#get spotless skin

[vulcanette]

truly, Fred Durst. It’s just one of those days!

[naturalhomeremediesco]

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[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 6: Where…?

The first thing out of your mouth when you wake is a low, discontent groan as your hands fist the blankets around you. Your head and eyes throb. For a good several minutes, you remain completely still - no motivation to move from your semi-comfortable position. You really can’t drink like you used to, huh?

Eventually you work up the courage to crack your eyes open. At least the curtains are closed. The room takes a minute to focus, and the first thing you notice are the incorrectly colored sheets - lacking the usual floral print. You frown, grunting as you sit up. The second thing you notice is the t-shirt and sweatpants you’re currently wearing - not yours and easily a couple sizes too big. They have to belong to someone wide and tall to not be fitted on you. You don’t remember going home with anyone…

You take a moment to look around. It’s a decently sized room with minimal decor. A few art prints line the walls and the closet is in perfect order - separated by type and color. Though, most of it appears to be black. The bed is huge. Tall, too, you realize as you slowly slip your way out of it, nearly tripping on the long fabric of the sweatpants you’ve been dressed in. Glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the wall, you realize your makeup is gone and your hair is braided. There’s a dark wooden dresser and a matching desk with a laptop and sketchbook neatly placed on top. You wander over nosily, squinting down at the book. Oh shit! Oh shit, that’s Simon’s sketchbook. You’d recognize that collection of skull pattered stickers anywhere.

The sound of clinking pans and the scent of bacon slowly registers. Did… did you somehow end up going home with him? There’s no way, right? You remember asking him to dance, you remember him being surprisingly good and… and… that’s about it. On top of the dresser is your outfit from the night before, neatly folded with your bra tucked underneath. Your face heats and you cover your chest.

After a quick self inspection (and a nervous check for condoms in the trash) you decide you’re pretty sure you didn’t fuck anyone. Probably. Hopefully. What happens if you did? Would Simon tell John? Should you tell John? Will it make things awkward? Will he fire you? Oh, you really don’t want to lose this job. It’s the best you’ve ever had and you really, truly love all your boys so much. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes both to soothe the ache in them and to bite back tears.

You’ve always been such a stupid girl.

After giving yourself a few minutes to sit on the bed and properly freak out, flapping your hands in an attempt to get that nervous energy out of your system, you decide it’s time to face the music.

You slip your bralette back on before slowly cracking open the bedroom door. The short hall is mostly shadowed, lights off and the sun drifting in from what you assume is the living room. The door across from you is closed and to your left is a rather nice, spotless bathroom.

You peak your head out into the living room. It’s large and open, flowing into the kitchen as hardwood becomes tile and an island with stools between the two. Simon is the source of the clinking, apparently, moving around the stove like it’s second nature. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised he can cook - he’s a grown man - but there’s something about the way he arranges the plates, the from-scratch ingredients, that tells you he does actively enjoys it.

It’s cute.

Johnny and Kyle sit on a well loved couch just a few feet from you, both focused on some TV show you don’t recognize. A slow frown forms on your face, turning into shock as the door beside you opens. You nearly jump out of your skin as John appears beside you in a robe and plaid pajama pants.

A soft smile splits his face. “Mornin’, dove.”

“Och, she’s awake!” Johnny grins, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he turns to face you.

You blink dumbly, head pounding and gut churning as you step closer to stand beside the couch. Without thinking you blurt, “You all… live together?”

“Course.” Kyle pipes up, looking at you as well. As if you were supposed to have known that already.

You melt to the floor in a hungover heap. “Oh, thank god!”

Johnny laughs. “Why thank god?”

“I was so scared I did something stupid…” Your voice cracks as you press your cheek to the cool hardwood. You didn’t fuck anyone, you didn’t embarrass yourself, you were simply taken care of. The relief alone almost makes you want to cry. Though, that’s probably the hangover more than anything.

“Oh, love.” Kyle reaches down to soothe a hand over your hair. “We wouldn’t have done anything like that, yeah?”

You nod.

“Sorry it scared you.” John murmurs, crouching to set a mug of coffee on the floor beside your head. “We didn’t feel comfortable sendin’ y’home alone.”

You nod again, slowly pushing yourself up to grab the mug. The bitter taste of black coffee makes you cringe, but it wakes your system up and seems to push your hangover down to a tolerable level.

“I should go home…” You sigh, not moving a single muscle off the floor where you currently sit.

“Not before you eat somethin’.” Simon calls from the kitchen.

You take the opportunity to look around the living room. The sun has been mostly blocked out by barely cracked curtains. There’s a little bit of each of them in it - artwork scattered across the walls. A few photos - one of John and Simon that looks like the opening of the shop. The leather pride flag sticker stuck on what looks like a toolbox doesn’t escape your notice. Probably John’s. You’ve never seen another man with such well cared for boots and leather coats. Maybe that’s assumptive. There’s a game boy and a PS5 behind the 4K television. Your eyes follow the rather extensive sound system to a massive CD organizer. There’s a short hall on the opposite side of the apartment where you assume the other two rooms are. Everything is so… homey. Comfortable.

“Wait, who’s clothes are these?” You ask suddenly, staring down at the oversized t-shirt and tightly tied sweatpants that pool at your feet awkwardly.

“Mine.” Simon shrugs, setting a plate on the coffee table for you before handing two more off to Johnny and Kyle.

“Comfy.” You hum, eyes zeroing in on the large breakfast in front of you - plate piled high with bacon, sausage, and waffles.

“Ye can sit up here wit’ us.” Johnny pats the empty couch beside him.

You think for a moment before shaking your still aching head. “Don’t think I should stand up yet.”

The food is even better than it looks. For a Brit Simon actually knows how to handle his flavors.

You groan as a particular rough throb stabs at your temple. “I don’t remember drinking enough to be this hungover…”

“Johnny can be very convincing.” Simon rumbles, stabbing a piece of sausage.

“What do you remember?” Kyle leans forward a bit to reach for his coffee.

You shrug. “I remember dancing. That’s kind of where it stops.”

“At least you got to skip the part of the night where Johnny starts rantin’ about chemistry math.” Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Och! Ye love my chemistry talk! It’s the structure of the universe! It’s-“

“Yap yap yap.” Kyle opens and closes his hand in a mocking ‘blah blah blah’ motion.

Kyle helps Simon clean up. You try to insist to let you help as well, but they won’t hear of it. John offers to let you stay the day and sleep off your hangover but you shake your head, wanting nothing more than to take a burning hot shower in your own bathroom - as fun as hanging around with them all day sounds. So, you slip into Simon’s room to change back into your own clothes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kyle rest a hand on Simon’s lower back. A light touch, but solid. You don’t have the wherewithal to think about it.

You peel off Simon’s clothes and put yours back on with a wrinkled nose. There’s something so gross about it, not that you’re clean right now anyway. Thank god you had the foresight to not wear underwire. You order yourself a car on your mostly dead phone as you wander back out to the living room. Your skirt suddenly feels far too exposing for the daylight.

You chew your lip. “My driver’s five minutes out… so, I’ll see you guys Wednesday?”

“I’ll walk you down.” John grunts, pulling himself up out of the arm chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” You pause when he gives you that look you’ve come to recognize as ‘don’t argue, I’m doing it anyway.’

You give a round of goodbyes to the others who make no movement to get off the couch, fully sunken in. Johnny has sprawled over the L part of the couch with an arm over his eyes and a water bottle in hand.

“Thanks for letting me stay over. Sorry if I got too, uh, sloppy or whatever.” You murmur as the elevator makes for the lobby.

John chuckles. “No more than Johnny ever does. I’m glad you came. Lookin’ forward to the next one.”

You heart skips as you nod. “Me too.”

John leans forward just as your driver pulls up, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. Your back stiffens and your stomach flutters - face hot as he pulls away.

“See you at the shop.” He nods, sauntering back into the building like he didn’t just give you a heart attack.

Bonus:

“No, ye need an oil cleanser first.” Johnny slurs. “Tha’s how ye get the - hic - the makeup off.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t teach you everythin’ you know about skin care y’muppet.” Kyle snipes back as he digs through the drawers under the counter.

“Workin’ on yer John impersonation, I see.” Johnny snickers. Kyle bats at his arm.

You just giggle, seated on the toilet in Kyle and Johnny’s shared bathroom and swaying back and forth. Simon leans in the doorway, watching as the two drunkenly try to help you get your makeup off. All three of you bursting out into another fit of giggles when Kyle squeezes your round cheeks to make a fish face. It occurs to him that he’s never seen you bare faced. None of them have. Not that you come in everyday with a full beat but even so, there’s something intimate about it. To him, at least. Something about you perched in their apartment, in his clothes, having Johnny smudge moisturizer over your face while Kyle braids your hair to keep it from tangling overnight.

The three of you fit together so well…

John puts on a stupid action movie. Something to distract everyone as you wind down and sober up before bed. You snuggle up to Johnny, unsurprisingly, tucking yourself under his arm with your head on his chest. He’s practically Pavlov’d you into constantly touching each other. Just like he did with the rest of them. He jumps a bit when you press your socked feet to his thigh, humming comfortably. There’s a stupid grin plastered across your face.

“Alright, off to bed with you.” John chuckles as you snore comfortably on Johnny’s chest. The Scot is equally asleep, your chests rising and falling in an asynchronous rhythm. John loops his arms under your back and knees, just as strong as he’s always been, carefully cradling you against his chest as he takes you to Simon’s room.

Simon follows, glancing sideways at your clothes in his dresser. You groan as John lowers you but don’t wake up - well and truly passed out.

Simon pauses for a moment before following John out, staring down at you. He’s no better than the others, the alcohol numbing his inhibitions. So, he reaches down, and swipes a thumb over your slightly parted lips. Just as soft as he thought…

He settles into John’s bed, the frame creaking under their combined weight. Neither of them are particularly slight, after all.

