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#continues to be messed up but just slightly to the left
littlelamy · 2 days
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the aftermath of the fight: s1!rafe x reader
the tension in the cameron estate was thick, almost suffocating, clinging to every corner of the house. the echoes of raised voices were still fresh in your ears as you made your way down the corridor toward rafe’s room. the fight between him and ward had been explosive—a storm of bitter accusations, angry words, and the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. both men had walked away from it bruised, emotionally and physically.
you’d hesitated for a moment, but the silence that followed the chaos made your decision for you. rafe was volatile after moments like this, and the thought of him alone in that headspace made your heart ache.
the door to his room was slightly ajar. you pushed it open softly, stepping inside. the sight before you was both heartbreaking and infuriating. rafe sat on the edge of his bed, fists clenched tight, knuckles white. his face, usually sharp and full of confidence, was clouded with something darker—anger and pain, mingled with exhaustion.
“hey,” you called softly, keeping your voice gentle. “you need anything?”
his head snapped up, eyes meeting yours with a mix of frustration and something softer, more vulnerable. “what the hell are you doing here?” he snapped, voice rough and raw.
you took a deep breath, swallowing the sting his words left. “i’m here to help, rafe. i heard what happened. you’re hurt.”
he scoffed, turning his head away, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “i don’t need your pity.”
ignoring his harshness, you crossed the room and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. he flinched at your touch but didn’t pull away. “i’m not here to pity you,” you said softly. “i just want to make sure you’re okay.”
you knelt in front of him, taking his hands into yours, carefully turning them over to inspect the bruises and cuts that marked his skin.
“shit,” he muttered, wincing as you gently touched one of the scrapes. “this is a mess.”
“i know,” you replied, your tone soothing despite the tension in the air. “but we’ll fix it. let me help.”
he stared at you for a long moment, the frustration in his gaze slowly softening into something like resignation. “why the hell do you put up with me?” he asked quietly, voice barely audible. “i’m a mess.”
you sighed, reaching for the antiseptic. “because i care about you, rafe. and you’re more than just the anger or the pain.”
he looked away, the faintest blush creeping up his neck, shame weighing heavy on his expression. “i just wanted to prove something to him,” he mumbled. “i wanted him to see i’m not just some...”
you waited, dabbing the cloth on one of his cuts. “not just some what?”
“not just some disappointment,” he finished, the words heavy in the quiet room.
you shook your head, continuing to clean his wounds. “you’re not a disappointment, rafe. you’re just... hurting. and that’s okay. it doesn’t make you any less.”
he let out a low groan, eyes squeezing shut in frustration. “i hate this,” he muttered. “i hate feeling so...so weak.”
you paused, looking at him with a firmness he needed to hear. “you’re not weak. it takes strength to admit you’re struggling. and more to let someone help you.”
his hands trembled slightly in yours, and you could see the cracks forming in the walls he always built so high. the vulnerability in him was raw and real, and it tugged at your heart.
“why are you always so damn good to me?” he muttered, half exasperated, half grateful. “i don’t deserve it.”
you finished bandaging the worst of the cuts, sitting back on your heels. “maybe you don’t think you deserve it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”
he looked at you, eyes filled with something between frustration and relief. “you really mean that?”
you nodded, leaning up to pull him into a hug. his hesitation lasted only a moment before he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight, almost like he was scared to let go. the embrace was intense, charged with emotion—his anger, your care, and a shared understanding.
as you pulled back slightly, your gaze locked with his, an unspoken tension hanging in the air. the kiss that followed was slow at first, your lips barely brushing his. but then, it deepened, the softness giving way to something more passionate, more urgent. his hands found your face, holding you close as he poured everything into that kiss—his regret, his need, his longing for something more than what his life had been up to now.
when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, the intensity of the moment still lingering between you. rafe’s eyes were softer now, a little lighter, like the weight he carried had lessened, even if just a little.
“thank you,” he whispered, his voice quiet but sincere. “for being here... for putting up with me.”
you smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “i wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
for a moment, the world outside faded away. the fights, the pain, the weight of everything that had happened—it didn’t matter. in that small, quiet space, it was just the two of you, connected in a way that made the chaos of life feel a little more bearable.
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mattsfootcramp · 1 day
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'Birthday Sex'-M.S
summary: You and the triplets throw a party for their birthday. Matt got a little tipsy...
warnings: FILTHY!! hair pulling, doggy, multiple orgasms, dom! matt, degradation, oral fixations, matt the munch, fingerings, spanking, slapping, blow jobs, use of safe words, smut. plan smut
a/n: I'm just gonna go with the flow on this
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she sat on one of the couches as people were buzzing in the air. music was playing in the background. the smell of sweat lingered in the air.
she was wearing a black and silver sequence dress. one of her boyfriend's favorites out of all her dresses.
it was short and strapless and sexy. she stands up and walks toward the kitchen, where she finds Matt drinking out of a red solo cup.
"Hey, birthday boy. Do you feel it yet?" She asks
"What? the alcohol?" He says, confused
"Yeah.." She answers
"The best iv ever felt." He takes her hand and wraps his other around her waist.
he puts the hand he is holding on her thigh and rubs it gently. he bends down to her ear level.
"How about.. we just take a few steps into my room. How does that sound?" He whispers in her ear. causing shivers to go down her spine from his lustful words
she quickly nods and makes her way to Matt's room. a few minutes later, Matt gets in. be immediately goes to kiss her.
"god y/n... your so fucking perfect...I love you so much" He praises in between kisses
she could taste the alcohol on his lips. but she didn't care she wanted this so bad
Matt's tongue makes its way into her mouth. making their guys' tongues fight for dominance. ultimately, Matt won.
Matt puts his right hand onto the dress near the breast line and pulls it down so her boobs hang out for the air. She hisses as the cold air hits her already hard nipples.
"look at how fucking beautiful you are" He attaches his mouth to her left tit and flicks her right nipple with his hand.
"look at how fucking beautiful you are" He attaches his mouth to her left tit and flicks her right nipple with his hand.she whimpers slightly.
Matt pulls away takes his shirt off places his hands on her shoulders and pushes her down to her kneesshe unbuckles his restricting belt. his cock rock hard. Once she gets his pants off she jerks him off slightly. matt hissing slightly
"oh fuck.. put your mouth on it. be a little slut for me" He puts his hands on the back of her head and thrusts into her mouth
"oh- my god" He picks up the pace. she was gagging softly
she squirms slightly to catch air. he stops thrusting. resting his cock in her mouth. he slaps her across the cheek
"stop fucking moving bitch. You gonna take it like the good girl you are" He roughly sayshe continues his thrusts.
she feels him twitching in her mouth signaling that his close.
"god this mouth- oh fuck- it's all mine...I'm c-cumming" she cums and she swallows
"on the bed ass up face down" He says roughly as he takes his still hard cock out of her mouthshe gets on the bed and puts her face in the pillow
"should I eat you out from behind" making her whine
"it was a joke" He says slapping her ass
He gets behind her and teases her entrance before slamming into her not giving her enough time to adjust to his length and width
"OH fuck matt" his thrusts were fast and rough. He slaps her ass as his hip recole off of it.
"all mine baby.. fuck your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock" he grunts outHe pulls her hair up making her head go up and out of the pillow
"moan louder slut. no one can fucking hear you" making y/n make a pronographic moan matt keeps railing into her
"god fuck... your pussy is sucking me in. your such a little cum slut."
"m-matt. so c-lose" She warns him
"yeah? then cum for me. make a mess like the slut you are
"she releases her cum. her cum floats down his dick making a white ring around the basematt keeps thrusting into her like there no tomorrow
"m-att I can't im to sensitive" She sobs out
"and I don't care. your gonna take it like a little bitch" he pushes her head into the bed more
"oh.. fuck yeah baby take it." he grunts out
"I can't" she sobs out
"yes you can. take it like a little slut" he retorts.his thrusts get faster and harder
"RED RED RED" she screams their safe wordmatt stopped everything he was doing and pulled out of her gently and craddeld her.
