the people to KNOW you're hers.

★she don't play about u

NSFW.

★lord have mercy

★pretty pretty girl is a force to be reckoned with

★"yeah, gorgeous, you like that?" in her soft voice with that devilish undertone

★settling for the basic baby most of the time tho, cuz it rolls off her tongue so easily when she's with u

★if you're being good, she'll let you know with sumn like "that's my girl." or "you're my pretty girl, yes?"

★again

★BIG👏🏻EMPHASIS👏🏻on the "my" part

𐙚CONNIE.

★this douche is all in always everywhere

★literally only calls u shit because he loves messing with u

★it's his form of affection i promise

★"ey, smelly, come here."

★genuinely, he's so weird

★"pookie, i didn't mean it."

★when ur pissed at something he said

★but he CAN be sweet obviously but only ever with calling you baby

★he's one of the girls when he's texting you like

★"omg bestie tell me"

★or

★"dpwm girl"

★he's so dry but uses memes to even it out

★i adore him actually

NSFW.

★"i told you, beautiful, no touching."

★he's actually really sweet during sex i promise he's not always a dick

★he DOES love u and he's not afraid to show/tell u with touching u in the right places AND with his words

★"keep going, ma."

★also baby baby baby so much baby UGH

★constance springer in my bed this instant

𐙚SASHA.

★mrs.potato girl def calls u anything and i mean anything related to the thing she loves most

★food.

★sugar, pumpkin or cupcake

★she loves food and she loves you so how could she not :(

★i fear sasha forgets ur name sometimes cuz it's so natural for her to call u sweet nicknames instead

★it's pretty much her love language

★as well for pda but that's a topic for another day cuz i will not STOP once i start

★"hey, girlie" when greeting u in a high pitched voice like,,, she's so easy to love bro

★also definitely gorgeous. ure her gorgeous girl.

NSFW.

★pillow princess sasha confirmed👑

★no i mean she can definitely take the lead, there's not really a fixed power dynamic when ur with her, but i feel she most times prefers being taken care of (as she SHOULD)

★main thing she'll call u during the nasty is baby

★depends on what ure into but she's definitely into addressing u as "ma'am"

★also princess :(

★uses ur name more during sex tho!!

★feels it's more intimate and personal that way

★i want to EAT her

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed this veRY self indulgent lil thing aaaand i'll see u beans next time! uuuhbye bye xx

[sourszt]

[ 𝟏𝟐:𝟐𝟓 𝐚.𝐦. | 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭 ]

𝐟𝐭. abby anderson x fem!reader

𝐜𝐰. nsfw, thigh riding, making out, praise, porn what plot lowkey, wlw, lots of kissing, needy!abby, slightlysubby!abby if u squint (idc ik she’s vocal), i think thats it. top!reader, slighttease!reader, okay i think that’s fr it

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. i want her. i need her. i crave her. abby <3 this is jus a lil drabble bc shes so strong i know thigh riding w her just goes crazy. im also obsessed w that scene of her laying down w the book on her stomach. not proofread.

it always started out the same way; you finding abby hidden away in her room, nose deep in some book she was barely reading to escape the day. it was usually when everyone was out eating or messing around in the lounge areas because that was the only time she had to herself. and because she knew you’d find her there every time.

she’d put her book down across her stomach and pull her legs up to make room for you to sit, asking why you were there. it was all apart of the show. she knew why you were there.

you would play along, telling her what she was missing out on. today, it was blackjack in the mess hall. the prize? the fruit cups they were handing out, fresh from the fields nearby. she also knew that she didn’t miss anything and that you would reveal two cups hidden underneath the jacket you took off moments later.

the fruit was sweet — a mixture of strawberries and blueberries and melon. although, neither of you made it entirely through your cups when you leaned forward to pop a strawberry in abby’s mouth, slowly easing between her knees as you stacked your half empty cups and set them onto the dresser.

abby’s lips pulled into a soft smirk, barely revealing her teeth as she mumbled, “what, you’re not gonna let me finish?” despite that, she’d grabbed the spine of her book and set it down beside the fruit cups to accommodate you, her blue eyes analyzing your lips like they were the most fascinating things.

they made their way back up to yours when you started to grin down at her. “sure i will.” the words rolled off of your tongue lowly and teasingly before you finally kissed her. her being half propped up against her pillows, you met her halfway and crawled up to find her lips.

her hands latched onto your waist, squeezing into your clothed skin in a silent plea. a soft whine escaped abby, muffled against your mouth. you were sweet — sweet like strawberries. abby lifted off of the bed an inch, pushing against your mouth with pure need.

“you want it bad, don’t you?” you teased her gently, earning a playful little glare from her. it didn’t last long when she saw your fingers hurrying to unbutton your pants and she whispered a sharp curse before offering a helping hand. the second they hit the ground, she grabbed your jaw and pulled you down into a kiss much deeper than the one before. it made you gasp, her strength nearly knocking you off balance. you caught yourself against her strong shoulders.

it didn’t take long for the kiss to take a turn when abby’s teeth pulled at your bottom lip in your attempt to come up for air. she was panting already, her face flushed and her eyes half lidded. you wanted so badly to tear into her for it and rile her up but you didn’t get the chance to when her hand suddenly snaked around the back of your neck, holding your head firmly in place as she came up to kiss you again.

it was like that for a while, pushing and pulling while your hands did the rest. abby now groped at your ass, particularly liking the noises it drew from you, as she helped your one of your thighs over hers. your hands found purchase on her chest when you sunk down onto the thigh you straddled and abby took your moment of distraction to press her lips to your jaw.

“abby,” you whispered her name, voice cracking when you felt the flat of her tongue against your neck. she hummed into your skin when you grabbed the side of her neck, your thumb lazily stroking her cheek. “shit, baby,” you had to bite your lip to keep a moan down as her teeth grazed your collarbone.

“you sound so pretty f’me,” abby cooed as she settled back against her pillows. you were about to protest the loss of contact when she suddenly bucked her hips up and her thigh grazed against your clothed cunt. the hands that had at some point shifted to your hips held you in place as she flexed the muscles of her thigh.

she watched you from underneath her lashes, taking her bottom lip between her teeth when she saw your jaw slacken in a silent moan. you mumbled a strained curse and let your head dip down towards her chest while you tried to adjust to abby’s gentle rhythm. you could feel the bed gently shifting each time her heel pushed off of it.