“Glad y’danced tonight.” John mutters, reaching over to turn off his lamp.

Simon just grunts.

“She’s good for you.”

“She’s good for us.” He blurts, immediately wanting to shove the words back down his throat.

To his surprise, John just nods, turning to sling an arm over Simon’s waist. “She is.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for enjoying this series with me, it means a ton! I’m sorry I’m not very good at responding to replies/asks but I really do love and appreciate you all!

Hope you’re pumped for the next part bc I am

[forensicheart]

You’re Drunk

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando gets a call to pick up his not so sober girlfriend

A/N: Not particularly feelings this one but hope you guys enjoy!

Laughing to himself Lando sits on the couch scrolling through his Instagram stories coming across his girlfriends, where she looks to be having a great time with her friends. He replays the video that's been shared and smiles brightly at her drunken giggles as her and her friends stumble down the street. Lando can't help but go to rewatch the video for a third time but before he can an unknown number flashes on his screen. Confusion fills his mind as the phone rings but Lando decides to answer.

"Hello?"

"Lando, hey, it's Y/f/n" This made Lando more confused as he wasn't sure why one of his girlfriend's friends would be calling him. Until he heard your voice in the background. He could hear your small cries as you complained to your friends about being hungry but refused everything option of food they offered you.

"Need me to come get her?" Lando predicted.

"Pleaseeeee, we can't deal with her any longer. She just got us kicked out of the club" Y/f/n pleaded with your boyfriend causing Lando to let out a laugh being requesting your location and hanging up.

-

Pulling up outside the club you'd been kicked out of 30 minutes prior Lando swore you looked even more drunk then you had sounded on call 20 minutes ago. As soon as he stepped out the car you were running towards him with a speed he'd never seen from you. But unfortunately your legs couldn't keep up with your wanted speed and steps before you would reach Lando he watched you fall flat on your face. Holding in a laugh Lando quickly moved to your aid and looked at you with sympathy as you held onto him, tears welling in your wide eyes. Turning to look at your friends Lando simply nodded as a goodbye and they all seemed to let out a sigh of relief as they knew you were no longer their responsibility.

Now Lando had delt with you on a few occasions when you'd gotten a bit too drunk to have any independence but this time you seemed a bit more reliant than usual. After spending close to 10 minutes to even get you into the car and buckle your seatbelt without you unclipping it seconds later and laughing like it was the funniest joke ever, Lando was finally able to hop into the drivers side and begin the drive to your shared house.

The drive back started peacefully, no sound but the quiet hum of the radio as you had seemed to drifted into her own world staring out the window. Well that was until-

"Aeroplan!" You shouted giving Lando a scare causing him to almost slam on the breaks.

"What was that baby?" He asked softly glancing over to see both your hands planted on the glass as you started into the night sky with a child like wonder.

"There's an aeroplan" You spoke matter-of-factly even though as Lando looked into the sky through the car windows he saw nothing but stars littering the darkness.

"I don't see anything baby, maybe it was a star" Lando suggested cautiously but the suggestion still caused you to scoff loudly.

"You must be blind, because- maccas! I want maccas Landoooo" Your interest changed as you saw the golden 'm' in the distance.

-

You'd finally arrived home now after a detour to not only maccas but the supermarket as well to gather some baking ingredients as you were determined to make some cupcakes in your drunken state.

"Baby!" Lando panicked as he saw flour all over the floor. He'd left for one minute to use the bathroom, the kitchen far more spotless than it was now.

"Oopsie daisy" You giggled and when you spun to face Lando he couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. Your face coated in the white power, barely a spot of skin uncovered. Lando stepped towards you and took your face in his hands uncaring of the flour now coating his hands.

"Y/n, what have you done?" He asks rhetorically and receives a shrug in response from the girl in question but a sneaky grin never left her face.

"I want to sleep" You decided stepping back from Lando's touch and trying to make your way to the bedroom only to be stopped by Lando's hand grabbing yours.

"No, no, no. Not like that you aren't. You'll get flour all over the bed!" You groaned at Lando's words and wrapped your arms around his waist and nuzzling your face into his neck.

"I don't careee" Your words were both mumbled and slurred and Lando wrapped his arms around you humming.

"I know drunk Y/n doesn't mind but trust me I don't want to be dealing with her when she's sober and see's the mess from tonight's antics, ok baby?" You begrudgingly agreed seeming slightly more sober than you had previously.

"Good, come on let's go shower baby" Lando unwrapped you from the hug and led you to the bathroom by hand.

"Sexy time!"

Ok. Maybe you weren't that sober yet.

[meo-eiru]

If Silas got sunburned from being in the sunlight too much without protection, would he still breastfeed us with his breasts burned?

Yes he would👍

Well Silas can quickly heal himself with some blood but for the sake of this ask let’s say he didn’t. Maybe he wants to keep his blood for you and thinks it would be a waste to drink it himself.

It would hurt a lot I imagine, he has very soft and spotless skin. If he stays under the sun his face, shoulders and the top of his boobs would get red very fast. But pain can’t stop the sheer force of will, no matter how much it hurts Silas would breastfeed you anyway.

His breasts would be a lot warmer than usual, it’s like sucking on two warm pillows. Silas would let you squeeze them with your hands or even bite them with your teeth even if he’s wincing from pain the whole time. It’s alright, he’s okay. You’re more important than the pain he’s feeling. His body belongs to you and if you want to squeeze his warm and red tits like stress balls you can do it.

On the contrary I think he would quite like it if you licked over the burnt areas. Spit can usually help wounds get better and even if Silas doesn’t know that just having that liquid over the red areas makes him feel a bit more refreshed. He would constantly let out sighs of relief and pleasure as you lick over his boobs, his head slightly tilted backwards. His face was already red due to the sunburn but he’d get even more like a tomato with the added pleasure.

If you want him to actually heal himself with the blood you’d probably bite some blood out of him (from wherever you want to bit, Silas likes it when you bite him), collect the blood in your mouth and then make him drink it by kissing him. He would be a bit surprised at first and might try to say no because you deserve that blood not him!! But he also can’t resist you so it’d just turn into a small make out session filled with the taste and smell of his blood + aphrodisiac spit.

After that Silas would be extra clingy with you because awww you healed him🥺💕💕 He knew you loved him as well🥹❤️

[sweet-as-an-angel]

House Husband! Simon who…

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Sexual Punishment (Consensual), Degrading, Edging, Simon Exhibiting Some Himbo Tendencies, Objectification of a Military Man, Implied Pegging, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Lets you take the stresses of your day out on him, riding him with such fervour that he’s left digging his heels into the mattress of your shared bed, gritting his teeth and trying not to let the coil in his stomach snap before you’ve gotten yourself off.

Secretly loves being berated, being called your “Stupid boy, only good for cooking and cleaning. Such a good husband for me.”

Loves when you spoil him with the lavish gifts you can afford with your high-paying job. “A reward for keeping the house so tidy while I’m away.” You say as you take the cologne bottle in your hand and pull the waistband of his boxers with the other, slipping the bottle past before letting the band snap against his skin. You make sure to give his ass a good smack on your way past, too.

Another symbol of your ownership of him to complement the wedding band you’ve bound him with.

He’ll bend himself backwards to please you, learning to cook anything that takes your fancy, giving you massages when you need them, using his height and strength to clean the house thoroughly, pulling out all the furniture and making sure the place is spotless.

Though, he’d never admit that he sometimes leaves certain things — laundry, dishes, whatever — unfinished so you’ll punish him when you come home.

Loves when you edge him, using him for your own pleasure while preventing him from feeling the fullest extent of his. He lives for the tears in your eyes when you cum for the third time, rocking yourself on his thick cock as he holds you by the hips, desperately trying not to rut into you and give you another reason to stave off his orgasm.

When you think he’s earned it, you’ll make sure he really feels it. Squeezing around him with such ferocity that has him seeing stars when he finally does unravel, thick ropes of cum shooting into you as his back arches, his low, strangled moans filling your home. He’ll pant heavily, trying to gather his bearings as you detach from him, thin strings of cum trying desperately to keep the two of you connected.

He shudders at the tone in your voice when you throw a towel and a pair of pants at him, telling him to clean himself up and go and make dinner.

“I expect it done within the hour. I’m starving.”

Needless to say, he considers burning it a little to incur your wrath once more. But he knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that that parcel you ordered the other day did look rather long. Thin, too. Almost dick-shaped.

He’s taken a peek. He knows he shouldn’t have, but now he knows he mustn’t – under any circumstances – get on the wrong side of your strap-on. Especially one so girthy and long; big enough to even wind Simon if when you slammed into him with it.

But that’s a punishment for another day.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[babygorewhore]

Good girl

Older!Rafe Cameron x perv!virgin fem reader! W.C 1.6k

Rafe Cameron, who you work for as a housekeeper, thinks you’re such a good girl but you have a filthy little habit that he’s about to discover. Dividers by @strangergraphics

Warnings! Masturbation! Perv! Reader and rafe! Older!Rafe! Daddy kink! Praise! Degrading! Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected sex! Female is just for aesthetic!

You didn’t mean for it to happen. Honestly you really didn’t. You worked part time as a housekeeper at Rafe Cameron’s house and he provided you almost free range in his home. Leaving you in his shower right now, after you swam in his pool, your bikini hanging up as your naked body was pampered by the water. You lean your head back, eyeing Rafe’s body wash and you bite your lip nervously. It would be so…naughty. But he wouldn’t know. No one else would know. You reach forward and hold the bottle in your hands.

Lathering the soap onto a washcloth and you bring it to your nose. God, it smelled just like him. Your pussy pulsed as you thought about him in here and how good it would feel to be bent over while he railed you. Your other hand slowly traced over your body, squeezing your tits and you moaned.