"hey I'm so sorry.. come here" his face softens and lays next to her
"it's okay. It just hurt.." She whips a tear
"I'm so sorry.. come here. let's cuddle"
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a/n: this sat in my fucking drafts forever so I finished it up and bro the ending sucks ass but oh well
Taglist: @iluvjakeyy @spicybabysworld @monroesturnns @sturniolo-fann @bernardsbendystraws @hystria-things
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jun3ee · 2 days
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Just a couple minutes (B.K)
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A/N: My personal apology for not writing bill smut, this is maybe my second time, so don’t be afraid to tell me how I did! ALTHOUGH, don’t go too harsh on me 🙂‍↕️ (Making a Tom ver soon if you freaks want 1) Sub! Bill (nb-reader) it’s also a short ass fic so I’m sry (NOT PROOFREAD)
(MDNI) ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈੈ✩‧₊˚
“L-Liebe”
Bill whimpers as you kiss him, getting him worked up before he goes on that big stage again for the last performance. Hearing the people outside continuously yell how much minutes left he has left, but frankly you dont care at all, continuing to straddle his clothed, hard cock as he lets out breathy whines.. Could you help it? Watching the sweat slowly drip down his face after each concert? watching him coming back to the dressing room breathless after performing? the adrenaline pumping in his veins after? Watching him tease you in the crowd by lifting up that shirt of his revealing that sexy tattoo of his, searching through it like a lost puppy trying to find you with those beautiful brown eyes of his that are looking up helplessly into yours right now? Definitely not.
“Out in twenty, Bill!” 
“S-Scheiße” Bill whines, grabbing onto anything as you straddle him, grinding yourself against his clothed cock in those tight black jeans of his, watching the beads of sweat slowly drip down his face as he presses sloppy and needy kisses on your lips, a wet stain already on his boxers from his pre-cum. Watching him tease you on stage carelessly with a little smile on his face was too much, he knew what he was doing, and he knew what he would get for it.
“P-Please Ma-Make me c-” 
Poor Bills cock throbbing and twitching as he breathlessly looks up at you. His voice trembling so cutely, barely coherent words turning into pretty broken whimpers, moans, and cut-off gasps. His hips erratically jerking up and rubbing between your legs as he keeps pressing needy kisses down your neck, his tongue swirling around with yours in a lewd and steamy kiss, the poor boy not even able to express his desperate, throbbing arousal as he grips onto the furniture tightly until his knuckles turn white.
“You wanna cum that badly darling?”
“P-Please” Bill chokes out, “I-Ich werde ein guter Junge sein” He mumbles, pathetically trying to cover his whimpers, anxious to cum in his boxers as he tries holding back for a while although he knew he couldn't for any longer, squirming and turning into a needy mess under you as he grabs your hips. You watch the poor boys face turn into a desperate expression as he bats the tears out of his eyes, rolling them back as you cup his cheek, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.
“Such a slut.. You like that, hm?” You coo, grinding on him while slightly increasing your speed, he pathetically nods, his eyebrows furrowed with pure lust and need in his eyes, his own words turning into whimpers and whines,
“Use your words” You say, watching Bill let out broken gasps as he throws his hands on your hips,
“I-I’m c-cumming-! ” He chokes out, doing just that. His hot essence bursting through his boxers, his body going limp as he finally reaches his climax, his bottom lip quivering as he completely spaces out…
“W-We still have a little more time d-don’t we?” He whimpers…
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breedtheseed · 17 hours
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Bird sinner Adam
Him and Lucifer have a thing where they sleep together every so often after a fight or something however, at some point Adam just storms off. Even when Lucifer gets more into the flirting and caressing side of their banter.
Come to find out Adam is expecting, Lucifer of course only realizes this when Adam slaps him. They had been flirting and Lucifer was kissing Adams neck while his hand went into Adams pants, Adams moans going from breathy and desperate to breathy laughs.
Adam chuckling: that's enough
But Lucifer continues and Adam gets more direct until finally her pushes Lucifer and slaps him, Lucifer is in shock while watching Adam walk away. He's confused because they had done stuff like that before not to mention it'd been awhile since they'd had sex, he was a bit pent up.
Lucifer felt like something was off and when Adam left his room the devil slithered inside as quietly as possible. The room looked normal, or at least normal for Adam. Until Lucifer saw that the closet was slightly open, curiosity got the better of him as he opened the door. At first he thought the mess of clothes was just that, a mess, but further examination and Lucifer lifting one of his coats revealed three golden eggs.
Lucifer blinked at the three of them, as if they would just vanish if he blinked slow enough.
They were about the size of his fist, which to Adam that was small. And picking one up Lucifer realized it had some weight to it, unconsciously Lucifers wings unfolded and he felt the ugly urge to keep the eggs warm. Lucifer looked at his watch before he even attempted to get comfortable in the nest, arranging the eggs so they tucked under his wings. A pleased smirk rising to his lips when he realized these were definitely his eggs, and he definitely knocked Adam up.
When Adam returned he was frustrated and a little horny, not being able to fuck after laying the eggs was a fucking pain. And he couldn't just put himself to Lucifer, though a part of him did feel bad about slapping him. The other felt like Lucifer deserved it from never picking Adam unless it was for sex.
Adams eyes shot open when he found Lucifer asleep in his nest, wings cupping three golden eggs. Adam felt his feathers puff a little from unknown arousal. Seeing the devil protecting his eggs made a part of his lizard or more like bird brain chirp with approval.
(that's all I got)
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tame-the-lion-writes · 21 hours
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[arthur morgan] the stories stars tell
This is reposted from my AO3!
Every night, Arthur Morgan is visited by a face that slips from his grasp the moment he wakes up. And then, one fateful evening, he finds himself meeting a stranger at the saloon, whose presence feels like the nostalgia of a storybook.
tags: modern au, reincarnation
Illusory.
A girl from a daydream, caught in a nightmare. A breath of fresh air in the fields of the Heartlands, a flame purer than any fuel from the grounds. And as far as Arthur was concerned – imaginary.
“... Damnit.”
It’s a soft whisper of pain as she passes through his fingers again, features blurring until he can see her no more in the dark of closed eyes. He then passes into consciousness, morning sun streaming through the window, dust floating about as though remnants of the woman left behind. In the dry air, there lingers the scent of flowers – those his dream-self had crushed nervously in all-too-rough hands, tentative in pining approach.
He runs those rough hands over his face now, feeling the leathery skin and clearing the sleep from his eyes.
The alarm hasn’t sounded, but he sheds the cotton sheets from his body, swinging ever-sore legs over the edge of the bed. Calloused fingers mess aimlessly with the phone charging nearby before they finally manage to make their way to the clock app – shitty technology, no? – and switch off the bell before it can ring. There was only five minutes left, anyway.
But he couldn’t wait to go back to sleep.
** * **
Wake up. Work. Sketch. Drink. Such had been Arthur’s routine for nearly ten months, yet beneath it all, was a longing that stretched beyond years. Tangible years, even.
Every ride into town, every race on his steed was a moment of deja vu. Perhaps that could be chalked up to Valentine simply being his hometown – he’d never left the place as far as he knew – but there was something else that kept him tied to the place. Something that often made him doze off with eyes wide open, as though something was falling into place while falling apart. Something about second chances. 
Some days, he’d walk into the saloon like he did now and wonder why he felt so empty in the only place that made him whole.
After taking off his hat, shrugging off his leather jacket, and hanging both on the coatrack by the bar’s front door, Arthur Morgan let a heavy sigh run through him. God, after the shitshow that was today’s work — a bull breaking down the fence, and a lamb that passed — he was in desperate need of a drink. “A whiskey, will ya?” he hummed, sliding a bill over the countertop. He then paused before adding another. “You know what? Make that two.”
– “Two off the bat?”
The young woman – you – who just happened to be sitting a seat over, a beer to her lips. speaks up.
– “Bad day, huh?”
Arthur glances over his shoulder with a raised brow. Unfamiliar face, unfamiliar smile – and yet, something so oddly comfortable about her presence, as if she had been there the whole time.