“c’mon, baby,” abby pressed a kiss to the top of your head as her fingers grazed up your sides, gathering the hem of your shirt between them. instinctively, you sat up to let her peel your shirt off. for a moment, while abby held you upright to admire the fact that you hadn’t worn a bra, you ground your hips against her thick thigh.

abby’s breath hitched in her throat when you balanced yourself on her abs that you just had to lift her shirt to feel. your other hand toyed with the waistband of her sweats. she huffed, knowing what you were doing. she knew to anticipate your hand sliding down to cup her clothed heat, her eyes fluttering shut as her breathing threatened to go erratic.

she leaned back onto her elbows when you slipped your hand down the front of her pants and found her clit through her panties. all the while, you made up for her dying pace by picking your own up. “fu-fuck,” abby hissed. she nudged her leg to the side to give you better access.

you loved seeing her like this. her eyebrows were beginning to tent together and her reddened lips were parted in soft moans. her eyes struggled to stay open with your fingers working her clit just the way she liked it and she wasn’t sure if she should look at you or the hand down her sweats.

every so often your hand would slow down when you got too caught up with fucking yourself on her thigh, but she didn’t mind. she enjoyed the sweet little whines you’d shamelessly let slip. and every once in a while, amidst your languid thrusts, your knee would hit the back of your hand and it would bump against abby’s sensitive clit.

“that’s it,” abby breathed encouragingly. one hand settled at the small of your back, aiding you along. she could feel the desperation in your thrusts, each one more eager than the last. she grabbed the wrist that was still inside of her sweats, guiding you over her body. “c’mon, baby, almost there.”

your lips clashed messily as you continued to ride abby’s thigh. you knew her sweats were already a mess because of you and that you probably looked just as bad but you didn’t care. all you could think about was how good abby’s thigh felt on your clit and how big her hands were groping your tits. he was all but stealing the air straight from your lungs.

“fuck, abby,” you whined against her lips. “i’m… i’m close, ‘m so fucking close.” that familiar churn in your stomach continued to grow each time you rolled your hips on abby’s firm thigh.

abby cursed under her breath at the sound of your voice, so whiny and full of need. “‘ts okay, let go for me.” she husked. she watched your face twist as you got closer and closer until it finally hit you.

her hands slid up and down the fronts of your bare legs as you rode her through your orgasm. your pace fell short and your moans filled the room. her name fell from your lips over and over, balling her sheets in your fists.

even after you fell slack against her, she kept her hands glued to your sides. her thumbs rubbed soft circles into your stomach while you caught your breath. you were covered in a thin sheet of sweat and your face was still so flushed when you came up to look at her. but that didn’t stop you from seeking out her lips.

she accepted the kiss gracefully, sliding one hand up to the base of your jaw and holding you in place. the kiss was slow and soft, but abby sensed it shifting to something more when you shifted back onto your heels and started lifting her shirt up her toned body. she hummed and pulled away, giving you nothing more than a questioning look.

“i’m gonna let you finish, isn’t that what you wanted?” you teased her breathlessly, throwing her words back at her as you slotted yourself between her legs.

abby went to say something sharp back but the words caught in her throat when you dipped your head down to the hem of her bra and kissed her skin. “fuck,” she moaned softly when you ghosted the tips of your fingers down her sides and stopped at the waistband of her sweats, “you’re fucking insatiable, you know that?” she choked out as she peered down at you.

“you love it.”

not proofread my b 🤑 i need more smuts of my Wife without strap. yes i support strap use #backthatstrap but idc i need HER. just HER.

[dannyriccsystem]

ik this is a common trope by now in the fanfic community but can we have drivers reacting to their girlfriends calling them their husband even thought they're not married (yet). please and thank you

ME AND MY HUSBAND…

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

MEOW

Summary: Calling your F1 Driver boyfriend your “husband” ^^

Warnings: Fluff, Y/N usage, alcohol consumption, not proofread

Featuring: MV1, LN4, CL16, LH44, CS55, OP81

I’m a sucker for this trope idc

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

You were a famous podcaster, known for your interviews with various famous celebrities of different career paths and backgrounds. People particularly enjoyed your show because of the diversity in content, allowing viewers to branch out into various new interests and gain insight on lots of interesting topics. Anyway, today you had an interview with a famous model who offered to give discernment into the industry.

She had shared a particularly relatable point about her and her husband, mentioning how they both had very different jobs and lives, but still worked as a united team. You, in the haste of the moment, replied with, “Yeah, me and my husband are the same way.”

You didn’t even think much of it. You were just trying to relate to your guest on the show, and hadn’t registered the fact that you made a mistake. Even if you did, you’d probably just shrug it off…

Until you came home. Max seemed to have been waiting for you, sitting on a chair in the living room with Jimmy— Or Sassy, you could barely tell the different— Sitting on his lap, like some sort of evil mastermind. The sight made you laugh as you slipped off your shoes and jacket, hanging it up on the coatrack.

“Your husband,” He said pointedly, his lips quirked up into a knowing grin. You raised a brow at him, and he unlocked his phone to show you the clip. Your face lost its color, shaking your head.

“Uhm… Whoops.” You grimaced, because the reality of things was finally starting to settle in.

“I kinda like the title. Might have to start ring shopping. Everyone’s expecting it now.”

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

Today was one of the first races you attended in person in a long time. You had been occupied with law school and opted to support your boyfriend from afar so you could focus on your career. Of course, Lando had no complaints, but he was eager to have you in the garage supporting him once again.

Of course, you can’t be a WAG in the paddock without being caught by hundreds of interviewers. You managed to brush most of them off with short responses, or simply dismissing yourself politely, but there was one in particular that managed to catch you up.

“Y/N, Y/N!” The woman called out, rushing over to you. She looked exasperated, like she had been trying for some time now to catch you. You paused, taking pity on the woman who was clearly running in heels. She seemed polite, so you stopped to give her your attention. “Thank you,” She directed you towards the camera, and you smiled and waved.

“Hello,” You spoke cautiously, unfamiliar with this experience. It had been forever since you were put in such a position— Hopefully you didn’t look too awkward.

“How do you feel about Lando starting from pole position?” She asked, a glint of excitement in her eyes. You were glad you stopped to give her the time of day.

“Oh! I’m very confident in my husband’s abilities, and I think this will be a promising first race.” You nodded with a warm smile, but the interviewer gave you a befuddled look. You caught her gazing at your hands briefly, before nodding.

“W… Wonderful, thank you Miss Y/N.” You quietly thanked her and dismissed yourself, thinking back on the interview. You huffed a sigh, brushing the confusion off as you stepped foot into the Mclaren garage. Lando, who was watching the TV with crossed arms, which was currently displaying pre-race interviewers, turned to look at you, and his eyes widened.

“Your HUSBAND?” He questioned with raised brows. You blinked, and then your jaw dropped. THAT’S why she was being so weird.

“Oh God, now they’re all gonna think we’re married.”