You circled your clit finally, eyes fluttering shut as you gave yourself decent pressure to tease yourself. You whimpered as you inserted two fingers in, curling them in as you continued smelling his body wash, his hands are so much bigger.

Everything about him was larger. Your skin warmed as you thought about how good he would sound while his cock pumped in and out of you, filling you with cum while you gripped the wall.

“Fuck,” You managed before your climax hit you and you bit your lip harder, tasting a little blood as your cum leaked over your fingers.

After cleaning yourself up, you get dressed and scurry back downstairs. Rafe would be back soon to take you home and you’d have to pretend to be normal. It wasn’t the first time you’d touched yourself to something of his. You’d snuck into his room, humped his pillow, fingered yourself while wearing his rings before you got them cleaned. You’d never been with anyone all the way. Shitty oral and half assed fingering but that’s it. You’d never been with a real man like him.

You slid into his passenger seat. He gripped the wheel, his muscular forearm flexed underneath his button down shirt. “Was the pool okay?” His raspy voice sent chills across your body and you nodded.

“Mmm, it was perfect. Just what i needed on a-oh no. I forgot my swimsuit!” You facepalm and he chuckles.

“That’s okay, doll. Don’t worry. I’ll give it to you all nice and clean.” He reaches over and gently squeezes your knee.

The radio plays quiet music as he drives you home and your pulse quickens. You wanted him so badly you’d even dreamed about it but you didn’t have the guts to invite him in.

“You don’t have to Mr Cameron. I can just,”

“I insist. I’ll wash it and it’ll be all ready when you come back. You’re a blessing, Angel. House has never been more spotless.” He gives you a smile and you blush.

“Oh, it’s no issue, sir. I’m happy to do it!”

“You’re such a sweet girl, you know that? Such a good girl.” Before you had the chance to faint at his praise, you open your car door and quickly slip out. Clenching your thighs together.

“Thank you for the ride. Mr Cameron!” You give him a wave before turning on your heel and running inside. Your pussy throbbed as you barely made it inside your bedroom, shutting your door before your roommate could ask questions.

Your back hit your soft sheets with your knees spread, your fingers circling your clit eagerly and your hole leaking with precum as you whined and whimpered. “Fuck-sir!” You breathed as you imagined Rafe with you right now. His lips replacing your hand.

Your climax hit you and you spread your thighs apart further. As you shuddered and shook, you brought your fingers to your lips. Tasting yourself. You wished he would taste it. Because it was all because of him.

“You sure you don’t want me to tidy up a little? I know I’m not really dressed for it,” You begin but Rafe shakes his head as he ushers you inside his home.

“No. You’re off the clock today. Can I get you anything to drink? I know I’m not as good of a bartender as you are.” He gives you a wink and you giggle. That was your other part time job.

You wore a skirt that hung above your knees, black tank top with a decent push up bra. Was it completely necessary to show off your tits to pick up a swimsuit? No. But it was worth the chance.

“I’d love a glass of lemonade.” You ask and he nods.

“I laid out your bikini in my room. Go ahead and get it. I’ll bring you the drink,” Rafe smiles and you tilt your head slightly.

In his room? You nod anyway and walk up the stairs. You move inside his bedroom, a place you were familiar with and you saw your black bikini laid out on his cover. Your eyes narrow slightly when you see a slight stain in the crotch.

You hear footsteps behind you and you turn to see Rafe holding a glass. He sets it down and leans against the wall, his fit body lean and powerful. “Something wrong, Doll?”

“No! Nothings wrong! Thank you for washing it! I’m sorry i forgot again. I’m so dumb.” You laugh nervously and he gives you a little smirk.

“Yeah? I’m sure it was hard to remember after touching yourself while smelling my body wash in the shower.”

You gasp and take a step back with wide eyes. Rafes smirk widens into a smile. “I mean baby girl i knew you were a little dirty slut but finger fucking yourself while wearing my rings? In my shirt? Humping my pillow? It got me so hard while I watched you in my office. Stroked my cock to the point it was fuckin numb.”

You wanted the earth to swallow you as you realized your stupidity. He had cameras. Of course he did. “Mr. Cameron-“

“I think we’re past that, sweetheart. You don’t need to talk to me like that. Daddy or sir will work just fine baby girl.” He approaches you steadily and you swallow.

“You’re not…mad?”

“Mad? Princess, someone being obsessed with me is so fucking sexy. Just as much as i am with you. Sneaking in a pair of panties in my pocket when I’ve taken you home drove me crazy. Wrapping them around my dick and then licking them clean.” You inhale sharply as he nudges you on the bed with his knee.

“You’re such a good girl. Being so dirty. Virgin huh? Getting off at just the thought of my face in your pussy?” Your skin heats as he leans down, snapping the elastic of your waistband.

“I just…wanted to be near you that’s all.” You offer weakly and he pushes you fully on the bed on your back.

“Now I’m gonna lick up all your mess in that cunt. I think you owe me one considering you’re a little perv.” Rafe peels off your skirt and panties, the sticky middle glistening as he groans at the sight.

“Jesus princess. This wet just from me calling the shots? Looks like you’ve needed a real man this whole time. Someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing.” Rafe buries his face inbetween your thighs, lapping at your clit like a starved man and you moan loudly. Your fingers tangle in his hair.

“daddy-oh god-“ You whine as he focuses on your entrance, tongue licking up all the arousal just for him.

“Fuck, you taste so good, princess. Sweeter than that pretty little face of yours.” Rafe praises against your cunt and grinds on the bed. “About to bust in my god damn pants just from licking up this pussy.”

You’re seconds away from orgasm when he pulls back and climbs over you. He crushes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, you taste yourself on his tongue while he hastily tugs off his pants. His dick throbbing inside his boxers.

“You gonna be a good girl and take all of it for me? You gonna let me fuck that greedy cunt?” He questions and you whimper, your fingers digging into his back as he shoves his cock into you. Thrusting hard and you cry out. Burying your face into his shoulder.

“Oh shit, princess you’re so fuckin tight. Perfect pussy. Clenching me so hard you want me to stay in here forever. Can’t believe no one’s ever fucked you before,” he grunts and plunges his hips deeper.

“Daddy-keep going-I’m gonna cum!” You squeak as your pussy squelches.

“Cum for me, princess. Let me have it. Cream on my dick and then you’re gonna fuckin bounce on it.” His dirty words immediately make you spill all over his cock and you let out a whine before he flips over, manhandling you to straddle his lap.

“Ride my dick like a good little slut. Wanna see your eyes roll back when i breed your pretty pussy.” Rafe leans down and takes your hardened nipple in his mouth. Sucking slowly and you moan loudly, your ass bouncing as you ride him.

“Daddy, you feel so good. Want you to fill me with your cum. I’ve needed it so bad. Touching myself wasn’t enough.” You pant and Rafe pulls off your tit.

“Such a good whore for me, princess. Such a dirty little slut for a girl who’s never fucked. I’m the only man who gets this perfect cunt.”

You feel ropes of cum coat your insides as he presses his hand against your stomach, feeling it as you cum a second time and it becomes wetter.

“Oh god, daddy!” You manage and he huffs, helping you grind down with his hands on your ass.

“Taking me so fuckin good. My pretty girl huh? Giving me all that cum. Hands and knees. I’m gonna eat it out of you.”

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @redhead1180 @drudyslut @sturnioloshacker @rafescurtainbangz @rafeinterlude @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @emsgoodthinkin

[running-with-kn1ves]

Desperation

A/N: I wrote something very similar to this with the Belsire previously but I couldn't help myself 🙏

Belsire: male equivalent to the Beldam (Coraline)

CW: kidnapping, manipulation, sewing needles

A beautiful lullaby hummed against your ear, fog-like breath both chilly and thick caressed against its shell.

You never imagined that he could sew; sure, he was keen to cook you extravagant dinners, you never saw him clean despite the crooked house always spotless, and the clothes that were put in your drawers were consistently washed-- but such delicate needlework? You didn't think the creature had it in him. His fingers seemed made for it though, long and spindly and black at the tips, they held the needle at a fine point, without having to lick the end of the thread before putting it through the eye.

"Stab the needle through the eye....wrap two knots around the tongue, and pull it out the mouth."

His low, rasped voice was unlike anything you've heard from the men in the "real" world. Its croaky demure made sound as if his vocal chords were on the brink of snapping. It was very few and far between that his voice resounded throughout the house in a thunder-like boom.

Tonight, was not one of those nights. Not unless you made an effort to wrangle out of between his stick-like forearms in the wooden chair and began yelling ungrateful spiels whilst staying in HIS house. He said it was yours-- your "other home," but since the gateway tunnel back to your original 1-bedroom apartment became nothing but sturdy drywall with a key hole, its been his. It was always his, you were just too blind to see past the beautiful illusions built for you.

"Just like that... mending is simple work."

You feel his left hand, the one once holding your torn cardigan steady, reach up to lay a cold finger beneath your chin. It rubs back and forth, relishing in the warmth of your throat, the soft flesh between your jaw and jugular.

The Belsire seemed to enjoy running his smooth, icy digits along your naked skin, brushing from side to side, up and down to dip against your collar bone. He relished your warm-bloodedness from how often he took advantage of it. It was a wild contrast to his ever-frozen, rigid body draped in fine blacks and bruised shadows.

"C-can you show me again?" You plead, hoping the end of this activity wouldn't be the finale before your demise. Each time you have one of these "bonding" sessions the Belsire encourages you to entertain him with, you anticipate it being your last.

Each day you wait and wait... wondering if he's hungry again, if it'll hurt, if you'll make one more frustrated comment away that'll make him snap and pick your bones clean.

"Again..?" He tapped thrice on your neck, a twitching habit that sent cold shocks through you. "Why don't you try it yourself this time, dear?"