“You could say that,” he replied gruffly, accepting the two whiskeys from the bartender with a brief nod of thanks. He downs the first shot in one go, hissing slightly at the burn, before continuing– “Bull broke outta the fence, one of the lambs took a turn. Just… nothin’ going right today.”
“Ah,” she exhales, followed by a slight frown. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
He nods once, then takes the second shot slower. And orders a third. “Ain’t seen you around here before. You just passin’ through?”
“Mm. Came from the city," she confesses with a small smile, turning slightly to face him in. "And yeah-- just passing through. Roadtrip through the states. Had to get away from civilization.”
"City folk, huh?" Arthur says with a wry smile. He shakes his head knowingly. "Can't say I blame you for wantin' to get away. Must get awful cramped in those big places. Well, welcome to Valentine. Cozy little spot, but I reckon it's a sight better than the city."  It’s then that he extends a hand in greeting. "Name's Arthur. Arthur Morgan. Been here most of my life, so if you need any pointers on the area or get yourself in a spot of trouble, you let me know. Where you headin’ next?”
"You seem nice enough. Might take you up on that offer," she laughs, though it’s clear she doesn’t expect much surprise on her trip. “I’m going south to Lemoyne. Rhodes. I like the weather here so far, though. All nice and open -- but if I'm honest, I bet the view was better a hundred years ago. Must've been nicer without all the noisy cars, and all the people."
She pauses for a moment, lowering her beer.
“I mean, not that I hate people. But I dunno. The world feels so claustrophobic these days, not just the city. A part of me longs for the wild, but maybe that's just the silly ideals of a city slicker."
Arthur raises his brow thoughtfully at her words. She spoke with a wistfulness, a longing for a simpler time, that resonated deep within him in a way he couldn't explain. 
"The wild, huh? Can't say I blame you for feelin' that way," he replies, taking his third shot as he gazes out the window into the fading light of dusk. "World's changin' fast these days. Gets louder and more crowded every year. Sometimes I think about saddlin' up my horse and just ridin' out into the open country, leavin' it all behind. Find a bit of peace… Maybe a hundred years ago is when I'da liked to been alive too. Less rules, less noise. A man could still live free." 
Draining the last of his whiskey, he sets the glass down and meets her curious gaze. "Hey– you ever ride before? I got an extra horse if you wanna see the countryside before headin' south."
At that, the woman nearly snorts on her next sip of beer.
"Oh, god, no-- I haven't been on a horse since I was a kid. God knows I'd get reared off or something."
Arthur chuckles at her response. "Well then, consider this your chance to relearn. I won't let nothin' happen to ya, promise. It'll do you some good to get outta the city mindset. And my horse Freckles’ as gentle as they come. Perfect for gettin' your feet wet again." 
Sliding off his barstool, Arthur tips his hat politely.
"What do you say, miss? Fancy a ride through the countryside before dark? I'll even buy you another beer after, if you don't get yourself thrown." 
“Before I say yes to such a charming, mysterious cowboy-- promise not to kidnap me or something?"
“Promise.”
** * **
"Easy boy," Arthur soothes, running a hand along the stallion’s neck before turning to you. "Now just put your foot here, and swing your leg over. I'll be right behind ya."
Once you’re settled in the saddle, Arthur mounts up behind you, taking the reins in hand. 
"Alright, you're all set. Just relax and go with his gait. I won't let anything happen."
With a soft click of his tongue, Arthur nudges Freckles – aptly named due to his speckled brown coat – into an easy walk, guiding them down the dusty main street as the last glow of sunset paints the sky.
"What do you think so far? Feeling any braver about horses yet?"
"I'm certainly more comfortable with such a sturdy backrest," you huff gently, hands grasping the horn – though you’re sure the only reason you’re not falling off is because he’s there to lean into. To think you were just talking back at the saloon, and now out here and alone. But there’s no hesitance to this quiet intimacy, riding out beneath the sky. He felt familiar back at the bar. He feels familiar now.
Back to his chest and shoulders rising and falling in unison.
“Obliged,” he replies, a chuckle evident from the rumble against your back. "We’ll be headin’ over to Horseshoe Overlook. Just a little ways outta town – got the finest view, both day and night.”
He guides Freckles into a leisurely amble, taking the long way around town so his new companion can soak in the sights and sounds of rural life. Lamplight glows warmly beyond glass windows as the sky deepens to indigo overhead.
"Pretty little place, ain't it?" Arthur asks softly. "Not as flashy as the city, but it suits me just fine."
You take a deep breath, letting the cool air seep into your bones.
"The less flashy, the better. I've always liked places where you could see the sky. No telephone wires or skyscrapers. Just me and the big blue. Feels right that way."
"The city folks, they never seem to look up," Arthur muses softly. "Most city folk, that is – no offense. Too busy rushin' around, missin' all the simple beauty right above their heads. Out here, that's all a body needs to feel at peace." 
"Ha-- none taken. When I was younger, my parents had a playground in the backyard. Used to climb up there nearly every night just to watch the sunset above all the houses, all by my lonesome. That was until a buncha black widows took over the playground, and I couldn't go up anymore without fear of getting bit. Ever since, I’ve also been too busy to look up. Forget to in the hustle and bustle of things."
Arthur chuckles at your story, guiding Freckles to where buildings fade into forested countryside. 
"Black widows, huh? Nasty critters, those ones. Can't say I blame you for wantin' to keep away." 
Freckles follows a dirt path down a grassy slope, and Arthur reins the horse to a halt near a wide, slow-moving stream. Fireflies dance over the glassy water like floating lights as crickets and frogs serenade the deepening night.  Dismounting, returns to help you down, hands lingering a moment on your waist before dropping away.
"Reckon this is as good a spot as any to take in the sky. Not a building or soul in sight. Care to join me for a spell?”
At his question, you smirk. “Can’t exactly say no and go on running or riding back to town now, can I?”
Arthur just shakes his head with a grin and crouches down, patting the grass next to him. “Suppose not, miss.”
Soon, you’re settled next to him, having folded your arms across your knees to keep warm. Your eyes go soft at the sight of fireflies, and you fall even quieter as they dance around your hands. The city was never… well, if you thought about it proper–
"You know... this is the first time I've seen fireflies,” you whisper. “Too sensitive to pollution that, hell, even on all my previous roadtrips, I've never seen them."
Arthur smiles in sympathy as he watches the fireflies flitting about. "Ain't they somethin' special?"
Silence falls as you two soak in the darkening sky, and the stars that both rise from the earth and shine from above. Arthur leans back on one elbow, gazing up at the inky sky – and you do the same. So many lights – each its own tiny world, just as alone yet together in the empty.
"You watched the sunset – I used to stargaze as a boy," Arthur says, breaking the silence. A gentle sigh escapes him. "Memorized so many constellations… Seems like a lifetime ago now. But sometimes I still like to find the patterns, let my mind wander free like it did back then. I– I know it’s an odd question to ask a practical stranger, but… what do you suppose those stars might say, if they could talk?"
You chuckle, looking over at him.
"Odd question indeed, but I’ll entertain it.”
With a scoot, you move closer as to further shelter against the cold.
“They'd probably tell a million stories of a million lives gone by. Could be dying or gone, as far as we know, but we still see the light. Proof that they ever existed."
“Must be nice tellin’ stories. Another silly thought: imagine becoming a star. You pass, then you fly on up there – tell stories about yourself, of everyone you ever knew. Everyone you ever loved.”
After a long time looking up at the stars, his blue eyes shift to look into yours, and he goes all quiet again.
“... You ever loved someone, Mister Morgan?”
Your unfamiliar face, unfamiliar smile – and yet, something so oddly comfortable. Like a girl from a daydream.
“Think I have. And I’m startin’ to.”
