#soap branding tips

[cosmosjourney1]

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[suguann]

✎. simon will do this, if it makes johnny feel better.

tags. fem!reader, established relationship (simon/reader), threesome, double penetration in one hole, slight size kink, dirty talk [18+ only]

featuring. simon, soap

masterlist

Simon doesn’t share, but he makes an exception this time after his best friend’s date is a no-show, and he isn’t heartless enough to let Johnny hang out at the pub alone. Anybody will tell you: he can be a real nice guy when he wants to be.

And you don’t mind the extra company or another mouth to feed, that the flowers in the vase you put on the counter were meant for someone else, how Johnny gets flirty after his fourth beer, or— 

“Fuck, love,” Simon grunts into your shoulder when he finally eases his cock into you beside Johnny’s. “I guess you can take it like a champ, after all.”

But you hardly hear him over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and the creaky mattress below your knees.

Johnny thumbs away your tears while you tremble above him, cupping your face to pull you into a kiss so you have something to focus on other than the feeling of being split down the middle—it takes an extra amount of effort not to clench down when you already feel like you’re about to break in two.

“Look at you,” Johnny mumbles against your lips. “Never thought you’d really let me do this.”

Then he pulls out, slick heat gripping him the whole way, and pushes deeper inside, punching a shaky breath out of you. 

He and Simon are in perfect sync, keeping you full while the other drags his cock out, only to fill you up again. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are—at how much you like it—a hazy cloud settling over you as they use you for their pleasure.

Because Johnny’s sad, and you have a thing for making people happy.

Simon sucks little possessive marks into your shoulder and across your spine, murmuring filthy praise against your skin that consists of “sweetest and tightest pussy, my perfect little fucktoy” and “so fucking pretty.”

“That’s it.” Johnny’s voice is low and strained, barely heard above the loud squelching between your legs, but he sighs it into your mouth as he slowly comes apart. “Fuck—ah—you feel so good.”

A hand dips between you to press against your belly, where you can feel them, hot and heavy against your walls, making you squeal as a little ball of warmth travels down to your toes and all the way to the tips of your fingers. Simon fists your hair, tugging you away from Johnny so you’re looking up at him upside down. 

“So greedy that you needed two cocks to fill this soft little cunt, huh?”

You whine, unable to form an actual response outside of a few jumbled syllables, but a slap against your ass makes you whisper a shuddered yes.

He tells you to open your mouth before he spits onto your awaiting tongue, some of it hitting your cheek. When you swallow obediently, he smears what doesn’t make it across your lips with the thick pad of his thumb. 

“Don’t forget who you belong to,” he sneers, at odds with the soft way he kisses your cheek and reverently chokes on your name. Neither of you hear Johnny groaning under you as you clench down hard at the possessiveness in his voice—because at the feel of his wedding band pressing against your throat like a brand, how can you forget?

Simon doesn’t share, but this, he’ll do. Just this once because you’re already his, and he wants Johnny to know what it’s like to have a woman like you.

[saetiate]

itoshi sae x f!reader smut. portal sex, lowk witchcraft (sigils drawn that mean the toy he fucks into = your pussy basically). p in v. not representative of real toys at all, this is very much fantasy. word count: 1.5k author's note: this is fucking deranged tbh but also very hot and different from the usual poetry of lovemaking i usually write. wrote this so horny that i feel like i should apologize or something

There's a sex toy in Sae's hand.

The term "pocket pussy" itself fills him with disgust. There's a strange symbol on the back of it, which he presumes is just the company's logo. Who is he to judge the branding of a sex company.

He presses his thumb to the entrance of the toy, tracing around the labia. It's surprisingly detailed, even the pearl of a clit lays right at the top, as if eager and waiting. It's almost…

He thumbs it curiously, only to be met with hardened plastic.

He doesn't know what he expected.

This really isn't him at all. Frankly, the sales associate was pushing this onto him way too hard. But he's not going to fault someone for doing their job, and she seemed like she really needed the commission; purchasing it was more like a favor to her.

But now he's in his bathroom, and he's cleaned the item inside and out, sterilized and soaped and dried. There's a little dispenser for putting in water-based lubricant, which he does have lying around. Something to make it more realistic, is what the salesperson said. Doesn't change the fact that it's just a plastic toy in his opinion, but he presumes most people are imagining someone in particular when they use it.

Sae doesn't have anyone. So he pours just a little bit of the lubricant in.

This is stupid. He thinks it even as he lays down in his bed, toy in hand. He's never been into dating or hooking up, but it really has been a long time.

~

This is stupid.

You're holding an image of a sigil in one hand, the witch that called you into your store and gave it to you (with insistence on payment immediately, might you add) said if you drew this on the back of your panties, you'd meet the love of your life!. Which, sure. You presume it's something about bodily fluids and the drawing. What do you know about sex magic?

So what if you grabbed a pair of old underwear and a marker, and started copying the sigil. It's been forever since you've last dated. You'll at least try it once. And then you can toss them to the side with a scoff and an obvious "that did nothing". You gotta try it before you kick it, right?

You lay down in bed and stare at the ceiling, the moon outside rotating over the sky.

And then you feel it, a sensation over your clit. Something light. A trick of the wind, maybe. But it's pointed enough to rock you out of your sleep. It's like a finger is tracing over either side of your pussy, dipping just slightly into your folds.

This is way more than you expected. You almost want to take off your sleep shorts just to check on the sigil, because what the actual fuck? Are you dreaming right now? But then you feel the sensation of something entering you, and it's big — much bigger than anything you've been used to. It stretches and aches but somehow doesn't hurt, like you've been prepped. And it's —

Holy fuck, it feels incredible.

The cock feels like it sinks into your pussy perfectly, running against your g-spot and pressing against your cervix. It's warm and hot inside of you and it thrusts slowly, inch by inch pressing into you over and over again and you're reminded of how long it's been since you've felt something like this. So full and whole and yet you don't know if you've ever had it this good.

The slow pace has you begging for him to speed up, even as the head of it moves and presses against every spot perfectly. At the end of every thrust, the tip presses to your cervix, and your mind goes completely blank. It grinds there for a moment almost knowingly, until your back arches and your hands grip the pillows tight.

~

It's so wet, around his cock, dripping down his member. He swears he only added a little bit of the lubricant, has half a mind to check the little cartridge if he wasn't doubling down with the way it tightens around his cock.

"F-Fuck," he can't help but swear as his hands press against either side of the toy like he would around someone's waist, fingertips that would create indents in someone's skin.

It squeezes him so, so, tight. And then it gets even wetter. Like —

Like someone's having an orgasm around his cock.

What- he doesn't even have time to process. His mind is reeling and he hisses between gritted teeth as the pussy becomes a vice around his member. It's so, so tight and warm and wet and it feels like a miracle he manages to fuck through it the entire time.

And then it relaxes. And he finally feels like he can breathe.

He pulls the toy closer to him, until the pussy presses right against the base of his cock. Feels the way the wetness drips all over him, the squelch of it audible, how it almost jerks uncontrollably around him. He doesn't know what the hell this function is but he knows if this was a real person, the reaction would make him chuckle. He presses down onto the top of the toy like he would someone's lower back —

And then he's slamming into it much faster than before. Pulls it down on him over and over again

~

You have never orgasmed from just penetration before, and yet this — this was insane. There's just one problem.

You still feel so wholly, incredibly full.

You came. You came. Whatever sex magic this is, shouldn't it end there? When bodily fluids meet the sigil? And yet you feel yourself get even fuller, like your hips are right against someone else's.

You find yourself falling uncontrollably, face-down and ass-up against your bed, as the thrusts get faster and faster. You're moaning against the sheets, mind so fucked out you can barely think.

And then you feel it. That sensation over your clit.

~

Sae wonders —

He touches the clit where he knows it's located, an engorged pearl that feels so much more nimble from the last time he tried touching it. He can't see it, so he can't tell for sure that it looks different, but what he does know is the way the pussy tightens around him immediately as he touches it. He runs his thumb in a circle over it and it's like the walls around his cock spasm, finds himself playing with it just to feel

And then something strange happens.