The sweet, affectionate name oozing from his lips was unnatural-- and yet, perfectly normal for the creature of love seduction. How many had fallen for that same adoring title, only to find themselves now locked in his stomach?

You couldn't tell anymore what was genuine adoration, or a disturbing method at getting you to put your guard down. When he was angry with you, for hiding or attempting another escapade to get back home,  'dear' transformed to spits of "insolent one" and "maddening human", at the very least. On his worst days you were a bewitching, dimwitted little creature too stupid to be let free- better off in his hands if not crunched between his teeth.

"I'm not too sure, I might..accidentally stab myself with the needle, you know?"

You shrug in feigned helplessness, hoping your lack of enthusiasm wouldn't tick him closer to the dark side.

"If you do, then I'll lick your wound and we can start again. Give it a try, won't you? I've seen your work on my coats," he mumbles lowly at the rest of his comments, "and that damned quilt you seem keen to keep."

He muses at the mention of your skilled handiwork you sneak to do when he's gone away at "none of your concern" events. However he knew of your activities in this prison cell while he was out didn't surprise you; the house had eyes, in places you'd rather not think of.

You took the needle from within his delicate grasp, mahogany red thread swinging loose and ready to be tightly wound in your wine colored cardigan.

You copy the movements he had done a million times, though you really weren't watching when he had. It was hard to concentrate with your body shivering, waiting for a sharp dagger or set of teeth to find it's way buried in your back.

The Belsire seems to ease up as you begin to complete the torn cardigan hole, placing two abnormally long hands upon the sides of your shoulders.

"Don't move," he grumbles, almost annoyed at the idea. "Smooth and quite warm... I never understood the pleasure of keeping food around longer than it's due date. But you, little button... why, you're almost opening a soft spot inside of me.."

You didn't like the sound of that. A soft spot within him would certainly be something he sought to squash.

"Are you sure you want a soft spot? I'm not even sure where that would be."

You almost laugh at your own joke, imagining his crisp limbs deflated. If you were making a soft spot, you best keep at making it grow.

"It seems you force it in me, whether I like it or not. I enjoy having you to myself, to come home to... even if the idea that you're taking part of me, is... infuriating."

The Belsire leans deeper into you, pressing the inside of his thighs against yours, craning his neck downward.

"The unfortunate part is, I think I may fall apart if you disappear."

You see the looks he gives from the corner of your eye; dark, empty buttons staring into you, awaiting your reaction. Was this another attempt to swoon you?

"Then I guess that means you can't eat me."

You sigh, hoping he'd agree. And oddly enough, he cracks a grin.

"I guess not. Though, don't hold your breath. I can't make any promises as to what my temper will lead to." The bridge of his nose is uncharacteristically pressed against your cheek, black dots boring holes into you. "On the topic, I'd be less inclined to eat you if you accepted my present..."

You round off the last bit of stitching, only to see an all too familiar velvet box on your left. It was open, music box playing a soft melody as a range of colors and sizes in buttons were available to view.

"I... I still can't, give you an answer." You go back to tying an end to the thread, praying for the Belsire's eerily calm mood to stay uninterrupted.

He goes quiet, habitually running a thumb down the shell of your ear. The chill was almost welcoming, soft flesh touching your heated one. It felt... genuine, a form of physical affection that was done for his pleasure more than your own. It would be comforting, if you weren't waiting for him to explode.

"I expected as much," he calmly huffs, shutting the box with a single finger. Its harsh snap made you drop the thread. "But you can't expect me to wait forever; you aren't going home. You will remain here, either as my slave, or my spouse. The difference is whether I have to force these buttons on you, or you take them willingly."

"I.. I just need a little more time. I haven't-- I'm not-- done adjusting. I'm not used to this world, like you."

You've given up pleading; for all you knew, there was no way back home that either of you could conjure. This was your fate.

Like a doll he dressed and cleaned and made a perfect dollhouse for, you were to sit here and provide him the comfort he could not create on his own. Like a god, creating his creatures of free will, he relished in the uniqueness you offered without him having to fabricate it first, the obedience you gave from fear in your own desire rather than a direct command.

A long silence left the air hanging stagnant, your patchwork sitting in front of you, finished and yet not quite the same as it once was. Why couldn't you go to the store and buy a new one, spend frivolous money and speak to the miserable cashier that reminded you humanity was still alive?

"...Fine. But not much longer, my sweet button...this-- mortal flesh still tying you to your world, has kept me at a distance I do not wish to stand at." A soft kiss, from creased, inexperienced lips touched the top of your cheekbone. "I want you for myself... I don't like not getting the things I want. And, I want you far more desperately than I imagined."

His voice was stoic, gentle and logical despite the romantic lines that were fed to you. Spindly fingers pulled back pieces of your hair, caressing the skin on your face with soft strokes. Like a human would do to an animal, running his knuckles against your cheek and his fingertips along your jaw.

Just a simple touch and turn of your chin was all it took to make you look at him.

"Don't make me wait. I will have you, and I want it to be because you will it. Please, don't make me do what neither of us want."

His tongue was warmer than his touch, somehow. Maybe it led to his even warmer heart, but you doubted it. Even with the way both his large, balmy palms were gripping beside your ears, pulling your face to touch his in a dance of lips and stolen breath, you wondered if this was just another web of lies spun to create your damnation.

But the desperation in how he swallowed you whole, pulling your hands away from the touchy needlework he was once keen on making you finish-- there was something human about it all, something touchy and irritable and obsessive. If he wanted you desperately then, you could only imagine how horribly ridden he was now, feeling your warmth as he made you colder with his hands and wrists, him never changing.

You peeked an eye open, wondering if those buttons stayed all-seeing, all watching, even when you kissed.

[secretsofnaturalrecipes]

Japanese Secret to Whitening Skin & Get Rid of Pigments - How to Get Fair, Glowing, & Spotless Skin

[niya-writesshit]

cowboy!artdonaldson x fem!reader

based on this request :

Anonymous asked:

art donaldson cowboy au where he works as a ranch hand for your dad.... and then he fucks u in ur daddy's grand farm mansion when he isn't home. hello im hard! ~ 🌸

TW: use of y/n (1), smut MDNI - oral (f receiving), swearing, not proofread

word count: 2264 (THIS IS SO LONG WHAT THE FUCK)

¡! ❞ a/n: uh im bricked anon! also basically dodge mason and panic reference! and this is kinda shit im sowwy. REPOST BC LAST TIME IT FLOPPED AND IDK WHY.

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there was something about your pretty little accent that got art's damn mind spinning. clear, sort of clipped and lilting, the typa accent one could only get from living in the big old city of new york. you were his boss's daughter, which made it all the more sinful when he imagined that accent in... other (less proper) situations he shouldn't've been. unlike the other ranch-hands, he kept a polite distance. he didn't leer or ogle at you as you walked by — his momma taught him better than that — but he sure as hell wanted to as you bent down to pick up something from the front seat of your convertible. tiny little white skirt rising higher and higher and higher and higher and art was hooked. oh how he would love to ruin you, daddy's dear little girl visiting carp for the summer. oh how he would love to grab you by those meaty thighs, defile you 'till you were crying his name. oh how he would love.

he trudges through the mud up to the ranch house, all done for the day and ready to wash up in the worker's quarters in the back. his legs feel like lead after hours of wrangling the cattle and fixing fences in the blistering sun. the thin flannel he wore today clung to his skin, soaked through with sweat. before he even gets to look in mirror, he knows his face is all ruddy-like and burnt, even though his hat supposed to be protecting the damn sunburn that made his cheeks string.

he splashed cold water on his face. he grabbed an old rag to wipe his face, just about ready to head to the showers, when he heard it—that damn voice, right behind him.

he turned, and there you were. standing in the doorway, looking a little out of place in your crisp, white summer dress. your eyes scanned the tiny room like you weren’t sure if you should be there or not, and art figured you probably didn’t have much reason to be back here.

you gave a sheepish smile. "hi… i, uh, think i got a little lost. do you know where the main house is?"

he’d dreamed 'bout this moment before, though maybe not quite like this. you, standing there all pretty, looking gorgeous in your spotless attire, while he was still dripping in sweat and grime. the polite distance he’d vowed to keep suddenly felt a lot tougher to maintain now that you were looking at him, lips slightly parted as you waited for an answer.

he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to focus on your face. "main house is back that way," he drawled, pointing out the direction you missed. his voice came out rougher than he meant it to. "reckon you took a wrong turn."

you smiled wider, stepping a bit closer. damn near makes him swallow his own tongue. "thanks," you reply, your tone light, conversational. "still trying to figure out my way around."

art nodded, eyes flicking up to meet yours, though his heart was beating faster than it should’ve been. he shifted on his feet, gaze shifting from your eyes down to your lips down to your chest down to your thighs down to — back to your eyes.

"i can walk you back if you want," he offered, tipping his hat back slightly, trying to stay cool about it, but hell, you already had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even know it.

you gave him a slow nod, tongue flitting out to lick at your lips. "i'd appreciate that, thank you."

as the two of you made your way back to the main house, art tried his best not to tip over sideways at the sheer thought of you being this close to him. he feels like a pathetic little dog, all worked up over you just walking in line with him, brushing your arm against his every once in awhile. he's so focused on keeping his cheeks from flushing that he doesn't hear you the first time.

"hello?"

art blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. "huh? oh, sorry, darlin' —didn’t catch that."

you tilted your head slightly, a playful smile on your lips as you repeated your question. "what's your name? i'm y/n."

"art," he cursed himself for his curt response, but you didn't seem to notice, bright smile still holding as you nodded.