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Welcome Two The After Show Part 2
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Pairing: Possessive Boyfriend Christian Yu x Fem!Reader
Genre: Smut (Minors DNI)
Synopsis: Smutty continuation of Welcome To The Aftershow
Content Warning: Smut, fingering, hair grabbing, biting, marking, crying, petnames (darling, babe, beautiful, good girl)
Networks: @othersideoutlawsnetwork
Just as much as he promised to care for you, it was equally as much of torture. Every whisper of his breath played against your lips, smirking down at you when you'd whine and beg for more. Today was a special day after all. Now that your relationship was officialized, now that you were finally his, oh the way he loved gazing over what belonged entirely to him.
His fingers drew calculated circles around your clit, applying just enough pressure to drive you mad but pulling back every time your hips bucked, not letting you have more than he'd allow you to. With every raise of your hips, it was met with the force of his palm, easing you back down. "Behave" he'd warn as his hand played across your core, rubbing your arousal across your folds, making of mess of you beneath your leggings. You'd whine and beg impatiently, whimpering as he teased you so and he'd only continued to rub firmer, slower circles, leaning his head down to nip and suck at your neck, leaving mark after mark until he'd kiss you again, waiting for your full silence before teasing your sensitive bean once again.
He'd never felt so addicted.
This... power he had over you. He could get used to this.
"Christian", you moaned a breathy whine, your lips trembling. The way your cheeks burned, eyes nearly watering as they looked up at you, pleading for release. "If only you could see how beautiful you look beneath me, darling..." he presses a kiss to your temple before continuing "just keep looking at me, babe... let me see how pretty you are".
Your cheeks burned as he watched your expressions shift and change with every movement, never once fully letting you have it. A greedy smile played on his face as your moans shifting softer then louder were like music to his ears, a beautiful melody meant for two. Once he's had his fill, his fingers graze down, playing at the front of your entrance, pressing down as he circles the spot, causing your breath hitch abruptly. "Christian" you whined once more.
"Come sit up onto your knees, baby".
Just as he asks, you comply, parting your legs slightly, one hand on the couch backing and the other on his shoulder for stability. "And now?" you ask, curiously. "And now, you can afford to be rewarded, at least, just a bit." With one hand, he pats and caresses the back of your head, "Good girl" he says, bringing you closer to kiss you messily once again. His hand reaches back within your leggings, finding a home between your lips, rubbing and teasing the entrance before entering you, knuckles deep to begin with. His thick fingers spreading you out as your tight grip struggles to fit him. He pulls back to face you, his free hand still caressing the back of your head. "Use me to your liking, darling. Let me see your pretty face has you ride my hand" After all the wait, you didn't waste a moment to take him up on the offer. You angle your body to the most fitting posture to ride his fingers out, exclaiming obscenities left and right as his fingers work your knowingly, targeting your sensitive spots within, his thumb working magic across your clit.
His free hand comes forward along your face, stroking your cheekbones, admiring you in full ecstasy right in front of him. His thumb strokes across your bottom lip. Your mouth opens up, almost instinctively to run your tongue beneath his thumb, taking it into your mouth for sucking. He pulls it back out, wiping a messy saliva string across your lips and cheek. The way you're looking at him, the look in your eyes as you'd let him do just about anything to you in this moment, and oh, to see you come undone.
He rages forward, his lips violently crashing against yours as you're leaned back, his fingers pounding into your relentlessly. Not a moments breath between either of you as he works you so expertly, it's only a matter of time until you "Come for me" he commands, his tone impatient. His hand reaches back in a grip of your hair, pulling your head back, biting and marking your neck as your walls flutter around his thrusting fingers.
Down halls and across multiple dressing and waiting rooms, your cries can be heard by all. The sound of his name at the top of your lungs, confirming everyone's prior suspicions. Learning all at once who your belong to, who gives you the pleasure you've always come back to. A knowing smirk plays on his lips, as he lifts your head back to look him in the eyes once more, in the height of your orgasm, his fingers press firmly and deeply into your walls, coursing shivers across your body as he finishes you off, just like that.
His arm wraps around your waist, holding you up to help you adjust, allowing his fingers to leave your body. "That's it, beautiful. Now that everyone's sure to know you're mine..." he brushes your hair behind your ear, looking you deep in the eyes.
"Let's get you back home, where the real fun begins~"
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Charn: okay, tinn, I've learned my lesson, I won't live my life only trying to get money and power for myself
Tinn: Great!
Charn: instead I'll live my life trying to get money and power for you!
Tinn: wait, no!!!
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sysig · 1 year
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Duet Battle (Patreon)
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lovegasmic · 21 days
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I need horny ass baby daddies who want another babyyyyyyyy AHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭
 𝜗𝜚 BABY, BABY DADDY !
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──── . ꒰ satoru , toji , real form sukuna x f!reader ꒱ 
꒰ nsfw : lactation kink w satoru◞ this is nasty but very loving fyi◞ obvious creampie◞ breeding kink ꒱ taglist
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 ✶  SATORU
baby daddy Satoru pops a boner when he sees a tit out. a whole ass freak, in your opinion.
“i’m feeding your son!” your words are a grumble that hold no annoyance, you’re rather, amused.
only receiving a smirk and a hand raised like an obedient child asking for permission to talk, “i go next” your husband is not one to joke around.
the baby is in the crib and the monitor on the nightstand, rattling slightly by the movement of the bed scarping against it, “fuck, baby, you get hotter each fuckin’ day” his words are barely audible from how his lips are attached to a tender nipple, more like a sloppy mumbling along suckling and nibbling, not to mention the growing groans rolling out of Satoru’s lips with every little drop of sweet milk landing on his eager pinky tongue.
“mmphm, tastes... so good...” slurps and licks are heard, mixed with wet, creamy slaps of your gushing cunt around the fat girth of his cock, unsure of who’s more excited, Satoru or you?
the prospect of breeding you is more than enough for the blue eyed to go insane, fuck to breed is what he believes, every load of cum should be shot into your womb, is his motto.
hips so mean and rough, a bit out of place with how soft fingertips massage into the plump flesh of your tits, and to be honest, it’s a bit too sexy how he needs no support on your hips to have you pinned and taking cock like a champ
“gonna put another baby in you” it’s a promise, and Satoru has always been a man of his word, speeding up the pace and you wonder how much stamina he has left in that sweaty, muscular —and covered in nail scratches— body of his.
it’s so lewd how the bed creaks and your pussy flutters, sucking in every inch, every delicious drop of cum splattered into your needy walls. a thick jet of sperm gushing straight into your fertile womb.
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 ✶  TOJI
a low-key cocky Toji, won’t admit how much he wants to fuck another baby into you, and instead, puts the blame on you.
“just admit you want another one” voice thick, low and slightly breathless with how hard his cock slams into you from below, with heavy breeding balls continuously slapping your spread and gushy pussy lips. if he does not want another baby, why is he fucking you within an inch of your life?
you babble, a bit stupid already and grateful that little Megumi is out playing with his friends, “u-ungh... wa-nna... haah..." how he adored to fuck your brains out.
cock twitching and adding another layer of lubrication with that wave of precum, arms tightly wrapped around your waist and keeping your squirming body against his chest with soft tits jiggling right above his biceps.
“oh, yes you do, doll, you want to get pregnant so bad” he did too, want to impregnate your womb again, “you need my cum so deep into this soaked pussy of yours, she needs it”
a bubbling, choked squeak escapes your lips, unable to stop the wild flutter and slick gushing out of your overly stretched hole, causing it to suck onto Toji’s veiny cock abusing your insides.
it was a little surprising how easily Toji turned you into a mess of tears and sex fluids, easing the just newly discovered ache inside your cunt, the need to get fuckin’ bred.
and that’s what he does, cumming almost as if on cue, filling your burning walls with that thick and pearly white cum that oozes out of your filled pussy.
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 ✶  SUKUNA
Sukuna loves you, truly, but that does not necessarily mean he’s letting you top.
there’s just something primal, something like a need clawing inside his chest, the urge to have you pinned to his mercy, reduced to a beautiful mess as your eager pussy takes cock down the hilt, up down, up down, turned into something similar to a sex doll, and you love it, or else you wouldn’t be sobbing and dripping onto the floor with a mix of Sukuna’s previous loads pumped into your cunt, too thick and large to be completely inside.