Sae doesn't have anyone. He doesn't have anyone to imagine. And yet he finds himself so clearly seeing hair splayed against the sheets, skin under his hands, can hear pretty gasps and moans falling from a mouth.

It drives him crazy. He wants to press his chest to your back, skin to skin. Lay a kiss over your shoulder and make you come on command. Wants to hold you up by your jaw so he can watch your face when you come.

"Oh, fuck," he says to no one, hair falling in his face from the sweat that drips down with the wetness over his cock. And then he comes hard, like vertigo, mind tilting at its axis as he spills into the pussy.

~

You're begging. You don't know for what, or what for, or who to, but your hands grip the sheets so tight that little crescent moon indents start to form through the material and onto your palm. The stimulation inside you and against your clit has your head heady and in the clouds and you're seconds away from having another orgasm.

That's when you see it, like a vision through a mist. You look over your shoulder like there might actually be someone there and see teal eyes like tumbled glass, wisps of red-brown hair. You can feel hands gripped tightly against your waist, slamming you back down onto him. A deep moan that makes white-hot sparks of satisfaction run up your spine.

You come shortly after, and it feels like you're coming around a hard cock and that has you dialed up even further, your open mouth pressed against the bed. You want to catch his face as he comes, you think you do almost barely through the corner of your eye, through the haze of your own orgasm as his thrust get sloppy and something wet spurts inside of you.

What?

When you press your fingers under the cloth and against your own pussy, there's nothing there but your essence. And yet you can feel it, the way it drips down, unable to be contained between your pussy squeezing around his cock. You gasp and moan as he seems to finally finish inside of you, working through your overstimulation with a few short thrusts.

Heavy breaths fill the air as clarity finally comes to your senses, the fog of lust and magic starting to ebb. You've soaked the bed with sweat, slick dripping down your cunt to the point it's started to slick down your inner thigh.

You'll meet the love of your life. You're not sure if this really counts as a meeting.

i have a rin version coming too btw :> just gotta go thru some last minute edits

[eowynstwin]

peristalsis - viii - epilogue

selkie!soap x reader. strangers to "lovers." rebirth. mommy issues. semi-public sex. breeding season. smut. pregnancy reference. the end. . Running away from life to the Scottish Hebrides, you meet a man who won't leave you alone. . Masterlist. Ao3.

previous

Your pelt is not the same as Johnny’s.

Its greys are subtler than his paint-splash riot; nearly a solid dove, sparsely freckled with dots of charcoal. It’s lighter in your hands than you think a second skin should be—sometimes it feels so gauzy, so filmy, that you fear to tear it simply by wrapping it around your waist.

(Where it belongs.)

You can’t bear to part with it. You must be touching it at all times, fingers idly rolling a few soft strands of fur, palms smoothing out the wrinkles over your lap. Sometimes you find yourself staring at it, never knowing how long you have been until you come out of the trance with a jolt, neck aching and stomach growling.

You have no idea how Johnny went without his for even a day—the thought of ever putting yours down feels like abandoning a days-old infant.

Truly, though, the real infant is you.

The world touches your senses as if they are brand-new. Every sound is sharper. Every color is brighter. The world has come into focus in such a way that you are surprised you ever thought you could see it clearly before—nothing blurs in the periphery anymore.

It’s as if you have been completely reset. Every nerve ending tuned toward decadence. Everywhere you look, you find something that captivates you.

It makes you dizzy with rapture.

He is terribly amused by it, Johnny. He’s amused by all of it. As you settle into your new self, he watches you quiver and shake on new, coltish legs, and grins amiably at your frustration, quick to smooth over your frustration with his mouth on yours.

He’s been through it, after all. More than once, even—he has two resurrections, to your one.

And you’re quick to accept the appeasement he offers. Your appetites now yawn wide for anything you can fit inside of them, and you are voracious. You bite at him when he kisses you, which only makes him laugh more, and then he drags you down to the floor to rut like he knows you need to.

“I’m going to kill you someday,” you snarl at him, more than once, held against him back to front. “You did this to me, you fucking asshole.”

He grinds his cock deeper into you every time, touching some hidden nerve that has you clenching desperately around him, writhing with every limb as he laughs into your ear. “I could always pull out, bonnie, y’want me to do that?”

You claw at his naked hips behind you with the sharp tips of your nails, digging trails into the sheen of sweat coating his skin. “I’ll fucking kill you if you do.”

You’ve hissed and spat for too long to remember how to speak gently to him, but Johnny takes it in stride. He fits his teeth around your neck and cups the soft parts of your body with hands that can’t seem to get enough of the way your flesh spills between his fingers; when you spasm around him, howling your climax, he wrenches you against him with an iron grip and finishes deep inside of you moments later with a torn moan, thighs and hips hot and flush along your backside.

You threaten to castrate him if he pulls out anytime soon after. He kisses the indentations of his teeth and smooths his spread hand over your belly.

You end up with him, like this, more often than not. He always chuckles at your antics, your clenched teeth, the red lines and half-moons you leave on his back and thighs. Less with amusement than satisfaction—because these days, you don’t walk around without the bruises of his grasp painting your flanks, or the arch of his bite etched into your neck.

He’s been alone, too. He was alone from the start. All of a sudden awake to the world, unsteady with awareness, and so hungry all the time it must have felt like he could never be full—

And he hadn’t had anyone, not like you have him, to hold him in the throes of it.

You catch a look in his eyes, every now and again, and see the echoes of that time. It glints like a shard of sea glass catching rare sun beneath a wave. Dulled edges—he can think of it without hurting anymore. He can remember the craving without succumbing to its dissatisfaction, without falling into the gall welling in his stomach at the injustice of it. This was not always the case, but watching you, now, balms the ache in a way nothing before ever had.

You know this without his needing to explain, and you know it like scenting petrichor in the air. All you have to do is meet his gaze, and you know.

And he knows, too. Everything. You cannot see him without him seeing you, and he’s been looking at you with the kind of eyes you now possess for much, much longer. There is no depth within yourself that you can hide from him in.

He can look at you and know you’re hungry. He can watch the way you wave one hand and know you’re antsy. You can begin a sentence, and he knows the end of it without you having to finish.

It can only flay you to the bone. You are known. From the best to the worst parts of you, Johnny knows them like he knows the creases in the palms of his own hands. He knows the yawning chasm in you that near-overflows with your want, and he does not hesitate once at the precipice on his way to diving into it.

It pulls your jaw tight. You can only shudder with fever at the exposure, and reach for him. Again and again. Swallowing his laughter down like medicine.

John Price, when he finds out, heaves an enormous sigh of relief even your newly-heightened senses couldn’t see coming.

Your new vision peels back the gruffness. The gaze he has fixed on you, this whole time, has not been the apprehensive criticism of a lover’s apathetic friend. Instead, it is the concerned look of a stranger, one who gives a damn about what happens to a woman all alone on a side of the world to which she, until very recently, did not belong.

It had been invisible to you before; a wavelength of color your old eyes were unable to perceive. Now, you see so much of him that you wonder how you could have possibly missed it.

You see his exhaustion. His own loneliness, in self-imposed exile, one eye always on a man he fears will find a convenient cliff to jump off of in a fit of despair. You see sleepless nights, and notice for the first time a gold band on his ring finger, scuffed, in need of a good polish—if only he would take it off long enough to clean it.

“I’m sorry,” you say to him, out of nowhere, meeting the cool blue of his gaze. He doesn’t seem surprised at your understanding. He only nods.

“Ain’t been easy,” he allows.

But now you’re here. He’s not the only one Johnny has anymore. You can see the weight lift from him the moment you tell him you’re staying.

He goes to his office at the back of the pub with a lightened stride and returns, a little while later, with a stack of papers in his hand that he drops on the bar in front of you.

“Take care of the place,” he tells you with a heavy pat to your shoulder. “And don’t let Soap off easy. I’m going home.”

Price leaves you there with the deed to the pub and a casual wave over his shoulder. You do not see him again—though he’s left his phone number in one of the margins.