"nice to meet you, art." your gaze held his with a sort of lingering intensity that unfortunately made art's pants tighten even further than before. "so, what do else do you do here in carp when you're not showing lost city people around?"

art shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. "dunno. i work, i guess."

you roll your eyes slightly and nudge at him with your elbow. "okay. what about for fun?"

art shifted awkwardly, feeling your elbow nudge him gently, sending a spark down his spine. he cleared his throat, "fun?" he repeated, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "ain’t much time for that out here, if I’m bein’ honest. mostly work, and maybe a beer with the boys now and then."

you let out a soft laugh, the sound teasing him in all the right ways. "that’s all? no girls? no beautiful maiden waiting around for you to finish all this hard work?"

art swallowed hard. he glanced down at his boots for a second, trying to collect himself, then back at you. "no, ma’am. no one special like that," he muttered. "guess I ain’t much for courtin’ these days."

your lips curved into a lazy smirk. "hmm. that’s a shame. a guy like you? figured the girls would be lined up." your eyes glint with a darkness that art knew all too well. it was the same hungry look he felt in his own gaze, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded with desire.

art rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to flush under the heat of your stare. he bit at the inside of his cheek, his self-restraint fraying as he fought the urge to just jump at you right then and there.

as you neared the main house, art's mind shifted to your father. the last thing he wanted was for the boss to catch wind of any unprofessional behavior. with a deep breath, art managed a strained smile, trying to redirect the rising heat in his chest. "well, here we are. better get you inside before your dad starts wonderin' where you’ve been."

you glanced at him with a smirk, seemingly unfazed as you adjusted your skirt. "funny thing, art," you said, your voice low and sultry, "i think daddy's still out of town. he won't be back 'till tomorrow." you took a step closer, hands reaching out to dust off art's collar.

he swallows hard at the feeling of your finger brushing against his neck. "we got the place to ourselves then, huh?" art drawls, voice rough and husky with barely contained desire.

"looks like it." your arms wrapped around his neck, finger curling around a stray blond locked as you watched art's face contort. deciding, deciding, decided. his hands found your hips, and with a light tap to your thigh, you jumped into his arms, kissing him hard.

your lips were warm and soft, and they parted slightly as art slipped his tongue inside, his one hand scrabbling for the front door handle. it clicked open and he stumbled inside, heading straight for the living room. your fingertips brush softly against his back as he sits down on a couch, letting you straddle him at the hips. he's still sweaty, but you seem to like it, burrowing your head in his neck as he nips at yours, breathing in the sharp, musky smell of him.

the both of you pant heavily as you scrambled to take of his shirt, and then him your dress. art presses slobbery kisses down your chest and torso, salivating at the sight of your little blue panties, pressed down against his crotched. little sighs and moans left your lips as he trailed his fingers along with his mouth, to the very top of your underwear, kissing along the seam. before you can object, he's shifted you over and laid down. "hop on, darlin'," he mumbles, referring to his mouth as you pull off your panties with a crooked finger. hesitantly, you crawl up his chest. apparently not quick enough for art, he hooks an arm around your waist and places you on his face himself, moaning at the pure scent of you.

he starts by kissing the inside of your right thigh, then suckling the inside of your left. he revels in your scent for a few more seconds before burying his face inside you, lapping you up with long, thick licks against your folds. you squeal when you first feel his (clearly) expert tongue against you, flexing and swirling as he find your sweet spots immediately. it hasn't even been 5 seconds when he stops with a pop! - peeking out from under your thighs with a wild expression on his face. his hat is tipped over under him, the rim sticking out from behind his unruly blond locks. "you're hoverin'. " he was right, you were, too scared to put your full weight on this poor man you had met not half an hour ago. "sit on my face, baby, please," he practically whimpers.

and how could you say no? eyes wide, face slick with your juices, looking so goddamn angelic — you couldn't. and even though you were scared to crush him, craving the feeling of his tongue inside you again, you sit — nice and proper this time.

he starts up again with a kind of feverish intensity you could only expect from a starved man. you moan and whimper on his face, scratching against his scalp as you looked for something to grip onto. art groans in pleasure against your folds when you tug at his hair, his grip that of iron as he holds you down by the hips hard enough to bruise. his other hand is groping at your tits, pinching and swirling at the nipples as he watches you shake on his tongue.

his own dick is being completely ignored, even though it's brick-hard and leaking enough pre-cum you can see it through his pants. the only pleasure he needs is your sweet little whines and needy moans as he laps up your juices like your pussy is the holy grail. before you even know it, he's driven you through orgasm after orgasm, happily sucking away at your cunt as you squirm and scream on top of him. "ohmygod, art. oh my fucking god!" your yells are loud enough that your little boyfriends from new york could probably hear you.

and after he's been there for so long your head's rolling, and your clit is swollen and overstimulated, he's finally done, pulling back to rest his face on your thighs. his cheeks leave your own slick against your legs, nose shiny at the tip but with a big old stupid grin on his face. you're panting, pussy throbbing and puffy as you rake your fingers though his hair, looking down at him with your mouth agape. "holy shit, art."

his grin grows even wider as he watches you, fingers rubbing lazy circles on your hips as you struggle to compose yourself. "am i good?" he asks, already certain of the answer, but eager to boost his ego even more.

you nod, eyes dazed and glossy as you ran your hands over his cheeks. "so good, art. holy fucking hell." you could already hear him boasting to all the other ranch hands in his stupidly attractive little southern accent — i made that city girl cum 5 times on my tongue!

he nods slowly in response, pretty eyes looking up at you all proud. "that's what i like to hear, darlin'."

the next thing he heard made his heart sink all the way from where it was, up in the clouds all dazed, to his stomach. the front door click open, and the booming voice of your father, "baby, i'm home!"

you'd heard it before him, and you jumped off of his chest and pulled your dress back on before poor art even had time to register what was happening. you sat straight up next to him, looking perfect — albeit a little red, as your terrifyingly massive father stomped into the room. his expression changed from exhaustion to pure anger as he took in art, sprawled half-way up on the couch, shirt off and hair a mess. "what the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared from across the room.

"get out of my damn house!" your father bellowed. art scrambled off of the couch, grabbing his hat from under his head. clumsy and hurried as he fumbled with his shirt. you were too stunned to move, thighs still throbbing, as he sprinted out of the back door before your father could make it to him. the barrel of a man slammed the door behind him, making you wince.

as art scurried down the backyard and past the worker's quarters, shirt still off and hat placed haphazardly on his head, the first thoughts in his head was — 'i am so fucking sacked.'the next ones placed a lazy smile on his face. 'goddamn, that was worth it.'

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¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

¡! ❞ a/n: i believe this is the longest thing i've written on this blog everyone applaud!

[beamingwomenclub]

How can you use these ingredients to make your skin shiny while you sleep? Let’s look at some ideas.

While you sleep, your body increases blood flow to the skin, resulting in a healthy glow when you awaken. If you don’t get enough sleep, your skin may appear dull, lifeless, or stony. Read more

[fantasyyluvr]

Hey there👋👋 could you please do whatever love language of the bamboos are ??

LOVE LANGUAGE OF THE BATBOYS

A/N: terribly sorry I let this request collect dust. My interest in comics fell as life got hectic and whatever the hell. I won't go all Wattpad author on you.

Dick Grayson’s love language is words of affirmation. At the peak of his characterization, he is a man ravenous for praise and attention. A moment of peace, of relief, of sweetness.

Stunted, yet too grown for his own good—simultaneously. He will seek attention, showering you with gifts and compliments in hopes that you reciprocate. Holidays would read like a HallMark movie that would move suburban mothers to tears.

Dick is also the man to send romantic quotes stolen from Pinterest, and the occasional confusing poem of his own hand. His nerves would grind as he read the ‘’seen’’ stamp beneath his text, worried out of his mind that it didn't properly convey his emotions, his love.

“What, no reply yet? If you're that moved, you could always come kiss me.” He'd send the message, playing it off as a joke. But his stomach groaned with the familiar ache, that cold and empty feeling of uncertainty.

What if she doesn't like it? Will she still like me? Would I seem lame if I double texted? Am I bugging her?

The flames of self doubt would spread and eat at his mind until his phone pinged with a,” it's beautiful, babe. A hard read, but the intention was there.” And a flirtatious emoji paired with it.

Thus, the flames of doubt were stomped out, like they never existed. They liked the poem, and he would spend hours rereading it. Marveling and gushing because you liked it. Something he made.

Jason Todd's love language is acts of service. It's a loyalty thing for him.

Gift sharing could be manipulation; soft words could be lies, and he's too self-loathing to believe them anyway. Red Hood swallows his spare time, and his desire for touch swung on a pendulum—one side thirsting for it, the other side uncomfortable.

The thought of returning home to a nice and warm meal would make him melt into a puddle. Or finding his hero suit washed, and his gear cleaned and stored away.

It reignites a flame in his cold eyes, the domesticity calling forth an unclassified emotion that sent goosebumps blazing over his skin like wildfire, calling his arm hairs to attention.

Jason would return the favor. You would awake to find breakfast made, the aroma of bacon and eggs thick in the air, the sweetness of syrup carrying around the house. Scalding tea trickling into a pot, milk and sugar already on the table. Plates washed and set.

Jason would also do laundry and iron clothes. He gets those random bursts of energy (or adrenaline) and cleans the entire house spotless.

Baths would be drawn for you, and if he's feeling lavish, he'll add roses to the bubbles. The finest soaps would lather your skin, scented with the the best smelling perfumes—business was good, and it was a present. His calloused fingers would be overjoyed to massage your scalp (he hoped you'd do his next).

Tim Drake’s love language is quality time. Also, I would like to preface this section by admitting I haven't read much of Tim.

He would help you study. Textbooks adorning the wooden table after hours of quizzing. Coffee steaming in a mug, pens and highlighters scratching at paper. Kisses shared with each right answer.

He'd tease,” Oh, that was a hard one. A trick question.” A smirk, sweet as frosting would tug on his lips, then a warm kiss would swallow yours.” If I were as filthy minded as Jason, maybe I'd crack a joke.”