Oscar, who was watching the interaction with amusement, clapped you both on the back and chuckled. “Guess it’s time to go ring shopping.”

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Today you and Charles had chosen to stay in. It was supposed to be some big event with the whole Ferrari team, but instead you guys decided to opt out and play sick. It felt slightly naughty since he was technically obligated to go, but the two of you just needed a break.

You were both relaxing on the couch, catching up on some random TV show you found a few months back and never got the opportunity to finish. It was nice to be able to dress down in comfortable clothes and not care about public appearances for a while.

Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, scrolling on his phone to order takeout from the local restaurant. “Hm, want any dessert?” He questioned mindlessly, his voice hoarse as if he had just woken up, despite the fact it was nearly 7 in the afternoon.

“You’d think my husband would know the answer to that by now,” You spoke without thinking, your voice infected with sleepiness. You stretched your arms out like a cat, resting your head against his lap. You noticed he fell silent, turning your head to look up at him. He was giving you a cheeky smile. “What?”

“You called me your husband,” He muttered with a fond look in his eyes. You playfully rolled your eyes, lightly smacking his chest. “Hey, don’t hit your husband,” He teased. “What a bad wife.”

“Oh shush, it was an accident and you know it.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours with a promise whispered against them, “One day.”

—

LEWIS HAMILTON - LH44

Note to self, never get drunk at a race after party.

Lewis had just finished an incredible race in P1, so while you normally left him to celebrate with his friends by himself, you decided to come along this time to show your extra support for such a smooth win.

Within your excitement, you had decided to challenge various drivers in swimming competitions, which you won with ease. By the end of the night you were shitfaced and behaving wildly unlike yourself.

The bar you all went to decided to show highlights of the most recent race. In your rather drunken state, you decided to point at one of Lewis’ overtakes and scream out loud for everyone to hear, “That’s my husband fuckers!”

The next morning you awoke with a major headache and lots of regrets. You rolled over, resting your head on your boyfriend’s chest. He groaned and stretched to life, his fingers running up your bare back.

“Good morning, wife.”

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “Damnit.”

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

It was actually a run on joke within the fandom that you and Carlos were married, but all of the teasing had come from him. There were various instances where, during interviews, he’d call you “the missus” or “my pretty wife” and so on. It was all fun and games, but this was different.

Earlier that day, Carlos had posted a picture of him with Alex Albon. It was a pretty typical picture, but you always left comments on his posts no matter what. This time it was “my husband looks so good today!”

You didn’t even mean to, which is why you were confused when you realized your phone was blowing up. Your notifications were limited to very few people, which meant it was your family and friends contacting you.

So many missed calls and messages from your mother… “You got married without telling me?” was the most prominent one. You quickly opened up Carlos’ contact, shaking your head at the singular message he left.

“I didn’t know we were officially married 😃”

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

Oscar Piastri was never a fan of post race interviews, but this one had been quite enjoyable. A polite interviewer was kind enough to ask you, his girlfriend, to join them on their little adventure. Usually he was quite nonchalant, but he seemed smiley everytime you answered one of the questions given to you.

“And, while we’re on the topic, how do you feel about Oscar being the new race leader?” The microphone was pointed in your direction, and you grinned.

“I have never felt more proud of my husband right now, I just…” You could feel him staring into your soul, causing you to pause. When you looked at him, he had the biggest smile possible. Probably the biggest smile the public eye had ever seen. “What?”

“My husband,” He quoted with a dreamy tone, his smile remaining in place.

“Ah,” You giggled, shaking your head. “My boyfriend,” You began again, correcting yourself. “Has been performing incredibly well this season. I wish him a good year for 2025.”

“Oscar, your thoughts?” The interviewer asked. He was still grinning boyishly.

“Just like my wife said, it’s been a good season.”

[newrochellechallenger2019]

Linecook!Art staying after the place closes with reader and cooking the both of them a little dinner, eating on the steel countertops in the kitchen under the industrial lights, drinking wine that one of them brought over, talking a little more than they usually do...

the only sound left in the diner is the click of the lock, the overhead lights long since turned off, just a strip of light coming from the kitchen as art finishes his closing shift.

'doll?' he calls, 'where you hiding?'

you giggle, the rush of trespassing finally sinking in. 'i'm here.'

art holds out his arms like a zombie, moving slowly through the diner and groaning for additional effect, till his muscly arms wrap around yours and pull you close, as you let out a squeal of delight, giggles never ceasing.

'found you' he murmurs into your hair with a cheeky grin, resting his chin atop yours as the two of you sway slowly in the darkness. intertwining his calloused fingertips with yours, art stepped back, outstretching his arm so he could reach out and kick the jukebox crumpled in the corner, which jolted, coming to life and starting to play some 60's romance song.

you gasp in surprise, smile stretching from ear to ear as art spins you back into his chest, 'i thought that thing was a goner' you shake your head in disbelief, 'god knows how many times i've had to tell kids off for wrestling with it'. you frown at the memories, anger resurfacing.

'you know i think it's super hot when you get mad' art teases, his palms rubbing up and down your arms as he smirks deliciously. you wrinkle your nose, 'seriously, weirdo?' and he laughs, a proper bellowing laugh that makes his chest vibrate against yours.

'seriously.' he says, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, 'your face gets all flushed and you get all indignant and huffy.' his smirk only widens when he notices your expression, 'like you're doing right now. face it doll, i think you're hot.' he purrs all sultry.

'i'm shocked.' you reply, deadpan. 'the dozens of times i've been back to your place gave me no hints whatsoever.' you shrug your shoulders.

'oh really?' his laugh reverberates around the empty diner again, echoing. 'no hints at all?' art beamed as his hands slid down to palm your ass.

you shake your head, doe-eyed as you feign ignorance. 'i was beginning to think you hated me.' the jukebox had started to skip, out of sequence lyrics fading into the background as the two of you stared at each other, swaying still across the diner.

'hated you?' he whispered, those two words reverential in his mouth as he slowly lifted you up, and you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his belt buckle press against your thighs.

'hmm hated you?' he repeated as if musing on the idea, kissing you again adoringly, and you squeezed tighter as he carefully walked backwards towards the kitchen.

'you'll drop me!' you squeak as the kiss breaks. 'will i?' he grunts playfully as he hoists you higher and you scream, gripping onto him like you'll fall off a cliff if you let go.

'what? a guy can't show off?' art teases, taking one arm off you just to flex his muscles and you screech, squeezing even tighter, 'stop it-'.

'baby- baby- i can't breathe-' he splutters as you, arm coming back to hold you again. 'you're such a scaredy cat' he laughs breathlessly as he deposits you unceremoniously on the steel countertops. 'no, you're just an asshole.' you pout, eyes narrowed.