“tsk, it’s dripping, I need to fuck another into you” ah, a poor excuse to slap your clitoris with the head of his cock, collect his cum oozing out of your hole and plunge it back in, with two hands holding your arms back, and the two left on your hips to move you to his liking, “by the time i’m done with you, you won’t remember your name”
a promise or a threat?
the first option, already having you babbling his name as another intense orgasm washes over you.
a heir, a heir, a heir, that was what Sukuna used to ramble your ears off, now his excuse is how he needs to have a large household, with little brats that look like the both of you.
Sukuna was not even that desperate to have a baby at first, he was not even interested to be honest, but after your first, watching your cute body turn even softer and how much the little baby looked like you, it almost became a ritual for the man to fuck at least five loads into your cunt, with semen as potent as his, you knew you were pregnant as soon as the first one got in, but... there is no way in hell Sukuna is letting you go without having you full.
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Simon Riley was a man who was quiet in bed. Occasionally, you’d hear a soft groan, or a curse escape his lips as he buried himself further inside of you. But other than that he was relatively mute in the bedroom.
Tonight, you decided, would be different. You would do anything in your power to hear those sweet noises you just knew your husband could make.
He was above you, languidly and silently thrusting into you, save for a small grunt here or there. He was very much a man that liked to be in charge, liked to control the pace.
So to say he was surprised when you flipped both of you over, was an understatement. You hovered yourself over him, your soaked core practically dripping onto his cock.
Simon looked up at you with a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. “Well, this is a treat. You wanting to take charge, baby?”
You bit your lip softly as you got yourself comfortable, your fingers finding purchase on Simon’s chest. “Wanna make you feel good, Si.”
When you rammed yourself back down onto his thick length, Simon let out euphoric moan causing your walls to clench down around him. He sounded fucking heavenly, and you needed more of it.
“Need to hear you, Si, please.” You begged, your eyes fluttering shut as you continued your steady pace. You always loved this position, you loved when Simon let you be in control. You loved to be the one fucking him.
Simon gave you a wicked smile, his hands giving your hips a firm squeeze as he helped guide your hips. “That right, sweet girl? Does me making some noise make that pretty little pussy clench around me?”
You bit back a moan at his filthy words as your walls clenched around him once more, your nails digging crescents into Simon’s muscular chest. “P-please.”
“Go on then, love. Be a good girl and make me.” Simon was an absolute tease in the bedroom, but you fucking loved it.
Your hands found Simon’s, moving them up slowly so that they now rested on your breasts, his large hands completely encompassing each of them. The way he squeezed at the supple flesh had your wet walls closing down around his length, practically holding it in a vice grip.
Simon truly wanted to tease you further, he loved riling you up to the point where you’d get that cute pout he’d loved so damn much- but the way you looked fucking yourself stupid on his cock, mixed with the way your pussy felt just so fucking good clenched around him, he lost all his willpower.
“Fuck, that’s my girl. Taking my cock so fucking well.” Simon groaned, his pretty scarred lips falling open, his brow furrowing slightly. A string of moans left his mouth as you dug your nails further into his chest, the movement of your hips growing frenzied as you chased your high. “So good for me.”
Simon no longer bit back his moans, no longer held in his soft cries of pleasure, he became a grunting, groaning mess beneath you. The pleasure for him was overwhelming, between the way you took charge, the way you clenched around him and the way you yourself sounded? He was fucking ruined.
And you fucking loved it.
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ilygetou · 1 year
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satoru eating you out through your panties <3
C/W: overstimulation, attempts of dirty talk, just satoru messily playing with your pussy from above your panties while also attempting to eat you out (๑˙ー˙๑).
NOTE. here’s the continuation/pt2 of this thirst.
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“relax...” he coos, his voice soft and gentle. Your legs were wrapped around his neck, your breath hitching every time he’d go in to lick your pussy from above your panties. Body squirming and eyes going hazy.
“satoru no, i–i...” your voice caught short once gojo started rubbing his fingers on your clit, “c’mon baby, wanna do the same thing you did to me,” he kept rubbing slow circles around your clit, your panties getting drenched with your slick, you stared back at gojo with droopy eyes, gripping his hair once he dived in to give your cunt a kiss.
Your panties were already so drenched which resulted into having your cunt visible from above the wet undergarments, the fabric was thin that every time gojo spreads your folds with his fingers, your panties move slightly to the side–giving your boyfriend a small peek of your exposed cunt.
Gojo had a sheepish grin on his face which immediately curved into a wide smirk once he looked up to meet your half-lidded eyes as your mouth hung ajar—low pants leaving you. He kept rubbing your clit through your panties while his mouth went in and started licking on your slit, slightly pushing the thin fabric of your panties against your hole.
“s-satoru...” a shattered whine of his name left you, making gojo look up to you once again, his mouth still attached to your clothed cunt. “hm?” he managed to let out but came out a little bit muffled. “Please, w-want more,” satoru backed away—a chuckle escaping him.
“Nuh-uh, wanna have you experience the same feeling i experienced” gojo reattached his mouth to your now see-through panties, he swirled his tongue around your clit before playfully biting on it—which caused you to gasp & tighten your grip on satoru’s hair.
He’s wrapping his lips over your clit once again, feverishly suckling on the swollen flesh. Satoru was tempted to just move your panties to the side and eat you out like a starved man who hadn’t eaten in weeks. The idea was enticing but satoru wasn’t about to give up so easily. Even if he’s currently losing his mind to actually get a taste of your pussy.
“S-Satoru—please, s’close!” satoru’s tongue was dancing over your folds, warping and swiveling the mushy flesh until your legs started to shake you arched your back as loud moans left you, as your hand was still gripping satoru’s locks tightly.
Fat tears rolled down your cheeks with your jaw slightly hanging open but no words were escaping your lips, your body spasmed, your grip on satoru’s hair loosened as you held onto the sheets underneath you instead—before you came really hard, drenching your panties even more with your cum.
Satoru was kneading the soft flesh of your thighs as he looked up to you, licking his lips, practically tasting your cum on his tongue already. You swallowed thickly, meeting his intense gaze on you and before you could mutter or say anything— satoru has beat you to it.
“I’m not done with you just yet,” satoru had a shit-eating grin as he moved your panties to the side, revealing the mess that was hidden beneath the thin fabric.
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sturnsdarling · 26 days
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'just need t'feel you around me'
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part two of 'are you still awake?', Chris cant keep his hands off y/n once they make amends after an argument.
vibe check: pure SMUT, needy!chris, bigdick!chris, spooning position, sleepy!reader, needy!reader, 'skip the foreplay' type sex, all that good shit you get the vibes, falling asleep with it inside after sex (I wont tell you to wrap it but i will tell you to GO FOR A PISS AFTER YOU FUCK YOU DON'T WANT A UTI)
1.1k words
A/N: thankyou for all the love on part one hehe. soft and needy chris makes my toes curl like i'm biting the pillow as we speak. also you just know that chris is chatty as fuck during sex, kid loves the stimulation that comes with dirty talk so this is very verbal lol i hope you guys don't mind
love and cigs, merc
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...."I jus' need t'feel you around me" Chris whispered, pulling his stiff length from his black boxers and pumping himself slightly into the curve of your ass.
You whined tiredly, the soft pressure of his leaking tip against your fleshy skin making you somewhat desperate, despite how adamant you were on Chris 'doing all the work'
Chris chuckled at your needy whines, "you still tired, ma?", he said, as he stroked his cock along your wet and puffy folds, collecting all your juices on his tip.
"mhm" you whimpered, stretching slightly and arching your back into him, the tip of his cock pressing into your hole ever so slightly with your movement.
Chris sucked the air around him in through his teeth, the very brief sensation of your sopping hole around him making him feel a little lightheaded. He pushed his cock between your folds, letting it push through them and into the soft skin of your thighs as they pressed together, palming the flesh of your ass with bruising pressure as he pulled your cheeks apart, edging his thumb painfully close to your core.
"so wet f'me and I ain't even touched you" He said in a low hum, a cheesy smirk forming on his face as he dipped his thumb into your pussy.