“Oh, aye?” Johnny says when you tell him, later that night as he’s boiling lobsters for dinner.

He doesn’t respond for a laden moment. You watch your report pass over him like a gentle wave; you see where it could build, where it could swirl up into something bigger, harder, angrier—but it doesn’t.

His back tightens, and then loosens, and he turns to grin at you over his shoulder.

“Barry, there’s a wall in there I’ve been dyin’ to knock down, and he wouldnae let me. Place is too claustrophobic, ask me.”

You arrange the silverware, letting his placidity wash over you.

About a week later, you drive Johnny’s truck somewhere with cell service, and call your mother.

The landscape of her emotions changes as rapidly as an ocean storm; elation and relief, to finally hear your voice. Hope when she asks you when you’re coming home. Confusion—when you tell her you aren’t.

Johnny explained it.

“We canna go far from the ocean, hen. Not for long. It won’t feel…right. I’ve tried. You get an itch, ken? You can ignore it at the start. But it willna go away, and it willna be denied, either. It’ll drive you mad if you don’t go back. So you canna stay away.”

And you’d known immediately what he’d meant—

You can feel it on the edge of the periphery. A lodestone in your belly points in its direction, always. You could close your eyes, start walking, and find yourself on the shore, pelt already in your hands. Sometimes, you find yourself waking in the middle of the night with the sound in your ears, legs twitching restlessly. You feel too hot and too cold at the same time, and thirsty, all over your body rather than just in your throat.

Any thought of moving further inland inspires an existential panic you can’t explain. The notion of a fifteen-hour flight, and landing somewhere that hasn’t seen an ocean for at least a million years, makes your skin feel so tight around your bones that you have to run to the nearest shoreline just to make sure the sea is still there.

You’re on a jetty right now, in fact, watching the water lap against the stones. It was the only thing you could think of that would give you the strength to make the call.

You cannot go home. You know now that somehow, you’d always expected to, deep down. You’d return to the house you grew up in, pet the old family dog. Meet for brunch at the same hole in the wall you’ve gone to for years.

Sometimes the price you pay to become something more does not reveal itself until it’s too late.

So you cry with your mother over the phone, when you explain that it’s best if you stay. You tell her that coming back would only hurt you if you tried, and this time, you aren’t even lying to her.

You don’t know if she’s actually comforted by the conciliatory offer you make of your new job tending bar—she doesn’t need to know you own the place yet—but she sniffles, and puts a brave face on it.

“You always did want to live somewhere else,” she offers, watery—but glad, you hear, that you’re alive.

You bite your lip.

From her, there will be no begging for you to come home. No entreaties of love or need.

When you say goodbye to her, you cry some more—but it isn’t the storm that used to claim you. You wrap your arms around yourself and squeeze, pinch the soft fur of your pelt and roll it between your fingers as you allow yourself to shake and weep, and when you catch your breath, you dry your face and drive back to the cottage, where Johnny is making lunch.

That night in bed, he holds you gently in his arms, rocking his hips into you as you cling to him with your fingernails.

“Don’t leave me,” you whisper in his ear.

He kisses the corners of your eyes before new tears can fall, and tightens his arms around you.

Each day you go to the sea.

It tugs at you, like a child tugging the hem of your shirt. Like a current pulling you outward. You wake every morning thinking not of breakfast, or the day ahead, but of that swaying world, slow and vast, hugging the edges of the land to coax it, eternally, back into the depths.

There is no serenity, now, like the serenity of the water. To enter the ocean is also to let it inside you; the barriers between yourself and the rest of the world thin out. You give some of yourself away, and receive something new to settle in the empty spaces left behind.

You think you understand now why Johnny is always smiling.

The cold no longer stings when you bare your skin to it, down in the cove. The salt-wind of the incoming tide is soft against you as you fold your clothes, beckoning as you tuck them beneath a large rock.

Johnny strips beside you, less careful, balling everything up in an untidy mass, until you glare at him. The intended admonishment falls flat as your glare turns into something sweeter, as the dark hairs on his chest lift with goosebumps.

He grins at you, seeing the shift. “Here, hen?” he teases as he obediently tidies his shirt and kilt. “Out in the open?”

Out in the open.

You draw him to you, dragging him down into the sand; the joining is quick and hard, spurred by the burgeoning need to go under. You cage his ribs with your knees as you ride him, breasts against his chest as you take his mouth without art or finesse. Johnny digs his fingers into the meat of your ass and helps you along with quick, forceful thrusts, and your orgasm prompts his own, inner muscles pulling him deeper as you pant and moan.

Primal. Without artifice. You exchange hot breaths through open mouths as you speak with your eyes, the ocean-blue of his gaze pulling you in. You grind together even after finishing, prolonging it, displacing a little longer the moment that your bodies must separate.

You have him every day, too. Often more than once. He is as essential a need as the sea, and he gives as freely and as frequently as you ask.

After, you both rise, and help to dust the sand away from each other’s bare skin.

Suddenly, you wonder aloud, “If I get pregnant—what’s it going to be?”

Johnny goes still, the hand on your shin stopping mid-sweep. Then, eyes crinkling, he barks a laugh. He kisses your knee and, as he rises, kisses your mons, then your navel, your sternum—

Then the reluctantly smiling curve of your mouth.

“Wouldnae mind findin’ out,” he says, stepping away from you, and walking backward toward the ocean.

His gaze does not leave you once it rises to meet him. It crests around him, embracing him, vibrant and alive and rushing toward you.

You draw your pelt over your head, and follow Johnny into the waves.

a/n: I'm going to put my final thoughts in a separate post. This is the end. Thank you so much for reading!!

[huellitaa]

facial care ⊹˚. 🧸🧁

── skincare, acne, exercises, gua sha, sculpting... 💭🩷🫶🏼

✧˚. ᵎᵎ 💭🩰 essential tips & tricks

♡ balancing your hormones (click here ♡)

♡ regularly working out (good for the whole body, inside and out!)

♡ facial massages in a steamy shower (at home steam massage, basically)

♡ green and black tea (🎀🗒️note: i've been drinking green tea every day for a year+ now; seriously worth it ♡ 🩷💭)

♡ green smoothies, green foods, green & balanced diet (🎀🗒️note: i really love cucumber water too! ♡ 🫶🏼🗨️)

♡ avoid spiking blood sugar levels too often

♡ consider booking monthly facials (if you're able ♡)

✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🩰 exercises & facial yoga

✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🩰 brands & products

── these come in varying price ranges, in no particular order. there's something for everyone! 💭🩷🫶🏼

simple

cerave

garnier

l'oreal

cosrx

byoma

avon

innisfree

beauty of joseon (🎀🗒️recommended: ginseng revive serum & hydrating jelly dynasty cream)

soap and glory (🎀🗒️recommended: pomegranate & cleansing face masks)

la roche-posay (🎀🗒️ recommended: gentle hydrating cleanser)

⊹˚. 🧸 you can find these in stores such as superdrug, boots, tj maxx (good for foreign brands and a wide selection), target, ulta, holland and barret, the body shop, or just your local drugstore, pharmacy, and health & beauty retailers! 🗨️🩷🫶🏼

✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🩰 bee's favs & my routine

⊹˚. 🧸 my skincare routine

♡ garnier all in 1 miscellar cleansing rose water ♡ laikou japan cleansing toner ♡ beauty of joseon ginseng revive serum / boots glow dewy serum (depending on the day 💭🫶🏼🩷) ♡ laikou japan hydrating and reviving eye cream ♡ beauty of joseon dynasty cream ♡ gua sha & rose quartz roller

i also alternate every week between clay and sheet masks depending on my skin that week and my menstrual cycle.