'oh it's like that tonight, huh?' art chuckles, kissing at your jawline, trying to get you to crack. 'maybe.' you grumble as his kisses grow more feverish, 'mmm...' art's smirk makes his teeth brush against your cheek and you shiver, 'c'mon doll, don't you wanna know why we're still here?'

you blink, as if it's just occuring to you. 'why are we still here?' 'oh, now she's interested.' art teases, flicking your nose and you stick your tongue out at him childishly.

'tonight madam, you're going to have the most romantic night of your life.' he says in a terrible snooty french accent and you have to laugh, which only spurs him on, 'after your romantic dance with a very handsome fellow, the chef will prepare your favourite, pasta on a bed of tomato sauce and fresh meatballs followed by delicate chocolatey squares.'

'so it's spaghetti and brownies? you're making me spaghetti and brownies.' you smile joyfully, flattered that he knew your favourites. he nods mock sagely, 'yes madam.'

'and we couldn't do this at your place because....?' you tilt your head to the side, 'because! my place does not have half as good cookers and...ingredients are expensive' he says casually, brandishing a packet of pasta and you press a quick kiss to his lips. 'thank you, monsieur.' and you don't miss the slight blush on his cheeks.

opening the wine fridge, art pulls out a bottle of red, 'and for the lady?' he holds it out to you and you snigger, nodding, 'why not?' is your reply as you reach for a glass, your fingers enclosing around the stem.

he pours with practice, the alcohol swirling round the glass that it almost looks like a shot from an ad campaign. you take a sip and your eyes widen with delight, 'why are we selling this to customers? we gotta keep this to ourselves, it's delicious '

art barks out a laugh as he takes a sip from his own glass, 'something tells me that'll be a hard sell for the manager.' you swat at him playfully, his laughter continuing as he dodges you downing the remainder of your glass and pouring another, lacking his earned gracefulness.

for a while, the only sounds in the kitchen comes from the crackling of the flames as art boils the pasta, and the knife hitting the chopping board as he dices onions. you watch him with soft intrigue, he's so different when he's cooking, the cockiness melts away from him and he's more measured, and yet free.

'alright...i'll bite.' you half-slur, second glass of wine nearly done. 'why are you here?'

art shot you a look of confusion before turning back to the pot, 'what do you mean, doll?'

you let out a small groan, 'i mean...you like cooking, you're not some old creep or a teen who's always out drinking and just wants money, why are you a line cook in a shitty diner?'

art's sigh is disguised by the sound of meat sizzling as it hits the grill, 'um...i didn't get into culinary school.' there's a long pause but you don't say anything in response. 'so...i scrounged around, got this job, got my apartment and never left i guess.' his voice is smaller than you're used to, an ache in his voice that suggests a wound that hasn't healed.

'i'm sorry, i didn't know.' you reply quietly, staring a little too intently at the countertop like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

'why would you, doll?' art says in an attempt at lightness but it feels forced. 'i don't like to talk about it.'

the words hang in the air for a while before he continues, 'you next, why are you a server in a shitty diner?'

you shrug, 'i needed a job.' you sip your wine as you think it over, 'i dropped out of college and i'd never been a server before so why not?'

'why not?' art echoed with a chuckle as he shoved a tray of brownies in the oven.

'what's so funny about that?' you frown slightly, reaching for the bottle of wine again.

'you dropped out of college for why not?' his brow furrowed, tone strangely firm.

'no! i dropped out of college because i hated my course, and the people, and the lecturers, and the accomodation, and the workload and-' you reply briskly, a challenge in your eyes.

'yeah okay i get the picture doll.' art cuts you off with a raised palm, 'there's not enough jobs for graduates, let alone dropouts' the haughtiness in your voice shocks you, like he'd personally offended you.

'all i'm saying is...' art murmurs as he slides a plate across the countertop towards you, 'plenty of people would've killed to go to school.'

'well i'm not one of them' you snap, affronted. 'okay doll.' he comes round and slots himself between your legs, cupping your face with his calloused hands, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 'now will you try the pasta?'

you relent as art reaches for your dish, twirling spaghetti round the fork and bringing it to your lips, which you part, letting him feed you tenderly. 'do you need me to get you to chew too?' he teases, hand moving to your jaw. you shoot him a playful glare as you chew and then swallow, eyes lighting up. 'holy shit'

art perks up like a puppy, 'it's good?' his voice hopeful as he reaches for his own plate.

'so good' you say eagerly, going in for another forkful, 'it tastes just like my grandfather's, how did you know?' you squeak with delight, mouth half full.

art smiled, a proper rare true smile, before winking at you. 'i'm just that good doll'

'oh you are' you insist adoringly, 'culinary school is missing out.'

art's smile softened slightly but didn't dim. 'thanks baby.'

after a beat, you're eyeing your plate as an idea starts to form. 'i've always wanted to try this.' art's brow furrows as you pick up a spaghetti noodle with your fork. 'bite that end'.

art sniggers, 'doll, that's a movie- it won't work-' 'bite. it.' you hiss warningly, art rolls his eyes and begrudingly takes the noodle end in his mouth, looking every bit as stupid as he knew he would.

gingerly, you place the other end of the noodle in your mouth and start to suck, art mimics you and the two of you get closer and closer to his lips meet yours in a hungry kiss, mouth parted as you swallow the remainder of the noodle before your tongue collides with his. art groans in pleasure, pressing harder against your body between as your fingers tangle in his hair. the kiss grows more feverish, his arms around your waist before the oven beeps and he breaks away, breathless.

'happy now, doll? got your moviestar kiss?' he pants teasingly as he pulls the brownies out.

'very happy' you grin cheesily, your legs swinging off the counter as he takes the empty pasta dishes aside.

'i'm not feeding you a brownie. no way.' art says with joking firmness as he hands you a plated brownie.

'yes boss' you reply jokingly, teeth sinking into the dessert and your eyes light up again, 'it's the perfect texture! just how like it, cakey but not-'

'raw.' art finishes for you, smirking. 'i know.'

you blush, own smile widening. 'stop that.' you devour the rest of the brownie in seconds like it'll disappear if you don't and art has to hide his laugh.

'you've got a little...' his voice is barely a whisper as he reaches out and brushes a crumb from your lip tenderly. in that moment, you could really see his eyes, the grey flecks amongst the green, how they softened when they looked at you.

'thank you' is your breathless reply, lips parting as his thumb pushes between them, tip of your tongue taking the crumb off the pad of his digit and swallowing it, not wanting to waste a morsel of this delicacy.

you're not sure how long the two of you stay like that, staring at each other like long lost lovers reuniting, but the screech of the jukebox sends reality careening back towards you both. 'jesus christ' you jump, startled. 'blasted thing' cursed art under his breath, 'whole place is haunted, i'm telling ya.'