Your whole body shifted at the sensation, arching back into him even more as he ducked an arm in between you and the bed, wrapping it up and round you, taking a handful of your tit in his hand.
"mphm, Chris" you whined softly into the plush white pillow.
"hmm, I love it when you're all sleepy like this, baby, s'soft n' sexy" He said, peppering wet kisses along the curve of your shoulder and up to bite softly at your earlobe as he continued to tease your hole with slow thrusts between your folds.
"need you, Chris" you said through a whimper.
"m'right here, ma, what d'you need from me, huh? tell me" He whispered in your ear, a cheshire cats smile spread across his face as he felt you begin to push back onto his hips, his cock growing painfully hard as it leaked pre-cum over the soft, fleshy skin of your thighs.
"need you t'stretch me out, Chris, please" you brought your arm round behind you and raked your fingers though his hair, tugging at the root slightly.
A low and gravelly moan left Chris' throat and, with your begging, he was a desperate mess. He pulled his hips back from your ass, lining himself up with your glistening hole, his hand still gripping your ass and the other rubbing and pinching at your hardened nipple. He pressed his throbbing tip inside of your gummy walls, the sensation of you immediately clenching around him causing him to instinctively buck into you, bottoming out instantly.
A pornographic whine left your throat as Chris' teeth clenched around your shoulder, the sting of his cock stretching you out coupled with the warm pressure of his tongue, soothing over the mark forming on your shoulder made your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Chris' pumped in and out of you at an agonising pace, pulling out almost completely only to be sucked back in by your clenching, sopping hole.
"christ, baby, y'so fuckin tight around me" He moaned, pulling at the flesh of your ass before slapping the skin lightly.
You tugged harder on his hair, and he pushed his hand up and over your hip, dipping his long fingers down to find your puffy clit as he kept his agonising pace, fucking into you desperately slow.
He rubbed slow circles over your clit, your head hanging back on its hinge into his warm chest, a soft moan leaving your open mouth.
"thats it, jus' feel it baby, you feel so fuckin' good, so fuckin' good" He whispered gentle praises into your ear as he fucked into you, the pressure of his fingers against your clit making your whole body tingle.
All you could do was moan in response, your vision going blurry as your high was fast approaching, a familiar knot forming in your stomach as you clenched harder around Chris' cock.
"I never wanna fight with you again, princess, love ya too much to ever make you wanna go to bed without me ever again" He pressed warm, open mouth kisses along the side and back of your neck.
"I love you too, Chris, s'much" you whimpered.
Chris near enough growled into your ear at the sound of you telling him you love him, as if he hadn't heard it a thousand times. He picked up his pace slightly, fucking into you harder as he rubbed steady circles around your clit.
"tell me again, baby, tell me you love me, please"
"I love you, Chris" you moaned out, his faster pace bringing out closer and closer to your release.
"mphm, keep saying it, I love it when you say it" he grunted into your skin, chasing his own high now.
"fuck, I love you" your thighs started to shake as your stomach tensed completely, the act of telling him you love him as he desperately fucks into you only serving to turn you on more.
"oh shit, y'gonna make me cum, cum with me please, ma, cum all over my dick" Chris' hips began to stutter against your ass.
As if it was a reflex, Chris telling you to cum did exactly that, and your whole body shook in his grip as you released sticky hot cum all over his length, the juices forming a white ring around his base. "I love you, I love you, I love you" you whimpered out, clenching around him like a vice as you came.
"I love you more, princess, I lov-" Chris' words were cut off by a guttural moan as he came inside of you, his long threads of white cum painting your insides.
He stuttered into you, using his cum as lube as he rode out his high, unable to pull himself from you, desperate for the warmth your wet pussy provided.
Soft moans filled his room as he came to a halt, resting his head down onto your shoulder as you caressed his tousled hair.
"might jus' stay like this for a little longer, don't think i've had enough a'you yet" Chris said, bringing his arm up and pulling you into him, locking around you as he nestled his hips into your ass.
You let out a tired chuckle, nodding and curling back into him. Chris' warm skin pressed against yours, coupled with his tight grip around you lulled you to sleep almost instantly, and Chris wasn't far behind. You fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other with his dick still tucked snug between your walls.
Even though arguing with Chris was horrible, the make-up sex was always worth it.
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taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10
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yeyinde · 1 month
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(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭
are you planning on writing any more for either of those?
ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.
stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.
Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.
Your dog does not like strangers.
He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.
He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.
But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.
You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.
And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.
Or so you thought.
But he's been acting strange lately.
You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.
It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 
As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.
It's small—at first. 
He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.
He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.
"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"
But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.
Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—
There's nothing to worry about.
He'll protect you.
But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—
He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.
It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 
The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—
They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.
Something thick, firm between your thighs—
Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.
Baby will protect you. 
Always. 
But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—
It's not normal.
He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.
But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 
Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—
No. You're just—
Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.
You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.
"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"
His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 
When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—
You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.
A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—
A wet dream.
—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 
You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 
It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 
Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—
It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.
A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.
This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.
And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.
He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.
There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,
your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—
You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 
It doesn’t matter, though. 
The man has been watching from the beginning. 
Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.
His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.
"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—
Baby growls.
He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.
But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 
The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.
"Baby—?"
"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”
He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 
"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 
You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 
The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 
"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."
Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—
Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 
“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 
You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 
“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—
It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—
There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 
And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—
But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 
“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”
His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.
"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.
He has you.
Your submission makes him purr.
"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"
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dilf-c0nn0isseur · 2 months
Note
can you please do a face riding fic with logan and fem reader???
say less🫡
riding logans face - logan howlett x fem!reader
NSFW! MDNI!
"C'mere baby," beckoned Logan. "I wanna taste you."
The huskiness of his voice made your insides burn with desire for him. You didn't wait a single second crawling over the bed to where he was laying, propped up with his back against the wall. You situated yourself beside him and slowly spread your legs open, expecting him to move and go down on you, but he didn't.
"Logan?," you questioned, shooting him a confused look. Did he not just ask to give you head?
There was no response as you watched him slide down against the pillows until he was laid almost flat, head slightly angled against the pillow behind him. With two fingers, he brought them to his chin and tapped. He was motioning you to sit on his face. Your mouth dropped. "Logan, I don't know about that."
"What'ya worried about Bub?"
"I mean," you stammered, "I don't wanna like- suffocate you."
The broody man rolled his eyes at you. "Do I look like I give a fuck?" He continued before you could protest again. "Now, stop being stubborn and sit on my face."
Hell, you couldn't argue with that.
You sat up and swung one leg over the side of his face, hovering above him. Only a couple of inches separated the two of you. A growl rose in his throat. "I told you to sit on my face doll." There was an undertone of annoyance in his voice. He didn't like to ask twice. "Let me help you out." With this, he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you down on him. He buried his nose in your cunt, taking a long inhale of your scent. A groan left his lips and vibrated against your core.
You moaned at this sudden contact and lost complete control of yourself. Your full weight was sat on him as he began working at your clit. The lap of his tongue against your clit at this angle felt different and heavenly. You pressed your hands against the wall in front of you above the bed frame for stability.
"I wanna be fucking buried in this pussy," Logan growled between swipes of your pussy.
His tongue found your entrance and forced itself in, lapping at your walls. He ate you like he was starved and you were his last meal. As his tongue slid out, he flattened it and licked a slow stripe back up to your throbbing clit. You felt him start flicking it back and forth against it horizontally and you cried out his name. "Fuck Logan, I'm gonna cum."
Still buried in your pussy, he encouraged you towards your release. "Do it baby, cum on my fucking face."
You let yourself unravel on top of him, screaming his name. He continued with his tongue against your clit until you started to fall from your climax, in which he responded by nuzzling his face back and forth against your pussy, covering himself in your cum. You shook as you finally slid down, laying on top of him.
"Holy shit," you sighed with disbelief. "That was fucking amazing."
You glanced up at him to see his face and beard glistening with the remnants of you. "You look like a mess."
He ran his tongue over his lips, savoring every last bit of your taste. "Now don't you ever doubt me again, princess."