⊹˚. 🧸 clay masks

i live in the uk so i personally use superdrug brand owned clay masks, they're actually really good! my favourites are the pink clay, cooling cucumber and creamy coconut masks, but i want to invest in beauty of joseon red bean clay mask and innisfree super volcanic pore clay mask ... 🩷🫶🏼

⊹˚. 🧁 sheet masks

i personally get all of mine from miniso 😭because they're actually really cheap (99p!), really good, and they're really cute! i've been using them for months now and they've surprisingly helped so much. otherwise i use soap & glory, ocasionally garnier? or boots brand owned sheet masks🩷🗨️

✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🩰 helpful resources

(help from @hannid0ll and @zxaera on this post love u guys 🫶🏼🩷💭)

all my love! 🎀💬🐈‍⬛️🫶🏻🩷

[kakao-lovey]

୨ৎ Hormonal acne survival guide

(Images from Pinterest)

My mom had it, my dad had it, and pretty much everyone in my family struggles with it to this day. Blackheads, whiteheads, pustules, papules, large pores, scars, the kitchen sink. These are my most honest, tried-and-tested techniques, split up into low-effort (AKA low budget) and high-effort (AKA expensive) tips that help my skin remain healthy against all odds.

꩜ Low effort techniques

~ Water. If you're not hydrated enough, your skin WILL reflect that, no matter how many k-beauty products you own. Let's face it. Water also helps with your overall health -> your mood -> your body image, so either way it's a win. ~ Eating foods that suit your skin: Vitamin C from citrus fruits or paprika, vitamin E from sunflower seeds and almonds, Lycopenes from tomatoes, polyphenols from black tea, Omega-3 from flaxseed and fish... Let me know if I should make a dedicated post! ~ Avoiding dairy: Unless they're 100% organic, most dairy products are filled with oestrogen that they gave the cows to produce more milk. Skipping these products makes *such* a difference. ~ Rice water: Wash some white rice and put it in a bowl of water for 20-40 minutes. Drain out the rice and put the remaining cloudy liquid into a spray bottle. Rice water has been used for centuries to brighten skin, tighten pores and fight acne, especially in Asian cultures where rice was abundant. Use it as a toner after washing your face. ~ Green tea toner: Boil some pure green tea, let it cool and pour into a spray bottle. Green tea is anti-inflammatory and soothing, and is great for clearing up skin. ~ Protecting your face from bacteria: Use a separate towel for your face and body, and avoid touching your face and picking at pimples at all costs! If you want to be really diligent, change your pillowcases every second night (I only do it weekly, but different people have different skin). If you have ADHD and need to fidget or pick at something, get a fidget toy like an infinity cube or a wacky track to keep your hands busy and away from your face. ~ FOR BODY ACNE: Avoid using soaps with any sort of fragrance. Get yourself a hypoallergenic soap, even better if sulfate-free, as fragrances and sulfates dry and irritate sensitive and acne-prone skin.

꩜ High effort techniques

- Isotretinoin: a medicinal treatment commonly branded as Accutane or Oratane, which cuts back your skin's sebum production, which is the root cause of most acne types. It's a prescription product, but it is not very difficult to get one. - Salicylic acid serum: LIFE SAVER. Salicylic acid is a beta-hydroxy acid, which means it penetrates into clogged pores and clears them. Together with an AHA such as lactic or glycolic acid (NOT at the same time, though) you'll have clear skin in less than 2 weeks. ~ Retinol/Retinoids such as Adapalene gel (Differin): NOT to be used while on Isotretinoin, but if you aren't, this is a go-to for acne and even hyperpigmentation. Vitamin A (Retinol) works by increasing cell turnover and collagen production. ꩜ That's all for today! Thank you for reading all of that, and if you try some of these out, keep me posted with your results!

[honeytonedhottie]

general hygiene secrets + tips⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍦

while u upgrade in other areas of ur life, its important to upgrade ur hygiene and self care game too ✨ and this post can help u do that

DOUBLE CLEANSING ;

not only for ur face but also for ur body, doing so makes me feel a million times cleaner. when i double cleanse my face i go in with an oil based cleanser then a water based cleanser.

my double cleansing body recommendations are the dove bar soap, african black soap or the soaps from the doctor bronners brand

for double cleansing my body i'll use an unscented/anti bacterial bar soap and after rinsing that off i'll use a liquid body gel or body wash that has the scent that i wanna smell like

MY TAKE ON UNSCENTED BODY PRODUCTS ;

i think that unscented body products r lowkey slept on but in that same breath i can kinda see why. personally, i like to use an unscented soap sometimes and then make my body smell even better by using a body butter or a lotion but thats SOMETIMES.

TAKE CARE OF UR FEET ;

use a foot file/foot scrub to ensure baby soft, barbie-esque feet. before bed time make sure to moisturize ur feet with a body butter ro vaseline and sleep with fuzzy socks on.

also keep ur toes clipped, filed, and preferably painted. personally i like to go for white toes cuz i just think its classic, but in general do NOT neglect ur feet.

ALL ABOUT FRAGRANCE ;

i love to collect different fragrances and buy a lot of perfumes bcuz i just love the variety, i love the adorable packaging i just LOVE perfume. dont be afraid to blend perfumes together and experiment with how different notes in different perfumes can work together and give u ur own unique scent.

dont sleep on oil perfumes either, personally i find them to be very rich and SO LONG LASTING?? they're absolutely amazing. when u apply the perfume try not to rub, instead press and apply it to ur pulse points.

HOT TIP - when spraying perfume on ur body, make sure to apply some onto the insides of ur knees + ankles bcuz smell travels upwards so when u walk by, the air will smell yummy 🎀

SLUGGING SECRETS ;

slugging urself before bed ensures that when u wake up ur body will be SOFT and SMOOTH and glowy. the basic before bed slugging routine is to go in with a deeply moisturizing body lotion/butter. ur gonna wanna lather urself completely (from the neck down to ur ankles) then use a body oil.

things to look for in a body lotion or body butter - helps with properties like firming and tightening of the skin. aids in deep moisture if ur someone who has dull or dry skin.

its important to find a body butter + oil combination that works well with ur skin and doesn't break u out (plus smells good)

[gloomwitchwrites]

could you do one about all the members of 141 if the reader is super sensitive during sex, squeaks and squirms, cries but she likes it she’s just very responsive

Sensitivity during sex is subjective as everyone is different in that regard. So, here is my little offering to you, anon.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: unprotected piv, dirty talk, missionary, established relationship, teasing, overstimulation, cowgirl, mirror sex, vaginal fingering

Word Count: 1,624

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is a tease.

“How’s that feel, love?” he croons with a mischievous smile.

You whimper. Gasp. His hands upon your skin are simply too much.

Without an answer, Johnny goes down on one elbow, changing the position. He’s not even thrusting anymore, simply holding himself inside you, keeping your legs spread wide over his large, muscled thighs.

“Can’t use your words?” he mocks lightly as the tips of his fingers tenderly graze over a hardened nipple.

At the same time, he sinks a bit further, thighs spreading slightly, pushing your legs even wider. You’re unable to do much but writhe and wiggle beneath him. He always does this. Always teases. He loves how sensitive you are, and how your body comes alive beneath him. All the little sounds you make, all the sharp shakes and shivers, only motivate Johnny to draw forth more.

“What will happen if I touch you here, hm?” he asks, his hand dipping between your bodies. When Johnny says “here,” he runs his finger around the place your bodies meet.

Your cry is loud, and it only becomes louder when he trails upward to circle your clit. His name is there, on the very tip of your tongue, but each touch is a zap, stealing your voice.

But this touching and teasing isn’t cruel. You love every second. It only makes the end that much more electric.

“And here, love? What would happen?” he murmurs.

While still moving over your clit, Johnny leans forward, his tongue circling and then sucking your nipple into his mouth. Your body immediately contracts, every muscle tensing then relaxing. A little shiver rattles up through your spine and out to the edges of your limbs. It causes you to squirm, the sensitivity nearly overwhelming.

But there is nowhere for you to go. You are not only pinned to the bed by Johnny’s upper body but by his cock.

Johnny releases your nipple, his mouth forming a smug smile. “Suppose you need some relief, yeah?”

You curl into him, fingers digging into his skin. Johnny brushes your hair out of your face, and that too makes you tremble.

“Lie back,” he soothes, and you melt, molding to the bed as he flattens himself above you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle talks you through it.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well.”