'i wouldn't be surprised.' you shudder at the thought as he helps you off the counter, 'we should get out of here then. i'll drive you home' he offers kindly and you nod, watching as he gives the jukebox a kick for good measure before leading you out and locking the diner door.

the next morning, you roll over in bed and check the work groupchat, 'hey! who closed last night? i don't remember seeing spaghetti and brownies on the menu!'

taglist: @gibsongirrl @glassmermaids @destinedtobegigi @blastzachilles @femme-lusts @glennussy @cha11engers @stanart4clearskin @artstennisracket @pittsick

[quantum1mmortality]

hihi! I saw your curly stuff, I love how you write him!! If it’s possible, nsfw headcanons for what turns him on? have a great day <3

Have I ever mentioned how much I love writing Curly? No? Well I am now. I love writing him. He's so awesome sauce, so boyfriend. My scrunkle

Tw/cw; lingerie, praise, mentions of masochism, accidentally almost wrote a one shot for the last one whoops lolololol, semi public sex IMPLIED

Not proofread

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1; Lingerie

You guys can't look at me and tell me this man wouldn't go BALLISTIC for a nice set of lingerie. He makes good money at his job, good enough to be able to buy multiple sets of high quality, lacy lingerie for you to wear for him; then make you do a fashion show for him when you get them. Curly definitely comes off as a thigh guy, so he'd pick out all the sets with garter belts, specifically so he can slip his fingers under the seam and let go to see all that thigh movement. It actually drives him wild. Those sets can be pretty expensive, so hopefully he gets a raise soon since he's tearing apart every set he gets you.

2; Praise

I know it's overdone to say a character gets turned on by being praised but idc. This man has a praise kink and I will DIE on that hill. For anyone else, a praise to him wouldn't matter. He hears them constantly in his line of work, so at this point it's just noise. But from you? You like something about him? Oh no, he's hard. You could compliment him on the most mundane of things, say his uniform looks good on him and he's thinking about that the entire time he's at work. By the time he gets home, he's in genuine pain at how turned on he's been ALL DAY and not being able to help himself. He could, but he'd rather you do it. He's quite the masochist.

3; Titles

Imagine this; you're the wife of a well respected captain at Pony Express, and you decide to be a good wife and bring your beloved husband lunch. How sweet! You go to his department and call out to him, "Captain, I've brought lunch for you~" you giggle, drawing out his title. He looks up from.. whatever he was doing only to find you, holding a lunch box with a smile. Okay stop imagining, it's headcanon time.

Obviously the first thing he's going to do is thank you for lunch, he was famished. But after that, it's all blurry. It's like being with you has unlocked a bunch of new experiences for him, he never thought being called his title, the title he earned, would turn him on so much. It's like hearing it come from you was completely different from anyone else saying it. You ended up staying his entire lunch break and talking to him, only for your words to fall on deaf ears. He could barely even focus on what he was eating, let alone what you were telling him. Eventually he just had to excuse himself from the conversation, leaving you alone as he attempted, ATTEMPTED to satisfy himself. After a while he just gave up and went back out to where you were, told you the situation, and asked for your help. He was practically begging you, what were you supposed to do? Leave him there? No, you're a good wife. Of course you'd help him, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n; sometimes I forget I'm supposed to be writing hcs and accidentally lock in too much and go on little tangents. I'm suffering from success but it kind of fucks the vibe up ngl

[hellfire--cult]

Steddie x Reader

wc: 8.2k

+18 fluff, eddie and steve are a musical duo, reader being a fan and a bit self conscious, some angst, but fluff overall, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), threesome

Summary: Your favorite duo was in town for a few days. You had seen them a million times, yet you never had the opportunity to meet them. But a fateful morning, that happens, and you weren't prepared for it.

a/n: idk what came over me, this is filthy, and completely delulu, but something about eddie and steve being a gay duo did something to me. this was barely proofread, also i forgot to put the title in the picture, but idc

Please reblog, don't just like.

It was a bright Monday morning.

You looked up at your ceiling as you slowly started opening your eyes, the drowsiness of the night falling away as you center yourself a bit more. Then you looked to the side. The poster of your favorite duo, The Outcasts. 

Steve Harrington, the singer and acoustic guitar player smiled charmingly at the camera while Eddie Munson, the one who does screamo and plays the electric guitar, pulled the bottom eyelid of his left eye down and stuck his tongue out. The contrast of the two was what made you fall completely in love with them. 

Supposedly, they have known each other since high school, and they honestly didn’t like one another. It made sense to look at Steve and see him as popular, while Eddie looked like the weird one. But then Steve’s story came out, how he was basically abandoned by his family. Eddie was an outcast to society, while Steve was an outcast of his own family.

You didn’t know which one hurt the most.

But the rumor that stuck the most to you, was that people were saying they were dating. They never confirmed it, but on stage they do some teasing about almost kissing, or Eddie would slap Steve’s ass, while Steve would kiss Eddie’s shoulder from behind. You had been to many of their concerts, and you were always in awe with them.

You were a little more than obsessed. You had watched every video, every BTS, every interview, every old video from their school days, researched them, bought their merchandise, and you were wishing on the day you would be able to meet them. Tell them how their music saved you.

You snapped out of your daydream, your mom yelling your name to come downstairs. You frowned a bit, got up from the bed, and stretched. Your back cracked and you winced slightly at the sound. You needed a chiropractor at this point. You always sleep in weird positions, and you don't really know how to correct it.

You stood up, getting your slippers on, and walked out of your room, scratching your head. You walked down the stairs only for your mother to be standing right in the foyer, her arms crossed, a glare in her eyes. You were confused at her demeanor. You knew your mother was temperamental, but you hadn’t done anything, not that you could think about, to make her this angry towards you.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” You finally reached the bottom of the stairs to look at her, and then your heart skipped a beat when her gaze turned even darker.

“You’ve been a hustle to maintain. All this time, you’ve been eating my savings away, with high school, your trips, wanting to go to college. Where do you think I can get the money for your stupid college?” You tilted your head, not understanding where she was going with this, not having ever received a complaint from your mother about money. She had been acting weird lately, but you assumed it was because of the divorce with your father.

“What are you talking about? This is the first time I’m hearing about this!” You complained and then froze, a cold sweat invading your entire body when your mother let out a wicked grin your way.

“But I solved it. You see, I sold you online.”

“What?”

“You now no longer belong to me. I bet they will make you a slave. I didn’t even met them, but they offered so much money for someone like you. It was hard to resist.”