Tim’s gaze would find you, in the middle of whatever—washing dishes, doing laundry, exercising. They'd burst with amorous passion, like exploding stars, shimmering and twinkling in his irises.

When the sun kisses Gotham goodnight, and the moon assumes it duty, he'd find himself wishing he could be beside you. Not Batman, not Dick, certainly not Damian. That's not proof that he hates his colleagues or that his work is last on the list of priorities. It's just. . . you're higher.

“Hey, love,” he'd speak into the phone, after the voicemail prompted him.” I know you're likely sleep tonight. But I wanted to at least call and tell you to sleep safe and warm. And to save space for me.” A chuckle would roll of his tongue, the wailing of police sirens in the background.

Damian Wayne's love language is also quality time.

Time is precious to him. His mother’s presence was unreliable. He, his father, his siblings tango with dead every silvery night. Each misfortune in his family reminded him of that.

Robin is not what Dick thinks. It's not just bursting into hideouts and knocking the crap out of villains. The peril is real, as well as the potential for failure—and failure in their line of work means death.

Oracle was paralyzed in a second, one wrong move and her nerves were shot. Jason’s life was quite literally put on a clock, killed by time itself. When Damian was an assassin, it merely took seconds to end a life, one of emotion and desires and opinions—gone at the stroke of a blade.

Time matters.

Damian would try to spend all of it with you, doing anything. Attending museums, painting you, listening to your playlists. Finding the child he was depraved of for so long. Being an angsty teenager and loving it.

“This is considered fun?” A dark eyebrow of his would raise teasingly. There you sat, at a sport's game, the roaring crowd trembling the stadium and stabbing his ears. The golden beam of the sun roasting both you, and the overpriced popcorn tossing and gurgling in his stomach.

But, deep down, the liveliness of the crowd intrigued him. Even he'd find himself screaming along with the masses on their feet, yelling out praise or curse words.

Damian's jade irises would slide over to you, the sheer glee decorating your features. A painting. He'd see a masterpiece in you; how that expression would translate onto a canvas.

[atlabeth]

🧸 dare i say luke castellan fluff..... please.... CONGRATS ON 3K!!!!

summer stressed

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of athena reader

summary: summer is over, most of your siblings are gone, but you still can't relax. fortunately, luke is pretty good at it.

a/n: thank you for the request sorry that these are taking so long but thats life !! this one is for all my anxious girlies that always think they're forgetting something even when there is absolutely nothing to do (me finishing finals and still feeling like i should be doing something at all times)

wc: 788

warning(s): all fluff

“This feels weird.” 

“How does it feel weird?” Luke asks, amused. 

“We’re just… sitting here,” you say. 

“Is that a problem?” 

Your head rests on Luke’s chest as you lay in your bed together, one of his arms curled protectively around you as he keeps the other behind his head. Every so often, he trails his fingers down your arm, plays with your hair a bit, adjusts his position to make you more comfortable. 

You can feel the warmth of his skin even through his camp shirt, and it makes up for the slight chill of the Athena cabin. He’s basically your own personal space heater. You wouldn’t classify any of this as a problem. 

“No,” you say. “The opposite of a problem.” 

Luke chuckles, and you can feel his eyes on you. “Then why does it feel weird?” 

You let out a huff and sit up, turning to face your boyfriend. “Because we’re just sitting here.” 

“You’ve already said that, babe.” He smiles, and you have the urge to kiss him right there. You wonder if he knows the power he holds with that damn smile. 

“It’s too quiet,” you say, gesturing around your cabin. “It’s never a good sign when things are quiet.” 

“Could that be because more than half of your cabin is gone?” he asks. 

“My siblings are smart,” you say. “They’re good at causing chaos in silence.” 

“And if they are, that’s a problem for another day.” 

“I’m still forgetting something,” you insist. “Are you sure I’m off the clock for today?” 

Luke nods. “All the counselors get the day off from leading lessons after the last day of summer. Everyone’s off the clock.” 

“And I don’t have anything I need to clear with Chiron.” 

“You had the conversation with him about going into the city to get stuff for Jane’s party last week, and we’re taking a van out in two days,” Luke says. “Nothing else I know of.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Positive.” 

“There’s really nothing else?” 

“Nothing,” he promises. 

You look around your cabin and shake your head. “No. No— this place is a mess. I’ve got to clean up before inspections—” 

Luke catches your wrist as you try to get up and says your name softly. “Your cabin is spotless, ace. I think I can see my reflection in the floorboards.” 

“Still, Luke,” you insist as you look at him. “There’s got to be something we should be doing.” 

“There isn’t!” he exclaims. “I’ve never met anyone more desperate to be doing busy work, babe. All that talk about us getting some alone time for nothing.” 

“I just have this feeling that I’m missing something,” you say as you shake your head.

Luke laughs again, and you find yourself smiling just at the sound. He’s just so beautiful when he’s happy. “Alright, ace. Want me to ease your worries?” 

“You can try,” you say. “But you’ve spent enough time with Annabeth to know what she’s capable of. Imagine dealing with a whole cabin of Annabeths.” 

“You may have a whole cabin of Annabeths, but I’ve got a whole cabin of thieves, pranksters, and unclaimed kids. I think I’ve had my fair share of cleaning up messes.” 

“Alright, pretty boy,” you say, your smile growing despite yourself. “Ease my worries.” 

Luke nods, and he sits up so he can be eye level with you. He’s still got your wrist in his hand, and as he talks, he absentmindedly trails his thumb over your skin. “Yesterday was the last day of summer, and half of camp is gone, including your cabin. We spent the entire day fixing things up and making sure all our siblings were ready to go and doing everything Chiron and Mr. D asked. Everyone that wanted to leave left, all the counselors—including you—executed everything flawlessly, and there is nothing left to do but relax for a bit.” 

“My cabin—” 

“You’ve already cleaned it three times,” Luke says. 

“It doesn’t hurt to do it a fourth,” you shrug. 

Luke smiles and shakes his head. “It’s spotless, ace. The only thing left to do is enjoy some well-deserved alone time.”  

You meet his gaze, that slight smile still on your lips, and Luke tilts his head. “So? Have your worries been eased?” 

“...Mostly,” you say, and your smile turns coy. “Some kisses might help me forget them completely, though.” 

Luke laughs, and his eyes gleam as they drop down to your lips for a moment. He brings you even closer with the hand still around your wrist, then he drops it in favor of slinging an arm around your waist. When he speaks, his voice is much softer, though it’s got a rugged edge.

“Now that is something I can do.” 

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 32 || The Heavy Tension (pt. 2)

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & sexual tension.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE NEXT FEW DAYS are dull and you feel so grey. Everything that occurred on that fateful Friday, you push to the deepest and darkest depths of your mind. Thinking about the situation only makes you confused so, you push it away.

Gojo doesn't speak to you for a while, he doesn't text you, doesn't call, and you're pretty sure he's avoiding you. Even so, you could live with it. It made it easier for you not to think about everything.

So, you just focused on your next task which was Sukuna.

Gojo had consumed so much of your brain that you forgot all about Sukuna almost entirely. Every day leading up to the Thursday you were set to meet up with him, you thought about how things would go down. He told you to meet him at the same place and the same time and that there would be no party this time.

The house you were in was huge and you don't even think you remember the directions he gave you. Hell, do you even remember where the damn house itself is? Gojo was the one that drove you there after all...

Because of this, you wondered if you should text Sukuna and ask him. He did give you his number after all.

You debated on doing so every day up until Thursday came. You don't know why you were so anxious about the whole thing but it took you quite some time to work up the confidence to text the man. Maybe it was because of how intimidating he is?

But, he's also ridiculously hot.

With that thought, as you lay in your bed that Thursday morning, you grabbed your phone. Just as you raise it into your line of vision, you notice a message already sitting there at the top of your notification list. It was from a minute ago, from Sukuna.

Your eyes widened at his timing and you smiled a little as your fear of texting him faded, moving to see what he said and respond.

The male asked if you were still coming over today and you replied with a simple 'yeah' and then went on to ask him for his address, to which he responded within minutes by sending it to you.

The conversation was so short that you didn't even know what you were sweating over. That took the weight off your shoulders and you made sure to spend the rest of the day mentally preparing for that.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You were standing outside of the mansion before you knew it, one of your hands buried into the pocket of your jacket as the cold November air brushed over your exposed skin. You shivered a little, not too fond of being outside so late and ready to get inside already.

Your knuckles gently tapped across the surface of the large doors presented before you. It was pretty dark but there were these nice lights that lit up as you walked up the entrance path so you got a decent view of the scenery that surrounds Sukuna's place when there's no party.

Nonetheless, after your knock, you moved to ring the doorbell but you were interrupted by one of the double doors swinging open. Your eyes went wide at the person who allowed you inside, seeing that they were in no way shape, or form, Sukuna.

As you stepped into the house, you took a slight glance around the spotless interior that didn't reak of partygoers, your admiration only lasting a few seconds before your last name was said by the person who'd let you in. Your head turned to them and you raised a brow.

They've got quite the appearance to them; with short, bob-cut white hair and a unique part of their hairstyle that's dyed red, androgynous features, and a stoic expression, they motion to take your coat from you, to which you chirp out an 'oh, sorry' in response.

You didn't wear anything crazy, just a pair of black sweats-- you weren't trying to impress Sukuna after all so you saw no point in dressing up. As your jacket slides off your shoulders and your arms, you watch as the white-haired individual goes to hang it up nearby.

"He's upstairs waiting for you," They inform you, making your turn to look toward the stairs.

You wanted to ask where but when you turned back to do so, the person was gone already-- making their way down a nearby hallway. Their steps weren't quick or anything but you noticed how far they'd gotten from you in such a short amount of time.

With a shrug, you furthered into the house. It was quite warm inside so that made you feel more at ease as you made your way up the staircase.