“That’s my girl. Look at you.”

Kyle delicately guides your legs toward your chest. You’re bent at the knees, trembling, breathing coming fast and heavy. Every touch of his is like a brand against the skin. It is an overwhelming tsunami.

“Kyle,” you beg. “Please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Maybe for it all to end even though you crave the sensation.

“Gotta control that wiggling love.”

“I—I can’t,” you whimper, thighs trembling as he puts you into position.

Kyle parts your pussy with his fingers and you cry out. He tuts and then inserts two fingers. Your hips instantly buck and your back arches, wanting to escape from him.

“No no. None of that, love.” Kyle lightly presses down on your stomach, holding you still as he curls his fingers up and drags them, repeating the motion.

Again, you cry out, and then tears sting your cheeks as you claw at the bedding.

“Control your squirming and I’ll give you what you want.”

“You’re awful,” you whimper, every muscle in your body twitching, wanting to move.

“Do what I say, love. Know you can.” You inhale and Kyle chuckles softly. “That’s it. Good. Exhale. Again.”

He has you repeat the process until the muscles in your limbs calm.

Kyle’s hands retreat, and then he reclines beside you, rotating onto his back. His hand palms the base of his cock, stroking gently.

“Get on top, love. Hands on my chest. You control the pace.”

With a gentle tremble, you swing one leg over Kyle’s thighs, straddling him. You do as he instructs, placing your hands on his chest and angling your hips. He guides himself to your entrance, the head of his cock pushing in, stretching you wide, the sensation shooting up your spin and as well as to the tips of your toes.

“I know you can take it. Fuck, love. That’s it. Good.”

You slowly slide down on him, groaning loudly, nails digging into his chest as you impale yourself on him.

“Oh—fuck.” Kyle’s hands are on your thighs, running up and down them in a caress.

It takes every bit of your concentration to focus on the rhythm of your hips. You’re overly sensitive, and this position reaches deep, hitting that sweet spot every time you come down on him.

“Kyle,” you beg, but it’s without meaning. You just need to talk, to say something, to verbalize your need in whatever way you’re able.

His answer is a groan. “That’s it. Fuck, love. You feel amazing.”

Slowly, your eyelids open, and you’re greeted with a beautiful sight.

“Don’t fucking stop,” he says, one hand sliding between your breasts.

John Price

“Look at yourself, love.”

You are unable to move. Unable to squirm.

John has you spread wide over his thighs like a sacrificial offering. His knees are bent toward the ceiling and just parted enough that you cannot move your legs while draped in his lap. He’s got you impaled on his cock, and he is downright fucking smug about it.

While the motion of your legs is useless, you also don’t have your arms. John has them propped above your head because he doesn’t want you touching him or himself. His own muscles forearms snake up and over your upper arms. It allows you no control, but allows John everything. He can touch your breasts like this. He can touch your clit, your neck, and whatever else he wants.

John rocks and rolls his hips, dick appearing and then disappearing back into your pussy. All you can do is flex your hips a bit but it isn’t enough. You are completely trapped. At his mercy. And the sensitivity is overwhelming.

Without any control, you have to submit to John, and while you love it, it only rockets every ripple of pleasure that much higher.

“See what I have to do,” he murmurs into your ear. “You can’t stop moving.”

Tears bloom in the corners of your eyes like tiny dewdrops. You are far too sensitive for this. John is pushing you into overstimulation.

John nips at your earlobe and you gasp. “Look,” he prompts.

The closet door is open. Not by much, but enough that the mirror that hands on the inside faces the bed. Within, you see yourself, and John. You see how splayed out you are, how needy and pathetic you look in his arms.

“Look,” he says again. “Want you to watch.”

It takes all your effort to focus. Every time John rock his hips upward, his brush of skin against you is fire. It causes everything in you to react and jump. But you cannot writhe. Cannot move.

And that only makes you more frustratingly coiled with untamed need.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyelids heavy as you gaze upon the spot where your bodies meet, and how much your body stretches to accommodate him. You can see how your chest heaves, the tightness building and overwhelming your senses.

“Now you see what I see,” murmurs John as his hand delves downward to give you some relief.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Quit your squirming.”

“Then don’t be cruel,” you moan, nearly jumping out of Simon’s arms when he sharply thrusts upward.

Simon’s teeth nip at your throat and this time your body jerks, almost sending you out of his lap.

“Stay still,” he growls, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“You know how sensitive I am.”

“I do. Fucking love it.”

Simon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s an embrace, and yet there is power behind it, the muscles there tensing with anticipation. You inhale, and your exhalation is stolen from you.

Simon twists, and you go with him, rolling onto your back.

You squeak loudly only to be pinned against the bed. “Simon—”

He crushes his lips to yours, his tongue delving for your taste. The only sound you make is a whimper. “But sometimes,” murmurs Simon against your lips. Your squirming gets in the way.”

Using his body weight, Simon drives in at a harsh angle, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. That vibration of pleasure ripples outward, and your body reacts as it always does. But you cannot writhe and wiggle. Simon is too heavy, and he knows this, which is why he’s pinned you.

“Oh—fuck. Simon. Plea—. Please.”

“Please what?” laughs Simon softly before moving inside of you again.

The only reply you can make is a strained moan.

Simon grins, completely smug. “Tuck in, love. I’ll give you something to squirm about.”

Simon wraps your wrists up in one hand, pinning them above your head. He starts to thrust in earnest, his free hand holding the side of your throat. He watches on as tears come to your eyes. Your body wants to move, to buck and arch against him, but you are completely trapped.

Simon leans in, kisses the spots on your cheeks stained with tears. The only thing you can move are the bottoms of your legs. You wrap your ankles over his bulging calves and cling.

Every stroke and brush of his skin against yours is a roaring fire, rocketing you toward overstimulation. Words fall from your lips but they are elusive, just white noise in your ears. You know that you’re crying, that you’re speaking to him, that you’re attempting to move.

But Simon is relentless, claiming every inch of your body like he always does.

[illusioninfnty]

Of Honor and Duty

જ⁀➴ Peeping Tom : Day 9

feat. Miguel O'Hara ᯓ★ Being from a different dimension won't stop Miguel from watching you.

warnings! : NSFW 18+, non-consensual voyeurism, masturbation, delusional thoughts

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

The glow of the screens that surround Miguel illuminate his dark office as he watches you come home.

His cock jumps up instantly to your image, throbbing against the confines of his suit.

He’s gotten used to your routine by now. You come home at the same time every day you work, and he’s always there to greet you from afar.

You are a creature of habit, just like he always remembered you to be. You drop your keys on the table next to your front door, slipping off your shoes—right one first, always—and heading to your bedroom to get ready for a shower.

Miguel knows this is wrong. That looking into other dimensions should only be work, for serious business.  For the sole purpose to maintain the balance of the multiverse.

But who is he to deny himself the pleasure that he’s been missing, the woman that’s been missing from his world, the body that makes his own come back to life?

Besides, he’s not interfering with her, not disrupting any canon events. Only watching. It’s his role as a leader, a protector, to watch over those who can’t do that for themselves.

And you are no exception to that.

Poor, poor, you. Clueless about the man who watches you every night, who strokes his cock to the most innocent movements, to your monotonous, daily routine.

Miguel hisses as his cold, calloused hand makes contact with his aching member.

It’s been so long since he’s touched your body. He has all of your curves memorized, to the point that he could draw them out perfectly with his eyes closed.

His gaze travels down your frame as his hand squeezes at the base of his cock. Precum beads at the slit and he swipes it alongside the rest of his length, producing a slick sound as he strokes himself to full mast.

Exhales leave his lips in ragged breaths, practically panting as the view of you undressing fills his screens, taking over his entire vision. He wishes he could burn the image of your naked body into his mind, a sight only for him.

His cock throbs in anticipation, and it’s moments like these where he is especially prideful in his self-control. A man with a shred less than his own would have clawed his way into your apartment, disrupting your solitude.

You should be thankful it’s him who watches over you, and not some degenerate creep who wouldn’t be able to take care of you.