The doorbell rang, and you were frozen in the ground as your mother opened the door, only to reveal the beautiful duo you had been a fan of for a long time. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson stood there, and you gasped, holding your chest in surprise.

“Hello beautiful.” Steve said and you couldn’t believe it. Eddie immediately pulled you in by your petite minuscule ant like waist with an hourglass shape that could outmatch Nicki Minaj, your long wavy blonde voluminous and gigantic filled with secrets hair moving from side to side as he pulled you close.

“You two want me?” Your voice small and sweet, filled with pureness, your eyes shining like blazing diamonds. 

“Of course, you’re so beautiful, and now you’re ours. We’re gonna marry you instantly, and we will make sure you live a happy life with us.” Steve said and you gasped when he instantly kissed your plump juicy natural looking pink lips, and you knew you were in love with them. You have always been.

“We fell in love with you at first sight on that post your mother made.” Eddie said and when Steve pulled away, he kissed you as well. Their bigger bodies wrapping all around you, making you feel like a little bug that they could squish.

“I love you both.” You confess when you pull away, your heart soaring into the sky. But they know a secret you don’t, another reason they bought you. They want you to know you were adopted by your mother, because…

You are also a lost princess from a city that no longer exists. Atlantis.

Your new life starts here.

happy april fools

[chuusmuts]

imagine innocent!kabukimono losing his mind

smut. afab reader, fingering, slight boobs and nipple play, oral (female receiving), marking, fingering. not proofread.

yeah, it's been a while ig... anyway, new ver of innocent kabukimono because why not (can't really call him innocent now but idk and tbh idc).

who would've thought that the day when he had to rate your dress would come? oftentimes, you would wear a casual outfit everyday, even to gatherings. but this, this was different– you were meeting your girl friends which you hadn't seen in years. so obviously, you wanted to look as pretty as you could.

therefore, here he was, seated on your bed as he watched you picked all kind of dresses from your wardrobe before throwing them beside him. he could feel his cheeks heating up at seeing you in just a towel as he tried his hardest to play it off as if he wasn't affected by your presence. but the fact that his dick was tenting his kimono was a dead giveaway.

"oh... uhm..." he fumbled over his words as blush dusted his cheeks and ears. "i- i can help you with that." he stuttered out, shifting uncomfortably on the soft mattress. his gaze flickered between the dresses laid out and your exposed skin, torn between choosing one and admiring you. his heart rate quickened as you took a step closer to him, choosing a few dresses.

"but i- it might be better if you picked something yourself." he suggested timidly, his voice barely above a whisper. he couldn't bear the thought of seeing you uncomfortable because of him. you put your index finger against your chin, indicating you're thinking before speaking up while holding up two elegant dresses, "then, i'll try both of these dresses and you tell me which one is prettier, okay?" without waiting for his response, you ran into the bathroom and changed into one of the dresses you chose.

minutes later, kabukimono watched with wide-eyed as you emerged from the bathroom wearing a short, black dress. It clung to every curve of your body, leaving little to his imagination. his breath hitched in his throat, and his mouth immediately went dry. "what do you think? mind rating from one to ten?" you spun around, a happy smile plastered on your cute face. the way your hips tilted gave a glimpse of ass crack showing just how short your dress was.

his eyes trailed down your body, taking in the way the fabric hugged your hips and accentuated your ass. he swallowed hard as unholy thoughts started to filled his mind. this was too much for him, and yet he couldn't tear his gaze away. subconsciously, his gaze dropped lower to where the hem of the dress rode up slightly to reveal a hint of your crack, causing the urge to touch you and to feel your soft skin under his fingers was mind-blowing."t- ten. i-it's... it's really pretty..." he murmured, shakily.

your smile grew even wider after hearing his response. you grabbed another dress excitedly and quickly ran to the bathroom. "i'll try this one next. don't go anywhere!" you said while you did so. he nodded jerkily, his eyes glued to your retreating form. he tried to look away, but he found himself unable to resist watching as you disappeared behind the bathroom door. this was definitely strange— he was just a puppet, a failed, innocent puppet who was thrown away and was exposed to this cruel world. this wasn't supposed to happen, but he couldn't help it as the image of your fresh ass crack flashed in his mind, making his dick throb even harder.

he groaned softly, rubbing his free hand over his throbbing member through the fabric of his kimono. it was becoming more and more obvious that he was getting turned on by this whole situation. he waited impatiently, shifting from foot to foot as he tried to ignore the ache in his groin. he knew that he shouldn't be touching himself like this, but he couldn't seem to stop. just the thought of you coming back out in that other dress was driving him wild.

though, as soon as he heard the creaking of the door, he immediately removed his hand from his member and tried to act normal. it's amazing how you're so oblivious to his abnormal breathing and the way he's sweating and blushing so much. nevertheless, you stepped out of the bathroom shyly with a blush coating cheeks, "w- what do you think about this one?" you looked breathtaking in the new dress– a pastel pink number that clung to your curves even tighter than the previous one.

kabukimono's eyes widened as you stood in front of him. the low neckline revealed more of your cleavage was mouthwatering, and the off-the-shoulder design left your shoulders bare, accentuating your slender neck. he loved the way the dress fell just above your ankles, creating a sense of elegance and grace.

"fuck." he cursed to himself. "it's..." he paused, struggling to find the right word. his gaze kept darting between your face and your breasts that were practically spilling out from the dress, lost in the beautiful sight of you. "...breathtaking." the word slipped out before he could censor himself. without realizing it, he took a step towards you, his eyes filled with desire. his tongue swiped over his lips as he fought the urge to reach out and touch you.

the blush on your cheeks darkened and you instantly turned shy. you didn't know what got into you but your smaller fingers swiftly reached out to him, holding his hand gently and pulling him closer, "do you want to touch my dress, kabuki?"

and the next moment you knew, you were pinned by him.

it was quick when he pushed you against the bed, his weight was pressed into yours, on top of yours. he found himself breathing heavily as if he didn't know how to breathe at the first place. his hands were beside your head, trapping you and suddenly he didn't understand why he needed to wear clothes anymore, why YOU needed to wear that gorgeous dress anymore. it was as if his sanity had left him, the desire to touch you, to fuck you getting stronger and overwhelming him.

he was desperate, desperate for you.