Everything was beyond clean. So much so that the house looked like an entirely new place in comparison to the last time you were there. The second-floor hallway seemed longer than you remembered and it was so spacious.

You slip your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants as you stroll down the hallway, your steps stuttering as you glance into one of the rooms. You back yourself up and narrow your eyes.

The bedroom door was wide open and inside you spotted a picture of Choso, one you'd seen before. Unable to ignore your curiosity, you took one last glance down the hall to make sure Sukuna was nowhere in sight and then dipped into the room.

You just wanted a closer look, nothing crazy.

Doing so, as you approached the portrait you also took in the bedroom's furniture. It looked almost exactly like Choso's bedroom in his apartment. The color palette of the room matched his vibe, his style, everything. Hell, you just knew it was his bedroom.

But, it didn't look like anyone had lived inside the room in years. You saw a sheer layer of dust lying on the nightstand beside the photo you wanted to look at so it was clear that it hardly even got cleaned. Carefully, you pulled the picture up and inspected it, seeing a cute image of Choso and Yuji hugging each other.

It made you smile because you know that this exact picture is taped up in the sun visor of Choso's car, just a smaller version that's not framed of course.

Okay so, maybe you do miss Choso. And of course, it's as you're about to fuck Sukuna that you start thinking like this... A little sigh escaped your lips and you moved to place the picture down.

As the item is put back in place, you notice the lighting in the bedroom that was coming from the hallway dims, almost like a shadow-

Oh shit.

You were caught, weren't you?

Goosebumps rise along your back and you swallow hard before turning your head around, noticing a familiar man standing at the doorway of the bedroom you were in. Your eyes go wide and then the lights of the room flick on, revealing your features to Sukuna who was wondering why you were in the room to begin with.

You open your mouth to explain yourself but he cuts you off with that deep voice of his, "How'd you end up in here?" Sukuna asked.

Were you sweating? You're not sure but you sure as hell felt nervous even though you hadn't done anything criminal, "U-Uh, I uhm, I got curious..." You murmur honestly.

Sukuna tilts his head and those dark maroon eyes of his narrow, "Curious?"

"Well... I uhm..."

He nods his chin toward the picture you just had in your hands, "You know my brother, don't you?"

Your eyes widen, "N-No-"

"You're not a good liar, sweetheart," He chuckles, slowly entering the room.

Your heart pulses strongly at that nickname. In your mind, only one person should be calling you such a thing. And Sukuna's voice alone was so damn intoxicating, it's like he was seducing you by just speaking.

You swallow, "I'm not lying, I don't know your brother."

Sukuna scoffs, steadily approaching you, "I'm not talking about the one that looks like me, y'know."

"I know but-"

"He's talked about you before," Sukuna says suddenly.

You think your heart sinks into your toes. Holy shit, you thought Sukuna and Choso didn't like each other? Does Sukuna know you've slept with Choso? Does that fuck things up-

"I'm joking, relax yourself, woman." Sukuna starts chuckling, mocking the shock and fear on your face, "Though, I don't understand why you lied about knowing him, it's pretty damn obvious now."

You let out a relieved sigh, "I uh... I just think it's weird that I know him, considering what I'm about to do with you..."

Sukuna arches a brow, "What you're about to do with me? Remind me what we're about to do again, I forgot." He taunts, clearly lying as a smirk spreads across his face.

The man is now standing right in front of you and you feel like you're shrinking under his gaze all over again, "I mean," Your eyes drop down and you fiddle with your fingers, "Aren't we gonna-"

He cuts you off, his fingers going to your chin and lifting your head so that you can't avoid eye contact with him. Your words fall off your tongue and you're mute again, to which he scoffs, "Go on..."

You try to collect yourself, taking a deep breath and batting your eyelashes at him, "Aren't you gonna fuck me?"

That wicked smile of his appears and the sight makes you so beyond weak in the knees. Sukuna lets out a low chuckle and then leans down a bit so that he can be at your eye level, "Is that what you want me to do?" He whispers, "You want me to fuck you like I should have last week?"

You're nodding before you even realize it.

Sukuna hums and then his thumb slips up to your bottom lip, dragging it down a little, "Speak, woman."

"Yeah," You breathe out, "That's exactly what I want."

He hums and then glances off to the side. Then, that smirk of his widens and he chuckles, "In here?"

Your body tenses up. Fucking Sukuna in Choso's old bedroom is the last thing you'd ever want to do. "W-What? No..." You say.

Sukuna raises a brow and his gaze glides back over to you, "No? What's wrong with this room?"

"Everything," You hum, "It's just weird since I know him..."

The man's head tips to the side slowly and his eyes gaze way too intently into your own, eyelids lowering as you begin like he can see right through you. "How's it weird?" Sukuna scoffs, "One little photo's got you all weirded out?"

"Well... isn't this his room?" You ask, looking off to the side to avoid the constant eye contact.

Sukuna's eyebrows raise in surprise and he laughs again before leaning back to stand up straight. His tattooed muscular arms cross over his chest as he folds them. The man then looks around the bedroom.

"Does it look like he's been in this room lately?" Sukuna chuckles, "Emo fuck moved out the second he got the chance."

"Okay but still," You sigh, "I don't wanna do anything in someone else's room."

With a roll of his eyes, Sukuna turns away from you, "Fine then, follow me."

When you look at the man, you quickly begin to follow behind him as he walks you out. In the hall, he waits until you're out of the bedroom and then shuts the door behind you.

After which, he leads you into the same bedroom he had you in a week ago and you shut the door as you enter behind him.

"This isn't anyone else's room, right?" You ask carefully.

Sukuna is seen pulling his shirt up over his head before tossing it into a pile on the floor, and then he heads toward his bathroom, chuckling at your words. "Relax, it's a spare." He tells you.

You lose sight of him as he enters his bathroom and the light flicks on, the door left open. "Oh... So am I not special enough to be in your room?" You question, smiling a little as you carefully follow him.

"It's a mess," Sukuna tells you, "And the last thing I want to do is have sex in a room of filth."

You scoff lightly, approaching the bathroom door frame and peeking inside. Sukuna is seen looking for something in one of the counter drawers and you get the full display of his back.

God damn is his back profile sexy. You saw it last time you were here but the sight never fails to impress you. His shoulders are so broad, his back muscles are so defined, and... Your eyes narrow as you notice a bruise on the back of his upper right shoulder, near his tattoo.

You're stepping into the bathroom and moving to get a closer look without a second thought. Sukuna looks over that same shoulder when he notices you behind him and he hisses as soon as your fingertips make contact with the bruise.

"Sorry," You murmur. He glares at you but you don't feel scared, instead, you touch the bruise again, the contact much gentler this time, "How'd this happen?"

His glare fades in an instant at the sound of your concern. You really know nothing about him and it shows-- the fact surprising to him. Sukuna has quite the reputation for himself so he's surprised you're this clueless.

"A fight," Sukuna tells you, his gaze dropping to your hand as you shift your palm over the mark.

He swallows hard when your lips replace your hand and you kiss his skin gently, "What kinda' fight?" You whisper, shifting your gaze up to his.

It's slow but he soon meets your eyes, "Bad one. Fucker' snuck a hit on me like the little bitch he is," Sukuna curses.

You hum and then kiss over the bruise a second time, making the man tense up, "Does it hurt?"

He hates to admit it but, to little extent, "Yes," It did hurt, "But I'm about to put somethin' on it so, I'll be fine."

You grin, "I can do it for you."

"You like taking care of people, don't you?" Sukuna hums, his words sounding like an observation he's made.

You chuckle sheepishly, "Sometimes, yeah."

"Might' have to keep you around if that's the case," Sukuna says.

What does he mean by that? Keep you around? For what? Wait... he's not growing interested in you for more than sex, is he?

You didn't think much of your interactions with him but his words just now make your brows push together.

"Keep me around?" You try to play it off, "Were you planning on getting rid of me?"

He laughs and then turns his head away from you and down to the drawer his hand was still in, quickly grabbing the item he'd been looking for. His hand then motions back to you and you take the tube of numbing cream from him.

"No, but, I fight a lot and I'd love to have a pretty face like yours taking care of me after each one," Sukuna comments, his words making your heart race.

You open what he's handed to you and move to apply the product onto his skin, "You've got a pretty face downstairs who I'm sure takes care of you just fine."

Sukuna's brows pinch together for a moment and he squints in thought, wondering who the hell you're talking about before he remembers. "Uraume?!" The man scoffs.

"Yeah," You hum, smiling a little as you swipe the cream over his bruise, earning another hiss from him in reaction to the chill, "Do you not find them pretty?"

Sukuna rolls his eyes at your question, "Uraume and pretty don't belong in the same sentence."

You frown and press your thumb into his bruise, making his eyes widen as his shoulder limps, "That's mean, Sukuna."

"G-God damnit woman, that fucking hurts," He snaps, turning his head back to you with a sharp and angered glare.

You lighten the pressure of your thumb, quickly acknowledging that you're playing with fire right now. To make up for it, you do this circular motion with your thumb and massage the area.

"Sorry," You chirp innocently.

He would've spewed more curses out to you but as you start to massage him, a sense of soothing takes over the area and he relaxes under your touch. "You did that on purpose," Sukuna utters through gritted teeth.

You giggle and keep running your thumb over his bruise, doing well enough for him to face forward and flutter his eyes shut. A smile graces your face as you see clear evidence of you doing good and you lose yourself a little when the man starts letting out sounds.

There was this low hum that vibrated against his throat as you touched him just right, the noise giving you chills. It was so sexy and low that it gave you butterflies.

You sigh and continue for a while, wondering what other sounds you can prompt from him. With that, you apply a little more pressure, not enough to inflict pain but to instead soothe him once more.

Sukuna rolls his head back and his brows tense, a deep and core-throbbing hum leaving his lips, "Fuuck, that feels good..." He groans, smirking a bit afterward, "Keep goin'."