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cheapshrimpysheep · 21 days
Text
Yuu Needs a Hug 1
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SUMMARY: What their comforting hugs are like when you're feeling sad or under the weather? And how would they behave if you started crying in their arms?
CHARACTERS: Heartslabyul (Riddle, Ace; Deuce; Cater; Trey); Savanaclaw (Leona; Jack; Ruggie) & Octavinelle (Azul; Jade; Floyd)
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Comfort; Bullet Points; In a Relationship
WORD COUNT: An average of 280 words per character.
COMMENTS: When I feel a little sad and under the weather, I often imagine these things to help me fall asleep. I thought you might like them too. 😘
Yuu Needs a Hug 2 (Scarabia / Pomefiore / Ignihyde / Diasomnia)
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CONTEXT: They are already in a relationship with you.
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All of Riddle’s hugs happen in private, and comfort hugs are far from the exception.
If he is in his dorm uniform, a very characteristic hug from him is using the cape to cover you like a blanket and as a sign of protection. With his left arm around you.
His most common hugs are the ones where he hugs you with one arm while continuing his duties with the other, like homework, or some dorm-related paperwork. And with the hand that hugs you, absently caressing your back or head.
If you are really feeling very under the blue, he will occasionally kiss your forehead.
He's not the type to hug you tight. His arms will generally be very relaxed and loose around you, as if resting. For someone who is always so uptight and strict, that means a lot.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, then yes, all his attention goes to you immediately and his hug tightens. One arm around your waist and the other on your head, encouraging you to cry all you need on his shoulder.
He will be extremely understanding and act calmly as he knows, and shows you, that it is a normal thing and that he knows it will pass, that you will be fine because he will always be there for you. He himself knows from experience how crying can do a person good, and you were always there for him at those times.
And when you feel better, he will wipe your tears with his handkerchief (I'm sure he carries one somewhere in his clothes) and kiss your forehead with a sweet and reassuring smile.
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Ace will gladly give you all the hugs you want. But he will always tease you saying that he wants something in return for every hug. But if you're really sad, he'll say he was joking.
If you really want hugs to make you feel better you'll have to ask in private, because in public he only gives you those more relaxed and playful hugs.
He can give you hugs standing up, but the ones he likes most are the ones when you're both lying on the couch. He likes to have you on top of him with your head against his chest and both of his arms around you, or to lie on his side between you and the back of the couch with one hand supporting his head and the other arm on top of you.
His main strategy to make you feel better is to talk about things that distract you. Generally silly things to tease you or make you laugh.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he will panic a little and try to find out if it was something he said. After that, he will stop the jokes and hug you tighter and kiss your forehead.
He will be quieter than usual until your crying stops and only then will he return to his normal self.
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Deuce will be slightly awkward at first. This is most likely the first time someone has asked him for a hug as a form of comfort. And since he doesn't have much experience with hugs either, he's afraid of messing it up.
He will start by hugging you standing up. You will feel his arms feel more comfortable around you as you explain to him that there is no way he could do that wrong. There is no therapeutic technique, he just needs to act as he feels he should.
If you are on the couch you will be sitting side by side. Your head on his shoulder, one of his arms around you, and the other he always not knowing what to do with it.
It will take a long time for him to have confidence in his comforting hugs because he knows that he is not the type of person who knows how to comfort others, much less physically. But he will always try his best for you.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he will panic a little and, if he only had one arm around you, he'll quickly put the other one around you too. And he will hug you like you are in danger.
Maybe you will calm down by trying to calm him down and you'll both end up laughing about it.
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Cater is the #best hugger! And as he is a person who likes to show affection, it doesn't matter if you two are alone or in public, he will give you all the hugs you need regardless.
Get ready for him to talk in that cute little voice like someone talking to a child. Not that he sees you as one, but he likes to talk and act cute.
And that's why his comfort hugs are also very cute, like someone hugging a teddy bear. He also gives you lots of kisses on your forehead and cheeks while hugging you.
Although he speaks in a cute way, he doesn't do it in a way that seems like he's minimizing your feelings, but rather in a way that tries to show that everything will be okay, that whatever it is will pass.
He can do this whether the two of you are standing together or if you are sitting on a couch. But in this last option, he will be so close to you that the most comfortable way for you to sit together is with you on his lap.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he won't change the way he's acting, as if knowing he was doing everything right and you crying was a good sign and an important part of you feeling better in the end.
When your crying calms down or stops, he will smile at you, wipe the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs and say phrases like "Are you feeling better?" and "Everything will be okay."
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In the case of hugging you to make you feel better, Trey has no problem doing it in public if you need to. And he also reacts to your request as naturally as he would if you asked him to make you a sweet dessert.
You might even be surprised by how naturally he hugs you and the way he rubs his hands comfortingly on your back, if you didn't remember that he has younger siblings and probably has some experience comforting them.
He smiles and laughs softly the whole time, as if he finds your attitude cute.
He can do this standing up or, if you are sitting on a couch, sitting next to you. But only if you are alone will he let you sit on his lap.
The relaxed way he comforts you is almost parental, it must be that older brother side of him.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he may become a little more serious, but he will always act calmly and comes across as having everything under control. One of his hands will also come from your back to the back of your head.
Once your crying calms down or even stops, he will wipe your tears either with a handkerchief he has or with his own blazer or shirt. He will smile at you, showing that everything is fine and ask if you would like one of his sweets to make you feel better.
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Leona cares so much about being seen hugging you publicly that the botanical garden became your spot to take naps together as unbothered as a lion in the middle of savannah. He always wants you to be his pillow, whether it's your thighs or your chest. BUT showing genuine affection is only in private.
He had already noticed that you were sadder than usual, but you were the one who had to ask him for a hug, he was too proud to offer you one non-ironically.
He will open his arms and smile smugly, but he won't be the one to initiate the hug. If you want it, you have to take it.
But as soon as you do, he'll wrap you in a surprisingly affectionate hug. If you're lying down like when he takes a nap with you, his hands will encourage you to come closer and lay your head on his chest. You've just discovered the only way you can reverse your usual roles.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he will remain calm and surprise you again. He'll start giving you soft kisses on your face and forehead, the equivalent of when felines lick each other's ears as a show of affection.
His tranquility can be contagious, especially because the calm beat of his heart is a reassuring sound.
Only when he is sure that your crying has stopped and you are better will he speak again: *sigh* “You just give me work, herbivore. I just hope you at least thank me in some way.”
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Jack only hugs you in private! And if he ever does it in public, it's because he somehow forgot that you were in public and will quickly break the hug.
He is the complete opposite in private, after all he can be like a puppy: extremely affectionate if he feels comfortable with you. So it was always very common for you to cuddle on the couch.
His comforting hug ends up not being much different from usual, perhaps just less enthusiastic and more delicate. He likes having you in his arms, but he likes having his face close to yours more.
If you're sitting, he won't have any problem letting you sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. He won't take his arms from around you, nor stop kissing your forehead and cheeks softly and affectionately. All his attention is on you, and his main purpose at that moment is to dedicate himself to you.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he will hug you tighter and the small and calm kisses will turn into love attacks on your face. Do you know when service dogs jump at their owner when they are having a panic attack, for example? It's something like that he's doing, without fully realizing it. Ok, maybe just not as intensely as service dogs do, but with a lot of affection.
This gesture will most likely make you laugh and start telling him you're okay so he can calm down. Which will make you calm yourself down as a result.
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Ruggie doesn't really care if you're in public or not, he'll hug you regardless. And there's the bonus that when he hugs you in public, it's like marking territory and warning others.
He loves being cute and affectionate with you because he loves you being cute and affectionate with him back. He often does for you what he knows you would do for him. And a comforting hug is no different.
He will always tease with you a little at the beginning. "Aww, you want one of my special hugs? That’s so cute. But remember they are expensive, okay? You have to reward me later as a thanks.” He says this in a good mood that tries to put you at ease.