"...kabukimono?" you asked confusingly, your hands crawling up to caress his cheek and your thumb brushing against his lips which caused his breath to hitch and his eyes fluttered shut. the sensation of your thumb brushing against his lips was almost too much, sending shivers shooting through his veins and making you irresistible.

he opened his eyes again, looking down at you with a mix of desperation and longing. his hands tightened around yours, pulling them away from his face and bringing them down to rest on your waist. "i... i can't help it." he whispered, his voice husky with arousal.

his hips grounded against yours, the hardness of his cock pressing insistently against the thin fabric of your dress and he bit his lower lip, stiffling the moan he accidentally let out. "you're so fucking sexy." he breathed out, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

your eyes dilated slightly before the corner of your mouth curved upward into a soft smile. then carefully, and without a word, you lifted up his head and pulled it back down until both of your lips met. it was slow, sensual and soft kiss, one that he'd never expect from you.

but he groaned into your lips, urging you to go faster and kept up with him. he drank your lips in a quick and careless way without any thought about the future as you tried your best to keep up with his intense speed. a moan escaped your lips and your eyes were closed as his hand found itself on your nape.

kabukimono's world narrowed down to the feeling of your lips against his own. he kissed you fiercely, hungrily, as if he was starved for the taste of you while his hand on your nape tightened, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. the other hand slid up from your collarbone to you shoulder before slipping beneath the hem of your dress.

his fingers danced across your skin, teasing over the swell of your breast before cupping its softness. he squeezed them gently, massaging the firm mound as he continued to ravage your mouth with his, causing soft moans continued spilling from your delicious lips. a soft growl rumbled in his throat, vibrating against your lips. in that moment, kabukimono was consumed by need, he wanted nothing more than to tear away the layers of fabric separating their bodies and claim you completely.

and he did just that.

unwittingly, you whined loudly as he ripped off your dress and left you naked. arching your back, you felt his tongue licking the tip of your nipple. "fuck..." he growled against your tits as he sucked them eagerly. he tasted of sweat and need, and it was driving you crazy. your body trembled under his, but instead of pushing him away, your legs parted subtly, inviting him to move lower.

he leaned forward once more, kissing and sucking all over your skin until red and purple marks were all over you. each nip and lick sent shivers running down your spine, until you could feel yourself growing wetter beneath your dress.

kabukimono's attention was solely focused on your body, on every inch of skin he could see and touch. he lavished attention on each breast, suckling and nibbling until they were flushed and throbbing. his hands roamed over your curves, squeezing and kneading the flesh as if trying to imprint his touch onto your skin.

as he moved further south, his kisses trailed along your stomach before reaching the apex of your thighs. he glanced up at you, his indigo eyes burning with lust as he saw the slick evidence of your arousal. without hesitation, he inhaled your scent deeply before burying his face between your legs.

his hands firmly spread your thighs wide, giving him full access to feast upon your dripping cunt, exposing your clit to his eager mouth. a lewd soud keened from your throat as he dipped his tongue into your folds, tasting the sweet essence of your arousal. a guttural moan vibrated against your clit as he licked and lapped at your pussy. he was relentless as his mouth worshipped every inch of inside your walls, making your breath hitched endlessly and your hips bucked involuntarily every time he let out a loud slurping sound.

feeling your body react to his ministrations especially your hands which were gripping and pulling on his hair tightly only spurred him on further. his tongue delved deeper into your warmth, lapping at the sensitive walls of your pussy. his hands held you steady, one gripping your hip tightly while the other wandered upwards to tease your hardened nipple. he sucked hard on the little nubbin, using his teeth to give a slight pinch before returning to your needy slit.

kabukimono was lost in the taste of you, in the way your body quivered and squirmed beneath his touch. it was intoxicating, driving him wild with desire.

the previous hand had slipped between your legs and he slipped two fingers into your wetness. he curled them, seeking out that sensitive spot inside you that would make you scream. his thumb circled your swollen clit, making sure to apply pressure that had jolts of electricity coursing through your body and you writhing beneath him.y

he pumped his fingers slowly, setting a rhythm that made your toes curl. every thrust was accompanied by another slurping or a sharp nip of his teeth teeth on your clit. tears gathered at the corner of your eyes and perspiration began to run down your forehead as you pulled his hair harder due to the dual assault on your sex.

kabukimono worked his fingers and mouth in perfect harmony, intent on drawing out your pleasure until you were a trembling mess beneath him. his tongue flicked over your clit, alternating between gentle licks and rough sucks.

the sounds of your moans and whimpers as well as his filled the air. once more he curled them, finding that sweet spot that made you gasp and arch your back. with his free hand, he reached up to stroke himself through the thin fabric of his kimono. the friction was deliciously torturous, adding another layer of sensation to the already overwhelming experience. he grunted softly and his movements becoming more erratic as he neared his own edge. he felt like he could cum just by eating you out and hearing your whimpers.

with every stroke, he felt you tighten around his fingers, your body ready to explode under his relentless onslaught. yet, he quickly stopped before you could cum, pulling out his mouth as well as his fingers from your drooling cunt, making you whined needily. chuckling breathlessly, he licked your slick off his fingers before slipping off his kimono, revealing his hard length and pushing it entirely into you.

and instead of letting you cry out, he pressed his lips against yours, silencing you as he jerked into you. your walls immediately clenched around him, signaling that you were close to cumming. kabukimono broke the kiss momentarily, panting heavily as he thrust into you. his cock was thick and hard, stretching you deliciously while he began to move. he grabbed your ass firmly, angling his hips so that he could hit that sweet spot inside you.

his thrusts became more urgent, more fast and hard. with each push he grunted, his voice a low rumble against your skin. you could feel his pulse quickening and his strokes becoming erratic. his lips found yours again, muffling your cries of pleasure. though, there was no hiding the way your body shook underneath him as well as how your inner muscles clenched around him as you teetered on the brink of release.

you yelped in pleasure as he continued to abuse your hole. once more, he pulled out his entire length and slammed it back into you, succesfully making you saw stars as you came with a loud mewl. you breathed heavily, head still dizzy from the pleasure.

he didn't gave you a chance to rest as he relentlessly pounded into you until he could hold back no longer. but before he reached his climax, you could hear him sobbing quietly. "fuck, you feel so good, i don't want this to end..." and he released his seed, filling you up with a cry just as loud as yours.

kabukimono was shaking, his body tensing as he spilled his seed deep inside you, as tears streamed down his cheeks. he slowed down his pace, his thrusts more gentler now as he rode out his orgasm all while his cock twitched inside your clenching walls.

he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. his sobs were quiet, barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat. his body trembled slightly just as he came down from his high and his grip on your thigh loosening. despite everything, there was something undeniably comforting about being close to you. resting his forehead against yours, he took a moment to catch his breath before lifting himself off of you. but even as he did, he couldn't help but pull you closer, craving and needing the contact.

and now you're in his arms as he planted feather-light kisses all over you, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your hands, your arms and your neck as he murmured. "i'm sorry, i apologize deeply, i didn't know what came into me. that must had hurt."

you stared at him dumbfounded, eyes still glassy, speechless as he grabbed the back of your hands and kissed them, including each one of your knuckles. a soft smile then appeared on your face before you placed your hand on his hair, caressing it gently. "don't worry about me, i'm fine. how about you? you should worry about yourself too."

kabukimono looked up at you, his indigo eyes shimmering with unshed tears. he let out a shaky sigh, leaning into your touch. "i'm alright... i think," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. his hands moved to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the remaining tears.

he leaned forward, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your lips. there was nothing forceful or demanding about it; instead, it was slow and gentle, almost reverential. it wasn't often that kabukimono allowed himself such moments of vulnerability, but with you, he seemed unable to resist. he needed you, craved your touch, your affection. and right now, in this moment, he felt truly content.

in the end, you had to wait for him to sleep before getting up and getting ready again for the gathering. the event almost came to an end when you arrived there.