The praise brings heat in between your thighs but you try your best to focus on what you're doing, massaging him as best you can. Sukuna's head remains tossed back and he keeps his eyes shut, his face twisting up and scrunching every now and then as you work against his tense skin.

You take a slight peak around his body to see him in the mirror, eyeing his defined tattoo-covered abs and watching the way they flex and tense as you roll your thumb around just right. You smirk and lean forward a little, pressing your chest against his back and hearing him inhale sharply.

You then snake your other hand around his body and push up on your toes to look over his shoulder, watching your free hand lay flat against his abs. Sukuna moves his head to look down at your touch, raising a brow.

Your thumb presses a little harder into his shoulder and you watch his lips part and his eyebrows twist up. A soft breath of air leaves him and you smirk at how he almost just moaned.

Wanting to hear such a sound from him, you slide your hand downward to his v-line, running your delicate fingers against it while moving your thumb away from his shoulder. You then kiss around the bruised area, still watching his reaction in the mirror.

A smile graces your face and you slip a finger under the fabric of his sweatpants, making him close his mouth shut to stop himself from releasing any noises.

Sukuna then chuckled darkly, "I love an easy whore like you," He comments, catching you off guard by placing his hand over yours, "So eager to touch me, aren't you?"

You slide over a bit and kiss the nape of his neck, making him flinch. "Very eager," You reply slyly.

He hums. "What happens when I get eager to touch you?" Sukuna asks.

You move to stand flat on your feet, wrap your other arm around his body, and basically hug him. "Are you eager to touch me?" You question in return, realizing that the man has hardly laid a finger on you so far.

His large calloused fingers wrap around your wrists and you feel him pull your hands away from his body. Sukuna releases one and then brings the other to his mouth, placing a kiss on the palm of your hand.

You giggle at the contact, "Guess' that answers my question..."

Sukuna grins against your skin before moving your hand away from his mouth. The man then uses his grip on your wrist to pull you from around his body. You stumble a bit due to his aggressive tug and you're quickly moved in front of him.

Your head angles up as you meet his eyes, your body trapped between his muscular frame and the bathroom counter. Sukuna leans down a little, placing his hands on the counter behind you and at your sides.

He then tilts his head, "I'm eager to do more than just touch you."

Your hands raise to his shoulders, fingers soon sliding up along his skin until you get to his neck, "Then do more than just touch me, Sukuna. What're you waiting for?" You whisper, tone sultry.

He licks his lips and then cracks a sexy smile, "I like building up your anticipation," He claims, "I want you begging for me."

One of his legs shifts in between yours and you inhale sharply as his thigh nears your heat. Your hands go to his arms as if to brace yourself, "Please?" You whisper.

Sukuna's smile fades into something lustful, "Please what?"

Your hands begin to rise until you're able to wrap your arms around his neck, "Please touch me."

His eyebrows raise a bit, "Touch you where?" Sukuna asks as his leg lifts a little.

You feel his thigh press up against your clothed sex and your breath hitches, "T-There," You breathe out.

Sukuna's gaze drops to your lips and he then slides his leg forward, causing it to rub against your sex, "Right there?" He asks in a low tone.

You nod your head and roll your hips forward just a little, "Yeah, right there..."

Sukuna tilts his head and his face nears yours, lips brushing over your own as he speaks, "Like this?" He questions while drawing his leg back but in an upward motion.

That, combined with the slight movement of your hips allowed you a pleasurable moment of friction. You let out a quiet moan and Sukuna smiles before finally pressing his lips to yours.

His hands then go to your waist, the touch making you tense up within his grasp. Part of his hand slips under the shirt you're wearing, feeling your bare skin against his fingers as his lips work over yours. Meanwhile, his other hand slides down to your hip and he pulls you up along his leg.

"Mmh," You hum into his mouth and receive a half smile from him momentarily.

The feeling of his lips curling into a smirk for just a moment makes you simply melt. Your arms hold onto his neck tighter and Sukuna's hand begins to raise up under your shirt, the fabric bundling up at his wrist as he does so.

Wet and slick sounds of his tongue and lips slipping over your own fill the air, each sound accompanied by an occasional groan from the male. Sukuna's teeth soon latch onto your lower lip and he tugs at it, sucking on your skin afterward.

Both of your eyes open and you two make brief eye contact, breaths shared and the gaze intense. Sukuna smirks as he takes in your flushed features, biting his bottom lip as he feels you grinding over his thigh as best as you can.

After his second of taking in your presence, he leans back in, his tongue slipping out of his mouth and licking over your lips before you part them for him. It's sensual and hot the way he works the appendage into your mouth, both of your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue reaches yours.

Sukuna snakes a hand up and behind you, his fingers brushing against your spine and making you arch into his body before he reaches your bra. As you make out with the man, you hear a snap and feel the way the man casually breaks the clasp to your bra instead of undoing it like a normal person.

A surprised hum leaves your lips and you try to pull away from him but he grows aggressive, firmly pressing his mouth against yours and letting out a slight chuckle in reaction to the way you're squirming. The hand that was on your hip then flies up to your neck and you moan.

Sukuna pries his mouth away from your own with a loud pop, a slim string of saliva hanging from the tip of his tongue and your lips.

The man tilts his head at you tauntingly, "Aw, look at you..." He coos, his large hand sliding up to your flushed expression, "All fucked out from some kisses?"

You pant, just barely able to catch your breath before swallowing heavily, "N-No..."

Sukuna laughs at your response and then both of his hands go beneath your thighs. You gasp when he lifts you up and onto the counter behind you, removing the friction from between your legs. He makes up for that by then gliding his grasp up and onto your waist again.

The male tugs your body close to his as he pushes himself forward, allowing you to feel the bulge in his sweats right against your clothed cunt. Your lips part and you let out a breathy sound, one that he smiles at.

Sukuna's then quick to move to work your shirt up and over your head, along with the bra in which he'd just broken-- not that you comment on it just yet. Your upper half is then revealed to the man and his eyes drop to the sight.

He smirks, "Y'know... I think I like you, sweetheart," Sukuna suddenly comments.

Your heart sinks again, "Like me?"

His gaze snaps back up to your eyes, "Not in a romantic way, don't get excited."

You weren't-- you got worried. "I-I'm not but, I mean, I would hope you like me..." You hum, pouting slightly at his words to play it off.

Sukuna licks his lips, "Yeah, I do," He says, then snickering, "I'm just letting you know because..." The man leans toward your face again and his lips brush right over your own, "I'm about to fuck you like I hate you."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Little Kreature (The Boys Drabble)

Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader (only indicator for gender is the phrase 'atta girl') / requests are open

Summary: The mission goes well and Butcher's found a surprise for you.

Fic type: fluff (gore mentions).

The Boys: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Oi, love," you hear Butcher call from the other end of the hall. "Come take a look at this, eh?"

You roll your eyes but do as you're told, wandering down the hallway, streaking your fingers along the walls and trailing them through the blood that was splattered up and down and all the way across the eggshell-white walls. Well, they were eggshell. Hmm. You think you like red better.

You reach Butcher, giving him the side-eye when he gives your ass a slap and an accompanying "atta girl."

"What, Butcher?"

He nods his head towards the opened door, and what you see when you look inside has your jaw dropping open in shock.

"Don't you say I do 'nuffin for y'ah," he groused, checking down the hallway to make sure no more guards were coming up the stairs.

It's almost startling, seeing the spotless room when you've just waded through the guts of about twelve people splattered across every surface you could lay your eyes on. Yeah, you were the one who gutted them all, but still. What could you say? It was a gift.

But right there, sitting on the edge of the bed, was a puppy. A little speck of a thing, all soft-eared and floppy-skinned. He was precious, and the way Butcher was looking at you- you knew he'd already decided you could keep the thing.

"Oh, aren't you a precious little baby," you cooed, wiping the blood off your hands and onto your jeans before you reached out for the puppy to sniff your hand. His little head flopped to the side and you just about melted right then and there.

"Oh, Billy, look at him," you pouted, turning around and showing your boyfriend-cross-boss-cross-situationship the baby in your arms.

"Yeah, yeah, cute little cunt, ain't 'e?"

When you stood there content to coo at the thing for another however long, Butcher grunted, fingers shifting around the trigger on his handgun. He wanted to leave now that you'd taken out the Vought exec and her guards. Clearly, she was a fan of dogs. It almost made you feel a little guilty. Almost.

"Right love," Butcher said, deciding you'd both dicked around long enough. "Let's get this show on the road, eh? We don't want to be here when they send more supes to figure out what's happened. Grab y'er pup and let's boogie."

"Sir yes, sir," you replied with a flirtatious wink before making your way back through the blood-soaked home and out the door where MM and the others were waiting for you, guards and mission all but forgotten.

Now you only needed to pick a name for your little friend.

"How about Kreature?" You asked the pup as Frenchie opened the van door and ushered you inside, Butcher hot on your heels.

"Whatever you want, love," came Butcher's voice, assuming you'd been speaking to him.

Kreature it was, then.

[miyoriia]

I know we eroticize morning stubble before we even get the chance to shave but we need to do more. We need to eroticize stubble and facial hair and letting it grow as much as we eroticize bushes and leg hair and armpit hair. You need to realize that it's just the same and taking that step forward is easy. You know you are a girl. Body hair will never change that no matter the form. Your body is beautiful no matter the amount of hair that naturally grows on it. Anywhere.

This is not about your personal preference for yourself but for others. For the girls who wake up in the morning and agonize over every shaded skin cell on their face. For the girls who shave their face to the point that they've done damage unintentionally to themselves. It's difficult living under the expectation that your face is a spotless clear smooth surface because our faces aren't. That beauty standard is unrealistic and we do not need to live under it.

I love you for everything you are.