“Fuck, mi vida.” His words vibrate in his throat and his pace quickens around his cock. He thrusts his hips into his fist, imaging your body beneath him. His hands grip the side of his brand new desk. 

(His old one broke after a small fit of rage he had when another man’s name tumbled off your lips when you brought yourself to orgasm. But he didn’t need to worry about that anymore. He was a mere anomaly that had to be…taken care of.)

His tip is sensitive from all of the stimulation he’s given it. He allows his fingers to stroke it at a languid pace, teasing himself in a way he knows you would. You would be such a good girl, propped on your knees before him, looking through those long lashes with your doe eyes.

A pleased sigh from you—the real you on his screen—interrupts him as you step into your steaming shower.

He imagines that’ll be the noise you make when his cock finally enters you again. Your walls will stretch to accommodate his girth, squeezing him like a vice. He can practically feel your nails clawing into his back, whimpers silenced into his neck as he whispers praises into your ear.

But he knows you can take it well. You have before.

His eyes follow your wet naked body, following your hands as you lather soap all around. He can’t silence his groan as he sees your fingers trail to your pussy, throwing your head back as you begin to play with yourself.

Miguel’s hand quickens, matching the pace of your own as he fucks his fist furiously. It’s moments like these that feel so intimate to him.

He’s glad you can share such private moments with him. He just wishes that the universe would place you into his grasp again.

He can almost feel your breath against his neck, tickling his collarbone. His cock throbs at the thought of you being so close to him again. 

“You miss me, mi vida?” He grunts as he squeezes his throbbing head, the sounds of his arousal squelching as he does so. He humps pathetically into his hand, chasing the warmth of your body that could never be replicated. “Missing my cock? Your fingers can’t fill you the way I do,” he rasps.

He can see your frustration; he feels the same way as you do. He knows that you are craving something more, something that will never fill the void inside of you because it is universes away, peering in on you, watching over you for your own good.

His heart aches for you, as does his cock.

On his screens, your legs begin to shake and you bite your lip tightly. Miguel is quite privy to the sight; he knows all the tells when you’re about to cum. He can feel his own orgasm approaching too. His hips snap rabidly into his hand, and he puts pressure on the angry red tip.

Your melodic moans fill his speakers, fill his brain, and he can’t help but to come on cue to the sound. You come synchronously with him. He smiles, baring his fangs as your body quakes with your release. It’s like you were waiting for him—knew he was watching you and you put on a show all for him.

He wishes that he could come and unveil himself to you, take you away from your miserable world and fuck you dumb until all your cock drunk tiny mind thinks of is Miguel, Miguel, Miguel.

But Miguel is an honorable man.

A man of control.

He knows what his duty is, and he performs it well.

But he isn’t afraid to enjoy the view when he can.

[zayneshottestgal]

Sylus dating a girly badass🐦‍⬛

Having a similar darker clothing style

Tries to suddenly match with you. If he sees you’re a fan of a certain brand/designer he will buy a few items that also suit his taste. If you point out how he didn’t seem to own pieces from that designer before and accuse him of copying you , he’ll tease and ask if you own the brand and can control who can wear it . he of course also buys you all the pieces you want from new drops and tells his henchman to keep a look out on any vintage pieces you’ve been struggling to find.

He thinks obvious matching outfits are too cheesy but also still has the desire to have that obvious sign that the two of you are together when out in public . Matching jewelry seems to do the trick. Matching rings and necklaces. If you have lots of ear piercing , and tattoos and tease him about the lack of his own . He would consider letting you pierce his ears. Tattoos he said he would think about ( he forgets).

“That designer you like is having a show here soon , is their space in your work schedule to go?”

“ do I think that jacket is too similar to your other one? I don’t see anything wrong with having a jacket that detailed if you think you don’t have enough clothes to go with it , we’ll go buy more”

“I left a gift on the desk in your suite consider wearing it tonight”

Having a detailed beauty regime

Most nights Sylus leaves you alone during your night routine but some nights he gets curious….. (*cough* clingy) . He seems like the type to have a effective but small skin care routine so your pamper nights look a little foreign to him

He teases you for it , calling you a true princess, a beauty rocket scientist , a professional beauty queen anything that flusters you and gets on your nerves . But honestly he’s happy to see you taking such detailed care of yourself and that you can still have your relaxing nights even at the n109 base.

He makes sure to keep all your things stocked and take notice of your preferences , which scents you like for soaps, which lotions you prefer to use , What goals you have for your skincare etc. he’ll read up on the methods you use and their benefits ( ex.dry brushing and milk baths) . He doesn’t want to ask and bother you but still wants to be informed.

If you suggest certain methods and products to add to his routine he will consider them sincerely. 9/10 he will implement them ,the 1/10 is if the method takes to much time or he just doesn’t like the product . But he trust your judgment full heartily and even comes to you for advice .

If you try to pamper him one day he will try to resist it but not for long . He thinks he should be the only one to spoil you but since you really wish to return the favor he cannot say no to you. I think he would be quite relaxed during the whole process, he doesn’t get to sit back and truly relax often ,so he’ll take advantage of it. He’ll try to thank you in a special way after especially since he has so much “extra” energy now.

“Is the beauty queen almost done with her routine?our flight in the morning is quite early.”

“Someone’s skin feels extra soft today ,any spare tips for a guy like me”

“What does this do? Hmm…that’s certainly interesting,they sell other varieties of this too right, do you only like this one ?”

Driving a motorcycle and having a sports car

Sylus likes that you also have a motorcycle it makes you more comfortable when riding on his . He also appreciates that if a deal goes bad you can drive the both of you home if he’s unable . He still keeps a helmet at his place so you don’t have to consistently take yours from off your bike just to ride on his. He makes sure your helmet is the highest quality and that your bike is in top shape .

If you have a sports car that you like driving around Sylus would have his men clear the roads in the east side of the N109 zone so that you could drive as fast as you wanted without traffic . He wouldn’t mind sitting in the passenger as you had your fun. He loved that you had that thrilling and adventurous side of you. He was proud that he had the resources to fuel that passion.

When you guys are parked for dates he has mephisto watch over your car . He never bothered doing that for his own car he didn’t care much if it got stolen/damaged he could buy another. But he knew your car meant a lot to you and was protective over it . “Your baby” as you call it. If it ever broke down and needed new parts he had the mechanic and new parts at the house within the next hour . He would not track you or have mephisto follow you around , all he ask is that you text him when you get home especially on those stormy nights . If you are leaving late at night to go back to linkon he insists on driving you himself just to make sure you get home safe . He’ll have one of his men follow you guys so that he can get home. The peace of mind is more then worth the trip.

“no one will steal your baby sweetie I have my men watching over it relax and enjoy the meal”

“ the mechanic said the new part was a perfect fit and that they can have it done within in an hour”

“No eating in the car because it makes a mess ? Sweetheart we’ve made worst messes in this car then just ketchup, I’ll hire a cleaner”

Caring for mephisto and the twins

You’ve grown to like mephisto and he seems to be warming up to you as well. Since he’s a mechanical bird you can’t really give him treats like you would a regular bird. But you still kiss the top of his head when he lands next to you and you thank him for watching over you when sylus can’t do it . Sylus will never admit but he is a bit jealous of his little crow . He made mephisto a custom bird stand for when he’s at your house so that he doesn’t have to perch on any old available surface . Sometimes mephisto lets you put bows on him. When he returns to Sylus to report to him ,Sylus slightly laughs at the bird with the big pink bow . “You’ve gone soft mephisto “ ( he’s projecting).

As for the twins sometimes when you’re back home at linkon or out on vacation with Sylus you bring them back souvenirs. They always appreciate them . They’ve gotten into the habit of waiting at the door when they know you and sylus are on your way home from the airport. You always hand them their gifts right away.

When you’re at sylus house and he’s busy with whatever ,you usually play with the twins. If they ever need any advice from a women’sperspective they always go to you . Even if they don’t need a women’s perspective just another perspective in general and it’s something they might be too shy to ask sylus they go to you. They truly see you as another leader and respect you just as much as sylus.