[munsonify]

sought out

pairing. bob reynolds x gn!reader

summary. after a tiring mission, you seek out bob for comfort

content warnings. fluff, established relationships, cuddles, sleeping in the same bed, brief mentions of missions, r overthinking slightly, bob being sweet and sappy

word count. 1305

a/n. idc if i’ve already written a cuddling fic with him. this is what we deserve. it’s what he deserves. enjoy the sweetness, not proofread

———

“my door’s always open.”

that sentiment has stuck with you for the three short months you’d been dating bob. at first, you thought he meant metaphorically. that he was always there for you, and that you were welcome in when he’d offered. you’d slowly realized he meant more than that.

it would start with you knocking on his door, waiting patiently outside for him to answer. you watched his eyes light up when he saw it was you who was there to greet him, ready to ask him to take a walk with you, or if he had something you could borrow. each time, bob would usher you in his room, whether you necessarily needed to or not. you began knocking in hopes to simply come in and spend time with him, to sit next to him and talk to him. he was always so quick to oblige, opening his door wide for you.

bob liked having you around, something you eventually came to realize. he liked your company, he liked having you in his space. you brought comfort to him. one night, in a hushed whisper, bob let break to you that you made him feel at home. his room felt bare, almost empty without you around. it was that same night he let you in on another little secret of his. he loved you, and there was no sense in keeping it in. this love he had for you was practically seeping out of his pores. you’d spent the rest of that night giddy, the new confession filling you both up with so much joy.

tonight, as you slugged through the large tower, your mind went drifting back to bobs words. his door was always open, he felt at home with you, he liked your presence. it was a sentiment you shared, of course you did. all you could think about was having him near you, his warmth radiating onto your body, his steady heartbeat reminding you that everything was okay. the three day long mission you tended to took a toll on you, your body achingly sore and in a desperate need of a shower.

you made yourself shower first, warm water and gentle soap washing away the sweat and some of the tension for your body. this gave you time to stew in your thoughts, toss things over in your mind. all you wanted was to crawl into bed next to bob, relax into his soft blankets, to feel his gentle touch. you decided to yourself that you’d at least make your way over to his room.

with a plaid pair of pajama pants and a hole-y shirt on, eyes drooping with exhaustion and shoulders slouched, you shuffled your way across the hallways of the living quarters. you walked all the way to his room freshly clean, standing right in front of it with hesitation. a shaky breath racked through your body as you contemplated some more. do you knock and wake bob up? or do you simply let yourself in? both felt a little wrong to you, your mind betraying you, going against everything you knew about the man.

he wouldn’t be angry or upset at you for waking him up, even if you’d feel horrible for interrupting his peaceful sleep. he’d be happy to let you in. even then, you decided against it, acting before you could back out. your hand found his doorknob, gently grasping it and turning it, opening it forward as quietly as you could. it only processed with you then that these doors had locks on it, eyes furrowing together as you realize he wasn’t keeping it secured at night.

you just as quietly shut the door behind you, looking over at bobs bed, seeing the lump under the blankets that was definitely him. he was curled up peacefully on one side of the bed, comforter pulled up passed his shoulders, enveloping him in warmth. you tiptoed your way over to his bed, smiling softly at the sight of your boyfriend. he sometimes didn’t sleep well, and you were beyond grateful he was getting his rest. with slight hesitation, your hands gently gripped the sheets, lifting slightly to give yourself room to slide into bed.

the mattress dipped at your weight, something you tried to make slow and subtle, careful to not wake him. bob didn’t seem to notice as you slide into bed, letting the blankets fall over your body comfortably. it was quite easy to settle in next to him, his large body so close to you, presence calming your nerves. while laying on your back, your move your head to the side to admire him. he stirred only a little in his place, something you chalked up to him simply moving during sleep. you fought the urge to reach over to him, to touch him and hold onto him. still, you didn’t want to disturb him. you instead tuned over on your side, back towards his, only inches away from each other.

you spent nearly 10 minutes laying in bed succumbing to your exhaustion, letting it wash over you and drag you slowly into slumber. that’s when you’d felt more shifting beside you, this time a lot more intentional. you slowly realized bob was waking up, a hand of yours reached up to your face, palm rubbing at your closed eyelids. you felt the bed dip as he turns over slightly, his body a little tense as he try’s to process what was happening. you were quick to tense up, suddenly feeling a little ashamed of your decision of showing up unannounced.

any negative feeling you had in your body slipped away at the feeling of bobs hand reaching out to you, meeting your hip in a gentle touch. he slowly began to maneuver himself around, sleep ridden body still acclimating to being awake. a little part of you still expected him to scold you, to say some off handed comment of you coming into his room without permission. even with his strong arms wrapping around your torso, pulling your into him, it nagged in the back of your mind.

and, even if it wasn’t quite how you expected him to, he did scold you.

“should’ve shook me awake,” bob murmured in a low, sleepy voice. you felt him cuddle into you, cheek pressing into your shoulder blade, large hands bracing your opposite sides. “missed you.”

your arms found their way to his in attempt to wrap yourself up tighter in his hold, something he caught onto and obliged to without question. in the same quiet tone, you spoke back to him. “didn’t wanna wake you, looked so peaceful. ‘n’ i missed you more.”

“i’d do anything to see you,” bob said in the most casually sincere voice. your chest tightened up at his words, even more so at how he just said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. the ache in your body all went straight to your heart. the tension in your shoulders melted away as he held you in his arms.

in the same way bob felt at home with you, you felt safe with him. secure. all of your worries left you for the night, the only thing that mattered was being right here with your boyfriend inside of the comfort he provided. it was such effortless feeling he gave you, something you could only find in him. that’s when sleep overtook you, rested in his arms, enveloped in his warmth, swarmed by his scent.

you never questioned what he meant by his door always being open again. not after he left it unlocked for you, not after he left open space in his bed, and not after he welcomed you without a fuss. bob would always be there waiting with open arms.