He will open his arms for you to hug him first and he will hold you in his embrace. He will be smiling playfully the whole time because he thinks it's funny how you can be so cute. And he will kiss your forehead with that same smile.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, his smile will fade. It was too serious for him to treat you with humor. He will tighten the hug and start saying sweet, soothing things in your ear like: "hey, don't worry. I'm sure everything will be fine."
When your crying calms down or even stops, he will smile at you again and say that it all made him hungry. What if you two went to eat something? Maybe, just maybe, he'll share some of his food with you if it's something you really like. But DO NOT get used to it!
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ONLY when you are alone, in the VIP Room, Azul likes it when you sit on his lap while he does the Mostro Lounge’s paperwork. It's a healthy balance between the stress of business and the pleasure of having you in his arms.
The only two exceptions to the rule that he doesn't like others seeing you two like this are Jade and Floyd. Why? Because he likes to brag to them about having you all to himself. ("By all means, cry about it.")
He will hug you like he always does when you two are in the VIP Room. One arm around your waist, surprisingly firm, and the other on the papers. His attention is divided between reading and signing the contracts and turning to give you sweet kisses on your face and/or, if you allow it, on your neck.
If he feels you hugging him in a more clingy way than usual, he will comment in a soft voice: “You know, if I could be in my merman form, I'd let my tentacles do the paperwork and give you all the attention of my arms. The inconvenience of having two legs. No offense of course.” If this can get even a little giggle out of you, he'll be very happy.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, his right hand will immediately let go of the pen and join his left in hugging you. He hugs you so tight it's like you're trapped in his loving embrace. He is worried about you, but he does everything he can to not not show himself too worried.
“Just never forget that if there is anything I can do, you can ask. Anything. I will solve any problem for you... just for you...”
When your crying calms down or even stops, he will wipe your tears with a handkerchief and give you a pack of tissues. And when you're better, he'll give you one of his most tender kisses on your cheek.
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Jade doesn't like to draw attention, he prefers to observe others than to be observed. That's why his hugs are private, especially those comfort ones that you are asking for.
“You know you can open up to me whenever you need to, but keep doing it only when we're alone, okay? You never know who might be watching you looking for a weakne- I mean, a sensitive moment to use against you, my love.”
He's not much of a hugger in general, so all of his hugs end up being special. And since you're alone, he has no problem having you sit on his lap if you want.
His arms and hands are premeditatedly affectionate and attentive to you, as if he knew exactly how you liked to be hugged at that specific moment and he fulfilled these requirements to the letter. If there's one thing he knows how to do in a frighteningly perfect way, it's how to study and please others. And you are his biggest study interest.
Whatever you wanted him to do, he will know and do it. The way you want him to hug you, whether you want kisses or not, and how you want them.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, you will feel him, in a way, disappointed. With you or with himself, you don't know. “What is the mater? Did I not predict your desires correctly? It seems like I still have a lot to learn about you. How exciting.” He will kiss your forehead and let you cry on his shoulder.
He'll probably compare your crying to Azul's, making fun of him in that passive-aggressive way he does, and end up making you laugh.
When your crying calms down or even stops, he'll help clean your face and suggest that you two go to the Mostro Lounge, where he can prepare your favorite dish to make you feel better if you want. For free? Hmm... he can think about it.
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Floyd can be VERY clingy. He loves to hug you, especially in public. Whether he’s in a good mood or not. Which means that, as he hugs you a lot, he also has many different types of hugs.
The vast majority of her hugs are to satisfy him, but they end up satisfying you too. Don't worry, he never squeezed you. He jokes that he will do it, but never actually does.
No matter what mood he's in, he never refuses to give you a comforting hug. For 3 main reasons: 1st  an Octavinelle student never refuses someone's request for help. 2nd He thinks you're so absolutely cute asking him for a hug! It even makes him smile if he's in a bad mood. And 3rd You always give him the hugs he needs, it's only fair (even in terms of a deal) that he does the same for you.
He'll hug you, but he'll do what he wants in the meantime. Playing with your hair, resting his head on yours, swinging his legs if you are sitting down. And if you are, he will make you sit on his lap, it’s easier and more comfortable to hug you like this. He will probably also say silly things to pass the time or try to make you laugh.
If you happen to be so depressed to the point of crying, he will immediately shut up and if he was swinging his legs he will immediately stop too. He will straighten up, even if your head is resting on his chest. “You'll wash my clothes if you get them dirty, right Koebi-chan~?” He says this while stroking your head.
Even though he likes to provoke others, he has a perfect sense of limits, he just tends to ignore them most of the time. But it's different with you and that situation too.
When your crying stops, he will make you look at him, as if to check that the crying has stopped. If he confirms it, he will smile at you: "Is it over yet? YAY~! Can we make something fun now?”
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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diorchids · 8 months
Text
morning sex with simon ‘ghost’ riley.
you and ghost fooled around all night, not having sex, but just touching everywhere. you’d fallen asleep with his body wrapped around you, loud snores in your ear.
the next morning, simon woke up to find you still asleep in his grasp. his cock, now fully hard again, throbbed against your ass through your clothes. he tried to ignore it, but found it impossible.
“morning,” your voice all raspy and low. his fingertips lightly dug into your hips.
simon looked down at you, his heart racing. "morning," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. he tried to move away from you, but his cock twitched again, betraying his arousal. he couldn't believe what was happening to him.
“need you bad, si.” your voice only giving him an even more erect cock. you’d almost broken your neck to look up at him, still facing away.
ghosts heart raced as he looked at your sleepy, sultry gaze. his cock twitched against your ass again, betraying his desire. he had never wanted anything more than to fuck you in the morning, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
that’s how you ended up getting stretched out perfectly by him.
“so fuckin’ tight, doll," he groaned, thrusting his hips forward. he couldn't believe how good it felt to be inside of you.
“go hard, s-si. be fuckin’ mean.” you cried out.
he couldn’t say no.
he thrust harder and faster, feeling you tighten around his cock. his hips moved in a steady rhythm as he lost himself in the sensations running through him. he reached down and began stimulating your clit, and you responded with a moan.
your legs trembled as you arched under him, giving him more room for his cock to explore.
simon smirked and leaned in closer, whispering against your ear. "you like being fucked this early, no?" he continued to thrust harder, his cock stretching you further.
you nodded carelessly, his words going in and coming right back out with the quickness.
he leaned over you, pinning you down with his weight as he pounded deep into your sweet cunt. he increased the speed and intensity, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. he slammed into you over and over, his cock twitching inside of you.
“f-fuck, si. feels so good, baby,”
“yeah?” he smirked and gripped a handful of your hair, pulling back. your eyes welled with tears as you cried out loudly. the room filled with mewls, cries and, moans.
“you like that, huh?" ghost moaned, leaning in to nip at your neck. he felt the head of his cock swelling deep inside you, and it sent shivers down his spine. “love it s’ much, si. put your babies in m-me..”
you cried loudly, gripping the messy and crinkled sheets to anchor yourself and stop your tears. “so big, b-baby, gimme your load.”
you tapered off about wanting his cum deep in your cunt, pushing yourself onto him, only being left with more pain. your legs trembled as you tried to tell him so thrust gentler.
he growled lowly, his hips slamming into yours in a rougher rhythm. "you wanted me to be mean," he panted, his free hand moving to grip your other cheek.
you were a mindless idiot now, unable to form a single coherent sentence. “c-cummin.”
“there we go, love. cum on my cock f’me.” simon encouraged, his voice rough with lust. as you neared your climax, he thrust deeper, hitting that spot inside you again and again, his own orgasm building rapidly.
he felt your tight muscles clenching around his cock as you climaxed, your juices fell onto the bed under you while simon bit his lip to stifle his whimpers. he loved seeing your arousal.
and with a final thrust, he let go, filling you up with his seed. he groaned loudly, his hips jerking roughly against your plump asscheeks.
you were a complete mess, eyes rolled back as drool spilled from your lips. you thrashed and shook under his large body.
“easy, love," simon panted, his grip on your hair and cheek loosening slightly. slowly, he pulled out of you, his cock still twitching as it slipped free.
maybe morning sex could fit into your schedule.
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