“ if I didn’t know any better I would think the twins were your henchmen”

“What were you and the boys talking about earlier, it’s a secret? Alright then”

“You want to take the twins AND mephisto with us on vacation. I guess since there’s room on the jet but don’t run back to me when they get you off track to see all the places you wanna go too”

(A.N) longest post I’ve written for love and Deepspace and it’s for sylus lol . I’ll make one for zayne too it’s wrong to abandon one husband for another . Let me know if you enjoyed it in the comments and what I can improve on . Thank you for reading .

-do not repost , translate my work (copy into A.I ) on to other websites . Please and thank you

[meowpupp]

could you write hybrid!soap unintentionally being really rough with reader coz he’s so horny please :)

link to og post

tw://dry humping, mentions of denial, "just the tip" trope, hybrid smut, overstim, manhandling, bad editing (by now its my brand)

pup!johnny, who's pent up. his cock aches and throbs from being edged and denied so often, craving the soft, tight walls of your cunt.

it's agonising, the constant dull throb and ache. his skin is sensitive and hot, even just putting a hand on his shoulder makes his dick hard. he can't help it, flushed tip leaking thick drops of pre, staining his boxers as he tries not to moan.

he spends hours rutting against whatever he can find. pillows, blankets, simons boot. but his owner never lets him cum, pushing johnny off the second he gets close.

it's only a matter of time before he snaps. he tried, he did, but the sight of you in those little pj shorts was too much. he has you pinned on the mattress within an instant, growling into your ear.

big, calloused hands force your thighs apart. he cant help himself, rutting his hips against yours, panting into your neck. the friction makes his head spin, cock throbbing in his boxers, almost on the verge of cumming already.

he sounds frantic, a little pathetic as he whines in your ear, begging you like a good boy for just a taste of your pretty cunt.

"m sorry pup, just- fuck, need you s'bad. just be good for me, yeah? be good f'me like you are f'price. I'll make you feel s'good I swear, please, fuckin need you."

his hands reach down, gripping your body a little too tight as he rips away your shorts. the poor pup whimpers loudly, fearing any moment someone will force him away from you.

johnny practically goes feral at the little wet spot on your panties, whines only getting needier and more desperate. his hands shake, dick painfully hard as he pulls it out from his boxers. the tip is an angry red, and he's leaking so much pre he's practically cumming.

"please baby, just the tip, I'll jus' put in the tip." his hips thrust forward, spreading your pretty cunt around him, the friction from your panties making his head spin, "fuck, please puppy, need your cunt, just the tip, i promise."

he almost cums then and there when you agree. he's too lost in his haze to even think, leaving you to reach down, pull your panties aside, and line his tip up. he groans into your neck, body shuddering as he finally gets what he wants.

he tries to stay good on his promise, at first only thrusting the tip. but you just feel so good, gummy walls stretching around him, cunt wet and hot, your little whines and moans making him shudder.

it takes less than a minute for him to break. he forces his whole length into you, his dick stretching you to your limits. his hips bruise your ass with each thrust, nails digging into the fat of your thighs. he can't shut up, speaking so fast you can barely tell what he's saying.

"fuckin hell, god, you feel s'good. such a good girl, my pretty pup. you were made for me, yeah? little cunt sucking in my cock like that, fuck."

it takes less than 5 minutes for him to cum. he holds you down, forcing you flat to the mattress. he buries himself as deep as possible, stuffing your sore cunt full.

but johnny doesn't stop, cock still rock hard. he pulls out, hands gripping your waist as he flips you over. a hand tangles in your hair, the other gripping your ass. within seconds he's buried deep again, each harsh thrust pushing his last load.

he ignores all your pretty whines, body squirming as you almost start to cry. your poor cunt hurts, bullied ruthlessly by him. he shoves your face into the pillows letting out a deep growl as he leans over you.

"told you bonnie, be good. just let me use your little cunt," he presses down, forcing you to arch his back. he fucks you deeper with the new angle, smirking as you gasp, "there ya go, feels good yeah? fuckin hell, bon."

[tired-biscuit]

werewolf!Kiba finding out you have knotted dildos 👀

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: monsterfucking, scent kink, toys. he’s mean in this one, sorry.

oh my god, him being your ex-boyfriend who you can’t help but hook up with again — or should you say hook up with for ‘one last time’ because, you know, old habits die hard or whatever.

so you’re making out on your bed, every kiss urgent and angry, lips mashing against teeth. your bodies grind against each other, and his broad back is hunched from how he’s nosing his way down the side of your neck; inhaling your scent and feeling your pulse drum on the the tips of his sharp canines that are slowly growing larger, transforming…

and since he can smell what you want, since he’s already got you nice and naked below him, your scent practically screaming fuck me, fuck me, fuck me at him, before you can notice, or much less stop him, he’s pulling away from your neck with a hot lick at your skin and reaching over the edge of the bed to open the drawer that he remembers you usually keep the bottle of lube in.

you obviously need it if you plan on taking his knot again just for ol’ time’s sake — he phrases it that way, not you — but what he finds in there instead is far more peculiar.

it’s dark in the room, however kiba is a predatory type of monster so his eyes still work like a charm even whilst being burdened by shadows. his outstanding eyesight allows him to see the shape, as well as the sheer size of the object that’s sitting right beside the bottle of lube he’d meant to grab and that’s caught his attention now. even more importantly, he’s able to notice the way it expands and bulges right at the base.

almost like a-

“i thought you said that you weren’t gonna miss me the last time we spoke,” he says, every word involuntarily growly and deep from the way he’s fighting back his true nature. but also because your last fight had been one of the worst ones yet. just thinking about it makes him agitated.

your body tenses as realization of what he’d just discovered hits, washing over you like an icy cold shower. you’re still panting, your chest heaving heavily as you try to catch your breath, but now it’s like every inhale hurts a little.

“i didn’t use it,” you mumble, swallowing thickly.

“is that so?”

“yeah, so don’t even bother-”

as if on cue, you watch in horror as he reaches into the drawer and picks up the toy. he weighs it in his hand with a derisive-sounding snort, tracing the intricate veins that run along the scarily massive length before he brings it up to his nose.

ignoring the dumb, wide-eyed stare of disbelief that you give him the second you hear him sniff, kiba proceeds to take a deep inhale.

overall, the toy smells clean. like it’s been washed with the intimate soap of which he can’t remember the brand of, but knows for a fact that you use sometimes. however, there’s also something else lingering on the toy… something faded and weak, from the way it’s been mostly scrubbed off. the slightest, tiniest remnants of your scent cling to the silicone.

the very same scent you’re exuding right now.

arousal.

your ex-boyfriend smirks after he catches you in your lie, pride swelling in his chest. in that very same moment, the headlights of a passing car that’s driving down the street beam through your bedroom window, making his teeth gleam for a second.

his grin is arrogant, wolfish. perfectly fitting for a man — monster — like him. enough to send an excited shiver down your spine, even if that exact arrogance had been one of the reasons why you had decided to break up with him in the first place.

“tsk, tsk, sweetheart.” he clicks his tongue against his teeth while he drops the toy to tap the side of his nose. “lying ain’t nice, y’know? you could’ve just told me that normal cock can’t hit the spot for ya anymore... instead you’re over here trying to fuck regular-ass humans, playing with your silly toys after they leave you unsatisfied, even though i could be giving you the real thing every single night.”

“what makes you think i’d even want ‘the real thing’?” you snip, drawing your brows together and glaring up at him. “what if… what if i’m perfectly satisfied with what i have now? what if it’s better?”

you know you’re in no position to be asking such questions; at least not whilst squirming naked underneath him and with the inside of your mouth still tasting like his tongue, but trying to stand up for yourself feels better than letting him drag you down like this. even if it causes for heat of hypocrisy to slowly creep up your cheeks and neck.

“well, i dunno,” he murmurs, leering down your naked body with bright yellow eyes that seem to possess such a twisted delight in mocking you, mocking you, mocking you.

you’ve let him in, haven’t you?

before you can respond, he picks up the toy again, dragging it down the center of your belly, making you flinch when he reaches the point below your belly button. you try to reach for it but his reflexes are inhumanly quick, so he has no trouble with restraining you with a single hand.

“how ‘bout…” he pauses, grinning once again at the way you can’t help but whimper in frustration when the tip of the dildo makes contact with your sticky, throbbing entrance. the audibly wet sound the action produces makes you want to reach up and smash his teeth in — restrained or not.

especially when he says, “how ‘bout i take turns stuffing your cunt with this lil’ friend of yours, and then when we’re finished, you can tell me all about how much better it is at it than i am, yeah?”

[buuberry00]

Can you feed us Luka nation some more perhaps….please…and thank you…….

-☀️

absolutely!! here's a small fic just for you, Luka Nation!!!!

Gentle touches - pt.1 ?

luka x gn! reader

c.w: mentions of medical injuries, spoilers for wiege, angst, brandings, descriptions of malnourishment, mentions of hallucinations + obsession, mentions of abuse, clingy! luka, somewhat noncanon alnst lore/timeline

please read at your own discretion!

────୨ৎ────

Luka had never known love like this.

You treated him as if he was worth something. The way you looked at him, or the way you ran your fingers through his hair, or the way you helped him take his medicine. Luka knew this is what love was.

Luka sat in the porcelain-made tub, knees drawn to his chest. His spine was somewhat visible through his back. His hair had grown since the last time you trimmed it for him, nor reaching his neck and curling in wisps.

Luka stared down at his knees, slender fingers tracing the bruises there. Luka relaxed as you washed his back with such a gentle touch, the loofa scraping along his skin in a way that felt far from the pain Luka had grown up with.

Heperu, Luka's owner, was far from kind.

Everything was different, now compared to the past. As children, you, Luka, Hyuna and her brother Hyun-woo used to play as if there was no tomorrow. In the Anakt Gardens, life seemed like a dream. Sunny skies, huge fluffy clouds, plenty of friends to play with.

Nothing good ever lasts. Hyun-woo dies. Hyuna and Luka never spoke, not even when Hyuna and Mizi escaped the facility and never looked back. Luka was destroyed, hallucinating Hyuna as if she never left. Sometimes, he'd accidentally refer to you as her.

"I really love you, Hyuna," Luka mumbled to you one night as you helped him dress for bed. "Please don't ever leave me, okay?"

"I'm y/n," you reminded him for what felt like the fourteenth time. "y/n. Hyuna isn't here anymore."

When Hyuna did come back and die in Luka's arms, Luka was distraught.

He hallucinated more, hardly slept and refused to eat. He drew more pictures of Hyuna, plastered them to his walls and rocked himself into a steady motion, holding himself as if his arms were the glue holding himself together.

You were there for him. Day in and day out, helping him eat, bathe, sleep, dress - sometimes even helping him when he goes to the restroom. Luka never minded, resting his head against your shoulder.

Currently, as you helped Luka bathe, he sat still for you. You washed his back and lathered soap into his scalp, gently tipping his head back to rinse the soap away.

"Lean your head back," you instructed quietly, sleeves rolled up to your elbows. Luka obeys, sighing softly through his nose. "Perfect. Close your eyes." Luka's long lashes flutter shut as you gently swipe suds away from his cheeks. His shoulders sag as he sighs, leaning his head sideways into your chest.

"Thank you, dear y/n," Luka whispers, arms looped loosely around his knees. "I really appreciate you." "You don't have to thank me," you hum. "I like taking care of you." Luka smiled to himself, quietly rubbing the side of his head against your sternum, eyes closed. "I love you, y/n." Luka whispers. "I love you so much."

"yeah?" you drag a hand across his upper back, carefully cleaning his medical wounds before rubbing alcohol into his branding - just to prevent it from getting infected.

"Yeah. I really love you, so much."

Luka lifts a hand, firmly holding onto your shirt collar. He gives it a light tug, wanting your attention.

"You won't leave me, will you? You promise you won't?"

"I-I promise," you vow, "I promise."

────୨ৎ────

lmk if you want pt. 2 !!!

much love,

-venus

[bullet-prooflove]

Number Three: Doug Ross x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989

Doug does not do feelings. He doesn’t  do more than one night. He certainly doesn’t do mouthy surgeons who verbally spank him in the ER but here is he back in your bed for the third time this week, his hands grasping wooden headboard as he fucks you like you’re the last woman on this earth.

His face is buried in the curve of your throat, the scent of that lemongrass soap in his nostrils as he bites down onto your shoulder, trying to hold back the sheer force of his orgasm.

Being with you is a special type of torture, his own personal brand because the aim of the game is to get you off as many times as possible before he comes and right now you are testing his limits.

“You aren’t gonna make it to number three.” You tease him, reaching back, your fingers combing through his dark hair, tugging it hard enough to make his hips surge up into you.

“Like hell, I’m not.” He mutters defiantly, his palm slipping from the headboard, fingers seeking out your clit. He presses down hard, fingertips sweeping in firm, dedicated circles, making your breath hitch. “I’m gonna have you coming on my cock again honey, you just have to shut that pretty mouth of yours and let me finish what I started.”

His palm covers your mouth before you can spit out a response and your pussy flutters around him. You like it when he stands up to you, it’s the reason you get him all riled up in the first place.

“Oh that’s it isn’t? We’re getting there now aren’t we baby?” He drawls into your ear, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “You’re gonna come for me like a good girl, aren’t you?”

You moans into his hand, your breath hot against his palm. He can feel you right there on the cusp, squeezing around him, all it takes is one more thrust and your lighting up like a fucking supernova on his dick, exploding into a thousand tiny stars.

There is nothing like coming inside you, the way you grip his cock…

It’s like you were made for him, made to take every inch, every drop of his cum as he spills his release inside you.

Your head tips back into the crook of his shoulder, his palm slipping down to your throat, thumb lightly caressing the scar just under your jaw. The one you don’t talk about.

“I told you I’d get you there.” He mumbles as his hands roam over your naked form, kneading, caressing, stroking everywhere he can reach.

He would never admit this to a single soul but this is his favourite part. This brief moment of tenderness, the intimacy he feels when he’s with you like this.

“Congratulations, you were right about something today.” You murmur and he can hear the smile in your voice as his lips brush over your temple.

“You ever gonna stop busting my balls?” He asks you, cradling you against his chest. “Or is this the way it’s always gonna be?”

“Highly unlikely.” You inform him and he chuckles into your hair.

“Good thing I like you just the way you are.” He says pulling out reluctantly. You wince a little at the motion and he places a gentle kiss over the bitemark he left on your shoulder. You’re gonna be sore in the morning, he wasn’t easy on you tonight but then again you weren’t easy on him either. He has the scratch marks on his back from the first time to prove it.

“And here’s me thinking this was just hate sex.” You respond as you sit back down on the bed, your back coming to rest against the headboard.

That’s the other thing he likes about you, you don’t cover up the way that other women usually do after you fuck. You let him see what he’s done to you. The stubble burn across your breasts from his five o’clock shadow. Your mused up hair from where he pulled it, getting you over that edge the second time. His cum leaking out of you, staining the sheets as you prop your elbow up on one knee, fingers tapping together because you’re craving that post coital cigarette but you’re desperately trying to quit.

“It definitely started out that way.” He tells you as he stalks into your bathroom. “But you’re growing on me.

He picks up a fresh washcloth from the towel stand alongside the bath, soaking it in warm water before wringing it out and returning to the bed. You look practically sinful, resting there amongst the tousled white sheets, your eyes fixed on his. His knees come to rest on the bottom of the mattress before he crawls slowly over you, his firm body brushing over yours. He presses the damp wash cloth between your thighs, soothing the ache he knows resides there.

“Let me stay tonight so I can ruin you again in the morning.” He whispers as his nose traces the length of yours until your mouths are perilously close.

“Doesn’t that break one of your rules?” You ask him in that knowing tone of yours. “No sleepovers, I believe.”

“Rules are made to be broken.” He reminds you, capturing your lips. “And honestly sweetheart, I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

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